Things that are the best.

And now we are seven. 

Baby Soren is 1

I haven't blogged in 2 weeks because I didn't want to move forward without acknowledging baby Soren's birthday.

Why yes, I am still calling him Baby Soren.
I'm also still nursing him (hardly), still using a bucket style infant carseat (hey it still fits), and still carrying him around everywhere. He doesn't walk (thank goodness) and probably won't walk until he is 25 because he doesn't really know he has legs.  Aaron tells me I'm raising kobe beef cow.  You know...those calves that the farmers feed all day, but never give the chance to walk, so they'll be nice and fat?  My kobe beef baby and I like this arrangement just fine. Soren is such a lovey baby. He is a snuggle baby and a cuddly guy and I love it.  I know it won't last, and that breaks my heart, so I soak it up while I can, which means I hold and spoil him a lot. He deserves it.

The night before his birthday I didn't want to put him to bed. I knew it was my last night with a real baby baby in the house. I rocked him and sang to him and he humored my need for baby time by sucking his tiny thumb and nodding off in my arms.  It was perfect.

We celebrated with cake (yep, from the walmart bakery. Eat your heart out, fancy party pinterest moms), a candle, and a lot of laughs.

He grabbed his slice right off the serving spatula and shoved it into his mouth before it ever had a chance to touch the plate. These pics were after slices 2, 3, and maybe 4...

He cried every time he ran out of cake. 

So we gave him more. 

I love this baby so much, I probably don't even need to write it down, because everyone I know is sick of hearing how much I love him.  

Sweet Soren, your life is one of my greatest joys.  You are a perfect little pleasure and being your mother is truly a gift. You are a constant reminder to me of God's love and power. 

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Piece of My Heart

Last week while waiting at the pharmacy for a prescription (mastitis), the woman in line behind us oohed and ahhed over Soren's cuteness.  She asked how old he is and other typical baby stats, and after a few moments she became aware of our location and took a dramatic step back.

She asked in a terrified whisper,

"Is he....is he ill?" 

It was strange to see the difference in her body language the moment she realized that the baby she had just been touching (against my will) and admiring might be sick.

"No. He is not ILL, he's just perfect." I replied (glad that she was no longer stroking her fingers across his forehead).

She expressed her relief, "Yes, he does look perfect, and that's good. Sick babies are so sad."

Sick babies. 

I heard that phrase easily over 100 times by during the 3 days that followed Soren's birth, and hearing it a month later brought many emotions I didn't even know I had buried right back up to the surface.  My face instantly became red hot and my eyes filled with water as the suffocated tears of fear and worry tried to break the surface for air.  I forced my lips together to keep my chin from trembling.  I inhaled deeply through my nose.  I set about digging though the depths my diaper bag in search of elusive distraction.  I did everything I could possibly think of to mask my emotions and willed myself not to start crying.  

Below are segments of journal entries that I wrote during the first week after Soren was born.

I've debated whether or not to share this on our blog because reading my words is difficult and exhausting and it makes me feel afraid and tired and worried all over again.  But I've mostly avoided sharing because I want to celebrate my baby and focus on how amazing and perfect he is and the joy we are experiencing, rather than have people focus on medical procedures or treat my baby like he is "ill". 

My baby was one of the "sick babies". 

The woman at the pharmacy wasn't entirely correct.  Not all "sick babies are so sad".  The circumstances of our situation were not ideal, but my sick baby brought me more happiness than I've ever imagined was possible. And so I share my experience with excerpts of what I wrote in a journal during the days after my miracle was born. They aren't necessarily in the same order as how they were written in my journal, because I wrote about our experience out of order, so I tried to piece some of my thoughts in the way that they happened and have filled in between the journaling with some present time narrative to cover any gaps of what happened. 

Soren, this is the story of how your heart stole mine.

"A couple of hours after you were born, the hospital nurses took you to the nursery for routine initial check up with the promise that they would come get Daddy when it was time for your first bath.  He didn't want to miss it.  But an hour (or two?) passed and the nurses didn't come back.  Instead, we received a visit from the pediatrician telling us you had quit breathing spontaneously and your body had turned grey (Cyanosis). The nursery staff gave you oxygen and your color came back.  Unsure of whether this was a one-time fluke, a transitional problem, or a symptom of a larger problem, Dr. Savage recommended that we split time with the nursery staff during the night and that you only room with us when we are awake.  If we were going to sleep, you needed to go to the nursery so there would always be someone keeping an eye on you."  

"While Dr. Savage was talking to us, a nurse burst into the room and sent him back to the nursery. 

I asked, "is my baby ok?" and the nurse snapped, "your baby had another episode. I don't know." and left.  We felt stunned, confused, and terrified and Daddy and I prayed for you for a very long time." 

"Dr. Savage kept you on heart monitors under a warmer in the NICU section of the nursery and you stopped breathing 4 more times in the next 24 hours.  The nurses would rub your body and give you oxygen and then you would be fine...and then minutes to hours later, you would do it again." 

"This sucks.  I want to see you so badly right now.  I am terrified.  I am worried. I am sad and scared and lonely.  We've been together for the last 9 months and now I am bound to this bed and you are in the nursery.  I  have cried to your dad and told every nurse that has come in to check on me that I just want to go hold and feed my baby. I've asked them all to take good care of you and they promise they will." 

"I prayed for you and cried for you for 7 hours and they finally let me come see you and nurse you for the first time since right after you were born.  Daddy helped me into a wheelchair and took me down to the nursery to see you."

"You latched on right away and nursed like a little champ.  You were very hungry and my milk was already in and ready to fatten you up!"

  

"Dr. Savage hoped that the cyanosis was related to a transitional issue and suggested that all of our contact was to be skin-to-skin.  Since you needed to be attached to monitors, all of our time together was spent squished between the washing station and your little warming bed, next to a row of windows.   The nurses closed the blinds in that end of nursery and put a fabric shade behind us so we would have some privacy from the people in the lobby who were looking through the windows at all the newborns. (the place was packed!).  It was bittersweet to share our special bonding time with a room full of nurses, doctors, beeping machines, about 14 other babies, and other parents and family members of the other babies.  I wanted to be alone with you. I didn't want to share you with anyone."

"Your hand was splinted and taped with an IV. You had 3 heart monitors and a temperature monitor on your chest and abdomen. Your belly button clamp had a security chip attached to it. Your wrist and ankle had hospital identification band on them. Your heels had bandaids from PKU and bilirubin tests, and your toe and foot had an oxygen monitor attached."
"There were so many wires that we set off alarms when we rocked, or if I held you up against my chest or shoulder. It was noisy in the nicu. Machines beeped and doors slammed. Babies cried. The radio blared." I wanted to remind the nursing staff that their voices were the first and only voices that these babies were exposed to in their lives. I was irritated by aggressive conversations about politics, med school, weather, feminism, cheerleading camp, complaints about work and interrupted labor day weekend plans.  Don't whine about your job, talk to the babies and make your job better. I worried that Soren wouldn't recognize me and tried to speak only with a calm and soothing voice when I came in, to balance all of the chaos that buzzed nonstop in the nicu.  "I wanted to rip out all of the monitors and run away with you where we could snuggle and be alone with no one or nothing attached to either of us (I had an IV, bandages, and bracelets as well) and no sounds but your breathing and my voice."

"Please get better, baby! Doctors worked through the night [two 24 hour shifts back to back with only a  6 hour break for sleep in between] and all through the next day to find a cause for the cyanosis.  You poor little baby! You've already had tubes shoved down your nose and throat to check for blockages that might stop breathing.  You also had a chest x-ray, an EKG, and two echocardiograms. A brain ultrasound was scheduled, but when the tech arrived, the wasn't equipped with the right size probe to do an effective ultrasound, so it has been postponed for now [and eventually cancelled] since the results from the first echocardiogram came back."

Two congenital heart defects were discovered: (click names for photos)

1) Atrial Septal Defect (ASD)- this is a small hole in the wall between the upper chambers of your heart. This was caused by the foramen ovale staying open (patent) when you were born, leaving a small hole that allows blood mixing between the chambers.  If it does not close on it's own over time, it can be repaired with a minor surgical procedure.  Your ASD is called a Patent Foramen Ovale (PFO) and it is still possible that it will close within the first 2 years of your life.

2) Patent Ductus Arteriosus (PDA)- this is a hole between your aorta and pulmonary artery that did not close when you were born. This can allow too much blood to circulate to your lungs and heart. PDAs can close within 48 hours after birth.

The cardiologist also noticed that one of your ventricles was a bit dilated and will need to be monitored with follow up appointments in the future. We currently don't have any more knowledge about that condition, but assume that the lack of critical concern from the doctors means it is only a minor problem.

"The other "sick babies" were always crying, but the nurses said you were perfect. They truly loved taking care of you because they knew what a sweet heart you have." 

"There are several parents who come in go SEE their babies, but do not want to touch our hold them. What is wrong with you people? Look how cute she is! She is so tiny and sick. She needs you! Be a mother!  Let ME hold your baby if you won't!"

  "Parents of the sick babies never visit the nursery for very long.  For one set of parents, the nurses had to call them and insist that they come hold their baby. I was in our corner, nursing and loving on you, and savoring every minute, hoping that they wouldn't send me back to my room.  I watched from our corner as the parents came, looked at their baby for 2 minutes, and tried to leave again.  The nurses tried to explain to these parents what we already know: sick babies are less sick when their mamas are there to hold them, sing to them, encourage them, and love them.  

When the parents tried to disagree and go back to their room, the nurses set a timer and made the mama hold her baby.  She did not want to and complained about the task.  The father stayed in the nursery, but would not touch his baby.  As soon as 15 minutes were up, the baby was returned to her bed and the parents left without a word of gratitude to the nurses who were keeping their infant alive."

My heart was breaking.  I felt angry.  I was jealous of the mothers with healthy babies and mad at them for taking good health for granted. 

All of the "sick beds" in the nursery were full.  There were 7 or 8 perfectly healthy babies lined up in their little portable beds in the middle of the room, sent there to be cared for by the nurses so the parents could sleep.  The nursery was under staffed and the nurses were racing from sick baby to sick baby to keep up with their needs.  I got upset every time a nurse had to leave a sick baby to help a healthy one who needs could have been met by parents who were sleeping. 

"I wanted to have you in my room. I wanted to hold you all of the time.  I knew that you needed to be in the nicu, but I felt like I was missing out every time I had to leave.  I wanted to be the one who woke up to your cries, to comfort you, to change your first few diapers, to give you your first pacifier, to swaddle you, to rock you to sleep."  

 "Soren, I want you to know that I LOVED coming to see you in the nursery.  I begged the nurses to let me in, and once I was there, I always stayed until they made me leave.  Sometimes, I managed to stay for over 1 1/2 hours. I would feed you and have your feeding time documented then when you were finished, I would lay low in our corner and out of the way and just hold you as long as I could.  When I was sent back to my room, I would come back an hour later to feed you again."  

"Our time together in the nursery was interrupted and shared with a room full of people, but it was still very special.    The nurses handed you me and I talked to you and sang to you and I didn't care who could hear us.  I  held you and rocked you in my wheelchair.  After you ate, I let you sleep in my arms or across my chest.  I rubbed your back.  I traced your hairline with my lips and kiss the top of your head.  I nibbled on your tiny ears and held your tiny hand as I prayed for your heart to get better." 

Our home teacher came to help Daddy give you a Priesthood blessing in the morning after your first night in the nursery.  I am so grateful to live in a country where we are free to practice our religion.  I felt the presence of the Spirit with us as they placed their hands on your tiny head and anointed and blessed you. 

"Soren, I have never been so afraid in my life. I have always thought I had rock solid faith, but feeling completely out of control of the situation and not knowing if you were going to be ok really rocked my socks. I was sick with anxiety over your well being.  Aaron was calm and cool as a cucumber and I relied on his faith and sure knowledge that you would be just fine.  

I learned not to doubt Heavenly Father's plan when I realized there was absolutely nothing I could do to make you better except for pray.  Prayer is a very real thing. I learned to truly give up desire to control the situation and completely submitted my will to God's.  Pray is all I could do, so that is what I did."  

"I also received a Priesthood blessing that morning.  I felt calm and rational.  My anxiety hit a plateau and settled to a level that was manageable.  I was finally able to sleep and could even handle being alone for small lengths of time.  I know this would not have been possible if we had not called upon greater power for help."  

Later that day, the results of the second echocardiogram revealed that one of the holes had already closed.   I know that this experience was an opportunity for us to exercise our faith.

"The following night, the nice was so crowded with nicu cases that out of protection of the infants in critical condition, I wasn't allowed to be in the nursery as often as I wanted.  When it was time for you to eat, I parked myself outside one of the windows and waited for someone to come let me in." 

Aside from the monitors and machines, you didn't look like a "sick baby". 

"You are a healthy baby. At 3am, Dr. Savage decided you were healthy enough to come back to room with me in my room.  I was so happy I started bawling.  I had felt robbed of our first 24 hours together. I couldn't wait to have you in my quiet room, away from loud machines and staff and non-stop pandora radio on the Glee channel.  Once we were in our room, I watched you sleep the rest of the night."

"Kasey is staying with me in the hospital that night so Aaron could be at home with the other children and Grandma Lynda, who had arrived earlier today.  Last night she had to tell me she would stay awake and watch Soren so that I would go to sleep." 

Jocelyn came and her visit helped me relax even more.  A lot of my anxiety was gone, but I still worry every day that you will spontaneously stop breathing again. You gave us one more scare at about 5am Sunday morning when you started grunting and flaring your nostrils a lot, accompanied with erratic breathing and patchy colored skin.  Another trip to the warmer and monitors.  We got you back in our room about 6 hours later.  I wondered if this pattern would continue after we got home---if we ever got to go home! 

"We were finally discharged late [Sunday] night.  We took turns watching you sleep that night and you did great!  I pray for greater faith every morning and ask for strength to trust that my worst nightmare will not come true, that you will stay healthy, and that I will be able to take care of you forever.  I love you so much, Soren.  I love being your mother.' 

I've waited forever for you, my sweet baby.  You are a miracle in so many ways.  I am so glad that you are here. I am so lucky that you are mine.  I hold you a lot. I smell your head. I sing to you.  I rub your chubby knees and play with your toes.  I kiss your fat cheeks. I give your forehead butterfly kisses. I tell you I love you over and over again.  

You bring me joy.  I hope you are as happy as I am that you are in my arms and that you stay there for a very long time.

"Rest your head close to my heart, never to part baby of mine"

Tease

My friend, Amy, came over and took some portraits of Soren this morning.  She just sent me this delicious little teaser:

Obviously, I am dying to see the rest of the pics.

Soren Beckett 2 Weeks

Somebody is starting to look a whole lot like his older brother did at the same age...

I've said it 100 times in the past two weeks and I'll probably say it a million more times.
I am so in love with this sweet sweet little baby.
I am so happy he is mine.

Birthday Boy

At bedtime, tonight, we each gave Corbin an extra kiss goodnight.

When this guy awakes, tomorrow morning, he will be a big three year old. 
THREE! 

There's nothing we can do to stop the clock,

but I'm ok with that.  With every day that passes, he gives us another reason to be totally in love with him.  I love his little mouth, his pointy teeth and his stinky feet.  I love his heart shaped belly button. I love the way he emphasizes the R's at the end of words, like "tig-ORs", "wat-OR", "yog-ORt", "tract-OR" and "caRs".  I love that he could probably climb out of his crib and be out of his bedroom in 5 seconds flat, but has never even tried.  I love that he wants to play 24 hours a day and makes every mealtime an adventure. I love the way he loves his sisters.  I love that every night, he prays for "horsies, rubbies, blankies, kasey, rocks, dirt, yuckies, animals, sticks, gwamma" and most recently, "my balloon that went night night up to the sky". I love his kisses. I love the way he drags out his, "ooooooh-kaaaaaay" when he finally concedes to obedience.  I love that if the hose is on, he knows it, finds it, and soaks everyone in the yard with water and a mischevious smile.  I love how easily calmed he is by Reese's presence. I love that he sleeps with like 10 blankets.  I love how he lines up his toys and carries his backpack everywhere.  I love how he greets total strangers in the store with, "Hey guys! Wook at my car, guys!" and I sort of love that he kicked the old lady at the library who pinched his cheek.  I love that he is exactly how imagined Aaron was as a child.  I love his chocolate eyes.  I love his crocodile tears and sticky fingers.  I love the tiny mole on the inside of his pointer finger. I love the way he sings. I love how he kisses owies all better. I love how he asks, "it's good?" every time he offers me plastic food. I love that he talks in his sleep. I love that he runs everywhere he goes.

and I love that he's mine.
Happy Birthday, to our not-so-baby guy. We love you!

He's a Peach

Corbin named his pacifiers, "Rubbie", as soon as he could speak.
(Yep. He's 2 1/2 and has a pacifer in his bed. Whatever. He sleeps 13 hrs at night and takes a 2-3 hr nap. Plus he's my baby so naturally, he has rights to additional spoilage.)

Lately, he has developed a preference for the orange rubbie. He calls all pacifiers "rubbies", but the orange one in particular is named, "Peach", an if you try to offer him hand him a blue or green rubby, he'll say, "No thank you, I want Peach!"

It is totally adorable.
But not even half as adorable as he was wrestling a gigantic balloon in the jump house while we got the oil changed, today.

On Birthdays and the Christmas Season

"Another December Birthday?"

If only we could all be so lucky.
This girl: Turned seven last week!
When I was pregnant with Reese and would tell people I was due in December (Christmas Eve, originally), the reaction I got about the due date was almost always a negative one ("too bad it's so close to Christmas...").
Unfortunately, I believed those many comments, and developed a fear that her birthday would always be overshadowed by the holidays and she would feel less special, less important, and less appreciated.

Those people were wrong. Dead wrong. If you have a December birthday, and you aren't enjoying it, then you is missin' somethin'.
If you don't love Christmastime, you are also missing something.

The entire month is dedicated to celebrating the miraculous birth of Jesus Christ. There is hope, love, joy, gratitude, tradition, charity, and holiday magic in the air.

Reese is one of my greatest blessings. She has given me the one thing I have wanted more than anything else in my life. On the day Reese was born, I became a mother. Her life is a gift that brings me so much joy and fulfillment that no other gift could even measure against it, save the gift of my Savior.
So it is only fitting that we celebrate her during the wonderful Christmas month.

I am glad that she already recognizes what a special and sacred time of year this is. I am grateful for fun holiday traditions, for holiday cheer, for Christmas carols, for charity drives, for warm fires, for hot cocoa, for shiny presents, for inspired sacrament meeting talks and Christmas devotionals, for glowing trees, and for selfless giving.

I am grateful for fattening goodies and egg nog, for exchanged gifts, for thoughtful musical numbers, for ugly sweaters, for naughty elves, flying reindeer and magical folklore, for decorations both ridiculous and sentimental.

I'm grateful for live nativities and Handel's Messiah sing a longs, for elves and gingerbread, for lists that need to be checked twice, for funny Christmas movies, for the Almond Box, for white Christmases, for sleigh rides at the square, for pretty downtown toy store window displays, for Christmas pageants, for school parties, for Festivus, for people dressed up in robes and bath towels on Christmas Eve, for the threat of coal in stockings, and I am especially grateful that through all the chaos and shiny hubbub, that I can still recognize that there is a reverence to this wonderfully busy season.

If there is one word I would use to describe the atmosphere shared between Aaron and I in the moment when we met our baby girl for the first time, it is reverence. Overwhelming reverence radiated from the newness of our baby girl and hushed the adrenaline driven chaos of the doctor and team of nurses rushing around us. She hushed our world.

I am not trying to be blasphemous and compare myself to Mary, or anything, and perhaps only the mother of a December baby can really appreciate the experience I just described.
I honestly feel that my first December baby gifted me a very real understanding of what took place on the most important night in the history of time, when a baby came to earth and hushed the entire world and reverence fell over all mankind.

I am grateful for December Birthdays.
Happy Christmas Birthday to my Reese. On the 14th, we celebrate you, and may you always enjoy your special birthday season. You are thoughtful, eager to please, obedient, organized, compassionate, funny, brilliant, beautiful, appreciated, and oh so very special.

You are a light in our lives. You bring us closer to Christ.
You are our Christmas Star and a breath of heaven.

We love you to the moon and back.

She...

-is FIVE!
-is always a bigger fan of the secondary character in every movie. (for example, Luna from Harry Potter, Astrid from How to Train Your Dragon, Lemon Meringue and Plum Pudding from Strawberry Shortcake, Barbie's friend in every Barbie movie, Ruthie from Kit Kittridge, etc.)
-tells everyone that they are "on the naughty list."
-is ambidextrous.
-always plays with this dollhouse turned on it's side.
-shared all of her birthday presents with her sissy
-still doesn't eat anything...unless it's the things that she does eat...and she eats a lot of those 4 things.
-loves hand me downs from her sister more than anything new that I buy her, and on her birthday, downright refused to wear anything that said size 4 on it. (Since that is her size, we finally convinced her it is ok...but it took a few days and some coaxing.)
-drops perfectly timed Lucy quotes from Charlie Brown/Peanuts movies
-is so ticklish you only have to act like you are going to tickle her and she will laugh uncontrollably before you even touch her.
-quit sucking her thumb
-never matches. ever.
-has been singing the Bingo song, "J-E-S-U-S and Jesus was his name-o" all afternoon.
-woke me up with a giggly kiss right on the lips this morning, and asked, "Is it Thursday?"
-is scrappy and compassionate at the same time.
-always has stinky ears and breath.
-adores her long hair and has named every hairstyle after one of her friends or a favorite movie character.
-laughs until you are laughing, too.
-speaks with a delicious lithp.
-dances to the beat of her own drum.
-is our Shuggie Bear, our Quincy Bee, our Woogie, our Little Q. She's our very own Luna Lovegood.
-is a very special treasure.

And then there was one

Chuggie misses his sisters when they are at school.
Isn't that a sad picture? He went outside to pout, bless his lonely heart.

Don't worry, Corbin, you'll be starting preschool next week and will have a house full of friends to play and learn with.

Knot.

as in, A knot in my gut.

I took Quincy to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist today.

It was time. Poor kid. I didn't know what else to do for her.

Dr. ENT came highly recommended, and is supposed to be "the best".

Here is what I learned, today:

1) It costs $125 for a doctor to look into your daughter's mouth and ears, and tell you

"Well they're not infected now, are they?" (well DUH, no! She's on the 8th day of antibiotics!)

"She's already four, so tubes could possibly help her, but we'll want to take her adnoids out also, because we have a better chance of something working if we do both procedures. But she might just be one of those kids that's going to have ear problems for the rest of her life, regardless. It's really up to you. It will either help or it won't."

2) Really? All you can give me to decide whether or not to put her under and have surgery is a maybe? I maybe really don't feel good about that.

3) Pretty much.

4) Surgery is absolutely optional at this point, and definitely not necessary. Quincy is not the ideal perfect candidate for tubes, or for adnoids. She's in the grey area that might benefit from having it done, or it might do nothing at all, or she might have even more problems from the surgery.

I really appreciate the doctor's total honesty and full disclosure of risks involved. I was really surprised at how indifferent he seemed. I'd expected a pushy "this child needs tubes in her ears stat". Instead, he suggested that we just wait and think about it, because she'll either be like Reese, and slowly get less ear infections a year until it's few enough to not be a big deal, or she'll just be "one of those kids with ear problems."

Obviously, I don't want the latter for her.

He explained both procedures to me (short hand 1 minute speed version), and the associated risks with each, first the freakishly rare, life threatening complications (rare and unlikely, but wow. Holy crap.), and then explained the typical post-op complications that are more likely to actually happen (expected to feel better about those, because they are normal complications that are easily fixed, but nope. I felt much much worse.)

I went into the appointment, apprehensive, but with my calendar, prepared to schedule surgery.

I left with information on the procedures, and no surgery scheduled.

5) Ick. It isn't right.

Not just because it's surgery.
Not just because there are rare, unlikely risks. (because what procedure doesn't have risks?)

Not because it will cost $2K up front.

I really thought I'd feel better about this after a consultation with the doctor.

I feel much much worse.

I asked him, up front, to just tell me what to do. Professional opinion.

Obviously, he can't do that, but it was worth a shot.

He said it really doesn't matter if we do the tubes, or tubes and adnoids, because it only "might work". So, it's up to us, and how fed up with ear infections we are (very). If we're fed up enough, then it's worth a shot.

huh.

I also learned this:

6) Since she sucks her thumb, it's most likely her adnoids that are getting infected (from bacteria brought in on her hands (gross) first, and the swelling is leading to drain blockage that leads to infection. If we can get her to stop sucking her thumb, he predicts the ear infections will drop drastically.

7) I hate this.

I hate having to make difficult decisions that I don't have the right answer right away to.

I hate not having the right answer, right away.

I hate not being right (see a trend?)

I hate that my kid has broken ears.

I hate that she gets every illness that she is exposed to.

I hate that she sat there, tiny and timid, perfectly healthy, perfectly perfect, in that great big exam chair, totally terrified today when the doc came in...while we talked about everything that is wrong with her. Because she is perfect. (my kid. I can say that.)

I hate that I had to pretend like I was not nervous or worried or terrified, myself.

I hate the word hate.

But I hate all of this even more, so I'm using it anyway.

8) Being a parent is hard.

Looks like Operation Hideaway Thumb is under way, after all. I mean, I have to try that, first, don't I?

Of course, she still gets many of her infections as a result from natural poor drainage when she gets any kind of cold or virus. So operation "stay away from sick kids" is also under way.

But that's another blog post for another day.

Baby Mine

6:01pm May 21, 2009

1 Day

1 Month

2 Months

3 Months

4 Months

5 Months

6 Months

7 Months

8 Months

9 Months

10 Months

11 Months

12 Months

Happy Birthday, Corbin!

We love you to the moon and back.

"Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun"

This morning:
Quincy: "Mom! Last night in my bed, I dreamed that when Corbin is bigger, you're going to have TWO babies! TWO BABIES at the same time! Mom, do want that? I want two babies. I want girl babies, but your babies are going. to. be. like. Corbin babies!"

Before anyone asks,
NO, I am NOT pregnant.
I am not even talking about getting pregnant.
(though that second part is really none of ya'lls bidness, IMO).

But TWO babies?
Two of these?
Well, who wouldn't want two?
Sounds like Quincy had a pretty great dream.

Spring is Here

"but I don't wanna be a cowboy!"

because the last post was kind of depressing.
and also because they are freaking cute.

Baby Lovin'

Look who made himself nice and comfortable zipped up in my hoodie while we worked on the fence Saturday afternoon.

How 'bout them apples?

WHY oh WHY did I not make baby food for Reese and Quincy when they were babies?
So other than green beans, I had pretty much ran out of the baby food I made last round (remember that post?), and I got lazy, so I just bought a bunch of food this time.
With coupons, I still spent $28 and it was gone in a week!
My baby is such a hoss!

-I have 2 quart sized bags worth of peas and carrots and after my coupon it cost me just over $1 for the bag of frozen veggies.

-1 butternut squash made another quart size bag full.

-I used up the last 6 slices of a $2 package Farmland ham (that I purchased for a different recipe) and pureed it with 1/3 of a jar of homemade unsweetened applesauce for another bag of food.

-2 sweet potatoes and the last cup of baby carrots were also blended together and filled a quart bag

The last 1/2 cup of the beans, rice, corn, or turkey breast from dinners, that ordinarily gets thrown out because it's not quite enough to save in a tupperware is now getting pureed, frozen, and fed to the baby.

I love that we aren't wasting so much food.
I love that Corbin gets variety in his diet.
I love that we are not spending $100 a month on store bought food. I was reading the labels and a ton of them have apples as the main ingredient. Everything is "peaches and apples, bananas and apples, strawberries and apples, blueberries and apples, pears and apples, chicken and apples, ham and apples". WHY?

Apples are cheap. How much of the store bought stuff is actually chicken? Even with a coupon, the markup on baby food is ridiculous.

Also, one of my goals for 2010 is to recycle. I'm not going to go all crazy and recycle used kleenex or anything, but I find myself throwing away a LOT of stuff that could be reused in one way or another. Corbin eats the equivalent of 6 jars of baby food a day. That is a lot of wasted glass.

I also started composting kitchen scraps. (more on that later)

So, of course I purchase some jars. It is convenient for when we're on the go, and I like having a small supply in the cabinet, should we lose power or something.
But for the most part, homemade food has become the majority in our house. I can't believe I didn't even attempt this with my other babies.

Next week, I going to make him spinach.

or should it be "spinach and apples"?