“Wizzlers, Jejush, Cocadots and Pupcakes”

Just a few very cute and funny 4 year old mispronunciations (for Twizzlers, Jesus, Polkadots and Cupcakes) that we won’t be hearing around here on a daily basis anymore.  We went to St. Louis last week to give Hailey, our niece who has been living with us since January, her 4th birthday party and to return her to her mom. It was a drama filled week for sure, and without going into too much detail I will just say that we are hopeful and fairly confident that she is where she needs to be now.  She will be living with her mom and grandparents and be close to her cousins and other aunts and uncles.  She was greatly missed by them all, and she herself was elated to return.  She was especially overjoyed to be reunited with her mother.  It was a bittersweet farewell on our part.  We love her so much and will definitely miss her, but at the same time, it’s nice to be able to just be “new parents” to Kendall without having to figure out how to raise a preschooler at the same time.    I feel like we can finally focus on each other again and enjoy this time together without all the stress.  We’re glad we could help for the 7 months that we did, and we will always be there for Hailey in the future.  We’re also happy to see her happy and back where she wants to be.

So with that, I will just share a few funny moments that have come from taking on a preschooler while pregnant/ a new mom.

Hailey: “Aunt Jill….how are you going to GET that baby out of your stomach?”
Me: “Well….I’m going to push him out.”
Five minutes later I feel two small hands pressing on my lower back.
Me: “What are you doing?”
Hailey: “I’m helping you push him out!”

At around 8 months pregnant Hailey finds my Bradley Method book.  She is fascinated by the baby book.  I don’t think much of it because it is keeping her quiet and I am able to do the dishes in peace.  I see she has found the pages that have actual pictures of birth… like with heads crowning and all.  Oops!  I don’t want to rip the book out of her hands and make her feel bad.  It’s totally natural afterall, right?  I go sit next to her and she looks up with the most confused face.  “What are they DOING?”  “They are having a baby.”  “But that baby is coming out of her…her….her butt!  Is your baby going to come out of your butt?”  “Uhhmmm… yeah… kind of.”  Pause….pause…pause…. “Eww!  Gross.”  She closes the book and begins playing with her Barbie.

The first time she helped change his diaper Kendall gave her a water show and peed all over the place.  She ran around the apartment shrieking, “He’s PEEING!!!  He’s PEEING!!  Aunt Jill, that baby just peed all over the place!”  She then reassured me, “Aunt Jill, I’m a big girl.  That’s why I don’t pee on the walls like Kendall”.

And Hailey was always my little helper.  God knows she shook his carseat plenty of times when he would start screaming.  She even knew which pacifier he liked best and informed me of this.  She told me he like the Nuk when he was just a little upset and the Soothie when he was really upset.  She was absolutely right.  She fetched me wipes and diapers and diaper cream.  She kept a watchful eye on Kendall if I had to step away for a minute (not that I would leave him in a dangerous situation.  I was never counting on her to catch him from falling off a counter top, for example).  And she loved to feed her babies alongside me.   Every time she saw me sit down to feed Kendall she would grab whatever breastfeeding pillow I wasn’t using, pull up her shirt and “feed” her doll.  This absolutely appalled her uncle when he came for a visit and we had to talk about being “discreet”. She was a riot a lot of the time and we will surely miss her comic relief around here.  I think Scott is going to miss “going to the ball” with her too.

12 weeks 6 days

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HOME!!

Wow. What’s that saying? Something about how life isn’t the destination, it’s the journey, I think. Well, if that’s the case, my life can be summed up as one crazy ass ride these last few months. Tonight is the first time in weeks that I’ve been able to sit down at the computer and digest what’s happened, and even still, I’m doing it surrounded by haphazardly packed boxes that may never be purged of their contents (“Honey, I need a towel.” “Oh, they are in the black garbage bag sticking out from under the box full of CDs and socks…give me a sec and I’ll dig one out for you.”) and walls that appear to have been painted by the freaking Easter Bunny (Seriously. My Kitchen has one yellow, one purple, one orange and one green wall. We are in for one hell of a painting challenge.)

Our life has completely changed. We are homeowners (yay!) in a part of the country that couldn’t be more different than where we moved from. Instead of having 4 Starbucks, a Whole Foods and a Trader Joe’s within 2 miles of our place, we have 2 Home Depots, 2 Walmarts and a Tractor Supply store. As we pulled into our neighborhood we noticed the Nissan Xterra in front of us had two goats riding in the back. And we learned that we are NOT to buy or even SPEAK of ATVs on Sundays. For real. A sign placed atop the ATVs at the Tractor Supply store reads:

“In accordance with Texas State Law, we are prevented from discussing the features and pricing or selling of ATVs on any SUNDAY.

We ask that you return during our operating hours Monday through Saturday if you have an interest in this product.”

Let me tell you that all this sign does is make me want to march in there every Sunday and ask a shitton of questions about ATVs. And when someone slips up and engages in conversation with me about them I will tell them I am with Dateline, doing an in-depth investigation on petty law violations, and that I have them on hidden camera and that the footage will be shown to the CEO of Tractor Supply. Good times…

But despite losing out on a little of our once somewhat urban, fast paced, corporate lifestyle, it’s been nice moving into a house big enough for everyone to enjoy in a neighborhood that seems to be full of really nice families. I’ve already been invited to Malibu Sundays by some of the women across the street from me. Apparently they get together every Sunday evening to indulge in some Malibu Rum libations. Now, that’s a community meeting I can really get behind. And another big trade off for us has been that I get my husband’s nights back. He worked the night shift for the last 4 years and it is so nice to be back on a normal schedule again.

Of course, getting here was total and utter madness, complete with several fights/screaming matches daily between me and Scott. Luckily, we were in separate vehicles most of the time so that we couldn’t do any bodily harm to each other, however our cell phones took a beating (can’t count how many times I slammed it shut). It didn’t help that half the time I was screaming over the yelps of Kendall from the back seat. He HATES riding in the car now and seems to begin wailing at just the mere sight of his infant car seat. Ahh…that’s enough for a whole other entry.

Anyway, I really have so much more to write about, but I’m so exhausted and can’t get my thoughts together. I feel like I’m rambling. I will just leave you all with a funny story about Hailey (our nearly 4 year old niece that is currently living with us). We didn’t get out of VA until 4 in the morning after a full day of packing. Hailey crashed in an empty room around 11 pm and we put her in the Jeep asleep when we left. We made it a whopping hour outside of DC before we had to stop for some sleep. We all piled into one hotel room with two double beds (all of us being me, Scott, my sister, Scott’s brother, Hailey, Kendall, two large dogs and a cat). Hailey woke up just as we were all dozing off and asked, “Hey, where’s my bathroom?” Scott explained, “We all have to share the bathroom here, Hailey. ” “But, Aunt Jill said I get my OWN bathroom,” she pouted. “What? I never said you get your own bathroom at the hotel,” I sleepily muttered. Scott notices she starts to cry. “What’s wrong?” he asks. She doesn’t say anything. Then I come out of my sleepy haze and it hits me. “Hailey, do you think this is our new house?” She nods yes. Hahahahahahahahahaha!! “Oh, honey! NO. This is a hotel! We are moving to a MUCH bigger house than this.” And with that reassurance, she passes out.

Okay. I’ll be back soon with more. Just wanted to let you all know we are alive (although we did nearly die when I accidentally cut off a semi coming out of Cracker Barrel in Tennessee).

Kendall is 9 weeks 4 days old

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What is your malfunction???!!!!!

Stop crying…just stop…stop… please…. PLEASE STOP… just 30 minutes…. I just want a shower…. please…. stop…. STOP!!!!   Have you officially lost your mind when you are negotiating out loud with a 2 week old?  I have lost it.  I am insane.  I have done this to myself.  What do you want?!

You are changed, you are burped, you are warm, you have napped, you just ate 1.5 hours ago…but wait, let me guess… you are hungry AGAIN!  Ugh.  Seriously?  I have a whole new respect for dairy cattle.  You do know these boobs are mine, right?  That’s right buddy, always have always will be mine.  They are merely on loan to you.  So I would treat them with a little more respect if I were you.  I don’t know what the hell you do to make my nipples burn so bad.  Do you know I want to cry just THINKING about the next time I have to pop these babies into your mouth (which is clearly lined with razor blades)?  I thought breastfeeding is supposed to be a loving, bonding experience, not cruel and unusual punishment.

And could you just, for one freaking day, be unhappy when you are on your father’s watch (however brief that may be)?  Is it seriously necessary to CRY all night long until you pass out from exhaustion at 3 in the morning?  Can you not get this out of your system from 5 to 7 pm?! I think your dad thinks I’m a lunatic, or that I’m weak, or both.  Well, he has to believe me because I make sure I call him every damn time you are shrieking while he’s gone to offer him evidence of why I’m such a raging bitch when he’s home.

I thought I could escape this cave today.  That we could all have a nice outing.  I timed it perfectly.  2 hours of freedom between feedings.  Ballet class for Hailey…. FAIL.  The last one was LAST week, which we would have known if we actually remembered to take her to it last week.  Okay, so we’ll go get some ice cream at DQ instead… FAIL. I left my wallet at home.  Go home to get wallet.  Back to the store.  You aren’t asleep anymore.  You are now getting fussy.  It’s only been 1 hour and 15 minutes since your last feeding.  I change your very dirty diaper.  Still not happy.  Head to Whole Foods in search of a new water bottle… FAIL.  You are screaming too loud to even try to look for anything.  I notice other new moms with fussy babies.  They are so sweet to them.  They rock them gently and the baby stops.  They sweetly talk to them and push them out to the car to go home. I am looking at you saying, “That is enough.  Seriously.  I don’t know what you want.  You have no reason to be crying.  Please stop.  I’m not going to listen to it anymore.”  I realize I sound like such an idiot/incompetent parent.  I quickly head back to the car. Hailey still wants ice cream.  I feel bad she’s had to listen to all this and didn’t get to go to ballet.  We head to McDonalds for shakes.  You are screaming so loud that the lady can’t even hear my order.  I am crying in line for milkshakes at McDonalds.  I get home.  Scott meets us outside to help get you out of the car.  I have called ahead for back up.  Of course, you have STOPPED FUCKING CRYING!!  I feed you.  I don’t even eat the milkshake I got for myself because it’s dairy and it’s chocolate – two things that supposedly turn you into the demon child.  See?  I have given up chocolate and ice cream for you!  Please be nicer to me.

NOW you decide to nap.  Now that you can go lay down with your dad.  I want to go nap with you, but it’s not even worth the 30 minutes of sleep I will get before you will inevitably decide you want to eat AGAIN.  Disrupted sleep is worse than no sleep sometimes.  It is a form of torture to only let someone sleep 2 hours at a time.

18 days old

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“I don’t have breasts!”

Since I’m up and rarely have the time or energy to blog, I thought I’d take a few precious minutes to blog a funny niece story. Since she’s moved in with us we’ve gone to great lengths to make her feel involved in this baby process. She is beyond excited to be the big “cousin sister” and can’t wait to help out with everything. I got her a book from the writers of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. It’s a children’s book called What to Expect When the New Baby Comes Home. It’s probably her favorite book and I can’t count how many times we’ve read it. A section of the book talks about how some babies drink from bottles and some babies drink milk from breasts (and yes, we call them breasts…I’m not about to have her tell someone I’m “boobie feeding” the baby). We’ve even talked about how bottles and breasts have nipples. She’s quite educated on the process.

Flash forward to a few nights ago… our childbirth class instructor let us borrow a breastfeeding DVD. We popped it in while Hailey happened to be in the room. She sat down and watched it with us. She was quiet at first, seemed intrigued, then she piped up, “that’s a breast!” We applauded her correct identification. Then she paused and thought for a moment and said…”I don’t have breasts” to which my husband awkwardly said, “Well..no…you don’t…uh…not yet,” and she proudly responded, “but I have nipples!” Okay, that was pretty funny, but not even the best part of this story.

We had to return the DVD that night and on the car ride over there she kept saying, quite adamantly, “YOU can’t feed your baby like that….YOU can’t breastfeed.” I told her that I indeed could and really hope to do so for at least a little while. The more I responded to her this way, the angrier she got until she damn near threw a temper tantrum over it. I could not understand what her problem was. She had no problem talking about breastfeeding before. Finally my husband turned around and point blank asked what her problem was with me breastfeeding. Her response – “That will make ME and baby VERY unhappy….I don’t have BREASTS!” Hahahahahahahahaha!! That cracked me up.

33 weeks 3 days

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