Kimba

Blessing Day

It appears I've taken a little vacation from blogging. I didn't mean to really, it just sort of happened, and I'm not sure if it's over or not. I'm spending all my time with family and friends, loving every minute of it, and by the end of the night (usually after yet another family gathering) I'm exhausted. Caleb will ask me if I want the computer, if I'm going to post, and I pause for a second, consider it, and then shake my head.

My bed is just so inviting, and there's only so many hours that I get to spend with it, I have to take what I can get.

In other words, no, Wyatt hasn't decided to drop the 3 or 4 am feeding yet. They say sometimes it happens around 6 weeks but I don't see it changing by Tuesday. However, I'm up for a surprise. I wouldn't mind him proving me wrong.

We blessed him today in our church and it was so wonderful to have so many of our family and friends there. In preparing for it (i.e. preparing the feast) my mom and I figured there could be well over 100 people at our house, and I believe we were close. But if there is one thing my family knows how to do, it's feeding a large amount of people, and feeding them well.

Wyatt was a little angel, he didn't cry and slept most of the day. Quite an accomplishment while being passed around by so many people. He really is such a good little baby.

More to come, Wyatt is hungry and Caleb, conveniently, doesn't have the boobies.

Merry Christmas

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas, we sure are enjoying being home with family and loving on our little Wyatt.

He started smiling the other day. I didn't believe Caleb at first, he's only 5 weeks, but Caleb swore he was smiling at him while he made monkey noises, and turns out he was right. It's adorable, but we've yet to get it on camera. Rest assured that we will, as Caleb has been trying out his new lens.

More later, I have some excellent nativity scenes for you all, including one very fabulous "donkey".

Merry Christmas!

You knew this would happen, though

Foreshadow: It's the day before we're to drive home to Utah. I get ready to leave the house to make a quick last minute shopping run. On my way out I decide to refill one of the candy dishes sitting on our entryway table (what? you mean the "console" table? right....) with Reese's candy holiday bells, Caleb's favorite. He was on his way home, early, to help get ready for the drive and would be home in about 30 minutes.

That's key - the mutt was alone for 30 minutes, tops.

After my shopping trip I walked in the door and immediately noticed the candy bowls. They'd moved. I peeked in and found that the bowl with the Reese's was completely gone, and so was the bowl with the Hershey's kisses. Tin foil and all. I immediately ordered the mutt into the laundry room for the night, but of course, nothing.

I didn't want to bring the mutt.

You all know that. I mentioned it, a few times.

Let's just run through our drive home, shall we?

6:15 am - Wyatt wakes up, eats, decides a mid-change poop would suit him just fine. Change clothes, throw changing pad in a sack to clean later.

9:03 am - The mutt pukes. Big time. Caleb is reaching back to hold the mutt away from the car seat, and I'm reaching back trying to hold up my preshus diaper bag, voicing my disgust, and Caleb is trying to steer us off the nearest exit.Caleb cleans it up, apparently he'd come prepared with disinfecting wipes and everything.

10:15 am - Stop to feed Wyatt. He's a perfect little angel.

11:00 am - Back on the road again

12:20 pm- Bear pukes, again. Replay the earlier scenario. Oh look, tin foil! I start threatening to leave him there on the side of the road. He'd find some nice family, right?

1:45 pm - Stop to feed Wyatt and ourselves. Again, Wyatt is perfectly happy and content. Mental note to self: next time order my food AFTER I feed him. Nobody loves cold food...

3:36 pm - The mutt pukes, again. Caleb nearly throws up himself cleaning it up. He assures me that he thinks this is it, because that HAD to be all of the tin foil...This time I'm serious, surely Bear would be able to survive out here. There's plenty of rabbits and stuff.

The rest of the drive was fairly uneventful, except that by then Bear was way past the point of annoying me, and every little thing he did drove me insane. I think I even uttered the words, "He's breathing on me!", knowing full well that I sounded like a three year old, and not caring.

That night when we'd finally settled into bed I was up with Wyatt, he'd slept so well all day long that he was having a hard time sleeping at night. It was 2:30 by the time I'd settled him down, but I couldn't sleep because Bear was in the downstairs laundry room (for fear of the puke) whining. Had been since we put him in. I stayed there because I knew if I went to him it wouldn't be pretty. Caleb brought him into our room (me, sighing in disgust) at 3. Of course he immediately fell asleep, happy and content to be inches from Caleb. "You know what this means, right Cabe? He wins. That's what it means. He just won."

Seems like he always wins, though.

Here we go...

We're embarking on our trek home tomorrow morning. The car will be stuffed full of suitcases, presents, people, all manner of baby items, and a mutt (don't even get me started on the last one...).

The drive is going to be a bit longer this year, what with having to stop every 3 or 4 hours to feed Wyatt.

Wish us luck.

Heavenly peace

We're getting ready to drive home on Saturday (weather permitting...come on weather man!) and I had Caleb pull up the bin of winter clothes from underneath the house in preparation for freezing Utah. Or really, all the clothes I own that don't have a panel where there should be a zipper, or nine yards of extra fabric in the front.

It was a really great time, let me tell you, going through clothes and discovering which ones fit, which ones sort of fit, and which ones I looked at and thought, "Honestly? I fit into this?!"

One thing became apparent, and that's that even if a shirt fit, there was some serious stretching in the boob area. Caleb assured me this was perfectly okay, but I don't think I can trust his judgment. I believe he is a little biased.

Tonight was the first night, since oh, I don't know, April? that I put on pants with a zipper and a button. One of the pairs actually buttoned, though it wasn't pretty. Let's just say that I am again grateful for the Bella Band that I purchased in the beginning. It's going to get some use again.

 

He's so worth it, though.

The best kind of detour

I'm going to take a break from the baby stuff for a minute to talk to you all about how ridiculously amazingly awesome I am.

Last night after a quick meeting at our church Caleb and I decided we needed some sort of treat. The gelatto shop that we love was closed for some reason (apparently no one wants gelatto when it's 40 degrees outside) and so I told Caleb we should try an ice cream shop that I'd seen down the road a bit, a little mom and pop shop that looked cute.

We walked in and ordered our ice cream, black raspberry and tin roof sundae, both of which were very good. They also have frozen yogurt and Wow Cow, a type of ice cream with like, 8 calories and low lactose (I found this out after I had already selected the black raspberry...so...we'll be going back to try it!) and then made a discovery. They sell custom made cupcakes.

As in, you create your own, like Cold Stone Creamery for cupcakes. (Quick shout out to my Cold Stone homies...)

You choose between a chocolate or vanilla cupcake and chocolate or vanilla icing, the topping, and, get this, whether you want it injected with hot fudge or marshmallow. We had to get one.

 

Injected with chocolate and topped with Oreo crumbs and cookie dough. Also? It weighed like, 13 pounds.

 

Do you see how large that is?! People, Caleb has a huge mouth, I swear, he could fit his entire fist inside, yet the cupcake dwarfs it.

I was only able to enjoy a forkful or two before it was time to feed, but it was absolutely delicious. Also very good the next day. Caleb just finished it off with a glass of devils brew milk.

If you come out to visit, we will take you there.

Wyatt: 1 Month

I am in complete shock that it has been an entire month since Wyatt was born. One month ago I was laying nearly naked (seriously, you'd think they could come up with something a little more dignified than an open-backed gown with two ginormous slits down the front (for easy access to the boobies). I mean honestly people, I might as well have thrown on a paper bag.) on the hospital bed, sore and in disbelief that finally he was here. As in, no longer curled up on top of my bladder. People always tell you it goes quickly, but I wasn't prepared for how quickly. I don't know if it's the lack of sleep or just the all encompassing effect of caring for your baby, but it feels like it's been mere days. Maybe a couple weeks, tops.

And while I'm already a little sad that he's getting bigger, I'm insanely grateful to be out of those first few days when an hours sleep put me over the moon. I think the worst night we had was the night we brought him home, and after that it's been fairly manageable. I was going on my third night of no sleep, and feeding every hour or so. During one of the times that I was awake that night I left Wyatt in his cradle so that I could go to the bathroom, no small task when you've just given birth. Wyatt started to cry, and even though Caleb was asleep, I thought surely he'd hear his son crying.

But no.

By the time I got back to the room the crying was near screaming and I found Caleb dead asleep facing the opposite direction. I immediately burst into tears, half mad and half jealous. How in the world could he be sleeping through this when I wake up at every single little grunt?!

Around 7 am Caleb finally woke up and I was losing it. I was convinced that Wyatt wasn't getting enough to eat which made me feel terrible and worthless. I handed him over and told Caleb that he needed to give him one of those pre-made bottles they'd sent us home with. He took Wyatt into the nursery and I collapsed onto the bed and slept for two hours.

It was like I'd had my entire body recharged, two hours felt like an eternity.  

The next morning around 5 am Wyatt woke up a little bit before it was time to feed him, and I picked him up and laid down on my side in bed with him, thinking I'd just lie there a minute until it was time, and the next thing I knew it was almost 7 and I was waking up on my own. For a minute I lay there trying to figure out why I was in bed with Wyatt and then panicked because he'd gone so long with out eating. I sat up and it became very apparent - my milk had come in. Big time.

It made all the difference in the world, and he soon started eating every three and four hours, which has been the schedule ever since.

Until last week, of course.

Sunday night I was changing him and noticed that his poo was greenish. After spending a good half hour on the internet I decided that it was due to me having what they call an oversupply, a nice word that pretty much means my boobs are milk machines. Wyatt wasn't eating very long on either side, which meant he wasn't getting enough hindmilk. You can read about it here. I decided to go with their suggestion, and only feed him on one side each time, instead of switching back and forth. And it worked.

And then a few days passed and suddenly he wasn't sleeping during the day. Like, at all. He'd wake up at 9 or 10 for a feeding, and then after that he'd be up until 6 or 7, with maybe only one or two little cat naps in between. I was at my wits end, I knew he was tired but he couldn't stay asleep. He also wanted to eat every two hours, and for two days I did nothing but feed him and soothe him. On the third morning I had an epiphany, and scrambled for the laptop to look up the article again. Reading more carefully, I found that you can correct your problem in just a few days, instead of a week or so like I'd been thinking.

My baby was hungry, people. That's it.

I immediately went back to feeding on both sides and he went back to sleeping. I felt so incredibly stupid and terrible.

So.

Note to self and anyone else who's having their first: read up on breast feeding. I didn't, assuming I'd just figure it out and that what I didn't know would be told / taught to me at the hospital. Which was partially true, and it's not rocket science, but there are a lot of little things that I've learned that would have been so helpful to know beforehand.

Like what to do when your milk comes in and then regulates itself again, and suddenly your baby seems to "forget" how to eat. One morning I was trying to feed him but he wouldn't latch on. He was hungry, that was apparent by his crying, and I had no idea what I was doing wrong. My mom, thankfully, popped her head in the door and gave me a suggestion and in two seconds he was content and eating.

Do your homework.

Amen.

Enough of the supposed doom and gloom, th0se moments were fleeting, and for the most part this month has been spent cooing and cuddling and just staring in awe at our little boy. He is a good baby, fussing only when he's hungry or perhaps when I have the audacity to wipe his warm little bum with a cold wipe.

He loves to cuddle and sleeps much better if he's laying on your chest or curled up in the car seat.

He loves to be rocked, and Caleb loves to rock him.

I love being a mom. I really do, more so than I thought I would, and I thought I would love it a lot. I don't know about anyone else, but before I had him there were several times when I doubted though, when I worried that I would secretly wish to be childless again. When things are easy and it's just the two of us. I have a hard time with things when they're final, I like having my options open. And having a baby is probably one of the most "final" things you could do. So I was just a little bit worried. It hasn't happened, if there is anyone out there wondering the same thing. I love him so much, and love spending the day with him even though we do the same things. Feed, change, feed, change entire outfit, feed, feed, feed, feed, feed. I love it all. It's amazing how immediate it is, the love. Everything changes, and in a good way.

I wasn't prepared to not want to ever leave him. Like, ever. Like, I'm thinking about when we 'll go to see Wicked in early February, the first time I know that we can't have him with us, and I get anxious about leaving him. I know this will change, and I'm hoping it does before then.

I just love him.

 

He's starting to coo and make noises, and I love hearing him "talk". I've become one of those moms, I know, "My baby! He's talking! Look at how amazing!!"

It happens, I guess.

(Please note the brown pants and navy socks. This is what happens when you go through several outfits a day. The items not soaked in baby pee stay on, regardless...)

This face hurts my heart.

 

And oh, does he love that binki. And oh, do I love to listen to him furiously suck on it. Like it's his life force.

Caleb isn't quite as sympathetic...

Thankfully...

I'm knee deep in the Christmas cards / baby announcements / thank you cards that I'm sending out. Wyatt was so cooperative and slept most of the evening.

I'm wondering how this is going to affect his sleep tonight...

In the mean time, I have another little anecdote for you.

Yesterday we were driving and discussing our upcoming road trip home, and what we're going to have to pack and wondering about the weather and such. I say something about how, at least we don't have to worry about bringing food for Wyatt.

Caleb: Isn't that awesome? It's like, we have a lifetime supply of food for him!

........I stare at him in horror...........

Me: Not lifetime....

It's totally different...

Me: So, why do you think it's always Vietnamese people who go through our recycling bins at night?

Caleb: I don't know. They're just looking for bottles and cans to get the money for them.

Me: I know.

I contemplate this for a few minutes as I roll the noodles from my chicken pad thai on my fork.

Me: Do you consider that a form of stealing? Getting the money for our bottles and cans?

Caleb: Mmm......yes and no.

Me: Hmmm.

Caleb: Remember that one time when we were living in Oregon and you grabbed that magazine out of that lady's recycling bin on a walk?

Me:....Oh yeah!...that was awesome. Which magazine was it?

Caleb: (laughing) I don't remember.

Me: Well...I hope it was something good. 

(pause)

Me: I didn't get money for it though. I just enjoyed it. I recycled it.  

Me: (another pause...) And then I probably threw it away...

It's all about timing, isn't it?

I think I fixed it.

Or, I figured it out.

He took three naps yesterday, for 2 and 3 hours, and napped today as well.

Like, I got STUFF DONE.

And I'm feelin' pretty stupid and terrible and ridiculous.

More later, with my huge monthly update...

For now? Can I just lament the fact that this is THE ABSOLUTE WORST time of year to be trying to lose the baby weight?!

Light

The sleep strike continues.

He fell asleep today around 5:30 and when six o'clock hit and he was still asleep, I thought we were golden.

Cabe came home and we whipped up some soup and grilled cheese sandwiches (The Fancy went out the window and hasn't come back yet...) and sat down to eat, just the two of us.

It was magical.

We said our prayer, picked up our spoons, and then heard a wail.

It was 7 pm. An hour and a half, his longest stretch since we woke up this morning at 10.

There is light though, my sling arrived today...

His take on the three week visit

Wyatt seems to be going on a no-sleep strike. He's sleeping well at night, good three and four hour stretches* (and one glorious night a few days ago that included a 5 hour stretch!), but the last two days he's decided that there's just too much going on during the day for sleep.

(*and let's be clear here, for those of you who aren't familiar with what this really means - you time between when you started the first feeding until it's time again to feed. And for us, most feedings last a good 40 minutes, leaving you with just over two hours for a "three hour stretch". It's not fair, I know, but that's how it goes...)

I can tell he's tired. He'll even fall asleep while eating, or maybe if I'm holding him, and a few times he'll actually stay asleep when I put him down. This lasts for 30, maybe 40 minutes at most, and he's up again.

Consequently, I am getting nothing done. Nothing.

Yesterday I showered at 2:30 pm, and by 4 I was finally sitting down, feeding him again, with a small plate of pita chips, cheese triangles, and a few slices of summer sausage (a small weakness of mine...). Lunch. Sort of.

Today was better, only because we went somewhere and his small weakness is the car seat. It was his three week appointment, and he fell asleep, of course, about 10 minutes before we were supposed to leave. My life is one huge Murphy's law example.

His pediatrician happens to be in the same complex as my OBGYN, and it was strange to be there again. As I hauled his car seat and my diaper bag into the building, I laughed to myself because here I was again, waddling, but this time it was due to the car seat and not my aching hips.

They called his name when it was time. So strange to hear it said out loud by a stranger.

What followed next was very textbook - they had me undress him down to his little naked bottom to be weighed and measured. He is 7 lbs 11 oz, nearly a pound bigger than last Monday, and 21 1/4 inches, an inch and a quarter bigger than at birth.

So after she measured him I picked him up and held him sideways, because I don't know, I just KNEW, while she measured his head. She turned to the computer, and I started to wonder if it was okay to put his diaper back on, just as she announces "You can go ahead and put his diaper..."

As far as she got before he peed.

The funniest thing was that she actually seemed surprised. Like she didn't know that baby boys have this Thing. If they're left naked long enough, mere seconds sometimes, the pee flows. It's amazing. Years and years of changing my little sister, and I don't remember being peed on once. But give these boys a few seconds of fresh air and it's like an automatic response. They have to pee.

He wasn't happy about being naked AND wet.

Also, a random side note. Is it just me, or are all moms completely okay with their kids pee, poop, and spit up all over them? Before having kids I would never have thought that I'd nonchalantly wipe errant poop from my hands on a wipe, and then twenty minutes later remember this episode and think, "Hmm...I should probably wash my hands...or something...sometime soon...". He's peed on our sheets two or three times in these last three weeks, and we've changed them once in between. I go to bed knowing there is baby pee on my sheets, and I would classify myself as a germaphobe. Apparently not as far as my baby is concerned though.

Anyway.

The doctor said he looks great, and we discussed a few of the things I was concerned about, sleeping and feeding, though I won't go into details now because I plan to do a little update for him once a month.

I figure that's about as much boob talk as you can handle.

Because honestly, that's all we're talking about around here, my boobs and their current status. It's only natural when you spend your days doing nothing but breastfeeding and changing diapers. Boobs and poop are pretty standard topics 'round these parts.

 

Drunk. Literally...

Still too small for clothes...

 

But my little man is getting bigger. Make it stop!

Grammer 101

Last night Caleb and I are driving home from our friend's house and discussing the gas situation.

You know what I'm talking about right?

How gas was like, over $4.50 just weeks ago, and all of a sudden it's under $2?

Seriously. It's UNDER TWO DOLLARS.

When was gas this cheap? I think I'd just got my license when I was buying gas for this price. It's ridiculous.

And it's not that I'm not grateful, honestly, how could I not be happy about being able to fill my entire tank for $28?

And just for the record, that's what it cost me last night, $28 to fill my tank.

I used to stop the pump at $65 because I couldn't bring myself to pay more than that for gas.

I can't get over this.

I can't enjoy it either, because it feels wrong. It feels suspicious. I feel like I'm stealing.

So I'm telling this to Caleb, how I think it's a conspiracy, that as soon as we elected Obama into office the gas prices plummeted, and as soon as he gets in it's going to go right back up, and how in the world can gas suddenly be under $2, and who is calling these shots, etc. etc. etc., and Caleb is telling me how it's all this Foreign Oil business, and there's this committee and blah blah blah.

And I'm like, I just don't get it, I mean gas didn't suddenly jump from $2 up to nearly $5, it climbed and climbed...

And I stopped my tirade, because suddenly "climbed" didn't sound right. I needed a past tense of "climbed", right?

These are the thoughts of a new mom at nearly 11 pm. I need a past tense for climbed...

So that's what I did. I started again, I mean they "clombed"....

Clombed (pronounced "clomed").

The past tense of "climbed", people. Clombed.

You heard it here first.

Locks

I've decided that the hair has to go.

It either needs to be longer or shorter, and since I can't exactly choose to grow my hair (oh how I wish I could...) cutting it seems to be the only option.

Unless of course Caleb decides he wouldn't be completely freaked out by me borrowing my sister's hair (extensions). Though that doesn't seem to be happening.

A girl can try though, right?

I'm thinking of this (sorry for the commercial before...). Really short.

I'm just trying to make it these next few weeks before I can head home and visit my stylist.

Until then there are going to be many more days of curly / frizzy / half curled / really crappy looking hair.

Sorry Cabe.

The Thing, and, My Denial

During the Thanksgiving weekend my two sisters took it upon themselves to take the mutt for a walk.

Speaking of the mutt, yes, he's still alive. He is currently being neglected by me (though let's face it - this was already in full force) and is absolutely beside himself with excitement every single time Caleb comes home from work. The whining starts the second Caleb pulls up to the house, and continues until Caleb finally concedes and either lets him inside or goes outside to throw the frisbee. If Caleb takes a long time to acknowledge him, he makes himself heard by barking quite manically. I'm sure the neighbors love it.

Oh. And then there's this.

Remember my dilemma? My frantic attempt to find a place for the dog to stay while we went home for Christmas? And then how I found a place and had him evaluated and such? Remember that?

We just decided, due to new family developments, that we're going to need to stay an extra week this Christmas. This is great news, my family and friends will love it (as do I) but um...it means we can't afford to board the dog. It's just too long, too much money.

We have to bring him.

And I'm sort of in denial / mourning. I don't even want to think about it.

Anyway.

That's not what I was going to post about.

I was going to show you this little guy, who was hiding under my mom's shoes that were on my front porch waiting to be cleaned because she'd gone on a walk earlier and had stepped on a pile of dog poop. Liz found him when she picked up the shoes to wear on the walk.

 

I haven't a clue as to what he is. A salamander? He looked like he'd been skinned.

Whatever he is, he apparently likes dog poop. Which is enough information for me. Didn't stop Liz, however...

Awake

 

We're having a hard time today. Apparently sleep is overrated.

Not overrated? Being held. And eating. And pooping. (As always, right?)

(Random question: how does poop find it's way into the folds of his knee? Just wondering.)

This isn't a problem, really, it's just I'm not getting anything done. A quick shower, made quicker by little baby squawks, at 1 pm. Lunch, re-heated pizza and pita chips, at 3 pm. Bed is still unmade, Caleb's clothes remain un-ironed (that's right Cabe...), and we won't even mention the state the house is in.

I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of my new sling.

Unconventional, but it works

I'm in the kitchen putting away the dishes from dinner, and hear Caleb in the family room singing to Wyatt. Caleb does this often, though usually when he's rocking him at night.

How sweet, I think, and turn down the water so that I can hear better, wondering what song he's singing him. A hymn maybe? A nursery rhyme?

Nope.

He was singing him a Killers song.

It works, Wyatt seemed to be enjoying it.

Clearing out the cobwebs

I am so far behind. In everything. There have been so many people who have sent things, offered advice and well wishes, and I have yet to write a single thank you note. I was all caught up before we had little Wyatt, and I was feelin' pretty good about it. Now? So....behind....

My family had a mini baby shower for me, went to dinner and then sent me a big box of gifts and sweet cards. I haven't thanked them yet. (Partially because I'm trying to figure out who gave what...several items were unmarked...family? Anyone know?)

Heather sent me some super adorable onesies. I'll be posting on that soon.

My grandma sent me a sweet card and some money. Thank you so much grandma! I can't wait for you to meet him. I have to warn you though, there isn't much hair on top of his little head for spit curls...

My friend sent me a "boobie basket"containing a comfy night bra, boobie pads, and some adorable socks and toys. It couldn't have come at a better time, I had just told Caleb that I needed some sort of bra for night time, and then poof! There it was. Also, I wish I'd taken a picture of it, the packaging was priceless...

My mom and mother in law have given all sorts of cute clothes, including the most adorable tiny Ugg boots. Perfect. 

A family friend sent the most adorable outfit, cords and a cream sweater. 

Bridgette & Abby sent the most gorgeous flowers, a pot of tulips and a vase of beautiful orchids.

And for the record, I'm not counting this as my thank you. No sir, I didn't make all those thank you notes for nothing!

It's just...taking a while.

And then there's that whole Christmas thing coming up, the present shopping, family Christmas cards, baby announcements, get togethers to plan, family websites to set up, calendars to put together...

Let's just say I'm counting on this little guy to stick to his feeding-every-three-hours schedule he's on. I'm going to need the time.

**********

In other news, Wyatt passed his little weigh in today. He's a whopping 6 lbs. 13 oz., which means my girls are doin' their job. Always reassuring. That's the one thing about breastfeeding, you can't see how much they're actually getting. So you just hope they're getting full.

I ran into a girl today from my church who had her baby two days before I did. Her little girl is sleeping 6 hours at night. I swooned. What would that be like?!

It's okay though. The three hour schedule is great. Except that by the time we've finished the feeding it's been an hour which leaves only two for sleeping...

Speaking of which. Anyone have any great ways to keep your baby awake long enough to finish eating? Right now my weapon of defense is changing him in between sides, which wakes him up a bit. Usually.