Happy Bath= Happy Mom

Since coming home from the hospital I have heard Wyatt bellow a newborn wail only once...


and it was during his first bath.

I wanted everything to be perfect. Matching turtle towel and washcloth: check. Tiny bottle of Aveno ultra-expensive oatmeal baby shampoo: check. Frog shaped water bucket to not only effectively but cutely get the suds off his head: check. I was as prepared as a new mother could be for this momentous occasion in my son's life. With Bryan by my side, camera in hand... I slowly lowered Wyatt into his bath.

Now one of the things I did not have is one of those great little rubber duckies that tell you when the water is too hot. In our case though, the duck would have turned blue. I had read so many baby books that I had scared myself into thinking that I would make Wyatt soup during bath time if the water was too hot. So instead I made the water a little bit warmer then say... a kiddie pool that one, maybe two just to be fair, little kids had peed in. Bryan tried to tell me it was cold but I wouldn't listen. I am mom... mom knows best. Duh.

So of course, upon entry Wyatt screamed for his life... afraid I was trying to make him into a Whale shaped ice cube. I yelled at Bryan to take pictures to which he responded "Why would you want to remember this??". Before the plastic frog cup even knew what hit him he was being flung for through the air. I grabbed Wyatt out of the tub handed him off to Bryan, who was proudly holding his turtle towel and gave up. I walked out to the dining table, stuck the 'First Bath' sticker on May 12th and retreated to my bedroom.

When I failed, rather then take the high road and 'try, try again' I decided to put an end to bath time altogether. Yes, I still washed Wyatt down every few days but did it instead while he was on the changing table rather then in the whale shaped newborn bather I desperately had to have. Finally I decided I had to do it. I am mom... mom does not know best BUT she does not give up.

So last night, while Bryan was gone I filled up the bath, got all my things ready- this time trading in the tiny turtle towel for a big soft, fluffy one- cranked the heat in the bathroom and stripped Wyatt down. I slowly lowered Wyatt into the water making sure not to lose eye contact and tada- we had bath time success. Not a single tear was shed as I washed him down... he even cooed a bit as I scrubbed one of his chins. He loved it... which made me love it. Even after we were all done I let him sit in it for a bit, just to get used to the water. It was perfect.

So here is what I learned. I am mom. Duh. I do not always know what is best BUT in trying to figure it out I am giving the best I can give which in the end... is the best there is.

Nursery blues.

Were moving.

I knew the day would come when we would have to say goodbye to this little rental that has been so good to us, but I didn't think that day would come only 3 short weeks after the birth of our son. Bryan and I have so many memories here. He proposed to me in the kitchen, in his underwear, while I attempted to make the perfect potato soup. This is the home we came back to as husband and wife after our honeymoon. This is where, if our memory serves us, we started our little family. This is the where we brought our son home to. So many wonderful memories. I thought that there would be many more to come... which is why I didn't think twice about painting an elaborate nursery for Wyatt when I was a mere 22 weeks pregnant.

I knew I wanted to do a nature theme, hoping to instill a love for the outdoors in him as early as possible. Calming greens with hints of browns and reds. Perfection. I looked online for ideas until finally deciding on a simple tree with branches and leaves flowing across the walls. I resanded the crib that we bought for him, getting rid of the teeth marks the previous owner had left in the railings. I found the matching changing table and Grammy gave us the perfect rocking chair to complete the set. Grandma Juanita had a beautiful quilt made for him, covered with deer and bear prints. All of this together made for the perfect nursery to bring our son home to... and that is exactly what we did.

Now will Wyatt remember this nursery? Unless I ever manage to print the pictures out that I took of it, probably not. Has he slept in his crib while looking up at the flowing branches of the tree that mommy painstakingly painted for him while her sciatica flared up? Once, but only while I quickly swapped out the poo covered changing table cover for a clean one. Will he know that I love him and want nothing but the best for him in life and will do anything to give him that even if it means inhaling paint fumes while 22 weeks pregnant only to have to do it all again less then a year later? You bet he will.

So am I sad that I have to leave the nursery behind? Yes, of course I am. I had envisioned many memories that would take place there. But rather then focus on what would have been I am looking forward to what will be. Wyatt will have a new room, one that I get to decorate and paint... again. Luckily my dream job is an interior designer so I have no problem doing this. He will have a house that he can call his own. He will have a big yard that he and Bentley can play in... woods to roam around in... trees to make forts in. Bryan and I are giving him the childhood that we both had. I don't remember my first room. I doubt that Bryan does either. But I do remember our barn and all the neat stuff I had stashed away there. I do remember our tree fort and the memories my brother and I made there. I remember summers at the river, marshmallow roasts at night, snowball fights in the pond. Those are the things I remember. I can only hope that even if Wyatt has to leave his first nursery behind, he will know that I tried to give him the best... and in doing so we hopefully gave him something better.

To our new adventures on Noakes Road and the memories to be made... and the nurseries to be painted while were there.

Happy Mother's Day

My first Mother's day has come and gone.

I am officially part of the club. My membership pass came in the form of an 8.6 lb baby.

I think I set myself up for disaster from the beginning. I am one of those people who imagine something in their heads and when it doesn't go according to your vision, which it almost never does, you feel a sense of disappointment. Add this with a massive dose of hormones and a slight case of postpartum depression and you get unexplainable tears and a very confused husband.

So we headed off to lunch at Camp 18, where I got a sandwich that was only so-so delicious (remember in my head I imagined myself eating caviar off a diamond encrusted gold plate) followed by a trip to the beach where the sun was only peeking through the clouds, rather then then hot, tropical golden rays I had envisioned for Wyatt's first beach trip. As I sat in the backseat of the truck feeding Wyatt, crying because they misread his name during his debut announcement at church and because Bryan decided to go fishing on my first Mother's day morning rather then lay in bed with me (though I told him to go he should have known that decision would haunt him later), I gave up on my perfect Mother's day. All of this among a list of other things that had gone wrong made for a horrible, hectic Mother's day.

But then we arrived home. I had fallen asleep, thankfully, on the drive back and came inside to find Bryan changing Wyatt and getting him ready for bed. After some high quality and much needed snuggle time on the couch the 3 of us got into bed together and watched a movie, though we were more intrigued with the beautiful little guy lying between us.

It was at that moment that I realized that all day I had been focusing on what had gone wrong, rather then realizing all the things that went right.

Wyatt woke up at 7:30 that morning, allowing me an extra hour of sleep. That in itself is the best Mother's day present I could have asked for... though caviar and diamonds still take a close second. He also didn't cry all day... not once. Not during church, not on the ride to lunch, not during lunch, not on the way to the beach, nor at the beach, not at Dairy Queen, or on the overly long drive home due to all the men taking a detour because they wanted to see some elk. Which by the way, besides two raghorns, weren't there making the extra hour of driving somewhat pointless. But still Wyatt was perfect... all day long.

And then of course there is Bryan, who tried his best to make me happy and didn't give up when all hope seemed lost. I am so lucky to have him and even if he didn't manage to bring me breakfast in bed he gave me our son... the best gift I could have asked for. He is also a hands on dad, which may even take the number one spot away from that extra hour of sleep. He got Wyatt ready for bed without me having to ask. He changed what I can only imagine was a very icky diaper. He stepped up... when I had checked out.

Lesson learned: life isn't perfect. When you imagine your perfect day, make sure and throw a few imperfections in there or you are more then likely going to be disappointed. Or learn to roll with the punches... and hope you have a husband and son as amazing as mine that can roll with you.

Happy Mother's Day...

Baby wise... revised.

As some of you may know I was planning on using a sleep system that is referred to as 'Baby Wise' with Wyatt. Its not so much a system as it is a routine for you and the baby- feed, wake, sleep. A rather simple system but for the restless baby it can be a hard pattern to get the hang of. There is more to it then just that- self soothing, no co-sleeping (this is one of the key points) and full feedings rather then little nibbles here and there throughout the day. 15 chapters and 362 pages later I was ready to bring this baby home and start our boot camp training session.

Well so far I haven't had to do anything. From the first night in the hospital, like clockwork, Wyatt woke himself every 3 hours to eat (you usually have to work to get them to 3 hour increments rather then 2) and then went back to sleep. Our nurse informed us this was the 'honeymoon period' for parents and that it would wear off by the time we got home. Lucky for us... our nurse was wrong.

Wyatt has transitioned so well. At first we wondered if his vocal cords or lungs were fully developed because he wouldn't cry. One application of Vaseline to his freshly circumcised manhood quickly confirmed that we had no need to be concerned. He just doesn't cry, unless obviously in need of some sort of attention and even then he usually just lets out a whimper at which mom or dad quickly appear and all is well again. Boob, diaper, book (How do dinosaurs count to 10? is the current favorite), tummy time, sleep. Simple. Of course that's not to say that we haven't had a few hiccups along the way. One night wake time extended itself to 1 o'clock in the morning due to daddy overstimulating him with laughter at his little hiccups. Off to bed daddy went- onto the couch mommy stayed. But that's to be expected... even though I will be the first to admit our son is perfect- the system is not therefore you have to leave some wiggle room and just accept that sometimes derailing from the schedule is okay.

I just love being a mom. Maybe I lucked out... maybe not. I don't really have anything to compare Wyatt's behavior to so for me he is the baseline of my knowledge and know how of newborns. I may have a reality check with our next baby... but in the meantime I am just going to enjoy this bliss, along with my 6-7 hours of nightly sleep.

Thank you Wyatt for being you. Mommy and daddy are so lucky... and I promise we will never let you forget that.

Welcome home Wyatt!

April 27th, 2010- Wyatt Archer Dennis greeted the world at 11:47 pm.

After four and a half long and strenuous hours of pushing, he finally arrived. Dad said the first thing he thought of when he saw him was that he looked like a lobster out of the water, with his big hands flailing around. When they set him on my chest and I looked up and saw Bryan crying tears that only a new father could understand, I didn't know what to think. 1000 thoughts flashed through my head in a moment.

I am a mom.

I have a son.

He has my chin!

Why isn't Bryan taking pictures?
When do I get to eat?

The last one may seem trivial but after almost 30 hours of active labor on an empty stomach it was all I could do to keep myself from asking for a BigMac while Wyatt was crowning.

Both of his grandmas were doing anxious laps around the maternity ward when finally, as they approached Room 330 for the final time, they heard cheers from the nurses and the joyous cry of their new grandson.

Bryan proudly took his napkin with all the details written on it out to the waiting room to fill in our anxiously awaiting family and friends.

8.6 pounds
21 inches long
14.25 head circumference

10 fingers

10 toes

Absolutely perfect

Oh... and mom is doing good too.

Now were home and the fun really begins. So far, Wyatt is doing great at adjusting to life outside the womb. His favorite things are mommy's boobs and sleeping... like father, like son. Bryan is the diaper changing king. He is also the burp master... one thing mom just can't get the hang of. Every day there is something new to be learned... if not by Wyatt, then by us. This is all new to us. Every breath he takes is a miracle. Every poopy diaper brings a sense pride. We watch him sleep and while his chest rises and falls with every breath we realize that we created this. Together, we made something amazing.

So here we go... down the road of parenthood. I have no idea where we are going to end up... all I know is we are going there together as a family... and we couldn't ask for anything more.