Hey, Valentine. Hop on. I'll show you my crib.

I bought a treadmill and was so excited to finally have it delivered and set up yesterday. I was slightly worried, and amused, upon seeing the man flipping through the manual as he struggled to put it together. I paid an extra $80 to have it assembled assuming the person assembling it would know what he or she is doing. At any rate, three hours later he had it complete. We gave him a tip, thanked him for his work, and sent him on his way with a diet coke. Southern hospitality, man.

And then I tried playing with my new toy and it set off all the power in the room after 20 seconds. When we tried to remedy that with the breaker switches, we managed to turned off the power elsewhere in the apartment. Meanwhile, Felicity was tired and hungry and needed her bath. After some frustration, we eventually figured it out and were not without power all night. My treadmill just sat there, sad and useless.

Damn, I was so looking forward to running on it. This is my life now: running on a treadmill is euphoria. I'm instantly a much more pleasant person once I'm drenched in sweat. I'm sure I'm developing a reputation as the crazy lady who brings her baby in a stroller to the apartment gym. I try to get there in the morning when no one is around while Felicity is sleeping. If I work it right, I can get a decent 4 or 5 mile run in before she wakes up, but it doesn't always work out the way I hope and I'm left feeling like a lazy, unmoving blob some days. It's too hot outside and Felicity is too young for me to run with her in a jogger.

Anyway, I spoke to a lady in the office and she's sending a maintenance person over tomorrow to switch something or another on our breaker. Wait, is that even the right word? Or is it braker? What is it breaking? What is electricity? Why do I not know these things? I just want to run in place while staring at a wall; that's all I know.

Also, I haven't read a book or counted on my abacus or used my brain almost at all since Felicity was born and I'm afraid it's turning to mush, so I hereby declare that I will start reading again. They have boarding schools for babies, right? That would really free up a lot of time so I can pursue my hobbies full time again.

Happy two months to the real royal baby, princess poopy pants.

She had her two month check up today where she received her first vaccinations. That was that. You know, a baby getting shots. She's now a little over 11 pounds, and slowly resembling the late, great James Gandolfini: 

Sorry, baby. I love the extreme close-up double baby chin photos. Here's a more flattering angle, saying hi to daddy in the morning: 

Now we're home from the doctor's office, which was a major hassle and small victory on my part. Getting ready and out the door with a small, dependent, hungry, poopy, tired baby is something I'm still figuring out. 

So you want to hear all about my labor and delivery? Every last detail? How my vagina is fairing? No?

I was obsessed with reading birth stories when I was with child and then not at all when she was no longer squirming inside of me. I made a note to self to maybe not share the expulsion of my baby with the Internet. So here's a photo rendition instead! 

Last belly shot, 38 weeks and 3 days. I really wanted that shirt at Target and figured I'd go back post baby. HA HA! There's no way I can shove my chest into that now.

Like a million hours into labor, Eugenio asked to take a picture, to which I said hell to the no. "Your sister said you'll regret it later." I don't think I'd be terribly sad without this precious moment, but OK.

Felicity's first photo. She was so swollen but I was relieved that she was cute. Imagine over twodays of labor for an ugly baby. No thank you. 

The one second I got to hold her before she was taken away for two hours for observation. She had fluid in her lungs. I was mischievous and snuck up to see her anyway. A cool nurse let me feed her, as she was sticking out her tongue in obvious hunger. 

See.

After I fed her. Eugenio was so excited to hold his baby. Swoon. 

My content babay, still a little swollen.

Going home outfit. On our way out people kept asking if she was a boy. Ladybug, hello. People always comment on what a handsome boy she is, even when she's all decked out in pink pants, heals, lipstick, all that. That's fine. I'm not about instilling gender norms anyhow.

At home in her crib. MTV just left after filming. She was tired. 

When she saw my engorged breasts for the first time. "Oooohhh chile', them is some big titties." We're working on her grammar.

One week. She gets my jokes.

And some more cute pictures and then I'll stop. Maybe a look-at-my-baby! photo post is even worse than providing the details of her expulsion. Whatever. I'll delete it later. Pictures, pictures! 

Felicity will be two months on Tuesday. We're already planning her Halloween costume. I'm a mom now. How bizarre. It seems as if I've forgotten how to write. Typing on my iPhone is really a pain in the ass. I hope you enjoyed this picture post.

OK, bye. Until another nursing session.

I'm so smart.

Just realized blogger has an app. I can now blog all day long while nursing my baby. I celebrate this. I find myself once again in a new city with no friends, this time with a baby on my boob, so I'm clearly in desperate need of attention. 😀