Oops... Did I say that?

I don't know about anyone else, but when I am tired, it definitely affects my communication.

I get tongue-tied.

I lose my filter.

When typing, words come out spelled at crazy ways.  Or sometimes in the wrong order.

Since Henry's teeth are greatly affecting the quality of my sleep, I am even more afraid that I may make a communication blunder while at work.


Here are a few things I am afraid may happen:

1.  I desperately afraid I will accidentally tell someone "I love you" when leaving a message or getting off the phone.  While this might be forgiveable if a woman were on the other end of the line (women tend to be more understanding of mommy-hood sleep deprivation), I usually only speak with men.  It could make for some awkward meetings if I have told everyone in the room I love them before I get off the phone.

2.  Public... without the "l".  Not sure that one needs much explanation.

3.  In my engineering reports, I have to report some things in units of time i.e. feet per second.  But it is common to eventually abbreviate seconds to "sec".  The "x" is really close.  I'm a little afraid I will start reporting flowrate in terms of cubic feet per sex.


I think I will have to start searching my documents for inappropriate words before I print and send them in.  Nothing says professional like sexual references, amiright?

When it comes to being overly verbally affectionate, I know it is just a matter of time.  Seriously.

Until then...

Love you.

:)

Did I have Cancer?

Before I knew I had Cancer, I purchased an Aflac Cancer Policy through the office.  My thinking was this:  if I have it, I won't need it.  Murphy's Law and all that.  And since I have had cancer, I have put off actually filling out the paperwork for the claims.  I don't know why.  I guess I am afraid they will deny my claim (I had a bad experience with some travel insurance).

I finally decided I need to fill out the paperwork and file the claim.  In doing so, I needed to make sure I had certain dates right for the forms.  So I went back through my calendar to double check and it was the strangest thing...  To think back about everything that was going on.  And I still remember how scared and anxious I was the whole time.

I can remember camping with my family, feel of anxiety about meeting with the endocrinologist the next day.  I remember travelling to Virginia to see Phil's old roommates, taking Synthroid in hopes my nodules would shrink.  I remember the half-marathon Phil and I ran, hoping that we would be finding out the next week that my nodules had shrank and therefore I wouldn't have cancer.  I remember the complete and total frustration when my endocrinologist cancelled my biopsy an hour before it was supposed to happen and the extreme anger I felt with it took 3 more attempts before she would actually perform the procedure.  I remember the way my heart sank when her nurse called me, asking me to come in and discuss my biopsy results with the doctor.  And how the 5 minute drive from my office to her office seemed to take forever.  I remember sending text messages to Joanna and my brother because I couldn't think about calling them and getting the words out.  I remember going to my parents house, having Phil meet me there.  I walked in and didn't get any words out, just tears, and my mom started crying too.

Having a baby, which was the only thing I wanted, was on hold for who knows how long.

And now I get to sit and hold and feed and cuddle with my little boy.  I take my thyroid pill every day.  And I see my endocrinologist every once in a while.  I find myself running my hand across my scar almost daily.  But I am still overwhelmed by the fact that I actually had cancer.

Just the other day, I turned to Phil and said, "Can you believe I had Cancer?!?"  It just doesn't seem like something that happens to seemingly healthy people in their mid-20's.  But I did.  And I still remember how terrifying the experience was.

The truth is, having cancer has changed me.  It made me more empathetic for other people and families going through their own Cancer battle.  It made me more aware of the people and the hurt around me.  And it made me more grateful for my health and the health of those I care about.

And it has made me a thousand times more grateful for this guy:

Henry, I didn't know if I would ever get to meet you.  I thank God everyday that I get to be your mommy.

Hank the Tank

 

I kind of always knew Henry would be a giant baby.

I have 4 nephews and while I can't remember if Daniel was a big infant or not (because I was 13 when he was born), I do have a very CLEAR memory of the other three and none of them were what you would consider "petite".  I guess that's just not how we grow them in our family.

Or maybe it was the radioactive iodine.  Let's not forget how the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were created, ok?

Anyway... You know you have a bigger baby when the nurse says upon walking into the exam room, "He does NOT look like a 4 month baby."  He is sticking with his trend of being a big guy.

4 Month Stats

Length: 26.5 inches  (93rd percentile)

Weight:  18 lbs (90th percentile)

Perfectly in giant proportion.

Perhaps I should be bottling and donating my breastmilk to NICUs or something.  I promise I do not take steroids.

His 3 month pants that I have been shoving him into have basically become capris, so Phil and I decided we should be putting him in bigger pants.  While I have a boatload of bigger onesies, I had like 2 pairs of bigger pants.  How is that even possible?  I don't know.

So I went on the Carter's website and looked in the size chart.  According to their clothing, he should be in 9 month clothing.

9 MONTHS!!

And I've been forcing him to wear 3 month clothing.  Mother of the year.

Not to mention that the cloth diapers kind of make you have to use even bigger pants.

Needless to say, we headed up the Carter's store Friday night and bought our Hank the Tank some 9 month clothing.  And 12 month because at the rate this kid is going, we will be there before you know it.  His 3 month clothing has been retired.  :(

During the process of swapping his clothes, I realized I have a bunch of 6 month onesies that technically he is too big for that he has never worn.  So basically for the next 2 weeks, he will be in slightly too small onesies and appropriately sized pants.  He needs to get through at least each onesie once.

{He has his first cold, but still manages to smile}

We have had several realizations since discovering how much Henry really weighs:

1.  He probably shouldn't be wearing size 2 diapers anymore (we use them at night).  It's no wonder he has woken up with a few leaks.  And on the cloth diaper front, we can probably undo the first set of snaps.

2.  We have a hard time getting him into the Bumbo.  But that makes sense because 9 month olds typically don't need the Bumbo.  They can sit up by themselves.

3.  He is probably going to outgrow the carseat sooner than we would have liked.  And we are thankful we bought the giant carrier that we did.  It should get us a couple more months.

4.  I should probably start saving up now for how much food he will consume as a teenager.

T.I.R.E.D.

It's a novel post, right?  A mother of an infant complaining about being tired.

Despite my desperate pleas that he sleep through the night, Henry did not.  In fact, yesterday when I picked him up from daycare, his teacher said, "I sure hope he sleeps for you tonight."

Oh great.

I guess he basically slept all day yesterday.  Couldn't even be bothered to wake up and eat, which of course meant he woke up every 2 hours last night, STARVING.

You know, it's not even the tired part that bothers me.  It's the fact that I keep forgetting things that really annoys me.

My lunch.  The wet bag for Henry's diapers.  Parts for the breast pump.  Bibs for Henry.  Nursing pads.  A better keyboard for my computer at the office.  How to spell words.  The fact that I shouldn't throw away important papers from my desk.

It's in my brain and then gone a second later.

Thankfully I have yet to forget important things like Henry's diapers, bottles or Henry himself.  While I doubt I will forget Henry, I know it is just a matter of time until I forget his bottles one day.

I'm contemplating wear a pack of post-its around my neck, so I can jot things down when they come to me and then I won't lose the post-it 3 seconds later.

I'm crossing my fingers he does more than just sleep at daycare today.

4 Months

I can't believe it.  But this little guy is 4 months old.

How can 4 months be so fast and slow all at the same time?

On the one hand, I can't believe he is already 4 months old.  Wasn't it just yesterday that I was larger than life, and then in labor for a billion hours?

{I look at that picture of myself and can't believe I was that big.  I feel so skinny now}

On the other hand, I can't believe there was ever life without him.  How did I ever not know this face?

He can almost sit up by himself.  He brings his hands to his mouth.  He picks up toys and talks to you.  He sleeps in his own crib, in his own room.  Basically he is practically going off to college.

He is such a happy baby.

{Who needs pants?}

And if I could just convince him to sleep through the night again like he used to, I dare say he would be the most perfect baby.  I supposed we can't be perfect.

But I will give him $100 if he sleeps through the night.  Momma is getting desperate over here.  :)

Mommy loves you, Hank the Tank!!

Printstagram

I'm feeling a little vulnerable today.

Perhaps it is the fact that Henry wakes up every 2 hours at night to nurse.  Or maybe it is that all the stress of Phil's dad's health and Phil's dissertation is coming out.  Maybe it is that we are still getting adjusted to daycare.

It could be that we went to visit our Bradley instructor yesterday and retelling my "not-so Bradley" birth story dredged it all up again.

It's probably because I woke up late this morning and didn't get to work until like 9:45.  I HATE oversleeping.

And it doesn't help that that meant dropping Henry off around naptime, so he was on the fussier side.

No matter... I'm feeling a little off.  A little bit like I just want to go home and snuggle with Henry.

But I can't.

The one thing that is helping today are these:

Yes, I instagramed my Instagrams.  This is the song that doesn't end...

A couple of weeks ago, I ordered some prints of my Instagram pictures through Printstagram.  And I LOVE THEM!!  $12 for 24-4" square photos.  And they are on cardstock.  AND I got them like 5 days later in the mail.  I was quite impressed.

I ordered 2 sets, so Phil could have some as well.  I am totally going to order more in a couple of months, when I have a new batch of cute Henry pictures to choose from.

Alright, back to counting down the seconds until I can pick up my main-man, Hank.

*I wish this was a sponsored post, but it is not.

Day 1

We survived our first day of daycare.

I say we because it was really a question more of me making it through than Henry.  To add to my professionalism, I cried through the whole staff meeting that day and get to experience the joy of milking myself at work (aka pumping).  Everyone at work seemed to understand and were very supportive.

I had a night meeting that night, so I had a good excuse to go pick him up early.  When I got there, he was taking a nap and I got to hear from his teacher what a great day he had.

He discovered his tongue, took the bottle, loved playing outside, smiled whenever the other babies were around him, laughed at his teachers, and did great in his crib with the crib mobile.

Basically, he rocked daycare.  And that made me feel SO MUCH better.

I was pretty excited to have him back with me at the office Thursday and Friday.  Can you blame me?  Look at this guy...

Did you notice his shirt?  Totally appropriate for an engineering office.

On another cute note... David was asked what his favorite part of kindergarten was and he answered that he got to see Henry every day.  Melt my heart.

Today is his second day there (he goes Monday thru Wednesday only for now) and when I dropped him off, he smiled and laughed at his teachers.  I unpacked his stuff, gave him a hug, and went to my car.  And I managed to do the whole thing without crying.

There was another mom there this morning and it was obviously he first day dropping off her baby.  Her baby was TINY.  I'm guessing 8 weeks old.  I wanted to run up to her and give her a big hug, but I didn't.  I thought that might be a little weird.

I'm pretty much willing the time to go by today so I can go pick him up.  I just hope the little guy is prepared for all the kissing and hugging that he is going to be showered with tonight.