I had the most vivid dream the other night that I interviewed Tina Fey for my blog.  Although I love 30 Rock I am not often in the habit of dreaming about Tina Fey.  I was reading Bossypants at the time and of course am still sleep deprived and can only imagine that those two factors combined and made me dream about asking Tina Fey questions about motherhood.  Anyway I woke up feeling that I had to email her to see if my dream could come true.  So I have sent her a letter…fingers crossed I get a reply…an autographed photo would be good but answers to my questions would be even better!  If anyone out there knows Tina Fey tell her to read her mail!

Daddy R and I were watching The Office the other day…the one where Pam is pregnant and crying while watching dog commercials…and I said something along the lines of at least I wasn’t like that when I was pregnant and Daddy R said yes you were just like that.  He said while I wasn’t super emotional and crying at work I was at times unreasonable.  I, of course, have no recollection of ever being unreasonable!

That got us talking about our different perspectives about the pregnancy and especially about the birth.  I have very tender, and I suppose sentimental, memories of giving birth to Baby C.  Perhaps this is because I did hypnobirthing and went into labor expecting to have a good experience…and came out of labor wanting to remember a good experience…but I honestly don’t recall it as being that bad.  I remember the contractions as being manageable and I have vague memories of being tired during the pushing part.  Daddy R’s recollection of the birth is completely different.  He remembers the contractions much the same way that I do but his memories of the pushing part are much more gruesome than mine.  I suppose I should lend some credence to Daddy R’s version of events as he actually saw everything and was actually very physically present during the labor.  I on the other hand didn’t see anything and went through the labor feeling as if I was sort of outside myself.  I imagine that feeling of being sort of physically detached during the labor combined with the immediate elation of finally having my baby and then the insane hormone changes and the exhaustion all combined to give me birthing amnesia.    

We didn’t discuss it but I bet that we have different views on how the first few months went too…I bet Daddy R’s version involves Baby C sleeping through the night from two weeks on!

For the record I was never unreasonable and Baby C didn’t start consistently sleeping through the night until around four months!

I was just talking to my sister…she doesn’t have any children yet…and she said that she was bored by the breastfeeding talk and wanted a post about something exciting…like poo! So Auntie D, this one is for you!

While Baby C’s poos amaze me on a daily basis…how can something that little produce so much poo…there have been two times that I have been truly shocked and awed.

The first time was when Baby C was just a few weeks old. I had him up on the changing table and was in the middle of changing his nappy when he started to pee…this unfortunately has become routine but this was one of the first times he had attempted this trick. So I let out a little scream and grabbed the washer that I kept on the change table exclusively for the purpose of catching errant urine. I was trying to contain the pee when he started to poo. So I had a dirty diaper on the change table, one hand on the washer, one hand trying to get the new diaper under him, pee everywhere and this is the moment he chooses to poo…you will find there are many times when you wish you had more hands.  Anyway, add a nice dose of baby poo to that equation and you get a huge mess. Of course at this point I was really yelping so my mother rushed into the room…and just started laughing. I think it was Baby C’s way of saying welcome to motherhood.

The second time was on our way back to Brisbane from a visit to the USA. We were about an hour and half away from landing in Brisbane and so I thought to myself that I would go and take care of Baby C’s nappy one last time before we landed. At this point we had logged about forty hours of airplane time so we were seasoned travelers. Anyway, I changed Baby C’s diaper and was letting him hang out in my seat when he did his poo smile…a very cute little half grin that usually indicates he has dirtied his diaper. I picked him up and gave him a sniff and sure enough it was a poo. So I gathered up another nappy and my wipes and went to wait in line for the bathroom. As it was a long haul flight and it was almost landing time people were using the bathrooms to brush their teeth, to change, to do who knows what, so the line was long. And as Baby C and I were waiting in the line I could see the poo start to escape from his diaper and creep up his back. By the time we were actually in the bathroom there was poo everywhere…from knees to shoulders.  I should mention that this occurred during a time when Baby C was pooing only once every three days and so when he went, he went big.  It was rough.  I used every wipe I had.  His outfit wasn’t salvageable…those sniffer dogs at the airport would have been traumatized.  I managed to get his new nappy on…although at this point it had some poo on it too.  I did the best that I could do.  Then I had to get my now nearly naked baby back to the seat so I could grab more wipes, another diaper and a fresh set of clothes and start again.  Welcome to the nappy changing mile high club!