Cutie Baby

Okay, I know I'm biased- but my Gabriel Clark is too cute!  Check out some of the photographer's favorites from our newest photo shoot with the talented Heather at Shugar-Shots Photography!

P.S.- How can you NOT love his crazy red hair??

Forgotten Birthday

When I am awake in the middle of the night, feeding the babe, I often think about my dear blog.  I think about things to write about (other than that sweet child-o-mine), and get excited to find the time to do just that.

And then I forget.

The days, which are punctuated by many-a-feeding, seem to fly by, without leaving me any time to sit and write, and before you know it, the great idea I had is filed away so deep in my brain that I cannot quite put my fingers on it.

As I was looking around the house for inspiration today, I saw beautiful hyacinth in a vase on the counter.  I saw my (pitiful) basketball tournament bracket on the fridge.  I saw a letter from the school district, informing me of my terminating contract.  And that's when it hit me...I've written about all of these things before...last March!

My blog turned one, and I didn't even recognize it!

I am so sorry, dear blog, for my extended absence, and for forgetting your most momentous birthday.

I hope to make it up to you with numerous posts, very soon!!

Love,
Me

Gabe- Weeks 2 and 3

Poor, poor, neglected blog.  Turns out, being a mommy to a newborn is pretty time consuming!

Here's the low-down on the last couple of weeks.


Q: How are you feeling?
A: Although I know it's not at all about me anymore, I get this question a lot.   I am happy to report that I am feeling great!  About 95% back to normal.  (All of you preggers that read my blog, get ready to hate...)  I am down 20 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight, and was easily back into my old clothes by week 2.  I have been out and about with Gabe frequently.  It's very hard to believe that a few short weeks ago, I was pregnant and miserable!


Q: How is the boy?
A: Mr. Gabriel is fantastic.  He is feeding very well, and as of this morning, back to his birth weight.  The doctor (whom I adore) has proclaimed perfection all around.  Aside from a little baby acne (my poor little pizza-faced son), Gabe is the picture of health.


Q: How is the sleeping?
A: Not too bad, actually!  Most nights, Gabe wakes up to eat about every three hours.  He eats for about 20 minutes, then is immediately back to sleep (most mornings until after 9:00!).  We have the occasional rough night where he only makes it two hours between feedings, but he makes up for it with the occasional night where four or five hours pass between feedings.  Since the little man refused to sleep in his cradle in our bedroom, he has now been moved into his crib in his very own bedroom.  (This was after sleeping in the bed with me and J for the first three weeks.)  Although I cried and cried the first night, I am now over it.  He seems to actually enjoy being in there, and admittedly, we are all sleeping better this way.


Q: Are you settling into a routine?
A: The short answer is no.  Gabe runs the show these days, and it's a newborn's prerogative to change his mind about everything, every day.  But there are a few things that we can count on.  After waking up, we have a little sponge bath and shampoo in J's sink (since that damn cord refuses to fall off, and we can't do an actual tub bath until it does).  Gabe's full head of hair (which appears to be turning a bit gingery, by the way) necessitates a daily shampoo!  We then get dressed (my favorite part) and play for a few hours in the morning.  I can usually count on a sleepy baby in the afternoon, so this is when I run errands- the car ride (even from here to the grocery store) is SURE to knock him out if he isn't already sleeping- or do housework.  The evenings seem to be Gabe's ravenously hungry time- he wants to eat every hour or so from about 5pm-10pm.  Exhausting, yes.  But this helps him sleep at night, which I am ALL FOR.  Then it's bed time.  This all sounds good, yes.  But any of this could change on a daily basis!  I expect more of a routine to be in place in a few weeks.

Q: What's your favorite thing about parenthood so far?
A: I simply cannot believe the heart's capacity to love this much.  The love I feel for Gabriel is so tremendous that words truly cannot accurately describe it.  And the love I feel for J, which I didn't think could possibly be any greater, has doubled as I watch him interact with his son.  We are a family, and the joy that brings is beyond words.

Now for the pictures...

Tummy Time

In the swing for the first time.

Gabe's favorite way to spend a Saturday morning.

Our first family photo- does it make us bad parents if this was taken at a bar?

My sweet pumpkin pie.

Baby Burrito in bed between Mommy and Daddy.

My two favorite boys.

Mommy and Baby.

Learning about video games.

Trying a bottle for the first time- turns out Gabe will take Mama's milk no matter how he can get it!

   

Gabe- The First Week

At some point, my life will return to "normal."  Or, at least, my new normal.  The blog will most certainly be neglected until that time, but at the very least, since I no longer have updates from the peanut gallery, I'll try and provide a new type of update- about my cutie little baby!

So far, being home with Gabe has been amazing.  I can't believe how much J and I love him already.  It's incredible how this tiny person has been growing inside me for the last nine months, and now he's just here with us, turning our world upside down in the best possible way.

So far, here is what we know about little Mr. Anderson:

He is a cuddler.  See evidence below.

He likes to have his hands by his face.  Especially when he's sleeping.

He loves having his hair washed- which is a good thing, because he has A LOT of it, and it gets very greasy by each day's end.

He enjoys being strapped into the car seat and/or bouncy seat.

He does NOT generally enjoy being naked.

We're still learning every day, and look forward to every minute we get to spend with our little man.

From the Peanut Gallery- The Final Post

As it turns out, we skipped these:

39 weeks- The Mini Watermelon

40 weeks- The Pumpkin

Because little Mr. Anderson is here.

Last week, I told J that we needed to make plans for the weekend.  I told him that if I had to just sit around and wait for the baby to come, I would drive myself CRAZY.  So we made plans to see a movie, have dinner with friends, and enjoy some lazy time together.  The school where I used to teach was also having their annual Spaghetti Dinner, so we decided to dine there Friday night and visit with some of my old friends and co-workers.

When we walked (and/or waddled) into the school, I was immediately met with jokes about how I was going to have this baby any second!  I joked that maybe there was enough red pepper in the sauce to throw me into labor.  LOTS of people kept asking when I was due- it was delightful to reply "any day now!"

We enjoyed our spaghetti and chatted with lots of folks, then headed home and went to bed.

Maybe there is something to those old wives tales about the full moon...

At 10:30 that night, I woke up feeling a little crampy.  This was definitely a different kinda feeling, but I ignored it and went back to sleep.  After all, two days prior to this the doctor had told me that I most likely still had awhile to go, as I had made zero progress.  We even went so far as to schedule an induction for March 3, just in case.

Midnight rolled around, and I was again awakened by a weird, crampy feeling...I started getting suspicious.  But I went back to sleep again.  I really didn't want to get my hopes up.

Then at 2:00, I woke up yet again.  At this point, I knew I was having contractions.  I still didn't wake J up, however, as I thought this might be a trick, and not the real thing.  He woke up on his own, though, and noticed that I wasn't sleeping.  I told him that I was having contractions, and that's when the real fun began.

We started timing my contractions.  At this point, they were anywhere from five to ten minutes apart, definitely annoying, but not unbearably painful.  I was most certainly not able to sleep through them anymore, and J was on the alert and not sleeping, either.  So we did what any normal couple in labor would do: we turned on a movie.  We watched "Beauty and the Beast" while I breathed through contractions.

Around 5:00, I told J to get some more sleep.  At this point, I knew this was the real deal, and he was definitely going to need the rest.  He managed to doze off for another hour while I went downstairs and handled the dogs' morning routine.  Contractions had now gotten quite a bit stronger, and were three to four minutes apart, lasting about 30 seconds.

Fast forward to 7:00- J is off to McDonald's to grab some breakfast for us.  (Just for the record, I threw up my McGriddle, so yes, I officially threw up through my ENTIRE pregnancy.)  After we ate, we decided to gather our things for the hospital.  We both showered and got ourselves together, then went for a walk around the neighborhood, trying to encourage my contractions to become a little more regular.  We made it about one-third of the way through our normal route before we had to turn around and head home.  My contractions were suddenly a minute and a half to two minutes apart, and I could no longer walk or talk through them due to the pain.

When we made it home, J called the doctor.  For some reason, I was hung up on the fact that my contractions weren't lasting a full minute.  The rule of thumb for going to the hospital is usually 4-1-1.  Contractions 4 minutes apart, lasting for a full minute, for at least one full hour.  Luckily J insisted on making the call.  Of course, we were told to head to the hospital.

The car ride there was when things got real.  As in, excruciating.  Walking from the entrance of the hospital to my room took a good ten minutes, as I had to stop every other minute and try not to fall over from the pain.  I was certain that when the nurse checked me, after contracting since 10:30 the night before, and considering the frequency and intensity of said contractions, I would be dilated several centimeters.

One centimeter.  That's what that bitch told me.

Originally, my plan was to try and do this thing drug-free for as long as I could stand it, and hope that I could make it all the way to the end.  J was instructed to try and talk me out of it if I asked for drugs, at least at first.

But one freaking centimeter?  After 12 hours of labor?  No thank you.

I looked at J and told him I was getting the epidural, and not to even think about trying to talk me out of it.

"Oh, thank God!" was his response.  My wonderful husband was feeling completely helpless as he tried whatever he could to comfort and help me through all of the horrible contractions.

Unfortunately, the epidural had to wait until I had made some more progress.  So for the next five hours, I labored.  And progressed.  And tried not to die.

At 3:30, I got my epidural.

Oh, how I love that anesthesiologist.

About ten minutes after I got the good stuff, I looked at J and said "I'm so happy!"  Labor became a whole new experience.  I no longer felt any pain.  I could relax and get excited about meeting my son.  J and I hung out, watched "The Golden Girls," Facebooked on our phones, even napped a little.  At this point, we were just waiting.

Around 11:30, it was time to push.  Apparently, according to my Labor & Delivery nurse, I am an excellent pusher.

And so it was that at 11:47, my perfect, beautiful little Gabriel Clark Anderson was born.

Gabriel Clark Anderson- 2.19.11- 8 lbs 6 oz- 20 inches

And I am in love.

Bird Odditites of the South

Before you all begin reading, I want to record to reflect that today, I am not posting about baby or fashion!  It's a bit of a miracle.  But yes, I am posting about birds.

Doesn't get much more random than that, folks.

This morning on my way into work, I saw a gaggle flock school fleet covey of quail.  In someone's front yard.  Not fenced in, not kept as pets.  Just birds, hangin' out.  (They run like chickens, by the way...with the whole head bob thing.  Now you know.)  I do believe that this is the first time I've ever seen quail!  It's certainly the first time I've seen them in a group, gallivanting around a random residence.

I just found this to be such a random occurrence.  I don't recall seeing things like this in Ohio!  (But then again, I always lived in Ohio Suburbia...here, my commute into work is a little more country, and a little less rock n' roll.)  I DO, however, recall several other weird bird sightings I've had since moving to the good ole' south.  Here are a few of my favorites.

The Wild Turkey

Now this guy I've seen on multiple occasions.  I've seen him in yards, I've seen him in fields, and I've even seen him on the side of the highway.  I'm always amazed at his size...he's a HUGE bird!  And I'm always amazed that there's a turkey, just standing there on the side of the road.  A TURKEY.  Maybe I'm easily amused.  So be it.

The White Peacock

This one has very little to do with the south, and much more to do with some family's oddness.  (Come to think of it, maybe the two go hand in hand?)  There is a blue house that I passed every morning on my way to my last job.  The owners of this home kept several white peacocks, I guess as pets?  (I find this hard to believe, as I happen to know from personal experience that peacocks are not very nice, and they will definitely bite.)  Some mornings as I drove past, there they would be, perched in a line along the rails of the front porch.  Once I saw them lined up on top of the roof.  Other times, they would just be milling about.  Beautiful birds?  Yes.  Warm and cuddly pets?  Certainly not.

And, my VERY favorite...

The Yard Chicken

Here in the south, many, many families have what I like to call yard chickens.  Northern folks, don't get confused.  Yard chickens are not found merely on farms.  They can be found in any residential yard that is not part of an HOA.  (Or maybe the HOAs here allow for yard chickens?)  I'm not exactly sure of the purpose of the yard chicken.  Maybe folks keep them for their eggs?  Maybe they butcher and eat them?  Maybe they are just kept as pets?  Whatever their reason for being, I just LOVE to see the yard chickens.  If ever we are in the car and drive past a yard where chickens are running amok, I must yell out "YARD CHICKENS!" as I press my face against the glass and point.  I'm certain that J is no longer amused.

I tried to talk my friend Kim into getting herself a couple, as she has a HUGE backyard and no other pets.  I wanted to name them Dolce and Gabbana.  Sadly, she refused.  I'd get a couple myself if I didn't think my dogs would eat them (or that J would kill me).

So there you have it.  My most memorable bird-related moments.

I warned you- it doesn't get much more random than this, folks. 

Grammy Fashion Recap

The Grammy Awards are a different sort of night...less class, more pizazz.  (Wow, that may be the very first time I've used the word pizazz- and I'm not sure I like it.)  The attire is more frivolous and fun, and much less formal.  Now I happen to L.O.V.E. the formal, but the Grammys are definitely a fun distraction from the rest of the award season!

Onto the best and worst of the night.

BEST DRESSED: 

Jenna Ushkowitz (from Glee) wearing Pamela Dennis.  Definitely not your every day dress, but oh-so-fun for the Grammys.

Jennifer Hudson in Versace.  She just looks smokin'.  Her body has never looked more incredible. 

Hands down my favorite of the night!  Jennifer Lopez in Pucci.  Now THIS is how to dress for the Grammys.  And by the by, I couldn't possibly covet those shoes more.

    

WORST DRESSED:

Rihanna in Jean-Paul Gaultier.  I can't decide if this dress reminds me more of tacky, white Christmas tinsel that you might find on a pink faux tree, or those cheap plastic "leis" that you might find at a child's luau-themed birthday bash.  Either way, ick.

Katy Perry in Armani, with feathered wings by Mother Plucker.  I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Nicki Minaj in Givenchy.  Now I'm not going to pretend that I am cool enough to know who this person is, but I definitely have enough sense to know too much leopard when I see it.  And the hair?  Yikes.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Normally, I ignore the men, as at these shows, a tux is a suit is a tux.  But at the Grammys, men play by no such rules.  And while many men managed to look fabulous in their more casual attire, one man failed the test.  In a BIG way.

Ricky Martin, in pants by an an unknown designer.  (Maybe I couldn't find mention of the designer because he is ashamed of what he created?)  Oh, Ricky.  I understand that you are finally out and proud, and I couldn't be happier for you!  But that is NO EXCUSE for skin tight, shiny, silver pants.