Another Milestone

Tonight we're trying an experiment. Our baby boy will be two months old this weekend. Up until now, he's been sleeping in a cradle at our bedside. For the first time tonight we laid him to sleep in the crib in his sister's room.

Our (almost) two-year-old was overjoyed to share the room with her baby brother. Her response was totally adorable. Ben and I heard her singing and talking through the baby monitor for more than an hour after bedtime. She sang endless repetitions of "Twinkle, Twinkle" and "ABCDs" to her little brother. He blissfully slept through it all.

I'm not sure how our experiment will turn out in the wee hours of the morning. Babe is often up twice in the night. However, last night was his best sleep yet --- eight and a half straight hours! All of our children have moved into their own rooms at about this stage, so I am praying Baby sleeps well tonight. At the rate he's growing, I don't think our big boy will fit in the cradle much longer anyway...

Whoa Baby!

Yesterday our baby boy had his last visit to the midwives' office. His official weight was 14lbs 2oz! He gained more than five and a half pounds within seven weeks!

Birth Pictures

This week my sister blessed me with a CD of our new baby's birth pictures. I can hardly believe our babe is already six weeks old and is officially past the newborn stage. (Where did the time go? Can it be my sweet baby is already growing up?)

Feel free to read Baby's birth story here. He was born at home on the morning of April 15th. We had a wonderful water birth, surrounded by loving family members. It was a beautiful experience.

Baby was born in the "fishy pool" in our kitchen. Our midwives, Kim and Cassie, are in the background of this photo.

Daddy and Mommy admire their new baby.

Daddy holds his new son for the first time. Baby was very cheesy!

The big brothers play on the clean and empty fishy pool.

Baby, Daddy and a big brother.

Uncle Patrick holds his littlest nephew.

Auntie Lori and the new baby.

Our precious little boy.

Grammy Marilou snuggles her new grandson.

Out There

I'm feeling pretty self-conscious these days. I am a reserved, introverted type of person. Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to talk, but I often have trouble making casual conversation. (Especially when I'm feeling tired).

Unfortunately, fatigue is a fairly constant companion these days. I'm certainly less exhausted that I was a few short weeks ago, but a month of disjointed nights are catching up with me. I feel my social skills have taken a real beating lately.

I like keeping a blog because I communicate more fluidly through text than speech.  I love the written word (and often wish my mouth came with a backspace key). When I'm too tired to talk, I usually have no problem expressing myself in writing. I've always enjoyed updating my blog.

Until now, that is.

I'll be very candid --- I'm feeling self conscious because many people have started reading this blog. When I started out a couple years ago my blog was a private passion. My family and a few friends knew it existed but for the most part I could be anonymous. Not many people from my "real life" read The Ink Spot.

Now it seems like everybody and their dogs read The Blog. (I know this really isn't true.) In a way I'm flattered. At the same time, I'm terrified.

My goodness, all my friends know the intimate details of my life. (I also know this really isn't true.) They even know what I'm cooking for supper each night! What a heavy burden of responsibility! I feel like I must deliver on what I write. Blogging is a great tool for accountability and self-examination, but I'm not sure you all need to know every time I serve my family pork chops.

This is quite a scary predicament for an introvert. I've got serious case of stage fright going on. However, I don't plan to give up blogging just yet. It wouldn't be right for me to run away in fear. 

That said, I need to make the following disclaimer:

I'm human. 

I'm FAR from perfect.  

My kids drive me nuts too often.

I can be anal and controlling.

I don't do well on little sleep.

I get angry.

I yell.

I gripe and complain.

I judge unfairly.

I'm horribly prideful.

I rarely follow my meal plans to the letter.

I'm a work in progress.  Thank God, I'm His work.

   

Super-Duper Thankful!

Our littlest family member celebrated his one-month birthday yesterday and gave his Mommy a great gift. Our babe slept seven straight hours last night! A new record!

Our little guy hadn't been sleeping very well since the weekend. I enjoyed some spicy East Indian food for supper on Mother's Day. The curry agreed with my digestive system just fine. When it landed Baby's tummy a few hours later, it went over not so well.

Lesson learned. I'll lay off the curry for the next few weeks. (And for the particularly observant, yes, I did modify this week's menu plan.)

At any rate, our baby's bad night on Sunday resulted in a series of less-than-stellar sleeps. He seemingly forgot how to sleep in stretches longer than three hours.

Until last night!

Here's to hoping the trend continues this evening...

Is This Meant To Be A Compliment?

We stood outside the classroom door, waiting for the school day to begin. My five-year-old son gently patted my belly and casually remarked, "Hey Mommy, your tummy is all soft and squishy now." He paused and then continued, "You know, now that you don't have a baby in it."

My son began tugging at my shirt, and before I could stop him, exposed my soft tummy to the other moms gathered in the hallway. "And look Mom!" he exclaimed, "Your belly button's not an outie any more!"

Balding

I enjoy being pregnant. I've been blessed with three normal, easy pregnancies. (I also have three beautiful kids as a result!) One great benefit of being pregnant is that my hair grows strong, healthy and thick. I shed far less hair than usual.

Here's the problem ... a few months after Baby is born my long, lustrous hair starts to fall out. Heaps of it. Great big gobs of it. I find long, brown hairs everywhere --- clinging to my sweater, tangled in my zipper, wrapped around my baby's fingers, on my pillow, in my cereal. I don't even want to talk about my disgusting, hairy bathroom.

Last night my sister helped me give Baby Girl a bath. I stepped into the bathroom and reached for the faucet, intending to start the water. A scummy, cold puddle greeted me from the bottom of the tub. It was the water from my morning shower. The drain was completely clogged.

Ben pried the drain cover off with a screw driver, and I boldly reached inside the hole. My fingers met a slimy, tangled mass. Hair. Long, brown, soapy hair. I pulled more hair out from my drain than Ben has on his entire head. Small wonder the drain was clogged!

This morning I diligently cleaned the upper level of our home. As I vacuumed the hallway carpet I caught a whiff of something burning. It smelled hot, like electrical fire. I vacuumed for a few more seconds before I realized my vacuum was overheating.

I quickly flicked the off switch and pulled the plug from the wall. I flipped the vacuum over and examined its rotating brushes. I wondered if something had become tangled in the mechanism. I was shocked to discover hair --- great, long gobs of the stuff --- tangled all through the vacuum brushes.

At the rate my hair is falling out, I may be bald within a couple more weeks! I don't know if I can handle many more disgusting hair encounters. Oh well ... at least if I am balding, my husband will have some company.

Frame of Reference

I went into my doctor's office today to receive some blood test results. Nothing serious, not to worry. My iron levels have just gotten low and I'm anemic. My doctor prescribed some iron supplements, and in a couple weeks I should be doing great.

Here's the interesting thing --- according to my doctor and to the numbers on the blood test I should be feeling exhausted. But I don't. I'm tired at times, yes. Now that I'm mostly over the horrible cold, though, I feel pretty normal.

So I'm left wondering .... am exhausted but I just don't know it? Am I in denial?

Over the past few months I have dramatically altered my daily routines and activities to cope with the challenges of late pregnancy and life with a newborn. Most days I stay close to home with the children. I take a nap every afternoon. When I'm feeling tired I spend the morning on the couch, snuggling Baby and reading books to the boys. Every day is pretty much like the next in the Inkster home.

So, am I just doing a great job of conserving my energy? Or are my daily tasks and routines so entrenched that I don't notice when I am tired? Have I become used to running on half a tank, and as a result my definition of "exhausted" has changed?

I guess I'll find out once the iron pills start doing their job. Who knows, maybe I'll gain boundless new stores of energy --- the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound and all that. Hey, I'd settle for the ability to chase after an active toddler.

Recovery

I am slowly starting to feel like my old self. My energy and strength are returning after the birth. This week was rough, as I am still fighting a stubborn cold, but overall I am feeling healthy and strong.

How do I know that I'm getting back to normal? I am able to keep up with most of my housework now. The thought of grocery shopping doesn't leave me breathless. I am again interested in cooking for my family. Most nights I can keep my eyes open past 9:30pm. And I'm looking forward to going back to the gym in a couple of weeks.

I feel like I am slowly coming out of the "newborn fog" season.

My little girl is a wonderful baby --- easy going and mostly content. She sleeps for four or five hours in a row now, and most nights only wakes twice to feed. She also has a long afternoon sleep that coincides with the boys' naps. Hallelujah! I have not been forced to relinquish my own afternoon nap yet.

Being a mother of three small children is tiring, but not as exhausting as I had feared. I am looking forward to feeling 100% again --- to getting into the "new normal" routine for our family.

Difficult Days

This afternoon I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I groaned. My brain felt like it was draining through my sinuses, I coughed and nearly hacked up a lung, and my throat was on fire. My newborn baby daughter lay beside me, her own nose snuffly and congested.

What a rotten day.

A splitting headache prevented me from taking a nap, so I rolled over and retrieved my Bible from the nightstand. I read the following verse:

So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life --- your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life --- and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him ...
Romans 12:1 (The Message paraphrase)

I like reading The Message because it makes the Bible easier to put into context. This verse stayed with me as I shuffled through the rest of my day --- wiping runny noses, fixing snacks, changing diapers, picking up toys. When all I wanted to do was give up and crawl back into bed, I placed one foot in front of the other and offered my day as a sacrifice to God.

My life as a stay-at-home mom is not all daisies and roses, play dates and trips to the park. Some days are very difficult. But I choose to embrace my three young blessings, my caring husband, and my life at home. I place it before God as an offering --- a service of love.

Revenge of the Dust Bunnies

You know it is time to clean the house when:

1. The toilet has strange black spots growing in the bowl.

2. There are clearly discernible grungy footprints on the floor of the shower.

3. Your toddler finds a large dust bunny on the kitchen floor, mistakes it for a dandelion, and attempts to blow the fluff off of it.

(I cleaned the whole house today. I am exhausted, but victorious.)

"I know where the dust bunnies live ... "

The state of my house is starting to bother me. Normally, I am a very picky housekeeper. I like my surroundings to be clean and orderly. At times I have been accused of being a "clean freak" (by certain husbands who shall remain nameless...).

My usual routine, for times when I don't have a newborn baby, is to do "zone cleaning". I generally don't clean the entire house in one day. Instead, I'll clean all the bedrooms one day, do the bathrooms the next, dust and vacuum the main level on a third day, and so on. I find this method breaks my housekeeping chores into manageable chunks, and the entire house stays reasonably tidy throughout the week.

However, my current housekeeping strategy could best be labelled "survival mode". Certain chores I try to do every day --- washing the dishes, picking up toys, laundry. Everything else has sort of fallen by the wayside.

Tomorrow I am hoping to take action. The dust on my poor piano is so thick my boys have been amusing themselves by "finger painting" with it. I am hoping to clean my entire main level in the morning --- dust, vacuum, clean the powder room, and scrub the stone floor.

Am I being too ambitious? Probably. But I can always pray that Baby takes an extra long nap tomorrow!

A Shopping Adventure

I was feeling brave this morning.

I loaded our kiddies into the minivan and set off on a landmark expedition --- my first solo grocery shopping trip with three children under the age of four.

I had it all planned: Categorically organized shopping list. Check. Re-usable shopping bins. Check. Purse and fully-stocked diaper bag. Check. Two little boys in the cart and baby in the bjorn carrier. All present and accounted for.

The boys behaved. Baby slept peacefully in her carrier. I managed to find everything on my list. A compassionate stranger even helped me load my groceries at the check-out.

A successful shopping expedition!

Well ... almost.

I hadn't counted on the gigantic SUV parked mere inches from the passenger side of my van.

Hmmmmm.

I am no longer sporting an enormous belly, but I'm not quite to the point of squeezing through tiny spaces yet.

All I can say is --- thank God for dual sliding doors.

Lunch Date

Isn't it funny how your perspective changes?

When we had our first child it was a major production to get Mom, Dad and Baby out and about. We lugged around a huge diaper bag, filled with every conceivable item we could possibly require. Baby had to be diapered, dressed, swaddled, bundled and buckled snugly into his car seat. Then we had to figure out how, exactly, that car seat strapped into our vehicle. We also had gear --- fancy stroller, baby bjorn carrier, the backpack.

By the time we finally got everything and everyone ready to leave, we were too tired to go out for very long.

...................

This morning the boys went to the zoo with Grandma and Grandpa. Ben, our sweet baby girl and I were left at home.

"Hey!" I said, "It's just the three of us. Let's go out for lunch, or something. It seems like forever since we went on a date."

Within ten minutes we were comfortably seated in a booth at a restaurant. Baby slept in her car seat through almost the entire meal. Ben and I remarked on how relaxing it was to go out with "just the three of us".

Times do change.

Oh ... and I forgot the diaper bag at home.

Beautiful

I think pregnant women are gorgeous. I love the curves of the pregnant body --- round hips, ripe belly, full breasts. Pregnancy is a beautiful season in almost any woman's life.

Two weeks ago, like a butterfly leaving a cocoon, I shed my pregnant body to take on a new form. I am always amazed at how rapidly a pregnant body reverts back to its non-pregnant state. In a very short time the uterus shrinks from the size of a watermelon to that of a pear. Organs displaced by the uterus migrate back to their original homes. Breasts begin producing copious volumes of nourishing milk.

The pregnant female form is often celebrated (or at least admired) in our culture. However, the post-partum body is considerably less desirable. Women who have recently given birth may feel fat and bemoan their "flabby abs". They may be self-conscious of their fuller figures --- wide hips and large breasts. Popular magazines exhort women to "get back in shape" as quickly as possible after giving birth.

Over the past week I've caught myself dreaming about "when I get my skinny body back". I've been sensitive about the fact that I am twenty pounds heavier than normal. I have a closet full of clothes that don't fit, and sometimes I feel sloppy and out of shape.

When I start to feel this way I stop and I take my discouraging thoughts captive.

I remember that God designed my body to be beautiful, whatever season of life I am in. I thank God that, in His wisdom, He gave me wide hips for birthing babies. I thank Him that I have good food to eat --- nourishment that pads my body and provides fuel for making my baby's milk. I even thank Him for my soft tummy.

This time with my newborn baby is precious. These weeks are so short. It will be time to hit the gym soon enough. For now I am concentrating on loving my little girl, resting from my pregnancy and birth, and making lots of quality milk.

The sit-ups can wait for another day. God created this body, and it is lovely.

Baby Brain

I had my first postpartum "baby brain" episode this evening.

I decided to make rice for supper. I carefully measured the rice and water into a pot, placed the pot on the stove, and turned on the burner. I then retrieved a tub of margarine from the fridge and scooped out a spoonful to add to the pot of rice.

I smelled burning plastic.

I looked down at the stove and realized that I had turned on the wrong burner. The bottom of my tub of margarine was rapidly melting, while my pot of rice stubbornly refused to boil.

Thank God I didn't start a fire.

Now my plastic container is "doubled up" inside another plastic tub in the fridge to prevent greasy margarine from oozing out the holes in its bottom.

And I have no idea how to remove the white plastic now fused to my stove element.

It's a problem for another day when my brain is less befuddled.

The (.) (.) Blog

Last night after supper the chaos in our household was minimal. I thought I would take advantage of the (relatively) peaceful moment to make a few phone calls.

I dialed the number of our doctor's office, intending to make an appointment for our new baby's first check up. A friendly receptionist answered the phone.

I chatted for a few minutes and arranged an appointment time. The baby sat contentedly in her swing, the toddler played with his mini cars on the carpet, and my preschooler fiddled with a chunk of silly putty.

Just as I was finishing up my phone conversation, my preschooler ran up and proudly showed me his silly putty creation.

"Look Mommy!" he loudly exclaimed, "I made a nipple!"

Sure enough, there it was. An accurate nipple facsimile captured in gray silly putty. Who knew my young man had such artistic talent?

"Ummm," I stammered into the phone, "I sure hope you didn't hear that..."

"Hear what?" the receptionist replied with a smile in her voice.

............

This evening we bathed the boys, put on their pajamas, and all sprawled across our bed to read a Bible story. The baby sat in her bouncy chair at our feet.

As the story ended our baby girl began to fuss. My three-year-old, ever the helpful big brother, leaped to his feet.

As my husband and I quietly observed from across the room, my preschooler slowly lifted his pajama shirt and exposed his chest. He leaned in close to his newborn sister.

"Shhhh, don't cry," he cooed, "Look, here's my nipple. You love nipples!"

My husband and I nearly lost it trying to contain our silent laughter.

............

With a brand new baby in our house, I wonder what my impressionable, young preschooler has seen a lot of lately :-)

Day Four

Our precious little girl is four days old today. The past week has been a marathon. The days have felt loooooong.

My baby girl seems to have a calm and peaceful temperament. She rarely cries, and is undisturbed by her rambunctious brothers' antics. For the first three days she nursed almost continually. My milk fully came in yesterday, and since then her feedings have gradually spaced out.

Thankfully, my baby does not have her days and nights mixed up. She has slept every night so far (but not for long stretches between feedings!). Last night she had a sleepy period from 9pm to 9am, interspersed with about eight feedings. I went to sleep at 9pm too. This morning was the first time I actually felt rested. I was even able to nap for another hour this afternoon.

My boys are adapting well. They have been at one or the other grandmas' house every morning this week. We are starting to see a few signs of fatigue in them both --- more tantrums, sleep disturbances, disobedience --- but overall they have been very good boys. They love their baby sister. They gently pat her velvety head and give her slobbery little boy kisses on the cheek.

This morning we took Baby on her first car ride to my parents' house to pick up the boys. I think she liked her car seat --- she slept in it for over two hours! Tomorrow we will take her on her first "real" outing to church. Isn't it appropriate that our baby's "public debut" will be on Father's Day?