Besties with my OB
I had my six week checkup today. You know what was fun? When the nurse was taking down all my information and she asked, "Who delivered your baby?" and I said, "Uh... no one?" and she was all, "HUH?" and I said, "The nurse? Sort of?" and she said, "No, what doctor?" and I said, "THERE WAS NO DOCTOR!" That was fun.
And then I spent a whole afternoon wondering how weird it would be, exactly, to invite my OB to my Christmas party. I thought it might be weird if I asked her THEN, while I was wearing what amounted to a piece of paper. But it didn't seem to bother HER and she stuck around talking to me long after business had concluded so I don't know, maybe she wants to be friends too? AUGH THIS IS SO DORKY. I thought about emailing my old neighbor, who is 1) an OB and 2) a friend and seeing how weird it would be, but she KNOWS my OB and that just added a whole other element of weirdness. AGAIN WITH THE DORKY!
Baby News: I've decided Emma is not refluxy so much as gassy. Yes, me and Dr. Google decided this. Maybe she does have a little reflux, but Phillip and I are both in agreement that what's causing most of her discomfort is lots and lots and lots of stinky gas. I am now stocked up with Mylicon drops and gripe water and I'm going off cheese and milk and my beloved instant pudding (sugar-free instant pudding is how I survive the barren chocolate-free wasteland of a low carb diet) in hopes of decreasing the evil bubbles. Arwen sent me a link to some probiotic stuff and the nurse today talked about massage and SOMETHING WILL WORK. I didn't give her the Zantac this morning because 1) my super duper mommy instincts tell me this isn't really a reflux issue and 2) she positively hates it (I can't BELIEVE they make it MINTY).
Right now she's asleep. On her side, in my bed, covered with a blanket - pretty much all the things they tell you not to do. She's getting so big - 9.5 pounds at her reflux appointment - and she just LOOKS different and I am trying SO HARD to get the most out of this tiny baby stage. Remember Phillip doesn't want to do this again, so I really want to remember all of it. Every time I pick her up I have this fear that she won't tuck her legs up and stretch out with her arms and point her chin in the air and make that closed-eyes-milk-drunk-grimace I love so much, because when she stops doing those things she will officially not be A Tiny Baby anymore and my heart will break into a zillion pieces.
I took her with me to the doctor while the FPC watched the big kids. Remember the FPC? She's still PCing and has so many crazy cake stories you sort of stop believing that they're real. There just CAN'T be so many wackadoos ordering cakes. AND YET THERE ARE. Which is why the FPC and I are going to start a new blog (yes! another one!) and we're going to call it Cake Freaks or something like that and it's going to be ANONYMOUS and SNEAKY and all about the wackadoos who order cake. And possibly the people who run the cake shops. I'm just saying. IT COULD BE INTERESTING.
Of course... I'm feeling a bit busy these days. But it sounds like a fun little side project. I would totally read that blog. Dude, the wackadoo she told me about today? TAKES THE CAKE. PUN TOTALLY INTENDED. I told the FPC that I would even take dictation over the phone. That is how committed I am to the cake blog. Of course, the FPC wants to monetize it, so that she no longer has to deal with cake wackadoos. I told her she might need to think of a plan B.
Why am I not sleeping while the baby sleeps? Oh right. It's called TWO PRESCHOOLERS and IN DIRE NEED OF DOWN TIME.