I used to have a magic baby. A sweet little bug who slept, ate, looked cute for about an hour, then went back to sleep.
I would like to have that baby back please.
Now I have a tiny little monster. Who fusses when you leave the room, and fusses once you’ve got her to sleep, and fusses because she has forgot what she was originally fussing about, and that makes her feel, well, FUSSY.
She looks like an evil sorcerer while she sleeps. Wriggling her tiny arms free of her swaddle, then flinging them triumphantly above her head once they have been liberated. Then, while still asleep, she throws them about with violent thrusts and jabs. If you try to hold them still for her, she grunts and pants. Then wriggles and jiggles until she’s awake and not pleased with the situation.
Eric and I are pretty sure she’s either conducting a symphony or using her black magic to turn us both in to giant pacifiers. Because let’s face it, when it comes to her we’re suckers.
So if she sleeps, even if it’s like a sorcerer, one would conclude that I get to sleep. No, no, not the case. At night she manages to make just enough noise and commotion so that her mother doesn’t get any sleep. And if I do start to drift off, she decides to throw in one of those isolated screams I’ve mentioned before. Or she cries just enough to get me out of bed and to pick her up, but not enough to wake herself up. And during the day, she sleeps best if music blasts loudly. Most specifically The Cure’s acoustic album or any Daft Punk. Yes, she must be European at heart because she LOOOOVES any sort of horribly loud techno. I’m not kidding, the louder the better. Which is great for her, but mommy + daft punk does not = sleep.
But to be fair, it’s not entirely her fault I don’t sleep. I’m horrible at falling asleep after I wake up, no matter how tired I am. And I also have a really hard time taking naps. Which is why I’m not taking one now. Yeah, I know, I’m screwed.
So this morning, after no less than 4 hours of me trying to get her to settle down for long enough so that I could add to my 3 hours of sleep from last night, I finally gave up.
I decided to stop crying from exhaustion and come to grips with the fact that I will never sleep again. Or at least not any time in the foreseeable future. And the more I want sleep, and think about sleep, the worse my life will be. So I’ve decided to surrender to sleeplessness, and let myself exist in a state of barely conscious stupor. That way I’m too dumb to get upset about it.
I’ve also decided to reward myself for being patient. I give myself gold stars for saying, “Oh baby I love you, mommy is here.” When she cries instead of a sarcastic, “What are you crying about?! You just had a three hour nap and have fresh milk on tap.”
So this morning, after an almost completely sleepless night (Eric does get up and take over for part of the night by the way, I just can’t fall back asleep. Eric is an angel.) and a completely sleepless morning, I put the bug in the car seat, and drove to Kneader’s for their ridiculously fatty, ridiculously yummy french toast with fresh whipped cream, strawberries, and that buttery maple syrup. And then we (meaning I) ate ALL of it, in the car while listening to a Pandora’s Daft Punk station. She slept, I ate, and Daft Punk jammed. Baby weight be damned.
All in all, I know I have a fairly reasonable baby. It’s not like this everyday, and I know a lot of moms have it much, much, worse. But I just needed to vent for a bit. I find it’s best to see the humor in these things when possible. If possible.
So I bid you all goodnight. And pray that if I’m not sleeping, that at least you are.
Well let’s all face it, this is Ginger’s blog now. And it is SHE who is one month old, obviously, not me. And she is one month and a few days old, to be precise. My little bug is getting so big! Logically I know that she is in fact quite small, but with those tiny bodies each ounce makes a huge difference!
One-month-old babies don’t do much, but Eric and I are still thoroughly entertained by Ginger every minute she decides to be awake. Even when those minutes are at 2 and 5 in the morning. And even when those minutes turn to hours. Hours of us asking her to sleep, and her looking at us like, “Um, I slept all day, why would I want to sleep now?” Then she bats her big eyes and puckers her lips to mock us.
Eric and I have also decided that we could make a Halloween Soundtrack with all of Ginger’s noises. Isolated screams, violent snorts, creaks, squeaks, squawks and a particularly lovable, but creepy, goat sound. She’s like regular foley artist that one! We’re so proud.
Most recently our princess has started to get some serious baby acne. Eric and I feel so shallow, and try not to let it bother us, but we wonder if it’s maybe how our parents felt about us when we were 13 and going through puberty. “Oh honey, I don’t love you any less, I just love you most when your skin is clear…” I JOKE I KID. We’ve just decided to invest in some baby accutane. I JOKE I KID AGAIN. Ever since I was accused of being a cat killer on my blog, I get so worried that people can’t take a joke! So I will clearly state I love my baby, and no, I’m not going to put anything other than baby-safe soap on her face. That, and a brown paper bag. BADDA BING!
Well, I’ll stop my rambling and get to the good stuff. Annotated pictures of my baby from the last few weeks.
Here she is in baby jail. I made her that little shirt from another one of my old shirts. It was supposed to be a dress, but hey, I never claimed to be a seamstress.
And here are Gigi and daddy just chillin like villains. Eric likes to act like he’s not waking her up, “She was opening her eyes!” Play with her, and then say, “Oh, looks like she wants to eat…” once she starts fussing. DADDIES!
And here’s the bug getting her first bath! I love the puj tub and highly reccomend it. She looks skeptical, but actually loves the water.
And here she is trying to fit into some fancy pants! She’s showing off her birth mark, which I hope turns into something to deter her from showing her midriff to men in the future…hey, a mother can dream.
And just in case you needed some more, you know, for the road. Here’s a few more beauty shots.
And this one sums up why we call her “the bug.”
Well I hope you’re all well. I have lots more to share on my insights into motherhood…you know, cause I’ve been a mom for a month so I’m an expert. Oh, and also stay tuned for Ginger’s distinct taste in music.
First off, Eric and I read, and reread, all of your sweet, loving comments congratulating us, and they make us feel warm and tingly! Well, Eric probably won’t admit to being tingly, but he does love to check the blog and read them. So thank you! As you who are parents know, you never, and I mean never, tire of other people being excited about your new bundle of joy.
Ginger has now totally recovered from her jaundice. She was our little glow worm for a few days after being hospitalized. They sent us home with this blue light she had to be wrapped up with. A neon hue illuminated her tiny body at all times. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t fun and it definitely added stress for me, the already stressed out mother. I imagine no parent likes to see a hose coming out of their child’s blanket! But now it’s gone! And I love being able to feed her without getting blinded by blue and having the lyrics to David Bowie’s “Sound and Vision” stuck in my head. Though I must say, she was the cutest glow worm I’ve ever seen.
My mom has been in town helping me out, so I’m actually hanging in there. I know that when my dear, sweet, angel of a mother…who brings me ice water as I nurse, magically whips up delicious meals, cleans the kitchen and bathroom as I nap, plays with Gigi while I shower, and even sleeps over a few nights to help me get sleep…leaves, reality is going to sink in. But fortunately I think Ginger is sweet enough to make up for it. Right people? RIGHT?!
As for pictures, on the one hand I want to share every picture I possibly can of her. On the other hand, she is so precious and tender and magical to me, I almost feel crass posting her sweetness on the web. But that’s something I’ll probably get over because she is too cute not to want to share.
But the MAIN problem with pictures, and I’m guessing this is a major temptation/problem for a lot of parents, is that I want to annotate every picture I take of her! I cannot simply take a picture and let it be! NO! I have to take a picture and then make up some quote for Ginger. You know what I mean right, like a picture of her squinting and then a caption of, “Get that light outta my face mom!” Really ripe comedy stuff like that!
The problem with annotated baby pictures, and I’m not criticizing those of you who do this because it’s almost impossible not to, but the reality is that they are usually a lot funnier to the parents and Grandparents, then they are to anyone else.
But this is where I have a problem. I know they aren’t really that funny, I am conscious of the fact they should mostly be accompanied with a “wakka wakka” after them, and yet, I still, for some reason think I’m some exception to the rule! “I’m a copywriter!” I reason, “This is what I do for a living! Write captions to pictures! People pay me to do this! Hallmark paid me to do this!” And then I come up with all sorts of wise cracks “from Ginger” and think I’m SO FUNNY. Like honestly, the funniest person in the world.(It could be the lack of sleep.)
And so I have to stop myself from just posting picture after picture, and then littering them with my “Gingerisms.” Because really, is it fair to assign a voice and character to someone who is not yet able to do it for themselves? Probably not. THEN AGAIN, now that I’m not pregnant anymore, I know how HORRIBLY MISERABLE I really was, and I feel sort of entitled.
So now that I’ve recognized the problem, I will do my best to avoid it, but at the same time, I can’t promise to circumnavigate it entirely. Because like I said, I still think I’m pretty darn funny. And yes, I’m a mom, I guess I say darn now because that’s what came out naturally!
Anyway. I can tell this whole mom business is going to take some SERIOUS getting used to. But I’m so horribly infatuated, dizzy in love, enamored, and taken with my baby, that I don’t even care.
Isn’t is amazing how long you can stare at your newborn? It reminds me of when Eric and I were engaged. When you’re just SO IN LOVE you can stare and stare for hours and hours, and it’s more entertaining than anything else in the world. Every coo, every noise, every change in their expression is a monumental event. Each thrust of their tiny hand, or kick of that small yet powerful leg that used to be lodged in your ribs…is worthy of celebration. How can something that hardly weighs 7 pounds have such complete and total control over you? It’s beyond beautiful. It’s a miracle. I know, I know, I’m such a mom.
So here are a few more pictures of our beautiful little lady. I embroidered that “G” on the onesie. Ginger wore it out of the hospital. Both the Grandma’s honestly at first thought that the “G” was for grandma…Yeah, she’s the first grandchild on BOTH sides of the family.
And how AMAZING is that sweater! A friend and neighbor of mine knit it for her! This girl has three boys, and is pregnant with her fourth (a girl)! And she still busted this sweater out! I want one in my size. You should check out her blog. SNICKERDOODLE, she’s a knitting/craft genius.
And this is how Ginger felt about her blue light.
And this is my favorite face she makes.
Don’t you just want to kiss her?
Alright, well the princess is snorting and hiccuping, which means I’m being summoned. But I love you all. Again, thank you for your love and excitment. I hope that happy, joyous things are taking place in your life as well. And if not, well, I hope you are at least enjoying beautiful Fall, and the freedom to go get a diet coke whenever you want :).
Introducing Ginger Jane Robertson. Born Friday, September 17 at 3:06pm, 7lbs 4 oz
Though we had a bit of a rough patch with some jaundice and weight loss (not mine unfortunately and having to go back to the hospital, we are home now, loving our little lady bug. She is perfect, perfect perfect. I made her that dress from an old shirt of mine, thinking it would be too small to ever fit her. Don’t worry, I added some fall appropriate warmth for our big outing to the doctors.
We love you all. Thanks for all your love and support!