Bloggin's a habit

The other day, while procrastinating doing anything productive with nap time, while taking some well planned time for self-reflection, I re-read most of my old blog entries. It was so fun, and a little weird, reading about all of the crazy shenanigans I've been up to for the last 5 and a half years. (And by crazy shenanigans I mostly been procrastinating, goofing around, and quitting and becoming re-addicted to Diet Coke in 5 different states and various different jobs.) It made me sad that I've dropped the ball in such a major way in the blogging game. Blogging really does serve as a journal of sorts, and I want to record how life is right now. Blogging has a way of helping me see all of the good stuff that's going on, and helping me laugh at some of the not-as-rosy parts.

If you are wondering why write in a public blog when I could write in a private journal, I would first ask why you why you even clicked this link if you don't like snooping through people's lives? Reading blogs is my favorite, and I wish everyone kept a blog. And none of this vague "November was a rough month" stuff, I want details, man! I'm nosy, alright?? And secondly, I have a regular journal I occasionally write in, but journal writing just isn't my gig, for several reasons:
1. My handwriting has rapidly declined since college.
2. I can only write about half of a page before my hand starts cramping.
3. I apparently only feel motivated to write in my journal when I'm feeling very emotional and hormonal. All of my journal entries from the past 10 years sound mostly like this "No one likes me and I'm so bad at life and I'm fat and what am I doing with my life and everything is haaaaard, wah wah wah." I am slightly less likely fall into such hysterics when on a public forum.

To sum up: I'm back to blogging, baby.

Let's just start with the here and now, shall we?

For a weird change of pace, all 3 members of the Reeves family (plus Abby) are currently all residing in our house in Spokane! I've kind of forgotten what it's like to do the normal day-to-day stuff and have my husband go to work in the morning and come home in the evening. Sometimes I'll be juggling Nate and the diaper bag and carrying a million other things and Cary is like, "uh... Can I carry some of that for you??" And I'm like "Oh yeah! I don't have to do carry everything by myself all the time! Yessss." But, alas, I'd better keep my carrying-all-of-the-things arms in shape. Ugh everyone needs to stop fighting and trying to kill each other so my husband can stop being gone all of the time! Well and also because world peace and stuff. Anywho, for the time being, we are loving being a happy little family in our happy little house for a little while. Nate and I had a most excellent real-life sabbatical in Colorado for part of the time that Cary was away, but we're pretty fond of our gig out here in Spokane too. Aaaaand here comes some random pictures that haven't previously found their way on to the world wide web.

Oh Abby... you're the only one who gets me. 

I just love that sleeping baby. 

Just doing the gangsta lean at our happy place: Target

Reading a book with Grandpa!

Such a big boy!

This is how the cool kids drink their milk.

Looking out the window is a favorite past time around here. Mostly in hopes that I will stop paying attention long enough for him to take a splash bath in the dog water. 

So serious in his little baby couch! 

I post eleventy-billion pictures of my darling Nater-tot on instagram and what not, but I don't write much about who this little guy is. And I want to remember everything about my sweet little friend as he is right now, at almost 13 months old.

Nate is just pure sunshine. He brings so much joy and happiness and laughter to my life. He is so curious and so busy, but it just delights me. Of course he spends his days emptying my drawers, eating every crumb and clump of dog fur on the floor, and just generally getting into mischief, but he's one! That's just kind of the deal with one year olds! I read this article recently that was just endlessly bemoaning the many difficulties of having a one year old in the house and it just bummed me out. Yes, doing anything with Nate around takes about 3 times as long as it would if I were alone, but I am so lucky to have this little friend to distract me! If all you see is the tipped over trash can, hair shellacked with banana goop, and sticky finger prints on the windows, you are missing the good parts of having a tiny person live in your house! I see a little dude persistently trying to learn a new skill and being so thrilled when he figures it out, chubby fingers exploring what bananas feel like between them (and what they feel like in his hair, on his arms, and between his toes??) and it's just awesome. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I just want to unload the dang dishwasher and I feel like the wonder of crawling into the dishwasher has got to wear off someday and yet it does not, but at the end of the day, all of the busy-ness and messyness is so worth the fun. It is such a treat to have a front row seat to watching my baby boy explore the world. I love introducing him to new foods, sights, and experiences. The world is so big and exciting to this little guy, and it is incredible to see it all again through his big brown eyes.

Emptying all of the clothes from my drawers is another favorite hobby of Nate's.

As in playing the piano. I love this picture.

Silly baby!

Opening a package with dad!

Nate LOVED grandma's snack drawer, and I loved that he didn't know how to open the bounty of snacks within. 

My baby boy is growing up and learning more every single day. Nate says "mama" "dog-dog" "da-da" "ah-dah (all done)"and "ay-yo" (hello, my favorite!!). Recently, whenever someone says hi to him, he puts his hand up to his ear. I could not figure out what he was doing, until one day someone called my phone and I answered and said "hello?" and Nate immediately stuck his hand up to his ear like he was on the phone. I just think that is about the cutest thing in the world. If you hand him any object that is even remotely phone-shaped, he will immediately hold it up to his ear and say "ay-yo?" Goodness, it is just way too cute. Nate also enjoys communicating by clicking his tongue, blowing raspberries, and doing the bbbb-thing with his finger and lips. He also LOVES giving big, open mouth kisses. Oh be still my heart. He will often crawl into my lap, grab my face, and plant a big wet one right on my entire nose/mouth/chin area. It is so gross and SO cute.

Nate is in zero hurry to start walking. He can take about 3 steps, but will only do so if he's already standing and can walk a couple of steps to mom or dad. He crawls like a maniac and dang is he speedy! He can go up and down the stairs, both fairly terrifyingly. Nate absolutely loves to read books, but will not hesitate to tell you that you are reading far too slow for his taste and will flip the pages whenever he feels ready. He has his 2 bottom teeth and one canine tooth, with his other canine tooth and one bottom molar just about poke through; a very odd assortment of teeth.

Finally got this big guy a new car seat! 

I know I already posted this on facebook... but Nate in that hat is just way too cute. Just ignore Cary's creeper-stache. 

Waiting in line for the Journey to Bethlehem put on by the Seventh Day Adventists in our area. It was freezing cold and we waited for 2 hours, but it was such a great start to our Christmas season. 

My mom got Nate this little truck for his birthday and Nate LOVES it. 

I mean, seriously LOVES it. 

Cary and I are basically just trying to hang on through this insane ride we are currently on, courtesy of the Air Force. Cary spent less than 4 months in his own bed this year, and next year is very sadly going to be off to a very similar start. Cary and Nate try to cram in all of the fun they can have into the very short time we all have together, and those two are just the cutest and funniest little duo. I keep trying to wrap this up in a tidy package but it all sounds super cheesy so I'll end with this:

Life is weird and hard lots of times, but mostly it's really good.

Snapshot

I never want to forget Nate at this age. His chubby little fists and triumphant smile when he figures something out, the way he kicks and squeals and smiles so big when I come get him out of his crib- this is the good stuff, man. So mostly for me, here is a snapshot of what Nate is like at 7 months.

Things Nate Loves

•Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? Easily his favorite book. Must be the colors. 

Cary hates this book because cats are not purple and horses are not blue.

•Jumping in the bouncer. Funniest little guy, jumping so enthusiastically in this thing! He usually lasts a good half hour in there while I work out in the morning. It's a lifesaver.

Looking cute and hilarious in his sun hat.

Work out buddy

•EATING. Especially eating what Mom and Dad are eating. This kid is like a little golden retriever and will eat until he pukes. Gross.

Triumphantly stuffing some cantaloupe in his mouth that he snagged from Mom.  

Gimme dat. 

•Sitting up. He looks so old and so proud of himself, sitting there playing with his toys!

I mean, seriously? How is he so cute?

•Playing with Dad. The best of friends.

My heart. 

•Walks. That crazy expensive stroller was so worth it, because Nate looks so comfy and happy and loves to be strolled around.

This is his cousin's doll stroller, and when Nate was being outrageously cranky, being pushed around in this thing cheered him right up. Goofy baby. 

How Nate enjoys many of our strolls. Looks delightful. 

•ABBY. Nate is the laziest baby on earth, but the promise of grabbing a fistful of Abby hair and stuffing it in his mouth will get this baby to scoot when nothing else will. This boy is seriously so lazy. He finally rolls both ways, but doesn't usually feel particularly compelled to do so. He has never attempted crawling or pulling to stand, but I'm not in any hurry for him to be mobile. He can stay contentedly sitting on his blanket for a looooong time. 

Such cute friends. Abby is especially fond of Nate when he is eating/feeding her. 

•Grabbing everything. Hair, napkins, forks, phones, everything- if it's grab-able, he's grabbing it. And it's going straight for the mouth.

Silly baby. 

•Glow rattle. Grandma got him this little glowing rattle and Nate LOVES it. Most of his toys aren't that exciting to him, but if someone snags his glow rattle from him, he loses his mind.

•Face-timing with family. Not sure if he just likes looking at his own cute face, but he loves it anyway.

•Dog book. Other favorite book. It has lots of things to touch and moving flaps and he's a big fan.

Seriously the best book ever. 

•Squealing. Especially during quiet moments at church.

The swing elicits many joyful squeals and hilarious kicking of chubby legs. 

•Blowing raspberries. This is Nate's love language. He gets so thrilled, like we're all speaking some secret special language, when we do it back and forth.

Laying on the ground, blowing raspberries to himself. Such a goof. 

•Baths. A happy time of the evening for all. He especially loves drinking bath water. Gross. And swimming is extra awesome because it's like a giant bath, with Mom and Dad in there!

He's since graduated to sitting in the tub like a big boy and it kind of makes me want to cry. 

•Cuddling with blankets. One of Nate's most endearing and adorable habits is laying his head down on blankets and rubbing his head into them when he's tired. So so darling.

•Hobbes. We wake up in the morning to Nate and Hobbes having a very adorable conversation.

And sometimes he also enjoys making out with Hobbes. 

Things Nate Does NOT Love

•Napping. Argh. 90% of Nate's naps are 45 minutes, and then he throws in a 2.5 hour nap in there every now and then just to confuse me, and only if I have somewhere I was supposed to be. The stinker.

•Nursing when he's not in the mood. If Nate is not in precisely the right mood to nurse, he is such a pill. Back arching, pushing away, yelling, the whole works. And if I'm hot or he's hot, it's downright offensive to even offer to nurse.

•Being hot. See above. Poor little dude is pretty sensitive to the heat and gets all red and sweaty and cranky pretty quick. This makes summer in Alabama a bit challenging.

•Being tired. Despite his hatred of naps, he sure acts like he wants them. Being woken up makes him so mad. So like his Dad...

This little friend has logged an impressive amount of travel hours in his little life- 75+ hours of car trips so far, and 5 flights, and he is such a trooper. But homeboy loves himself his crib and sleeping is always a bummer when we're traveling, which is too bad since we've been traveling for about 1/2 of his life. 

•Getting things taken out of his hands. So rude.

•When the food is gone. Also rude.

•The snot sucker. I would hate it too, bud.

•Green vegetables. I did all of the right things and only offered vegetables first and I continue to try them over and over again but he just will not do it! The only vegetables he'll eat are squash, carrots, and sweet potatoes. If it's green, it aint happening. But if it's mixed with fruit, he'll eat it.

Nate's sleeping is possibly improving. He is in the middle of a good streak, but he's fooled me with these streaks before... He'll be sleeping great for a few days, maybe even a week, and then he will completely dissolve and wake up 6 times a night for a week. It makes me fairly nutty. But he's so darn happy and sweet, I can't be too mad about it. Whenever we are out and about, people always comment on what a sweet-natured and mellow baby he is. He really is just the sweetest. But then people always follow that comment with "Enjoy it now, it won't last." Pfff, I'm just going to continue to live under the delusion that he will always sit sweetly and cherubicly in the high chair while we eat lunch, don't go prematurely raining on my parade!

He is a dynamite Target shopping buddy, and never judges my food court Diet Coke or my impulse purchases.  

I love having my little best friend around. He is currently a delightful errands running buddy, as long as we aren't out too close to nap time, and everyone stops to enjoy his chubby and grinning self. But for as darling and sweet as he is, he always plays hard to get whenever any stranger comes to chat with him. He goes from babbling and grinning to giving a pretty decent crusty stare, and occasionally flickering his eyes to me, wondering if he should cry or not. That's okay- it makes his laughs and giggles that much more endearing when you have to earn them.

I love watching him play with Cary. It melts my heart. I was getting ready for church the other day and Cary was reading Brown Bear Brown Bear to Nate, making all of the animal sounds, and it was one of those moments you want to put in a bottle and save forever. I'm a lucky lady.

I can't believe how tiny he used to be. When I look at these pictures, I feel a little bipolar. One the one hand, I miss his teeny little self who used to curl up on my chest and sleep for hours and his little newborn sounds and just general brand new perfectness. But on the other hand, newborn days were a rough go for us, and I'm kind of glad they are behind me. And he is so much fun now, and I love watching his little personality develop. Geez, it goes fast. If only someone had told me that... Ha. Being a parent means constantly wishing you could pause, rewind, and fast forward; sometimes all at once. But this little babe just keeps growing and I love him more every day.  And especially on the days he sleeps well. 

Kiss me.

6 years ago, on May 10th, I got a call from a cute boy I'd met at church a few times, asking me to go to this big dance with him at the Air Force Academy. I said yes, and asked how tall he was so I would know how high of heels I could wear. When he said he was 5'8'' I immediately mentally categorized him right into the friend zone and bought some flats for the dance. He asked me out for the next Wednesday and I also said yes, because I love free food.

And now for a note from Amy's soapbox. When it is a Sunday, and a person says "next" Wednesday, it should be assumed that they mean the Wednesday that is a week and a half away. Because the Wednesday in 4 days would be called "this" Wednesday. See: Figure 1.

Figure 1

 Am I right, or am I right?

This has a point. When "THIS" Wednesday rolled around, I went for a nice afternoon run. After my run, I met my friends at Chipotle, because the logical thing to do after running 5 miles is to eat a 1,000 calorie burrito. It should be mentioned that I decided against showering, and just went all sweaty, because I am disgusting. It should also be noted that during my summers home from college, I never brought my cell phone anywhere or wore makeup, because I really loved spending the whole summer enjoying the dating practices of a nun. For reals though, I truly looked forward to 4 whole months without having to worry about flirting or giving phone numbers or shaving my legs regularly.

That is beside the point. The point is, there I was, blissfully pounding down my burrito, when my friend gets a text from my brother, telling her to tell me to call home ASAP. I call home, and my mom informs me that Cary has called my phone twice and called the house, looking for me to make sure we were still on for our date tonight. Whaaaa?? I told her that she needed to tell him that I can't go, because I just ate a massive burrito and I am in no condition to put on pants that require a zipper and button. But Cary was only in town for a day before he had to head back and wouldn't be back again until Ring Dance. And my mother, being much afeared that I would never be asked a date again in my life, forced me to come home, shower, shove myself into my jeans, and go on the date. Despite my major bloating from the burrito and awkwardness from being me, I thought the date was great. We went go-carting, and the temperatures got a little chilly towards the end, and Cary offered me his jacket over and over. And even though I was freezing, I kept saying no because I was honestly afraid that it would be too small, and that would really be depressing. Cary was still sitting pretty in the friend zone at this point, but the evening had been most enjoyable. The date ended with an awkward side hug, as most of my first dates tend to, but I had way more fun than I was anticipating. He was so much fun to talk to. And he was pretty dang cute for an Air Force nerd. 

So. The next week and a half go by, we text and talk a little, and it's ring dance time! I did my hair 3 different times and mentally rehearsed possible conversations starters for our hour and a half drive down to the Academy. He came to pick me up, we took some highly original and not awkward pictures by the stairs and such, and we were on our way. I didn't even have to delve into my conversation starter topics at all and we talked and talked the whole drive there. Horrendous traffic and rain turned our hour and a half drive into 3 hours, but conversation flowed perfectly. And guess what? He talked back! Anyone who has ever met me knows that I could easily fill 3 hours with nonsensical babble without breaking a sweat, but we both contributed to the conversation, and that alone caused me reconsider his placement in the friend zone. 

Ring dance started with a dinner and presentation of the class rings to the new Air Force Academy seniors. Right before they started handing out the rings, Cary leaned over and whispered, "There's something I should probably tell you." In my head, I was preparing myself for several possible confessions. I have food in my teeth? I spilled on myself? He's gay? He fumbled with his napkins and soldiered on: "They have a tradition here... For christening the rings." He looked really nervous and uncomfortable and I feared that the christening involved sacrificing a goat or your date or something. I stared at him in anticipation. "See... The date usually takes the ring and drops it into her champagne (sparkling cider) glass. And when she drinks it, she's supposed to catch the ring in her teeth and give it to the cadet... Through a kiss. But you don't have to if you don't want to.... I mean, if you want to... we can... But, um... yeah." All I could respond with was, "Oh!" I was so relieved that no goats or dates would be sacrificed that the reality of this situation didn't really sink in. Our first kiss was going to be around approximately a billion people, and giant metal ring was going to be involved. It really wasn't quite how I pictured it going down. But I still wasn't too concerned. Cary was still fairly solidly planted in the friend zone, and I thought it would just be a cute little story and another tally for the "Boys I've Kissed" list. 

The ring, in the bottom of the glass. Cary cracks me up in this picture. He looks so nervous.

I dropped the ring into my glass and suddenly my hands were sweating and my heart was pounding. What the heck? Why was I nervous about kissing this guy? I was terrified. For several reasons:
1. What if I choke on the ring? I am really not all that coordinated and that would be horrible way to die.
2. What if I kiss him... and it's more than just a funny kiss for tradition? That would really ruin my summer plans of not shaving or showering with regularity.
3. I hate sparkling cider. I have to drink a whole glass? Ugh.

So I drank the sparkling cider, miraculously caught the ring in my teeth, and leaned in to give it to Cary with a kiss. It was awkward, staged, metal-y, and perfect. I remember perfectly the feeling of the ring clanging as it touched my teeth teeth and the feeling of shivers that went down to my toes when Cary's lips touched mine. We laughed and blushed and I immediately knew that this boy was going to be more than a tally. 

6 years since our first kiss and 5 years since this kiss, and I never want to stop.

Happy Anniversary, Cary Wilson Reeves. It just keeps getting better. 

Laboring in love

Love at first sight. That's how a lot of people describe meeting their baby for the first time. It's what I always expected. The thought of meeting my baby and feeling that breath-taking love is what kept me going through some of the less-than-wonderful moments of pregnancy.

After a grueling 2 hours of pushing, they laid Nate on my chest and my husband and the nurses were excitedly celebrating his arrival, asking me if I wanted to nurse. I barely remember mumbling something apparently in the negative and they whisked him away to go clean him up. The room felt like it was spinning and I felt so confused and tired and oddly sad and I just wanted to go to bed. I tried to get a grip and sit up to meet this baby that had consumed my every thought for 9 months. As they placed him in my arms, I kept waiting for that feeling of love and elation to wash over me. But all I felt was tired, and I just wanted this tiny wrinkly stranger to go away for a while so I could go to sleep. My husband and mom gushed over him and I feebly tried to join in, but I just felt so detached and so so tired. The days in the hospital were a blur of trying to nurse and a nonstop flow of people in scrubs coming in to poke and prod my baby and me. I wanted to go home, and I kind of wanted to leave the baby at the hospital and pretend none of this ever happened.

We got home, and the sleeplessness and overwhelmed feeling continued. But even with these confusing emotions swirling in my head, I knew that I would take care of my baby. Even if I didn't feel all that bonded to him, I felt a sense of duty from being his mother, and I wouldn't let anything happen to him. After all, it wasn't his fault that he got a dud of a mom. He deserved someone to take care of him and someone to love him. And I wanted to be that someone. Oh how I wanted it. I would post a picture of him and people would comment about how cute he is and how much they loved him- If they loved him so much, why didn't I? I would look into his curious little eyes and say "I love you" to my tiny baby, but I felt like I was pretending. It felt so forced. I so badly wanted to mean it. It felt more like, "I want to love you. I know I SHOULD love you. I'm trying to love you." Where I expected a roaring flame of all-consuming love for my baby, I found instead a tiny bed of coals. Tiny coals that made me want to take care of him and protect him, even if I didn't find the experience that all enjoyable.

With an unwavering sense of duty to this tiny person I brought into the world, I tended to this little babe. I struggled through nursing because I wanted to give it my all, I spent countless hours rocking and soothing a baby who didn't want to sleep. I knew I was capable of taking care of him, but it felt like such a chore. I started to dread our night time routine. The whole bathing/lotioning/diapering/feeding/rocking felt about as fun to me as a 2 hour root canal. I felt like if someone knocked on my door and said "Hi! I promise to love and care for your baby; can I have him?" I would have shrugged and said, "Sure! He's all yours." But as no one was making the offer, I continued to take care of the many needs of this tiny little person, all day and all night.

What I didn't realize was that every diaper change, every middle of the night feeding, every minute spent rocking and cuddling was stoking the fire. Those little coals were burning and tenderly caring for my baby was slowly adding kindling to my little fire. It took my breath away to realize that where once a few coals burned, a huge fire was roaring inside of me, and I knew I loved my baby more than I had ever loved anything in my life. I would without hesitation give up my time, my money, and my life for him. And I would do it not because I have to, but because I want him to be happy and healthy more than I've ever wanted anything. It didn't happen overnight, and it didn't happen because I sat around and waited to love him. It happened because I just kept working at it. I kept telling him I love him even when it felt forced, I kept bathing him even though it was tedious, and I kept going to him in the middle of the night even though I wanted to put in ear plugs and pretend I was anywhere else.

Last night, I scooped Nate up from his bath, wrapped him in a fluffy towel, gave him a squeeze and soaked in all 16.5 chubby pounds of sweet-smelling, 5 month old perfection. I sang to him as I lotioned him up and gloried in his chunky thighs, his sweet giggle, and the way he smiles so big when his head pops through the onesie as I dress him. I sat in the rocker and melted at the way he touches my face as he eats and the way he nuzzles his head into me when he's ready to go to sleep. I kissed him goodnight, closed the door, and my heart felt like it might burst. I found myself looking forward to our middle of the night feeding because sometimes I miss him when he's sleeping. Tears sprung to my eyes as I realized how much I love that little boy, and how much joy he brings me. Our night time routine is now a highlight of my day. Actually, it's a highlight of my life. I never could have imagined how much happiness a clean and sleepy baby in my arms would bring me. Sure, sometimes I wish he would just stop pooping so I wouldn't have to change diapers, and sometimes I'm slightly less joyful about seeing him when it's the middle of the night. But taking care of my baby now brings me so much joy and fulfillment.  Every single night, I thank God over and over again for blessing me with this little one that lights up my life.

Falling in love is an interesting phrase. It makes it sound effortless- like you trip and suddenly find yourself in love.  And for some, that seems to be the case. A baby is placed in their arms and they are instantly in love. But for me, I find the phrase laboring in love to be much more apt. I quite literally labored for the love that now fills my entire heart and soul. I had to work for it, but it doesn't make that love any less genuine or any less blissful. And for any new mom out there struggling through the newborn haze of sleeplessness and endless feedings, looking at her baby and wondering if it is ever going to be worth it, I want to hug you through the computer screen and tell you YES. Keep kissing those cheeks and wiping that bum. Keep tending those little coals. Pretty soon you're going to be feeling the warmth of a burning fire of love for that baby, and nothing has ever felt better.

4 months in.

My roly poly little bundle of perfection is 4 months old today! I can hardly believe it. It feels like he's been here forever and like I just gave birth to him, all at the same time.

Here's a little bit about our Natey Naterson at 4 months old.

Nathan loves:

1. His hands. Homeboy is obsessed with sucking on his hands and playing with them.

Mmmm hands

2. His mama. This kid is definitely a mama's boy. He likes just about everyone, but always looks for me when I'm talking and loves to nuzzle into me and fall asleep. Lucky for him, I'm pretty fond of cuddling up with him too. 

Best fwiends

3. The car. Nate still loves sleeping in his car seat and is incapable of staying awake in it. It's super nice for now, because I can go on walks and runs and do errands and he just peacefully snoozes away.

4. Bath time. Bath time is a highlight of both of our days. He is so darn cute in there, kicking and splashing. Our whole bedtime routine is a happy time, and snuggling up to my sweet smelling baby in cuddly pajamas afterwards is one of those moments I just want to put in a bottle and keep forever. It is everything I dreamed it would be. 

Just the cutest little nugget

Chubalub

 5. The mirror. That baby in there is just so cute!

6. Tickles and zerbits. Making that cutie pie laugh is MY favorite.

7. Spitting up. I'm not sure how much he likes it, but he sure does it a lot. We do a lot of laundry. And always smell like sour milk.  

8. Everything. Nate is always smiling and playing (unless it's nap time). I read somewhere that babies this age cry an average of 2 total hours per day, and I would be shocked if Nate totaled 15 minutes of crying each day. He is so happy and content, and I just love his guts.

Loving grandma cuddles

 

 

 

 

Reading books with Aunt Jenay and Ellie. Nate loves to be read to!

Enthralled by watching TV. I try to keep the TV off when he's awake because anytime it's on, he is completely fixated.

His hair is growing in blonde, and it is crazy looking!

Nathan does NOT love:

1. Sleeping. I sure wish this would change. We work at this every single day. We have a predictable routine of eat-play-sleep, I lay him down awake and he falls asleep by himself, but he wakes up every single dang nap at exactly 45 minutes. You could set a clock to him. And he absolutely will not go back to sleep no matter what I try, unless I hold him. In my arms, he will sleep for 3 hours. What the heck, baby?? His night sleeping has somewhat improved, in that he wakes up 4 or 5 times usually instead of 15. But sometimes he throws in a 15 wake up night just to keep my on my toes. And once again, I don't feed him to sleep, he goes down to bed awake and falls asleep no problem, and I am completely bamboozled by his sleep dysfunction. But I am apparently learning to function on 5 highly disrupted hours of sleep and usually only have a complete mental breakdown every 2 weeks or so. We'll get through it. And when he's a teenager, I'm going to go into his room at night and cry every 30 minutes for pay back. 

Sleeping in Mom's arms is where it's at for Nate-dizzle

2. Getting his neck blow dried. Due to spitting up all of the darn time, he got a really gnarly yeast rash in his chubby neck folds. We have to blow dry the area after bath time and put some cream on in it, and he haaaaaates it. Sorry, buddy. Stop spitting up and we won't have this problem!

So glad his little neck is better- it looked so painful and sad!

3. When I try to feed him and he's not hungry. Sometimes I try to feed him a little sooner than usual because we're going to church or out somewhere, and he gets soooo mad. It's a little annoying but mostly hilarious to hear him yelling when his mouth is full of boob, haha.

His "not love" list is a short list, because he is just the happiest, most content little man. His default emotion is happy, and it takes a lot of tick him off. I'm just crazy about the little booger.

And here's a little bit about me, at 4 months of being a mom.

I feel like I'm finally coming into my own as a mom. After reading stacks of books and scouring the internet for all baby advice, my internal "mom" compass was spinning wildly and I had no ability to trust myself and my abilities as a mother. I was completely paralyzed by not wanting to do it wrong. I read one book that just really spoke to my type-A neurotic planner self, and I tried to stick to it religiously. I would feed Nate, play for a while, and at the first sign of an eye rub or a fuss, I would do our nap routine and lay him down awake for his nap. He would fall asleep perfectly and then wake up at exactly 45 minutes and I would completely panic. It's only been 2 hours since he's ate, and he's not hungry, so I can't feed him. But the book says not to let them be awake before you feed them because they'll get too tired and you don't want them to fall asleep while eating. But the book also says not to hold them or put them in a swing or give them any other "sleep prop". So what do I do?? It seems so stupid now, but having a baby that wasn't following the "rules" made so panicked and stressed. I felt like I was doing something wrong because my baby was still waking up so much at night and napping like crap, and I resented Nate for foiling all of my efforts to have him on a schedule. As I read yet another baby book, which contained the exact opposite tenants of book #1, but equally as passionate that this was the right way, I realized that there is no "right" way to raise a baby. There are things that work for some people, and tips that can help trouble shoot, but in the end, I'm the one who knows this baby. The people who wrote these books never met Nate, and Nate definitely did not read up on how he is supposed to behave. I was texting a friend about my many insecurities as a mom and countless ways I was royally screwing up, and she told me that Nate was sent to me for a reason, and I am exactly the mom he needs. This made me cry (what doesn't make me cry...) and I have been working on remembering this sentiment when I'm not sure how many more nights of waking up a million times I can handle. I can handle all of them because I was hand selected for the job of loving this sweet baby in the middle of the night, and what a privilege it is to have that job.

In less emotional mom-news, I am going bald. Every time I wash my hair, I pull out giant handfuls of hair. I recently spent $600 on a stroller and I'm still getting sweaty palms just thinking about it. It's the Baby Jogger City Select, and it's pretty groovy. I spent like 4 hours playing with it and putting it in all of the different configurations, and now I have to have second kid someday since I have this radical double stroller. I've gotten pretty good at nursing in public, and nursing in front of my brothers and I've only completely flashed everyone one time. Going out with Nate no longer makes me panic, and in fact I rather enjoy running errands with my little buddy. I'm finally feeling like a real mom, and not like a really extended babysitter. I'm used to carrying a million things every time we go somewhere, I can unfold the stroller without saying too many bad words, and I think I look pretty good with a shoulder perpetually adorned with spit up. Taking care of Nate's basic needs is pretty second nature now, and mom life going pretty smoothly. Just in time for everything to change again. Because as a very wise friend once told me, the best and worst part about motherhood is that everything is a phase. The good stuff and the bad stuff are all temporary so buckle in and enjoy the ride!

Watch Nate grow:

 1 day

 1 month

 2 months

 3 months

4 months


I sure love you, Nate the Great.