Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Finish this blog post

"Last night our new bed shook like the world was coming to an end. It wasn't."

I was looking through old blog post drafts and stumbled upon the one in quotes above. It was written just two months into my pregnancy. There is no title and is comprised of just those two sentences. I have no idea what the rest of the story was, but my imagination is running into overdrive. Knowing my rules for blogging, I am pretty sure that this story did not have a lascivious nature, but I dunno...

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Losing It

I accidentally wore these to the dog park today:



Seriously, I'm losing it. I'm just glad I remembered to wear pants. I was walking along when I realized that my feet were getting hot. "That doesn't make any sense," I told myself, "Why are my feet hot?" Then I looked down.

They're hot because they're encased in big, white fuzzy slippers!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

More Like a "Last" than a "First" (also known as the "Goodbye Cheeseburgers" post)

It was inevitable. It had to happen. Much to my despair, nursing Little Husband is nearing an end.

I remember in the beginning how I had *such* a hard time getting The Mighty Stubborn One to accept this medium of food intake, i.e., he didn't want to latch on. "Don't give up for seven weeks," a wise mother-friend told me, "it will get better." I didn't and it did. That was some of the best advice I received to date.

It's hard to describe the feeling that washes over you when nursing your baby. Words like "tender" and "magical" come to mind. There's a closeness there that is indescribable and a certain feeling of pride as you watch your baby grow and know that it's a direct result of the nourishment that your body is producing. It doesn't hurt that nursing allows you to spend thirty unfettered minutes snuggling with your baby and inhaling his sweet baby scent. It's such a precious, private moment.

I'll miss cradling him in my arms as I absorb his warmth and plant kisses on the top of his sweet, downy-soft head. I'll miss his plaintive cries as he calls out to let me know that he's hungry and then latches on, sobbing, as if he hasn't been fed in days (Husband and I were always charmed by this bit of drama). I'll miss laughing during the later months as he would break his latch at the slightest sound, as if even the noise of a passing car warranted his attention. Most of all, I'll miss those groggy early mornings when I would tuck Little Husband into bed with with me and nurse him until we both snuggled into a comfortable sleep. These days, I can't get The Whirling Dervish to take a nap with me for anything.

Alas, though, nursing isn't supposed to last forever. Little Husband's regular food intake has increased and my milk supply has decreased and the only way I can get him to nurse is if he's starving. This limits us to early morning nursing sessions.

While I'm glad that I was able to stretch it out this long, I do wish that I could nurse LH through cold & flu season since the anti-bodies that I pass to him seem to do wonders in staving off illness. Although he's "fully repaired", I somehow still have the mindset that I am protecting a frail infant with a heart condition and I want to do everything in my power to make sure that I send him out into the world with as much protection as possible. I guess this is the first step in cutting the apron strings, right?

Try as I might, I don't see much benefit to losing my status as a milk maid except that all my old shirts finally fit again. My ravenous appetite can no longer be satisfied with plates of cheeseburgers and greasy fries. Junk food, such as pizza, will once again have to be eaten in rations, and instead of watching the numbers on the scale creep down, I suspect that I will now stand there in disbelief as they creep back up.

Kind of like how I felt throughout my pregnancy.

Still, I plan to limp along, nursing LH with whatever ounce or two I've got to spare, until one day there's simply nothing left to give to him. Hopefully by then I'll be ready, but I doubt it.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Growing Up

This morning was a series of "firsts" for Little Husband. This was a bright spot on an otherwise groggy morning as I was kept awake until 2 am by a certain snoring/kicking someone who will remain nameless.

The first "first" was that Little Husband pushed himself up into a sitting position all by himself. He's probably a little behind on this baby benchmark but hey, it's hard to do push-ups when you're recovering from open-heart surgery.

The second "first" was this (you might want to lower your volume as my high-pitched squeals are annoying even to me):



The third "first" are his two lower teeth that are starting to come in (for sure this time). My gummy-smile baby is growing up, sob! I need to get some professional baby photos ASAP!

The last--and saddest--"first" I will blog about in another post.

Hmmm...perhaps it's time to rethink that second baby I've been so against.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

I Didn't Notice the Microphone When I Bought It

Despite all the fun that Husband and I have been having with this new toy--imitating a McDonald's drive-through worker, pretending like we're rap stars--something tells me that I am going to regret this purchase...

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

A Tragic Day

Although Little Husband repeatedly proves otherwise, I repeatedly refuse to believe that he has outgrown his exersaucer. Here, however, is the irrefutable evidence:



Today I found him in this state three times before I gave up and set him elsewhere. Whatever will I do when I need to get things done?