Baby Love

Let me start by saying Tyler is the first of my 4 kids to be exclusively breastfed. Don't get me wrong.... He does get bottles. They just happen to be breastmilk. And while there are lots of small wonders that go onto breastfeeding, nothing amazes me more than the whole 'let down' mystery. Up until this baby, sure, I would suffer the consequences of being out in public and hearing someone else's kid cry; but, this time around, it doesn't even take a cry. Would you believe that I can be away from Tyler, completely out of the house, and know when he is eating by my own body??? I keep expecting this strange phenomenon to dissipate the longer I'm back at work, but it doesn't. It gets stronger. I often feel its my reward... Or rather, my gift... For continuing to pursue breastfeeding in spite of everyone's countless desires to know why I continue to this. Tyler only nurses about twice per day now. And I never intended to be an ''exclusive pumper;" but I guess I fall somewhere in the gray zone of both. The 'limbo' of it all often prompts the question, "how long are you going to keep up with all of this?" And the answer is always the same: "until it feels right to stop." And that time isn't now. Maybe next month? At 1 year? 2 years? I don't know. But not now. Right now I'm getting to experience the tiny miracle of being so bound to this baby that I can physically feel his needs when he and I are apart.

You are not a Baby Whisperer

It was New Years Eve 2005. Ava was 4 months old. We were at a get together. Ava was throwing a 'Screamin Mimi' fit when a friend reached out her arms and took Ava from me. "I'll take her," she said. Something about it felt weird. Like.... I was inadequate; unable to soothe my baby. My friend spent the next 10 minutes holding Ava tightly against her, bouncing her all around the room, and shhh-ing her. I was thrilled when Ava continued to scream.

Fast forward 6 years. Last night, we had friends over. Tyler was fussy. So he was taken from my arms. For a split second, I felt the same flood of inadequacy that I had felt back on New Years Eve so many years before. But this time, it was different. I was older this time.... And with the experience of 4 babies behind me. I let her give it a whirl.

Throughout the past 4 years, I've had several similar experiences. And I'd like to make a major public announcement: You, yes you reading this, whoever you are, are not a baby whisperer. You don't have a special 'baby calming' gift or talent. Nor do I. But I do happen to have the intelligence (and shall I say 'humbleness?') to realize that when a baby - who is not MY baby - is crying, his Mother or Father are going to be the most comforting sources. Therefore meaning... wait for it... if you are holding a crying baby (who is not your own), and he starts to become fussy, you should give him back.

It sounds easy enough. Common sense. But time and time again, people get it wrong. Tyler didn't calm down, by the way. He continued to fuss. So, the 32-year old me (as opposed to the 25 year old me when Ava was born) took him back. He still didn't calm down. I didn't expect him to. He was off schedule, needed to eat, needed a bath, and needed to go to bed. And once all of those stars aligned, he was a calm, full, drowsy baby who quickly drifted off to sleep. No bouncing required.

Strike 1

Sweet Baby Tyler chimed in last week - giving us a glimpse of his true colors - when he refused (as in, arched his back and screamed) to nurse. And just to be fair - I decided to have a small (eh, really, it was kind of huge, but whatever) break down as well. So I stayed up all night long - researching HOW to get him to nurse (ironic, eh? Mom of 4 - researching this info on my 4th kid). And, well, one sleepless night later, I had developed a master plan. Step 1) I wouldn't force him to nurse (which I guess meant abandoning my inital theory of 'if he doesn't nurse, he'll just have to starve!'). 2) I would take a bath with him (which was probably the ultimate reason he decided to end his little moment of strike). And 3) I would buy a SNS device (which was probably a major waste of money, because when the kid didn't want to nurse - he didn't even try!). So now Strike 1 is over. Next.... I'm trying to work less. Right now, I'm pulling 4 1/2 days per week. I have a bizzarre addiction to seeing patients. They're in need. I have the power to fix 'em (most of the time). And they toss out a sad, miserable puppy-dog look that I fall for everytime. Therefore, I keep on chugging along at 4 1/2 days per week... when, really, the entire time, I'm desperately trying to escape home (so that my newborn can scream at me). So - I spoke with all of the appropriate people... and... starting this summer, I get to work less! A lot less. (without losing money, that is. That is the key, right?) Now, I just have to be patient until this summer.. and, well, patience isn't one of my stong points (I actually suck with patience). So, thats that. Next.... I'm taking Ava to the movies today. I'm fairly certin this is my first outing (aside from work, of course) without Tyler. I'm excited. (Moreso to eat nachos at the theater, but whatever.)

About that Moby Wrap

Remember when I wanted to give the Moby wrap a full review, but couldn't because 'leftie' decided to misbehave? Well, I was finally able to try out the acclaimed wrap. And I give it a big 'hmmm.'
Like that? See, here's the deal: it is, by far, the most secure feeling carrier I've tried (and believe me... With 4 kids, I've tried several!). There were no annoying straps or buckles; and I didn't have to splay my kids legs 4 feet apart to make it work.
But it did take the skill of a gymnast and 3 circus monkeys to get that thing on and off (not to mention that I was a lil' miffed that the moms in the demo photos wrapped the waistband part twice, and I certainly didn't have THAT much excess!)
And the heat, my goodness! This thing is hot hot hot!
Furthermore, I wish I could tell you that my darling screaming little man was snug as a bug, but that would be an outright lie. He was...er... Resistant to being swaddled to me (perhaps I was working too hard at getting that stupid thing to wrap twice like with a of the uber skinny mommies!) and I usually gave up the whole ordeal within the first 5 minutes (sweaty, exhausted, and with a circulation problem to my lower extremities).
So... In a nutshell... My first impression isn't so grand. Then again, I'm giving Mr. Moby the benefit of the doubt that perhaps I would find his product more useful in a longer term situation (say... Disney world? Hint hint to my husband) rather than in Target (or while doing dishes).
But for the moment, Im sticking with my handy dandy, trustworthy stroller (that must be lightweight, easy to fold, have a child tray, a parent cupholder, an underneath basket, and have wide-angle straps.... Go ahead... Feel sorry for the stroller salesperson... Fred does).

Baby B gets his first haircut!

The result

I did it. I went back to work Thursday and Friday. It was...okay. I wasn't miserable. Here's the thing: I have no problem working. I said it before, and I'll say it again - I love my job. I love what I do. Where I work. The people I work with. The doctor I work for. What I don't love are my hours. My hours aren't really anyone's 'fault.' They just happen. Just happen to be long, that is. And by Friday at 4pm, I felt as if the room was closing in on me. I had started hospital rounds at 5:45 that morning - and over 10 hours later, I was still working. Meanwhile, all I could think about were the things I had missed with my kids that day. Sure, I didn't miss anything spectacular. Ryan didn't recite the Declaration of Independence in my absence (Did I mention that he can 'ooh ooh ooh' like a monkey, but refuses to speak a single word of the English language? ...Another day...)... but I'm sure he had several bouts of giggles that I missed. And I missed hearing the boys jump in their cribs, signaling the end of naptime. I missed hearing Ava's condensed version of the dramas of first grade; Evan's hourly stroll to the pantry to point at various snacks that he 'needs.' I missed alot. And while I know that I don't want to 'quit' my job by any stretch, I'm feverishly brainstorming ways to make a few changes. These moments aren't replaceable. And they're zooming by. I don't want to mess this up.

This is it

In 2 1/2 hours, my alarm clock will buzz. It will be the first time in 6 weeks that I've awakened to anything other than my sweet baby boy's need for more food. 6 weeks. Thats it. Its the shortest amount of time I've stayed home with any of my kids. With Ava, I quit working all together. With the boys, I took 10 weeks. 6 weeks. Why does it feel like tomorrow starts the beginning of me 'giving' Tyler to someone else to raise (albeit that 'someone' is my husband)? I don't want to go back. I've spent the past 2 weeks formulating ideas of ways NOT to go back. Lets be clear. I love my job. LOVE it. I LOVE my boss and coworkers. But I love my kids more. Lots more. And I have a dark, looming feeling that I'm making a mistake here with the balance in my life. I'm juggling.... and all the balls are falling. I can't quit. But I can make some changes. So, at T-minus 2 1/2 hours to go, I'm awake (Tyler is asleep, by the way). Pumping, blogging, and rehearsing my lines. 1 Day. Thats what I'm asking for. To cut 1 day of work out of my schedule each week. I honestly don't know how it will go. As I said before, my employer is amazing and very resonable... but... I'm a huge moneymaker for him. 1 day seems simple enough. But 1 day to him is a huge profit loss. This is heartbreaking...

You have got to be joking...

I've been nursing Tyler. Its all good, but... the sad (very sad. horrible. unfortunate.) fact is that I'm going back to work. So... Ty has been getting boobs and bottles lately - both of which he's a champ with. The issue is pumping. I hate (detest. loate.) it. But I do it. 7-8 times in a 24 hour period. For me, its unrealistic to continue with that frequency. So... I've thought about reducing that. But I can't. I've tried. And the PAIN that follows... yikes! So I've stuck with it. Even in the middle of the night. So why (WHY!?!) did I wake up this morning with an all-too-familiar feeling of left-sided pain??? I pumped; it kinda got better... then quickly worse again. And as the day wore on, it now feels like I might need to bend over and pick Leftie up out of the floor. Yep... mastitis. Again. HOW? WHY? I am following all of the stupid rules! Well, let me tell you, this time, I'm outsmarting Leftie and starting antibiotics before I get fevers and chills (I learned the hard way!).
Hey, my Moby wrap arrived today! I'm stoked about this little contraption! I'll pass along my full review of it once I resume allowing anything other than an ice pack to touch me.

Oops, I did it again

Hello? Is this thing on??
I did it again. I forsake blogging for the beloved facebook. Oh wait.. no.. that wasn't exactly it... I forsake blogging for my beloved time. I didn't mean to, really. It just... happened.
The twins were born. Evan and Ryan. They made their grand entrance on October 10th. 10/10/10, to be exact. It was a whirlwind of excitement that hasn't yet stopped!
I finished school. Done. Over and out. Now I work... and daydream about the days when I was a stay-at-home mom. There's some serious irony somewhere in here...
Speaking of IRONY: Remember when we rented the 2 bedroom place only to find out I was pregnant with twins? Well, shortly after the little monsters... eh, angels... were born, we ditched the sardine lifestyle and moved on up to a 4 bedroom place. (Wait for it... the irony is coming...) Only to find out one month later that I was pregnant. Again. Thats right. (I'll give you a moment to snicker.). So in the 19 months since I last blogged, I have moved. twice. Graduated. Worked. And given birth to 3 kids. Baby Tyler is 6 weeks old and we're looking at 5 bedroom places now... although hopefully you can see how this gives us a slight edge of anxiety, given our track record.
So - the ole blog is once again getting pulled out, dusted off, and will be given a facelift. We'll see how it goes...

Things that make you go 'hmmmm?'

My search results from StatCounter:

"Sexy Maternity shirt" (really? I mean, seriously?)

"Extra small maternity pants" (go feed your baby a cheeseburger!)

"Super Comfy Maternity pajamas" (Aw, crap! Its my pajamas that have been keeping me up all night??? Who knew!?!?)

"Nursing Intimates" (riiigggghhht... exactly what I want to be doing while lactating!)

"Juicy Couture Maternity sweats" (awesome! more sweating! this time with a whoppin' pricetag of $139)

"Breastfeeding Essentials" (just a shot in the dark here - but I'm gonna guess boobs and a baby)

"Mommy to be 'Stork' panties" (sometimes, during the day, I forget I'm pregnant too... so a dazzling reminder on one of my 782 trips to pee would be just dandy)

Catch up...

Some of you have seen these (who am I kidding? Most of you have seen these)... but here they are again, nonetheless....

















And there you have it. 9 weeks to 23 weeks (skipping a few here and there). I was told yesterday that - under no circumstances - would I have to carry beyond October 22nd. I attempted a quick negotiation for 'not beyond October 15th' but the Dr. played the 'God' card and, well, that means I got trumped. But - considering that I already measure 35 weeks, he eluded to the fact that I probably would get my wish, regardless.

Its Late.... but necessary

Ahem...
I would start by saying that "I was wrong." But that would go against everything I believe in, so lets do the right thing and BLAME the Ultrasound lady. She was WRONG!!!! I have dual-penis-proof. TWO BOYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And its necessary that I update tonight so that my friends at the Knocked Up Blog can see that my blog actually works (contrary to what you all may believe these days).

Oh - and because I'm being oh-so-impressive... I've even attached a knocked up photo of myself. See? Its nice when I try to impress those higher than me, no???

I have a secret.....

I know the sex of the babies........
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they are...
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a boy!
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and......
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a girl!

The trip that keeps on going....

As I was on a flight last night from Atlanta to Fort Myers, the guy sitting next to me asked, "Are you going home? or away from home?"
Hmmmm.
Good question, my not-so-much-Friend. Technically, my husband and child are in Atlanta. However, my work is still in Florida.
I played the 'vague' card and answered with "I don't know."
He didn't ask any more questions. And, quite frankly, I was okay with that.

Sleepless in Florida

I don't remember too much about being pregnant with Ava. I have mental snapshots of the pregnancy - then, of course, faint memories of the end. But, then again, I'm not sure if I confuse actual memories with stories that have been told time and time again throughout the past 5 years. The point is - one of the things I DO remember (or think I do) is the sleep. I often referred to pregnant-sleep as "the best sleep ever." So I was far from happy when - the day I found out I was pregnant again - I had a miserable night of sleep. I tossed. I was hot. I was cold. Fast forward six weeks... nothing has changed. Every night is a restless night. And every day is an exhausting day.

"Florida" comes to an end for Fred and Ava in 2 days. Everything is packed up. I love to hear the two of them talk about the BIG ADVENTURE they're going to take on Thursday in a moving truck. They go on-and-on about what color the truck will be (I have a pretty good idea that its yellow... but no way am I bursting their bubble on this one), how they will sit up higher than all of the other cars, and all of the junk food they'll eat along the way. (Nevermind the fact that this daydream will probably come crashing down on my poor kid before they reach Tampa... but, hey - its a good thought.)

for Me

I almost broke away. No more posts. Not because I wanted to... but moreso because I didn't have the time to. I've finished classes. I spend my days (some VERY long days, at that!) brown-nosing various doctors with the hopes that they write 'meets expectations' on my final forms. I have 4 months until graduation. But that's just secondary news around our house.
We're once again surrounded by boxes. In 6 days - we're moving. Back to Georgia, that is. Poor Florida - it didn't stand a chance after the first miserably hot summer. Folks, Florida is for vacation. Period. (okay - wait. Maybe if you are fortunate enough to live on the water, with a swimming pool, and own a boat... then perhaps you may win the "Florida rules!" argument. Otherwise - I win.)Our move is complicated. Very complicated. Lets just say: Fred and Ava are moving before me. I'll jet-set back and forth for a few weeks. Then we'll all 'abandon' our new home for 6 weeks to go live with my mom. Make sense? ... didn't think so.
But you see... the move is even MORE complicated by the fact that we haphazardly signed a lease on a two bedroom apartment (based on the fact that, well, we have no clue where we really want to live. Oh - and based on the fact that neither of us work. but whatever). I say 'haphazardly' because, well, the trump-card-news in all of this is......... I'm pregnant. With twins. 9 weeks. We saw them on Ultrasound today (for the third time). They were growing, healthy, and kicking all over the place. Shall we play FAQs? 1) yes I used fertility drugs (not because I necessarily have fertility problems, but I was rather impatient) 2) yes I plan on finishing school (duh!) 3) yes I'll transfer my care in the middle of my pregnancy 4) yes I'll wait until after they're born to get a job 5) no I don't have a job lined up (hello, last thing on my mind, thankyouverymuch). Anything else???
So - Fred and I have frantically been trying to 'change' our moving plans at the last minute. As in, looking for a larger place. We'll see....
I love reading through old posts on Ava's infancy. I love the photos. So I hope to post more here for the twins.... Speaking of Ava - she starts Kindergarten in 4 months. She is ready. SOOO ready. I am too. She needs other kids to entertain her.... because the thought of continuing to play Littlest Pet Shop for eternity is not so appealing....

Not a Jehovah's Witness

Its 10 am on a Saturday morning... your doorbell rings. Its a 20-something (and quite nerdy looking, but hey - lets be nice, right?) guy. He's selling books. Thats great and wonderful, and all, but... I kinda got an attitude with him. I didn't MEAN to... but, tell me... what would YOU say if this was his 'sales pitch.'

Sales Kid: Hi, I'm (whoever) and I'm from out of the country. I love kids. I see you have a child. Whats her name?
Me (hesitantly): Ava
Him: Very nice. How old?
Me (giving him the evil eye): shes 4.
Him: And what school does she go to?
Me: I'm sorry... who are you?
Him: I'm getting to that. What school did you say she goes to?
Me: Are you selling something?
Him: If you'd let me explain.... Now, do you have any other children.
Me: Okay, I'm sorry, I don't know you and I'm not going to indulge your sales pitch with information about my children. I'm going to go inside.
Him: Are you in a bad mood?
Me: (staring at him, blankly, wondering what PLANET he is from)
...door slam...

Moments later...
Fred: You were MEAN to him!!!!

Point being: my husband is BRAVE... very very very BRAVE in his old age....

Time Out

The longest blogger break ever, right? And I ALMOST didn't come back. ALMOST. But that certainly doesn't mean that I didn't spend countless hours composing posts to you strangers. So - there!

Thanks to the adorable Shanda - I was made aware that my blog had some creepy pop up asking you to enter a name/password, which simply means that my attempt to hack into your computers and steal your social security numbers failed. So - I am hoping that little problem is solved and you no longer see that little thing-a-ma-jig. If you do - you can click CANCEL and I'll only be able to access your date of birth, mother's maiden name, and driver's license number. So just click CANCEL.

Now... lets see... where should I begin? Oh wait. Yes, yes, I deleted all of those mind-posts and decided to start anew with fresh info. Because 'catching' you up would be miserably boring and then you'd have to pretend to care. And well, lets not pretend, okay?

Oh, but I MUST tell you... I am OFFICIALLY done with 'class.' Granted, I still have a YEAR of working for free in not-my-chosen-hospitals throughout the state, but - HEY - I'm done with the classroom! yay me!

Lastly... I'm tinkering with twitter. So if you see weird things - sorry.

OHHHHHH... one more.... you have a tinnnnyy bit of time to visit here: www.laurennicolegifts.com Okay, well, you have FOREVER to visit there, but there is a precious giveaway going on and if you want to enter THAT, then you have until midnight tonight. So - go! And buy me something.

Want gifts??

See Lindsay - who is having a MASSIVE bloggy giveaway!

2009-06-02

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