Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











{January 30, 2010}   Frosty the Snowman…

was a jolly happy soul! With a corncob pipe and a button nose… Oh, sorry. You caught me singing. I’m soooo glad to be home. Hi all, Fletcher here! Me and Mommy had to spend the night at Uncle F’s and Aunt E’s house last night, on account of all that cold white stuff that makes the whole city of Nashville shut down, people drive like idiots, and go on Kroger alert. Kroger is where Mommy gets my dipeys and people look at me and love me. Mommy was talking about people who slow down going up hills in the snow and ice and big trucks and jacknifes. She was just glad to get to Uncle F’s house with no boo-boos. She was afraid to drive home with me though, cause I’m all special and everything. Naturally, I fully expect them to make my birthday a national holiday soon. (I’ll have to share the same week as Pearl Harbor Day, so we’ll have to see. Maybe I can get one of those ‘observed’ days, like George Washington and have my own week. I’d hate to have to work at being the center of attention.) So Mommy got to sleep in Aunt E’s fat clothes. She’s afraid the clothes might never snap back into shape, though. Shhh, don’t tell anyone, but Mommy’s just a teensy couple of sizes bigger than Aunt E. She doesn’t really like to talk about it. She just hoped no one ran into her and the ambulance had to come, cause she did not have clean underwear this morning. I don’t own any man-panties yet, so it didn’t matter if mine were clean or not. But I bothered everybody about it, just in case they were interested.



{January 25, 2010}   Well, remember

that plantar’s wart I was telling you about? Well, I went to the podiatrist last Monday. That man is not right. He asked me about the baby, since the last time he saw me I had swallowed a watermelon seed, and then asked if I was nursing. “Everybody’s nursing these days! My DIL was hooked up to that milking contraption the other night! It’s like they’re a bunch of cows! Muurrrrrrrrm!” I couldn’t help but giggle. He told me that I’m the exception to the rule. Normally, when women get pregnant, the hormones kill the warts. Yeah, not me. Mine proliferate. *sigh* He said that if this didn’t take care of them, we’d have to go in for some anesthesia and do it in the OR. Well, ok, I guess. I’m just tired of them.



{January 25, 2010}   Can Daddy have some time?

THIS. This is what my husband said to my son earlier today. Ever want to take a frying pan/ballbat/rolling pin to your significant other’s head? The baby was fussy (=wet, but Daddy was ignoring that cause the baby just had to be hungry so he wouldn’t have to change him, even though I suggested he check his diaper twice) and Daddy couldn’t get away from him to do anything. And he wonders why I can barely get the laundry done, much less any housework.

In other news, I had my OB appt last week, so we’re all birth-controlled up, however energy, libido, and time are all a bit elusive right now, as is sleep. So YCU is grumpy. He did bring me breakfast this am though, so I’ll try to accommodate, I suppose. Sorry I’ve been MIA, but I couldn’t get to the laptop cause the YCU was “doing something” every time I tried. *irritated sigh* Oh, update on the last post: No more constipation. The baby’s been getting only breast milk cause YCU is afraid of all formula now. He just can’t get it through his thick head that it was the formula contents that caused it, not all formula. The first week back at work wasn’t bad. I have an interview tomorrow at a surgery center. I really want more money, no call, Monday-Friday, possibly a management position, and benefits. I’ll have to see if it will work out. My child smiled at me!! Pics to follow!



{January 20, 2010}   First day back…

wasn’t so bad. They were nice and let me work in my comfort zone, general surgery. They let me out to pump, and I got lunch. I had people asking me if I thought I would cry, but I didn’t. I left him with my husband (who thinks every time the kid squalls he’s hungry), so that wasn’t so bad. The bad thing was when I called at lunch time and he said he’d not slept all day because he was gassy. He tried to blame it on something I ate. Ok. I don’t think so. I have a pretty strict repertoire of food choices. I’m the pickiest eater on the planet. When we go out, I’ll try something my husband orders if I’m feeling adventurous, rather than ordering it myself, cause he’ll eat whatever doesn’t eat him first, and I won’t, but I digress. A couple of days ago, he opened another sample can of formula (because he’s under the misguided delusion that my breastmilk just isn’t enough; funny, at night and all day when he sleeps, he seems to do fine with it.) and made a supplementary bottle. I looked at the can later on when I was cleaning and it said 9-24 months. Dear God. I showed him and told him not to use it for fear of making the baby sick, but Mr I-know-everything-about-babies looked at the ingredients and decided that a few points difference in concentration wasn’t any difference at all. Yeah, to you and me. For a baby? He hasn’t pooped all day. He didn’t poop all night last night. He’s blocked up, which is why he has the excess gas. I told him to give him the mylecon and feed him some of the stored breast milk when it was time again, the better to digest, I hope. Some of the women at work suggested dark karo syrup and water mixture, and to take a warm washcloth and massage his rectum. I told the YCU this, and his response? “IIiiii think I’ll just feed him the breast milk and let it pass naturally.” He’s got a real aversion to checking the dipey, for some reason. He’s always suggesting to feed him, but when you check the dipey, he’s just wet. That’s all. Chicken. I think he’s afraid of poop. I also think he’s learned his lesson about reading cans and not taking for granted that just because it has the same ingredients that concentration doesn’t matter. The baby’s sleeping now. Hopefully, when I check him later, the baby will have pooped and will feel better. Poor baby. I missed him. I’m so glad to be home.



{January 16, 2010}   What is it with…

men in McDonald’s? Seriously? They must smell the fries and get all hot and bothered. I had a guy try to walk me to my car and carry my sack for me. It was a sausage McMuffin and a Dr. Pepper. I’m not kidding. It was kinda cute, you know like the puppy dogs disguising themselves as teenage boys that pick you up for school, drive you home, carry your books, let you wrap strings/ribbons around their class rings so you can wear them on your biggest finger or maybe just around your neck on a chain, etc. Do they carry your books anymore? I don’t know. We wore their coats, class rings, and all that hokey stuff. Anyway, it did somewhat make my day. I know, a few weeks ago this same thing happened and I was grossed out, but that guy was like, my dad’s age. Creepy. This guy was sorta hot. *giggles to self* (Cue Trace Adkins:One hot maaama… Ahem. Sorry. I promise, I thanked him and politely refused. Anyway, I start back to work on Wednesday. *sigh* I’m not worried about the baby, he’ll be in capable hands. Not worried much, anyway. I’m more worried about how much breast milk to send with him and how he’ll react to a new environment. Hopefully, he’ll behave and not give SIL a hard time. I love my job. I was meant to do my job. But if I could stay home with him full time, they’d never see my happy ass again. Ever.



{January 13, 2010}   Sweet Relief!!

Well, I am broke. Just no extra money. Then I got my disability check for maternity leave. Then I went to the maternity store with every intention of tying a bow in the back if I could find a bra with the appropriate sized cups. I’m not sure where these bras were before, but they found me a sports bra like thing with a t-shirt style back, and some stays for support in the cups. Keeps everything in place without overflowing. Not perfect, but such a relief! It was getting bad. Every time I leaned over, I’d have to ‘readjust’. I was leaking because everything was moving around. Yeah, the puppies were breaking loose. Now, no chance. I had to tie a string around the straps to keep them on my shoulders. Yeah, I know, it was ghetto, but what’s a broke girl to do? Feels soooo much better now.

In other news, Fletcher’s starting to smile at us!! Sooo sweet. He’s just ridiculously beautiful, but I’ll admit my perspective may be a bit skewed. Especially since he looks like his mama!! 😉 He’s starting to stay awake during the day more, and sleep more at night, so that’s been nice. I try not to run to him everytime he rolls over, cause I figure sometimes he may just be stirring and going back to sleep. Hopefully he’ll be sleeping through the night soon. I’ll let you know how that works out. My MIL is behaving for now, and I’ve had a couple of good days. Maybe she’s afraid I’ll ban her from the premises if she acts up. I’m not an equine dentist, I promise.



I’ve been reading an awful lot about this de-lurking week, and now I’m curious. I didn’t think I had anyone who read me that didn’t comment, but maybe I do. I promise I’ve had all my shots and I only nibble when provoked! Let me know who you are! (If no one comments, I’m gonna be very embarrassed.)



{January 7, 2010}   That went well. I think.

Ok, while I’ve been off on maternity leave, I’ve been researching the job market. Just curious, maybe looking for something new, right? Well, I applied for a sales position with a medical equipment company and do you know they called me within 30 minutes? After an online app!! At first, I thought, wow, they must have really liked my resume. Then, reality set in. Hmmm…I thought. If they called me back that fast, they must either be desperate, or NO ONE wants this job. Hmmm…I thought. So, I went through the phone interview process, and was told that the hiring manager would contact me if I was thought to be a suitable…blah, blah, blah. Then, an hour later, the hiring manager calls me to set up a phone interview for the next day. With her. Why didn’t she just do it right then? Counter-productive, anyone? Anyway, so she called me this morning, and we had a nice chat, albeit with some distractions. Her dog escaped, my child needed multiple boob attachments, my phone tried to die, you name it. She basically just wanted to know how I did in nursing school, what I was like in high school (WTF? Weird.), what was I looking for in a position, etc. I answered that I was not impressed with nursing school, give me the nitty-gritty, no fluff, (nursing school is alllll about some fluff. Completely useless fluff.) I was Hermione Granger in high school (yeah, front row, hand in the air, snotty know-it-all), and that I was just looking for something different, more money…basically mundane blah answers. She told me she was impressed with my experience, and we bonded somewhat over some amusing anecdotes from both our careers (she was a nurse as well), and then she tells me the bad news. I would be required to be away from home overnight for 8-10 (most likely 10) weeks for training, only to come home on the weekends. I have a new baby, I’m nursing, I have husband that works nights, and childcare that I don’t want to put out or take advantage of because she’s already doing me such a huge favor for peanuts in pay. WTF. Seriously? Man. If I were single, or didn’t just have a baby, this would probably be ok, albeit irritating/annoying. Now? Not an option. Probably excellent pay and benefits though. Big company and all that. The only way I could do this would be if they could arrange for childcare for me, (for a very reasonable price), and if the benefits were to start on day 1, and if the pay was an offer I just couldn’t refuse. Like say $80-$90,000 a year. Maybe. Maybe more than that, and it would have to be salaried. Guaranteed, none of this commission bull. She told me to think on it, get back to her, and that if now wasn’t the right time, that it didn’t mean that the door was closed. She said they hire 20-30 new reps every year. Hmmm….high turnover rate, anyone? Hmmm….



{January 6, 2010}   It’s genetic.

Hi, all! Fletcher, here. I went to the mean place today, where they made me cold, gave me a shot in the thigh, and generally bothered me. The only good thing that happened was I gained 1.5lbs, and grew to 20.5 inches! Mommy says I’m something called an ‘overachiever’. I don’t know what it is, but it sounds good! The shot made my belly not feel good, and I ‘expressed myself’ all over Daddy! Mommy found that particularly funny. But it scored me my second bath for the day. *sigh* Gotta go!



{January 3, 2010}   Piss on clothes.

Hello, again, world, Fletcher here. I’ve gained a few opinions since we last spoke. I like my swing! I’ll sleep in it all night, till I get hungry/wet/poopy. I also like my vibrating rocker. I don’t like getting dressed or my diaper changed, but I like being warm. This creates quite the conundrum for Mommy, since I have to have one to have the other. Bath is a four letter word. Unless I’m asleep, or Daddy’s in there with me. Then I seem to like them fine. I think all my clothes look good bathed in Yellow!! Be that yellow from the front or the back, I don’t care. My hair sticks straight up after my bath, but I make spikes look good, don’t worry. I am a master belcher/farter. Oh, yeah. I grin the whole time. If it feels good, do it, I say. I pay lots of attention to things in bright colors and Mommy said something about some baby named ‘Einstein’? Not sure what she’s talking about there, but I’m sure she’ll let me know. I was trying to burp myself the other day, and Mommy got in the way. See, she put me up on her shoulder, but she didn’t know I was trying to take care of things sans help, and I thrashed one way, and her collarbone went the other, smacking me in the nose. I didn’t like this, not at all. Mommy covered her eyes and said something about DCS showing up after only 3 weeks, but I recovered and went on to activate my food retrieval alarm spectacularly. Well, that’s been my week in review. I got to go see the mean people again who make me cold and stick stuff in my booty on Wednesday. Apparently, they’re the only people who can tell if I’ve gotten bigger, which I HAVE. My feet reach all the way to my footies in my pj’s now. I’ll let you know how it goes.



et cetera