One Day More

Tomorrow is Election Day here in the states. While I've not been blatant about my pick - well unless you count the little sign over to the right of my blog page - I will say that I have already voted.

I voted for Barack Obama.

I have felt that Obama would be an excellent president ever since he spoke at the DNC back in 2004. After that, I read his book The Audacity of Hope and confirmed that his views on many subjects - politically, socially - mirror my own.

Even though I am a HUGE political news junkie, I have to admit to fatigue from this election. So with this in mind, I post the following YouTube video for your enjoyment.

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Today in my reality: Day 1

I had intended to start this a few days ago, but a cold, coupled with going out of town and my daughter's first Halloween, just pushed everything back.

Over the next 100 days, I will focus on the following goals:

1. I have a successful home based business where I use all the skills I really like to make a great income. I get to use my HR and payroll skills and knowledge every day. I use my creativity to solve problems and create products.
   
2. I am healthier today than I was yesterday because I have a moderate diet and enjoy daily exercise. I am at my perfect weight and I feel great
3. Prosperity flows in abundance in my life. Every time I pay a bill, I get 3X that amount the next week. I constantly win prizes. I find new sources of revenue EVERY SINGLE DAY.
   

I state these goals in the present, as if they've already happened. While these goals may or may not be achievable in the next 100 days, I will act as if they are already here.

Tools and Practices

• Vision Board: I have had a vision board for nearly a year now. I need to update it to match my current goals.
• Meditation: I'll spend a few minutes (no more than 10) using deep breathing techniques to quiet my mind and get myself centered on only positive thoughts and actions.
• Journaling: Yep, you guys get to read the journal. Lucky you!
• Positive Affirmations: I'll use these in my meditation sessions as well as during the day to ward off negative thoughts.

I'll go into further detail about vision boards and their uses in another post.

So that's it for today. Any questions?

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Recovering

We just got home from visiting Moo's family over the weekend.

We decorated their house for Halloween since they get kids by the truck load and we get NO - I mean ZERO trick-or-treaters. Halloween is Moo's favorite holiday so we got to try out several props... I've got pictures coming.

So, this is a short post, but I'll share a picture of my little monster with you.

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The best baby gift EVER

I love the Itzbeen.

Oh folks tell you when you have a baby that you must have swaddling blankets (you do) and you must have a wipe warmer (what kind of pretentiousness is that?), but I'm telling you: YOU MUST HAVE AN ITZBEEN.

What is an Itzbeen you ask? Well, I could say that it's a timer but that would be too simplistic. It is a timer on acid. It is a work of art. It has prevented more than one argument here at Breakdown Central. It is a GODSEND.

OK, the official description is this:

The ITZBEEN Baby Care Timer has a host of helpful features all designed with the new parent in mind. As every new parent knows, your memory is one of the first things to go when a newborn arrives. The ITZBEEN Baby Care Timer is a multi-purpose tool that helps you remember the basic details of baby care. ITZBEEN has four timers, changing, feeding, sleep or awake time. Nursing reminder, which side nursed last. Display backlight helps count up with the touch of a button...so you will always know how long it's been!

So here's the down-low: It's got 4 buttons, each with a little icon: a bottle, a diaper, zzzz's and a button for anything. When you get ready to feed the baby, you push the bottle button. When you change the baby, hit the diaper button and so on. When you hit the button, it starts a timer. There's also a little switch to denote which side you started breastfeeding from last time. Just slide the little switch and you're reminded. Later, when your kid is screaming their head off, you can look at the Itzbeen and know that the baby last ate 45 minutes ago so that may not be the issue, but the diaper button says it's been 2 hours so that's probably your best bet.

When we first brought Phoebe home, I was writing everything down, but realized that I knew just from looking how much she was eating (was only washing bottles once a day so it was easy) and I soon understood Phoebe's potty routines but that what I really needed to know was what time it was and when was the last time she ate, was changed, hold old the bottle was, etc. Enter the genius of the Itzbeen.

So now this amazing little item is my new baby shower present. It's the gadget you never knew you needed but once you get it, you won't be able to live without knowing how long ITZBEEN.

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Ways I will screw up my kid

I believe that like the previous "Things I'd never do" segment, that this will become an ongoing series where I detail how and why I will screw up my kid making her as dysfunctional as the rest of us.

First...

1. I bonked her head on the handle of the carrier the day we brought her home from the hospital. She cried and then settled down and was fine. There was the lightest mark on her pristine little head that faded quickly, but I'm sure I damaged the part of her brain that will do long division or the part of her brain that will decide what nursing home to put me in one day.
2. When she's crying hysterically or just really needy but I'm at the end of my patience, I have a tendency to put her down in her crib or pack and play and say "Kid, you'll need to hang out for a minute. I've got other stuff to do." Then, I take a break and regain my senses and then pick her up again and deal with whatever the issue is. I am sure she will have some sort of trust issues and will put me in a terrible nursing home one day.
   
3. I call her "Kid" a lot. I am sure she will never learn her proper name and will go through life saying "My name is Phoebe, but everyone calls me 'Kid'". I have always jokingly said that I thought my own middle name was "Damn it" until I was 12. I am sure this is punishment for besmirching my parent's good name.
   

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100 days old

Phoebe Elizabeth, you are officially 100 days old.

A year ago, my goal was to get pregnant for a chance at a child like you. Now? My goal for the last 100 days was surviving having a newborn.

You are a delight, Phoebe. You waken every morning with a smile. You pull your little body into the most amazing stretch every morning - both feet pulled up to your chest, your arms stretched wide.

Your daddy and I are constantly amazed that we have a child that appears to be a morning person, whereas Daddy and I are .. well, we're afternoon people.. well on second thought, your Daddy is a night owl. But, I digress.

You've started laughing this quick hearty chuckle that I can't help laughing at. I still don't know what will set off your little laugh but you seem to be developing your own sense of humor.

You are growing like a weed. You started out at 8 pounds 15 ounces and now you're up to almost 13 pounds.. you've also grown from 19-1/2 inches to nearly 24 inches long. We had to go clothes shopping for you because you've grown out of nearly all of the clothes that were gotten for you before you were born (there's a few items that are still WAY too big).

You are a fabulous eater. You're eating about 4-5 ounces every 3-4 hours. But, you know your limits. If I try to push you to finish a bottle, you wrinkle up your little nose and screw up that gorgeous little mouth. Mommy alternates between preparing bottles as needed by using room temperature water and formula powder and prepared bottles. Mommy finally got a formula pitcher to mix everything in.. there's few lumps cause Mommy takes her aggressions out in shaking the bottle!

We've got a little routine, you and I. You wake up about 5 am, about the time your daddy gets up for work. Then, you get changed and eat. Then, you take a nice long morning nap - about 3 or 4 hours. Then it's time for another bottle and you're awake for a while. Mommy loves to sit with you on her lap and just talk talk talk... then it's time for another bottle and then you're down for another nap. Your afternoon nap is about 1-1/2 to 3 hours.. and then you're up and time for another bottle. Then it's time for Daddy to come home, dinner, a little family time and then time for bed.

Have I mentioned that you're a great sleeper? You sleep through the night 5 out of 7 nights. And Mommy has learned that if she reads the signs right and puts you down when you're comfortably sleepy but not EXCRUCIATINGLY EXHAUSTED, you go to sleep with a smile on your face too.

Thank you, my darling girl, for the most exciting, most amazing 100 days. My life is forever changed. I would not trade ANYTHING for the last 100 days. And I wouldn't trade anything for being your mom.

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My little monster

Internet access was spotty and in fact went out last week. I am fending off a cold with fluids and positive thinking. (I feel great. I feel great. I am clear. My nose is clear.)

Working on a few items and hope to have some posts up soon for various projects I'm working on. Meanwhile, you need a picture of my kid to make you as happy as me.

This is my little monster. This picture was taken this past Saturday and she was a real trouper even though mommy wanted her to get pix done in both her monster Halloween costume as well as a little dress.

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Phoebe's 3 months old! and a new video!

Today, Phoebe is officially 3 months old.

She sleeps through the night - for the most part. She's an expert napper and has a growing attention span.

Fresh pictures are coming this weekend.. but meanwhile, here's a new video:

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GAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! (TMI WARNING)

Aunt Flo came with a vengeance.

I was reading in the Baby Bible (AKA What to Expect the First Year, Second Ed ) that my first period postpartum might be more painful and longer than usual so I wasn't totally shocked when I started. But what I was shocked about was how worn out I am!!

Instead of my easy 3-4 day period, I've had an 8 day period with bad cramping, heavy flow, blood clots, you name it. Thank God for the giant maxi pads I had left over from after Phoebe was born. Additionally, I am wiped out physically. Just DOG tired. I've been combating fatigue with a little extra rest and lots of fluids and it seems to be subsiding.

Found one downside to the NuvaRing though.. you gotta put that thing back in - even if you're having a period. By the time I was done getting it back in place, it looked like I'd been doing field surgery during a war. Not at all pleasant, but a lot better than taking a pill every day.

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"Don't get your socks in it!"

I am always shocked by poop.

Not my poop, but the poop of my daughter, that delicate little flower.

My mother, who routinely drove me crazy about all kinds of things, was a Poop Nazi. You see, I am not a Daily Pooper. A Daily Pooper does just that - poops daily. I am a bi-weekly to thrice-weekly pooper.

My lack of daily pooping drove my mother to distraction when I was a child. "When did you last poop? Are you constipated? Does your stomach hurt? Do you need to potty?" These were questions that I endured until I was well into adulthood.

If I was crabby, it must mean that I needed to poop. If I was distracted, I needed to poop. If my head hurt - you guessed it, I should poop. It was a cure-all - no need for fancy medicine or scientific advances in medicine, people just needed to poop more often.

My mother would be proud of my daughter. Phoebe is a daily pooper. She obviously inherited this ability from her father or from my mother's side of the family.

My first experience with Phoebe's pooping ability came on the day she came into this world. Until you have experienced meconium or a newborn's first bowel movement, you don't know what true horror is.

Moo and his mom had left the hospital get some dinner and pick up a couple of missed items at the drugstore. Almost as soon as they left, the nurses swooped into the room and got me out of bed for the first time post-c section. While I've never written about that experience (and I need to) suffice it to say that when I finally returned to my bed, I was exhausted and drained in many ways.

At this point, the nurses instructed me that Phoebe needed to be fed and probably changed. "No problem," I said. I had a tiny bottle full of formula and I had some idea of how to use it. My tiny baby sucked down 1/2 an ounce and burped beautifully. I was praised for my feeding and burping ability. Then, came time for the diaper.

I don't know what I expected from that first diaper, but it wasn't the vile, viscous, gelatinous black stuff I found on my daughter's hide. It was evenly distributed all over her hind-end. I considered running away right then, but the nurse said "Oh good, she's passing the meconium already."

I failed to see how this was good, as I was convinced that we needed a priest but never the less went to work trying to clean this stuff up. It laughed at the provided baby wipes - I used half a dozen to attempt to mop the goop up, but the moisture just seemed to make it spread. I expressed my concern about the lasting power of this stuff and the nurse suggested a warm wash cloth. This was slightly more useful, but I never want to know what happened to that cloth or if it came into contact with anyone's face.

Even now, every time I open Phoebe's diaper and am met with poop, I express my shock by saying loudly:

"Good grief!"

or

"What am I feeding you? How did you get birdseed in your poop?"

or my favorite: "Don't get your socks in it!" as my incredibly flexible daughter touches her bottom with her little sock covered feet.

One day, I will get over my poop shock, right now, I'm just trying to resist the urge to be a poop nazi.

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