These were the first words M ever heard me say and I find that slightly amusing that a simple exclamation could so accurately describe how amazing my life became July 16th, 2010.
There is no way to describe how it feels to be a parent other than to say it is the most exhilarating, fulfilling, and terrifying experience I can imagine. The first 6 months have flown by in a whirlwind of explosive poop, loud talking, constant worrying, and general tiredness but it has been and, I'm sure, always will be more than worth it. M, or "Monkey" as she is more commonly known, is easily the most beautiful and precious baby ever born on this planet... yes even more precious than me. This is a fact proven by science so just accept it. Callie and I actually worry about our next baby and how it could possibly be as perfect as M is.
One of my favorite things that M does is make fart sounds with her mouth. I think farts are hilarious and the fact that she derives so much enjoyment from repeatedly making "mouth farts" fills me with more joy than I can possibly describe. Also, having someone else to blame my farts on is nice as Callie doesn't generally buy it when I blame them on the dogs.
M has recently started sleeping in her crib in her own room but until she made that transition she was sleeping in her "pack n play" at the end of our bed. One night I came to bed late after Callie had already fed M and laid her down and both of them were asleep. I slowly and carefully got into bed making as little noise as possible and just as I got comfortable M rips one of the manliest farts I have ever heard to this day. Not a cute little baby toot but an explosion of lecherous force that could have come out of an overweight man in his late 40's who subsisted solely on refried beans, pork rinds, and Milwaukee's Best. Laughing by myself in bed, trying not to wake either of them up, being the proudest dad on the planet.
Maddy Elene Photos
photo cred: Maddy Elene Photos
Monday, January 31, 2011
Poo and Protect
A few weeks ago I had this terrifying dream. The world was overrun with zombies! As if zombies weren't terrifying enough on their own, in the dream I was fighting them off with a stick while carrying M in one of those backpack type carriers attached to my chest. While I can blame the Zombies on recently watching The Walking Dead, the trying desperately to protect my child from some horrifying event probably stems from me being a natural born worry wart. Not my best trait. I have always been the worst case scenario person. I worry about everything, and I mean everything. For example: I worry about snakes constantly! I worry about being murdered or abducted by some crazed maniac or aliens. I worry about vampires being real. I worry about nighttime intruders. I worry about daytime intruders. I worry someone will abduct me while I'm giving M a bath and they will leave her alone in the tub. I worry about car accidents and the paramedics having to cut off my clothes and seeing my worst pair of underwear. There are so many more..... seriously, this could take years. So, I hope you get the point.
Over the weekend, my husband and I had a conversation about our desperate need to protect our child. I brought up my fear of 2012 and how I worry about some crazy world apocolypse like in the movie The Road. I don't worry because I'm afraid of what would happen to me or about defending myself. I worry about having to protect my child and any future children we may have. I can't imagine having to survive in extreme environmental conditions while protecting my family. Mostly, I don't know how I would survive if anything happened to them. Which made me start to wonder and, well, hope that I am not the only person who worries about things like this. Especially crazy things like zombies attacking my family or the world ending in 2012. I can't even protect my daughter from her own poop exploding out of her diaper. How am I supposed to keep her safe when zombies take over?
I don't know if M will actually read any of this when she is older but if she does then... M, Mum-mum (what we think we can hear M calling me sometimes) is really sorry that I am about to tell the internet world about your poop! The past several months M's poop literally shoots out the top of her diaper every single time she poops. Before you even say it... we've tried at least 4 different brands of diapers. It's not the diapers that are the problem! I don't know what the problem is but it drives me crazy. At least once a day I have to try to remove her poop covered clothes without getting poop in her hair, all over me, or all over the house. I don't know what to do about the poo! If I can't protect her from explosive poos then how will I ever protect her in 2012?
Over the weekend, my husband and I had a conversation about our desperate need to protect our child. I brought up my fear of 2012 and how I worry about some crazy world apocolypse like in the movie The Road. I don't worry because I'm afraid of what would happen to me or about defending myself. I worry about having to protect my child and any future children we may have. I can't imagine having to survive in extreme environmental conditions while protecting my family. Mostly, I don't know how I would survive if anything happened to them. Which made me start to wonder and, well, hope that I am not the only person who worries about things like this. Especially crazy things like zombies attacking my family or the world ending in 2012. I can't even protect my daughter from her own poop exploding out of her diaper. How am I supposed to keep her safe when zombies take over?
I don't know if M will actually read any of this when she is older but if she does then... M, Mum-mum (what we think we can hear M calling me sometimes) is really sorry that I am about to tell the internet world about your poop! The past several months M's poop literally shoots out the top of her diaper every single time she poops. Before you even say it... we've tried at least 4 different brands of diapers. It's not the diapers that are the problem! I don't know what the problem is but it drives me crazy. At least once a day I have to try to remove her poop covered clothes without getting poop in her hair, all over me, or all over the house. I don't know what to do about the poo! If I can't protect her from explosive poos then how will I ever protect her in 2012?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Six Marvelous Months with M
Six months ago my dreams came true. Most kids dream of becoming a doctor, lawyer, princess, or something amazing. Not me. I wanted to be the mother of someone amazing. Now that I am an adult (ugh) I realize just how strange that was to be dreaming about when I was only 5 years old. Someone actually told me once that this meant I had no ambition. I think that person was just jealous that I knew what I wanted out of life and they were a 30-something year old man living with their parents and working a dead end part time job who had no idea what they wanted to be when they grew up. After 26 years, 1 month and 16 days and a whole lot of wishing and hoping and tons of patience... I finally became a mother of someone amazing.
I can't believe it's already been 6 months since I first saw her perfect little face. M has these beautiful brownish green eyes, funny little elf ears that stick out like her Dad's, the most adorable nose I have ever eskimo kissed, the chubbiest cheeks I have ever pinched, and she wakes up every morning with the wildest bed head I have ever seen. I absolutely can not get enough of her.
Every day with my chunky monkey is an adventure. She makes me laugh harder than anyone ever has. When she was a few weeks old, my mother in law asked her if she had pooped because she smelled something stinky. She sticks her finger in the side of M's diaper to open it and peek inside to check for poop when M lets out the loudest and smelliest baby fart imaginable. That's what you get for calling her stinky. M loves to give us a hard time, she is constantly reminding us that she is in charge. I remember holding her when she was about a month old, I needed to go do something so I asked her if her Daddy could hold her. She was sleeping and in her sleep she opens one eye and glares at her dad for a second, then rolls her eye and closes it. It's as if she were saying "If he has to....."! M is the LOUDEST baby you will ever meet. We call her our loud talker. The dogs are now terrified of her because every morning she can't wait to get downstairs and scream at them as loud as she possibly can. It doesn't help that she usually does this while sitting in her activity seat which puts her at eye and ear level with the poor dogs. The first time I heard M laugh, I was making fart noises while playing peek a boo with her. She let out this fantastic little chuckle and didn't stop for at least 10 minutes. I laughed so hard I almost cried. Her laughs make my day. She's bossy and demanding. I am hoping this means she will take after me and know exactly what she wants out of life and never settle for less.
When M hurts, I hurt more than I ever thought possible. I hate taking her to get her shots. My husband and I took her for her 2 month shots. I made him hold her because I knew I couldn't watch. I sat behind them and was on the verge of having a meltdown the entire time. When they finished giving her what seemed like 20 shots, my husband picked her up and she stuck out her bottom lip and began to cry. All while giving me a look that let me know she blamed me. I was traumatized.
M likes to get rowdy. She's a tough little girl. She's been sleeping in a bassinet since she was 1 month old. The bassinet has a vibration box attached to it. M figured out that all she has to do is kick the vibration box and it will turn back on. All night long, we listen to her kicking and kicking and kicking. After she kicks the box, she rests her leg on top of it, daring it to turn back off. M is very strong. An hour after I had her, she was forcefully searching for my boob. She was hungry and knew where her food was. She was so strong that she pushed her way off my shoulder and down to my boob all by herself. I started to feed her and she reached up and grabbed my finger. Thanks Mom. She has also been able to hold her head up and look around since the moment she was born. Sometimes I feel like we bypassed the first few months and she was born 6 months old. She's growing so fast. Slow down Monkey!
M is now 6 months old, she has 2 adorable bottom teeth that make her grins more precious than they already were. I didn't know that was possible. I also didn't know a person could produce as much drool as my little girl does. She is 19lbs of solid perfection and while she is very heavy, I will never get tired of holding her. I can see M at 16 begging me to stop. I never will. She is 27" which means she is 6" longer than she was when she was born and that makes her like 1/2 my size already. I'm a shorty. I think she'll be tall and thin like her Dad. Not a bad thing. We're trying to teach M to roll over. She did it once when she was 3 months old and has refused to do it on her own again. She knows how to grab her bottle and put it in her mouth but can't quite tilt it high enough to get all the milk. When we try to show her how to do it she gives us a look that says "Fine, you do it" and she lets go. She is wonderfully lazy. Maybe she won't mind me holding her when she's 16 after all. I love my lazy girl.
I want M to always be happy, healthy and safe. Aside from that.. I want her to have fun and enjoy life. I want her to be whoever and whatever she wants to be. As long as she has wants and goals then she has ambition. I love her.
I can't believe it's already been 6 months since I first saw her perfect little face. M has these beautiful brownish green eyes, funny little elf ears that stick out like her Dad's, the most adorable nose I have ever eskimo kissed, the chubbiest cheeks I have ever pinched, and she wakes up every morning with the wildest bed head I have ever seen. I absolutely can not get enough of her.
Every day with my chunky monkey is an adventure. She makes me laugh harder than anyone ever has. When she was a few weeks old, my mother in law asked her if she had pooped because she smelled something stinky. She sticks her finger in the side of M's diaper to open it and peek inside to check for poop when M lets out the loudest and smelliest baby fart imaginable. That's what you get for calling her stinky. M loves to give us a hard time, she is constantly reminding us that she is in charge. I remember holding her when she was about a month old, I needed to go do something so I asked her if her Daddy could hold her. She was sleeping and in her sleep she opens one eye and glares at her dad for a second, then rolls her eye and closes it. It's as if she were saying "If he has to....."! M is the LOUDEST baby you will ever meet. We call her our loud talker. The dogs are now terrified of her because every morning she can't wait to get downstairs and scream at them as loud as she possibly can. It doesn't help that she usually does this while sitting in her activity seat which puts her at eye and ear level with the poor dogs. The first time I heard M laugh, I was making fart noises while playing peek a boo with her. She let out this fantastic little chuckle and didn't stop for at least 10 minutes. I laughed so hard I almost cried. Her laughs make my day. She's bossy and demanding. I am hoping this means she will take after me and know exactly what she wants out of life and never settle for less.
When M hurts, I hurt more than I ever thought possible. I hate taking her to get her shots. My husband and I took her for her 2 month shots. I made him hold her because I knew I couldn't watch. I sat behind them and was on the verge of having a meltdown the entire time. When they finished giving her what seemed like 20 shots, my husband picked her up and she stuck out her bottom lip and began to cry. All while giving me a look that let me know she blamed me. I was traumatized.
M likes to get rowdy. She's a tough little girl. She's been sleeping in a bassinet since she was 1 month old. The bassinet has a vibration box attached to it. M figured out that all she has to do is kick the vibration box and it will turn back on. All night long, we listen to her kicking and kicking and kicking. After she kicks the box, she rests her leg on top of it, daring it to turn back off. M is very strong. An hour after I had her, she was forcefully searching for my boob. She was hungry and knew where her food was. She was so strong that she pushed her way off my shoulder and down to my boob all by herself. I started to feed her and she reached up and grabbed my finger. Thanks Mom. She has also been able to hold her head up and look around since the moment she was born. Sometimes I feel like we bypassed the first few months and she was born 6 months old. She's growing so fast. Slow down Monkey!
M is now 6 months old, she has 2 adorable bottom teeth that make her grins more precious than they already were. I didn't know that was possible. I also didn't know a person could produce as much drool as my little girl does. She is 19lbs of solid perfection and while she is very heavy, I will never get tired of holding her. I can see M at 16 begging me to stop. I never will. She is 27" which means she is 6" longer than she was when she was born and that makes her like 1/2 my size already. I'm a shorty. I think she'll be tall and thin like her Dad. Not a bad thing. We're trying to teach M to roll over. She did it once when she was 3 months old and has refused to do it on her own again. She knows how to grab her bottle and put it in her mouth but can't quite tilt it high enough to get all the milk. When we try to show her how to do it she gives us a look that says "Fine, you do it" and she lets go. She is wonderfully lazy. Maybe she won't mind me holding her when she's 16 after all. I love my lazy girl.
I want M to always be happy, healthy and safe. Aside from that.. I want her to have fun and enjoy life. I want her to be whoever and whatever she wants to be. As long as she has wants and goals then she has ambition. I love her.
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