One Month Already?

I was texting with Mark yesterday and he accidentally ended a sentence in a question mark and then said, "I just Anchormaned that sentence."  From the movie Anchorman, when someone accidentally puts a question mark at the end of a sentence and Ron reads it as written, "I'm Ron Burgundy?"

(And then later he reads, "Go Fuck Yourselves, San Diego."  Gah, I love that movie.)

Anyway, I wrote the title to this post and it looks like I Anchormaned the title. 

No matter how you look at it, Adelle is one month old.  I mean, she's more than four weeks old.  But she was born May 29, so maybe she isn't a month old until June 29? Am I supposed to go by weeks or by the calendar date?  Important details to nobody, I'm sure.  Let's just get right to the cute, shall we?



So cute I died.
(Photo by Felicia Lewis, FML Photo Design)

 That was a few days after we came home from the hospital.  She was the sleepiest (read: BEST) baby model ever for this photo session.  I have many  more but I haven't sent my announcements out yet and don't want to spoil them for the actual people that I know in real life.

(Seriously, I do know people that I didn't meet on the Internet, and occasionally I send them real mail.  I swear.  Most of them like me, too, if you can fathom!)

Other very cute things happened that were not professionally photographed.  I have a very nice camera but I have no idea how to work it and really, I take all of my pictures on my iPhone. 

Olivia feeding Adelle.
Very exciting, aparently.

Speaking of feeding, this child continues to be super fun to feed, following in the Knepper Child Tradition of being Refluxy, OMG.  She swallows (heh) the spitup but cries one ounce into a feed and struggles for the entire four ounces.  Pepcid sucks ass like I knew it would, but I picked up our Prevacid prescription today so I'm hoping it changes her life like it did for Olivia. 

"Ima pet her. Like a doggie."

It is a lot different having a newborn around the house at the same time as a three year old.  There is no sitting around gazing at your sleeping baby all day while you watch entire seasons of shows.  No.  This child has no choice but to go places - the zoo, the park, the wading pool, outside alllllllllllll day despite mid-80 degree weather.

It's hot out, idiots.
Also, I am rocking this hat.

Also, I simply cannot rush to a crying baby at the first sign of a whimper.  While I feel like this time around has been incredibly easy, there really is so much more to do.  Clean up after Tornado Olivia, wash bottles, make formula, make dinner, bathe (occasionally).

Also also, Adelle has entered the colicky/witching hour phase where, for an hour or two every night, she is just pissed the hell off and nobody can make her happy for more than five minutes at a time.  This is the phase that made me realize that babies can act like assholes.  It is the reason that I do not especially enjoy the newborn phase and, regretfully, makes me wish I could fast forward to three months.  I hate to wish time away, but by the time of day the crying starts, my nerves are shot and I just really want a beer and some earplugs.

And then she falls asleep on me and does a sleep smile and I'm all,
"What?  I love newborns!"

I bought those monthly onesie stickers that everyone seems to have for their babies.  But when I ordered them from Etsy I didn't realize the shop was in Canada and so shipping is expensive and takes forever.  I FAIL at life at least daily so this was not a surprise to me.  Plus they started at zero months so now I am two months behind.  MomFAIL.

Adelle really is a nice little chunk of baby.  I do believe that I will keep her, especially since I have not yet finished gnawing on her deliciously fat cheeks.

Daddy is a BIG QUEEN

Olivia says things all the time that are unintentionally funny.  Or...are only funny because I have the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy?  Whichever.  Funny either way.

And I know that all kids do this and all parents tell the stories like they are the most original and hilarious stories ever and then you pretend to belly laugh but really you're thinking about what to eat for lunch or maybe you are wondering if anyone is looking because you have a wedgie to pick.  I know. 

BUT MAH BAYBEE IS ORIGINAL AND HILARIOUS!  And at least when it is a blog you can just click away and avoid the awkward social interaction.  The Internet is fantastic that way.  So is texting.

So Olivia has been saying all kinds of stuff that makes me laugh and it is so inconvenient because my c-section incision still hurts like a bitch when I laugh.  The other day there was a fly in the house and Olivia was going on and on about beating off the fly.

"How about you beat off that fly, Jen*?  How about, when daddy gets home, he beats off that fly?  Maybe Milo** can beat off that fly?"

LOL FOREVER.

Olivia got a princess blanket for Christmas, and when she saw Mark all wrapped up in it she yelled, "DADDY IS A BIG QUEEN!"

Yes. 
Yes he is.

Last night she said, out of nowhere, "I like ding dongs!"  She was talking about door bells but I won't even try to deny that I laughed like she meant penises because, come on. 

She likes to pretend that there are all kinds of perils around her swing set - sharks, monsters, and most recently hot lava.  Or, hot lavas.  Which sounds like hot lovahs.  As in, "Ack!  Watch out for those hot lovahs!"

I'm easily amused, is the point.  And I should probably try to get out more because I am clearly talking to toddlers too much.

*She calls us Jen and Mark when she feels like something is very important.  Like beating off flies.
**Milo, our dog,  is the member of our household most likely to beat off a fly.  This opinion is based on his history of giving blow jobs to our other dog, Baxter.  So much dog porn at our house.

Call me maybe.

I started making a playlist for Olivia because she now has an opinion on songs, and also because she repeats everything and so Pandora and all its sweary swear words is no good for her anymore. 

Did you know that the new Maroon 5 song has an explicit version that says shit and fuck?  You didn't?  Me either.   Now I do and so does Olivia and she hasn't said either word yet but I'm sure it will be at a really convenient time like in the middle of a wedding ceremony or maybe in front of all of her friends.

Anyway, she really likes that Carly Rae Jepsen song, Call Me Maybe.  Which I downloaded and added to her playlist. 

The problem is that someone brought this video to my attention and now this is how I sing the song in my head:



And now you will too, I bet. You are welcome.

(Seriously, there are a bunch of these!)

Sweaty Little Meatloaf

It was easy to put off with everything going on (hello, New Knepper!) but eventually we had to go pick up Ainsley's belongings. That day, when she was gone, we stood in the middle of the room looking at each other like, What Just Happened? And thankfully, there was an offer to pack up and hold Ainsley's things until we were ready to pick them up.

I don't know that you're ever ready for something like that but at some point you have to suck it up and deal with the shitty stuff that happens when your kid dies. So we did it. We picked her things up and then we went to the zoo. Because it felt like we needed something fun to balance out the holy awful. Me, Mark, Olivia, and Adelle picked up Ainsley's stuff and then we went to the zoo like any other ordinary day. Just like every day we've pretended to be very ordinary because what else do you do?

And then after that we left the stuff in the car for a few days. All piled up. 17 months of Ainsley's life all packed up into boxes in the back of our crossover. It was easy to ignore because we were very busy and it gave us the perfect excuse to put off the shitty stuff for a little longer.

Yesterday, I unloaded boxes. One at a time, starting with her clothes, I began to sort through the belongings of my little girl who I'll never see again. Clothes she always wore, new clothes that she didn't get a chance to wear. Outfits that I bought to coordinate with Olivia when things still seemed positive and hopeful.

It was crazy because I kept sniffing the clothes that she wore often thinking that I could smell her on them. She was kind of a smelly little ball of beefy meatloaf. She was sweaty from working to breathe and it's not like she was stinky but she smelled. She was adorably smelly. I bet that the people who cared for her at the hospital know exactly what I mean. I loved to pick her up and sniff her smelly little head and kiss the fat part of her chin. But all the clothes smelled like detergent.

Every day is different. Sometimes it all feels very real. Ainsley died - I was there. It was horrible. I will never see her again. And sometimes it feels like we are just very busy and don't have time to go to the hospital. I look at my photos from May and June and her life in photos ends as abruptly as her real life ended. She was here and then she was gone. There are no more updates or things to try to help her come home.

Anyway. In the most obvious news flash ever: this all still sucks.

American Dad

According to Facebook, I know a lot of people who have and/or are married to THE BEST DAD IN THE WORLD!  The BEST HUZBAAAND EVAH!  Etc.  We are not the mushy type but I'll go ahead and throw another hat into the ring: Me too.  I have the best huzbaaaand and Olivia and Adelle (and, ya know, Ainsley too) have the best Dad, evah.

I failed to get a picture of Mark with his girls on Father's Day because I suck at life, basically.  But I did get a picture of Olivia in one of his gifts.

Because nothing says "We Appreciate You"
Like a Ron Swanson T-Shirt.
(In addition to the Father's Day cards I bought last year and
forgot to give, and then saved to give this year.)

But hey, Mark - we do appreciate you!  You are a super fun dad and a fantastic husband.  And you are also now pretty uncomfortable with all of this mushy stuff, right?

Happy (belated) Father's Day!

I like to blame lack of sleep.

Things are going just fine here at the Knepper household. The Great Jaundice Saga has ended, thanks to an endless supply of OMG THE NEWBORN POOPING NEVER STOPS! Big sister loves little sister. I am off the percocet and feeling good on just Motrin - quite honestly motivated by the beautiful beers calling to me from my fridge which I cannot drink while taking percocet.

My most serious concern is what is going on with a stuffed monkey.

We got a really adorable basket of baby goodies with a monkey theme that included a stuffed monkey. Olivia has been obsessed with giving this monkey to Adelle all.the.time. and so it is wherever Adelle is. I've had to wake Adelle to eat every three hours through the night so that she would poop out this stupid bilirubin. And so I'm pretty tired and when I'm tired I'm more weird than usual so when I looked down and saw the monkey in the pack and play at about 4 a.m. all I could think was Holy Monkey Penis.

What else is there to do at 4 a.m. but photograph stuffed animals in questionable positions?

I'll tell you what you don't want to do at 4 a.m.  You do not want to wake up to the HBO that you left on when you fell asleep watching a True Blood marathon because do you know what they play on HBO at 4 a.m.?  Let me tell  you, it is a dirty dirty sexathon or something on HBO at 4 a.m.

So that was last night.  And then today we were in Adelle's room and I notice this happening in her crib:

MONKEY PENIS!  AGAIN!

I figured that Mark must have done this twice on purpose to make me laugh.  He says that he did not.  That he just moved it and sat it down and it ended up like that and he didn't even notice.  Which makes me sound like a total perv for looking at an innocent stuffed monkey and seeing that it is all, "tah dah!" about its penis when in reality it is just a monkey sitting in a pack and play/crib.

I'm tired.  And possibly demented.

The good news is that I don't have to wake the new Knepper to feed her every three hours, so perhaps I will be more well rested and less likely to see monkey penis?  Perhaps?

And by Sophia, I mean Snooki

It seems as though Adelle Sophia has been born with a natural affinity for tanning.  Or, you would think so given the yellow-Jersey-Shoreness of her jaundice skin and her need for 4 days of light therapy.



There's no room to fist pump in here.


I can handle a little jaundice, though.  She's just hanging out in the regular nursery under the lights until her bilirubin level decides to behave.  She's close.  And hey, after 500+ days in a hospital?  What's an extra 5 days or so?

Rookie level stuff, right here.  She's in the nursery all of the time, except when she is ready to eat.  They put her on a bili blanket and bring her to us for a half hour so we can feed her.  A little glow worm.




Don't worry, I know newborns don't smile.
I am sure she is taking a massive dump.

 Olivia did get to meet her sister before she had to go to the nursery for her luxury sunbathing spa week.  She did a great job being gentle and holding her.  And then after a few minutes she said, "I think I'm done" and then ran off to watch Netflix on our iPhones. 

She insisted on seeing her feet.

The lights seem to be working pretty well.  Her level needs to be below 10 and it is stuck at 12.  She is close!  You can see the difference in skin color when you look at the place where they cover her eyes.

Like a little jaundice Zorro.

Things are surprisingly chill this time around.  I didn't have any blood pressure issues or preeclampsia.  My c-section was uneventful except when I almost passed out getting the IV because I am such a freaking wuss about getting IVs.  We had the same labor and delivery nurse who delivered Olivia three years ago.

Adelle came out screaming her freaking head off, which was reassuring.  Our favorite neonatologist was on service in the special care nursery at my hospital and came for the delivery.  She assured me that everything was perfect. 

Hey, y'all.
Also, there's my guts right there!

My OB hugged me while I was still strapped down and couldn't see what was going on and told me that, indeed, everything was perfect.  "We are good.  We are good.  We are good."  That's exactly what he said.  It was hard to believe but then over came Mark with a perfect little meatball and I couldn't argue.  We were good.

Adelle is all FEED ME YOU IDIOTS!

My hospital stay has been pretty boring with no baby to take care of and no medical drama to woe about.   We also got to see the nurse who took care of us in perinatal on the night that Evelyn died and Ainsley was born.  I was surprised that she remembered us. 

So anyway, I am still in the hospital with Adelle.  But everything is fine and while I'm ready to go home and I just so freaking glad that everything is...boring.