Oh baby!

I finally managed to order the rest of my diaper-making supplies (pale pink! butter yellow!) and knew my fun baby clothes sewing would have to be put on hold. So last week was my mad dash to finish enough projects that I would feel good going back to diaper making. (Side note: is nesting supposed to last the whole pregnancy? Because it hasn't let up around here).

I kept that little machine a-whirring all week long. Here are the fruits of my labors:

This jumper is a combo of a pattern I bought (my first time buying and sewing from a commercial pattern! verdict: tutorials online are usually clearer and more detailed) and a tutorial I found. The booties make the outfit, don't you think??

This little jumper is the next size up of the newborn ones I already made. (Side note: I'm worried those first ones will be more like shirts than dresses...). Oh how I adore this cherry fabric. The booties from above are lined with the cherries and are intended to match both jumpers. (ps. Please forgive the fact that I still haven't put on buttons. I have super struggling to find buttons I like these days.)

One thing I learned with Raymond: you can never (ever) have enough bibs. You would think I could just whip out these bibs... but I tell ya, the set of six did take me a few days. I liked getting to be a little more creative with the rick rack, ribbon, and buttons. Jeremy commented that I seem to be giving the lady bug the royal treatment. I responded that he would have been upset if I had tried to put anything decorative (like ribbon and buttons!) on a bib for Raymond. He conceded.

And lastly, for you out-of-towners (pretty much the majority of you), I am definitely looking pregnant these days. Don't you agree?

I'll be 30 (THIRTY!) weeks tomorrow. I tell you, this pregnancy is flying right on by. It's shocking actually. Yesterday Jeremy and I discussed the way we will rearrange our bedroom to make room for the new addition. I can't believe there are only about two months to go.

I'll be honest, I don't feel ready.

Once I get the diapers finished, I might feel more prepared. But I still have Christmas sewing and projecting to do. And one-on-one time to spend with Raymond. And more baby sewing. Definitely going to need all two months. But do not fear, I am confident that slowly and steadily I'll get it all done if I work on a little here and a little there each day.

In the meantime I'm enjoying my bulging belly. I might be the weird one, but I really love being pregnant. I love the belly. I love the kicking. I love the planning and scheming. I've been working every day for the past week to mentally prepare myself for the lady bug's labor and delivery. It's becoming a peaceful and calming part of each day. I am so grateful to be a woman and to participate so actively in this beautiful process. It truly is miraculous.

Sugar and spice and everything nice... including pleats

Gosh don't you love it? I made this little jumper yesterday, and really I want to dollop some whipped cream on top and eat it up.  I love how simple it is. Somehow feminine without a ruffle or bow.

I have jumped back into sewing full swing again. Today I made a few bibs. More booties are on the agenda. And some bigger sized dresses (so far I've made three 0-3 month). Maybe a daygown or two (like these... I tell you I wake up in the early morning hours thinking about making these). I still want to make a new carseat cover, but I'm scared.

We'll see what a little fabric, inspiration, and hard work can do!

Come what may

Jeremy and I frequently ask ourselves what we think life will be like once the LadyBug comes along. It's a little mind-boggling, actually.

Because I honestly don't know.

Raymond, I'm not going to lie, is a pretty active little fellow. Not to mention, he was--during his first few months--what might be termed a "fussy baby." At the time, I didn't really want to believe it. I focused on the happy boy who did surface for chunks of time each day. But in between was a lot of crying and rocking and swaddling and nursing and very very little sleeping (by either of us). I hate to admit it, but those first three months were rough for me.

You would think the (very fresh) memories of that would make me nervous about doing it again... this time with an 18-month-old at my heels. An attention-loving, hand-on, busy little fellow.

But you know, call me crazy, I feel extremely calm about the whirlwind that will hit this house in just about three months.

I've decided that if somehow this little Lady is a crier like Raymond, well, I handled it once before. But I think she'll be a little bit calmer. She's not nearly the kicker Raymond was in the womb anyway. I think she's going to bring her own special peaceful presence even while turning our world upside down (or Raymond's anyway).

I feel absolutely sure that this is when Heavenly Father wanted us to have another one. Which means He is absolutely sure I can be the mother of two little ones right in a row. It's a good feeling.

As Jeremy frequently reminds me, I'm made for this.

 26 weeks, 1 day and going strong.

Right on track

All my life (that I have noticed) I find myself following a predictable trend: I gain weight in the summer and lose weight in the winter. All summer long I crave sweets and snack foods. I want to spend my days digging around in watermelon rinds and eating popcycle after popcycle.

And then one crisp magical day my appetite dries up. I just don't want to eat as much anymore. I have to remind myself to eat lunch (rather than work to not plan all morning about what I will eat next). There is something about the fall/winter that makes me just not as hungry or something. And those five or ten pounds that creeped on during the summer months seem to come off without even thinking about it.

While annoying and frustrating during the summer, this trend always makes for a happy springtime surprise of fitting into even my smallest size jeans.

So when I first found out I was having a winter baby, I decided that as far as weight-gain/loss goes, this could be a good thing. The inevitable would happen: I gain in the summer not only from my typical summer appetite, but a growing baby belly (that cute growing belly makes it a little bit ok, doesn't it?), and then towards the end of the pregnancy slow down on the "I'm gaining way too much weight during this pregnancy" and really only gain the recommended amount for my pre-pregnancy height and weight. And then once the baby is born (in the heart of winter) more easily take it all off. Sounds like a pretty good little plan, doesn't it?

(Of course, I'm really trying hard to curtail the cravings for sweets and snacks and to keep myself healthy this summer. Just so you know. And of course I don't plan on starving myself come fall or winter. At all. But I know it will be easier to not overeat. That's always nice.)

Anyhow, I thought you would all like to know that so far things are going according to plan. I am definitely gaining some, ahem, "baby weight" during these hot summer months. And I am definitely looking forward to not craving food so often. Soon.

And in the meantime my belly is rounding itself out nicely, don't you think?? (ok so maybe this picture does not do the belly justice. I promise it's out there nice and prominent.)

I am 23 weeks today (which according to babycenter means the little lady is at least 1 pound and a good 11 inches long!).

Little Lady Projects

Well, let me just assure you that sewing for the Lady Bug is in full swing around these parts. Is is normal for "nesting" to start this early?

Apart from the 20+ newborn cloth diapers (using this darling pattern) and 16+ large diapers (for Raymond to move into eventually) that I am in the throws of sewing, I have definitely been dreaming, scheming, and sewing with all the new fabric that made it's way to my house last week.

To start the sewing festivities, I needed to do something simple, but fun. Pretty much I really didn't like the boppy cover we bought when Raymond was born. There were no good options in the store, but I wasn't willing to go to the trouble of finding something decent online. I just made due. But that ugly little cover has come in handy for coming up with a pattern for a new one:

The fabric is from the Heather Bailey Pop Garden collection. Rather than the traditional zipper close (can you believe I've never sewn a zipper?), I opted to do a fold-over pillow cover with buttons. I love the buttons. I love it so much (should I love a boppy cover this much?) that I still have it sitting in my room rather than stashed in the closet with my growing collection of Little Lady things.  Isn't it darling?

I also have decided that now is the perfect time to get over my fear of sewing clothes. Baby clothes to be exact. Since the Lady Bug will be born in December (aka the freezing cold), I've been at a loss for what to make her. I decided little jumpers to go over long sleeved onsies and leggings will be just the thing. Here is my first attempt at a jumper.

Since I made up the pattern, I didn't want to use any of the really darling fabric I have on something that could end up a disaster. While there needs to be some tweaking (and embellishing), I think my next one could be out of some red cherries, what do you think??

A few thoughts on labor and delivery

Before getting pregnant the first time, I had never really given much thought to natural childbirth. My mom had epidurals. My sisters had epidurals. My mother-in-law wished she could have had the option of epidurals. In the back of my mind I assumed I would join the epidural club. It was pretty much a non-issue for me at that point.

But once I was pregnant and reading books on the subject and actually thinking about what I envisioned when I was in that L&D room, I knew pretty early on, that pain medication of that sort was not for me. I actually felt sick to my stomach when I thought about them putting that needle in my back. And I felt anxious and frustrated at the prospect of having so little control over what was going on. I literally had nightmares about it.

But I must say, this doesn’t change the way I feel about other people choosing to do an epidural. I have NO PROBLEM with other women deciding they want pain medication during labor and delivery. You have my respect and my support. I don’t think a natural childbirth is more honorable or any of that kind of junk. The important thing (for me) is that each woman has the experience she chooses to have. And, after all, what really matters is that mother and baby are alive, healthy, and well when all is said and done.

I see this as one of those intensely personal decisions.

I think it’s super important that the mother feels good about the choices she makes in labor and delivery. Some women go natural the first time, and have an epidural the second. Some do an epidural the first time, and go natural from there on out. Some women go one way and stick with it every time. Some women give birth in bathtubs or their own beds. Some women don’t have much choice and have to do a C-section.  And some women plan to get an epidural but are forced to go natural for one reason or another. (As far as I can tell that’s the absolute worst way to go natural.)

With my first baby, I didn’t tell anyone I was going to go natural (unless they asked) because I just did not want anyone (especially all those women in my family whom I admire and respect) to think I looked down on their choice in any way. And of those I did talk to about it, most of them were adamantly opposed to the idea. Even Jeremy took some time warming up (although he was 110% supportive as soon as he saw how important it was to me). I also didn’t want to deal with more criticism than I had to.

For the record: I gave birth in a hospital with a doctor. I don’t think I’ll ever even consider doing a water birth or a home birth. I am going to a midwife this time around, even though my last doctor was fantastic. But my midwife’s office is in the hospital, and I will again give birth in the hospital.

There are a few reasons why natural birth is important to me. They might not be important to you, and that’s ok. Or the cost just might outweigh the benefits for you. That’s ok too. Please don’t take anything I have to say as a judgment on you or your power to choose.

I like to be in control. And more than anything else, it is important to me to be in control of the things that I can control. I hate the idea that I might not be able to feel what is going on to my body during a crucial experience like giving birth. I’ve heard mothers who opted for an epidural describing birth as surreal or as feeling  detached. There is nothing I want to feel more attached or present for than one of my children entering mortality. I want to be part of it. I want to consciously channel those contractions to do what they are meant to do. I don’t want the doctor having to tell me when to push; I want to know with every fiber of my being that the time is now.

Before becoming pregnant I had never been to the hospital for myself. No stitches. No appendicitis. No broken bones. No nothing. I had not experienced much physical pain up to that point in my life. But there were a few things that made me confident that I would be able to handle the pain of labor and delivery. Most importantly, I have a testimony that women are made for this. It is part of our make up, our callings, our purpose. Our bodies instinctively know what to do. Yes, women throughout history have died from this process. Yet thousands and millions of others have not. They handled it. Eve, alone and without precedence, handled it. I knew (I knew), going in, I could handle it. I was mentally prepared for it.  The pain of labor isn’t arbitrary or pointless. I was confident that I could surrender to it and focus it.

I needed to prove to myself and to God what I am capable of.

And yes, indeed, it was long, it required endurance, and it was painful. I screamed (just once) when I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t scream. I wanted to despair when the process dragged on and my body stopped progressing. But I did not. I focused, I prayed, I held onto the hope of that little body meeting mortality.

For me, labor (the hours of contractions) was much easier (I use that term loosely) than I anticipated, and delivery (the hours of pushing) was much more difficult than I anticipated. The entire process sucked me dry. I was beyond exhausted and spent when my first sweet baby boy was placed in my arms. And yet I have never been more alert, aware, or present than at that moment.

It was beautiful and empowering and a testimony that “trailing clouds of glory did [he] come”.

Of course every mother can have such beautiful moments with their newly birthed babies no matter how or where that baby is born.  But I am grateful for the soul stretching experience I was given with my sweet boy. I am profoundly grateful for the things I learned during the process of pregnancy, labor, and delivery. And I look forward to the moment when my little girl will be placed in my arms.

 I know, I know, I'm only half way there. I'm just one of those crazy people who reads about and thinks about these things the whole 40 weeks, I guess.

Sugar and spice and everything nice.

Does that stack of fabric make you as happy as it makes me? Mmmm, I could gobble it up.

And do you know what it means?

There's a little lady making her way to this house in December who needs some sewing done just for her.

Rock a bye baby

For all of Raymond's short life, I have rocked him to sleep. Up until a month ago, this was connected with nursing him to sleep. But always in the rocker, always in a semi-dark room, and often humming.

Now that I don't nurse him before laying him down, I still swaddle him (I know, I know, he's a year already. But he likes it.) under the arms, nestle his head into the crook of my arm, sing, and rock.

On busy days I sing only one or two songs before putting him in his crib. On slow quiet days I sing four or five. Long and slow and low.

He's always been a wiggler, kicking and sitting up and readjusting himself into a more comfortable position (hence the need for swaddling), but I know he likes it as much as I do. He's funny about it too. He won't let me look at him (or he'll push my face away obstinately if I try), and he won't let me stop singing while rocking (or he'll cry or wiggle loose until I start up again).

I love this stage of rocking my baby before putting him to bed. I forget how fast it will pass. In a few months or years he will be too long, too big, too independent. I think he will always like to be tucked in tight, but I wonder for how long he will let me hold him in my arms and sing Stay Awake or My Heavenly Father Loves Me over and over and over?

Three times a day we under go this sacred little ritual--morning, afternoon, and evening.  Three calm, quiet times each day. And I am grateful that he is still a baby who lets me sing him to sleep.

Happiness

Last night I lay on my back on my bed and felt with my hand down low around my pelvis, and sure enough there was a little round ball under my cupped hand. A few seconds later the braxton hicks subsided.

I think she's a girl; although, I was pretty sure Raymond was a girl too.  Only time will tell.

I feel like I've gone through a roller coaster of emotions with this pregnancy. Nervous at what other people would say about us having another so soon. Anxious that Raymond will handle becoming a big brother selflessly. Excited to already be blessed with another sweet baby to love and cuddle and call my own. Calm and sure that this is God's plan and will and desire for our family.  Uneasy that there could be complications--a feeling I didn't have with Raymond. Happy that Raymond will get another playfellow. Eager to find out what the gender will be and to organize and prepare. Tired and sick--particularly when I don't eat often enough.

But the overriding emotions are happy and calm.

The first weeks and months of pregnancy are hard because it still seems so surreal and mostly all you feel is hungry and nauseous all at the same time.  But at the same time it has felt very very real. We are having another baby. A tiny little newborn who doesn't sleep through the night, but rather sleeps all the day long. A little person with personality and potential. A new dimension to our family.  In a blessing Jeremy recently gave me (in the middle of a particularly hard night) he reminded me that ultimately the Lord is in charge and His will will be done. And--my favorite line--that I will find happiness in it.

I love pondering upon that happiness. The happiness the Lord has in store for me... in the gift of a tiny new baby.


Due Date: December 7th, 2010.
Today: I am 13 weeks along.

Will I remember?

 A few minutes ago I was kneeling next to the couch (where the computer was perched just out of Raymond's pounding reach), and I could hear Raymond laughing to himself as he pattered his way around the kitchen, stopping here or there to bang on a metal lid or pound a spatula against the floor with a splat. And I smiled.

He is perfect. Such a happy boy. So curious. So excited. I love his eager giggle as I crawl toward him on the floor, as the tickle monster. I love his little glance of defiance and excitment as he opens a cupboard he shouldn't get into. I love the way he snuggles his head into the crook of my elbow as I nurse him to dreamland--it's just about the only time he cuddles in any sort or fashion. I love the wild ruckus of bath time, the water everywhere. I love his perfect love for the Queen and King of his little kingdom, he has such adoring eyes. 

And sometimes I wonder, will I remember, in ten years, what it was like to be the mother of just one? To focus all my attention on his little wagging crawl around the house?  Will I possibly remember?

This week we successfully played "catch" as we threw the ball back and forth. He has a pretty good arm, actually. We're working on aim.

He also mastered the answer to the questions, "Where is your nose?" Is it possible that his little brain has wrapped itself around such a concept? His prompt dimpled finger to the tip of his nose is proof that somehow it has.

I hope I can still feel that little finger on the tip on my nose when I'm holding his grandchildren on my knee. I hope I will always remember the sweetness of sinking my lips into one of his soft jowled cheeks for a mama's kiss. I hope I will remember the way that one little tuft of hair (in his mini mullet) swings out into the softest of little curls after his afternoon nap. I hope I will remember the thrill in his eyes as he crawls into my lap to play patty cake. Or the somber observant expression in those same eyes as he watches someone new for a while before warming up into the social little fellow he is.

And I hope I always feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude at the stewardship that is mine, to love and teach and guide and protect this little Child of God. Oh how glad I am that he is mine.

Some things in our house are not optional

Like red kitchen towels.
And family prayers.
And nap time.

Raymond is actually an pleasantly long napper (read: a one hour nap is uncharacteristically short). As soon as I read Marc Weisbluth's book Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, I became a believer in bed time routines and naps (and short intervals between naps), and falling asleep unassisted. I will try not to be obnoxious about how life altering reading this book was for sweet Raymond's well-being.  But, I'm telling your folks, just as he says in the very title of his book: a child with healthy sleep habits is happy. Dr. Weisbluth was on to something. I absoulutely 100% believe that Raymond would not be the happy, smiley, go-out-and-conquer-the-world boy he is (read: get into every thing possible... all while smiling and laughing) if I did not enforce naps and bed times.

Truth: when the boy has gone longer than two (maybe he can sometimes stretch to three) hours between a nap, he has bags under his red, bloodshot eyes. And he's on the brink of a melt down. No mother likes a child about ready to pop. Am I right?

Now, I know that Raymond is one of the lucky few that falls into the "long napper" category of babies. Plenty of babies are just "short nappers" (or shorter)  but no babies are "non-nappers." If you tell yourself that, you're fooling yourself. And your depriving your baby of the rest he needs to develop and grow and be happy.  (I'm sorry I sound obnoxiously like a know-it-all... but I'm just telling you what the man (Dr. Weisbluth) has proved with countless studies... all recorded in his book. You should read it.)

I get a few suspicious looks when I mention the fact that Raymond goes to bed between 5:30pm and 6:00pm. But you know what, I can handle it. It not only has helped him be happy, it's helped me be happy. That counts for something, doesn't it? Usually by about 5:00pm he's rubbing his eyes and getting fussy. We start slowing down, reading books, playing on the rug, closing the blinds. We take a bath and put on warm jammies (mmm) and get wrapped up tight in a blanket (yes, I still swaddle him under his arms for naps and night time... because if I don't, those feet are so wiggly and entertaining!). When I lay that boy in his bed after nursing him one last time for the day, he rolls right over and falls asleep (if he isn't already). So sweet.

(While I'm on my sleeping-soap box, I might as well add here that while Raymond's day and night sleep schedule might be, at times, inconvenient, I  feel really strongly that his needs should trump my own the vast majority of the time. Of course holidays and vacations and trips will mess things up every now and again, but for the many "normal" days in between, I should not be dragging him around according to my schedule. Despite the modern notion that babies can and should be able to go wherever (and whenever) their parents are going somewhere, if it's during his naptime or bedtime, I just don't agree (with the exception of Church of course). I know it gets sticky when you have older kids to get to and from school and whatnot, but still. Just because you want to go to the store right now doesn't mean you should, if it means you have to cut your baby's nap short. As Dr. Weisbluth says, "Never wake a sleeping baby.")

I've been working on helping Raymond fall asleep unassisted lately. For a long time I've nursed him to sleep for his naps. Dr. Weisbluth says this is a-okay (so long as your are consistent in your going-to-sleep routine and consistent in soothing completely to sleep vs laying down awake). Raymond has had a harder time falling asleep while nursing lately (he's so easily distracted. As still as I sit, I'm still a huge distraction to him), so I've been laying him down drowsy but awake. I'm not going to lie, it's been an uphill road. The good Dr. W says to let them "cry it out" for as long as an hour (for naps) but not longer. Most babies, he says, will only need to do this for a few days, but as long as a week or two. Well, we've passed our "week or two" mark. But I refuse to give up. Naps are not optional in this house. And, I've decided, neither is going to sleep unassisted.

When I started this post Raymond had been crying (fussing, talking, singing) for about 50 minutes. I'll be honest, I can't do much while he cries (so I try to distract myself with blog-land, thanks for listening). And then, all of a sudden (at about 53 minutes), he fell asleep. I tell you, I know this is going to be worth all the heartache. I know he's going to be a happier person his whole life if he can master the trick of falling asleep and soothing himself back to sleep when he wakes up. I've spent a decent amount of time awake in the middle of the night; I don't want to give him my own unhealthy sleep habits.

So anyhow, long story short, babies (and their mamas) need sleep. And while I hate listening to him cry, I know it is for his own good. It's like of like when I have to take away the (book, pen, piece of trash...) that he managed to get his hands on (and shouldn't have). I'm not going to keep letting him play with it just because it will make him cry to take it away. It's for his own good. And studies, says the Dr., have shown that "protest" crying "will not cause permanent emotional or physiological damage. In plain fact, the contrary is true (... for children over the age of four months and only during normal day and night sleep times)." (page 277). Don't feel guilty for helping your child grow emotionally and physically by getting the sleep he or she needs. Just saying.

Well now I'm rambling, sorry about that. Now that the wee man-child is snugly nestled in his dreamland, I'm off to take a shower! I hope you have a lovely (almost springtime!) day.

Thoughts on baby food

Pretty much pureed food in a mini jar makes me gag. Big time. I don't want to smell it. I don't want to touch it. I don't want to store it in my pantry. (I'm not kidding, the puke-on-myself reflex is strong when that stuff is around)

It should come as no surprise that I am doing homemade baby food all the way. It was decided before the cloth diapers.  I know, I know. Granola. I should just be feeding my son granola because I'm so dang granola. I'm down with that (but not for a few more months of course).

First up: (besides having no clue what and when to feed my son--trial and error and this website were helpful) homemade baby food smells good. As in, it actually smells like whatever it is.

That right there should make you a believer.

Peas smell like peas (oh how I love peas). Sweet potatoes smell sweet. Carrots smell carroty. If I didn't have a huge food-texture issue, I might just dig in myself, they smell so good. It's a whole lot easier feeding food to your child (who will wipe and smear it over every possible extremity) when you are tempted to eat it yourself.

Second up: It's not hard. Cook up a few sweet potatoes, throw them in the food processor (or blender) and walah! Food for many days made.  I know what you're thinking: I just don't have time. You'd be surprise at how easy this is. Really.

Third up: Storage is pretty basic. I was always going to buy ice cube trays (but my lovely local market doesn't have them, and I always forget when I'm at Wal-Mart). So I use snack baggies instead. I label the date made, the amount (1/4 cup when starting out, we're up to 1/3-1/2 cup now), and the food inside (carrots and sweet potatoes look shockingly alike). Then I have a box in my freezer where I put them (an old corn dog box to be exact. See I'm not as granola as I look. The Husband loves a good corn dog).

Forth up:  I believe in spices. Who says baby food must be bland? Ok, so right off the bat maybe... but two months later? No sir. Sprinkle some basil in those carrots. Add a touch of garlic powder to those green beans. Cinnamon and nutmeg makes that oatmeal oh so appetizing. No sugar, no salt, of course. But don't be afraid of making your wee one love your favorite flavors.

Fifth up:   Do I even need to mention how much money you will save? I thought not.

So long story short: I support homemade baby food. And you should too.


On a totally unrelated note. I just looked around the corner and this is what I found:

I had sat him down next to his basket of toys and left the room. Looks like he knows how to get what he wants!

(ps. Note the bib. I just made him two new ones (this is one)... and I ask you, when (oh when?!) will this boy stop spitting up?? Sweet potatoes aren't as sweet when they're coming back at you! Seriously.)

The world of food

There are so (SO) many opinions out there on just when and how to start your baby on "solid" foods. It can be a bit overwhelming, to be honest. For quite a few reasons I've been dragging my feet and trying to hold off on anything that isn't mother's milk. Jeremy, on the other hand, has been anxious to jump in as soon as the Dr. gave the go-ahead (at the four month check up). I would probably still be dragging my feet if Raymond wasn't chomping at the bit to get anything and everything in his mouth.

He fits all the "ready" requirements on most lists (supported sitter, over 13 lbs, mouthing things, teething, anxious, etc.). That and he still nurses every 1.5-2 hours. So far that's seemed to be enough, but in just the last few days it suddenly hasn't. I was adamant, however, that we would wait until he was at least five months. Which happened yesterday. So my excuses were up. Today was the lucky day.

He did much better than I thought. He actually swallowed some, I think. He was hungry for it--reaching and shoving that spoon in his mouth with gusto. The adventure has begun...

four months, 1 week

height: 25 1/2 inches (66%)
weight: 13 lbs 13 oz (22 %)
head circumference: 15 1/2 inches (20%)

Today we went for a walk--despite the fall bluster. Not far. Just to the swings, in fact. Raymond usually likes to swing in my lap for an indefinite amount of time. Today we learned that he loves to swing in the kiddy swing for an indefinite amount of time. His laughter was joyous to behold!

He's turned into a pretty regular sleeper. Bedtime every night is between 6:00 and 7:00pm. Most nights he doesn't wake up until between 2:00 and 4:00am. Then he's up for an hour or so between 5:00 and 6:00 (always back down no later than 8:00am). The rest of the day is filled with naps every two hours. Usually it ends up being about three naps a day for an hour or two each. Whew! (Not that you really wanted to know all this information... I'm just extremely proud of the facts, not going to lie).

He loves to play with his "toys" (wire whisks, measuring spoons, etc.). He can roll back to front and front to back. he loves to read (his favorite books are about animals). He loves, loves, loves music of every sort (particularly singing by his mama). And he loves to eat.

Why I'm glad we didn't wait

I am glad we didn't wait to start having kids. For those of you who haven't done the math, Raymond was born pretty darn close to nine months after we were married. It was a conscious decision we both made before we were married. This was one of those things we were on the same page with almost immediately. In fact, I would venture say it was a "selling point" while dating. We both wanted it. We both felt strongly about it. We were both ready. It has proven to be a wonderful blessing; here are some of the reasons why (not listed in order of importance):

• Pregnancy created an immediate interdependence. I'm sort of independent gal--I like to do things my own way. I love being self reliant. But I quickly learned while pregnant that I needed help. I needed support. I needed a husband. This has only increased with the arrival of the wee one.
  
• It put everything into perspective financially. From day one we were forgoing and saving on account of needing our resources for something other than ourselves. We quickly had to learn to live within our budget and get ourselves financially able to support another (entirely dependent) little person.
• I am not as young as I used to be (an obvious statement). AKA I only have so many child bearing years in me. And we want a large family. I get giddy thinking about all the other little people who will come into our family, and I'm so grateful one is already here!
• Raymond himself is such a blessing in our lives. His steady penetrating gaze. Those tender little snuggles. The beauty of his smile and joy of his laugh. Living with such a tiny human spirit gives so much more depth to life than I ever knew was possible.
• The Plan of Salvation has become more tangible than ever before. I remember teaching the Plan of Salvation over and over again as a missionary. I remember feeling anxious then to begin my own family. And here it is. The Abrahamic promise that "your seed shall be as the sands of the sea" takes on new meaning when one small and precious piece of sand is placed in your hands.
• Incredible financial blessings have come as we have followed the prophets' counsel to multiply and replenish the earth. The support of heaven has been miraculous to behold.
• Adjusting to marriage has always simultaneously been an adjustment to a family for us. Going from two to three has not felt like the sacrifice it perhaps would have if we had had an extended amount of time with the freedom of, say, date nights without babysitters.
• As in no other job, no other role, no other capacity, I feel like I am being stretched and molded, fine tuned and placed in the refiner's fire as I begin this adventure called motherhood. And yet it feel so natural, so comfortable, so calm--this life I lead. It is like a modern dance piece: organic and dynamic while using every muscle to its limit. Life has taken on a beautiful and new rhythm.
  

I know this is a somewhat controversial topic (ok, obnoxiously controversial topic), and I am by no means trying to pass any sort of judgment on you or your situation by this post. I also know there are sadly many people who don't want to wait to have children but are forced to--struggling with infertility. My heart breaks for them. But we all press forward, right? Doing the best we can and making righteous choices.

baby faces

rosy cheeks
one cocked eyebrow
staring off into distant places
eager anticipation
wide eyes
distracted gazing
the prairie dog fists
buried nose
head scratching
eyes rolling
finger chewing
singing and sucking
eyes darting
shirt grabbing
little leg stretching
silent sleeping
furrowed brow
finger holding
delicate red eyelashes drooping

Some of Raymond's most adorable and endearing moments happen while nursing. So even if I did have new batteries for my camera, you wouldn't get to see them. Although I wish you could. He is so darling.

Don't let the bed bugs bite

I must admit, sleep deprivation has been getting the better of us. Little Raymond has a sweet temperament. I can tell he wants to smile all the time. But he's just too plain worn out most of the time to do anything but fuss. And cry. And eat.

Particularly the problems manifest themselves at night. We've managed to settle ourselves into an unsettling routine. He goes to bed (at an unpredictable time between 6pm and 11pm). And then at that first waking (between 12am and 3am) we find ourselves on the couch... for the rest of the night. I am too tired to stay awake for a full nursing (remember, he's a slow little eater) and then a few hours later when we wake up, it's time to nurse again. It's turned itself into a perverse sort of co-sleeping with me in the upright position (talk about a kinked neck) and Raymond nestled into the boppy on my lap.

This has been going on for months, folks. We won't even go into the irregularity and brevity of his naps.

Last week, I decided it really needed to end. And soon. Since real co-sleeping (him in bed with us) is just not an option for us, I decided I needed some professional help to get us out of this mess. I started researching books on baby sleeping habits and made a little list of ones I hoped the library might have. Lucky for me (since the library didn't have any of them), my sister-in-law, Jeanine, had Healthy Sleeping Habits, Happy Baby. Goodness! I've been reading like a madwoman for a week now.

And I must say, Hallelujah!

While I don't want to jinx it, I just want to praise the fact that Raymond slept in his own little crib from 7:30pm to 6:30am with only a 45 minute feeding at 3:00am. And I woke up in my own bed this morning. Wow. I recognize that there is still much work to be done, and it's probably not always going to be such smooth sailing. But, wow. I recognize that it is my responsibility, even duty, to make sure he is getting the sleep he needs. Since I have been working so hard on helping him nap during the day (recognizing his sleepy signs and getting him to sleep before he's too fussy) and have established some going-to-sleep routines for day and night sleeping, he's perhaps going to sleep better at night. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I must say that I agree with Dr. Weissbluth that a well rested family is of utmost importance. So here's to sleep and the hope of more in the future!

Brace yourselves...

After much debate, deliberation (and too many Wal-mart runs) we've officially gone cloth. As in Cloth diapers.

Keep breathing.

A lot of factors played into this decision. Way back in pregnancy days Jeremy had come across a spreadsheet indicating cost saving benefits of cloth diapers. At the time my only experience with cloth was what I saw in Honduras. It was highly ineffective and quite frankly a mess. I wasn't so interested in joining that club anytime soon. I saw a few modern, American versions on the internet sometime thereafter and was appeased that it didn't have to be the pre-folded, safety-pinned version... but I still didn't give it much thought.

Then Raymond arrived. And in about 2 weeks our supply of gifted disposable diapers was quickly coming to an end. We made our first Wal-mart run for diapers. The pack of 92 lasted no more than two weeks. I started taking the idea of cloth seriously. Honestly, who can afford roughly $40 a month in diapers? Who wants to?

I started doing some serious research. Most of my early searching started from this blog: theclothdiaperreport.com. She gives a lot of basic information about different types of cloth diapers, brands, etc. Since I was completely novice, I started at the beginning.

There are a wide variety of cloth diapers out there: prefolds, pocket, all-in-ones, one size... the list goes on. That is not to mention brands. Wow. Who knew? I spent seriously a full week doing internet searches and trying to figure out what would work best for us.

In the end, we have purchased Fuzzibunz sized diapers. They are pocket diapers--meaning there is an insert that I stuff inside the diaper before use. The beautiful thing about Fuzzibunz is that I do not have to de-stuff the diaper before washing. I simply throw it in the washer and the rest is history.

Oh wait... that's the part about this whole thing that grosses most people out: the washing. So far, I must say it's pretty easy. I do not need to rinse or soak these bad boys. Like I said, I simply throw them in. Someday when Raymond has more solid bowel movements I will need to dump it in the toilet before stowing the diaper in my diaper bin awaiting wash. But that's all. From there I do a cold pre-rinse, and a regular wash cycle. And I only use 1/4-1/2 the detergent. Since we've bought the lower end of the recommended number to have on hand, I plan on washing about every other day. Not so bad.

They seem to do ok with leeks so far. They do need the recommended initial 5-6 washings to be the most leak proof... but they still only leak about as much as the disposables.

And the best part? Besides saving the land fills from billions of diapers... there will be no more Wal-mart runs in the near future.

Oh happy day

We sure have a happy boy on our hands these days. Don't get me wrong, there's still some crying... but man is it worth it when it's countered with this happy face just as often. So fun!

In my spare time...

I have acquired quite a bit of couch time as of late (read: slow eating nursing baby). So as not to become bored staring at the wall for 6-8 hours out of every 24, I have become a master at holding a book and flipping pages with one hand (I have also become a one-handed typing phenomenon... which is what I'm doing right now).

My latest genre of books has been of the WWII/Holocaust variety. I had a surprising amount just on my shelves:
Surprisingly enough, I had never read Night, despite it being on my "To Read" list (and my shelves) for quite some time. It is the memoir of a Polish Jew who is evacuated with his family and put in labor and concentration camps. Weisel does a beautiful job of pulling in the reader and making his experience come horrifyingly alive. It was sad to me, however, that his experience changed him from a fervent believer in God to a questioner.

Having read one holocaust book urged me to read a second. The Hidding Place is one of those books that gets quoted on occation in sacrament meeting and other such places. I had started it before, but did not get sucked in like I did this time. It is about a family--aging father and two unmarried daughters (in their 50s and 60s) in Denmark who become part of the underground railroad smuggling out Jews. And like Night, it is a true story. But such a contrast in how Corrie and Betsy (the sisters) handle the consequences of their actions compared to Weisel. I loved them from the beginning for their faith, determination, honesty, and goodness.

Much like The Hidding Place, In My Hands is about a resistance fighter rather than a Jew in a consentration camp. Irene Gut Opdyke was Polish and forced to work for the German Nazis who took over her country. Of all the books I read, this one was the most beautifully written. I loved the motifs, symbolism, and imagery.

I Will Plant You a Lilac Tree: a memoir of a Shindler's list surviver is about Laura Hillman's experience in labor and concentration camps before making it onto Schindler's list along with the Polish POW she had met and fallen in love with. While this book is not as beautifully or eloquently written as In My Hands, it is honest and real. Because my sister Sara knows the author, this story is horrifyingly real for me.

This is the first of my little series that is fiction. I read this book for the first time last year and loved it. I love the style, I love the frankness of the narrator (death), I love the characters, I love the imagery, I love the goodness in this story. This is about a make-shift German foster family who does not support Hitler in the middle of Nazi Germany. I was suprised my second time through how much language it had in it (although the vast majority is kept in German--which I don't speak--and doesn't seem to bother me as much as American swear words in print). I cried all the way through the end of this book again. When it was over, I wished there was more.

The Chosen is another book I have read before (many years ago) and remember loving. It is not as much about WWII--although it takes place during the war, only in America. It focuses on the friendship of an orthodox Hasidic Jew and a traditional Jew in New York. What I love about this book is the way it throws you in the middle of Jewish life and culture. And I love the depth and goodness of the characters. I wish I had the sequal, The Promise, but alas, I nor the SUU library seem to have it.

This is the only book left on my shelves in the WWII/holocaust genre. I started it... and I couldn't get into it (again). There something about Frankl's need to psyco-analyze the effect of the consentration camps that pushes me away. Not that I don't think what he's doing is valid, I just can't quite get pulled in yet. I feel kind of bad about it too, but what can you do?


Reading all of these books has made me think a lot about a lot of things. I think WWII pulled the absolute best and worst out of humanity. It is horrifying how brutal and cruel some were, and enobling and enabling to realize how courageous, kind, and good others were. Such a dichotomy.

It has made me reflect on why there is such suffering and the role God plays in our lives. Despite the many who lost their faith and their God because of their experiences, there were so many others who reaffirmed theirs. I am sure that God is not dead despite the millions who were killed. And I know that it was not his will that so much suffering and injustice occured. I am confident that justice will be served in the end.

I am sad to see my collection of this genre come to an end. Does anyone have any more suggestions for me? I feel somewhat at a loss for what to read next...