Oh Good, I was hoping to clean that again

Organizing the tiny apartment is not going quite as well as I'd hoped. Big surprise! Not only does the freezing weather make me very lazy, my two-year old thinks that what I put away needs to come back out immediately, and spread even further around the room. And, hmmm, perhaps I should dump the whole canister of fish food in the tank mom just cleaned..... (and hates cleaning!) Siphoning out that water is just pretty gross. I am still a little gun shy after I got some in my mouth once. The thought of it still makes me cringe.

Today I am hoping to finish up the bookshelves and the "office space", which is really just a makeshift desk with a computer, and tons of papers haphazardly thrown about. I really would like to get Aife's room organized.... Digging deep for the motivation.

The sun is finally out, but it is close to 20 below. That sun, just taunting us. Last week it was over 50, sunny and gorgeous. Unfortunately, a little too cold today to take a field trip. But the two of us have to get out of the house! If we stay in, I just may have to organize something.

Making the Bed

It has become abundantly clear that the disaster that is my apartment is driving me crazy! I was so grateful yesterday while visiting my dad, that he had a recent Better Homes and Gardens magazine out, and that the main focus was organization. It gave me the inspiration to finally tackle all of those ever-increasing piles of who knows what. I have mounds of unopened mail, toys everywhere, and a closet full of clothes I know I will never wear, but keep around just in case I get invited to that 'pretend you are back in college halloween /ordinary day party'. I need to purge my life of superfluous possessions that have no place. Sentimentality needs to have limitations in my life. It is taking over all available floor space...
My first step in this process of de-chaosifying my life is to make my bed first thing every morning. Simple, yes, but unbelievably successful. I instantly feel like something has been accomplished, and my bedroom is partway clean already. That has proven to be an amazing way to start the day. Next step is coffee.
I am planning on tackling one area at a time while simultaneously picking up everything I just put away (my daughter's contribution), and getting this place de-cluttered, organized and as un-chaotic a small apartment with a two-year old can be. Another goal of mine this year.... keep my expectations realistic!

Wrinkle Cream!?

At two the mirror is still your friend.

Oh yes, I have become a believer in the quarter life crisis. I used to think that it was yet another made up epidemic of the times to increase the sales of beauty products, miracle pills and supplements, magazines, gym memberships, clothing..... really anything to provide that quick fix for the inevitable aging process, and the sagging that accompanies it.

It is a gimmick to make us buy stuff that most likely is only helping our wallets lose weight, but I got sucked in! I am 25, and freaking out! I just bought wrinkle cream yesterday. According to well, everything, men grow dignified and distinguished, and women grow droopy. Believe me I am embarrassed to admit this insecurity, but aging is starting to be a part of my life!

This most likely is due to seeing pictures of myself covered in birthday cake at my two-year old's party in comparison to pictures of my baby-less friends' covered in stylish clothes at trendy clubs full of good looking people. Now, I had my time. I partied, and had fun and all that, and I am happy where I am in my life. But it certainly does age you. On the bright side, my liver is in better shape!

Back to Blogging

So, it has been an extremely long time since I have posted anything. I didn't realize how much use I had of my hands when I was breast-feeding and my baby spent more time sleeping, than rummaging throughout the house destroying anything within her range, which currently is absolutely everything. These days I am lucky if I get time to use the bathroom, much less sit down at a computer and type something- an activity that does not revolve around my daughter, and requires me to take my eyes off of her for more than a few moments.

Right now, she is climbing up my back as I type, and desperately try to get my coffee down. This is what is considered living dangerously in these parts nowadays. Liquids, electronics and a two-year old. Well, really anything + two-year old= potential disaster.

Anyways, I figured it was high time I surrendered some of my thoughts into the vast web expanse, and get them out of my head.

Life with a two-year old is a whole different ball game. We are having so much fun, and learning our way through dramatically different challenges. Our baby-proof house will never be toddler proof. She has figured out the child locks, something her dad can't do, learned to open doors, and has made the discovery that by pushing chairs up to the counter she has unlocked the world of cabinets previously out of her ever-expanding reach.

It is hard to imagine that this toddler in front of me, or on top of my shoulders pulling my hair, is the same little wiggly infant barely able to hold up her own head. I am loving this age so much, and look forward to watching her personality bloom even more.

Date Night

Matt and I went our very first DATE NIGHT! I don't think we really ever went on dates when we were just kickin it... old school... sans bebe. It was amazing! We got all dressed up, SHOWERED!, and I wore lipstick for the first time since senior prom, six years ago.

The magic took place at a quaint little restaurant downtown called Russets. We were the only ones dressed up, but I didn't care. Any excuse to throw on those heels, and hike up the hemline, I am in. The food was fantastic, and we basically had the outdoor dining area to ourselves, complete with this adorable little fountain next to our table.

I felt like a couple again. I love my little family, and we are that, too. But, it is so important to remember the couple aspect of it. Things were getting a little rocky, and action needed to be taken.

I remembered what attracted me to him in the first place, and why I fell so madly in love with him. Then coming home to our little baby girl, I was overwhelmed with gratitude, and hope. Hope for so much happiness.

The obstacles are all so worth it.

Daily Wisdom: Shuffle Scuffle

It is wise to make sure all of those Mariah Carey songs, that were just a joke for shits and giggles... I don't remember how those got on there, I swear!, are off of your ipod before you put it on shuffle while enjoying a nice car ride with your boyfriend. It is difficult to believably explain why Operation Ivy is followed by "And it's just, like, hooOOOnnnnaaaay...."

Are you there mom friends? It's me, Kaylee

I did not realize how badly I wanted mom friends until today. Having a baby when NONE of your friends do is difficult. It automatically makes you the one to not call to hang out. Yesterday, my friends got together and went and had mojitos at the restaurant where I used to work. I totally understand why I wasn't invited; a baby limits the activities a bit, but I still felt the pangs of jealousy. I used to be fun.

Moms around here are just nowhere near my age. I had hopes for this one girl who is a friend of a friend. She is 35, and about to pop out her first in October. I met up with her and our mutual friend so that we could chat, and get acquainted. We would both have young babies, and blah blah blah, BUT she informed me that ALL of her friends already have babies, so she is set. (I can't believe how desperate and pathetic that makes me sound! Ah, but I am, so oh well.)

She is a bitch anyway. She is in that cocky, totally prepared, won't be rattled by this baby, stage of pregnancy. Ha ha ha. I was there once, too, honey, and you will be bitch-slapped by baby reality!

I guess I will just have to be patient, and find my new niche, or tackle an unsuspecting mom at the park and beg her to be my friend.

Baby Trickery

How is the whole introducing solids thing going? Well...

She's not eating it yet, BUT...

she has figured out how to fake sleeping.

Don't Bring Me Down, Brrrrrruce

Wait. Wait. I have something to show you.

I'm going to start standing in my crib! So, you can stop putting me down for naps now.

You know that girl who always make the kissy face for every single picture?

Here is Aife's rendition of that. Her new favorite face...

Oh, and she even changes her own clothes now.

Court, Opportunities, and Bares (butts) oh my!

Recently, an explosion of things and stuff (big, intimidating words are kind of a hobby of mine) have simultaneously occurred. Some good/ potentially great, some major pains in the ass, some small, some big, some 'shut the hell up, you've sufficiently covered all bases'.

Then I sit down to write this stuff, and find that I am unable to because, maybe, just maybe, highly unlikely, but possible, this stuff is only interesting to me! Haha, ridiculous, right?

Here it goes anyway...

Our previous landlord has been withholding our security deposit for nearly 60 days now. That has really screwed us over. We requested an itemized list of all deductions taken, and have yet to see said list. He flat out refuses. He keeps telling us what was wrong with the premises, but refuses to show us proof of his maintenance fees. AND, a new tenant took occupancy the day after our lease was up. So, I have a sneaking suspicion that he did not paint the walls, and get the carpet cleaned and all other costs he is claiming to have taken out of the deposit. On top of that, he is claiming we agreed to pay $125/ month for utilities. What?! We will pay the bill you give us, from the electric company. We lived above the bike shop, and he said that he had a hard time distinguishing which bill was for which space: the Aspen store, the Carbondale store below our apartment, or our apartment. Giant red flag, but I was 8 months pregnant, and just wanted a place to live. I believe we were paying a huge chunk of his utilities for the store. He is a crook! He refuses to reach any kind of reasonable agreement with us, so we are taking his GREEDY ASS TO COURT! $1100 is a lot to us. To him, it is gas money for a day.

On a more optimistic note, I think my graphic and web design career is about to come out of its coma! I have a couple of decent accounts on the horizon. That would be amazing. I am currently making $200 a month at the flower shop, because no one wants to have huge extravagant weddings this summer. Wonder why. This could be huge. I am optimistic.

Now, I am just in the process of getting my CU credits transferred to an online college so that I can finish up my degree while I breastfeed. I just have to pay off some tuition (not even scratching the surface of my loans) and then my transcripts can be released. That will be a huge relief to get those loose ends all tied up.

And finally the gripping conclusion to my never-ending post... Last night Aife was laying across my lap, decided to take off part of her diaper, and peed all over me. Wasn't that worth reading this whole post for? It isn't a story unless someone gets peed on.

That's Adorable! Now Stop.

The feelings you get from watching your baby learn how to do new things, or discover more to her surroundings is ineffable. I mean, there is just nothing out there quite like it. You are utterly captivated by everything they do.

And then comes the day that they realize they are capable of taking off their own diaper.

That day has arrived at this household. This also happens to coincide with her insatiable need to put absolutely everything in her mouth. Well, everything excluding the delicious and edible bananas and peaches I so lovingly, and time consumingly mash up for her. Her toys she eats, her food she plays with.

The other night I was sitting on the floor with Aife, and I turned around to grab another book for her to chew on. Matt, was telling me about his day, and mid-sentence he stops and exclaims, "Look at our daughter. Just look." I turn around to a tiny naked butt, and the biggest grin I have ever seen in my entire life. She was so proud of herself, and starting giggling. She giggled for a few seconds, and then smashed her diaper right into her mouth! Luckily, I had just finished putting a clean one on her, so there was nothing in it. But, I won't be so lucky every time she decides to air herself out.

As the grains of sand fall through the hourglass, So do the days of our lives.

Not sure on my accuracy of that little quote of infinite wisdom, but I'm sure you get the gist of it. This one goes out to my g-parents. (and Days of Our Lives is my grandma's "show", and we all know to be quiet when her program is on.)

My dad's parents have always been a huuuuge part of my life. My grandpa is the most amazing man, and my grandma is so kind and nurturing. We would spend summers at a lake with them in Wyoming (I know, total cliche 'summer house at the lake' country up there.) But it was my absolute favorite place on earth. My grandpa would get my brothers and me out on the lake at the butt crack of dawn when the water was still glassy, and pull us around and around on our water skis for as long as we wanted. He took us fishing, and would obligingly release the fish for me, because I couldn't bear to take their lives (I now realize that they probably died soon afterwards, anyway). He has the best sense of humor, and has played a huge role in creating fond memories of a wonderful childhood. (excuse the hallmarky nuance there).

Our last trip up to the lake was bittersweet. The whole area has changed beyond recognition, so I don't want to taint the memories of trips past, and yet, I wish I could give Aife those Seminoe summers. Our last evening there my grandpa and I planted a couple of chairs down by the water, set up the umbrella, and he opened the cooler, handed me a cold one, and we shared our first beer together. It was an awful Budweiser in a can, but that was the best damn beer I have ever had.

I am sad that Aife will not get to know them as I know them. They are really starting to show their age. They love her, and go crazy over her every time we visit, but I know she will not to get to have the same experiences with them. My parents are amazing, and will spoil her rotten. So, she won't be lacking in the g-parent department. It still breaks my heart, though, that she won't get to know my grandpa that well.

I remember my great grandparents, and I'm sure my dad felt the same way. They were already so old by the time we were old enough to really interact with people that weren't our parents. My memories of them consist of a lot of sitting in chairs, and zoning out. My great grandpa would just turn his hearing aid off, and sit there in silence. I bet they were fantastic people. We heard stories about them, but never really got to know them. I would give so much for Aife to have the opportunity to really get to know my dad's parents. At least they have gotten to meet her, and will watch her grow up. I'm so grateful I could give them that.

IU D-Day Part Deux

I don't know if I my vagina has just already had its fair share of terrifying pain and was like "no way am I making this easy for you.", or I am just a GIANT HUGE woos, but that IUD hurt like a bitch! The pamphlet warned that there might be slight cramping following the IUD insertion. Okay, I thought, I can handle some cramping. That pamphlet is a damn dirty liar, and I would punch it right in the face if I could!

The doc tells me that I will feel three separate cramps as she measures, inserts, makes me baby-proof for ten years. I think, ok, no big deal. I gave birth naturally, how bad could this be? So, wrong. At least with birth I had the epidural.

First cramp, painful, but manageable. Second cramp, teeth-clenching "Oh my god, tell me it's over!" I need something to crush with my hand!! Third cramp, "THERE'S MORE?!?!? I changed my mind. Hand me my pants. I'm out!" Ahhhhhh! My eyes tear up, I'm clammy, and about to pass out from the blinding pain.

The doc feels my forehead, grabs my hand, and tells me to not move. Do not sit up, I will go get you some ibuprofen. Oh, gee, thanks. That will do it. I think I will just go slam my head in the door for a while instead, until I have forgotten that it feels like you shattered a dozen glasses in my UTERUS! Meanwhile, gushing blood.

She comes back, and asks if I can put my pants on without passing out. I'm about to give her a "are you kidding me?" look, when I hear my baby start to cry. Without hesitation, but many groans, I jumped right into jeans, and wobbled out to collect my girl that the amazing nurses so generously offered to watch while my poor uterus was being traumatized.

We waited, hunched over, to check out and pay as a steady stream of teenage girls were infiltrating the waiting room, making appointments, checking in, making my life hell! I am standing there hunched over, baby in arm, blood trickling down my leg, sweating buckets. These girls were taking FOREVER! Finally, we get to leave.

I decide to walk around town for a while to gain my composure a bit, before I drive. Walking, not the greatest feeling at the moment, but sitting down and driving stick, excruciating! I pushed Aife in her stroller, and hobbled behind for a while.

Moral of the story, I am a giant woos, apparently. But, I am looking forward to hormone-free protection that lasts for ten years! Depo made me a crazy person. Today it feels like my ovaries got into a boxing match. And lost big time after betting their life-savings on a landslide win, and owe the mafia their first born child now, because they can't come up with the money, the Depo has obviously not worn off yet...

IU D-Day

Is it ridiculous that I am so nervous about this IUD? I mean, I know having a copper T shoved up my cooch sounds like a remarkable monday afternoon activity, but um, it would be nicer if there was some way to do this online. That didn't even make any sense whatsoever, but it is a million degrees in my house, and the "makes sense" section of my brain has been sweated out of my pores.

I have to bring the little miss with me to this exciting event. This should make for a very memorable gyno visit. As if they are not uncomfortable enough, right? I guess I am just not looking forward to the monstrous cramps that follow an IUD insertion. Looks like I gotta leave now for this very exciting appointment.

Dad/Babysitter

Okay, true story.

Matt actually told one of his friends that he couldn't go mountain biking with him this weekend, because I was working and he had to BABYSIT our daughter. Yes, you read that correctly. Babysit our daughter. I was speechless. I just looked at him in disbelief. If I started telling people that I was busy all week babysitting my daughter, they would look at me like I was a crazy person. Rightfully so. Oh, gotta go. I have to get back to babysitting my daughter.

Here Aife is re-creating the shocked and appalled look on my face.

Watching Lightning

Watching lightning

July is at its end. I really can't believe how this summer has just flown by. I remember just a couple months ago how I was desperately wishing time away. I wrote about it in private, not wanting to reveal my shortcomings as a mom. I was so mad at myself for wishing time away. Time I was "supposed" to be clinging to with unrelenting clutches. Cherishing every single moment. I felt like a failure, a horrendous mother, because I just wanted to cry all of the time. I counted down the hours of each day, anxiously awaiting the end of each day. It's not that I didn't love my daughter. I loved her, and still love her with a love I never knew I was capable of until I met her, but I still struggled. I do believe I was battling with some postpartum depression, but I had neither the means nor the time to do anything about it.

And, yet, here we are. Six months in, and the air is clearing. I feel like I am getting the hang of it. I finally take the time to sit back and watch this little person I created. I get to witness someone getting acquainted with this world of ours. I watched her discover her hands and feet, smile her first non-gas induced smile, jump at her first encounter with thunder, roll on her belly and shriek with frustration, and be privy to the incomparable amazingness of an infant's belly laugh. True undeniable laughter.

No longer afraid of the thunder

There are so many unbelievable things you get to be a part being a parent. I am so grateful I finally stopped obsessively timing every feeding to make sure she was eating exactly ten minutes per boob, and then burping within five minutes between each boob, and not doing this because 'the experts' say so, and doing this because this book says so, and freaking the F out because my baby wasn't on this rigid schedule, and just STARTED USING MY COMMON SENSE. She was growing perfectly, very healthy, and most importantly... soooo happy.

I finally just relaxed, and enjoyed my baby. Why did no one tell me that from the beginning? Everyone terrifies you. Parenting books just made me feel outrageously inadequate. Uh, it was stressful. Then I realized (cliche approaching) Screw you guys, I can do this!

Once you realize that raising your little creation is pretty much the coolest thing ever, and that she has astonishingly survived all of your inadequacies and follies, parenthood becomes so much fun. You just start to enjoy your time together immensely. Everyday she amazes me, and everyday I still would not change a thing. Life with her is as it should be.

Finding happiness in everyday

Oh God, It's Gonna Get Sentimental

New motherhood is crazy lonely. You are never alone, and yet it is the loneliest I have ever felt. My amazing friend Katie got me started on blogging back in March by introducing me to the sites Girl's Gone Child and Dooce. She opened up this whole world of lonely, 'oh yes, I've been through that' moms.

Finally, I found people to relate to. None of my friends have children. None. They are all getting married, but so far, no little pitter patters. I, of course did the opposite. Baby, no marriage. Matt is fully in the picture, and wonderful, and we are basically married just without the certificate.

But, anyways, it was awesome to find this whole community of people who get it. And that don't judge me to my face for not being married. The judgments in reality are harsh.

This one friend of ours was fully ridiculing blogging. He said it was pathetic that people actually thought other people would want to read about their thoughts, and happenings. Well, I DO. I have found some awesome people, and I love reading their blogs. I do care, and I like having a place to put my thoughts as well. I'm sure my life and thoughts are not fascinating to everyone, but who cares?

Blogging has really helped the loneliness. It is so encouraging to read how others have dealt with the same stuff and their own obstacles, and also how they have enjoyed the incredible events of parenthood. I have to stop typing now. My keyboard is soggy from all of the mush I just spewed onto it.

Red Shoes

When I first decided to start this blog I was rockin the sweats, big shirts, disheveled hair, and well, obviously make-up was as likely as a unicorn popping out of my ass. All mirrors were avoided.

Given, I was still fashioning my pregnancy weight, not sleeping, and never the left the house, so it was both hard, and somewhat pointless to try to look good. But, you reach that point where you just want to feel sexy again. My hot red heels were taunting me. Every time I reached in the closet to grab some new fat-girl pants, they whispered to me, "Remember us? We are your power shoes. You are unstoppable in us! Wear us. Wear us."

I would give in. Crouch down on the floor in my sweats and baggy shirt, and desperately try to stuff my still swollen sausage feet in. Nope. Not going to happen. Try again later. Ignore the blood.

And I did. Many, many times.

Spring came, and the pounds were finally starting to melt away with the receding snow. I decided I would start getting dressed in the morning, wearing some make-up again, and brush my hair! It was amazing. I started feeling much happier again. I no longer felt like this schleppy old mess. I wore cute outfits, dressed Aife up in her cute clothes (we both had previously just stayed in pj's all day), and started venturing out into the world strutting our stuff.

Babing at High Altitude serves as a daily reminder that motherhood is gorgeous (and that "mom" jeans are never ok, not ever, not for any reason!) Moms are sexy. Aife and I are babes, living way above sea level. Let your babeness out, celebrate it.

And in the immortal genius of Ron Burgundy, "I look good. "

Growth Spurts, Explosive Squirts

Growth spurts (although a fantastic way to gauge that you are nourishing your child properly, and not just letting her rummage through the garbage to find her own sustenance) are miserable! Apparently not for every baby. Some babies magically grow with no fussiness, no constant nursing, and no hourly wake-up calls throughout the night. They sail through teething, gobble down whatever baby mush you put in front of them with a cheerful smile and a belly laugh, and then help you do the dishes afterwards. Months later, they'll grab a newspaper, head into the john, and teach themselves how to use the toilet.

The hourly wakings have gone on for several days now, and well, we (the babe and I) are doing what we can to hang tough. Although we are both seeing things, running into walls (apparently not seeing walls), accusing the neighbor's cat of using up all the toilet paper, and making wild, outrageous, nonsensical claims of conspiracies and relaying the information to Unsolved Mysteries, we see no cause for concern.

The experts say that these growth spurts usually last between 2-7 days. Or is that 27 days? The signs of a growth spurt are unyielding fussiness due to lack of sleep, constant nursing which helps increase the supply for an expanding baby, and less sleep through the night because she wants to eat hourly, which then brings on more fussiness!!! However, don't jump too quickly to the growth spurt conclusion as the answer, these could also be signs of a baby reacting to lifestyle change, a minor illness, or she has already begun to take revenge on me for agreeing to give her a name that is completely impossible for anyone to pronounce unless they are Irish.

In reference to the explosive squirts title, Aife (ee-fee, of course she is mad already, but it has a lot of meaning) is beginning to teeth. Sooo, bring on the explosive squirts (mostly all over me) and lots and lots of tears. But, frozen washcloths are fantastic for this, and so is massaging her gums, or the old standby, a rum or whiskey dipped pacifier that I suck on until I fall asleep, curled up in the fetal position where Matt comes home to find me with half of my hair ripped out.

6 Months

Aife is officially 6 months old today. Everyone told me that time would just flyyy by, and I would wake up one day and send her off to college, and cry, get empty nest syndrome and take up needlepoint and bridge.

Well, we aren't quite there yet...although her new babbles are scarily similar to the drunken ramblings of frat boys... I am starting to feel the pace of time quicken. The first several months moved like screaming, pooping molasses, and I vehemently believed that it would never ever end. I would be trapped inside FOREVER! (I have a knack for the melodramatic).

Anyways, as the days grew longer, things, as everyone had promised, got immeasurably easier and way more fun. Now, I can't believe my little tiny girl is 6 months! Unfreakinbelievable. Everyday she amazes me more, and I know I am going to miss this time later on down the road when she is a tantrum-throwing-fine-I'll-ask-daddy-then two year old.

I'm looking so forward to all of the stages, and teaching her things, and watching her grow accustomed to the world, but sometimes I look at this amazing little 6 month old girl that means more to me than anything, and I can't imagine her changing; I half (maybe 1/3) wish she could stay at this age, this size, exactly as she is. Dinosaur noises, face raking, hair pulling, inordinate amounts of spit and all.

Then I remember sleep, and how nice it will be to do it again.