The Best Conversation I Ever Had

People talk about a lot of things. You turn on the television and there are endless "talk shows" you can tune into. You might be an Oprah fan, or a follower of the up and coming "Wendy William's Show", or perhaps you are the "Rachel Ray" type. There are also the news channels. If you want to hear news broadcaster's "un-biased" opinion on the world of politics today, there is a plethora of stations to choose from. As I flip through the channels, I am amused at the non stop babble that goes on. President Obama's State of the Union speech, the Democratic opinion of his speech, republican rebuttal of his speech, and everyone in between has some "insight" to share. After a while, the sounds of the television begin to ring like the Snoopy and the Peanut's gang teacher repeating the "wah, wah, wah wah, wah". As my eyes glaze over, I turn to the person sitting next to me. He looks up into my eyes. His eyes sparkle with fascination and love, and as our eyes meet, we become one. It's as if we don't need to say anything at all, yet we understand everything. But in fact, we do speak. He speaks. With a simple utterance, "ahbooo". My mouth curves into a warm smile and I repeat it back to him, "ahbooooo". We exchange consonants and vowels for what feels like an eternity. The world was spinning around us, but nothing mattered. Nothing but his eyes meeting mine as he studied the sounds dancing from my lips. He was learning and we were bonding. It's as if he said, "Mommy, thank you for all the hard work you do for me. I love you.". I could pay $11.50 for the cinema, $3.50 for a soda and $4.00 for a box of chocolates to entertain myself, but what's the point? I can have the best conversation with a 13 pound bundle of love without saying any "words" at all. Thank you Isaac for the best conversation I ever had.

James 1:12

I haven't written in a while. It's not because I am lazy, or haven't had ideas. It's because I was afraid. I was afraid that my thoughts sounded too negative, or that I sounded like I didn't appreciate the gift of motherhood. So, I waited. I waited it out. The truth is, I was going through a very difficult time. I never imagined that my baby would have "colic", or said another way, I never imagined that my baby would be a "hard baby". By nature, I am a fairly mellow person, so even though I had been warned that my husband had been a very fussy baby, I still dismissed the idea that MY baby would be fussy too. The first 7 weeks of sweet, baby Isaac's life were anything but easy. We had growth spurts, acid reflux, tummy problems, lots of throw up, and I mean LOTS, and a Pyloric Stenosis scare accompanied by an ultra sound, all the while with parents going through the pains of insomnia. I knew Isaac couldn't help it when his tummy hurt, but my head couldn't help pounding during his crying spells either. At one of the lowest points, you could have found me holding my screaming child in my arms, while I am bouncing on a yoga ball (in an attempt to unsuccessfully soothe him), all the while, tears are streaming down my face as well. At times, it seemed like the battle of the pains. Who could outlast who? We took every class on how to soothe your baby and there were many, many times when NONE of those measures worked. Talk about discouraging.  I am still amazed at how a 9lb human could have such a powerful, defeating affect on two grown ups. There is nothing more demoralizing than not being able to soothe your own flesh and blood. I can share this now, because I've seen the other side.  We have come out of the darkness and we now see the light and the reward is glorious. I don't know if his tummy started working better, maybe mommy started soothing better, maybe he simply matured, but for whatever the reason, Isaac is now the baby I knew he would be. He gazes at me, he smiles at me, he "talks" to me. I love him and I know he loves me.


"Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him." James 1:12

Daddy did it too!

There is nothing more reassuring than having someone to share your shortcomings and victories with. My husband is a modern day superman. You measure babies growth and size in percentiles. For example, if  Isaac is in the 60th percentile of weight, then 40% of babies weigh more than him. Well my husband is in the 95th percentile of work ethic and maybe 5 percent of the population works harder than he does. Or said another way,  he works harder than 95 percent of the population. He is always looking for ways to improve our lives or make things more efficient. I, on the other hand am not in the 95th percentile for work ethic. But I try. When Isaac and mommy are sleeping, my husband uses this time to do laundry, pay bills, do dishes, organize the house. In other words, he is a go - go - go-er. He seems to have things under control all of the time. But the other morning, when mommy woke up, daddy gave mommy a sheepish grin, and said... "Daddy did it too." I asked him, "Daddy did what?". He replied, "Daddy burnt the pacifiers too.". Oh! So it's not just mommy who makes mistakes! We have since made a third trip to the store to buy 8 more pacifiers, since Isaac is a little sucking machine, the pacifiers are a must. It is just nice to know that when you mess up, you have someone to laugh it off with. Or that when you "burn the pacifiers", you are not the only one. Sometimes, the best part of parenting is the stumbles you take together as mom and dad.

I am SUPER MOM

People warn you about the challenges of parenthood...but you don't really believe them. I remember sitting in my doctor's office a week and a half before Isaac was born, and I told him " I am ready to deliver NOW". He said, "Yea, but then the hard part really starts." I responded, "Yea right, anything is easier than THIS". We bantered back and forth for a few minutes as he tried to convince me how difficult parenting was, and I tried to convince him how tough I was. I sat there quite smug, arrogantly thinking, " Mmmhmmm... suuuuuure.  You were just doing something wrong. My baby will be perfect. Yea, you just aren't as tough as I am. I am SUPER MOM!" Well, now I know. I get it. I can crawl out of my proverbial hole of arrogance and accept that those "other people" were actually just like me. It is that hard. There are so many aspects to the baby care process... let's just take spitting up for today's lesson.  How can a baby have that much spit up? It's like a scene from the exorcist. The feeding period takes so much longer because his little tummy can't take all that milk at once.  But lord help me, if he doesn't get all the food he needs at once, he will definitely let me know! By the time we are done with a feeding session, we go into our burping routine. If we are lucky, we get all the burping and spitting up done WITH the burp rag.  That kind of luck only happens about 50 percent of the time. The other half is spent with me changing my shirt and his shirt up to 3 times because the curdling chunks decided to wait until just after I put on a new shirt. It's best when this occurs at 2 AM. That is my favorite time. You know... when you really feel like making wardrobe changes. Who needs sleep at that time? Like I said... I am super mom, hear me roar.

One Month

It's been exactly one month since sweet Isaac was born. I think back to the evening of November 20th when I was toppled over with pregnancy. I felt as if Isaac was spilling out of my stomach. Sitting on the couch or any chair for that matter, lying in bed, driving a car, standing and bending were all luxuries I had been missing out on for over 9 months. I remember how miserable my body felt during what seemed like a permanent state of living. I had heard through the grape vine that an old friend of mine had delivered her baby 2 days prior. I was thinking... lucky b&*ch. All I wanted was to get him OUT. I wasn't even so much thinking about meeting him, as I was thinking about relieving my body of this discomfort. Hey, you can always count on me to be honest.

I reflect back on that time that seemed like it was never ending. But every time I go through something difficult and come out on the other side,  I always feel more powerful. I know that the next time I have to endure a life challenge, it will come to an end, and I will survive. But, I didn't just survive.  I became a better person. I was rewarded with something that makes me realize that I would do it all over again just to have Isaac, and I will... some day. But for now, I will revel in God's miraculous design. Happy one month Isaac.

A Lesson From Isaac

Joy to the world, my hands are FREE! Look at his precious little face. He's happy and I'm happy. Really, there is no other way. Mommy can truly only be happy when baby is happy. Of course, for emotional reasons, and then simply for sanity reasons.  There is only so much crying a mom can handle before she has to fix the problem.  At this point in baby's life, he goes through 3 day stages. He picks something new that soothes him and that lasts about 3 days and then mommy and daddy have to play guessing game for the next victory soothe. As of right now, his soothing of choice is to be held. Yes, that is simple, adorable and quite humbling. All he wants in the whole world is to be next to you. That's it.  We want the new I Phone 4, the new 3D TV,  thinner thighs, the latest fashion item. Not Isaac. All he wants is to be close to his mommy and daddy. All he wants from Santa is to smell the scent of warm, familiar flesh blanketing his skin. Maybe we should all take a lesson from Isaac.  Be content with little. Appreciate the rich, aroma of fresh brewed coffee dripping from the carafe.  Take a moment to gaze at the fresh, cold rain drops splashing against the stained glass window.  Smell the sweet, smoky wood crackling in the fireplace. Delight in the beauty that God designed. 

"...I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength."
Philippians 4:11-13

I almost burned down the house

Well, maybe not quite. In my quest to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother, I try to be as efficient as possible in those brief intermittent moments that Isaac is not eating, being changed, needing to be calmed or I am not pumping.  As I laid in bed last night (trying to force sleep because it was my designated time to sleep and I must NOT waste the allotted time), I was calculating how often I actually am breast feeding or pumping. I figured that he eats at least 8 times a day and I have to pump at least 2 separate times. Each feeding/pumping session takes about 30 minutes, so I figured I spend about 5 hours a day with my breasts to the wind! 20 minutes is spent after each of the 8 feeding sessions burping and calming the little man. So, now we are adding another 2.5 hours. In total, that is about 7.5 hours of baby time each day. That is almost a full day's work schedule.  I hope to get about 6 hours of sleep per day. As you can see, there is not a lot of free time left in the day.  Yes, I actually spent my pillow time adding minutes. Shower? Make-Up? Clothes? What are those things? I digress... the word that comes to mind is multi-task. So, in one of my brief moments of "free time", I decided I was going to get a lot done. I put all the fallen pacifiers in a boiling pot of water. Check! I start the dishwasher. Check! I start cleaning the pump parts. Check! I go his room and grab his laundry. Check! Come back, check to see that he's breathing. Double Check! I make a pot of coffee and sit down to drink it. Triple Check!!! I open my computer, say hello to my blog. Hmm... what's that smell? Weird. It smells hot. Maybe it's the dishwasher. Yea, that must be it. That steam is just from the heat of the dishwasher. Check my email, check facebook. What the heck is that smell? I walk over to the kitchen. Oh holy *^%$! That is what the smell is!!!!!!! My pacies are burning! The pot of boiling water is no longer a pot of water, but a dried up black cauldron with browning pacifiers. The smell of chemical plastic has filled the air and I notice that the "steam" I had seen was actually smoke that permeated the house. Thank the lord the fire alarm didn't go off and wake my sleeping husband. I opened up the windows and praise the lord, that crispy pacies was the only victim of my absent-mindedness that morning.  Five pacifiers in the trash later, I learned my lesson. Do not try to be superwoman. You will never be able to do it all, and that's ok.