Monday, May 21, 2007

My saga of the "single" parent continues...

Remember the comment about the nice, calm, non-insane dogs?

Well I take it back! Andy got out of the yard today, leaving me wondering how the hell I am supposed to chase down a dog while carrying a 6 week old infant and trailing a 5 year old girl. The truth is, I can't chase down Andy with an infant, I can hardly chase her down in supremely good condition with a team of four adults! Luckily, after only an hour of imagining her dead by the side of the road, (or worse, imagining the civil liability caused by a run away dog and families out for an evening stroll), the escape artist returned to the front door and barked politely to be let in. I swear to god I felt like answering the door and acting like I didn't know her. Unfortunately it would have had an effect on no one but me, although it might have made me feel better nonetheless.

Otter has created his own "Buns of Steel" workout routine. He likes to be seated on my lap with my legs supporting his back and gently rocked back and forth. I think it mimics the motion of the car. Unfortunately, it really begins to tire out my legs, stomach, and glutes, especially after the hour of rocking he required today. (Size non-hippo here I come!)

Monkey was given a trip to the Evil Place for dinner as a treat because I am too tired to care about feeding her food completely devoid of any nutritional value. It's one night, she will live. However, after this abnormal treat she still threw a massive screaming fit at bedtime, this time waking up the baby.

The same baby who had been crying and fussing for the previous hour, and had finally nursed himself to sleep. The baby who then cried and fussed for another hour until I got him to sleep only to be awakened by the cat stepping on him. He was so traumatized by said cat attack that he needed to nurse for another 40 minutes before he could sleep again, a nursing punctuated by loud yowling complaints and emphatic cries between suckles. When he was asleep this time my phone began to ring, and ring, and ring. It normally goes to voice mail after two rings, but tonight, the night from hell, it didn't go to voice mail at all. So I woke him up answering the phone, which required another half hour of nursing. Happily it was Hatchet on the phone, so I got to recharge my weary mommy soul with the love and commiseration of one of my favorite friends. Thereafter my night began to get better.

Now he is asleep, she is asleep, the dogs are all inside, the cats are sleeping, I have had beer and adult conversation, and I might actually make it until Lee's return without going into a corner of my house, wrapping my arms around my legs, and rocking back and forth chanting "I am an orange... I am an orange."

The thing that is most unfair is that I can never leave Lee alone with the baby, Monkey, three dogs and three cats for five days while I am away at a cool conference in a chic city enjoying evenings out at funky bars with naked women on trapezes. I am the baby's sole source of nourishment, so the most I can do is leave him with Lee for an hour while I get a haircut. After the past five days I want him to have to suffer too Damnit!

Since he can't, there should be some sort of extra goody for me in lieu of equal suffering. I should get extra foot rubs, or more control over the tv remote, or more work-free orgasms. (Okay, to be honest, I would have to have any desire whatsoever for sexual activity in order to have more orgasms, work-free or otherwise, and frankly, I don't. I had an 11 pound 6 ounce baby without any medication. I currently never intend to have sex again, thank you very much. There is nothing like natural childbirth to make one wary of the penis. It is a sneaky beast and cannot be trusted.)

Lee will be home tomorrow morning around 9 am, so I am in the home stretch. All I have to do it make through tonight, and then I can go back to being the sole caretaker of all these creatures for only 8-10 hours a day, instead of 24. With Lee back, maybe I can actually get a haircut so I stop dragging the ends of my hair through puddles of spit up!

2 comments:

Woman with a Hatchet said...

I vote for getting a breast pump, an electric one, pumping like mad to create a goodly supply and then leaving Lee, the Champion Nurser and the sundry Crazed Others and go out for more than an hour.

A few hours.

SOMETHING.

That's what breast pumps are for, you know: saving your sanity. The side effect of someone else feeding your child while you're not there? Bonus!

Hang in there, kiddo!

Mom said...

Ditto to the breast pump idea. You're beginning to have that tone to your communiques that I remember (even now!) from when you and then Shane were being breast fed. You know, that God-I'm-going-to-jump-out-of-my-skin tone. That one. Time for some R&R, dearie.

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