TGIF

I was supposed to go to a girls' coffee/fellowship thing this morning. I was actually really looking forward to it all week and would have absolutely gotten my butt out of bed on my day off if Bo hadn't kept me up with our DIY Home Renovations (see last post) till after midnight and Forrest hadn't gotten me up approximately every 2 hours after that.   Finally at 7:30 am, I threw in the towel, brought him into our bed (I know, I know, I'm not supposed to do that) and admitted to myself I wasn't going to get up for coffee and fellowship like I probably should have.    

We had a glorious lazy morning in bed with our son (Bo didn't have to work today either - PURE gloriousness!) and then I made cottage cheese pancakes and now I sit here wondering what else I could possibly blog about than this relaxing, sun-filtered, hot-latte-in-hand Friday morning.  I realize no one else may care about my Friday morning, but this is my blog after all and it does say "a journal...of sorts."    So I don't even apologize.    Ok, fine... I do kinda feel bad.  Sorry to all those dutifully slaving away at "real" work right now.   I wish you could be here with me. I would even make you a latte.

My chunky monkey is snoozing away in his swing (remember, he hardly slept last night either), so I should take advantage of the glorious morning and get some weeding done. I keep holding my breath that maybe, just maybe, spring has arrived.  But then invariably we get a frost the next morning, so this is me not holding my breath any more.   Maybe my forced nonchalance will aid in holding the long tentacles of Winter at bay.

DIY Home Renovation

So our house has never been a "fixer upper," but for whatever reason construction projects have been a huge part of our home-owning experience since the beginning.  Maybe its because we have too much vision or maybe its a mark of Bo's OCD. Whatever the case, if we don't have 17 different on-going projects all in various stages of completion it's an off month.  Our current crisis looks something like this.... ok...exactly like this.

Once completed, the projects (so far) have all turned out beautifully ... ok, there have been a few exceptions- like our homemade mantel that never would stop dripping sap and a screened in porch that could double as a set in The Conjuring.   Still, by and large, we've been very proud of our mostly DIY home renovations.   In the midst of the madness it can be pretty overwhelming (our current mindset) but I guess even a crack of light at the end of the tunnel gives us enough oomph to push through.    Since I have no banister or railing on either my staircase or 12 foot tall balcony and no friends will come visit me until I do, we should get back to work.   Hopefully, I'll soon be able to post the "after" pictures.

Oh, and yes, that is a baby swing overlooking the "stain the railing" project. Forrest is becoming quite the supervisor.  

A picture's worth a 1000 words

It's my 3 mo birthday, and if daddy wants to feed me frozen snicker bar than who am I to refuse?   

(.... hehehehe...shhhh....I just had frozen snicker bar)

For heaven's sake, when will they figure out I will NEVER enjoy tummy time. These cheeks are way too heavy to hold up!

She sits on my lap, but won't let me kiss her!!!

....Random aside just cuz its pretty -- Derby, on an evening swim

Bath time AND I found my toes -- what could be better!?!?

Oh golly, mom, are you going to use this at my high school graduation?

Small sips of air

Small Sips of Air.... my yoga instructor's voice makes it sound soothing and easy even in a stifling bikram room where the latest contortion has my body screaming for relief and my eyes burning with the salty sweat pouring from my forehead. I close my eyes and focus and breathe. Small sips of air, and my mind clings to it like a mantra. ...Small sips of air....

But it's outside that room that maybe I need the most practice. Small sips... it's something I don't do very well. I gulp. It's why I hate ice in my drinks. I sprint, and I speed. I floor it when the light is yellow and hold back road rage when a car is slow.  I lunge. I grasp. I overcommit and overextend.  I don't do sips very well.  But I think there is something to be said for intentionally slowing everything down and taking small sips instead of 7-eleven gulps.

I thought life would ease up a bit with the arrival of Forrest.  (easy does it, all you loudly guffawing mothers). I knew I would only work part time and my additional time at home was sure to be just the picture of relaxation. Instead, I feel like a tightly wound top -- and my kid isn't even crawling.  I succumb so easily to this culture that teaches you to never be satisfied, to always strive for more, to commit to more activities, to make more money, to get more stuff. There is no time or energy for small sips. And none of the above is bad -- in fact, it can all be good. And believe me, apathy or laziness is definitely not the antidote.  

But I find my breath catching in my throat to gaze at my baby's perfect pouty lips the moment he stops nursing when they are still damp and slightly puckered and realize it's the first time I've really drank him in all day.   My breath catches when the afternoon rolls on by and I'm more worried about meeting a deadline, my to-do list for tomorrow, or the fact that I haven't worked out yet, than making my little boy giggle.    When I just stop and sit and be.... I feel guilty. Why is that?  I worry that I'm not progressing more in my career. I worry that the house projects may not give us equal return when we sell. I think I should be taking a few college classes.  I should be writing more. I should be gardening more. I should get out and start traveling again. I should, I need, I should, I need. Small sips are hard when life just keeps spinning and spinning.  But how much do we miss out on in our never-ending thirst for more?  Perhaps it is one of life's greatest ironies that small sips give us the most return.  I pray I take more small sips. I pray I don't value these huge gulps so much. I want to be the best I can be and live to my potential; but I don't want to look to the future so much I lose sight of the present. I want to rest in today, and be ok with missing out on things. I want to not get everything done, to not accomplish that next step or succeed in that next opportunity. I want to go against my own rigidly developed grain. For once, I want to sip small sips.

Oh Boy

So at the very real risk of being reported to CPS and having every other much more knowledgeable and safety conscious parent judge me, I am posting this video of Forrest's newest trick. ...Done in literally the span of 30 seconds while I stepped out of the room to move along a load of laundry. And I admit it... So maybe I immediately grabbed the camera rather than my son... but I swear I'm a pretty competent parent.   Still, it's probably a good thing this blog will only be read by my nearest and dearest.

So we obviously think Forrest is advanced. I mean, I guess every parent probably thinks their child is special, but seriously -- this kid.  He's something else. He's not even 3 months old yet and I feel like the next time I turn around he'll probably be doing a cartwheel and asking for an advance on his allowance.   He's rolling over with some regularity although his absolute refusal to do so in front of the camera is a point of ongoing consternation for me.   He laughs all the time and scrunches his little chin into his chest, peeking out at you under his amazing eyelashes. His newest thing is putting his arm around your neck or over your shoulder. He nestles right into your neck and you literally feel like you might melt into a puddle of ecstasy. The other day he slung his arm around my neck, leaned back and, I swear, winked at me. I almost died.

On another note, I've gotten one week back at work under my belt.  Besides the fact that I'm wearing heels again, I don't have too much else positive to say about it.  I'll give it some time, but I'm really torn.

Airplane wings and weddings

We are just getting home from a quick weekend trip to MI for Bo's sister Katie's wedding.  It was a lovely, Valentine's Day affair. Small and simple, but with all the love, family, and friends that make such events unforgettable and oh so special. It also made for Forrest's first airplane ride.  I have to say, he looked the part in his little aviator jacket, but had more than a few choice words to shriek while experiencing pressure change for the first time.   I think we had every single surrounding person lamenting with us and exchanging advice that was "sure to work" as we struggled to help him pop his ears or whatever his little body needed to do.   Poor thing.  The second flight I nursed him the whole 40 minutes and we barely heard a peep.  I think there is a certain amount of grace though for the heart-wrenching newborn cry.  A toddler's bellows may not elicit quite so many kind-hearted grimaces. I'm sure we'll find out in another couple years. 

Walking around the airport, we took turns holding the little man in the front pack. It was all I could do to hide the twinkle and little giggle every time Bo took him. Don't tell Bo I said this, but he positively strutted every time he was holding Forrest. It may have just been the 12 lbs strapped to his front and the sudden change in center of gravity, but I swear his chest puffed out, his gate changed, and I almost expected a plume of peacock feathers to suddenly spread out behind him.   

On Saturday, Forrest gave the bride a run for her money in the attention-getting department.  Next wedding I may have to lock him in a closet or something so he doesn't steal all the oohs and aahhs. It is fun, though, to see him interact and engage with people so much more than even a few weeks ago. He loves his older cousins a
nd they all can't wait "until he does stuff" as 4 yr. old Logan says.  I was never really that close with my cousins growing up -- for both distance and age factors.  Bo, however, has over 20 first and second cousins that he grew up with and spent nearly every summer at the lake with.  I hope and pray that Forrest gets to experience that kind of camaraderie and extended family adventures. They are for sure friendships and memories that are priceless.  

The Real World Beckons

So I'm headed back to work next week.  One moment I'm looking forward to getting out of the house and putting on real clothes, and the next moment I'm fighting this panicky desperation at the thought of being away from Forrest so long.   Granted, it's only 20 hours and 3 days a week.  It can't be that bad right?   We'll see if perhaps I have more patience for work place drama than before...

So now there are all these pumping and working mom aspects I need to know.  How much milk does Forrest need for a 7-8 hour day away from me? How does my care provider not overfeed him (or underfeed him for that matter...If only he could talk, this would all be so much easier.) Am I going to need to keep increasing the amount of milk I leave with her as he gets bigger? What if I can't pump enough to keep up?  Luckily, i stumbled across WorkandPump.com which helped answer many of these. What the heck did moms (ok, people in general) do before the internet?