Friday morning, around 5 a.m., Suzianne became possessed by the devil.

She wailed.

And wailed.

And wailed.

She cried so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. This made her tired, which made her scream all the more.

She would not eat. In fact, the more I tried to offer her the boob, the more freaked out she got. The only way to soothe her was to swaddle her up, lay her on her side and drown her in an ocean of Sleep Sheep.

The day was so bad, it broke my 15 day tooth-brushing streak. (sigh)

No, I don’t have any photo evidence of these six hours of torment. I only have one from the half hour or so when she forgot what was making her scream, but was still pissed:

I was too overwhelmed and freaked out and sad and scared to document the screaming.

Finally, I texted Dave and asked him to come home from work. I honestly didn’t know what else to do.

Within an hour of my text, Dave was home. He scooped up Suzianne and somehow instantly made her all better.

Blessedly, Dave fed her five ounces of breast milk. She had not eaten in hours, which, according to Dr. Internet, clearly meant she was on death’s door.

Then, we went for a walk in Dave’s new fancy pants jogging stroller (thank you, co-workers of Dave!):

When we got home, she slept for another hour. It was heavenly.

And then last night, for the first time in 53 days, Suzianne did not demand a 5:30 a.m. feeding. This is HUGE people. HUGE.

So yesterday ended well, thanks to Dave The Baby Whisperer.

But I still haven’t brushed my teeth since Thursday night.


Five minutes in the morning with Suzianne Newman

Good morning, momma! Thank you for breakfast. LIFE IS SO AWESOME:

Wait. I suddenly am starting to get sleepy and might need to poop as well. LIFE IS SO COMPLICATED:

Have you ever had to poop when you are super tired? LIFE SUCKS, MOMMA. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?

Wow. I really do feel so much better after I poop on you. But, I no longer know if you are to be trusted:

Have I mentioned I’m tired? Why am I not asleep yet? This surely is your fault, momma:

Oh, geez, the hiccups. Really, momma? Why must you torture me?

It doesn’t matter. I’m not really tired anymore anyway. I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit until I wake up STARVING because you NEVER feed me:



I am going to run a 5k

I believe that if you publicly declare a goal, you’re more likely to achieve it. So, Internet, listen up: I will RUN a 5k this Summer. 

{crickets, crickets}

No, really, I swear.

I, Margie Newman, will RUN a 5K.

Dave used one of the Couch to 5k apps for his training and it worked for him. Also, my friend Ashley used a similar app to train early on and she recently RAN a half marathon!

I’m excited and a little nervous; I’m not a runner! But tonight, I’m proud to say, I completed Day 1 of the Ease into 5K eight week program:

Bonus: this new project is a great excuse to purchase cute gear, new ear buds and better shoes. So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice. If you’ve got favorite gear, feel free to share it in the comments.

Week 7: the weak-end becomes The Weekend

A few weeks ago, I was frazzled and Dave said, “Don’t worry, the weekend is only a few days away.” I was all, “HaHaHaHaHa! ‘The weekend’ is just another day to me.”

That was, now that I think back on it, rather rude of me.

To Dave, the weekend is a time when he is here and can help take the load off of me. And he does that–and does it gladly, and does it well. But still, for the past six weeks, “the weekend” was truly just another day because all days bled together in one Motrin and Colace-induced haze of boobs, fretting, eating, not sleeping, and Law and Order episodes. I just couldn’t enjoy “the weekend.”

But this weekend, was awesome. It was productive, fun, restful and romantic. {Dave would be puzzled by the last descriptor there, but I find taking me to the mall, pushing the stroller the whole time, helping me pick out a dress at Ann Taylor and then making me pancakes the next day quite romantic.}  

Some highlights of my first real, post-baby weekend:

I got stuff done: Saturday morning, I went to the bank, wrote one more thank you note, took Georgia to the groomer, and got my nails did {we have established how important productivity is to me}. While I was doing all of that, Dave was out on the town with Suzianne:

Baby’s first metro ride:  Saturday afternoon, we took the Metro to the mall. It was Suzianne’s first Metro ride! She was wide-awake and semi-cranky as we strolled the three blocks to the station, waited for, and boarded the train:

The train started moving; after about 60 seconds, she was out cold:

And she stayed that way for three hours, enabling Team Newman to take advantage of amazing sales at Cole Haan, Ann Taylor and Macy’s.

The next day, we all piled up in the bed until Noon, rotating shifts on feeding, diapering, napping and picture-taking:

I even read a book! It’s hilarious. I love Mindy Kaling.

And finally, there were pancakes (with Flax seed to boost breast milk production) and…wait for it…sugar-coated bacon. I am not even joking. Dave made it and I ate nearly all of it:

So what if Sunday night, Suzianne only went three hours between feedings and then decided sleep was no longer an option from 3 to 8 a.m. 

The weekend and I are reunited and I’ve ingested, like, seven pounds of bacon.

Now, there’s nothing I can’t handle and you should all be very afraid.