Nostalgia, part 2: My mom is awesome

For many reasons I don't have time to detail right now. But since we're talking about childbirth, I have to give a shout out to my mom. Now, I knew moms were supposed to help when a baby's born. At my grandma's funeral when I was 6 months pregnant, my mom talked about the things my grandma did for my mom each time she had a baby. So I had an idea of the gravy train I'd soon be riding.

My mom came in the day we got home from the hospital; she claims it was on Alaska airlines, but I still picture it as being a white stallion. We were tired and didn't have much in the way of groceries, so she and Dave walked around the corner to Quizno's and brought home dinner. As bedtime approached, she had me nurse Mabes and go right to sleep. Mom's orders. She took care of the diaper changes, burping, rocking, etc. During the night, she'd wake me every 3 hours to nurse, then I'd go back to sleep while she dealt with Mabes' day/night confusion. Every night for a week. In the morning, she'd handle the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, etc., and I just had to enjoy it and nap when Mabes did. I felt bad about the lack of sleep my mom was getting, since I can function better than my mom and sister can with little sleep. She just brushed it off and said she needed to take advantage of every minute with her new granddaughter. When Mabes would have a particularly rough night, my mom wouldn't tell me. She'd just smile when I asked how the night was and respond, "Well, we got to know each other a little better."

I'm realizing how rare this is. We were talking to one couple with a son 4 months older than Mabes, and I mentioned that Mabes started sleeping better as soon as my mom left, and how I felt bad for my mom. The husband's jaw dropped and said, "Wow, your mom took some of the night shifts?" Um, yeah...she took all of them... Hormone's weren't the only reason I was a sobbing mess when she left.

So despite calling her insane in my last post, I really do have nothing but respect, admiration, and love for my Moom. Yay, Moomy!

I hate the word "nostalgia"

Really, doesn't it sound like blocked sinuses or something? Nonetheless, I've been rather nostalgic lately about babies. Pretty much everyone I know is pregnant or just had a baby, except me. I'd like to go ahead and make that clear right now so no one's expecting a fun announcement on Christmas, like we got to do 3 years ago. So no pregnancy announcements, at least from me. Maybe Louie's pregnant.

But I was just reading my cousin's blog (sorry, no links--not that fancy yet), she's pregnant with her first, and at that "holy crap there are only two ways for this baby to come out and neither sounds fun" stage. And then our good friends here just had a "little" baby girl. The mom had wanted a drug-free hypnobirth, but after 40 hours of labor she had to have a c-section because the 10 pound 7 ounce baby just wasn't budging. Yowzuhs.

In Lisa's blog, she writes about the respect she has for anyone who has given birth. I like her idea of discounts at movie theaters. But honestly, when I was in labor, respect was all gone. I was angry--angry at all the women before me that talked about how wonderful it was. Idiots. I began to seriously question the sanity of any woman that had had more than 1. I mean, the first one is understandable. You don't know any better, and it *sounds* like a good idea. You get to eat whatever you want for 9 months, your coworkers let you have all the fans, you get to go the the doctor a lot (I like the doctor's office), and did I mention eating for 10? And then you go through a day or so of pain, big deal, I've had both my jaws broken, and then you have a baby.

Not so simple. After my water broke, I just laid there staring at the ceiling tiles wondering why a woman that had seemed so smart and put together did this 6 freaking times. I had had so much respect for my mom, for raising us as well as she did/does, only to realize that she must have been certifiably insane--that was the only explanation. I felt so betrayed.

But then you have your baby. And you know the cliche about forgetting it all? Well, that's a load of crap too. And once you become a mom, you just have to deal with all sorts of pain, whether it's figuring out breastfeeding or dealing with a 2 year old having yet another sleep regression. While you may not forget the pain you were going through when you signed the consent form for the epidural (though I later realized that pain was due to being in transition--going from 4 cm to 10 cm in just over an hour is not pleasant!), it does become a price worth paying for a baby. Sleep deprivation and all. So good luck, Lisa, and all other expectant moms. Labor sucks, but the day Mabes was born was one of the best days of my life.*


Totally different subject: I should probably listen to kiddie music in the car, but I don't. Blame the article I read in Parenting that said that any kind of music was beneficial for kids and helps them to learn about rhythm. She's a big fan of Kanye (something about the beat of Golddigger calmed her down when she was a newborn), though her current favorites are Timbaland's "Apologize" and I'm embarrassed to admit Flo Rida's "Low." Her very favorite is Colbie Caillat's "Bubbly." Whenever it comes on the radio (or at the grocery store) Mabes raises her eyebrow's and says, "Mommy! Listen! I hear it!...Yeah, I hear it! I lika dis song!" After she said that today in the car, I asked her if it was her favorite song. She responded that it was the "Best ever song."

But she's learning Christmas songs. Friday night, we were serenaded on the drive back from Costco by Mabes singing "Jingle Bells." Her version consists of simply singing "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells..." over and over again. I think she threw in a "jingle all the way" once, but other than that, it was just "jingle bells." For 20 minutes.

*I realize that Em's birthday should be the absolute best day of my life, but it's really close between that and my parents' 30th anniversary. While Mabes' birth was life-changing and certainly the most amazing experience of my life, my parents' anniversary was just more fun. I mean, my whole family on a private chartered boat sailing along the NaPali coast of Kauai vs. being a hot sweaty mess pushing an almost 10 pound baby out. Both great days, but for different reasons.

Tell us how you really feel...

Mabes loves Santa. Every time she sees a Santa she gets so excited, and Saturday morning at the ward breakfast was no different. But by the time we got to the front of the line, she wasn't too happy and wouldn't even fake a smile--I think I like this better, though.

We then went to the library, where Santa was also visiting and they had lots of craft and activity tables. Home for a nap, then we headed to the outlet mall for Christmas shopping and the obligatory carousel ride. Stopped at Chick-fil-A ("chick-a-lay") for dinner and then came home. In Em's words, the "best ever day."

Important News

Cadbury has finally realized they don't have to limit their US marketing efforts to Easter. Yay! I mean, you can buy Cadbury eggs from vending machines in London tube stops year-round, for crying out loud, but we have to wait for Easter like a bunch of chumps. But no more. They have both Cadbury egg ornaments and the equivalent of Cadbury mini-eggs in Christmas colors. And they're on sale at Target this week, 2 for $4.

Just thought you'd like to know.

Ghost of Christmas Past

Don't tell Mabes, but my mom is getting her a Little People House for Christmas. I'm so excited. So I pulled out my photo album and realized that I was the same age when I got my Little People House, back when the people were smaller. It's still a cute house that Mabes plays with at Grandma's, and she's going to be so excited to get her own.







And as long as I had my scrapbook out, I decided to add these pictures. Note the awesome hair, scrunch socks, and Keds.


















Ah, the Christmas Duet. Note our stylin' bangs and matching glasses. Despite the torture of these duets each year, we're still great friends. Many of our practice sessions ended with one of us shoving the other one off the piano bench--I, being the younger/smaller of the two, was more often the shovee than the shover. It was like throwing two cats in a pillow case. But if you listened closely, among the clawing and screeching, you may have been able to make out the tune of "Silent Night."

Favorite Words

I'm loving all the Christmas decorations everywhere, as every time she sees one, Mabes shouts out "Santuck!" (Santa) or "Snowpan!" (snowman). I'll be very sad once she gets the correct pronunciation. It was a sad day when she no longer called kangaroos "chockabas," and she rarely says "dockadoo" (cock-a-doodle doo) anymore. However, instead of randomly singing "dockadoo" as she runs around, she's replaced that with "dop-a-dee, dop-a-dee!" Which is equally amusing.

We had a nice Thanksgiving, the highlight of which was getting to ride a horse. When we let her ride a pony last month, she cried the whole time. I don't know if it was because she was riding with Brie, or if maybe the smallishness of the pony freaked her out. But she LOVED riding this horse.

Here she is, riding into the sunset:

Happy Thanksgiving!

Mabes is a turkey. We already knew that, but now we have photographic proof.






















This is the hat she made at our craft class at the library. Between that and story time, she thinks you go to the library to "shake it." And today was no disappointment--before crafts, the teacher handed out jingle bells and Mabes got to dance and shake it to her heart's content.

Strange little girl...

They say that children mimic their parents with their dolls. If this is true, I must put Mabes in her stroller, run her into walls, then dump her out of the stroller, and put my cars, puzzle, cup, and shoe in the stroller and go tearing around the house. And then start crying when the puzzle falls out.

Yesterday, Mabes found the fruitcake that a woman from church gave me. It was a small loaf in a ziploc bag, so she didn't taste it and had no clue what it was. But she was quite convinced that it was her best friend. We got home from church, she immediately put it in her stroller and pushed it around until lunch was ready. Fruitcake Friend then watched her eat, then watched the obligatory 5 minute pre-nap episode of Thomas with Mabes. Rather than ride the naptime horsey to her room, she pushed Fruitcake Friend in her stroller. FF sat in her lap while Dave read to her, then she threw it in her crib.

I figured I would be sneaky and pull it out while Dave was picking her up and closing the blinds. He put her in her crib and I went to get her cars and the doll she sleeps with. When I came back, she was looking under her pillow and blankets for her Fruitcake Friend. She kept asking, "Wheh go? Wheh go, mommy?" At this point, Dave was of no help as he had collapsed on the floor laughing. So I grabbed the fruitcake, laid it next to the baby doll, and Mabes snuggled down and talked to her cars and fruitcake until she fell asleep. She didn't touch it, she didn't try to open or eat it. She just wanted it in her crib with her.

Peer Pressure

So I finally got a blog. Because all the cool kids are doing it. But pictures are way more fun than my ramblings, so here are photos of our recent trip to the pumpkin patch.




Even though the pumpkin was obviously too large, Emaline kept trying to heave it off the ground. You've gotta admire her determination.















Triumphantly, she found one more her size.
















But then she put it down on the wood platform. Apparently, she didn't like the mess of pumpkins everywhere, and thought she needed to pick them up off the ground and put them on wood. I think she was a little mad that we weren't helping, because there were a lot of pumpkins.











Off to get more pumpkins...

She loved the tractor. I'm not sure why Dave looks photoshopped in, he was there, I promise.
























I just like this picture because her face matches the pumpkin on her shirt.