What happens in the delivery room...

I've blogged my (well, Hudson’s) birth story before, but I strategically left out a few interesting details--the embarrassing details, to be exact. But not today, folks. Yes, today is the day that I let you know all the outrageous deets of my time in the delivery (technically LDR) room.

When you're pregnant, you tend to read a lot of pregnancy-specific materials like FitPregnancy, What to Expect When You‘re Expecting, etc. Almost every issue of every pregnancy publication includes a list of what to pack in your birth bag. Items on the list include socks, toiletries, massage oils, etc. A few of the lists mentioned packing sugar-free hard candies as a distraction to the labor pains and to stave off any hunger pangs. Sugar-free was designated as the preferred choice since high-sugar candies might dehydrate a laboring mother further.

After experiencing extreme thirst with my first labor, I made sure that the candies were in the bag. I bought sugar-free Jolly Ranchers and Werther’s Originals to have a nice variety of fruity/creamy. My labor bag was well thought out to say the least.

By the time they started my Pitocin drip it had been around 16 hours since my last bite of food. I started downing those candies like they were…well, candy. Delicious fruity goodness. Then delicious creamy goodness. Then a different flavor of delicious fruity goodness. Then a...okay, you get it.

Soon enough, they had broken my water, and I was in the epidural/-induced land of nod. When I awoke around three hours later, I felt nearly paralyzed from the waist down. I was unable to move my legs more than a centimeter or so. The pain was nonexistent; not even the pressure from the contractions was registering. However, as the nurse (being observed by three med students, including a very attractive male) started to tinker around in my birth canal (checking my cervix, she said), I felt a familiar rumbling near the hole that is not my vagina. Before I could warn the nurse and the other audience members that I was helpless against the air that was about to escape my anus, it happened: a little puff of noxious, pregnant-woman fart gas popped out to say hello. I was overwhelmed with my own laughter and apologized to the poor nurse as I blushed all over the place.

Worse things have happened in the delivery room, I thought, and I quickly put the incident in the back of my mind. After all, I was fully dilated and would be meeting my lil dude in an hour or so.

That hour or so came and went, and the lovely nurse had used all of her might to hoist my gargantuan-ly swollen, immobile legs into the holders. There I was, privates exposed to the world (well, nine people-close enough) and a well-lit view at that. For the immodest and easily-mortified, that experience is embarrassing enough. Maybe it was the fear and anxiety-or maybe it was the drugs- but I really didn't care who saw the swollen state of my nether regions.

Howweevvvverr, it turned out that the artificial sweeteners in those delectable candies had turned my intestines into an EPA-violating sulfur gas factory. The fart bubble that escaped earlier was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg, a taste of what was to come.

Let's just say that I made the med students think they were being ambushed by a rapid-fire machine gun. I wouldn't have been offended if they had taken cover. Instead, they put on their “I’m so professional” faces and pretended like nothing happened. Bless their hearts--for I’m the same age as them, and I know that college students still think farts are funny. (‘Cuz they, like, are, duhhh.)

Pushing requires a lot of concentration and physical effort--but how was I supposed to get serious about pushing when every time I leaned forward it sounded like I had a defective trombone up my ass? Needless to say, I pushed through it (lame pun, I know) and out came Hudson--from the less-noisy hole--an hour later.

For a few, it was the first time they had ever seen a real, live birth. For almost all, it was the first time they had ever seen what a bad case of the backdoor breeze looks like from the point-of-view of your underwear.

Moral of the story: Those pregnancy magazines haven't tested their own recommendations, so go sugar-free at your own risk with extreme caution.

In which I ponder wasting my college education

How do working moms do it? How can you stand to drop your kid off in the hands of strangers for the bulk of the day? How can you stand to only have weekends and a few hours before and after work to spend with your child? How do I know that Hudson even remembers who I am when I come to pick him up in the afternoon?

I went from 24-7 with Hudson to not even spending most of my time with him. And, as you might be able to glean from the previous remarks, it's killing me.

A rundown: We wake up around 7 or 8, and he's in daycare by 9 every morning. I get home around 2 or 4--which isn't too late--but as a single mom, all the cooking, cleaning, etc. are all mine. (Not that married moms really ever have any help from the man of the house, but that's a different tangent...) There are diapers and clothes to be washed, dried and folded, supper to cook, lunch to prepare, pumping supplies to be washed and prepped, daycare items to be packed, homework to do, a shower to take and things to be picked up so my roommates don't have to live with my filth.
All this in only four or five hours so I can get to bed at a decent time.
All this usually packed into the short naps that Hud takes because all I really want to do is hold, cuddle and love on the little sucker.

So how can I work it out to be a single, stay at home mom? I'm really not interested in dating a sugar daddy; my hands and heart are full, and I'm not so sure I want to date ever again anyhow. If I could just work it out for someone to send me a big check in the mail every once in a while, that would be awesome. I'll send a casserole.

First Days

Random notes from the first day of classes/Huddy's first day of daycare:

• Ran 10 minutes behind the intended schedule because I got an unexpected and totally awesome phone call from my friend Mike, currently in Iraq.
• Hudson got me up a bit early this morning (6:15), but then slept from 7:30-8:45, allowing me to get things in order and packed up.
• Hudson was happy when I left--I sat him next to a girl when we arrived. She was cranky, but Hud was laying on the charm. Being in a hurry helped the emotional factor of leaving him at daycare. Only two minutes to cry.
• There were two other babies there when we got there. Two teachers, so I hope it stays that way. Doubtful.
• Parking a mile away isn't much fun in the morning.
• The professor took attendance in my political theory class by having us tell a bit about ourselves. After answering the "favorite book/movie of the summer" question by saying I had a baby instead, I overheard a few classmates behind me make comments like, "Look how skinny she is!" and, "Wow, she looks good!" Much appreciated, old chaps.
• The student lounge thingy I plan on eating lunch and pumping in was also being used by a girl I know from other classes. She was talking to her husband on the phone and probably wondering why the heck I was scoping out the electical outlets before leaving. Class got out 45 minutes early, so I decided to head for home.
• Current agenda: eat and blog, pump one side, head to daycare to see my baby-waby (who I'm sure is having none of that bottle nonsense and will be on a hunger strike until I return), then back to campus for two more 90-minute classes (public relations campaigns and comparative government).
• I plan on Twitter-ing what I'm having for lunch every day. See the "What I'm Up To" area over there? ------> Look for it. Today I'm having a pasta salad (whole wheat bow tie pasta, olive oil with a splash of balsamic vinegar, cucumbers, kalamata olives, yellow peppers, onion, romano cheese, and fresh chives, basil and oregano from my kitchen herb garden) and a muenster cheese sandwich on Women's Bread. It might be problematic that Twitter allows only 140 characters per tweet.

Lookie what I got!

Oh yes. Ohhhh yes. Those lovely vintage Pyrex butterprint refrigerator dishes you see above? Yeah, those belong to ME! Moi. Myself. ME! And you know what?

Neener neener boo boo.

They're all mine and you can't have them! So take that.

Okay, okay. I think you get it: I'm pretty stinkin' stoked about these hot little mammajammas. And why wouldn't I be? They're the height of anti-plastic, retro-cool, heavy-duty food storage. Even though it might be a while before these babies see actual food, I feel 100 times cooler with them hanging around. And who wouldn't? They're fabulous. And gorgeous. And everlasting. And....okay. Enough.

Big, huge, tremendous thanks to my great pal Daley (yes, it's a pretty rockin' name) for acquiring them for me. Gotta love eBay and friends like her!

Off to do some more admiring...

{ Fresh Photo Friday } ...

...seems to be my only consistent posting lately. My bad.

Classes start soon, and I should be falling into some sort of a routine, finally. Yay! I'm dreading taking Hudson to daycare though. Like majorly. Originally, he was only going to go to daycare Tuesdays and Thursdays as I only have classes those days (and one on Mondays, but who's counting), but I've taken a job as a teacher's assistant in the art department. Therefore, that makes me the worst mom ever as Huddy Buddy will have to be in the care of strangers for part of the day, five days a week. Ugh! The agony!

Please don't expect to see me around this Tuesday, as I will be a hysterical, worried wreck from the hours of 9 to 4. And every day after that.

Now, for { FPF }:

Who you lookin' at?

I'm totally winning this staring contest, mister!

(note how my giant two-month-old is fit to bust out of that 3-6 month onesie)

To my lover boy

Dear Baby Boy:
I love it when you snort in the midst of fussing about waking up.
I love it how your arms still flail around because you haven't figured out that they're yours and you can control them.
I love that a few days ago you discovered that you have two hands. You will now hold them together over your chest.
I love it when you fart so loud you wake yourself up.
I love the gummy, squinty-eyed grin you get when you wake up in the morning or hear a nice voice.
I love how you suave-ly fondled Val's boob last week while looking in her eyes. In front of her date. Bold move, young one.
I love feeling you nod off to sleep on my shoulder. I can't see your eyes, but I can tell by the way your whole body relaxes and you get that much heavier.
I love how you're almost 16 lbs at two months and two weeks. Why not be able to wear 6-9 month clothes at 2.5 months? The doctor reassured us today that you're just really good at absorbing the breast milk and aren't overweight. You'll thin out, don't you worry...chunker.
I love it when you take a hard nap and let me get stuff done.
I love what a tough little boy you're being after getting a deep poke in each leg and a mouthful of immunizing goo today at your two-month checkup.
I love that you met your first black man today, who also happens to be your first international acquaintance. Phil M was honored.
I love how you calm down the instant we step outside. Walking to the mailbox is a joy. Is it the sound of the crazy bugs?
I love you, and I just thought you should know.

{ Fresh Photo Friday }

{ huddy's cuddle buddy }

Is your cell phone looking sleepy?

Lately, as a side-effect from Mr. McColickypants (ahem, Hudson), I've been rocking to sleep every inanimate object that crosses my path. My bowl of cereal, my cell phone, my keys--all get held with tender loving sway. Just a few moments ago, I noticed my bowl of roasted new potato salad looked very peaceful as it sat completely relaxed in my hands, ever so slowly drifting off to...what am I saying?
If your household objects need a little love, send them my way--or my mom's for that matter, as she started developing the habit too. Hudson is already so great at getting people to do tricks.

Notes from the boxes of chaos

Things are quite chaotic at the moment, as I'm in the middle of moving back to the college town. Therefore, I'm posting in bullet-style as I eat my yummy organic vanilla yogurt topped with blackberries that I got from the { super awesome } farmer's market a few hours ago. Hudson is taking a much-needed nap. Hopefully it lasts a while, Momma needs a break and to get stuff done.

• I'm eating yummy organic vanilla yogurt topped with blackberries that I got from the { super awesome } farmer's market a few hours ago. Wait, did I already say that? Sorry, it's good. I also bought some new potatoes that will be delicious roasted with olive oil and whatever spices I decide on. Garlic will most definitely be involved. 450 for 40 if you want to try too.
• I put this crib together all by my handy little self yesterday. Like allll day. That thing has been a huge pain in the tush since I saw it and had to have it. It better be worth it. I'll take a picture of it as soon as the whole room is done...in a month or so perhaps.
• Phase 1 of the move-in is completed. The 'rents are bringing my bed, dresser, the rocker, and a bunch of other stuff next weekend. Moving is not fun--especially with a needy momma's boy of a two-month old. Yes, the little bugger is two whole months old tomorrow. I can't believe it, to say the least. Two months is only two months, but WOW time is flying.
• Hudson's Step-Grandma sent me this loungewear set in plum (live, laugh...love). It's divine to say the least. Visits with them should be more frequent now that we are closer.
• I have a nasty ingrown toenail. It hurts so bad that I'm limping. I hope it gets better soon, this is ridiculous and is making unpacking that much more unbearable.
• The people that live below us were playing music so loud under our room that it was vibrating the floor--the floor that Hudson's mattress was lying on--the mattress that Hudson was trying to take a nap on. They're lucky they stopped just as I was changing my pants to go meet them. I hope it was a one-time occurrence; I also hope they like waking up when Hudson decides they should. I bet they get more serious about using birth control.
• Both the roomies are gone this weekend, leaving me to be free to make a huge mess as I'm unpacking. That's a relief.
• I was welcomed home to the apartment by a little-too-friendly spider in my bed. Let's just say it was a one night stand for him. I've offed two other creatures of the same species since then--one in the laundry area and another in my room again. Iiiick.
• I only packed two onesies for Hudson in size 0-3 months. He's officially a two-month-old in 3-6 month clothes. I love my big boy!

Time's up, my yogurt's gone. Off to let dishes pile up in the sink while the roomies are gone!
{ just kidding...kinda }

Also, how on earth can three hours south be this big of a temperature difference? Holy hotness!

Edited to add: Make that four spiders.