* Instead of writing posts (which are brewing) about The Boy's birth story or my Post Partum Experience this time around (I know, those sound SCINTILLATING, right?) all I can think about is the MAD amount of TV (and new TV) that I'm watching. Most notably, I watched the first two seasons of Dexter in three days (and then had like three dreams about dismembered bodies. Niiice.) I became OBSESSED with this show and so when I ran out of seasons to 'Watch Instantly' (I LURVE me some Netflix), I went and got the first Dexter book from the library. Am a tool.) I also watched the first season of Weeds (the BEST EVER theme song, yo.)
* Yesterday morning I heard TLNG calling for me at 5:40 in the AM (DST, YOU can suck it, my friend.) Anyway, I was going to run in there and tell her that it wasn't waking-up time (6AM at the effing EARLIEST) and then go and feed the waking baby. When I got to her door it was cracked. 'Hmm. That's odd,' I thought to myself and when I opened the door? I saw a BEFUDDLED, STILL-HALF-ASLEEP, The Man, changing TLNG out of her diaper. Getting her up for the DAY. FOR THE FIRST TIME EVAR. Huh? Um. I'm all for the initiative, dude, but how about we try that say at 6:00--or better yet, on an EFFING SATURDAY?
* Most often, when half asleep, The Man is more amusing than annoying. If you haven't read that post that I linked, you really should. I wrote it back when I was still funny. The number of stories that I could tell about The Man leaping out of bed half [dressed and half] asleep to rescue someone is impressive but sadly, probably such a telling is verboten.
* I hate my dog again.
* Guys, my son is 6 weeks old and I just had to buy him a whole slew of 3-6 month clothes. And size 2 diapers. What the hell, kid? My daughter, you know, the TODDLER? Two and a half, almost? Weighs like 25 lbs. and my son weighs TWELVE POUNDS. OMFG. Half her weight. He has also grown a whole inch since he was born. He's 23 in long. How is it possible to have one kid be a peanut and the other be a monstah?
* At the 6 week post-partum mark, I'm starting to have a few *body image(ish)* issues. Not really bad, just, well, you know. I don't feel motivated to DO much about it and the clusterfuck that my week of sleep is makes it hard (for me) to want to do anything but eat and sloth (when not bouncing or otherwise infant-toddler wrangling.) I didn't really have much of a pooch last time but this time, WHOO BOY. Tis a little, er, FLAPPAY. Hmm. I have decided that a daily dose of 457839058 packages of M&M's is probably not a great idea and so for now, I'm trying to just keep track of what I'm eating and do as much as I can (so far that's a couple minutes of stretching.)
* We have also had (recurring) issues with The Thrush that make me want to throw myself off a bridge. If you're on twitter, you know that this resulted in a [totally MORTIFYING] mildly embarrassing exchange with my new doctor, in which I told him the baby and I had The Thrush and he looked in my MOUTH, when, you know..it's on my nipples (hate that word.) Since I couldn't bear to say the word aloud, me notifying him involved pantomimed circular motions with my fingers a la Kelly Le Brock in Weird Science and he grinned and told me that it's only called The Thrush if it's in your Mouth. M'kay.
* I think because I have the name 'Girl' in the blog title (and I curse a lot,) I get super-gross Search Engine Hits. Today there was this one: 'Girl giving finger,' which took The Google Perv to this post. HA HA HA! Sometimes ESL is a bitch, yo.
