7

7 years ago, I was just finishing up student teaching and preparing to graduate from college with my B.S. in Elementary Education.

I was also preparing to have my first baby:

Yikes.

It was a time of firsts:

*First stretch marks

*First time wearing pants with elastic waists

*First time learning not to care how many people know how much you weigh

*First time learning not to care how many people see you while you are, um, indecent (gasp!)

*First time seeing incredibly high numbers on the scale and just hoping that, someday, I would weigh less than my husband again

Well, the day to have my baby finally came.

We got to the hospital at 5am for an induction.

At 6pm, they broke my water.

At 10pm, I pleaded for an epidural.

Yes.

I am woman enough to admit it.

I heart epidurals.

So, around 11, the nurse suggested me and the Lumberjack get some sleep before the baby came.

Sleep?!?!

Are you kidding me!

I laid there are all cozy in my bed watching Frasier reruns and watching the contraction monitor machine go berserk.

Seriously.

Watching Frazier reruns in a cozy bed is the only way to pass the time while dilating from a 6 to a 10.

I heart epidurals.

Well, around 2:30am, I knew something had changed and I was sure it was time to push.

But during my t.v. watching, the remote with the nurse call button had dropped onto the ground.

I could not reach it.

I was like a beached and paralyzed whale laying there in my bed.

I heart epidurals.

So.

The tv is on.

I cannot turn it off.

I cannot call the nurse.

I cannot get out of bed (but I still heart epidurals).

I cannot wake the Lumberjack.

Wait?

What!?

My Lumberjack?

Sleeping?

Sleeping while eagerly awaiting the birth of his firstborn?

That's unlike him.

But, alas, he was asleep.

So I start calling out,

"Um, help!  I'm ready!"

No one can hear me over the sounds of the Lumberjack snoring and the prompted laughter of Frasier's studio audience.

What's a gal to do?

So, I did the only respectable thing I could do . . .

I grabbed the only item within my reach:  the vomit bucket.

Then I took that bucket and chucked it at the Lumberjack.

Don't judge me.

Have you ever felt the sensation of a baby about to exit your body?

You would do it, too.

The Lumberjack woke up.

He was a tiny bit cranky.

He got the nurse.

And at 4:40am, Sweet Pea was born.

Oh, man.

Did our world change.

We had no idea what we were doing.

Seriously.

Not one clue.

At least I didn't want to superglue her mouth shut when she wouldn't stop crying.

But, I was pretty clueless, nonetheless.

I thought you had to change a baby's diaper after each and every feeding . . . even the 2am feeding.

So, I would feed her.

She would be all cozy and sleepy.

But instead of laying her back down, I would take her into her room, flip on the light, and begin changing her diaper.

Then she would do that classic newborn trick and pee all over herself during the diaper change.

Now, when that would happen with number four, I would just take a baby wipe to him and call it good.

But not with my firstborn.

I would strip her down and give her a full bath.

At 2am.

And then I would stare at her and wonder why she wasn't sleepy.

Oh, well.

Live and learn.

She is a precious girl who melts my heart.

She is a very helpful big sister.

She is awesome at everything.

She's just a kick in the pants.

Happy Birthday to Sweet Pea!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Day!

 

This week was my niece, Little Miss's, first birthday.

It has recently come to my attention that, frankly, I have too many kids.

And whenever we go to large family gatherings, I tend to lost track of said kids.

This is not ideal.

During these gatherings, I hear roaring and screaming and crying and running and pounding.

Imagine my embarrassment when I realize I have no clue where one of those kids are . . .

and I am caught gabbing in the kitchen.

So, I am starting a new tradition.

I will refer to it as my:

"You kids had better be quiet and behave at this here party" talk.

I told my girls they could not yell, scream, or run.

Daisy Mae:  Uh-oh.  Is Uncle Alex going to be there?

Me:  No.

Daisy Mae:  Oh, good.  Then we won't roar.

Yes.

They have an uncle.

He is a functioning and well-adjusted adult.

Yet, he has a roaring problem.

I know.

It doesn't make sense.

Okay-party time.

Please notice the little orange ball.

That ball belongs to my sister-in-law, Lisa.

Lisa.

When we got home, Handsome Dude emptied his pockets. 

He stole your ball.

He also stole a small motorcycle.

Please do not worry.

I have seized the stolen goods and will be returning them to you promptly.

Handsome Dude:

Apparently, he is a thief.

Who knew?

Oh, just look at him:

I can just imagine what he is thinking here.

"Look at all that food your mom is making you eat.  Bummer."

Oh, silly, clueless, Handsome Dude.

His mother also made him a plate.

And if he would have eaten his meal quickly, like that other good boy did, he could have joined the others for some enjoyable play time.

But, no.

We had to be difficult.

I had to sit there and ensure that he ate that food for a good 45 minutes.

Note to self:

Please add, "You will eat your food and be thankful for it" talk to the list of "talks to give when going to someone's house."

Thank you.

Time for presents!

Look at that child on the left with her underwear pulled up a foot above her pants.

Whose child is that?

Pop Quiz:  What happens when it is your first birthday and you have 10 older cousins there to help you celebrate?

I told Little Miss's dad that he looked like the Pied Piper of Hamelin.

He did not know who the Pied Piper of Hamelin was.

Do you?

Please notice the lovely young lady at the far end of the picture, behind the couch.

That is mean friend #1.

You know?

As in the "three mean friends who are keeping me accountable on Weight Watchers?"

Dieting . . . it sure puts a damper on things.

Shhhh.

Don't tell her that while writing this post, I consumed an entire bag of Homestyle popcorn all by myself.

Look at how much fun she is having with my Little Dude.

She is one of those amazing people who bonds with any and every kid.

I wish I could be a fun mom like her.

I bet she doesn't have to give her kids "talks" before large family events either.

*sigh*

Little girls and their dolls . . .

Little Miss was enthralled with her baby doll.

She gave her a big ol' smooch, right away.

I think Little Miss enjoyed her special day.

Although she seemed a tad overwhelmed at times.

I can just imagine what she must have been thinking . . .

"Who are all these people and where did they come from?"

"Why is no once concerned about that hot, fiery flame?"

"Well . . . I don't know what has gotten into all of these people . . . but this is the best day ever!"

A Lumberjack Thanksgiving, part two.

Yes, I am one of those crazy peoples who wakes up extremely early to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving.

The Lumberjack and I have an agreement:

During October and November he can hunt on any day that he has off from work . . .

but I get Black Friday.

I usually go shopping with my mother.

We decided to wait and start shopping at 6 this year, as opposed to the usual 430 or 5 start time.

My cell phone alarm was set for 5:15am.

And at 4:49am I got a text from:

 Melissa.

I'm not gonna lie . . . it was pretty annoying.

The text even sounded perky:

"Where are you going to be?  I just passed Kohl's and it is packed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Melissa.

4:49am is far too early for such an excessive number of exclamation points.

So, ma and I shopped till we dropped.

I got back to my house just in time to tidy up for the evenings festivities.

Our town has a parade and fireworks ceremony the day after Thanksgiving.

So all of my in-laws came over and we walked downtown.

Before we go any further, we must make mention of this guy:

Alex.

This is a picture of him from last summer.

Do you remember this one?

The event where he was attacking anyone, ages 3 months-87 years old with water balloons?

Alex, Alex, Alex.

So, Alex is really into roaring.

Roaring? you ask.

Yes.

Roaring.

As in, roaring like a lion.

When he gets around my fab four, he gets the urge to roar.

No words can describe this roar.

It is horrifying and obnoxiously loud.

And here's the thing:

HE DOES IT CONSTANTLY.

Can you see the new girl in this picture?

She is the lovely creature wearing the white coat.

Her name is Holly, and she may or may not be in a relationship with the roarer.

We are not certain.

But recent events on my Facebook news feed have led me to believe that Holly must be fond of roaring.

Because she'll be hearing it an awful lot.

If they are actually together, that is.

Jason.

Thank you, Lord, that Jason is not into roaring.

Amen.

Pa-in-law with Handsome Dude.

Waiting for the fireworks to start . . .

Ma-in-law with Daisy Mae.

Boredom.

Fireworks!

WooHoo!

Now, back to our house to celebrate Alex and Ma-in-law's birthdays.

Alex was sentenced to a "time out" on the couch.

He was asked repeatedly to stop roaring in the house.

He just didn't listen.

He was, however, allowed to open his presents while in his time out.

Now what could my lovely mother-in-law want for her birthday?

A firearm.

Classy, Lumberjack.

Classy.

Our one final event for the night:  the family photo.

Alex is in the back row, farthest on the right.

Can anyone take a wild guess as to what Alex could possibly be doing?

*sigh*