I thought my blog could use some sprucing up. I hope you don't mind the few new additions and changes. :)

Fair Report

We went to the fair today and we had a really good time! Robby did great (he slept through most of it) and I got to catch up with a couple of friends from high school. We also went to the photography building and found all our photos. As expected, I didn't win any ribbons, but Matt floored us both. He won second place on one of his photos (above)! No offense to him, but I was shocked considering it was the first year entering and in advanced, nonetheless! He proudly collected his $3.50 premium (woo-hoo?) with a great big smile on his face. I couldn't be more proud of my hubby! Go Matt!

Utterly Brain Dead

I had a friend scope out my photos at the fair the other day. She told me that she only spotted four at the time, but no ribbons. I figured since I did so well last year with a crappy camera that I'd do well this year with a nice camera, so I admit I was slightly surprised (not to sound presumptuous). I racked my brain and then it came to me as I was talking to Cher today - I accidentally put them in the ADVANCED amateur class instead of just the amateur class! Oh. My. Word. All that time, money, and energy for nothing. I want to cry. I have a snowball's chance and if I do get anything, it will be a complete miracle. At least I got to enter again this year and pretend to be an advanced photographer.

On that note, in hopes that I can try and "recover" from this blow, my fair prints are for sale if anyone's interested. Some are spoken for already, but they're good quality prints (good paper) and they're already matted. I'm willing to take whatever they appear to be worth.

It just goes to show - having a baby and trying to do...anything...do not mix. He did make my day with this, though (sorry it's dark - he's quick with his smiles, so I had to catch him where he was):
Smiley Boy!

Never-ending Car Issues

Cars hate us. Yep, that's right. If it has four wheels and we're depending on it, it automatically feels the need to give us problems.

As I posted last week, our Taurus is no more. That left us with just the Sable until we were able to get Cher's car when she buys her new one, which is, thankfully, in a couple of weeks. But evidently the Taurus was scheming with the Sable before it met it's untimely demise because now the Sable's leaking coolant. Fantabulous. Are we really that rough on cars or do all things vehicular just have it out for us? I'm so sick of dealing with car problems I could cry...not that it would do anything, but I'd be fulfilling my feminine quota for the day.

Let's pray I make it to Buhl for my doctor's appointment, today.

[Edit] Well, I made it to Buhl and back without incident. I didn't see any coolant, so I'm hoping the puddle I saw yesterday was only over-flow. Here's praying.

On a side note, my doctor's appointment went well. My blood pressure is back to normal (Dr. Dan concluded that I had pregnancy-induced hypertension) and my incision is healing well. He was even nice enough to prescribe some allergy medicine for me (I'm miserable this time of year). I promised to behave myself, as he always tells me "behave yourself!" before I leave. "I don't have any energy to get in trouble with, so don't worry," I told him.

I did stumble across a depressing note in my chart while I was waiting to "check out". I was reading the summary of my labor and delivery and they consider me "morbidly obese". Ouch. Everything else was fine, but that stuck out like a stain on the paper. Can't I be considered "big, but healthy"? It hurt to be labeled as such, but then it motivated me to try harder to lose the weight. Since the plan of walking in the morning flopped when the Taurus died (dropping off and picking up Matt is a pain) and trying to walk in the evenings is near impossible due to exhaustion on all parts, Cher was nice enough to offer to come pick me up so we can walk together in the afternoons. I'm excited about it because we could spend hours just talking, so it should be fun. We might as well be doing something useful while chatting.

Something New Everyday

Babies are peculiar creatures. I honestly question if they're the same species or if they're some form of alien life. You wouldn't think something so small would be so complicated, but alas, 'tis true. How could we not be created?

After receiving some more valuable advice in an email from a family friend, I decided to try some new things in order to get a few moments of peace today. So, Robby is currently swinging swaddled (try saying that five times fast) with one of my t-shirts next to him and is happy as can be (as you can see in the photo). I thought he was too old/big to be swaddled anymore, but I guess I was wrong. We stopped doing it after he was a couple weeks old. Was I trying to make him grow up too fast already? I wonder if I'll ever figure him out or if that's just part of parenthood - stumbling around in the dark and stubbing your toes a bunch of times. Sounds a lot like life in general.

On a side note, here are some photos of Matt when he was little. A HUGE thanks to the in-laws for collecting these for me! He still has that contagious, "I'm up to no good" smile. What a cutie!

Click the photo to enlarge.

Going Mad

For those of you who are choosing to sit in the choir during this sermon, just hang tight and let me vent. Thank you.

Simply put - the child refuses to let me put him down. He won't even go in the Snugli. I have to be physically holding him. He won't even take naps during the day anymore unless it's in my arms. The poor little guy looks exhausted, but he just won't sleep! This is seriously cutting into my other responsibilities along with much-needed breaks and I'm starting to lose it. I broke down and now he's screaming in his crib. He's fed, changed, and perfectly safe, I assure you, but I'm still feeling like a horse's behind for doing it.

I've read that it's impossible to spoil a child at this age and that the comfort and security you give them now will make them trust you in the future, but where do you draw the line? When you snap and end up hurting them? And before I get freaked-out emails/comments - I would NEVER, EVER even THINK about doing that. I mean, I love my son to tears and I hate hearing him scream and want to give him my all, but Mommy needs a break before she breaks!

[Edit] I don't know what I'd do without my Sara. She swooped in and saved my newbie butt once more. She informed me that babies go through many "transitional periods" in their first year and can sometimes become overwhelmed with learning and changing that they become incredibly fussy. She also suggested that when I lay him down to put something that smells like me next to him to comfort him. Right now, he's in his swing snuggling up to one of my t-shirts and happily snoozing. I don't know how long the peace will last, but I will savor what I can get for now.

A HUGE thanks to Sara for the advice! I seriously don't know what I'd do without you!!!

Nerd Mama

I took some sleepy time photos of Robby in a sleeper Daddy bought for him (he's almost too big for it!) and I decided to play around with them a bit just for fun. I love to scrapbook, but I don't have time to put pages together and it can get rather spendy in the end. So, I decided to get back in touch with my nerd side and make somewhat of a scrapbook-esque looking photo using Photoshop.Click the photo for a larger view.

The Ultimate Birth Control

This entertaining and incredibly true tidbit was in one of my baby update emails. I just had to share it. If you're a parent, you'll completely understand:

"At your six-week checkup, when your ob-gyn asks you what you're planning to use for birth control, look her right in the eye and laugh."

Hooray for Baths!

That's it. Robby's getting a bath EVERY night from now on. You may think that's a bit pointless since he's still at that "clean age", but he went to bed easily at 9:30 last night and slept for six hours without a peep! I woke up to Matt's 3:30 alarm this morning thinking, "did I sleep through a feeding?" or "did I not hear him?" then realized that he had slept all that time. I did a little happy dance (in my head, of course)! It may be an extra step at night, but it's SO worth it! Plus, I think he's actually starting to enjoy it...or rather, tolerate it. I know he likes the baby massage with the "sleepy lotion" afterwords, though.

Tests of Faith

Yesterday wasn't the greatest. Robby was hungry and fussy (more like screamy?) all day, I had to deal with the hospital again (who expects us to pay $165/month on our bill), I couldn't find the right matting for my fair photos, Matt and I were biting at each other any chance we got, and then it happened. The last straw. Our Taurus, which was already on it's last leg, died on the side of the road *moment of silence*. We were waiting for it, but why that day of all days? When Matt called to tell me to come pick him up, I had JUST gotten Robby to nap for the first time all day. I have to admit I was livid, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't just leave my husband stranded. So, I pack a once-slumbering child into the car seat, which made the screaming commence once more, and we went off to find Daddy.

I find him parked on a side street next to his job. The car's out of the way, but we have to figure out what to do with the stupid thing. We end up calling our friends for a tow rope (which we owe them a new one, now - sorry guys) and tow it home - a harrowing experience I never want to go through ever again. Let me set the scene - Matt's in our Sable wagon doing the towing, trying to mouth directions and advice out the window as we're driving, while I'm white-knuckled in the Taurus behind him trying not to slam into the back of our only working car, and Robby's in the back of the Sable screaming his head off for food. Can this get any better? We limp home just as it's getting dark only to find that the tow rope is fraying and just BARELY made it thanks to my novice skills at being towed.

After the dust settles, I'm finally able to get some much-needed rest - for a couple hours, at least. As I'm laying there in bed, I start stewing over the day's events. Why did I think doing the fair this year was a good idea? Where does the hospital think we're going to get that money? Will I have to find a job to help pay our bills? What about Robby? Why did he have to run me ragged today? Why did the car have to die now? I completely worked myself up into a tizzy.

Then I started really thinking about everything and I felt guilty for complaining. God will provide the needed funds to pay our bills because He's never let us down before. Thank God that I'm able to stay home and raise my son instead of having to work and having someone else raise him. Thank God that we have formula to feed his ever-demanding appetite and that he's growing big and strong because of it. Thank God we were even able to have him! Thank God for good friends who are always willing to help and that we were able to buy our Sable from them so we had a reliable vehicle once more. And the fair - it's small potatoes in comparison to everything, but it's meant to be a hobby and therefore enjoyed!

Thank God for the obstacles in our lives so that we're able to see the bigger picture and appreciate the things that are going right. Thank God for these tests of faith.

County Fair

Call this a shameless plug, but if any of you plan on attending the 2008 Twin Falls County Fair, I invite you to visit the photography booth and look for my entries! Not to toot my own horn, but I had a lot to choose from this year and it was really hard to whittle them down to ten favorites. Here's praying I chose the right ones and that I do well again this year!

To view my entries, go here.

Feedback welcome! Seeya at the fair!

[Edit] I talked Matt into entering some of his photos, too! To view them, go here.

What's My Name Again?

You know you're tired when you can fall asleep on a changing table. This was Robby's case this morning after a night/morning of waking every two hours (or less) to eat, fussing, and refusing to sleep until he just passed out (unless it was on me, of course). The kid won't sleep! He'll fall asleep out of exhaustion for a few minutes and then wake up cranky. He even had the gall to smile at me this morning when I was close to tears and begging him to go to sleep. That's just rude. I don't know what's going on - a growth spurt, a full moon, the Apocalypse - but I hope it wraps up, soon. Mama needs sleep before she cracks. I don't even remember half the feedings last night. I slept through them! Maybe I should try curling up on the changing table. Or in a closet. Or a sound-proof box. I'm not picky at this point.

Great-Aunts

Here are some photos of Robby meeting two of his great aunts (on Matt's side) a couple of weeks ago. Aunt Becky came all the way from Virgina and Aunt JoAnn and her family came all the way from Burley (about 30 miles east of Twin) to meet Robby. We all went out to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant, La Fiesta. I didn't have to feed him the whole time - they wouldn't let me! (Please excuse the quality. These were taken with a cell phone.)Great-Aunt JoAnn

Great-Aunt Becky
Matt and I with his two aunts.
Matt and I

Smile

I saw Robby smile for the first time! I'm pretty sure it was a "legit" smile, too. We had both fallen asleep in the chair after his 6am feeding and then he woke me up at 9am. He started fussing like he always does, so I passed my hand over his forehead to try and calm him down. He stopped crying, looked up at me, and smiled a huge smile as if to say, "Oh! You're still here!". I wanted to bawl. I hope he does it again soon! What a wonderful thing to wake up to.

Daddy & Robby

Daddy looks so tired. :(

I'm Sold

I don't care about all the bad hype about these products - they work! Robby was fussy all afternoon, so finally I decided to try and give him a nice, warm bath to try and calm him down (since it's it's his FAVORITE thing and all). I washed him using the Bedtime Bath and then gave him a little baby massage with the Bedtime Lotion after. As soon as I started slathering the lotion on him, he calmed right down. Thanks Johnson's!

Time's Up!

I said I would take a month off before getting back on the fitness wagon and now that month's up. I kicked it off by all of us going to the CSI fitness trail, today, and walking a mile. It was actually really fun and easier for me to endure than I thought it would be (I admit that I dreaded the idea of trying to get back on track after Robby was born, but knew it had to be done). It gave us a chance to go out as a family and enjoy the beautiful day together.

Robby thought the walk was great. He rode in his stroller, looking around in wonder at everything and then fell asleep. The only time he fussed was when we stopped. He wanted to keep going! It was good for all of us - especially poor Kirby, who's been slightly neglected the past few weeks and has terrible cabin fever.

Oddly enough, it was easier for me to walk a mile today than it was when I first started our Biggest Loser competition last September. If I'm able to easily walk a mile postpartum, but wasn't able to before conceiving, that really shows just how unhealthy I really was. I was really surprised at this. I'm really looking forward to walking during the week with Robby and Kirby, now!

Small Victories

One Month Old!

It doesn't feel like I had a baby a month ago (well, four weeks ago, at least - technically, he's a month on Monday). Man, has time flown! I know it's only going to get worse, too. I'm going to blink and he'll be one. *sniff*

Hungry, Hungry Babies!

Robby went down for bed around 10pm last night, but got me up at 12:45am. I thought it was slightly odd that he would be hungry already (and I admit I wasn't too thrilled with only having an hour "nap"), but I did the nightly routine - change the diaper, feed while trying to stay awake, put him back down, go back to bed. Right. Four hours, 7 oz. of formula (plus a little breast milk somewhere in between), a ten minute nap, and three diaper changes later, I FINALLY got him to go back to sleep, but only in his swing. I didn't think he ever was going to stop eating! I think I can safely say that the boy's going through a growth spurt! Ever since, he's been eating like a horse every couple of hours. Let's just say I'm really glad he's not completely depending on me for nourishment!

Also, with all that he's eaten, I thought I'd send him to the gym, today. Have to watch that figure, Robby!

A HUGE thanks to Grandma Kathy and Grandpa Roger for the baby gym! He loves it!

To view video of him playing, click here.

New Photos

Bath time! He HATES baths, but decided that the water tasted pretty good and was worthy of a break from screaming.

One happy family!

The Good Wife's Guide

This is from the May 1955 Housekeeping Monthly. MUCH different times! Matt found it at work and brought it home for me to read. I'd like to think it was just to make me laugh, but perhaps it was wishful thinking? I hope you have a good laugh, ladies.

The Good Wife's Guide

• Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.
• Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.
• Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.
• Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.
• Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper etc. and then run a dustcloth over the tables.
• Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.
• Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.
• Be happy to see him.
• Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.
• Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
• Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.
• Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquillity where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
• Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
• Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.
• Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
• Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.
• Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.
• A good wife always knows her place.

Grandma & Grandpa Campbell

Robby got to meet his Grandpa Roger and Grandma Kathy (my dad and step mom), today! Needless to say, I think they all hit it off.

True Love

I Love My Boys

The "Big Brother"

Kirby is doing exceptionally well with this huge change, considering he was an only "child" for two years. He was very curious about Robby when he first got here, but now he pretty much ignores him - aside from the occasional glare from across the way when I'm holding or talking to Robby. He's even nice enough to lift his head to watch me walk out of the room for the 3am feedings.

Today, Robby actually decided to stay awake for more than five minutes, so we tried some tummy time. Kirby was enthralled by this wiggling, grunting creature on the floor, as if he'd never seen him before. I called him over and he carefully laid beside Robby on his blanket and sniffed him all over. Then he decided that Robby needed a bath. Robby didn't know what to think (I think he was still wondering why the heck I put him on the floor to begin with). I'm very proud of Kirby, though. He was very gentle with Robby and really wanted to get involved with what was going on.

The Mom Song

My Realizations

Getting peed/pooed/spit up on isn't as horrifying as I once imagined.

Thankfully, most things are washable - myself included.

There is such a thing as "motherly instinct", but unfortunately it's still hit and miss on when it decides to kick on.

I'm more capable than I give myself credit for. I can handle more than I think.

I should have been a sofa or recliner. Evidently I make a pretty good one.

No matter how much I mess up, a nap is a perfect slate-cleaner.

Babies have impeccable timing and can sense "mommy and daddy time" the instant it's even thought of.

It feels good to be needed. I thrive on this feeling of purpose, especially since I've never really felt it before.

You'd be surprised on what can be accomplished on little sleep.

You'd be surprised on what can be accomplished half asleep.

Pacifiers flying at the speed of a sneeze can be highly amusing.

Without sleep, anything is amusing.

Carrying an infant carrier in public is like waltzing into a lion's cage with a package of steaks - you will attract attention very quickly.

Out of all the audiences I've sang for, my son has been the most humbling and fulfilling. I can't help but cry when he looks up at me with such appreciation - even if I can't remember the words or am not on pitch.

Laughter truly is the best medicine.

God has to have a sense of humor.

Spit ups and poop bombs can occur at any given time at any given place.

Pride and parenting cannot co-exist.

There are many colors and textures of poo. None of them are flattering and is the one thing that doesn't go with jeans.

No matter how much you beg and plead a baby for "just five more minutes", it doesn't work.

When it comes to family members, you're the only one who DOESN'T want to hear your baby cry.

Baby boys do not like cold wet wipes.

Baby boys have great timing and aim.

When there's a new baby/new mom combo in the room, everyone in the near vicinity instantly becomes a parenting expert - even if they've never had children.

There really isn't anything interesting on TV at 2am, but even infomercials are entertaining when you're fighting to stay awake.

I am in complete awe of my son. I could honestly stare at him for hours, just studying and admiring him.

Sleep-Deprived Humor

A bit of side story - whenever Robby wakes up, I change his diaper before feeding him. I then lay him in his crib (his changing table is to the right, out of the picture) as I prepare a bottle. He always seems to look towards the stuffed giraffe as if to complain that he just got a cold wet wipe to the crotch and that he's starving. I finally snapped a photo of it and had to commentate.

"The baby tearfully told his tale of woe, but Mr. Giraffe stood silent, smiling apathetically. Damn you, Mr. Giraffe. Damn your heart of stone."

Full Circle

Robby went to church for the first time, today, and did beautifully! We made sure he was good and fed before we left and he slept through the whole service. To make it even more of special event, there's a time near the end of each service where you can go to the front and pray with someone to either pray for something specific or just to thank God for something. We decided to go up and pray with the same gentlemen we prayed with after we found out we were pregnant. He was overcome with emotion once more (I started tearing up, too) as we all stood and prayed together, thanking God for this wonderful blessing and praying for guidance as parents. Matt proudly held Robby and showed him off to everyone (I've never seen such a smile on my husband's face). Everyone thought he was great and it seemed to take forever to get out the door. We'd take about five steps and get stopped and questioned on the details. We proudly retold the story each time. It was a very special Sunday for us!

So True

Lazy Saturday Photos

Stupity - It's Supply and Demand!

Robby went in for his two week check-up, today, and I'm happy to report a clean bill of health! He did lose 5oz., but she didn't seem too concerned about it. She wanted me to bring him in in a month instead of two just to make sure he's gaining enough weight, but I think it was just the source being stupid. Which brings me to my story of why I say "she" instead of "he"...

Dr. Dan, Robby and I's doctor, wasn't in the office today, so I was stuck with a nurse practitioner. She was nice enough, but had a major hearing problem - and not the Helen Keller kind of hearing problem (no tact, here), but the "I hear you, but I just don't care what you're saying" kind of hearing problem. First, she was giving me a hard time because I wasn't having him circumcised and I had to explain my reasoning why and how we had debated and researched it thoroughly (I felt like I had to prove my case in court), but she still was questioning why I wasn't doing it and offered that we do it next time when Dr. Dan got back. Uh, no! He's REALLY going to feel it, then! Then she got on me for not fully breastfeeding him and couldn't get it through her head why, even though I explained that part of my "case", too. "It's supply and demand, " she kept telling me. "I know," I said, "but that's the thing - I'm just not supplying enough for his demand." "Oh, well, it takes time." "So, I'm supposed to let him starve until then?" I said. "Well, it's supply and demand." Um, is your repeat button stuck or something? I tried to explain that it runs in my family, how I had tried to exclusively breastfeed, but he wasn't getting enough and was starving, and that he's perfectly happy, now, and still getting a little breast milk, but she just kept repeating the same thing over and over again. Then she told me, "You need to stop feeding him formula. He's going to get hooked on it and won't feed from the breast and then your supply will go down." Echo...echo...echo. Evidently, there is no intelligent life on her planet. At that point, I just tuned her out, so I couldn't tell you what other pearls of medical wisdom she had to share. All I know is I was there for an hour, most of which was spent with her mindless dribble about supply and demand and icky uncircumcised penises (what kind of mother am I?), when Dr. Dan would have had me in and out in 15-20 minutes flat, minus the hassle. I miss Dr. Dan.