I Once Heard that 'Bullet Points' was Too Violent a Term.

• I am working insane hours. Like, basically, ALL THE HOURS. I've working like crazy to launch a new website that will rebrand my business, and have lots of wonderful clients that I'm working with, as well. I go to bed too late, ignore my husband and baby too much, and am generally parked in front of my computer all hours of the day. Seriously. I told Mike today that I understood why the teacher from The Freedom Writers got divorced. Not that I'm saving the world or anything. Just working 20/7.

• As much as I use LeechBlock (love!), I sometimes cheat. As a result, I've had to make a wallpaper for my desktop to remind myself to just STOP IT ALREADY. I've had a few requests to share, so here it is!



To use: click on it so it opens in another window. Then right click (or ctrl+click and 'set as desktop background.')

• I just launched an internationally best-selling author's blog today. She lives in London and just got back from a trip to Italy to meet with historians. Have I mentioned how awesome and interesting my clients are?

• Have I ever told you that I am stupidly obsessed with The View? I'm not sure if it's the fact that it's on Hulu or if I  actually like it...but I pretty much watch an episode every day while cleaning and cooking dinner. I tell Mike that I watch it to hear current events discussed...like Octomom bringing her 23 children on an airplane.  Yeah.  

• I am contemplating switching to WordPress. I still think Blogger is AMAZING in terms of what it has to offer, especially for newbies (free > $100 a year). But the plug-ins? I might be in love.

• I like Harry Potter, but I'm not obsessed. Is there a middle ground? It seems as though everyone is either FANS!!11 HARRY POTTER FOREVERRRR or...hasn't read the books.  I loved the books, but I honestly cannot handle Daniel Ratcliff as Harry. I'll see the movie on DVD. Or at the dollar theater. Are you going to take away my wand now?

•  I'm sort of tired of being a mom. I mean, not being Gabe's mom, but being a mom amongst other moms; existing in this weird world where everyone has opinions about Really Important Things like parenting and how to feed your child and take care of your child...and talking about it is tiring. Don't get me wrong, it's also reassuring and helpful to know that other people have so been there. But the part that exhausts me is the partisanship (where you belong to a parenting philosophy instead of a political party).  People get defensive when they do things differently than someone else. (I mean, there is clearly Right and Wrong about some things; child abuse = NO), but I feel like I can't ever talk about what my experiences and choices as a mother without a few people popping up to say, "That didn't work for me/That's not how we do it/Let me tell you why you're wrong." See? Tiring.

• I got two novels from the library today Mockingjay (!!!! - the final in The Hunger Games series; I almost don't want to start it!) and Matched by Ally Condie. They are both 'teen' novels. Mike may have made fun of me. (His books right now? Political philosophy and freaking Ghandi.)

• I am also reading Tina Fey's Bossypants and I am even MORE in love with her. I told Mike I wished she had a blog, but he said she's too important for that. Psh. And last night as we were laying in bed reading, I kept making him read funny bits from Bossypants (so, basically, ALL OF IT). He said, "Ha! Let me read something to you that Ghandi wrote that is hilarious."

A Quarter of a Million Dollars in Eighteen Years, They Say!

We hear ALL. THE. TIME. about how darn expensive babies are. But what no one talks about is the ways babies save you money.

Yes, you read that right: Gabe has saved us money.

Say WHAT?

Let's discuss:

- I feel like stopping for Starbucks on the way to get groceries, but Gabe has fallen asleep in the backseat and I really don't feel like waking him up. Money saved weekly: $5

- I'm running into Target for some mouthwash and Spin Pins (I lost my first set and they are essential for long-haired girls!). I don't feel like dealing with a cart, so I decide to just hold Gabe and run in and out, thereby avoiding checking out the clothing department, the baby department, and every end cap clearance section. Money saved weekly: $50

- In the first month Gabe was home, we didn't go out to eat like we normally do a few times a month. Instead of our usual budget of $75 for going out to eat, we spent $15. (Okay, so this hasn't really been as gigantic of a savings in the month since, but we certainly go out to eat less since it's more of a hassle with a baby.) Money saved weekly: $20

- While running errands, I drive past a cupcake shop/Target/fun little store and instead of getting out and indulging, I drive right by - since the hassle of getting Gabe out of his car seat and back in would negate any enjoyment I find in said cupcake. (I need a roller coaster harness in my car instead of a car seat. Push a button, Gabe is strapped in. Presto.) Money saved weekly: $10

- Buying new clothes for Gabe is far more exciting than buying clothes for myself these days. I know he'll look absolutely adorable in anything without having to try it on. I, on the other hand? Not so much. Since baby clothes are cheaper than adult clothes, I can spent $30 and get him six outfits. $30 would get me maybe three shirts. (Bargain shoppers, unite!) Money saved weekly: $20

Total money saved each week: $105. 

Plus, I'm hyper-motivated to cut corners so we can afford for me to only work part-time. (Hellooo, cloth diapering while traveling.)

Here's to half-full glasses, my friends. And money-saving babies.

Traveling with a Babe.

I wasn't going to post about the 'how tos' traveling with Gabe, because I feel like I'm too often spouting Opinions and Advice, but then I got emails, messages, and comments asking me for advice - so, here I am with Lists! And Advice! And Opinions!

This summer, we've traveled to the beach, the mountains, New York City, an amusement park, and several places in between. We've stayed at hotels, a beach house, and our families' homes. We spent every night for nearly three weeks away from home at the end of May/beginning of June. And we still have nine days at a cabin in Western Massachusetts and stopping to visit our friends along the way. And three weddings. We hibernate all winter, so it's time to get OUT all the time in the summer.

Disclaimer: This is reflective of our baby and what works for us. Results may vary. 

On to the How Tos!

Have low expectations. Expect your baby to cry constantly. Expect to have no downtime. Expect the hotel to be loud. By setting the bar low (not being pessimistic, that's another matter), you'll be pleasantly surprised at how easy it all is. How much you can still do, even with a wee one.

Just do it. Yes, it's a little scary to think about changing your routine with a baby. I was nervous before we took our first trip that involved a hotel (thankfully, my husband talked me out of it).  I get it. The fear of it not going well is almost enough to not go. But it's totally worth it. Don't let your fears stop you. If you are super anxious about it, try just one night in a hotel a few hours from home to test things out. If it's awful, you can drive home. Chances are, your baby is probably more flexible than you give him credit for! Let him surprise you.

:: Bringing Stuff ::

Less is More: You're going to be bringing a lot more stuff when you start traveling with a baby. But try to restrain your inclination to bring EVERYTHING WHO KNOWS WHAT COULD HAPPEN!? If you won't definitely need it and you can easily buy it where you're going, leave it at home. Sure, your baby might start teething while you're gone - but can't you just buy some baby medicine if that happens? The first time we traveled, we brought tons of his toys, the second time? A small tote full.

Think it Out:  What do you need for each part of his day at home? To sleep, we bring Gabe his seahorse, his sound machine, and a Boppy pillow. Sure, it seems like a lot, but it makes bedtime SO MUCH EASIER when his familiar things are there. When we went to the beach, I thought ahead and brought our little camping tent to corral Gabe in on the beach (and off the beach, as it turned out). Thinking through what you'll be doing helps you narrow down what to bring, instead of bringing tons of stuff that you won't end up needing (liiike, lots of fancy clothes on a beach vacation where you live in shorts and tank tops 24/7) (Want more inspiration for packing lightly? This.)

:: Sleeping ::

Flexible Sleeping Arrangements: Sometimes we all shared a bed. Sometimes Gabe and I shared a bed while Mike slept in the other. Sometimes Gabe slept on the floor. Sometimes Gabe slept in a Pack-n-Play.  Many times Gabe slept in his stroller. Lots of times Gabe slept in his car seat while we drove.

In a Hotel: Sleeping all in room (with nowhere else to go) poses a challenge. We went to bed at the same time - around 9:30 or 10, a little earlier than we're used to, a little later than Gabe is used to. Otherwise, we'd have had to get an extra room and put Gabe in it ($$!) or sit awake in the dark after he goes to bed. Not so much.

Naps: Depending on the nature of your travel, your baby may get normal naps or may nap in his stroller. At the beach house, Gabe was able to take a solid nap or two a day in his Pack-n-Play. In NYC, he napped in his stroller off and on. He was fine either way - as long as he got roughly the same amount of sleep each day. We did not really plan around naps, because Gabe is flexible and usually naps whenever and where ever. You might not know till you try!

:: Eating ::

Nursing: I finally conquered my fear of nursing in public in Central Park - I just...had to nurse Gabe and had nowhere to do it. I also nursed in a tea shop, on park benches, lots of times in the front seat of the car, and in more bathrooms than I care to admit. He's at an exceptionally distractible stage, now, so he pretty much needs to not see or hear anything to be able to nurse.

Solids: We brought a jar or two of baby food for while driving, and some baby snacks (these are Gabe's favorite of all time), but we largely fed Gabe what we ate, in slightly mashed form. It is far easier than packing along a dozen jars of baby food. 

Eating Out: We do this fairly regularly at home, so eating out while traveling is really no different. In fact, I'm not sure what to even say about it, except...it's like eating out alone, just your baby is in a highchair next to you. Move everything so he can't grab it off the table. Ask for a spoon or some chopsticks for the baby to play with. You can bring toys if you want to, but I usually forget to and just give him a menu or keys or something to play with. Babies aren't picky. Give the baby some of your food. C'est tout.

:: Pooping ::

Cloth Diapering: If we'll have access to a washer and dryer, we cloth diaper while traveling. Gabe has only blessed us with blow outs when he's in disposables, so that's incentive enough! As is saving money. We love to not have to buy diapers. Cloth swim diapers are also the way to go!

Diaper Changes: Again, prepare to be flexible. Many, many bathrooms in New York City did not have changing tables. Many, many bathrooms in other places we went did not having changing tables. At one restaurant, the waitress told me I could change him on a bench where other customers were waiting. I was afraid of getting Looks, but I just did it and avoided their gazes. We also did our fair share of diaper changes on top of the trunk or in the front seat. Not easy to navigate in such tight quarters, but it works. Parks are where it's at when changing diapers in a public space.

:: Traveling ::

Road trip! 99% of the time, one of us sat in the back with Gabe while the other drove - it made Gabe far happier when we could meet his needs and keep him company during trips. We could play with him, feed him some snacks, and help him fall asleep if he was overtired.

Public Transit: Gabe has been on buses in our city, as well as lots of subways in NYC. I mentioned before that he absolutely loved it.  And we did, too! It was easy to travel on public transportation with a baby and we got to play with him instead of worry about driving. Plus, people were REALLY NICE to us because we had a baby. Sometimes we brought his stroller on (this is what most locals seemed to do), but most of the time we held him and packed up his stroller until we got downtown and wanted to walk around.

:: And, ALSO ::

Time Alone:  If you're traveling with lots of family members, it's awesome because they'll want to play with your baby. But it can also be tiring to have no alone time with your little family. Be sure to get out a few times for a walk, a trip to the grocery store, or out to dinner with just your little family. For your own sanity. And your baby will probably appreciate it, too. 

Baby-Proofing=Your Eyes: Chances are, you won't be able to make your hotel room/beach house/in-laws' house completely baby-proof. This will require lots of watching your baby, then taking a photo when he does this:

Seriously, though, I completely underestimated how hanging out with a baby in a hotel room would involve not wanting him to crawl on the floor ew gross. I did let him crawl in the tub a little when I was going to the bathroom, though. You gotta get creative, am I right?  

Sand Ahoy! It will happen. Gabe would put some in his mouth, then try to wipe the taste off his tongue, getting more sand in his mouth, resulting in this face: 

Keeping him in a tent some of the time helped, so he could be in the shade and out of reach of shells and driftwood, which he liked to try and eat. Or, you know, crawl with: 

  

You'll note that our child has not been on a plane and is not a toddler. Both of those things terrify me. Of course, my friend Kelly took her daughter all the way to SOUTH AFRICA when she was, like, seven months old. She is basically Super Mom. Also, check out Ginger's helpful post about traveling with little ones!

Anything to add, traveling mamas? Any questions?

Somewhere Between an SUV and a Smart Car.

Mommy Blogger Alert: An entire post about stroller. You've been warned. Proceed with caution.

Internet, I know you. I know you are smart and interesting and full of opinions and experiences. And I know you are helpful and stuff.  

So, I come before you today and ask for your assistance in finding a new stroller. 

See, we have two strollers and neither one is perfect for us. We have a big huge stroller which is clunky but comfy for Gabe and a tiny light stroller which is bare bones umbrella stroller. 

Big huge comfy stroller:

The bad part is, it takes up our entire trunk and is super heavy. Plus, it has a MAMMOTH footprint. I feel like I'm taking over the sidewalk/coffee shop/doorway/room when I use this thing.

Most of the time, we use our little umbrella stroller and clip our awesome diaper bag on the back. It's easy to carry and small enough to not feel like the Mom with the Giant Stroller.

Itty bitty umbrella stroller:

The bad part is: there is no storage at all, the sun shade is pathetic, and it doesn't recline (reclining is awesome when Gabe falls asleep on a walk...I can sometimes squeeze a nap out of him if I play my cards right.). Also, Mike can't push this without hunching over. (Look at me, including my husband's needs in my evaluation of a stroller. It's so selfless! And considerate!)

Since we didn't buy either of these strollers (hand-me-down and gift yay!), I've decided that we if we can find our perfect stroller, we'll splurge and buy one.

Wanted: 
- less than $100...okay, $150 (big spenderrrs)
- cup holders (allowing for caffeine containment)
- not heavy or unwieldy (allowing for my pathetic upper body strength)
- reclining seat
- basket storage (I have books to get from the library and a vegetables from the farmer's market, like a good little hippie yuppie.)
- tall enough for Mike (he also adds, "I should be able to throw it 20 feet." Mmm kay.)
- legit sunshade

So basically the pros of both our strollers with none of the cons. Not unreasonable at all, right?

If you're reading this and think, Oh! My stroller sounds like that! Please PLEASE tell me. Please.

If you're reading this and think, Oh! I have a lot of time at work and nothing to do! Perhaps I shall scour the internet and read reviews. Please. Please do.

Just June.

This is my life. The ukulele is a staple in it right now.

We've begun to settle into a routine of sorts this summer. Our days start with coffee and breakfast together (around the table - we're doing an experiment where we don't eat on the couch....that's the whole experiment: eat like civilized people), followed by a few hours of designing and answering emails while Gabe practices walking around the edge of everything he can get his chubby little hands on.

My work station: MacBook, chalkboard, coffee, and juice water. And, yes, I need a more sophisticated way to keep track of clients. Suggestions? (I have a spreadsheet, too. I'm not completely inept.)

I am home for two entire months, and Mike only works in the afternoons four days a week - this means we get a lot of family time. And I get a lot of time to work. My design work is really bustling and keeping me on my toes. I also had a photo shoot last weekend (squee!) and I was even able to finagle some sewing time this week. I don't know whose idea it was to put my entire sewing machine/fabric/crafty bits in Gabe's room, but it makes it difficult to sew during nap time. 

Sweet, sweet success.

I also updated my Etsy shop with all kinds of earrings and coasters and reusable coffee sleeves. It's been so quiet for many months, so I'm hoping to breathe some life into it. (Have I mentioned that getting things done with a baby is challenging? Oh, just yesterday? Okay, then.)

I packed away more of Gabe's clothes - and realized he has more hoodies that currently fit him than I do. What can I say? I love a baby with a hood.

This is a *3T* Snoopy hoodie we snagged from the thrift store. It's my favorite thing in existence.

We finally bathed our child for the first time in ages. Bathing babies daily is overrated - it's like with clothes, no need to wash unless they're visably dirty, am I right? (I'm not right? I'm just gross and an awful mother? Well.) Giving him a bath has gone from a pain to an-activity-that-keeps-him-busy-and-I-can-read-Bossypants-in-the-bathroom. I think there will be more baths in our future.

We also started a garden, which, judging from our history, is likely to end up in dead plant nubbins. Only time will tell.

Gabe hamming it up at the apartment community garden.

I finally took a few photos with the nine month stickers and just couldn't help but share this face:

Because, really.

If I were a kid, I'd probably call this summer 'boring.'

But as an adult? It's pretty wonderful.

And now I think we'll go for a long walk with my boys and pick up this book from the library.

Gabriel Goes to the Beach.

When I was growing up, my family took yearly trips to were to the beach with my extended family. I looked forward to sharing a giant beach house with a dozen aunts, uncles, siblings, parents, and grandparents. I looked forward to spending hours learning how to make friendship bracelets from my aunts. I looked forward to packing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to take to the beach each morning. I looked forward to eating those tiny boxes of cereal for breakfast. II even looked forward to getting a pound of sand in my bathing suit from sitting at the edge of the shore.

I still love the ocean.

I love the sound of the crashing waves. I love the heat that radiates from the clear skies. I love digging my feet into the sand while I read book after book at the beach. I love the expansiveness. I love how life is slower and days are longer and there is nothing my to do list but reading and relaxing.

I spent a semester in Hawaii my sophomore year of college (rough life, right?). I worked at an ice cream shop on Waikiki Beach and during my breaks, I'd go to the pier and lie down on the wooden planks, soaking up the sounds of the crashing waves. The ocean soothes me.

Except when there's a baby at the beach. (And also, baby aside? I am becoming my father because I JUST CAN'T STAND THE SAND. It's EVERYWHERE.)

It was a lot of fun, but certainly not quite relaxing: sand-coated baby crawling around on the beach trying to eat seashells. He had a love-hate relationship with the ocean, as well.

I contemplated writing a post about how to go to the beach with a baby or a post about cloth diapering on vacation (including cloth swim diapers). But in the end, I decided to go with the photos. Because, really, don't you love being forced to look at someone else's vacation photos?

Here, LOOK: *shoves photos in your face*

My little Gabriel.

The beach corral (our camping tent), cousins, and a tiny banana for a tiny baby. :)

Tie-dying fun. And chalk art.

The beach is tiring for my little man. :)

He loved running towards the ocean. And away from it. Kid just thinks he can run.

Gabe's cousins.

Mama and Papa time. Melty heart.

Oh my word. The way he looks at his papa...

Apartment, Sweet Apartment.

My, oh my.

We are finally home from nearly three weeks away from our little apartment and I am elated.

I looked back at the post from a month ago when we first went on a little vacation, and laughed. We spent ONE night in a hotel. ONE. And I was all, "We're flexible! Yippee! But glad to be back home." Ha. HAHAHAHA. 

Three weeks of changed routine later...I think now I can legit say that.

What has happened in the last three-ish weeks?

- We went to Asheville, North Carolina and I lost my wallet for the first time. Which I told you already. Gabe went swimming for the first time, we ate a lot of food, and saw friends.

- We went to the beach in South Carolina and stayed in a beach house with eleven other family members. I have yet to tell you about this -but Gabe experienced sand, the ocean, and tie-dye.

- We house-and-cat-sat for my parents. Giant house all to ourselves. Fun times, aside for the scary, lots-of-places-for-murderers-to-hide business.
 
- Gabe started to become a Very Mobile Baby. Life has changed, friends. He's constantly pulling up on everything, walking while he holds on to the couch or coffee table, and giving us a run for our money. We dropped his crib mattress down, too. We haven't done much in the way of baby-proofing yet, but I think we're going to have to re-arrange our living room to accomdate Mr. Curious and Mobile. No more Mr. Lump who lies around happily.

- Summer arrived. Three weeks ago, it was cold and my summer clothes were still packed away. Now, I'm in Tevas, shorts, and tank tops. Whee! Time to pack away the sweaters.

- Baby's first baseball game. We went to an Indians game, and Gabe was in the newspaper (front page!) the next day. Baby WIN.

- I bought a super fancy new lens. Like, SUPER FANCY. I can't believe I spent this much on it, but it all came from profits from Etsy and my design work. I am serious about becoming a portraiture photographer, and it's time to put my money where my mouth it. (Also, this lens weighs 20 pounds, so I should get more buff. BONUS.)

- Gabe is 9 months old. Also: 40 weeks old, so he's been out longer than he was a fetus.

- 3 weeks of erratic bedtimes. Ready to get back to Gabe going to bed EARLY. I need it for my sanity, my businesses, and my marriage. Amen.

And, now, I'm staring down the happy circumstance of having two entire months off for the first time since high school (aside from my two-month maternity leave, because, well, that doesn't COUNT.) I have high hopes for this summer, namely: more simplifying (only driving our car three days a week...eep!), business scheming, photographing, and designing, blogging (and open up advertising opportunities), and gardening (community garden at the apartment!)/farmer's marketing, and cooking. And plenty of time with my two favorite boys, of course. Mmm, summer.

The Entirely-Too-Long Breastfeeding Post.

The following is a post documenting my experiences with breastfeeding. It includes words like 'boobs' and 'nipples.' It’s certainly not meant to make those who weren’t able to, or chose not to, breastfeed feel guilty – I just wanted to finally share the first eight months of this journey in its entirety.

When I shared Gabriel’s birth story last fall, I briefly mentioned that he nursed shortly after he was born. What I glossed over, though, was that it wasn’t as easy or as intuitive or as beautiful as I’d been told it would be. The books I’d read, our childbirth instructor, and the breastfeeding class we took, all promised us that if the birth was unmedicated, the baby wasn’t bathed immediately, and the mother was able to hold the baby without delay – the baby could find the breast itself! The baby would latch on right away! Sunshine! Rainbows! Happy nursing! So natural!

Um, no.

What did happen: I got meconium (newborn poop) on my boob (full of post-birth endorphins, I happily chirped to my labor nurse, “I feel like a real mom now!”) and Gabe had zero interest in nursing. He didn’t latch on and he didn’t do anything except stare at me wide-eyed. So I just held his little body against mine for an hour, basking in the feeling of holding the one I’d felt inside of me for months. Basking in an indescribable love and newness and so much happiness I can’t even encapsulate it in words. It’s this rising feeling I get in my heart when I think about holding my fresh, new baby close to me, cradling his little body for the first time and gazing into each other’s eyes.

Getting swept up in the moment here. Ahem. Sorry about that.

After a while, the post-birth hormones waned and a wall of tiredness slammed into me. We both went to sleep. After all, it was 4 am, preceded by 24 hours of labor, including two and a half HOURS OF PUSHING (I’m not bitter at all about that anymore. Nope.). In the back of my mind, I was a bit concerned that he didn't really care about nursing, but brushed it off, since I was exhausted.

The next day, I attempted to nurse Gabe a few more times, but it just felt off. He didn’t really latch on well and when he did latch on, he sucked away like a little barracuda. (Mike had several hickeys on his biceps from Gabe.) I had no idea what I was doing. I was lost and a bit confused. And fairly concerned the first day or two would get totally screwed up by my lack of ability to figure out how cram the baby onto the boob.

Then, while my parents were visiting, the lactation consultant, Penny, came to see us (and with a mere, “Are you experiencing any nipple soreness?” had my dad ushering my family out of the room). She tested Gabe’s sucking reflexes, and determined that he was a 'vigorous sucker' but dealt with an 'uncoordinated sucking reflex'. (Basically: once he's got latched on, he'd suck like crazy, but so frantically that he didn't latch well.) Upon hearing that I was, indeed, experiencing major soreness, she toyed with the idea of introducing a shield or having me pump, but decided against it. She watched us nurse, had us try some different holds, and told us to aim for 30 minutes. I couldn’t get him to go more than three minutes, and was so, so defeated.

Although things weren’t perfect, Penny was amazing. She empowered us and I trusted her information. Since Gabe wasn’t keen on nursing, she showed me how to hand-express colostrum onto a spoon and feed him with it. She explained that recent studies showed that hand-expression led to my milk coming in more quickly. She showed us the best holds for newborns. She told us how to flip Gabe's bottom lip under to get a wider latch. She gave us a pile of papers filled with information.

We left the hospital 36 hours after Gabriel was born, eager to take him home. I was excited to leave; giddy about putting his impossible tiny hospital t-shirt (“I got my first hug at Lakewood hospital”) on his wee body and buckling him into his car seat. We drove the hour home in the sunshine, listening to lullabies.

Being at home with our new baby was wonderful, but the nursing thing was still so painful and I worried. Without a lactation consultant coming by several times a day, I cried to Mike that we should have stayed longer. That I needed help from Penny. That I worried. About how Gabe's shallow latch would destroy my nipples FOREVER. About whether it was a problem that he never wanted to nurse for more than ten minutes, but was usually done after five. About whether I'd ever be able to wear a shirt again. About why the heck it hurt SO MUCH when everyone told me it was painless unless something was wrong.

I felt lost. It was so much more difficult and less intuitive than I expected. And overwhelming! Not only do I have to recover from a super-intense, painful event; I have to learn how to take care of a teeny tiny baby; I also have to learn how to feed a baby with my freaking body!?

I felt so alone and desperately wanted to call one of my aunts and ask them desperately, “Is it supposed to be this hard?” but worried they’d say, “No” and I’d be incredibly discouraged. I wonder if I'd have survived without the internet. Both Twitter and the Mothering.com forum boards were so helpful. I'd be in tears, frustrated and worried and in pain, and lightly say something about how hard nursing is. The responses usually made me burst into tears because they were so sweet. (Also because of The Hormones. Woah.) I'll always remember when Michelle told me that the first few weeks are challenging. And then Sarah said that the first month or two is hardest. First, why had NO ONE else mentioned this when I was planning to breastfeed? Second, A FEW WEEKS!? Seemed like an eternity. But, telling myself that my boobs would eventually stop making me cry gave me hope.

We went to the lactation consultant at the hospital when Gabe was eight days old (they usually do one home visit after the birth - but we lived too far from hospital to get in on that), and she was, again, wonderful. She affirmed us, she settled all of my worries, and even told me I didn't look like I had just had a baby. Good news, all around. I left that office thinking I'd actually be able to stick with this whole breastfeeding thing. I still worried and I was still sore when Gabe latched on for quite a few weeks (though I stopped crying every time he did so after two weeks), but I was encouraged. This will happen. I will be a nursing mom like I'd always wanted.

Remembering those first few weeks is still painful - how much uncertainty and pain I experienced. I've been nursing Gabe for 36 weeks, and I am amazed by that. Amazed because 36 weeks ago, a 'few weeks' sounded like an absolute eternity.

I had everything going for me, and it was still so challenging. I had a vaginal birth (with no epidural); Gabe was born at 40 weeks; I held him immediately after he was born and attempted nursing within an hour; my husband is ridiculously supportive; and my milk started to come in after two days. I have so much respect for women who deal with greater odds and fight like crazy and do ‘crazy’ things in order to make it work; like Tam, whose baby didn't latch on his own for ELEVEN WEEKS. Or Erin, who pumped full-time for TWINS for 6.5 months. I'm not sure I could have been able to fight that hard, wrestling with supplemental nursing systems and hospital-grade breast pumps.

Eight months later, I actually really, really enjoy nursing. I love the convenience, I love the connection I feel to Gabe, and I love the surge of happy hormones that are released when Gabe is nursing. And: I love that I get 500 extra calories a day with which to stuff my body. Sure, I don’t love the pumping when I work (or waking up 4:20 am in order to have time to pump before work when Gabe was two-months-old). And sometimes it’d be nice to spend the night away from Gabe (or maybe not, I am way attached to the kid). And, yes, I am scared for what my body will look like after nursing. But, mostly? I’m thrilled that it worked out for us.

Despite the fact that nursing is ridiculously convenient, I am a total and complete wimp about nursing Gabe in public. I’ve heard quite a few guys I know make comments about being ‘grossed out’ by the idea of breastfeeding; which, of course, makes me totally self-conscious about even nursing with a nursing cover around others. (I don’t understand my own reasoning, you guys. A nursing cover means there is one MORE layer over my boobs than usual.)

I am surrounded by women who nurse wherever they happen to be – talking to their brother, sitting next to their dad, or in a room of toddlers playing. I love seeing moms nurse in public; I think it’s totally badass and not at all inappropriate or weird. But still, I am a wimp. I’ll nurse around my mom, sisters, little kids, and aunts, but anyone else? No way. I’ve nursed in far more bathrooms than I’m comfortable admitting, which wouldn’t be that gross if there were a chair in the bathroom, but sitting on a toilet while feeding your child? Just seems wrong.

I’ve nursed in public twice (not counting a billion times in my car in parking lots): on campus last weekend and while on hike the weekend before. No one came by either time, but I’m still counting it. Baby steps, right? I still felt pretty awesome.

Nursing on a hike. :) Brave, right? Except no one was around.

This weekend we’re going to New York City, and I’m thinking this might be my big debut of actually nursing in public. I mean, I know hardly anyone there. And there are much more interesting things to look at than a mom nursing her baby, right? No one will even notice Wish me luck!

Eight Months.

He: 
 

- has changed and grown and developed so much this month.

- is  around 20 pounds and 28 inches long. He's officially tripled his birth weight!

- can pull a five pound weight toward himself. That's nearly a fourth of his weight. He's like a little ant baby. (See also: pulling every cord out of every electric outlet he can get to. That's safe, right?)

- is quite entertaining – he shakes his head no, blinks when we clap, and gives us kisses. Last month, I mentioned his new penchant for attacking us with his mouth wide open. He grabs our face with both hands, pulls us towards him, and gives us a nice, slobbery kiss. And then my heart explodes.

- loves himself. Looking at himself in the mirror, on Photo Booth, and in videos.

- (speaking of videos) does this adorable thing where he shakes his head whenever we play music:

Techno Baby. from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.
How awesome is that?

- prefers standing to sitting and thinks he can walk. See?

Gabe Takes a Walk. from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

- has figured out cause and effect. Pull on the cord, the toy comes closer. Hit the toy, the mirror spins. Bang the spoon on the bowl, it makes noise.The only one he hasn't figured out is throw this toy, can't reach it. It's fun for all!

- has mastered the scoot. It looks like the worm: push up, flop down, push forward, repeat. He scoots down the hall to the bathroom when I'm in there. He scoots out of our bedroom while I'm getting dressed. And he scoots over to Mike's guitars constantly.

- really likes books, particularly touch-and-feel books. He also enjoys eating paper.

- likes to pull his own hair. Little crazy baby. Maybe he thinks it's a touch-and-feel book.

- has a favorite toy: a wooden spoon. He's a big fan of all sorts of spoons, really, and we even found one in bed with him once. He's also a big fan of guitars, and he has a little ukulele of his own.

- has been on a fussy kick lately, and I am not a fan. I keep thinking he's bored. Is that weird? Perhaps he's teething. Or beginning to experience separation anxiety. Or just hastes his mother. I DON'T KNOW. (Also: has stopped napping for two hours at a time. Happiness! All around!)

- can take baths in the bathtub now - no more baby tub for this kid. Watch out, world.

- figured out how to go from sitting to crawling, so combined with the worm - he's basically mobile. Crap.

I:

- have been working out daily, and it feels amazing. It feels amazing to sweat, to wear something I can't nurse in (for once), and to work hard at something and accomplish it. Oddly, after giving birth, I seem to be able to push myself to run farther, lunge deeper, and try harder than I have before while working out. Perhaps I'll be able to push myself to run a half marathon this fall?

- booked our first family vacation to Asheville in three weeks! First hotel stay with Gabe. First road trip (more than the 2.5 hours to Mike's parents) with Gabe. I'm nervous, but also so, so excited. Last summer, we couldn't do much traveling since I was fairly pregnant, so we're planning to do as much as possible this summer. Whee!

- haven't done any 'baby proofing,' and am not really sure what this entails since we'll just move stuff out of his reach (like...all the crap on the kitchen floor he keeps trying to eat) and it's not like he'll be in the other room playing while we work. We don't have stairs and the kitchen cabinets are retro metal cabinets that I can't even open them easily.  I haven't thought about it much until now...thoughts?

- am realizing more and more that I cannot compare him to other babies, and that no parent feels 100% confident in themselves. We're all just trying to not screw up our kids too badly, and are worrying about their weight gain/hitting milestones/sleeping. Anyone who's figured it all out? Is probably bluffing. 

The Worm: Step 1

The Worm: Step 2

Touch-and-feel goodness.

Hooded towels are serious business.

What? Just chillin' with my sippy.

Answering More Questions: On Starbucks Drinks, Teething, and Surprise Babies.

These are only, oh, three months after you asked me these questions. Oops.

How many pumps of syrup are in Starbucks drinks? Someone in line behind me got a 14 pump drink, which seemed crazy...but then I realized I had no idea how much was in mine!

Woah. That *is* crazy. Since I am a total coffee nerd, I made a little chart for Starbucks drinks:

(This doesn't apply to macchiatos - they get one less pump of syrup)

SO, as you can see 14 pumps is A LOT of pumps. If you get, say, an iced venti caramel white chocolate mocha, though, there would be typically six pumps of each white mocha and caramel - which is 12 and almost hits that crazy 14 pump orderer. Almost.

Are you still on board with the baking soda & vinegar hair care routine?

I am! Although about once a month, I do a shampoo wash, mostly just because there is still a bottle in my shower. It's probably a bad idea, since I know the 'no poo'  is all about natural oils and not stripping the oils and all that earth mama jazz. (When you first heard the term 'no poo,' did you also thing it was a movement about not pooping? Or is that just me. Oh. Just me? Okay.)

I know this is a little weird to ask, but was Gabe a "planned" pregnancy? How long were you together before you became pregnant with Gabe?

Not weird at all! (Or maybe I'm the weird one for telling everyone.) I am fairly open about the fact that Gabe was the best surprise we ever got. We were married almost two-and-a-half years when I found out I was pregnant. Gabe was born three weeks after our third anniversary. It was the perfect amount of time for us - we had several years to just be 'us'.  While it was initially a bit of shock (I  actually cried the first few times I told people) (though I blame pregnancy hormones in addition to being happy-slash-scared), there are far worse things than finding out you're expecting a child with your husband of three years.

Has anyone ever recognized you in real life from reading your blog?

Yes! Just a few times and it's the craziest, most awesome thing.  It always throws me off, like What? Me? Is this a joke? I suddenly get nervous for some reason. It's fun. Most recently at a vegan bake sale to raise money for Japan, a lovely gal named Abby recognized me (and knew Gabe's name!). Vegan bake sale? Let's be friends, Abby!

So all that teething stuff you bought for Gabe- what's working out well and what was a bust?

So. Two months ago (Though it was so awful it feels like yesterday. Every time Gabe gets fussy or has trouble sleeping, I get all panicky: 'Teething Round Two is coming! The end is nigh! Run! Run for your lives!"), Gabe cut his first two teeth and it. was. awful. He was grumpy all day and would wake up four times in three hours, screaming. This kid is usually not a scream-waker-upper. He is a lie-quietly-then-yell-when-you-realize-you're-alone-waker-upper. 

After one particularly awful night, I bought a ton of different things in hopes that something anything dear GOD would make it stop. I bought: Sophie the giraffe, a Smart Mom Teething Bling necklace, an amber necklace,  and homeopathic teething drops in addition to infant acetaminophen and ibuprofen. I also got Orajel Naturals for a review program and Hyland's Teething Tablets from Natali.

Nothing was that great. Sophie is a squeaky dog toy that smells like a rubber balloon and costs $20. I wanted to love the amber necklace, but for $25, it didn't seem to do much. The teething bling necklace was probably my favorite since I can still wear it and he loves to chew on it. Most nights, we gave him some ibuprofen, numbed his gums with the Orajel, and popped two Hyland's tablets. The Orajel numbed him quickly, then the ibuprofen gave him a few hours of relief. And the Hyland's tablets were just fun to watch dissolve. Of course, take all of this with a grain of salt, since Gabe only has two teeth. And I hear kids usually get more than that, so we'll be putting these toys to the test once more. Or twice more. But no more than twice more. That's enough teeth for one baby.

And I just wrote three paragraphs about teething merchandise. Oh dear.

[If I didn't answer your question, email me. For real. It was probably just a wee bit too personal to share on the world wide webs, but I am a very open person behind closed door. Or email inbox.)

Having a Baby is JUST SO MUCH FUN.

And I'm not even being sarcastic!

It really is. I mean, our days were awesome before, but they are just filled with So Much More Joy now. And laughter! Oh, the laughter. It's fun, guys.

I was drafting a post about the politics of motherhood, then one about my experience with breastfeeding, then one about my efforts towards minimalism (with photos!) then I stopped and realized I was in no mood to be introspective or even a little bit serious.

Plus, I was gone the whole weekend and I have work tomorrow and I have about a bajillion design projects going on (woo!) - so I'm spending the evening cooking for the week and starting level three instead. (LEVEL THREE AHHHHHH.) (Jillian Michaels tells me those abs don't come for free, you know.) (But I don't have two-thirds of Anita's abs, yet, and I'm not holding my breath for them to emerge in the next ten days.) (The chocolate chips and Chipotle probably aren't helping.)

Instead, I decided to share some of my goofball child in action: 

"Gabe never blinks!"

"He does when I clap my hands. See?"

Blinky McBlinkerson. from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

(Does this count as torture?)

And also, WHAT A CRAZY BABY:

Crazy Gabe from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

(Why, yes, he did face-plant. And then proceeded to do so over and over again.)

He's a little goofball.

My little goofball.

:)

Scenes from a Quiet Weekend.

. . .

I hear Gabe stirring, but ignore him because I am so tired that I'm certain my eyelids are too heavy to open.
I hear Mike talk to him, and Gabe lets out a delighted squeal. 
Mike gets out of bed; he comes back and he talks to Gabe as he changes his diaper. Gabe responds happily with gurgles and giggles.
I bury my head deeper in my wonderful, soft pillow, hoping to avoid waking completely. Trying to cling on to this lovely, sleepy place.

. . .

I set Gabe down on the carpet in the living room to pour myself some Cheerios and a cup of coffee in kitchen.
I take two steps and he is whining.
I groan, but then catch myself and remember how quickly he will grow out of this stage. How quickly he will no longer be a little baby who wants nothing more than to be held by his mama.
I scoop him up and plop him on my hip. I get my breakfast one-handed.

. . .

Gabe sits on the carpet while I work.
His toys bore him, or more likely, he's thrown them all out of his reach.
He whines, so I turn around and make some silly faces.
He smiles.
I turn back around and continue working.
He whines.
A game of peekaboo commences.

. . .


 

. . .

We sit in Gabe's quiet, dark room. The ocean waves are crashing on his sound machine.
I nurse Gabe, then rock him, cradling his little body close to mine.
He buries his head in my arm and relaxes.
We rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I play Words with Friends on my iPod while the seahorse plays its lullabies.
I remind myself to recharge the seahorse's batteries. It sounds like a dying cat, but Gabe doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are closed and his long eyelashes kiss his round cheeks.
I place Gabe in his crib and sneak out of his room.

. . .

I design. And design. And design some more.
I return client emails. I find new color combinations. I download some brushes for inspiration.
"I've been so productive today!" I say.
"I so have not!" he says.

. . . 

Mike and I have a date with Jillian Michaels.
He makes me laugh while we do jumping jacks, crunches, and push ups.
He kicks my butt, literally, during butt kicks. How predictable.
We give each other a sweaty high-five for completing day eight of the 30 Day Shred.

. . .

 

. . . 

The afternoon is amazing.
The weather is so delicious I want to eat it with a spoon.
I want to stay outside forever.
I want to marry spring and have its babies.
Instead, we walk. And walk. And walk.
And walk some more.
We talk about our summer. About our hopes. About our summer goals. About where we want to go and what we want to read. About sno-cones and street fairs.
"What's your summer mission statement?"
Surprisingly, he doesn't laugh at the question.
He must know he's married a dork.

. . .


Gabe is awake from a nap, crying.
I walk into his room and he stops crying when he hears my voice.
His face lights up and I lift him out of his crib, squeezing him close to me.
I kiss his tiny little lips, my favorite.
Even two hours away from me makes me miss him.
It's so silly and, yet, so true.

. . .

We make taco bowls for lunch.  
Gabe eats a grain of rice at a time, or the tiniest forkful of refried beans.
He leans forward with an open mouth like a baby bird.

. . .

 . . .

He sits on the couch next to me and wraps his arms around me.
I hug him back and rest my head on his shoulder.
Gabe looks at us and start whining.
"Aw, Gabe. Do you want a hug, too?"
We go over together, each pick him up by one arm and carry him back to the couch.
We hug. All three of us. Corny and silly and lovely.
Gabe whines again and twists away.

. . .

He's fussing.
"Milk? You want milk? Are you hungry?"
He nurses lazily, rubbing his feet together, running his hand up and down my arm.
I can't tell if he's hungry or just wants to cuddle.
I always indulge him.

. . .

We get take out from a restaurant in our neighborhood. Veggie burgers and sweet potato fries.
After Gabe is asleep, we eat our dinner on the couch with lots ketchup and watch a movie on Netflix.
I type away on my laptop and Mike reads the news on his.

. . . 

. . .

I realize my quiet life is rather wonderful and don't want to forget this.