a mumble in the night

It's a twisted scene when your sleep deprived mind has you interrogating your husband in the middle of the night about where his brother is. Yes, I was sleeping and "no" his brother shouldn't be and never has been in our bed.
I wasn't on my feet but I can still claim an occurance of 'sleepwalking' since it's a giant step up from a mumble in the night.

I have been known to sleepwalk under stressful periods in my life or when I am overtired. Once, I ruffled the feathers of an innocent, slumbering houseguest by shaking him and demanding that he "tell me where the list is!". I thought he came with a list of instructions on how to care for him and how to get him home.
He's a grown man.
He lives in the next town over.
He doesn't stay over anymore.

Meanwhile, last night I kept saying "where is your brother" and Eric kept repeating "he is in his crib". I started to get really heated when the stupid, stupid fool would not listen to me. "I'm not talking about the baby, I want to know where your BROTHER IS!" He clearly was not concerned about why I thought the baby was missing and when he finally realized that I was saying "brother" he muttered I don't know". Gee thanks, you idiot!
A few minutes later (probably seconds but it felt like minutes) I snapped out of my subconsious hysteria and put the pieces of reality back together. "Brother is not here...brother was never here....nobody is missing, go back to sleep and try to salvage your dignity in the morning.
I snatched up some sympathy over the ordeal and went with "I'm so exhausted and look what it is doing to me!"
cuckoo....

suck toy

Forgive me friends for it has been four days since I last blogged. I have committed several ferocious murders upon the ant species and I aim to take out the entire population! I do not ask for forgiveness. I do ask that you grant me a swift hand in destroying them.
THEY ARE TAKING OVER MY HOUSE!
Anyways, moving on... we are on day two of getting Sweet Brady Pie on a routine. He doesn't like it, he hates it and he makes his feelings known. My only option is to act like a clown from morning until night and hope that he is so amused that he forgets that I have not fed him in over three hours. God forbid right? When I say "act like a clown" I really mean that I am 'having my nose honked all day, my earholes poked, my hair ripped out strand by strand, my mouth fishhooked by little fingers and my shirt ripped at all day long and I have to grin and bear it so that he doesn't go into an all out "give me the boob" rage!
On a happy note, he has started sharing his most favorite suck toy with me...a leather belt :) He sucks it hard and then I say "can mama have" and he puts in my mouth and waits for me to smile. It's hard to imagine that at this time last year I had not even met him yet and now he is making such kind offerings
Visual of the day : I wear my munchkin in a 'baby hawk' sling to get him to calm down before a nap. It is so flattering when I have him on my back that I actually look like I have four boobs and a butt in the front... so when people tell you that you loose sooo much weight breastfeeding
IT'S A LIE, ITS A SCAM, THEY ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED!!!! I just eat more and justify it by saying he is having a growth spurt so I need to eat munchkins and peanut butter. Oh the days of skinny jeans, where art thou?

a coffee shared

Mr Bear (my husband) asked me why I wasn't drinking the coffee he made this week. I told him it tasted better last week when he was on vacation and home to share it with me. There is no need for me to mull over it slowly while recounting the night of sleep I did NOT have when nobody is there to listen. I down a crystal light 'energy to go' and pat myself on the back for having less calories.
I presented my 'life on the compound' idea to Kelly again today I'm pretty sure she is sold on it too. Children should be raised by immediate AND extended family in my opinion and the burden should not rest solely on the parents. I'm not suggesting polygamy, I'm just saying it would be a lot easier if we could do this whole "new parent thing" as a group and take things in shifts. There are times of the day when I feel like I can tackle anything but there are also times of the day where I want to pluck my eyebrows, shave my armpits and hide in the bathroom for ten minutes without listening for a "mah mah mah muh". Most importantly, if we lived on a compound I could take my fresh brew on over to Kelly's (or whoever else lived on our compound) and we could sip on a good one together...if we are lucky it might even lead to good bowel movement for one of us and that too shall be discussed and rejoiced :)

p-p-p pecker face

Brady may shoot me one day for sharing this but certain things have to be done.
Kitten, (my cousin Kelly) came by with her 7mo old girl, Sophia and after seeing her private parts during a diaper change I'm not sure what is funnier, the pecker face Brady makes or the confusion over where to wipe on Sophia'a massive ton of 'lady bits'. "Aim for the center Kitten, aim for the center"
Brady is OBSESSED with his manhood and the second his diaper comes off he grabs a hold of it and looks at me right in the eye, daring me to try and stop him. Yes, I have tried offering him alternate toys and he swats them away without taking his eyes off me and goes right back for the prize. Once I laid him on his belly and so he arched his rump up in the air and went for an underhand shot to the pecker. If that were not hysterical and calculated enough on it's own, he whipped his head to the side, looked right at me and gave me THE PECKER FACE!

suckers

So I have been on a technology strike for a few weeks now b/c I don't like getting information that doesn't fit in my happy little framework of the world. Call it sheltered, unrealistic or crazy but it works for us. I say 'us' because Brady and Eric are part of my little cacoon up here in the sticks of New Hampshire. Isn't that what life is all about, creating your own happiness? Well that is what I'm doing and now I will blog about it.
Maybe I'll call my blog "adventures in breastfeeding a crazy boob boy!!" Perfect!
Right now I'm watching his face contort as he takes a poop in his high chair and eats his cookie. Brady will be nine months in three days and "No" he does not sleep through the night, not even close. Oh well, what can you do but be happy that he is healthy, well adjusted and ADORABLE!! Last night he woke up to eat at 130am crying. I took him to bed, gave him some milk and when I was certain he was in a coma I tried to bring him back to his crib. Well, he popped up to a sitting position before I even took my hands off him. The second his body hits the crib he repels it, slithers up and rips out a big "mamamamama" He doesn't know how to get back down on his belly but I'm certain it wouldn't make a difference anyways. Meanwhile, to keep him lying down I offer him a boob souffle in a parent sandwich. The best part is I sacrifice my comfort and let him stay latched on for the rest of the night, what a bunch of suckers!
I bought a container of similac at Wolly World this past weekend but I don't intend on using it. I whip it out when he is acting crazy and I threaten him with it. Realistically though, how could I take it away from it when he cups the boob with both hands and breathes all of me in like it's the best thing he has ever had in his short life.