Measuring Success

Yesterday was a rough day for me.  Oh, nothing bad happened.  It was just one of those days in which you are more susceptible to feeling crappy about yourself.  Your perceptions are off about things and it's very easy to skew reality.  You know, one of those days where someone looks at you and appears to be glaring and you think you did something to offend them, while in reality the sun was in their eyes.  One of those days that you talk to your friends and they may sound a little curt over the phone and you think you let them down or somehow upset them, but in actuality they ate a bite of something nasty.  I had one of those days yesterday.

It all began when David woke up at 4:30, like usual.  Yes, you read that right.  My child wakes up at 4:30ish nearly every morning.  And that's where my day went wrong.  Right from the start.  Sometimes we can get him back to sleep for a little while by bringing him into bed with us.  That doesn't seem to be working very well lately, though.  Yesterday he decided he would be happy with that for about 20 minutes and then proceeded to cry inconsolably for an hour.  No clue why.  We bounced, rocked, shushed, you name it - we did it.  Nothing worked.  Except, finally, to just let him be awake.  During that time I lost my patience with him.  I got frustrated.  I snapped at him.  And I felt horrible about it afterwards.  

See, I feel like the biggest failure because my child doesn't sleep past 4:30.  Oh, he gets 10 hours of sleep every night.  But that's just it.  He sleeps exactly 10 hours, some nights 10 and a half.  Nothing we do makes him sleep later.  And since the topic of sleep and sleeping through the night or napping is a pretty big one with new parents, it tends to come up a lot.  I always dread it because once I mention that he wakes up at that hour, the mouths drop open, the eyes widen and the looks of horror come onto people's faces.  The advice starts to pour in: "Have you tried putting him to bed later?"  "Have you put him to bed earlier?"  "What about just leaving him in there?"  "What about doing cry it out?"  "I could NEVER wake up that early!"  And I feel like a failure all over again.  Those looks, those reactions, not to mention my own exhaustion since, you know, I've been up since 4:30, make me feel like the biggest loser on earth.  And in those moments, everyone - myself included - forgets that my child actually sleeps for 10 hours straight.  Yep, that's right.  He sleeps REALLY, REALLY well for 10 hours.  That's actually quite a long time!  But, since this world - myself included - has been trained to think that babies and toddlers need/must/have to sleep for 12 hours straight at night, well....I'm a failure.

Except that yesterday, I really started thinking about that.  I was quite defeated at 7 in the morning and was sitting on our family room floor, leaning against Andy who was laying on our family room floor (David, meanwhile, was happily cruising around the house with his little walking toy, giggling like crazy), when I told Andy that I felt like a sub-par mom.  He looked at me and said, "You're crazy.  Look at our little boy.  He is healthy and happy.  What more could we ask for?"  Well, I don't know about Andy, but I could certainly ask for a better wake-up time in the morning.  But.  But.  His words woke something up in me.  I had an epiphany.  The thought entered my mind, "How am I defining success as a mom?"

Currently, I'm defining it as making sure that my child sleeps 12 hours.  On other occasions, I've defined it as being able to breastfeed for a year.  On still other occasions I've defined it as my child hitting his milestones early.  And do you realize how silly that is?  I have been setting myself up for failure!  I cannot control any of those things.  I can't make David learn something before he's ready (trust me, I've tried).  I can't breastfeed if it's unhealthy for me mentally.  I just can't.  And I can't make my beautiful, wonderful, happy child sleep longer than 10 or 10.5 hours.  I can't.  I've tried everything.  We've done the later bedtime.  Guess what?  He still wakes up at 4:30, but now he's had less sleep so he's cranky.  We've done an earlier bedtime.  Guess what?  He still wakes up at 4:30, but now he's had more sleep, so he's less cranky.  (Which one of those do you think we choose to do?)  We've tried doing cry it out at 4:30.  Yeah, that was an epic failure.  Epic.  He was still awake, but now he was tired from crying, hungry on top of it and just really, really wanted OUT of his crib.  We were also exhausted and cranky after it because we'd been awake listening to him cry.  Epic failure.  Epic.  I've read every book/blog/website and heard all the stories about, "Oh, I tried this and my child slept for 12 hours!"  I've held onto the hope that if I do one of those magical things, David will just suddenly start sleeping for 12 hours.  Yeah, no.  Not at all.  Not even close.

And so, yesterday, I found myself contemplating that question: "How am I defining success as a mom?"  The first step, I realized, was to toss out my previous ideas of success.  We'll start with the sleeping for 12 hours at night.  I just have to accept that this is how David sleeps right now.  And it is temporary, though that may last longer than we want it to.  Years instead of days.  Who knows when he'll start sleeping later?  It will happen someday, but I just have to accept that this is the way it is right now.  So, really, how am I going to define my success as a mom?  I don't know yet.  That's a big question that has long-term ramifications.  I do know, though, that I want a happy, healthy child.  One who is sweet and thoughtful and kind.  One who accepts others.  One who takes pride in himself and his hard work.  Oh....maybe I do know how I am going to define success as a mom.  Maybe, just maybe, I do.  And those qualifications for success really have nothing to do with some of the things that I have previously set for myself...or that society has set for me.

In the meantime, I'm going to count down the hours until daylight savings time starts.  You know why?  Because that means his 4:30 wake-up will magically turn into a 5:30 wake-up.  I'll take it.

Decisions, decisions.

Hot chocolate or tea?  High heels or flats?  Hit the snooze button for the 19th time or finally get up?   Curl your hair or put it up?  Eat the whole package of Reese's or only eat one?  (Ummm...duh - if you even have to spend any time contemplating that last question, we cannot be friends or related anymore.) Wine or beer or margaritas?  To be or not to be?

Okay, so we all know that life is full of decisions.  And, that those decisions change with your age and life situation.  I mean, take a look back at your childhood and think about the most pressing decision you had then.  And then high school...college...just graduated, etc.  It's obvious that we have decisions to make each day.  For many of us, those decisions are really not all that life altering.  But, sometimes, sometimes, we find ourselves in a situation in which we are forced to make that really tough, life-changing choice.  What I was wholly unprepared for when we got pregnant, was just how BIG those decisions are when you have a baby.  Oh, sure, some of them are really not all that big of a deal - Huggies or Pamper or Luvs, Desitin or A&D, Graco or Chicco, etc. - but some of them sure are.  And they seem to carry so much more weight and importance because it's your baby that you are talking about!

Andy, David and I have fumbled our way into just one of those life-changing, tough decision making scenarios.  It took a lot of spluttering, splashing and floundering before we finally figured things out.  You see, we always had this vision of how things would go as a family (I know, right?  All you experienced parents are laughing because you know how fast those visions change based on your child(ren).)  "Andy and I would both work, David would happily go to daycare, our house would always be spotless, a wonderful 5-course meal would always be on the table for dinner, none of us would ever get sick, we would all sleep like angels...blah, blah, blah."  Yeah, well, that vision has been shot to hell a really warm place.

It turns out that it is A LOT harder to leave your child during the day than I thought it would be.  It has been brutal to be gone from him.  I drop him off every morning and he cries when I go.  And, while I know this is a totally normal phase, it's still incredibly hard.  Plus, he is just not the same baby at daycare that he is at home.  He eats differently there (often, not enough), naps differently (often, not at all or only once), gets chronic diaper rash and I worry so much about the toll it is taking on him.  Have we loved the things he's learned?  Yes!  Do I miss the fact that he learns them for someone else first and not me?  Absolutely.  Couple that with the ridiculous workload that teachers have now and, well, you have one unhappy mama.

So, through many, many, many tears (I'm truly surprised that I didn't start a new river) and the incredible support of Andy, my family and friends, I decided to resign at the end of this fall semester.  It's practically unheard of for a teacher to leave mid-year, but I've realized that family has to come first.  While I absolutely love what I do, it's just so much more important that I stay at home and raise my child(ren) and put that 5 course meal on the table.  Well, let's not get carried away here...

Andy and I have a new vision - it's not as clear as the one we had while pregnant, but it is forming each and every day.  It is cloudy and foggy at times, but we are working through what it will look like.  We are sure to face surprises along the way, but I think we are better prepared because we know they will be coming. I have been absolutely humbled by the support I have received - particularly from the parents of my students.  So, we just wanted you to know the newest and biggest change that is happening with our family.  We are all so excited!

But, if you see me wandering around Highlands Ranch with curlers in my hair or the same yoga pants that I wore the day before or chasing my child down the street (this will totally happen, I am 100% positive) please feel free to have an intervention.  :-)

It's Going too Fast!!!

I want to try and write at least once a month, but there are times when narrowing down the topic is really hard!  There is just always so much going on in our lives and it's hard to focus on one thing.  However, there is one thing that keeps going through my mind: this is going by WAY too fast!

David is just over 8 months old and he's SUCH a different baby!  I was just looking back through all of the pictures we have from when he was a newborn and I can't believe how much he's grown!

Here he is at 1 week old:

And now, at 8 months!

There are times that I try to recall what it was like when he was such a tiny newborn and I find that it is hard to bring forth those memories.  Oh, I remember the emotions - the overwhelming joy, excitement, exhaustion, nervousness, fear of failure as parents, and complete and utter LOVE.  But the actual memories?  In all honesty, they are kind of vague.  Thank goodness I took a million pictures to look back at.

And I've wondered why I can't bring forward all those memories.  When I really think about it, I believe that it's because things are happening SO.DARN.FAST!  He was just a newborn and now, in the past 2 months, he has turned into such an active, adventurous little baby.  David has been on the speedy track to learn how to crawl, stand and...oh my...walk!  He's not quite walking on his own, yet, but it is his favorite thing to walk while holding our hands.  He's been babbling, holding his own bottle, trying out more and more solid foods, cutting teeth, etc.  Daily he surprises us and makes us laugh.  It is so amazing to watch him grow into his little person.  :-)

And there still exists the nerves - what if we fail?  I mean, this is probably the biggest, most important role of our lives and what if we screw up?  I suppose those particular nerves will never really go away and we usually just have to look at how happy he is to feel reassured that we are doing a good job.  But, if anyone would mind slowing down time a little...well, that would be great!

I Promise...

Well, I have about 3 other blog posts that I have started over the past few months about various and sundry things.  None of them are finished and, to be honest, I'm not sure if all of them will be finished.  Ever.  But.  But, I wanted to write tonight because I needed to share something that has been in my heart, on my chest and taking up residence in my brain for a while.  I wanted to share with you all why I Promise...to be honest.  And that's exactly it.  I promise to be honest.

I spent years...seriously, YEARS...trying to hide my feelings and opinions.  Eventually I learned that I didn't need to hide them all of the time.  After the ridiculous Kleenex soaked tantrums stopped from that realization (hey, I was in high school/college at the time and still a teenager...I plead hormones in this case), I have tried very, very, very hard to be honest with myself about what I'm feeling, thinking and doing, despite how it may across to others.  And I have been very successful at that over the years - most of the time.  Or, I should say, I have been very honest with myself and a few select, trusted others.  And I say that because I have learned that I am a very reserved person.  Not many people get to see the real me - the goofy, fun loving, occasional tantrum causing, emotional, caring, loving, feisty, stubborn, silly, nice person - that I am.  There have been times - usually in the middle of complete and total dramatic breakdowns - that I have told the other person/people that they should be grateful because I am showing them the "real" me.  At the time, they are always like, "WHA-?!?!?!?!"  But it's true, even if it doesn't seem like it when they are faced with a raging she-demon.  I obviously trust them enough with my heart, brain and soul to show them the me that I am not at all proud of and to believe that they will still love me afterwards.  And so, here I am.  Taking a risk.  I am here to share with the entire world, or at least those people that are Facebook friends with me and those who read this blog, exactly who I am in this time that I feel the most vulnerable that I have ever felt...motherhood.

I promise to the world and those above, right now, to be honest.  I was reading an article earlier tonight that talked about the "Pinterest-stress" that most mothers/women feel.  Well, I'm totally guilty.  I am here to tell you that I suffer from Pinterestitist.  I suffer from the desire to be a perfect wife, mother, friend, sister, daughter, teacher, WOMAN.  See, the unintentional thing that happens from those kind of websites and media is that people feel the need to be perfectly crafty, perfectly clean, perfectly "chef-y", perfectly...perfect.  And I love Pinterest.  And I won't stop.  BUT, I think it's important to note and recognize that the creators of those pins that we all love are. not. perfect. either.  It can just be hard to show to the whole world.  Sooooo...here I am.  A new mother.  Facing totally new, unfathomably huge, incredibly rewarding emotions/decisions/opinions.  And I promise to be honest.

I promise to be honest...

• that I was one of "those moms", the "Breast-apo," that thought formula was horrible and breast milk was the only way to go, "if you were a good mom."  That it was the worst thing in the world and it was only "okay" if a mom had a medical reason to do it.  Well, I'm here to tell you that I am a formula mom.  Yes, I had a medical reason to do it - which I have learned doesn't matter one iota.  Yes, it was hard at first (emotionally and physically to wean), but OH.MY.GOD.  is it awesome!  David is on an expensive formula due to his milk protein allergy, and that totally sucks, but it is so freeing.  My body is my own and it is great.  Andy can feed him and he loves it.  David is thriving and that is excellent. So, I hereby apologize for being an ignorant, judgy, sancti-mom who thought she knew everything before feeling what it was like to be on "the other side."  (I hate the "Mommy wars."  They really piss me off.  Leave each other alone.  Every mom I know is going about it in a different way and we are all doing our best.  Our children are happy and growing.  That's all I ask from my fellow mothers.)

• that I feed David pre-made, store-bought baby food.  GASP!  Although, we switched from Gerber to Beechnut because, for some reason, the glass jar that Beechnut comes in makes it a much better food.  Seriously...not.  It's just cheaper and on sale more than Gerber.  Here's the deal, people.  Being a working mom is HARD.  That's right, I used capital letters.  I am wiped out when I pick David up from daycare at the end of my work day.  I am tired on the weekends and really would rather spend my days relaxing and playing with him than steaming and pureeing baby food.  And, you know what?  I like it.  I like that it's ready for me.  I like that the ingredients are the exact same that I would put into homemade baby food.  But, here's the thing.  I don't like that I feel judged when people ask me, "Why don't you make your own?' or "Have you tried organic?"  Well...I have my reasons why not and, holy sh-t people, have you seen how expensive organic baby food is!?!?!  Plus, it's not really any of your business.  Even if you think it is.  My child, my son, my heart, is thriving.  He is happy, he is healthy, he is growing, he is learning.  That's all I can ask for as a mother.

• that there are days that I think, 'what the heck did we get ourselves into?"  When I was pregnant, I was focused on getting the nursery ready, setting up a registry, and dealing with my daily discomforts.  Having a baby was this distant, dreamy thing.  Every time I thought of it, things were happening perfectly as they should.  There was no way I was actually prepared for what life was like when you bring a baby into it.  I love it.  It is amazing.  And it is hard.  You are sleep deprived.  As the mom (simply due to biology), you are more emotional, more hormonal and more irrational than you have ever been.  No amount of classes can prepare you for what it is really like.  You have a totally new identity.  Whoever you were before is still there.  I am still a wife, friend, teacher, sister, daughter, cousin, niece, etc.  But, I am also a MOTHER.  And that is a whole different ball game.  I am now responsible for the health and well-being of another human.  He is mine.  Andy and I made him.  I grew him.  I birthed him.  We love him.  We nurture him.  And we are, sometimes, super STRESSED!  It is a lot harder than we were prepared for.

• that having a baby takes its toll on relationships.  Obviously, being a parent changes how easily you can go out.  A trusted babysitter is needed, your child shouldn't be sick (at least, we don't feel okay having him be watched by someone else as an infant when he is sick), you need to plan in advance to get said babysitter, etc.  Plus, your friends tend to change.  It's just easier to spend time with people who have kids of a similar age or women who are or have been pregnant, so you can share your birth stories.  (I never understood the morbid fascination/need to share something so private until I became a mother.  Just the other day I was talking to the assistant director of David's daycare about what real contractions and your water breaking feels like.  To be fair, she is 35 weeks pregnant and asked.  But still.)  And then, it takes a toll on your marriage.  There, I said it.  I am married to one of the most amazing men in the world.  And there are times when things are not at all wonderful.  Being responsible for another human being is tiring and it can mean that you are exhausted once there is finally time for you as a couple.  We are still working on this. And, to be honest, there are many times that I am scared because of what I saw as a child with my own parents' relationship (they were divorced - but for totally different reasons.  It was still hard, though.). My husband is the most wonderful man who brings me back to reality and what we have to be grateful for.  I promise you that we try each other's patience, like, every day.  But he's there.  He understands.  We know that this is a phase and we will get through this.

• that even though I post those super cute photos of David on Facebook, it's not easy to get them.  Usually I take about a hundred or so pictures (thank you to the "speed" photo option on our camera) and find those select 10 or so.  He's usually yawning, not looking, crying or, lately, launching himself forward to crawl away, playing with the props, etc.  It's a two-person job and it takes patience.  Yes, my beautiful boy is a happy, wonderful child, but it is no easy task to take his picture.

I promise, world, that life is not perfect.  Don't let media sites, other people, etc. tell you differently.  They are merely trying to convince themselves that they have a wonderful life.  Well, I am here to tell you that I do not have a perfect life.  I have spit-up, arguments, laughter, smiles, blow-outs, snarly comments, kisses, hugs, brief caresses, etc.  And I wouldn't change it for the world.

The Best Advice I Ever Received

Well, I've been a mom for almost 6 months now.  (Right, how in the WORLD has time gone by that quickly?) In that time, I've had moments where I've felt like the best mom in the world.  And, many more moments in which I felt like the biggest failure in the world.  I'm coming to realize that this is a fairly normal feeling, as un-fun as it is.  (I know, I know that's not a word.  But I just couldn't resist using it.)  Anyway, up until last weekend, I was a in a big I'm-a-big-failure-as-a-mom slump until I remembered the best advice I ever received.  Well, it's actually 3 pieces of advice, but all of them are wonderful and equally as important.

1.) Whatever you decide is right.  -  I didn't really fully understand what this meant until I became a mom myself.  Intellectually, I knew what it meant.  But I had no clue the depth of meaning that goes with those words, until David was born and I was introduced to the "mommy wars."  Last summer, Andy and I were staying with some of his college friends before his 10 year college reunion. I was probably only about 8-9 weeks along at the time and had confided to Kim because I was feeling dizzy and tired all the time and didn't want to seem like a horrible houseguest. Kim, a wonderful woman, mother and friend, was the one who gave me this sage advice.  As I said, I didn't really fully understand it until just recently.  And that's because once I became a mother, I learned that everyone does things differently.  And everyone thinks their way is the only way.  And everyone also has no reservations in handing out unsolicited advice and judgements about what you choose to do.  "Breast is best." (As a disclaimer, yes I agree with that statement...up to a point.  I won't go into it all here, but let me say that I've spent A LOT of time thinking about that throughout my breastfeeding rollercoaster.)  "You shouldn't feed solids before 6 months."  "You should start solids at 4 months, no later."  "I would never do cry it out."  "Cry it out is the only way to go."  "You should make your own baby food."  "Vaccinations are awful."  "You HAVE to vaccinate."  Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  And I spent months - I mean MONTHS - trying to live up to the "perfect mom" ideal.  And then, then I discovered that I don't have to!  I won't tell you how many tears it took, or how many heart to hearts with Andy I had (the poor guy did a celebration dance when I finally realized this because he'd been saying it for months).  Just that it took a lot of both and a lot of time before I remembered this advice.  Whatever you decide is right.  And it is.  As long as David is healthy, happy (and so are we), than whatever we decide is right.  It doesn't matter if Betty Jo down the street is still breastfeeding and makes her own baby food and co-sleeps.  Or that Jane Doe gave formula from the get go and practices cry it out and her baby has slept in the crib from day one.  Or that we try a lot of different things before we find the right fit for us.  And, I have to tell you, we must be on the right track because he is one happy little guy!

2.) Do what you need to do in order to enjoy your baby.   - At my 6 week post-partum check-up, my OB applauded my decision to switch from nursing to exclusively pumping.  She said that I needed to "do what you need to do in order to enjoy your baby."  Those words stuck with me because they are so true!  I was feeling unhealthy levels of anxiety with my nursing experience and had to think about what I needed to do in order to enjoy my precious baby.  And it worked.  This time goes by so fast (again, I had no idea how true those words were until I became a mother) that you need to feel free to snuggle, love on and all around just adore that little bundle.

3.) If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. - I'm pretty sure I saw this on Transformers 3, but it's so true!  As moms, our happiness is just as important, if not more so, than our kids.  If we aren't happy, we won't be able to take care of our family as well as if we are happy.  Taking time for me is something that I try and make myself do everyday.  Sometimes I completely fail at and go days, or even weeks, without giving myself a chance to decompress.  And I pay for it.  But then, I spend a few minutes just focusing on me (browsing Pinterest, reading, playing a stupid computer game, taking a bubble bath, etc.) and feel better.  It's a good reminder that mothers need to remember themselves amongst the craziness of taking care of other people.  

Sleep is a 4-Letter Word

Okay, yes, I know.  Sleep technically has 5 letters in it: S-L-E-E-P.  BUT, in our house for a very, very long time, the word sleep would almost always elicit the same reaction as another 4-letter word that began with "S".  Or, for that matter, a 4-letter word that began with "F" or "D".  It was no longer synonymous with the "L" word - "love" or "like" or "lust" (though we certainly did lust after it for a while).  Oh, don't get me wrong, we LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE sleep.  It's just that, it's really hard to come by and wasn't something that happened for long stretches of time.  And, quite frankly, those people in our lives (which are pretty much everyone else who doesn't have an infant) who looked well-rested.  Welll...I'm not going to lie, there are moments when I wanted to smack you upside the head or sneak up to your house in the middle of the night and start a car alarm.  I mean, seriously?  How dare you walk around without perpetual bags under your eyes! Sheesh.  ;-)  We looked like zombies for many, many weeks and I'm pretty sure there are days that I still do.  Everyone around me must be the nicest people in the world to not point that out.  Thank you.  I love you for that.  :-)

Here is Andy looking like a zombie just a few days after we brought David home.  There are no pictures of me looking like this because, well, it would probably scare you all enough that you would never have kids or would hide in your closet.  Or, you would probably consume entire bottles of alcohol in a drunken attempt to forget the entire image was ever imprinted on your mind.

The lack of sleep was a HUGE eye-opener.  Yes, yes, yes, I know all you people told me that the horrible sleep I got in the last weeks of pregnancy was just to prepare me for having a newborn.  Well, here's the thing - it didn't.  I felt like crap during those weeks for a variety of reasons and the lack of sleep didn't help.  And, my sleep was probably more interrupted during that time than it was when we first brought David home.  However, after a few weeks with a newborn, I realized that I actually felt rested in final stage of pregnancy.  There is nothing - NOTHING - out there that can prepare you for the complete upheaval of your sleep.  Even though, as I learned, newborns sleep A LOT those first few weeks, it is not peaceful.  David was (still can be) a noisy little sleeper.  The squeaks, the grunts, the growls, the groans, the whimpers...holy cow!  Whoever said "sleeping like a baby" obviously was NOT talking about a newborn!  If you didn't know those were normal (and what first time parents do?), they would keep you awake constantly.  Couple that with the fear of SIDS or the roof caving in on your baby or a blanket leaping across the room to land on their heads...well, sleep was NOT peaceful or restful.   

Also, I cannot tell you how many people constantly asked me, "Is he sleeping through the night yet?"  I mean, this started when he was around 2 weeks old!  Just a tip for all of you out there, this is not a good question to ask any parent of an infant.  The answer is most likely no and even though it is asked with love and in all innocence, the resulting effect on the parents is a sense of, "Oh my god, what is WRONG with our baby?  We must be failing in some way because he is not sleeping through the night!"  Well, just an FYI, I learned from all my late night research, that most babies don't "sleep through the night" until around 3 months.  Some lucky parents have babies sleeping through the night around 8 weeks or even earlier, but those parents kissed a unicorn or something while pregnant, so they don't count.  :-)

I'm not going to lie. Those first few weeks were HARD and not just because of the lack of sleep, though that was certainly the biggest transition.  I would find myself up in the middle of the night, nursing David and Googling "when do babies sleep through the night."  The results were depressing, to say the least.  Plus, right around 4 weeks, our cute little guy had transformed into the fussiest, crankiest baby in this house.  Hooo-boy!  One night, after I told Andy that he HAD to leave work EXACTLY at 5 (and not one second later, because let me tell you, I would know) to come and relieve one exhausted mommy from a baby who'd been crying all day and hadn't really slept at all, I embarked on another Google search.  This time, though, it was about whether or not I was keeping David up too long.  The results were both depressing (because it ended up making me feel like a really bad mommy) and life changing.  The answer to the question was a resounding yes, I WAS keeping him up too long.  Once I realized this and started to put David down to sleep when he showed sleepy cues (and yes, I did Google what those cues would be - one has a lot of time on their hands in the middle of the night when no one is on Facebook and you are up rocking a baby to sleep), our little man became less cranky.  We had yet to see any real change in his nighttime sleeping, but desperately clung to the hope that it would happen and also to the statement that "sleep begets sleep."  So, my quest to teach him how to nap began.  Sometimes those naps would happen in his crib (rarely until he was closer to 10 weeks old)), many times those naps would happen in our arms and on a few memorable occasions, those naps would happen while I desperately drove around in the car for at least an hour.  Most often, though, he would take naps in his swing (oh, how I love the person who invented the infant swing!)

 Less than 2 weeks old.

 Not really sure how old, but isn't he cute?

 Less than 2 weeks in both of these...

Love, love, love.

While David is not sleeping through the night, yet, and has days where he takes many, many 30 minute naps, he is doing so much better and we are looking less and less like zombies.  He has more nights now in which he sleeps from 8-3 and has just recently started sleeping from the moment we lay him back down after feeding him until 7 or 8.  It has been amazing!  Who knew how much a 4-5 hour stretch of sleep would make you feel almost human again?  Plus, we have been laying him down awake for about 2 weeks now and he is definitely learning how to put himself to sleep -  a HUGE success!

Just a fair warning, though, the phrase "I'm so tired" is pretty much guaranteed to get you, at the very least a frown, but more likely a dunking in any nearby toilet.  :-)

10 Reasons...

At 39 weeks, I am almost 10 months pregnant.  What!?!?  They never said you had to be pregnant for 10 months - I always thought it was 9!  :-)  And I am more than happy to be pregnant for that long (okay, maybe not MORE than happy) if it means that this little one will be healthy when he is born.  And while it has been a long, exciting 10 months for me, I know it has also been a long, exciting journey for Andy as well.  So, I wanted to take this moment to list the 10 reasons why he is a wonderful husband and why I know he will be a fantastic father (hey, these wonderful men in our lives need to be honored for dealing with all of our pregnancy shenanigans!)

1.) He tells me I am his beautiful pregnant wife every day.  'Nough said about this one!  :-D

2.) He rolls with my moods - and I really mean rolls!  It has been a bit of a roller coaster for me to be perfectly happy one minute, crying the next, smiling and then angry.  You never know what you're going to get at times!  But Andy has been incredibly patient and supportive through it all - even if I am not so, uh, nice to him.  When I apologize after the fact, he always reassures me that it is okay and that he loves me.  

3.) Our baby loves it when he feels my belly.  Whenever I worry that our little man isn't moving as much, all Andy has to do is place his hand on my tummy.  Then, this little guy gets so excited that he starts doing some interesting combination of somersaults, salsa-dancing, soccer kicks and the running man.  He loves his daddy.  :-)

4.) He is willing to drive to the store to pick up anything I might want - even if he is exhausted himself.  The other night, Andy was working late - I think he left the office at 8:30 or 9 p.m.  He called me from the car and I asked him if we had any ice cream in the house.  It turns out that we didn't, but this wonderful man in my life stopped at the store and picked up a half gallon just for me.  And then, get this, when he got home he DISHED IT UP FOR ME and brought it upstairs to bed so that I wouldn't have to get out of bed (not the most graceful thing anymore) and come downstairs to do it myself!  Can you believe that?  After the stop at the store, he probably didn't get home until closer to 9:30/9:45 and he was still wonderful enough to do that for me.  What a guy!

5.) He goes to the grocery store for me.  These past couple of weeks, being on my feet for extended periods of time is really exhausting for me and has made my back hurt.  So, my wonderful hubby has willingly volunteered to go in my place.  And aside from that first trip, which took him approximately an hour to an hour and a half AND had numerous phone calls home to me, he has done a wonderful job!  And I really appreciate not having to waddle through the aisles right now.  

6.) He ties my shoes.  So, I used to wear slip-ons everyday, but they stopped being supportive enough for me at work these past 2 weeks.  I do have slip-on tennis shoes, but my feet don't fit into them very well right now - thank you very much, water retention!  So, that leaves my running shoes, which are exceedingly comfortable and supportive.  (Thank you to my principals, by the way, for insisting that I dress comfortably at work!)  Well, the downside is that I can't bend over to tie them, so Andy drags himself out of bed each morning to tie them for me.  

7.) He has done the lion's share of housework for the past few months - laundry, cleaning the cat boxes, dishes, cooking, vacuuming, etc.  Now, he has always done some of these (something about me leaving the laundry in the washer for hours before remembering to switch it to the dryer has prompted him to take over that chore each week), but some of them were always my chores or ones that we split.  I love to vacuum, weirdo that I am, but haven't been able to for a while because the repetitive motion made my back really sore afterwards.  The cat box is fairly self-explanatory - pregnant women aren't supposed to touch or come near cat feces; but it still isn't a fun one to do.  :-(  I used to do the cooking for the most part, along with some of the dishes, but after being on my feet most of the day at work, making dinner every night just seemed too much.  So, Andy started cooking more and more - which means we have eaten a lot of pasta, but hey!  Who's complaining?  

8.) He thinks the, ahem, less glamorous side effects of pregnancy are hilarious.  Without going into too many details, let's just say that he's a guy and he appreciates that there are certain things out of my, er, control right now.  And instead of feeling embarrassed by them, he makes me laugh because he thinks it's hilarious!

9.) He has become incredibly involved in getting the nursery ready!  We're talking many hours spent painting the nursery with my dad, time spent putting the furniture together and HOURS spent choosing just the right chair to go in the nursery.  (Let's not talk about that one...it became a sore spot after the 100th chair he showed me.)  This little guy has quite the daddy!

10.) Even though he hates getting his picture taken, he agreed to do a maternity photo shoot just for me.  :-)  Hopefully we will get those pictures back soon and I can post them!  Andy was a real trooper and seemed to actually enjoy the session, even going so far as to choose some places to take pictures, ways to hold lil' man's shoes, etc.  He ended up having a really great time!

I just wanted to share all of these because people focus so much on the mother during pregnancy (and, obviously, there's some very great reasons why), but sometimes forget that the dads are going through it as well.  He clearly cannot understand the physical or even some of the emotional changes/challenges that I have experienced, but that certainly doesn't mean that he isn't feeling or experiencing nothing!  I think it's really important to honor these dads - they have put up with their wives becoming much needier, dependent and, at times, an entirely different person.  Thank you, Andy, for being so incredibly wonderful!  I love you and cannot wait to raise this little baby with you!