The King is in Arizona for his best friends wedding. When he booked his plane ticket almost 9 months ago, he didn’t think leaving me and The Baby would be that hard.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning and him freaking out about being away for two nights. He kept assuring me that this was harder on him than me. I think I believe him.

The Baby and I have been having a great time. We slept in yesterday morning and even made muffins. Then we went out shopping (hello, new jeans for me and snazzy gold flip flops from Old Navy) and for a little walk with some of my girlfriends.

On our way back to my apartment, we witnessed a horrible car crash right in front of my building. The most horrible part of it was when the woman who was hit jumped out of her car and ran to the back seat to get her little baby out of it’s car seat. The baby was fine. But it really scared me. I haven’t had to worry about things like my own baby before. It made things a little more real.

We stuck around the scene and gave our statements to the police. The driver of the car looked like he had had a heart attack and passed out before he lost control. Very scary.

It was all very Law & Order. That part was cool. And the part about the baby being safe was also cool.

The King is having a lovely time in Arizona. He’s the best man, so he is busy doing the wedding thing, and swimming in the pool at the hotel. But I know he’d still rather be here with us.

And I sort of feel like The Baby misses his Dad.

I’m getting much better at getting up in the middle of the night to feed The Baby. This is a good thing, since I didn’t like being on the verge the first few nights. Last night I swear he even smiled at me.

(The smile could have been after a huge spit up and a pure reaction to that. Or it could have been because he loves me so much. It was hard to tell.)

(The cheap ass dial up we have in our apartment is a joke. And so today I packed up The Baby and we are using the computer in the apartment lobby. It’s usually taken, but apparently the middle of the day on a Thursday is prime time for NO ON to be on the computer. Thank goodness, because there is no way I could check my over 300 e-mails on dial up. And really, no way I can check them on high speed either. But a girl can dream.)

Thanks to all the comments and well wishes. Seriously. You guys make me feel so much better about being a Mom. Thanks for the support (and for reminding me how freakin cute this kid is!)

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Updated to add:

Oh, I know how lucky I am with the breastfeeding. And that’s all it is, luck. I can take no credit. And I don’t even think The Baby can take any credit.

Things I have learned in the last week:

• I can do more than I thought I could with just one free hand.
• Feeding a newborn is the time equivalent of a full time job (and why doesn’t anyone talk about that?) The pay sucks.
• Breastfeeding is easy. I’ve figured out how to succeed at it. Don’t read anything about it before hand. That’s right. Go into it knowing nothing and expecting nothing. And you’re baby will suck like no other. And it will be awesome.
• I am not so good at getting the “thank you” cards out. I used to be good at it. No so much anymore. (But that doesn’t mean I’m any less appreciative of all the wonderful people in our lives!)
• The King continues to rock my world. And he will be missed while he’s in Arizona for his best friends wedding this week. (Please pray that I can handle it alone. All praise for single Mom’s everywhere!)
• The Baby is really into Raffi. Specifically “Baby Beluga”, which is the only Raffi song I know. I sang it to him when I was pregnant and he seems to remember it. And likes it.
• The human body is amazing. The changes I have gone through in the last 10 months are just amazing. I went from huge to not so huge. It’s odd to deal with the ever changing body. For some reason I can’t seem to get my mind around it.
• The Baby wears no less than six outfits a day. Let’s not even talk about the number of diapers he goes through. Good thing they are free. Oh, they aren’t? Crap.
• Sleep? Who needs it? Not me….I guess.
• I love my little family. And am looking forward to our future together.

(and I’m currently feeding The Baby, blogging, and watching Veronica Mars. Dude, are VM and Logan finally getting back together? TV Goddess, please tell me it’s true!)

My Mom went home Sunday morning. It broke my heart. Say what I will about my Mom, I love the women. Maybe even more now that I understand what she did to bring me into this world. It broke my heart to tell her to go ahead and fly home and not change her plane ticket for next weekend. I had to tell her that we really didn’t need her help anymore. I cried. She cried. But the truth was that The King and I are handling things just fine.

Plus she’s coming back in June for a week, with my Dad and little sister. That makes my heart feel a little better. Phew.

So far I have only.changed.two.diapers. That’s right, Internet. Two. That means The King has changed all of the others. It also means that he is officially The Best Husband/Dad in the World. And I love him even more for it.

It was a beautiful day today here in Seattle. Which means the sun was actually out. Hard to believe, I know. We took the opportunity to put The Baby in the stroller and take a little stroll downtown. I seriously expected people to just come up to us and tell us how beautiful our baby is and how impressed they are that I was up and walking (and even had lipstick on). Not one person came up to us. And really, I was surprised.

Apparently I think the world revolves around our little family.

(And I’m still a little upset at Katie Holmes for stealing my thunder. And really appalled at Tom for doing an interview with Entertainment Tonight three days after his baby was born. Shouldn’t he be home with his lady and new baby? And not in some studio talking about how awesome he is? I mean, really?!)

(and why won’t spell check work at this time of the morning? That should be against the law…since I’m not awake enough to spell check it myself!)

Wow….so when we went in to the hospital on Monday night, I had no idea that we’d be there until Friday night.

We just got home. We’re all doing well.

Except The Baby wants to eat all of the time. I guess that’s a good sign. Mostly I just think it means that he is just going to get bigger and bigger.

Thanks to my only “real world” friend who knows about this blog. She was good enough to post an update comment on my last post. I felt horrible not being able to inform the Internet about what has been going on!

And thanks to EVERYONE and their well wishes. We all totally appreciate it.

Here’s the quick version (I promise a more detailed version to follow at some point over the next week or so):

Pushed for two hours. Head was in the wrong position. Doctor tried to turn head. Didn’t work.

C-section. So scared.

Baby King (until I come up with a better pseudonym-but don’t worry, we did actually come up with a name we both just love) was born on Tuesday April 18th at noon. He weighed 9 lbs. 11 oz. and was 22 inches long. He is perfect. And so snuggly.

Apparently The King and I make beautiful babies.

We couldn’t be happier.

(Notice how I didn’t even mention anything about TomKat’s baby being born on the exact same day!? Mostly I’m still mad about them trying to steal my thunder…)

We were scheduled to be induced yesterday.

We sat by the phone all day long.

They never called.

I called this morning.

They just called me back.

We’re #3 in line to be induced today.

They haven’t called anyone in yet.

We’re thinking this isn’t going to happen today.

In fact, I’m not sure this is ever going to happen at this point.

I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday. I think the doctor gasped out loud when she found out that I’ve been working all week. Which means that today is officially my.last.day!

An induction has been scheduled for Sunday. The King and I will be “on call” that day until they are ready for us.

My Mom arrives tomorrow.

Thanks to Frema for giving me something post about today. Frema, you are my hero.

Six Weird Things About Isabel:

1- I check the shower when I get home. You know, to make sure that someone isn’t hiding in there, ready to pounce and kill/rape/harm/maim me. You think I’m kidding? I’m not. This is a new thing since we’ve moved into our apartment. Not sure where it came from. But I’m pretty sure it constitutes for a “weird thing”.

2- This is something that I don’t usually tell people. Until I’ve known them for a long time. And can trust them. Can I trust you? Okay. I have no nasal septum. None at all. Maybe I did at one point. But I don’t anymore. I discovered this one day in the shower when I was about 24. It freaks me out. It freaks The King out. It would freak you out. I have seen a doctor about it and there is nothing they can do for me. All he said was to lay off the coke. Um, okay. I will continue laying off the coke.

3- When I wake up in the middle of the night and have trouble sleeping, I do the alphabet in my head. Backwards. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, so it isn’t as hard as it used to be. But it still can put me to sleep. Try it, you might like it.

4- I didn’t know there was a difference between a car that had a manual transmission or an automatic. Even after I got my driver’s license. I had just always seen my parents drive manuals, so that’s really all I knew about. I can only drive manuals. Driving an automatic is too hard for me.

5- In my younger days I had a goal to kiss a boy who’s name started with every letter in the alphabet. (What is it with me and the alphabet?) Oh there was an actual list, that I kept updated. I had a lot of “J’s” and “K’s”, but that “Y” is a killer. I threw the list away right before I moved out to Seattle to marry The King. (Does this constitute as “weird” or just “slutty”?)

6- I always have a tissue with me. Always. I tell The King that it’s what I like about being me. I never have to worry about not having a tissue. (This may relate to #2 and my “nose issues”.) I keep them in my pants pocket, my purse, my desk drawer, my bedside table, even my pajamas pocket. This really isn’t the “weird” part. The “weird” part is that they aren’t necessarily clean tissues. I use them until they are dead. Which is super gross. The King hates, hates, hates it. He’s always is telling me to “throw that damn snot rag away!”

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And because I have the same fear as Frema and just can’t bring myself to post more than once a day, here’s the e-mail exchange between The King and I this morning in regards to the Lotto pool we do at work:

The King: Get us in on that Lotto. And maybe get us our own ticket too. It’s up there now. Up there. What an awesome way to start the kid’s life… rich.

Isabel: I only have $3 and that’s for lunch. I had to buy deodorant this morning.

The King: You better get 20 bucks out of the bank then. It’s an investment, baby. Lottery addiction needs to be fed, not starved. If you’re really going to be a lottery player, you need to understand that it’s about sacrifice.

Isabel: Is that why Jesus likes it? Because he’s into sacrifice?

The King: I guess. You’d have to ask him. As long as he doesn’t have the winning number, we’re cool. Real, hardcore players use their lunch money to buy tickets. That’s all I’m saying. It’s an easy decision for them, between the chance of winning $220MM and smelling like Teen Spirit. You’re competing with a group of very serious players in this game and you need an edge if you want to win.

I just want to know when I became so “hardcore” in my life.