What? Who? When?

Content around these parts had been pretty bleak. In all honestly, it's probably because all my posts would sound the same: 

Raptor crying! Raptor not sleeping! MiT's boobs hurt! RaptorDad no home! 

Rinse and repeat. 

See? I don't want to bore anyone with the same post over and over. 

Last week I finally realized the extent of my baby brain. RaptorDad and I decided to have a date night. We have an unbelievable nanny who not only takes the Raptor during the day, she happily works into the night so we can have some grown up time every once in a while. 

Off we went to a dinner filled with wine, calories, gluten and dairy. No matter how much I want to stick to my Paleo diet I relapse more often than not. And on a date night? Yeah I AM HAVING THAT MILKSHAKE. 

Post-milkshake we hopped in the car and I checked my voice mail. My dear friend left me this message: "Hi MiT! I figured since I am going to be in town tomorrow we should probably touch base!" And I thought oh how adorable! She thinks she's flying in tomorrow! It's actually the following Friday I explained to RaptorDad. And since she was meeting another friend at the airport, I chuckled as I checked both their itineraries certain that March 28th would pop up on their itineraries. 

It didn't. 

SHIT.

SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT

Why yes, the well-rested adults who wear actual clothes with zippers and buttons were correct. Their arrival date was March 21st. NOT the 28th. And here I was all gluttonous with a dirty house and as unrested as Gwenyth Paltrow on set. I whispered: "She's right. They both arrive tomorrow." RaptorDad's incredulous look stopped me in my tracks, his annoyance clear as day on his face. 

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

These new mom memory lapses extend to forgetting to transfer money into our joint account resulting in an overdraft - a complete NO NO in RaptorDad's eyes - to now forgetting that my friends are coming into town. 

Obviously, everything turned out fine. These are my oldest and dearest friends; they don't care that I haven't done laundry in 2 days (with a 10 week old that's a long time) or cleaned 

ANYTHING in a few weeks. And as embarrassed as I was about my lack of house cleaning, I couldn't shake the clear annoyance on RaptorDad's face or the fact that my day job requires me to REMEMBER things.

I need to put everything on a calendar and write everything down. And then remember where I wrote them down. Last night I added something to the list in my head and forgot by the time I made it into my room to write it down. 

How do you remember things? Can you hold it in your head? Post-its? Strings around your finger?

Who the what?!

I finally got this Raptor to sleep. It been 6 weeks if crying, pooping, sleeping and boobing. ALLL the boobing. Look I have been shitty about posting. I mean I sucked at it before so your expectations really shouldn't be very high. 

Here's the skinny: 

She sleeps at night. Not continuously but in 2-3 hr stretches. 

She loves a bath.

She'll take any bottle you give her because as long as there's milk on the other end lunchbox is all in. 

Just before 6 weeks she started for real smiling - all gummy smiles and bright eyes. Natures way of ensuring that we don't find the first handy cliff and drop her off it. Oh you think I'm being extreme? How about rocket-like poop all over you, your carpet and your screaming baby at 230AM? Or persistent, nonstop screaming/crying for about 8hrs? Or two count them TWO blowout poops before 1PM? Yeah those sweet smiles and chunky cheeks saved her today. 

Ah there are her sweet dulcet tones. Post over. 

Day is Night or Night is Day?

I started a post a few days before the arrival of the Raptor going on and on about being terrified and what if this and what if that blah blah anxiety. And of course, I don't finish nary a damn thing it's still sitting in the drafts folder. I know! Go get your surprised face. 

And yes this little Raptor completely owns us - well her and my boobs. SLAVE TO THE BOOB! BOW BITCHES. But my boobs are really her lackey so the hierarchy looks like: 

RAPTOR

Boobs

Laundry

Medela

MiT & RaptorDad

Let's jump to number 4 on that list - the Medela Breast Pump. It's my new best friend. Well frenemy really because while I get immediate relief when using, the maintenance is a bitch - washing, sterilizing, pumping, washing, rinsing, pumping. My boobs have their own zip code and they are policed by the teeny Raptor and the Medela. 

RaptorDad loves loves loves them. Not that he gets to touch but oh is he excited by them! I show my boobs to more people than Girls Gone Wild only I don't get to go to NOLA or Vegas or have tequila shots to lube me up. That's some bullshit. Whenever people walk into my house I announce the amount of boobage showing or holler a forewarning that while contained they will be out soon enough wreaking all sorts of leaking havoc and the ensuing WOMP WOMP WOMP of the Medela sirens are nigh. 

Truth be told, while breast feeding hasn't been hard per se I am not much of a fan. Granted it's been two weeks and we had some latching issues, but overall it's been...fine. I should probably hang in there and really not worry about it until I get on some sort of schedule but oh LORD my life with no schedule - AAAAAHHHHHHHH. Everything is all topsy-turvy and wibbly-wobbly.  This is normal right, RIGHT?! Sigh. I'm tired. 

The Raptor

She's lovely. 

All rosy pink with dark hair 

Yes, her scales are gorgeous. 

Stats: 

7lbs 

20"

Born at 1:46P on 1/10/14

Fun facts:

Csections hurt

Spinal blocks are awesome

Night nurses always suck 

Speaking of night, RaptorDad and I have no sense of it. Or day. Or time really. It's been 4 days. The raptor owns us. It's humiliating and not a little terrifying. 

Post ideas have been lowered to Tweet ideas and only about 1/4 of those make it through. I'm so swollen that the iPhone keyboard makes my sub-par writing look like English as my third language after Klingon and Swahili. Not even Apple can give me the ego boost I desperately need. 

Please excuse the lack of posting but enjoy the Tweeting! When I get around to it...if they're in English! 

Yeah. Ok. It's bad. I'll just be over there leaking and bowing to my new master. 

Community Support

I tweeted about this earlier and then really just left it alone. And now at 34 weeks pregnant, sufficiently annoyed by pants, shoes and anything that requires bending over I am in full on GFY mode. 

Here's a bit of background: I hate forums. HATE THEM. For several reasons which I will now list and people will either argue with or ignore. Don't care. 

1) PEOPLE SPELL SHIT WRONG. All the time. 
"It seams like..." Seams? like SEWING SEAMS? Those are actual things. 
"Dissappointed" - Wait - were you appointed to a position of some sort then dissed? That must be what you mean! 

This makes me crazy. Most internet browsers will tell you when something is spelled wrong. And for people who find homonyms confusing I invite them to repeat 9th grade. 

2) Everything ends in LOL - especially if it has no punctuation.
"all my bras don't fit I started off as a double G lol"
Are you boobs laughing? Are they laughing out loud because your bras don't fit? FIND ME A COMMA DAMMIT. 

3) People have nothing else to do. 

CAVEAT: Pregnancy forums have plenty of people on bed rest so I get that - you do nothing day in and day out. Talking to people online is a good way to keep yourself sane. NOTED. 

Here are some fun questions:
"Why is it so dead here today?" 
"No one has heard from mrsjennisbabymama"
"WHY DIDN'T YOU READ THE FAQs?" 

OK look. I get that there's a forum etiquette. Totally get that and really most, if not all, of my random pregnancy Google searches link me directly to several forums that I don't participate in often, if at all. Working in the digital industry I know Google works something like this: 
You:  "FIND ME THIS"
Goggle: "OK HERE ARE ALL THE THINGS I HAVE FOUND FOR YOU! The ones at the top say this shit the most. I did it in about -.124379603471 seconds because I am better at the internet." 
You: All hail the great oracle Google. 

This last one bothers me the most. I am very very lucky to be surrounded by friends with toddlers and babies who remember the pregnant days, the first few weeks, etc. Some are on their second pregnancy and most are quick to answer any question/panic I have. And thank God for them as I have made the "ummmm is this normal?!" phone call about poop, pain, hair, skin and husbands. But I know there are people that don't have a community to go to. Maybe they're the first having children of all their friends or their mom isn't present. Frankly, my mom barely remembers anything and what she does remember is a bit obsolete. She'll say that as well. Whatever the reasons people come to forums such as The Bump or What To Expect to vent and ask questions; what they don't come for is belittling or assholery. So when someone posts a question about insurance or breast feeding and is immediately told in the tone of posted already jackass to search the other threads, I get a little heated. And then people who have spent their lives on these forums building signatures and coming up with adorable little lingo (DD: dear daughter or DS: dear son) make "sticky posts" that say shit like NEWBIES: Please read and This What a Non-Repeat Post Looks Like! Only you know, shit's spelled wrong and there's arguments like "we've been friends for EIGHT WHOLE MONTHS and have been talking about this 4EVA" and I get a whole lot of heated. And then maybe, I say something. Or maybe I don't because fighting with people is useless and so frustrating. Plus that's what I use this blog for - venting about stupid people. 

Does this bug anyone else? Are forums as irritating to everyone else or is it just me? 

A Most Disconcerting Event

Before anyone loses it: 

1) I am fine

2) Raptor is fine

In fact, we're all doing peachy. RaptorDad begins a new job today - one that will challenge him AND give him three weeks paternity leave! Woo Hoo for amazing insurance and benefits! 

Friday, on my way to the job I have slowly grown to loathe, a very nice man rear-ended me. Stop. Wait. Please see above.

Everyone calm now? Great. He drives an Acura Sedan and I drive a Honda Pilot. The sedan plead no contest and racked up ~$5K in damages. The Pilot brushed off its shoulders gangsta style and soldiered on. No airbag went off. The seatbelt was on and really he took one look at 8 mos of Raptor growth and most likely shit his pants. 

However, my darling husband came running the moment I texted and urged me to call the doctor. Raptor spent a good part of the morning using my ribs/lungs as a punching bag - evidently unscathed - however I acquiesced. 

I left a message on my way to purgatory; the nurse immediately called back and all but ordered my ass into the doctors office. They ushered me in right away (when does that happen?!) and strapped me to a monitor. Guys this is not how I wanted to spend my Friday. After 25 min of marking Raptor movements and general roundhouses to my kidneys, the doc was all get thee to L&D! Because any sort of "trauma" requires at least FOUR HOURS OF MONITORING. That's right. Hospital gown, hospital bed, nurses, IVs - ALL THE THINGS. 

Then came a cervical exam - those are decidedly not fun. Unfun. Completely devoid of all enjoyment/comfort. And then the medical powers-that-be decided I should have an ultrasound! Joy! Rapture! We get to see the Raptor. And right then and there I knew ... our surprise was about to be ruined. Because even though I told the tech we didn't know the gender and didn't want to know the gender, some small part of my brain just knew she was going to spill it. Look, the Raptor is running out of room and the tech was doing her job checking for any placental ruptures, fluid leaking, anatomy, etc. Never mind the Raptor spent 20 minutes practicing a cross-jab on the heart monitor or that three nurses spent the better part of the afternoon staring at my vag chasing the little shit around trying to get an accurate heartbeat reading, we had to have an ultrasound. So while telling us that the Raptor had hiccups, the fluid and placenta looked fine she moseyed over to the naughty bits and RaptorDad saw. He saw and knew. Thankfully I wasn't paying attention and then she said it, " Baby ____ is doing just fine." I turned slowly and just looked at her, more bewildered than angry and quietly said, "You just told us what we were having." Poor woman felt so bad, apologized profusely and swore she had never done that before. Nothing like being the first! Alright RaptorReaders - do you want to know? Not want to know? I am giving you the choice since apparently ours was taken from us!!! (Oh the melodrama!) 

Things on my bathroom floor...

RaptorDad will need to pick up.

1 Pre-Natal Vitamin

1 Makeup Removal Cotton Pad

Makeup Sponges 

1 Distorted Bobby Pin

1 Full Travel-Size Shower Gel

Length of time on said floor: Unknown 

Chances if me picking these up: 0%