Revenge of the Teeth

Apparently now that vacation is over, the time is ripe for teething. Those bumps that plagued us for so many months then vanished without a trace one day about a month ago have returned. Last night Patrick woke up about two hours after we put him to bed exhausted. Not only is it unusual for him to give up any precious sleep at night, but we knew something was wrong when he wouldn't stop that horrendous screaming. Holding him close, rocking him, and singing to him did nothing to soothe that shrill cry. He quieted down a little when he saw Matt, but it didn't last long. In desperation, we turned to our good friend Tylenol.
As soon as he got the Tylenol down, the screaming returned. We'd already felt the bumps on his gums, but we were wondering just how bad it was for him to scream that much and that loudly--especially when he should have been sleeping. Sure enough, in the right light, we could see the imprint of the top of a tooth in the middle of his bottom gums. There's another sharp point in his top gums, but those teeth don't look ready to break the skin yet. Without a doubt, this pain from an imminent tooth is what was keeping him from sleeping last night. I hope so much that this time the tooth actually decides to make an appearance, for his sake and ours.
I checked in my trusty What to Expect in the First Year book and re-read the teething section, and that only convinced me even more that that's the situation. He has almost every one of those symptoms (the drool has made huge puddles on his sheet during the nights and naptimes for the past day or so), and it is the right time (sometime in the 7th month on average) and the right tooth (bottom middle). If that tooth does show up in the next couple of days, I will be convinced that Patrick is right on track for a normal baby in yet another way. I never thought I'd be so proud to have a completely average baby!
By the way, the pictures are from another photo shoot yesterday. I've missed taking them regularly like I did before vacation and felt it was high time I got a few more. Patrick must have too because he cooperated remarkably well, and I ended up with many great pictures. These three were my favorites. I really like the one where he's standing. He was supported some by the chair, but I didn't even feel the need to keep one hand nearby in case he lost his balance. He was able to stay that stable the whole time.

Feet Obsession

I suppose it's better than a shoe obsession (we'll save that for our first girl), but Patrick has started being obsessive about his feet. Almost any time he's on his back, he's pulling those feet up and grabbing at them. I suspected this was bound to happen eventually, the day he discovered those things at the end of his legs made good toys. As long as it keeps him entertained, I'm all for it. Those are the cheapest toys yet, and he's strengthening his back and leg muscles at the same time. I think with a little more practice, he will have stretched those muscles out enough to pull the feet all the way to his face. I'm pretty sure that's his final goal: to get the feet to his mouth. I think they look as appetizing to suck on as his fingers, or ours.

Both Patrick and I are spending another day catching up, sleeping until almost noon with just one feeding around 8:15 earlier in the morning. I'm finally starting to feel almost rested. That's a good feeling after being so exhausted for so long. Today Matt had to go back to work for the first time in over two weeks, so we're all getting used to the old routine. I think Patrick's actually getting bored knowing what to expect with the routine. I feel bad for Matt, though. While we were gone, they reorganized much of his company, especially in the department where he works. He has to get used to a new line of command above him. He also had to go to a meeting first thing this morning about the status of the project he's working on. The last meeting was the day before we left. How could he even know the status if he's been gone the whole time? Sometimes I'm glad to be out of the workplace. It's much easier to return to my job than a "real" one, when all sorts of changes have taken place while we were gone. See, one more reason to love my job!

Vacation Pictures--Fourth Installment

I think this may be the last of the vacation pics. These are the ones we got from Gigi from our visit there.

Patrick dozing on his great-grandmother (Grammy)

Patrick hanging out with his great-grandpa--These two became good buds.

Patrick chilling in his new inflatable tub, his "big boy" tub

Some of the pictures off Gigi's camera were from our visit with them at Christmas. I really like this picture, so I thought I would share it, even though it is outdated. You can see how much he's grown in the past five months. In some of the other pictures, you can see the cable for his apnea monitor. I'd forgotten he still had it then.

Starting to Catch Up

We are all exhausted today. I think it's the let-down from the vacation. I slept in until about 11:00 and still wished I could have gone back to sleep. Matt got up earlier to do the lawn, but the day has turned out dreary and rainy on and off all day, so he'll have to postpone yardwork plans until another day. At least he got a short nap this afternoon. Patrick had unusual sleeping patterns last night, too. He woke up just before midnight, so I fed him. He woke up again at 6:15, much earlier than normal. I fed him again, and he went right back to sleep. Fortunately, then he slept until 11:00 when he woke me up. He easily went down for an afternoon nap earlier than usual, and only an hour after waking up is back down for another nap.

I'm hoping it's a combination of let-down from the trip and familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings that are upsetting Patrick. He seems happy to be home, and has woken up most of the time content and chattering, not crying. But the happiness doesn't last very long, and he soon turns to inconsolable crying. He hasn't had crying spells like these in a long time, where there wasn't a pretty obvious reason why he was upset. We're wondering if he is getting bored with just me and Matt and wants Nana or Gigi or any of the many people he had at his beck and call on vacation. We also noticed last night and this morning that his gums are starting to erupt into another mountain range, so he could possibly be suffering from teething pain again. (Maybe this time, it will actually end in teeth!) If that's the case, it is bad timing to start teething just as he returns home and to his normal routine. Just as one thing settles down, something else starts, keeping him upset. If you can't tell, it's upsetting me too. I hate trying so hard to console my screaming baby and knowing nothing I can do will help.

Bittersweet Endings

It's finally happened: vacation is over. I am now sitting at home in MY chair, watching MY tv, and blogging on MY laptop. I think we're all relieved to be home, even Patrick, back in familiar surroundings and in a familiar routine. At the same time, it's sad to see the vacation end. It wasn't the most exciting vacation ever, but it was a sweet first family vacation. We loved seeing all the family and friends, even in in familiar places, and we loved having people around to socialize with and help with taking care of Patrick. Both Matt and I got away from our jobs for a while, even if I didn't escape mine entirely for more than those two nights. Now that we're back home, I'm glad of it. I hated leaving Dallas earlier today, but as I expected, it's nice to be home.

I experienced another bittersweet ending today too, in a much different way. I was born on a Tuesday, and that following Sunday I was in church for the first time. The minister who preached the first sermon I ever heard is still friends with my parents. He and his wife were good friends of my parents until I was in elementary school when they moved to the Dallas area, taking their daughter, my best friend at the time, with them. Fast forward several years later and my parents coincidentally reunite with this family when they also move to Dallas. My mom ended up getting a job with the minister's wife, and the families rekindled the old friendship. They are now best friends. The minister stayed at the church where he moved so many years ago, and my parents joined that church. Today at that church, I saw my father fighting tears, one of the very few times I've seen him cry, as the minister announced that he had just preached his last sermon. It was time for him to move on to other things, primarily in the counseling department, and he gave up preaching after a long and happy career.

I tend to notice when things come full circle (for example, I ended up marrying a man with the same last name as my first real boyfriend), and I found it fitting that this man preached the first sermon I ever heard and today I heard the last sermon he will ever give. It is without a doubt bittersweet. He leaves behind a wonderful, fruitful career, but enters into many new opportunities where he may change just as many lives, just in different ways. As this family is in transition, please keep them in your prayers. I pray that they find a new niche where they can minister to new groups of people and that my parents will find it easy to stay close friends with them, loving and supporting them through this difficult time.

Vacation Pictures--Third Installment

Here are a few more pictures. The first is the last one from Big Spring that we took (we still have a few off Gigi's camera that I haven't gotten to yet), and the rest are from Dallas.

Patrick riding Papa's motorcycle (Don't worry; he didn't actually go anywhere on it.)

a shot of our room at the b&b in Denton
a gorgeous Dallas sunset taken on our walk yesterday evening
Patrick and his daddy on our walk last night

Couch Potato

I'm afraid I'm turning into a couch potato, but I've always sworn I wouldn't let my son become one. Then today, I'm suddenly not so sure. At dinner at Joe's Crab Shack with the whole family, Patrick started getting fussy after he finished his food. We passed him around the table until he ended up in Nana's lap where he intently watched each bite she took. He would grab her hand and try to bring her food to his mouth. Finally Matt and I decided that was enough interest shown in "real food" to let him try his first real solid. So Nana fed him a French fry. He mostly sucked on it but did get some small bits of it in his mouth. He wasn't sure what to do with it then, so most of it ended up in the napkin. Still, he seemed to enjoy it. I'm a little disappointed that his first finger food turned out to be junk food, but it made sense at the time. I guess from here on out, we need to encourage more healthy finger food choices and save the fries for special occasions.

Then when we got home, he was super upset. I tried putting him to bed, but we all couldn't stand the screaming that long. Uncle Dave and Aunt Jen got him out of his crib and tried comforting him. After about ten minutes, I thought maybe he wanted to eat again to relax enough to sleep, so I went to rescue his aunt and uncle. As they got up to hand him off, he turned toward the tv. Immediately he was captivated. The screaming stopped suddenly and he stared at that tv, perfectly content. Eventually I did feed him and he went to bed peacefully, but it still stuns me just how much the tv calmed him. He must be a real couch potato when he loves tv that much and craves fries.

On another note, I had a fun late-night feeding with him last night. Just as I was about to turn off my light and go to sleep, much later than I was hoping, Patrick woke up crying. It had been a long time since he'd eaten, and I sort of expected him to want to eat one more time before crashing for the night. When he didn't eat before midnight, I thought I would be in the clear until morning. At least he decided to eat before I went to bed. When he finished eating, he was in a great mood, almost giddy even. I put him back in his bed, expecting him to go back to sleep easily. Instead, he wanted to socialize. As I went through the typical good-night routine, he laughed. "I love you Patrick." Belly laugh. "Sleep well." Another belly laugh. I kissed him good night. Yet another belly laugh. It was hilarious, so I dragged it out as long as possible. It was such a loud laugh that I was somewhat concerned he would wake everyone in the house. I didn't think anybody would mind being awakened by that. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I was the only one who heard it. It was a fun and special moment with him. It's so much easier to put him to bed when he's in a good mood, even if it's difficult to leave him. I just want to savor those happy, giggly moments that don't seem to happen frequently enough or last long enough, no matter how often they happen or how long they last.

Yawn

I love quiet, lazy days, especially on vacation. I didn't like that we had to get up early to check out of the bed and breakfast this morning--we had a great time and I didn't want to leave--but at least the rest of the day has been pretty slow so far. We had a slow, late lunch then sat chatting while Patrick napped. We took a quick trip to Target when he woke up earlier than expected because he was in a great mood and my mom had some gift cards she wanted to spend there. Patrick picked out some toys he wanted Nana to buy for him (spoiled kid!), then proceeded to fuss all the way home. Apparently he was hungry and tired again already. Now he's napping again. Matt and Mom went to get ice cream while I sit here enjoying the quiet house. I think I may just follow Patrick's example and doze off until my ice cream gets here...umm, I mean until my mom and husband return.

Tonight will get a little busy again. In another hour or so my brother will arrive and shortly after that my dad gets back from his business trip. Sometime tomorrow my sister-in-law will fly back from her conference (she was supposed to get back today but had problems making the flight). Patrick hasn't had much one-on-one time with any of his aunts and uncles, so I'm looking forward to spending the weekend with Dave and Jen. It will be busy of course, but I think Patrick is getting used to going places and doing things. I hope he doesn't expect us to keep up this pace when we get home! I'll need a few weeks to recover from vacation. Isn't that ironic how that happens? The point of a vacation is to relax, yet somehow we need time after one to recover and relax before getting back to the normal routine.

Anyway, sorry for the lack of deep thoughts today. My thinker is too tired to do much work. I'm hoping to do another picture post tonight or tomorrow. We have just a few left on our memory card from Big Spring and then some from the hotel room last night. Hopefully by tomorrow I will also have some of Patrick in Dallas with family. Those are probably the best ones anyway, the ones with family.

Another Getaway

Today we woke up early to get to my mom's school for their clean-up day so she could show off Patrick to all her friends. Many of them follow the blog or at least see the new pictures when my mom sends them out, so they were interested to meet the famed Patrick in person. He was charming around all those women, especially elementary school teachers who have a soft spot for kids.

This afternoon, Matt and I took off for another night away. It's only fair that if Papa and Gigi got a chance to watch Patrick overnight that Nana should too. Matt and I didn't exactly hesitate when she offered. (My dad would help baby-sit, but he's on a business trip until tomorrow and this was our best chance to get away.) We are staying at the Wildwood Inn, a bed and breakfast in Denton, TX. It is the same place where we spent our short honeymoon last year. We'd been planning to do this for quite some time but hadn't gotten around to reserving a room until yesterday afternoon. We got quite lucky that they weren't booked. We couldn't get the same room as last year but found a nice substitute instead. We're very happy with it.

For dinner we ate at the same restaurant as our first meal as a married couple: Applebee's. It doesn't sound particularly special, but we hadn't considered the the local college (University of North Texas) had had graduation the same day and the town would be swamped with parents wanting to take their graduates out to dinner. Applebee's was the only place we'd be able to get food without a ridiculously long wait. Matt and I are pretty sure that we even had the same waitress tonight as last year. It brought back so many happy memories.

After dinner, we headed to the local theater to watch The DaVinci Code.
***Major Spoilers Ahead!***
I read the book a few weeks ago and found it interesting, even though I didn't exactly buy into the whole conspiracy theory idea. The movie followed the book fairly well until the end. It bugs me to the point of distraction when movies stray too far from the books, so I was glad I could focus as well as I did on the end of the movie. There was one difference that I appreciated: Tom Hanks's character tells Sophie, the "last descendant of Christ," that Christ could be divine and still start a family. It was also up to Sophie to decide whether she should reveal her lineage and that she should consider what would encourage the faith of Christians. I know the whole idea is controversial and I don't buy it at all, but I still wonder what exactly about it enrages so many Christians.

A major focal point of the movie is that in order to prove Sophie is a descendant of Christ is to have DNA evidence from Mary Magdalene, Christ's supposed wife, to compare to the descendants. Matt pointed out the hugest flaw in that logic. If they compare that DNA, they will only have proved that Sophie is related to Mary Magdalene, not Christ. They'd need his DNA for that proof, and we all know that's impossible. According to tradition, Mary Magdalene had quite a history, and she could have produced many offspring that were not conceived by Christ. So we either have to take on faith that Christ was married to Mary Magdalene and DNA evidence proving she has descendants also proves He does, or we have to believe tradition that she slept around and proof of her descendants proves nothing, or we can believe the Bible's version of the story, which doesn't verify either of the other two theories. I think I know which one I'm going to believe; even if the Bible wasn't sent from heaven by facsimile (stated in the movie), it's somewhat less fallible than a conspiracy theory set forth in a modern novel.

Vacation Pictures--Second Installment

At last, I have pictures. These first few are photos we took on the road to and from Lubbock. They are mostly for the benefit of those of you who have not had the opportunity to visit lovely west Texas. They were taken out the window of the car driving at 70 mph. Not bad, considering, I think.

the lovely landscape
an oil derrick
the one tree and a windmill
Patrick practicing standing with his Papa
He looks happy, doesn't he?
Patrick staring up at Gigi
Leda checking on Patrick while Blaze (the Doberman) looks on

Another Travel Day

Today we drove from Big Spring to the Big D (actually one of its many suburbs), making a dinner stop in Abilene along the way. It was kind of sad leaving Big Spring. This was the longest I'd stayed there and was getting used to the laid-back way of life in the small town. Patrick also seemed to like it there. I think he misses his Gigi and Papa already, and probably all the dogs too.

The stop in Abilene was fun. Today is my baby brother's 24th birthday, and when I realized we'd be driving right through his town on his birthday, how could we not stop? It was even more crucial when I discovered that his new bride was going to be out of town at a conference on his birthday. I know our short stop for dinner wasn't much, but I hope it at least made the day somewhat special for him. His wife flies back into Dallas on Friday, so she and Dave are going to spend the weekend here with us. I have a feeling he will be in a much better mood then.

Patrick was very happy to get here tonight. I think the car ride upset his tummy because he's been spitting up more than usual tonight. That didn't stop him from having fun with Nana, though. Our favorite part of the hour before he crashed was when he found the Elmo ball. Every time Nana bounced it or threw it in the air, he gave a huge belly laugh. I'm hoping he'll do it again tomorrow so I can catch it on video. It was just too funny. Matt and I think he found it hilarious because somebody was actually taking the time to play with a ball with him (or because he just hadn't seen one before and couldn't figure it out). The crazy theory is that he liked it because he has an innate athletic ability.

One quick new thing Patrick has started doing, and then I'll start posting pictures. Yesterday I wore my glasses all day long because my allergy eyes couldn't handle contacts. Although he sees them for at least one feeding every day, Patrick suddenly found the glasses fascinating yesterday. During one feeding, he reached up and grabbed them right off my face. He managed to eat while playing with the glasses at the same time, swinging them around and pulling them to his face. I let him play until he started wanting to rub his eyes with the glasses. It was so funny watching him play with his improvised toy. I think he's finally really taking an interest in toys and anything that can possibly be used as a toy. Maybe that will be a good incentive for him to try sitting up and crawling now.

Dog Days of Summer

Today was a much lazier day than the last few. Patrick got caught up on sleep, as did I. My allergies are upset at the five dogs who trade off the spot in my lap, so I've been taking it easy today. Of course, that means I have more time to pay attention to the dogs, which only exacerbates the allergies. It's a vicious cycle. Either way, I enjoyed the quiet day. We only left the house once, for a Sonic fix. I think it must be a west Texas thing, this Sonic addiction. Matt's parents and grandparents insist on having Sonic (drinks especially) nearly every day. I've never understood the draw of Sonic drinks in particular. Yes, they have cool ice, and you can get some interesting combinations, like chocolate Coke or vanilla Dr. Pepper. But none of those combinations really appealed to me until getting here. Then I tried a limeade (Sprite with extra lime) the other night, and it hit the spot. At the hottest and driest part of the afternoon today, I had to have one. We left Patrick with his grandparents for a few minutes to satisfy my craving. I sucked down that route 44 in about fifteen minutes. I hope I can kick the addiction before it takes over my life. Maybe when we leave west Texas tomorrow, I'll leave the addiction behind.

It's been a lot of fun watching the dogs with Patrick again today. I've noticed the dynamics changing some with them. Matt's dog Leda is growing increasingly protective. She's always acted concerned every time he cried, but now she makes sure the other dogs aren't bothering him either. At one point today, I left our room at one end of the hallway to take him into the living room, and Leda chased off the dogs lying at the end of the hall to leave us a good path. She has clearly claimed Patrick as her baby based on the way she protects him, especially around the other dogs. I think I would feel completely safe knowing she's watching over him. Too bad she couldn't feed him or change his diaper; otherwise I'd have a great built-in baby-sitter once we got her back.

I downloaded pictures today and have lots of really good ones. Unfortunately they are currently on another computer that cannot connect to the Internet yet. I may keep tomorrow's post short and throw a bunch of pictures at you instead. We also downloaded some pictures from Gigi's camera, and there were some pictures there from Christmas. I love some of them, so I may put up some of those too. They may be outdated, but they're certainly cute. And you can see just how much he's grown in the past five months.

Marathon Post Ahead

Once again, I'm sorry I've missed several days of posting. As a result, I have much to relay tonight. The busy-ness of the past few days is what has kept me from posting--that and the exhaustion that results.

It all started with the wedding on Saturday. The chaos began early in the morning and lasted all day. It was a beautiful wedding and reception, but I missed most of the wedding. Patrick finally fell asleep for his afternoon nap on me in the chapel where the wedding was to take place about twenty minutes before it began. He slept about ten minutes until he felt the presence of a pretty girl next to him (Matt's cousin) and woke up to flirt. That didn't last long, and he started screaming just before the ceremony was to begin. I had to flee over all of Matt's family in the pew next to us to get out of there in time. I found a quiet place to feed him and hoped he would finish eating before the ceremony ended. Just as the recessional music began to play, we snuck back into the chapel. Great timing. At least he didn't interrupt the ceremony. For the record, though, that makes two weddings this year that I've mostly missed because of him. He was much better behaved at the reception, taking the opportunity to flirt with every woman there. He fell asleep just before Matt gave the best man's toast (tear-jerking, by the way) and stayed asleep until the wedding photographer woke him up to get a few pictures of him. That impromptu photo shoot went well. I'm looking forward to seeing how Patrick's first official professional photos turned out.

As soon as we could escape from the reception, Matt and I hurried home to pack for our overnighter to Lubbock. Although it was a rushed trip, it was a great one. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed west Texas, especially those endless miles of flat fields. I have some great pictures of the scenery on the drive, but I haven't had a chance to download them yet. Maybe tomorrow...

On the drive there, we experienced a frightening, yet typical, west Texas storm. Somehow we avoided the worst of the rain and hail, but we thought we saw a tornado. Fortunately it turned out to be only an unusual cloud formation that closely resembled a tornado. Still, it produced a few moments of mild fear (that's my story, and I'm sticking to it). That was the closest thing to a tornado I've seen in my experiences in west Texas.

The time in Lubbock was awesome. Matt and I drove around the town, showing each other our old haunts. I particularly enjoyed walking around the deserted campus of my college, Lubbock Christian University. We had the place almost completely to ourselves. It was so much fun sharing that special time of my life with Matt. The saddest part of the trip was seeing the ghetto of Lubbock gone. Before I graduated, a real estate mogul in the area was negotiating a deal to tear it down and turn it into a huge and luxurious commercial zone. The residents were fighting the deal because they would be displaced from their homes with nowhere to go. Although I only saw the former ghetto in the dark, it still hurt to see it. Not only was it different than I remember--I don't like to see change--but I also really felt for the people I had known who lived there and might now be without a home.

The bed and breakfast where we stayed was really neat. It was only a few blocks from campus on a road I frequented hundreds of times while I was in Lubbock. It's funny to think how many times I passed the place and never gave it a second glance. It is a beautiful old ranch home called the Clawson House. The owner is a really nice lady who owns and runs the place on her own. It was a much more quaint experience than the b&b where Matt and I stayed for our honeymoon in Denton. Kamie (the owner) even took the time to sit and eat breakfast with us on Sunday morning. It was more like visiting someone's home than staying at a hotel. Between the beautiful place and the personal touch, I would highly recommend that anybody planning to stay in Lubbock at least look at this place.

When we got home on Sunday, very glad to see Patrick again I might add, we only had a short time to relax before heading out to socialize with my friends from Big Spring. Yes, even though this is Matt's hometown, I have friends here too. They are people I knew when I went to LCU that I've met again via the Internet and blogging. We ate dinner with Lauren and Scott and their son Will and Harmony and her daughter Raylee. Will just turned one and is anxious to cruise around and explore everything. Raylee is about six weeks younger than Patrick and increasingly mobile, on the verge of crawling. This was the closest thing to a playdate Patrick has ever had, as the last time he was really around other babies was when he was in the NICU. It was also a momentous occasion for Matt and me because we really don't get opportunities to socialize much. They are all really good people and easy to converse with, so we had a great time. I also think Patrick liked getting to be around other kids about his own age. I'm hoping watching Will essentially walk and Raylee sit so well and almost crawl will encourage Patrick to try some of those skills himself. It was actually a little sad to see how much farther behind Patrick really is with those skills, at least compared to Raylee. I know between the prematurity and the acid reflux, it's to be expected, but somehow in my mind I'd convinced myself he was right on track, if not ahead. While his doctor is anything but worried about his progress, it still disappoints me to think maybe he isn't the smartest baby ever and that maybe the prematurity affected him more than I'd let myself think.

Today was mostly a lazy day, but we did have a couple of neat outings. We took Patrick to the top of the "mountain" in Big Spring. While it may not be a mountain in the truest sense, it is definitely one of the tallest hills around, and for someone who grew up in south Texas, farther south Texas, and Lubbock (flat, flatter, and flattest), I think I'm justified in calling it a mountain. We could see all of Big Spring from the top. We went back later in the evening, just after sunset, and we could see the lights of the city, and even on the horizon, the lights from the next town over. I'm disappointed that I forgot the camera both times we went. Patrick really seemed to love the wind up there.

The second time we went on the mountain, we were accompanied by Lauren, Scott, and Will. We'd had dinner with them again and then decided to get our money's worth out of our day pass into the park by making a second trip. It was fun seeing the city from the perspective of Matt's parents--native Big Springers--and Lauren and Scott who are relatively new to the city.

Ok, take a deep breath...I think we're caught up now. I apologize for saving up all the many stories from the weekend and then throw them all at you at once (or most of them anyway). I'm also sorry that I don't have any pictures ready yet. It might not be until Wednesday night for those. We'll just have to see how tomorrow goes. Also, if I remember any other stories or anecdotes I've forgotten tonight, I might just be throwing them into the next few days' posts.

I'm a Slacker

Yes, I'm sure many of you noticed my absence from the blogging world yesterday. We spent most of the day on the road to Big Spring, TX, for my brother-in-law's wedding, which will take place tomorrow afternoon. After getting to the great metropolis of Big Spring, Matt and I had to run some errands with the bride and groom, and we didn't get home until about 11. It took some time after that figuring out how to get logged in to the Internet here, and by the time Matt figured it out, I was out. The long day wore out more than just Patrick.

I'm going to just give an abbreviated summary of the past few days because they've been busy and I'm still too tired to go on and on (as usual). I have to start by mentioning how much I love Texas. I couldn't help but marvel at that on the drive yesterday. I forget how beautiful west Texas can be when I'm in the forests of east Texas all the time. There's just something oddly romantic about the ruggedness of west Texas that I love, although I realize I'm one of the few.

The drive itself was uneventful, but long. Patrick rode in the car with his Papa and Gigi and was apparently quite well-behaved. He's adjusted to the non-routine here pretty well too. My favorite part is watching him with the dogs. Papa and Gigi have two dogs and are watching our dog Leda, and Matt's brother is staying here with his two dogs until the wedding. That makes a total of five dogs. I expected that to be a bit much for Patrick who rarely sees dogs. Instead, he has somehow charmed these furry friends to the point that they vie for his attention. I never expected to watch three Dobermans and a pit bull be so attentive to one person, especially a baby. What's funny is that I completely trust these big dogs around Patrick; they wouldn't hurt a fly. I'm a little more worried about the schnauzer than the rest, simply because she hasn't lost all her puppy-ness yet. Matt and I are thrilled how Leda has taken to Patrick. She sits outside our door while he's sleeping, waiting for him to make the slightest sound. She's better than a baby monitor. It's heart-warming to see how well big sister and little brother are getting along in their first meeting.

It's also fun being in a new place because there is a whole new group of people who haven't met Patrick yet. Papa and Gigi in particular are having a blast parading him around town, showing off the real thing instead of just pictures. Patrick loves it too; he thrives on that much attention. As expected, though, he crashes when he gets a chance to sleep. All this activity really wears him out.

My favorite moment of the last few days happened just a few hours ago at the wedding rehearsal. Patrick was starting to get fussy, so I was walking him around the church while everyone else rehearsed. I thought he would probably be getting sleepy soon, and I was a little worried that we didn't have anywhere he likes to sleep, like his bed or his carseat (when it's moving of course). So I just held him close and continued to walk him and talk to him. Sure enough, eventually I started to feel the weight of his head against my shoulder. He had fallen asleep in my arms. He fights that so much anymore. If he's sleepy, he just wants to be put down in his bed or carseat and left alone. He hasn't fallen asleep on me like that in months. I love that in a room full of people I can still have a special moment with my baby.

Ok, ok, no pictures either. I may not have any for a few days. I am out of my picture-taking, picture-downloading, and blogging routine. That means that for now, be satisfied with a blog at all. In a few days, though, you'll probably get another installment of many (probably too many) vacation pictures. Stay tuned for that!

Surfer Dude

Yes, in fact, I am waiting for the maid yet again today. She was at the room right next to ours when I left, making sure to take off the "do not disturb" sign. I dawdled at lunch, doing everything I could to give her plenty of time to finish our room. When I got back, she was doing the room on the other side of ours. I entered the room expecting it to be fresh and clean, but nope. I completely don't understand her system. What logical system would force her to skip our room? And in that one hour we were gone? I thought I'd timed it perfectly today. At least we have something to do today while she's cleaning our room, if Patrick is up from his nap in time.

You see, last night we took Patrick swimming for the first time. Here is the before picture:
He just knows he's too cool in his swimsuit and sunglasses. That means, yes, we actually found a swimsuit to fit him. It was dark outside, so the sunglasses were for show, but he's been wearing them often lately since he has been out in his stroller a lot this week.

I really had no idea what to expect from Patrick when he got in the water. I know he likes his baths, but I think that's as much because he's naked as the water itself. Also, Matt and I had forgotten about one small fact. Austin is a bit drier than Houston, which means it gets cooler in the evenings. A cool front also came through as we were on our way here. It was reasonably comfortable outside, but the water was absolutely frigid, at least for my taste. I got in up to my waist but was still shivering the whole time I was in the water. I was very nervous about how Patrick would react when I realized how cold it was. When he didn't scream with his feet in the water, we decided to go ahead and put him in his floatie, which would submerge him up to about his waist. He loved it. It has little handles for a parent to grab to pull the baby around in the water, but Patrick found that if he held on with all his might, he could sit up really straight. Not once did he scream from the chill of the water or being wet or anything. I think that's the happiest he was all day.

We didn't stay in long, partly because we were worried about Patrick getting too cold in the water but mostly because I was freezing and couldn't wait to get warm again. I think I am going to try to take him out swimming again this afternoon, though, when the maid gets here. It should be much warmer now, so maybe neither of us will freeze.

Oh, yeah, I'm sorry we didn't get any pictures of Patrick in the water. We didn't feel comfortable bringing our nice camera down to the public pool and leaving it there. We were also a bit nervous that it might get wet. We'll have to see about finding a way to get those kinds of pictures later.

Vacation Pictures--First Installment

I'm sorry I've been neglecting posting pictures with the past few posts. We have been taking a few; I've just been out of the routine of downloading them every night and editing my favorites. So here are pictures from Sunday night through tonight.
These first two are Patrick hamming it up shortly after getting to the hotel.
I love this mischievous grin. It makes you wonder what plans he's cooking up, doesn't it?

I had a lot of problems with the lighting in this group of pictures. The ones with the flash ended up washed out, and the few without it were too dark, even after editing. Even though this one is less than perfect, I'm posting it because I love his eyes.
This was Patrick playing with Daddy just after he got back from his training on the first day of vacation. Patrick was a pill all day but was so thrilled to see Daddy. I had to get a picture of him being happy in those few minutes before the crying started again.

Here's my cool guy posing with me just before going swimming. I'll post another picture tomorrow when I tell the whole story of his first swim experience. In the meantime, enjoy a good laugh on Patrick.

More Baby Drama

I hope everyone doesn't mind yet another rant about Patrick today because that's what's on my mind.

Yesterday afternoon, Patrick continued to be fussy for me after I blogged. It took about two more hours before I got him to actually go to sleep for his nap (at least he took one!). Then, naturally, as soon as Matt got back to the room, Patrick was awake and happy and ready to play. He was great during dinner--and the long drive to get there--and was even content as we wandered around the store for a while after that. He was awake much longer than usual and didn't even act tired.

Then we got back and he screamed. He was so far beyond tired that he couldn't get himself relaxed enough to sleep. We finally had to leave him alone in the room, retreat to the bedroom part of the suite, and let him scream. Finally he fell asleep.

He woke up again at 6:30 this morning, upset and hungry. He hasn't gotten up that early in a long time. Fortunately, a quick feeding and a little cuddle time with Mommy were enough to calm him right back to sleep. The rest of the morning was nice; he let me sleep until 11:00.

Here's where the real rant comes in. He had been acting like his reflux medicine had finally gotten control of his belly, not spitting up more than a couple of drops all morning. That lasted until I woke him up for his bath after getting myself ready (mistake #1). He spit up a little in the bath, of course just as I'd finished washing and rinsing him. To keep the smell from sticking, I proceeded to wash and rinse him again. Then just as I put him down to get him lotioned and dressed, he exploded, shooting spit-up all over the floor and me. At least he acted much happier after getting all that out of him.

I had been really careful to prevent the same crying spell that started it all yesterday before lunch by having almost everything ready to go as soon as he was dressed. That way he wouldn't have to wait on me and get impatient. Of course, when he drowned me in spit-up, that killed that idea. Before I could leave, I needed to change clothes and find some perfume or something to cover up the sour milk smell. I was lucky that he didn't cry too much during that time, but it still got him all worked up again.

He cried at lunch unless the spoon was in his mouth. Again, it was a struggle trying to feed both myself and him at the same time. I must be getting better, though, because we managed to finish eating at about the same time today. Then came the mad rush to get out of there before he could start screaming from impatience again. Really, it was getting close to naptime, and it's quite possible that's what was causing the fussiness.

When we got back, I discovered the maid hadn't come to clean the room while we were gone. I'd deliberately stalled, picking a restaurant much farther away today, so that we didn't have the same problem we did yesterday of having to wait on the maid. Apparently they had given up on us actually leaving for the day. I called and they're planning to come by when they finish all the other rooms, but then I'll have to wake Patrick up from his nap and find something to do to entertain him while they're here. What a pain. It's tempting to just sit downstairs in the lobby and let him cry. Maybe they'll all get so annoyed by it that they'll encourage the maid to not let the same thing happen tomorrow. I watched the maid down the hall as she watched us leave. It feels like she deliberately ignored our room, even though I know (I hope) that isn't the case.

Ugh, sorry for the long rant again today. Traveling can be frustrating sometimes. Patrick does not react well to the change in routine, and that causes a lot of trouble for me. Of course, I don't react well to a change in routine either, and maybe I'm passing that on to him. While I'm looking forward to the other stops on our trip to see family, I'm already kind of anxious to be back home and back to a normal routine.

Balance

It's all about balance. Patrick had overall a really good day yesterday, so he had to balance it with a frustrating one today. I guess it's good that he will balance the bad days with good ones, but it's disappointing to have such a great day yesterday and follow it up with one like this.

Patrick adapted to the change quite well yesterday. He didn't seem bothered by the change in routine as we had a flurry of activity trying to get packed and ready to go. He was napping in his room as we kept having to sneak in to grab a few more things. He would hear us, wake up and watch, and then go right back to sleep without making any noises at all.

On the road he started getting whiny after a few hours, and Matt and I suspected he was just getting sleepy again and couldn't get comfortable enough to doze off in his new car seat. We turned on some classical music for him, and he listened intently from the first note. It kept him from whining and eventually calmed him enough to put him to sleep.

After checking into the hotel, we had to go get food and run some errands. For one of the first times, Patrick had to get his solid food somewhere other than his high chair. Fortunately his new stroller works really well for feeding too--something I hadn't thought about until necessity forced us to get creative last night. Although before last night, Patrick didn't seem to like his stroller, crying most of the time he was in it, he had no problems last night. The change in feeding location and routine didn't bother him in the least. He was happy and charming throughout our errands after dinner. Not once the rest of the day did he act like we had changed his routine at all.

This morning started out fine too. He woke me up by talking at about 9:45, much later than I expected--not that I minded sleeping in later. He was calm as I got him ready to eat and while he was eating. We played for a little while after, and then he started getting fussy and whiny. It very much resembled his "I want to go back to bed" whine, so that's what I did. But he continued to whine and cry on and off for 15-20 minutes. Finally he was quiet enough that I felt safe risking a fast shower.

By the time I was out of the shower, the crying had started again. It continued the whole time I got myself ready for the day and while I got his bath ready. He loved his bath, fortunately. That was the one bright spot of the morning. He even cooed and talked to me while I got him dressed, the part he usually cries through. Then I had to let him lie in his bed for a few minutes while I got everything ready for us to leave for lunch. Those five minutes were non-stop crying of the blood-curdling type. If anybody was in the hallway or a room near us, they probably wondering what on earth I was doing to that poor child. Finally we were ready to go. As long as he was in the stroller and the stroller was moving, he was relatively content. But he whined through lunch at Burger King. Most of my time was spent keeping food going to his mouth because he can't whine nearly as loudly when he has a mouth full of food. I barely had time to inhale my Whopper between his bites.

When he finished eating, he was ready to go, right then. He did not want to wait for me to pop a few fries in my mouth or refill my root beer; he had had enough. Then when we got back to the hotel, the maid was finishing up cleaning our room. That meant Patrick and I had to wander and kill some time until we could get back into the room. Again, as long as the stroller kept moving, he was ok. Let's just say I know the hotel way too well now.

He cried even louder when we got back in our room. I got him out of the stroller, thinking that would help. Nope. Maybe if I walk him around, he'll stop crying. Nope. Does he want to stand? Nope. Play? Nope. Finally, completely out of ideas, I put him in his crib. Naturally he screamed even louder, this time at that pitch that grates on my nerves and gives me an instant headache and often makes me nauseous too. Out of spite, I suppose, I left him there anyway, seething in the other room. It was about time for him to want a nap, so I prayed he would fall asleep. Finally, just a few minutes ago, the screaming stopped. I can only hope he will stay asleep all afternoon until Matt gets back from his training. Why is it Patrick is usually only this annoying when I'm the only parent around? Of course when Matt's back tonight, Patrick will probably play the charming angel again. "Who? Me? Do you really think someone with a face this sweet would cause trouble for Mommy?"

If he stays true to his theory of balance, however, tomorrow should be a better day. Maybe he'll save his next cry day for when Matt offers to take him off my hands for a while. That would only be fair, wouldn't it?

The Love of my Life

You may have noticed that I'm blogging much later than normal today. Most of the day was spent preparing to leave for vacation and driving to Austin for the first leg of our vacation. This is the first chance I've gotten to sit down and blog. You may also notice that I blogged my Mother's Day post yesterday. That's because, as important as Mother's Day is, today is much more important for another reason. One year ago today, I promised my life and my future to my dear husband Matt.

Before meeting Matt, I wondered if I would ever be able to stay with one person for a full year, dating or married. Now that this year has passed, it feels so short and I wonder how I ever doubted I would make it a year once I'd found the right person.

Matt and I met on eHarmony--yes, really. I was always skeptical of people who told me they had met their true love via the Internet. It seemed like such an impersonal way to meet someone, a method of finding a semblance of true love for only the desperate. I signed up for eHarmony almost by accident (that's another story for another day) and found it interesting enough to stick with it, but the guys I "met" online were only acquaintance-quality at first. Then I read Matt's profile. I'm not sure even now what it was about the profile that sparked my interest, but it did. Within the matter of a couple of weeks we had progressed through eHarmony's steps of communication, personal e-mail, and talking on the phone. We met for the first time on New Year's Eve of 2004. By Valentine's Day of '05, we knew this was the real thing. We were certain enough to get engaged.

Just as we saw no need to drag out the dating phase of the relationship, we didn't waste any time getting hitched either. On this day one year ago, we got married at my parents' church in Dallas. It was a beautiful wedding with mostly family and close friends. One of my college friends even performed the ceremony. That was a day I will remember fondly for the rest of my life. I know many women, years after the wedding, can list the things about it that they would change if they could do it over; but I don't know that I would be able to name a single thing I would have done differently. It truly was the wedding of my dreams.

The most perfect part of it, though, was Matt. No matter how beautiful my dress was or how perfect the flowers, it would have been ugly if I didn't have the perfect man to share the day with. Every day since then has been just as beautiful. I feel so comfortable with him; he is my best friend. I never get tired of having him around and miss him terribly when he's at work or gone for any reason. I thank God daily for showing me what true love can feel like. I look forward to every day of the rest of my life that I get to spend with Matt.

I know that I may not feel this overwhelming emotion with each anniversary that passes, but this one seems more momentous than most. Although I knew when I said, "I do," one year ago that I was committing my life, I'm still surprised that I'm already celebrating my first anniversary. It has gone by so fast and has been so much easier than I'd heard marriage was. I can't wait to see what the second year has in store for us--and the third year, and the fourth...

Matt, I love you so much. I'm sorry I didn't get you more for our first anniversary, but I want you (and the entire blogworld) to know I still love you with all my heart. Happy anniversary!

Mother's Day Musings

Every so often, it still surprises me, catches me off guard, this mommy thing. I'll be in the process of fastening him in his high chair chattering at him in baby talk or waking up in the morning to the sounds of his cries--or more recently, baby talk--and it will hit me like a brick. For the life of me, I can't figure out how I ended up here. A year and a half ago, I was a single high school English teacher wondering if I would ever find the love of my life. Now I'm a married stay-at-home mom living in the suburbs, the definition of a soccer mom. Sure, it's always what I'd hoped to be and imagined I'd be, but it still shocks me that those daydreams have become reality.

When these surreal moments occur, I have to pause and reassure myself that this is more than a dream. I'm not living someone else's life, or even baby-sitting their kid. Patrick's real parents are not going to walk through the door at any moment and rescue me from the onslaught of puke and poop. I am the one responsible for cleaning up the grossness, and more importantly, raising him into a respectful young man and adult.

Patrick enjoying my Mother's Day gift

These are interesting musings for Mother's Day. A year ago I sort of celebrated Mother's Day, as I was expecting to be a mother in a few months. I imagined then what it would probably be like with the baby and started forming that life as a reality in my head, but it was nothing like the real thing. I still believe I had every right to celebrate last year; I was a mother already the minute he was conceived. It's not the same as this year, however. Now I have living proof to hold out to everyone instead of just a secret growing in my belly. Now I've experienced that overwhelming love that comes when I look at my baby, this tiny living being that I had a part in creating.

More and more I'm thinking that Mother's Day is more than a day for others to celebrate their moms (although that is special and important), but a day for mothers themselves to celebrate motherhood. I have yet to comprehend the tip of this mystery that is motherhood, but I'm looking forward to uncovering more and more about it each of the many glorious days of being a mommy that stretch out ahead of me.

Payback

I wonder if last night about midnight, my mom sat straight up in her sleep and started laughing. After dealing all day with Patrick's best imitation of a spit-up fountain, I had to attempt to administer his acid reflux medicine, which is supposed to slow that fountain to a mere trickle. It's usually easier at night when he has been sleeping for a little while because I can catch him off guard. Last night, the tactic didn't work. He kept trying to squirm away from me, turning his head away from the medicine and closing his mouth tightly. About the time I realized I was being forced to wrestle my 13 1/2 pound baby just to give him medicine, I remembered some stories from my childhood. Apparently my son takes after me in all the ways I wish he wouldn't. I went through burp rags more quickly than diapers too, and it seems that by the time I was Patrick's age it took both my parents to wrestle me whenever I needed medicine. I can imagine my mother raining down curses on me through gritted teeth during those ordeals: "Just wait until you have one just like you!" As that curse came to life last night, she must have felt the power of her words over all those miles and smiled at the sweet taste of revenge.

My Sensitive Boy

I already knew Patrick was special, but I didn't understand just how special. He's starting to show more and more than he's more than your typical baby. He is developing a real sensitive side. Most babies are innately selfish, making sure their own needs are met first and foremost. They may react some to their parents' emotions, crying when the parents are upset or laughing when the parents laugh, but Patrick takes it further than that.

The other night I was feeling under the weather, and as usually happens when I'm truly feeling bad, I started crying. Patrick was sitting in his chair right next to mine when I broke down. He had been whining, wanting attention and probably food. After I'd been crying for a minute, though, I realized I didn't hear the whining anymore. I peeked at him, only to see him watching me intently. The look on his face was a combination of curiosity and concern. That pulled me out of my funk quickly, realizing that my baby was worried about me. Isn't that supposed to happen the other way around? He didn't cry because I was upset; in fact, he stopped crying when he realized something was wrong. I must have a very intuitive, very sensitive baby to recognize Mommy's upset and to be worried about me, not his own discomfort.

Patrick has also started asking for my attention in different ways. Sometimes he will still cry or whine if he wants my attention, but if I'm right there with him doing something other than playing with him, he will make a cooing noise and reach out his arm towards me. I think he's starting to understand that the crying and whining only irritate me, even if they do get my attention, and unless it's serious, I'm more likely to pay attention to him if he's acting cute. It certainly works; how can I ignore him when he's reaching out for me and smiling?

Unfortunately, whatever I had the other night may have gotten passed on to him. We have his first non-check-up doctor's appointment this afternoon. I don't think his illness is too serious, but we thought it was best to have it checked out before leaving town for several weeks. I wasn't so sure he needed the appointment when I made it yesterday afternoon, but when he was still awake and crying at two this morning, I started to be relieved he had an appointment today. It must be worse than I thought if it kept him awake that long. He is a boy who loves his sleep, so that's a good indicator that something isn't right when he can't fall asleep. Hopefully we'll get good news from the doctor and we can clear up this problem easily and quickly.

Update: I think that $20 co-pay went to my peace of mind because it certainly didn't go to healing Patrick. Everything the doctor said confirmed what I'd already suspected; I heard nothing new. He is spitting up more because of his acid reflux. As he gets bigger and weighs more, the medicine does less to control it. We can start giving him a little more medicine until it starts controlling the reflux again. I'd even predicted the exact maximum amount we can give him. He's also had a slight rash on his back, especially after his afternoon nap when he sleeps on his back. I wasn't too worried about the rash but thought I'd better call the doctor as a precaution. After the doctor saw the rash on his back, he confirmed it was most likely heat rash as I'd suspected. That means I came home from the doctor feeling proud of myself and my diagnostic skills, but frustrated because we wasted that money. At least we know now that he is cleared for vacation. Oh, yeah, and he got weighed (in his clothes, which is different from normal; this weight is therefore a little high). He is currently 13 lbs and 9 oz. He's not gaining as quickly as I'd like, but apparently it's reasonable and consistent. So there's nothing to worry about.

More Than Hormones

Becoming a mother has changed me in many ways beyond what I do with my day or the shape of my body. I could blame some of these changes on hormones, but I know they're more than that. I am now connected to a large group of women who are also mothers. I sympathize with them and find myself feeling what I imagine they are feeling--laughing and rejoicing when I hear stories of preemie babies coming home from the hospital or children saying their first words or taking their first steps, crying when I hear of children with debilitating diseases or who pass away just as they're getting their start in life.

I heard a story the other night on the news of a two-year-old killed in a freak accident with a car. The series of events was so incredible and statistically impossible. All I could do was cry. There was nobody at fault here, yet this poor mother will never again get to hold her baby. She will eternally blame herself for what happened and play the "what if" game. What if she hadn't left him in the car alone for those few seconds? What if he'd been sitting in a different seat in the car? What if that bike hadn't been there?

I am actually tormented by this story, knowing how easily the impossible could happen to any of us, even my own sweet son. Every time I remember the horror of this story, I can only hug my own baby tighter and beg God to never let that happen to him. How can I feel so sad for this mother I don't even know yet so relieved nothing like that has happened to me? That is one of my greatest fears right now--that something bad, something life-altering could happen to my baby. More and more I have to refrain myself from checking on him any time he makes a noise I'm not expecting, even if it's completely normal. I experience a tiny twinge of fear every time I creep into his room when he's sleeping, afraid I'm not going to see his little chest rise and fall like I expect. The fear is by no means debilitating, but as each day passes and I fall more and more in love with him, I grow just that more fearful that something could happen to take him from me before he's lived a full life.

Then I remember how many miracles have been sent his way already in his short life. He shouldn't have been able to be conceived when he was; he should have been miscarried--probably at two different times; he shouldn't have been born acting like a normal baby two months early. We thought he was going to have eye problems, probably a lazy eye and possibly even blindness in one eye; instead the eye specialist couldn't find the original problem. One miracle after another have turned Patrick from a merely a dream into a perfect baby. If God didn't intend for him to live a full life, then why did He bother sending miracle after miracle to save him? Although I know the logic isn't flawless, looking at the situation from this perspective puts those fears into perspective too. If I didn't fear for his life as I was pushing him out unexpectedly two months early, then there's no reason to fear now either. I hope that I'm right, that the greatest struggles of his life were fought before he was born. So far, that seems to be the case. Just look at my well-adjusted baby playing with his daddy...
...and snuggling with his daddy. I love seeing this as much as Matt loves being a part of it.

Vacation Plans

The next few days are going to be relatively busy ones as Matt and I start preparing for our vacation. We leave on Sunday for a tour of Texas. Actually, most of the trip is for practical reasons that just happen to fall around the same time. We're just throwing in a few extras to turn it into a real family vacation--our first.

We start out in Austin next week. Matt has a class he has to take for work that has to take place at National Instruments in Austin. He is allowed to take Patrick and me along since the hotel costs the same for three people as one. That makes the first leg of our vacation somewhat inexpensive.

From there, we head to Matt's hometown of Big Spring for his brother's wedding. That should be lots of fun. Patrick hasn't been there yet (outside my belly anyway). It will be great for him to see his grandparents again, and this time on their home turf. We're also excited to introduce Patrick to Matt's dog from before we got married. Matt's parents have been taking care of Leda until we're able to take her back. (I think Matt's parents are getting kind of attached to her, though. I can see how that could happen.)

We'll stay in Big Spring for close to a week. During that time Matt and I are planning to spend a night in Lubbock--away from Patrick. We both went to college in Lubbock with part of that time overlapping, and somehow we never met. It will be neat to share our different memories of the same town. We're starting to get a bit nervous about leaving Patrick for a full night, but we know he'll be in the best of care with his grandparents. I have a feeling we'll be making plenty of calls to Big Spring that night, though!

From Big Spring, we'll drive to Dallas, making a stop in Abilene on the way. My brother lives in Abilene, and it looks like we'll be there on his birthday. How could we pass up the opportunity to spend some time with him on his birthday? We're not sure yet what we're planning to do once we get to my parents' place in Dallas. A few options we're considering include another night away at the bed and breakfast where we honeymooned and perhaps a day at Six Flags. We're both roller coaster junkies and haven't gone to an amusement park together yet.

The whole trip should be lots of fun. Right now, it's just fun thinking about it and planning for it. Our list of errands and things we need for the trip keeps growing, and with it some minor stress, but most of these are fun things. We need lots of little things for Patrick. For example, last weekend we bought him that smaller, more portable stroller. We're also accumulating the things he needs for swimming, since the first hotel has a pool. Speaking of that, does anybody know where we might find a swimsuit small enough for him? The smallest size I've found is 12 months, which is definitely too big for him.

Anyway, sorry to ramble on so long about our upcoming vacation. It's probably not nearly as interesting to everyone else as it is to us; that's just what is on my mind most right now, since it's just around the corner.

I've had this video ready to put on the blog for several days now and just kept forgetting. Here, Patrick is standing up on Matt's lap. He'd been standing for a long time, so his legs keep giving out, but you can still see how strong he's getting.

Birthday Photo Shoot

Although I received a few material gifts yesterday, my birthday was more full of gestures than physical gifts. I got many phone calls and other birthday wishes. The best gift yesterday, though, was when Matt did a photo shoot of me and Patrick. For the first time, I was thrilled with the way they turned out, instead of just ok with them.

Here are a few of just Patrick being cute, standing up and showing off. Notice how well his hair was cooperating yesterday.
Wuz up, dawg (notice his shirt says "woof, woof")? The saggy pants make him look like he could say that one right.
Hee, hee, hee. This is my new favorite picture of him.
He was standing up completely on his own as long as he could hold on to the chair. He leaned up against it more after a minute, which is when this picture was snapped, but before this he was holding on only with his hands.

I don't usually act goofy in front of a camera because I look stupid, not fun. This time it worked, though. But Patrick doesn't look to be having as good a time as I am.

The rest of the pictures turned out to look sweet. I'm so pleased with them. And this is me on an afternoon when I didn't even bother to put on make-up. I really like my new birthday outfit I'm wearing. My mom does a great job picking out clothes for me, doesn't she?

By the way, grandmas and others, if you would like to see some of the other better pictures that didn't make it on the blog, let me know and I'll send them to you.

The Idyllic Life

Today is my birthday. I am twenty-seven years old today, actually as of 5:16 this morning (accounting for the time change). For some reason this year I feel different on my birthday than I ever have before. Usually I anticipate my birthday for weeks ahead of time, dropping subtle and not-so-subtle hints that whole time so I will get the maximum number of birthday wishes--and presents--as possible. I think carefully about my birthday wish list, considering which items are most important to put on that list.

This year, the day snuck up on me. It's not until the last day or so that I even acknowledged my birthday was looming, and until this morning it didn't sink in that it was really happening. Only my close family and friends know it's my birthday, and I don't mind leaving it at that. Suddenly this year my birthday just isn't as important.

I think the combination of getting married and having a kid have changed my perspective about my birthday. I no longer care as much about what happens on my birthday, as long as Matt and Patrick have special days on theirs. Don't get me wrong--it's great to have people recognize my birthday; it's just not as important as it used to be.

I also have no idea what to ask for. Instead of a long list that I am forced to pare down to what is actually reasonable to expect, I am at a complete loss. I've been trying to come up with ideas to request for weeks, and I still have no idea. I finally realized why: there is nothing I want or need. I suppose I wouldn't mind having a new book or something like that, but my list of wants has diminished greatly in the last year. I now have all I ever wanted and then some. I am so perfectly content in my new life that I can't think of a single thing important enough to ask for.

It's funny to think back to previous years when I would ask for clothes, books, CDs, and any number of other material things, thinking they would make my birthday special. While I enjoyed receiving all that stuff, they never satisfied me the way I'm already satisfied now. I had no idea then what I was missing. Of course I wanted to get married and had some clue that life would be better once I did, but I really didn't understand how much better it would be with the right man. And I didn't even know to miss having a child. I assumed that was so far off that I didn't know to miss it yet. This birthday, though, I have the gifts that I never knew I was missing, that I never knew to request, and suddenly life is good. As simple as I expect my birthday celebration to be today, I'm sure it is going to be the most special birthday yet.

7-7-7

Family picture before church on May 7

Today, on the seventh, Patrick turns seven months old. To commemorate the occasion, here are seven lessons I've learned in the last seven months:

1. If Patrick needs a bath before going somewhere for the day, I absolutely cannot get myself dressed first--unless I want to change out of pee-splattered clothes again before leaving.

2. As much as Patrick loves spinach, it is the most disgusting ingredient in his diet. Not only does it stain almost anything (including carpet), it also stinks badly in its pure form, even worse when it comes out the second time, and the worst in the diaper. Ewww.

3. Everything exists for the sole purpose of entertaining Patrick, especially people. Once they no longer entertain him, they have no reason to stick around.

4. Patrick has yet to understand the difference between his outside voice and his inside voice ("six-inch" voice)--especially during prayers at church.

5. Babies develop a personality a lot sooner than I expected. Patrick oozes with personality all day long and somehow seems to find more to show us every day.

6. Naptime is the best time of day. I look forward to it all morning, anticipating it like Christmas or my birthday. I love the few minutes of me time I get after several hours catering to Patrick's needs. Then a few short minutes after he drifts off, all I want is for him to wake up and need me again.

7. There is nothing sweeter than knowing he loves me. When he smiles that huge toothless sleepy grin when I lean over his crib each morning, I know without a doubt that all the frustrations and tears, poop and spit-up are more than worth it to have Patrick in my life.

Patrick in his "big boy" stroller for the first time

(He needed a smaller, more portable stroller for vacation.)

My First Mother's Day Present

This has become Patrick's favorite thing to do:
He wants to be standing just about all the time. He can balance standing as well as he can sitting, holding on to us only by the fingers. Sometimes he can stand next to a chair, holding himself up for about five seconds. He will stand on the floor, the chair, or on our laps. It doesn't matter where; he's happy while he's standing. When Patrick stood on Matt's lap like this yesterday, Matt realized just how much Patrick likes to stand--and how tiring it can be for us to hold him like this indefinitely.

So yesterday, Matt got my Mother's Day present a little early:
Now my hands are once again free. I no longer have to hold Patrick in a standing position all day, when he's not sleeping or eating, because he can stand on his own. I can even leave him in here to play independently for a few minutes so that I can get stuff done during the day. This is the Mother's Day present that keeps on giving. Patrick will be more entertained, Matt will come home to a cleaner house because I will have a little more free time to do chores, and I will steal back a few more minutes of free time each day. I'm glad Matt picked up on all those well-placed hints about how much I wanted to get Patrick an Exer-Saucer.

And they say diamonds are a girl's best friend!

Patrick, the Player

The exciting event of yesterday was my check-up at the doctor. It was somewhat less than exciting for me, but Patrick had a blast. When we walked in the waiting room, it was mostly full, sweltering hot, and silent as a tomb. After a few minutes I realized the wait was not going to be as short as I'd hoped, so I pulled Patrick out of his carrier. He immediately made it his mission to break the tension in the room and get every person there to smile at him. It certainly didn't take him long to meet those goals. In a room primarily full of pregnant women, they definitely can't keep their eyes off a baby, especially one who is doing his best to get their attention. It was hilarious watching him flirt. He pulled out all his tricks: smiling, laughing, chattering, standing up, and snuggling with Mommy and acting shy. I think if he could say audible words, he would have started asking for phone numbers.

The first woman he started flirting with was a NICU nurse who was eager to hear Patrick's story. Patrick must have recognized her love of babies the way he kept trying to get her attention the whole time we were there. Another woman Patrick kept staring at had her newborn baby with her. That woman told us her son was just under two months old and already wearing 3-6 month clothing. I recognized the onesie the baby was wearing; Patrick had worn the same one to bed the other night, except in a smaller size. We all got a good laugh out of that.

We had to wait over an hour before being sent to a room, so Patrick was getting bored, fussy, and sleepy by the time I saw the doctor. A nurse snuck in during my exam to steal him to keep him from crying anymore. It was great watching how easily he adjusted to being held by someone new, even when I was out of eyesight. Maybe it helped that she was also the mother of a six-month-old. Patrick seems to have an instinct about people who deal with babies daily or just really love babies. He gravitates toward these people everywhere we go.

By the time we got home, we were both completely exhausted. Patrick found just enough energy to eat before crashing completely, but he was too tired to stay awake for his solid food first. I managed to stay awake to eat but collapsed on the couch the rest of the evening. I'm not sure what exactly was so draining about the outing, but I'm glad I had a quiet evening to recover. Both Patrick and I woke up more energized this morning.

Another big step he took yesterday was not getting a bottle all day. The last time we went to his pediatrician, he okayed ending his vitamins because he was getting enough nutrition from the solid food, but suggested continuing them until we'd finished the bottle. We finally drained the vitamin bottle on Wednesday night. It's weird not having empty bottles in the sink and not having to pump before bed. I think I can get used to this new routine.

I didn't get any pictures yesterday because of the doctor's appointment followed by the sleepy evening, but here's a video from a few days ago. I know you've all seen pictures of him playing in his gym, but it's fun to watch him bat at the toys and talk too.

New Talents

There's still not a lot going on around here. Patrick's continuing to progress, but slowly. One of his favorite new activities is practicing standing. He has gotten really good at holding up all his weight with his legs and locking his knees so he doesn't suddenly fall. Sometimes he can even balance with me holding on to him with only one hand. He hasn't figured out yet that he can stand next to a chair if he holds on, but I have a feeling he'll get there soon. He absolutely loves standing up too. Earlier today, he was getting fussy, and I helped him stand on my lap. Suddenly he was laughing hysterically. I wasn't even doing anything remarkable; he was just that happy to be standing. I would love to get some pictures of him standing, but I can't both take them and hold him at the same time. Maybe in the next couple of evenings I will be able to persuade Matt to either play photographer or hold Patrick while I do.

Patrick also loves grabbing things, especially clothes and hair. That's nothing new, but grabbing his own clothes is. This was just too cute to watch yesterday, as he showed off his belly with one hand while playing with the other. Isn't that little boy belly adorable?

A little while before going down for a nap, he spit up all over those cute shorts, so when I changed his diaper later, I just ditched the shorts altogether. He also has a tendency to push out his belly like a blowfish when I start to close his diaper, then suck it back in like normal later. That means his diapers are usually a little loose, as you can see in this picture. My favorite part of the picture, though, is that he managed to roll over on his belly and then pull his legs up underneath him. This is another talent that he pretends he can't do when he's wide awake and having tummy time. Once he coordinates this leg movement with getting his arms under him (which he regularly does during tummy time), he may be just about ready to start crawling. That's a scary thought! My little baby can't be ready to crawl yet!

Cries and Laughter

I know I attempted to avoid complaining about my day yesterday, but I'm going to take a few minutes to vent now. Not only did Patrick whine all morning, but he also cried all afternoon and evening. At one point I was so frustrated I called Matt at work to complain. I think even hearing Patrick in the background didn't quite convince him how bad it really was. When he got home and saw Patrick, however, he began to understand my frustration. The screaming was non-stop except when he was sleeping. He even cried or whined through every meal. I was so relieved when Patrick went to bed for the night that for a few minutes I just lay on the floor and revelled in the quiet. What finally relaxed him enough that he could fall asleep was the swing. It had been weeks, possibly months, since Patrick had used it, so just the other day I moved it out of our living room into a lesser used room in the house. Matt and I are guessing Patrick noticed it was gone and missed it, crying until we brought it back out. It was totally worth the hassle.

We still don't know what caused the random fussy day. He had had plenty of sleep and still took longer naps than usual during the day. He wasn't refusing to eat, which might have signalled a tummy problem. His gums were unusually smooth, which indicates it wasn't teething pain. Matt and I did everything in our power to keep him from being bored, so that couldn't have been it. We went through every reason he had ever cried, and none of them could have possibly been the problem yesterday. I guess he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something.

Fortunately he is making up for yesterday today. He has been absolutely charming all day. He ate spinach for the first time for lunch and seemed to like it as much as Popeye does. Of course, Matt and I were a little surprised until we remembered he's the baby who forced us to go to Boston Market regularly while I was pregnant so we could get our spinach fix. After lunch, he and I had a laugh session. I had fun playing with him because everything I did was downright hilarious apparently. As frustrating as cry days can be, I think just a few minutes of that laugh can make me forget all about it.
Now you're laughing too, aren't you? See, I told you his laughter was contagious!

Long and Rambling...You've Been Warned

I don't have much to report today. Patrick's been something of a pooter-toot this morning (if you haven't heard the term, it's an affectionate way to describe someone being uncooperative and obnoxious). Almost since waking up, he has persisted in whining. He has a cross between "talking" and crying that is his way of expressing displeasure without crying. The more he makes this noise, the more it grates on my nerves. It reminds me of fingernails on a chalkboard, and after hearing only that whine for two hours, I'm about to lose my mind. So instead of continuing to complain about it and make myself more irritated, I'm going to write about something else.

It may just be hormones, but I've found myself more emotional in the last day or two, especially when I hear baby stories, primarily stories of preemie babies. The worst was yesterday when I was supposed to be napping. I was watching one of the many baby shows on during the day, and I ended up bawling through the couple's story of having a baby four weeks early and the baby's stay in the NICU. It brought back so many memories that I had let lie dormant for so long. I can easily live from day to day not ever thinking about how Patrick came into the world, but when I am reminded of that part of his life, the feelings can sometimes be overwhelming. More and more I'm realizing just how much this experience has changed me. I think it is going to have more long-lasting effects on my life than Patrick's. He's already passed so many milestones that turn him into a "normal" baby that I have a feeling by the time he turns one, very few people will guess he was a preemie. Even now, I don't see a preemie when I look at him.

Even when all the outward signs that he was a preemie have faded though, I will always remember. There's something about seeing your long-awaited baby lying so tiny and frail alone in an incubator that will permanently change you. While I don't see that image in my mind constantly, it will flash across Patrick's face when he starts to fall over while trying to sit up or doing something else potentially dangerous. Then I instinctively want to protect him from harm, as though he were still a mere three pounds and helpless. I fear his first illness or boo-boo; but I also fear I will end up too overprotective because of this fear and end up holding him back from growing into an independent boy like he should. I know many parents tend to be overprotective, but parents of preemies are especially prone to this problem. When do we stop telling two ages for our children: he'll be seven months on Sunday, which is five months adjusted age?

I constantly fight with myself about whether I want this whole prematurity thing to be a focus of my life or something I forget, just sweep under the rug. I'm sure there must be some happy medium, but I have yet to find it. It has without a doubt shaped both my life and Patrick's, making him special in just one more way, a true miracle. Because of that, I don't want to ignore it completely. I also don't want this experience to dictate every action and the way I treat him for his whole life. I don't want to justify anything about Patrick, blaming it on the prematurity, even though I know he will likely end up with some minor long-term issues because of it.

I also wonder sometimes if I find myself in this awkward position of wanting to both ignore and embrace the prematurity because I feel somewhat guilty about it. I have fully accepted the fact that this was not my fault and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. Yet I still replay certain parts of my pregnancy wondering if the outcome would have been different if I had done things differently. What if I'd taken prenatal vitamins more routinely, even though they made me sick? What if I'd not been so stupid that night before he was born and accepted that those really were contractions I was feeling? Would they have been able to stop the labor if I'd gotten to the hospital earlier? I have a million questions like this that I know will never be answered, and it's pointless to continue asking them, but sometimes I can't help myself. I know that if I get a second chance, I will do everything I can to do things differently and not let those same issues possibly lead to another premature birth. The last thing I want to do is go through those weeks visiting my newborn baby in the hospital again, even though statistics are not on my side. It is very likely that I will have another preemie, simply because Patrick was born early, regardless of what I do or don't do to try to prevent it. That's not something I want to think about now, but it is in the back of my mind all the time.

Ugh. I've rambled on for too long about the prematurity issue, and I still don't feel like I've really conveyed the thoughts and feelings going through my head. I'm afraid I haven't fully sorted them out myself. That's part of the reason I persist in bringing up the topic; I'm hoping that by forcing myself to think about it enough to type it, I will somehow work out the complexity and understand what it is I'm feeling. I also think that is the reason I'm attracted to websites and stories of other parents of preemies. Perhaps they will give me insight that I can't find on my own. At the very least, they can empathize with me (and me with them) because we've gone through the same thing. There is something even more bonding about parenting preemies than the typical bond of mothers. I suppose that is one of the good effects that has come from having a preemie. I have joined the ranks of mothers everywhere, even making it into that elite group of preemie moms. Becoming part of such universal groups bonds me to other women, providing friends and a support group that I wouldn't otherwise have. I hope I too can be a friend and support for all the new members joining our ranks daily.

As a reward for anyone who made it through that long and tedious post, here are a few more pictures of my special miracle.

Patrick's turning into quite the avid reader already (his mama loves that!). Here he is poring over his newest Dr. Seuss.
Yes, he is sitting up all by himself, and long enough for me to get a picture. He wasn't even leaning to one side yet by the time I had my hands back up to catch him.

This is my favorite picture of yesterday. It looks like he's glaring at the camera, but he was really grimacing some in the sunlight. This is the least squinty picture I got. I thought it was funny that he was wearing his bug outfit and playing in the grass. Someday not too long off, he'll be playing with bugs in the grass instead.