I want it so much I’m almost rabid and drooling.

Here is the thing. I’ve become “That” mom. The one that lets herself go. The one that is wearing the same hair she’s had for years and years.

The one that I swore I would never be.

I am excited to go to BlogHer but I am also dreading it.

DREADING IT.

I do not feel so great about myself right now. I’m 20lbs overweight, I have no clothes that fit me, I’m usually covered in and reek of baby vomit, and I walk around looking pretty hideous most of the time.

Want proof??

Here you go:

Lovely, no?

I think that the close up is even better. I love how my eyes are even going in different directions. (I am totally awesome.)

I’m poor as hell right now. Between not having the pregnancy and delivery of our sweet little butterbean covered by insurance and moving and getting the house we’re moving back into liveable, I don’t have two nickles to rub together. For the last year it’s been Sauve hair products, I have gone to Great Clips to get a trim and the few times I’ve colored my hair, it’s been out of a box from WalMart.

It looks like crap.

Even on days when it gets “styled” it is so boring. Straight, long’ish’ layers, faded color. BORING BORING BORING. Inventive style, a great cut and good color takes money and time…things I have been woefully short on as of late.

I know I could look worse. I am grateful that I got one of the volunteer slots to pay for my conference so that I can go to BlogHer at all. I could be fatter, uglier, poorer and blah, blah, blah. I know all of that.

I just feel so unsure of myself lately. It’s a grody feeling. It would be nice to have ONE thing about my physical appearance that makes me feel pretty. Confident. Like I can walk into a room of people without someone thinking “DEAR GOD WHAT IS THAT THING?!?!!!”

Since I’m mic wrangling during sessions I will be visible to an awful lot of people and I wish I felt better about myself when so many eyes will be looking at me. I can live with having a post-baby muffin top and I’m not terribly concerned about clothes. Which is good because there is not much I can do between now and then about my weight and I doubt that there will miraculously be funds for me to get new clothes. Having non-fugly hair, though? Well, it would go a LONG way in helping me feel more at ease.

So, Heather, Danielle and Susan?

I humbly ask you to consider me for your hair makeover. I’ll still love you either way, but man…I could use some serious, serious de-skeezing in the hair department.

There’s not much I can do about the whole “Smelling like baby vomit” thing, so my apologies in advace to everyone gathering in Chicago.

“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!

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.

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.

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 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…

Yup. BACK TO THE HOUSE WE MOVED FROM A YEAR AGO.

I know, I know. I can’t decide if this is a really good thing or the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

THE REASONS WHY:

When my insurance company declared my pregnancy a pre-exisiting condition, it blew all our savings and plans to buy or build a house. That has been difficult to swallow. We have QUITE a medical bill to chip away at now, along with the previous debt we had. We can meet our monthly obligations but we are just treading water-not making any real headway on our debt and things have been depressingly tight. Since Jonathan just got a raise he has already increased what is coming in so now we need to cut expenses.

Jonathan and his partners cut an entire department of their company that wasn’t profitable, so the employees fit nicely into the basement unit and the top (where we used to live) is vacant.

My parents found out that if they do not rent a portion of the house as a residence they will lose the grandfathering of it (since it’s in a commercial zone) a year from when the business obtained a city business license. This means they could never rent it as a residential unit again. So, the top unit must be rented out to someone; it might as well be us.

THE CONS

SPACE: Dude. This is a huge one. It was a tight fit in that place and now we have another baby. However, since Jon doesn’t need a home office anymore it will give us an additional room to play with. And I INSIST that we will not take everything back into the house. THAT will be a great incentive to declutter. I’ll either dispose of or give away the surplus, anything old, broken or unnecessary. If we have to, we’ll rent a storage unit.

ONE BATHROOM: This is right up there with space. I went from one bathroom to three and the thought of losing my master suite and walk in closet makes me WEEP. I WILL BE SHARING WITH 3 FREAKING BOYS. GAH! I hate sharing bathrooms with boys. You clean and get it shiny and lovely and withing seconds they have it smelling like a locker room/contaminated swamp area. My heart hurts thinking about it.

NO GARAGE: I will hate that, but it will be much more painful for my husband.

THE PEOPLE: Um. There are just some people around that I don’t care for. The eleventyhundred people packed into the house next door would be one example.

THE AREA: It’s just not the most esthetically great neighborhood. It’s fine starting about three streets up but where I am is just not that awesome. The area around my house is occupied by a crumbling silo, a tractor store, storage units, a school and a polygamist compound. (Ok, it’s not really a polygamist compound. It’s a bunch of cabins some guy threw down to rent out. But it TOTALLY looks like one.)

I HATE GOING BACKWARD/BAD MEMORIES: We had good memories in the house but we also had a WHOLE LOT of shitty ones. My son dying in my bedroom would be one of those. Since I have an infant that will be almost the exact same age as him and that is resembling him more by the day, I worry about it and what it will bring back, etc. I imagine the anniversary of his death in September will be very hard living there.

I left. I moved on. I don’t want to go back. It’s kind of like moving back in with your parents. Still, I know that even though it seems like we are going backward, if we stick to our goals it will catapult us forward in the end. (Hopefully)

THE PROS

WE WILL SAVE MONEY: Quite a significant amount of money for us. To the tune of 1,200 to 1,400 a month. That will really add up. Will have to crunch the numbers some more but I am hoping to be out of debt in a year at most and then depending on how things go, any additional funds from time we stay further will be used for a house down payment. How long that is will depend on the market, interest rates and what we look to spend.

WE WILL HAVE A YARD AGAIN. My boys and I have missed this TERRIBLY. I miss my flower gardens and working in the yard. I LIKE doing yard work. I miss my riding lawn mower. I miss having parties in my backyard and bonfires in our fire pit and sitting on a porch swing. The boys miss their trampoline and living next door to the school with the playground equipment.

THERE ARE SOME PLUSES TO THE HOUSE: There is a walk-in pantry which I have SORELY missed in the town house and pipes that don’t shriek when the water is turned on. There are gas hookups and I have missed cooking with a gas stove and my washer and dryer that hold more than 3 pairs of jeans. I LOVE my front porch and I think my house is pretty dang cute from the outside. We worked hard on improving the house, replacing the flooring, redoing the small and ONE bathroom.

I WILL GET MY CAT BACK. Wilbur has been an outside/office kitty for a year and I miss her terribly. We will probably still keep her outside but she will be able to come in on cold nights. She may be a total ho of a cat that likes to fornicate loudly outside my window, but I have really, really missed the little fur ball.

THE PEOPLE: There are people I really like in the area and my kids have some friends there. Their schooling situations will not be changed from what we wanted.

JONATHAN WILL WORK AT HOME 3 OUT OF 5 DAYS A WEEK: This is the single BIGGEST reason I am agreeing to this. Right now, my husband doesn’t come home until 7, 8 or 9 at night. He is MISSING tons of time with our baby and our two older boys and that is the single most important thing in the world. When Matthew was born Jon worked out of the basement office and it was WONDERFUL. He came upstairs all the time to see us and cuddle the baby. We ate lunch together and he was available to let the baby hang out while he worked and I took a break and twent to get a soda, see friends, run errands without packing baby along.

It was a very sweet time for us. I think it would be even happier this time around and I want that more than anything.

There are a lot of stipulations that I have in moving back there. I have thought long and hard about what it would take to make the situation more bearable and work with me and Jonathan has agreed to them. He’s also agreed to a probationary period. If it isn’t working? We find another place to live. PERIOD.

To me, even though the thought of going back to one bathroom makes me want to curl up in the pit of despair, the pro list is by far more important for the long term happiness and well being of my family.

And at the end of the day?

You do what you gotta do to make that happen, right?

NOW IF ONLY I WASN’T SO FREAKING TIRED I COULD DIE AND THE THOUGHT OF HAVING TO PACK, CLEAN, REPAIR THIS HOUSE, PREPARE THE OLD HOUSE AND MOVE DIDN’T MAKE ME WANT TO STICK A FORK IN MY EYE, CURL IN A BALL, SUCK MY THUMB AND BABBLE INCOHERENTLY IN A CORNER.

I’m not really sure there is anything I can do about that last thing.

Wish me luck.

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.