Headbutting E.T.

Ruby's learning new stuff all the time - smart little cookie that she is. Steve thinks maybe she's ready for grade 1. And yes, I do know how obnoxious that sounds.

Yesterday she started doing two new things. Two things that I did not teach her.

First, she started touching her index finger to mine. I make a pointy finger, she makes a pointy finger. Then she touches her pointy finger to mine and smiles at me. I thought it was a fluke until she did it a few times. It's super cute.

But uh... not so super cute? Is her other new "thing". Headbutting. She looks at me and smiles and I smile back... and then she smashes her forehead into my face. Yesterday she headbutt (headbutted?) my nose so hard it made my eyes water.

The finger thing she can keep doing but how do you teach a baby NOT to do something? Like headbutting?

E.T. was cute because he was endearing. And he didn't go around headbutting people. I'm sure his fate would have been different if he did.

Empty Square

On Saturday night, Ruby went to stay at grandma's house and Steve and I went out to the Kings of Leon concert. I had been super excited about going to this concert for months. Steve and I even got tickets to his company's suite at the venue.

I had a couple of drinks before the concert and then a few (apparently quite a few) during. But I had my last drink at about 9:30pm and I was in bed by midnight.

You guys? I am JUST starting to feel normal again today. Seriously.

I am not the Cocktail Queen that I once was.

Not sure if it is because I am out of the cocktailing circuit and am therefore out of practice? Or if it was because I was up at 5am the next morning and unable to get back to sleep because that's when Ruby sometimes wakes me up? Or if it was because I did not have the luxury of lounging on the couch, eating greasy food, napping and watching TV the next day and instead I had to drive 45 minutes to pick up my daughter who does not care if mommy has a hangover, she still needs food and diaper changes and a bath and playtime.

Probably a combo of all of it together.

And in the days following, throw in a diaper rash, constipation, teething and food boycotting (that shit is brutal all together!!!)? A trip into the city with cranky baby to get a haircut (which I hate)? A mom/baby meetup at my house (5 babies, 5 mommies) to which I had to provide refreshments and snacks (not to mention a semi-clean house)? A resurgence of hot weather? AND a family BBQ??? All while feeling tired and worn out and cranky and depressed and frustrated, and never quite feeling like I got enough sleep the night before.

And it's only Thursday morning.

But today I feel an ever so slight improvement in my mood and in my general well being. And today there is a big empty square on the calendar with NOTHING written in it. I think that little blank space is the most beautiful thing I have seen in a long time and I am going to take full advantage of it and do as little as possible.

It should NEVER take 5 days to recover from any night when I was in bed by midnight. That's just wrong.

Lullaby

Ruby was fighting her morning nap today, so after fussing with her for a while I decided to try to sing her a lullaby to settle her down. I held her close in my arms and rocked her a little and started singing. I couldn't quite remember all the words to any particular song so I was making up rhyming words as I went along. I thought it was working because she was quietly and intently staring up at me.

And then she grabbed the pacifier out of her mouth and shoved it into mine - mid lyric.

Apparently she does not care for my singing.

Either that or she thought that I looked like I could use a nap myself.

Stew

I woke up thinking I would do something domestic today since Ruby has been having some extra long naps these past few days and I have been on top of the housework and even looking for stuff to do. Flipped through some cookbooks and decided to make a yam and beef stew that I've never made before.

Then I went on facebook and looked through my girlfriend's houseboating pictures. All one hundred and something of them. Everyone is super skinny and in bikinis and drinking and carousing with boys and suntanning and swimming and I FUCKING HATE THEM ALL!

And my big thriller for today is making a yam and beef stew?

I walked to the store to get the ingredients for my stew and Ruby whined and cried the whole way. I had to bolt out of the store because she was getting really cranky and I didn't need the attention on me because I hadn't showered yet. Then when I got home I realized that I forgot coriander, so I had a little fit and slammed some cupboards. Steve happened to be home on his lunch break (no point in throwing a fit if nobody is there to see it) and he said to take the car and go grab the damn coriander.

So for a few minutes I was alone in my car and driving and I put the windows down and got the breeze going, and I started to feel a little better. And then Greenday's "Know Your Enemy" came on and the drums in the beggining of the song kinda got me a little sparky so I CRANKED it up and drove a little faster, but then I remembered that I was in a station wagon with a carseat in the back and then I started to cry.

I'm not saying that I'd trade in what I've got right now for anything but... some days I just wish everyone was a chubby housewife/mommy so that I'd have some more self esteem. Or something like that.

Yam and beef stew better be fucking spectacular.

I've met someone new

Let it be known that after 14 months of searching, I have finally found myself a family doctor. Back in June 2008 my family doctor closed his practice to pursue internal medicine and I was left pregnant with nobody to look after me.

Well... not really. I already had a midwife at that point in time and she looked after me for all things pregnancy related and she also cared for Ruby until Ruby was 8 weeks old and then we were discharged from her care.

So we've been without care for almost 8 months now. And up until today Ruby has never seen a doctor. (Except for that time she had her vomiting spell and I freaked out and rushed her to emergency, like the rookie mom that I was/am). To be clear, Ruby has had all her immunizations done by the health nurse at the local health unit. And I did go to that mommy/baby group up until Ruby was 6 months old and there were always nurses around that so if I did have any questions they were able to answer. And luckily Ruby has not really ever had a need to see a doctor.

It is damn hard to find a doctor who is willing to take new patients here. I would know, I've spent 8-14 months looking for one. I called every single doctor in my city asking if they would take new patients and they all said NO. So when I got a lead on a new doctor starting up at my old clinic, I pounced.

I went in to see him yesterday under the guise of having a mole checked out (I was pretty sure the mole was normal), just so I would have an excuse to see him and feel things out to see if he was decent. He seemed decent enough so I mentioned my almost 8 month old daughter who had never been to the doctor... his jaw dropped and I had to clarify that we had a midwife, she's had her shots and she's never had a reason to see a doctor. He said to bring her in and he'd give her a checkup.

So that's what we did this morning. And my new doctor? He rocks. I know it's only been two dates visits but I think I'm in love.

Why?

Well, he did a kickass thorough job of examining Ruby.

But also? He was extremely sensitive and sympathetic when he found out how Ruby was conceived.

He asked if I was going to have any more babies. I said, "Well. We did IVF to have her, so.... I guess if I were ever to come up with $10,000 again, I might try..."

He put down his pen and his face softened and he started asking questions. But not dumb questions. He had educated, intelligent and sympathetic questions.

Oh you might think that educated, intelligent and sympathetic questions should/would be the norm for a physician - but anyone who has battled infertility knows that this is not the standard. Even my previous family doctor - whom I really liked - seemed to have very little knowledge of IF/IVF and it kind of really annoyed me.

But this doctor? He knows about it.

He told me he has friends who did it 3 times and then went to New York where they paid $30,000 for more procedures and still it didn't work for them. He said he feels just terrible for them. He asked if I went to PCRM, which I did. He said that he thinks the doctors there are really great guys. (He knows them??!!) He asked what our diagnosis was and if we tried IUI's first (He knows what an IUI is??!!). When I told him we went straight to IVF/ICSI and that it actually didn't work the first time, he shook his head and said, "Oh my gosh, so it was actually $20,000 then..."

And then he smiled at Ruby and said, "Well, you've got something to really be happy for right there."

It was at that point that I had to consciously stop myself from throwing my arms around him and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips.

He's a keeper.

The Dad Who Cried Wolf

Steve took Ruby into her bedroom to put her down for a nap. A few minutes later...?

Steve: Tara! I need help in here. OhGodOhGodOhGod!. Can you help me with Ruby's diaper???

(I sigh. I hear it all the time.)

Tara: I'm sure you can handle it.

Steve: NO! I can't! It's a bad one. I need help! Please help me!!

(I say nothing and continue to sit at the computer. He hears nothing but the chittering of my keyboard.)

Steve: So you're not going to help me?!?!! You're just going to sit there??!?!?!

Tara: *sigh* No, I'll come help you in a minute.

(I figure if I wait long enough he'll sort it out himself)

Steve: CAN YOU COME NOW PLEASE???!

I finish what I'm doing and head into Ruby's room... where I walk into a shit storm that was, admittedly, definitely a two person clean-up job (a third person would have been nice). Steve was holding out Ruby at arms length (probably had been since he set off the initial alarm) with a look of absolute fear in his eyes. The poor bastard, I can't believe he didn't start crying! It was ugly.

Like, immediate-bed-stripping, fire-up-the-laundry-machine-NOW, and hose-down-the-baby... UGLY.

I felt somewhat guilty for not taking immediate action (poor Ruby) when he initially asked for my assistance, but I hope the boy has come to realize that calls for help while changing a diaper are only to be used in the most dyer of situations (like this one) and not every other time that he is stuck with a simple shitty diaper (like too many times in the past).

Beer

Tonight, Ruby puked in my beer.

I spent a good few minutes staring down at the 3/4 full glass of cold beer, and had to seriously talk myself out of just scooping out the little white curdles and finishing the drink.

My life has changed so much...