sweet child o’mine

June 26, 2015

bab

 i’m officially 12 weeks into this whole motherhood gig.

the baby police have yet to take my little person away from me; although hunkiest and i did catch her the other night putting in a request for a transfer.

our sutton is slowly finding her groove.

her parents?

the jury is still out.

her preferred method of communication is still crying.

she LOVES to cry.

not that i expected sundown, elizabethan poetry recitals, but a taylor swift song, at least to break up the afternoon wailing and the midnight waterloos, would be nice once in a while.

the pediatrician assured me her fondness for gibber and grandstand for pop music will come soon enough.

we had her first shots on monday.

sutton barely winced.

her father and i, on the other hand, cried so hard we both vomited, needed a tight swaddle each for soothing, and were simultaneously breastfed by the nurse.

if it’s true the apple doesn’t fall far from the spin bike than baby girl’s first words will most likely be a profanity-laced casserole of expletives.

we’re taking bets on the following:

motherfucker, goddamnit, cock-sucker, or fuckyoufisherprice.

money is already stowed away for sutton’s future therapy bills, and i’ve cleared my schedule for the parent/teacher conferences coming my way.

while most moms are researching pre-schools and sleep-trainers {the best}, i’m getting her on the “list” for rehabs and military academies.

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i pretty much feel like i’m doing everything wrong….all. of. the. time.

from diapering to bedtime stories, {she’s more US WEEKLY than Vanity Fair,} i fall asleep counting the number of fails of the day rather than sheep.

even my “mommy” nightmares are wrong:

a girlfriend asked me if i was having the “standard,” pre-requisite-to-being-a-good-mother-nightmare:

where you’re dreaming that you’re “rolling over on your baby in bed and smothering her?”

will

um, that would be a “no.”

yes, i am having this re-occurring nightmare

and it IS absolutely terrifying.

we’re talking cold sweats, screams, and a fear of falling asleep at night.

but instead of harming my sweet baby, i dream that i still haven’t been asked to my jr. prom, and all of my friends already have dates.

so we know where MY priorities lie.

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luckily for my own, my husband’s, and my daughter’s sanity, i went back to work last week.

it’s definitely a lighter schedule than i’m used to, but it’s enough so that i’m getting my brain wrapped around things besides sleep schedules and formula ounces.

although i worked out until the day i delivered it was at a much lighter intensity; my workouts feel hard, but SO SO good!

i gained 40lbs with my pregnancy; 17 of which still hasn’t come off.

i used to wear boyfriend jeans. now i wear these-are-why-your-boyfriend-broke-up-with-you jeans.

funny though, for all the crazy body image issues i’ve dealt with in my life, this is the least i’ve cared about how i look, how much i weigh, or how much i’ve worked out for the week.

i’m just so grateful to FEEL good again {after a wretched pregnancy,} and to have a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

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so let’s talk about that girl.

my girl.

my girl with the birthday cake breath.

 yes she likes to cry.

but i, of course, think it’s the prettiest cry in the land, like a choir of forest fairies lullabying the violets and dandelions to sleep for the night.

when she’s overly exhausted, you can hear heartbreak in her cry. it brings me to tears; like when nina simone laments over lost love, or when i discover i’m out of coffee.

no, she doesn’t always sleep through the night.

in fact, she’s sometimes partial to the every 45 minute dance party–especially between the hours of 11pm and 4am.

my under-eye dark circles have become my new, signature “look.”

one day i will miss these middle of the night wake-up calls: that gummy smile, those eyes so bright and sparkly they light up her pitch-black nursery, buckling my knees with a love i’m convinced can solve all of the world’s problems.

forget drones and peace talks……i dare ANYONE to have hate in their heart after a baby looks you square in the eye, and cups your cheek for comfort.

or try being angry when the dead-weight, sack of flour, of a newborn naps in the crook of your neck.

bab

other than this new mammal under our roof, things are pretty much the same.

our beasts still run the show, and we just pay their mortgage; in no way have are they in second place.

i’m still not ready to talk about the “game of thrones” finale so let’s just leave it that.

i wouldn’t take any book recommendations from me for a while—i’m only trying to read books where i don’t have to think, cry, or care about anyone in them—so pretty much kathie lee gifford and i have started our own book club.

my fantasies these days aren’t of white sand beaches or first class to morocco—lately i’d give my left foot for an ativan sandwich and 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

i have NO idea what this season’s summer sandal or IT-bag is…my accesories of late consist of spit-up and my night-guard; anything and EVERYTHING to ensure that i will never get pregnant again.

we are DONE.

one and DONE.

so who sutton looks like?

 she is the carbon copy of me as a baby except without any eyebrows…we’re hoping misha nesselrod will soon come to her rescue.

although, if you ask my mother, she says {and i quote} “sutton looks like axl rose after he gained all of that weight.

?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!

so there you have it.

axl

according to my mother folks, that’s my baby ⬆︎.

and yes, grandma {aka “gigi”} is no longer babysitting for us.

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so as i wrap up this post, over the internet and television, breaking news is coming in that the united states supreme court has made the landmark ruling to provide same-sex couples with the right to marry in all 50 states.

i hope my computer doesn’t short out from the tears flooding down my face into my keyboard.

this is not hormonal emotion, this is human elation.

long overdue, but a welcome decision—it’s still hard to wrap my brain around the fact that people who love each other need the government’s permission…but that’s another post…

i am euphoric for my friends, my family, my daughter, and my fellow americans, gay and straight.

we have taken a supreme court step towards a more tolerant and loving society.

this is a great day.

friday-equality-for-all-to you m’loves!

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  • This post was my favorite yet. Katie, I am just so damn happy for you and Sutton (and the beasts who still rule.) Glad to hear you’re feeling better and embracing the craziness. Thinking of you guys often – xo.

    • oh sweet ari!! thank you…we are beyond elated…the craziness is abundant but so is the joy…love you dearest.

  • I teared up reading this post. You have such an exquisite way with words, Katie. I was feeling all your ups and down so hard! I don’t even have a good comment on any one thing, except that even though we’ve never met, it felt like we were old friends catching up on life. Hope the stressful things start turning around and the good times keep rolling! 🙂

    • we are old friends!!!! and i hope we do meet in person some day!!! believe me the good times outweigh any stress….love to you!!

  • Victoria Campbell

    This post read like a juicey novel Katie. I love that you allow us to meet this fancinating, hilarious, gorgeous person in your head. We need to thank Sutton for allowing Mama to come back to class! XOXO

    • aw..thank you vic…i can’t wait to introduce the two of you…i’m more excited to see you in class…love to you friend.

  • AuntievChar

    Your ‘sweet child’ has not an ounce of Axl…or Slash for that matter. She looks like Sutton….with s dash of Daddy….a major cup of Mommy…and a pinch of puppy. The crying will cease…the sleep will increase….and you so miss the purity and gentleness of your newborn. Enjoy each magically whiff that that baby smell.

    • i think sutton is getting more and more priscilla as the days go by…i’m already missing those precious, sweet early days..sleep is getting longer…but she’s getting older…{sniff, sniff.}

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