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My grandpa always said, It's better to fart and bear the shame, than not to fart and bear the pain.
Though truer words have never been spoken, I find myself completely unable to follow it despite coming from a family that delights in nothing more. Burps, farts, and poo stories are shared over the dinner table.
When we all vacation in Lake Powell on the houseboat, it becomes a game. Like when my uncle walks out of the bathroom, one of two that all 35 of us share for an entire week, holding up a plastic knife and grinning.
As in, how many cuts does it take.
So, in the church that I belong to the women participate in something we lovingly call Visiting Teaching. I have a companion and we are given a list of a few women to visit from the ward once a month, to talk, chat, help if there needs be, and just plain old get to know each other.
Until recently I haven't been a huge fan of this, because I've usually been busy with work and normal home activities, and it was just one other thing that I needed to do. I didn't feel like I needed anyone to visit me, and so why did I need to visit anyone else? Can't we just opt out of it?
However, in the past few months I've really grown to enjoy it, and look forward to seeing them each month and visiting.
Maybe it's partially to do with the fact that I'm a little cooped up, and it's nice to get out of the house for a while (I even go without Wyatt!).
Or, maybe I'm just growing up.
Either way, one of the women that we visit had a little girl two days before I had Wyatt, and I particularly like seeing her because we talk about our babies and compare notes. I try to reign in my jealousy that her girl sleeps from 7 pm until 6, with one feeding, and I walk away grateful that Wyatt is so happy go lucky.
Last night I was lamenting the week we've had with Wyatt, the lost sleep, the crying, the waking up. (Last night was particularly hard, he woke up every hour, or two, at most. I'm a zombie.) They offered advice and encouragement, and I felt better. And then she started talking about how her little girl was teething.
Teething. At 3 months. My interest was piqued.
Teething? How could she teeth this early!? They don't get teeth until much later!
Apparently though, baby teeth can be little teasers. They come close to the surface and then fade back down, sometimes doing this several times before they actually break though, months later.
I DID NOT KNOW THIS.
After looking up the symptoms again I am convinced this is what is going on with Wyatt. The sudden stuffy nose that never went anywhere, the way he bites his binki, the crankiness, the excess drool, the waking up at night. The poor kids gums hurt.
With this knowledge, coupled with some advice from his pediatrician about keeping him up more (easy for her to say...), I just put Wyatt down without a fuss. NO CRYING. ASLEEP.
It's amazing what can happen when you do the right things. I believe it's called BLESSINGS.
(PS. The kid just woke up. So maybe it's not fixed, but I am armed with knowledge. And this feels better.)
Last week I attempted to make ribs for dinner. Ribs. I'd never done them before, so it was new from the beginning. I grabbed a recipe for a spicy rub, went to my local grocery store to get "baby back ribs" (turns out they didn't have any, and the butcher told me the ones he gave me were similar...) and handed the thoroughly rubbed down finished product to Caleb to grill.
I'm sure I could work a grill...if I tried...but I haven't...that's why I married Caleb. So he could do the grilling and the drilling and the killing of spiders for me.
The recipe said to grill them on medium heat for 75 - 90 minutes. That they'd "fall off the bone" by the end, which sounds good, right? Caleb went to check them at 75 minutes and said they were "gettin' there".
He went out ten minutes later and brought back in this:
I burst out laughing. It was CHARRED. Totally inedible. Caleb thinks that the fat drippings caused some sort of fire, because the grill looks charred as well. The bone tips (ugh...bones) on the thing were white.
And I have to admit, the first thing I thought of was that quote from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.
"Catherine, if this turkey tastes half as good as it looks, we're all in for a real treat."
We opted for grilled chicken that night, instead.
Woo! Night 4 begins! It's been an hour since we tried to put him down, and it appears we're in for another "fun" one. So. Please enjoy my insanely adorable baby, all spruced up for church.
Staring at...something...slowly...falling...to...the...side...
Really enjoying his hands. I can't blame him, they ARE quite delicious.
We've had a couple of rough nights here at the Casa de la Nelson (I don't know Spanish very well, but that has to be close, right? Abby?) with Wyatt, he's had trouble going to bed for the night. He's fighting it. Last night it was definitely because he was overly tired, I think in the end he was up for 3 or 4 hours total before he gave in.
"Gave in" isn't exactly the correct term though, more like finally fell asleep from exhaustion. From crying.
After several attempts at trying to get him to sleep, many trips to pop the binki back in, rock him, nurse him a bit, swing him, anythingtoproducethesleepies, we let him cry. Mostly, at first, because he was refusing to take his binki, preferred to cry unless he was held, and I've found that if I let him cry for a minute he'll eagerly take his binki and usually fall asleep.
But, last night wasn't anywhere near "usual".
Weary, at the end of our ropes, not knowing what else to do, we decided to let him cry for a minute to see if he'd wear himself out enough to sleep. Caleb and I laid there on the couch in silence, both hating it. I think we lasted 5 minutes or so before I got up, not able to listen to him cough and choke anymore. After I soothed him, wiped away his tears, maybe a few of my own, he fell into an exhausted sleep, around 10:45. Caleb and I weren't far behind him, we were both in bed ten minutes later.
Thankfully he slept fairly well after that, instead of repeating the previous night where he woke up every hour or so.
I'm at my wits end, I can't figure out why he's fighting it so much, he does really well napping during the day. At night though, he literally fights it. He'll fall asleep, but a minute or two later he wakes up and is awake. Eyes wide open. Or sometimes he fights falling asleep, and the second he feels himself giving in he riles himself up again.
I'm trying to figure out where my good, easy baby went. Why the sudden problem?
I've been reading Dr. Weissbluth's book, but lucky for me, his take on the matter is that there is no real schedule until they reach about four months. We're close, but it seems so far off. I know this will pass, I know he's not going to wake up for the rest of his life. For some reason though, when you're in the thick of it, that's all you can see.
I'm sure someday we'll look back on this and laugh. Ha! Remember the time when he wouldn't sleep?!
For now though, we're prisoners. Prisoners to sleep. Prisoners who are frantically looking up any sort of help online. In books.
Help, or, at the very least, some commiserating.
You think I'm cute now? Wait until I shoot my poop halfway up my back...
Having just read a friend's blog about her baby regressing in the sleep area, I feel very wary in saying this...but...last night Wyatt slept from 7:30 until 2. 2 AM, when I basically woke him up because not only was I slightly freaked out by his sudden long stretch, nearly 7 hours when it's been 4 at most for the past several weeks, but he had his shots yesterday and I think he's been fighting a cold for the past two days. So. I kinda took his temperature with our fancy little forehead thermometer (thank you FSA monies!). Normal. Phew!
And he was breathing! Not that I checked though...
(I never check to see if he's breathing if he's been sleeping unusually long. I would never do that...)
Thankfully he stirred and woke up enough to nurse - which was good because DUDE. When your baby goes from nursing every three or four hours to SEVEN? SEVEN WHOLE HOURS? There are a few things, two in particular, that sort of get FULL and OUCHY and MIGHT POP ANY SECOND, HURRY UP BABY AND EAT!
After nursing he went back to sleep and basically slept until 7:30, with one more feeding and a few pop-the-binki-back-in-several-times wake ups in between. That's pretty much 12 hours. 12 glorious hours. And not only that, but he slept SO well today, despite the cold fighting, so I'm attempting an experiment. Maybe this Dr. Weissbluth is on the right track.
All ready for our walk this morning!
A much needed break from all this rain!
Now I'll always be able to tell them apart!
Or rather, 2.13.09...consisted of a surprise getaway to our favorite fancy-but-surprisingly-affordable-hotel.
Caleb gave me these gorgeous orchids, and a label maker.
I'm not kidding.
And while that might sound like the most ridiculous present ever (right up there with a vacuum, right?), I love it. Ever since we got married Caleb has joked about getting me a label maker and a holster, and if that doesn't give you an idea of my crazy OCD personality, I don't know what will.
I gave Caleb some clothes to play basketball in and a few items to play golf with.
So there you have it, the best / worst things to get your lover for Valentines Day! We are so romantic...
While I spruced up for dinner at my favorite restaurant, Caleb and Wyatt played with the little toys we got him. And when I say we, I mean me.
Each one plays the sound the animal makes. Pretty fancy for the dollar section of Target...
We tried to take a picture of the three of us before we left for dinner but it didn't exactly turn out. We took at least 30, and this is the best we have.
No one is quite in focus, everyone's cut off, but you get a nice shot of the lamp back there, and the fabulously gaudy velvet headboard.
After we put Wyatt to bed (in the hotel pack'n'play in the bathroom...) we hunkered down for some chilled Martinelli's and the previous week's episode of Lost that we missed.
Again, we are so romantic.
After driving around all afternoon in hopes of somehow spotting the perfect next rental (riiiiiight...) we returned home to find Wyatt's first Valentine...
Thanks Jo! He loved looking at it. So cute, wish I'd thought to send some out!
I once went an entire four months without a cell phone when I studied abroad in Australia. For the most part I didn't miss it, though that might have had more to do with the fact that there wasn't anyone to call anyway. There was only a certain window during the day when I could call home (usually at 2 am for me) and my room mates were hardly home.
It would have been nice, however, when I found myself completely and utterly lost on the third day in the country. This is my parent's favorite story, the one where I set out to find my church building, become totally lost, and then actually get into some strange man's car because he's offered to take me the rest of the way. No one knew where I was, no one was expecting me. And at that point, even if I'd HAD a cell phone, I wouldn't have known how to call anyone.
But somehow I survived.
I was trying to take Wyatt's 3 month pictures this morning right after he woke up, and got some pretty good shots (to be shown later...). Pretty soon though, I realized we'd left The Window.
You know. The Window of time that little babies can handle being poked and moved and cooed at. I mentioned he's only awake for an hour, hour and a half these days, so The Window isn't very long.
I took lots of (nearly) naked baby photos first, and many of them turned out very well, but when I changed him into this adorable outfit he started to lose interest. Started getting a little...sleepy. Unable to hold himself up on his arms, he sort of just rolled to the side. Though the big fluffy pillows weren't helping either.
Bundle me up, or lose me forever...
He was clearly done, but championed through a bit more photos. None of which quite turned out, but there's always tomorrow.
Or maybe Saturday when I'll have another set of hands at home in the morning...
Today Wyatt turns 3 months old, and I am again struck by how quickly these past three months have gone. I was recently discussing the phenomenon that happens after you have a baby, how time seemed to actually crawl, literally on hands and knees, when you're pregnant. A week seems like an eternity when you're overdue. Then you have a baby and a week goes by with nothing but a BLIP! and suddenly, before you know it, your baby is three months old. Three months.
While we haven't got a schedule going, apparently scheduling doesn't really happen until they're four months, we do have a good routine down. Which, really, consists of nothing more than the concept that babies can't handle being awake for longer than an hour to two hours. At this point we're still at the hour, hour and 15 min mark, so after he wakes up and eats (sometimes...) I change him and then we play, and after he's been awake for an hour I pop the binki back in, bundle him up and put him down. It usually takes a few minutes of replacing the binki before he settles into sleep, but sleep he does, usually for at least two to three hours. I'd never heard that before, the hour to two hour thing, but I'm really surprised at how true it is. Even when he doesn't seem tired, he is. He'll be talking and laughing and seemingly very content, and then minutes later he's sound asleep.
That said, he's still not sleeping through the night. For several weeks he would sleep for six hours, eat, and then go back for another three or four. It was lovely, and I didn't know how good I had it. A week or so ago he started going through this growth spurt (I did read that they usually go through one around three months) and he went back to waking up every three or four hours at night, and eating mostly every three hours during the day instead of four. Good news though, after four days of no poop last week, it's back. With a vengeance. Almost at every changing yesterday. So. He's good. Maybe too good...
He's starting to grow out of his clothes and I've discovered that the brands of baby clothes are not created equal. So he's in 0-3 months in one brand and 3-6 months in another. His "newborn" size pants still fit, but his 0-3 month pajamas are getting small. And I think he's inherited my monkey arms, because many of his long sleeve shirts are becoming three quarter sleeve shirts, while still fitting just fine in the body. Sorry, Wyatt, though it's not the worst thing you could have inherited. You could have mama's paper thin lips.
Speaking of monkeys, somewhere along the way that became his nickname. Monkey. It actually comes out of my mouth more often than Wyatt does, and I'm starting to wonder if it's going to confuse him. I'm not sure where it came from, the only thing I've come up with is that it was the first thing to make him laugh, Caleb's monkey noises. Or maybe it stemmed from our discovery of his long monkey feet. Either way it's stuck, and hopefully one day he'll forgive me for it.
Wyatt is the most talkative and happy in the morning, right after he wakes up. Sometimes he'll wake up and talk and laugh in his cradle for several minutes, and I still can't quite figure out what is so funny about the ceiling. But apparently it's a crack up.
He coos, he squeals, he grins, and it's my favorite part of the day.
For some reason babies sneeze a lot, the nurse who checked Wyatt's weight when we brought him back two days after he was born was quick to tell me this, that they get the hiccups alot and sneeze alot, and it's nothing to be concerned about. I thought this was kind of odd, because I don't think I would ever be worried that Wyatt had the hiccups. Or sneezed. But you never know I guess, there's something about being a mom that suddenly has you worried about everything from poop to, apparently, sneezes. Anyway, Wyatt has a funny little quirk where he makes a little "ooh" coo noise after he sneezes. A completely satisfied "ooh", and who can blame him? Sneezing is satisfying. Don't you hate it when you have the urge to sneeze, you're almost there, and then it goes away? Drives me crazy.
Just this last week Wyatt started to reach out to touch and grab objects, and I caught it on camera.
(Don't you love the rolled blanket to prevent binki loss? One night he spit it out so forcefully it rolled out of the cradle and onto the floor and I had to slide around on my hands and knees to find it and then had to clean it off and it was such a pain. So I created this impenetrable barrier...you marvel at my superior genius...)
I set him in his cradle so that I could pee in private, and when I came back he was batting at this little lamb lullaby thingy that's tied to the cradle (thank you Anderson girls! He loves it!). It was so fun to see him get control of his hands and arms like that, up until then you could see that he wanted it, could see that he knew he could get it, but he couldn't quite figure out how to make his arms reach up. Instead his arms would twitch and move, his eyes focused on the object, and after a minute or so he'd get frustrated and yell a little protest.
Which is what he does when he's tired or hungry, he doesn't cry so much as he makes a noise that I can only describe as a protest. Usually followed by whiny cat noises. I've said that before, that my mom thought it sounded like a cat, but it really does. The other day we were at our friend's house and Wyatt was asleep in his carrier in the other room. Or so we thought. As Caleb and I were eating our Thai takeout, our friend came in the room carrying Wyatt, saying that he'd walked down the stairs and could have sworn he'd heard a cat. Turned out it was Wyatt trying to let us know that he was awake.
Oh, and today he figured out the whole finger sucking thing.
Two fingers, instead of the entire first.
The other day Wyatt was getting fussy and I asked Caleb to grab his binki. In the mean time I decided to let him suck on my finger, something I don't really do, and I was surprised at how hard he could suck. You'd think of all people I would know, but I was so shocked I told Caleb to come feel it. Our kid is a champion sucker. Too bad he's also picky about my little oversupply problem...
Sorry Wy, I'm still trying to figure it all out.
I feel so blessed to be his mama, and am constantly falling in love with him all over again. He is so happy and so good, I fear we're not going to get this lucky next time. I absolutely love this, love being a mom, and each time I reach in his cradle to pick him up and he gives me that big wide gummy grin of his, I am reminded of how blessed we are to have him.
In another attempt to further bog myself down with projects, I signed up to make two dozen "fancy" cookies for our church's Winter Ball.
What, you ask, qualifies as a "fancy" cookie?
I have no idea.
I have a cook book that my second mother gave me for my wedding, a book that consists entirely of cookies. Over 300 cookie recipes. I figured I could find something fancy in there.
Except that I have this Thing that prohibits me making any recipe that I haven't seen before, or that doesn't come with a picture, or that someone hasn't recommended for me. And I couldn't find anything that was fancy enough with a picture that didn't contain some form of coffee, and we don't drink coffee. So I spent the week searching for Fancy Cookies with Pictures That Don't Contain Coffee.
And somewhere in the mix I decided on sugar cookies. And they aren't fancy at all. So I attempted to fancify them up, using a recipe from good 'ole Martha Stewart.
She automatically makes everything fancy, am I right?
I got a fantastic sugar cookie recipe from my aunt and used it to make this. Stained Glass Cookies. Forgive me, I seem to have misplaced my monocle...
I had some success, half my batch turned out.
The other half did not.
They tasted fine though, so I ate them for dinner.
What? You have to test your own baking, everyone knows that. Make sure it's not poisoned or something. You know.
Anyway, I knew this would happen, so I also made some and frosted them, all plain like, using Martha's buttercream icing (in this month's issue, she uses it for cupcakes but icing is icing is icing), which is exactly what it sounds like. The recipe consists of a humongous amount of butter and an equally huge helping of sugar. And a pinch of vanilla. These cookies are NOT part of a well-balanced diet.
I couldn't figure out how to get the camera to capture the true color of the purple cookies, they look navy for some reason. Or maybe my computer's colors are just off. Anyway. Dusty Pink and Deep Violet, courtesy of my Neon Colors food coloring.
I KNEW that was going to be a good purchase, thank you clearance section of Target!
Wyatt, as always, was a complete angel the entire day, sleeping or sitting contentedly in his chair while mama mixed and chilled and rolled and cut and crushed and baked and iced...
This is his enough with this camera stuff, mama shot.
Also known as his It's Time to Put Me to Bed face.
We actually went to the Winter Ball and had our pictures taken, high school prom-style. As soon as I get them, the pictures will be posted here. It was fabulously cheesy and I loved every minute of it. Cute old couples in their best sequined numbers and bow ties, doing a cute shuffle to "Everybody Dance Now". Does it get any better than that?
I was tagged by my lovely friend Tara to post the sixth picture in my sixth folder on my computer. But since Caleb was also tagged to do the same post, and since the sixth picture in the sixth folder was his, I'm switching it up a bit. The seventh in the seventh. If you will.
Very relevant. This is my sister Kathy, checking her email. She and my other sister Liz were visiting Caleb and I when we first moved down to California. That's their makeshift bed set up in the living room / dining room / kitchen / office in our old apartment, a one bedroom that cost nearly as much as the rent we're paying for the two bedroom home that we're in. So sad.
Kathy is currently serving a mission for our church and has been out for exactly a year today. I'm so proud of her, proud of the sacrifice she's making to do something that she knows is right. She is a wonderful example to me, and I look forward to Wednesdays when we get to hear from her via email.
I miss her like crazy.
Sigh. Anyway.
We had a lot of fun when they came to visit.
(me making fun of Kathy's Serene Camera Face)
I love these girls. And the little munchkin Emily, not pictured.
Caleb loved having a one bedroom apartment full of girls. Loved every second of it.
A few weeks ago I convinced Caleb to walk the nearby outdoor mall with me. It's a hoity-toity place with few stores I can actually afford, but I love to window shop, and it was warm and sunny and does it get any better than that? In January? I think not.
Before I forced him to try the new yogurt shop, Pinkberry, I ran into Anthropologie because they were having a sale. (Again, does it get any better than that?) I picked out a book for a mere $4 by a children's author that I love and also found this little gem:
Animal House, by Catherine Ledner. I didn't buy it then, I rarely do when I find something fabulous at Anthropologie, I write down the item and then search Amazon. It's almost always cheaper, especially if you save up a few items and qualify for free shipping (after $25 worth of merchandise).
It's a book of animal portraits against whimsical backgrounds, funky carpets and wallpaper. She pairs most of them with fun little poems about that animal, and I thought it would be a great book for Wyatt, an unconventional "what animal is this?" book.
A few pages have fun little additions, like this cut out window.
Or these "stripes" for the zebra.
Except I can't seem to put it in the armoire with the rest of the books I've started collecting for him. It's too much fun to pull out as I'm checking my email, or making dinner, or doing the laundry. I've flipped through it with him, he likes the bright colors, but I'm most excited for when he's a bit older and can really enjoy the animals and guess their names.
Plus I can't wait to hear what the word "sloth" sounds like coming from an 18 month old.
I wish babies came equipped with a little sleeping fairy.
Preferably one that could tell you how long they were going to be sleeping. Forget sleeping through the night, I'm not looking for that. I want to know when I put Wyatt down for a nap how long he'll be out. An hour? Two? Three? Five? An approximate would do. I'm not picky.
It would be helpful during the day so that I could plan what exactly to do with my time. Start the laundry? Clean the house? Quickly make myself some lunch?
Last night we put Wyatt down for a nap and he fell asleep a little after 7 pm. Normally at night he'll sleep for an hour or two and then wake up again. He usually goes down for the night (with one waking for a feeding) between 10 and 11 pm, after a bath and a feeding.
Last night however, he slept until midnight.
Which is great, right? But I had no idea this was what was happening, so I stayed awake until then thinking, "he'll wake up soon". Had I known this was the plan, I'd have gone to sleep. I was a little anxious about it, thinking he'd wake up from this five hour nap and be awake! When I wanted to sleep! So when he finally got up I took him into the living room so Caleb could sleep, but he surprised me. He fell back asleep and slept until 4, and then again until 7:30. And then slept for a good portion of the day today. I had to wake him up, from a four hour and counting nap, to head to an appointment and he seemed thoroughly put out. He gave me this look like, really? You're really going to wake me up?
It's got to be some sort of growth spurt.
Still trying to get his entire fist in his mouth
Do growth spurts also include poop strikes?
The white roof? Actually tiny little tiles. Who knew?
One day, a few weeks before I gave birth, Safeway sent me a box in the mail containing a sample size of Benefiber.
It's like they KNEW....
We're back from our trip and I'm sort of wondering how it is that it's over already. It went by quickly, too quickly, and I'm ready to be back on vacation. Caleb's ready for any vacation, period. In fact, on our last day as we lay by the pool, Abby and I reading and lounging, the boys were busy planning our next vacation. Which is sort of the way I like to do things.
There isn't much to report about the trip, we spent the first two days shopping and the last two days by the pool. Besides one little hitch (lost wallet is magically found at the mall, wonderful bell boy offers to pick it up on his break for me) the trip was perfect. Wyatt did so well on the plane, didn't cry once. The boys enjoyed the convention. We enjoyed the break. Really, we couldn't complain about sunshine and 80 degree weather.
Funny, no one sat by us. Apparently children on planes are to be avoided...
Good morning Wyatt!
View outside our patio
Sleepy baby by the pool...
Bundled, and ready for sleep! I promise. Them eyes are sleepy.
Ahhh......
This pool looks serene, and it was, except for the seagulls. Those seagulls knew what they were doing. Two seconds after Abby and I walked away from where we were sitting two of them waddled, very quickly I might add, to our little table and pulled our bag of chips off of it and shook the bag. They'd swallowed three of them whole by the time I made it over there, then spent the rest of the day slowly walking by in hopes that we'd slip up again.
Abby, gettin' her lounge on.
Feeding by the pool. Better than feeding on the couch at home!
Caleb playing with Wyatt after classes. Wyatt had just woken up from a long nap. Clearly.
Ready for bed
We came home to a house that was 60 degrees. I broke out the Christmas present that my dad gave to him, a mini Utah Jazz sweatshirt. I love it.
We like to start 'em young. Fans for life.
