Dedication

As I mentioned in my last post, Jacob's baby dedication at church was this last Sunday. (Yes, I'm running a few days behind... Lack of sleep, my excuse.)

Let me tell you how it went:

Just ignore how un-flattering this picture is of me. That's not what we're focusing on.

Can you see Nathan's face? That pretty much sums it up.
He bumped his mouth on the armrest of the pew as we went up front. It wasn't a bad bump, and definitely didn't warrant the sobbing he was doing, but that's what started it.
In the picture, he was sobbing, "Mommy! Mommy!" So we did a baby shuffle - I passed Jacob to Janice, then took Nathan from Paul, then Janice handed Jacob to Paul. I tried to get Nathan to quiet down with his sippy of milk - works every time at home, but didn't do a thing this time. He wailed the whole time we were up there. I'm assuming it's because we were up in front of all those people, and they were all watching, but still....
I didn't hear a thing the pastor said, because Nathan screamed the entire time. I took him out as soon as Pastor was finished (and of course, this is the Sunday the media team didn't record the sermon!). As we walked out the back door, Nathan abruptly changed his tune, "Daddy! Daddy!" (I think he knew what was coming.)
But it got me to thinking.... Double meaning of baby dedication: We were dedicating our baby to the Lord.... To raise him according to the Biblical principles and to teach him to love God. But we are also dedicating ourselves to our babies - to love them no matter what, to discipline them when they need it, and to be there for them.
And some days, it takes more dedication than others.

Post-Pregnancy Shopping

Most of you probably know that shopping isn't at the top of my favorite activities. Not even close. ESPECIALLY clothes shopping.... I don't know if it's the spending money, the fact I have a hard time finding clothes that fit and/or that I like the style of, or if it's the actual "hunting" part I hate.
Anyhow.
We don't have a scale, so I'm not sure where I am with my post-baby weight loss. Two weeks ago, I'd lost about half the weight I'd gained. I think I've lost a bit more, but I've been having major PMS-style munchie attacks, so I'm sure I'm not down to where I should be by now. I'm close to being able to fit back into my pre-preggers clothes, but not close enough to dare wearing them in public. (I'm definitely going to have to do some work on my abs this time around.)
I ruthlessly purged my closet this spring, shortly after breaking out the maternity clothes. Apparently at the time, I got rid of most of my good dress shirts (since I don't work anymore, the only thing I dress up for is church pretty much). (Hmm... I just thought about this.... Maybe I should check the ironing pile....) I have only two shirts that currently fit (and only a couple more that I'm not fitting into yet), and I've worn them both to church since having Jacob. So I decided to go buy a new shirt for Jacob's baby dedication.
Our town only has one clothing store - Maurice's - besides WalMart (I don't leave town to go shopping unless absolutely necessary). I quit shopping at WalMart during high school, due to their inability to carry clothes that fit me or that last. (I think they've gotten better, but I still don't shop there - at least not often, and definitely not for "nice" clothes.)
So last Friday, I headed out to Maurice's to find myself a top. I was excited, because they recently started carrying plus sizes, up to size 24, so I knew they'd have clothes in my size (instead of my size being the biggest they carry). (And by "recently" I mean "since last time I shopped there" which may very well have been before Nathan was born.)
This was such a frustrating experience on so many levels:

1. Instead of being one size larger than I was pre-babies, I am two sizes larger. (Blow to the ego.)
2. But not totally. Just enough bigger than an XL that it doesn't look good, but not big enough to get an XXL to hang right on me.
3. And add to that, I have to buy the larger size knowing (hoping) that in a couple months it won't fit me at all. I don't like spending money.
4. All styles aren't available in all sizes. The "plus-size" is a separate section, and I didn't like any of the styles they had. (Actually not the styles (cut) so much as the fabric designs/types they chose to use.)
5. Maurice's is a pretty trendy store. For the most part, the dressy tops tend to have random pieces of draping fabric, bangles, beads, straps or other oddities. Or one of those banded bottoms that I'm terrified to even try on, as I'm afraid it will make my backside look even larger.
6. There were a handful of tops that I liked, but they didn't have them in big enough sizes. Seriously - I've heard the average woman in America is size 14. So why don't they carry the MOST of that size (which would be an XL), instead of carrying two of XL (which immediately sell), and 40 of size medium?

I ended up with two tops I liked - a green satin one and a purple super-stretchy cowl-neck sweater. I did have a coupon for 20% off (that I'm pretty sure was about four years old, but it didn't have an expiration date).

It ended up being too cold (and windy and rainy) on Sunday for Jacob's dedication to wear the green shirt (it was short-sleeve). It was one of the ones I was in-between sizes, so I'm thinking I'll hold on to it for another month or two (leave the tags on), and by then I'll hopefully have lost enough weight to fit into the smaller size.

I guess I should be glad I wasn't shopping for pants. I don't even want to think about how many sizes larger my backside has gotten.

One More Night....

Paul is working 12 hour nights this week - 7 PM to 7 AM.
Last night the boys double-teamed me with fusiness and crying. For an hour. That was not fun. And compound the problem: Jacob wanted to nurse because he was fussy, and Nathan wanted to snuggle because he was fussy. So I'd switch back and forth - hold one on my lap and set the other one next to me and pat him.
Luckily tonight we didn't have that problem.
However, we did have a Mommy/Nathan showdown. Nathan insists on being carried up the stairs (and down, too, half the time). He is getting heavy. Not heavy enough I can't carry him, but heavy enough that if he made a sudden move while I had him on the stairs, I'd drop him, and he (and maybe me, too) would fall down the very steep, very hard stairs.
So tonight I told him he had to walk upstairs. Long story short.... After about 10 swats and much crying, he finally made it to the top of the stairs. I feel like I should feel bad for standing my ground, but I truly believe that I have to show him that I mean business.... When I tell him to do something, I expect to be obeyed, or there will be consequenses. I've been a marshmellow too long when it comes to getting by with things, and that has got to change.
I can tell already that he's starting to test me to see if I'll stick to my guns. Sure, it's not on the same level an adolescent would test a parent, but I want my (and Paul's) authority to be recognized before we get to that stage.
Anyhow. Off that little bunny trail.
It hasn't been horrible without Paul here at night, but it's definitely easier with two parents. And apparently I'm incapable of going to bed before midnight if he's gone.
It's only 11 now, so I really should get headed that way.... Sooner or later this not sleeping enough at night is going to catch up with me.

Do You Ever Get Tired of This?

There are a few things I love about having a newborn.... Things I forgot I loved so much about Nathan when he was tiny, that I remember now that I have Jacob. Makes me wonder if you love it about every newborn - whether it's your first or your tenth.

• The milky smell of his breath.
• Kissing his soft chubby cheeks.
• Patting his tiny tushie as he curls up against my chest.
• Stroking his tiny hands and fingers as he lays them against me while he nurses.
• The silky smooth feeling of his skin.
• Watching him sleep.

And those are just the things I can think of right now. I'm totally enjoying being a Mommy of two. And whereas I spend much of my time holding or nursing Jacob, I'm still having some sweet times cudding and visiting with Nathan. I love my boys!

"I Love You, Daddy."

We finally got Nathan to say "I love you" this weekend. We've been working on it ever since he first started talking. Shortly after he started saying his first words, I got him to say something like, "Ba Ba Boo." I translated that to be him repeating what I'd just said. But nothing even resembling it ever since.
Our son is not very free with his affections. He does okay with hugs, but mostly only to parents and grandparents, and either flat out refuses kisses, or will only incline the top of his head toward you. Absolutely no mouth kisses.
Saturday I was sitting on the couch teasing him, asking him, "Can you.....[fill in the blank]?" So I threw in "Can you.... Say 'I love you'?" And he said "I love you," with a big grin. My heart went pitter-patter. I'd waited so long to hear those words.
So imagine how much my heart melted tonight when Paul was putting his boots on to go to work, and Nathan walked over to him and out of the blue said, "I love you, Daddy."
Paul looked up and said, "What did you say?" And Nathan repeated it, "I love you, Daddy."
Paul beamed a smile over at me then said to Nathan, "Ah, I love you, too. Can you give Daddy a hug and kiss?" Nathan ran over to him and gave him both - a kiss on the mouth even!
I didn't ask him, but I'm pretty sure that made Paul's night. Definitely gave him something to smile about during his 12-hour shift.
And as much as I'd love to hear the phrase with "Mommy" on the end, I am really glad that Paul got the first spontaneous "I love you." He deserves it - he's such a good Daddy.

Two Weeks! Already?

I can't believe Jacob is already two weeks old.
I have to say, I'm doing much better with the lack of sleep this time around.... So far. Probably the fact that I never really got out of the habit of waking up in the middle of the night with Nathan. Or the fact that I had been practicing for weeks before actually giving birth with middle-of-the-night trips to the bathroom. (And then getting back into bed and needing to pee again immediately.)
Jacob is chubbing up nicely. His little cheeks are so soft. He's got two chins now, and his arms and legs are plumping up - not so much loose skin. (And once again, I can take all the credit for that!)
Nathan and Paul got over their disease, just in time for allergies to strike Paul and I. Ugh. Headache. All. The. Time. I can't take anything for it except Tylenol, as sinus medication is off-limits when you're nursing. Bleh.
Well, I hear some incredibly adorable hiccupping coos coming from the bassinet, so I must go investigate. I'll attempt to blog again later.

See Any Resemblance?

Rachel's hospital picture, 1982.

Jacob, 3 days old.