Liam loves the bunnies

A couple weeks ago I took the afternoon off to take Liam to the pumpkin patch... and he fell in love with the bunnies.

Video Updates

Here are a few videos to show you just how big my guy has gotten (here a hint: in seven weeks, he'll be a TODDLER).

Liam in the bath at 9 1/2 months

Liam at 10 months

Bathtime as a Big Boy

Liam is 8-months old today.  Woop! and what?! at the same exact time.  To celebrate, I went to BB&B to get a bath mat (as well as sheets and pillows for our couch, but those impulse buys are unrelated) for Liam's first bath in the big boy tub.  I'm pretty sure he didn't notice, except for the awesome blue bubbles under his butt.

Here's hoping he likes the pool as much as he likes bathtime.

Totally Inappropriate

Preface:  I started this draft on February 2nd.  Today is May 14th.  That's just depressing.  Also, as a caveat to the .2 males that read my blog - I'm about to talk about boobs (and not in a fun way) and periods.

If you know me well, then you know this about me: Often times I am thinking about something that's too inappropriate to share out loud.  Sometimes I want so desperately to share my random musings on Facebook or Twitter (Twitter gets them more often - not many of my 'people' follow me Twits), but I just can't bring myself to subject the general public.  But I can sure share them on my blog!  Don't judge me.  Here are a few of the totally inappropriate things that run circles inside my brain:

A runny nose is a lot like breastfeeding boobies.  One side always producing more than the other.

You know you're a breastfeeding mom when in lieu of tampons, you carry breast pads in your purse.

You know you're a breastfeeding mom when your boobs are never, EVER the same size.  And we're talking, one is totally encroaching on the others personal space spacee different.  Or as Husband said, Big and Bigger.

Much like last busy season, I am sitting here with my jeans unbuttoned (on a Saturday).  Except this time I'm not pregnant.

Since we're on the topic, let's talk breastfeeding:

I'm still nursing (BOOM!).  I love it.  I never thought I would love it as much as I do. When Liam weans, I'm convinced it'll be harder for me than it will be for him (yes, you read that right - I don't have any plans to force wean... but we'll revisit that at a later date).  During busy season, I would be at work for 12 to 14 hours, during which I would pump three times.  I would come home in time to nurse Liam before bed and then work from home. Two words: pumping sucks. Currently, I pump twice at work.

At the onset of busy season, my supply was still far above what Liam needed.  As the weeks passed, it slowly began to regulate and decrease.  It never dipped below Liam's consumption, but it hovered right at consumption.

I got my first "real" period in April.  I was really hoping for more than seven months without, thanks to the nursing.  Your period is that friend that you tolerate because you've known them since elementary school, but you have nothing but the oxygen you breath in common.  It had been since November 2009, and I was none too happy to see my old pal again.  I noticed a couples days before her arrival that my milk supply majorly wained.  Hello panic mode.  And thank you, Google.  I took to the interweb and researched my heart out.  Somewhat common. But the return of my period really put a cramp (ha!) on my milk supply (not to mention my mood, my back, and my uterus). 

But I swear, post-real period my supply never returned to it's former glory.  I'm still able to match consumption, but just barely.  This is Liam's current schedule:

Nurse in the a.m. before work/daycare (I usually pump a few ounces before nursing)
Two 8-ounce bottles at daycare (I pump twice at work)
Maybe nurse right after work - it depends on when he had his last bottle at daycare
Nurse before bed

Liam also has a yogurt for breakfast, 6.5 ounces of veg for lunch, and 4 ounces of meat/veg and 4 ounces of fruit for dinner. 

Lately, I feel like my milk supply has continued to decrease.  The decrease is very gradual, but it's there.  I can't help but feel like my body is failing me. I'm having a hard time keeping my calorie consumption high enough (forcing yourself to eat isn't as fun as you'd think), and I've also started running.  I'm sure neither of those help the situation.  I pep-talk my body by saying, "I just need four more months.  Just four!"  Thankfully, we have 1200+ ounces in a deep freeze; but I never wanted to be in a situation to need it.    

Any suggestions for jump-starting my supply? 

I do have to say - running now versus four months ago is MUCH less painful.  The girls don't fill-up nearly as fast, so I don't feel the need to duct tape those puppies down.

Oh, and Liam bit me for the first time last week.  And it HURT.  I might have screamed a little, which of course surprised/terrified Liam.  Maybe that will deter him from doing it again? 

Remember me?

I am officially the worst.blogger.ever.  Don't get too excited - I'm posting this and then disappearing into the wild world of taxation until April 19th (don't EVEN get me started on the three extra days of busy season). I desperately miss rambling to no one about nothing in particular, but my priorities are currently aligned like so: (1) make sure Liam is fed, (2) work, (3) Husband (marriage status: on hold. DEPRESSING), (4) work, (5) laundry, clean, make Liam's food, (6) work, (7) sleep... and after about five more works, (13) blog.  So sad. 

As a quick update, here's the latest with Liam:

(1) We started pureed foods!!!  He currently loves: apples, pears, bananas, blueberries, squash, carrots, and sweet potatoes.  Weird that he only likes orange veggies, right? 

(2) Pureed foods = man poops for Liam.  I honestly miss the mustard days (breastfeeding mommies, you know just what I'm talking about!).  The first man poop signified leaving his baby stage behind.  I was NOT ready.

(3) Liam is rolling over!  He rolled-over for the first time about six weeks ago.  He'd roll over and then screech and scream because he couldn't go anywhere.  Now he has figured about how to inchworm his way forward, but he still screeches and screams along the way.

(4) Liam is sitting up unassisted!  For a little while, at least.  Eventually, he topples sideways.

(5) It's official: nothing is safe from his grasp anymore.  Going out to dinner has become increasingly difficult and utterly entertaining!

(6) Liam is a FLIRT, and he is still completely comfortable with strangers.  Good thing he doesn't like candy yet.

(7) He started sleeping on his side about a month ago.  And he loves to snuggle up to Mommy or Daddy, put his hand on one of our faces, and fall asleep.  I DIE.

(8) Liam slept in our bed with us for the first time this weekend.  He woke-up at 5:45 am on Sunday, ate, and then the three of us snuggled back into our bed.  Husband and I didn't get much sleep (SOMEONE is a wiggle worm), but Liam slept like a champ.  When he woke-up he was clearly excited to be in bed with us.  He was rolling back and worth like, "Oh, hey, Mom."  "Oh, hi, Dad!" "MOMMY!" "DADDY!"

(9) We are teething, but no teeth yet.  He's a drool monster.  Everything goes straight to his mouth (I am officially that mom with sani-wipes that wipes-down everything in sight). We can see the shape of his lower teeth through his gums, so I think we're close. 

(10) So far we've endured RSV and strep.  Next stop: a totally HEALTHY baby.  I am speaking it into existence (Hey, God, are you listening?!?).

(11) Every single day I fall more in love with that kid. 

See you in 42 days, friends!

Respiratory Something Virus

That's what husband and I called it for a few days before we finally looked-up the pronuciation guide online.  Resiratory SIN-SI-SHUL (Syncytial) Virus put my sweet boy threw the ringer. After a week and a half in daycare, Liam got sick. I was prepared for runny noses, but I was NOT prepared for this.

 It started with a small cough on Tuesday morning.  When he got home from daycare, the cough had turned wet (that's the only way I can think to describe it).  When I was burping him that night, and I heard/felt a vibration in his chest.  Knowing better than to mess with the lungs (especially when those longs are 13 weeks old), we decided to take L to the pediatrician the next morning (by we, I mean Husband was on daddy duty that day).  That night he coughed and snotted, coughed and snotted.

Following directions, Husband turned-off his phone while he was with the pediatrician (most of us would have turned our phone to vibrate, I'm just saying). After an hour and a half at the Peds, and after getting a million panicked phone calls and texts from me, Husband finally calls me with the news.  RSV.  To which I said, "Whaaa?" 

The Peds sent us home with a nebulizer and instructions of what to watch-out for.  The next couple days of my life consisted of watching Liam breathe, listening to him breathe, and trying to watch him breathe through our video monitor (which is really hard, by the way).  More often than not, he was wheezing when he breathed.  If we weren't using the nebulizer (which was every four hours when he was awake), we were sucking snot out of his nose.  Liam was remarkably cooperative with the nebulizer.  Each treatment took about 11 minutes.  By minute 9, his attention span would wane and one of us would dangle a toy in front of him or dance around like an idiot to keep him from melting down.  A couple of times, he had a meltdown anyway.  It broke my heart to see him so upset, but I figured he was taking-in extra medicine with all the wailing. Worse than the nebulizer was the snot by day three.  He was SO snotty.  Half the time he couldn't breathe out of his nose unless we used the bulb (my super technical term for it).  After a few days, his nose was so raw that he'd scream when we used it.  It was awful.  If we didn't use it, he couldn't breathe.  If we did use it, he screamed. 

Grammy trying to distract him.
After two nebulizer treatments on Saturday, he was still wheezing (the treatments usually made the wheezing go away).  It also looked like he was working breathe. We called the on-call nurse, who had the on-call doctor call us.  After five minutes of conversation, the doctor said, "I hate to do this to you, but I think you should go to the emergency room."  My heart has never hurt so badly in my life.  We got ourselves pulled-together, and headed to St. Mary's.  I guess they don't mess-around with babies because we didn't have to wait (as in, we never even had a chance to sit down).  After three hours in Peds (they really did call it Peds. I felt like I was inside Grey's Anatomy.  Minus all the sex and drama), lots of smiling and talking to the nurses and doctors, lots of crying because he was super tired by couldn't call asleep, and lots of refusing to eat because he was too tired, Liam was discharged.  We were now doing the nebulizer every two to four hours AROUND THE CLOCK. 

FINALLY fell alseep
I don't know if you've ever heard a nebulizer, but it's loud.  The Peds doc said we could do the night treatments while he was sleeping (just hold it over him face).  Right.  We'd turn-on the machine and Liam would immediately startle awake.  Who needs sleep anyway.
RSV is very contagious, so we obviously had to keep him out of daycare.  I worked from home some, Husband stayed home some, and Liam's Grammy (my mom) watched him some.  Between the three of us, we were able to keep him out of daycare through to Christmas.  And Husband was off the entire week after Christmas. 

By the Thursday before Christmas we were finally noticing some positive changes.  By Sunday we were cutting back the nebulizer treatments.  By the next Thursday his appetite returned (and we actually think he was in a growth spurt - 7 to 8 ounce bottles every time he ate), we didn't need to use the bulb, we weren't using the nebulizer, and we got our amiable kid back.

Throughout this whole ordeal, Liam remained remarkably happy.  It was amazing. Through all the snot, he'd still smile.  After a coughing fit he would immediately start talking.  He'd COUGH, COUGH, COUUUUGH, and go "UUUURGH!!!" in the cutest little 14-week old voice.  I'm so proud of how he handled it.  And I'm proud of how Husband and I handled it.  We leaned on each other, and we survived. 

Let me leave you with this:  Being a parent is NO JOKE.  You start worrying the second you find-out you're pregnant, and it only gets worse after they're born.  But there is nothing like it. 

So glad to have this kid back to normal!

Wait, It's 2011?!?!

Wasn't the world supposed to end 11 years ago?  Boy am I glad it didn't.

There are a lot of New Years resolution posts circulating the blog world.  In the past, I've never been much of a resolution person. When I was in high school I'd make a resolution (or ten) for something impossibly attainable for no reason other than to make a resolution because everyone else was.  It's been years since I've made one. 

There's something about being a mom that changes you.  Not in a "I gave birth to a baby, and my new name is Mom" kind of a way.  We're talking alters you to the core kind of a change.  I want to BE better.  I want to LIVE better.  I have a big reason to do everything better.  Well, two.  Which added together equal one family. 

In the spirit of being better, I've (we've) decided to make a few resolutions this year.  And I use "resolutions" loosely.  These are more like goals.  I won't hate myself if I haven't achieved them in 365.  These are aspirations of being BETTER. For him, him, and Him.  Oh, and for me.

Family goal:

No fast food for a year.  We eat fast food about once a month, so this shouldn't be too hard.  The point of this for us is to make ourselves choose healthy, more real options, even when we're in a hurry.  I want fast food to be a MAJOR treat for Liam, not something we grab every Saturday when we're out running errands.

Personal goals:

Make taking care of myself a priority.  I haven't been exercising.  I have been eating all that well.  I haven't been taking time to just see and be, read a book, just tune out.  I haven't gone shopping for clothes that fit me and make me feel good. As much as I want to spend every waking second in my son's presence, I HAVE to do things for myself.  For both of our sakes.  Also, I miss running.  But I miss RUNNING.  Not this Couch to 5K crap I have to do right now.  But to get back to the running I love, I have to get through the first weeks of getting back into shape.  I also need to get a REALLY good sports bra.  I'm thinking the Ta Ta Tamer

Take more pictures of our life and make sure that I'm in them.  I'm one of those people who loves to take pictures when we're home, but I forget to take pictures when we're with family or out doing something fun.  Since I'm always taking pictures, I'm rarely in them.  I don't want to look-back in 18 years and realize that I was in five pictures a year.

Find a church home.  We want to find our "fit." Somewhere look forward to going every weekend.  Part of this goal is to also get in the church habit.  I want my son to grow-up going to church, participating in Sunday school, and kids choir.  Those are some of my fondest memories from my childhood. 

Make new friends.  Making new friends is hard for me.  I'm a naturally shy person.  But we don't know many people with kids, and we want play dates and sleep overs (not for us, Silly, for Liam). 

Blog more.  I miss my blog.  Just saying that makes me feel sad.  It has been a source of such joy for me since it's inception  (good movie, by the way).  But it's hard to make time for it when you have a household to run, a family to feed, a job, and two great guys to spend time with.  This goal will be hardest over the next three and a half months (during busy season), but hopefully I can do it.  Even if I just do a picture dump.  Or bullet points about our week.

Husband's goal:

Take more pictures.  For Husband, life gets in the way of taking pictures every day.  It's his passion, so this year he decided to make it a priority. 

Do you think the Big Guy would be willing to add a few extra hours to every day?  I'll let you know what he says.