Conversation between Jonathan and Daddy...
Jonathan: Daddy, throw a fish at me!
Daddy: (looking around for a toy fish and finding none) A pretend fish?
Jonathan: (nodding) YES!!
Daddy: (pretends to throw a fish) Whap!
Jonathan: (bursts into tears and looks accusingly at Daddy) I need a kiss!
Daddy: What happened?
Jonathan: (between sobs) You hit me in the face with a fish!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
remaining calm
The thing about parenting is that it consistently throws you into situations for which you are wholly unprepared but about which you now must act quickly and decisively for the well being of someone you love more than life itself. And when you are staying home, the only job you have is to take care of these little ones. So when something goes wrong, it isn't hard to blame yourself and feel like a failure.
For example, over the past week Jonathan has developed a stutter and started saying "dammit" with alarming frequency. And Zoë has demonstrated that she is completely unwilling to drink from a bottle. I am not a speech therapist or a psychologist and we never had a problem introducing Jonathan to the bottle. I suspect that the stutter and the swearing are both related to the stress of the life changes that have recently befallen our little man- and that the best course of action is to remind him that swearing is rude, but to generally ignore them, pile on the TLC, and that this phase will naturally run its course. But there is a little voice in my head telling me that stutters can be lifelong, debilitating conditions and that my improper handling of it now could ruin Jonathan's life. I don't know what to do about the bottle issue, except to remain calm, warm, and loving, and to keep practicing and trying new bottles. But the little voice in my head keeps telling me that if I don't get this figured out, Zoë will starve to death when I go back to work.
I think the trick is to hold the potential seriousness of situations in mind while remaining calm and taking everything with a grain of salt. Yes, things need to be dealt with in a thoughtful manner with an eye to the future. But everything is a phase. And most things sort themselves out with time and patience. Or at least that is what I keep telling myself.
For example, over the past week Jonathan has developed a stutter and started saying "dammit" with alarming frequency. And Zoë has demonstrated that she is completely unwilling to drink from a bottle. I am not a speech therapist or a psychologist and we never had a problem introducing Jonathan to the bottle. I suspect that the stutter and the swearing are both related to the stress of the life changes that have recently befallen our little man- and that the best course of action is to remind him that swearing is rude, but to generally ignore them, pile on the TLC, and that this phase will naturally run its course. But there is a little voice in my head telling me that stutters can be lifelong, debilitating conditions and that my improper handling of it now could ruin Jonathan's life. I don't know what to do about the bottle issue, except to remain calm, warm, and loving, and to keep practicing and trying new bottles. But the little voice in my head keeps telling me that if I don't get this figured out, Zoë will starve to death when I go back to work.
I think the trick is to hold the potential seriousness of situations in mind while remaining calm and taking everything with a grain of salt. Yes, things need to be dealt with in a thoughtful manner with an eye to the future. But everything is a phase. And most things sort themselves out with time and patience. Or at least that is what I keep telling myself.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Beach
After a month of staying with us and being helpful in too many ways to count, my mom flew back to Minnesota this week. She's only been gone a few days and I miss her so much that it hurts. Not just for the practical help that she was- from staying up late to hold Zoë and let us get some sleep, to going grocery shopping, to playing silly games with Jonathan, etc- but also for the company. I love that my mom and I can stay up late talking about nothing and everything every night for a month and it never gets old. My relationship with her is something I cherish more than just about anything. And I seriously hope that I am able to be the kind of mother to Zoë that my mother is to me.
The last week that my mom was here, my dad also flew in and we all packed up for a trip to the beach! As stressful as it is to travel with small children (and despite some questionable weather), it was a wonderful and relaxing few days with family.
Thanks Mom and Dad! You guys are fantastic grandparents and the best parents a girl could have. I hope we can be half the parents that you guys are! Love you and miss you tons!!
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Zoë- 1 Month
So Zoë was one month old yesterday! I can't believe how time flies!! At the ripe old age of 1 month, the things that charaterize her experience (and ours) are eating, sleeping, crying and pooping. So here is the long and short of how that is going so far:
At 10.2 lbs, she is growing like crazy!! Having no other baby experience, I can't help but characterize her by comparing her to big brother. In my opinion, there is quite a family resemblance.
 |
| Newborn Jonathan |
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| Newborn Zoë |
But despite their looks, they have completely different philosophies about eating. If left to his own choices, Jonathan might starve to death because he is just to distracted to stop and eat. It took him a week after birth to learn how to nurse and he never had the patience to do so for more than 5 minutes. Zoë loves eating. Within 10 minutes of birth she had figured out how to nurse like a pro and did so for half an hour. She over-eats every time and then spits all the excess back up in sneaky gushes as soon as she sees the burp-cloth has slipped. We have started calling her Miss Vesuvius.
While she is by no stretch of the imagination sleeping through the night, she seems to have her days and nights sorted out and a natural bedtime of 8pm. Whether this is because by 8 Jonathan is asleep and the chaos around here subsides is hard to say, but it is fantastic for us. After her 8ish nursing, she usually is pretty easy to rock to sleep and will stay asleep once we lay her down in her bed (Fisher Price is genius. If only we'd had this for big brother). And from then until around 6am Zoë sleeps, waking up to nurse, but then going right back to sleep. Amazing.
Daytime sleep is something else, though. She fights naps a like a champ and, unlike her big brother, isn't lulled to sleep by nursing. So she is awake happily for about an hour after she eats, but then is overtired but can't put herself to sleep yet. So we end up rocking, bouncing, singing, walking, patting, shh-shhing, and watching her eyes blink slower and slower until they finally flutter shut. For about 5 minutes. Then they POP open and we are back to square one. And heaven forbid you set her down after she has fallen asleep.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Birth Story
So its been almost three weeks since Zoe was born and I am hoping that gives me a good balance between remembering her labor and delivery with some accuracy and having enough oxytocin built up in my system to have taken the harshest edges off my memories. So here goes...
Since it didn't result in a baby being born it wasn't true labor, but contractions began on Labor Day (Sept. 5). Strong enough and regular enough that I called my parents and was fully expecting to see our little princess that day. But she had other ideas. The contractions subsided somewhat, from every 10 min to 1 or 2 per hour for the next two weeks. Occasionally they would pick up again- every 10 min for an hour or two- and we would wonder, "Is this it?!?" But no. School started for me and life went on as normal, or as close to it as you can get when you are fully expecting your water might break at any moment.
I had my 39 week check-up on the 16th. I told the midwife I was sick and tired of pregnancy and really wanted to get things started, so she swept my membranes during the exam. I left telling her I hoped I would see her later that evening. And sure enough, contractions started again by dinnertime. We put Jonathan to bed and waited. They were getting closer and stronger and I was knew that this time was it. My mom booked a flight. Jim's parents were on red alert for coming over to watch Jonathan when we decided it was time to go. Around 9pm we went to bed, hoping to get a few hours of rest before things really got moving. Around 1:30am I woke up with enough discomfort that I wasn't able to sleep. Jim's parents came around 2:30 and we watched The Office for a few hours. At 6am we decided it was really time to go, so we headed to the hospital.
The midwife measured me at 4cm when we arrived. We did laps around L&D until 10am when they remeasured me to be at 5cm. And at that point I decided to quit; 4 hours per 1cm was not going to be an acceptable pace. I was exhausted- tired of the tease that my body had been giving me for the past two weeks. I realized that I hadn't really come to the hospital mentally prepared for what lay ahead. With Jonathan I was pumped- this was it and I was ready to take on childbirth and do it drug free. This time I was tired. Tired from being up since 1:30am, tired of being pregnant, tired of contractions, tired of waiting, tired of thinking "maybe this is it" and being wrong, tired of the anticipation.
So when Nell, the midwife, said she thought she should break my water to get labor back on track, I knew I needed to say yes. I knew that breaking my water would mean a sure path forward in this process. But it would also mean I would be facing a new level of pain and require a mental fortitude I wasn't sure I had. What I really wanted to do was say 'forget it, I quit', but quitting isn't really an option during labor. So I took a deep breath and said yes.
Nell broke my water and almost instantly I hit transition- hard. My contractions went from taking my breath away to making me scream. I had forgotten that feeling. The one that you are being pulled apart from the inside. The kind of pain that removes all capacity for rational thought and modesty. I got in the birthing tub and that helped, a little. And after about an hour, I was at 10cm and ready to push.
Because there had been meconium in the amniotic fluid, the pediatrician and nursery nurse were in the room as soon as I started pushing and wanted to get Zoe out fast (a mutual goal). With Jonathan pushing had been terrible; every push felt like horrible ripping pain. But this time it felt right; it felt like this was what my body needed to be doing. I could focus on pushing with each breath instead of the pain of each contraction. I pushed for about 20 minutes and then Nell said that since Zoe's heart rate was going down during the contractions, I needed to get her out in the next 2 pushes or she was going to do an episiotomy. That did it for me. Her head was out on the next push. And I was done. I saw Zoe laying on the bed next to me, umbilical cord still connecting us and I cried. I cried with relief that I was done. I cried for joy as I felt my heart expand. I cried with the wonderful and terrible knowledge that I loved this little one with the kind of love that will bear any pain and sacrifice everything without a second thought.
The pediatrician checked Zoe and she was great- 7lbs 15oz and 20" long. Her umbilical cord was twisted up like a telephone cord (presumably from her constant flips in utero) so that it was only 12" long instead of a typical 20" (hence the dropping heart rate). They handed her back to me and the rest of the world became a blur. This perfect little package, wrapped in the hospital receiving blanket, was finally here nothing else seemed to matter very much.
Since it didn't result in a baby being born it wasn't true labor, but contractions began on Labor Day (Sept. 5). Strong enough and regular enough that I called my parents and was fully expecting to see our little princess that day. But she had other ideas. The contractions subsided somewhat, from every 10 min to 1 or 2 per hour for the next two weeks. Occasionally they would pick up again- every 10 min for an hour or two- and we would wonder, "Is this it?!?" But no. School started for me and life went on as normal, or as close to it as you can get when you are fully expecting your water might break at any moment.
I had my 39 week check-up on the 16th. I told the midwife I was sick and tired of pregnancy and really wanted to get things started, so she swept my membranes during the exam. I left telling her I hoped I would see her later that evening. And sure enough, contractions started again by dinnertime. We put Jonathan to bed and waited. They were getting closer and stronger and I was knew that this time was it. My mom booked a flight. Jim's parents were on red alert for coming over to watch Jonathan when we decided it was time to go. Around 9pm we went to bed, hoping to get a few hours of rest before things really got moving. Around 1:30am I woke up with enough discomfort that I wasn't able to sleep. Jim's parents came around 2:30 and we watched The Office for a few hours. At 6am we decided it was really time to go, so we headed to the hospital.
The midwife measured me at 4cm when we arrived. We did laps around L&D until 10am when they remeasured me to be at 5cm. And at that point I decided to quit; 4 hours per 1cm was not going to be an acceptable pace. I was exhausted- tired of the tease that my body had been giving me for the past two weeks. I realized that I hadn't really come to the hospital mentally prepared for what lay ahead. With Jonathan I was pumped- this was it and I was ready to take on childbirth and do it drug free. This time I was tired. Tired from being up since 1:30am, tired of being pregnant, tired of contractions, tired of waiting, tired of thinking "maybe this is it" and being wrong, tired of the anticipation.
So when Nell, the midwife, said she thought she should break my water to get labor back on track, I knew I needed to say yes. I knew that breaking my water would mean a sure path forward in this process. But it would also mean I would be facing a new level of pain and require a mental fortitude I wasn't sure I had. What I really wanted to do was say 'forget it, I quit', but quitting isn't really an option during labor. So I took a deep breath and said yes.
Nell broke my water and almost instantly I hit transition- hard. My contractions went from taking my breath away to making me scream. I had forgotten that feeling. The one that you are being pulled apart from the inside. The kind of pain that removes all capacity for rational thought and modesty. I got in the birthing tub and that helped, a little. And after about an hour, I was at 10cm and ready to push.
Because there had been meconium in the amniotic fluid, the pediatrician and nursery nurse were in the room as soon as I started pushing and wanted to get Zoe out fast (a mutual goal). With Jonathan pushing had been terrible; every push felt like horrible ripping pain. But this time it felt right; it felt like this was what my body needed to be doing. I could focus on pushing with each breath instead of the pain of each contraction. I pushed for about 20 minutes and then Nell said that since Zoe's heart rate was going down during the contractions, I needed to get her out in the next 2 pushes or she was going to do an episiotomy. That did it for me. Her head was out on the next push. And I was done. I saw Zoe laying on the bed next to me, umbilical cord still connecting us and I cried. I cried with relief that I was done. I cried for joy as I felt my heart expand. I cried with the wonderful and terrible knowledge that I loved this little one with the kind of love that will bear any pain and sacrifice everything without a second thought.
The pediatrician checked Zoe and she was great- 7lbs 15oz and 20" long. Her umbilical cord was twisted up like a telephone cord (presumably from her constant flips in utero) so that it was only 12" long instead of a typical 20" (hence the dropping heart rate). They handed her back to me and the rest of the world became a blur. This perfect little package, wrapped in the hospital receiving blanket, was finally here nothing else seemed to matter very much.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Jonathan
In the whirlwind of excitement surrounding a new baby and all of those changes, it would be easy to forget the fantastic stage that Jonathan is at right now. Two and a half certainly has its challenges, and while we have our battles of willpower and tantrums, he is a completely charming and wonderful little boy. So here are some current highlights from the world of Jonathan:
Here he is today at a "Touch-A-Truck" event:
He started in a new preschool class earlier this month, and while I didn't get a first day of school picture, this is at least from the first month! He loves going to school and coming home to teach us how to do things like sit "criss-cross applesauce" or do the "head and shoulders" dance.
We have peanut-butter and honey sandwiches for lunch every day. He loves eating peanut-butter off of a spoon and when I say "here's some honey for my honey". He also continues to be the slowest eater of all time. 45 min on lunch today and he only made it through his sandwich and 3 out of 4 apple slices!
He loves reading. When Gramma pulled out a book today and said "Jonathan, I have a new book for you and Zoë", his response was to literally bounce up and down and say "That is so exciting!". He is currently fascinated by a book about a tiger called Augustus who lost his smile.
Oh, writing this makes me want to run upstairs right now, give him one more good night kiss and tickle his adorable little boy toes!!
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