(by Whitney Wilson Coy, Westside Editor - July 21, 2010)
Pregnancy brain strikes again
(July 21, 2010)
Have you ever heard of pregnancy brain?
It’s a pregnancy induced fog that begins to take over your brain the day you see the positive pregnancy test and intensifies as you near your due date.
It’s a real thing - I swear.
I had a major case of it when I was pregnant with Katie, and hoped to avoid it this time around. Guess again.
Pregnancy brain has once again bullied its way into my life (or head), and coupled with the constant "momnesia" that results from more than a year of sleep deprivation, my brain is basically mush.
The condition leaves expectant moms at the mercy of those around them, hoping some kind stranger will notice their blank expression and turn them in the right direction.
Pregnancy brain is the reason I paid for my groceries and then tried to walk out of the store without my shopping cart. It’s also the reason I left my iPhone along Broad Street while photographing a Fourth of July parade (by the way, thanks to the person who turned it in!).
Yesterday, I stopped for gas on my way to work, and didn’t realize until I pulled into the office 20 minutes later that my purse was lacking a wallet.
Where had I seen it last? Oh yeah, on top of my car at the gas station. Crap. Time to panic.
I rushed in to work and called the gas station, hoping someone had turned it in. No such luck.
I scrawled a note to my boss and ran out the door, thinking, if I was quick enough, I might find my wallet along the side of the road before someone else did.
I made the drive from one side of Columbus to the other in record time. Not smart when you don’t have your driver’s license on you - I know. Pregnancy brain, remember?
I spent my morning walking up and down a busy four-lane road and learning why you should never drive on the berm when entering a freeway (someone might be walking there!).
Despite the best efforts of myself and a sympathetic police officer who helped me search, no wallet was to be found. I admitted defeat and made my way to the bank to begin the long process of cancelling every account in my name.
When I got there, to my surprise, I found out my debit card was already cancelled.
A Good Samaritan found my wallet and called my bank. They also left their name and number.
Upon hearing this, my eyes instantly welled up with tears. Here I was, assuming the worst (that within the two hours I been separated from my wallet, someone had already stolen my identity and cleaned me out), when that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.
I called my hero for the day, Rick, and found out he drives a street sweeper and had spotted my wallet. Later that day, he went out of his way to come to my office and reunite me with my lost possessions.
I repaid him with a restaurant gift card that had been in the wallet, which I had to beg him to take. He actually called me later to thank me again for the gift card, as if I was the one who had done something extraordinary for him.
All in all, the day was crazy, but ended well. I came home with everything intact, including my renewed faith in mankind.
Thanks, Rick, for saving my day. I hope your kindness comes back to you, full circle.
I can only hope another good-hearted person will be around the next time my hormone-addled brain gives out on me.
“Get down!”
(July 1, 2010)
I thought I had awhile to go before I had to deal with a child that could talk back.
Maybe not.
Katie is still climbing everything in sight, although now she tends to climb down more often than she jumps down, which is a big improvement.
Now, however, she has added her own special touch to the trick.
Whenever she reaches the top of whatever object she is climbing, she plants her feet, stands up straight, points her finger at me and says, “Get down!”
It’s very difficult to keep a straight face when she does this.
I’m not sure if she’s mocking me, or if she just knows what I’m going to say next.
At least she listens, right?
New kid, new car
(June 30, 2010)
Jason has driven the same black, two-seater truck since long before we started dating.
He loves that truck like an old friend, and I love it, too, mostly because it’s always been a part of the Jason I know. The front seat of his truck still looks, feels and smells the same way as it did the night of our first date. There is a certain comfort in that.
When he found out we are expecting again, one of his first thoughts was that his days with his little black truck were numbered.
Our family of three outgrew the truck the day Katie was born, but we made it work. The two seats are more than enough for Jason to pick Katie up at the babysitter’s house. If we need to go somewhere together, we just take my car.
That’s not going to fly when the newest one arrives. He fired up the computer and started looking at SUVs the day he heard the news.
Recently, we had a free weekend and decided to see what was out there. We packed up Katie and filled a cooler, and spent the entire day driving from one end of the county to another, stopping at nearly every lot we passed.
It didn’t take me long to realize shopping for a car is much different when you have children.
Gone are the days of shopping for the sleekest, fastest, sharpest looking two-door on the lot. Instead, we went straight to the family-friendly, super-sized vehicle section.
The term “family vehicle” always brings to mind a vision of soccer moms in mini-vans, which, frankly, scares me to death. Luckily, my husband shares the same mini-van aversion as I do, so we had no problem bypassing that section of each car dealership.
We are no longer concerned with extras like sun roofs and sound systems.
Instead, we look for things like DVD players, LATCH car seat anchors, back seat cup holders and child safety locks.
Also gone are the days of giving the inside of a car a quick glance before taking it on a test drive. This time, we lugged a stroller AND a car seat around the car lot, making sure there is adequate space in anything we consider. We had to put our stroller in every truck, and fasten our car seat into every back seat - not a quick process.
Simply stated, things were a little more difficult this time around. There’s much more to consider.
It all worked out in the end, however.
Jason got a shiny new SUV that I can't wait to borrow for shopping trips and that will more than accommodate our expanding family.
And his little black truck was granted a reprieve when Jason decided he couldn't part with it after all. It’s safe and sound, parked in our garage, where it will probably live to a ripe old age.
Little daredevil
(June 28, 2010)
Katie learned to climb yesterday.
She can now climb on to the top of the ottoman, couch, chair and anything else that I’d rather she not.
At first, I was excited about this new skill.
“Yay! Look at what a big girl you are!” I said.
Then I realized the reason she wants to climb up high, is to dive, face first, to the floor.
“Sigh.”
I started by scolding her. Then, when the only the only reaction I got from the scolding was a laugh and a second attempt at a nose dive into a pile of jumbo Legos, I resorted to begging.
“Katie, please, please, PLEASE don’t jump off the couch. It scares mommy.”
More laughs from Miss Katie. Apparently, there’s something about my fear that she finds hysterical.
I’m not sure of the reason behind these suicide missions, but she’s far too brave for her own good.
This new development means that I now have to put her into her playpen every single time I leave the room.
This solution, however, is only temporary. This morning I found her halfway up the side of the playpen.
She’s going to give me a heart attack.
As I think about it today, I keep getting flashbacks of me, 25 years ago. Some of my favorite activities at that time included climbing to the tops of doorways and leaping from the windows of our fairly high play house.
I guess this is what they mean about paybacks. Sorry, Mom!
And baby makes...four!
(June 22, 2010)
I never dreamed I’d be a mommy of two under two.
But then again, life is full of surprises!
My husband, Jason, and I found out a couple of months ago that we are expecting another baby in early January.
We have always planned on adding to our family, although our original plans called for waiting another year or two before venturing down that road again.
You know what they say about the best laid plans, right?
I’ll never forget the day I found out. It was Sunday and my husband had spent the entire weekend slaving away outside, clearing away weeds and readying the yard for spring. I should have been helping, but instead, had spent the entire weekend laying around with Katie. I was tired and slightly nauseous. I hadn’t felt like that since...crap.
Realization hit, hard, and I made a beeline for the bathroom, searching under the counter for a leftover pregnancy test. I had bought about 400 of those tests during the nearly two years we had tried for Katie, so I knew there had to be one hiding in a cupboard somewhere.
I found one, slightly expired, and used it. The result, in the form of a practically flashing, bright pink line, was immediately revealed.
It’s funny how calm I was, almost giddy. I simply walked out back and handed the stick to Jason.
“Is that positive?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said, with a bit of a crazed smile on my face.
We just stood there and stared at each other for a minute or two. No one said anything.
Then Katie screamed from the back door and I went inside.
An hour later I went to the store and picked up two more boxes of tests, each revealing the same result as the first.
For the next two days, Jason stressed about how unprepared we were, while I happily repeated “We’ll be fine,” over and over again. It became my mantra.
And then we switched. By Tuesday morning, Jason was excited and enthusiastic, and I was a mess.
Eventually, we talked each other down, worked out how we think it will (hopefully) work out, and realized that this baby is a blessing, no matter how unexpected.
Now that we’ve gotten over the initial shock, my husband and I are both excited about the upcoming arrival.
We’re also still just a little bit terrified.
Katie will be 21 months old when the new baby gets here.
We’re going to have two in diapers and two in cribs. I’m going to have two complete sets of nursery furniture, and my slick little stroller will soon be traded in for a massive, heavy, stretched out double version.
Katie still doesn’t sleep through the night. Hopefully she will by the time her brother or sister arrives, but either way, I know it will be a long time before I ever sleep again.
I can’t help but wondering how we will handle it all. I know there are times when it seems like the two of us can barely keep up with the one we have now.
I also worry about Katie. Sometimes I feel like I’m cheating her out of her chance to be an only child for awhile, forcing her to share mommy and daddy’s attention before she’s ready.
My heart is so full of love right now for her, it’s hard to imagine there being room enough for another.
My mom put me at ease. She explained that I don’t divide the love inside my heart, my heart just grows until there is room enough for more.
I’m still worried about how crazy and hectic my life is about to become, but I’m also really excited about what lies ahead.
Katie has brought so much joy into my life, and all that joy is about to be doubled.
First birthdays are rough
(April 28, 2010)
Katie in her birthday dress!
She REALLY liked her cake!
I have a one-year-old.
It feels so strange to say that.
My daughter, Katie, just celebrated her first birthday. It was a rough day for me. I can’t remember the last time I was so very happy and so very sad, all at the same time.
I spent a lot of time that day reflecting on the last year, and how much my life has changed. Since Katie was born, I’ve never been so tired, so stressed, so scared. I’ve never been so happy.
Every aspect of my life is different than it was just one year ago. Things that used to matter so much, are now just tiny matters. Things I never dreamt I’d care about are now a major concern. My life is no longer my own, it revolves around Katie, and what she needs. I love that.
I spent Katie’s birthday watching her. Watching her run, watching her play. Watching her laugh, chase the dog, dance and nap. I stared at her and tried to figure out how she grew so fast.
Was it really just one year ago she was so tiny? Just a little five-pound baby, completely unable to do anything on her own?
Now here she is, Miss Independent, running circles around the house. She climbs the stairs and the furniture. She would rather go hungry than have someone feed her, and has traded her bottle of formula for a sippy cup of milk.
Other moms warned me that time would go by quickly, but I had no idea how fast it could fly.
It makes me both happy and sad to see her so grown up. I’m happy to be sleeping through the night (almost), but at times I find myself missing our late night visits. Cuddle times now are few and far between, as Katie is much too busy to spend time sitting on mommy’s lap.
Every new step she takes is both gratifying and heartbreaking. I’m so proud that she’s healthy, and strong and growing just as she should. But then again, I’d give just about anything to hold on to my baby girl forever.
In the last year, I’ve learned a lot about life, and even more about myself.
I’ve learned what’s really important, and it’s nothing that would have made my list just over a year ago. I’ve learned what it means to be happy, and how important it is to realize your blessings.
I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I ever thought I could be. I’ve learned that it’s OK to ask for help.
I’ve learned that I was made to be a mommy.
I’ve learned that your heart really can walk around outside of your body.
This last year has been amazing. I’m sad it is over, but happy to be moving on to the new adventures that I know await me and my “Big Girl”.
Super slacker
(April 26, 2010)
I am a slacker. Or at least I feel like one.
It’s been just over three months since my last blog.
I’ve been busy and neglecting this particular part of my job, but I’ve decided not to do that anymore. I had intended for this blog to be more like a record book, recording all of the little steps and milestones in Katie’s life. I’m barely into the first year, and there are already chapters missing.
I guess we all know what happens with the best laid plans, right?
I’m rearranging my priorities, and placing this blog a little closer to the top.
Life happens, and things get in the way, but I promise not to let this get too far behind.
Happy first birthday, Katie!
(April 8, 2010)
My baby girl is 1 today! I can't believe it!
She can walk!
(January 13, 2010)
Katie can walk!!!
Due to her bout of pneumonia, I stayed home from work with her today. The day started off rough, since her double doses of antibiotics had her vomiting, Exorcist style, through most of the night. She was feeling better, so I let her play in the living room while I tackled the mess that had accumulated in my living room (and the rest of my house).
I was standing behind the couch, returning a pile of blocks to their proper home, when I heard Miss Katie’s squeals of delight. I looked up just in time to see her let go of her trusty friend, the coffee table, and take off on her own.
She’s been making attempts a lot lately, and Jason and I always count to see how far she goes, but we never get far. She just hadn’t been able to plant that second step.
But plant it she did this time.
I started the count silently in my head, “One, two, THREE, FOUR…” I stopped breathing as she continued across the room.
Imagine my surprise when I counted to 15 before she made a crash landing just before she reached the dining room!
I had to know what she had been after, so I went the other way around the house to check it out. There, hunched down under the dining room table, was our cat, Rocky, looking like he had just had the fright of his life.
Apparently, the fact that she can now chase him on just two feet was quite alarming.
All this time, Jason and I have been waging a silent battle, each hoping to be the one she was heading for the first time she took those magical steps.
I should have guessed that it wouldn’t be mommy or daddy. Only the cat and dog can get her that excited!
I spent the rest of the day standing her up and trying to get her to walk to me. Sometimes she did, and sometimes she didn’t.
I’m just so glad she picked a day I was home. I would be completely broken-hearted if she had taken her first steps at the baby sitter’s house. I’ve been so afraid that would happen!
A day at the doctor’s
(January 12, 2010)
Katie has been sick. Again.
She was up two nights in a row with a horrible cough, so I took her to the doctor this morning, thinking it would be another routine visit and that she had another one of her colds. Wrong. Neither one of us had any idea what we were in for.
The doctor listened to her cough and immediately ordered a chest X-ray.
When I heard they were going to do this, the first thing I wondered was how they were going to get her to lie still long enough to get a good shot. I found that out soon enough.
We took her back to the X-ray room and stripped her down to her diaper, and the X-ray tech showed ME how to hold her down to the table. I had to stand beside her, holding her feet it one hand and pinning her arms above her head with the other.
I felt like the meanest mommy in the world as she screamed and cried and tried to break free. All I could do was tell her how sorry I was while I smiled my biggest smile and tried to make her think something GOOD was happening. Yeah right.
The X-rays showed a touch of pneumonia – scary words for a mom to hear. But then it got worse.
“I don’t like that cough. Has she been around anyone with whooping cough?” the doctor asked.
Whooping cough! Seriously?
Inside my head, I was having a mini panic attack, picturing Katie in a crib at Children’s Hospital, while trying to seem as calm as possible on the outside. “Really? Is that what it sounds like?” I asked.
The doc said it did, so we had to test for it. This test was worse than the X-ray.
Basically, I had to hold her down on the table while they took what appeared to be a pipe cleaner, and stuck it far enough up her nose to touch her eye ball. Talk about a day of torture. Poor baby.
To top it all off, she has ANOTHER double ear infection, and we have now been referred to a specialist for that.
The doctor sent us home with two different antibiotics and two days to wait for the results of the Whooping cough test.
Hopefully, tomorrow is a better day.
"No"
(January 9, 2010)
“No.”
“No. Katie. Katie. No. Katie, no! NO!”
That’s what it sounds like at my house right now.
I don’t want to be one of those parents who don’t let their kids touch anything, but I also cannot spend another day doing nothing but chasing her around and moving her away from everything.
It got to where the only thing Jason and I were doing was taking turns following her around and taking things out of her hands, only to have her pick whatever it was back up again two seconds later.
So, out of desperation combined with an attempt at solid parenting, I decided to try to teach her what “no” means.
She’s smart. She picked it up quickly. Little did I know that the tricky part would not be teaching her what it meant, but teaching her to listen.
She has a pretty funny trick.
You tell her no, and she stops what she was doing, almost immediately. Then she gives her most adorable “aren’t I just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” look.
Here’s where it gets tricky. You have to tell her “no” again, in a firm voice, and keep a straight look on your face.
If you crack a smile, even just a little, or sound less than firm, she promptly returns to what she was doing, probably because she assumes that you couldn’t possibly have been serious.
It’s really hard not to smile back, or even laugh. She really is quite cute when she does it.
Sometimes, she even brings out the big guns.
She has a “frowny face.” It’s the saddest, most pitiful face that I’ve ever seen, and it only comes out when you won’t let her do something REALLY fun, like make soup with the dog’s food and water bowls. She turns her smile completely upside into a hugely exagerated frown, and then sticks her bottom lip out far as it can possibly go.
It’s enough to instantly break your heart and make you laugh out loud, all at once.
She has tried this one not only on me, but also my mom and dad, all on separate occasions.
My mom almost cried.
My dad laughed so hard he almost hurt himself. According to him, she inherited that trick from her mother. Oops.
I’m sticking to it, though. It’s hard on us both right now, but I know I’ll be grateful later.
Welcome to 2010
(January 2, 2010)
It seems like everywhere I look, people are saying “Goodbye and good riddance!” to 2009. I know it was a bad year for many, especially with the economy, but I have to say, I’m going to miss it.
The year 2009, for me, was all about becoming a mommy. I rang it in with an ever-growing pregnant belly, and spent the first four months of it preparing for Katie’s arrival.
Since then, well, I guess you know how I’ve spent it if you’re reading this!
I said goodbye to 2009 with my beautiful baby girl sleeping peacefully in her crib, just a few rooms away.
All I’m trying to say is that 2009 doesn’t have the same bad vibes for me as it seems to with so many.
Farewell, 2009. You’ll always have a special place in my heart!
Happy New Years!
(January 1, 2010)
My first New Year’s Eve was definitely different than the New Years Eves of my past.
Instead of partying all night with my girlfriends and their hubbies, Jason and I sat on our couch in our jammies and rang in the new year watching “Ratatouille.”
I thought about dropping her off with grandma and grandpa, and I’m sure they would have dropped their plans in a minute to take her, but I’m just not ready to be away from her for a whole night.
We actually ended up having a nice night. It was good to be inside where it was warm. Plus, who am I kidding – midnight is about as late as I can stay awake most nights now!
I don’t think I would have been the life of the party!
A Christmas to remember (part two)
(December 30, 2009)
We had a great time with the family. No one could believe how mach Katie had grown.
A couple of hours into visit, though, I started to feel sick. We made a quick exit, and by the time we got home, it was clear that I was sick.
I was quickly quarantined to the bedroom and Jason spent the rest of Christmas by himself with Katie.
By the middle of the next day, ten people in my family had come down with the “stomach flu,” at least one person from each household. Instead of Christmas Joy, we had been spreading Christmas Crud.
I stayed upstairs and away from Katie for two days. It was awful, but the last thing I wanted to do was make her sick. The worst part about getting sick was actually the fear that I had already exposed her to something without knowing it.
It was so hard to stay away from her for that long. She had a long couple of days leading up to this, so a difficult night was expected. I could hear her cry, but I couldn’t go help.
I didn’t want to miss her playing with all of her new toys, so I sat on the steps the next day and watched her through the posts.
By Sunday, I was pretty worn down, but mostly recovered. When I heard her crying in her crib that morning, I decided it was safe to let Jason sleep and get her myself. I had never been so happy to change a diaper!
It was a crazy holiday weekend. Thankfully, both Katie and Jason stayed healthy, and the rest of my family is now recovered as well.
One thing is for sure. No one will be forgetting Katie’s first Christmas anytime soon!
A Christmas to remember (part one)
(December 29, 2009)
She really seemed to get into opening presents after awhile!
I think she liked the paper more than the presents!
Katie’s first Christmas was one for the record books.
I knew things would be different this year. Christmas was all about her and that’s how I wanted it. Some of the changes, however, were difficult.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t spend Christmas morning at my mom and dad’s house in Groveport. Everyone came to our house, instead, so Katie could have her first Christmas at home. I made a breakfast casserole and we ate around my dining room table instead of theirs. It’s good to start new traditions, but hard to let go of the old ones.
Christmas Eve was fun. Jason and I played Santa, getting all the presents stacked up around the tree, and he assembled her biggest present so we could play with her the next morning while we waited for everyone to arrive.
I had visions of Katie’s squeals of delight when she saw the tree and presents on Christmas morning, but she IS only eight months old. Of course she had no idea what was going on.
We taught her how to unwrap presents and then let her dig in. She liked the paper more than most of the toys, and her favorite gift of all seemed to be the hangers that her new pajamas came on.
Still, it was so much fun watching her have fun.
Once the presents were opened, it was time to get ready to go see more family. Little did we know that our Christmas Adventure had only begun…
She speaks!
(December 7, 2009)
Katie said her first word on Friday! It was “mom!”
Actually, it was “mom momomomomomom.”
It’s now just about the only thing that comes out of her mouth. To bad she has no idea what she’s saying. Not only am I Momomomom, but so is my husband, our dog, my parents and her toys.
I spent the whole weekend saying “I’M Mom, Katie.”
It still melts my heart every time I hear it, even if she doesn’t mean it.
Stinky feet
(December 3, 2009)
My beautiful, adorable, teeny tiny, petite little girl….has super stinky feet. No joke.
I was getting her into her pajamas last night and playing our usual game of “Mommy’s gonna eat your feet!” when I got those tootsies close to my face. Wow!
How does an eight month old baby get feet that smell like they belong to a grown man (a grown man with REALLY stinky feet)?
This what it sounded like in my house…
“Oh my God! Your feet stink! Jason, come over here and smell her feet!”
“I’m not smelling her feet.”
“She’s a baby. It’s abnormal. You have to smell her feet.”
So he did. He smelled her feet, and he agreed that they stunk. And that they shouldn’t.
We spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out why they would stink (I swear I bathe her!) and hoping that she doesn’t turn out to be the stinky kid.
Bed time is the best time
(December 2, 2009)
I’m not sure how I’ve made it work, but I’ve put Katie to bed every night since she was born.
Every night for almost eight months now, I’ve kissed her head and laid her in her crib, most of the time with Jason by my side, but sometimes without.
It’s one of my favorite mommy duties. I love when she’s sleepy and cuddly. I love when she falls asleep in my arms.
My job calls for a few late nights here and there, but I have always gotten home before she goes to bed.
Not last night. For the first time since I had her, I got stuck covering an unbelievably long meeting. I’m talking almost midnight long.
When her 9 p.m. bedtime approached, I sent Jason a text message, letting him know I was nowhere close to home. He replied that she was sleepy and he was going to give her a bottle (which would instantly take her to dreamland).
I cried. In the meeting. Seriously.
No, I don’t mean the snotty, slobbering, sobbing kind of cry, but when I read it, my eyes instantly welled up with tears and I had to hide my face in my hair. How embarrassing.
I got home (finally!) and went up to her room, where I rested my hand on her back (yeah, I still have to check and make sure she’s breathing EVERY time I walk past her room) and watched her for awhile. Of course, she was fine and all was well, but I was still sad I had missed out on her evening.
I had to fight my urge to wake her up, just so I could put her back to bed.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but it constantly amazes me what a big impact all the little things have.
One mommy milestone down, one million to go.
Medical degree required
(December 1, 2009)
There’s a fine line between being the crazy mother that takes her child to the doctor every time they sneeze, and the mom who doesn’t pay enough attention and get their child help when they need it.
Walking that line is proving to be rough for me.
A couple of months back, Katie had a cold that turned into a wheeze. I took her to see her pediatrician, and she coughed up whatever gunk was clogging her pipes while we were in the waiting room. Needless to say, she sounded as healthy as could be when the doctor arrived, and there I sat, looking every bit like the crazy mother.
About a month after that, she developed the same symptoms. The wheeze really bothered me, but I tried to be tough, it was only a cold. When it didn’t go away, I took her to see the doc, sure that it would again be nothing and I would further reinforce my status as “nuts,” but nope, she had bronchiolitis. It was a serious illness requiring at-home breathing treatments and two follow-up appointments. She had a double ear infection on top of it. I felt like the world’s worst mom.
So yesterday, after a rough night and a weekend of ear pulling, I called in and insisted that she be seen. Surely she had an ear infection and I wasn’t going to let her suffer like the last time. I felt a small victory when I got an appointment and spent my morning rushing to get her there.
Wouldn’t you know it? Her ears were clear.
“It must be teething,” he doctor said.
Who knew you’d need a medical degree to be a mom?
Obsess much?
(November 30, 2009)
Ever since I was in college and had my first apartment, I have been a little bit obsessive about the placement of things.
I wasn’t always a big cleaner, never a fan of dusting (I don’t want you to get the wrong idea) but everything has always had its place and is expected to be there.
It’s been a point of humor for my friends and family, many of whom have moved a thing from to time, just to see if I found it (I always did), and it’s been a point of contention between my husband and I. Let’s just say he’s not as particular about the placement of things as I am.
I have no idea how many times I’ve heard, “Just wait until you have kids!”
Since Katie got here, however, I’ve been rather proud of myself for the steps away from my “OCD” tendencies, as Jason calls them.
How could I not improve, right? There are toys all over, jumperoos and excersuacers blocking walkways, diaper bags and a car seat by the door, and used bibs and spare binkies on nearly every surface.
True, everything gets picked up and put away throughout the day, and everything MUST be in its place before I go to bed, but to an extent, I can deal. At least I thought so.
Thanksgiving was at my house this year. There were several kids there between the ages of 4 and 8, and somehow, Katie’s room became the designated play area.
When everyone had left and I had tackled the cleanup of the kitchen, I made my way upstairs. I was a little afraid of what I would find, but imagine my surprise when the room appeared to be in order!
I breathed a sigh of relief, and then looked a little closer.
The room was not in order at all! At least not MY order.
The books were on the shelf, but they were not in order from tallest to smallest. The toys were in the bins, but were not separated into the proper categories. There were even hard, plastic toys in the stuffed animal basket (gasp!).
I spent at least 15 to 20 minutes recleaning the room. While I was in the middle of the cleaning, I came to a realization. I do not have a handle on this at all.
I still have a LONG way to go.
Mashed potato dreams
(November 28, 2009)
For weeks, I’ve been waiting to give Katie mashed potatoes.
She’s been slowly making her way towards “big people food” for some time now, and mashed potatoes was going to be the gateway.
My mom and I set the date for Thanksgiving. What better day to venture into the wonderful world of real food than a holiday set aside just to celebrate eating, right?
So the big day arrived, and my mom spent the whole morning telling her about the great meal she was in for.
She did eat her regular lunch, squash and applesauce, a la Gerber. All the big people ate their feast, and then the moment arrived.
We made the announcement of the momentous occasion about to occur, and my mother-in-law, Judy, who was holding her at the time, brought her over as my mom and I prepared.
“Here we go!” the three of said in unison.
She took a bite, slowly chewed…made a gagging face and spit it out.
Bummer.
“The potatoes must be too thick. Maybe if you thin them,” Judy said.
Agreeing that must be the problem, I stirred in some tasty noodle broth and tried again.
And again she gagged and spit.
All our faces fell simultaneously. She wasn’t into the new food, and we were actually sad about it.
Katie had crushed our mashed potato dreams.
Starting them young
(November 18, 2009)
My mom and I are marathon shoppers. It’s kind of like a sport for us, and it used to be an almost weekly event.
We hadn’t been since Katie, and we definitely hadn’t been WITH Katie, until last night.
Don’t get me wrong. Katie is a trained shopper – I believe in starting them early. She’s only used to one or two stores at a time, however, not extended marathon events.
We were on a mission for a winter coat for her, and my husband was busy, so rather than change the date (we had our hearts set on an expedition that evening) we brought her along.
I have a stroller, and though it is big and bulky, it opens and closes in one quick motion. I also have the “Floppy,” a kind of cloth cover that keeps kids from licking the slime off of shopping carts. Both were in my trunk and at the ready, depending on what kind of store we went to.
Gone are the days of whipping into parking lots and running inside, that’s for sure. It’s definitely more of a production to get into the store. First you have to set up the stroller or install the Floppy, and then you have to maneuver her out of her car seat. Once she’s securely strapped into the stroller/cart, you have to find the shoe that she undoubtedly lost somewhere in the transfer, then make sure the diaper bag is properly stocked and the binky is in your pocket.
If you go inside and don’t find that golden item, you exit the store and do the whole process in reverse (including the shoe hunt – she ALWAYS loses her shoe), only to drive to the next store and start over.
It definitely adds some time to your trip. It was fun to be back at it with my mom again, but I noticed that we did change our methods just a bit. We were a bit more selective about where we went, no more “lets just run in and see” kind of stops. Not worth it.
Thankfully, Katie was a trooper. Five stores in all (yeah, we’ve definitely scaled back) and she wasn’t fussy until the ride home. She even modeled our final selections for us and helped us narrow down the choices by drooling on her favorite pick.
She’s learning!
Busy
(November 16, 2009)
“What did we do without her?”
My mom posed this question over the weekend, after Katie made us laugh so hard we both were crying.
When she said it, she meant it more as an expression of affection than anything else, but her question got me thinking.
What DID I do without her?
When I think back to my pre-mommy days, I distinctly remember myself being busy. People asked me how I was, and that was often my answer. “Busy.” Busy at work, busy cleaning the house, busy with…..the dog? Shopping? What was I doing?
Seems like these days, aside from working, Katie takes up pretty much all of my time. If I subtracted all of my Katie-related activities, I’d have….nothing. Why was I so “busy”?
My mom was right...(again)
(November 12, 2009)
I remember a conversation I had with my mom not too long ago. I was wondering when Katie would start moving around, and she warned me not to be too anxious – there would be a time I would wish she wasn’t quite so mobile.
I also remember thinking she was nuts. Why in the world wouldn’t I want Katie to crawl and walk? That’s when all the fun starts, right?
Imagine my surprise when I gave a friend that same advice yesterday!
Don’t get me wrong – I’m thrilled with all of the progress she has made. Playtime is so much more fun, and it seems like everyday she’s improved on the day before. Still, she’s definitely keeping me on my toes.
As of today, her favorite things to do at home include removing everything from the bottom of my bookshelf, ripping up magazines and mail, playing in the dog’s bowls, pulling on curtains and tugging on cords.
Toys are SO yesterday!
Why buy toys?
(November 9, 2009)
She has more toys than she could ever ask for, but chooses to play with the laundry basket. It’s the little things!
Leaps and bounds!
(November 8, 2009)
It was a big weekend at the Coy household.
Katie woke up Friday morning with her first tooth. I was, of course, bursting with pride, and called my husband right away, followed by my mom and a quick post to my facebook page. It was as if I had willed the tooth to grow myself, I was so proud.
The next day, I looked over and saw Katie sitting and playing with her toys. Seconds later, I realized that I hadn’t left her in a sitting position. I had to investigate. I walked over and laid her on her back. Sure enough, she sat up and started playing again. Yay! She’s sitting up all by herself! Again, phone call, phone call, facebook.
Later that same day, my husband and I were enjoying a rare lazy Saturday afternoon. I was on the couch and he was laying on the floor, when Katie crawled over to him. She put both hands on his stomach and raised herself to a standing position, like she'd been doing it forever. He looked at me, I looked at him, and we silently agreed that we had, in fact, bred a genius. She just started crawling!
She spent the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday climbing every vertical surface in the house, enjoying seeing the world from this slightly higher viewpoint.
Definitely a weekend for the record books.
Say “cheese!”
(November 3, 2009)
Picture number 9,999.
Katie is my first child.
That makes it OK for me to take picture, after picture, after picture of her, right? Wrong.
On the night of Trick or Treat, I got her all dressed up in her pink butterfly costume and prepared to begin the photo shoot I had planned. I took one picture (which, thankfully, turned out great), and that was it. My camera stopped working.
Instantly, panic set in. This was her FIRST Trick or Treat. Her FIRST costume. And she looked adorable. How was I supposed to preserve these memories forever without the help of my trusty Fuji?
Quickly, I ran inside, dug my backup camera out of a drawer and found some batteries that still had some life left (a truly difficult task in a house with a small child, I’ve learned). Crisis averted.
After the big event, thoughts of my malfunctioning, and still fairly new, camera loomed in my mind. I decided to investigate. It didn’t take me long to realize that the one photo I snapped that night was photo number 9,999. My problem was easy to solve – I had stumped my memory card. It didn’t know what to do with a fifth digit.
Seemed like a simple problem until I really gave it some thought.
I HAVE TAKEN 9,999 PHOTOS.
Oh yeah, and I got that camera in June. Of this year.
Yes, I take photos for work. I figure I can credit maybe 1,000 photos to a work-related purpose. And more photos have been deleted than saved. But still, that’s a lot of shutter work.
I think Katie must be the most photographed child ever. Do I have a problem?
On the move
(October 30, 2009)
I think she's going to do it......
.....and here she comes!
“Uh oh!”
That’s the first thing most people say when they hear about Katie’s newest trick – crawling. And, as I soon found out, they're right!
She’s been scooting around on her belly for some time now, and a couple of weeks ago it turned into a type of army crawl. Last weekend she mastered the full out, hands and knees crawl. I’ve been in trouble ever since.
In one weeks’ time, she’s become so much more active. She’s always on the move and she’s always into things. Gone are the days of laying her on the floor with a toy or two while I run and put clothes in the wash!
Also behind us seems to be the days of having a baby that always wants to be held. Suddenly, she’s always squirming, trying to get down and move around. That does make it a little easier for mommy and daddy to get things done, but I’m not sure I’m ready for a baby that doesn’t need held all the time. I wonder if that’s just a phase that will pass as the novelty of mobility wears off? I kind of hope so!
It’s so much fun though, to see her crawl across the floor after the dog or the cat. It makes my day when I walk in the door and she crawls over to greet me, and yesterday she melted my heart when I was sitting on the floor and she tried to crawl onto my lap.
It’s been so exciting to watch her learn. She’s still a little wobbly, so she tends to tip forward from time to time. Sometimes she’s paying so much attention to the whole “right hand, left hand, right leg, left leg” thing that she forgets to look where she’s going and runs into walls and furniture. But she gets steadier every day, and she gets faster every hour.
Here comes trouble!
Mommy’s night
(October, 21, 2009)
Katie is a daddy’s girl.
He can make her smile and laugh like no one else can, and she lights up like a Christmas tree when he walks into the room.
While I love that my husband and daughter have such a special relationship, I’ll admit, I can get jealous from time to time.
The other night, however, was mommy’s night.
Katie wasn’t feeling well. She’s been sick, has two ear infections, and may or may not be teething. It was bedtime, and she was miserable.
Jason was holding her and doing our usual “laps around the house,” a common ritual when she refuses to go down for the night. The lights were out, the television was turned down so low it was barely audible, and she was almost out. And then she wasn’t.
Out of nowhere, she let loose with a horrible cry. She sat up, eyes wide open and tears streaming, and was inconsolable. She didn’t want a bottle, she didn’t want her binky.
I had been across the room, letting daddy handle it, when I couldn’t take it anymore. Not that Jason can’t handle her – he can, but I had to try.
As soon as I got close, she turned around and held out her arms toward me. It was the first time she had ever reached for me, or anyone.
Jason stuck out his bottom lip in a feigned pout, and I took my baby girl into my arms. She took her binky, laid back, and was asleep in seconds.
As I stood there, swaying back and forth in my living room, holding a sick, tear-stained baby, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
All she needed was mom.
Six months!
My big girl, playing me a song!
(October 14, 2009)
My baby girl is six months old.
I knew that was a huge milestone in baby-speak, but I had no idea how huge until we got here.
It’s like she’s not a little baby anymore! She’s sitting up and playing with toys, and army crawling around the room. Any day now, she’ll follow me into the kitchen.
She has this little personality all of a sudden. She smiles and laughs all day long.
I spent a big part of my weekend packing away teeny tiny clothes and getting out “big girl” outfits. I know, her clothes are not really THAT big, but it wasn’t that long ago that I thought she’d never be big enough to fit into these same outfits!
I also packed away half of my baby gear. She’s too big for her play mat, and she doesn’t use her bouncy seat anymore. She hasn’t been in her bassinet forever, and she sits unsupported, so there’s no need for the Boppy. She’s too long for her sleep sacks, and she climbs up the bumper around her crib. It’s all found a new home in the basement, waiting for Baby Coy Number Two (who I kind of hope is a girl, whenever that may be, because lot of this stuff is pink!).
Everyone told me it would go by fast, but I had no idea it would be this fast.
She sat up!
(September 25, 2009)
Katie sat up all by herself last night!
Sure, it only lasted about 20 seconds before she fell backwards (yes, I caught her), but still, she did it!
She's growing so fast! It makes me so happy and so sad, all at the same time.
My, how times have changed
(September 21, 2009)
When I was pregnant with Katie, everywhere I went people gave me advice - whether I wanted it or not. One of the most common little bits of wisdom I heard was “Your life will never be the same!”
I know, right? Duh.
Yes, my life has changed. Drastically. But for the better. I can’t imagine my life without her and I have no idea what I did with my time before her. I wouldn’t change a thing.
There is one little part of my “former life” that I do miss from time to time. I miss my books.
I used to read every day, usually a book or two a week. My idea of a perfect Sunday was to spend all day in my pajamas, reading a great book from front to back.
My, how times have changed.
I’m a huge Dan Brown fan and had been awaiting the release of his newest book, “The Lost Symbol” for awhile.
When it came out last week, I had it in my hands within minutes of its release. Then I went straight to bed without even reading the first page.
After that, it claimed a prime spot on my kitchen counter for five days, me walking past it all day long and thinking, “I can’t wait to read you!”
Yesterday, my husband decided I needed some “me time,” and offered to keep Katie entertained for as long as I wanted.
I grabbed my book and headed upstairs, shutting myself in the bedroom with my dog, Max. We got comfy and I dove in, overwhelmed with excitement at the “crack” as it opened and the smell of a book that’s never been read.
I tore through the first two chapters, thrilled to be temporarily transported into Brown’s world of mystery, controversy and conspiracy.
Then I closed the book, and Max and I took and two hour nap. It was great.
I’ll finish my book, but it’s going to take awhile, and that’s okay with me.
Dinner time is fun for all
(August 18, 2009)
As much as she likes her new food, Katie would rather see you wear it.
During a trip to the doctor last Friday, I got permission to start Katie on stage one fruits and veggies.
Yay!
Buying food for her is so much fun. I spend way too much time standing in the aisles of grocery stores debating wether she would like the green beans or the squash, or if it would be beneficial for her to have peas before she tastes bananas.
I love the little jars and little spoons...they look so cute in my cabinets!
Feeding her is fun, too. I love to watch her face when she tastes something new for the first time.
A pureed vegetable dinner, however, is not without its challenges.
Katie has recently learned to blow raspberries, and now she has found that it’s much more fun to blow raspberries made out of carrots (and rice cereal, oatmeal, bananas and squash, so far...).
Basically, every time I hold the spoon up to her mouth, I have about a 50/50 chance of getting the food shot right back at me, wether she likes it or not.
I’ve learned not to dress for work before feeding her breakfast.
The act of coating me with veggie puree must be hysterically funny, because it’s always followed by squeals of delight from Miss Katie.
I’ll admit, as hard as I try not to, I usually laugh, with her.
I hate shots
(August 17, 2009)
I hate shots.
I don’t mind them so much when they happen to me, but I hate when they happen to Katie
Doctor’s visits are a roller coaster ride of highs and lows. They start all smiley, with talk of milestones and accomplishments, new toys and new foods.
The doctor comes in and plays with her, trying to make friends and see how she interacts.
Then just when she gets her smiling and happy, she leaves and sends in the nurse with her tray-o-needles.
Katie lays on the table, smiling and laughing, completely unaware of what’s about to happen, while I sit there nervous, ready to cry.
This is where I get conflicted. On one hand, I want to hold on to her and comfort her while she gets her shots (actually, I want to grab her and run, but I know that’s not an option).
On the other hand, I want to hide in the corner, completely out of her line of sight, so that I will in no way be associated with doing this to her. Is that awful?
I try my best to distract her, but of course it doesn’t work. As soon as she gets her shots, she turns bright red and lets out the most pitiful cry. It breaks my heart. I snatch her up off the table and try to calm her down.
Luckily, she’s a trooper. All it takes is a binky and her soft pink blankey, and she’s miraculously healed and completely over it.
To bad mommy doesn’t bounce back so quickly.
I spend the rest of the day apologizing, sure that she must hate me for taking her to that awful place.
We usually stop to buy a toy on our way home.
At least she makes a profit.
French vanilla cereal, anyone?
(August 13, 2009)
This morning, I made Katie’s cereal with coffee creamer.
I poured the powdered mix into a bowl and left it sitting on the counter next to my coffee cup. That’s just a part of my morning routine. When she gets up, I add the formula and heat it up for her.
This morning, I poured my coffee, got the creamer out of the fridge, and poured it into the cereal. I think the worst offense is that I actually started to stir it in, but in my defense, the formula and the creamer are similar colors and consistencies. I’m not sure how far I would have gotten with this, had I not picked up the coffee to take a swig and noticed that it was still black.
I think this is a sign that I need more sleep. But then again, maybe the famous “momnesia” is starting to set in.
Growing girl
(August 10, 2009)
Miss Katie, playing with her favorite toy and looking like she's up to something.
Babies grow so fast.
Katie is now four-months-old. She’s growing so fast, both mentally and physically, changing right before my eyes.
Every day there is something new. Smiling, laughing, blowing raspberries – each step is bigger than the one before.
She’s playing with toys, and eating cereal (even though I usually end up wearing some of it). It’s amazing.
Just last weekend I took an entire tub of clothes that she has already grown out of and packed it away in the basement. Some of those things still had the tags on them – now I understand why everyone told me not to buy so many clothes!
Every time she does something new, it brings a tear to my eye. I’m happy to see her growing and advancing (she is a genius, you know), but at the same time, it’s so sad to see it happen so quickly.
It’s hard to believe, but before I know it, she’ll be walking and talking.
Officially a mom
(July 10, 2009)
At what point did you realize you were officially a mom?
I’m not talking about the moment your child was born. Yes, of course, that’s when you technically become a mother. But when did you realize that you were acting like a mom – or your own mom to be exact?
My moment came this morning.
My dog, Max, woke me up at 6 a.m. I got up to let him out, and while he was doing his business outside, I checked on Katie. She was sleeping like a rock.
Normally, I would usher him inside and jump back into bed, praying that the beautiful baby in the room next to mine would sleep for just one more hour.
This morning, I unloaded the dishwasher. Then I put in a load of laundry. Then I folded the towels that were in the dryer – I even put them away.
Eventually, I made it back to my room and layed down, but I think it was more because I felt like I should than anything else. As I layed there, proud of myself and this strange burst of domestic motivation that had come upon me this morning, I wondered where it came from.
Then I remembered my mom, early in the morning, while everyone else could barely open their eyes. There she stood in her robe, with a cup of coffee on the dryer as she changed over her second load of laundry so far that day.
It must be a mom thing.
The next generation
(July 7, 2009)
The Fourth of July this year was kind of like a reunion for me.
It had been a few years since I spent this holiday in my hometown, watching the parade from my parents’ front yard. While the event may have lost some of its magic, the day was still as wondrous as ever.
One by one, childhood friends, old teammates and long gone aquaintances began to appear. Almost everyone was pushing a stroller. As all the new mommies lined up with their babies to pose for pictures (because, of course, the first thing you do when you see a baby is get out your camera) I realized how different, but still the same, things were.
The same families still gather for the festivities, but so many of those families are bigger now. The same smiling faces still watch the parade, but those smiles are now directed towards strollers, more than floats. The same friends still resurface each year, now as proud moms and dads.
The next generation has arrived.
Katie's smile
(June 29, 2009)
I live for Katie’s smiles.
No matter where I am, on my couch or in the middle of a grocery store, I find myself making funny faces and silly sounds, anything to catch a glimpse of that gummy grin.
Even in the middle of the night, when I'm awake and don't want to be, she smiles at me from her crib, and there's no where else I'd rather be than smiling back at her.
It makes my day. It warms my heart. Sometimes, it even makes me cry.
Nothing makes me smile like Katie’s smile.
Am I rotting her brain?
(June 23, 2009)
My daughter, Katie, likes to watch TV. All kids like to watch TV, right? No big deal?
My daughter is 11 weeks old.
When you hold her in the presence of the television, she must be upright so that she can see the screen. If you try to face her away from the television, she screams until you make the necessary adjustments.
We put her in the swing and turn on the mobile, which, by the way, is designed specifically for the entertainment of infants, but still, she’d rather watch “The Closer.”
Katie, sitting in her favorite seat in the house.
I try to discourage this behavior. I know she’ll have plenty of TV watching time to come. It won’t be long before “Dora the Explorer” and “SpongeBob SquarePants” rule her world.
I’ve tried a million other things to get her attention. Bright toys, rattles, musical bouncy seats. Maybe when she’s older, these things will work, but for now, nothing captivates her like our flat screen.
I know, I know. She’s not actually watching the show. She just likes the lights and the movement. Still, it just feels wrong.
But, ya know, sometimes a mom needs a break. It doesn’t matter if this break is of the bathroom variety, or maybe for laundry or to take a phone call. Sometimes I just have to put her down.
Sometimes I put her down in front of the TV.
Is that bad? Is it horrible? Does it make me a bad parent?
The tsk tsks coming from my grandma tell me “yes,” but I’m not sure it’s true.
“You moms are so different these days, always on the go. Babies just have to grow up so fast,” she scolded me. The disapproval was obvious.
So what’s a girl to do? As a new mom, I find myself grasping for anything that will capture Katie’s attention, even just for a minute or two. Sure, I love holding her, but it’s hard to unload the dishwasher or cook dinner with a baby in your arms.
Still, every time I turn her swing or tilt her up so she can see the show, I can’t help but wonder, am I rotting her brain?
First weeks are crazy, but great
(June 22, 2009)
Here she is, just three days old!
So here I am, back at work.
My maternity leave went by in what seemed to me like the blink of an eye.
I had a baby girl, Katie Coy, on April 8. She was just a little peanut at five pounds 12 ounces. I was induced one week before my due date for medical reasons, and like many inductions, ended up with a c-section. If you ask me, I think I got off easy that way.
I took a bit of an extended leave, being off work for nine weeks instead of the standard six, and I’m glad I did. Most of the good stuff came in those last three weeks.
The first six weeks went by in a blur. We started off good, first in the hospital with the nurses at my beck and call. Then at home with my mom there to help.
After my mom left, things got a little crazier, but my husband, Jason, and I held it together, taking turns sleeping and caring for the baby.
We started out with a lot to learn....
But we're all smiles now!
Then he went back to work and the bottom fell out.
She cried, I cried, we cried together. Neither of us slept. I went for days in the same pajamas, changing only when the smell of spoiled milk (some spilt, some thrown up, all on my clothes) was too much to take.
I became all too familiar with late-night television. At first, I thought this would be to my advantage, since the only thing worth watching at night is documentaries. I had visions of returning to work, suddenly a billion times smarter, having absorbed all of this late night knowledge. Sadly, I didn’t absorb any of it. I was too tired. Ask, Katie, poor thing. I actually fell asleep while feeding her (on numerous occasions) and then jumped awake to find myself holding the bottle to her forehead or ear. It’s a wonder I didn’t poke her eye out.
Also, during that first month or so, I developed a disturbingly high tolerance to bodily fluids. I found myself catching vomit with my bare hands and not being completely grossed out at the dried poo I spotted on my wrist an hour after the last diaper change. There was even a time when I wore a shirt with pee on it for two whole hours, simply because I forgot to change.
Visitors came to my house and I found myself handing them the baby and running, trying to squeeze whatever I could into the 20 minutes that friend or family would sit on my couch and hold my baby. Showers, laundry, lunch - it’s funny how much you miss those things when they’re gone.
Then Katie turned six weeks old, and everything changed, almost overnight.
She started sleeping, so I did too. She cried a lot less, so I did too.
Things started going smoothly. We got into a pattern and we had fun spending time together. I could get through the day on just one pot of coffee. I knew what she needed and I knew how to give it to her. I wasn’t afraid to go out into the world with her, so we spent the day on the town. This is when the real mother/daughter bonding began.
I spent those last few weeks getting to know my baby girl - enjoying her smiles and squeals, which fill most of the day. And then, all too quickly, it was over. I had to go back to work.
Now, as I sit here at my desk, staring at photos of those first few crazy weeks, I find myself wishing they had lasted a little bit longer.
She's here!
(April 9, 2009)
Katie Jill Coy was born at 10:43 a.m. on April 8. She was 5 pounds, 12 ounces and 19 inches long!
So much for two weeks!
(April 3, 2009)
Well, so much for two weeks!
Shortly after my first blog, I was informed by my doctor that the wait for our baby girl would not be quite as long as we anticipated. I’m being induced April 7, one full week before my due date.
It’s funny. Before I learned that news, I thought I was as ready as I could be. I was dying of boredom looking for anything else I could prepare. One little doctor’s appointment and all of that just flew out the window!
Within hours, my mom and I were out and about, doing what we do best – shopping. Suddenly, I had this horrible feeling that the closet full of clothes I’d prepared wasn’t full enough and the mountain of diapers I’d acquired wasn’t high enough. Also, the knowledge that she would arrive in time for Easter filled me with this strange, undeniable urge to hunt down and purchase some time of infant sized hat with bunny ears.
It seems odd how bumping things up by just one week has made it seem so much closer. Seven days can make a world of difference. Maybe it’s just the fact that I know when it’s going to happen, but what seemed before like a lifetime away, now seems unbelievably close by.
Four more days - I can’t wait!
Nothing to do but wait
(March 28, 2009)
There’s nothing like just sitting around, waiting for your whole world to change. Actually, it’s enough to drive anyone crazy.
The nursery is finished. For months now, the crib has been assembled, awaiting a sleeping (hey, a girl can dream, right?) baby girl. The dresser and closet are filled with tiny clothes, washed and arranged by size. The changing table is stocked, and the shelves are already crowded with stuffed animals, rattles, toys and books. Pictures, carefully selected after weeks of Internet searches, are hanging on the walls, which have been painted the perfect shades of pink and yellow. Her name is even hanging above the crib, claiming this perfect space we’ve made for the little girl we’ve yet to meet.
The rest of my house is ready, too. Bottles and binkies are sterilized and put away. All of my closets, drawers and cabinets are in perfect order. The carpets have been shampooed. There isn’t a speck of dust to be found. Even my stuffed and cluttered basement has found itself sparkling clean and completely organized. I wish there was a way to make this nesting thing stick around for a while post-pregnancy!
Now there’s nothing to do but wait.
According to my doctor, I still have two more weeks to go. In a way, I wish those weeks would just fly by, because I can’t wait to meet my precious baby girl and hold her in my arms. My husband and I spend time every day talking to her and asking her to hurry and get here, because we just can’t wait to start our life together as a family.
But also, as the date gets closer, panic starts to set in. I realize more and more how little I really know about babies. How do I hold her and not break her? How do I wash her and not drop her? Change her clothes without breaking her neck? Will I hear her when she cries at night – and will I have any idea what she needs? And how will I deal with that first explosive diaper?
I know that I have quite an adventure ahead of me as I begin my life as a first-time mommy. I have a wonderful support system. My husband will be a very hands-on daddy and my own mom will be there whenever I need her, as will the rest of my family.
Still, I’m sure I’ll have my ups and downs. That’s where this blog comes in. Some days will be easy, and some not so much, but most, I’m sure, will be entertaining – and I’m inviting all of you to come along for the ride as I feel my way through this strange new world called parenthood.
I welcome your comments, thoughts, ideas and advice along the way.
I’m sure I’ll be fine – I just have to take baby steps.
