Long time, no blog.
It's a shame that I don't have a computer, because I wish I were better documenting these times. I've written Kenny a few letters for the baby book. But that's for him, not for me.

Things are good. Last Wednesday we had our first baby play date with Corrie's (Tiger) and Lisa's (Desi). It was interesting to be around some other Hipster Mom's. It was a pleasure to have two other gals in the room, whipping out their boobs to feed their babes, and it was fun to talk to them about current baby and mom progress.

He's two months old. Which is wild to think about. They sure don't stay little for long. Lately he's been smiling alllllll the time, oohing and aahing, and sleeping for 6-7 hours a row at night. (God Bless Him). And the most recent mindblower was watching him push himself up from the belly position with his arms. Homeboy's advanced.

I'm enjoying "having-a-son-hood". Although I still don't look in the mirror and see a "mom", I definitely look at Kenny and know that he's mine.

Andrew is a world class Dad. He's just enamored with our baby and it's pretty amazing to watch. Right now he's curled up with the baby on my mom's couch. Pretty Heart-Warming. Whodathunkit?

And to the nursing and ex-nursing moms who might read this. Question: I'm dealing with a gassy little guy. He has (very painful seeming) gas. I was just recommended Chamomile Tea from my brother-in-law's mom, and I'm feeling edgy. I have a good feeling about it, I prefer that idea to over-the-counter gas drops. And Rosa's very good with home-remedies, so I trust her more than Walgreens. It's just that feeling of: "I have only given this baby breast milk so far....and I just want to make sure it's alright."

So that's today's dilemma.

I am also getting the itch to work. I miss having "Me Time", and I have a strong urge to be in public, talking to strangers again. Hopefully I can mentally withstand being an at-home-mom until July, when Robin is opening another coffee shop (with a full bar!) in Crossroads. We'll just have to see.

And here he is....if I can learn how to post pictures.

 

 

 

Where to start....
Well, I had a baby.

Two weeks ago. December 2nd at 3:16AM. 7lbs 6oz. He went pretty easy on me as far as the labor story goes and when he arrived he was perfect. He latched on for a 40 minute feed within the first hour after his birth, and he's been eating, sleeping, and pooping like a champ ever since.

The whole process was just too big to try and describe, but I will say this. You spend all this time being told that you don't even know what love is until you have a child, and that there's this huge rush of emotion, and change of perspective...and I'm not saying that's not true. But for me, the moment I met him was the farthest thing from a rush of emotions that I can imagine. I just felt really comfortable, and really normal and I can't really remember what it was like before he was here.

It was just sort of like...Hey Man, thanks for coming.

He's a wonderful baby, and a huge joy to Andrew and myself and right now we're at my mom's and he's sleeping on his Uncle Carlos' chest like a damn angel.

Life's pretty good.

Ode to my neglected out of town friends....
Becky.
Laura B.
Nick Ryan.

It's been wayyyy too long.

But I can explain!

In my new house, I don't get cell phone service about 50 percent of the time. I'm also scared to go over minutes, because my motherish-in-lawish will pay the overage charges without telling me and that drives me nuts. She is incredibly thoughtful and kind to the point where I have to tell her to stop. (She asked me what preference I had for lightbulb wattage and was really distressed once because in my ceiling fan, there were no more frosted bulbs, so clear ones had to go in there with frosted ones. Lady...you're a sweatheart. Know this...I will never ever notice. My question to you peers is this....

have you ever given a thought to lightbulb wattage?)

Anypoop, Here's an update....and I intend to call all of you this week. But Nick, I'm gonna need your number again, unless your cell phone is back on.

I'm due next Friday. And that's weird. This whole thing has flown by, and maybe because I've kept very busy...but I don't know.

So due November 24th...but I feel like I might go longer. The baby's head has dropped and he weighs about 6-7 lbs (which is good!) but I'm not dilated at all. A month ago, I was uncomfortable and sore, because he was resting on a very touchy nerve and I was in a lot of pain. Now that his head has dropped, I'm quite comfortable and I have tons of energy and I get a lot done.

I'm in no rush to have the baby, but I feel as ready as I'll ever feel, and pretty relaxed about the whole thing. So when it happens, it will happen, and you will be contacted ASAP.

Andrew's mom gave me her car. It's a 98 Subaru. On Tuesdays and Thursdays Andrew works late, so I pick up my mom from work, and we eat dinner together and I watch cable and sit on the Internerd. Tonight, Dad sprung for Chinese. I enjoy the car-time with my mom the most.

Day-to-day, I do this housewife thing for the time being, and I'm pretty good at it, but mostly because I'm used to working full-time, so sitting around all fucking day would make me crazy.

I wake up early, I cook two decent meals a day. I feed my boyfriend those two meals. Then I spend the day with the cat, and Percy. And I clean and paint and do laundry and write letters to my grandma. When Andrew gets home, we eat dinner, watch Seinfeld and King of The Hill and then we usually read library books on different couches for an hour or so.

Sometimes I make milkshakes in my blender, sometimes he has beers and makes me listen to records. He's old, so there are some good eras that I missed, that he caught. I can school him on The Band, Old Soul, and anything current and not local (minus the trivia...about which I still don't care). I like almost everything he plays but I wish he didn't revel in the personal lives of arrogant, train-wreck rock stars. The more I know about how full of shit everyone gets when they're famous, the less I can enjoy their music.

This rings especially true for John Lennon, though I would never tell Andrew that, because it would make him sad that I felt that way. Seriously though....There's nothing worse than a talented man's ego. Feel blessed by your talents, not empowered and driven to windbaggy guru-ness.

I go to bed late, I wake up early. I pee 10-15 times during the already short bedtime and every single time, it makes me really happy to walk through my kitchen to the bathroom. The kitchen in this house is amazing.

Percy and the cat are learning to live with each other. Though everytime I call Percy a good girl, I can tell she's thinking "When will you consider me good enough to let me eat that cat in there?"

Although I would never tell Andrew that either.

Inquiring minds have left messages about my address. And I have something to mail to Laura Braun and I need her address to do so.

Here's my address and goodnight.

Kelly Ann Allen
614 Northrup
Kansas City, KS 66101

Nesting like a Mo-Fo.....
Well, still no baby.

It's almost scary how relaxed I feel lately about this whole thing. Tonight, my mom had to remind me that I'm due next week, because I kept saying, "I mean...in a few weeks...." in regards to the baby.

I feel lucky, I know a lot of people who were really uncomfortable at this point in pregnancy, and counting the minutes. My sister was usually sneaking tablespoons of caster oil, trying ot induce labor by now. I feel fine. Yesterday I painted my bathroom. Green.

 

Last night I went to Regina Spektor with Peggy and it was nice, though I'm really conversationally lazy. I hate talking to people. Andrew went out too, had some drinks with Bill Cave at the Stagecoach. I wound up having contractions during the whole Regina Spektor set, and I kept thinking..."Hmmmm. These contractions are about two minutes apart, I wonder if I should do something soon....." But somehow I just knew it wasn't anything. So I stayed for most of the encore, drove Peggy home, got some milk, (the expiration date was my due date. This baby's occupation of my womb has the same shelf life as my milk) made some macaroni and waited for Andrew to come home.

He rushed home when I told him I'd been having contractions...even though I stressed that nothing was gonna happen last night. And when he got home, he thought it was really really clever to blast the Jeff Buckley version of "I Shall Be Released" while I was trying to read. Dork.

This morning we slept in late, much to Percy Dog's dismay and when we woke up we made a 5-star breakfast (Weekend Breakfast on Tuesday) and I saw him off to work. It still feels weird not to work, but I'm keeping extremely busy with this house. That feels even more foreign and weird. It will be a damn shame when this nesting thing goes away...I'm the most productive woman in the world.

The conclusion is, I like my life right now. I know it's about to drastically change and all. But I get the feeling that I've laid a really good foundation to deal with the things coming up. And now, my mom and I are going to the library.