out of Kadesh

I wrote a post yesterday about how difficult I find breastfeeding, and put my usual complaining, sarcastic, way over-exaggerated spin on things. I was planning on posting it last night. But I couldn’t.

Recently, a girl I went to high school with gave birth to twin boys at 27 weeks. I’m friends with her on facebook, and she often updates her status with news about how they are doing. One of the boys weighs almost three pounds now, the other almost two. This is after weight gain since their birth. They are both in ICU of course, and at least one (maybe both, I’m not sure) has to wear earmuffs and eye patches to keep him from using his underdeveloped ears and eyes.

Her status yesterday boasted that she got to hold the stronger of her sons for an hour and a half, and she hoped they’d get to hold the other son soon.

Last night, I woke Noah up so I could nurse him before I went to bed, and I held him as close as I could for as long as I could. Lance came in and cuddled with us too. We just stared at him while he sleepily ate, both tearfully thinking the same thing without saying anything. Noah is healthy, so wonderfully healthy and big, and we can hold him whenever we want to. I feel ashamed that it takes hearing the hopeful status updates from a mother that rejoices in holding her baby for such a short time to make me realize how fucking blessed I am. (Sorry, Lance’s mom. There is no other word for how emphatically I mean it. I resisted the urge to type it in all caps, at least.)

I’ll probably post my oh-so-me breastfeeding post sometime later this week. But today, I’m not feeling funny enough. And I’m definitely not feeling like complaining. I’m feeling like the world’s luckiest woman. I’m feeling like I can’t wait for Noah to wake up so I can hold him again and hear him talk to me. I’m feeling painfully aware how unfair it is that a mother wouldn’t get to hold her babies or take them home with her at night. I’m feeling like praying for someone I hardly know, and asking you, dear Reader, to do the same.

This is what happens around 5:00 every day, when Noah gets fussy for no reason whatsoever and Lance and I try and distract him from the horrible, horrible world by entertaining him.

Me: “Old MacDonald had a farm!”

Together: “E-I-E-I-O!”

Me: “And on this farm he had a dog. E-I-E-I— what?”

Lance: “A dog? Really?”

Me: “What! A farm dog!”

Lance: “Huh. Ok, then.”

Me: “With a woof woof here and a woof woof there.”

Together: “Here a woof there a woof everywhere a woof woof. Old MacDonald had a farm. E-I-E-I-O!”

Me: “And on this farm he had a…. goose.”

Together: “E-I-E-I-O!”

Me: “With a… um… a honk honk here and a honk honk there, here a honk there a honk everywhere a honk honk…”

Lance: “Old MacDonald had a drunk goose. E-I-E-I-O!”

Me: “It’s not a drunk goose. It’s just a goose. Geese say ‘honk’.”

Lance: “What’s a farmer doing with a dog and a goose anyway? What kind of farmer is this?”

Me: “Fine, YOU come up with one of the animals then.”

Lance: “Ok. Old MacDonald had a farm.”

Together: “E-I-E-I-O!”

Lance: “And on this farm he had a…. rabbit.”

Me: “A rabbit? A rabbit.”

Lance: “Yes! A rabbit!”

Me: “A rabbit is certainly no more a farm animal than a dog or a goose.”

Lance: “aHEM.”

Together: “E-I-E-I-O! With a—-” [blink, blink]

…..[blink, blink, blink]

Lance: “…HERE and a — there! Here a — there a — everywhere a ———!”

Together: “Old MacDonald had a farm! E-I-E-I-O!”

Me: “What the heck does a rabbit say?”

Lance: “Let’s sing something else.”

We went to a Nashville tourist trap, the Loveless Cafe, for dinner tonight. They have amazing biscuits and southern food, and if you eat there more than once every six months, you automatically gain 25 pounds. In fact, nine out of ten Loveless diners are morbidly obese. (I am not making this statistic up, as I counted nine morbidly obese people out of the ten people sitting at tables around us.) I’ll be eating salads for two weeks to counteract the fried catfish and hashbrown casserole I wolfed down tonight. BUT IT WAS WORTH IT. (Plus, no I won’t, who am I kidding?)

On the way back, in our new Prius, something beeped, and we’re like, “what was that?” We’re still figuring out this car, you see. 30 seconds later, it beeped again.

BEEP
Me: “Are you buckled?”
Lance: “Yes… are you?”
Me: [checking] “Yes.”
BEEP
Lance: “Is a car door still open?”
Me: “Shouldn’t it like, give us an icon or something if that’s so?”
Lance: “Yeah… I think I’ve seen those icons on the dash…”
BEEP
Lance: “I mean WHAT IS THE POINT of BEEPING without giving us any idea what’s going on?”
Me: “Maybe we should pull over.”
BEEP
Me: “I think… [looking around] I think it’s coming from your keys. Maybe your key battery is dying?”
Lance: “No… I don’t think it does that…”
BEEP
Me: “Well let’s turn off the car and turn it back on again. Maybe it needs, like, a reboot.”
[we try this at the next light]
BEEP
[I unbuckle my seat belt]
BOOP
Me: “Ok, so the CAR beep is a totally different tone. Which means it’s definitely coming from your key.”
[Lance takes his key out, looks at it, puts it back in]
BEEP
Lance: “Definitely not. Is it my phone?”
[sticks his hand in his pocket and pulls out the pager from the restaurant]
Lance: [holding it up] “Damn it.”
Me: “Are you kidding me? Now what are we supposed to do with this stupid thing?”
Lance: “We should probably turn around and give it back.”
BEEP!
Me: “I was thinking more about throwing it out the window.”
Lance: “Those things are expensive! Let’s turn around.”
Me: “No! We’re already halfway home!”
Lance: “Well, it’s not like we have anywhere to be.”
Me: “Not true, we have to get home so we’re not stuck on the road when Noah wakes up and wants to eat.”
BEEP!
Lance: “Well I guess let’s just keep it until next time we come to Loveless, whenever that will be.”
Me: “Ok… but it’s so annoying, beeping all the time. It’s louder now, outside your pocket.”
[I stick it in the glove box]
BEEP
Lance: “That really didn’t help at all.”
[I take out of the glove box]
BEEP!
Me: “Well we have to do something with this damn thing!”
Lance: “Want me to sit on it?”
Me: “I can sit on it.”
[I sit on it]

[utter silence]

Me: “Why isn’t it beeping?”
Lance: “Because you’re sitting on it.”
Me: “What! Are you saying my ass is completely sound absorbant?”
Lance: “Well, the butt is the biggest muscle…”
Me: “Still… it seems like it should just be muffled or something.”
[I take it out from under me]
BEEP!
Me: “Damn.”
[I sit on it again]

[utter silence]

Me: “Geez! My ass is so big it’s completely absorbing that high-pitched beeping sound!? I gotta lose some weight.”
Lance: “Here, let me sit on it. I’ll show you, it’s just the butt muscle.”
[I give it to Lance]
BEEP!
Lance: “Ok, that was the base sound.”
[sits on it]

[utter silence]

Lance: “See?”
Me: “That’s crazy! Our butts are sound-proofing. Who knew?”
[Lance gives it back to me; I sit on it]

[we forget about it, start talking about other things]

Me: “…and that’s when I told her–”
(beep)
Me: “–YES! I heard it!”

I totally disagree with the idea that Hallmark dictates a day for us to tell the person that we love how we feel, but Valentine’s Day is this weekend and I can’t just ignore it.

So what’s a poor couple to do? And by “poor” I mean, well, poor. Without cash. No phat bank.

Lance and I have had to get creative with date ideas over the years, and this V-Day will probably be spent doing one or more of the following things. I hope these 14 ideas help you celebrate this day of bloody, martyrus love.

1. Go to a used bookstore (or a mega-bookstore if you must), preferably one with coffee, and browse books while you sip lattes. Bonus points if you pick out a photo or travel book and look through it together!

2. Clear away furniture, spread out a blanket on the floor, and have a picnic. Bonus points if you eat something that’s considered an aphrodisiac. Like cous-cous, which gives you BONUS bonus points, because it’s cheap, you can fix it up however you like, it’s ridiculously easy, and you can eat it with your hands.

3. Bundle up and go star-gazing. Bring a thermos with some hot chocolate to a spot with as little light pollution as possible. Cuddle up in a sleeping bag together.

4. Go for a drive. Before you leave, make a playlist for your iPod (or burn a cd if you’re old-school) of some fun romantic songs. Bonus points if you get yourself lost. Stop at the first local coffee shop you find and take a long time there, just talking and drinking coffee, before you get back out on the road.

5. Order pizza or chinese, or cook something easy like a big pot of spagetti, and watch a movie at home. Bonus points if you curl up under a blanket together.

6. Go out somewhere nice just for drinks and an appetizer. It’s WAY cheaper and if you’re still hungry afterwards, go back home and bake some break-and-bake cookie dough.

7. Play a board game. Bonus points if you make up some flirty rules (i.e. only sexy words allowed in Scrabble, or one long kiss every time you land on Park Place in Monopoly. Strip poker also works).

8. Make a fancy dessert. It’s a lot cheaper than buying all the ingredients for a whole meal, and if you scrounge for dinner you can splurge a little for a decadent dessert. I plan to make this one as a surprise for the hubbs, but bonus points for you if you make it together.

9. Splurge on a bottle of wine and ask each other random questions while you drink it. I like using Soul Pancake for inspiration.

10. Window-shop. Bonus points if you go to IKEA and play grown-up doll’s house while eating a big cinnamon roll.

11. Go see a matinee. Sneak sandwiches and cokes into the theater and have lunch while you watch the movie.

12. Walk around downtown where you live. Go through the neighborhoods and talk about the houses you like or don’t like.

13. Obviously, scour the internets for free happenings in your area. You never know when someone’s giving a free concert or a museum is sponsoring a free night. Take advantage!

14. Go to Krispy Kreme the night before, then spend the day in bed, reading, talking, eating donuts, cuddling… you know.

Well, Reader, I hope this helps you and I certainly hope you can enjoy St. Valentine’s massacre on February 14.

Dear Noah,

I can hardly believe another month has gone by, and at the same time I can’t believe it’s only been one month since last time I wrote you a letter. You’re two whole months old today (but you’ll be nine weeks tomorrow… which is confusing for me but since you can’t tell time yet I don’t think you’re very fussed).

You’re such a big boy now, Bubba. Literally… you weighed 14 lbs at your last doctor’s visit… but also in attitude. You already know what you like and what you don’t like, and you know exactly how to show us the difference: by SCREAMING. I have had so many flash-forwards to your “terrible twos” over the last month. You’re just getting me ready, I guess, which is very considerate of you. For instance, this morning you were happy and smiley, and ALL OF THE SUDDEN, you decided you were mad (don’t ask me why). I went through the gambit: I picked you up, I put you back down, I checked your diaper, I held you up to my breast, I let you sit up on my leg… and that’s when I saw it. Your mini-tantrum. You arched your back and threw your head back in utter disgust. Let me clarify: no real tears were coming out of your eyes. You weren’t even really crying. You were just yelling at me. It was quite the display, young man. Now you understand why I’m terrified to go out in public with you. The point is, this month has been largely devoted to us figuring out the things you don’t like.

Among these things is being offered the breast when you’re not hungry, and wearing clothes. Now your Daddy seems to understand this clothing aversion, but it’s like I keep telling you. It’s not socially acceptable to go around naked. Good grief, man! The way you scream when I get you dressed in the morning, I’m sure the neighbors think I’m abusing you. Yes, I said the neighbors. I KNOW THEY CAN HEAR YOU. Other things you loathe include going in your car seat and being strapped into your Baby Bjorn. I don’t know if your memory works yet or not, but I wish you could understand that once you’re IN your seat or carrier, and we start to move, you’re happy as a clam. Maybe you just hate being constricted by anything.

Which is probably why you love the bath so much. Your bath is your favorite time of day. No matter how annoyed, how gassy, how over/under-stimulated you might be BEFORE I take your clothes off and place you in your whale tub, you are instantly happy the moment your feet splash into the water. When we take you out, we’ve started delaying the getting dressed process for as long as possible, just because we know you’ll be unhappy again when you get clothes back on. Also because we love looking at your little dimply tushie.

The other thing you completely love is your reflection. You did not get this from your Daddy or me, that’s for sure. Something about seeing yourself is enough to send you into waves of smiles and almost-giggles. You spend minutes (which is hours to someone has to go back to sleep every hour and a half) staring at yourself, smiling at yourself, and talking to yourself in the mirror above your play mat. It’s like you found a best baby friend who FINALLY understands what you’re trying to say.

Which brings me finally to the smiles, oh my lord the smiles. This month they have EXPLODED. I’ve never known such happiness the way I do when you smile. It started out as just you sort of mimicking us, but now your face breaks into a big gummy grin all the time, especially when your Daddy or I come to get you out of your crib and you see us for the first time in half an hour. It will be no time at all before you’re laughing and I’m getting ready by collecting weights to tie myself down to earth when that day comes.

You also love to talk to me, especially in the mornings, which is surprising since I know I’m breathing “HHHEY!!!” in your face with my ferocious morning breath. You don’t even seem to notice though, so busy are you reciting Shakespeare and Donne sonnets. Your Daddy and I have tried recording you talking, since you have so much to say, but you go camera shy every time. You really are quite wordy for someone with such a limited vocabulary. We’re certain you’re explaining to us your thoughts on health care reform, but I guess you’re not ready to be so outspoken, since you probably sense that I’m plotting to put your speeches on my blog. It’s ok. As long as you keep talking to us, I don’t mind.

Your mental and physical growth are almost too much for me to keep up with now, Noah. You’ve outgrown all your newborn outfits and you’ve almost outgrown all your three-month outfits too. You are just so big, larger than life, in every way. You have so many facial expressions (everyone that sees you says so), and you’re bursting with personality already. I can’t wait to see you grow this month, and at the same time I wish you would STOP for just one second so I could catch my breath. I’m going to read back over these letters and be completely amazed, I can already tell. I love you so much, Bubbs.

Love,
Mommy

Don’t mess with them, y’all. They will EAT YOUR SOUL!