candy anyone?

I just realized that I forgot to write about Emma's first trip to the Emergency room a few weeks back. I got sidetracked by other issues.

Sarah, Emma and I were sitting on the couch watching TV just before bedtime. I was playing on my laptop while they sat next to me finishing up some Halloween candy. I can't remember what Sarah was eating, but Emma had a roll of Smarties and was gingerly nibbling the edges of them, one by one. Emma starts fussing and Sarah yells, she's got an M & M up her nose. I threw the laptop to the ground and grab Emma and try to look up her nose. All the while, asking her "did you put something up your nose". She just started crying (I probably scared her to death) and wouldn't answer me. Pat jumped off of his couch and got a flashlight. WE laid her down, and then I saw it. A rounded edge of a yellow Smartie was clearly evident just beyond the main cavity of her left nostril. Pat asked if I was sure it wasn't an M&M. I have no idea where Sarah got that idea from, maybe she was eating the M&M's but Emma was definitely eating Smarties.

I scooped up Emma, grabbed my shoes, wallet & keys and headed out the door. Thankfully, we live half a mile from the hospital. In retrospect, I 'm sure I could have handled this at home, but I panicked and didn't want to make it worse. She was crying pretty bad at this point and giving me looks that made it seem as if it were burning the inside of her nose.

I got to the ER and we ended up having to wait for what seemed FOREVER before they even talked to us to find out what the problem was. Eventually, the called us to the desk and we gave them the scenario and Emma got her pretty green and white bracelets. by the time we sat back down to wait some more to be seen, Emma had stopped crying. I think that all the tears and snot melted the bugger away on their own.

The nurse called us into the Pediatric wind and got us situated. I turned on some TV for Emma and she sat calmly on the bed. They took her vitals and then the doctor came in. She was great, her bedside manner was wonderful. We laughed about the candy and I told her that I think it had already melted away. She took a look and asked me if I knew what color the candy was. I told her yellow, she responded, "Yep, sure is!"

We laid Emma down and she used a long swab to scoop out what was in there...bright yellow goop. Then she used a saline was to rinse things out. Emma did not like that at all. But, she recovered quickly. We picked out a sticker and were discharged.

the whole time we were there, I was texting Pat with updates. He was telling me that Sarah was so worried for her sister. I had to take a picture and send it to him so that he could show her that everything was ok.

She remembers it all, and probably will. She has a great memory! Last week she had a cold and told us that she had boogies in her nose and that we had to go to the hospital to get them taken out just like when she had the candy in her nose!

potty time

One of my good friends had a daughter a few weeks after we had Emma. We've been comparing their developmental milestones ever since. Emma sat first, M spoke first (I'm pretty sure M spoke in full sentences before Emma said 2 words, Emma walked first, M recognized colors and letters (seriously, this girl is smart). Well, my girlfriend decided that when M was 18 months old, she was ready to potty train. She bought pull-ups and got some books and videos and was determined to have her potty trained. She told me stories of friends who potty trained their kids that early and she was determined. I was skeptical, but she was a first time mom and, well, you know how they can be (wink).

So as the days-and then weeks-went on, L shared her frustration with the whole process. She was upset that the daycare provider was not working with her, she was upset that her daughter didn't seem to be making progress, even though she would use the potty at home a few times a day. I tried to tell her that it was probably too soon. I also shared with her my suggestions on potty training, but she brushed them off. I don't know what it is about this process that makes mothers so defensive. Friends have come to me with numerous parenting questions from breastfeeding advice to what first foods should they try. However, when it comes to potty training, everyone thinks they have the best solution. I certainly don't profess to be an expert, but I am on my third child and I've learned a few things along the way. But, whatever, you keep trying your method and let me know how that works.

I am a firm believer in naked potty training. Pull-ups are only used for outings, naps & bedtimes. The way I see it, if you teach them to pee in a pull up, it is no different than peeing in a diaper. We go naked in the house, wear pull-ups only when necessary and once it seems like the child has figured out when they have to go, we try training panties (those thick multi-ply cotton ones that Gerber makes). It is often two steps forward, one step back (or even one step forward, two steps back). Usually the first few times in panties, end up in accidents. all three of my girls could go accident free for weeks when naked, but then as soon as a cotton pantie went on, they would pee. It must be something about just feeling something on their bottom.

About 8 months or so, we brought our potty out of storage and let Emma get used to seeing it. She took to it pretty quickly. We spent a lot of time naked, a.lot.of.time. Then Summer hit. It is hard to do naked potty training when your are outside all the time playing with the neighbor kids. So, I didn't push the issue. We were still naked most of the time in the house, but I wasn't pressed to get it done right then.

Then one evening, Emma decided to go poop in the big potty. We were amazed and excited! She was so proud of herself for pooping in the potty like a big girl. It seemed she turned a corner on her own. Then came Elly. Elly was the new girl at daycare who is a bit older than Emma and was already close to being potty trained. That was all it took. Lina, the daycare provider started taking Emma to the potty along with Elly, and the next thing I knew, Emma was coming home in the same diaper she left home with. Last week, Lina handed me a huge bag of diapers and said she didn't need them anymore. Instead, I sent in a few pull-ups and panties and a change of clothes. She's been wearing panties ever since!

My baby is potty trained!! My baby is potty trained. I'm not so sure this milestone is a bittersweet as some of the others.

Oh, and my friend's baby M, she's still walking around wearing pull-ups as diapers. And, she finally asked me to tell her what to do.

performance art

When we were at the beach house, Emma routinely asked to be put "on the wall". It wasn't until I was in the room one time that I understood what she was talking about.

the apple of her eye

The video capabilities of my little digital camera is not that great. So the footage I've posted and am about to post it a lot grainy and a little hard to hear.

While we were on vacation in the Outer Banks of North Carolina Emma got a chance to really get to know her extended family. For the past two summers we've vacationed with Pat's cousins, Dee & Dennis and their families, as well as Pat's aunt and uncle. Add another couple, a girlfriend, and a best friend, and you've got a big awesome house filled with 24 great people.

This year, the weather was perfect and the kids were so well behaved. For many people, getting along with family can be difficult. I'll be the first to admit that there are some members of our large family that I don't think I could spend a week in the same house with. But, not so with this crowd. All of our personalities seem to mesh together well. The kids all get along great, and we even had a few built in babysitters.

Shortly after we arrived, Emma attached herself to one of her second cousins and didn't let go. She was all over him all week. Poor Piz, I felt bad for him by the end of the week. Here is a really bad video of her attachment to Chad, whose nickname is Piz.

two

Emma turned two yesterday.

Blowing out the candle on her Carvel ice cream cake.

Must get every last drop

I am not sure where the past two years have gone. I cannot believe that my baby is now two years old. My sweet Emma has turned into an amazing little girl with loads of personality, just like her big sisters. She talks up a storm from the moment she wakes until the moment her head hits the pillow, and sometimes after that! She is exhausting, but I can't imagine life without her.

How did we get
From This

To This

The end

[Disclaimer: I am truly a breastfeeding advocate, but do realize that it is not ideal for everyone. I pass no judgement on those who chose not to, or could not breastfeed. This is just my experience. One for which I am grateful for choosing.]



I've been formulating this post in my mind for months. It has been almost two full weeks since Emma nursed. Seeing that she is 19 months old, many would consider it well past due. There is a large part of me that weeps inside knowing that I will never get the opportunity to enjoy that wonderful bonding experience again. A few weeks ago, I read a wonderful post about another mother's experience with breastfeeding. Anymommy is most definitely a gifted writer and I am sure that my post will pale in comparison.



When I began the journey of breastfeeding almost 9 years ago with my first child, I had hoped that I would be able to nurse her for a while, but was so unsure of what that really would mean. I had no preconceived ideas of how long was the right amount and what I would do if I needed to formula feed. I just fed her and it worked. She had no difficulty latching on and even with a slight bout of jaundice, we were able to nurse with little fanfare. As she was born in February, it was so nice to just snuggle in and get cozy in bed or on the couch and spend uninterrupted time providing for my baby the way nature intended.

When I returned to work, I pumped. I felt like a cow and struggled mightily with supply problems. I took pills and drank teas and tried all I could do. It got to the point where I had no "freezer stash" and was living day to day hoping that nothing would happen. I can't tell you how painful it was to discover that I had forgotten to put my milk in the fridge one day and found it the next morning still in the cooler compartment of the breast pump. I'm sure I violated some tenet of breastfeeding when I poured that precious liquid gold right into a bottle and NOT down the drain. It smelled and tasted fine to me, so I just banked on the magical properties of breast milk to keep it safe. Thankfully, Sarah came out of that just fine and we were able to make it 12 months of nursing and pumping. She finally weaned herself around 15 months and I was fine with it. Part of me missed it as we snuggled at bedtime, but I also enjoyed having my body back.

When Sarah's younger sister Megan was born, we (my ta-ta's and I) were able to fall right back into the rhythm they learned a few years earlier. The time spent actually nursing her was wonderful, the time spent hooked up to a breast pump-not so much! The same supply issues I had with Sarah were still there. Megan always seemed to enjoy the nursing more than her sister and that was painfully evident in the almost 20 months we spent joined at the mouth/breast. I had to force Megan to wean and it was not a pretty sight. But, again part of me was a little sad to be done with it.

When Emma was born, my job situation had changed some and I knew I wasn't going to be able to nurse her in the morning when she woke. Which meant she was going to drink one more bottle a day than the other girls had, and knowing how my supply was with the other girls, I had a sinking suspicion that I would have some real problems keeping up. Emma was definitely a bigger eater than her sister, it didn't hurt she was born 1.5 lbs heavier. Nursing was not an issue, but of course, supply while pumping was. I posted last fall about my meltdown and my realization that Emma was going to be my first child to have formula. At the time, I felt like a failure. Thank God for friends and family who kept me from losing my mind and helped me to realize it was far more healthier for my child to have me sane, than to insist upon breast milk only.

Emma and I both made it to 12 months and lived to tell about it. When one of her first words was "nurse", I knew I had another addict on my hands. (It was adorable when she would walk up to me at bedtime saying "Nurse? Nurse? Peas, peas, nurse?") I knew it was time, but I couldn't bring myself to wean her. Over the past few months I had gotten her nursing down to just at bedtime and then the last few weeks, I've been slowly using other means of getting her to sleep. I would nurse her for a little and then take her up to her room to read Goodnight Moon and then down she would go. The Wednesday before Thanksgiving I decided this would be a good time to try to wean. Her bedtime routine that night consisted of just the book and nothing else and no complaints. Thanksgiving night, the same. And now we are going on almost two full weeks. Now that doesn't mean she still doesn't ask, but after I tell her a few times that its "all gone" she seems to give up. That also doesn't mean that I don't miss it.

I miss the feel of a baby nestled in my arms and rooting for a familiar smell. I miss the tell-tale feel of the good latch of a hungry baby. I miss the sight of a sleeping baby drunk on mother's milk. I miss the warmth and bonding of skin on skin contact. I miss the sweet sweet smell of baby breath. I miss the joy of knowing that I was the sole source of food for my child. I miss the feeling of total contentment and an indescribable emotion when I would look into the eyes of my nursing child; a feeling only another nursing mother can fully understand.

Stitch

Remember in the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch when the mad scientist is describing his Experiment 626 (Stitch) and how he was designed for mass destruction? Well, that is Emma. She is absolutely adorable, yet thoroughly destructive. She is the most daring, destructive an inquisitive of our three girls.

I feel like I am constantly going around and picking things up. She figured out how to pull the Child-safety caps off of the electrical outlets on her first try...months ago! When the other girls attempted to mess with them I'd yell, maybe a slight swat on the hand and a firm NO! and they never touched them again. Emma is attracted to them and is constantly messing with them. We must now upgrade to a more secure plug cover



Here you see how she has learned how to climb up on the chairs in the kitchen.


She managed to push the chair from the desk area over to the island, and then proceeded to push everything onto the floor.



If she had enough upper body strength, she would have probably climbed up onto the island.













She figured out how to climb on the table. She pulls herself up on the bench and then right up onto the table ALL.THE.TIME! Yesterday we moved the bench to the basement where it will have to stay for probably another year. We don't have enough matching chairs for the kitchen table at the moment, but it will have to do. Now if I can just get the big girls to push in their chairs, we should be able to keep Emma off of the table

Hot Dog

Emma has really started to pick up words, thank goodness! If you can't understand her, tonight she had a hot dog and mixed vegetables. Evidently it was all "nom nommy" and she hasn't figured out hello from bye-bye just yet.

Happy Birthday

It is hard to believe that my youngest and last child is turning one today. It is a bittersweet feeling to be saying goodbye to infancy and hello to toddler hood.

With every child, time seems to pass even more quickly. I look at my girls and wonder how I lost them to "big-girlness". Wasn't it just a few years ago that Sarah was born...can she really be 8? Megan has morphed into a surly pre-schooler who has outgrown pre-school quickly. Little Emma, who was born the size of the other two at 2 months, is walking and finding her Independence.

Despite all the stresses of a newborn, it is one of the stages I love the most. I love being the provider of sustenance and comfort that only I can give her. The utter helplessness surrendered to total love and care.

We have partially weaned and I long for, yet dread, the end of breastfeeding. It is an amazing bond that is indescribable.

What an amazing year this has been. There were times when I thought I would lose my mind, yet I wouldn't change a thing. My dear sweet Emma, I love you more than words can say (however I will say that I love you more when you sleep through the night). Your sisters, even Megan, have embraced you and love you more and more each day. You have made our family complete and I love you, little love bug.

Smiles

Just downloaded pictures from FEBRUARY! I am such a horrible Mom! I love this close-up of Emma.

Wednesday Weigh-In

I believe that I have successfully transitioned the baby off of bottles and on to Whole milk. She is not thrilled about it, but she will drink it. She has also woken up during the middle of the night and wanted to nurse, so maybe it hasn't been as successful as I'd hoped.

What this means for me is that I will no longer be pumping milk during the day at work. I cannot begin to tell you how exciting this is for me. While I am sad that my baby is growing up, I am thrilled to not be constantly stressed over how much milk I am producing. For you breastfeeding advocates out there, don't panic, I will still be nursing her when she needs is, but hopefully it will only be at bedtime.

This also means that I will feel much better about cutting back on my calories and stepping up on my exercise. I've used this spring break to do both. Along with my sisters at The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans, I have embarked on the 30 Day Shred Challenge. Today is day 3 and I feel great. I even think my hubby will be starting it too (he's waiting until after his Easter indulgences).

Today's weigh-in wasn't that great, but I've just started the Challenge and fully expect next weeks numbers to be better!

Starting weight: 1_8.4

Last week: 1_0.4

This Week : 1_0.4

Gain/loss: 0

Total: +2.o

Here Comes Bessie

I feel like a cow.

No this is not a post about my weight loss attempts. This is a post about being milked...you have been warned.

I absolutely love breastfeeding my little one. I always have. There is nothing more special than the bond you form with your baby while feeding them the way nature intended. I love to watch her nurse and see her little jaw quiver as she suckles. The look in her eyes as she gazes up at me just melts my heart. Her little hand reaching out to touch my face as she snuggles in for the long haul. She fits perfectly in my arms and knows how to find her way with her eyes closed. It is a comfortable routine. It is home for both of us.

I have many friends who were not successful at breastfeeding and a few who never tried it. I respect their choices, but part of me feels as though they've missed such a wonderful part of motherhood that cannot be replaced. When I see another nursing mother, I am always reminded of my own experiences (past and present) and often feel as if I am a member of a special club. I was sad when Sarah weaned herself at 15 months. I wasn't as sad when I had to help Megan wean at 20 months, but I missed it none-the-less.

While I love nursing, I CANNOT STAND PUMPING! As a working mother, I need to pump at work so that little Emma can reap the benefits of breast milk while at daycare. I dread pulling out that pump and hooking myself up to it. It is time consuming, uncomfortable, an inconvenience, and a total source of stress for me. I struggle with supply and often am not able to pump enough to cover the next day. I use the weekends to "catch-up", but usually have to thaw a bottle's worth from my freezer stash once a week.

Since Emma is now 9 months old, I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. As it is she is eating more and more "food" and slowly dropping off on how much milk she gets. I just keep counting the months and hope that April gets here soon!

Small Victories

Well, Emma slept through the night last night, and in her crib...well sort of. I'm probably jinxing myself by even mentioning it, but this is a banner day in my boring life!

I had trouble getting her to go down last night, so I snuggled/nursed with her in my bed. Around 10 PM she fell asleep. I let her lay there for a while and then successfully transferred her to the crib in her room around 10:30PM.

In the middle of the night I awoke to Megan standing in the middle of the bed looking to climb in bed with us. I looked at the clock and it was somewhere around 3 AM. Was pleased when I realized that Emma was still sleeping!

She did wake up around 4:15 and I went and got her. I was able to snuggle with her and she fell back asleep. So happy she didn't need to nurse, as that would mess me up for pumping before I go to work.

As far as I'm concerned 10PM to 4:15AM is sleeping through the night...especially when I wake up for the day at 4:45!

Meltdown

Ok, I totally had a meltdown today. I feel as though I am totally coming unravelled. I am barely keeping my head above water at work. My house is a mess, My kids are living on spaghetti and chicken nuggets. And I have turned into the white trash neighbor that lets her kids run around unsupervised.

I am trying to remain committed to breastfeeding Emma, but the lack of sleep and stress has reduced my supply drastically. I cannot pump enough at work to provide for her the next day. I will use up my freezer stash much sooner than I thought.

Thank God for good friends to help talk you down. I realize that I need to re-order my priorities and get a grip. If Emma has to get formula, it will not be the end of the world. I am going to start her on cereal soon and hopefully that will help as well.

Deep cleansing breath.....phew!

I hate you mom!

As the mother of three girls, I knew that I would hear these words regularly as my girls reach adolescence. Little did I know that adolescence now begins at age 4!

I love my children. I tell myself this all the time. I often need reassurance as we struggle through issues dealing with the birth of the new baby. My Megan, my middle child, my cuddle bunny, my squeezy-hug giver, is at times more moody than her big sister. When Sarah was born, we knew almost immediately that she would be the emotional and moody one (I have been told that she comes by it honestly). Megan was different, she was more independent, yet more affectionate. Things have now changed. She must have told me that she hated me at least 5 times yesterday. What is interesting is that in between these tantrums and name-calling, she will sit in my lap or tell me I'm beautiful.

The counselor in me knows that much of this is due to Emma's arrival. We have actually been working on her behavior all summer and it has improved. When adolescence does arrive, I have a feeling that I will realize that this is only the tip of the iceberg!

Naptime Conquered

Ever since Emma was born, 10 weeks ago, I have been trying to get her on to some type of a normal schedule. Her routine has been wake, nurse, sleep, wake, cry, scream, nurse. Repeat until mom goes crazy. I had tried everything to get her to take a decent nap. I was able to get her to sleep in her car seat for an hour or so at a time. But never in the crib. This past weekend I tried swaddling her (we do this at bedtime). I had tried this method weeks ago with no luck, but decided to give it a go one more time.

IT WORKED!!

She has now taken decent naps since Saturday. It may be too soon to declare victory, but I am happy to be able to get a few hours a day to do something other than soothe a fussy baby. This may be a problem for our hectic summer schedule, however.