The return of the gerund meme
Since short, disconnected thoughts are all I'm capable of these days...
Listening: For baby Ess, who will likely wake up and demand the boob any minute now. Also listening to the singer-songwriter show on public radio -- it occurs to me that we haven't had a lot of music in the house since Ess arrived. That's gotta change.
Worshipping: My local La Leche League leader, who spent 90 minutes on the phone with me Friday night, working out a plan to wean Ess from the nipple shield and to wean my body off the pumping. We're down to pumping five times a day now -- mind you, this is in addition to the oh-so-frequent nursing of little Ess -- which feels like a luxury compared to the previous eight-times-a-day schedule. Should be off the pumping completely, breasts willing, by next weekend. Getting rid of the nipple shield will take a bit longer, but we're already making solid progress on that front. To add to the LLL leader's glory, she offered to get together at a mutual friend's house on Wednesday to help me get comfortable with the slings I own. (Ess is so tiny -- though by tomorrow she'll hit the six-pound mark -- that I am very nervous about getting her positioned correctly in what seems like the swaths of fabric in both slings I own. With D going back to work on Wednesday, figuring out the sling is essential to my continued sanity.)
Mourning: The loss of dairy in my diet. Seems that Ess is allergic to dairy -- we had a few successively more miserable nights this week, culminating in a terrible night after a dinner of cheese ravioli. After 36 hours without dairy, Ess is back to her steady, chipper, sleepy self. So no more ice cream for me this summer. But if that's the tradeoff necessary to get some decent chunks of sleep -- if you call 2.5 hours "decent" -- then I will gladly forego the milkshakes. And the cones. And the root beer floats. And the daily bowl of cereal. And cheese, glorious cheese. Which, oh god, means no more pizza. Yikes.
Planning: To make banana bread, a dairy-free recipe for which I found here. Gotta have something around to satisfy that sweet tooth, and sorbet just ain't gonna cut it. (I'm going to use applesauce instead of the margarine.)
Squeezing: Into my most forgiving pair of pre-pregnancy jeans. It's not a pretty picture, but at least I own something without an elastic waistband that (sort of) fits. Maybe the lack of dairy means the old fabulous jeans will fit again one day soon? I sort of doubt it, but you can always dream...
Lurking: On just about every blog I read. Like everything else I do for myself these days, catching up on blogs happens in short spurts that I'm always convinced will end imminently (and, usually, they do). So apologies for the total lack of commenting -- or, for that matter, replying to email -- lately. I'm hoping that will change at some point in the near-ish future...
Loving: My fabulous husband, who has done 100% of the cleaning, shopping and laundry at Chez MC for the last several weeks. Not to mention 99% of the frantic wife-consoling and 50+% of the poopy-diaper changing. He's a rock star, as is our beautiful little one. She certainly has changed our lives completely, just as the cliche goes, but we wouldn't trade her for anything.
Disbelieving: The fact that I actually finished this post the same day I started writing it, albeit eight hours later.
Listening: For baby Ess, who will likely wake up and demand the boob any minute now. Also listening to the singer-songwriter show on public radio -- it occurs to me that we haven't had a lot of music in the house since Ess arrived. That's gotta change.
Worshipping: My local La Leche League leader, who spent 90 minutes on the phone with me Friday night, working out a plan to wean Ess from the nipple shield and to wean my body off the pumping. We're down to pumping five times a day now -- mind you, this is in addition to the oh-so-frequent nursing of little Ess -- which feels like a luxury compared to the previous eight-times-a-day schedule. Should be off the pumping completely, breasts willing, by next weekend. Getting rid of the nipple shield will take a bit longer, but we're already making solid progress on that front. To add to the LLL leader's glory, she offered to get together at a mutual friend's house on Wednesday to help me get comfortable with the slings I own. (Ess is so tiny -- though by tomorrow she'll hit the six-pound mark -- that I am very nervous about getting her positioned correctly in what seems like the swaths of fabric in both slings I own. With D going back to work on Wednesday, figuring out the sling is essential to my continued sanity.)
Mourning: The loss of dairy in my diet. Seems that Ess is allergic to dairy -- we had a few successively more miserable nights this week, culminating in a terrible night after a dinner of cheese ravioli. After 36 hours without dairy, Ess is back to her steady, chipper, sleepy self. So no more ice cream for me this summer. But if that's the tradeoff necessary to get some decent chunks of sleep -- if you call 2.5 hours "decent" -- then I will gladly forego the milkshakes. And the cones. And the root beer floats. And the daily bowl of cereal. And cheese, glorious cheese. Which, oh god, means no more pizza. Yikes.
Planning: To make banana bread, a dairy-free recipe for which I found here. Gotta have something around to satisfy that sweet tooth, and sorbet just ain't gonna cut it. (I'm going to use applesauce instead of the margarine.)
Squeezing: Into my most forgiving pair of pre-pregnancy jeans. It's not a pretty picture, but at least I own something without an elastic waistband that (sort of) fits. Maybe the lack of dairy means the old fabulous jeans will fit again one day soon? I sort of doubt it, but you can always dream...
Lurking: On just about every blog I read. Like everything else I do for myself these days, catching up on blogs happens in short spurts that I'm always convinced will end imminently (and, usually, they do). So apologies for the total lack of commenting -- or, for that matter, replying to email -- lately. I'm hoping that will change at some point in the near-ish future...
Loving: My fabulous husband, who has done 100% of the cleaning, shopping and laundry at Chez MC for the last several weeks. Not to mention 99% of the frantic wife-consoling and 50+% of the poopy-diaper changing. He's a rock star, as is our beautiful little one. She certainly has changed our lives completely, just as the cliche goes, but we wouldn't trade her for anything.
Disbelieving: The fact that I actually finished this post the same day I started writing it, albeit eight hours later.
posted by mc at 6:57 PM
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