Thursday, February 14, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Gerry: 6 Weeks
Holy cow, that was a fast 6 weeks!
Nothing new to report on the Gerry front these days. He's eating like it's his job (growth spurt, maybe?) and is generally a very happy little guy. He's got his fussy moments, but they're few and far between. Sleep-wise, it's kind of hit or miss these days. Last night we got a solid 8 hours out of him, but the night before he was up two or three times. At this point, we don't know what to expect but he's still super easy if and when he does wake up. Just wants a quick bottle and then he's passed out again as soon as his belly is full.
He's been "talking" a lot more lately, too. This afternoon I found him gazing adoringly at our floor lamp and chatting it up. It's funny to watch, because he tries so hard to make noise when someone talks to him. And then when he does he gets all excited and just keeps on pushing sounds out. And, oh my, his smile! I could be having the worst day but one quick smile from him and I can't help but feel instantly happier.
Bath time is still a pleasure. As soon as he hits the water he calms down and just stares at whoever is giving him his bath. Sometimes he smiles but more often than not he's pretty serious. Almost like he's focusing on how calming a warm bath can be. He still doesn't like being taken out of the water, but the last two times he hasn't cried. Just tensed up until we had him snuggled up in a towel. His baptism is next week and I'm interested to see how he does with that.hat
That's all for now!
Nothing new to report on the Gerry front these days. He's eating like it's his job (growth spurt, maybe?) and is generally a very happy little guy. He's got his fussy moments, but they're few and far between. Sleep-wise, it's kind of hit or miss these days. Last night we got a solid 8 hours out of him, but the night before he was up two or three times. At this point, we don't know what to expect but he's still super easy if and when he does wake up. Just wants a quick bottle and then he's passed out again as soon as his belly is full.He's been "talking" a lot more lately, too. This afternoon I found him gazing adoringly at our floor lamp and chatting it up. It's funny to watch, because he tries so hard to make noise when someone talks to him. And then when he does he gets all excited and just keeps on pushing sounds out. And, oh my, his smile! I could be having the worst day but one quick smile from him and I can't help but feel instantly happier.
Bath time is still a pleasure. As soon as he hits the water he calms down and just stares at whoever is giving him his bath. Sometimes he smiles but more often than not he's pretty serious. Almost like he's focusing on how calming a warm bath can be. He still doesn't like being taken out of the water, but the last two times he hasn't cried. Just tensed up until we had him snuggled up in a towel. His baptism is next week and I'm interested to see how he does with that.hat
That's all for now!
Our "Top" 4
Just need to jot this down for future reference...
Scott and I have been texting back and forth this week our "Top 4 Moments" together as a countdown to Valentine's day. Corny, I know, but we don't normally do things like that very often (side note: I've been trying to make more of an effort since Gerry was born to focus on Scott and our marriage and not to be sucked into the "new mom" baby vortex and forget all about him and our relationship like I kind of did for awhile after Bailey was born), and I've genuinely enjoyed reading about what Scott's top moments have been so far.
I'm not a traditionally romantic or "mushy" person and would normally never post this here, but I'm hoping that this blog will still be around years from now and I want my kids to read this. I want to read it and look back on this time in our lives and remember that, in between the sleepless nights and diaper changes and the overwhelming responsibilities that come with being a parent, there was the two of us. That we love each other, and that we created these kids and this life together and that it is pretty darn amazing. It's easy to forget the moments of sweetness when you're covered in spit up and trying talk your toddler down from the ledge of what is sure to be an epic tantrum. It's easy to forget the love and the bond that brought us together in the first place when we're running on 3 hours of broken sleep and stressing about next month's mortgage payment. It's easy to forget. And I don't want to do that.
The rest of our "top moments" are personal and I don't want to share them all here, but I want to share this one because it made me tear up, and anyone who knows me knows that that's a damn hard thing to do. Scott's #2 top moment:
So, yeah...a teeny bit TMI. But telling me that I'm a good mother is pretty much the highest compliment in my book. Not only did I need the reassurance today, but it made me feel good to realize that he notices the good parts of me even when I don't notice them myself.. I'm interested to see what his #1 is...it's going to take a lot to top this one!
Scott and I have been texting back and forth this week our "Top 4 Moments" together as a countdown to Valentine's day. Corny, I know, but we don't normally do things like that very often (side note: I've been trying to make more of an effort since Gerry was born to focus on Scott and our marriage and not to be sucked into the "new mom" baby vortex and forget all about him and our relationship like I kind of did for awhile after Bailey was born), and I've genuinely enjoyed reading about what Scott's top moments have been so far.
I'm not a traditionally romantic or "mushy" person and would normally never post this here, but I'm hoping that this blog will still be around years from now and I want my kids to read this. I want to read it and look back on this time in our lives and remember that, in between the sleepless nights and diaper changes and the overwhelming responsibilities that come with being a parent, there was the two of us. That we love each other, and that we created these kids and this life together and that it is pretty darn amazing. It's easy to forget the moments of sweetness when you're covered in spit up and trying talk your toddler down from the ledge of what is sure to be an epic tantrum. It's easy to forget the love and the bond that brought us together in the first place when we're running on 3 hours of broken sleep and stressing about next month's mortgage payment. It's easy to forget. And I don't want to do that.
The rest of our "top moments" are personal and I don't want to share them all here, but I want to share this one because it made me tear up, and anyone who knows me knows that that's a damn hard thing to do. Scott's #2 top moment:
"#2 - Seeing you grow into the mother that you are. Great challenges came with both kids and you handled it like a champ. You are the most caring and balanced mother I have ever known. You are the only person I know who puts everyone else in front of themselves. I have never seen you put yourself and your needs in front of mine. You are truly a gem and knowing how protective you are of our family is a complete turn-on. Love you, more than words, for our family."
So, yeah...a teeny bit TMI. But telling me that I'm a good mother is pretty much the highest compliment in my book. Not only did I need the reassurance today, but it made me feel good to realize that he notices the good parts of me even when I don't notice them myself.. I'm interested to see what his #1 is...it's going to take a lot to top this one!
Friday, February 8, 2013
The Great Debate
Yesterday I was trolling browsing my birth board on BabyCenter out of sheer boredom. After reading the millionth post bemoaning our postpartum bellies (come on, ladies, did you really expect your stomach to stretch to epic proportions and then bounce right back as soon as the baby crowned?), I stumbled upon the thread that led me to this blog post. Anyone who has spent more than 7 seconds on a baby/birth website or who has "mom friends" will have seen and/or heard the major debates: cloth diapering versus disposables, breastfeeding versus formula feeding, letting your baby cry it out versus tending to their every need, co-sleeping versus crib sleeping. The list goes on and on, and a lot of women feel very strongly about their particular stance. I personally think "to each his own". I definitely have a "stance" as far as these debates go, but I won't judge another mother based on how she chooses to raise her kids...unless, of course, she beats or regularly abandons them or something equally as horrific.
I've been visiting parenting websites since my first pregnancy back in 2009. I've seen and taken part in quite a few debates regarding child rearing, but there's one debate that seems to get women angrier, more defensive, and infinitely more pissed off than all the rest...Being a working mom versus being a stay at home mom.
If ever you want to be attacked by a pack of angry women out for blood, just mention this debate. You don't even need to say which side you advocate for...they will all come after you if they think you lean "the other way". I might not have much to say about the downfalls and merits of a lot of debates because I simply don't have much experience with both sides on many of them. I use only disposable diapers and have my own opinion on cloth diapers, but I can't say that cloth diapering is bad or weird, because I don't cloth diaper. I can't argue the good points of crying it out because I don't let my babies cry it out before a certain age. I can, however, argue both sides of the working mom vs. stay at home mom debate.
Those of you who know me or who've been following this blog from the beginning know that I'm a home daycare provider. Because I run a business out of my home, I get the best of both worlds, right? I'm a working mom, but I'm also at home during the day. I get to spend the early and most important years of their lives with my kids, but I also get to do something and to make an income, however small it may be. I can totally identify with both working mothers and mothers who stay at home. And, you know what? Neither way is better or worse than the other. Both ways of life are just as hard, just as rewarding, and can be just as nerve-wracking when it comes to deciding which is best for your family.
A lot of people who work outside the home have kind of a skewed image of what a stay at home mom does. Most of them think moms who stay at home just hang out and play all day and that, since they don't go to an office (or factory or school or whatever building other people work in), their "job" is much easier. My own husband has used the phrase "Well, you're home all day..." when discussing why we don't eat dinner before 6pm most nights or why I'm sometimes a frazzled mess when he gets home from work. 
Yes, yes I am home all day. But, daycare aside, I spend my day making meals and snacks for my kids, washing dishes (about 4 times before dinner), washing and prepping bottles, changing diapers, straightening up what I can around the house while the kids are napping, planning and executing fun activities for the kids to do, cleaning up any accidents that may occur around the house, getting the mail, taking out the trash, setting up doctor's appointments, sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor (after removing whatever mystery stains and goo I find after the kids have come through), etc., etc., etc. This doesn't even include the time spent getting my kids dressed, brushing Bailey's teeth and combing her hair, disciplining and then calming her down after the 48 tantrums she throws before lunch, or cleaning up the 84,392 toys she leaves lying all over the place...or fighting with her to help me clean those damn toys, calming and soothing a cranky baby, or taking care of them when they're sick. It also doesn't include the 14 outfit changes for Gerry every time he spits up or poops clear out the top or sides (or sometimes both) of his diaper. I'm at home raising my children, not sitting on my ass. I'm there to witness all their "firsts" and I'm there making sure that they're being raised with the values and behaviors that Scott and I want for them to have. I get kisses and hugs and attitude on an hourly basis. I'm kissing boo boos and chasing away monsters and calming fears, and that takes precedence over everything else I do most days. Being at home with my kids is a 24/7 job. It's hard and it's often thankless. A lot of people who aren't home all day think being a stay at home mom is the easiest thing in the world...it's not. But neither is being a working mom.
I can't speak specifically for other working moms because, plain and simple,
we all work very different jobs with very different hours, and are expected to
perform different duties pertaining to our jobs. This is my own
personal experience as a working mom.
My "work day" starts at around 6:15am, when the first daycare kids
arrive. And then it is, literally go-go-go until 5:30pm when the last kid
leaves. You read that right. I work 11 hour days, 5 days a
week. My work day consists of making breakfast, lunch and snacks for all
of the kids; giving bottles to the babies and spoon feeding the toddlers who
aren't old enough yet to feed themselves; changing diapers; running kids to and
from the bathroom; working on potty training with the kids who aren't trained
yet; teaching preschool; planning and executing all of our preschool
activities; setting up lesson plans and materials for the next day; washing
dishes from whatever meal or snack the kids have eaten (we really need a
dish washer); sweeping and mopping the floor after meals; working on fine and
gross motor skills with ALL of the kids; tummy time for the infants; helping
the older babies with their rolling/crawling/walking skills; getting all of the
kids down for a nap; answering emails/texts/phone calls from parents who want
to check in on their kids or confirm some daycare-related detail or share a
cute anecdote about what their kid did over the weekend or the night
before. This doesn't include the parental things I do for my own kids
like the teeth brushing and getting dressed that I mentioned before, and it
also doesn't include the hours I spend every day consoling sick, sad or grumpy
kids, fixing boo boos, teaching them how to get along and play well together
and then stepping in when they're having a hard time being kind to each
other. It doesn't include the time I spend after my work day is finished
or on the weekends thinking up cool projects to do or games to play, or running
to the store for art supplies or wipes or whatever other daycare-related items
I need to keep the business running. It also doesn't include the time I
spend dusting and vacuuming and sanitizing the house to reduce the spread of
germs and illness. And then when the last kid goes home, I'm in Mommy Mode: cooking dinner (or, more likely these days, ordering dinner) and then cleaning up after. Then it's bath time for both kids, jammies and stories before bed, and then actually putting them to bed. Then there's another hour or so putting Bailey back to bed after she's attempted every one of the stall tactics in her repertoire. And this is all assuming they're both having a good day and being really agreeable. Factor in the middle of the night diaper changes and feedings and putting Bailey back to bed yet again and it's no wonder this mom is exhausted.
Being a working mom is hard. Just as hard as being a stay at home mom. When all is said and done, though, aren't we all just trying to be the best moms we can be? Aren't we just trying to do what's best for our families? All debating aside, whether you're a stay at home mom or a working mom, you're working your ass off every single day to do right by your family, and for that we should all be commended.
My "work day" starts at around 6:15am, when the first daycare kids
arrive. And then it is, literally go-go-go until 5:30pm when the last kid
leaves. You read that right. I work 11 hour days, 5 days a
week. My work day consists of making breakfast, lunch and snacks for all
of the kids; giving bottles to the babies and spoon feeding the toddlers who
aren't old enough yet to feed themselves; changing diapers; running kids to and
from the bathroom; working on potty training with the kids who aren't trained
yet; teaching preschool; planning and executing all of our preschool
activities; setting up lesson plans and materials for the next day; washing
dishes from whatever meal or snack the kids have eaten (we really need a
dish washer); sweeping and mopping the floor after meals; working on fine and
gross motor skills with ALL of the kids; tummy time for the infants; helping
the older babies with their rolling/crawling/walking skills; getting all of the
kids down for a nap; answering emails/texts/phone calls from parents who want
to check in on their kids or confirm some daycare-related detail or share a
cute anecdote about what their kid did over the weekend or the night
before. This doesn't include the parental things I do for my own kids
like the teeth brushing and getting dressed that I mentioned before, and it
also doesn't include the hours I spend every day consoling sick, sad or grumpy
kids, fixing boo boos, teaching them how to get along and play well together
and then stepping in when they're having a hard time being kind to each
other. It doesn't include the time I spend after my work day is finished
or on the weekends thinking up cool projects to do or games to play, or running
to the store for art supplies or wipes or whatever other daycare-related items
I need to keep the business running. It also doesn't include the time I
spend dusting and vacuuming and sanitizing the house to reduce the spread of
germs and illness. And then when the last kid goes home, I'm in Mommy Mode: cooking dinner (or, more likely these days, ordering dinner) and then cleaning up after. Then it's bath time for both kids, jammies and stories before bed, and then actually putting them to bed. Then there's another hour or so putting Bailey back to bed after she's attempted every one of the stall tactics in her repertoire. And this is all assuming they're both having a good day and being really agreeable. Factor in the middle of the night diaper changes and feedings and putting Bailey back to bed yet again and it's no wonder this mom is exhausted.Being a working mom is hard. Just as hard as being a stay at home mom. When all is said and done, though, aren't we all just trying to be the best moms we can be? Aren't we just trying to do what's best for our families? All debating aside, whether you're a stay at home mom or a working mom, you're working your ass off every single day to do right by your family, and for that we should all be commended.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Gerry: One Month Old
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| He found his voice tonight! |
Gerry is officially one month old, and it's been a quick month. We had a doctor's appointment this afternoon, and little man is tipping the scales at 10 lbs. 2.5oz. and 21 3/4 inches long. He did great throughout the appointment and even handled his HepB shot like a champ, only crying for a second before occupying himself with his bottle. His doctor mentioned that he has a slight case of strabismus which, of course, has me slightly worried. Strabismus, in laymen's terms, is being cross-eyed. I'd never noticed it in Gerry before, but his doctor explained that when light was shone in Gerry's eyes it was pretty centered in one pupil and slightly off-center in the other. When he showed me what to look for, I noticed it but it doesn't seem too bad. The doctor said that it's not something to worry about until he's closer to six months old, but that we can keep an eye on it. So for now we wait. And I refuse to stress about it. Honestly, if the doctor hadn't mentioned it I never would have noticed it or been aware of it. He's perfect to me anyway.
Doctor's visit aside, here's a little rundown of what Gerry's been up to the last four weeks.
 |
| Hey Girl |
He's smiling at people...sporadically. Still lots of sleepy smiles or smiles when he just stares off into space (my mom says he's smiling at his angels, and I find that hugely comforting to think), but he does smile often when Scott or I talk to him. And, of course, he smiles like crazy at Bailey. I'm happy to report that she still loves him to pieces.Gerry has also discovered his voice. He still surprises himself a lot of the time, but he's been making spontaneous noises a lot lately, and he's got the sweetest little voice.
Still not sleeping through the night, but we weren't expecting that anyway. He normally wakes up to eat around 1:30 am and then again around 5am. Luckily, he's pretty good about eating and then going right back to sleep, so it's not much of a hassle to get up with him...and we really can't complain about only getting up twice during the night, either! During the day, he's a pretty good napper, and is just about on the same schedule as the daycare kids. His long naps are usually from about 6am to around 9am or so, and then again from about 2pm to around 5:30pm. And then he takes a few more shorter naps throughout the day. He's a good sleeper. ;-)
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| He loves to be snuggled up |
That reminds me. Gerry loves to be snuggled up, whether it be in a blanket, a towel or in someone's arms. He relaxes that way and is instantly "chill". Bath time has also greatly improved! I think he actually really enjoys it now. He prefers the water nice and warm, and just kind of stares at me while I bathe him. He hates being naked and/or cold, though, so he usually cries when I take him out. But as soon as I've got him wrapped up in a towel he quiets down and stares or smiles while I lotion him up and get him dressed.
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| Cinderelly, Cinderelly? |
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Content?
Yesterday I got a Facebook message from a high school friend who I've only spoken to sporadically in the past ten years (which reminds me...I really need to be better about keeping in touch with old friends. Like, seriously). She asked me how I liked having kids and mentioned that when she told someone she wanted children someday, that person basically told her that she would regret it and to just take care of her husband and dog. So she wanted my take on things. And then she said something that I've been thinking about ever since: "You seem pretty happy and content, so I wanted to hear what it was like from a different perspective".
You seem pretty happy and content.
I can't get those words out of my head. Is that how I seem to people? Or just to people I don't see in everyday life? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that that is the image I give off, and it made my day to read those words. But I guess I've always just thought that when people read what I post on Facebook they got a different picture of my life. Kind of like..."frazzled, crazy children, doesn't know what the hell she's doing". That kind of picture. But contentment? That's something I didn't realize I exuded publicly. And it makes me happy to know that at least one person sees that.
When I first started this blog, it was all unicorns and rainbows and I'm-so-in-love-with-my-baby-and-can't-believe-how-wonderful-everything-is. And, at the time, that's totally how it was. But there were also those times where everything just seemed to go wrong and I couldn't get my shit together and Bailey had screaming melt-down tantrums and I wanted to just leave her in a basket on the front porch and hope that someone...anyone... took her. And I don't even have a front porch. But I didn't write about all those times because this blog was about my baby and I didn't want anyone to see that my baby wasn't always perfect or that *I* wasn't always perfect.
If you've been following this blog from the beginning, you'll see that things are a bit different these days. I'm "keepin' it real" and writing honestly. I'm not sugarcoating things these days (although, you can bet your bottom dollar that when one of my kids does something cute or brag-worthy, I'm totally going to write all about it and gush and be all "mom-like" and proud), and I'm not "hiding" the crazy, not-so-perfect parts of our life. It's all out there, guys, because these are the kinds of things I wanted and needed to read back before I had kids. These are the kinds of things I want and need to read now. I don't want to read about how damn perfect someone's life is or how wonderful someone else's kids are. I don't want to see pictures of a toddler's room that is so pristine and perfect it doesn't even look like the kid lives in it or pictures of the made-from-scratch cookies one mom baked with her kid. And I definitely don't want to see pictures with the caption "Johnny was a little devil today. He absolutely destroyed the house!" and there's just the faintest little handprint on the window in an otherwise picture-perfect, spotless home.
Those are the people who I've always considered happy and content. I've even gone so far as to bitch to my good friend about how perfect the life of one of the girls we went to high school with is, and what a beautiful house she has and how adorable and well-behaved and perfect her kids seem all the time...based on her Facebook photos and statuses. I don't talk to this woman on a regular basis, but maybe if I did she'd tell me that her life isn't all that perfect and that sometimes her kids are little shits and she'd like to lock them in a closet or something (but I bet she'd never use the term "little shits" because she's not one to curse and I, on the other hand, have a mouth like a sailor). Who wants to post a status on Facebook about what a horrible day their kid is having? Or post a picture of their kitchen counter that is now covered in permanent marker because they left their 2-year-old alone long enough to sneak to the bathroom in peace for the first time in 2 years and said toddler got into the junk drawer and found all the Sharpies? (By the way, if any of you know how to remove permanent marker from a countertop, I'd really appreciate you sharing your wisdom with me).
My point is...no one's life is as perfect as it may seem online. Especially mine. Hell, I started writing this post six hours ago. Six hours. And I'm only now just sitting down to finish it. In the middle of my third paragraph, Bailey threw the most epic tantrum I've ever seen over God-only-knows-what. When talking calmly/distracting/ignoring her didn't work I ended up sending her to her room and locking the door so I could regain my sanity. She spent a half hour screaming "mommy" at the top of her lungs and banging on her bedroom door. When I went up to talk to her (calmly and rationally and ending with a smile and an "I love you", 'cause that's how I roll) I found her wearing a set of rosary beads as a necklace. I have no clue where she found them, but I let her keep them because I figured after the way she just behaved the little demon needed God in her life. And then after that the baby pooped all over himself, the kitchen was still a disaster from lunch, Bailey had another tantrum, the baby threw up all over himself, Bailey had another tantrum, and the baby decided to join in all the tantruming because I wasn't feeding him fast enough...and so I'm just now getting back to this post. Six hours later. My life is far from perfect. But it is pretty damn good. Tantrums and screaming and all. And just when I think I can't handle another...damn...screaming fit, Bailey does something so incredibly sweet or so hilariously funny that I completely forget about how angry I was earlier. And THAT is when I post on Facebook.
For the record, I am content. Very content. Most days, I feel like I've got this mom thing down and like I really do know what I'm doing. On those days, I've had a shower and my hair looks halfway presentable, both kids are bathed, fed, happy and well-mannered, my house is (semi)clean and dinner is on the table. And also, I've gotten both children to bed with no tears and no arguing over "just one more show". But then there's a day or two (or four) where, at the end of the day, the ONLY thing I've successfully accomplished was to keep my kids alive. And that's okay. Because even if nothing else gets accomplished and we've had 14,000 things go wrong, these two still make my day a million times better than it would have been otherwise.
You seem pretty happy and content.
I can't get those words out of my head. Is that how I seem to people? Or just to people I don't see in everyday life? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that that is the image I give off, and it made my day to read those words. But I guess I've always just thought that when people read what I post on Facebook they got a different picture of my life. Kind of like..."frazzled, crazy children, doesn't know what the hell she's doing". That kind of picture. But contentment? That's something I didn't realize I exuded publicly. And it makes me happy to know that at least one person sees that.
When I first started this blog, it was all unicorns and rainbows and I'm-so-in-love-with-my-baby-and-can't-believe-how-wonderful-everything-is. And, at the time, that's totally how it was. But there were also those times where everything just seemed to go wrong and I couldn't get my shit together and Bailey had screaming melt-down tantrums and I wanted to just leave her in a basket on the front porch and hope that someone...anyone... took her. And I don't even have a front porch. But I didn't write about all those times because this blog was about my baby and I didn't want anyone to see that my baby wasn't always perfect or that *I* wasn't always perfect.
If you've been following this blog from the beginning, you'll see that things are a bit different these days. I'm "keepin' it real" and writing honestly. I'm not sugarcoating things these days (although, you can bet your bottom dollar that when one of my kids does something cute or brag-worthy, I'm totally going to write all about it and gush and be all "mom-like" and proud), and I'm not "hiding" the crazy, not-so-perfect parts of our life. It's all out there, guys, because these are the kinds of things I wanted and needed to read back before I had kids. These are the kinds of things I want and need to read now. I don't want to read about how damn perfect someone's life is or how wonderful someone else's kids are. I don't want to see pictures of a toddler's room that is so pristine and perfect it doesn't even look like the kid lives in it or pictures of the made-from-scratch cookies one mom baked with her kid. And I definitely don't want to see pictures with the caption "Johnny was a little devil today. He absolutely destroyed the house!" and there's just the faintest little handprint on the window in an otherwise picture-perfect, spotless home.
Those are the people who I've always considered happy and content. I've even gone so far as to bitch to my good friend about how perfect the life of one of the girls we went to high school with is, and what a beautiful house she has and how adorable and well-behaved and perfect her kids seem all the time...based on her Facebook photos and statuses. I don't talk to this woman on a regular basis, but maybe if I did she'd tell me that her life isn't all that perfect and that sometimes her kids are little shits and she'd like to lock them in a closet or something (but I bet she'd never use the term "little shits" because she's not one to curse and I, on the other hand, have a mouth like a sailor). Who wants to post a status on Facebook about what a horrible day their kid is having? Or post a picture of their kitchen counter that is now covered in permanent marker because they left their 2-year-old alone long enough to sneak to the bathroom in peace for the first time in 2 years and said toddler got into the junk drawer and found all the Sharpies? (By the way, if any of you know how to remove permanent marker from a countertop, I'd really appreciate you sharing your wisdom with me).
My point is...no one's life is as perfect as it may seem online. Especially mine. Hell, I started writing this post six hours ago. Six hours. And I'm only now just sitting down to finish it. In the middle of my third paragraph, Bailey threw the most epic tantrum I've ever seen over God-only-knows-what. When talking calmly/distracting/ignoring her didn't work I ended up sending her to her room and locking the door so I could regain my sanity. She spent a half hour screaming "mommy" at the top of her lungs and banging on her bedroom door. When I went up to talk to her (calmly and rationally and ending with a smile and an "I love you", 'cause that's how I roll) I found her wearing a set of rosary beads as a necklace. I have no clue where she found them, but I let her keep them because I figured after the way she just behaved the little demon needed God in her life. And then after that the baby pooped all over himself, the kitchen was still a disaster from lunch, Bailey had another tantrum, the baby threw up all over himself, Bailey had another tantrum, and the baby decided to join in all the tantruming because I wasn't feeding him fast enough...and so I'm just now getting back to this post. Six hours later. My life is far from perfect. But it is pretty damn good. Tantrums and screaming and all. And just when I think I can't handle another...damn...screaming fit, Bailey does something so incredibly sweet or so hilariously funny that I completely forget about how angry I was earlier. And THAT is when I post on Facebook.
For the record, I am content. Very content. Most days, I feel like I've got this mom thing down and like I really do know what I'm doing. On those days, I've had a shower and my hair looks halfway presentable, both kids are bathed, fed, happy and well-mannered, my house is (semi)clean and dinner is on the table. And also, I've gotten both children to bed with no tears and no arguing over "just one more show". But then there's a day or two (or four) where, at the end of the day, the ONLY thing I've successfully accomplished was to keep my kids alive. And that's okay. Because even if nothing else gets accomplished and we've had 14,000 things go wrong, these two still make my day a million times better than it would have been otherwise.
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| Content? Absolutely! |
Friday, January 25, 2013
3 Weeks Old!
Gerry was three weeks old yesterday. I can't help remembering how
differently I felt when Bailey was just three weeks old. I remember
looking at her on the day she turned one month old and thinking how I
couldn't believe that just four weeks I had given birth. It seemed so incredibly surreal at the time, and right up until her first birthday I would randomly think to myself, I gave birth ____ weeks/months ago.
I was in awe of the whole experience, in awe of the fact that I had had
a baby, in awe of the fact that she was here and she was mine.
This time around, I don't feel the same kind of wonderment. Don't get me wrong, I'm still completely in awe of what I did and the fact that I had a baby (and, yes, I will shout to the heavens that I had an 8 lb. baby without an epidural)...but I think I'm just so busy this time around (plus, it wasn't so new to me this time) that I haven't really sat down and processed how awesome it is. And it IS awesome. HE is awesome. The fact that I was blessed to grow another life and then bring that life into this world is awesome. But I don't have the luxury of hanging out at home and just gazing at my little boy for hours like I did with Bailey. Despite the busy-ness of our everyday lives, though, I'm still completely smitten with him.
So here's a quick rundown of how our first three weeks have been. In a word, it's been fantastic.
I mentioned in an earlier post how wonderful Bailey has been with him,
and I still stand by that. She just adores him and it makes me so proud
to see her with him, whether it's just sitting next to him with her
hand resting on his head, giving him a bink, or consoling him when he
cries ("It's okay, Baby Gerry. I know, I know. I'm here, it's
okay.")...to see her show him such love and empathy makes me happier
than I ever thought it would.
Then Gerry started to get agitated at every feeding. He'd nurse for a few minutes and then pull away. I'd put him back on, he'd nurse again for awhile, and then start batting at me and rooting around for more. He seemed frustrated and I was in pain all throughout the feeding. He lost weight, and hadn't gone back up to his birth weight by the time we had our weight check at around 2 weeks old. When he was born, he had blood sugar issues and jaundice that almost kept him in the hospital after I was discharged, so I was constantly worried about these things on top of whether or not he was getting enough to eat. When he wasn't nursing, I was pumping to keep up my supply and it felt like all I did was either nurse or pump all day and night. I wasn't spending time with either Gerry or Bailey because of it, and I started to feel stressed and sad. Luckily, I realized it early and made an appointment with my OB.
This time around, I don't feel the same kind of wonderment. Don't get me wrong, I'm still completely in awe of what I did and the fact that I had a baby (and, yes, I will shout to the heavens that I had an 8 lb. baby without an epidural)...but I think I'm just so busy this time around (plus, it wasn't so new to me this time) that I haven't really sat down and processed how awesome it is. And it IS awesome. HE is awesome. The fact that I was blessed to grow another life and then bring that life into this world is awesome. But I don't have the luxury of hanging out at home and just gazing at my little boy for hours like I did with Bailey. Despite the busy-ness of our everyday lives, though, I'm still completely smitten with him.
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| Good Morning! |
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| A little play yard fun |
I
woke up the other night and found Bailey laying on the floor (in our
bedroom) next to Gerry's bouncy seat. He sleeps best in there so we've
foregone the cradle for now, though we'll try putting him in it again
soon. Anyway, I found her laying on the floor next to him. They were
both wide awake and she was just talking to him about God-knows-what and
he was kind of looking at her...like he really knew what she was
talking about. I would have just let them go and let Bailey talk his
little ear off...if it hadn't been about 3:15am.And speaking of
3:15am...darling Gerry has not been sleeping as well as he was last
week. I'm chalking it up to (hopefully) a growth spurt and hoping that
he goes back to "normal" soon. The past few nights, he's been waking up
every 1 1/2-3 hours and yesterday he would not nap for anything! God
bless him, though, he only really cries if he's super hungry and I'm
taking too long to feed him. He just keeps wanting to eat and eat and
eat and would only sleep if I was holding him. The second I put him
down he'd wake right back up and fuss for a bottle.
Speaking of bottles...I'm no longer breastfeeding. And I think I'm
okay with it. I mentioned in this post about not being able to nurse Bailey and how I
really thought that contributed to my PPD. Well, I gave it my best shot
with Gerry, and he nursed right away after birth. I was thrilled, and
really thought that we'd be good to go. I saw lactation consultants while
in the hospital and spoke to a good family friend to get tips and advice.
I was told that we had a good latch and that I was doing everything right, but
by the third day I was in pain all over again. I was putting nipple cream
on around the clock and making sure that I had Gerry latched on properly every
time but it was still excruciatingly painful for me. I was pretty
determined, especially since he had nursed right away with no problem in the
hospital, but the pain just wouldn't let up. It got to the point where,
just like with Bailey, I dreaded every feeding. My mom knew how badly I
wanted to breastfeed, so she had armed me with everything I could possibly need
to have a successful nursing experience. Thanks to her, I had nipple
shields, cooling gel pads, comfort heating pads, nipple cream, nursing
bras...basically anything and everything I could possibly need. And I
used the hell out of it all. But nothing was helping ME.
 |
| FEED ME!!! |
Then Gerry started to get agitated at every feeding. He'd nurse for a few minutes and then pull away. I'd put him back on, he'd nurse again for awhile, and then start batting at me and rooting around for more. He seemed frustrated and I was in pain all throughout the feeding. He lost weight, and hadn't gone back up to his birth weight by the time we had our weight check at around 2 weeks old. When he was born, he had blood sugar issues and jaundice that almost kept him in the hospital after I was discharged, so I was constantly worried about these things on top of whether or not he was getting enough to eat. When he wasn't nursing, I was pumping to keep up my supply and it felt like all I did was either nurse or pump all day and night. I wasn't spending time with either Gerry or Bailey because of it, and I started to feel stressed and sad. Luckily, I realized it early and made an appointment with my OB.
She conferred with another OB in the
practice and they came to the conclusion that breastfeeding is a
"trigger" for my PPD. It doesn't come easily to me and I put
too much pressure on myself and on my baby to do it. The doctors made a
good point...stressing out over breastfeeding was keeping me from enjoying
Bailey and the new baby and was causing unhappiness at a time when I should
have been excited and looking forward to spending time with my children.
And a stressed out and unhappy mommy can only lead to stressed out and unhappy
kids. If I'm not enjoying my time with them, what's the point? So I
started giving Gerry formula. I wasn't thrilled about it, but he took to
it right away and I found that I was able to really enjoy him and I looked
forward to feeding him instead of dreading it (he looks right into my eyes and
squeezes my finger with his little hand, and it's one of my favorite parts of
our day). I was also able to enjoy Bailey more. The constant dread
of feeding time left me with little patience and a lot of irritation, and poor
Bailey had to take a back seat during that time. Now, I could sit and
talk to her or read a book or just generally give her some much-needed
attention while I gave Gerry a bottle and I could see that she was happier,
too. I wasn't spending my "downtime" worried about feeding the
baby or constantly attached to the breast pump, and it felt good. I was
able to pump and store enough that I can give Gerry some breast milk whenever
he gets a bottle (at least until it runs out), and I feel good that I can give
him at least a little bit of "the good stuff". I promised
myself that this time around if nursing didn't work out that I wasn't going to
beat myself up over it. I did cry a time or two while I was weighing my
options and making my decision but, ultimately, I think I did what was best for
all of us. Gerry is happy and thriving, Bailey is happy and loves to help
feed her baby brother, and Scott and I take turns giving him a bottle in the
middle of the night. Do I wish that I could exclusively breastfeed?
Hell yes, I do. But I'm not beating myself up this time around. I
did the best I could. And the added bonus is that I'm not suffering with
PPD and am on no medications for it...happy mommy, happy family.
Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of the happy family. I do, however, have a few pictures of Gerry. And one of Bailey. Miss Independent doesn't sit still long enough these days to get a good (read: non-blurry) picture. So for now, I leave you with these...
Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of the happy family. I do, however, have a few pictures of Gerry. And one of Bailey. Miss Independent doesn't sit still long enough these days to get a good (read: non-blurry) picture. So for now, I leave you with these...
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| Listen up, lady. Stop taking my picture! |
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| Snuggled up with mommy |
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| Sleepy Smiles |
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| My Happy Girl |
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Lost and Found
Scott and I decided to venture out to the mall with both kids last night. We didn't need anything, but it was nice to get out of the house for a bit and the mall, for whatever reason, is one of Bailey's favorite places to be these days. So off we went.
We enjoyed a nice dinner at TGIFriday's, grabbed some ice cream and walked around for a bit. Bailey's in this total independence phase and refuses to ride in the stroller anymore and since we didn't have the double stroller with us I figured it was no big deal to just let her walk "like a big girl". We had to go through Penney's to get out to our car and Bailey decided to take a little detour...again, no big deal. Scott was pushing Gerry in the stroller down a different aisle and I was walking with Bailey, so I let her go a few steps ahead of me and just kept reminding her that she had to stay close to me or she'd have to sit in the stroller. She was doing fine and jogging a bit ahead of me. She's 2, how fast could really jog, right? So I stupidly just followed her at my normal pace.
Then all of a sudden she morphed into a Nigerian sprinter at the Olympics and just took off.
It took me a few second to realize that she was really moving with some speed...and weaving in and out of the bedding and towel aisles. Thinking I'd be a cool mom, Ihauled ass caught up with her and made a game out of "finding" her at the end of each aisle she ran down. As a mother, there is nothing better than hearing the sound of your child giggling and knowing that you were a part of it. I was thinking this same thought when I realized that I didn't hear any giggles. And Bailey wasn't standing at the end of the next aisle. Or the next one. Or the next one.
Oh my God, I lost her.
I was trying not to panic but after a few seconds of not seeing her anywhere I started to freak out a little. I ran up and down the aisles and called her name for what felt like hours. I tried to be calm and thought, Scott's here. He'll help me find her. Until I realized that I couldn't find him, either. And he had the baby with him.
Good God, I've lost my whole family!
Now I REALLY started to panic. I always joke around with Bailey that if she doesn't stay close and/or hold my hand when we're walking that she'll end up going home with a stranger and now I was having these horrible pictures in my mind of someone snatching her up and running out the door with her before my dumb ass realized that I was the only one playing our stupid game anymore. What kind of mother am I? I lost my kid...in the mall. The rational part of me just completely broke right there and I started to cry (like any sane woman, right?). I ran up and down the aisles calling her name again and again...no answer.
I finally hear this little voice a few aisles down.
"'Dis a booby holder, Buzz. It for you boobies."
Sweeter words had never been spoken...and I knew where she was! I took off toward the lingerie section and found her trying on bras with her stuffed bear, Buzz Lightyear.
She had no clue that I'd lost her and couldn't understand why I was crying. I tried to be stern with her and tell her how much she scared me and that it was NOT okay for her to just wander off. But, technically, it was my fault. What parent in their right mind makes a game out of wandering down aisles with their 2-year-old? Lesson learned. No more games. And she MUST hold my hand while walking. For my sake as much as for hers.
I honestly think that I've never been so scared in my life than I was in those few moments it took me to find her. Truly terrifying. Days later I'm STILL kicking myself for it. So if any of you start wondering why I haven't left the house with my children in months...please refer back to this post.
We enjoyed a nice dinner at TGIFriday's, grabbed some ice cream and walked around for a bit. Bailey's in this total independence phase and refuses to ride in the stroller anymore and since we didn't have the double stroller with us I figured it was no big deal to just let her walk "like a big girl". We had to go through Penney's to get out to our car and Bailey decided to take a little detour...again, no big deal. Scott was pushing Gerry in the stroller down a different aisle and I was walking with Bailey, so I let her go a few steps ahead of me and just kept reminding her that she had to stay close to me or she'd have to sit in the stroller. She was doing fine and jogging a bit ahead of me. She's 2, how fast could really jog, right? So I stupidly just followed her at my normal pace.
Then all of a sudden she morphed into a Nigerian sprinter at the Olympics and just took off.
It took me a few second to realize that she was really moving with some speed...and weaving in and out of the bedding and towel aisles. Thinking I'd be a cool mom, I
Oh my God, I lost her.
I was trying not to panic but after a few seconds of not seeing her anywhere I started to freak out a little. I ran up and down the aisles and called her name for what felt like hours. I tried to be calm and thought, Scott's here. He'll help me find her. Until I realized that I couldn't find him, either. And he had the baby with him.
Good God, I've lost my whole family!
Now I REALLY started to panic. I always joke around with Bailey that if she doesn't stay close and/or hold my hand when we're walking that she'll end up going home with a stranger and now I was having these horrible pictures in my mind of someone snatching her up and running out the door with her before my dumb ass realized that I was the only one playing our stupid game anymore. What kind of mother am I? I lost my kid...in the mall. The rational part of me just completely broke right there and I started to cry (like any sane woman, right?). I ran up and down the aisles calling her name again and again...no answer.
I finally hear this little voice a few aisles down.
"'Dis a booby holder, Buzz. It for you boobies."
Sweeter words had never been spoken...and I knew where she was! I took off toward the lingerie section and found her trying on bras with her stuffed bear, Buzz Lightyear.
She had no clue that I'd lost her and couldn't understand why I was crying. I tried to be stern with her and tell her how much she scared me and that it was NOT okay for her to just wander off. But, technically, it was my fault. What parent in their right mind makes a game out of wandering down aisles with their 2-year-old? Lesson learned. No more games. And she MUST hold my hand while walking. For my sake as much as for hers.
I honestly think that I've never been so scared in my life than I was in those few moments it took me to find her. Truly terrifying. Days later I'm STILL kicking myself for it. So if any of you start wondering why I haven't left the house with my children in months...please refer back to this post.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Double the Pleasure, Double the Fun
So now that we've got just about two weeks under our belt, I figure now is just as good a time as any to come here and post a little update on life with 2 kids. I never thought I'd say this, but...
It's amazing.
Gerry is a dream baby. Seriously. Our first 3 nights were rough (two in the hospital and one at my mom and dad's), and he wanted to nurse every hour on the hour from about 11pm until 6am. THEN he decided that it'd be cool to sleep pretty much all day. But something magical happened our first night at home. Gerry fell asleep at 9:30pm...and didn't wake up until 5 the next morning. Scott and I both bolted out of bed and ran around frantically checking his breathing and making sure that he hadn't somehow smothered overnight. But he was totally fine, if annoyed that we'd woken him up.
And he's been this way ever since. We get 5-6 hour stretches of sleep every night and when he's awake he is the calmest, most "chill" baby I've ever met. He just stares at his surroundings and hangs out. TOTALLY different baby than Bailey. I love her to pieces but she was a freakin' nightmare of a baby. Didn't sleep more than two hours at a time until she was almost a year old and did nothing but cry when she was awake. She was truly frightening, and I was pretty much expecting a repeat with this one. But it's like God decided to throw us a bone this time around and I couldn't be happier. I realize that I'm probably jinxing myself and that there's still plenty of time for Gerry to turn a corner and become a demon-baby...but I'm hoping that doesn't happen.
Now that his umbilical stump fell off, we decided to give Gerry his first bath the other night. I can't get the video to upload at the moment, but suffice it to say there was a lot of screaming. He's not a huge fan of being unclothed and definitely prefers to be snuggled up and/or swaddled so getting him naked and submerging him in water was like his worst nightmare. But he survived!
Bailey has been so, so amazing with him and she's SUCH a good big sister. Before Gerry was born, Scott and I had talked about what Bailey was going to be like with him. Would she hate him? Would she ignore him? Would she resent this little person who took away some attention from her? I can't tell you how many days I spent stressing out over how to make her feel loved and like she was still Mommy and Daddy's "favorite girl". Turns out all my fears were for nothing because she has been fantastic.
When Gerry fusses, she stops what she's doing and immediately runs to him, ready to give him a bink. She'll just randomly walk over to him and give him kisses. She's always asking to hold "Baby Gerry". She wants to help give him a bottle, and she looks out for him when the daycare kids are here. Yesterday, the kids were being kind of loud and she swooped in and said, "Shhhh! You gotta be quiet, my baby brother is sleeping!" And she's been really good about things if/when I'm busy with the baby, whether it be feeding or changing him, pumping, giving him a bath, etc. So, so, sooooo much better than we were expecting. I fall in love a little bit more every time I see her with him, and I can't believe I spent so much time worrying about how we'd do with another little one in the house. I need to get more pictures of the two of them together. In the meantime, though, here are a few pictures of Bailey from the wedding she went to when Gerry was born. I can't get over how beautiful and "grown up" she looks!
I need to mention here how awesome Scott has been, too. When Bailey was born...I'm just gonna put this out there...he was not much help at all. He had NO idea what to do with a baby and so he just kind of went about his day like she wasn't there. That's not to say that he didn't do something if I asked him to...it just never occurred to him to take the initiative when it came to feeding, changing, clothing or general baby care. I was stuck in the haze of PPD for what seemed like forever and it just felt like I was doing it all alone, from the minute I went into labor until she was almost a year old. This time, though, Scott is a seasoned pro at the dad thing and knew what to do and expect. And I can say with 100% honestly and sincerity that he has been absolutely wonderful. He never let go of my hand while I was in labor and while I was pushingand screeching like a madwoman with no epidural (mostly because I had a death grip on his hand and refused to let go), and he's been phenomenal since we got home. He gets up with the baby and me in the middle of the night (usually, it's closer to 4 or 5am when Gerry wakes up, but still), he changes diapers almost better than I do, and he hangs out with Gerry and Bailey as often as he can between his work and sports schedules. I feel like he and I are a team this time around, and that's something I didn't have when Bailey was a baby. It's made the transition from one to two kids easier and made us more of a team, and I think we're all happier for it. Scott is a wonderful dad, and it makes me so happy to see Bailey's eyes light up when he comes home from work or to watch him
holding and talking to Gerry. I am one happy lady these days!
The transition back to daycare after only a week's maternity leave has been fairly easy (thank God Gerry is such an easygoing baby), although I definitely could have done with a few extra weeks off. But that's a post for another time. For now, I leave you with Gerry's very first smile. Also, it could just be gas...who knows, really?
It's amazing.
Gerry is a dream baby. Seriously. Our first 3 nights were rough (two in the hospital and one at my mom and dad's), and he wanted to nurse every hour on the hour from about 11pm until 6am. THEN he decided that it'd be cool to sleep pretty much all day. But something magical happened our first night at home. Gerry fell asleep at 9:30pm...and didn't wake up until 5 the next morning. Scott and I both bolted out of bed and ran around frantically checking his breathing and making sure that he hadn't somehow smothered overnight. But he was totally fine, if annoyed that we'd woken him up.
And he's been this way ever since. We get 5-6 hour stretches of sleep every night and when he's awake he is the calmest, most "chill" baby I've ever met. He just stares at his surroundings and hangs out. TOTALLY different baby than Bailey. I love her to pieces but she was a freakin' nightmare of a baby. Didn't sleep more than two hours at a time until she was almost a year old and did nothing but cry when she was awake. She was truly frightening, and I was pretty much expecting a repeat with this one. But it's like God decided to throw us a bone this time around and I couldn't be happier. I realize that I'm probably jinxing myself and that there's still plenty of time for Gerry to turn a corner and become a demon-baby...but I'm hoping that doesn't happen.
 |
| This is pretty much what he does all day |
Now that his umbilical stump fell off, we decided to give Gerry his first bath the other night. I can't get the video to upload at the moment, but suffice it to say there was a lot of screaming. He's not a huge fan of being unclothed and definitely prefers to be snuggled up and/or swaddled so getting him naked and submerging him in water was like his worst nightmare. But he survived!
 | ||
| My sweet little man |
Bailey has been so, so amazing with him and she's SUCH a good big sister. Before Gerry was born, Scott and I had talked about what Bailey was going to be like with him. Would she hate him? Would she ignore him? Would she resent this little person who took away some attention from her? I can't tell you how many days I spent stressing out over how to make her feel loved and like she was still Mommy and Daddy's "favorite girl". Turns out all my fears were for nothing because she has been fantastic.
When Gerry fusses, she stops what she's doing and immediately runs to him, ready to give him a bink. She'll just randomly walk over to him and give him kisses. She's always asking to hold "Baby Gerry". She wants to help give him a bottle, and she looks out for him when the daycare kids are here. Yesterday, the kids were being kind of loud and she swooped in and said, "Shhhh! You gotta be quiet, my baby brother is sleeping!" And she's been really good about things if/when I'm busy with the baby, whether it be feeding or changing him, pumping, giving him a bath, etc. So, so, sooooo much better than we were expecting. I fall in love a little bit more every time I see her with him, and I can't believe I spent so much time worrying about how we'd do with another little one in the house. I need to get more pictures of the two of them together. In the meantime, though, here are a few pictures of Bailey from the wedding she went to when Gerry was born. I can't get over how beautiful and "grown up" she looks!
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| Her flower girl dress was just adorable! |
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| Putting on her perfume |
I need to mention here how awesome Scott has been, too. When Bailey was born...I'm just gonna put this out there...he was not much help at all. He had NO idea what to do with a baby and so he just kind of went about his day like she wasn't there. That's not to say that he didn't do something if I asked him to...it just never occurred to him to take the initiative when it came to feeding, changing, clothing or general baby care. I was stuck in the haze of PPD for what seemed like forever and it just felt like I was doing it all alone, from the minute I went into labor until she was almost a year old. This time, though, Scott is a seasoned pro at the dad thing and knew what to do and expect. And I can say with 100% honestly and sincerity that he has been absolutely wonderful. He never let go of my hand while I was in labor and while I was pushing
The transition back to daycare after only a week's maternity leave has been fairly easy (thank God Gerry is such an easygoing baby), although I definitely could have done with a few extra weeks off. But that's a post for another time. For now, I leave you with Gerry's very first smile. Also, it could just be gas...who knows, really?
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Happy Birthday, Baby!
Okay, so I didn't have an-almost-month-long labor and delivery, I've just been really busy in the days leading up to the baby's arrival. But he's finally here! I'll post the full birth story at the top of the blog, just like I did with Bailey's, so you can get all the lovely details there. But to keep things short and sweet here, I'd like to welcome...
Gerald Anthony ("Gerry"), born on January 3, 2013 at 5:13am and weighing in at a whopping 8lbs. 11oz.
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| Happy Birth Day! |
He's sweet and perfect, and has been SUCH a good baby since we brought him home. Once again, I'm in love!
Here are a few more pictures from our first few days with Gerry (minus the million that I can't retrieve from my phone just yet)...
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| Mommy, Daddy and Gerry...all a bit sleepy! |
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| Bailey meeting her brother for the first time |
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| Time to go home! |
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| Sleepy little guy |
Friends of ours got married on Saturday, the day I was supposed to be discharged. Bailey was their Flower Girl so we couldn't miss the wedding! Since Gerry and I were stuck in the hospital, Scott and Bailey went together. Here she is getting ready for the "fancy dance"!
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| My beautiful girl |
More to come later!
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