Last week, it happened again. Days went by, and I didn’t know which one we were on any more. And while that Grover video made me laugh the first time I saw it, that monster’s mug has been on top of my site for so long now that I’ve begun fantasizing about punching that little bastard’s blue lights… Read more →
Category: Future Therapy Bills
Breastfeeding Sucks.
We never had a problem getting her to latch. There was never an issue with supply. The girl has been crazy for boobie since I squeezed her out my lady bits, and I’ve hated {almost} every second of it. Not at first. When she was first born and they handed her to me and she started rooting I wanted to… Read more →
I carried a watermelon.
Me and this blog have been having a bit of a stand-off lately. (And by lately, I mean for going on about eleven months now.) It has a lot to do with the postpartum depression I haven’t really talked about, and the crippling, silencing shame I felt while lost in that abyss, but the way it’s manifested is totally weird… Read more →
I laugh in the face of sleep.
Dearest Dee – I know it was daylight savings time and all, but last night’s encore performance of “The Girl Who Hated Sleep” was truly your best ever. From your 7:30pm sleepy-time fake-out (you really had me going there) to your 8pm roll-into-the-crib-rails-and-wail, the hits just kept on coming. By 4am, and your 27th wake-up of the evening, I was… Read more →
“The Husband Stitch”
Well, Hello. Today I’m guest blogging over at the illustrious Heir to Blair. Don’t know Blair? (SNORT. OF COURSE YOU DO.) She’s a lovely Southern gal with a taste for profanity, who’s a dynamo in both the kitchen and the sack, so y’know, your basic nightmare. (Okay, so I’m speculating about the sack part…and the kitchen part too, since she… Read more →
I *may* be seriously deranged.
The Holidays were rough on Dee. It’s not easy being the adorable new baby at family functions – everyone wants to cuddle you, and love you, and that can be really exhausting, y’know? Christmas brought our first MAJOR meltdown, and New Years served to further overstimulate our little social butterfly. My once snoozy easy baby has realized that the waking… Read more →