Rise of the Machines

Temple has been asleep since 2:30.  What did I do with my baby down time?  Did I write poetry in my journal?  Did I prepare a delicious and healthy meal for my husband and dogs?  Did I sit on the sun porch and read spiritual literature?  No, and we don't have a sun porch.  I put together another contraption for Temple.  It is a Baby Einstein Musical Jumper dealy.  It only took me two hours to put it together.  I think she'll like it.  Personally, I find it boring, but it was made for a 4 month old, and I am 357 months old.  

Contraptions to hold and entertain the child have begun to take over my house.  I say begun, because I fear there is more to come.  Our house is small.  There is Matt and my small bedroom, and Temple has a little room, and we have a large main room, a closet, laundry room, bathroom, and fabulous new kitchen, and that's that.  This new one claims to "fold flat," but that's horse manure because it doesn't fold, you have to take it apart.  I don't like clutter.  Physical clutter makes my mind cluttered.  I think at some point I'll snap and set fire to all our possessions in the front yard.  Use the ashes for compost.

Chatty

In the last week, this girl has discovered her voice.  She practices her vowels all day, and very loudly.  She needs to work on consonants, then she'll be in business.

More Sads

I weigh about 35 pounds less now than I did just before giving birth.  I am a pound or two below my pre-pregnancy weight.  I was feeling so good about my weight loss that I forgot I was tubby pre-pregnancy.  I decided to buy a nice pair of jean shorts from J. Crew.  They had that summery cut-off look, you know?  So, yesterday, my mom came over to Temple-sit, and I hauled my cookies to the mall and got a pedicure, then shuffled over to J. Crew to get my new shorts.  They didn't have my size (Big McLarge Huge), so I tried on a smaller size (normal), and as I examined my cottage cheese thighs in the florescent lights, I said, "well, f this," and bought a $55 hoodie instead.  I do like my hoodie though.
I resolve to not to pass this self-loathing on to my perfect daughter.

Late Night Early Morning

I live to sleep.  I was born tired.  Yet, I have recently found myself less irritated by late night feedings.  Temple and I have gotten pretty good at it.  She has been latching right on, and needing very little formula to top her off before settling back in for the sleep home stretch.  Two months ago, Temple would have to get herself pretty worked up crying before I could be convinced to get out of bed.  It was just hard for me.  I would let her go for so long (we're talking ten minutes.  I didn't actually let my baby go hungry.) that by the time we got up, she was too hungry to eat.  We had to spend time calming her down.  Now, I wake up around 1:30 am, whether Temple is up or not.  I've considered waking her up to get it out of the way so we can all go back to bed.  The past few days, she has made it from 8:30 pm to past 3:00 am.  During those early morning hours of wakefulness, I almost look forward to the feeding.  Temple is starting to make noises that very closely resemble vowels, and she likes to make them when she is being changed and when she is sated from a feeding.  It's really cute.  

The Chipmunk and the Squirrel

     You know how when people get their tongues pierced, their moms are always like, "you're stupid and you're going to crack your tooth on it and then you'll have to pay to have it fixed!"  Well, in 2001, 4 years after I got my tongue pierced (underaged, using my sister's ID in high school.  When I was signing the waiver, I had to scratch out the first signature I made because I forgot to sign her name.  Turns out I was stupid, just like my mom said, but the artists at Jinx Proof in Georgetown didn't give a care.  Way to mind the law, dudes.  I wonder if they would have cared more if I were getting a tattoo, because tattoos are really permanent, and piercings really aren't.), I cracked my tooth on it, just like my mom said, as I was walking down P street from my job at Soho Tea and Coffee in Dupont.  I was chewing on a caramel, then I was chewing on metal, and cracked half my tooth clean off.  The free half got stuck in the caramel, and it was totally gross.
     I guess I got it fixed soon after, then sometime around 2005, the fix failed, and I had to have it done again.  It was never quite right after that.  It was sensitive to heat, cold, and foods firmer than bread, and from time to time it throbbed for no reason or sent random bolts of pain into my brain.  In 2008, some wisdom teeth were coming in and shifting my choppers around, and it started hurting real bad.  At my emergency dental appointment, the good doctor recommended I have the sucker extracted and he made the referral.  Shortly thereafter, the shifting ended, the pain ended, and my interest in oral health ended.
     Last week, the tooth, whom I had come to know as #3, started aching again, and, wanting to set a good example for my daughter, I decided it was time to exorcise that demon.  I got the referral again, and made an appointment for 3 weeks hence.  I thought if the pain went away again, like it had a few years ago, I would cancel.
     5 days ago, I began waking up with headaches that diminished during the day, but never completely dissapeared.
     3 days ago, I woke up with an awful ache in my jaw, and I ate 25 over the counter analgesic pills.
     2 days ago, it was even worse.  Analgesics no longer working.
     Yesterday, my dentist gave me a prescription for Vicoprofen, a mix of Vicodin and Ibuprofen (yes, like croissandwich, Bennifer, jeggings, and shart) to "tide me over" for the three weeks until my surgery.  My resourceful sister also hooked me up with ballistic 600mg Ibuprofen (which is like Vicoprofen without the Vicodin).  When, last night, for the first time in months, I was not awakened by hungry daughter, but by screaming, throbbing gums, pain radiating to my high cheekbone, and swelling like I was sucking on an everlasting gobstopper, I decided that this was finally a problem that required attention.
     The surgeon took me in for an emergency appointment.  My dutiful mother dropped everything to meet me at the office to mind Temple, who was an excellent baby as always.  I was looking forward to general anesthesia, but because not even the worst toothache in history will keep me from my morning coffee, general anesthesia was counter-indicated.  You have to have an empty stomach.  Instead, they gave me twilight anesthesia, like they used to give to laboring women before the dawn of the epidural.  I guess its that kind that makes you forget the whole thing after, like Sylvia Plath bemoaned in "The Bell Jar," because I don't remember a damned thing.  It was probably like that episode of Mad Men, too.
     My mom drove my groggy ass home, got my prescriptions filled, and brought me some soft foods.  I am adjusting to my new mouthscape.  The good doctor removed the offending molar and all 4 wisdom teeth.  It feels like a city block was razed in there.  I've heard horror stories about recovery from oral surgery, but my mouth hasn't felt this good in years.  Thank you, pain killers.  Thank you, Mom, for making this catharsis possible.  And, you were right about the tongue ring: twelve years later, I did have to pay to have it fixed.  And when I say "I," I mean "you."  Thanks again.
My cheek is still a little swollen, though.  See?
 

Ma'husband and Child

At left, Raphael's Madonna and Child.  At right, Krista's Matt and Temple.  The similarities in use of light and color, as well as the beatific expressions on the infants, have lead art historians to speculate that these works were actually created by the same artist.  In fact, the picture of Matt and Temple was taken with the iPhone Renaissance-a-matic App.