Aimless rambling....

My preemie is quickly approaching his due date and therefore the sleepy little bundle is suddenly awake a LOT and apparently exercising whatever muscles one uses for screaming bloody murder. Also, we have developed a new pasttime--spitting up. Not just a little dribble here and there. Oh, no. I'm talking "did you even EAT that much??!!" spitting up, after every meal. So add the reguritation of mama's milk to her pre-existing "is he getting enough; where are my see-through boobs?!" anxiety and mama is basically a big old basket case, obsessed with the idea that her little boy is starving to death--regardless of the wet, poopy diapers he continues to present to us with tremendous pride (symbolized by his insistance that he spray what can only be described as a triumphant stream of pee all over the place the moment we remove his diaper--if this were an olympic sport, no judge could give him less than a perfect 10 for this.)

Ah, the joy of it all.

I won't dwell on my growing neuroses about my child's eating habits. We are going to the cute, younger than me pediatrician tomorrow and I'm sure he'll assuage all my crazy-mama fears.

In other news, I sit here today, officially wearing my interim "fat chick" clothes. Yes, I gained 40 lbs during the saga of the bedrest. Okay, so 10 lbs of it was in the first trimester when I was not restricted to bed. Carbohydrates were the only things that even qualified as food for me, and considering the hit-by-a-truck fatigue I felt during those first couple of months, I could literally feel the potatoes and bagels adhering to my ass. So sad. I did lose 20 lbs in the first two weeks after delivery, after all 40lbs seemed to settle temporarily in my ankles and feet. But I had to go to Target the other day to purchase a cart load of inexpensive chubby duds to wear until the breastfeeding diet starts doing it magic...

Speaking of, (yes, there's much more aimless rambling now that I am a sleep-deprived lunatic), I think when a breastfeeding mother steps on the scale, she needs to take into account the fact that her breasts are now the size of a small country and as dense as the poplulation of NYC. Yeah, I have 20 lbs to lose, but I really think 10-12 of those pounds are just sitting in my boobs. A quick glance at myself in the mirror this morning left me wondering when, where and how I had breast implants without my knowledge...

In an attempt to begin losing some of this weight, Ethan and I ventured out yesterday for our first "mommy & me" walk to the park. We didn't make it all the way to the park (I was in bed for four months, people--some slack, please!), but we did find a gorgeous little bike path that leads to the park, through many back yards and I realized that we live on the outskirts of a really nice neighborhood. Not that we're ghetto, but I may have mentioned in previous posts that we are a neighborhood "in transition"---well, the bike path people have transitioned into rich, BMW-SUV driving, flower pots on every porch, new addition on the back of the house yuppies. Ah, that is the dream...

Some of these people have landscaped their asses off for the viewing pleasure of those on the bike path. And it amazes me that I am 3 minutes from Georgetown and the hustle & bustle of DC, yet this path is complete peace and quiet, not to mention laced with tons of pretty flowers and chattering squirrels (they all probably live next door to me in the abadoned house). Soon I am going to have to get my flabby ass to Home Depot and buy some flowers to plant in our yard. Ethan enjoyed the view of the inside of his eye lids, as usual, so the walk was really for me. I think we'll go again today. If I can get off the couch...