8 months old

In one day, my baby will be 8 months old. Eight months old. Can you believe it? Because I can't.

This is a bittersweet moment, as is every month that passes. My baby is another month older, another month closer to being a toddler, or a child, or a teenager, or a (gulp!) adult. But, at the same time it is so gosh darn cool too. I love watching him grow, I love watching him become who he is going to be. Because he has such a personality already, and from what I see he is going to be awesome (biased? Maybe, but he totally is).

In month 7 of Finn's life he has had a lot of fun, and a few bad times. He has gotten to be QUITE the expert at pulling himself up, and finding a way to get back down. At the beginning of the month it was more of a "plop" and now he slowly lets himself back into a sitting position, with a very sweet 'plie' type move. It is so adorable.

He also is an expert crawler, and he knows exactly what he wants. He sometimes crawls with one leg up and one leg down, and he can also walk along the furniture. He is quite the mover and shaker. It is seriously cool, and a little bit scary.

He has also become so much more vocal, he says "DA DA DA" all the time, and "Ba ba ba" and "La la la" and "ya ya" and "ha ha" and then YESTERDAY he said "Ma ma ma." I was terribly happy about it, because I feel like it is truly one of life's cruel jokes that babies say "dada" before "mama." I want to scream "YOU BIT MY NIPPLES" or "I DELIVERED YOU WITH NO DRUGS" sometimes when he does it.

He has gone to the orchard, played with his new friend's at Ms. Laura's and gotten his first cold. He also had croup for his first AND second time, and a double ear infection for the first time, and had "real" medicine for the first AND second time.

He claps now.
And SOMETIMES waves hi to people.

He knows how to turn pages when we read books.
He LOVES Mary Poppins and smiles at her when she sings.

He loves Mommy and he loves Daddy, but I am pretty sure that he loves Ella most of all. And I am consistently amazed by how wonderful Ella is with him, ever patient and sweet.

He has visited "the pub" several times, and Target (which he loves)--he also sat in the actual seat at Target for the first time.

He is STILL the happiest, sweetest, best baby that I have ever met. I wish he understood how happy he makes me, how wonderful he is and how much he is loved; he will one day.

Until then, it's been an amazing 8 months.

Coughs...

Yeah. I am losing it, seriously and completely. I am sitting here listening to Finn hardly be able to breathe while waiting to take him to the doctor again. All the while knowing that I have to go back to school with him afterwards. I have to take my sick child to school with me so that the Crier gets done on time.

Randy said today, "just kick them out" and while I understand the thought process...I signed up for this. One of the things we talked about during the interview was how much time I would have to spend there; one does not come without the other one.

I feel like a bad mom, I feel like an awful teacher, I feel like I am drowning at home, as a mother, teacher and wife.

Bad, bad day listening to the little angel's bad, bad cough.

Here's the kicker...

So...yesterday was a bad day. Randy was leaving for three days (yuck). Finn is still having issues because of his medicine (yuck). I hadn't slept well (YUCK). And I was running late (as usual).

So, I went to school. I taught two classes, I did so crabbily (it's a word...yes it is. Don't give me any sass.). After 2nd hour is the first time that I pump at school. It's the beginning of my plan, and it sucks...literally and figuratively. So I turn on my pump, and it doesn't work...at all, the stupid light doesn't even turn on. I start freaking out. Like seriously freaking out. My thought stream went something like this...

"ohmyeffinggod. whattheheckamisupposedtodo? I canNOT believe that this is happening, I have a meeting at 10, I can't even leave to go to the store."

I pick up and call Randy (mistake #1).

Me: My breast pump is completely dead.

Randy: Are the batteries dead?leave

Me: NO RANDY I DON'T CALL YOU when my batteries are dead. I am not an idiot.

Randy: Just go home and plug it in.

Me: I don't have time.

Randy: You don't have time to do anything. So it's a moot point. That's what I would do.

Me: I need to buy a new pump.

Randy: that's $200, that's stupid.

Me: I HATE YOU ()*)(*$)#*$)Q(*R_A)*WR)_EA*_A)*(R_)ES*$)#*$A How could you possibly not understand how my job works? I can't just leave? I am stuck here. Why are you so ever-loving dumb.

Randy: uhhhh...

Me: Click (that was me hanging up in case you didn't catch it.)

Still freaking out, crying, and getting more and more frustrated, I try again. Still doesn't work. But I have to go to this meeting, it's for a post-observation.

I go, I sit, I freak out.

I finish right at the end of my plan, so I have no time.

Study hall...at this point, my boobs hurt. I ALWAYS pump twice a day. ALWAYS.

I decide that I'll go to target during lunch (after 2-3 more phone calls/freak-outs with Randy because he doesn't understand me/why this is a problem/etc.). This means that I have to kick my over-achieving kids out of my room, because they always stay in my room during lunch, run to target, not eat, and get candy for the little beggers who (when I tell them why I am kicking them out of my room--to go to target) beg me to buy them candy. I seriously run through target, and if you've seen my fat-ass run lately, it is QUITE amusing. I buy the cheapest, most ridiculous looking breast pump ever, and candy (God FORBID I forget the candy), and RUN my butt back to school. I then get back into the school, and have to leave to go pump.

It takes me ten minutes (when I should be in class), to put the stupid thing together, my boobs STILL in pain, and I get it together, press the on button, the light goes on, I hear the weird suction-y sound (YES that's a word too. Shut it.), and I think YES, except it doesn't work. I can't FOR THE LIFE OF ME figure out how to get it to work.

I completely lose my shit. Like COMPLETELY lose it. Start crying, start freaking out, "what if my milk supply drops because of this?" "what if I leak all over the place while I'm teaching 6th hour" WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

After that 10-15 minute breakdown, I text Laura and beg her to hold finn off for one feeding.

I run out the door at 2:45, get to Laura's by 2:52, home by 3:00, feeding Finn by 3:01.

Afterwards, I try to plug in my pump, and here's the kicker.

It was set up wrong. The suction thing-y (I know, I know), was plugged into the power part. That was what was wrong the ENTIRE TIME.

The entire thing was a fabrication in my mind. I created all that drama in my head.

I went to bed thinking, "tomorrow has GOT to be better."

Before 7 am I had been peed on twice and pooped on once. Today was still better.

Unsolicited Advice...yeah.

So, I have about 485 things that I should be doing. Like, I should be grading papers, planning lessons, GRADING PAPERS, preparing for an observation today, etc. etc. etc.

BUT, I had to stop in and let you know that I think that my least favorite part of parenting is unsoliticited GD advice. Can I give everyone, all 6 of you that read this, a word of advice? Let people raise their children how they want to. Seriously.

Today, I came into school, and there was a substitute, a sub who was a teacher when I went here, a crazy, batty old lady. She asks me "Who is watching Finn?" and I start talking about Laura, and how much we like her and yadayadayada. She then launches into this tirade.

Her: "Just don't OVER-parent, some parents are crazy and they won't let their kids eat any sugar, or strawberries (in a mocking tone) 'what if they are allergic?' well if they are allergic you aren't going to know anyways. You just shouldn't OVER-mother your kids."

My head: Blank stare, processing, in head 'get the f&*( away from me lady'

Her: "...and I hope you're using throw-away diapers, the regular diapers are a double-wash you know? They are awful."

My head: Aghast stare....seriously what the f&*^& am I supposed to say to that? Huh? Am I supposed to regale this psycho with the 10 reason that I know off the top of my head why cloth diapering is a good choice (if it's something you want to do)? No. So I just stare at her.

Her: (clearly feeling awkward that I am not saying anything) How's Randy? Is he involved?

Me: Yes,I never thought he wouldn't be. Randy is a great dad.

Her: That's great, that's important

My head: No shit. Obviously that was something I thought about it our 11 years together, that Randy would be present in our children's lives. GET AWAY FROM ME.

Her: (once again feeling awkward because I am not responsive) okay well have a good day.

Me: You too
My head: You suck. I hate you for starting my morning like this. I hope you stub your toe, or get a giant paper-cut.

Yeah, happy morning to all of you.

Sick Angel

So...yes, Finn is still sick. It has been a BAD week. It all started last Friday. Finn (still) had a cold. We went to bed at 10:00, I woke up at 11:15 to projectile vomit coming at me. I literally was dripping in vomit (yes, Finn still sleeps in our bed...deal), I got up and woke Randy up while crying and shaking.

"Hold him while I change my shirt."

My poor baby angel kept vomiting and heaving for the next hour. He finally fell asleep in his Daddy's arms. Randy then fabricated a sleeping arrangement for Finn which included blankets, towels an his carseat. It looked...like this.

I called the doctor during all of this, and he said that we shouldn't feed him, and that there was really nothing they could do, and since he wasn't running a fever he was probably fine.

What you said? I called the doctor, and actually talked to him? YES! My doctor PICKED UP HIS CELL PHONE AND TALKED TO ME at 11:30 on a Friday night. I love him.

We waited. The next day, he had a bad cold, but no more vomiting.

On Sunday night, I got a terrible headache and assumed that I was catching what Finn had, we went to bed early and were mostly fine. Woke up on Monday, and Finn was still coughing. I decided to take the day off. While I was off, we actually had a good day. Around 10am I thought that we probably should have just gone to school/work, but it was a nice day.

All week long he had a runny nose, and this weird deep creepy cough, but didn't seem terribly sick. We kept taking his temperature, we kept watching for ear-grabbing, crying, etc. But there wasn't any.

I picked him up from Laura's on Thursday and she said that he woke up screaming from his nap. If you've ever met Finn you know that he is not a screamer, he is not a crier, he is not a whiner. He is seriously the perfect child. I am not exaggerating, not even a little bit. I know he's mine, and so I am biased, but I am not the only one who says it. He's just so darn sweet. So we knew that this was bad.


Also, last night another one of the teachers I work with posted on facebook that her little girl had croup, which is basically a nasty cough, so after looking up a ton of information, and finding out that this cough sounded like a "seal" bark, we decided that this is probably what it was.

I called the doctor on the way home and made an appointment for today. So Randy took off this morning, and I took off this afternoon (AGAIN!). I got a video of the cough. I saw a different doctor than I normally do, so I wasn't sure.

She came in (by the way my giant baby weighs 19 lbs 9 ounces) and I told her about the symptoms, and I told her about the cough and how I thought it was croup (and how another kid in his daycare had it).

And she SCOFFS at me. She seriously looked at me like, "uhh, NO that's NOT it." So I get irritated, because it all goes back to when I always have to lie to my own doctor to get antibiotics for sinus infections EVERY time I go. Whatever. I got pissed, and I pulled out "THE VIDEO" and she looks at it and hears the cough, and then determines that "He has a mild case of croup." Yeah bitch, I know.

Anyways, he also has a DOUBLE ear infection. My poor baby angel. So we went at got him medicine, and he LOVED the medicine (thank God), and the medicine also brought me back to my childhood (Love that smell).

He started on medicine at 2:00pm, and he should be back to his sweet self by early tomorrow, though he is already such an angel child I can't imagine him getting any sweeter.

Did I mention that...

1. This is all my fault.
2. Slimy daycare kids.

I am so ridiculous.

Insanity

My day has been the epitome of insanity.

Finn and I went to sleep last night around 10, we woke up at 11:15 to lots and lots of puke. Then an hour of dry heaving, with more puke mixed into it. It was not fun.

I had to call the doctor at 11:30 at night, and I loved him even more for answering, and talking to me like a sane person, talking me down from a crazy, crying frenzy. Instructions: keep him sitting up, don't feed him until morning, keep checking him for fever.

Then he woke up at 3:00, and I wasn't supposed to feed him, so it was very difficult to get him back to sleep. He woke up again at 7:00am.

The day was seriously insane. Randy left for a bachelor party at 9:00am. Finn took a three hour nap, I started cleaning, and co-op cooking, then I couldn't stop. I was like a tornado. I cleaned (really cleaned) the house for the first REAL time since school started. I did every piece of laundry in this house. I made 5 pans of baked macaroni and cheese for the co-op. In between all of this, I took care of baby Finn, who was miserable all day.

I am exhausted right now. Seriously. I am also terribly lonely. I missed my sister quite a lot today, I wished (several times) that I had someone else to call and just bitch to. No one can listen to me bitch like Ashley can.

I did get to skype with her today, which was cool. She already says her "a's" different; it was weird. She better not leave me.

I feel like this post is pretty pointless, but I am going to publish it anyways, because maybe someone else feels a little bit pointless, and since I am lonely, I want you to know that you're not alone.

G'night.

The beginning of the cloth diaper journey.

Last Friday, against strict instructions from my loving husband, Ashley and I made our way to the store "Cutie Poops and Bottoms" in Orland Park, IL. Cloth diapering is something that I have been going back and forth about for several months. I have always said I wanted to cloth diaper our next child, but Randy was so against it, I didn't want to add another thing to our plate at the moment.

After doing some MORE research on the topic, I decided that cloth diapering wasn't something that I was willing to wait on, and after sharing some of this information with Randy; he eventually hopped on board the "I am so crunchy I can barely stand it" train. (choo-choo!)

On the day we went to the store, Ashley talked to her friend on the phone, they both went on and on about how crazy I was and said things like "why would you want to cloth diaper your kid?" After we left the store Ashley said,"I am sold" and completely understood.

We got a "trial pack" which basically means that you are getting 15-20 different kinds of diapers and seeing which one/ones work best for you/your baby.

Finn is pretty awesome, so he could care less about any of this. The first day I tried them, he leaked through a bit, but other than that they worked fine. I have been slowly introducing more and more cloth diapers throughout the past week. Through all of these trials, I have decided on two that I like the most-GroVia (an All-in-one cloth diaper), and the Flip diaper (which has inserts). Both of these have worked very well on Finn, we will be switching within the next week or so. I am VERY excited, and a little bit nervous about it.

We (proudly) purchased our last box of diapers and dropped them off at daycare for Finn, I spoke with Miss Laura (the woman who watches him) and she was completely on-board with the cloth diapers (I love her).

I am so totally, completely open to suggestions for this :)

Excited to be going green, and hopefully helping my munchkin at the same time!

A little bit darker...

Yesterday we brought Ashley to the airport. Yesterday my sister left for 11 months. My baby sister. The sister that we brought home in a stocking. The sister who made mud pies. The sister who met Randy for the first time at the park by our house. The sister who cried her eyes out when I left for college, and who I repaid by crying my eyes out when she left for college. She got on a plane, and flew to Ireland.

The day was extremely beautiful, and the best part was that I got to see my entire family. We spent the day laying in the grass on my parents front lawn, watching babies play and learn. It was great.

I thought I was doing pretty well, until Ashley said goodbye to Finn. It just got so real. I watched as she said goodbye to her dogs Emma and Phia, to the cat, Kramer. I watched her say goodbye to Renee, Grant, and a sobbing Ava. I watched her say goodbye to Ryan, Sarah and Addy (well, she tried to say goodbye to Addy). All of that was painful enough. Then, I watched her say goodbye to my Ella, and to Finn, and to Randy, who whispered "call us first if you get arrested" as he hugged her goodbye. I teared up several times, but it still wasn't real.

I always knew I'd go with her to the airport, it was a given. So did everyone else. I think Randy would have liked to go too, but we both knew that I would be a raving lunatic, so we didn't want Finn to see me like that. As I said goodbye to Randy and Finn, Randy said to me--"you need to calm down until you get to the airport. Don't ruin the last moments."

I took his advice, we talked and laughed on the way to the airport. We got there, and went to the International terminal. All I kept thinking was that THIS IS REAL, this is REALLY happening.

As we waited in line to get her bags checked, the sun streamed in through all the windows. At one point, the clouds snuck in front of the sun and everything went a little bit darker. I couldn't help but think about that's how the next 11 months were going to feel--a little bit darker. Ashley isn't just my sister, she is my best friend. Life will go on, it'll just be a little bit darker without her.

We checked her bags, and walked her to the gates. I lost it, really we all lost it. I sobbed--out loud, without worrying about what other people thought about me. So did Ashley. We hugged and we said goodbye. I wanted her to turn around, but she kept going, she kept right on walking through security, she kept going until we couldn't see her anymore, but God knows we tried. All I kep thinking was "I am not going to touch my sister for 11 months" I won't be able to hug her, or push her, or "slug bug" her.

There are a lot of traits I hope that Finn gets from me; my tenacity, my smart mouth (I like a little bit of sass), my openness, and my 'I don't give a damn' attitude. There are also a lot of things that I hope that Finn gets from his Daddy; his willingness to compromise, his ability to love fully with his whole heart and the ability to fix everything and anything. But I hope he gets his bravery from his Aunt Ashley. While I wish that he would stay with me forever (much like I wish Ashley was here with me now), I hope he is able to have some adventures like his Aunt too.