Riding the mushy rails, and I'm not sure when this train is pulling into the station

I'm marking this day, Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009 (still very much in my birthday season in case you were wondering) as a very important day for my first born. To many of you this may not mean much, but a lot of you will understand the extreme significance of the following words Bridgey said after we went in to get her this morning:

"I leave my wawa at home today, Daddy."

And just like that a little part of my heart sank. I'm so proud of her and so excited that all the work we've been putting in to giving her the self confidence and security to give up wawa (her pacifier for those of you who don't speak Bridget) is paying off, but when she completely of her own volition said those words before even getting out of bed in the morning, it was a little more suprising and heartbreaking than I expected.

I then watched her do all the things she usually does in the morning without wawa. She didn't move it from spot to spot as she got ready, she didn't give me a wawa kiss as we said goodbye, she didn't walk out the door with it clutched tightly in her hand or in her mouth and as daddy rolled the window down to waive bye bye and blow kisses, there was no blue wawa to blow kisses around. It was all so strange to me and all so fine for her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure this by no means is the end of wawa, but it is the beginning of a "bigger" girl time for her. I can just tell. It's been coming for a while, pretty much steadily since she turned two, but every week and every day I see so much more of who she is and giving up such a cherished babyhood item (even for just a school day) is such a milestone for her. Just please, babygirl, don't you dare think about giving up Pinka, my little anti-change heart can't handle that anytime soon!

I must say the real people I am thinking about today are her teachers. While this new found confidence seemed easy this morning, they're the ones that will have to deal with her at naptime and I'm not so sure I won't get an emergency wawa call at some point in the day. You know what, though? You better believe I'll be there in 6.4 minutes with wawa in tow. Baby steps.

Where did everyone else spend their holidays?

Ours went something like this:

• Doctor's office
• Walgreens Pharmacy
• Call to Doctor's office
• Emergency Room
• Walgreens Pharmacy
• Christmas dinner
• Doctor's office
• Walgreens Pharmacy
• St. Joseph's Hospital Lab
• Doctor's office
• Call to Doctor
• Walgreens Pharmacy
• Out to lunch
• Doctor's office
• Walgreens Pharmacy

I'M NOT EVEN EXAGGERATING THIS, or as my parents might say, this is not an Erinism... tpd will back me up.

Will try to return to regularly scheduled posting soon. Despite all this, I do have some PFA (pretty... bleeping... adorable) pics from the holidays! Hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas and here's to a Happy and HEALTHY New Year!

Closing ceremonies open BIG WEEK Sunday

Normally by Sunday nights I have one of a few emotions; these emotions can range from exhaustion from a full weekend with two kids and two dogs and lots of events to sadness that the weekend is over to, honestly, sometimes happiness that the weekend is over and I'll get a break from the house and kids by being back at work! But, anyway, my whole point is this: NOT THIS WEEK, PEOPLE!

This Sunday is different. This Sunday I have a different emotion. I am jittery and shaky (and no I haven't been drinking caffeine again) with excitement. This is one of the biggest weeks I can remember in some time and I'm even including the week of May 1st in there, although that was a big one, too.

This week we get to celebrate TWO big birthdays! Not only is my babygirl turning two on Tuesday, we will also be welcoming a new member of the playgroup the very next day. Well, that is unless that babygirl gets her act together and decides to come in to this world tonight. (Which, by the way, baby r/k, could you please do that? I know your mommy would appreciate it and Bridget would really like her newest BFF at her birthday party).

I just can't believe sometimes how fast this time has gone and how in such a short amount of time so much can change (see that - I used the "c" word - yeah me!). I remember back to last New Year's Eve (wiggle your fingers here and make that doodly doo sound Wayne and Garth make when they're having a memory) when just Matthew and Bridget ruled the roost and we had three mommies to be at the party - which by the way doesn't make for the craziest new year's party, but it was fun nonetheless. We sat around talking about how things would change - ah! there it is again - by next year and how different having two kids would be and how much fun Mark and Kim would have on their first go around and on and on... Now we are about to come full circle with the newest babygirl joining the other two new people that we didn't even know that new year's - Shane and Amelia. It just seems so unreal to me at times, almost more so when I see other people like Aimee and Kim go through it then when I go through it myself. Such an amazing thing.

Okay, to stop the sapiness (can you see how thick it is -yuk) I'll just say I CANNOT wait for this week! Bridget actually understands it's her birthday and walks around singing "Happy Birthday Bridget" which actually sounds more like "oppie earthbay ridgey" but we know what she means, and we're cutting her some language slack again being only her SECOND birthday and all! I'm so excited about the presents we bought her and to have a birthday party for her where she'll have more of an idea about what's going on AND on top of all that, then we get to go meet the new babygirl and shower her with birthday presents, too! What a great week! I almost can't stand it.

I can see next New Year's eve now - 5 little munchkins running around (okay, well two running around and three just looking adorable as three little babies can look) and three new-ish mommies with a camera in one hand and a well-deserved cocktail in the other.

So, as I watch the closing ceremonies tonight, I think I will always remember these Olympics and the end of Summer '08 as being the beginning of a new chapter. One part the kick off of a new age for babygirl (terrible twos and all, I have a feeling this is also going to be one of the most hilarious and fun times with her to date) and the other part, the beginning of another brand new life that I just can't wait to have be a part of mine. Ah, isn't is all amazing, and oh so much fun?!

OMG, I just reread this and I better stop now before there's no more sap left to make maple syrup ever again...

When you push a tender moment to the max...

As I'm putting Bridget to bed tonight , after we've read books, sang "twinkle song" at least 19 times, and rocked, I take her to the crib and we do last hugs before we say night night. The conversation tonight went something like this, bear with me as I'm paraphrasing with toddlerese:

Bridget: night, night mommy

Me: night, night babygirl, can I have a hug?

Bridget: oooohhhhhh (she always illiterates her hugs)

Me: can I have a kiss?

Bridget: aaahh (big wet snotty kiss)

Me: I love you

Bridget: bluv you, bluv you

Me: Daddy loves you

Bridget: All done mommy, all done (makes a break for the crib)


Okay, kiddo I can take a hint.

Welcome to my own private Choo Choo Soul hell...

Q: How many consecutive times can an almost-two year old ask to watch the following 2-minute video clip:

A: Yet to be determined

Q: How many times can a barely 33 year old be forced to watch the previous 2 minute video clip without wanting to hurl herself out the window?

A: 1-2, 1-2-3
(ps-That answer won't make sense unless you actually subject yourself to watching the video. *Warning* Should you do that, you WILL BE singing it for the rest of the day, if not the week - Right aunt meme? 4-5, 4-5)

I only wish George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg would have been here...

With tpd out of town the past two nights in Silex Missouri (seriously, Silex? At least my brother goes to cool places like New Orleans...) anyway, that meant I was on my own with two under two at dinner time and bedtime [insert sympathy here - sorry, but I gotta keep playing that up for as long as I still can]. Surprisingly though, I wasn't worried about it at all - I'd already had them both alone numerous times and it was no big deal. Last night though? Last night was NOT no big deal... it was, in fact, a perfect storm of a big deal. A perfectly timed convergence of multiple forces (forces being a sleep-deprived mommy, crabby toddler, over-tired baby, hungry and cooped-up-all-day dogs, doorbell ringing neighbor AND battery-drained rainforest electronic sound soother machine) all crapping out in unison to create a massively impressive display of chaos that surely could have been it's own reality tv show.

Want to know the exact moment that broke me? Shane's "wa wa" fell behind the pack and play. I could not find it. It was simply gone (GONE!) even though I had been in sole possession of it just seconds before the unfortunate finger bobble that led to it's disappearance. So, after searching everywhere in the dark with screaming baby on one arm, I decided to deal with it the best way I could... I cried. No, no - I sobbed. Yes, there I was sobbing on the floor... sobbing, people!... wah wah sobs...for at least a minute or two in unison with the other two [actual] sobbing babies. BUT, finally a happy ending ensued as my finger tips located the wa wa and I emerged from under the pack and play victorious, wa wa in hand. Nevermind the unfortunate face full of dog hair or the faint smell of dog urine burned in my nose hairs (yes, part of the aforementioned perfect storm), nonetheless, I was victorious, the storm receded to a mere drizzle and I would live to see another day... the next day...which brings us to today...

Faced with the same MIA husband scenario tonight, I was going to make sure there would be no perfect storm. Tonight I packed my extreme new mommy weather gear: no umbrella, hat, goulashes (what are those exactly?) for me... for tonight's typhoon I was armed... with food. McDonalds food.

We hit the drive thru on the way home. The ice cream cone was supposed to be for me, (only 2 WW points!) but I was prepared to share. I knew I would hear her protests immediately, "eat? eat? Bridget eat?!" So, I willingly handed it over. Worked like a charm. I won her over immediately...until I made a fatal mistake. I reached into her Happy Meal box and popped a fry in my mouth. She saw it. "French fry? French fry" - "Here you go mommy - all done" (she shouted trying desperately to hand me back the ice cream cone.) "French fry? French fry?"

Now, I have to be honest. At this moment, I was beyond proud. She really was MY daughter. She was handing back an ice cream cone for the much more desired french fry. She was turning down sweets for fried food. [A-HA!] We were related... we were soooo... related. (Most of you have heard me say this before, but I would gladly turn down any kind of sweets in favor of a heaping plate of cheese fries.) All was right in the world, my daughter and I were one... and then this happened...

at least Pinka got to taste french fries...
and at the very least, the sky stayed sunny and bright tonight...
not a storm cloud in sight.

Me + Emotions = All Mixed Up (like that 3-1-1 song)

Yesterday was Shane's first day at Bridget's "school". I'm pretty happy with Bridget going there now, even though that was a rough adjustment at first, too. Maybe it's because she waves goodbye and gives kisses and says in her too cute voice, "bye mom, bye mommy" and everything seems fine or the fact she brings me home her artwork and talks about the "markers" and "colors" she played with making her masterpieces. BUT dropping my new baby off there yesterday SUCKED big time. I mean you put so much time and energy into feeding, napping, playing, tummy times, crying times that it becomes your main job and focus of each day and then yesterday, it just suddenly wasn't anymore.

I handed him over to the "ladies". Don't get me wrong, I love the ladies there (we mainly just call them that cause we get their names all confused). They are all very sweet and loving and they loved Bridget and they were looking forward to Shane coming and getting to know him, but they are NOT ME and they are not my mom and they are not any of my family/friends that know his "rhythm" or his needs. So, relinquishing some of that control for the first time was harder than I expected. I'm not even sure why - maybe because I feel like I worked harder on him or understand him a little better than Babygirl when she was his age or maybe it's just being more experienced, but whatever the case, it stinks. And I am SOOO not like this - I am not a control freak nor do I usually care about schedules and time tables, but when I called yesterday and he was not sleeping very well and had been somewhat fussy, it just got to me big time. Suddenly, I felt like they had no idea what they were doing and that they probably missed his all important "sleep window" and that recovering from that missed window is not easy, and that now he was going to go through a lot of screaming and not sleeping ALL DAY and that if I were at home with him I could "fix" it - even though I totally could not fix it and most days when I am home with him and he is having one of those days I just wish he could be at school and I could concentrate on work.... oh! hello grass - aren't you greener over there?

[Mixed emotions enter here. ] Because you know what else? I really LOVE being back at work by myself. I like sitting at a computer in an office and listening to Jack Johnson and Bob Marley on iTunes (it's a good playlist, don't knock it 'til you've tried it) and taking phone calls and planning out third quarter marketing strategies without having one ear tuned in at all times for a baby crying in the background. I don't have to get up every few minutes and feed or swaddle or shoosh and then come back and try to figure out where I was analyzing the SEO data and why there was a decline in the internet traffic for KP Properties over the past two weeks. So, yesterday and today I kept getting these little pangs of happiness creeping in that things are getting to be a new "normal" again and I like it and then I think of my little babyboy and that he is NOT in his little cradle at home and he most certainly is not being swaddled properly and my little happiness sinks backs to sadness thereby creating one big jumble of emotions.

If anyone would understand, I think it's my favorite emotion-monitoring toddler, Matthew. He would look at me with those big blue eyes and say - "Erin happy? Erin sad?"

Yes, Matthew, Erin happy, Erin sad all at once.

It was definitely better-ish today

Thanks to all who were worried, but I - well, we (but I'm really mostly worried about me since tpd gets to gallivant with co-workers and real world people and such...but my digression into a bitter world aside) we survived today in tact. He was much better and after many conversations with the nurse we think it was maybe a combo stomach bug/reflux deal and hopefully we will now return to our regularly scheduled fussiness as opposed to the uncontrollable, there's-not-enough-wine-in-the -St.-Louis-area fussiness.

Aunt Kim came to help and dropped off a "miracle blanket" this afternoon and, though I would not yet call this evening a miracle type of night, he is happily sleeping away in his little baby straight jacket as I type. Plus, again, I get to get the heck outta dodge tomorrow for our annual St. Louis/KC ballgame pilgrimage and I couldn't be more excited! Sure I'll miss the kiddos and it is my first time leaving Shane, but I can also sure use the break and it will be fun to tailgate and hang out with friends!

On another note, I laughed outloud at this post as I have so been there. For any new(ish) parent or an experienced pro who could use a good laugh, this is pretty hilarious.

Lastly, I do promise to return to Throwback Thursdays soon, it's just been a little tricky to pull those together. We'll start with a doosy (that should not even be a word) next week!

Happy weekend to you all - I'm out for now.

I know my mom is going to read this and then call me tomorrow and say, "so you had a bad day?" like that Daniel Powter song...

Things are fine - really - but I do want to be honest in this blog and I also want to document our life and use this as a forum to vent and get it all out, so, here goes...

Tonight was rough, hell, today was rough. Unfortunately, it looks like my sweet boy has issues that are proving to be very similar to Bridget's even though they took longer to manifest themself. I think the hardest thing for me about this is not understanding the why/what/how/when scenario. It's such an up and down roller coaster of emotions. One day I feel like I have it completely together and we have a routine and I can deal with his "fussiness" and then the next I am a crazy mom googling things like, "8 week old won't sleep", "8 week old needs to be held constantly", "8 week old overstimulated" and the dreaded, "colic symptoms".

Yesterday I finally called the doctor after it became increasingly apparent that the Mylanta we were trying to help with his "crying spells" and fussing was not working. "Oh, yeah, these things run in families" she laughed. I politely giggled, but I think I was crying on the inside. What? What about the cosmic balance of one difficult baby, one breeze baby? What about that? Everyone had said surely we wouldn't have the same issues and, to be fair, we didn't... at first. But I had never heard of the "run in families" fussy baby phenomenon - fair warning to you all! Our doc upped us to Pepcid (the same thing baby girl was on not even two years ago for acid reflux). After one dose yesterday, he had the calmest evening in weeks. I was optimistic, I thought we had found the cause and I was so glad to fix his crying and inability to lay down and sleep. I thought he would be a happier, more playful little baby boy that I can tell he so wants to be... and then came today. As I sit here now, he has been sleeping for 20 minutes which is longer than any stretch of sleep thus far today. I feel like I literally spent the whole day patting, shooshing and swaddling to no avail. I moved from room to room with my fussy, non-sleeping baby all day. I'm not even sure how it got to be 9:51 right now.

So, baby Shane, I want to let you know I love you a lot, but this time with you is definitely challenging and mostly because I just wish I could make you better when you have your crying fits. In fact, it gives me flashbacks to how it was with your sister, too, and having those same feelings. However, that in and of itself is comforting because, until recently, I did not remember the bad things. The big difference is this time I know it will get better and I know it will be okay, but right now I am admitting that this is hard and that I don't always do well with this stuff. I want to make you better, I want to make you happy and it hurts when I can't.

I wish I was the type of person that could just carry him around the house all day and night, but I'm not. I need time away, I need a break and days like this with no break and screaming that lasted from about 5pm through 9:30pm just really really suck. Save for throwing a dirty poopy diaper at tpd's head, there's been little lightheartedness in the Delant household tonight, but we know this too shall pass, especially this weekend when we leave this little bundle of joy with grandma and grandpa - I bet you can't wait for that now, can you?

Letter to my darling boy, Shane

Dearest Shane,

Today marks the 47th day that you've been in our lives. We are getting to know you more every day and you are a sweet, cute little boy. However, today also marks the 47th day since your mommy and daddy got to sleep through the night. I realize you are also just getting to know us, and that you may not realize that mommy's and daddy's really like to sleep and that we MISS SLEEPING very very much. Now, just so you know, we wouldn't trade you back in for a full night's sleep most days, but today isn't most days. Today is the morning after the third or maybe even fourth night in a row that you've decided sleeping IS for sissies. It's like you're looking at me with those BIG WIDE OPEN beautiful baby eyes and saying,

"Sleep? Why sleep when I can cry exactly 10 minutes after you lay me down - ALL night long".

I drag myself back out of bed, I replace the wa-wa (that's a pacifier for those of you that don't speak Bridgetese), I pat, I shoosh, I turn you on your side (just a little don't worry) I watch those eyes grow heavy...heavier...until they are fully closed and your breathing is nice and heavy - surely you are asleep now. I crawl back to bed, fluff the pillow and have just long enough to drift back to my Zack Morris dream (yes, I do frequently dream about SBTB) when...... [insert the highest pitched screaching sound you've ever heard and then multiply it by 10]. I look at the clock - it's been exactly 10 minutes. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. (Mommy stole that line from another blog or somewhere, but it's so true - that's how I feel all night.)

So, son, it's time to shape up. I realize you might just be sticking it to me, what with all the bragging I was doing last week about how newborn nights aren't really that bad and that we manage pretty well and how you personally were doing so well that I was sure you'd almost be sleeping through the night at 6 weeks. In fact, retrospectively, I deserve it - hell, I'd probably do it to myself if you weren't stepping up to the plate - I deserve it that much.

In closing, my dear boy, since I've acknowledged my overconfidence and missteps, do you think it's time to start sleeping at night again? Let's put away the screaming, let's be nighttime pals again. Let's go back to the Max with Zack, Kelly, Lisa and A.C. (I hate Jesse and Screech, I'm not inviting them into to my dreams.) We'll all be a lot better off, little man, if we all get a little more shut eye.

Love always,

Your mommy

PS - Until this stinkiness ends, I'm not allowing you to see or talk to your cousin. I don't want you filling her head with any ideas. In fact, according to her mommy, you may have already showed her how to shake things up a little during the day, so until you learn to play nice, Amelia's off limits.

You know you didn't get enough sleep the night before when...

You have coffee and oatmeal sitting out for breakfast, you walk to the refrigerator, take out the french vanilla creamer for your coffee and... pour it all over your oatmeal.... AND you don't even notice until you're upstairs eating the oatmeal.

FYI, it's pretty good.

and the Busted Play of the Year Award goes to...

ME! Why do I deserve this special honor? Because I TOTALLY MISSED Shane's first month doctor's appointment. Besides the fact I actually had the wrong time written down, there is still pretty much no way I would have made it even if I had the right time. For those that don't know what a busted play is, it's a saying we adopted when Bridget was a baby. My mom used to say it when something would go wrong with Bridget's "routine". For example, if she was supposed to eat at say 8am and then play for a while and then sleep for a while and then eat again at 11am, but instead didn't want to eat until 9am and then started screaming at 10am and then blew out a diaper at 10:30am and then, well you get the picture, basically the whole "routine" went straight to hell - we would call it a "busted play", write it off and start over again for the next cycle.

Well, we had the mother of all busted plays yesterday - full of lots of tears and screaming (oh yeah, and Shane and Bridget were screaming, too!) I didn't think getting ready and out the door for the doctor would be a big deal as we practically have a set morning Starbucks routine anyway, but of all the mornings to have things go horribly wrong (although, missing a Starbucks run could be considered horribly wrong) this morning just wasn't meant for a doctor's appointment. Shane was just not having any of it - eating at 7, 8, and 9am sounded good to him and every time he got done eating and I had 10 minutes to myself to try and get ready to go, he decided it would be better to fill that glorious extra time (before he wanted to eat again) by screaming. Add to the mix a screaming toddler who could not be pacified by ANYTHING and a husband running around the house like a madman because he could not find his wallet and we were the picture of sitcom domestic chaos except without the funny lines or the canned laughter in the background to lighten the mood.

So, as I'm on hold with the Dr.'s office at 9:37am (this was the ONE time that the office did not call to leave a reminder message), screaming baby in hand, mascara brush in the other, just trying to double check that the appointment was indeed 10:40am and not 10:20am a very annoyed woman tells me my appointment is "actually 7 minutes ago - it was at 9:30am, ma'am".

Okay, I get it's annoying to have people miss appointments, but did she have to add the ma'am? Really? Was that just to make me feel worse - can you HEAR the screaming in the background? So I'd like to say I handled this news calmly and rationally, but instead in my post-partum state with a screaming 4-week old in hand, toddler wailing in the background and one eye dripping with black streaks of mascara - I completely, totally lost it to doctor receptionist lady:

"Well, (sniff sniff) ....baha ahaa baaa hha.... i'm totally not going to make it..... bwaa haa ha haaaha..... screaming, wrong time, he wanted to eat all morning...... bwaa haa (sniff sniff)..... toddler husband wallet.... bwaaa haaa......what do i do now.... (sniff sniff sniff sniff) uh hhhhh hhhh hhhhh bwaaahhhh bwaaahhh..... so sorry, tell Betty sorry, she's my parent's friend, she knows me, i feel so bad, bye bye now...boowaaah bwaa ha ahaa booo bwaaa...".

Yes, my friends, that is how you win the BPOTY Award - you completely self-destruct. The good news about a morning full of busted plays, is that at some point they get back on track and things look up again. However, when you have that many BP's in a row - you also win the award and hope like hell it won't be topped.

I felt I owed it to all the guessers out there about why we do not have a first month official weight. The good news is we can try it all over again next Tuesday at 10am. I've written it down, multiple times, and have already arranged to get rid of aforementioned husband and toddler on that day so hopefully we'll have a better result this time.

Finally, here's how I spent my time after I missed the appointment and when all the screaming finally ended:

First - I googled the following in the following order (seriously, i copied and pasted this from my google toolbar, it was just too funny):

4 week old screaming
Breastfeeding trouble
Growth spurts
21 month old tantrums
toddler tantrums
dealing with tantrums
mma fight (i have no idea why i stopped and googled this, i blame tommy)
4 week olds
1 month old crying a lot
formula feeding outcast (??? don't know what i was going for here)
breastfeeding support
21 month old fits
husbands that lose everything all the time (okay, that one's not serious, but seriously, he has a problem finding things, right big d?!)

Then, I gathered up all these and poured over them for the next hour and a half:


So far, today is off to a much better start and HEY! it's 2x Tuesday at Domino's so that's something to look forward to, right?!

Do you think Guinness has a world record holder for most photos taken with a Starbuck's cup? Cause I could totally beat it.

It's been a little hectic around here lately, but I thought I owed it to Shane to mark his 4 week birthday with a little recap of how things have been going this first month adjusting to a new family member in the house. With Bridget, I remember four days could seem like four years at times (sorry babygirl, you were quite the handful and, at the risk I could somehow do you reprehensible damage, I will follow that up with the fact that I wouldn't have it any other way) but this time has been flying by and, dare I say it, knock on wood, has been completely and totally manageable and you know what, not just manageable, but ENJOYABLE!

Yes, there are times it is extremely hard - beyond hard - but in between those times there are the moments when Bridget cries because she didn't get to give "the baby" a kiss goodnight and then promptly lets out an "oooohhhhh" signaling she is about to give him a big bear hug - albeit this is sometimes dangerous for an 8 lb being, but adorable as hell nonetheless. Then there are the times when I actually figure out what is wrong with my little man and I feel like such an empowered, can-do-no-wrong mommy... well, that is until my daughter comes home, flops on the ground in a fit of rage over the fact that I DARED TO LET THE DOGS OUTSIDE - didn't I know that the dogs needed to stay inside, that the world was about to come to an end if I let the dogs out the back door? Luckily, I am usually able to chalk this behavior up to little daycare sleep and 21 months of age. Lastly, as we had hoped and have come to find out, this time is unequivocally, without a doubt, so much more relaxed. We are so much more okay with things and not overcome with questions, worry and guilt 24/7. Now, that certainly doesn't mean I don't experience all three of those things daily, multiple times a day, but in a much less stressful and overwhelming manor.

Bottom line, things are going really well. I've only hid under the bed eating burritos once - twice maybe - okay, six times at the most, but it's still been a great experience so far and having this new little person in our lives is working out pretty well, I think we'll keep him.

On an unrelated note, I've been totally remiss in not thanking Mark and Kim for the best new mom present ever - a Starbucks giftcard. I look so forward to this little treat in the morning and it's become part of Shane, Bridget and my's morning routine. Forgive me if that grammar is totally wrong in the last sentence, I always mess up my I's and my's - yes, I am an english major. Thanks guys - cheers to you!

A first milestone down...

The very first day in the hospital, I looked at Shane's little umbilical cord and actually dreaded the day it would fall off. Well, today's the day. Tim did a happy dance (no more folding down the diaper and dealing with all the other boy "parts" that we are so terrified by) but I felt a little "oh my baby's already growing up" sadness.

Just the first of many to come...

This post is mostly just so we don't have to look at Al's big face anymore

Hope everyone had a great Mother's day! I'll post a few pics of what my KIDS (even though I don't know if Shane pulled his weight this year being 9 days old and all) did for me.

One of the pictures Bridget made for me at school.
You can see the handprints in the photo below. Too cute!

My new Phil & Ted's double jogging stroller. I was TOTALLY shocked by this present!
Thanks TPD (and thanks Kim for the help), I absolutely love it!

With the both of them - two babies, two years, two mother's day! Crazy, but so much fun!

At our Mother's Day brunch at Nicoletti's - it was yummy!

I posted more pics up at picasa of all the fun festivities.

On one other note, this year was a little bittersweet for me as I remember last year at this time when we lost Karla on mother's day. I was actually at the exact same plant stand this year when it hit me that was exactly where I was one year ago when I got the call that she had passed away. I think Mother's day will always remind me of that, but I will use it moving forward to remember what a fun and spirited mom she was and to honor her memory on this day, too, just like all other moms. Karla, you were and still are a great mom and your spirit is remembered every day in your two beautiful kids.

Hope all the mom's out there had a great mother's day!

God, thank you for not choosing Ann Curry

After an incredibly hectic morning (not enough time right now to even begin to describe this morning) we finally get things settled down and Shane and I set up for breakfast - hey, if he's gonna eat, you better believe I am too - I flip on the tv to the very beginning of a segment entitled, "How do you handle change?". A full 5 minutes devoted to working on change in life and dealing with the first 30 days and how that time period makes the biggest difference in how you are effected with the change. It was a pretty good segment with some good advice.

I guess it's true what they say - God works in mysterious ways, and in this case it was right through Al Roker. Thanks God and thanks Al, I needed that little boost this morning.

When the room service lady almost got punched in the face...

Room service lady (aka Evil Post-Partum Mom Eating Police): "Hungry girl, aren't you? Is this all for you?"

Post-partum, free-to-eat whatever I want Erin (as thought in my head): Oh, I'm sorry lady, were you woken up 6 times last night between a hungry hungry baby, percocet delivery and blood pressure readings? Do your "girls" (as they will be referred to from here on out concerning all breastfeeding posts so as to minimize my embarrassment) hurt so bad you want to cry every time they bring said baby to you? Was the only thing that kept you going during those sleepy, painful times the thought of that first Vanilla Latte and French Toast?

I didn't think so.

As actually said: "Yup, pretty hungry."

The Theory of Relativity and other Ramblings

It's day four of Project Baby #2 and if you didn't hear the name saga, I'll be sure to write up a blog about it sometime... maybe in about 20 years, but we are very happy with the name we selected and feel it already fits our little guy perfectly. Since I have a minute (read: still in hospital where they bring me food when I want it, take the baby when I need rest and generally pamper me silly), I thought I'd share Baby Shane's webnursery first pics and give a quick update.

So far, things are going really well here in the hospital, but I'm sure being home with two big hairy dogs, a toddler that just got blindsided with change and real life will be exactly like hospital fairy life. Hey, a new mom can dream right? I'll try and update later this week with how the actual transition to home is going. As of right now, Shane is great, breastfeeding like a champ and sleeping like an angel. Of course, Bridget was exactly like that in the hospital too and we all know how that turned out! Regardless, like I said before I'm prepared for that and if it's exactly the same, we'll be just fine - we'll also probably be done having kids, but fine. :)

Here's one of our favorite pictures. I'm sure in this moment he was contemplating Albert Einstein's theory of relativity in an a-ha moment type of way:

"OH! It makes sense now, the laws by which the states of physical systems undergo change are not affected, whether these changes of state be referred to the one or the other of two systems of co-ordinates in uniform translatory motion. That Einstein guy is da BOMB"

Click here to view all of the web nursery photos! Such a baby, isn't he?!

Thursday's Project Baby #2 : Still a go!

DICLAIMER: Brutally honest opinions expressed about newborn babies and new mommyhood. The opinions are of the author only and in no way are meant to be a reflection of motherhood in general. Oh, and Custom Web Connections also takes no responsibility for it's employees' expressed opinions - in fact, we think the owner may even be a little crazy.

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We had a little blip on the radar screen yesterday and this morning we were preparing for what might have been a tad bit of an early arrival due to some high blood pressure and headaches experienced by yours truly, but they think that's probably due to baby positioning and some condition (a big word involving hyper, but not tension) where the blood pressure jumps up and down in the last week or so leading up to delivery, so relaxation and left side laying was my prescription (not too bad, huh?).

I'm pretty excited about the May 1st date anyway (and I know my grandma is too), so I'm fine with waiting 48 more hours but, surprisingly, I was also perfectly fine going in today, too. That's so different than last time when I looked like a terrified 1st grader going to school for the first time as I'm leaving for the hospital (see terrible picture at right - face puffy and swolen from all the crying, fake smile and all) I was a week overdue, hugely uncomfortable, had just been told it was in mine and baby's best interest to induce that day and I still was not wanting to go. Now, I feel much more "let's get this show on the road" vs. "maybe the baby can just stay in me until she goes to college".

Edited to add:  see how much bettter I looked this time: 

So what brought about this change of heart? (Besides the drugs and therapy) :) This time, I know the next few weeks/months will be rough (potentially nearly impossible at times), but unlike last time, I also know it will get better and easier. I'm sure this has to do with my "c" word issues, but regardless, it's there and it's real - I don't do well with change and/or transition periods in life. Throw in a crazy influx of hormones and a baby I had no idea what to do with and the conditions were ripe for a meltdown the first time around. No matter how many people told me it would be better and easier, I couldn't hear that in the days after Bridget was born, so I won't preach it to my first time mom friends out there, but for me, I know it now and this is a much more comfortable place to be.

This time, I can accept that I just am not a big baby person. Don't get me wrong - they are cute and all, especially those teeny tiny little fingernails, but I can hold one for a few minutes and then be ready to give it back, unless it's sleeping, then I can hold it for a while.. anyway... I've come to understand this doesn't mean I won't love or appreciate what an amazing thing a new baby is, but it does mean I probably WILL NOT love all the early days of care and getting used to an entirely new routine and breastfeeding struggles and sleepless nights and missing designing new t-shirts and working. Because those things can be hard and stressful and NEW and different and not routine and, like my wise brother-in-law once said, "good things are good" and sometimes new motherhood is not good. I will, however, try harder to cherish this time as it is fleeting and quite possibly my last go around with a newborn, but, I also will allow myself to feel overwhelmed and discouraged with the depth of new momhood and I won't beat myself up for longing for a time in the past occasionally. I will understand that feeling that way DOES NOT a bad mom make and it does not mean I wouldn't do anything for this new little person, it just makes me flat out NORMAL. This time my mantra will be, good things will be good again, the best is yet to come.

And, hey, remember this post? Well, just look at all the progress we've made now and we still have 2 days left!


PS - Check back here next week same time same place to see if my empowered second baby mantra is working out or if I've been hiding under the bed all week eating bean burritos.

Wasn't the dog named Brandon or maybe it was Comet?

Today, I was a little late in dropping Bridget off at "school" her part-time daycare not far from our house. Tim had to go out of town so the dirty deed was left to me again. I try and get out of this drop-off thing if at all possible simply because it's so miserable. When Tim takes her I have a happy image in my head all day of her walking happily out the door, backpack in tow, waving, giving kisses and saying "bye bye". But when I take her I never know which Bridget I'm going to get. There's the "oh i'm so happy to see all my friends and go play - mommy who?" Bridget or the "why on god's green earth would you make me come to this forsaken place where they torture me all day long with song singing, artwork making and interactive play with my peers" Bridget. It's a toss up and as far as I can tell there is no predictor of which one you're going to get. Lately, it's been a little more of the torturous variety than mommy who variety. So, I prepared myself for the worse this morning. I was going to be confident, strong and not give into what was sure to be a veritable melt-down with the weaker of the two parents doing the drop off.

People, I was in control. Then I opened the door.

This is "young children's" week at school (??) and they've been doing activities all week to celebrate the younger ones. So today they brought in a story teller for Bridget's room and because I was so late, she was already mid-telling of some monkey/fairy story. Cute, right? WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

She was absolutely terrifying and she scared the hell out of...... me. She was straight out of a 1984 Punky Brewster episode - you know like the really bad ones when Punky was all "expressing" herself. I'm not exaggerating here friends, the "story teller" was a (not that this matters, but it does add to the visual) very overweight 65 year-old Punky Brewster with wings! dressed in multiple layers of bright pink, yellow, purple, and plaid pattern clothes, mismatched socks and shoes, a stuffed monkey and some god-awful hat that was luckily still "hidden" behind her back for what I can only assume was to be used in a future climatic element of the monkey fairy story.

I wanted to run out the door screaming. I quickly looked at Bridget to see her reaction and the only way I can describe it is - purely mesmerized. She was taking it all in, trying to figure out what was going on. Then I looked at the other kids, and they all were fixated on Punky, too, but not in a bad way, in a happy, clap my hands jump up and down when she tells me sort of way. Bridget actually reached out for Miss Emily to go sit on the ground and get a closer look.

Wait! No tears, no heartbreaking reaching for me as I try and kiss her goodbye - in fact, there was not even a kiss goodbye or a wave - she was just off - sitting down with her friends, and actually clapping a little as I walked out the door - not caring for a second that I was leaving.

Can you believe that? All that preparation in my head, all that stress and my daughter liked scary Punky over mommy. I almost felt a little sad or something - she just didn't care about me at all. I should have been happy that it was so smooth - but again - SCARY PUNKY?! At the very least, I was relieved to get the hell out of there before that hat went on.