Thursday, December 9, 2010

She Lives!

1. In the wonderful craziness that has been my life for the last month (we've had her for a month now!), blogging has slipped down the list of my priorities. It's become that thing that I THINK about doing often, but rarely actually find the time to do.

2. I'm going to get better at it.

3. Really.

4. Johanna is doing very well. She sleeps well (usually), eats well, and adores playing with her brothers.

5. I've adjusted fairly quickly to adding a baby to my routine, though I still need to perform a few miracles on my schedule so I can wedge in some uninterrupted writing time.

6. The last time I juggled a baby with the rest of my life was ten years ago. The good news is, I'm better equipped emotionally and mentally to do it this time around. The bad news is, every time I have to get up off the floor while holding a twenty-one pound baby, I'm forced to give my knees a pep talk.

7. Something along the lines of "You can do it! Just hold out a little bit longer. NO! No cracking. Especially not in that direction. Hold...hold... what's that? Help? Oh, yes. Here's a wall. I'll just dig my nails into it and haul myself up, shall I? There. That only took three minutes. Nothing to it."

8. Besides the toll on my knees and lower back (Who needs a gym when you can cart around a baby?), I've had to remember SO MUCH STUFF before I can leave the house. Gone are the days when I could just holler at the kids to make sure they weren't naked and then to get their (please God) clothed patoots into the car while I slid into the driver's seat and simply asked if everyone had their seat belts on.

9. Now, I have to make sure Princess J is fully and warmly dressed, has a clean diaper on, has a toy and a blanket for the car, is strapped into her car seat, is then seat belted in, and has a fully stocked diaper bag.

10. The fully stocked diaper bag didn't happen right away.

11. Ten years since I've done this, remember?

12. The first time I took her out on errands, I left the diaper bag at home. I didn't judge myself too harshly. At that point, I was averaging 3 hours of sleep a night. I was lucky I remembered the baby, much less the diaper bag.

13. The second time I took her out, I remembered to bring the diaper bag, but I seriously underestimated the amount of STUFF I should've packed inside. I had a spoon, a bib, a burp cloth, a few wipes, and one diaper. I figured since we were just heading to my restaurant to eat and then heading back home, what more could I need?

14. We sat at a table, ate our lunches, introduced Princess J to the staff on hand (I've been taking her into the restaurant here and there to slowly meet the staff in small doses so she doesn't get overwhelmed with the 125 people dying to meet her and hold her), and had a perfectly lovely time until the end when J's full stomach demanded her body do SOMETHING to make more space for the food she'd just consumed.

15. Her body complied.

16. The diaper could not contain the results.

17. It was Clint's turn to change her. I pulled her from her high chair and handed her over. He instantly refused, saying, and I quote, "There isn't a changing table in the men's restroom."

18. To which Daredevil immediately replied, "Yes, there is. It's in the handicap restroom."

19. Clint called him seven kinds of a traitor, but the damage was done, and he left, gingerly holding Princess J in front of him.

20. The problem, of course, was that while I had a spare diaper, I didn't have any spare clothes. And it's winter. Poor baby couldn't go around in just her diaper.

21. Thankfully, I work at Cracker Barrel, which has a retail store attached to the restaurant.

22. And that's how Princess J came to own a Tennessee Volunteers cheerleader's outfit.

23. Which, for those of you unfamiliar with the Vols, is day-glo orange.

24. I'll apologize to her once she's old enough to realize who's to blame.

25. My general lack of sleep, combined with my general lack of depth perception, is cause for daily entertainment at my job.

26. Just yesterday, I was walking and talking over my shoulder to someone (I KNOW how foolish that is for a girl like me, but I do it anyway), and I turned around and smacked face-first into a metal dessert cabinet.

27. Which isn't as bad as the time I face-planted into the cardboard box outside my office or the time I went to sit on the office chair and found it inexplicably gone, but THIS time I had an audience.

28. I know where each of them lives.

29. *plots evil scheme full of evil to repay them for their insults*

30. And finally, I'd like to share a story with you that is all about numbers. The day I took my parents to the airport, I planned to stop by Clint's studio so his co-workers could meet Princess J. This time, I made sure I had two diapers and two changes of clothes. No way was I going to be unprepared again.

Naturally, J filled her diaper on the way to the airport. Since Clint's studio is just minutes from the airport, I drove there and changed her as soon as we arrived. We hung out while Clint finished his radio show, met a ton of co-workers, and then I left her with him so I could get to work.

When I came home that evening, he glared at me and said, "I have an answer for you. What's the question? The answer is: Two."

I shrugged.

He said, "Two is the number of poopy diapers she had while we were still at the radio station. Next answer: Three."

I said, "Um ... people who noticed?"

"No! Three is the number of wipes I had on hand to deal with the situation."

As a side note, I can change a regular poopy diaper with one wipe. Wipe, fold, wipe, fold, wipe and it's done. A five alarm poopy diaper requires two wipes using my system. My husband feels that somehow the poop's molecular structure might eat through one wipe and come in contact with his fingers. He requires multiple wipes to deal with any sort of bodily function.

I started laughing. "Three was plenty."

"No, three was not plenty. And here's the last answer: One."

But I was way ahead of him and was nearly doubled over laughing, even as I tried to appear properly contrite. "One diaper. That's all you had. I'm sorry!"

It's hard to seem sorry when you're laughing at someone, but I gave it my best shot.

His glare could've peeled the paint off my van. "One. That's right. One."

And so I've learned another lesson. Take one diaper more than you think you could possibly need. Pack extra wipes if there's the remotest chance your hubby might be the lucky diaper-changer. And keep a straight face while apologizing if you expect to be taken seriously.

Off to double-check the diaper bag and dive into my day!


  1. Loved this post! Glad to see your..err..settling in nicely. Enjoy your day :)

  2. Oh, you kill me! LOL Glad to see Princess J is adjusting well. Now tell your knees to catch up. =)

  3. LMAO So it's true. You and HC_Palmquist ARE related. I'm beginning to see the resemblance.

  4. Only you could make me crack up over poopy diapers, CJ. Poor Clint. He has my sympathies.

  5. +JMJ+

    LOL! Thanks so much for the laugh! What a great post. Your family sounds lovely. =)


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