Sitting Practice...(Another Series)

 

 

Jude's Bestie

There has never been a decent picture of the two of us.

Stacey has been my friend since 7th grade. We met a few weeks into the school year, and that very day we pushed our desks together and started scheming. We were going to build a go-cart and bake a 6 tier cake. We bought candy by the bagful and ate in class, hopped hay bails and flew kites all summer...blew up 3 bags of water balloons and released them on the neighbor's lawn, and nearly burnt down his bush while roasting marshmallows.

When I called her to tell her that I was pregnant, she simply said: "Funny you should say that, because I was just at the doctor, and..."

And now, she has a little boy to play with my little boy.

I wonder what kind of mischief they will get into together.

I can't wait to find out.

* Doesn't it look like we somehow switched babies? I always thought that if I had a child, my child would be blonde and blue eyed, and that she would have the dark, swarthy child. Go figure.

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I am not one of those mothers. You know the ones I am talking about. Their child is the best of the best. The smartest, the most beautiful, the funniest. So, that being said, I would never assume that anyone would actually be interested in the fact that my son now sleeps through the night every single night. That when he smiles (which is often) his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth in the most charming way, showcasing his adorable bottom gums. That he is getting grabby, and his legs are strong, and his eyelashes extra long, and his thighs and bum have baby cellulite, and his hair is getting a reddish tint to it (ohLordhelpme).

So, I am not telling you any of these things.

I don't over-celebrate every small achievement, either. Like, for example, when Jude fills a diaper, I do not practically throw a poop party, complete with clapping and silly dancing. You would never, ever overhear me saying "Ooooh...that was an awesome fart! A cow could not have done it better!" or "That sure wasn't a crop duster! Loud and proud, eh kiddo?"

Because, farts are not funny. I am not looking forward to the day that Jude's uncles teach him the "pull my finger" game.

How 'bout you?

Think He Likes His Jolly Jumper?

Ugh.

His Saucer Thing?

Hello? Come get me now, please???

His Cloth Diapers?

 

No? I don't think so, either.

Newborn No Longer

Yes, Jude was 3 months old yesterday, and yes...I just realized how quickly time seems to move when you have a wee one. Perhaps it goes by while I am fighting the good fight against the sleep-deprived fuzzies, or maybe time whizzes by while I am gazing at my newborn, turned infant, turned baby. All I know is...it's whizzing, and I can hardly believe my little guy can laugh, tell me what he wants with his expression alone, get his legs into crawling position and kick me so hard in his sleep I feel my teeth rattle. It seems as though he will consistently roll from back to front before front to back, and he transports himself from one place to another by inch-worming on his back. That back can ARCH! We co-sleep, and I have to keep a hand on him, just in case.

Yay for me!!!!

Today was his first time in the Jolly Jumper, and it was a very serious occasion. He stood there...with lips slightly parted and wonder-full eyes...unsure of what to do, but loving it all the same. He spent a lot of time staring upward at the mechanics of it all. How does this work? Why am I standing? What happens if I move a foot? An arm? My head?

It was fun to watch, but...he looked like such a big boy. My heart broke a little, even as I laughed and clapped for him.

He also visited the public health nurse today for a weigh and once-over. He is just shy of 12 pounds and is very long and lean. In her words? "He looks GOOD." So good to know that, I tell ya. She then procured a booklet with proper feeding timetables (solids at 6 months, chunky solids at 7, finger foods at 9, etc) because I mentioned to her that we'd started Jude on a little bit of thin rice cereal from a spoon at breakfast and supper the day before his 3 month "birthday". ;)  He is a hungry boy, and even after massive amounts of formula he wasn't really full. Now he is, and is still eating the same amount of formula, peeing and pooping really well, digesting like a champ and happy as a clam. He is all smiles at cereal time...turns into a baby bird when he sees the spoon coming.

Not a common practice, I know...but, some babies will want (and tolerate) cereal, and that is just the way it is. It's not like he is eating surf and turf. :)

To celebrate all of these milestones, I made cupcakes.

Yes, they look kinda lame, and yes...that is blue cream cheese icing with too much vanilla on chocolate cupcakes made from Betty Crocker cake mix, but they are delicious, thank-you-for-asking.

Here they are hanging out with the Five Alive and the Enfamil.

There is even a ghetto one with only one sprinkle, but Jude doesn't mind.

It's not like he can eat them anyway.

Happy 3 months, babylove. I can't wait until you can actually EAT your cupcakes, (and yet, ow...eating cupcakes would make you a very big boy, wouldn't it??)

Wild Wednesday

Another Wednesday, another nightmare.

Female Angler fish

Excuse me while I pee my pants.

I mean...any fish with teeth like that, tentacles AND a built-in glowing fishing pole is absolutely diabolical in my book. However, I am oddly fascinated. So fascinated, in fact, that if I was in a horror movie, I would be the first to die.

Just look into her...ummm...glowing orb of doom!

I found the passage below here:

(spelling and grammatical errors are as I found them)

Another anomaly about these fish is that the males have no need for the fishing rod adaptation. Rather than continuously seeking prey and mates, the males have adapted to become parasites in their own accord, and are fed and cared for by the much larger female. They become, in essence, permanent mates.When a young, male angler encounters a female, he latches onto her with his sharp teeth.

Over the course of time, the male physically fuses his own body with that of the female, connecting to her skin and their bloodstreams fuse as well… He loses his eyes and all of his internal organs except for only the testes, and remains there for the rest of his life.

The female fishes have permanent mates and in point of fact most females have more than just one, They will carry as many as ten males on their bodies, however the average is about five or six..

Blech.

Scrumptious In Stripes

Ta-Da!!!!

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I'm just gonna get right into it.

I have not eaten an entire jar of green olives over the past 3 or so days. That being said, I definitely would not sneak into the fridge at 3am, fill a bowl with olives, sneak back upstairs and then consume every...single...one. Juice, too.

The Incredible Hulk (old cheesy TV show, not the movie) has not caught my attention all of a sudden. I do not spend entirely too much time puzzling over the point of the Hulk...whether he is a good guy at heart or not. And, why does his green coloring seem to rub off on his jeans more often than not. And, how it is that he rips his shirt off because it's too small, but leaves on his pants. Does his ass not grow along with the rest of him?

I did not make note to remember these lines from said show this morning because they stuck me as extremely funny:

*handing his new wife a little cup of liquid*

David Banner: Here, drink this.
New Wife (dunno her name): What is it?
David Banner: Just a little chemotherapy I whipped up this morning.

Ahahahaaaaa.

What have YOU not been up to?

All Dogs Go To Heaven...

don't they???
 

http://www.postrapturepets.com/

(pay special attention to the "Evaluation" section...LOL!!!)

http://www.a-voice.org/qa/pets.htm

http://www.jesuspets.com/Home/6/Make.hard.CA.H.from.home.while.the.world.is.in.flames.aspx


The world has gone mad, I tell you.

(I will not be attending the Rapture, so I guess that is $115 I don't have to spend...) ;)

Snugglies

Look who discovered the joys of having a blankie.

Jude Wakes Up (A Series)

Wiggle, Pop, Pop!

Jude must have been Houdini in his past life.

This kid will work at it for as long as it takes to painstakingly rid himself of a swaddle. He starts by wiggling his legs...effectively loosening the swaddle from below. Once he has his feet free, he flops like a fish out of water until he frees one arm. The other follows easily. Pop!

If I seem delirious, it's because I barely slept last night.

Why, you ask?

My son, when not swaddled, is a maniac. I am not kidding. His arms have minds of their own. It's like "The Birds"...his hands peck at his face, flutter against his forehead, claw against his nose. They spring into flight at the slightest noise and flap around wildly...waking the baby they are attached to.

I was terrified to move and wished I could swaddle myself. You know how it is. The moment you need to be still, your nose itches...or your muscles involuntarily twitch...or you have a horrible tickle in your throat. It's torture. I lay in bed wide awake and paranoid for a few hours...watching my son's arms flip and flop and flap about before I finally had enough. I moved with great gusto. I may have even flailed, so happy was I to stretch my poor, twitchy body.

And, the baby woke up all the way. ;)

I fed him, burped him, talked to him a bit, gloated over how beautiful he is, and then plopped him on my chest to sleep out the rest of the night. The turkey.

Darn co-sleeping, anyway.

Anyone else dealing with this same issue? What have you done to improve the situation all around?

When I FINALLY fell asleep, I dreamed that I was being stalked by a murderous, telekinetic girl-child named Natasha. (As my mother pointed out, Natasha is "Ah Satan" when flipped around...LOL!) She would hurl me into the air with her mind and somehow stab me repeatedly in the neck before I hit the ground. At one point, she turned into a cat and silently followed me around, springing out at me periodically. (Don't ask how I survived being thrown into the air and stabbed because I don't remember...ha!)

Then Jude wiggled on my chest just as the Natasha-cat got her claws into me, and I was awake again. And, I was glad.

That was one scary-ass cat!

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I am not so paranoid about Jude's sleeping habits (read: either waking up every 15 minutes, or sleeping for 6 hours) that I don't go to sleep until I am 100% sure he is asleep. This does not usually mean that if I put him to bed at midnight, I am full of paranoia until 3am...at which point I very carefully fold myself under the covers and remain terrified to so much as move a toe or roll over until he wakes up at around 6.

I have not become a late night TV aficionado as a result of these nocturnal goings on. I have not kinda gotten into "Poltergeist, the Legacy" (the lamest show, EVAH!) and I definitely do not get extremely excited when I see that "A Haunting" is on.

"A Haunting" did not freak me out so badly last night that I was unable to fall asleep right away because I kept feeling eyes on me.

I do not find this photo hilarious because it looks like something from the above show is stalking my son:

No, Jude does not sleep in his car seat (pictured above covered in a blanket to make it look more like a real bed) beside me on my bed.

*sigh*

:D

Wild Wednesday...

Today, it is all about the Blob Fish.

He looks kinda like a pissed off Ziggy

Yes, this is a real fish. I had my doubts, too. I took one look at that morose, globular face and thought "Oh dear God, NO! No way that thing exists outside of my nightmares!"...but, there you have it.

(Blobby? You've got something on your lip. No...other side.)

This guy is all about being lazy, but it isn't his fault. He carries on his carefree existence under extreme pressure. Bottom of the ocean pressure. He has no need for muscles or an air bladder because he is made of goo and is only very slightly less dense than water. He doesn't swim...he hovers sadly, waiting for a meal to float by.

The eggs produced by this fish are pink and tended very carefully. They sit on these eggs the way chickens do, protecting and constantly touching and cleaning them. I wonder what it is like tending 9000 to 180,000 eggs? (And, I wonder what baby blob fish look like. Eek!)

If you are ever drag-net fishing off the coasts of Tasmania or Australia, be on the lookout for these beauties.Heh.

Jude Saying "Mom" at 2 Months...

Jude and the Funky Chicken from Mailis on Vimeo.

The Momma Club

Before I had Jude, I always envied the women who'd had babies and lived to tell about it.

I mean, jeez...it seemed to be the ultimate sacrifice, really. The stretch marks, the round ligament pain, the morning sickness...and then the sagging boobs, the mis-shapen hoo-haa, the hair loss and the 3am feedings. It all added up to this:

If you have a uterus and have used it, you are a freaking hero.

Now, after my own experience with all of these things, it doesn't seem so heroic. It just seems normal. I have a son, and he cries at 3am sometimes. Occasionally, he barfs down the front of my shirt. My hoo-haa will never be the same and my boobs are pointing toward hell itself.

And, you know what? I am loving every single moment.

However, it did not occur to me until just recently that I am now a member of the momma club. I am one of THOSE women. We are the sisterhood of the stretched snapper. A sleepless army. We are woman, hear us roar. :)

I now smile knowingly to myself when someone who doesn't have any children says anything about motherhood, or has an opinion about something momma related. That was me once. I had NO idea. I wasn't going to have the epidural...I was going to cloth diaper and breastfeed. I was going to spring blithely out of my hospital bed immediately after birth, and my boobs? My boobs were gonna stay perky, dammit.

The best laid plans always get diligently buried in the litterbox.

My water broke at 5:45am on the 20th of October and Jude was born at 1:53pm on the 21st of October. I got morphine after laboring intensely for 20 hours, and an epidural after 24 hours.
I froze too much (all the up to my neck), and when Jude finally came, my body was a wreck. I did not spring out of bed. In fact, I fell on the way to the washroom.

Breastfeeding was a no-go. Jude is lactose intolerant. Cloth diapering? As soon as his bum grows into the cloth diapers I purchased, I will let you know.

I believe I already mentioned my boobs.

Aside from being a wonderful lesson in humility, and the most painful, mind-numbing thing I have ever experienced...giving birth was truly empowering. Beautiful. I would do it again a hundred million times.

It's something I didn't know I was capable of, even though the female body is designed to grow and nurture human life. No woman can really know until she has experienced it for herself.

Therein lies the momma club. A wealth of knowlege and understanding. The advice my mother received from her mother, and so on, and so on, will be passed down to my own child(ren?) when it is time. Same goes for the advice I have received from all the other mothers out there.

So, ladies? From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for your support, your words, your photos and your truths. I am a better mother because of you.

And now, since I have a hard time publishing a post without photographically bragging about my son:

Would you look at those chubby feet and legs? He loves his ankle rattles.

And, that hand. Oh my goodness, that hand.

Not Me Monday

I am (not) going to do my Not Me Monday in point form today because my brain is (not) fried. Please forgive. I am one step away from picking my teeth with my toenails.

- I did not drag the baby out into the cold simply because I needed to get out of the house.

- We did not go to Walmart.

- In fact...Walmart is NOT my favorite place to be lately.

- I do not purchase armloads of clothes my son doesn't need...(One day I will post photographs of his little clothing collection. Or, maybe not. Someone may have me committed...)

- Even though my son has 300 zillion outfits, I do NOT end up letting him wear just his diaper for most of the day because he loves to kick unencumbered.

- I did not purchase this sweater, and I don't expect my son to wear it the moment he is big enough.


- I do not pester my child with a camera so much that he is forced to make these faces at me:

- I didn't forget how old I am today and have to actually count backwards to find out whether I am 31 or 32.

- I did not find it distressing that I had to scoll through 31 years to find 1978 whilst filling out an online form earlier this evening. I most certainly did not feel like I should start using age defying moisturizer...pronto.

- I have not been sending snow again. Why would I do that? ;)

What have YOU not been up to?