Friday, March 25, 2011

Louisa...the Fun Never Ends.

So, I left out one of the lessons that I have learned in the last 5 weeks. Here we go. A new baby is like a cat. Or, at least like every cat I have ever had. As soon as I clean out my cat's litter box, she goes in and poopies in it. It NEVER fails. Happens every time. Well, Nash is the same. Minus the litter box, paws and fur. As soon as I change the boy's diaper (the whole time scared in my skivvies that his you-know-what is going to get me again) he poos. Never fails. This will make it very interesting come soon when I start the cloth diapering. I may try to see if I can 'fake him out' somehow. Or, just litter-box train him. :)

And I jinxed myself the other day. Something awful too. I was just thinking that it had been some time since Louisa had done something to make me cringe. Then I realized this is probably because I hardly ever go out in public anymore! But, she paid me back today. Such a sweetheart. Well, let me introduce to you my '3 strikes you are OUT and have lost window-rolling-down privileges' story. She came back in full force. Yay for me.

Let's rewind back a month or two since I know I put it on Facebook, but don't think I blogged it. We were at the bank drive-thru and the sweet guy always gives Lou a sucker. Well, I always roll down the window so she can tell the guy thank you since he is so sweet to do that for her. So, one day when he gave her a purple sucker and I rolled down the window this is what came out instead of a sweet thank-you. I will put all caps to imitate the volume in her voice, as I saw even the people inside the bank look. "I DON'T LIKE THE PURPLE SUCKERS. DEY ARE SOOOO NASTY! I ONLY WANT THE RED SUCKERS PLEASE!" So, poor sweet bank teller who looks like he doesn't have children of his own yet, or at least a Louisa, ducks, fumbles and grabs a red sucker and puts it in the box as quick as he can to give to me. I am mortified and angry and from then on out he only gives her red suckers. And he smirks every time. I think he feels sorry for me. Ha. And you know it, she complains every time because she wants a purple one. One would have thought that was lesson enough about rolling down her window.

Nope. I did it again. Once again, we were at the bank drive-thru. However, we now have a new teller...but Louisa has a reputation so she still only gets the red suckers. :) This guy is even younger and for shizzle doesn't have kids at home. So, I roll down her window so she can tell him thank-you and instead this is what he gets. "Wow, your hair sure looks funny! It makes you look like an alien, hahaha!" Holy shit balls and fire! Really Louisa!!?? This is when you wish the windows had a speed roll-up on them. I turned about 50 shades of red, apologized and couldn't tell if his laughter was real or not...and then I drove away, very quickly and pondered if I could swap banks. I no longer let her say thank you at the bank, I say it for her - but the sweet teller always waves to her and smirks. I think we both have a reputation there now. Lou for her fiery-ness, and I think they just feel sorry for me. Hehe. So, that was strike #2 and yet I still didn't learn my lesson.

Now to today. She had been talking about boobies all morning. I had been on the phone with my fabulous lactation consultant (who Lou calls the 'booby lady') and don't you know I have round 2 of Mastitis. REALLY Murphy!!?? Anyways, boobs had been the talk of the morning. Well, when we were in the car she was telling me that the reason I got strawberry milk from mine is because they were pink, and she is right....they are. She then out of the blue tells me that hers are black and that she gets chocolate milk from hers. I am driving, and honestly half-listening to her (since she talks non-stop in the car) and just saying, 'yes' or 'sure' or 'you're right' and not really paying attention. Well, we are in the Wendys drive-thru and it is beautiful outside so she had asked if I would roll down her window. I obliged as I had forgotten the other incidents and have been living free of 'Louisa incidents' for some time. AND....then it happened. The lady that was handing me my food was African American, and Louisa hung out her window the best she could in her seat and said (are you ready??), "Do you have chocolate milk that comes out of your boobies?" Holy shiznit-no-mam batman!! Are you kidding???? I roll the window up and almost catch her fingers and thankfully, oh so thankfully the lady is also taking orders and doesn't hear her. Strike #3 and she is OUT. No more windows down for Louisa Kate. Wowsers.

And more Louisa...

Remember this post in which the tabby cat cut Louisa's hair? I still have no confession, from Louisa or Murray - but it is hair, and it grew. Well, it seems as though the kitty struck again. This time during nap time. And I say the word 'nap' very loosely. Yesterday during Lou's nap time which was quite noisy despite the child 'sleeping' which she swears up and down she did. Well, she comes down the hallway dressed in clothes from her closet that were on hangers. First time for me to get mad. We have a rule that she can dress herself, but she is not allowed to get things off hangers. It just makes a HUGE mess that quite frankly drives me nutty. So, I was upset about that and asked her why she disobeyed me and got clothes out of her closet. "I didn't Mommy. Murray got them for me!" This is funny, not only because Murray is a cat...but she was asleep on the couch the entire time. I told this to Lou and she said, "Wells, you must not have watched her the whole time becaws she came in my room. She was also the one that made it messy and played in my toys." Crap. I had just cleaned her room, why do I bother? Well, I do. So - I go back to her room and sure enough...everything that I put away that morning was out.

So, I said..."Louisa, Murray didn't mess up your room. You did." "Oh no I didn'ts, I was asleep." Rolling my eyes now and just over it all and I tell her I know she didn't nap and I am upset that she is not telling me the truth and blah, blah, blah. So, I ask her to start cleaning it up and then I look closely at her and see something odd. I ask her to come closer, and she gets a look of "oh shiznit" on her face and walks slowly to me. I ask her to turn around and there it was.

Great. This looks like loads of fun. I ask her how she got the comb stuck in her hair. I am sure you can guess her answer. "I didn'ts Mommy. I was napping." So, then I jokingly said, "Oh yes, how could I forget? It was Murray that did it, right?" And she turned to me with a huge grin and said, "YES Mommy, how did you knows?" Oh my gorsh. This child is a work of art. And I am so sleep-deprived right now I don't even have the energy to fight it. Isn't that awful?

So, in the meantime, I will make sure to keep all eyes on Murray during nap time and keep all windows up. :)

Until next adventure...


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

All I Really Need to Know...

I have learned in the last 5 weeks. Really. Well, somewhat. :)

Some sweetness, just real quick-like.

What a ride. Believe it or not, I honestly think that the actual transition from 1 kid to 2 isn't as bad as it is from 0 to 1. With that said - I am still having my booty kicked left and right here at the Norris house. As soon as I come up for air and have a good come-back plan, one of the two chirrens reminds me otherwise. But, since I just wrote a novel on boobs, I figured I would bullet-list this one to make it more user-friendly, AND I am so sleepy I cannot fathom paragraphs and punctuation.

So, here we go - my lessons the past 5 weeks.

  • I was sadly mistaken every time that I said my 3 year old was difficult. I just didn't know any better. Yes, she is a handful and makes me work extra hard, but how lovely is it that she is somewhat self-sufficient. I never realized how nice it was that she watched Mickey Mouse while eating breakfast while I showered, did dishes and laundry and sometimes ran vacuum if I was feeling extra spunky. Until sweet little Nash came along, I had forgotten how nice it was to do house-chores ALL BY SELF. Now, I load dishwasher, washer/dryer, etc. with a baby dangling from my arms. And he seems to love it. So, whatever works. Maybe this is good training to have him help around the house once he starts walking. Hmmm.
  • I will not go into detail on this one since I just posted about it, but if there is an issue with breast-feeding...I had it. Goodness gracious what a roller coaster.
  • Along with breast-feeding issue, have you ever realized that EVERYTHING has milk in it? I surely didn't until I had to fore-go dairy. I mean, really. I went to make a BLT one day and realized that my wheat bread had whey in it. REALLY? So, I ate a BLT with lettuce as my 'bread.' Awesome, right? Wrong. And when we were stopped at a gas station while I was nursing Nash the lady in the car next to me was eating a Snickers bar. Never in my life have I remembered wanting a Snickers more. Of course, I heard a voice in my head mockingly saying 'milk chocolate' and I wanted to cut the voice in my head and jump out of my car and into the ladies car and take her out and eat her Snickers. I think she was taunting me. Crazy what dairy-deprivation will do to a girl.
  • Speaking of dairy...does anyone know, does chicken have dairy in it? Hehe, thought you would like that one Beana!
  • Newborn photography is not for the amateur. Holy junks. I finally caved the other day and tried to take pics of the little man so maybe I could get around to an announcement (I might have one done for Christmas cards, hehe) and let me just say, oh dear me. By the time you get them situated and back up for a shot - they have moved or made a yucky face or opened their eyes to give you the lovely cross-eyed look

(which i do have a soft spot for). So, it may be a few months before I capture an announcement-worthy shot. Haha. Once again, girlys...appreciate the junk out of your professional photogs, they work HARD for their money!
  • Captain Jack Sparrow. Let me just say, I would be super excited if he-himself were at my house. I love me some Johnny Depp and when he is cast as CJS, I swoon. However, it is not Johnny at my house playing CJS, but instead Nash. I think many babies suffer from CJS syndrome. Let me explain. Baby needs to go to sleep. You can tell they are fighting it but just don't want to fall asleep anywhere else but your arms. Can you blame them? This usually is more common at night, especially the wee hours. Well, you rock and you bounce and you sway and you 'shhhh' and you bounce more and finally have a baby that is sleeping sound and breathing regularly. Well, you go to put them in their crib and THE EXACT moment you put them down, Captian Jack Sparrow happens. One eye opens and peeps at you and seems to say, "Yo-ho cracker, you better pick me up again or the wrath is coming. Parlay." I mean, the instant. So, you find yourself with 'sleeping' babe again in arms and bouncing and cooing and singing and swaying and working on those calf muscles at 3 am.
  • Infomercials really are funny. Especially in the wee hours when nothing else is on but paid-programming and you need to stay awake while nursing. I find it hilarious when the commercial shows how difficult something is to do and then they make their stoopid product seem so amazing. Like this silly purse thing that supposedly is genuine leather and comes in 3 different colors. Wahoo! They show a lady going half-mad when her phone rings and she is all digging through her purse like she is rabid trying to locate the phone. I mean, just call them back when you find it! Please don't compromise your cuteness wearing some awful sling across your body purse with a bazillionk pockets. But wait, it IS genuine leather.....
  • The adventure that happens before you even step foot out of house. Where you are actually GOING isn't the hard part. It is getting there. In the early weeks when bebe feeds everytime you blink an eye and you run a peep show with boobies out all the time, you must plan to leave the instant he finishes feeding. So, all bags must be packed and by the door. But this is how it rolls at my house. Nash finishes feeding. I hurry and put him in carseat and he instantly starts to scream. I run to the potty just in case and ask Louisa if she needs to go. She swears up and down she doesn't. So we start to head out the door and just as I hit the garage opener, Lou decides that she does need to go potty. Back in the house to take her potty and bebe still screaming his head off. We go to get back in car and I realize that Nash has now poo'd his pants. So, back in the house to change the dipe. Get back in the car and back out of driveway and realize that I have left my phone in the house. Pull back in to get phone. Pull back out of driveway and have Louisa meltdown because she doesn't have her Winnie the Pooh sunglasses. Etc, etc. Sound familiar? By the time the destination is reached, it is time for Nash to eat again. :)
  • Have you ever realized how high the Soothie brand pacis will bounce on a hardwood floor? If not, come on over. You'd be surprised. They are like a rubber bouncy ball. Then, they roll, over and over and over again. And they always wind up under a sofa. Well, the silicone is just sticky enough to pick up every single piece of animal fur in it's way so when you go to replace said paci in screaming babe's mouth, it appears he has grown a mustache. Sounds gross, right? Yeah, if only my maid would come back to work.
  • NEVER fear. Your toddler will have to go poo-poo ONLY when you have sat down to nurse baby. And, you just may have a baby that is a very sensitive nurser that doesn't like for you to breathe, much less move when he is on boob. So, you are in position, and in my case...toes curled while sweating and you hear from down the hallway, "Mommy I'm finished! I went tee-tee and poo-poo!" One would think I would just teach the child to wipe the #2 herself, but let me just go ahead to say that on a resident's salary we cannot afford the plumbing disaster that it would bring on. Trust me.
Okay, enough for now. Time to go change out my cabbage leaves. And hit up Sonic happy hour.

Just as a happy, Nash makes this face ALL the time. He reminds me of Kermit the Frog when he does. Such a serious little man!

And this is for those of you that may be missing my sweet Lou showing her rear-end. Literally.








White Flag

I am not a quitter. In fact, I am so stubborn that I will fight most things out until the end. I always have to have the last word. That is how I roll. I am a hot-headed, determined mess and I usually like to win. I am an AWFUL loser and don't like to lose at all...hence why I hardly ever compete in anything. :) In a nut-shell, I tend to be a fire-ball at 4'11".

But, this time I quit. The white flag has been thrown up with my head dropped in defeat. I lost. I give-in.

However, I am not sure who I "lost" to. Society? Other mom's judgments? The 'norm'?

What in the world am I talking about you ask.....breastfeeding. Yes, this post is about breastfeeding. So, if you are a boy or a person who has no interest in the world of booby milk - you can stop now.

Why in the world am I posting about this? Few reasons. Mostly to get it off my chest. Literally. Also for the same reason I blogged about my miscarriage this time last year. Not many people talk about it. And, as I lay awake all night long harping over this decision I read many mother-forums and was appalled at women who were referred to as "booby-nazis" and how they treated moms that were quitting. Their words made me feel awful. So, I am here to share my story and hope to not be judged. As a friend and lactation consultant told me, it is not for everyone. And I fall to that category.

I had to quit breastfeeding with Louisa as well. Although she was 4 months old and I quit simply because I just dried up. No other choice. But this time it was harder for me. Here I am with a 5 week-old and plenty of milk - yet I am making the decision to dry that milk and stop. Do you see why I was up all night crying and praying about this decision and why I cannot stop second-guessing myself?

From the get-go with Nash I had problems breastfeeding. If there was a nursing hurdle, I have crossed it. Let me just list them out.
  • Poor latch due to Nash being tongue-tied. This was solved by his frenulectomy, but unfortunately, the damage to my nipples had already been done.
  • Bleeding, cracked, raw nipples that were so sore I couldn't have anything brush up next to them or even near them. My toes curl in pain as my sweet little boy would try to feed. They are still the same way, 5 weeks out.
  • Oversupply which led to a very unhappy baby and very uncomfortable momma.
  • Engorgement, which led to clogged ducts which led to Mastitis. This was quite possibly one of the most painful things....until I got Thrush.
  • Thanks to the antibiotics I took to rid my boobs of the infection, I got Thrush. I still have it and have had it for almost 2 weeks now. It is awful. I feel as though my boobs are on fire. My nipples sting like I have 20 bees on each one stinging one after the other. When my milk lets down I swear I have shards of glass shooting through my boobs. Lovely, right. Not to mention the pain it causes when he nurses.
  • Oh, did I mention that he is irritable as all get-out when on breast-milk and I have eliminated dairy and any other 'irritants' from my diet? This is a girl that drinks milk like it is my job.
So, here I am...5 weeks out post-partum and even after giving my boobs a 'break' from nursing while I pumped for a week to try and let my nipples heal, I let Nash nurse twice yesterday and I am back to square one with the pain, bleeding, raw-ness, etc. This is not a ride in the park. This hurts like hell to be quite frank.

So, last night I decided I would go back to pumping and feeding him the breast-milk in the bottle and try to stick out the pain from the Thrush and cracked nipples as well. Then, I pumped this (on the right, on left is from a few days ago).

No, that isn't strawberry milk. And no, that isn't the first time that has happened. That is breast-milk mixed with the blood from my nipples. Awful. I have tried every cream/ointment known to man to fix this problem but they have yet to heal. So, with this...I started to cry. I have been battling what to do for a few weeks now as we had a trial run on formula and the child did amazing. BUT breast-milk is best and I have it, so why quit? This is what kept me up all night, in addition to a sweet little boy that thinks 3 am is party time. Reminds me of my college days, his Momma sure did love late-night. :)

So, I had to put it all into perspective.

A few weeks ago when I was recovering from Mastitis I had a moment in which I said (as I was writhing in pain), "is this worth it to me?" That was my first questioning. Then I told myself that the ME didn't matter. It was the baby that mattered. And yes, since breast-milk is best...it mattered to him. So - I stopped thinking about quitting and put on my big-girl britches for the bazillionth time in a few weeks.

Then, as I began to eliminate most everything from my diet as my child would scream and writhe in pain after eating (mind you I put him on reflux meds in case, although I don't feel that is the issue) I started to wonder, "is this worth it to him?" Sounds silly, I know...but you start to wonder - especially after you see him do amazing on formula. I began to beat myself up. What was I eating? What had I drank that was bothering him? Why was my breast-milk doing this? Is he getting enough? Is the blood from my nipples bothering him? And then, I trucked on as I felt the pressure of society in that breast-milk is best. We were going to make it work.

And then last night, as I was crying I remembered this afternoon when I was trying to get Nash latched on to feed and Louisa was talking to me and asking me questions. I was in so much pain from the latch that my toes were curling, I was sweating, border-line nauseous and Nash was latching on, then pulling off repeatedly to the point where tears started to well in my eyes. I was stressed to the max and in so much pain and then I did something I am not proud of. I snapped at Louisa. Like it was her fault. I screamed at her and told her to go to her room. When I saw her face and her walk slowly out of the room with her head ducked I wanted to cry again. It didn't dawn on me at the time, but last night it did. And this was one of my deciding factors. I didn't say is it worth it to me or him, but I asked myself..."is this working for us?" And my answer was no. It wasn't. Because sadly enough, that wasn't the first time that had happened and I promised to never let it happen again.

So, with that one bit on my mind - I cried and I started to pray. I needed a sign that would help me in my decision. I needed to know that I wasn't being selfish or doing the wrong thing. And it came to me in the next pumping. For the 3rd time in a row, I pumped 'strawberry milk' and endured a pain so awful that my toes curled and I almost threw up. That was my sign.

A happy mom equals a happy baby. So, with this in mind...I woke up this morning and put cabbage leaves in my bra. Still crying the whole time. I know this is the right choice for my family, but it is still such a hard choice to make. Will I be judged by those who never had any issues breast-feeding? Will I regret this in the long run? Will my child be okay in the long run? And opening the freezer and seeing bags of frozen booby milk, I feel a little better. He will be getting breast-milk for the next month or so, so I cannot beat myself up too much, right?

Thanks for letting me vent. I am not great at decisions. Especially big ones. I always second-guess myself. I tried really, really hard and fought through so many issues that I know I gave it my best...I just need to remind myself of that.

So, as I sit here and type and keep turning around to see if one of my labradors is tooting, I am reminded that no....it is just the cabbage in my bra stinking to high-heavens. I am thankful for the most amazing friends and lactation consultants that have held my hand in this journey. I am going to try my best to get on with it and not let any judging bother me. I will put my pump away and look forward to putting away the breast pads as well. We can do this, and we will make it. And it will work for our FAMILY.

Strange how quickly one extra child changes the mix. You suddenly go from figuring out what works for them to figuring out what works for the FAMILY. There is no 'I' in team, right?

Vent session over, maybe in this blog I have helped someone who is in my shoes. That would make me feel better. Most of all, I got it off my chest. My online boob-therapy. I will try to promise to never again take up a novel about boobs. My husband will probably die of embarrassment that I just wrote all of this - but as a Mom, modesty goes out the window.

I have another post in the works that is fun and has some pictures, and hopefully soon I will get to finishing it and posting. But, for now...I will go and load the dishwasher and run some laundry and continue to blame the stench on the pooches. :)

Hehe, looks like he has his hands up in surrender too. :)


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Free to a Good/Any Home...Murphy

Warning. This blog is a vent session. However, as I was writing I did realize that although crap is seeming to hit the fan faster than I can say "poo" that I really do need to stop and look at all of the great things that I have and be thankful for those instead of focusing on the negative. I could easily turn bitter. And since bitterness is no fun...let me turn this back around and try and find humor in it.

I have talked about Murphy a bazillionk times on here. And I am about to talk about him again. If you aren't sure who he is, it is Murphy's Law. Follows me around. I swear, I am thinking of changing my name to Murphy. Or maybe Murphina to be more feminine. If it can happen/go wrong, it will. Trust me. I am kinda over Murphy. He has been really unpleasant to us in the last year and I am ready for him to just get on. I told my friend Anna this morning that I was trying to figure out a way to give him up for Lent. Since I cannot come up with a good way, I am going to give up meat instead. And maybe soft drinks.

My little Nash is great, and so is my Lula Kate. Thankfully, oh so thankfully. Nash has recently shown me that he isn't the narcoleptic that he once was. He has "awakened" and has had some fussy times. NO WHERE NEAR Louisa fussy, thank goodness - but definitely gave me a run for my money for a few days. I *think* we may have things under control for now thinking it might have been issues with oversupply of milk - but I will spare you all the details of the booby feedings. Your welcome. :)

But, in the meantime of dealing with no sleep, trying to spend as much QT with Lou as I can, trying not to snap at her or make her feel seconds to the baby, keeping house, trying to figure out nursing issues and making sure everyone is clean, fed and has clean clothing and still breathing at the end of the day...Lucy starts limping BAD. Remember back in August she tore her ACL and had surgery to repair it and we did months of rehab to get her better. Well, she has kept a limp the entire time, and we have just all adjusted to it. However, in the last few days - her limp had gotten bad. One night, she wouldn't stand up to get on her favorite sleeping sofa. Broke my heart. Then yesterday, as her limp progressed, I took her outside to potty and her legs just collapsed from under her. Can I even tell you how I felt at that moment. I had the front door open, so I could hear Nash screaming and Lou hollering for me and here was my sweet Lucille, all 124 lbs of her in the front yard not able to stand. I almost varmited all over the place. I almost screamed for someone to help because I was so scared. And honestly, I also had a moment of panic in which I just wanted to run away from it all. I almost shut down thinking, "I just cannot do any of this anymore." Thankfully, one side of my brain told me to beef up and put on my big girl panties and I lifted Lucy and got her back in the house. I was so scared of what was going on. So, on to the surgeon today to figure out what it was. Here is where I will try and incorporate some humor.

Let me first just say I am not one to ask for help. I just don't. That is how I am as a person. My friends don't get it...but I just do things. And I make it. When I really, really need help - I do ask. But, mostly we just make it. I think it is somehow related to my stubbornness. :)

So, Lucy had an appointment this morning at 8:30. As soon as I made it, I had a moment of panic. How in the hizzity was I supposed to get Lucy to the vet with Louisa and Nash. How in the crizzity was I supposed to get her in and out of my SUV without her further hurting herself? What in the shizzity was I supposed to do if Nash decided he wanted to fuss at the vet? Holy junks. My blood pressure shot through the roof in no time. Then, I saw that the weather was supposed to still be nasty. Oh mylanta. To say the least, I was freaking out.

However, this is how it all went down.

We actually got out of the house in time for me to ride around a bit to try and put Nash to sleep. I was amazed. Granted, it took about 10 min to get everyone loaded up - but I did. Thankfully Lucy was feeling a bit better this am and was able to jump into the car with my help holding her back end with a sling. Phew. Granted, I looked like I had just rolled out of bed since I didn't get a shower, but I did brush my teeth. Can't remember if I brushed my hair or not, and had on the same thing as the day before - but my kids were dressed and clean. Success #1.

So, I drove and I drove. And Nash screamed and he screamed. He usually ALWAYS falls asleep in the car, but not today. I gave up and finally just pulled into the surgeon's office and began the process of unloading. First, Lucille. I asked her to sit nicely beside the car while I unloaded stroller to put car seat with screaming baby in. Lucille obliged. Then, I went to get Louisa out who was already having a melt-down because the "lines" in her socks were bothering her. So, I had to take off her shoes and socks and fix them and then put them back on while Lucy was sitting in the middle of the parking lot & Nash was showing off his pipes. Then, a Jeep had pulled up to the front of the building and at that time two of the employees brought out a stainless cart with a towel and a bag. I almost puked. I thought that there was a poor deceased doggie in the car and I was about to witness it being removed and I just couldn't handle that at the moment. The panic that set in made my toes sweat. I was trying to hide Louisa from it as I knew she would ask questions and while I was trying to shield her view I had another one of those moments when I thought, "Oh my junks. I cannot do this. I need to load everyone up and go home. I cannot do this." Thankfully in the middle of my parking lot panic attack, the employees got a sweet black lab out the Jeep with a slight limp. He was fine. I took a breath that honestly made my brain start working again, and helped me pull up those big-girl panties and stroll a screaming child, limping dog and chit-chattering 3 year old into the office.

Once we got checked in, the sweet receptionist probably sensed my hypertension and offered to let us wait in an exam room instead of the waiting room. So we settled in and Nash and all of his rotten-ness stopped crying as soon as I picked him up and put him on my lap. We are waiting and I am slowly starting to relax when Louisa pipes up, "Mommy. You forgots to ask if I needed to potty before we left. I hab to go potty." SHIZ. I beg that she hold it until the doctor has come in and she says she can so I thank her and offer to give her a treat if she can just stay still and be quiet until time to go. Well, a few melt-downs and she obliges.

The surgeon comes in and takes a look at Lucy. He then looks up to me and says the words I really could have done without. "She has torn her other knee." Translation. Her other ACL is blown. We were told when having her first one fixed that there was a 20% chance that the other would tear down the road, and I remember laughing and telling him he didn't know our luck. Ugh and double ugh. I even swore in front of him. I know, I am such a lady...but it just came out. It wasn't bad and Louisa quickly informed me that "MOMMYYYY you shouldn't say dat. Dat is a baaad word!"

Well, as the room is spinning, he tells me our options to repair this second one. I joke that maybe we should have both of her hips replaced while we are here just in case. I then go to check out and barely make it to the car before the tears start. I had honestly just had all I could take at that moment. I was glad the hormones held off until out of the surgeon's presence for you know how men just don't get the whole hormone/crying thing. Loading everyone up in the car, I boo-hood. Louisa laughed at me, and Nash...the little animal cracker that he is (like that Katie??) went to sleep at last. I sat in the parking lot and boo-hoo'd until I could gain my composure to drive. I felt better after the cry, and realized that it was my first big break-down since delivery. Pretty good making it 3 weeks!

So, Murphy...please get on. I honestly cannot handle anything else right now. I am kinda done dodging obstacle and jumping through hoops. Smooth sailing is what I would lurve right now. The numbness has set in, and I am ready to move on. To lift spirits, I enjoyed some sweet Louisiana strawberries in the form of liquid (aka Abita) for lunch. Judge not my dears, it is 5 o'clock somewhere.

As I said, this is really just a vent session. I know good and well I have SO much to be thankful for, and I really and truly am. I just had to get this out so it would maybe not eat at me. Byron and I have to talk to see what we will do for Lucy. I am torn since her last surgery, the rehab was very time-consuming and I DIDN'T have a newborn at the time. She also never completely recovered and always had a limp. I wish I could know that this leg would heal and no limp would occur. Or should we just have a custom brace made for her??? All I want is my sweet girl's quality of life to be the best it can be. It makes me so sad to see her limp and shake and have trouble walking. :(

To cheer things up. Here is a pic of my sweet little burrito napping on the couch.

And since you can no longer take a picture of baby without a picture of big sis....

And my sweet brown doggie, who wants his sister Lucy to feel better.

Until next time when things are hopefully shiny, happy people holding hands. :)

Friday, March 4, 2011

Welcome to the World, Baby Boy!

Wow, I have a lot to catch up on. For reals.

WARNING – novel ahead. Get comfy, grab a cup of joe, wine, bevo or whatever makes you happy and bear with me, I didn’t edit or proof.

It has just been kinda nutso here. When I have a spare moment, I try to either catch some much-needed z’s or load dishwasher, run vacuum or laundry. You know, all that fun stuff which is even more fun with a newborn that doesn’t like to be anywhere but in Momma’s arms. I mean, anywhere. It is flattering, for sure – but sometimes it is nice to have 2 hands back! I love nothing more than to snuggle with him all day, but since the maid hasn’t shown in a few months – the house tends to get unruly. And while I talk about unruly…anyone else’s Labradors shedding like it is 100 degrees outside???

But, on to my sweetness. Nash. He just can’t help but to be so cute. He still smells so good I could eat him, and he loves me. So, bonus points to him. :) Yay for Team Amy!! Speaking of, I am typing this with said sweetness on my chest, so please excuse any errors.

Well, I got what I wanted. I do so like to get my way. Kinda a bit of a character flaw for me, but I so enjoy things working out the way I want them to. Maybe like waking up on your due date only to find that your water broke in the last few hours. Rock on, I say! Granted, I was supposed to check-in to the hospital later that night for induction, but I beat it. Thanks Nash, here’s hoping this is my cooperative child!! However, let’s just visit with Murphy for just a bit. The night before, so Tuesday night…Lou decided to start puking. This was fun. My Mom was in town to help, which worked out for me…but my Mom has never been one for puking. And Lou puked all over her. Whoops. But I will say, she took it well and cleaned it up as I was trying to enjoy soaking in the tub one last time for the next few weeks. Well, I ended up awake with Louisa, pukes and fever all night on my last night to really “sleep” for quite some time. So, when I awoke in the morning to find my water broke – at first I thought I had just been sweating after sleeping next to an inferno all night. But nope, it was my water. Time to get the ball rolling!

So, Byron and I headed off to the hospital to have a baby boy. I got checked in, hooked up to monitors, all that fun stuff. Here I am before I had to don the lovely gown that just lets all modesty out the window.

Now for the birth story. It was much, much shorter than Louisa’s. However, I spent more time without an epidural than I did with Lou, which was not fun. I am not afraid to ask for an epidural! Those contractions hurt. Especially when Pitocin is on board. Me no likey that drug. Not one bit.

Of course you know, when I got there I was having contractions (I didn’t even feel them, I have had worse ones before) but they weren’t regular and they weren’t getting my cervix in shape at all. So, they started Pitocin about 12:30 in the afternoon. You know I was already staaaaaarving, and the ice chips were not doing the trick. Grrrrr. But just par for the course. Things were rolling along just fine. The contractions started to get closer and closer and more painful with each one. This is what kept me company

as I sat in a bed that I just couldn’t get comfy in anxiously waiting BBN.

Did I mention that we actually packed the name book and were discussing names while I was in labor. For real. So, for everyone that thought we had a name but were just being secretive, TOLD YOU we didn’t. We were going back and forth between Nash and another name that I will keep to myself (hehe) and just couldn’t settle on a middle name for Nash. Finally, we came up with Butler. No family ties or anything, I’ve always liked the name and it flowed well with Nash, we thought. So, most of the day he was Nash Butler. But then we had name #2 still on the burner and nothing was set in stone.

Around 3:30 I started to get very uncomfortable. So, I got some Stadol. It was quite funny, as I could feel each and every contraction with this med, but I was so drunk it didn’t matter. I remember thinking, “Ha, here comes another one” and just sitting through it. Crazy what meds will do. I also remember my OB coming in and me announcing to him that I was drunk as a skunk. Nice Amy. Wonders what some narcotics will do to someone (this also serves as an apology for anyone that visited in the hospital while I was on a Percocet-induced high, wow). The Stadol stayed and I layed in bed ‘drunk as a skunk’ and having a good time while my cervix continued to be incompetent and not dilate even with steady contractions. We were beginning to think this was gonna take up way into the wee hours.

Around 5 I decided it was epidural time. By this time, the Stadol was still on board, but wearing off enough that I was completely aware of the contractions, and I was starting to mind them. To the point where the pain started to get out of control. My brain was foggy, but pain receptors were not. I remember the anesthesiologist coming in and getting prepped and I remember the needle in my back, and the next thing I knew I was in an oxygen mask with bed in Trendelenburg position. I was quite confrused and Byron was not in the room (they had asked him to leave, how odd…he was allowed to stay in GA??). The nurse told me my pressure kept dropping and I remember getting pressers in my IV – and then after a while my blood pressure started to behave again and allowed me to not be upside-down in bed with O2 mask. Then, the beauty of an epidural. It is amazing watching contractions on the screen but not feeling a thing. Crazy. So, we waited and waited and hoped that my cervix was cooperating.

8:45 pm’ish I remember the nausea hit. And it hit hard. I got sick, but couldn’t throw up but felt AWFUL. I remember telling Byron, “I’m done.” I honestly felt so sick that I was ready for it all to be over. I could barely focus I felt so bad. Right after I said that, my OB walked in and took one look at me and joked, “Guess you aren’t drunk as a skunk anymore?” Ha. No, I wasn’t and kinda wished I was! But turns out, I was sick as a dog because I had finally, finally gotten to 10 centimeters. I was ready to go. I started pushing at 9:15. I remember thinking it was odd because they didn’t turn off my epidural like they did with Louisa, but I had a hot spot in it so I could feel the contractions in one area of my uterus, so that helped to know when to push…but it was harder to push this time I thought because I just couldn’t feel as much. But, turns out I was doing it correctly….because about 4-5 pushes into it, I felt that wonderful feeling when your uterus is finally without baby. You other moms know that relief that you feel when baby comes OUT! So, at 9:36 pm…..BBN was born. My OB put him on my chest and Byron and I at the same time said, “He is a Nash. He is not a (insert other name here).” And so, welcome to the world Nash Butler Norris. :)

So, all in all…labor was not as long. I still had many recovery issues due to a large baby – but I was so glad that I didn’t have to push for 2.5 hours. I honestly don’t know if I could. I was beat. It is amazing how exhausted your body gets with pain. AND I had drugs.

The next few days were a blur. Between pain and fatigue, they kinda all roll in together. However, I was just as excited about Louisa meeting Nash as I was to meet him myself. It was so strange, I got nervous. I wondered, “will she like him?” It was a crazy feeling plus I was missing her and so was just super excited when Byron brought her to the hospital. Looking back at pictures now, I come to tears in an instant. I am so glad my friend Phoebe was there to capture these moments, because I will cherish them forever. I know that sounds super-gay and you know me and mush, but the feeling that comes over me looking at these pictures right here….

I cannot even begin to describe. I cannot take my eyes off of them. Especially the look on my sweet Lou’s face. I just melt. I was so worried at the last minute about bringing another baby home and what it meant for my relationship with Lou and everything that the look on her face eased it all. She has been just amazing with him. Have I ever mentioned how much I love this girl?

She has been the biggest trooper the last 2 weeks. The weeks have been rough, as I said with recovery-related issues, nursing problems, engorgement, clogged ducts, mastitis (which for those that have never had this, it was worse than Swine flu, I honestly thought I was going into septic shock I was so sick. I couldn’t move, it was awful. Moms that are nursing…keep those boobies unclogged! You don’t want to get mastitis!!) and a tongue-tied little boy that thankfully we know some awesome ENTs that were able to hook us up with a frenulectomy – but Lou has been a trooper. I tell everyone, she has her moments…but honestly I do too. Her attention-seeking behavior has started in the last few days, and I am still trying to figure out how to handle that – but she has done way better than I ever thought she would. She LOVES him. Cannot keep her hands off of him. Is such a huge helper to me and is very understanding. I wanted this transition to be as normal as possible for her, but in the mean-time I forgot how strong she was. She is my big girl.

Now, with that said…there have been some times. We all knew they were coming. She is very interested in the whole diaper-changing ritual, and honestly I try to keep her our of it as much as possible because I am still not ready for the anatomy talk yet. And we all know Louisa, she is going to ask questions. She mentioned to me the other day when I was bathing him, “Oh Mommy, there is still someping ober on dat thing of his that you forgots.” She was referring to his plasti-bell from circumcision that hadn’t fallen off yet. I quickly covered “dat thing of his” and changed the subject.

I made our first outing as the 3 of us the other day. I was SCARED to death. For real, my blood pressure was probably 300/200. Haha. I had to go to Target and I made sure I had everything, and I mean everything all packed up and ready to go so that when Nash finished nursing we would hit the door. Of course Louisa insisted on dressing herself, a battle that I rarely pick anymore and with her outfit she HAD to wear her red patent leather Danskos that are about 4 sizes too big.

I told her before we left to change shoes since she wouldn’t be able to walk in them once we got to Target and I needed her to keep up in case Nash woke up, etc. Well…..when dealing with this one

you sometimes just let things go. So, we got to Target, I was already sweating and went to go and put both Lou and a sleeping bebe in carseat into the buggy. Of course, Lou wanted to be in the front – so I obliged and so I put Nash in his seat in the back part. So, we start to roll up to the lovely store and Lou loses her first shoe. In the MIDDLE of the road with traffic everywhere. Enter meltdown #1. So, we get shoe back on and get into the store and the other falls off. At this point, I tell her she needs to get in the back of the buggy to avoid any other shoe fallings offs and she melts. With all the screaming, I am not only embarrassed, but scared that she will wake the baby. Well, we get everything all swapped around, I get the few items that I need and we are ready to head out. Nash is still asleep, thank goodness and I have to get Lou out to walk so that I can put the items back in the buggy so they wont fall out in the parking lot. Well, mistake for me. I am not even going to tell you how many times she lost her shoes in the parking lot between the store and the car. Oh dear me. And my sweet little Nash slept through it all. I had promised her a milkshake if she was good, and I was trying to figure out if Sonic would add rum to their cherry limeades to help with my anxiety!! :) But, I feel good with the first trip out of the way. As long as I can plan for Lou disasters…methinks we will be good?

Okay, novel here. And wouldn’t you know it has taken like 2 days and I don’t know how many times I have sat down to write this? Hopefully I wont go as long without blogging again. I don’t even know if I covered all bases or not. Oh well, done and done.

Now, we are at the 2 week point. I am feeling better, getting more confident and we have good days and bad days. Today has been a bad day. I was up with little man from 10:45 last night until 4:40 this morning with him crying. I was having flash-backs of Louisa as a baby. And she didn’t let him out-do her last night as I was up with her 3 times as well. He hasn’t stopped fussing still today. I am really, really, really, really hoping it is just gas or a bad belly because I am honestly not up for it right now. All I want is maybe an hours nap! Neither child is cooperating today – I think this will be the case for the next few years. So, guess I will just adjust and pour another cup of coffee. :)

Since I am over writing this blog post, I will just put a bunch of pics together without captions. Forgive me, and come back…promise I will get more organized. Maybe. Haha.