Jun 28, 2015

Smiley

Simon turned five months on Tuesday and naturally, I had to take a bunch of pictures for such a HUUUGE milestone. :) Everything is a mile stone from a mother's point of view, right? I love experiencing little milestones all over again-- He smiled? Awww. He laughed? Awww. He did a half roll? Awww. He cough-farted? Awww. Yes, we celebrate the first of everything around here. And this is the part where I start bragging about how awesome my baby is and bombard you with lots of pictures.  

I will refer to Simon as Smiley from here on out though because -- do I really need to explain? I mean look at him. Ryan got home from work early and came home to me taking his pictures and jumped in on the 5 month photo shoot.  It's a good thing too, because rubbing his grizzly scratchy beard on Smiley's neck really brought out the giggles. 

Smiley has been that chubby blob of constant happiness and joy in this home. We started introducing solids a few weeks ago and I'm already seeing this kid is going to put a huge dent in our grocery budget. Smiley can really put the food away, like really put the food away. This makes me extremely happy. I'm not the only one who finds joy watching their kids eat a lot of food, am I?-- I know, I'm weird. I just want to fatten them up so I have more squishy kids to cuddle up with.


Jun 26, 2015

the birthday father

I don't think Ryan will ever let me forget the year I didn't do anything for his birthday. That was last year, and it was kinda a big one-- the big 30. But I really do have a valid excuse, or at least I'm really good at making myself feel better with not-so-valid excuses. First, we had just moved to Austin, Texas like 5 days prior. Second, we were living in a crammed hotel room. Third, I didn't know the area or have any special idea where to take him out. Fourth, it was crazy hot and humid, I thought I was going to die just walking from our hotel room to the car. And lastly, but most importantly, I was in the very early stages of pregnancy with Simon. That stage where all I want to do is sleep all day because my sleep at night is nonexistent. He was gifted a 5lb bag of peanut M&M's and a dinner to Texas Roadhouse. TEXAS freaking ROADHOUSE? We're in Texas with all these amazing bbq places that I have no idea where they are and we end up at Texas Roadhouse? It's a little comical, but their rolls and honey butter don't have me feeling TOO bad. 
Anyway, Ryan couldn't care less, but the whole thing turned into a joke and me promising to make it up to him next year. It also doesn't help that his birthday is the same weekend as Father's Day... He was gypped Father's Day, too. 

I know he's been wanting to go fishing, so I ended up renting us a pontoon boat to take to the lake. Ryan did a little fishing, I did a little bit of relaxing, Simon did a lot of sleeping, and Lincoln did a lot of eating.

It ended up being an awesome day together and it probably had something to do with me getting in the water. I'm the loser who doesn't like swimming in lake water. I'm such a wimp to any water below 85 degrees and not being able to see below me really freaks me out. I think the Loch Ness monster and movies like Anaconda have ruined me, and I've never even seen that movie... Anyway, maybe it was the fact that Ryan turned 31 and I'm realizing that one day I'll be in my 30's (heaven forbid) that made me feel a little crazy and spontaneous that day and I did something crazy, I got in the lake. But I didn't just get in the lake, I stayed in the lake and swam in the lake. I was like a little kid laughing and screaming "Look at me!!!! I'm swimming in the lake!!!! THIS IS SO LIBERATING!!!" (Even as I'm typing this I'm thinking I need to get out more if swimming in the lake is liberating HA!) But it WAS!! My boys all thought I was crazy, I'm sure, and they're right.  



Jun 8, 2015

and a not so memorable memorial day weekend


Onto our 4 month old Smiley Simon and him discovering his tongue. 90% of his pictures, from here on out, will feature his tongue protruding from his mouth. It really ups the cute-factor on this little man. These pictures are a little late, but with a valid excuse. 
We had made plans Memorial Day weekend to stay in a beach condo. Three days before leaving, I started developing a headache, each day getting worse and worse. We were planning on leaving first thing Saturday morning, but by Friday night, I thought I was literally dying--literally. The headache turned into the most debilitating migraine. I couldn't get any relief from medication. The slightest light or any noise softer than a whisper brought shooting pain to my head. I couldn't walk, I couldn't lay down, I couldn't move. Around midnight, I began feeling nauseous and had developed a high fever. After throwing up, I decided  I really needed to go to the hospital. 

After a CT and spinal tap, I found out I had meningitis. MENINGITIS! WHAT THE HECK!? On top of the meningitis, I almost had a heart attack after they told me they needed to admit me for a few days until they determined whether it was bacterial or viral. You're joking right? I have two kids at home, one of which is a 4 month old that's solely breastfeeding, PLUS, we are leaving town in the morning for the beach!!! That wasn't enough to convince them to change my diagnosis and let me go home. 

It was so hard for me to be away from my family, especially Simon. I knew Ryan and Lincoln would manage just fine without me, but I hadn't been away from Simon more than 3 hours since he's been born. I was convinced that Simon would starve because he wouldn't take a bottle, Ryan would have a breakdown taking care of two kids on his own, and that our house would probably burn down. Pretty much, no one would survive and everything would fall into shambles because the mother of the house wasn't there.  Through a humbling reality check to my ego, I learned it wasn't the end of the world for my children or husband--they all survived just fine without me. 

I'm sure it was a mixture of no kids, no house to clean, no meals to make and let's not forget, the lovely concoction of narcotics they were giving me, but my hospital stay sure felt like a much needed mommy-vacation. I laid on my adjustable bed in my robe, having people come check-in on me to see if I needed anything, and I even ordered room service.

Speaking of room service--

I was starving Saturday and called down to place an order for lunch around 11. By 3 I was hungry again and called down to order more food. 

The lady asked me.."Oh! Did you not like the lunch we sent you earlier?" 

"Uhh...yes, it was great." (Okay I'm embarrassed now) "I'm just still really hungry and that first meal was more like a late breakfast for me."

Is severe hunger a sign of meningitis? No? Well, that was really awkward then. 

By Sunday, my results came back viral and they began to cut back on drugs to see how my pain would be. I wasn't 100%, but the fact I was able to turn my head side to side without feeling like an artery was going to burst and after eating the two desserts I just ordered, I was feeling pretty dang good. I was able to go home by that afternoon and thank goodness because seriously, look at this kid, I couldn't stay away from him much longer. 
My parents flew out for a week to help take care of the kids while I was still recovering. It was pretty much the best thing ever. I slept more than I have in a very long time, my mom kept the house clean and cooked some meals. GLORIOUS. Unfortunately, the day they left is the day we found out Ryan had contracted meningitis, too! Luckily, his case was not as severe and he recovered quickly. 

guess what!? 

this home is meningitis free now!! YIPPEEE! 

Jun 4, 2015

potty talk

This post was from a month ago.... but I forgot to share! So even though this experience was traumatizing to ME, not Lincoln, we attempted some more potty training this past week and he's officially potty trained at home. I haven't been brave enough to take him out of the house without a diaper on... I'll save that adventure for a day when daddy can take him out. :)

A few snapped pictures that were post-nap, mid- snack time, and pre- buzz cut. 
We aren't really potty training in this household, yet (Or at least that's what I need to tell myself as an excuse for the horrific story I'm about to share). I was eager to potty train Lincoln after Simon was born to lessen the diaper load-- literally, but changing diapers on two kids isn't such a terrible trade-off considering the mess I've had to clean up already. Plus, Lincoln is already abusing the rewards system so I've already had a glimpse of the nightmare I'm going to be dealing with when I go full force on potty training. For example, this morning he went pee 3 separate times within 5 minutes-- I think he's mastered pinching-off mid flow to get more treats out of it.

Lincoln has used his potty a handful of times now, completely random over the past couple weeks. He will usually tell me when he needs to go, but the battle is getting him to go sit on the toilet. Even after I get excited for him and remind him he gets a special treat after, he still says NO! When has a special treat NOT worked on Lincoln? UGH!. 

One morning, he told me he needed to go and agreed to go sit on the potty!! YAY! He took care of business and he got a special treat! I wasn't in a rush to put a diaper on; clearly he emptied himself well, or so I thought. We were standing in the kitchen when he told me he had to poop again, and as I'm asking him if he needs to go sit back on the potty, PLOP! It hit the floor. I swooped him up to go put him on the potty, but then he started reaching his hand back to his bottom and got it all over his hands. I set him down next to the dining table to quickly grab a wipe for  his hands, but then another one plopped on the floor! SERIOUSLY? ANOTHER ONE? Forget his hands, I need to get this kid back on the toilet, STAT! I ran him to the bathroom and he started screaming bloody murder because he didn't want to sit down and I'm screaming bloody murder to make him sit down. He won that battle. So he stood in the doorway to the bathroom and dropped another one. Seriously. Another one. I had three separate piles of toddler feces in my house. THREE. I'm so glad he was keeping that all stored up just for this morning. Mind you, it wasn't even 9am yet. I wanted someone to knock me out with a bat, put me to bed, clean and sanitize my floors, and not wake me up until my son was potty trained.  Any takers?