Matthias, however, saw the picture and wanted me to fix it. He is already such a "people person;" perhaps he already sees business or politics in his future? God help us. But his expression is much improved, so that means something...
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Matthias wanted me to clarify...
A while ago my sister posted this picture of Matthias on her blog.
She is always razzing me because we went to rival schools, and I usually don't join in that much because I probably would have fit in better at "her" school, the agriculture college, than I did at mine, the "business-med school-lawyer" college. Water under the bridge; I'm just not that great of a participant in razzing.
Matthias, however, saw the picture and wanted me to fix it. He is already such a "people person;" perhaps he already sees business or politics in his future? God help us. But his expression is much improved, so that means something...
Matthias, however, saw the picture and wanted me to fix it. He is already such a "people person;" perhaps he already sees business or politics in his future? God help us. But his expression is much improved, so that means something...
Monday, December 10, 2012
We have an eater!
Matthias took his first spoonful of non-breastmilk food the other day. I chose peas. I'm not really sure why; maybe because they are somewhat bland, and I was in a hurry to get through the grocery store with my little guy who had just gotten a shot (although he was sleeping blissfully and had no troubles from it). Here are pictures:
The peas seemed to agree with him, and last night we tried carrots, which he liked slightly better. Although by these pictures it may look like Matthias hates peas, he did keep asking for more, so he must have liked them!
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| Okay.... |
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| Well, I guess I'll have some more. |
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| Why are we doing this, again? |
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| Okay, okay, I'll be a good boy and eat them. |
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
On being a burlap greenie...
So, most people who know me will be inclined to ask, "who's the burlap greenie?" Certainly not the conservative Christian, gun-toting, meat-eating, tractor-loving girl that writes this blog! Well....every once in a while Jon feels like he needs to label me a "burlap greenie." Like...occasionally we go to a restaurant and I think the vegetarian dish sounds good (or the meat just looks too suspect to eat!). Or I become a member of a food co-op. Or I drag him to a food co-op if we're in a "big city," where we stick out like sore thumbs in our non-environmentally-friendly clothing and non-organic smell (read: freshly showered).
Jon's latest fodder for my "burlap greenie-hood" is my use of cloth diapers. I was on the fence, initally. My sister used them sometimes with her girls, and I had friends who used them sometimes. I thought I might try them every once in a while....until Matthias started leaking through pretty much every diaper I put on him or getting a nasty rash from the ones that didn't leak. Even with the "ultra absorbent overnight" Pampers, I was often awakening at midnight to a very sad little boy who had soaked through the diaper, sleeper, blankets and crib sheet.
At that point I'm not sure what actually got me to try cloth. I figured they'd be worse, much worse, than disposables. After all, they're made of cloth, right? I started doing research and found out they were just darn cute. I guess that was it. Who could resist putting their baby in an "Einstein" diaper?
Plus...(drumroll, please) I haven't had any leaks with any of the cloth diapers I have tried so far. Any!! That means none!! I finally got brave enough to try a cloth overnight when I was at my parents' house a few nights ago. Same deal. No leaks, and we had one of our best nights in a long time!! That was with a Rumparooz diaper. If you want to know what Matthias wants for Christmas, it's another Rumparooz diaper!! Gradually I am cycling through different overnight options for him, but so far Rumparooz or the above Einstein diaper (bumGenius 4.0 in Albert) are the winners.
Jon's not thrilled at the amount of time I have spent researching/talking/raving about/washing the cloth diapers. But I think he's coming around! :)
Jon's latest fodder for my "burlap greenie-hood" is my use of cloth diapers. I was on the fence, initally. My sister used them sometimes with her girls, and I had friends who used them sometimes. I thought I might try them every once in a while....until Matthias started leaking through pretty much every diaper I put on him or getting a nasty rash from the ones that didn't leak. Even with the "ultra absorbent overnight" Pampers, I was often awakening at midnight to a very sad little boy who had soaked through the diaper, sleeper, blankets and crib sheet.
At that point I'm not sure what actually got me to try cloth. I figured they'd be worse, much worse, than disposables. After all, they're made of cloth, right? I started doing research and found out they were just darn cute. I guess that was it. Who could resist putting their baby in an "Einstein" diaper?
Jon's not thrilled at the amount of time I have spent researching/talking/raving about/washing the cloth diapers. But I think he's coming around! :)
Smiley Bug!!
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| Goofy Magee! |
Matthias took one look out the window and the hugest smile that a person could possibly have spread across his face. He began flapping his arms and hopping up and down in my arms with glee.
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| (Re-enactment) |
When Jon got home from work Matthias was just waking up from his nap. Jon winked, pointed, and gave a "click" noise to Baby. Baby went wild!! Flapping arms, nearly knocking his blanket out of the swing, greeted Daddy. Jon repeated the routine and got the same results.
Possibly a result of his good cheer, Matthias was hard to get to sleep last night. When I finally thought he was starting to droop, he got the hiccups. Apparently hiccups are hilarious, as he gave himself the giggles each time he "hicced." I just had to show Jon, and knew Matthias wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, so we went back in the bedroom and showed Daddy what was so funny.
Today Matthias has been much more contemplative and serious. Perhaps he has been thinking on what he saw today at MOPS. I was changing his diaper in a quiet room with two doors. In came another baby, nine months old, crawling to beat heck. He went right by Matthias without the dignity of a "hello," and promptly exited by the other door. I could see in Matthias' face what he was thinking: "Mind. Blown. Must. Try."I believe he's continued to plot since we got home, as while I was typing this he definitely made some big strides in the "scooting" department, coming over to the computer, pressing buttons and opening new windows. Now he is reclined in my lap, playing with my shirt and filling his pants. Speaking of which, stay tuned to hear all about our exciting new adventure with cloth diapers! Or, if you're like everyone else in my family and you're tired of hearing about them, just skip it. :)
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
5 months go by so quickly...
I don't have any actual '5 month' pictures yet. I was going to snap some, but I don't know where the camera went!! I don't have the motivation to hunt for it, either. I'm sure I will find it in time to go to my new nephew's baptism and Thanksgiving with my sister and her family this weekend. I can't wait! :D
However, I thought I'd post a few random pics that show how our "snuggabug" has grown!
Edit: Okay, I found the camera. I just am too lazy to delete the above stuff and think of something else to say.
In related news, Matthias had his first taste from a sippy cup last night. It was really cute. I had actually pumped some milk, which doesn't often happen, so I told Jon, "What if I just stuck some in this cup?" Here's how it went.
Matthias has also been enjoying his walker. I can put him in there and he keeps himself entertained while I make supper, eat, etc. It's quite entertaining for all of us!
We also got the chance to get to Fargo to visit my sister and her family for my nephew's baptism. Here are the two babies--one being 10 weeks old and one 5 months old! Matthias isn't that huge, I guess, huh?
Matthias was initially very excited to swim with his girl cousins:
But when the time came, he was so tuckered out that he only managed one short swimming session with Mommy.
He did have a lot of fun with his cousins, though...
Here are a few other random pictures I just haven't taken time to post.
However, I thought I'd post a few random pics that show how our "snuggabug" has grown!
Edit: Okay, I found the camera. I just am too lazy to delete the above stuff and think of something else to say.
In related news, Matthias had his first taste from a sippy cup last night. It was really cute. I had actually pumped some milk, which doesn't often happen, so I told Jon, "What if I just stuck some in this cup?" Here's how it went.
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| Ummy-nummy-nummy.... |
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| Now I know why babies usually wear bibs! |
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| He prefers to be "naked baby," anyway, though! |
Matthias was initially very excited to swim with his girl cousins:
Here are a few other random pictures I just haven't taken time to post.
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| This was taken shortly before Halloween, 4 1/2 months old or so. |
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| Here is Matthias the "card shark" with Daddy. |
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| Our little 90s-grunge-t shirt-with-a-flannel guy. |
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| Hmm...I'm not sure what this expression is. Not impressed? |
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
There's No Place Like Home...except Grandma's
In my grandma's house there is a felt-painted sign that says this. It's hung in the bathroom forever, along with the poem "I shall never pass this way again." I have always found both to be especially true, especially thought-provoking, and especially bittersweet.
My grandma has been living in a memory care facility for about the last year. She just couldn't live on her own anymore, as her mind has been attacked with a disease I would put on the very bottom of the list of "diseases that would be okay to have." Correction, it doesn't make the list of "okay" diseases, even if there was one.
For my whole rememberable life, this house was a place of refuge, the only place of refuge that was almost equal to that of my own home where I grew up. You know that feeling of "coming home." This house had that feeling. From the immaculately clean garage in which I would have gladly eaten a sandwich off the floor, to the entry way that smelled of...oh, I'm not sure, laundry detergent, my grandpa's aftershave, clean coats and boots in the closet? Anytime I smell anything even similar I am instantly transported back.
My sister and I were treated to hours of grandma-and-grandpa-time bliss. Here you see a couple mulleted children having a fun meal at Grandma's. I am the younger, less-mulleted one. I unfortunately don't remember many of her signature dishes, as my grandpa's diet was very restricted for many years, but I always begged for her mac-and-cheese. Creamy Velveeta, milk, and "wheel" pasta were the best!
As we got older, Grandpa began an epic search for a horse. Horse after horse would come visit their place on a trial basis, only to be sent back because of some quirk that could have proven detrimental to our safety. In 1995 I got a note from my grandpa for Christmas, along with a horse halter, saying that he promised me a horse in 1996. Probably my best, most memorable Christmas present ever. I still have both the halter and the note, although my friend Yeller passed away in 2003. Here's a picture of me on "Bud," one of the trial horses who turned out to buck when you cinched him up. No go!
My grandma has been living in a memory care facility for about the last year. She just couldn't live on her own anymore, as her mind has been attacked with a disease I would put on the very bottom of the list of "diseases that would be okay to have." Correction, it doesn't make the list of "okay" diseases, even if there was one.
As we got older, Grandpa began an epic search for a horse. Horse after horse would come visit their place on a trial basis, only to be sent back because of some quirk that could have proven detrimental to our safety. In 1995 I got a note from my grandpa for Christmas, along with a horse halter, saying that he promised me a horse in 1996. Probably my best, most memorable Christmas present ever. I still have both the halter and the note, although my friend Yeller passed away in 2003. Here's a picture of me on "Bud," one of the trial horses who turned out to buck when you cinched him up. No go!
Another rare treat at Grandma and Grandpa's was the four-wheeler. In the winter or summer, we always had a great time on that thing, Grandpa carefully showing us the ropes.
I can't even begin to chronicle the other fun times I've had with my grandparents over the years. Trips in their camper or motorhome, visits to my parents', Christmases, birthdays, and nearly every school program or musical gig that I ever had, they were there.
I remember having the knowledge that Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't be around forever. Morbid, I know, but a reality that was a very hard pill for a kid to swallow, as they faced ever-increasing health problems and the uncertainty of how long they (Grandpa, especially) would be healthy. I remember so many nights I'd go to sleep in their spare room, feeling a lump building in my throat as my grandma would call out, "Are you warm enough?" or some such thing. I have to treasure this, I always thought. I shall only pass this way once. I would breathe in the scent of the sheets on my bed, always so fresh no matter how long it had been since I had last stayed, and listen for my grandpa's snoring. Or I would kick my grandpa out of bed altogether and snuggle up, talking to my grandma late into the night.
My grandpa passed away in 2008, in his sleep, in his own home. I couldn't ask for anything better for him or hopefully for myself someday, but that only put a bittersweet coating on our family's hurt. I knew that things would continue to change--and that kind of change is never fun!
Today we moved my grandma into a more-skilled memory care facility. There were a lot of tears shed by all of us. Sweet baby Matthias was a pleasant distraction, but it was so hard to leave Grandma there.
I was fortunate enough to get to stay at her house the night before, something I had been looking forward to for oh-so-long. You see, at least for me, just being in that house helped me remember. It made those days closer. Somehow, even though she wasn't there, the house was still fresh, still smelled the same, and it was a comfort. This time I snuck away for a nap and found myself crying once again for the way things were, feeling so sad for my grandma who can't be in her beautiful home anymore, happy for my grandpa in heaven, happy for the memories, but longing for a rewind button. Of anything, it reminded me, "don't blink."
I borrowed the pictures from my grandma's house so I could try to show a glimpse of the memories. The picture below was taken when I was about 3, but it captures my grandparents in a way I love to remember them.
Monday, October 29, 2012
What a good boy am I!
It's been forever since I've updated; probably because I've procrastinated because I just haven't had time to sit down and write a "really good" post (see my post on perfection, which I don't know how to link here anyway).
This has happened before, but a few weeks ago it seemed like Matthias just "stopped." He seemed to stop learning new things for probably about a week. It didn't alarm me, but just caused me to become impatient for what he would learn next.
Well, for one thing, he learned to be a great traveler. Wednesday after Jon got home we left for Bismarck, where we stayed that night. Thursday morning he slept most of the way to Fargo with a short lunch and giggle break in-between. We stayed at my sister's house in Fargo and got to meet our precious new nephew, and then went on to Wahpeton Saturday for a wedding. Sunday morning we got up super-early and took off to Oslo, MN, near Grand Forks, to the little country church I went to during my college years. Unfortunately, Jon got sick and spent most of Sunday in bed at our hotel while I visited friends and family. We drove all the way from Grand Forks home on Monday....and I didn't mention: Matthias was a total trooper!! He either slept, visited with me or played with his toys the whole trip! He was so sweet. As an added bonus, his napping skills have improved immensely since we got home.
He has also learned to reach for things: everything, that is, including my face, Jon's beard, and anything that catches his eye on the changing table. I have been awakened more than one morning by soft, wet baby fingers on my face or in my mouth. It really is a delightful way to wake up.
Jon and I predict that he will add rolling from back to front to his increasing list of talents in the next few days.
This has happened before, but a few weeks ago it seemed like Matthias just "stopped." He seemed to stop learning new things for probably about a week. It didn't alarm me, but just caused me to become impatient for what he would learn next.
Well, for one thing, he learned to be a great traveler. Wednesday after Jon got home we left for Bismarck, where we stayed that night. Thursday morning he slept most of the way to Fargo with a short lunch and giggle break in-between. We stayed at my sister's house in Fargo and got to meet our precious new nephew, and then went on to Wahpeton Saturday for a wedding. Sunday morning we got up super-early and took off to Oslo, MN, near Grand Forks, to the little country church I went to during my college years. Unfortunately, Jon got sick and spent most of Sunday in bed at our hotel while I visited friends and family. We drove all the way from Grand Forks home on Monday....and I didn't mention: Matthias was a total trooper!! He either slept, visited with me or played with his toys the whole trip! He was so sweet. As an added bonus, his napping skills have improved immensely since we got home.
He has also learned to reach for things: everything, that is, including my face, Jon's beard, and anything that catches his eye on the changing table. I have been awakened more than one morning by soft, wet baby fingers on my face or in my mouth. It really is a delightful way to wake up.
Jon and I predict that he will add rolling from back to front to his increasing list of talents in the next few days.
Here are some pictures to update you:
"I tell ya, that fish was thiiiiis big!" Matthias and his friend and "birthday twin." That's right, these two cuties were born on the same day! I remember getting a text announcing Levi's birth that morning and feeling oh-so-jealous that my friend got to meet her little boy. Later that afternoon, my doctor told me I was going to stay in the hospital and have my baby! At 11:44 p.m. Matthias made his arrival!
"Here, let me fix that for you."
Matthias' new grabbing skill!
4 months old!
Daddy "arrested" him for being too cute!
Horrible picture of me, but it's the best one I have showing my favorite way to spend an evening these days!
Did I mention it's gotten cold outside? Matthias still loves his stroller rides, though!
Don't they look just alike?
This was one day I beat Matthias in the wake-up department.
I also discovered how to change the sheets while Matthias was in the bed!
This is a very rare quality picture taken by yours truly. I haven't gotten many pictures that I'm pleased with!
Monday, October 1, 2012
Matthias will hate me for this someday...or think it's really funny.
I have been using the wonderful camcorder Jon got me for Christmas to try to capture "notable moments" in Matthias' development. I'm really not that great with a camera (or the camcorder, for that matter), but figure at least that video form will capture his personality in a way that my substandard photographs fail to do.
In this video, I was trying to get Matthias to smile (it's kind of old), but I guess he had a good reason not to smile--he was busy with something else. I posted it on Facebook, so pretty much everyone that looks at this will have probably already seen it, but I thought it would be important for me to record for all posterity this funny moment.
In this video, I was trying to get Matthias to smile (it's kind of old), but I guess he had a good reason not to smile--he was busy with something else. I posted it on Facebook, so pretty much everyone that looks at this will have probably already seen it, but I thought it would be important for me to record for all posterity this funny moment.
I also plan to use it as a litmus test to scare off screen Matthias' future wife candidates. If the noises Matthias was capable of making at a tiny age are scary to a woman, or if it's the possibility of having offpsring that make such noises that scares her, this will both thin out the flaky candidates and inspire the worthy ones to get to know a guy who was able to make pooping so adorable at such a young age.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
On the quest for perfection....Warning: LONG...
So, today was a less-than-perfect day. Matthias was a bit fussy this morning, and I figured that as long as he had a good poop, a good burp, and a good feed, he would be ready for his new adventure--hanging out at the school for an hour while I taught music to the entire student body of three siblings.
Matthias accomplished the good burp and the good feeding, so we took off. I had a jam-packed, musical hour planned. Twenty minutes of music making, followed by twenty of music theory, followed by twenty of music appreciation. Perfect, I thought. I should have all my bases covered. When I arrived, though, I visited with the students for about 20 minutes while their teacher took a phone call. After all, I hadn't seen the kids since May, kids I've spent nine months each year for the past 5 years. We had some catching up to do.
The teacher got off the phone with the "powers that be" at the state education department who were displeased that some certain form hadn't been filled out in a certain way or on a certain date or something (I got soooo many of those calls!). I handed her my little baby bundle and figured on entertaining them with some review songs. Before long, I heard Matthias' customary scream of displeasure. I was really surprised, since I had successfully left him with a grandma-friend during my set at the Miles City bluegrass festival the weekend before. Maybe I hadn't fed him enough...or maybe that burp left a gigantic space in his belly that could only be satisifed by me. So I fed him, and the students went back to their schoolwork.
By the time I got back to my guitar, Matthias had started screaming once more. Long story short, he decided he wanted Mommy today, and only Mommy. We sang a few songs, and that was the music class for the day. I was disappointed.
That got me to thinking this evening about we humans' quest for perfection. We plan--or try to plan--everything in our lives down to each ridiculous minute. I was going to teach music today, and that was that. I was going to jam in Miles City until 9:30, and that was that. Other than those things, I have found myself refreshingly unperfectionistic lately. But I remember the days that I wasn't, and how hard it was. I remember teaching and reteaching concepts, only to have them met with blank stares. "(student) is a fourth grader," I thought. "(student) should know the difference between a small and a capital L." Today I found out that student, now a fair bit older, still hasn't mastered the concept.
There was the day that I would have gone home feeling like a failure. I wanted music to go differently. I wanted my student to learn his "L's." What could have I done to help Matthias feel at ease? Why did I fail?
That feeling extended into the rest of my life, as well, trying product after product because "this" was going to make my hair/skin/house/health perfect! All I ended up with was a closet full of junk that I never used.
No more! Whatever I could have done to keep Matthias from screaming, I didn't do it. Next time will be better. However I could have drilled it into my student's head to recognize the Ls, I didn't do it. He learned to excel at many other things. I didn't fail. No magic product is going to make my hair keep from breaking or my floors from getting dirty, either.
So many times I see people seeking perfection in every single thing. I used to wonder why I couldn't be more like that...learn not to make mistakes. Learn to try harder. Especially when perfection-seekers hinted that, whatever went wrong, could have been prevented if I had (fill in the blank). What I ended up learning is that there's no such thing as perfection in our lives here on Earth, and no amount of beating ourselves up will create it. A perfect day can happen, but it's not made by my own plans. Whatever I did beforehand, it wasn't preventable by the time that things stopped going according to plan. If there's anything having a child has taught me, it's that perfection has nothing to do with life going according to plan.
Matthias accomplished the good burp and the good feeding, so we took off. I had a jam-packed, musical hour planned. Twenty minutes of music making, followed by twenty of music theory, followed by twenty of music appreciation. Perfect, I thought. I should have all my bases covered. When I arrived, though, I visited with the students for about 20 minutes while their teacher took a phone call. After all, I hadn't seen the kids since May, kids I've spent nine months each year for the past 5 years. We had some catching up to do.
The teacher got off the phone with the "powers that be" at the state education department who were displeased that some certain form hadn't been filled out in a certain way or on a certain date or something (I got soooo many of those calls!). I handed her my little baby bundle and figured on entertaining them with some review songs. Before long, I heard Matthias' customary scream of displeasure. I was really surprised, since I had successfully left him with a grandma-friend during my set at the Miles City bluegrass festival the weekend before. Maybe I hadn't fed him enough...or maybe that burp left a gigantic space in his belly that could only be satisifed by me. So I fed him, and the students went back to their schoolwork.
By the time I got back to my guitar, Matthias had started screaming once more. Long story short, he decided he wanted Mommy today, and only Mommy. We sang a few songs, and that was the music class for the day. I was disappointed.
That got me to thinking this evening about we humans' quest for perfection. We plan--or try to plan--everything in our lives down to each ridiculous minute. I was going to teach music today, and that was that. I was going to jam in Miles City until 9:30, and that was that. Other than those things, I have found myself refreshingly unperfectionistic lately. But I remember the days that I wasn't, and how hard it was. I remember teaching and reteaching concepts, only to have them met with blank stares. "(student) is a fourth grader," I thought. "(student) should know the difference between a small and a capital L." Today I found out that student, now a fair bit older, still hasn't mastered the concept.
There was the day that I would have gone home feeling like a failure. I wanted music to go differently. I wanted my student to learn his "L's." What could have I done to help Matthias feel at ease? Why did I fail?
That feeling extended into the rest of my life, as well, trying product after product because "this" was going to make my hair/skin/house/health perfect! All I ended up with was a closet full of junk that I never used.
No more! Whatever I could have done to keep Matthias from screaming, I didn't do it. Next time will be better. However I could have drilled it into my student's head to recognize the Ls, I didn't do it. He learned to excel at many other things. I didn't fail. No magic product is going to make my hair keep from breaking or my floors from getting dirty, either.
So many times I see people seeking perfection in every single thing. I used to wonder why I couldn't be more like that...learn not to make mistakes. Learn to try harder. Especially when perfection-seekers hinted that, whatever went wrong, could have been prevented if I had (fill in the blank). What I ended up learning is that there's no such thing as perfection in our lives here on Earth, and no amount of beating ourselves up will create it. A perfect day can happen, but it's not made by my own plans. Whatever I did beforehand, it wasn't preventable by the time that things stopped going according to plan. If there's anything having a child has taught me, it's that perfection has nothing to do with life going according to plan.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
The Good Book
This is the book of which I speak. Not to be confused with the real Good Book, which Matthias will also get plenty of.
This is the face he gets--one of the faces he gets--when the book is read to him.
Okay, maybe it looks like he's less than thrilled. I don't have the knack with a camera that my sister does, so most of his photos end up with him looking scared or somewhat drugged. But in the tiny thumbnail that I previewed while choosing a picture, he looked exceedingly happy. Let's try again!
I have been working on getting him to smile and coo with glee while I record him, but, as with his photographs, you're going to have to take my word for it. He really does demonstrate pure glee when he reads this book! Great-Auntie Linda has some pictures that might show better proof, but until I have those, the above ones will have to serve as proof.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
When the lights go out...
I have heard of planned power outages before, and always thought it was a good idea that they're usually in the middle of the night. That was before Matthias!
It started when I woke up last night to pitch blackness. No clock, no light on in the hall, nothing. I felt disoriented, my north felt "west," etc. But Matthias was sleeping. I used to freak out if I woke up to pitch blackness, but thankfully that old anxiety has passed.
Then I heard the characteristic "uh, uh, uh" coming from his bassinet. "Shhhhh," I whispered (because that's about all I could say....I've been dealing with some laryngitis from the dusty harvest grain). Matthias persisted, until I opened the shade to let in some starlight and groped around to find him. By now Mom had awakened and I had begun having difficulty attaching him to my "feeding apparatus" in the pitch darkness. Mom brought a welcome flashlight, and Matthias was able to eat.
He ate, and I took him out to rock in the living room so he could go to sleep. All of a sudden I heard a strange noise coming from him, and I was covered with spit up, along with Matthias' gown. Mom once again came to the rescue with a flashlight, and we got him changed.
Since he had spit up so much, I figured I'd better fill him up again. Matthias spit up again, but thankfully missed himself and me. I put him in his bassinet and settled in for a blissful early-morning sleep. Then I heard it. It wasn't a dry one, but a wet one. Moms, you know what I'm talking about. I wrestled with my conscience, thinking that it MAY have POSSIBLY been dry....but I supposed I should check. My hand met nasty wetness as I picked him up, and a flashlight to the bassinet confirmed my suspicions. Enter Mom with the flashlight, and we began changing him in the dark.
Unfortunately, Matthias had another out-of-diaper experience....and another. Mom held 2 flashlights and I attempted to wipe Matthias' entire back, up to his neck. But we ran out of wipes. (Did I mention the power was still out? No lights, no water, no wipes.) I used the meager amount of water from the spigot to wet a washcloth, threw the dirty changing pad on the floor, and continued to clean Little Guy. Then I stepped on the changing pad!! Mom and I erupted with laughter and got Matthias his third gown of the night.
It was 6 am by my timepiece when I finally got to bed. This was one of those evenings that I dreaded before I had children. How did it turn into something I would write gleefully about and laugh about in the morning? (although 6 a.m. used to be my "morning")
You're probably thinking that this blog should be renamed Adventures with Baby Poop or something. I find it quite apt a subject, considering little boys are generally amused by such matters, although I'm pretty sure it's not something I want to encourage. I guess I've got to get it out of my system now!
It started when I woke up last night to pitch blackness. No clock, no light on in the hall, nothing. I felt disoriented, my north felt "west," etc. But Matthias was sleeping. I used to freak out if I woke up to pitch blackness, but thankfully that old anxiety has passed.
Then I heard the characteristic "uh, uh, uh" coming from his bassinet. "Shhhhh," I whispered (because that's about all I could say....I've been dealing with some laryngitis from the dusty harvest grain). Matthias persisted, until I opened the shade to let in some starlight and groped around to find him. By now Mom had awakened and I had begun having difficulty attaching him to my "feeding apparatus" in the pitch darkness. Mom brought a welcome flashlight, and Matthias was able to eat.
He ate, and I took him out to rock in the living room so he could go to sleep. All of a sudden I heard a strange noise coming from him, and I was covered with spit up, along with Matthias' gown. Mom once again came to the rescue with a flashlight, and we got him changed.
Since he had spit up so much, I figured I'd better fill him up again. Matthias spit up again, but thankfully missed himself and me. I put him in his bassinet and settled in for a blissful early-morning sleep. Then I heard it. It wasn't a dry one, but a wet one. Moms, you know what I'm talking about. I wrestled with my conscience, thinking that it MAY have POSSIBLY been dry....but I supposed I should check. My hand met nasty wetness as I picked him up, and a flashlight to the bassinet confirmed my suspicions. Enter Mom with the flashlight, and we began changing him in the dark.
Unfortunately, Matthias had another out-of-diaper experience....and another. Mom held 2 flashlights and I attempted to wipe Matthias' entire back, up to his neck. But we ran out of wipes. (Did I mention the power was still out? No lights, no water, no wipes.) I used the meager amount of water from the spigot to wet a washcloth, threw the dirty changing pad on the floor, and continued to clean Little Guy. Then I stepped on the changing pad!! Mom and I erupted with laughter and got Matthias his third gown of the night.
It was 6 am by my timepiece when I finally got to bed. This was one of those evenings that I dreaded before I had children. How did it turn into something I would write gleefully about and laugh about in the morning? (although 6 a.m. used to be my "morning")
You're probably thinking that this blog should be renamed Adventures with Baby Poop or something. I find it quite apt a subject, considering little boys are generally amused by such matters, although I'm pretty sure it's not something I want to encourage. I guess I've got to get it out of my system now!
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Who needs underwear? aka...A fun weekend in Miles City
Okay, perhaps the title grabbed you, and perhaps you figured I'm going to tell you about fun times I had at the Miles City Bucking Horse Sale. If you did, you're wrong. In fact, I've never been to the Bucking Horse Sale, and though I begged my husband to take me back when we were dating, he refused. Too much wild partying.
But I do love to spend time in Miles City, and this time I was visiting my friend Hannah and celebrating the release of my friend Erin's new CD, American Siberia, on which my fiddle playing can be heard on a couple of tracks. (sales pitch: If you're interested, let me know! I can hook you up!) It was a delightful evening in a small coffee shop/cafe, with an appreciative crowd, good acoustics, excellent musical company, and gigantic bowls of blueberry cobbler to boot.
Matthias stayed with Grammy, who was kind enough to drive down to MC with me, in Erin's apartment, which Erin was kind enough to open to a grandma, nursing mother, and baby.
It was fun to play with Erin and Keith again. Erin used to live around the corner from me in Sidney before she moved to MC, and Keith lives in California, so I treasure each time we get to play. To add to the fun, I was able to practice with the band Milestown, of which I am a part, the next morning.
You're wondering about the underwear. Okay, I'll tell you. I was getting all packed up to go, which is rather stressful with an infant. It's not quite as stressful as with a pet, but still quite stressful. (Side story: I once went to my parents' house with a rabbit, a kitten I was nursing with a bottle, and my horse. It was raining/sleeting the whole way home. Not fun with a horse trailer, a mewing kitten, and a rabbit angrily "thumping" in his cage.) Anyway, it's a lot easier to get diapers (or maybe use leaves) if you run out/forget them than it is to find the exact kind of hay, the right kitten formula, or rabbit litter.
You're still wondering about the underwear. Okay. Well, anyway, I have been astounded at Matthias' growth lately, and since I'm one who is used to wearing clothes to shreds before replacing them, I figured I'd do the same with baby clothes. But it's impossible! He outgrows them too fast! So I was going through his clothes and just couldn't decide what I wanted him to wear before he outgrew it....So.....
This happened. I didn't realize how much I had actually packed for him to wear for a simple overnight trip. Oops. No problem, except that I forgot to pack myself a change of underwear, socks, and pajamas. I also figured on wearing the same jeans the next day, which isn't a good plan because you might spill something on those jeans!
Matthias was entirely unaffected by my clothes gaffe, and enjoyed his time in Miles City (who doesn't enjoy a trip to Miles City? They have the Rib & Chop House, Murdoch's, shave ice, old buildings . . . ). I was thankful our hotel had a blow dryer for me to dry my clothes that I'd washed the night before, and that there was a Wal-Mart right down the road where I could get a pair of socks since I couldn't get them dry enough to wear. There may be a short time period in which I could conceivably fit in my son's clothes in a pinch, but I'm not going to count on it. I've just got to figure out how to be a better packer. But as I told my mom, at least I didn't forget my toothbrush this time!
But I do love to spend time in Miles City, and this time I was visiting my friend Hannah and celebrating the release of my friend Erin's new CD, American Siberia, on which my fiddle playing can be heard on a couple of tracks. (sales pitch: If you're interested, let me know! I can hook you up!) It was a delightful evening in a small coffee shop/cafe, with an appreciative crowd, good acoustics, excellent musical company, and gigantic bowls of blueberry cobbler to boot.
Matthias stayed with Grammy, who was kind enough to drive down to MC with me, in Erin's apartment, which Erin was kind enough to open to a grandma, nursing mother, and baby.
It was fun to play with Erin and Keith again. Erin used to live around the corner from me in Sidney before she moved to MC, and Keith lives in California, so I treasure each time we get to play. To add to the fun, I was able to practice with the band Milestown, of which I am a part, the next morning.
You're wondering about the underwear. Okay, I'll tell you. I was getting all packed up to go, which is rather stressful with an infant. It's not quite as stressful as with a pet, but still quite stressful. (Side story: I once went to my parents' house with a rabbit, a kitten I was nursing with a bottle, and my horse. It was raining/sleeting the whole way home. Not fun with a horse trailer, a mewing kitten, and a rabbit angrily "thumping" in his cage.) Anyway, it's a lot easier to get diapers (or maybe use leaves) if you run out/forget them than it is to find the exact kind of hay, the right kitten formula, or rabbit litter.
You're still wondering about the underwear. Okay. Well, anyway, I have been astounded at Matthias' growth lately, and since I'm one who is used to wearing clothes to shreds before replacing them, I figured I'd do the same with baby clothes. But it's impossible! He outgrows them too fast! So I was going through his clothes and just couldn't decide what I wanted him to wear before he outgrew it....So.....
Matthias was entirely unaffected by my clothes gaffe, and enjoyed his time in Miles City (who doesn't enjoy a trip to Miles City? They have the Rib & Chop House, Murdoch's, shave ice, old buildings . . . ). I was thankful our hotel had a blow dryer for me to dry my clothes that I'd washed the night before, and that there was a Wal-Mart right down the road where I could get a pair of socks since I couldn't get them dry enough to wear. There may be a short time period in which I could conceivably fit in my son's clothes in a pinch, but I'm not going to count on it. I've just got to figure out how to be a better packer. But as I told my mom, at least I didn't forget my toothbrush this time!
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Out-of-diaper experiences
So, last night was pretty good. Matthias finished gorging himself at 10ish, and I went to make Jon's lunch because I've finally figured out that it takes 2 or 3 trips to the crib to put his pacifier back in before he really, truly settles.
I didn't awaken until 3! Matthias had gone 5 hours without food! That was worth the rough evening of constant eating. He ate until about 3:30, switched sides, ate some more, and then began to poop. Now, you experienced parents are going to laugh at me for even thinking of changing him right away, but I had two things on my mind: getting back to bed, and not wanting to leave my child in his own feces for too long. If I went back to sleep hanging over the crib, that might have happened. So I decided to take the gamble. Poop roulette, really. Sure enough, the projectile poop came just as I had removed the old diaper, but Grammy taught me such a handy trick that all of it still went into the diaper; crib and sleeper were left unharmed.
I quickly got the new diaper on. By this time Matthias was blissfully sleeping and let out a blissful, long toot. Well, dangit. I didn't want to turn the light on and wake him up, so I got to thinking of the old days at the Dakota Theatre (not "theater", also known by some as the "show hall. Gonna resurrect that term, I think. Anyway....). I'm sure my sister can remember Steve or one of the high school employees coming around with a red-tinted flashlight, flashing it at those hoodlums in the back row who were wearing caps, talking, had their feet on the seats in front of them, etc. I went and got my flashlight, and in movie-theater style did my inspection. "Any poop in there?" I whispered. None! I couldn't believe my good fortune as I went back to bed.....
and lay there. I couldn't get back to sleep! My 4 consecutive hours had so energized me that I couldn't get back to sleep! I started thinking of this blog post and of solutions to the problems associated with the oil field. Sometime around 4:30 I drifted off and dreamed I was with many of my high school classmates performing a dance routine for the Olympics, or maybe America's Got Talent.
Matthias slept until 6:30ish, when we repeated the routine from the middle of the night (the diaper routine, not the dance routine). This time the poop landed everywhere....mostly my hand, but also the towel and on him. I reached for a wipe and he began peeing. Speaking of which, Maria, how do you properly clean a Sleep Sheep? Not that any of your kids would have ever peed on him. Just wait for that. But when all was said and done, Matthias seemed to have enjoyed his out-of-diaper experiences, and cooed and smiled gleefully.
I didn't awaken until 3! Matthias had gone 5 hours without food! That was worth the rough evening of constant eating. He ate until about 3:30, switched sides, ate some more, and then began to poop. Now, you experienced parents are going to laugh at me for even thinking of changing him right away, but I had two things on my mind: getting back to bed, and not wanting to leave my child in his own feces for too long. If I went back to sleep hanging over the crib, that might have happened. So I decided to take the gamble. Poop roulette, really. Sure enough, the projectile poop came just as I had removed the old diaper, but Grammy taught me such a handy trick that all of it still went into the diaper; crib and sleeper were left unharmed.
I quickly got the new diaper on. By this time Matthias was blissfully sleeping and let out a blissful, long toot. Well, dangit. I didn't want to turn the light on and wake him up, so I got to thinking of the old days at the Dakota Theatre (not "theater", also known by some as the "show hall. Gonna resurrect that term, I think. Anyway....). I'm sure my sister can remember Steve or one of the high school employees coming around with a red-tinted flashlight, flashing it at those hoodlums in the back row who were wearing caps, talking, had their feet on the seats in front of them, etc. I went and got my flashlight, and in movie-theater style did my inspection. "Any poop in there?" I whispered. None! I couldn't believe my good fortune as I went back to bed.....
and lay there. I couldn't get back to sleep! My 4 consecutive hours had so energized me that I couldn't get back to sleep! I started thinking of this blog post and of solutions to the problems associated with the oil field. Sometime around 4:30 I drifted off and dreamed I was with many of my high school classmates performing a dance routine for the Olympics, or maybe America's Got Talent.
Matthias slept until 6:30ish, when we repeated the routine from the middle of the night (the diaper routine, not the dance routine). This time the poop landed everywhere....mostly my hand, but also the towel and on him. I reached for a wipe and he began peeing. Speaking of which, Maria, how do you properly clean a Sleep Sheep? Not that any of your kids would have ever peed on him. Just wait for that. But when all was said and done, Matthias seemed to have enjoyed his out-of-diaper experiences, and cooed and smiled gleefully.
For your enjoyment, here's a random picture of Matthias from about a month ago.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Wanted: Stinky Mommy
So, for the past 8 weeks I've been priding myself on how "easy-going" and just plain "easy" Matthias is. He is smily, sweet and loves to coo. He only cries if he's hungry, gassy, or has a poopy diaper. He loves books, stuffed animals, eating, music (specifically bluegrass and old country), riding in his swing, cuddling, eating, his bath, being kissed, eating, being tickled....phew! In this past week he has progressed to a refreshing 3-hour eating schedule. Last night he even went 4 hours! Wow, I say! I must have even gotten 8 hours of sleep (in increments) last night. Right now Matthias and I are having a gleeful conversation on the floor.
Why, then, does he also want to have a smelly mother? It's beyond me. You see, Matthias protests loudly whenever I hit the shower....and I mean loudly. I generally feed him, settle him in with Jon, and make a break for the soapy goodness and alone time. It's always about the time my hair is soapy with shampoo that I hear the first cries. Of course I know he just ate and that his daddy isn't pinching him, but I can't help but hurry up a bit. Maybe he is still hungry. Maybe...well, the only thing his dad can't provide for him is food. So he must still be hungry. To be fair, he is usually happy by the time I get out of the shower, but he has been crying, and that is something I never understood until actually having a baby--that if he is crying, he must be comforted immediately. His crying is actually both emotionally and physically painful to me! How marvelously God made us mothers to care so much for our babies, huh?
Anyway, he didn't do this when I left him with his dad so I could ride horse. He doesn't do this when I go do laundry and snuggle my cat downstairs. He only does this when I hit the shower, regradless of the time of day. So I can only conclude that he is a "back to nature" type who would rather smell his mother's armpits than her Bath & Body Works.
Why, then, does he also want to have a smelly mother? It's beyond me. You see, Matthias protests loudly whenever I hit the shower....and I mean loudly. I generally feed him, settle him in with Jon, and make a break for the soapy goodness and alone time. It's always about the time my hair is soapy with shampoo that I hear the first cries. Of course I know he just ate and that his daddy isn't pinching him, but I can't help but hurry up a bit. Maybe he is still hungry. Maybe...well, the only thing his dad can't provide for him is food. So he must still be hungry. To be fair, he is usually happy by the time I get out of the shower, but he has been crying, and that is something I never understood until actually having a baby--that if he is crying, he must be comforted immediately. His crying is actually both emotionally and physically painful to me! How marvelously God made us mothers to care so much for our babies, huh?
Anyway, he didn't do this when I left him with his dad so I could ride horse. He doesn't do this when I go do laundry and snuggle my cat downstairs. He only does this when I hit the shower, regradless of the time of day. So I can only conclude that he is a "back to nature" type who would rather smell his mother's armpits than her Bath & Body Works.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Me? A Parent?
So, it's likely that none of the following is going to come as any surprise to any parent out there, so this is truly not an original post with any kind of original ideas--just my affirmation and acknowledgement of things already presented to me. Really, I should be taking a nap, since I haven't had one today. But it seems like every time I lie down to rest, I get to thinking of these things I think I need to write down.
I definitely can say I did not enter motherhood unwillingly. In fact, being a full-time, stay-at-home mother was my vision for an ideal life from the time I was in college (and probably before). However, dreams don't seem to always be the "ideal" that we envision. Sometimes, however, they do surprise us--like my five-year gig at the country school. I went into it with the attitude that I would enjoy it for a year, but there must be drawbacks. Indeed, I look back and I think about the challenges I faced and can't imagine doing it again. But at the time I knew there was nothing in the world I would rather be doing. Even then I knew it would be a temporary job; I just didn't know how long it would last. But I enjoyed every minute.
My eagerness to abandon school after every 9-month term, along with my satisfaction knowing it was a temporary position concerned me when it came to the idea of having a family. Sure, I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, but did I really know what that meant? Even the job I loved beyond belief was temporary, able to be declined at contract renewal time if I deemed it desirable. This motherhood thing, I was told, is 24/7. For one, I honestly, truly am not a "kid" person. Despite the risk of sounding like a horrible person, I will leave that explanation for some other time. Suffice it to say that I enjoy being around well-mannered children in small doses and don't enjoy feeling like I either have to raise someone else's kids or bite a hole in my tongue.
That being said, how could I possibly have my own children? I, who shirk at the idea of wiping a poopy butt, shiver and wipe my hand at the contact of teething drool; I, who am prone to grin and say "cute" to the picture of a baby, while thinking it looks the same as the other 10 babies on Facebook? I, who could barely function on 8 hours of straight sleep?
You're probably thinking that it was an incredibly irresponsible decision for someone like me to procreate. Indeed, I had my doubts a long time before the pregnancy. I saw how tired and drug-out my "mommy" peers were. The discussion of bodily fluids emitted by these tiny creatures scared me. The very idea of labor and giving birth was a combination of some of my worst fears.
But somehow I kept hearing over and over again, "It's different when they're your own." I clung to that idea as we began our journey toward parenthood, and it has rung true, indescribably true.
I knew it was true when they put my crying, gooey baby Matthias in my arms and he became silent, gazing at me. I knew it was true when we brought him home and he began to pee, fountain-style, on the bedspread and I reached my hand up to block the stream. I know it's true at night, when it's the third time I've been up with him and I finally get to sleep, but rather than run back to bed I stand in awe of how indescribably precious he is.
Wow. That got long. Anyway, the whole start of this lengthy post began when I went to take a nap, as Matthias was also sleeping. He made a sweet little "purr" type noise in his sleep, and my heart melted, thinking that, instead of looking forward to a school year ending and getting some "me" time, I can look forward to every new thing I'll learn about him as he grows, all the challenges and changes we face, and remember that each challenge is temporary. Someday he'll sleep through the night; but by then he won't be tiny like this. Someday he'll talk, but he'll no longer coo and smile his toothless grin. I remind myself of this at 2 a.m. when I'm feeding him...that every day I do this is one less day to enjoy a tiny baby and one step toward enjoying an older child. Despite the challenges, each stage must be enjoyed to its fullest.
I definitely can say I did not enter motherhood unwillingly. In fact, being a full-time, stay-at-home mother was my vision for an ideal life from the time I was in college (and probably before). However, dreams don't seem to always be the "ideal" that we envision. Sometimes, however, they do surprise us--like my five-year gig at the country school. I went into it with the attitude that I would enjoy it for a year, but there must be drawbacks. Indeed, I look back and I think about the challenges I faced and can't imagine doing it again. But at the time I knew there was nothing in the world I would rather be doing. Even then I knew it would be a temporary job; I just didn't know how long it would last. But I enjoyed every minute.
My eagerness to abandon school after every 9-month term, along with my satisfaction knowing it was a temporary position concerned me when it came to the idea of having a family. Sure, I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, but did I really know what that meant? Even the job I loved beyond belief was temporary, able to be declined at contract renewal time if I deemed it desirable. This motherhood thing, I was told, is 24/7. For one, I honestly, truly am not a "kid" person. Despite the risk of sounding like a horrible person, I will leave that explanation for some other time. Suffice it to say that I enjoy being around well-mannered children in small doses and don't enjoy feeling like I either have to raise someone else's kids or bite a hole in my tongue.
That being said, how could I possibly have my own children? I, who shirk at the idea of wiping a poopy butt, shiver and wipe my hand at the contact of teething drool; I, who am prone to grin and say "cute" to the picture of a baby, while thinking it looks the same as the other 10 babies on Facebook? I, who could barely function on 8 hours of straight sleep?
You're probably thinking that it was an incredibly irresponsible decision for someone like me to procreate. Indeed, I had my doubts a long time before the pregnancy. I saw how tired and drug-out my "mommy" peers were. The discussion of bodily fluids emitted by these tiny creatures scared me. The very idea of labor and giving birth was a combination of some of my worst fears.
But somehow I kept hearing over and over again, "It's different when they're your own." I clung to that idea as we began our journey toward parenthood, and it has rung true, indescribably true.
I knew it was true when they put my crying, gooey baby Matthias in my arms and he became silent, gazing at me. I knew it was true when we brought him home and he began to pee, fountain-style, on the bedspread and I reached my hand up to block the stream. I know it's true at night, when it's the third time I've been up with him and I finally get to sleep, but rather than run back to bed I stand in awe of how indescribably precious he is.
Wow. That got long. Anyway, the whole start of this lengthy post began when I went to take a nap, as Matthias was also sleeping. He made a sweet little "purr" type noise in his sleep, and my heart melted, thinking that, instead of looking forward to a school year ending and getting some "me" time, I can look forward to every new thing I'll learn about him as he grows, all the challenges and changes we face, and remember that each challenge is temporary. Someday he'll sleep through the night; but by then he won't be tiny like this. Someday he'll talk, but he'll no longer coo and smile his toothless grin. I remind myself of this at 2 a.m. when I'm feeding him...that every day I do this is one less day to enjoy a tiny baby and one step toward enjoying an older child. Despite the challenges, each stage must be enjoyed to its fullest.
Not another mommy-blogger....
Well, after telling myself over and over that once I had kids I just wouldn't--couldn't--start a blog, I decided to try it. You see, I've really enjoyed reading my sister's and friends' blogs, but figured I have enough hobbies as it is. My writing style has deteriorated immensely since the advent of my last blog, "Confessions of a Country Girl," which I created as a journal of my one-room school teaching days but rapidly evolved into a place for me to complain about my relationships (albeit in a witty way).
Now that I'm happily married and have had our first child (whoda thunk THAT would have ever happened based on my old blog?!), I thought there might be a better place than Facebook for me to share pictures and happenings of our family. If this is like most things I plan to do (save for music and horseback riding), I will rarely update it and it will become another thorn in my side on my to-do list. But hey, it's worth a try, and it wouldn't hurt for me to revamp my writing skills a bit, as I plan on homeschooling in just a few short years.
The Man of the House will likely not consent to having his picture on this blog. I will likely follow suit. However, our adorable baby boy has no say in the matter. You'll be seeing a lot of him, along with possibly the occasional picture of our (my) cat, horse, or (Jon's) dog.
For starters, though, here's a picture of my cute kitty, Teddy, after he climbed halfway up our house.
Here's another cute one of our baby boy, who seems to be habitually afraid of the camera.
Now that I'm happily married and have had our first child (whoda thunk THAT would have ever happened based on my old blog?!), I thought there might be a better place than Facebook for me to share pictures and happenings of our family. If this is like most things I plan to do (save for music and horseback riding), I will rarely update it and it will become another thorn in my side on my to-do list. But hey, it's worth a try, and it wouldn't hurt for me to revamp my writing skills a bit, as I plan on homeschooling in just a few short years.
The Man of the House will likely not consent to having his picture on this blog. I will likely follow suit. However, our adorable baby boy has no say in the matter. You'll be seeing a lot of him, along with possibly the occasional picture of our (my) cat, horse, or (Jon's) dog.
For starters, though, here's a picture of my cute kitty, Teddy, after he climbed halfway up our house.
Here's another cute one of our baby boy, who seems to be habitually afraid of the camera.
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