4 weeks old...

I'm a little late posting this... because I have a two year old and a newborn... which makes proper blogging down-right impossible. However, I figured I had better write this up before he turns 16 and I forget everything that is going on in this sleep deprived haze of a life we're living...

Length: No clue... will update at the two month check up. 

Weight: 7 lbs. 14 oz.

Feeding Schedule: He's eating 3 1/2 ounces every 3 or so hours during the day and goes a little longer at night. We had to give up breastfeeding when he was losing weight and I've just been pumping and giving him breast milk in bottles. I've tried to re-introduce him to nursing these last few days and he isn't having it... apparently it's WAY too much work compared to the easy life of a bottle. It breaks my heart because I really, really wanted it to work out this time around. I'll keep trying but I foresee a lot of time spent with this stupid breast pump in the next several months.  
Sleeping Schedule: I complain a lot about being tired but really we're getting pretty decent sleep. He goes down somewhere between 10pm and 11pm each night, depending on when it's time to eat and usually sleeps until 3am. He eats and goes back to sleep until around 6am when Derek gets up for work. I feed him and try to put him back down but usually we end up watching TV in bed until it's time to go for our jog. He's not really a fan of the morning hours and is pretty grumpy until about noon. After noon he likes to nap away the afternoon in-between feedings. Then, it's bedtime again... rinse and repeat. 
Milestones: Starting to hold his head up and looking around, tracking objects with his eyes, cooing {SO sweet!}...
Best Moment This Month: There have been too many this month to count... giving birth {I know that probably sounds like something that isn't fun but honestly, even with all the pain and anxiety it is the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced}, meeting Cohen for the first time, watching Addison become a big sister, falling in love with a child all over again..
Loves: Snuggling, naps, clean diapers {so he can fill them up}, the sound of the shower, holding our fingers while he eats...
Hates: Car seats, burping, pooping, being swaddled, waking up, the mid-morning hours, not being held...
What We're Looking Forward To: That first genuine smile :)

I remember holding Addison and trying to memorize how tiny her feet were and promising myself I'd never forget... this time around, I'm taking evidence. His little feet fit against my thumbs!

Waking up is hard to do...

Home...

is where the heart is wants to be... 

The wheels have finally been set in motion for us to leave our tiny little house, in our tiny little development and move into something that we've been dreaming of for years. We seem to have found a 2-acre piece of land in Moxee that we both love AND can afford as well as a floor plan of a 2500 sq. foot house that we both like {pictures below are of a model of that plan in our development... the interior colors, fixtures, etc, are NOT what I'm in love with... but we'll get to customize later in the process...}. 

There are still a lot of obstacles in front of us - getting financing figured out, selling our current home, living in limbo while the new place is built, moving... the list goes on and on... but for the first time since 2004, we are looking to make a serious real estate investment and I couldn't be more excited {and nervous}. So, fingers crossed that we get good news about acquiring either a land loan or an owner carried contract on the piece we like {or a rich uncle steps forward and gifts us the land... any takers?? Didn't think so...}. If that works out, the rest will start to fall into place pretty quickly... 

Granite counter tops, stainless appliances, and walk-in closet... HERE I COME!!!!

 

Doing it all... or not.

Le sigh...

It would appear that, despite my best efforts, I am not a superhero. Dammit. While this may be old news to some of you, it's a bit of a shock to me. While I was still pregnant with Cohen I thought I had it all figured out - I came up with a cleaning plan that would allow me to do a little each day {a new concept for me} to keep the house spiffy without having to dedicate an entire day to cleaning on the weekends. It made sense, especially with a toddler, to spread out the cleaning love throughout the week. In my pregnant brain I also believed it would be a piece of cake {mmmm.... cake....} to continue once the bebe arrived. I mean, newborns sleep ALL. THE. TIME. right??

{Yes, in just two and a half short years, I forgot what having a newborn is like...}

So, for the first few weeks, I did it. Mind you, I had my parents or Derek here the whole time so Cohen was always being fed, snuggled, changed, and entertained even if it wasn't by yours truly. Then my parents flew away to Arizona and Derek trudged off to work and I found myself home alone, trying to entertain a new baby. Let me tell you, my plan failed. I don't have enough energy time to clean a specific area of the house each day. Honestly, I'm feeling pretty bad-ass for simply making the rounds and continuing the 'quick pick up' routine that accompanied my cleaning schedule. But clean-cleaning each day... it ain't gonna happen. Basically it came down to this - I have enough time and energy to either get my workout in OR clean my house each day - but not both. I made the decision last night to put myself ahead of my housework and spend my energy taking care of baby and trying to get back into shape {with the nagging hope that getting back into shape will equal more energy which will then equal getting my housework done... but we'll see}.

The original plan...

Monday: Clean master bedroom and bathroom {dust, vacuum, change sheets/towels, clean shower, etc}
Tuesday: Clean kids rooms and extra bathroom {dust, vacuum, change sheets/towels, clean tub, etc}
Wednesday: Clean dining room & deck {dust, vacuum, clean windows, sweep deck}
Thursday: Clean kitchen
Friday: Clean living room, entry, and laundry room
Weekend: Wash clothes and do yard work

Quick pick up: Each night - wipe counter tops in kitchen & bathrooms, swiffer kitchen floor, laundry {as needed}, put away toys, filing, etc. 

Maybe you can see why it's not working when I have someone who is either needing to be cuddled {NOT complaining}, changed {complaining a little} or fed. So, I'm making a change... here is the new, modified, mommy-of-two plan...

Every day: Quick pick up {wipe counter tops in kitchen & bathrooms, swiffer kitchen floor, laundry & vacuuming {as needed}, put away toys, filing, etc.}


1st & 3rd weekend of each month - Clean bedrooms and bathrooms
2nd & 4th weekend of each month - Clean dining, kitchen, and living rooms

I feel like if I keep up on the daily routine that I can spread out the deep cleaning to every other week instead of every week. I have no idea when I will cram yard work in or how this will work with Addison home on the weekends but at least I'll have Derek around for help wrangling the little people in our lives.

So... there you have it. I'm not a super hero. I guess I'm okay with that. But if you stop by for a visit and my house isn't clean - no judging. If you want to see a clean house, schedule it according to the plan above. =]

{And, just for fun... Cohen has been conked out in his swing for the last 90 minutes which has allowed me to shower, pick up, blog, AND talk to my bestest friend for a bit... see, I used my down time wisely...} 

Humbled...

I was going to have a tantrum today.

I was going to post about how hard my day was - first day home alone with the new baby, trying to get a workout in, keep up on housework, and still be a good mama and give my boy all the loves he needs. He was fussy this morning and from 5am on it was a dance of cuddling and pumping and feeding and changing and rocking and burping and then PRAYING he'd go back to sleep long enough for me to get a few Zzzzz's in. I gave up on the concept at 10:30 and slowly got us ready and out the door for a jog [IN THE RAIN]. We got home and I got all pumped up to do my first Shred workout but had to hop back and forth between rocking Cohen in his carseat and having Jillian chew me out for taking breaks. Then I cleaned the master bedroom as fast as I could, picked up most of the house, and spent the rest of the afternoon feeding, pumping, cuddling, burping, [getting HURLED on], and changing my sweet little boy.

I was grumbling a little, visualizing this routine lasting for the next three months and wishing for just a teeny dash of normalcy in my day. I was writing up a blog in my head talking about how much harder it is to be a SAHM than a working mom, how I miss work and routine, and blah blah blah. While I was rocking Cohen after his mid-afternoon snack I snuck on my phone and checked my Google-reader to see if I was missing out on anything. I don't get to keep up on my blog reading like I used to and I wanted to make sure nothing major had happened in the world of the interwebs.

And I read this post. And I realized what an asshole I am for complaining about how hard my life is.

I've been following Jenn's posts since I was pregnant with Addison, I followed along as her twins were conceived despite huge odds, as she lost the healthy twin the day before delivery, and as her surviving baby struggled for the last 17 months in the NICU. And now she has to bury her baby. Suddenly everything fell into perspective for me... I have a healthy baby boy and a thriving little girl, my biggest concern is how to fill my spare time and keep the crumbs off my floors. I stress out because my laundry piles up and because I forget to shower. But my children are alive and healthy and safe... and that is really all that matters.

So, I won't have a tantrum today. I won't be selfish enough to think my life is hard enough to warrant a tantrum. Instead, I'll be thankful for each time I get spit up on, for every time I get woken up during the night, for every fit Addison throws when she can't have any more apple juice. I'll be thankful and I'll count my blessings - and any time I start to feel sorry for myself I will remember that I'm lucky just to have these two tiny people in my life.

Mirror, mirror...

I've always had issues with body image... but this is ridiculous.

The day I found out I was pregnant I weighed 117 pounds. Nine months later, on the day Cohen was born, I weighed in at 159 pounds. I should be happy because that is 15 pounds less than I gained with Addison. I didn't document my postpartum weight loss with Addison but I do [vividly] remember that at her baptism [one month postpartum]I crammed myself into some pre-pregnancy slacks and had to leave them unzipped and unbuttoned. After the baptism, one of my relatives came up and congratulated me on 'almost having my figure back'. I know that she meant well but it was like a dagger in my heart. I don't want to hear that I look good 'considering I just had a baby' or all of the other things people say when they don't know how to address the fact that I'm no longer pregnant but also not nearly back to my normal self.

Three weeks after having Cohen I am weighing in at 139 pounds. I am trying to figure out how to lose this weight the healthy way. When I look in the mirror I am disgusted. I hate the image that is looking back at me. I won't lie - the thought of carving the fat off my body with a kitchen knife has crossed my mind. When I go jogging I can feel the flab bouncing around, when I look in the mirror all I see is fat, my clothes don't fit - in short, I am disgusted with myself. I know that severe calorie reduction isn't an option because I'm nursing but that has always been my go to method. I've started jogging [just this week] and am going to add in more exercises this week but so far the scale hasn't budged. I want it gone. NOW.

I hate that I'm writing this post and that I'm having these thoughts because the one thing I never want to pass on to my daughter is my obsession with the scale. I know that my self-esteem shouldn't be tied to the numbers on the scale, but it is. I know that I should say that as long as I'm healthy that is all that matters, but it's not true. I starved myself for years to stay thin and it's something that I don't want to battle again but those are the thoughts that creep into my mind at times like this. I don't want to be a bad example for my children. I want to be fit and healthy and THIN. I want to fit back into my favorite jeans. I don't want to tear up when I turn sideways and look in the mirror.

I am getting rid of this weight. Starting now. 

A year...

It's been a year since I lost the baby.

I have been thinking about writing this post for months - wondering what I would say or how I would feel on this sad anniversary. Now that it's here and I'm staring at the cursor blinking on a blank screen I realize that there aren't words for me to explain the loss and pain that we experienced a year ago. It's simply something that, unless you have been through yourself, you cannot comprehend. We lost a child a year ago - a parent's worst fear realized. I learned what true heartbreak feels like, what it means to lose more than you can handle, and how precious life truly is. Beyond that, I can't articulate how I've felt this year - I can simply say that losing our baby was the most painful, heart wrenching experience of my existence and that the only thing that has eased the pain at all is the passing of time. It won't ever go away - I understand that now and I'm glad for it. I don't want to forget our baby or forget how difficult it was to lose him. I feel like I can honor his memory in that way - by appreciating how much I loved him without ever meeting him.

I found this poem on another blog, I'm not sure of the original source but I think that it's beautiful and it gives me some comfort as I look back...

"These are my footprints,
so perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints
never touched the ground at all.
Not one tiny footprint,
for now I have wings.
These tiny footprints were meant
for other things.
You will hear my tiny footprints,
in the patter of the rain.
Gentle drops like angel's tears,
of joy and not from pain.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you,
if you just give me the chance.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind,
and call each one that grieves.
Most of all, these tiny footprints,
are found on Mommy and Daddy's hearts.
'Cause even though I'm gone now,
We'll never truly part."

8 days old... and so stinking cute!