The Pump Dump

So I’ve been back to work full-time now since May, and have left these little nuggets

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In the capable hands on my mother-in-law.

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So far I’m managing OK with not really sleeping the past 4 (almost 5) months. With Hunter, I remember sobbing because I was so tired and felt like the torture chamber of sleepless nights would never end. Could be an attitude readjustment on my part, but if I remember correctly, Greyson is doing a far better job of sleeping than Hunter did at this age. At 9 weeks, I was getting  him down around 7:30-8pm and he would sleep until 3:30ish and then awake again usually around 5ish before waking up at 6:30-7am. At almost 5 months, he doesn’t like to nap much during the day (who can nap when big brother is having a ball?) and has two lower front teeth poking up (!!), so it is early bedtime at 6:30. He nurses sometimes at 11pm, then 4ish, before being up around 6 to 7:30am.  Whatever. I have faith we will sleep through the night regularly soon. The one time he did do it was amazing.

I love getting to be a mom again for a newborn. So many differences between the two, but also so many similarities. Greyson is just a big smiley roly poly.  He has been trying since 4 months to crawl, rolls all over the place, has two teeth now, and has rolls upon rolls of chunky cuteness. James told one of my girlfriends that Grey is a chunk because my milk is better this round. HAHA! Oh my god, isn’t that great? Since going back to work I’ve actually been traveling a fair amount. I’ve pumped in an airport bathroom with a lady throwing up next to me, in a car outside a manufacturing plant with dudes on their smoke breaks, almost missed my flight because of TSA screening my ice packs, and had to ask for the chili’s waitress to fill up zip lock baggies with ice because I literally had to drive all night from Detroit when my home flight got cancelled.

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I believe saying I’ve been a dedicated breastfeeder is a fair statement. However, due to my fluctuating schedule and my boobs hurting when I couldn’t get a break to pump, I’ve  stopped pumping during the afternoon. I nurse during the morning, evening, and through out the night instead. I think tomorrow I will post my pumping tips though for working moms. Which ice packs to get, if they can go through security dethawed, which pumps/accessories to bring, and how to squeeze in time to pump when traveling with a group of male co-workers who are oblivious to how much effort this whole feeding your baby thing is. 

Green Thumb

My sister and I have these grand illusions that we have a green thumb. Growing up, my mom instilled a healthy dose of manual labor chores that included pulling weeds from the many flower, hosta, and fern beds in our yard. Getting up early on Saturday and Sunday mornings, armed with a bucket, gloves, bug spray, and usually a sour disposition for the early wake up call, was fairly normal in the summers during high school. Now that I have a home of my own, I have adopted the same need for lush greenery around the yard. However, the time to do any of the actual up keep work seems to elude me.  And I know my sister feels the same. She will call or text me about once a year to fill me in about how she is one step closer to obtaining her organic garden. I like to always take this time to remind her it is a pipe dream. This summer, after multiple years of having plants and sod die from lack of watering, James has decided we need to install an irrigation system to actually save money. He likes to remind me that the only reason we had these pretty flowers on our front steps
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was because our neighbor took pity on me and watered them every freaking day. So, here comes the massive project with a July 4th deadline, that also needs to include a new brick patio
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and leveling yard and removing sidewalk on the other side of our house.
So, like, hardly any summer projects.

Mama day all day

Well since I blew the budget on my push gift

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we did brunch at the yacht club (isn’t that so pretentious sounding) on the river and went for a boat ride instead of gifts. We were out on the water for about 5 minutes when we got pulled over by the coast guard. Naturally I assumed they wanted to wish me a happy mother’s day, however, it turns out this hallmark holiday was the last thing on their mind and did a full safety check instead.

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Thanks to James, we passed. I literally have no clue about boats. The thought of having to dock it scares the crap out of me. Actually, I take back the whole part of not getting a gift.  I did get a really killer item from my son, which now sits proudly at my desk.

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A homemade heart made out of crayons from Hunter. And Greyson, well, he gave me a nap.  :)

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Greyson’s Birth Story: Natural, pain-free childbirth

***Beware: If you are about to experience labor for the first time or have any issue with blood, vomit, placenta, feelings, etc. this story is probably not for you. I’m leaving nothing out on my experience with natural birth, so you’ve been warned. Also, there are about 13 mentions of the word fuck in this story. ***

No water birth this second time around, as there was no time for the tub to be filled. And I won’t be refereeing to contractions as pain much during this story, only sensations or muscles flexing. I truly think that reworking how my brain interpreted the feelings I was having during contractions allowed me to have a fairly manageable and pain-free labor.  Yes, it was grueling mentally and physically, but the moment I allowed myself to think of it as pain, I started to feel the panic and anxiety that followed.  In fact, it took me so long to write Hunter’s birth story because every time I tried to relive the moments to put it on paper, my stomach would turn to knots thinking of the sensations I felt.  Weeks before giving birth to Greyson, I could still remember what it felt like. However, now when I think back to labor it doesn’t have a horrible feeling tied to it. This labor replaced those negative reactions I had with only positive. And ignore any grammar or spelling issues. I would rather hang out with my baby than keep rereading this thing over and over.  So yeah. Here it is….

 

 “Help me, I can’t…the pain is too much. I want a C-Section!”  I exclaimed, exasperated.

The nurse and James both literally start almost laughing.

You are not getting a C-Section!” they both almost say at the same time.  However, in my mind, all I can picture is the white beautiful glow of surgery lights basking my face, a nice juice cocktail streaming through my veins and only the feeling of pressure as my baby is pulled out of my body.

 Let me back up a bit. Greyson’s birth story starts on Saturday evening, although he wasn’t born until Wednesday, March 11th.  Right before eating dinner on Saturday, I started to feel a little nauseated. Not terrible, but enough that eating dinner was a bit of a chore. Around  11pm that night, I started having quite the cleanse, if you know what I mean.  It was so bad that I started to think I had gotten food poisoning. I got online and sure enough those symptoms can be a sign that labor is near. Thinking that this might be the real deal, I had James call my friend Austyn to head into town. Austyn had agreed to be my doula for this pregnancy and she lives over an hour away, so I wanted to make sure if I went into labor that morning she would be here.  The next morning, I was still feeling nauseous when Austyn came into my room to check on me. We discussed that maybe my plan of a natural birth may have to change, if I couldn’t get water and food in me soon. I felt incredibly tired and depleted of energy.  Tears streamed down my face as I nodded my head that I understood things might not go as I had planned. A little bit later, with the help of some morning sickness medicine I had left over, I was able to get some water and food down. Success! By mid-morning, I started to experience strong back labor pain, however it went away after I napped with a heating pad.  During the rest of that day I had mild contractions come and go, with nothing under 10 minutes apart or over a minute.  James was home that whole day, and we had the grandparents babysit Hunter, so out for walks we went.

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By a couple of blocks it was more like waddling for me with a lot of pressure shifting downwards and a weird pain in my groin that would cause me to not be able to walk for a couple of seconds. I kept thinking tonight will be the night my water breaks. That, as you know, was wishful thinking.

Monday rolls around and I’m still very much pregnant. So I did what any sane pregnant individual would do…I went shopping at Target! Before leaving Target, I used the restroom, where I was surprised to see I had my bloody show. I never had that with Hunter, so I got so freaking excited. I walked out meeting Austyn and James by the truck with high fives.  This will be the day, again I thought.  Off to the park we rolled to give Hunter one last family of 3 play date

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before having the grandparents do another round of babysitting. Contractions were still coming and going, but not strong enough to time them until later that evening around 4pm when they went to 7 minutes and around 1 minute long.

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But that only lasted an hour and finally I looked at Austyn around 6ish and told her to go home. Baby wasn’t coming just yet and she should be with her family. Also, she had just had surgery a couple days prior to coming in town(!!!), so she really had already gone above and beyond for me.  After she left, James and I went on another slow walk around our neighborhood and then out for one last dinner date.

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During dinner, I noticed that the 7 minute/1 minute contractions had started back up.  James and I headed home, got Hunter to bed, as well as ourselves.  Woke up a couple of times to use the bathroom (surprise, surprise) and felt zero contractions. Oh well, I had officially given up hope that baby was coming this week.

 

Tuesday morning I texted my mom that I hoped this puttering along labor equaled less work for me to manage the more intense active labor.  As of late February, I was already dilated at a 3 and 70% effaced.  Granted we all know that really means nothing on when a baby was going to come, but it was exciting to think this might be an easier labor for me with less fatigue than with Hunter.  That day I sulked around the house, finishing up some work emails, making a banana pudding pie (wtf),

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and watching James install crown molding in our upstairs guest bedroom, while I looked up pressure points that could naturally induce labor. My fear was that since I was coming up to my 41 week appointment on Wednesday, the dreaded inducing labor talks would begin with my doc. Being induced was the last thing I wanted for both myself and Greyson.  I looked over to James and said “After tomorrow, you have to help me do these pressure points…(long pathetic pause)…I just really wish I knew when Greyson was coming. ”

 

Around 6pm, I noticed a slight shift in the level of contraction I was used to feeling. In fact, I didn’t know it at the time, but my emotional sign post #1 came around this time while James, Hunter and I were all hanging outside on the side porch. James went down the street to talk to a new neighbor, and left me in charge of Hunter for a bit. Well, this heightened level of muscle flexing caused me to close my eyes and concentrate, all while Hunter was screaming at me for attention to help him up on the porch.  I literally lost it and used my What THE Hell is fucking wrong with you leaving me with a 2 year old voice to call James over.  Twice.  Finally, James comes walking back over telling me the neighbor was crying because a guy down the street passed away. Begin the nice person that I am my response was “Do we know this guy? No? Then you seriously need to be helping me out instead of talking to that neighbor you seriously freaking  just met!” This may or may not have caused WWIII to interrupt between James and I for about 5 minutes.  Oh stress. Anyways by 9pm, James and I decided to go to bed early and get some sleep.

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Well, at least James could get some sleep.  I had my contraction app open and running, even though I kept telling myself to go to bed.  By the start of 10pm, the contractions were 8 minutes apart around 60-90 seconds long. By 11pm, they had slowed down to anywhere from 9 to 11 minutes apart ranging 90 seconds long.  However, even though I was having more time to rest in-between, I started to have to moan through the sensations when they came. What the Hell. This doesn’t make any sense, I thought.  James was breathing softly next to me. Obviously passed out in blissful sleep. I woke him up and handed him my phone with the contraction app I was using. “Hey, can you time the next couple of contractions for me? I don’t know what’s going on. They seem to be slowing down, but getting more intense.”  The next couple came around 90 seconds long and 13 and 11 minutes apart.  I turn to James and blurt out, “I think we should call the doctor and tell him what’s going on. Also, I think I want to head to the hospital and get an epidural.” James throws back the covers and sits up, “What did you just say? You want an epidural?!”  to which I reply “Yes, I think I want one. It is getting pretty intense.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, I had reached my emotional sign post #2 and James knew exactly what that meant. We were running out of time.  “We need to head to the hospital right now.” James says as he jumps out of bed and starts getting dressed. “OK, let me just go pee one more time and put some pants on.” I mumble as I roll out of bed.  I start walking to the bathroom, not even getting passed the end of the bed when a contraction hits. I make it into the restroom and as I get off the toilet another contraction. I walk over to put on my sleep pants. Another contraction. “James! They are coming at least every 2 minutes and are 90 seconds long!” Anxiety in my voice.  What just happened!  Had I really not been able to feel them fully when I was lying down? At this sort of contraction rate I figured I was at an 8 in dilation and hoping not further along.  “Grab the trash can!” I yelled to James as I start to feel a heat wave come over me.  “I think I might throw up.”

We get in the car, with a small trash can between my legs. I look at the clock, midnight exactly.  Oh my god, please don’t have this baby in the car, I think to myself.  The drive to the hospital we had chosen was roughly 15 minutes away.  James gets on the phone and calls the 24/7 line for our doctor to give him a heads up. Next, he calls the hospital. While talking to one of the nurses, I have another contraction. I try to grab his hand, but one is occupied with the wheel and the other the phone.  I briefly open my eyes, and can tell we are half way there and that James is doing at least 90 mph. The next time I open my eyes is to verify James telling me we made it to the hospital. We take a sharp corner fast, and the weirdest dinosaur type sound omits from the car. James reaches for my belly. “ohmygod, that wasn’t me!” I exclaimed.  James and I get a good laugh out of it now, like did he really think my belly was capable of making such a noise? We later find out that it came from the new toy truck Greyson had “bought” for his big brother Hunter that was hidden in the trunk.  Anyways, James parks my car in the half circle drive in front of the main entrance. Clock reads 12:15am.

 

He opens the door for me and I start to get out, but another contraction hits. We walk to the doors. Another contraction.  We walk through the first set of sliding doors. We try to walk through the 2nd set of doors. Locked. I try to open it up with my hands. Won’t budge.  Don’t panic, James can take care of this, I think to myself.  He grabs the after-hours phone next to the doors and I hear him talking to security telling them to hurry.  Of course, the security guard that comes over to unlock the doors walks so freaking slow. I’m pretty sure it was evident what was going on, that common sense should have told him to pick up his pace.  We head up to the 2nd floor labor & delivery ward, where I have two more contractions just trying to get to where the nurses are. “This obviously isn’t your first child” says one of the nurses, as they walk me into a room they had prepped when James called them.  James helps me out of my clothes and puts a gown on me as I lay down on the bed. A small set of standard questions start being rattled off by the nurse –Name, social, height, weight, do you smoke, etc. All of which I surprise myself by answering with “Yes, ma’am” at the end. The level of composure and nice manners I had during this active labor is a far cry from Hunter’s birth.  After hooking me up to the monitors they checked me, to which the nurse informs me that I’m at an 8 to a 9 in dilation. Exactly what I figured I was at. They call in the resident OB who does another check to confirm.  Another nurse asks if she can insert an IV line in case they need to give me fluids.  As she is inserting it into my arm, she starts asking me what natural program I’m following – Bradley Method? “Yes, Bradley” I answered. She goes on to say she is really amazed at how I’m handling myself. The other nurse in the room, Karen, asks on a 1 to 10 scale, how would I rate my pain. I said 6, which I honestly felt like it. I reserve 10 for passed out from pain.  “Oh my gosh, you must have a high tolerance for pain!” She says.  I labor in the room for about 40 minutes total.  I noticed that at times when I thought I was resting from a contraction James would begin to coach me through another contraction. “Just relax. Breath, Meghan.” Took me a second to catch on.  Apparently, James was watching the monitor and could see contractions going on that I couldn’t feel.  “That looked like a big one. Good job, Meghan!” It felt like too much energy to tell him I couldn’t feel anything and was resting. Not sure if that explains why during the laboring at home, my contractions weren’t truly 10-13 minutes apart, only it seemed like that to me since it was all that I could feel?

 

Karen mentions that my doctor has arrived and that if I would like he could come in and break my water, which would really speed up labor. “I don’t know, won’t that increase the pain of the contractions?” I ask. “Yes, most likely, but the baby will be out in no time.” Karen says. “I don’t know. Can he come in? I would like to talk to him about it.” While we wait for the doctor, James tells me he thinks I should do it. Again, my only real response is “I don’t know.” My fear is that since I’m handling the contractions so well right now, why would I want to increase the sensations and possibly lose control? The doctor comes in and we have pretty much the same conversation that I have with the nurse, Karen.  However, I ask him to check me and see where I’m at. Definitely a 9.  I nod my head yes to go ahead and have him break my water.  The thought of having our baby soon was too enticing at that moment.  The moment he does, and I mean the moment my fucking water breaks, I feel the baby slide down into the birthing canal. “HOLY SHIT!” my brain screams at me.  Oh fuck, Oh FUCK, what the hell have I done?  The first contraction wave is unbelievable. I’m feeling my breathing go from calm and centered to rapid and anxiety filled. “I CAN’T!” is all I hear in my head at the highest volume.  I can’t believe I was so stupid and just fucked with Mother Nature like that. What the fucking fuck is wrong with me!

 

Karen begins to ask me if I feel like pushing. “I don’t know, I can’t tell. The pain…” I trial off as the next contraction starts up. “Help me! Help me!” I whimper.  “What’s wrong?!” Both Karen and James ask. What the fuck is wrong? What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong? I’ve fucked myself that’s what is wrong!  I want to scream at them.

“Help me, I can’t…the pain is too much. I want a C-Section!”  I exclaimed exasperated.

The nurse and James both literally start almost laughing.

You are not getting a C-Section!” they both almost say at the same time.  However, in my mind, all I can picture is the white beautiful glow of surgery lights basking my face, a nice juice cocktail streaming through my veins and only the feeling of pressure as my baby is pulled out of my body.

 “Meghan, the baby is right there. You need to push.”

“You don’t understand. The pain. I can’t push through it.” What they were asking of me felt basically like breaking my arm and wrist, then telling me to have the pain stop, all I would need to do is go lift some 50 lbs. weights with that arm.

“Hold on, let me check you again. Meghan, look at me.  If you do exactly what I say, you will have this baby out in 5 to 10 minutes.” Karen tries to reassure me.

That sounded nice and everything, but my confidence in figuring out how to push was still low.

James starts immediately trying to get me to start breathing and pushing through a contraction with the Bradley method. I immediately shut down that attempt.  Controlled breathing? What a joke at a time like this!

Next they both start trying to get me to lean back and lift up my legs to help me push. I try to trust them, but moving during the contraction is almost too much for me.  All of a sudden, my doctor comes in, more nurses come in, the bed starts to be raised and the massive lights overhead get turned on. “Meghan, the baby’s heart rate has dropped dramatically.  You need to push this baby out now.” Karen informs me.  I hear in the background someone getting on a phone, reiterating what Karen has just said, and requests another team for backup since the heart rate is at 55. Oh my god, you’ve got to figure this out, Meghan!!! I scream at myself, heart racing at the gravity of the situation.  It takes everything I’ve ever done before look like a freaking cake walk, as I try and take what my brain is reading as pain, and morph it into what needs to be a positive, high adrenalin mountain moving flow of energy in mere seconds.  The brain is a powerful tool and after this experience, I’m in even more in awe as to what it can do with the correct thoughts.

 

The clock reads 2:00 am.  James and Karen are both holding up a leg. I get two pushes in.  I honestly feel so tight down there, that I’m not sure this is going to work.  Things get even more serious as my doctor starts screaming at me to push as hard as I can the next time. Everyone in the room follows suit and starts screaming at me “PUSH MEGHAN, PUSH!” as the 3rd contraction starts.  I start pushing and screaming.  The most insane, loudest, I’m moving a fucking bus with my teeth sort of scream. Please help me Doctor, I think to myself. He answers my prayers, and I feel him cut me.  All of a sudden, I also feel Greyson’s head turn and slip out of the canal. The clock reads 2:03 am.

 

“Meghan, look! He is here!” Karen says.  My eyes are still tightly closed, almost in shock as to what just happened. 3 minutes and 3 pushes later is the exact opposite of what it took to bring Hunter into this world. I open my eyes to see Greyson laying on the bed in-between my legs with nurses toweling him off.  We did it baby!  Cheering to myself.

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Last time, delivering the placenta SUCKED. This time is was no big deal at all. I had the shakes just like last time and did the whole sheet in the mouth thing again, so I wouldn’t chip a tooth.  After birth cramps were more present during this 2nd round, but nothing a little ibuprofen couldn’t fix.  The discharge nurse said I was the 2nd person she had ever discharged that didn’t leave with prescriptions for pain medicine! Isn’t that nuts? After I got stitched up and had some bonding time with Greyson, I asked to take a shower.  That shower felt AMAZING and I couldn’t believe how well I felt standing up and walking around.

Early that morning I said my blessings. I’m not a religious person. At all. Ever. However, I do believe that everyone is connected.  I suppose I subscribe to that old, if you put out positive thoughts and actions into the world, you usually get that back truth.  How could I not say Thank You to the universe and purposely acknowledge that what I have in my life is a far cry from what the majority of people around the world get to experience.  I did not have to bring my own clean water to the birth center to wash the baby, like some women in Africa have too. I had multiple hospitals and health options at my disposal my whole pregnancy. A team (!) of well-educated individuals looked out for the wellbeing of me and Greyson, since the first month of being pregnant.  That in a matter of 10 months, I was able to deliver a healthy, beautiful new baby boy that will call me Mom and rely on me to show him how to be a good person in this world.  (jesus, since I’ve had a some time on my hands with maternity leave, I’ve been watching tons of documentries about life, death, and poverty, so couple that with the postpartum hormones and you get this baby squeezing, mascara running hot mess.)
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IMG_1017 IMG_1013 20150311_095601 FullSizeRender2During my first pregnancy, I feel like I was a bit selfish. I understood from a medical stand point what the baby has to do to leave the womb, but I didn’t truly look at it as Hunter and I working on solving the “issue” together.  I felt like it was my marathon and I only I could only get through it by myself. However, this during this labor I truly felt like Greyson, James and myself were a true team.  Each playing an important role to help make all of this possible.   It was only for less than 10 minutes of the entire labor that I ever felt something I would label intense pain.  This was during the time they broke my water until I started actively pushing.  Also, this labor had a very positive reaction for our marriage. It was already very strong, but I feel like James and I just built another layer of protection around it. James and I looked at each other with eyes that screamed YOU ARE AMAZING!  after the labor was over.  I completely leaned on James during every contraction. I placed my trust in him that he had my back and was going to take care of me.  Even during the time when he had to move the car while I was laboring in the room answering questions from the nurses (before the pushing stage) I knew he was literally sprinting and wouldn’t leave me for long.

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Everything this 2nd round, and I mean everything, just seemed to click so much smoother.  Even now that Greyson is 7 weeks old, I feel like I’m in a much better place as a mom.  To keep me sane last time with all the unknowns of how to be a mother, I kept to the book on what I had read would mold a baby into an easily manageable child. And yes, Hunter was a truly amazing baby. He still is and so is this baby, even though I’m not following every highlighted tip.  Confidence is the one thing I will make sure my babies have a healthy dose of. Well, that wraps it up.

Hey, I think this post deserves a #realtalk hashtag and this image.

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Christmas in April

Good god, I’m very far behind on posting. Seems like I’m using instagram more and more for ” light ” blogging. I need to clean up the gallery on my phone so I’m starting with Christmas, which runs parallel to transforming our living room.

We had given ourselves a goal of having new paint, molding, fireplace, and french doors, completed by Christmas,
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but with 110 year old construction, home depot delays, me begin pregnant,
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and past owners fucking up dry wall installation, we were a bit behind. By a bit, I mean we are still not completed with the room and it is April. Newborns also have a way of slowing down projects :)
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Anyways, by Christmas eve, the stockings were hung and a fire was lit.
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And St. Nicholas did arrive with gifts, including a train set for Hunter.
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Which blew Hunters mind. Especially since he was unable to ask for anything when meeting Santa on Christmas eve.
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He was a very good boy all of 2014, super patient and helpful, used his manners, never left his bed when it was night time, etc. Needless to say he got a little spoiled.
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I made sweet breads, drinks, a horrible casserole that I not only dropped half of in the oven, but also burned. Haha, Martha Stewart I was not.
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However, we did use my great great grandmother’s plates. Fancy, we were.
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A couple days later my sis and my parents came into town. So james installed a new window.
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While we slept.
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Gorgeous weather demanded outside eating.
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And late night home video watching created a lot of jokes on my 5th grade attire.
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However, I think I had the last laugh with James wearing my sisters coat.
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So I hip hop

Hope everyone had a good Easter yesterday.

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Ours started out with putting together puzzles the Easter bunny had left Hunter

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and also enjoying a healthy diet of McDonald’s breakfast after it was decided that James and I were too tired to cook anything. After getting dressed in actual clothes (a dress, no less) we headed over to my in-laws

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for lunch and mimosas.

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Even my grandmother showed up!

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Which gave me a break from holding Greyson to lounge outside in the beautiful spring weather.

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Overall things have been going well. Lots of clusted feeding in the evening  means getting a bit more sleep at night…you know, like 3.5 hours of uninterrupted bliss.

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I used to be scared to death co-sleeping with Hunter, but with this little one I feel more confident in my abilities. Seems like more than less at Greyson’s 2am feeding, I fall back asleep with him in my arms without even noticing. I usually wake up 2 hours later and put him in his bassinet, which gives me 10 minutes to stretch out before he wakes again for more food at 4am.  Besides that, I’ve been sitting on the couch watching documentaries and nursing.

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Watching the boys play

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Or going on walks

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Or learning how to be a mom of two, where dividing my attention becomes a new skill to learn.

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But I think the highlights these past 3 weeks have been this precious smile

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And this ice cream melt

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Oh, but it is nice to have some skills already mastered, like newborn bathing. Done. And it was easy.

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Alright, got to go help James with the boat now.

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Ice Ice Baby

My sister came in town for 5 days to help take care of me and the household while James had some flights.

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She not only did chores, but made me tons of mason jar salads, homemade pizza and pasta, and best of all took Hunter on an adventure to the Science Center.

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But Hunter wasn’t the only one who got out of the house…we all went ice skating as a family on a day James was in town. Well okay, I watched and nursed from the stands.

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Of course, when James buys Hunter ice skates for this trip, he is no longer a fan of ice skating and prefers rolling down a ramp instead pretending to have a mountain biking accident.

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Btw, today marks two weeks with Greyson.

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He is pretty alert during the day, just looking around quietly. At night, he usually gives us one 4 hour stretch of continuous sleep after doing some cluster feeding in the evening. This has led me to feeling pretty good, so I worked out the past two days. Something that closely resembled this…

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And today,  I woke up feeling the consequences of it. Bed rest for me today. Want to make sure I’m feeling good tomorrow, as Hunter has surgery early in the morning to remove a lump on his neck. I won’t be able to go, which kills me inside, but I have faith it will go smoothly.

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Afterwards, it is nothing but ice cream and toy shopping for my brave hunt nugget!