8 Minutes

I want to try to explain my absence on this blog.  I KNOW I KNOW that I should be posting at least twice a week.  Here's a BRIEF explanation as to my silence (brief because I have 8... 7 minutes before I have to get Monty up from his nap, walk the dogs real quick, load Monty into the car and head to UCLA for a language study before coming back home, getting him ready for bed, getting myself ready for my gig tonight and then going to said gig.):

Somewhere around Monty's 6th month birthday I was hit with a massive relapse of depression.  I had been riding so high all throughout my pregnancy and for Monty's first few months.  A combination of exhaustion, stress and chemical imbalance caused my mood to plummet HARD.  I have had several severe panic attacks and have almost ended up in the hospital.  Don't worry.  I'm fine.  It's just an obnoxious disease that I have that I sometimes forget to manage properly.

So that's one.

I haven't worked in a while, so we only have one income right now and that does not leave a lot for child care.  All those other mom blogs you read?  They have regular child care.  Or their kids are in daycare or school.  There's no way they're taking care of the children alone during the weekdays and getting a shit ton of content written.

So that's two.

I have been writing my new show since September.   By "writing" I mean having a bunch of anxiety about it, searching for songs online, listening to a ton of music and writing and re-writing the opening a dozen times.  Incidentally, the opening is going to AMAZING.

There's three.

I am telling a story at Public School on the 11th and now have to work on that piece as well.  Since I'm sharing the bill with actual comedy people, I'm feeling SLIGHTLY pressured to, you know, not suck.

There's four.

Since Christmas, probably 80% of the time when he's awake Monty is happy ONLY if he's sitting in my lap.  Being near my lap, or right in front of my lap is not sufficient.  He needs to be IN my lap.  And he's not a little baby anymore.  He's a giant bruiser who wants to put everything in his mouth, most especially whatever it is I am holding and/or focusing on at the moment.  He doesn't even want to do anything once he's in my lap besides stand on me and either bite my collar bone or make fart sounds on my shoulder with his mouth.  I KNOW that some day I will long for the days when he wanted to cuddle in my lap, but when it's all day every day, that shit gets old FAST.  Plus, biting is not the same as cuddling.

There's five.

I have one free night this week... correction: I HAD one free night this week and I ended up having to spend three hours putting myself on tape for three different projects.  I am NOT complaining.  I am JAZZED to be auditioning.  But it takes time.

That's six.

By the time Kurt gets home from work at about 6:45 my brain is mushed and the only thing rolling around in it are the god damned tinkly songs that come out of Monty's various devil toys.  Until bedtime at which point my brain goes on full power and I have to take a Xanax just to get to sleep.  Techinically THAT'S the time I should get up and write, right?  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck you.

That's seven.

Also, this.  I mean, come on.

Please forgive any typos and my shitty attitude.  I'm now running ten minutes late.

Feed Me

Monty's pediatrician recommends starting babies on solid foods at six months.  He has a hand out with "helpful" information, including what foods to start with and how much.  He gave it to us at Monty's four month check up.  I put it on the fridge and forgot about it.  When Monty was a week shy of six months I decided to start him on solids.  I went with sweet potato because I'd heard somewhere along the way that that's a good first food and apparently I'm making all my parenting decisions based on information I hear in passing.  So, we steamed up some organic sweet potato, pureed it, and gave it to Monty.  This was met with a modicum of pleasure insofar as Monty didn't cringe or spit it out, so we counted it as a success.  The next day we tried apple sauce.

Then I saw the hand out on the fridge.

You should start with avocado.  And you should introduce one food at a time.  And you should feed them the new food only in the morning.  And you should feed them that food for 3-4 days before moving on to the next.  And you should start with two teaspoons on the first day, four on the second, an ounce on the third day, and two ounces on the third.  It should go like this:

Avocado
Sweet Potato
Apple Sauce
Banana
Squash
Carrots
Prunes
Green Beans

The first six can be interchanged, though you should try to stick to Veggie, Veggie, Fruit, Fruit, Veggie, Veggie, and etc. ad infinitum.

I got paranoid that starting Monty on solids a week before he turned six months was going to somehow ruin his digestive system.  So, I put the purees in the BPA/CANCER CAUSING CHEMICAL-FREE ice cube tray and stuck them in freezer.

A week later we got an organic avocado, mashed it up and gave it to Monty.

Three days later we gave him sweet potato.  Three days after that, Apple Sauce.  I sat down and created a food introduction schedule so that by Thanksgiving he would have a plethora of Thanksgiving-type foods to make things easier.  I swapped out a few of the first six foods and moved green beans up a couple notches even though GREEN BEANS ARE NOT ONE OF THE FIRST SIX AND IF YOU INTRODUCE THEM TOO EARLY YOUR CHILD WILL BE A SOCIOPATH.  Then I put his food schedule on a Google calendar so Kurt could keep abreast of where we were.

We went to Brooklyn for Thanksgiving to see my family and I emailed them beforehand with a list of the foods Monty was eating and a request that they get everything organic and steam them for the shortest amount of time possible in order to retain the most nutrients.

While back in Brooklyn (where Kurt and Monty and I stayed in the room I grew up, just BY THE WAY) my dad dug out a box of stuff from my childhood including a "Baby's Firsts" book.  There are only a handful of entries.  My parents were never the sentimental types, a trait I clearly picked up from them given that we don't even HAVE a "Baby's Firsts" book.  But, under "Baby's First Christmas" my mother, in beautiful penmanship, wrote the following:

"Daisy had candied yams (with rum and marshmallows) and whipped cream."

I was seven weeks old.

So, tonight we're giving Monty a bone in rib eye, mashed potatoes with butter and cream, green beans, and a piece of key lime pie.  And a couple fingers of Macallan 16 year.

"Food schedule".  Really.

True Story

Thursday, November 21st, 2:34pm.  Los Angeles:

(Listening to Sarah Vaughan)
Me:  Listen, I need to confess something.
Kurt:  Okay.
Me:  I don't like Sarah Vaughan.

Saturday, November 23rd, 10:17am.  New York City:

(Listening to Marilyn Maye)
My dad:  I have a dirty little secret to share.
Me:  Okay.
My dad:  I don't like Sarah Vaughan.