Frazzled?!

I've been telling people lately that I've been frazzled. Everyone responds, "You mean you can't live up to your perfect standards?" I then ask them to look around --home, office, car-- and I say, "Do you think I'm aiming for perfection here?" Now I have a stellar example to demonstrate my current state of mind.

Before Shreyas was born, I committed to present at a Higher Education conference in Vancouver in November. We knew he'd be around 5 months so we decided to make it a family trip. We got his passport in the summer, researched flights, booked the hotel. Then we promptly forgot everything. All we knew was that we were leaving very early Thursday morning.

Fast forward to last Wednesday. I'm going into work and I have to 1) call the hotel to request a crib, and 2) check in for our flight since it's within 24 hours. I take care of #1. But I can't seem to find our flight. I check my personal email, my work email, our joint email: nothing. I find an email I sent to a friend Sept 23 saying, "Just bought our tix. See you in Vancouver!" I text my husband. He says we're flying Alaska. I text him again, saying it must be in his email. I go to Alaska's website. I don't have a confirmation number, but you can look up your flight by credit card; I try all three of my credit cards and nothing comes up. I am sure that my husband purchased the flights so I text him again, asking him to try his card online and see if it works. I then call Alaska and am on hold...forever...It's 6pm, time to teach, so I hang up and go. Our flight is only 12 hours away.

I'm driving home and my husband calls with the news: there is no record of our flight. We never purchased a flight! I get home, we discuss, he's found a new flight that's better (nonstop!) and worse (from LAX) but will get me there in time. Miraculously, it's about the same price as our original flight. We book it --for sure this time-- and finally get to bed around midnight.

No, the story is not even close to over.

I wake up before the alarm and prod my hubby awake, saying it's 5:57 and we might as well get up. I walk to the shower, turn it on, my husband's out of bed, looking at the clock. It's 4:58. Oops. I turn off the shower. We get back into bed. He asks, "Should we just get up and go now?" I answer, "What are we going to do there for an extra hour?" We talk. We can't sleep. It's 5:30 so we get up anyway. We had planned to leave by 6:30. Of course we leave late. It takes us an hour to get there. I am stressed the whole way because I need to make this flight. My husband is calm. He says it's no problem. I suggest parking at the airport instead of long term parking. My husband insists we are OK with time -he's already checked in, we just have to drop our bags. We finally get to the counter at 8:15 for our 9am flight. The lady at the counter coos at our baby. She's relaxed. We are calming down. We ask if we are OK with time and she realizes we are there for the 9am flight. Only then, when she tells us, do we realize: We are flying internationally.

Yes, we knew this. Of course we did! We got a passport for the baby! But now our bags cannot make the flight and we can't fly without our bags (FAA regulations!). The next flight gets in at 4pm but my presentation, the whole reason we're going on this trip, is at 1pm. My husband suggests I go ahead, without him, bags, or baby and he'll bring it all with him on the next flight. We realize he has no milk for the baby. He says he can drive back to Irvine, pick up some milk, make it back in time for the flight and meet me in Vancouver. We have a quick decision to make. So what do I do? I say, "I'll take the baby." How will I do my presentation? Who knows. But if I'm going to Canada, my baby's coming with me.

I'm not sure at this point if I'll even make the flight. Security won't let me up the escalators with the stroller. They say to take the elevators. The elevators only go down. Turns out I can go downstairs and check in with the stroller. I am running through the airport, pushing a stroller. The baby is laughing. He thinks it's a game. I'm thrilled because at least then I can laugh back so people around us don't think I'm a crazy mom running through the airport with my baby in his stroller about to miss my flight; they think I'm a caring fun mom who likes to play games with my baby, even in the airport. When we get to the gate they are paging us. We get on the flight. I text my husband that we made it. He reminds me that I have ONE friend attending this conference --maybe she can watch the baby? I text her a plea for help. And they close the gates.

Yes, baby and I made it to Canada just fine. Yes, my friend watched the baby for me. Yes, my husband and the bags made it on the next flight and we had a wonderful weekend in Vancouver. But there was lots more hilarity on the way. For example, I was wearing my coat because I knew it would be freezing when we landed, but the baby's warm clothes were all in his suitcase; when I realized his clothes were wet and he had to be changed out of PJs, I dressed him in the emergency clothes in his baby bag and put my fleece around him like a blanket. I had his warm hat with me so he was wearing: a short-sleeved onesie, pants, a bib, and a snow hat.

Yes, everything turned out ok. I thought about crying. But all I could do was laugh. This is my life.

Shower

I showered with Ava tonight. I used to do this a lot – well, actually all the time – when she was younger. She hated that crummy infant tub that got set up all alone on the counter and much preferred a little skin to skin contact in a warm shower with Mom or Dad. So that’s just what we did for about four months. However, with the acquisition of the skill of sitting, Ava has very much enjoyed a bubble bath complete with toys, splashing and laughing for the last month and a half. Yet, tonight we were running late on our already slightly late bed time of 8:30 to 9:00, so I decided just to jump in with her to make it quick. Which brings me to my point…

I COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW BIG SHE’D GOTTEN!! I mean really, I think she’s sprouted up in the last two months right before my eyes and I didn’t even realize it. She’s so long that when I hold her against me her head is well above my shoulders and her feel hit the top of my thighs! She looks like a little girl, not a baby.

So, I stood snuggling with my precious daughter and thinking that being a Mom really is the best. I can’t imagine ANYTHING more rewarding - albeit challenging - than spending everyday watching your own flesh and blood, the product of all the love you have with your husband, grow and learn and flourish. I’ll admit, though, that I have a hard time with the “grow” part. I keep wishing I could keep Ava little forever. I LOVED her newborn stage, when all she needed was to snuggle and nurse, and all I had to do was get to know her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for all the new stages, and things now are really fun. Seeing her laughing and knowing her name and reaching up for me and starting to crawl all over me… it’s the best. But there’s something bittersweet about all the growing because eventually she’ll grow away; grow into kindergarten and then middle school and then high school and then college (Ivy League, I’m sure J) and then off into a family of her own. It’s going to go so fast!

I think I’ve found the answer for all you Moms that might share my sentiments: JUST KEEP HAVING KIDS! (Laugh, laugh, smile, smile!) It did occur to me tonight, though, that I’m not sure if I’d ever be “done” having kids. I’m SURE my husband will be (I’ve got him firmly talked into three, but four is going to need some serous convincing!), but for me, I think that I’ll just never get enough.

Disney

It is no secret that I am a huge fan of everything Disney. My husband and I have annual passes and we love to go a few times each year. I don't have a ton of Disney paraphernalia but there are a few shirts, sweatshirts and trinkets around the house.

Brett's room is decorated in Winnie the Pooh. I have continued to look for Disney clothing for babies but it hardly exists. There is a new line of baby stuff that they are carrying at some of the Disney Store's but there is only Bambi items. Bambi is cute, but where is the Princess stuff? So, I bought a Bambi/Thumper blanket and pajamas for Brett and have been waiting patiently to purchase her some sort of Disney outfit.

I also bought her a Minnie Mouse Christmas outfit to wear on her first trip to Disneyland (scheduled for 12/18). Still, it wasn't exactly what I was looking for.

I am so happy to say that, being that she is almost in 12 month clothing, I purchased her first Disney shirt! It is pink and has the four princesses on it! I am so excited for her to wear it!

Well, that is all, I was just super excited about my purchase and wanted to share my excitement...

Steamroller into another stall

Today while we were out to lunch in San Juan Capistrano, at one of our favorite restaurant Sarducci's, Madison decided to take care of a little business! So I went to the restroom to change her, and I discovered there was no changing table. On a side note, I fully believe that every restaurant that has high chairs should have a changing table. Anyways, I was on my hands and knee's changing a yucky poopy diaper. As always in this lovely stage of 9 months, Madison is always on the roll. She does not stay put while I change her diaper. Today I was wrapping things up. I had changed her and was zipping up the diaper bag. In less than 5 seconds flat Madison rolled out of our stall and into the stall of the person next to me. Who was taking care of their business! I was humiliated. Madison being who she is looked up and smiled! Thank God the person just laughed, and I reached under and got her. But still. Changing tables are a necessity!

Baby Overboard!

Well, I wasn't going to post this but after sharing the story with a few moms, and realizing how often it happens, I figured I would go ahead and tell another story about poor-parenting skills. =)

Remember when your baby was first born (and for the first few months) you could put her down on the bed and walk away? You might lay her there and use the restroom. Or, you might lay her there and put clothes away. Whatever it was, you are confident that they baby would be exactly where you left her when you get back. You may even let her sleep on the bed long enough to shower.

Then, after a month or so, your baby starts scooting. I'm not really sure how they do it, but they scoot themselves around (very slowly) without purpose. So, if you lay your baby on the bed you put her in the middle and surround her with pillows, use the restroom, and come back. Again, the baby is pretty much where you left her. So, you can probably take a shower with the baby sleeping on the bed and be safe.

Around four months or so your baby learns to roll over and suddenly you have to be much more careful. If you leave your baby on the bed it will be for a much shorter period of time. If she is sleeping, there isn't major rolling going on so you may be safe to leave her on the bed for the amount of time it takes to run to the bathroom and pee.

So, around 7 months your baby starts crawling. Leaving the baby on the bed alone is really a no-no. If she is sleeping you may be able to walk away momentarily, but leaving the room is out of the question. That brings me to my story...

My husband travels quite a bit for business. One night, a few weeks ago, my husband was gone and Brett woke in the middle of the night. It was almost 1am. This is actually pretty rare these days so I was super tired. I had to pee but I went and picked her up because I figured I would just sway/rock her to sleep. She was crying, crying, crying. I held her and swayed/rocked her in her room. I rocked her in the rocking chair. I tried everything. She wouldn't go back to sleep and she was really unhappy. I brought her into bed with me. I nursed her. She was definitely teething and would be half-asleep but would thrash her head around and scoot herself all around. One hour goes by, two hours go by. I have to pee so bad! Finally, around 3:15am she falls asleep! I am laying there with her for about 15 minutes. During those 15 minutes she doesn't move at all. I figure it is safe for me to run to the bathroom... I put pillows around her and leave the room.

I decide I am going to go to the bathroom down the short hall so that the noise doesn't wake her up. I pee, flush, wash my hands. Then I decide to blow my nose (I guess I do this rather loudly). So, I throw my tissue in the trash and all of a sudden I hear THUMP and CRYING!

I go RUNNING back into my room and there is Brett on the floor! She is in a crawling position. I pick her up. I'm shaking- who do I call? My husband? The pediatrician? My parents? I try to call my husband but he is on a plane and I get voicemail. I decide not to call my mom because I think she will overreact. I kissing Brett, telling her I"m sorry, rocking her... I am lightly squeezing different body parts to see if she cries out at all. I look into her eyes to see if her pupils are dilated. I decide I will call my pediatrician. Just as a start to dial she stops crying. She looks into my eyes and, as if to say she is ok, she smiles.

I got back into my bedroom with her and turn on the light. The pillow I had put next to her fell off the bed first so it cushioned her landing. She had narrowly missed (by inches) the end table.

Brett started crawling around, smiling, etc. She showed absolutely no signs of injury.

That was the last time she slept in bed with me when my husband was out of town...

A Tooth!

After almost 9 1/2 months I am happy to report that Brett finally had a tooth break through on Halloween night! There were two days leading up to that of pure misery. She was crying a ton. This was the first time that my husband and I did not attribute the crying to teething because we had done that ever since she was three months old! If she was tired and cranky- yep, she must be teething!

She didn't get a fever and really only had a few hours of crying a day but I do believe that it was actually caused this time by teething.

I guess I won't have to get her baby dentures after all!

This Time Last Year

I turned on my favorite cable music station today. To my surprise, it was continuous Christmas music. I was in disbelief that the holidays are right upon us and how fast this year has gone by. As I indulged in a little pre-Christmas spirit, memories of “last year” came right back to me.

This time last year, my husband and I were going in for our 20 week ultrasound to get the long awaited news- a boy or girl! I remember leaving that appointment so excited that I was having a girl. I had big plans for her.

This time last year, I remember feeling the first kicks. I kept thinking, “was that kick?”, “no, was that a kick, Brad feel!!!”

This time last year, I could no longer use the rubber band to hold my pants together. I had to move to the maternity jeans as my belly was getting pretty big.

This time last year, I really, really wanted ONE glass of wine! I would go to dinner with family and friends and watch in envy as they sipped on cocktails and I stuck to my iced tea. Only to then be the continuous designated driver.

This time last year, I remember thinking how easy pregnancy was. I was out of the first trimester and hadn’t had a taste of the painful and sleepless third trimester. I was at the gym almost every day.

This time last year, I was so excited to shop for Reagan’s nursery. I changed my mind a hundred times on color, theme etc.

This time last year, I would sift through pregnancy books and watch baby shows on a daily basis. I loved learning about the weekly developmental stages and how amazing it was that this was all taking place.

This time last year, I had ice cream every night! I needed a substitute for my glass of wine.

This time last year, I could go to the movies, go shopping, whatever I wanted to do- without worrying about feedings, naps etc. Life was so much less stressful!

This time last year, I was so excited to meet Reagan. I was very curious as to who she would look like, what would she be when she grew up and what kind of parents we would be.

Now, in a blink of an eye, my baby is 8 months old. I look back at last year and think what a wonderful journey it’s been- rough delivery, sleepless nights, marriage adjustments, and my house consumed with toys--- it’s been worth every second.