Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Welcome to Motherhood!

My mind has been stolen.

I still have my brain, but it isn't functioning quite the same. I am pretty sure my mind is floating around out there somewhere. The one that graduated valedictorian, magna cum laude, and got her Master's. I am pretty sure it is next to that flip flop I can't find for the life of me.

I recently read (or maybe it was a while ago...again, my mind is missing. It could have been years ago, really.) that everyone talks about how your mind goes to mush when you are pregnant, and you get pregnancy brain. And what they don't tell you is that YOU NEVER GET YOUR MIND BACK. (If the person that said this is reading this, let me know. You are my hero.)


Sometimes I wander into a room and forget why I came in there. Oh wait, it gets better. After a couple of dumbfounded minutes, I give up and go back to what I was doing. Then I will remember and go back into the other room, only to realize...I have forgotten again. After about the third time, I give up. Sometimes I am determined, and I will let it go to 6 times. True story.

So I am pretty sure that when that baby popped out, my mind popped out with him and rolled under the hospital bed. In all the commotion, I am pretty sure it got thrown out with the bedsheets.

And you know what went with it? THE ABILITY TO RELAX.

I used to enjoy filling up the tub with bubbles, pouring a glass of wine and watching SATC episodes on my laptop everynight to unwind. (Relax, the computer was always on the closed toilet or counter. I wasn't THAT tipsy.) I can't do that anymore. For several reasons.

First, I can't go anywhere in this house while Isaac is here and in a different room without hearing him cry. He is most times not even crying. But I hear him in my mind. I am constantly listening for his cries, so subconsiously, I rush through whatever I am doing. Monitors don't help. I have tried.

Second, our bath tub here is ginormous and I would drown. I can't get comfy or I will drown. Plus you know, I can't consume as much alcohol while I am nursing.

Even when I am in the house by myself, I can't relax. I try to catch up on some DVRed shows (because I can never watch shows when they are airing. DVR was invented by a mother. I am sure of it.), and I can't focus on them because I am thinking about 10 million other things that I should be doing instead of watched the DVRed shows. Every time I close my eyes at night, I see things I should be doing. If I wasn't so exhausted\, I would probably haul myself out of bed to do them. Really.

I must need to try some meditation classes or yog or SOMETHING. I need to learn to shut this busy mind off and escape somewhere where I don't hear imaginary baby cries or see dust bunnies blow across the floor amongst the crushed kitty crunchies and gerber puffs. And where I can cut out of work a few hours early without having to recrunch our budget in my head to see if I can actually afford to do so without forcing my hsuband and baby to eat ramen for dinner. I am pretty sure this land doesn't exist.

How do I know this?

Um...because I am a mother.

So fellow mommies, fellow bloggers, ANYONE. HOW DO YOU RELAX? HELP ME!!!!!!

I will say I do enjoy naming all the things I can now do one-handed though. It's staggering and impressive.

Stolen Moments

This morning I didn't get up when the alarm went off at 6 am. I heard it. And I woke up and prepared myself to get up.

But then I felt the little baby boy cuddled at my side, all warm and snuggly since about 4:45 when I positioned him for his morning feeding. My heart melted and I reset the alarm for 6:30. I spent the next 30 minutes cuddling my baby, holding him, nuzzling him, and just inhaling his baby smell. I didn't go back to sleep. I just closed my eyes and relished my sleeping angel.

The alarm went off and we both woke up this time. It was time to start the day. My heart broke again at daycare, as his sad little face watched me go back to the car and leave him. I was late for work. I was only about 10 minutes late (no elaborate hair styles or make up today...).

But I didn't care. It was the best 30 minutes I have spent in a long time. It made me crave more. And it made me think about some changes I can make. Changes to better my life and that of my son. Today is now filled with soul searching.

I don't just want stolen moments.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


I have an eight month old baby boy.

WOW. 8 months already.

Yes, Isaac has hit his 8 month mark. I look back at the past 8 months, even the past month alone, at how much he has changed.

He has teeth! FINALLY THANK YOU GOD. His bottom two front teeth have come in. He still has 2 eruption cysts for a few more. Here's hoping those come in soon!

I took him for his flu shot shot a while back. He didn't even cry. I distracted him by blowing in his face. Anyway, at this appointment he weighed 18 pounds 2 ounces.

And he's mobile! He is balancing on all fours and scooting backwards. Every day I expect to see him shooting forward. I have been baby proofing like crazy...and I may or may not have found Pre.cious outlet plugs. He also sits up upsupported and tries his hardest to get into that position by himself. He's just not quite there yet.

His vocabulary has become quite vast, just not in context. He says dada, hi, mamo (I think this is mama. But it comes out maaaaamoooo), and hot. This is my fault. I sing Nelly's Hot in Herre to him when changing him. And I noticed that when I do, he says Hot, Hot, Hot! And I swear that yesterday while Ben and I were both home and he was in his jumperoo, he said "thank you" which sounded like "ank ooo." He blows all kinds of raspberries and also makes a high pitched gurgling noise, a "brrrrrrrrrrrr" of sorts. It's hard to describe. But I hear it in my head and it makes me smile. :)

He uses both hands together and independently. He will pick up things with both hands together and individually, and even something in each hand at the same time. He is trying to figure out how his toys actually work. He loves pushing buttons on things. Whenever I mix his cheerios and puffs together, he separates them out. It is so fun to watch him "work it out" in his mind. He loves animals. He loves "Handy Manny" and starts laughing when we sing the song to him, which he can totally identify. If he isn't paying attention and I start an episode for him, when the music starts he automatically turns his little head and smiles. He also loves Wh.eel of F.ortune. Yep. And I let him watch it. He loves watching the wheel spin and the letters appear. Shut up, it's educational!

We are still breastfeeding exclusively. Eight months down. I really want to make it to 12, but if we get to nine with no problems, I will be happy. At 10 months, I am going to start pumping exclusively....I think. I am just so hesitant to change things that are working for us...also for him to grow up in any way. He is eating solids like a champ. He has definate favorites in squash, peaches, avocados, and peas. He finger feeds himself banana chunks, cheerios, puffs, and yogurt melts. We have started small chicken and carrot chunks, but the texture is throwing him off. He still has his own spoon while he eats and he is sticking it into his food and eventually getting some into his mouth. We are working on the sippy cup. He definately knows what it is, but is not that adept at it yet. He is great at holding his bottle, though.

We need to work on his sleeping habits. He is still waking up at night and I just can't let him cry it out. I have excuses galore, mostly "he's teething and in pain" or "he doesn't feel good" or "we will try it this weekend when we can get more sleep." I know, I know. I just have to bite the bullet. Most times he just needs a little comforting, but others he really is hungry. I just don't know what to do. He occassionally sleeps through the night when he is really tired, but not very often. He is still sleeping in a 4-5 hours chunk when he goes down and then wakes up one or two times after that. He sometimes falls asleep soon after I pick him up, but sometimes not until he has ate a little. He doesn't want to be put down but fusses if I am holding him.

And he still hates pacifiers. Unless he picks it up himself in his playpen. Which, incidently, he doesn't like most time. He likes to be free.

He is still in 6-9 month clothes and size 2-3 diapers (god bless you, Pampers for the inbetween size). We scored alot of Rob.eez on Eb.ay. I love those! And he can't pull them off his feet like socks. But sorry, not paying $30 a pair.

He has such personality now. It becomes more and more evident every day. His preferences stand out, as well as his dislikes. It is so amazing to watch him grow into his own person but so bittersweet. I still can't bring myself to pack up the basinett. I still look at it at night and it twinges at my heart. I know I say this every month, but seriously, where the hell does the time go?

Friday, September 25, 2009

I'm A PC

The majority of Isaac's family lives thousands of miles away. We knew that it was going to be rough on everyone, having the first grandchild, nephew, great grandchild, so far away. And we knew that having a baby would put a hinderance on the amount of time and money we could spend traveling.

In a effort to make things a little better, Ben and I purchased web cams for both sets of our parents last Christmas. That way, they can see the baby and vice versa. And it started right away. Like, when I was in labor at the hospital right away. Everyone saw the baby hours after he was born.

It was hard when Isaac was itty bitty newborn size, and even before he could sit up unsupported (oh, did I mention he has been doing that for weeks now?). It is way more fun now because he can focus on the computer screen and what is moving on it. And he even does tricks.

Well kinda. :)

Anyway, he has become quite adept and I think he needs to be on one of those windows commercials. :) Something like:

"Hi. My name is Isaac. My family lives real far far away from me. My mommy and daddy need a good computer that has lots of memory and a fast processor because everyone needs to see the thousands of photos they take of me. And they gotta see me in action, so it needs a built in webcam with wireless capabilities cause I move real real fast and they have to follow me around.

I'm a PC. And I'm 8 months!" I just sit back and wait for the contract to come in right?! :) Who do I call about this?


Time goes really really fast.

I mean, duh, right?

But seriously, it goes really fast.

And I feel like ever since Isaac was born, it has upped it's speed of passing several thousand notches. There is never enough time anymore. I need about 10 more hours in my day.

I used to be hyper-organized and motivated. And now I am just...not. It's not that I don't try to be. It's like something gets lost in translation between me and my mind. I have millions of things that I need to do, and technically have time to do, I just can't focus.

It's wasting time. Seriously wasting time. Time that is flying by. Time that I don't have to waste.

It's sloppy. And I hate it.

I have always been an advocate for changing what you are not happy with in your life (Ok, not always, I had a few blips...but that's another story). I don't feeling like I don't have any control over my life. I don't like that most days I have zero motivation. It tells me something is drastically wrong.

I am not happy with the way things are going. I know there are some things I can't change and don't have control of at this point. I am trying to learn to relax and just not harp on some things. Like when something goes awry and I have to have it fixed RIGHT NOW and I can't focus on anything else until it's taken care of. This usually happens on a Friday evening and involves parties that cannot be reached until Monday.

I can't blame PPD for everything. It's only part of the problem. And I refuse to be defined by it. It doesn't change who I am.

I used to be really good at balancing. I color-coded my planner. I was a wiz at time management. I mean, I could teach 2 bio labs, do my thesis research, take my own classes, work almost full time, plan my wedding, and maintain my apartment and relationships.

I can't do that anymore. I have cobwebs in my kitchen that have their own cobwebs. I have clothes in bags that haven't been touched since they were purchased. I haven't talked to some of my friends in what feels like centuries.

My brain goes in 50 million directions at once. I am not sure if it is sleep deprivation on top of PPD on top of something else on top of something else. For example, while pumping I was thinking about the proposal that needs to go out next week, what I need to do for Mary Kay, what I can make for dinner, that I still have to order Isaac's photo prints, all while trying to catch up on blogs (on my blackberry) and singing a song in my head that has been stuck there all day.

I want my motivation back. I don't want to be wasting time, letting precious moments slip by untouched. They could be spent doing things way more constructive, relaxing, or with my baby. They could be filled with a million things that they are not.

I often change my mind on which direction I want my life to go, who I want to be. It changes as my life changes. It changes to accomodate new things.

I have some ideas on what I want next.

No more wasted time.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Dear Victoria's Secret

Dear Victoria's Secret:

For 5 years, I worked for you. I sang your product praises. I sold your credit card. I worked long hours training your employees all across the board, setting your floorsets to perfection and prepping visits, reviewing numbers and learning product information. I worked your insane schedule that involved coming into work at 4 am and other times leaving at 4 am. I had your required 24/7 open availability and accepted your 4 month holiday blackout period. For 5 years, you owned me. And I was fine with it. I thought you were a fantastic company that took care of its own. I defended your integrity because I believe that your employees mattered. I believed we weren't just numbers. I made some of my greatest friends through working for your company. I believed in your products and developed a brand loyalty that was very strong. In my opinion, no one made a seamless pushup bra that was invisible under clothes better than you. I would have bought it whether or not Adri.ana was wearing it.

Even when I left to pursue other endeavors, I was still loyal. I was still blind.

For the friends that remain in your clutches afraid of retribution, I speak up. For those who don't, I stand beside in solidarity.

I understand the nation is in a state of economic crisis. Sales are down everywhere, and companies are making cuts to save money and as many jobs as possible. When I heard the news that your company was doing the same, I understood. The retail market has been hit hard, and layoffs were undoubtedly inevitable as were pay cuts. I listened as calls came from friends when they learned news of their positions and pay. I gave hugs to those who were devastated by the loss of their employment and wages.

I was certain that in this time that was so harsh on everyone involved that your company would show remorse for having to let go those who had dedicated their lives to meeting your demands.

Several weeks ago, I heard the announcement of the annual MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR Fashion Show.

POOR TASTE, Victoria's Secret. EXTREMELY poor taste. It sickens me to think that producing a show that costs so many people their salaries and jobs is on your list of priorities. It seems to me that what would help your revenues is not watching a highly overpaid supermodel strut down an overpriced runway wearing something that is "kind of but not really" available in stores, but a knowledgeable, friendly employee dedicated to their position in your stores. It would be more beneficial to keep your employees to develop and sell your product. It is rubbing salt into fresh wounds. When those models hit the runway this year, they are further stomping down every single employee that was let go or had their salary cut. They are literally kicking them when they are down.

To me, a past employee and consumer, I can no longer walk into one of your stores without seeing lavish and unnecessary expenses. Is your expensive packaging necessary? Sure, its nice. How many people were let go so you could still afford that packaging, that was only to be thrown away? How am I supposed to work with this snooty little girl who could care less about her job and was hired only because she came with a cheaper price tag wage?

Your image is fading. The brand name that commanded such respect before has diminished in my eyes. I no longer respect you. Your world-wide known logo no longer portrays class and enterprise. It symbolizes greed and dishonesty.
Your integrity as a company is shattered in my eyes. Your logo sickens me. I am angry at your insensitivity and cruelty. Clearly, the blood, sweat and tears that so many put into you mean nothing and continue to go unrecognized and unappreciated. It becomes more and more apparent that the driving force behind this company is corporate creed.

We were and will always be just numbers to you. Workhorses that pad your pockets and those of your supermodels. Nothing more.

And now that pushup bra remains unsold somewhere in your store because there is no one to stock it and sell it to me. You got rid of them.

Truely Yours No More,

Monday, September 21, 2009

Dear Tooth Fairy

Dear Tooth Fairy:

Listen up, lady...I have gotten no sleep over the past 3 days. Maybe 6 hours in total. I mean I have been so tired, I almost put my frequent frozen yogurt card through the wash! Then you really would be getting an earful.

So, I can tell you don't have children of your own. Otherwise I don't think it would take MONTHS OF AGONY for a little bitty baby to cut ONE FREAKIN' TOOTH! This is the story in my household. Finally, after months of drool, countless bottles of tylenol and motrin, vials upon vials, of teething tablets, endless sleepless nights of comforting a teething, miserable child, and one holistic remedy, my precious little boy has his first tooth! I know this only because yesterday, he bit me so hard and I felt the little razor. Then I had to hold him down and weasel my finger into this little aching mouth to verify my discovery. That was a pleasant experience in itself.

For the tooth, I thank you.

And this I beg of you...tomorrow morning when I wake up, can Isaac have like, 6 or 7 more teeth? I mean, cut me a break here. Throw me a bone. Otherwise I make no promises about my child believing in you...and we all know what happens when a child says he doesn't believe in fairies, right?

Ok, glad we are on the same page now.

One Tired Mommy

Friday, September 18, 2009

When Enough Isn't Enough

Yesterday was a bad day.

It wasn't a bad day just because Isaac didn't feel good, and when he doesn't feel good, he doesn't sleep well. When he doesn't sleep well, I don't sleep well.

It wasn't just a bad day because it was 10million degrees outside and the neighbors dogs were running rampant through my yard and barking, preventing Isaac from taking his nap and I'll be damned if I was going out there to send them on their merry way while they are covered in dirt and a mysterious water like substance and look down right rabid and like carriers of H1N1 (haven't had that vaccination, thanks).

I woke up to a black cloud. I couldn't help it. It was just one of those days. Some days I wake up in an amazingly sugary happy you would want to slap me if you were around me moods. And others. Nope. Not even close.

Yesterday was one of those days where no matter what I do, how little or how much, how hard or not I try, I end up crying for hours on end and feeling like a failure. And once I start crying, I can't stop. I cry about everything, even the fact that I am crying and because I am crying I can't be the type of mother I want to be to my son. He sits in the play pen and stares at me, confused and concerned so I have to pop in Handy Manny or Baby Einstein or something and retreat into the back of the house or the kitchen. And it just descends from there. It's pulling at the preverbial thread. Everything unravels, and it unravels quickly.

We drove to pediatrician in to get the 1st flu shot, and a song on my ipod set me off. That's what really started the tears. And the only time I have for phone calls on days like these are when we are in the car and Isaac is contained. No one answered. That made me cry harder. And I know that my friends weren't ignoring me. And I don't ever like to sound full of desperation in voicemails. Everyone has their lives that go on. It is mine that seems to be at a stand still and moving too fast all at once.

I felt all alone and overcrowded at once. I was jealous of friends' freedom and frivolity and independence. I was resentful of being tied down with a baby so I couldn't be that way. And then I felt horrible for feeling that way and I cried harder.

Everything felt like a blow. A parking ticket bill that came in the mail turned me irrate at my husband, who thankfully wasn't around for me to cut up. A broken glass in the sink. The aforementioned rabid dogs. A telemarketer that got an earfull respect and tact.

It was a day where nothing makes it better. No amount of talking, or distraction. It dragged on forever and ever. I craved any form of relief, just a little escape from being stuck in my own head that screams at me what a horrible mother I am and how much I hate myself for being me from one side and the rational other side that tells me to chill the %$&# out and breathe and that everything will be just fine.

It was a day when no matter what anyone tried to do for me was enough. Nothing helped. It made every single step of progress I made to becoming a healthier person seem fruitless and worthless. Because that is how I felt. I craved just a second of relief. I just wanted to be someone else for a minute. Just a minute. Preferably someone who was sleeping. (Note: PPD apparently is a type of depression that makes you exhausted but you can't be depressed in bed all day. Makes it suck more.) It made all the days that I felt happy and more like myself seem so far off and like they never happened. It kicked me back down.

Anyone that doesn't think Post Partum Depression exists or is a serious thing can kiss my @)*$.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Patience Is A Kitty Virtue

These are my furry children. Guiliani Rufus and Princess Layla Penelope. They love to sit a the windows and watch the birds, small woodland creatures, turkeys, peacocks (yes, we have wild peacocks running around), and neighborhood cats run around the yard. Before Isaac was born, I was pretty worried as to how they would adapt. Especially Guiliani.

Guiliani was my first baby. Seriously. And he is a Mama's Boy and proud of it. He went all BAT $#%@ CRAZY when I brought Layla into the house. He was actually fine with her. Just not with me. He was beyond angry at me for bringing another cat into his house in which he reigned as king. Whenever I would do anything with Layla, he would hiss at me. I remember when I brought her home, he sniffed the carrier, looked directly in my eyes, hissed and gave me a look that clearly said "what the hell did you do?!" Because of this reaction and our mommy-kitty bond, I was a little worried how he would react to the baby. I mean, the cat sleeps on my head...or back....or legs....pretty much whatever he can get to. And he follows me around.

Turns out I really didn't have anything to worry about....

And just fyi, that is my 9 day old newborn (see how big the binky is? as I sob quietly at how fast he's grown)

They turned into naptime pals and their sleepy-time relationship continued to grow....

(Note: you'll notice that there are no more pictures of Layla. This is because to this day she chooses to pretend that Isaac does not actually exist. True story)

Anyway, he and Isaac were all buddy-buddy. And then one day Isaac seemed to realize "Hey! That little black thing moves! It makes noise! I want to grab it!"

That marked the beginning of this:

He's been pretty good about it. And truthfully, so has Layla. Isaac loves to grab at them. We are trying to teach him to "pet the kitty nice." And he tries sometimes. Most times, petting them involves grabbing fistfulls of fur (and skin) and yanking.

Both Layla and Guiliani handle it remarkably well. As opposed to me, who when Isaac grabs a handful of my hair and yanks may or may not scream in pain and yell curse words (not at the baby...I don't swear at him. Just at the painful situation). They usually just sit there and take it. It's like they understand he's a baby and doesn't know any better. And if I did that, you can bet I would have scratches all over my arms.


Which I surely do not have a lot of. I have never been very patient, but I am learning to be more so because of the baby. But just with the baby. With my husband, yeah not so much.

Guiliani is also very patient during those sleepless night as I pace up and down the hall, bouncing a wide-awake, ready to party baby back to sleep. He simply lays on the rug or back of the couch, waiting for me to put Isaac back in his crib so we can return to the bed and he can resume his position on my head. Or back. Or legs.

He hasn't been getting alot of sleep these days either, so most days he ends up looking like this:

Again, levels of patience that I, myself do not demonstrate as illustrated by the late night begging I do, pleading Isaac to just go back to sleep for another few hours.

However, as Isaac can now move himself toward the kitties as they slumber peacefully, they are becoming increasingly wary of them. It is only a matter of time before he is chasing them with a little plastic bat! (Note: I will not encourage this behavior. But it's bound to happen. I can already see it)

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Great Debate

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate, that is my question.

Isaac goes to daycare. And he loves it. He loves Miss K and the other kids. I love having him go there, most times. Sometimes I miss him too much, when work is slow.

Anyway, one of Miss K's kids (her biological child, not a daycare charge) is sick. Like, really sick. And although her kid is not contagious anymore and I know she sanitizes and sterilizes the crap out of every single surface in the daycare, I worry about my little man. Ben and I talked about keeping him home until Thursday, which would be the first day both of us absolutely HAD to work and would be forced to take him there. We decided against it. Ben went to the DMV today and we all know what kind of disease-festering place that is, so Isaac is actually better off at daycare. Gross, unhealthy people covered in dirt and germs allowing their vagrant children to run rampant around that tiny little cubicle they call an office at the DMV. (Note: I do not think all people at the DMV are like this. Some of them are really clean. And nice. But seriously, do YOU really like to go to the DMV? If you do, stop reading this. You are hereby banned from my blog.)

Because of the constant outbreaks of H1N1 and other mysterious sicknesses plaguing the world, the topic of whether or not to get Isaac several option vaccinations has come up. I say optional because they are not mandated by the State or required for him to attend a daycare. I am not talking polio or DtAP or MMR. Such a vaccine is the flu shot.

You know I hate getting my baby poked. Its traumatizing, probably more so for me and the nurse who almost gets cut for making my precious baby scream like that. And I have never in my life had a flu shot. EVER. But those were the days when getting the flu meant staying home from school for a day or two, couch ridden while watching Nickelodeon and sucking down popsicles. It is way more serious nowadays, probably because there are 20 gazillion different strains of influenza and a flu vaccinates like 4 of them? And then there is all the talk of RESISTANT strains of viruses. Let's not get into that now.

But....I don't want my baby to get sick. Not only for my sanity, because let's face it, while Ben has input that is heavily considered, bottom line is I am the one that would stay up all night and home with a sick child, but because I don't ever want my baby to be in pain or to be sick or suffering in the slightest.

Plus he's in daycare. And its a daycare that includes children who go to school with other children, who get sick for a multitude of reasons.

And he does go to disease-ridden places like the DMV from time to time. Don't even get me started on the cleanliness of Tar.get (where I literally stepped on human feces while preggo). I AM NOT A PSYCHO MOM WHO IS A GERMOPHOBE. I realize there is only so much I can do, and yes I wipe down the carts with the lysol wipes and such. But I am not going to keep him in a protective bubble. Kids get sick. Fact of life.

I called my pediatrician's office today to get their take. I like the nurse I spoke with, she's cool (unless making my baby cry, see above). She didn't try to push me in one direction or the other, just listened to my situation. And then explained that the H1N1 vaccination could not be given unless he had the regular flu vaccination. The H1N1 is not available until mid-October, so if I want it for him, he needs to start the regular shot so he can get the booster so he can get the H1N1 in November. Sigh.

I made the snap decision to get the flu shot. It seems like the wisest decision, right? As for H1N1...I am still undecided. I have been scouring the CDC website all day. I guess I have til November to decide on that.

The next conundrum that rears it's ugly face is the Chicken Pox vaccine.

I had the chicken pox as a child. Sure, it sucked and I itched like no other and still have a scar or two on my tummy. But again, I was out of school for a while and I don't remember much else. And I won't get any form of the pox again. EVER.

I am not sure this vaccination can make the same promise to my son. I am thinking of resistant chicken pox strains from space. Overreacting? Yeah, probably. But I am a mother. That's in the job description right?

Would it be horrible to let him get chicken pox and itch his way to a garunteed pox free life? Hmmm, I don't think so. And I am planning to control the itching like Monica did in Fri.ends with oven mitts and duct tape.

HOWEVER. My husband does not remember if he's had the pox. And it is very serious in grown men if they get it. Serious like Isaac would be an only child from what I understand.

Once I learned that, yeah. That will be the determining factor. How do you not remember something like that?

Purell, anyone?

Monday, September 14, 2009

Seasons Change

Seasons are way different in California than those in the magical midwest. The humidity is less extreme (understatement...for the most part it is nonexistant and I can walk around outside without my hair looking like Monica's in Barbados), and the winter's are marked by rain. And it doesn't just rain, it RAINS. FOR DAYS. WITHOUT STOPPING. This starts around October-ish. And once December and January roll around it has been known to rain for weeks. The summers are dry, dry, dry.

So imagine my surprise when I woke up at 4am Saturday morning to thunderstorms. I knew something woke me up. I could hear water outside and didn't want to open my eyes.

"Hmmmm did the gardener reprogram the sprinklers again? What time is it? I feel Isaac next to me, so it must be after 1 am."

BOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM! My eyes shoot open.

"Holy moly! What was that?! Are we being bombed? Was that an earthquake? Is that what the big one sounds like? Did I put enough diapers in the earthquake kit?"

BOOOOOOOOMMMMMM! CRRAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKK! I see a flash outside the window.

"Is this the apocalypse? What is going on?! Should I wake Ben?"

Slowly I came to my senses and realized it was a thunderstorm. An honest to goodness thunderstorm that made me homesick for the midwest. Isaac was sleeping peacefully and didn't even stir when I put him back in his crib. I got up to pump and listened to the rain and booms. (I also thought about whether or not the County was out sampling, just because I work in that world and all I can think about is Stormwater Pollution sometimes.)

It was a little early for rainy season. But I will take it. I love the rain. I love to stay inside all warm and snuggly.

It was still raining when Isaac woke me up at 7ish. We did our normal "At home with Mommy" morning routine and were back down for what turned out to be a lovely 3 and a half hour nap by 9. When I woke up, yep still raining.

And I was kind of at a loss as to what to do.

Before Isaac was born, my favorite thing to do in the rain was to make hot chocolate and popcorn and curl up on the couch in my big blanket and watch movies (You've Got Mail, Serendipity, The Holiday, In Her Shoes....that kind). Hmmm, Isaac was not going to stand for that.

I really didn't want to take him out in the rain. Toting a baby around that is dripping wet is no fun. I was suddenly struck by another way my life had changed. (I know I could have reverted back to my go-to rainy day behavior while Isaac was snoozing. But I wanted to nap.)

It still amazes me how much my life has changed because of one little person, who, by the way, loved watching the rain through the window from his jumperoo (which is right in front of the big windows on my house). He was so fascinated, he forgot to jump. Baby's first thunderstorms. You always know your life will change when you have a baby. You just never know exactly how much. Everyday, I am just hit with little things that are no longer the same.

I still made hot chocolate though :)

Thursday, September 10, 2009

There's a First Time for Everything

I am so excited to say that for the first time, my husband and I (and Isaac of course) will be taking our first vacation as a family, the first vacation that does not involve, a wedding, or our families!

Don't get me wrong, we ABSOLUTELY love to go back and visit our families and we are always thrilled when they come to visit. And I love to be a part of my friend's weddings and to help them with their special time.

But we need to get away as a family, just us. We need to go somewhere we want to go, and to not feel obligated to go anywhere or see anyone.

We decided to take this vacation over my fabulous 5 day weekend, which was referred to as a vacation. Um, no. I still had to clean, make dinner, etc. Therefore, it was not a vacation...just like a mini break from work. Oh, it was fabulous. But NOT a vacation by any means.

I booked the flights today! We will be escaping to Nort.h Caro.lina in December for 4 days! (NOTE: the actual trip is actually 6 days...flying takes up alot of time. And Isaac needs layovers when we are literally going coast to coast.) I know it is a ways away, but it was really the soonest we can finangle. And the longest. Yes, we are THAT busy and booked up.


Tuesday, September 8, 2009


Right after Isaac was born, I would often feel the "phantom" kicks and hiccups in my belly. When he would curl up on my chest, I just knew that is what he looked like when he was en utero.

I haven't felt them in a while. Then the other day, I did. Maybe it was just gas bubbles or something, but I was instantly transported back to the days when I had a big baby belly. And I felt some pangs of sadness.

Isaac came three weeks early. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely glad he came early, cause I was getting mighty uncomfy.

But I kind of wanted those three weeks. He came so suddenly, I didn't really have a chance to prepare. I was planning on doing a lot of things over those three weeks. And I really wanted the time to mentally prepare and rest up. I wanted to close out my pregnancy. Does that make sense? I was ready for him, but I wasn't. I just really wanted those three weeks and for some reason it really gets to me that I didn't.

I loved being pregnant. I loved having my baby as a part of me, completely and 100% dependent on me and let's face it, completely and 100% mine at that time (possession is 9/10 of the law right? :) ). I loved being able to feel him and I used to dream about what my boy would look like. I loved feeling him move in me.

I don't know why it makes me sad and I don't know why it bothers me so much. Is it possible that I am having these bouts of PPD because of Isaac came early?

Monday, September 7, 2009

Monday is Daddy Daycare Day!

Monday's are Daddy Daycare Days. Just because it is a holiday and I am off work doesn't change that. I managed to swing a 5 day weekend over this holiday because I only work 4 days a week now, and the girl who covers when I am gone is going away this next week on the days I normally take off. Henvce I endedup with Tuesday off. Friday through Tuesday.

And since it is a Daddy Daycare, and Mommy is off of work...I GOT TO SLEEP IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love my husband. :)

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Momma's Baby Boy

 think he's my baby? :)


Isaac has been a football fan since birth. No, really. It's true. At 5 days, he was already throwing up his arms for touchdowns.

See? That's even his OSU baby fleece blanket. (PS, that is a NEWBORN onesie hanging off of him! Sob. My baby!)

Ok, so he may have been a little too small to understand what he was doing. And, ok, he probably still is. But he's a Buckeye Baby. And yesterday was the first OSU football game of the season and that meant we had spirit! Since Daddy had to work, we had to wear OSU jammies.

We DVRed the game so Ben could watch it, and he was thrilled when Isaac woke up just before he sat down to watch it (Me, not so much. It was 8:45.) Anyway, he was so excited, I let Isaac stay up an extra 30 minutes to watch some football with his Dad.

You know, that's why Dad's want boys! :) To have a football buddy. And he's got plenty of Buckeye Baby clothes to wear for all the games. And a special one for the Michigan game, coem November. :) Don't even get me started on his halloween costume. :)

Isaac enjoyed it. He liked the whistles. Ben was thrilled he got his first Father-Son Football game. They were both THRILLED when I pulled their attention away for a picture. Thank goodness we have the ability to pause. :) And Guiliani likes the games too. He tries to follow the football on the screen. Seriously.

And the Buckeyes won! :) Isaac wasn't up for that part, he was back asleep by 9:30. We had to have a whole conversation about how to watch football while the baby is sleeping, SCREAMING at the TV and no loud cheers and claps. When I was pregnant last season, I swear every time Ben would yell, Isaac jumped in my belly. SWEAR.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Isaac and the Swings

We have been taking Isaac to local parks in the evenings to get him (and us) some fresh air. One park has a nice long walking trail, horse trail, and dog park. The other has a creek and pond (that I fell into while sampling for work), baseball fields and swimming pool, and rose garden. Both have swings, of course.

And Isaac LOVES the swings. LOOOOOVVVVVEEEEES them! He laughs and shrieks and smiles while Ben or I gently push him. He seems so small in the swing and I am still afraid he is going to smack his face on the front of it, so I put a blankie in front of him. Plus, let's face it. The swings are dirty. I don't want his mouth on them.

Last night we even ventured down the slide. I got some dirty looks from a crotchety old grandma who seemed to think that Isaac was too small for the swings and slide and that the whole playground was for her grandchildren.

And those little shoes he is wearing? Robeez! LOVE THEM! Those are blue with sharks on them. I have been scouring ebay for more. I refuse to buy my baby a $30+ pair of crib shoes.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Isaac and the Fire Trucks

A while back, Ben and I offered up our house for volunteer firefighter training. They just wanted to have different houses to assess and to come up with fire safety plans if our house or one like it was on fire (knock on wood). My only stipluation was that Isaac could get a picture with the fire trucks. :)

And he loved them! There were 2 medium sized trucks with the ladders and hoses, you know the typical red fire trucks. There were a bunch of smaller diesel pick ups too. Ok, they weren't ALL at my house...some of my neighbors had volunteered as well.

Isaac was absolutely fascinated by the lights and sounds of the exhaust and engines. We walked around and looked at them and he got to touch some of the equipment.

A few days ago, we received a "thank you" note from the fire cheif, and it said we could bring Isaac to the station whenever we wanted to. We will definately do that when he is a bit bigger! :)

I wonder if they have a dalmation???? :)