Vegas, BABY!

Before I begin, I just want to give a shout-out to Alan from The Hangover, who provides my husband with the inspiration to re-enact the baby spanking the monkey scene from the movie...daily. Thanks.

Those of you who know me well also know that Matt and I love the occasional, er, frequent, trip to Las Vegas. Normally, we book a last-minute deal on a Thursday, sneak off to adult play land for the weekend, and come home spent (ha, get it?) first thing Monday morning. We eat, we shop, we play some cards, and we have a great time in the desert. We've been going through sin-city withdrawal and made the (probably poor) decision to book a little get-a-way next week.

In preparation for Ari's first vacation, a few thoughts and questions...

*Will the video monitor work in the casino? I'm kidding people. Don't call DSS. I would never think of leaving my baby in the room, with the do not disturb sign on the door, if the monitor does, in fact, show a clear picture of my sleeping boy.

*I've been emailing Craigslist ad posters all morning trying to find a "little lamb" baby swing to buy (and have delivered) when we arrive on the Strip. My nightwaker loves to catch his 4-7am zzz's while rocking side-to-side in the cuddly seat. I hope JetBlue lets us bring it on board for our red-eye flight home.

*My parents will be travelling with us to help out for the week. Oh how our lives have changed. We used to keep these little weekend excursions on the down-low ("our cell phones were off? hmm we must have been in a tunnel...for 6 hours") and now my mom and dad are coming to assist this mom and dad.

*Which is trashier: visiting Vegas with a bun in the belly or visiting with a baby in the bjorn? I will have done both.

*To outfit Ari for the fashionable town, I ordered Ed Hardy onesies. I've officially lost my mind. Matt made me do it.

*In order to keep baby AJ on East Coast time, he will be going to sleep at 4pm and waking at 4am. This means, I will be going to sleep at midnight and waking up at 4am. Good thing my schedule won't change.

*The hotel recommends a babysitting service that costs $45/hr but "it's a good deal because they're insured." Does this mean that if they accidentally drop my baby or take him for a joy ride to their casa, the hotel will replace him for free?

Wish me luck! I'm betting on a crazy week.

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A few random thoughts

The dryer eats baby socks too.

I still have a brown vertical line running the entire length of my tummy.

I enjoy picking wax out of Ari's ears, boogers out of his nose, and white slimey goop out of his eyes.

We call Ari's weiner "Winklevoss" after the twins who "came up with Facebook." (Team Zuckerberg all the way!!)

I'm going gray.

I wish I was a Kardashian.

My kid will never wear overalls. (I feel the need to apologize for offending you. I received your emails. Dress your kid however you like. Holmes on Homes.)

Last weekend I was getting a massage and the masseuse asked if I had been punched in the face because my circles are so dark.

Ari's twin is still in my a$$. I hope it's a girl.

Brad Womack would be a fool not to choose Chantal O. Did you see her parent's house? Ka-ching!

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Eau de Bebe

My baby smells delicious. It's not just the after bath fragrance (oh Mustela how I love thee) that makes me nose dive into the nooks and crannies all over his bod, or the Dreft detergent (what a scam! ...Umm, when do I admit that I wash my clothing in it now too so that I can smell like my little muffin all day long?) that has me sniffing out every inch of his onesies. I was surprised to detect the aroma of a few of my favorite foods on and around my boy in the a.m. First, his little hands often smell like swiss cheese, particularly in the morning after he breaks free from his swaddle. At 7pm, his hands go in perfumed with baby wash but come out at 7am with a scent that I want to add to my eggs. Next, his little tush is incredibly delectable as a graham cracker odor is always hidden in his diaper. No clue what causes this unique scent, but it makes me want to eat his little cheeks as a side dish to my swiss cheese omelet. And finally, the addictive smell of a crave-worthy snack food emanates from not only his diaper but from the diaper genie...salty, buttered popcorn. Baby tinkle is synonymous with every one's least favorite jelly belly flavor and most favorite movie nosh. Now I understand why mothers say they could just "eat their baby up"!

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Mexican Shower

Since giving birth, I have been a tad lax with my cleanliness...or, I should say, lack thereof. If I can't smell myself, I must not be dirty, and if my hair isn't itchy, I really shouldn't take the time to shampoo it. But this past weekend, things got a bit outta hand. Sunday morning at 10am I returned home from the gym sporting a lovely glisten and smelling of dirty socks. And Monday evening at 8pm, 34 hours and 1 night sleep later, I was still wearing my workout clothes (ahem, and same undies). I need an intervention. Ok, I really just need a shower.

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swapping spit

There's nothing worse than saliva. I cringe when I hear someone sucking a lollipop, I dry heave when I feel someone spray it when they say it, and I gag when I see someone's spit when they eat. But perhaps most disgusting of all, I cannot even stomach the thought of french kissing. (I've got issues. Whatever. Matt doesn't complain.) Even writing this post is making my stomach turn and my face grimace.

Imagine my surprise when I actually enjoyed swapping spit for the very first time...with my baby. No, not like that sick-o. The baby salivates more than Pavlov's dogs. He drips drool on my face, down my shirt, and all over my hands. He sucks my fingers, shoulders, and any other body part that goes near his mouth. And, everytime I lift him up (imagine a push up with a baby) a glob of spit drips from his puckered lips right into my mouth. Not only do I not mind getting to first base with my tot, I sorta like it. I hear the saliva faucet really turns on when the baby starts to teethe. I hope Matt doesn't get jealous.

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Milk & Milkbones

Raising a baby reminds me of the early years with my childhood dog. Sugar, a bichon frise http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/bichonfrise.htm, was a little bitch (ha, get it?) who lived to be 16 years old. I vividly remember the car ride from the breeder's house after we bought her. She, 8 weeks, and I, 8 years, were both terrified and cried the whole way home. It sounds exactly like the ride from the hospital on October 31. Petrified, exhausted, and hormonally imbalanced, I sobbed from the moment I left the maternity ward to the moment I arrived at my front door.

Is it just me, or are babies and puppies pretty similar? It's not just a taste for milk and milkbones that babies and puppies share. Babies and puppies...

2. Are pretty freakin' cute.

3. Like to play with chew toys that squeak

4. Cry at night when they need food/potty/attention

5. Have ridiculously soft skin/fur

6. Need constant grooming

7. Like to take naps on your lap

8. Eat a lot

9. Poop & pee a lot

10. Want to play when we want them to sit still in our lap so we can pet them

11. Have blond hair and blue eyes (Sugar and AJ specifically)

12. Learn tricks like how to roll over

13. Are very expensive

14. Go for walks daily

15. Get potty trained

16. Sleep in a box

17. Get spoken to in an annoying high-pitched voice (i'm guilty!)

18. Are pet by strangers

19. Receive nicknames (We called Sugar "Booger" - and, my bro and I also renamed her Buffy to be funny (middle school humor) and she answered to both Sugar and Buffy til the day she died

20. Have owners/parents who think they are the cutest, smartest, most advanced of their species!

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Overheard in my "Baby & Me" class

I receive a weekly email with information on my current # of week old baby. There's a section in each e-news called "Overheard in my birth club" and I thank BabyCenter.com for giving me the idea for this post. I take 3-4 "baby and me" classes a week (excessive, I agree). In one of my classes last week, one of the women announced that she had "leaked pee" at a trampoline class earlier in the week. (This was the same woman who asked the facilitator at the first class, "Is it okay if I let my baby watch TV all day because I don't know what else to do with him?") I am the queen of crossing the line, making inappropriate comments, and sharing TMI, however, I was shocked when this new mom let everyone know about her embarrassing event.

That said, I'm ready to come clean. I can empathize and I can relate and I'm here to admit that I leaked pee too!! I tried to jump rope at the gym and every time I jumped up, I felt a little tinkle drip into my panties (a quick shout out to my friend Lisie who cringes every time she hears the word "panties"). There's only one way to cure myself of this dripping dilemma - I need to strengthen my pelvic floor muscles. And there's no better way to do this than with Dr. Ruth's favorite exercise - the kegel! I did a quick google on kegel exercises and I found out that the kegel is named for Dr. Arnold Kegel (my dad's name is Arnold too! Coincidence?! I think not) and I came across the site http://www.kegelmasters.com/. With taglines like "live laugh love" and the "miracle for women" and a celebrity endorsement from Teri Hatcher who claims, "Every woman should have a kegelmaster", I know this is the solution for me. I am indeed a desperate housewife and I would be a fool not to order one for myself. Check out the Kegelmaster 2000 - I guess I'll just force myself to workout daily.

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cottage cheese

I was beginning to get a bit of a complex. Everyone who sees my baby and knows my husband says, "oh my gosh, he looks exactly like Matt." To be fair, both baby and daddy do have reddish blond hair and a fair complexion, and perhaps share some similar facial features. I have been analyzing baby AJ for any sign of likeness to me, and last night, I finally found it! The baby and I have identical dimples on our thighs and ass. It's obviously genetic since there's no other reason my glutes and hamstring are covered in a layer of cellulite (disregard the previous post about the cannoli's) and I can guarantee my mom is plagued with the same lumpy tush. Ari and I are most definitely related - what a relief!

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Why is this shit so funny?! (pun intended)

I've always been amused by poop. It's amazing that we all do it and we rarely discuss it. Jews tend to talk shit (double entendre!) often because most of us are lactose intolerant and discussing our bowels with one another is therapeutic. Yet, we all try our hardest to poop in private and keep our own sound effects a secret. I could talk about bm's all day, but I dread having to go #2 in public. 14 weeks ago, poop became a focal point of my existence, and I gotta admit...I love it.

There's nothing better than the sound of a baby making a poop. My little boy has gone hundreds of times in the last 14 weeks and I still chuckle every single time I hear him poo. I am constantly amazed that a tiny being can create such a loud explosion in their diaper. To make it even funnier, the baby has no idea that poop is such a taboo topic for adults, and their innocent disregard for polite adult behavior makes the loud sound of their movement even that much funnier.

Babies eat the same thing all day long. Yet, the number of times and amount they poop changes daily. Even the color and consistency can change. I am fascinated by this concept and intrigued by the digestion and excretion processes. And I'm not alone - moms love monitoring their kid's poops. One girl in my 'baby and me' group said she saves middle of the night dirty diapers so she can inspect the poop in the morning. I haven't gone that far...but it sounds like a great idea.

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Baby bulimia

I'm not sure why babies spit up. It takes a lot of time and effort for them to eat and then in a split second, they lose half their meal. I'm not worried about growth since my baby is not wasting away (hello you squishy 15 pound 3 month old), but I am worried about our sofas, hardwood floors, and clothing. The poor kid lives in a bib (so his mom doesn't have to change his clothes 10 times a day) and we invested a lot of money in his designer duds! Last week, I heard my husband exclaim, "Ari, that's cashmere!" and I knew that my little boy had ralphed all over Dad's sweater. One of my friends recently got the "mom hair cut" to prevent soiled hair. Wet tresses don't bother me anymore. I wait a few hours and just brush out the crunchy bits. But, I can't wait til he keeps everything down and no longer feel the gush of warm milky goodness running down my arm/leg/chest/neck/etc.

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I miss being pregnant

Don't get me wrong, I love my baby more and more every day, but being pregnant sure did have its perks. And, now that I'm actually with my baby, rather than "with" baby, I realize how cushy the 9 months were.

1. Strangers love pregnant women. Everywhere I went, people would smile at me. Old women would coo, young women would grin and ask when I was due, and even men would light up at the sight of a pregnant chick (my theory here is that they equate pregnant women with sex and that gets them excited). Everyone was eager to help - open the door, carry groceries, hold the elevator, give me their spot in line, etc. Now-a-days, these same strangers avert their eyes as soon as they see the stroller approach. They pretend not to see me while pushing "close door" as fast as possible in the elevator before I can disturb their sacred space, they give dirty looks if my baby dares make a peep in public, and they pray I don't join them on an airplane.

2. The 3 c's - Cake, Chocolate, Cannoli's. (Cannoli's are high in calcium which is good for pregnant women, plus, the bigger my belly got, the skinnier my legs looked. Incredible.)

3. I couldn't shave my legs. Too much effort. (Ok, let's be honest, it's still too much effort.)

4. I couldn't have sex. Too much effort. (See #3)

5. Expectant mother parking. I loved it at the time, but this is such a joke. Do retail establishments believe it's harder for a woman to get to their front door carrying around an extra 10lbs in her gut or for a woman carrying a stroller, carseat, diaperbag, and baby?


Here's the one thing I don't miss - the hemmorhoids. Sorry people. I didn't get a push present. I got a 9 months of tushie torture present. Thanks honey.

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