Paid my dues and joined the club

Monday afternoon the munchkin and I went to the pharmacy. After shopping, I opened the driver side rear door, tossed my keys into the front seat, and strapped in the kiddo. I shut the door and went to open mine, but it wouldn't open. I tried to re-open the back door to no avail. That's right...I locked my 13-month-old in the car with the keys in my seat.

I reached into my purse for my cell when I realized that it, too, was in the car in the cup holder. I frantically glanced around for a pay phone, and there was one close but not close enough for me to walk away from my trapped child. A lady walked by at that point, and she let me use her phone. I couldn't, however, get the hubs to answer his phone (I later found out he was in Home Depot). The lady suggested I call 911, so I did. I didn't cry until the operator answered the phone. The munchkin soon followed.

As soon as I got off the phone with the operator, I called the hubs again, and he answered. He told me he was by the mall, which isn't far but was TOO far at that very moment. I told the lady she didn't have to stay, but she reminded me that 911 had her phone number, and she also told me she has two grandkids and would want someone to help them. Very sweet. I couldn't thank her enough for staying.

The 911 operator called back to check on us (munchkin was pretty upset by now), and I told her the hubs was on the way and that she could cancel the dispatch. She did but told me to call right back if anything changed. The hubs called back after that to tell me, "DO NOT let the police bust your car window." Ok, whatever. I told sweet lady to go ahead and leave, so she did. About 15 seconds later, a canine unit pulls up (I can only assume he was closest and came even though the call was canceled). Another two minutes later, a second trooper pulls up. Both guys were so sweet and talked to the munchkin through the glass (who was still VERY upset). When they asked me if I was ok, all I could say was, "This kind of shit happens on TV." They reassured me that it happens in reality all the time.

Ten minutes later I hear my doors unlock, glance into the street to see the hubs about to pull into the parking lot, and pulled the munchkin out. She had calmed down some at this point and was doing that sniffle-and-gasp-for-air-borderline-hyperventilating thing.

All-in-all the whole ordeal lasted about 25 minutes, but I swear to sweet Jesus that it felt like an eternity. I can only thank God that it was like 57 degrees outside - pretty much perfect weather for being locked in a car, I say.

Our First Week of Daycare

I've been blog retarded for a few days but only because I've been balls-to-the-wall busy at work. Pure insanity.


So the munchkin started daycare on Monday. Hardest.day.ever. I was very proud of her though - she didn't shed one tear when I left. I, however, was bawling. I called to check on her later, and they said she refused breakfast twice but ate all her lunch. She took an hour and forty-five minute nap, too. When I called, she was watching Backyardigans (we took two burned dvds up there) and having a good time. When I came to get her, she smiled so big and came waddling to me.

Wednesday wasn't as good. She cried when I started to leave, so I started to get her ready for breakfast. When I was about to put her eggs in the microwave, the teacher said, "We'll do it." I just looked at her, and she said, "Let me tell you something about new moms. The longer you stay, the worse it gets. You should come in, put her stuff away, hug and kiss her goodbye, and leave. It will get better." The whole time she's telling me this my eyes are welling up with tears. I kissed her goodbye and bawled on my way to the car. I called later, and they said she was napping but was doing fine.

Today was better. She still cried when I left, so I waited at another door to the room she was in and watched through the window. She was upset but wasn't hysterical. I felt so bad. I just wanted to scoop her up and hold her until she stopped. When the hubs went to pick her up, they said she did very well today. She went right down for a nap and ate both breakfast and lunch.

My little munchkin is growing up...and without my permission.

For your viewing pleasure

Yes, that is milk.

My loves.

Check out that tongue. Gotta taste everything!

My perfectly beautiful little ham.

The Great Debate

Last night's episode of Private Practice was heart-wrenching for me. I am that mother that is pro-vaccine but also scared shitless of what people have said about Autism.

There's no way I wouldn't vaccinate the ham - there is just way to much risk involved in not doing it. I'd have to quit my job because she wouldn't be allowed in daycare, she wouldn't be able to go to school, there would be SO MUCH RISK if we traveled outside the US (what last night's PP episode hit on), and when she decides to have babies, she would need to be vaccinated because of all the risks associated with catching those bugs while pregnant.

And even though I've read articles that say vaccines don't cause Autism, and her pediatrician is a firm believer in that, I'm still scared.

She gets her first MMR vaccination next month. It will be a horribly scary day for me.

The Human Pacifier

Imagine this...you are standing in front of four roofers holding your child and having a conversation. Before you know it, she has her hand inside your shirt and is practically groping you. And everyone can see.

This is like, my every day. The ham loves to play with my boobs. There is no easy way to put it. I know it's a comfort thing, so I'm not freakin' out about it, but DAMN.

It doesn't matter what kind of shirt I'm wearing - t-shirt, tanktop, hoodie, sweater, turtleneck - she will find a way to get her hand inside my shirt and past my bra in record time.

What makes it worse is that it's probably all my effing fault. Yes, she is still nursing but not during the day. I no longer pump, so she's on whole milk. The problem arises at night. Because she sleeps with us and nurses at night, she hasn't learned to self-soothe. She can fall asleep without nursing, but she prefers not to do it that way. I'm like a human frickin' pacifier.

Something has got to be done, but I don't even know where to begin. Put her in the crib at night? Hell to the no! Our bedroom is upstairs; hers is down. Ain't no way she's sleeping downstairs while we're up. Move the crib upstairs? Sure! Now convince the hubs because he's being a pain in the ass about that. I told him, "Well she's gonna be sleeping with us until we transfer again." "Ok."

**Let me just mention that we haven't had sex in our bed since before the ham was born. This living room has seen a lot of action. I sometimes wonder if the neighbors can see our silhouettes in the windows...teeheehee!

Anyway, the boob grabbin' has got to come to a close soon. As much as I enjoy her finding comfort in me, I can't take the men in the office breaking a sweat trying not to watch or saying things like, "Not now, huh?" or "What is she DOING?"

Lovin' on me, damnit!

New Toy

And did I mention that I got this?

=)

House of Flying Body Fluids

I got halfway to work when the hubs called to tell me that Mary threw up big time. She hadn't done it since Saturday night, but she was pretty cranky most of yesterday and didn't each much. She was fine when I left for work, but apparently she wasn't feeling good. Anway, hubs started feeling sick this morning, too, so that means I'm now working from home.

So I've decided that I'm sick of "hiding." I'm sick of having to correct names and such on this blog. It's a pain in my big ass, and I'm done, so from now on Mary is no longer Mary, and Dick is no longer Dick. I, therefore, am no longer Jane.

If someone comes across this blog because they decide to Google everyone in mother fucking creation, then so-be-it. I'll do what I can without driving myself mad to still somewhat disguise our names...J, K, and A. Or maybe I won't even do that. I will do my best not to use my own name since it's not common, and those that do have it don't spell it the way I do. Now I'm just thinking out loud.

As you can see, the ham has taken over my kitchen utensil junk drawer, so I've had to do a little rearranging. She's so worth the trouble. ;)