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.