Blasted Pop Tarts!

This morning I informed Jesse that once this box of Pop Tarts was gone I was not going to purchase any more. Dan wanted Pop Tarts on hand so he could grab a quick breakfast on his way out the door. But since I started buying them Jesse has insisted on having one every morning. He eats his breakfast in the car on the way to preschool so it is convenient and I get him the organic ones, but they are so full of sugar and I don't like him starting his day that way.

Anyway, in true 3 year old style, he decided to try to convince me. "Mama. I have an idea. How about instead... You just go buy more Pop Tarts at the store?" he suggested from the back seat in his sweet little voice.

I chuckled to myself since I expected him to put up a fight to try to save his beloved Pop Tarts.

"You are one crazy Pop Tart fiend, you know that don't you, Jesse?"

He paused for a few seconds to think about that one. Then he laughed and said, "Nooooo. I'm just a person, Mama!"

God, I love that kid.

"I want to marry you, Mama!"

Oh, what a sweet boy I have.

I've heard about little boys asking their moms to marry them when they grow up, but let me tell you how it melts your heart when it happens to you.

Last night Jesse and I were laying in bed watching the Biggest Loser finale when he blurted out, "I want to marry you, Mama!" Before I could say anything, he added, "And Samantha." Samantha is a little girl at his preschool who he must like. He then went on to tell me that Samantha wanted to marry Todd and Todd wanted to marry Ada. When I asked who Ada wants to marry, he said Todd. And he added that Samantha wants to marry Todd too. Way to go, Todd! He must be quite the ladies' man.

Jesse told me it is ok that he wants to marry Samantha but Samantha wants to marry Todd because "I know you'll still marry me, right, Mama?"

"Of course, Jesse."

This morning he told me he'll marry me when he's "all growed up - like maybe 7 or something."

Love.

Brothers

I could blog a thousand times a day, everyday, on the subject of brothers. I don't think I can come up with anything cuter than two little boys loving up on each other. Well, maybe if you toss a few more boys in there to love up on their brothers... Alas, Dan is quite adamant that he is done as far as having more kids goes.

So anyway, I'll enjoy watching the two I have. Just this morning Simon was cranking away because his teeth (or maybe it's his ears, or maybe I'm just paranoid again) are bothering him and there goes Jesse, running to make sure Simon is going to be ok, "It's ok, Soimon!" in his sweet, little voice.

Melt my heart.

It's just lovely to see how much they enjoy each other. Even when Jesse says that Simon is "on him" or being a pain, he says it with a twinkle in his eye. And when Simon is pinching Jesse, he's usually smiling away when he is doing it. Wait, maybe that's not the same thing. Hmmm...

Just a reminder...

We all let our kids do things the experts say not to. Popcorn before age 4? Whole grapes when they're sitting still at the table? Toys labeled "Ages 3 and up" for your 2 year old? I know, especially since Jesse is so mature in so many ways, I have done all of these things and more.

The pictures on the grocery cart (and common sense) say not to let your kid ride in the basket part of the cart, but Jesse is very well behaved and sits still on his bottom when I ask him to. Simon is too small for most of the carts at Target with the seats in the bottom so we always let Jesse ride in the basket part of the cart when we shop if he doesn't feel like walking.

This past weekend, Dan worked and I had a conference to attend so Jesse stayed with my parents Friday and I took Simon with me to the conference (it was the La Leche League conference before anyone wonders what kind of person I am for taking a baby to a conference).

Anyway, I came out of the last session to 7 voicemails on my cell phone. My mom had Jesse at Home Depot and he told her I let him ride in the basket of the cart and she let him. He sat still on his bottom the entire time like she asked, but when she got to the car he stood up in anticipation of getting out and he lost his balance and went head first out of the cart onto the parking lot. It was about a 4 foot fall directly on his head. I was almost an hour away when I got the message. That was a horrifying drive.

We spent 6 hours in two different ERs on Saturday (my mom originally took him to UPMC Braddock because he fell asleep in her car on the way to the ER and she was worried so she went to the nearest ER and then later we transferred him to Children's) and went through the hell that it is to strap a 3 year old to a table for a 2 image CT scan.

That alone was a heartbreaking experience. Absolutely awful. I have never been unable to calm him. Not once in his life. My presence and reassurance has always been all he's needed. I felt so helpless. I actually stood back for a while and cried while the CT Tech tried calming him. Eventually, I had to lay on him and go into the machine with him after he screamed for 45 minutes straight and would not calm down enough to get the test. He has petechial hemmorrhaging all over his face, neck and chest from screaming for so long.

He must have asked to nurse two dozen times while we were in the ER. I just held him close and rocked him, my heart breaking because I couldn't let him have the comfort he desperately needed. If he would have had a bleed he would have needed immediate surgery so he was not allowed to eat or drink anything until he was cleared. Nursing Simon in front of him made me feel like I was betraying him.

Fortunately, he did not have a slow brain bleed like the ped originally suspected and he is going to be just fine. My mother feels absolutely awful even though I told her a thousand times it could have happened to anyone. I've never had a problem with Jesse riding in the basket and if she had called to ask me I would have told her it was ok to do so.

I will not let him do it again after this though. Please, even if your child is an absolute angel in the basket, know that this is something that can happen. I don't ever want to be scared again like I was on Saturday.

God had His hand on Jesse. He could have had a brain bleed, he could have broken his neck, he could have broken his shoulder or arm or landed on something that could have impaled him. He didn't come out completely unscathed, but a nasty goose egg on his head and some awful memories... I'll take it.

Finally!

April's issue of the AAP News, the official magazine of the American Academy of Pediatrics, included an article officially recommending parents keep their children rear facing in their car seats to age 2, not to age 1 as previously recommended.

It's about time!

For years pediatricians have been recommending parents turn their children around to face forward once they reach 20 pounds and 1 year... while the statistics have shown that children are 5 times less likely to be injured or killed in a car accident if they stay rear facing until they outgrow the seat's rear facing limits (between 30 and 35 pounds for many convertible seats). I've even heard stories of some pediatricians foolishly telling parents they can turn their children around earlier, like when they hit 20 pounds before 1 year.

Many parents take their pediatrician's word as gospel. I can only hope that pediatricians embrace this new recommendation and push the families of their patients to take it seriously. Extended rear facing saves lives!! No child should suffer an injury that could have been prevented had the child stayed rear facing in his car seat. Just ask Joel's grandfather.

We had done the research and didn't want to take any chances so we chose to keep Jesse rear facing through the limits of his Britax Boulevard. He didn't know any different so it wasn't really an issue. Sure, it was inconvenient at times. He screamed a lot as a young toddler and it was difficult to comfort him from the front seat when he was facing rear. He went through an awful phase of being afraid of the dark in the car. That was almost unbearable. As he grew, his legs bunched up and his shoes destroyed the back part of our seats. But we knew that in the case of an accident he was as safe as we could make him. When he reached 33.5 pounds at 2 years 9 months old, we turned him around. His seat's limit for rear facing is 35 pounds and with a winter coat, snow boots and full sippy cup, we knew he was close to the limit.

We don't know when Simon will approach 35 pounds. But we know that until he does, he will remain rear facing in his car seat. He might not think it's fair because his big brother is facing forward, but we'll know it's the best we can do for him.

Jesse on his last day facing rear - December 2008

Take a compliment

Mark Twain said, "I can live for two months on a good compliment."

What's the best compliment you've received lately? Ever?

In November I took Jesse for a haircut. Simon tagged along. Jesse sat so nicely draped in his racecar robe while the girl trimmed his hair. Meanwhile I sat in a chair with an overhead hair dryer chatting with the stylists while I snuggled, kissed and munched on Simon. About 10 minutes in, the owner of the shop stopped working on the head of hair in front of her and said to me with a huge smile, "It's obvious you really enjoy your children."

Wow. What a compliment.

When Jesse is on my last nerve and Simon's whining seems unending, I remember that compliment and try to enjoy my children as much as I do on a good day when everyone's happy and full of smiles.

What have you been complimented on? Take that compliment to heart. Next time you're frustrated or pissed off, next time you screw something up or feel like nothing can go your way, when that moody friend stops talking to you for no apparent reason, your husband acts like a total dolt, your mother gets on your nerves, your boss is a pain... Think of your best compliment. Take heart! You are good at something, you are a good person, you do something well.

Take a compliment.

"But I AM three!"

So says Jesse. He's been insisting he's three years old for months now.

Well, today it is official. My boy is three. My baby, my first born, my "best boy"... three years old. How did this happen?

Maybe because the details surrounding his birth are always present in the front of my mind even though I choose still not to face them all, it seems like it wasn't so long ago. March 18, 2006 was the most frightening, traumatizing, and heart wrenching day of my life. It was also the most glorious day. It was the day I became a mother. The day I stepped into the role I believe I was born to fill. The day my gorgeous red haired, blue eyed boy was pulled from my body. He did not breathe, he did not cry, his heart did not beat. God had his hand on Jesse Daniel and He breathed life into him and protected him and here we are three years later. Happy, healthy, full of energy, love and life.

Jesse is an amazing child. He takes my face in both his hands, pulls me toward him and says, "I love you, Mama," and gives me a squinty eyed smile and my heart melts every time. He's so grown up in many ways, yet still like the baby I recall in others. He wants to be independent and do it all himself, he speaks like an adult at times, he comes up with thoughts and ideas that blow my mind. He loves to snuggle in close, asks "Hold me like a baby" when he nurses, cries when he doesn't get his way. He challenges me and keeps me on my toes. I have learned to love in a way that was new to me, I've been more frustrated than I knew was possible, I have found patience within I never knew I had. He taught me how to mother, he led the way as I learned, as he grows I grow along with him.

I am blessed. I thank God for the miracle that is Jesse every day of my life. I love you, Buddy. Happy birthday!

First time meeting Jesse in the NICU - 14 hours old

Jesse's first dentist appointment - February 2009

Tattooed

I did it. A while ago, actually. But I realize I never updated here.

In January I got a tattoo. My "first tattoo" as Dawn, the woman who inked me, told me to refer to it as. She said it is hard for most to stop at one and I can see that. It was easy to do and I absolutely love my tattoo!

It all started last June. Scratch that. It actually started in June 1993. I went on a trip with my girlfriends to Ocean City, MD after we graduated from high school. I was 17. That trip was a blast. Wow, to be young again. But I digress... While at the beach, I considered getting a tattoo on my ankle. We went to the tattoo shop and I looked around. I had no idea what I wanted to get, I just wanted to get something. I was young, tanned, free, on a crazy summer trip with good friends, I needed to do something wild!

Then I thought about it. Did I really want Tweety Bird on my ankle on my wedding day? Or for the rest of my life for that matter? I was thinking no. So I decided to wait 6 months and if I still wanted the tattoo then I would get it. If not, then I would skip it.

Needless to say, once I returned home from the beach, I knew immediately I definitely did not want a tattoo. To be honest, I've never really been a fan. And then there was my mother to deal with. She actually told us girls to come home pregnant before coming home with a tattoo. She's not a fan either.

Fast forward 15 years to June 2008. My second baby boy was just 3 months old and I had been lamenting the fact that I was done having babies because it was practical and not because it was what was in my heart. Somehow this feeling worked its way into my head so deeply that I awoke one morning after dreaming that I had gotten my boys' names tattooed on my left wrist. The dream was so real that I started to consider getting a tattoo for my boys. While I am no longer a fan of Tweety Bird, will there ever come a day I will regret my children? I think not. The seed had been planted.

Still, being me - deliberate and practical to a fault - I decided to follow the same 6 month rule I observed as a teen. When I told Dan about it all, he suggested I get my tattoo as my Christmas gift if I decided I still wanted it in December.

For months I searched the internet for ideas, drew pictures, looked at photos of other tattoos, asked for opinions and ideas. And then one day, there it was. As soon as I saw it, I knew that was it. The symbol I wanted to honor my boys with. It's from some Australian organization - Barnardos - for a Mother of the Year award. I don't know the specifics, but when I saw the symbol of the mother gently cradling her babe against her breast, it made me think of nursing my boys, of holding them close, their warm body snuggled against mine, eyes locked in that gaze... That was it. That was what I wanted.

So in January, I did it. Dan came with me. I went to Dawn at Art Fx and got inked. It didn't hurt the way I thought it would. It felt like bee stings. A lot of them. It was less bearable when she didn't let up for a while, but it was mostly just annoying. I ate a lot of Dum Dums while she did it. Within 20 minutes of sitting down in the chair, it was done. Immediately, I loved it. I couldn't stop looking at it or touching it. It took a lot longer to heal than I expected or was told and I think it actually scarred a bit on one end. But it doesn't change how it looks.

I'm past the stage where I'm constantly touching it or looking at it every 13.5 seconds. Jesse hasn't asked for weeks when my tattoo will come off. Now it's just a part of me. Part of who I am. Just like my boys.

No regrets.

Boys and boobs

Jesse's 3rd birthday is a week from tomorrow. I wish I could make time stand still.

Jesse is nursing. The boys loves to nurse and nursing meets his needs and I'm happy to continue so we're not considering weaning at this point. Sometimes I ask Jesse how long he will nurse though. Just to satisfy my own curiosity.

Usually when I ask he tells me "Forever!" and then as I go up the chain of boys/men he knows he says he will nurse when he's that old... Landon (4), Joseph (6), Brandon (10), Chris (13), Daddy... he says yes to all of them.

Last night I asked if he liked to nurse and he told me YES! Then I asked how long and he told me, "For a while." That was different so I went up the line. "Will you nurse when you are as old as Landon?" "Yes! Yes, Mama!" "What about when you're as old as Joseph?" He thought about this for a little bit and then answered, "No. I think I'll stop nursing before then."

That's different. And I'm ok with it. I guess he's set his weaning date (for now) sometime between 4 and 6. Works for me!

Three years ago

I've been so sentimental lately in this month of birthdays. Simon's was 5 days ago and Jesse's is in another 9. Today I came across an email I sent out to loved ones on March 9, 2006 while I was waiting for Jesse to arrive. I remember those days, going stir crazy on bed rest, enjoying most of being pregnant (the crushing pelvic pain and PUPPPS I could have done without), but getting antsy to go into labor to experience the birth I had dreamed about my whole life and to meet the little man who kicked me while I tried to sleep at night.

Motherhood is more beautiful on this side, but I did thoroughly enjoy having that little life all to myself, growing inside my body like my own little secret relationship, the only one to know what he was doing at any time, imagining what kind of child he would be, what he would look like, etc. Pregnancy was a wonderful time in my life. I thank God I was able to enjoy it not only once but twice.


It is March 9 and our official due date was March 4, so I figured a little update was in order since some of you might be wondering if you missed the news.

You didn't miss anything. Little Jesse is being stubborn and doesn't want to come out. I am ok with that because I rather enjoy being pregnant and know I will miss it when it's over soon. I feel really good and relaxed and, though I want to meet my son so badly, I am ok staying pregnant a little while longer.

I have had pregnancy induced blood pressure issues for a while now and have been home on bedrest for a few weeks. Because of that and some test results on the baby's heartrate when I have contractions, there was talk of inducing me last week and then again this week. Luckily, they ran more tests which we both aced and they are allowing us more time to go on our own like I hope to go.

So we spend 5-7 hours at Magee having tests done every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We don't mind even though getting someone to drive us there and back is a pain sometimes. As long as we keep doing well on the tests, they will allow nature to take its course. If anything comes back with a less than favorable score, we will be induced.

So please pray for us to go into labor on our own soon, while we are both healthy and before my midwives start talking about induction just based on the calendar (they usually don't let you go past your due date by more than two weeks).

If you are on this list, you are on the list that I gave to my best friend, Amanda. She will send out an e-mail letting you know that little Jesse is here once he makes his appearance!

Until then, take care! :)

Here are some other bits I came across:

It's been a roller coaster, but I am glad they are allowing us some time to go on our own. The thought of a 3 day inducement (that's how long they said it might take since I was making no progress on my own at all) with all that medical intervention really didn't appeal to me even though I am willing to do whatever it takes if little Jesse is in any danger at all. I stayed up the night before my induction and prayed and prayed and the last minute tests were perfect! Now I am just praying to go into labor and for the strength to get through it naturally like Dan and I have planned for so long.

I talked so casually about the "3 day induction" my midwives speculated about. My Bishop's Score was low, my body was not ready to be induced, my baby not ready to come out on his own. Little did I realize at that point that it would indeed be a 3 day induction that would not even end in a vaginal delivery. I was still so hopeful and confident.

No clue how much he weighs. I don't think he'll be too huge though - he has room to stretch his little legs out at night when I am in bed. I can't wait to meet him!

Hopefully, I won't have to keep up the appointments too much longer. I keep taking walks hoping to get something going before time runs out.

Soon!

I laugh when I remember being convinced he was going to be about 7.5 pounds. I was 7lb 5oz and Dan was 7lb 9oz and I had it set in my head that he would be 7lb 7oz, right in the middle. Hilarious the way my pregnant, deluded brain worked then.

Yeah, nothing has worked yet. I have been threatened with induction three times now and every time it's imminent, the next test comes out fine and they send me home. Today, his amniotic fluid is really low, but his non-stress test was excellent, so I am home again. I am scheduled for induction on Friday if I don't go on my own before then though.

I had been scheduled for an induction that Friday, March 17. At my appointment on Wednesday, March 15, my amniotic fluid was dangerously low and we returned that evening to start the induction. It was another 3 days before my beautiful boy was pulled from my body, blue and limp. Sometimes it seems like a story that happened to someone else. I'm blessed that it was me and that he's a gorgeous almost-3-year-old today.

Happy (almost) birthday, Baby!

Wow. Where to start?

Today is the anniversary of the day that was supposed to be Simon's birthday. Our favorite midwife, Shannon, wasn't working that Monday so we moved the date of my cesarean to Tuesday, March 4, 2008, so Shannon would be there to be with us in the operating room with Dr. Kaminski to welcome our baby boy into the world. It seemed fitting also that Simon would be born on his brother's original estimated due date. We had looked forward to March 4, 2006, as the day around which we would become first time parents, never expecting for two full weeks to pass after that date before Jesse came to be with us.

It's hard to believe an entire year has passed since Simon's birth. It has been the fastest year of my life. Time started flying once we became parents, but the two years it was just Dan and me and Jesse definitely passed much slower than the time does when you've got two little ones to chase after. What a year it's been though! Simon is so different from Jesse. He's changed my few expectations over and over, teaching me - yet again - that I am no longer in charge and life is better when I follow the lead of my children.

I still carry many scars from Jesse's birth. It's not something that I will ever "get over" and move on from. I changed too much over the course of those three days of labor and I have yet to completely face my feelings regarding his entrance into the world. But I started my path to healing on the day Simon came to be.

Leading up to Simon's birth was agonizing. I had many fears. Would he cry? Would his lungs work? What if some freak accident happened and we came close to losing another baby? Would I be able to handle more? What if he ended up in the NICU like Jesse did? How would we make that work, could I go back to the NICU again without all those memories of Jesse's start rushing back in?

And then he was born. And he cried. And it was as though the sun was rising for the first time. Everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok. I wasn't going to be defined by Jesse's birth anymore. It wasn't going to have the same hold on me that it did before. It's still there, still a part of who I am, nothing will change it. But Simon's birth lifted a fog of sorts that I had been in for almost two years. It was a new beginning.

And here we are one day away from the anniversary of that date. Simon joined our family one year ago. How can that be? It seems he was only born a few short months ago and it seems we've known him forever at the same time.

He's my chunky, lovable, adorable boy. I love his dark eyes and light, wispy hair. His whispering "dat dat dat" and light squeals welcome me every morning, reminding me that I am beyond blessed with yet another gorgeous boy to love and hold. Even overnight when I am exhausted from nursing every few hours, I thank God for the warm little body snuggled up against mine, his grunty little sounds as he feverishly sucks for more milk, his sweet smelling head and little chubby fingers holding tight to mine. I have been blessed with the most precious gift again.

In one year, Simon has gone from being a skinny little spider monkey with long chicken legs to a solid big guy who steals hearts wherever he goes. In his early days, when I was convinced he'd never latch to nurse and I was pumping and finger feeding him with a syringe, barely sleeping, frustrated, exhausted, discouraged... I never looked forward far enough to see where we'd be today. I plugged through one minute, one hour, one day at a time never realizing a year later he'd be a happy, healthy, beautiful boy, fed for 9 months exclusively by my milk, passionate to see me at the end of a work day to reconnect, content to lie snuggled against me as he sleeps.

Simon, you are my precious boy. I love you more than I can ever express in words. You've turned my life upside down again in a good way. You're a joy to be with. A pleasure to mother. My life is complete with you in it. You are my second born, but you are never second in my heart. I love you, Bubba. Happy birthday.

What beautiful boys!

Allow me to brag for a bit.

Last weekend we went down to Phipps Conservatory to see if we could get some pictures of the kids for our Christmas cards. Simon's 9 month birthday was yesterday so this doubled as his 9 month photo shoot. My girlfriend, Christy, who has recently started her own photography business came with us since her eye and equipment are far superior to my own.

Phipps was done up beautifully! I spent so much time taking it all in and encouraging the kids to look at Christy that I didn't take many of my own pictures of the decorations. I hope we can get back again before they take down the holiday decor and re-do the Thai gardens. It was peaceful and gorgeous and I'm sorry we haven't taken advantage of the gardens more often. Jesse had a good time running through the mazes and Simon liked exploring everything around him, including the dirt. Ah, boys and dirt! A match made in heaven!

I can't believe my Simon is 9 months old already! Yesterday I was off work and took the boys to Lilliput for a playdate with BFF (the group that spun-off from MoMo when it went bust a few days before Thanksgiving) and then to the pediatrician's for Simon's 9 month checkup. He's doing so well! He's a shorty - 27.5 inches long - but a chunker - 22 pounds on the nose. Jesse is 33 pounds. Almost time to turn him forward facing in his Boulevard since it only rear faces to 35 pounds. Both boys received a thimerisol-free flu vaccination. Neither boy shed a tear or made a peep with their injection. Freaky, huh?

Anyway, enjoy a sampling of the pictures Christy took. I love them! She really caught the boys' personalities!

It's like looking at a baby picture of me!

I love this one! Dear Santa: Bring me all the toys or Baby Brother gets it! Love, Jesse

On having a second baby...

Simon lights up when Jesse comes in the room. He seriously almost gives himself whiplash trying to keep his eyes on every single thing Jesse is doing. Jesse puts on a show, dancing around, squealing and giggling, "He thinks I'm funny, Mama!" He sure does. For every time Jesse whips a toy from Simon's hands leaving Simon with a bewildered look on his face or when I hear Jesse shout, "No, Simon, I was playing with that first!" there are countless moments when I will hear Jesse trying to comfort a crying baby, "Don't cry, Simon. I'm right here!" or I hear the sound he makes when he gives a kiss and I hear, "I love you, brother." Oh holy hell!

I was amazingly worried about rocking Jesse's world with his brother. He was our life before Simon arrived. He was our miracle baby, our gift from God. How could any child compare? What on earth were we thinking wanting to have another? How would Jesse react to another child vying for our affections? In the days leading up to Simon's birth, I spoiled the heck out of Jesse, taking him for special trips, buying him toys, snuggling with him on the couch, lavishing him with every second of attention I could, second guessing our decision to have a second child the entire time. He'd "wisten" to his "baby brudder" with the stethoscope on my belly and giggle when Simon would kick. I'd ask if he was ready to meet his baby and he'd say yes, but I knew it was not the right choice and his world would never be the same.

I was right, his world will never be the same. But not in the way I was thinking. It's better. When I birthed his brother, I birthed his best friend, his favorite playmate, his punching bag, one to make him his punching bag... good, bad or ugly, Simon is not only a gift to us, he is the best gift we could ever give Jesse.

And other fall fun...

We had a few busy weekends! Lots of family fun! Dan's dad was in Chesapeake fishing so Dan stayed home from hunting and we packed that weekend as full as we could. We ended up with some really nice weather too!

Saturday we headed to Reilly's Summer Seat Farm to do a little pumpkin picking. Oh, that place is a blast! We usually enjoy Soergel's Orchards a lot, but Reilly's really does it up right for the kids for Halloween. Jesse went through a corn maze, a boo barn, got his face painted, went down a huge slide on a burlap sack... you name it, he did it! We all piled onto the hayride to take the long ride out to the pumpkin patch where he proceeded to choose the world's ugliest pock marked pumpkin as his very own. He was so very proud! While we were picking our pumpkins, we ran into the couple who was in the waiting room with us at Magee the morning of Simon's birth. Their baby boy, Matthew, is huge like Simon too - and he's oh so cute! He was born 2 hours after Simon.

In case you can't tell, that's Simon on the left and Jesse two years ago on the right. Simon is fully mobile so he wouldn't sit still for a nice picture like Jesse, who couldn't even army crawl at this age, did. Still, it's fun to have these pictures side by side!

The next day we headed to Idlewild for Hallowboo. It was fun! But what a crowd! We couldn't even get into Storybook Forest to trick or treat. It didn't keep us from having a good time though! Jesse rode the Ferris wheel, the Caterpillar (we used to call it the Centipede), and the big roller coaster! He was just tall enough! And he loved it. He's so daring these days.

Simon enjoyed people watching so much that he pooped out in the stroller. I wish I could have worn him instead of pushing him around all day (he would have napped much easier), but I am still in a lot of pain from the car accident. Simon screamed most the way home since it was dark and he was in his car seat. That made for an awful ride home - it's about an hour and a half. Outside of that though, I'm glad we went!

It was a busy and fun weekend!

Happy Halloween!

Can you even stand how cute they are?

Jesse-ism

Too cute not to record someplace and since the baby books are buried under a pile of paperwork on my desk...

Yesterday we had the kids at Idlewild for Hallowboo. It was fun even though the size of the crowd at the park was ridiculous. Jesse had spent the night before at Jennifer's so Dan and I could have a date night and he had stayed up hours past his usual bedtime playing and watching movies with Joseph. He didn't nap at the park and, while he did well all things considered, he was pretty whooped and cranky as all get out by the time we packed it up to go home.

Dan was pushing Simon in the stroller and Jesse insisted I carry him. I am still in a lot of pain from the car accident so I carried him a bit to appease him then I asked if I could put him down and could he walk and just hold my hand. He whined and cried and buried his head into my neck further.

A minute or two later I hurt too much to even continue walking let alone continue on carrying a 30 pound toddler. So I asked him again. He leaned back, looked me in the face and said, "Mom, I can't walk! My legs are too thirsty!"

Hilarious!

Friends across the miles

Jesse and Henry 2008 and 2007. Can you stand it?

My friend, Leah, and I live a few hours away from each other. Our sons, Jesse and Henry, are 11 days apart and her daughter, Evelyn, is 3 months younger than my Simon. Leah and I try to meet up midway once or twice a year to visit with each other. We've had picnics in Clarion, gone shopping in Grove City, visited an animal park in Pymatuning (I think this was a favorite for the boys)... It's never enough though. When the day is done and we part ways, it's very sad.

A couple months ago, Leah asked if I could bring the boys to stay at their house for a long weekend. How fun! We planned for the trip and as it approached I can't tell you who was more excited to go, Jesse or me. Staying at someone else's home is extremely far outside my comfort zone, but my desire to see Leah and the kids was greater than my anxiety, so the trip was on.

The weekend before last, I took Friday off work, packed the boys up in the truck and hit the road. The drive was very pleasant once the rain stopped - across the beautiful countryside of PA with some of the leaves already changing, through quaint towns with gorgeous old Victorian homes, across sparkling waterways and through rolling mountains. It went a lot faster than I anticipated and the boys slept most of the way. Even when they woke and I stopped to nurse Simon, they weren't antsy or fussy. It was a great success!

I was beyond excited to arrive at Leah's house. Seeing Evelyn so healthy and chubby was awesome (she suffered a cardiac arrest in July due to an undiagnosed birth defect and underwent open heart surgery here at Childrens Hospital of Pittsburgh, so the last time I saw her she looked very different)!

The boys were a touch standoffish with each other, but they warmed quickly. Leah lives in one of those amazing Victorian homes... her third floor is a ballroom! Gorgeous! I'm sure it's a pain to clean and heat, but it's the kind of house I love, the kind you imagine what it was like to live in way back when it was full of servants and the formalities of the times.

We had lunch and caught up while the boys played. Once Leah's husband, Chris, got home from work we had homemade pizzas for dinner and then the boys got a bath before bed. They were a blast together, just like peas and carrots! Oh, how I wish we lived closer!

On Saturday Leah made an excellent breakfast of waffles and bacon (Jesse was in heaven!) and later we all headed to a local Johnny Appleseed festival. The park where it was held had a great playground where the boys ran and played and climbed and just had a rip-roaring good time! Chris and Leah took Jesse for a while so I could sit and nurse Simon in a quiet spot. What a gorgeous fall day it was, sitting on a bench amidst the activity of a festival, nursing my beautiful boy in the shade. It was a moment.

That evening after the boys played more outside for a while we had a ham Leah had made in the crockpot (I need to start doing this, it was exceptional) and relaxed and enjoyed time together. All too soon the weekend was coming to an end and with it our time to be together.

Sunday, after I packed up all our crap and Leah whipped up a batch of banana muffins (seriously, she's like Super Mom or something), it was time to go home. I was very teary. Who knows when we will see each other again? The kids will be bigger, different. I missed Leah as soon as I drove away. I wish I had a good friend like her who lived closer.

The nicest thing about the weekend, besides spending time with friends I don't see often enough, was how relaxed everything was. Leah's house is like my own - the adults adapt to the schedules of the children, discipline is gentle, everyone respects everyone else. It was nice to spend time in another laid back home.

I hope that we see each other again soon. Before the babies are no longer babies at least. Thanks again for a wonderful weekend, Leah and family!

Brotherly love

Make my heart melt, why don't you?

Can I get a "Holy Cow!!!"????

10,000 ounces.

That's how much milk I have pumped thus far. In fact, I reached that milestone a few squirts ago as I am pumping as I type this entry.

Jesse will turn 2.5 years old tomorrow. I started pumping on his birth day, March 18, 2006. His was a rough entry into this world and he was quickly whisked away from me (before I even laid eyes on his beautiful face) and taken to the NICU. Once I finally stopped bleeding enough to be released from Recovery and taken to the Special Care unit at Magee, I was greeted by a wonderful nurse who reminded me somewhat of Dan's Aunt Debbie by the way she talked and her mannerisms. She asked how long ago my baby was born and if I was able to nurse him at all. I told her he had been born 11 hours earlier and I had never even seen him. She left the room for a minute and came back with a Medela Symphony on a wheeled stand and told me I had to start pumping immediately. And that's how it all began.

I pumped for Jesse and my colostrum was fed to him in his bottles of formula in the NICU. On his fifth day of life I was able to attempt to put him to breast. Of course, by that point he wanted easy food from that dummy nipple so it wasn't smooth sailing for us. But with the help of a wonderful lactation consultant, Diana Jordan, who came to our home once he was released from the NICU and worked with us one on one, we got him to take the breast eventually. I pumped and bottle fed him for a while though until he figured it out. (Major props go out to all those moms who exclusively pump for their babies for one reason or another. I have EPed for a couple months total between my two boys and I cannot imagine doing it long term. A special shout out to my friend, Betsy, who pumped for her twin girls for 21 months. She rocks something fierce!) After Jesse got it, I still had to pump for relief since I was graced with a raging oversupply of milk. I had mastitis twice, recurring painful clogged ducts, blebs, leaking, spraying wasn't able to feed my baby in public for fear of showering everyone in a six foot area with my own liquid gold...

Once I returned to work, I didn't mind pumping for my special boy. It was a way to feel like I was doing something for him while we were apart, a way to feel connected. With all my milk though, I had more than Jesse could ever take and through the Yahoo MilkShare group I was able to find a local family whose mama was unable to make enough milk for her baby. I donated about 1,200 ounces to Melissa and Gabe in the fall/winter of 2006/2007.

As Jesse grew and got more into solid foods, I was able to decrease my frequency of pumping at work. When he was 11.5 months old I was able to go from pumping every 3 hours to pumping every 4 hours. Then when he was 14 months old I went down to pumping once a day at work. By the time he was 16 months old and I was a few months pregnant with Simon, my milk supply had diminished enough that I was comfortable not pumping at all while away from him for the day. He still took my breastmilk (from my ample freezer stash) in a cup at daycare until he was almost 21 months old.

With Simon's birth being a (mandatory) repeat cesarean, scheduled and controlled, I always thought he would just come out ready to nurse and I planned to do so as soon as I was able to in Recovery. We tried and tried but the poor boy couldn't latch effectively. He would try to suckle but his mouth was so small and his tongue would just push my nipple out again. We were both very frustrated. Even more frustrating was how long it took to get a lactation consultant to see me in the hospital. When one finally came, I got set up with a pump again.

Again, back to see Diana (this time at the Breastfeeding Center of Pittsburgh) and again back to pumping. I used syringes and finger fed him while trying to latch him along the way for a month until he latched and ate one day when I attempted (oh the tears of joy!!!). After I was sure he could sustain himself by breastfeeding exclusively, I tossed the syringes and packed up the pump. I had already built a stash of milk in the freezer since I was graced with an oversupply again this time around, so I had no need to pump until I came back to work.

Simon's demand for milk wasn't as great as Jesse's and my oversupply isn't as raging this time around (thanks to sage tea) so I was able to go to pumping every 4 hours from every 3 hours by the time Simon was 4 months old. I like this schedule a lot better, pumping at 10 am and 2 pm each day instead of 9, 12 and 3.

I am getting ready to donate milk again, this time to Jo and her twin preemie girls. I hope that I am able to help them out for a while and not just make the one donation.

Someday Simon will start solids and need my milk less and less while we are apart. I pray he continues to want to nurse into his third year (and beyond) like his older brother has, but I admit that I will not miss this darn pump when it's time for me to hang up my horns for good! No scheduling around pump times, no tingly hot feeling when I have to push a session back, no more cow sign on my door of my office, hauling expressed milk back and forth to the fridge, mentally figuring warm storage time and how many more ounces I need to make this week's bottles, spending $10 every couple weeks at work for Lansinoh freezer bags...

In the meantime, I'll keep updating my spreadsheet so I know what's in my inventory at all times. I'll keep pumping as many times a day as Simon requires me to. And I'll keep adding to my 10,000 ounces.

Holy cow, indeed.

That was rough!

What's worse than one sick kid? Two sick kids.

What's worse than two sick kids? Being sick at the same time.

That was not fun. Luckily, both my babies are feeling better now and I am back to work. Poor little peanuts. They are both troupers. Jesse wasn't as bad as Simon (though there was a pretty nasty poop episode resulting in poopy footprints all through my kitchen) and Simon smiles through everything even when he's sporting a fever and utterly miserable.

Maybe our immune systems got a little boost that will see us through the winter. One can hope.