Wednesday, February 29, 2012

For your viewing pleasure

Speaking of all that talking and cooing and smiling my sweet boy has been doing lately...

Here's a short video from yesterday. I love the way he has started really working his mouth, making round oooo sounds and hard guh sounds. And the way he flares his little nostrils. And the way he expresses so much with those prize winning eyebrows of his. Ugh. I love my kid.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Happy/Sad boy

This is my fourth post in participation with the Just Write challenge over at The EO.


You've been awake so much today, which was wonderful because you talked and cooed and smiled at me for the first six hours of the day. But by the time you were tired, you were angry tired. Poor little boy. Your eyes were rimmed with red - you needed sleep so badly. But, my poor baby, you had gas pains too and you fought falling asleep. Even after you finally shut your tired eyes, your sleep was fitful. Jolting awake with tears and anger. I think maybe the big helping of broccoli I had last night did not agree with you. Point taken, Little Man.

You finally fell asleep hard on the way to Momma's meeting tonight and, like I good boy who is considerate of Momma and what she needs to get done, you slept the whole time. So grateful for you. Every day. You woke up just in time to show off your smile to everyone there. You little heart throb you.

But in the car on the way home, you got angry. You lost binky and it pissed you off. Poor kid. At a stop light I reached back and gave it back to you. Not thirty seconds later you spit it out again and were screaming at me. Binky was not gonna cut it. And your cries slay me these days. They have gotten more and more pitiful as you have gotten bigger. When you were brand new, your cries were practically a reason for celebration - use those lungs baby boy! If they meant anything at all, it was simply that you were hungry. Now, you cry because you're angry. You cry because you're sad. You cry because you're tired. You cry because you hurt. And it kills Mommy. I literally have a physical reaction to the sound. So I arch back and stretch to reach you, leaving one hand on the wheel and my eyes on the road. I'm sure this is just about the most unsafe thing I can do. But I can't help it. I know I can comfort you, which makes it impossible for me not to. I let you suck on my finger, and you're semi-content. Irritated that I'm trying to trick you, but appeased for now.

As soon as we're home, it's straight to the couch. Boppy, burp rag, nursing. You're frantic - like you've been starving for days. After a few minutes, you finally start to calm. A few minutes more, and you're my happy boy again. I'm so relieved. My heart is literally warm. Maybe a little fuzzy. I'm staring at your face and I lean in closer and closer until our noses are almost touching. Hello, my son.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Messy Pants

He saves his messiest diapers for his Dad. Justin starting saying so two or three weeks ago and I just laughed at him. I change plenty of messy diapers. But now I’m starting to believe it’s true. Drake already thinks it’s funny to mess (literally) with his Dad.
I was getting ready to feed him but he needed to be changed. I was cuddled up with a blanket on the couch and really didn’t want to get up again. I practically begged. Justin tried to refuse – Drake had been gassy and Justin thought for sure it was going to be a bad diaper change. I swore up and down I didn’t think Drake had actually pooped – just lots of gas. Justin finally gave in.
90 seconds later I hear, “Oh! No poop, huh?! Holy cow Son!” I decided to get up anyway and go see how bad it was.
It was bad.
Really bad.
And so freaking hysterical. It was the kind that starts to go up their backs. And seriously stinky. I don’t know what it is with my kid that he’s stinking so badly already! I tried to help Justin a little, feeding him wipes as quickly as I could, keeping Drake’s feet out of the mess. But mostly I laughed at Justin. He almost gagged. When it got on his hand, he made this sound that was something like the sad whiny of a horse.
And that was it for me. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t move. I was bent over my knees in a ball of hysterics, tears pouring out of my eyes. It really was the worst diaper in a week, and Drake saved it for Dad. Good boy.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Free-For-All Fridays

When you're a blogger, you start reading other people's blogs. When you read other people's blogs, you find links to even more blogs. When you follow links to more and more blogs, you find links to all kinds of things.
What I'm saying is that when you're a blogger, you spend a lot (I mean, a lot) of time on the internet. It's the nature of the beast.
And so I have things I want to share with you that really have absolutely nothing to do with my son or my life as a mother. Up to this point, I've refrained because that's not the point of this blog. But I've decided to give myself a free pass on Fridays to tell you about anything and everything.
So - a few links for you:
I just found Bloglovin, and yes, I'm lovin it. It's a great way to follow a lot of blogs, from different sites (Wordpress, Blogger, personal sites) all in one place. AND you can download an app for your phone. Awesome. You can even follow my blog with Bloglovin
Speaking of blogs I love, please take a minute to visit one or both of these:
Petite Biet: Belle and her husband Gaby raising a beautiful baby girl (Biet) in NYC. It's fun to live a city life vicariously through them. And Belle is wonderful. Her posts are honest but optimistic - a blend I really appreciate. She's also been very helpful to me on a personal level, so I am very grateful for her. The mommy blogging world really is an interactive network, but people like Belle who go out of their way to help someone else out make it feel like a community.
Our Little B Words: I've told you about Alicia Stucky once before, but I am forever in awe of her, so I'm going to do it again. This woman is incredible. Her family has been through so much in the past year, and her spirit and strength have been inspiring. She's an extremely talented writer - so much voice, insight, and humor - handy with a camera, and she has some very cool kids. You won't regret reading a post or two.
For the other Moms out there - check out Totsy. Major discounts on stuff for you and baby. You have to become a member, but it's free.
If you're a coffee lover, check out Find new coffees by entering your criteria (Mine: Organic, whole bean, medium roast). You can start a subscription so you always have fresh coffee coming your way. Plus - I'm excited to have some insider information for you! - if you enter the coupon code BLOGME5, you will receive $5 off your first purchase.
And lastly, I've been drinking my greens lately. I found this recipe through a friend on Pinterest, and it's true, you really can't taste the spinach. Just peanut buttery goodness. :) And now that I've conquered the fear of drinking something that intense shade of green, I feel empowered to play with this idea.

Happy Friday everyone!



Thursday, February 23, 2012

Small Style

I'm linking up with Mama Loves Papa for the first time for her Thursday Small Style idea. I love it. Show off my kid? It's my favorite thing to do! Show off the cute outfits he wears? Uh, yes please. Because I wait for months for him to wear my favorite ones and then he powers right through them. Immortalizing them on here seems like a brilliant idea to me.
So, without further adieu, here are some pics of my handsome boy in one of my favorite outfits so far:

Jacket and Pants: First Impressions from Macy's. A shower gift from my beautiful friend Cynthia.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

It's no way to celebrate a birthday

A doctor's visit, I mean.
Not that two months really counts as a birthday.  More of a milestone really. And not that we don't love our pediatrician. So far,  he has been great with Drake. But at this point in Drake's life, doctor's visits equal shots. And that's so uncool.
Congratulations! You made it to two months! Stab. Four months! Congrats again! Stab. Stab. SIX MONTHS! Stab. Stab. Stab.
It killed me.
Justin and I held his little hands while he lay on the table and cooed at us. We smiled and cooed back; I told him it would all be over so quick. I was comforting myself every bit as much as I was comforting him. I have a serious needle phobia, and though I know he's too young to pick up on it now, I don't want to get in the habit of freaking my kids out at their own doctor's visits. I tried to keep it together as the nurse took out the little tray of immunizations with needles that looked much too long for my Little Man's leg.
Now, I know speed is good where these things are concerned. Get it over with. But seriously, it seems so harsh. "Stab" is not at all an inaccurate verb. Instantly, his eyes flashed open as wide as they would go, and for one small second - I swear to you - he looked right at me with a look of such intense betrayal... Then, all at once, he was beet red and overcome with screams and tears.
"I'm ok. I'm ok." I had to say out loud over and over again. But then I  looked down at my baby boy's leg and there was a dark red streak of blood running down. Now this was completely not ok. Blood, especially my baby's, belongs inside. I lost it: hot tears rolling down my cheeks, trying desperately not to let it turn into audible sobs in front of the nurse.
She was quick. I give her credit for that. And the second she was done she told me to "scoop him up." I did, and we both cried for another minute or so.
And that was it really. A little fussiness for an hour or so. Tender legs - easily soothed by a warm bath.
But still, there ought to be a better way to congratulate our little people on their milestones. If only he could have cake...

Big Man and his Daddy. Two months and two days old. <3

The Stats:
Height: 23 in. (the middle of normal, according to Dr. Reynolds)
Weight: 14 lbs. 13 oz. (The upper end of normal)
Head Circumference: 41 1/4 cm. (Also the upper end of normal. It's all those brains you're growing. ;))

Monday, February 6, 2012


I put him in size six month jammies last night and they weren't even too big. Three months was starting to get a bit snug, but I guess I was choosing denial. I wanted to put the six month ones on and say, "Oh, see? These are still way too big."
But no. They fit.
It wasn't even three weeks ago that I finally packed up all the newborn stuff. I reorganized his dresser with all the three month old outfits in the top drawer and everything bigger down below. And now it looks like I'll have to do it all over again. Already.
My son will be two months old tomorrow. Don't torture me with six month old labels!

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Nothing gets done (and that's ok)

It's Sunday evening and we've just gotten home from a long, but fun, weekend of social engagements. You're passed out in your car seat, so I leave you in it on the living room floor. Maybe now I can finally do those dishes that have been piling up since *blush* Friday morning. Maybe I can even put away the non-perishables that have been sitting on our counter since my last grocery trip. But first I need to feed the dogs. Oh, and pee.
Just as I'm headed for the bathroom, a whimper comes from your car seat. I tell myself it's nothing. Just a dream. But by the time I've finished peeing, you're full-on crying.
So here I am: sitting on the couch, chicken pecking at the computer keys with my left hand while you nurse in my right arm. In a minute you'll need to burp, and that takes two hands. Then we'll change your diaper and put you in some jammies. I'll try to get you settled in bed, and that will likely take nursing again. Which means me crawling in bed with you.
And so it will be gone. My little burst of energy that I had when I came home will be spent. It will be after 11 pm and I'll be exhausted. And the dishes still won't be done and the food still won't be put away. Not to mention the state of the floors or the dusting that's been neglected for too long already.
I know that taking care of you - feeding you, loving you, breathing you in - isn't nothing. In fact, it's the greatest kind of "something" I am capable of doing. I tell myself not to worry about the mess, to savor these moments, because already I feel them flying by.
Sit on the couch with you in my arms for thirty more minutes. Snuggle with you in bed for one more hour. It's all that really matters.
The dishes do not.
But they're driving me crazy.