Dad, Booze, and Other Things Drake Says

My son's first word was "Mama". Naturally. Thankfully. He said it before he was even a year old.
That was followed shortly by "ball," pronounced more like "baw." Then came "Nana" and "Baba" and "hi" and "bye."
And then that was kind of it for quite awhile. He used those words consistently and frequently, but didn't latch on to any others until about two months ago. That's about the time he started using "hep me" any time he wanted something, and was successfully taught how to say "tant tu" when it was given to him. He also melted hearts when he waved and said "nigh nigh" on his way to bed.
So that's 11 words. Some of which he was saying in two word phrases. And he still hadn't learned to say "Dad." It's probably not hard to imagine that my husband's feelings were a bit hurt. I worked on it all the time. I pointed at Justin's pictures when he was away at work or school and said repeatedly, "Dad! Daaaadd. Daddy!" to which Drake would respond, "Mom!" Flattery aside, I felt kinda guilty about it.
So I think I was every bit as excited as Justin when Drake just decided to start using "Dad" all on his own over Labor Day Weekend. We were on our trip out to my brother's farm for his wedding, and I guess Drake just decided to show off for all our friends and family. He also started saying "apple," which now stands in for all varieties of fruit and vegetable.
Since then, it seriously has felt like he has added a new word almost every day. I honestly can't keep track of them all. I wish I had written this post two weeks ago. I'm going to do my best to think of them all and start keeping a record.
Drake's 21 Month Vocabulary:
Mom or Mama
Ball (still pronounced "baw")
Nana
Baba
Hi
Bye
Help me ("hep me")
Thank you ("tant tu")
Goodnight ("nigh nigh")
Dad
Boots (which he loves to wear - he brings them to me and says "booze! booze!")
Juice ("deuce," which stands in for all beverages)
Apple
Cheese ("teece")
No (this one is not Mom's favorite)
Ew (when he has a dirty diaper)
Yuck
Eye (he points to them in books and on the faces of his toys. He can also point to a nose, mouth, cheek, chin, forehead, ear, and eyebrow when prompted, but he has yet to say any of those himself.)
Teeth
Up
More (sounds more like "moi")
Boom (do sound effects count? He says this one when he throws things.)
Me and Mine
Home
Dog
Yummy ("Nuuuuumy!")
Baby

He understands:
Kiss (and if you're lucky, he'll give you one, "mmmaaaww!" sound effect and all)
Drake ("Isn't he clever, Mr. O'haire? He responds to his own name!" Quick! What movie? ;))
Book (he'll run and go get you one to read)
Hungry (he'll laugh and run to his high chair if he is)
Lovey (his snuggle buddy since the day he was born)
Outside
Come here
...and a lot of other phrases. I feel like his understanding is really quite amazing. I say full sentences to him and feel as though he gets the point. These are just the ones that I know for sure get the appropriate response.

I feel certain I'm forgetting some, but that is a pretty good start.

Someone help me

I need sleep. Badly.
I need my son to sleep. Desperately.

I've really hit a wall the last few days and it's feeling insurmountable at the moment. Mother{parent}hood is one part ecstasy, one part exhaustion. I know this. I get it. But I can't keep functioning like this. I haven't slept for more than two hours at a time (max 3 or 4 on a couple of very rare occasions) in well over a year now. A year! It has to stop.
Before you offer your generous words of wisdom, let me fill you in on the situation:
I chose to co-sleep with my son. He's been in my bed since the day he was born. Initially, I believe, this really saved me  in the exhaustion department. Every time he cried, he was right there to be nursed and lulled back to sleep. Drake and I became such side-nursing pros that I was often able to fall back asleep as soon as he was latched. But then he got bigger. And he started moving around more (read: kicking me in the face). And then his sleep schedule went wonky. Now, not only was he waking up to nurse every couple of hours but he was full on waking up. Wanting to move around and play and explore. That was a couple months ago. It took about two weeks of that for Justin and I to decide it was time to start putting him to sleep in his own bed. We had been introducing him to his bed for months already, as he napped there twice a day, so it wasn't very hard to get him to go to sleep there at night time, too. He cried at first, often for just a couple minutes but sometimes for as much as fifteen minutes - of which I hated every second - but then he got used to it. Now he goes down without a whimper. Binkie. Lovey. Blankie. Done.
But he does not stay asleep. My son still wakes up every hour and a half to two hours. Every night. Without fail. I had really hoped that once he was away from me - away from the smell of me - he wouldn't want to nurse as often. I did not get so lucky.
Do you remember when I told you that Drake has a thing called Anal Stenosis? It means his little bottom is too small. We had to cut out solid foods entirely for a while in order to keep his stools soft enough to pass. We've been able to reintroduce some now, but we have to be very careful about how much and what kinds. He still relies almost solely on breast milk. Which means he still gets hungry every couple of hours. I try to feed him his one solid food meal later in the evening so his tummy will be full at night, but it hasn't made a difference.
I really don't know what to do.
I woke up the other morning thinking, "Something has to change. Tonight I'm just going to let him cry it out every other time." Somehow, in that moment right after a hard night, that seemed like the obvious answer. During the day, he often naps for two to three hours. So he's not going to starve to death in three hours. So I will just force him to go that long between getting up to feed him/bring him back to bed with me. I've now tried that twice and CAN NOT do it. His cries are so devastated after a couple minutes of my ignoring him that it literally pains me not to go to him. And I feel for him! It's like he can understand when I lay him down in his bed that, ok, Mommy wants me to go to sleep. But then once he has been asleep, no matter what the length of time, now it's time for Mommy to come get me. I can hear the, "Why don't you come get me??!!" in his wails and it kills me.
So now what? Is this a case of, "Buck up, girl. That's what Mommy hood means."? Or is there something more I can do? Because, really and truly, I'm dying over here.
_______
*Please know that I am genuinely interested in any help or advice that anyone has to offer. What I am not interested in is any judgement or criticism of choices my family has already made. If that is what you are tempted to write when you read about my family's choice to co-sleep -or anything else - please, please refrain. I'm only going to delete it.

Celebrating Parenthood: Mother's Day/Father's Day Numero Uno

What's not to celebrate when this is your kid? I mean, really?

I could not have asked for a more perfect day for my first Mother's Day. Firstly, every day is a gift with this handsome little man. Secondly, I was lucky enough to celebrate with the whole fam damily, which is a freaking miracle these days. My brother and soon to be sister-in-law just happened to be in town (they live outside of Portland these days) for their good friends' wedding. My brother-in-law was also home - another rare bird - from the oil fields so we were all together for the first time since Christmas.
We all gathered at the Main Momma's house, had delicious food (smoked salmon with capers and cream cheese on a cheddar bagel anyone? mmmmm), drank some mimosas, soaked up the spring rays, and generally just enjoyed the hell out of each other's company. The kiddos played on the grass, Drake had his first taste of pineapple: all good.

Sadly, I couldn't make as big a to do for Father's Day seeing as my hard working hubby has all of about three waking hours with us on Sunday's (and Saturday's for that matter). However, I did wake him up with coffee ready and surprised him with some fun loot. I got him an antique coffee grinder that we can refinish/remount - an intended "first home project" for our new house (yes, we're buying a house! more on this later), a vintage poster of his home town, Franklin, TN as an attempt at a "thank you" for all the things I know he misses and has given up to make a home with us here. Then, of course, I got him some beer and a new pint glass. This is essential.
My Dad joined us for our short, but sweet, Father's Day. (I had actually been lucky enough to spend the earlier part of the day with him - No Sweat breakfast and a down town stroll - but asked him to come over rather than cut the day short). I made banana pancakes like the ones I had seen on skinnytaste.com (I'm obsessed! She's amazing!) but threw in some little airplanes to celebrate Justin's new undertaking to become a pilot. Hearts and airplanes: those go together, right? We had bacon, white trash mimosas - and even some home made coconut syrup that Dad whipped up! - and brunch was to die for.
Then  Justin was back to business - getting himself ready for work. But for a brief couple of hours, it was so nice to dote on him. I try to make sure he knows every day just how much I appreciate him - how much I see that he does for us all the time - but it was nice to have a day to say, "Hey, you rock at this fatherhood thing and I love the hell out of you for it."

I wanna talk about me

While I'm searching for the words to describe my perfect little boy, allow me, if you will, a moment for some self absorption.


I miss alcohol.
Yep. You heard me. I miss it.
Now, don't go overreacting, dear reader. I'm no alcoholic. I don't need to drink. It just tastes so darn good sometimes! And I miss feeling like a grown up. I miss sharing a bottle of wine (or two) with my girlfriends. I miss date nights with  my hubby that involve some wonderfully overpriced cocktails. I'm tired of, "Soda water with lime, please."
While I was pregnant, THE biggest craving I had - maybe the only craving, really - was beer. God, I wanted beer SO badly. It was such a hot summer, and I was so huge and tired. And hot! But I already said that. Nothing sounded better than cracking open a cold beer. And let me just say! If anyone in the world deserves a cold beer on a hot summer afternoon, it's a pregnant woman. Pregnancy is such hard work! Not to mention, we walk around at about ten degrees warmer than everyone around us. It's one of the great injustices of the world: getting saddled with the heaviest loads you'll ever carry, but unable to even consider 'taking a load off' at the end of a hot day.
Of course, I write this in jest. Sort of. The baby is, without question, worth a dry summer. But that didn't keep me from being jealous of my husband's cold brew.
Right after Drake was born, the craving made an instant shift from beer - which, I've been told, is even helpful to breast feeding women - to wine. I even had my Dad bring a growler of one of my favorite dark, malty, locally brewed porters to the birthing suite because I thought I wanted it so badly. I took one sip and pushed it away. Nope. Now I want wine.
So I'm excited to try something like this wine club idea. Thirty bucks a month is a totally manageable budgetary addition, and it will give me the occasional reason to feel like a big girl; an adult; a woman; a wife - and not just a mom. (Which is, of course, the best part - I just want the other parts, too. I want it all, dear readers.) Plus, I'll get to try a bunch of yummy new wines I probably couldn't find in tiny Helena, Montana.
Beyond that, I think I'll plan something fun for my birthday, which is coming up in March. I'll make sure I have plenty of breast milk stored up, find myself a baby sitter, and throw myself a party. A Put-On-Your-Cocktail-Dress, Pop-Open-the-Bubbly kinda party. Who's in??

A good night

I actually did things last night! Highly unusual for this pregnant lady. After getting off of work at 4, I did my makeup - shock! - and hair - bigger shock. I miraculously found an outfit that fit (with some creative styling: skinny jeans unbuttoned and held up by a belly band) that did not involve sweats or a t shirt or tennis shoes. For the first time in months, I felt cute.
And so I went out! Well, I suppose I did all of that because I was already planning on going out - but nevertheless, the surprising success of my efforts definitely created a renewed enthusiasm for the idea of spending the evening in public places. (Most nights these days are spent at home alone - occasionally at my sister's - but always in my pj's.)
First, I went Salsa dancing. Ok, so I didn't do a lot of dancing. It's pretty hard to keep your balance on a pair of heels with a giant, round weight attached to the front of you (not to mention I think it makes the men feel a little awkward to have a big belly invading their dancing space). But I hung out with some of my best girlfriends while they taught a Salsa lesson and lead some open dancing.
They are on the eve of a new commitment to healthy eating - which of course meant that last night absolutely called for some wonderful junk food - so we went out to eat and laugh and talk until 10:30.
When we had finished our eating and our gabbing and the rest of the group was headed home, I, of all people, headed down town instead of heading home. My final destination of the night was a little Irish pub where another of my wonderful girlfriends was supporting her man. Her boyfriend was playing a gig there with his very cool folk/bluegrass band and, as fun as it feels to be the girlfriend of the hot guy in the band - the one with the guitar singing lead vocals - it's never fun to sit alone. I was happy to join her, keep her company, enjoy the hell out of her company, and hear some good music. I only stayed for about an hour but I had a great time.
A pregnant lady on the town. Drinking lots and lots of water. And it was so good.

 

Pregnancy update: I'm 34 weeks today! We don't need to talk about weight - don't worry, I've gained plenty! :P At last check, my belly was nearly 43" around. Whoa! 

Just six more weeks to full term! Just TWO weeks until I can safely deliver with my wonderful midwife outside of the hospital. It's crazy to think how soon he could be here! I'm ready though. Carrying this weight around is definitely getting uncomfortable. Poor back and feet. They are ready for some relief. 

Working really hard at remaining patient...