How Old Would You Be?

The other day - Monday, actually - I was at my sister's house and reading an article in one of her magazines. The article wasn't very good, but the shrink in the piece posed a very interesting question that has had me thinking ever since I read it:

If you didn't know your age, how old would you say you were?

Very intriguing. I'm not sure, exactly. So I immediately began rationalizing.

I have a closet full of stilettos, Boden clothing and Kate Spade handbags. Young.

I also haven't been to a mall in months and get excited about going to Target. Definitely old.

I am energetic and can keep up with my toddler and 5-week-old. Young.

I watch The Golden Girls on a regular basis. Old.

My iPod is loaded with songs played at the hottest clubs. Young.

I would rather stay home and watch Sex and the City for the millionth time and eat my weight in popcorn than go to those clubs and listen to said music. Old.

My babysitter has no clue who Fleetwood Mac is and believes with all her heart that the Dixie Chicks are the original group to perform "Landslide." Dammit! Old.

I can't remember the last time I was carded. Old.

I laugh a lot, work hard and play harder. My heart is youthful and I eat healthfully, for the most part. Young.

So basically, what I have here is my true age of 31. Maybe slightly older for the whole Fleetwood Mac incident. But I'm feeling pretty good right now and know that age is just a number. I know 80-year-olds who could run circles around me. I also know 20-somethings who act like they're 60. You're only as old as you think you are, so how old would you be?

Ian's First Month

Ava sitting next to Ian during tummy time.

Ian napping.

I was supposed to post this on January 22, when Ian actually turned one month old. But that didn't happen, for the obvious reasons.

Ian's first month was, in my opinion, a very typical first month for a newborn. He ate. He slept. He pooped. A lot. We brought him home on Christmas Eve (thank goodness Santa was prepared!), and the first couple of weeks were good, with the exception of him getting his days and nights mixed up for 4-5 days. The first week or two at home is relatively easy if you ask me because babies sleep so much. Ian woke up to eat and then went back to sleep immediately after a good burp. We had to wake him for most feedings. This was great because it allowed for Stefan and I to give some extra TLC to Ava, who still really didn't get what was actually happening to her world. Things got significantly more challenging for us when Ian hit two weeks and started spending a considerable more amount of time awake. We were instructed by the doctor to keep Ian at home with the exception of doctor's appointments until flu season passed, so one of our biggest challenges has been dealing with the cabin fever - especially for Ava. After a week of being at home and in the same surroundings without any change of scenery, we all get a little crazy. My weekly outings to Walmart, Target and Publix on the weekends are treasured errands and I am sure to take Ava with me. Stefan understands my predicament and offers to watch Ian so us girls can get out of the house for a few hours. Although it's just Target, it is incredibly refreshing to just be out and about.

Ian is gaining weight very rapidly. I'm not sure what he's up to now, but my guess is about 8 pounds. He hit a growth spurt at 2 1/2 weeks, but it doesn't seem like he's ended it. He just keeps eating and eating and eating. Right now, he eats 3 ounces every 2.5 hours (every 3 at night), and this is a lot more than what an "average" baby his weight eats. They say babies should eat about 2 to 2.5 ounces for every pound in a 24 hour period. This means Ian should be eating about 16 - 20 ounces every 24 hours, and that's if he weighs 8 pounds (and I'm not sure he does). But he's taking roughly 25 - 27 ounces a day. He'd probably drink more if I let him. Stefan very graciously gives Ian his late-evening bottle so I can get a shower and a jump start on some sleep. Even with two middle-of-the-night feedings, I am still able to get about 6 hours of sleep, which is awesome in my book. We are experimenting with different strategies to see if we can get it down to one middle-of-the-night feeding, but so far, nothing has worked. He's just so hungry, but his little tummy can't handle more than 3 ounces at a time. Unfortunately, I was unable to continue breastfeeding beyond the first two weeks. It was very difficult for me to let that go because I really enjoyed it and Ian seemed more content with his meals when he did nurse. Plus, it was cheaper! But I found that we were beginning to go down the same path with Ian that we did with Ava. I nursed Ava for 5 months, but it was a horrible struggle for both of us and a lot of things got better with Ava once we switched her to formula at 5 months. So when I saw the same things happening with Ian, I immediately switched to formula. I wish I could say I have no regrets about it, but I do. I really wanted breastfeeding to work with Ian. But he's fed and nourished, so I have to get over it.

The only major frustration I have right now is diaper changes. Those of you with boys already know what I am talking about. We can't go one day without at least one or two clothing changes due to accidental squirts. As streamlined as we've made the diaper-changing routine, we can't seem to escape the day without one complete wardrobe change. We've tried everything. Pee-Pee Tee-Pees don't work. Yes, they prevent mom and dad from getting a face full, but they don't prevent Ian's clothes from getting drenched. We tried using some gauze pads when we were caring for Ian's circumcision, but he soon started to leak right through those. We even tried washcloths, but those didn't work for two reasons: 1) they were large and interfered with us cleaning the rest of his bum and applying diaper rash ointment, and 2) he eventually started to leak through those, too. When we start a diaper change, it is a race against the clock to see if we can get his old diaper off, his bum cleaned and dried, and a fresh layer of diaper cream (or tush paste, as we here in the Blum home refer to it) applied before he pees. We are usually successful, but those one or two times a day that we're not, it's very frustrating. Especially when one of those times is during one of his middle-of-the-night changes. Anyone with advice, please chime in.

Ian is focusing on my face and objects that are held in front of him. He can hold his head up briefly if I have him on my chest or on the floor for tummy time. He HATES being naked for any period of time, which makes bath time not so much fun. Speaking of baths, we give him his baths every three days in the evenings. Sometimes, if we miss a day, we'll give it to him the following morning and Ava "helps" by standing next to me on a chair and swooshing the water around in the bath tub. He's had a little infant acne and a slight issue with cradle cap. He still wears covers over his hands because he is violent with them when they go uncovered. If I leave his hands free for five minutes his face is scratched to pieces. I hope this ends soon. He loves his pacifier and his swing. As a matter of fact, I can't keep him in his swing for longer than 10 minutes unless I want him to go to sleep. He loves being held. I want to eat his feet they are so adorable.

Ava wants nothing to do with him for the most part. She does talk to Ian on occasion, but it's from a distance. When he cries, Ava says, "OK, baby." As in "It's OK, baby." When she goes to bed, she says, "Night-night to baby." When she sees him, she says, "Hi guy!" And when Ian sneezes, Ava says, "Baby sneezie!" Otherwise, she avoids him. Ian had his picture taken on Sunday for his birth announcement, and although we tried several times to get one of Ava and Ian together, we couldn't get her close enough to him for a decent shot. I hope this changes over the next six months, or family pictures are going to be impossible. One afternoon last weekend, Ava woke up from nap and I went in to get her. I put her down in her room and expected her to play for a minute while I put away her laundry. After a minute, I realized she was gone. I went looking for her, and found her at Ian's crib, talking to him through the bumper. He was sleeping, but Ava was having a conversation with him. It was a funny and sweet moment - the beginning of the brother-sister bond.

There are days when I don't get a chance to go to the bathroom until 4 p.m. There are days I forget I have a dog. There are days when I feel like Super Mom and others when I feel like the most incompetent woman in the world. There are days when a meal is a luxury. There are days when I am so exhausted it is physically painful. But I try to love the adventure and memorize the moments before they pass. Sometimes I catch myself trying to memorize the pitch of Ava's laugh or the pitiful squeal of Ian's cry. They will grow up too quickly. I will do my hair and wear makeup again. I will dust off the skinny jeans and eat at restaurants again. But I will never have this again. So I am trying to enjoy this time.

"Sennay," And Other Ava Pronunciations

Ava has developed quite the vocabulary and is talking a mile a minute these days. Unfortunately, Stefan and I are not very fluent in Toddler Speak, so more often than not we're left scratching our heads and asking each other, "Did you get that?" But when we can understand her, we giggle at her versions of words and phrases. Below are a few of her favorites, and their pronunciations. I'll try to post more of them as I think of them or as she says them.

Sennay = seven
Ava walks around the house counting everything in tens. I think she gets that from me because I also have an annoying counting habit. I count everything from steps to stairs to stirs with a spoon. Every time I walk up and down the stairs, I count to 16. I hate it, but it's natural for me to do it. And now I see Ava doing it too. Maybe she is my child, after all. She pronounces each number perfectly, with the exception of seven. But her version is so adorable I can't bring myself to correct her.

Eye-gyoo = igloo
We have an alphabet magnet puzzle book my mom got for her for Christmas. Each letter is followed by an object, as in "A is for Apple." The object for the letter I is igloo. Right now, it's Ava's favorite word. And mine.

Suh-wide = slide
She says this two-syllable word with such enthusiasm. One day while playing with Ava's large blocks, we built a slide for her Little People Farm Animals to go down. Ever since, Ava has been addicted to building slides or finding slides throughout the house for her animals to go down. For example, Ava's crib has side rails that curve down toward the front. Well, now that is a slide for her stuffed bunny. She just loves slides. Loves them! Every time we get her blocks, the first thing she does is build a slide. And she can't even so much as touch a block without first retrieving her animals to have at the ready!

Dinnee = dinner

Wunsh = lunch

Pihwer = pillow

Mee-now = meow

Muck = milk

Tay Tow = thank you

Pootie = purple

Jamoose = jammies (pajamas)

Wosheen = lotion

Turlull = turtle

Hup = help or hop; it's impossible to distinguish between the two.

Buhwett = barrette

Bwush = brush
This is an improvement from "beesh," which was her pronunciation just a few months ago.

Ann-nay = Annie

Ann = Ian

Dah-yee = daddy

Dapper = diaper

Hum = home

Fadder = father
Said as she listens to Stefan and I pray.

He Hears Ya!

Ian went to see the ear nose and throat specialist last Friday, and I am thrilled to report he passed the tests in both ears with flying colors. The left ear was the only questionable ear, but she tested the right ear too, just to be sure. She first tested the left ear by inserting a probe into the ear canal and sending signals into the ear. She waited for the ear drum to send a signal back and that's all there was to it. She tested the left ear three times, just to be sure everything was OK, and then she tested the right ear. The doctor said the reason he didn't pass the first time is probably due to amniotic fluid and/or vernix that was in his ear after birth. Or, it could have been a faulty probe. Either way, I'm just glad he passed and all of that is behind us. A complete bill of health for our little man, thank God. Another answered prayer!

January 17, 2009: Ian's Due Date

Today was my original due date with Ian. It seems like forever ago that he was born, although it's only been 3 weeks and 5 days. We fought for every second of that 36 weeks and 2 days, baby boy, and we are so glad you are here, healthy and thriving. Praise God!

Part of me is having a little difficulty with things right now. It's hitting home that I will never be pregnant again. That I will never again experience the thrill of watching a home pregnancy test turn pink. That I will never again feel the flutters and kicks of a fetus inside of me. That I will never again experience the sight of a new life being brought into this world. My heart hurts a little with these thoughts. Stefan and I originally wanted three babies, but after this past pregnancy experience, we decided two is enough. Two beautiful, healthy babies, and I am nothing but grateful for that. It's just that I never got to experience a "normal" pregnancy, and I have to let that go. I was never able to get maternity portraits or wear super-cute maternity clothes while bopping down the street at 7, 8 or 9 months pregnant. I never got to experience pregnancy along with my sister, who is due this March. We don't even have a picture of the two of us, in all our pregnant glory. Pregnancy was not a good experience for me - either time - but the end results have been nothing but perfect, so I have to just let pregnancy go and relish in my babies' health and beauty. Because they are healthy. And because they are beautiful. I kind of hate myself for being so bitter about pregnancy when I have two great kids. I guess it's all relevant.

This morning I was driving to Target with Ava in the back seat. We were listening to some music, and I thought for a moment about my life. On past Saturday mornings, I would get up late, shower, spend an hour getting dressed and doing my hair and makeup. I would go out for lunch at a new restaurant and spend the day shopping and doing things at my leisure. Today, I was going to Target. Boy, how things have changed in just a few years! If I met me now, I wouldn't even know me! I can't tell you the last time I went to a mall or specialty boutique. But you know, I love my life. I wouldn't trade the diapers and bottles and Baby Einstein videos for anything in the whole world. I love my home and my world. I love my babies and my husband. I love my friends and my family. I love it all, good and bad. I think that's how you know you're truly happy in life: when even the hard moments don't affect your view on your life. And I've got a great view from here. I look around me and can only smile.

Finding Balance: Striving to Get Out of My Pajamas

Thank you, Lord. Stefan's week-long business trip to Malaysia, originally scheduled for next week, was canceled yesterday. The company put a stop to all travel for a while. I know Stefan is a little disappointed because he was looking forward to his first trip to Asia, but I, on the other hand, am thrilled. This trip was the source of a lot of anxiety for me; Ian is only three weeks old, after all. It's not that I was stressed about caring for two babies on my own. These past couple of weeks I have pleasantly surprised myself with how well I can manage both kids, the house and myself. What had me stressed was: 1) Stefan traveling half-way around the world, and 2) My ability to go 7 days straight without a break. Stefan is such a huge help to me in the evenings and on weekends that I was mostly concerned about my stamina more than anything. Single moms, I don't know how in the world you do it.

So far, I have been proud of the job I've been doing since Stefan's return to work. We've gotten ourselves into a little routine, and each day, both kids are dressed, fed and happy. I spend lots of "special time" with Ava while Ian naps. We color, play with Play-Doh, or make food in her kitchen. Sometimes we split a small portion of candy, just the two of us. Granted, the dishwasher may not get emptied or the toilets may not get scrubbed, but I'm investing in my daughter so that she knows how special she is and that Ian is an addition to our family... not her replacement. I think Stefan and I have done a good job of making sure Ava feels extra loved during this time of transition.

Each day, I strive to add something else to the day. Both kids may be well fed and dressed, but I am still in my pajamas and snacking on cookies. It's all about balance, and I strive toward that goal everyday. For example, yesterday I took the kids to my sister's for a couple of hours. It was a good way to get Ava out of the house and me in a better frame of mind. Ava got to play with other kids and I got to be social. Maybe tomorrow I'll put on something other than pajamas. Hair and makeup come next. Pretty soon, I may start to look human again! Well, maybe after a brow wax.

Ian has settled into a quasi-routine, for now. He eats every two hours during the day and every three hours at night. This means I am up twice to feed him: at 2 a.m. and again at 5 a.m. I think this is pretty reasonable for a three-week-old, and the good news is he eats, burps and goes right back to sleep. Shhh, don't tell him, but I kind of enjoy those feedings. He just looks up at me as he drinks his milk, and the house is quiet and dark. It's just the two of us, and he drifts back to sleep in my arms. It's nice, but I'm glad it's not forever. Ian has been having more awake periods, and he loves his swing. He spends most of the day downstairs with the family. We have a Baby Papasan that he sleeps in and hangs out in. That thing paid for itself in the first week. He goes upstairs to his crib for one nap a day - when Ava is also napping. He also sleeps all night in his crib. We're trying to be consistent with his sleeping places so that he begins to associate his crib with extended sleep periods and the papasan with shorter naps.

"Enjoy Him."

Our little man is three weeks old today. At his two-week checkup last week, he had grown to 5 pounds 12 ounces, but I'm willing to bet he is over 6 pounds by now. He hit a growth spurt and has been eating everything in sight ever since. Just when I think he couldn't possibly be hungry, he chugs another 2.5 ounces. I don't know where he's putting it! At least he's gotten his days and nights figured out. I do need to take him to an ear, nose and throat doctor this Friday because he did not pass his hearing test in his left ear. The right ear is fine, but the left ear just wouldn't take. The doctor thinks it is just because the probe they used was too big for his ear canal, but just be safe and sure, he needs to see the ENT.

After three weeks, I am quite frustrated with myself over my stress levels with Ian. When my counselor from the high-risk pregnancy support group I joined while on bed rest learned I had delivered Ian, she wrote to me a nice note of congratulations, and at the end of her note, she closed with, "Enjoy him." Enjoy him. Right. I almost forgot. Between worrying about his hearing, eating, pooping, sleeping and everything else, I have completely forgotten to enjoy this time. Yes, it's stressful, but it's also wonderful, and it's a time I will never, ever experience again. Ian is our last, and before I know it, he will be too big to cuddle in the crook of my arm, and that intoxicating newborn smell will be gone forever. Stefan and I have heard nothing but "Congratulations!", but I have forgotten that this is supposed to be a joyous occasion. Dammit I hate myself for being such a worrier. He's here. He's healthy. That's all I wanted. And now the worry has shifted. I guess that's why I'm a mother. So I am trying to enjoy him more. This morning I put him on the floor for some tummy time and I lay down in front of him. He tried to lift his head slightly but got tired after about 5 minutes. I cuddled with him longer than usual after his feedings this morning, and I had Ava help me dangle a toy in front of his face. I am trying to enjoy the peaceful moments of his middle-of-the-night feedings, even though I am exhausted. Because once they're gone, they're gone forever.

Why I Have the Best Husband in the World

Last night, I chose to stay up and watch the National Title game instead of catching some much-needed sleep. I knew I would pay the price throughout the night, as Ian is going through a growth spurt right now and is eating every 2.5 hours - even at night. But I couldn't not watch the game. What kind of Gator fan would I be if I chose sleep over football? It would be a shame, really, so I sucked it up, watched the game and saw our boys win a second national title in three years. Go Gators.

As expected, Stefan and I crawled into bed a little after midnight, and as we were drifting off to sleep, Ian's cry came. It was mealtime. Having gotten no sleep so far, I suddenly started to wish I had chosen sleep. But then something happened that I will never, ever forget. My husband said in the darkness, "Don't worry about it honey. I am still keyed up from the game, so you get some sleep and I will feed Ian." Oh. My. Goodness. So Stefan got up and left me to three hours of blissful slumber. Of course, the 3:30 a.m. feeding was still difficult, but had I not gotten that initial sleep, it would have been impossible. But for Stefan to take Ian's 12:30 feeding was a dream. Honey, I know you read this blog on a daily basis, so thank you so very, very much. It meant the world to me. As do you.

Go Gators!

Here's to another BCS Title tonight!

We are the boys from old Florida.
F-L-O-R-I-D-A.
Where the girls are the fairest,
the boys are the squarest,
of any ol' state down our way.
HEY!
We are all strong for old Florida.
Down where the ol' Gators play (GO GATORS!).
In all kinds of weather,
we'll all stick togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
For F-L-O-R-I-D-A!
WOO!

Nightshift

I'm not quite sure how this happened, but Ian has gotten into the habit of being awake and alert for much of the night. It's happened the past two nights, and I'm hoping to reverse the trend tonight. He hasn't been fussy or colicky in the least, but after his middle-of-the-night feedings, he just lays against my chest (or in my arms) wide awake. Last night, he woke up at 1:45 and, with the exception of one half-hour stretch, didn't go back to bed until 6:25. Stefan relieved me of my duties from 4:30 to 6, but otherwise, it was just me, my boy and the rocking chair. He's either gotten his days and nights mixed up or he's not digging the new bottles.

I tried to keep him awake a little more today, but that wasn't easy considering both of us were running on two hours of sleep. And tonight, I gave him a warm bath - his first in a tub - and a nice nightcap. We played some lullabies during his bath and snuggled him all nice and warm. I am getting sleepier just thinking about it. Must. Go. To. Bed.

Stefan returns to work tomorrow (gulp!), and I am a little anxious about managing both kids on my own. Ava has been doing so awesome with the baby, and I don't want that to stop. But I suppose someone has to get back to work in order to pay for all these diapers Ian is plowing through. I am off to try and get some sleep. It may be another long night, and my baby girl won't understand if mommy face plants in the oatmeal tomorrow morning.

Piggy Raid and a Lost Cord

This afternoon Stefan and I emptied Ava's piggy bank to count its contents. It's something we have planned to do since she was born: take her 2-year savings and start her college fund. So for two years now, we have taken every cent she has received and put it into her piggy bank. This includes gifts for birthdays and Christmases, spare change from mom and dad, and all change Stefan and I received from breaking dollars in the hospital cafeteria while she was in the NICU. During her first two years, Ava managed to collect quite a windfall, and now we'll take this money and invest it for her future education. Stefan has been chomping at the bit to do this for days now, and he finally got his chance. Before he started counting the money, we both wrote down our guess for the total amount, and I am proud to say my (very lucky) guess came within $2.49 of the actual. Needless to say, our little girl has quite the savings built up already.

Ian lost his umbilical cord stump this afternoon, 10 days after birth. I felt the same way I did when I saw Ava's come off: bittersweet. It's the very last part of me that he had with him. I know it's cooky to think of it that way, but it's just me on postpartum hormones. He's all on his own now, growing so fast and creating his niche in our family.