Urban Drool

The days of Tuesday, November 21, 2006 through Monday, November 27, 2006 have a name.

Tis' not "Thanksgiving Week, 2006"

But instead, "A Very Lumi Holiday, 2006: The Vomitorium Tour"

Things I've learned:

Baby barf is bright pink if the baby has recently eaten cranberry jelly.

I have exceeded my own personal record for highest number of poops in one day (a.k.a. "the big 17")

If your baby has barfed more than 8 times in 12 hours, and is unable to keep even 1 ounce of water down, you're supposed to go to the hospital.

The organic, free range, $42 turkey that was supposed to be the tastiest damn thing this side of Sara Lee turned out to be the dryest, most taste-less thing I have put in my mouth in recent memory.

Men are the biggest fucking wimps imaginable. The same ailment that I had to suffer through (still managing to run to drug stores and empty the dishwasher and dish out soup and pour and administer Pedialyte) had my Boy and my father bed ridden and instructing me what to do with their remains, for lo', they were indeed soon to perish.

You can indeed launder your entire household's stock of bed sheets, towels and blankets in one day. Twice.

You will in fact go out and buy a Christmas tree, all by yourself, when you should really be fucking resting and recovering, becuase your husband really, really, really wants a Christmas tree. That day. But is too sick to go with you to get it. And you go and get it. So that he can spend the rest of the day in the bedroom (with the lights off, and the space heater going full blast), totally ignoring the very nice tree which you dragged in and set up in the living room.

You will not get (too) angry with him about the immediate aforementioned, due to the fact that he has a 101.5 degree temperature, a sinus infection, and a prescription for antibiotics from his doctor.

But you still bitch about it on your blog.

Happy Thanksgiving. I think next year the baby and I will go to Aruba instead.

I don’t remember 100% of those days and weeks…the last days before she came and the couple weeks that followed her arrival. That time comes back to me in teeny bits and snatches – like a surreal dream. But the small pieces of memory I do have are startlingly clear and sharp.

-The sheer weight of my enormous belly…dragging, stretching and in my opinion, not a very pretty sight.
-The bright red dots of blood in the bathroom sink after brushing my teeth in the mornings…horrible, awful bleeding gums
-The way my blue cotton bathrobe and matching slippers looked in my first hospital room…so carefully hung up by the Boy
-The sound of me peeing into that ridiculous plastic-measuring-over-the-toilet thing that the nurses insisted on me using
-The nervous giggling the Boy was unable to stop when I told him my water had broken and was dripping all over the floor
-The smell of the orange and lemon scented cold towels that my doula used to wipe my face
-The metallic sound of the bed rails being slammed together in even, steady repetition…bang, bang, bang…growing progressively faster in tempo as every contraction peaked and eventually subsided. For 23 hours.
-The dry, crinkly feel of the blue paper that hung down and tickled my mouth and throat during the C-section
-The sound of her first cry
-The very hot and very wet and very heavy feel of her body when they pulled her out of me and flopped her onto my upper thighs while they suctioned her (and me) out
-The tiny little square shaped button, very green and always lit at night, with a jaunty little white nurses cap painted in the middle. That little button on the side of my bed in my post-partum room. A push of that button and my little white percoset would be whisked in to me. Every 4 hours. Like clockwork, baby.
-The smell of the disgusting omlette with the single slice of Kraft American cheese melted on top that was the “main course” from my “breakfast tray” every morning. I never did understand why over $30,000 in hospital charges couldn’t include halfway decent food.
-The sight of my white, thick milk whizzing out of my left nipple and zinging across the living room under the industrious and very pinching fingers of the nurse who came to my house the week after we got home to examine the boo-bear and me.
-The hooting sound of my laughter in immediate reaction to the point listed above
-Her smell. Her amazing smell. Her incomparable smell. A combination of Aveeno lotion, warm milk, soft hair and pure, heavenly baby. My God, is there anything more intoxicating then a newborn?
-The sight of her umbilical cord stump, gray and shriveled and dry…after it fell off, we kind of put it on top of the TV set and then kind of…forgot about it. It sat there for weeks…right next to the never-used remote for the DVD player.

So strange. I’ll never really understand how I can simultaneously feel like I never EVER want to go through it all again, but deeply desire to have it all repeat itself starting tomorrow morning.

I feel like I need to update the internet about the update that I posted last Friday becuase seriously I got six comments and I cannot remember the last time I got six comments and am I really a comment whore like I accuse my poor Boy of being but back to the matter at hand the Firm I really wanted to get a job offer from hasn't contacted me yet despite the fact they said that they hoped to have a decision made by last Friday so I went to a second interview at another Firm which would be fine to work at but not as nice as the first Firm and I think that second interview went really well becuase they want me to come back for a third and final time this week and so we shall see what happens there it's going to be weird though because that Firm is "professional office dress only" which means I would have to shlep to work in nylons and pumps and suits every fucking day and man I really don't want to do that but at least it wouldn't be at this damn place but you know what I was really surprised last Saturday at how well my visit with my friend went and I think we are going to be able to reconnect plus the baby really loved her and she had lots of lovely gifties for the baby and all in all it was a great Saturday which was good becuase Sunday kind of sucked what with the baby being amazingly cranky and me starting to get a nasty head cold and maybe an ear infection but at least my Boy came home with chocolate peanut butter chip cookies.