Most of you bet on the camera; I bet on the dishwasher, but in the end, it was the Swiffer that got Mr. S crawling. It’s really quite amazing how once they get it—they really get it. I spent the day moving my work onto a external hard drive without a super fascinating (and now accessible) power cord. Mr. S spent his day giggling at his good fortune, and finally lending a hand in the kitchen.
You might want to turn down the sound on your computer for the videos, because I go a bit super sonic.
Before it’s not January anymore, and my excuses are all gone, here are some of the lovely absolutely freakin’ AMAZING photos Miss Evans took over the course of my pregnancy. She’s something, ain’t she?
Calla and I did a pretty good job of documenting my pregnancy, but I was bad about posting the photos right after Peanut was born. However, since I was pregnant for most of 2009, I can now post them under the guise of a year-in-review post, and still make it look like I’m on top of things.
In the beginning, we took photos every week, but got a bit lazy somewhere in the middle. Still, it gives a good overview of how I went from TinyPants to Mama the Hutt in just 40 weeks.
I gained a total of 30 pounds, lost 20 after the delivery, and am now heavier than I was when I was running, but lighter than I was before I was running. I’m not too concerned because all my pre-pregnancy pants (the ones I had to buy after I started running because everything was suddenly too big) fit (albeit they’re more snug than before), so I can at least be stylish again, and whatever extra I’m carrying will be taken care of when I return to my beloved sport. I can only attribute my weight loss to breastfeeding and daily walks, because I’ve definitely not altered my intake of food.
Looking at these pictures makes me realize why women miss being pregnant. Sadly, I can remember what it feels like to have doctors rooting around inside you during a c-section, but I’ve forgotten the feeling of Peanut inside me. Oh well, he’s more fun on the outside anyway.
The sauropodlet’s 7 days old today.
I feel strangely cut off from the outside world–I haven’t had a chance to call the great-grandparents yet, and feel as though I’ve been slow to post pictures where Samson’s not all bruised up from labour and rashy from hospital linens. I was sure we’d be getting up early with a newborn, but instead sleeping in short bursts actually just extends the night into late morning. I’ve been unable to show off my baby to the regulars at the beach because we make it there about 2 hours later than I normally would.
So, I was thinking about this today, and I just had to get to blogging, because I hate the idea of people thinking they’re not hearing from us because we’re freaking out over here and just aren’t coping. The most common piece of advice I’d been getting from new (or newish) parents when I was pregnant was–it’s an adjustment. I would say, “I can imagine.” And they would shake their head at me like–oh, just wait. You have no idea. So before Peanut came, I was careful not to feel too confident. On the one hand, I’ve always heard that having a newborn is hard, and figured millions of people can’t be faking their exhaustion. But on the other, something hubby and I don’t talk about in public too much because we know we’ll be looked at askance–this little being is going to be eating, sleeping, pooping, and sometimes he’ll just *cry* because he feels overwhelmed or lonely or whatever. Sounds kind of like taking care of a dog. Once you go through an intial frustrating time figuring out your baby’s cues, seriously–how hard can it be? Actually the greatest piece of advice, the one that I clung to was something my mom said in passing when she was offerring to come help us in the early weeks of Peanut’s life. She told me that at the beginning it really seems like you have a lot of work, but later you look back on the first weeks of your infant’s life and realize all he ever does is sleep, and you wonder why you found it so hard.
So the best thing we could have done was we went into this with a healthy attitude. We didn’t buy a lot of fancy gadgets (remember, we’re cheap), things that people say you can’t live without, saying to ourselves that if we’re mistaken, and we really do need a wipe warmer, or a baby monitor, or a nursing pillow, we’ll just go out and get them (or if we’re so desperate send someone to buy them). We didn’t have a 100% finished baby room, we invested in slings rather than places to put baby down. We read just enough to be informed, but knew that in the end, our best advice will be from experienced helpers, like our midwives. I got angry when I was sent a sample of formula–I didn’t want this “easy way out” to taunt me. We agreed we may encounter problems along the way, but decided to tackle them when we got to them, rather than worrying about them before. I just couldn’t concede the point that I’ll not soldier on, stubborn as I always am, and prove that I can do this, and even if I can’t make it look easy, I will at least be able to drag myself out for a latte once in a while.
Again, we’re doing really well.
We’ve been on a walk every day since we came home Saturday, we’re taking visitors as they invite themselves, and we’re managing to keep ourselves clean and groomed. We’ve been keeping up with laundry and tidying the house. Sure, we’re sleep deprived, but we sleep in 2-3 hour bursts, so it really doesn’t feel that bad. We’re being productive!–today we made a trip to the grocery store, out to the beach with the dog, and to a baby store to buy a nursing bra. Yesterday we had a big photoshoot with Peanut’s Auntie Calla, and hubby’s been getting quality work done on his assignments for class. We’ve been watching Lost. Sauropolet’s 8lbs, up from the 7lbs 6oz he weighed in at the hospital on day 2, which means I’m feeding my baby well. He nurses every 2-3 hours and I’ve been enjoying it so much that I’ve been talking to hubby about continuing until he’s at least one, and I’ve started reading articles on getting back to work without pumping. I’ve had frustrating moments, but we work through them. We’ve figured out his dislikes and know how to comfort him through them. We wear him and are able to feed ourselves, and just generally get stuff done.
Funny that all this has happened in 7 days.
Anyway, kids, I’m sure some of you are dying to know what went on in the birth, and I will post about that soon, but right now I have some Lost to watch.
He was “…from his mother’s womb / Untimely ripped.” ~ Shakespeare
Perhaps not quite so untimely, but on September 24th, at 5:04pm, after 36+ hours of labour, my darling little Samson was born by cesarean section. Hubby and I never really went through the whole “he’ll have your eyes, but hopefully my nose” thing, but the unspoken concensus was this would be a swarthy baby. I often had to convince myself that I could and would be pleased with a little ape.
Well, instead, I got a chirpy little bird fellow. I think his Polish animal name* is destined to be ptaszek, which is rather unfortunately also a euphemism for what makes him a little boy. Perhaps we can think of something a bit more manly for him like hawk or stork or chicken or something.
Samson, where did you come from?
* Everyone Polish has an animal name their family knows them by. Seriously. Ask them. Fathers are usually misiu (bear). My mom’s żabcia (frog). I think I used to be rybka (fish) for my mom, and małpiszon (monkey) for my dad. I’ve also known a piesek (dog), and a myszka (mouse).
I bought these cute little correspondence cards at Winners ($5.99!) to use as decoration for Peanut’s room.
So, I thought I would be smart and tested the layout in Photoshop before I went to Ikea to purchase the frame. On my computer, everything fit neatly into the frame I had chosen, and I had several options for the layout. Of course, I was too lazy to actually go and measure the cards, and assumed they were just 4x6s. Not only did the cards not fit into the 50cm x 70cm frame I purchased, they didn’t even come close to my estimations, and so now I have 10 homeless cards.
Of course, I could just go and buy a larger frame, but the thing is: the alphabet is not even. Twenty-six letters just doesn’t divide evenly into rows, and always leaves you with an orphan line of letters. Hm. Maybe orphan isn’t the right term to use exactly, but you get my meaning? You cannot “full justify” the alphabet. Well, I guess you could but then the bottom row would be all spaced out and it would look like those documents where someone’s trying to make it look longer than it actually is.
Okay. Enough with the word processing metaphors. At some point, I’m going to have to get creative with the layout, so I figure I might as well just do it with the framing, and then maybe the little orphan letters won’t look so alone. I’m already into abstract framing and picture hanging, as I did with my Sharon Montrose prints (also in Peanut’s room):
…and as I’ve done with my burlap coffee sack in the kitchen:
So now tell me, dear readers, given the Ikea Catalogue, what would you do? I could buy two smaller frames from the same series and hope all the cards fit. I could do the rest individually, but that could get expensive. Or I could do a combination of the two. Or perhaps you’ll say I should just get one large frame because my off-kilter picture hanging techniques have just gotten out of hand! (This may actually be the cheapest way to do it. It just seems so boring!) And then comes the question, how do I mat the pictures within the frame?
So what do you say?