We are alive, almost 4 months and almost 3 years

Sooooo. What's up?

Remember us? We are neck deep in baby/toddler land over here. Dare I admit this in a semi-public forum (semi only because there are four people that read this blog), but John is sleeping through the night. Like real-deal sleeping through. 7:30-6:30. Somehow I am still only getting 6 hours of sleep a night, but whatevs. It's good for me mentally to be able to say that at least one person in this house is getting sleep.

Rick and I joke that John is our "fake baby". He is possibly the most laid-back human baby on the planet. If he didn't smile and laugh in response to our fabulously hilarious antics, I might think something is wrong. But thankfully with these second babies, I seem to worry a bit less. I mean, I haven't gotten a hand cramp from furiously searching the internet for mysterious infant maladies like I did with Annie, so that's a step in the right direction. No?

John is still nursing, which is FINALLY going well. As you can see from his size, we are no longer worrying about him getting enough nourishment. Homeboy is large. We are almost in 6-9 month clothing and only using size 1 diapers because we have a ton to get through, but he is practically busting out of those bad boys. He eats 5 times a day now, usually at 7, 10, 1, 4, and 7. I only mention this for documentation purposes.

It is crazy to me how much you forget about babies in the down time between. I find myself looking at the information from when Annie was a baby to see what we should be doing now. This is bizarre because we certainly didn't know what we were doing the first time around, but yet it seems as if I know even less now. I am the Benjamin Button of parenting knowledge.

Annie is awesome. She is hilarious. She is starting to pick up fun new phases and is a shockingly excellent mimic. If I make a noise out of exasperation or frustration, she will say "mom, why you say (and then make the exact noise)?" She has gone from being the world's worst eater to maybe almost the world's third worst eater. I have finally just started rolling with it because I think she's genuinely not hungry. I mean, sometimes she won't even eat ice cream or cookies. Thankfully Mom and Dad are around in these circumstances to make sure this stuff doesn't go to waste.

That's all I have time for now, but eventually I will have both the mental capacity and the time to blog on the regular again. Until then, I might just start sending pics. That's all you people really want anyway. There's a surprising number of pictures of me in the images below. Not sure how I feel about that but I know I will be thankful for them later.

Time travel

To the person that thought it was wise to bump the clocks forward or back two times a year, I say...


EFFFF YOOOOOUUUU!!!! (sorry Gaddy)


I remember when I was 24 and I was out at the bar at 3:00 in the morning (sorry Dad) one cold night in November and it was closing time. Then, like magic, it was all of a sudden 2:00 am again and we didn't have to go home. It was the closest I have ever come to time travel, which I normally hate. It was also the only time in my life I have appreciated the time change. Of course, I was cursing the time change inventors the next day as I slammed my double cheeseburger and super-sized fries in an effort to get rid of my hangover, but I digress.


So what I am trying to say is that I have never, while sober, liked the whole time change thing. And then, you add kids into the mix and it's like those time change inventors are actually wagging their middle fingers right in your face and saying, "Hey, glad you had that sleep schedule all worked out, but...better kiss that whole scene goodbye because now your kid's going to be waking up at 4:30 in the morning for the next five months until you finally get them to sleep until a semi-normal hour and just when you settle into a new routine, we'll change things up again and they will be up until all hours of the evening. We hate you. Good luck."


And since Annie's on a strict circadian rhythm sleep cycle and lives and dies (or sleeps and wakes) by if it is dark or light outside, I expect us to be doubly screwed. But because I am missing the part of my brain that can figure out if I am going to be early or late if I miss the time change (I assume this is the same part of my brain that cannot figure out how Marty McFly can both be in the parking lot of the mall in the Delorian as well as watching himself from a hill overlooking the mall parking lot), I can't ever anticipate exactly how I will be screwed by the time change. Should I start moving the bed time up for this change, or moving it back? Will we be up late or up early?


I also feel like we should be able to opt out of the change. Certain people should not have to comply. Specifically the change where we lose an hour (I think that's this one). I am already getting a max of six hours of sleep a night. The last thing I need is to lose an hour because of some arbitrary shift in the clocks likely decided to be a good idea 100 years ago by some childless drunks trying to figure out how they could plow the fields for an extra hour a day. I would gladly get up and harvest corn before the light of day rather than watch 15 episodes of Calliou before the sun even comes up.


But, it will happen. And until I run for President, there's not much that I can do about it. If anyone wants to call me any time to gripe about this, feel free. I am sure we'll be up.


Edited to add: If you really want to make your brain bleed, think about Indiana and how they don't acknowledge the time change. It is both brilliant and terrifying. How anyone ever knows what time it is around there is beyond me. Or do they always know? Seriously, I might have a stroke....

Thank you-2.5 Months

Oh John,

I am so sorry. You are so neglected on this blog. But I wanted to take a second (because that's really all we have these days) to say thank you. Thank you for being such an incredibly good baby. You are so sweet and are always smiling. This could partially be because your big sister is constantly one millimeter away from your nose screaming "SMILE JOHN!!!!!! JOHNNNNN, SMIIIILLLLLLE!" Every once in a while you manage to get your little baby fingers tangled in her hair. That'll teach her to get so close.

I hear these horror stories from mothers, telling of how their baby can't be put down, wouldn't sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time, wouldn't stop crying, had colic, wouldn't let anyone else feed them/wouldn't take a bottle, wouldn't sleep unless they were held...the list is endless. All the while I am holding my sweet little boy a little tighter while they eye you like a hungry person eyes a sandwich. I really do feel like we won the baby lottery. Again, thank you.

You transitioned to Jen's house very easily. A little too easily, if you ask me. Part of me was hoping to hear that you wanted your Mom, but you are so easy going that it wasn't to be. I guess I am even more happy that you are so content all the time. You have started taking a monster nap in the afternoon from around 10:30-1:30. Unfortunately, there are only a few days of the week where your slumber isn't interrupted with us throwing you into your car seat to shuttle your big sister somewhere. You second babies get no respect.

You are still in size 1 diapers, you weighed 13 lbs 6 oz (70th %) and were 24 inches long (83rd %) at your 2 month check up. Your head was a whopping 16.5 inches (96%). Doctor Eaton confirmed that you are perfect and have no issues growing. Music to my ears.

You are a great sleeper and go to bed around 7 each night. We then get up for one feeding at around 3-4 and then back to bed until 7. Lately you have been so charming after our middle of the night session and smile and coo at me. I am on to you and know you are trying to keep me up, and believe me, mister, it is very tempting. But no one wins when Mom is tired.



Oh look, so sweet.....

.....until she looks like she wants to bite your head off.

My little man.

Let's be honest, these are going to be more around the half month mark. 2.5 months old in this pic.

You hate the swaddle, but can't sleep without it. Or can't sleep for more than 15 seconds at a time.

Basically, life is starting to feel like "normal" again. I feel like our family is complete with you in it. Thank you for that, also.

I love you, sweet boy.

~Mom

6 Weeks.

Dear John,

It was recently subtly pointed out to me that I have been slacking in the blogging department, and that you were the party taking the most direct hit with the lack of documentation of your early days. For this, I am sorry. The truth is, there is just so much MORE these days. More laundry, more picking up, more feeding (you like to take your time), more meal planning, more more more. But there is also a bit more appreciation this time around. With you, my beautiful second child, I am hyper aware of the fact that I will NEVER get this time back. This time with you where it's just us and I don't have work, and some days we don't have your sister, and because there are no degrees of warmth outside, we don't even have the pressure to DO ANYTHING, except to lay around and stare at each other and for me to take in every little bit of your beautiful baby self.

You really are quite handsome. What can I say? Your Dad and I make some pretty good looking babies. There are times you look so much like your sister did as an infant that I find myself calling you Annie. It's amazing how your brain recalls images that had long since been tucked away until you have something that brings it all rushing back.

And it did all come rushing back. How a baby's head feels tucked under your chin, how you have to be so so careful with their little tender bodies, how MANY DIAPERS you go through when they are this age, how it almost feels like it's not worth getting in bed at 11 at night because you are just going to have to get up in an hour and a half.

But with you it feels different. I feel more calm about what we are doing. Well, except for the breast feeding part. That took us a bit to get into a groove there. And that's an understatement. I might have had some sort of post-partum depression that manifested itself as a manic obsession with getting you to breast feed "properly". Once I bent myself to your will, things turned around and we have been much better since. Never get in a fight with an infant. You will lose and it won't be pretty.

Don't let my lack of writing about you make you think I have not wanted to. I have written 100s of posts in my head about nursing, differences in baby #2 from your first, priorities, obsessed big sisters, the holidays, etc., but every time I think about putting you down and picking up the computer to write one, you win. Every time. So while you were neglected on this blog, you were definitely not neglected in real life.

I have two more weeks of maternity leave. I am not sure where it went. I am struggling between trying to jam all the little projects I have wanted to complete into those two weeks and then wanting to hold you and snuggle you the entire time.

But I will keep reminding myself that the sorting, folding, and cleaning (and blogging) will always be there. But my little baby-my last baby-won't be this tiny baby for long, and the rest can wait.

I love you, sweet boy.

~Mom



John Ellis Erwin's Birth Story

We arrived at the hospital at 9:25 am; 5 minutes early as to be expected by us Erwins. Thankfully, we had called ahead and learned that they had plenty of room and we did not have to wait to get taken to our birthing suite.

We were checked in quickly, I filled out all the bizarre paperwork associated with cord blood donation (no, I have not engaged in prostitution while in Africa and using shared needles, not even ONCE!) and we were set to go. The Pitocin was administered by 10:15 and while I still had to have the IV in my wrist, thanks to the configuration of the room, it was in my left hand this time, so a bit less painful due to limited movement. Our nurse's name was Andrea and she was just as precious and helpful as every nurse we have encountered at Missouri Baptist. I really cannot say enough good things about our experience here.

When I was checked in, I was still at 1.5-2 cm dilated.

I started to feel contractions around 11:15 (I took better notes this time). And even though I swore I wouldn't, I suffered through some just to have the experience. I have no idea why I do this. It's like I think I have to have some discomfort as part of the process. But what I did learn from Annie's birth is that you order the epidural about 30 minutes to an hour before you think you will really need it. So once I felt some significant discomfort in a few contractions, I notified dear Andrea that it was time for some pain relief.

The epidural was administered at 12:45 by a delightful woman with shockingly cold hands. She had to reposition the catheter once because of some strange buzzing I was feeling on my left hip. Those epidurals are straight-up voodoo magic if you ask me. Sweet, sweet voodoo magic.

Post-epidural birthing experience was exactly what I had imagined. There had been a snow storm the day before and the view out my window was actually peaceful and Christmas-ie. For the most part, it was just me and Rick in the room. I drifted in and out of sleep between popsicles. They broke my water at 1:30 and I was relieved to hear that it was clear. If you will recall with Annie, there was meconium in the fluid, which ultimately caused her to spend some time in the NICU.

Liza stopped in for some comic relief around 1:45 and hung out off and on for most of the afternoon. When I was checked at 3:00 I was at 5 cm. I had been progressing about a centimeter an hour for the whole process. As part of the epidural, they roll you from side to side so the medicine is evenly distributed. Inevitably, there is a side that is more comfortable, which for me was my right side due to my IV and the fact that Liza and Rick were sitting on this side of the room. So that's how I stayed from around 3-5.

At 5, they checked me and I was trekking right along at my steady rate of 1 cm an hour and was at 7 cm. I recommended to Rick that he go get some dinner while he still could and they rolled me over to my left side.

About 30 seconds after they changed my position and everyone left the room, I heard the baby's heart rate go all wonky. Wonky as in stopped, then significantly slowed down. I then felt the ominous "pressure" downstairs that anyone that has ever considered birthing a baby hears about. I originally thought it was because I had to do some bathroom business, but it kept up pretty strong and just as I was about to press the nurse call button, Andrea came rushing in to see what was going on with the heart rate.

She checked me and I was at 9 cm at 5:10.

Apparently Dr. Jostes's baby antennae was up because he had just called and asked how things were going and if he had time to run to dinner. They advised that he should probably start heading this way. I called Rick to tell him to get his booty up to the room and it went to voice mail, so I sent a text saying that he should probably rush the dinner since the baby was coming. Thankfully, he made it up in time.

I had informed Andrea that Annie was born with very little pushing and that I expected the same of this baby. Apparently Andrea is a bit of a pragmatist (or pessimist, depending) and informed me that things always don't go the same way and to be prepared for possibly pushing longer. This kind of took the wind out of my sails, but I didn't think about it too much since I was pretty well rested and hopped up on sugar from my popsicles.

I stopped taking notes at around this time because that's just obnoxious, but I imagine Dr. J got there around 5:30. We talked about how to push again and then waited for the contractions to start.

Anyone that is turned off by some graphic birthing talk should probably stop here because it's about to get real.

During the first contraction, I felt very strongly that I was going to poop, which is right up there on my list of birthing nightmares. Everyone says it's completely normal and no big deal, but I suspect they have never knowingly pooped on a table with all their private parts exposed and 5-7 people in the room. So needless to say, since the push for making a baby is pretty much the same as the push for the big #2, I didn't give that first push my all. Dr. J immediately admonished me and told me I needed to push harder.

I was at a crossroads: try not to poop and prolong the birthing process or just give it my all, likely making a bit of a mess in the process, and get this baby out.

Thankfully my mom-brain prevailed and I decided to buckle down and get this baby out. Apparently I might have over-compensated as John and I both emerged from the birthing process with blown out blood vessels in our eyes. It's either all or nothing, people.

I pushed through two more contractions. Each contraction is roughly three rounds of pushing for ten seconds with one big breath in between. After the third contraction, Dr. J announced "your baby will be here after the next contraction!".

It was time.

I wish there were words to describe this brief period of time when you are hanging in limbo between pregnant and about to be a new mom. I remember the moment with Annie as well. It's as close as I can imagine to jumping off a cliff. You know with certainty that your life is about to be completely changed. That there is something coming that is so huge and important, and so completely fragile, that it takes your breath away. For both my babies, this moment seemed to stretch out a bit, thankfully.  I took a second to remember life before them and say goodbye, and welcome what was about to come. In these seconds, you have no idea what is about to happen. You and your entire family are so totally vulnerable and I am not sure how people that don't believe in God get through this period. If they had a pastor present in each delivery room of those that don't believe, I would bet they would have a pretty high conversion rate for this moment alone.

A quick prayer of "God, please keep us safe and let us be ok, but most importantly, let him be ok."

Three more rounds of pushes during one contraction and he was not out but Dr. J made a promise and we kept right on pushing and he was out. And crying like it was his full time job. Annie didn't cry, so this was the best sound ever.

5:53 pm. 8 pounds 10 oz. 22 inches long.


The cord was wrapped around his neck two times. Thankfully, I seem to make nice long cords and God kept my baby safe.

Meet John...



We are all in love, especially Big Sister.

39 Weeks

 

The hay is in the barn. The goose is cooked. Dishes are done. All the other fun sayings to imply that something has reached its full course. And for the record, my bump looks much smaller from the top, than it does from the side. That's probably for the best.

 

 

Dear John,

You will be born within a week. About five days, give or take, depending on how eager or stubborn you end up being. We have a scheduled induction set for Sunday (12/15) at 9:30. As it is with so many things, I find myself getting all nostalgic about this pregnancy as I am shuffling through my last days. My mommy mind is already pushing out the thoughts of swollen feet, aching backs, numb hands, plugged ears, stuffed noses, squashed bladders and general malaise and getting weepy over the baby that will be here so soon. Crazy how that happens. I posted once about running my second half marathon and how I couldn't understand how, after going through the pain of childbirth once, how someone could endure that again. I actually wrote it as I was 9 weeks pregnant with your sister (though I wasn't out of the closet at that point).

 

I get it now.

 

After your sister, I was convinced we wouldn't have another, just as I swore I would never run another 13.1 miles after my first half marathon. But once you are at the end, and you know how wonderful you feel having accomplished so much, and how that event has etched something on your person that changed you in a little (half marathon) or HUGE way (Annie), and the aches and pains seem to fade away. You know that the end reward is so much greater than the strain of the journey. It all ends up being so, so worth it.  

 

So here we are. A few days left. Yes, there are a few hurdles remaining, but we will get over them, and memories of the discomfort will fade with each new baby snuggle. And I am sure in a year or so, Rick will have to play back for me the video I forced him to record of me, all bloated and pregnant, talking to my future self, reminding her that we don't want to be pregnant again.

 

We can't wait to meet you. We've carved a spot for you in our lives and can't wait for you to fill it in. You are already so loved and I hope on some level you feel that already. We just have a little bit further to go.

 

See you at the finish line.

 

Love,

Mom

 



Conference-2.5 years old

As I have mentioned, Annie is currently sampling several of the local preschools Webster Groves has to offer. And one of them actually has Parent/Teacher conferences! I guess it's good to know ahead of time if your tot is a social deviant.

 

Annie's was last week.

 

I couldn't wait to hear a relative outsider's perspective on my child. She seems to love school and they seem happy to see her when she gets there. I mean, they don't shut the door in our faces or say things like "oh it's HER again", so I figured things were going well. I mean, I figured if they weren't, someone would have said something. And since Annie rats herself out for getting in trouble at her other school/parent's day out, where she is placed in the "time out chair" on the regular for not listening, I figured she must be on her best behavior at Webster Hills.

 

Mostly, I wanted to see if my child behaved differently at home than she did at school. Was she as funny, bossy, loud and opinionated at school as she is at home?

 

Yes.

 

Unequivocally yes, it would seem.

 

Mrs. Molly informed me that Annie is a very social child, loves her friends and her friends love her (even mentioned that there are a few that will wait for her to get there each day, which warmed my heart) and said that her smile was "magnetic". She's not awesome at listening or sitting still or sharing or taking turns, but they don't expect too much from the 2 year old set there at Webster Hills, which is understandable. They are "working on it" though. She loves to "clean up" and really enjoys cooperative play.

 

When I asked about the "cooperative play" business, I was basically informed that Annie makes up games for her and the class to play and then bosses everyone around. Sounds very similar to every waking hour on the weekends at Casa de Erwin.

 

I then went on to ask about ideas for indoor play/activities since it's freaking cold outside and we are about one big sneeze from having a newborn on our hands.

 

Mrs.Molly mentioned Annie's love of dressing up and asked if she liked to dress up/accessorize at home? 

 

 

Yes, Mrs. Molly, there's a little of that going on.

 

 

And then Mrs. Molly mentioned that Annie has a favorite dress that she wears every day at school. I should mention that we have been limiting the access to the full-blown princess dresses to the weekends because I could tell that we were on a slippery slope when it came to the line between every day clothes and play/princess clothes, and I wasn't ready to fight when Annie wanted to wear her Sofia dress to school. Because I knew that's where all of this was headed. But Annie seemed to accept that "pretty dresses" were for weekends and we wore normal clothes to school. I was so impressed with her acceptance of this fact. I patted myself on the back on a parenting job well done and that was that.

 

I didn't know she was getting her "pretty dress" fix at school.

 

And then, out of curiosity, I asked to see the "Annie's dress".

 

Mrs. Molly went and moved the wall mirror aside in the dress up area, explaining that Annie squirrels her dress away in this spot each day so no one else can find it. Because that's totally normal. And then I got a full view of this dress and all its glory. To say that it didn't seem really toddler appropriate would be an understatement. It was hot pink and black leopard print with black lace ruffles on the arms and around the bottom. I would have snapped a picture of it but I was kind of dumbstruck.

 

So basically Annie dresses like a toddler drag queen every day at school.

But she's happy and has friends and her teachers love her, in all her tacky drag queen glory. I am choosing to focus on that.