Week 3

He's still not into being photographed.

  Since the cord-stumpage-falling-off last week, I've given Mayhem three baths.  Three obligatory baths because he had poop smeared from stem to stern.  Oy.  The last episode even got poop on me! 

  Along that same bodily function line, who knew babies were so gaseous?  I didn't expect him to be so pooty.

Columbian

Usually he passes out asleep after I feed him.  Maybe I should have drank that coffee after I fed him.

I dreamed that Dee Dee came to hold the baby.  She knocked on the carport door and I let her in.  She sat in a kitchen chair in the living room since my couch is so low and held him.  She didn't say much.  Then he started crying and I woke up.

Lesson Learned

Don't leave the baby's bath water unattended because the cat will get in it and drink it like it's open bar night at The Tepid Water Bathtub.

Week 2

  Infant photography.  Sounds simple, right?  Wrong.  One would think all that's needed is a cute baby and a camera.  Wrong again!  You also need time and tricks like b00b juice to get them slightly sleepy and therefore able to transform the tiny tyrant into a peaceful p-p-p......person?  I lost my alliteration there.

  Take this week's photo, for instance.  Mayhem was asleep.  I thought, "I'll just move him from his crib to this blanket and get a few pictures."  You can probably guess where this is going.  I have photographic evidence of what he thought.

"Take my picture-- it ain't happenin', lady!"

(In my head, Mayhem is very sarcastic.  He also thinks I have the brainpower of one of those broken bricks out in my garden.)

  After my first attempt didn't work out as planned it was time to enact Operation Milk Mustache (lame name for a covert operation, I know, but everything else I came up with sounded like something a psycho would do to your drink in a bar right before you wake up in a dumpster or something.)  Thirteen minutes later, Mayhem was pretty woozy and quite cooperative.

I felt like raising my hands in victory, also.

"What can I do to them tonight?"

  Mayhem has been living up to his nickname the past few days.  Monday night he became absolutely furious at me for daring to wipe his dirty behind while changing his diaper and proceeded to scream and then hold his breath until his lips were the shade of eggplant.  I was pretty calm because I knew eventually he'd pass out and then start breathing again, but I still didn't like the idea of my brand new kid pitching a hissy fit and not being big enough to understand any punishment.  He did it again last night and this morning, although not as long or as intense.

  Today was his official two-week check up and five days since his last weigh in.  I feel like I'm trying to grow a wrestler or something with all this "weigh in" business. 

  "And in the blue corner, it's Baby Mayhem, weighing in at a whopping 6 pounds, 4 ounces and standing laying 19 inches long!!!!!!"

  I was quite proud of Boots and myself for packing it to him the past few days.  (I've been feeding him and then handing him off to Boots for a supplemental bottle and it has helped.)  I was just hoping for six pounds. 

  That brings his weight up 6 ounces from birth and his height one inch.  He's still little, but he's growing. 

  Yesterday his cord fell off in his diaper.  I didn't feel the need to fish it out and keep it.  The whole body-parts-falling-off-randomly thing is kinda gross.  Dried up umbilical cords are gross.  Isn't there some nasty movie where the kid eats his own cord years later?  Gag!

  At the doctor's office he peed on his face when I was changing him into a dry diaper to be weighed.  I felt kinda bad for him, but I laughed a little anyway.  Then, when the nurse stuck his heel to do the PKU retest he screamed and arched his back and peed again.  This time the pee ran up his back, out the diaper, and wet the paper on the table.  That thin paper isn't very absorbent though.

  Last week, I was kind of sad thinking about how he was a week old already and would never be this little ever again.  This week, I'm happy that we've kept him alive a solid two weeks and he's doing good.  I like him being cuddly and small, but he will be more fun when he can maybe at least pretend to listen to me when I'm talking to him.

  **This week's background blanket was a gift to Mayhem from my step-sister.  Matching burp cloth not pictured.  :) **

Panic

  Maybe it's sleep depravitity mixed with a little bit of adjusting to a tiny, new person in the house added in with a different schedule, but the past few nights Boots and I have flipped out a little. 

  We sleep soundly, without worrying if he's still breathing since we have a fancy pants baby monitor that will sound an alarm if it doesn't detect movement for 20 seconds.  There's no hovering over the crib with one hand close to his face to detect breath.  But if one of us rolls over in bed pretty hard and bumps the other one who was previously sleeping soundly, the bumped person will sit bolt upright in bed, most likely in a terrified sweat, "Where's Mayhem?!  Did you put him back in his crib?!" 

  The offending person then has the job of reassuring the other person that Mayhem is in fact, fine, and has not been in our bed at all. 

  I'm not sure where this fear comes from since everytime Mayhem has ever fallen asleep with one of us looks like this......

 

or this.

 

  Then again, I do know where this fear comes from.  In my five years in the funeral business, I have tended to so many dead babies that have died because of co-sleeping or family sleeping or whatever you want to call it, but it amounts to sleeping in the parents' bed.  I've always thought about how sad it was because this death could have easily been prevented. 

  If I'm terrified now, what will I do in 16 years when he gets his license and starts driving?  I'll probably have to be medicated!

  Before he was born, one of the many times Boots and I were trolling the baby aisle in Target, I saw this which made me feel a lot better about the families that still choose to sleep with their baby.  Maybe when he starts driving Nerf cars will be real and not something I made up, if someone can figure out how to make Nerf water resistant.

Today

After two years of wondering everyday when it would happen, I finally locked my keys in the car.

Week 1

He was kinda mad, but I was running out of daylight.  One of my work friends gave us this blanket the day after he was born when she came to see us at the hospital.

Pet Peeve

Dear Random Lady,
Talking loud on your phone in public i. e. in line at the post office, and blabbing your stupid business really gets on my nerves.  Shut up and hang up!

38 Weeks

I took these pictures last Tuesday morning.  It's a good thing, too, because Tuesday night I looked like this...

I can't believe Mayhem will be a week old tomorrow.

Baby Mayhem

12:28 AM
5 pounds, 14 ounces
18 inches

Just got admitted.  Having the baby today.

Is This It?

This time stamp is real, this is not a scheduled post.  It is 2 AM and I am awake.  Very awake.  This is unusual for me because I have a very strong desire to be asleep between the hours of 9 PM and 5 AM.

Sunday afternoon I had a little "Oh, my water might have broken" false alarm.  I had just come out of the bathroom and I thought I peed on myself even though it was more than I just peed, but the experts in my life (one husband, one mother, one aunt, two friends, and one doctor) thought maybe my water did break since I am so close to my due date and should be checked out.  After much resistance on my part (I hate hospitals and all those beeping machines seriously make me nauseous), I finally agreed to a trip to the hospital to get checked out.  After an embarrassing wheelchair ride (there was nothing wrong with my legs!) to the third floor a very nice nurse delivered the verdict- membranes still intact, not much change from Thursday's doctor's appointment.  I guess I really did pee in my own pants.  Several times.  And all day Monday.  So gross, so embarrassing.  Nobody tells you about that part in the books.  You read about the hemorrhoids and the constipastion, but nobody mentions the need to pack adult diapers in your purse!

Monday I finally felt my first contraction.  Everytime I go my nurse and my doctor ask me if I've been having any contractions and I always tell them no.  This week I can say yes.  They were kind of sporadic all afternoon, but now they're about every twenty minutes or so I think.  I haven't really been dutifully timing them yet, but I probably should.  Afterall, they are keeping me awake.  I need some concrete evidence!

I'm calling my doctor in the morning to see what he thinks.  I hope this is not another false alarm.  I was pretty bummed about Sunday night turning out like I thought it would (the girl who cried "baby!" that I was so determined not to be.  Oy!) and then Monday morning I was all emotional about having to work and live with myself peeing in my pants.  Which by the way cannot be pee.  It's not very pee-like to me.  At least not my pee, maybe some else's pee.  It could be worse I guess.  Like diarrhea.  This is really gross, hope you're not eating breakfast and reading this.

But I'm awake.  And I'm pacing like a caged animal.  (A lion?  A tiger?  I should be a fierce creature in case this is it.  Maybe I should channel the calmness of a lady bovine.  They're usually pretty chill.)  And I'm hungry.  And sleepy.

I feel like I should go give Nikki a bath because she kind of stinks and if I do have this baby within the next day or so I don't want to come home to a smelly dog.  Maybe I should vacuum.  I should definitely run the dishwasher and wash my bedsheets just because.

I went to Target this (I mean, Monday) afternoon and bought myself granny panties, yoga pants, and a robe to wear in the hospital as comfortable new mama clothes like has been suggested to me.  My bag is mostly packed, just have to grab my toothbrush and hair stuff when I'm really ready to go.  Should I be really ready to go now?  I have things to do tomorrow!  Our dang bre@astfeeding class that got cancelled on us last month that we had to be rescheduled for is tonight!  I don't want to miss it.  I need it!

So much to do......I'm not ready.  The baby's room needs curtains, the mirror isn't hung, and the door still squeaks!  Boots and I had plans for Wednesday and Thursday!  But I am ready.  I'm ready to meet this wild, little person that is going to supposedly change my life as much as Jesus.

Februagram

  Here's a few pictures of things I did in February (in no particular order!) and filtered using the Instagram app "Brennan,"  it's sort of my favorite right now.  You can check out January here!  You can follow me @eatingcrowpie

"It's a boy?"

I've had two random people look at my belly and ask me if I was having a boy this week.  I'm going to laugh if it's a girl.

Yesterday Boots and I went to the 37 week appointment.  Not much change from last week.  Doctor asked me if I wanted to be induced at 39 weeks for "convenience."  Maybe he hasn't figured out I'm a hippie and we don't do that.  Or maybe he thinks I'm tired of being pregnant.  I'm ready for the baby but I can wait until she/he is fully cooked.  Nobody likes raw biscuits.  (Is that gross- comparing unborn babies to food?)

Boots and I have been working on the baby's room and I can't wait to share pictures!  Just a few more things to finish then I'll show you.

I finally picked out and bought a diaper bag (it's not a diaper bag) and it is packed for the hospital.  Now I've gotta pack my own bag.