Friday, December 31, 2010

10... 9... 8...

The pressure to write a new years blog post is like the pressure of New Year's Eve. You have to do something super cool and off the hook. Or else. Don't like it one bit.


A billion things have happened this year. You've read about most of them. We have laughed and cried. Mostly laughed. The tears were joyful ones. We celebrated. Welcomed our second miracle. And had a blast. Life is wonderful. Could not ask for more. Can't wait to see what 2011 throws our way.


I don't really do resolutions. Never keep them. Think it's silly to set a big goal you can't keep.


There are things I would like to do in 2011.


I would like to do another half marathon and even consider running part of it (don't get ahead of yourselves you runners... I said part of it).


I would like to take a long weekend with just my husband. We could stay at the Holiday Inn down the road, don't care.


I would like to sleep 8 hours straight without having to get up and nurse, pump, change a diaper or put a 2 year old back to sleep.


I want to write more.


I want to figure out how to make a living blogging.


I want to become a better photographer.


I want to remember why I loved our dog and forget why he drives me nuts now. If he would stop puking in the middle of the night that would help.


I want to ring in my second annual 29th birthday surrounded by people I love.


Mostly I want to keep laughing, keep celebrating, keep loving hard, and keep on keeping on.


Hope your plans are stellar. Hope the champagne is cold. Hope 2011 is magical.


The Best part? Bring it 2011. The Best part is ready.

Happy New Year Friends.

Oh and in honor of a new year, I bought my own domain. My own little piece of the internet. Stay tuned. http://www.thebestspart.com/ how fancy is that?!?!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Observations and Revelations: Christmas Edition

Forgive typos. I am writing through blurry eyes with greasy hair. I. Am. Exhausted.

I want Christmas put away as badly as I wanted it put up in November.

Before Christmas we had 100 Matchbox cars. Now we have 200. They are land mines. Consider yourself warned.

I don't know what people without televisions in the car do on road trips. Serious. My dad used to hook up his video camera (the off the shoulder kind) to a tv in the back of the station wagon and we would lay in the back and watch tv. My parents would go to jail for that today.

BGB does not like to poop while away from home. Up. The. Front. As soon as we got home.

You can in fact eat too much cheese ball.

I wanted nothing more than green beans for dinner tonight.

Expressing gratitude is an art form everyone should learn.

My two year old does not love snow. Perhaps if we had avoided the ramp on our first run he would feel differently.

If you pick an empty corner of the McDonald's in Wooster, Ohio to eat lunch and nurse the baby, within minutes that corner will be filled with people. Gawkers. You can look but you can't touch.

I will be vacuuming up Fraser fir and wrapping paper for months.

Watching your kids play with their cousins is awesome even if the 2 year olds yell 'mine' and 'no' back at each other for 3 days. Please note: Cannon could claim no toys as 'mine' yet did so anyway.

A certain 2 month old made it 8 hours last night. Perhaps I should thank the red blend.

The game 'headbandz' although intended for ages 7 & up is serious fun with adults and drinks.

My baby boy just kissed his baby sister and said 'night night Emerson, I love you'. He did not however understand why it made me cry.

We ate. We drank (a lot). We are merry. Still. We are luckier than we deserve. I will spend the remainder of the week putting things away. Putting life back together. And looking forward to New Years Eve dinner out with my husband.

Hope yours were merry and bright!

The Best part? Sleeping in my own bed tonight.

xoxo







Saturday, December 25, 2010

Couldn't stay away...

Just a few highlights.

I figured out the cameras. Used a tripod for the posterity video. Just watched it. Managed to park my fat ass right in front of it for 'the moment'. So you can hear his excitement and see my worn out Christmas morning cashmere. Fail.

On Christmas eve the effing dog ate a dozen jumbo crayons while no one was watching (cause we were watching a three year old, two year old, one year old and two month old while also sucking down wine, vodka and sushi). To be clear the dog is not a puppy. He is 4. Halfway through unwrapping we saw the crayons again. Nothing says merry Christmas like dog vomit.

Quiche. Magnificent. Cinnamon pull apart. To die for. We are opening a bottle of red. It's after noon. 12:08 to be exact. Don't judge. Don't really care if you do. We're doing it anyway.

Hope your day is merry and bright!

The Best part? We made it to 11 without any requests to watch Mickey.


Friday, December 24, 2010

He's coming!!!

It's Christmas eve. Our tree is more like kindling. That's what happens when you buy one on Black Friday. It's so bad that Dan is rationing the time the lights can be on for fear it'll catch fire. Fun taker. Don't get too close though. It'll getcha.

Today is officially the last day I can say 'guess I should call Santa' or 'Santa's watching' or 'he's making a list, which one are you on?'. Damn. Back to real discipline I suppose.

There's a taffeta dress (not me. I am not 12) planned for tonight. And an argyle christmas vest. And sushi. And good friends.

Dan is getting more than just undershirts but not much more given the price limit. I am trying to figure out how to shoot video on both the flip and the regular video camera (the one that shoots video for posterity not for Facebook) and also take real pictures. Right now mounting a camera on the Bjorn sounds like a good option. Stay tuned.

I am more excited for tomorrow morning than I ever was as a kid (sorry mom and dad) and my parents did Christmas right.

Drove around and looked at Christmas lights last night. Of all the times I didn't have one of my 700 cameras. A light up plastic nativity scene next to a Home Depot blow up NASCAR with a Peanuts character hanging out the side. I shit you not. Nothing says Happy Birthday Jesus like plastic and NASCAR. Best we found this year.

All is calm-ish. All is bright.

Think I will make myself scarce for the remainder of the year. Unless the mood hits me just right. You will be ok. I promise.

Until then, merry merry and happy happy. Hope your holidays are smothered in love, laughter, and good wine.

The Best part? The look on his face tomorrow.

xoxo




Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Just so we are clear...

Dan jokes that I am kind of hard on Cannon on the blog. Here's the thing. He is the sweetest, kindest, funniest, smartest, most adorable, wonderful little boy. But that stuff isn't funny. And no one wants to read another blog written by a mom talking about her perfect her kids are (and we celebrate imperfection, not perfection).


So, don't mistake my stories about his listening skills or drinking from the toilet for me thinking he's not the most wonderful thing ever. He is.


Just so we are clear, he is cuter, smarter, and more fun than your kid and he can beat up your kid to boot. So there.


The Best part? He told a woman at Target yesterday that Santa was playing golf.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Now hear this...

So it's that time of year.  Report card time.  Yep.  At 2 we get report cards.  I am certain it's rolled into tuition somewhere.  Anyway.

We got Cannon's report card today and among the A's, S's, W's, and N's (Always, Sometimes, Working on it, and Never) is a written evaluation.  It starts something like this.  Actually it starts exactly like this: Cannon is one of the best listeners in class.  Really?  Really.

Don't get me wrong.  I am beaming with pride that when we're not around he's polite, listens, and is a kind and good person.  Love him.  However. 

He does not listen to me.  Or at least I wouldn't classify him as a 'good listener'.  I mean if you're going to listen to someone it should be the woman who birthed you (sans an epidural I might add if I haven't mention that before) right?  I would say 50% of them time he listens.  To me.  100% of the time he hears me. 

I guess it's good that his teachers think he's the perfect kid.  Our image as the perfect parents is preserved.  Whew.  Relief.

In other news.

If I catch the dog wiping his ass on the carpet one more time I am giving him away for the holidays.  I know there's snow on the ground but I am pretty sure animals in the wild don't have the choice of snow or berber.  Neither do you.  While we're at it.  Stay off my new bedding.  For real.

I am this close to being finished with my Christmas shopping.  I went to the mall today.  I bought nothing.  I got asked four times if I wanted hand cream by someone with an accent.  I thought about giving a piece of my mind to the four women in their pj's who parked in the 'family first' parking spot sans a family or stroller.  But I didn't.  It's Christmas and I'm sad for them that they can't read.

BGB got four immunizations today.  She wants to snuggle.  Twist my arm.  How is she two months old?  Serious.

This is the second time I've written this post.  It's always better the first time.

The Best part?  Besties coming to visit tomorrow.  Until then. XOXO

And. For the record.  The only 'N's' he got were in identifying plant types.  Um.  Hello? He knows what a Christmas tree is... what more do you want?

Monday, December 20, 2010

... just cuz....

I haven't in a while.













Determined to get a picture of both of them, together, dressed up at Chrsitmas.  Standby.

They are clearly the Best part. 

Sunday, December 19, 2010

... 'twas the week before Christmas...

And at the Best house...

Christmas cards are hung on the fridge with care. If you didn't send a picture, don't look its not there.

Santas elves have been hard at work. Cannon won't know where to start (truth: I get tears in my eyes thinking about him coming down on Christmas morning. I really think most of the fun of Santa is for parents. Love it.). Despite a self imposed price limit I am pretty sure Dan wants more than undershirts in his stocking. I should get on that.

And if you think Santa isn't bringing Emerson a dozen headbands and coordinating flowers you would be wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.

Christmas candy is made. Workouts are not happening.

A baby is sleeping 7 hours at night. I celebrated with a 6am trip to walmart (the saturday before christmas, which i think was brilliant, it was heaven. Yep, just described walmart as heaven) and 4 glasses of wine on date night.

I am counting the days. Ignoring the bills. And loving every minute.

The house is warm and cozy. The pours are healthy.

Christmas is so close. Love.

The Best part? 6 days. Oh and sushi for Christmas eve dinner.



Wednesday, December 15, 2010

make no mistake

I have never loved winter. 

I still don't.

He is cute.  Adorable.  A beautiful little boy.

He is smart.  Can count to 20 in two languages (no not Mandarin Chinese).  Knows his alphabet.  Says an occasional profound thought.

He does precious things like put both of his hands on my face and say 'I have a question Mommy!' and then when I ask him what the question is, he just looks stumped. 

He is falling in love with his baby sister.  It's adorable.

He is fun.  He is funny.  He keeps us constantly on our toes. 

He loves us and we love him so much it hurts.

I am proud to be his Mom.

But make no mistake.

He is 2.

The word 'no' makes him throw himself on the ground in a fit of tears.

We played playdoh today for 12 blissful minutes.  Then he took a bite.  I gently reminded him what happens when we eat the playdoh; timeout and we put it away.  He said 'I know Mommy' and in the same breath, took a giant bite and smiled.

He napped for less than 60 minutes.

He asked for 384 cookies before lunchtime.  He got zero (victory).

He tells me, through grunts that he's pooping.  Then runs away.

He yells things like "Mommy!  Come back here now!".  Precious.

I built him a fort of pillows in the living room.  He wanted to jump on the cushionless furniture.

I am pretty sure I asked 569 times what he wanted for dinner.  This is not a hard question, the child eats four things.

After getting out his pj's I walked into the bathroom to put him in the tub and he has his wet hand in his mouth, clearly soaked with toilet water. 

He peed when he got in the tub (not abnormal around here).  Then he got a cup and started drinking bath water just minutes later.  Exclaiming 'delicious' after swallowing.

His fingernails were so long I could have given him a french manicure.  When I told him I wanted to cut them he must have heard 'I want to cut your fingers off' instead of fingernails.  Amazingly, I was right.  It did not hurt.

I miss going to the park.  It's like 5 here and no one in their right mind would take a toddler and infant out without anywhere to go.  I suppose we could go to the germ infested, pee smelling mall playground and hangout with all the other snotty nosed kids in a 30 mile radius.  But we won't.  We will continue to grocery shop in the kitchen, cook with uncooked noodles, build forts and jump on the cushionless couch, play eat playdoh, not eat vegetables, and laugh.  A lot.  It's all good.

Celebrate imperfection.

And now, I drink,  I mean relax.

The Best part?  Santa is bringing new toys, thank goodness.



Tuesday, December 14, 2010

breaking news...

This just in.  Despite my best efforts.  The bird died. 

I will rest easy knowing it did not spend it's final moments in the mouth of a golden retriever who would have no idea what to do with it once he got it in his mouth.

That is all.

Wanderings

DVR, Keurig... and now add iPad to the list of things I never thought I needed but fear I will now not be able to live without.  Early Christmas present from my parents, it's nothing short of awesome.

I am better, thanks for asking.  So glad I called the doc when I did and got meds early this time.  No need to send anymore flowers or cards, I'm on the mend.

Thud.  The unmistakeable sound of a bird flying into the sliding glass door.  It's really not that clean, I think our birds have bad vision.  And there it is, lying in the snow, stunned, possibly dying.  I leave it there.  15 minutes later the fearless dog shows up and decides to start acting like a dog instead of the person he usually thinks he is.  Tucker is laying at the door staring through the glass, not moving, but emitting some awful smell.  Must be some sort of instinct thing but it's gross.  So.  Dan's on a conference call and is no help at all.  He tells me to put my Uggs on and get a shovel.  So I do.  I shoveled up the bird and put him in the sun.  I'll update his condition as I get more information.

I have made three pages of lists today.  Gifts.  Groceries.  Errands.  To do's.  I feel no more organized or accomplished than I did before I made the lists. 

Dove soap, original recipe really does help baby acne.

That's all I've got.

The Best part?  The iPad.  Clearly.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

out of no where... again.

So, I'm minding my biz, making a pot of corn chowder (have a fab recipe si quieres) cause we are 'hunkering down'.  If you know wherebouts we live you know that we are expecting white death.  4 inches.  That's right. 

So I'm making chowder and my right boob starts to hurt.  Ache.  At first I thought it was Jillians fault (did her Shred workout yestserday).  It got worse.  Then I started to shake.  Chills.  Blocked duct.  Maybe it's only a blocked duct.  Then my temp plumets to 95 and right back up to 102.  Awesome.  So now I'm achy and freezing and my boob is on fire.  Again.  It took 30 minutes for all of this to happen.  Really.

Shit.

I have mastitis.  Again.  How is this possible?  Seriously.  What am I doing to cause/ deserve this?  Fortunately, should I need them, I have some perc's left.  Also called the doc and got a z-pack called in stat.  And the shower massage has already happened and probably will have to again tonight, despite the pain.

Here's hoping I am better and not worse by morning.

The Best part?  At least I know the misery to expect this time.

Friday, December 10, 2010

in case you were wondering...

It's 930am and we're all dressed.  AND we are not leaving the house, at least not this morning.  So.  There.

BGB even has on tights.  However, that created the question of the morning... does it go:

diaper, onesie, tights, fancy pants
OR
diaper, tights, onesie, fancy pants


For serious y'all.  This confused me this morning.

On another note, I will focus all day long today on tightening my abs, while I sit, while I walk, while I do everything.  Anyone else notice when you hold a baby you let your stomach hang out like Santa Claus?  Just me?  Ok, fine.

Update: Huggies size 2 diapers 'hold it all in' swimmingly.

The Best part?  Polka dot fancy pants.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

...not goin' anywhere...

Yesterday morning, mid morning, I went upstairs and got dressed.  Put on pants that buttoned, earrings, a top and some socks.  I grabbed a shirt and pants for Cannon and brought them down to where he was parked in front of the television -- shocking, I know.

I sat down in front of him and started to take off his pj's and put on 'real clothes' to which he promptly asked 'where we goin' Mommy?'.  'Not goin' anywhere buddy, just thought we'd wear clothes today.'

So my two year old associates getting dressed with leaving the house.  Interesting.  This is a sure fire sign of too many pj days (as I sit here in my pj's at 1 in the afternoon, he's dressed cause he's at school today).  On top of that, I have SO many outfits E is going out grow if I don't start putting her roly poly self in them, so I've made a decision.

We will get dressed more.  That's right.  We'll wear regular clothes more often.  I figure if my friend Sarah, who has five children, three of whom are triplets, can get her kids dressed to the 9's every single freaking day, along with herself, I can get my crew of two dressed at least to the 5's.  Maybe higher if I try. 

I'll start tomorrow.  We'll start small.  Dressed by 10 (we have a playdate, we'll have to be dressed by then), all three of us. 

Please don't mistake this for me giving up pj days.  There are days where we all wake up and it's 2 outside and 8 hours later we're still in our pj's and I'm totally fine with that.  In fact, I love those days.  Perhaps they just need to come less often to be more appreciated.

Unrelated revelation: Pretty sure your big brother calling you 'chunk a munk' will only be ok for your self esteem for a short while.  Mom and Dad will need a new nickname before you turn 13.

AND... E is 7 weeks old today.  I'm certain, I just know, that any day now she's going to surprise me and not get up at 3am.  I just know it.  Fingers crossed.

And one more.  How festive is my new header? Did it all by myself. 

The Best part?  She's basically a doll for me to play dress up with.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Redistributed.

So.  I can happily report that my scale at home (this is important because every scale I've ever been on in a doctors office is high.) is reading the same number it did before I got pregnant with BGB.  6.5 weeks.  Please compare that two 52+ weeks with Cannon.  I deserve a medal. 

However.

I have done nothing.  I am not dieting, nor have I exercised other than chasing Cannon around the house.  I am one of those women who I usually hate.  It feels good.

However.

What does not feel good is what is an apparent redistribution of 'assets' if you will.  So the number is the same, however, it appears that my calves or ankles or neck or elbows or maybe even thighs got skinnier cause my midsection is preventing my jeans from buttoning without a muffin top (and some of them without cutting of circulation to my lower half). 

So, let's talk about the mush that is my midsection.  Or let's not talk about it.  Let's just figure out a way to get rid of it.  I'll be doing Jillian on DVR today or maybe tomorrow.  Can't stand being 'soft'. 

Oh, and a side note.  Weight, please keep falling off, cause when I got pregnant I was probably carrying around 10 pounds I shouldn't have been.  Thanks.

The Best part?  This post wasn't written around BGB's first birthday, like the one I wrote about finally losing it all after Cannon was born. (can't find it right now).

Monday, December 6, 2010

it stains...

It's been a while since I've talked about poop.  I won't cross the line and talk about toddler man poops.  I'll just say whenever he's ready to move those into the toilet I'm all for it.

Baby poop.  Cannon was never exclusively on breastmilk.  Little Miss Thang isn't that into formula so we don't have a choice. 

I jinxed it.  At 6 tonight I said 'Emme (which on a side note, we are pronouncing 'Emmie' or 'Emmy' in case you were curious) has been in the same outfit all day long'.  That's major.  Sunday she was in four outfits before noon.  Within minutes I was upstairs with an up the back poop. 

It's worse if things 'move' while she's in the bouncy or the carseat.  What's funnier is as soon as she poops she falls asleep.  Instantly.

Anyway.  Huggies size 1's have failed us.  However.  I have boxes of them.  So, I've gotta use 'em.  We'll be trying Luvs next.  They've worked really well with C and do hold in those man poops. 

The Best part?  All my kids clothes are now clean all the time thanks to constant washing.

it coulda been...

It could've been.  Filled with tears.  Screaming.  Snotty nosed crying.  Bribery.  Begging.  Pleading.  A terrified toddler.  A sweaty Mom.  A total failure.  A really fabulous blog post.  It was not.

We were first in line.  Saw Santa arrive.  Cannon was all business.  Didn't mess around.  Got right to it.  That's right.  We took the ad.



And you can't ask for a better shot than this one.



So for you readers, it's a disappointment.  But for me, it was perfection.  And now I have another cup of coffee and put my feet up.  And he has a giant sucker for being such a good boy.

The Best part?  The bow.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

BMW

We didn't drive the minivan.  Still felt old.

So last night was a surprise birthday party for a friend from college.  A surprise 30th birthday party.  We graduated the same year.  30 is approaching.  Quickly.  He was surprised.  Saw some friends from the past.  Spent a lot of time talking about how we don't feel far removed from college but when we stand next to an 18 year old we realize just how far removed we are.  Anyway.

So, it's at a bar.  A bar in the hip area of town where we used to go BC (Before Children, Before Cannon; whichever you prefer).  Have probably been twice since he was born.  Make that 3 times.  Our bar tab was huge.  We're not sure why or how.  We stayed out late.  Too late.  And by late I mean midnight.  Yep.  Midnight. 

So, we went to bed at 1.  Emerson got up at 4.  Again at 6.  And Cannon was up at 7.  BC today would have been a day to blow up an air mattress and watch Friends dvd's all day.  Instead it's the lazy Sunday with children edition where we watch too much television and all nap at 1.  Or I hope we all nap at 1.  Normal Sunday stuff will not get accomplished.  And we will remember why we don't and can't go out every weekend.  Perhaps once a quarter is a good goal.  And by 'out' I mean to a quiet dinner and home by 9.

Life is good great just the way it is.  With our cozy family where we sip wine and turn in early.  Now I really sound old.  Prepare yourself for 2 1/2 months of posts about turning 30.

Until then I'll leave you with this.  My parents are going to Mexico to celebrate my 30th birthday. 

And this.  Kohl's should send more $10 gift cards in the mail so I can continue to get kcups for free.

And this.  My new boots did not give me blisters.

And.  Songs from children's tv shows haunt and torture me at 3am.

And one more.  There's 3 inches of snow on the ground and my 2 year old has zero interest in playing in it.  I'm ok with that.

The Best part?  Slow cooking chichen chili.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

I'm doing it. Today.

I am so bad at 'sleeping when the baby sleeps'.  In fact, I suck at it.  I have yet to do it and it's been 6 weeks (what?!? she's 6 weeks old today!?!). 

See, there are matchbox cars to pick up.  Dishes to load or unload.  Laundry to fold (notice I didn't say 'put away').  Tables to dust.  Exercising to ponder.  Decorating to do.  Errands to run.  Facebook to catch up on (yeah right, like I ever get behind on fb).  Blogs to read.  Friends to email.  Phone calls to return.  Cows to milk.  Eyebrows to pluck.  Bills to pay.  Christmas lists to make.  I could go on.

Today.  I will do it.  I will sleep when the baby sleeps.  Cannon is at school (for the record, I truly believe I am a better mom and he is a happier toddler because he goes to school and interacts with other kids and adults two days a week, it's well worth the cost). 

So, today I will do it.  I'm doing it.  I'm going.  Don't even try and stop me.  I will not brew another cup.  I will feed her and go to bed.  Here I go. 

The Best part?  Today's small task?  Eyebrows.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

it's about time

We slept in.  We dined leisurely.  Tasted food.  Took vacations.  Long ones.  Slept 10 hours a night.  Went to bars just cause.  We did projects.  Painted rooms.  Redecorated.  Spent money.  Hours were spent on small tasks like washing the cars or organizing the garage.  Pretty sure I remember more than one sunday where we blew up an air mattress in the living room and watched Friends DVD's all. day. long.  We thought we were busy.  Really busy.  Afterall, we both worked fulltime.  AND had a dog.

After Cannon was born we'd laugh about what we did with all of our time before he arrived.   We were inefficient at best.  We'd say.  Or.  We must have wasted more time doing nothing...

Well, enter Emerson.  What on earth did we do with all our time when we only had one baby?  Seriously y'all.  We didn't know busy. 

Now I use the tv as a babysitter.  Now I make promises I can't keep to a two year old.  Now I do laundry but it never makes it out of the laundry room (also a curse/ blessing of having a second floor laundry).  Now I set short term goals and work to accomplish small tasks.  Now I go to the grocery store twice cause I didn't have room in the cart or in my brain to buy stuff for Christmas AND groceries (yes, I shop at a superstore, duh).   I'm learning man on man defense (or some sports analogy like that).  Now I postpone potty training (although on Sunday he did go on the big boy potty!) cause I just can't devote the time right now.  Now we are busy.  I think.

So, my readers with three children (or five), you can wipe away the tears from laughter.  And my friends with only one child, you're not busy.  Safe to say the transition from one to two is rougher than the transition from no babies to one baby, at least for us.  But we're 6 weeks in and making it.  And we're happy and we're having fun.  

So, I celebrate imperfection.  I celebrate 'making it'.  I celebrate getting a shower every day.  I celebrate making sure everyone is fed and clothed.  I celebrate the small things and laugh at what falls by the wayside.  It couldn't have been that important anyway, right?

I will continue to use the tv as a babysitter when I need it.  I will strive to accomplish everything and settle for it when I accomplish nothing.  And I will make new years resolutions that have nothing to do with being a better wife or mom cause I don't think it gets much better. 

On another note: If shoes with curved bottoms could make you skinny, wouldn't everyone be skinny by now?  Pretty sure you've wasted your money on your Sketchers.  Also, it's plastic light up nativity scene time.  Get ready.  Oh and remember this post?  It's back.  Only this year it has an arrow through it.  Nothing says 'happy birthday Jesus' like a deer hanging from a basketball hoop.

The Best part?  Remembering to celebrate imperfection.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Not the flu

This post has taken me a while because it's hard to make pain and misery funny.  Or even entertaining.  I tried.

Just when it was going smoothly.  E was gaining weight, nursing was getting, dare I say it, easy. 

Nothing is ever easy.

Woke up about two weeks ago and thought I was on fire.  At least thought one boob was on fire.  So bad in fact that I went downstairs and in five minutes pumped five ounces.  Relief.  I thought.  It was just engorgement.  Spin again Vanna.

Went back upstairs, stopped in the bathroom for some water and almost passed out (an ideal location to pass out).  Started shaking.  Chills. Like uncontrollable chills.  Teeth chattering, shaking.  Fever.  Clearly a fever.  103 out of NO WHERE.  I survive the night and internet diagnose myself with mastitis.  Doc calls in a prescription in the morning, everyone says I'll be better in 24 hours.  Everyone being the friends who've been there.  Wrong.  My body doesn't react to the 'industry standard' antibiotics.  Two new antibiotics, an ultrasound and some serious help later and I was finally fever free and almost pain free.  It took a good five days.  Maybe six.  Six days of aching from head to toe, fighting fevers, and postponing feedings for fear that I might pass out if I have to latch her on there again.

I did a lot of reading and a lot of talking to people.  I searched for cures, homeopathic, chants, or otherwise.  Unless you've had it, you don't know. 

This might be TMI but I'll tell you because I know I'm not alone in this and I know that this can help.  It took Dan in the shower with me.  Working out the 'kinks'.  Tears.  Lots of tears.  So thankful for his help because I would venture to say not every husband would step up like that.  I know not every husband would ask his colleagues about it and get some great advice.

Here's the thing about mastitis.  Once you open your mouth about it, EVERYONE'S had it or knows someone who has.  The women who I told all instantly grabbed their chests with flashbacks.  Every man Dan talked to said 'oh yeah, been there, done that'.  And thank goodness they had. 

So, the good news is that I am no longer on fire.  My mastitis is gone.  Nursing is almost back to normal.  And E weighs more than 10 pounds now!  Whew. 

The Best part?  I beat it.  I didn't give in.  I didn't quit. 

Saturday, November 27, 2010

TGivs Observations and Revelations -- with pictures!

Eating on your great grandmother's china makes things more special.


My Mom on my 25 year old brother: "He's reading a book, I'm so proud." My brother is reading a book called Assholes Finish First.



My Brother on 'Dadly' duties: "Dad, you do the inside of the turkey it's like pumpkins."



Wine tastes better in crystal.  So it has to be handwashed.  We should still drink out of it more often.


Totally disappointed in the meat output of a 17 pound bird.  However, my brother may have eaten 3 or 4 pounds himself.




Jellied cranberry sauce out of  can is better than homemade.  Despite my best efforts.

There is sheer joy when the homemade pumpkin cheesecake with ginger snap crust comes out of the pan.



Family pictures, if too forced, with coordinated outfits, posing, and two children look just that way, forced.  Of course, I discovered THIS picture after I ordered the Christmas cards.  Damn.



My parents brought us a Keurig.  Never thought I wanted/ needed one.  Coffee pot for sale.

Hung with care.


Christmas cards in the mail by Monday.  That's late for me.  Really late.

Christmas cheer.


The Best part?  There was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on our Thanksgiving table.

Friday, November 26, 2010

A Toast

We toasted.  Feel free to steal it.  My Mom stole it.  From the New York Times.  Where it was an ad.  For Grey Goose.  Vodka.

To nearest
To dearest
To the crew
To cahoots
To the ones who've been there
To the ones who'll be there
To dropping everything
To saying anything
To no judgements
To no doubts
To loyalty
To trust
To favors
To lifelongs
To been too long
To nothing's changed
To having history
To having your back
To moving away
To never too far
To growing up
To settling down
To your second family... to celebrating with those who matter most.

The Best part?  Stealing a toast from a vodka ad.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

don't blink, you'll miss it!

That's how quick this will be.

I am finally healing.  Thanks to the husband and new meds.  Will tell full story later cuz I know your DYING to hear.

Cleaned (fine, cleaning lady came, same thing) and started cooking and we're ready!

Bring on Tgiv!  So much to be thankful for!

Oh, and the stockings are hung.  With joy.  Duh.

The Best part?  Feast!  Soon!

xoxo

Little Turkeys

So thankful for these two who are clearly no longer twins.
Happy Cooking!





The Best part?  I'm getting better.  Finally.

Monday, November 22, 2010

quickie but goodie

Updates:

Netbook is back.  Hooray!  They left it even though I just left a note for the Fedex guy asking him to leave it.  Hooray!

No abcesses.  That means no surgery.  New antibiotics (two of them) and pain meds and praying it goes away like an hour ago.

Real things people said to me today:

"Her looks like her's gonna go to sleep soon" on an elevator... guess how many teeth she had...

"Have you breastfed in the last six months?" nurse, at the doctors office looking at me and baby E and also fully equipped with the knowledge she was scheduling an ultrasound because of mastitis.  Is there another cause I'm unaware of?

"Look at all that hair! I remember when my grandbaby was born and the nurse was playing with her hair before she was delivered."  woman in line with me at the pharmacy. sick.

"She's beautiful, just like her momma, hope she don't look like her daddy!" Volunteer at the hospital.  A) I was Stacy and Clinton material today so he clearly didn't mean it and B) what does that mean?

Keep your fingers crossed for us.

The Best part?  No abcesses.  Whew.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Where you been sista?

So I know everyone is pining for some Best part love.  Here it comes, in brief.

The laptop comes back tomorrow.  Now if I can figure out how to be home when they deliver it cause I have to sign for it (hate that). 

Mastitis lingers.  In fact, it has gotten worse.  I've been fighting a 103 degree fever since Thursday which makes me a terrific wife and mother.  You know when everything hurts?  Like from the tips of your fingers to your toes and everywhere in between.  It hurts to blink.  That's me.  Basically incapable of doing anything AND my only real responsibility (feeding baby E) hurts like a mother.  So today the doc gave me the option of coming to the hospital and spending the night on IV antibiotics OR taking percocet (along with the antibiotics I've been taking) and come into the office first thing tomorrow.  It's not that I didn't want to spend all day Sunday and into Monday in the hospital... ok, it is.  Thank God for percocet.

Today will be a day of homeopathic cures (along with drugs).  Nursing on my hands and knees.  Kneading (which brings tears to my eyes to just say it).  Heat.  Ice.  More nursing.  Perhaps some chanting and incense burning too.  I would not wish this on anyone.

One website poster suggested, brace yourselves, that you have your husband 'nurse' on you to suck out the clog.  Um.  No.  Would rather have a doctor have to cut it open and clear it out.  Serious.

It's tgivs week.  Woefully unprepared isn't the right terminology.  Behind.  I am behind.  So tonight I will sit on my behind and clean the crystal glasses we've used once since we got married.  Perhaps I'll also iron the table cloth.  Depends on how medicated I am.

On a different note, we got our list for our adopt a family and I'm totally excited to shop for this single mom and her son.  She specifically requested 'no guns' for her little boy which I love.  They asked for the most reasonable things.  I'm so looking forward to being able to make their holiday a little more special.

The Best part?  The pills.  Definitely the pills.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Mastitis Sucks

Thought you should know.

That is all.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Happy National Thaw Day

I have my most profound thoughts in the middle of the night.  Then when the sun rises I can't even remember what time I was up let alone what my thoughts were.  I know of late I've been less than riveting but my groove will be back soon.  Why?  Cause my computer will be back soon!  Until then, a few thoughts.

I remembered to put the turkey in the fridge today.  Victory.

Emerson used to look just like me and Cannon and now she looks A LOT like Dan.  Pics soon I promise (ref. above computer issues).

I would have made a great queen but I suppose Kate Middleton will have to do.  She is lovely.  I'll be anxiously awaiting my invitation.

BGB's stocking is now embroidered.  Nothing is stopping me from decorating.  Look.  Out.

Let my obsession with hair bows begin.  Today, I shop.

Waited too long last year to get Christmas pj's... will not make the same mistake this year.  Today, I shop.

As we prepare to give thanks for all that we have and celebrate with too much food, wine, and cheer, we've decided to adopt a family for Christmas.  We think it will be a wonderful tradition for our children (and us) to grow up learning to help others and appreciating all that we have.  The Salvation Army supported my Grandmother and her family when they arrived on US soil from Poland so this holiday season, we'll join them in helping those less fortunate.  As I say often, we are luckier than we deserve.

We're buying each other a new furnace for Christmas.  Don't be jealous.

The Best part?  New traditions.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

so thankful...

... for pink bubblegum flavored medicine.

That is all.

Switcheroo

In an effort to earn back our POTY (Parents of the Year) awards we'll be switching from Augmentin, hopefully to something that looks and tastes like a sucker.  Ok, fine, at least tastes like one.

When you Google "Trying to get your two year old to take augmentin" the advice overwhelmingly says to ask the doctor for something else.  It's the devil and I'm not the only one who thinks so. 

So, lesson learned.  Now, onto ask for something clear and pink to kill whatever bug has gotten my little boy.

The Best part?  He still loves us.  Oh, and no fever since before bed last night.

Monday, November 15, 2010

FlavoRx Fail

A cough.  He's had a cough for the better part of a month.  It came with a nasty cold right about the time Emerson was born.  The green gunk went away.  The cough has lingered.  Then came a fever on Saturday.  A fever that kept coming back.  I was up with two children last night.  So, today, I call the doctor. 

See, we know his tubes are out.  So, my fear of 'earning back the tubes' crept in and I was worried about an ear infection.  To the doctor we go.  We all know how those visits usually go (precisely why I was SO thankful to have Dan with me).  This one was fairly smooth and if she could have diagnosed him without checking his ears or mouth they would have been BFF.  The second she put that thing in his ear he fell out of love with the doctor and started screaming.  He is surprisingly strong I might add.

Fortunately, his ears are fine.  His tonsils are however, swollen and have white dots on them.  Oh and he has a sinus infection. 

So she says, 'how's he with medicine?'. 

'Good!  Really good!' we exclaim enthusiastically (an exclamation that will soon bite us in the ass).  So enthusiastically in fact she thought we were kidding.  We weren't.  The kid asks for medicine.  The pink kind.  So much so that sometimes we give him water and tell him it's medicine.  Creating an addict?  Perhaps. 

Anyway.  Augmentin.  She wants to put him on Augmentin.  Ok, fine. Sounds good.  Will it keep us from having to get a chest xray and make him better?  It will?  Ok, sounds good!

Augmentin is basically like liquidy cottage cheese.  So she says 'get the FlavoRx shot of flavor in it, it'll make it go down smoother.'  Liar.

It gets ugly here.  We bribe with M&M's.  Fail.  We bribe with ice cream.  Also fail.  I would judge people who did what we attempted, until tonight.  So, we attempted to hold down our freakishly strong two year old and force the medicine (which we had mixed with the pink stuff in hopes of disguising it) down.  Fail.  Medicine on his shirt, his face, Dan's shirt, Dan's face.  Everywhere but in his mouth, down his throat, and healing his body.  Eff.  Now we feel like terrible people and he didn't even get the meds.

Attempt 3.  Mix it with milk.  Put the milk in a big boy cup.  Semi success until he got to the bottom.  "I don't want it! It's yucky".  Eff.

Add chocolate to it.  Again.  "I don't want it."  Super.  We give up, hoping we've somehow forced enough down his throat to make a difference until tomorrow morning.

So, I don't want to mix it with milk cause he's a good milk drinker.  Who wants to ruin that?  I'm going to try yogurt in the morning and if that fails the doc's got to come up with something else.  Food coloring?  wonder if that'll work.  I'm not going to torture my sick 2 year old and scar him for life.  Or at least scare him enough to not ever take medicine willingly again.

So who's got solutions?  Suggestions?  Criticism?  Keep in mind, if you're mean, I'll write a post about you and I haven't actually slept in 3 weeks so my tongue is quick and sharp. :)

The Best part?  He got some.  I think.  Oh, and he's sick, so I don't feel nearly as guilty about a day filled with television (educational of course) after a night void of sleep.

Observations and Revalations Part C

She slept five hours over the weekend.  Might have been the wine.  Or perhaps she likes sushi.  Either way, don't care.  Five hours.

I sat and laughed with my husband at dinner without getting a hotdog, having to put on Handy Manny, or nurse someone at the table.  It. Was. Magical.

I drank too much wine.  Kinda proud.

Medical tape remnants remain on my leg.  Really.

I know exactly what day it is.  Have zero concept of what the date is.

I have no idea who will help me remember to take the turket out on Thursday.  Taking volunteers.

Fighting the urge to decorate for Christmas is easy when you're not sleeping and just trying to keep up.

I will get my hair done before Thanksgiving.

Breast milk poop is gross.  Toddler man poops are grosser. 

In preparing for my first ever Thanksgiving dinner hosting I am woefully unsupplied and may have my mom bring most of her kitchen from the Lou.

We gave her a bottle.  Actually the sitter gave her a bottle.  Miraculously, she survived.  A. Mazing.

Toddler fevers only show up in the middle of the night and they only show up when you're NOT already up with the baby.

Pretty good chance I won't get out of my pj's today.  Unless we have to go to the doctor.  In which case I still might not put on real clothes.

Laundry does not disappear, not matter how many times you wish for it to. 

The Best part?  Date night.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

reluctantly...

I have to be inspired to blog.  I know when it hits me and I start composing in my head.  It never takes long when I have the inspiration and what comes out is almost always a masterpiece.  If it's not, it ends up in the draft pile.  For the next 7 to 10 days inspiration will have to hit me over the head like a brick cause I'll have to walk up 13 stairs to blog. 

Reluctantly I am sending my trusty netbook to Texas today.  That's right, someone in India with 700 consonants in their name and only 2 vowels told me to send it there.  They also tried to convince me that the fact that the screen goes white when you move it around is a 'system' problem.  Really?  That doesn't seem like a short to you?  I mean I'm no expert... but.

So, today I mail her away.  There will be less emailing, less facebooking, and less blogging.  But it is only temporary.  You will be ok.  I will be ok.  And hopefully my netbook (which I was assured was going to be returned from Nowhere, Texas) will be better for it.  I hope.

Until then... or until I walk up 13 stairs to use the desktop.  I bid  you adieu.

The Best part?  I decided to do something about the screen problem two days before the warranty expired.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Like a Virgin

It's adventure day.  Read: it's 'I feel so guilty that I don't give my 2 year old enough attention that we're making a big deal out of the aquarium and lunch out' day.  See, I'm pretty sure C will never forgive me.  I'm also pretty sure he'll never remember life before E was born.  That's how irrational my mommy guilt is.  Anyway.  It's my first day home with both of them without Dan and we went on an adventure.

Fish.  Sharks.  Sharkrays.  Stingrays.  A sleeping baby all the way through.  Perfection.

On to lunch.

C is super excited to sit in a booster seat these days so I'll take it.  We sit down.  We order lunch.  He is being an angel.  And I no longer have a sleeping baby.  Oh and she's hungry.  Her little not even 8 pound body hasn't eaten in 2 hours and she's hungry. 

Ok. 

Thinking this might happen, I asked to be seated in the back of the restaurant.  Also, it was 11:15.  We were the first people in there for lunch.  I planned it this way.  I'm a planner.  Duh. (See, I considered waking her up in the aquarium to feed her. It's dark in there and busy. No one would likely notice. Problem was I had visions of chasing Cannon around the penguins, trying to keep his hands out of the shark tank with one boob out. That vision was enough to wait.)  So if E had to eat we'd be alone and I had a cover I'm borrowing from a friend and I could do it. 

Or could I?

Enter a field trip.  Of middle schoolers.  Not kidding.  Couldn't be a bunch of kindergartners and their moms who would for sure smile at me reassuringly as I nursed the baby at the lunch table.  Nope.  A field trip of middle schoolers.  Phe. Nomenal.

Then.  I remembered this.  Hey, guess where we were having lunch?  That's right.  Johnny Rockets.  Hey.  Guess which Johnny Rockets we were having lunch in? That's right.  The one where the manager kicked the mama out.  Cue sweat glands.  Would they think I was staging some sort of 'sit in'?  Making a statement?  I wasn't.  I'm not interested in making statements.  I'm not in this to take a stand.  I just want to need to feed the baby.

So, I have a screaming two week old.  A two year old quietly enjoying his lunch.  And I'm in a restaurant where mere months ago a mom was lectured and given the boot for nursing on the patio.  I was inside.  Surely that's even worse.  Eff. 

I have to feed her.  I have to feed her.  I try soothing her other ways.  Does. Not. Work.  Screaming 2 week old.  Not good for a nursing mama.  Or anyone else for that matter.  Fumble fumble.  Get cover on.  Fumble fumble.  Cannon tells me I'm playing hide 'n seek with Emerson.  Fumble fumble... and LATCH!   Hoo. Ray.  Five minutes I feed her.  That has to be enough to hold her until we get to the car or better yet, home.  It is.  We are subsequently ignored for the rest of the meal by our server (who until now had been making ketchup faces in bowls and talking to Cannon about fish).  He brings the check.  Just to spite him I order a kiddie milkshake (that and cause I wanted one).  To go. 

So.  I did it.  I fed the baby.  In public.  Barely.  But it's a start I guess.  Maybe it will get easier?  Got any tips?  How bout confidence boosters?

The Best part?  I didn't flash any middle schoolers.  I don't think.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Buttoned Up

So it's been like 8 months since I've worn pants that button.  Like with real buttons. 

At 10:30 tonight E will be 2 weeks old.  Today I buttoned my 'big girl jeans' or BGJ. 

Some background.

I bought my BGJ when Cannon was 6 months old or so.  I was tired of my designer jeans not buttoning or coming close to buttoning along with the rest of my pants.  So I bought BGJ.  6 months.  I wore them until his first birthday when my real pants fit again. 

Today my BGJ buttoned.  That my friends is a victory.  A victory I didn't work for.  I will take it.

The Best part?  2 weeks.

Little. Yellow. Different.

She's little.  She's slightly yellow.  But she's not different.  E has breastmilk jaundice.  Her liver is working just fine.  She's gained 6oz since Monday.  We.  Will.  Take.  It.

Currently planning a Mommy and Cannon adventure day for tomorrow.  Pretty sure it involves sharks and milkshakes.

The Best part?  6oz. :)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Observations and Revalations Week Dos

I made dinner tonight.  Victory.


You can in fact eat pizza three nights in a row for dinner and still lose weight.  A. Mazing.


Indian style (or whatever the PC term is for sitting with your legs crossed is) is a bad idea.  I think it will be for a while.

So is scooting around the floor on your butt trying to capture a picture of your two children who have yet to be pictured together because your 2 year old isn't so sure just yet is a bad idea.  And it's even worse when you have the wrong lens on so you are way too close to capture anything.

We are about 24 hours from the 2 week mark and I still have medical tape remnants on my hands from the IV.  Judge away.  I have showered at least every other day.

There is no guilt more gripping or irrational than mommy guilt.  This will be an entire chapter in my book someday.  C said to me this afternoon 'My want to doe on venture with you Mommy'.  Translation: I want to go on an adventure with you Mommy.  He had just gotten back from an adventure with Daddy.  Heart.  Broken.  We are going on an adventure on Friday.  Every time E eats he wants to eat.  Every time I pick her up he wants to be picked up.  It's hard.  Really.  Effing.  Hard. 

You can in fact watch Toy Story too many times.  To infinity and... shoot me.  The first one is better than the second for the record.

Even a good latch will make your toes curl for at least a few seconds.

I have irrational anxiety about daylight saving (little known fact: it is NOT daylight savingS time) time and a toddler's sleep schedule.  It's only awesome to 'fall back' if you get an extra hour before last call and get to sleep in even later.

The infamous squirt bottle is now a toy. 

The Best part?  Weigh in tomorrow for E.  Hoping to be back to birth weight... or like 10 pounds.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Latch This

Is it wrong to call your 11 day old names?  First let me tell you why.

After three days of extreme frustration, countless meltdowns, little to no sleep, nipple shields, shells and pain, we went to the lactation consultant (LC) this afternoon.  Baby E made me look like a cracked out moron the way she jumped on and chowed down.  No pain.  Perfect latch.  Ate for 20 minutes.  No pulling off, no stopping, no falling asleep.  None of it.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I was an emotional disaster for days over this.  And we go get help and she doesn't need it? 

Now can I call her names?  :)

Actually I am SO glad we went.  These women at the hospital are phenomenal.  She answered just about every question I had and made me feel SO much better.  She had me nurse her without any clothes on and had me squeeze up high (sorry if that's TMI but if you're a regular reader you're over that by now).  It was amazing.  It was perfect.  It was the way it's supposed to be.  Now, the true test will be in an hour.  When it's time to do it again.  Latch This.

Now, let me just say thank you.  I started this blog as a way to tell stories and share anecdotes.  Who knew it would be a way to get support and make virtual friends.  Granted, most of my regulars are pre-blog besties but I love that some of you aren't. 

On another note, I think I'm onto something.  There is a market for things moms don't talk about.  I'm not easily embarassed and really don't have a problem talking about much with just about anyone.  But how come before I had kids no one said 'breast feeding sucks'... 'it's really freaking hard'... 'you'll be constipated for days after birth'... 'you don't know bleeding until you've had a baby'... 'let me tell you about the squirt bottle, witch hazel and the biggest pads you've ever seen'...the list goes on.  I read Girlfriend's Guide and Belly Laughs and either skipped those parts or they weren't there.  I'm just saying I think I'm onto something.

Standby.

The Best part?  She latched!!!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

holy exhaustion batman...

It would take little, if any, work at all for me to dress as a strung out crack addict for Halloween tonight.

We were doing ok... until.

We've been trying to get in bed around 10.  I'll feed E and then we all go to sleep for a few hours.  She's been getting up every 2 1/2 or 3 hours.  She'll nurse and go back to sleep.  Until last night.  Or was it the night before?

Latching on was a foreign concept to a starving little girl last night.  She wasn't interested.  At. All.  I had no idea what to do.  We had no idea what to do.  Short of putting chocolate on my nipple I was at a loss.  I have plenty of milk (read: soaking her with milk).  I thought we had the latch down.  Guess not.   So I pumped and gave her a bottle.  I didn't want to.  I cried about it.  I cried most of the night actually.  But after she had the bottle she slept for a while then we went through it all again. 

With swollen, bleary eyes I frantically googled this morning and found the number for the local LLL (La Leche League).  I am NOT a breast feeding proponent (I really think it's an individual decision and no one else can tell you how or what is best for you and your family).  Cannon never latched and he got breast milk from a bottle for about 12 weeks until I was tired of being a cow.  He is a perfectly healthy, smart, mostly formula fed baby. 

But this time, I wanted to try again.  More for me than for E.  I wanted to be able to do it.  For some reason it was really important to me this time.  So, imagine being exhausted from a new baby.  Sitting in her nursery in the middle of the night, bawling.  It was not a pretty sight.  Ask Dan. 

After a conversation with the LLL lady who was absolutely nothing short of delightful and pleasant when I called her at 8am on a Sunday, and a few deep breaths we got a latch this morning.  For half an hour.  Thank. God. 

We're going to try and feed her every couple hours today so she doesn't get extra hungry and frustrated before we can latch and hope that helps.  We shall see. 

Could be quite a treat for the trick or treaters. :)

The Best part?  It's a new day.  A cloudy, foggy, exhuasted day but it's a new day.

Oh and please consider this an advice solicitation from any of you super breast feeders... I'm soliciting advice.  :)  You know who you are.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

1 boy and 1 girl

So, there is a cut in a different direction than most 'cuts'.  There are stitches.  There is percocet involved.  I ran out.  Called to renew the prescription and this is the conversation I had with the nurse at my OB's office.

Nurse: So, how are you feeling?
Me: (thinking we're talking about the reason I'm calling, to refill a prescription on a controlled substance) I'm ok, just still pretty sore.
Nurse: And how is the baby?
Me: She's good.
Nurse: And so now you have how many kids?
Me: 2.
Nurse: So you have a girl... and...
Me: a boy.
Nurse: Good for you!  One of each.  So you want Dr. Crawford to renew your prescription?
Me: Yes, I'm still pretty sore.
Nurse: Ok, you can come and pick it up anytime (did you know you have to pick up prescriptions for percocet? they can't be called in).

And scene.

So, was that a quiz?  Was she making sure I wasn't high?  Was she afraid I'd be handing the pills out on Halloween?  I'm not sure.  The good news is I passed the test.  And she was probably just being nice making conversation.  I, on the other hand, was probably just paranoid that they would question why I want more pills.  This could quickly spiral out of control. 

In other news...

In 12 hours our little girl will be 1 week old.  I'm feeling a headbanded photo shoot in our future.

Cannon went to school today in a tshirt that says "Coolest Big Brother".  Cause he is.

1 week appointment this morning, she gained 3 ounces in 3 days.  We'll take it.  Apparently my milk is working.  Hoo. Ray.

If I were a contestant on the Biggest Loser, I would definitely be above the yellow line this week.  Why?  Oh, cause in the last 7 days I've lost 20 pounds.  What?  Um, I have fought off five pounds for MONTHS before.  I know it's mostly water weight and baby but does that matter?  Nope.  Sure doesn't. 

The Best part?  Pumpkin carving tonight.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Seeing Double

Bet you didn't know that we have twins.  





The Best part?  The girly version of Cannon :)


Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Observations and Revelations

We drink at least one pot of coffee now.  Sometimes two.

My two year old might as well be a fourth grader.  I can NOT get over how big and grown up he is now.  He may as well be speaking with a British accent and using words like 'inpromptu' and 'plethora'.

If Cannon was older he would be taking full advantage of the fact that we'll give him just about anything he wants right now.  What? You want a new BMW and a million dollars?  It's yours buddy.

Never thought I'd say this.  Cannon was a 'chunky' 8lbs 4oz and only 20 inches.  Subtract a pound and add a half inch.  Emerson has ONE outfit that fits.  One.  We'll be shopping today.

I can totally see how people get addicted to percocet.  No need for an intervention but the difference it makes in my pain management is amazing.  No idea why people refuse drugs. 

I fell asleep nursing twice last night.  E doesn't seem to mind.  Not sure how long I was asleep.  Oops. 

Little girls can pee on you too.  They also poop on you.  And on your bed if that's where you chose to change them.

I had ankles my entire pregnancy.  I would like them back.

No matter how warm you make the water in the 'squirt bottle' (if you don't know, don't ask) it's never warm enough.  Never.

The cleaning lady starts tomorrow.  We will be cleaning before she comes.  I hated when my mom made us do that, didn't make any sense.  Aren't we paying her to clean?  I would die before she saw our bathroom the way it is right now.

Friends who bring dinner over are the best.

I think there are bills to be paid.  I should look into that.

Life is so good we can barely stand it.

The Best part?  The 7 pound (slightly yellow) bundle asleep on my chest right now.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Because



She was Emerson all along.  We both knew it.  We just had to wait and see her.  She was Emerson Elizabeth from the start.

Emerson.  Because we like it.  Because it's classic without being traditional.  Because it rolls off the tongue of a 2 year old and a 60 year old.  Because it's sweet but strong.  Because it will look fabulous on a business card someday.  Because for now it will look amazing monogrammed across her fancy pants.  Because Emme is a precious nickname.  Because it goes swimmingly with Cannon.  Because it fits.

Elizabeth.  Because it's my middle name.  Because it's my Mom's name.  Because it's my late maternal Grandmother's name.  Because it's my paternal, paternal, maternal's (my paternal  grandfather's mother's) name.  Because it's Classic.  Because it goes with everything.  Because now she carries with her a legacy. 

The Best part?  She was Emerson all along.

Donut

I'm sitting on one.  Not eating one.  It goes everywhere I do.  She's worth every ounce of pain.

I have a million blog posts floating around in my head and sorting it all out will take time.  How bouts a quick labor summary?

Wednesday (10.20.2010, the could've been birthday) midnight.  'Ripening' started.  Thursday 7am, contractions started.  Tolerable.  I was rocking.  4cm.  Bring on the epidural trial.  They did it.  It worked.  With one hotspot.  One hotspot that would be the end of me.  Stuck at 4cm.  Pitocin.  Still rocking.  Breathing through pain in the hotspot.  10cm at 9pm Thursday.  Rapidly approaching 24 hours.  Pushing.  Immense pain.  Horrible pain.  Didn't want to risk re-doing the epidural to find that the second one didn't work at all.  Go get her.  Please go get her.  So he did.  I pushed, he pulled.  10:34pm.  Miracle #2 enters our lives.  Pain disappears.  Our hearts overflow.  She is perfect.

We are so so blessed.   I had a glass of wine last night.  I haven't slept since Tuesday night (it's Sunday). 

She looks EXACTLY like Cannon only she's petite and girly.  We are all in love.

Lots more to come.  Starting to sort out thoughts.

The Best part?  Too many to chose from.  Life.  Is.  Perfect.