Book of mommy firsts

First dried booger kissed 4 times, on purpose: (18 months old) Booger squished into crib sheets, object of extreme adoration and fascination by baby, who kissed it repeatedly before insisting mommy kiss it, too.

First crap-loaded diaper changed in a public eating area when no one was looking: (10 months) After two days of constipation, at an ice cream stand near Boston. Chocolate malt crunch previously ordered left uneaten.

First snot sucked out of sick baby's nose: (3 weeks) This is by far the worse advice Tiffany has ever given me. So gross. Tiffany, you are on the advice black list, seriously.

First fart blamed on baby: (also 10 months) SeaTac airport carousel #6. Exact words: "Oh, sweetie, I'll change your dipey as soon as daddy gets the luggage."

Safety

Lee said baby Simon can shove 5 grapes in his mouth at once then Amy said "grapes are the #1 chokers of kids so be careful." Then we saw on the news how a little boy fell out a screen window and a girl drowned in a flower pot and babies die in their cribs and no one knows why. What the hell? Toilet clamps and drawer locks and socket covers are just little plastic talismans against the real world of drunk drivers and angry dogs and just plain bad luck. We are, terrifyingly, powerless.

Money

In that picture of Alexander Hamilton, the one on the $10 bill, he's super hot. How could I have not noticed that before?

From the archive: Ninja

Jeff wants me to sell my motorcycle because I'm likely to get killed on it and he's shy so finding another girlfriend as cool as me would be almost impossible and also a total pain in the ass.

My argument is that I should keep it because the open road calls my name, plus it's the only occasion I have to wear leather pants and stompy pink boots.

Today the Alaska viaduct was closed for hours. Traffic was backed up to yesterday. When we got to work at the newspaper we learned there had been an accident, a motorcycle vs. SUV fatality so bad even the people in the SUV had serious injuries.

We were talking about the sadness of this when Heidi the reporter yelled across the newsroom "hey Heather! Remember a couple months ago when that semi blew through the red light and almost smashed you on your motorcycle right outside the building? That was SO CLOSE!"

Jeff said, "I didn't know that."

"Um, I forgot to tell you," I said.

Right then I knew I lost the motorcycle argument, for good.

The House at Poo Corner update

We evacuated the house at 2 a.m. and have not returned. Meanwhile, an army of adjusters, professional crap-cleaners, dump haulers, backhoe drivers, pipe-camera operators, and assorted money grubbers have been there 24 hours a day enjoying the glory that is our absurdly sewage-soaked basement.

Of course, an illustration is in the works, made easier if I could find my #$@)*#% favorite pens.

What's your sign? I'm a feces

Jeff is in the basement with the plumber and they just opened the main sewage line, opened it right into the basement and I can hear splashing and Jeff going "ARRRGGH" and this horrid smell washed upstairs, all over the house, a smell so bad that changing the diapers of three babies for four years has not prepared me for this in the least. It's ungodly awful. I think Jeff just barfed. The plumber has tried many things, for hours, and now this. It was the last option.

Does your basement flooding with sewage on January 1 mean the whole year will be filled with terrible luck, or should we be happy that things can only improve from here on? At least the girls will be delighted; they spend half their day devising ways to say "poop" or things that rhyme with "poop" so they don't get in trouble for potty talk; in the face of this, worrying about if a 4-year-old says poop seems like a total waste of parenting energy. Because now it seems the entire house is coated in shit, old shit, decayed shit, the shit of demons and dragons and Boston drivers and all the most evil foul creatures real or imagined.

The plumber thinks the main line is broken. We are so screwed.

Back

Seattle is my gravity. It takes so much effort and planning and trial to move away, to push away but inevitably there's the unsolicited job offer, the unbelievable good luck and once again, it's so easy - too easy - to move back, to let go and fall.

Here's to Montana, to Santa Cruz and Long Island and Baltimore and all the places in between loved or despised. Here's to getting stranded on Fourth of July Pass, heat waves in St. Louis and Thanksgiving traffic jams in Truckee and all the moving adventures away and back to the place I'm starting to think might be home.

Snoo's Song

Persnickity Snoo, what's wrong with you?
You cry and you cry, we don't know what to do

Your tummy is full and your dipey is new
but still you're blue, Persnickity Snoo

We love you, Persnickity Snoo
it's OK with us if you cry until two

We'll laugh and laugh until you laugh, too
you're our little girl, Persnickity Snoo

Signs

Tiffany is eight months pregnant. She is a glowing a beautiful hippopotamus of magic. We've never seen a bigger baby belly.

Her and Dave are going to name the baby Max. We tried to get her to name him Bertuzzi after our favorite hockey player but she just sat at her desk knitting tiny sweaters and said "no no no I'm not naming my baby Bertuzzi. Now get out of my office."

Mr. Hand Sanitizer human resources guy made the mistake of telling Tiffany her midwife isn't qualified to sign her maternity leave paperwork, which resulted in his instant death. Did God smite him down or did Tiffany? We'll never know.

Three weeks old

Persnickity Snoo's guide for newborn babies on appropriate responses upon waking up.

WAKE UP!
Is your dipey dirty?  (can't tell)
When were you last fed? to test, grab at mom's nipples and see how sore they are. (Kindof sore)
 When was the last time you barfed up a whole boob's worth of milk? (4 a.m. this morning)
Where's that rash today? (ass)
This wasn't a problem when grandma was here.
-->Poop
-->Then cry

Really, really bad nightmares

I dreamed I woke up at a stranger's house and couldn't find the baby. Then I realized she was a turnip in the garden.

I dreamed we were standing on the Golden Gate Bridge when the baby fell off inside a huge pill capsule. We saw it wash ashore and sprinted down to save her. When we opened the capsule, she was a cocoon broken in half.

I dreamed she was covered in dog crap and when I washed it off she was a shrivelled blue alien.

I dreamed we lived in a house with a tiny pond in the back yard. One day a huge goldfish jumped out, snatched the baby out of my arms then swallowed her whole. We drained the whole pond to find her but only found frogs.

I dreamed she was kidnapped by lesbian rodeo clowns.

24 weeks: Childbirth methods

The Bradley Method

Basic idea: Drug-free childbirth is satisfying for mothers, healthy for babies.
Key points:
- Your obstetrician is a puppet controlled by pharmaceutical companies and malpractice insurance
- Women have easier deliveries when their husbands help while naked
Likely result: Healthy mother and baby

Lamaze

Basic idea: Simple pain coping strategies can ease labor. Also, drugs are awesome.
Key points:
- The doctor and hospital staff are benevolent and trustworthy. Don't worry about all those tubes stuffed into your vagina or the IV wedged into your spinal column.
- Panting is a good way to increase oxygen to the brain despite overwhelming scientific and commonsense evidence to the contrary
Likely result: Healthy mother and baby

The Travis & Robyn Method

Basic idea: Travis grabs birth book on the way to the hospital and reads the content pages at stoplights.
Result: Healthy mother and baby