Oh, Hello.

Taking a quick minute to let you know that yes, in fact, I am still alive.

Last night (or should I say this morning), we finished up Homecoming Week.  As the Student Council Advisor, I have spent the last month or so planning, organizing, and preparing everything for the week.  Countless hours have gone into it, and finally, the week arrived.

Each day held a different spirit day with different dress-up clothes required.  We put on a huge bonfire, held a Powder Puff game where (only) three girls got (minorly) hurt.  We spent hours transforming the gym into a "theater" for an assembly, the likes of which you've probably never seen.  We then spent even more hours re-transforming the gym into a dance floor and the cafeteria into space, complete with a huge 3D moon, MARS rover, and hundreds of stars hanging from the ceiling.  And then we spent one hour cleaning it all up and putting it all away.

It was an AMAZING week.  My kids did an incredible job.  There were tons of students dressed up each day, hundreds at the bonfire, and at least 1,000 at the dance.  Many said the assembly and dance were the best of their high school career so far.  I'm so proud of my team.

Needless to say, I'm pretty tired.  I barely saw Will all week, but I am happy to report that he and Husband connected a lot and that things went well overall.

In theory, I might have a little more free time now.  You know, time to actually get on the computer and/or even blog.  What?  Impossible, you say?

Well, it might not happen, but I'm going to try.

To hold you over until I post Will's (overdue) 6 month update, here we are last weekend at his first big football game.

I'll be back (soon, I hope!)

Five Minute Friday: Joining Leagues and Orders

Clearly, you can tell that the school year has begun, because once again, I have dropped off the face of the world.  Well, the blog world and other computer-related world.

What better way to try to get back into things than a Five-Minute-Friday post?  I have class in 20 minutes and have to make sure I'm ready to teach those 30 lovely high schoolers, so I really can only afford 5 minutes, anyways.

Today's topic?  Join.

Here goes.

It's the beginning of the school year.  This is the part of the year where connections are made.  Connections between myself and my students, connections between students and students, connections between "real life" and "work life" or "school life."  Everyone here is joining something.  Joining a new class, a new group of friends, a new idealogy for what life is going to be like this year.

Me?  I've joined the League of Moms Who Work Full Time.  Moms whose babies spend more time awake during the week with their daycare provider than their mommy, Moms who leave work on time (a first!) to go pick up and snuggle that baby.  Moms who love their jobs,  but love their babies more.  Moms who learn to operate on not-enough sleep, becuse there is no way to get everything done without staying up a little later and getting up a little earlier.  Moms who teach themselves to be disciplined and orgazined and think ahead, because otherwise the normal 5 minutes late out the door in the morning is 25 minutes late.   

I've joined the Order of Women Whose Husbands Work and Go to School.  Women who try to support and challenge and be there for their men.  To encourage, to edit, to do our own work while they do their homework.  Women who try to put meals on the table around their husband's class schedule, who stay up later to make sure they get to have a good conversation with their man, who want to do everything possible to help Hubby be successful.

I want to write more, but my five minutes are up, and I don't have time to "cheat" and expand on my thoughts, anyway.  So here's to joining Leagues and Orders and being the woman God would have me be, okay?

Lastly, today is my little man's 5 month birthday.  As a present, I took him to the doctor and got him an antibiotic for his very first ear infection.  Yeay!  But seriously, isn't he cute?

How to Make a New Working Mom Feel Bad... and What Will's Doing for DayCare

Note: This post is a little snarky, or maybe a lot snarky.  Please don't take offense at it. Be sure to read my commentary at the end.

How to Make a New Working Mom Feel Bad:

1. Assume she isn't going back to work.

2. When you find out she is going back to work, make an "oh that's too bad" face or comment.

3. Assume she found a "desirable" daycare situation for her baby, like family, or friends, or, at the very least, an in-home daycare. 

4. When you find out the baby is going to a regular old daycare center, make an "oh that's too bad" face or comment. 

To really hit this one home, say something like, "Can't your parents take him?" or "My friend is using this website to do background checks on home-care places.  I could get it for you."  or "I bet if you ask around, you could find a home-care place.  I knew a lady who only took teacher's kids."

5. When you find out the regular old daycare center isn't a fancy special one, but just a Kindercare, make an "oh that's too bad" face or comment.

6. Offer platitudes about how it will all work out to try to make her feel better.



Okay, so, first, please note that most of my actual friends have not said these things to me, as they've been in the loop on the situation the entire time.  It's actually mostly been acquaintances and near-strangers who've commented.  And if you are my friend, and you have said something like #4, know that I know that you weren't trying to hurt my feelings; you were just trying to be helpful.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing I've discovered in the last week as I've prepared to go back for work is that somewhere over the course of the last several months, I have learned to believe that by sending my son to a daycare center, he's not in the best situation he can be in.  When people ask me "who is taking care of him?" I respond with "He's just at a daycare center."  Just?   No, not just.  It's a very nice facility, with a staff that seems lovely and well-trained and very caring so far. 

I shouldn't have to feel guilty for going back to work.  I'm not here just because we need the money, but because I love my job.  LOVE it.  Being a SAHM wouldn't work for me, although I admit that I could probably go part-time if the finances allowed. 

I shouldn't have to feel guilty for putting him in a daycare center.  I asked around.  I put out feelers for a home-care situation.  Nobody I knew was able to recommend someone to me, and I just wasn't comfortable finding a place online, regardless of how well it was rated.  So I visited a few centers near school and home, and picked this one based on several factors.  It's not just a daycare center.  I'm not going to let myself say that anymore.

The reality is, I'm a full-time working mom.  I love my job, and I love my son.  I love my son more than I love my job.  I wasn't going to put him somewhere that wasn't good for him.  We'll see how this goes, and if doesn't work out, I'll find somewhere else.  But for now, I'm happy with it.  He's doing okay, he's getting adjusted.  And I don't want to feel badly about my choice.

I guess I'm saying that it's really not all the fault of the people who've made those faces and comments, because I've set them up to say them by saying he's just at daycare.  I've believed that family or friends or home-care is best, too, and I've felt guilty.

But I'm done with that, okay?

From now on, here's what I'm going to say:  "Will's at a daycare center really close to our house.  So far, the staff seems really lovely.  I really like the directors, and the lady who is with him most of the day is this Bosnian-grandmother type who clearly loves babies and wants to take really good care of him.  He's only been there a few days, but he seems to be adjusting pretty well - I think he really likes watching the other babies and can't wait to be able to sit up on his own and play, too."

So that's that.

My, How We've Grown

Coming soon, an update on Will at four-months, which he turned the same day as his Great-Grandpa Bob turned 97.  For now, a quick visual on how he's grown!

Here's my little man (as confirmed by his shirt) sometime in April.  Didn't capture his feet, but they were right at the edge of this picture.

And here he is a couple of weeks ago, in early July.  Check out those long legs dangling off the Boppy!  Regardless of his size, it's still one of his favorite places to chill out.

A hint of what's to come in his four-month update: He's grown 5 inches since birth and is now 24 inches long - that's right - he's two feet tall!  (In case you were wondering, which you probably weren't, Charles Stratton, aka "General Tom Thumb," only grew to be 25 inches tall and stayed that way his entire life.) 

He's also started to do a few more fun things than before, like reach out for toys and talk talk talk. 

I'll tell you about sleeping and what I'm thinking about going back to work (which I do next Monday).  Tomorrow I have my first experience with leaving him with someone other than Dad or Nonna, as I have Jury Duty.... it makes me cry just thinking about it!  I'm hoping that "nursing mother" gets me sent home right away.

Anyway, stay tuned for the update within the next few days!

Who Knew?

Who Knew That...

... some babies don't like to take naps for more than 30 minutes at a time, making it nearly imposisble to get anything of substance done?

... sneaking all sorts of bits of chocolate and other things here and there during pregnancy would indeed make it a little lot more challenging to lose the preggo-weight (read my plea for accountability here?

... a bedroom could seem so much bigger when you take the pack-and-play away and have the baby sleep in his own room?

... making a meal plan for the week and buying the groceries accordingly actually helps you stick to the budget and eat healthier?

... your house is never quite as picked up as you'd like it to be when you have a child, no matter how old they are, I'm guessing?

... you can memorize some of those children's books pretty quickly?  The sun has set not long ago, and everybody goes below... I don't even read that book anymore, I just recite it as we rock before bed.  (The Going to Bed Book, by Sandra Boynton)

... figuring out how to cut your spending to find a seemingly exorbitant amount of money to pay for daycare is quite challenging?

... coming up with creative, non-mommy things to blog is also challenging, since my day is mostly mommy-ish?

... that, even if I wanted to tell you about something non-mommy-ish, like the yummy homemade lettuce wraps with quinoa, chicken, and veggies I made yesterday, it would sort of be pointless because I didn't think to get a picture because I barely had time to make them?

...watching your baby's face light up in a huge smile when he sees you could so totally make your day?

... that Jesus still has a lot to say to you, if you'd just take the time to listen?

... and that He doesn't mind if your quiet time is interrupted frequently by attending to the baby; He still wants to talk?

... it is nearly impossible to grasp what life is going to be like when I go back to work and Husband starts school?

... how much I would miss Husband when he went back to work, even though I was (am) glad he was able to get a job?

... how freaking adorable it is to see my son sleeping in his crib, a little baby in a big bed, with his arms flung wide out of the blanket since he is apparently incapable of falling asleep without being swaddled but also incapable of not wiggling free?

... it's hard not to wish I had more followers or comments and wonder how I could grow my blog, while simultaenously stubbornly refusing to take the time to find, go to, read, and comment on others' blogs, which I think might be the trick?

... that I would be annoyed with myself for caring about something stupid like followers and comments?

... that the Bumbo may not be something our Peanut likes, even though you'd think he would?

... that DVR would be one of my almost favorite-ist things, especially upon discovery of some fun Food Network shows?

... that I end up staying awake way later than I should to grab some "me" time and put the house to sort-of-rights after Will goes to sleep, so I secretly sometimes wish his bedtime was a little earlier?

... that I could easily come up with a bunch more things I didn't apparently know?


You probably knew.... but I'm just learning them. 

3 Months and a Plea for Accountability

Note: I wrote this the day after Will's 3 Month Birthday, which was the 24th, but, due to the fires, I was distracted the rest of the week.  :)



Yesterday morning I sang "Happy Birthday" to Will to celebrate his 3 Month Birthday.  He smiled, laughed, clapped, and of course, I couldn't get it on camera.  The second he saw the little "picture about to be taken" focus light, he was wide-eyed and startled looking.  Still cute.

Development: I have no idea how much Will weighs or how long he is at this point.  I suppose I could try to weigh him and get out the tape measure, but I'm lazy.  He's bigger than he was before, that's what I know.  I'll tell you what the official result is at his 4 month check-up.  Let's just say that he fills in his car seat and your arm gets tired after holding him more than before.

He's able to hold his head up quite a bit without bobbing all over the place, and he's rolled over twice.  The first time, my friend Brooke and I were sitting and chatting while he had some tummy time and then both were like, "wait, did that just happen?!"  Actually, since I started this post, Will has proven that he officially has learned to roll over from his tummy to his back.  Put him down for tummy time, and within a minute, he'll roll over.  We've started having him sit propped up more, too, to take in a new world view.

He's alert a lot more of the time, and definitely taking in the world.  He's very verbal - he tells us about everything and I can't wait to hear more. 

Personality: Will's moods can change in the flash of an instant.  One minute, a piercing temper-tantrum throwing scream.  The next?  He's all smiles.  Really, he's wonderful.  I do think that, once he's old enough to get it, we quite possibly will be working on learning that having a fit is not the way to get something you need.

He's learning to contentedly spend time independently - in his crib, on his mat on the floor, in his swing, but he also really enjoys his "people time," too.  He really loves being held upright and checking things out.

Sleep:  Night time sleeping is going pretty well!  He's going to bed between 8 and 9 most nights, and usually wakes up between 1 and 3 to eat.  Lots of times he wakes up again between 4 and 5, depending on how early he woke up before, but if I bring him to cuddle in bed for a little while (don't judge), he goes right back to sleep until about 7. 

Nap time is the thing that's hard.  He really only will sleep for about 30 - 45 minutes max, no matter how sleepy he really is.  I'm hoping that he'll figure out the longer nap, soon.  He's certainly being awake for longer, so I think he needs to nap longer, too.  He just gets himself so tuckered out!  But he also hates falling asleep for naps - he's already not wanting to miss things.

Eating: No changes here.  Still eating every 2 to 3 hours during the day.  We do a mixture of breast-feeding and pumped bottle-feeding, with maybe a bottle of formula a day, too, depending.  He has a healthy appetite, for sure.

Likes/Dislikes:  Ceiling fans.  He loves ceiling fans.   Today he laid on the floor at my parents' house and just laughed and smiled as he watched the fan go round and round.  He likes his little ducky blanket, as you can clearly see here.  This little video makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.

He sincerely dislikes falling asleep for naps, as I mentioned, but there isn't much else he truly seems to dislike, aside from situational things.  He's really pretty good natured, except for when he isn't. :)

Baths are something that he sort of likes, like maybe.  He's pretty squirmy, and we might be moving to be a bigger baby bath soon, because he's filling up the little one pretty quickly.  The thing he doesn't like about baths is the cold air when he gets out, even though the house has been 80 degrees for the last week.  However, we've found that swaddled into this fun Lil' Husker towel, given to us by some friends, he doesn't mind it quite so much.

Milestones: I've pretty much already given these away!  He's taught himself to roll over, so that's huge.  I'm quite grateful he hasn't learned the back-to-tummy roll yet, though.  And he's a laugher, which to me is a milestone.  We've also narrowed daycare down to two places, and are leaning towards one, which may not be a milestone for him, but certainly is for me.

Mommy Update: Mommy is quite unhappy with her figure these days.  I'm going to just be totally honest and show you the two pictures that make me cringe.  And I mean C.R.I.N.G.E.   I don't want to be hung up on body image stuff, but the reality is, I don't feel good about myself, and if that doesn't change, going back to work is going to be really hard.  I need to feel healthy and feel like things are improving, so it's time to get my act together. 

And I'm asking you to help hold me accountable. 

There are a few things I really need to do to start to feel healthier and better about myself:

One: Develop a better eating schedule that I can take into the school year.  

I often don't eat breakfast, so my metabolism doesn't get going as it should.  And during school, sometimes I barely eat lunch, too.  As a result, I eat a ton in the afternoon and evening.  Recently I found out that this is how Sumo wrestlers gain weight.  Obviously that diet has clearly got to go.   I also tend to eat compulsively when doing "sitting" activities - grading papers, watching T.V., reading a book.  That needs to stop, too, unless I'm snacking on green beans!

Two: Eat better and in the right amounts.

I'm a salt and starch addict.  Give me cheese and crackers, nachos, bread and butter, and I'll be a happy girl.  Until I look at those pictures again, and realize I am starching my way into misery.  I'm mostly cutting out those types of things and loading up on the lean meats and fruits and veggies.  I'm limiting the sugar in my coffee and not drinking soda at all (except for when we go out for pizza).  I want to snack on things like grapes and almonds, but not look down and realize I've eaten the whole back of almonds in one sitting. 

Three: Exercise.

No matter how hot it is, or how much Will wants to be held, I know I can find 30 minutes to do a workout video, get on the treadmill, or go for a walk.  It's just about me getting off my lazy rear end and stopping making excuses.

That's the theme here - no more excuses.  It's time to just do it, because I need to feel good about me.  Will you help me?  Seriously, I would love to hear from you now and again asking me how I'm doing, and holding me accountable to posting periodically on my journey to better health.

Speaking of which, I'm going to go cut up the pineapple and watermelon sitting in my fridge so I can snack on those tomorrow.

Two Months

Two months.  Such a short time, long time, amazing time.  Two months is short, in the big scheme of things.  I've been a mom for two months of my 355.  (Sure, go do the math if you want to.)  Two months is long, for Will, it's been his whole life.  It feels long, to me.  Remembering not being a mom is fuzzy.  Two months is amazing.  This little boy has grown so much, changed so much, can do so much more, is so much more his own little person.  Wow.  Two months.

Ginny checking out her "brother baby" (we call her his "sister dog") while he was at her level.

Development: Will weighed in at 10.9 lbs. yesterday, diaper included, so we can guess he weighs about 10 3/4 lbs in actuality.  He is now 22 inches long, edging in on two feet tall!  (I just read a story about a woman who never grew past 2 1/2 feet, but was fully developed.  Odd to think of.)  At lunch last week, Will's Nonna (my mom), Grandad (my dad), Daddy, and I all took guesses as to what he'd weigh and measure.  We were weigh (haha, get it?) off, as two of us thought he'd be over 11 lbs and two thought over 12.  Still, the pediatrician said he's gaining weight consistently and is doing very well!

He's also, as you can see, rocking the tummy time.  This little mister holds his head up like a pro, and has been doing so for a while.  The other day he scootched himself around 180 degrees to face the other direction.  When he's upright, he holds his head up and looks around, and he's already practicing "standing," too.  He's amazingly strong.

He continues to be very "verbal" - and often, those sounds are fun and happy.  We still get lots of complaining about things that are not okay with him, but we take delight in his cheerful talk more often now, too.  He has a BIG smile, and a sweet little laugh, and he's starting to smile at us when we come in after being gone.  Melts a mama's heart!

Personality: I think we are going to have our hands full with the little man as he grows up.  My dad would say it's payback, as I was quite the pistol, myself.  Will makes it clear when he's unhappy (although we can't always figure out why) and, when he's hungry, is basically inconsolable until he gets his little tummy full.  He's a little feisty, in some ways, but he's also really sweet and easy going in others.  In the right mood, he can contentedly sit in his swing and take in the world (well, the small part of the hosue he can see from there) with his big blue eyes.  If I had to guess, I'd say he's got some of his mom's stubborness and independence, and some of his dad's easy-going, laid back nature.  We'll see as he continues to grow!

Sleep:  Most nights we're up to about 3 and a half hours of sleep before he needs to get up.  If he wakes up earlier than that, we try to get him to fall asleep again... it works sometimes.  He's still sleeping in the pack-n-play at the foot of our bed.  I was contemplating trying his own room soon (he does take his naps in there), but the pediatrician yesterday told me she didn't think I needed to start that just yet, since we still do get up semi-often at night.  The thing we had the most trouble with before was with him going back to sleep, but he's doing much better with that these days.

Nap times are still frequent, and fairly short.  He usually doesn't sleep longer than an hour, max, and more often, only about 45 minutes.  Still, with wise planning, I can get a lot done during those little breaks.  But I still like to let him have at least one nap just cuddled on me.  It's a nice little rest for both of us, I think.  I like having him be my snuggle bunny, anyway.

Eating:  May I introduce you to Little Piggy?  That's why we thought he'd weigh more.  During the day he eats about every two hours still.  The only way he goes longer is if he's sleeping.  I've been pumping more and giving him a bottle; he seems to like it better, actually.  He has zero trouble switching between bottle and breast, though - as long as there is milk, he's ready to go.  When we give him the bottle, he puts his little hands around it as if he's going to hold it, and if you take it away, he tries to grab it and push your hand back to his mouth.  Okay, little piggy.  :) 

Likes/Dislikes:  He is much more into the swing now that he's a little bigger and a little more calm most of the time.  Like I said, he can spend a good chunk of time sitting there, taking in the bookshelf next to him, being content.  He almost always eventually falls asleep there, and takes a nap a day while swinging away.  He obviously likes eating, and dislikes it when you take the bottle away or move him to switch sides even for a second if he's not done yet.  He really lets you know, Mr. Talkative that he is.  If I may brag, he likes his mama a lot, but still is also good about letting other people hold him, too.  He's a StuCo baby, so he has to be used to it.  He does not like it when he has tummy troubles, or even if he has to poop.  He'll let you know about that, too.  One of the big dogs at my parents, Darcy, loves Will and wants to be wherever he is.  Ginny and Georgie (the other husky) are starting to pay more attention to him, too, and Will seems to be okay with it. 

Milestones:  It's all the little things, you know? From how much he holds his head up to how alert he his and how he talks and smiles and laughs.  He's gone to many more places - other restaurants, coffee shops, people's houses, StuCo functions.  On Mother's Day, we participated in a baby dedication at church, promising to do our best to teach him to love his Father.  Last night he attended his first wedding, although he was tired and so we stood outside the sanctuary and watched and listened through the glass while he went to sleep (because, of course, Mr. Talkative has to talk himself to sleep, too).  We go on walks, and have even jogged some.  I suspect that's more of a milestone for me, right?    His summer is going to be full of visitors - his grandma comes today for the weekend, his "Aunt" Brooke comes from Korea in June, and his Virginia family (includng his soon to be BFF Henry, age 5 months), is coming in July.  Then we'll be off for a week in the mountains.  I'm ahead of myself - these are future milestones! 

Several people have asked me recently if I love being a mom.  Well, of course I do.  It's the most amazing thing I've ever done.  But you know me, the non-Ms.-mush, honest to a fault - so I also tell them it's the hardest thing, too.  I'm tired.  The last time I slept for more than 4 hours was March 22nd.  Changing poopy diapers (which are now getting amazingly stinky) is not my favorite pasttime.  Trying to get a seemingly inconsolable baby to stop crying is exhausting, especially when you've tried everything. 

But I love watching his little face as we sit together in the dark of the night, with the light from the streetlight outside and the little monkey nightlight in the bathroom giving the room a gentle glow.  It's just his and my time, as his daddy sleeps on right beside us, unaware of everything. 

And I love that, once his diaper is changed, he almost always offers the sweetest smile as he rests contentedly on the changing table.  He does some of his best babbling there, too.

And once that inconsolable baby is consoled, well, he looks up at me with these big blue eyes, full of left over tears, and my heart melts.  Or he falls alseep in my arms, peaceful bliss upon his face. 

So I'll take tired, I guess.  The trade-off is worth it.

Four Generations- Great-Grandpa Bob, Nonna, Mom (that's me!), and Will. 

The One Where I Talk About Being a Mom....Again

Had to share this picture.  How that's comfortable for a nap, I have no idea, but he sure was sleeping soundly.

One of my recent Facebook status' read thus:

"1. I feel like my son is huge! He's grown so much already. I know, I know, you'll all say it just keeps going faster!

2. I wonder if I'll have a status update that doesn't involve something Mommy-related any time soon?"

After all the comments about how my status' would all be Mommy-related, I made sure to post this one:

"Cleaned the bathroom, made the bed, took a shower, went to the library, AND am doing a little online grading today. Is it prideful to be impressed with myself?"

Of course, if we're being honest here, well, it's only impressive that I did all those things today because  I'm the mommy of a 5-week old baby. 

See, what I'm realizing is that I've entered the next phase of my life, Motherhood, where everything is different than it was before.   Everything comes back to being a mom, it seems.  I want to be a better blogger (for various reasons) and have one of those blogs that is a fun mix of who I am - stories about things that happened, ways God is teaching me, random posts about clothes and decor and fun things- but all I can come up with these days seems to be Mommy-things.  (Of course, finding time to blog is also challenging.  Typing with a baby in your arms is a skill I have not yet mastered.) 

It's the same when I Skype with my bestest friend Brooke, who is currently living in Korea.  She gets to tell me all sorts of her adventures about people and places.  What do I do all day?  Hold the baby, change the baby's diaper, feed the baby, comfort the  baby, play with the baby.  Repeat.  "Today he spit up five times!"  Not exactly newsworthy, folks.

But it's who I am, now.  In an instant (okay, after 9 months of pregnancy and 10 hours of labor), I am a mom.  I can't just run to the store if I need something - I have to load up Will.  Go to a movie?  Haven't figured out how to do that yet.  Want to read others' blog posts?  That's not usually the most important use of his naptime. 

When it's time to go back to school in the fall, I'm not going to want to stay there late, I'm going to want to go pick up my little boy and spend the evening with him.  Nor will I want to grade papers, I imagine.  Sick days (which I never take) will now be taken when I need to be home with a little guy who isn't feeling so well.  I'll be thinking about those big blue (or whatever color they turn out to be) eyes all day, and waiting to see that sweet little smile.

I'll be (I already am) a little more of a worrier than I've ever been before, because I'm responsible for him, for his health, his well-being, his spiritual development, his education.  I care about school districts and safety and college funds.  I'll do price comparisons on baby items and do research about what products are best.  I'll think about making my own baby food to save money.  I read to him already, whatever I'm reading, and soon we'll start with books of his own.  I'll speak Spanish to him so he can learn it early, and leave the English for when we're with his daddy.  We'll do a baby dedication at church, and I will continue praying and praying for him, every day.

I've always been a daughter - to my parents, for 30 years.  To my Father, a few less.  A reader for 25 years, a student my whole life.  A big sister for 24 years. A jogger for 13 years, a coffee drinker for 15. A wife for nearly 4.  A Spanish-speaker for 16 years, a teacher for 8. These are the roles I play, among others. 

But now, well, now I've added a new role, and I'm pretty sure it's one of the important roles I'll ever have.  It's a nerve-wracking, joy-filling, fear-creating, awe-inspiring role.  Being a mom is forever.  I'll be his mom when he gets his first tooth, on his first day of school, at his high school graduation.  When my son is grown and having his own children, I'll still be his mother.  I'll be his mother until the day I die.

So I guess it's okay if that's all I have to talk about these days, because it's kind of a big deal, you know.  Someday (and maybe sooner than later), I'll blog about something else, but for now, this is where I'm at, spending most of my time learning how to be the best mommy I can be to my sweet Peanut.

I'm a diaper-changer, a colic-comforter, a tear-drier, a rock-as-we-walk-er, a cozy-cuddler, a sit-and-stare-er, a baby-talking Spanish-speaker, a play-whenever-he's-awake-er, a 24-hour-a-day-diner.

I'm a mom.

One Month

How quickly time flies when you are a new mom, wouldn't you agree?  (Although I would also contend that time moves very slowly somtimes, when your routine consists of feeding the baby, changing the baby, calming the baby.)

This week Will celebrated his One-Month Birthday!  It was on Tuesday, when he was exactly four weeks and three days old. 

Wide awake and looking out the window the other morning as we lazed around in bed for a bit.

I can't believe our little guy is already a month old, and I confess to crying at the thought that he's going to grow up and not want to cuddle me any more.  I may be jumping the gun, but hey, I blame all of you moms who keep telling me to "enjoy this time while it lasts, because it's going to be over before you know it." 

Anyway, thought you'd all be interested in a few details about the Peanut.

Size: According to the doctor on Monday, Will weighed about 9 lbs, 5 oz, a significant increase from his birth weight of 6 lbs, 14 oz.  While somehow his new weight is still only the 37% percentile, his birth weight was apparently in the 18% percentile.  So he's growing at a very healthy weight. I think he's a big boy, but Husband keeps reminding me that when he was born, he weighed 9+ lbs to start.  Fair enough.  Will's also nearly 22 inches long.  He can still wear most of his newborn clothes, but this week we started to break out some of the 0-3 month outfits. 

With his Tia (aunt) on her birthday - we stopped by her 1st grade class for a quick visit.

Development: In the last week we've seen huge changes (I mean, we see changes every day).  He's holding his head up for long periods of time (you know, several seconds), he's awake more and more, and very alert.  I absolutely adore watching him take the world in, his eyes wide open and blue as he absorbs it all.  He's strong - so strong- and loves grabbing things.  I'd say he's quite amazing, thank you very much.  He's also very vocal, making all sorts of sounds and noises all the time.  We can't wait for the babbling stage - it will be interesting to see what he comes up with!  I'm also very proud of him as he's started to learn to self-soothe and doesn't seem to need to scream or cry as much or as often.  (Granted, he still does that at times.)

Personality: I think he might be a little strong-willed, like his Mama.  But we'll see.  He's content more and more, but he still is pretty fussy about anything he thinks is bothering him.  Normal, I think. 

Eating: We're still eating about every 2 - 3 hours a day and night.  I'm breast-feeding him, which is going well most of the time, although I do worry about whether or not he's getting enough.  But based on his weight gain, he is... so we'll just hope that continues.  He also takes the bottle like a champ.  No nipple-confusion for this boy - he'll switch between breast and bottle and pacifier with no problem at all, and has done so right from the start.  Most days we give him either one pumped bottle or one supplemental formula bottle, so Husband or Sister or someone else can have a turn. 

Sleeping on his Nonna - we liked how it looked like he was hugging her.

Sleep: As I mentioned, he's sleeping less during the day than before, but he's still enjoying quite a few long naps during the day (like right now).  Night time has been going better, in my opinion.  He wakes up between 2 and a half to 3 hours to eat, which for some still sounds frequent, but he goes back to bed right away (usually) with very little effort.  He's sleeping in the pack and play in our room still, but we're doing a good job not picking him up at every little sound, and he's doing a great job self-soothing.

Likes/Dislikes: He loves being held, especially by his Nonna.  He loves his pacifier, being swaddled to sleep at night, and apparently, sound machines or other noises like that.  He's content in his carseat, especially, if we're on a walk, but he only likes the swing or the bouncy seat when he's in the right mood, and only for a little while.  He doesn't seem to care either way about Ginny (who also seems indifferent to him at this point).  He dislikes gas, pooping, me taking too long to get situated to feed him, being put down when he wants to be held, and various other standard baby things.

Milestones: Everything feels like a milestone right now.  No two days are alike, and he's different every day.  I would say he's smiling more often, and it seems completely unrelated to gas.  Don't burst my bubble, people.  I love his little smile.  And he's beginning to "talk" more than just cry.  He does great in public - we've gone out to eat several times (although always only in noisy restaurants) and to school a few times, and he's fantastic.  Next step, maybe a movie this weekend.  We'll see how it goes.

Going on our first walk in the stroller.

Moms, just tell me, how do I capture every sweet moment in my memory?  If each month goes as fast as this first one, I'll be back to work full time before I know it.

12 Hours That Changed My Life: Part 2

If you missed part 1 of the story (or you want to read the whole thing at once), go here first.


Finally. "One or two more like that and I can call the doctor in," encouraged Jessica. Push, push, push. The doctor, a new one I'd never met before, came in. Push, push, push. The same words. "Like that first one. Again." The minutes ticked by. "I can't tell what direction the baby is facing," said the nurse. "His heart rate dropped for a few minutes a while ago, but it went back up." Push more, Beth. Did you hear that? The Peanut needs you.

He was about to come, the doctor said, and she needed to do an episiotomy. Fine, I nodded. We just need to do this. Push, push, push, and there he was. "Oh, that explains it. He's sunny side up." Such a simple statement to explain such a long, stressful experience. The excruciating pain earlier in the morning? Back labor, thank you very much. My furious five hours of pushing? He was face up, of course. "If we'd known that, we might have done something else hours ago." Oh, thank you for telling me.

A flurry of activity. The Peanut wrapped up and on my chest, Husband standing right next to us, a huge, purple bruise covering Peanut's whole forehead. The doctor examining me, the placenta being delivered.

I cried partly because he was here and I was happy, and partly because it was over. At 10:00 am exactly, it was over. And I was so relieved. Pictures of our new family.

Baby and Husband went to the little "baby station" with the nurse while the doctor still worked on me. "Do you know what a tear is?" she asked? "You have about a 3 and half degree one. That means it didn't go all the way from the vagina to the rectum, but close. I'm going to have to stitch you up. Then, "Is she on medication?" to the nurse. "No, she's off right now." "Beth, push that button right next to you. Push it again," said the doctor, telling me to dose myself with a little medication through the epidural. (Educational moment for me - I didn't realize exactly how it worked before then. The catheter was in the epidural area of my spine, but the pump with the meds had been turned off so I could feel to push. The button worked just like you see in the movies.)

I was paying attention to the doctor and the nurse as they worked on me and trying to pay attention to what was going on with Husband and the baby over in the other part of the room. Wincing as she sewed, trying not to cry, asking Husband questions about the baby. "He's 19 inches long, and 6 lbs, 15 oz."

The doctor was showing the nurse a different technique for some certain type of stitch. "I appreciate a teaching and learning environment," I thought. Then my two men were both back at my side as the doctor finished up. "He's just fine," said the pediatric nurse about the baby. "There doesn't appear to be any damage, despite the bruising on his forehead." Relief. Then nausea and light-headedness. "I think I'm going to be pass out or be sick," I told Jessica. "I feel faint." Juice and some trail mix. My color returned a little, and I felt less light-headed.  We hadn't eaten since 5:30 the night before.


Cleaning up, putting things away, and eventually the doctor was gone. Still sipping on juice, holding my baby. Husband's parents and sister came in, along with my sister. I held in the tears. I probably would have bawled had it just been Sister, truthfully. They oohed and ahed over the Peanut, over Will. Sister asked how I was doing. "I'll tell you about it later. It was hard."

They left, Husband going to find something to eat as Jessica helped me try to nurse for the first time. Quiet. Blessed quiet, with this small, tiny baby at my breast. Unbelievable, beautiful.


Eventually Husband took the Peanut to the nursery for some tests, shots, and his first bath. More juice and food for me as I tried to rest. My parents arrived with lunch in hand, my mom's first concern for me and me alone. The Mama Bear in her re-surfaced big time, her first priority to protect and take care of me. Jessica came with the wheel chair to take me to my post-partum room, and Husband followed behind with our baby - our baby!- in the bassinet.


Finally, settled into our room, the room where we'd spend the next couple of days, learning how to feed my son, trying to get some rest, healing, seeing family. Nurses in and nurses out. Tanya, my favorite and most helpful post-partum nurse. Bridget, our overly talkative night nurse who treated me like a celebrity. Comments from everyone I met. "We were here when you were in labor. We kept waiting to hear you were going in for the C-Section. We can't believe how much of that you did without medication. You're such a rock star." It was therapeutic, my "I failed" mentality slowly being replaced with the affirmation that I had not, in fact, failed, and that instead, I had done well.

The Peanut was here, our William John, after a long night of hard work, and after many months of praying. We were tired - no, exhausted -, and we were in awe. Our teeny tiny baby was with us, snuggled in our arms, relying completely on us.

Resposibility, and Joy. Still the two overwhelming emotions, but beautiful, amazing emotions.

Welcome, Peanut, baby Will.

12 Hours That Changed My Life: Part 1

Wednesday night and Thursday night were Parent-Teacher Conferences.  I sat, 38 nearly 39 weeks pregnant, in the gymnasium with all my colleagues, talking with parents about their students and what they could do to either stay strong or to improve during 4th quarter.  Of course, I wasn't going to be there for 4th quarter, but I still gave the advice anyway.  And, of course, there were many conversations about parenting and having babies.  "Are you ready?" they always asked.  "Well, I'd really like a few days of Spring Break, you know, to have a transition between school and mommy-hood."  Heads nodded in understanding. 

Me about a month before Will's arrival.  Turns out I have no pictures of me after this.

Friday was my day off.  The kick off to Spring Break, there was no school since we'd worked the two previous evenings.  I had two items on my agenda - coffee with a friend who was in town, and a trip to the library.  I knew I probably should do some work for my online class, but I was going to give myself a day off from thinking about school.  After my trip to the library, I considered a stop at Target to buy some baby-is-coming-soon essentials, like a nursing bra, but thought, "no, I'll go tomorrow.  I'm worn out from the week, from getting ready to leave school for the rest of the semester, from being huge.  I'm going to go home and read."  So home I went, and I read. 

It was a small group evening, so husband and I headed over to our friends' house and spent the evening there.  We broke into guys and girls groups to hear prayer requests.  Mine, of course, was primarily for a healthy and safe delivery.  We meet every two weeks as a group, and, with my due date a week away, we were all hoping that by the next small group, I'd have the Peanut.  I joked about wondering if I'd even know when I was in labor.  How are you supposed to know what it feels like when you've never done it?  "Oh, you'll know," was always the response.  They prayed for me and for the Peanut right then and there, and then later the guys and the girls were back together for some Bible study.  Later we all headed home, with well wishes for our delivery and a question on how they would know it was time.  "Oh, Husband will text you - if it says "Autobots, Let's Roll," that means it's time."  (Followed by an explanation of the Transformers.)

It was about 10:45, and Husband and I were sitting on our bed as we unwound for the evening, sharing our thoughts about small group, with him rubbing my back.  Suddenly a sensation I'd never experienced before.

"I'm peeing my pants!" I screeched as I leapt off the bed and raced to the bathroom.  "I think maybe my water just broke..." I announced to Husband as I sat on the toilet, trying to figure out if that was what had happened or not.  Certainly I didn't actually pee my pants, right?  Surely I had more control than that?  But it was so weird, and not what I expected, so could it actually be my water breaking?  And I had expected contractions first.  This wasn't labor, was it? I  felt perfectly normal, except for the whole peeing-of-the-pants thing. 

At the mention of the words "water breaking," Husband was up and throwing things into bags right and left.  We'd talked about what we'd take to the hospital, but we hadn't actually packed yet.  "I'm not even sure this it," I protested.  It didn't matter, he thought.  We needed to go to the hospital to check it out, just in case.  So I changed clothes (obviously) and helped pack the bags for the hospital, "just in case." 

Poor confused Ginny went to her room (her crate), and we got in the truck and drove the less-than-ten minutes to the hospital, it now being about 11:30.  Entering through the ER doors due to the late hour, we told the person at the desk we thought I might be in labor and she pointed us in the direction of the elevators.  When you get to the right floor, you have to ring this little doorbell and wait for admission, since the whole maternity floor is secure.  Once we'd gotten buzzed in, I told the nurse at the station the same thing.  "I think my water may have broken, but I'm not really sure."

We stood there for several minutes, starting to fill out paperwork I thought I'd already filled out at our pre-admit session, just to be told that yes, I had filled that out already, so I could stop.  They took us back to the triage session, told me to urinate in the cup and put the gown on, and then we'd take a look and see what was going on.  "Don't text people yet," I told Husband.  "We're not even sure what's happening." 

Once changed and on the table, the nurse, named Cassie, checked me out.  "Yes, you've ruptured.  You're at about 4 cm dilated," she told us.  "We'll get you checked into your birthing room."   I looked at Husband.  "Okay, now you can send the message."  I called my parents, it now being about midnight.  Both my mom and sister answered, groggy with sleep.  "My water broke and we're at the hospital.  Go back to bed, we'll call when something is really happening."  (As if they could go to sleep, Mom later told me.  But they tried.)

We moved over to my birthing room and decided to try to get some rest.  After all, I hadn't even had one contraction yet.  It took a while to get settled, with Cassie getting me hooked up to all the machines and going over what the process would/could look like for me.  Patiently, calmly, she answered all my questions, and then said she'd be back to check on me in a bit, but to call if I needed anything. 

The sign in our birth room.  We got a kick out of the room number and the date nearly matching.

I think we rested (and I use that term lightly) for about half an hour before the contractions hit, and hit in full force.  Forget easing your way into them, I don't apparently roll that way.  Husband was the man, holding my hand, standing beside me, helping me breathe and trying different positions with me.  After a while, though, I started to panic.  I was exhausted.  I had lost the night's sleep, and I become an emotional disaster area on a normal day when I'm over-tired.  So to be in labor and that tired, well I knew I was in trouble, and though a normally calm-in-stressful-situations person, I was in a panic.  We decided to try an IV medication to take the edge off.  I wouldn't normally, I said.  But it was just that I was so tired, justifying why I was breaking my "no meds" rule.

It helped.  I was able to get some good rest... for maybe 45 minutes.  And then the edge was no longer off, despite the fact that the medication should be working.  I was miserable.  We tried everything, all sorts of positions, breathing.  I could still have an epidural, Cassie thought, although she'd have to see how dilated I was.  Torturous, this thought.  My mom and best friend were pretty anti-epidural, and I really wanted to do this without one.  I didn't want to disappoint them, or myself.  Getting an epidural would be like failing. 

But it was excruciating.  "I can't do this," I kept crying to Husband, even as we were "dancing" trying to ease the pain.  I gave in.  I was 8 cm dilated, so it was now or never.   It was unbearable waiting for the anaesthesologist.  Couldn't he hurry up, I kept thinking.  After an eternity, relief.  It was just nearing 4 in the morning.

I slept.  The blissful, comatose sleep of a woman on drugs.  And at 5, Cassie checked and said we were ready.  So the pushing began.  I couldn't feel my contractions, so I relied on her to tell me when to push.  It wasn't working.  He wasn't progressing.  "Let's take a break and let you labor down for a while," Cassie suggested.  We'd called our family to say we were pushing, because my sister and Husand's family wanted to be in the waiting room when Peanut was born.  My sister came in and fixed my pony tail for me and we chatted.  Everything was just fine, although I told her I was afraid to tell Mom I'd had an epidural.  I didn't want her to be disappointed.  Sister understood, although we both knew Mom would never be disappointed over something like that.  It was more me.   Half an hour later.   Time to try again.  They turned off the epidural, because I needed to be able to feel what was going on.

But I couldn't push right, it seemed.  My first attempt would be great - "yes do that again," Cassie would say.  And I would try, but apparently I wasn't getting it.  All sorts of coaching on what to do, where to push, how to push.  Yet it wasn't working.  Failure again.  Perhaps it was because I'd had the epidural that I was having so much trouble, I thought.  I was ashamed of my weakness.

7 am.  Shift change.  We'd thought, when we were ready to push at 5, that we'd make it with the same nurse.  But no.  Cassie said goodbye, and Jessica came in.  Jessica had me try all sorts of different pushing positions.  Husband was still standing right by me, holding me, helping me, being involved.  He was freezing, had had no sleep either, and nothing to eat.   We were just disaster areas.  The same comments.  "Do it that way again."  A sigh that seemed disappointed when my next push wasn't the same.  Absolute failure, I thought.  I told Jessica so.  "I'm a bit type A here, so this feels like I'm totally failing." 

9 am.  Still pushing.  Progress had been made.  They could see his head occasionally.  Apparently he looked like he had no hair... but of course, it could have all just rubbed off by then.  It was the longest hour of my life.  The clock, right in front of me.  Minutes ticked by so slowly.  Had it really only been five minutes?  It felt like an eternity.  Exhausted.  Freezing.  Hot.  Push, push, push.  I can do another.  I have to keep going.  "Don't fall asleep," said Husband between sets.  "I'm not.... okay, I am totally falling asleep."  The longest hour of my life.  Minutes ticked by so slowly, the clock staring me in the face.  9:05.  9:07.  9:11.  What felt like hours between each minute.  And still, "try it like that again.  No, like you did before. I need you to push like you just did."  Failure, failure, failure.  "Maybe it's the epidural," I thought.  "I shouldn't have had it, I knew it.  I did this."


Read the rest of the story here.

Midweek Confessions: On Being a Mom for the First Week

This is THE perfect Wednesday for me to join in with Midweek Confessions again.  I mean, it, perfect.  For I have lots to confess, what with being a mom for a grand total of less than two weeks.  Those of you more experienced moms who might stumble upon this, well, advice given with good intention is welcome, I think.

- I just let my 11 day old son sit in his car seat on the kitchen counter and scream for minutes before going and picking him up.  I'd put him in there because I don't have a sling or any other place to put him on our main floor yet and I needed to fix myself something to eat.  I left him there because he started to fall asleep, and we're struggling with sleeping anywhere but in someone's arms.  Rather than take him to his crib, which would totally disturb him and the screaming would begin, I left him there.  It worked for about 5 minutes.  Then the whimper.  "Maybe he'll self-soothe.  We need to not pick him up at the first sign of a cry," I thought.  Then the slightly more persistent cry.  "No, he still might go back to sleep.  Just wait.  Get the computer out, I want to blog."  The soft wail.  "I'm ignoring you - I think you might still make it, although probably not."  Finally, the scream.  "Well, maybe he'll get tired of that and go back to sleep."  Ummm.  Nope.  Pick him up - and the crying instantly stops.  He must have tired himself out, though, because I have him sitting in the boppy on the couch next to me, and he's sleeping there.

- He looks adorable, sleeping there.  I almost forget he's been screaming.  Almost.

- I may have let him sleep in the boppy in the bed last night with us.  All night.  Yup, I might have.  See, we have a pack and play in our room that has this nice little newborn bassinet attachment.  Up until two nights ago, this was working out great.  We would get up, eat, walk or rock for a minute, and go back to sleep.  He went from waking up once between feedings to sleeping from one to the next.  He went from needing a 10 minute rock and walk to a 3 or 4 minute one, and sometimes less.  Sunday night, though, it started to change.  He slept great between feedings, but he took a long time to fall alseep again.  Monday night, the same thing, but worse.  Lay him down, a whimper, a cry, a wail, a scream.  I took to sleeping with my head at the end of the bed so I could try rubbing his belly and shushing without picking him up.  Failure.  Last night, Husband had him asleep in his arms for an hour so I could get some rest, and the moment he put him down, straight to the scream.  I tried for another hour. And then I quit.  I put the boppy in the middle of the bed, and slept with my arm under him as if I were still holding him.  And we stayed that way the rest of the night.  I didn't even bother trying again.

- I put him in the bouncer outside the shower this morning so I could take one.  It gave him hiccups and he couldn't get rid of them the entire time he was in there.

- I've cried nearly every day at least a little.  Sometimes out of tiredness (that was big at the beginning of the experience), sometimes out of frustration (not usually at him, but at others), sometimes out of sadness when he's crying so hard, sometimes from being overwhelmed as I look at his sweet face and feel the heaviness and joy of responsibility for his life.

- Poor little baby has gas a lot and I can't figure out if it's something I'm eating or if it's a phase he's going through.  I hate to use the word "colic," because I think we jump there too fast with babies.  But he definitely has gas and it definitely bothers him.  And I want to make it all better and haven't the foggiest how, but am working on it.

- On a more positive note, I just want to kiss his sweet little cheeks all the time.  I love it when he looks up at me with his big currently-dark blue eyes and his mouth forms a perfect little "o," as he takes it all in.  I love snuggling and rocking and cuddling with him, and could stare at him for hours.  I climbed in the backseat the other day while Husband ran into the store for something and just put my head on his carseat, watching him sleep.  I'm in awe of how powerful his tiny little grip is and how forcefully his little legs can kick.  I want him to be healthy and happy and safe, and I've never felt more strongly about making that happen for anyone than I do for him.  I've said all along, I'm not a mushy person, and I mean it, but this little man, the Peanut, is about as close as I can get.   But it's not just mushy love and adoration of him.  There's a fierceness I feel, a protectiveness. 

Welcome to motherhood, you might say.  A plethora of emotions, roles, and experiences.

Announcing.....

William John C

little Will

Born: Saturday, May 24, 2012 at 10 am

Weight: 6 lbs, 15 ounces

Length: 19 inches

More to come soon.  Can't wait to share Will's Birth Story and the tales of surviving the first week of Mommy-hood.  But right now, I need to hang out with the Peanut, because he's finally here!

Last Day

Today is my last day of work for the school year.  I've made it through to Spring Break (well, almost - I have two more classes to teach and 3 hours of Parent/Teacher Conferneces to sit through), and since our due date is in nine days, I'm done.

It's bittersweet. 

I LOVE my job.  I think I've mentioned before that I'm one of those blessed and apparently rare people that loves what they do almost all of the time.  Teaching high school students, while hard at times, is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done, and will ever do.  I learn so much from them, perhaps more than they do from me, and while yes, there are those ding dongs that are obnoxious, entitled, and idiotic, there are so many of them that are going somewhere good, and give me hope. 

We laugh together, we cry together, we play together, we work together.  We learn together.  We live life together.  My classes are like family, especially this year.

And so, while I eagerly (terrifiedly and nervously and excitedly and joyfully) anticipate what's coming next over the next few weeks, this is hard, and bittersweet.

Have you ever noticed the intentionality of the word bittersweet?

What comes first is bitter, harder to deal with, sad.  But what follows is sweet, joyful, full of goodness.

Leaving these kids is weird.  "Have a good Spring Break.  When we come back - I mean, when you come back - you'll do these things...."  These particular classes are not over forever, like the awkward goodbye after the final exam period at the end of the semester.  They'll continue.... but without me.  It's weird, and it's a little hard.  Bitter.

But next?  Next comes the Peanut.  And after the (again) hard part, I'll have this little boy in my arms that I am sure I am going to love even more than I love my job, dependent on me, loving me without even thinking about it.  And it's amazing.  Sweet.

Bittersweet.  What a good word.

A Sneak Peek...

Thirteen days until the Peanut's Due Date

Four more days of work

(thank goodness for Spring Break!)

8 hours of Parent/Teacher Conferences

Several more work things to do if possible

As many hours to sleep as I can fit in

A few more things to dust and vacuum

Some quality friend and family time if possible

Many hours spent pondering and praying about motherhood

and

An unknown amount of time until all my lists become irrelvant

and it simply becomes time to Go.

Oh, Hello.

Each day this week I've said, "I'll blog today.  I'll do it during/after/when I ____________________."  But each day has found itself full of something.  The times I planned to blog were usurped by other things I needed to do, or in the evening, when I could have blogged, the effort to turn on the computer from my crashed out position on the couch seemed herculean.  As a result, no posts.

But today is Friday, and if you can't procrastinate a little during your planning period on Friday (yes, even if you are going to be leaving for maternity leave soon and have a million things to do), when can you procrastinate?

So, hello.

I have my Decaf Caramel Macchiato in hand (we were all out of coffee at home - I seriously need to do the grocery shopping - we ate out all week, too), and thought I'd share 9 things about life with you on this 9th day of March.

1. We're in the month of our due date (the 31st, so really, it could be March or April.)  Officially, I'll be working for two more weeks as of yesterday.  We don't have school on the 23rd and the following week is Spring Break, so there are exactly 10 more days of work for me, including today.  My feelings on that subject are incredibly diverse - I'm excited, sad, a bit nervous, busy.... and more.

2. Last week was Sadie's Week (our second semester version of Homecoming Week).  We had spirit days, a Peach Fuzz Boys Volleyball Tournament, a huge assembly complete with decorations, a Mr. PC competition, and, of course, the big dance itself.  In all, I spent approximately 25 hours at school AFTER school between Thursday night - Saturday night.  Needless to say, I stayed in bed on Sunday.  But the week was great, my StuCo kids were awesome, and we had a T.O.N. of fun.

3. We just mostly finished decorating our baby room the other night - I'm pretty excited about it.  I'm going to gather the best pictures that document each stage of the process (from scraping the popcorn off the ceiling to hanging the final piece on the wall) and show you in a post soon.  Until then, while you wait, I'll just say this - browns, greens, monkeys... C.U.T.E.

4.  I had two baby showers back-to-back the weekend before last.  Both were very lovely, and Husband, Baby C, and I were completely blessed.  I've spread out some of my favorite pictures from both throughout this post.

5. I am ridiculously excited for tomorrow.  I'm planning on spending some time with my sister as I drag her (I mean, as she comes with me) to get a haircut - I desperately need one as my hair looks good about 1% of the time - and to a few more to get a few more things with the generous gift cards we received.  I think this will be my last "big" shopping trip before Baby C comes.  Anything else will be things I didn't know I needed or incidentals.  I'm also planning on cooking a few things to put in the freezer to make life a little easier (plus, I'm sick of take-out).  And, if all that goes well, I'm going to clean the bathroom.  It's just plain gross. 

6. I may or may not be planning Words with Friends with several people, but, due to the fact that I don't have time to really think about the words I'm playing, losing horribly.  I'm also playing Scramble, but only with random opponents, because I'm so bad at it, I don't want my friends to know.

7. I love my state.  It was warm and sunny for the first few days this week (although I didn't get to really enjoy that as I was inside all day), then cold and windy (and I mean cold) the last two days, and today is back to sunny and the weekend is supposed to be lovely.  I never want to live somewhere where it's always one way or another.  This way you get a little bit of everything whenever you might need it.

8. I'm still obsessed with how freaking cute my dog is.  Seriously, I love her probably a little two much.  We're totally spoiling her right now since we think her little world is going to be rocked in the near future.

9.  I've got some thoughts rolling around in here about some big God stuff, and the things I've been learning, continuing to learn, being beat over the head with, etc.  That's a whole different post worth of things, but the bottom line is, it's pretty amazing seeking relationship and knowing it's a mutual, real, tangible, life-changing thing, not just some mystical band-aid.  More on my heart soon, I hope.


My hope is to be able to blog a little more consistently - it's good for me, as long as I keep myself out of the land of "no one likes me/follows me/comments on my posts" - but since I'm taking each day a a day at a time these days, we'll see.

For now, Happy Friday!