The Twelfth Day of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

12 dinner items

11 soupy spoonfuls

10 secret weapons

9 different cookies

8 Muppet carols

7 fresh tortillas

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

Tonight was our Christmas feast.  And it was delicious!  The meal consisted of twelve different food items:

1). Cheese ball

2), 3), 4). Three kinds of crackers (Club, Ritz, and Wheat Thin)

5). Festive punch

6). Monterrey Jack potatoes

7). Butternut squash

8). Fresh pineapple

9). Oven-hot rolls

10). Stuffing

11). Spiral-cut ham

12). Cheesecake

I love Christmas Eve.  Every year I flip flop on which is my favorite day of the year: Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.  The Eve was pretty amazing this year, so the day is really going to have to bring it.

Merry Christmas, world!

The Eleventh Day of Christmas

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

11 soupy spoonfuls

10 secret weapons

9 different cookies

8 Muppet carols

7 fresh tortillas

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

The eleventh day of Christmas was a group effort.  Lewis, his mom, and I were all searching for something that would work.  I thought we had it in the bag when I counted eleven ingredients on a scrumptious bag of pistachios - but I miscounted and there were only ten.  Because day eleven has practically just fallen into my hands the past two years, I took it for granted that I would be able to find something that I didn't even think about it until about seven o'clock tonight.

We were helping Lewis' parents with a project, so they provided dinner for us in the form of leftover taco soup.  I very carefully polished my portion off in eleven (rather large) spoonfuls.  Boo-ya.

Eleven is hard!

The Tenth Day of Christmas

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

10 secret weapons

9 different cookies

8 Muppet carols

7 fresh tortillas

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

All of my nieces, nephews, and brothers-in-law (ten people in total) on Lewis' side will be receiving the same gift for Christmas.  We made those gifts today...

And they are awesome.

The Ninth Day of Christmas

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

9 different cookies

8 Muppet carols

7 fresh tortillas

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

The Geneva, the Pirouette, the Brussels (my favorite of the bunch), the Milano, the Orleans, the Lido, the Bordeaux (runner-up), the Chessmen (honorable mention), and the Lisbon.

It was eight o'clock at night, we were in Park City, and I had no idea of what to do for the ninth day of Christmas.  Lewis' parents needed to stop by Walmart to get some supplies for breakfast tomorrow, so we decided to see what we could see.

There are lots of food items that come in quantities of eight or twelve or even ten.  Tim Tams come in quantities of eleven (which you might already know, especially if you have followed my blog for an extended period of time).  But nine?  Not so much.

Thanks to my mother-in-law's keen eye, we discovered that Pepperidge Farm sells a box of cookies that includes nine different varieties.

Perfect!  Thanks, Pepperidge Farm.

Another day of Christmas fulfilled in the nick of time.

The Eighth Day of Christmas

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

8 Muppet carols

7 fresh tortillas

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

Lewis is so sweet.  He always makes sure I have my day of Christmas.

We had a plan for the eighth day, but after running around all over Utah county, we didn't get around to it.  On the way home from Orem, we were listening to the soundtrack from A Muppet Christmas Carol.  By the time we got home, we had listened to eleven of the songs on the CD: two instrumental, one sung by a human, and eight sung exclusively by Muppets.

Lewis had already done the math and shut off the music at strategic times during the last song to conversate with me, ensuring that we didn't get to track twelve and that I had my eighth day.

Love that guy.

Toofs

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you the following news.

Jack is something of a... chomper.  He chomps.  I have been so grateful that he's a little gummy newborn with no sharp ivories poking out of his precious drooly mouth.

Due to this bitey pastime of his, I felt confident that karma would smile down on me and he would be a late bloomer in the masticatory department.  I was sure the average tooth growing age of six months wouldn't even be in the question.

Instead of smiling karma, I got Murphy.

Jack is not quite three-and-a-half months of age and he is on the cusp of cutting his first teeth.  You can even see them.  And feel them.  They're are coming.

Ah, well.  And I had such high hopes that his daily soaking of the front of his onesies was just because he... well I don't know what I hoped, just not this.

Jack chews on his hands cause he hasn't figured out how to get a teething ring into his mouth every time.  Also he doesn't have any teething rings.

I don't want to get bit.

The Seventh Day of Christmas

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

7 fresh tortillas

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

They may not be pretty, but they sure are tasty.

To be the trophy wife that I am, I've developed a fairly complex system of nightly dinners.  Each night has a theme that alliterates with the day of the week it is.  These themes change monthly.  You could say that I have too much time on my hands.

For the month of December, I have been making slow cooker meals on Mondays.  But I forgot to put the stuff in the slow cooker this morning, so we had to do something else.  I have been wanting to make my own tortillas for a while now, but have never gotten around to it.

Tonight was the perfect opportunity.

Let me break it down for you:

Regular store-bought tortillas - good.

Uncooked store-bought tortillas - better.  Since we discovered them we haven't bought the former.

Homemade tortillas - best.

It's always disappointing when a slow cooker meal day doesn't work out cause, well, I know my way around a crock pot.  But tonight's fajitas with these homemade tortillas were money.  The recipe I used made eight tortillas, but I only made seven.

The Sixth Day of Christmas

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

6 chumps surviving

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

If I was still at BYU, I would take Dawn's class.

Survivor is one of our guilty pleasure shows.  I want to go on it only slightly less than I'd like to be on the Amazing Race.  I think that as a gimmick they should put both Lewis and me on the same season, but we will keep it a secret to everyone else on the show that we are married.  CBS and Survivor are obviously all about the gimmicks, so why not?

Anyway tonight is the finale.  (And don't worry, if you're a fan and you haven't seen it, I won't give anything away.)  I don't really know why I'm watching - I only liked one of the six remaining players, and I don't think that person has a chance.  But I'm watching it anyway.  Because it's the sixth day of Christmas.  And even if it wasn't... I'm hooked so it doesn't matter.

In other news, the sickness that hit the Youngs seems to be finally leaving us.  Jack has definitely been sick today, but he's a trooper and hasn't been too terribly extra fussy.  A little, but he's grinning and cooing at me right now, so any fussiness is forgiven.  Cause srsly.  He's adorable.

The Fifth Day of Christmas

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

5 macaronis with cheese!

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

Monopoly for iPad is available for free today so Lewis and I both got it.  Buuut it kept crashing every time we tried to play against each other over Wi-Fi.  Remembering that it was on sale at Walmart, I suggested that we just go buy the board game and play that.

So we did.  And after an epic, back-and-forth battle lasting a little over the length of the movie "Scrooged," I was victorious thanks to three lands on Free Parking and a well-timed trade.  I ended up with a net value of $20,290, all of the hotels, and all but two of the property sets.

It was awesome.

While we are Walmart we also bought five boxes of macaroni and cheese in preparation for lunches over Christmas break and also to fulfill today's requirement.

The Fourth Day of Christmas

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

4 extra lunch mates

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

Every Friday Jack and I go and eat lunch with Lewis at his school.  Since today was the last day of school before Christmas break, we stuck around a little longer than usual to enjoy the Christmasy activities that were occurring.

But then my cold took a turn for the worse and we came home.  I've been pretty much worthless since then.  Thank goodness Lewis is home to take care of me now.

Anyway instead of just the three of us, we also had lunch with Lewis' team teacher and her fiance, plus two other teachers.  Merriment and fully bellies were had by all.

The Third Day of Christmas

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

3 loaves of pumpkin

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

I made three loaves of pumpkin bread tonight.  I also made nineteen top-secret items for a total of thirty.

I also got a cold.  Imma go to bed.

The Second Day of Christmas

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

2 paid for dinners

And an off-limits box from Amazon!

Tonight was Lewis' school Christmas choir concert.  Before the concert I grabbed some Subway subs, paid for with a gift card, to be eaten after the concert.

Dinner number one.

Lewis' mom came to the concert.  When it was over she offered to take us to dinner.  Not wanting to deny her time with her cutest grandchild (sorry, Lorien and Monica), we accepted.

Dinner number two.

The subs went in the fridge and the fajitas to my belly.

Hooray for two free dinners!

The First Day of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

An off-limits box from Amazon!

Well it's that time of year again: The twelve days of Christmas!  I think I may be crazy for doing it again, but here we are.

One of my favorite things is opening packages.  Whenever I come home and see a box on my doorstep I get a little thrill of excitement.  I purposely bought some of Jack's Christmas presents online just so that I could open the packages when they arrived.

But then Lewis had to go and ruin it all by tacking all of my Christmas presents on to that order so that they were all eligible for free shipping.

And of course each of Jack's gifts was packaged with one of mine so I haven't been able to open any of them.

And of course since I work from the home, I've been the one to receive all of the packages.  All four of them that have arrived so far (with one more on the way).

In other news we had a mid-atlantic winter snow storm today (just like the first day of Christmas 2009) and I looked for the fifteen dollar ice cream gift card (from the first day 2010) because I'm not sure we ever spent it.  Connections!

Also to, are there really only twelve days until Christmas?  How did that happen?

My Kid Could Beat Up Your Kid

My son is insanely talented.

Not only can he roll over in one direction at a mere three months of age, he is even close to mastering the other direction.  Plus he is already smart enough to identify that I am his mom and I am awesome.

Like I said, talented.

Above all that, however, Jack has some kind of sixth sense.  He can always tell when he is alone in a room.

This talent is particularly applicable at nap and bedtime.  We will go through our sleeping routine: Jack gets a story and a song while I rock him.  As he drifts off to sleep, I will place him down in his bassinet and then go about my business.  Sometimes my business keeps me in the room.  More often my business takes me elsewhere in the house.

When I stay in the room, all is well.  Jack sleeps peacefully.  When I leave, however - Jack's sixth sense kicks in and he wakes up and calls out frantically for his mommy-dear.  Usually within two minutes of me leaving.

I must say, this gift of his is severely detrimental to my ability to keep house.

Jack is asleep in this picture because someone is in the room with him taking the picture.

What's amazing to me is how deeply he falls asleep sometimes, but still manages to wake up when I leave.  Sometimes he will fall asleep on my arms when I'm singing to him, deep enough that I can move him all over the place - and not gently, I might add! - without him waking up.  I will even place him in his bassinet and watch him for several minutes to make sure he is really asleep.  Yet he still manages to wake up as soon as I decide it's safe to leave.

In other news, Lewis and I have been quite well-rested recently.  Going to bed at the same time as your three-month-old will do that to you.

Mean Mom

Jack is a mama's boy.

In many ways, I love this.  I adore being the only person he will calm down for when he is crabby.  I cherish the fact that he will fall asleep in my arms after screaming bloody murder for anyone else who comes near him.

Other times it is a little bit trying.  Sometimes it would be nice to get a break from the clinginess.  Also too, I feel bad when he wails and wails with Lewis, but the calms right down for me.  Jack loves his dad, but when he's upset, I am usually the only one that will do.

But with great power comes great responsibility.  Since I am the one who brings comfort to his blessed little heart, any time he gets hurt it is all my fault because I didn't prevent it.

Even if I am no where near him at the time.


Jack was being a sweetie this afternoon, but I was tired and wanted a nap and he was very much awake. So I handed him off to Lewis so that I could get some shut eye.  About fifteen minutes later I hear Jack being wailing and sit up to see Lewis wiping blood from his forehead.  Apparently Jack, who just had his nails trimmed the other day, had scratched himself bad enough to break the skin (I still can't figure out how this happened - none of his nails were nearly sharp enough).

We of course felt the need to cut his nails right away to make sure this wouldn't happen again.  This is a hard enough task when Jack is asleep.  It's near impossible when he is screaming and flailing and arching his back in an all-out melt down.

Eventually we succeeded and I gathered Jack into my arms and held him close, rocking back and forth.  When he's upset like that, I can normally calm him down in about thirty seconds.

Not today.

I spent the next hour rocking him, walking him, bouncing him, singing to him, rubbing his belly, and trying to feed him - a move that until today, always worked in calming him down.

Finally, frustrated, I deposited him into his father's arms with a, "You try something."  Lewis looked at me like I was crazy, but took up the charge with honor, starting by changing Jack's diaper.  After completing that task, the two of them settled down on the couch together.  Jack still had tears flowing, but he was no longer yelling and his breathing was slowing down.  He was finally relaxing after an hour of screaming.

As he calmed, Jack looked across to the other side of the couch, looked me straight in the eye, and glared  like I was the worst mother in the world, making occasional sobs and moans of distress.  He continued giving me this icy stare of betrayal until he fell asleep, hic-sobbing.  He has been sleeping/hic-sobbing ever since.

Luckily for me, Jack lacks a significant amount of long-term memory.

But maybe his dad will now be a suitable source of comfort for the little monkey.  One can only hope.

Jack's New Trick

In just the past few days, Jack has learned and perfected a new trick that I had hopes he would never learn. I knew it was probably inevitable, but I had hoped I might have a little but more time before he learned to do this.  Like was so much simpler without this little maneuver.

Jack has learned how to arch his back.

Technically he's been arching his back since birth, but only when you picked him up when he was asleep.  He would tuck his legs under his bum, pucker up his lips, and stretch his torso, resulting in an arched back. It was adorable.  His sleepy back arch meant that he would be willing to curl up right there in your arms if you let him.  I loved it.

Back before his back-arching days, tantrums were much simpler.

This new back arching?  Not so much.

Jack hates going into his car seat.  I hate it too, but it's a necessary evil.  He has discovered that if he arches his back, it's really hard for Lewis or me to buckle him in and tighten the straps.

After the great success he has had in arching his back while going in his car seat (and by great success, I mean making everyone involved annoyed, including himself), Jack has decided to apply back arching to other situations.  Like when we buckle him into his bouncy chair.  Or on the changing table - that's a particular fun one because he involves his legs.  While we change him, he will arch his back and push off with his feet, launching his head into the barrier at the top of his changing table.  He doesn't have enough power to hurt himself, just enough to make him mad.  He will also usually catch his new diaper with his heel (we've learned to get the dirty diaper out of there as quickly as possible), removing it from where it needs to be.

For Lewis and me, his back arching is mostly just irritating.  It makes seemingly simple tasks take longer, sure, but other than that it's not the end of the world.  For Jack himself, though, it is far worse.  He bumps his head on the changing table, he makes the car seat straps cut into his skin... He's actually mildly hurting himself with this little habit.

So Jack, I ask you... Why?

Gosh, iPad!

Remember how a mere two months ago, I was praising the iPad for being so very awesome?

Well that was before iOS5!

Don't get me wrong, it's still awesome and I still paid zero dollars for it, but... Let me explain.

Every time I turn on my iPad/go back to the home screen, I see this adorable face staring up at me:

Darling, right?  This picture could win contests, I tell you!  (Shut up, I know I'm biased.)

Since the iOS5 update, however, I have become increasingly irritated many of the times that I see those big baby blues.  Why, you ask?  Because since the update, Safari freaking crashes all the time!  And it's not just when I click on a site that may have a lot of funky add-ons or stuff like that.  It'll sometimes crash when I'm in the middle of reading a stinking news article.  Today it crashed TWICE during the same article!  I wasn't even touching anything!

Can you tell by my overuse of the exclamation point (!) that I am seriously annoyed?!

Srsly.

And the last feeling I want to feel when gazing upon the innocent face of my beloved offspring is annoyance.  It's harrowing, I say!  Harrowing!

Now I get it.  iOS5 was created around the iPad 2, and I just have a measly 1.  But I had to get the update if I wanted my apps to continue working.  Plus Apple is known for quality products that continue to have a high rate of functionality even when they are replaced by a newer generation.  And most of my iPad stuff works just fine.  But I use Safari a lot... And every time it crashes, I feel like kicking my iPad in the face.

At the end of the day, however, I could never be irritated by seeing that picture.  I mean, just look at those squishy cheeks!

But I would appreciate it if Safari could get its act together...  Just so you know, world.

And Apple, if you are reading this, you could make me feel better by giving me an iPad 2.  In the spirit of Christmas and good will and all that.  I'll write a good review of it, promise.

If that happens, one lucky blog reader may even inherit my current iPad.  Start campaigning now!

101 Things I am Thankful for Today.

Over the past week I have debated back and forth about whether or not I would write this post.  On the one hand, I have a lot that I am thankful for and I should recognize some of those things.  On the other, I am very lazy.

But then something happened that reminded me of how incredibly blessed I am and I should do more to recognize that.  I'm not going to go into the incident, just suffice it to say that I am so grateful for all that I have.  I give you permission to not read this incredibly long post, but I feel like I need to express a lot of gratitude right now.

So without further ado, 101 things I am grateful for this Thanksgiving (in no particular order, mostly just how they come to me):

1. Lewis.  He is the perfect man for me.  I can't imagine my life without him.

2. Jack.  All he does is eat, cry, and poo but I love him more than life itself and even beyond that.  He is incredible.

3. My mom.  She is for reals the very best mother out there and the reason I am the person I am today.

4. My dad.  He can beat up your dad.

5. My sister.  She is an amazing example of faith, courage, and unconditional love.

6. My brothers.  They make me laugh.  I know that anyone who hurt me would get a swift kick in the rear from all three of them.

7. Lewis' parents.  I am so glad that they are Jack's grandparents.

8. My siblings-in-law.  I feel like I can just hang out with any of them.  They're good people.  I just need more on my side.

9. My grandparents.  They're cool.

10. My aunts.  More like extra older sisters.

11. My uncles and cousins.  Can't imagine the Hirschi Olympics without them.  The Madsen ones are pretty stinking awesome too.

12. My nieces and nephews.  I especially appreciate how good they are with Jack.

13. Pumpkin pie.  I know I said that this is in no particular order, but I think this deserves a place right after my family, know what I mean?

14. My iPad

15. Facebook.  I keep up with so many people because of that site.

16. Skype.  I love that Jack and I can talk to my parents in freaking Uruguay.

17. Google.  What up.

18. Pinterest.  This site has inspired me to be a cooler person.

19. My blog.

20. Books.  What else would I do all day with only soaps on the TV?

21. To Kill a Mockingbird.  This book will always have a special place in my heart.

22. My sewing machine.  I finally feel like I have a talent that I am developing.

23. My bed.

24. Our cars.

25. Our home.  I feel particularly blessed about this what with the economy being what it is.

26. Public education.

27. Higher education.

28. My bachelor's degree.

29. My teaching certificate.

30. Lewis' job.

31. The fact that Lewis makes enough so that I can stay home with Jack.

32. Pacifiers.

33. Rocking chairs.

34. Car seats.  I love knowing that Jack is safe in the car.

35. Cloth diapers.

36. My blender.

37. Christmas.

38. Footie pajamas on babies.

39. American Fork Hospital and all the nurses and doctors that took care of Jack and me during labor, delivery, and recovery.

40. My OBs who made sure I had a healthy pregnancy.

41. The pediatrician.

42. Walmart and their price matching policy.

43. A high efficiency washing machine.

44. Our camera.

45. The fact that my mom asked me to send a picture of Jack every day so I take a picture of Jack every day.

46. My former students.

47. College football.

48. BYU and the mighty Cougars.

49. The Holy War (that's this Saturday, right?)

50. Contact lenses.

51. My KitchenAid.

52. Bountiful Baskets.

53. Disneyland.

54. Reese's Fast Break - best candy bar ever.

55. My talents.  I'm still trying to figure out what they are, but I appreciate the ones I have and I am working on developing more.

56. The blinds in our bedroom.  Jack could look at them for hours.

57. Checking the mail.

58. Painted toenails.

59. Having Lewis point out different constellations at night and different types of clouds during the day.

60. Adoption.

61. Being warm when I sleep.

62. The seat heaters in my car.

63. Tunak.

64. Yellowstone.

65. Camping.

66. S'mores.

67. Crunching leaves.  I will go out of my way to step on one.

68. Hiking in the mountains.

69. Running.  I wish I could do it more often.  There's nothing like a good run in crisp air.

70. Having different seasons.  Summer is my favorite by far, but I love stuff about all four.

71.  Summer vacation.

72.  Online banking.

73. Getting up early enough to see the sunrise.

74. Playing catch with a football or frisbee.

75. Running barefoot in the grass.

76. Driving up to Park City in early autumn when all the trees are different colors.

77. Seeing Christmas trees in people's windows.

78. Pandora radio - especially the Lullaby and Polar Express stations.

79. Jack's smile.

80. Toothpaste.  I love brushing my teeth.

81. The fact that I can meet my baby's needs.

82. Having photographs to decorate my home.

83. Watching Lewis play with Jack.

84. Weekends.

85. Having enough - even when it's barely enough.

86. Flowers.  I love flowers.

87. The fact that there are still things for me to aspire to, and there always will be.

88. My memories - good and bad.

89. Hindsight.

90. My many friends who have supported me over the years.  I would give a shout out to specific ones, but there are lots.  Sorry guys.

91. Our ward.

92. My visiting teacher.

93. The fact that my marriage is eternal.

94. The gospel.

95. Being able to take the Sacrament each week.

96. The Temple and the blessings I have received there.

97. That I live among lots of temples that I can attend regularly (perhaps in theory).

98. The law of tithing.  So very many blessings have come from us living that.

99. Having a living prophet and modern revelation.

100. The scriptures and the fact that I can read them each day.

101. My Savior, Jesus Christ, and His atoning sacrifice.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Future Tight End

When we first found out that Jack was on his way, I naturally started thinking about what he would look like. Would he get my monkey feet? What about Lewis' pointy nose (which I love)? Would his hair be curly? What color eyes will he end up with?

Eventually my thoughts turned to his stature. See, I have a... unique body. My torso is quite short. Like whoa. But I'm also 5'7'', which is on the taller end of average. This is due to my legs being ridiculous in length. Allow me to illustrate: My husband has a good five or six inches on me and our legs are the same length (mine might actually be a little bit longer).

While Lewis has legs of an average length, his torso is quite the opposite of mine: long. This provides for an abundance of stature possibilities for our spawn (okay, maybe not an abundance, but whatevs). I felt confident that Jack would end up outfitted with either long legs or a long torso; no way he would end up with a double whammy of both. That would be just silly. How would he fit in any of his clothes?

Guess what he ended up with. No, really. Guess.

Our little booger is in the 97th percentile for height. If he keeps growing at this rate, he will end up at 6'2" or 3". I see an athletic scholarship in his future, so long as he moves beyond that 50th percentile for weight; this would be ideal cause college is expensive and we are public educators.

Jack fit into the little bath attachment thing here for about a day.  Good thing he doesn't seem to mind having freezing legs.

I was reading some random blog about some random six month old. The child in question was being touted as super long at a whopping 25.5 inches. Jack is half an inch shorter than that and he is only two months old.

Ahem.

On top of his lengthiness, Jack wears cloth diapers. We love 'em, but they do add another inch or so to his torso length. And when his wardrobe consists mostly of onesies, you can imagine the trouble this might cause.

So what does this all mean? It means I am really grateful for all of my loved ones who gifted us baby clothing in a plethora of different sizes. I am beyond relieved that my child will not go naked this winter just because he decided to add four-and-a-half-plus inches to his head-to-toe measurement in two months flat. Because it's obviously his fault.

This is a 12 month onesie.  The only area where it doesn't really fit is the head hole cause his head is just in the 25th percentile.  We've concluded that he has adult proportions.

No wonder he's so fussy. You would be too if you grew nearly five inches in two months.

Question.

Baby clothes are adorable, that's for sure.  Jack looks darling in anything we put him in.  But I have a bone to pick with the greater baby clothing industry:

Why all the pastels?

When did that become a thing?  Babies don't even like pastels.  You put two objects in front of a newborn, one pastel, the other a bright color, and they will fixate on the brighter colored object every time!

Also too, all of my favorites of Jack's clothes are of the non-pastel variety.  I think he looks even more adorable in non-pastels.  Don't get me wrong - he's cute in pastels too.  I just like normal colored clothing better.

My favorite of Jack's jammies.  If they still fit, I would still make him wear them, even though Halloween is over.  He looks good in black.

Part of that may have to do with my third and most important point about wondering why pastels are a thing.

The poop.

Babies poop and they poop a lot.  Diapers are not always able to hold poop in.  When diapers fail at this their most important function, do you know where the poop goes?

Well, everywhere, but since clothes are often the closest thing to the diapers, the poop usually starts there.

Now if your baby is wearing, say, dark gray and forest green, this is not a problem.  Treat the clothes and wash them of course, but you don't have to worry about a noticeable stain.

Poop is not a problem in this outfit.

But if it's something like baby blue and duckling yellow, well... Let's just hope you don't mind adding splotchy mustard yellow to that color pallet.

White?  Okay.  That's bleach-able.  But not even a good scrubbing and an overnight soak in Oxyclean will remove a most stubborn poop stain from those darling pastel pants.

Thank GOODNESS the poop came out of his blessing outfit.

 Oh well.  At least baby clothes are cheap.

New Habits

Yesterday during church I found myself steadily rocking back and forth, back and forth trying to keep my sleeping baby in that condition.  And then I remembered that Lewis was holding him.  There was nothing for me to rock.

Not five minutes later I found myself doing it again.

Then today after Jack fell asleep I went about cleaning the kitchen.  Jack made a noise like something had startled him and he was shortly going to wake up.  To prevent this I started tiptoeing around, loading the dishwasher as quietly as I could before I remembered that Jack was in his room sleeping and the noise I heard was through the baby monitor.

I might need to get more sleep myself.

Requisite Post

As a mommy blogger, I feel compelled to share with you the adorable things my son does. And hoo boy, today was a doozy.

I've been trying to get him to look at himself in the mirror for WEEKS but he'll have none of it. Today he finally caught his own eye and just spent a good time grinning toothlessly at himself. It was beyond darling. Just sos you know, I get to spend all day long with the cutest thing to walk this earth.  Okay maybe not walk just yet, but when he finally achieves ambulation baby seals, sneezing pandas, and lol cats alike better look out.

As proof please examine the following:

Amiright?

Mommy blogger duty: fulfilled.

Favorite Store No More

I generally consider myself to be a reasonable and forgiving person.  I'm all about giving second chances.

But blow your second chance and... ho buddy, watch out.

Kohl's used to be my favorite store.  They frequently have good deals and they do a lot to get you back into their store, again and again (I'm looking at you, Kohl's Cash).

Due to two recent incidents, however, I am disinclined to shop there any more.

Incident Number 1:

We received a set of onesies for Jack that happened to come from Kohl's.  I really liked the onesies, but they were newborn size and he outgrew newborn clothes in about a week, so we decided to exchange them for a bigger size.  So Lewis, Jack, and I all head to Kohl's to make the exchange.  We go and find a set of onesies in the size we want and Lewis takes them to customer service to make an exchange while I shop.

The representative at customer service tells Lewis that he has to pay more money because the onesies we were exchanging were from last season.  Normally this would be understandable, except for the part where this season's onesies and last season's onesies were identical.

But the computer said that there was a price difference so Lewis had to pay the difference.  Naturally Lewis asked to speak to a manager.

The manager came out and immediately started treating Lewis like a hostile customer.  If you've met Lewis, you know that he doesn't know how to be hostile.  This was ridiculous.  Neither the customer service representative nor the manager could find any difference between the two sets of onesies (except for the size), but Lewis still had to pay the difference because that's what the computer said and there was nothing they could do about it. (Yeah, right.  There's always something you can do.)

Frustrated, Lewis paid the difference (we couldn't just take the wrong sized onesies home - they would have no use!) and went to find me.  He recounted the story and I immediately put back the $60 boots I was about to buy and we walked out.  We were planning on spending real money that day, but because of a $7 difference in two sets of identical onesies, we left with nothing.  Except the onesies.

When we got home Lewis sent off a message to the corporate customer service office.  They responded apologetically and assured us that we would hear back from that location within the week.

It's been over a month and we've heard zilch.

Incident Number 2:

A few weeks after the first incident occurred, I was willing to forgive the larger company that is Kohl's (see, I said I was forgiving) and just avoid the American Fork location, since they never responded like they were supposed to.  Plus Lewis and I both got gift cards to Kohl's for our birthdays (they were given before Incident Number 1) that needed spending.  Over Fall Break we were going to be in the greater Provo/Orem area anyway, so we decided to go and spend our cards at the Orem location.

Unsuccessfully.  The boots I was going to buy before didn't end up looking that good on me (chicken legs) and I was unimpressed with their clothing selection (this is bad news - post-baby me needs new clothes).  Lewis was going to get new jeans, but the ones he wanted were not on sale and they're kind of pricey.  I had been wanting a bread machine for a long time and Lewis has finally caught on to the idea of frequent fresh bread, so we decided to pool our gift cards and get that.  They didn't have any in-store, though so we went online.

We read through the reviews of each of their bread machines and selected one that had good reviews and a decent price.  Bam.  Ordered.  This was October 21st.

On October 23rd, I received an email that said our bread machine was ready to be shipped.  Included in the email was the requisite information for tracking my package.  It also said that the bread machine would arrive between October 27th and November 2nd.

Knowing that often packages will arrive before their designated window, I casually checked the tracking the next day.  The UPS website said that a shipping label had been created but the package had not yet arrived at their facility.  No big deal, it was still early.

So I checked again the next day.  No change.  Same thing the next day and the next and the next all the way to yesterday (November 8th).  By this point I was really annoyed that I didn't have my bread maker at my house and fresh bread in my belly.

Also in the email there was a link to follow the shipping from Kohl's website as well.  I had glanced at that a few times to be informed that the package had shipped.  That's all it said.  Nothing more specific.

So Kohl's Customer Service received another email from the Youngs.  I heard back from them not too much later.  They informed me that UPS made a mistake (not them, but UPS - way to own up to stuff, Kohl's.  Even if it was UPS, you're at fault too cause I bought the product from you.) and because of that they were unable to reship my bread machine.  They would return my money/gift cards, and if I still wanted the bread machine, I would have to reorder it.

I was livid.  First of all, why can't Kohl's reorder my item, why do I have to?  I ordered it, so obviously I want it.  Fix the mistake and then reprocess the order!  Second of all, if there was a problem with my order, why was I the one to contact Kohl's and not the other way around?  If they figured out the problem so quickly, it's obviously been there a while and they should have contacted me as soon as there was a problem.

And of course, since we used gift cards, we can't just go buy a bread machine somewhere else.  Or I suppose we could, but the money that was spent on the gift cards was already given to Kohl's so I'm not going to let those gift cards go unused.  I'm so freaking irritated.  And of course, we have to wait to get our money back (4-8 days to get a new gift card and 14-30 to get the excess returned) so I can't even just reorder the bread machine immediately because we don't just have enough money for it lying around.

In a world of Web 2.0 and social networking, Kohl's should know better than to let stuff  like this happen.  When anyone can get online and tell a story, companies need to make sure that they are telling good stories about them.

Kohl's wants us to "Expect great things."  Well I did.  And I didn't get them.

Sorry, Kohl's.  I'm out.

Weird Thing and Awesome Thing

As a stay-at-home mom, I don't get out much.  I therefore have to amuse myself with the little things that happen during my day, which may come at the expense of others.  I find this to be a healthy exercise.  I have no doubt that my mind would degenerate rapidly if I was only amused by the goings on of my adorable two-month-old.  He's darling and does cute stuff, sure.  But still.  If I'm ever to make it back to the classroom, I need my mind to stay sharp.

This is my justification for laughing at the following two incidents: One weird and one awesome.

The Weird:

Jack and I were chilling on the couch downstairs when I heard someone open the gate to our backyard.  At first I thought it was Lewis (it was about time for him to get home) but why would he come in the back?  I heard whoever it was jiggle the doorknob and, finding it locked, knock rather aggressively on the door.  In the back of my mind I was still thinking it had to be Lewis because, really, who else could it be?  There is no one I know who would try to come to my house through the back door.  Luckily I had enough smarts to open the blinds before opening the door because it was most definitely a stranger.  As I opened the blinds I gave this young hoodlum (I just assumed he was a hoodlum because he entered my yard through its closed gate but I suppose he could be an upstanding young man.  It's fifty-fifty.) an odd look and said, "Um, can I help you?"  He, rather quickly, seemed to ascertain that I was not who he thought I was going to be, offered a look of surprised, and hurried his little behind off my property.

Since this incident I've considered two possible explanations for why this occurred.  Number 1: This young gentleman was a close enough friend of our house's former occupants that he could visit them from their back yard.  The reason he hasn't been back since they moved out is because he was off filling the world with do-goodery.

Number 2: He got the wrong house because they all look the same and there isn't a house number in the back.

The world will never know which it is.

The Awesome:

Lewis had a long week.  It was Halloween, Jack's been keeping us up later than usual, and he's coming down with a cold.  As such he's pretty exhausted by the time Friday rolls around.  It was a little after 9 PM last night when I was trying to get Jack to fall asleep.  Lewis was lying in bed while I rocked and sang to our little toot and managed to fall asleep before Jack did.  Unfortunately we had not yet said our family prayer, nor had Lewis taken out his contacts.  Knowing that he would regret the latter (and hopefully the former), I shook Lewis awake after I put Jack down in his bed.  It was Lewis' turn to say the prayer and he technically did, but the prayer consisted of asking for Jack to be blessed and thanking for our house.  After he finished, he climbed back into bed only to be annoyed by me again, telling him to go take out his contact lenses.  He grudgingly complied and that was that.

Until this morning.  While Jack and I were downstairs, I heard Lewis call me from upstairs and ask why his contacts were not in their case.  Instead of putting them inside, in his half-awake state, he somehow managed to place them on the side of his case where I'm sure they dried right out.

Between that and his prayer, I'm still giggling.

Maybe I'm too easily amused.

A Post About Poop

I officially dub this week to be poopy.

My dear son Jack, who has not had a blowout in nearly a MONTH, decided to have two - two - major ones this week.

The first went straight up his front.  Not his back, his front.  I didn't even know that was possible.  I guess you learn something new every day as a parent.

The second one went not only up his front, but down his legs too.  It then travelled into his hands and onto his feet as he wailed and flailed while I cleaned him up.  The most impressive part was the amount I cleaned out of his belly button.

Did I mention that these were the only two poo diapers he's had in the past three days?  And I thought I would be excited when his digestive tract matured and he stopped having so many poopy diapers...

The House that All the Kids Hate

Obvious statement of the day: It's Halloween!  I miss being a teacher lots on Halloween.  Many teachers may dislike the day and for good reason - the students all act like they have bees in their head, there's no instructional value to the day, etc.  But I love it!  It's a day when you're allowed to just have fun with your class.

I was just introduced to the elementary school Halloween parade a mere two years ago.  In the plethora of elementary schools that I went to, none of them partook in this tradition.  Which is a real bummer cause it's a ton o' fun.  The parade is one of the biggest things that I miss.  Luckily, since my dear esposo is an elementary school teacher too, I still got to participate mostly because he wanted to show off Jack (and who can blame him?), and also cause our costumes went together (we're the Rubbles).  So Jack and I headed out the door this morning all decked out in our Halloween finest.  At Lewis' school we saw some fabulous costumes.  My favorite was one of Lewis' kids.  This girl with gorgeous flowing curly black hair dressed as Troy Polamalu - genius.  There was also a kid dressed as Jake Heaps with a bench attached to his bum.  Ouch.

None of the above is the point of this post, however.  It's just the precursor, the inciting incident, the exposition.  The point is that Lewis' school is not the only place I had to go today.  I also had to go to Walmart.  And since Jack does not like being packed up into his car seat ONE BIT, it made sense to go to Walmart while I was already out.  Also too, Walmart could not be more on the way when traveling from Lewis' school to our home.  Basically it in no way made sense for me to take a second trip.

So after the parade I loaded Jack into the car and headed on over.  Still in my costume.


To understand why this is such a big deal, you have to first understand something about me.  I am not morally opposed to wearing a costume while you're are just out and about on Halloween.  If that's your game, go for it.  But it's not my thing.  I'm too self-conscious or something.  I could maybe - maybe - do it if I was in a group of people all headed to the store at ten AM on Halloween.  But I wouldn't like it.

I would definitely do it if I had a child that was wearing his or her costume with me and we were part of a matched set.  And this was technically the case, but Jack was bundled up under his car seat cover thing so that only his face showed.  Plus his costume consists of a onesie, diaper, and a strip of fabric pinned across his shoulder so it hardly counts.

But there I was in any case in all my Halloween glory.  I zipped my sweater over the top of my costume, but it was still pretty obvious that I was a 25-year-old, essentially alone woman dressed up to celebrate.  If nothing else the fact that I was wearing flip-flops in 40 degree weather was enough to give it away.

I'm sure no one really noticed or even cared, especially since I had an adorable little toot in my cart snoozing away, but unfortunately that kind of thing doesn't matter when you're self-conscious like me.  I suppose that being a mom now I'll just have to stop giving a darn about potentially embarrassing situations cause if there's anything I know about kids...

Anyway the whole reason I was at Walmart was to get candy for trick or treaters.  I know.  I'm that person, the one who doesn't buy Halloween candy until the day of.  But you've got to understand something.  I've purchased an overabundance of candy for each of the past three Halloweens in anticipation of all the little darlings that would flock to my front door now that I lived among people with children again.  And I got the good stuff too!  Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Milky Ways, Twix - you name it.  But in all three of the past Halloweens combined, I think our door has been knocked upon a total of twice.

Here is where I am something of an oxymoron.  I'm incredibly enthusiastic about holidays to the point where I even packed a Halloween-themed lunch for my husband today.  My adult husband.  And yet I can't even get up the courage to openly wear my costume to Walmart.

My point is, though, that when you are that enthusiastic and excited about something, it can be a bit of a disappointment when your expectations are crushed.  So up until this morning I hadn't bought Halloween candy.

Yesterday when I realized I hadn't done that yet, I tentatively allowed my trick-or-treaters expectations to elevate.  We live in a complex of townhomes - house after house after house.  There are no stairs to ascend to get to our front door.  And we finally live in a ward where the primary is actually larger than the nursery.  These are ideal circumstances for Halloween candy distributing success!

(Wow I really sound like a creeper.)

So the trip to Walmart was essential.  Except on Halloween day, they are out of all of the good stuff.  No Reese's.  No Milky Ways.  No Twix.  Just plain, old, leave in the bottom of you pillowcase until next Halloween, generic.

Great.  I just set us up to be that house.  You know the house.  The one that everyone learns to skip cause trick-or-treating time is precious.  You have to maximize your good candy profits by hitting only the very best homes with your sweet tooth solicitations.  We're the house that will earn a black mark this year because it's not common knowledge that we have crappy candy and so trick or treaters will still knock on our door and then come away in grumpy spirits because we wasted their time with our generic treats.  Our house will be the reason why there will be so many ticked off pirates, zombie skate-boarders, and Egyptian princesses in our neighborhood tonight.  My hopes is that they are all still to young to think to egg my garage.

Just wait til next year, neighborhood kids.  Next year I will be prepared.  Next year I'm going to have mind-blowingly good candy in my trick-or-treat cauldron.  But you won't get any cause you blacklisted my house already.  So poo-poo on you.

No Just Waits or Can't Waits

Just a heads up, this post may be a little, erm, sentimental.  Proceed at your own risk.

A couple of months ago, not long before Jack was born, I came across this op ed (yes, I read BlogHer.  Judge not).  The piece talks about "Just Waits" and "Can't Waits" and how useless those phrases are.

I have to say, I completely agree.  I've always been bugged when people give me parenting advice that starts with "Just wait."  "Just wait until Jack starts this then he will x, y, and z."  Yeah, maybe.  And maybe not.  Maybe Jack will terrorize my house when he starts walking.  Maybe he will yank all my clothes off their hangers.  Maybe he will put his sticky hands all over my sewing machine.  And maybe he won't.  Either way, it will be fine and I'll figure it out and deal with it as best as I can.  If all the Just Waits I've heard actually come to pass, I will believe my son is possessed.

Point is, I don't mind parenting advice - heaven knows I need it.  I do mind Just Waits.

But it's the second half of her article that really touched me in my heart.  Enough so that I shared it with Lewis and we have made an effort to kick unproductive Can't Waits to the curb.  If all we do is look forward to when Jack can crawl or when Jack can feed himself or when Jack can do any number of things that he can't do right now, we're going to miss out on Jack and how great he is right now.

An example: Jack is a fussy baby.  He's got reflux and likes to spend the hours of 6-8 in the PM screaming.  Lately that period is closer to 5-9 PM with some minimal breaks in between, usually just when he is eating. It can be very trying.

Lewis sets a good example for pleasantness.  Jack doesn't care.

With these evenings spent trying to console an inconsolable infant it would be really easy for us to say, "I can't wait until he's past this fussy period."  But we're not going to do that.  Know why?  Because of all the other precious little things that happen during this same period.  Like Jack wanting to be cuddled and held.  Or the cute little awkward smiles he gives when he wakes up in the morning because he's still trying to figure out how to control all his muscles.  Or watching him concentrate SO HARD on getting his fist in his mouth only to miss and punch himself in the face.  And when Jack moves out of this fussy period, which I know will happen soon, he won't have those things.  He'll be more alert and curious about stuff other than us.  He won't have any difficulty smiling.  He'll know how to put his fist directly in his mouth.  And those things will be darling too.  And I plan to enjoy them when they happen.  But for now, I'm enjoying what he's doing now.

Even when I was in the last few weeks of my pregnancy and I was uncomfortable and humongous, Lewis wouldn't let me Can't Wait my way out of it.  Those were the last few weeks we had as just us, no baby to take care of.  If I spent all my time dwelling on the Can't Waits (which I may have done more than I should have), I would miss out on enjoying my last little bit of time with just Lewis.

Now I know what you're thinking.  This is a little extreme.  And you're probably right.  There's nothing wrong with a Can't Wait here and there.  Can't Waits are a natural thing to think and say.  And I will often think Can't Wait in my head - but when I do, I will stop and remember all the things that I am enjoying now.  It's helped me to appreciate my little baby and all that he is capable of each new day so much more.  Because oh my heck.  He's changing so quickly.  Am I excited for him to be able to do all these new things?  Sure.  Can I wait?  Absolutely.

How could you not enjoy this?

If you look in the article, there are a few acceptable Just Waits and Can't Waits, while still retaining this mindset of relishing in the preciousness of each moment with your child.  I won't rehash them all for you.  Suffice it to say that right now, I can't wait for Jack to wake up.

The Times I Want to be Asleep

When Jack wakes up in the middle of the night to eat, rare is the time that he's not absolutely delightful.  He coos, he makes faces, he eats happily.  He also sometimes does not go back to sleep very easily.

Such was the case early Sunday morning at about 3:15  He had already woken up to eat twice before (he usually only wakes up to eat twice total), so I had not gotten much sleep by that point.  After feeding him (which took about fifteen minutes), I held him and rocked him and tried to get him to fall back asleep.  No dice.  He didn't even drift off in my arms only to wake up when I laid him back down as is his usual M.O.  Jack was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the whole time.

Had it been a few hours later I would have loved to have stayed up and made faces at him and played with him, as he was clearly in the mood for.  But it was nearing 4 AM and I was dog tired.

After struggling with Jack for half an hour (until it actually was 4 AM) I decided Lewis needed a turn.  I shook Lewis awake and presented him with his son.  Lewis barely acknowledged that Jack was now with him so I placed Lewis' hands on Jack's back so he wouldn't roll off his chest and put our large body pillow on the edge of the bed for extra security.

Satisfied that Lewis could now share in my lack of sleep and positive that Jack would shortly start wiggling and kicking his dad so he'd have to wake up all the way, I lied down to finally get some sleep.  As I did, I rolled over on my side to check on Jack since Lewis still didn't seem very awake.  Jack was resting peacefully with his eyes shut.  Seriously?!

Just as I started to close my eyes I saw Jack open his ever so slightly, look straight at me, and smirk.

A few hours later Lewis woke up confused as to why he had a baby on his chest.  He didn't remember anything.

To be fair, Jack made up for it tonight.  He slept from 10:30 to 4:00, then again from 4:30 to 8:00.  All that sleep was delightful.

Fun at the Zoo

Since it's fall break, we decided to go to the zoo along with everyone else in Utah who couldn't afford to go to Disneyland. We went with Lewis' sister and her three kids - 5, 2, and six hours older than Jack.

Going to the zoo with two six-week-olds is challenging, mostly because they need to eat frequently. I was able to pump enough milk to tide Jack over for as long as it took him to finish the bottle and then he was rip-roarin' for more. Luckily the area with the tigers was pretty secluded... At least until 90% of the zoo patrons decided to follow me in there.

Getting ready to feed a hungry, fussy, and exceedingly wiggly baby can be difficult in and of itself when modesty is not an issue. Trying to do all that when your baby keeps kicking the nursing cover off of what it is supposed to be covering is, well, stressful. Luckily the rest of our group decided to follow me in there and Lewis stood on one side of me and Monica - a much more experienced modest nurser - sat on the other feeding Jack's twin cousin keeping me pretty well shielded.

Even better, Monica's five- and two-year-old were able to provide some entertainment. First, the five-year-old informed me that Jack was "eating milk that he gets from your boob." Then the two-year-old, who is apparently fascinated by breast feeding, kept trying to peek at Jack eating. The best time was when I had already handed Jack over to Lewis for burping and she tried to see the baby under my nursing cover while I was putting everything away. After screeching at her to not peek, she informed me of her intentions and I was able to point out Jack's true location.

All in all it was a fabulous trip. The kids were all well-behaved and we got to see lots of fun animals as well as some top-quality people watching. But I will forever laugh at the interactions I had with those two cute kids while I fed my little fussy monkey at the zoo.

Validating My Paranoia

DISCLAIMER: The purpose of this post is to express how my over-exaggerated paranoia has been validated.

A few months ago I decided it would be prudent for me to develop some more momly and homemakerish talents since that was what I was shortly to become.  I'm already a fairly decent cook so I chose to go in the direction of sewing.  For my first sewing project, I elected to make bumpers and a dust ruffle for my soon to arrive son's crib.

I worked for hours on this project, through an aching pregnant body and broken threads and pricked fingers.  When all was said and done, I was quite pleased with the finished project.  So pleased, in fact, that I decided to tackle another sewing project: our Halloween costumes - Don't worry.  I'm sure I will brag about their cuteness when they are started done.

Since his crib is in his nursery and his food which he desires in the middle of the night is in my room, Jack has not slept for an extended period in his crib (other than the nap he is taking as I type this - first time in the crib for longer than five minutes).  The issue which is the subject of this post, therefore, has not become a real issue yet.

It's the bumpers.  The cute little green and brown bumpers that so well match the color and monkey theme of his nursery.  It's not that I don't like them.  I'm quite proud of them.  No, it's that parental paranoia that keeps cropping up as a theme throughout my blog of late.  What if he rolls over into one of them and suffocates?!

The cute little green and brown bumpers that so well match the color and monkey theme of Jack's nursery.  You can't see the brown part, but it's there.

This is something that I think about every time we go into his nursery so I can change him.  He's in cloth pocket diapers (love!) so after he's changed it's a bit of a longer process to deal with the soiled diaper than if he was in disposables.  I have to flush the liner down the toilet, then separate and put the diaper and insert into a plastic bin in the laundry room.  It is a task that doesn't take long to complete, but it is made easier with the use of two hands.  Ergo Jack goes in the crib while the process is completed.  And I always tell him not to move (as if he could yet) because I don't want him to roll into the bumpers and suffocate.  Because I think about that.  Every time.

Of course I'm conflicted.  The bumpers are for safety, right?  Which is why I haven't yet made the decision to remove him from his crib.  But if he rolled into just the crib slats, how bad could he get hurt, really?

Today I read an article that pushed me over the edge and made me decide that the bumpers must go.  The cute little green and brown bumpers that so well match the color and monkey theme of his nursery that my fat pregnant butt slaved over must go.  For those of you too lazy to click on the link and get informed, let me explain: The American Academy of Pediatrics revised their SIDS guidelines to say that bumpers should be removed from cribs.

At least I still have the dust ruffle.

Just call me an oracle for the AAP.  No, don't.  I don't want to get sued.

But still!  My paranoia was just validated by the American Academy of Pediatrics.  This does not bode well for my future paranoias, but I'll take it if it means a safer Jack.

And I am bummed about losing the bumpers that I freaking made, but now I'll have some extra fabric that I'm sure I can put to good use.

Baby Motivator

Problem 1:

I have been thinking about getting my hair cut for a while.  I'm a mom now, so obviously I need a super-short mom haircut, right?  No, but seriously.  I don't really know how to "do" hair, and usually shorter hair, like at or just above my shoulders looks better when it's undid.

Plus I have an infant who has not yet discovered his hands so they therefore open and close at random.  This lovely little child spends much of his time in my arms where my long hair is in constant reach.  Multiple times a day I can be seen gently trying to pry his hands open to release my hair.

Last time I cut my hair it was long enough to donate but still be the length I wanted when I cut it, and I'd like to donate it again.  It's not quite that long now, but this morning I received some extra motivation to cut it sooner.

Problem 2:

Jack is a pretty good sleeper.  We've gotten into the routine of me feeding him between the hours of nine and ten, then putting him down to sleep.  He'll sleep until about one or two, wake up, eat, and go back to sleep.  Sometimes, however, he doesn't sleep very soundly when I put him down again so I'll pick him up and rock him and try to get him into a deeper sleep.

One night, early in our relationship, I discovered that he'll go right to sleep if I lay down with him on my chest.  A few nights later, I discovered that it's really easy for me to go to sleep like that too.  Plus having a sleeping infant on your chest is delightful.  He's even doing that very thing right now, and I love it.

But I'm also a paranoid parent and research shows that kids who sleep in the same bed as their parents have I higher risk of SIDS.  Not to mention that I certainly don't want Jack sleeping in our bed to become a habit.  So I've been trying to wean him off of falling asleep like that.  Mostly this just takes more time for me.

I've been doing well the past few nights.  I've still consistently ended up having him fall asleep on my chest, but it's been later each night, so he spends less time in our bed.  This morning, however, I received some extra motivation to kick him out of our bed sooner.

Solution:

This morning when I gave up and brought Jack to bed with me, just as I was laying him down on my chest, he spat up all over my hair.  Short of a shower (which was not an option since Lewis had to get up soon and get in the shower himself), spit up is not easy to clean out of hair.

If my hair had been cut already, the spit up would have just gotten on my shirt - easy to change.

If I had stopped bringing Jack into bed with me, the spit up would have gotten in his bassinet - easy to clean.  Or maybe he wouldn't have spit up at all since it seemed to be the movement that did it.

Jack is such a good son.  He knows just what he needs to do to help his mother get stuff done.  Also he started smiling this week so he made sure I still think he's cute even when he spits up all over me.

Making Adjustments

Even the most casual followers of my life will be able to divine that it has recently changed in a dramatic fashion.  Yes, I am obviously talking about going from renters to homeowners.

This has been a major adjustment.  Before we bought this house, Lewis and I had only lived in upper-level apartments.  When you live in the same situation for nearly three years you tend to form certain habits.  In this case, we got into the routine of stepping lightly around our apartments to avoid disturbing the tenets in the units below.

Now we have a house.  Our house has two stories and the only occupants of each is us.  Sometimes I forget this and still find myself stepping overly carefully or cringing when I drop something on the floor.  Sometimes I also go so far as to chastise Lewis for not taking care when he steps.  Do we want the people underneath us to hate us?  And then I remember that there is no one underneath us.  My bad.

Our new digs.

Of course we did buy a town home, so there are people to the side of us.  Luckily, only one side.  This requires a different level of care.  The volume on the TV stays low, we avoid using our blender early in the morning, etc.  But then there was Jack.  Jack cries sometimes often.  And when he cries, he wails.  The kid is not quiet.  There is no way that our next door neighbors have not heard him.

They moved out last week.  I choose to believe that this is because they were living in a tiny house with two full-sized adults, three rambunctious boys, and two large and barky dogs and NOT because they were driven crazy by the seemingly traumatized infant next door.  Time will tell when new people move in.