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Just got back from Oliver’s appointment.

Oliver was nine pounds and one ounce when he was born.

At his three day appointment, Oliver had dropped to eight pounds and something.

Today, the man child weighs nine pounds and thirteen ounces.  I must say that I am not only proud of Oliver for figuring out the whole breastfeeding thing but I’m also proud of my boobs.  High five to you both…or you three [?]…then again, I guess my boobs don’t really have hands.

Alright. 

Virtual high five to Oliver and my boobs.

It’s Christmas in September!

I’m not joking.

Mom called me Sunday to talk about an idea that she had for Christmas.  I was under the assumption that she was talking about where we were going to be for Christmas but it turned out that she meant a gift idea for Tucker and me.

Cable, bitches!  Woot!  Woot!  [I don't really say "woot, woot"...it just seemed like the right thing to say.

Mom's paying for cable for six months and then we'll either cancel it [yeah, right] or take over the payments.

Aw the joys of motherhood.

There’s nothing like being woken up three times by something wet and slightly cool on your back.

Oliver’s dessicated umbilical stump still hasn’t fallen off and I have to fold his size 1 diapers down so that they don’t cover up the nasty, black thing.

I’ve tried cutting a cute little 1/2 circle in the “waist band” of the diaper but that ended with a leaky diaper and tiny little absorbent balls in Oliver’s diaper.  [Those are a bitch to clean off, just so you know.]

I woke up this morning having had very little sleep last night and all I wanted to do was check my email while I nursed my coffee.

Bad idea; I should have just stayed in bed.

Paul Newman died of cancer which he had been battling for quite some time.

Paul Newman was my “other” and I first fell in love with him when I was 12 and saw Long Hot Summer for the first time.

Gawd, that man was sexy!

He founded Newman’s Own - which has the best dressing known to man - and was faithful to his wife, Joanne Woodward who he married in 1958.

Today was the date of my scheduled c-section.

I remember how much I freaked out about scheduling the stupid thing since I was CONVINCED that I wouldn’t go into labor and that I would have to have surgery to get my kid out.

Well, I did end up having a c-section but Oliver was in the 95% for length, 90% for weight and 75% for head circumference and I’m 5′2″ so maybe it was for the best. 

The point is that two weeks ago today I had a tiny [to me] little boy who ended up being perfect [and having circus toes].

Tucker has a problem…an obsession really.

He comes home from class and hangs out with the happy little family.  At some point during the night he’ll make his way over to the computer.

He tries to hide his compulsion with YouTube video watching and by looking around Ebay but he eventually somehow finds his way to http://icanhascheezburger.com/.

I know he’s on the website when I hear girly giggles coming from the computer.

I’m really to blame for all of this since I joked once “I can has laptop?”.

ONCE, I tell you!

Cara doesn’t dress herself just yet so Tucker and I have to take full credit for this outfit.

The shirt is part of a PJ set but Cara was getting hot so I put the first pair of shorts on her that my hand hit.  The Tinkerbell socks are her father’s contribution.

Now, Cara would never be taken out of our front door in this get-up.

The shirt with different pants?

Sure.

The socks?

Ok.

The shorts?

Probably not since they’re very obviously PJ shorts.

She was smelling him to see if he was worth eating.

I got book one of the Twilight saga on Friday.  Sunday I got book two.  Yesterday I got books three and four.

I think I have a problem.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about then you probably haven’t been in a book store recently.

The series is actually a teen series and I felt just a tad bit foolish when I put book one on the conveyor belt at Target.  I actually put the book cover down in an attempt to hide the book.

Pathetic much?

After a fairly positive post, I feel the need to balance it out by writing something that I bitch to Tucker about frequently…the concept of a “good baby”.

With Cara, I got a lot of sympathy from friends and family because Cara was such a “hard” child.  No one ever called her “bad” but I definitely never heard, “Oh, what a GOOD baby…”

The questions started the day she was born: How does she sleep?  Is she a good baby?

For some reason, the majority of people link the goodness of a newborn with the amount that they sleep and that makes no freakin’ sense.