The 2007 Whoorlies

Welcome to the inaugural ceremony of the soon-to-be-coveted Whoorlie awards. You all look absolutely ravishing. Please take your seats.

Over the past several years, we’ve seen a plethora of blog-based awards. The Weblog Awards, The BOB Awards, The Bloggies, The Perfect Post Awards and the highly sought-after “Look At Me. I’m So Important That I Won A Blog Award” Blog Awards are just the tip of the iceberg. It seems almost every blog I frequent dons some sort of colorful button screaming “I’m better than you, turdbag. Bite me.”

Well, what about the other special and extremely gifted writers* out there? Are these people* not worthy of such awards? Maybe these people* are holding back, afraid that their* sheer brilliance and talent might alienate readers around the globe…their* words acting as a mask, YES, A MASK! A mask that hides the pure poetic genius festering inside their* souls! Have you considered that? HUH, Darren?! HUH?!

To that, I say TralalalaLAH! I, err I mean we, We LAUGH at your snubbery! We don’t need your precious awards!

Enter Whoorlies, stage right!

To qualify for a Whoorlie, you must have NO previous blog awards in your repertoire. And of course, you must be a genius and all that stuff I wrote up there.

On with the show!

Most Consistent ThemeGorillabuns. And that theme would be cocktails. She’ll drink you under the table. And then slay you with seriously wicked karaoke performances.

Best Artistic VisionChirky. As seen here and here and here.

Best Use of Haiku – Red Red Whine (formerly Guinness Girl). I am partial to this one.

Best Thoughts Of A Deep Variety (Making Whoorl Feel Like A Totally Shallow Asshat)Sizzle Says. Plus, I’m envious of her rack. See? There I go with the shallow again.

If I Had A 100 Things List, It Would Be Eerily SimilarMetalia. Seriously, avocado? Grass green? Football? Lip gloss? Good speller? The nose thing? I could go on forever.

The Only Top 100 Technorati Blogger That Reads WhoorlBrian Gardner. Although, really, do you care about the insignificant Whoorlie when you have 4,709 blogs linking to you? Really?

Best Public Service Announcement No Pasa Nada. She says NO, sucka! But are you saying no to the Whoorlie?

My Favorite CanadianKicky Boots. And this is big, ’cause I love me some Canadians. Maybe it’s because Avelyn and Wito are destined for a long-distance romance.

Best Photo Of Sleeping ChildHola, Isabel. Only one of the many reasons I read Isabel, but C’MON, that photo is HILARIOUS.

Congratulations to the 2007 winners. You may now adorn your sidebars with this beauty.

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Please contain your excitement. PLEASE CONTAIN YOUR EXCITEMENT! Let’s act like adults, mmmkay?

I now abruptly conclude the First Annual Whoorlie Awards. My brain has offically melted from all of the linkage.

Coming soon! The Average Post Awards!

*ahem…ahem…AHEM, YOU FOOLS!

A Blessed Year

2006 was a personal best. Let’s do a photo round-up, shall we?

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I am so thankful to live in a such a beautiful place with a wonderful husband and a truly amazing baby boy.

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I am thankful for my loving, supportive family and friends. I am also thankful that starting next week, I will be living my life as a SAHM to little Wito.

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But most importantly, I am thankful that despite my world turning upside down as a new mother, my fantasy football team STILL made it to the playoffs. Don’t even try to mess with THE DONGERS!

Happy New Year!

Happy Birthday To ME

On my way to Cabo San Lucas…sing along, It’s My Party And I’ll Drink-Lots-Of-Cerveza If I Want To, Drink-Lots-Of-Cerveza If I Want To, Drink-Lots-Of-Cerveza If I Want To, You Would Drink-Lots-Of-Cerveza Too If It Happened To YOOUUUUUUUUUUUU.

Do you know what would be the best birthday present ever? To see a BILLION TRILLION comments when I turn on my computer once I arrive in Mexico.

Then, I’ll show my family and pretend I’m a blogebrity. I’m self-serving like that.

Annnnd then, I’ll show my husband and say something along the lines of “Dude, will you look at these comments?! I’m a blogebrity! This could be my full-time job! I could stay at home with Wito and give him the love he needs!”

Annnnd then, he’ll tell me to keep dreaming.

Whatever.

C’MON…it’s MY BIRTHDAY and I have sore nipples!! Puh-lease?!

Let’s Talk About Boobies

I have to talk about the boobs. AGAIN.

And I really don’t want to talk about the boobs. Again.

But it’s really all I can think about lately. I have some decisions to make about breastfeeding and I need to vent.

It seems that I have thrush. Again.

To those who don’t know about thrush, it’s an annoying issue with breastfeeding mothers. Basically, it’s an overgrowth of common yeast found in all of us. In non-lactating people, it lives in harmony with other organisms in your body. Things can get out of hand, however, if this yeast is allowed to live in warm, moist (oh, I so hate that word) environments. Hence, a nursing mother’s breast and a baby’s mouth are perfect breeding grounds for the yeast. Then begins the classic passing-it-back-and-forth game between the mom and baby.

It doesn’t kill you, it doesn’t make you systemically ill, but it hurts to nurse. Like really hurts. Besides the pain, your nipples turn a lovely shade of angry fuchsia and something as pleasant as a breeze blowing will make you wince.

And how do you get this so-called thrush you ask? Well, that’s the best part! Although there are many culprits, the most common is taking antibiotics. Remember that little bout of mastitis I told you about? Well, looks like the antibiotics I took to clear that up probably caused this. Eye for an eye, I guess.

Awesome.

Breastfeeding is hard.

I never thought these ailments would be the end of my breastfeeding days. I love breastfeeding. I can NOT emphasize that enough. I was one of the lucky ones who never had problems with latching on, had plenty of milk, etc. I love the fact that my thriving 90th percentile son is solely nourished by me. I love the special moments when he looks up at me and smiles or the way he squeezes my hand while he’s feeding. Oh Christ, here come the waterworks. It’s more than the breast milk. It’s the connection.

I am so sick of fretting over this.

I have done more research on these breastfeeding issues than a graduate student would do for his/her thesis. I have contacted professionals, spent hours reading medical journals and it just makes me more frustrated.

Here is what the La Leche League suggests doing if you have recurrent thrush:

1. Avoid sugar, including fruit and artificial sweeteners, anything with yeast including breads, anything fermented, like wine and vinegar, and dairy products, except yogurt with live cultures. Cut back on high carbohydrate foods.
2. Set your dishwasher to heat the water hot enough to kill yeast on glasses, dishes and utensils for oral yeast in family members using these dishes. If you hand wash, dip the dishes and utensils in a bleach solution first.
3. Eliminate the use of Natural B vitamins such as Brewer’s Yeast for a time.
4. Brush your tongue as well as your teeth.
5. Replace toothbrushes regularly. Boil or soak in a 10% bleach solution after each bout of thrush.
6. Disinfect dental or orthodontic appliances each and every time they are removed from the mouth.
7. Discard roll-on or solid deodorant after the initial yeast outbreak has cleared.
8. Use regular, rather than antibacterial soap. Killing bacteria can make yeast overgrowth more likely.
9. Check for yeast growing in or under/around finger or toenails, under arms or breasts, in the groin or baby’s diaper area. Does baby suck thumb, finger or knuckles? Check them carefully. Wash baby’s hands frequently. Also check the finger and toenail beds and where skin touches skin for the entire family.
10. Take precautions to avoid the spread of yeast with family underwear, bras and towels.
11. Wear pantyhose with a cotton crotch, cut the crotch out of the panty or wear thigh-high hose.
12. Avoid synthetic underwear and tight jeans.
13. Change quickly out of sweaty exercise clothes or wet swimsuits.
14. Notice any correlation between your menstrual cycle and thrush reoccurrence, particularly a few days before menses starts.
15. Ask your partner to be checked for a yeast infection.
16. Wash your hands every time you use the toilet, handle your breasts or milk, put your fingers in your own or your baby’s mouth, change diapers (nappies).
17. Treat every single thing possible that you put in your mouth or your children put in theirs to kill yeast.
18. Disinfect inhalers or breathing treatment machines for asthma or other conditions between uses.
19. Replace makeup after clearing up a yeast infestation. Yeast can live on lipsticks, lip and eyeliners, eye shadows, mascaras, foundations and powders. Disinfect or replace makeup applicators.
20. Check everyone in the family for cracks in the corner of the mouth.
21. Have a veterinarian check animals for yeast. Pets with fur can harbor yeast, particularly in their ears. Feathered pets can have yeast overgrowths, too.

I ask you, when is it just TOO MUCH? If I spent the time doing all of these things, plus the anti-fungal cream, the vinegar rinses, treating the baby, I wouldn’t have any time to spend with my child.

Enough is enough.

But then begins the issue with formula. What is deterring me from using formula? I was a formula-fed baby and I think I turned out pretty decent, thank you very much.

Is it what I hear CONSTANTLY from the media and breastfeeding organizations about breastfeeding being superior? Or is it my inherent knowledge as a mother as to what’s best for my baby?

I know what’s best for my baby. A mutually satisfactory and healthy breastfeeding relationship. But we don’t have that anymore. What we do have is a lot of frustration, crying and worry on the mother’s part.

I’m at a loss.

Today My Life Changed Forever

OK. So it’s not the birth of Whoorlito, but oh oh OH, so very important.

My husband agreed to get DVR for our Direct TV. People, this is monumental. MONUMENTAL.

I have listened to you all sing the praises of Tivo for years now, secretly hoping I would be able to join the DVR family. I would casually bring up the subject here and there, only to hear a swift, resounding NOOOOOOOOO come forth from my husband’s lips. And I was fine with it- we really don’t watch that much television anyway and it was probably for the best.

You see, my husband didn’t own a television set when we first started dating. Not a one. Which frankly caught me off guard seeing that he was/is a huge sports fan. Now, it’s debatable which of us is a bigger sports nut, but I knew the no-TV thing was going to have to change if we were going to move forward. I mean, how could we possibly watch all of the college football, NFL, college basketball and March Madness (not to mention golf! love watching golf!) without a damn television set? Sports bars? Friends’ houses? No thank you.

Well, I won the battle rather quickly considering the first weekend we spent together was the OU-Texas football game in Dallas (where he lived at the time) and we didn’t have tickets. I do believe the first 24 hours of our long-distance relationship was spent buying a TV set.

Whoorl – 1
D – 0

Eventually, when we moved to Chicago and merged our belongings, we owned a whopping TWO television sets. Holy hell, I thought he was going to keel over. But it was our move out here to California that really shocked me. Not only did we buy a flat-screen television, but we purchased Direct TV with (DUN DUN DUUUN) NFL Sunday Ticket. My prayers had been answered.

Every. Single. NFL. Game. At. My. Fingertips.

I still quiver at the thought.

My point? Well, I thought the well had run dry. Here is a man who went from NO television to several of them- including a big grey satellite dish screwed into the side of his home. He was done. Finito. No mas.

I don’t know what changed his mind, my sweet persuasion (complete with pregnancy glow!) or my intermittent nagging.

Come to think of it, the mind-changing might have occurred when I mentioned something to the effect of, “I WILL be breast-feeding every 2-3 hours in the middle of the night and BY GOD if I don’t have something good to watch, guess whose ass will be dragged out of bed to entertain me?”

Yeah, that might have been the turning point.

It certainly wasn’t when I flailed my over-dramatic ass on the bed yesterday crying, “HOW CAN THERE BE TRUE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD WHEN ONE CAN’T WATCH BOTH SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE AND ROCKSTAR:SUPERNOVA? (sniff, sniff, sob, sob) WHY IS LIFE SO UNFAIR?”

Well, whatever I did worked. Happy days.