Posts
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Desmond's First Photo Shoot
Here are just a few of the many pictures that our friend, the ultra-talented Jack Allred, took when Desmond was 6 weeks old.
View more of Jack's work HERE.
Sad (and funny) but true
So, the other day I was napping with Desmond while Billy worked on his Business school essays (bane of our existence by the way. Another bane of our existence is Pirate who, when I stepped out to walk Desmond up and down the driveway, took the opportunity to pee all over our bed...again). I woke up before Desmond and decided that it was a good time to try to sneak off and take a shower. I undressed and started the shower when I hear Desmond start fussing. I went into the bedroom and picked him up. He turned his head from side to side and started wailing. I guess his wriggling and crying stimulated my let down reflex (the tingly feeling you get when your milk "lets down" and starts flowing (aka leaking)) and, before I know it, I could feel breastmilk leaking down my stomach and thighs. I run towards the office buck naked holding Desmond out in front of me while breastmilk squirts out all over me and onto the floor. Billy looks at me with a half-smile on his face kind of confused at the whole sight of me. He grabs Desmond and realizes what's been happening and starts laughing. I run back into the bathroom and jump into the shower.
A few days later, I was sitting on the bed after feeding Desmond. I sneezed and handed Desmond off to Billy to burp him. I got up to go to the bathroom and Billy points to where I was sitting and says, "what's that?" I look over and see a dark circle. "Dammit!" I peed my pants when I sneezed. Usually, when I sneeze, I pee my pants a LITTLE. But this was more than a little. And I didn't even notice that it was more than a little. I'm turning into my mother, who, when I was little, would pee her pants at the mere giggle of a joke. My poor bladder. I can't believe I have to deal with issues of incontinence.
Yesterday, I had my first postpartum checkup where I had a pap smear (piece of cake now) and the Mirena (an IUD) inserted. I chose the Mirena as a method of family planning because it releases small amounts of hormone to build up mucus in my cervix (blocking the passage of sperm) and makes my endometrial lining thinner, making implantation, if it happens, which is very unlikely, harder. Anyhow, she had all of these tools out on the counter and said that she probably wouldn't need to use them, but if the opening of the cervix is too tight, she may have to. She inserted the probe into my cervix EASILY. I felt kind of disappointed. I wanted to be that one woman whose cervix after giving birth was amazingly like a non-mom cervix. I told this to Billy and he didn't seem to understand why it was such a big deal to me. I told him that from now on, any gynecologist would know that I had given birth and that kind of bugged me. Does that make sense?
I surprise myself with all of the crap that goes through my head. Like out of all the things to worry about in my life, I'm really concerned with the state of my cervix. I need to get over it :)
A few days later, I was sitting on the bed after feeding Desmond. I sneezed and handed Desmond off to Billy to burp him. I got up to go to the bathroom and Billy points to where I was sitting and says, "what's that?" I look over and see a dark circle. "Dammit!" I peed my pants when I sneezed. Usually, when I sneeze, I pee my pants a LITTLE. But this was more than a little. And I didn't even notice that it was more than a little. I'm turning into my mother, who, when I was little, would pee her pants at the mere giggle of a joke. My poor bladder. I can't believe I have to deal with issues of incontinence.
Yesterday, I had my first postpartum checkup where I had a pap smear (piece of cake now) and the Mirena (an IUD) inserted. I chose the Mirena as a method of family planning because it releases small amounts of hormone to build up mucus in my cervix (blocking the passage of sperm) and makes my endometrial lining thinner, making implantation, if it happens, which is very unlikely, harder. Anyhow, she had all of these tools out on the counter and said that she probably wouldn't need to use them, but if the opening of the cervix is too tight, she may have to. She inserted the probe into my cervix EASILY. I felt kind of disappointed. I wanted to be that one woman whose cervix after giving birth was amazingly like a non-mom cervix. I told this to Billy and he didn't seem to understand why it was such a big deal to me. I told him that from now on, any gynecologist would know that I had given birth and that kind of bugged me. Does that make sense?
I surprise myself with all of the crap that goes through my head. Like out of all the things to worry about in my life, I'm really concerned with the state of my cervix. I need to get over it :)
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Desmond's first movie: Salt
Since Billy finished one application to graduate school, we decided to celebrate by taking a drive up Millcreek Canyon to look at the beautiful fall leaves. We then went and took some pictures at a pumpkin patch in Sandy (Farnsworth Farms and Cider Mills). Desmond picked out his very first pumpkin ( a little mini one) and we had some delicious unpasteurized apple cider (don't worry...we toured the facilities. It looked reputable).
Desmond FREAKS out when the sun hits his face.
Sometimes I treat him like he's a doll, putting him in the most silly, uncomfortable poses ever.
This is Desmond about to take a bite out of his poor cousin Nico's head.
I love dressing up my little man. I saw this blog post about this woman who had a "Little Man Tea Party" for her two sons. It was adorable! They had little mustaches drawn on them and wore little teeny ties and striped pants. I loved it. Except that it made me feel like a lazy-ass mom. This lady must have 28 hours in her day or smokes meth because I don't understand how she can raise two boys and do all of the really creative things she does. Check out her blog at your own peril...it will make you feel kinda inadequate...
We ended the night by going to the dollar theatres in Sugarhouse to watch Salt. I would watch anything with Angelina Jolie in it. We packed the diaper bag; I grabbed my to-go coffee mug filled with my coffee cubes, chocolate/regular milk mix, and a dash of Bailey's (what? we're celebrating); and Billy threw on the sleepy wrap. We paid 4 bucks to see the movie and Desmond was soooo good throughout the whole thing. The second he started fussing, Billy offered him a bottle (I had pumped right before we left) and he ended up drinking 4 oz! Unbelievable, considering that I usually get about 3 oz from my left and about 1.5 oz on my right breast.
Helping me with Mommy Time...
Open Letter to Desmond: Weeks 7 and 8
Dear Desmond:
These past 2 weeks you have grown and done so much! You are now babbling to me; everyday we sit (well, I sit and you lie down) and we practice saying four words: mama, dada, abuelita, and grandma. I think Desmond is still too hard for you, but you seem to be getting the hang of mama and dada. You try to form your mouth into the shape my mouth is in and you try to make the same sounds I'm making. It's amazing to see how you are learning to use your voice to communicate with me. In a few months, we will start baby sign language so that (hopefully) you will be able to tell us when you're hungry or if you want more food or if you're tired.
Don't pay any mind to my voice in the video. I'm totally talking like an idiot, but I guess babies really like the high pitch of their mom's sing-songy voice. Don't make fun of me.
You can hold your head up pretty well (not well enough to let you do your own thing, but still pretty good). You are sleeping a little bit longer each night, although it's pretty much consistently every 3 hours. You have no problem taking a bottle from your dad or grandma, although we are still trying to figure out which bottle (and nipple) is best for you. Sometimes, the flow is too much and you gulp REALLY loudly and breathe really hard.
We also took you on your first trip up the canyon and you had your first breath of fresh air ever. You slept right through it all.
You are big enough to start wearing 3-month-old clothes, although they're a bit too big for you. They also look like they were lifted from your grandpa's closet (according to your aunt Kseniya).
These past 2 weeks you have grown and done so much! You are now babbling to me; everyday we sit (well, I sit and you lie down) and we practice saying four words: mama, dada, abuelita, and grandma. I think Desmond is still too hard for you, but you seem to be getting the hang of mama and dada. You try to form your mouth into the shape my mouth is in and you try to make the same sounds I'm making. It's amazing to see how you are learning to use your voice to communicate with me. In a few months, we will start baby sign language so that (hopefully) you will be able to tell us when you're hungry or if you want more food or if you're tired.
Don't pay any mind to my voice in the video. I'm totally talking like an idiot, but I guess babies really like the high pitch of their mom's sing-songy voice. Don't make fun of me.
You can hold your head up pretty well (not well enough to let you do your own thing, but still pretty good). You are sleeping a little bit longer each night, although it's pretty much consistently every 3 hours. You have no problem taking a bottle from your dad or grandma, although we are still trying to figure out which bottle (and nipple) is best for you. Sometimes, the flow is too much and you gulp REALLY loudly and breathe really hard.
We also took you on your first trip up the canyon and you had your first breath of fresh air ever. You slept right through it all.
You are big enough to start wearing 3-month-old clothes, although they're a bit too big for you. They also look like they were lifted from your grandpa's closet (according to your aunt Kseniya).
Check out his hand in his pocket.
Your hair situation isn't getting much better. I know that some babies go for months, sometimes over a year, before they can grow any noticeable hair. Always having had a buttload of hair my entire life (except for one short time in my life), it's crazy to me that my own progeny would have so little hair.
Male pattern baldness
We are settling into our own little rhythm, and although it's still really trying and there are days when I just want to hand you over to Billy and take a very long nap...alone. But for the most part, I feel that we have a pretty good relationship. OK, OK...we have a GREAT relationship. You are the most awesome little being in the entire world and I love hanging out with you. Even if you do spit up all over my shoulders and your pee seeps through your diapers and onto my shirt.
Finally, you are looking more and more like a little boy and less and less like an old man (from the front, at least :)) I can't wait to see how you're going to change!
Finally, you are looking more and more like a little boy and less and less like an old man (from the front, at least :)) I can't wait to see how you're going to change!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
On having children...
I discovered Storypeople in 1999, when I was dating this guy and his mom had the book on her coffee table. I loved the weird, slightly creepy pictures and the cute, short stories that came along with them. I loved them so much that I signed up to receive "story of the day" emails from Storypeople 6 years ago. This morning, I received this story:
It's amazing how life and experiences just repeat itself over and over. My mother herself was once a baby, a child, a rebellious teenager. She would sneak out of the house, skip school, and smoke cigarettes just like I did. And then she became a mother and I was her baby, her child, her rebellious teenager who did the exact same things she did to her mother.
It wasn't until I became an adult and a mother that I realized how tough it is to be one. I see now how wise she was when she told me, on the day we moved for the second time in 3 years, that I will make friends again or when she told me, after one particularly rough day in school, that life beyond high school is so much more interesting. I blew her off and accused her of not knowing me or my life or what it was like to be a teenager in the 90s.
My mother has been witness to the god-awful changes of puberty 5 times now, going through each door-slamming tantrum with aplomb. Desmond will probably tell me one day that he hates me, he'll slam the door in my face, or sneak the car out in the middle of the night, just like I used to do to my mother. And I'll smile and wait a few more years when he becomes an adult and a father and can look at me and tell me, "Mama, you were right." I can't wait...
It's amazing how life and experiences just repeat itself over and over. My mother herself was once a baby, a child, a rebellious teenager. She would sneak out of the house, skip school, and smoke cigarettes just like I did. And then she became a mother and I was her baby, her child, her rebellious teenager who did the exact same things she did to her mother.
It wasn't until I became an adult and a mother that I realized how tough it is to be one. I see now how wise she was when she told me, on the day we moved for the second time in 3 years, that I will make friends again or when she told me, after one particularly rough day in school, that life beyond high school is so much more interesting. I blew her off and accused her of not knowing me or my life or what it was like to be a teenager in the 90s.
My mother has been witness to the god-awful changes of puberty 5 times now, going through each door-slamming tantrum with aplomb. Desmond will probably tell me one day that he hates me, he'll slam the door in my face, or sneak the car out in the middle of the night, just like I used to do to my mother. And I'll smile and wait a few more years when he becomes an adult and a father and can look at me and tell me, "Mama, you were right." I can't wait...
My boyfriend's a DILF
Seriously.
Anytime we go out in public and Billy's holding or wearing Desmond, all sorts of women stop and stare. One woman even started walking backwards, her face in an "awww...how adorable!" expression, just to get a look at Billy holding Desmond.
Don't get me wrong, I get my fair share of stares (mostly from older ladies) and my fair share of women coming up to me when I carry Desmond, but they are particularly interested in Desmond and I'm just the thing that holds him up and can answer what sex he is and how old he is.
People, however, stare mostly at Billy and Desmond becomes the secondary attraction. It's quite interesting to see how many women with glistening eyes and sappy smiles Billy and Desmond leave in their wake.
Anytime we go out in public and Billy's holding or wearing Desmond, all sorts of women stop and stare. One woman even started walking backwards, her face in an "awww...how adorable!" expression, just to get a look at Billy holding Desmond.
Don't get me wrong, I get my fair share of stares (mostly from older ladies) and my fair share of women coming up to me when I carry Desmond, but they are particularly interested in Desmond and I'm just the thing that holds him up and can answer what sex he is and how old he is.
People, however, stare mostly at Billy and Desmond becomes the secondary attraction. It's quite interesting to see how many women with glistening eyes and sappy smiles Billy and Desmond leave in their wake.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Crying over spilled milk
Hand pumping is definitely more time-consuming and more tiring than using an electric pump, of course. However, it has been working and I'm getting better at figuring out how to position it and when to switch from one breast to the other. It does take me about 30 minutes to get only 4 ounces, but I look at the time invested as an opportunity to burn extra calories.
So, for 30 minutes, I sit there and pump, pump, pump while watching House or True Blood (my latest guilty pleasure. Seriously, the second I hear that southern drawl, the back of my tongue becomes a bit heavier and I could feel my throat and my mouth itching to say "y'all"). I proudly take my 4 little ounces of milk into the kitchen and either freeze it or refrigerate it.
Well, last night as I was opening a container filled with 3 oz of milk, I accidentally spilled it all over our counter. My heart stopped beating. I thought of the pride I felt after those 30 minutes pump, pump, pumping and seeing the fruits of my labor and I thought of the hard work that went into those 30 minutes. I yelled out several expletives and screamed in frustration. Billy ran out of the room to see if I was alright. As soon as I heard him ask, I started crying. He came over to hug me and told me that everything was OK, that I could make more. I nodded my head "yes," but wanted to turn around and put the pump up to his nipples and pump it for 30 minutes to see how he'd like it. Instead, I took a deep breath, realized that he's just a man and that he's trying his best to console me and I calmed down.
On another note, I was kissing Desmond's feet and he managed to scratch my upper lip with his toenails. I mean, enough to draw blood! That's what I get for making fun of his weird, long, big-toed feet.
So, for 30 minutes, I sit there and pump, pump, pump while watching House or True Blood (my latest guilty pleasure. Seriously, the second I hear that southern drawl, the back of my tongue becomes a bit heavier and I could feel my throat and my mouth itching to say "y'all"). I proudly take my 4 little ounces of milk into the kitchen and either freeze it or refrigerate it.
Well, last night as I was opening a container filled with 3 oz of milk, I accidentally spilled it all over our counter. My heart stopped beating. I thought of the pride I felt after those 30 minutes pump, pump, pumping and seeing the fruits of my labor and I thought of the hard work that went into those 30 minutes. I yelled out several expletives and screamed in frustration. Billy ran out of the room to see if I was alright. As soon as I heard him ask, I started crying. He came over to hug me and told me that everything was OK, that I could make more. I nodded my head "yes," but wanted to turn around and put the pump up to his nipples and pump it for 30 minutes to see how he'd like it. Instead, I took a deep breath, realized that he's just a man and that he's trying his best to console me and I calmed down.
On another note, I was kissing Desmond's feet and he managed to scratch my upper lip with his toenails. I mean, enough to draw blood! That's what I get for making fun of his weird, long, big-toed feet.
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