This year I really, really wish I had a lovely "What I'm thankful for" post for you on Thanksgiving (like my friend Nikki's. She's awesome). Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for so many things … a healthy baby girl, John surviving a ruptured appendix … the list is long this year. I know in the grand scheme of things I really and truly have nothing to complain about!! I am a blessed person and Thanksgiving is usually one of my favorite holidays.
HOWEVER (and oh yes, I mean HOW-effing-EVER), this year's festivities were punctuated by a series of events that I COULD NOT MAKE UP. Shall I begin on the airplane?
First of all, my baby girl is a veritable rock star. She flew on the airplane like a champ. She didn't cry, she smiled at everyone, and received many compliments on how pretty and well-behaved she is. Atta girl!! John and I had the whole thing down to a science: We'd checked in early the night before and gotten a decent boarding position, we found a cart and breezed through security like it was no biggie, walked our stroller right up to the gate, sat next to a sweet old lady who slept the whole flight … it was magic. We were so proud of ourselves we were taking pictures of the baby to commemorate the whole experience. It was something we actually wanted to remember!
Somewhere in the middle of the flight the gravitational pull got to the girl. John was holding her in his lap facing outwards and we heard her take what we could only assume was the most colossal baby poop in the history of mankind. Like a pro my man instantly spun out of his seat with two diapers, wipes, and the changing pad and basically hopped over the sleeping old lady without disturbing her. Someone was in the bathroom and he had to wait in that person's seat (in the front row … convenient, right??!) for a few minutes. Unfortunately, this is when things apparently got hairy. From what he told me later, Sydney again pooped while he was waiting. What he didn't realize what that when that happened, poop came shooting out of the top of the back of her diaper, soaked through all her clothes (which included a SWEATER) and got all over the front of his shirt. When he opened the door to the bathroom a few minutes later and mouthed "I NEED AN OUTFIT" I didn't realize that behind him was a naked baby and a pile of clothes that looked like it had stormed the beach at Normandy. About 15 minutes later he came out in his poop-smeared undershirt with Syd in one arm and a plastic bag in the other looking rather stunned. So yeah, bad time to realize you need to move your kid up a size in diapers, huh?
We did get a lovely greeting at the airport, though. See?
Basically we thought that the Poop Incident was going to be the big "blog story" of Thanksgiving. But the fun just didn't stop coming!! On Thanksgiving day we had a lovely wonderful crowd of people over at my sister's place (read all about it over here with Lily! She's wonderfully positive!!). Everyone took turns slaving in the kitchen this year — except for my mom, who slaved away staring at her granddaughter all day, hee hee — and my contribution was to be the much-anticipated pumpkin cheesecake. I would now like to rename that recipe "Pumpkin Cheesecake … From Hell." My sister and I had it totally done when I unknowingly grabbed a mixer attachment from a cabinet that had recently been swimming in mouse droppings (yum) and stuck it (unwashed double yum) into the filling batter. My sister Freaked Out (rightfully so) and we had to send her boyfriend to the store for the third time to get the ingredients to make it again. I remade it while everyone visited in the other room (boo). Then my baby woke up screaming inconsolably just in time for dinner. I don't know what it was; maybe the noise or the altitude or maybe she's got some teeth swimming around in there somewhere but nothing helped. She wouldn't nurse for long, Tylenol didn't help, and it took until the end of the night to finally get her calmed own long enough to just nurse a little. I wolfed my dinner down with her squirming and screaming under a nursing apron and spent most of the evening in my sister's room. That was definitely a first for my usually ultra sooth-able chilled out baby.
After everyone left the cheesecake had finally set up enough for me, John, my sister and her boyfriend, and my mom and her boyfriend to all try a piece. It wasn't any good. SO GLAD I KILLED MYSELF OVER THAT ONE.
By midnight the baby finally went down for the night and we fell into bed exhausted. My stomach didn't feel well but I just played it off as being tired and eating too much and went to sleep.
Not less than an hour later I jolted out of bed to throw up out of both ends. This continued every half hour FOR THE NEXT 12 HOURS. I have never been so sick in my life. I had food poisoning when I was fourteen but I don't remember it being THAT bad. The next few days passed in a blur of well, vomit. I have quite literally lost 10 pounds. I couldn't sit up long enough to pump so my daughter had formula for the first time in her life (WAAAAHH). Thank goodness my mom was there to take care of me through the night and then my husband rocked it out the whole next day by himself (my family left on Friday morning). Then, hooray!, Lily and her husband Troy stepped in on Friday night, helped us pack up our ten thousand pounds of luggage, moved us to their house (where we were planning to hang out on Friday and Saturday), and took care of us all until our shaky plane ride home Saturday night (that is a blog for another day friends, and it's a DOOZY).
Obviously I will never eat Thanksgiving dinner again. So if you ate too much this year just consider it you eating my portion for me. For evaaah.
And now … more deep answers to your questions!!
Lori (my friend from Texas who CLAIMS to be a lurker but has made her presence known before) asks:
ok, so speaking of lurking, what blog(s) are YOU a lurker on?
Why do you blog?
What famous celebrity do you hope to someday see at Trader Joe's?
Coke or Pepsi?
Favorite books to read?
All right, lurking. Once upon a time I lurked on one blog in particular: Not that you asked…. I still to this day have no idea how I stumbled across Emily's blog but I'm so glad I did. It really helps that she's one literal step ahead of me in life in every way so she always has tons of his of helpful things to say about husbands and babies and toddlers and whatnot (check out her hospital packing list … AMAZING). Also? She's hilarious and just instantly seemed to be a genuine person who just told it like it was. After a month of blog-stalking her (and basically reading ALL her archives and noticing that our dogs are pretty much twins) I finally worked up the courage to leave her a comment, which is not a big deal because she gets millions of comments. But then GUESS WHAT? She commented back. It was pretty much the coolest thing EVER. Somehow we started exchanging the occasional email and then like, sent each other stuff in the mail and now, dare I say? We are kinda buddies? Well, at least I like to think that we are (as all nerdy kids think the coolest kids in school are buddies with them, sigh).
Currently I lurk on Matt, Liz, and Madeline and Dooce. I've never commented on Matt's blog because? Not really sure what I can say that wouldn't sound cliched. You know? I do secretly hope to run into him one day to tell him that I read … my heart just goes out to him. Dooce is just, well, Dooce. I emailed her once but I felt SO DUMB. Anyway. Nowadays I try to comment on interesting posts. Comments are just, well, the greatest. And if you never comment on anyone's blog how can you ever get comments back? SEE THE LOGIC? 🙂
Why do I blog? Mostly because I like to pretend that I'm still a writer. This whole blogging thing started off when my younger sister made me get a Xanga account because she and her cool friends in college were all starting blogs. I was in graduate school writing a book of short stories then (I know, it's a short drop isn't it?) and didn't really blog much but I liked spying on my sister and her friends (particularly Anna and Laura). It took a couple years, but once I began a short-lived but illustrious career as a substitute teacher, I was hooked. I remember one classroom where I had internet access — marine biology where the assignment ALL DAY was crossword puzzles … OH BLESS THE SICK TEACHER – and I updated my blog every class period. It was awesome. Then my mom started reading blogs (namely my sister's and mine) and demanded updates so she didn't have to "call us all the time to find out what's going on." Being a submissive wimp really is the reason here people, let me just come out and say it.
What celebrity do I hope to see at Trader Joe's? Really, I'm not too particular about this one. I just want to SEE a celebrity and recognize them in the moment. On Saturday at the airport John started yelling (in the terminal, yes, while pushing a baby in a stroller, two bags strapped on him and while ON HIS PHONE), "I JUST SAW DAVID DUCHOVNY!! DID YOU SEE HIM! LOOK MANDA!! THERE'S THE BACK OF HIM!" And I still do not believe him because my husband tends to not have the best facial recognition and the back of the guy DID NOT look at all like David Duchovny and I SHOULD KNOW because SOMEONE made me sit through ALL NINE seasons of the X-Files once. Ahem.
Coke or Pepsi? I'm a Diet Coke girl. I miss regular Diet Coke so I survive on Caffeine Free Diet Coke which we all know is for grandmas. Luckily, grandmas are the bomb.
Favorite books to read? Anything by Cormac McCarthy. Books of short stories. I have a few books of poetry that I read over and over again and they never get old, particularly this one that John gave to me long ago. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. And also, weirdly, cook books. I could read cook books all day long.
Yep, so, there you have it. Another installment when there's more poop to talk about. Ok, not that soon but you get the idea. I should probably just go ahead and rename this blog "inside dog: poop and barf." GAH.