get your minds out of the gutter.
brodie will be three weeks old tomorrow! at his last check-up, little man weighed in at 9 pounds, 9 ounces - and that was last monday. who knows? we may have broken the 10-pound barrier since then. this kid is an eater - every two to four hours - he never willingly misses a meal. most of the time it's just me and him, putzing around the house, getting the mail, taking lunch to the bee at work. i'm falling into the trap of domestic-ism and easily so; the idea of going back to work at giant conglomerate bank makes me want to cry. i don't want to miss any days with little man and the idea of someone else (such as daycare or a babysitter) watching him everyday makes me sad. i don't know what the answer is - hopefully it makes itself clear soon.
as for me, i get some sleep here and there. i do a lot of laundry. i've lost 33 pounds but i still have a few to go. my body has completely changed shape and none of my clothes fit. i'm seriously contemplating muu-muus as this summer's fashion statement. i could wear muu-muus, sport flip-flops and eat bon-bons all summer, because obviously if it's hyphenated it's worth my time.
the bee and i are good about half the time, which really translates to daylight hours because after the sun goes down he's a bear. he's either such a heavy sleeper that he doesn't hear little man cry or he has far more tolerance for the sound of an unhappy baby than i do; i'm not sure and i don't really care - i find both options equally annoying. so most of our arguments take place in the middle of the night while we're both half-asleep and mostly incoherent. in all actuality though, it seems to work okay for now because neither of us remember what was really said or done (or not done in some cases) but we both know we need to apologize for something. our morning conversations go something like this...
janel: "hey. hey. HEY. it's 6:45, you wanted to leave the house ten minutes ago."
the bee: "hi. you need to brush your teeth. i don't know what i said last night but i'm sorry."
janel: "i don't know what you said either but okay. sorry i hit you with the pillow all those times."
the bee: "it's okay; i deserved it - i was being an asshole. but really, you need to brush your teeth."
janel: "i freaking get it. lay off my teeth there, nuclear waste mouth. aren't you late for work?"
the bee: "oh hell. what time is it? why didn't you wake me up?"
and so on and so forth - you can see where this is going. and so begins another beautiful day in our neighborhood...
brodie's cousin kooper loaned us his stroller. it's the coolest thing ever. all these bells and whistles and straps and baskets and handles and buttons. the only thing it doesn't do is make toast. i'm kind of excited to get out and walk with little man this week.
tomorrow is memorial day; i think i'm working at the whippy dip but i'm not sure. i can see how that place eats managers for dinner - yesterday we were welcomed by two machines full of sour ice cream and a cooler full of sour, chunky ice cream mix. luckily (and i honestly mean this) i was the only one that tasted just how bad the stuff really was - if we'd sold much of it we'd probably have a lawsuit on our hands. i don't think dead customers or botulism are good advertising tools.
yesterday was the first day i left little man with his grandma. i wasn't worried about them, leaving brodie with my mom is like me watching him, you know? but it was the first time that i was really without him for nearly 11 months now - i felt like i'd left my right leg at home. it was very bizarre. once i got over it (which is really to say once i stopped sobbing, which was about 43 miles into my 56 mile trip) i was okay. it was nice to talk to adults and have conversations about things other than poop. but i missed him all day and couldn't wait to get back to see him last night.
the bee is working overtime (OT BABY! WOOHOO for RENT!) this weekend on a big nasty project so it's just me and brodie today. we've got some errands to run and groceries to buy and some stuff to do but we have to be home by 4 p.m. for the start of the Coca Cola 600. i'm going to give little man his first lesson in nascar: jeff gordon is a dipshit and kevin harvick rules. :-)