tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79742734534053721232023-11-16T08:30:43.025-08:00 Simple ThoughtsCarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-23694227623775131272013-07-19T23:49:00.001-07:002013-07-20T12:52:34.884-07:00Hi.8.Us.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wow, it's been a while.</div>
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I checked the calendar and figured out that we've been home something like 6 out of the last 30 days!</div>
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We've been all over the freakin' place.<br>
Let's catch up in photos, shall weee?</div>
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Baby girl was baptized with her cousins and our friends at the end of May!</div>
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We made some paper garlands to welcome summer on the cheap</div>
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I was feeling crappy, so I did a 3 day juice cleanse that totally rocked! <br>
(You eat through it too, so totally breastfeeding kosher.) </div>
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Totally. </div>
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We spent <strike>five minutes</strike> a whole morning(!) making matching t-shirt turban headbands.<br>
It killed <strike>five minutes</strike> a morning of boredom and she looked pretty cute.<br>
P.S. it only took five minutes.</div>
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We went to Santa Monica beach to watch my brothers play on the same team</div>
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in a beach soccer tournament.<br>
I spent a day wishing I could play in a beach soccer tournament.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colby</td></tr>
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And we experienced a whole new level of cute when my chilly bug borrowed her Amma's flannel.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunnies on while chilling with Papa. Later she stole his fancy hat.</td></tr>
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Road trip! We hit the road to South Lake Tahoe for ladies weekend with my mom and sisters.<br>
Scarlett was amazing on the way there. She loves her new car seat. The drive back, however, my sister and I may or may not have stopped for a booze break when our babies took turns screaming the whole way home. #classymoms<br>
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We spent lots of time with this Minnesota angel face and his mama before he becomes a big brother!<br>
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Scarlett and sweet cousin Thomas discovered each other.<br>
I died from the cuteness.<br>
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We celebrated 4th of July without Eric :( </div>
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He had the day off but got called into work.<br>
So me and this firecracker spent the day at a BBQ with our family and friends.<br>
It was such a blasty blast!<br>
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We ended up driving home the night of the 4th at 9:30 (Ew.) because we decided that in two days we would hit the road again to Arizona. Totally last minute but we pulled it off! Our first day there was my and Eric's second wedding anniversary. Awwwww! We spent the day in the town we love, the place we started our life together, Flagstaff.<br>
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Happy anniversary to us! And look--Scarlett was there too :) </div>
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Snoozing away on Eric's back. </div>
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This was her first backpack adventure in the Ergo!</div>
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Clearly, a fan.<br>
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Flagstaff is a little slice of foodie heaven and
we ate at all of our favorite places. Too much goodness. Hiking,
delectable eats, sleeping in, snapping away to my shutterfly heart's
delight--<br>
best time ever.<br>
Unfortunately, our anniversary wasn't the main reason we were there. I wish it was.<br>
The
next two days we spent in Prescott to attend the memorial services of
the fallen Granite Mountain Hotshots. Talk about an emotional
rollercoaster of a week. It was heartbreaking, humbling, you name it.
Many tears as we went to pay our respects.</div>
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We spent some time in the town of Prescott as well. We had Scarlett in
the stroller to avoid the intermittent rain, so I had my hands free and
was snapping away with my beloved Canon. A man tracked us down and
offered to take a family picture for us. He was a photographer in town
to cover the memorial and he said he was impressed to see us with an
actual camera and not just a phone. I thought it was pretty funny, but I
was definitely grateful to have a shot of the three of us :)</div>
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So there you have it. 'Round the <strike>state and southwest</strike> world and home again. I'll try to update with more, uh, words tomorrow! But that's where we've been. The nomads are home again and it feels good to be sleeping in our bed!</div>
CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-15744151717974737462013-05-28T21:44:00.001-07:002013-05-29T09:48:57.019-07:00It's like this<div style="text-align: center;">
I am a stay-at-home mom.</div>
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Every month, I'm still paying off my student loan.</div>
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Every month, I'm a little more okay with that.</div>
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More often than not, I look like this^ A far cry from the every day dress up of salon life.</div>
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Today I made the bed and did two loads of laundry before 11am and I feel like a rock star.</div>
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I change out of my pajamas into clean yoga pants. Getting dressed, like a boss.</div>
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Clean is a relative term. (A little spit up never hurt anyone, right?)</div>
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My baby screamed at me for almost two hours this morning, and she still looked cute to me.</div>
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I'm a stay-at-home mom, my baby is finally napping, but I'm not because this might be the only hour I get to myself all day.</div>
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This might be the only hour I get to myself all day, and I just creeped on my baby in her crib because I miss her quite terribly.</div>
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I slept maybe 5 hours last night. Considering that my baby gave up sleeping through the night, that's effing awesome.</div>
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That last statement was not a sarcastic.</div>
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After cleaning out my closet, my wardrobe is almost exclusively tops that I can easily unbutton or lift up at a moment's notice.--Get your mind out of the gutter, I'm feeding my kid.</div>
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I'm a stay-at-home mom, my workouts consist of squats and bench pressing my baby. She quite enjoys it.</div>
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If you ask what I do all day, I will punch you in the throat...or employ very strong rhetoric.<br />
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The amount of stuff I can accomplish with a baby strapped to my chest is mind blowing. <br />
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I have full conversations with <strike>myself</strike> my baby.</div>
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I have been known to occasionally spend my daughter's entire nap time straightening my hair, because I may be at home all day, but damn it, I want to look pretty. It's the little things, people.</div>
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At this point, I can recite Green Eggs and Ham from memory.</div>
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When my nails are painted, I inexplicably feel like I have my shit together.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjgXwvKlOCVJiqR8sNq9sHqGeAIC45rBMGPq-rP3Lgb4G8rlwUXVgvaQZE5AleECrbB7fZPAgVkhspOOE6wxmOJH6iQB9E7JaWFMLy2w1zDjS1V7DmHv_DrEH64hZqw8hqodDd4voEarF/s640/blogger-image--904662388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjgXwvKlOCVJiqR8sNq9sHqGeAIC45rBMGPq-rP3Lgb4G8rlwUXVgvaQZE5AleECrbB7fZPAgVkhspOOE6wxmOJH6iQB9E7JaWFMLy2w1zDjS1V7DmHv_DrEH64hZqw8hqodDd4voEarF/s640/blogger-image--904662388.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am a stay-at-home mom, I narrate my activities and speak through stuffed animals.<br />
<br />
I'm pretty sure my baby knows what time Kelly and Michael starts.<br />
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If I get out of the house by myself, I don't know whether to skip or panic.<br />
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I can hear a baby squeak through a closed door, music, and open windows with a washing machine, dryer, and dishwasher running at the same time. Basically, I'm a superhero.<br />
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My Instagram is a parade of baby pictures. <br />
<br />
I hate Mondays because it means the maintenance crew outside the bedroom window is going to screw up my baby's morning nap with their lawnmowers and leaf blowers.<br />
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My husband makes fun of me because as soon as I put Scarlett down for the night, I immediately open my phone and go through old videos and pictures of her.<br />
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Occasionally there are days when I feel like I'm slowly going crazy. <i>Everyday, </i>I am so thankful that my husband works so hard so I can stay home with our girl.<br />
<br />
I'm a stay-at-home mom--<br />
It's a love-hate relationship and love wins pretty much every time.<br />
It's kicking my ass. Daily.<br />
I'm happy.<br />
I'm a stay-at-home mom, hear me yawn. <br />
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CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-20370549270702083962013-05-16T11:20:00.002-07:002013-05-16T11:20:17.718-07:00My girl who loves treesI have a new favorite thing.<br />
Make that two.<br />
One: We've been calling Scarlett "Shrimp" since...forever. So this shirt was an absolute must have.<br />
<br />
Two: Going outside, laying a blanket down under the base of a tree and parking it there to enjoy the view. Baby girl loves looking at trees, which got me to thinking, she would probably love the view looking up at one. Best idea ever. She flipped. In a good way. Lots of happy flailing and faces like this:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfceR0Ob36dLx09XB9PvKfWeYXAWfxGpjI89Lio1csLuEnFrRrrPvnjnforFQ_W6KfaJTlto7RxfNX-s_ONEoLidusi4mZW9DXqA2iJZ23lQESgyUkjxt_gyTjzMqrf1GFfUmYPBztvIZA/s1600/2013-05-16+trees!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfceR0Ob36dLx09XB9PvKfWeYXAWfxGpjI89Lio1csLuEnFrRrrPvnjnforFQ_W6KfaJTlto7RxfNX-s_ONEoLidusi4mZW9DXqA2iJZ23lQESgyUkjxt_gyTjzMqrf1GFfUmYPBztvIZA/s640/2013-05-16+trees!.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have I mentioned how much I love this kid?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Having a kid makes the smallest things so magical. It was giggles and happy toes for days!
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgup8TGgD4VfqxdxQZJofK4EOLJNSTw4OF7l9piEjxLAQf1NjiiRoo1NbDLGcbdVnHHBbXA8WDHJa1nCUxOLfZqNvPuE9TA2G9qiNezV67EkA6wqwuB5R-OALKKEF4LGuKF5dAcfu0JDr07/s1600/2013-05-16+trees!1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgup8TGgD4VfqxdxQZJofK4EOLJNSTw4OF7l9piEjxLAQf1NjiiRoo1NbDLGcbdVnHHBbXA8WDHJa1nCUxOLfZqNvPuE9TA2G9qiNezV67EkA6wqwuB5R-OALKKEF4LGuKF5dAcfu0JDr07/s640/2013-05-16+trees!1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was actually my trademark move as a babe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I quite enjoyed the view myself! It was oh so relaxing.
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfDo7CkuXlduxwSRl1XYK1icxUbvSmGyef5_Uj9hdT0P29vjIUhcQ0HQrm-wnuXZOqig1nxHCKIcRwD9KJ797IckmEA0dLo5kQnR2srys6ybRHxadIKXjHNZj81cyvRhdGlEbJLjYLfOx/s1600/2013-05-16+trees!2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfDo7CkuXlduxwSRl1XYK1icxUbvSmGyef5_Uj9hdT0P29vjIUhcQ0HQrm-wnuXZOqig1nxHCKIcRwD9KJ797IckmEA0dLo5kQnR2srys6ybRHxadIKXjHNZj81cyvRhdGlEbJLjYLfOx/s640/2013-05-16+trees!2.jpg" width="640" /></a> </div>
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Best new activity ever? I think so. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJyPTdZkrHPAyiIvK64BDKVjSX8f17N4Kqp-beBik5UuW5-56euBTpVCUDx7pkgTEXdTXVE_ojVkN0fw7g6_IHwwzF9u-EP9jdYhJlp890IYqGd1_HXdS-YTAIdFtnckgxjbadp6PWNvz/s1600/2013-05-16+trees!3.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJyPTdZkrHPAyiIvK64BDKVjSX8f17N4Kqp-beBik5UuW5-56euBTpVCUDx7pkgTEXdTXVE_ojVkN0fw7g6_IHwwzF9u-EP9jdYhJlp890IYqGd1_HXdS-YTAIdFtnckgxjbadp6PWNvz/s640/2013-05-16+trees!3.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRuK_ouC4zCu1a1Il3Cjn8xNz4JHijYfO7Rll7ZDYU5cC57RYZZJOKsVBFxPpD94RTvV2NNept21CWdjGbVdIbfnTmmY4SdnaeARwrieix3DkkTOjuV9rzWY1ZBXX05ILfOov8OGoWfwq/s1600/2013-05-16+trees!4.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRuK_ouC4zCu1a1Il3Cjn8xNz4JHijYfO7Rll7ZDYU5cC57RYZZJOKsVBFxPpD94RTvV2NNept21CWdjGbVdIbfnTmmY4SdnaeARwrieix3DkkTOjuV9rzWY1ZBXX05ILfOov8OGoWfwq/s640/2013-05-16+trees!4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-44838262440034971512013-05-07T13:01:00.000-07:002013-05-07T13:01:48.678-07:00Summer Lists<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7Lk86-mvkJh6gk64DznWb2RwS8mePKELsJARGmb1piiIJszEin-lZC3lP7-9gZn9ami3oLZDzSLAcKiHb9M1sHLhk8SZO4aMHQaS-EjzwdrpN3fDNUogfEEPlMuPud71EZdy1UjkN6_U/s1600/CF1FA358-6B20-444F-A415-825A0786FF5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7Lk86-mvkJh6gk64DznWb2RwS8mePKELsJARGmb1piiIJszEin-lZC3lP7-9gZn9ami3oLZDzSLAcKiHb9M1sHLhk8SZO4aMHQaS-EjzwdrpN3fDNUogfEEPlMuPud71EZdy1UjkN6_U/s320/CF1FA358-6B20-444F-A415-825A0786FF5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite list making notebook!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In high school, my best friend and I started a tradition--the summer list!<br />
The last days of school we'd bust out some notebook paper and scribble down a list of summer goodness: restaurants we wanted to try, concerts we'd kill to go to, books to read, places to go--the plan for the perfect summer. Sadly, I skipped out on making a list last summer. I was in my first trimester (read: feeling like crap and constantly looking like I just ate a burrito) and hubby and I were working opposite hours, soooo we didn't really have summer plans beyond my solo trip to Minnesota.<br />
<br />
This year though, I am determined to make this the most awesome, fun-tastic summer two people with a baby ever had. Eric and I decided that this would be "The Summer of Activity."<br />
I want to be outdoors as much as possible, get awkward sun tans, take Scarlett to a forest (I think she'd lose it with excitement. Girl loves trees.), and try new things! I made Eric sit down and make a summer list with me and so far, this is what we've got:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Summer 2013</i><br />
Swim, Hike, Walks--get outdoors! get exercise, get a funky tan, get some air<br />
Cook at least one new recipe a week, be it a whole meal or a dessert (I've been in a cooking rut, so this is a big one and so far I've been rocking it! Gracias, <a href="http://pinterest.com/sweetcarolyn4/foods-ending-in-amburger/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>!)<br />
Camping<br />Get to the lake. <i>Often.</i><br />
Head up north and take Scarlett to see the sequoias<br />
At least one overnight at the beach<br />
Spend some downtime at the library with my little bookworm<br />
Read a book together ( book still TBD. Suggestions??)<br />
Hit some outdoor concerts<br />
Make the perfect mojito<br />
Try a few local restaurants--these days if we go out, it's all about ease and efficiency, so we usually just hit up chains that we already know we like. It's time to expand!<br />
Spend some quality time at the farmer's market and u-pick farms<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />That's what we've got for now, and hopefully we'll be adding more to it in the coming weeks. I'm loving getting a jump start on summer and I'm pretty sure that this one is going to be bommmbbb-tacular :) Suggestions to add, anyone??</div>
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CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-91150111020783815042013-05-04T12:03:00.000-07:002013-05-04T12:03:33.864-07:00Take me back to the seaOhhh what a week. My brain is so fried that I don't even know where to start!<br />
Since this week has been the official 12 week <strike>shitshow</strike> growth spurt (last week was just a "coming soon!" teaser. Not cool.), I'd like to harken back to happier times. Times when my baby was still sleeping and happy. And we went to the beach!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0A6xf1Dak13WJ1mVW4KtDPiSRXiBKwP6cfQmaEc4q9ZJz9KzK92YvGN1iNlqLoKUSVZGvxA5CZSZ4bLzo7AacT6yKYFhZzbOvAMYuQsHXjI3uWlbNkmiT6PFGDta64VkoTkQbXsobemGy/s1600/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0A6xf1Dak13WJ1mVW4KtDPiSRXiBKwP6cfQmaEc4q9ZJz9KzK92YvGN1iNlqLoKUSVZGvxA5CZSZ4bLzo7AacT6yKYFhZzbOvAMYuQsHXjI3uWlbNkmiT6PFGDta64VkoTkQbXsobemGy/s400/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+084.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It started out cloudy and gloom-tastic, so we were long-sleeved up for the weather. Buuutttt the sun did not fail us and soon I was busting out the bathing suits. Yes--suits. Not plural as in "mine" and "hers." Her <i>suits</i>. Judge away (Scarlett definitely did). I've been waiting months for this moment and I needed beach pictures of both glorious get-ups. Tell me I was wrong, I dare you:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_Fk0ZAvGRBuvheorsMYUHcjRxKYtC-Rr0VKHcKXpaqAeBRR0w28kxvFcQYYst1i2K-VKJJkoZlfwz66lEVyF42cN8vvavt-63fguQTvVZPuLTk45wOpImn0QprQdI65OI-8YuKjZXvHw/s1600/2013-04-27+hiddingvisit.beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_Fk0ZAvGRBuvheorsMYUHcjRxKYtC-Rr0VKHcKXpaqAeBRR0w28kxvFcQYYst1i2K-VKJJkoZlfwz66lEVyF42cN8vvavt-63fguQTvVZPuLTk45wOpImn0QprQdI65OI-8YuKjZXvHw/s640/2013-04-27+hiddingvisit.beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Middle picture all I can hear is "An outfit change? Seriously, Mom?"</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSy7GAUOiygt_DXlps5HZuQv8jx3IkfCU_rGnmhjSUPagUJzOfiRyiPrYcHEsKC9A1B7afyFh9Ka4-dtdr_ie09jnjSiKtWd0NKkDLKbqsHNOhdZf2Ye2amhVWORzPFoxf2UejWw8F_wE/s1600/2013-04-27+hiddingvisit.beach1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSy7GAUOiygt_DXlps5HZuQv8jx3IkfCU_rGnmhjSUPagUJzOfiRyiPrYcHEsKC9A1B7afyFh9Ka4-dtdr_ie09jnjSiKtWd0NKkDLKbqsHNOhdZf2Ye2amhVWORzPFoxf2UejWw8F_wE/s640/2013-04-27+hiddingvisit.beach1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Gotta love that ocean air! Scarlett wasn't too sure about actually having her feet in the water, but she definitely liked the sound of the waves. It made for a nice, cozy nap time once she was good and over the beach, and over it, she was:<br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I am </i>sooo <i>over this, guys! Dad, let's get our nap on."</i></td></tr>
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Oh to go back. It's already calling my name. Actually it was calling my name around 1am when baby girl went on a sleep strike. What does she want? Food and play time. When does she want it? Right. Friggin. Now. and every 2 hours from 1am- 10am.<br />Excuse me while I go hold sea shells over my ears and dream of a happy place.CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-84345894755623459352013-04-28T21:14:00.000-07:002013-04-28T21:14:33.220-07:00I love this kidAaaaand we're back (said like this):<br />
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Where to begin?<br />
Scarlett will be 12 weeks old on Tuesday but it's insane how much older she feels. She's so chatty and enjoys trying to stand (on our hands) and trying to sit up. Crazy kid. I swear, in the last week she has grown up so much! She's even more alert than before, if that's possible, and she's just a smiley ball of fun and sunshine. Today she sat on my lap while we had Dr. Seuss palooza and she actually sat and listened and liked it. I couldn't get her to do that just 2 weeks ago. Le sigh. (And now I can't get "Gox box socks" out of my head.) I'd be seriously depressed if this phase wasn't so much fun!<br />
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So we just got back from spending 10 lovely days visiting my family. My sister was in town from Minnesota with her little man and it was a great time filled with baby squeals and Tangled.<br />
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While we were in town, we went to the most fantastical, magical baby consignment sale you ever did see. It was a warehouse crammed with all things baby and if I didn't have an extremely unhappy baby looming over me, I probably would've done some serious damage. But I was on a time crunch and went in on a serious mission for an Exersaucer. I am happy to say that I scored a nice one for 40 bucks and it is officially Scarlett Approved:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45tMayNiJ8bLk5N_D7HGtjRRS6NIsxbqYj18A8mkrn3mF_E2PfDAu5AOoiOfSJ3TBVtWmSSd6QEiQsPcp3fDPetxaJgNzSZs9gzJn6G8_vsmT0Vc4Q-o1TzOjzU3u43NB0lDbK5yDKa2v/s1600/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45tMayNiJ8bLk5N_D7HGtjRRS6NIsxbqYj18A8mkrn3mF_E2PfDAu5AOoiOfSJ3TBVtWmSSd6QEiQsPcp3fDPetxaJgNzSZs9gzJn6G8_vsmT0Vc4Q-o1TzOjzU3u43NB0lDbK5yDKa2v/s640/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I don't know about this thing, Mama!"</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlt1sDCgdX4PxYwAPQIXvjrLACvGDLnmfoTCu4XDlr5vci1W3FlUNNHPDX3Pgmw-ojaOlfunROC8dgc4eyGeYTw4PXY20_J3hyC5PM_WTfH-Ttsg7cWJQ-h5oqz9OMRnSgLnUBdXnxRVl/s1600/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlt1sDCgdX4PxYwAPQIXvjrLACvGDLnmfoTCu4XDlr5vci1W3FlUNNHPDX3Pgmw-ojaOlfunROC8dgc4eyGeYTw4PXY20_J3hyC5PM_WTfH-Ttsg7cWJQ-h5oqz9OMRnSgLnUBdXnxRVl/s640/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+142.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Oooo is that a butterfly?!"</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxZoVuPEHop_5g60zEwgaZ7puLG4ug6btB9EP79cNIGwGc32_F63riahIf3icMR1rueEbFESzUR0qbQr6JtalffGqaamYZhp5gyw0QfeiZxuUmaiwMfPLuCi0vdpq_LlaY3flsnaB2wYO/s1600/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxZoVuPEHop_5g60zEwgaZ7puLG4ug6btB9EP79cNIGwGc32_F63riahIf3icMR1rueEbFESzUR0qbQr6JtalffGqaamYZhp5gyw0QfeiZxuUmaiwMfPLuCi0vdpq_LlaY3flsnaB2wYO/s640/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+143.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"It is! That's a butterfly!"</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYml6anC1WgXcFostzm6FmvwMalsJj45OjLd4fsEa-MBbZfejXr27KtF1ni0IxG7al34jWe138a4r0RwgW5nvLUIeQHDyM58Syxjk7dmgsPqnvu70KUAsR9vop1KyXhym630hJswkYpxok/s1600/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYml6anC1WgXcFostzm6FmvwMalsJj45OjLd4fsEa-MBbZfejXr27KtF1ni0IxG7al34jWe138a4r0RwgW5nvLUIeQHDyM58Syxjk7dmgsPqnvu70KUAsR9vop1KyXhym630hJswkYpxok/s640/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+144.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Helloooo, little butterfly!"</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><strike><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOW3rT0OYp7_sNBk3uD-x7I36-aZqdFPFoDuFDuvy2gSSJOnElM5A2tskZL86-Y60sC-e8lFHYOP3O17JXw9hZSj58aTaoL3fK4crk-QQwWOExdosfWJtTlrQiwdoLIvKkVQdAx_0SeXR/s1600/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOW3rT0OYp7_sNBk3uD-x7I36-aZqdFPFoDuFDuvy2gSSJOnElM5A2tskZL86-Y60sC-e8lFHYOP3O17JXw9hZSj58aTaoL3fK4crk-QQwWOExdosfWJtTlrQiwdoLIvKkVQdAx_0SeXR/s640/hiddingvisit.beach.prom+145.JPG" width="640" /></a></strike></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Silly butterfly!"</i><strike><br /></strike></td></tr>
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What's that? Oh, just the sound of my heart melting to the floor. I'm sooo obsessed with these pictures, it's ridiculous. I want them framed. In every room in my house. Yes, I am absolutely that mom who's totally all about her own kid's cuteness. I happily admit it. Because come on, that is one freakin' cute kid.<br />More on our trip (and the beach!) soon!<br />CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-78840113080882727332013-04-25T22:29:00.000-07:002013-04-25T22:29:51.944-07:00Pssst! It's me!Dearest readers (of whom I like to think I have and appreciate greatly!),<br />We've been on hiatus over here, visiting family and getting weird sun burns (For serious, who burns a stripe on to their forehead? Certainly not me). We'll be wrapping up our 10ish(I think?) day visit this weekend. I have oodles to share when we get back including munchkin's first trip to the beach! *Spoiler alert--wardrobe changes were involved. Don't judge.<br />So if you're a sucker for adorable beach bum baby pictures and tales of unbelievable sales, stick around :)<br /><br />--the person in charge around here<br />....who still can't believe she's in charge of a mini person<br />(Seriously, who decided that was ok?)CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-26600659817054216912013-04-16T22:12:00.001-07:002013-04-18T18:03:32.831-07:00Boiling duckies and assorted good(and not so good)nessOkay, good stuff first--so much exciting stuff going on this week!<br />
April 16th--in addition to being my favorite Minnesota man's <i>FIRST</i> birthday (Happy birthday, Charlie Doodlebug!), today my nugget is precisely 10 weeks old. <b><i>10 weeks!!!</i></b> It's crazy, she seems so much older. My chub-a-lub is always alert and checking out the world, whipping around her crazy strong neck, trying not to miss a thing. If I put my palm under her little feets when I'm holding her, she stands herself up and gives me a "Hey mama, get a load of this!!" face. I die. And I need to get pictures of all these fancy tricks! She has discovered the mirror and she loves checking herself out. This past week we spent a lot of time at my sister's house (she was busy rocking a home birth, bringing my new little nephew into the world. Nah bigs.). She has mirror closet doors in her bedroom and Scarlett could not get enough of them. I think she was a little disappointed when we came home to our much less mirrored apartment. Sorry, baby girl. Since we've been back home the weather has been glorious, so afternoon walks have definitely been in order! Scarlett loves to look at trees so our walks usually involve me splitting time between narrating the trees and cracking up at her reactions. *Sigh* so. much. cute.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL51aUfdR68VOQmXD0G8xQT-HnOwPsDIjPo4reC95Ezm9K5EoJLyMVGOJtlpqWqXfDs6Da8_x2cTYVzdYoIFSXACH2R_TPve7JvEz8aBrYkPvxXm98YdLtTX83tSloE5sN4qNVaviMK8-q/s1600/April13+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL51aUfdR68VOQmXD0G8xQT-HnOwPsDIjPo4reC95Ezm9K5EoJLyMVGOJtlpqWqXfDs6Da8_x2cTYVzdYoIFSXACH2R_TPve7JvEz8aBrYkPvxXm98YdLtTX83tSloE5sN4qNVaviMK8-q/s640/April13+017.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my adorable <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/littlehipsqueaks" target="_blank">Little Hip Squeak</a>!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the focus is waaay off (still figuring out my fancy camera) but come on, could she be more cute?!</td></tr>
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Now, maaaaajor buzzkill (*salute* Major Buzzkill), we are in the middle of a trifecta of misery. A shitstorm, if you will. As I wrote before, thrush has reared it's ugly head, once again. It's hard to believe that we've been fighting this for almost 8 f-ing weeks now, 6 weeks officially diagnosed. Pretty much her whole little life. EW. My sister's lovely midwife took some time to talk to us about it and her opinion was that one or both of us is dealing with a systemic condition. Aaaand I'm inclined to agree after doing more research. So basically, I'm on an intense diet and probiotic regimen for the next six weeks that requires me to basically go full-on Paleo. What. Le. Fuck? How the hell does a former vegan do a <i>complete</i> 180 and go Paleo? I guess like this: no carbs, no sugar (including fruit. I might go crazy.), no dairy except plain yogurt, no starchy vegetables. I'd say I need a drink, but those are out of the question too. It's scrambled eggs, salad & veggies, lean meats and tuna on bell peppers for days. And water and green tea like crazy. <strike>Ef that shit</strike> This should be fun..?<br />
<br />
Fun stuff, for reals (sorta): Scarlett loves her little <a href="http://www.amazon.com/WubbaNub-WN21195-Yellow-Duck/dp/B001F43JTO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366174201&sr=8-1&keywords=wubbanub+duck" target="_blank">Wubbanub ducky</a>. (Mr. Ducky to us. We're super creative with toy names around here.) Anyways, I realllly needed to<strike> blow torch the hell out of the thing til all the thrush on it died</strike> boil it, but I couldn't figure out how to do it with out destroying the duck part.<br />
That is, until I actually pulled out the pot:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpc1YVHr0prrosikLnvm4NnEH4ltOoMuwPS5CoP8VcPz1TChKQlP1RflLKCwAnon66uij0E13FxtVsRftNc-yeX-H9BgDUjAdtOj3xaapfA4uZwCYek-ZnUX7eX-BWTx309PQp0LZjPIHS/s1600/April13+049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpc1YVHr0prrosikLnvm4NnEH4ltOoMuwPS5CoP8VcPz1TChKQlP1RflLKCwAnon66uij0E13FxtVsRftNc-yeX-H9BgDUjAdtOj3xaapfA4uZwCYek-ZnUX7eX-BWTx309PQp0LZjPIHS/s640/April13+049.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hehehe clever</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">just hanging out to dry</td></tr>
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This had me and Eric quite entertained last night<br />
<br />
But wait, there's more! I said TRIfecta, people.<br />
In addition to thrush, we haaaaave.....teething.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-v0ZW-1pSjGGt_-WsgPQhL9X3p4NyobZS3qTCVap4IwORjlbQ15IIn3eI1-uaPsHiKSbb4z8sXAVu4ShNtGjSXmsnwMm-AnpybomUjulcKD9YAW-s6Fugs5MWVEM1jKDXLMhTAJqXoLf/s1600/minion.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-v0ZW-1pSjGGt_-WsgPQhL9X3p4NyobZS3qTCVap4IwORjlbQ15IIn3eI1-uaPsHiKSbb4z8sXAVu4ShNtGjSXmsnwMm-AnpybomUjulcKD9YAW-s6Fugs5MWVEM1jKDXLMhTAJqXoLf/s400/minion.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
I know, right? In my perfect little world, a 10 week old has NO business teething, but apparently, my 10 week old does.<br />
Scarlett has some chompers coming in and I hate what they're doing to her--grumps galore, fussy from the pain and refusing to nap for more than 15 minutes. My poor baby is so tired and just cannot catch a break.<br />
<br />
And, just for funsies, we have (I'm pretty sure) a growth spurt that decided to show up early.<br />
Thrush. Teething. Growth Spurt. Why?<br />
So basically, my baby's mouth is raging, but all she wants to do is eat for ages at a time. It's making her soooo tired but all the discomfort is keeping her awake.<br />
<br />
In 6 weeks, there is a shot of tequila with my name on it.<br />
Grumpy, uncomfortable, poor baby.<br />
Frazzled, sleepy,<i> hungry</i> mommy.<br />
Check, please.<br />
Hoping the rest of the week is kinder to my sweet babe!CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-65392098278805094092013-04-11T09:08:00.003-07:002013-04-11T09:08:53.560-07:00Why yesterday sucked and yesterday was awesome.<br />So yesterday started out nah-so-hot. Baby girl woke up at 4. Okay, different from our usual 5, but no big deal. Then she looked at me with a look that said, "Hey mama, guess what? I don't want to sleep this morning!" Ugh. After fruitlessly trying to get this nugget back to sleep, I gave up around 5:45, flipped on the lights and grabbed the rattle for some playtime. After fussing for an hour, her little face lit up into a huge gummy smile. How can you be mad when you have big ol' eyes smiling at you saying, "Oh thank you, mama! I just want to play!" So what started out crappy got cute pretty fast.<br /><br />Once Eric woke up, I handed her off to make breakfast. I was talking to him from the kitchen when we realized she was following our whole conversation like a ping pong match. Seriously, hilarious! We tried to keep talking, but we couldn't stop laughing.<br /><br />Throughout the day, Miss Thing decided she was also anti-nap. Her little routine she usually falls into is something like: up for the day between 7:30 and 9, 45 minute cat nap an hour and a half after waking up, play for 2 hours, looooong afternoon nap (like, 3, sometimes 4 hours), cat nap, bed. Nothing doin'. It was 30 minute cat naps all the way. Basically as soon as I thought she was good and asleep, I'd put her down and *BING* wide awake. Needless to say, not much got done around the apartment.<br />
<br />Then, fit hit the shan again--guess who's back? (back again)<br />Thrush. Ew. We've been clear for over a week! Almost two! Nope. It's back and all over my baby's upper lip. Soooooo basically, Smurf mouth has made a comeback.<br />
<br />
Later on we took a walk and Eric was telling me a story about work. Scarlett was chilling in the Ergo, hanging on his every word. Like, eyes bugging out (even more than usual), glued to his face with a "What happens next, Daddy?!!!" face. Again, we tried to keep talking but we couldn't stop laughing. This kid is just so adorably nosy!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These eyes! I melt.</td></tr>
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<br />
But then it was bath time, and Scarlett has figured out....the splash! Oh yeah, it's cuteness overload! She gets so excited and froggy kicks a frenzy. Sure, Mama was soaked afterwards, but it was totally worth it. I love watching her figure out her likes and dislikes, and bath time is a big, fat LIKE.<br /><br />So yeah, add all this in with a great 2 month check up the day before (officially 12lbs. and 24 freakin inches long! 90th and 95th percentiles, respectively. Yeeeaaahhh buddy.) We had a pretty happy crummy day.CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-50943542756581024262013-04-07T15:04:00.002-07:002013-04-07T15:46:33.334-07:00You wanna do something fun?I had a baby.<br />
My body looks like I had a baby.<br />
It's funny, I thought that fact would be a bit more....traumatic. Before this babe, I always had (everybody's favorite) that extra five-ish pounds to lose. Legitimately, not in a Regina George "I really wanna lose 3lbs." sort of way. <br />
And I have to admit, I got pretty lucky. Most of my pregnancy cravings were for fruit, so I didn't gain too much and breastfeeding brought me back to my pre-prego size (not a number to write home about in the first place) in a few weeks. No all-carb diets needed. But daaayummm things have changed. That's right--a TWO syllable damn. That's when you know, (all together now) shit is real.<br />
What the hell is with the hips I now have on my box-y body? My stomach looks...sad. No really, if you look at it just right, I'm pretty sure you could see a saggy sad face in there. And, let us not forget, the crowning glory, le stretchmarks. No, they don't make me feel "womanly empowered" or like a "tiger" or warm and fuzzy or any crap like that. They make me feel like I have stretch marks. They're there. I've got 'em, and anyone who says I should love them, I've got two words for you:<br />
<br />
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Yeah, things are, shall we say, <strike>scary as all hell</strike> different, and I'm actually fine with it. I thought the whole "losing my body" thing would be more devastating but I really just don't have time to be devastated. Sure I try to watch what I eat (not at baby showers on yesterday afternoons where cupcakes and cookies abound, but let's not go there). I sneak in some crunches and cardio whenever I can, but I'm not even able to obsess over it like my silly (and pretty damn fit) former self. I'm working on it, but I've got a squishy baby to obsess over and I don't want to waste this precious short time staring at my scale. I don't have to like it (I'm looking at <i>you</i>, stretchmarks), but I can, in a weird way, appreciate it. I look in the mirror and say, "You grew a sturdy, almost 9lb. baby! Good job, you."<br />
<br />
So muffin top be damned! I should be doing my ab circuit right now, but I've got a snuggle bunny sleeping on my chest and I have no intention of moving her.<br />
<br />
P.S.--ten points and a high five to whoever can finish the quote in the title.CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-71359450799457133812013-03-30T13:23:00.000-07:002013-03-30T13:23:28.423-07:00Happy Easter!<div style="text-align: center;">
$5 bunny ears from Costplus=pure gold and entertainment for days!
<br />I can't get enough of my beautiful bunny. And how bout that growth spurt chub?!<br /></div>
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Happy Easter and God bless!</div>
CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-28503760241341827362013-03-29T08:08:00.000-07:002013-03-29T10:13:47.941-07:0011pm thoughts at 8amScarlett loves Easy A.<br />
<br />
Aaaaand the parenting fails begin. <br />
Baby girl hates tummy time. A lot. Last night I put her down, ready for the meltdown. She popped up, looked past me to the movie behind me and gave our TV a big ol' smile for a good 10 minutes. Thanks, Emma Stone, for making my baby enjoy her daily workout. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDL0xDsFtzpGH82i-Cfy9U3egKEx9ANHIRCzU29hkIH0VZ3RY46ypp0QxHVM5qwQBMPsc9AHDOOM4j6DORGrn_r5ieHukpJfwOkFFt0PlRsKDg-8GLd8MoahgnAy7KReiv2eoaAQz_uBw/s1600/march13+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDL0xDsFtzpGH82i-Cfy9U3egKEx9ANHIRCzU29hkIH0VZ3RY46ypp0QxHVM5qwQBMPsc9AHDOOM4j6DORGrn_r5ieHukpJfwOkFFt0PlRsKDg-8GLd8MoahgnAy7KReiv2eoaAQz_uBw/s640/march13+002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning books and tunes--this is after a tummy time meltdown, hence frowny face.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I seriously need to stop stalking Baby Gap/Old Navy. It's a problem. Scarlett and I go wishful shopping at least once a <strike>day</strike> week. (You know. Load up your online cart with everything your little heart desires, look at the grand total, say "Well that sucks," and move on to your next activity. If you say you don't do it, you're lying.) Anyways, the summer lines are coming out and the last thing I need to do is drool over chambray ruffled rompers and floral sundresses.....because occasionally I break. And end up buying said <a href="http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=54054&vid=1&pid=390765002" target="_blank">chambray ruffled romper</a>. And convince myself it'll go in her Easter basket. You know, sometimes. Not last week or anything. Shut up.<br />
<br />
HGTV--(noun) a TV network that sucks in the first time home buyer and causes them to obsess over potential DIY projects and decorating and faux exposed brick back splashes<br />
--For similar effects, see: "Ikea" and "Crate & Barrel"<br />
<br />
Our shrimp has officially been sleeping through the night for 2 weeks now. No schedule or anything like that, I just gave her a simple bed time routine and apparently it's working. Pretty fancy trick for a 6 week old to pull off. Even better to keep it up for 2 weeks. Mama appreciates it. Good job, kid! Hopefully it lasts.<br />
<br />
Unexpected shit I bought this week: Maple flavoring??? Damn it, Pinterest.<br />
<br />
I actually worked out today. It was pitiful, but it was something. We'll see how I feel tomorrow since last week I did, like, 40 crunches and was sore the next day. Good times.<br />
<br />
Eric sings the Rubber Ducky song from Sesame Street to Scarlett during bath time. It's pretty much the cutest thing I've ever heard. <br />
<br />
We have a double chin, neck rolls, tummy chub and thunder thighs--woot woot! Growth spurts are the craziest things ever. We're on the tail end of my nugget's 6 week growth spurt and I swear, in a 3 hour nap, her thighs doubled in size. So much chub! I'm dying of cuteness.<br />
<br />
I got Eric to try the Moby wrap. I don't think he'll ever be the same again:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somebody's sucked in</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8ptavfmSK5P7Fo2mKykgAhox44agFhWMvCkBn38fvL1UIB43qJouzqMQC8V-3U3ahi-9-qMosKf4Z-6a9cCsjhpNy7aY2TMQ77ZO-ARZs4UZegKRTo614gi6XK5XM7T3WcnmZfKLsTxP/s1600/march13+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8ptavfmSK5P7Fo2mKykgAhox44agFhWMvCkBn38fvL1UIB43qJouzqMQC8V-3U3ahi-9-qMosKf4Z-6a9cCsjhpNy7aY2TMQ77ZO-ARZs4UZegKRTo614gi6XK5XM7T3WcnmZfKLsTxP/s640/march13+013.JPG" width="425" /></a></div>
<br />
And last, but not least--we are officially on the move! Pre-approval is underway and the realtor is hunting. We've been talking about it for a year and a half, and it's finally time, I hope. Fingers crossed that it works out cuz Lord knows our budget is slim for the area we're looking at. Another reason to stop watching so much HGTV--it's positively painful/nauseating to see the 6 bedroom mansions we could afford in other states. If only we liked San Antonio.....<br />
<br />
bedebedebde that's all folks.CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-57386828766835921322013-03-23T16:01:00.000-07:002013-03-23T16:01:51.357-07:00Play it cool, baby!So yesterday we made it out of the house. Eric was home and I needed to make a return and I wanted to go to Kohl's, blah, blah, blah.<br />Anyway! I was super excited to just be out of the house so I suggested that, since our shrimp was still in a good mood, we go walk around the mall. Just for funsies. So we got there and I got Scarlett all Moby-ed up. We didn't plan on being there long so I decided not to tote around the diaper bag. <br /><br />Wehlllllll, we got as far as Old Navy (basically, not very far) and my growth-spurting girl decided that she must eat. <b>NOW.</b> My nursing cover was in the car. Ugh. I figured since there was no line and it didn't seem busy, I could get a "dressing room" and just feed her real quick. I grabbed a couple shirts that I was <i>obviously</i> going to try on. by myself. with a baby. Ok, who was I fooling? But at least the pretense was there. It was probably 5 minutes, 8 tops. (I refuse to say '10' because I know it wasn't that long). Voila, happy baby. I popped her back in her carrier, grabbed my decoy clothes and walked out of the dressing room. BOOM. Apparently in that time, the whole world decided to show up at Old Navy, form a 10 person line for the dressing room and give me one collective dirty look as I stepped out of the room that I had apparently occupied for too long. <br /><br />Internal monologue:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Ok. No big deal. I mean, they don't </i>know<i> that you were just feeding your baby and not trying on clothes. I'll just walk away. No one will have any idea---</i></blockquote>
<b>BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b>Not once we got away, not when we were in the clear. Nope. Miss Thing decided to let it out right as we passed the line of irritated looking people. Just in case it wasn't clear, she decided to spit up all over my shoulder and Moby wrap. Ya know, for good measure.<br /><br />Way to play it cool, kid.<br />I decided it was best to leave before the angry mob started.<br />Misadventures of new motherdom.<br /><br />In other news, my kid is a bunny.<br /><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSC4hTdKQv5fjKwv14MraiNEiwAwWMwFQd8Q7C4MCOFjUXtANe3QrpJXmRbaTi7KG3a0tmIo6Mu84TwDR5Ia9NWFYGSfx3_dMq3iSeMXX9Am_wJw_SzuukvhLdmIMRl1SzD_WJtRD5Wsxi/s1600/march13+052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSC4hTdKQv5fjKwv14MraiNEiwAwWMwFQd8Q7C4MCOFjUXtANe3QrpJXmRbaTi7KG3a0tmIo6Mu84TwDR5Ia9NWFYGSfx3_dMq3iSeMXX9Am_wJw_SzuukvhLdmIMRl1SzD_WJtRD5Wsxi/s640/march13+052.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtN2POkApTCb2Wj-Unc4OouYa6ti72gGglJxWmqzBdTTVK7UtGA5SfNOfzWoRdK7X6I6F1hXX9C0OsYi_aQFN0qJ_4ojhWx7Z79Y6csi_5_YlahmHcNpICN11eDLF0lA2rlUKLAYgoNqN/s1600/march13+059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtN2POkApTCb2Wj-Unc4OouYa6ti72gGglJxWmqzBdTTVK7UtGA5SfNOfzWoRdK7X6I6F1hXX9C0OsYi_aQFN0qJ_4ojhWx7Z79Y6csi_5_YlahmHcNpICN11eDLF0lA2rlUKLAYgoNqN/s640/march13+059.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's not gonna hate me when she's older, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-7487334346997846512013-03-19T17:48:00.001-07:002013-03-19T17:48:25.921-07:0042 minute vacationYesterday was Eric's day off and we needed some groceries. I told him that we could all go right after I fed Scarlett or I could try to put her down for a nap and I could go by myself.<br />
He told me just to go.<br />
<br />
Wait, whhaaaaa???!!!<br />
<br />
I didn't even know what to do with myself. I think I managed an "Um, ok." Down baby girl went. I ripped my gross hair up into a mess on the top of my head and threw on the first thing I could find to wear. Make up? Ain't nobody got time for that, I've got an hour nap to beat! Purse, check. Grocery bags, check. <br />
I'm missing something, I'm missing something. Wait. No, I'm not! I'm going alone. No car seat in tow? No diaper bag? My arms felt too light! It was too easy to get out the door. It was too...weird.<br />
<br />
I got in the car and made my way to Trader Joe's, car dancing and belting out some Lady A the whole way. It was one part excitement and one part trying to distract myself from the fact that my baby was not with me. I think the exact text I sent my sister said that I wasn't sure whether to do cartwheels in the aisles or sprint out the door, all the way back home. My mind was so all over the place that I forgot three of the things I went for and bought three things we didn't need instead. Mommy mush brain much? (Although husband was grateful for the cheap pork chops I scored.)<br />
<br />
I made it out of the house for a full 42 minutes by myself. It felt like I just took a week long vacation--it was a nice break. Lovely, even.<br />But I missed my nugget.<br />CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-40039415432374712082013-03-15T08:40:00.000-07:002013-03-15T08:40:11.072-07:00This week's cute<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnzX58__TQ_RauXpX-cg2NnGXdi9ST7DRcVBeFydxdTM60US6dFgi2own5wKJCTir4dik6v59r6WxeKACkkeRheCOG8l3joF_Yma67C_6u-0flxjzdFX64g0U8GC8I2i1BgsCECRPLtih/s1600/E&S.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnzX58__TQ_RauXpX-cg2NnGXdi9ST7DRcVBeFydxdTM60US6dFgi2own5wKJCTir4dik6v59r6WxeKACkkeRheCOG8l3joF_Yma67C_6u-0flxjzdFX64g0U8GC8I2i1BgsCECRPLtih/s640/E&S.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Loving her daddy. So much precious.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsvmR916GKW-LWVjYLZvsgqncQ0UErx8Mrv9nLzJnvizgx6L5FFhBX5UTDQtFRPhoKjkEPIH6nxM-G6_pmRphlmpJhHAc1KZUtEi99HAnJCEOWYRqu2ZlRk8MvCo3MNiUpKUzC4HEh0vg/s1600/tummytime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsvmR916GKW-LWVjYLZvsgqncQ0UErx8Mrv9nLzJnvizgx6L5FFhBX5UTDQtFRPhoKjkEPIH6nxM-G6_pmRphlmpJhHAc1KZUtEi99HAnJCEOWYRqu2ZlRk8MvCo3MNiUpKUzC4HEh0vg/s640/tummytime.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Tummy time (featuring Smurf mouth)<br />
I can't get over this kid's extremely high adorable factor!<br /><br />Have a lovelyful day!</div>
CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-12151623301671508362013-03-13T16:19:00.000-07:002013-03-13T16:19:03.055-07:00News from the frontIt is all out war here.<br />
I tried polite negotiations--prescription nystatin.<br />
Ef that, got nothing done. (Seriously, who was the genius that decided to put sugar in a medicine to fight an infection that thrives on sugar?)<br />
I lost the battle.<br />
<br />
I tried going rogue--grapefruit seed extract.<br />
It brought about retreat but never a full surrender.<br />
I'd see a hint of clearing up, get all excited, cry victory, only to see the enemy regenerate and multiply over nap time.<br />
I lost the battle.<br />
<br />
Today I drop my A-bomb.<br />
Today, shit gets real.<br />
Today we've got our war paint on.<br />
And by war paint, I mean gentian violet.<br />
My baby's mouth is BLUE.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dSyNr-ixk5Xow-IqV4QqUnUbUYd3xgVk8HUWixY9mYcV8kcYIcDWH05cbbMiyl29YQF7RUV5v6LhycRnIRt0V2_wVYZKd7wN1Srw16oD9PJUY7oabcFADZc45vMaNFbtsBVgAmvaveAq/s1600/1month+311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dSyNr-ixk5Xow-IqV4QqUnUbUYd3xgVk8HUWixY9mYcV8kcYIcDWH05cbbMiyl29YQF7RUV5v6LhycRnIRt0V2_wVYZKd7wN1Srw16oD9PJUY7oabcFADZc45vMaNFbtsBVgAmvaveAq/s320/1month+311.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Thrush--you're going dooowwwnnnn, bitch.<br />
You hurt my baby and I will destroy you.<br />
I have lost two battles, but I'm telling you, I'm a stubborn sonuvabitch and <br /><b>I WILL win the war.</b><br />
Feel my deep blue, lip staining wrath.</div>
CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-20560463441229785812013-03-06T13:03:00.001-08:002013-03-06T16:33:41.934-08:004am thoughts, posted at 1pmThrush still sucks. Today we cut out sugar and carbs to help the process. Not my fave.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhoY0SGoVNlA8N9iw_fKOdycH0-1EB87UFH1GA42tDRosjvWQuj26-zlOU9Au311NMwDgDEJh__7TCAuCxb7WvhRUWgztmQKZKCvjl4d6FCmQrLgL85gWZGDS4l8yGP58QdNZQa7HnDiKE/s1600/1month+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhoY0SGoVNlA8N9iw_fKOdycH0-1EB87UFH1GA42tDRosjvWQuj26-zlOU9Au311NMwDgDEJh__7TCAuCxb7WvhRUWgztmQKZKCvjl4d6FCmQrLgL85gWZGDS4l8yGP58QdNZQa7HnDiKE/s320/1month+013.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's all over for me, I'm sucked in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm hooked. In deep. Wrapped around a finger. Whatever you want to call it, I'm there. Last night Scarlett was fast asleep in her rocker, right next to my side of the bed. Eric and I were looking at all of our pictures of her that we just uploaded. And I missed my baby. 5 inches away from me, happily snoozing in her rock n' play, I missed my baby. I had serious snuggling envy of an inanimate object because it was holding my baby and not me. <br />
Whoa.<br />
<br />
I get to be the Easter bunny this year. Hell to the yes. This is oh so very exciting! You might say I've dabbled in generous mythical/legen(wait.for.it)dary beings before. I've picked up candy at 1am to fill shoes on St. Nick's feast day. I've Santa wrapped with the best. But being the Easter bunny for my own kid? Even though she has no idea what's going on? I'm freakin out, man!! This year I think baby girl is getting some of the cutest headbands you ever did see:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVvfwi3Ggb3aUNdEvW3zM0hpWKJdJiCOC8cypjGN3q6Z3OyNJySswntaMVpYYQ38C4nkeVdWk6XEFE0Obhmxkpkg9Qg21xCfQWx3Zi32NQQdoW4DQFBwXR-H8pKXRvV2OrRW9GpayfzMu/s1600/lhs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVvfwi3Ggb3aUNdEvW3zM0hpWKJdJiCOC8cypjGN3q6Z3OyNJySswntaMVpYYQ38C4nkeVdWk6XEFE0Obhmxkpkg9Qg21xCfQWx3Zi32NQQdoW4DQFBwXR-H8pKXRvV2OrRW9GpayfzMu/s320/lhs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Hip Squeaks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
(I already have her TOMS picked out that she's getting from Santa this year. Oh to be Santa--I can't even go there yet. Because I will die waiting.)<br />
<br />
This kid has been sleeping like a champ for the past three nights. Seriously, we're talking 5-6 hour stretches. I hope it lasts because it's. awesome. and so much nicer than the 3-4 wake ups a night of last week. As long as I go down when she does, we're in great shape. I never thought I'd wake up at 4am and feel so well rested. Welcome to parenthood. This morning she woke up without a peep. I got up to take my meds for my poor chest before feeding and when I came back, those big, beautiful blue eyes were just staring at me, like "oh hey mama, just waiting for you." I melted into a big pile of mush. How much cute can be packed into one tiny person I ask you?! <br />
<br />
Amazon--I could write a sonnet about how much I love you. I could. But I don't really feel like it right now, so I'll just say, you're my favorite. Breastfeeding in public and thrush do not mix, so getting all my crap shipped to my front door definitely trumps making an unhappy baby trek all over town with me. Why am I thinking this now? Because I am simultaneously blogging and Amazon cruising for Easter basket goodies and grapefruit seed extract (to further kill the thrush. Damn, that bastard keeps coming up.)<br />
<br />
And yeah, that's what my head looks like after a 4am feeding.<br />
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<br />CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-7799111601125263192013-03-05T19:57:00.001-08:002013-03-05T19:58:41.929-08:00Arg.<div style="text-align: center;">
Dear thrush,
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<br />
Seriously. You suck. Why you wanna mess with me trying to feed my baby? I hurt, she hurts and the fact that I have to boil e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. every five minutes--royal pain in the ass. Just go away. No one likes you, you're not invited to my birthday party, etc. <br />
Scarlett disapproves of your shenanigans. <br />
<br />
Be warned--we have prescriptions. We have homeopathics. <br />
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So yeah. GTFO. We have no time for you here.
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<br />
Ef you very much,
<br />
Carolyn and ScarlettCarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-88172171300144969232013-02-28T22:32:00.000-08:002013-02-28T22:37:02.498-08:00Dear February,We've had a fun relationship over the years. I always looked forward to you due to my love of Valentine's Day. When I was a kid, I looked forward to you because I thought winter ended after Christmas and that you meant spring. (It was a sad day when I discovered how seasons actually work.) We've shared some good times--cute scarves, candy hearts, the beginning of the end of the cold. But this year is so different.<br />
<br />
This year, February, you made me a mom. This 2013 February will stay with me the rest of my life. From now on, I will look forward to my daughter's birthday. I'll spend time carefully picking out the perfect birthday present and decorations to make her smile. I will meticulously plan surprises and new traditions. I will cry at the passage of time as every year I get further and further away from the infant I now hold in my arms. Crying will be followed by excitement for all the life I get to witness before my very eyes.<br />
<br />
I am grateful, February. As you draw to an end, I must thank you before you go. Thank you for giving me one week to realize my own strength. Thank you for giving me three weeks of wonder and vulnerability and joy and amazement. Thank you for being a lovely and hospitable hostess for this time in my life. Your chilly air and rain and breezes made for excellent baby snuggling weather. Thanks for taking us in after this little girl decided she just could not be born in January. Thank you for making us a family.<br />
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A toast to you, February 2013. Thank you for changing my life forever.
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CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-57657013065771031972013-02-27T15:00:00.000-08:002013-02-27T15:33:20.233-08:00Oatmeal.When I was a teenager I used to joke about being my parents' hippie child. I guess I was more of a half-ass hipster with my random little known bands and indie flicks and TOMS and love of transcendental literature....ok, I still love all those things. But I wouldn't say I was ever <i>obscure </i>enough for the truly hipsta-fied. I rocked the white v-neck, cardigan, and skinny jeans look with the best of them, but I was a few beanies and decorative glasses short of a club membership. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qhd4imcr1iLCrQXT_Xe3mnkaAxnZH4DYK-xljHbem8zC8lDItLhtD5J1VtJOs8FFh9lE_oul6ZA8M67xuNuktQtxMOu2iPf0b_8bBRmV029SIp3vTMFt_9G6-iNxQp1XI8WgC9sMg6RI/s1600/feb13+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qhd4imcr1iLCrQXT_Xe3mnkaAxnZH4DYK-xljHbem8zC8lDItLhtD5J1VtJOs8FFh9lE_oul6ZA8M67xuNuktQtxMOu2iPf0b_8bBRmV029SIp3vTMFt_9G6-iNxQp1XI8WgC9sMg6RI/s320/feb13+024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">goofball already.</td></tr>
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So now here I am in this new world of mama-dom. And--same shit, different setting. I have found that my ideals mostly fall in hippie-mom category. But in this world of crunchy granola moms I am.......<br />
<br />
....oatmeal.<br />
<br />
Oh yes. Oatmeal. I've got the oats and grains, but it's watered down as all hell and not even close to hardcore. I have my leanings and tendencies, but <strike>sometimes</strike> expectation and reality are two verrry different things. I'll give ya a few big, fat for instances:<br />
<br />
I birthed med free and naturally. BUT, on the way to my recovery room, my nurse asked if I would like any pain killers. I believe my exact words were "Labor's over, the baby's out--shoot me up." (Because, ya know, Motrin is <i>such</i> hard stuff). She got a kick out of it.<br />
<br />
I like the idea of cloth diapering. I think I'd like to try it. Juuuust not this time. I thought about it while I was pregnant and the conclusion I came to--one thing at a time. I'll try to get this mom thing figured out before throwing that into the mix. Maybe for volume 2. This time around, it's Earth's Best and "ain't nobody got time (or space) for that!"<br />
<br />
I cosleep/bed share. BUT, soo not my original plan. I have a crib and a rocker for this little lady. I thought she was bound to love one of them. And actually, she loves both! For naps. Night--fuhgettaboutit. If I want to hope for more than 1 hour of sleep at a time, it's with her on my chest or next to me or nothing at all. Can't say that I mind having a little snuggle bunny, though :) Even if she does snore like a bear.<br />
<br />
I breastfeed. Didn't think I'd use a bottle for another few months and even then, only when I needed to leave her with my husband for a couple hours. Ha. As of last night, I am officially doing one pumped bottle per night. Didn't see that happening, but at this point it's better for all involved--happy baby, more mentally stable mama, husband...ok, maybe he lost out on this one. Now he wakes up too to hold her while I prep the goods. Muahaha. And I seriously can't wait to start introducing solids so I can catch a break with feedings. <br />
<br />
I baby wear and we both like it. It's so cozy! But with warmer weather coming, I'm counting the days til she's big enough for her stroller. Mostly because I think she'll love it because she's so curious and nosy. Partly because it would just be nice and convenient.<br />
<br />
So there you have it. I try, but at the end of the day, I's a big bowl of squishy oatmeal. Whatevs. Who's keeping score?<br />
<br />
In other news, here's the latest and greatest from Babylandia:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0o7CfqaTKE_wxSzqJ98esnNwzy3ZzQ6VdQXpFk40Ht5dWiiiKjqK7vMcl4JKsB5Fmwc1zZZ6wSzh4KZQ3xjOhF0h0B9Gb1hl6h4UNYMKfHXCtOKPPxlTE57Izms08PQoVtiDkeIytbqt/s1600/feb13+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0o7CfqaTKE_wxSzqJ98esnNwzy3ZzQ6VdQXpFk40Ht5dWiiiKjqK7vMcl4JKsB5Fmwc1zZZ6wSzh4KZQ3xjOhF0h0B9Gb1hl6h4UNYMKfHXCtOKPPxlTE57Izms08PQoVtiDkeIytbqt/s320/feb13+011.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She loves to talk to her stuffed animals. She stares at them and smiles and giggles. AH-dorable.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJWLAE8NH_Tyb_0AzCSGMDi04AOBoEv-nhkK2Tn657yeCJcHBzT2Swxg465conxrs2DFq-oLKuZpKtfH9XpkFxL_cij4Y2VxzJMLohcjue2jcvkr_pSCx2i2PhaJPADcOfRMT9rqBbcQo/s1600/feb13+044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJWLAE8NH_Tyb_0AzCSGMDi04AOBoEv-nhkK2Tn657yeCJcHBzT2Swxg465conxrs2DFq-oLKuZpKtfH9XpkFxL_cij4Y2VxzJMLohcjue2jcvkr_pSCx2i2PhaJPADcOfRMT9rqBbcQo/s320/feb13+044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone's tolerating headbands quite well. Oh, honey. Give mama an inch...</td></tr>
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And finally! I bought these shorts in the fall and basically ever since I've been counting the seconds til I could put her in them! It's everything I hoped it'd be and more. Why didn't I buy every size?!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMZmfcHrQ5bcyUlKwA6s8_ubRqOkCK8SnIMEtrdyYEgPjKi1Z5ueeV9_GiahKz0BRVKGSXOeLXxo9B81cTAoIbq9_IjmXKSTlyhPNDpZ3wNvTc7YEV0o9wc2QVWewTFA-ZNctDv2Ckpbm/s1600/feb13+049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMZmfcHrQ5bcyUlKwA6s8_ubRqOkCK8SnIMEtrdyYEgPjKi1Z5ueeV9_GiahKz0BRVKGSXOeLXxo9B81cTAoIbq9_IjmXKSTlyhPNDpZ3wNvTc7YEV0o9wc2QVWewTFA-ZNctDv2Ckpbm/s320/feb13+049.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new favorite outfit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6Y-q4gu0gIrlTTbPpAC3j10epW6tgim_rzB8WvHuI9n1i1jtqsnlv9gaKdmTguW72ZQJW3ZfDu4sLj_ItPpoa8Jg9CMDNh7p_9TvG8u8KDrkCQy5yVQJc7ZCElsx5icc42xgxkNq-f-Y/s1600/feb13+053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6Y-q4gu0gIrlTTbPpAC3j10epW6tgim_rzB8WvHuI9n1i1jtqsnlv9gaKdmTguW72ZQJW3ZfDu4sLj_ItPpoa8Jg9CMDNh7p_9TvG8u8KDrkCQy5yVQJc7ZCElsx5icc42xgxkNq-f-Y/s320/feb13+053.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hehehe I die.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAt0Rtmr47S0m6R0VdRp5bL0U8OnuTwARjMGNzhpeqS2nX8ZoQBcr5kKty0p9R_VkbBqPukcFcHSJzYvNNVs666xshN9L66iIraM5DVu_x8moDSdfOAIIQj42pC7m0RSYHkgNEXHnmoSCH/s1600/feb13+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAt0Rtmr47S0m6R0VdRp5bL0U8OnuTwARjMGNzhpeqS2nX8ZoQBcr5kKty0p9R_VkbBqPukcFcHSJzYvNNVs666xshN9L66iIraM5DVu_x8moDSdfOAIIQj42pC7m0RSYHkgNEXHnmoSCH/s320/feb13+056.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cozy toes!</td></tr>
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CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-83505200132473346072013-02-21T19:13:00.000-08:002013-02-21T21:21:02.400-08:00Newborn life--harder than you think.16 days in and we're alive!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRinlJR9LiTYh29cAjpfB2dn-psxQB6-vajILqfHBb-4pDo1gMr_KKp9lWwXe0VOxpPa2bnuXPeedEJEA9BYihkaRjYc3CKg-grn6FGBkr5NOjwv8uHNI9sZx0AHUOYOSWHf-NdJbJM21h/s1600/baby+time!+063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRinlJR9LiTYh29cAjpfB2dn-psxQB6-vajILqfHBb-4pDo1gMr_KKp9lWwXe0VOxpPa2bnuXPeedEJEA9BYihkaRjYc3CKg-grn6FGBkr5NOjwv8uHNI9sZx0AHUOYOSWHf-NdJbJM21h/s320/baby+time!+063.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny rage!! Cuz ish is tough!</td></tr>
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Miss Thing is officially 9lbs. and growing like crazy. Today she's wearing some jammies that she was swimming in just 2 weeks ago. They just about fit now. Sooo fast! We tell her all the time that she's big for a baby but small for a person.<br />
<br />
It's funny how a baby is making me rethink life at its most basic. There are many things that I realize must be scary to her. I know people always joke about the simple "good life" of eat, sleep, poop, repeat, but I of course prefer to over think it. Think about it--being a newborn sucks. It's hard and it's stressful.<br />
<br />
Exhibit A: On day two at home, around 4am breakfast time, it crossed my mind--she's never really been hungry before. WEIRD. To go from having a constant flow of nutrients to having a rumbly tummy. I mean, if I experienced an empty stomach feeling for the first time and didn't know how to fix it, I'd cry too. Add that to the fact that this new world is all at once too hot, too cold, too bright, too dark, too loud and too quiet--it's scary to be a tiny person! Don't even get me started on constantly waking up in a different place. I'd freak the f*$% out. How bout a hazy understanding of object permanence? Every time she can't see me or feel me, it's like her primary source of food and snuggles is gone forever. For months her tiny body was all wrapped up tight, now it's a free-for-all of limbs and phalanges. Whenever she's not swaddled or she's all nake for a bath, she gets so startled by her little arms and legs. Pretty much the same phenomenon that scares the bejezus out of Chandler.
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All of this while simultaneously going through the most ridiculously long growth spurt ever!<br />
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Being a new mom is tough, but I guess it's no picnic for her either. Usually during our early morning feedings, I look at the fuzzy haired chicklet in my arms and sigh and tell her, "We'll figure this out eventually." Probably not tonight or tomorrow, but, ya know, eventually.</div>
CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-78170309800559747002013-02-11T22:32:00.003-08:002013-02-11T22:32:30.782-08:00My baby's hands make me cry (and other findings)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW_jnvu4OExGwoS2mG_eaiwcBbTpRZTAdI1esVNCJHeC33VtdBATkCpsgRjC-4qRv_aYnNRNytir7iuvLPcbAUNoZCYcQZ_pKaZyVo9N1eGCy2Pepo8niIaeS_h3Puv_Iy5cxw17zzYdkV/s1600/baby+time!+173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW_jnvu4OExGwoS2mG_eaiwcBbTpRZTAdI1esVNCJHeC33VtdBATkCpsgRjC-4qRv_aYnNRNytir7iuvLPcbAUNoZCYcQZ_pKaZyVo9N1eGCy2Pepo8niIaeS_h3Puv_Iy5cxw17zzYdkV/s320/baby+time!+173.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't have any good shots of her hands yet, but this is close.<br />
My sleepy baby and her little lady hands.</td></tr>
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One of the first things I noticed about Scarlett was her hands. This is going to sound very strange, but she has my hands. I don't really see much of me in her face. I see my husband's nose (round, bouncy ball perfection), I see my family, maaaaybe my eyes, just not necessarily me. But her hands--now those are all me. Long, skinny fingers, super long nail beds, those look familiar. In every ultrasound I have, in any shot of her face, her hands are right there all cozy next to her chubby cheeks. The same place they are when she eats now. They're either folded in a little praying position, balled up in fists by her ears or folded like a little lady across her chest. Or, my personal favorite, her thinking finger. She must've done this a lot on the inside because at least five times a day, she puts her little pointer finger right next to her mouth like she's pondering the deep questions of baby world. I die.<br />
So last night after she was good and milk drunk, giving me some goofy smiles, her hands were in little lady position. Aaaaand hormones took over from there. I friggin lost it. She's just so...perfect. So I cried. Eric tried to figure it out, but I could hardly put together an intelligible sentence. As he stood there looking a bit confused, I finally managed to get out, "Damn hormones." He laughed and got me to move from the rocking chair to the couch so we could split a beer and snuggle our little baby and her monster hands. We set aside our laptop and phones and curled up to "watch" Ice Age (duh) and point out all of our little girl's perfection. It was exactly what I needed. <br />
At that point I had already had a few "who am I now?" moments. At 3am the night before I was thinking about the girl I used to be. Me in all my former sunroof open, spontaneous trips to LA just for tacos, suntanned, gym loving, tequila shooting, late night adventuring glory. I feel like she got left behind 9 months ago. She certainly disappeared in the delivery room. And now I'm coming to terms with the fact that while bits of her remain (I'd kill for some chilled Patron right now), a new version of her is taking over. I felt it when I wanted to rip the phlebotomist's head off the other day when she was taking forever to do a simple jaundice test and making my baby cry ( the previous 2 ladies were quick and patient. This lady was annoyed that we came in so close to closing time. Mama bear says grrrrrr.) I feel it every time she wakes up at night and something kicks my butt into gear and after 10 minutes, I don't mind being awake anymore. I notice it when I miss my little girl and she's a couch cushion away in my husband's arms. I'm getting used to this new beast who cries over baby hands and eats ridiculously fast. I like her so far. She's got a little more moxie and a little more strength. I guess this is just transition time. While I was all snuggled up last night with my sweet sleeping babe in my arms and my husband's arms around us, I felt at peace. All of my mourning for my former self disappeared and was replaced with absolute bliss. And while soaking up this beautiful moment, I of course had a song stuck in my head. (I still refuse to believe that my life isn't one big music video.) Some AWE-some 90's throwback country and one of my favorite childhood songs--I was a sap even then:<br /><br />
"And when they carve my stone all they need to write on it<br />
Is once lived a man who got all he ever wanted<br />
Tell me something who could ask for more<br />
Than to be living in a moment you would die for"<br />
<br />
Life is definitely changed. But once I get past all the anxiety and overwhelmed-ness a single moment can hold, I remember that this is the most incredible change I've ever been through. It's rough, it's magical, it's beautiful, it's making me cry right now (happy tears). In the last week I fell in love with my husband in a different way that I didn't even know existed. And I am daily falling so insanely in love with this gorgeous, squeaky, fiery little girl of mine. It really is everything I've ever wanted, so suddenly. But as we all know, according to Willy Wonka, that means I will live happily ever after. <br />
<br />
And now, to reward you for wading through my sea of emotions, I give you 90's country music video magic. You. Are. Welcome.
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CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-10742941700680489452013-02-08T23:50:00.000-08:002013-02-19T22:17:24.470-08:00Sweet Baby GirlShe's here! She's here! She's here! And she's giving me a quick break so I better type fast.<br />
After
almost 48 hours of consistent ten minute or less contractions and 7
hours in the hospital, Scarlett Christine made her entrance.<br />
So,
birth story fun: First I must preface this by saying that my goal from
day one was to go med free and....I actually did it!!! And when I say I
did it, I really mean I DID IT, BITCHES!!!...I'm a bit excited.<br />
(Remember the fine print at the bottom of the page that says you don't judge me? Me either, but if I had one, I'd direct you there now.) <br />
I'm typing this up because, not gonna lie, I'm a little proud. Not in a superior "Oh it's the<i> only</i> way to deliver" sort of way, just in a "major life goal/challenge accomplished" kind of way.<br />
Ok, here it is, super looong version of birth story. Major props if you actually make it through:<br />
<br />
So, on Wednesday I went to the doctor, feeling pretty good because I'd had some light contractions the day before and I was hoping for a little progress. Whoooommp Wahhhhh. Negative. Doc wasn't even able to get a decent check, but said he was pretty sure I was at least at 1cm. Same as the week before. He started talking about even if I go past 42 weeks, it was cool. He was really awesome about rolling with me and my goal. Of course hearing "maybe another 2 weeks or more" is hardly what any 40 week pregnant girl wants to hear, so I decided to ramp up my efforts to evict this baby. I was a walking a couple miles a day, popping evening primrose oil with every meal, drinking water like it was my job and compulsively bouncing on a yoga ball. Good times. Finally on Saturday contractions picked up. Sporadic in the morning, but at 6pm on the dot, they went to consistently 10 minutes apart. I called my mom and sister to let them know that I was pretty sure miss lady would be here in a few days. I went to bed and barely slept as things got more painful. Sunday! I got up, took a long walk and went to Mass. While at Mass, I scared the hell out of the sweet old lady next to me because I sat the whole time, breathing through contractions. She asked if I was sick and I quietly told her that I was in labor and I was fine. Her face was uh-mazing.We came home and watched the Super Bowl and thennnnnn shit got real. <br />
I called my mom again and let her know that I was pretty sure Monday would be thee day! I tried to sleep again but at 2am contractions woke me up and kept me up for the rest of the day. I timed, took a bath, did some last minute packing, ate a big breakfast and finally, when I hit the noted 5-1-1, woke Eric up at 4:30. I thought we should be going soon, but he asked me if I could wait longer, reminding me that I had wanted to stay home as long as possible. He was right so I agreed to wait til 6. Time distortion took over and suddenly, it was 8am and Mom and Jen were walking through my front door. We watched TV, ate a bunch of snacks and waited for things to pick up more. Around 4pm I had one contraction hit me hard and made me finally decide that it was time to go. After some more buzzing around and eating a quick dinner, we loaded up and made the incredible 2 mile journey to the hospital. I was deathly afraid of getting sent home.<br />
At 5:30 I entered triage praying for progress. ANY progress. I had been telling myself the whole time at home that I was only at 1, maybe 2 so I wouldn't get my hopes up. So when I heard, "Oh honey.....you're at 6 and you're not going anywhere," I cried. Things were actually moving!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SVX1qT8ydOiY-_PXp8IjZXlXbryGVEZZ4qA2oIONoP1dF3Ho0oJpIEwZWFCfdsF1jhEMiS1MQ44xaPRJY8W6Dr4al36ovfD7gDndZqnMxFWpidYXNSAioEwCu3yXOKHc2l-M3Z8HgWKR/s1600/baby+time!+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SVX1qT8ydOiY-_PXp8IjZXlXbryGVEZZ4qA2oIONoP1dF3Ho0oJpIEwZWFCfdsF1jhEMiS1MQ44xaPRJY8W6Dr4al36ovfD7gDndZqnMxFWpidYXNSAioEwCu3yXOKHc2l-M3Z8HgWKR/s320/baby+time!+009.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7cm. Still calm, still relaxed. About 1 hour away from "Eff that, I'm having back labor" o'clock.</td></tr>
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From 6cm-8cm, all of my hypnobirthing research served me well. I felt calm and relaxed and was breathing easy. After that...gone. My doctor arrived and broke my water and things went from "Ouch" and some moaning to a full-on guttural Tarzan experience. I had been up for almost 48 hours with a 2 hour nap, I couldn't breathe and back labor was raging. <br />
<br />
Now, Eric and I didn't take any birthing prep classes. I read a couple of books, talked to some people and we giggled through a a video together (because we're super mature like that), but that's it. And he was AMAZING. Seriously, I'm considering buying him a cape. A few weeks ago I told him that at some point, I would look at him and tell him I that I couldn't do it and that I would possibly ask for meds. What I needed was for him to tell me no. At the time he just said okay. In the delivery room, he was my saving grace. He talked me down when I told him multiple times that I couldn't do it any more. When I crawled half way out of bed while going through a crazy contraction, he scooped me up and held me through it. A few of the nurses asked him who our instructor was that we had studied with and they were super surprised when he told them that we didn't. He just knew what to do and I will be forever grateful that he was there to get me through it.<br />
Around 10:30 I told the nurse that I needed to push and she just said go for it. Sweet. So I pushed. And pushed. They brought in a squat bar. I pushed some more. I was quite a sight to see. My eyes were rolling in different directions. I passed out twice. It was only for a split second, but it felt weird. Thank God for time distortion because if I knew that I would be pushing for 2 hours, I would've flipped. I did notice every time the nurse prepped something else. The doctor's table, the check up station. Finally after one monster push, my nurse looked at me and said, "She's got some dark hair!" She flipped the lights on and I heard, "Doctor and tech. NOW!" Sooo much relief! I knew my little girl would be here soon. In came my doctor and I was so happy to see him, I wanted to kiss him just for entering the room. Game on. With my husband, my mom, and my big sister around me and actually physically holding me up, I got through a few more major pushes and I heard the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. Scarlett Christine came into the world, eyes WIDE open and screaming her cute little head off. 8lbs. 13oz. 21 inches long with a 14in. head. Ouch baby, very ouch.They gave her to me and it was instant tears and love at first sight. Easily the most beautiful moment of my life. <br />
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<br />
<br />
My dad surprised us and drove the hour and a half to be there when the baby was born. He came in the room once I was all put back together again. It was indescribable to introduce my parents to my own little girl. One of those things that just blows you away. We all took her in. So much peace and so much pure joy. <br />
<br />
Real quick, I must rave about my hospital and the staff. My L&D nurse kicked ass. Seriously, I loved her. I had typed a birth plan just in case and I never needed to get it out. As soon as I got there the nurse who checked me in asked for my preferences and if I wanted to decline anything. I told her what I was hoping for and that was that. I asked for a saline lock and no IV. Done. They gave me a huge cup of water and told me to drink up so that I could avoid needing an IV. I said no drugs and no one offered me a thing. There wasn't an "Are you suuurrreee??" or "Well, just in case..." or "This is your last chance...." Nothing! They let me be even though I know it meant that my nurse needed to stay and keep a closer eye on me. My nurse never BSed me or tried to make light of things. She was a straight shooter--love that. I asked to change positions a few times to see if it helped with the pain. As long as she could monitor the baby, she let me try. When they didn't work for me, she didn't say a word. I've loved my doctor from day one and he was fantastic during delivery, even though I was screaming like a banshee into his face. My recovery nurses were saints--super helpful and gentle. They noted my appreciation for a good chocolate pudding cup and kept me stocked. I was put on a list of in-house Catholics and a minister from the church was sent to our room both mornings of our stay so we could receive Eucharist. We were so blessed with such a pleasant experience. I couldn't have asked for anything more.<br />
<br />
And now we're home. It's chilly outside and raining. Scarlett is happily passed out post-feeding and is snuggled up next to her daddy. I've already had to wash a ton of blankets and burp clothes and outfits. We're going through stuff fast! This is our life now. It's oh so blessed.CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-69521480093941056882013-02-01T18:34:00.001-08:002013-02-01T18:36:35.889-08:00The Keeping Busy ChroniclesSo today <br />
Baby woke me up at 5, I got up at 6 and had breakfast. Back in bed by 6:30 and slept til 10.<br />
<br />
In an effort to feel remotely human, I took the time to blow out my hair and put on makeup. <br />
Hash tag quasi-put together. <br />
<br />
I went grocery shopping. I (probably) unnecessarily made it a 3 store extravaganza. If only Costco, Trader Joe's and Vons were all in the same parking lot. Who do I write to about this?<br />
<br />
I decided to kill an hour and walk the mile to the third store for a grand total of 2 miles walked today. 2 very slow miles. It made me miss running in the worst way. That's definitely a new one for me. <br />
<br />
Laundry is conquered....sort of. I might leave folding for tomorrow. Can't leave myself with nothing to do then.<br />
<br />
I made myself a huge bowl of spaghetti squash with avocado pesto sauce, roasted tomatoes and sauteed mushrooms. I'm getting seriously desperate for stuff to do because when Eric's not home, I usually don't cook much for myself. Especially since all I really want for any meals these days is fruit.<br />
<br />
And now I have my very sore feetsies up while watching crap TV. And rambling. Contemplating a massive bowl of strawberries and kiwi for dessert.<br />
<br />
I keep telling myself that these Alllll byyyy myyyyyseeellllfffff days are limited.<br />
But still. Come on munchkin. Come out, come out wherever you are. I'm boring the nice people with these "blogging for something to do" posts.CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7974273453405372123.post-53198058122340668342013-01-31T12:21:00.002-08:002013-01-31T12:22:16.748-08:00Sittin' Waitin' Wishin'So baby girl has no evident intention of coming out anytime soon.<br />
That's cool. I like amethyst. Barring some miracle crazy-fast delivery in the next 12 hours, February it is.<br />
If you ask me during the day, I don't mind. I'm alright with it. I'm excited as all get out, but I'm okay with her taking her time. I've got random stuff to do. I've got a banana bread in the oven right now. (My vegan recipe is still thee. best. <i>and </i>I can eat the batter. Win-win.) I'm planning my dinners for the next week. I might go to the movies later and me-party it up at Silver Linings Playbook. I'm writing random posts about nothing. I'm good.<br />
Doc says as long as I'm healthy and baby's happy, we can wait. He even mentioned waiting past 42 weeks if that's what it takes. My reaction to 2+ more weeks was of course something akin to, "Dear God, please, NO." But I'm glad that there's no rush to induce. I have an NST on Monday. We'll see how that goes.<br />
<br />
Ask me at night when just trying to roll over causes a contraction, when I can't breathe while laying down, when I can't sleep cause there's a rave rolling through my insides as soon as I relax--<br />
I'm over it.<br />
<br />
But whatever. Every day is one day closer, right?...I need to try to remember that during my 3am roll-from-the-left-to-the-right cardio sessions. <br />
<br />
As for today, one plan down (hello delicious bread). Next up is take a walk and make my Valentines for my brothers, nieces and nephews because I'm 6 and still think Valentine's Day is one of the best days of the year. In fact, I might paint my toes a festive red today. And I think I'll count the yoga it requires to reach my toes as work out enough for the day. Am I efficient or what?CarolynChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985797437387911768noreply@blogger.com0