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 ROASTe.com. 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!

Love,

Em

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.

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. ;))

Ugh.

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!

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.

The Weight of You

This is my third post in participation with the Just Write challenge.
_________

We’re sitting on the couch after a movie. It’s definitely Mommy’s bedtime, but we have to wait for Dad to put the sheets back on the bed. I don’t mind because it means a few more minutes of this. This wonderful cuddling we are doing. You are passed out on my shoulder – out like a light. Your little body has already gotten so heavy, and I feel the limp weight of you hanging on my shoulder like a sack of rice. The sweetest sack of rice you could possibly imagine.

There is a burning deep underneath my left shoulder blade from leaning awkwardly to my right to keep you comfortable, but I can ignore it for a while longer. It’s worth it to have your soft, chubby little cheek resting against mine. Sitting like this I can feel your heavy, sleepy breath against my neck. I can smell your sweet, milky smell. Your fingers curl sporadically against my back. Your cheeks flinch and your eyelids flutter with your dreams. What is it you dream about, sweet boy? Am I in there somewhere?

The burning is too much, so I sadly shift back to my left. You fall away from my cheek. At least now I can get a look at you. I notice the way your hair is starting to thin. I was hoping you would keep your hair, but I know I’ll love a bald baby, too. Your perfect lips are working, pursing and relaxing in your dreams. I think that dream must have something to do with at least one part of me.

How are you possible? You little bundle of perfection. I feel the weight of you, heavy on my chest and immense in my heart.

What amazes me about you

In a word: Everything.
But let me try to be more specific.


Your hands.

They were one of the first things I noticed about you after you were born. I did the typical first time parent thing and immediately counted to make sure there were ten little fingers and ten little toes in the appropriate places - and I was struck - Wow! Look at those hands! They were so big for such a small little thing. More like paws than hands. That's what I started calling them: your man paws. It's one of the reasons you are Momma's Mr. Man.
Every great man I have known has had good hands. Large and strong. I don't know how that has worked out, but it has. Maybe their hands were good because they were great men; because they were men of character who worked hard every day. Or maybe their hands had been tools that allowed them to become the great men they were. I'm not sure. But either way, my son, you have the hands of a great man. I hope they will serve you well. I hope one day you will use them to build, create, and to protect. But until then, I look forward to watching you learn to use them to play and to write.
And, of course, to hold Mommy's hand.

Your hair.

You had so much of it when you were born! Everywhere! Your arms and  back were covered in dark fuzz. And you had sideburns! No, not just sideburns: chops. Full on, 1970's chops. They were impressive. (A few hours after you were born I announced to the room that I thought you looked like Wolverine from the X-Men. You have these angular eyebrows, you had the chops and all the hair, and your head was slightly coned in the back in a way that lent itself to the whole angular thing that Wolverine has going on. We all laughed and momma felt proud of her Little Man.) Not a single person who has met you has neglected to mention your awesome hair. Of course, the body hair has long since rubbed off. And now the hair on your head is beginning to fall out in patches, which is sort of bittersweet. I loved your hair so much. I would smooth it behind your ears as you nursed or slept in my lap. But a bald baby is a pretty great thing, too.

Your smile.

You don't use it often - you're too busy being curious about the world - and I'm not entirely sure you've even used it deliberately yet, but man... when you do, it changes everything. All is right. The worlds shifts. Stars align. Hearts melt. All of that.
It's that good.

Your nursing skills.
You were a champ from the start. It took you less than 45 minutes from the moment you were born to latch. You just did it on your own, like you knew it was what you were supposed to do, and you never really stopped.
And to that end:

How fast you are growing.

From this ....                                                                                               ...  to this!! In 7 weeks!

Seriously. You are unstoppable. You weighed 7lbs.8oz. when you were born. Exactly one week later, you weighed 8lbs.9oz! Another week later you were already 9lbs.3oz. Two weeks more: 11lbs.3oz! Your original 21 inches stretched to 22 3/4 in that same five weeks, so you stayed pretty skinny despite the weight gain. But I think you're slowing down on the vertical growth, because boy! have you begun to pack on the rolls! Up until now, you've been Mr. Man or Little Man to me, which I liked because it was so specific to you - no other baby has ever been Mr. Man in my life. But it is becoming increasingly difficult to avoid the Chunky Monkey nickname - one I've used for multiple chunky sweet babies in my life - because that's what you have become: a chunker. Other suggested nicknames to accommodate for this change are: Michelin Man, Bubba Jr (your Dad is Bubba to his sister) and Tank.
Anyway! I digress.
Your growing big and strong and healthy, and I'm so proud of you.
Today, at seven weeks and four days old, you weigh FOURTEEN POUNDS!

Your independence.
Already, you deal with so much on your own. When your tummy bothers you, your instant reaction is not to cry and call for me. In fact, it takes you a long time to ever get to the point of crying. You lay there on your own and grunt and wriggle a bit. It can hardly even be called fussing. Half the time I don't realize your tummy had been upset until after you've thrown up. Tough little kid. Mommy hates to throw up and cries every single time. Already, you're showing me up.
You can put yourself to sleep, too. No binky needed. No mommy to cuddle. Of course, we don't do this every time because that would break Mommy's heart. Mommy needs to cuddle. But you don't. Not every time, at least.
And that, my son, brings me to one of the other things that amazes me about you:

Your soul.

It's old and wise already. I can see it in your eyes. In the inquisitive way you work your eyebrows and tilt your head. In the way you handle life already. It almost surprises me when you do cry and remind me that you are, in fact, less than two months old.

You, my amazing son, are going to take this world by storm.