Bittersweet

I go back to work tomorrow.

I'm really excited about getting back to the office, for a number of reasons, but mostly I'm just looking forward to being a part of a group again, a part of a team.  I think that's the hardest part about being at home with kids, it tends to make you feel sort of isolated.  I don't know why this is, but you feel like everyone else (whomever that even refers to) is out there busy being a part of things, running here and there, participating in and contributing to society as a whole.

And you're home with small children, who constantly NEED something from you, and it can be a tedious, thankless job.  Arguably, one of the most important jobs out there, but yeah, the "lows" are certainly unlike any other paid job.

I think if I was going to do this thing, like really full time, no joke, stay home with my children... I'd definitely have to do the mom group thing, at least one or two days a week, and also maybe join a gym.  Because it's that sense of adult camaraderie I'd miss so much, the "office gossip", that sense of we're in this together.

Anyway, so tomorrow is the day.  And it's bittersweet because these past twelve weeks have been such an incredible trip.  In the beginning it felt like I was living someone else's life, and now here at the end, well it's the opposite. The idea of setting my alarm and dressing in something other than a nursing tank and jeans, dropping my kids off at grandma's and picking up coffee on the way to the office where I'll spend hours in meetings with engineers... well that sounds like someone else's life.  (Parts of it do sound just heavenly though, I have to admit.)

I'm going to miss the boys like crazy, particularly I'm a little heartbroken about leaving Louie.  Even though I have the perspective of having done this before, so I know that he will do just fine without his mama and that he and his grandmas will figure each other out and find their own rhythm, (really it's probably a good thing for both of us to spend a little time apart), it still just breaks my heart.  He's so little, and all he has to go on in life so far is what he knows from the last 12 weeks, and pretty much, well, that's me.  Me and his dad and Gus, but mostly, me, his mama.  I've always been there and now I'm not going to be, and he's not going to understand at first, and that makes me so unbelievably sad.  I know.  Ridiculous.  I remember feeling EXACTLY the same way when I went back to work after having Gus, he did just fine and even if he did, he never let on that he felt abandoned by his mother.

Oh gracious me.

Well I could not have lucked out more to have the most incredible weather during the last month of my maternity leave.  Here's a little of what we've been up to.  

Louie taking a good nap on his great-grandma at James's birthday party.
 

We have taken many walks to many different parks over the last few weeks, and I feel like I'm getting double the workout by carrying Louie in the Moby or BabyHawk.  At least my back is, good lor-ed.

Louie and mom at the park.

Louie loves lounging on the blanket, looking up at the sky and smiling at his mama while Gus runs around on the playground. 

Daddy teaching Gus the appropriate way to swing a bat in our back yard.  Meh.  He went back to doing it his way (one-handed) shortly after this.  He does what he wants.

This girl, our first baby, sometimes gets forgotten.  She needs to be groomed really really badly, even though I've had a whole three months to make an appointment and get her in.  Poor forgotten little sheltie. 

Tummy time isn't so bad, as long as he can manage to get his hand to his mouth. 

Putting together our new double stroller, Gus was SO EXCITED, and of course had to lay down on the floor and get a good look at the wheels and see how it works.  (Future engineer like his dad?)

I suppose I can give some details about why we went with the stroller we did for anyone in the market for something similar.  Warning: Really Boring Stroller Talk coming up...

We went with the Schwinn Turismo, after a lot of debate and research and hours reading a ridiculous number of finicky reviews about various double strollers on Amazon.  So far so good, it's the perfect stroller for us at the right price.  We were looking for something strictly for walks around the neighborhood or hikes of the more adventurous variety.  Walking is pretty much the only way I get exercise these days, and while I'd like for that to change at some point, we are all about the long walks to neighborhood parks, (usually 3 miles plus), and have trained Gus to love them as well.  So we needed something that handles well on both grass and jacked up city streets, with seats and canopies that could be adjusted independent of each other.  The Schwinn is also is one of the only walking/jogging strollers with a pivoting front wheel that has a height-adjustable handle, which is nice for Dan.  At 6'3" he often has a problem with kicking the back of strollers while he walks, but that doesn't happen with this one.  Storage was also something we considered, because the storage on our BOB sucks, it has undoubtedly been our number one complaint with that fancy pants stroller.  So yeah, the storage on this thing is AWESOME.  You can actually get a diaper bag under there while kids are sitting in the stroller.  Amazing.  As an extra bonus, it came with cup holders for us and trays for the kids, no extra add-on accessory costs. 

This thing definitely isn't for the faint of heart.  It's pretty massive and not the kind of thing you'd want to drag all over the place, or have to load in and out of the car very often.  We still want a sit-and-stand of some sort, for less "athletic" outings (i.e. the mall, zoo, vacations, etc.), but when we priced it out, we realized we could get the Schwinn and one of those smaller, lighter tandem strollers for less than the price of one of the really high-end double strollers, like the Double BOB or the City Mini Double.

Phew.  Boring stroller talk over.    

We discovered our new favorite neighborhood park, it's tucked away in a part of our city that we don't usually walk, and it is lovely and quiet in an off-the-beaten-path kind of way.

These two did not purposely dress the same that day.  :)  Goodness they are cute.

Finally, here's the little guy that is causing me a bit of heartbreak today.  Sweetheart, I know you are in good hands with your grandmas and all of your aunts and uncles who dote on you so sweetly.  Thank you for being such a funny, laid back guy.  I've had such a great time hanging out with you and loving on you these past months.  Tomorrow begins our whole new normal, again!  But really, that's just how it is with a little baby, in three months you'll be sitting up and eating cheerios and laughing at your brother at breakfast from your high chair.  It all just goes so crazy fast, and I am just holding on for the ride.  So excited to see what's next for all of us! 

The Grandmas

The Grandmas have played a very important and special part of the boys' and my lives over the last few months. 

Fact: the grandmas have kept me sane during my maternity leave, getting us out of the house, giving me adults to talk to, helping me beat the isolation blues that creep in when I'm on my own too much.  

I've loved spending so much time with these two women.  They listen when I ramble on about my insecurities.  They take joy in being with my children.  They laugh about the stupid stuff.  They wrangle my toddler when he needs wrangling and I'm trapped under a nursing baby.  They give me a break from parenting two children when I need it. 

And we've all had so much fun, at least I know Gus and I have.  (Louie is pretty much always happy, provided he's not being offered a bottle.)

They've also provided us with a little bit of a varied routine which has been welcome.  I like routine, kids need routine, but I just can't really handle the monotony of staying home in the middle of winter, day after day after day, which goes something like this:  

Out of bed (nurse), breakfast, pump, Thomas episode, Louie down for a nap (nurse), play with Gus, Louie up (nurse), find a way to entertain Gus some more, lunch, nap time (nurse), dishes & tidy up, pull out meat for dinner, watch some TV and play on the internet, boys are up (nurse), entertain Gus some more, Dan home, TALK HIS EAR OFF about the minute details of our dull but nice day.
    

Those days are good, but I can only handle a few of them each week or I start to crack up, as does Gus. 

Our weekly routine that includes The Grandmas goes something like this:

Monday: School (ECFE) at 9AM, pick up "Grandma Who" at 10:45, go off on some sort of adventure (mall, zoo, library, etc.) that usually includes lunch out, home before 2:00 PM for a late nap (or sometimes Gus goes to Grandma's to spend some time and take a nap), Dan is home before Gus is even awake.

Tuesday: Day at home, usually something like the above described, maybe with some variation like a walk down the street to the coffee shop for a treat (if the weather permits), or a trip to Target/Costco/Grocery store (somewhere where I can strap Gus down in a cart and wear Louie).

Wednesday: Grandma Who's other day off, which means either a full day adventure like the Children's Museum, or we head to toddler playtime at the neighboring community's gym and then meet my mom's friend Karen for Greek or Chinese food.  Usually I get home and I'm completely exhausted and a little sweaty, but we've all had a total blast and Gus got to do something that I wouldn't attempt on my own with two children. 

 Thursday: "Grandma Norstrum"!  We head over to my mother-in-law's home and spend the day playing with the kids, eating hummus and drinking Diet Coke, talking about mothering small children, yelling at the dogs, watching day-time television, and smooching on the babies.  It's relaxing, yet crazy chaotic, all in the same day.  Gus usually doesn't get a nap on these days, which means there's an hour or so (usually around the 3:00 hour) where things are a bit dicey, but then later it also means a 7:00 PM bedtime and lots of husband/wife time in the evening.  Winners all around.

Friday: Another day home, just me and the boys and that's fine with me because the week has been long and exhausting.  We also usually have some plans for the evening as it is, so there's something to look forward to.  Gotta admit, on Fridays I'm super laid back mom and Gus probably watches more TV than on other days.  And that's totally cool.  I like Fridays.            


So yeah, this has been life for the last ten weeks, and it's coming to a close not too long from now.  No doubt, I'm feeling pretty wistful about that.

Thank you to The Grandmas.  You've been such a huge part of what has made these months so wonderful, and I will forever remember this time as a happy time.  Honestly, I've even been able to see what it could be like to be a stay at home mom, and that I might actually not mind it so much.  Just so long as I'd have my village.  My village pretty much consisting of, well, The Grandmas.   

Bath Time

I gave Louie a bath this morning and decided I needed to finally step up my mom game and get a few photos of his glorious rolls and buddha belly.  Oh how I yearn for the warm summer months when I can take in his deliciousness every single day, and dress him in little striped short-sleeved bodysuits and puny short-talls that barely cover his diaper.  But alas, it is March, and I continue to pile on the layers every morning, something it seems I'm almost instinctively driven to do as a mother of an infant. 

Really at this point it's pretty ridiculous how overdressed this child is, because as we get to know each other better, I'm finding out that he is quite warm-blooded.  He gets uncomfortable when dressed in cozy fleece, breaks out in a heat rash covering his whole body after being worn in a wrap on a walk in fifty degree weather, and comes out of the car seat a sweaty mess after even just a few minutes of shrieking on the way to grandma's.

Still, I can't seem to stop myself.  "But what if he gets cold!"

Anyway...

Behold, my fifteen pound two month-old.  I mean look at him, is there anything more beautiful than a baby in his birthday suit?  I think no.  And there quite likely will be no other time in his life when his rolls and butt dimples and double chins will be celebrated and gushed over.  So we must make sure to stop and do so while these things are still admirable.  

 

Oh my goodness he is just so sweet, those big blue eyes kill me dead.

 

He locked eyes with me throughout his bath this morning and I can't help wonder what he's thinking.  I'd love to see the world through his eyes.  I wonder if he loves me as much as I love him, it just doesn't seem possible.  

On my mind

Bottles 
We are amidst a full on battle of the bottle with Louie these days. We did as they say to do, we introduced the bottle when Louie was about four weeks old. Four week old Louie was totally cool with the bottle, drank down a few ounces with absolutely no protest and we breathed a sigh of relief. Phew, dodged that bullet, one less thing to worry about. Cross that one off the list. Bottle, CHECK!

Then we got a bit lazy about it, and I think he only had one other bottle before he was six weeks old. And then we went to give him one and he was all, Oh hell no! What is this?

Likes: smiling and nursing.  Dislikes: bottles and his car seat.

Ugghhhh. So for the last two weeks we've made it our mission to get this figured out. We even took a trip to Babies R Us and bought like a billion different bottles to try, with nipples that more closely resemble the boob. It was worth a shot right? I prayed that we would find that magical perfect nipple that he loved and our problems would be solved. Yeah. Not so much. (Though we have decided that we and Louie all like the Tommy Tippy bottles the best, so we made a little bit of progress there.)

This last week we really got down to business and attempted to at least try a bottle every day. Tuesday night I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown while Dan worked at it with the little guy for TWO AND A HALF HOURS. Louie got really upset a number of times, and I was this close to running in there and punching Dan in the face and stealing my poor poor baby from his arms. Mama bear ATTACKS!

It was a terrible night. Though after those two and a half hours he did finally wear Louie down, and he drank four ounces and then nursed from me and fell asleep for the next seven hours or so. Poor guy was tuckered out from all the drama. So was Dan. So was I. Gus was in the basement playing, mostly oblivious, lucky bastard.

We took that as a victory but made sure to try again the next day, and (sigh) it was more of the same, though not quite as drawn out, maybe only an hour of torture this time. I know, I should just leave the house.

Anyway, we stepped back a little and are trying to have perspective about this problem, after a reassuring talk with the pediatrician.  Yeah, it's something we have to figure out, but it may just take a day or two of being away from mama for a long period of time, and he may just need to get truly hungry. When I go back in (holy crap!) three weeks, I only work three days a week, and until my sister-in-law starts watching the kids in June, both grandmas are helping out. He's truly in good, loving, experienced hands.

Maybe he'll be one of those kids that drinks the bare minimum while mama is away, just enough to ward off uncomfortableness. We just don't know, but it's really one of those things that I don't have a lot of control over. We'll keep trying everyday, but not to the point of traumatizing the poor child. If he doesn't take a bottle one day, we will roll with it and won't treat it like the end of the world, or some HUGE PROBLEM that we have to conquer that day. Patience. Perspective.

Packing on the Pounds
Thank goodness I'm referring to Louie here, and not me, (though I'm not exactly where I'd like to be). We had his two month visit with the pediatrician and dude is growing, like whoa. He's topping the charts at 15 lbs even, up nearly six pounds from his birth weight. It'll be interesting to see if he continues to be massive, or if he starts to even out between four and six months like Gus did.

Look how huge he looks here in his dad's arms!  And he's wearing something Gus wore at 5 months.

As for me, I seem to have hit a plateau with my weight loss, and I still have about five pounds to go to get back to my pre-baby weight. Though really, I'd love to lose ten pounds, which would put me at around my lowest weight that I was at while breastfeeding Gus. He started to nurse less and less near the end, to the point where when I got pregnant with Louie (and he was about 20 months) it was probably just around twice a day, and I had gained back some weight.

So how am I going to lose five or ten more pounds when I don't exercise at all and am constantly starving and snacking throughout the day? That is quite the dilemma, isn't it? Oh well, I just don't see myself finding the time to exercise "for real" anytime soon, so I'm looking forward to spring when I can start getting out walking again with the boys. On a related note, I need to get with the program and make a decision on a double stroller in the very near future. Because it's March (wooo!) and spring is right around the corner. Hopefully I have plenty of time before tank-top weather to get in a little bit better shape. ;)

I am thinking, "Ooh, a sucker!  What can I go find to eat?"

Sleep
Well, the big guy is smiling and cooing up a storm these days, and sleeping really really really well. He sleeps a good chunk at the beginning of the night, usually from around 7:00 or 8:00 in the evening until somewhere between 12:30 to 1:30 AM. After that he's up to eat about every two to three hours. It all feels so manageable, so lovely, compared to the hellish sleep we got with Gus for about two years, so I'm enjoying it while I can, knowing that it could change at a moment's notice. Everything sleep-related really seemed to truly go down-hill around the 4-month wakeful period with Gus, and it never got better. So I'm still afraid to even get used to any of this awesomeness (I may have a little post-traumatic stress from two years of sleep deprivation), but I definitely will enjoy it while it lasts and hold out hope for something different this time.

I'll give this baby credit though, already I can recognize HUGE differences between him and his brother when it comes to sleep. Quite often Louie is able to put himself to sleep without a problem, provided he isn't over-tired or over-stimulated. I can just set him in his bassinet, close the door, and he kicks around a bit, makes some noises, and with really no fuss goes to sleep very quickly.

This is like a dream for us, as Gus NEVER put himself to sleep. EVER. Seriously.  We still, to this day, lay with him at night and at nap time to help him go to sleep. As a baby he was rocked, shushed, cuddled, nursed, bounced, Moby'd, sang to, and just generally hard-core parented to sleep for every nap and at every bedtime. You name the method, we used it at one point or another. And that's okay, I've made some peace with the fact that Gus needed all that, he was a high-needs baby and is still a highly energetic, highly sensitive kid, and it's a part of what makes him Gus.

The non-sleeper playing with his cousin, and some sort of bizarre white tiger.

.Louie, on the other hand, already seems quite a bit more independent, and consequently is less of a cuddler. He reserves his cuddles for his mama while nursing, or if someone wants to hold him while he's asleep, he's cool with that. But otherwise, he'd rather you walk around with him and give him a good view of the world, or lay him on the bed so he can kick and talk and smile and coo at you. He does love the Moby just like his big brother though, and is totally fine with napping in it if you're out and about, and on occasion likes to be worn to sleep at night.

On that note, I definitely am still loving the Moby, it makes life one million times more manageable with a toddler and a baby, especially on errands. On any given day you might find the three of us at Target or the grocery store, Gus kicking around strapped into the cart, eating snacks and demanding one thing or another, and Louie napping or taking in his surroundings snuggled up in the wrap. How do people do this without babywearing?   

Tuesday snowday

Life has sort of gotten back to normal, even though I'm on maternity leave and that is totally not normal, the rest of it is starting to actually feel like my life again.  For a while after having a baby that just isn't the case, but slowly the new baby becomes an integrated part of your family, a part of your routine, and I'm almost getting to that point where my memories of everyday life without Louie feel like a prior life.

I really like this little crew of boys that I get to spend my days with.  We've fallen into a bit of a rhythm, and Gus has definitely warmed up to his little brother.  When I go up to get him out of bed every morning he excitedly talks about going downstairs to see Louie.  This morning we came down and climbed into our bed and all three of us snugged under the covers, Gus with his cup of milk, clutching my ponytail, and Louie nursing and taking breaks to smile and coo at us.  The only thing that would have made it better would have been if someone had provided me with my own morning beverage, preferably caffeinated.

Yeah, this is life lately.  Our mornings are slow and indulgent, and usually by 10:00 AM we're off on some sort of adventure.

Monday night it FINALLY SNOWED!  Yes, it has been such a strange winter, unusually warm and hardly any of the fluffy white stuff.

Well, I texted Grandma yesterday morning and asked if we could come over so the kids could make a snowman with Gus.  He's a lucky kid to have such young and enthusiastic aunts and uncles, and it makes my life much easier, that's for sure.  I don't think I would have attempted to take him outside at home, a 7 week old baby just makes that sort of thing so much more complicated, and this way I could relax and catch up with my mother-in-law while children with energy enough for playing outside in the snow entertained my two year old.  Win-win!

But this is the thing about kids going outside in the snow.  It takes SO MUCH effort to get them all bundled up, the long underwear, the snow pants, the big clunky boots, and then convincing them to let you put on giant mittens that pretty much render their hands useless.

Ugggghhh.

Yesterday I was literally sweating and panting like a fool after this whole process.  I actually let him go outside without mittens for a few minutes because he was fighting the whole process and wanted to play with his shovel, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before he'd be cold enough to allow me to put them on him.

I was right, I know my kid.  So I ran outside about five minutes later and wrestled those things on his little hands, tucking them into his coat so they didn't fall off.  And then finally they were all outside, fully mitten-ed, and there was a collective "phew".  I collapsed on the couch.

Yeah, you know where this is going.  I swear it was at most three minutes after I had wrestled the mittens on him and he was back inside, whining for the snacks I had tried to convince him to eat before getting all bundled up.  I really didn't want to have to take his mittens off, because those things are definitely the worst part of this whole rigmarole, so for a few minutes I crouched down and fed him pretzels.  That got annoying and tedious real fast, so I took off the mittens, but there was no way I was taking anything else off. 

It wasn't long before he was back outside.  Ridiculous.     

And cute.  Ridiculous, but definitely cute.

Do not mind the copious amount of dried boogers caked on his face.

These two were specifically told NOT to play in the window well, but they decided to slide down it anyway, and at one point when I stuck my head out there to check on Gus, I found all three of them down there.  They yelled for my help, and said Gus's boots had fallen off and they couldn't get them back on him and he was stuck down there because it was hard to climb out and they tried to help him but he kept falling and his BOOTS WERE FALLING OFF!

So hilarious.  So dramatic!

I climbed down there precariously, almost falling myself, and somehow heaved my thirty pound child out of the window well and inside to warm up.  He lost a boot again on the way out, so I had to have Julia throw it up to me.  

I'm pretty sure he had a blast, despite the boot drama.

My mother-in-law took this picture of me and Louie, and despite the frizziness going on from sleeping on wet hair the night before, I LOVE IT.  I mean look at that little guy's perfect little mouth and cheeks.  I love him, and I love this picture because this is what I have spent the last 7 weeks doing, holding this little guy, helping him grow.  I am so lucky. 

It was a really good Tuesday.  On days like these I can't help but think about what I would be doing if I wasn't on maternity leave, and was at the office.  Hmm, not quite as ridiculous but also not quite as fun.  I have to admit that while caring for young children can sometimes feel tedious and isolating, it is also quite a bit more rewarding than going to meetings and updating spreadsheets all day.  Come April, I'm so very lucky to get to do both, Friday through Monday at home, Tuesday through Thursday at the office, because I definitely find myself needing a break from both.

Figuring things out

At the risk of jinxing it, (and if all goes to hell after this is published, I swear I will quit blogging), things are going really well here at the five week mark.  The fact that I say that, despite one particularly annoying and nasty setback that goes by the name of thrush, says quite a bit.

We've been keeping really busy.  During the week I seem to have something planned most days, whether it's Gus's ECFE class, spending the day with my mom, having a visitor, hanging out at my in-laws, or meeting one of my brothers for lunch, there always seems to be something.  This is good for me, because I am totally someone that quickly becomes unhinged when I spend too much time at home.  Dan and I really differ on this. So on weekends I'm all, "HEY MAN, LET'S GET GOING, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO TODAY?!  BOOK STORE? CHILDREN'S MUSEUM? COSTCO? COFFEE SHOP?" as soon as we wake up.  And he has been working all week long, and balks at how much work it is to get out of the house, questioning whether it's really worth it, so we end up at a bit of a crossroads.  But all I can think about is the fact that we have four parental hands on the weekends, to combat/control the four child-sized hands that we are in charge of, so we have to take advantage of that and get out of the house and do something fun! fun! fun!  Even though, yeah, it's going to also be a lot of work, but that is simply life with two kids.

Louie's first bottle at 4 weeks old

The extra amount of work is just something I'm starting to get used to.  The other day I had my first 100% tear-free and no-stress get-out-of-the-house-by-myself-with-two-kids scenario.  I got in the car and drove away and just felt so powerful, like, I can do this, I AM doing this!  I imagine it would be this song in the background that morning as I drove off, if my life were a romantic comedy.  

In other news, I am already, after only five weeks of this, SO SICK of my everyday wardrobe of a nursing tank with some sort of loose top over it, jeans or leggings, and my muffin top.  I loathe getting dressed in the morning.  I say this even though I realize that yes, just a month or so ago I was making a similar complaint about my maternity clothes and massive belly, so really, can I ever just be happy?  The answer to that?  Probably not, at least not for another nine months to a year, which I feel like is how long it takes to start feeling like yourself again after having a baby.

4 weeks postpartum - stretchy pants of course

So I also realized the other day that it has been over a year since I've gotten my hair cut or colored.  Isn't that ridiculous?  I seriously have become some sort of hippie.  A very LAZY hippie, that is.  Thus, this week I vow to make a hair appointment, because that's something I can control, as we all know my postpartum muffin top won't likely be going away for a while even if I'm just a few pounds away from being back at pre-pregnancy weight.  The postpartum muffin top cares not how much I weigh, it will make itself comfortable and hang out for a while no matter what.  I suppose it would probably help to do some crunches, but I won't even pretend that's going to happen.   

Ok, so how about I talk about that baby of mine.

 

He turned five weeks old on Saturday, and people he is getting huge!  He was already nearly eleven pounds at the two week mark, so who knows what he weighs at this point, but he has been growing out of a lot of his three month clothes and wearing things Gus didn't wear until I had gone back to work.  So suffice it to say, he is growing.

Smiles are imminent, I just know it.  I swear he is just doing that happy face thing right now, where he makes eye contact coos a little bit, and it looks like he's about to smile at you but he just doesn't quite seem to manage going all the way.  I did catch a few smiles at the wall the other day, but I'm not calling it until he's looking an actual human being in the eyes.  

Breastfeeding is going well, but I seem to have a bit of an oversupply, or overactive letdown, something like that because we've been dealing with a lot of choking and screaming and frantic gulping.  It has been stressing me out, and I finally decided to start pumping in the morning, which seems to help.  I get about six to eight ounces every morning, so it's nice to slowly start building up a freezer stash.  I also try to recline a bit while I'm nursing which in my head seems like a logical way to slow down the force of my letdown, help him breath a little between gulps, I don't know.  But it's been hard to know what the issue really was, since we also had thrush which could have been what was bothering him.  Ugh, breastfeeding really does play tricks with your mind.  I'm constantly second guessing things, worrying about pumping too much, or not enough.  Worrying that the little guy is screaming at the boob because he still has thrush, even though we think it's gone.  Worrying that he's not drinking enough milk, even though the child is growing like a weed and that is a completely ridiculous fear at this point.  And really, the screaming usually happens in the evening when he gets super overtired and is likely not even hungry at all, just being force-fed by his psycho mother. 

What was that I said about being more confident about caring for an infant this time?  Ha!

This has been all over the place, and it probably doesn't help matters that it took me three days to write it, but oh well.  That is how my life is right now.  And life is pretty good, difficult some days for sure, (last Tuesday I woke up whining that I just didn't feel like mothering that day, like I had any choice), but good. We're all four of us figuring things out.

Three weeks with Two Kids

 Goodness, I don't even know where to begin.

It's been three weeks and three days since we met Louie for the first time.

Three weeks and three days since our world was completely shaken up and any semblance of our "normal" was all blown to hell.

Three weeks and three days since we rocked Gus's world by bringing into it a baby brother with whom he has to compete for attention.

It certainly hasn't been easy, but honestly it's been really good.  I've really loved getting to know this little baby boy of ours.  He is a dream, seriously, and so far (knocks on wood) seems to be super laid back and chill, the exact opposite of his big brother.  He sleeps for really long stretches throughout the day in his bassinet or crib, nurses efficiently and quickly, and barely cries.  When he's tired, he goes to sleep (what a concept!) and sometimes even puts himself to sleep without being nursed or rocked or bounced.  I know he's only three weeks and we have yet to reach that peak "fussiness" stage, but so far, like I said, he is a dream. 

Also, I have to say I'm really enjoying doing this baby thing a second time around with a completely different perspective, one of an experienced mother with confidence in how to care for an infant.  I feel like I'm so much better at picking up on Louie's cues, understanding what he wants without panicking or giving him the boob immediately.  I'm less afraid of crying, if that makes any sense.  Of course I'm not going to take my sweet time when the child is upset, but I'm just a little more in tune with the fact that his cries are how he's communicating with me, not to mention that sometimes I can't drop whatever I'm doing to immediately "fix" whatever is wrong.  Sometimes I'm making Gus lunch, or 30 seconds away from finishing loading the dishwasher or doing some other household task that I have been trying to find time for all morning.  

So to recap: the baby? - so far easy peasy my friends.  The toddler who has had to make room in his life for a little brother?  Well, he's been a bit more of a challenge.

Gus really does not like to share his mother.

The first week was very hard for him, dealing with such a change, such a shift in his routine.  He had spent a few days at my parents house while we were at the hospital, with probably threw him off a bit, and then we were all home together the whole next week, barely leaving the house, hosting a ton of visitors who were all bearing gifts and sweets.  The second week was a lot better, as I, myself, seemed to be getting better at managing, Dan went back to work, Gus began to adapt, and Louie seemed to start to really get used to being outside of the belly.  The third week... yeah my dear first born became a lot more challenging again.  The whining and screaming seemed to amp up considerably.  Everything became such a production, so full of drama.  He was very demanding and emotional.  And of course, every time I dared to nurse or even hold the baby, Gus would start to sob and scream for his daddy or grandma or whomever was near to hold Louie.  When no one else is around, he would just scream at the top of his lungs. 

I've tried to handle these outbursts the same way every time, I tell Gus that I have to finish feeding the baby, but I would love to have him sit with me.  I offer to read him a book, I let him drink his milk and twirl my hair while snuggling next to Louie and I.  Then when I'm finished, if I'm able to, I put the baby down or give him to someone else and have some one-on-one time with Gus.

I have to be honest, it's not easy.  Sometimes I'm just SO FRUSTRATED with his antics and I lose my patience.  Not to mention the fact that I'm nursing a newborn every one to three hours of my life right now, so already I feel a little bit claustrophobic, like my body is not my own and I have very little space.  So you throw on top of that a toddler hanging on me constantly... yeah, not easy.

But I am trying to stay the course, and remember how huge this all is for Gus, how stressful it would be to have your whole life turned upside down and not really understand why.  As we're almost half way through week four, it seems like he's getting better again, almost as if he's starting to realize that Louie isn't going anywhere, that this is his new life, and that it's not all that bad.  It helps that we're getting out of the house much more, and I really focus each day on doing something different, finding some way to give Gus a change of scenery. 

I want to stress that Gus hasn't really been aggressive with Louie at all, he's quite sweet actually.  He gives him kisses, talks about him, and seems really interested when we change the baby's diaper or lay him on the bed and talk to him.  I think he truly would be entirely into the idea of having a little brother if the little guy didn't steal so much of his mama's time.  :)

We're taking it day by day, and that seems to be the only way to really do it.  And I'm happy to say that I'm having fun.  While I don't really technically have any stay at home mom friends, we're finding creative ways to get out of the house and help Gus burn off some of his energy, despite the fact that it's the middle of winter.  My mom is off work Mondays and Wednesdays and she is almost always game for some sort of field trip.  She has even taken Gus for the afternoon a few times, and given me a chance to get things done at home or just snuggle my baby while watching TV for a few hours, reminding me a little of my maternity leave two years ago.  The local community center has this fun toddler open gym thing every Wednesday, which is awesome.  My mother-in-law is home with her kids and she's very nice to let me and the boys come and hang out for the day.  Today that meant Gus got to go outside and play in the snow with Tim and Julia, which he was so excited about.  I've also had some great friends come by a few times over the last few weeks to socialize and snuggle the baby. 

I'm starting to get better at getting out of the house with both boys, we're all finding a rhythm.  I don't dare take them anywhere in public by myself yet though, (I literally just do not have enough hands for that), but it's temporary.  I try to remind myself of that.  Temporary.  It will be easier some day.   

Oh scratch that, I DID go to the grocery store by myself with both of them last Friday.  Awesome, right?!  We had met my brother at a McDonald's Playland for lunch, and on the way home I decided to just go for it.  The baby was asleep in his car seat, and I needed a few things for a potluck the next day.  Plus, we were already out of the house, and that is really half the battle.  And it went fine.  Gus was strapped into the cart, unable to run, and Louie slept the whole time, until the drive home of course when he decided to scream the whole way, but oh well.  It was mostly a success, and I felt like I accomplished something, however small, which felt amazing.     

All in all, it's been a good three weeks and three days.  Some days I have felt like I have my shit together, and on others I have definitely felt like we were all hanging on by a thread.  But that is totally life with small children, right?  I'm relieved that I haven't been completely thrown for a loop by all of it, and I think it was important that I expected it to be really hard.  I've even found some things to go smoother than I had expected.  Low expectations... that's the key I guess.  ;)  Kidding.  But seriously.  

A few pictures of our new... "normal".

        

Louie's Birth Story

December 31st, 2011

Well, I have to say I really truly never ever expected to have this baby before my due date of January 10th.  The possibility was always in the back of my mind of course, haunting me really, giving me nightmares.  I was so consumed with Christmas for all of December, I just convinced myself that I would have time after the holidays to check off the million and one things on my baby to-do list.

Ahhh crap, that is just how it goes right?  Oh well, honestly the fact that we de-Christmased the house on Friday, took down our tree and got our home partially back into some semblance of order was huge for my sanity.  I can't even imagine what it would have been like to come home from the hospital to a dying Christmas tree and holiday clutter on top of everything else (freaking mouse!).  So there's that.   

On the docket for the next day, of course, was to finish organizing the boys' rooms upstairs.  But that would have to wait, because our baby and my uterus had other plans.   

Gus woke up, per usual, sometime around 3:00 AM early in the morning of New Year's Eve, so Dan went up to help him fall back asleep and, per usual, fell asleep himself for a few hours.  Around 4:00 AM I started waking up every ten minutes to go to the bathroom.  I would wake up, look at the clock, and be pissed off that it had been just ten minutes since I had last gotten up.  I'd haul my beastly body to the bathroom, not actually "go" once I was in there, then crawl back in bed and fall asleep only to do it all over again ten minutes later.  This went on until 6:00 AM when I finally realized that I was actually having contractions and that was the reason I was waking up every ten minutes.  At this point Dan was back in bed so I told him what was going on, and said I was getting up to play around on the computer because I was too uncomfortable to stay in bed anymore.  He didn't really believe me when I said I was having contractions, and went back to sleep.

Thirty minutes later, on the couch blogging and uploading pictures, I started to notice that the contractions were really starting to get annoying, and a lot closer together.  I went to the bathroom again and saw that I had a little bloody show, and new that meant it was game time.  Whoa.  My first thought... we're going to have this baby in 2011?  Seriously?

So I told Dan he really seriously needed to get up, and that I was going to get in the shower and shave my legs, because I was in labor.  For real.  I told him to call the midwife, let her know this was happening today, then call my dad so he was prepared to come over and get Gus at some point.

I talked to the midwife around 7:30 or so, after I had showered, gotten dressed, and eaten a bagel.  She said it sounded like things were progressing just as they should, and asked when I would like her to call again, to check on how I was feeling.  We thought an hour, sure, it's as good an estimate as anything.  Contractions were still totally manageable, but happening about every 4-5 minutes and lasting for about 30 seconds.  Before we hung up she told me that I should try to eat some protein, so I promised I'd have Dan make me some eggs.  I went about finishing getting ready and timing my contractions with my phone while Dan pulled all the bags together, including an overnight for Gus, and got the car loaded.

By 8:15 my contractions were getting much more intense, I had to really focus on my breathing and do some rocking to get through them.  I wandered the house in between, but with each one I could feel them getting stronger, then after trying to eat the eggs Dan made for me I felt really nauseous, and all of a sudden I was like, NO.  We have to get going.  This is totally happening soon, and though I was terrified of laboring in the car and not being able to move around, I was more terrified of waiting too long and having our baby at home, by ourselves.

So Dan called the midwife, we didn't make it that hour, which she said didn't really surprise her.  Then he called my dad and told him to come over for Gus.  Amazingly, that child was still sleeping, and never even woke up before we left for the hospital.  So awesome, I am so thankful for how all of that went, because my biggest worry/stress throughout my pregnancy when I thought about going into labor was what would happen with him.  (It has been ALL about Gus for 2 years really, right?  So why would it be any different here?)

We left in a hurry, I barely said anything to my dad because I was in total CRAZY-EYED FOCUS mode.  I climbed in the back seat of the car and got through each contraction by hanging over the back seat and moaning some strange rhythmic chant while staring at a box of cheez-its that I had packed in our hospital bag.  Random for sure.

At about a quarter to 9:00, we pulled up to the emergency room entrance at the hospital, because this time around we had decided that we would not be parking in the ramp and wandering all over the hospital causing a scene.  Dan found a nurse that was just starting her shift to walk with me while he moved the car.  I was moving pretty slowly so we didn't make it that far before he was at my side again.  We got up to the 6th floor and headed to the assessment room.  This is where there was some confusion. 

So my midwives had basically just gotten rights at this hospital, after a political fall-out from the hospital I delivered Gus at, and I actually ended up being the first woman from their practice to deliver at this new hospital.  Needless to say, transitions like this are usually rocky.  Even though I had pre-registered, with my midwife's name, they didn't seem to understand who my care provider was.  In fact, once she showed up, just a few minutes after us, they seemed to have made the assumption that we were a home-birth-gone-wrong couple coming into the hospital with our midwife in tow.  I don't really understand what was all happening, but I was being told by some random nurse to lay down so she could check me, then my midwife was arguing that, uh, no thanks, she was my care provider and she could check me.  The admitting nurse was being super passive aggressive and patronizing, and my midwife was being her no-nonsense "I don't have time for this b.s." self.  They were arguing right there in front of Dan and me, the admitting nurse saying, "I need to check her and assess if she is in labor", and my midwife responding, "If she's in labor?  Are you kidding me? I can tell you she's probably about 9 cm without even having to check," and finally I think my midwife told her that if they were going to discuss this any further they would need to go outside the room away from the patient because this was all very unprofessional.

Dan later said he was seconds away from telling them to please figure this crap out somewhere that doesn't involve us.  Since, you know, we were busy having a baby.

Whatever.  I don't know what transpired, but they came back pretending to be BFFs and had everything worked out, the nursing staff had truly had no idea who she was, because with the craziness of the holidays at the hospital, she hadn't been able to meet the nurses or get her badge or any of that.  Anyway, I was checked and found to be fully dilated minus a tiny lip of cervix, and at 0 station.  

Yes, I was in active labor, well into it in fact.  Totally new information!

We got to the delivery room and it is all truly a blurrrrrrrrr.  They were trying to put all these straps and things on me to monitor the baby, asking me to get on the bed and lie down, and I kept trying to, but then another contraction would come on and I just couldn't do it.  My midwife just rubbed my shoulders and whispered in my ear how great we were doing and that I should do what my body was telling me to do, if I felt the urge to push, push.  If I didn't want to lie down, then I didn't have to lie down.  She had this amazing ability to take me out of the room and help me shut out all the annoying things that were going on around me.  Dan was doing a great job of rubbing my lower back, which near the end was starting to just kill during contractions.  When I was finally able to get on the bed, my midwife encouraged me to get in a kneeling/squatting position and hang over the back.  We tried that, I pushed a little, didn't love it, but my water did brake in the middle of one of my pushes.

I had to tell them it broke because I don't think people were really paying attention to whether or not my skirt was suddenly soaking wet.  Then everyone was trying to help take off my nasty wet skirt and I think it was either my midwife or Dan who suggested maybe I'd rather lay down and push the "traditional" way.  I know I heard Dan tell her that that was how I delivered Gus and I seemed to like pushing that way (like being the totally wrong word here).

And that's what I did.  I don't know how long I really pushed, but I can't imagine it was more than like 5 minutes.  It really did all go so fast, though during I just wanted it to be over so badly.  My instincts were just to push one huge monster push and blow that thing out, but my midwife kept telling me to hold back, she would say, "Ok push... good good, you're doing such a great job!  Now take a breath.  Push... good good!  Now take a breath."  She encouraged me to go really slow so as not to tear, and I followed her lead, but was sort of pissed off about it, because taking that breath mid little pushes was just pure, ring of fire, torture.

That's really over-dramatic, I know, but in the moment... goodness, I hated her with all her, "Take a breath!" crap.  Amazing though, because it worked, I didn't tear at all, and my recovery, if you can even call it that, was so quick.

At 9:39 AM, on December 31, 2011, Dan helped catch our little (or not so much little at 9 lb, 1 oz) Louie.  They placed him on my chest and I was just so elated, and so proud of this little guy, and yes, I admit it, SO HAPPY it was over.  It was such a surreal experience, never in a million years did I think I would wake up that day and have a baby.  Everyone else we called and texted to let them know he was here were just as shocked.  Like Dan's mom, we could have just as easily been calling to talk to her about what to buy our niece for her birthday, which we were celebrating the next day.  It was just such a wonderful, unexpected surprise.  And with that, we were officially a family of four... parents of two sons.