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Wednesday, August 24, 2005

The baby sitter



It has officially been 6 weeks. Last night I had my post partum OB appointment. It was so different from all my recent visits. Besides for the obvious-not being pregnant- difference, there was the fact that the waiting room was noticeably cold, a big improvement from my last visit. Also, I think their scale must be broken. During subsequent visits the scale seemed to effectively show proper weight gain in accordance with the growth of my child. This time, I anxiously stepped on the scale in hopes of seeing a tremendous weight loss. Unfortunately, I weigh not much less then I did before July 8th. So basically all I really lost is the 6 lbs 7 oz. of my dear Estee. Wasn't there other stuff in me that's supposed to weigh also? That might explain why none of my clothes, even my fat clothes, fit! (I still think the scale is broken...) Designers are nice enough to make maternity clothes but no one ever told me I'd need post-partum clothes! I have to go out and buy a small wardrobe now? how ridiculous! I absolutely refuse to wear maternity clothes because the way they fit makes me look pregnant and my ego does not need people asking me "so when are you due?" I think I will use the above two photos as my hope that someday I will look like that again (pic on left is 8 months pregnant).
Anyway, I digress....
Aaron was the official babysitter for last night. It's funny, when I'm with Estee, I'm just a mom, when Aaron is alone with her, it's babysitting. I also, unfortunately treated him as just that. Before leaving I made sure to review all the rules and nighttime routine. I'm surprised I didn't leave him with emergency phone numbers on the fridge. When I was finally confident that he knew what he was doing, I left. On my way home I called to check in. "I'm about to give her a bath," he said. I proceeded to warn him about all the dangers involved and warned him about leaving her unattended. Aaron has this way of acting like he is clueless and incompetant when in actuallity he is fully aware. Unfortunately this is not very good for my nerves!
My birthday is in two days, I didn't even realize! The other day my mother asked me what I want. I looked at her puzzled and said, "shouldn't you be the one celbrating this year? I mean, what did I really do that deserves gifts? I should get gifts on July 8th." Seriously, as much as I always love being the center of attention on my birthday, what did I do? My mother suffered 9 months of vomiting hell, excruciating contractions and pushing me out (naturally I might add) All I did was announce my arrival with a cry. This year I vow to buy my mother a card on my birthday. It's only fair. But what I really want? A night of uninterupted sleep...

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