Miss

I did really well on the National Blog Posting Month. :( This weekend, not so much. I missed 3 days out of 30. That's not so bad right?

This holiday just took alot out of me. I was home for 4 days, and Isaac was teething. He's a teething BEAR. 4 teeth at once. 2 broke the skin, just waiting for the other two which have caused huge bulges in his gums. We need sleep. All of us.

I will have some posts up soon, to make up for the lack of posts in the past 3 days. For now, I want to give a shout out to Miss Daniela, who incidently is watching Isaac today (long story, husband goofed and she saved his butt).

I have known her for about 4 years now, I think. She has been an awesome friend and support system ever since we bonded in the windows of VS doing their insane holiday floorsets. She has adorable little boys, her 3 year old and her 18 month twins. She just started a blog here. Stop on over and check her out, leave her some love. She deserves it!

Seriously, I would have lost my mind by now if not for her.

Blessings

Becoming a mother changed my life, obviously for the better. And on this day of thanks, I find it only fitting to say thank you to the little man who made it possible. He has taught me to be thankful on a whole other level, a level I didn't know I had. I see blessings more and more in my life evey single day, simply because I am a mother.

To my precious baby boy, Happy 1st Thanksgiving! I am thankful for all you have given me. I am thankful for your cuddles and smiles. I am thankful for your health and happiness. I am even thankful for your screams. Most of all, I am thankful to be your Mommy.

Ol' Skool

My husband and I finished Isaac's Christmas shopping a few weeks ago. Thinking about going near a toy store or department store anytime around the holidays in this metropolitan area when I worked 5 years of retail gives me anxiety and makes me want to hide in the closet until January. I wanted to get it done, and I didn't mind spending a few extra dollars for my sanity. We had a pretty good idea of what we wanted to get him, so we left him with Uncle C and set off for the dreaded TRU and Tar.get (Note: normally I love Ta.rget. Just not at the holidays).

Ben and I grew up without video gaming systems and without TVs in our rooms. We didn't have alot of electronic toys. What we did have was something called "IMAGINATION." This is one of the most important things I want my son to have. We chose our gifts based on that concept.

It was kinda difficult. While I appreciate the educational aspects of some of today's electronic toys, I feel a lot of them are unneccessary. Sure, Le.ap Fro.g is a wonderful concept, but I grew up without it, and hey, I can say my ABCs forward and backward. I can count. I know my colors. I can't speak for him, but I am pretty sure my husband can too... :)

Even some of the newer versions of toys we played with as children are all jazzed up. It some ways, it was kind of sad to see what they had evolved into.

I just don't really know why it's necessary. Sure, some of those toys are downright cool. And I am not saying that Isaac doesn't have some of them. If one day he asks me for that 3 foot robotic dinosaur, I just might buy it. I guess it's just to keep up with the market, right?

I guess it just makes me a little sad. It makes me sad to think that there are parents out there that believe that these toys can be substitutes for actual human contact, teaching your own child. I understand that not all parents have the time they want to spend with their child. I don't. But at the same time, I want him to learn and discover and imagine on his own.

I miss the ol' skool toys. I miss the FP barn that made that little mooing sound when you opened the double doors and that was it. The chicken didn't cluck. The tractor didn't rumble. I still knew what sounds those respective items made.

And Oh. My. Goodness. It was darn near IMPOSSIBLE to find dishes for Isaac that were coverd in pink and flowers. My million dollar idea? Gender-neutral dishes for children. Without having to buy a big kitchen apparatus. Isaac loves dishes. LOVES THEM. All we wanted were some plates and maybe a bowl and a pan or two. Seriously. My idea. I claim it. And if you already made these dishes, where the heck are you selling them?!

We spent a good hour and a half walking the aisles, looking for things that we wanted (Note: part of the problem was not just lack of what we wanted, but that my husband did not seem to grasp the concept of "age appropriate" toys).

I am satisfied with what we got him. Some of the toys are indeed electronic. And some of them were toys we played with as children, ordered vintage off Eba.y.

Yep, we are taking our baby back to the ol' skool....because we're ol' fools who are so cool... :)

To Tree or Not to Tree

That is my question.

Remember how I love Christmas? And that I didn't get a tree last year? :(

I was completely planning on getting a tree this year. I have so many new ornaments that must be displayed, since I have had almost 2 years to collect them. And I have a good amount of "baby-safe" ornaments that he can pull off the tree.

And then someone said that unless I have a baby gate around the tree, I should rethink it, period.

WHAT?!

I talked about it with Ben. It kinda makes sense. I can see my baby pulling the tree down...over, and over, and over.... He's a pretty strong kid.

Sigh. So now I face a major conundrum (Did I use that word correctly? I hope so! It sounded fun and I wanted to use it. :) )

We talked about nixing the tree this year. Not the best option in my opinion. Another option is to block it with a baby gate of sorts, but we really don't have the space. I wouldn't want the gate right around the tree, just surrounding the area. I am not even sure how that would work. I would essentially be creating a "tree room" in my living room. A third option is to anchor the tree. Either with an exceptionally heavy and sturdy base, or to tether the tree to the wall or ceiling. This option is the one that gets my vote.

But I don't really know what that entails either. Or if it would be too much work and trouble.

I had a hard enough time without a Christmas tree last year. I already have to forego the snow (The only downfall of Cali.fornia weather. It just doesn't seem like Christmas without snow. And to be clear I don't like blizzard amounts. Just enough to make it a white Christmas. And only at Christmas.).

I really, really, want my tree.

D.O.N.E.

On Thursday I will have been breastfeeding for 10 months. 10 rewarding, exhilarating, exhausting months.

My original goal was to breastfeed solidly for a year. I also wanted a completely natural childbirth, but plans change (hello, epidural!). Secretly, I was praying to make it to 9 months.

I have made the decision to stop pumping after we get home from vacation. At that point Isaac will be about 2 weeks shy of 11 months (gulp). I will only nurse him in the morning and at night. He will get one breastmilk bottle a day and one formula bottle. When the breastmilk runs out, he will be getting 2 formula bottles a day. At that point we will begin to phase in whole cow's milk.

I made this decision for a few reasons.

1. Isaac is about done with nursing. He is totally not interested in it during the day. He doesn't want to nurse for as long, he turns away and tries to sit up. He is much more interested in his food at mealtimes. Even if I tried to nurse him before his meals, he does the same thing. He is making it quite clear he is ready to move on.

2. I hate pumping. I do it for my baby, and that is the only thing that keeps me doing it: His little happy, full of food and content face. In the past month, my milk supply has started to diminish. When I came back to work, I had to pump 3 times per day. And my boobs told me I had to pump three times a day. Slowly that went from 3 to 2. I was still pumping 3 times a day at the beginning of November. I was trying to up the supply. And it worked. About 2 weeks ago, I went down to 2. That's pretty much when Isaac said "yeah, I am kinda over this, Mom. Where's my sippy cup?!" Now, I can skate by on just one pumping session.

3. This is completely selfish, but pumping has become inconvenient. Sigh. Yep. Work is busy, I have been in the field more often. Isaac and I have play dates, and I have more of a social life again. I have been taking classes and training. Lugging around Miss Medela is rough. And, Medela, while I appreciate the sleek design of your bags, you just can't glamorize pumping in the back seat of your car in a parking garage in the city. It is becoming harder and harder to find the opportunities to pump on days like that.

So yeah. Kinda done.

I am sad. I am excited for the next phase. I am slightly disappointed.

But I am mostly proud of myself and Isaac for making it this far.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I love the Holiday season. I love Thanksgiving, because I love to cook and bake. But I love Christmas more.

I love everything about Christmas. I love the music on the radio. I love buying and wrapping gifts. I have a serious addiction to Christmas ornaments.

I am making Isaac his own stocking.

We are far away from our family, and we aren't able to go back east for the holidays. This has happened before. It's expensive. It's cold. And it is hard on a baby. We aren't able to be around alot of our family for Christmas.

It is important to me that we have our own traditions as a family. I want Isaac to enjoy the holiday season as much as I do. I want him to recognize it as a happy time, full of joy and love and giving.

Something I have always loved is baking Christmas cookies and giving them to friends and family. It started the first year I was out here. I love giving gifts and we had no money. It seemed like a cost effective way to give something to all the people we worked with and friends. It just grew from there. I started making more and more kinds. My record is 21 kinds of cookies.

Seriously.

Christmas Cookie weekend has become a tradition for me. I didn't get to do it last year because we had just moved, and I was preggers and went to Ohio for my baby shower over the only weekend possible to do it properly (I didn't have a tree either. :( )

This year, I am going to start it up again. Not in such grand scale, but I will make a few easy kinds. And I will let Isaac help. He loves dishes. He loves to bang on my pots and pans with spoons. He loves to bite on my rubber spatulas.

It is a tradition I can't wait to share with my son. :)

For Anissa

I don't personally know Anissa.

I found her blog through a blogroll of a blog on another blogroll....and so on. I was instantly drawn to her wit and sassiness. I began to follow her at Aiming Low and Twitter. I have never met her, but I have a story that I would love to tell her.

One day I read a tweet from her that commented on TNT's cleverness at censorship. She made a remark about how they edited one of Sam.uel L. Jack.son's lines from "Sn.akes on a P.lane." to something about "monkey fighting snakes" since it was on primetime. Gotta keep it clean for the kiddies. Clever, huh?

We exchange a few comments about how SLJ was himself, one bad "monkey fighter." It made me laugh.

A few weeks later, Isaac and I were in the local grocery. He was riding in the cart, squealing like he always does, laughing, swinging his legs, and drawing the attention of other customers, especially women. One woman approached the cart and said to him and me "Isn't he just a little monkey fighter!"

Umm.....I must have looked shocked to no end, enraged, and horrified. The woman took a step back, and just as I was about to retaliate, I looked at Isaac.

He was wearing camo pants with a matching shirt that had a monkey on it. And monkey shoes.

Oh. I got it.

Deep breath. I laughed it off and said to her "why yes, I guess he does look like a member of an army of monkeys."

I just couldnt' bring myself to call my sweet baby a "monkey fighter."

I was shocked and saddened to hear what had happened to Anissa. I hope she gets better soon so I can share this with her!

A Flaw In The System

I gave up trying to keep my floor clean. I sweep it once a day. I could sweep it 20 times a day, and it would make no difference. It's like a moth to a flame.

Isaac would still manage to find the one piece of dirt I missed and it would end up in his mouth.

With two cats and a husband who leaves stuff all over, the floor gets pretty bad. And all the flooring is hardwood. The cats scratch the heck out of their scratching pads and kitty condo, which incidently are Isaac's favorite things to put in this mouth: catnip paper and carpet strands.

It is not uncommon for me to yell "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" about 50 times before 9 am.

Which he think is H-I-LARIOUS.

The most commonly used phrases in our household these days are "Isaac, what's in your mouth, NOW?!" and "Do not put that in your mouth, Isaac!"

It's hard to contain him. He loves his mobility and has the attention span of about 20-30 minutes. It takes me forever to get ready for work and daycare in the morning because I can only keep him contained in the playpen for about 20 minutes because the bored screams begin. I close the doors to every room except his (and the bathroom, because that is where I am getting ready) and let him crawl back and forth down the hall from his room to the living room where his toys are. There is a long runner in the hallway, so it is really the living room where the trouble begins. My kitchen has two doorways but if I leave the light off, he misses the hallway entrance.

When it goes quiet, I know there is something happening that should not be.

This morning, in the span of 20 minutes, Isaac managed to have my shoes, dried catfood, and creme de la creme...my husband's underwear off the bathroom floor.

Backtrack: I have yelled at my husband many times about leaving his t-shirt, boxers, and socks on the floor after his shower. He manages to hang up his pjs, but something about walking the extra feet to the hamper proves too much to handle in the morning. I don't get it. Even now, that his schedule has been adjusted so his has more time in the morning, the clothes still lay on the floor. His system of cleaning up after himself generally involves him picking up these said items in the evening, after 3 or 4 days worth have piled up, or not at all because his wife can't take it anymore and does it for him.

So this morning, a certain husband received this text: If having your wife ask you a million times to pick your stuff up off the bathroom floor was not a good enough reason, maybe this will do it: YOUR SON JUST HAD YOUR BOXERS IN HIS MOUTH.

And so we shall see>>>>

(NOTE: I was not able to stop this horrendous act of my child. He's FAST. And sneaky. I left the bathroom for 2 seconds to get my deodorant and he scooted in behind me. Actually, he did it so fast, I think he beamed in. Again, it was the silence that alerted me to the act. Sigh. This is also a mother FAIL. )

You Complete Me

Certain things happen in life and they change you.


When I was 15, my birth father committed suicide. I was young. I was sad. I was confused. And I didn't know how to deal with it. So I didn't. I didn't know him very well, but I knew him enough to know what I would miss and what I was going to miss as my life went on. And I knew I was angry. But I didn't really let it change me.


Then when I was a sophomore in college, one of my best friends committed suicide. It was different this time. He made it personal to me, and made it so I was isolated in my grief in a way no one else would be. I won't rehash or give any more details than that because it isn't the point of this post. But once I entered into that phase, I was suddenly dealing with both incidents. I did what I had to do to feel better RIGHT THEN. It wasn't always pretty. It wasn't always the nicest thing. And it changed me. I don't know if I let it, or I couldn't stop it or what. But that incident and the aftermath changed me.

I had and continue to have amazing friends. Friends that didn't understand what happened, or that didn't understand how I was dealing, but stuck by me anyway. They watched me change and they supported me how I needed. I know they didn't understand why I harped on the things I did, and why I couldn't let go of some things, and why I made things into bigger things than they really were. I don't think I understood either. I look back on it, and all I can say is "you do what you need to do to get through it." And I did. But I wasn't who I remembered.

I struggled to find myself again. I couldn't be the person I was before, and I didn't know who I was now. I didn't know how to make certain people fit in my life. I didn't know how to move on, so I stayed still for a very long. I was happy but I wasn't. I don't know how to explain it. I was lost.

Alot of people noticed. My husband didn't really know how to help except to stick by me every day. It was hard for anyone to really understand. I don't wish what I experienced upon anyone. It was ugly. At times, I was ugly. And at times even life was ugly.

Things started to turn for the better one day. I can't explain how. They just took an upward swing. Then I got pregnant. I was scared. I was really scared. A baby seemed so permanent, and I thought I was still too unstable to handle it. I loved being pregnant. And I had dreamed about having a baby. I know that no one is ever REALLY ready to have a baby, but I felt extremely blindsided and unprepared.

When Isaac was born...in that minute, he changed me. He changed me into a mother. He changed me into a mother that had so much love for her son. He brought me full circle, and he completed me. He truly completed me.

I look into his blue eyes and every heartache, every sorrow, and every bad thing that I have ever seen was worth it because they brought me into this moment. They brought me into this moment in which I am this beautiful little boy's mother, and may not have been by any other road. He put my heart back together again. He has shown me what is truly important, and he made us into a family.

Every moment with him, whether its easy or hard, is beautiful. We struggle, and we will struggle in the future, but we are together.

He changed me.

And he completes me.

Eskimo

Before I say anything about the actual topic I am writing about today, I want to say something else.

Yesterday, I was not in the best of moods. I was cranky. And TIRED. And irritated with the world. And I didn't write yesterday's post about anyone or any blog in particular. I am sorry if I offended anyone or hurt anyone's feelings. I especially was not referring to any one of the brilliant women on my blogrolls (or men..there are a few of them too).

Now. What I was really going to say.

Ever since Isaac was a newborn, I have given him eskimo kisses. And I sing the "let's rub noses" song to him. It makes him laugh because my hair tickles him.

As he has grown, he learned what was coming when I say "Eskimo!" Just the other day, he started to lean into my face and put his nose up against mine. Even if I am not that close by, he will crawl over to me.

It melts my heart. :) And makes me feel like I can, as a mother, actually teach my child something.

Imperfect

I like to boast Isaac's accomplishments. I think this is natural, right? Comes with the motherhood territory. I do it because I am proud of him, and the progress he is making. I share these things because I want his family and friends to be able to keep up with his development and I don't have to have awkward conversation on why I didn't let them know Isaac was crawling?

I don't do it to imply my baby is perfect in any way.

He's not.

Oh, he's perfect to me.

But he's a baby boy who doesn't sleep through the night, hates bottles and formula, likes to smack me in the face and eat dirt from the floor. He burps and farts and pees on me and laughs about it. He's got a great set of lungs and isn't afraid to demonstrate their endurance in marathon screaming sessions.

And I am not a perfect parent by any means. I get frustrated. I yell. I plead and beg. I get irritated. I cry. And sometimes I go into my bedroom and close the door and turn the TV up full blast, leaving Isaac and his screams in the other room with his father. I am dealing with PPD, and I am not ashamed of it. Some days I downright hate myself, and I will be the first to say it. I make mistakes every day.

I am not afraid to scream our imperfections as loud as the accomplishments.

Why? Because I know that every single mother out there at some moment feels the same way. And it comforts me to read about it, knowing that I am not alone.

What I don't like to read is endless taunting of "oh my god my little angel is so completely perfect and never cries and has poop that smells like roses and chanel no. 5 and has been sleeping through the night since the day of birth and I have fountains of milk flowing from my skinny body that looks better than before I had a baby and I have never had mastitis and my baby's teeth came in as gentle as kittens lapping up milk and I have no stretch marks and I love my job and I make tons of money and I have no problems and every one loves me and my perfect Norman Rockwell family."

Yeah, I am pretty sure that is a crock of shite.

Don't get me wrong, I love to read about other mother's and their babies' joys and acheivements. When I hear a mother's infant is sleeping through the night or has finally cut that tooth, I want to run to them and high five her and hug her because she shared their struggles and helped me through mine. It makes me feel WORSE when I don't read that something is just not going smoothly. Maybe it is just me, but I feel empowered by the encouragement of a mother who I know has been there and made it through.

No, I don't mean I wish health struggles onto anyone. And I don't laugh gleefully at other people's pain. I don't wish hardship onto anyone.

I understand that maybe some people are not comfortable sharing hard times and frustrations. And that is fine too. The tone of those people's conversations is completely different than those up on their high horses. I respect their privacy and I won't pry into their lives to find problems.

All I am saying is that I am not perfect. And I know you aren't either. So let's be imperfect together.

Star Athlete

A while ago I fed my baby crack habit, and purchased the PP bathtime hippo set for Isaac. It has four different round toys that go in one bigger hippo that floats. Isaac took an instant liking to one of the round toys, a red and clear ball with a small yellow fish inside. He started throwing it and crawling after it.

The little ball disappeared for a few days and in the meantime, Isaac found a similar toy in the cat toys: a blue and white ball with a small gray mouse inside. I couldn't be one to let my son play with the kitty toys, so the next time I was at Tar.get, I found a set of 4 larger foam balls: one basketball, one soccer ball, one baseball, and one football.

HE LOVES THEM!

And he is already showing signs of being a sports enthusiast:

And you can be sure his Daddy is THRILLED. :)

Beautiful

I have heard alot of beautiful things in my lifetime. I have heard beautiful melodies and lyrics. I have heard heartfelt words. I have heard honest utterings.

Few things compared to the first time I heard my baby cry.

Until today.

I was in the kitchen, making crack (aka candied pecans....not real crack). Isaac was in his walker playing with his blocks and throwing veggie snack sticks on the floor and rolling over them, because that is fun. We were having a little conversation.

I turned away and went to the other side of the counter, out of his direct line of view.

"MAMA!"

So beautiful, I almost cried.

After months and months of "Dada...Daddy...Baba....itty at....hot....", I finally got a "Mama."

It was a beautiful day.

Split

Packing up clothes and toys and other things that Isaac has outgrown holds two very distinct emotions for me.

It makes me sad.

Sad, because like every parent, I think he is growing up too fast and I want to freeze time for just a moment to hold him a little longer, while he lets me. I remember certain moments related to specific items and remember them with wistful smile as I pack up memories of bring home my newborn; memories of first smiles, first times he met family and friends. As I packed up his bouncer, I remembered how he used to sleep in it as a teeny baby while I showered, seat in the bathroom.

And it makes me excited.

Excited, because it marks new steps in his life. It means he is growing up healthily, albeit too fast. Moving past certain milestones means knew ones are close ahead. Packing up the bassinet meant that Isaac was finally sleeping in his crib. Moving the bouncer into the basement makes room for the activity chair. Each item marks a transition into something new. It marks how far we've come.

Saying so long to certain baby items has been bittersweet. But at the same time, it has been relieving.

Isaac doesn't need to sit in the bouncer in the bathroom anymore. Nor do I have to wait until he is asleep to take a shower. I can put him in his playpen or in his room and take the monitor into the bathroom...and finally enjoy a shower that is longer than 5 minutes. I don't have to stand there and make the split decision on washing my hair or face because I only have time for one.

I no longer wake to every whimper that he makes while sleeping. We both sleep better. He is able to roll around to find a comfortable position, and so am I. I no longer have a newborn cradle in the crook of my arm while I sleep, nor have a co sleeper taking up a third of my bed. I don't have to worry about blankets falling into the bassinet. He's safe and happy in his crib, in his toasty room.

But still, every time I go into the basement for laundry, I pause at the bassinet. I run my hands along the rim and recall how small my boy looked in it. It seems like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at the same time.

I hold up his sleeper that we brought him home from the hospital in. I look at the picture of him wearing it, drowning in it because the newborn size was too big on him. I look at the newborn diaper I saved, belittled by the size 2-3 that fills the diaper stacker. So small. So very, very small.

He has come so far so quickly. I am so proud of him.

This is why you have more babies right? :)

Honest Blog Award

I was awarded the Honest Blog award by CJ from My So Called Life With Twins. :) Wahoo!

By winning this award, I have a couple rules to follow:

1. Must thank the person who gave me the award, list it, and link it! CHECK! :)

2. Share "10 Honest Things" about yourself.

3. Present this award to 7 others whose blogs you find brilliant in content and/or design, or htose who have encouraged you. (7? I can only pick 7?!)

4. Tell those 7 people the have been awarded HONEST SCRAP and inform them of the guidelines in receiving the award.

Without further ado....

10 Honest Things about Isaac's Mommy

1. I eat slightly wierd combos of food, mostly involving popcorn. I eat peanut M&Ms with popcorn. I also eat Doritos with popcorn. Fritos with cottage cheese. Ketchup with scrambled eggs. Ketchup with mac and cheese. Hot dogs and scrambled eggs.

2. I love the smell of Ivory soap. I buy the bars and unwrap them and put them in my shower. I don't use them, I just smell them.

3. I hate my knees. I don't wear shorts or skirts because I hate them that much. My knee caps are funny.

4. I am an OSU fan...but did not go to school there. Neither did my husband. That's just how we roll in the Midwest.

5. I love to bake and cook. I have about 10 million recipes and cookbooks. That is only a slight exaggeration.

6. I am a horrible driver. HORRIBLE. And I get nasty bad road rage. Not a good combo.

7. I am addicted to the MTV reality shows: Real World, The Hills, The City...etc. I will not stop watching and I am not ashamed.

8. I have wierd OCDs. Like sometimes, I know I should be stressed, but I am not...so I stress that I am not stressed. And I wash my hands ALOT.

9. I sing pop songs to my baby. He loves them. I don't know any baby songs. Britney I know. He also gets alot of MB20 and RT.

10. My first job was under the golden arches of McD's. And I met my husband there. :)

Whew! Ok, these 7 people, tag!

1. Ann at The Grady Chronicles
2. Aimee at Momma's June Bugs
3. Stacie at Never Clever
4. Trisha at Totally Trish
5. Alison at (un)complicate me
6. AJ48 at Baby Steps and The Life We Live
7. Andrea at Walking the Tightrope

The only thing I will say about these fine ladies is that I love what they write. They have all helped me in different ways, and inspire me every day. :)

Uuuuuuuupppppp!

Isaac learned to crawl about 3 weeks ago. And then last night...he stood up. We knew it was coming...he's been doing a mean downward dog since before he was crawling.

Now his favorite thing to do is stand. He crawls over to me and climbs up my leg, or claws his way up into a standing position. And my favorite thing...he covers my face in baby kisses.

He doesn't say Mama yet, but I will take this. :)

He also crawls over to me, extends his arms ups and makes the "uh! uh!" noises, asking to be picked up.

I love that too...right now. :)

We also had our 9 month check up today. Isaac weighs in at a healthy 19 lbs 4 oz and measure 28 and 3/4 inches. He is still ahead on his motor skills and physical activity development, further convincing Ben he has a star athlete on his hands. Last night he developed a huge rash on his back, which sent me into a frenzy thinking he had a food allergy or shingles...and it turned out to be eczema.

As the Doctor was checking out Isaac, he whispered to me that he had just gotten in more H1N1 vaccine and did we want this? Sure! I was instructed not to mention it while in the office, because he didn't have enough, and barely had any of the regular flu vaccines. I assured him I was not about to start a riot. :) We got the flu booster and his first H1N1. We go back for the second H1N1, polio, and hep B in December.

And we scheduled his 12 month appointment. His 1 year checkup. 1 YEAR.

And then I cried. :)

Wordless Wednesday

Today, if you are reading my blog, take a minute and go give the Spohrs a hug on Maddie's 2nd birthday. The world is a better place because of this little girl.

Stop by the Friends of Maddie website, and help premature babies make it to their 2nd birthdays and well beyond.

And then go to your own child, and hug them as if you are never letting go. Every day with a child is a blessing. Treat it as such.

Happy Birthday Precious Maddie!

Me No Likey!

I talk alot about the things that my baby likes, things that make him laugh. He's a happy baby. But there are things of which Isaac is not so much a fan. This morning I was reminded of one such thing.

Isaac hates trash bags. I was changing the trash in the kitchen while Isaac was in his walker before leaving for the day. I shook out the new trash bag, and man oh man, did he remind me how much he did not like that! He screamed and started crying. Dually noted, little man. Mommy will never change the trash again!

He doesn't like bananas. At all. Mashed, pureed, chunked. Hates em. I have to hide them amongst other food in trickery. When I give him the chunks, he seriously picked around them, eating only the cheerios.

And um, he doesn't like sleep. Seriously. It is ridiculous how much this kid fights sleep. It gets pretty ugly at night when bedtime rolls around. This does not bode well for us.

He doesn't like to sit and read books. He loves books, just not in a sitting position. We have to read books laying on our backs on Mommy's and Daddy's bed.

And Isaac does not like having shirts pulled over his head. He cries when we are either doing this to dress him or undress him.

It is absolutely fascinating to me to watch as this little person's personality continues to develop and shine through; all these little likes and dislikes that make him uniquely him. They make him the little guy that I love. They make him uniquely my baby boy, different from everyone else.

Helpless

There are many things that make me feel like a failure as a mother. Ok, maybe not a complete FAILURE, but make me feel like I am severely inadequete. Like the fact that I can sweep my floor 20 times a day, but Isaac still finds the ONE teeny piece of old cheerio or something and starts to gag on it.

I had a 2 day class this past weekend, Friday and Saturday, (that I LOVED, but that's another story) so Ben stayed with Isaac and had serious Daddy-Son bonding time. They played ball and watch football and burped and all that boy stuff. Boy stuff that Isaac knows how to work. He's at that stage where he doesn't cry for food. He knows when meal time is, and he hates bottles because solid food is way more fun. So unless he is repeatedly given the bottle before his meals and inbetween, he doesn't drink. That involves him having to stop playing and he hates that. So he plays his Daddy like a fiddle.

This should be seeming fine, except that Isaac is also a kid that hates sleeping. Seriously. HATES SLEEPING. He fights sleep something fierce. I literally have to hold him tight to me to get him to stop squirming and moving around before he will fall asleep. He screams, he hates it. Otherwise he doesn't sleep. It's a necessary evil in the stage we are in right now. And once he relaxes, the kid is out.

However, if he hasn't eaten enough during the day, he doesn't stay asleep. And Isaac is one of those babies that gets too comfy while nursing and falls asleep before he's full sometimes, especially now because he is so damn tired from not sleeping much during the day. When he was teeny we used to have to strip him down sometimes to prevent him from getting all warm and cozy so he'd eat and get full and not throw a wrench into his milk supply.

This was the case on Saturday night. He hadn't eaten properly during the day. And he was exhausted. So he was up once an hour, almost every hour from 9 to 12. At 12:30 I was dry. And Isaac was not satiated. I tried bottle after bottle, but he is not a bottle baby. This is something we have to work on. I tried for an hour+. He didn't want to be rocked, or bounced. He didn't want his back rubbed. He wanted to nurse.

I had to put him in the crib. Zip him up (cat tent). Close the door.

And let him scream.

Oh and he did.

I laid in bed and cried.

Cried because my baby was crying and I couldn't soothe him.

Cried because I couldn't give him what he needed.

Cried because I felt...helpless.

Ben wrapped his arms around me. I cried myself to sleep.

Ben didn't sleep. He informed me the next morning that Isaac screamed for the majority of 3 and a half hours before he finally fell asleep. When Isaac woke up at his normal time of 7am, his little eyes were all red and puffy.

It broke my heart. I hated that feeling. I hate feeling helpless in terms of my own child.

Hey Grandma and Grandpa!

Isaac recently received a package from Ben's parents. He was quite fascinated by the box. He keep biting it and trying to rip it open with his teeth.

Once the presents were out of the box, I took it away. He was upset. It was like I had taken the best part of the present away. Next time, Grandma and Grandpa....you really don't need to purchase anything to go in the box. :)

Trick or Treating is HARDWORK!

Isaac's second Halloween costume was the cutie pumpkin baby you see, courtesy of his grandma C. The first costume was just too chilly for evening on the coast. He liked this one much better, but was not so happy when Mommy was painting his cheeks. I mean once I did one, I had to do the other... :)

He started off very well, taking his picture next to his kitty pumpkin and Dozer (who looks kinda like a demon dog in this picture...).

He was excited in the stroller, and didn't know exactly what to make of the costumes and lights and music and all the people out and about.

30 minutes after we started, he ended up like this:

Baby Tres.sel

Isaac had two Halloween costumes. By day, he was the OS.U foot.ball co.ach, Ji.m Tre.ssel. He looked adorable. :) He just hated the headset and glasses that we fashioned, so I had to hold his arms down for pictures. He kept trying to rip them off. And the cats kept playing with them.

My husband is determined to try this costume again next year, when Isaac may not be so fidgety....ha. :) I just don't see that happening.

Baby Face

I remember the first time I nursed Isaac.

The nurse brought my teeny, one hour old newborn to me. I was excited and terrified, wondering what my body was going to do, how he would respond. I remember the wierd feeling when he latched on that first time. The nurse was impressed with me and my newborn, able to nurse like that the first time right away.

What I really remember about that first time is how tiny Isaac's little head was. I just looked down at his teeny baby face in awe; awe that this was my baby, my beautiful little baby boy. I didn't mind any of the times that the nurses woke me up with my hungry baby. I knew that I was going to love this experience, just because it gave me time to stare at my baby. I knew that no matter what else was going on, I would have this time, just me and Isaac.

As the days, weeks, months rolled on, I still love the experience. I watched my baby face, so small next to my engorged breasts. I watched his tiny mouth root around, shaking his head from side to side, searching desperately for his food. I watched as he become more and more adept at nursing, to the point he is at now where he just leans back and uses his hands to direct his food right to his mouth. I watched him go from teeny baby face with squinty eyes that most often fell asleep while eating to staring me directly in the eyes. I watch as his baby face grew, and now it is larger than me. I watched his hair go from fuzzy dark hair to the beautiful silky light brown it is now.

Last night, he pulled off for a minute, stared me in the eyes and smiled his beautiful baby smile, then latched back on. I love this. I love staring at my beautiful baby face. I love the interaction that is just between me and him. I love locking eyes with my son and communicating in silence.

The Many Hats of Isaac Lahman

He wears many hats, mainly because I make him. Or at least make him try them on at Tar.get. :) He likes it. He hams it up most times. MOST times. Sometimes he is just plain mad or annoyed. I think I am into the hats because they are really the only accessory that you can get away with on a baby boy. Well, that and shoes. But baby shoes are expensive. And in my opinion a waste of money until they are walking.

Anyway, the point is I put lots of hats on my baby. :) He's a hat wearing boy. The hospital started it, when he was born and they put the little yellow knit hat on him. He just looked so darn cute. I simply continued it. And he has tons that are just coming up in size.

And we don't always buy all the hats. We just have lots of fun trying them on...the ones we do buy, I wash the heck out of them. :) I am sure other people do what I do.

And incidently, the first picture was taken the day he was born. The last one was taken yesterday night.

Slow Down, My Kids Are Playing in the Middle of the Street!

That is what a lovely lady yelled at me this morning as I was dropping Isaac off at daycare.

Do you see anything wrong with that? As in, why is your kid playing in the middle of the busy street?

Ok, so Isaac's daycare is off of a busy residential street, but you have to turn off of it, and then turn again, so it is pretty far back. However, this lady lived right of the main busy street. The speed limit is 35 mph, but I usually go no more than 25 because the turns are quick and I would have to floor it to get up to legal speed. And the street poles and trees are COVERED with NEON signs that say "Kids Everywhere, Drive Safe" and "Slow Down" that are VERY distracting. Like, if I read all the signs, I would not be looking at the road for a good portion of time. It looks like that street is having about 20 million garage sales, because that is what the signs look like.

So this lady seriously SCREAMED that at me. And yes, her kids were IN the freaking street. Her 10 year old (estimated age) kids were rough housing in the actual paved STREET.

Now, I have no problem driving a bit safer. I'll slow down. Hell, I will even drive in the other lane if there is no one coming and there are people close to the edge of the road.

BUT MAYBE YOU SHOULD TEACH YOUR CHILDREN THAT THEY SHOULD NOT PLAY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!

Like, EVER!

It's a residential street, lady...not a playground.

Movin' On Up.

My baby has been crawling for two weeks now. After about a week, he discovered he could pull himself up on his knees if he grabbed a hold of the couch, the kitty condo, chair legs, etc. He also figured out that once on his knees, he could push things, like his activity chair. So guess what he likes to do ALL THE TIME now?

He has also started to stand still when we hold his hands and pull him into a standing position. He takes a few steps, then starts to cry.

Regardless, it inspired my husband to put this together this morning:

Yep, that's a walker!

Seriously, I can barely keep up with the crawling baby! He wants to walk already?! The past few nights I have been so pooped, I go to bed at 8:30! And I can't tell you how many times I have yelled "Isaac, what's in your mouth NOW?!"

Sigh.

And in case you couldn't tell, I am going to give the NaBloPoMo (is that right?) a whirl. 2 down....28 to go! :)

Next Year I Will Be the One Handing Out Parenting Tips for Halloween

My brother in law and I took Isaac trick or treating on Saturday night. I did not have high expectations, and honestly didn't expect to get candy or anything. We went to Flo.renc.e Ave, which was INSANE. All the homes were completely decked out.

Isaac had two costumes, both of which will be shown in photos once I download them from the camera. During the day, he was Ji.m Tre.ssel, the OS.U foo.tball coa.ch, and by night he went back to being my little pumpkin. :) The daytime costume was not warm enough.

Anyway, we put him in the stroller and walked up the street. We only went to houses that I could push him to. He got a few little treats that he can have, like little crackers. We got a few pieces of candy. And I got some much appreciated, unsolicited advice:

"Don't you know your baby can NOT have candy?"

Why no! Thank you kind lady! I was going to shove a whole Crun.ch bar into his mouth! Thank heavens you stopped me, just in the nick of time! And what a great idea, handing out advice for Halloween!

I mean seriously. I didn't take candy from anyone. People put the candy in Isaac's teeny pail. Most people said it was for me or BIL. Trick or Treat this year was more for the experience and to get him out. We only went to a few houses before Isaac passed out. And then we went home. And there were many other babies out.

Anyway, I will take the blame. I took my 9 month old baby out trick or treating. I dressed him up and I brought him to your house for a Halloween greeting. I will let you criticize me and think you are setting me straight.

But next year, I am totally stealing your idea and handing out advice.