So, I packed up her newborn clothes and brought out the 0-3/3 month size clothes.
Here she is, modeling the latest (if not totally unpractical) baby wear: 3 month size JEANS:
Passed out (milk coma):
Friday, August 26, 2011
Movin' on up
I think we are just about out of the newborn clothes. Most (it depends on the brand) newborn sizes are tight on her. Especially the footsies. Corinne isn't wide, but she is long. Her little (or, should I say, big) feet are straining against the footsie pouch in the newborn sizes.
So, I packed up her newborn clothes and brought out the 0-3/3 month size clothes.
Here she is, modeling the latest (if not totally unpractical) baby wear: 3 month size JEANS:
Passed out (milk coma):
So, I packed up her newborn clothes and brought out the 0-3/3 month size clothes.
Here she is, modeling the latest (if not totally unpractical) baby wear: 3 month size JEANS:
Passed out (milk coma):
Waking Up
Seriously, is there anything cuter than watching a baby wake up?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_as4eN0n_Dw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_as4eN0n_Dw
Thursday, August 25, 2011
My apologies to the cat
The poor, poor kitty.
I have a "breastfeeding" station. It consists of a corner of the family room where resides a side table, a glider/recliner, and a folding TV tray. I keep everything I need for the boobs there: water bottle, remote controls, pump, laptop, pillows, burp cloths, glasses, bulb syringe, vitamins, and a little plastic container with a bit of water in it and the nipple shield. The nipple shield is probably the most important thing in our household. More important than our trust documents, or our wedding album, or my grandmother's small diamond ring. Corinne doesn't eat without it (unless she's eating from the frozen stash).
Anyways, a few mornings ago, Corinne and I woke up and she was HUNGRY. When she is HUNGRY I have exactly 3.72561274 seconds before she goes into full on "ZOMG why are you starving me you horrible, horrible woman! Call CPS!" meltdown mode. So, I quickly sprinted to the feeding chair, exposed a breast, and reached for the little plastic container that contains the nipple shield.
But, It. Was. Not. There.
Panic ensued. I looked all around the floor, thinking, "maybe it fell?" Nothing. Then I see the cat, lying on the couch, looking at me as if to say "Mmmmm...it's a nice day, isn't it?"
Now, Kitty has a penchant for picking things up, playing with them, and leaving them places. She LOVES taking things out of vases, or bottles, or glasses, or really anything that she can fit a paw into. There is a reason why we use water bottles in the household instead of water glasses. Water glasses will be tipped over and the cat will play in the water gleefully.
Gd-f*cking-dammit Kitty. You took my only shield (I had two, but I think I left one in MN). I then looked all over the house looking for that damn shield, wherever Kitty may have left it once she was done playing with it. I got down on all fours and searched under every couch, under every table, all while holding a screaming baby who, I'm sure, was busy plotting my demise at this point.
Boobs leaking, I gave in and took out a bag of frozen milk and put it in warm water to thaw it. 10 minutes later, and I had a more contented baby busily slurping from a bottle. Then I thought, "Hmmm...I wonder if...."
I went to the bed, and there on the sheets was the nipple shield. During the previous feeding at 5a, I apparently forgot to take it off my breast and return it to the plastic container. Instead, I wore it back to bed, and it fell off during the sleeping process.
I apologized to the cat for briefly considering throwing her over the fence for Cooper, the neighbor's continually barking dog, to play with.
I wish the story ended there.
Later on that day, I gave Corinne a bath. She gets quite cold during the bath, so afterwards, I take advantage of the crazy summer heat and take her outside to sit in the screened-in porch and let her dry naked-ly. Now, it had appeared the cat had forgiven me for my un-pure thoughts that morning during, what will be now be known as, "The Nipple Shield Fiasco of 2011".
Kitty wanted to join us on the porch, so I opened the door and let the cat join us. After a few minutes, Corinne was nice and toasty, so we went back in. I called to the cat, but she didn't come. Usually, I'll open the bottom sash of the window, so that Kitty can come back into the house from the porch when she wants. However, due to the heat, there was no way in hell I was leaving a window open. So, I made a mental note to come back in a few minutes and force the cat back in. Well, once we were inside, Corinne decided she was HUNGRY, giving me 3.72561274 seconds to put something in her mouth.
Now, Corinne isn't the world's fastest eater. She likes to savor her food, which means a feeding can take anywhere from 30-60 minutes to complete. About 10 minutes into the feeding session, I heard, what sounded like, the cat playing with something. And boy, she sounded like she was having fun! Lots of noise coming from the other room! Our house is pretty well cat-proofed, so I decided to let Kitty have her fun and I would clean up whatever mess she made later.
Her playing sounds got louder and louder. Wow, she must have been having a BALL! This went on for another half hour or so, and the playing sounds just kept getting louder and louder. Then, she started meowing...Wow! Today must have been HappySuperFunDay for the cat. I figured I would now have a BIG mess to clean up, but I felt guilty for blaming that cat for stealing the shield earlier, so I decided we were even after this. After Corinne was well fed, I went into the other room to survey the HappySuperFunDay mess. Only, there was no cat. And no mess.
Odd.
I followed the sounds of the meowing to the door which leads out to the porch. There was the poor, pitiful Kitty meowing her heart out while scratching at the door (the source of the sounds of the "playing") to pleasepleasepleaseohdeargodpleasepleaseplease let her back in. I had forgotten her on the porch.
It's official, I am the world's worst Kitty owner. I felt so bad, I gave her Kitten Treats, even though she's on a diet.
Thankfully, she forgave me about 5 seconds later and happily sniffed around, looking for more Kitten Treats:
I have a "breastfeeding" station. It consists of a corner of the family room where resides a side table, a glider/recliner, and a folding TV tray. I keep everything I need for the boobs there: water bottle, remote controls, pump, laptop, pillows, burp cloths, glasses, bulb syringe, vitamins, and a little plastic container with a bit of water in it and the nipple shield. The nipple shield is probably the most important thing in our household. More important than our trust documents, or our wedding album, or my grandmother's small diamond ring. Corinne doesn't eat without it (unless she's eating from the frozen stash).
Anyways, a few mornings ago, Corinne and I woke up and she was HUNGRY. When she is HUNGRY I have exactly 3.72561274 seconds before she goes into full on "ZOMG why are you starving me you horrible, horrible woman! Call CPS!" meltdown mode. So, I quickly sprinted to the feeding chair, exposed a breast, and reached for the little plastic container that contains the nipple shield.
But, It. Was. Not. There.
Panic ensued. I looked all around the floor, thinking, "maybe it fell?" Nothing. Then I see the cat, lying on the couch, looking at me as if to say "Mmmmm...it's a nice day, isn't it?"
Now, Kitty has a penchant for picking things up, playing with them, and leaving them places. She LOVES taking things out of vases, or bottles, or glasses, or really anything that she can fit a paw into. There is a reason why we use water bottles in the household instead of water glasses. Water glasses will be tipped over and the cat will play in the water gleefully.
Gd-f*cking-dammit Kitty. You took my only shield (I had two, but I think I left one in MN). I then looked all over the house looking for that damn shield, wherever Kitty may have left it once she was done playing with it. I got down on all fours and searched under every couch, under every table, all while holding a screaming baby who, I'm sure, was busy plotting my demise at this point.
Boobs leaking, I gave in and took out a bag of frozen milk and put it in warm water to thaw it. 10 minutes later, and I had a more contented baby busily slurping from a bottle. Then I thought, "Hmmm...I wonder if...."
I went to the bed, and there on the sheets was the nipple shield. During the previous feeding at 5a, I apparently forgot to take it off my breast and return it to the plastic container. Instead, I wore it back to bed, and it fell off during the sleeping process.
I apologized to the cat for briefly considering throwing her over the fence for Cooper, the neighbor's continually barking dog, to play with.
I wish the story ended there.
Later on that day, I gave Corinne a bath. She gets quite cold during the bath, so afterwards, I take advantage of the crazy summer heat and take her outside to sit in the screened-in porch and let her dry naked-ly. Now, it had appeared the cat had forgiven me for my un-pure thoughts that morning during, what will be now be known as, "The Nipple Shield Fiasco of 2011".
Kitty wanted to join us on the porch, so I opened the door and let the cat join us. After a few minutes, Corinne was nice and toasty, so we went back in. I called to the cat, but she didn't come. Usually, I'll open the bottom sash of the window, so that Kitty can come back into the house from the porch when she wants. However, due to the heat, there was no way in hell I was leaving a window open. So, I made a mental note to come back in a few minutes and force the cat back in. Well, once we were inside, Corinne decided she was HUNGRY, giving me 3.72561274 seconds to put something in her mouth.
Now, Corinne isn't the world's fastest eater. She likes to savor her food, which means a feeding can take anywhere from 30-60 minutes to complete. About 10 minutes into the feeding session, I heard, what sounded like, the cat playing with something. And boy, she sounded like she was having fun! Lots of noise coming from the other room! Our house is pretty well cat-proofed, so I decided to let Kitty have her fun and I would clean up whatever mess she made later.
Her playing sounds got louder and louder. Wow, she must have been having a BALL! This went on for another half hour or so, and the playing sounds just kept getting louder and louder. Then, she started meowing...Wow! Today must have been HappySuperFunDay for the cat. I figured I would now have a BIG mess to clean up, but I felt guilty for blaming that cat for stealing the shield earlier, so I decided we were even after this. After Corinne was well fed, I went into the other room to survey the HappySuperFunDay mess. Only, there was no cat. And no mess.
Odd.
I followed the sounds of the meowing to the door which leads out to the porch. There was the poor, pitiful Kitty meowing her heart out while scratching at the door (the source of the sounds of the "playing") to pleasepleasepleaseohdeargodpleasepleaseplease let her back in. I had forgotten her on the porch.
 |
| Similar to how the kitty looked. I hope I captured the pitifulness of the situation. |
It's official, I am the world's worst Kitty owner. I felt so bad, I gave her Kitten Treats, even though she's on a diet.
Thankfully, she forgave me about 5 seconds later and happily sniffed around, looking for more Kitten Treats:
 |
| The cat, thinking maybe Corinne had some more Kitten Treats |
Crap no one tells you
This is stuff that is lost in memory to the annuals of time. When you ask mothers for the details about a birth they say "you know, I really don't remember".
This is recorded so that when someone asks, I can say "You know, I really don't remember but give me a minute, I can look it up for you."
-After a c section, your belly will be numb from the belly button to the pubic area. Oh, and flabby, too. Flabby and numb.
-While in the hospital, they give you these black leg warmers that squeeze your calves to prevent blood clots. Problem is, each time you need to get up, you have to disconnect yourself from them.
-Night sweats. For about a week after birth, you will sweat out about 3 gallons of liquid a night, soaking your sheets (even if you aren't even warm/hot).
-12 hours after your c section, two nurses will make you get out of bed and will have you sit on the toilet while they clean the blood between your legs. Any semblance of dignity you had up to that point is washed away with that little squirt bottle the nurses use.
-The first time you see your baby, you may think "Ummm....whose kid IS this?"
-You will think that the hospital staff is nucking futs for letting you leave the hospital with a needy baby. That "this is how you take care of a baby" epiphany you were banking on that was supposed to come during the birth process never arrives.
-The drugs they give you for pain causes wicked constipation. Pooping becomes an Olympic event.
-Kids' music is rather annoying. Even to parents. Apparently musical taste does NOT die during the birthing process, despite your friends' evidence to the contrary.
-Breastmilk poop stinks. It does not smell like "buttermilk", or have a "sweet aroma". It smells like....shit.
This is recorded so that when someone asks, I can say "You know, I really don't remember but give me a minute, I can look it up for you."
-After a c section, your belly will be numb from the belly button to the pubic area. Oh, and flabby, too. Flabby and numb.
-While in the hospital, they give you these black leg warmers that squeeze your calves to prevent blood clots. Problem is, each time you need to get up, you have to disconnect yourself from them.
-Night sweats. For about a week after birth, you will sweat out about 3 gallons of liquid a night, soaking your sheets (even if you aren't even warm/hot).
-12 hours after your c section, two nurses will make you get out of bed and will have you sit on the toilet while they clean the blood between your legs. Any semblance of dignity you had up to that point is washed away with that little squirt bottle the nurses use.
-The first time you see your baby, you may think "Ummm....whose kid IS this?"
-You will think that the hospital staff is nucking futs for letting you leave the hospital with a needy baby. That "this is how you take care of a baby" epiphany you were banking on that was supposed to come during the birth process never arrives.
-The drugs they give you for pain causes wicked constipation. Pooping becomes an Olympic event.
-Kids' music is rather annoying. Even to parents. Apparently musical taste does NOT die during the birthing process, despite your friends' evidence to the contrary.
-Breastmilk poop stinks. It does not smell like "buttermilk", or have a "sweet aroma". It smells like....shit.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Umbilical Hernia
Corinne doesn't have a cute "widdle" belly button. Rather, she has this massive growth that resembles:
Apparently, umbilical hernias are common in babies. However, I don't ever recall seeing a baby that was sporting K2 on their belly.
I had the Dr check it out yesterday. I learned that as long as it's "soft", meaning that you can push it back in, and not bright purple, then it's fine. The process of sticking your finger in it to push Corinne's intestines back through the hole between her belly muscles is an interesting and slightly gross experience, which reminds me sticking one's finger in soft cheese.
As her belly muscles firm up, the hole between her muscles will close, and the intestines will not be poking out anymore. This should happen by 1 year of age or so. If she still is sporting a growth that requires the skills of a sherpa, then there can be minor surgery done to repair the issue (the surgery involves sewing the two muscles together).
So, I'm filing this under "weird baby crap that no one bothered to tell me about". I'm finding out there's a lot of stuff on this list.
Apparently, umbilical hernias are common in babies. However, I don't ever recall seeing a baby that was sporting K2 on their belly.
I had the Dr check it out yesterday. I learned that as long as it's "soft", meaning that you can push it back in, and not bright purple, then it's fine. The process of sticking your finger in it to push Corinne's intestines back through the hole between her belly muscles is an interesting and slightly gross experience, which reminds me sticking one's finger in soft cheese.
As her belly muscles firm up, the hole between her muscles will close, and the intestines will not be poking out anymore. This should happen by 1 year of age or so. If she still is sporting a growth that requires the skills of a sherpa, then there can be minor surgery done to repair the issue (the surgery involves sewing the two muscles together).
So, I'm filing this under "weird baby crap that no one bothered to tell me about". I'm finding out there's a lot of stuff on this list.
 |
| "The Growth" <-----not said in relation to the baby, but rather the thing sticking out from the belly |
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
3 month birthday
Corinne celebrated her 3 month birthday by eating, sleeping, pooping (including a diaper blowout...time to move from newborn size diapers to size 1 diapers), and going to Costco. Since she's too young for birthday cake, I ate a Costco $1.00 churro in her honor. She looked at me with a puzzled look while I told her how tasty her birthday churro was.
She is starting to smile. Sometimes, the smile coincides with Matt or I smiling at her. I think I have myself convinced that she's smiling in RESPONSE to us, rather than just because. But, that's probably wishful thinking on my part since I'm not able to duplicate the results with any sort of pattern.
Comparison Pictures:
She is starting to smile. Sometimes, the smile coincides with Matt or I smiling at her. I think I have myself convinced that she's smiling in RESPONSE to us, rather than just because. But, that's probably wishful thinking on my part since I'm not able to duplicate the results with any sort of pattern.
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| 3 months (8lb 2oz) |
Comparison Pictures:
 |
| 2 months (6lb 12oz) |
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| 1 month (3lb 14oz) |
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| 5 days old (2lbs 7 oz) |
First Trip
M's cousin was getting married in Minnesota over the weekend. We debated on taking Corinne on the trip (which included a 2 hour plane flight). However, after speaking to her doctor, and getting the green light (being sure to sipe everything down with sanitizing wipes, keeping grabby strangers at bay, quizing anyone who wanted to hold her "have you washed your hands, has anyone in your household been sick in the last week, etc"), we left on Thursday and came back on Monday. She did great on the flights. She nursed, cooed and slept. The ideal baby.
 |
| An attempted stow-away |
While in MN, I met up with a friend who was due two weeks after I was. A stranger came up to us and asked if the babies were twins.
The first night we were there, we made sure to hit up Chino Latino for dinner. Yum yum yum. M had a blue Hawaiian and I had a hard cider. Corinne looked longingly at the drinks, I think.
 |
| M's aunt and Corinne |
The wedding was held at the bride's parents house in northern MN. There were about 250 guests, and a handful of babies. The next youngest baby was 7 weeks old (Corinne is 4 weeks old, adjusted), and he was a big boy. So, Corinne was the most petite baby there, which earned her lots of "ZOMG, she's soooo cute" comments. I had to agree with everyone's assessment of her. She finally got to wear her intended "coming home outfit" that I had picked out for her, since it finally fit. As the temperature got cooler during the night, I changed her into warm sleeper PJ's, but I was glad to see that the "coming home outfit" finally got some use.
M's cousin, the groom, is on the right, holding his son, who was born last October (were there ANY baby boys NOT born last October?!?). His twin, the best man is in the middle, and M is on the left. The "theme" of the wedding was "backyard DIY", so instead of wearing tuxes, the groom and best man wore checkered shirts.
 |
| Waiting for the ceremony to start |
 |
| M's extended family |
 |
| The vows |
All eyes may have been on the bride, but M's eyes were somewhere else. So was the lens of my camera.
 |
| During the ceremony |
Halfway through the ceremony, Corinne started her evening fussiness, so M took her on a walk.
The reception was held in a tent in the front yard of the bride's parent's house. Corinne slept through most of it, even the fireworks that were set off, and the live band that played. It was nice having the wedding at a house, as that meant I could retreat into the house to nurse. There was a comfy couch in the den that I parked myself on.
There was a really weird chick at the wedding who had a 2 year old son. The chick was the cousin of the bride. The night before the wedding, we were at the "rehearsal dinner" with about 50 other guests, which was held at the bride's parent's house. M and I were in the den talking, while I was nursing Corinne. This weird chick came in the room, said something to us, and then left. I didn't pay much attention, but I learned after the fact that she told us to be quiet since her 2 year old son was sleeping in another room. I guess Corinne was slurping too loud? The next day at the wedding, she brought her son again, and put him to sleep in the house. She then went around shushing anyone who was in the house (mind you, this was a wedding with fireworks, a live band, and 250 guests), and set up printed signs everywhere saying that her baby was sleeping, so people needed to be quiet. Apparently, the drama came to head when the best man's girlfriend went down into the basement (where the crazy chick's son was napping) to get the best man's jacket, and the crazy chick told her off for being in the same room as her sleeping son.
Despite the crazy chick, it was a really fun wedding. They didn't have a wedding cake, but they had a s'more bar near the firepit. I lost count on how many s'mores I made that night. Corinne enjoyed being held by the warm fire. Around 11p, the s'more bar turned into a s'more and hot dog bar, which was great for a midnight snack after dancing and drinking for most the night.
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| Snoozing during the reception |
The next day after the wedding, we did a little sightseeing and went to Lake Superior:
Monday, August 8, 2011
Scales & Butt Ruffles
On Friday, I went to my first "mommy and me" meet up. This one's focus is breastfeeding. Pretty much, there are about 20 of us (plus a lactation consultant) all sitting in a circle with our boobs out taking about what worked in regards to breastfeeding, what hasn't worked, etc. I had a pretty good time and will go back next week (they meet twice a month). It's like a free appointment with the lactation consultant (LC). Plus, they have a hospital-grade baby scale there, so you can weigh the baby before and after the feeding to see how much the baby is eating.
1 gram = 1cc
30cc = 1oz
I also asked the LC about getting a home scale for myself so I could see how much Corinne is eating (at this point, we're mostly breastfeeding, minus the two bottles I give in the morning and night with her meds in them).
That afternoon, I packed up the Medela Symphony, which is the hospital grade pump I have been using ever since she was born. My insurance covered the $79/month rental fee, but only up until Corinne was discharged from the NICU. After that, I have to pay 100% for it. I was glad to see it go. I hated pumping. I hated pumping many times a day. Now, I just pump once in the mornings using my Medela pump in style advanced (PISA) that a friend gave me. It's not the workhorse that the Symphony is, but it's fine for the occasional pumpings to drain the girls after Corinne has her breakfast.
When I dropped off the breastpump at the hospital, I rented a hospital grade scale. It's not cheap...$5/day, so I'm renting it for 5 days, and then will re-rent it in about another 6 weeks for a week.
The nurse who I was renting it from asked me if I had gone over to the NICU to show off Corinne in all of her "looks like a full term baby" glory. I said I hadn't, as I thought no outside babies could go in the NICU. She winked and said that rule didn't apply to NICU grads. The nurses love seeing their "graduates". So, off we went. All the nurses cooed and ooh-ed and ahh-ed over her. I walked past our old room. There was a new resident in it. Her name was "Anna". The room looked so familar and yet so foriegn at the same time. I had tears well up in the corners of my eyes. I know not everyone has a happy story in the NICU. Everyday, I am thankful that our story ended happily, and wonder why did I get so lucky?
Her weights have been anywhere between 7lb12oz and 7lb15oz, depending on how full her diaper is and the clothes she is wearing.
The cat is weighing in at 14lbs. Tubby.
I nursed in public for the first time. On Saturday, I met up with two friends for lunch in the city. Corinne started getting Crabby McCraberson on me, so I gave her a boob at the restaurant table (appropiate, since Saturday was World Breastfeeding Day, or something like that.). Unfortunatly, both of us are used to breastfeeding with the Boppy pillow, and we couldn't find a good position to do it in sans pillow. Which made her get even MORE crabby. Not to mention, I tried using the nursing cover, which pissed Corinne off even MORE, since she does.not.like.fabric.touching.her.face. Thankfully, I brought the Boppy with me (it was in the car), so I went to the parking lot, turned on the car A/C and nursed a contented baby who thankfully slept the hour long drive home.
My friend brought her son. Her son and Luke were due at the same time. It's hard (but getting easier as time goes on) to not look at him and wonder "what if".
While Corinne plays on the tummy time mat/play-yard thing, she kick off any blanket I attempt to put over her. And, since the ceiling fan is on, I don't want her to get cold. So, for her tummy play time, I'll put her in a long sleeved/pant jumper. These things are a bitch to put on and take off after each diaper change. So many snaps! I'm a personal fan of the onesise. One snap (I don't bother doing all three because I'm lazy as sin) and I'm done. While combing through her dresser last night, I found this:
Here she is, modeling the cutest fasion accessory of the infant wardrobe: the butt ruffle. Good God, I am a total sucker for witty sayings printed on onesies and butt ruffles. It just makes her tush look so cute and pat-able.
A video to enjoy:
1 gram = 1cc
30cc = 1oz
I also asked the LC about getting a home scale for myself so I could see how much Corinne is eating (at this point, we're mostly breastfeeding, minus the two bottles I give in the morning and night with her meds in them).
That afternoon, I packed up the Medela Symphony, which is the hospital grade pump I have been using ever since she was born. My insurance covered the $79/month rental fee, but only up until Corinne was discharged from the NICU. After that, I have to pay 100% for it. I was glad to see it go. I hated pumping. I hated pumping many times a day. Now, I just pump once in the mornings using my Medela pump in style advanced (PISA) that a friend gave me. It's not the workhorse that the Symphony is, but it's fine for the occasional pumpings to drain the girls after Corinne has her breakfast.
 |
| The Symphony...aka my nemesis for the last 2.5 months |
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| My new buddy: the PISA pump |
The nurse who I was renting it from asked me if I had gone over to the NICU to show off Corinne in all of her "looks like a full term baby" glory. I said I hadn't, as I thought no outside babies could go in the NICU. She winked and said that rule didn't apply to NICU grads. The nurses love seeing their "graduates". So, off we went. All the nurses cooed and ooh-ed and ahh-ed over her. I walked past our old room. There was a new resident in it. Her name was "Anna". The room looked so familar and yet so foriegn at the same time. I had tears well up in the corners of my eyes. I know not everyone has a happy story in the NICU. Everyday, I am thankful that our story ended happily, and wonder why did I get so lucky?
 |
| Baby on a scale |
The cat is weighing in at 14lbs. Tubby.
I nursed in public for the first time. On Saturday, I met up with two friends for lunch in the city. Corinne started getting Crabby McCraberson on me, so I gave her a boob at the restaurant table (appropiate, since Saturday was World Breastfeeding Day, or something like that.). Unfortunatly, both of us are used to breastfeeding with the Boppy pillow, and we couldn't find a good position to do it in sans pillow. Which made her get even MORE crabby. Not to mention, I tried using the nursing cover, which pissed Corinne off even MORE, since she does.not.like.fabric.touching.her.face. Thankfully, I brought the Boppy with me (it was in the car), so I went to the parking lot, turned on the car A/C and nursed a contented baby who thankfully slept the hour long drive home.
My friend brought her son. Her son and Luke were due at the same time. It's hard (but getting easier as time goes on) to not look at him and wonder "what if".
While Corinne plays on the tummy time mat/play-yard thing, she kick off any blanket I attempt to put over her. And, since the ceiling fan is on, I don't want her to get cold. So, for her tummy play time, I'll put her in a long sleeved/pant jumper. These things are a bitch to put on and take off after each diaper change. So many snaps! I'm a personal fan of the onesise. One snap (I don't bother doing all three because I'm lazy as sin) and I'm done. While combing through her dresser last night, I found this:
Here she is, modeling the cutest fasion accessory of the infant wardrobe: the butt ruffle. Good God, I am a total sucker for witty sayings printed on onesies and butt ruffles. It just makes her tush look so cute and pat-able.
 |
| Don't you just want to pat it? |
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| Practicing head control |
A video to enjoy:
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Back in a bed
Ever since Corinne came home (minus two nights where we tried to make her sleep in her bassinet=epic fail), she and I have been sleeping on the couch together.
Well, realizing that I probably wasn't going to move back into our bedroom anytime soon, M and I brought down on of the guest beds to the green room downstairs. Last night, Corinne and I slept in a real bed, and it was awesome! Whoever comes into our house is going to wonder why there is a bed in the "formal living room" (which we call the green room...self explanitory explanation below) and wonder what sort of martial discourse is occuring. The ceiling fan in the green room is kind of broken (where if you want the fan on, the light HAS to be on), so I didn't use the ceiling fan. Instead, I took a box fan and stuck it right next to the a/c vent on the floor to move the cool air around. The box fan is fairly loud, providing that static white noise babies are suppossed to love. Corinne is quite content in that room.
We even successfully did the side-laying nursing position last night, which meant I could get a little light sleep while she used me as a human pacifier. I tried to re-create the results again this morning, and it was a no go. She has to lay straight, and she kept wanting to roll up in a little ball like a roly poly:
Corinne has one pretty good sleep stretch between midnight and 4a right now. It is 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep that I get and depend on. At 2a this morning, M wakes me up (now mind you, in order for him to wake me up, he has to exit the master bedroom and walk down the hall into the green room) to tell me that it was lightening outside, but there was no thunder. Seriously? Seriously. I may have taught Corinne a few curse words.
I told him this morning that unless we were being attacked by Klingons or Corinne was on fire, to not wake my ass up. Even if he was on fire. His fire could wait until morning. Don't take away my 4 hours. It's all I get some days. I was nursing at 4:30a this morning, and heard thunder but didn't see lightening. It took all my self control to not go into the bedroom and wake HIS ass up to tell him about this amazing turn of events.
Ever since Corinne was born, it has been like Christmas in July (and May and June). Packages arrived almost daily with cute baby things inside from distant friends and family. Now, being that it has been 2.5 months since she was born, Christmas was drying up (which probably made the UPS guys VERY happy to not have to get out of the truck and deliver packages at our front door). But, a package came yesterday from my sister and her husband with some super cute outfits inside.
Here is Corinne modeling one of them. Thankfully, they are Carter newborn size (as opposed to Gerber newborn size), so she still has a bit of room to grow into them:
Knowing that I'll need to figure out how to nurse in public in the near future (since we have a few out of town trips coming up), I played around with slings yesterday to try to find one that she could nurse discreetly in. I put her in a Balboa sling, and not less than 2 minutes after I put her in, I felt and heard a pooplosion. So, I took her out, and went to change her. I noticed that she had poo on her foot. Odd. Then I noticed the poo smell was....strong. I looked down and my whole arm was covered in poo. How did this happen? I then looked inside the sling. Oh. Ewww.
I've always heard that poo isn't as gross when it's your OWN baby's poo. Yeah...I'm not buying it. That shnizz is still gross.
Here is the outift she ruined (thankfully, it's breastmilk poo, so it should come out in the wash quite well). It was a really cute outfit too. I call it her gay pride outfit (since it's rainbow striped). Marriage equality for all, right sweetie? Not even 3 months old, and she's socially aware (and looks darn good doing it...so cute!)
Well, realizing that I probably wasn't going to move back into our bedroom anytime soon, M and I brought down on of the guest beds to the green room downstairs. Last night, Corinne and I slept in a real bed, and it was awesome! Whoever comes into our house is going to wonder why there is a bed in the "formal living room" (which we call the green room...self explanitory explanation below) and wonder what sort of martial discourse is occuring. The ceiling fan in the green room is kind of broken (where if you want the fan on, the light HAS to be on), so I didn't use the ceiling fan. Instead, I took a box fan and stuck it right next to the a/c vent on the floor to move the cool air around. The box fan is fairly loud, providing that static white noise babies are suppossed to love. Corinne is quite content in that room.
We even successfully did the side-laying nursing position last night, which meant I could get a little light sleep while she used me as a human pacifier. I tried to re-create the results again this morning, and it was a no go. She has to lay straight, and she kept wanting to roll up in a little ball like a roly poly:
Corinne has one pretty good sleep stretch between midnight and 4a right now. It is 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep that I get and depend on. At 2a this morning, M wakes me up (now mind you, in order for him to wake me up, he has to exit the master bedroom and walk down the hall into the green room) to tell me that it was lightening outside, but there was no thunder. Seriously? Seriously. I may have taught Corinne a few curse words.
I told him this morning that unless we were being attacked by Klingons or Corinne was on fire, to not wake my ass up. Even if he was on fire. His fire could wait until morning. Don't take away my 4 hours. It's all I get some days. I was nursing at 4:30a this morning, and heard thunder but didn't see lightening. It took all my self control to not go into the bedroom and wake HIS ass up to tell him about this amazing turn of events.
Ever since Corinne was born, it has been like Christmas in July (and May and June). Packages arrived almost daily with cute baby things inside from distant friends and family. Now, being that it has been 2.5 months since she was born, Christmas was drying up (which probably made the UPS guys VERY happy to not have to get out of the truck and deliver packages at our front door). But, a package came yesterday from my sister and her husband with some super cute outfits inside.
Here is Corinne modeling one of them. Thankfully, they are Carter newborn size (as opposed to Gerber newborn size), so she still has a bit of room to grow into them:
Knowing that I'll need to figure out how to nurse in public in the near future (since we have a few out of town trips coming up), I played around with slings yesterday to try to find one that she could nurse discreetly in. I put her in a Balboa sling, and not less than 2 minutes after I put her in, I felt and heard a pooplosion. So, I took her out, and went to change her. I noticed that she had poo on her foot. Odd. Then I noticed the poo smell was....strong. I looked down and my whole arm was covered in poo. How did this happen? I then looked inside the sling. Oh. Ewww.
I've always heard that poo isn't as gross when it's your OWN baby's poo. Yeah...I'm not buying it. That shnizz is still gross.
Here is the outift she ruined (thankfully, it's breastmilk poo, so it should come out in the wash quite well). It was a really cute outfit too. I call it her gay pride outfit (since it's rainbow striped). Marriage equality for all, right sweetie? Not even 3 months old, and she's socially aware (and looks darn good doing it...so cute!)
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