Monday, August 6, 2012

It's All Under Control

Today is my first day solo, which explains why

-the kids are zombied out to Sesame Street
-I am parked on the couch nursing and studiously ignoring the fact that we are desperately in need of groceries and I am going to be the one to handle that...with my crew of 3 in tow
-I am also in great need of a shower before I go out in public, but I am ignoring that, too. For now. Plus the babe could use a little bathy-bath...she's yet to have one so it's about time probably.

But I interrupt these critical activities to bring you an important PSA about MomClothes. That is, the clothing moms wear. See, what happens is you give birth and you are happy for 2 reasons. The first is that you have a baby, yay! and the second is that you are done wearing the maternity clothes you are now sick of after 9 months.

Except wrong on the clothing front because even if you've dropped 20 pounds immediately (possible, right? 9 lb baby +decently large placenta+all that fluid=a 20) things are not what they seem. Your chest is larger b/c it's now in the business of milk-making and your hips may have budged. Which in theory I am thankful for because this movement has allowed me to have big babies without major abdominal surgery but it's hard to be thankful when trying on the 8th pair of pants in a rush to be ready for Mass.

So this reality brings me to tell you two things. Uno: if you are shopping with just your daughters and are walking around The Snooty Fox consignment store looking for pants, don't let your boob hang out. See.....I was nursing Pia quite modestly in the sling and she fell asleep and un-latched herself, which is fine, except I forgot to suit up again, and when, a few minutes later, she started to squirm b/c she doesn't seem to like having stuff on the back of her head, I pulled the sling down a bit and just supported her head and neck with my arm and continued shopping. Then about thirty minutes after that I happened to look down and it was kind of like this

Oops. So be careful about that is all I'm saying.

Thing dos: You might think a nice, loose-fitting, peasanty type skirt (purchased in Assisi, how cultural can you GET) is a good choice for Mass. Not so, if you have a toddler. I was making a trip to the bathroom to change Pia's diaper and I was rushing a bit b/c I was trying to beat the processional, and I was winning, until Dominic decided, he, too, needed to go to the potty. So he came barrelling out of the pew and lost his bright green Croc, and I had to keep him from going back for it, because at that point the altar boys and priest and etc were upon us. Then I was worried that they would all trip over the shoe. That worry was quickly replaced by worries that Dominic was pulling on my skirt and it was definitely falling off. Plus I was still kind of nursing a semi-screaming baby in the sling. Add Dominic yelling, "My shoe!!!! Need go potty!! My shoe!!!" and I could not get out of there fast enough.

Moral of that story would be, if you are going with a drawstring skirt....reeeeally cinch up that drawstring mmkay??

Two more things that have nothing to do with clothing at all. During the Prayers of the Faithful the upcoming Solemnity of St. Dominic was mentioned. My (non-saint) Dominic looked up and said forcefully, "They say St. Dominic, but I say NO!!" Okie-doke. At least he's listening. I think.

My placenta is in the freezer because I am going to bury it in the garden and plant something pretty on top and then when Pia is older I will insist on awkward things like posing near her placenta-shrub for her prom pictures (assuming we let her do things like talk to boys or go to prom.) It's going to be great, but right now...there it sits, frozen in time. I keep opening the freezer and catching a glimpse of reddish meat and thinking, "Huh, I wonder what that red meat is....I don't remember buying that recently, I wonder if after the meal train is over I can cook tha-----AHHHHHH NO. No. Placenta. Nooo...."

 It's like....she is their goddess and they must present little sacrifices to the altar of her sweetness. Can't complain, really.


  1. I've had the boobsling malfunction too. Always fun. Usually, one of my talkers lets me know. Loudly.

    And I'm dying over the ikea sippy cup lid. Little offerings of love. Or a second head.

  2. That video is the BEST.
    I can't count on all my fingers and toes how many times I've gone to Walmart, come home and realized the flap on my nursing bra was undone. In a tank top. Nice little show for the cashier.
    I can't wait to see prom pics next to the placenta bush.

  3. I try on at least 8 different things before Mass every single weekend and I know it drives the hubby nuts, but en serio...I truly do not know what fits and what doesn't. It's like a stressful, tear-jerking treasure hunt.

  4. i would seriously put some duct tape on the placenta container saying "placenta!!! don't cook me!!!"

    people always get really quiet around me when they start speaking of people they know who did stuff like bury the placenta because after the first two times of me answering with something like, "yeah... mine was taken to the lab to be biopsied to find out why i almost died in childbirth", it stops being a pleasant conversation topic.

  5. HA-LARIOUS!! All of it. And yes, my placenta from last August... that would be August 2011, just got planted under a tree this July. July 2012. And I did not think of the prom pictures connection... I shall also do weird things to my son like this. :)