Walking All Over Me

"Your kids are walking all over you!" Yes, it's something I've heard before and I'm sure I'll hear it again. Why? Because my kids are literally leaving their footprints all over me!

We did it again. Tattoo number two. Yesterday, my husband and I got a permanent footprint of baby girl on us, his on the upper arm and mine on the inside ankle. We got matching tattoos nearly 6 years ago for my first mother's day when the little boy was 4 months old (you can read that funny story by clicking here), so it was only fitting that we inked ourselves again since baby girl just turned 4 months.

The tattoos are our children's actual foot print. My husband has the full size on his arm and I have a half size. Their names are tattooed beneath the foot print but since this is an anonymous blog, I have blurred out the names.

Both of my babies footprints at 4 months old. Forever with me.

I've never been more proud to have these tattoos. I love my children and am so glad I have them not only in my heart, but on my skin as well. Let them walk all over me!!!!!

The N Word

Today's post has been brought to you by the letter N and the number 4!

N is for Nipple. ;) I swear I have never talked so much about breasts & nipples in my life, than in these last 4 months. However, this time is cause for CELEBRATION! *Finally* my nipple has closed over and healed completely. Yes, it took 4 MONTHS for less than a centimeter of skin to close over. That is just how damaged my nipple really was. And don't even get me started on the pain. No, the word 'pain' doesn't even do it justice. It was beyond that and more.......just to give a clear picture. Speaking of pictures, yes I did take some. Only because I wanted to see the healing progression in visual comparisons so that I didn't become all consumed with discouragement. I'm glad I did because it helped immensely when I could see progress from month to month. No, I will not be posting the photos so don't worry. ;)

Of the last 4 months, one of those months I had to stop breastfeeding on that side and solely pump until it no longer was painful. If I hadn't, I'm am certain the healing time would have prolonged to over 6 months. I cringe just thinking of the agony. Anyway, all is well now and the breastfeeding experience is fabulous!!! I am so grateful that I persevered to get to this place of enjoyment and fulfillment. Moving right along......

N is for Naps. Or should I say lack thereof. I have a little girl who boycotts naps and sleeping at all, really. In the last few weeks my daughter has turned into a baby who has decided she is missing out on something BIG, so she must oh must oh must stay awake to party. But the problem is that her parties consist mostly of crying. Gives a whole new meaning to, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to." This little baby loves to nap about 30 min instead of the usual 2 hours that babies typically take, leaving a very overtired child to scream for 5 1/2 hours straight and NOTHING can console her. Rocking, putting her in the stroller or car, breastfeeding. I seriously mean NOTHING. I held her as she cried (ok, bawled & screamed) her way into sleep land.

I am a total believer in the Baby Whisperer and I follow the ideas keeping in mind that my baby is an individual. She loses her mind when not on a routine because she is so fragile with sleep. Her temperament is called "touchy" and this is the description of touchy babies from the Baby Whisperer book.

The Touchy baby
For an ultra sensitive baby like Michael, the world is an endless array of sensory challenges. He flinches at the sound of a motorcycle revving outside his window, the TV blaring, a dog barking in the house next door. He blinks or turns his head away from bright light. He sometimes cries for no apparent reason, even at his mother. At those moments, he’s shouting (in his baby language), “I’ve had enough – I need some peace and quiet”. He often gets fussy after a number of people have held him, or after outings. He’ll play on his own for a few minutes, but he needs the reassurance that someone he knows well – Mum, Dad, a nanny – is close by. Because this type of baby likes to suck a lot, Mum may misread his cues and think he’s hungry when he’d do just was well on a dummy. He also nurses erratically, sometimes acting as though he’s forgotten how. At nap time and at night time, Michael often has difficulty falling asleep. Touchy babies like him easily get off schedule, because their system is so fragile. An extra-long nap, a skipped meal, and unexpected visitor, a trip, a change in formula – any of these can throw Michael for a loop.....When you have a Touchy baby, the quicker you learn his cues and his cries, the simpler life is. These babies love structure and predictability – no hidden surprises, thank you.

This is my daughter to a tee. I find it really difficult when people don't understand that my daughter is uber sensitive. Yes, if a baby is overtired you'd think they'd sleep.....but guess what? She doesn't. The more overtired she gets the less she sleeps. She won't sleep for longer than a couple minutes when we're out. And to top it off, she'll wake up at night....like *SEVEN* times if she didn't nap well. Sigh.

Which brings me to my next point......

N is for Noise Maker. I have done every single thing in my power to help this little lady to sleep. That includes blacking out her window, not going out during nap times, giving her the soother (pacifier) and providing White Noise. Baby girl will wake up if the phone rings, if her door is opened to peek in on her, or if she hears the little boy running about. The only way I can prevent her from hearing anything is by blasting a fan in her darkened room to drown out all the noise. It works like a dream. So instead of a cold wind blowing fan, I've now purchased a White Noise maker that I am eagerly awaiting its arrival in the mail. Until then, the blowing fan it is.

N is for Neurotic Need to suck. Baby girl is a touchy baby therefore must.suck.on.everything. With her desire to suck and inability to restfully sleep, it is only natural that she would *love* the pacifier. She is purely and simply addicted to it. But the problem with her neurotic addiction is that when she sleeps and it falls out she is instantly awake and crying. I cannot bear to take the pacifier away or wean her from it because she would NEVER EVER sleep, so I came up with a contraption that helps keep the soother in her mouth. It's a string that wraps around the soother and then around her ears. But it is faulty because when she moves her head from side to side her ears fold and the string comes off. However, if she is dead tired and doesn't move, my clever invention works beautifully. Oh the things a mother will do.N is for New month. My baby turns 4 months old tomorrow. She weighs in at a whopping 17 lbs 7 oz and is wearing 9-12 month clothes. She is huge and I love it!!!

N is for Never remembering anything. I seriously feel like I am losing my mind. Somehow I thought that my pregnancy induced memory loss would reverse once I had baby but I now see THAT WON'T EVER HAPPEN. My brain is gone for good. I can't remember appointments unless they are written on my calendar. I recently purchased something from a store, came home and put it away.....but today I can't remember where I put it. It's driving me crazy not to know where it is!

I'm sure I have a thousand other N things I could write about, but I can't remember them. Perhaps it's the sleep deprivation because my baby won't sleep. Days blur together and I never know what day of the week it is. Weeks turn into months before my very eyes. Unbelievable. From nipples to naps to new months. Cheers.

Being Baby

Could you imagine what it would be like if you lived your life as an adult......with the thought process & mannerisms of a baby? You would greet your friend at the door, hug them and begin sucking on their shoulder. Either that or as their arms wrapped around you in an embrace you'd puke all down the back of their shirt and they'd delicately wipe themselves off saying, "Oh, it's ok. It's just a little bit." I think them handing you a dry-cleaning bill would be quite appropriate.

Or you go to the jewelers and pick up the most beautifully crafted pearl necklace and gracefully put it around your swan like neck.....then you abruptly begin frantically yanking on it as if it were THE FUNNEST THING IN THE WORLD TO DO and finally breaking it much to the jeweler's horror. Then you'd then pick up each of the pearls from the ground and abruptly shove every.single.one. into your mouth as fast as you can. The '3 second rule' does not apply here.

It's New Year's eve and your boyfriend of many many years gets down on one knee, opens a tiny velvet blue box and asks you to honor him by being his wife. You cry and yelp and do all the crazy jigs that a newly-proposed-to woman does. He slips the ring on your finger and you put your hand up to see how it sparkles in the light. Then, in an instant just as your hand goes out in front of you to look at the beautiful diamond, it magnetically gets pulled into you. Your hand gets closer and closer to your face. Why you can't pull it away, you just don't understand. Finally, your hand enters your mouth and you feel frantic that you can only fit 4 of the 5 fingers in. WHY OH WHY CAN'T THE OTHER FINGER GO IN TOO????? After much effort of pulling your hand out of your mouth it eventually goes back in with all 5 fingers included. You begin sucking ravenously on your hand while drool drips down your arm. You are happy. You got your whole.entire.fist in. Sheer awesomeness.

At night you begin to cry as you lay in bed. Your husband comes to gently console you and you begin to shriek at him, SWADDLE ME!!!! SWADDLE ME!!! So he looks at you curiously, never asking a question and tightly wraps you in the top sheet. You lay there in bed looking like a dead mummy except for the fact that you smile contentedly. Then suddenly you think it's a great idea to kick your arms and legs back and forth, back and forth while grunting loudly. Why that seems fun, you just don't know. But it IS fantastic. Finally after what seems like an eternity, you break free with hands & feet all strewn about, but now you think you've made a terrible mistake. So terrible in fact you think you might die. Like right then. So you cry. And not just a little cry. You scream like you are on fire. Until your husband comes to swaddle you again........and you do it over and over and over again. That is your Friday date night.

You wake up in the morning and decide you don't want to wear clothes anymore. Ever. So you strip to your birthday suit and walk around the house with coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other. Much to your alarm, it is reported to you that the neighbors now believe you are part of a nudist colony........but clearly they don't understand how liberating it is to not wear clothes. Those stuffed up fuddy duddies. You streak around the house running as fast as you can. Well, it's more like a waddle but who cares! When your mother hears of this horrible thing that has befallen her child she swiftly comes over to intervene. She scolds you on the improperness of what you are doing and tells you how disappointed she is in your behavior. She hands you a robe to cover yourself with but instead you begin to laugh and shriek with glee as you run circles around her. She runs after you but you are faster. You will not conform. Being naked is the best thing in the world, she just doesn't know it yet.

I think that being a baby is likely the most interesting experience the human race can have. We were all there, too bad we can't remember it. For some reason loudly passing gas is socially acceptable and explosively pooping so much it goes right up the back of your shirt is cutely laughed at. Drool is adorable and being overweight is even more adorable. Sucking on random objects (even if they've been on the ground) is totally kosher and even expected. So strange.

Dang......being an adult sure is boring.

List

Ok, I admit it. I like lists. And not just a little bit. I like lists A LOT. Lists provide a goal, something to achieve, to strive for. I am a very goal oriented, driven person and a huge reward is accomplishing my goals and *crossing off* those things on my list. Sigh. Such contentment.

I am a linear thinker. I like symmetry, order and clean lines. I like things to make sense and when they are abstract I get flustered. This is why having faith is such a hard thing for me. It doesn't always make sense but I choose to believe anyhow....and that is difficult. Things such as lists and organization help me feel like I am on a life of forward progression....and that makes me happy. And so when someone asked me if I had a "bucket list," even I was shocked that I had never formally written one down.

A Bucket List can be as long or as short as you want, filled with things you desire to do before you die, or "kick the bucket." I have had an unspoken list in my head with very general things like: get a degree, get married, become a mother, move to a new house, travel the world. But once I could cross those things off my list I felt the need to compile a longer, more detailed list. So this past month of November I started my Bucket List with an attitude of, "I'm sure I don't have THAT many things to write down since I've accomplished so much already!" Boy was I wrong. 90 things later.......and I'm STILL updating my list with more things.

The thing about a Bucket List is that there are no rules. It can be as serious or as silly as you want, as long or as short as you want, as detailed or broad as you want. I probably have some of the same items on my bucket list as you do on yours. So we can compare and contrast. I'll share some of my favorites with you.

1. Build a house

2. Visit the Sistine Chapel

3. Have a third child

4. Go to the top of the Eiffel Tower

5. Get my master's degree

6. Teach nursing at a university level

7. Take up painting again

8. Take a cooking class

9. Learn a new language

10. Public speak to a group of women

11. See a live volcano

12. Do something that scares me

13. Write a book

14. Die with my original teeth in....no dentures!

15. Take the kids to Disney World

16. Eat authentic Indian food in India

17. Volunteer in a soup kitchen

18. Learn how to properly wine taste

19. Become a grandmother

20. Take an active role in my church

21. Visit an orphanage in another country

22. Eat fish & chips in England

23. Shave my head for a cancer cause

24. Learn a martial art

25. Learn more about the Holocaust and visit a concentration camp

26. Learn sign language

27. Have Christmas Day dinner at my house

28. Buy a sewing machine and learn to sew better

29. Walk the Great Wall of China

30. Ride a gondola in Venice.

Those are just some of the items on my list. Do you have a bucket list? Please share a few of your favorites in the comment section!!!

Post-Pregnancy 101

After you have a baby, the post-pregnancy body is one that seems to morph before your very eyes. A protruding, rock hard belly during pregnancy......fast forward to after baby is born and see sagging, extra tummy skin and huge leaking boobs. Talk about wow factor. And for the record, no I don't believe it ever goes back to normal.

So I am now in the acceptance phase of my new body image journey. I would do it all over again to have baby girl in my life. She is sooooooo worth the flabby body and I wouldn't change that for a second. That being said, since I am aware my body will never be all *chiseled* again I have learned a few tricks to help disguise what goes on beneath my clothes.

Case in point. When you are 3 months post-partum and you are not 19 years old nor a size zero, it is time to throw out the old low rise jeans and embrace the "mommy jeans." I'm sorry girls, but the tummy skin just don't go back to where it came from. So instead of sporting a muffin top of tummy rollage, may I strongly recommend a good pair of midrise cut jeans.
Please note the following photograph and how the low rise jeans cut in at just the wrong place producing an abundance of tummy rolls overflowing the top. Also note the wet spot on the shirt where your son spilled eggnog on you. Yes, you are a mom and don't forget it.

Now instead, pour yourself into a sleek pair of midrise jeans and VOILA, rolls be gone! You've just lost 10 pounds! Congratulations.

Now let's move onto the other glamorous feature of the post-pregnancy body: huge milking boobs. People on my facebook often comment about how I make many of my statuses about my boobs. The reason for that is because I am amazed by them! I actually never have boobs unless I'm breastfeeding or pregnant......so let me tell ya, I intend to fully enjoy filling out a shirt for the, uh, second time ever in my life.

I digress. Anyway, why is it that the one time women are certain to have large 'girls', they are expected to wear hideous nursing bras that do NOTHING to improve their shape? The bras are boring and homely. There is no excitement, no intrigue. Yawn.

So I decided to dress my girls up. Since I'll likely only have boobs until I stop breastfeeding, I figured it was worth it to purchase a few sexy bits. That's right. *SEXY* nursing bras. Imagine that. There is such a thing.

Every lingerie article in the above photograph is a nursing bra......and I bet you can't even tell. The brand is HOTmilk (gotta love the name) and you can click on the link to find a supplier nearest you. They have sizes going all the way to a G cup. I'm telling you, not only is this lingerie super sexy but it's COMFORTABLE and supportive for the ever fluctuating 'ladies.'

Between my new jeans and bras I feel like a new woman. (Thank you, Heidi for your wonderful suggestions. Credit is certainly due here). I wish I had known 5 years ago all that I know today. I would have saved the world from several atrocities. Mom by day, superhero by night. Just call me Brazier Woman and I'll sign autographs for a nominal fee. :)

Breathe-R!ghts.

"Look!" the little boy screamed with excitement as he pointed at the television commercial, "There are new Breathe-R!ghts for kids!" I laughed at the fact that my son was clearly enthralled with the idea, just as he had been when he saw the commercials for Slap Ch*p, Bump-!t's and Sham W*w. "Do you have flat hair?" he once asked me. "Uh, I don't think so," I replied rather confused with the question. "If you do have flat hair mom, you need to get a Bump-!it."

Well thanks.

As my son was pumped about the new commercial showing colorful nasal strips for kids, I laughed at him because he is often the main thing that humors me any given day. Now his new thing was Breathe-R!ghts and I knew I'd never hear the end of how much we needed to buy them.

But instead, the little boy disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a couple of items to create a special something. "Here mom," he said as he used the scissors, "This one's for you." I smiled at his creativity. I knew where we were going with this one.........so I took a before photo.

And here we are with our reinvented version of the Breathe-R!ght. Nothing a little electrical tape can't fix! Snoring woes BE GONE!

Joanna

The thing I love about Blogland is that it opens your mind, your world and your heart to other people who experience things you might not get as much as a glimmer of. Some people travel and you see the world through their stories and colorful, expressive photographs. Other people write about their daily experiences that include thoughtful, wise words that make you ponder your purpose in life. And then there are those who blog about heart wrenching circumstances that leave you breathless & weeping as you read their transparent words. This is what I love about blogging. Your eyes are opened to a portal that sees directly into someone else's heart.....often, someone you may not know.

Yesterday, I came across the blog of Joanna and was profoundly impacted by her words. I was shaken to the core and moved beyond words with every post. You see, just last month Joanna's husband of 9 years tragically died. She is a stay at home mom of 4 kids and is now widowed without her partner to walk beside & grow old with. Joanna & I are the same age and have been married the same amount of time..........and reading her words shook me to reality like none other.

After devouring her blog for the months of October & November I became extremely emotional as I told my husband, my living & breathing husband, about this courageous woman. The burden she now carries is something I cannot even comprehend. Through her powerful, candid words I am staring grief straight in the eyes and I can't help but be moved, astonished and ache for her. I read THIS POST where she wrote a letter to her husband on the one month anniversary of his death. I challenge you to read it and not feel her heart dripping with blood.

I couldn't imagine how hard it must be to sleep with your husband's t-shirt under your pillow wishing his head were resting atop the pillow instead. Or wake up knowing you must face the day because you are The Mom and life seems to continue on in spite of your grief. How would I do it? How would I.....as someone who is the same age as this woman & married the same amount of years......manage life without the man I love? I can't imagine.

Hug your children & your spouse today. And when you do, breathe a prayer for Joanna as she & her family struggle to find new meaning.