Good Grace

The first few weeks with Grace were insane.  When Grace made so much as a peep, we came running. Literally.  We started out on a very strict schedule.  We were determined to get Grace on some sort of program that helped us know what was going on and when to expect it.  So, we kept diligent notes - of ounces, diapers, poops, pees, etc.  - waking Grace up every 4 hours for feedings. This lasted about 2 weeks. Both of us utterly exhausted, resting only for moments at a time until the alarm went off, decided that along with dirty diapers - out went any semblance of a schedule. Grace still runs the show, but when she sleeps - we let her sleep.  While Grace rests, household madness commences. 

First, clean bottles.  Okay I lied - I typically pray that the bottle fairy (Ryan) came overnight and left me with fresh nipples and an adequate supply of 9 oz. bottles. Following bottles, I frantically clean up the mess that Grace and I created throughout the early morning.  This usually consists of 5 or so dirty diapers strewn about, changing mats on the couch, floor, changing table and play pen.  Grace really enjoys peeing just after you removed the dirty diaper and just before you fill the void with a clean one - thus half of the changing mats are off to the laundry.  Speaking of laundry - its time to organize Grace's clean clothes from the no-so-clean clothes.  With one basket of neatly folded outfits and one basket that smells of spoiled milk and other unmentionables, its typically time to start again. Grace lets out a very dramatic "wahh" and looks around for her pit crew.

Today's variable was that the ceiling was leaking in the bathroom and the cable box was making an awful (and terribly annoying) buzzing sound.  My poor little monkey (Grace :) had her first set of shots about a week ago and still isn't quite back to herself yet.  Keeping the graphic details out of it - I'll just say that things have been a bit "runny" lately.  Apply the term "runny" to every possible orifice you can imagine and you have successful envisioned my day. So, while the cable guy explained pixel distortion to a very uninterested mother and baby, Grace puked on my shoulder, pooped on my leg, and managed to pull down my shirt with her foot - exposing not just some cleavage to the cable guy - but the whole enchilada. Everyone nervously smiled, including Grace and we carried on with our day - one pooped outfit at a time.  


I'm sure this is only the beginning of Grace and I's "mommy and me mishaps" and I can't wait.  Now - we shall dance the night away to Neil Young.