Vacation! With Kids

I’m not sure when or where this agreement was made, or who was in charge of all of the children in the world when it happened, but at some point they decided that the only opportune time to get sick would be days before a vacation.

Three days before leaving for a friend’s wedding in Florida with the whole family, I was standing in the pediatrician’s office with Big Bro after his fever hit 104.7. It’s the second time he’s had a fever above 103. It’s the second time he’s had a fever above 103 the day before a planned vacation. It’s the second time that fever was his only symptom of sickness, and it disappeared just as unexpectedly as it started. Thank goodness!

With Big Bro’s fever gone one day into our Florida vacation, we were free to have a great time with both boys seeing family and friends!

We started out in Jacksonville spending time with Big Bro’s godfather and family, and visiting with cousins:

Then we drove down to St Pete Beach for the wedding festivities:

Grandmama and Buelo even drove down to meet us and hang out at the beach!

Of course, travelling with an Arizona 3-year-old also means I get to field some new questions about the subtle differences he noticed about life outside the desert. Those questions included the following:

Why is it raining?

Why is it windy?

When will the wind stop?

Why is it so cold?

Luckily, from my days filling in for our chief meteorologist during my career as a news reporter, I had enough weather knowledge to answer most of those. Not sure if he fully grasped the concepts of air currents and coastal convergence though.

Overall, both boys had a wonderful time! Totally worth the fact that two weeks later we’re still trying to bet Baby Bro’s sleep schedule back on track. At nine months, he likes: clapping, army crawling, standing up and cruising, eating, playing with his brother, being outdoors, and so much more!

He dislikes: being on his back, and sleeping through the night.

To My Threenager with Love, and Vengeance

Children are amazing, loving, curious, hilarious, wonderful people that warm our hearts and give us renewed priorities and purpose. They are reflections of our own personalities. They are gifts. But sometimes, they are the worst.

A final tantrum at the end of a long day, an early morning wake up call demanding breakfast in a tone I’d never dare use with my own parents, or a display of stubborn persistence in front of total strangers, are just some of the things that have had me turning to my better half and plotting a unique revenge.

You see, I have just 12 short years to plan the easiest way to get even. Just wait for the awkward, self-conscious teen years. Just you wait.

I will be the most embarrassing mother the world has ever seen. I will print t-shirts with your photo on it and wear them to all of your athletic events. And I won’t use a current picture. I’ll use that adorable photo from your first bath. I’ll wake you up every morning just as the sun peers over the horizon with that bowl of cereal you’ve been screaming about. I’ll give you hugs and kisses in front of all your friends. I will cheer the loudest, tell the punniest jokes, and brag and exaggerate to everyone about everything you do.

I get it, you have rough days. It’s hard being three. Everything is new, nothing is built for you, and you don’t know how to manage when you’re hungry, tired or adjusting to change.

But there’s one thing that will never change. I’m your mother and I’ll always love you. Even through the meltdowns, I will love you. When you’re at your worst, I will love you harder. And if that means through your teen years you’ll be embarrassed by it, well then that’s just an added bonus I can look forward to.

While Big Bro is busy with all of the ups and downs of being three, Baby Bro is now eight months old!

At 8 months, he likes: scooting everywhere, pulling to stand, playing with his bro, taking baths, babbling, snuggling, smiling, eating and being outside.

He dislikes: diaper changes and teething.

It’s Not a Purse, It’s a Pump

Any working mom who chooses to breastfeed for any extended period of time knows the feeling. You’re walking down the hallway in the office, carrying a subtle-but-not-so-fashionable bag filled with bottle parts, cups, tubing and everything you need to express and store milk for your baby without letting on. A coworker sees you, smiles and says, “see you tomorrow!”

We may look like the most lackadaisical employees, running in and out or around the building with a bag flung over our shoulder like we’re trying to make a quick exit. But it’s not a purse, it’s a pump.

When we get questioned by our coworkers and answer too frankly, it’s the ultimate conversation shutdown. “What’s in the bag?” “A pump.” Red faces and wide eyes stutter for their next syllable and we laugh because to us the topic isn’t uncomfortable at all.

We’ve made breastfeeding a priority and we’re lucky enough to be able to feed our babies this way. I’m lucky enough to work in a place that provides support and a nice quiet room complete with Ann Geddes photos. Other moms I know have to make due with an empty conference room, an office, or even a bathroom stall, stringing an extension cord for the task. Some even have to pump in their car during a commute. Like I said, we made it a priority.

When we look at our watch in a meeting it’s not (always) because we’re bored and looking to leave. We live in 3-hour increments. Our babies are elsewhere but they’re always on our minds. We know when they eat and sleep. We try to keep track of how much. We try to pump enough.

When we can’t, we go through great lengths to make more. We eat fenugreek and smell like maple syrup, or we bake cookies with oats and brewers yeast or drink dark beer and follow all the wives’ tales.

We’re professional when it comes to pouring because every drop of the hard-earned milk counts and when you’re away from your baby you can never have too much. We know whoever said the colloquialism “don’t cry over spilled milk” was not a breastfeeding mother.

We balance our day with these breaks and manage time accordingly. We work smarter and faster because we know in our society this task is not a welcome excuse. We know it’s not pretty. It’s not fun. But that glass won’t shatter itself and mommy can’t be in two places at once.

Here’s to seven months of breastfeeding and four months of pumping, and to all of the other moms out there hustling too. Here’s to the cookies we bake… here’s to the mess we hope not to make… here’s to those “purses” we take.

At 7 months, Baby Bro likes playing with his kuya, tasting new fruit, racing toy cars, pulling up to stand, scooting everywhere he wants to go, and being held by mommy.

He dislikes ear infections, teething, and going to sleep.

School Days

In Arizona, August doesn’t mean the end of summer heat. It’s not even close. Last year I had to cut off the sleeves of Big B’s Halloween costume to cool it down. I used to associate an autumn chill in the air, colored leaves and colored crayons as the end of summer signified the beginning of a new school year. Maybe that’s why this caught me off guard.

Last week, Big B had his very first day of preschool. And the only tears were mine.

We arrived early to make sure he had time to settle in. I packed healthy snacks in a lunchbox that matched his backpack, made sure he had his water bottle, some extra clothes, and everything else I’d meticulously prepped the night before along with his first day of school outfit. I’d combed his hair and we took his photo and held his hand all the way to the door. Just before he set out to meet the other kids at the playground he gave a half-hearted hug, said “Bye mommy!” and ran off.

I only cried a little. And in truth, I’m so excited for him and this new adventure starting school. That first day we went out to lunch afterwards with his Lola and Papu. B talked about circle time, singing songs, and making friends. When I asked what their names are he replied, “the kid in the black shirt.”

I guess we’ll have to keep working on those social skills. But now that he’s in school, he’ll get plenty of practice.

Meanwhile, Baby Bro is celebrating his half birthday! At six months old, he is 19lbs, 27inches.

He likes: eating everything mommy makes for him (except kale), hugs, blowing raspberries on my face, trying to crawl, playing with his brother, playing in the pool or tub, and so much more.

He dislikes: being left alone, and sleep.

The Cleanest Floor on the Planet

I’m writing this blog on my phone with a sleeping baby in my arms. When you’re a mom, you learn how to do a lot while holding a sleeping baby. You might also find yourself violently angry at anything that would wake that baby after all the work you put into getting it to sleep. At this point I would cut our mailman so fast he wouldn’t even have time to think about why ringing our doorbell was a fatal mistake. I have paced, bounced, rocked, sang, and briefly even Gregorian chanted to finally achieve this coveted thing we call a nap. The four month sleep regression arrived on time just as it did with Big Bro when he was a Baby B. Some parents say the regression lasts a few weeks and then baby starts developing a sleep pattern and going back to its normal rhythms. Those parents are what I like to call liars.

From my experience, the four month sleep regression turns into a 6-month regression, then 9-month and so on until they head off to preschool. Baby makes a big developmental mental leap, and then mobile and mental milestones cascade one after another so quickly that you just resolve to kiss the prospect of sleep goodbye and go along with the ride, wide-eyed and holding on. Its my opinion that if there were a secret recipe for getting a baby to sleep, there’d only be one book about it. So, I do whatever works.

In Baby Bro’s case, that means wearing him in his ergo carrier while vacuuming the floor. It’s a little weird and it’s always my last resort, but when I’m at my rope’s end and can’t take any more rocking, singing, or swaying, I turn on that blessed white noise making device and it works. Every. Single. Time.

Then, when he’s finally quiet and snuggly and comfy in my arms, I look down at my baby boy and whisper the reassuring yet terrifying mantra of motherhood: This too shall pass.

At 5 months, Baby Bro likes: smiling, giggling, taking toys from his big brother, floating in the pool, playing in his exersaucer, practicing sitting up, putting everything in his mouth, snuggling his blankie, being in mommy or daddy’s arms, and so much more.

He dislikes: sneezes and naps.

Pause

For about a month now I’ve been waking up, feeding Baby Bro, feeding myself, feeding Toddler B if he’s up, and then driving to the office to realize I forgot something (cell phone, breast pump, bottles, badge, the occasional no make-up day, and once I nearly left the house without shoes.) While at work, the boys have been having adventures at home with Drew’s parents or sister, depending on who is doing what that day. After work we get home, get dinner started and do a few chores, all while feeding, changing, rocking, wrangling, and whatever else it takes to get a three-year-old and three-month-old fed, clean and off to bed. Life as a family of four with two working parents is… busy.

It’s easy, especially in a sleep-deprived state, to slip into autopilot and zombie through the week. While my job keeps a good pace and variation, the routine of home can come and go like a commute. Sometimes you see your garage door opening and realize you don’t remember half the drive. A couple weeks ago as I walked into the house from that garage, I picked up a fussy baby boy and started rocking him to sleep while Drew started dinner. He fell asleep quickly and I got ready to put him into his crib. Then, I stopped.

I listened. Drew and Toddler B were happily working together in the kitchen to make dinner. The rest of the house was quiet. I thought about the laundry that needed folding, the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the rest in the machine ready to put away. I thought about the toys all over the floor of the playroom. I looked at the sleeping baby in my arms, and I sat down.

I sat and rocked and watched his cute little face and his chubby little cheeks. He snuggled in, happy to be in mommy’s arms again. My phone was in my purse and nowhere near my mind. The laundry, dishes, and mess could wait. Dinner was at least 20 minutes away. I just sat there, holding my baby. He’s growing so fast it’s as if I could see it if I sat still long enough. Eventually, I placed him gently in his crib and joined the busy big boy and dad, started dinner and later, the dishes.

I’ve heard time goes by even more quickly with a second child and I can see why. We’re so busy with the first and with our lives, that we only really get to soak it all in if we think to stop. To hit pause. And sit still enough to watch our baby grow.

At four months, Baby Bro weighs 16lbs 15oz and is 26 inches tall.

He likes: to roll over onto his tummy, playing with his big brother, grabbing his pacifier, reading books, waking up, songs, the sound of the shower, and mommy and daddy.

He dislikes: when the dog shakes, and riding in the car.

Baby’s First Tour

With just a couple of weeks left of my maternity leave, we decided to take Baby Bro to my hometown to visit my side of the family. That’s right. We voluntarily packed up our three-year-old and 10-week-old and took them on a non-stop flight across the country. Ever hold your breath for four and a half hours? Well, it worked. They were both perfect angels!

Baby Bro got to meet his uncle, aunt, cousins, Papa, Nana, Grandmama, Buelo, and my grandmother, his “Grammy.” What a wonderful time he had snuggling and babbling at all of those doting grandparents! Meanwhile, Big Bro was having a blast with his cousins at the petting zoo, playground, play place, and more. I even got to celebrate my birthday with my mom’s angel food cake with chocolate frosting- a tradition I hadn’t experienced in a decade.

It was wonderful to spend time with family and friends, and a rare opportunity to get everyone in one beautiful photo:

Soon enough it was back to Arizona and for me, back to work. My maternity leave ended as Baby Bro turned three months old.

At three months, he likes: smiling, songs, being outside, trying to roll both ways, eating, being tickled, and his brother.

He dislikes: Being startled and garlic.

Rescuers, Train Wrecks and a Happy Spider

One of the most rewarding experiences as a mom and as a creative with a vivid imagination, has been witnessing the way toddler B’s imagination takes over. As a kid, I would’ve much rather played outside as a fairy or witch or power ranger than watch tv or play video games. B seems to be following suit, pretending the day away and making up elaborate storylines and characters to go with it. It’s been one of my favorite parts of being on maternity leave; watching as he creates his own world within our playroom. One moment he’s a firefighter spraying out the blaze on the sofa, the next he’s towing away wreckage from a train crash on his train table, or selling me vegetables in his grocery store.

He even has an imaginary friend. It’s an ironic one for a 3-year-old whose father has a bit of arachnophobia. B’s friend “Happy Spider” has been a part of our household for several months. It’s a small black spider, about the size of his hand. He joins us for meals, drives B’s toy cars around, rides with him on his bike, and takes naps when baby bro has to sleep. When he first arrived, I thought he slept with B, so I offered to tuck him in. B looked at me like I was crazy and replied “he’s at home in his cave.” I’ve since learned happy spider has a family of his own, but they haven’t been to our house. (Thank God, because I don’t know if we can take any more spiders, real or imaginary)

Sometimes Happy Spider even makes an appearance around friends who are non-imaginary. This week at the playground, B was playing with some new friends and I overheard him tell them that happy spider was coming too. I couldn’t help but notice it was Happy Spider who was afraid to climb all the way to the second level of the playground, not Toddler B. It reminds me of Big Bird and Snuffleupagus. I just hope this figment of B’s imagination stays imaginary!

Complications

First, I’d like to clarify, I’m very lucky. When it comes to breastfeeding, both of my boys latched right away, drank like they’re on the sidelines of an NFL game, and I haven’t had to supplement so far with Baby Bro, never had to in the year I nursed Toddler B. But anyone whose done it knows- breastfeeding is hard. Even for those for which it comes easy- it’s hard.

It’s a team sport where baby and momma work together in a game set by instinct and biology. For baby it means putting in demand for milk production before growth spurts and working hard to learn a brand new digestive system. For mom it’s eating healthy, eating enough, and drinking water like never before. Here in the desert, I get to double down on that last one. Which is why when I got food poisoning after five successful weeks of nursing, I got hit hard. A nursing baby is draining a moms fluid. When mom can’t even keep down water, that’s a big problem.

After 12 hours without being able to keep anything down, and losing nearly 5lbs, we made the decision to go to the ER so I could replenish some fluid and continue my breastfeeding journey. Ironically, after all that preparation and pain management to have a successfully needle-free labor and delivery; here I was hooked up to an I.V. With some anti-nausea meds and rehydration, everything went back to normal. Including my hungry baby boy.

At 8 weeks, baby is growing so quickly! He likes: being outside, his brother, smiling at mommy, listening to songs, playing with daddy, the octopus toy on his play mat, his cousins, and so much more!

He dislikes: tummy time, but he quickly solved that issue by learning to roll over!

Party of Four

To new mothers, they all say “sleep when the baby sleeps.” But what do you do when the baby is sleeping, and your 3-year-old baby is wide awake and running around the house playing chase with the dog, seconds from waking your baby baby? That, I’ve quickly learned, is life with two.

Baby Bro is one month old today and already making our noisy, hectic house feel more complete. His little coos, adorable expressions and sleepy snuggles have made me fall in love and it’s not just me. His older brother is absolutely infatuated! Toddler B wants to help whenever and however possible. He hands me clean diapers during changing, comforts him when he starts to cry, and doesn’t want to leave his side. It has made naptime very interesting, if nonexistent.

It hasn’t all been snuggles and cuddles. Toddler B is transitioning from being an only child to sharing the spotlight. Combined with the fact that he’s now officially a “threenager,” it means he’s taken negotiating to a new level. Every time I tell him “no” I catch a glimpse of his future as an attorney. Bringing home a newborn also means transitioning as parents from one potty-trained child who can articulate his every need, to diapering, crying and guessing- is he hungry? Sleepy? Gassy? Thankfully the answers to those questions come more easily the second time around.

We’ve been a family of four for one month now and though it takes a bit of adjustment, it feels as if we were always waiting for Baby Bro to arrive and multiply the happiness in our home.

At one month, Baby Bro likes: sleeping, playing on his play mat, listening to his brother sing songs, being outside, and snuggling.

He dislikes: garlic, we think.