It has been a crazy long time since I've blogged. You all know the reason for that, so I won't go into details of how I'm the mother of a 10.5 month-old, active, rambunctious, adventurous, brave little dude. That, plus the fact that I'm in Arkansas while Derick is deployed, doesn't allow much down time. When I do have a few extra moments, I like to eat pounds of chocolate and watch an episode of House Hunters. Or just poop with the door closed.
I like being busy. It really helps the days away from mi chiquito fly by. But, I'm helplessly lazy and lacking of energy, so days upon days of being a "single" parent can really take its toll on my body, mind, and, you got it, spirit.
Before you have a baby, you get warned. They tell you that you won't have anymore free time, so you better enjoy it while you can. They tell you that being in bed before 11 p.m. is a luxury, so you better get used to not taking those midnight trips across town for ice cream. They tell you that you're going to lose a little bit of your mind once you pop that munchkin out of yo bod, so you better start doing some extra sudoku to reign in what brain cells you have.
I must admit. I was the typical pregnant gal who said, "ok give me all the advice you want, but he's my baby, and if I have anything to do with it, this (or that) won't happen." Some things happened. Some things haven't. I've stuck to my guns on a few things, and I've let some things slide. Reeve has fallen asleep in bed with me more times than I'd planned. He's eaten some ice cream because I feel bad eating it in front of him. I let him sleep in a pack-n-play basinette attachment for a little too long because I neglected to read the instructions. I've broken some rules and I've done my fair share of "bad parenting."
But I've also reached some goals. Reeve is still receiving his nourishment from breastmilk, despite a lot of struggle, a lot of advice (good and bad), a lot of pain, a lot of frustration, a lot of questioning, a lot of guilt, a lot of success, a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of feeding in the car, a lot LOT of days doing nothing but sitting on the couch in two-day-old clothes with a baby attached to my boob. My life has centered around breastfeeding, and for realz, if you haven't been there/done that, it's hard to understand the magnitude of what that means. THANK GOD for the friends who've been there/done that, are there/ are doing that, and the positive help and support from friends and family who just really care about my desire to breastfeed and their love for Reeve. It takes a dang village, doesn't it, Hillary Clinton?
I've been typing "I" and "my" a lot, but let me not ignore the obvious fact that I'd be in a mental institute right now if it weren't for the incredible patience and help from my husband. Not just during the struggles of breastfeeding, but with everything. After a long, crazy day at work, Derick would come home, exhausted, and take over as caretaker while I took a shower and cried, or sang, or just stood there. He lets me veg out more than what I probably need to. His days are never-ending. He goes to work at an un-Godly hour, gets off at the hour of Satan, barely has time to eat, and then puts on the Daddy-hat for both mine and Reeve's sake. I have it darn good. I can't complain, even on the roughest, craziest, most poop-covered days. I can't complain. Sometimes, I do and I feel like a big brat because really, I can't complain. My life is good.
And it is HARD without Derick here to help, but it is still good and I have a lot of joy.
It's so easy to lose sight of how good I have it. My dude is healthy and happy and just a really good dude. My family is eager to help and play with Reeve and hang out with me. My husband is working really hard to provide for us and serve our country. I have a long list of things for which I'm thankful. It's easy to focus on the few bad things. The tiny, miniature crappy aspects of life that are nothing in the big picture but seem magnified in the moment can be really hard to look over. I usually find myself focusing on those and those alone. But God's been good to remind me that it's important to keep my priorities in check. His Grace is so abundant. I see that every day.
I don't have the time to blog like I used to, but I don't really want it. Looking back on the past 10.5 months, I've been running around like a wild woman, but I also feel super blessed. I've learned so much and I know there is so much more to learn and experience. I'm by no means the world's best mom. I'm so far from it. I do really dumb, selfish things as a mother. I feel really guilty sometimes at the way I act or the things I say. I get scared that Reeve is going to absorb some of the negativity I have. I feel like I'm being irrational for letting him have so much dictatorship when it comes to eating and sleeping. I feel like I'm being lazy when I decide to sit on the couch instead of do some crunches or pig out on cake late at night instead of some carrots. I feel like a bad mom when I let Reeve watch Dora while I sit in the tub and pin things on pinterest. I feel like a failure when I don't read him a story every night. But I'm reminded that being a mother is a true gift from God. It's pretty normal (or so I gather) to feel like we're doing it all wrong. To feel like we are terrible parents when we don't have our junk together 24/7. Let me tell you, I RARELY have anything together for a minute. It's a good day if I brush my teeth before noon. It's a good day if I change underwear. But every day is a great day to just be a mom, and to be alive, and to be forgiven and loved. Don't be so hard on yourself. There really is no such thing as a perfect parent, I don't think. Pinterest has a lot of really great advice articles and links about how to raise a good kid or how to stay in shape with a baby. Those are good, positive things. But, in addition to all that, I think it really just comes down to doing our best, doing what we can. Sometimes our best is just hugging that dude through the chaos of poop and tears and puke and barking dog and lack of coffee and too much chocolate. And doesn't that big ol fat mess paint a really beautiful picture, when we step back and look at it?
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
sorry bout tha space bar
Believe it or not, I'm blogging, and of course I sliced my finger today, making typing all the more difficult. Gollygee, February 4th was the last time I actually took the time to sit down and fill everyone in on my ever-eventful life happenings.I will use Reeve and his constant need for attention (really, son? you need me to care for you 24/7??) (j/k) (don't report me to CPS) as an excuse for my bloggerland hiatus.Also, we got anew TV for the living room earlier this year and moved our laptop/TV set up to the bedroom, requiring a few extra button-pushes if I wanna blog. Ain't nobody got time fa dat. Ok, America, time to stop with that phrase. As I sit on our bed to type this, I am realizing how elderly I truly am. I can hardly read what I'm typing, so forgive me if you see a bunch of mistakes. They aren't due to laziness because we all know I'm the world's most active person ever, and they aren't due to stupidity because I'm crazy smart. I'm just blind. And I'm trying to keep a one-week-from-crawling baby away from the keyboard and on the bed at the same time. Don't quote me on the one week from crawling thing. It could be several, but dang, just last week, I turned my back for literally two seconds and that dude was halfway across the room. No more laying him in the floor on his back with potentially harmful objects out of reach. He can and will make his way to the objects. (I don't leave knives laying around the house, but ya know.)
Since we are on the subject of Reeve, I'll let you know now that he is the world's coolest, funniest, strangest baby ever. Everyone has the best baby, and I am no exception. He has the most pleasant demeanor. I'm so jealous of his calm nature and happiness. I'm convinced God sent him to me to teach me about my personality and attitude. He gave Reeve to us for so many reasons, and I discover new ones every day.
It's so strange to look back to last year. A year ago this weekend, Derick and I were at the Azalea Festival in Wilmington, and I had to tote my paper-towel covered gatorade bottle around because of my--what I would call "severe"--case of ptyalism. If you're a new reader, I encourage you to look back at my oh-so-exciting accounts of my pregnancy. If there was a symptom, you can bet I had it, but I'm very gracious of the opportunity to become pregnant, and I continue to be humbled that God chose me to mother such a great baby--who needs me at the moment.
Back! Reeve is so funny when he eats. He's been slapping me in the face and grabbing my lip with his free hand, and I think it might mean that he wants me to rub his hair. I do that at night when I'm when he's falling asleep and eating, and I always say, "you're one of the good guys." I've done that since he was a teeny ol thang. Maybe that relaxes him because when I rub his head, he stops grabbing my face.Babies and the way they communicate are really funny. Just now while he was eating, I handed him one of Parisann's stuffed animals and he started giggling. So cute.
[Forgive me for the weird spacing issues. The space bar on this keyboard is out of control.]
So, we have a pretty eventful year coming up as we face our first deployment. I can't deny my gratitude for the blessing of having Derick here this whole time. He was actually supposed to have deployed a couple weeks before Reeve was born, and if he had, he would still be gone.Tough to imagine going all this time without introducing Reeve to his daddy, but I have some crazy strong friends who have dealt/are dealing with that. I'm so encouraged by the strength of military wives. There's something to be said about women who can just roll with the dang punches while their husbands are off fighting in a war. Puts a lot of stuff into perspective, really. I mean, how spoiled am I that my husband gets to come home (almost) every night and help me with our son? I pray for the same resilience that my friends have. Being away from the one you love is tough, whether it's a few hours or a few months. That stinks. But I love the encouragement I get from my friends who hold it down, and I love it when they are reunited with their Marines (or respective servicemember). My friend, Beth, just welcomed her Marine home this week, and I was just so happy for that little family.
Well, it's getting late around here, and I still have one of the good guys who probably needs a diaper change. BuenosNoche
Since we are on the subject of Reeve, I'll let you know now that he is the world's coolest, funniest, strangest baby ever. Everyone has the best baby, and I am no exception. He has the most pleasant demeanor. I'm so jealous of his calm nature and happiness. I'm convinced God sent him to me to teach me about my personality and attitude. He gave Reeve to us for so many reasons, and I discover new ones every day.
It's so strange to look back to last year. A year ago this weekend, Derick and I were at the Azalea Festival in Wilmington, and I had to tote my paper-towel covered gatorade bottle around because of my--what I would call "severe"--case of ptyalism. If you're a new reader, I encourage you to look back at my oh-so-exciting accounts of my pregnancy. If there was a symptom, you can bet I had it, but I'm very gracious of the opportunity to become pregnant, and I continue to be humbled that God chose me to mother such a great baby--who needs me at the moment.
Back! Reeve is so funny when he eats. He's been slapping me in the face and grabbing my lip with his free hand, and I think it might mean that he wants me to rub his hair. I do that at night when I'm when he's falling asleep and eating, and I always say, "you're one of the good guys." I've done that since he was a teeny ol thang. Maybe that relaxes him because when I rub his head, he stops grabbing my face.Babies and the way they communicate are really funny. Just now while he was eating, I handed him one of Parisann's stuffed animals and he started giggling. So cute.
[Forgive me for the weird spacing issues. The space bar on this keyboard is out of control.]
So, we have a pretty eventful year coming up as we face our first deployment. I can't deny my gratitude for the blessing of having Derick here this whole time. He was actually supposed to have deployed a couple weeks before Reeve was born, and if he had, he would still be gone.Tough to imagine going all this time without introducing Reeve to his daddy, but I have some crazy strong friends who have dealt/are dealing with that. I'm so encouraged by the strength of military wives. There's something to be said about women who can just roll with the dang punches while their husbands are off fighting in a war. Puts a lot of stuff into perspective, really. I mean, how spoiled am I that my husband gets to come home (almost) every night and help me with our son? I pray for the same resilience that my friends have. Being away from the one you love is tough, whether it's a few hours or a few months. That stinks. But I love the encouragement I get from my friends who hold it down, and I love it when they are reunited with their Marines (or respective servicemember). My friend, Beth, just welcomed her Marine home this week, and I was just so happy for that little family.
Well, it's getting late around here, and I still have one of the good guys who probably needs a diaper change. BuenosNoche
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Trick
How long has it been since my last post? There for a while I was a blogging machine! Alas, a baby, a filthy house, a high-maintenance diva dog, and a military man can surely zap the time and energy out of ya. That's not a bad thing. Where the heck has the last year gone? Gosh, this time last year, I was newly-impregnated (thanks D and God), and I was beginning to feel the effects of such. Looking back, 2012 was the best year ever. All the puking (mine and Reeve's) and spitting (again, mine and Reeve's) and crying (you get the picture, right?) added up to give me such a joyful, humbling initiation to the greatest job on earth: motherhood. I love being a mom, and I hope that I'm not too terrible at it.
Reeve is pretty incredible. We hear all the time that he is the "happiest baby ever," and I agree. It makes me wonder, though, what if I had a turd of a baby? What if our baby behaved more like our Lhasa Apso (no offense, princess Paris)? I've had my share of breakdowns as a mother and Wearer of All Hats, but Reeve's especially calm and happy nature has helped me to not reach complete insanity. The "what if" lingers in the back of my mind, though, perhaps as a message of warning or a call for gratitude. Either way, I think this is how you get sucked into having multiple kids. For a few weeks, I was bound and determined to be the mother of ONE. Those first weeks were tough, I won't lie. We were trying to figure out breastfeeding and sleeping and just thinking straight. For the first time ever, I was convinced I wanted to have ONE child and ONE child only. Not because R was a bad baby, but because it's just a hard freakin' job, regardless if you are the mother of an angel baby or devil baby. It's difficult to go from "I" and "we" to "HIM." But time and prayer (LOTS of prayer) and understanding and SLEEP will eventually get you through those first weeks of adjustment. Then, you realize how much you love being a mom. Breastfeeding gets easier, the poop sessions become less frequent, you throw on a little bit of mascara and change out of your sweatpants and think, "Ok, maybe I'm not the world's worst mom." You decide that you could, one day in the faaaar future, possibly be responsible for another life. That's how you get tricked, and that's when the "what if" question presents itself. What if Reeve's good demeanor has spoiled me, and our next baby is a terror, and I lose my wits, and the poop hits the fan!? Then you look into the most beautiful eyes of the most perfect person ever created, and you realize that, even on the worst of the worst days, everything is and will always be worth it. This is NOT to say that we are planning to have another baby ANYTIME soon...but I'm trying to prove the point that being a mom is hard, but doable, and totally worth it.
Reeve is funny and smart. He loves to be scared. He loves when you wipe is face or pull clothes over his head. He loves to pinch his sister, and he is actually the only person who's ever gotten away with it. I hope that lasts. I think any day now he is going to roll from his back to his belly. He gets pretty dang close, but he gets stuck. Maybe I'll try to let him do it naked so he has more wiggle room. He sleeps from about 11-6 on a good night. On the worst night that we've had recently, he fell asleep at about 1230 and woke up a couple times after that. He can sleep until 11am or later. He is just like his mom, and I am not complaining one bit.
I've realized that it works best if I get my lazy butt up before he gets up so that I can have some time to myself (and Paris) before our days begin. Normally, I just make some coffee and watch Netflix and pet Paris, but sometimes I feel really domestic and do a load of laundry.
It's so nice to live on base because Derick works just five minutes down the road, and he comes home for lunch everyday. It's nice that Reeve gets that extra hour with him, and by that time, I really need to poop, so Daddy takes over.
Paris is slowly adjusting, and she gets better every day. She's always been extra kind to her brother, other than the occasional brisk sashay across his belly. She had a hard time in the beginning when I was alone and couldn't take her out to pee. A fence would have come in handy back then, but now that things are *a tad more* calm around here, we've figured out a slight routine, and she's doing better. I'm proud of my girl. She's very much a diva, and she was the only child for six years, so for her to do this well, I am grateful.
We've all changed by the presence of this little guy, but I think we are doing well. We are definitely having fun!!
Well, someone is ready for some attention, so excuse the errors. Editing is the last thing on my list. Right below shaving my legs. Have a wonderful weeeeeeeek:)
Reeve is pretty incredible. We hear all the time that he is the "happiest baby ever," and I agree. It makes me wonder, though, what if I had a turd of a baby? What if our baby behaved more like our Lhasa Apso (no offense, princess Paris)? I've had my share of breakdowns as a mother and Wearer of All Hats, but Reeve's especially calm and happy nature has helped me to not reach complete insanity. The "what if" lingers in the back of my mind, though, perhaps as a message of warning or a call for gratitude. Either way, I think this is how you get sucked into having multiple kids. For a few weeks, I was bound and determined to be the mother of ONE. Those first weeks were tough, I won't lie. We were trying to figure out breastfeeding and sleeping and just thinking straight. For the first time ever, I was convinced I wanted to have ONE child and ONE child only. Not because R was a bad baby, but because it's just a hard freakin' job, regardless if you are the mother of an angel baby or devil baby. It's difficult to go from "I" and "we" to "HIM." But time and prayer (LOTS of prayer) and understanding and SLEEP will eventually get you through those first weeks of adjustment. Then, you realize how much you love being a mom. Breastfeeding gets easier, the poop sessions become less frequent, you throw on a little bit of mascara and change out of your sweatpants and think, "Ok, maybe I'm not the world's worst mom." You decide that you could, one day in the faaaar future, possibly be responsible for another life. That's how you get tricked, and that's when the "what if" question presents itself. What if Reeve's good demeanor has spoiled me, and our next baby is a terror, and I lose my wits, and the poop hits the fan!? Then you look into the most beautiful eyes of the most perfect person ever created, and you realize that, even on the worst of the worst days, everything is and will always be worth it. This is NOT to say that we are planning to have another baby ANYTIME soon...but I'm trying to prove the point that being a mom is hard, but doable, and totally worth it.
Reeve is funny and smart. He loves to be scared. He loves when you wipe is face or pull clothes over his head. He loves to pinch his sister, and he is actually the only person who's ever gotten away with it. I hope that lasts. I think any day now he is going to roll from his back to his belly. He gets pretty dang close, but he gets stuck. Maybe I'll try to let him do it naked so he has more wiggle room. He sleeps from about 11-6 on a good night. On the worst night that we've had recently, he fell asleep at about 1230 and woke up a couple times after that. He can sleep until 11am or later. He is just like his mom, and I am not complaining one bit.
I've realized that it works best if I get my lazy butt up before he gets up so that I can have some time to myself (and Paris) before our days begin. Normally, I just make some coffee and watch Netflix and pet Paris, but sometimes I feel really domestic and do a load of laundry.
It's so nice to live on base because Derick works just five minutes down the road, and he comes home for lunch everyday. It's nice that Reeve gets that extra hour with him, and by that time, I really need to poop, so Daddy takes over.
Paris is slowly adjusting, and she gets better every day. She's always been extra kind to her brother, other than the occasional brisk sashay across his belly. She had a hard time in the beginning when I was alone and couldn't take her out to pee. A fence would have come in handy back then, but now that things are *a tad more* calm around here, we've figured out a slight routine, and she's doing better. I'm proud of my girl. She's very much a diva, and she was the only child for six years, so for her to do this well, I am grateful.
We've all changed by the presence of this little guy, but I think we are doing well. We are definitely having fun!!
Well, someone is ready for some attention, so excuse the errors. Editing is the last thing on my list. Right below shaving my legs. Have a wonderful weeeeeeeek:)
Thursday, December 6, 2012
"The Bearer of Goodness"
Two days in a row. Can you believe it? Here is a little poem that I threw together.
"Reeve, the bearer of goodness"
he is every ounce of sunlight that sneaks in through the blinds of my dreary house on a rainy day in December.
he is the last burst of energy i get in the morning after a sleepless night.
he is the scent of new memories.
he is the sound of familiar laughter.
he is a little prince, noble and kind.
he is a piece of magic.
he is a Southern gentleman.
he is the fill of the void in my heart.
he is every mile between what was and what is.
he is the Bearer of Goodness.
he is the song that never seems old.
he is the summer that never ends.
he is the ocean waves in the middle of the desert.
he is a new chapter.
he is all my favorite movies in one.
he is all that matters.
he is my now.
he is my then.
he is my will be.
he is my forever.
he is what was missing.
he is the best of us.
he is us.
he is us.
he holds all i am in two tiny hands that he can't completely control yet,
and i know i am finally safe
and at home.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
too many of my blogs are about poop
What a crazy day, and it's only 3:00. There are so many things I need to do. I need to work out. I've done so well for the past two days. I've made it over to the community gym with Reeve, which is an accomplishment in itself. I've walked/ran for an average of about 15 minutes, which is really great for me, considering I HATE running and I have terrible form. I've lifted weights and done a few ab exercises, until Reeve exclaimed "I'M DONE WITH THIS GARBAGE," and we head home. I'm not fat, and I'm not dissatisfied with my body. I'd say I don't look half bad after giving birth to a nearly nine-pound boy and not being able to do much rigorous activity throughout the duration of my entire pregnancy. However, there are a couple of target areas that are, well, different than they were pre-pregnancy. I know I will never look quite the way I did before, and that's ok, but my health is important to me, thus I've been more adamant about going to the gym or doing some sort of activity during the day.
Speaking of health, I'm downing my third cup of coffee for the day. This one is decaf, but hopefully it's sending some sort of caffeinated messages to my body and brain, telling me to keep on trucking.
It's been a mell of a hess around here today, let me tell ya. First, though, Reeve and I went to story time at the library. Wednesdays have become my favorite days of the week because of these thirty minutes at the public library. Yes, it is wild and crazy to get Reeve up and ready and changed fifty times and fed and myself fed and clothed and teeth brushed and at least most of the snot and puke out of my hair and Paris appeased. Some days I just gawk at myself in amazement of the little things I can accomplish. But once we are at the library, all the craziness seems to drift off my shoulders. My little boy, the youngest one there, completely lights up when he hears the songs and sees all the kids interacting. He's so attentive. His smile melts my heart. Maybe these moments are near and dear to me because I remember some of the most fun days spent presenting storytime at the Craighead County Jonesboro Public Library. I loved hanging out with the storytime kids and reading books to them. So, when I see my own son loving storytime, I'm pretty overwhelmed with emotion and blessings. Very small tidbit, but so huge in my heart.
After storytime, I planned to hit up Michael's (which I did), and head to the MCX for a plunger (to plunge the currently backed-up sewer we have in our house), an extension cord, and some gift boxes. I also needed to go to the commissary so that Derick, Paris, I, and essentially, Reeve, don't starve. However, after Michael's, as I debated on whether or not to swing in to Chick-fil-A to treat myself, I heard a grunt from the backseat. You may know what came next. If not, the answer is poop. So, home again, home again we went to change the dipe and scarf down some very leftover Panda Express rice. I fed Reeve and -knock, knock, knock- here comes the maintenance man to fix my dishwasher. Nice guy, other than the fact that he told me to ONLY use 1/3 cup of detergent...(I use less than that anyway, but thanks). Paris was tee-totally against the maintenance man's presence and threw a fit the whole time. Disregard the fact that the man's unannounced visit interrupted Reeve's lunch. Oh well. I should've asked the guy to check out our sewer, but I was embarrassed of what he might find.
SO, the gym was a no-go, as was the comm, post office, and MCX. Our toilet in the back is still overtaken, and who knows if the dishwasher works. My reflux-inflicted son has puked on more clothes than I like to think about this week. But 'tis the season!
I'm blessed with a good life. I have a husband that loves me and helps me out when I need it and doesn't judge my usually-wild appearance. I have a dog that guards me from potentially threatening--and very non-threatening--situations. I have an adorable baby who smiles and laughs at me like I'm the funniest person on earth. Though I didn't make it to the commissary, we still have some food. Though I didn't make it to the gym, I can still fit in my clothes. Though I didn't get to the MCX for a plunger, we have another bathroom.
I feel very grateful and humble to live the life I live. I'm glad I was raised to not obsess over material things or money or possessions. This time of year is far too wonderful to waste it worrying about gifts and credit cards and worldly crap that will eventually wear out. It's pretty easy to get wrapped up in all that, and I am guilty of wanting this and that. My parents always reminded me the true reason for Christmas, not only at Christmastime, but throughout the year, throughout my life. I hope I can teach Reeve the significance of Christmas. My prayer is that he learns about that Sacrifice at a young age and he grasps onto that promise with all his might. I'm a failure at that. I easily and frequently lose sight of what's important, but I hope my boy isn't as wavering as his mama. I do hope he inherits my incredible good looks and charm, though;);)
Happy Wednesday!
Speaking of health, I'm downing my third cup of coffee for the day. This one is decaf, but hopefully it's sending some sort of caffeinated messages to my body and brain, telling me to keep on trucking.
It's been a mell of a hess around here today, let me tell ya. First, though, Reeve and I went to story time at the library. Wednesdays have become my favorite days of the week because of these thirty minutes at the public library. Yes, it is wild and crazy to get Reeve up and ready and changed fifty times and fed and myself fed and clothed and teeth brushed and at least most of the snot and puke out of my hair and Paris appeased. Some days I just gawk at myself in amazement of the little things I can accomplish. But once we are at the library, all the craziness seems to drift off my shoulders. My little boy, the youngest one there, completely lights up when he hears the songs and sees all the kids interacting. He's so attentive. His smile melts my heart. Maybe these moments are near and dear to me because I remember some of the most fun days spent presenting storytime at the Craighead County Jonesboro Public Library. I loved hanging out with the storytime kids and reading books to them. So, when I see my own son loving storytime, I'm pretty overwhelmed with emotion and blessings. Very small tidbit, but so huge in my heart.
After storytime, I planned to hit up Michael's (which I did), and head to the MCX for a plunger (to plunge the currently backed-up sewer we have in our house), an extension cord, and some gift boxes. I also needed to go to the commissary so that Derick, Paris, I, and essentially, Reeve, don't starve. However, after Michael's, as I debated on whether or not to swing in to Chick-fil-A to treat myself, I heard a grunt from the backseat. You may know what came next. If not, the answer is poop. So, home again, home again we went to change the dipe and scarf down some very leftover Panda Express rice. I fed Reeve and -knock, knock, knock- here comes the maintenance man to fix my dishwasher. Nice guy, other than the fact that he told me to ONLY use 1/3 cup of detergent...(I use less than that anyway, but thanks). Paris was tee-totally against the maintenance man's presence and threw a fit the whole time. Disregard the fact that the man's unannounced visit interrupted Reeve's lunch. Oh well. I should've asked the guy to check out our sewer, but I was embarrassed of what he might find.
SO, the gym was a no-go, as was the comm, post office, and MCX. Our toilet in the back is still overtaken, and who knows if the dishwasher works. My reflux-inflicted son has puked on more clothes than I like to think about this week. But 'tis the season!
I'm blessed with a good life. I have a husband that loves me and helps me out when I need it and doesn't judge my usually-wild appearance. I have a dog that guards me from potentially threatening--and very non-threatening--situations. I have an adorable baby who smiles and laughs at me like I'm the funniest person on earth. Though I didn't make it to the commissary, we still have some food. Though I didn't make it to the gym, I can still fit in my clothes. Though I didn't get to the MCX for a plunger, we have another bathroom.
I feel very grateful and humble to live the life I live. I'm glad I was raised to not obsess over material things or money or possessions. This time of year is far too wonderful to waste it worrying about gifts and credit cards and worldly crap that will eventually wear out. It's pretty easy to get wrapped up in all that, and I am guilty of wanting this and that. My parents always reminded me the true reason for Christmas, not only at Christmastime, but throughout the year, throughout my life. I hope I can teach Reeve the significance of Christmas. My prayer is that he learns about that Sacrifice at a young age and he grasps onto that promise with all his might. I'm a failure at that. I easily and frequently lose sight of what's important, but I hope my boy isn't as wavering as his mama. I do hope he inherits my incredible good looks and charm, though;);)
Happy Wednesday!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
a little update
Reeve is asleep in our bed, and I'm working on my second cup of coffee. Yeah, yeah. Look back to my previous posts where I bashed caffeine. Kiss it. I had my first full-fledged, medium-sized, post-natal coffee a couple of weeks ago, and I haven't looked back since. Derick replaced my ancient, minature coffee maker with a fancy Keurig for Christmas, so I just feel entitled, I guess. There are a lot of things I damned before Reeve Magnus was here, but now I embrace them with joy and gladness. Never say never.
One thing I have stuck with is the co-sleeping thing. Hence, Reeve's in our bed and I'm up drinking coffee and pinning. I'm not against co-sleeping, and I really understand the helpfullness and bonding aspect. It's just not for us because 1) Derick is wild in his sleep. I can't guarantee that he won't punch me or Reeve or Paris while he's sleeping. 2)Though I'm historically a light sleeper, these interrupted nights have changed my sleeping patterns into pretty heavy bouts. Thus, Reeve sleeps in a swing, we get the bed. I've negotiated by allowing him to sleep in our bed once I'm up or fully awake. This doesn't happen often, but this week has been hard on the little guy, so I thought he might like to get some extra rest. He sleeps so wonderfully in our bed. It's quite comfy.
Things have been going really well here, and I'm super busy, so I have no time for blogging. If you see that I've been pinning stuff or "liking" posts, most likely, Reeve has fallen asleep while eating, and I don't have the heart to detach him. He can hang out there, latched on, for a really long time, and in order for me to not fall asleep--or die of boredom-- I've taken up Derick's strategy of pinning/fb while holding him.
You can probably tell that the breastfeeding thing is going well. We've been able to create a nice bond, and I feel like we communicate better everyday. Sometimes, I can tell by certain facial expressions that he wants to eat. It's much more pleasant to begin to feed him well before the crying starts. In the early days, it was a mess. He had a hard time waking up because of the jaundice; I had a hard time letting him sleep because of the jaundice, his need for food, and our need to establish some early connections. He'd cry and get frustrated when he couldn't latch quickly, and I didn't really know what I was doing so I just did what I could. He'd finally latch and I'd feel so much pain! If he came off, it was always a struggle that involved even more pain and frustration. Now, though, we have the hang of it, and I think we both really enjoy it. The only problems I've had are constantly leaky boobies and outings that involve several feedings. Those aren't problems, though. Rather, they are adjustments, and if it takes me 3 hours in town when it used take 30 minutes, that's fine. :)
It's heartbreaking and joyful to watch my baby grow up. He learns so much everyday, and already has a funny personality. I think he's going to act a lot like his mama, and that scares his daddy. He looks so much like Derick, it's kind of weird. As he develops, I see more and more of Derick's features. Some days I look at him and stand in awe of God because of His wisdom and grace. So cool that he nominated us to be the parents of this perfect little baby.
Don't let my bragging and happiness make you think I have it all together, because I don't, and I'm sure I never will. I still get frustrated at times. My house is always messy, and that bothers me. I can clean and clean and clean, and the next day, it seems like everything is crazy again. I am forgetful, sensitive, overly-critical, worrisome, and I don't always have things prioritized as they should be. But God is gracious, and He blesses me with wonderful days and moments that make me forget all about the craziness of life.
Like all parents, I want to be perfect. I want Reeve to be constantly learning and gaining wisdom. I want to always speak to him with the right words and tone. I want to give him what he needs, but not turn him greedy by bombarding him with junk and everything he wants. I want him to feel love and tenderness and constant attention. I want him to be compassionate and hardworking, generous and patient, respectful and honest. But I look deep inside myself and wonder sometimes how I can raise him to be all those noble things when I fail miserably. Thank God Reeve has a daddy who isn't as reckless as I am. I think as parents, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to be this and do that for our kids. We'll never ever get everything right. We're human and destined to screw up. But I think children have a little magic in their spirit and they can naturally sense when we try. If we are trying to be good parents, our intentions usually outshine our mess-ups. In my case, there were a couple times when I was uber selfish and just wanted a moment to myself. I just needed to cry and not be needed all the time. This made me feel so much guilt early on. Like I was neglecting my baby. I feared we wouldn't develop a bond and he would sense my frustration and selfishness. Even as a baby, Reeve was patient while I learned how to get with the program. Babies are pretty incredible. I'm quite positive they are all born with an immense amount of God in them...maybe as we all grow older and absorb more and more of the world, our goodness slowly vanishes and turns into more of a need of God, rather than a likeness?
I have the best baby in the world, and if you are a parent, so do you. My baby is more incredible than I ever could have imagined. He's filled with poop and spit up and snot, but all those things fill my days with happiness and love.
I hope I'm doing the same for his days:)
One thing I have stuck with is the co-sleeping thing. Hence, Reeve's in our bed and I'm up drinking coffee and pinning. I'm not against co-sleeping, and I really understand the helpfullness and bonding aspect. It's just not for us because 1) Derick is wild in his sleep. I can't guarantee that he won't punch me or Reeve or Paris while he's sleeping. 2)Though I'm historically a light sleeper, these interrupted nights have changed my sleeping patterns into pretty heavy bouts. Thus, Reeve sleeps in a swing, we get the bed. I've negotiated by allowing him to sleep in our bed once I'm up or fully awake. This doesn't happen often, but this week has been hard on the little guy, so I thought he might like to get some extra rest. He sleeps so wonderfully in our bed. It's quite comfy.
Things have been going really well here, and I'm super busy, so I have no time for blogging. If you see that I've been pinning stuff or "liking" posts, most likely, Reeve has fallen asleep while eating, and I don't have the heart to detach him. He can hang out there, latched on, for a really long time, and in order for me to not fall asleep--or die of boredom-- I've taken up Derick's strategy of pinning/fb while holding him.
You can probably tell that the breastfeeding thing is going well. We've been able to create a nice bond, and I feel like we communicate better everyday. Sometimes, I can tell by certain facial expressions that he wants to eat. It's much more pleasant to begin to feed him well before the crying starts. In the early days, it was a mess. He had a hard time waking up because of the jaundice; I had a hard time letting him sleep because of the jaundice, his need for food, and our need to establish some early connections. He'd cry and get frustrated when he couldn't latch quickly, and I didn't really know what I was doing so I just did what I could. He'd finally latch and I'd feel so much pain! If he came off, it was always a struggle that involved even more pain and frustration. Now, though, we have the hang of it, and I think we both really enjoy it. The only problems I've had are constantly leaky boobies and outings that involve several feedings. Those aren't problems, though. Rather, they are adjustments, and if it takes me 3 hours in town when it used take 30 minutes, that's fine. :)
It's heartbreaking and joyful to watch my baby grow up. He learns so much everyday, and already has a funny personality. I think he's going to act a lot like his mama, and that scares his daddy. He looks so much like Derick, it's kind of weird. As he develops, I see more and more of Derick's features. Some days I look at him and stand in awe of God because of His wisdom and grace. So cool that he nominated us to be the parents of this perfect little baby.
Don't let my bragging and happiness make you think I have it all together, because I don't, and I'm sure I never will. I still get frustrated at times. My house is always messy, and that bothers me. I can clean and clean and clean, and the next day, it seems like everything is crazy again. I am forgetful, sensitive, overly-critical, worrisome, and I don't always have things prioritized as they should be. But God is gracious, and He blesses me with wonderful days and moments that make me forget all about the craziness of life.
Like all parents, I want to be perfect. I want Reeve to be constantly learning and gaining wisdom. I want to always speak to him with the right words and tone. I want to give him what he needs, but not turn him greedy by bombarding him with junk and everything he wants. I want him to feel love and tenderness and constant attention. I want him to be compassionate and hardworking, generous and patient, respectful and honest. But I look deep inside myself and wonder sometimes how I can raise him to be all those noble things when I fail miserably. Thank God Reeve has a daddy who isn't as reckless as I am. I think as parents, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to be this and do that for our kids. We'll never ever get everything right. We're human and destined to screw up. But I think children have a little magic in their spirit and they can naturally sense when we try. If we are trying to be good parents, our intentions usually outshine our mess-ups. In my case, there were a couple times when I was uber selfish and just wanted a moment to myself. I just needed to cry and not be needed all the time. This made me feel so much guilt early on. Like I was neglecting my baby. I feared we wouldn't develop a bond and he would sense my frustration and selfishness. Even as a baby, Reeve was patient while I learned how to get with the program. Babies are pretty incredible. I'm quite positive they are all born with an immense amount of God in them...maybe as we all grow older and absorb more and more of the world, our goodness slowly vanishes and turns into more of a need of God, rather than a likeness?
I have the best baby in the world, and if you are a parent, so do you. My baby is more incredible than I ever could have imagined. He's filled with poop and spit up and snot, but all those things fill my days with happiness and love.
I hope I'm doing the same for his days:)
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
I'm hungeeeeeee
I've decided to try to sneak in a post while Reeve naps. Can you believe this is his first nap since the last time I posted?? Not really, but it feels like it. Having a baby is seriously a full-time job. Full-time as in 24/7. Those previous full-time jobs I had were a joke compared to this. This job is the most incredible job, for sure, though, and it's also the most difficult. Everything everyone tells you about becoming a new mom is true. Ok, probably not everything, but a lot of things.
I will interject here and admit that I had a pretty rough start to new mommyhood. Not looking for sympathy, but it was definitely a difficult transition, and that, combined with CRAZY hormones and immense lack of sleep and a torn-apart body, made for some pretty nutty moments in the Roberts household. That's all I will say about that...
because...
Every dark moment has been illuminated by about five hundred beautiful moments. Reeve is in the smiley stage right now, and he smiles at nearly anything. When I see his smile, everything else is just meaningless. Sometimes he smiles so much, it turns into laughs. I love his laugh. I love that he thinks the windows and lamps are hilarious. I love that when he poops he lets out a holler. I love that he forcefully headbutts me when he's hungry. I love that when he's hungry, his cry sounds like he's yelling, "HUNGEEEEEE!!" I love when I pick him up out of his swing at 3 a.m., he immediately stops whimpering and complaining to smile at me. I love everything about Reeve. Even the poop and puke and snot. And boy, have we had a lot of that lately!
I finally vacuumed my floors for the first time since Mom left. It made me feel like a brand new woman. Now I just need to put away the twenty pounds of laundry, and I'll be good to go. I've requested a maid--preferably bilingual so that Reeve can learn a new language--for Christmas. Actually, here's my real request: a couch! We have a microsuadish couch. Nice for sitting. Not so nice for repelling poop, puke, snot, and everything else that comes out of baby.
Some of you may be wondering about the cloth diapering. It's going really, really well. We just overcame an ammonia outbreak, so we had to use some disposables for a while. He's no longer using his prefolds and covers. He's in big boy diapers now, and they are so simple. I've invested in some quality detergent to put my mind (and potential rashes) at ease, and everything's gone smoothly. We've saved a ton of money already, I've noticed, because those disposables add up! They do come in handy when rashes break out, though, so I was a little naive thinking he'd never, ever wear one. I've had a ton of "never say never" moments, and those require a post just for themselves.
Reeve is still sleeping in the swing, though we've moved it from the actual swing base to the floor. (Thank you, Angela, I'd still be running on fumes if it weren't for that swing!) He has some reflux, but his medication seems to be helping that a little, and he has yucky congestion just like his daddy. He does not like sleeping on his back, and when he does he grunts and gags and sounds like he's choking, so it keeps me awake. However, today, he took two naps on the couch on his back/side. He will do that from time to time, but at night, it's the swing or bust.
Nursing has become a LOT easier, knock on wood. Just ask a few of my breastfeeding friends: I was kinda a crazy person. It was terribly painful, so I almost feared the feedings. I didn't like that at all. I didn't want to be afraid to feed my son, but with sleep deprivation and not taking a shower for a few days, the physical pain was probably intensified by the emotional/psychological pain. I was also convinced that Reeve was sensing my negativity. He could somehow feel that I was uncomfortable, and it made him uncomfortable. I was told over and over that he didn't sense that. Instead, he just knew that his mom was giving him what he needed and he was happy, but it was still hard for me to get that out of my mind. Breastfeeding improves daily, though, and I'm giving glory to the Lord for that. I'm really adamant on breastfeeding Reeve, and it was challenging when it was so painful. I enjoy it more now, and I feel like he does, too.
Paris continues to do well with Reeve. She lets him kick her when he's sleeping or just playing. Sometimes when he's crying, she gets in his face and it makes him happy. She's been really great about sharing the attention. She was our only girl for six years, so I know it was hard, and she is still stubborn, but she doesn't bite or pee on Reeve, so I'd say she's ok with him. She actually ate his poop out of a diaper on the floor yesterday, so she certainly loves him.
I know that I've had to adapt as well, of course. I sleep with the bathroom light on so that I can get a clear view of Reeve and don't trip over stuff when I get up to feed him at night. I brush my teeth, use the bathroom, eat when I can--not when I want. My nightly routine that was almost OCDesque is pretty much out the window. Decorating and crafting and rearranging and buying house stuff is last on my list. I can say no to any cute/affordable article of clothing for myself, but when it comes to cute 0-3 month boy stuff, I'm uncontainable.
My whole life revolves around a tiny little boy that pees all over the place and poops and cries and punches me, and I have never ever been more happy. Before Reeve, I was pretty set on not losing myself once he was here. I wanted to maintain some Kem, but instead I've been completely altered. Everything about me is different, and I'm fine with that. He's my life. If I have to say no to things that I used to be all on-board with, it doesn't upset me. If it takes three hours to get ready to go and we end up going to the late service at church or eating lunch at 3 pm, I'm fine. My house is in shambles and I usually look homeless on most days, but after six months, I think I can say that I'm doing my job. If I was put together and living in a spotless house, that would definitely mean either someone else or no one was raising my baby.
Life is really great. It's hard a lot of times, but Reeve Magnus is the sunshine in all my days. I look forward to each new day, but I also just wish time would stop so that I could hold every moment in my hands for a little longer. He's growing so fast, and that's been hard to deal with at times, but I look forward to his future, and I pray that I can contribute something good to his life.
Mommy loves you, Reeve Magnus Roberts, my muscle man!
I will interject here and admit that I had a pretty rough start to new mommyhood. Not looking for sympathy, but it was definitely a difficult transition, and that, combined with CRAZY hormones and immense lack of sleep and a torn-apart body, made for some pretty nutty moments in the Roberts household. That's all I will say about that...
because...
Every dark moment has been illuminated by about five hundred beautiful moments. Reeve is in the smiley stage right now, and he smiles at nearly anything. When I see his smile, everything else is just meaningless. Sometimes he smiles so much, it turns into laughs. I love his laugh. I love that he thinks the windows and lamps are hilarious. I love that when he poops he lets out a holler. I love that he forcefully headbutts me when he's hungry. I love that when he's hungry, his cry sounds like he's yelling, "HUNGEEEEEE!!" I love when I pick him up out of his swing at 3 a.m., he immediately stops whimpering and complaining to smile at me. I love everything about Reeve. Even the poop and puke and snot. And boy, have we had a lot of that lately!
I finally vacuumed my floors for the first time since Mom left. It made me feel like a brand new woman. Now I just need to put away the twenty pounds of laundry, and I'll be good to go. I've requested a maid--preferably bilingual so that Reeve can learn a new language--for Christmas. Actually, here's my real request: a couch! We have a microsuadish couch. Nice for sitting. Not so nice for repelling poop, puke, snot, and everything else that comes out of baby.
Some of you may be wondering about the cloth diapering. It's going really, really well. We just overcame an ammonia outbreak, so we had to use some disposables for a while. He's no longer using his prefolds and covers. He's in big boy diapers now, and they are so simple. I've invested in some quality detergent to put my mind (and potential rashes) at ease, and everything's gone smoothly. We've saved a ton of money already, I've noticed, because those disposables add up! They do come in handy when rashes break out, though, so I was a little naive thinking he'd never, ever wear one. I've had a ton of "never say never" moments, and those require a post just for themselves.
Reeve is still sleeping in the swing, though we've moved it from the actual swing base to the floor. (Thank you, Angela, I'd still be running on fumes if it weren't for that swing!) He has some reflux, but his medication seems to be helping that a little, and he has yucky congestion just like his daddy. He does not like sleeping on his back, and when he does he grunts and gags and sounds like he's choking, so it keeps me awake. However, today, he took two naps on the couch on his back/side. He will do that from time to time, but at night, it's the swing or bust.
Nursing has become a LOT easier, knock on wood. Just ask a few of my breastfeeding friends: I was kinda a crazy person. It was terribly painful, so I almost feared the feedings. I didn't like that at all. I didn't want to be afraid to feed my son, but with sleep deprivation and not taking a shower for a few days, the physical pain was probably intensified by the emotional/psychological pain. I was also convinced that Reeve was sensing my negativity. He could somehow feel that I was uncomfortable, and it made him uncomfortable. I was told over and over that he didn't sense that. Instead, he just knew that his mom was giving him what he needed and he was happy, but it was still hard for me to get that out of my mind. Breastfeeding improves daily, though, and I'm giving glory to the Lord for that. I'm really adamant on breastfeeding Reeve, and it was challenging when it was so painful. I enjoy it more now, and I feel like he does, too.
Paris continues to do well with Reeve. She lets him kick her when he's sleeping or just playing. Sometimes when he's crying, she gets in his face and it makes him happy. She's been really great about sharing the attention. She was our only girl for six years, so I know it was hard, and she is still stubborn, but she doesn't bite or pee on Reeve, so I'd say she's ok with him. She actually ate his poop out of a diaper on the floor yesterday, so she certainly loves him.
I know that I've had to adapt as well, of course. I sleep with the bathroom light on so that I can get a clear view of Reeve and don't trip over stuff when I get up to feed him at night. I brush my teeth, use the bathroom, eat when I can--not when I want. My nightly routine that was almost OCDesque is pretty much out the window. Decorating and crafting and rearranging and buying house stuff is last on my list. I can say no to any cute/affordable article of clothing for myself, but when it comes to cute 0-3 month boy stuff, I'm uncontainable.
My whole life revolves around a tiny little boy that pees all over the place and poops and cries and punches me, and I have never ever been more happy. Before Reeve, I was pretty set on not losing myself once he was here. I wanted to maintain some Kem, but instead I've been completely altered. Everything about me is different, and I'm fine with that. He's my life. If I have to say no to things that I used to be all on-board with, it doesn't upset me. If it takes three hours to get ready to go and we end up going to the late service at church or eating lunch at 3 pm, I'm fine. My house is in shambles and I usually look homeless on most days, but after six months, I think I can say that I'm doing my job. If I was put together and living in a spotless house, that would definitely mean either someone else or no one was raising my baby.
Life is really great. It's hard a lot of times, but Reeve Magnus is the sunshine in all my days. I look forward to each new day, but I also just wish time would stop so that I could hold every moment in my hands for a little longer. He's growing so fast, and that's been hard to deal with at times, but I look forward to his future, and I pray that I can contribute something good to his life.
Mommy loves you, Reeve Magnus Roberts, my muscle man!
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