The Tenacity of Toddlers

First of all, for those who follow (and I mean that in the loosest sense of the word, since it has been almost a year from the last post) Cy's blog, I've decided to go ahead and start posting over there again.  We'll see how long it lasts. It is private, so if you want an invite, or need a new invite, just send me an email or reply to this post, and I'll hook you up.

Now, on to my post.  This evening before dinner, Cyrus and I were building towers with his Mega Blocks.  He's just started to figure out how they work, but likes to stick to stacking those blocks that are similar: for example, only blocks with four pegs, or only blocks with one peg.  The one peg blocks seem to be his favorite, as there are many, many of them, and he can make a really tall tower.  Here is how the tower building went tonight:

Tower #1.  I had to balance it very carefully to get this picture. 

Oh!  And it's down!  Cy was just getting ready to place this stack of blocks on top of the tower when it collapsed.

No matter.  We'll just start over again.

Cy's particular tower-building strategy includes placing several blocks together and then placing that section onto the tower.

Just. A few. More. Blocks! Seconds later, the tower came tumbling to the ground, much to the glee of one little boy.  

This process was repeated several times over, until it was time for dinner.  I love it!

I Didn't Know It Started So Early...

This is Cyrus, reading the paper with his Papa. I'm not sure if you can tell, but he is "reading" the sports page.  It's the only section of the paper in which he shows any interest.  Not only that, but he actually requests it!  If he sees the paper on the table, he approaches the nearest adult, asks "up", and then insists "ball, ball, ball" until that adult finds the sports page and flips through it.

He seems to have a major obsession with all things sports.  He sits and watches football or basketball for 15-20 minutes at a time, and gets cranky when the commercials interrupt the game.  Sometimes, he actually grabs the remote, points it at the TV, and then says "ball, ball, ball".

Is this normal?  How does he already have such a strong, and specific, love for sports?  Is this some weird innate boy thing?  My streak of feminism has a hard time believing this, so perhaps it's just specific to Cyrus?  Have any of your kids shown an early affinity for a particular subject or activity?  Did it last as they got older?  I have a feeling that  I'm in for weekends filled with sports, either on the field or on TV for the next two decades or so.

Flashback Friday disclaimer:  All of my flashback worthy photos are in Phoenix.  I had a great idea for a flashback, but didn't want to post it without pictures, and Jason was too tired to send them to me.  Admittedly, I am also too tired to write a lengthy, well thought out post, so maybe tomorrow will be Flashback Saturday...or something.

Who needs Toys R Us?

Cyrus has discovered an assortment of favorite "toys" from around the house.  It doesn't matter that he has a whole basket of toys - these items are way more fun!

 My mom has all these plastic bins for storing ribbon and other sundry craft items.  Cy's favorite activity is to open the containers, take out all the ribbon, unravel it and spread it all over the floor.  When he can't do that, he is content to simply take the containers off the shelves, stack them, carry them around, and then put them back, only to repeat again.  

What is more fun than taking things out of a draw and strewing them about the floor?  Apparently, nothing.  The snack sized ziplocs seem to be his favorite.  I rarely actually allow him to take the boxes out of the drawer and then the baggies out of the boxes.  Cy knows this, so often he runs over and opens the drawer, pulls out one or two baggies, then makes a run for it, giggling all the way.

No, I don't let my child play with oven.  That would be dangerous.  When no one is looking, he pulls this knob off of the oven and runs away with it, hiding it in some obscure location.  I guess it's like hide and seek...

Ok, this one I kind of get, and I guess it is a toy of sorts.  It might be the ugliest thing I've ever seen, and it sings this goofy song about the "Cupid Shuffle"  while shuffling all over the place. (I probably just exposed my total and complete lack of coolness, as I think this might be a real song).  Cy figured out how to push the button to make him sing, so we get to hear this about 50 times a day.  Sometimes Cy lets him dance, but sometimes he gets so excited that he picks him up and carries him around while he sings.  

What odd things do your kids find entertaining?  

I'll be accepting my award next week...

...for mother of the year.

This beauty happened this afternoon while I was apartment hunting (online).  He ran for the dog bed (one of his favorite places to hang out), slipped, and ran into the heat register.

This happened about three weeks ago while I was working in the garage.  He was playing on the cement step outside of the garage.  I heard him whimper, but he never cried.  Then 20 minutes later, my mom exclaimed "What happened to his head?!?"  This is what it looked like three days later.

My mom keeps chalking it up to "boys will be boys"...but perhaps it's just "kids will be kids"?

My Beef with Children's Clothing Manufacturers

I'm sure that this will come as no surprise to parents of boys, but there is some serious inequality in the availability of clothing for baby boys versus baby girls (and I expect that this trend continues somewhat as children get older).  Go into any baby department in any store, and you'll notice pretty quickly that the girl's section is about three times as large as the boy's section.  I'll be honest - most of the time, I kind of like this disparity.  For one, I'm a terrible decision maker, so having limited choices is really better for me.  For another, baby/toddler girl clothes are kind of hard to resist - even Jason can't contain his oohs and awes when we happen to wander into the girl's section.  If I had a little girl, I'd be way too tempted to spend money on things we don't really need.

However. There are times when limited choices are a major challenge.  The difference in availability of clothes seems to be even more pronounced when it comes to dressy outfits.  And herein lies the heart of my beef with clothing manufacturers.  It would seem that, unless it is Christmas or Easter, baby boys only want, no, only need,  to wear play clothes or clothes that make them look like tiny versions of some very hip male adult (who is most likely, not a father).  They do not ever need to attend weddings, funerals, or even church.  Unless of course their parents want to spend half a paycheck at some high end children's clothing store.

Not So Roseola!

Yeah, let's not talk about how long it has been since my last post...I have a newsflash - motherhood is hard!  (Wait, this isn't news? huh...)  Motherhood is hard even when you have a really easy baby.  And let me just say that, thus far, Cyrus is a really easy baby.  He smiles most of the time, rarely cries (except during middle of the night diaper changes) fusses for very brief moments when I take away something he wants, naps for about 4 hours a day, and only wakes up once a night.  ( I realize, by the way, that I am tempting fate here - don't worry, I'm fully prepared for him to turn into a heathen at any moment.  For now I will enjoy what I have!)

Although I kind of knew that he was a pretty good baby, I don't think I fully appreciated just how good I had it until I got a taste - albeit a very small one - of what he could be like.  Cy started last week with a really high fever - it was 104.4 at the highest.  I took him to urgent care on Monday and they told me that, besides the high fever, he seemed to be in pretty good health.  Apparently, they don't really worry about the fever unless it stays there for 12 hours without ever going down, goes up to 105, or shows some other symptom.  The doctor did mention, however, that he could be getting Roseola, which basically starts with a high fever for about three days, then presents an all-body rash once the fever breaks.  Those are the only two symptoms, according to the doctor.  (Remember this, this is important).

While Cy had the fever, he slept even better than normal.  On Monday night, he slept 11 hours straight, a record.  He took 2 2.5 hour naps on Monday and Tuesday.  Then Tuesday night he started waking up every 3 hours or so.  By Wednesday morning, his fever had just about broken, and only reach about 101.  There was no rash, so I figured we were in the clear.  He didn't nap particularly well on Wednesday, but I didn't think that was too big of a deal.

Then Wednesday night, he woke up every two hours.  On Thursday, the rash showed up, along with a different baby.  My previously easy-going, smiley, happy baby had turned into Mr. Sensitive Cranky-pants.  He cried at the drop of a hat.  Every time I laid him down to change his diaper or put on clothes, it was like the world was ending.  If he toppled over and bumped his head (which he does about 30 times a day) he screamed like someone cut off his finger.  If I left him for more than 30 seconds, I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood could hear him. You get the idea. He also went from taking 2 2-hour naps to taking 1-2 1 hour naps.  Yeah.  This was not just "Oh, Cy is having a bad day".  This was full-on fussiness.  (Which, by the way, does not seem to adequetately describe what was going on, but that seems to be the official term for it...it just doesn't quite cut it for me).

If I thought that was bad, however, I was really in for it Thursday night.  Not only did he wake up every two hours, but he woke up angry. Inconsolable, red in the face, full lungs angry!  Nursing only worked half the time.  He was awake for about 2 hours from 3am to 5am, and would start crying for no apparent reason every 2 minutes or so, then calm down, then repeat.  By the way, this NEVER happens.  Once he's down for the night, he wakes up to nurse, then immediately goes back to sleep.  He didn't even really do this was he was a newborn.  I was beginning to see why some people only have one baby...

So I did a little digging on the good old internet, and found several sources that listed some additional symptoms of Roseola - one of them being high irritability and fussiness.  Bingo.  Some other symptoms were poor appetite, a minor cough, and minor diarrhea - all of which Cy had, but had been overshadowed by the fussiness.  (Have I mentioned yet how fussy he was?)

So I called the doctor back because, although the internet properly diagnosed his symptoms, the doctor had failed to mention these things, and I wanted some assurance that Cy hadn't come down with some other awful illness.  They had me come in Friday afternoon, and basically confirmed that he had Roseola.  However, the doctor still seemed perplexed by the other symptoms and gave no real explanation.  Whatever.  This is a case where I think I believe the internet over my doctor.  I was just glad there was nothing else going on.

Fortunately, Cy's fussiness is gone, he is back to waking only once a night, and taking blissfully long naps.  And I am thanking God, the Universe, fate, and anyone else who might be involved, for giving me this sweet, easy baby.  I do know that Cy could turn into that other baby again at some point, and for real this time, with no weird illness to blame.  I also know that Baby #2 (or #3 or #4) could be that fussy baby full time, and I am fine with that.  I think...

On Matters of Sharing our Religion

This is a post that has been clanging around in my head for quite some time, but was brought to the fore again this past weekend when we had Cyrus blessed at my church.  For those of you who are unaware, I converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (commonly known as the Mormon church) about three and a half years ago.  Jason did not join the church.  I may someday post my conversion story, but not now.

So, in our church, new babies are given a blessing and their names are recorded on church records.  It is kind of a similar process to a Christening, I think.  Anyway, Jason, being the supportive husband and father that he is, agreed to have Cy blessed.  The blessing was performed by a good family friend of ours.  We also decided to invite several of our family members, none of whom belong to the church.  In the end, we had Jason's dad, grandma, sister and her husband, one uncle and a cousin and my sister.

This was a nerve-wracking process for me, and I'll tell you why.  First of all, I think most people will probably agree that discussing religion can be kind of awkward - many people avoid it all together.  It becomes even more difficult if your religion is of the somewhat controversial variety - as Mormonism tends to be.  However, for most members of the church, their religion is such a significant factor in how they live their lives that is hard to avoid at least mentioning it.  And, since many people grow up in the religion, I think that being Mormon becomes a known fact and is not so difficult for people to talk about (if you are of this group, feel free to disagree with me if I am wrong).

For me, I not only did not grow up as a Mormon, but I went through a several-year period where I was vehemently against all organized religion (call it my rebellious college stage).  I not only did not want to belong to an organized religion, especially not one as regimented as Mormonism, but I held a pretty negative view of those who did.  The more "religious" the religion, the more negative my view.  I'm not proud of this judgemental stage in my life, but there it is.

So you can imagine that, when I converted to the church, family and friends who had known me for a long time were quite surprised and even shocked.  Some were down right confused.  And because of this, I have found it pretty difficult to discuss my religion openly with people I know - whether new friends or old, but especially old.  Over the past few years, I have reconnected with a few friends from college - remember, my rebellious, anti-religion days - and when it came out that I had joined the Mormon church, I was met with open-mouthed shock and some definite stammering.

Anyway, back to Sunday.  I was nervous about having so many members of Jason's family there.  I knew that everyone knew I was Mormon, but no one really talked about it.  And I didn't know what their views of the church or of me being a part of it were, either.  Add to that the stress that is was Fast and Testimony meeting.  For those who don't know, the first Sunday of the month is typically Fast Sunday, where members fast for two meals.  Then during Sacrament, instead of hearing talks, the time is opened up for members to share their testimonies - a kind of open-mic for the religious (I hope that's not blasphemous...)  Anyway, you kind of never know what you're going to get on Fast Sunday.  Sometimes people share really relevant stories and testimonies...other times, not so much.  Plus, the more people you have talking, the higher chance someone will say something that could offend a non-member.  My anxiety also came from whether or not I would bear my testimony.  On the one hand, I wanted to share my testimony because it was a really special day for our family; on the other hand, for someone who doesn't talk about her religion openly to people who aren't of her faith, sharing my testimony in front of so many family members was down-right terrifying.

In the end, I did share my testimony, and I'm glad I did.  I'm also glad that so many family members wanted to share in this day, even if it was as part of a religion that they may or may not agree with.  No one made any rude comments or remarks (not that I really expected them to) and there were some really good questions after the sacrament meeting about things like the process of the blessing, the meaning of the sacrament, and why we bear testimonies.

Have I totally gotten over my fear of sharing my beliefs? Definitely not.  However, I'm hoping that this experience will help me open up a little bit more and not be so worried about how other people will respond.  After all, my beliefs are a really big part of who I am and how I live.

Jason, Cyrus and I with our friend Bill (who performed the blessing)

Praise for ... a Bathroom?

Earlier this week, Jason and I managed to secure a scholarship for an annual membership to the Southwest Community Center, part of the Portland Parks and Rec network.  I did water aerobics there for the three months or so of my pregnancy and was really impressed with the facility.  When Jason and I decided it was time to really commit to a healthy lifestyle, but also knew that we couldn't afford a gym membership, we were thrilled to discover that the community center gave scholarships.  We applied, and were approved, and just in the past week Jason has attended four times (twice on one day!)

Now, Jason was excited for his workouts, but was even more excited when he realized that we could take Cy to Family Swim. Bathtime is one of the best times of our day, and it just seemed a natural progression to get Cy in a pool.  In fact, Jason has been planning for and talking about  "the big event" all week.  He even had me drive across town to buy a pair of reusable swim diapers so that the three of us could take advantage of the family swim today!

After a few hiccups in our plan (including a baby who not only slept in until 9am, but then took an unprecedented 3 hour nap at 11 - why does this only happen on days when I plan for his "regular" nap schedule?)...where was I? Oh yeah, so once we finally got ourselves out the door, we realized that getting the three of us changed and into, and back out of, the pool was going to take some maneuvering.  We had some elaborate plans worked out until I remembered that I had seen family changing rooms at the community center. I had never been inside them before, though, so I wasn't sure how helpful they would be.  I pictured maybe just a basic bathroom with a changing table, and figured we would still have to go shower in the main locker rooms.

Let me just say, of all the things that have impressed me about this community center (and there are a lot), the family changing rooms may just top the list!  Each room has a sink and a toilet, a changing table, a long bench and - get this - a shower!  And the room itself is huge - plenty of room for several children.  It was easy, then, for both Jason and I to take Cy into the changing room together, allowing us to trade off holding him and dressing him while we got ourselves dressed.  It made the whole process so much easier and more enjoyable than it could have been.  Plus, there are a total of four family changing rooms!

I had also been thinking about signing Cy and me up for Parent/child swim classes in January, but was concerned about the whole changing/drying off process, especially since I would be by myself.  Seeing the family changing rooms has eased my worries and now I'm even more excited about the prospect.

I have to know - is this whole family changing room thing common?  Am I just a newbie mom who didn't realize how accomodating some places would be?  Because in my limited experience, most places seem the opposite  of accommodating.  Sometimes I almost feel bad for having a baby in tow.  In fact, I've been surprised by the number of places that have zero space to change babies - and don't get me started on the lack of changing tables in men's restrooms! And yet, whoever designed the community center really thought ahead to the needs of families, and made the swimming experience completely accessible, and, dare I say, easy.  I was already impressed - now I'm downright in love!   (On a related note, Washington Square does have its own extraordinary family restroom, complete with a miniature toilet right next to the big person's toilet.  I don't think I've ever thought of a toilet as cute until I saw that one.  It makes me excited for the day Cy can use a toilet, and I think we may go to the mall just so we can use that one!)

So, needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), we will be frequenting the family swim time and most definitely taking full advantage of these fantastic changing rooms!

...And We're Back!

Well, I really did think that I would maintain a little more momentum after finishing NaBloPoMo, but then we went to Kansas for a wedding...which is actually one of the main reasons why I did NaBloPoMo in October instead of November.  So, we have returned from our week away, and as entry back into the blogging world, I thought I would share a few little tidbits I discovered while in Kansas:

1.  I love weddings.  I don't know if it's going to more weddings or simply getting older, but each wedding I attend (particularly those for people to whom I am close) I get more emotional than I did at the previous wedding.  Maybe weddings remind me of my own wedding, or maybe I just love the whole sentiment.  This wedding was a little bitter-sweet, as it was the last of the Wells siblings' weddings.  There are no weddings looming in our future and this makes me sad.  However, Jason's sister Kelly looked beautiful and the wedding was quite the party!

The happy couple and their wedding party.

2.  I play a (very distant) second fiddle to my child.  On several occasions, various family members, on seeing us for the first time on this trip, ran excitedly toward us and exuberantly greeted Cy.  Then, only after smiling and cooing at him, they noticed either me or Jason and then said hi, generally as an after-thought.  I would be offended except that this happened so often that I must simply take it as a compliment that we made a baby too cute for our own good.

3.  Babies are cute and welcome almost everywhere.  A wedding party-bus (or trolley, in this case) is not one of them...Yes, this was a little lapse in judgment on Jason's and my part.  Jason was in the wedding party, and after the ceremony, the wedding party boarded the trolley/party bus to go take some more pictures around Kansas city before the reception.  At the last minute, myself and a few other spouses were invited on.  Without thinking, Jason and I agreed and Cy and I boarded the trolley...Of course, babies need to eat, and they don't often want to wait for the 1.5 hour party-bus ride to do so. However, a bunch of unmarried young folks don't necessarily want to see a baby nursed on their party bus.  Nor do they want to hear said baby screaming at the top of his lungs when he has to wait to eat.  Add to that the beer bong and bawdy drinking songs, and well, I think I just earned the "worst-parent-of-the-year" award...

Cyrus melting...

Yes, that is a beer bong.  Don't ask me, I'm not nearly cool enough to get it!

4.  Snoring is almost never cute. Unless it is a baby doing the snoring.  Then it is extremely cute.  And must be recorded.  And shared with everyone we see the following day.  I would share this video with you, except that I  can't figure out how to upload a video with the new editor, so I guess we will save that for another day.  If you do know how, please share!

5.  Due to aforementioned cold, I now realize that my child is never allowed to have anything worse than a low fever and mild congestion.  This very minor illness ripped my heart out and brought tears to my eyes.  Anything even remotely more severe will likely kill me.

6.  A sick and slightly cranky baby is not the best traveling companion.  Unless you are flying a nearly full Southwest flight and wish to have an empty seat in your row.  Then, a cranky, sick baby may be just the ticket.

A Costume Conundrum

As a kid, I loved Halloween. I looked forward to trick or treating and I planned my costume months in advance. Fortunately, my mom is an extremely creative woman and a talented seamstress, and she always willingly (or at least, that's how I remember it) spent hours creating whatever costume I came up with - a court jester, a senorita, a spider, etc. But I think some time in high school I stopped dressing up and I stopped looking forward to Halloween. It's become a kind of non-holiday for me. I'm honestly kind of envious of those people who still love dressing up and who still put tons of effort into coming up with and executing creative costume ideas, but I'm just not one of those people. And I've pretty much been fine with it, until now. Because now I have a child.

I hadn't really thought about it until recently, but I've decided that I want to be one of those parents who participates enthusiastically in things, and doesn't just watch from the sidelines. And this includes the spectacle of dressing up for Halloween.

I realize that my child is very young, too young in fact to understand or care about Halloween, and certainly too young to know whether or not his mom is enthusiastically participating in the festivities. But this year seems like a good year to start participating because, one, there will be pictures, and two, Jason and I are attending a few Halloween shindigs where costumes are strongly encouraged. So what the heck.

However, there is a very good reason why I haven't participated in Halloween costuming for the last several years. Somewhere along the way, I've lost my sense of creativity when it comes to those kinds of things. I just can't seem to come up with an interesting, creative costume for myself that can be made (as I believe the best costumes are) and that I haven't already seen a million times. So now I'm caught in the perfectionist's web: Do I let my desire to participate in Halloween outweigh my desire to have a unique, creative costume, or do I simply throw my hands up that I can't come up with the latter, and therefore forgo it all together?

Now, you might ask if this whole thing applies to Cyrus's costume too, since after all, he is too young to choose his own costume, which means I must do it for him. Fortunately, I've been let off the hook this year, as one of his many grandmothers found and purchased an extremely cute monkey costume for him. So he is set. But, this creates another whole dilemma - that of whether or not to try to coordinate my costume with his. And, on top of all of it, as you may all realize, Halloween is just a few short days away, which means that whatever I decide had better happen quickly or else I'll have no time to pull it off.

What's your opinion? Do you dress up for Halloween? Do you try to coordinate your costume with your child's? Do you go store-bought or handmade, and how much time and effort do you put in?

More Thoughts on Plane Travel

Cy and I flew home from Denver today, and I can't help feeling just a little proud of myself for having completed a round-trip flight with him by myself. Aside from the occasional rude passenger on the way there, and an unexplained 10 minute screaming fit as we boarded the plane on the way home, I actually feel that the whole experience went pretty well. I can admit now, I was kind of terrified that I would explode with anxiety over the whole thing. I had visions of 2.5 hours of a screaming child, a seat-mate who overflowed into my seat, rude comments about breastfeeding, unsympathetic airline workers, etc. I think a few things helped:

1. I used a carrier with Cy and just checked our carseat and stroller at the ticket counter. I know that you can gate-check those items, but our stroller situation is really just a snap-in frame for our carseat. I realized pretty quickly that at security I would have to remove Cy, take the carseat off of the frame, fold up the frame and put both through the x-ray machine, and then do the whole thing in reverse, all while holding Cyrus. This just didn't seem practical to me. By using the carrier, I was hands free and the security part was essentially seamless. Also, the carrier worked great when Cy fell asleep during the flight and I wanted my hands for drinking, or eating, or doing a Su Doku puzzle.

2. Breastfeeding. I toyed with just bringing expressed breast milk in bottles for the flight, thinking it would be easier, but I'm glad I didn't. Cyrus doesn't just nurse for food, he nurses for comfort. I was able to to nurse him when he got cranky, and basically just put him to sleep. I think this made the whole thing more enjoyable for both of us. Plus, it was a lot easier than I thought it would be to nurse him on the plane. He is still small enough, I supposed, that he doesn't really encroach on the seat next to ours.

3. I took advantage of pre-boarding. I know this seems like a no-brainer, but I saw a woman with a baby get on with the rest of the cattle today, and all I could think was, Why? Having a few moments to get the necessities out of my carry on luggage and get ourselves all settled without having to worry about hoards of people coming down the aisle really helped.

4. I had an aisle seat. On both flights, I was able to easily stand up and rock Cy when he got cranky or restless. I think this made a big difference for both of us. I would have felt really trapped had I been in the middle or on the aisle.

5. Cy is only 3 months old. Yep, I think this definitely helped. He will sleep in my arms, and he has no problem just chilling in my lap. I have a feeling that things may not go so easily in a few months.

A self-portrait as we wait for our flight to Denver

And now, a few thoughts about pre-boarding:

When I pre-boarded on the flight to Denver, the couple sitting next to me also pre-boarded. Now, as Jason pointed out to me when I complained about this, I realize that they don't ask you if you plan to pre-board when you choose your seat, but I really think they should. Isn't it the point of pre-boarding that you have a few minutes to get yourself settled without feeling pressured by those around you? When that other couple showed up right after I got to my seat, I felt like I lost my opportunity to relax and get organized for a minute, because I became instantly anxious about letting them get through. Granted, they were extremely gracious, but still. I think this should be taken into consideration. Just a thought.

Today, after they called for pre-boarding, I made my way to the gate and happened to be the first one there. The woman taking boarding passes put her hand on my arm and said "Wait a minute, this woman needs extra time" and then gestured to an older woman with a cane who was standing behind me. She took her boarding pass and then took mine. Now, I have no problem with this woman going first, but I have to admit I was confused. Weren't we both there because we needed extra time? Why was her need for extra time greater than mine? Sure, she took longer to get down the gateway than I did, but I'm pretty sure it took me longer to get situated in my seat. Was she in a special pre-pre-boarding category? I just didn't get it. I don't know that I've ever seen pre-boarders be prioritized, but maybe that's just me. Can anyone offer any insight for this one?

So, there you have it. Chalk it up to another milestone, if not for Cy, than at least for me.

My Cloth Diapering Story: Part 2

All right, when I started the first part of this story, I was loving my cloth diapers.  We have been using them for about three months, and up until about a week ago, they were working so well.  I was planning to write a glowing review of not only the cloth diapering process but also of the particular cloth diaper we use.  I am still committed to cloth diapering, but my confidence in our particular product is wavering a bit - we are having some serious leaking issues with our diapers.  I contemplated holding off on this post until the issue was resolved one way or the other.  But then I decided that maybe this is just part of the cloth diapering journey, and therefore worth discussing.

So.  I’ll start with a little bit more about the product.  We use a one size pocket diaper made by Fuzzibunz.  In the previous post I discussed some of the different options and manufacturers.  Pocket diapers have a waterproof outside layer and soft fleece inside layer with an absorbent cloth insert that goes between the waterproof and fleece layers (See figure 1 below).  The One size diapers come with two terry cloth inserts - a newborn size and a regular size.   The diapers are fitted with special elastic around the leg holes and across the back.  The elastic has various button holes with little numbers next to each hole that fit buttons on the diapers.  There is a place to adjust the elastic in the front and back of each leg hole and on either side of the back of the diaper. The leg adjustments go from 1 (the loosest) to 8 (the tightest) in the both the front and the back, and the  back elastic goes from 1 to 4 on either side.  The diapers close with snaps. There are two rows of snaps so that you can adjust the tightness as needed (see figure 2 below).  As your child grows, you adjust the waistband with the back elastic and the snaps, and you adjust the leg holes with the leg elastic.  

Figure 1 - Cloth diaper and insert

Figure 2 - Snaps 

The process of using these diapers has been extremely easy. Yes, it is slightly more work than your basic disposable, but I find the work load to be minimal.  They go on very easily – no pins or folding like our parents dealt with.  It took me a few tries to get the sizing right, but once we had that figured out, they pretty much go on just like a disposable.  When we remove the diapers, we have an extra step of spraying them off before putting them in the hamper. I only spray off the poopy diapers.   Sometimes we do this right when he dirties a diaper; however, more often than not I am by myself or it’s the middle of the night, in which case we leave the diapers on the side of the changing table and spray several off at once.  It probably adds an extra 5 minutes a day at the most.  Then I shake out the insert and put them in the hamper. We also use reusable wipes, which I also throw in the hamper and wash with the cloth diapers. 

The most obvious extra work comes with the extra load of laundry.  I do a load of diapers every two to three days.  They require a cold soak and pre-wash, followed by a hot wash and a double colds rinse. Then I dry them on low.  It takes me about 20 minutes to put the inserts back in and then they are ready to go.

When we are out and about, I just take a little “dirty duds” bag with me and I used flushable liners to get rid of the bulk of the yucky stuff.  When I change his diaper, I flush the liner and then put the dirty diaper in the dirty duds bag and I’m done.  Pretty easy.

After my last post, someone asked me about the extra energy and water costs associated with using cloth diapers. I haven’t done full research on this yet but I guess it basically costs the same as doing a load of laundry, plus a little extra for the prewash and second rinse. I have a hard time believing that this is comparable to disposable in either price or environmental impact, particularly when you take into account the water and energy needed to make the disposable diapers, not to mention their space in landfills. 

All right, so now I’ll tell you about some of the issues I’ve had with the Fuzzibunz product. One of my main problems with them in general is that you can’t use diaper cream because it doesn’t wash off of the fleece and then creates repelling issues (where the water pools and leaks out instead of being absorbed into the insert).  Generally speaking, babies in cloth diapers don’t get diaper rash as often as babies in disposables.  Cyrus, however, got thrush when he was two weeks old that led to a really severe diaper rash, and he has very sensitive skin, so we often have to use diaper cream.  In these instances we use a flushable liner, which actually sometimes makes clean up easier.  However, this is not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.

Now on to the big one.  Over the past week or so, the diapers have been leaking out of the legs incessantly.  In fact, I’ve had to change Cyrus’s clothes almost as often as I’ve changed his diapers, which leads to more laundry.  This I don’t appreciate.  After looking on the Fuzzibunz website, I discovered that I could have some build-up issues.  I followed the procedure on the website to “strip” the diapers of their buildup but the leaking continued.  On further inspection I realized that the seams are leaking.  And not just on some of the diapers, but on all 24 that I purchased. I’ve switched to disposables for the time being just to avoid the hassle.

So I e-mailed Fuzzibunz and was pleasantly surprised by their response. They basically told me to send in my diapers and they would send me replacements.  Just like that, basically no questions asked.  So that’s where we are.  We shall see how well the new batch functions and I will update my Fuzzibunz review at that time.  For now, I still like the product, but I cannot recommend it. Check back to see how it goes. 


*For the update, click here. 

Blog Fever and Being Shown Up

Apparently all of this posting has boosted my blogging confidence, and I now think that I'm capable of maintaining not one, but two blogs! Yep, that's right, tease me if you will, but I've started a blog for my child - well, about him really. I decided that I like this blog being about my experiences and perspectives, but realized that some of my family and friends really just want to hear about Cy (honestly, probably just his grandparents, but still). Plus, I'm pretty crappy at scrapbooking, so this is my compromise. At the moment the blog is open, but will soon be made private. If all two of you who read this blog want to read that one too, post a comment and I'll invite you. You can check it out here but know that I've essentially posted the first post here as well.

So about a month ago at Cy's 2 month check-up, we told his doctor that Cy absolutely despises tummy time. Every time we put him on his tummy he immediately dropped his head to the ground and began the closest thing to a temper tantrum that a 2 month old is capable of - screaming, crying and flailing of limbs. We told her that he pretty much just gives up. So she decides to see how he does on his tummy. She grabbed him by the arms and put him on his tummy. Here comes the being shown up part. His arms were straight back against his sides and the first thing he does is lift his chest up, mermaid style. then, he promptly rolls off of the exam table! Fortunately, the doctor was quick and she caught him. Making liers out of us already!

Of course, we get home, and he's having none of it. He flat out refuses to roll over, and though he gives it a minute or two before the wailing begins, he's still pretty unhappy on his tummy. Fast forward to this past Saturday and we have a friend over. After explaining just how much he hates tummy time, we put Cy on his tummy, and what does he do? Rolls over! Shown up again! We tried to get him to do it again later that day and the following day, but yet again, he was having none of it.

Finally yesterday, the day he turned three months old, I put him on his tummy and - voila! He rolled over. Still not convinced it wasn't a fluke, I put him back on his tummy and again! He rolled over! Four times in total and once this morning tells me we've reached another milestone! And, just for a little shameless bragging, here's a video clip:

Finally! Cyrus's Birth Story

Seeing as how Cyrus is three months old today, I thought it would be appropriate to finally share his birth story. Before he was born, I enjoyed reading others' birth stories, and had already decided that I would post mine as well. I figured that I would get it up not more than two weeks after he was born. Well, a few things have kept me from that, not the least of which is Cyrus himself. But, if I'm really honest, part of the reason that this is such a hard story to write is that it isn't the story I wanted to be writing. Let me warn you in advance, this is a looooong post. I won't be offended if you don't read the whole thing. I tried to pare it down as much as possible, but then, my labor was long too!

Jason and I planned and prepared for a natural birth, and by that I mean unmedicated, with as few interventions as possible. At the very least, I wanted to avoid an epidural and I wanted absolutely no part of a c-section. In my preparation, I read lots of birth stories and a few books, followed a few blogs and, most of all, enrolled Jason and I in the Bradley Method of Natural Childbirth classes. There were 12 classes in total and they covered good nutrition and exercise, information on various forms of intervention and how best to avoid them, relaxation exercises, and strategies for our labor coaches - our husbands. We tried to go with a midwife at a Birthing Center, but it wasn't covered by insurance and we couldn't afford to pay out of pocket. We ended up with a midwife practice through Kaiser. And, even after all of our planning and preparation, I wanted some extra insurance for my natural birth, so we hired a doula, our childbirth instructor Sarah.

Now, I knew that if I had to be induced, I had a higher chance of getting additional interventions, particularly if pitocin was used, and a higher chance of ending up with a c-section. So, starting from 37 weeks, I began praying and hoping that I would go into labor. Then June 27th (my due date) came and went. I tried acupuncture, nipple stimulation, pressure points, and walking. Oh my did I walk. I met with one of my midwives and discovered that I was dilated at all - "Not even a dimple" she said. We decided that as long as I had a few non-stress tests, I could wait until July 11th, a full two weeks after my due date. The stress just kept building. I even tried the Murphy's Law of labor induction - at 41 weeks, Jason and I went to Black Butte for 4th of July, a good 2.5 hour drive from Portland, and at least 2 hours from the nearest Kaiser hospital. Still nothing. A few days before July 11th, I met with another midwife to plan my induction. If I didn't go into labor on my own, the I would come in at 6am on July 11th to be induced. Oh the stress!

On Friday, July 10th I had contractions off and on all day, and they were certainly stronger than they had previously been, but still nothing to get excited about. That night we took our dog to Jason's sister's and got ourselves all ready to go and then went to bed. We were nervous and stressed, but also a little excited, because we figured that at the very least we'd have our baby by Sunday night.

I woke up at 2:00am for no particular reason, and then about 30 seconds later I felt my water break. I bolted for the bathroom, calling to Jason as I went that my water had broken. Well, he decides that the best course of action is to just put down some towels and go back to bed, especially since my contractions weren't particularly strong. However, I realized pretty quickly that there was meconium, which can be a sign of distress, so I decided we should go in. After all, they were expecting us in a few hours anyway.

When we arrived, the contractions were coming every 3 minutes and lasting 45 seconds - usually a pretty good sign. However, they still weren't particularly strong and I was only dilated to 1.5cm, and about 65% effaced - not great for a woman who is supposed to be in labor. Now, one thing I have to mention is that our Kaiser hospital experience was amazing. The very first thing the labor triage nurse did was ask for our birth plan, and then she proceeded to inform the first midwife we saw of our wishes. This happened every time there was a nurse shift change. So they put me in a room, and Jason and I commenced waiting. We walked, I ate some breakfast, we walked some more. Around 11am, I thought the contractions were picking up so I asked Jason to call Sarah and I asked the nurses if I could go in the labor tub. Sarah arrived at about 1pm, while I was in the tub. Things had died down a little while in the tub, so I decided to get out and walk around.

Around 2pm, everything stopped. Nothing. No contractions, not even a twinge. The nurses wanted to start pitocin, but we asked them to hold off. We tried EVERYTHING. I walked all over the hospital, I got in the shower, I tried nipple stimulation, the whole thing. With each passing moment I got more and more stressed out, which I'm sure didn't help. I felt like time was just ticking away. At around 8pm, Jason asked our nurse, a fantastic woman named Ann Hathaway, of all things, if I could maybe get some sleep. I had been up for a long time, and we thought that might help. So I did. I slept for maybe 2 hours or so. Then I woke up with what I thought was the start of my real labor. I had a few strong contractions over the next two hours, so we called our nurse back in. Of course, the minute she arrived, they stopped. Finally, at about 1:30am, we consented to start pitocin, almost 24 hours after my water broke.

Even with the pitocin, which I knew could bring on brutal contractions, I was determined to labor without any pain medication. We called Jason's sister Angie, who had planned to be with us, and we got labor going. The contractions slowly built over the next several hours. I continued to walk around the halls as much as I could, squatting with each contraction to try and bring that baby down. At around 11am (this is Sunday morning now) we called Sarah back (we sent her home when labor stalled) as the contractions had really picked up. At some point I got back in the tub, which sort of helped, but not really. And yet, I still felt like I had it under control.

At about 2pm, I was in the shower, and the contractions were intense. I was exhausted, and really struggling. My labor nurse at the time, a woman who supposedly was very pro-natural birth, came in and said something along the lines of, "It's ok if you get help if you need it. Maybe you just can't handle this". Well, that was what I needed. I gathered myself up, and just started repeating to Jason "I can do this, right? I can handle this?"

We headed to the bed, and I found my groove. I was holding Jason's hand on one side, and Angie's hand on the other, and they were pretty much supporting my body weight, and Sarah was sitting in front of me. The contractions rocked my body, and I could no longer stay silent. Sarah told me to try saying "Yes" instead of no, and to moan deeply if I needed to make noise, which I did. All I could concentrate on was saying "Yes" as I was hit with each contraction. At some point, I threw up and I knew then that I was going through transition, which I had been told usually happened around 7 or 8 cm. At about 6:30pm I asked to be checked. I figured it wouldn't be much longer now. The midwife checked me and, are you ready for this? 4cm.

That's right, all that work, and I was only at 4cm. That broke me. I lost all motivation, and I pretty much knew at that point that I couldn't do it anymore. My supports tried to keep me going, Jason and Sarah and Angie kept encouraging me. We tried the tub again, but the contractions were peaking at the very beginning, giving me no time to prepare. Plus, I was so tired from having been at this for so long that I kept falling asleep between contractions, and then waking up in excruciating pain. We got a new nurse at around 7pm, Shannon, and she was incredible. She kept encouraging me, and holding me off as I began to ask for drugs. Looking back, my whole attitude had changed. I was no longer saying Yes with each contraction, but instead "I can't do this". At about 8:30, they all convinced me to get checked before I went ahead and got the epidural. I got out of the tub and threw up again. When the midwife checked me I was at a 6. Better, but I knew at that point that I if I had any hope of pushing this baby out, I needed to get some sleep. I caved and asked for the epidural.

At 9pm, I got the epidural and was surprised that I wasn't pain free. I felt intense pressure at the top of my stomach with each contraction. However, it was enough that I could go to sleep for a few hours. I woke at about 2am (Monday morning - 48 hours after my water broke) with intense pain in one little part of my abdomen, going straight through to my back. This is what they call a "window," where the epidural doesn't work in one little area and the a pain peeks through. But, because of the epidural, I couldn't really change positions on my own. I was stuck, and it was awful.

Finally, at about 4am I was fully dilated. I pushed a little, but they realized he was facing sunny side up. They reposition me to see if they could get the baby to turn and I laid like that for about an hour and a half. At 6am I began to push. By this point, there was no epidural, and I was at the highest level of pitocin. I pushed in every imaginable position - squatting, hands and knees, on my side, on my back. The contractions were coming every 1-2 minutes. Now, what I didn't anticipate was that I would be in pain in between contractions - excruciating pain in my hips and legs. I had no break.

A little before 8am, the midwife on-call, Tom, came in and checked me and said that if he pushed on my perineum he could see the head. I asked him for a rough estimate of how much longer and he said about an hour. Ok, I can do this, I thought. At 8am, the shifts changed and the new midwife on call came in to check me. She realized they had been tracking my heart beat instead of his, so she called for an internal fetal monitor. Then she checked me again and gave me some crushing news. After pushing for 2.5 hours, the baby hadn't dropped into my pelvis - in fact, he was still at a -2, where he was when I came into the hospital over two days before. Her words were "Your baby is doing fine, so you can keep pushing if you want to, but I'm not convinced he's going to be born vaginally".

That was it for me. I looked at the faces around me - Angie, Jason, Sarah, - and just said "I'm ready to meet my baby". Jason and I had a minute together and we decided to go ahead with a C-section - the one thing I had dreaded above all else. Even now, it brings tears to my eyes to think about it.

So, at 9:35am, on Monday, July 13th, 2 weeks and 2 days past his due date, Cyrus Thompson Wells was born via C-section. He weighed 8lbs 6oz, was 21.5 inches long and had a 15 inch head. Here are some labor stats for you:

Total hours in labor: 55.5

Total hours with pitocin: 31

Hours on pitocin with no epidural: 19

Hours pushing: 2.5

I have several thoughts on my labor, but seeing as how this post is already a novel, I will save those for another day. I'll just end with this: The process was not what we hoped for, but at the end of the day, every decision was ultimately ours, and, what matters most is that we got our baby boy.

Jason, Amber and Cyrus one day after Cy's birth.

Is he breathing?

I wrote about Cyrus's napping issues a few days ago, but was careful to only hint at his night sleep, because it has been, well, easy. And I am kind of a believer in the ability of one to jinx one's good fortune by talking about it while it is still happening. But I'm going to write about it just a little anyway and hope that the cosmic forces out there don't punish me.

From the beginning, Cy has slept his one long stretch during the night. Now, I use "long" loosely, as it was only three hours in the beginning. But that long stretch has lengthened progressively over the past few months, going from three to four to five hours. Up until two nights ago, his longest stretch ever was 7 hours, and that was the night after he got his vaccinations. He has routinely only slept about 5 to 6 hours at the longest.

On Thursday night, he went to sleep at 7pm, and at 4am Jason woke with a start to ask if I had heard him wake up. I hadn't. We were both suddenly hit with worry. Jason ran into his room to check if he was ok, and at first couldn't feel him breath. So he patted his head. Nothing. He did it again. Still nothing. Finally, Jason kind of jiggled his head, and - ahh releif - he moved. Twenty minutes later he woke up to eat. The next morning, we marvelled that he slept for nine and a half hours, but were sure it was a fluke. But then he did it again last night. And he's working on the same pattern tonight.

We've waited for this moment kind of since he was born. Ahh, to have to wake up only once a night! To get several hours of sleep in a row! Fantastic! And yet, at the risk of sounding like I'm complaining, because I'm really not, I never anticipated the stress that would come from having him essentially sleep through the night. When he wakes up every few hours, you kind of know that things are ok. Although I'm sure it's kind of false, there's a sense of security in that. It's kind of scary to have him sleep so soundly for so long. Just a few minutes ago, I went into his room to check if he was ok, and I too couldn't feel the rise and fall of his stomache. My heart dropped a little, even as I realized that he was probably just fine. I placed my hand in front of his face and sighed again with relief at the warm-cold-warm breath I felt as he breathed ever so softly in and out.

I realize now that the overwhelming fear that something will happen to him will never go away. Add that to the list of things I heard but didn't believe. After Jason and I lost our first pregnancy in the 10th week, we were understandably on edge when we got pregnant with Cy. After a brief scare with him in the 10th week, we saw his heartbeat again, and I remember asking my midwife in a shaky voice to reassure me that seeing the heartbeat at 10 weeks was a good sign. And her response stuck with me. She said: "Yes, that is a good sign. But Amber, that feeling that you're hoping will go away, that worry? It never does. Not even when they're 18." And although I knew she was probably right, I think somewhere in the back of my head I figured that once he was born, I would rest easy. I was wrong. Not only does that worry not go away, it seems to intensify with each passing day. And I'm quite sure that it will grow and stay with me until the day I die. Just a little side affect of loving another human being more than life itself.

My Cloth Diapering Story: Part 1

*I started out writing this post as a review of the cloth diapers we use, but as I started to write I realized that it might be helpful for someone out there to here about my reasoning and process in choosing cloth diapers.

Before Cyrus was born, Jason and I talked at length about whether to use disposable or cloth diapers. Throwing away all those disposable diapers just didn't sit well with us, not to mention the chemicals that are in most of the resonably-priced disposables. When I was doing research, I had a hard time finding good information on cloth diapering options and costs, so I'm providing my account for anyone else who might be interested.

So initially, we decided to use a diaper service. When we got to Portland, I looked into Tidee Didee, the only diaper service in the Portland area, as far as I could tell. Well, as environmentally concious as I'd like to be, I will admit that my wallet talks first, and the diaper service was going to cost close to $1,000 for one year! Yikes!

However, we were still really committed to using cloth diapers, so I started exploring other options - mainly, buying a stash of cloth diapers and laundering them myself. But I was worried about the extra work load, the mess and the excess water I would have to use to wash them, not to mention to cost of purchasing all those diapers. So, as is my nature, I dove into researching cloth diapers. I stumbled across a mail-order store located here in Portland that specializes in cloth diapers called Babyworks. Their catalog had tons of information and their salespeople were extremely helpful over the phone, spending over 20 minutes answering my questions before I had even decided to purchase from them. Not only that, but their return policy is amazing - 30 day returns, even if you've used and washed the diapers! They figure you can't tell if they work for you unless you try them. Impressive!

I discovered that there are many options - prefolds with covers, all-in ones, pocket diapers, one-size pocket daipers (and I'm sure I'm leaving a few out). As far as I could tell, the big downfalls with most of the diapering systems were 1) you had to buy them in multiple sizes as your child grew, adding cost and 2) you had to soak them in a big pail, which could get messy.

Enter the one-size pocket diaper. The idea is that the diapers are adjustable through a system of elastic and buttons or velcro and snaps, depending on the brand, and can therefore be used for babies 7lbs to 35 lbs - basically the whole diapering life of an average sized child. This means buying one set to get you through 2+ years of diapering! There are two brands of one size pocket diapers - Fuzzibunz and Bum Genius. Bum Genius uses velcro and snaps, while Fuzzibunz uses elastic and buttons to adjust the size. The Fuzzibunz product is slightly newer on the market.

Well, after some careful math, I realized that purchasing 24 pocket one-size diapers would be cheaper than buying the varying sizes of any of the other diapering systems. After additional research, I decided on the Fuzzibunz over the Bum Genius because it seemed that the Velcro closures on the Bum Genius would likely wear out faster than the snap closures on the Fuzzibunz.

My other issue was the mess. Babyworks recommended a toilet sprayer, a handy little sprayer that attaches to the back of your toilet, allowing you to clean off your dirty diapers before putting them in the hamper without getting your hands dirty. (Let me just add here that the thing works like a power-washer! Even when we've left poopy diapers until the end of the day, they spray off almost completely clean.) And, Fuzzibunz doesn't want you to soak the diapers in a pail, so there went that issue!

Once we had decided to go with cloth diapers, I realized that we would need some other supplies as well. We decided to use reusable wipes (basically just really plush washclothes) instead of disposable wipes, mainly because of cost, so we bought 32 of them. We also bought the diaper sprayer, some flushable diaper liners for when we're out and about, a "dirty duds bag" for the same reason, a washable diaper hamper, and a bottle of diaper detergent that will last us at least 2 years. Now, are you ready for the total cost of all of these supplies, including the 24 diapers?

We spent just under $600 for all of our diapering supplies, which will likely last us until Cy is out of diapers. Now, compared to the $1,000 a year for a diaper service, which doesn't even include some of the things we would have bought anyway, that's at least a $1,400 savings - more if he's in diapers for longer! And, there is a good chance that we can reuse the diapers and some of the other supplies with subsequent children. This might sound good in theory, but does it all work in reality? In Part 2 I'll give you my review of Fuzzibunz diapers and the whole cloth diapering process, as it's gone so far.

Who's your daddy? (or mommy)

When Cy was first born, pretty much everyone commented on how much he looked like Jason or a member of Jason's family. Now as he's growing and changing, I'm trying to see if it looks like I had anything to do with him. Check out the picture comparisons below. Who do you think Cyrus most resembles?

In the top picture are Jason and his twin brother Brian. Jason is on the left (denoted by the penned in J). Below is Cyrus is the same shirt. Check out those profiles!

In the top picture is me at around 6 months. In the bottom picture is Cyrus at around 2.5 months. Well, we at least seem to share some temperament...

Ahh, here we go. Now we see the similarities! Check out those pouts! I guess he did get a little something from me after all!

The thing that makes me feel like a bad parent

I can't figure out naps. Not my own - I've had those down for years - but Cyrus's. I want to be careful how loudly I complain about this because so far nighttime sleep has been managable and I don't want some cosmic force out there to show me just how bad it could be by taking away my blissfully easy evenings.

That being said, I spend the better part of my day trying to a) figure out if Cyrus is tired, b) find that "magic time" when he supposedly will go down without crying, and then when I miss it (which I do almost all the time), c) try to get him to go to sleep.

Some people may argue that if he's not sleeping during the day then he must not be tired. But the thing is, when he gets enough sleep, he is a nearly perfect baby. He rarely cries, he smiles happily, he is a joy to be around. However, when he doesn't get enough sleep he spends most of his day fussing and has very little happy time.

Cyrus at about 4 weeks...back when naps were easy!

The worst part is that everything keeps changing! Again, I don't want to complain too loudly, because I do realize just how much worse this could be, but he has had stretches of two weeks or so at a time where naps are almost seemless. That's how I know what he can be like. But a little switch goes off every two weeks or so and I find myself in a day like today. He refused to nap for more than 45 minutes at a time, and all but once woke up screaming. When I nursed and rocked him into an almost sleep state and then put him in his crib, he began screaming again, as if he knew what was coming and just wasn't having any of it. But because I know he needs sleep, and he won't sleep in my arms anymore, I have to leave him in his crib to cry. (This is the part where I feel like a terrible parent). He eventually falls asleep after fussing, crying and cooing off and on for 20 minutes or so, only to wake up 40 minutes later, whereby I watch the clock and him, trying again to pinpoint that supposed magic time, and then start the whole process all over again!

Part of my problem is that I am just so darned concerned about doing it right. And although I logically know that it is unlikely, I keep fearing that I will mess him up forever. Now if the cycle repeats itself, he should be back to napping well again in a week or so...but what if that doesn't happen? I realize that I am exposing my naivety as a parent, but I keep worrying that this current state will last forever and that I'll go bonkers.

And yet what I keep coming back to is why will he go to sleep so easily at night (universe, please don't shoot me down for this), but refuse to take naps? And, why will he take naps for a while and then stop? Does anyone have any answers for this? I welcome any and all suggestions!

Lazy Sunday and a Little Perspective

It is rare that I get to spend a day relaxing at home with my husband, with no errands to run or tasks to complete. Although I have some time to relax during the week when Cy is sleeping, I am at his total beck and call during the work day. Saturdays are usually spent either running errands or trying to get in some fun family time away from the house. And on Sundays, Cy and I spend the afternoon at church. But today was General Conference (a special broadcast church service that happens twice a year), so I didn't have to go anywhere today. And, since Jason was home, I had a partner in meeting Cy's demands. The greatest part about this was that I got to sleep in until 10:30am (after a 6:30am feeding) for the first time since Cy was born! Now, I don't need to sleep in often, and I usually tried to get up at a decent hour even before he was born, but on occasion, sleeping in just feels luxurious. Once awake, I then got to spend a good portion of the day in my pajamas, just lounging around.

Another bonus about today: it put a little perspective on things for me, in kind of an odd sort of way. Although I love being with Cy, sometimes it feels a bit overwhelming to be the one person who can meet his needs, especially when I am with him all day by myself. On some days, I find myself just counting down the minutes until he goes down for a nap so that I can do something for myself: take a shower, eat some lunch, check my e-mail. When Jason is home, however, he loves spending time with Cy so much that, unless he needs to eat, Cy is pretty much with Jason most of the time. So, today, for example, I had so much time to do things for myself that I actually found myself almost missing him. I found that I cherished the few moments cuddling with him after a feeding before I handed him over to Jason, partly because I knew that I didn't have to hold him. I hope this makes sense, and that I don't sound like a terrible mother. I do love my child, but it was just kind of nice to have a day when being with him was completely a choice, and still one that I wanted to make.

Now, if only I can keep this perspective as we go into the work week...

Three Things I Heard But Didn't Believe About Being a New Mom

It's funny how you can hear things sometimes, and know that they are probably true, and yet somewhere in the back of your head, you just think they won't apply to you. When I was pregnant, this happened a lot in regards to what my life would be like as a new mom. Now that my baby is here, I've realized just how true these things are:

1. You will be tired

You know, I knew that an essential element of being a new parent was surviving sleep deprivation. I knew that I wouldn't get much sleep and that I would feel pretty tired at first. But here's the thing - I've been tired before! I ran a summer camp for the past five summers, a really intense summer camp with challenging children and overworked staff in a brutal, wilderness environment. I routinely worked 18 hour days, and during staff training, often survived on just 4 hours of sleep. I got awoken in the middle of the night or early, early in the morning for various emergencies - I figured that I was perhaps more prepared for this sleep-deprived state than most

I was wrong.

I didn't know tired until I brought that baby home. Part of it I'm sure is that I started off the whole being a new mom thing by having to recover from a c-section after undergoing 50+ hours of labor and over two days with little more than a few hours sleep (that story to come soon). The first few nights in the hospital were rough because I had to wake Cy up every two hours to feed him, and by the third night my milk hadn't come in but he was hungry! By the time we got home, I didn't know what to do with myself, I was so tired. In fact, I think there should be a new word for the kind of exhausted that comes with being a new parent. Something like, close-to-death-don't-know-my-own-name-what-time-of-day-is-it-again-tired. Nothing could have possibly prepared me for that feeling.

2. They change fast

Well of course they change fast, I thought, they are little babies, they are growing and developing every all the time. Right. They change every day! And not in subtle ways, in big ways! What I didn't realize was that as soon as I thought I had a routine, or knew what worked for him, he changed it up on me! What worked in the morning didn't work in the evening. Oh, he's taking two three-hour naps a day this week? Don't worry, next week he won't sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time, and it will take you three hours just to get him to go to sleep! Perhaps what I didn't believe wasn't how fast he would change, but rather just how much his rapid change would affect me.

3. Don't expect to be in pre-pregnancy clothes for a while

This is the one that I haven't yet overcome. I just can't get over it. I mean, I knew it would be tough to shed the weight, but I didn't anticipate how much the shape of my body would change. Not only am I wearing a significantly larger size than I used to just so that I can stop wearing maternity pants, my clothes fit differently altogether. When I told Jason this, he laughed and said, "Oh, now you'll have to get Mom jeans." Except, the thing is, I've discovered that so-called mom jeans aren't a particular style of pant...it's just the way all pants look on a mom's body! No matter what style I buy, they look like "mom jeans"! I guess I figured that if I exercised and ate well I'd be able to slide back into my pre-pregancy clothes in a matter of months. Now, I'm just happy to be in anything non-maternity, no matter the size.

Were there things that threw you off about being a new parent? What are things that you heard but didn't believe?