Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Hafley and Doozey Save the Day

First of all, I'm officially sleep deprived.

Apparently, that was also the case a few days ago, when I titled the post "16 days," in an attempt to refer to the length of my newest daughter's time on this planet, thus far. She was, in fact, 9 days old. What in the world? I have no idea. Time has no meaning for me.

So anyhoo, sleep deprivation. It breaks you down. It makes you crazy. It brings out the worst in you. So, I'm pretending to be a superhero. Meredith wanted to play superheroes this morning (superheroines?) and she said her superhero name was Hafley and mine was Doozey. I figure a superhero would probably do a better job than I of dealing with M&M, so I gladly donned my new name and figurative cape. Later in the day, I kept referring to Mer as Hafley, and trying to get her to call me Doozey. She said, "Mom, we're done playing superheroes."

I'm not. Call me Doozey.

Monday, April 20, 2009

16 Days

So here's what's in my brain, 16 days into life with Madeline Jane.

Madeline (Chris' first choice from the moment we knew it was a girl, Chris’ great grandmother's name), Jane (my great grandmother's middle name—be glad we didn’t go with her first name: Albertha). We weren’t trying for the same initials as Meredith; it’s not as if there’s a wardrobe full of hand-me-down monogrammed clothing. But it’s kind of fun.

Meredith still votes that Madeline’s “nickname” should be the other name that was in the running—Matilda. And no comments from the peanut gallery about how you’re so glad we chose Madeline. I’m not planning on having another one at this point, but if we did, she’d probably be called Matilda. And for now, Meredith is still calling this one Matilda every now and again.

So I’m 8cm dilated and finally getting the epidural. Contractions are about 2 minutes 30 seconds apart…not exactly a big enough window for the anesthesiologist to work her magic. So along comes a giant contraction and I’m told to “breathe through it and not move at all.” For the rest of my life I will call upon that moment anytime I think I can’t do something, or that I’m not strong enough. Breath through it. Don’t move. Are you kidding me? Good Lord.

Sweet tea and Fried Chicken Cobb Salad. All in the complete absence of heartburn. Thank you, dear husband, for the food. And thank you God that the heartburn is gone.

Her jaw must be double jointed--her yawns are as big as as her head. Simple sounds cause her to react as if she's heard a gunshot: the crinkling of a bag of Fritos, for instance. Her faces are endlessly amusing, and often appear to be mocking me: "Sure lady, try and feed me again...that went well last time."...or "A fresh diaper, good idea...but I would wait if I were you..." or...."I promise, I'm totally done spitting up now. Really. This is my honest face."

A switch has flipped in Meredith’s brain. Anyone who has read this blog at all has probably picked up on my firstborn’s inability to play on her own. She has simply been too social a creature to venture off into solo imaginings and activities. Now, suddenly, she is playing on her own. A lot. And very happily—it’s not in the least pitiful. I guess, in a way, she was right all along. Before, there really wasn’t a reason we shouldn’t play with her (that she could fathom). Now, she understands that there’s a valid reason that we can’t. Whatever the psychology, I’m happy for her, cause she’s having fun. And I’m super happy for me, cause this will simplify life.

The Memphis Farmer’s Market opening day on Saturday the 18th. She was a champ. We saw pretty flowers, lots of friends, and I ate a chocolate donut. It was the perfect 30 minute outing.

More soon. We gotta get some more days under our belt!

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Picture Day

Yesterday was Mer's picture day at school. The past two years, the pictures have been so hilariously bad that I almost bought them just so we could share the humor. Almost. Anyway, this year we decided to take a few on our own, just in case. And of course, we might as well take one of Madeline, cause it is refreshingly easy to take a picture of a practically immobile infant.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Madeline Jane Lareau

So, Kate is sitting next to me.  Resting peacefully.  Holding her new daughter. Madeline Jane Lareau.  Get it.  Kind of similar to Meredith Jubilee Lareau. Only Madeline isn't going to have her own blog.  She'll share Meredith's.  Kate probably has a different take, but from my perspective it was a fairly easy labor, at least as compared to the fourteen hour debacle that was Meredith Jubilee.  In the hospital at ten a.m.  Baby at 1:36.  Three pushes and there she was.  Seven pounds; twelve ounces; ten fingers; ten toes; many inches long by few inches wide; good bit of dark hair.  I think that will about cover things until your regularly scheduled poster returns.  The only other thing you need to know is that Madeline justed edged out Matilda and Pippi Azalea.  Alright Kate was never considering Pippi Azela, but some of us were.  The photos:

Moments into reality.

Showing her true colors at about one hour into life.  Gunner til I die.

Few quiet moments.

Meeting big sister.

Meredith's mouth and nose.

Mom, there's the hair picture you wanted. 

Monday, April 06, 2009

First Joke

Mer: I know the funniest joke.
Chris: Really? Tell me.
Mer: Why did the chicken cross the slide?
Chris: I don't know. Why?
Mer: I don't know EITHER! (Hysterical laughter).
Mer: (Hysterical laughter continues) That knocks me out! (More laughter).

We laughed so hard at this that we've probably hopelessly stunted her sense of comedy and comedic timing.