Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Not Turning into Ogre's

There was a time in my life when "going out" always meant heading to the bar to party too hard, stay out as late as possible, lose my voice, pee behind bushes in public places because I didn't want to wait in the bathroom line, and cuss at some random clueless drunk girl for leaning on me too much. 
Now, "going out" means calling up a couple of friends to make an appearance at a red carpet event and sign a few autographs.

"It's boring,'s a part of my life."-- Anchorman

JUST KIDDING!  I really had you going.....didn't I? Maybe it would have been more believable if I said, "blue carpet"?
What "going out" means now is having a couple hours of just grown up bonding time (only a couple because I still have to pump, and we still have to get to bed by sunset so we don't turn into ogre's to be functional the next day).......and probably just one glass of wine, maybe two if I'm feeling frisky.
Not only was this last week our first trail of spending time away from Dillon, it was also our first time to take him to a restaurant, WITH us!
Even though our family lives two hours away, they've still managed to pitch in to help make all these milestones happen (But not without a little extra multitasking on my pumping and fixing my hair at the same time......wasn't THAT a sight for sore eyes!). 
Dillon got to meet his Great Grandmother, Nana, during this process, and Callie made sure  he was safe around this "new comer". 
And as fun as it is to get away for little pieces of time here and there, I still can't wait to get home and snuggle with my little milk monster.
Thank you, FAMILY, for pitching in, in all your ways, so Patrick and me can still be Patrick and me. We appreciate it tremendously.........but NO, you may not keep him for an entire week while we're in Colorado. No can do. Nope nopiddy nopesters.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Who You Callin' Short?

This kid.......
I don't even know if I have enough to say for all these pictures, but I'll try. 
What I can say is, Dillon is one LOVED baby. 
Since he's been born, there's rarely a day when there isn't someone coming to visit/hold him. 
Cousin Allison COULDN'T WAIT to get her hands on him. She basically kidnapped him for two straight days.
By the time she left, I missed him dearly, since she'd been stealing all his cuddles.
But even when it's just the two of us, it's never just the two of us. Callie is always fighting me to be as close as possible. She's on top of us at all times, licking and "consoling", or at most only a couple of feet away....
Patrick has to get his fill as soon as he gets home from work.
Dusty, who isn't as keen on infant cuddles, finally gave into the sweetness (it just took a little pushing on my behalf.....AKA basically throwing Dillon on his lap and abandoning the two of them so they could bond).
Of my closest local friends who have babies (all baby BOYS and within a year of each other in age), Dillon is the youngest, but only by a few weeks.

We're so blessed to have future play mates so close in age and excited to see how their friendships develop. 
And when it's just him and I, he refuses to have it any other way than being as close as possible while I'm doing chores.
All in all, life is good. But juggling everything over the span of a two story home comes with some mishaps.......
......Like supplies taking a tumble. Somehow, the other day, I completely lucked out when this container of milk bounced down the stairs and landed bottom down, only managing to spew a couple of ounces in the process. Dillon didn't seem to mind, he knew he'd get fed anyway.
 And somehow, through the big shift of priorities, I've still managed to keep my herb garden alive. Not only is it not fried by the summer heat, but it's flourishing!
I've never seen the bloom of a dill plant before....and I'm kind of loving it.
So there you have it; looks like I'm never short on words, just like Dillon is never short on cuddles. 

Thursday, July 17, 2014

1 Month: What the Hell?

Our sweet, handsome milk monster is 1 month old!!!
How did this happen? I have no idea how the last month of my life has gone by so fast. 
Never having to go to work and attending to a baby who had yet to even attempt converting to a day schedule until the last three nights has me at both a loss for any relevance to days of the week or time of day.
This boy lives to eat. Every day his total ounces consumed trends up and I gawk in amazement. His most ravenous time is early morning, just like his Mom, but unfortunately it's not okay for me to eat entire meals every hour like he can.
He started a little thing they like to call PURPLE crying that lasted the length of his last growth spurt, and true to form, he preferred to be unique about it. Ignoring the fact that most babies do this during the evening, when their parents are already awake, our child choose to stand out from the crowd by having his "special" time at around 3-4am, lasting until about 7-9am. Thankfully, I was already educated on this period babies can go through, so my enlightenment helped foster a little extra coping mechanisms I may not have otherwise been equipped with. I must say, though, no matter how much you know about a particular subject such as this, there's nothing that can fully prepare a person to soothe an un-soothable baby for 1-4 hours at a time when all you want to do is go back to sleep. Lets just say it made for a loooooooong week of growing.

Here are a few of Dillon's milestones/personality traits blossoming this month:

1. If I put him on my chest, he crawls his way to the position he wants to be in, and throws his head around (almost violently....he's even head butted me a couple of times) to migrate his way to a boob. He's very efficient at getting where he's going for such a little tike.
2. He farts more than any baby I've ever met in my entire life. Like Father, like son.
3. He's convinced pacifiers are a cruel joke invented by grown ups to torture babies with.
4. He's a total social butterfly who gets extremely bored and cranky if there isn't enough chaos around him at any given time. He can be constantly crying at home, but completely snooze through me tossing him around from carseat to carrier while running errands.
5. He loves to go fast (not of fan of stop lights.....but who is??)
6. He refuses to let us do anything about his razor sharp claws (and by that I mean scream bloody murder like we are cutting his extremities off with a spoon).
7. He LOVES to be held, cuddled, kissed, rocked, and sang to (as a matter of fact, he doesn't enjoy being put EVER....).
8. Three days ago he finally started to make the very slow shift to a proper day/night sleep schedule and is sleeping for a little longer in his new bed every night, AKA a new contraption we broke down and bought because he hates his bassinet, but it's not my bed, which means we can break less rules (trust me, you'd break the rules too, in the name of minimal sleep). I know what he's doing, though, he's faking me out before our trip, where he'll throw me for another loop!!!
9. He snorts when he's mad or really hungry, and other times he makes these really sweet little baby noises that melt my heart.
10. He graduated out of newborn diapers and newborn clothes this week......growing so fast!
11. He has like 6 hairs on the crown of his head that are exponentially longer than all the rest and can only be seen when glimmering in the sunlight that stick straight up in the air and tickle my face when I'm holding him.......and his mullet in the back is always getting that classic "bed head" look.
12. When he smiles, it's usually to one side or the other....mostly to the left, where that charming dimple appears.
13. He really enjoys bath time!

Everything else is just stuff that babies do, so I won't bore the world with it, even though it feels like something special when "you're" baby does it.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Losing It (with excitement or insanity?)

I'm seriously about to lose my mind.
Between getting man handled by airline companies and car rental companies and not knowing all the in's and out's of flying with a baby including but not limited to what to do about identification (since I didn't know how long it takes to get a birth certificate), car seats, formula, and the extra weight of general baby crap.....all while thinking about how I'm going to juggle it through the airport on my own with a NEWBORN is about to blow my mind. I'm not even good at navigating airports on my own without distractions, much less with a demanding baby who wants what he wants when he wants it and is devoid of reason. Trying to figure all of this out with that same baby, in a grumpy mood, fussing at me all the while is even more testing. He hates being bored; I don't blame him (I just walked him to sleep and have a brief moment to unwind while he sweats on's hot, but I'm too scared to take him out of the carrier and risk waking him up!).
If I don't have a mental breakdown before then, I'll be flying to Denver in exactly 2 weeks for Lindsey (my long ago travel nursing buddy) and Greg's wedding. 
Remember them? 
The two love birds have been at it for almost 6 years now..........hard to believe it's already been that long since we were living in California and took Lindsey skiing for the very first time, where she gave up, found herself at the lodge bar and met the man of her dreams. And to was all because we talked her into skiing down a blue a little too early in her skiing career. 
Things will probably get a little wacky.....because that's how we roll.
Leave it to me to let all this snowball on me 2 weeks before a trip! Yikes. Cross your fingers that I get out alive, that Patrick gets there in time, and we  don't end up completely broke or insane in the process! 
Who knows, if things go according to plan, we'll even get to see this crazy girl (Heather) and her lovely fiancé while we're there!
And even better, spend some time with Stu and Lorie! It's always a big reunion when we go to that other D-town we so know and love. 
Either way (smooth sailing or a bumpy ride), it will definitely be another adventure for the books!

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Adjusting to Parenting: The Struggle is Real

Sometimes crying over spilled milk is totally justifiable. I know, because I did it, and it felt completely and absolutely logical. 
Nothing about bringing Dillon into this world was easy, from conception to birth, so I didn't exactly expect it would magically become easy once he was here, but it's hard to imagine just how challenging the newborn period can be until you've experienced it. Everyone has their own set of obstacles during this magical but demanding month, and mine happens to be lactation.
The day we came home from the hospital, we started supplementing. I was only getting literal drops of milk from pumping with a hospital grade pump (which should empty 75% of a breasts' volume), and Dillon had started to lose so much weight that it became necessary. It's completely disheartening when you sacrifice even more sleep than normal, spending valuable time trying to make as much milk as possible for your baby, and only get enough to rub it on his gums with your finger.
We've come a long way since then. 
This is the part where I tell some things about myself that a lot of people may not know, but I feel like these things need to be said, because so many women out there feel helpless or alone when their bodies don't work like we think they should.
To be more specific, I have a ton of factors working against me when it comes to having the ability to make milk for Dillon. For one, issues with PCOS don't go away, ever. First I had to overcome it to get pregnant, now I'm having to overcome it to lactate, and for the rest of my life, I'll have to be careful, as to not increase my chances even more to develop Type 2 Diabetes. Elevated insulin levels in the body affect the hormones that produce milk, so I restarted taking Metformin to help fight against it. 
Second, I have a history of breast surgery. I wouldn't know it until a couple of years ago, but due to the previous mentioned syndrome, my breasts never really fully developed, starting in utero, so when I was a big girl, all grown up and able to pay for things myself, I had cosmetic surgery. I didn't want an augmentation to look like a porn star, or to have big hooters, or for people to even be able to tell that I had a "boob job"; I just wanted to feel like a normal girl. Patrick took the very best care of me during that time, and though I already knew he was the one, the way he so lovingly supported me and helped me during recovery just permeated his irreplaceable reservation in my heart. 
Third, PIH (pregnancy induced hypertension) and the treatment that goes along with it, played a big role in hindering my supply. Any time the body's blood pressure is elevated, blood flow is restricted to the breast, decreasing their ability to function as adequately. For most women PIH doesn't just go away as soon as the baby is born, and I was no exception. My blood pressure, never high a day in my life until 2 weeks ago, was still intermittently elevated upon discharge and would be expected to behave that way for at least a couple of weeks, which brings me to my next point.
Our bodies give us 2 weeks to establish a milk supply. That's not long when you're recovering from a major life changing surgery and have several obstacles to tackle, like engorgement so severe your baby can no longer latch on (yes, add it to the list). Luckily I work with some amazing people, and happen to have a lactation specialist up my sleeve who took us in for a consultation and set us up with SNS feedings. She also recommended me taking an extremely expensive medication to help increase my milk supply, since the herbal supplement fenugreek is contraindicated in my situation (it can alter the insulin levels in your body). 
Our new routine has been breast feeding while using SNS (supplemental nursing system),  then pumping (this has cut down our "feeding routine" from about 1-1.5 hours to 40-60 minutes), and me taking meformin and domperione, which has doubled my milk supply. And even though it's still not near enough to keep up with this hungry boy of ours with beautiful squishy cheeks and folded lips, anything and everything I can give him to help him be as healthy as possible is what I will do, no matter how much energy or money it takes to do so.
Therefore, you can totally understand my inner agony when I spilled half of the milk I worked so hard for, and watched as it spread down the couch arm to a small devastating puddle on the living room floor.
All I can do is to keep on trucking forward, and be thankful that I'm at least able to make half the amount of milk my baby needs. And for those of you out there struggling with something that being a new parent brings to the table, fret not about being alone. We all struggle with something. Utilize your support system, vent to peers, know that you're doing an amazing job, and really, sometimes it's okay to cry over spilled milk.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Being a Mommy Week 2: The Good, The Bad, and The Embarrassing

Good news, we slept in our bed for the very first time this week (we had good times on the couch, but it was really taking a toll on our backs)!! It only took buying a mini frig (not a mini frog, like autocorrect wanted me to say) and an extra bottle warmer to get us up there (since neither one of us wanted to be the one to go up and down the stairs a million times a night or have to bring it all up and down the stairs each night/day).
Bad news, Patrick had to go back to work. I loved having him home to help balance out some of the chores, and just thoroughly enjoy his presence. Even with him being home, we still couldn't get regular things done, but my Mom came to the rescue and cooked us some meals, cleaned out the frig, vacuumed the floor, did some laundry, and rocked her sweet grand baby in her spare time. She even sewed a couple of things for us (I won't hold it against her that she doesn't know how to sew velcro....... *wink, wink*), and on the day she was leaving, the Wink's swung by for some snuggles.
The best news is, Dillon is growing like a weed and has a perfect bill of health. I thought Dr. K's eyes were going to pop out of his head when he saw that Dillon's weight went from 8 lb 1 oz to 9 lb 8 oz in only one week's time! He couldn't believe how much he'd changed in a week (which is exactly what I think when I stare at him everyday), and gave us the okay to let him sleep as long as he wants between feeds (if only he WOULD......)
Uncle Dusty is still terrified to hold Dillon, so he gave the puppies some extra loving' instead. 
After our Pedi appointment, of course this boy thought he was starving (like usual) and wanted to cry on the ride home instead of sleep (opposite of usual)......that is until I turned the radio onto 102.1 The Edge and started jamming to The Foo Fighters, Lincoln Park, and Green Day. He got completely quite. Apparently he has good taste in music, like his Mom and Dad.
He's a all or nothing kind of boy......
Not only does our little human have a good bill of health and excellent taste in music, but as a cherry topper, I finally got my own health back as well. Already down 30 pounds from the week before Dillon was born (just shows how much water weight I was carrying) and blood pressure back to 100/60, I'm starting to feel like a new woman (now just to address that sleeping thing.......)!
A random thought......Will I ever be able to keep this boy in a cute outfit without him peeing or pooping on it less than 1 hour after wearing it?????
I can never procrastinate our picture taking, since an outfit's longevity is always a gamble!
And on an off note, I have something embarrassing to admit. Patrick and I were sitting at a stop light when some dousche on a sporty motorcycle was revving up his engine for no good reason, before going mediocrely slow across the intersection. I suggested if he was really trying to look cool, he should have "popped a Willy" all the way across the intersection, and then after a couple minutes of contemplation, asked Patrick why they called it that. "Do you think some guy named Willy invented the stunt?"
"What do you mean? It is what it sounds like, a wheelie."
"Oh! I thought it was Willy! Like, 'don't touch my Willie', or some guy's name."
"No you didn't."
"I swear."
"Well it's a good thing we got this cleared up before you said that in front of someone else."
I promise I never thought in a million years that it was a "wheelie". It just never occurred to me.
As the mother of a boy, I'm going to need to get keener on such subject matter. There, I publicly admitted I'm a little slow sometimes........and this time I can't blame it on the lack of sleep!

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