Have a splendid weekend!

Have a splendid weekend with the ones you love!

Beach Day

I did it.

I parked in the "pay lot" at Tamarack beach.  As I pulled up to meet my friends, The Tiny in his car seat, I started running through my head all the items I needed to actually schelp with me for our time in the sun--and I still couldn't quite believe I was paying to park--at the beach. (By "time in the sun" I mean umbrella shaded, with spf 50, baby rashguard, and wide brimmed baby hat.  Hence the schelping)  But, the sun was technically shining.

So, I did it.  I parked my car.  I got out.  Set up the stroller.  Walked all the way to the meter.  Put in two dollars.  Walked back to my car.  Displayed ticket.

and

it

was

GLORIOUS!


My goodness, I had to walk about 20 feet from that point to meet up with my friends.  I had two bags or various content types; diaper or beach, that hung off the stoller as I forcefully pushed it though the sand.

20 feet.

I think I may just be addicted to how convenient this is.  Gone are the days of only having to bring some flip flops, book and towel if I remembered it.

But there is a new person in my life who requires a bit more thought.

And heck, our time at the beach was worth $2.

Moral of the story.  Life changes.  Yes I love being frugal, but sometimes as a new mom you have to go easy on yourself and do little things that will make life easier.  Plus, you never know if you are missing our on something glorious.

The Tiny's moral of the story?

"I FLIPPIN' LOVE THE BEACH!!!!"

And he strikes again...

New facebook message I got in my in box.  I bet you can guess who it's from:

 "Aww, girl.  Why you gotta spread our business around to everyone?  I know you were mad at me, but I thought we were past that.  Listen, I know you get all upset when you think I hurt your stomach, but it's not me--and you know I don't mean it, girl.  Let's get back together, and stop telling other people about me and showing them ways to avoid me.  You're making me out like the bad guy, when I am just innocently tryin' to love you."

Oh dairy.  You're so ghetto.

As it turns out, diary was two timing me.  He wasn't just abusing me, but many of my friends came out of the woodwork, sharing that they too, were victims of dairy's wiles.

It's like an underground club, and I have never been more happy that I started this blog because people have been giving me GREAT ideas on diary free alternative.  (Yeah you huuurd me dairy!)

So at the store yesterday, I didn't want to get too crazy too quick.  I decided I'd try one new thing each week I went shopping.

And flippin' good thing I DID!  Andrew and I had just about the best frozen confection I can remember having.  Ohh yeah!  This treat suggested by the lovely Lisa K.

My plan was to take some sort of editorial pictures of us eating them, but we may or may not have eaten them too quickly to bother with a camera....

So here's a stock photo:

And it's true.  The little treats really are SO delicious.  Organic and made with coconut milk.  Coconut milk is like dairy's good looking, kind and responsible arch cousin who knows how to treat a lady, and a Tiny.  Yes, I will be seeing you again, my dear.  Call me up anytime.

So you know what friends?  I say we band together, raise our creamy mini desserts together in hand and delcare that we are much too good for dairy.

Yeah, I said it.

Summer Style

Yellow! I am crazy about yellow right now

Look at this great yellow skirt dress! Perfectly flowey and bright for summer, and I love

the cap sleeves! This may just be the perfect dress for summer.

Here's another great summer piece. This skirt looks easy, like you

could throw it on with any tank top for an easy look.

I love summer clothes!

Becuase I love you, and these muffins...

Oh my.

Oh my my.

These are good.  Very good.

Chocolate Chip Cherry Muffins with Almond Extract

(Non-Dairy, obvi)

Ok, recently I have have been making a batch of muffins a least every 2 weeks, sometimes weekly.  The joke around here is that before Andrew can answer the question, "Do you want muffins?" I am already pouring the batter from my mixer into the tins.  (And this is from someone who didn't even eat baked good very often pre-pregnancy)

Ok, so this recipe is AH-MAZAING!  And I should know, we've been eating a lot of muffins, I tell ya.

Ingredients

• 2 cups all purpose flour
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup whole wheat flour (But if you don't have it, just use more white flour, no bigs)
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 egg, lightly beaten, room temperature
• 1/2 cup milk (lactaid)
• 1/3 cup sour cream substitute, like "SOUR SUPREME" Toffufi brand (and really if you're non-dairy, have this on hand, it's delish.  Or do 1/3 cup Greek yogurt.  Or just sour cream if you like dairy--TRAITOR!) 
• 4 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil (Or butter if you're a dairy lover)
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
• 1 1/2 cups frozen or fresh sweet cherries, thawed and roughly chopped
• 1/2 cup mini semi sweet chocolate chips

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400° F  (Unless you have tubro, over achiever oven, like mine and always have to do 25 degree lower than called for.  Sheesh)  Then spray your muffin tin with non-stick spray.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, whole wheat flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt with a fork and set aside.

**Bakers Tip:  With cooking you can get creative, but with baking you have to be exact.  I learned from a class that the best way to measure flour is not to scoop it up with your measurer (because they compacts it and give you more than desired) but to scoop the flour into the measuring cup with a large spoon, then level with a knife.  I know, one extra step, but well worth it for perfect muffins!

3. In a large bowl (Or preferably a Kitchen Aid mixer ;), whisk together egg, milk, sour cream substitute of choice, oil and almond extract. Stir in cherries and chocolate chips. Add flour mixture and stir until just blended (Don't over mix or the muffins will get too chewy).

4. Fill each muffin cup 3/4 full with batter.

5.  Bake in preheated oven for 18 to 20 minutes (I set the timer for 15, then check them to gauge how much longer) or until the muffins are golden brown. Cool in muffin pan for five minutes then transfer to wire rack to cool completely--cause no one wants a soggy bottom!

Ok, now this is IMPORTANT!  In a large ziplock bag, put some of the cooled muffins in the freezer.  They will be better in a few days after you've eaten the others.  When you want a freezer one, stick it on a plate and microwave for about 30 seconds.  They'll taste fresher than if you were to leave them for a few days out.

Also, it's a good idea to put some on a little paper plate, cover with saran and put a note that says, "With Love, the ____________" put your last name and leave them on a neighbor's doorstep.  We always try to give some away from each batch.

Ok!  Now go make these!  They are quick and easy--and HEAVENLY!

Lovely weekend

My goodness we had a lovely weekend filled with joy and friends.  On Saturday we went to a wedding at the Presidio in Old Town San Diego, and it was so old fashioned romantic. This couple is truly amazing, and the ceremony was so touching--they even washed each other's feet as a symbol of service and humility towards each other. We got a sitter for the Tiny and went down with some besties.

(Yes, Andrew is eating a PB banana, or pbanana for short)

Such a beautiful wedding couple, inside and out.  The food was AMAZAING (Thai and Mexican, um YES!)  Loved the view, and the old world feel.  The couple and us guests were blessed with one of the most beautiful days we've seen this year, as of yet. (Pass the sunscreen.  And we did)

I love weddings, I love marriage, I love that The Tiny had a blast with the sweetest babysitter we know!  (Natalie, you are AMAZING!)

Then Sunday, oh lovely Sunday.  My favorite holiday.  Keep your Santa, your fireworks, your smiling pumpkins and give me a day full of sunshine with easter baskets and kids wearing spring colors.  Easter is and always has been my FAVORITE holiday.

(Andrew, my brother and I may or may not have been involved with an adult easter egg hunt.  And I may or may not have LOST!  What they hay.)

One little bumpkin got his very first Eater Basket full of sweet suprises from Grandma and Grandpa Stubstad.  He didn't even have to hunt for it!  No fair.

(His favorite items were his new pacifiers, his wiggly chick and his teething ring!  Wow, the Easter Bunny sure has his number!)

My goodness, I am just going to have to say it....I love my son.  Such a little sweety.  And I love seeing experiences through his eye, even though his eyes are so Tiny.  (And I know you aren't supposed to start a sentence with and, but it feels so right, and so rebellious to what I used to teach ;)

Easter Sleepies

So needless to say, a beautiful wedding with great friends, and my favorite holiday with our Tiny and we had a truly lovely weekend.  Even though I didn't win the egg hunt.

**(Check back tomorrow, I am going to give you a recipe that will make you feel like you are the most loved person on this whole earth.  Even I can't wait for you to taste it)

Fires and Baths

It has been slowly warming up here where we live.  We have been venturing out into the sunshine more and more.  We've even done a few beach walks, but wouldn't step toe in the water (unless you were my family visiting from Minnesota a few weeks ago--they dove in that water like it was a wading pool.  Much to our jacketed shock.  "Do you know those people?"  "Oh no, what people?  Crazy tourists, most likely...")

I have been refalling in love with our Moby Wrap .

I loved it when The Tiny was fresh and I could just tuck him away and he felt like he was back in the womb.  Now, I have  a couple different carriers, but we keep going back to the Moby.  I love how he can face out, if he's feelin' giggly and social, or face in if he's ready for sleeping.

The other night we had a beach BBQ/Bon Fire with our small group (of friends) and The Tiny loved snoozing soundly while the rest of us roasted marshmallows and ate kabobs.

Look how long he is.

"Whoa, you got a kindergardener in there."

"Yeah, I'm enrolling him in the fall."

"I dare you to."

"Dare not needed, his name's on the list."

We came home that night with campfire smells in our hair, and on sleeping pajama boy, happy and cozy.

Maybe some of you parents out there know what it's like when your baby started needing more baths, like our Tiny does.  We used to bath him once or twice a week, but now The Tiny hides lint in his neck rolls, and dirt under his fingernails (What were you doing baby? Planting a garden?)

Did you start bathing your baby more often once they started to have a few more rolls with critters living in between?

Our Birth Story

Well, don't say I didn't warn you.  It's called a birth story, and you know what they say about child birth.

Finley's Birth

It was the morning after we had gone to the Thanksgiving Eve service, and had a bunch of crazy things to eat…kambucha, taco bell, chocolate covered honeycombs, etc., all after a full meal.  That morning I woke up at 3am with my usual Braxton hicks contractions I had been having for a week, but this time I had pain as well, which I thought was an upset stomach from my nice selection of food the night before.  I tossed and turned for 2 hours, at which point I considered whether or not these were actual labor contractions.  I woke Andrew up around 5am and told him that I still wanted him to run in the Thanksgiving morning Turkey Trot.  He immediately became more alert and said, “Are we going to meet our little boy today?”  “No, no,” I assured him, but really I just didn’t know and didn’t want to sound a false alarm or needlessly get our hopes up.  The alarm went off at 7, and we pulled ourselves out of bed.  I was so tired from not sleeping and I wished I would have slept in, knowing what the day would hold, but at the same time, the Turkey Trot is now a special memory for us. Our friend, Joe, and Andrew started running the trot, and once I was alone, I was pretty sure I was in labor.  I felt a little bad knowing it was Thanksgiving Day and that I would be calling my doula Jenna and doctor in on this holiday.

When we got home, we started timing the contractions with bated breath.  Could this really be it?  Is this the day we had been waiting for?  My contractions began at 5 minutes apart for about an hour and then became more sporadic.  While in the bathtub around 11am, I was still timing my contractions on my iPhone reading from a Google search that “false labor” was contractions at random intervals.  BUMMER!  I thought.  Here I was thinking I was getting through the first hours of contractions and it could just be false labor!  Around 1pm with the contractions still coming, we called our doula, Jenna, and Andrew explained to her what I was experiencing.  “Are her contractions getting more intense?”  she asked.  “Um, actually, yes they are,” he responded as I nodded to him.  “Congratulations!  You guys are in labor!”  Wow!  Such a joyful and crazy adrenaline surge came over us as we looked at each other with huge smiles!  We flew into action!  Andrew began cleaning the whole house with the biggest smile on his face, I put on my birthing outfit I had picked out, started making coconut muffins, and zipped up my overnight bag that I had been adding to for a month and a half.  At that moment we noticed what a beautiful and sunny day it was and we felt so blessed and happy.  We went about our day, and when I would have a contraction, I would sit on my birthing ball and breathe slowly like I learned in my class, it was a breeze.  We told Jenna to spend as much time with her family as she could since it was Thanksgiving, but after a few hours we called her and told her we needed her, as my contractions kept getting stronger. 

Around 4pm Jenna came over with two big bags and started setting up all sorts of things after excited hugs.  I was feeling excited and social for the first hour she was there.  She talked with us, encouraged me to keep changing positions, heated up a hot water bottle for my back, and kept Andrew and I relaxed.  It came to the point where I couldn’t talk through my contractions and I would sit on my ball, and Andrew would stand in front of me for me to lean on as he rubbed my back.  What a great team!

Soon, my body began to shake and my teeth began to chatter, even though I wasn’t feeling cold.  Andrew was instantly worried, but Jenna reassured us that it was perfectly normal, that it was just the hormones.  I also told her that I felt that I needed to go to the bathroom, to which she said, “Great!  That means it is time to go to the hospital.  I’ll call the doctor right now and tell him we’ll be on the way.”  Andrew and I were both excited at the prospect of going to the hospital, because that’s where we’d meet our baby!  Andrew began getting our stuff together, while Jenna made three of the quickest trips to our car as humanly possible with all of our bags, birthing ball, blankets and pillows to make me a nest in the front seat for me to sit in.  Andrew and I were slowly walking to the car.  “How do people do this without a doula!?” I asked her as we were walking out. 

While at home, I was on a roll with my contractions, but on the ride to the hospital, sitting for that long, I started to lose my roll.  Sitting in a seated position for that long made the contractions seem more intense and I was eager to get to the hospital where I could get my birthing ball out.  I started to be in so much pain, Andrew sped up 90mph to quickly get us to the hospital.  Luckily it was Thanksgiving night so there was no traffic at all.

When we pulled up, I quickly got on my ball on the sidewalk and Jenna went to go park our car.  When we got in, we had some difficultly checking in.  Once we were finally in triage, I was hooked up to monitors, which I made clear I did not want.  My OB was not able to be there and I had a doctor who was on call.  I met this doctor, who quickly had me in tears.  When he left the room, the poor nurse looked at my tear streaked face and told me in a hushed voice, “Don’t worry, it will be ok, that’s just how he is” while watching the sheet of a door nervously.   Andrew tried to comfort me but I loudly exclaimed, “Your breath stinks!  Get some gum, now! I am going to be sick!” (Just know, I would never say such rude things while not in labor.)  “Um…Ok, do you want me to go right now and get gum?” he asked.  “NO!  You have to stay here with me, my contractions are getting very hard and I need you here!”  I grabbed his cell phone and clumsily typed in, “Get gum. Minty,” and sent it to Jenna.  Jenna was on her way up to join us and somehow tracked down gum.  Andrew went to go meet her and she had been given a whole pack from somebody much to my and Andrew’s relief!

I was then taken upstairs to the labor and delivery room where my labor became extremely more intense and I started to feel more out of body while Andrew and Jenna flew into action.  I fought with the nurses to not get an IV put in, but they persisted.  The first nurse blew my vein, which made me fight harder with the next nurse not to get one, but alas, it was a losing battle.  As they put an IV in my arm, Andrew and Jenna were putting on music, getting ice and water ready, setting up my flameless candles, a million other things, while I complained like a teenager to the nurses about my IV. 

Well, this is about the time I decided that I wasn’t 100% certain that I wanted a natural childbirth and maybe not even a baby at this point.  This is also the time that my mind decided to go elsewhere leaving my mouth to say all sorts of off the wall, crazy types of things, while going through these majorly strong contractions.

Each time I saw my nurse, I would say, “Ok!  Great, can you go get me the epidural now?  Or what about a C-section?”  Then, when a contraction would come on, I would yell, “Oh NO! No No No No!”  But then I remembered that my birthing coach said to yell, “YES!”  So I tried it and I think that it helped.  While I can’t remember each and every off the wall thing I said, I do remember saying when I got a big time contraction, “I want my MOM!  But— you had better not bring her in here, got it?  I just want to say it!”  Andrew and Jenna said they got a laugh out of these crazy things.

 “Oh man, I seriously can’t do it, I really don’t think I can!  I am so sorry!” I said. “But you ARE doing it, and you’re doing great!  You’re doing amazing!” Jenna would say. Then my contraction would be over and I felt like I could do it. That is, until I felt the next one coming on.  In between contractions, worship music that we had picked out would come on and Andrew remembers he and I singing praise to God together, especially to the song, Hosanna.

During transition, I shot up from my birthing ball and announced that I was going to be sick!  I went to the bathroom and threw up in the sink with Jenna holding my hair and Andrew supporting me from behind.  I didn’t even say thank you, but instead saw a shower out of the corner of my eye and walked right in while pawing the water handle to turn it on.  “Amy’s in the shower,” Andrew said, a little anxious seeing as I was fully clothed in a lovely hospital gown.  “That’s fine, she can be in it, I’ll get her birthing ball and you can hold the shower head on her back or wherever she needs,” responded Jenna calmly.  When she got back, they helped me get out of my soaking wet gown and helped me get on the birthing ball, while I loudly demanded the water be positioned “On my back!  No on my stomach, no my BACK!”

I was entering the lovely transition stage and with each contraction, I felt panicked by the onset of pain.  At this point Jenna was stern with me and told me, “Breathe—You need to breathe,” which was exactly what I needed to do.  I just needed someone to tell me, otherwise I could feel myself getting whiney and hopeless. Andrew and Jenna were amazing— they were rocks who took all of my outbursts and crazy demands in stride.  The shower was a great distraction for a while, until I suddenly felt huge pressure and squatted down, pushing.  “I’m pushing!” I yelled.  “No, don’t start pushing!  You’re body’s not ready yet!” said my nurse.  “WHAT!?” I said back, feeling almost annoyed.  “I’m not trying to push, this is just what my body is doing!” I sassed back.  I pushed my way out of the shower and up on the bed, asking to be checked, knowing my body was ready to push out this baby.  The nurses started moving about more quickly and when I was checked, I was indeed at 10 centimeters!  So people started hopping into action while they paged the doctor.  I was laying on my back, for the first time all during my labor, and my sweet husband leaned over me to encourage me, but I clumsily grabbed his visitors tag.  “What’s THIS!?” I asked as I ripped it off.  I crumpled it up and threw it with all my might at the ceiling.  I liked it.  “PAPER!!  I need more paper!”  I yelled and a nurse quickly brought more paper.  I crumpled up one piece and tossed it, but it wasn’t to my liking, so I stopped. (What?  Who am I?  Paper snob?)

My doctor came in and I was in full swing of pushing.  Pushing was hard but I also kind of enjoyed it, especially compared to the transition contractions. There was more time in between contractions and since I was pushing during my contractions, it kind of kept my mind from the pain.  I also felt like I was actually accomplishing something by being able to push, plus the added benefit that knowing that the end was in sight!  But it was also hard work, and I had some pain in my back, which I kept asking Andrew to push on.  Andrew and Jenna were awesome.  They kept a cold cloth on my forehead, water through a straw in my mouth, and chapstick on my lips before I even fully formed the sentence that I needed these things.  The whole time, Andrew was comforting and encouraging me while holding my hand.  “WHAT IS THIS HORRIBLE SONG!?”  I yelled out.  “I’m already changing it,” Jenna said, and in fact was already at our iHome, changing the song.  She read my mind!

While pushing, all the lights were dimmed, so it felt like we were in a dark room, with one spotlight on me.  Like I said, I preferred pushing to the contractions.  My doctor arrived, but his bedside manner was still lacking.  He was short and demanding and used to doing things his own way, which sometimes frustrated me, but mostly I didn’t even care.  While pushing, I suddenly heard a cacophony of voices from many different nurses asking me to do many different things at the same time.  I could barely focus on a darn thing, until I heard Jenna’s voice say, “Ok guys, Amy is just going to be taking directions from her own nurse, Erin, so we are just going to let Erin direct her from now.”  Just hearing those words was a huge relief because it showed me that it was ok to be feeling overwhelmed at that point.

With every push my body exerted, it was met by a “Wow!  Amy!  Great job!  You’re really doing it, you’re son is almost here!  You’re doing great!” which is music to your ears while pushing since you don’t really know what the heck is happening while you do.  In between contractions, I did a “breathing the baby down” technique that I learned from my Hypnobirthing book and I think it helped.  “Amy, we can see your baby’s head!  There it is!” said some nurses.  I instantly became more alert, opened my eyes and said, “GOOD!  Grab him, get him out!”  “Um, no, you need to keep pushing him out,” they said.  “Here is a mirror, look at your baby’s head!”  I craned my neck up expecting to see this miraculous appearance of a head, only to see a tiny speck of matted, curly hair, or so it seemed, which was nowhere NEAR coming out.  “What?” I said, “That’s freaky.”  So, they took the mirror away. 

In between contractions, I would go into a deep rest, almost like a coma.  I heard someone say, “Amy, Jessica is here.” Jessica is my best friend and during transition, I asked for her to be there.  But when she came in, I was in my “in between contraction deep coma state,” where I could barely open my eyes, let alone greet my friend.  “Amy, Jessica is here,” someone said.  One more time, “Amy, Jessica is here.”  So, at this point, the only reason, that I yelled out, “I DON’T CARE!” while throwing my forehead washcloth at Jessica was because in my mind, I had heard them the first time but couldn’t respond.  Oh yeah, and I was in labor, so I wasn’t my most friendliest.  Sorry Jessica.

Fast forward to the moment when the baby’s head was crowning.  Just when the little head was about to come out, my current contraction ended—meaning I couldn’t push any more. The doctor said I needed to push right away and get the baby out because the heart rate was dropping.  “I CAN’T!” I yelled.  “My contraction is over!”  The doctor who was amazing with his words, (not) said, “I am going to have to cut you.” “NO!  PLEASE DON’T CUT ME!” I yelled.  “Amy push, please, you have to push right now!” I heard Andrew’s anxious voice.  He heard the heart rate monitor and it was dropping. “It’s ok Amy, it’s going to be super quick, they just need to get the baby out,” I heard Jenna encourage.  Jenna knew I didn’t want an episiotomy and I knew she would fight for me not to have one under any other circumstance, so when I heard her telling me it was ok, I relaxed and the cut felt like nothing.  Just then, Finely was born.  The doctor pulled him out half way and faced his crying little face to mine.  I couldn’t believe how big he was and that this squirmy, slippery baby was the lump I had felt in my stomach the whole time.  He was actually here.  My labor was actually over.  I was actually a mom and my little boy actually had a lot of hair! 

They placed his slippery little body into my arms and he immediately calmed down and began sucking on his long fingers while looking up at me, as I softly hummed a little tune.  At this point I could barely get my mind around what was happening.  The doctor asked for the baby to be taken so he could finish his work and Andrew held him.  He took off his shirt so that Finley could get the skin-to-skin warmth he needed.  He was born at 12:45am, weighing 7 pounds, 13 ounces and was 21 inches long. 

Afterwards, Jenna helped us take pictures with our nurses and with Joe and Jessica, and we tried to remember these first moments with our son.  We were taken up to our room and Finely was washed and wrapped up.  We fell asleep around 4am.  I guess we were pretty tired.  At 7am, Andrew’s built in phone alarm went off, which did not wake him in the least, but I woke up and thought, “Whoa!  Where am I?”  Then, I heard a faint little coo, looked down, and there was a baby on my chest!  I was shocked!  (I suppose those 3 hours of sleep were much deeper than I had ever gotten before.)  Then, I realized it was MY baby!  Whoa!  I took this time to really examine him.  He sure was cute, and peaceful, just laying on my stomach, looking at me while his papa snoozed next to us on his uncomfortable chair as the early morning light streamed into our high rise, 5^th story window, a glisten of the ocean far in the distance.

 

I took a few pictures and sent them to the Brockhaus family, who were in the car on their way over from Arizona.  My family came about an hour later, cramming into our tiny hospital room, ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over little Finn man.  He was perfectly sweet and peaceful the whole time, with his awesomely styled hair-do!  The next day and a half was a time of awesome friends coming to visit and share our joy of our sweet little treasure.  Thank you God for creating this little miracle and for entrusting him to us.  May we be parents who turn to God daily for our own guidance as we raise our little guy to know and love Jesus. 

5 months

I can't believe our little guy is 5 months old!

When he was first born, many people, I mean many, people told us, "Just enjoy it, it goes too fast," to the point where we'd know when people were about to say it. They'd get that far off look in their eyes, and a smile, remembering when their kids were just days old. "Good advice, thanks," We were a broken record.

By about month 1.5, I remember thinking to myself, "Why did people keep saying that!? This is not going fast at all!" To me, not much had changed after a month and a half, he still slept most of his life, but nursed every 3 hours meaning I was awake a lot during this time in my life. By the time the sun came peeking in our windows, I felt like 3 days had passed in one night.

But now, oh sweet Finley, you are 5 months old, and SO much has changed since we first brought you home from the hospital.

He's a big boy, long--in the 80 percentile, and just above average in weight. (I seriously started doing push ups again to keep up with how heavy this chunk-o is! Well, I needed to start anyways, no one needs to be knocked over when I wave hello...)

At 5 months old, he is
-Wearing 6 and 9 months clothes, and I can't believe he'll be starting solid foods in just one more month! (Bring on the smelly poops.  Good thing he's so cute...)
-He has a nice double chin, and loves to kick his feet high in the air.
-If something's in his hand, most likely it's also in his mouth--or about to be.
-He's mostly sleeping through the night, but sometimes wakes up between 3 and 4am for some food.
-He laughs and giggles, and talks A LOT! Sometimes he is almost yelling in his sweet, soft little voice  when he gets really excited.
-He's starting to try to be funny, and laughs when we laugh. Looks like we have a jokester on our hands...
-He can roll over, grab toys, and is starting to work on sitting up.
-He likes peek a boo (sometimes, sometimes it's just to much of a surprise) and bouncing on our knees.
-His favorite books are Each Peach Pear Plumb (Which I have now memorized, nbd) How do Dinosaurs Clean their Rooms, and Curios George Rides.
-He can't sleep without his comfort silkie blanket (we never leave the house without it, instant calm in the storm)

So, as it turns out, a lot has changed from the first few days home:

To five months later:

Now I can see that time does go fast when you have a tiny--but honestly, I love every new stage, and cherish the memories of stages past. We just feel lucky that God picked us to be the parents of this little guy, he is such a fun, sweet baby boy and we can't wait to see more of what life brings.

Happy 5 months to the coolest dude we know!

Make your own Cloth Wipes Solution

Hi there!  This is a post about using cloth wipes, and making your own wipes solution to go with them if you are cloth diapering.  To know and learn everything awesome there is know know about cloth diapering, go here.  You might become mildly obsessed and excited about it, just sayin'...

So there you are, you got a baby, you're cloth diapering, you're thinking, this is so fun and easy, how could diapering get any easier, right?

Then you decided to read this blog post, and your mind got blown!

Ok, so I love using cloth wipes, but I think my husband loves it even more.  My husband has a tender and gentle heart, much more than me, and when we first started using cloth wipes he was so happy that The Tiny's bum was getting such soft and gentle treatment.  Plus, at about week 2, Tiny got some nasty diaper rash that looked so sore, and the cloth wipes with the natural wipes solution was so comforting to him.

You know how I feel about my Bum Genius', love 'em.  So we also ordered their cloth wipes--but their wipes?  Mediocre at best.  When we decided we needed one more set of wipes, we shopped around on amazon, and found some that are beyond fantastic (BF for short.)  They are call Baby Kicks, and they're like a warm wooly lamb for your baby's bum.

We wipe, (usually just one soft wipe does the trick, even for a major blowout ;), roll it up with the diapers before putting it in the pail, then wash these guys with the diaper cycle.  When the washer is done, we don't dry them, we just fold them up and stick 'em back in our Tupperware (we used to use a wipes warmer, but got over it) before splashing some wipes solution on top of them.

Mmmmmmm, home made wipes solutions.  Such a little joy in our life. (Who would have thought, right?  "You guys need to get out more."  Hmm, maybe)  It goes along with our little plan of being frugal and natural, it is free of chemicals for teeny buns and smells great.  Plus, it's super simple and one batch lasts a couple weeks or more.  (Then, when you use regular wipes, you'll feel a lil' grossed out like poop is seeping through onto your fingers)...  anyway:

How to make your own wipes solution

(That feels, smells and works delicious)

1.  Start boiling some water in a kettle

2.  Collect your tools and ingredients.  (I'll explain how awesome each ingredient is after the how-to)

-1 cup measurer
-1 tbs measurer
-Mixing bowl
-Grapeseed Oil
-Baby Shampoo or Wash
-Grapefruit Seed Extract (optional)

3.  Measure your ingredients.  We do 1 tbs baby shampoo/wash and 1 tablespoon grapeseed oil for every two cups of boiling water into the mixing bowl.  We usually do a big batch, so 6 cups of water, and 3 tbs of each shampoo/wash and oil.  Lastly, we add about 5 or 6 drops of grapefruit seed extract (optional).

2 cups water + 1 tbs oil + 1 tbs baby wash

 

 Then stir it up:

 Mmm, smell that?  That's money in your pocket.  Oh, and nice warm clean smell.

What you got cookin'?

(Why we usin' what we're usin')

Grape Seed Oil:  It is actually an antioxidant and possesses anti bacterial, anti viral, and anti-inflammatory properties (what what!).  Grape Seed Extract is a super potent antioxidant and helps with circulations, softens skin and helps the wipes glide on your baby's skin.

Baby Shampoo/Wash:  Use any kind, even super cheap.  Helps keep a bum fresh and kills bacteria.

Grapefruit Seed Extract:  This is a new addition to our wipes solution, and totally optional for your own.  We decided to use it because our Tiny had a problem with candida diaper rash, and this helped because it is anti-fungal, a natural antiseptic, and helps to heal wounds and scars.

Once the mixture is cooled, I pour it into a plastic, washed, empty oj bottle (any bottle will do, bonus for recycling), and we keep it up on a shelf in the Tiny's closet and splash a little on when I put clean wipes in the warmer. 

If you don't use a wipes warmer, you can use a small tupperware with a lid to keep them saturated.  Or, put the solution in a spray bottle and spray dry wipes before wiping a lil' tushy.

You can use other kinds of oils to fit your preferences or baby's needs as well!  Try teatree oil, apricot oil or mineral oil.  There's all sorts of oils with different properties and uses.

Total time?  Less than 5 minutes.  Lasts for weeks! 

Here real user feed back

"Oh my gosh mama and papa!  My bum feels so fresh and clean!  Thanks for using those super soft cloths on my chubby little bum rolls!  Love ya, mean it!"

If you like it then...

you shoulda put a ring on it.



"It goes right here," -The Tiny. You can even see the sass expression on his face, meaning--he means business!

I love that the weather is warming up enough for shorts.  Today we went in the pool for the first time, I'll show you pictures soon!

Have a cool weekend

Have a cool weekend doing at least 5 things that are fun.

xoxo,

The Tiny Team

The day we switched Pediatricians

I had a to do list.

I was checking it off.

I was pregnant, and nothing was stopping me from having every nook and cranny cleaned, prepped, and ready for The Tiny.  (Can you say, nesting?)

"Honey, it's 2am, you should come to bed." -the hubby.

"I know, I know, just let me finish sewing these curtains for the nursery, I have to get them up before it's too late!"  -I responded, while pushing that fabric through even faster, because heaven forbid our nursery not have a 1 foot valence before we brought our bundle home, who wouldn't actually sleep in his nursery for the first 1.5 months.

One of the items on my list was to interview pediatricians.  Because that's what my friend mentioned doing.  THAT one sounded kinda complicated, and like I was already over it.

I asked around, and settled on one a couple of my friends liked that is close to our home. (Bonus)  Five days after The Tiny was born, we went in for our first big check up.

They had us strip him down, his teeny newborn body still a dark red hue, as he cried from being awoken, and the sudden coldness on his body.  I tried holding him close, his naked boney butt on my lap, the dark circles under my eyes a clear sign that I had given birth 5 days prior and hadn't quite slept since.

In walked our stout doctor.  I was excited, here was someone who would care for my Tiny, to assure me that in the past 5 days we hadn't done something detrimental, or if we had, he would quickly catch it and tell us what we could do to make up for lost time.

We exchanged niceties, and he took The Tiny and looked him over, much to his protests and wails.

"You'll have to bring him back in a few days to weigh him since you're breastfeeding.  That's the great thing about formula feeding, you know exactly how much the baby is getting each day."

"Oh really..."  I said slowly.  I was surprised he said that, and was almost expecting a, "Wow, good job sticking to it even though you feel like your nipples will fall off," from someone like a pediatrician.

"He could be losing weight each day and you wouldn't even know it until it's too late.  Also, be sure you don't take him out too much, or he could catch a cold and die." -Dr. 

"Oh my gosh!  Oh, ok, yes!" -Us, wide eyed.

"You BOTH need to get the flu shot, and the whooping cough shots, because if he catches either of these, he will die.  There are 5 reported deaths of children under 5 from Whooping Cough in this area."

It was at this point, just five days after giving birth, where you're not quite sleeping and you're suddenly responsible for this teeny, fragile life that you love and your hormones aren't quite done riding their roller coaster since your baby vacated your womb's premise, and you're almost convinced that your baby might just die under your care so hearing a doctor say repeatedly that under many circumstance it is more than likely your baby "will die," that despite the fact that you are trying to look and act professional, and you want "just the facts" for your baby's health, you just can't quite fight the itching feeling in your cheeks, the the sticky sensation in your throat, as your eyes begin to prick with tears, even though you try not to break eye contact and are nodding solemnly.  "Holding it together," means not totally crying, but just letting some renegade tears jet down your face, as you whisk them away, and continue saying, "uh-huh," to this guy with the stethoscope around his neck, clutching your Tiny close with your spread hands making up for his lack of clothes.

"Did you get your Hepatitis B shot in the hospital? -Dr.

"No.  We are going to immunize, but the more we researched this shot, we just decided that we don't want to get it for him."

Insert unsupportive doctor. "I have been giving the Hep B shot for 18 years, and have never had a bad outcome.  I even know some of those 18 year olds--healthy and thriving.  I strongly recommend getting it, there are no downsides.  I'll have the nurse bring it in.  It was nice to meet you both, I'll see you for his follow up when we can weigh him," And he left.

Then we were alone, and waiting for a Hep B shot?  How did this happen all of a sudden?  We felt in a panic.  Our thumbs wildly scrolled through random medical sites on our iPhones, looking up what we had felt so comfortable with before.  Searching Hep B, Hep B, trying to begin the lengthy dissertations written about it that we had, wait--already read.

"Why are we stressing out right now?"  -Hubby

"I don't know, and don't want to talk about it.  I am seriously about to cry right now."  -Me

"Why am I researching this again, when we already did and we told him we didn't want it.  Let's just refuse it again and leave.  I don't want to be bullied into this."

I felt instant hope.  Instant relief from the fear of maybe acting like a crying crazy mom who would have to be escorted out on a dolly.

"Ok," I whispered loudly as I perked up, the deluge temporarily at bay, "Should we tell him, or should we just leave?  Let's just go quick.  Wait, you tell him, I'll start walking out." (Such a wimp, I know.  Not usually, but that day, yes ;)

In walks the nurse with a small metal tray with a not so small orange needle.

"Actually, we aren't going to be getting the Hep B shot today," said hubby as he hoisted the diaper bag strap over his shoulder, and I finished buttoning the Tiny's outfit.  I then wrapped a blanket around him, and started down the long hall, out towards the waiting room, which I knew wasn't too far from the door.

"Thank you Dr._________,"  I heard my hubby say from further behind me into his office. 

We got out into the fresh air and it felt like freedom.  We hadn't realized how much stress and pressure we were feeling until we were outside, and got into the car. 

"Let's get out of here!  That guy was intense!"  We were smiling as we snapped our now drowsy and sweet Tiny into his car seat.

We drove away, sharing all the things we had been feeling, but couldn't share at the time.  At the top of that list was the fact that we both knew we wouldn't be bringing The Tiny back anytime soon.  "Seriously, how many times can one person say, 'will die' in a 15 minute interval?"  "Or how he apparently wished I was formula feeding," I grumbled.

And although we were happy that we escaped, never to see him again, we realized we were again pediatrician-less.  And he was already 5 days old, and things needed to be lined up.

That's when I started kicking myself for not doing those stupid interviews.  I kinda thought pediatricians were all the same, all good--I mean they are doctors who work with kids, you gotta be great, right?  

Now it was too late to interview, and what if we find another dud and we're back at square one.....uuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhh....   Mommy fail.

That night we met our friends for burgers at Ruby's on the pier, The Tiny tucked away in the Moby wrap. They had retro pricing that night, so we dined on $1.50 burger and fries.  We shared with our friends our story about the pediatrician and our current predicament, now laughing at all of his pushiness and oddities. 

"Why don't you see mine, he's still practicing, and he's amazing." Said our 29 year old friend.

"Oh yeah, he's the best!  My brothers and I all went to him.  He comes in singing, and is so kind and gentle," said our other friend.

"How old is he?  He must be pretty old..."  -Hubby

"Yeah, he's not going to recommend Cod Liver oil or something, is he?" -Me

"No he's great, he is so kind and gentle."

Well, there you have it.  Those are some of words I would have written down as important to look for in a pediatrician if I had taken the time to interview.  Kind and gentle, and obviously very experienced and I looked at my two healthy friends sitting across from me, both entered adulthood without dying.

A couple days later we were in the office.  He did in deed come in singing.  He sang to The Tiny as he gently looked him over, The Tiny staring, no screaming, at him in wonder.

"This baby is healthy and thriving, and he's going to live to be 100," he said.  I don't think you could have gotten the smiles off our face with a crowbar, my heart actually felt like it was soaring (What?  Seriously)

He supported our decision to refuse Hep B, and suggested others that weren't necessary in the line-up.  He sat and listened to all the questions, and even about why we switched pediatricians.

"Hmm, no this baby will not be dying any time soon, like I said, he will live to be 100."

"Let's see how much this baby is getting in each feeding, " he said.  He weighed him, I fed him, and then he reweighed him.  "Wow!  This is excellent!  He is getting just enough milk.  Great job mom!"  A new kind of tears loomed, happiness on my face. 

Each time we've seen him since, we have loved him.  In the office, our Tiny is famous for his hair, and the nurses come out from behind the counter to come stroke his cheek and fluff his hair as he coos back at them.

If any of you mommies are worried about your pediatrician, don't be afraid to make a switch.  Andrew and I are so at ease and happy each time we bring him in.  Our doctor supports our decisions, but we trust his opinions as an experienced professional.  He has time for our questions, and encourages us as parents.

If you are pregnant, make a list, it can even be as short as 5 things you would like to have in the doctor you entrust with your baby's health.  Even personality wise.  You will be seeing this person frequently in the next year and for some of the most important situations of your baby's life.  Ask around, make a list, call them up and go in and meet these people.  Ask them some questions.  You will be so glad you did.

 (Our Tiny, 3 days old)

 

 

(If you have any questions, email me or post it in the comments and I would be happy yo help you with anything)

For that special someone...

This is for that special someone in your life.

Scenes from the weekend

One of those rare weekends without a millions places to be all at the same time.

Where we could just spend time and focus

On some of the things that matter to us