Nine Months In, Nine Months Out

Today Rhett turns nine months old. It's just crazy to think that he's (almost) been out of my belly as long as he was in it (technically he was 41 weeks in). I gotta say, it's much better having him out than in. At least most days it is.

And thanks to this most recent illness (food poisoning perhaps?), I am quite possibly right at my pre-pregnancy weight. That's been nine months on, nine months off. Sigh.

But He's Just So Cuddly

Remember when I wanted to know if it was wrong to love your kids more when they were sleeping?  How about this one: is it wrong to not hate it when they're sick (just slight-fever-sick, not serious-trouble-sick) because suddenly they want to cuddle with you?  I hope not.

The First Thanksgiving

I'm pretty sure most people can guess the things for which Chuck and I are grateful this year.

Topping the list is our healthy baby. It amazes me that I can still think about how much I love him and start to cry. I wonder how old he gets before this goes away. (A corollary to this is health insurance. Even though I complained a lot about my Kaiser doctors, fact is, Rhett cost us $5.)

Next on the list is our home. We love our house and it is perfect for us. I feel so happy to not regret this decision.

Then probably come the recession-proof, government jobs that we both have that enable us to own the home.

And for me? I'm grateful for the freezer. It might be my favorite thing in the house.

Bruno? Having TWO eyes.

Chuck? He's also grateful for Bruno's two eyes.

Everett? He's grateful for his girlfriend, the TV.
Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.

P.S. About the top picture: you might wonder what is all over Rhett's sweater: blood. He was playing with an empty soda can and must have cut his tongue. We were on a walk with him in the carrier and didn't even notice. It was pretty sad. Way to make memories, baby.

P.P.S. That's my friend Camie in that first picture.  We sure like her.

Laughing Rhettilda

Ever since swim class where Rhett was taught the Hokey Pokey, he can't stop laughing about it.

Baby's First Halloween

And I'm sure he'll remember it. We reversed trick-or-treated this year. We visited family and brought them treats (these to be specific). Although, he did get a new Elmo doll and a book at one stop. Now there's a treat I can support. Maybe next year I'll dress him as Mr. Mullet. That's an interesting costume that no one would understand.

I Can't Not Post this Picture

This little boy turns seven months old today. The time is finally starting to go by quickly, as compared the sloooooooooow days of the newly-born. He's getting better at crawling, although he still uses the skill only sparingly. He loves all of his vegetables, but hates apple juice. He's still sleeping like a champ. And he can go from being prone to sitting up on his own. It's all very exciting.
(And yes, I look forward to the time when I can just count his age in years. Not a fan of this "six-and-three-fourths-month" thing.)

We Did Stuff!

Soon after Chuck and I got married, I realized that I wanted to be a couple that did stuff. I didn't want to come home from work and just watch TV, well, at least not every day. So we didn't. We joined a local running club. We went on overnight trips. We went on day trips. We got a dog and explored with him. I feel like we got pretty good at doing "stuff." And then we had a baby. Sigh.

I knew that this would be one of those hard-things-about-parenthood for me. I loved (and still love) my freedom. I even loved my freedom with Chuck. But we don't enjoy that same freedom with Rhett. It's just not that easy to go to the Baltimore Craft Show with a six-month-old. So for the past six months I've been too afraid to try things. And this was going to have to change as doing nothing was certainly the easy thing, but it was not the make-erin-happy thing.

So we decided that this weekend we'd do something that we'd done in the B.E. (Before Everett) days: go camping. We didn't do it the same way we used to, but we did it. We had pigs in a blanket (modeled after these), tin-foil potatoes, and Smores, (the latter two only because a couple from our ward ended up joining us; they also spoiled us with breakfast from Great Harvest) instead of the B.E. gourmet camp dinners. We hiked for 45 minutes instead of the B.E. hikes of eight hours.

But I knew that wasn't the point. The point was to build my confidence in being able to get out and do things...with Rhett in tow. Maybe next time we'll try a campsite that's farther than 30 minutes north of our house.

I Don't Know If I Should be Excited or Start Crying Now

If This Doesn't Make You Laugh...

...then maybe the thought of me running 19 miles (over three runs, not all at once) on Saturday will. But please don't. It's really happening and I'm scared to death. And if neither the fear nor the race kills me, I'll report on Sunday how it went.

Where Was Sarah 31 Years Ago?

Anyone else seen this? I won't wax politically, but the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator has changed my life. Who knew (other than Gov. Palin) that instead of Rhett, he should have been named Barrel McRaven?! Instead of being married to a Charles, I should be married to Copper Catfish? (Copper sounds so much sexier, doncha think?) And me, I have spent the last 31 years mis-named as well. I should have been Fork Decoy! It's like I don't even know who I am any more.

P.S. I really really want to make this. Although, I think I'd try it with a lemon cake and lemon yogurt (thanks to a genius idea from my sis-in-law). Does anyone want to come over and eat it with me?

P.P.S. Is it wrong to love your kids more when they're sleeping?

P.P.P.S. Is the third postscript "P.P.P.S." or "P.P.S.S." or something else entirely? Discuss.

Too Bad I Don't Know How to Can

Do you ever have one of those days that you wish you could replay over and over? Not in a "Groundhog Day"-Bill-Murray sort of way, but rather because it was perfect? I had that day yesterday. I wish I could bottle the day and reopen it again and again and again.

Although it didn't start ideally (Rhett woke us up at about 4:45 a.m. and then permanently at 5:15 a.m.), I got up and checked email, began reading the newspaper, and started a load of laundry all before Rhett was brought out of his room at 6:00 a.m. Achieving this meant that his morning wake time could be spent one-on-one with him. We went outside and felt the beauty of the cool, crisp air. We played inside and I helped him get oh-so-closer to crawling (even though I have to ask myself why?!). We even took fun pictures to send to Chuck at work. When it was nap time, he went down beautifully.

During his nap time, I was able to get more laundry done and myself taken care of. I also opened the house as the weather was simply awesome. I could feel the fresh air in my toes. As soon as Rhett awoke, I strapped him into the car seat to run errands. When we got back, we played a little more and then he went down (beautifully again) for nap two. He stayed asleep long enough for me to get the house back to order (the shopping trip required much to be done), and for me to start working on a sewing project (pictures to follow in a couple of days). When he woke up, we took Bruno to the park near our house and enjoyed the beautiful weather again.

Soon Chuck came home and I went to the gym. My run was good and I came home to an almost-done dinner, complete with pasta, this totally yummy alfredo sauce, and leftover bread. We followed dinner by our usual walk with baby and dog and on return, it was time to put Rhett to bed. (We are LOVING this new early bedtime!)

Once the baby was in bed, we straightened the house, got things ready for today, and then retired to the basement to unwind. I continued to work on some sewing while Chuck comforted our healing dog. Physical dessert was a skinny cow; mental dessert was watching Project Runway.

I just loved everything about this day. I loved feeling productive. I loved spending time with my little boy. I loved being outside with temperatures in the 70s and low humidity. I loved running errands and shopping at Target. I loved sewing. I loved Project Runway. I loved being a mom (this might be the first time I've ever said this.) And I loved the quiet time with Chuck at the end of it all. Again again please!

Like Mother Like Son?

Only Because He Can

Given how mad he gets once he's on his stomach, we think he continues to roll over just because he can. And oh yes, he'll do this over and over and over and...

Another Peek into Rhett's Room

Apparently the baby's room is the only one I care about decorating. It's really far more fun than any other room. Last weekend we put up the vinyl decals (click the picture to see them larger) and Wednesday night we got these pictures hung. The only remaining thing is figuring out how to treat the windows!

Oh yes, that new picture of Bruno? Apparently he likes to eat paint. Silly puggie.

815 Emails Later...

I was actually surprised that my inbox didn't have more. I mean, I was out for almost four months. I guess I'm just not that popular.

However, I don't feel nearly as bad as I thought I would (or should) feel. I guess that's just confirmation that I'm doing this for the right reasons. (That shouldn't imply that those who do feel bad are doing it for the wrong reasons. Maybe there just is something wrong with me.) But because of these two ten-hour days we have a house. We can continue to save for Rhett's college education. We can save for retirement. None of these things was possible on Chuck's salary alone.

Don't let me fool you however. I looked at this picture about 30 times today. Wouldn't you?

Rhett's Milestones

This video was taken at 10 weeks old (last Friday). And although he didn't start talking when he was two days old, we still think he's pretty advanced. We're quite proud of our little man; probably a bit too proud, to be honest. We do realize, however, that this could be all the action we see for the next six months.

Further Expounding on Motherhood

(Please excuse the poor writing as of late. I used to compose posts as I fell asleep; but as of, well, the last nine weeks or so, I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. Therefore, the quality of the writing has shown why I chose a mathematical career instead of one that is writing-based.)

I've been thinking about the recent post in which I admit that I don't yet love being a mom, and may in fact never love it. But here's the big realization: I think that this is might be okay. Please remember: my saying that I don't love being a mom in no way implies that I do not love Rhett. I love him more than I could have imagined. Sometimes it still makes me cry how much I do actually love him.

I guess it's like serving a mission. I can't expect that everyone who goes on a mission will love every second of the door knocking, incessant walking, language learning, and all the other not-so-fun-stuff. Two of my best girlfriends (ahem, yes g and r, I'm talking about you girls), will definitely attest to this. However, as long as they did the best they could, what more could you, or anyone, ask?

That's how I'm approaching this motherhood thing. I love my baby. I want nothing more than his total happiness, mingled with good health. And I'll do everything in my power to make those things come true for him, even if I don't love every second of it. Maybe this smile means I'm doing okay so far.

Or maybe it just means Chuck's tongue is really that funny.

God Speed, Young Brother

After passing the six-week mark, I finally felt comfortable taking Everett into public. The first public place (notwithstanding the accidental stop at a KFC) was dinner with my parents and Chuck's parents. The baby did great (read: he slept the entire time). In fact, he did so well, we took him out again Monday night. Another success.

But the biggest outing success for little Rhett was his blessing on Sunday. I was a little nervous as he was awake going into sacrament meeting. We stuck a pacifier in his mug and hoped for the best. Not only did he not make a single noise, but he did it sans pacifier: Chuck made an amazing catch mid-blessing. We left church after sacrament meeting and had a barbecue at Chuck's parents' house. The weather cooperated and we had a great day. Everyone was so eager to hold the baby, I almost forgot I had one!


P.S. About the post title: a man in our ward recorded Rhett's blessing for us. At the end of it, he included a little note to Rhett. He ended it with, "God speed, young brother" and it's made me smile ever since.

P.P.S. Life has been wicked crazy around here lately. Please excuse me as I don't blog.

Another Adjustment

During my engagement to Chuck, I was mostly excited at the thought of getting married. But part of me was scared to death because I was afraid of becoming a "Mrs." I thought that becoming a Mrs. would mean losing all that was cool about being a Miss. And I was one cool Miss. I loved everything about my life and who I was at that point. I answered to no one. I feared that getting married would change that. However, after being married for a few months, I realized that being married wasn't as bad as I feared. In fact, three and a half years into it, surprise...I actually like it!

But now going through the same thing again. Not only am I a "Mrs.," but now I'm a MOM. I'm afraid that this means that I'm destined for appliqued sweatshirts. Sigh. I'm just not sure that I really want this title. Don't get me wrong, I simply adore Rhett. I do. But this Mom business...that's another story.

I feel like I'm not interesting any more. It used to be that I felt like I was a pretty cool person to know. On our nightly walks with Bruno, it was easy to have good, lively conversations with Chuck about my commute, work, something I read in the Post. But now? I'm one of those women who only talks about her baby. I swore I would never become one of these women.

Also, I miss adult interaction. When my sister called the other day, we talked for 73 minutes. And when Rach came to visit me this past weekend, I honestly thought I was going to give myself a sore throat because I talked so much. It was soooo nice to have someone around that didn't require a voice that's three octaves higher than my normal one. I miss other adults so much that I actually want to ride the Metro again. I know. SHOCKER.

The Family: A Proclamation to the World says that, "Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children." But what if I don't want to be? I guess I always figured that I'd love being a Mom, but really, why should that be the way of it? Just because it's a commandment, doesn't mean I'll love heeding it (as evidenced by so many other commandments). But how to handle it then? Just suck it up and hope you grow it love it, like I have grown to love being a wife? The worst part about it is feeling like something is wrong with me because I don't love being a Mom. The second worst part is fearing that I never will.

Thankfully, I know two people who still like me...

About a Girl

(The first in a series about the adjustments this first-time mom is having to make to her life. Enjoy.)

In the movie About a Boy, Hugh Grant's character, Will, divides his time into "units," where each unit is equal to 30 minutes. Exercising (i.e., playing pool) = 1 unit. Having his hair carefully discheveled = 2 units. My life has similarly been divided into units, albeit ones that don't include having my hair carefully discheveled.

My units are longer: 3 hours. But each one is pretty much the same. They all start with feeding Rhett. He's breastfed for about 30 minutes and then we supplement with formula; this takes another 15-30 minutes. After this, Rhett has some "awake time." Given his age (three weeks today), I'm not sure how to best fill this time (any thoughts?), but it's usually about 45 minutes. The remaining time, while Rhett naps (about 60-90 minutes), in this unit is spent either sleeping, reading the paper, showering, completing chores, internetting, walking, or eating. Once the unit is done, it's repeated...again and again and again.

This has been really hard for me. I am a girl who loves to cross things off lists. But my lists used to be more ambitious: finish that hat (or any random project), cook something new, go grocery shopping, etc. But now I have to be content knowing I found time to vacuum my small apartment.

I guess it all comes down to "lowering my expectations." Yes, I said lowering. This is a great lesson that I'm trying to learn from my sister. On one camping trip with her cute family, my sis, an avid camper and hiker, had visions of hiking much and doing fun things. However, her little boys had different plans. She then decided that she had to lower her expectations or else she was going to be the one disappointed. That she was able to pack up a family's worth of stuff and make it to a campground should be the goal, not completing that four-hour hike.

So I'm trying to incorporate this into my new life. I should feel accomplished when I not only found time to shower, but shaved the legs as well! Speaking of, I better go...

(I couldn't resist...)