Never did I think that I wouldn't care about having vomit on me but now I understand that when it's YOUR kid it really doesn't matter when you know they don't feel good. I'll willingly take the hit. I'm a mom.
Hank gave us the full run down of liquids that can literally blow out of a little body last week. For a body so small, they pack quite a psi. Pee hitting your hard wood floor can sound like you've pointed a hose up in the air and let the water hit the pavement. And I actually laugh when it's just pee that I get on my hand; it seems to be the least of the liquids compared to the smelly or gooey ones.
But he has GI issues due to a reaction to cow milk protein expressed in my milk - not an uncommon problem but one that has a lot to endure to nail down. When he's screamed for two days straight and slept only in minute intervals it's hard to concentrate on any symptom in particular but I think we got it now. I'll have to restrict dairy from my diet and that's tough when you're already a vegetarian - oof.
AND I CAN LEAVE THE HOUSE NOW!! YEAH!!! I have to scream that since I have been tied to the house without Gary's help for 3 days. This really thrust motherhood on me but I made it... and he made it. And excellent words of wisdom and encouragement from Julie and other mothers that have been there done that and probably roll their eyes listening to me blather on knowing that this is relatively easy compared to what's to come ;D
From now on I vow to be more compassionate and thought forward. A mere 4 weeks has changed me profoundly as I remember not realizing what friends were going through and not being as much help as I could have been. I'd always heard that some days all you want is a shower or breakfast and now I KNOW that all I want is a shower and breakfast before noon - and that's being generous. I have journied into a new realm of respect for friends and mothers.
So, my boss ( who is a great guy BTW) asked me with great sincerity when I spoke about being a stay at home mom or part time work "So, what will you do with your time if you don't work?" OMG - if I'd had half a brain at that moment I would've said care for my kid! Where is all this "time" you speak of?? I have no knowledge of this "time"...
Speaking of time I witnessed how the passage of time changes people. BabyDaddy and I went to a small car event over the weekend and took Hank to his first car show! As he walked around carrying Hank, men came over and just gazed at him and his little feet poking out of the blanket. Almost every one of them told Gary that they remember their babies and that this one will be driving soon. Several of them had their teenage kids with them and you could just see their eyes go back in time to the most beautiful creature they had ever seen. Men love their babies even if they do things a little different and I hope I give Gary the freedom to be a Daddy.
Oh wait, I think I do that when I quickly hand Hank over to him right as he walks in the door from work...is that a bad thing??!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Singin' Songs and Stuff
Now that I have all that serious stuff written down I can start writing the fun stuff!
It's only been 3 weeks and I'm already amassing a repertoire of funny stories about my kid. His personality is peeking out and giving me little glimpses of what's in store for us later - and it's scary as hell! LOL
And he's making sure that I have plenty of ammo on him when he's in his teens and totally embarrassed to be with me. He'd better be careful or I'll tell the cute little stories about projectile poop or why he wasn't circumcised for a little while - kudos to Daddy he's little on the large side. Hey, don't look at me that's what the Dr. said!?
Poor Daddy has had to endure a lot so far. I was rocking him to sleep in our bed and out came a huge fountain of milk that splashed against Gary's naked back! I called it payback since he was the only member of the family that was actually sleeping at 3:45 am. Sympathy was hard to find at that hour so I stifled my evil giggle. heehee
Hank doesn't like pacifiers. He's a man holding out for the real deal. Commendable but annoying for Mommy. VERY early one morning I was just slightly trying to shove it in his mouth when he closed his eyes, pursed his lips together and lifted his brows as if to say "you can't force it so forget it and I don't care who you are". He was barely 2 wks old and I quickly realized what I'm dealing with here - a baby that knows exactly who he is, what he wants and how to get it. Great.
I do have to write about the time he smelled like BO. I only bathe him every other day cuz he doesn't get dirty really and it can dry his skin out but on the morning I was taking him to be circumcised I was feeding him and caught a strange whiff. Confused I investigated further. OK, now I know BO can't be possible on a baby but my kid's head smelled like onions! Wut tha? Come to find out he had slept in daddy's arm pit overnight and picked up his um...scent. Gasp! It was like he'd been marked or something. How many wipes did I have to use to get rid of that - only 2 but dang don't stink up my baby!
And the songs I can make up now - oh geez....but what rhymes with Hank? All I could think of was skank so I don't make up songs with his name. But I do my normal word replacement songs. So far it's Cheap Trick " I Want You to Want Me" changed to "I Want You to Hold Me" and Little River Band "Lady" changed to "Baby". And for some strange reason I started humming the guitar riff for Smoke on the Water to him....I don't know where that came from...
Unfortunately, there have been a couple of times that I lost my patience. Hank was fussy for hours and hours and hours and over tired and i lost it about 10:30pm. I was "touched out" meaning that I was tired of being touched since I am feeding every 2 hours and if he's fussy he wants to sit on me constantly. Both of which I could handle if he wasn't crying and I had more than 3 hours sleep. I rolled him off of me into Gary's arms and left the room. Mother's guilt slapped me in the face and I really felt bad because he's a sweet, wonderful baby boy and I love him. I have so much growing to do Hank so just be patient!
When he left the hospital Hank weighed 6lbs 11oz. At 3 wks and 2 days old this little joker weighs 9lbs 12oz!! And he's LONG, good lord, but just starting to get a double chin and cute little fat rolls. But he is by no means a fat baby just big and healthy and the reason my Dad coined the nickname for me of Swiss Miss - yep, they are big and productive. After a birth like he had, I'm just happy something natural is working right ;D
Doh, he's a callin' for me...gotta run!
It's only been 3 weeks and I'm already amassing a repertoire of funny stories about my kid. His personality is peeking out and giving me little glimpses of what's in store for us later - and it's scary as hell! LOL
And he's making sure that I have plenty of ammo on him when he's in his teens and totally embarrassed to be with me. He'd better be careful or I'll tell the cute little stories about projectile poop or why he wasn't circumcised for a little while - kudos to Daddy he's little on the large side. Hey, don't look at me that's what the Dr. said!?
Poor Daddy has had to endure a lot so far. I was rocking him to sleep in our bed and out came a huge fountain of milk that splashed against Gary's naked back! I called it payback since he was the only member of the family that was actually sleeping at 3:45 am. Sympathy was hard to find at that hour so I stifled my evil giggle. heehee
Hank doesn't like pacifiers. He's a man holding out for the real deal. Commendable but annoying for Mommy. VERY early one morning I was just slightly trying to shove it in his mouth when he closed his eyes, pursed his lips together and lifted his brows as if to say "you can't force it so forget it and I don't care who you are". He was barely 2 wks old and I quickly realized what I'm dealing with here - a baby that knows exactly who he is, what he wants and how to get it. Great.
I do have to write about the time he smelled like BO. I only bathe him every other day cuz he doesn't get dirty really and it can dry his skin out but on the morning I was taking him to be circumcised I was feeding him and caught a strange whiff. Confused I investigated further. OK, now I know BO can't be possible on a baby but my kid's head smelled like onions! Wut tha? Come to find out he had slept in daddy's arm pit overnight and picked up his um...scent. Gasp! It was like he'd been marked or something. How many wipes did I have to use to get rid of that - only 2 but dang don't stink up my baby!
And the songs I can make up now - oh geez....but what rhymes with Hank? All I could think of was skank so I don't make up songs with his name. But I do my normal word replacement songs. So far it's Cheap Trick " I Want You to Want Me" changed to "I Want You to Hold Me" and Little River Band "Lady" changed to "Baby". And for some strange reason I started humming the guitar riff for Smoke on the Water to him....I don't know where that came from...
Unfortunately, there have been a couple of times that I lost my patience. Hank was fussy for hours and hours and hours and over tired and i lost it about 10:30pm. I was "touched out" meaning that I was tired of being touched since I am feeding every 2 hours and if he's fussy he wants to sit on me constantly. Both of which I could handle if he wasn't crying and I had more than 3 hours sleep. I rolled him off of me into Gary's arms and left the room. Mother's guilt slapped me in the face and I really felt bad because he's a sweet, wonderful baby boy and I love him. I have so much growing to do Hank so just be patient!
When he left the hospital Hank weighed 6lbs 11oz. At 3 wks and 2 days old this little joker weighs 9lbs 12oz!! And he's LONG, good lord, but just starting to get a double chin and cute little fat rolls. But he is by no means a fat baby just big and healthy and the reason my Dad coined the nickname for me of Swiss Miss - yep, they are big and productive. After a birth like he had, I'm just happy something natural is working right ;D
Doh, he's a callin' for me...gotta run!
Letters to Hank
I've been thinking over the past couple of weeks that I have to start writing to my new boy,Hank, while I can - I collectively got 7 hours of sleep last night so my fingers are actually agile enough to type and my brain fog has slightly lifted for coherency.
A brief rundown of how Hank was born is definitely in order (for guilt purposes later in life, of course) I labored at home using self hypnosis as pain management for 26 hours - 3:30am May 4th until 5:30am May 5th. Instinctively, I knew to get to the hospital asap at 5:30 and you should have seen the rush to get me out the door! Looking back it was hilarious; not quite like what you see in the movies but almost as bumbling! Luckily, all my stuff was already in the car but getting all the PEOPLE in it was the challenge. My mom doing her hair and stepdad just kind of running around, Gary trying to group everyone together and think of everything last minute and finally Me not giving a damn what anyone was doing. By that time, I was in "just get there!" mode so I was almost running down my basement stairs, towels in hand!
We made it in record time with my awesome doula in tow - Micky had been at my house since 7pm helping guide me, time contractions and keep Gary awake. Contractions were not pain free but I was still handeling them tolorably well as I got checked in and partnered with my L&D nurse that specialized in natural deliveries. I can't believe this but I was 9cm dilated when I arrived @ Cenntennial - almost ready to begin pushing! WOW, I could've had my kid at home or at least in the next hour or so but it was not to be. Long story short, I would spend the next 10 hours trying to naturally deliver a baby that would not engage down and was positioned incorrectly. He kept negating every push by popping back up out of my pelvis ( or as i like to say just causing a ruckus right from the start!) FINALLY, my body and, most importantly, my mind gave out. Hypnobirthing is not made to last that long and I was in distress - I felt like I was screaming but everyone tells me I was not. Time for an epidural STAT but I was dehydrated and an IV was irrationally hard to put in ( i'll leave out the details on that since it was messy so I hear) but I didn't even feel the epidural go in considering what had been going on.
OK so I didn't know what I was missing cuz that epidural kicked in and man, oh man, I tried even harder to get that child out. This went on for 2 hours before I finally felt pain in my back to tell me that he was positioned wrong. My L&D nurse was absolutely amazing trying everything she could before realizing that he just wasn't coming down and suggested a c-section before the baby was distressed. Blessed be that he was fine through all this - it was ME that wasn't!
I couldn't wait any longer so that's how he got here, 37 hours later, and now I thank the medical community for basically saving me and my baby. Little Hank was born with a dent above his forehead from being shoved up against my bones.
I haven't mentioned Gary in all this - he was so wonderful and helped out so much being there every step of the way. His support spoke volumes. Only later did I find out that his worry and tears were there too as the latter stages came our way.
And here I sit with a squirming little guy and a poopy diaper --- gotta go!!
A brief rundown of how Hank was born is definitely in order (for guilt purposes later in life, of course) I labored at home using self hypnosis as pain management for 26 hours - 3:30am May 4th until 5:30am May 5th. Instinctively, I knew to get to the hospital asap at 5:30 and you should have seen the rush to get me out the door! Looking back it was hilarious; not quite like what you see in the movies but almost as bumbling! Luckily, all my stuff was already in the car but getting all the PEOPLE in it was the challenge. My mom doing her hair and stepdad just kind of running around, Gary trying to group everyone together and think of everything last minute and finally Me not giving a damn what anyone was doing. By that time, I was in "just get there!" mode so I was almost running down my basement stairs, towels in hand!
We made it in record time with my awesome doula in tow - Micky had been at my house since 7pm helping guide me, time contractions and keep Gary awake
OK so I didn't know what I was missing cuz that epidural kicked in and man, oh man, I tried even harder to get that child out. This went on for 2 hours before I finally felt pain in my back to tell me that he was positioned wrong. My L&D nurse was absolutely amazing trying everything she could before realizing that he just wasn't coming down and suggested a c-section before the baby was distressed. Blessed be that he was fine through all this - it was ME that wasn't!
I couldn't wait any longer so that's how he got here, 37 hours later, and now I thank the medical community for basically saving me and my baby. Little Hank was born with a dent above his forehead from being shoved up against my bones.
I haven't mentioned Gary in all this - he was so wonderful and helped out so much being there every step of the way. His support spoke volumes. Only later did I find out that his worry and tears were there too as the latter stages came our way.
And here I sit with a squirming little guy and a poopy diaper --- gotta go!!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
For Amber Waves of Guilt
If there is anything I can't stand it's asking someone to do a task for me that I am normally responsible for - even if I don't get it done in someone else's time frame or to their satisfaction, I still have a responsibility to do it. And I've slipped a bit during my "confinement" ( I just love that 16th century word) due to my body's response to this pregnancy, not my brain's.
With Gary working so much, like 2 jobs, and missing a lot of hours transporting me to Dr. appointments, attending doula appointments, birthing classes, church duties, doing finances, - I have this raging guilt that something like household management has gone out the window. It isn't for Gary's lack of trying - he has been doing an excellent job with what he has time for and without complaint. I seriously mean that. But it's killing me to have to ask for help with jobs that are more of a time imposition for him; jobs that are in of themselves time consuming and a real drag. Saying the words "I can't do it" just isn't easy. I slipped into a guilt funk the other day and with a good, long cry I hope I've admonished the urge to do something as nonsensical as risk my health just to do laundry. I have, in the past, seriously tried to summon a laundry genie to take over the duty so what's my problem?!
My problem is that my end of the marriage bargain is changing and I am lost like a fart in a whirlwind. I can't ask him to do any more for me. Gestation shouldn't be a full time job but, in my case, it now takes up my whole day. It has taken me 2 weeks to fully rest - from work duties, from swiffering the floors, from doing just one load of laundry, from just cleaning the bathroom this one time, from decatfurring the couch. And I normally do not keep a spotless house!? Seriously, there are small pockets of chaos that make our house comfy for us but a dirty bathroom or unchanged sheets isn't one of them.
Luckily, checking my social sites is considered resting :D and I've never wished so bad for a laptop - even a decrepit one!
So, what will I be doing after this munchkin is born? I can't even venture to answer. But I do see a serious, and maybe a little painful, restructure of our household. This is one of those things that you rationally know but you don't really KNOW until the day you go " Oh, yeah...." and crinkle your nose up. But we have to do it, just like everyone else in the world that we originally thought we would never be like HA!
But in the meantime, "Be the queen you are" is how my Dr. put bed rest. That's just not me since I think I have to earn what I get; nothing comes to me without work or management or SOMEthing. I'd make a terrible Queen and will always be a worker bee.
With Gary working so much, like 2 jobs, and missing a lot of hours transporting me to Dr. appointments, attending doula appointments, birthing classes, church duties, doing finances, - I have this raging guilt that something like household management has gone out the window. It isn't for Gary's lack of trying - he has been doing an excellent job with what he has time for and without complaint. I seriously mean that. But it's killing me to have to ask for help with jobs that are more of a time imposition for him; jobs that are in of themselves time consuming and a real drag. Saying the words "I can't do it" just isn't easy. I slipped into a guilt funk the other day and with a good, long cry I hope I've admonished the urge to do something as nonsensical as risk my health just to do laundry. I have, in the past, seriously tried to summon a laundry genie to take over the duty so what's my problem?!
My problem is that my end of the marriage bargain is changing and I am lost like a fart in a whirlwind. I can't ask him to do any more for me. Gestation shouldn't be a full time job but, in my case, it now takes up my whole day. It has taken me 2 weeks to fully rest - from work duties, from swiffering the floors, from doing just one load of laundry, from just cleaning the bathroom this one time, from decatfurring the couch. And I normally do not keep a spotless house!? Seriously, there are small pockets of chaos that make our house comfy for us but a dirty bathroom or unchanged sheets isn't one of them.
Luckily, checking my social sites is considered resting :D and I've never wished so bad for a laptop - even a decrepit one!
So, what will I be doing after this munchkin is born? I can't even venture to answer. But I do see a serious, and maybe a little painful, restructure of our household. This is one of those things that you rationally know but you don't really KNOW until the day you go " Oh, yeah...." and crinkle your nose up. But we have to do it, just like everyone else in the world that we originally thought we would never be like HA!
But in the meantime, "Be the queen you are" is how my Dr. put bed rest. That's just not me since I think I have to earn what I get; nothing comes to me without work or management or SOMEthing. I'd make a terrible Queen and will always be a worker bee.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Gooder than...
Here's something you don't hear everyday when you just ask a stranger how they are doing:
"Better than snuff and gooder than taters." OR "Better than snuff and a third less dusty."
WHAT??
Not to be judgmental or anything but I'm not sure the speaker would even know what a third of anything is much less taking a mental measure of their snuff dust and calculating a fraction of it.
And what is snuff dust? I guess I don't know what snuff even is so I'll wikipedia it in a minute. I just know that stuffy, entitled ladies take a little and try to be all sly about getting a buzz like they are somehow immune to the temptation of a short lived high. At least they do on Andy Griffith.
But it must be just ok if there is a phrase that has a snuff user as a reference point for feeling good. Society has gravitated from any discretion and instead choose a more balls out high, you know, like meth. "My teeth fell outta my head but dang I feel great!"
I only meet the occasional pot head now but that's about the simplest drug form I can think of that is classified as a "drug". Sure kids drink cough syrup or huff on glue ( shoot, I'll take a wiff of a Sharpie when it opens) but real drugs seem to have an exposure hierarchy with pot at the bottom tier. Unless, I've been out of the loop for a while a kids go straight for hard dope.
My BFF and I were talking today about some of the things we lived through during our almost 20 years as constants and the drug topic has us the most amazed. We hung out with some pretty seedy (i don't even know another word for some of them) but good hearted folks, back in the day, and participated in many a premeditated nogoodness but when hard drugs came into the group, looking back, I am kinda proud of us. We would just look around, find each other's face and know to leave - automatic, no regrets about being uncool. I always had the thought that I had too much to lose, even if I didn't know what it was yet. I don't remember exactly what she was thinking but it must have been similar. We just left and found some other haunt to occupy where the company was as divey as we were ;D The song " Friends in Low Places" is coming to mind. There are many a good folk and comraderie in low places. And you don't really have to have low standards, well, ok, yeah ya do. You just know not to wear your best shoes and hover when you use the ladies (nevermind that mustache) room.
Even now I can feel a bit uncomfortable in posh atmospheres if I'm not in the right mood - gimme a beer, a bowl of stale chips and a wood floor and I'm fine...
"Better than snuff and gooder than taters." OR "Better than snuff and a third less dusty."
WHAT??
Not to be judgmental or anything but I'm not sure the speaker would even know what a third of anything is much less taking a mental measure of their snuff dust and calculating a fraction of it.
And what is snuff dust? I guess I don't know what snuff even is so I'll wikipedia it in a minute. I just know that stuffy, entitled ladies take a little and try to be all sly about getting a buzz like they are somehow immune to the temptation of a short lived high. At least they do on Andy Griffith.
But it must be just ok if there is a phrase that has a snuff user as a reference point for feeling good. Society has gravitated from any discretion and instead choose a more balls out high, you know, like meth. "My teeth fell outta my head but dang I feel great!"
I only meet the occasional pot head now but that's about the simplest drug form I can think of that is classified as a "drug". Sure kids drink cough syrup or huff on glue ( shoot, I'll take a wiff of a Sharpie when it opens) but real drugs seem to have an exposure hierarchy with pot at the bottom tier. Unless, I've been out of the loop for a while a kids go straight for hard dope.
My BFF and I were talking today about some of the things we lived through during our almost 20 years as constants and the drug topic has us the most amazed. We hung out with some pretty seedy (i don't even know another word for some of them) but good hearted folks, back in the day, and participated in many a premeditated nogoodness but when hard drugs came into the group, looking back, I am kinda proud of us. We would just look around, find each other's face and know to leave - automatic, no regrets about being uncool. I always had the thought that I had too much to lose, even if I didn't know what it was yet. I don't remember exactly what she was thinking but it must have been similar. We just left and found some other haunt to occupy where the company was as divey as we were ;D The song " Friends in Low Places" is coming to mind. There are many a good folk and comraderie in low places. And you don't really have to have low standards, well, ok, yeah ya do. You just know not to wear your best shoes and hover when you use the ladies (nevermind that mustache) room.
Even now I can feel a bit uncomfortable in posh atmospheres if I'm not in the right mood - gimme a beer, a bowl of stale chips and a wood floor and I'm fine...
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Anti Spring Chickens UNITE!
Now that I have all the time in the world I have no excuse not to blog; other than sitting makes my back hurt and I kind of cringe at the thought of having to sit here in my substandard chairs to write. Really I have very few complaints about being pregnant but the few are big and obnoxious and make a difference to my standard of comfort.
Creating a human is not for wussies just like raising said human is not for the faint of heart. Here towards the end I have made a homemade body oil to help with dry skin, the main oil being olive oil. I grease my belly up and smell like a gourmet tapenade. I bet if I walked downtown all the Italians would turn and look seductively my way (like we have so many in Nashville!). Now that I think of it, I wish we had sections of town like Chinatown or Little Italy – I miss that about Florida and loved it about NYC. I could buy all the fake bags and amazing risotto I wanted! Stereotypes exist for a reason, right?
I’ve totally digressed from the topic here… I’ll risk smelling bad or being an Italian Pied Piper to not get stretch marks. Not a problem!
Hmmmm, what else? Oh yeah, getting tangled in blankets when I sleep. Poor Gary wakes up with a cold butt pretty often because I’ve gotten my legs all discombobulated and I can’t escape! I have to elevate my top half cuz I’m breathing heartburn fire, try to stay on my left side AND roll over countless times a night. Puleez. Just get your own covers cuz I’m trapped in a cotton octopus over here.
I’m pretty excited now though – we have maybe 7 weeks left. We have the necessities and are physically ready for this little thing to appear. My doctor is hoping he/she will be ready sooner and is limiting my activities so you may notice a pychosis creep into my blogs as my brain gets bored and atrophies. Gary grows ‘em big and apparently my frame is small. I don’t ever feel small but she’s said it over and over…whatever. But some days I don’t feel so good and can be a bit anemic. I actually have to remember that I’m 36 now and like Aunt Bee said “No spring chicken anymore”.
My BFF and I have decided to be the Anti Spring Chickens. She will always be a cougar though which makes me realize the danger of my situation!
Creating a human is not for wussies just like raising said human is not for the faint of heart. Here towards the end I have made a homemade body oil to help with dry skin, the main oil being olive oil. I grease my belly up and smell like a gourmet tapenade. I bet if I walked downtown all the Italians would turn and look seductively my way (like we have so many in Nashville!). Now that I think of it, I wish we had sections of town like Chinatown or Little Italy – I miss that about Florida and loved it about NYC. I could buy all the fake bags and amazing risotto I wanted! Stereotypes exist for a reason, right?
I’ve totally digressed from the topic here… I’ll risk smelling bad or being an Italian Pied Piper to not get stretch marks. Not a problem!
Hmmmm, what else? Oh yeah, getting tangled in blankets when I sleep. Poor Gary wakes up with a cold butt pretty often because I’ve gotten my legs all discombobulated and I can’t escape! I have to elevate my top half cuz I’m breathing heartburn fire, try to stay on my left side AND roll over countless times a night. Puleez. Just get your own covers cuz I’m trapped in a cotton octopus over here.
I’m pretty excited now though – we have maybe 7 weeks left. We have the necessities and are physically ready for this little thing to appear. My doctor is hoping he/she will be ready sooner and is limiting my activities so you may notice a pychosis creep into my blogs as my brain gets bored and atrophies. Gary grows ‘em big and apparently my frame is small. I don’t ever feel small but she’s said it over and over…whatever. But some days I don’t feel so good and can be a bit anemic. I actually have to remember that I’m 36 now and like Aunt Bee said “No spring chicken anymore”.
My BFF and I have decided to be the Anti Spring Chickens. She will always be a cougar though which makes me realize the danger of my situation!
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