Saturday, March 26, 2011

A Mailbox Adventure

I'll just dive right in on this one, it really needs no introduction.

Wyatt is getting his two front teeth, so the majority of the day he's been fussy. Actually, more like whining -- he's such a sweet boy, he really doesn't get upset for much to be "fussy". Anyway! Wade left to go to a basketball game, and me and the Mister Sir were spending some quality time in the bouncer. Then the whining started. I made a bowl of rice cereal for his "snacktime" -- fail. I sat him on the floor to play with toys -- fail. We bounced up and down singing songs -- major fail. So I decided to take him outside, because outside fixes everything.

And so our adventure began.

As I was walking out the door, he yawned, and I realized it was probably naptime. "Ok," I thought, "We'll just walk down the street to the mailbox, grab the mail, and come back for naptime."

And so we walked. He calmed down, I grabbed the mail, turned around and walked home. I lifted my keys up to unlock the front door...and wait. Where's my key? Where's my --my brain at this point flashed to the exact location of the key (which, seriously, that would come WAY more in handy at 6 in the morning when I'm trying to find my car keys, but whatever.)-- key. In the cup holder. Of my car. In the garage. In the locked. House.
Ugh. Total Fail.

"Ok, no big deal" I thought. We can just walk around to the back porch and let ourselves in, because maybe this will be one of those random times we left the back door unlocked. Note to burglars: We never leave our doors locked. This entire story proves that, thanks for trying.

I open the fence, and we walk all the way around the backyard, up the patio and step over our sleeping dog Duchess, who obviously knew it was me breaking into the backyard or she would have woken up and growled ferociously, burglars take note. I tried the door, and of course it was locked. Back around the house, Wyatt being so sweet this entire time thank the Lord! I tried to lift the garage door up (can't you do that?), and yeah that thing wasn't going anywhere.

Now I realize it's getting hot, and sweet Baby's cheekers are all rosy from the sunburn he's probably getting, because he is his father's child. And of course this is the weekend my neighbor/friend Lori is out of town, so no luck hanging out there til Wade gets home, and after walking down the street to the mailbox again to check if my other neighbor/friend Brekken is home (nope!), we walked back and sat in our other car parked in the driveway. It was then that I found the bobby pins.

 I tried to pick our lock with bobby pins, ya'll, and I'm not even kidding, I was so disappointed when it didn't work like it does in the movies! I obviously have no MacGiver skills, because my next brief thought was to break a window to get in. Don't judge me, it was Naptime and I had major house cleaning to do!

Now I'm sweating/glowing, Wyatt keeps looking at me like I'm crazy, and Wade's not due home for another HOUR. I grabbed a jacket from the car and thought about hanging out on the back porch, but it was just too hot. Last option: visit my next door neighbors. Whom I've really only waved to in passing. Because they only speak Spanish.

But it was Naptime. And it was also apparently the first day of Summer. So. Hot!

Thank you Lord they were home! And of course as soon as she opened the door, I totally went blank on every single Spanish word I knew, and ended up gesturing like an idiot. :). I called Wade from her phone, and spent the next hour watching Spanish cartoons with her daughters and laughing with her as we tried to communicate.

Then Wade came and walked me home, I put Wyatt to bed, and sat on the couch and ate a huge bowl of ice cream. I think it was deserved. :)


(pardon the comb over, it was a rough afternoon :) )

Sunday, March 20, 2011

A Birth Story

My baby is 6 months old today. HOW did that happen so fast?! That is such a "parent" thing to say, but it's true: you blink and they've morphed into a little person.
My younger brother and his wife recently joined the preggo bandwagon, and their little one is due in September, which means Wyatt and Baby G will only be a year apart (so fun!) and that Britt and I will have had the same "preggo months" (also so fun!). We were talking yesterday about being pregnant, feeling fat, and being so excited for that baby to get here; I know I was in her shoes in the not-so-distant past, but it does feel like another lifetime ago.
This morning, Wyatt was up at 6:30, which meant Dad and Mama were also up at 6:30. After his bottle and a bowl of rice cereal (Ms. Rosa, I hope you're reading this :)!), we sat and played for a little bit, then he went down for a nap. We have church on Sunday nights, so Sunday mornings are usually filled with lots of down time for us. I cranked up some worship music, which just so happened to be the playlist that was supposed to play while I was in labor with Wyatt, which led me to realize it's the 20th today, which leads me to this post: Wyatt's Birth Story. Sorry I'm rambling a little, coffee is still in the process of kicking in :).

 
(2 months pregnant, and 40 weeks pregnant-and-enormous)

My original due date was 09/18, but at my check up earlier that week, I had zero progression and had only experienced a few Braxton-Hicks contractions, so we decided to go ahead and schedule an induction for 09/19; I still wanted to experience going into labor on my own, but since I was so huge at that point, and walking from my car to my desk every morning at work was making me winded, I didn't want to go many more days past the 40 week mark. I started having some back contractions early Thursday morning, and called into work thinking that might be the day. Wrong! The 18th came, and went. I walked, did lunges, squats, you name it, I tried it and nothing! Even watching that miserable Tech/UT game didn't help!

Sunday morning we slept until 9, and I woke up realizing that would probably be the last time to sleep that late for a looooong time. The bags were packed, I had a zillion lists floating around the house of things we needed to bring, things we needed to triple check that they were ready, a list for my mom and Wade's mom who would be staying at our house while we were in the hospital; I was nothing if not prepared :). I had made a playlist of my favorite worship music, that was to be played in the background as I gave birth, I had pre-registered at the hospital,  gone to birthing and nursing classes, I even packed makeup. I didn't mean to be "That Pregnant Lady", but I totally was! We spent the day as just the two of us, and prayed before we left the house knowing we would be coming home with a precious little third person.

As we pulled into the hospital parking lot, I started noticing mild contractions. We unloaded the car and headed to the "check in" point inside. Of course they "misplaced" my information and after an hour of filling out more paperwork and correcting the registration lady ("Um, it's SLA-ton, not Salton."), we were upstairs, ready to get this show on the road!
I had the sweetest nurses ever (which is SO much more important than packing your makeup), and after they started the induction process, we waited. And waited. And waited. And then turned on tv and watched the Giants/Colts game, because although I was technically in labor, I still love me some Manning brothers :). Out of nowhere, Back Contractions. In caps, because that's exactly how they felt. My pre-labor self had decided to wait as long as possible before getting any type of pain meds...and I lasted about 2 hours max. After feeling like a total wimp, I finally told the nurse and she started me on some iv meds. Pure bliss, for a couple of hours. I still wasn't progressing despite the contractions. I had the worst back pain EVER and could only walk a couple of steps before sitting back down on the bed. I was so worried Wyatt was "sunny-side up", and after checking, the nurse confirmed my fear. She patted my hand and said, "we'll try to move him, but this may be hard for you, sweetheart. But I know you can do it." So I prayed and rolled on my side. And then threw up.

Fast forward to 4am: My nurse came back in to check me, and told me I was MAYBE a 2. "A TWO?!" I said, "Are you kidding me?!" I was dry heaving, rocking back and forth on the bed, in so much pain I couldn't think straight. But every time I was asked, I said the same thing: "My pain is about a 6 out of 10." I was in so much pain, but I knew this was probably just the beginning of what I was about to experience, so I was afraid to go any higher! She came up with the brilliant idea that if we could talk the anesthesiologist into giving my epidural early, it would maybe help my body relax enough to progress easier.
An hour later, I had dragged Wade, the labor nurse, and my iv stand into the bathroom. I had someone holding my hair back, someone holding the blue vomit bag in front of my face, and I was bracing myself over the toilet. I looked up, groaning in pain, and saw my anesthesiologist, who looked at me like I was the craziest thing he had ever seen, and asked with the most serious face, "You need an epidural?" Lovely.

From 5-6am, I rested. We gave up trying to make the ipod station in the room work, so no worship music for us. Wade was able to lay down for a bit, and I think I slept. A few minutes later, Wade was in the bathroom and 3 nurses were at my bedside. I had progressed from a 2 to a 7 in under 2 hours, but the look of my nurse's face said something else was going on. They told me Wyatt had turned but they kept rubbing my tummy around. Wade came over and I told him excitedly that I was a 7 and looked at the nurse for a smile, but they quietly told us baby's heart rate had dropped and they were trying to stimulate him. This had happened earlier, before my epidural, so I didn't think much of it at first. But they were all so serious, it scared me. I remember being so concerned about him getting oxygen, so I started taking as deep, big breaths as possible. They called the on-call Dr in to check on me, and she told us Wyatt needed to come out as soon as possible.  Just typing that still makes my heart stop; Wade told me later that his hb had been down to 80. So much happened so fast. One nurse stopped my epi drip, another pulled the racks up on my bed, and another handed Wade scrubs to change into for the C-section. I couldn't speak, so I just started praying and as they wheeled me out, I told Wade to do the same.

They ran me down to a room down the hall, and started me on a spinal. I just laid there, shaking uncontrollably and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the Dr's concerned tone and face. Wyatt's heart beat jumped up a little by the time we got down the hall, so they decided to wait a few more minutes to see what happened. Wade was told to wait in the hallway, so it was just me and the doctors and nurses in that cold, little room. Those could have easily been the most agonizing minutes of my life, but I felt this huge wave of peace wash over me. Bible verses I had not thought of in years filled my head: "Trust in the Lord your God, and lean not on your own understanding", "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. " And my absolute favorite verse, "Be still, and know that I am God." This child had been God's from the very beginning, that fact became so very evident as I lay there, totally helpless, totally relying on God to help His child. Finally, the Dr told me the heart rate was back up to the 120's, and she gave the ok for me to be wheeled back to my room to have this baby! Praise God!

By this point, it was 7:30, and my nurses had to go home. My new nurse, Michelle came in, introduced herself, and told me to rest up. HA! Wade laid down to rest but didn't sleep, and all I could do was listen to the monitor for that tiny little heart beat and count my contractions. I was still numb from the waist down, so they had decided to leave me off the epidural drip so I could get total feeling back by the time it was time to push. By 9:30, I was a 10 and Michelle told me I could start pushing. I felt a rush of adrenaline, and she started my drip back at the lowest level possible.  The contractions were intense, (I was still saying my pain was a 6-7/10 because I was afraid of how much worse it could get!), and pushing felt so great, I figured this baby would be out in no time!

False! I pushed for 2 1/2 hours. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, and I remember specifically thinking about Eve, and how much nicer this would go if she hadn't eaten that stupid fruit. Towards the very end, I realized my drip was still on low so we cranked that bad boy up a notch! About 5 minutes later, the Dr  came in to help coach me along; it was then that we realized my contractions were coming in "clusters" instead of nice little waves, so there was little resting in between them to say the least! At about 12:24, Dr Rush said she thought I had a few more pushes left before he came, and said I could either wait and rest during this next contraction or I could push if I thought I had enough strength. Um, push please! And then all of a sudden, there he was!


Head full of hair, he peed on Dr. Rush in a gesture of thanks and was laid on my tummy. I just stared at him, it was so surreal. For 9/10 months I had been carrying him around, and to finally look at his face was incredible. Wade was totally smitten and followed him over as he was cleaned up and weighed. Mister baby was 8 lbs, 5 oz, 22 inches long, and had the sweetest little cry I had ever heard.

I don't think there are words big enough on this earth to tell God how thankful we are for this little blessing He's given us. I'm reminded every day how totally dependent he is on us, and how we rely totally on God for our every need. When I look at his little face, my heart aches with love, and I realize just how much God delights in and loves us. How much He wants to have a relationship with us, His children. To sacrifice His own Son in our place, so that we may never know eternal death but have eternal LIFE in Him. So very humbling, and so very, very awesome. 

"You are everything that is bright and clean
And You’re covering me with Your majesty
And the truest sign of grace was this
From wounded hands, redemption fell down
Liberating man...

But the harder I try, the more clearly can I
Feel the depth of our fall, and the weight of it all. 
And so this might could be the most impossible thing,
Your grandness in me making me clean"

--David Crowder Band, "Wholly Yours"

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

March is for Madness

Once upon a time, there was a girl. A suburban, musical-loving, never-played-a-sport-in-her-life girl. Who was head-over-heels in "like" with a boy named Wade. A fresh-off-the-farm, I-have-played-every-sport-imaginable boy who, one fateful evening, invited her out. To a basketball game. "Of course!", she said. "I LOVE basketball games!", she said. And so she went, quietly watching him for cues on when to cheer, when to sit in silence, and when to yell loudly at the refs. He bought it, married her, and they lived happily ever after.


Flash forward 5 years...

Wade: "Sweets, come in here. We're not going to bed until you finish your bracket."
Me (looking at the clock, bewildered that it's already 9 and we haven't washed a single baby bottle): "No wait! I haven't even researched any teams yet! And it's 9 o'clock! This will take forever!"
Wade: "Nobody researches teams. Just do it."
Me: "Fine."

10 minutes later...

Me: "I put 'Villie' instead of Villanova for short, b/c that's their nickname. Haha!"
Wade: "Ok fine, can you just finish that side?"

5 minutes later...

Wade: "Quit looking at mine, that's cheating!"
Me: "This is hard, I want to skip these."
Wade: (sigh) "You can't skip them! You have to finish!"

3 minutes later...

Me: "Wait...they're not called 'Villie', they're called 'Nova' for short! Argh dang it!"
Wade: "I finished."

2 minutes later...

Me: "Instead of putting Notre Dame, I put..."(swinging my bracket around to show Wade)
Wade: "...Rudy. (Sigh)"

He loves me.


In fact, he loves me so much (if you're even still reading this, sweet friends!), that he bought me this as an early birthday present. Actually, before I post the picture, it deserves a back story.
I grew up just outside of Ft. Worth (hooray Cowtown!), and some of my absolute favorite memories are of my family's trips to the Rangers games. I am not a baseball expert by any means, but I loved the experience you get going to ball games as a kid. We went for bat night, t-shirt night, ice-cream-in-a-small-plastic-helmet night, and my all time favorite: Dollar Hot Dog Night. It deserves all caps. Even at a young age I knew anything for a dollar is WAY better than paying full price, especially when it comes to hot dogs. In fact, when I was pregnant, I specifically craved the hot dogs from the Ballpark in Arlington. Specifically from, you guessed it, Dollar Hot Dog Night.

But now, I live outside of Austin, 3 hours away from the Rangers. The closest thing we have is the Round Rock Express and a subdivision named after Nolan Ryan (I tried to convince the husband we should live there when we were house hunting, he didn't go for it). So no more hot dogs on warm summer nights watching the Rangers.
Until this came home with Wade today...
Two tickets to the Round Rock Express game! And not just any game...they are playing the RANGERS in some kind of pre-season show down! I was totally surprised! Sweets did such a good job!!!

If it's dollar hot dog night, I might just hyperventilate.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Random Ramblings for a Monday

Happy Monday friends! I am struggling to even put together sentences today, so don't expect this post to be too insightful :). Instead, I will throw out random thoughts, because that's really all my brain is capable of doing today.


1.) I have discovered the secret to quickly shedding any remaining "post baby" pounds. And the secret is... get a stomach bug. Hooray! Wade and I were both hit HARD last week with the 24 hour virus from hell. And I do mean hell. The last time I spent that much time in the bathroom, I was in junior high trying to figure out how to do my hair. Horrible! Thank You Jesus Wyatt was totally covered in prayer and didn't get it. You better believe I took a Clorox wipe to every door knob and light switch in this house!

2.) Daylight Savings Time: not my friend today.

3.) We took family pictures this weekend and it went perfectly. I was in a fabulous mood, my son gave out huge smiles for every single picture, my husband and I communicated like champs, and my hair looked amazing.

4.) The second sentence in #3 was totally false. See #2 for an explanation.

5.) I feel bad for #3 now. Our photographer was super sweet, I am very very grateful that she even could fit us in her schedule. My son is a baby; you would think I would know by now to lower my expectations to zero since we're still figuring out this whole "parenting" thing. Wade has more patience with me than I deserve, and he looked great in his new blue polo that was purchased at Old Navy for so cheap I wanted to leave the price tag on. And I should know by now that if I'm spending over 30 minutes curling my hair, of course it's going to be windy and cause the gallon of hairspray I put on to actually glue the hair together in clumps of tangled mess. Of course.

6.) Wade's mom and grandma are in town for part of spring break, so Wyatt got to meet his great-grandma for the first time. So sweet! He already loves them and has been giving out lots of smiles and laughs.

7.) I think that about does it for today. I'll post pics of this weekend and the family pics once they are ready; for now, I'll leave you with one of my favs. Also taken after I spent too much time on my hair and of-course-it-was-windy-outside. Happy Monday!

Monday, March 7, 2011

Something I need to get off my chest....

Pay close attention to the pictures I'm about to show you: 





Seriously....


I promise my child is capable of putting his arms down. 

I also just realized someone-probably-me accidentally erased all our pictures from our January album on our computer.  Ugh! Ok, phew, heart attack over, found them safe and sound on the camera. 

I knew there was another one! :)


Saturday, March 5, 2011

Thank God He's A Country Boy...

I'm on my second load of laundry, the baby is napping, I just purchased a Justin Timberlake song and a Norah Jones song from itunes for 69 cents each, and I'm on my 2nd cup of coffee. Happy Saturday morning!

I'm having a bit of a writers block this morning (it's probably the caffeine taking over my brain synapses) (yes, I just used "synapses" on a Saturday morning...I think that deserves another cup!).
I just bought a John Denver song-- I'll share at the end of the post, get excited -- it makes me think of Wade every time I hear it, so what a great time to write about him! :)



We have been married for almost 4 years now, this past year has been filled with extreme ups and downs, but looking back I am so grateful God let us walk through that together. We just went through The Love Dare at church (check it out, it will totally change your marriage for the better!), and one of the questions brought up in the study was about how you go through conflict together: do you cling to each other or claw at each other?
As much as I would love to say I cling to him at the first sign of something going wrong, I am quick to claw! Last September, 2 weeks before my due date and 2 months after we bought our new home, our hot water heater decided he hated the blue carpet as much as I did and overflowed, flooding our entire hallway, closets, and most of the bedrooms. Sweet, brave Husband was home by the Grace of God, and tried to stop the flow, somehow using a garden hose to siphon the GUSHING water from the tank to outside our garage. All this in the pouring rain, at 7 in the morning. I was already at work, fat-pregnant-and-hormonal, and when I got the call, I went to tell my supervisor, and just started crying.

I came home to this:










Our makeshift Hotel Slaton, camping out in the Man Room, trying to ignore the gentle airplane roar of the 12 fans taking up our bathrooms and bedrooms. 
Needless to say, I freaked. That night, trying to waddle past the fans to take a shower, I had a monumental breakdown in the middle of our bathroom. Mon-U-Mental. But Husband just waited it out, clawed back a little to get me to snap back to reality, and then gave me a hug. Which of course made me cry even more.


I am in no way saying we are perfect people. Far from it. But we are loved by our powerful, perfect God, who led us through those trials to strengthen us.  The same God who blessed us with a child 11 days later.
The same God who, over 8 years ago, led me 5 hours away from my hometown in the 'burbs of Ft. Worth to the sprawling flatlands of West Texas to meet my Country Boy.
*Thankful :)*

And now, an Ode To Wade, brought to you by John Denver...



Love you Sweets!