Cross Your Fingers

The baby began to cry at 5:14 a.m. I maybe think he made the saddest sound I’ve ever heard. He was mostly asleep, but continuously whimpering. He’s grown three molars in the last two weeks and a fourth is evidently on its way. Rough. Finally I gave up on the belief that he was going back to sleep unassisted and entered the freezing morning air to get him a bottle of milk. Poor thing had pee all over him (that’s what a second 9 oz. of milk with a dose of Tylenol at 12 a.m. will do…). He was probably freezing. At any rate he was uncomfortable.

I changed him, then we rocked. I sang to calm him down. I tried to put him back in his crib to see if he could sleep some more. But that face. He was so sad. So we read and we rocked some more. As much as I wanted to go back to my bed, I enjoyed the moment. He cuddled up close to me (which never happens), tickled my arm and listened. That’s how our day began.

I did everything wrong in the moments of crisis last night, according to one expert or another. Honestly, the longer I’m a mother the more I tend to screw up. You’d think I’d get better. I find myself apologizing several times a day to Nixon, mainly for not knowing what I’m doing. Sorry I gave you the toy, then realized it was unsafe and took it away. Sorry I hit your head (for the 10^th time) getting out of the car. Sorry I didn’t notice you had four rocks in your mouth until you started to choke (he’s quick and has an obsession, don’t judge.). Sorry, baby. Sorry.

Somehow, though, after all the sucking I do, he’s still the happiest baby I’ve ever met. He is so cool. He’s social and loves to explore. He holds my hand and brings me a million books to read every day. He calls everything that’s round a ball and his favorite ball is a peach. He maybe eats too many of those “balls.”

I’m far from a parenting guru. Seriously, other people could probably do better, even with my own child (take that, Pinterest quotes). But Nixon gets me. And if a mom who tries super hard and prays super often counts for anything, he’s not that bad off. Cross your fingers. 

Happy Birthday, Nixon!

We invited family to a pool and pizza party to celebrate Nixon’s special day. Nixon enjoyed eating a slice of pizza, but didn’t know what to do with the oversized cupcake we gave him. I planned for the party honestly since he was born. A birthday is a day to celebrate life, and I was so excited that Nixon was healthy, well and happily turning one.

My favorite part of the day was all of the family who came – my sister and her three children came from Logan, another sister and her four children from Lehi, my parents, Tyler’s parents, Tyler’s brother’s family and sister. We had a really good time!

Stats: Nixon is 52 percentile for weight, 58^th percentile for height and 71^st percentile for head circumference. The doctor said he was socially smart. He smiled when the doctor walked in and crawled over to him to untie his shoe. Nixon’s not walking yet – I think he could, just isn’t feeling it yet. He’s doing great though. He's awesome!

Birth Story - Part 2

The pitocin was started for the induction and an epidural was placed. I was put on magnesium for the preeclampsia, which is so awful. So awful. Tyler sat on the couch and we honestly slept for most of the morning and afternoon. The doctor came to break my water at 1 p.m. At around 5 or 6 p.m. I told the nurse I was in quite a bit of pain and asked her if that was normal. We found out then that the epidural drip system hadn’t started, so I was dilated to a 7 and feeling the fullness. Not terrible, but not comfortable. The doctor called me tough. Not what I was going for.

Everything went pretty quickly after that. The magnesium makes it a little fuzzy. I labored on my left side to try to get the baby to turn. I had a goal to have him the 3^rd instead of the 4^th. I know I kept telling Tyler I think he broke my tailbone (and I think he did). At one point I told Tyler I was sure he was coming out. Tyler tried to calm me, but I was sure Tyler was going to have to catch him before any qualified person returned. When the nurse finally came back to check she couldn’t believe that I was right. He was! She said usually it takes someone three hours to do what had just happened in 30-45 minutes. It was time to push.

And I did – 45 minutes. Tyler was there, the doctor was there and two nurses were there in the corner cheering and counting. That helped. Everyone helped. Tyler said I kept apologizing to everyone. The nurses laughed at me. And then – 10:43 p.m. and Nixon was here! He was screaming! I was so scared. And relieved. He had to go to the nursery for some fluid. His face was purpleish and he had lots of hair. Everyone left me to help him. And I was not doing well.

I was worried about Nixon, and I was really, really sick. I kept throwing up and I was so dizzy. The magnesium had gotten to me. Ugh. They told me I had to move rooms. They got me into a wheelchair and then walked away. I remember yelling at them that I was passing out and then I did. And then I puked. They handed me a pair of socks for the baby. Bad timing. I thought they were jerks at that point. Now I know they were just very crowded. But still. Jerks.

In the new room I discovered I had to go back on magnesium for another day and they had to replace the catheter they had already removed. I remember a conversation with my doctor at 3 a.m. where I was so angry at him and begged him to take me off this awful medicine. They did reflex tests and nothing. I couldn’t think. I was limp and I couldn’t hold my baby. Worse, I still couldn’t feed him. We hadn’t bonded. I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me. Tyler was the only parent available to him. He did amazing, but that’s a tough spot to be. That was a very rough night for all of us.

Things got better. Everything got better. Day by day we learned. And now, we have Nixon. Quite literally the happiest baby on the block. He is so awesome. So smart. So cute. So funny. And right now he’s growling at me and hitting my hands. Looks like he’s up from his nap. Time to play!

Breathing

In. out. In. Out. I’m quite certain my very favorite sound in the world is the sound of my baby peacefully sleeping. I turn the monitor on high and just listen. And breath. When he wakes he moves constantly and everywhere. While so fun to watch, I love the calm. I love his breathing.

Nixon turns one tomorrow. He is not quite so little anymore. I look back, I see what we’ve become. He, an amazing child, me, a mother, Tyler, a father. We, a family.

The day before Nixon’s arrival, I was placed on bedrest. I had been to the hospital the night before with some pain under my ribs, and they were testing me for preeclampsia, but I wasn’t concerned. I had every intention of returning to work the following day. I had items on my “to do” list and was looking forward to walking around at the carnival below my building during lunch. I never made it back. I never sat in that chair, I never said goodbye to those people. I won’t lie and say that was easy. It was so hard. That life was gone so fast.

The evening before Nixon was born, we returned to the hospital where we learned the results of the tests. We were told I would be induced the following morning. Three weeks early. I began to cry. I was so very, very sad. I am a planner to the core, but I didn’t want to plan this. I wanted the rush, the water-breaking, speed to the hospital, wheelchair ride to the elevator rush. I also wanted a healthy baby and knew the closer to due date that better. I was scared.

We went home at 11. We finished packing our bags. We called our parents. We prayed. We slept in, took a shower, then Tyler made waffles. Our neighbor took a few pictures, then we drove slowly to the hospital singing, “Hey I just met you and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe!” – that song. With Tyler doing the actions from the YouTube video we’d just watched. I laughed. He always knows how to help.

We walked in, hand in hand. We picked up the phone and I said, “I’m here to have a baby today.” They beeped us in and we were on our way. 

Seven

I read a medical paper that said the average child has seven sicknesses before his/her first birthday. Nixon turns one next week, and his seventh is upon us. I guess he’s holding up to statistics.

So, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Nixon in the middle of the night. He’s just got a little cold, but when he lies down he starts to cough. Coughs make me so nervous. Last night I went into his room where he was sleeping peacefully, despite what I felt were terrible coughing attacks. I wanted to pick him up and hold him to make things easier, but I didn’t want to wake him. So I laid on the floor next to his crib, said a little prayer, and waited until the coughing seized. I wish I could fix it.

This baby. He is amazing. To me he seems huge. He learns so much every day. He doesn’t need my constant entertainment anymore (which makes me a little sad), instead I watch and follow as he moves throughout the house on an exploration mission day after day. He finds little things wherever he goes, then leaves a trail of Nixon. I can’t believe how much he knows. He can flush the toilet and unroll the toilet paper. He can drive his cars along the ground and put them in the garbage can. He stacks his blocks and throws his cheerios. He teases with rocks and hides and seeks.

Nixon walks around furniture, but doesn’t walk on his own yet. I think I’ve had my first lesson in not comparing my child to another’s. I keep trying to get him to walk like some of the other children his age, and after he noodle legs it and cries, I step back and remind myself: He’s exactly what he should be. He’s got his gifts, like his mega-watt smiles. He’s perfect. Yeah, he’s perfect.

Using My "Sweet" Voice

Naptimes are not the same around here lately. I’m frantically trying to work most days, either for my paid job or on my church calling. 

I am completely overwhelmed and intimidated by the calling to be the Primary President in my ward. It’s been just a few weeks now, and some things are going well but definitely not all things. Parents cause more drama then the children ever could – I had no idea! The prior president had been in Primary for eight years. Oh, and she was a Kindergarten teacher. Sheesh. Are you kidding me?!

I’m getting over my youthful fears of mean children. I’ve filled 10 callings so far, created a third Nursery and reorganized several classes. I have no idea what’s going on with Scouts or Activity Days. That will be next.

I’m not sure why they called me. I haven’t been to Primary since I was 11, and sometimes I have no idea what’s happening. I’m learning how to get children to be quiet when I speak. I’m learning how to listen to their stories. I am learning how to make big words into little words. I’m learning how sweet they are and how super smart they are. I am developing an intense desire to teach them and to protect them. But I am so unqualified.

Do I have a little child voice? Did I accidently say a bad word during Sharing Time? Am I kind enough? Do I use simple enough words? I have a lot to learn. 

New #1

Pretty much everything is new these days. I’ve experienced a whirlwind and had little time for much else.

How about we start with my new job?

My old company called and asked me to be hired as a consultant and plan the tours for their convention since I’m the one who has planned them the past two times. Most of my work is from home during naptimes, a few times a month I have to go in for a meeting. The tours will be three days in October and we’re expecting somewhere around 20,000 in those three days. It will be crazy and the logistics are insane.

The Good Things

All that thinking has been good for me. I’ll admit it is nice to think about something else once in a while besides sleep schedules, baby food, developmental activities and poop (who knew that could be on my mind so frequently?). I worked really hard for five years in my career, and it’s nice to be able to use those skills again. And to be paid!

The Negative Ones

But, it’s hard. When I leave I feel guilty – Me and Nixon are best friends, and I feel bad every time I’m gone. I’ve left him many times before without a problem, but for some reason going to work makes me feel selfish. My sister said it will make me a better mom to leave once in a while, and I think she’s right. It’s still a little hard. I also hate inconveniencing people with requests for babysitting, even though it’s not super often. All of my work clothes are too big, so every time I have to go to the office I spend 30 minutes trying to find something to wear (minor problem, I know).

So far it’s been worth it. This particular project will only be until October, then I’ll have some decisions to make.

Nine Months Down

We have reached a milestone. Nine months in, nine months out. And what a happy boy we have! 

Here's where nine months has taken us.

Smiling. He has the most amazing smile, and he uses it a lot. He enjoys having his picture taken. When we go to the store he smiles at everyone. If they don't look at them, sometimes he yells. It's awesome.

Talking. Nixon talks a lot! He loves the sound of his own voice. Sometimes he yells his words, but usually it’s just a joyful babble. He currently says “dada,” “momma,” “hi” and he's said “ball” once. He's working on that and “whoa.” 

Moving. He has perfected the art of rolling. He rolls to get anywhere he wants, bypassing our efforts to encourage him to crawl. He scoots backward, but rarely figures out how to go forward. He loves to stand up! He can stand while holding something for a long time. He plays catch! We bought him a football for Easter and currently his favorite game is to play catch with us! So fun. He also likes anything rubber he can chew on and plastic wrappers. 

Eating. Nixon prefers vegetables over fruit. Carrots are his favorite. He mostly eats purees, but can also eat small pieces. Beyond fruit and vegetables he mostly eats cereal (rice cereal or cheerios). He doesn't like pinto beans, kiwis or avocado. We will try meat and cheese soon. Nixon is overcoming the pukes! He still has puke days, but we don't wear the burp rag as a fashion accessory anymore. He wears a bib all waking hours to protect his neck from a constant stream of drool. He is no longer the biggest kid on the block! He is in the 63 percentile for weight. 

Sleeping. Nixon sleeps to anywhere between 5-7 a.m. We try to let him keep trying until at least 6. If he wakes then, he usually goes back to sleep until 8 a.m. He’s a really great napper. He takes three naps a day most days, but we’re starting to drop the third nap. He likes to sleep on his side for naps, on his back during the night.

And this is where I’m at…

Emotionally. I love being home with Nixon every day. I miss my career and sometimes I fantasize about doing something small on the side, but I have really never been more content. I love being home. Sometimes I feel a little less smart than I used to be. I don’t feel as confident in carrying on a conversation. I guess between early risings and limited adult conversation that’s bound to happen.

Physically. I am still nursing Nixon. Besides figuring things out the first week I have had next to no issues with it. I am so grateful for the ability to feed him, and I honestly love it. It's a little break every few hours with just me and him. I will miss that.

I get tired easily. I do some sort of resting every day, whether a nap or reading. I try to eat enough, but low calories might be the cause of this. 

I weigh about 10 pounds less than I did before Nixon. I would like to gain a few pounds and tone up a bit, but for the most part I'm happy with how I look.

I still battle pelvic pain daily. I know someday this will get better, but the pain takes an emotional toll. I feel like I should be able to do just about anything but I can't. I can't carry or push heavy things and running is limited. I am still working with doctors and exercises to get better.

I am not ready for more. I cry when I think about having another child, in fact. I love my little boy. Right now that’s enough.

A Pile of Rocks

Yesterday my little boy fell asleep open mouthed in my arms. Asleep in my arms! I can count with 10 fingers the times this has happened. But he missed his nap timeframe and couldn’t fall asleep unassisted. So I helped, and then I couldn’t seem to let him go. I love that memory.

The past week has been warm enough for Nixon and me to go outside for exercise in the morning. Depending on my pain threshold we either walk or run (Nixon rides contentedly either way).

One morning I came upon a pile of pretty white rocks. At this moment I was a bit harrowed up in the task of getting Nixon to sleep the night through without needing to eat. Tyler and I made a plan, we have been committed, last week was one of the worst weeks of our lives. Needless to say, I have felt like a horrible, mean mom for the tears that are shed.

So at this moment, with these thoughts and these rocks I determined to build my son a rock collection. I picked the best I could find and added them to his stroller. He is young, he doesn't care about rocks. But for me it was something I could do. I want him so badly to know that I love him, even when I don't feed him at 3 a.m.

I know this sleep thing is such a small thing. My sister gave me the great advice to keep trying but move on. Give in to the fact that I will be tired for a long time. She's right. If I step back from the situation, I know completely that I’m a bit too worried about it. He won't remember this and someday I’m sure he will sleep all night.

But for me, somehow, picking up those rocks made me feel like the kind of mom I want to be.

Anniversary Love

Three years and one child later, I came to the realization that I really, really love my husband. Even more than I thought I did.

He had a weekend planned of fun activities to celebrate our Anniversary, but I spent that weekend in varying states of attentiveness, caught up in a terrible head cold. On a Sunday afternoon he sent me to bed, and he set out to take the luckiest boy in the world on a bike ride. I slept, then awakened in fear. How long was I asleep? Are they safe? Did they get hit by a car? (Can we blame the sickness for this hypochondrium?)

Then came an overwhelming realization – I would give anything – anything – so that neither my husband nor my son would feel pain. I would give my whole world for them. And I felt so much love for them in that moment it was unreal. I got up from my bed, walked out to find them wrapped in blankets swinging on the porch swing. See why he’s the luckiest boy in the world? And I’m the luckiest girl.

We did celebrate our Anniversary, though. We rode our bikes to Winger’s, got our usual with a side of pie, then put the little guy to bed, and Ty gave me a massage. Maybe perfect?

Then, as an Anniversary encore, we took a sunny weekend at its word and broke out our new mountain bikes. I’m convinced mountain biking burns more calories than any other activity. Wow. We went on a trail that terrified me! Switch backs, bushes (we learned this trail was for running in the end), and I ended up bruised in a pile of deer droppings at one point. Even after all that I think the memory will be a fond one. 

The Lullaby Life

Tonight as we were getting Nixon ready for bed he was sad. He breaks down when he realized bath time is over and pajamas are on their way. It’s a ritual we sing through every night. But tonight, tonight was different. Tonight amidst the tears he repeated over and over, “Mama, mama, mama” for the first time. I can’t begin to describe how much I love that little boy.

Our child hit eight months old and became the coolest baby in all the land. My favorite part about him is how he smiles his giant, toothless smile for everyone he sees. He is so happy! Let’s be honest, babies aren’t fairytales and our baby can scream with the best of them. But most of the time he loves to sing and smile and play.

Mama is the newest word, but before that came “Da dad da dad da.” I was walking Nixon around the house to see pictures of the people we know, and every time he saw one of Tyler he’d say “da dad da dad da.” Tyler was beyond skeptical when I told him this, but I was convinced he knew what he was saying. Later that day we walked out to meet Tyler as he was coming home from work. We stopped to talk to our friends. I said, “Nixon, what’s your new word?” Without skipping a beat he looked at Tyler, smiled big and said, “da dad da dad da!”

Yesterday Nixon and I were out on the grass blowing bubbles and eating dirt (wait, that was just Nixon), and our neighbor walked by and said, “wow, that’s the life.” I thought about how right he is. I am right where I need to be, living a life that’s overflowing with lullabies and big huge smiles. 

I have a close friend who told me as soon as I saw my little boy I wouldn't want to return to work. She was wrong. I probably could have managed to leave him them. But now, now that we've officially grown attached, leaving is the last thing on my mind. I feel overwhelmingly grateful for every day I can just be Nixon's mom.

Thinking and Nod

They say to meditate, to spend time alone, to stay in tune with yourself. Can do. But there’s also such a thing as too much of all that jazz. Too much thinking tends to screw up pretty much everything.

Nixon and I spent a week and a half alone with our thoughts and three dogs, taking care of the canines while their owners were far away somewhere warm. I watched the clock for Tyler to come home, to save me from the quiet of a big house and no talking company. 

I am so glad to be home and to have some relief from the thinking overload. To be clear, not all of the thoughts are detrimental, really.

My baby is so much fun to watch. I love to watch him all day long. I wish he didn’t wake that one time every night, though. Should I let him cry? I want to re-decorate his room already, should I? And how?

My husband is working hard. I would move wherever he needed to move to progress. I hope I don’t have to move far from my family though. Where would I move? Will I ever work again?

Maybe I should plan out Tyler’s Birthday… 

But always there are thoughts I shouldn’t think so much about, shouldn’t worry as much about.

Am I a good mom? Second guess. Second guess. Second guess.

Am I a good wife? Second guess. Third guess. Ninth guess.

I wish I could run. I wish it didn’t hurt. Will I ever run far again? Will my body ever be well?

See what I mean? Thoughts can help, but too much thought is bound to drive one crazy. I’m home safe, narrowly escaping that insanity, and I’ve been more determined than ever before to be busy and not so ultra contemplative. At this rate my house is going to be crafted ceiling to floor and spotless by next Tuesday. Maybe I should work on a little balance between the two… 

These Days

I am currently eating a s’more. That’s right, a s’more. Graham crackers, chocolate chips, marshmallows and a microwave. Why not?

My life is so very different now, really hardly anything is the same. I see the world with different eyes and my days are filled in very different ways. Who was I before a baby? Who am I now? Those are questions. The answers are still pending.

I have days when I miss my old life. Miss who I was, the people I was with and the cool things I used to do. I miss my boss and his dumb dad jokes and constant home renovations. I miss pebble ice and planning. I miss the mall. I do.

Those days. An event I planned, explaining the plan to Jimmer.

But I wouldn’t ever go back. Because I know I’ll look back on these days – the days I’m in – with satisfaction. They are hard, but they are the best days of my life so far.

Eating s’mores at 4 p.m. on a Wednesday (it is Wednesday, isn't it?) is only half the fun of it. There’s wake up time (so happy), cuddle time (every day around 2 p.m.) and the lull in the day around 3 p.m. that has and always will exist.

Cuddle time. Don't be late.

Last week, I fashioned a box into a train and started pushing baby Nix around the house. He enjoys the “choo choo” until I can’t go on. He loves granola bar wrappers – will play with them forever. I taught him to play the drums on metal bowls. He got the hang of it and that made my day. That’s all it takes.

Playing the drums. He's good.

We took a trip to St. George to visit Tyler’s Grandparents and try out our new mountain bikes. What a fun weekend! Tyler’s parents decided to come too, which made for lots of people for Nixon to love. I felt guilt at how free it felt, having so many people to help. But I sure didn’t mind. My baby boy is one lucky dude. We biked, we ate, we played games, we swam. I couldn’t have asked for a better weekend.

First swim. So warm!

I’m not one to care about the temperature. My husband chides me for not turning on the heat or air conditioning ever in my car. I just don’t think about it. But, baby its cold outside. Yesterday my nose felt chilled mid-afternoon. That’s the only time I pay attention to the thermostat – when it affects my nose. By evening we knew there was a problem. We borrowed a heater for our sleeping baby’s room and added a few blankets to our own. We survived the night. Heater fixed today by a nice man named Ron who goes about pushing people’s cars out of the snow in front of my house. Should I have tipped him? Crisis averted, anyway.

Tonight is a beef stew and breadsticks kind of night. I’m counting down the minutes until Tyler gets home from work.

People ask me if I ever get bored. These days? Oh, boredom is very rare. 

The Year Starts Like a Lion

I had big ideas to write about goals and plans for a new year, but in my currently humbled/exhausted state of spirit I know my every day goals remain the only ones that matter: happy husband, healthy baby. No big commitments or plans to save the world this year. Thank goodness.

I’m off to a bad start on my second goal. Nixon caught a nasty little flu that has broken my heart and my back just a little bit. A few days after Christmas he began to whine – a new little trick where he chews on his tongue and hmmms. I thought maybe teeth? No such luck. His fever spiked at 103 early Saturday morning and although that was brought down quickly, his sickness has continued. We hold him in the day and often in the night. We comfort and sing and rock. We do our best, but I feel failure. Failure because he’s sick, failure because he cries, failure because I try everything I know how to do and it’s not enough to fix him.

Yesterday I called the doctor. I said I needed an appointment and when asked why, I told the nurse my son had an ear infection. News to me. I didn’t know it until I said it. I was right. He did. The doctor also shared my concerns about possible croup or bronchitis on account of a cough too big for a baby to handle. Oh, what a sad little guy he has been!

Today is Nixon’s six month birthday. He celebrated by giving me a real smile for the first time in six days and also blowing out his diaper twice before 10 a.m. A record. He is such a cute, happy boy, and I am so glad today he seems to be on the mend. Regardless of the challenges, I am so grateful to be his mom. Way, way, way more than he knows.