Mish mash, Volume 2: The morning edition

Some of you may recall that I have admitted to being somewhat less than *ahem* eloquent and coherent in the mornings these days (that's what you get when your babe refuses to sleep more than a 2 hour stretch at night). And, therefore, in the past I covered it up nicely with my mish mash post.

Well. It's time for mish mash 2:

I'm watching Anna slumped over in her swing right now, sort of looking around, but mostly just licking the tray that goes over top of her lap. Methinks this is a sign that I should perhaps stop blogging and attend to my poor little child's needs. Would you agree? No? She's fine? Okay then. She can stay licking for a little while longer. (On a side note - Anna has never enjoyed her swing. But I thought I'd give it a shot once more today. Now that she's big enough to awkwardly slump to one side and rest her head on the hard plastic tray, she seems to really like it.)

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Yesterday I hosted my first every playdate for the Mom's group I joined. The verdict? Success!! Of course, I went all Howard Hughes neurotic before they arrived, making sure that the snacks were set out nicely (I rearranged the forks more times than I care to admit) and ensuring the coffee was brewing so that as my new Mom friends walked in the door they would be met with the sweet smell of fresh java. Oh, and also? I made the hubster come with me on a multiple store search for this colourful alphabet rubber mat thingy that we put on the hardwood floor so the babies would have something soft to sit on. It was only $19, but after yesterday's playdate I realized I don't have a whole crap load of use for the thing. I'll just have to keep hosting playdates, I guess? Perhaps I can get more and more Martha Stewart about it as each playdate approaches. I can have themes! And crafts! And season-related snacks! Or... I can throw a box of timbits on the table and just keep dusting the cat hair and food off the mat before everyone arrives.

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At the end of our cottage vacation last week, Andrew, Anna and I went to another cottage to spend time with Andrew's family for a couple of days. At said cottage, I slept on a bed that felt deceivingly comfortable at first. Then on our last day there (which was a Sunday) I woke up with a pretty stiff back. Lucky me, it started getting worse and worse as time wore on. By Monday afternoon, I could barely walk. I couldn't lift Anna (thank goodness Andrew was home from work that day and the next) and I couldn't sit or lay down comfortably. Such fun! Now, pre-Anna days, I would have popped as much medication as I could get into my gimpy little body. But because I'm breastfeeding and forever feeling this phenomenon known as "Maternal guilt", I suffered with the intense pain and no meds for as long as I could. Actually, that's not true. I took a couple of Advil because I was certain those were fine. But I held off on the Robaxacet muscle relaxant stuff as long as I could. (By Monday night, I had to take some. So I waited until after I nursed Anna for the last time that evening and then took a few so I could sleep.)

The next day, I made an appointment for a massage to see if that would help. While there, I filled out the little form they ask you to fill out, detailing my complete medical history as far back as I could remember. Anyway - so I wrote down that I was breastfeeding. As the dude's massaging me and talking to me about the muscle pain and what I can do after the massage to help alleviate the pain, he says to me in a very "this is not a question" way: "You're not taking any Advil or anything because you're breastfeeding". My response? "Uh... no. Nope, I'm not. Well... actually - I took two last night. But that was it."

I lied to the massager guy who doesn't know me from Adam!!!! What the heck is wrong with me?? I feel so guilty about a couple of pain relievers getting into my booby milk that I need to lie to a complete stranger?? Ever since he said that, I started thinking about every "bad" thing I've put into my body and it's effect on my poor little Anna. (Aspartame! Caffeine! Alcohol! My baby doesn't have a chance. What have I done????????) Then I remember that I'm not smoking crack and I realize that maybe - just maybe - Anna will be okay after all.

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Finally - for the last tidbit in my mish mash post - just because it's cute... Here's Anna with a cloth diaper on her head. Enjoy my baby's insane cuteness. (And don't mind my over-zealous boasting. I'm a proud first-time Mama.)