THE STORY! And it's SOOO good. Totally worth the wait.

Before our story can commence, I must send a resounding "thank you" to all the mothers and fathers and sitters and godmothers (etc., etc.) who hit me up here or on facebook to offer advice and kind words.  Yes, my baby girl is still fussy and still wants to be held all the time, but we continue to have tiny victories day by day.  For example, I am typing this with BOTH HANDS and looking at the baby monitor while she sleeps IN HER CRIB, where she has been for an HOUR.  Holy crapballs.  Last night she slept for three consecutive hours in her crib.  What did I do?  Stared at the video monitor the entire time.  Because I am a fool.


Moving on.


Here it is, folks!  The story I have been dying to tell for ages and ages and needed both energy and two typing hands to tell.  Oh dear ... now I realize I've built it up way too much.  No matter.  It still involves ENEMIES and DANGER and HIGH DRAMA.  Prepare yourselves.


Okay, so it was 12:30 AM, and I was doing what I do -- sitting up in bed, rocking the baboo and staring at the clock with bleary eyes -- when I heard a huge CRASH right outside our window.  That was weird, because even though we live in one of those old city houses that is close to the street and close to our neighbors' houses so we usually hear EV-ER-Y-THING (yes, everything), it had just gotten cold enough to close the windows, so the noise was 95% gone.  The CRASH was so loud that I jumped and "eeep!"ed.  The crash was followed by the squealing tires of a car peeling away from in front of our house, and I turned around just in time to see the headlights of a car fleeing.


I headed downstairs to see what happened, figuring we had left our garbage can out and it was now road rash.  I went to the front window, and saw ... Jeremy's car ... on the street, and not in the driveway where it should be.  He had left it on the street so when I got home from work he could pull it in after me.  Obviously he had been too tired or forgotten.  


But, I seem to remember the car being parked in front of OUR house, not our neighbor to the south's house.  Hmmm, very curious.  It when then that I saw the front of his car, which was smashed to smithereens.  


PANIC.  Someone had smashed my husband's beloved Camaro convertible.  The car that represented all that was young and carefree about him.  The car he bought the DAY WE MET.  The car he loves so much he defends it up and down when I point out its bazillion flaws and beg him to buy a sensible car.  


All I could think was I am going to have to be the one to tell him his car has been violated.  I wanted the car out of our lives, but not like this, NOT LIKE THIS (standing in the middle of the street, directly under a street light, arms in the sky, head thrown back, screaming up at the moon).  


A few minutes later, the cops were in front of our house.  Our neighbor to the north had heard the noise and ran outside to find some neighbors across the street on their porch smoking.  They had seen the whole thing, and she called the cops to report it.  


GET THIS:  The witness-neighbors said they saw a green four-door sedan come flying down the street, then slam on its brakes right in front of our house, crank it into reverse, smash the car backwards 20 feet, throw it back into drive, and drive off.


Ummm ... I'm no scientist, but that doesn't sound like an accident.  The cops actually asked Jeremy if he had any enemies, and when he came back in to tell me that, I laughed and laughed and laughed, because I could never imagine Jeremy with an enemy.  He is easily the world's most likable person.  And then it hit me.  This hit was meant for ME.  


Who is the only person in our house who is likely to have enemies?  Oh, I don't know, maybe the sarcastic, bitchy, blog-writing, bad-grade-giving, grouch?  Yeah.


Jeremy was quick to point out that it was HIS car.  Well duh, but I had JUST convinced him that we should trade his car in towards a reliable and boring crossover.  You know, something we can FIT THE CARSEAT IN.  We were like two weeks away from that GLORIOUS moment.  So, number one -- my enemy knew I was about to get something wonderful in my life and they snatched it away.  


Number two -- I had JUST gotten the use of my car back, after it had died for the ten-millionth time and taken a week to get fixed.  I had only driven it to work and was looking forward to the next day when I could, oh, I don't know, actually LEAVE THE HOUSE DURING THE DAY for the first time in over a week.  But no, my enemy knew of this and wanted me to be trapped in my house with a crying baby who is easily soothed by riding in a car.  


Number three -- remember my suspicions that someone cut my brakes this summer?  (Okay, I just spent ten minutes looking for that post so I could link back to it, but I couldn't find it, so either I am overtired or I never wrote about it, but trust me, it totally happened.)  Well, obviously they started there, and their evil plan was foiled when my friend was nice enough to drive me to work and Bob at The Auto Surgeon fixed my car in one day.  It all fits.  


Okay, so I have a confirmed enemy.  One who is willing to injure things loved by ... well, not me, but my husband.  NOW WHAT??


I guess all I can do is fall back on my old friend anxiety and practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE.  And if you drive a green four-door sedan?  Sorry.  I'll be attacking first and asking questions later.  And if my enemy is a student who thinks if I am trapped at home then I won't be able to show up and grade their papers?  Oh, I'll always find a way.  ALWAYS.  


Please send binoculars and anti-anxiety medication.

Story Postponed; Baby Stuff Continued

My apologies to everyone who does not care about pacifiers and baby-wearing.  My double-apologies to all who were desperately awaiting the story about my verified enemy (or enemIES -- who knows).  BUT, I have gotten a lot of great feedback and questions from people about not only the pacifier situation (OMG, I just imagined "The Situation" with a pacifier in his mouth.  Ha!) but also my "unable-to-put-my-child-down-for-more-than-five-minutes" problem.

So, in response to all the suggestions and questions, I have some facts to share:

1.  I have tried ALL available types of pacifiers, I only offered each type to her once each, and I only offered them to her because she recently started frantically sucking her hands and fingers in order to soothe herself, but while sucking she would still cry and hyperventilate, like she was trying desperately to soothe herself and could not manage it.

2.  When I gave her the pacifier she liked, she INSTANTLY started sucking like gangbusters, a smile came over her face, and she actually RELAXED, which she doesn't do for too many hours a day.

3.  So, she obviously loves the thing, but her little tongue pushes the thing out, and as soon as she pushes it out, she screams and cries because it is gone.

4.  Yes, I also have a hard time breastfeeding, because it always feels like she is pushing it out of her mouth, AND it hurts like the devil is biting my nips the ENTIRE time she eats, every time she eats (but she has a deep enough latch, she is not just shallow).  

5.  As for the baby-wearing, I am ALL for it and planned on doing it from the get-go.  I tried the sling first, and she was like no way, Jose, so I got a Baby Bjorn.  She LOVES the Bjorn ... IF I am in constant motion.  Like, when I walk the dog or go to the store, she is in hog heaven and passes out, but if I have to (heaven forbid) stop moving because I have to wait in line for a prescription or go in the house to make dinner, she spazzes.  

6.  For the most part, she FUH-reaks when I put her down for more than 5 minutes, and I don't mean like slightly upset, I mean apocalypse stuff.  

7.  She is only 2 1/2 months old, so I am nowhere near letting her cry it out.  I'm just not ready.  Plus, everything I've read says it is not a good idea before 4 months.  I still want to be her source of comfort, even if that means constant back pain, no sleep, and slight brain pain.  I mean, I know a lot of people who had high-needs babies, and they started to turn a corner around 3 or 4 months, so until I get to that point, I feel like I should just wait it out for a while longer.

So, have at it, moms!  :D  I love your advice, stories, and "been-there"s.

PACIFIER HELP NEEDED

Okay, moms -- I need help!  Josephine started sucking on her hands and finger a LOT, and I wanted to replace that with a pacifier.  Thankfully, she recently realized that sucking on a pacifier is soothing and lets her actually go three hours between feedings (HALLELUJAH!), but ... well, let's just say she doesn't fully understand the concept of "sucking."  This has also made breast and bottle feeding EXCRUCIATING.  She pushes out with her tongue when sucking, so when I put the pacifier in her mouth, she pushes it out on the first suck.  Since she is obviously not old enough to hold the pacifier in her mouth or to pick it up and put it back in when it falls out, the only way for her to use the pacifier is for me to hold it in her mouth for her, and let me tell you, while it is great that she is calm instead of crying, it does not make my life much easier in terms of actually being able to DO anything, since I have no free hands.

Here's the question:  WHAT THE EFF DO I DO?  I have tried both the "orthodontic" shaped pacifiers and the "hospital soothers."  She likes the orthodontic shape much better, but she cannot keep either in her mouth.  I was told you cannot put duct tape on your child's face to keep the pacifier in place.  Heh.  So what do I do?  Help, please!!  

To make up for such a lame-balls post, I have a teaser for what is coming up when I have two free hands to type with:  Evidence that I have at least ONE enemy who is out to get me.  GUH!!

A Small Offering

I want to blog SUPER-DUPER bad right now, but I can't, for undisclosed reasons (hint: it has to do with a too-cute two-month-old child who I cannot bear to put down because she "doesn't like it."  Still waiting for a shower today.  Heh.).


And I have a post all written in my head, and I want to type it up, but I can't, plus I need to take a picture of something and write all over it in Paint, but my camera battery died yesterday WHILE THE BABY WAS BEING HELD BY HER GRANDPARENTS (!) because I am a total failure of an unprepared mother, and I am staring, panicked, at the light on the charger, hoping it finishes charging before we take Josephine to the apple orchard/pumpkin patch tonight, because if I don't get picture of THAT, I am pretty sure they will take my child away, and I CAN'T RISK IT!  


So, anyway, that was all totally unnecessary and took me like an hour to type with my one free hand, but what I really wanted to say was, "Real blog post later.  For now -- bizarre and funny video I saw on The Soup" (tangent: I asked Joel McHale to be Josephine's godfather.  Still waiting to hear back.):


Please, do enjoy!

Wanted: New Spider-Disposer-Type Person

If you also live in an old house (especially if it has not been cared for for over 100 years -- reminder: we rent, so we are not the neglectful owners in question), you know the extent of the spider problem.  I swear, we could start an arachnid museum up in here.


I am pretty terrified of spiders (if you don't understand why, please click HERE), but ever since the baby has arrived, I have been hyper-vigilant about those little blood suckers.  And let me tell you, I COULD kill all those little bitch spiders every time I spot one (or, rather, get Jeremy to kill them), but I am KIND-HEARTED, so I just scream and scream and hyperventilate and point at the spider and scream until Jeremy scoops it up, unharmed, and removes it from our residence.  


So, that is how g-d nice I am.


Until recently, when I found ...

{source}

EGG SACS!!!!  In my basement!  Right by the washer and dryer!  Where I wash my BABY'S CLOTHES!!  Not one.  Not two.  THREE egg sacs, all full of thousands -- nay, MILLIONS -- of little baby spiders, just waiting to erupt in a fireworks display of evil.  (See below):

{source}

Of course, I immediately alerted my husband.

Veronica:  [dragging Jeremy to basement]  Have you SEEN this?

Jeremy:  The window?

Veronica:  No, what is between the window and the storm window.

Jeremy:  Hmm, not seeing anything that would necessitate me being dragged to the basement.

Veronica:  Well, that explains why our house is rampant with killer spiders!  SOMEONE is not taking his job very seriously.  Spiders sacs, Jeremy!

Jeremy:  Oh.

Veronica:  OH?  That's all you have to say??  Do you realize those things are going to burst forth with thousands of SPIDERS that will BITE your BABY?!?!

Jeremy:  Well, I'm pretty sure there are thousands of eggs, but that's just because not all of them will survive.

Veronica:  Don't you try to use your knowledge of science against me.  Besides, if even ONE survives, it will crawl up in the dark of night and bite your baby's FACE!  Are you prepared to wake up in the morning and see a massive spider bite on your sweet girl's face, all because you wouldn't get rid of those damn egg sacs?  Are you?  ARE you?

Jeremy:  But Veronica ... think about Charlotte's Web.  Are YOU prepared to tell your daughter that you ordered the death of Charlotte's BABIES?

Veronica:  *death stare*  You son of a bitch ...

Yeah, the egg sacs remain.