The Crazy Thing I Did for Love

I recently turned 29, and I have to admit that - for weeks beforehand - I was really dreading it. 29: it just sounded SO old! Never mind that many of my friends have turned 29 (and older!) with grace and poise, I was just nervous about it. I mean, it’s only 365 days from 30 and I think we all feel a little wary of that big number, don’t we?

At any rate, as I was celebrating with my family the weekend before my big day I indulged in a bit of reflection. What was the big deal about 29? I figured out that it just sounded so much older than I feel. I definitely feel like I’m a lot wiser and more mature at 29 than I was at 28, but I’m just not ready to be quite so grown-up. So I did something I’d been thinking about since we found out we were having a Henry (as opposed to a Heidi): I got a tattoo!

If you had asked me 2 years ago, I would have told you I would NEVER get a tattoo. It’s not that I’m morally opposed or anything like that. I just couldn’t have imagined an image I would want on my body forever. I mean, I wear my wedding ring every single day, but even that comes off in the shower. But in the past 11 months I have been transformed into a new person. It’s not just that I gave birth and so I felt like I could handle the pain of the tattoo. Nope, it was more that. I feel so much love and joy on the inside that I wanted to have a physical reminder that I could look at any time. And even though it hurt (still not nearly as much as labor, obviously) and I’m certain it’ll be my only tattoo ever, I’m so glad I got it. My parents were less than delighted when they found out, but I didn’t do this for anyone but me. And maybe a little bit for Henry. So when he grows up he can see that my love for him is so overwhelming that I just couldn’t contain it in my heart. It had to spill over to my ankle.

Happy (belated) Mother's Day!

Ah, Mother’s Day. I hope yours was phenomenal. I think it goes without saying that I have a brand new respect and awe for all moms everywhere this year, now that I know what motherhood is all about. I was blessed to be able to see the most important moms in my life this year. My mother in law had to work (boo!), but she joined us for breakfast in the morning to enjoy her beloved son and grandson. Then we went to visit my parents and grandparents in the afternoon, where my dad grilled up some delicious steaks. All in all, it was a wonderful day and I was so pleased to be able to join in the fun this year. Go mommies!
In honor of Mother’s Day, I would like to present the top 10 pieces of advice I received that I would like to pass on to other new mommies. So, with no further ado:

1. Sleep when your baby sleeps. This is a common one, but it’s SO easy to disregard. I was always really tempted to do housework during naptime, but trust me: the dishes will wait. Your mind and body need sleep to function and care for your baby.
2. Babies rarely cry for no reason. The top 3 reasons are that they’re hungry, have a dirty diaper, or are otherwise hurt or uncomfortable. If a feeding, burping, and new diaper don’t help, and your baby doesn’t appear to be in pain be patient and call the doctor. Which leads to …
3. ASK FOR HELP! Whether it’s from your mom, your doc, or your boss. People are usually VERY willing to help a new mom, but nobody can read minds. As for the doctor, call as often as you need to. It’s better to be safe than sorry. And, after all, that’s why you’re paying them all that money.
4. Boob is (almost) always the answer. If you’re breastfeeding, you have 2 perfect baby calmers in your arsenal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Henry NOT calm down when presented with a nipple. I’ve read articles by moms around the world, and they all agree: a readily available breast equals a contented baby.
5. Your body WILL return to normal. Even after you get your pre-pregnancy jeans back on, there are adjustments to be made. It took me several months to figure out how to sleep with big, sometimes sore, constantly leaky boobs (sleep bra + hand towel, by the way). But eventually you’ll be you again. This is just one of those times when you have to roll with the punches and be patient.
6. It’s not forever. Even with the most pleasant baby, motherhood is NOT easy. But when you get stressed out and feel like you’d rather have a root canal than change one more diaper, just remember this: It’s not forever. Before you know it, your little one will have moved on to the next phase and you’ll have a whole new set of worries. J
7. You’re doing a great job! If you worry, plan, fret, stew, or feel concern for your baby (along with all the loving, rocking, feeding, singing, etc.), then you’re doing just fine and I hope someone tells you so every day.
8. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. This is true for you AND for baby. Of course you don’t ever want your munchkin hurt, but babies do fall. Don’t fuss too much (as long as s/he’s not serious injured!), and try to remember that babies learn by trial and error.
9. Trust yourself. Everyone will have words of wisdom for you, but it’s important to remember that this is your baby, and your instincts are usually pretty reliable. You know that little miracle better than anyone, after all, so listen to peoples’ advice, consider it, and then do what works best for you and your child.
10. This is the best job EVER! It’s very difficult, but I promise you it’s worth every moment of lost sleep when your baby falls asleep smiling in your arms, or reaches out for you, or gives you a big hug & kiss. So. Totally. Worth. It!

Weaning

And so the time has come. After much discussion and research, Elvis and I decided recently that a year was probably about long enough to breastfeed. I love it and Henry loves it, but it’s just becoming too painful now that he’s got those four precious teeth. So we set out on what I thought would be a long road, eliminating one feeding at a time until he was entirely off the boob. Contrary to all the reading I did, the nighttime feeding was the first (and easiest) to go. It’s actually been about 3 weeks since Henry nursed to sleep at bedtime, and I don’t think he even noticed. I still cuddle and read and talk to him before bed, and we say our prayers before I put him in his crib, and I don’t think he’s ever slept better than recently, when his belly is full of solid food. Glorious. So I progressed to eliminating a pre-naptime breastfeeding as well, and wouldn’t you know it? Nary a fuss. Last week the kid didn’t get a boob at all, and he was just as happy as a clam. He still nurses occasionally in the morning, but I’d say he’s about 96% weaned at this point. And you’d never know how much he loved nursing now, to my dismay.
That’s right: as much pain as it caused me in the beginning (physical and emotional), I have fallen in love with nursing my son. It was so sweet to hold him in my arms and nourish him myself, and while I love the new ease and freedom of not having to confine ourselves to the nursery at feeding time, I also feel this sense of loss that I couldn’t have imagined. The days of being able to hold my little lovebug in my arms as he sleeps are numbered, and the thought brings tears to my eyes every time it flits through my mind.
How on earth am I going to make it through a lifetime of these little milestones?

A Cheerleader for Motherhood

I know as well as anyone that motherhood is simply NOT for everyone.  Heck, I was certain it wasn't for me until about 2 years ago.  But now that I have gone through the process, and know just how sweet life is with a baby, I want everyone to experience it. 
With a few exceptions, my friends are all still very single and in no real hurry to settle down.  I have friends with babies now (totally a must for new parents), and they are all fantastic friends as well as wonderful parents of smart, beautiful children.  But I can't help wishing my girlfriends would hurry up and fall in love, get married, and start popping out babies too.  I want to love and support them as they grow their families, just as they have supported the 3 of us.  I want to watch their bellies swell with life, and calm their fears about labor.  I want to see their lives enriched in ways they could never have imagined, babysit for a few hours so they can shower and nap, and watch their little miracles grow and discover the world.  Yes, I want more little friends for Henry.  He loves other kids, and it's always so much fun to watch him interacting with other little ones.  But more than that, I just want everyone to experience the pure magic that Henry has brought to our lives.  I love him so much, and it seems so greedy to hog all the joy of motherhood.
Yes, it's difficult, tiresome, messy, thankless, sleepless, noisy, smelly, exhausting work.  But the rewards are so priceless: a toothless smile, a giggle, a drooly kiss.  Pure, so-sweet-you-can't-help-but-cry, unending love both given and returned every second of the day.  What on earth could be better?  I'm sure I can't think of anything.
So come on, ladies!  Join me, won't you?

Mon Petit Amor <3

My Little Frat Boy

So, breastfeeding. It was a long and rocky road for Henry and me, but ever since we got the hang of it it's been sweet, smooth sailing. I never thought I would still be doing it at almost 10 months but here we are, four precious little teeth and all. As far as I can tell, the only downside is Henry's new and all-consuming obsession with boobs. It doesn't even matter whose boobs, he just loves 'em. His new favorite activity during play time is to glance from my cleavage to my face, rub his face against my chest, and then grin hopefully up at me. It's kind of cute, since he's so little and adorable, but I can't help but be reminded of a little drunken frat boy every time he ogles me and then flashes that adorable little smile. 
Oh, this kid is gonna be a heartbreaker.

The Perks of Being a Parent

Obviously the best part of motherhood is the actual baby whose mom I get to be. Henry is ... well, he's just about perfect. He sleeps through the night, he's ALWAYS in a good mood, he's really really ridiculously good-looking, and he's even frightfully good at eating "solid" foods. Yes, Elvis and I pretty much hit the baby jackpot with our little snugglebug. 
But going out in public with him is like being a minor celebrity. It's remarkable how patient and kind people are when they see us (especially when they see King Henry). People open doors for us, sometimes even standing and waiting if they see us a small distance away. Nobody gawks at me when my hair or clothes look a mess, or when I can't find my wallet at the cash register amid the diapers, teethers, stuffed creatures, puffs, and face wipeys.  If we're waiting to be seated at a restaurant, our fellow waiters can't jump out of their seats fast enough to let the parents of the small adorable child sit down. And, possibly the most heart-warming of all is how even the grumpiest-looking old men will crack a smile when they see my little Cutie Pie grinning at them. 
Yes indeed, there are a million reasons to be thankful for my precious son. Helping me regain my faith in the inherent goodness of others is just one.  

Grrr ...

I'm getting really fed up with this asinine system. Every time I go to preview my post, so I can edit it and make sure it makes sense, it's gone when I cone back to publish. Come on, Blogger. Get it together.

Family photos

I was born into a family of shutterbugs, and I am - unashamedly - a big one myself.  Having a new baby in the family has really not helped our tendencies to snap photos pretty much constantly.  And, of course, since Elvis and I are so proud of our handsome, strapping son, we have a TON of beautiful, posed photos of the three of us.  But my favorite family photos are the ones where everyone's being ... well ... themselves.  For example, a few years ago for Thanksgiving my entire family rented a bed and breakfast for a weekend.  One day was designated as picture day, and we all donned our similar outfits and posed for picture after picture after picture in front of the B&B.  And, even though my entire family is exceedingly good-looking, the pics are all kinda boring.  It's nice to see everyone together, enjoying themselves, but that's not us.  We're just not stiff, smile-for-the-camera folk.  So my 2 favorite pictures of the day are as follows:

This is my mom and her sister.  They've always been a little odd.

and

My parents, brother, and husband all thought it would be funny to tell me to face a different direction for our family photo.  Ha ha, silly Sarah.

So, back to my point.  On Christmas Eve, at my parents' house, Santa Claus himself made a surprise visit to see little Henry, and was nice enough to stick around for some pictures.  We got about a dozen of all the aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc. but my favorite by far is this one.  As we were all settling into yet another politely smiling photo, I shouted "Everyone pretend you're biting the baby!"  And this hilarious pic was born.  I guess, to be technical, Santa is punching my dad in lieu of biting my son, but I think the point still gets across.  We're not formal or forced, and if we all look a bit ridiculous, well ... have you met us?

Meeting the Big Guy

Oh, Christmas.  It's truly my favorite time of year, and this year the Christmas season has already been so special just with the addition of our little elf.  Decorating the tree and the apartment, baking Christmas cookies, stringing up lights ... it's all so magical, but so far the best part has been when Henry met Santa.



Henry and Santa Claus: BFF



Two weeks ago, my parents' church hosted Breakfast with Santa.  My folks were so excited they insisted that we come down, and so we did.  We dressed Henry in something adorable (it was tough, as all his clothes are pretty adorable) and made the trip, and then stood in line for ... well ... awhile.  Honestly, I was excited about seeing how Henry would react.  I was a bit worried that standing in line for an hour in a mall crowded with other, possibly bad-tempered children might spoil the experience, so I was glad we were able to visit Santa for free.  The line snaked closer and closer, and finally it was our turn.  Elvis plopped Henry down on Santa's lap, and my little angel turned and looked and Santa, and started cooing at him like they were old friends.  It was so cute, and I was super-delighted to hear the woman in line behind me remark, "I've never seen a baby so at-ease with Santa!"  I guess I shouldn't be surprised; I already knew my child was quite the most amazing child ever. 

My Big Baby

Henry had his 6-month checkup yesterday and it was his best yet! He got the go-ahead to start eating some veggies (good times for Mama & Poppa!), Elvis wasn't tempted to punch the nurse (she is such a know-it-all), and my near-constant feedings paid off when it was time to weigh and measure the baby. He weighs almost 19 pounds (nearly tripling his birth weight), and he's 28 inches long. I'm inordinately pleased that he's so giant (in the 91st percentile!). I wanted my boy to be a big, strong, strapping man and was a little surprised when he was born so tiny. So now I guess I can't complain anymore about how Henry can't go more than about 6 minutes without eating, can I?