6 Months!

Dear Carter,

It’s been six months since you entered our lives. Sometimes it feels like it’s been just a brief moment since you’ve joined us, and other times I can’t remember our lives before you. Your father and I are pretty proud that we’ve kept you alive for a whole six months without any major incidents, which is more than I can say for some of the houseplants we’ve previously had in our care.

You had a busy month little boy! The highlight: FOOD! Well, kind of. We started feeding you cereal in addition to milk. I really wanted to hold off until you were 6 months old to start solids, but you were having none of that. You were more than ready to start. The first time we fed you I’d say you got down about 90% of it, much more than I expected. You actually grabbed the spoon with both hands to shove it in your mouth faster. Now when we put you in your seat to eat you flail your arms and kick your legs wildly. I’m pretty sure you know what’s coming and you’re excited about it. You are a Jobin, after all. You also thought the whole process was hilarious. The first time we fed you, all you could do was laugh. I’m not quite sure what was so humorous, but before long we were all laughing. Who knew cereal was so funny?

We survived your second cold, complete with mama’s second cold of November as well. You are such a trooper. I never imagined I would willing extract snot from someone’s nose, but that’s how much we love you. We just want you to be able to breathe (and subsequently, sleep). Hopefully all these little illnesses are making you stronger and you’ll grow up to have an immune system like your father. You’re not sleeping as well as you used to, which has left us a little haggard and worse for the wear this month. Yet there’s part of me that enjoys your late night feedings. I know my days where you will cuddle in my arms are numbered and I’m trying to enjoy every moment of you needing me.

We celebrated our first Thanksgiving with you a few weeks ago. This presented just one more glorious occasion for me to dress you up in some cute clothes. I had picked out a sweater and matching hat with sweet little elephants on it, but your dad told me it was too pastel and Eastery. You’re very lucky to have such a caring daddy looking out for your wardrobe choices. You were still pretty dang cute, I must say. You and your dad wore matching outfits (even though I’m told boys don’t wear outfits). Next Thanksgiving will be much more exciting for you. This year you really didn’t get to try much. That didn’t stop you from trying. At one point you managed to squirm out of my lap and grab on to my plate with both hands. It didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, but it was a great picture. Next year you’ll understand the joys of turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce and most importantly crescent rolls and pie!

You’re doing lots of funny things lately. I cannot even begin to describe how much rolling there is. You’re still refusing to roll from your tummy to your back though. You’re very proficient at rolling from your back to your tummy. That takes literally 2 seconds. Then, about 5 seconds after that, you get mad and begin to fling your limbs in the air. I don’t think you’re going to crawl anytime soon because you’re too busy flailing your limbs instead of utilizng them in any type of useful fashion. You also hate to bend your elbows. You must keep your arms straight at all times. If we bend them for you, you immediately fling them back to the straight position. When we hold you on our hips, you look like you’re trying to fly or something. You’re still a big fan of your tongue. Your chomping has intensified. I’m expecting your teeth to sprout any day now. I’m a little concerned you’re going to chomp your fingers off when you do have teeth. You also have this new cough/laugh noise that sounds like a machine gun. You will go on making that noise for 10 minutes, sometimes longer. I’m not sure why you like it, but I think the sound is funny to you. And in all seriousness, you are LOUD. You’re just a tiny little person with a huge capacity for a noisemaking.

As we decorate and get ready for Christmas, your fascinated by all the lights. You do not care for Christmas songs though. In fact, when I sing certain ones you immediately tear up and start wailing. Someday we’ll show you the video. It’s almost unbelievable. I sing, you cry. Your dad raps, you laugh. And on and on.

As we prepare to celebrate a little baby who came to change the world, we are so incredible thankful for our little baby who changed our lives forever. We couldn’t imagine the world without you little one.

Love,

Mama

We have a 6 month old!

And he's still big, but slowing down.

He's weighing in at 20 pounds, 14 ounces and 28 inches long. His head is still massive, 46.5 centimeters.

And I'm completely exhausted right now. I love December, I love Christmas, I love my family, and I enjoy my job, but right now it feels like all the things in my life is demanding everything I have.

I have a 6 month letter, I'll post it eventually. But this is all I have time for now. More to come... assuming I don't fall over and sleep for several days.

Two in one.

Some "two in ones" are good... cookie dough and ice cream in one carton, shampoo and conditioner in one bottle, a phone and an mp3 player in one handy device, etc. Two rounds of sickness in one month is the bad kind of two in one. Both times Carter started off sniffly, gave it to me, got worse, and Seth was spared. That baby is a trooper though. He wakes up coughing and sputters when he's eating and is so stuffed up but really doesn't seem too bothered by it. I don't get it... hopefully we're all building immunity for later on in life.

[(sick mama + sick baby) * 2] to the power of thanksgiving = misery

Five months!

Five months!

Your exuberance for life has exploded this month. They don’t call it the four month wakeful period for nothing. You’ve started waking up throughout the night again. Don’t get me wrong, I love every minute I can hang out with you, but I would actually prefer to spend our time together during my waking hours. When you do wake up, you’re not terribly interested in going back to sleep. You’re so much more aware of the world and want to spend as much time as you can taking it all in.

You continue to be huge. At your doctor’s appointment this month the doctor called you a “big ol’ moose.” Your dad couldn’t be more proud. You’re off the charts for height and head size (which you get from your dad. You and your dad both owe me for that one!). Your weight is around the 90-95^th percentile. A few weeks ago we took you in for your 4 month check up and you’re measuring in at the average size of an 8 month old. You’re outgrowing all of your 12 month clothes. I was hoping to wait until Christmas to get you more clothes but you may be running around naked by Christmas if I do that. On a sad note, you had to get your next round of shots at that appointment and you spent the next 24 hours sick and miserable. There are few things that make me as sad as seeing you sick. The one positive thing that came out of that is you wanted to be cuddled. You’re getting so active and alert that you’re not as content to snuggle with your mama, so I’ll take the cuddling where I can get it.

Your time is spent exploring the floor and your toys these days and especially flinging your limbs. You are really into grabbing anything and everything. You especially like faces. If it’s your dad’s face and he’s wearing his glasses, JACKPOT. You also do this new trick I call “the vampire” where you wrap one arm around my shoulder and throw the other one around my neck and attack my neck. I adore that. Recently you’ve started constantly rolling from your back to your stomach. Then you realize you’re on your stomach (which you don’t really like) and get upset and forget how to roll back over, even though you’ve been rolling from your tummy to your back for a good four months now. You often throw your head into the air and fling your arms behind you and lift your legs in the air like shamu or a seal skimming across an icecap. It is so stinkin’ cute! However, the back to stomach flipping/squawking does make for a really difficult nap time. I have found you in all kinds of crazy positions in your crib this month. The other night you rotated yourself 180 degrees and wiggled into the corner. That is so not how we put you in there.

Your legs are still quite strong and your balance is getting better but luckily (for us) you haven’t gotten down your muscle control. We are in so much trouble when you do. You’re sitting up supported by your arms and only occasionally faceplanting. All you want to do is stand. Getting you to bend at the waist takes some convincing. Putting you in your swing, strapping you into your car seat, and keeping you in the bathtub are all daily challenges. When you’re not standing, you’re kicking. Bath time is hilarious. We don’t really know if you’re annoyed or happy or quite angry, but you’re expressing something or maybe just trying to splash out every single drop of water.

We suffered through our first household illness this week. It started with you getting a little sniffly and sneezing last week. Then I got it. When mommy gets sick, it’s game over. Friday morning we hung out with your grandma and everything was fine but by mid-afternoon I was very miserable. I had to tough it out until your dad came home. We laid on the floor together, you playing and rolling, me just trying to breathe and make sure you didn’t roll out the door. By Friday night I was really quite sick and I spent the whole weekend that way. I tried to keep my distance from you except to feed you and it was so tough! In addition to being miserably sick, I was just as miserable to be missing out on a weekend with you. But that misery was nothing compared to the screaming resulting from clearing your nose. Oh THE SCREAMING! You can’t yet blow your own nose, so we have to hold you down and use a bulb aspirator which is a crazy contraption that sucks the snot out of your nose (just one of the many joys of parenthood). You ha-aaa-aa-aaa-ate it. And I absolutely hate doing it. I usually do the sucking and your dad holds you down. We try to make it this fun game and use upbeat tones but it doesn’t work. You will have none of it. The screaming that comes out of you doesn’t even remotely resemble a human, and it’s especially troubling coming out of a small infant. You fling yourself wildly trying to swat away our hands. It’s seriously like trying to tackle a windmilling octopus.

Oh and you prefer rap music. We’ve tried all kinds of music and dance parties with you and your preference is hip hop. Gettin Jiggy Wit It is your favorite song, which you’re not allowed to listen to by the way. Don’t tell your dad, but you like country too. Classical, eh, not so much. You do seem to like it when I sing to you. I mix it up, lullabies and classics and some personal favorites. Jack Johnson, John Mayer, the occasional DMX on the more challenging days (Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in here, up in here). You’re not allowed to listen to that either.

We celebrated your first Halloween a few weeks ago. You were dressed like a tiger, in honor of your auntie Anna and the RIT tigers. We spent part of the night at the Harvest Festival and you spent the time in a kangaroo pouch strapped to your dad. You tried to eat the pouch the entire night and loved your new vantage point. Again, much cuteness abounded. I went pretty low key this year and got some tiger ears, so together we were the mama tiger and the tiger cub. And your dad was the kangaroo.

You are loving life baby boy. And we are loving life with you. You have filled my heart in ways I didn’t know possible.

Love,

Mama

Catching up on my lunch break

Every day I really did think about what I was thankful for. So here's a little catch up:

11/14: I am thankful for working phones! Especially since I don't have one. I'm carrying around 3 right now and none of them really work right. Long story, hopefully it will be fixed soon, but it's really showcasing my dependence on my phone. There's a reason they call it a crackberry.

11/15: I am really thankful to have all 4 of my grandparents. I know that's a huge blessing and I don't want to take it lightly. My goal this thanksgiving is to get a picture of Carter with all 4 of his maternal great-grandparents.

11/16: My car. We've had our Pilot almost a year and I still love it. It keeps us safe and cozy. It carried across the desert and back, transported us to the hospital and home with our little bundle, and I'm sure it will take us on many more adventures.

11/17: Schwans. Last night was a rough one for some reason. I was so physically exhausted and the thought of making dinner was too much to bare. And just then, the doorbell rang! Dinner came to us on the most perfect night for it. And the Light Vanilla Caramel Brownie Ice Cream was a nice plus too.

In other catching up news... Carter's Five Month letter coming soon!

Oh I love technology.

But not as much as you you see.

Seriously though, I love that I can use technology to talk to those I love. I can skype with my sister from thousands of miles away from my own couch. And for that, I am thankful.

Sponsored by the letter T

T is for Thankful. It is is also for TEA.

And today I am thankful for tea.

I like tea a lot. My favorite is Mighty Leaf tea. It comes in a gorgeous silk pouch that's almost too pretty to throw away. I love the Orange Dulce, and last night I enjoyed a delicious cup of the African Nectar variety.

Tea is a bit like wine. There are regional differences, environmental considerations, fanatical enthusiasts, ceremonies and traditions. Personally, I will take a good cup of tea over a glass of wine every time.

Thankful.

I love Thanksgiving. I love Christmas more than I love almost anything (hey, I said almost!) but I really enjoy Thanksgiving. It is such a tribute to America. Football? American. Family? American, at least in theory (that's a whole different post). Stereotypical pictures of native Americans and pilgrims? I'm skipping commentary there. Gluttony? Very American. There's something special to me about Thanksgiving because it's the most unifying holiday. You don't have to consider PCing-it up and worry that the grocery clerk or dog walker you pass or whatever may not celebrate the same way you do. The only people who don't celebrate Thanksgiving are ungrateful anti-Americans. Okay, that's probably a little harsh, but you catch my drift.

Last Thanksgiving I was 10 weeks pregnant and still reeling with "morning" sickness. Or all-day-every-day sickness, in my case. I think my Thanksgiving meal consisted of a little mashed potatoes and a crescent roll and some pie. Side note: now that I'm the one and only food source for a baby who eats A LOT (dude, have you seen that kid's rolls? He's almost 1/6 of my weight) I will be eating quite a bit more this year. Like, my own turkey.

Thanksgiving 2008 was still a very special day for two specific reasons. We announced our pregnancy to my extended family, which was great of course. The second reason is that it was a holiday full of promise and hope. We knew last year that we would have a little baby in our arms for Thanksgiving 2009 and we could only imagine what our lives would be like. On this side of it, I have to say that it is so much more amazing than I ever dreamed. I love that little boy more than I knew I could. The only thing really different is how I envisioned a little baby in my arms. Instead I have a tank of an infant rolling all over the place trying to figure out how to run, not walk, all over the place.

Several people have posted something along these lines on Facebook…

"Let's see how many people can do this. Every day this month until Thanksgiving, think of one thing that you are thankful for and post it as your status. "Today I am thankful for..." The longer you do it, the harder it gets! Now if you think you can do it then repost this message as your status to invite others to take the challenge, then post what YOU are thankful for today"

I think this is a lovely idea, and I'm going to try really hard to do that here. I'd love to hear you do the same! My blackberry is dead which may prove a challenge, but I'm also stubborn and determined.

So today I'm thankful for Carter. I realize friends, family, God, etc. are a little cliché and I'll probably get more creative but especially today as I remember last year with nostalgia, nothing seems more appropriate.

Still Truckin’

This was a weekend of many adjectives. First and foremost, adorable. Carter's first Halloween was basically a snuggly photo op. He really could not have cared less about the actual Halloween part, but he did get to spend some time strapped to his daddy in the kangaroo pouch. This gave him an incredible opportunity to suck on said kangaroo pouch for well over an hour.

It wasn't all sunshine and giggles though. The weekend did include a fun-size break down. I say fun-size as in "this fun size candy bar is not fun at all." King size, now that's fun. I think Carter sensed mama needed a little help Sunday and continuously melted my heart. Riiight up until the massive blow out followed by an emergency bath (for him and the surrounding area) followed by throwing up all over his clean self. I just stood there for a minute and looked at him and said "huh, well, I wish your dad was here." And he laughed. So it was all good.

Moral of the story (without going into details): working motherhood is not easy. It's not how I envisioned my life. I don't like all the issues that come with it. But, if that's the challenge I have to deal with for such an incredible blessing, I can work with that.

Average size.

So the measurements are in from Carter's 4 month check up and he's perfectly average size. FOR AN 8 MONTH OLD.

Seeing as he is in fact half that age, he's quite large. Here's the breakdown:

Height: 27.5 inches; above the 97th percentile (meaning, that's as high as they go)

Weight: 17 pounds, 12 ounces (though he weighed over 18 when I brought him on the scale with me last week); around the 95th percentile

Weight for height: 10th-25th percentile, meaning he's proportional. Although, the rolls on that kid really make me wonder about that one.

Head: 44.5 centimeters, again above the 97th percentile.

The doctor called him "a big ol' moose." Seth is so proud.

The new anti-drug advertisement

Remember the egg in the frying pan from back in the day? I propose replacing that with Lady Gaga videos. Seriously, what is wrong with her?

Four months

Dear Carter,

4 months! We are loving this stage and enjoying you so much. Every day you’re a new kid, growing and developing so fast I wish I could bottle up the moments and savor them for much longer. You constantly crack us up with your silly noises, funny faces, and flailing limbs. You’re very particular about your audience, though, preferring to keep it to just your dad and I. Which I suppose is okay, I’m sure before long I’ll be asking you to use an inside voice as you shriek through the aisles of some store (let’s be realistic, it will be Target). Speaking of shrieking, you have got some lungs! Wow. You are my child after all, so you come by it honestly. I’ve actually had to cover my ears a few times. You are a megaphone of fantastic, beautiful squeals of joy.

You babble and laugh and giggle all the time, occasionally throwing in some whining or fussing but mostly just happy noises. I tend to believe you got all of your screaming and fussing out in the first two months of your life and now you’re making up for it by being angelic 95% of the time. You’re also making up for all of your not-sleeping. THANK GOODNESS. Your dad and I were just about to lose it (okay, we already had) when all of the sudden you started sleeping last month and you’ve been going strong ever since. I think your exuberance for life wears you out. You go to sleep at 7, wake up for a midnight snack, and sleep until 6 or so. Believe me, I know how lucky we are and we worked hard to get here. Sometimes I’d really like to keep you up and hang out but you are just ready sleep. Again, just like your mother. When you wake up you are always the happiest baby ever and I just love those moments. You are absolutely elated to see us and fling all your limbs in delight. Stella, however, usually gets a glare. In your defense, I might be a little less than thrilled if a giant beast came crashing though my room to wake me up. We’re going to have to work on your love for animals. You do like music though, and you always smile when I sing to you. Lately we’ve started family band nights, I sing and your dad plays guitar. We’re ready for you on drums when you can figure out how to hold some sticks. I sure hope you get your dad’s rhythm.

You’re a lot like your dad in a few distinct ways. Specifically, your height, weight, and head size. You’re off the charts. You’re outgrowing some of your 9 and 12 month clothes. We’ve got two full boxes of stuff you can’t fit into anymore, and some of them never even touched your skin. You’re longer than my torso, and you’ve doubled your birth weight already. And your feet! None of your socks fit anymore, so I went to buy more. I got the 6-18 month size thinking surely that would last a while. Maybe they’d be a little big, but you’d grown into them, right? Wrong. They were a little small. The tube engulfed your whole calf, but the foot part didn’t quite make it to your heel. I’ve got some massive knots in my neck and back from lugging you around for the past 4 months. By the time you can walk on your own I’ll be strong enough to compete in lumberjack contests.

You love looking at toys and love to eat them even more. You’re ready to grab one in each fist and run down the halls. I keep telling you to slow down, but you’re not interested. There are times when you finally wear yourself out and crash and sometimes when other people are around you’re too mesmerized by all the voices and faces to exert the same level of liveliness. The rest of the time you are rearing to go. I know I’m in for a whole lot of trouble and so, so much chasing. Even when you’re sleeping you don’t really settle down. The other day we found you turned 90 degrees and on the opposite side of your crib, toy flung to the other corner. You have this new trick of scratching the mattress. The first time we heard this odd noise coming across the monitor we really could not figure out what the heck you were doing. We wandered into your room, perplexed, and discovered you laying perfectly still except for your hands. A few nights ago you scratched the mattress for over an hour, from midnight to after 1am, mesmerized. So I call you Scratch Masta C.

When I’m not trying to corral you, I’m wiping off your chin, your hands, and whatever else you can get in your mouth. I’m pretty sure you’re teething, which accounts for almost all of your fussy times. I don’t blame you, it’s a pretty unpleasant process and I wish I could take away all your pain. Your latest nickname is “droolbucket,” for self explanatory reasons. And now that you’re blowing raspberries all the time, I feel like I’m watching Shamu from the splash zone.

We’ve entered the glorious season of fall and we’re spending a good amount of time hanging out at home, bundling up and lighting candles. It’s wonderful to come home and hang out with you. We spend as much time as we can snuggling and playing with you. It’s actually pretty funny, out of all the space in our house we usually end up in the same ten square feet of each other. Usually it’s on the living room floor. We’ll put you on your activity mat and both your dad and I lay down next to you and Stella is never far behind. This is a good life we’re living. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and nothing else I’d rather do. I’m just so blessed to wake up and be your mom every day.

Love,

Mama

what a difference a year makes

One year ago today I took a test (some would say the most advanced piece of technology I'll ever pee on) and the NOT never appears alongside the PREGNANT. I hated that NOT and I had more than my fair share of angry/bitter/irrationally upset moments resulting from negative pregnancy tests, and I know how blessed we are that we could have a child. For some reason, I didn’t think that was our month on that fateful October morning. I’d had previous months when I was absolutely convinced I was pregnant only to be devastated again. All those previous months I had these huge imaginative plans for the creative and special ways I would tell Seth and the magical moment it would be. That morning I just thought, eh, what the heck, might as well take the test. It was really too early to test anyway and I knew I probably wouldn’t get an accurate result even if I was pregnant, which I was certain I wasn’t.

Sure enough, I was.

And that’s where all my imaginative planning met its demise. As soon as the result showed up I did a true double take and almost died of shock. Instead of concocting some special moment, I went and woke up Seth immediately, despite the fact that it was 6am on a Saturday. Then I kept looking at the test, approximately 5,000 times before I really believed it. And right away I knew it was a boy.

36 weeks later, Carter James Jobin entered the world. People say pregnancy goes fast. For me, not so much. Not at all, actually. When I found out I was pregnant, I was only 3½ weeks along, leaving a heck of a lot of weeks to wonder and worry and be sick. Really, really sick. I wore sea bands for months. They didn’t really help me feel better, but when I didn’t wear them it was even worse. Some days I had to close my door and lay on my floor at work. I quickly learned the less populated bathrooms.

I don’t think I ever wanted something as much as I wanted a baby. God created me to be a mother. I remember being a very young child thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up and I always knew my answer: I wanted to be a mom. The reality of my life now looks different than I imagined, but that doesn’t diminish the love I have for Carter or the fullness of my heart. There are things I’m good at, but this is most definitely my purpose. This is what I was created to do. I am so very thankful for all of the blessing the Lord has given us. Thankful for His strength pushing us on through many sleepless nights. Thankful for His guidance in our imperfect lives, walking us down the path of parenting. Thankful that He entrusted us to take care of Carter while he’s here on Earth.

I can’t imagine life any other way and I couldn’t love my little boy more.

But next time I’m pregnant, I’m telling Seth via fireworks and/or skywriting.

Props to all you working folk.

So it's been over a month since I went back to work and if there's one word to sum it all up, it is "EXHAUSTING." Like all things in life, it's an adjustment and we'll get used to it, but my gosh, I don't know how people with 5 kids, all of them at different schools and different schedules and mom's off to work (loaded down with 3 different bags, in my case) and dad's out the door (loaded down with diaper bag, baby, and work stuff) and much chaos abounds.

The glue keep all our stuff together is we have a pretty easy going baby and we're both giving everything we have to make this work.

Here's our day:
Our alarms start going off at 5:45. Half the time Carter is awake and babbling, sometimes more forcefully squawking.

By 6:00, Seth is in the shower and I get Carter up. Stella is thrilled to see Seth and I and follows me into the nursery, crashing forcibly into walls and smacking her tail into crib rails.

While Seth gets ready, I feed Carter. We switch around 6:30, hopefully Seth is ready by then. Then I get ready, pack my pump (this whole process is complicated by the fact that I'm still exclusively nursing), pack my laptop, and the rest of my stuff. Then I pack a cooler for Carter. I try to do everything else the night before. Seth gets Carter changed and dressed for the day, puts the dog out, and we try to be out the door by 7am. Seth drops Carter off, goes to work.

I'm usually home around 5 and Seth and Carter walk in around 5:30. I try to squeeze as much as humanly possible into those 30 minutes, even though I would really like to just collapse. I also try to give Stella some attention. Clean the pump, put away milk, start some laundry, vacuum the tile (between Stella and my post-baby hair loss... my vacuum and I spend a lot of time together).

We try to hang out from 5:30-6, maybe start dinner, play with Carter a little. Then I feed Carter at 6, followed by bath time, some cuddle time, a story or a song (mostly determined by who is putting Carter to bed). Carter's usually in bed around 7, at which point we make and eat dinner, clean for 15 minutes, and do some quiet time. I try to pack Carter's bag for the next day. I pump and go to bed around 9:30-10. Seth gives Carter a bottle at 10:30 and goes to bed and then we start it all over.

I've never loved the weekend so much.

Sweet pleasures of life.

Last night, I laid in bed listening to the baby monitor. I do this often, just listen to Carter babbling to himself. In case he hasn't told you, that kid has a LOT to talk about.

Last night was even sweeter because Seth was in there too and they were playing as Seth was putting Carter back down and they were laughing together. Which was so sweet, even at midnight or whatever time it was when we all should have been sleeping. I felt like a fortunate onlooker, listening to the soundtrack of my precious baby and his daddy. I reminded myself of the grinch when his heart grew three sizes that day.

A Call for Help

I write this with a very heavy heart. A girl on the Nest's boards passed away this weekend on Sunday, September 27th due to an amniotic fluid embolism, just hours after giving birth to her first child, Gabrielle.

Gabrielle is doing well and will be released from the NICU this week.

Jewelyn's husband, Philip, is going to need all the help he can get over the coming months and years.

A PO Box has been set up to receive formula checks and diaper coupons. Any and all brands will be accepted, and whatever Philip doesn't use will be donated to the Liz Logelin Foundation.

Formula checks and diaper coupons can be sent to:

Jewelyn Okamoto Memorial Fund

PO Box 235971

Encinitas, CA 92023-5971


For those who want to send packages (larger than an envelope), the address for that is:

Brandi Futrell
c/o Jewelyn Okamoto Memorial Fund
14928 S. Maple Ave.
Gardena, CA 90248

You can also send a donation to the paypal account email address, 4jewelyn@gmail.com, in case anyone wants to send a couple dollars to help her husband and baby.

Please keep this sweet baby girl and her daddy in your prayers.

3 whole months!

Dear Carter,

You’re no longer a newborn anymore. You’re officially 3 months old and we cannot believe how much you’re growing and changing every day.

First and foremost, I have some big news. The most amazing thing happened this month: YOU SLEPT! The sun is brighter, flowers are more fragrant, the birds are cheerier, and the world is a beautiful place! One day right after you hit two months I think you must have realized that sleep was a good idea after all. You napped without a fight, and stayed asleep longer than I’d ever seen you nap. A week or two after that, you started sleeping longer at night. And, OH MY GOSH, it was fabulous. I woke your dad up in the middle of the night to ask if he had been up with you and maybe I just somehow slept through it (HA, as if that would happen), and he hadn’t, so my first thought was that something terrible had happened and once I figured out that you were just fine and snoozing away I wept tears of joy. The prolonged sleep deprivation may have had something to do with the tears. We’re still working up to full nights of sleep now, but you are well on your way.

In general you’ve just been a much happier baby this month. You’re still the same snuggly, funny, adorable little boy, just a little more laid back. Much less screaming, fewer demands, lots of smiles and laughs. You’ve gone from an angry dictator to a happy baby. I’m afraid I’m jinxing it by typing those words, but my goal here is to capture the last month of your life, so I have to be honest.

You had more adventures in the first 12 weeks of your life than some kids probably have in a whole childhood. It’s just too bad you a. won’t remember them and b. slept through most of them. This month we went to the zoo again, I took you to the beach for the first time, and you attended your first birthday party. You may not remember much but I promise the pictures are cute. You can just call me the mama-razzi.

You are growing leaps and bounds developmentally. You smile and laugh ALL THE TIME now. It’s the greatest thing ever! You talk constantly, although I can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to say with all of that babbling but it sure is cute. You’re grabbing things now, too. Of all the wonderful toys we went to the store and actually paid money for, your hands are your very favorite. In fact, I think you may need a 12-step program. The brief seconds in which we must separate from your hands to pull your shirt over your head (and your head is enormous, so that takes a little while. Clothing designers did not have you in mind when they designed shirts) or wash those little fingers when we bathe you almost require an intervention. For a little guy, you’re quite strong and you do NOT want to be parted from your dear precious hands. As much as you love them, you’re just beginning to figure out that they might be, like, connected to you or something. Your dad calls it a standoff- you stare at one of them with a look that he narrates: “It’s you and me, hand. And you are getting in my mouth!” You proceed to very slowly pull said hand toward your mouth but it usually ends up in your eye, crashing into your ear, beating your forehead, and THEN, oh sweet, sweet victory, IN YOUR MOUTH! A few days ago you actually reached out for a toy, grabbed on, and proceeded to attempt the same path to your mouth. Let’s just say you haven’t quite gotten that skill down, but it’s mere moments before you are grabbing at everything and promptly sticking it in your mouth. We’re in trouble.

This has been a month of change. Not surprisingly, nothing has phased you. I had to go back to work last week, which was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. You were completely oblivious. You’re quite lucky to spend the day with your grandma where you get more attention than is probably healthy. Your auntie Anna left for college in New York, which was again harder for me than for her or you. On the way home from saying goodbye to her I told your dad I’m locking you in your room until you’re 25. Maybe longer. He’s trying to talk me out of it, but I’m still contemplating it.

Last week marked the 8th anniversary of September 11. It’s hard to describe that day and what it meant, but just know that I hugged you a little longer that day in remembrance of the incredible brevity of life. I even ditched my structure and parenting theories and let you sleep in my arms instead of putting you down in your crib. I’m pretty sure one nap won’t ruin you and at the end of the day, if you feel safe and cared for and loved, I feel like I’ve done my job.

Love,
Mama

The epic battle of motherhood

Next week I go back to work. I've agonized over this day and it continues to barrel at me faster than I can handle. I do feel fortunate for a variety of reasons, including that I really enjoy my job and the people I work with, I'm lucky enough to be able to ease back into work, and Carter will be in the very loving hands of his grandmother, to name a few. But none of that really makes me feel any better about leaving my baby. I do tend be a (huge) stress ball about things like this, so I'm sure the reality will not be as bad as the anticipation of it but I'm still a bit fired up about this.

I was reading a checklist in What to Expect the First Year about going back to work vs. staying home. They really just should have said that all moms should stay home because the list was really biased and guilt-inducing. For example, one point asked how you would feel as a mother to not be there for your child's major milestones. How are you going to feel when your child says his first words without you there? Takes his first steps into someone else's arms? I'm pretty sure that no mother is going to think that sounds like the best idea ever and run right out for a job application.

I have always been very sensitive to the argument of working mothers versus stay at home moms, probably the sociologist in me, but I'm more passionate about it now than ever. I'm not going back to work because I don't like being home with my child. In fact, to the surprise of everyone in my life who knows me and knows that I don't sit still very well, I am content to play on the floor and I'm not crawling the walls at all. I'm not going back to work because I feel like I'm an educated woman who needs to use my skills, feels like I need to earn some control over my destiny, need the interaction, etc. There is one reason I'm going back to work: the dolla dolla bill y'all.

In our family, both parents need to work and I wish so-called modern society was a bit more sensitive to this plight. The whole argument of your wages from working outside the home are basically a wash when you consider the cost of day-care, work clothes, commuting etc. doesn't really work for most people. Yes, we will need to spend some money for me to make money, but there's no amount of corner-cutting and belt-tightening that eliminates the need for me to work. Unless we cut out those frivolous expenses like food, electricity, water, and shelter. If this wasn't the case, I don't know what I would do. I'd probably stay home, but truthfully I don't really let myself think too far down that path. All of those checklists of how to evaluate if you want to go back to work or not really should be more like a choose-your-own-adventure book. The question "do you need two incomes?" is not one box on a huge list of pros and cons. If you don't, proceed to page 72 and think about it some more. If you do need your income, that's the end of the list. Maybe instead we can use the remaining space and energy to support families who need to make it work. Seth and I have a pretty successful partnership and since we both work outside of the home, we both work in the home. That's a huge key to me keeping it together. Also, that battle of working moms and stay at home moms has got to stop. I would love to see women (and men) just get along and be sensitive to the challenges of everyone's very different lives, whether your reality is to stay home with your kids, work, not have kids, or whatever your path may be.

And, let's just go ahead and skip the part about your baby taking his first steps into someone else's arms. It's an unfortunate possibility, but I've already talked to Carter and he's agreed to be very boring with everyone but me. So at least there's that.

Anyone else do this? hmmm, no? just me?

Sometimes when I've had a particularly challenging or grueling day, the kind that take every ounce of my strength to get through, I think to myself at the end of it "wow, I hope this isn't like groundhog's day.".The movie, not the date in February. My worst case scenario? Moving day. Who the heck wants to do that every day for the rest of their life? Unless that's your job and if so I hope you love moving days. Today was one of those days. I'm laying in bed thinking that if I have to wake up and repeat today I may just stay in bed. Then I started thinking about my quirky fear of groundhog's day and suddenly needed to share it with you. I have a lot of other quirks. I could probably write a book of my quirks and irrational fears. It might just become a surprise best seller with a subtitle like "feel normal compared to this wackadoo!" (Or wacka-dudette?) But that's another post for some other day.

Two Months Old

Dear Carter,

Today you’re two months old! To celebrate, we’re all taking a nap. Well, your father and I are, you will probably flail in your crib for a while, possibly squawk with displeasure and proceed to stay awake for the next 6 hours. I sometimes feel like I gave birth to the energizer bunny. You don’t sleep nearly enough for your age and we can’t quite figure out where you’re storing these energy reserves you seem to tap into. You still only go about 3 hours between feedings, including at night. This has been the biggest struggle with you lately and we get all sorts of unsolicited advice on how to remedy this. We’ve come to the conclusion that you’re hungry a lot and not ready to go more than 3 (or sometimes 2, occasionally 4) hours. Some people have told us to ignore you and just not feed you. That would be disastrous. If you stay asleep too long and wake up too hungry you get absolutely furious. It’s those time when you beat me with your tiny little fist and claw my chest while I try my best to soothe you. So, yeah, ignoring you… bad idea for you, bad idea for the mental state of your parents. Others think you need to be swaddled. Those people don’t know you too well, Houdini. You haven’t wanted to be swaddled since before we left the hospital. If we try, which we gave up about 6 weeks ago, you voice your displeasure and thrash violently until you can free yourself. You prefer to sleep like a starfish, all of your limbs extended. For now, we’re zombified and just trying to make it through each night and resulting blurry days.

We had you dedicated on my birthday. I won’t publish the details of the difficulties you provided that day… let’s just say you owe us. I guess it was partially our fault for trying to dedicate you just shy of 5 weeks old. It was a very special moment for us, for us to basically commit to raising you in the ways of the Lord and pray that one day you would embrace Him. Carter, we want many things for you but nothing more than our desire for you to know God. We will try our best as your parents but we will undoubtedly fail. He never will. His love is perfect and He loves you more than we ever could. Let me tell you little guy, that is a LOT because it’s hard for me to imagine anyone loving you more than we do.

This has been a fun month for us. We know you a little better, you know us a lot better. You lock your eyes on me when I walk into a room and you recognize our voices and Stella’s barking. You used to hear our voices and look all around trying to find out where that strange noise was coming from. Now, you immediately turn your head toward our voices and stare at us. This week you’ve started smiling a lot. When I come get you out of your crib after you wake up you always give me the biggest smile and coo at me. It pretty much melts my heart with joy. You’re also very smiley when I change your diaper, which makes it a little better when you pee on me. Still, I could do without the being peed on part. Simply put, you learned how to work me before you were even two months old, smiling at precisely the right moments.

You laughed for the first time last weekend. Your dad had just weighed you and came out to report you were tipping the scales at 13 pounds. He held you up in the air at his eye level and announced in a very silly voice “13 pounds! That’s bigger than a ham!” Apparently that was the most hilarious thing you’d ever heard and you let out the cutest giggle I’d ever heard. You’ve laughed a few times since then, though we’re sure you have no idea what you’re really laughing at.
You are such a little sponge, growing leaps and bounds. It seems like every day you are less of a (very cute lovable) blob and more of a little person. Your dad says you’re the most amazing baby in the world. You like to stand and support all your weight. If you had the muscle control I just know you would be running down the halls already. You’ve been picking your head up from the first few days of your life and now you’re really starting to figure out what to do with it. You’re beginning to understand that your hands are connected to your arms and that you have control over them. Before you would sort of dive after them as they flew by your face, a bit like Stella trying to catch a fly. Even your pediatrician thinks you’re advanced. In fact, at your one month check up he told you to slow down and enjoy being a baby. He also told you to sleep more but that yielded no results. And remember the controversy over whether or not you had actually rolled over last month? You solved that by rolling over for real shortly after I wrote that letter, on the day you reach one month. I don’t know where you think you’re going but it seems you have big plans and places to go. I just hope some of those plans involve us, because we sure do like you.

Love,
Mama

Missing: July

Last seen for a fleeting moment somewhere around Independence Day.

Seriously, I can't believe it's August and Carter is 7 weeks old. I know everyone says that about their kids, but we had the most chaotic July ever, so that really just accelerated our lives to warp speed. The last half of June was very blurry with very little sleeping and lots of screaming and before we really got through that July hit. A few of our highlights:

• 27 straight days of family visiting from other states (3 separate sets- some of Seth's family from Rhode Island and New Hampshire, some of my family from Colorado, then some more of Seth's family from Vermont
• Chandra and Ian's wedding and accompanying wedding festivities
  
• Many birthdays, including my sister's, my dad's, and my own plus the resulting festivities
  
• Our anniversary, which was pretty sad actually. Our big highlight was picking which frozen meal we wanted to microwave. We're still planning to go out to a slightly fancier dinner at some point, but very small babies make for difficult date nights.
• Carter's first trip to the zoo
• Carter's first Padres game. They lost, of course, and I almost lost my mind worrying. We had really amazing seats on the field level right behind 3rd plate. Translation: gazillions of foul balls flying at us faster than you can imagine.
  
• My sister and I went to the Fray concert. They were great live, I definitely recommend seeing them.
• Some fence building
  

Add in a few sicknesses (one for Carter, a few for me), not nearly enough sleep, and it's really not surprising July was a blur. And that's just what I can remember off the top of my head.

So here we are in August. Hopefully this month will pass a little slower and we won't get sucked up, spun around, and spit out on the other side. Not that we didn't enjoy July, because we did and it was lots of fun, it just wore us out. I plan to take in every moment with Carter before I go back to work in a month and spend lots of time with my sister before she leaves for college in New York at the end of the month. We want to do much, much less, savor the summer, hang out with friends, and spend time with our little family.

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
-Ferris Bueller

Excuses, excuses....

I would really like to blog more, but I just CAN'T. I can't even find the time to call people back these days. Yes, the small infant has something to do with it. But that is coupled with a ridiculously busy July (my birthday, Anna's birthday, my dad's birthday, several other birthdays), our anniversary, a wedding thrown in this year, etc. To make this year particularly chaotic, we have had family in town in force. First Seth's, then mine, now Seth's again. We've had family in town for the last 23 days. We haven't had a free weekend in quite some time, and we're not sleeping much due to the wee bundle.

So, in time, we will return. For now, we're just trying to survive!

Growing Boy!

Carter is officially growing. He's 2 pounds and 2 inches above his birth weight and length, measuring in at 11 pounds and 23 inches.

The doctor said he is thriving really well, hitting all of his milestones and is actually advanced developmentally. Being an overachiever, I'm of course proud of him, but really can't take any credit. I do spend all (and it really feels like ALL) of my time feeding him, so maybe the growth has something to do with me, but his rolling over and all of that, not really my doing.

The one thing the doctor did say is that he'd like him to be sleeping in longer stretches at night. All I could think was "YOU AND ME BOTH DOC!"

A quarter century.

Yesterday was my 25th birthday. I'll start by prefacing this with the fact that birthdays are a very big deal to me, and I was raised in a family that put birthdays right up there with national holidays. (interestingly, I hate working on my birthday. it just feels wrong).

This birthday was quite different. Probably because 5 week old babies don't understand birthdays and that mama just really wants to sleep. that's all I wanted- sleep. Carter picked that particular night and day to deviate from his normal pattern and be hungry all flippin day. Seriously, the kid was crying to eat every 2 hours. And all that eating led to lots of... the results of eating. A few at very inconvenient times. I mean, VERY. I'll spare you the details but be assured that Carter will be hearing that story and owing us for the rest of his life.

To really sum it up, I'm stealing a quote from dooce.com blogger Heather Armstrong. She's kind of my (and every other bloggers) hero as she makes a living blogging. Oddly enough we share a birthday. Even more odd is that she had a baby the day before Carter was born. So here's her summary of her birthday:

"Yesterday was my 34th birthday, and I spent it much like we've been spending all of our days in the last five weeks, stumbling around in a sleep-derived haze of who are you? Where am I? What's my name again? I mean, we've sort of got a rhythm going, one where the drummer and guitarist are playing two different songs, and the lead singer is just making up words as it goes along, and the sound is just awful but we're calling it "art." "

It wasn't a bad day and had many great moments, including dedicating Carter and lots and lots of family, but it was just weird. Seth and I had already agreed to celebrate on another, less chaotic day. I didn't have a cake, and the only people that sang to me were waiters. Not to mention my gift from my mother was bookends of Carter's initials, a sippy cup and bib set, and a webcam (and I'm pretty sure that's so she can see Carter more often). Seth did do a really good job taking care of Carter as much as he could (though the day also presented obstacles for that) and I got many very nice messages and birthday wishes. And my mom did throw in a docking station as well, I think maybe just so there was something for me. Or maybe so I could charge the camera and take more pictures of Carter to send her.

One Month Old

Dear Carter,

Today you turn one month old and I’m happy to report that we’ve all survived the first few weeks of your life! We have so enjoyed having you here and love getting to know you and watch you grow. We’ve learned a lot and occasionally you’ve been patient with us, though I think sometimes you wonder about our parenting skills (usually while screaming).

Speaking of screaming, one of the many things we’ve learned about you is that you are both very vocal and have a good set of lungs on you. When we brought you home from the hospital you had screamed yourself hoarse by the second day home. In case you’re wondering, it didn’t slow you down from screaming more. I have a few nicknames for you- Fussbucket, Squirmy McSquawkerson, Angry Dictator, etc. In fact, I’m trying to type this while you squirm and fuss in my arms. Stella is very protective and aware of you, but even she needs a break sometimes. After one particularly rough night of much screaming she would not come back inside after we let her out in the morning. I think she was telling us “no, really guys… I’m good out here in the sunroom. You can keep that loud thing in there, I’ll just be out here for a while.”

Luckily you are very cute and this has proved to be part of your survival tactic. That was one of the first things your dad told me when you were born, first that you were here (and let me tell you, that was shocking to all of us as I don’t think anyone really expected you to fit!) and second that you were really cute. Even the nurses at the hospital continued to tell us you were a very cute baby, and they see a lot of babies. When the doctors handed you to me, I was completely overwhelmed to see your beautiful eyes looking up at me and feel you nuzzle in to my chest. From that moment we knew our lives and our hearts and their capacity to love would never be the same. On a funny note, you immediately kicked the nurse and then peed on her only seconds after being born. You are a very active baby, which doesn’t surprise me one bit based on the kung fu you constantly practice while I was pregnant.

You are just the snuggliest baby and I absolutely love that. I sometimes feel like there’s nowhere in the world you’d rather be then cuddled up on my chest. There were many nights in the very beginning of your life that the only way any of us could get any sleep was to lay you on our chests and cuddle you in our arms. The very second we set you in your crib, no matter how asleep you were, you would immediately start crying. There were times when your father rescued me from the really rough nights to let me get some sleep and I would wake up to find him on the loveseat, with his legs dangling over the edge and his arms curled around your tiny body while you snoozed on his chest. Usually the dog was laying right below both of you. That completely melted my heart.

We’ve had quite a crazy month full of family and festivities since you arrived. The first two weeks it felt like we had a revolving door of visitors who want to meet you. That’s probably why you wouldn’t sleep in your crib- you were growing quite accustomed to being held every second of the day. Your dad celebrated his first Father’s Day by sleeping in until 11 and then hanging out with family. It was such a special day, and I can’t even describe how much I love to see you and your daddy together. Chandra and Ian’s wedding brought many Jobins out west. We dressed you up in a little suit for the wedding and I have to say it was the cutest thing ever. I even found a tie to match your dad’s tux (he was a groomsman and I was a bridesmaid). Then the Hopkins came out and the Wyckoff gatherings began in full force, including your first trip to the zoo. To be honest, I’m not sure you cared one bit about the zoo. It was just a different setting for a diaper blowout. You've slept through most of your milestones so far, but we have some awfully cute pictures!

We’re pretty sure your favorite game is to go through as many diapers as possible. This exasperates your father like you wouldn’t believe. The time he went through 4 diapers just for one changing I thought his head might explode. Your father is big on logic and reason, and you have yet to embrace those concepts. He is very proud of how advanced you are, though. When you were less than a week old you rolled over on your side and you’ve turned yourself 90 degrees in your crib. You rolled over yesterday, but we’re still debating whether that counts because you had a pillow under your head. You were picking your head up before we even left the hospital and now you’ll pick your head up while I’m holding you and look straight at me for several seconds. Then you flop over and flail- you haven’t quite mastered that skill just yet. You are just beginning to smile and coo a little. You definitely recognize your mom and dad and know who we are. And you’re ticklish! Which I enjoy exploiting. That’s just one way you’re like me. Your dad also thinks we make some of the same faces.

Carter, I hope someday you understand how much you are loved. Your grandparents, great-grandparents, aunt and uncles, all of your family and friends and especially your father and I just cannot get enough of you! Our hard drives are all rapidly filling up with the gazillions of pictures we’ve taken of you. You are such a precious gift to all of us, and I hope you feel loved for all of the days of your life.

We love you, little one.

Love,
Mama

p.s. If you want to go ahead and sleep through the night or maybe just more than two and a half hours, we're okay with that.

Precious.

I just can't get enough of this sweet little bundle.

Survival Mode...

If ever there was an excuse for not blogging, I think a newborn qualifies.

Carter James Jobin was (FINALLY) born on June 15, 2009 at 11:17pm. He weighed in at 8 pounds, 15 ounces and was 21 inches long. Impressive for a baby induced a week early, and thank God for that. I'm still most definitely recovering from a rough labor and aftermath (and his 15 inch head), but it was a miracle in itself that I didn't have to have a c-section.

Looking back on these first 2 weeks, I can honestly say that I've never spent so much of my life on my knees in prayer. I could NOT have done this on my own, and we are just so thankful for how faithful God has been to us and how much we are blessed.


Top 10 things necessary to survive the first two weeks with Carter:

1. an amazingly supportive husband
2. awesome family and friends
3. pain medicine
4. lots and lots of lanolin, nipple shields, and ice packs
5. fierce determination
6. massive amounts of calories and copious liquid intake
7. a sense of humor
8. a sleep mask and trying to train myself to nap
9. enough humility to toss all of my preconceived notions and ideas about parenthood out the window
10. a really cute baby who loves to snuggle certainly helps!

What I will need should we decide to do this again:
Amnesia.

Thanks to everyone who has helped us through the last few weeks.

So here we are...

We're running around trying to get every last thing done before we leave. We're going to my parent's house to drop off the dog, eat dinner, and GO TO THE HOSPITAL. Not really sure when we'll get back on, but we'll try to keep you updated as soon as possible.

We're both really excited (Seth in a much calmer way than me, naturally) and apprehensive and all kinds of other emotions. I can't believe that in the next 24-36 hours we'll be holding our son. We cannot wait to meet you, little one.

Not my brightest moment.

I've always struggled with the concept of thinking through consequences as well as the idea of "pacing myself." As a pregnant lady, I've taken that to a whole new level. I do things that are just plain dumb and then 10 seconds later wonder what in the world I was thinking. Usually, this thought occurs just after I've collapsed in a heap on the couch wondering if I'll ever be able to move again.

Yesterday, it started out simple enough (it always does!). I went out to water the palm trees in our front yard. Why we even bother to water them instead of letting them die to match the desolate landscape is a whole different story. Anyway, I watered the first two and moved on to the third. Except, the third was so surrounded by weeds and these daisy weed things and a mysterious ice plant and various other things that I could barely see the palm tree. It seemed perfectly logical for me to strap on some gloves and start doing some yard work right that very second.

My thinking... "what's the worst that can happen? I go into labor... not so bad at all!" And so Stella and I descended on the yard and did not stop for a good two hours, and only then because I ran out of trashcans (after shoving the mass of weeds down over and over and over. I don't think trash cans have ever held such compact weeds).

It turns out that the worst that can happen is not going into labor but taxing every muscle between my shoulders and knees, seriously damaging some ligaments in my pelvis and thinking I'm going to die as I tried to simply roll over in bed. I'll be attending my sister's graduation today with much discomfort, taking the pregnant lady waddle to a whole new level. And, furthermore, not in labor.

We're having a baby. Like, a real one!!

As mentioned, we scheduled an induction for next week. I really REEEHHHEEELLY want to go into labor on my own. I'm consistently talking to Baby J about the reasons he really wants to join us in the outside world. Hopefully he's getting the message. We're also praying that I go into labor sooner than Sunday, which I'm sure is the more effective method.

But, if I don't go into labor in the next few days, I'll check into the hospital Sunday night. They'll start with some preparation stuff that night (I'll skip the details here, but I'd be happy to tell you more if you want to know). Then, Monday, my doctor will break my water and eventually start pitocin if needed.

I've gone back and forth on the induction a LOT. The baby is perfectly healthy and ready and my doctor wouldn't induce me if she didn't think there was a good reason to. But already Mommy Guilt is outscoring Rachel. I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm not excited about it and if it was just for my own comfort or convenience, I wouldn't do it. But, the bottom line for us was that I want to avoid a c-section if at all possible. This child is a big baby with a gigantic head and he's only getting bigger. Coupled with the fact that I do not have "birthing hips," I think it's unlikely I won't have to have a c-section, but I still think it's the best shot. We think it's the right, or at least a good, decision.

So, in a week we will be holding our little boy. If not sooner. Wow. But hey, did you hear?! Seth can cut his hair with a vacuum!!

At least I know his priorities...

Yesterday we scheduled Baby Jobin's birth. That's another post and I'll try to get back to that soon. In case I don't, we're still praying that I go into labor naturally before Monday, and would ask for your prayers too, but if not, Baby J will be here Monday. You would think this would be pretty much the most exciting thing going on in our lives at the moment. Apparently not.

This morning, Seth's status was: " words cannot describe how excited i am..." The updated status directly following was: "just got a flowbee."

(in case you don't know what a flobee is)

So, for those of you who missed it, my husband and the father of my child would like you all to know he can now cut his hair with a vacuum.

A year ago...

We were tanner, thinner (at least I was), and probably more relaxed... in Kauai. I want to go baaack!! Maybe not right this second since I'm 12,000 months pregnant, but someday. Hopefully sooner than later/never.

Racing the clock...

This is my first official week of maternity leave, and it could not have come soon enough. Granted, I'm still checking my work email far, far too often, but my physical state is such that I do not actually know if I could make it through a day in the office at this point.

So the last 3 days exclusively and few months generally have been devoted to Operation Nesting Frenzy. I should probably add an asterisk here because my desire for complete order and cleanliness has nothing to do with my pregnancy. It's just gained urgency since I know that this baby *could* be here any time now, though it's still not terribly likely. Ever since we got new carpet and had to clear out our entire house, we've been purging and organizing. Our family room and second bedroom have been massive piles of boxes and random junk needing sorting. I'm happy to say our second bedroom is now a nursery! Ready for a baby! And the family room is, well, coming along.

I've also spent a good amount of time shopping for the last few (HAHA, few...) things we needed for the baby. Seriously, this kid has so much stuff already. But, if it makes our lives easier, I think (hope?) it's worth it.

So today I'm back to the piles and organizing and cleaning, and hopefully soon things will be manageable and I'll feel like our house is ready. And then Baby J can debut whenever he wants, the sooner the better. Just not for at least one more day.

Who is sick of hearing about my pregnancy? Yeah, ME TOO!

We're still alive, and I'm still very pregnant. Baby J is doing well, although he is quite large, as we expected. A little over a week ago we had a growth scan and Baby J measured around 7 pounds. With 4 1/2 weeks to go... yikes. My doctor did say she thinks he's probably a little smaller than that and growth scans can vary a half pound either way, so maybe he'll only be 27 pounds full term instead of 29 pounds.

Seth and I were both big babies, hovering an ounce under and a little over 9 pounds (I was actually the bigger one), so I figured our babies would be big. I did not, however, consider the size of Seth's gigantic head when selecting a mate. Granted, Seth is quite tall and would look a little silly with a smaller head, but it seems like everyone comments on the size of this kid's head. Like a pregnant woman really wants to hear "wow, he has a big head!" Keep it to yourself people. Let me live in ignorant bliss!

Here's a tip for those of you with gigantic heads:
Resist the urge to play clips from So I Married an Axe Murderer (including but not limited to... "I'm not kidding, it's like an orange on a toothpick!" and "It has it's own weather system!"). Your very pregnant wife who has to birth a baby who inherited your head will likely not find it humorous. Also, trying to rationalize why he will need such a large head won't help much either.

Joking aside, it has been an extremely difficult couple of days/weeks. I'm not going to dwell there because I am incredibly thankful for the gift of being pregnant and the unbelievable blessing that this is to our family. I am praying he comes on his own in the next few weeks, but I will tell you that when my doctor mentioned the possibility of *maybe* inducing at 38 1/2-39 weeks, I practically hijacked her schedule and penciled myself in.

Happy wedding day

Our beautiful friends Aubrey and Joey are getting married today. It breaks my heart that I am not there to celebrate with them. Alas, I am busy being very pregnant with an already 7 pound baby (more on that later) and the festivities are like 8 hours away.

Aubrey was one of my first friends at UCLA and our friendship has just grown from there. She was one of my bridesmaids and I love her dearly.

(don't you think she's going to be the most gorgeous bride ever??)

Congrats you two, know that I'm there in spirit and we love you!!!

35/35!

(I actually wrote this yesterday, but got really sick before I posted it, so here it is now, even though I'm technically a day past 35/35)

How far along? 35 weeks, and 35 days to go! hence the title of this blog.

Stretch marks? not too bad, but the scale and I are not friends. I'm seeing numbers on there that I've never seen before.

Sleep: unfortunately, worse than ever. Saturday night was awful, I swear this baby was throwing a rave in there. I couldn't fall asleep until sometime after 11, was up from 1:30 to about 4, then woke up again a little before 7. I do not understand this at all.

Best moment this week: It's been a decent week, and I haven't updated in a while, so I'll say two- baby shower the weekend before last, and maternity photo shoot by the fabulous mike and rebekah.

Movement: SO MUCH.

Food cravings: nothing comes to mind

Labor Signs: I thought he was lower, but today he seems to be up a little higher. lots of pressure and some contractions, nothing really helpful.

Belly Button in or out? In

What I miss: having energy to match my nesting instinct. There is just so much I want to do, but I physically cannot.

What I am looking forward to: besides meeting this little guy? So You Think You Can Dance. Yeah… I’m addicted to that show.

Weekly Wisdom: every pregnancy is different and you can't use anyone else as your standard. I have been feeling so guilty about going out on leave before my due date, but this morning I was walking down the stairs in absolute agony, trying to hold back tears while my pelvis was trying to splitting apart, and I realized it was probably time. Yes, I wanted to work the whole time and lots of women can do that. But I'm coming to realize that I can't, and that's okay.

Milestones: we're pretty much ready (I think!). We just need to install the car seat and I need to pack my bag. Everything in the nursery is all set and ready for a little inhabitant (which Stella thinks is her).

Dear baby,

I love you very much and I really do enjoy feeling you move about. However, we need to talk about some of your behavior.

1. Get your feet out of my ribs. I think you are trying to reach my tonsils to use them as a punching (kicking?) bag half the time and the other half you use my ribcage as leverage for stronger head butting, and both of these are just plain uncomfortable.

2. Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, let your mother sleep. I know there are many sleepless nights ahead, but I see no reason to start now.

Happy Mother's Day

I have a new favorite site. Maybe it's because I'm about to enter motherhood myself or maybe it's because I get texts like this from my own mother, or maybe it's because I can appreciate a crazy email... I digress.

http://www.postcardsfromyomomma.com

A few favorites...

Spring Cleaning?

Mom: aASDFGHJKL;’
Mom: 890-
Me: ?
Mom: SORRY i WAS VACUMING THE KEYBOARD

Mom, Dad, and Facebook: A Dangerous Combo

Mom: How do I unfriend on Facebook?

Me: What, you only have like 8 friends, who do you want to get rid of.

Mom: That’s really none of your business, and I have 40 friends thank you very much.

Me: That’s right, Dad has 8 heheh

Mom: Not for long!

you don’t TELL me anything!

Mom: I found a girl who’s perfect for you!
Me: What makes her so perfect?
Mom: She has brown hair and she drinks
Me: … That’s it? That’s all you think I go for?
Mom: Well that’s all I seem to be able to surmise about your girlfriends from the facebook pictures. Since you don’t TELL me anything else about them.
Me: You’re facebook stalking me mom.
Mom: I might call it “being a mother”
Me: I might call it “you’re pushing your facebook friendship privileges”

Travel Advice

Airports are the best places to kidnap someone. Be watchful. Stay together. Buddy system. If you are kidnapped, speak french… no one wants them!

Question: What if you're the nesting type before pregnancy?

Answer: YOU WILL GO INSANE.

My nesting instinct has kicked with such force it is literally causing panic attacks. Of course, I still have zero energy, so it's not doing much good, just causing tons of anxiety about all of the stuff I *want* done. Le sigh.

I wish I was sleeping.

How far along? 32 weeks, 4 days.
Stretch marks? still escaping them for the most part.
Sleep: NOT GOOD. Don't ask that question- it's not safe territory. I still get irritated in the middle of the night as I lie awake and Seth and Stella snooze away.
Best moment this week: Vegas trip
Movement: Tons, although he's running out of room so it feels a little different
Food cravings: mostly just water. I have an insatiable thirst lately.
Labor Signs: Nothing to crazy other than some weird ones on the way home from vegas. I really thought I might give birth on the 15 outside of Baker.
Belly Button in or out? still in. I don't think my belly button is going to pop. It is definitely NOT normal looking though.
What I miss: Oh, the list is so long!! Mostly sleep, followed by my mind.
What I am looking forward to: Sleeping this weekend (no really, I'm tired. Did I mention that?)
Weekly Wisdom: If you are Baskin-Robbins, exclude pregnant women from 31 cent scoop day.
Milestones: Not so much a milestone as a funny memory- Seth pushed me up and down almost the entire Las Vegas stip in a wheelchair. I guess that is a milestone- the one where I become too pregnant to do things normal people do without serious contractions and consequences.

A funny little encounter

I met the sweetest little girl Tuesday night who cracked me up. I was killing some time before a work dinner (an annoying late one, might I add). I was waddling out of a shoe store and this little girl, probably about 8, was leaving with her mom and her little sister. When she saw me coming toward the door, and I'm hard to miss really, she ran back to hold the door open for me. It was precious. Our brief interaction went like this:

Me: Thank you!

Her: You're welcome. (without even a breath of pause) Is there a baby in there?

Me: Yup, there's a little boy in there.

She looked at her mom like I was the first pregnant woman she had ever seen for reals. Dude, you would have thought she had just made the first confirmed unicorn spotting.

Her: Whatcha gonna name him?

Me: I don't know, maybe Carter. What do you think- is that a good name?

She contemplated this and decided it must have been acceptable, but apparently not as good as some other ideas she had.

Her: Yeah, what about sketch?

Me: Hmmm, sketch (I was just trying not to die laughing at this point). Maybe as a middle name?

Her: Or Thomas? He could be Sketch Thomas Whatever-your-last-name-is!

I don't know who this little girl was or what kind of baby name ideas conjure up Sketch and Thomas in such close succession, but I want to adopt her.

One of those weeks...

It has been a rough week all around. It's just one of those weeks that starts out and seems like it will be good, but turns out not so good. Kind of like these:






I love that second one. I think my week just got a little better laughing at these.

WHAT is going on in there?!

From the first moment I truly felt this baby, there was never anything I could describe in soft, fluffy language. No "flutters," no "bubbles popping," no "butterfly wings," no, nothing even sort of resembling that. It has always been like "HEY, I'M STILL IN HERE! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!" (He must get that need for attention from his dad). I most fondly think of him as a very feisty hockey puck, sliding around and slamming into whatever various bones and organs happen to be in his way.

Actually, I was in the doctor's office and she was listening to his little heart beat when I felt him move for the first time. And felt him I did. I had just been telling her I hadn't felt him at all and she reassured me I would and he was fine, blah blah blah. When I felt that kick, you could even hear it loud and clear across the doppler. She felt him push away the doppler wand. My doctor looked at me and asked if I felt it, and I'm pretty sure if I'd say no she would have promptly signed me up for some testing because I couldn't have ANY nerve endings if I'd missed that kick.

As he's getting bigger and running out of room, it's pure entertainment... for Seth. He laughs as he feels (and sees) hands flail, elbows crash around, feet pounding. The other night, he did something that was the strangest sensation ever and Seth and I both kinda screamed it was so weird. I find it less amusing at times when I'm in serious meetings and trying to keep my entire body from jolting at the force.

I've come to the conclusion that there's only one logical explanation. Somehow a pinball machine got stuck in there, and the regular, shiny little metal ball was replaced with a bowling ball.

I have been full since Easter. probably longer.

Somewhere inside my womb a little boy is begging his mother to lay off the jelly beans. If you listen really closely, you can almost hear a faint voice... "come on lady, it's already cramped enough in here without you single-handedly depleting the west coast of its sugar supply!"

When you obsessively love your dog...

From USA Today- "Honda Japan has designed dog friendly car, termed as the WOW concept. WOW stands for Wonderful open-hearted wagon. The car will be unveiled later at the Tokyo Motor show. A special crate for dogs in the glove apartment allows owners to interact with their pets while driving. A bigger crate pops up from the floor in the back seat area and can be folded back into the floor when it's not needed. For even bigger dogs, just buckle them up with a special seat belt to the floor. The big danger for pets riding along in cars is that they get thrown out during a crash. The W.O.W comes with removable, washable, roll-out flooring and has wide sliding doors to keep dogs happy."

Could this debut anywhere else? No.
Is the glove compartment kennel completely ridiculous? Yes.
Do I want a conversion kit for my own Honda Pilot? Yes. Resoundingly so, I must admit. I won't lie, I would totally talk to Stella in traffic. I talk to other drivers, why not her? Plus, the mental picture of Stella in the glove compartment kennel is almost too much. I'm sure she wouldn't fit, but a girl can dream.

3rd Tri is the charm!

How far along? 29 weeks
Total weight gain/loss: I think like 20 pounds, but I really don't know for sure. I feel like a boat. (to which my husband would add "a beautiful, pregnant boat")
Maternity clothes? the bad news is that I'm OUTGROWING my MATERNITY clothes! Oh sweet mother of pearl, it's going to be a long two months ahead. I blame my freakishly long torso, which put me at a disadvantage from the beginning.
Stretch marks? none yet, and I continue to coat myself in lotions and potions (even though it's probably all genetics)
Sleep: my dog and husband seem to sleep pretty well, and I often lie awake envious of them
Best moment this week: multiple- new carpet! surprise-ish baby shower at work! and a really good appointment last week (see previous post).
Movement: More than a hockey puck.
Food cravings: everything. Fruit- strawberries, apples, tangelos.
Gender: Still a boy.
Labor Signs: Just a few contractions here and there.
Belly Button in or out? in, but shallower
What I miss: good, quality, wonderful sleep.
What I am looking forward to: Easter! and Easter candy! oh wait, I already started eating that... so just Easter I guess.
Weekly Wisdom: The receptionist at the doctor's office needs to watch herself. She makes these snippy little comments and one day I may not be in the mood to smile back.
Milestones: the nursery is coming along. it now has new carpet, a new door, and half the closet is baby-devoted.

Baby Jobin update!

We just got home from a very good 28-week scan. I could not be happier to report that everything looks great. There were a few things that have popped up along the way that the doctors were a little concerned about and wanted to keep an eye on, and all of those things seem to have gone away and the doctor thinks everything looks good.

Highlights from today's appointment:

• Baby J is cute! we got to see a really good shot of his face, before he promptly began to hide it with both hands. We think he has his dad's nose.
• Unfortunately for mama, he also has his dad's head. the exact words were "wow, this baby has a really big head!"
• Unfortunately for baby, he also appears to have his dad's ARF (angry resting face). of course, that could have something to do with him being annoyed at us and trying to hide.
  
• He has 10 little fingers and 10 little toes, which was so sweet to see.
  
• He's measuring in the 80th percentile (again, bad news for mama). He's just 2 ounces shy of 3 pounds. And the way I'm eating, someone is about to go through a growth spurt. It better be him and not me.
  

In other news, happy birthday to the woman who birthed me! My mom is 50 and fabulous today.

Ode to a wonderful husband

I actually considered writing an ode to my husband. That lasted about 5 minutes and then I realized that I realistically have zero time to devote to iambic rhyming (if that's even how you write an ode; all I remember is something about 10 line stanzas).

So I'll stick to regular prose. My husband is great. I don't know how I could make it through this pregnancy without him. He is amazingly supportive and helpful and a darn hard worker. In general, this time of year is pretty insane for me and Seth has been more than supportive of my crazy hours and the stress I try not to bring home. This weekend we had to pack up the most of our house in preparation for our new carpet. "We" did none of that, as I ended up being pretty sick all weekend and I can only lift 10 pounds as it is. He did not once complain (except to tell me that I have too much junk and compare me to my mother).

I love that guy. And it's ridiculous how much the dog loves him. I can't wait to see this little baby with his daddy, because I know he will love that guy too.

What's in a name?

We have spent hours upon hours trying to pick a name for this kid. Boys names are just so much tougher than girls names for us. I think we've narrowed down the list. I do, however, reserve the right to completely scrap these and start over (and it's happened before).

And now, we're taking our top choices to the masses to further complicate our decision!

Kiss me I'm (admittedly very diluted) Irish!

I really have no right to claim any Irish heritage, but there are McCoys in my lineage and my sister has a cute Irish look to her (freckles, faint reddish tint to her hair, I just got the less-endearing Irish ears).

Nonetheless, I love this holiday. Last year I was in Boston for St. Patrick's Day weekend. That, my friends, was an experience! I froze my dunkin donuts off watching the Southie parade with my mom (of course, who else would embrace the craziness with me?). I drank baileys served by the cutest irish bartender. We ate authentic Irish food at Irish pubs.

This year, I am boring. No baileys, no parades, no brashers. Today, I am just a boring pregnant lady. I hope our kids will someday love this holiday too, though the chances of them looking anything resembling Irish (or me) are quite slim. My gut tells me they will be little clones of Seth and maybe we'll learn about some Polish or Lebanese holidays.

Enjoy the day! I hope you're wearing green and maybe enjoying some Irish soda bread or a guiness, depending on how you roll. And if you ever can make it to Boston on St. Patrick's day, I highly recommend it.

Some pics from last year:


Boston PD:
Mi mama y yo, freezing (with Froganna, long story):

Froganna enjoying some Baileys: