Not really. Not in a mean way, but more in a loving, concerned way. I still got kicked out.
They sent me to happy hour with my friends. Yes, they actually sent me to have a drink with friends. I think they are worried that I'm starting to turn a light shade of green from lack of sunshine (ironic, considering we live in Las Vegas) and am starting to get that wild, contained look in my eyes. After all, I really haven't left the house in the last four weeks except to go to hospitals, doctor appointments, vet appointments, and the one photography session (that I hated with a passion. The photos are wonderful, but I was a stress case).
And so, I listened to them. I put on some makeup and realized how it must feel on 'What Not to Wear' when Carmindy slathers foundation on some make-up virgin for the first time. It felt heavy and foreign. But, ever the trooper, I pushed forward and added some perfume (so smelly!) and some vinyl hair gloss for good measure. I don't really look like Kim anymore, but some lumpy, shiny version of myself.
Happy hour was fun. I sat in the sunshine and drank a beer. It was a relief to come home, though, to our little baby boy who was, not surprisingly, eating. This is all the child does. He is up to (I'm not kidding) about 4-5 oz per feeding. Yesterday he literally ate every two hours. Growth spurt?
I have to admit, use of the phrase 'growth spurt' totally cracks me up. When my friend Sherri's kids were younger, she used to say that anything inexplicable thing her children did was chalked up to 'a growth spurt.' They slept too much? Growth spurt. They were active during the day? Growth spurt. They consumed 4-5 oz of food during each feeding? Definite growth spurt.
And how, by the way, am I ever supposed to keep up with this mad food schedule? I am so excited to be producing 4 meager oz every time I pump (every three hours). But if he is eating 4-5 oz every two to three hours, well, he is consuming 28-32 oz a day, whereas I am only producing 24 oz. Every time I pump, I chant silently, "More milk, more milk, more milk," but I don't think my brain has heard the message yet. It took my bladder 16 days to figure it out; I can't image how long the message will take to get to the girls.
And speaking of milestones (::shameless bragging about child about to happen::), I just want to say that not only is our little chow puppy up to 9lbs, 7oz (woot!), but he also held his bottle for about 30 seconds. I was trying to text and feed (sorry, I'm a mother of the millennium) and looked down when I realized both hands were on the phone and none were on the bottle. Whoops. This follows Scotty rolling over (twice!) on Days 16 and 17, and now he's holding his bottle on Day 25. The ped also said today that once kids consistently eat more than 32 oz a day, she usually recommends solid foods. Obviously, he is far too young for solids, but what is next? College applications? A steak dinner? I know everyone says they grow up too fast, but this is seriously ridiculous.
But, then Scotty promptly spit up all over my black sweater and I watched the milk dribbble down his chin. He made his little old man face and then started screaming. Good reminder that he's still all of 25 days old, and that's a good thing. I guess college apps can wait until next month.