Coltrane is walking. I mean walking. Across the room. To get to things like my soda and cell phone. That are sitting next to each other. Bad Mommy!
It really is amazing to watch a baby, sorry, toddler, learn and develop daily. Just last week he was tentatively taking a step or two before making use of his diaper cushioned butt. Now he's doing his best Frankenstein impression from one side of the living room to the other. Unless, of course, something gets in his way. He hasn't figured out how to get around things.
So a walking 10-month-old who also thinks it's hilarious when you say, no. And it is REALLY gut busting if you yell NO! I am learning that patience is truly a virtue.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Vacation Time, Vacation Time, Vuh, Vuh, Vacation Time
Well, all four of us survived our first family vacation. Heck, we even had fun.
John's band, Landslide, had a gig last Saturday, so we went to that before heading down to Virginia. The gig was a block party in the lead singer's neighborhood. The kids and I camped out on a blanket to take in the music. Things got off to a tricky start when Leila pooped through her clothes and the front pack all the way to my shirt, but the rest of the evening did not go as messily. CJ even did some dancing!
The kids were in PJs and asleep as we took off around 10 PM. It made for a long night, but the lure of no traffic and sleeping kids made driving all night worth it. John ended up playing the hero when we came along a car on its side. Don't worry, the driver was just fine.
When John and I slide into bed around 4 AM all we could look forward to was napping on the beach the next day. It was not meant to be though. It was rainy and windy on Sunday. We all made a valiant attempt to stay on the beach, but it was not meant to be. Fortunately, Monday and Tuesday boded better.
CJ really took to the water.
Leila mostly slept in the shade. Though she enjoyed herself too.
Things took a small turn for the worst though on Wednesday when poor CJ came down with the cold that seem to make the rounds through several of our group's members. We made the most of it though by going to the visitors' center on the wildlife refuge and the pony center. Even sick, CJ enjoyed the touch pool and ponies.
The rest of the week was spent enjoying the sun and the surf. I will admit packing for a family of four was much more epic than just for one or two, especially with two babies, and maybe previous vacations were more relaxing, but we have been dreaming of family vacations for many years now. Our first one was more than all of those dreams combined.
John's band, Landslide, had a gig last Saturday, so we went to that before heading down to Virginia. The gig was a block party in the lead singer's neighborhood. The kids and I camped out on a blanket to take in the music. Things got off to a tricky start when Leila pooped through her clothes and the front pack all the way to my shirt, but the rest of the evening did not go as messily. CJ even did some dancing!
The kids were in PJs and asleep as we took off around 10 PM. It made for a long night, but the lure of no traffic and sleeping kids made driving all night worth it. John ended up playing the hero when we came along a car on its side. Don't worry, the driver was just fine.
When John and I slide into bed around 4 AM all we could look forward to was napping on the beach the next day. It was not meant to be though. It was rainy and windy on Sunday. We all made a valiant attempt to stay on the beach, but it was not meant to be. Fortunately, Monday and Tuesday boded better.
Things took a small turn for the worst though on Wednesday when poor CJ came down with the cold that seem to make the rounds through several of our group's members. We made the most of it though by going to the visitors' center on the wildlife refuge and the pony center. Even sick, CJ enjoyed the touch pool and ponies.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
The Day in the Life
Well, we've been a family of four (humans that is) for a month now, and as much as possible we have settled into a "routine". I use quotes because I am not much of a routine person to begin with, and the chaos of two infants hasn't made me more so. But there is a sameness to each day.
John, the masochist, gets up around 5 AM, I swear, walks and feeds our pack of dogs, then runs. I seriously don't understand. I admire but don't understand. Oh, I forgot. Sometime between 4 AM and 6 AM, CJ gets up. John, because I was up with Leila anywhere from 2 AM to 3 AM, brings him over to our room, gives him a bottle which, thank the sweet formula gods, puts him back to sleep. John leaves for work with a kiss and a have a good day, around 7 AM.
*Note: This is a day on my own. God bless them, many a day, my mom, sister or mother-in-law will show up at this ungodly hour to lend many much needed hands.
Somewhere between then and 8 AM or 9, CJ decides it is time to get up, and lets me know it, usually with a giggle and a pull of the hair. Then I spend some time dragging him away from the pillow barriers John made before he left while playing. Leila gets up somewhere in there, and the juggling of the breastfeeding and saving the crawler from tumbling off the bed begins. (If I am lucky I can get him onto the floor with his toys before I have to feed Little Miss.) If I have been good, I get in the shower before 10. This is my free time. Sort of. Usually Leila starts crying the moment I get my foot in the shower, so I clean myself as quickly as possible, then do some naked wet baby nourishing. Hey, I didn't say it was all gonna be pretty.
After everyone is dressed, I make three trips downstairs, one for each baby then one for all the of accouterments of the night, bottles, coolers, etc. These are the first trips of many of the day. This is called my workout. Once downstairs, CJ and I get some breakfast, then if it is not too ridiculously hot and humid, we attempt a walk. Thank goodness for strategically placed park benches because Leila can't seem to make it more than 20 minutes without needing a breast.
Then most of the day is the typical trying to get everyone fed, napping, changed, played, and not injured. Sometimes we even venture out of the house maybe all the way to Target, though, again, we usually have company, as Mom and Alex are addicted to my children and must get a fix at least every other day. Barbara's distance makes her a little more immune, but not much. She's here at least once a week.
Of course, I can't blame them. I am the worst addict.
John gets home around 6 or 6:30 depending on whether he makes the mistake of calling and getting a list of errands. Somehow we managed to get everyone fed and bathed and played with and read to and sung to before the Battle of Bedtime commences. If fighting sleep was an Olympic sport, CJ would be the next Michael Phelps. The boy's willpower to stay awake is something to behold. But even he has to collapse eventually. Leila, fortunately, is easier. More boobie and a bottle between 8 and 9, and she's good until 2 or 3. I know! Lucky, right?
And we are. Extremely lucky. Being a parent is the hardest job on the planet, but it is the most rewarding. No one event has ever changed my outlook on the world so quickly and assuredly. Even though there are other aspects to me, Mom is not infused in all of them. All of my relationships are more intense, even more meaningful because of my children. I didn't think I could be closer to my husband, my mother, my sister, my in-laws, my cousin, my aunt, yet now the love we all have for Coltrane and Leila binds us even more.
It's the coolest thing ever.
John, the masochist, gets up around 5 AM, I swear, walks and feeds our pack of dogs, then runs. I seriously don't understand. I admire but don't understand. Oh, I forgot. Sometime between 4 AM and 6 AM, CJ gets up. John, because I was up with Leila anywhere from 2 AM to 3 AM, brings him over to our room, gives him a bottle which, thank the sweet formula gods, puts him back to sleep. John leaves for work with a kiss and a have a good day, around 7 AM.
*Note: This is a day on my own. God bless them, many a day, my mom, sister or mother-in-law will show up at this ungodly hour to lend many much needed hands.
Somewhere between then and 8 AM or 9, CJ decides it is time to get up, and lets me know it, usually with a giggle and a pull of the hair. Then I spend some time dragging him away from the pillow barriers John made before he left while playing. Leila gets up somewhere in there, and the juggling of the breastfeeding and saving the crawler from tumbling off the bed begins. (If I am lucky I can get him onto the floor with his toys before I have to feed Little Miss.) If I have been good, I get in the shower before 10. This is my free time. Sort of. Usually Leila starts crying the moment I get my foot in the shower, so I clean myself as quickly as possible, then do some naked wet baby nourishing. Hey, I didn't say it was all gonna be pretty.
After everyone is dressed, I make three trips downstairs, one for each baby then one for all the of accouterments of the night, bottles, coolers, etc. These are the first trips of many of the day. This is called my workout. Once downstairs, CJ and I get some breakfast, then if it is not too ridiculously hot and humid, we attempt a walk. Thank goodness for strategically placed park benches because Leila can't seem to make it more than 20 minutes without needing a breast.
Then most of the day is the typical trying to get everyone fed, napping, changed, played, and not injured. Sometimes we even venture out of the house maybe all the way to Target, though, again, we usually have company, as Mom and Alex are addicted to my children and must get a fix at least every other day. Barbara's distance makes her a little more immune, but not much. She's here at least once a week.
Of course, I can't blame them. I am the worst addict.
John gets home around 6 or 6:30 depending on whether he makes the mistake of calling and getting a list of errands. Somehow we managed to get everyone fed and bathed and played with and read to and sung to before the Battle of Bedtime commences. If fighting sleep was an Olympic sport, CJ would be the next Michael Phelps. The boy's willpower to stay awake is something to behold. But even he has to collapse eventually. Leila, fortunately, is easier. More boobie and a bottle between 8 and 9, and she's good until 2 or 3. I know! Lucky, right?
And we are. Extremely lucky. Being a parent is the hardest job on the planet, but it is the most rewarding. No one event has ever changed my outlook on the world so quickly and assuredly. Even though there are other aspects to me, Mom is not infused in all of them. All of my relationships are more intense, even more meaningful because of my children. I didn't think I could be closer to my husband, my mother, my sister, my in-laws, my cousin, my aunt, yet now the love we all have for Coltrane and Leila binds us even more.
It's the coolest thing ever.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Introducing Leila and When Parenting is Different
All in all, Leila came into the world in a pretty straightforward way. John and I were at the hospital bright and early (5:30 in the AM) on Monday June 14th, and she was here by 7:30 at 7 lbs 11 oz, 19.5 inches, which because the universe likes order, were CJ's exact measurements at birth. John got to see her being born, and I got a brief kiss before they took her to the nursery while the surgery was finished. John went with her.
I finally got to really hold her around 9 AM. I think the picture speaks for itself.
John kind of likes her too.
And finally, the family was all together.
We've been home for a week, and so far, things are going pretty well. I am still healing, but I feel more and more like me every day. And a pre-pregnancy me at that! I almost forgot what it felt like not to have a moving bowling ball beating me up from the inside. She felt so big inside but looks so little on the outside! It's been a joy getting to know her, but it has definitely been a different experience than adopting CJ. We went through so much before he came, that when he was placed in my arms, I just hit the ground running as Mom with a lot of confidence. And I realize I was expecting the same thing when Leila came, but it hasn't quite been that way. When you add the physical stress of surgery, hormones, breastfeeding and two infants to the mix, some of my confidence went out the window. I will admit to daily crying for a couple of days, sometimes over a stupid TV show, sometimes over worrying about how much Leila was getting to eat. Being the sole source of nutrition for an infant is a lot of pressure especially when your own body is all whacked out from birth and surgery. So it was touch and go for a while. Thank goodness I have John who is just a rock and did EVERYTHING else while I hobbled around and felt like a giant breast, and of course so many family members and friends. The worst didn't last very long, and now things are getting into a bit of a routine, the hormones are diminishing and I am getting that confident Mom feeling back and enjoying our miracles.
Because, really, with these three as mine, hormones don't stand a chance!
I finally got to really hold her around 9 AM. I think the picture speaks for itself.
Because, really, with these three as mine, hormones don't stand a chance!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Teething, Parental Panick, and When Is She Coming Out Already?
The last week and a half have seen an increase in the teething arena. More chewing, more fussing, the usual. Saturday afternoon CJ and I were lying around in bed while John ran some errands (I can't sit in a chair anymore and hold the kid, so we are in bed a lot.), and the poor kid was just rolling and fussing and NO BOTTLE and NO SLEEP JUST WANT TO FUSS, MOM! Finally he grabbed my finger to chomp on (still not sure why we waste money on teething rings. He will always choose the finger.), and there it was. The needle sharp tip of his left, bottom, front tooth. After the OW! came a YAY! then texting everyone and finally a small nap. We're still dealing with a lot of the fussiness and way too much of the fighting sleep because I think the right one is not too far behind the left. Still CJ's worst fussiness is really not that bad.
Saturday night held an adventure too. John's band, Landslide, had their first gig at The Hanover Grille in Carlisle. Because I have a loving cousin who will babysit anytime, I got to go see them for a while. They rock. I had fun. I picked CJ up a little before midnight. When we got home, we were both pretty tired, but he wasn't quite ready to go back to sleep, so I made a bottle to help convince him. As I said, we are hanging out in the bed a lot, so that's where he finally crashed. I was too tired to take him to his crib, so I just piled pillows around the bed and crashed myself. Apparently, John got home around 2 AM, and I was so out that even the dogs barking did not wake me up. John put the baby in the crib, then went downstairs as he still was juiced up from the awesome performance. Something jolted me awake, and there was no baby next to me. I wasn't expecting John home for another hour. I started throwing blankets and pillows and praying he hadn't fallen under the bed or something. He was nowhere! Finally my brain clicked on enough to check the nursery, and there he was safe and sound. I was more awake but not awake enough to figure out what had happened. I was trying to decide if I had sleep-parented when John having heard me, came upstairs. It was a very odd moment. Still, better than baby under the bed.
As to the baby who is still a parasite, it looks like unless she decides differently, she will be coming out on the 14th via c-section as she is what they call Frank Breech or butt down. I still have hope of her turning, but she is a Batzer baby in a Baker body. There ain't much room for her to do anything in there. Those of you on Facebook and Twitter, keep an eye out for any further developments. We will update the blog ASAP, but FB and Twitter will be faster.
Saturday night held an adventure too. John's band, Landslide, had their first gig at The Hanover Grille in Carlisle. Because I have a loving cousin who will babysit anytime, I got to go see them for a while. They rock. I had fun. I picked CJ up a little before midnight. When we got home, we were both pretty tired, but he wasn't quite ready to go back to sleep, so I made a bottle to help convince him. As I said, we are hanging out in the bed a lot, so that's where he finally crashed. I was too tired to take him to his crib, so I just piled pillows around the bed and crashed myself. Apparently, John got home around 2 AM, and I was so out that even the dogs barking did not wake me up. John put the baby in the crib, then went downstairs as he still was juiced up from the awesome performance. Something jolted me awake, and there was no baby next to me. I wasn't expecting John home for another hour. I started throwing blankets and pillows and praying he hadn't fallen under the bed or something. He was nowhere! Finally my brain clicked on enough to check the nursery, and there he was safe and sound. I was more awake but not awake enough to figure out what had happened. I was trying to decide if I had sleep-parented when John having heard me, came upstairs. It was a very odd moment. Still, better than baby under the bed.
As to the baby who is still a parasite, it looks like unless she decides differently, she will be coming out on the 14th via c-section as she is what they call Frank Breech or butt down. I still have hope of her turning, but she is a Batzer baby in a Baker body. There ain't much room for her to do anything in there. Those of you on Facebook and Twitter, keep an eye out for any further developments. We will update the blog ASAP, but FB and Twitter will be faster.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Mommy wins at Bedtime
The other night, CJ started to show signs that it was nearly bedtime right around 8PM. We aim for 8, but there have been days that he just hasn't napped & he gets to bed earlier. There are days that he's wide awake at 8 and bedtime is closer to 9 or 10. This other night, he started showing the sleepy signs: rubbing his eyes, unexplained kicking (because he's learned that he can hold off sleep if he simply moves around). I took him upstairs.
I've explained before that mommy has turned into the book reader & I turned into the lullaby singer. I started singing through my favorites ("Golden Slumbers" & "Good Night" by the Beatles, "Beautiful Boy" by John Lennon, "Goodnight My Angel" by Billy Joel, "Baby Mine" from Dumbo, "Rainbow Connection" by Kermit the Frog), and then threw in a bunch of others ("Free Fallin'" by Tom Petty, "Drift Away" by Dobie Gray, "I'll Be There For You" by Bon Jovi", "Walk On the Ocean" by Toad the Wet Sprocket), and then started all over again. CJ was digging it . . . watching me, smiling, laughing . . . but after an hour of singing, he was nowhere closer to falling asleep than when we started. Toward the beginning of the second time through, my voice started to fail me, and Mr. Coltrane really didn't like the reduced volume, so I picked him up & continued on through. Finally, I put him back down & he started to seriously cry.
At this point, Mommy came upstairs, picked the kid up, & minutes later, he was asleep. The lesson, as always, is Mommy wins at bedtime.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Existential Nap Time
My sleepy son plays peek-a-boo in my elbow as I rock. As his eyes get heavy, he reaches his fingers up to touch my lips. I kiss the tips as he looks up at me, his eyes reflecting so much more than the sleep he needs. In them I see his old phoenix soul sharing the thank you and the you're welcome we feel for each other. Because of those eyes, I know there is more to the universe than what we see, and it is good. Then he turns back into my elbow and the baby giggle as I whisper peek-a-boo, breaks the spell, and I laugh back. Now, please, go to sleep, little guy.
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