Kodak Moments

I'm finally getting around to organizing and downloading all of Jude's pictures thus far onto cds from my iPhone and iPhoto library so that I can get them all printed. My goal is to have boxes and albums of his baby pictures to physically go through some day when he goes off to college and I'm inevitably suffering from empty nest syndrome. I want to be surrounded by a floor covered in scattered pictures of the Duder to sift through and cry all over.

I didn't realize just how many I've already accumulated since he was born. This is natural and normal I'm sure for a mom and her first baby, but I believe that my generation of parents will have epic collections of baby pictures of their children compared to any other generation due to the sheer capacity of pictures current technology allows us to take.

Since digital cameras have come out, and I started using them, I realized that I really don't have hard physical copies of pictures anymore- with the exception of randoms I had printed for one reason or another. My once extensive collection of hard copy photo albums stop around 2004 and everything shot from then on out are on my computer in files.

I miss photo albums. I miss flipping through an entire series of images from roll of film that captured a specific slice of time in my life. I was thinking about old photos of my brother and I- family pictures- and it made me want to start better documenting my photograph collection. Before Jude, having my pictures on the computer was enough. But now I have the most precious pictures of my life on-hand and I must do something fantastic with them. Taylor and I- and Jude of course- will be glad I did.

I imagine myself thumbing through photo albums with Jude and future siblings of his and pointing out all of the wonderful things and images that make my heart sing right now. Then I imagine someday showing grandkids pictures of their parents when they were babies in those same dusty albums. This makes me happy in a way I never imagined I could feel before.

But.... !!!!!

There are SO many of them already! I mean, do I really need ten different shots of the same new and/or cute thing Jude does? Not really. But digital cameras let us snap and study each picture to make sure it's juuuust right. Then, after the perfect shot is established, why delete the others you took to get there? Hell, they're ALL cute- each in very subtle different ways that only the parent taking the picture will notice. So you wind up with an entire series of pictures of the same, priceless moment.

Case in point:







I mean, how does a mom choose which one to keep??? It's impossible. So I just keep them all. Like today. Jude actually didn't fight tummy time for like 10 minutes and amazed me and my iPhone with his fantastic skills with holding up his endearingly large cranium (and I say that in the most loving way- the kid has a large head to house his large brain!).

~can't...stop...taking...pictures....~






I have slightly different shots of pretty much every best picture I have of him, and every one of them are special in their own ways. The more the merrier, I say. Kids are only so small for so long- and people never shine like they do when they are brand new in the world!

Hair

Been surfing the net for information on postpartum hair loss. Gross, I know. It just sounds like something that you get when you are old. "Postpartum." The term baffles my belief in my own age and the point that I've reached in life. I'm a mommy looking up postpartum hair loss on the Internet. Physically seeing those words makes it all hit home even more, but little things like that throughout my daily routine lately do that to me.

I've been told that after you have your baby, all that hair you cease to lose while you are pregnant suddenly decides to finally fall out. I had no idea it would be so crazy severe. I'm talking, I'm shocked I don't have bald spots all over my head already from pulling out clumps of it. My mom said that her hair was never the same after she had my brother and I- that it got very thin and fine. So, perhaps I'm needing to let go of pre-Mommy hair and accept my postpartum locks...eh. Nah.

So I went and got my first haircut since Jude was born today in an attempt to make myself feel better with what I've got to work with- which is still a lot considering I've got wicked thick hair (for now, my mom speculated...geez. Thanks!). I've worn it long and down my back for forever, but these days I don't have the time it takes to spend a half hour blow drying it and another 20 to flat iron it. It's pretty much impossible to do anything with a squirmy, fussy baby wanting your attention. He makes me realize just how little it matters if my hair is flat ironed anymore.

Taylor prefers long hair, as do I, so I had promised that I wouldn't cut it all off. I promised that I wouldn't pull a "mom-life crisis" and chop my hair all short because I have a baby now. NEVER. I see too many chicks doing this and it always disappoints me. Sure I'm in for more iron baby fist incidents, but that's what hair ties are for. I'll deal with it.

Jude's hair is starting to grow now and it has me wondering what color it will be. Right now it's growing in kind of like a Marine/Jarhead type style- really short around the sides and thicker and longer only on the very top of his head. I like to brush it back and give him what we call the "Chicken Hawk."

In other news, here are some pics from the week. I took Jude and Gretchen for a walk the other day and got to let Jude rock the sunglasses. There isn't a whole lot in this world that is cuter and more hilarious than a baby wearing sunglasses.



I found a great way to knock him out when he's fighting nap time. Reading Newsweek magazine to him had the Zzzzs going in about 10 minutes. I thought that the article on the downfall of Christian America was super interesting. I guess he didn't.

Going Green

I'm selling a bunch of G-Diapers on Ebay. In theory, they seem like a fantastic idea, but in reality, they are a pain in the ass- all Green benefits aside. Now don't let this lead you to believe that I've given up on going cloth. Far from it. In fact, just this week I made the complete cross over to an all cloth diapering system for my Buddy Boy (I had been slowly working up to this point and incorporating them into our daily routine more and more, and using disposables less and less- now not at all). Although I'm nixing the G-Diapers, I just had to find a cloth diaper that worked for me. While pregnant, I did a ton of research and ordered several different brands and styles: from the old school Chinese pre-fold cloth diapers with covers (the kind our grandmothers probably used plus covers), to pocket diapers to All-in-ones to G-Diapers to the ones I've decided to go with...BumGenius 3.0 (they sound fancy, and yes, they are pretty fancy). Some are way more maintenance than others and some are way more expensive than others due to the need to buy up a size as the baby grows. The kind I'm using- BumGenius- is a one-size pocket diaper All-in-One that adjusts to fit as Jude grows to be a bigger and bigger Hambino. They are greeeeeat.

It's funny to me how, before Jude was born, Taylor got a lot of scrutiny and teasing from certain friends and family about their disbelief in my ability to handle cloth diapers...interesting how that scrutiny and teasing was never directed at me- all the smiling faces and nodding and going along with my vocalized plans to use them...all the while half of those people were secretly laughing at my seemingly naive plans to go that extra mile and do my part to save the planet from my share of tons of shitty and urine soaked diapers that will rot the Earth in landfills for the next 500 years....but whatever. It makes me laugh now. At first when I was pregnant, and Taylor shared with me how some people (no names) had ongoing bets to see how long we'd last with them (is this just me, or is that otherwise known as rooting for my failure???? How rude!), I got really pissed off about it. I think that might have just been mostly pregnancy hormones though, because in all honesty, I've learned that when it comes to this motherhood business, it's important not to pay attention to what other people think or feel about your choices and decisions as a parent. They are irrelevant. Besides, I've dealt with people raising their eyebrows at me like that a lot throughout my life, and that kind of "I'll bet she can't do it" or "What is she thinking?" mindset directed at me has always only made me more resilient and determined to do my thing the way I want to do it anyways.

SO- the cloth is working great for us. It has taken some experimenting and getting used to- and an upfront investment financially- but I like it. If you calculate how much money you spend on disposables throughout a child's diaper wearing years (infant to potty training time, so roughly 2-3 years), you actually save several thousands of dollars. I did the math. Taylor has taught me all about investing our money better- since I was once terrible TERRIBLE with budgeting money and he is the Man when it comes to financial know good and making the most of what we have. It seems like a lot at first- several hundreds of dollars and more work than just tossing a throw away out of sight out of mind- but splurging on our baby is something that, like most mothers, I'm happy to do.

I'm not going to lie- I used disposables while Jude was a newborn. Being a first time mom and adjusting to the sheer capacity of newness and work and lack of sleep etc. that goes along with it was not the time to be overwhelming myself with washing crappy diapers (and, I discovered, newborns poop like every time you change them and I just couldn't keep up...I tried!). Every time we would change out that Diaper Genie and would haul that heavy bag of dirty diapers to the trash I felt guilty and disgusted at the same time knowing where they were going. I personally feel better and relieved with my switch to all cloth (now that Jude's digestive system has slowed down to a manageable speed!).

It takes a little bit of extra effort and work, and it definitely is not for everyone, but if you have the time, I think it's a great way to give those corporate diaper companies the finger and say "You are not my only option and I want to do my part to reduce the carbon footprint your products are making on our poor, deteriorating planet."

You can check out the BumGenius 3.0 here:

BumGenius

Fun Uncle

Jude's Uncle Chris came up to visit today. It's funny to watch my brother with the baby. This is a guy who would jump multiple flights of stairs on roller blades, competed in black belt karate tournaments, snowboards and teaches rock climbing, but putting my baby in his arms has been like the most terrifying and awkward thing in the world to him. Now that Jude is a little bigger, and not just a little wobbly necked newborn potato (but a cute wobbly necked newborn potato), Chris seemed a little more at ease then he did when Jude was brand spankin' new. When I first helped get Jude into his arms this morning, Chris was like Frankenstein holding a baby and Jude looked at me like, "Seriously? You've got to fix this." They both looked really uncomfortable. We had to work on that.
Chris didn't want to hold him over the tile floor. It made him nervous, he said.
After a little while, though, once he had some time to feel it out, he seemed to ease up. Although he still held him like a football, I think they got the hang of it, but it wasn't long before Jude got fussy and was wanting to "play." Chris could relate, as he is also easily bored with sitting still doing nothing. So he took him on a stroll around the backyard and "chatted" while showing him stuff. They must have made a good uncle/nephew connection because when they came back inside, Chris was ready to play too.

Look out Jude.

I showed him how Jude has been working on learning to roll over and the progress he has made on his tummy with holding his head up. Chris decided that he wanted to do some gym time and exercises. My freakishly physically active brother (always has been) put his ass to work. Play hard- that's Chris's thing. He laid out a blanket on the floor and had Jude scootin' across it on his tummy by letting him push off his hands with his feet- up and down the living room. He had him on his back under his dangling OctoMan on the BabyEinstein play gym, helping him practice his "climbing" grip (Chris is convinced he will rock climb) on the hanging plastic links. He showed him how to box and had him practice swiping at OctoMan. He worked with him on his ninja skills by conditioning the kicks that made the dangling toys on the gym jingle around. He took him "off roading" by bouncing him around on his knees while sitting on the couch.

By the time Chris left to go to work at the climbing gym, Jude was passed out cold in his diaper- in his crib with no fuss or fighting the nap. It just tickles me to death to see my brother/best friend with my baby boy. This first real "hang out" visit, now that Jude is getting bigger and more fun to interact with, was a great indicator of what kind of relationship they will have. My brother is like the Energizer Bunny- I call him Man Boy. They are going to have so much fun and I have a feeling that every time Jude and Chris part ways, my boy will be passed out from the sheer exhaustion that results from play time with my brother. He has that affect on people and I just love him for it.

Iron Fist

Got my first taste of baby grabbing my hair today. WOW that felt good. I stayed up way too late farting around on the computer last night and paid for it this morning. It's a good thing Jude isn't really a morning baby. After he wakes up at 6 a.m. for his breakfast (which I don't think I will EVER get used to), he will happily join me for a nice post breakfast nap on the couch. This is my favorite time of the day because it's the one nap of the day when I don't feel guilty for not running around like a mad woman getting some work done while he sleeps (which never lasts long). Waking up to iron grip baby fist clenching a chunk of my hair was an interesting way to actually begin my morning. It wouldn't have hurt so badly if it had been a larger chunk of it, but he managed to wrap his fingers around only a thin enough strand to make yanking on it feel like an army of fire ants were marching down my scalp. How do babies instinctively know to zero in on the most tender part of a woman's head? I tried to untangle myself from it gently enough to keep it from hurting worse, but it still became an, "ow, oW, OW, OWWWWW!" situation. I'd been hoping he would reach that grabbing-for-things milestone and boy, am I glad he started with my hair. I feel as though I've been officially hazed into the next step of motherhood, whatever that might be. I'm guessing that it's the step that involves Duder experimenting more with his little paws.

"Marley and Me"

Oh my GOD. Why does this movie not come with some sort of disclaimer that warns you about the emotional repercussions that come with it?

We rented it thinking it was a comedy, but Jennifer Aniston's obvious new nose job aside, it was far from a comedy. A movie where the family dog gets put down at the end does not a comedy make in my book.

I mean, the movie itself for the most part was FUNNY- new puppy and dog shananigans are FUNNY...leg humping and dog running crazy destroying things is FUNNY- but the underlying theme and message mostly just messed with my head. For like three or four days now. Going on five. Possibly for forever. I've watched it 3 times now and I'm delaying returning it to Blockbuster.

The whole, young couple adopting a puppy as a trial run into parent, flash forward 2 year montage of life with dog as young married couple ( I love a good montage), young couple trying to have a baby, young couple has baby and dog who was once family baby becomes baby's buddy, family grows and dog as permanent lovable significant fixture and family member in household grows older until dog who was once puppy becomes senior dog...and then...that most awful gut wrenching inevitable sad ending to any pet story.

It had me in tears by the time it was over. My heart seriously broke. It reminded me of reading "Where the Red Fern Grows" and that book traumatized me as a kid. It really did, and I never even got to have a dog growing up. My parents weren't patient enough for dogs. I had fish and hamsters until I pestered them enough to get me a cat. And even then. Every hamster that died shook the very foundation of my childhood if that says anything.

When the credits to "Marley and Me" started rolling, Taylor pointed out the tear stains on the couch pillow where I was laying, and I noticed the tear stains on the shoulder of his t-shirt.

~tear~

We laughed at our blubbering selves. Then we both made a beeline for Gretchen, who was sprawled out on the floor by the couch. We proceeded to gush love and affection all over her, and she wasn't sure what she had done to get bombarded with the flood of attention, but she sure ate it up.

I had no idea that an Owen Wilson/Jennifer Aniston movie had the ability to make me reflect on my life with Taylor, our family- present and future- and our pets...namely Gretchen. The movie got to me on so many levels.

We let Gretchen on the bed last night for the first time since Jude was born after watching it. It made me realize that by the time Gretchen is 14 or 15 years old, we will be around 40. 40!

She was our trial run with parenthood- no dog will ever be that in our life again. That's so special. "Marley and Me" totally reminded me that even though I have a baby now, Gretchen is and will always be my little BFF Doggerson companion.

~sniff sniff~

SLEEP WINDOW: Animal Loves and Baby's Power of Positivity

I've learned not to waste too much precious baby nap/bedtime sleep time hammering away at the flighty negativity that sets up shop in my mind from time to time.

The good news is that those moments are coming fewer and further between these days. I can thank my little Hambino for not allowing me too much time to harp on bullshit anymore- yet another way that he has made my life a better and more interesting place to exist in.

As a woman who was once apprehensive and skeptical about baby having, I must admit, as a woman changed, I now think everyone should procreate at some point in their lives and experience being a parent. As creators, observers, caretakers, nurturers, life sources, meal tickets...

I once thought I knew a thing or two about being a caretaker and nurturer and "mommy" to my pets. I thought I knew a thing or two about what it means to love something small and all but helpless. I thought I knew a thing or two about what it means to be needed- I mean, really needed.

I know now that I knew NOTHING of the sort. At least not to the degree or severity of what I know now. Pets and baby humans are not even in the same ballpark. Or universe even. No shit right? Sometimes the obvious doesn't seem so obvious until it becomes blatantly obvious that you obviously didn't know shit about the obvious. Obviously.

Sure my pets need me- and I've always loved and spoiled my pets to no end. Talked about them and photographed them and discussed them with other pet fanatics like they were my children. Now that I have a baby and my beloved pets have been knocked down on the totum pole, I'm enlightened in a way that I wasn't expecting. I still love my animal loves- and they will always have a very very special place in my life and heart- but inevitably, they are now just that- my animals. I can't really look at them like my babies anymore. I feel like an asshole saying that, but I have to be honest.

Holding Niles in the cradle position now feels awkward- for both of us. It's strange, but we have a mutual understanding. He has his nest on the couch and comes around when the baby is asleep. He's warming up to Jude a little every day- he naps a little closer to us on the couch each week- but he doesn't hide his jealousy. Gretchen is still constantly underfoot and has accepted her new position as more of Nanny Dog than just merely Doggerson. She has to be up in the mix all the time still, but more observing and watching and trying to contribute with baby care. It's super cute and interesting to experience. I call Jude "her" baby and she seems to enjoy her new responsibility. German Shepards like to have jobs and duty and she loves that baby. D'Arcy for some reason has become extra lovey and present. Not sure what that's about, but it's a nice change from her usual sweetly withdrawn routine. She hangs out in the nursery and rolls around on the floor wanting love when we are in there and enjoys laying next to the baby floor gym while Jude is doing his tummy time.

My dog and cats are being good sports, but they are very appreciative of Jude's early evening bedtime, when they get a few hours of their old life back and they become more of a focus of my attention.

Anyways, concentrating on the positives nowadays. I'm enjoying the peace and a sort of rebirth of innocence that has been therapeutic like nothing I've ever known.

With babies you get to experience youth and life all over again, and everything catty that once dominated valuable thinking time in the past seems pointless and frivolous and stupid. There's not a whole lot that seems worthy of bitching about when the most angelic and priceless and fantastic little being flashes a huge, gummy smile at you- establishing that he/she is beginning to recognize and differentiate you from everyone else in the world as the one who can make it all better...and even if I can't always, I would die trying to.

I'm finding this tricky to deal with as a writer whose source of material always stemmed from cynicism, sarcasm and- dare I say it- negativity?

And now, as I teeter on the edge of launching into a segment about how irritating it is to try to find bras and bathing suits to house these new monster chicas (monster chicas for ME that is) I am trying to make peace with, Jude awakens to remind me of why I am sacrificing comfort in a smaller cup size and baby t-shirts, alcoholic beverage having without fucking with a breast pump all night for the sake of a few beers, and jogging or running upstairs without getting a black eye.