No more pitter patter

The sound of Jackson's nails trotting along our wood floor always annoyed my husband. It never bothered me. I even liked it. Even though it woke me up several times in the past 6 years in the middle of the night. Usually because he was sick. He would find a place to hide as if we wouldn't find out. I don't know why dogs do that; hide when they're sick. It was like he didn't want us to see him that way. Dogs want us to see them at their best. Happy, wagging tail, tongue hanging out, and smiling. That's the way I will remember Jackson. Even though he had much more sick days than most dogs (I assume), he had some great dog days too.

I remember a day when it snowed a crazy amount for Texas. Casey and I took him outside and he ran like he'd never run before. He ran until his little legs were coated in white globs of snow. Or the day I took him to a dog festival in Dallas. He sampled treats and got loved on by strangers all afternoon. Or a simple day with me in the car on a road trip when I gave him fries and ice water. He had a way of making me feel better if I was upset. I would look him in the face and he would lick me right on the nose. He grunted and moaned when you scratched him in the right places. He never took up too much room on the bed. He usually liked his own bed instead. Sometimes, I'd make him cuddle with me before letting him get into his own bed. As soon as he heard you turn the TV off at night he jumped up and grabbed his Bobo. He loved pretzels and carrots, and always trusted me.

This morning, Christmas Eve, Jackson was sick. His diabetes had taken over his body. He was weak, sick, shaking, scared, and ashamed. He tried to hide his weakness. I held him tight and let him know he didn't have to be afraid or scared. We spent the morning with him. Owen brought him every toy he could find. He showed him all of his favorite books and pointed out his favorite parts. We gave him as many hugs as he would let us, but he was in pain. No dog should be in pain. It's the one thing I never wanted for him. After getting his diagnosis last week and hearing about how it could (and likely would) take a fast turn for the worse. I knew I couldn't watch him suffer. Without daily injections of insulin his body would eventually (and did) attack itself. He developed ketosis with is fatal and painful. I held him in my arms as the doctor took his pain away and let him escape the suffering. It was fast and peaceful...and it was horrible. I kept telling him that soon it would all be over and he wouldn't have to worry about hiding his sickness and pain anymore. I could feel his tension and worry leave his body as he drifted off to sleep. I'm so glad he is pain free in doggy heaven; forever healthy. I miss him though. But he will always here. We got to bring him home and bury him in his backyard. We put him right where all the squirrels go.

I've cried just enough or too much. Owen seemed worried about me at some point and hugged me which made me cry more. In many ways it's horrible that it happened on Christmas Eve, but in some ways it's just right.

Rest in peace Jackson. You were so loved and loved us too. Our home is not the same without you in it.

Jackson

10-28-08

12-24-14

Jackson

Jackson was on sale when I bought him. He's half schnauzer, half poodle. A special dog with special problems. I'm actually allergic to dogs. They make my eyes itch and burn like crazy. Jackson was chosen because he is hypoallergenic. I can cuddle him and never even catch a sneeze. However, Jackson is allergic to everything. He needs special food and special care. He also hates kids (except for Owen, they love each other).

Jackson has gastroenteritis. He's vaccine allergic and needs an IV and catheter just to get his yearly shots. He has skin allergies that have caused him to be half bald at one point. He has had bad ear infections and pink eye. He hates my uncle Kellen and no one knows why. He eats our black mulch and then barfs. I'm guessing he does that just because all dogs are a little dumb. His latest diagnosis? Diabetes.

Last week I noticed he was drinking a lot of water. Then, he started wetting his bed and peeing in the house at night. I knew something was wrong. I took him in on Wednesday morning for a drop off appointment. When I told them what was going on, they seemed worried. Knowing that this is my Jackson, I was worried too. The vet and I played phone tag later that day and I finally talked to her around 3:00. She said, "I know this is not something you would have expected to hear, Jackson is diabetic." She went on to explain to me that his blood sugar was somewhere in the 300's and it should only be around 100. She told me about insulin injections, special diets, around the clock monitoring, and finally that euthanization is an option.

I couldn't believe it. My crazy, silly, lazy dog who has already had so many issues is now a diabetic? Euthanization? How do I even make this decision? I cried and I cried. This dog. This 20 pound black dog has been my little sidekick for 6 years. I brought him home as a 4 pound puppy to my studio apartment back when I lived alone. I sneaked him in without paying a pet deposit (dumb decision). I took care of him the best I knew how and he remained by my side through 4 moves, he approved of The Husband when we met (after a few introductions). He's my dog. He's not just a dog.

I'm not giving up on him. I'm not sure what will happen, but I'm trying to get him healthy. He's stayed by me all these years so I owe him this.

2 and a half hours

Some times 3 hours. It depends on how fast I can get the hell out of work.

So from 5:00(or 4:30) to 7:30 I get to spend time with Owen. It's not enough. It's not fair. I'm not getting used to it. When I put him to bed tonight he wrapped his arms around my neck and snuggled into my neck and just hummed. When he got quiet I put him down in his crib like I do every night. Wide awake but sleepy. But tonight, he threw his giraffe wubbanub to the side and reached up for me and cried. I immediately lifted him up and hugged him. He sat back in my arms and pointed to his rocking chair. That's our new thing. We rock in his chair every night and hum songs together. Tonight he needed more rocking and more snuggling. I can't say no to that because 2 and a half hours a night is not enough.

Migraines

It was about 8:30am. My head was pounding with a familiar sharp aching pain. My face was clammy, my hands were hot, I had chills; I was about to throw up. I quickly shouted for the teacher next door to check on my class. I said nothing to my students. I walked as fast as I could to the 1 stall teacher bathroom down the hall and got there just in time.

Migraines are no joke. The pain is so severe it causes me to become physically sick. I felt the same nausea when I was in labor with Owen. That's how bad the pain is.

About 6 years ago I was diagnosed with chronic migraines. Two years ago I missed 6 days of school due to migraines. That's when they were the worst. I've tried all kinds of preventative drugs: blood pressure meds, anti depressants, muscle relaxers, pain killers, vitamins, and of course I've tried headache diets (no cheese, caffeine, chocolate, or preservatives). Nothing worked. Imitrex works when I have a bad one sometimes. But it has a lot of dosage restrictions and is expensive. When I got pregnant with Owen I had awful headaches toward the end of my 1st trimester. And then they stopped. For the first time in years I had no headache for days...months! It was great. I remember waking up some mornings thinking that I felt high I felt so great. After Owen was born and my hormones were regulating to a non pregnant state, I had headaches again. Not to the point if vomiting. But head throbbing, skull cracking pain. I feared they were back to stay.

In the last year my headaches have had a presence, but have been nothing like what I experienced in past years. Until today. Today I felt the embarrassment of looking and feeling like a hangover. I barely made it home without pulling over. I quickly found my anti nausea meds, changed into yoga pants, and slept for 4 hours. I woke up feeling beaten and stiff, but better. I still have a headache, but I can manage a headache. It's not a migraine. I couldn't type this if I still had migraine. 

I'm about to crawl back in bed. I hope this pain will be gone in the morning. 

Today is like tomorrow.

4:30 awaken by a sick dog. Clean up sick dog mess. Back to sleep.

5:50 awaken by alarm clock. Hit snooze button every 3 minutes until 6:05

6:05 get ready for work.

6:30ish nurse little O

6:50 move like hell to get some breakfast started for Owen and myself.

6:55 kiss my little family goodbye

Show up to work anywhere from 7:15-7:50 depending on traffic.

Work my ass off with 20 little people all day with short breaks used for consuming a packed lunch and pumping milk. How relaxing. If I'm lucky I'll snag a donut from the lounge.

3:00 change into acceptable clothing for sweating. No I'm not headed for a workout. I'm headed to work outside in the Texas sun in the carpool lane.

3:50 cram as much work as possible in the next 30ish minutes. Oh you thought teachers got work done during work hours? No, we just get actual teaching done. All the work is saved for our off duty time. You know, when other people are headed to happy hour or the gym?

Arrive home between 4:30-5:00 to nurse Owen.

Today I had to go grocery shopping so I then loaded up my 1 year old and headed to Kroger.

6:00 arrive home from Kroger and whip up a hot meal for me and my little munchkin. Tonight it was chicken, sautéed spinach with a tortilla and cheese. We also shared some strawberries.

6:45 the husband got home (because he's a teacher too and had to work on work...after work)

I tell him he's home just in time for bath time...which in this house means. Owen gets a bath from daddy and I get to shower.

7:10 get Owen cozy in his PJs. The husband played with Owen while I cleaned the kitchen and boiled eggs and chicken.

7:30 nurse Owen, sing itsy bitsy spider about 34 times and put him to bed.

7:45 I drank a guiness

8:00-9:00 make lunches, clean, prep fruit for my fruit loving nugget and collapse on the couch.

I still have to pump. Maybe.

I am not complaining. But the day to day events of life are taking the fun out of me. I'm exhausted all day. I (hopefully) appear energetic and upbeat. But my tank is empty and I'm tired. I fill nearly every moment with productivity because there simply isn't enough time to slack off. 

This is being a mom. This is being a working mom. This is the life women dream of. Like that kid on the YouTube video "is this real life?".

I thought mom life would include much more use of my jogging stroller.

From my title of Working Mom (not teacher). I'd like a little less work and a tad more mommy-ing.

No Party for Owen

In just a couple of weeks, Owen will be 1.

I didn't send out invitations, I didn't create a birthday party Pinterest board, and I didn't choose a theme. Because we aren't having a party.

But...we are having a small family lunch at home where hotdogs and cake will be served. A homemade funfetti cake...with white icing and sprinkles. Maybe a candle for photo purposes; I don't expect the kid to blow it out. We will sing happy birthday. My parents and sister are coming in town, otherwise we wouldn't even be having the lunch. His birthday is on a Tuesday and the lunch is on the Sunday before.

I've said it once and I'll say it again. I am not a party pooper. But, I don't see the point in having a party and spending money on this for Owen. Please don't get your party planning panties in a wad. I will probably attend whatever party we get invited to (unless it's at that dreadful acid trip mouse themed pizza joint).

Guess what, we might not even have one for his 2nd birthday. Gasp! Somebody call CPS.

Ok ok ok. I'm very excited for him to be 1. I just don't need to throw a party to prove it. 

#dontjudgeamom

Back-to-school makes me angry.

First day of inservice at my new school. "Let's go around and introduce ourselves!" Oh joy. I know this is standard practice. I know it probably happens far more often in a room full of women compared to men. Also, for whatever reason, I hate saying my own name out loud. It's just weird. So, now it's my turn. "I'm Regan Sullivan, this is my first year here and my 6th year teaching." Silence. Boss lady says "Aren't you excited to be here?" Now I have about 30 smiley teachers staring at me "oh I'm super excited!" I say in my bestest cheerleader voice. And then I think I actually heard someone say "yay!" Not in an ironic sarcastic way either. I am excited, I really am, but I can be excited and grumpy at the same time. 

The week went on without any major excitement other than finding out our team meeting would be held during school (not after), and also that I wouldn't have to learn DRA testing because now the kids will test on a computer. I've gotten to know my teacher team that is made up of NINE women. They are all lovely. I say that with sincerity. I like them. I'm sure there will be moments filled with too much estrogen which will cause someone to break down into tears...it could be me. Who freakin knows? I hope it's not.

But, aside from learning all of the extremely important information that I spent literally days learning, I can't think of any specifics right now. I just can't. My brain is goo. Mushy, mushy goo.

On Wednesday my little Owen went to daycare for the first time in his life. I put my trust in an almost stranger and he spent 5 hours at her house. He will go for a full day starting Tuesday. He will only go Tuesdays and Thursdays for a couple of months and then we will probably end up sending him more. She sent me the most precious pictures of Owen playing, eating, and sleeping at her house. He seems to enjoy it there. That's all that  matters. I, on the other hand, was a mess. I cried when the husband went to drop him off. I cried when someone at work asked me about it. And I cried every time she sent me a picture. I stopped myself from asking her a ton of questions. Like: does he seem happy? Did he drink his milk? Don't forget his wubbanub. Did he nap long? Has he cried? Did he like his lunch? 

I'm a control freak, who has to let go.

So back to school makes me angry. It's absolutely wonderful to be a teacher. Work your ass off for 9 months out of the year and take 3 off. But dang! Back to school seems like a shock to the system each time is sneaks up. You just start to become truly relaxed, your baby learns to sleep in until 8am, and BAM! Back to school you go. It's a bummer and it makes me grumpy.

Social Media

"Social media is like fire: if used in a controlled way it can be useful, but if uncontrolled it can be dangerous and destructive." I read that somewhere. I wish I could remember where.

I have a Pinterest addiction. I have pinned nearly 6,000 pins. Yes, six. Thousand! I know. Ridiculous. Whatever. I came across a pin yesterday that is actually my own picture. {what the??!}it's a picture I took back in 2011 or 2012 of my meet the teacher gift for my students parents. I posted the picture to my personal Facebook page to share with friends and family the cute little gift I made. It was a fresh, shiny, red apple with a note tied to the stem. The picture has been pinned 174 times. I knew ZERO of the people who had pinned it.

How?? No idea. But this is exactly why I hate putting pictures of Owen on Facebook or, even more, when other people do. It's not because I'm a crazy control freak, although I am. It's because little children have no say in what adults do in regards to them. It's our job to keep them safe; keep them innocent.

I wasn't mad to see my personal photo pinned on Pinterest. I just wish I knew the path it took to get there. It's a little creepy too. I mean social media is pretty creepy, isn't it?

Don't be THAT mom...

Breastfeeding is a tricky topic. Some people think it's gross, only for newborns, only for poor people, a good idea but unrealistic, too hard to be worth it, and definitely something that stops the minute your baby turns 1.

Well, I once thought breastfeeding was strange. Before I got pregnant I'd say I would pump milk, but the whole baby-to-boob thing freaked me out. And if you let yourself think about it too long, it is a little freaky. Boobs are sexualized and the fact they they also serve a nutritional purpose is often forgotten. Or maybe not forgotten, but just hard to think about. I know some women have no problem breastfeeding in public places without a cover. They get a bad rep. People think they're trying to prove something. I mean legally they are allowed. So they're proving that they can abide by the law and feed their baby the way nature intended. Now, I don't go around with my boobs flopping about showing everyone what a great latch my baby has. No. I cover up. I go to another room. I feed my kid. I nurse in public too. I've nursed in restaurants, parks, even sitting in a lounge chair in the Guadalupe River. I don't do it to prove anything. I do it because that's how my son eats. He will be 11 months soon and he's showing no signs of stopping either. He still nurses 6-7 times a day. And would you believe?...lots of people have opinions about it...

"He can have regular milk now" (is my milk irregular?)

"You're not going to be one of THOSE moms are you?" (What?...)

"Don't be THAT mom." (That mom that feeds her child?)

"He doesn't need your milk after he's 1."(But, he needs milk from another mammal?)

"If he's hungry, give him a snack."(I doubt goldfish have the same nutritional value.)

"Won't you be glad when that's all over with." (No, but YOU will.)

I have answers to all of this. For one; no, I do not plan on being the mom you saw on the cover of People or Time (whichever it was). I do not plan to breastfeed when my son is in grade school. But, that is literally years from now. He's not even 1 yet, not even walking yet! Why do I need to take away something he needs? Yes...needs. And why, would I give him another animals milk when I have human milk, made for humans? No other animal does that. Would you feed a cow some milk from a lactating monkey? Would you drink monkey milk? ...seriously. Think about it.

Yes I drink cows milk, and enjoy dairy. But, I don't drink it and think, "hey, this is the equivalent to drinking breastmilk." No, nothing is equal to breastmilk. No formula or other animal milk will ever live up to what breastmilk does for babies. Ever!

Owen has (thankfully) never been sick and I have to believe it's because of my milk. So, Owen will get my freshly made human milk until further notice. Maybe it will be a year, maybe longer, maybe 2 years. I can't really answer that question right now.

Obviously yes, I will be happy when I no longer have to stay up until 11:00 every night to pump just a few more precious ounces before bed to add to my growing stockpile of 200+ ounces.

It will be nice when I can eat lunch with coworkers instead of hiding and pumping while eating one handed all alone. Of course! But, I'll do it as long as Owen wants me to...happily.

"I'm a teacher."

Owen is crying right now, this whole "cry it out" thing is hard. He just wants to be held. He'll be fast asleep and as soon as I lay him in his bed he screams and reaches out his little hands for me. It's so sad. He doesn't do this every night and he only cries for about 10 minutes. But I can't hold him all night long, I've tried.

School has been out for summer for a couple of weeks now. The husband is working 4 days a week for his parents real estate business for some side money. Someone give that man a high five, a hug, a beer...something to thank him for doing what he's doing for us. A couple of months ago the decision was made that I would continue working part time as a sub for next school year so I could be with Owen. I stopped applying for teaching jobs and focused on my little side gig of making and selling wreaths. I put the idea of teaching out of my mind.

Quitting your job is scary. Living pay check to pay check is hard. But being a new parent brings challenges that make everything else...different. When I packed up my classroom just 6 months ago I knew I'd return to teaching. I just didnt know when or where. I just knew I had to leave where I was to be home. So I dumped my boxes of classroom stuff in the garage and haven't touched it since.

So when we decided that I would stay home next year. I felt the pressure of job searching fade away. I finally felt like I was  "allowed" to do what I was already doing. Like I had been given permission. That's when I started to feel guilty, or irresponsible...or something. And then I learned about job openings at my friends school that she loves, and I knew I had to apply. I have to go back to work. For many reasons. So I applied on a Friday, interviewed on Tuesday, and was hired on the following Friday. I accepted.

I am a teacher. Starting in the fall, I'll be back in a classroom of my own with 20 eager kindergarteners at Arlington Classics Academy.

Owen will be going to some sort of daycare for 2 days a week and spending the other days at home with his Granna. I accepted the job, but I have not accepted this part yet.

BLW

Avocado

Cucumber

Bell pepper

Asparagus

Chicken

Broccoli

Hummus

Sweet potato

Tomato

Mango

Banana

Waffles

Apple

Peaches

Watermelon

Eggplant

Toast

Butter

Carrots

Applesauce

Greek yogurt

Puffs

Cantaloupe

Green beans

Black beans

Tortilla

Eggs

Strawberries

Yellow squash

That's a list of everything Owen has eaten (I may have forgotten a few things). I puréed NOTHING. I spoon fed him NOTHING. All I did was put the food on the tray. I mean, obviously I sliced up most things and cleaned all of the produce. I cooked some of the veggies, but not all of them. He loves everything! I only used seasoning (onion powder) on the eggplant. If I sautéed something I used real butter. I steamed some of the veggies too. The best part is that he feeds himself. He chooses what to eat and how much.

I first learned about Baby Led Weaning on Pinterest. I saw a picture of an adorable little baby gnawing on a corn cob. I started reading blog after blog about what BLW is and why it's so great. It makes perfect sense. When introducing food to your baby, why would you teach them to swallow before they learn to chew? And why would you shove anonymous slop into your baby's mouth without them even knowing what it was? Just because some big brand says it's baby food doesn't mean that's all a baby can eat. Imagine for a minute that someone has a spoon full of goo and without telling you what it was they just put it in your mouth. ...yeah, gross. I'd spit it out too. Owen gets to investigate his food before eating it and recognizes foods he really likes.

Here's tonight's dinner for Owen:

Avocado slices, orange bell pepper, hummus, sweet potato, and grape tomatoes. And he'll get some watermelon for "dessert". He's starting to learn how to dip foods, but he usually misses and dips his fingers instead. It gets messy.

There's a Baby Led Weaning book that helped a lot when starting out. He's only been eating solid food for 2 months and I still go back to the book for tips.

Owens pediatrician didn't even know what BLW was and recited her speech on starting purées at his 6 month appointment. I told her I wasn't doing any purées and she give me a very confused look and told me to do purées anyway. I honestly can't wait for his 9 month check up to tell her we never did purées. Oh, and I didn't do 1 new food at a time. I think I'll just bring the list of food he's had and show her. Can't wait to see her face after that!

Here's what's left of Owens dinner:

The days are long.

3:30am wake to the sound of Owen babbling to himself over the monitor.

3:35am change diaper and nurse Owen

4:00am back to sleep for everyone

5:45am wake to my alarm clock

5:50am nudge husband awake to change diaper and bring Owen to me

6:00am nurse Owen

6:10am doze off while nursing Owen

6:25am wake to my second alarm clock and a cuddly fed baby

6:30am get dressed for work

6:50am get lunch, coffee, and pump supplies packed for work

7:10am hand Owen off to babysitter and kiss Owen and husband goodbye. Hopefully carrying some sort of breakfast.

7:30am arrive at work, check email, get papers/supplies ready for the day.

7:45am students enter classroom. Teach calendar, reading mini lesson, and check 18 folders and backpacks for notes.

9:00am drop kids off at PE/music/art. Go pump in classroom.

9:30am reply to emails

10:00am snack time with class

10:20am teach reading, math, hold small group lessons

12:55pm lunch-pump while eating, go to recess

1:55pm teach social studies or science

3:10pm sign and pack 18 folders, hug 18 students and send them home.

3:30pm carpool duty

3:50pm cleanup and go home or stay and prepare next days work

4:15pm arrive home and send babysitter home. Hold and cuddle Owen.

4:45pm play time with Owen

5:15pm rock Owen to sleep for a nap

5:45pm nurse Owen

6:00pm play time with Owen. Hopefully make dinner or husband makes dinner.

6:30pm feed Owen real food. Eat my own dinner.

7:00pm bathe Owen

7:30pm read a book to Owen, nurse Owen, rock him to sleep and sing songs

8:00pm sit still

8:30pm shower

9:00pm watch tv with husband, do dishes, clean house, fold laundry, or whatever chores that need attention.

10:00pm check on Owen. Pump

10:30pm clean pump parts and other bottles.

11:00pm Go to bed

Start all over again. Each day is slightly different. I don't always get woken up at night and sometimes a glass or 2 of wine/beer sneaks into the schedule before bed. 

A few weeks ago...

The scene from This is 40 when they're in the hotel being crazy together. They order room service and eat weed cookies? For an evening they are silly, irresponsible, and act the way they did before they had kids and big life stressors. Well, we didn't eat any pot, but we did the other things. We stayed in a hotel, ordered room service, drank like college students, danced in a bar (where no one else was dancing), and woke up in a fog. It was so much fun. We got to enjoy each other again without being on a diaper/feeding/sleeping schedule. Don't we look like fun parents :)

You can still do anything you want when you're a parent. But if you're a responsible human being-you don't. That's right, I'm going to say it. Good parents actually take care of and stay home with their kids on a regular basis; and good kids have parents who love each other more. MORE. I remember at one of our premarital counseling sessions with our priest he told us. When kids come into the marriage we have to remember that our marriage comes first. So it took us almost 6 months into parenthood to remember that and realize that we needed a refresher. So we did what all good new parents do. We boozed, brunched, laughed too loud, danced in a grungy bar, took a very blurry cab ride back to our hotel...and slept!

...and then I woke up at 6am to pump milk :-/

5 Months New

Owen is 5 months old today. He weighs about 15 pounds and has outgrown most of his 3 month clothes. He has still never had any food or formula. {I've made it 5 full months of breast feeding!!!}

He is starting to sit, sort of. I have to position his arms and legs into the perfect tripod in order for him to keep himself balances. And even then, if he turns his head to fast, he comes crumbling down. Which he thinks is pretty hilarious. Things he loves right now are chewing on things, grabbing Jackson's fur, sitting up, and he loves waking up in the morning. He is definitely a morning person! Which is turning us into morning people too...sometimes. His great morning moods are pretty contagious. I've got to get a video of it soon. I'll show it to him when he's a grumpy teenager too sleepy to get up for school. Or maybe he'll be this awesome forever? It's not completely impossible. People keep chiming in with their uninvited advice telling me to "watch out, he's about to turn into a nightmare." Well you warned me about pregnancy-aced it, you warned me about childbirth-breezed through that, you warned me about how breast feeding won't work-I've got milk, you warned me about sleepless nights-nope, and now this? Just stop it. There are exceptions to every rule. Owen proves everyone wrong. Here's what I've discovered about all of this: some people like to poop on your parade and shower you with their negative experiences. If I speak to a pregnant woman, I make sure to tell them about how great my birth experience was, how wonderful a sleeper Owen is. I don't do this to brag (although it is a braggable topic) I do this because every book, blog, or woman I heard from told me awful stories. It needs to stop. Have a freaking positive outlook, invision a good experience. If all you think about is bad stuff...guess what? All you see or notice or experience will be bad. If you're a negative person you probably have a negative life. If you're positive, you're probably awesome and I want to be your friend.

Happy 5 months of life little Owen! We love you so much :)

No Posting

Did you know there are crazy weirdo freaks out there? Yes. Tons of creepers spending their time searching for pictures and videos of kids. Scary. And gross. And to think that they could see pictures of Owen! EEeek!

While I am a rational person, I know I can't protect my son from everything forever. I also know that I can prevent some of the craziness. Obviously I've posted pictures and even a couple videos of Owen onto Facebook. I'm a proud mom, of course I want to show him off. However, I am not, and never will be, comfortable with anyone else (other than the hubby) posting pictures or videos of him. When I post something, only my own Facebook friends see it. When someone else posts something...a bunch of strangers see it. It's just icky.

We love how much everyone loves Owen and we know it's hard to resist recording and photographing him. But, we'd like to limit the pictures of him that are shared with the whole world. We would like to be the ones who decide when and what photos/videos of him are posted to Facebook. If you're with him and do take a picture or video and it's just too cute not to share, just text it to us or to other family. We would love to see it! But please, DO NOT post it to Facebook.

Our kid: our rules.

I will never, ever post pictures of someone else's kids.

Target Moms

First of all, being a substitute teacher is my favorite teaching gig so far. I get to walk into a classroom where the lessons are already planned. I just follow directions. And if I don't get through all the stuff...it's ok, I'm just a sub. Not to mention, subs are SO appreciated! I get thanked at least 5 times a day just for being there. Feels great to be needed. Also, I basically decide when I want to work and when I want to stay home. Today, I turned down 5 jobs to stay home. Our nanny (grandma) had a hair appointment and I'm kind of sick and my voice sounds like a sleepy man. Anyway, Owen and I went to Target around 2:30. As I wandered the aisles I saw new mom after new mom. Sleepy looking young women with their infant car seats tucked into their shopping carts. Pushing the carts so slowly and carefully so they don't wake their little munchkin. Wearing mismatched clothes because nothing fits. We all gave each other a friendly "mommy club" smile and continued on our little outing. Not long ago, I too pushed the cart way to slow, wandered like a zombie around the store with no plans to buy anything. But today, I had Owen snug in his carrier strapped to my chest. His wide eyes trying to see over the edge of the straps. I felt like a pro, I'd changed a poopy diaper and breastfed him in my car in the parking lot. I didn't schedule my shopping trip to be during a nap time but, he always falls asleep when I "wear" him. I'm getting better at this. I'm still a new mom, but I'm getting better. See you another day Target Momma's!

First post of the 2014!

This little person, our Owen, is 4 months old. Someone please tell me how 4 months can zip by so quickly. I still think back and day dream about the morning he was born.

He's not a helpless newborn anymore. The last month has been my favorite. Owen is learning so fast. He reaches out to hold things. He studies things with the cutest serious face. He can roll from belly to back and he is starting to like toys.

He is still just a little munchkin weighing in   at 13.91 pounds and 24 inches tall, 17th percentile in weight and 7th for height.

We love our little wiggle monster :)