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!

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!

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.

For your enjoyment, here's a random picture of Matthias from about a month ago.

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.

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.

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.