Christmas Day

I was going to write all about Christmas Day with Perrin, but now that Trey's started a blog, he kind of took care of that already (http://blogalogadingdang.blogspot.com/2010/12/so-christmas.html). I thought that mildly amusing blog posts on our child's antics was MY territory, but whatever. His blog post is actually really good. Probably better than whatever I would have written. So I'm directing all of my faithful followers to his post to get the low-down on Christmas day.

But I couldn't resist posting a picture of Perrin unwrapping a present. He got the hang of wrapping paper pretty quickly. He'd rip off a big piece, then look at us guiltily as if he knew he'd just destroyed something and wasn't sure if we'd be happy about it. Then he'd shred more paper as we tried to get him excited about the actual present. Presents, shmesents--who cares about them when there's paper and ribbons and tape and boxes to play with?

Mr. Mischief

One of my favorite things to do in the evening is soak in a hot bubble bath and read a magazine. It's a luxurious, 20-minute break from being a mommy. Tonight, I decided I needed my 20-minutes of "me time." Trey agreed to be on baby duty, so I started running the water and getting the bath all ready.

While I was in the bedroom waiting for the tub to fill, I noticed Perrin crawling into the bathroom. "Hey, Trey," I yelled, "Can you get Perrin?"

He called for him like a dog: "Here, Perrin. Come here." Surprise, surprise--that didn't work.

Oh well. I could see him well enough from the bedroom to make sure he wasn't diving into the bathtub. So I figured it was no big deal. Unfortunately, I couldn't see him well enough to realize what he was doing. He was digging through the bathroom trash and methodically throwing bits and pieces into my bath water. By the time I got there, huge gobs of toilet paper and other unidentifiable things were floating around.

Trey came and got Perrin, and I began draining the tub and cleaning up the mess. The toilet paper gobbed up the drain, so the tub took FOREVER to empty. But I was determined to make the best of things, so I began running another bath. Unfortunately, there was some toilet paper stuck to the sides of the tub that I hadn't seen. And since I had already run one bath, I ran out of hot water part of the way through. So I ended up with about an inch of lukewarm, toilet paper infested water. Seriously NOT what I had in mind.

I guess I might have to start taking my baths after Perrin goes to sleep for the evening. And perhaps take out the bathroom trash more regularly.

First Christmas

Before Trey and I were even thinking about having Perrin, we talked about how we didn't want Christmas for our family to be all about presents. We wanted to focus on the significance of the birth of Christ and on spending time together as a family.

Now, here we are--Perrin's first Christmas. Will we hold true to our convictions? Here's a snapshot into our life as a family this season:

Me: (While walking around with Trey in WalMart) "It's not like Perrin's going to remember this Christmas anyway, so I don't think we need to go crazy with presents."

Trey: "I agree. Just a couple things. He'll be more interested in playing with the wrapping paper anyway."

Me: "Yep, so just a couple little things. We'll hardly spend any money at--OH MY GOSH! Look, it's a robot bunny that plays hide and seek with you! That is SO cool!"

Trey: "Ooh, and here's a submarine he can play with in the bathtub. We HAVE to get that."

Jayna: "And one of these baby laptops. Maybe now he'll stay away from mine."

Trey: "And don't forget we have to get stuff to fill up his stocking."

So... score 10 points for the commercialization of Christmas, zero so far for our hopes of injecting the true meaning of Christmas into our son's young life. I never thought it would be so hard to keep from spoiling him. I do have a child-friendly nativity that I'm going to set up and let him play with, and we'll read some Christmas books and sing Christmas carols that will be meaningful (or at least would be if he could understand them). Hopefully we'll end up with a good balance in the end.

Thankful

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. I love Thanksgiving because I feel like it's the most untainted of all the holidays. And this Thanksgiving was particularly good because it was our first Thanksgiving with Perrin! He rather enjoyed it too--he got to try all kinds of new foods. (I won't go into details about the interesting colors that showed up in his diapers later on... perhaps we overdid it a bit on the sweet potatoes.)

This has been a really challenging, unpredictable, crazy, wonderful year. Trey and I have had to make major adjustments, sacrifice our time, live on a shoestring budget, and sacrificially give and give to a baby who demands more of us than I could have envisioned. But it's been magical too. I never would have thought I could fall so deeply in love with this tiny person who drools, cries, poops, and doesn't speak English.

I'm thankful for Trey, too. Having a baby has given me greater appreciation and admiration for single parents. How do they do it?? I couldn't have asked for a better partner to take on this gargantuan task of raising a child with me. Not only does he provide for us so I can be home with Perrin, but he's also a pro at feeding, diapering, and making Perrin giggle like there's no tomorrow.

Thank you, God, for the amazing family you've given to me!

Mommy brain

Sometimes it's all I can do just to get through each day with me and Perrin both being cleaned, dressed, fed, and marginally happy. The days I actually get some office work done and clean the house are the super good days. Then there are days like today in which I superglue my hand to a piece of felt and my husband informs me that Perrin has had his shirt on backwards all day.

Does being a mom kill brain cells? Some days I seriously feel about as smart as a clod of dirt. I used to feel like I was pretty smart. Maybe my brain has atrophied somewhere between the 5,000th round of patty cake and the latest diaper explosion. Or maybe now I'm finally smart enough to realize I'm really not as smart as I always thought I was.

Nom nom nom

Perrin is starting to realize that there's better food out there than the mushy goo he's used to getting. I can't sit down near him with a meal or even a snack without him pulling up on my leg and looking up at me with his sweet baby eyes, begging for a taste. How can I say no? I've let him try my tuna sandwiches, baked beans, fresh fruit, potatoes... pretty much anything that's not a choking hazard or coated in sugar. So far he really hasn't met a grown-up food he doesn't like.

But like all babies, he also tries to eat plenty of inedible things. Today we were at WalMart and I heard him smacking his lips. I looked down, and my grocery list had a big bite taken out of the corner. Unfortunately, that's not the first time he's eaten paper... I've had to learn to keep my magazines out of reach. To me, they're reading material; to Perrin, they're a buffet.

He's also been trying his best to get his hands (and mouth) on one of Molly's rawhide chews. So far I've managed to keep him from getting a taste, but considering how Molly will leave those things tucked away in various hiding spots throughout the house, I'm betting it's only a matter of time before Perrin comes across one.

I wonder when this stage of eating everything will pass. For now, I know that's just how he experiences the world--by tasting it. Too bad we don't live in a Willy Wonka world... I've had that song stuck in my head all day. ("You can even eat the dishes....")

Daddy and Bubba

Perrin has become quite talkative these days. His favorite word is "Dada." The thing is, I'm not sure if he knows what that means and is saying it intentionally. I know he's starting to understand words--I can say "ball," and he'll pick up his ball. I can say, "help me turn off the light," and he'll reach over and try to flip the light switch. So I'm sure he knows what I mean when I say "Daddy," and I think it's very possible that when he says "Dada," he's also talking about that tall, funny guy who's always hanging around.

For some reason, he's not as proficient at saying "Mama." At least, not when he's trying to say it in association with me. I think he's come up with a different word for me: Bubba.

Unfortunately, the mental image I get of "Bubba" is a flannel-wearing redneck with a beer in hand. ::sigh:: I hope he masters the difference between his B's and M's soon. Until then, Perrin is the only one allowed to call me Bubba.

Funny food

I think we have a class clown on our hands...

Danger zone

When Trey and I first brought Perrin home from the hospital, I remember thinking he was so incredibly fragile and that I would have to really stay vigilant to keep our precious baby safe. But here's a discovery I've recently made: the amount of danger a newborn is in pales in comparison to the amount of danger he's in once he starts crawling. It's really not that hard to protect a newborn. But a crawler? That's a whole other story. If he's not eating the laptop cord or pulling a lamp down on top of him, he's bonking his head for the 50th time on the coffee table.

Speaking of bonking his head... today he decided to try pulling himself up to a standing position using our ottoman. Even though I know he's not quite ready for that yet, I decided to let him try. How else will he learn to do it if he can't practice? And the ottoman's nice and cushy, and I was watching him from a few feet away. Safe as can be, right? Wrong. He pulled himself up to his knees, then for some reason let go of the ottoman. He fell like a tree, sideways, and smacked his head hard on the wood floor. I rushed over and scooped him up and kissed him and cuddled him until he stopped crying. Poor darling.

Then I sat him back on the floor, away from the ottoman so he wouldn't be tempted to try his stunt again. He wiggled his way over to the coffee table. No big deal. Then he suddenly lunged up onto all fours and hit his head on the underside of the table. Once again, he collapsed into tears on the floor. Poor, poor baby. We had put cushy corner attachments on our coffee table about a week ago. But I didn't really think to baby-proof the underside of it.

So, I'm really tempted to get Perrin one of those baby helmets that I used to think were just ridiculous. That, or strap pillows to him every morning and make him into a crawling marshmallow. Until I figure out how exactly to keep my little crawler safe, please don't be alarmed if you see him covered in bumps and bruises. I really am doing the best I can.

Look out, world!

Perrin is crawling. Crawling!! He's been on the verge of it for the past couple of weeks, and he suddenly just figured it out today and took off. SO CUTE!

First he crawled over to Jack, my parents' dog, and tried to pull his hair. Jack ran away. So Perrin crawled over to the bookcase and began knocking over picture frames. I set those safely out of reach, so he began pulling out books instead and even ripped out a couple of pages from one (luckily, it was a Curious George book, so nothing terribly important). Then he crawled to the basket of remote controls and threw those on the floor. (I scooped them up before he could re-program the TV to Spanish.) Hmmm... maybe this crawling business isn't as fun as I thought it was going to be.

Our little tiger

Today's pictures are dedicated to my dad, a die-hard Detroit Tigers fan. Maybe Perrin could be their mascot?

Childhood innocence? Hardly...

William Blake is famous for his Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience poetry. To give a simplified explanation of his views, I'd say that he believes children are born innocent, then life happens and they grow into experienced (and often bitter, cynical, jaded, corrupt) adults.

Blake is a gifted writer, but there's one thing I strongly disagree with him about (actually, there are several things, but we won't go into all of them right now). Children are so NOT innocent. They're little heathens. And my little sinner is already showing me evidence of the selfish human nature he was born with.

Today, for example, Perrin scooted himself across the floor and found my laptop power cord. He reached out for it to take a little taste, and I grabbed it away from him and said firmly, "No." We did this about five times, and when Perrin realized I really wasn't going to change my mind, he flopped on his back, threw his arms and legs out, and screamed as if I'd shot him with an arrow or something. (On a side note, I didn't think I'd have to deal with temper tantrums until he was at least two or so... I guess we're getting an early start. ::sigh::)

I know some people would say, "But he's just a baby; it's not like he knows that he's doing something wrong." That's sort of true. But he knew he wanted to eat the power cord. He knew I didn't want to let him eat the power cord. And he threw a fit because he didn't get his way. Does that sound innocent? I don't think so. Granted, in the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. But it's interesting to see that a baby who can't even walk or talk or feed himself can still exert his self-will.

I love my little sinner. He's cute and smart and wonderful. But he's not innocent.

When tragic things happen

A friend of mine lost her husband in a car accident a few days ago. She's a stay-at-home mom with a two-year-old boy and a three-month-old baby girl. I can't imagine what she's going through. She's not only grieving for herself, but for her children who will grow up without their father.

When I hear about things like this, I can't help but wonder what if that happens to me? I really have a hard time figuring out exactly how I should respond or what perspective I should have. I feel like I could never, ever go through something like that--I'm just not strong enough. And yet I know that God would give me supernatural strength to go through the pain, as I know He must be doing for Sabrina now. Still, who wants to have to go through anything that requires that kind of strength?

There's a verse in Ecclesiastes that says that the day of death is better than the day of birth. Truthfully, that verse used to really make me angry. How could a day of death be better than a day of birth? I think about the joy I had when Perrin was born, and I compare that to the sadness of a funeral. It's a clear choice in my mind.

But the verse goes on to say, "For death is the destiny of every man, and the living take it to heart." So that's the explanation: It's better to go "to a house of mourning than of feasting" because it makes us think about the temporary nature of life. Depressing? Yeah, most definitely, if you think that death is the end or if you're not sure what happens when you die. Otherwise, I think it helps us appreciate what we have in life now and be thankful that, in Christ, there really are no goodbyes.

God doesn't prevent every bad thing from happening. Tragedy is just part of living in a broken, fallen world. But as followers of Christ, we have the promise of comfort and strength to get through it now and the knowledge that one day "he will wipe every tear from our eyes." Not to mention that when bad things happen, God shows up in a mighty way. I'm thinking of some examples right now and smiling in amazement. I know God has some big plans for Sabrina. It's not the life she would have chosen, undoubtedly, but I know he'll use this in her life to bring about something good and beautiful.

We can't go through life always worrying about the "what ifs." It's tempting when we hear about tragedies like this to succumb to fear and wear helmets and bullet-proof vests and call our loved ones every five seconds when they're traveling to make sure they're still alive. But what kind of life is that?

I'm praying daily for Sabrina. She has a very tough road ahead of her. But I'm thankful she has a strong faith in the only one who can provide for her, protect her from a life of fear, and carry her through safely to the other side.

Lessons in crawling

Perrin is sooooo close to crawling. He pushes himself up on all fours and rocks back and forth like he's trying to figure out how to make his legs take him places. This past week, he figured out that he could push with his arms and slide himself backwards across our wood floors. So while I can't technically say he's crawling, he's definitely mobile. On the down side, he's discovered our DVD player and has an overwhelming temptation to mash the buttons. But the good news is our floors are looking cleaner every day!

Today he took it a step further... watch and enjoy!

Ugh

I've enjoyed almost all of Perrin's "firsts"--his first smile, first big boy bath, first laugh, first time to roll over, etc. But we're going through a not-so-fun "first" right now--his first cold.

He's almost 7 months old, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. I chalk it up to the wonders of breast milk that we've gotten this far without so much as a sniffle. But alas... our baby is now sick. And cranky. And covered in snot. (Seriously... I found a huge booger in his hair after getting him out of his crib this morning. I can only assume he sneezed and then rolled in it.)

I feel so helpless. There's just not much you can do for a sick infant except for suction his nose and cuddle him and pray that he recovers quickly. In the meantime, we're all miserable and sleepless. Plus I have this strange and irrational temptation to keep vigil by his crib all night long to make sure he's really going to be okay.

Having a sick baby is so sad. On the bright side, at least we're not both sick. Although I've probably just jinxed myself.

Sneaky, sneaky

Our pediatrician recommended that we start giving Perrin a vitamin supplement occasionally to make sure that he's getting enough iron. So we went out and bought infant vitamin drops for him. The only problem is he HATES it. I mentioned that little problem to doctor Davis, and she recommended that I mix it into applesauce to help mask the flavor. It worked! He made a funny face at first, but he was a good boy and ate all of his applesauce. Score one for mommy!

Funny thing is, I do the same thing for Trey. For example, we have some cauliflower in the freezer right now. Trey swore to me he wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole. So I steamed it, mashed it, and mixed it into mashed potatoes. Trey ate every bite. Score one for wifey!

I just have to make sure the two most important guys in my life are getting all the nutrition they need. So if I have to be a bit sneaky about it, so be it. And if anyone else has good ideas for masking veggies, send them my way! (Just don't tell Trey!)

Geek in training

Trey and I really enjoy technology, so it only makes sense that our son would follow in our footsteps. He is absolutely fascinated with my laptop. I downloaded a program for him called baby smash that lets him smash away on my keyboard while fun letters and shapes show up all over the screen. The only bad thing is that the last time he was playing it, I looked down after a while and realized I was missing the "H" key. I managed to extract it from his clenched fist and reattach it, but I'm a bit more diligent about watching him during these smash sessions.

Anyway, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to post some pictures of our little tech wiz:

Fun and games

Perrin is becoming more and more playful the older he gets. He likes some of the classic games like peek-a-boo and patty cake. But his favorite games are the ones he invented himself. Here are a few of the games he loves the most:

• The "throw the toy on the floor over and over to see how many times Mommy will pick it up" game
• The "pull Mommy's hair when she bends down to give me a kiss just to see if she'll say ouch" game
• The "pull the dog's hair" game, or it's sequel, "pull the dog's ears"
• The "make lots of big splashes in the bathtub" game--bonus points for covering the bathroom floor in water
• The "roll across the floor" game--the only problem is Mommy keeps putting me back at the starting point
• The "pull the tissues out of the box and try to eat them" game
• The "try to grab the bowl of food while Mommy is feeding me" game--followed by smearing the food all over my face, clothes, and high chair when I succeed
• The "make lots of weird noises" game--especially fun when Mommy makes weird noises back
• The "try to eat the book while Mommy is reading it to me" game

Next step: Monopoly!

Is that the same baby I had yesterday?

Everyone who's ever had a baby knows that they grow and change quickly. I've noticed a couple of changes in Perrin in just the last week or so.

First off, Perrin has a tooth coming in. I can feel it barely poking through the surface of his bottom gum. My first reaction was, "Yay! A tooth!" My next reaction, in anticipation of his increased fussiness, was "Oh no, a tooth!" My last reaction was a little more surprising: I felt sad. Never again will he smile up at me with his toothless baby grin. I'm sure his one-tooth smile will be just as cute, but it's kind of sad to realize that we're passing through stages that I'll never get to experience with him again. In some cases, that's a good thing. (So long, sleepless nights. I don't miss you in the least.) But I wonder if I'm really appreciating and enjoying each stage as much as I can, knowing that it'll go by all too quickly.

The other change I've noticed is that he's become much more talkative and is making all kinds of new sounds. He can even say Mama! Okay, it's actually more like mamamamamama. And he's never actually said it to me... only to Trey. But still. Is it too early for me to gloat that his first word was Mama? :)

Just this morning I laid him down on the floor with a frog toy just out of his reach. I said, "You can get it, Perrin! Just stretch out and grab it!" He was babbling away, and I swear it sounded like he said, "I can't get it." I cracked up.

As sad as it may be to see my little baby growing up, it's exciting too. Besides, if he weren't growing and changing, what else would I have to blog about? :)

Battle of the wills

Perrin is a nap fighter. He sleeps pretty well through the night, but during the day we're in a constant battle of the wills when it's time for him to take a snooze. Some days are easier than others. Some days (like yesterday), are terrible.

I tried putting him down for his morning nap at 9:00. He almost always goes back to sleep for an hour or so right around that time, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. But I was particularly anxious to get him in bed because I had a couple of work-related things that needed to be done immediately. Wouldn't you know it--on the day that it's most important for him to take that morning nap, he cries on and off for two and a half hours. Two and a half hours!!! Of crying!!! I was ready to poke a pitchfork into my brain after about the first hour of it. I tried rocking him, feeding him, changing him, burping him, etc. All the normal things. Then I wondered if he was having some teething pain, so I swabbed his gums with baby orajel. (Oh, man... he didn't like that. The cries turned into screams). Then I tried some less traditional methods to get him to stop crying. First, I took him into the bathroom and sat him on the sink and let him dip his feet under the running faucet. He liked it. So that stopped him from crying for awhile. Then later I took off his clothes and let him roll around in just his diaper. He liked that too. (On a side note, do all babies like being naked, or is it just mine?)

Finally, finally, glory hallelujah, he fell asleep. I was so relieved that I could finally get some stuff done. Unfortunately, by that point I was really too tired to be productive. ::Sigh::

Perrin's got talent

Looking back

With summer in full swing, I've been thinking a lot lately about what last summer was like for me. I was just starting to spread the news that I was pregnant. My jeans were getting tighter, I was throwing up nearly every morning, and February seemed like such a loooong time to wait for the baby to get here. At times, I actually really enjoyed being pregnant... but last summer was NOT one of those times. I remember one morning, I opened the fridge to find some breakfast and I saw a packet of ranch dressing. Then I turned around and hurled in the sink. Because of a stupid packet of ranch dressing! (By the way, I really like ranch dressing. Why it was so gross to me that morning, I'll never know. Pregnancy makes you weird... that's the only explanation).

Well, February came a lot sooner than I was expecting it to, and as much as pregnancy changed my life, nothing has changed my life as much as having a baby and taking care of him day in and day out. And as tough as morning sickness and first-trimester fatigue are, they are nothing compared to caring for an infant. So I have to say that this summer is even tougher than last summer.

It's strange to think about how much my life has changed in a year. But I'm glad it has. Perrin's sitting on my lap trying to help me type, and he's just so cute and sweet! Yeah, he's a lot of work. And sometimes he's cranky and irritating and won't go to sleep. And he poops a lot and spits up on my clothes and sometimes cries for no reason. But he's the best baby in the whole world. I even forgive him for making me throw up so much last year.

Monkey boy

Now that Perrin is 5 months old, we've decided to start him on a little rice cereal to see how he likes it and to get him used to eating food from a spoon. He tried it for the first time last week and LOVED it. He kept trying to steal the spoon away from me, and when I wouldn't hand it over, he lunged toward the food like he was starving.

Thanks to my mom, who is always trying to sneak him a taste of this or that, we've discovered something he loves even more than rice cereal--bananas. So today as a little treat, instead of giving him rice cereal, I mashed up a bit of banana and thinned it with breast milk. His eyes were wide with excitement after the first bite. If I didn't feed him fast enough, he started whimpering. And oh, the mess... banana paste was everywhere. (How exactly did it wind up on my shoulder??) And when all the banana was gone, he was absolutely livid! He screamed at me as I tried my best to wash him up. I had to go distract him with some toys to get his mind off the banana.

Temper tantrum aside, I'm kind of looking forward to introducing him to some other foods soon. But somehow I don't think he's going to get as excited over green beans.

Dedication Day

Sunday was Perrin's baby dedication at church. It was great--very special and meaningful. Not to mention Perrin looked ADORABLE in his suit and tie. We bought it specifically for his dedication, but now I'm trying to think of other excuses for him to get all dressed up. Babies can wear suits to the grocery store, right? And to the library, and to visit Grandma, and at the park?

On a more serious note, it's kind of starting to hit me just how big of a responsibility we have ahead of us as parents. I feel so blessed to have Perrin, but I feel inadequate too--probably as most parents do. Am I going to be able to do enough to help him grow spiritually, physically, emotionally, and intellectually? I guess the short answer is no--I'll never reach that magical place of "enough." But I just have to trust that God will fill in where I fall short as a parent.

Big weekend for a little baby

This has been quite a full (but good) holiday weekend. We took Perrin to his 4 month checkup on Friday (we're a couple weeks behind, but oh well). He weighs 15 lbs 3 oz, which is somewhere in the 50-75th percentile, and he's 28'' long, which, according to our doctor, is once again "off the charts." Just how tall is this boy going be??

Friday night, Perrin spent the night at my parents' house for the first time ever... without us. He seemed to do fine. I, on the other hand, couldn't seem to think or talk about anything besides Perrin for the 15 hours we were apart. Trey and I started our evening alone with a trip to Target (where I looked at baby books and baby clothes), then we had an art night at home (where I painted a watercolor picture of a giant letter P and a baby moose). Then I dreamed about Perrin all night and woke up at 7 AM to call my dad and see how my baby was doing. You'd think I kind of like him, or something.

Saturday night, we took Perrin to his first ever fireworks show. He seemed quite a bit more interested in the street lights than the fireworks, strangely enough. But at least he didn't cry.

We also got Perrin laughing really hard this weekend for the first time. He's given us a couple of tiny chuckles here and there, but he really got the giggles watching Trey stomp around and make funny faces and noises. I was partly laughing at Perrin's cute baby laugh, and partly laughing at how ridiculous Trey looked. Note to self: must have camcorder handy next time.

Sleeping baby

Ahhh... Perrin's taking a nap right now. I really should use the free time to get some work done or do a load of laundry or something. But I just can't seem to pry myself off the couch. It feels so good not to do anything for a few minutes! Plus, I'm tired. Perrin woke up at 1:00 this morning singing. Well, that's what I call it anyway because I'm not sure how else to describe it. He was obviously in a very happy mood and was delighting himself with his newly acquired vocal range. It would have been super cute if it wasn't 1:00 in the morning.

Nap times have gotten interesting. Perrin can't crawl yet... supposedly... but I think maybe he really can and he just hides that fact from us while he's awake. I'll put him down in a certain place in his crib facing a certain direction, and by the time he wakes up, he's in a completely different spot facing the opposite direction. How does he do it? I'm tempted to leave a camcorder on while he's napping. He's apparently much more mobile than I give him credit for. I have noticed that he's getting to where he can scoot himself across the floor a bit. He sticks his bottom way up in the air and pushes with his feet. It looks really funny! I guess that's probably how he's moving around in his crib.

He also drools an insane amount and leaves these giant spit puddles on his sheets. I'm a little afraid he's going to dehydrate. Or drown.

The lengths we'll go to for a date

Trey and I used to go on dates a lot. So that's one thing that we REALLY miss now that we're parents. It's not that we never go on dates anymore; we just don't get to do it frequently, and it takes a lot more planning. And sometimes, it takes a little desperation.

A couple weeks ago, our church had a game night. The grand prize for the person with the most points at the end of the night was a $25 restaurant gift card. Trey and I were determined to win.

If you've ever seen the TV show "Minute to Win it," that's what these games were like. We balanced cookies on our foreheads and had to get them to our mouths only using the muscles in our face (for the record, I ate 3 and Trey ate 5. Not too shabby!) We sorted M&Ms by color using chopsticks and transferred M&Ms from one container to another by sucking them up with straws. We unrolled a roll of toilet paper around ourselves as quickly as we could. And, my personal favorite, we acted like elephants and knocked over cans:

Yes, my husband is wearing pantyhose on his head with a tennis ball inside. And yes, I got his permission before I posted these pics.

I'm happy to report that for all of our efforts, we emerged victorious and won the gift card. So we went on a date last weekend, and it didn't cost us a thing! (Well, except for our dignity.)

The ups and downs of a stay-at-home mom

I used to have a somewhat heightened perception of what it would be like to be a stay-at-home mom. I mean, I knew it wasn't all sunshine and smiles and luxurious naps, but I definitely thought it would be easier than working full time. Guess what: it's NOT! I don't regret my decision at all, but this is one tough job! Here are a few things that make this a crazy hard job:

1. I miss out on things. Today, for example, Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife were at FamilyLife to talk to our staff and lead them in a time of worship. I keep hearing how amazing and wonderful and funny they were. Dang, I wish I could have been there. But I don't think the sound of Perrin's wailing would have made a good accompaniment to SCC's voice.

2. I get lonely. I talk to Perrin all day long, but he's really not the best conversationalist. I'm so attention-starved by the time Trey gets home that I talk 300 miles an hour about all the mundane things I did all day long. "I changed Perrin's diaper, then we went for a walk, then he was really cranky so I rocked him until he fell asleep, and then I checked my e-mails and caught up on some work stuff. Oh, and then he woke up and I fed him, and then we read a book, and then I made some lunch...." I can usually see Trey's eyes glazing over by the time I'm about halfway through my monologue. But I can't help it. I NEED to talk to someone. Even if I have absolutely nothing to say.

3. I don't get to have weekends. Perrin doesn't care if it's Saturday--he's still going to wake up at the crack of dawn and want me to get him out of his crib. He's still going to cry and need me to change his diapers and feed him and give him attention all day. He certainly never asks me if I need a break.

Whew... as tough as this is, I really don't see how moms do it when they have to take care of a baby on top of working 40 hours a week. And single moms--wow. That's all I can say... wow.

Sometimes Perrin makes it all worth it though--like when I get him out of his crib in the morning and he's so smiley and happy to see me. Or when he does something cute, like making a new sound that he's never made before, and looks up at me and grins like he's so proud of himself. And when he kicks and splashes in the water during bath time and I can just tell he's having a ball. Yeah, I guess he's worth it all.

Rockin' and rollin'... and eatin'

Last week was a big week for Perrin. For one thing, he learned to roll over from his back to his stomach. Now, any time we put him down, it's only a matter of seconds before he rolls onto his tummy. (And then starts crying when he realizes he doesn't like being on his tummy that much). Now if only we could get him to do it on command, then he'd be just about caught up with Molly!

For another thing, I gave Perrin his first ever baby food item. It was a rice husk, and he gobbled it down. He was so cute that when I gave him his second taste of one today, I decided to document it for your viewing pleasure. Assuming your viewing pleasure involves watching my child do something really mundane like eat.

Enjoy! (Or not... I won't make you watch it. I know he's a lot funnier and cuter to me than to anyone else. Except for Trey--he has to watch it. And my mom. Heck, you all do.)

Summer fun

Given how much Perrin likes taking baths, my parents decided he needed a pool. So they went out and bought him one. I was imagining a tiny kiddie pool that I could barely fit my big toe in. But no--this is a mammoth kiddie pool: 8 feet in diameter and nearly 3 feet deep. They bought him a floatie too so I wouldn't have to hold him the whole time (but given the giganticness of the pool, I actually feel a little more comfortable holding him anyway).

We dipped Perrin's feet in it the first day, and he didn't like the cold water and immediately starting crying. So sad. But after just a couple days of the pool sitting out in the sun, it was a nice temperature, and we tested it out again. Perrin seemed to really like it! At least, he didn't cry this time.

Here he is, all cute in his floatie.

Around town

I've discovered that I actually really enjoy running errands with Perrin. For one thing, it gets us out of the house--a welcome change of routine these days. For another, Perrin is just so adorable that I want to show him off to everyone--the bank teller, the Wal-Mart cashier, the post office clerk. I feel like a little kid holding up my artwork and saying, "See what I made? Pretty stinkin' amazing, huh?"

Maybe not everyone is quite as enthralled with him as I am. But I do have lots of old ladies ooh and aah over him. The other day we were grocery shopping together and a nice elderly lady told me he was gorgeous (yes, I know) and asked me how much I would take for him. (I considered telling her she could have him all night long for free, but I restrained myself. Besides, he's really not that bad at night anymore. Most of the time.)

Extra bonus: Even if Perrin is having a bad day, he almost never cries when he's in his car seat or stroller. I almost hate to even mention this in case I jinx myself, but so far it's the truth.

I think I'm almost ready to attempt taking him to the movie theater. Trey has to work late all next month, so I'm thinking of going to a matinee with Perrin on a weekday. If I'm brave enough to actually give it a whirl, I'll let you know how it goes.

Fun stuff

Reason #547 it's fun to be a mom:

Watching father/son play sessions.

Confessions of a cheapskate

Trey and I made a major financial sacrifice when we decided I would quit working full time and stay home with Perrin. We've had to drastically reduce our spending, which means no more eating out, no more shopping trips for fun, no more weekend getaways, etc. It's tough, but totally worth it. I LOVE being home with Perrin. Even if it does mean eating ramen noodles for dinner. :)

Recently I read an article about the world's cheapest people. They recommend doing things like cutting your dryer sheets into fourths so the box will last four times as long. For annual savings of what, $3.50 a year?

Trey and I haven't gone to that extreme quite yet, but we are discovering some ways to save money. For one thing, we're doing the Angel Food Ministries program, which allows anyone to buy a box of food that's designed to feed a family of four for a week for $30. Can't beat $30 for a week's worth of groceries. Smart, huh? That's what I'm telling myself... not cheap, just smart.

But some of our other money-saving strategies are definitely starting to fall on the cheapskate side of things. For example, instead of buying Perrin toys, we take him to Wal-Mart and play with the toys there. He smiles and makes cute faces, then we put the toys back on the shelves and leave with a happy baby and wallets untouched. Smart? Or cheap? Or perhaps even a tad cruel?

Oh well. If Perrin could talk, I think he would agree that playing with toys at Wal-Mart instead of at home is a sacrifice he's also willing to make to have his mommy home with him all the time. Even Trey, who has typically been more spend-y than I am, is starting to embrace his inner cheapskate. He's gotten really good at picking out the cheapest brand of dog food. (Sorry, Molly. We love you, but you are a dog, after all.)

Gotta go... I need to grab some scissors and get to work on those dryer sheets. :)

Living in the present

Throughout my pregnancy, I kept looking forward to the next big milestone. I couldn't wait to feel the baby move, then I couldn't wait to find out if we were having a boy or girl, then I couldn't wait to just get the boy out of me. I had a hard time enjoying the present because I was focused more on whatever was coming next. Now that Perrin is here, I find myself doing the same thing. I can't wait for him to crawl because he'll be soooo cute; I can't wait for him to walk so I don't have to carry him everywhere; I can't wait for him to talk so he can tell me what he wants; etc, etc.

But at the same time, I don't want to wish away the time too quickly. He won't be our tiny newborn baby for long. He's already grown so much. I'm making a new goal to just revel in whatever stage he's in and not try to wish it away too quickly.

So here's where we are: Perrin has recently learned to blow spit bubbles and has discovered his right foot. I'm very proud. :)

Back to work

I'm officially a working mom. (Yay?) Yesterday was my first day to go back to the office. I popped in for three hours to pick up some files and talk to my boss about some projects and duties I'll be taking over. All of which I can do from home! :)

So far, so good--I put Perrin down for his morning nap around 8:30 and got two full hours of work in. My goal is ten hours a week. It's only Tuesday and I'm halfway there. I think this just might work out! Working from home is AWESOME--I can wear pajamas, munch on grapes, and listen to music as I type up articles and process orders. And if Perrin wakes up crying, I'll just clock out and try to get more done later. I was pretty worried about going back to work and trying to balance that with taking care of Perrin. But these first two days have been great! Don't have a heart attack, but I think I actually missed working. We'll see how long that lasts....

Things I said I'd never do

Before Perrin was born, I used to say I wasn't going to let him watch TV until he was at least 2--and then, only on rare occasions. I didn't want the passive stimulation of television to inhibit his development in any way. (All the other parents reading this are already laughing, huh?) Yeah, so guess how long that lasted? About two weeks. I was having a really rough day with Perrin and I finally plopped him down on a blanket on the floor and turned on a baby DVD that someone had given us. I just needed a few minutes away from him to breathe deeply. But after a few minutes, I realized he wasn't crying. I peeked around the corner at him and saw him deeply engrossed in the colors and shapes bouncing across the TV screen.

Needless to say, I have reformed my wayward opinions about the television. It's a God-send!

So now I'm wondering how many of my other good intentions are going to go the way of the dinosaurs. I had all kinds of ideas about things I would or wouldn't do:

"I'm going to teach Perrin baby sign language!"
"I'm not going to rock Perrin to sleep because I want him to learn to fall asleep on his own."
"I'm going to read Perrin a book every night so he'll develop an early love for reading."
"I'm not going to give Perrin a pacifier because I don't want it to affect his teeth."

And on, and on, and on. But my visions of "good parenting" are rapidly becoming "good enough parenting." And you know what? I don't even feel guilty about it. I was probably placing too high of expectations not only on myself, but on him as well. So what if we have to rock him to sleep every night? He's so warm and snuggly and cute, and he loves being rocked to sleep. So what if he never learns baby sign language? I can usually figure out what he needs anyway. He's happy, well fed, and well loved. That qualifies for good enough in my (slightly reformed) opinion.

Romance? Yes, I vaguely remember the concept...

Everyone says that romance takes a nosedive when you have a baby in the house. And it's no wonder--when you're sleep deprived, covered in spit-up, and wearing sweat pants 24/7 because those darn pre-pregnancy pants are still too tight, you're not going to want to do much of anything with those few precious moments of time away from the baby except take a hot shower and go to sleep.

But I definitely realize the importance of making our marriage a priority, especially now that we have a baby. So last weekend, I surprised Trey with a date. He thought we were going over to my parents' house to help them tile their porch (just what he wants to do on his Saturday), but really we were just going over there to drop off Perrin. Once I let Trey in on the secret, we went out for dinner and saw the movie "How to Train Your Dragon." (Totally romantic, I know. But I picked this one because Trey kept saying he wanted to see it. And it was pretty good, if not exactly the epitome of romance.) Then we went to the driving range and attempted to hit golf balls. (I say "attempted" because it's way harder than it looks to make contact with the ball. And actually hitting it out into the field rather than straight up in the air or bouncing it off the grass three feet in front of you? Well, that's grounds for celebration).

But alas, date night had to end. All of our focus once again returned to our baby. But it felt so good just to get away for a little while--just the two of us to spend time together and laugh our heads off at how bad we are at golfing. I think if we can manage to do something like this every once in a while, we just might keep our sanity. And maybe someday, romance won't be quite so elusive. And right about then, when life has settled into a comfortably normal routine and we've finally gotten the hang of balancing family time and romantic time, I'm guessing God will decide it's time for us to have another baby.

Perrin and the popsicle

Disclaimer: If you're the type of person who thinks it's bad parenting to give a baby a few tiny tastes of a low-calorie, real fruit popsicle, please do not scroll down any further.

Okay, so I couldn't resist. He's just so darn cute! Enjoy...

Praise God for good days

Yesterday was probably about as good as a day with a newborn can get. Perrin woke up in a good mood, and while I took a shower, he sat in the bathroom in his car seat and grinned at Trey's towel. (On a side note, we'd tried all morning to get him to smile at us before Trey left for work, but he just stared at us, wide-eyed. It's kind of sad that a towel was the clear winner, but oh well.) After I fed him, we went for a stroll around the block. It was a gorgeous day, and Perrin enjoyed looking around at the trees and at various parts of the stroller. (Again, I'm not sure what the appeal is there, but hey, as long as it keeps him occupied...)

He took a nice, long nap around noon so I was able to eat lunch and get a few things done around the house. When he woke up, I took him on the deck and read a book while he sat in his seat in the shade and watched Molly. Then I took him inside and laid down with him on a blanket on the floor and made funny faces at him. He made funny faces back and even smiled at me a few times.

Around dinner time, I put him in his swing, and he didn't put up a fight about it at all. Once again, I got to eat a meal without him screaming! Then it was time for a bath. Perrin LOVES bath time. He wasn't so fond of sponge baths, but stick him down in a tub full of warm water and he's as happy as can be! I climbed in with him and scrubbed him up really good.

I fed him one last time around 8:30, and Trey rocked him to sleep and put him down in his crib. He fell asleep fairly quickly and slept for six and a half glorious hours before waking up hungry. Not too shabby for a six-week-old. Now if only he'd have days like this more often...

Scary times

When I was pregnant, a lot of people told me what it would be like to have a baby. They said it would be hard; they said it would be fun. They'd said I'd be sleep deprived, that I'd change more diapers than I could imagine, and that it would all be so worth it. One thing nobody told me was how absolutely terrifying it is to be a parent. You have this tiny, helpless person who is so dependent on you that you worry constantly for his safety. Then when something bad actually does happen, even if it's minor, it's really scary!

Example: Last night, Perrin got stung by a wasp. Trey and I absolutely freaked out. We felt like the worst parents ever that we would allow our little 5-week-old baby to get stung by a wasp. And we were truly worried for him. He screamed like a banshee while Trey dialed the after-hours number to get in touch with the nurse on call. I guess that number is technically supposed to be for emergencies, and while a wasp sting is not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things, we really just felt like we needed some assurance that it didn't mean instant death.

The nurse assured us that from our description, it didn't sound as if he was having an allergic reaction. And we managed to get him calmed down within about 20 minutes. Wonder of wonders, he even fell asleep soon afterwards.

When I think about the next 18 years and how many times I'm going to freak out about Perrin's well-being, I get really tired. I was totally flipping out, even though a wasp sting isn't really a big deal. Even so, if you see a wasp today, smash him for me. Smash him hard.

Where's the mute button?!

Our sweet baby has given us quite a challenging week. For one thing, I think he might be going through a growth spurt, because he suddenly wants to nurse constantly. Pretty much every hour when he's awake. It's exhausting! (I'm actually typing this one-handed as I feed him. Impressed with my multi-tasking abilities? I am.) For another thing, he's been awake a lot more this week, and when he hasn't been nursing, he's been crying. I can usually get him to settle down for a while, but as soon as I put him down, he starts up again. Trey and I have tried all kinds of tactics to keep from losing our sanity:

1. Bribery. "Perrin, what do you want? I'll give you anything you want. Do you want a pony? I'll buy you a pony if you'll just stop crying and go to sleep!" (I really did say this to Perrin, but he didn't keep up his end of the bargain on that particular night, so no pony).

2. Humor. Sometimes I really just have to try not to take the situation too seriously, or I'll want to pull my hair out. I'll say something like, "Perrin, I'm going to put you to bed now, and I don't want your evil twin taking over and waking me up in an hour. Okay? Okay." (Of course, it's not so funny when the "evil twin" really does wake up screaming an hour later.)

3. Prayer: Along the lines of "Dear Lord, HEEEEEEEEELP!"

4. Going down "the list": Feed him. Change him. Burp him. Swaddle him. Carry him. Jiggle him. Sing to him. Rock him. By the end of the night, he may not be ready for bed, but we sure are!

Good thing he's so cute... it's impossible to stay irritated with him for long.

Hello, my name is Food

Sometimes I wonder if Perrin has any idea that I'm his mom. Does he distinguish me from all the other people who pick him up and cuddle him? Maybe not. One thing I'm pretty sure about--he does recognize that I'm his source of food. But I hope he thinks of me as more than just food.

Trey doesn't help with this much... sometimes when he gets Perrin out of his crib in the morning, he'll carry him to me and say, "Look, Perrin! There's Breakfast! Let's go say hi to Breakfast!"

It's weird but true. I am breakfast. And lunch and dinner and about 8 other meals in between. To tell the truth, it's quite amazing the way a woman's body is designed to be able to provide the most perfect, nutritious, beneficial meal possible to her baby. But it's also a thankless, time-consuming, and sometimes painful job.

Someday Perrin will recognize me as his mom. Someday he'll love me for more than just the food I provide him. Until then, just call me Breakfast.

A day with a newborn

I always wondered what exactly it would be like to take care of a baby day in and day out. For all my childless friends out there who wonder the same thing, here's how my day usually goes:

12 AM:Change and feed Perrin and attempt to go back to sleep.

3 AM: Change and feed Perrin and attempt to go back to sleep.

6 AM: Change and feed Perrin and attempt to go back to sleep.

7 AM-9 AM: Perrin usually sleeps pretty well through the morning, so I sleep in too. I've always been a morning person and generally never slept past 7 or 7:30. Those days are gone. If Perrin is sleeping in, I'm sleeping in.

9 AM: Time to get out of bed. Hopefully Perrin is still sleeping, which gives me a little time to take a shower before he wakes up ready to eat again.

9:15 AM: It's inevitable: halfway through the shower, Perrin wakes up crying. I rinse off, jump out of the shower, speed dry, and rush into the nursery. He's in desperate need of a diaper change and acts like he hasn't eaten in ages. Oh, and he's managed to leak through his diaper, so I change his clothes too. And his sheets.

10 AM: Perrin is clean and fed. I'd really like to finish getting dressed, brush my teeth, and grab a quick bite to eat for breakfast... or at least a glass of juice if breakfast is out of the question. Perrin is wide awake and not interested in staying in his crib. I attempt to put him in his swing, but he's been alone all night and is ready to be held and cuddled... and what the boss wants, the boss gets.

10 AM-12 PM: I check a few emails, catch up with friends on Facebook,and read the news online. I mostly do it one-handed so I can hold Perrin. This will be easier once he can hold his head up on his own. I take breaks from the computer to change him and feed him again. If he gets fussy, I'll walk around the house with him. That seems to calm him down.

12:30 PM: He's asleep! Praise the Lord! I may or may not have had time for breakfast, but either way, I'm hungry. I grab a quick bite to eat, and since Perrin is still asleep, I also throw together a load of laundry and run the dishwasher. If he's still asleep after all that, I just might sit down to do something mundane and enjoyable, like reading or updating my blog.

2 PM: Perrin wakes up and needs to be changed and fed again.

3 PM: Tummy time! I place Perrin on a blanket on the floor and let him squirm around on his belly. It's good exercise for him and will help him develop the muscles he needs to crawl. He really looks like he's trying to go somewhere. Maybe he'll be an early crawler.

4 PM: Time to feed and change him again.

4:30 PM: Trey is home! Time for some father-son snuggle time while I sort through the mail and do some light housework. If Trey's lucky, I might consider making something for dinner.

6 PM: We try to coax Perrin to sleep so that we can have a quiet dinner together. No such luck. I end up holding him with one hand (awkwardly) and eating with the other (also awkwardly... and trying my hardest not to drop food particles on Perrin's head). Some days he'll let us put him in his swing while we eat. Strange how much I enjoy just being able to savor my food and talk to Trey during dinner time--something I really took for granted before!

6:30 PM: Time to feed and change him again.

7:30 PM: Bath time! Perrin hates baths, but I love when he smells all clean and fresh. Plus he looks super cute bundled up in his hooded towel.

8:30 PM: We try to get Perrin to go to sleep for the night, but he's crying. We swaddle him, carry him around, feed him again, then let him snuggle in our bed with us while we read for a bit. If we're lucky, he'll get nice and sleepy and we can put him down for the night. If we're not lucky, we might end up carrying him around for quite awhile until he's cried enough to wear himself out. At some point, he does fall asleep.

That's my day in a nutshell. Taking care of a newborn is definitely a full-time job!

The unexpected

We've survived a little over a week with a newborn, and we must be doing an okay job as parents--Perrin seems to be a perfectly healthy, happy little baby. And I must say, I'm really enjoying being a mom! It's been a big adjustment though, obviously. And in some ways it's been different from what I expected it to be. Here are just a few examples.

I didn't expect...

1. That Perrin would always wait until we removed his diaper to decide to pee. I'd heard that baby boys would sometimes do this; I just didn't think we'd have to be on constant alert for it. It's a little embarrassing when we take him to the pediatrician for a weight check and he sprays down the entire room (including me and the diaper bag).

2. That I would keep forgetting we have a dog. People say that having a baby will make you love your pets less. But Trey and I talked a lot before Perrin was born about how we would make Molly feel like she's still a part of the family. We vowed we would pay her lots of attention and treat her extra nice while she was getting used to sharing the house with a baby. But I keep waking up in the morning and completely forgetting that there's a dog somewhere that needs to be fed and taken outside occasionally. Poor Molly.

3. That my life would be so consumed with nursing. Babies have to eat about every 2-3 hours.Perrin sometimes eats even more frequently than that, and since it takes a good 30 minutes each time, I feel like I'm feeding him constantly. The boy is going to be an eater...

4. That I would feel worried every time he sleeps for more than a couple hours and wonder if he's okay. Maybe it's just a jittery-new-parent thing, but I sometimes poke him a little until he moves just to make sure he's still alive and breathing. A couple months ago, I probably would have laughed at someone being so paranoid. But I caught Trey doing it today too, so I'm glad it's not just me.

5. That we would be blessed with the cutest, sweetest, most perfect little baby in the whole world! Okay, I might be a teensy bit biased, but seriously--Perrin is pretty special. I was always a little unsure about having kids. But I feel like Perrin is a gift that I never knew I always wanted.

Epidural--my new best friend

Our sweet little Perrin is finally here!! He's cute and healthy and a lot of fun (except when he's screaming in the middle of the night, of course). And I am REALLY happy to not be pregnant anymore.

Unfortunately, I had a really long and tough labor. In a nutshell: contractions HURT! If my labor had progressed quickly, I wouldn't have had to experience much pain before getting my epidural. But that wasn't the case... I had painful contractions for about 50 hours before I finally went into active labor. The contractions weren't causing me to dilate any further, so I had no choice but to suffer through them and pray that I would finally start making progress soon.

When I finally got my epidural around 1:00 AM Saturday morning (Feb 20th), I wanted to jump up and down with joy. (Of course, I couldn't do any jumping since I wasn't able to feel anything from the waist down). It was just such a relief to not feel pain anymore! Trey and I fell asleep and stayed that way for most of the night. The nurse came in and checked me every so often to let me know how far along I was. Then, around 6:30 AM, it was time to start pushing. I'll spare the gory details... but lets just say that poor Trey wasn't quite prepared for what he saw. (I told him not to watch. Did he listen to me? No. So it's not my fault that he nearly passed out).

Anyway, we survived. And Perrin is well worth the 9 months of pregnancy and a long, tough labor. He's snuggled up on Trey's chest right now, sleeping. So cute!

Natural induction

It's the wee hours of the morning, and once again, I can't sleep. I am sooooo ready for this pregnancy stuff to be over with. Don't tell my doctor, but I've been doing some research online to learn things I could do to help induce labor. There are a few things that keep popping up over and over. Here's the advice from the great, wise Internet:

"Eat spicy food." Done! I have thoroughly enjoyed spicy food throughout my pregnancy. In fact, one of my cravings has been the hot sauce from Taco Bell. I've been hoarding the stuff in my refrigerator for months now. I could probably drink it straight from the packet. (I won't, though).

"Take long walks." I guess I could try pacing the living room. I really don't want to take a long walk outside the house in case I get too far away and can't make it back. I mean, imagine walking around with a bowling ball crammed into your pelvis. That's what it feels like. Not exactly the recipe for a long, leisurely stroll around the block.

"Drink castor oil." Ew, no thank you.

"Have sex." There's some debate as to whether this actually helps to stimulate labor. I could question whether sex is even possible at nine months pregnant. I suppose it is, but I can pretty much guarantee it would be more comical than helpful.

I suppose I'm going to have to do this the old-fashioned way and just wait until Perrin is ready. But until then, I think I just might increase my hot sauce intake.

Last day of work

Today's my last day of work, and I feel strangely sad about leaving. After a couple week of sleepless nights, backaches, and general discomfort and fatigue, I thought I'd be rejoicing to finally make it to this point. And in some ways I am. But I also genuinely enjoy my job (most days, anyway), so I can't help feeling a little sad to close the doors on this part of my life.

At the same time, I'm totally excited that I get to stay home with Perrin. I never thought I'd be able to do this. It will definitely require some major sacrifices--no more eating out or other frivolous spending. But I know it's worth it. (Perrin, I hope you're worth it!!) :) And Trey and I both really feel at peace with our decision--we feel like God has blessed us by making it possible for me to stay home, and we're trusting that He'll provide for us.

I'm not completely leaving FamilyLife altogether... after a few months, I'm planning to work a few hours from home each week for the Global department. So hopefully this will be like the best of both worlds. But it's still a major change... an exciting, scary, never-be-the-same-again change. After all, I know how to organize meetings, create PowerPoint presentations, and write proposals or product descriptions. But taking care of an infant? Brand new territory for me. I truly believe that I'm leaving one full-time job and entering into a much more difficult (but also more rewarding) full-time job.

My new job title: Mommy. Hours per week: (How many hours are in a week? That many. Plus some.) No experience necessary (thank goodness). Description: Keep baby clean, fed, rested, safe, and loved. And try not to put the diaper on backwards.

Pregnancy insomnia

Strangely, even though I'm incredibly tired these days, I can't seem to get a decent night's sleep. I just lie awake for most of the night, tossing and turning and trying to find a way to get comfortable.

Since I'm trying to look at the bright side of things, I will admit there's one good thing that's come of being awake all night: a couple nights ago, I got to hear Trey talking in his sleep.

Trey doesn't generally talk in his sleep. In fact, this is the first time in our nearly four years of marriage that I've had a conversation with him while he was sleeping. Here's how it went (and if it doesn't make much sense to you either, join the club):

Trey: Someone was having me for breakfast.
Me: What??
Trey: Someone was having me for breakfast.
Me: Trey, what are you talking about?
Trey: (In a slightly whiny voice) I don't know! (Buries his head in his pillow)
Me: Did you have a dream?
Trey: I think that might have been part of it. (Mumble, mumble). You know, those little sausage things? (Rolls over and goes back to sleep)

That's about it. I asked him about it in the morning, and he didn't remember a bit of it. I was really curious to find out if someone was just having him over for breakfast, or actually having him for breakfast. I guess we'll never know.

Feeling the pressure

I'm only about 3 weeks away from my due date. Crazy, huh? I'm close enough that I actually could go into labor at any moment now. It's partly exciting and partly terrifying.

In the last couple of weeks, it's gotten a lot more uncomfortable to walk. I'm feeling a lot of pressure--it's like Perrin is pushing down, ready to escape. It's making me wonder if I'm really going to make it another three weeks. I wouldn't be too surprised if he came early. (Watch, just because I said that I bet he'll come two weeks late.)

I'm a little paranoid about going into labor somewhere or sometime really inconvenient. I heard a story not too long ago of a woman whose water broke while she was in Wal-Mart. She smashed a glass jar of pickles on the ground to cover it up, then headed off to the hospital. I really don't know what I would do if that happened to me. Maybe I should keep a jar of pickles handy at all times... just in case.

Am I done yet? Do I want to be?

My belly button is officially inside out. It looks bizarre... and it reminds me of those plastic button things that pop out of the turkey once it's done cooking. So if my belly button is any indication, I'm just about done, too.

My due date is still 4 weeks away, and the general assumption is that first babies tend to come late. If genetics play any role, that won't be the case--my mom's first baby, my older brother, arrived 3 weeks early. So if I follow in her footsteps, that would put me on course to go into labor next week. Hmm... now that it feels so immediate, I'm not sure that I'm ready after all!!!

Shower time!

Yesterday was baby shower day at work. Fun, fun! It's nice to have celebrations like this thrown in at the end of pregnancy when things are getting tough in a hurry.

Although this was a small shower, it's such a relief to have a few basic baby essentials at home now since we haven't really bought anything ourselves yet (except for the occasional moose outfit, which we just can't seem to pass up). And our church is throwing us another shower on Feb 6th, so I'm thinking we'll be pretty well prepared for Perrin's arrival by then (prepared in the sense that we'll have the necessary items to care for the baby; not necessarily in the sense that we'll know exactly what to do with said items).

The countdown begins

At the risk of sounding whiny and ungrateful, I have to admit that I'm ready for this pregnancy stuff to be over with. My ribs and back hurt, my belly is huge and awkward, I'm officially waddling instead of walking, I'm so sick of going to doctors appointments, and I've started experiencing heartburn for the first time in my life. (Want to know what gave me a bad case of heartburn yesterday? Water. That's right... water. Why oh why would WATER give me heartburn??)

The good news is I only have 6 weeks to go (less if Perrin comes early), and only 4 more weeks of working. I'll hang in there. But I apologize in advance if I get really crabby.

Registering

Because some wonderful ladies at my work are throwing me a shower in just a couple weeks, Trey and I finally got around to registering over the weekend. It was a lot of fun, but it was also a little overwhelming. Do you know how many different shapes, sizes, and styles of bottles there are?! And how are we supposed to know what kind we need? I started thinking that I really should have dragged a friend along--someone who already has a baby and could give us some tips. But since I didn't, we had to wing it.

Another issue: Trey insisted that he be the one to control the scanner thingy. (Sort of like the unending remote control battle at home). I relented, but when I got online later to look over our registries, I had to do some editing. (Baby butt paste, really, Trey? What the heck is that?)

Anyway, now that we've gotten that out of the way, we're one step closer to being ready for Perrin's arrival next month. Next month!! I can't believe we're that close to the finish line! Or rather, the starting line.