Milestone # 6,492

Banana splits.  They will definitely be coming back for a second round.

Grandpa is Game

Boy, is grandpa game.  We have very specific rules about playing with swords or "shooter-guns", the theoretical weapon Monito barely knows about.  No pain is involved, no actual body-whacking is usually involved.  Then grandpa comes to visit and allows a full-on pirate play bonanza.  There was dressing up, there was Argh-ing, there were weapon malfunctioning as they were beaten into a pile of plastic, foam and coats-of-arms.

Grandpa spent most of the time on the floor, which gave Monito a clear sense of advantage.  He was merciless.

There was about 20 minutes of play before they retired to the couch to watch Peter Pan and admire the sword-fighting skills of Captain Hook and Pan. 

There was a little love expressed, too.  This boy LOVES his grandpa.  It has taken a full week to deprogram the fighting free-for-all skills.  We now have Homestead Rules and Grandpa Rules for duels.  We can't wait for the next altercation.

Early Adventures

Grandpa came in early to fetch my boy. They are going garbage truck spotting - in a resort town there is much action early as the town is put to rights for a new day of happy tourists. I watched him ride out the back door into the rainy morning on grandpa's shoulders, grinning. Let the adventure begin! They'll both come back sticky with baked goods, full of stories and merriment. And I don't have to go. I'm sitting reading and drinking coffee on the dry couch. Ahhh, vacation.

Economy, My Nemesis

I just heard on NPR that the economy is beginning to exit the recession. I know that this is good overall, yadda yadda, but what it means most to me is that my parents likely won't move here if the recession lifts. I am crushed.

Acute

Some days I feel the absence of my parents more acutely than others. They live 6 hours away and have full lives in the Boston suburbs. I caught Monito busting out of the house this morning. When asked, he said he was going out to the Zooma car to go visit Grandpa. Then he cried when I told him Grandpa lived too far away to visit today. Yeah, the crying could have been just from being told no, but still. My parents are busy recording themselves singing some of my kids' favorite songs and stories on CDs so they can be played anytime the babes want a grandparent hit. Dad even scored an old CD player from his local freecycle so they can learn to play the CDs themselves.

Here they are bringing Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are to life as the dvd plays in the background.
Below, Monito is getting some special grandson attention. With the onset of their fear of 'horns', both kids developed a love of being in the middle; instinctively, they know it is safe.

They may move here, and if it happens it will be none too soon for my family.

email to my parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

I wish you were awake so I could call you both and chat. I am awake; it is 12:41 am and Monito has just fallen asleep after throwing up vigorously at 11pm. He is asleep now, but I am loathe to bring him up to bed so he can throw up there, too, so I am watching Cosby Show reruns and biding my time. I reek of puke. Pequita is due to wake up in the next little bit and want to be nursed back to sleep in my bed by Homestead Mama, and H-Mama is at her dad's until sometime tomorrow. I'm not sure how to get the day's worth of food Monito just upchucked out of the wool living room carpet, and I KNOW he'll throw up more soon in my bed. Sigh. It would be nice to commiserate now over the phone, or better yet know that you could pop over tomorrow and sit with them while I get a nap, since I will most certainly be tired. I can't wait until you have some kind of home nearby. It is not ONLY a selfish desire; the kids talk of you daily and crave your presence even more than I do.

Every day of being a mom makes me more aware that you guys did a great job with us, and I know it wasn't easy. You both had a lot going on in your own lives with which to keep up. I am grateful for all that you DID do, and still do. I appreciate your willingness, acceptance, and love. And I am grateful that you will make time in your day - any time - to talk over speakerphone to me about parenting and all its foibles and the kids about their potty escapades and successes; it means the world to [me] them.

I love you, and miss you every day that you aren't here.

Homestead Mom

My Son, David Bowie

Grandma's arrival for the holidays has brought with it the advent of nail polish to the Homestead. Both kids have embraced the toxic smells, the smears, the utter joy of altering their appearance. We bought a bottle of blue, green and turquoise at the grocery store this afternoon. The house is certainly more glamorous. Monito is particularly partial to the pedicure.
He has been compensating for any doubts about his masculinity by wrassling with his sister at every opportunity. He sets traps, piling up pillows, and then pounces.

Embarassment of...not posting

Sheesh. I am in Boston at my parents. I drove with the kids on Friday, leaving Homestead Mama behind to work through Tuesday. I've been wanting to travel with the kids to see my parents & sister for months, but have been intimidated by the daunting task of parenting them by myself, nursing them both 24 hours a day by myself, tackling bedtime by myself. I could only go where I have excellent support, which is why I was thinking of Boston and not somewhere perhaps more exciting, but with no grandparents to spell me.

In the last few weeks, H-Mama and I have begun a new nighttime ritual with the babes. We've had a hijacked evening life since the kids were born, nursing them down, fetching them from their cribs to comfort them whenever they cried, and once they awakened in the night pulling them into the family bed for the remainder of the night. This system fit our desire to attachment parent, our belief that easy = best, and our complete confoundment at how to crib/sleep train two babies by two lactating women. (Usually the father or non-lactating mom goes in to comfort a kid in the night.) Firstly, we never told them that daylight savings happened; we kept their old 8pm bedtime, but it is now 7pm. They don't know the difference, and we get more evening time. We now go into the nursery and the kids pick out two books each, then we brush their teeth and pile onto our big queen bed. We turn out all the lights, turn on the white noise machine (which admittedly is mostly for me, except that it does muffle noises for the kids, too) and read our books by flashlight. We then sing about 4 songs while we nurse the kids, then we put them into their respective cribs which flank our bed. For the first few days they cried with the horror of the whole situation. We let them go for about 10 minutes, then went up and let them nurse and they crashed within 90 seconds. We then stretched out the time we made them wait for us to go up - at one point they were crying for 30 minutes or so before we'd go up. Then, kind of suddenly, they seemed to get it. They fussed, they might cry for a few minutes, but they settled down fairly quickly. Pequita has a flashlight and a few books, and she reads and sings herself to sleep some nights. Monito usually fusses a bit and then quiets down. This is a huge success! We still go up to nurse them if they wake up in the hours before we go to bed, but they are both cutting molars and are sick, so we'll stop that once their mouths settle down.

We made this shift for us, but it works well for me travelling alone with them. Tubby, books with grandma and then songs with grandpa, who has a beautiful voice and makes even a song about bloodshed and murder sound peaceful and lovely. He sang it to us when we were kids, and I have a soft spot in my heart for it. When we were just little kids, my sister and I would ride our bikes around the neighborhood bellowing lyrics like:

"As Abdul's long knife was extracting the life —
in fact he was shouting "Huzzah!"
He felt himself struck by that wily Kalmyk,
Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar."

So H-Mama is home, admittedly lonely, but getting some things done that we haven't had time to do and really wanted to. I am having a super time here - Mom had purchased a massage for me, and the nice gay masseuse showed up with his table and heated shearling pad at 9 am this morning. Mom and Dad tended the kids while I had 17 months of co-sleeping and side-lie nursing rubbed out of my shoulders. The kids definitely miss their Mama, but it isn't as overwhelming as I had feared. Pequita has a hard time at bedtime, when she usually got her most concentrated time with Mama.

I feel quite guilty about leaving H-Mama behind. She has to pump a few times a day to keep her meager milk supply from drying up. I had forgotten this fact entirely, total humdar moment. And she is lonely. I would be too, but I think I would enjoy the time to myself a lot. H-Mama has a lot of stress on her, working full time in a job that completely overstimulates and strains her nerves, then coming home to kids who overstimulate her and strain her nerves. She maintains a higher level of frustration with the kids than I do; she prefers older kids, while I really like the baby & toddler times. I thought that the time alone in the house would help her appreciate the clutter, mayhem and cacophony a bit. It might, but for now she is rattling around in a medium-sized homestead by herself without me to entertain her, and without the babies she loves so dearly. I definitely have the better deal, I think. She'll drive out on Tues night and stay with us through Sunday after Thanksgiving, then we'll all return together. It will be amazing to be reunited. It is also a really good thing to miss the people you love. Distance certainly helps me value what I take for granted.

Grandparent Love, School Love

My dad is fighting aging tooth and nail. His PT has given him core strengthening exercises which he is diligent about. The babies love to help him, and are now mimicking his every move.

Today, I tried out pigtails on Pequita for the first time. It was adorable. Her hair is so curly, they were actually like little squiggly pig tails, hugging her scalp.She is so excited to have nursery school coop to go to by herself. We pack a special bag with a change of clothes, extra diapers, water, and a special toy. She likes to carry it herself, and screams if Monito touches it. We walked out to the car discussing what was going to happen - she's still getting used to being left somewhere without Mama or me. She was disturbed today the whole way downtown as Monito's car seat was empty; she kept saying Bubba? Bubba? and pointing to his spot. No amount of explaining that he was home with Grandma quieted her fears, so we sang all the way to the coop which helped her forget a bit. She was happy to hear me return at 11 am, after an hour of acupuncture and the better part of an hour spent lounging in a coffeehouse alone - alone! She led me around her play space and showed me her favorite toys. So independent she is sometimes.

I am sorry my parents are gone. I already called them to tell them to move up the schedule to relocate here; if they wait a few more years, the kids will miss out, as will they. The plan is for them to move into the house we own across the street, and keep a pied a terre in Boston, so they have a home near each grandchild. I love raising a kid with a village around. Everyone wins.

Visiting Parents

Having houseguests really slows down the blogging. You'd think the extra help would buy me all the spare time I needed to nap, blog, shop, go see the Sex and the City movie, but you'd be wrong.

What we have had time to do is go to the birthday party of one of Pequita's friends. Monito got to ride a pink trike, and he totally didn't feel emasculated as you can see. Bring on the streamers!

I did more gardening, a lot more playing in the yard and the kids have been giving Grandma the grand tour of local playgrounds. My favorite has lake, park, playground and shade trees. We spend hours there.
Mom got me a nice pair of blue Crocs for my birthday and also CLEANED OUT MY CAR. We took out the car seats and washed the covers. She cleaned all the windows, vacuumed it to within an inch of its life, scrubbed down the seats [which took three buckets of soapy water to come clean] and scraped all the moist detritus from under the backseat. Oh my goodness, but that was not an activity for the faint of heart. It is so lovely now I was loathe to put the babes back in it, but who knew that some naked time in the empty car would be so very exciting?

Gorgeous, no? To keep it that way, I have made a waterproof seat cover that is installed under the car seats and covers the whole back seat. At least we can shake it off once in a while and vacuum easier.We had a first birthday party a little early for Monito, who turns one year old on June 14. His present from his grandparents was this wagon. We are entering the most fun ME/ MINE/ Noooooooo!!! phase in Pequita's life at the same time that Monito is finding his [screamy] voice, and I wanted nothing to do with toys that only he can play with. They love their wagon, and if it is in sight of the kitchen window, they start begging for rides before we even have breakfast.

The fieldstones we picked out were delivered and are still on their pallets. As I had hoped, the kids really like climbing all over them. I'll be happier when my landscaping guy comes with his skid steer and places them in the yard where I actually want them. Sometime this week, he says.

Hands-on Love

I used to love to touch my grandmother's hands. They were so thin, the skin was papery and I could see her veins clearly. They were so soft; I would caress them and move the skin through my fingers. Grandma would take off her rings and let me try them on over and over. She was very tolerant of me, and I think knew that it was a loving gesture.

My mother's hands are looking older now, and she wears my grandmother's rings. I am moved by how they fill me with love and a longing to freeze a piece of time so that I can always have them with me. I waited a long time to have kids for various reasons, and Homestead Mama and I have concerns that our kids will have less time with their grandparents than we did.* This saddens me a great deal. Having a yearly portrait of my parent's hands on the babes is one way I pad my memories.

*Sorry, Mom and Dad, for the morbid thoughts. Um, have you been to the gym today? Just a thought.

Life Goes On

Another post coming to you from the front seat of my car. It is going to be an expensive winter if I have to keep the car running for heat while they nap with any regularity; yet another reason to keep at the crib training.

The sleep/crib training is going pretty well. I usually put Pequita down for her morning nap between 10:30 and 11:30 am, and she cries/hollers for anywhere from 10 – 50 minutes before dropping off. (Personally, I think she really enjoys bouncing up and down in her crib, like jumping on our bed. As soon as she lays down she crashes, but if she is standing she is bouncing, whether or not she is crying.) We put her down at night between 8 and 9 pm, depending on the afternoon schedule, and she is usually asleep within 15 minutes, frequently fussing for mere moments before being silent. We hope not to have to become more rigid with actual times, but we will if we have to. Frankly, Homestead Mama and I are not great with schedules ourselves, and it would be a massive life change to put that in effect for the kids.

Pequita is now running. I have been keeping a list of milestones and changes in both kids for the last few weeks, but haven’t been able to find the time to post them. They are both moving in leaps and bounds – it is very exciting, but also sad to lose each stage that they grow out of. I’ll post each kids’ list in a separate post shortly.

We are heading downstate for Thanksgiving to spend time with Homestead Mama’s mom & maternal family. Her mom and stepfather met Pequita when she was four months old, but haven’t seen any of us since and have never met Monito. I secured a reservation at a hotel near them which offers free wireless and a nice pool. One of my coping mechanisms for visiting family & in-laws is to make sure we have a room/suite of our own, even if it means that we pay for one in a hotel. This works well for H-Mama and me, but now with the kids means that we spend less time with whoever we are visiting since we have to leave by 7ish to go put the kids to bed. Usually, given family dynamics, this is just fine. We’ll spend 2 days with the in-laws and then spend the following three days staying with friends outside of NYC who have two kids, which should offer a comfortable environment for our own. We’re really looking forward to hanging out with them, and will be able to zip over to the City to visit a couple other friends while we are down there.

Homestead Mama is out with an able-bodied friend to begin dismantling a cedar swing set we bought from a listing on Craig's list. It is only a few years old and in great shape, and we are pleased with the deal we got. Pequita is so agile and physical that it is definitely not too soon to get her a slide and swing of her very own; the climbing tower and fire pole she’ll have to grow into. Here is her impersonation of King Kong on her dollhouse. The dolls? Not so much right now, but the house offers much fun. They should have the second half of the swing set transported back to our house by tomorrow afternoon, and hopefully put back together in our yard the following weekend. I can’t wait. We had something like this when I was a kid and I remember playing on it a lot. H-Mama, never one to do things on a small scale, is already planning add-on towers, tunnels, and other glorious playground-like modifications. This is fine with me – I don’t expect to let the kids watch TV much at all or play video games (in our house anyway) so the more exciting the outside activities the better.

Friends Who Cook

A new friend of ours was an OB nurse at the hospital we delivered in. She is now a nurse manager at our pediatricians office. She was the kind soul who came to the house and stripped my membranes when I was so ready to deliver Monito. She has been wanting to come and do something to ease our lives since the arrival of the second baby, and tonight was finally the night. All day long I worried about not having time to tidy, vacuum and clean up the house. I obsessed about the clutter that is growing and that I don't have time to deal with right now, since I am spending almost all my days holding the sick baby boy. Despite all my needless concern, our nurse friend showed up at our home and cooked us a delicious dinner of Moroccan Chicken over couscous. We cracked a bottle of wine and ate in the living room since I didn't have a chance to clean the dining room. She did this lovely mitzvah for us with no mention of the state of our home. I forget how nice it is to have people over, the kind of people who help us instead of draining us. Dinner was yummy, and we had a nice time chatting and getting to know each other a bit more. After dinner, I finally remembered to offer to let her hold Monito. It isn't that I want to hoard him, it is just that I am so used to shouldering the responsibility that I forget to share him. She was happy to get her hands on him, even though he pees or leaks his diaper on her every time she holds him. Embarrassingly enough, tonight was no exception. I can't imagine how that happens, but bad diaper management must be a big part of it. (Neither of our kids let us know when they are wet, and neither get rashes, so we have to remember to change them regularly. NOTHING should be left up to my memory these days, or Homestead Mama's.)

Pequita isn't really into being held right now unless she is tired or hurt. She was tearing around the living room and kitchen the whole time. At one point I went to check on her in the kitchen as it had been quiet for 60 seconds and she was standing up holding onto the dog's bowl. Luna, our shepherd mix, was sitting next to her looking miserable as Pequita stirred her hand around in the bowl of dinner Luna had been enjoying until a few seconds earlier. I swooped in and grabbed Pequita from the bowl and as expected, spotted the 2 kibbles in her mouth that she was happily mashing on. Oh, how she howled when I removed her prize from her mouth. I was only slightly comforted by the fact that we feed the dogs human-grade food. It is still dog food, and a right proper choking hazard. And a little funny, too.

Tomorrow, Friday, Homestead Mama's father and stepmother are coming to visit from out of town. They are attending a conference in a nearby town, and are taking the opportunity to meet their new grandson for the first time. It is great they can come down, as I don't think we'll make it up to their house until Christmastime. Homestead Mama has to run a training all day for work, so I may be on my own with them until she arrives. I hope Pequita's stranger anxiety is really easing up, as it will be hard for them if she is afraid of them. No one likes that kind of reminder that we don't see enough of our relatives.

Summer Vacation Redux - Part One

It was surprisingly difficult to not have Internet on vacation. There was so much to blog about and so many good pictures.


Our departure was, as usual, completely nutty. My 14 year-old dog shattered his foreleg jumping from only one foot off the ground the afternoon before we left. The emergency vet hospital visit took 4 hours the night before we left, basically consuming all our planned packing time. The x-rays showed that my pooch likely had early bone cancer and we decided to euthanize him - the leg was irreparable, and he had several other serious aging dog issues. This was horrible for me, as he was my constant companion for his whole life. His nickname was The Mayor, as he was friendly to a fault and always wanted to wander around politely greeting every person in the park. It was a less than auspicious ending, because Homestead Mama and I had both babies in a small exam room for the whole time during and through their bedtime. I was unable to properly love on my pooch and process what was going on because Monito was crying and Pequita was licking the floor, exam table legs, chairs, whatever. (She's going through a bit of a phase right now.) When my dog was being put down Pequita was bleary-eyed and chewing on the door stop (in a vet hospital - how clean could that BE?) and it made it hard to focus on the dog, so strong was my desire to keep her from contracting some deadly bacteria from the surfaces she was so lovingly tasting.

The next morning, instead of waking up and jumping into a packed car, we awoke and had to both tend babies, nurse, and pack for 10 days away from home. We managed to fit everything we needed into our car. It took about 12 hours with traffic to make the seven-hour drive, and Homestead Mama kept the babies happy the whole way by sitting squeezed in between the two car seats in the back. I was grateful to be the one driving. Due to a traffic jam at the end of the trip, we made our ferry with THREE minutes to spare. I have never sped so much in a car - I am usually a pretty lawful driver. I was spurred on by the thought of being stranded in a vacation area at 8 pm with no hotel vacancies, no way to get our car-load of stuff across the ferry (reservations fill up in January) and with two exhausted babies. I was giddy with happiness as we sat in the car nursing and breathing ocean air deeply. We got set up to put the babies to sleep immediately upon arrival (after hugs all around) and crashed pretty quickly ourselves. I woke up early almost every day, to the sunrise view below from the balcony off our room. The ocean is a block away, and while it doesn't show up in the photo very well it is huge, blue and looks gorgeous from the house.

Monito was exhausted from his first 2 months of life, and really took to vacationing like a champ. (And yes, I packed his mobile. He looks at it when he wakes up and it buys us more sleep time.)

My family has been renting the same vacation house for about twenty years. It is like sliding into a comfortable old robe to arrive and unpack, shake off our travel clothes and stress and meander down to the big porch that overlooks a park and out onto the ocean with a gin and tonic (or this year a baby and a passel of toys.) The house is close to the beach, grocery store, restaurants and a great park - the location can't be beat.

One of our favorite activities to do while on vacation is to go quahogging. We crack some open while standing hip-deep in the bay and eat them on the half shell, but end up bringing home a half-bushel for later transformation into chowder. Some days it can take a couple hours to rake up that many, other days it only takes a short time. The new digging site we went to this year was so rich with clams that we were done quickly. One of us got 22 clams in one scoop - an all-time record, to be sure. Homestead Mama wore Pequita in the Ergo carrier because she felt strongly that Pequita would love the experience. She did, until she fell asleep. This isn't an easy task, as H-mama was bending, dipping, digging and bouncing the baby around the whole time. You can see her head lolling to the side in the picture. Have I mentioned how our baby girl will sleep anywhere?

I only raked for about 10 minutes until I felt the pull of my Cesarean incision site, and opted to be the photographer in lieu of popping my almost-dissolved stitches.

Monito stayed behind with grandma on the porch. He spent time swinging in the hammock, which he loved. I really never have to worry when my mother has the kids. She is incredibly nurturing and innately skilled and patient with infant and young children. She taught kindergarten - third grade for her whole life, and it shows in all her interactions with our kids.

My dad makes the best chowder recipe (from the New Basic Cookbook) and he spent the day tending to that, and we had it for dinner. The quahogs last all week, too, so it is a good thing to do early in our vacation.

We're Back

Last week, we caught the ferry over to our destination with only three minutes to spare due to traffic. We made it onto our return ferry this morning at 7 am with a whole 2o minutes to spare. Travelling with 2 kids is much different than just us, for sure. I managed to get both kids diaper-changed an dressed this morning at 5:30 am without waking them while Homestead Mama finished loading the car. A miracle, really. They lasted several hours in the car today without incident, as long as H-mama sat wedged in between their carseats the whole way entertaining them. I'm not complaining - we didn't have baby meltdown until 20 minutes from our house. We asked a lot of them and they totally came through today. Good babies!

Below, Monito falls in love with his grandpa and Pequita comtemplates her future as a small craft sailor.

Full Access

I read all my comments. I love it when those of you who read make yourselves known (hint hint).

My lovely friend from the UK left this comment on the last post:

"I need some clarification. Your DAD was present during your labor?!? Your parents are amazing!!"

I must concur. They are amazing. When Homestead Mama went into labor, we were able to wait until the sensible hour of 6 am to call my parents so they could get on the road and make the six hour drive to be present for the delivery. They stayed a week after Pequita was born; H-Mama's father came to visit the weekend after they left. Her mom came to visit when Pequita was 3 months old. When I went into labor, we called them at 11:30 pm and they drove through the night, poor souls.

My dad was the photographer when Homestead Mama gave birth to Pequita, and also when I gave birth to Monito. When I say he had all access, I mean ALL ACCESS. We charged him with taking photos of everything, figuring we'd edit as needed after the fact. Well, Dad took his job very seriously (as we knew he would) and he has left us with a photojournalist-styled series of shots from both births. He even took audio recordings and short movies so we could have clips of us laboring, with all the vocalizations, swearing, and laughing that went on, and some of the discussions with the doc about major decisions, like should we move to c-sections. People are universally surprised, if not a tad horrified, that Homestead Mama let her father-outlaw in the delivery room with her all naked, bloody, distracted and out of sorts taking closeup action shots of her lady parts. (Truth be told, in the throes of labor they don't resemble the normal bits all that much. Also, while there is much dignity, there is precious little modesty in labor. Trust me.) People are only slightly less horrified that I had him perform the same function at my delivery. We are grateful to him, and pleased to have a personal record of the events. I don't imagine that we'll ever show most of the photos to anyone else, but WE have them. I intend to use them to illustrate the birth stories that we are writing. And based on my own love of hearing the story of my own birth while I was growing up, H-Mama and I will be videotaping ourselves relating the story of each of our kids' births to add to the memory boxes. I think it will be meaningful for the kids as they get older. We get so mushy and lovey and make moon eyes at each other when we reminisce, and have photos of the IVF clinic doc & nurses, we saved a plastic vial that contained the "donor sample" from the inseminations, each and every ultrasound pictures or movie, the amnio video and results, the hospital name bracelets from the delivery, and assorted other artifacts. Homestead Mama's family was very bad at keeping memorabilia - we have NO photographs of her younger than one year old as her mom lost them at some point. She feels this as a great loss of her personal history. I came from the exact opposite environment, and loved having the record of coming into existence. So from two different beginnings, we are united in our desire to keep a full history for each child.

With all this text about the pictures, here are a couple that embody the spirit of my labor and bring it all rushing back. The difference between these two faces/moods could be as little as 2 minutes. Forgive the black-out spots - there are some images of myself that I NEVER want to see reproduced on the web in their entirety.

Grandma Goes Home (Retro post, July 17)

This was my mother's last full day here with us. She arrived at 7am on June 13 after driving through the night to care for Pequita while I gave birth to Monito. It has been about 5 weeks, and while it is really too long for an easy visit, our lives have been much the better for her presence. We have been forced to work through inevitable arguments, and be civil in the face of grumpiness. She had tirelessly cared for Pequita when Homestead Mama is at work, doing yard work, working on a project or needs a nap. She has kept the house a damn sight cleaner than it ever would have been, kept us in quite yummy homemade food and stocked our freezer with casseroles and food to last us the next several months. All this has given me time with Monito that I wouldn't have had - time to fall in love with him, work through my breast feeding issues, mostly just time to be selfishly focused on me and my new baby. It is a huge gift.

We went out to lunch at the local Mexican-fusion joint. The street outside was torn up and crawling with construction workers, equipment and vehicles. Noisy, busy and wafting diesel exhaust - PERFECT for entertaining a 9 month old. We had a tasty lunch while Monito slept and Pequita stared all agog at the activity.

Afterwards we took the babes to the park. I ran into some friends with babies and reconnected with them - the more folks I have to call to hang with the better. Mom kept up with Pequita, and brought her into the fountain for the first time. After an initial skittishness, she embraced the cold sprinklers and the other kids were very kind to her, talking her through the vagaries of filling super-soaking guns, how to best run through without getting your face wet and other wisdom. She didn't want to leave, and quickly graduated from clinging to grandma to going it alone with the spray. Next time, however, I'll have to have some swim diapers on hand. Her diaper was totally soggy and heavy after 30 minutes in water.

Facing time at home alone with the baby with no car, we ran errands and went shopping, stocking up the fridge. Then home for a nap all around before Homestead Mama got home from work. Mom left the next day at about 10 am - I'm sure my dad was happy to have her home again. I miss her and keep calling to update her on the kids. She is loving her own bed, but said she is lonely without the grandkids at arms reach.

Plumbum (Retro Post - July 13)

We were back at the pediatricians office today; Pequita was due for her 9 month well visit, and Monito had his 1 month visit. Both are healthy. We had few questions, and in response to them the Doc had good advice about how to minimize Monito's spit up problems (feed him at a 30 degree angle on my chest, as the esophagus enters the stomach from the back) and some comforting but useless help about Pequita's constipation. Then they did the regular 9 month blood test on Pequita. Here she is exiting the exam room, having demanded to walk out of her own volition.
Lead. Pequita has an elevated lead level, according to her finger stick & the portable, admittedly less reliable tester machine. Elevated only one point above the acceptable normal range, but since we live in the 150 year old homestead, we are concerned. Her exposure could be nothing - we were told to go to the hospital on Monday for a real blood draw & to have the test run on a regular machine vs. the portable one in our pediatric office. However, the predictions are dire for kids who have lead poisoning. She could have been exposed in a myriad ways, but the most likely culprit is our own home. I bought some lead tests and have been swabbing everything in the house. We removed almost all the original woodwork in the house during the renovation, as we knew it had lead paint on it (and it would have taken months to delicately remove it, strip it, and reinstall it). We still have a few original doors in the house, admittedly with their original paint on them. Also, we have 2 step-back cabinets that test positive for lead paint. The one in the living room I bought for a song at an auction and we have begun stripping it already, the other is original to the house in an out of the way place and we'll get to soon.
When Monday rolled around, my mom and I took the kids to the hospital to get Pequita's real blood test, as Homestead Mama had to go to work. It nearly broke my heart to lay down next to my daughter on a hospital gurney and hold her still while the tech stuck her in the crook of her arm to draw a huge vial of blood. I'm not sure if Pequita cried harder because of the needle stick or the act of being pinned down by strangers. There were two nurses doing it, as she was a baby and they are famous for thrashing around. Afterwards, she recovered quickly and we all went to lunch in the hospital cafeteria for lunch - this was a planned reward for Pequita's suffering. The only thing that made her stop picking at her bandage was pureed squash - mmmmmmmm.
The food is quite good for a cafeteria, cheap, and there is no one to care if the babies melt down or H-mama and I are both whipping boobs in and out while we breastfeed. I am not kidding when I say that Homestead Mama and I will likely be eating out there with some regularity when we need to get out of the house. Restaurants are very hard for us these days - Pequita always manages to overturn a beverage, and we are starting to leave a mess in our wake as she insists on helping feed herself. I usually tip more the bigger the mess we make, but it isn't relaxing in most restaurants. The sacrifices one makes as a parent - sheesh! Gone are the days of our yummy adult restaurants with lovely wine cellars and fantastic table service. Our standards are so different these days.

On the plus side, Monito has begun smiling in response to us smiling at him. He is adorable, we have decided. We figure we'll keep him. Wouldn't you?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Sorry for being AWOL. We made it through the first 9 months of parenting with no real negative experiences. We have now, with the arrival of Monito and with Pequita entering into the most dreaded stage of all babyhood (the learning to crawl/walk/ talk no-sleep stage) become a little, um, snappish.

Warning: boring alert. Cataloging fatigue and snot production is never a good blog topic, but it is all I can process right now. I have become one of THOSE people. Ick.

Monito came home from the hospital to a loving family of diseased people. All of us had a cold. Pequita is still hacking away at night, but the rest of us are on the mend. Monito, though, has such a stuffy nose that he cannot breathe around the boob at night. He wheezes, snorts, snores, and stops breathing for long seconds at a time. This makes it difficult for me to sleep, as I worry. I just called the doc's office. We will continue our current repertoire of steam-showers, humidifier, and bulb-snot-sucker (which he loathes). To this we will add sleeping in the car seat to be upright (which might allow me to lay flat to sleep instead of holding him on my chest) and infant saline nasal spray. Fingers crossed.

Pequita. Oh, how proud we are. She is physically ahead of the game. In the last week she has learned:
to crawl
to climb a step
to walk while holding onto support (table, leg, dog, etc.)
to drink from a straw

She is now eating many fruits & veggies, as well as the occasional milkshake & ice cream. She loves best to drink from our cups, which she can do quite neatly. She has ongoing constipation, so we feed her prunes in every form which she loves, and all the juice, water & breastmilk she'll tolerate. Apparently it is common to have much sleep interruption when learning to be mobile, and she is resisting rest in all forms at all times of day & night. Last night, Homestead Mama was up for 2 hours walking and rocking Pequita, as every time we lay her in her crib or our bed she thrashed, cried and was very agitated, all while sleeping. When she is willing to lay down, she wants to be nursing at all times, which is causing H-mama some discomfort, since she's a little out of practice with that frequency. Pequita is also beginning to want autonomy that she is just too young for, which is resulting in temper tantrums. Who would have thought this would start at 8.5 months? Not me. Homestead Mama is very patient with her, and lets her have all her emotions and flip out, and remains remarkably calm and collected. She recovers fairly quickly, but Oy! while they go on, she is loud and screamy.

For the first time, when Homestead Mama and I have awake time together in the wee hours of the morning we aren't gushing about how adorable our kid is and professing our love. We are now finding new and creative curse words, getting a little snappy with each other and trying hard to keep each kid quiet enough so as not to wake the other one. Luckily, this can't go on forever. Sadly, it is unpleasant while it lasts and with all my hormones, I'm not so pleased feeling disconnected from Homestead Mama.

My mother is still here, and is dedicated to tending to Pequita so that I can bond with Monito and learn how to care for him, and get enough rest. God bless her - she is running herself ragged looking after Speed Racer, which is Pequita's new nickname. (At least in the daytime. At 3 am, we tend to call her Hellraiser under our breath.) Granted, she is revelling in her grandmotherhood, but Pequita is exhausting for anyone, let alone a woman of (ahem) advanced age who just had a knee replacement a couple months ago. She is also still keeping the house clean and making many meals. I am taking note of her system, as I'll be on my own with all this in a week and a half when she returns to her normal life of taking care of my dad, who is for the most part less taxing.

I'll post some pictures to make up for the boring post. At least, despite all else, the kids are still completely beautiful and loving.

Monito has landed!

Sorry for the delay - I literally keep falling asleep on my keyboard. I gave birth to a baby boy via c-section at 4:21 am this morning, June 14th. Monito is 9 pounds and 5 ounces - a large baby! I had a wonderful labor according to the OB, ahead of the average schedule, good control of contractions, great progress, etc. This all ended at about 8 - 9 cm dilation around 11pm on Wednesday night. I wasn't dilating the final centimeter despite adding pitocin (and an intrathecal block to cope with it). After another few hours, I had regressed to 8 cm due to cervical swelling. I was exhausted, not having slept for more than 7 minutes straight in 28 hours, and in a huge amount of pain with each contraction. Also, the doc had ruptured my membranes a couple hours earlier and there had been a small amount of meconium present, not the greatest sign. The decision was made to deliver via c-section, and after that things happend pretty quickly. A good surgery, Homestead Mama was there with her camera & support. I spent an hour in recovery, and thenI was returned to my hospital room and had to wait almost 2 hours until I could see the baby because he aspirated some fluid during birth. Finally, my dad tracked down a wheelchair and escorted me down to the nursery to meet my son.

I'm working on a birth story, and will try to post that in the next day or two. In summation, Homestead Mama and I are blissed out, grateful as heck to have a second healthy baby, and so happy to have my parents here to help out. Pequita spent the past 30 hours with her grandma, who even slept in our bed next to Pequita to keep her feeding schedule on track. I would never have been able to relax into labor had my mother not been here caring for Pequita and the house.

Now all I have to do is master breastfeeding and get sprung from the hospital in less that the 3 required days after a c-section. Shouldn't be too hard, as I'm already up and moving about. This is far from the worst surgery I've endured.