My cute baby girl

<--last week in the sprinkler

I just needed a post to brag about B's cuteness.

Sometimes, I think she might be the happiest baby on the planet. She is laughing ALL the time. No wonder I love spending all day with her; she's amazing! She can take a giant tumble on the pavement and hardly put up a fuss. (No joke, just happened last month. Blood and all.)

<----16 months

I read about moms dealing with tantrums as young as 8 months. "EIGHT MONTHS?!" I thought. Thank goodness, our tantrums have been held at bay so far. Even when she's upset and has a mini-fit, she's cute. She jumps up and down and grunts, usually looses her balance and falls and then laughs at herself. Fit over. Life is good again.

She loves to make people laugh and will do whatever it takes to keep their attention. She's really into slap-stick comedy, it's hilarious.

She has the biggest, best smile on the plant. It lights up the entire block.

Dancing is her forte. Man can she shake it. Add some spinning into the mix and it's a giant bundle of cuteness. And now, she even likes to dote around the house with a microphone so she can let the world know, "I'm HERE!!!" She started mimicking dancing on TV and will try to mock the motions of "Super Why!" and "Happy Feet". Cute, cute.

She loves EVERYBODY. Of course she'll play shy at first, but really it's just to keep their attention; keep them doting over her, telling her how cute/sweet/pretty she is. Men especially are her favorites. If any of daddy's buddies are over, or Uncle Scott is around. . . PaPaw, Uncle Bubby, PopPop. . . forget mom. She's got some men to win over.

B LOVES to give kisses. She'll kiss anything. Yesterday, I caught her trying to kiss an ant. No joke. She'll hug and kiss almost every stuffed animal she comes across, and I think that's the only thing she likes about saying Good-Bye; she gets to give kisses to everyone. She is SO unbelievably full of love it's, well. . . unbelievable. She was giving awesome hugs as soon as she was old enough to grab hold.

<--- visiting with friends

She walks cute. She talks cute. She sleeps cute. She is just So. Darn. Cute.

Changing Who I Am

I think I've been wanting to post about this but avoiding it at the same time for at least a few months now.

I used to have THE dream job. Or MY dream job. For years I worked my butt off - often for free - to get the opportunity to get to swim with dolphins and get paid for it. I literally would cry over the thought of how happy my life would be if I could ever have the opportunity to nuzzle up to a walrus mustache or dance with a sea lion. My life with animals began the moment I came out of the womb. I decided I wanted to work with animals when I was maybe 4 and my uncle took me to the zoo and I spent hours in front of the baboons. At 10, I went to SeaWorld for the first time and remember talking to the trainer after the Clyde and Seymor show to find out how I could do that. When I was 11, I had my first job at a horse stable. When I was 16, I got my first job at the local pet store. At 19 I decided to major in biology and started volunteering at the zoo. At 20 I had my first job as a zookeeper. 21 my first marine mammal internship (unpaid) at the Dolphin Connection in the spring, and the Indianapolis Zoo in the summer. At 22 I went to the Dolphin Reasearch Center to volunteer. And just before turning 23, I finally landed my dream job. I was beyond ecstatic. I screamed. . . and cried. . . it was definitely one of the happiest moments in my life EVER.

<---Me and my all time favorite, Pepper

So to sum it up, I worked damn hard to get that job. There are 14 marine mammal trainer jobs in the ENTIRE state of Indiana. At the time, there would MAYBE be one position open up every year or two. That job was my LIFE. Those animals -- were my life. The trainers were like family. Together, we were taking care of some incredibly amazing animals. It was our job and our responsibility to make sure that they were happy, healthy, well fed, properly medicated, clean. . . you name it. It's like having 20 children. Your entire existence is to be there for them. And it was amazing.

I had also always seen myself as a mother. So maybe that's why I've always loved taking care of things. . . it's just what I do. When I had B and it was time to go back to work, it was much harder to decide than I thought it would be. Isabelle was my baby. . . but so were the animals at the zoo! I didn't want to miss out on them. I wanted to be there when Nova had her baby. I wanted to be there to train Pepper all kinds of new things. I wanted to be apart of the excitement when anything happened that involved any of those wonderful animals.

When it came down to it, what made my decision was kind of a pessimistic view; I thought to myself, "Which would you rather regret?" In other words, would it be more upsetting to me to regret missing out on something in B's life, to to regret missing out on something at the zoo. Well obviously, that was a no-brainer.

When I was having trouble in my decision, one of the best trainers I've ever known said to me that I need to figure who I am. Is my career as a trainer WHO I AM? If I stay at home, will I loose a part of who I am? To be a good mom, you have to be true to yourself and be happy to bring that happiness home to your children. And she was right.

But I realized that what I am is a mom. And if I stayed at work, I couldn't be the mom that I wanted to be. It would be like half-assing it; and I don't like to half-ass things. I wanted to be there for ALL of the holidays. I wanted to share in traditions. I wanted to be the one to take my daughter on "field trips" and to the park and to the pool and where ever else she wanted to go. I wouldn't be okay with missing a soccer game or not being able to be the girl scout leader b/c I was too busy with work. I wanted to raise her full-time; not just when I was off the clock.

<--with my nephew, 8 months prego in a show

I left the zoo to stay at home with B on July 31, 2010. Over the past year+, I realize that who I was a year ago is such a different person than who I am today. For so long, the zoo was my life, and I DO feel like I'm loosing a part of it, a part of me, every day. But, I also realize how much I have gained in the past year from being home with B. Being a different person doesn't have to be a bad thing. I try to go in to the zoo to volunteer as much as I can and get my "fix". . . and get a little piece of that part of me back. . . but in the meantime, I just love being a mom. And it's pretty great.

Do overs.

I'm NOT making any announcements, but lately I've been thinking a lot about what I would do differently and what I would do the same should there be a baby #2. Here is goes.

Top Five things I'd do differently:

1. Wear her more often. As in baby wearing. As in slings, carrying her around, koala baby. I didn't discover Attachment Parenting until B was about 9 months old, and although I did wear her on occasion, it was more of for convenience than as a lifestyle. It just makes more sense. Babies who are worn feel closer to mom, are "at home" and more easily comforted, plus mom remains hands-free and can do whatever she needs to do; go shopping, do laundry, fix dinner.Studies also show babies who are worn speak sooner because they are always with an adult and close to their mouth where they can hear and SEE what they are saying. Not to mention I would be able to go about my business where ever I am and still be able to breastfeed while baby #2 is in the sling without anyone being able to tell. Awesome!

2. Co-sleep. I was so worried if I ever let Isabelle sleep in bed with me (or anywhere not in her crib) that she would never sleep alone. And maybe that's true. She WAS a pretty good sleeper and maybe it's because she was in the crib from day 1.But after reading about all of the benefits of co-sleeping, it's definitely something I'd like to heavily consider with baby #2. Co-sleeping is easier because you don't have to get up, walk down the hall, sit in the rocker and feed your baby. Co-sleeping babies have better oxygen levels, breathing rates, and healthier sleep cycles than a baby that sleeps alone. Children who share sleep with their parents have been shown to be more independent than their peers. Yes, we may have a sleeping buddy for another 3-6 years, but really. . . is that so bad? If nothing else, I'd like to at least do it for the first 3 months. At least. I'd always heard so many bad things about co-sleeping, it's been enlightening to hear when done safely, how great it can be!

3. Sleep training. Wish I'd known about what a REAL baby is like and learned to embrace it from the beginning. I spent way too much time and energy trying to make sure she didn't have any sleep associations, trying to get her on a schedule, and trying to "help" her to learn to fall asleep on her own. I still feel guilty for the one day I let Isabelle cry alone in her room. 30 minutes in and we were both hysterical, shaking anxiously, and emotionally hurting. I don't know about her, but I'm certainly scarred for life! Thank God I've read "The No Cry Sleep Solution" and can now cuddle, nurse, love, hold, rock, whatever, my baby to sleep for as long as I want and as much as I want and know I can eventually, when we are ready, GENTLY help her learn better sleep habits without ever having to let her cry-it-out.Glad I don't have to go through that mess again!

4. This is so not crunchy of me. . . but baby #2 I'm getting an epidural sooner. The 2 hours of intense labor with B isn't something I want to experience again. I don't tolerate pain well. Now I know why other moms would always snicker and/or roll their eyes when I told them I wanted to try to go without. Props to those of you super strong women who do!

5. Take off the full 12 weeks. I had my first wedding 6 weeks after B was born. Then at 8. That was too soon. I deserved a longer break, I just pushed out at 8lb 10oz baby!!

Diaper/Necklace Update

We are now about 4 months into cloth diapering. Since I was still pretty new at it when I first posted, I though I would update how it's going.

I. Love. It.

That's right. Something about it is so addicting. Well. . . lets face it, those dipes are freekin' adorable #1. And there is something so rewarding about using reusing them, saving the money, and having something warm and fuzzy (not plastic and filled w/ chemicals) on my baby's butt. We've had a few gross poos to clean. . . but surprisingly, nothing that didn't come out easily in the wash. I'm not sure how I would've done if I would've started cloth diapering when she was a newborn. There was so many other things to learn at the time. . . but baby #2, I'm definitely thinking it's a go.

And the amber teething necklace. . .

Also. . . I. Love. It.

I was a little sceptical about it's true powers. Yes, she started sleeping through the night and showed remarkable improvement when we first got it, but I'd also been working really really hard on that with Elizabeth Pantley's "No Cry Sleep Solution" techniques, so I didn't want to give the necklace ALL of the credit. Well, 7 days ago I lost the necklace. In only 1 day, she started waking at night again. And her naps got shorter. One night, she woke three times, which she hasn't done in a really really long time. I kept putting off ordering a new necklace thinking I was being silly. . . then broke down. And then of course that night I found her original necklace, strapped it on, and after 4 hours, she started sleeping through the night again. It works. I also read it's not effective on 20% of the population for one reason or another so if you read this and go out and buy one and it DOESN'T work. . . don't curse me. But seriously, if you have a baby, you can find them on eBay for around $12. Just a bottle of ibuprofen is $8 and you run out of that crap pretty quickly with teething. The necklace will literally last a lifetime.

Delivery Day

For some reason, I feel like pregnancy and delivery has been everywhere I look recently. Pregnant friends, new job ventures, crazy movie trailers. Okay. . . and I'm kind of obsessed with all things baby, so it's not like I ever STOP thinking about it. Nevertheless. . .

Even though B was born just a mere 16 months and 3 weeks ago, I am already starting to forget some of the details. And since this blog is for her to look back at, too, I thought documenting that day might be an exciting thing to reminisce down the road. So. . . here we go!

It's important to the story to mention that I had crazy contractions throughout the majority of my pregnancy. Like. . . from 14 weeks on. Around 36 weeks, I started having "pre-labor" contractions. When they started, I was sure I was in labor. I was having contractions every 7-9 minutes for HOURS. The doctor explained the "pre-labor" nature. . . and said I could go into labor anytime. . . or they could just fade. They faded. And returned the next day. And the next. And the next. For the next month, I had these pre-labor contractions every day from about 2pm-9pm.

Another important details was my career at the time. I was a marine mammal trainer. My doctor was very much into pregnant women doing everything they would normally do (keeps you healthy!) so she put me on no restrictions. (Although I admit I did get a few restrictions from my family doctor. I refused to lift more than 50 lbs and didn't want to work with polar bears in zero degree temps surrounded by slippery ice all day). So every day, I was doing lots of lifting, running around, and living the crazy life of a typical zookeeper. So really, it's no surprise that the stresses of the job MAY HAVE caused some intense contractions. All day. And by 8 or 9pm, my body recouped from the day and the contractions stopped. Joy.

So after 4 weeks of these "pre-labor" contractions, I was about at my wits end. Around 39 weeks, I would several trips home from work crying because I was a) hormonal and b) so freekin' uncomfortable and exhausted. February 4th, the day before B's due date, I was driving home, trying not to cry telling my sister about my continued contractions, with her again telling me over and over, "Just go to the hospital!" The worst they could do was send me home.

I'm all for babies coming when they are ready. I don't like the idea of forcing anything unnaturally. So every night my sister told me to go to the hospital, I put it off, suffered through another day, and went on. I called her (and my mom) again at 9:30 when the contractions hadn't stopped. Lee had just fixed me a delicious dinner of meatloaf, potatoes, carrots, and crescent rolls, and I wasn't the least bit interested in eating it. I called the doctor. She didn't think I was in labor, but when she heard me continue to go on and on an on about my discomfort, she told me to go ahead and go in and see what happened.

So - dinner uneaten - we packed up and headed out. When we got there they took my blood pressure and found it was high. I can't remember exactly how high. . . I think it fluctuated from around 120/80 to 100/60? Do those numbers even make sense? I just remember the first number never got below 100. . . So, it was official; I got to stay!

I can't remember exactly where I was as far as dilation/effacement. . . I just remember it was higher than my last OB appointment from 2 days ago. I think it was about 4.5cm and 80% effaced. But I had been at 3.5-4cm and 60-75% effaced since 32 weeks, so that didn't really mean much to me, except that MAYBE I really was in labor and progressing somewhere. After a month of this pre-labor stuff, I wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

They hooked me up to all of their gadgets. I tried to sleep, but couldn't. I don't remember what time the doctor came in. . . maybe 11pm? She said I was still contracting regularly -- about every 3-5 minutes, but she couldn't tell if I was really in labor. My BP was still high. She asked about pitocin, which I didn't want. . . so she broke my water instead. Then all hell broke loose.

Anyone who knows me knows that I don't tolerate pain well. But this was child birth and for one reason or another I wanted to "experience" it. I wanted to at least TRY to go without. My sister (a super-hero) had her second drug free, so I figured why not give it a shot? So I declined when the nurse offered and she told me to be sure I gave a 15 minute warning if I did decide I wanted it, because it would take time for the anesthesiologist to come down. Ok. I can do that.

I honestly don't remember how much time passed between that moment and when I decided I wanted an epidural. Maybe a few hours? They intensified VERY quickly, to the point where they were only a few minutes apart and I was hurting enough that I couldn't stand. Walking to the bathroom was out of the question; I knew if I had a contraction mid-walk I would probably fall over. People say it is like pain you've never known. . . they were so right! So right, it makes me laugh just thinking about how clueless most average, non-moms are about it all. So anyways, I was done. I told the nurse I was ready for my drugs.

15 minutes came and went. When you are hurting, every minute feels like hours. Well, that's obviously exaggerating, but time DEFINITELY goes much much slower. Then it was 30 min. Then 45. Then 60. I sent my sister out to find out what was going on. Apparently, me and 4 or 5 (or was it 7 or 8?) other women all decided they all wanted to have a baby and an epidural at the same time. . . so I had a line to wait in. Once again, another detail slipped my mind, because I can't remember how long it was before the anesthesiologist finally showed up. I think just over 2 hours, but maybe that's exaggerating. (Like walking up a hill 5 miles both ways in the snow to get to school). Either way, I was so far gone by the time that lady finally walked in.

When you get an epidural you're supposed to sit completely still, which seems practically impossible when you are literally writhing in pain. But I got it and WOW was it amazing. I managed to then get a few hours of sleep between 3am-6am.

The nurse came to check on me at 6am and I was 10cm and ready to go. (Wonder how long I'd been there?!) We waited for my doctor to come in for the day at 7am and got started pushing.

B started crowning pretty quickly. I was so excited; she's finally coming!! My little chunker was blessed with her momma's big head, though. And it didn't want to come through.

Two hours into pushing, the Dr. Priddy (my doctor) told me that we could try the suction. If that didn't work, we needed to look into a sectarian. I'd been pushing for 2 hours on 3 hours of sleep, so i was exhausted, but the thought of just ripping her out of me after all of that trouble was devastating. I'm into statistics, so I asked her if she did use the suction, how often would she say it is successful. She said 9 times out of 10. I felt good about those odds, so we went with it.

Suction #1 didn't work. I held back tears and Dr. Priddy could probably tell I really didn't want a C-section. . .so we tried pushing again w/o tools. And then suction again. And more pushing. Once again - not sure how many times we went back and forth, but enough times to get us to over 3 hours of pushing. We gave it another go, I got my epsiotomy, and she was FINALLY out.

My 8lb 10oz bundle of joy was finally here! She was healthy. . . had all 10 fingers and toes. . . and was overall just perfect. She took to nursing right away (my biggest worry) with some help from the nurse helping her get her first latch. It was amazing.

When I tell the story, it sounds really awful. But it really wasn't. When I was in the middle of it, I was just so excited, I really didn't mind it all. I even remember thinking, "This isn't as bad as I thought it'd be!" It was all worth it times 100. Yes, it was more pain than I could've ever imagined. . . which I know I had heard, but really. . . you have no idea until you give birth yourself. Yes, I was exhausted. Yes, I was sore for a long time. I also developed severe anemia and it took several weeks before I felt like myself again. But what I got for it -- my baby girl -- I would do it 50 times all over again and it would STILL be worth it.

Looking back, I sometimes still wonder if I really was in labor or not. How much longer would I have had contractions? Would they have eventually stopped. . . just maybe not until the next morning? I feel guilty about having my water broken and rushing B into the world. The crunchy side of me. . . and I wonder if she would've popped out at 1 hour of pushing instead of 3 if I would've gotten an episotomy sooner (Me and Dr. Priddy had discussed my episotomy fears at previous appointments).

The suction did leave a bump on her head that later scabbed, but it healed normally and I never noticed any problems from it. The day I was discharged from the hospital was Superbowl Sunday, and also the day I got a call from work that Sundance, a dolphin I worked closely with who had been suffering from illness, passed away. With all of my hormones. . . I was hysterical. So that really put a damper on the day. . . week. . . month. . . but having a sweet baby to hold surely made it easier. We had a rough first night home. All she wanted to do was nurse and would only sleep in 15 min increments. But it got easier. And easier. And maybe a little harder. But easier again eventually.

Like I've said before, being a mother is amazing. Just as much as you don't understand the pain until you experience it, you also can't understand the love you will feel until you are holding that little baby in your arms. It truly is the most amazing feeling you will ever feel in the world. However, if baby #2 could come out a LITTLE bit faster. . . I wouldn't be complaining.

Birth video: (PG, I promise)
http://youtu.be/IEGMD4GyMSI

Timing "In"

I'm sure you have all heard of Time-out. Who hasn't? Your toddler does something you don't like, so you tell at them that whatever they are doing is wrong, and plop them in Time-Out. You might even suggest to them that they "think about what they've done". Which all sounds good and dandy until you realize that you are putting a pissed off toddler into a place, withdrawn from everybody to think about what he's done, when all he is REALLY going to do is think about how horrible you are and how unfair it is because he isn't even old enough to have the mental capacity to be able to contemplate this past actions. All he just learned is don't hit Tommy when mommy is around instead of don't hit Tommy because it hurts. It is merely turning his action to be about HIM, and it's not about him, it's about Tommy. Personally, I don't want my kid to hit b/c of how it makes the other person feel, not because he just doesn't want to get into trouble. Not to mention you are essentially telling your child, "I will only love you when you are good and act the way I want you to act." Anger, fear, jealousy because "bad" emotions that children shouldn't have and are punished for having them. You are withdrawing your love -- giving them conditional love. I love you when you are happy/sweet/loving, not angry/frustrated/jealous. It's punitive, causes shame, and is all about how bad you can make the child feel. Sound extreme? Sure. But even though that might not be how you feel you are acting, it's about how THEY feel about it. So if they feel like mommy doesn't love me UNLESS. . . that's all that matters.

Okay, obviously, I'm not a fan of Time-Outs. I could go on and on. We'll save that for another day (Yay! Right?!). Let's think of the opposite of Time-Out; Time-IN.

The idea of Time-In is to have a tool to help center and calm your child when they need it. First, you need a place. Some parents have an entire corner designated to Time-In's with some comfy pillows, books, blankets. . . others merely have a certain chair or couch they may use. Really, you can go ANYWHERE. Then, all you need is you and all that motherly love you've got just beaming inside of you. (Hehehe). Let's be honest about it; kids can easily be over-stimulated. And toddler especially have a hard time coping with all of the new emotions they are feeling. So whenever something is going on when you feel your child might need to "regroup", that's when you use the time in. The two of you go over there together, sit down, snuggle, read books, talk. . . whatever. Reconnect. Center. CALM THE F*#% DOWN. It helps children develop an emotional intelligence, increased self-awareness, and a positive self-esteem.

Let's try a similar scenario. I'll make it a girl this time as to not be sex-biased. Let's say Sally is playing with a friend (we'll call her Katie) and gets frustrated over *whatever* and throws her toy at Katie. Traditional parenting would say, "We don't throw things at people!" and put her in TO. Instead, you approach Sally, reach out and say, "Come on, let's have some time-in together". If they've been practicing time-ins, chances are she'll accept her invitation, you can carry her away from the chaos, and find a place to sit and cuddle. If it's a nursing toddler, it's also a great time to nurse. After a few minutes. . . or however long it takes. . . Sally is feeling better - you know, she's got that warm and fuzzy feeling -- and she gets up to explore. She may go back to play and if she does, you know her batteries are recharged and she is at a much better mental state to go back to playing. All is Well.

What if you have the resistant toddler? That's okay, too. Time-In is an invitation, nothing that is forced (unless you have to do so for the safety of your toddler or someone else). You can sit on the ground between the two children and begin the time-in process right there.

Some people might argue that time-in are rewarding bad behavior. These aren't dogs. For any human, aggression feels unpleasant, so it's not like they'll think, "Wow, I threw my toy and mommy came over to cuddle with me!" Ideally, you want your kids to know that they can get love, affection, and attention anytime they need it. Poor behavior due to the need for attention is another problem entirely and the behavior is merely a symptom of an unmet need (love and affection). Time-In's are simply being kind and compassionate to your child to help him learn more appropriate ways to deal with his frustrations, while still letting him know that it's okay and normal to feel that way sometimes. Kapeesh?

Spoiled Sweet

I hate it when people say, "Don't do that - you're spoiling her!"

Okay, there are some cases when "spoiling" could be a problem. A child who gets every toy they want, whenever they want it, for example. And really, I think material things are really the only good example I can think of.

When babies are very small, you hear that a lot when they cry. Thank goodness I never did, or I probably would've ripped someone a new one. And I'm not talking about sleep training, here. I'm talking about. . . when your 8 month old is crying because he wants held and another adult tries to tell you not to pick her up because that will "spoil" her. That by picking her up, she is manipulating you do fall victim to her every wish and desire. And then they wonder why their 10 month old is so clingy and having issues with separation anxiety. Babies need to feel secure, attached, and loved. Like my mom always told me, "There is no such thing as spoiling a baby!"

So once B turned one I thought I would stop hearing that. Ohhh no. Since when is meeting your child's emotional needs defined as spoiling? I understand they they need boundaries and limitations. But if I let her nurse when she wants to nurse, that's not spoiling her. I'm feeding her. If she wants picked up and I pick her up, that's not spoiling her. That's being a loving mother. If she wants me to read her a book for the 100th time and I read it, I'm not spoiling her. I'm being active in her learning. If she wants to walk instead of ride in the stroller and I let her walk, I'm not spoiling her. I'm letting her exercise and be independent. If she refuses to sit in her highchair for dinner and I don't force her, I'm not spoiling her. I'm letting her trust her own hunger cues. Ifwe go into a crowded room and I let her cling to me for 15 min (or 20 or 30 or 40) I'm not spoiling her. I'm letting her find comfort in me so that she can find her own independence when she is developmentally ready.

Really. . . the list could go on and on. I believe that babies are are cared for from birth on will grow up to be caring, empathetic children and adults. When you are sensitive to the needs of your child, they become sensitive themselves. Being able to see things from their perspective is so important no only in anticipating their needs or reactions, but in helping them learn how to be sensitive to other people's moods. I truly believe that by "spoiling" a child, you are raising a connected, careful, loving, confident, compassionate little person. Come to think of it, I LOVE spoiling B. She is growing up learning that is is safe to trust others, that the world is a warm and responsive place, at her needs will be met, and that she can be whatever kind of Velcro baby she wants because I would be thrilled to know she is capable of forming strong loving bonds with people. Not with objects. That's how I spoil my baby. How do you?