is it just me?

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

 

notes from the inside


The inside of my house, that is, where I spend entirely too much time. I have been meaning to post for ages, because funny things happen even when you're home all day with a tiny squalling baby. Or at least things that seem funny when you're home all day with no one to talk to.

El Segundo
I have decided that will be the blog name of my new baby. Baby Liz #2 just wasn't doing it for me, so he will henceforth be known as El Segundo. Only here, in life we won't give him such an inferiority complex. Anyway, he started off as kind of a wretched baby who cried and screamed a lot. It made us tired. And sad. And finally we decided to take him to the doctor, because maybe he just had a bad attitude, but on the off chance that it could be medicated I was quite interested. So, turns out that he had acid reflux which is basically killer heartburn. As someone who suffers mightily from heartburn while pregnant, the unpleasantness of this was fresh in my mind, so I felt his pain. Now he is much nicer. In a moment of desperation, I also took him to the chiropractor. He worked some voodoo on him which also seemed to help, and now he's a nice little happy baby. We love him. Isn't he cute?

customer disservice
Yesterday my phone rang, and the caller ID showed that it was my clinic. So I answered, and an electronic voice told me to hold. That's right - they called ME and then put me on HOLD. What on earth. After waiting a while, they tell me that no one is available to talk to me, so I have to call them back. So why did you call me? I mean, would you ever call someone and immediately say "I'm super busy, but call me back"? No you would not, because it makes no sense. So, in the process of telling me to call back, they give me my 'case number' which is about 8 billion digits long. Of course I don't get it written down because I didn't have a pen because I usually TALK to someone when I answer the phone. And they say it a grand total of one time. Stellar. Anyway, I called them back but was too tired to berate them about their stupid calling system. But not too tired to bore you people with the details! No sir, the lucky readers here get all the good stuff.

love on TV
As I mentioned earlier, I watch a fair bit of daytime tv. My kid likes nursing. A lot. I mean, it is his job, his hobby, what he does when he's not doing his job or his hobby. If he had his way he would do it all the time. So I will confess here that in a moment of boredom and total weakness (and before I started really making use of my DVR) I watched a show on VH1 (I think) called "Double Shot at Love". Now, I only saw about 15 minutes or so, and was not entirely clear about what was going on. However, it appears to be a dating show where the people that everyone is dating (the equivalent of the bachelor) are bisexual twins who have had copious amounts of plastic surgery. Seriously. So, clearly no one is actually going to fall in love because that is about the most outrageous thing. I think they just pick one twin, and the twins are trying to act like they actually care about winning which of course they don't. And I know it's not really supposed to be about finding love, but the whole thing was so outrageous that it almost made me sick. I mean, they take the twins home to meet their families? And are like "Hey, I'm dating bisexual twins!" And one girl decided this was the right time to come out to her family. On TV. It is really, truly awful. Oh, and just in case the whole thing wasn't outrageous enough, the twins wore stripper outfits to meet this dude's mom. And the guy is like "The outfits were perfect." Yeah, perfect for the world's most disturbing show which appears to have no redeeming qualities. Maybe if the people were funny or interesting or something it could at least be enjoyable, but after 15 minutes I decided I could not waste a single other second of my life watching. And that is saying something, as the vast majority of my days are wasted doing very, very little.

The Bachelor isn't going to find anyone either. Fortunately I have not stooped to watching that trash, but I saw an interview with him and allegedly he's in love and it's FOR REAL people, but you know what? He met her on TV in a fancy house with lots of liquor, and somehow I just don't think it's going to work out. But good luck to them all.

octomom
If you think you find the mom of the octuplets interesting, just try being on maternity leave and bored. You will be obsessed. You will spend hours out of every day wondering why anyone could ever think for one single second that it would be great to have eight newborns at once. Because let me tell you, newborns are not that much fun. And you know what is less fun than one newborn? Two. And you know what is less fun than that? Eight. Especially when you have six other children under the age of 7. That is nothing short of pure insanity, and that is why I spend so much brain power trying to figure out why on earth she would do such a thing. I will sit here and be very glad that both of my kids came one at a time and that there are only two of them. And no matter what happens in my life it is not possible that there will ever be 14 of them. Ever.

big
So, fortunately I am not that big anymore. Bigger than I used to be, but compared to December 6 I am a waif. But the lady at work who was so fond of telling me how big I was on a regular basis is now pregnant. And I am pretty disappointed that my maternity leave is costing me three good months of making her feel like shit about how she looks. She is also annoyingly OCD and emails me silly questions about carseats and pediatricians. Look, we're not friends. You're weird and not very nice. So I am glad that now you feel we can bond about babies and big bellies, and the like, but I really am not in the mood to talk you off the ledge about whether or not you should drink coffee or whatever. I have Double Shot of Love on the DVR. I am very busy.

the usual
It was humiliating enough when I was just a regular at the campus grill. But I will admit here that I have developed quite a fondness for McDonald's (well, I always had it but have been indulging it recently) and I think the guy there recognizes me. This is horrible. I need to stop. Even worse, he gave me this creepy look the other day like the thought I was flirting with him. Um...no. The look on my face is the utter humiliation that you know me and my special McDonald's order. Boo to wiscolizard. The thing is when you have a tiny baby you have a newfound love for drive-thrus. Anything that saves you from lugging that horrible carseat around. Especially when it's cold. Why can't GOOD restaurants have drive-thrus? Perhaps because good food doesn't fit neatly in a bag?

shoot. I had a bunch more things that I wanted to post in here and now I have forgotten. I definitely need a notebook now that my brain is being sucked out of my boobs drop by drop (that's a scientific fact. look it up on wikipedia.) and I can't remember where my car keys are even when I am driving. If I remember you all will be the first to know.

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