“Jon? I know we’ve decided to go with the AWESOMELY priced used knotty alder cabinets** for the kitchen instead of IKEA, but my mom is worried that you have some doubts about them.”

“No, I think it will be fine.”

“I know that. I just need you to not voice any doubts or problems you have to my mom because then she gets uncertain and I hear about it over and over until I feel pressure to fix and correct the problem.”

“Really? In that case, instead of complaining to your mom about cabinets I should tell her that I need WAY more blow jobs.”

blink, blink, blinkity-blink, blink.

“Dude. That would SO be grounds for divorce in some countries!!!”

“EXACTLY.”

**Huge, huge thanks and kisses to the awesome-cabinet-owning-friend who knows who she is. xo!

In addition to having a 6-wk-old, major back suck and moving?

We ripped out the entire kitchen and laundry area of the house and have 2 weeks to finish it all and get moved in.

Yup.

Crazy is the new black, yo.

This?

Is how I am still somewhat sane and/or not dead. My secret weapon against all sorts of suckitude. 26 seconds of bliss, y’all. How can multiple nightly feedings be bothersome when I get to look at THAT?
Thanks, little butterbean.
You are saving your mama.
I think you’re way better than Zoloft.

xoxoxo

*Kudo points if you name the film the title was taken from.

*Edit:I’ve gotten a lot of email and DM’s urging me to get on medication. I have been on 50 mg a day of Zoloft since I delivered to try and avoid PPD, so I am not sure if I am doing something wrong or if it is just that there is uber amounts of stress in my life. xo

A familiar voice has been whispering to me.

It crept up quietly amongst joyous ruckus.

I almost didn’t hear it at first; I was so loud and gleeful and it was so soft and tiny.

I tried to ignore it.

Tried to prevent it.

Tried to make my genuine joy stomp it out.

But it keeps coming no matter what I do.

Getting louder and louder.

“You are struggling.”

It is unwelcome.

Unsettling.

Unfair.

Please, please, please.

Go the fuck away.

And never, ever come back.

*Edit: Added Post Scripts (I know) about who is going to follow who and blah blah blah.

Hi, Bloggity People!

This is Baby Looney Tunes. Not only is this my very first blog post, but I also did my very first tweet today!

I liked it so much my mom agreed to sign me up for an account!

She thought the idea would help her out, too.

I heard her telling my dad that this way she could let ME talk about most of the baby stuff going on in her life because she was writing and tweeting about me all the time. And that as ADORABLE as I am (and I totally am) not everyone is as in love with me as she is and wants to listen to tweets about me barfing in her hair. (Whatever. I am totally rad. Everyone loves me. Baby barf in hair is just an added plus. It adds protein and fragrance. Dig it.).

This way, those that can listen to baby talk go on and on and on CAN FOLLOW ME .

All the baby info and yammering she wants to do can be done without her having to create a whole separate blog just for me (even though “The Snoring Baby Burrito” would be a groovy blog name) and she can go back to mainly tweeting about her ta-ta’s and other grown up stuff for those who are not baby insane. (Um? What are ta-ta’s? Anyone? Anyone? Fry??? Fry??? Bueller????)

Isn’t my mama smart?

I’m really glad she came up with this. The way that she’s been talking to me like an idiot for the last 4 weeks I was beginning to be very afraid that she had some major brain damage going on.

So? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

FOLLOW ME, yo!

Kisses and barf buckets,

Baby Looney Tunes
(aka-”The snoring baby burrito”)

P.S. I feel bad for my mom. She gets overwhelmed trying to keep up on Twitter because she likes to talk to people and when she tries to follow too many people it makes her eyes start bleeding (or something.) Since I am totally cool and since my mom has been thinking about following everybody who followers her, she’s going to follow everyone I do and see if it makes her small attention span brain explode or if she can pull it off.

P.P.S. And I follow EVERYONE. Except for Porn Spammers. My mom says I’m too young.

P.P.S. Sadly, I think I got my mama’s Post Script gene. Luckily, I also inherited my father’s Vulcan-like control and logic. This way it doesn’t get out of hand to the ridiculous level. WHEW!

I’m moving.

I know, I know. We just moved from here only a year ago:
We left an 1100 sq. ft 1910 bungalow with a 1/2 acre, four small bedrooms, no garage, ONE bathroom and a finished basement with outside access and no access from the house above. My parents own it, but we payed the mortgage. We moved so that the company my husband owns with his brothers could use it as it is also commercially zoned.

Then we moved here:
A 1900 sq. ft brand new townhouse with 4 large bedrooms, 2 car oversize garage,a master suite, walk in closet, no pantry absolutely no yard and too small family/dining/and kitchen. (You can see photos of the whole place here)

We have been here a year now and our lease is up. We originally only planned to be here a year to 18 months while we saved for a down payment, drew up house plans and paid off some credit card debt and student loans.

It hasn’t worked out that way and now something has to change.

So, we are moving to this place…
Continue reading →

Does this answer that oft-asked question for you?
Today was a difficult day.

Honestly, I don’t feel like I have many of them, but this one was just insane. I mean, did Christopher have to fall down the stairs, the baby simultaneously vomit AND mess all over his freshly bathed NON-DIAPERED self AND have James dump an entire 44 oz glass of soda on my carpet ALL AT THE SAME TIME?! The baby was on outfit change 9 and bath 4 by 3pm for crying out loud. I am still in outfit 1 and shower 0. (GO ME!)

It kinda sucked six ways from Sunday.

Still, it’s one of the few times I’ve felt frustrated. It had to happen sometime, right?

It’s difficult to believe that little butter bean is 4 weeks old already. I mean, weren’t we just doing this?
Here are how some things have been going and some epiphanies I’ve had in the 4 weeks Sweetpea has been here.

10 years in age difference between your kids is a LOT.

24 has a LOT more energy than 34.

34 has a LOT more appreciation and patience than 24.

I am still in physical therapy for my back but am off pain killers. I take blood thinners for clot prevention and also am on Zoloft to help with any PPD. Even though I have been fine so far, I plan on staying on them for the time being. I am doing ok emotionally. It has been very…interesting. I am struggling in ways that surprise me and other things I thought would be very hard have not been. I’ll write about that later, though.

My pre-pregnancy weight was 151 lbs. I was 178 lbs at delivery and am at 167 lbs currently. That’s pretty much all I have to say about that that isn’t just a big spew of obscenities. (No comment on the Oreo situation. The numbers probably say more than I could.)

This kid has more nicknames than Carrie Bradshaw has shoes: Little Sweetpea, Little Butter Bean, So nice, So big, So very small, Gumdrop, Butterball, Squeaker, Budget, Little Button and Jack.

The one used most lately is “My Little Barf Bucket” (or just “Bucket”)because he doesn’t just spit up, he vomits freaking waterfalls (formulafalls?). OFTEN. And usually it’s right after his bath, right after getting into a clean outfit and/or right after being swaddled. I do two to three loads of his laundry a day.

My parents LOVE their (possibly) last grandchild. They come over every single weekday at 8 am to help while Jon gets ready for work and let me sleep for an hour or two. I can’t thank them enough.

I don’t know how moms with small ones can blog and keep up with everyone. I am IN AWE OF Y’ALL because I am HORRIBLE at it. You all have been so lovely and kind. I have been a totally lame internet bloggity person for, oh, a year or so now. My inbox wants to kick my ass. Sorry about that.

Typing with one hand is lame.

I suckasuckaSUCK at multitasking with a baby. I have had kids in school and a day to myself for 6 years now. Going back to having a baby that must be worked into every single thing I do will take time to readjust to. Part of my problem is that I could (and do) stare at him all day.

Because of aforementioned suckitude at multitasking, I have set priorities. Top after taking care of baby is making sure his room is tidy, well organized and well stocked. It has to be this way or I would go crazy. When he sleeps between feedings/crying/burping/barfing/changing at night I clean, fold, wash bottles, refill formula travel packs and restock and organize my diaper bag. MY room call be cluttery as hell but his? NOPE. I have to have everything on hand in a flash since he is SO fond of committing several bodily functions simultaneously and at the worst possible moment. SO? I have to make peace with my focus being on that and letting the rest of the house fall to Jon and the boys right now.

Mainly, I just want to spend as much time with him as I can. He has already changed so much. I want to stop time. I want this newborn time together to be a million times longer than it is-exhaustion, barf, poo and all. And if you knew how I feel about excrement it would tell you everything you need to know.

I love him so much.

Last year at BlogHer I had a hard time recognizing people who I love and SHOULD HAVE RECOGNIZED but didn’t because I have the memory of swiss cheese (and the muscle tone of head cheese, but that’s a story for another day).

SO!

I am creating this Flickr group with the hope of decreasing the amount of embarrassment I had last year.

I know BlogHer’s website has photos of people going but HELLO! Have you tried to scroll through it? IT IS HUGE and daunting. SO, I want this to be a more personal space for people in MY blogging world or friends of people in my blogging world I am likely to meet and love.

If you are going to BlogHer ‘09 and I’m someone you’d like to say hello to, please upload a couple of photos of yourself so I can (hopefully) not sit there blinking at you like a deer in headlights!

Everyone is free to join. If you’re roomies/friends with people I should know but have been living under a rock somewhere and don’t, tell them to come join the party! The more the merrier!!

These are the photos I uploaded:

You don’t have to submit this many photos but I thought I’d do them in various forms like with glasses, without glasses, smooshed in between other hawt bloggers, making out with people (as I am wont to do at BlogHer. Ehem.)

And that last photo? Yeah, I will undoubtedly break down with social anxiety at some point in the conference so if you see some snotting girl that looks like this (hopefully in a better looking outfit) rocking in the corner and sucking her thumb? Yeah, it’s me. Hopefully you’ll take pity and offer me a tissue. :)

CLICK HERE TO JOIN! Hopefully everyone will link, post, star, share in readers, tweet and spread the word!

Kisses n’ stuff!

Loralee

Yes, the weird as hell alien baby widget ticker thingy that was counting down my due date has been removed from my sidebar.

About damn time, huh?

The emails and commentary about that thing during the last 9-months has been amusing as hell.

Just so you know. :)

P.S. I also added Aaron to “The Cast” page if you want to investigate and (hopefully) chuckle.

P.P.S. And I’m sticking to ONE post script this time! Can you believe it?!

P.P.P.S. Wait…I just ruined it, didn’t I?

P.P.P.P.P.S. GREAT.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. AND I JUST did a million post scripts in the post I put up, like, YESTERDAY. So, I am now being totally redundant.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. What if that means that I’ve gone stale and can’t think up new material to write about? What THEN?

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Does that mean my blog is doomed to be one of “those” blogs? The kind that get so old and tired only the few faithful stick around until vultures start circling the damn thing just waiting for it to die and be abandoned? You know, the ones that lose their URL and become a site advertising online black jack and porn?

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. AND now I have to be all worried and concerned that weird pervs with gambling issues are going to be coming around from Googling keywords like “where can I play blackjack online and watch porn at the same time?”

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And what if, say, one of those pervs is like, the 1% out there that are REALLY pervy and do totally grody things like scrape my photos and photoshop obscene things on them and resale them on the black market in south east Asia???

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And what if it doesn’t just stop there, hmmm??? I mean, what if I and my stolen, modified, black market porn photos make me an underground celebrity with the pervs in South East Asia and someone tracks me down, kidnaps me and I’m sold into white slavery somewhere????? WHAT THEN, I ASK YOU?!

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Great, just GREAT! All I wanted to do is take down some out of date ticker on my blog and now I’m a victim of human trafficking that will end up with some horrible STD like swine flu of the labia.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Which would SUCK.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I really, really, REALLY need to start getting more than 2 hours of sleep a night. And possibly some professional help as well.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Still, if I DO end up as a white sex slave in some god-awful place OR with swine flu of the labia, I am TOTALLY blaming you bastard people who bitched about the weird as hell alien baby widget ticker thingy in my sidebar in the first place!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S (Just so you know.)