A recollection of rants.

I just finished a book, Naptime Is The New Happy Hour, by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor and was blown away by the things she said (not to mention curse words used so while hilarious, this book is not for ears virgin to the F-word) and her openness and honestly about what its really like to be pregnant, have a baby, raise a child... and hopefully still be married when its all said and done. She talks about everything and anything from moms freaking her out at the idea of overdosing her baby on high-fructose corn syrup to petitioning to move the time for happy hour from 6 at night... to 6 in the morning. 

On that note, while reading this a few thoughts of my own came to mind that she didn't cover.

1. People who  feel the need to  remind you of things you said you were going to do... that you didn't do.

While I was pregnant I said I couldn't wait to work out and get back in shape. After Wyatt was born, the only thing I used my Jillian Michael's DVD for was a coaster for my coffee, for at least 6 months. After awhile I realized I couldn't use the excuse that I 'just had a baby' and kicked it into gear, but my jogger stroller that I had envisioned running marathons with after 6 weeks definitely had a nice layer of dust on it by then.

2.  Women who say that their epidural didn't work and they could feel everything.

First off, unless you have had a child without an epidural, I feel you don't have anything to go on to know what everything is.  Secondly, I understand that this really does happen and that sometimes epidurals are done incorrectly or your body rejects them and they truly don't work or at least don't work as well as others.  I just find it hard to believe though with the amount of times I have been told this, read about it, or heard someone whine about it on some TLC baby show that medical professionals could suck at their job that much, that often.  I had an epidural, it worked amazingly and I wouldn't want it any other way.

3.  Husbands that don't do anything... but only because their wives have scared them into thinking they won't do it right.

One of the best things anyone ever told me was to never, under any circumstances, tell your husband how to change a diaper, because he will never try and do it again.  If you are standing on the sidelines of a daddy diaper change, it doesn't matter if you see a giant chunk of poo fly up and land on your babies forehead.  You wait until dad has his back turned at the diaper genie to wipe it off and re-sanitize the area.

After having Wyatt I couldn't get out of the hospital bed thanks to a ridiculously awesome epidural (yes, mine worked and I gladly admit it!) and an oddly positioned catheter.  Bryan had to take the reigns and besides nursing, pretty much meet all of Wyatt's needs for the first 3 days in the hospital.  He changed him, dressed him, got his binky, woke up with him, took him to get his shots and was their at a time when only a dad should be, when he got circumcised.  By the time we got home, Bryan was calling the shots and was showing me how to change him or apply Vaseline.  This confidence that he gained continued through the first months and is still there 20 months later. 

4.  First time moms that don't take advice.

I get it.  I've been there and I totally understand what its like to be bombarded with information and whether you want it or not other mom's are dying to tell you how they did it.  Whether its delivery, nursing, sleeping, or feeding we all have a story to tell and being moms we obviously feel like our way is the best way.  Looking back, I learned more from other moms then I ever did from a book.  I learned how to change a diaper by watching my sister-in-law practically do it with one hand.  I learned how to nurse by my other sister-in-law grabbing my boob and not leaving my side until Wyatt latched on properly.  I also learned things that I wanted to do differently just based off my own needs but that didn't mean that I wasn't still open to hearing what worked for other people.  Now if once you have the baby and people still tell you the way your doing it is wrong, you have every right to tell them to shove it.  Your a mom now and only you know whats best.  But as long as your still living in the naive bliss of pregnancy, at least listen, even if it goes in one ear and out the other.

Point is, everyone does things differently and has a difference experience (yes, including poorly placed epidurals).  And that's okay.  If you wouldn't let your husband near a diaper because of the possibility of improper poop removal, I get it and that's your choice.  I on the other hand would have been lost if it wasn't for Bryan's help.  I had Wyatt on a schedule by 4 weeks and refused to feed him more then every 3 hours.  I know, definitely not for everyone but it worked for me and I WILL share with you why I thought it worked, but won't judge you when you devise a plan to attach a straw to your boob so you can nurse while driving.

Pregnancies are different.  Babies are different.  And that makes moms different too.

And thank goodness for that because I would hate to be stuck in a room with 10 moms who did it the same as me, wrote a blog about it, and swore by the power of BabyWise like it was the Bible.

And when I come home from the hospital in May, swearing my epidural didn't take... NOBODY better bring up this blog.  Got it?

Truly Blessed.

My little, big boys.



Morning after his first night in his new bed, at 9:00.

I am officially the parent of a toddler.

For some reason as we tucked Wyatt into his new bed, in his new room for the first time last night I realized the true meaning to this little, yet oh so big, moment.  My baby was one step closer, if not crossing the finish line, to becoming a toddler.

As I saw the empty crib sitting in his old nursery an overwhelming sense of nostalgia (and hormones) hit me and I began to cry.              Life is going to fast and while I am enjoying every moment of every day I do just wish it would slow down, just a little. 

Boo-boo, pacifiers, and blankies have long since been forgotten.  Wyatt puts himself to bed, with his newest buddy Scout (thank you Nana!), and should he need a little more time to fall asleep, we simply hear Scout's foot get pressed again and another round of 'Bingo' begins.  I don't know if its something I did that has made it easy and that's definitely not to say that it always has been... or always will be.  I realize we have made it through one night and that there are many more, possibly less peaceful ones to come, but in light of making time slow down, I take it in stride and am enjoying this mornings little blessing.

So now its time to move on to working on Weston.  Sometimes I feel guilty, like I'm not doing enough for him or focusing my energy on Wyatt still but this time around, having another boy, there just really isn't that much to do!  I decided not to change the nursery too much, besides getting a few new wall decorations to replace the ones that moved into Wyatt's room.  The clothes are washed and waiting to be put away.  I have had to buy a few new jammies and shirts for the newborn stage, but besides that my new little man is set.

It feels weird to think that Bryan and I are going to have 2 kids.  When you only have 1, you feel like new parents who can easily make mistakes and recover.  If something doesn't go accordingly you can always fall back on the excuse of, "Well its not like we've done this before!"  Having 2 kids is official.  Legit.  You are a family.  You should be coaching t-ball teams, driving a minivan, and wearing elastic pants.  You have done it before and you should know how to do it again.  So I can't help but wonder if it will all come back to me.  If I will be able to do it again as easily as I felt like I was able to do it with Wyatt.  The scheduling, the nursing, the pacifiers, it all just fell into place for us the first time and you can't help but wonder if that's God way of giving you a little pass on the first round, because he knows what lies ahead with #2.

Regardless of whether or not Weston is as laid back as his big brother, we are so excited to ring in 2012, the year of Weston.  With less then 150 days to go it is all I can do to not make a paper chain like a kid counting down for Christmas, to the day that my 2nd little man gets to come into this world.  Hopefully a little earlier, and easier, then his brother.

I never get tired of saying it...
truly blessed.