Babies are amazing, wondrous, magical beings who will make your heart explode with joy.

That is all. 

Note to Self

Keep bags of trail mix strategically strewn about the house. You never know when the baby will fall asleep in your arms. And remember, just as rock beats scissor, a sleeping baby beats mommy's empty stomach. (Sleeping baby also beats bladder - until bladder enters the "possibly causing irrevocable damage to kidneys" zone). 

On the plus side, my stomach's rumblings are probably helping the baby sink into a delightfully deep sleep. 

On the plus-sized side, if I keep forgetting to replenish my trail mix supplies, I will lose the baby weight that much faster. 

New shoe anxiety

I don't know how many pairs of shoes I have tried on in my life time, but the number is easily in the hundreds if not thousands. Well, I hope the number is not in the thousands! That is an awful lot of time to spend trying on different pairs of shoes. 

I am currently living in shoe limbo. Like most pregnant women, my feet got bigger while I was incubating my little darling. By the end of the pregnancy, I was living in flip-flops and my Crocs clogs. I understand that for some women the increase in shoe size is permanent, but other women go back to their old shoe size about six months after delivering their bundle of joy. So right now I am stuck! I need new shoes, but I don't want to spend a lot of money on new shoes if I'm going to be able to wear my old shoes again. Fortunately, the baby and I spend most of our days hibernating at home; I don't think the dirty laundry and dishes are critiquing my footwear. (And Nathan would only notice my shoes if they were on fire). 

But even if I won't be strolling the streets of Manhattan or Paris anytime soon, I still need new shoes! I've started taking baby girl on a walk almost every morning, but my old walking shoes are a bit too snug for my post-pregnancy feet. They make my feet hurt like hell, and that's the last thing a new mother needs.

So I ordered these bad boys from Amazon:

I love them! Green is my favorite color, and the green of these shoes is my absolute favorite shade of green. 

But. 

I can't tell if the shoes fit right. They might be just a smidge too tight for the toes. But I know if I go up a size, they will be way too big. This is where my new shoe anxiety sets in. Will the shoes stretch as I wear them? Maybe the shoes fit perfectly, and a week from now they will be molded perfectly to my feet. Or, maybe the shoes will not stretch enough, and I will have wasted 60 bucks on a pair shoes that do not fit. Oh, the inhumanity!

This really shouldn't be such a dilemma. After all, I have tried on countless pairs of shoes. With my experience, I should know instinctively whether or not the shoes will stretch to fit. But no, like every other pair of shoes I've tried on before, I am going to agonize and fret over whether the shoes work or not for my feet. And if I decide to keep the shoes, I will secretly doubt myself and worry I kept an uncomfortable pair of shoes just because I thought they were cute. In other words, time that could be used productively doing, oh, anything else will be squandered on these pedestrian concerns. Damn my new shoe anxiety!
 

Father's Day

This June, Nathan celebrates his first Father's Day as Pippa's dad - woot woot! I asked Pippa what she wanted to buy Daddy, but she just cooed and then tried to eat her hand. I guess it's up to me to figure out the perfect gift to celebrate Nathan's first year of fatherhood. 

I am looking for something that says "thank you for being such an amazing father to our beautiful baby girl. And thank you for being such a supportive husband as I figure out this whole mommy thing. Thank you for telling me I am beautiful even when I am wearing sweatpants and a formless t-shirt that is covered with spit-up stains. Thank you for soothing Pippa to sleep - you really are magical. And thank you for cutting up my chicken when I'm nursing and famished. You are a freaking rock star of a dad!"

Somehow, I don't think the "world's best dad" will adequately convey this message. Especially since Nathan hates coffee and Diet Coke in a mug is just wrong. 

If I had unlimited resources, I would buy Nathan the following presents for Father's Day:

• a bad ass car, like something James Bond would drive, ejector seat included. 

• a mansion on Maui with a private beach 

• an orangutan 

• a spaceship (red, of course), and last but not least, 

• the St. Louis Cardinals 

Since I can't afford any of these things, I will have to keep brainstorming. But with God as my witness, I will NOT buy him a tie or new socks!

p.s. where does one buy an orangutan? The ones at the zoo are not for sale and the pet store does not have a primate section. Is there a monkey black market ?? 

An Open Letter to My House Plants

Dear House Plants,

I am sorry that I killed you. Well, "kill" is a bit too strong of a word, don't you think? That makes it sound like I intentionally poisoned you or threw you into a river or buried you alive. Let's try to maintain some perspective. I didn't throw you into a pit of starving vegans! I just forgot to water you. Let me start over. 

Dear House Plants, 

I'm sorry I neglected you. I realize my neglect led to your untimely deaths but give me a break, I had a baby. Did you know babies are a ton of work? True, my baby is the cutest, sweetest thing in the world but she also generates more laundry than a college football team.  Did you really think I would have time to coddle your chloroform asses? That I would haul your lazy terra-cotta pots to the kitchen sink when I could be cuddling my precious angel? Let me start over. 

Dear House Plants,

WTF? Yeah, I forgot to water you for two months but so freaking what? I could understand a few brown leaves and some strategic wilting to get my attention, but don't you think dying was a bit melodramatic? Talk about cutting the nose to spite the face. It's not like I have the power to bring back the dead! Stupid house plants, I hope you enjoy the landfill. Excuse me, I have to shower my baby with kisses. And when she is a little older, we will buy some better house plants. I never liked your ugly smelly leaves anyway!

With scorn and derision, 

Courtney 

Motherhood Haiku No. 1

Beautiful baby, 

Slumbering on me. 

Crap! I have to pee. 

Why Hello There

Pardon my blogging absence, but Baby Girl arrived before her due date (well done, Sweet Pea!) and I've been too busy cuddling her to even think about blogging. Her name is Pippa and she is the most wonderful baby in the world. I know most parents think this about their child, but here is the difference between me and most parents: I'm right, they are wrong. Pippa is the best baby ever, end of discussion. Nathan and I are madly in love with her. We would not change a single atom or particle that makes up her precious existence. You know how people often refer to little girls as "princesses"? Well, we call her our Queen, because she is now the ruler of our hearts and we would do absolutely anything to keep her safe and happy.

I suppose this is the part where I'm supposed to post a dozen photos of my gorgeous, magnificent, glorious daughter so you can post comments about how cute she is... except I'm not going to do that. I'm not exactly certain how this blog fits into my life now that Pippa is here, but I do know that I want to protect Pippa's privacy and online identity. Although I read, enjoy and respect several "mommy blogs," I am not comfortable sharing photos of my daughter with the entire world. Hell, I'm not even comfortable posting her photos on Facebook! I will instead be sharing Pippa photos privately with friends and family.

Incidentally, if you fall into the category of "friends and family" and you do not receive any Pippa photos in the next few days month and you'd like to drool over her Royal Cuteness, shoot me or Nathan an email and I'll make sure you get some photos. My goal is to share photos from her first month by the end of this week... but ha, I'll be happy if I share the photos by Memorial Day! And if you don't know how to get in touch with me or Nathan, then you probably do not qualify as "friends or family." Sorry, Random Dude in Brazil, but you don't get to admire photos of my sweet baby girl.

On a completely different note, I'm happy to report that I've been able to shower every day since Nathan returned to work. This feels like a major accomplishment. I was convinced Pippa would wail whenever I tried to bathe, and I'd be reduced to a furtive weekly bath, but the sound of the shower lulls my Sweet Pea to sleep. I just bring her into the bathroom in her car seat and she naps while I wash away the baby spit-up. Of course, once I turn the shower water off, then I have a two-five minute window to dry off and retrieve my sweet baby girl from her car seat before she hits the panic button and starts to scream as if the world is coming to an end. But while the shower water is running, she is happy to sleep, sleep, sleep.

So I have a confession. Sometimes I bring Pippa to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and then run around and tidy up the house for five minutes while gallons of unused water go down the drain. I'm 99.99% confident that Al Gore would not approve of this strategy, but I highly doubt Al Gore ever breastfed a newborn. If Mr. Gore ever breastfeeds a baby, then we can discuss my blatantly shameful waste of water.