Circle of Life?

When Drew was about 3 weeks old, we had an "incident" that never seemed to make it to the blog.  (I blame complete exhaustion).  It was about 9:00 at night.  The baby was asleep, and Rob and I were about to shut down shop and go collapse in bed.  Rob let our dear puppy out for one last time, and we were standing in the kitchen discussing something earth-shattering like formula or spit up or poop.  When we both smelled it-- and ran for the door.

Too late- sweet Sophie had been skunked.  She was standing at the back door looking like she wanted to curl up and disappear.  Some quick googling and reaching out to friends on Facebook left us with a great recipe for dog wash that included baking soda, peroxide and dish soap.

Seeing as I used peroxide about twice per year, we only had 1/2 a cup and it expired in 2008.  We agree that the best course of action is that I should pack up the baby and head to HEB while Rob takes the dog upstairs and begins to wash her with whatever we can find.

Anyway, long story short, we get the skunk out of the dog while at the same time realizing the skunk has made itself at home under the deck in our backyard.

We aren't strangers to wildlife in this neighborhood.  Deer, coyotes, armadillos, possums, skunks.... we got 'em all.  But I don't need one living in such close proximity.  I have to admit we have yet to do anything about evicting the skunk.  It's amazingly expensive since you have to have the company come back every day to see if you caught anything, and you could catch a squirrel or the neighbors cat as easily as you could catch the skunk.

So today, in the middle of the day, I  look out onto my deck and see what look to be mice scurrying around.  I get closer and peer out the window, only to be looking at two mice sticking their heads out of one hole in the deck, and one poking his head out of another.  I tell you what, it looked like a Disney movie only with less cuteness.  I expected them to break out in song at any moment.

Here's my question- skunks eat mice.  How do BOTH live under my deck?  Shouldn't one of these problems take care of the other?  I'd rather have neither, but surely I shouldn't have both.

Rob has agreed that our first order of business this spring is removing the deck and putting in a nice, flat, concrete patio....

How I Almost Died on My 28th Birthday*

*Title of post could be an exaggeration-- I didn't stick around long enough to find out.

This post has nothing to do with the fact that I woke up at 6:30 today to find a power outage and my thermometer telling me it was 18.4 degrees.  (Thank you, Austin Energy).  I was lucky and the power came back on just as I was considering the pros and cons of cuddling with a bottle in bed to warm it up before the baby woke up.

I am totally and completely afraid of all elevators manufactured after approximately 1988. I could get on an elevator and ride up 78 stories as long as it was a new elevator.  But the old ones all seem to have a mind of their own, and I always seem to be in them when they malfunction.

A history, if you will-

1. I once arrived at law school at 6:50am, preparing to go to the library when it opened at 7.  I got on the elevator (alone) and rode up to the second floor.  When the doors opened, I was eye level with the third floor.  The doors closed again, and when they re-opened, the elevator was about 1 foot higher than the floor itself.  I pushed my way through the doors as they tried to close again, not sure that the third time would really be the charm here.

2. The elevators at the AG's office were so frequently in disrepair that they actually kept an "out of service" sign inside each of the elevators.  The elevator would often just stop, wide open, on a floor and choose not to work for a couple of days.  At least twice I would get in, press the floor I needed, and was dropped of on another floor for no apparent reason.  All of this was punctuated by the fact that no one replaced any of the 9 20-watt light bulbs in the elevators until only one remained lit, so most of these adventures took place in almost pitch blackness.  The elevators were so bad that I actually instituted a personal rule that I never got into the elevator having to go to the bathroom or hungry.

3. I was in Philadelphia on work and got into an elevator on the 56th floor, rode down, felt the belt pop, and it went back up several floors, stopped, and finally returned to the ground where it let us out.  There were about 6 other people in the elevator at the time, and I'm pretty sure I pushed them all aside to get out once we got to solid land.

So we agree I have a justified fear of elevators, yes?

Anyway, today I went to my birthday party YWA board meeting, and brought the baby with me in the stroller. Once the meeting was over at 8 I packed up and hustled out because the baby was supposed to eat at 7:30 and I knew I was pushing my luck.  I said my goodbyes and got on the elevator, briefly thinking "I wish at least one other person was in here with us."  Famous. Last. Words. Thoughts.

I got on at the second floor and pushed "1."  And then I felt that tell-tale "pop."  As you can see from my vast elevator incident repertoire listed above, I knew that wasn't good.  I tried to tell myself there was nothing to worry about.  The elevator started its descent.  We reached the bottom.  AND NOTHING HAPPENED.  I try to convince myself to relax- sometimes it just takes a second longer than I think it should for the doors to open.  BUT THEY DIDN'T OPEN. 

Suddenly I'm having 15 thoughts at once.  How do I protect Drew?  If the doors open, I'm going to push him out onto whatever floor the doors open to, but will I have time to get out, too?  What if the doors don't open level with a floor, how will I get him out then? 

Now the elevator jerks back to life.

I start hearing voices and realize that we are headed back towards where we came from.  I'm considering screaming to everyone that we have a situation on our hands.  As I consider that possibility the elevator stopped and the doors opened and I came FLYING out of that elevator with the baby, apparently with a look on my face that let everyone know something had gone horribly wrong. 

I stood outside that elevator for about 10 more minutes while I distributed my stuff among everyone so we could take the stroller down the stairs, and those doors never opened again, despite pushing the button to call the elevator.

So my 28th birthday started out with a little more drama (and likely grey hairs) that was expected.  Now if the "Blizzard of the Century" would just move along....

God has a sense of humor

Drew rolled over today.

Twice.

I'm a head case.

Note: I just got an email from Rob.


Re: Do we not blog anymore?


Body of the email: "The peasants are getting restless."

I think he (and possibly my mom) are the only ones who check this every day hoping for something new, but sorry if anyone else has been crying themselves to sleep at night over my lack of posting.


"The theory describes a Type A individual as ambitious, aggressive, business-like, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with his or her status, time-conscious, and tightly-wound. People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving "workaholics" who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence."*



Hmmm....  I've been known to clean out my email inbox in the middle of the night when I'm up to feed Drew.  Last night I checked ConsumerReports.com for the rating on a jogging stroller I decided I needed yesterday and am going to buy today.  I've spent most of my married life listening to my husband explain to me why it just won't WORK for me to be involved in YWA, Junior League, book club, bible study, bunko, yoga and working part time on the side.  I planned a trip to Europe where every day came complete with a schedule and instructions on EXACTLY how to get from one place to another.  I already mentioned on here that patience is not my virtue.

So yes, I think I'm pretty classic Type A.  I've certainly met worse Type A personalities, but I'm certainly part of that group.

So imagine my shock and surprise when I had a baby and I was 15 minutes late (at least) to everything, and any sort of schedule was a joke.  My Type A personality was having heart attack.  Then I went to the pediatrician who told me "Well, I can tell he is not getting enough tummy time.  He needs 45 minutes a day."

Ahh yes- challenging a Type A.  Just the thing to do.

So then I wrote about how Drew and I started "Tummy Time Boot Camp."  He had to do it.  I just prepared for the screaming and we pushed on through.  At one point I actually used the stopwatch feature on my iPhone to precisely track the number of minutes he spent on his tummy each day.

But a funny thing happened- my smiley little boy wasn't so smiley anymore.  In fact, he was just generally annoyed.  He was tired of me danging things over his head (to get him to grab), putting him on his tummy and trying to get a push up, putting him on his tummy and then pushing him over so he got the idea of rolling over, etc.  And I was miserable because we have been doing this for three days, why is he not getting it!?

And then my aunt said something this weekend while she was here that struck a cord.  "Lindsey, have you ever seen a grown adult that can't roll over?"  Good point, Anne. 

So I'm turning over a new leaf.  He is going to have more tummy time than he was getting, but if it's 15 or 30 minutes and not 45, well then, who cares.  We are going to keep playing on the floor and rolling over, but when he shows signs of being done, he is done.  He will roll over.  It will probably be sooner rather than later, but even if it is later, it will happen.

We are going to ENJOY our time together.

Because I'm a type A.  And if a type A says she's going to enjoy it, dadgumit, that's what's going to happen.



* Definition pulled from Wikipedia, so there is a very good chance it was written by a 15 year old from Des Moine, Iowa who wanted to prove to his parents that they are, indeed, type A.

Three Months!

Little Man, how in the WORLD are you three months old?  Where has the time gone?

Drew, you were always a precious child, but you are so much fun as you become more and more interactive.  You LOVE to smile, especially if someone "boops" you on the nose or bicycles your legs.  You love to gurgle and coo and lay in your crib in the morning just talking.  We got you a crib mirror, and one day I realized you had gone completely silent (already strikes fear in my heart!).  I ran over you find you staring at this handsome man who had joined you in your crib!

I am beginning to tell that you are NOT a morning person.  It takes you a good 20 minutes to fully wake up in the morning and get happy.  But you do make some of the most precious grouchy face while trying to do so that make you hard to take seriously. 




Good Morning (Sunshine?)


You now LOVE to stand up.  If we hold you up, you will lock those little legs of yours and just stand there, and do a pretty good job of holding up your weight.  I always find it funny when you can't hold your head up anymore, because you start to look like one of those inflatable college mascots whose head just bobs everywhere.  This month I put together the walker that Cali gave you, and the jumper that MaMommie gave you, hoping these would allow you to stand up.  Problem is, your little legs are still a bit too short, so we have been solving that problem by putting books under your feet.  You aren't too interested in the gadgets and gizmos yet, but I do think you like to be able to stand unaided.

Speaking of gadgets and gizmos, mommy had a moment this month.  I hadn't put batteries in ANYTHING because I was tired of the brassy music that comes out of all children's toys.  But I finally got around to putting batteries in your "under the sea" playmat and realized that, once it is juiced up, it will play music and flash a light when you hit the items dangling over your head to encourage you to use your hands.  Had I known THAT I would have put those batteries in a lot sooner.  But you figured it out pretty quickly!

We didn't have a doctors appointment this month, so for the first time I don't know how long you are.  But we DID have to take you into the doctor a couple of days ago and you weighed in at 12 lbs, 10 oz.  Big boy!!  So I bet you are close to 13 pounds now, and you are getting HEAVY.  We took you to the doctor because I opened your pajamas and found you covered in red bumps.  Turns out, you have eczema.  The doctor said it was mild and it kicked in right at the time it got really cold in Austin and our heater was on all the time, so I think it will take a month or two to really know what we are dealing with.

Drew, you are a textbook child, which is just too funny.  You outgrew the end of your 0-3 month clothes about 2 days before you turned 3 months old.  You are exactly on that 50% mark for weight.  You started getting crabby and sleepy on Tuesday (your 3 month birthday), and when I looked it up, sure enough, most kids have a growth spurt around 3 months.  Eczema flairs up around 3 months.  You seem to be right on track.

Speaking of on track, the doctor DID say you have been spending too much time on your back.  You have continued to hate tummy time, and I haven't pushed it, but once she said that I realized we HAD to do it, whether you liked it or not.  Some quick time with google told me some parents put their kids on a pillow to prop up their chest.  We did that, and SURE ENOUGH, it worked.  Hallelujah.  So you are getting significantly more tummy time. I've also been known to let you take an afternoon nap on your belly when I know I will be around to keep your head out of the mattress. 

Tummy Time FAIL.

This month you celebrated Christmas, but really, you could have cared less.  You got tons of adorable things from your parents, grandparents and everyone else that loves you, but you weren't sure what was going on.  Everyone remarked that next year would be quite different, and it will be.  You also got to meet two of mommy's closest friends, Sara and Melanie.  I think they thought you were pretty cute.

This month we really started working on a sleep schedule for you.  You had been going to sleep when we did, around 10:30 or 11, and waking up a couple of times during the night.  Then you hit the magical 10-13 pounds number, where everyone said your little body should be able to drop a feeding, so we started right in on that process and tried to drop the middle of the night feeding.  This has resulted in us getting LESS sleep, since you still wake up just about every hour and have to be patted back to sleep.  Since you weren't getting the solid sleep you need, you were falling asleep in some of the funniest place.  See below for proof.

Your sister Sophie continues to be your best friend and protector.  She is always rightthere with us in whatever we do.  The other day, as you played on your under the sea mat and kicked your feet with glee, you continuously kicked the dog in the snout and eye.  And she didn't react or even move.  You guys are such a good team.

We love you, Drew.  If you can't tell, you light up our lives.

Mom and Dad

All the Single Mamas

I have a new found respect for single parents.  It. Is. Hard.

Rob was out of town at a bachelor party this weekend, and I had my cherub of a son all to myself Thursday through Sunday.  I had a few things to do (committee meeting for YWA, meeting with a friend of mine who is really involved in the Austin legal community, lunch with Vicki), but otherwise we were just going to hibernate and say out of the cold and rain.

I decided to use this time as a "Tummy Time Boot Camp."  It used to be that Drew got mad enough about being on his stomach that in his struggle to get off, he would pick his head up.  Now, not so much.  He just lays there and cries.  I tried putting all sorts of toys in front of him, playing music, laying on the floor and talking to him.  Sunday night, I figured it out.  I propped his chest under a pillow and faced him towards the TV (The Golden Globes).  Not sure if he was focusing on Megan Fox or just saw the colors, but he kept that head up and didn't cry.  I'm feeling a bit guilty about using the TV to make this work instead of some sort of classic wooden toy with lead free paint, but I'm getting over it.  Quickly.

The weekend went pretty well.  Drew was a doll for most of the weekend, but by Saturday night I think he was tired of my "entertain him every waking moment" plan, and started to break down.  So I sent Rob this gem of a text message:

"I will be leaving your son on the porch.  Please pick him up when you get in tomorrow."

It didn't help that I STILL have not properly cut his nails, so while he was fussing and flailing his hands he was slicing and dicing both of us.  He managed a cut in the middle of his forehead that had me calling him "Harry Potter" for a couple of hours.

Anyway, a bath got him happy again and I made it through the weekend.  I will say, it is REALLY hard to be "on" for 72 hours!  I don't know how single mothers (or the 17 year olds on Teen Mom) do it!

The very best part of the weekend?  When Rob got home on Sunday, Drew was sitting in my lap asleep. Rob was standing in front of us talking to me when Drew opened his eyes, took a second to focus, and then broke out in the BIGGEST smile when he saw his daddy.  It absolutely proves that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and that Drew is well aware of who his daddy is.

Light as a feather (?), Stiff as a twelve-week-old boy

Drew has a new trick.  If he could talk, it would be screaming "I don't WANT to do that!" 

Instead, if you try to get him to do something he doesn't want to, like get in his car seat or sit in the bumbo or bath tub (anything that requires bending at the waist), the boy goes RIGID.  It's like trying to strap a plank of wood into a five point harness.  Luckily he can't hold that position for too long so it's just a minor inconvenience when we try to get on the road, but I worry that as he gets stronger and more and more willful I might start losing the battle!

The funny thing is once he actually gets in his carseat/bumbo/bathtub, he has no issues with being there. He just never wants to sit.

I love this boy and all the little quirky things he does. :)