Me & Da Boyz

So I'm a huge advocate of the book "Babywise" which is highly controversial. It requires a routine for your newborn as well as allowing them to "cry it out". That's all I have to say about that right now. I'll save it for another post. But I figured if I didn't write about it in this post I wouldn't remember that I was going to do a post about it. I mean I almost put my hairspray in the refrigerator the other day...

I have the 2 cutest boys ever! Dawson's shirt says Big Brother and Evan's shirt says Little Brother. You know. Because they are brothers. And Dawson is older than Evan.

I am including this picture even though I'm not in it because of the sheer difference in size between Dawson and Evan.

I don't have much left

to say this time. I'm pretty sure it's because I'm at the library and I look like a slob and I'm trying to download music from itunes and also check Facebook and also rock Evan from time to time in his car seat to buy me some more time while he's fussy. I'm a good mom like that.

A Newborn Survey

It’s been six years since I had a newborn. Although I’m much more relaxed this time around, there are things I do not remember. It’s all a sleepless blur. Below is a series of questions I have compiled in order to get your input on life with a newborn. Let’s begin:

1. Surely all parents go through a time of frustration when their newborn has his fussiest existence at 2:00 a.m. and refuses to fall asleep. Does his happen? Is it normal? Because I cried just a bit last night when I couldn’t figure out what the heck was causing Evan to be fussy. Although I did eat a whole bag of chocolate covered peanuts…

2. All mother’s have a moment when they want to cut off their boobs and take a hammer to the breastpump. Correct?

3. When do you give up on the stinking swaddle? Evan sleeps better when he’s in it but he can break free from it like an innocent man on death row and he grunts til he’s free.

4. Pacifier. Yes or No?

5. A shower is a masterpiece. A work of art. Or am I the only one who has to shower in order to function? Well. A shower with a cup of coffee. At the same time.

6. Fact or Fiction: Babies sleep longer when formula fed.

7. Adult interaction is taken for granted, right? I mean, if a telemarketer called me right now I would probably chit chat for a good hour. I wouldn't buy their product but I'd be happy to tell them all about the number of diapers I've changed and how I haven't done my hair and need a new hair color and talk about how to lose weight. Really. Someone should call me. Actually. I don't like talking on the phone. So. Now what.
Joy

Evan & Dawson

One of the first questions we get asked since having Evan is “how is Dawson doing as a big brother?” I’m not going to answer that question. Just kidding.
Dawson is the most amazing and loving big brother we could have ever been blessed with. He constantly asks to hold Evan. He gives him kisses and wants to lay by him. He’s not fond of how loud Evan cries though. Tonight he made the comment that he doesn’t like it when Evan cries because “he can’t hear himself think”. Pretty mighty statement for a 6 year old. Dawson is always willing to help out. He comforts Evan and grabs his pacifier because he knows it will make Evan happy. Now if I could just get Dawson to nurse Evan…

This post is really told in the pictures so I’ll end this one with the comment Dawson made last night. He didn’t know I could hear him, so it made me cry because it was the sweetest thing ever. Dawson was lying beside Evan who was in the middle of us. I was reading to them. While I was getting out a new book to read, Dawson leaned over and whispered in Evan’s ear: “Always remember that I’m your brother.”

Evan.Robert.Wilkins

9.26.2012
3:13 p.m.
5lbs 12oz 17.34 in

Of course I’m going to blog about the birthday of the newest addition to the Wilkins family. And since I can’t think of a proper segue into it, here it is.
On Sunday morning I woke up and thought I had peed my pants. So rather than tell that to Jason and let him tell everyone including the youth at church, I kept it a secret. Just between me and Evan who apparently was pressing on my bladder so hard I wet the bed. But no! Come to find out, my water broke. I found this out because I called the hospital to let them know I might be coming in, not because I peed the bed but because I thought my water broke or sprung a leak. While on the phone with the nurse though, I told her I had just gotten up and I stank and asked if I was allowed to shower before coming in. What I didn’t want to tell her was that I wanted to shower and do my hair. I was not going to have a nappy head when that newborn mommy baby shot was headed in my direction, you know? She said yes go ahead and shower and I figured it was because she was the nurse on call and didn’t want to smell me when I came in. So I showered and curled my hair and Jason took me to the hospital because he’s a good husband.

I wasn’t in any pain, so I was shocked to learn I was having contractions that were 4 minutes apart. The nurse was shocked as well and the GUY doctor who was on call that was not my doctor told her to get me started on Pitocin because the test came back positive that my water had indeed broke. But that word broke doesn’t sound right being used that way in that sentence. I told the nurse that Pitocin was not necessary because I did not mind that I was not in pain. She didn’t listen to me, she listened to the doctor. I wish I had a badge, I would have flashed a badge and told her hold the Pitocin! By now only a couple of hours had gone by and the nurse seemed to think Evan would come by early Monday morning. Bleh!

I got moved to the delivery room where she started the Pitocin and soon my contractions were about 2 minutes apart but I still didn’t know I was having them, which I still didn’t mind. The nurse told the doctor said I could have an epidural any time I wanted so I decided I liked him. Even if he was a guy. I was only 2cm dilated so I was annoyed but happy to be pain free. Then the nurse came to check on me because she said she saw on her monitor that something was happening and she thought the baby had moved down quite a bit. Then I started feeling mild discomfort and told her so and decided to go ahead and get that epidural because I didn’t want the anesthesiologist out to lunch if pain were to hit. She told me she would go get him and then came back and said she got hijacked by some lady who claimed to be a OBGYN that said to tell me to hold off if I could because I was only 2cm and blah blah and I said okay I’ll try but I’m not happy about it. The next time she came to the room I said I wanted the epidural so she said she’d go get him. I was still only in mild discomfort but I was panicked that at any moment I would have pain and wouldn’t like it. She came back and said the epidural man was on his way. I said he must be walking and not jogging like I’d expect. He came in, gave me the epidural and instantly I was itchy all over. The mild pain had subsided only a tad though and I thought perhaps one minute was not enough time to expect it to kick in. About 20 minutes later the doctor came in and said I actually came to check on someone else, but I saw her monitor and something is going on, I think we should check her. The next thing I know the doctor said the baby is coming and is scrambling for the chair and to get the delivery table I’m on set up and I’m in severe pain! I asked where the stinking epidural was because I didn’t need it in my brain! I needed it where the baby was headed out! Then I had to push and he said no so I didn’t but Evan was coming without my help and I pushed there he was. Like seriously, 2 pushes. 2 stinking painful pushes. Then I felt another pain to which I said out loud “What are you doing? I disapprove”! And the doctor said, I’m very sorry but I have to deliver the placenta. And I said oh, that will be acceptable.

So I had a 2nd degree tear and an episiotomy. I didn’t approve of those either but I felt bad for yelling at the doctor so I didn’t say anything. Although I did ask if since the good doc was making about $25,000 off the 5 minutes of my pushing time... would he go ahead and do a bit of a nip and tuck. No I didn't really ask him that. BUT, my little Evan Robert was born and I’ve been smitten ever since.
Now for pictures:
This is of course before the Pitocin pain kicked in and the anti-epidural medicine was not needed and I thought I had good hair.

I did it! Yay me.

Daddy did a good job too. Talking me through the panicked state I was in while feeling pain. -Speaking of which, this is a shout out to my sister Bobbie who prayed that I'd give birth like the Hebrew women of the Bible. I think they would have been jealous.

First bath. Hmm. He looks how I felt while I was in labor.

A shout out to my amazing husband and wonderful first born. Jason has been Mr. Mom. He's awesome. More about Dawson and Evan in my next post. But he's awesome too.

...P.S. At least one of us got a nap.

The Birthday Boy and His Morphibian

2/18/2012
Dawson Gregory Wilkins turned 6 years old!
Dawson begged to have a sleepover for his birthday this year. As a 38 week pregnant woman, I do not highly recommend that strategy. I will moderately recommend it with warnings. See me for individual details.
Saturday morning, we picked up Dawson's Tron cake from WalMart. Jason appeared a bit shocked at the size of the cake, however, he did want the cheapest cake so I was only mildly shocked that the cake could only serve 2 ½. It served its purpose.

We took Dawson and his buddy Johnathan bowling that afternoon. I’ll bet all of you are wondering if I bowled. I slid down the alley on my belly. NO. I did not bowl. But I did eat a large bowl of French fries and drank a pepsi. It was the best way to honor Dawson on his special day.

Dawson was only allowed to invite 2 boys for the sleepover. Johnathan and Bradley were his choices.

(I absolutely do not like this picture of me. I look as though I started off the party tired. You'd think after a large bowl of french fries and a pepsi my hair would have looked better.)

Then we ate pizza

and let him open his gifts.

After the gifts we had cake then Jason and I racked our brains trying to figure out what to do with the boys. We did much better figuring out what NOT to do.

1. No jumping on the bunk beds
2. No jumping from the bunk beds to the floor
3. No throwing toys ANYTHING over the balcony railing
4. No jumping on the furniture
5. No playing football in the house. No playing any games involving physical contact in the house.
6. No jumping off the stairs from the very top step.
I know! Let’s watch a movie! They actually played a court sanctioned game first, then they had a little dancing fun and then watched a movie. Then we sent them upstairs to Dawson’s room where Jason made them a tent.

and got them ready to wind down for the night. They actually slept, believe it or not.
They were up the very next morning at 6:30 a.m. on the dot. I made them breakfast and then nearly did not manage to stay sane until their parents came.
Now the part about the Morphibian so that I can end this 5 page novel of a post. Dawson’s aunt Nessa got Dawson a Morhphibian for his birthday. He loves the thing. It’s a remote control whatever that actually drives in water! Dawson drove the thing (remotely of course) all over the house and then I finally let him take a bath with it. I figured as long as he didn’t drive it over his wiener, I was not an unfit mother. I didn’t get any pictures of this but I drew one for you, so that you could have a visual. Only I didn’t draw Dawson in the bathtub, just the Morphibian.
You know, I need to keep this blog rated G. The other main reason to tell you about the Morphibian is because I read the user manual and I found typos. So I’m including those for your personal entertainment.



The end.

Showering a Baby

I'm tired of maternity clothes. Nearly all of my pants are hand me downs, and I thought I had my pants on backward yesterday because I couldn't find the tag. Then I discovered there was a pocket on the front of the pants which was in the front on me. That was good news.

Okay enough of that.

We had the privelage of receiving not one, but two baby showers recently. One was thrown for me by my work, and the other was thrown by my friend Kelsey with the help of my mom-in-law and sis-in-law.

I actually don't like showers. For me. People stare at you. There are awkward pauses. I have no solutions to these problems other than to be medicated, which I don't condone.

Here are some pictures from my office shower:

They gave me this awesome gift basket packed full of stuff for my gift!

The lady who was in charge of my shower made these awesome cream filled cupcakes AND chocolate covered strawberries. Yum.

The following picture I am posting for one reason only. To show you how I really do feel about showers. I'm not sure what the woman taking pictures with my camera was thinking when she took this shot, but I'll be she was wondering "I wonder if she doesn't like awkward pauses?"

And now for the pictures of the baby shower at church. Where I was also unmedicated.

What are pictures of a shower worth, without a food table? Glorious cheese!

Just think. If it's a girl we'll have to do this all over again.

Time for presents:

Once again, it's the staring and pauses. Secretly, I'm not as excited as I look.

I think if I adjust my glasses, I won't be able to see people staring at me.

Really though, it was a great shower. And I'm grateful for all the time that was put into it, and all of the gifts people blessed us with.

Room For A Baby

Before we just jump right in to the pictures of the
baby's room. I have to take this public forum to complain on behalf of pregnant
women everywhere. Okay. It might just be me. I’m in my last several weeks and I’m
irritable. That being said, here are a few helpful tips to those of you out
there who might think it’s appropriate to say any of the following quotes to an
irritable pregnant woman in her last several weeks when she’s irritable. It’s not.

“Are you still around?”

“Haven’t you had that baby yet?”
“You look like you’re going to pop”
“That’s going to be a big baby”.
“How are you feeling?” *(This one is submitted with an editor’s note)

*Editor’s Note: I realize that last quote seems
harmless. HOWEVER, when it is said by the same people every time they see, over
and over and over… it makes one irritable. And also makes me want to buy a t-shirt that says “I’m fine” or better yet “Don’t Talk To Me”.

On to pictures of the baby's room...

We saved the crib set from when Dawson was born. So we had to go buy paint that matched this crib set. A shout out to my awesome handy-man husband who cut, stained and put up the chair rail all by himself!

I realize that in some of the pictures the colors are a bit distorted. The bottom portion of the wall paint is actually a brown color called "rabbit poop". Not really. I just can't remember the technical name. Because of the lighting, it looks green. Don't be fooled! If you are, I'll call you a sucka fool. Anyway, the room is done in brown/tan and cream. The top half of the wall is done in "cotton seed".

Any questions?

I'm Back.

First, I'd like to say that I'm super annoyed that I can't remember how to center my header picture.

Soon to come:

Baby's room pictures

Pictures from our baby showers

Pictures of my belly button.

That last one is not real.