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.

Martha Stewart Watch Out

Martha seems to have it all together. She keeps everything neat and tidy. Everything looks catalog ready with crisp colors and clean designs. I am sure if you walked into her house, it would resemble something between a Stepford wife dwelling and a Pottery Barn catalog. Well, watch out Martha, here I come. I would first like to showcase my leather/suede tan and brown couch. This stylish couch comes scented with spoiled breast milk with spit up stains to match! Cozy, brown and cream corduroy pillows are embroidered with pee markings and milk vomit. Rich, cherry wood nightstand is also being showcased. This stunning piece boasts milk, ring marks stained from baby bottle nightly feedings. And wait, there's more! Sandy color, texture carpet is versatile and pleasing to the eye. The slight shimmer of little boy urine squirts complements a room for casual living.

Let's be honest. I have never been one to "over clean and organize". Let's just say, that has not been one of my "stronger points" in life. Although, I have grown in that area! Just ask my husband. I learned throughout my two years of marriage that if I want to make my husband happy and peaceful, I will provide a clean sanctuary for him to come home to. Now, I'm not saying that I do this every day or that I have mastered the art of housekeeping. Clearly, I have not. But, I do know that if I am striving to improve myself every day, that is what matters. While I appreciate cleanliness, I wouldn't trade one moment with my son for fancy furniture. My husband and I  will take our soiled furniture any day, because baby Isaac is worth more than all the Better Homes and Gardens showcases put together.

This is War

Red Alert! Terror threat level= SEVERE! The following homeland security report is a warning that we are currently experiencing a level RED terror threat. Conditions are explained below: 
Baby is currently at the age of 3 weeks old, which dictates eminent growth spurt. With growth spurt, you will experience zero sleep, constant screaming and a condition known as OCDBS (Obsessive, Compulsive, Boob Sucking). Terror level is anticipated to subside after 3 days. The following safety precautions are highly recommended.

Red-Severe Risk of Terrorist Attack Recommendations 

• Watch television for distraction purposes.
• Contact any and all support persons (grandparents, husband, sisters, dogs) in case of exhaustion.
• Obey any travel restrictions announced by local authority (baby)- ie. stay within pacifier, reaching distance in order to detonate the explosive device.
• Be prepared to "shelter in place" or evacuate if instructed by support relief.
• Survival supplies must be within arms distance. Possible supplies include: ice packs, nipple cream, water, snacks, remote control, Mr. Lamby, pacifier, and cellular device.

Please continue to check this website for security updates.

Pre Natal Pole Dancing

Ok... do not watch this if you are easily offended. I, myself find it hilarious. Crude? Yes. Funny? Definitely. You have to have a sense of humor when you feel like a whale. This clip is Rated R. I warned you. Now, turn up the volume.
http://FunnyOrDie.com/m/4yj6

NOW HIRING

The household of RockingChair Ramblings is currently searching for a new assistant. Applicants must be willing to work during the hours of 12 AM- 6AM. Job duties include burping baby, changing diapers, rocking and calming baby, and waking mommy to feed. Applicants must be loving, considerate, gentle and responsible and also must love babies. Applicants must have mothering experience, must be at least 26 years of age and have no criminal record. Salary is granted in coos, and cuddles by baby with a chocolate chip cookie stipend.

In all seriousness, I would like to thank my own mom for saving the day many times already. It is incredible how much sleep deprivation can twist your head into knots. I have never before felt such an insatiable craving for sleep as I do as a new mommy. When the little man turns his nocturnal switch into full throttle, Gramma Reindeer is always ready to come to the rescue. Mommy and Daddy get an extra 3 hours of sleep and life is happy again. There is no more valuable gift than grandparents, and we are lucky to have four, wonderful grandparents who cherish baby Isaac.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back

Nothing shouts "SEXY" like the hands free nursing bra. The image is traumatizing, I know. Just when you think you have got the "nursing thing" down; you take it a step further and try the "pump".  I have decided that motherhood is a series of learning curves. When you accomplish one task, there is a new responsibility lurking around the corner. I had been dreading starting the pumping process, but I knew that pumping was the key to me getting more consecutive hours of sleep- which is the ultimate goal and probably will continue to be the ultimate goal for the next... let's say...6 years of my life? You see, this is the way it works. Little man requires food every 3 hours ALL day, including those hours that no one, (except for people living in Japan) are awake. You must count every 3 hours from the start of one feed, to the start of another feed.  Each feed takes about 30 minutes, then burping takes 20 minutes, then of course you have to swaddle him. After those steps, then you must calm him down if you want any chance at going back to sleep yourself. And so, after all is said and done, you MIGHT have an hour and a half left for your own sleep. So, you see, this is where the husband comes in. He can take one of your nightly feedings!  So, of course, I had to try. Just when I thought my nipples had healed and become accustomed to my little munchkin; in comes a new suction device, the pump. When putting on this contraption, it feels as though my boobs are being inserted into a vacuum. Only, on this vacuum, I don't get the delight of watching my son's adorable face or listening to his soft, nuzzling noises. Despite my lackluster feelings about the pump, I must charge ahead with the end goal in mind. SLEEP!

LOVE

It's amazing how much love you can have for someone who can't speak, who you just met and who depends on you for every moment of every day of life. It's also amazing how God has designed the family to bond together through a child. The love that has grown between my husband and I is something I never expected my new son Isaac to gift us with. I thought I would share a personal piece of our lives with you. Here is a letter I wrote to my husband the week he was born.

" I am sitting here with ocean noises playing next to a precious, perfect little boy sleeping. I am in awe. I love him so much. I knew I would, but what I didn't expect was how much my love for you has grown. The way you take care of him and how much you love him shows in everything you do. You are a better dad than I ever could have imagined. He loves you so much. Sometimes I look at you and just feel overwhelmed by how much I love you. The way you helped me through every step of the pregnancy and labor will never leave my mind. From holding my legs up, to telling me how good I was doing, to carrying my throw up is just a small part. Helping me get out of bed while I am icing and bleeding and dripping, might not be the most glamorous moment, but it has bonded me to you in a way I can never explain. I will forever cherish those days in the hospital that we spent together. I will also cherish these early days with no sleep, or separate sleep schedules, taking shifts. Every time I get to see you again, we get to bond over the few hour events that took place with little Isaac. I can't even begin to express how impressed and lucky I am to be your wife. You are the ultimate provider. I feel so well taken care of. You make all these little tasks so easy. You are making mommy and Isaac's world a safe, happy place. I am tearing up as I write this because the emotions I have for you are so powerful. I would do anything for you to make our family perfect. I want you to be with us as much as possible. I want Isaac to have his daddy. You deserve to be with him and he deserves to be with you. I am treasuring these 5 weeks that you have taken off of work, and I am already dreading the end of that time. I know I shouldn't worry about the future, but I am just so happy and content right now. I want to save this moment in time forever. I love you."

Isaac's Mommy

OUCH!!!

Now, we have a beautiful, healthy, baby boy. He was placed in my loving arms and we shared our first gaze as mother and son. I held him, still feeling astonished that this child belonged to me. I created this? My husband shared how proud he was of me that " You did that!" I am still amazed to this day that we created a human life. As one friend put it," If you didn't believe in God before going through this process; you can't doubt Him now.". Our beautiful moment was interrupted by the initiation of...dun dun dun...BREAST FEEDING. The first few moments of breast feeding most definitely provide an adrenaline rush like no other. We took the breastfeeding class and prepared as best we could; but after attempting it, I believe it is one of those tasks that requires "hands on" learning. It is amazing how comfortable you will feel having a perfect stranger squeeze your breast in her hand as she teaches you how to "express" your colostrum. Yep, that hurt too. There is this inherent pressure that a mother feels about breast feeding. So many involuntary thoughts go racing through your head. I must do this right, or I am a failure as a mother. My baby's livelihood depends on MY breast! So, you will do anything, and I mean anything- to make sure you are doing it right. Many ice packs, 2 cracked, chapped, sore breasts later, we were successfully breastfeeding. Who ever told you that breastfeeding doesn't hurt was LYING. But it gets better, I promise. Here are some products that help. http://www.lansinoh.com/products/soothies-by-lansinoh-gel-pads

http://www.google.com/products/catalog?q=nipple+cream&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&cid=8457062281410005808&ei=Jqz9TLLUH4r0tgOR-c3EBA&sa=X&oi=product_catalog_result&ct=result&resnum=3&ved=0CCYQ8wIwAg#

And then there were 3 (PART 2)

Sleep... little did I know, that was going to be the last time I got to selfishly indulge in mindless, blissful, uninterrupted sleep.  I was disturbed from my last moment of peace by my doctor who oh so delicately shared that he was going to shove a monitor up my hoo ha to measure the contractions (since I was being put on pitocin). I think his approach was "If I don't tell her that this is going to be the most painful thing she has ever felt IN HER LIFE, maybe it won't hurt". Yea... thank you for that. As he was fishing around for the right spot to insert the monitor, my eyes glazed over, staring at that happy face pain poster. You know, the one that shows a spectrum of smiley faces, from yellow and joyous to red and furious? I wanted to throw the poster at my doctor's face.

Yes, if you were wondering, it was a ten. And I am not a wimp. After some tears and a few choice words, they finished the "insertion" and all I had to do was wait for the pitocin to kick in.  Next, came the most wonderful man of all- Mr. Anesthesiologist (if only he could have arrived 30 minutes sooner).  Once he had rewarded me with the epidural, I felt like a cloud, in fact I felt like belting out the song "Hallelujah", only interchanging the lyrics with "Ehhh- pi- dural, Ehhhhh-pi-dural, Epidural, Epirdual, Eh-eh-pi-du-ral". Now, after this, I must admit, everything else just seemed to fly by. I have never been more amazed and felt more supported than I did when my husband was holding me through the delivery process. He was heaven sent, holding my legs and cheering me on. Two and half hours later, at 5:22 PM, a baby boy was born, a beautiful baby boy. 

And then there were 3! (PART 1)

We took the baby classes. Oh the baby classes! We were warned of all the possible ways my birth process could take place. If we remembered nothing else, it was "If your water breaks, you GO to the hospital. Do not stop to think, shower, or put on make up". So, we didn't. It was a lovely evening on November 20th, 2010. Actually, strike that- it was a 9 month pregnant, I am so uncomfortable I think I'm going to burst evening. The doctor's had warned us that my baby was going to arrive up to two weeks early. Note to doctors: (that is a HUGE tease to an overly stuffed pregnant woman). Every day that went by made me feel like a ticking time bomb. I actually WANTED contractions so that I could get on with the delivery. Anyway... I had to come up with things to do to occupy myself while waiting for the "baby timer" to ring. So that particular evening, I tried a new recipe for Red Velvet Whoopie Pie Cookies. They turned out beautiful, but a little too rich for my taste. After stuffing  ourselves, we went to bed. I thought to myself (I shouldn't have eaten so much in case I deliver tonight- but I was sick of telling myself that- so I indulged).  On November 21st at 2 AM, I went to the bathroom (which btw happens every hour on the hour) at this point. I came back to bed, and felt a warm trickle down my leg. Hmmmm....WAS THIS IT????? I went back to the bathroom to check. Sure enough!!!! Hallelujah! I turned on the light to wake my sleeping husband. He opened his eyes, and I just smiled at him and said those magic words, "My water broke!".  He threw off the covers and paced around the room talking to himself. His sleepy self quickly became his panic, yet calm and focused self. I just watched him and chuckled to myself. It was precious. When we arrived at the hospital, I was wheeled up to my room (which I thought was funny- because I wasn't in any pain).  I didn't have any contractions yet, so they told me to go back to sleep. SLEEP!?