I went on my first road trip this weekend. Can we talk a minute about infant car seats?
They’re awful!
People, I have zero muscle control in my neck, so when you put me in a car seat, I am naturally going to slump over to the side, unless of course you pull the straps tight enough to keep my head upright, but the only reason that works is because my cheeks balance precariously on the straps.
In all, there is nothing comfortable about this so-called “pumpkin” seat.
(I like how you’ve given it a cutesy little name in an attempt to make it sound like it’s fun. So precious of you…)
Anyway, I’m in the running to claim the Baby of the Year title, so I was on my best behavior for this road trip, and not only because I want the prestige. I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I’ve heard my parents tell the story of the night the man named “dad” dropped my sister, Tia, on her head when she was a baby.
Apparently she was sleeping in her “pumpkin” seat and the handle wasn’t locked well, so when “dad” picked her up, she pitched forward and fell on her face.
So she was left defenseless against the dangerous “pumpkin” seat, without even her hands to help break her fall. (Yes, I’m putting the quotations in there on purpose, because pumpkins are round and lovely, and seem to elicit happy memories from everyone of something called “fall.” This infant car seat elicits no such happy feelings from me. Thus the quotations…)
Whenever my parents tell this horrific story, they laugh. Sure, they say it was an accident, and they make cheeky comments about Tia having been literally dropped on her head, but it still leaves me slightly wary of the “pumpkin” seat. I listen hard for the handle to latch when they set me in it, and I’m trying to be cool and go to sleep, even though I’m wildly uncomfortable, and rather terrified.
I mean, take this photo, for example.
Do you see the terror on my face?!
Do you?!
This month, I’m linking up with The Nester for this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
Being in a deep, sound sleep and having someone lean down and kiss you right on the mouth over and over. It’s super-duper.
Okay I’m being sarcastic.
It’s actually pretty annoying.
I’d tell mom-lady to stop, but I don’t think she would listen. She keeps cooing about how fun it is to kiss baby lips.
*sigh*
I’m just gonna have to get used to it. At least if she’s kissing my face, she has me in her arms, and not on a sterile bed. So I still win.
Join me in this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
I have a love/hate relationship with swaddling. On the one hand, I feel all cozy and warm. It’s like I’m giving myself a long, gentle hug, and before I know it I’m out.
On the other hand, I know mom-lady is doing this because she intends to put me down, and I already told you I don’t like being put down. I feel her wrapping me up, pinning my arms to my side, and I resist. I kick, I scream, then my eyes get all heavy and I wake up four hours later.
IT’S LIKE A DRUG, THE SWADDLE BLANKET!
Plus, I feel a bit like a crazy person in a straight jacket, and I don’t think the swaddle is at all flattering to my cheeks.
Just kidding.
My cheeks are awesome. I know because everyone keeps saying so.
I wish they’d stop kissing and biting on them, though…
Join me in this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
The day I was born was…well, it was traumatic. First I was all warm and cozy, then –
BAM!
BRIGHT LIGHTS!
NOISE!
COLD!
WHY ARE YOU POKING ME?!
I started to panic, which is apparently cause for concern because my handlers were all, “Her breathing is elevated! We need to slow it down!”
Then they laid me on mom-lady’s chest and I was all, “HAPPY PLACE! HAPPY PLACE!”
So the handlers told mom-lady that she needed to hold me tight on her chest as much as possible for the first few weeks to make sure my breathing stays regulated.
Because apparently it’s wrong to give newborns Xanax.
Mom-lady keeps forgetting their strict instructions, though, and she tries to lay me down. Despite the fact that I am clearly in a deep and peaceful sleep in her arms, she seems to think that laying me down is appropriate because she has “things to do.”
Are those things more important than making sure I don’t have a panic attack?!
Joke’s on her, though, because every time she lays me down, I just cry and she picks me back up. Just between you and me, the bed she’s laying me in is rather cozy. I kind of like it, actually. But she doesn’t need to know that, because I like sleeping on her chest better.
I’m winning this fight.
Hehehehe…
Join me as I take The Nester’s 31 Day challenge and chronicle the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
On my third morning in this place they call home, mom-lady told dad that she had a dream. A couple named Brad Pitt and Angeline Jolie came to visit because, apparently, they wanted to meet me.
Mom-lady told dad that Angelina, or “Angie,” held me and coo’ed (people do that when they hold me) while she spoke with Brad about a movie called Romeo and Juliette, and whether or not some guy name Leonardo DiCaprio is a good actor.
Whatever the heck that means.
Dad picked me up and held me out in front of him. “I wonder if Brad and Angie wanted to adopt you,” he said, and they both laughed.
Frankly, I didn’t find that funny at all.
My parents are weird.
Join me in this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
I’m dictating my thoughts on life to the mom-lady telepathically while I nurse.
THAT’S RIGHT. I AM THAT GIFTED!
This is how I usually look when I’m giving the mom-lady the 4-1-1 on this thing called living:
To the untrained eye, I look like any other sleeping baby, but really I am a ninja of the mind. This is just my disguise.
Incidentally, I’m also hungry all the time, which means mom-lady and I are basically attached to one another. This gives me ample amounts of time to let her know all about how life is rolling along as I see it.
This mom-lady is actually handy to have around because all I have to do is let out a short wail and she’s at my beck and call. It’s awesome. So far it’s the best thing about living on the outside.
Eight days ago, I was wrapped tight in a cocoon. It was quiet and safe. No one poked me or stuck thermometer in my rear end (that was…different), or expected me to sleep for hours on end without nourishment.
Life on earth is scary.
But mom-lady is nice. So’s the guy they call “dad.” I like how he smells, but he doesn’t give me food, so he’s not my number one favorite. I have a feeling, though, that someday he will be super fun to hang around.
There are also three other people in this house with us. And a dog, but the dog ignores me, which is fine by me because from my vantage point she is just a giant hairy monster waiting to eat my face off.
I think I’m going to like the other three people, too. They kiss on me a lot, which is nice. Everybody likes to be kissed, right?
So for the next 31 Days, I’m going to be sharing what life looks like from my viewpoint. And mom-lady will be sharing pictures, because from what I can deduce, one of her hands has a built in camera attached to it.
My mom might be a robot…
Join me in this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
Day Eighteen: No, I didn’t blog again today. I had to watch my brothers play soccer, then go to my sister’s gymnastics meet. Baby life is exhausting. WHO HAS TIME TO BLOG EVERY DAY???!!!
This month, I’m linking up with The Nester for this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
