Girl's Pint Out

Two weeks ago I happily made time for a girl's night out, Curtis willingly had a boy's night with Max and Tom was the one to recommend a perfect opportunity...

Girl's Pint Out
I was shocked to get a disturbingly pink email forwarded from Tom...but once I read through it, it all made sense. Beer.

The restaurant was called Arrogant Butcher and the menu was fantastic...or was it the Four Peaks Brewery Beer and the ladies who came to dine that made it fantastic?!? Mmmmm, either way the night was delicious.

Us ladies rode the Light Rail into the event and set up designated drivers so that we could all have a good time. We expected a five course menu of beer samplers, maybe getting 6 oz per course. As we walked to the restaurant from the LR station, another Phoenix "haboob-ie" poured dust into the Valley and we fought to stay on the sidewalk. When we entered the private room for our venue we were greeted with a full 12 oz can of Four Peak's Sun Brew.  Welcome indeed!  I looked forward to a pub favorite of Kilt Lifter (and that cheese fondue on the pretzels was heavenly).  I even enjoyed an IPA because of the complimentary dish of vinegary tabbouleh. Weird how pairing food really does do wonders...I was a shockingly a beer convert.

And the photo to the above is the Cask Aged Belgium Black Ale, my favorite indulgence by far. There were only 3 barrels left of this brew and we got one of these delicacies to enjoy with about 40 other women at the event. I was shocked how much I enjoyed it and that we were indulging in not one but TWO goblets of 8% beery goodness. Dessert was a great salty-sweet dish and by that point I had reached my limits...good food, great company and the night still wasn't over.  After this photo we still met up on Mill Ave with two other new moms who couldn't make dinner.  My batteries are recharged and the smile remains!

Gracie Lou Returns!

Good Morning Ride! Curtis set me free for my own solo motorcycle ride. We've had the opportunity to ride together twice since Max was born and I haven't gotten out since then, so this was a real treat.

I couldn't decide where to go, but I am glad I headed over to South Mountain for the curvy roads. Aw, shucks...posted signs...the roads are closed. [pout] Hit the ranger station at the base and expected to be told to take a U-turn like multiple other cars streaming ahead of me from the adjoining lot. HA! Not so, the rangers looked at me and looked at each other. Then I was given the waive through because they said it should be okay since the marathon was winding down.

Hells yeah, I got my own private road. And got in trouble with the law when I got up to the summit another ranger blocked my path by pulling his pick up truck perpendicular to my path. Uuuuh, excessive. He grouched at me for being up there, so I told him to call it in. Suddenly he went meek, put down his radio and mumbled that they hadn't told him. Yeah, because this bad ass girl looked so tough in all her protective riding gear. Riiiight.

I stayed and soaked up the scene for ten or so minutes, then headed back down. I got half way back down the mountain before 3 cars and 1 other motorcyclist were allowed up. I felt very privileged.

Auto-magical

Am I dreaming? ...yes, yes in fact I did! I got a full nights sleep and feel wonderful.

Oh my goodness, oh my good gracious I didn't think this day would ever come and now it has arrived! 24 weeks old and auto-magically Max has been sleeping through the night.  Two days ago I was grateful for the extra sleep and wasn't wanting to jinx it. Now this is more than just one fluke sleeping session. The kiddo is actually sleeping 7 and 1/2 hours at a time!

Max, just like your daddy...just when I think I can't love you any more, you go and do something wonderful like this. And today it is more than just the eight hours. Sure, you still woke up at 4AM...but now you went back to sleep. It has allowed me to take a shower and make breakfast after you relished your own morning milk. Now at 7AM we are enjoying a hearty egg, zucchini, tomato and pepper jack cheese burrito with a side of coffee (aaah, sweet elixir of enjoyment and not necessity!).

Should I tell you a secret...?

You already know my love of sushi...and now I think I am making up for lost time.  All you can eat Sunday and Monday nights (4-9P for $20)...plus the happy hour is fantastic ($5 sake bombers).

I don't want my favorite joint to become over crowded, but keep the business coming because the sushi is fresh. And the chef's have been on target...go indulge:

Hon Machi - Sushi and Cocktails
1949 W Ray Rd, Ste 32
Chandler, AZ 85224

(480) 963-0400
http://www.honmachirestaurant.com/

Birth Story: The Novel

Let's go back to the beginning for Max...

Our son was born February 21st @ 3:41PM. He was a healthy 6 pounds, 10 ounces and 20 inches long. Little man has tons of dark hair upon his head and even has blonde highlighted tips! (He must have been channeling the highlights Mom resisted getting for all the months of pregnancy). His APGAR score is high...already scoring at top of the class right from the start. Life is wonderful.

*****

Long Version:

By the end of my pregnancy, I felt kiddo drop down into my pelvis 3 weeks before he actually arrived. It was a concerted effort not to waddle like a duck. I said the fated words..."the one thing this kid could do to throw me off is to come in February." My predicted due date was March 15th and daily I kept thinking that it would be a miracle if I made it to March. It was a struggle to keep putting my feet up all the time to try and keep the puff of my kankles down to a non-super hero level of crazy.

Early February 21st/Sunday morning rolled around and I rolled my big old planet self out of orbit and out of bed to pee. I took just a few steps towards the bathroom door and I had a GUSH! Eeeep! I stopped for a brief moment to panic and then with closed knees scuttered into the master bath. Poking my head out the door I yelled to Curtis...What time is it baby? He reported it was 7:40...and I let him know, well it is actually time to go to the hospital. During the ride to the hospital I calmly called relatives and let them know my water had broken and Max would be making is big debut soon. [Jinx]

After some shenanigans of checking into the hospital, I was gowned up and was ready to meet my son. We were supposed to go for a tour of the hospital this very weekend...mon-o-man did we get one! I walked all around the halls of the hospital with Curtis by my side to try and make the labor progress naturally. I did lunges up and down the public halls because I "felt the need to do so." I hate lunges, so ya knew something was loco with me. In addition to the fact that I wanted to try for a natural birth!

Just like the whole pregnancy I always expected the worst and hoped for the best. This way I wouldn't be disappointed when things didn't go as planned. Sure enough, the nurses weren't excited about my progress since my water had already broken. So I got stabbed with antibiotics and was forced to walk around the hospital in a smaller circle with my IV on a pole. The nurse who tried to find a vein in two different places and kept rolling my veins multiple times was shocked at my calm. Later she vouched for my high pain tolerance when I was passed off to the next shift of nurses.

That shift came and went. So did multiple bags of pitocin to try and increase my contractions from a clockwork 2.5 minutes to something of a more rapid pace. No go. Now we are up to somewhere around 9PM and they tell me that they have super-saturated my body with pitocin and are going to take me off those meds to try and let my body do its natural thing. Fantastic. Oh yeah and they tell me to try and get some sleep. Yah, I'm still having intense contractions, thanks.

Bonus they do let me eat something. The driest turkey sandwich ever, but it was delicious. They even put a little vanilla pudding on my tray...oh heaven! Up until this point (over the last 13 hours) I was allowed ice, water, jello (the vitamin enriched kind from the hospital) and the occasional popsicle. I drank so much water because somewhere along the line I was told it could help reduce a tear. Between the saline IV and the water I was peeing gallons. And that isn't much of an exaggeration, they were measuring my output. Every hour I would set off my tummy monitors when they would shift off baby's heartbeat as I sat down and go pee in the bathroom with my ever-present IV pole. Those things (disks with a plastic spike sticking out of them, strapped to your prego belly with a tensioned elastic strap) gouged into my skin so deep I am surprised they moved.

Okay, more contractions. I paced my room, I sat on the exercise ball, I rocked in the rocking chair within the delivery room...more contractions. Intense contractions were fuzzed out by imagining myself on the ocean, my little innertube floating on top of the waves, I was breathing through them and using the monitors to visualize the strong tide. Curtis took a nap...I stayed bleary eyed for a while longer. Somewhere in there I did catch a few zzzz's.

Monday morning I needed his help. PUSH on those pressure points we learned in Lamaze class!!!! My contractions were back on crack...aka pitocin and now rating a solid 7 out of 10 on my pain scale and continuing to intensify. Curtis tried to keep up, but I realized that if I kept him at this pace his thumbs would fall off from pushing that spot behind my knees and eventually I would yell at him for it not helping. Okay, almost 5am...22 hours of natural child birth was enough for me. The anesthesiologist that knew my surgical history was getting off shift and I trusted him. The nurse pushed another bag of fluid through my IV.

The epidural came with the most pain I have ever felt fully awake. The pressure of the needle dropping into my spine made me nauseous as he rooted around to assure he had the right drop point. Oh good gawd I squeezed Curtis' hand tight and on the other side of me, the nurse's 2 fingers that she loaned me for support. (Can you tell she learned this lesson before?). After agonizing and breathless moments of trying to communicate back to the anesthesiologist which side of my body he was retching the needle to and fro...left and right....sweet serenity he let the drugs drop in!

They let me lay back down and I passed out shortly after that ordeal. I woke up chatty and feeling relief. And just like my original dream about Max, I thought...why was I going to do this naturally?!? The drugs were my saving grace as I figured I was going to end up having a Cesarean. More hours passed. Now it was even later Monday morning and I had to get baby boy to turn, he was sunny side up. Great. I obediently followed all instructions the 3rd shift of nurses gave me. Okay, mission accomplished.

Finally, I am dilated enough to push. A good 3 HOURS of pushing and the medical staff called it. Baby is stuck. Stuck?!? Yeah. Hm, okay c-section it is...I wait in line for surgery. I bump a scheduled set of twins, a v-back bumps me...I am now 3rd in line for surgery. My doctor has shown up and lets me know it is time.

32 hours later, Curtis is being overly reassuring as he sits near my head behind the sheet in the operating room. I am nervous, things are taking a bit longer then anticipated. The mood in the operating room is intense. The doctor uses his whole body pressure to tork the kiddo out of me. I feel...a pull up on my body that lifts my center up from the operating table. Then I waited, where was the sound? ....It was only a few seconds...it felt like an eternity. Mew. One sweet little cry out. Aaaah, the relief and the tears...my child is born...he's really here now!

I instantly pass out again from exhaustion and woke up after a bit to hear more intense, sweet crying as Max found his voice. The nurses wrapped up baby and bring him over to let me kiss him. I was instantly in love. Our son Max.

The doctors began repairing me and Curtis sweetly kissed me. He was sticking to our plan and going off with kiddo and the nurses to make sure we kept our baby safe. No need to stay with me, after all, I wasn't going anywhere and there was no mistaking my identity. After a severe pain in my shoulder and more drugs knocking me out...I woke up in the recovery room. My son was in the hospital bassinet on one side of me and my wonderful husband on the other.

Life is beautiful.

That's how we roll...

Keeping in real-time...


Max rolled over this Sunday from belly to back with the help of tracking a toy. Today he went from back to tummy because of his awesome flailing abilities.


Now, I am constantly asked how Lenny is doing in all this transition...and well, a picture speaks a 1,000 words. This is how much Lenny cares:





If the baby wails, he's chill. If Max is relaxing and having some tummy time on the floor, Lenny goes about his own day. The only real time Lenny was interested in Max was when we first brought him home.


Sniffing the baby's head = treat. Oh, he loved to be kind to Max! Two weeks later after Max was home, Lenny strutted up to Curtis and the baby on the couch, sniffed the kid's head and sat expectantly for his treat. Um, nice try.

You know it's love

When to use bathroom spray in the bedroom? Well, when your son uses his nursery as a bathroom. Okay, he's 5 months old and I can totally cut him slack because he does use his diapers. This morning became the new standard in Epic Poos.

That's right, people reading this with kids will nod their heads and are sure to have a "one-up" story that you are welcome to share. People without kids? Well, I will say poopie and make fart sounds...maybe that part will be entertaining. Or maybe visualizing the following 3 scenarios will make for enough entertainment.

#1 - Max is a clock-work morning pooper and this morning was a doozy. It wasn't a blow out, but more of a blow UP! The kid was in my lap after his bottle and after some grunting the smell emanated from his bum. Okay, time to go to the changing table. OR on a second evaluation, the new look of things designatied it was time to get out the hazmat suit. Poor kiddo had so much poop coming out of him that it rocketed out of his diaper, up his back and smeared up to his shoulder blades! Oooomph. Let the decontamination process begin.

#2 - Future job as an artist? No, he just likes overfilling his diaper with two colors of poo art with the occasional expansion of the canvas to any surface he is sitting on (my pants, the bouncy chair, his car seat, you get the picture). He gives a base of dark green and then adds a nice creamy swirl of yellow to the top. Ew. And isn't it funny that we use food references to describe to the doctors what his bowel movents look like. (e.g. Chunky peanut butter, clumppy oatmeal, dairy curds...oh, should I have warned you not to be eating while reading this post?!?)

Seriously, we are just happy the kid poops every day. There was a time when he would go 5-7 days without making a load. And man, was he an angry little thing! And really, who wouldn't be a little grouchy if you hadn't gone in a week!?!

#3 - The first real indoctrination into parenthood was at 4:30am when he was only a few months old. He had projectile poo. Max was going through the normal routine of bottle, then a diaper change, I was keeping the lights dim because back in the day he would go back to sleep this early in the morning. Tra-la-la-la, la-la. All was normal and calm for the wee little one. Diaper off, wiping down, get out the new diaper, clean bottom ready to be inserted into new wares...THEN I lift his legs (you see where this goes wrong). We are talking about poo shooting 3 feet out of his butt, across the changing mat and all the way over to his feeding chart at the end of the long dresser that we use as his changing table. In the middle of those two points he creamed his diaper caddy, multiple diapers, a burp cloth, the camquarter, a pen that was promptly thrown away and various bottles of lotion and diaper rash cream with a tubular projection of feces. Yeah, good morning to you too son.

You just know it's love when you wipe someone's back end, smile, clean them up, wrap them back up and snuggle them close. Then of course, you can be scared the next time you change thier diaper, but ultimately you will still willingly do it.

And no, there will be no pictures shared with this post. But as parents do, I admittedly texted Curtis photos of the epic 5-day blow out diapers when he was at work. Way to make dad proud Max.

Trapped Between Two Worlds

Right now I am very conflicted on what to do. I truly am trapped between the main worlds of Working-Mom and Stay-at-Home-Mom. (In addition to all the other roles we juggle...wife, home accountant, cook, cleaning lady, sister, daughter, friend, etc). I have had the advantage to work from home these past 3 months, but that is soon coming to an end. Technically I could only stay home with Max and not have a job, but I want to be prepared financially so it can make having kiddo #2 easier.

Yes, I just said that...I am planning for the next kiddo in the future. After all, I promised Max if he didn't break me, then he could have a sibling. Grant it this will be a while further down the road, but I would like to have the spoils of a larger house in a better neighborhood, etc before we welcome the next family member home. So this is the side goal rattling around in my head.

Okay, back to my inner conflict:
I love my son, I love watching his milestones happen right in front of me and they are happening FAST. Almost too fast and I feel like I don't appreciate this time enough, so I fear losing it with him. Then there is a part of me that still wants a break from the home, probably because we don't have family in town so there is no outlet for me besides the weekends where Curtis is home. The word 'career' tempts me too. Something other than Mom/homemaker to identify myself as and another area where I can grow mentally. Financially the job needs to be advantageous enough to make daycare not seem like a dent in the budget...but then it tears me up to think of the little one getting a flat head or some similarly awful/dramatic scenarios because they just leave him in a crib crying all day (or something).

From the outside world / their views:
Max may not know the difference because he is so young, but then will I ever step back and focus on being just Mom? (Are you hearing this conflict of ideals here? --Am I just being stingy because somehow I want the best of both worlds?!?!) Curtis is supportive of my final decision, but lets face it, he is still greedy for the paycheck too and I am sure my working would take some pressure off of him. Co-workers act like I need to get serious and stop "playing" with my son and come back to work in the office. ***For anyone who stays at home to watch your beloved children you know how these types of comments make your blood boil because my GAWD staying home to raise a child is damn hard work.*** And then surprisingly other stay-at-home mommies don't view me as one of their own either. They get ticked off when I decline their play group invite because of work and then they want to complain to me that they missed taking one of the many daily naps with "little Suzie" today. Strange paradox, I know. I can also aknowledge that I don't have their same life either and have trouble relating with some of their daily woes. Maybe they are just having an identity crisis like me and the naps are simply what they have to chat about that day. ...?

So overall I feel like a bit of a misfit. Not quite sure what I am looking for by posting this gush of confusion...maybe some pointers, maybe just a vent, maybe just to reach out and let other moms know they aren't the only one letting this kind of stuff roll around in their heads all day too. Only time can really reveal what will happen.

Being a parent was described to me by another new working-mom as GUILT. There always seems to be self doubt as you wonder how the little things you do impact your little one's life. I am certainly feeling the stress creep higher as my deadline to come back in the office approaches. I want the best for Max and for me. It is sad if I don't stay home because I have that phenomenal opportunity. I also feel selfish because tons of other moms would kill for the advantage to not put their kids in daycare. Now, here I am debating on trying to juggle back in the ball of full-time work that separates me from the time I can never regain with our son.

Going back to work? ...but at what real expense to my family?

Spoiler Alert!

Alright, so it's been a half a year...are you still there?

As Ricky Riccardo would say...Lucy, you got some 'splannin to do!


Slowly but surely I will fill in the blanks and we will catch up. :) Here is the fastest summary of the last 6 months since I really did a proper post:


Since the previous photo of 35 weeks was posted (finally).



I was only pregnant for 2 more swollen weeks...




This was the morning right before we went to the hospital, I had no makeup on, we were running out the door and I wanted one more photo to show how big I got (dang). At this point I did not know what the word 'contraction' really meant yet.









And BAM! Max is 5 months old now....cute little chubby cheeks, mohawk and all.

8 Months Pregnant

35 weeks...aka ouch

Highlights

Now I am officially 8 months...here is the "catch you up" version on changes:

• I have just under 2 months to go as a human incubator (aka The Vessel --my friends are too creative)
• Baby Max is using my bladder as a bouncy house
• I joke that if we played a game like "if I could be any sports car, I'd be..." that I'd be a Winnebago with a pop out living room extension
• Currently Max is working on adding an expansion wing to his "mansion"
• My belly button has not completely unraveled (yet) --it is dangerously close
• When he has the hiccups I think it is hilarious
• Now as he wiggles and flips I feel distinct bum, head, kicks and punches
• I wake up in the middle of the night all the time to either pee or just turn my massive self onto the other side
• Reaching down I can put my hand on him, feeling distinctly a child in there! Squee!!!

Disclaimer: These are only truths for me and I am barely an expert on what is happening to me right now. Never repeat these to another prego and think you are funny. Also, never comment on her weight/size, ever (never, ever). Humor may be the main objective you have...but seriously, value your life and don't upset a prego, we are going through enough getting our minds wrapped around all these changes.

My Husband, My Hero

My husband is my hero. Not only did he paint the baby's room...he also removed a TREE from the toilet!!!

Check out the photo. Thank heavens my hubby is a handy man...he took off the porcelain to find this massive root infestation creeping around the wax ring at the base of the toilet!!! (And to clarify, thankfully that is mud). Thank you Curtis, I am so proud that you can do stuff like this!