Fast and Furious

Dude. Seriously. This kid is in milestone overdrive. Last night, Wyatt crawled for the first time! He's been taking a few "steps" before losing his focus, but he's done it several times, so we know he has the mechanics down. He ought to be a speeding bullet of a rug rat in no time. As I mentioned in my last post, he's also learning to climb. We finally lowered his crib in order to prevent him from taking a dive over the top. Last night he also attempted to pull himself up to a standing position on the couch. He couldn't quite get there, but he looked determined, which seems to garner quick results in Wyatt land. I'm also trying to teach him how to crawl down backwards from the couch. I got a picture of him on my cell phone standing steady after a crawl-down lesson, and I expect we'll see more of this pose as he figures out how to pull all the way to standing. And since every time he's in a standing position, he tries to take steps, I foresee an early walker... I keep having to remind myself that my milestone-ramming, super tall little boy is really only 7 months old. Sometimes he looks so much older than that. Oh, but those chubby cheeks give him away... :)

I'm also happy to report that yesterday I slipped into the jeans I wore for my engagement pictures two years ago. I wore them comfortably for most of the day until Wyatt managed to get carrots on them. Fun with laundry! But it felt great. I'm not quite to my goal weight yet, but getting into some of my skinnier clothes is definitely incentive to keep fighting the good fight. It'll probably take a "mom job" after we're done having kids to get me back into my favorite bikini, but I sure do have a lot of great jeans I'll be thrilled to wear all winter. :)

More about me, me, me: I've been wrestling with an old manuscript lately. (Yes, reading Twilight inspired me.) I love my characters and the premise, but something was eating at me as I tried to move the story forward. Well, I figured it out! Now I can move forward, and potentially finish this thing! I realize this is kind of cryptic, since I'm not going to reveal my secret ingredient... or even the kind of recipe for that matter, ha ha, but I just had to share. I made a breakthrough. And for a writer, that kicks ass. :)

Here's the happy mama with her munchkin. I so rarely have pictures of myself posted anywhere, so I figured I'd drop in and say hello:

Good Bye, April Showers.

It's May now. Bring on those flowers! Here's a weird thought: The only month Wyatt had ever experienced until now was April. And now he's experiencing May. :) He'll be 5 weeks old tomorrow. For you and me, 5 weeks don't necessarily amount to much. But this kid just keeps changing. (I realize this isn't news to anyone, but it's a whole new ball game when suddenly it's your own kid who's changing fast!) Here are a few of the changes:

First, this kid weighs almost 11 pounds now. Just to give you some perspective, that means he's gained like 75% of his original body weight in 5 weeks. (I didn't actually do very specific math, so I could be off by a bit, but you get the idea.) He's gone from wearing newborn size diapers to Size 1. I think he'll be in size 2 before long. Luckily, he's still wearing his 0-3 month size clothes. (Well, except the Gerber onesies, which are made for midgets and fit him for about a day.) This is good because we're getting use out of the smaller sizes, but I'm also looking forward to getting to change his wardrobe. :) I'm living vicariously through him, since I have to drop all my baby weight before I'll have lots of clothing options again... SIGH.

Second, he likes toys. He's fascinated by things that jingle, swing, move, or play music. He looks us in the eye and follows our gaze, and he makes the cutest little noises. This probably doesn't sound like much, but you have to remember just how little newborn babies actually do. When he was born he pretty much just stared into space, slept, ate, pooped and cried. He certainly didn't play and he really didn't acknowledge the existence of other human beings. So suddenly our cute little blob is seeming more like a little person. :)

There is no third. I mean, I'm sure there are tons of things that have changed, but nothing else I feel like blogging about. That's tough on Americans. We like our information in 3's. :)

There's one other thing I totally have to write about. I found out that my husband is a diaper snob. We're a Huggies family. I totally thought Ryan would think that diapers are diapers. That he'd roll his eyes at the idea of paying more for a specific brand name. But having an awesome man who changes his share of the messy little numbers means he has an actual opinion based on actual experience! The cheapies aren't the same. They're more likely to leak and they don't get the mess away from Wyatt's skin as well, so they're more of a pain to change. Heck, even Pampers don't measure up. It's Huggies or the highway. Talk about a conversation I never imagined having... :)

Our chubby tough guy at 4 1/2 weeks old:

Playing the Fool

Yesterday, Wyatt hit the 4 week mark. I have no idea what that means, ha ha, but I guess we're still counting in weeks for a while. I wonder how old I am in weeks... Nope... too lazy to do the math. Never mind.

So anyway, for a few days now, our child has been attempting to make fools of his mom and dad. And who better to do it than a child born on April 1st? He has a new trick. Crying for what seems to be no reason. Fed? Check. Clean diaper? Check. Comfortable clothing and temperature? Sure, as far as we can tell. Healthy? Yes, actually, although he's tried to fool us there a couple times too, with the newborn stuffies. Gas drops? Yep, we try those, too.

He's also employing some manipulative behaviors that all the baby books swore wouldn't start until he was about 3 months old. For instance, "Neh". The Dunston baby language DVD clearly told us that "Neh" means hungry. For about the first 2 weeks, that was pretty dead on. But now, Wyatt has learned that if you throw the "Neh" into the mix, mom or dad will come running with a boob or a bottle. He even tries to use that ace card like 10 minutes after he finishes eating. (Even if it was one of those times he had a bottle, so we know he just downed 4oz.) "Neeeeeeeeeeh. Neeeeeeeeeeh. Feed me. I'm starving to death!" Is it colic? Well, no, not technically, right? Because it doesn't go on for 3 hours straight. (And honestly, if it did go on for 3 hours straight, I probably would have started using noise-cancelling headphones.) Usually, he fusses for about an hour or so at a time, several times a day, especially in the evening. It sucks. We love the little dude, but he's trying as hard as he can to be less likeable....

But then he goes and smiles at me, and I kind of forget that he's on my bad list. Seriously, you try holding a grudge against those big blue eyes. It's work. And so I tend to give in and believe everything that tiny smile suggests: "I'm done with my fussy stage, mom. From now on, it's all cute, all the time." Two minutes later? "Neh!!!!!" Go figure.

More snapshots of the little dude playing me the fool:

Coping with Imperfection

My sister-in-law said it best when she told me being a new mom is like starting a new job with no experience and being expected to know what you're doing. She's right. And there's no warming up period. You're pregnant one day and thrown into the deep end of motherhood the next. I can honestly say that I'm not very good at this. And if I'm perfectly frank, there are days I wish this were a job I could just quit. I love my son. That's part of the problem. If I didn't love him so much, maybe I wouldn't feel so horrible about not being very good at this. But instead, all I want is to get it figured out, so I don't mess him up. So I don't mess my own life up in the process. I want him to be happy and content. And he seems pretty miserable half the time, which breaks my heart.

I've read enough to realize that I'm still floating through the "baby blues". I come up for air sometimes. Occasionally, when I get enough sleep, I feel almost human again. But eventually, even well-rested, the gray cloud comes back and I wish I could just run for the hills. I want to be good at this. I want to be one of those women who realize this is what they were born for. I'm praying that maybe I'll feel a little more like that once I get past the first 6 weeks... or maybe the first 3 months... depending on who I talk to.

Breastfeeding may be part of the problem, too. I'm doing it exclusively, and at the moment, it makes me feel like a prisoner. I hate feeding or changing him in public, so I dread all outings. My version of time to myself is running out to pick up some take-out for dinner while Ryan watches Wyatt as quickly after a feeding as possible so I get home in time to feed him again. I'm grateful for those little blocks of time, but until I can either pump enough to get more than an hour or two away (something I haven't figured out how to do, and in what time to do it in) or else put the little guy on formula (which I have in my head might make me a bad mother, since breast milk is so much better for him - how selfish of me to even want it, right? ...sigh), I don't think I'll really feel like much more than a glorified cow who doesn't speak the language of her calf.

So, yes, this is a little more of the storm. And while there are moments of sunshine - Wyatt has started smiling frequently, usually in his sleep or when he's starting to drift off, and he is still insanely adorable - the storm is still the point leader.

The Storm and the Sun

As I waited to give birth to my son, there was a lot of talk of "the calm before the storm". I can now describe a little about the storm. The first few days were kind of rough. Beautiful, magical, and rough. First, there's just the physical recovery. Let's face it: They don't call it "labor" for nothing. :) I've also experienced what 80% of women experience: the baby blues. And I've realized that they have nothing to do with mental instability and everything to do with circumstance. Sure, your hormones are a little crazy, but more than anything, you're just so sleep deprived, you get weepy. And when that sleep deprivation comes from a new baby, you also feel overwhelmed. You get a little scared that you'll never sleep well again. And, you get a little lonely, because no matter how beautiful your baby is, he can't talk to you or reassure you or even listen with understanding to what you have to say. I cried in the middle of the night at first when Wyatt had his days and nights mixed up and wouldn't sleep for hours at a time. I would sing to him through tears. I've been a chubby, weepy, physically less-than-completely-healed mess. And so, I experienced some stormy weather.

Now for the sunny weather. We discovered that if we keep Wyatt awake and stimulated as much as possible in the evening, and give him a sponge bath before bed, he seems to associate night more with sleeping. And so, last night, he slept for two blocks of three hours each. That gave me almost 6 hours of sleep. Six hours. I felt like a new human being this morning. I had energy. I enjoyed every moment with my son. I got dressed in one of the cute tops Ryan picked up for me when I realized I had nothing that felt right for the postpartum bod. It's amazing how much sleep can effect your outlook on life!

Oh, and here's the kicker: I weighed myself this morning. And although I still weigh more than I ever thought possible, I was excited to see that I've already lost 17 pounds in 6 days. 10 pounds since I've been home from the hospital. And I know there's still more water weight that'll come off pretty fast because I still have cankles and puffy feet. It's pretty nice to know that my starting point for the long journey to a pre-preggo body is going to be a little lighter than what I'd assumed. Don't get me wrong. It'll be a lot of work. But every pound that drops off now is one less I'll have to lose later. And that, my friends, is true sunshine.

Here are some new pics of the little dude:

The New Guy

I know as soon as I get going on this blog, my beautiful, much awaited son Wyatt will be waking up to eat. But we'll see how far I get... :)



The last time I wrote, I was in the early stages of labor. The stages where you can still communicate like a human being and do normal things like sit on a couch with a computer on your lap! Little did I know that it would be thirty-some odd hours later before I would actually meet Wyatt. It turns out, despite all my mind-over-matter will power to the contrary, I would have the kind of long labor they warn first-time moms about. And so, my March baby played the ultimate April Fool's Day joke on me by coming in April! Here are his vital statistics:



Wyatt William Kuhns

Born: 4/1/08 @ 1:34pm

7lbs 6oz, 20 1/2" long



He's a really good looking kid. He looks a lot like his daddy with light brown hair and big blue eyes. We're almost certain they will stay blue because Ryan and I both have blue eyes. Mine are a little greener now, but they didn't change until I was a teenager, so either way... He's also a really mellow little dude. It takes a lot to get him mad enough to really cry. He'll fuss if he's hungry or uncomfortable, but for now at least, it's just enough to get your attention. I think God knew I was going to have kind of a rough recovery physically, so He gave me a baby with a lot of patience. Now, I can't guarantee that he'll stay this way, but hopefully he will be at least long enough for me to get fully mobile again.



Well, I made it through my first blog as a mom without having my son wake up to eat. Pretty stinking impressive. I'm sure there will be more later, but for now, here's some eye candy to tide you over.

Gentlemen, Start Your Engines...

It's the middle of the night. Well, 1:23 am, which is very much the middle of the night for Ryan and I these days. Not so long ago for me, this would have been more like bedtime... but I digress. For the last hour, I've been having contractions about 10 minutes apart. I'm thinking this is early labor, and I'm debating when to wake up my blissfully dead-asleep husband with the news that if things continue in this fashion, we may be getting our March baby after all, right under the wire. I figure this early labor will probably last for quite a while, especially with a first pregnancy, so there's no sense creating two exhausted people instead of just one. He'll be much more use to me later if he's had enough shut-eye! :)

So, to entertain myself (and maybe you too, as a side benefit), I will now attempt to describe these contractions. For the ladies, it's a pretty easy jump. In this stage, they feel like cramps. They hurt more than the light ones you notice but ignore when you're PMSing, but they aren't as bad (YET, obviously) as the ones that have you rummaging for the fetal position and a heating pad. They're like I-definitely-need-4-Advil cramps, but they come in waves instead of just hanging out, tormenting you. I fully expect them to intensify as the night goes on (at least if Wyatt's really gonna make an appearance sometime tomorrow), but for now, they're just uncomfortable and frequent enough to keep me from sleeping.

Needless to say, I am no longer on strike.

The stats: I'm in the wee hours of 2 days past my due date. I'm in early labor, and I think Wyatt's birthday is going to be March 31st! Rock on...