baby is here..fog is lifting..sort of..

having babies is not for the faint of heart, or the sane. On September 1st at 5:06 am my son entered this world fourteen days early and I joined the ranks of the walking comatose. Thankfully the mind allows you to forget exactly how the combination of childbirth, lack of sleep, breastfeeding, and the eupohoria of it all is enough at any given moment to make you collaspe where you stand. Sleep leaves your house as quickly as you depart your own bed for the couch. I dream of getting my sexy back but staring at my still plump figure in the mirror...understand that it will take more than hard wishing.
Baby sleeps and like most moms I stare caught in the rapture of my miracle, forgetting that precious sleep minutes are ticking away never to be seen again..my once pristine house now is worthy of a clean house makeover but all i can do is..
drink another soda and lean back further on my couch aka bed.
Did i mention I had a c section?
Yeah, about that. The shaking on the table, hearing my doc say " now stay really really still for the next ten seconds.." while he has my stomach open.. a little un nerving. Who knew this pain would have me longing wistfully for a vaginal birth?
Oh and my baby is wicked cute.
Although my skin is drier than a cactus, i keep drinking soda, because I can, and right now, fitness and health isn't my top priority. I eat when i can, what i can, and currently it's better than prior to birth, but not by much. As the haze disappates my desire to be fit and trim returns...

that was the sound of my underwear tearing..

yep..the super sexy La Perla pair that I paid way too much money for..in my prior life( aka not preggers) they were loose, hung on my hips.granted I should of taken note when shift back and forth to get them on, but I needed to believe on Tuesday that they still fit...

then there is the fur like patch on my right shoulder that appeared out of nowwhere..
my nails that i can't trim enough my hair that grows faster than i can keep up with..
and my endless obsession with all things ranch ..dressing that is..

my son's schedule is interesting...currently...5:45 am, 9:30 ish, repeating every three hours..then for a wide awake, both feet and hands drum session..at 10 pm to 10:50 EVERY single night..
I guess that's his encore..:)

a half pound and 8 inches long!

My doctor said we are going to have a long big baby boy! He was moving every which way, showing off for his dad, since it was his first ultrasound appointment..I thought on several occasions he was going to pass out... big difference from seeing a picture of an ultrasound and seeing THE ultrasound in real time... Our baby likes to wave, ALOT..while on his back, his side, and any other way that he can think of, all the while kicking his mama...

I can feel small flutters and outright kicks..his favorite space is right below my belly button on the right, mvoing over to the left side for the night time...

I have said goodbye to all but one pair of my pre maternity clothes...a pair of 27 inch True Religons, and those are barely a fit now...it's onward to the dresses, and the like, since I refuse to buy maternity garb, just don't like it!

But what I do love, is being pregnant. Even when it sucks, and I can't get comfortable, my nose is congested and the fatigue rules,

I only think of that little face inside of me working overtime to grow, and all of sudden,
all is right in the world again...

"You're single and pregnant...so.....

“You’re single and pregnant…so…
”I’m single and pregnant. Translated means, not married, one name on my lease. And no, the father didn’t bronze my pee stick. He’s my hot friend that I’ve slept with, here and there, heavy emphasis on the here and there for the last fourteen years. We tried the traditional dating and never lasted for more than a month, yet have a definite bond.. That everyone else talks about even when we’ve been oblivious. The morning after the night of the “deed” (feel free to insert a more graphic term suitable to your imagination and taste) I called him and informed him that we had to cease and desist. (aka no more nookie nookie) He agreed and I called my best friend excited that we finally had agreed to leave each other alone.
A few weeks later the flashing preggers appeared on the digital stick. Contrary to what you might think up to this point, I don’t advise single parenthood as a first choice. Any mother will tell you motherhood is a dual position in an optimum environment. Going it alone requires a measure of insanity and fortitude not easily found in the female population, but readily available within me.
15 weeks into this pregnancy has been ideal and my emotions constant and cheerful thanks now to my love of everything food. Especially ranch dressing. I talk to the dad a little more often now, even discussing names and parenting styles. We don’t hate each other and he will be a present father, dare I say a wonderful dad. I’m not bothered by the stares or the silences that come with my announcement or the lack of real joy because of my single status. I’m 40 and thankfully haven’t worried too much about public opinion since tenth grade when I dropped the baton during the state championships in the 4 x400 relay. My exuberance doesn’t mean I lack fear or sadness, it only conveys what my mom has always told me..

”What you feel is most of what you are.”

And I feel blessed. Even single and pregnant.

i love being pregnant..

even though sleep is never enough, my hips are baby having hips now, my nose i think is most defintely wider, yet in still i laugh much more, am more relaxed, able to see alot more good than bad, more forgiving of everyone and anything, and unable no matter how and what way i look at this, to see it as a bad thing..

no matter what coat it comes in, it's a blessing.

Trader Joes, John Edwards, being smart in Hollywood..

It's occurred to me that being beautiful while intelligent in Los Angeles could be considered an occupational hazzard. I can only dumb down for so long before I want to grab my pants like Fred Sanford and say " What? What?" And when did moms and wives get so ANGRY??? I mean yeah, once again I will use my favorite phrase to describe John Edwards.." he sucks ass" but for God sakes he didn't kill anyone, he had an affair!!!!!! He's a man. Go figure. Still sucks but can we please move on to bigger topics like how Casey Anthony seems to be the poster child for bringing back street justice. UGH!! And are you serious, China made the sky blue for the opening ceremonies?? While they sweep the poor under the sidewalk..literally.
How about Michael Phelps?? Single mom, great smile, caring swim coach who took just another kid and helped train him into quite possibly the best Olympian of all time. And they say that after school programs dont' matter. Ask Denzel about that...
Men who say there are no good women usually suck ass at being good men. Ditto for the reverse too.
I love Trader Joes! Although could the parking lots be a lil bit bigger? Do the wide aisles at Ralphs equal the 75% mark up?
Loofahs make your skin softer and get more dirt off.
I'm now allergic to my own cat. Damnit.. But I still leave the television on for her during the day..
A mojito sounds heavenly..see ya..

being single is safe..

is the conclusion i came to about twenty minutes ago. My friends tell me that I find something wrong with men in order to remain a small self sufficient country. I have always scoffed at that idea, because I truly didn't believe it. Instead my rationale was that I wouldn't settle in order to be coupled up. Ugh. Duet for the sake of it. Yuk. I love the comfort of crawling in bed beside a man, love the " love you" at the end of a convo.. Having a man that will walk past your bad mood and kiss your lips, is a good thing. Even better the man that sees you, I mean really sees you. .. Yes to all of the above and more..

but while that love can be as good as advance notice on a sale, it can also swoop in like that crazy dude in Batman..and fly out with your heart, your soul and the hope you had that love could work for you.

I am a solutions girl. I haven't mastered the art of tact yet. If it's raining, get an umbrella. If he hurt you, leave his ass. Love happens to be a blackjack table stacked heavily against hitting the jackpot. Too many options, weak men, sorry women, and a myriad of other reasons make love the last guy picked for the team.

Pick a threesome. Pick daisies. But Love? nope.

Sadly I have an almost impeccable bullshit meter... even before it's a fully formulated thought..
i feel it, and bounce to new territories. or more likely...my apartment aka my cave.

i just stopped to refill my glass of yellow tail cab. my emotions flow better with vino..

so like i was saying...here's the bottom line... While i see the worth in therapy, I prefer shoes, so my issues I work out myself... writing that sounds a tad stupid, but hey, it's my reality...

I run when I should stay. When I need love the most, I turn off my phone.

I met this great guy, and so far, he has me thinking about taking off my Nike's...

and

hanging close to love.

imagine that...stay tuned..
nai