A post about thankfulness

I spent some time on my lunch today doing a couple things. First, I cleaned out my desk and collected most of my things from my classroom in preparation of Monday being my last day. Second, I pumped which has nothing to do with anything except it came next in the sequence of events. Third, I went through the pictures of Caden on my phone since he was born and that's when it hit me: I am SO thankful for everything God has so richly blessed me with. Every couple posts I get all sentimental and sappy on you but I don't appologize. I tend to get all stressed and caught up in the day to day life of washing bottles and pumping equipment, struggling to get C to nurse well, establishing a schedule, maintaining a somewhat clean home, and finishing up teaching that I forget to take a breath and thank God for life itself. C is literally perfect and sometimes when I look at him sleeping, or when he wakes up and he's super happy and smiling it takes my breath away. Literally (old SNL skit reference if you didn't pick up on that). B and I are SO blessed it's ridiculous. I'm so thankful for a fairly easy pregnancy (I say "fairly" because I mean, do we need to revisit the swollen feet? Didn't think so), a super easy labor with zero complications, a perfect son, an amazing husband, etc. I do appologize if it sounds like I'm bragging or tooting my own horn (what, am I 90 now?). That's not how I mean this to sound. I'm just trying to wrap my tiny little brain around God's mercy and why WHY He has chosen to so richly bless US. While I ponder that, I'll indulge you in a look back at the past 3 months with our little nugget:In the hospital looking super fly and totally awesomeThis is back when his paci looked huge on his little headOur little hobit friendOne month!The sun was so super bright he needed shades on his eyes and his shirtSmiley boyOne of my fav pics to dateAnother fav during tummy timeI KNOW.He has such awesome smilesLittle Houdini just doing what he does best
Finally starting to show some love to monkey

Can't believe it's already been 3 months. I almost ALMOST have forgotten how huge I was...but then I remember and throw up and think about how it will be years and years before I put myself through that again. Or we'll just go with whatever God has in store for us and trust it's the best plan :)

hot sweaty hugs

I'm not ready!

This weekend I've almost thrown in the breastfeeding towel like 500 times. I don't make up my mind well. I think I proved this to be true around the time I bought the Nap Nanny (which is still sitting behind our couch collecting dust...) out of pure desperation. Anyway, C is still refusing to take the teet but I'm just as strong-willed and I refuse to give up. This morning was probably the worst episode we've had for a couple reasons. 1) I tried pumping this morning and my pump is dying. I bought it used from a friend (you can give me the sanitation speech all you want, i was determined to not buy a brand new pump for $300...uh no) and I think it finally had enough of my boob too, just like my son...tear...So there I sat with engorged ta ta's and my pump quits. So I wake up C from his awesome slumber (he went 9 hours last night, plus 2 hours when I had to wake him up) to start the feeding process before we had to leave for church. Well he's not having it. He's all like "your teet is too slow, step it up mom" and he said this while holding his breath and making his face really red and angry. So B tried to calm him down and put him back on...no...still not working. So I lose it because C is losing it and we're all a bunch of hot messes (literally for B, he sweats like a monkey, it's ridiculous). We end up giving him a bottle and I pull myself together while my mind is racing trying to figure out our next move: buy a new pump and keep trying? throw in the towel and start researching how to let your milk dry up? (terrified of this option, p.s.) rent a pump from Walgreens? jgfdgionfkjdgkjdn (that's my mind.) So my mom and I end up going to Walgreens after church to look into renting a pump because I realized I'm not ready to be done. I love the time with C (when he's NOT turning red out of pure hatred for my teet) and I really want to keep going. I have too many guilty feelings when I think about quitting right now. Ok, Walgreens rent-a-pump=jank city. I don't even know what the means, but it's not good. It comes in like a plastic blue toolbox contraption and I'm not about to haul that to and from school for this last week. I also would have had to buy a $50 accessory kit because it's a hospital grade pump. We said no thank you and decided to just buy one and see if insurance will cover any of it (rumor is they will now because it's considered "medical equipment"...heck yeah it is, insurance).

So that's where we're at. A new Medela pump that is so quiet and lovely, a child who still hates my teet (though he did do 20 good minutes on one side earlier tonight), and a hard-headed mother who refuses to quit yet. He seems to prefer the right side, he can settle down and eat on that side but flips his lid on the left side. Picky eater like his mom. I also just bought these bottles:

"They" say they're more difficult for babies to get milk out of and are the most similar to a nip and breastfeeding. I sure hope so (I know you're rolling your eyes right now because I've bought something else but I don't really care...roll away, peeps).

C is holding his head up like a champ lately and it's so much fun. He's also starting to mimic me when I stick my tongue out and makes noises. He tries to do it and laughs and it's the best thing ever.

But, the most important news of the weekend is this: C met his future wife on Saturday, HL. It was love at first involuntary touch on the play mat. HL is 9 days younger than C and his mama and I have known since our bellies touched at her baby shower they were destined to be hubs and wifey someday. They truly are alien babes and it freaks Sarah and I out when we text each other every day about the exact same things they're doing. Crazy kids.

Well I have go, hubs is about to crap himself during some stupid nascar race and I'm so annoyed it should be a crime. Why? Why does he have to love this "sport"? WHY? I kid you not this just happened: B held up his Budweiser and said (to the TV) "this buds for you" in reference to whatever idiot just won the race. Shoot me now.

ATTENTION: BREASTFEEDING MOMS!!

I NEED YOUR HELP

Here's the scenario:
I tried feeding C from the tap this afternoon when I got home. He wasn't having it. He kept popping off and on, not ever really latching. He started crying/fussing/squirming. Now we're not talking about a few little grunts or cries, we're talking red faced, serious crying. He would not settle down even with the nip in mouth. I was crying as he was crying. We were a mess. I tried for 30 minutes. Finally, as he was breaking down, I started a bottle with must resistance. So what's the deal?
My theories:
-after taking bottles more frequently, he's uninterested in the tap
-it's not coming out fast enough?

That's pretty much all I've got. Once I have him the bottle he chugged it down and passed out. This makes my heart very sad because if he won't drink from the tap I'm done. I'm not going to continue this by just pumping and feeding him breast milk through a bottle. Pumping is my enemy and after school is done, pumping is done. Period.
Has this ever happened to you? Is it a phase? Should I keep offering the teet? GIVE ME ANSWERS!!
Please and thank you.

What's that? You want to buy me an early b-day present?

Sure! Here's what you can get me:

(click for larger picture and detes)

I already have these lovely ladies and they sure are lonely without a sibling...

Now, I realize my b-day is like 8 months away...but here's what I used to pull with my parents: when I would want something long before my b-day, I'd just tell them to deduct it from my b-day funds but then when my actual b-day rolled around, they'd still get me stuff. Selfish? Absolutely. But it's not MY fault I was born a month after Christmas which means come May, I see all these cute springy things I want but can't have them because by January everythings lame and cold and wintery. Boo. I think I'd rather just have my b-day cake on January 14th and get my presents on June 14th. Who says you can't move your b-day celebration? It's my day, after all (ok, so I take the whole week...)

OH and I'll take THESE C (could you just die?)

Houdini

Have you met my son, Houdini? I have never met a squirmier child. I should have known by how active he was in the womb. I'm sure I have internal bruises from his kicks and punches (I'll ground him for that later). While I'd love to blame B for poor swaddle work, it really doesn't matter how tight he's wrapped, he'll get out. He'll also flip over to his back. Developmental milestone, yes. A bit annoying, also yes. He still hates being on his back (see above picture.) So when he gets himself turned over, he throws a fit and gets himself worked out of the swaddle.

My dad snapped this pic this morning after I had already left. Good to know he has both upper and lower body strength. He always wiggles himself up to the corner of the crib and a couple times I've gone in to check on him and I'm all freaked out he's going to suffocate in the bumpers (go ahead, bumper haters, turn me in to DCFS).

Here's the other annoyance we're currently going through with our little Houdini: 3:00 a.m. feedings. Not cool, C. The past 2 nights he's been getting up at 3:00 to eat and I'm not a fan (even though B has gotten up both nights to feed him. I feel this is only fair considering every afternoon I boob feed C for like an hour each time and walk away with uber raw nips.) So tonight's plan? Give him more to eat before bed time. When in doubt, stuff him with more milk.

Now, I know you all were wanting to hear a hilariously awkward and embarrassing story about me getting walked in on while working my milk cow gig (thanks friends) but there is no story. I was eating my lunch and getting READY to pump when a teacher had a security guard unlock my door to get her lunch out of the fridge (a serious down side to being a foods teacher). Sorry to disappoint but not sorry because I wasn't mortified and as pissed as I could have been. I am still quite baffled (ew I really hate that word now that I've typed it out and said it in my mind) as to why you would go get a security guard to unlock a classroom that IS NOT YOURS. Keep your lunch where all the other teachers have to keep theirs. Or become a Foods teacher and get your own damn fridge. Sorry, it just heats me a bit. What's the point in locking your door if someone's just going to unlock it anyway? I might as well sit in the middle of the hall during passing periods for the whole school to see while I pump the nips. Ok I exaggerate. And I'm done, for reals.

Peace.

a post about sacrifices

1. More than 1 beer/glass of wine/margartias

2. DAIRY

3. Caffiene

4. Tanning, shopping, spending any sort of "extra" monies

Ok let's break these down:

1. More than 1 beer/glass of wine/margaritas. I've had a couple beers since he's been born (only 1 at a time though). I'm terrified of putting him into a drunken stooper with more than 1 beer or more than 1/2 a glass of wine. Paranoid? Maybe. But as previously mentioned, I'm not about to pump and dump (H no). Oh what I wouldn't give for a ginormous strawberry margarita from a Mexican restaurant (because you know they make the best...and strongest.)

2. DAIRY. Oh. My. GOSH. I never thought this would be so hard. I thought Diet Coke would take the cake on most difficult thing to cut out of my life. C had been like gassy to the max lately so my mind automatically went to my diet...which automatically went to dairy. I eat alot of dairy peeps. I love pizza, ice cream, cheese sticks...cheese in any form really, chocolate milk. Friday night on our way home we were thinking of places to pick something up for dinner and literally EVERYTHING I get had cheese on it (Subway...no good without cheese, Arbys...beef n' cheddar, Chipotle...no good without cheese and sour cream, Taco Bell...well barf for starters, but a taco with no cheese? Enough said.) So I settled for my fave Noodles dish sans feta cheese (sads) but forgot to tell B to omit the mushrooms (yes I'm picky...deal) because I just ASSUMED since we're married he knows how I like all my fave dishes from like every restaurant. Not a good assumption? Yeah I learned that. But I mean come on I know all of his (Noodles: Pad Thai. Taco Bell: Whatever big box meal deal they have going on that is sure to clog some arteries. McD's: 2 double cheeseburgers. Subway: Steak and cheese. Chili's: fajitas. I could go on, but you get my point.) I'm the better spouse, obvi. Anyway, I shed some tears for reals and whipped up a crap-o PB & J. I've almost been a week dairy free and as much as I hate HATE to admit it, it's probably for the best when trying to lose this muffin top to just quit dairy. Suck. So I'll continue eating my pasta with red sauce and no parm cheese :( And you can just keep your cheese-less tacos and Subway sandwhiches. I'll pass.

3. Caffeine. Difficult? Yes. Impossible? No. I drank a Diet Coke a day. No biggie. But I'm not a coffee drinker so my DC in the a.m. got me going. And sometimes gave me something to look forward to in the middle of the day. Now I drink boring Sierra Mist which has gotten even MORE boring and completely useless as I have switched to Sierrra Mist FREE. I know. What's the point? It gives me a break from lame water, ok? Also, before I was preggers, I was an avid Venti Light Caramel Frappacino drinker. I would reward myself on Fridays. And Mondays for getting out of bed. And Wednesdays because it's the middle of the week. Shut up and don't judge. Now? Nothing. "Welcome to Starbucks may I take your order?" "Yeah, I'll take a Sierra Mist with no calories or goodness" "Yeah....we don't have crap drinks here. Only really awesome ones with magic caffeine and yummies" "Oh, ok. I'll just head to Qik N EZ for a 32 oz. Sierra Mist Free" Aaaaand shoot me.

4. Tanning, Shopping, any sort of "extra" monies. Yes I know it can cause cancer. Yes I know it makes your skin leathery. Yes I know my mother threatens to not pay for chemo if I get skin cancer. But I just look SO much better tan. And I do not have the patience to lay in the real sun for like 2 hours while sweating when I could get just as tan in 20 minutes. Now, I know Sarah will be yelling at me for this and that's fine because I'm NOT tanning. But if we could afford it, you best believe I'd be soakin up those fake UVs and skin cancer. Mmmm. Shopping: what female doesn't love it? I'm a known shopaholic. I love shoes, purses, tops, all of it. Thankfully my bod is less than hot at the moment so shopping is not-so-fun. Plus we ain't got no dolla dolla billz so my shopping habit is pushed to the side. Like, far far to the side. Probably won't be seen for a long time :(

Yes, these sacrifices suck. I'd love to be able to sit on the deck in the afternoon sipping a margarita while online shopping. Or laying in a coffin-sized UV death bed gettin' sexy. Or living day to day on frappacinos until my heart gave out from a caffeine overload. OR SHOVING MY FACE WITH PIZZA AND ICE CREAM. But the choice is simple. The choice to give up shopping, eating out on a weekly basis, having iPhones all so I can stay home with my little man is a no brainer. Cheese? What's cheese? (ok, that's a stretch) I'd gladly give it all up to see my nugget smiling and happy. To know I get to see him every day. I get to be the one to see him laugh for the first time, take his first steps, feed him his first solids. I would give up ANYTHING to ensure he's healthy and happy. He's my life now and there's nothing I wouldn't do for him. I pray daily he makes wise choices. That he chooses a godly wife (that's actually already been chosen for him, so I just pray he accepts it and goes with it...right Sar?). That he looks back and thanks me for giving up dairy so he didn't have to fart so much. You're welcome, C. I'd do it all again the next day and the next times 1 million. And I will, because this is my life now:please excuse the white-trashy-ness that is my bra hanging all over the place. i just love C's blue steel look.aren't those toes just the yummiest?

haha, mom. you can't have ice cream because of me.

i really don't think that little face is saying that, though. looks more like "i love you mom. so much that i watch you wherever you go and i can't take my eyes off you" (it's true and it's the sweetest, most heart-melting thing i've ever experience in my life.)

Need a good laugh?

Look no further. For your entertainment this evening, I am providing a look into the past. This was only about 3 months ago. There really are no words....actually I can think of many, the first one being VOM.

Feast your eyes upon those bad boys and I dare you not to barf..
Those, my dears, are my feet at about 36 weeks fat. I know, both hilarious and disgusting at the exact.same.time.
Now you understand why I could only wear flip flops and Birkenstocks in February. For the love.

Also, did I miss the memo regarding mismatched neon colored socks being worn with flip flops?? No? Didn't think so but this is what I see daily at school. I bring this up since we're on the topic of things that make you vom, and that "fashion statement" (though I don't think you can actually call it fashion) makes me vom in my mouth a little every time. Just take the socks off, ladies. Or put some tennies on and all is forgiven.

xoxo,
nolongerobesefeet mama

In true classy girl fashion....

...I took pics of my hobo milk holder which will NOT cause me great distress due to a loss of my precious liquid gold.
Though my lack of a tan will certainly make me tear up.
xoxo,
happy milk cow.

poop. poop poop poop

Well, I did it again. The most horrible thing I said I would NOT do again...


Remember how I forgot lids to my milk storage thingys so I fashioned make shift lids that were less than sub par and janky and so they spilt and I cried? I DID IT AGAIN. I forgot my lids. Why do I keep doing this? I'll tell you EXACTLY why. I'm the type of person who likes to have as many things done ahead of time to alleviate stress the morning/day of. Well, bad news for me, pumping equipment can't be packed up the night before because I'm still using it that night. And most of my parts have to dry overnight. Enter: high stress level in the morning. I rarely have myself even started to be ready at 7:00 when one of my parents gets to our house to pick up nugget and I shoot to leave at 7:15 (it doesn't happen. like ever). Let me just tell you--these babies can NOT spill today or I will literally check myself into the straight jacket hospital because I'll be certifiable. I can hardly keep up these days with nugget's latest milk intake increase. Seriously, he'd live attached to my teet 24/7 if I let him (that wouldn't get judgemental looks at all). So I pump like it's my job and coach my teets to just keep pumping but they don't listen. They get tired and quit before I've met the quota.
I have to go think about how I'm going to make a better lid than last time. I'm looking at my 16oz. bottle of Squirt on my desk and thinking I'll be cleaning it out and using that. Classy, that's how we do it over here.

You all stay classy out there. And be thankful you don't have tired nips that just want to retire. Unless you do, then it sucks for you and me both.

Lightbulb moment

I've had an epiphany. Before you go crap yourselves because I actually had a deep thought, let me explain.

One night during my freshie year at college (i. am. eiu. shout out) I was attending a Wednesday night Bible study at the Campus House (shout out #2) (o.m.g. stop shouting out and get to the epiphany already) and the worship leader, Ben, started explaining a concept I wouldn't fully comprehend or experience until 8 years later. Vom. It's been 8 years since I was a freshie in college. Sorry, I digress easily. He told us he never fully understood God's love for us until he had children. Then it became the most clear illustration for him because he realized as much as he loves his kids (alot), God loves us even MORE. And he realized he would do anything for them, even lay his life down for them. Do you see where I'm going with this? I'll expand for my slower readers...
Today, for some unknown reason, that concept came back to my mind and I finally got it. The light bulb went off. I love C more than I EVER thought possible. I mean I loved him as soon as I saw that plus sign on the pee stick (or the 12+ because that's how many I took...no lie), but h.o.l.y. cow when I saw that little face and held him for the first time it was instant. I would do anything for this little life. I would die for him, no questions asked. I know he'll hurt me, disappoint me, and make me angry when he gets older (though I'm sure it will be a rare occurrence....). But I'll forgive him and show him grace. Again and again and again. Now I know so much better how God feels about us, His children. We hurt Him and disappoint Him on a MINUTE basis but He forgives us so much quicker than I'll be able to forgive C I'm sure.
So there was my epiphany. My light bulb moment. Some of you parents out there are probably like "duh, I drew that parallel like the first day I had my child" but I'm slow and tired so shutty. Please now feast your eyes upon my child who is so adorable it often (I pronounce the "t" in often and it drives my mom crazy. Anyone else pronounce the "t"?) takes my breath away.

Meet Monkey (clever, I know). C could care less about monkey and thinks he's no different from any other blanket. But I had a bunny I always carried around and I think it's cute when babies have a favorite soft thing. Enter: monkey. So I'm forcing C to love him because I'm the mom and I can. So far it's going nowhere.

I TOTES (that's "totally" for those still living in a cave) KNOW. Wouldn't you die for this face?

Do you see the hair situation I'm working with here?? Hoping that mohawk isn't permanent. OR many I hope it is...

Ultimate Sleep Fighter

Seriously, this kid will not give up. As I sit here typing this, he's been in his crib crying for almost 30 minutes. Why don't I go in and get him you ask? BECAUSE NOTHING WORKS. Since he woke up from his last 30 minute nap around 3:45, he's slept about 20 minutes. And it's 7:00. I fed him, burped him, tried bouncing, tried the swing. He yawns. He's tired. But he won't give up. Ok I'm going in.
So I unswaddled him to try something else, bounced him, he didn't fall asleep (go figure) so I laid him back down and he's crying again. His paci is of no use because when he starts burrowing his little face it falls out.
This is wearing me down emotionally and I don't know what to do with myself. Listening to him cry just rips my heart out and it's even worse knowing all he needs is sleep but he won't fall asleep. I'm about to slip some nyquil in his next bottle....jk....this is no time for jokes.
Well, I better get going. I have some crying to attend to because that's about all I can do while he lays in there screaming....

New Attitude

I realized something on my way to youth group tonight and I've decided to have a new attitude about this whole high maintenance baby thing for 2 main reasons:

1. We have several close friends currently trying to conceive and having difficult times. I know without a doubt they would give almost anything to be sleep deprived and trying to tame a HMN to be able to have a child. This is a huge slap in the face when I sit back and think about all my complaining about how he doesn't sleep and I'm so frustrated, etc. We've been blessed for reasons I'll never fully understand with an amazing gift and I have to remember to never take that for granted.

2. This is a season that will pass. He may not sleep through the night until he's a year old, but eventually, he will. And I know it'll go super fast because they past 2 months have FLOWN. Things have already gotten 180 million times better since the beginning. I've adapted to functioning on minimal sleep. His random smiles during bath time make it all worth it. He will become less HM and already has tremendously.

THAT BEING SAID....

We're really beside ourselves with this whole sleeping thing. He had a GREAT week last week during the day and at night. Then Friday happened. He would not sleep all day and we had a rough night. Saturday was rough and so was last night. He'll fall asleep while eating and you think he's out. But you'd be wrong. Literally the second you lay him in his crib, he wakes up and starts nuzzling his little face on the blanket and from there it's all downhill. Crying. And crying. We try to let him cry until he falls asleep but sometimes it doesn't work. For example last night we were up from 1:30-3:00 in the morning trying to get him to sleep until I finally caved and fed him. You can pretty much bet he's going to cry as soon as you put him in his crib. I feel like we're taking steps back instead of forward with this whole sleep issue. I don't even mind getting up in the middle of the night, I just wish he wouldn't cry EVERY TIME we lay him down. Let it be known I am not complaining, I simply don't understand this concept of "fighting sleep" if that's what's going on. I suppose it could be still related to the shots he got on Wednesday? Any thoughts? My skin just crawls when I hear him wailing and I PRAY he stops soon.

Also, I'm experiencing this phenomenon I like to call "the phantom cry." You know what I'm talking about. When you SWEAR you hear your child crying so you go through this big thing of taking your earplugs (what? you mean not everyone sleeps with these because your husband snores? oh ok) out and everything so you can hear and sure enough, he's definitely not crying. I went through this several times last night.

Suggestions welcome (as always) regarding our current sleep situation or lack thereof.

Keep me accountable on my new attitude change.

peace.

Copy Cat

No this isn't another post about my cat so just chill out. I'm copying a portion of my bff Sarah's post from the other day because I echo her thoughts. Our children are also alien twins but that's a post for a different day. I know you creepers are out there being creeptastic on my blog so leave me your comments not just another number on my creep counter. She put it much nicer though:

Hello Readers,

I know you’re out there. Because according to my blog statistic teller-over 300 of you clicked on my blog yesterdee. Now I would really appreciate it if you would all start commenting on all of the crap I write instead of just leaving me in the dark thinking I write to like my Mom and Dana everyday. I’m going to make a conscious effort on all of the blogs that I stalk to be all commenty from now on, and maybe people will do the same in this hood. It’s like the golden rule or something. I need your comments or else I feel like I’m talking to a wall and then I probably will get bored and stop again.

Same applies to you, my readers. Leave me your comments if you're truly out there or I'm highly likely to throw in the towel on this whole blog b'ness. And I really need this hobby for when I'm home 24/7 in 3 weeks.

Also, I'd like to take a moment to point out that we laid C man in his crib while he was still awake (we RARELY do this because he's usually not having any of it. He likes to be pampered and bounced to sleep THEN laid down. Can you blame him? I'd be milking this for as long as I could too) and he didn't cry. He made a couple little noises but he's been in there sleeping for 30 minutes now. If you're sitting there rolling your eyes because you think this is lame and no big deal let me tell you this: you're lame and no big deal. No I'm kidding please comment and make me feel special.

Thank you. Sending non-creepy hugs to you all.

Oops!

My mistake, I was under the impression I only birthed ONE baby, but evidently there were two. Our mentally handicapped cat, Milo, seems to think he needs to be fed and given treats (thanks for starting that habit, mom) around 4:00 in the morning. He walks around aimlessly crying like a pathetic piece of fur. When we don't respond, because WE'RE SLEEPING because OUR BABY IS SLEEPING (I know, how selfish of us), he starts to act out by kicking/pounding on closed closet doors. We put pillows in front of the hall closet but he simply uses his stupid cat paws and pushes them to the side. When we still don't respond, he kicks things up a notch by jumping up on the side table by my bed and begins knocking my things off, like my chapstick. Real mature, Milo. Sometimes I squirt him with a spray bottle which he interprets as a game. Yes, that's what I want to be doing at 4:00 in the morning. Again, mentally handicapped. Finally, one of us caves (I try to hold out the longest) and gets up to give dumby some treats (like he's starving or something. He's flipping huge). Such a drama queen.

I'm so over this cat. He needs to learn that when C sleeps, we all sleep. Can you tell I have like -5% sympathy for this cat? When a baby comes into your life, pets (probably cats more than dogs) take a backseat. In our case, he's in the trunk. Harsh? I don't care. Dude needs to learn to chill in his old age (11 years this September). I'm not into this morning song and dance. Milo needs to get ahold of himself.

Onto more important things than my obese feline. Like my much cuter child:
C slept through the night 3 nights this week. We did digress last night, though. He woke up crying at 2:30 (4 hours since last feeding) so I opted to let him cry. He stopped and slept another hour. Around 3:30 he decided he was serious this time so we got up. B fed him while I pumped. Hoping we don't go back to having a middle of the night feeding. Getting 6-7 hours of uniterupted (excuse me, it was interupted by drama queen milo but not my child. This is so screwed up) sleep was something I could get used to.
C had his 2 month shots Wednesday. Here are his current stats:

weight: 11 lbs. 7 oz. 60-something percentile

height: 24 inches 80-something percentile

head: i don't remember inches but 40-something percentile
conclusion: skinny, tall, and a small head I guess. It all works out well though because he really is the cutest boy I've ever seen.

He did ok with the shots, considering he's not very "meaty" on his little thighs yet. He got some lame-o band aids that made him feel not any better, but I gave him the teet after and he loved me again. He told the nurse to shove it, though.

Here are some photos of fatty cat I found on my computer. Enjoy, but you probably won't because my C is more fun to look at.

"I know you aren't seriously bringing a baby into my house, lady"

Also let's please take note of how I used to look like a cute preggo before I really let myself go. I was actually skinny here. Suck.Just sitting in his place of worship next to his god: food.

This was our Christmas card a couple years ago. Below is an outake I felt was worth bringing to the surface

This picture makes me laugh for a couple reasons. 1) Brent's hand on my shoulder. 2) Milo worshiping his god (turkey) during the holiday season. (Seriously, my dad had to hold turkey off to the side. You thought he'd actually behave and act like a part of the family? Silly you) I, obviously, look great. The rest of my family needs to get their act together and get hands off my shoulder.

Just testing this out on my phone to see if it works. My room at school has no AC. what century is this?

Ok I'm confused....

Who stole my HMN and replaced him with a LBEGN (I'll let you ponder that one for awhile...)? Seriously, it's like I don't even know my son anymore.

Yesterday he did great during the day at my parents. The evening before bed time was a little rough. He wasn't fussy, he just didn't want to sleep. So I'm all worried about how the night is going to go. He finally got to sleep (we eventually had to lay him in his crib and let him cry because he just would NOT fall asleep) and after about an hour of sleep, decided to wake him up and start the bedtime routine (bath and bottle). So he ate at 10:30, probably got to sleep around 11:15 (like I said, I never know because I run off to bed. Thank the good Lord I have such an awesome hubby, even if he does sound like a freight train at night). NUGGEY WAS STILL ASLEEP WHEN I HAD TO GET UP AT 6:00. He finally woke up around 6:30. Count those hours my friends. 8 of them. WHAT?? New record. I know, right? Whose/Who's (??) child is this?

Let me give you an example of what we're talking about here and you tell me if it's the same child:

I went to work out yesterday (I know, did you just like have a heartattack? Get over it.) and C man was due to eat at 6:30 (this was the 3 hour mark). So I get home at like 6:30 and ask B if he thought he could hold him off so I could take a shower and I would feed him from the tap (not B you sickos) and he's like yeah for sure and I'm like um really? So I hop in the shower expecting to hear angry hunger screams when I get out but I don't. Did B kill him? Nope still just chilling on B's lap watching Wheel of Fortune (shut up, it's the best game show). So I end up feeding him around 7:00 and even then he wasn't upset or crying. Does this sound like the same HMN we've been dealing with? Praying we've turned a glorious corner and the true personality of C is coming out. If he is going to be a LBEGN (get it yet? keep trying) he'll get it from his dad...I'm definitely not this (there's a hint for you).

Also last night just for poops and giggles (this is a family blog, peeps) I stuck C in his bumbo seat. It was probably a bit premature since there were a couple times I thought his head might snap off (it didn't, calm down) but he sure looked cute sitting in it. I failed to get a good shot because like I said, his little head was bobbling quite a bit, but here's one that's pretty hilar:

I KNOW. Clearly he's saying "if you keep that teet milk from me for 2 more seconds I'm going to poop all over this bumbo seat and you'll wish you never stuck me in it" but I don't care because he's SO FLIPPING CUTE. I seriously love this kid to death. And not because he gave me 8 hours of uninterupted sleep (though that is freakin' sweet) but because he's seriously the most awesome little boy I've ever met. And he's pretty good looking too.

2 very important things...with no pics. sorry in advance.

Very Important Thing #1: C went another 7 hours last night (!!!!!!!!!!!!). Actually no, those exclamation points should not be contained with....whatever those things are called. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. If I would have predicted how long he would go during the night at about 7:00 last night, I would not have predicted 7 hours. I had to leave C with B while I went to the store and apparently, C wasn't such a fan of me leaving (obvi. Can you blame the child?) because he like cried the whole time and B was all fussy when I got home and I'm like hey, who's the baby here? (just kidding boo. don't worry he doesn't read my intelligent blog anyway). So then we bathe him, feed him his bottle and B said he was like asleep by the end (I wouldn't know because when the bottle process starts, I high tail it into the bed and get my snooze on before B can come barrelling in with his ridiculous snoring that really should be illegal. And yes, I sleep with earplugs but I might as well not even bother because it sounds like he's centimeters from my face. Enough about our bedroom issues though). This was at 10:15. So the next time we hear anything from the nugget, it's 5:15. IN THE MORNING. Whenever this happens (ok so like the one other time it happened) B and I both look at each other and we're like, "uhh, did that just happen? it's like, 5:00 in the morning." Kudos to you, baby nuggey. Keep up the good work and we'll keep feeding you.

Very Important Thing #2: I did not work out yesterday but you cannot slap me because I have a legit reason. B had a meeting with someone at 5:00 which went until 6:00 so I had to stay and watch the nugget (what? you think I'm going to like strap him on me with the moby wrap and head to the gym? are you on crack?). By the time he gets home, my to-do list consists of: a work out, a grocery store trip with a rather lengthy list, dinner, shower, and lots of other really legit stuff. So something had to get bumped....and you best believe I'm going to eat dinner, fools. And I can't tonight because after work B is going shopping for my mother's day gift (his words not mine) and obvi I'm going to totes let him do that. So clearly, my muffin top mission (MTM...because you know I love a good acronym) will be post-poned until next week. And seriously, no excuses. Seriously.

Mildly Important Thing: You know that saying "no use crying over spilt milk"? Ok I understand why that came about. So yesterday I'm running like crazy late for school and I'm trying to pack all my crap up, including my pumping junk, and I forget lids to my milk holder things that I pump into. So I'm all like, it's cool. I'll put some paper towels over the top, rubberband them on and stick a baggie on top (?, I don't know either). No good. I go to get my milk holder things at the end of the day from the fridge and one had fallen over, spilling my hard earned milk all over the fridge. F. You'd cry too if you sat at your desk, half nakie and freezing while a plastic cone sucked your nip until milk came out. Every. Day. That shiz is like gold.
I will never forget lids again.

That's it for today, peeps. You're welcome for taking those 5 minutes from your life you'll never get back with my not so important things that I think are very important.

hope you have a double dream hands (and feet) sort of day (you tube it, you won't regret it).

p.s. because everyone's been, like, begging me (lie. no one has actually said anything ever but i know you're thinking it) i'm going to start putting a very random, yet helpful, tip for succeeding at life at the end of every post. no need to thank me, but you're welcome.

Tip of the Post: if it looks like you're trying to pass a kidney stone while attempting to run at the speed on a leisurely walk, find a new hobby.

Giant Poisonous Satan Snake

Did you know my car is actually a GPSS? That's a Giant Poisonous Satan Snake that apparently threatens the life of my child. Every time we get in the car, he acts like he's dying. He screams, and screams, and screams.
Doesn't matter if the road is bumpy, smooth. We stop. We go. I drive fast, I go through town, I take the interstate. I play the music loud. Even Bieber can't calm him anymore. And yet it's still as though my car has morphed into a GPSS. Oh but it's not just MY car...it's every car. My mom's Prius. My dad's truck. They're all GPSS's according to my son.

Which will make Saturday super fun. We're taking our first trip out of Springfield and into Edwardsville. That's about an hour and 15 minutes away. Our friend Mallory is graduating with her Master's so we're going down to celebrate with our good friends. But if I can't turn my car from a GPSS back into a regular car that like every other baby loves except my HMN, I'm probably going to run the car off the road. Just kidding of course........(I don' t think she's kidding, I should probably call someone and report her....)

Aren't cars supposed to like, calm babies or something? Oh that's right, standard baby rules do not apply here. Bless his heart. Thank goodness his crib isn't a BSSSC (Blood Sucking Scorpion Spider Cricket...duh.)

Today I decided 3 months post being preggers is too long to still look 4 months preggo so I'm hitting up the gym when B gets home today (yes, I know it hasn't been 3 months yet. I'm not stupid. But I'm determined to fit COMFORTABLY into my non-maternity pants by month 3). Also, please don't say to me "I can't even tell you had a baby!" (wow, I definitely was not going to say that). Here's what's happening, I know how to hide the muffin top. Did you really think I'd just let it all hang out? (yes). Well I wouldn't. I know which pants and tops hide it best and that is what I wear to deceive you all into thinking I'm skinny when really I am not. Ok so, I hate working out. No seriously, like HATE it. I'd rather be eaten by a GPSS or gnaw my own arm off. Now I know typically I'm a pretty dramatic person but I'm being so serious right now. I don't work out and I don't diet. It's just not in me. I sit, watch TV, and graze and I enjoy all these things. But this muffin top is starting to get a little too comfy and thinking we're all like BFF and I never agreed to that so it's time for a lifestyle change. F. But I love my cookies and Little Debs (ok, this chick is really whiny and annoying. She needs to get off the couch and stop being so huge).

The C man is still highly unpredictable. He has a fussy time in the afternoon when he's with my parents (sorry folks). But when we're home in the evening he does pretty well. Last night after a feeding he was sitting with me in the glider and he was all grunting and getting red and fussy and finally had a big wet poo (you're welcome). It's funny to me how worked up he gets about pooping. Poor guy.

I'd say the Ferber method we were doing (going in and patting him while he is crying instead of picking him up) is pretty much doing nothing. He still cries through our pats like we're idiots and so he's laughing in our face only it's not laughter its screams and sads. He averages about 5 hours of sleep after we put him down for "bed" after a bath. If we could only eliminate that one middle of the night feeding (which we did Sunday night...he slept 7 straight hours. Pinch me.) Good thing I'm a smarty and didn't get used to that. I knew it was too good to be true.

Time to go psych myself up for the gym. If I wimp out and don't go I officially give you permission to slap me in the face next time you see me.

xoxo,

iwishthismuffintoptastedlikeamuffiefrompanera.

Also, because I know you don't come here to read my words but rather to stare at pictures of my cute child (creeps) I will fulfill your wants (in a non creepy way):

Check out that awesome hair.

Pretty sure this was post-poop