I'm Almost Back

Have you missed me? Somehow things like blogging--and eating and sleeping--don't seem to rank as a high priority right now. However, Adam has set up a laptop with wireless for me, so maybe I can quickly blog between feedings. Although considering that I started this blog entry a full day ago and it has yet to be posted, maybe I'm being a tad optimistic. Things have been a daze, although I survived the bris, which I had my doubts about. Doodlebug came through it with flying colors, as was to be expected. We had twenty people over, and I think some of them were traumatized for life. Before the bris, Adam said to me, "I've seen you awfully anxious before, but never anything like this." Of course! They wanted to hurt my baby! I kept whispering to Doodlebug, "All you have to do is say the word and I'll whisk you off to Paris and we won't tell anyone we're Jewish!" but he said nothing. After the bris, I told Adam that I realized why babies are circumcised when they're just a few days old; had Doodlebug been old enough to talk, I would have been promising him anything he asked for: "You want to go to space camp? You got it! A new Playstation? Absolutely! You need your own pony? What shall we name him?" The onesie in the picture came from the Tweedle Twirp's boyfriend (if you can't read it, it says, "I had a ritual circumcision and all they gave me was this lousy onesie"). He gave us a whole bunch of adorable onesies, although my favorite is the one that reads, "I (heart) my emotionally detached common-law uncle." (He and the Tweedle Twirp are indeed common law--together twelve years and living together for seven; she lives a party-girl life, but in a very stable kind of way).

Other random notes from the past week and a half:

• The hospital was a complete blur and even though I wasn't heavily medicated (I gave up the Percocet early--it just wasn't doing it for me), I was certainly not with it. Case in point: Adam would go home during the day to take care of things and take a shower there. But on the last day, he showered in our hospital room. After his shower, he said, "Did you realize that you actually didn't bring any shampoo with you? You have two bottles of conditioners in there." Um, no, I hadn't noticed, and I'd taken four showers. But I had noticed that my hair was remarkably shiny and full.
  
• After the first day in the hospital, Adam and I kept falling into the trap of saying "But he never..." "He always..." (as in "He's never fussed like this before!") until the other would point out that twenty-four hours hardly constituted an "always" or a "never."
  
• The hospital has an online nursery that is just filled with pictures of ugly babies. And no wonder! The photographer comes to your room, puts your baby on a hard curved table, expects the baby to stay upright, shines a light on his nose (for placement), and then shoots! What baby could possibly take a good picture like that? And the compound that with the fact that 75 percent of those kids were born vaginally, which means their heads are most likely still misshapen. It's a cruel thing to do to a child.
  
• Doodlebug has a darling trick that we call P.O.D., pee on daddy. Today there was a minor modification that was less amusing, P.O.M., but he's so innocent looking as he lets loose all over me, the changing table, the nursery that we can't help but laugh. Of course, it also necessitated his second sponge bath.
  
• Surprisingly, I haven't yet had a drink. I was told that having a glass of wine or a beer while breastfeeding is fine, but oddly enough, I've had no desire to imbibe. So that just goes to show all those who thought I'd be wheeled out of surgery and asking for my martini!
  
• I thought I'd have a really hard time not calling Doodlebug, Brown Brown. And for the first couple of days, it was a struggle. However, he's acquired so many other nicknames (Doodlebug, Squeaker, the monkey), that Brown Brown has really fallen to the wayside. Although, I keep telling him, his name may be Medros, but really, he'll always be a Brown.
  
• I'm dreaming of nonmaternity clothes. I have no idea when I'll be able to move back into my regular clothes, but I can tell you now, it will be nowhere in the near future.

Oh, look at that. It's time for the twelfth feeding of the day. My time goes quickly when you're a human milk machine. One of these days I'll post again. I hope....