Adventures in babywearing

If you have a newborn or are going to have a baby, you have got to get this baby carrier with the infant insert.

Totally snuggly and amazing



After kindergarten drop off, we took a lovely walk around the neighborhood, and afterward Cooper slept happily snuggled inside the carrier like a little pea in a pod while I had a snack and did some work. Perfect.

I still also love the Moby, and made Ben understand that we needed to keep them both.

Thanks to my new found 2-handed mobility, we went apple picking




Which totally wore Cooper out

We did a little tummy time. I forgot all about tummy time. Is it still recommended?

I took about a thousand pictures of him for his birth announcements, which got old fast


The great thing about a newborn is that he makes me be present all the time. The moment is the only moment-- he needs something always. So I have just been holding him and kissing him and breathing him. And watching HGTV.

Grandpa Jack

We lost him today at age 91. He was old and sick, and he is at peace now. At least, that's what we told the children and what my grandma told me today because I am still a child, too, to at least a few more people.

This picture is so great because it's not recent-- look at that computer! And the huge ash tray! But it could have been taken any day because that's what Grandpa Jack did in his den-- he sat at his desk on the radio or the computer. When this image popped up on the scanner, Ben said , "That's how your grandpa looked every time I saw him."

I'll miss him, of course, but I might not know how much until I go into that room and there's no swivel, no eyebrows-raised smile, no body folded into the recliner in front of the TV. Anymore.

Cooper is a week old!

Things I forgot about newborns:

How much laundry they generate (srsly-- the kid pees through at least 2 pairs of pajamas a night, soaks a couple swaddle blankets in a 24 hour period and had his first poop bow out this morning).

How often they eat (takes at least a half an hour to get him to eat both sides and burp; then he eats eat a little bit more s he can fall asleep-- then he wants to do it all again-- plus a diaper change-- about 45 minutes later. So I have been hanging out on the couch watching lots of TLC).

How truly wonderful it is to snuggle with them (that downy head! That milky smell! That warm little neck! Those smooth, squishy cheeks! Almost makes me sad that this is my last baby. I always kind of thought we'd have one more after this, but oh my god! Childbirth is HORRIBLE and I don't ever want to do it again. Ever.)

I got Cooper these cute little stickers on Etsy to put on his onesies for his monthly pictures, and they came with a bonus newborn sticker:


The wild west theme made way more sense when I ordered them because this was his name-to-be:


Our pediatrician laughed and laughed when I admitted with some surprise that I hadn't done a damn thing to clean the baby since he was born (I mean, he got a bath at the hospital, but since then, nothing!). He said I should at least remember to take pictures of the kid. So today, I both washed AND photographed him. Big brother Jack was on hand to help, but he was moving too fast for me to photograph.
Cooper found the whole bath process weird and startling, but he didn't cry.



Things have improved a bit here since Ben bought me a Moby wrap and a Petunia Picklebottom Ergo with a cute little infant insert. I was freaking out because Cooper needs to be 8 pounds for the Bjorn, and he was only 7 pounds 7 ounces a the doc on Tuesday. Now I have a couple baby wearing options, which is good because I had to walk Harry to school this chilly morning. I swaddled Cooper, stuffed him in the Moby (which looks like the world's ugliest shirt), and zipped my fleece around us both. Super glam, but he was protected from kindergarten germs. Not sure how preschool drop off will go on Monday. I am thinking that I'll use the car seat and stroller, but I KNOW people are going to want to look a him, and I like the hands-off vibe that the wrap exudes because he is only going to be 10 days old on Monday and the only place germier than an elementary school is a preschool. It just seems like a PITA to put on in the preschool parking lot with both Jack and Harry in tow. (The logistics of drop offs are kind of screwy on Mondays).

I have been taking pictures of course.

I like the Miracle blanket Cooper's wearing, but I like the Aden + Anais blankets WAAAAAY better-- they are AWESOME.

Love his little sad face

The proud biggest brother


The bigger brother looking a little menacing

Ha! Caught him mid startle

Hanging in there

I always wondered what people meant when they talked about how going from 2-3 was harder than going from 1-2. Harder in what way, I thought? I remembered all the holding and the feeding and the doing things one-handed. And I am a total freakshow about keeping my wood floors spotlessly clean, so I thought floor maintenance might be a bit harder. And it is for sure.

But for me, the harder part is that I have absolutely no patience for Harry and Jack. I am okay with one of them at a time (not great but OK), but together? Forget about it. And they are going out of their way to screw with us. It's like they have forgotten every rule. Discarded every routine. I don't want to be a nagging shrew, but for goodness sake just SIT ON THE CHAIR when you eat your breakfast! Or maybe don't karate chop your brother 2 inches from the baby's squishy head. Just STOP SCREAMING at me.

So. Yeah. I feel like I am doing okay with the baby but I kind of suck at taking care of the big kids. Anybody else feel this way in the beginning? How'd you get over it? Luckily Ben and my mom are around to do fun stuff like fly kites!



It's a vicious cycle, right? Thy feel like I only love the baby because I am constantly consumed by his care. So they act out to see if I still love them. I get pissed and confirm their worst fears, so then they keep acting shitty, and I keep harping at them. Ugh.

I need to take a nap (and, since because of the timing of Cooper's birth, I have not had any caffeine since the morning of 9-8, I can nap whenever I want! Actually, I feel great decaff-- no, or little to no, anxiety and minimal sleep troubles-- totally counter intuitive.)

Cooper Dennis- late and snuggly

That's me pausing to have a contraction when we got to the hospital around 7 this morning, when the pain was pesky-- something I could smile through.


Yesterday I scheduled my induction for either the 12th or the 13th, talked with my doctor about the myriad interventions that could follow my promised pitocin drip, set up some pre-natal testing for today to make sure the baby's decrepit placenta could continue to support him through the weekend and generally freaked out.

I woke up at 2:45 this morning with uncomfortable contractions 8 minutes apart. I went downstairs to watch the movie Everybody's Fine and time them obsessively. By 5:50, they hurt and were 4 minutes apart. I woke up Ben. We called the hospital, and he canceled his class. we made some coffee, called my brother and headed to triage, where I was only a measly 3.5 cm. What a pisser.

We walked the halls for awhile because Cooper's heart beat was a cheerful 140 bpm the whole damn time no matter how terrible I felt, and when the resident checked again, I was 5 cm and admitted to a birth suite. The last birth suite. And the only one without a tub. I hung out in a hot shower for almost an hour and when I got out, I was only 6.5 cm and again pretty annoyed.

At this point, when a contraction struck, I would lean over the side of my bed, bury my face in a pillow, and make Ben rub my back. I could still breathe through them, so the nurse suggested we walk the halls again, and we decided I didn't need an epidural. Because, you guys, when i wasn't in increasing agony, I felt FINE. Totally and completely normal in fact.

Unfortunately, on our walk around the L&D loop, I had 4 contractions in about 6 minutes and tried to literally climb the walls. I thought I was going to die. We passed the nurses station, and I gurgled epidural at my nurse, who hurried to my room to start an IV. The resident followed her. I had the most agonizing contraction in the world, said fuck a lot, and almost turned the bed over. The nurse talked me through 2 more that followed back to back, and I managed to breathe through them. The resident checked me, and said it was time to push.

I went from 6.5 to 10 cm in about 30 minutes. No wonder that hurt so bad.

My water broke, full of meconium, and it was nasty.

I pushed for 26 minutes. THE LONGEST, MOST HORRIFIC, AND HORRIBLY PAINFUL 26 MINUTES OF MY LIFE.

And then:


7 pounds, 5 ounces, and 21 inches long, born at 12:40 pm.




The big brothers stopped by after school for presents and chocolate cigars.









And now? We are a family of 5.

OMG!! 40 3/4 weeks pregnant!

You guys this s all my fault for being so smug and thinking I would have the baby mid-August.

I know this.

And Harry getting teary-eyed at kindergarten drop-off is my fault for being so smug about him never once ever crying in 3 years of preschool.

I know this, too.

Also, I have spent the most ridiculous amount of money since I was about 37.5 weeks because I have nothing to do but shop either online or in person. Today, I just rounded out my post partum wardrobe with everything stretchy I could find at Old Navy. So having the baby will be good for my budget.

I am losing weight because I no longer have room to eat food.

I was horribly uncomfortable over Labor Day weekend, but I am okay now. Just bored. I keep having contractions, some of them so intense that I get out my iPhone contraction timer app and then THEY TOTALLY GO AWAY. Not cool. For a week.

Look at the size of my stomach:


Jack is really funny these days. He and I went to Target for a hot drink this morning after we dropped Harry off at school, and he was so cute and chatty and helpful at Old Navy. Here are a couple of random Jack videos from the last 2 days:

OMG!! Kindergarten!

Harry was such a sport posing for a million pics this morning

(still super pregnant. yes)

We walked to school

Harry was brave outside, but he seemed really freaked out when we left.

He was happy to see outside when school ended for the (long) day

Brothers! Reunited!

And then we went home for chocolate chip brownies. Harry said he cried a little because he missed us.

This is his back pack which cracks me up because it looks so official and only holds a lunch box and a water bottle.


I really don't know how to process kindergarten. I hope the public school system doesn't fail this kid, you know? And if there's trouble, I hope we can recognize its signs soon enough. We told him he had the nicest teacher in school because he was so freaked about school, but what if she's mean to him? Will he feel like he can tell us?

To change the subject, here's a picture of our last day of summer vacay. The grass is finally long enough for the kids to ruin it with the sprinkler, and they gave me quite the Big Time Rush karaoke concert. See?