I
finally have a couple of minutes to sit down to write and now I'm
blank. Nice. Probably you all should come back in about ten months
when my synapses are firing again. During pregnancy everybody was
like, "Don't you feel stupid all the time? Like your brain
cells are leaking?" and for the most part I was fine, like
I could still count to ten and recite the alphabet, but now not
so much. It's the lack of sleep. Last night I went to bed at 12:30am
(cranky baby), got up four times in the night to feed him and woke
up at noon, which I know seems luxurious, but I'm still exhausted.
There's just no catching up on sleep.
Today
the boy is two months old and also gigantic. I won't be surprised
if he's almost doubled his body weight at his checkup Thursday.
Our scale is totally inaccurate so we can't be sure, and I was thinking
about taking him to the supermarket and putting him on the vegetable
scale, but that might not go over well. Today's milestone: he cried
real tears for the first time when I smashed his foot against a
chair. I'm a good mom.
===
Have
I talked yet about how I was mislead about birth and how I don't
feel like my friends and the various professionals I dealt with
adequately warned me about how much my crotch would hurt and for
how long afterwards? Some of my friends were like, "Yeah, I
had to sit on a donut cushion for two weeks afterwards," and
one was like, "I pee when I laugh too hard now. Or cough,"
and a couple were like, "Sex just wasn't the same for about
six months. Or eight." And I guess I brushed it off and thought
none of that would happen to me, especially doing it sans drugs
and procedures and operations. But let me serve as a cautionary
tale to you: your junk will hurt for a long time. And at the risk
of TMI, let's just say that Gray and I are starting to call each
other "roommate" and that my hymen has regenerated and
sealed itself.
===
God,
will I ever have enough time to get the editing done I need to do?
It seems doubtful. I knew this would happen, that I'd look back
at pre-baby time and wonder what the hell I did with myself in all
the hours of the day and why I didn't get more accomplished. Now
I've got the end of a wedding video to do, another whole wedding
to edit, and two documentaries. Oh hah hahaha. And it's not like
I can hire an assistant to watch him while I work because I'm the
one with the mlik jugs.
The
other day I had the brililant idea to try to get famous people to
be in my phobia documentary (I asked the humor columnist Dave Barry
if he'd do it since he's totally afraid of needles and his assistant
wrote back and said, "Um, no.") but there's just no way
I could take that on. It sure would make it good, though. Hopefully
psychologist Dr. Fear and Dr. Dental Anxiety will be interesting
and colorful enough to make it good. Come with me and see it at
Sundance in 2012.
