Growing a Pumpkin Patch is Hard Work.

Fake it 'till you make it

I first heard the saying "fake it 'till you make it" a few years back.  Apparently, it's a mantra that's used in AA; I like it because it aptly describes the approach I take when I feel like I'm in a little bit over my head.  Have you ever found yourself in say, a meeting, and as everyone goes around the room discussing the whatnot and the soforth of some big issue, it dawns on you that you have, at best, a rudimentary understanding of what they're discussing?  And then it's your turn to talk?  Fake it 'till you make it! 

"Fake it 'till you make it" is a philosophy that has served me well in my professional life.  And now, I'm finding ways to apply it to motherhood.  Specifically, to my personal hygiene.

You say you're a harried new mother and you don't have time to properly shower and wash your hair?  Well, you just get yourself some deodorant and some hair powder and sister, you are well on your way to faking it 'till you make it...

...to the shower.  And lord only knows when that will happen.

Get this man a beer!

Last night, Adam took his first trip to a bar.  Not just any bar, either - we went to Manuel's Tavern, an Atlanta institution and a bonafide pinko commie stronghold well-known hangout for Democrats like Jimmy Carter.

I would have taken a picture, but Adam's father would be happy know that before I could pose my child in front of the bar's GIANT portrait of JFK, he screamed - SCREAMED - bloody murder, so we left for home immediately.

*Now, before you call DFCS on me, let me just say that Manuel's isn't just a bar, it's a restaurant, too, and I was there for a Junior League meeting**.  The Ma1oof's are very nice people and they're kind to babies, as are all the bar's patrons - I even worked for a Ma1oof when I was in college***, and I spent my share of time at Manuel's when I lived in Virginia-Highland. 

**And before you ask, "What in hell kind of Junior League are they running down there in Atlant@?" please note that I'm on the League's P0litical Affa1rs committee, and we thought that since the Legislature is in session and Manuel's is a hangout for lawmakers during session, it would be an appropriate place to meet.

***Finally, OH MY GOD, they're having a spelling bee at Manuel's in February.  I AM SO THERE.

All at Once

So, you know how all at one time, the baby will start a growth spurt, poop, the dog will continue trying to get into the Diaper Champ, and you'll be damned if he's just about figured it out, and you're not sure if he'll use this new power for good or for evil, and you decide that this would be a GREAT time to change the sheet on the crib since you and your husband started having the baby sleep in his crib in the nursery last night, not through some grand design but out of simple necessity, as when Chris was changing his diaper at 11 last night, the baby peed all over the Pack N' Play and you weren't about to wash and dry the Pack N' Play sheets at 11 at night just so the baby could sleep in your room when he has a perfectly good crib no more than 10 steps down the hall, but then today you felt like a Terrible Mother because the crib sheet had a couple of spit-up stains on it so gosh, it would be a great idea to change that sheet RIGHT NOW, IN THE MIDDLE OF A GROWTH SPURT.

So you change the sheet and the dog is attacking the Diaper Champ and you hope that you can change the sheet without removing the crib bumper, but after ten minutes of struggling, you realize that yes, you need to remove the bumpers, and also the bunny that's hanging from one corner of the crib, and THEN the crib sheet splits and tears and you're pissed because it's a nice sheet from a reputable catalog, but at that point, the sheet is pretty much on the bed and the tear isn't THAT big, so you leave the torn sheet on the mattress.  Because you are a Terrible Mother. 

And THEN, right at that moment, you'll look over at your child who is camped out on the play mat and you realize that, my god, your obviously extremely advanced genius baby is actually swatting at his windchimes his own self, and your heart melts.

Just a quick update...

...between feedings.  I find that my life is now scheduled in two-hour increments between feedings (the feeding itself takes an hour when you include the feedings, the burping, and the pre and post-feeding prep), but that's okay, as he's eating well and I am producing "beau coup milk," according to Teresa the Amazing Lactation Specialist.

Here's a photo (there are many more photos to come, including of his Actual Birth, but I haven't uploaded any from my camera yet - maybe between the next feeding...), and here are the stats:

Adam Scu1ly Anu1ewicz

December 8, 2004

4: 51 PM

7 pounds, 13 ounces

20.5 inches

He looks EXACTLY like his father.

There is much more to tell, and I'll get to it in the near future, but in the meantime, know that we are happy, healthy, pooping in abundance, and after five nights in the hospital, including two in the NICU for Adam, we are all thrilled to be back home.