The Bloom Is Off The Rose

I got absolutely nothing done at work on Monday. I didn't answer a single letter, I didn't even log my mail. Actually, that's not totally true. I did manage to take a legal call and I answered and sorted the sixty-four e-mails that had accumulated while I was in Miami visiting with my uncle before his surgery. Oh, I also got a cheap thrill. But work-wise, nada. And the day, it flew by. It was fun and it was over. All of a sudden it was 4:30pm and I had done nothing but relocate two piles of crap work. Yesterday, I got some work done. Clients' crap correspondence was organized, I devised a plan of attack to get stuff done and I even finished three or four of those things. And in the end, the day, it didn't fly by, but I wasn't staring at the clock counting the seconds either. Which brings us to today, apparently the slowest day ever. I've pumped the boobs (exciting), eaten breakfast (ham, egg and cheese on a multi-grain bagel, yum), caught up on my celebrity gossip (Justin Long, you slut!), read my e-mail (hi boo!), written to two clients (you crazy fuks), chatted with Mr. Cool (bad knees suck), and yet it is only 8:31 a.m. How is this possible. It should be like 10:00 a.m.

And, is it just me or is my use of the word "got" totally ghetto? I write like I speak and well, maybe I need to take a remedial English class or something. Yowsers. Ghettoness aside, I can't believe how slow this day is progressing. An inchworm moves faster than time in my office. Prof. Larson's business law class moves faster than time in my office. Invasive anal examinations performed by knowledge seeking space aliens move faster than time in my office. Gah.

Also slow, my ability to blog about Miami. I brought my camera with me and took some great shots of Lady Bean on her first boat ride and playing at the Stiltsville house. I had planned to blog about the highlights of my trip (afterall my uncle's five hour surgery, not a highlight, though surving the surgery was) but I am slow, however, and have not managed to upload any of the good ones. Instead I have this one ...



... a comparison of what I brought to Stiltsville for me (on the right) and what I brought to Stiltsville for her. I had my phone, camera, knitting, sunscreen and a hat, whereas, she, she had two bags of stuff.

I also have these two pictures...




... which should be accompanied by my mental soundtrack of "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? How much longer?" I have several pictures of Stiltsville, but none of the trip out there. I was trying to get some shots that would capture my mounting excitement as the houses got closer and closer. I didn't really do that.

The last picture I managed to upload is from the front patio/deck of the house looking at the city of Miami ...



It is one of the least interesting pictures I took. I really need to get my butt in gear and get those pictures off of the camera. And, if I had brought the camera to work today, maybe I could do that to pass time because even with all of my blathering .... it is still only 9:02 a.m.

Highlights, vol. 1

I walk into my office to find a sign from the gang (nice) and a present from Crazy,which, for the record, brings us up to six animals. I am feeling a bit like Noah.


I know y'all are some jealous biatches but you better step off my pink striped zebra!

I decided to take a picture to represent what going back to work meant to me ... knitting and napping time. But my inbox was so full, it tipped over when I put my yarn on top.

I was hugged by Crazy and then groped ... after hugging me (WTF?), she stepped back, put her hands on the girls and said, "Oh! I should be careful of those, I don't want to get wet."

I start to sort through the "personal mail" pile on my desk and find a court notice ... informing me of a hearing on MAY 9, 2008.

It's only 9:41 a.m. ... this is going to be a GREAT day!

Something New

I'm not in love with these socks. I do not want to marry them. I do not want to have kids with them. I will, however, wear them until they fall apart because I did knit them stitch by stitch and all those stitches took some time.



I think one reason I am not in love with these socks is the fit. The socks were a bit wide and so to compensate, I made them shorter. They fit my feet okay, but still, eh. They are wide because I am insane. Not insane in that I can't tell how wide my feet are, but insane because there was pooling in the colors and so I had to get past that and this was the way that happened. Mind you, the pooling happened anyway once I started increasing for the gusset, so bah. I hate pooling and I think that I need to quit buying these pretty variegated yarns. I know better and yet I seem to buy them anyway. I buy them, I knit them and then I am underwhelmed. I was going to say, such is life I suppose. But instead I shall be more proactive. Oh yes. I shall make a proclamation. One involving lame yarn purchases. I will need to ponder my proclamation, to draft it just so. But just wait, it will be good (or not).



So anyway, these socks took some time to knit. And, it wasn't just because they are so wide and have extra stitches or that Lady Bean is a time suck and I couldn't work on them often. Oh no, these socks took awhile because of all of the flipping around in the book I had to do. I like the idea of the mix and match heel, toe and arch, but making it work was a bitch. I have six different post-it notes marking six different things I was flipping between. In the end, I used the Rushing Rivulet stitch pattern with the Riverbend Architecture and the Whirlpool toe.

The Rushing Rivulet stitch pattern is pretty, though somewhat obscured by the yarn's many colors. I tried to mute the colors in the picture so you could see the pattern. In any event, it is a nice stitch pattern and super easy. I'm sure I will use it again at some point.



The Whirlpool toe is basically the star toe only done in a toe up manner. It was easy to do and a toe I am sure I will do again. The Riverbend Architecture consists of putting your gusset on the sole of the sock. I'm not sure how I feel about this as far as comfort in walking. We'll have to see how they feel once I wear them.



So overall the socks are okay. The book and the pattern are great ideas, if a bit fussy and pain-in-the-ass-turning-forth-and-back-y.



Yarn: Socks That Rock, medium weight, Watermelon Tourmaline.
Needles: Addi Circs, size 3.0 mm (US 2)
Pattern: Cat Bordhi's Rushing Rivulet Riverbend socks.
Modifications: None.
Time: 27 days.
Care: Machine wash, dry flat.

M is for ...

Major, massive undertaking.



Yes, that is my first "real" lace project. And, if I may say so my self (which, no duh, I can since this is my blog), I feel like I am really setting the bar pretty high. Not so much because there are a lot of complicated stitches, but because HOLY CRAP there are a lot of stitches period.



This is the Bee Fields shawl. BeFri bought the pattern for me as a Christmas gift and I have been working up the nerve to wind my Geisha yarn into a pretty ball and get to knitting. Being that it is such a massive undertaking for me, I had to psyche myself up. I do have one issue and that is my yarn gauge. It is smaller than the pattern's which means my shawl will be smaller than the pattern and that is NO GOOD! I want it to be nice and big and sqooshy. After reading the pattern, I realize I have no idea of exactly what I am doing or how this is working. Basically I am following along the pattern blindly and hoping for the best. I can't figure out how or where I could do extra stuff to make it bigger so I think I am going to e-mail Ann, the pattern creator. Hopefully she can say like, "Oh, just do an extra repeat of rows 1,161 through 2,378." Ha!

More Cowbell

Lady Bean received a present in the mail today. A present from Crazy. Well, actually, a present from Crazy's cats. Go figure.



Why yes, those are three more garbage bag animals. Apparently, we are building a menagerie. A menagerie of sharp, pointy (did I mention sharp?) bag animals that are TOTALLY appropriate for an infant.



And, for the record, I am screwed when it comes time to identify the brown guy cause I have no inkling of exactly what he is. A mini-Snuffleupagus?

You'll Be Missed

"The whole problem with this idea of obscenity and indecency, and all of these things -- bad language and whatever -- it's all caused by one basic thing, and that is: religious superstition .... There's an idea that the human body is somehow evil and bad and there are parts of it that are especially evil and bad, and we should be ashamed. Fear, guilt and shame are built into the attitude toward sex and the body. ... It's reflected in these prohibitions and these taboos that we have."
-- George Carlin.

My Own Fault

For the most part my maternity leave has been Crazy free. There was the call informing me that I might get laid off, then there were the five gazillion subsequent calls telling me that no, not getting laid off. And, for the record, that totally bummed me out. I wanted to get laid off. But I digress. I had been pretty much Crazy free and I guess all the normalcy pushed me into complacency because I voluntarily stopped by my office last week and then, again voluntarily, brought Lady Bean up to Crazy's office to say hi. One thing led to another and the next thing I know, the woman touched my belly. I KNOW! Who the fuk rubs a non-pregnant person's belly? She says, "You're looking good" and then rub-a-dub-dubs. I was NOT prepared. Not that you can be. I mean, really, who is prepared for that kind of thing? Especially at her office. A pole dancer, maybe. But not a lawyer.

L is for ...

Little feet in handknit Little Coriolis socks.



Handknit socks which are a tad to long if you look closely.



I finished these Little Corilois socks several weeks ago but forgot to do a finished object photo shoot. Aside from the fact that the yarn is crap, the socks came out quite nice. Actually that is not true.



Even though I followed the directions meticulously, the second sock isn't the same as the one in the pattern. The picture of the second sock in the pattern has two lines of stitches going up the arch, which makes sense since the first sock has two rows of stitches going up the arch. Only my second sock, it has one row of stitches. Weird, huh? Lady Bean doesn't seem to mind so I'm not sweating it. Plus these will only fit her for a minute, so I am not going to rip them out.

I have to admit that using little feet in handknit socks for my L might be "cheating" as K was for knitting and the knitting was these socks. I did finish the socks and Lady Bean is wearing them so there is some difference since K was written, but still. I feel a little wrong using the same item twice. So I have a back-up L ... L is for large ass lizard



This guy was chilling on my uncle's screen porch and startled the hell out of me. I was standing on the porch, talking on my cellphone, minding my own business, and turned to look out at the yarn and BAM! There he was in all his reptilian splendor. He was longer than my hand and the brightest green. He was also pretty patient too since he stayed put while I went and got my camera.

So there you have it, L is for lizards and Lady Bean's little lady feet in little coriolis socks.



Yarn: Moda•Dea Sassy Stripes, color #6946 Crush, dye lot #5821.
Needles: Addi Turbo, size 3.0 mm (US 2)
Pattern: Little Coriolis
Time: 3 days.
Care: Machine wash, dry flat.

Peas in a Pod

This morning I realized that my coffee, milk and caramel concoction looks eerily similar to Lady Bean's infant formula, breast milk and prune juice concoction.



God forbid I ever confuse the two!

Constitutionally Required

So I've decided to supplement my income by pole dancing and have knit my pasties.



As if. Can you imagine? What if the yarn started to stretch out and then I got cold? That could be disastrous.

Actually, these are toes for a pair of socks I am knitting for myself. For some reason I like to spread them out and picture pasties and yarmulkes. I need more sleep.

K is for ...

Knitting, obviously! One could say krazy knitting since I'm once again attempting to knit a pair of socks for the bean. Okay, let's be honest here. I am knitting the second practice pair, the little coriolis, in Cat Bordhi's book, but it seems better to say that I am knitting for Lady Bean than just farting around with a new pattern and some cheap yarn. Moving on, I have one sock done and it took me two hours.



It fits! There is even a little extra room in the toe area which seems promising in the whole "actually can wear them" department.



Now lets hope I can find another two hours in the near future to finish the second sock. This pair is significantly bigger than the last pair I knit (since I am using much cheaper, but much thicker, yarn), so I have high hopes that I will finish them before she outgrows them.

Ha

So Crazy called me at home tonight and for about one millionth of one tenth of one second I missed work. Then she started to speak and the missing work thing evaporated. In any event, the rumor is that the state may not be renewing my firm's contract and so we may all be laid off at the end of the month. Somehow getting laid off while on maternity leave seems like the perfect ending to my current job. There is something poetic and perfect about the whole thing, so poetic and perfect that it will never happen which is I'm not the least bit worried about it. It just ain't happenin. What, am I tempting fate by putting that out there in writing? BRING IT Fates! Lay me off! Force me to stay home with my new kid while collecting unemployment, I dare you!

Turtle or Hare

I finished the Little Sky practice socks for Lady Bean. I did, I did. I thought she might enjoy wearing them today after suffering through the indignity known as "vaccinations" but she didn't. Oh no, she didn't.



I'd like to think that the screaming that commenced when I put the socks on her was due to the various viruses floating through her system because really, that could sour anyone's disposition. And though the virus thing did not help, I suspect the socks were what set her off (that time) because they were too small and I had to really cram her feet in there. The heel didn't reach anywhere near where her heel was ... despite my attempts of pulling, pushing, and prying. And yes, I really did try to cram, push and pull her little feetsies into the sock. Hell, she was already crying, I figured I might as well try to jockey those little fuckers onto her. But it didn't work. She and I had a heated discussion on the virtues of bacon fat as a lubricant and in the end she won out so I didn't grease her up. Can you imagine those feet covered in bacon grease? Gah! That is like a meal right there!



I suspect if I had used half my brain and actually read the pattern, and not skipped important things like "knit 8 rounds" that I could finished these little guys in time to fit her. Having to rip back each sock and re-knit them more than once (or more than twice) because of reading issues, well that is just ridiculous. Especially the second sock. Who has to re-knit a second sock that is identical to the first one she knit? A moron, that's who! In any event, the socks were a fun knit and the construction was interesting. The thing I enjoyed most was the short row heel. I KNOW. I hate the short row heel. At least I did until I did this one. The directions clicked with me and I was able to conceal the wraps in a way that made the sides match and now I know longer hate the short row heel. I KNOW. Crazy.



Yarn: (Leftover) Socks That Rock, medium weight, color unknown, I thought it was Nodding Violet but a browse on Ravelry makes me think not so much.
Needles: Addi Circs, size 3.0 mm (US 2)
Pattern: Little Sky Sock
Modifications: None. Except that I missed a few rounds on one set of ribbing because not only can I not read, I can't count either. Whoops!
Time: 23 days a/k/a as long as it takes for my kid's feet to grow bigger than the pattern.
Care: Machine wash, dry flat.

J is for...

Jesus Jackass! Quit wrecking your husband's car.



This was the second time in three days that I had an "unfortunate incident" when backing up. The first time cost us $17 for a new Honda emblem. This time, the second time, well try $17, times a thousand.

The first time I'd like to say was not my fault. It was the garage door's fault for not opening up fast enough when I was reversing. For some reason nobody is buying that. I'm not sure why. In all fairness though, the second time really was not solely my fault. For reals, yo. In any event ... Jackass indeed.

Neverending

I've been working on the itty bitty practice Little Sky Sock for-eveh. It's been so long you'd think the sock was going to be a men's size gazillion. In fact, I'd been working on it for so long that I decided to test it out to make sure it would fit.





It does fit and, surprisingly, Lady Bean was pretty cool with me putting the sock on her with the needles to test the size. I was happy it fit and so I motored on and finished.



Now, I just need to crank out the other one. Pronto. Mucho pronto. So pronto that they both will fit for at least one wear. Otherwise I am just going to have to chew off her toes to make 'em fit. Baby toes ... yummmmm!

Obvious

You know your life is taking a downward turn when you actally have "do NOT wreck car ... AGAIN" on your to-do list.

Bits

I haven't been real good about updating me blog, mostly because I have nothing of import to say; but also because my twenty-three inch, twelve pound boss cracks the whip and doesn't like me to futz around on the internet. Tyrant!

* * * * * * * * * *
I haven't done anymore work on my sock. Joan was here for several days and loving on Lady Bean so I had many breaks but I found myself gazing at my navel during those breaks. I don't really get to naval gaze anymore so it was totally worth it but it means my mini sock is stalled.

* * * * * * * * * *
I've discovered a great product. What could it be, you must be wondering (or not), this product so good I am willing to hock it for absolutely no consideration from it's manufacturer (Not that wouldn't like some swag ... call me Crest!)? Why it is Crest Pro-Health Night Toothpaste. You see, I've always been a Mentadent kind of girl but during all of those random intervals in the middle of the night where I had to wake up and feed   the tyrant   my darling daughter, I was having some wicked dragon breath. Breath so bad I feared it would wake her all of the way up which would be NO GOOD. So, bowing to the power of advertising, I got me some Crest Pro-Health Night Toothpaste and started using it before I went to bed. And it worked. I mean, I don't have fresh minty breath when I   am violently snapped out of slumber by shrill demands for food   wake up, but I'm not going to gag a maggot either. Which leads me to my next thought: Crest isn't doing a good enough job advertising this product. Instead of the clinical aspect as the hook, they should be using the whole morning nookie thing as a hook... you know, freshens breath so well that you won't kill your partner if he/she wants some morning nookie before you've brushed your grill. I know there is an awesome tag line in there somewhere ... breath so fresh you can get fresh in the morning? Right, well I am a lawyer, not an ad-man.

* * * * * * * * * *
Have you seen Wedding Crashers? If you answered no, well, you need to change that. Anywho, you know that scene where Hotty Hot Vince Vaughn is making balloon animals and the bratty kid yells, "Whatever, make me a bicycle Clown!" This scene ...


Well, I often think Lady Bean is looking at me and thinking, "Make me a bottle Clown!" or "Walk me around the room ... faster Clown!" Whenever I think this it makes me laugh. I suspect she will call me Clown instead of Mom.

* * * * * * * * * *
How about them Canes and their ACC championship? Now we are ranked Number 1 ... Sweet!

First

In the past, Mother's Day has been kind of a downer for me so I usually just ignored it. Or made jokes about being a mutha, a muthafucka. This year, however, I find myself the honoree, not the honoror. This shift in my stature has made the holiday a little less sucktastic and so I decided to celebrate. How you may wonder (or not) do I celebrate when the person that would throw the celebration, Lady Bean, is only five or so weeks old and has not yet mastered her opposable (or prehensile for those of you medically and scientifically inclined) thumbs and her accomplice, Boo, is out of town until this evening? Well, at 5:30 a.m., I had cake for breakfast. Crazy, I know. But wait! There's more! At 9:15 a.m., I had a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup for brunch. Also crazy, and good for maintaining a nice sugar buzz. But that is not all. There is even more celebrating going on!

Lady Bean has decided to sit, peacefully, in a half awake/half slumber state NOT ON MY LAP so that I can knit! She doesn't like when I knit with her on my lap as the needles tend to smack into her a bit. So picky, but whatever. I'm getting to knit. Actually, I think that the reason she is being so biddable is because she knows I am knitting for her. I've been wanting to dive into the new, well not really new anymore but I am slow, Cat Bordhi book. Instead of just jumping in, which is usually my preferred method, I've decided to actually knit the practice socks since I now know someone with a foot small enough to wear them. Though, at the rate I am plodding along, they are going to be for her children instead of her. Either way, it doesn't matter because I get to celebrate Mother's Day doing something I enjoy. So, for all of you moms, or you muthafuckas, Happy Mother's Day. Try to enjoy it and do something fun.

Inished-fay Object-ay

I is for Inished-fay object-ay? What? Is that cheating? Pig Latin doesn't count? Well, it should!



I finally finished the Lacy Summer Socks I started in March. The pattern was quite simple so under normal circumstances these puppies would be a quick knit. Heck, I finished the first sock in a day! When life interrupts, they take a bit longer, but they are still pretty brainless, and painless, to knit.

I did run into a glitch as I hate the short row heel and that is what the pattern wants. I mean I really hate the short row heel. Hate it with a passion reserved for things like bugs and cheap vodka. Nonetheless, I gritted my teeth and used the short row heel in the pattern. I didn't use the short row method for the toe because I always do the same toe. Also, me, not a masochist. One short rowed thing is enough. The pattern also called for using the design on the sole which seemed like it would be uncomfortable. Since I did the stupid short row heel, I felt good about just knitting the sole.



The design part of the pattern is pretty and reminds me of a feather and fan type deal. Even though I didn't modify that part at all, for some reason mine do not look like the socks in the pattern's pictures.



I am not sure if it was my yarn substitution or something else more ethereal. Either way, I am not too bummed. They are nice summer socks that I can wear with my sneakers on a regular day.




Yarn: Socks That Rock, medium weight, color unknown, I thought it was Nodding Violet but a browse on Ravelry makes me think not so much, half a skein.
Needles: Addi Circs, size 3.0 mm (US 2)
Pattern: Lacy Summer Socks
Modifications:to be a ped and modified to have a stockinette sole.
Time: 37 days.
Care: Machine wash, dry flat.

I is for ...

Sanity saving Infant formula.



You may have noticed that things have been pretty quiet here. If you chalked it up to having a new baby, you'd be right. Sort of. Until this week, things were kind of grim as Lady Bean was CONSTANTLY screaming and I was losing my mind. Though she was thriving as far as weight gain, Lady Bean was not a happy baby, and I was not a happy mommy. For the first three weeks of her life, Lady Bean didn't sleep and when her eyes were open, so was her mouth. From the beginning we had had problems with my milk supply which left us supplementing my milk with formula. It also had me attached to a pump every two and a half hours and taking herbs and prescriptions trying to up my supply. I was pumping, adding formula to the pumped milk, and praying Lady Bean would be full and soothed. Initially we thought that Lady Bean was so unhappy because she was starving. Later we figured out she had reflux. Reflux that made her every meal painful and sleep impossible. It also made our stress levels skyrocket.

Now I've dealt with stress. And, I think I've done pretty well with it. I grew up with alcoholic parents who didn't get sober until I was 12 years old and divorced shortly thereafter. Then I buried both of those parents, as well as my aunt, my FiL, my second mom, cousins and friends. I think I handled the stress of these events pretty well. I feel like I am someone who rolls with the punches for the most part and don't lose my shit in an untimely manner. Not that I don't lose my shit, but I wait until after I've dealt with the crisis. In any event, this is why I never thought the stress of having a baby would knock me off my keel. Would I be stressed? Absolutely. Would there be rough times? Bad times? Hairy times? Sure. Would I lose my mind and suffer from postpartum depression? Nope. No way. I suspect it was this mindset that kept me from realizing that what I was feeling was not the normal baby blues or new parent stress but instead was postpartum depression.

After ten days of herbs, I started taking the milk supply prescription. Lady Bean was constantly awake and constantly screaming, even though she was no longer starving. Reflux was kicking her itty bitty ass and her prescription wasn't helping. I figure the angst, the insomnia, the sadness, the desperation, the soul sucking ickness, the inability to get a deep breath, the desire to just go away, these things that I was feeling, they were from being overwhelmed and over-tired. This was life with a fussy baby. I mean, you can't sleep when the baby sleeps, if the baby doesn't sleep. So I took each day minute by minute, sometimes second by second, chanting "keep her alive," and forced myself to do the things I needed to do.

I figured that I was just feeling the new parent stress and disregarded the big fat warning all over the milk drug and it's instructions that said that rare side effects include (both bold and underlined or basically saying "pay attention dummy") anxiety, agitation, depression ... or difficulty breathing. So for seven days I took the milk drug and slipped further and further into myself. I felt less and less engaged in my life and more and more agitated at the thought of spending another second alone with this little screaming person. I didn't want to pump. I didn't want to feed her. I didn't want to cuddle with her. I didn't want to change her. I just wanted to be alone. I counted down the time until Boo came home and I could give the baby to him. I was introspective and gave some thought to how I was feeling since Boo would ask me multiple times a day if I was okay. I figured, I didn't want to hurt Lady Bean, I didn't want to hurt myself, I just wanted to be left alone so I was overwhelmed and not depressed. I convinced myself, my husband, and my friends that I was okay, just tired. Even feeling totally incapable of getting ready for guests to come meet Lady Bean seemed normal-ish to me. It wasn't until I found myself sobbing in the shower for no apparent reason and unable to stop that I realized that I was not normal and something was really, really wrong.

I am lucky that I have a husband and friends who care about me and were able to step in and help when I said something along the lines of, "Um, I think I might be fucked up." When I walked into the family room wearing a towel and tears Boo knew that I was not okay. So with his, and some really good friends' help, I talked to my doctor and the pediatrician and worked on fixing me and our baby. I stopped taking the milk drug and Lady Bean started taking a special formula for reflux babies. Now Lady Bean is no longer awake twenty hours a day, screaming and inconsolable. And, with the drugs out of my system, I've been able to regain me. With the help of friends, I have been able to rest. I'm still not one hundred percent. I still have some anxiety (after all, if Lady Bean isn't screaming she must have stopped breathing since screaming was her modus operandi for three weeks) and some insomnia. But, I can breathe. I can laugh when I flick the air bubbles out of the baby medicine dropper like a heroin addict getting ready to shoot up. I can pick up Lady Bean and snuggle with her. I can sit her on my lap while I surf the internet and laugh with her about the latest celeb gossip. I can leave the house with Lady Bean knowing that if she has a melt down, I won't.

So, I is for infant formula. Infant formula has saved my sanity. Infant formula got me off the milk drug. Infant formula feeds Lady Bean in a way that soothes her reflux, allows her to sleep, and when she is awake, allows her to act like a baby and not a writhing, screaming banshee. Infant formula got my mind back in a place where I can say yes when people offer to help because I am not worried about me or the baby driving the helping person nuts. Don't get me wrong, I aspire to having a breast fed baby. I may not be able to feed her fully with my milk supply, but I have hopes that Lady Bean and her wicked reflux will be able to tolerate my milk in the near future. I am still pumping. I have storage bags of the stuff in our crisper waiting for a chance to be her dinner. But, I also have perspective. If she can't tolerate the breast milk in the next week or so, if she is a formula fed baby forever, well, it is okay. Some people might disagree. Some people might see me as a failure and instant death for my baby, but to them, I am enough of my old self that I can say fuck off. And, for good measure, kiss my ass. Lady Bean being formula fed doesn't mean that she is going to be sickly. It doesn't mean that I am a failure as a mother.



It does, however, mean that on those days when she is fussy, a normal fussy baby, and I need a break, I can pass her off to my husband, call a friend and share a bottle of wine (preferably while eating sushi) without worrying about Lady Bean getting loopy. Silver linings, if you will.