the fattest baby alive 

today i spun!

I went to the gym today and took a spinning class led by a woman named Becky. It is always disheartening to take any sort of fitness class from a person who is overweight, and, unfortunately, Becky had a few extra rolls protruding from her black leotard. If the instructor is in amazing shape, then you feel like one day, if you just keep at it, you will be in amazing shape too. But if your instructor is a little chunky, then you feel like even if you keep at it for months, or even years, you might still be chunky. Still, I took the class, and only twenty minutes into it I felt like giving up. But there was a svelte blonde in the class who kept looking at me like she expected me to give up. And I wasn't going to give her that satisfaction. So I kept on going. Together, our class climbed imaginary hills as we listened to the Blue Man Group. Becky kept asking us to cheer, and I kept ignoring her. And before I knew it the class was over. I've lost eighteen pounds since the baby was born. I've got twenty more to go. She doesn't know it yet, but Becky will be seeing a lot more of me.

the day after

Let me just take one moment to express my disappointment in all (well mostly just the middle) of America this day after the election. Last night, I watched all my hopes slowly slip down the drain. Looking at the mostly red map this morning, I came to the conclusion that the people in this country are becoming mindless drones driven by misguided religion. Analysts say that voters chose Bush because of the war on terror and for moral reasons. What could be less moral than sending poor people's kids to their death in an unjust war, drilling for oil in Arctic Preserves, and catering to huge corporations at the expense of the majority of Americans? Why don't the people who vote for Bush see anything clearly? Why? Why? Why?

That said, here are some Halloween pictures. Ben looked really cute and Rito was ravishing.

Uncie Mike and Rito 

little bear 

lauren, bridget, jillian, ben 

happy halloween! 

greetings from the trenches

I am now taking showers daily, though yesterday, I put him down for a nap, jumped in the shower, and the second the shampoo touched my hair, Ben started screaming. So I had to get out asap, throw on my robe, and rescue him from the bassinet. He was--surprise!--hungry, so he ate, poohed and fell asleep, and I could resume my grooming. I never realized how much I took for granted long showers, and whole, uninterrupted minutes of arranging my hair.

Ben has stopped sleeping at night. He likes to pretend to fall asleep for a few minutes, teasing Ryan and me with the prospect of sleep, only to open one eye, then both. He then lets out a high pitched squeal, and we have to sing him back to sleep. Last night he was up from11am to 1am and 2:30 am to 5:30 am and 6:30am to 8am...It's a good thing he's so cute or I might not hang out with him anymore.

gassy ben 

angry bath time 

a rare moment of sleep 

3 ounces! 

creepy... 

pumping

Today I conquered the breast pump. My book says to "pump and store this liquid gold" in case I get sick, so after sterilization, hours of reading and a length assembly process, I hooked my breasts up to the plastic suction cups, closed my eyes and thought of Ben, and pushed "on." It was easier than I thought! I pumped a whole three ounces, enough for one feeding! I'm a champion!

Beautiful boy

So I created this website basically for Ryan and myself, so we can have an outlet and a forum for our obsession with Benjamin Ian Bartlett. We invite and expect all family members and friends to also be obsessed with him.

Ben was born on October 5th, and--don't let anyone tell you otherwise--it was extremely painful and it was 13 hours long and epidurals are a miracle sent from God. I haven't slept more than three hours in a row, and the other night, I fell asleep while feeding him, waking myself when my head lolled back and hit the wall. The plus side to all of this is that Ryan and I can't stop staring at him-- he is so beautiful--and his head smells amazing. Even his pooh smells like buttermilk (although that's just the breast milk talking).

A sidenote: today I learned that in Mexico, it is considered bad luck to keep the umbilical cord after it falls off. You have to take it to a forest and bury it--keeping it would make the baby fearful. I think I'll just stick it in my scrapbook instead.

A plea: please don't call him Benji. It reminds me of Benji the Hunted (that dog). You are welcome to call him Benny instead.

with daddy 

with grandpa 

with brian 

with uncle david--ben's in the blanket 

right after birth--we were both traumatized