in which laurelai is rocky and i can't write a grocery list to save my life.

so, you may have noticed that i've been a little scarce around these parts lately.  lots of reposts and many days of silence.  maybe you didn't notice.  that would be fine, too.

if you've been wondering, we're actually doing really well.  laurelai is the living definition of 'champion.'  eating, growing, sleeping.  she's got it all down.  many nights she eats around 10:30 p.m. and doesn't eat again until 4:00 or 5:00 the next morning.  (i worry i just jinxed myself there, though, by saying that out loud.)  plus, she only takes about 10 minutes to eat before zonking back into oblivion.  all things considered, she's pretty much Rocky in the ring of overnight feedings. even though i feel like Rocky loses at the end - not sure, never actually saw it myself - which, if true, is where the metaphor stops fitting.  because laurelai always wins.

and because nights are going so well, i feel like i've finally conquered the challenge of being a mostly-gracious mom to a newborn.  (not to toot my own horn or anything, #toottoot.)  and it's only taken four kids to get to this point!

but here's the thing: i have always explained away my postpartum fuzziness, idiocy, confusion and ridiculousness as resulting from a lack of sleep.  as it turns out, it must not be entirely attributable to that, since i'm currently just as foggy as i always am for the first six months or two years of a given V.V. child's life.

i find myself in the middle of sentences, wondering what i just said and (for pete's sake) why on earth i would say such a thing.  but i must finish the sentence! so i continue on in some rambly, half-coherent way until whoever it is that i'm talking to looks just uncomfortable enough that i'm compelled to stop talking. 

the organization required for writing a grocery list makes my brain shut down.  i feel the fog come in from the corners of my mind and just smother any desire to push forward and accomplish anything. 

and the other day i found myself pronouncing the word 'lost' as 'loost.' why? 

all of this is my rambly, postpartum way of excusing my way out of the late nature of the blog.  and i usually wrap up my posts with some kind of snarky summary statement, but i can't really remember what it is i've been writing about, so i'll end with a joke:

what did the french skeleton say as he sat down to dinner (and probably tucked his napkin into his clavicle)?
BONE apetit!

that's a little halloween humor to hold you over for the next few weeks.  you're welcome.


paige said...

four minutes after this was scheduled to post, i found myself sitting awake in the living room with a newborn who had been awake for the last nine hours and still refused to go to sleep. i should have seen that coming.

The Crislers said...

For about the first year of each of my kids' lives I would find myself trailing off in the middle of sentences with no idea how to finish the thought. It was disturbing how strongly I identified with a character in the third Hunger Games book who is somewhat MENTALLY HANDICAPPED. This is what being a mother does to you.

todd said...

paige, your joke was scary good!

YAYA said...

"i find myself in the middle of sentences, wondering what i just said and (for pete's sake) why on earth i would say such a thing... and the other day i found myself pronouncing the word 'lost' as 'loost.' why?"

These are things I have suffered from, and that you have laughed AT me for, for years. So, you say they are postpartum affects. Hmmmm....