Bugdate

I successfully have blogged what, once? twice? in the past month. Summer is here, which means that my hubby is off doing field work off and on. That leave me lots of one-on-one Bug time, but also less "sit on my butt and blog time."

Bug is doing awesome. He is up to 5 teeth and his hair is in his face. He is a solid walker now, and can run (and it's adorable, even if it isn't steady.) He loves to do everything that mommy and daddy do, even if that leads to some frustration on his part. It truly amazes me at what he watches us do, and he mimics it perfectly. Example from this last weekend. Friends from Pennsylvania came to stay in the Moosequito Inn and we took them gold panning. Bug spent most of the time playing in the creek while we panned for gold (daddy and I took turns watching him.) At one point we put down our pans and sat on the edge of the stream. Bug walked over, grabbed a pan, threw a scoop of dirt from the bucket into it and started to pan. He did it exactly like we did. It was adorable.

Friday, Bug started daycare. It was horrible and broke my heart to drop him off. He was there for three hours while I ran to the greenhouse to pick up my free green bean plants. He seemed "ok" when I showed up, but then just sat in my lap and cried. The poor guy has never been away from me. I'm glad I have the opportunity to have him transition slowly, I think....

Lots going on. We've had a TON of rain, and my garden is not happy. Hopefully it gets warmer and stays a little dryer for a bit. I'd like SOMETHING in my garden to grow.

Now, for some photos.

Bug Birthday Wrap-Up

Poor Bug. He was up this morning at 6:30 with his poppa, and I got to sleep in for a few extra minutes. He tottled (is that even a word? Is that even spelled right?) over to my bed and started babbling at me. I think that is by far my favorite way to wake up in the morning. He had woken up at 4 am and had a bit of a fever, but went right back to bed. His fever stayed around the rest of the day. Maybe to celebrate? Regardless, it put a damper on our birthday celebration that I had planned. He wouldn't let me near his mouth, and spend the whole day putting everything in his mouth, so I hope it is teeth. I'm sort of over him being sick.

He got some balloons from mommy and daddy and he loved them! His great aunt sent him some balloons in an envelope and he played with those too. I'm just waiting for him to pop one.

We watched Sesame Street to celebrate his birthday, and then he took an early nap. When he woke up we met daddy for lunch at the Cookie Jar and he LOVED that.

He decided to put his french fry into the water....and then eat it. 

After lunch we went to pick out his birthday present from mommy and daddy (okay..another present from mommy and daddy.) We bought a bike trailer! It's a Burley Bee and was 20% off. We really hope he likes it. There are some really nice trails around town and I would love to be able to take him out around our house. Nothing like spending a couple hundred dollars on something your child "might" like. He seemed interested in the store.

Hello Summer!

We got home and Facetimed (is that a verb? Can I use that as a verb?) with his Grammy, Mimi, and Grey-Grey (my nephew named my dad, and it's awesome!) He opened two gifts, but was not felling well and really just wanted to go to bed. We did sing to him and let him destroy a small cake. We had planned on him destroying a corn bread cake, but we just didn't have the time today to make it. Oh well. I am making him a cake for his birthday party on Saturday.

The poor Bug passed out by 5 and woke up at 10 for a bottle and some Tylenol. Teeth or otherwise, send good thoughts he feels better tomorrow! I'll post more photos as the week goes on as his birthday, has turned into a birth week.

Happy Birthday Bug! (Bug's Birth Story)

I didn't want kids. I taught kids all day, and I was worn out at the end of it. I loved them, and figured that was good enough. My husband and I had a big discussion about kids. I had decided that I didn't want them (for the moment...I always changed my mind.) It was Tuesday, July 24th, and I had gone on about never having, nor wanting kids. I wanted another horse. I wanted to do Dressage. Ponies are expensive. I couldn't have ponies AND a kid. That Thursday I was out riding my horse that I was leasing (and wanted to buy.) It was 82 by 10 am and I was sweating like a pig. I kept stopping her because I was pretty positive I was going to puke. My trainer informed me I was pregnant. I laughed so hard that I almost fell off the horse. 

I went home, and took a test, just because I had one and just because I wanted to prove her wrong. I peed, looked at it for 30 seconds and saw one line. I threw it in the garbage and thought nothing more of it. I went about my day, and came home late that night. I was getting ready for bed and remembered the test. "OH yeah! How funny, I took a pregnancy test." I looked at the stick and there were two lines. I thought it was really weird that a pregnancy test got two lines after sitting for 12 hours. I showed my husband and we discussed how that was really weird and how companies who make pregnancy tests should REALLY put a warning on the tests. 

NEVER.DAWNED.ON.US!! 

I told my trainer/friend the next day about my test, and she laughed at me and told me to buy another one. I did

and another.....

and another.....

7 pregnancy tests later, I started to believe her. 

My pregnancy was pretty easy as far as pregnancy horror stories go. I instantly became a blimp, was super nauseous for the first 17 weeks, but only in the AM. I was convinced that we were having a girl. We found out on November 29th that our little girl had a penis. The ultrasound tech had the personality of a sponge and said 3 words to us the entire time. He didn't even tell us it was a boy, he typed it on the screen. Regardless, we were thrilled. 

At every.single.appointment I asked my midwife (I saw several of them) if "everything looks good for a vaginal birth." I was terrified of an epidural and wanted to do it drug free. It was my question at the end of  each appointment when they asked, "Any Questions." I'm pretty sure they flagged my file as "Crazy Lady." I don't have any proof though...

I was due on April 8th, 2013. My parents flew in early, March 31st, so they wouldn't miss the birth of their second grandson. My due date came, and my due date went. My midwife wouldn't let me work into April (my job got physical.) I was bored, and hated that I was spending my maternity leave not being maternal. My parents rented a house 1/2 a mile from ours and came over in the afternoons. They kept their space in the morning, I think because I was turning into a bigger bitch than normal. 

My brother had planned on flying in April 16th to meet his nephew and my neighbor offered to pick him up.  I picked him up. Sigh.

At my appointment on the 17th, the midwife stripped my membranes and we picked an induction date. I was so sad. I had these grand ideas of my water breaking in the middle of the night and waking my husband to drive me to the hospital. We picked the 19th since my parents were leaving soon there after, and I was 41 weeks 5 days at that point. I'd be almost 42 weeks by the time the date came. I had a NST (Non-stress Test) done, and happily baby looked great. 

We had an appointment to go in and get induced at 7 pm on the 19th. On the 18th I realized that the likelihood that my child was going to be born on 4/20 was a real possibility. I had taught middle school enough to NOT want my child born on 4/20. OH the horrible jokes I heard!  I Googled the date to see what good I could find to make myself feel better...it was HITLERS birthday. HITLER!  I wasn't happy. I tried to change my induction date until Monday. My midwife laughed and said she'd see me on the 19th. Great. (They added "Extra Crazy" to my chart.)

We went in for the induction and planned on staying the night. The bed was SO uncomfortable that I just wanted to go home. They used a Folly bulb to induce me and then gave me the option to go home. Yes! Please. Anything. They told me to come back in the AM when I woke up. That I "might" feel some uncomfortable pressure, but that's it. I definitely felt pressure, but just wanted to go home. We got back home around 9, and left the bag in the car. I woke up at 11pm with horribly strong contractions (uncomfortable pressure my ass.) YES! This was it. I went to the rocking chair and started timing them. They were so strong that I was convinced that the baby would be born before the sun came up. I tried to let my husband sleep as long as possible. At 2am I couldn't take the pain anymore and just wanted to be somewhere that HAD drugs. I hadn't planned on using them, but just wanted them nearby. He timed my contractions and they were 2 minutes apart with a 30 second break. We ran to the car, but since the folly bulb was still in, we figured we were safe. 

(Hey, at least I got my middle of the night run to the hospital.)

When we got to the hospital we were ushered to a room. I was so convinced I was going to be having the baby soon. My midwife checked me, the folly popped right out and I was only at 4 centimeters. The contractions slowed down and I felt less like I was being punched in the uterus. The nurse and my midwife explained that I NEEDED to sleep, and although I wanted to do the whole thing drug free, I let them give me some morphine. Let's just say I can TOTALLY see how people get so hooked on the stuff. I was OUT OF IT. The nurse (I loved her, I wanted to bring her home) kept bringing me Rocket pop after Rocket pop. I finally fell asleep around 5am. My midwife said she'd have the next midwife on call check on me at 8am to see where I was and to start the next phase. I told her I did NOT want a 4/20 baby. She smiled and said that most woman don't ask for longer labor, and she was pretty positive that I'd be a mom by noon.

My husband and I fell asleep and woke up at 11 am! My nurse had told the next midwife to let me sleep. If I had a girl I'm pretty sure I would have named her Pamela, after this nurse. I loved her. My midwife came in and checked me and I was 2 cm. 2!! Somehow I went back 2 cm, all the contractions and everything. I was so pissed. She said that this could happen with mechanical inductions. I ordered another Rocket Pop and asked to make it a double. 

At noon the midwife inserted Cervidil. I didn't want to do pitocin unless I had to. My contractions started right back up with vengeance and the only thing that made them better was walking. We must have walked the halls for hours. The anesthesiologist was hanging at the nurses station around 8pm. Now that I look back I think he knew that I would cave eventually, and he was just waiting for me to throw in the towel. Sort of like the Orca whale that watches the struggling seal pup, and plays with it before it becomes a snack. 

My midwife checked me again at 9pm. Up to this point I was super modest, and let's just say it, embarrassed, about showing off my girly parts. I don't remember what point it was but I'm pretty sure I offered to have every medial intern in the hospital system come "take a look" I no longer cared. 

My contractions were horrible and I was exhausted and miserable. I was in and out of the whirlpool tube more times than I could count. At 9:30 pm I was saying the F word every other word. It was around the same time I learned that my midwife's daughter was in the classroom across the hall from mine. I KNEW she looked familiar! I felt bad, but the F word is a comforting word to me, sort of like those sweatpants you still have from college. 

At 11pm I asked for an epidural. I gave in, I didn't care anymore, I just wanted drugs. Lots and LOTS of drugs. My poor husband was amazing. I turned into a PSYCHO BITCH (turned, have been one, whatever...) at this point. I screamed at him to touch me, and screamed at him to not touch me. Poor guy. Poor Midwife (my midwife said I was a laboring woman and it was normal....I was a bitch.) She knew that I wanted to try to do the birth without drugs and suggested that she check me, and then check me again in an hour. I swore, but agreed. She said that it might inspire me. I was 7cm at 11pm. When she came back at midnight I was 7cm. I started to scream "Get me the short little man."  (The Anesthesiologist WAS short, and I realize it wasn't nice, but at the time anesthesiologist just seemed like such a LONG word.)  

I swear the man was sitting outside my room just waiting for me. He was in the room in less than a minute (or I was so out of it, and it was 10 minutes, but I don't think so.) I was so afraid of the needle. I was TERRIFIED and kept crying. He explained to me exactly what he was going to do, what it was going to feel like and everything that would be happening. I asked him to marry me. While he was putting in the Epidural the nurse (who I was less than thrilled about) was trying to put on a blood pressure cuff. I was PISSED. I had visions of her bumping me and causing the the needle to paralyze  me. I screamed at her. My midwife distracted me with the fact that it was after midnight and that meant it was now April 21st.  

NO HITLER-DRUG-DEALING BABY! 

The Epidural was AMAZING. I wish I would have gotten it at the beginning. My sweet husband tucked me in and we took a nap. By 8am I was 10 cm and ready to push. I got ready and pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and pushed. The midwife told me I was doing it right, but the baby wasn't coming down like he was suppose to. They determined that he needed to move into the birth canal, and had me move in a weird positions every 10 minutes for an hour then I went back to pushing. Around this point the midwife brought up the C word. I freaked out. Like hyperventilating freaked out. No way, no how was I getting cut open.

Not after 30 some hours of labor. 

NEVER.

I pushed like I never pushed before. My sweet husband commented on how much hair the baby had and I pushed harder. The midwife had me to continue to push while she went to consult with the OB/GYN. I kept pushing, figured I would surprise her with a baby. I didn't. The OB/GYN came in and we talked about options. I talked about how NO WAY IN HELL was I getting a C Section. As long as the baby was fine, I was fine. He told me about the vacuum and said we could either do it then, or wait an hour. If I waited an hour, I needed to be strong enough to push. I was SO convinced that it would work that I agreed to do it right then. 

He gave me three tries. If nothing happened I had to go straight to the OR. Sure, I figured, it will work. How could it NOT work right? After the first push I knew from the look on everyone's faces that it wasn't going to work. After the third push I started to freak out. Not little freak out, like full on anxiety attack. Hyperventilating, crying, hysterical panic attack. They whisked me to the OR while my husband was getting prepped. The Anesthesiologist (new one) was really nice. I was A HOT MESS. I couldn't breath, I couldn't talk, all I could do is cry.  He was really nice and kept wiping the tears from my eyes and telling me stories about his kids (He tired telling me what they were going to do, and I wasn't having it.) My eye sockets kept filling up with my tears and everything was blurry.

Everyone in the OR came and told me their name, and what their job was going to be. It was so nice, and I was such a mess. I wish I could have enjoyed it. Instead I told them that I didn't care what their job was, just do it right. It was not one of my prouder moments. I wasn't very nice.  At this point my husband came in, and I think the Anesthesiologist was more relieved than I was. I told him that I didn't want to know ANYTHING. NOTHING. I didn't care what they were going to do, how they were doing it, just do it. He told me he couldn't give me any drugs for the anxiety until the baby was out. I didn't care about the drugs.

Then he told me to hold my breath. Why you wonder? Because I was crying so hard that my whole body was shaking. They needed me to hold my breath so they could make the incision. 

Next thing I knew, I heard them say "he's out" then it was what felt like 5 minutes until we heard him cry (in reality it was seconds) I cried (happy tears this time) my husband cried. As soon as I saw him my first words were "There was no way he was coming out the other way." 

My big boy was born at 12:49 pm on April 21st. Bug weighed 9 pounds 2 ounces and was 22 inches long (the exact stats I was when I was born.) He was facing up (the wrong direction) so he was trying to come out with the largest part of his head. Obviously that didn't work.

Going home day! (4/26)

While they were cleaning him up the Doctor came around and told me it went great, and there was no reason that my next child couldn't be a vaginal birth. I told him (with several swear words involved) that there would be NO next child. At some point the Anesthesiologist shot me up with drugs, and the next hour or so is a blurry mess. I sort of remember "stuff" but not much until after my parents showed up. I was fine as soon as he was out, and I wish I would have thought to tell the doctor that. I had other things on my mind. 

I was in love. My mom, dad, and brother (who was flying out in the AM) were able to come to the hospital and meet him. It was amazing. I couldn't believe he was mine.  Recovery sucked. It sucked so much. You get to the point of pushing a kids head out, only to get to have surgery...not fun.  On the 2nd day the pain killers stopped working, we ended up on another floor of the hospital, and I was miserable. Breastfeeding wasn't working. I felt like my body failed me, and I am still a little mad at it. Then there was him. The perfect little boy that I fell more in love with each passing minute. 

Today that wonderful little guy turns 1! ONE! How did time fly so fast? Where has the year gone? All I know is I am so grateful that I get to be his momma. Happy Birthday Bug! Sorry momma was a bitch the day you were born. 

First Camping Trip

Yes, yes, I have a whole month of "stuff" that I am missing...I'll get to it...eventually!

This past weekend we added another thing to the "Baby's First" list. Bug went on his first camping trip! He turns one in a little over a week (SOB) and we wanted to take him before that. We left Friday and headed about 40 miles South of Fairbanks to a little dry cabin on the Salcha River. It was perfect! Not a soul around (other than the ones driving past on the nearby road) and just peace and quiet. We got to camp around dinner time, and hubby got to work starting a fire in the wood stove. (Note: My husband's friends are BRILLIANT, and gave us the idea of making calzones ahead of time to heat up on the fire. No cooking! AND yummy calzones.) We spent most of Friday evening trying to keep Bug away from the wood burner.

Friday night we snuggled into our sleeping bags, and Bug in his pack n' play in our little sauna, er....cabin. Around Midnight he woke up (probably because it was 934 degrees in the cabin.) My sweet husband tried to change him and let me sleep, but Bug thought it was a great time mid-diaper change to pee all over his dad's sleeping bag. Luckily, we keep an extra one in the car in case I ever break down in the winter. While up we went outside to see the Aurora. It will probably be the last time that we get a chance since it is really only dark enough from 11pm - 4 am, and even that is quickly going away. At some point during the night, the Bug ended up with us sleeping. He is worse than me, and takes over the ENTIRE bed area, elbows and all.

Saturday morning we work up and ate our breakfast burritos that we made before we left on Friday.  Bug wouldn't nap (too much light) so we decided to go for a drive since he will sleep in the car. We ended up driving to Delta Junction, which is about 100 miles from Fairbanks. On our way there we got run off the road by a large truck into a snowbank (on a back road.) Luckily, A. I have good tires. B. My husband is a good driver, and C. The truck actually stopped. We didn't actually need to talk to the truck driver since my husband got the car out of the snowbank and I got 1/2 my car cleaned off. No harm done. As frustrated as I was at the driver for causing my life to flash before my eyes, I did appreciate that he waited for us to get out.

When we were almost into Delta we noticed a small black cow laying in a field, a field without a fence and no other cows around. After getting some coffee and chocolate milk (and with a Bug still sleeping) we discussed rescuing "Norman" (my husband named him, and that's why I love him) and bringing him home with us. I mean, who DOESN'T want a pet cow? Well, when we went back, Norman was gone, as was my dreams of cow ownership.

We spent the rest of Saturday playing on the gravel bar next to the frozen river and sled riding (well, Bug was riding in the sled, we were pulling him.) Bug just wanted to be outside, just like his daddy, so we did a lot of exploring. Saturday night, Bug did a better job of going to sleep and staying asleep. We woke up Sunday, went sled riding, and then packed up in time for Bug's nap so he could sleep on the way home.

It was a great first trip for the Bug. I don't think I'd change a thing, and really want to go again....like tomorrow...I think Bug will agree.

AND now, in true Brooke style....a bazillion photos.

Bug REALLY likes the camera.

The Pipeline

Just scroll through the next photos quickly...it's funny. ;)

Take a Hike

Before we had Bug, before Bug was even a thought we knew we wanted to get future child outside as much as possible. 

This past weekend we took Bug on a hike on some trails near our house. He is becoming more independent and really thinks he should walk, so that made the end of the hike a little less than fun. We did let him walk at the end on the flat stretch. 

So less babbling, more photos. 

All hikers need a walking stick. 

Where's the Easy Button?

Living in Fairbanks, the land of snow and sun (because seriously, more sun than Seattle) I feel like I should be able to "do" something athletic in the winter. I have downhill skied since I was little...10 maybe? That is about it when it comes to winter sports that I can do. It's a little harder with a 10 month old to drop everything and just go skiing.

Other winter sports ideas? Ice Skating?

Never have I been able to stand up and actually skate (roller blade or ice skates.) I blame it on how tall I am and my center of gravity being at my knees....or it could be that Grace is my middle name and I can't walk and chew gum at the same time. Since I'm "so good" at roller blades, I figure I am even better at ice skating.

I did go skating  "once" as an adult. I took my middle school students, and they somehow talked me out onto the ice. Poor guys spent our entire 2 hours, trying to teach me how to skate. I taught a program for students with Emotional/Behavioral Disorders and I wish that every person who ever wrote them off as "bad" could have seen them that day (everyday actually, they were awesome.) SO patient, and so kind, keeping their teacher on her feet and spending their one field trip helping me. I still miss those kids.

ANYWAY. Long story short, Ice skating didn't work out.

Now that I've crossed that off my list,  next up is cross country skiing. I get the concept since you have to skate ski when downhill skiing to get across the flat parts at the bottom or runs. I'm good at that, how hard can cross country skiing be? HARD. I have officially gone twice as an adult and both times I hated it. HATED IT.

I really want to be able to do SOMETHING though...

I decided that I DO own cross country skis....I figured that today would be a good day to go give it try again. Why not? My husband and I packed everything we needed, packed the Bug and Bug supplies, and headed out. We drove down the hill into the valley behind our house. We go there, unloaded our skis, got bundled up and got the Bug's snowsuit and carrier ready for him (my husband was taking him, NOT me.)

We were ready to go! I was going to go cross country skiing and had high hopes of liking it. We went to grab the Bug....who had thrown up all over himself. Poor guy. He had puked earlier in the day but he was shoveling food and it went down the wrong pipe. We assumed it was a coincidence and that he couldn't be sick. He JUST got over being sick. Well...he doesn't feel well.

So, no skiing. We packed back up and took him home. I got to figure out how to take apart his car seat to wash it, and Bug's daddy gave him a bath. While being sick slowed him down, it didn't stop him...

A short while later we were getting dinner ready, and the Bug crawled over to his dad's guitar...his dad's 12 string that I bought him as a present years ago. Bug LOVES the guitar. Well, loved. He knocked it over and snapped the neck on it. Poof. Dead. I don't really think that Fairbanks has a ton of guitar repair stores. I'm sad. Really sad.

So today I learned that maybe I'm only meant to drink hot chocolate in the winter, don't let your kid lick the handle of the cart at Fred Meyers (okay...I didn't "let him" he was too quick for me, but that is what I blame for puking) and if your kid pukes, just stay home!

Babysitters Club

I might have the most active 10 month old known to mankind....okay, I know that isn't 100% true, but holy.smokes. Today was Mother Moose. It is at 10:30, and right smack dab in the middle of nap time. LUCKILY (sarcasm) Bug woke up at 5 am. I somehow convinced him that sleep was AWESOME and that he could sleep with momma if he'd just SLEEP. He is so stinking cute when we sleep together. He snuggles right up and melts my heart. 

Lucky for us, he was wide awake and ready to go to Mother Moose. He LOVES IT. It might be one of his favorite things EVER. Today it was really busy, and lots and lots of babies. His BFF's were all there. When we walked in he saw his friend that he hasn't seen in almost two months. He was just SO excited to see her. Other than using her to pull up, I "think" she was happy to see him too. 

During the story time, Bug made it his mission to try to get to every single infant in the room. I don't know what he's thinking, but he kept crawling towards them and then trying to smash them in the face. I "think" he really likes babies, but just doesn't understand how to interact with them. I hope that's the case. I'm sure I was "super" popular. 

When we first started going to Mother Moose I remember watching my friends babies crawling around, while my little Bug just sat there....oh, those were the days...sigh. I wish I could just sit there. 

During story time, I turned my back for .3 seconds. When I looked back, Bug wasn't playing where I had left him. I couldn't find him ANYWHERE. My heart stopped (not the first and not the last.) He was there, just quicker than I think he is. At one point he grabbed his buddy and they started to crawl OUT of the room. My kid was skipping class with his bestie. 

His besties mom and I followed them. They crawled across the library the whole way over to the fish tank. It's no short distance, and the kid didn't even look for me! Thanks for making me feel loved. Thanks a lot....

All in all, I needed a nap after story time. 

In other fun news, Bug had his first babysitter tonight (that wasn't family.) She's Italian, and a PhD student  in (something impressive) at the University. We had her over for dinner on Saturday and he LOVED HER. She came tonight and he melted. I'm glad he liked her so much. Bug's dad and I went to dinner at his Archaeological conference. I've learned my lesson in the past, stayed for just the dinner part and left before the talks started. Not saying that the talks aren't interesting....it's just that they aren't interesting (unless you're an archaeologist.) I came home to a passed out baby. Hopefully he had a good time and is now fluent in Italian (that was my request when I left the house.) 

Bug has some other exciting news too. This morning he fell flat on his face (no, that's not it.) When I checked his face, I noticed that FINALLY we have a tooth coming in. I see it! 10+ months and no teeth, but it's almost here! 

Hope everyone has a great weekend. 

These are the days of our lives....

I spent most of my life looking forward to something. I use spent the week looking forward to Fridays. I spent the month looking forward to the next month (payday.) I spent whole seasons looking forward to summer. I wished away whole parts of my life. 

That is the main thing that I'm trying to change. I wished away the first two weeks of Bug's life. Today, I found myself today looking forward to his nap time so I could sit down for .2 seconds. Then I stopped, and looked at him. I realized that after nap time he'd be bigger, older, and for now I need to stop looking forward to things and enjoy the now. Enjoy every second of his life and hopefully raise him to enjoy the now, and not count away the days of his life too. 

It is hard to believe that he will be one in 40+ days. CRAZY. 

It amazes me how much Bug is growing. He's a little toddler, but I don't want to admit that...EVER. He is doing awesome at learning new things, and cracks me up with his cleaning. 

I'm trying to get in as much momma and me time now as I can. At the end of April I am going to start watching Bug's new BFF. He will be 3 months old then, so we probably won't be going out a whole lot. (This will be the true test of if Bug will ever have a sibling.) 

Yesterday we went to the Children's Museum. Bug LOVES it. After a year, he costs $7.00 to get in and if I'm anything I'm two things: 1. Cheap and 2. Bad liar. I already got a weird look when I told the girl that he was only 10 months. He's not exactly small. He puts EVERYTHING in his mouth. EVERYTHING. It's hard to not worry that he'll catch something and get sick again. He's finally feeling better and we are able to go out and be around other babies again. 

Poopy Flights...

 (I wrote this on the plane last Wednesday....I couldn't connect to the internet to post it....I 'could' go through and change the tense of the post, but no one has time for that!! Pretend. It's fun!)

At some point I know that traveling with El Bug will be easy. 

This morning we woke up to freezing rain, which doesn't help when you need to drive three hours to the airport. My parents and I changed our plan (leave early, eat lunch) to leave with enough time to make it to the airport. Bug's auntie and grandma didn't make it down to say goodbye, the roads were so bad. 

The trip down was uneventful, thank God. We unloaded my 47389 bags, and I made it to the check-in desk with time to spare. For a low fee, I upgraded to first class (after checking to make sure no one would hate me.) That made my bags free, and I could check 3 of them (yay for no carry on.) When I went to pay my credit card was declined. My credit card has NEVER been declined. My wonderful mother (seriously, best mom ever) paid it for me while I called my credit card company. 

Someone had my credit card numbers and was using it at Wal-Mart in North Carolina. Assholes. My credit card company canceled my card, while my mom changed Bugs diaper. He had peed through his diaper and was soaked, so we went through wardrobe change #1. I realized after changing him that I only had one extra set of clothes. The rest were in my carry-on that I checked the whole way through. 

Once we said good bye to the world's best Mimi and Grampy, we went through security, bought a pretzel and an emergency onsie, and made it to our first flight. 

About 20 minutes into it, I felt wet. There was poop EVERYWHERE!!! All over him, all over me. I was mortified. The worlds best flight attendant (Patrick) helped me get back to the bathroom. I took off my shitty clothes, Bug's shitty clothes, and somehow got out in a reasonable amount of time. Wardrobe change #2. Bug sported his fleece snow outfit, and a onsie the rest of the flight. 

I did end up in the bathroom with a guy in a business suit. It was the only way to get past each other. I think he was mortified. I thought it was hilarious. 

The rest of our first flight was fine, the WBFA (World's Best Flight Attendant) Patrick played peek a boo with Bug, and gave us cookies. What's not to love. I gave him a tip, and thanked him profusely as we were leaving. 

We landed in Chicago, and I ran to the only store (I was told) that sold children's clothes. Harley Davidson. For $75.00 I had an extra backup outfit, and Bug had pants again.  I got it big on him, because for that price he is wearing it forever! 

We made it to our gate at boarding. The plane was packed, and I had an aisle seat. Next time, window seats! He likes looking outside, but with no window he likes to look at everyone else. He is cute, and charming, but that only gets you so far. As our plane finished boarding, I realized there was one empty seat on the plane. Next to me!!! Excited doesn't describe it. 

There were a few more poop incidents, but they stayed contained in his diaper. Currently, we are somewhere over Montana (Hi, Denali!) and the Bug is passed out next to me. 

Now for your enjoyment...selfies (in random places, since I am using the blogger app.) 

               

                        

                 

Bug Mode

I can't believe that it has been almost a week since I last wrote a blog post! Wow. Time flies when I am visiting my family. It's crazy!

This weekend my cousin and her family came in to go to see Punxsutawney Phil. They came in around 7 pm, and we went to bed close to midnight....and woke up at 3 am. There wasn't enough coffee in the world for that. Bug was off on his first sleepover, and the ONE TIME I could sleep all night, I slept 3 hours. It was worth it. My cousin and her family are awesome.

We left our house and got to Punxy around 5:00. We drove around trying to find parking, but could not. I was 16 the last time I went to see Phil give his prediction, so I've done it, and once was enough. After about 30 minutes we decided to go home. I know that sounds stupid...drive the whole way there to turn around, BUT I got to get coffee and then sleep for HOURS without worrying about the Bug. It was nice.

Yesterday was also one of my favorite days of the year. It's like Thanksgiving, but a "snacky" version. I love snacks, so it's right up my alley. Even better was that the SEAHAWKS were in the Super Bowl. I L-O-V-E the Seahawks.

I don't need to analyze the game. I'm not sure that Denver actually showed up. About half way through the game my mom made a comment that she was impressed with how calm I was (I flipped out during the NFC Championships.) No real point in flipping out when the Broncos are getting demolished.

My favorite moment of the game did not have anything to do with the actual game. At the same time Marshawn Lynch got the ball and ran it in for a touchdown, Bug took two steps! Marshawn might go into Beast Mode, but Bug goes into Bug Mode. Bug waking was as adorable as I imagined it would be. He took a few steps today from the couch to the table, but still thinks that crawling is the fastest form of transportation.

Sneaky Bug

When I came to Pennsylvania to visit family I brought our video monitor with me. I am glad that I did. The little bugger is getting too smart for his own good.

Since we started doing our own version of sleep training, he has been AWESOME (knock on wood) at going to bed and taking naps. He went from napping 20 minutes 3 times a day to taking two hour to two hour naps. He's not on a schedule, but I just do a better job of watching his cues.

ANYWAY. Sometimes, Bug is overtired. When he gets overtired, he WILL NOT SLEEP. He has figured out a sneaky way of getting out of a nap. Example: Today.

Today he was really grumpy and tired. I put him into his bed and tucked him in for his afternoon nap. He didn't make a peep. When he's over tired, usually he cries a little for a minute or two. Nope. Nothing. I walked out of the room and turned on the monitor.

There, on the screen was Bug staring at the door. Not saying a word. Next he grabbed his Mr. Frog (pacifier and played with that for a while) then he walked around his crib and knocked on the wall. He played with his Elmo, and after about 20 minutes he started to cry the cry he does when he wakes up from his nap.

Nice try Bug. Nice try. He did end up taking a nap.

He's getting smarter by the day. I'm in trouble.

Weekend Update

Yesterday, I spent 6 hours in the car driving my husband to the airport so he could fly back to Alaska and go to work. Stupid work. Bug stayed with my parents, and it was the longest he has ever been away from  me. Do you think he was excited to see me at all? NO. The kid just wanted his Grandpa. Nothing like feeling the love there.

In the middle of driving down and back from the airport, I stopped at the Outlet Mall to buy some clothes for Bug. I can't believe that he is in 12 month clothes already and almost into 18 depending on the brand. They need a "rent-an-outfit" business out there...It would be much cheaper in the long run!

This past weekend Bug was baptized. I thought for sure that he would throw a massive fit at some point. He had to get up early, and make it to the church (on time.) We tossed him into his adorable suit, which didn't fit around his little chubby neck. His nap was suppose to be at 10am, and it was closer to noon before we put him down. The good little guy went right (well, almost right) down for his nap.

So much craziness for one day, and he was so good.

In other news, today Bug is officially 9 months old. Sunday we were able to see our friend's newborn son. He is two weeks old and holding him makes Bug look like a toddler.  He's growing up so fast. On Saturday he said his first clear word, he's said Mamamama before, but on Saturday he said, "done."

Traveling with a Baby

Or "My own personal hell."

This was the third time that I have traveled with Bug on a plane. The last time we flew to the East Coast it was out of Seattle, and also a red eye. I think that the reason(s) that it went so well was that 1. It was overnight and 2. Bug just wanted to be snuggled up next to me.

This time it was night also, which you'd "think" would pay into our favor. WRONG. Bug went down Tuesday night like normal. While we were finishing packing (or starting, I'm not discussing it) we lost power. That was not a good omen for the rest of the day.

When we woke Bug up at 10 pm to leave for the airport he started to scream (and scream, and scream.) We put him in his car seat, and pulled out of the garage. He eventually calmed down. We tried a bottle, changed his diaper (all before we left.) I blamed the damn teeth. We had gone to the doctors earlier in the day because he just didn't seem himself. He has two coming in at the same time. LUCKY KID.

Once we got on the road it was about 30 minutes to the airport. Bug, thankfully, fell back asleep and I hopped that the rest of the trip would be smooth.

Wrong. (BUT, it could always be worse.)

We got to the airport and put Bug and his car seat on the airport stroller (thing that turns your car seat into a stroller.) I thought, "Okay. He's still asleep. There is hope." WRONG. Right after we checked in, Bug woke up. Not only did he wake up, he woke up screaming. I ended picking him up, and his dad wheeled his carrier AND all of our stuff. We looked like such a hot mess, that the TSA sent us our own personal guy to help us go through security.

Once we got to the gate, we let Bug crawl around since he was WIDE AWAKE. Once we got on the plane, Bug was GRABBING EVERYTHING. The guy in front of us, the guy next to us, EVERYTHING. I offered earplugs (and in reality I should have offered liquor.) He started crying, and would.not.stop. The little guy was SO TIRED. His dad tried holding him, I tried holding him. NOTHING. Finally after about two hours in the air (so around 3:30 am) Bug FINALLY fell asleep, across his dad and me. We got about an hour of sleep.

Once we got to Seattle we grabbed breakfast and I wrestled Bug for a diaper change. Bug spent our layover flirting with everyone and managed to cut his finger.

By some miracle, we got into Business Class (whatever the leg room rows are called) and there was an empty seat in our row. It was SO MUCH BETTER. He was still into everything, but liked looking out the window. He fell asleep before we were even in the air, and I got to enjoy the beauty of the Pacific Northwest and the sunrise over Mt. Rainer.

When we landed in Chicago, about 3 minutes after getting off the plane, Bug had the most epic of blow outs. POOP EVERYWHERE! I was so thankful that he decided to do that off the plane, because you could smell it EVERYWHERE.

The last flight wasn't too bad. It was only an hour (but they couldn't get the engine started, but made sure to tell us to not worry.) We gave Bug some more Tylenol, and he seemed pretty content.

Once we made it to Pittsburgh we had a 3 hour drive home. At this point Bug had had it. At one point even Tylenol wouldn't cut it. He just started screaming (it's okay buddy, I wanted to scream too.) My husband pulled off of the interstate, and into a parking lot of a farm store.

About 2 minutes after pulling into the parking lot, the state cops showed up. The cop pulled up to our window and asked us what we were doing. During this time, Bug was still screaming. The cop asked what we were doing, and over the screams my husband said, "teething baby." The cop wished us luck and drove off. I told my husband he was probably afraid we'd ask to turn him in. (No internet, we would never turn him in.)

Overall, LONGEST TRIP EVER. I'm thinking of driving back to Alaska. It sounds less torturous.

Also, if you're on Facebook, check out the FBX Adventure page for a giveaway.

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane....

I was 24 years old before I took my first airplane ride. I was a NERVOUS wreck (and that is an understatement.) I ONLY flew because my boyfriend (now husband) was working outside of Jackson Hole, WY at a snow machine lodge. He had limited use of a phone (satellite phone) and was there for three months. That and I missed him. Dumb Love.

Don't get me wrong. My parents TRIED to take me on a plane. When I was 10ish we were going to Florida. My poor mom and dad talked about flying down and I had a freak-out-meltdown. NO WAY, NO HOW was I flying. Instead of listening to me cry DAILY about how I wasn't going to be able to go to Disneyland, my wonderful momma and poppa bought a van and they drove us.

I would have left me at home. My parents are too good to me.

Anyway, why the rambling? We are getting ready to fly to Pennsylvania on Wednesday. Do you want to know HOW excited I am to fly with an 8 month old? ---> <--- that excited. Bug is 8 months old and has already flown twice. This will be his third time traveling by plane. I'm not TOO worried about him. It's all the things that can happen.

The first time was HORRIBLE! He was a rock star.

We left Seattle at 10pm, got delayed 9 times and had two flights cancelled. We ended up stranded in Chicago, and by some miracle, a wonderful United employee got me to Pittsburgh. It involved one more airport (D.C.) and a mad dash through the airport (with an 8 week old) to catch our flight that was taking off in 11 minutes.

Once we got to the plane (we were the last ones) we sat down and took a breath. Once the poor flight attendant moved people around. I guess they didn't notice the baby in lap, it was a small plane,and only one seat had an infant air mask. Bug was crying, I was crying, it was horrible. The pilot started the plane and it started to fill with smoke. We all had to exit the plane, and some wonderful guy grabbed my bags and told me to just worry about the baby.

I wanted to kiss him. I also wanted to cry.

It was nice to take a breather and hang out in the airport without running, with peeing, and let Bug lay on a blanket and stretch out.

We finally made it to Pittsburgh at 7pm, and to my parents house around 11pm (it's not THAT far, but we had a few stops on the way.)

Things that I learned while flying with an infant.

1. Breath. I was TERRIFIED of angry people. I was so worried about them being mean to me. Luckily, everyone was really nice. Bug also never said a single word the entire time. He cried out once while the first plane was taking off, but that popped his ears and he was fine then. On our second flight (of 4 total) the flight attendant gave him wings and said he was the best baby ever. Well, duh. At some point I know I will have an upset baby and an upset person near me.

2. Clothes. Bring at least an extra change of clothes for yourself and a few outfits for the baby. Nothing like baby puke at 30,000 feet. Also know that a lot of planes do not have a changing table.

3. Food! At the time that we flew, I was pumping for him because he couldn't suck. (Start sarcasum font) It was AWESOME (end sarcasm font.) Nothing like trying to find a place to pump in an airport. As a side note Seattle has awesome spots for momma's in the bathroom. Chicago had family bathrooms that you could lock yourself into. Anyway, Bug also was getting formula. LUCKILY I am a nut and packed enough for a week, but make sure you have enough food for the baby.

4. Diapers and wipes. Make sure that you have enough! You never know what will happen, and being stranded at an airport with a baby...nothing worse than not having clothes.

5. While the plane is taking off and landing, make sure your baby is sucking on something. It will help with the change in the ear pressure.

Those are pieces of advice that I got when I flew with Bug. They have been helpful each time we've flown. The plane is like a giant white noise machine. I hope that helps for Bug this time too. He is quickly needing entertained all the time, and I know that soon I will need more tricks in my book!

Do you have any advice for flying with a baby?

Parenting Joys

Being a parent is HARD. Bug is only 8 months old, so I can ONLY imagine how much harder it gets. Totally worth it though, right?

Bug "was" a great sleeper. About a month and a half ago he decided that mom and dad were too exciting and he WOULD NOT go to bed. We didn't want him to cry, so I'd end up entertaining a baby at 10 pm. It wasn't good for my mental health to have zero time to do anything else (like shower...and eat.)

I started to read all the baby sleep books that I said I'd read before Bug was born. If you want to have kids someday, DO EVERYTHING before they come. That's the last "time" you will have. I am very, VERY lucky in that I have the world's most amazing husband. We sat down and discussed our goals, what was best for Bug, and what we could do to make sure we did the best thing for Bug. Being on the same page was so important.

One thing I learned in all those books was that Bug's bedtime was MUCH later than it should be. Opps. We would try getting him down around 8, 8:30. By then he was overtired and was WIRED.

Parenting is a learning curve.

So it's been a week and we've been doing Sleep Training. It's been gradual, and the first night was horrible (for us, not him) but the past couple of days he's been fine going into his bed. I have definitely cried a HELL of a lot more than he did. He still gets up at night, and I'm not willing to let him cry. He eats, gets changed and goes right back to sleep. Truthfully, I like our midnight snuggles. I'm hoping that with a schedule now (in bed around 7, passed out by 7:01 and up again at 7am) the night feeding will gradually go away.

I am NOT one for schedules. I can make them for other people, and all that fun stuff, but I like change and randomness. That was one of the main reasons I loved my job SO MUCH. It was always a different thing each day. Having to make a schedule and keep it...I'm not use to that.

Bug and I use to sleep on the couch until 9 am (he'd get up around 4, and we'd just sleep on the couch from then on...not great for getting him to sleep on his own.) This morning he was up at 7. His daddy got him a bottle and I stumbled out of the bedroom with my hoodie still pulled up over my head. I attempted to make coffee, but forgot to put a mug under the Keurig. Mornings are rough.

I know that if you as 10 people the same question, you'll get 900 answers. The best advice I got while pregnant was to listen to everyone, and make your own choices.

In other news, Martha the moose is back. She decided to sleep at my neighbor's house and then spent the day playing in her yard. Better her than me.

Baby Firsts - Haircut

Another blogger that I read writes, "Babies don't keep." She is 100% correct, and Bug is growing faster than I ever thought possible. How did THIS 

Photo credit to Jill

Go to an almost 9 month old!! HOW!? I do not know how this sweet little guy has grown into a little boy. They say time flies, but...well, I could go on and on about how big he is getting, and how sad it makes me. I won't. Well, I will, but I'll stop for now. 

Bug was born with long locks. At 10 days old a hairdresser offered to cut his hair. In my ideal world, I was planning on waiting until he was a year old, but that hasn't worked out. Bug's hair kept growing and growing. I trimmed it once, but didn't trust myself to do much more. 

Bug's dad had a haircut yesterday, so we figured we'd get Bug's first haircut. I thought he'd cry or something. Nope. He was so good. Lots of laughing and giggling. I was such a proud momma!

He wasn't really sure when she started.

I think the kid ate 9 combs. He kept dropping them and the lady cutting his hair
kept handing him a new, clean one. I loved her. 

 

Finish product! We miss the Muppet hair. 

Now, someone make time slowdown. Please!! When we got home tonight Bug was playing and crawling around. He fell, which he's done before, but this time he hit his gums and was bleeding. Poor guy. Life is hard when you're 8 months.