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I don’t typically like to write about tv, much less American Idol, but I do have to say this. If you’re on any audition at all, and one of the judges raises his sheets of paper from his desk such that his face is covered from the nose down, it’s safe to bet that the paper is the only thing preventing you from watching someone laugh in your face. How do the contestants, as young as some of them might be, not understand that this is what Randy is doing? The fact that Simon IS laughing in their face is just confirmation that they have stepped over some line from “bad” to “comically bad”. So, here’s some advice for all would-be idols. Do not get mad at Simon - he is just doing in the open what Randy is doing behind the thin veil of a sheet of paper. You may as well find out now that you are not talented, and act accordingly. This is a great lesson in self-awareness, so take advantage of the learning opportunity. This does not mean you have no talent, it just means that your talent isn’t singing. Get over it. Move on. Everyone has a talent and you now know that yours is not singing, so that’s one down from the list of possible gifts. Dreams should not be broken, they should just change over time.

Now please excuse me while I attend to the screaming baby.

Today I woke up at 3AM when my hand hit a wet spot on my shirt. Slightly disturbed to find most of my t-shirt wet, I checked myself for the source of the problem. It was my boobs. They even got the sheets wet. As Rachel was sound asleep, I pumped for a while, and then went back to bed too tired to change into a clean shirt. I guess my body is telling me to either breast-feed or pump more than I have been. What I’m wondering now is what will happen in February when I go back to work. I’m trying to imagine the look on a client’s face if I leak in a meeting. Ugh. One more question for my pediatrician.

I’m not going to say that last Saturday was the first time I’ve fallen asleep at 4:30AM on a couch, with sore nipples, surrounded by empty bottles, with someone else on top of me. Or that, then and now, I wasn’t scared to move for fear of waking the other person. But, I am going to suggest that if I’d been married during a previous instance, my reaction upon hearing my husband walk into the living room would not have been “this is yours. I’m going to bed.”

I weighed Rachel last night, and she is 11.5 lbs. That’s one big seven week old kid. My only complaint is that she always wants to eat. Then again, anyone who can increase her body weight by more than 50% in seven weeks on just milk…well, I suppose she should be hungry. As a result of her hunger, she can’t seem to get to sleep. She struggles against the Miracle Blanket, otherwise known as the baby straight jacket, and the expression on her face says “Can’t sleep. Must. Stay. Up. Food! Where’s the food!” So, I have a baby who can sleep through the night, but can’t get to sleep at night. I’m back on my college sleep schedule of staying up late and waking up early, only I’m about to turn 35, and that just isn’t going to work for me. And her defiance against the straight jacket is working. Most mornings I find her partially, if not entirely, busted out. I’m raising a little Houdini. I’d better start preparing now for her teenage years.

Josh is back to work, and most days I wish I was back to work. This job is way harder than my other one. At this job I take orders from someone who’s younger than me, way shorter than me, and I have no assistant. I still think I’m a very lucky woman to have such a precious girl, but when I go back to the office I’m going to feel like I have nothing to do all day. Still, I’ll miss that face.