Baby Acne and Sweet Feet

Lydia is 4 weeks old today and man-oh-man is she broke out in some serious baby acne. Can someone remind me how long this phase lasts, because between her scratching her face to shreds and now breaking out- I'm not certain how long its going to be until I can take both girls to have their pictures done together.

I look at her face and wonder if I really looked that bad when pregnant with her and my face was pimply and crater like....

Still, even with the acne, I think she's cute as a button!

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We have finally found a bottle and nipple combination that is perfect for Lydia! And it's only taken from the time of her birth until this morning...

Background: At the hospital it was determined that Lydia was a dribbler. She has never spit up but boy does she dribble her milk all down her chin. A third to half of what we feed her ends up on her bib. We've changed nipples (wide, narrow, silicon, latex, slow flow, medium flow), changed bottles, changed how we hold her, changed everything we could think of and she still dribbles.

Today, I pulled out the NUK bottle we bought and tried when she was 5 days old. Back then she couldn't make a good latch onto the nipple. She'd hold it half way in her mouth (no matter how far we tried to cram it in) and every suck she'd take would be all over her face.

Now? She's a pro.

She latches, sucks, drinks and- most importantly- doesn't dribble. Not one drop.

We were regularly making her 4 ounce bottles, a good portion of which was waisted on her dribbling all over herself. Today, she hasn't ate more then 3 ounces. And that has only been once. We make her 4 ounces, she'll eat 2. Consistently. It's amazing how much formula that's been waisted. But no more.

Thanks NUK!

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Erica had asked a while back how Kyra was with Lydia. The answer to that is simple. She ADORES her little sister. She plays show and tell with all her toys, or Lydia's toys. She's the first one to run in to see why Lydia is whining, crying, fussing, talking, making any slight noise;Kyra is the first on scene to try and remedy the situation.

Kyra occasionally asks to hold Lydia, though not very often. She's asked once to feed her and was finished after 3 seconds of holding the bottle. She likes to read her books or sing her songs, frequently requests that Lydia dance with her and when making every one else a meal with her plastic food, she'll tell Lydia "You can't have any food, Lydia, because you don't have any teeth. But it's okay, Lydia, you'll be okay." I'm sure Lydia is quite reassured by this.

All in all, they couldn't be a better match. And I couldn't be any happier. Kyra doesn't try to smother her, hasn't been jealous, doesn't try to take over or direct the situation with Lydia... She just likes to be present and occasionally involved. And that... That simple gesture makes me very happy.

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Now, look at those sweet feet --------->

Don't you just want to tickle them?

Everything We Hoped For and Then Some

So. My initial excitement of fitting into a pair of size 10 pants was short lived. Today I tried to squeeze into another pair only to be disappointed when they wouldn't button. Apparently yesterday's pair were a larger version of 10.

Hmph.

In other news, if you were wondering where I was this past week, Jer and I ventured to the Artic Tundra of the North in search of a fancy new place to move into and damn if we didn't hit the the jackpot.

My new home, folks---->

We have upgraded from a 2 bedroom, 1000 square foot apartment in the city to a 5 bedroom, 2500 square foot HOUSE on an acre and a half of land. With only 2 neighbors. On one side of us resides a pair of snow birds (northern folk who travel down to Florida for the winter) and on the other side a vacant house that's soon to go into foreclosure. Our landlord told us he'll eventually buy that house and rent it to Navy people too... which means no neighbors there for a while! Across the street and behind us features woods that goes on for miles and miles and miles and miles and, it's a national forest back there. Faaab-u-louuus. I'm telling you, this location was destined for us.

Now, only to make sure Mother Nature gets on the ball with this whole snowing business. I mean, I like it, it's beautiful and all, just so long as it doesn't snow on days I need to be on the road. Cause let me tell you, Jer was ready to throw me out of the speeding car on Thursday because it was snowing while we were house hunting and I still haven't learned to keep my cool (or at the very least, panic quietly) while sitting in the passenger's seat.

And he thinks I'll get used to it. HA!

Thought I'd Let Ya'll Know...

My ass has been in a pair of size 10 jeans all day today. And there is room to spare.

HELL to the FUCK to the YEAH!

And Lydia is only 3 weeks and 3 days.

Operation get back into your skinny jeans is going fabulously well.

Life is good.

This Is How We Get Even For Those 2AM Feedings

The Awe of Motherhood

It has been tough posting around here lately. Mostly because Lydia has taken a severe liking to sleeping on my chest. All day. More often then not, with her head crammed in my neck.
And if, by chance, I can actually put her down for a solid 10 minutes, then I usually take 400,00 pictures of her at various angles while she sleeps.
Its probably no wonder she wants to sleep on my chest... if she does the bright flashes to the eyes are cut in half.

But, crap... is there really any way not to take a picture of something this damned precious?

It makes me yearn for Kyra's baby stage all over again. Life seems a whole lot more beautiful this go around without the immediate onset of post partum depression. I wish I could have experienced Kyra's first months with this much awe.

God bless my girls. I don't know how I ever lived life without them.

Now you'll have to excuse me, I'm being beckoned once again by the Half Pint... apparently my 10 minutes of freedom from carrying her in my arms are up.

Because I'm An Idiot Or Can I Still Blame It On Pregnancy?

After laughing at Jeremy for packing the diaper bag so full of stuff that it couldn't close, I repacked it with less stuff. It wasn't until Lydia and I were out in town with a girl friend that I noticed I had no diapers. Not-a-one.

Jeremy over packs. I under pack. Less isn't always more.

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Monday I begged Jeremy to buy me a few new-to-me pairs of pants from the thrift store. I can't stand wearing maternity pants. Didn't like it while I was pregnant. The good news is I fit into a size 12! Much better then the size 16s I bought 3 1/2 weeks after Kyra was born. Anyhow, upon donning my new pants the first day I couldn't figure out why I couldn't pull the suckers down from my waist. It took me a minute to figure out these pants didn't have adjustable, elastic waistbands.

Apparently I've been wearing too much elastic these last few months.

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This afternoon Jer came home from work to a wife about to scratch large gaping holes into her abdomen because the healing incision itched like crazy. He brought me two Benadryl tablets. The only other time I've ever had Benadryl (to my knowledge) was this last stay in the hospital to combat the itching that resulted as a side effect from the spinal medication. Every time they injected the Benadryl into my IV, I was out cold within a half hour. No different today. But I seemed to have forgotten the effect this simple medication has on me.

While feeding Lydia on the couch, Jer came over to check on us only to find me fast asleep with a bottle still shoved in Lydia's mouth.

Guess I'm not taking any Benadryl to ward off the itching and scratching unless Jeremy is home.

Family Resemblance?

Both photos were taken tonight. Who knew blood runs thick even when it comes with sleeping positions...

Recovery- Going Swell

Hey guys! I am feeling much, much better today and can actually sit in one position long enough to post. Though it has taken me most of the afternoon to recover from church alone. Damn Catholic services with their standing and sitting and standing and sitting and standing and kneeling and... you get the drift, right? They totally didn't make these rituals with surgery patients in mind.

Wanna know the cutest thing Kyra said at church today? According to her, when taking the Eucharist we are eating Jesus' bottom. Yep, his ass. Only a 3 year old can get away with thinking something like that. Though it did make me think twice when opening my mouth to accept the rump of the Holy Dude.

As far as Lydia is concerned, she's doing swell. She eats like a little bird and now Jeremy is obsessing over it. Kyra came home from the hospital eating 3-4 ounces on a regular basis. Lydia is doing swell just to finish an ounce and a half. We jump for joy when an entire 2 ounces is consumed. Jeremy thinks she's withering away and is going to starve to death in the matter of hours. He's a good daddy, no questioning his love for our girls.

In other Lydia news, she has no butt. Like, her back flows strait on down to meet her teeny tiny chicken thighs. When we were in the hospital, they only provided size 1 diapers. Every time we lifted Lydia up unswaddled her diaper would fall off. When we came home, we had a full stock of new born size diapers. They, too, tended to fall off. Though, not to her ankles like the 1's, but her butt was certainly hanging out for the world to see. Today I finally talked Jer into getting a small pack of preemie diapers. Guess what.... they fit! Supposedly they're for up to 6lb babies.... I guess Lydia's lack of an ass measures up to a preemie's behind.

Finally, I downloaded these videos because I thought they were super cute and why not show you how hilarious and funny my child can be.

This was Kyra the day before my surgery:

We were prepping her to stay at her BFF's house for the day without Mommy and Daddy. Somehow this led to her writing them imaginary letters.

This is what happens when your 3 year old thinks an hours old newborn can choose or be coerced when to wake up and hold a conversation:


Okay, well, I'm going back to lay down again. This whole recovering from having your gut cut open is some serious business. Can't be taken lightly. And besides that, if Jer catches me in here typing away he might just decide I've recovered enough I can start planning and making the meals, and, well, it's just been nice to be served breakfast, lunch and supper in bed. Who would want to willingly give that up? I've got a good husband on my hands, even if, on occation, he likes to shove his head up his own ass, overall, I wouldn't trade him in for any other.

Home Sweet Home

Mom and baby are home, both are doing well.
Now I live in a house full of women.
Someone pray for my sanity.
~Jeremy