Or, sleep killer, that is. What . . . or . . . Who is a "sleep killer", you ask? My son. My son is the killer of sleep. He has efficiently and effectively snuffed any rogue Zzzz's that were managing to occasionally pay a visit to our sleep deprived abode since his arrival four and a half months ago--and he is standing guard at the front door to ensure that none return, at least any time soon.
Last week we decided to ditch our robust social schedule of yoga, play dates, classes and play groups for a more sleep-attentive one--one where I would "pay attention to his tired cues" and attempt to immediately follow with a "prenaptime or prebedtime routine". This we were trying in lieu of our previous non-method method which included Noah sleeping wherever we happen to be whenever the mood of sleep may strike him as we had been doing with lukewarm success. Some days this worked quite well while others it didn't.
The results of our sleep experiment of sorts, however, failed to bring the rewards of rest we were anticipating. Instead it brought Noah no closer to naps or nighttime sleep than before and created an incredibly frustrated and interaction-deprived mommy. We are returning to our social schedule--we must, or else mommy will have to join the league of cuckoos at an institution with padded walls and drooling babblers--and we are crossing our fingers that Noey Finn one day finds the gentle folds of sleep as appealing as mommy and daddy do. In the meantime, on we trek down the dense woozy path of sleep deprivation--seeking a cozy cottage somewhere in a clearing hopefully up ahead where babies and their parents sleep all night and even perhaps nap during the day.
5.09.2009
4.29.2009
Nursery Nooks, Pedicures and Furniture Indecision.
As the days billow over from April and frolic into the springy folds of May, our days are speeding by with enthusiastic force. Dean is nestling cozily into his new gig as Noah and I fill our days with Itsy Bitsy Yoga, dancing to "Reggae Playground", attending "Babies On Blankets Wednesdays" and getting pedicures. Wait . . . pedicures, you ask? Okay, yes, it's a recently rediscovered pleasure that I engaged in with two other mommy-friends after our Tuesday "Mommy & Me" class this week. With babies in carriers strapped to our torsos, the three of us entertained and nursed our wee ones whilst we indulged in a delicious hot stone leg massage and toenail polishing foot pampering session. I will hold the memory of the hot, smooth rocks against my flabby and flaccid postpartum calf muscles near and dear to my heart's memory--it may possibly be the last time I take part in such a sinfully delicious act of self indulgence until Noah says his first word.
If you have recently viewed our Flickr photo site you will have seen a picture of Dean and I sitting on a love seat on the sidewalk. The photo's caption tells of a decision that Dean and I made to dispose of the old couch (the first piece of furniture that we ever purchased together--almost 8 years ago) in order to make room for Noah's play nook. At approximately midnight, my friend Candice aided Dean and I in hauling the small sofa from our living room to the curb where it was to be either ransacked by bums for the cushions (they use them for sleeping) or salvaged by thrifty hipsters. But--it didn't quite end with either of those scenarios. I uncomfortably wandered around the living room after its absence convincing myself that the aesthetic void its disposal had created was a small sacrifice for the play area that was to be created for little Noah. The next morning's light brought with it, however, the glaring realization that our living room looked haphazardly arranged and stark without it. With all of the furniture pushed to the outer perimeter of the huge room, it appeared as if we had just moved in as opposed to cozily habitating it for the last four years. So that afternoon, while Dean was at work, Noah and I mustered up enough courage to mosey out to the curb and see if our seat of love was still there, and if so, still intact. It was there--waiting for us to reclaim it and return it to its loving home. Noah and I pleaded with a neighbor to help us haul it back inside. So, now it sits where it used to. With the piano moved to another wall and a bookshelf relocated to the dining room, we've comfortably made a spot for Noah's nook in a sunny corner of our living room . . . right beside the love seat.
If you have recently viewed our Flickr photo site you will have seen a picture of Dean and I sitting on a love seat on the sidewalk. The photo's caption tells of a decision that Dean and I made to dispose of the old couch (the first piece of furniture that we ever purchased together--almost 8 years ago) in order to make room for Noah's play nook. At approximately midnight, my friend Candice aided Dean and I in hauling the small sofa from our living room to the curb where it was to be either ransacked by bums for the cushions (they use them for sleeping) or salvaged by thrifty hipsters. But--it didn't quite end with either of those scenarios. I uncomfortably wandered around the living room after its absence convincing myself that the aesthetic void its disposal had created was a small sacrifice for the play area that was to be created for little Noah. The next morning's light brought with it, however, the glaring realization that our living room looked haphazardly arranged and stark without it. With all of the furniture pushed to the outer perimeter of the huge room, it appeared as if we had just moved in as opposed to cozily habitating it for the last four years. So that afternoon, while Dean was at work, Noah and I mustered up enough courage to mosey out to the curb and see if our seat of love was still there, and if so, still intact. It was there--waiting for us to reclaim it and return it to its loving home. Noah and I pleaded with a neighbor to help us haul it back inside. So, now it sits where it used to. With the piano moved to another wall and a bookshelf relocated to the dining room, we've comfortably made a spot for Noah's nook in a sunny corner of our living room . . . right beside the love seat.
4.17.2009
You Know You're A New Daddy When . . .
- your ipod playlist includes Baby Einstein animal friends playtime classics
- your jogging buddy gets to sleep while you do all of the work
- you're shocked to find yourself discussing sleep strategies with other men
- you can't remember the days when your wife's breast were something other than baby feed bags
- you get downgraded to the old station wagon for your daily commute while the wife and carseat crooner get the newer ride
- women swarm to you like bees to honey (even if it's only because you're holding a baby)
- you read more baby gadget instruction manuals than books these days
- you find yourself showing cell phone pictures of junior to everyone you meet
- you discover that that lump under your pillow is a dirty breast pad
- your tallying the days since you last had sex like ticks on the wall of a jail cell
- sleep is something you used to remember doing
- you swear that you always have unfastened snaps on baby's onesie because they make them with "extra" snaps
- you can change a diaper one-handed, in the dark, with one eye closed faster than a speeding bullet
- you find yourself hiding the postpartum granny panties while folding laundry in hopes that they'll forever disappear
4.11.2009
You Know You're A New Mommy When . . .
- your favorite local public radio station has been replaced with Coldplay renditions of lullabies and muzak versions of nursery rhymes (and unfortunately, he likes the muzac nursery rhymes best)
- you discover the "tiny tot trio" (dried slobber, spit up and poop) on your favorite "dry clean only" sweater AFTER you've arrived at your destination
- you notice your bouncing the bag of apples on your hip as you wait in the grocery store check out line
- your pillow is an exotic vacation destination you'd love to visit one day
- you are lucky if you get one shower a day--and NEVER get two
- you host your first "PG-rated" party ever--a BBQ in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday at a park featuring other couples with kids . . . and it's your 30th birthday
- your cuticles have grown over your fingernails
- your milk-stained nursing bra is your sexiest piece of lingerie
- "mommy and daddy time" means falling asleep on the couch together
- you've purchased so much under-eye concealer that the makeup counter lady knows you by first name and your credit card number by heart
- you can only identify that lady you met last week by the name of her kid
- a wild Saturday night means managing to stay awake long enough to catch the opening monologue of "Saturday Night Live"
- you truly consider doing chores while dad watches the baby taking a break
- you discover that breast pads double perfectly as drink coasters
4.09.2009
Putting Information Behind the Immunization Ouch.
Okay, your child may not agree that reading up on vaccination schedules will make getting the vaccine hurt any less--let's be honest, shots hurt. And, for many parents getting their child immunized is downright painful for them too . . . but it doesn't have to be.
On March 31st, Noah received his first round of vaccinations. Vaccinations are scary. We've heard first-hand and read second-hand accounts of children suffering life-long disabilities from receiving vaccinations, as well as, children who have fallen ill because they haven't. As with many decisions that parents must make for their children, this one was extremely difficult.
As the vaccine debacle rages on, we were committed to finding a comfortable compromise between the dogmatic medical community's perspective and that of those who support a more natural approach to vaccinating children. Dr. Robert Sear's alternative vaccination schedule published in his book, "The Vaccine Book: Making the Right Decision for your Child" shone for us like a beacon of hope in this dreary debate. His schedule allows you to receive fewer vaccinations at each infant checkup by spreading out the shots out over a longer period of time and preventing your child from being exposed to so many nasty toxins all at once.
The "standard" two-month check-up, for example, crams in five, yes, five (!) vaccinations for immunization from all of the following really scary things: diptheria, tetanus, pertussis, haemophilus influenzae, polio, hepititus B and pneumococcal. On the other, more gentler hand, our pediatrician, who was more than willing to meet us middle way, gave Noah two vaccinations at this appointment instead. We'll return next month for the next few.
While this alternative schedule may not be for everyone--after all you do end up spending a little more time at the Doctor's office--we appreciate the peace of mind that a subtler approach brings to this unnecessarily invasive "growing pain". So, for those of you who may be currently wrangling with the decision yourself or who might be thinking of having children, we encourage you to give the vaccination issue some thought and a little research--just put a little info. behind that ouch. Even if you decide to not deviate from the American Academy of Pediatrics' standard vaccination schedule, at least you will have made an informed decision . . . and though our little ones can't escape the ouch that a shot can bring, they at least deserve an informed ouch.
On March 31st, Noah received his first round of vaccinations. Vaccinations are scary. We've heard first-hand and read second-hand accounts of children suffering life-long disabilities from receiving vaccinations, as well as, children who have fallen ill because they haven't. As with many decisions that parents must make for their children, this one was extremely difficult.
As the vaccine debacle rages on, we were committed to finding a comfortable compromise between the dogmatic medical community's perspective and that of those who support a more natural approach to vaccinating children. Dr. Robert Sear's alternative vaccination schedule published in his book, "The Vaccine Book: Making the Right Decision for your Child" shone for us like a beacon of hope in this dreary debate. His schedule allows you to receive fewer vaccinations at each infant checkup by spreading out the shots out over a longer period of time and preventing your child from being exposed to so many nasty toxins all at once.
The "standard" two-month check-up, for example, crams in five, yes, five (!) vaccinations for immunization from all of the following really scary things: diptheria, tetanus, pertussis, haemophilus influenzae, polio, hepititus B and pneumococcal. On the other, more gentler hand, our pediatrician, who was more than willing to meet us middle way, gave Noah two vaccinations at this appointment instead. We'll return next month for the next few.
While this alternative schedule may not be for everyone--after all you do end up spending a little more time at the Doctor's office--we appreciate the peace of mind that a subtler approach brings to this unnecessarily invasive "growing pain". So, for those of you who may be currently wrangling with the decision yourself or who might be thinking of having children, we encourage you to give the vaccination issue some thought and a little research--just put a little info. behind that ouch. Even if you decide to not deviate from the American Academy of Pediatrics' standard vaccination schedule, at least you will have made an informed decision . . . and though our little ones can't escape the ouch that a shot can bring, they at least deserve an informed ouch.
4.08.2009
Spring Has Sprung.
Spring has arrived and with it horrible allergies for me and sensory overload for Noah Finn during our daily park visits--as he watches the squirrels, birds, butterflies and other children play with enrapturing fascination. You just can't beat mother nature when she's at her burgeoning best--bursting with the vivid colors and crispness that life's beginning brings.
Aside from daily park visits and grassy picnics, Noah has been experiencing his first spring from the comfy cushy chair of his new jogging stroller. In order to give me some "mommy time", Dean has been taking over "Operation Noah Watch" in the mornings several hours before he leaves for work while I do whatever . . . shower, sleep, chores. Before Noah Finn made his grand appearance, Dean used to run every morning in a park close to our house--but the frequency of these pavement pounding a.m. escapades has been sporadic at best over the last few months. Now, with the addition of our three-wheeled-rubber-tired baby running machine, Dean is able to once again hit the trails daily with the little jammie-clad tike in tow. And so far, Noah Finn loves it!
Last Friday, Owen and Annaliisa paid us a visit. Just like our pre-baby days, Ani and I couldn't keep ourselves from a good shopping dose. But, unlike our pre-baby days, this time we had babies in tow--which made for lots of nursing sessions in dressing rooms and the parking garage, finagling bulky buggies through Friday night crowds and tightly packed clothing racks, one-handed size searching, shushing screams and returning scornful stares from strangers and a very late dinner sans martinis that, of course, included dessert! Oh how those shopping days of old are gone . . . and even though our purchases were rather small--two sale shirts for Ani and several pair of socks for Noah and I--I'm pretty sure neither of us would trade that beautiful Friday night for any other. It was a blast--just with babies this time.
Aside from daily park visits and grassy picnics, Noah has been experiencing his first spring from the comfy cushy chair of his new jogging stroller. In order to give me some "mommy time", Dean has been taking over "Operation Noah Watch" in the mornings several hours before he leaves for work while I do whatever . . . shower, sleep, chores. Before Noah Finn made his grand appearance, Dean used to run every morning in a park close to our house--but the frequency of these pavement pounding a.m. escapades has been sporadic at best over the last few months. Now, with the addition of our three-wheeled-rubber-tired baby running machine, Dean is able to once again hit the trails daily with the little jammie-clad tike in tow. And so far, Noah Finn loves it!
Last Friday, Owen and Annaliisa paid us a visit. Just like our pre-baby days, Ani and I couldn't keep ourselves from a good shopping dose. But, unlike our pre-baby days, this time we had babies in tow--which made for lots of nursing sessions in dressing rooms and the parking garage, finagling bulky buggies through Friday night crowds and tightly packed clothing racks, one-handed size searching, shushing screams and returning scornful stares from strangers and a very late dinner sans martinis that, of course, included dessert! Oh how those shopping days of old are gone . . . and even though our purchases were rather small--two sale shirts for Ani and several pair of socks for Noah and I--I'm pretty sure neither of us would trade that beautiful Friday night for any other. It was a blast--just with babies this time.
3.30.2009
Home Sweet Sweet Home.
After two weeks of visiting great grandparents and grandparents, great aunts and uncles and a plethora of cousins on the east coast, Noah and I are nestling back into our southern California rhythm.
The visit was eventful and enjoyable and while we were gone, Noah made several developmental leaps and bounds--he can now reach for, grab, hold and pull things to his mouth and has expanded his squeaks, squeals and squawks sound library. A lonely daddy and pair of kitty cats called several times a day while we were gone and greeted us eagerly at the airport after a long but delightful flight with flowers, kisses and smiles--and since our plane landed, we have hit the pavement running.
Saturday, we trekked out to the high desert to visit Annaliisa, Drew and Owen at her parent's place in Acton. We hadn't seen baby Owen for several months and it was incredible to see how much he had grown. Noah and his first little friend posed for pictures, held hands, pooped and nursed the visit away.
Yesterday, our friend Sara urged us to take some baby gear off of her hands until she had a need for it again. Due to our own case of baby gadget overload, we at first resisted . . . that is until we spied a bouncer seat similar to one Owen had that Noah enjoyed during our visit. After Noah took it for a sucessful test spin, we quickly threw decorative caution to the wind and greedily agreed to temporary ownership of the seat in anticipation of several moments of arm-free-of-baby bliss. We've recently learned, anyway, that baby happiness equals parental unit happiness, therefore, a successful hushing toy trumps aesthetics. The more tacky, okay that's not nice, garish, alright that's a little harsh too--flashy?--a toy is, the more junior likes it. So welcome little rainbow colored, blue light flashing, monkey moving rain forest chair, welcome.
The visit was eventful and enjoyable and while we were gone, Noah made several developmental leaps and bounds--he can now reach for, grab, hold and pull things to his mouth and has expanded his squeaks, squeals and squawks sound library. A lonely daddy and pair of kitty cats called several times a day while we were gone and greeted us eagerly at the airport after a long but delightful flight with flowers, kisses and smiles--and since our plane landed, we have hit the pavement running.
Saturday, we trekked out to the high desert to visit Annaliisa, Drew and Owen at her parent's place in Acton. We hadn't seen baby Owen for several months and it was incredible to see how much he had grown. Noah and his first little friend posed for pictures, held hands, pooped and nursed the visit away.
Yesterday, our friend Sara urged us to take some baby gear off of her hands until she had a need for it again. Due to our own case of baby gadget overload, we at first resisted . . . that is until we spied a bouncer seat similar to one Owen had that Noah enjoyed during our visit. After Noah took it for a sucessful test spin, we quickly threw decorative caution to the wind and greedily agreed to temporary ownership of the seat in anticipation of several moments of arm-free-of-baby bliss. We've recently learned, anyway, that baby happiness equals parental unit happiness, therefore, a successful hushing toy trumps aesthetics. The more tacky, okay that's not nice, garish, alright that's a little harsh too--flashy?--a toy is, the more junior likes it. So welcome little rainbow colored, blue light flashing, monkey moving rain forest chair, welcome.
3.17.2009
Cordless In Carolina.
Greetings Fans, Followers and Readers,
I remembered the camera. I remembered the camera charger. I forgot the cord that connects the camera to the computer needed to transfer pictures to Flickr--and the camera's full of fun snap shots that poor Daddy back home in sunny socal is dying to see.
I think we're going to buy one while we're here. So fear not, all of the pictures of family and Finn that you can simply stand will be posted . . . well, in a few days I'm sure.
I remembered the camera. I remembered the camera charger. I forgot the cord that connects the camera to the computer needed to transfer pictures to Flickr--and the camera's full of fun snap shots that poor Daddy back home in sunny socal is dying to see.
I think we're going to buy one while we're here. So fear not, all of the pictures of family and Finn that you can simply stand will be posted . . . well, in a few days I'm sure.
3.09.2009
Noah's Growing Arc.
If you were planning to give step stools and seat belt extenders to Noah Finn for his three month birthday, you better have kept your receipt. Today was his two month check up and according to Dr. Zabari, he is perfectly proportional and just where he should be on the growth charts. Noah's latest stats at 11 weeks old: 11.14 lbs., 25 inches.
My how fast they grow. Little babies truly are amazingly mind-blowing--in the best possible way. They grow and change simply before your eyes. Dean and I swear that Noah has sprouted an inch and gained several ounces every time he wakes from a nap. It's true that they poop a lot, burp a lot, cost a lot and cry from time to time, but these seemingly pesky qualities really aren't so bad, after all--because they fall in among all of the incredible millions of other little things that go along with caring for a baby that are just simply amazing. Like . . . grasping and holding a toy, laughing, giggling, gooing and cooing, rolling over, studying a bird in a nearby tree or the nose on daddy's face, kicking and splashing in the bathtub, responding to mommy's voice . . . and doing them all for the very first time. You can see the little wheels of his young mind turning and churning, working hard to move his fist towards his mouth for a suck-fest, straining to create the look of utter concentration he wears when pooping and the glow of relief when it's successfully been dumped in the diaper.
Grandma and Grandpa Nelson just caught a glimpse of it all while visiting us for the last week and a half and the rest of our families at home in North Carolina will be able to relish in the sweet and rapid changes in our little Noah Finn beginning this Wednesday through the end of March. During that time, I am not sure how much blogging we'll be doing, but you can bet we'll still be regularly posting pictures to our flickr photo album.
My how fast they grow. Little babies truly are amazingly mind-blowing--in the best possible way. They grow and change simply before your eyes. Dean and I swear that Noah has sprouted an inch and gained several ounces every time he wakes from a nap. It's true that they poop a lot, burp a lot, cost a lot and cry from time to time, but these seemingly pesky qualities really aren't so bad, after all--because they fall in among all of the incredible millions of other little things that go along with caring for a baby that are just simply amazing. Like . . . grasping and holding a toy, laughing, giggling, gooing and cooing, rolling over, studying a bird in a nearby tree or the nose on daddy's face, kicking and splashing in the bathtub, responding to mommy's voice . . . and doing them all for the very first time. You can see the little wheels of his young mind turning and churning, working hard to move his fist towards his mouth for a suck-fest, straining to create the look of utter concentration he wears when pooping and the glow of relief when it's successfully been dumped in the diaper.
Grandma and Grandpa Nelson just caught a glimpse of it all while visiting us for the last week and a half and the rest of our families at home in North Carolina will be able to relish in the sweet and rapid changes in our little Noah Finn beginning this Wednesday through the end of March. During that time, I am not sure how much blogging we'll be doing, but you can bet we'll still be regularly posting pictures to our flickr photo album.
2.25.2009
Rock 'N' Stroll.
Yesterday I discovered that Noah Finn does not share his mother's affinity for public radio. Classic rock it seems, is more his thing. While driving the short distance between Target, the park for a playdate, and our home, there was no classical station to be found and I had left all of the classical compilation cds that daddy had made for Noah at home. The only thing found on the radio dial to soothe the screaming beast in the backseat was Led Zeppelin--nada to mariachi, nada to alternative rock, nada to slow jams. Only the rockin' rhythms of Bob Seger and Fleetwood Mac calmed my mighty car seat crooner. I truly don't mind a nostalgic trip down bygone decades' memory lane, but several stoplights of The Eagles while I could be indulging in the stimulating intellectual acrobatics that only accompanies a good dose of "All Things Considered" seems detrimental to my mental health--but then again, so does a screaming baby. So, Ms. Stevie Nicks, we welcome you with open arms to the Surette-Nelson mobile.
In other Noah news, Noah Finn is making more friends than Mr. Rogers due to the rigorous social calendar that we have been keeping. Really, it's no more than an outing or so a day that has us meeting and mingling with other "grown-up talk" deprived mommies and their little spawns. The L.A. M.I.L.K.s. has turned out to be a great group of moms. Last weekend I ventured out for my first "mommy's night out". Despite mediocre Chinese food at an even more questionable dining establishment in Chinatown, pumping a bottle of breast milk for Dean and Noah while I indulged in some mommy-to-mommy face time amidst sweet and sour soup and stale cookies of fortune was just what the Dr. ordered. Weekly walks, playdates and other pint-sized adventures have forced us to practice getting out of the house at a specific time--which is harder than it sounds for those who have never had to do it.
So, if it seems that all things in babyland lately are sunny and splendid, well they are. For the most part, we have moseyed on by the dark days of blog postings past. Dean and I have been continuing to experiment in an effort to find what's right for us and little Noah Finn. I guess it's just a matter of getting over mental hurdles--the hurdle that makes it difficult to accept that you are on your little one's schedule or "not-schedule" now--your time is no longer your own. Once that revelation is realized and embraced, life with baby it seems is sweet.
In other Noah news, Noah Finn is making more friends than Mr. Rogers due to the rigorous social calendar that we have been keeping. Really, it's no more than an outing or so a day that has us meeting and mingling with other "grown-up talk" deprived mommies and their little spawns. The L.A. M.I.L.K.s. has turned out to be a great group of moms. Last weekend I ventured out for my first "mommy's night out". Despite mediocre Chinese food at an even more questionable dining establishment in Chinatown, pumping a bottle of breast milk for Dean and Noah while I indulged in some mommy-to-mommy face time amidst sweet and sour soup and stale cookies of fortune was just what the Dr. ordered. Weekly walks, playdates and other pint-sized adventures have forced us to practice getting out of the house at a specific time--which is harder than it sounds for those who have never had to do it.
So, if it seems that all things in babyland lately are sunny and splendid, well they are. For the most part, we have moseyed on by the dark days of blog postings past. Dean and I have been continuing to experiment in an effort to find what's right for us and little Noah Finn. I guess it's just a matter of getting over mental hurdles--the hurdle that makes it difficult to accept that you are on your little one's schedule or "not-schedule" now--your time is no longer your own. Once that revelation is realized and embraced, life with baby it seems is sweet.
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