A Day at the Zoo

Today was so much fun. I took the day off work. We got to spend time with my mom, Bob, Jamie, and Ella. We got to see a bunch of animals we don't see every day. Asher was in very good spirits the entire time, even with no naps. I remembered to put sunscreen on and managed to not get burned. I remembered to put sunscreen on Asher and he didn't get burned.

I spent close to an hour packing our bag for the day, and miraculously only forgot a few things. Of course, they couldn't have been minor things, like gum or hand lotion. No, if I'm going to forget something, I'm going to forget something. The first discovery was no juice. I brought two sippy cups, but no juice. Smart one. No big deal, though, since Asher really doesn't drink much juice. A half hour later I realize - huh - I remembered the formula, the bottles, and even plastic baggies in which to warm the water, but didn't remember one of the little venting pieces that goes with our Dr. Brown's bottles. And, of course, you can't use the bottles without the venting system, else you'll have quite the mess on your hands (and on your baby). So poor NeeNee and Aunt Jamie ran next door to the Walgreens and bought two bottles, bottle brushes, and dish soap so we could wash them in the Wendy's restaurant. There's nothing more sanitary than washing baby bottles in a Wendy's bathroom! Alright, so I got over that minor setback (thanks Mom!), we finally got to the zoo, and all was right with the world. I'm taking pictures - so excited to be using my new camera and even more excited that I actually remembered my camera for once! - when halfway through the ocean exhibit I realize THERE IS NO MEMORY CARD INSIDE THE CAMERA. Shit! Shit! Shit! F%&@ing shit! Luckily, Jamie and Mom had their cameras, but still...I'M PISSED! How is it that, no matter what, EVERY time we go someplace, I ALWAYS forget something. I can spend all day packing, can even make a checklist, but there will still be at least one thing I forget. IT NEVER FAILS.

All in all, though, the day went really well and we all had a great time. I think Asher enjoyed his first outing to the zoo. He was a wonderful boy the whole time, and it was so much fun watching him take everything in. I think his favorite part was the ocean exhibit, with all of the fast-moving colorful fish, sharks, penguins, dolphins, and sea lions. The grown-ups liked the plains animals the best - the giraffes, lions, elephants, tigers - you know, your typical big men on campus. We also liked getting to see the koalas, who are there only for a limited time, but we weren't extremely impressed because they were fast asleep. Ella, on the other hand, seemed most fascinated by Asher's stroller. Aunt Kimmie, can I push the stroller? How about now? Can I push Baby Asher? NOW? CAN I PUSH IT, PLEEEAAASE AUNT KIMMIE?! It didn't even matter if Baby Asher wasn't in the stroller, as long as she could push it. So, it's hard telling what her favorite animals were, but I can definitely tell you which part of the zoo was her least favorite: the petting zoo. She made it about halfway through and decided there would be hell to pay if she wasn't promptly escorted from the area because IT WAS STINKY! Girls will be girls, and she is most certainly ALL girl.

I'll post the pictures Jamie took as soon as I get them from her. We'll all be going to the Children's Museum on Thursday, and I damn well better remember the memory card this time. Let's just pray I remember the camera.

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He Stands!

Last night while in his crib, Asher nonchalantly sat up, grabbed the rails, pulled himself to his knees, and then pulled himself up to standing. I excitedly exclaimed for Stephen to look - Asher is standing! Then, Stephen nonchalantly said Asher had already done this for him on a few occasions over the past day or two.

Bastard.

It's okay, though. I witnessed the first times he rolled over and sat up on his own, and both times Stephen wasn't there to see it. So, I guess I can live with Stephen claiming this milestone. I guess...

I was able to catch it on camera tonight. What a little stinker butt!

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The Death of My Blogging Community

When I began blogging almost two years ago, it was because I really liked the idea of keeping an online journal that friends and family could read and keep themselves apprised of what (little) was going on in our lives. Since my pregnancy, I've used the blog mostly as a way to document Asher's life for him, us, and our loved ones. It's been an awesome way to share photos with grandparents and exchange baby-rearing wisdom with fellow moms. I know it's totally lame, but I get so happy each time someone leaves a comment on my posts. Sure, lots of people could be reading my blog, but how do I know if I never hear from those people? Not to mention, some of the comments I've received have seriously pulled me through the craziness of this year. So, if you love me, you will leave me a comment. (I'm going to be so distraught when I receive ZERO comments on this post.)

Much to my delight in the past two years, several friends and family began their own blogs. I love being able to click on a link and be taken into the "world" of my best friend, or my sister-in-law. Call me lazy, but it's awesome to be able to know what's going on with someone you care about without having to talk on the phone or e-mail, especially during this time of my life when being a full-time working mom with a very active seven month old makes it next to impossible to keep in touch in the traditional ways with people. To me, it makes the distance between me and other people much shorter. It's kind of like I get to experience a bit of their lives with them without physically being there.

Unfortunately, I've realized this week that nearly all of my linked blogs are dead and I fear that pretty soon I won't have any more blogs to peek in on. Most of my blogging community has gone MIA, and I'm pretty much left with two blogs to monitor. TWO! Satisfying my nosiness is going to be very difficult to do with only two blogs to read. People, for the love of God and everything holy, BLOG already! It's easy, it's a nice way to document your life - you know, if you don't mind everyone reading it, it's free, it keeps people connected, and, most importantly, it keeps me entertained. Lord knows I don't get much entertainment these days. Help a poor girl out - I'm lonely over here!

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He Sits!

While giving Asher a bath this evening, he did something incredible.

He sat up by himself.

He was playing on his tummy in a couple of inches of water with his ducks and fish and other various plastic animals that only seem to float well face-down like they're dead, when all of a sudden he just rolled to his side and sat up. No struggle, not even in the wet, slippery bathtub. Of course, he played on the floor for about an hour after his bath and not once did he sit up again on his own, but I know it wasn't just a fluke. He is capable!

I just don't know if I can keep up with this...it feels like one minute he was a blob, and the next he's this independent, mobile little person. At Grandfather and Marmie's house today, he showed Daddy his stair-climbing skills (last week he climbed two small steps there, but I was the only witness). He's getting up on his hands and knees more and more frequently "rocking," so we know it'll be a very short amount of time before he moves on from scooting to true crawling. He continues to try to pull himself up on us and other things. I had no idea he would make so many developments so quickly, and practically all at once.

The kid never fails to amaze me.

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Self Feeding (Sort Of)

Feeding Asher has become quite the chore. First we had the issue with the jimmy legs. Not only did we have to wrestle the jimmy legs into the highchair, we also had to continuously fight the one jimmy foot that liked to pop up over the tray when the big detachable tray wasn't in use. It seems that some babies like to mix in a little foot nibbling in-between bites of his food, which results in sweet potato toes that smear food all over the tray, high chair, other leg...pretty much all over the place. Not to mention, those feet are excellent at targeting the hand holding the food-filled spoon and kicking it as hard as possible, sending the spoon and/or food flying. His aim is awesome. Now that he's grown into his chair a bit and sits upright well on his own, though, we have conquered the crazy jimmy leg by putting the big tray on the chair. Whew!

Of course, the saying goes that when one door closes a window opens. So now that there is a block on the jimmy legs, the jimminess has apparently managed to escape the legs and travel north to the arms and hands. The jimmy arms and hands make the jimmy legs look tame. They want to grab the spoon. They want to grab the bowl. They want to grab Mommy's hands and wrestle the spoon away from her. They want to grab the food in the bowl. They want to slam their slimy little selves against the tray. I recently read that a good remedy for this is to give him his own spoon, that way he feels like he's part of the action, but I'm still in control of the REAL spoon. I haven't tried this yet, but definitely will give it a shot this weekend.

I also have started giving him finger foods to gnaw on, which has been absolutely wonderful at keeping him occupied and happy while we eat our meals. He's tried puffs, but has a hard time getting them out of his hands and into his mouth. Zwieback toast has been a HUGE hit with Asher. He seems to thoroughly enjoy gumming it into a disgusting, mushy mess. My hopes are that this will help Asher learn to chew and become accustomed to solid solid food, and that it will help reduce Stephen's crumb phobia (that's a whole different post).

I'm happy he's interested in eating, though. But I guess he's been very passionate about eating from the start, back when he was so violent with me during nursing. Like mother, like son.

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We're on to Climbing Already?!

Just as we're getting accustomed to Asher's newfound mobility in scooting around all over the place, he's already starting to hone some new talents to keep us on our toes. Like climbing. As in, climbing up the stairs. Granted, he hasn't quite mastered this yet, but it will be soon, oh yes. At Grandfather and Marmie's house on Saturday morning, Asher did manage to climb a couple of small steps in the guest room up to the adjacent reading room. These steps are about 3/4 the size of the steps in this picture, so it'll be no time at all that he'll be successful in his attempts to sneak his way upstairs on our staircase. YIKES! He's also starting to try to pull himself up on furniture and on us. Good grief...the kid is going to be walking before I know it, isn't he?

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I Had a Baby & Finally Have the Pics to Prove It

Not sure if you noticed or not, but I never made available the pictures that were taken at the hospital when Asher was born or the pictures from the month of January. What had happened was I lost all of those pictures when Stephen reformatted the computer mid-January. For some reason, the pictures suddenly became corrupt and the computer wouldn't open them. On top of that, I couldn't locate the memory card on which the "original" pictures were located. I was devastated. Then, after several weeks, I found the memory card - it had fallen into one of Asher's drawers. I gleefully bolted downstairs and put the card into the computer only to find a whopping eleven pictures on the card. Somehow, almost all of the pictures had been deleted off of it.

Luckily, Stephen had made a CD for my step-mom of these photos, and it finally occurred to us we could get the pictures back from this CD. DUH! So, this weekend, she brought us the CD and now I'm a happy girl again. I had been so sad thinking Asher's first month was gone forever!

Looking back through these, it feels like it's been ten forevers ago since they were taken. Our baby is so different than the one in those first few cold, gray weeks in January; it's amazing how much he's changed in just seven months.

For a trip down memory lane, here are photos from my hospital stay, and here are January's pictures.

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Some Good Cheese

This is what I've been listening to nonstop in the car this week. It's cheesy, but darn it, Junior Senior always puts a smile on my face. How could it not?

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Hair!

As adorable as it was, Asher is no longer sporting the balding man's mullet hairstyle that he was born with. Over the past few weeks, his hair has really started to fill in; although, his hair is so light that you have to be searching for it to see it. The exception to this is after bathtime when we put lotion on his head and his downy hair sticks out all over the place like he's jammed one of his slobbery fingers in a lightsocket.

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Little Scooter

Asher has definitely entered the curiosity-killed-the-cat phase of babyhood. He's always been extremely active, even when he was just a tiny little fetus with a crazy case of the jimmy legs. But now that he's got creeping down to a fine art, there's no stopping him. He's now crawling beyond the perimeters of one room at a time; if I leave him in the living room for two minutes, when I come back he'll often have crawled out into the foyer. I've finally placed covers on most of the electrical outlets that would be within his reach, which is a good thing, because today at lunch I caught him pawing at one. It seems like some of the most fascinating things right now to him are electrical cords, remote controls, telephones, the vacuum cleaner, computer keyboards, the camera, the breast pump (he thinks it's great fun to sneak over and yank the tubing out while I'm pumping), anything plastic or paper or tissue...Basically, everything you don't want your child to play with. He's so funny; he's constantly got this look of SURPRISE and EXCITEMENT on his face when he's creeping around, like the dog in the commercials panting, Oh boy oh boy oh boy - BACON!

He's a master of his walker now, too. Stephen was telling me yesterday that Asher was running in it after Sam. I thought he was exaggerating, so I put Asher in his walker at one end of the room and walked over to the other side of the room and called his name. Sure enough, the boy practically ran to me - you know, as much running as a walker will allow. He also likes us to stand him up - he'll stand with our assistance for several minutes at a time.

Yep, I think we've officially exited the safe, quiet, immobile months and have entered the scary and exhausting lifetime of mobility. I'm looking forward to it, but it'd probably be wise to go buy a baby gate for the stairs first.

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Better Late than Never...

I am SO belated in writing my congratulatory post to The Squinkors, it's embarrassing. I am the WORST SISTER-IN-LAW EVER. Especially considering the fact that Angela is providing another cousin for Asher to play with, you'd think I would be a little more vocal about my appreciation.

Yes, Angela and Jeff are going to have another baby at the end of January - we're so excited! I learned from one of their Twitter tweets that they will find out the gender on September 3. A girl would be nice for them since they already have a boy, but boys are so much fun that if there's another added to the bunch, we'll be thrilled. So basically, we're just ecstatic to be getting another baby! Asher is happy, too, because then he won't be the "baby" of the family anymore. Actually, her due date is perfect for me because, knowing me, I'll be feeling all nostalgic and sentimental in January since Asher will be turning a YEAR OLD. (YIKES!) It'll be good to have a newborn to love on at that time of year to kind of give me that baby fix I'll be craving.

I just know Rowan is going to LOVE having a little brother or sister to play with. He's such a good boy - when we were in Dayton last weekend, he was helping push Asher's stroller AND not once did he bully Asher. He'll be the perfect big brother, I just know it.

Congratulations, Brown Family! Angela, I need to see more pregnancy posts on your blog...you know, when you don't feel like death warmed over.

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Seven Months Old

Asher turned seven months old today. I thought time was flying before, but now he keeps us so busy that we can barely even pause to realize just how quickly it's passing. It feels like I just wrote his six month post yesterday, and I know I'll be writing his eight month post before I can blink my eyes.

One thing is for sure - things are definitely a lot happier around the house than they were a month ago. Nothing "good" has happened to cheer us up - Stephen hasn't had any job leads, the house is still going bye-bye, I'm busier than ever at work - but I think what has changed is our attitude. I wouldn't necessarily say our attitude has become more optimistic - we just aren't the "life is all butterflies and rainbows and unicorns and sunshine" kind of people. I think now that a little time has passed since Stephen lost his job and I have had to reluctantly continue working and Stephen has had to reluctantly become Mr. Mom, we realize that, OK, things aren't ideal. They aren't the way we planned them to be just over a year ago when I became pregnant. BUT, things aren't horrible, either. (Knock on wood.) The sky didn't turn black and rain frogs. We are learning to make the best of our situation and appreciate and focus on the positives in our lives. I'll admit, I've never been good with compromise so this has been pretty difficult, but I'm catching on. I've accepted the fact that I HAVE to work right now. But, I've also learned to remind myself when feeling down that this situation isn't going to last forever. It will either get better, which gives me something to look forward to, or it could get worse, in which case I need to appreciate and enjoy this time even more.

In other words, I guess you could say we've thrown our hands up in the air and said "Fuck It" to all the bad stuff.

So anyway, I've decided that Asher is just about the most amazing little creature I've ever encountered. I am totally in awe of how drastically and how quickly he has developed over his short seven months. It feels like forever while you're waiting for them to reach their little milestones, but once they start reaching them, you can't believe how quickly it happened. Take crawling, for instance. Granted, his crawling is still at the beginner's phase of army-style, but even still, the little booger is fast and determined. It felt like he was never going to reach this mobile phase, but now that we're here, it seems like only yesterday that he couldn't even hold his head up. Really, babies are incredible! Just over half a year old, and look at all the accomplishments. I'm so proud of him. On top of beginning to crawl, he's also beginning to sit up unsupported. It's so crazy to place him on the floor so he's sitting up, walk out of the room and put a load of laundry in the washer, and walk back in the room and find him still sitting there!

I will be honest, though; there are some things Asher has been doing lately that I'm not very fond of. For one, there's the problem he's been having with staying asleep through the night. BIG INCONVENIENCE, Asher. You were doing so well; what happened? We LOVED our sleepy baby and we miss him a ton! Then there's the PINCHING. Seriously, I'm completely shocked that Stephen and I don't have bruises and scratches covering the backs of our arms, necks, and faces. Of course he's not doing it intentionally - I don't know if he just likes the texture of FLESH squishing in his hands, or what - but it's still incredibly painful and I would love to be able to break this behavior. I've tried saying NO! or OW! in a really stern tone with a stern look on my face, but Asher apparently finds this funny. I've started trying to smack his hands when he does it - but, come on, he's a baby, so my smacks are more like taps and he just sort of looks at me like OOOH, is this a GAME?! Usually, I try combining the stern NO! while removing his hands, and this usually results in a giant cheesy grin on his face followed by another sharp pinch two seconds later. He's still a big hair puller, too, as illustrated above. It wouldn't bother me so much if he didn't have a hold stronger than vice grips coated with superglue. Not to mention, do you notice from the picture how he pushes me away with his feet while pulling my hair towards him? Ugh. I guess these are just things we have to learn to live with for now, while we keep making our unsuccessful attempts at scolding him and teaching him this is not good behavior. Let's hope he catches on before we become scarred and bald.

Another thing I've noticed this month is how much Asher's appearance is changing. He's looking more and more boyish, as opposed to just babyish. And hair! He's getting HAIR! SLOW DOWN, Asher Bug. There's plenty of time to get your handsome on; stay baby-cute a bit longer for Mommy, OK?

This has been a wonderful month. I know it sounds completely corny, but having Asher has made me appreciate life so much more. Not just my life, but life in general. How incredible is it that just a year ago my belly was just barely starting to look pregnant, and look at him now! How incredible is it that I grew something inside of me that can sit up, scoot around the floor, yank my hair and squeal in delight when I yelp in pain? I really don't think I'll ever be able to fully grasp the fact that I'm a mom. It's just too amazing to be true.

And no, I'm not on Prozac.

JULY PICTURES

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No Sleep for the Weary

Is he teething? Is he hot? Is he cold? Is he hungry? Did he have a bad dream? DOES HE JUST WANT TO TORMENT US TO THE POINT OF INSANITY?!

I don't know what the reason is, but Asher has been having a horrible time staying asleep at night lately.

He was a nearly perfect sleeper once we started putting him to sleep in his crib a month and a half ago. Then he had his vaccinations a couple of weeks ago. And then he had a cold. And ever since, his sleeping hasn't been the same. And neither has ours.

All this week (with the exception of Saturday night when we were away from home - GO FIGURE, he slept like baby - like our old baby, the one who'd sleep through the night) he has been waking up around 4:00 - sometimes earlier - and it's been taking a good 1/2 hour to an hour to get him to go back to sleep. Since Stephen is Mr. Mom these days, he's been awesome about getting up to take care of him. However, with the baby monitor still on, I can still hear the crying and sense Stephen's frustration. Forever plagued with a guilty conscience, I groggily drag myself out of bed and to Asher's room to see if I can help. I'll try rocking him, holding him, singing to him, changing his diaper, bribing him with a new car when he turns sixteen, but he cannot be fully consoled. So then I start throwing a sleepy stupor tantrum about how I can't live like this, how I have to get up in an hour, how the lack of sleep is KILLING me! Oh, the horror, the absolute horror! Then Stephen sends me back to bed while, being the gentleman he is, restraining himself from physically pushing me out of the room.

Anyway, we aren't sure what's going on with this restless baby of ours. But God, PLEASE DEAR LORD, help us figure it out. SOON. I had a strong urge to run over a bicyclist today because he was in my way and was wearing really dorky shorts. The lack of sleep probably isn't killing me, but it may kill someone else.

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Big Family Weekend

Finally, Stephen had a weekend off and we had plans to go somewhere and be around PEOPLE. What a concept! Granted, our plans were to go to Dayton to attend Grammy's 90th birthday party - maybe not the craziest, most exciting or exotic plans in the world - but it still counts as being social, dammit. We actually had a really good time, and Asher was SUCH a wonderful boy. I was so worried he'd freak out, being confined in the small club house with about 70 people, but he really seemed to thoroughly enjoy all of the attention, noise and hubbub and didn't get fussy until toward the end, after we'd been there for like five hours.

It's hard to believe Grammy is 90. It's hard to believe anyone could be 90 and still functioning so well. It was just barely over a year ago that she had her stroke and the doctors were fairly certain she wasn't going to make it. Ha! She's undergone lots of rehabilitation, but she's doing so well it's almost as if it never happened. If I make it to 70, I hope to be doing as well as she is at 90.

We stayed overnight with Angela, Jeff, and Rowan afterward, and, as usual, had a grand time visiting with them. It sucks living so far away from them...well, really we only live two hours away, but, with Stephen working on the weekends, visiting has become pretty much a rarity. There was lots of mommy talk, geek talk, and baby talk, and we even took a jaunt over to "Faketown" for lunch and ice cream.

Another big event was meeting Rowan's infamous girlfriend, Lola, and her mom, Emilee. It's funny how many of us bloggers scope out our friends' links to other people's blogs...there have been times I'll find myself on a complete stranger's blog, confused as to how I even got there...a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend...But I think it's so cool, getting to "know" these people you've never even met before. In a weird way, it kind of makes the world seem a little smaller and friendlier. Anyway, it was really great getting to finally meet Emilee and Lola, since, I'll be honest, I've been reading their blog on a regular basis since they were first linked to The Daily Squink, which was...well, I think around the time Lola and Rowan were born. That probably makes me sound pretty creepy, watching a stranger's kid grow up online, but I promise I'm a completely harmless crazy person.

So Asher got to spend a little time around some babies this weekend; albeit, they were all older then he is. He seems to be much more aware and interested in other babies than he was just a month or two ago. This means we really need to make an effort to arrange some play dates for him. Asher also got to hang out with some elders at Grammy's party, and I think he was just as fascinated with them as he was with the babies. So, I guess this also means we need to be making more trips to Dayton to visit Grammy and her friends. Baby needs friends, young and old!

Here are a few pics of our lovely family visit.

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Busy Doing Nothing

When Stephen was working full-time and Asher was spending his days at Grandfather Daycare, I didn't realize how much free time I had. I was alone for my hour and a half lunch break, and usually had one to two hours alone in the evening before they would get home. Now that Stephen is home during the days, we're back on our no-rest-for-the-weary schedule. I feel like I'm constantly ON, going going going, from 6 a.m. until almost midnight every day. Don't get me wrong - for once I'm NOT complaining - but this is a huge reason I've felt unable to keep up in the blogging world lately. Well, that, and the fact that we're pretty much boring. Really boring. I've gotten a few recent complaints regarding the fact that I haven't been a very loyal blogger and several Asher update requests, so I thought I'd cram a little blogging into my lunch break to try to keep the peace with my three or four readers.

We're still trying to bounce back from Asher's vaccinations last Monday and/or the cold he came down with last week. Two nights ago was the first night he'd slept through the night in a week, and he's still not napping as well as he usually does. Needless to say, Stephen and I have been dragging ourselves around like zombies. Thankfully, Asher seems to be on the mend, so hopefully life will include a bit more sleep for us soon. Asher has been in pretty good spirits, though, and he's as active as ever. He's creeping around and trying to crawl, and is starting to sit unsupported. I checked his gums yesterday and thought I may have felt a little sharp spot...but then again, two seconds later I felt and couldn't find anything. It doesn't help that he won't hold his head still for more than a nanosecond at a time, so my findings remain completely inconclusive for now.

Today, Asher is at Marmie's and will also be spending the night there so that Stephen can get some work done for his two part-time jobs. Notice I didn't say Asher is at Grandfather Daycare; unfortunately, Grandfather Daycare is no more...Grandfather had the AUDACITY to get a job! We're really happy for Joe, but we know Asher will miss those days of hanging out with Grandfather dearly.

There's nothing new to report on the job front for Stephen. As for me, I'm completely SWAMPED at work, so no news there, either. Nothing new is going on with the house. We haven't gone anywhere exciting, or done anything fun, or seen anyone (other than grandparents, of course) in I-don't-know-how-long. I told you, WE'RE BORING. But not necessarily completely by choice...we just can't seem to find the time, energy, or funds to be social or to do anything. So many other people seem to have no problems having a life...what is our deal? Are we parentally retarded? It feels like everything is so unorganized - from my desk at work, to my closet, to my mind. But, hey, this is nothing new, either. Seriously, what was I expecting - a baby would make me MORE organized? I am so funny.

All in all, though, things are good and we're happy. I know you'd probably never guess that from reading my blog, but really I just like to bitch a lot. We all have to be good at something, right?

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Approaching the End of Buzzy Seat Season

This was once a common sight in the Barr household: little Asher snoozing away in his buzzy seat. Now it's a rarity, but was amazingly caught on camera today by Stephen. He's now way too active to just fall asleep, but I guess when you refuse to nap for two days in a row it eventually catches up with you.

Asher's buzzy seat days are coming to a close, though, unfortunately. This evening while we were fixing dinner, Asher began crying and Stephen poked his head around the breakfast bar to check on him. Stephen started to laugh and told me to come have a look. Wouldn't you know it, Asher was on the floor, still partially strapped into the buzzy seat, with the seat tipped over on its side. He wasn't hurt at all, just startled. More than anything, he seemed completely irritated that the seat was still managing to hold onto him, despite his jumping overboard. Then Stephen proceeded to tell me that basically the same thing happened yesterday, too. Crap. Time to pack up the swing too, I'm afraid.

He's throwing himself out of his seats and he's really taking off with his newfound creeping skills. He's so darn active; he's constantly like a little fish flopping out of water. Thank God for the walker and exersaucer - those provide some much-needed restraint before he becomes totally mobile - but what happens once he starts walking? You mean we're actually supposed to toddle after him everywhere and keep an eye on him? Yikes. Who knew so much responsibility would be required in this whole baby thing?

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What a Crap Day

Don't let the picture fool you; just as I predicted in yesterday's post, today was not a good day.

(1) Asher awoke extra early this morning, starting around 4:30-5 a.m., crying. Not for a bottle, not because he was done sleeping, but just because he was grumpy or didn't feel well and wanted to sleep on someone. After much jumping out of bed and attempting to console him bedside, he got his way. And I got little sleep and a stiff back.

(2) During my early morning baby wrangling, I was mauled by my cat. Stupid-ass Charlie...I finally got Asher to sleep and laid him in his crib, tiptoed out of his room only to find Charlie and Sam had wandered in. I scooped Charlie up because he meows like a little beotch when you try to shoo him out and, instead, attempted to shoo Sam out. For some stupid-ass reason, this freaked Charlie out, so he mangled my upper left arm by springing off of it with his back claws. As I was left biting my knuckles to keep from yelping in pain, he meowed like a little beotch and galloped out of the room, which, of course, woke Asher up. Again. If you can tell from the below picture, I now have three perfect puncture wounds surrounded by a lovely bluish-purplish bruise. Sexy for summer wear!

(3) Asher fell off the guest bed today when Stephen turned his back for a short moment to grab his glasses. I was in the other room and when I heard the immediate screaming that followed the loud THUMP! I knew what had happened. Stephen felt awful. I told him at least he didn't fall from the stroller on the hard floor in the kitchen, face first. Not that that happened under my watchful eye, oh no...never.

(4) Asher would not take a nap today. Not at all. Surely that couldn't be because he doesn't trust us, after we had people stick needles in his legs yesterday and allowed him to plummet off the bed today?

(5) Work was awful. AWFUL. I ended up taking all day off yesterday because of some stuff Stephen had to get done for one of his jobs and because of Asher's doctor's appointment, and then I called in this morning because of Asher not feeling well and me not getting hardly any sleep. My desk was a disaster when I left it on Friday, and you should have seen it today. And my inbox! I shudder thinking about all of those wretched, unread e-mails. And then there's the stupid-ass "fires" that management thinks you should drop everything to tend to and then they have the audacity to get snippy with you on why something isn't done...WELL DUH! Um, perhaps if I was allowed, for once, to focus on my work-work instead of stupid-ass protocols or reports, THINGS WOULD GET DONE! I am BEYOND done with that place; if Stephen hadn't lost his job recently, I was ready to put my notice in today. I was so close to tears by the time I left today. I hate it that I allow that place to get to me like that, too. It's hard, though, because I just want to be with my little boy. It was murder having to leave him today when I knew he wasn't feeling well and, no matter how many times I tell myself otherwise, I can't help but feel like a bad mom for not being with him. I keep telling myself, this is temporary, you can leave soon! But I worry I won't be able to. Ugh. One of my attorneys gave me some excellent advice today when he told me to take some Valium. Seriously, I'm so high-strung lately, I really do wonder if I ought to get on some anti-anxiety medication. I'm so worried I'm going to blow a gasket one of these days, or that my poor heart is just going to explode from pumping so vigorously all day long. I've always had a short fuse, but since Asher was born...I don't even think a fuse exists at all anymore.

(6) Stephen received a notice that there's a certified letter awaiting him at the post office from his ex-employer. WHAT THE FLIP DO THOSE BASTARDS WANT?!

(7) Not one, but two pairs of my favorite pants somehow got dark stains on them during washing. WTF? The washing machine is supposed to produce clean clothes, not make them dirtier! Frick! So now I have to go buy new pants for a job I don't want to have to even go to, let alone dress for.

Lord, I pray tomorrow is much better. And if it's not, please lead me through and help me not to maim anyone. Not that I have anyone in mind, no, no one at all. Valium? Me? Really? Nah...

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Poor Mr. Grumpy Bug

Asher had his belated six-month checkup this afternoon. Aside from it taking almost two hours (of course, the actual exams with the nurses and doctor took maybe twenty minutes combined) only for Asher to end up in tears at the end due to a round of four shots, everything went really well. Asher is about 17 1/2 pounds, which puts him in the 50th percentile for weight (although I still swear the kid weighs at least thirty). It also turns out that he's in the 75th percentile for both height and head circumference. A child of mine, tall? The melon-sized head is no shocker, however; it's a well-known fact I have a bit of a complex regarding my own enormous noggin, thanks to the boyfriend my sister had back in junior high. Jamie told me Scott said, "'Your sister is kind of weird looking. It's like she's got a tiny body and a giant head.' Isn't that funny?!" Yeah, real funny; I have a giant head?! Zits, weird body hair, freckles, pale skin, thick eyebrows...all of those "flaws" I possessed I was well aware of. But now I have to add "huge cranium" to my list of insecurities? I've never been the same since. I'd wear a hat to cover it up, but I can't find any large enough to fit.

Thankfully, Asher has the height-thing going for him; hopefully this is an indication that his body-head proportion will be less freakish than mine. If not, it's no big deal. You know what they say...big head = big brain. Not to mention, he has the cutest darn head. If it happens to be large, that's just more available space for cuteness to reside.

Asher was such a good boy during the checkup. He did scream and cry during his shots, but within a few seconds, he was smiling at daddy again. Unfortunately, the cheeriness didn't last long...he screamed bloody murder for a good hour this evening (see below picture, which was taken after he'd calmed down a bit). After some Tylenol and a bath, he perked up a little and even managed to do some scooting around before bed...looks like that inchworm maneuver he's been working on is finally starting to take him places. He's not 100% by any means, though. I put him to bed an hour and a half ago, and he's awoken two or three times already. They say the reactions to the vaccines will be the same as they were the previous times, since they're the same vaccines, but I don't remember him being this grumpy at all. I think it's going to be a long night.

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Six Months Old

It's been a very hectic past few weeks, to say the least. I haven't had much time, energy, or even been in the mood to blog lately. So, needless to say, this post is almost a week past due. It just goes to show what a neglectful parent I am.

Asher is a whopping six months old now. Can you believe it? I can't. I went to the mall a few days ago and saw several newborn babies. My heart melted and I teared up a little when I looked down at Asher and realized my baby isn't one of those tiny babies anymore. Not that he ever really was a "tiny" baby, but you get what I'm saying. He's getting to be an older baby. Halfway to one year! He's now wearing the 6-9 month clothes I bought for him last summer on sale when I was just a few months pregnant with him. He's just starting stage 2 foods, and he thinks fresh watermelon or banana in his munchy teether is the greatest thing EVER. He talks all the time, and his eyes are in constant motion, trying to take the whole world in at once. It's become quite the challenge to even get him to drink an entire bottle because he's too darn distracted by EVERYTHING. He's almost outgrown his swing and buzzy seat - I pray to God he is able to sit up soon on his own because I don't know what we'll do without the aid of the swing or buzzy seat. When did this all happen?!

Asher's flowering personality and sweet disposition has really pulled us through the muck and mire this month. I'm not sure what it is, but when he gives me one of his huge, cheesey grins, I just know in my heart everything is going to be alright as long as he's around.

June pictures of Asher Bug are here!

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Positive Thoughts, Positive Thoughts!

Well, just as we assumed would happen, Stephen lost his job today. Of course, wouldn't you know they didn't mention word one about the retarded and false complaint that had been made about him only a week ago. Was the investigation ever even finished? Obviously not - they never even spoke to Stephen regarding the alleged incident. I honestly sometimes wonder if the whole thing was concocted by his bitch - er, I mean, boss. Who knows, because I doubt we ever will. Working in a law office is really great when shit happens in your life because you have a world of legal expertise right there at your fingertips. Unfortunately, their legal expertise didn't have anything positive to tell me, except that they're positive there's not much we can do. In Indiana, an employer doesn't have to have any reason for terminating you - they just can't terminate you based on discriminatory factors. And, I guess proving you've been wrongfully terminated is next to impossible to do, especially when they play the "oh you're just not a good fit for the company" card. How conveniently vague, thanks. On top of that, I would assume it'd cost a lot of money to try to prove it, of which we don't have.

*sigh* This sucks.

So my emotions this afternoon have been flip flopping a bit. There's a little bit of relief - like I said, I knew in my gut they were going to do this to him, it was just a matter of when? There's a LOT of pure rage - seriously, how can they get away with this?! Stephen bends over backwards to be a good employee - he even gave up his one free Saturday in nearly two months to drive two hours to take ticket stock to a store, and do they know how much overtime he didn't claim because he wanted to do a good and thorough job?! Livid! I am livid! Why does the nice, good guy always get stomped on? I am sick and tired of this trend of his bosses chewing him up and spitting him out. I promise I am not just sticking up for Stephen because he's my husband - he'll be the first to tell you I'm probably his biggest critic, behind himself. He is truly a GOOD person, and a GOOD worker. Ugh... And, of course there's sadness; after all, there goes my opportunity to quit my job and be a full-time mommy. I have to admit I'm feeling a little heartbroken right now. But, I'm determined not to let this give me an ulcer; after all, he'd only worked there for about five weeks and we went for so long without him working that job before. Besides that, Joe can have his knee surgery, Stephen can be with Asher Bug, Stephen can search for another job, Joe can recover from surgery, Stephen can get another job, Joe then can have Asher back, I can quit my job after the grace period has ended, and then my dream can come true!

It's not just wishful thinking! It's just GOT to happen! One of these days. Maybe? Boo.

I won't think about the fact that it took around nine months of searching, applying and interviewing for him to finally land a good job.

It's really aggravating because I don't feel like we're greedy people...I don't feel like we ask for too much. All I want is a nice, yet modest, house, a few kids, a wonderful husband, one reliable income off which we can live, and good health. Is that too much to ask? Really? Watch My Super Sweet 16 on MTV and then tell me I ask for too much.

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If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

I haven't been very diligent in posting to this lately and it's due to two main reasons. One, we've been very busy the past couple of weeks due to Stephen working so much or being out of town. Asher and I actually went with him on an overnight trip last week and had a really good time. This week I took a couple of days off while Stephen was out of state to stay home with Asher. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Asher Bug. We napped, went shopping, listened to PaPa toot his horn at Park Band...we had lots of good times. Spending time with him during the week further fueled my desire to be at home with him full time. Grandfather Day Care is wonderful, and I know Asher loves spending time there, but it kills me that when he's home during the weekends, I feel like I'm disrupting any sort of routine that's been established for him. Not to mention, only seeing him for an hour or so an evening before his bedtime is murder. Granted, I'm thrilled and extremely grateful that Joe has been so gracious to watch Asher for us - if Stephen nor I can stay at home with the baby, we want him to be with family. Unfortunately, I don't know how much longer this can last...Joe has a very bad knee and is needing to have surgery. I can't keep expecting him to put his health on hold so that he can accommodate us. If this had been just a week ago, I'd probably have been thrilled when Maryann called to see when they ought to schedule Joe's surgery because it would have meant I'd need to quit my job. Finally! An excuse! We'd agreed I'd keep working for as long as Joe wanted or was able to watch Asher. However...

Reason number two I haven't been posting much: the shit keeps hitting the fan.

This has been both the most joyous and the most stressful year of our lives. Asher, of course, is our highlight of the year - of our lifetimes. But all the transitioning into parenthood, the lack of money, the loss of our house...it's been nothing but chaos. Things were looking brighter the past couple of months, though. Stephen found a job he really likes, and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, as far as work was concerned. We'd grown to view the loss of the house as a blessing in disguise, and have actually been looking forward to moving someplace else.

And it never, ever fails. As soon as you feel like your head is above water, something - or, more appropriately, someone - comes along and shoves you back under.

I won't go into details as it would be unwise to at this time - and you know it's difficult for the Queen of TMI to not go into details - but I'll just say that we just found out earlier this week that some very false and very ridiculous (read: laughable) accusations have been made about my husband that is jeopardizing both his job and his reputation. So, once again, everything is up in the air in our lives and we're just waiting, waiting, waiting for the next steps that need to be taken. And in the meantime, we've both been upset, a little depressed, disappointed, frustrated, scared, and angry at the whole mess. Those emotions don't make for very fun postings, so I have been sparing everyone from the drama.

Hopefully I'll be feeling in better spirits and will hop back on the blogging bandwagon soon, but if the number of postings seem few and far between you'll know it's just because the inside of my head is a pigsty right now.

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Separated!

Today, Stephen went to West Virginia for work and won't be back until Thursday night. Asher is spending the night at Grandfather Daycare. I'm at home with the kitties.

It is so weird - SO weird - being home by myself. I can't remember the last time I spent the night by myself. I think it's been at least a couple of years. How on earth am I going to sleep tonight? I have no idea.

I miss my boys like crazy. Asher, at least, will be home tomorrow evening. Poor Stephen is stuck in an almost-crappy hotel room by himself. At least, he'd better be by himself. We all know how Stephen is. Actually, his evening sounded like it was going to be pretty exciting. I think he was planning on ordering a steak dinner in, and cruising next door to K-Mart for some air freshener to de-stink his room that was a smoking room just a couple of months ago and to find some disinfectant spray for the sofa in the room.

Stephen, I came across this picture of The Boy - I think Jamie took it a few weeks ago - and thought it'd make you smile. I hope you have a good night, and I hope the bed bugs don't bite. Literally.

(I miss you.)

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Squawk & Walk

I was cleaning out my pictures and came across this video my sister recorded of Asher in his walker the first weekend he used it, about three weeks ago. He doesn't exactly "walk" much, but he does show off his best baby pterodactyl impression and, I must say, he's pretty darn good.

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Singing the Praises of Stephen

Asher wanted to write his daddy a letter to wish him a happy Father's Day, but pretty much the only words that came out of his mouth were, "Pshlurrrrrb aye aye aye GAK! Dwerdle glurb." I'll be honest - I really don't speak Baby very fluently, not even after studying it for the past few months nonstop. I began to write a letter for him, but we both decided that would come off as extremely cheesy. So, we'll wait until his vocabulary builds just a touch before we go having any posts directly from Asher on here. In the interim, I can speak on what a wonderful partner in parenting I have.

He's not afraid of baby poop. That, to me, is like the sexiest thing in all of the world. Screw good looks, intelligence, money, success...give me a man who isn't opposed to changing a few dirty diapers. He will stay up late to rock Asher to sleep so that I can go to bed. There were times in the early post-birth days in which I would call him while he was at work, an absolute wreck, and he would come home to give me relief and reassurance. He's been by my side from me puking during labor to the recovery period, when he had to not only help me to the toilet, but also help clean me up afterwards. He's comforted me during my depression, and laughed with me during all of Asher's peeing and pooping mishaps. He's made me feel pretty when I was hugely pregnant with Asher, when I was an unshowered, unkempt, flannel-pajamas-wearing wreck that month after I had Asher, and even now with my deflated boobs and unshaven legs. He's catered to my every need and suffered all my mood swings, and doesn't even demand sex from me. He's worked nonstop for us, and he's stayed home for us.

He truly is the glue that keeps us together, and we would fall apart without him.

Happy first Father's Day, Stephen. Despite all my nagging, complaints, and criticism, you honestly are the best father I could ever want for my child. I'm blessed to have you as my husband, and Asher is blessed to have you as his daddy. We love you so much, and I hope you realize how important you are, both to me and your little buddy.

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Boo!

You see that face? That's Asher's Boo Face. That's exactly how I feel right now.

Asher spent last night in Grandfather Day Care and, I'll admit, I freaked out a little at first. But I did alright. I missed him like crazy, but I survived and I grew. I learned I am capable of letting go of my reins for a little bit and trusting someone else to take over for me. I learned I will not self-combust if parted from my baby for a night. I learned Asher doesn't need me after all and is happier at Grandfather Day Care being doted on by people other than me. He doesn't even need my milk - Grandfather's yummy formula is just as satisfying. Boo.

So I survived one night without baby. Can I survive two?

I found out Stephen is working late tonight in Muncie again, and then may have to go back early in the morning tomorrow. Maryann called me (probably on behalf of Asher, the little turd) to see if I'd be interested in letting him spend another night with them. Well...NO! I'll have you know that Joe claims that Asher is now HIS little boy and that Asher said he doesn't care to have his "old" parents back. I just knew little old appleface man couldn't be trusted. I could have gone down and picked him up, I suppose, but, unfortunately, they live 45 minutes away from us, and by the time I'd get home from work, milk, drive down there in rush hour traffic, and drive back up, it'll be 8:00 or later. And then what? It'd be time for him to go to bed and, in the early morning, he'd just have to get up and go back down there again. Would it really be worth making him sit in the car all that time just so I would get to see him for a few minutes? It's worth it from my end of the stick, but I think it'd probably just be unnecessary disruption to his "routine." Not to mention, Stephen informed me some gas stations have raised prices up to $4.19 a gallon today.

I am so beyond ready to quit my job. I am so tired of having all this chaos. I need more stability. I need to provide more stability to my child. I feel like a bad mom, leaving him overnight for two nights with his grandparents because Stephen and I are working. I feel like I'm choosing my stupid job over him. I feel like I'm missing out on my child's life because of everything going on. For instance, we ran out of formula yesterday morning because we didn't know we were low. That's how little we're taking care of him.

It goes without saying, though, that we are INCREDIBLY lucky that Asher has such a wonderful Grandfather who is willing to go above and beyond to take care of Asher for us when we aren't able to. And, I think it's great that Joe actually wants (or seems to want, at least) to take care of Asher. I love it that they're bonding - I want my kids to be super close to their grandparents; that's very important to me.

Unfortunately, all this bonding time means time I have to give up with him and that just plain SUCKS for me. Of course, I won't lie - there is a certain amount of pleasure I feel about having FREEDOM back. If only I had money, I'd go shopping. If only I had the company of my husband, I'd go out to dinner. Ugh, no baby and I still have no fun.

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Separation Anxiety at a Record High

My separation anxiety, that is.

Stephen is doing some work in Muncie this week, and it's making our schedules (I use that term very loosely) crazy. Tomorrow he has to be there at 9:00 a.m., which makes getting Asher to Grandfather Day Care (think opposite directions from each other) a very tricky task. Luckily, Grandfather Day Care (read: my father-in-law) is extremely flexible and generous and willing to drive north to meet us more than halfway. In fact, Grandfather Day Care is so generous and committed to providing excellent customer service that it's willing (read: eager) to KEEP OUR BABY OVERNIGHT.

Grandfather Day Care, we greatly appreciate the lengths you're willing to go in order to make life easier on us full-time working parents. We are very blessed that Asher has such a caring environment in which to spend his daytime.

But nighttime, too?! You really shouldn't have - it's too much! No, seriously! I feel faintly sick to my stomach from the rush of emotions I'm having. Panicked! Sad! Free! Relieved! Sad! Free! Sad some more! Panicked about feeling relieved!

Do you realize this is the first time I will have been away from my baby for 24 hours? Actually, by tomorrow evening, it will have been 36 hours since I saw Asher last. That's 2160 minutes. That's doable, right?

Asher will be just fine, I know that much. And really, it's not like I get to see him for more than an hour or two an evening, anyway, during the week these days, so it shouldn't be too much of a shock on my system. Right? Tell me it'll be fine! It'll be fine, I'll be fine, he'll be fine, WE'LL ALL BE FINE AND WON'T HAVE PANIC ATTACKS. Not more than a couple, at least, I promise.

Yeah, what was that thing I mentioned in my last post about sounding like a clingy mom? Not me. No, not clingy at all. Not even an eensy bit.

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Hopefully Not Just a Fluke

I know this is going to make me sound like a clingy mom, but up until last night, Asher was still sleeping in our bedroom. We put him to sleep in his bassinet in our room (which I did bravely move away from the side of the bed after the first month), and he's good to go for a few hours, other than the few times we have to run in to put his buggy back in his mouth. Then, shortly after I go to sleep, I get tired of having to keep getting up to plug his mouth up, so I just drag his baby butt into bed with me. Ask Stephen - two adults and a baby do not sleep comfortably together in a queen size bed, especially when said baby likes to sleep perpendicular to said adults and also enjoys kicking and slapping in his sleep. Despite my baby's habit of flopping and flailing like a fish out of water during his sleep, I really enjoy snuggling up to him and giving him little kisses throughout the night. Stephen, on the other hand, cannot seem to appreciate sleeping on the very edge of the bed with his pillow hanging halfway off in the same position the entire night. He's so weird.

We originally decided Asher would sleep in our room for a couple of reasons. One, I was breastfeeding and it was so much easier when he'd wake in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning to just reach over and pluck him from his bassinet and feed him in bed. Big surprise that laziness was a factor, huh. Two, I felt more comfortable with him in the room with us - like I could somehow prevent bad things from happening to him if he was only ten feet away from me rather than in the next room. We decided, however, that once he outgrew his bassinet, we'd transfer him to his own room to sleep in his crib. Well, he sort of outgrew his bassinet about a month ago when he reached 15 pounds...I guess I've just been stalling to put him outside of my comfort zone. Not to mention the laziness factor again...who wants to walk clear to the next room in the middle of the night to replace a fallen pacifier?

For some reason, though, last night after I'd rocked him to a sufficient state of drowsiness, I just decided to take the plunge and plop him in his crib. The kid rolled over on his side, and we didn't hear a peep from him until 7:00 this morning when Buggy fell out of his mouth.

Let me emphasize that: Not one peep. Not even one! As in, he kept his mouth so closed that his pacifier remained in place ALL NIGHT LONG. Until 7:00 a.m.! I won't say how many times I woke up and went in to make sure he was still breathing because he was just THAT quiet. In fact, if it weren't for my worry, I'd have actually had a restful night's sleep because this was also the first night in I-don't-know-how-long that he hasn't ended up in bed with us.

We are keeping our fingers crossed and hoping and praying that the crib will bring many more pleasant, restful nights for both Asher and us. But, I do have the magical ability of constantly jinxing things when it comes to the baby, so don't be surprised if I'm posting about Baby Insomniac here in the next couple of days.

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Season Aversion?

It's incredibly hard to believe it's been a whopping year ago since we came out with the news about my pregnancy with Asher. Our lives have changed so much in the past year (so so so so SO SO SO, oh-so much), but it still seems like only yesterday that I was feeling the crippling grip of morning sickness, better described as all-day and all-night sickness. Of course, that could be because I'm feeling it ALL OVER AGAIN.

No, no, no, I'm not pregnant. This is even weirder than pregnancy. My sister-in-law had mentioned it to me last Fall, saying that she felt pangs of nausea just like she did the year prior when she was going through her pregnancy pukiness. I'd never heard of this before. And still to this day, I haven't read or heard anything about this in all of the hundreds of books, internet articles, e-mails, and conversations with other women I've had.

But wouldn't you know it? The weather has become disgustingly humid and hot (like it is every June in Indiana), and we've had to close up the house and turn on the air conditioner. The minute this all happened, I started getting pangs of nausea. It's the craziest thing! And not only is the weather making me want to barf, but certain smells that made me queasy last year are suddenly setting me off now, too.

It must be a psychological issue, one similar to taste aversion - where you eat something, get sick for whatever reason within a short period of time after eating it, and then you relate your feelings of sickness to that food to the point where just the thought or smell of that food can make you feel sick. You know, the way I can't even think about a chicken pot pie from Boston Market because I had it for dinner the first day that I started feeling nauseous last year. I could totally hurl from just writing about it. It's the only explanation there could be - the weather is just flooding me with precious memories from last year. Memories of me with my head in the toilet bowl. At least last year when I went through it, though, it was for a good cause - I don't know why the hell I want to continue tormenting myself with it this year.

I have been very reflective, though, about my pregnancy lately, and not just because of my lingering pseudo-morning sickness. Ever since Mother's Day, the day on which I found out I was pregnant last year, I've been fondly reminiscing about being pregnant. Actually, before I even had Asher I felt sad about the pregnancy ending. I loved the excitement that came with being pregnant; I loved how special I felt for getting to grow a person inside of me; I loved the bond I felt with the baby. And yes, true, there will probably be at least one more pregnancy in my future. And it will be special, too, but it's going to be a different kind of special. I realize this makes me sound selfish, but it's true - I have a kid now already, I've been Pregnant Kim before, it's old news, and I won't be treated quite the same as I was the first time around. It's like, the novelty of it will have been worn off. Not to mention there'll be a little rug rat I'll be chasing after while in the throes of vomiting and backaches. I'm afraid, too, I won't have the time or energy to cherish the subsequent pregnancies like I did with my first.

Who knew nausea could bring about such feelings of nostalgia?

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Bye Bye Aunt Jamie & Ella Bella

Jamie and Ella left this evening after spending six days with us caring for Asher while we worked. Asher will dearly miss gazing at his pretty aunt and curiously observing all the energy wrapped up in his cousin. I will dearly miss having two extra sets of hands helping me out and the company of Ella while I pump Asher's milk. Even if she does point and laugh at my "beeps."

Asher also wanted to thank Aunt Jamie for cleaning him up after his most destructive diaper ever yesterday. He says no one cleans up poop quite like his auntie.

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So Much for Date Night

My kind-hearted little sister has been cooped up in the house with me and Stephen for the past five days. She's witnessed my snapping, my frustration, my complaints, and my impatience toward Stephen. She's noted the whopping ten minutes we have to spend together daily. She even pointed out to me the other night that, hey, you guys didn't have sex last night - else, she would have heard us on the baby monitor.

She's seen the bruising of our marriage.

With Stephen currently working two jobs, and with me working full-time and then caring for Asher in the evenings, there simply isn't time for us anymore. For instance, as of right now, I haven't seen my husband since yesterday at 7:20 a.m. because he had to stay overnight in Evansville last night for work. Normally, I would be dying, just dying, from missing him. Sadly, though, it really hasn't felt any differently than any normal evening. That's how little time we've been spending together the past couple of weeks.

So lovely Jamie decided Stephen and I need to go out on a date and generously insisted on watching Asher tonight. I've been so excited about this. He and I have gone out once - ONCE - alone since Asher was born, and that was only like two weeks after Asher was born for about two hours, when Jamie was here the last time helping us out. We desperately need some time together, if nothing else, so I can remember what it's like to look at him without wanting to pull his hair out and he can remind himself that his wife is capable of looking like something other than a mental patient.

Because this post exists, you know date night hasn't happened. Instead, here I sit, posting to my lame-ass blog. Stephen's work took a little longer to do, and then on his way home he ran into some pretty bad storms and had to GO TO THE MALL to ride the storm out. Bastard. So he's not home, yet, and I'm hungry, cranky and tired, and to top it all off, it's storming outside.

It's a damn good thing I didn't waste my time shaving my legs this evening.

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A Childhood Fantasy Come True

Guess where I'm going to be on October 24. Just guess! Only at the sweetest concert ever, that's where! That's right, baby - I'm going to see NEW KIDS ON THE FREAKIN' BLOCK. And it's going to be so damn awesome.

I think I was in third grade when NKOTB first started becoming popular, and I was in love with them for a good three years or so. You know, until they sort of disappeared. That's a long time for a kid! My first love was Jordan...It's funny, I had a stuffed moose that I used to sleep with and every night I'd pray to God that he'd turn my moose into Jordan. Yeah. There would have been so many things wrong with that had he granted my wish. Then, towards the end of their popularity, I ditched Jordan for Joey. Mmmm....Joey. Once he finally hit puberty, he really had a nice voice.

I would have killed to have been able to go to one of their concerts when I was little. Alas, I was, like, EIGHT, so for some reason Mom would never let me go. Even though I had all their albums and day-glo t-shirts and scrunchies and Tiger Beat posters slathered all over my bedroom walls! Gosh, Mom, I was like their BIGGEST FAN and you wouldn't let me go support them and I just KNOW that's what was the cause of their downfall.

I am not ashamed to admit it, I am still a fan. I still know all the words to "Popsicle," and "Please Don't Go Girl" still makes me swoon.

As soon as my BFF Angie found out about the NKOTB reunion tour (don't call ME a dork - SHE'S the one on their mailing list), she fervently began her quest to obtain tickets. But wouldn't you know, the tickets sold out practically as soon as they went on sale. Besides that, tickets in the nosebleed section were over $100. Guess I'm not much of a fan, after all. There's no WAY in hell I'd pay that just for nostalgia's sake. Fortunately, with Angie's sweet texting skills, she WON tickets from a radio station the other day! And she wants me to be her date! We don't yet know where our seats are going to be, but I've got my hopes set for Joey's lap.

This concert is going to be so freakin' bad ass it's not even funny. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of my banana clips and day-glo t-shirts, though. To Jordan and Joey: It's too bad for you I'm married, 'cause I'm like totally legal now and stuff.

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Five Months Old

Asher turned five months old on Monday and let me say I'm so happy to be in this stage of babyhood. Just when I think Asher can't get any cuter, I swear he does. Just when I think I couldn't possibly love him any more, the next day my heart seems to swell for him even more. Just when I think this is my favorite stage, the next one comes along and is even better. And just when I think I'm getting the hang of things, Asher proves me so wrong.

It's been a month full of changes for Mr. Asher Bug. He's had to get used to having people other than Mommy and Daddy care for him during the day. So far, Laurie, Grandfather, and Aunt Jamie have been Godsends and taken turns babysitting Asher. Surprisingly (to me), he's taken to this change quite well; in fact, I think he's been thoroughly enjoying his time spent away from his parents. I had concerns that being juggled between different caregivers would be too much for him, but so far he's been in great spirits for everyone. I think it's been much more difficult on me, worrying about him, worrying about the person caring for him...worrying about EVERYTHING like I have the tendency to do.

Asher has also had big changes made to his diet this month. No longer does he feast on breastmilk alone...and no longer are his poopies non-toxic. So far, he eats rice cereal, pears, carrots, apples, sweet potatoes, and bananas. He seems to like all the foods, but bananas are definitely his favorite, with sweet potatoes a close second. All we have left in the cabinet that he hasn't tried are peaches, squash, peas, and prunes, and then I think he'll pretty much have mastered his 1st foods.

The biggest developmental gain he's made this month was rolling over. I just know it'll only be a short matter of time before he starts to creep - he's already working on an inchworm maneuver in which he gets on his tummy, sticks his butt way up in the air, and kicks his legs trying to move forward. He still has a lot of work to do on getting those arms to work together with his legs, so the top part of his body is kind of like a giant anchor right now. And that's OK with me; I have a feeling I'm going to miss it when the anchor is gone and I'm chasing him all over the place nonstop. He's also spending more time playing upright in his exersaucer and walker, putting those crazy jimmy legs of his to work.

Another talent he's discovered is the art of SQUEALING. When happy, SQUEAL! When angry, SQUEAL! When tired, SQUEAL! His language now primarily consists of squealing, squawking, whining, cooing, and the beloved crying. Yeah, the crying has even started to change, too. It's grown LOUDER and more obnoxious, especially when mixed with a good angry squeal. We really need to pick up a quart-sized bottle of Tylenol the next time we're at Costco.

This month he's also experiencing his first cold. Stephen and I have both been sick in the last few weeks, so we knew it was inevitable that he'd catch our crud. He seems to be feeling better, but is a little cranky and his cough asounds like he's been smoking a few too many cigarettes lately.

Here are his May pictures. All in all, its been a fun month. I'm excited to see what tricks Asher Bug has up his onesie for us in month six.

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King of Rolling Over

Asher just learned to roll over a couple of days ago. It was funny because once he figured it out, we couldn't keep him on his back. Unfortunately for him, he hates to be on his tummy. And once he'd roll over, he couldn't figure out how to roll back to his back. I lost track of the number of times I had to run upstairs after I put him to bed last night because he was crying because he'd flipped onto his tummy and couldn't get back on his back.

Today while I was at work, however, he mastered the skill of rolling over the other way for Aunt Jamie. I'm so happy he figured this out so quickly because it was sad how pleased he'd be with himself for flipping over, but then immediately would become frustrated at being "stuck." I am a little sad, however, that I missed seeing this...guess it's the first of my missing out on one of his "firsts." He is so entertained by this new skill; for ten minutes straight this evening he did nothing but roll over, back to front, front to back, back to front, front to back.

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