Bridget Jones' Diary - A new mom's twist

Pounds lost: about 20 (yes, I am going to rub that in because I can't believe it...I am only 4 pounds above pre-baby weight...it's all in the pooch)
Teet's sucked: oh, thousands
Times pooped: enough!
Hours slept: O=20, Mom=~5 (not sequential)
In my usual creative time of middle of the night, I thought of taking this spin on my mommy-hood diary. Why? Well, this is what my life about lately...those moments in between are usually me adoring O, giving her a bath (it's amazing how easily the water goes from too hot to too cold...I can't keep up! ) or reading Harry Potter to her. (HP is the only book that takes longer than a minute to read).
This morning, I actually got out of bed at 9:30...time to feed O again. I was determined, though to at least grab coffee before I had a baby hanging from my boob. I think I tempted fate by trying to make oatmeal as well. No such luck! No sooner had I gotten the bowl out of the microwave, did O start crying to be fed.
As is my usual habit, I went to change her in between breasts (halftime show...it usually wakes her up). Lucky me, I noticed a stain on the back of her pajamas...yes ladies and gents, O had pooped up her back. Assplosions as Uncle Jeff likes to call them (O's uncle, my bro-in-law). Luckily for me, it wasn't as terrible as I have heard they can be. (War stories from other parents that only seem to come to light when you are pregnant.) But, still, not something you want with your coffee.
Luckily and not-so-luckily, I am staying at my parents house right now and I have a few extra hands around the house during the day. My dad was able to grab a change of clothes for O while I finished changing her. I say not-so-luckily about the return-to-nest situation because we are here due to a cracked drain pipe at our place and they actually have to dig up our backyard while we cannot use water in our house. This, my friends, is what is called a money pit. There is literally a pit in our backyard for emphasis. Hopefully, they will have completed the work today so we can move back home, but this will not be a cheap job and we are praying that it is covered by homeowner's insurance.
On the bright side, our place is close to my parents and we can come and go from our place as we find we need more stuff. It's actually amazing how little stuff O needs. Diapers, wipes, and my boobs and she's a content kiddo. I say that now, as I watch the ever growing pile of toys and gates that are being installed for when my nephew comes over to be babysat. It makes me appreciate the simplicity of my situation. O can't really go anywhere, so as long as I make sure there are no suffocation hazards around her, she is good to go.
I even got in a workout on Sunday (all seated equipment as I need support for that area). I guess they tell you not to exercises until 6 weeks post-partum. I asked my dad if I needed to wait that long as I felt good enough to at least get on a reclined bicycle and he gave me the green light. In fact, he said the longer I wait, at this point, the harder it will be to get back into shape, especially, now that I have a boost of confidence from seeing my current weight. I found, though, that I probably should stay away from any ab workouts at this time. I did a few crunches and could feel that my abs have not quite gone back to where they are supposed to be (as they separate to make room for baby during pregnancy). That's okay, the only time I really had a taut stomach is when O was filling it.
Oh, and how can I forget John and my first night out since O was born. I get a random call from my sister this past Friday. She was willing to babysit so we could go out to dinner. How awesome! Even though I am not yet dying to get away from my baby, I have read that it is important to take that time for just you and your husband..so I accepted the wonderful offer. John and I went to a local tapas restaurant and I GOT DRUNK. Well, not like that is hard to do for me since my tolerance was down, but I was finally able to enjoy the excellent sangria knowing that O would be able to be bottle fed and I could do my first pump-and-dump. (This is another of those things you learn from other mothers...) I was actually excited that I had to pump-n-dump my intoxicated boob juice...because it meant that I was intoxicated for the first time in a LOOOONG time. I wasn't stumbly drunk, just enough where I felt drunk. I WAS exited to dump, until I saw that alcohol actually increased my production...then I was sad that I had to pour it out. Oh the sacrifice!! But, thanks again to Auntie Chrissy for the opportunity. I now know how important and great it is to take a few hours to yourself...for dinner, for blogging...whatever. ;-)