He fits right in.

Posted on | September 11, 2013 | 42 Comments

smith newborn web-106smith newborn web-104smith newborn web-103smith newborn web-111smith newborn web-112smith newborn web-114smith newborn web-118smith newborn web-119smith newborn web-116smith newborn web-120A huge thank you to my dear friend Stacy Jacobsen for coming to our home the week after Smith was born to capture some shots of our new family of four (+ Lulu).

Narwhal mobile was a gift from Baby Jives…I just die.


Posted on | September 9, 2013 | 26 Comments


Plural. Two. As in, I have two kids.

Still unbelievable to me 4 weeks later. Four weeks! Smith will be a month old on Wednesday. Let’s try not to focus on how terrible I have been at blogging (I have good reasons! I think). When I think back to that fateful day my lady garden saw it’s lowest low (I still cringe and clench thinking about pushing) it feels both a lifetime away and also impossible that we are rounding the month mark. So much has happened in these four weeks. It’s been hard. Really hard. Adjusting to life with a newborn, while taking care of a near-five-year-old, while dealing with all the postpartum things kicked our asses. Mine especially (not taking anything away from Scot but the baby did fly out of my nether regions and then wanted to chew my nipples off, to be fair).

Week one brought ground beef nipples (I knew it would happen!), a buddy who was losing a lot of weight, trips to the lactation consultants and pediatrician, ending with a sweet case of mastitis. I mean COME ON. I’m fairly sure this is some sort of karmic payback for the things I say to people when in a total car rage. Wish people violent diarrhea before they make it home = messed up tits. I’m sure of it. See also: OUCH.

(unrelated but TOTALLY related I just spelled diarrhea right the first time which is seriously blowing my mind right now).

Week two and three brought a very unhappy, screaming baby, ending in a silent reflux diagnosis for our guy. Single tear emoticon. But we are dealing and he’s doing a lot better already. Damn those babies and their undeveloped inside bits! So much crying. From both of us. Not a lot of sleep, for any of us. Well except Harper – she sleeps like a log and I’m happy about it. Jealous but happy about it.

Week four brought a first day of pre-k for our big kid. She’s SO HUGE now. Like her head is massive and her hands and feet are epicly big and even though everyone told me that would happen it still did not prepare me for how large she now seems. She is loving school, her new friends, her old ones from last year and her new teachers (I adore them, too). I can’t believe we send her off to kindergarten next year but I can’t really go there or you guessed it: tears.

34Getting her ready for school and coordinating with a newborn has been a challenge but hey, welcome to life. I try to take one hour at a time, every day because literally what the hell else can you do. The answer is nothing. I’m not one of those moms who does this stuff all breezy. I’m just not. I remember these days with Harper (they’ve flooded back to me with every new week) and looking back I know it just keeps getting easier and you get better at dealing with it and all of a sudden one day you’re just doing it. I know we’ll get there and for now I just try to give myself some slack and focus on making every day good for each of them.

I think Harper loves Smith more than she loves us. I at least know she likes him more than she likes us. They are quite the pair and watching them is my favorite. I can only imagine how much more awesome it’s going to get. Heart esplosion!

I’m going to try to update here more often. That’s not a promise or nothin’, but it is something I really miss and I do have so much to say! Just so little time and only one arm most hours.


1Can you even? Because I cannot.

Smith | The first two weeks

Posted on | August 25, 2013 | 39 Comments

Holy crap, time flies. I had forgotten how crazy the first few weeks postpartum was. Even though I felt seriously amazing after having an unmedicated birth (minus getting those stitches sans epidural – dear sweet god), a few days later my body realized what it had just actually done, and by the time we arrived home every single thing hurt. The obvious places, then my boobs tried to explode, and all at once every muscle in my body hurt. It was a rough time on top of everything else. But as I hit the 2 week mark I can’t believe how great I feel again. My recovery period with H was so long and painful so to be feeling this awesome is really, well, awesome.

1We stayed 2 nights in the hospital due to Smith’s blood sugar levels being low ( he got stressed from coming out so fast) and could not have been happier to bust out of that place. I HATE being in the hospital. We missed Harper and being in our bed and not having people wake us up right as we almost fell asleep (I slept a grand total of 2 hours in the over 48 hours we were there. Hate).

2We settled right back into life at home (which isn’t like real life at all because Scot is home and we can tag team diapers and almost five-year-old meltdowns and letting the dog out and oh my god HOW am I going to do it when he goes back to work) and we’ve been enjoying every moment, save for my every so often hormonal cry-fests that I literally can’t help from happening. I end up laughing because I just can’t even stop the tears and it’s so ridiculous. Childbirth is cray.

3Thus far, Smith is an incredibly easy going baby. He loves being held, he loves sitting in his swing, he loves the car and he LOVES eating. I can’t wait to see the rolls start to form, but I’m so obsessed with his newborn chicken legs I’m not in a huge rush. As far as his personality, I can’t quite tell if he’s easier or if I’m just more laid back this time. Also, all of this easy going-ness could just be that he hasn’t quite realized he’s alive yet? So we’ll see. One thing I do know is I am obsessed with him, and it’s borderline ridiculous.

7Speaking of obsessed – this girl. I thought she’d love him but it blows me away. She ADORES him. She likes him way more than she likes us these days. Which is my favorite thing ever to watch. She talks to him all day and cannot give him enough kisses and hugs. She calls him “little mister” which I have no idea where she got but who cares because holy cute.

6I’m basically in denial that he is already 2 weeks old. I specifically remember in the hospital looking at the clock and realizing he was an hour from being 1 day old and telling Scot I was so sad at how fast it was already going. I am trying to cherish every single second because it’s flying already and it scares me how fast it will continue to go. I try to memorize moments, how his legs curl up in the froggy position, the tiny noises he makes and all these sweet times between Harper and him. I feel so sappy, but honestly I feel so complete and so happy and I disgust even myself when I talk about it all. I do apologize in advance but I just can’t help myself.

A story about a boy.

Posted on | August 20, 2013 | 104 Comments

Hey-o! I had a baby! And I’ve been so caught up with all that entails I haven’t even had a chance to come and tell you about it. But it happened! Oh shite, did it happen. It was wonderful, and terrible, and this has been one of the hardest and most amazing weeks of my life (yeah he’s a week old already I really am a blog slacker). The last time I felt this way was nearly 5 years ago when Harper was born. Childbirth (no matter HOW you do it) is freaking HARD and the weeks following it are brutal. Some days are harder than others. It’s crazier than Amanda Bynes is what I’m saying but here I am so let’s talk about it and look at my baby!

Smith12BWAs I had complained about for what, weeks? I was in prodromal labor for a while, which meant I wanted to kill people. Contractions were fairly constant for weeks, sometimes coming 3-5 minutes apart but never getting worse or closer. It was exhausting and frustrating to say the least. It wasn’t so much that I wanted him here early as much as I wanted the labor to either shit or get off the pot you know? Either get going or stop torturing me night and day and let me sleep. Scot was already on leave and I was walking around 4 cm dilated. We walked, we hung out as a family of three night and day, and we tried to keep ourselves busy while we waited.

Sunday morning at 5am I felt a contraction. There was nothing special about it whatsoever except during it It felt like he was going to kick through my belly button. I stood up to go to pee and yeah, that was my water. Even though it was so clearly my water breaking, I was so convinced I’d be pregnant forever I still questioned it. Like, did I just pee myself BAD? I started shaking a little because I was so excited it finally happened: we were having a baby and we were having it that day. An end in sight! I walked around a bit and nothing drastic seemed to be happening so I woke up Scot and had him call the hospital. They were super excited that I had been at a 4 at my previous appointment and said to stay at home until things got intense. Scot went to Starbucks to get stuff for us and my mom and I finished packing our bag. Then I got on the birth ball. I ate a breakfast sandwich and made jokes with my mom, contractions were about 5 minutes apart. Slowly but surely they were getting hard to talk through.

Before I knew it I was making some dying animal noises through them. It was now about 7:00 and Scot was rubbing my lower back to help me through them. One hit and when it was over I was like, “NOPE. NOPE. We’re going NOW”. He woke up Harper so we could say goodbye. I was in a tremendous amount of pain but there was no way I was leaving without hugging my baby. We all headed outside to give hugs and I was basically trying not to show that it felt like I was being murdered from the inside out. I failed. Harper cried because she was so upset seeing me in pain. We reassured her she’d be meeting her brother by the end of the day but mommy had to be in pain a bit first. We ended on a happy note and got the hell out of there. By this point I was out of my gourd. The car was the worst possible place I can imagine to be.

The car ride consisted of me yelling “NO NO NO NO NO NO NOPEEEE NO” essentially the entire ride. They were so close together I couldn’t even rest and I was told Scot if we got there and I was a 5 or 6 or something, I was getting the epidural. NO WAY could I endure hours more of this. We pulled up to valet and they offered me a wheel chair. No. Sitting is no. By this time I can tell I am scaring people but can not find an eff to give. The lady registering us is calm and slow and as I am doubled over a chair I picture myself kicking her in the neck. Her “I’m a normal person alive and not in labor” voice is making me want to kill her. Eventually she walks us to the birth center while I make more dying cow noises. The nurses there see and hear me and make the very wise decision to skip triage and take me to a room – where I walk around yelling as they ask me to get my pants off and get on the bed so they can check me.

Somehow I do it (no idea how) and she announces I am at 9. Oh. Right. About all that TRANSITION IN THE CAR. It’s 7:55 and suddenly the room is swarming with people. Doctor on call, baby nurse, more nurses, shit is HAPPENING. They tell me I can push whenever I want, so I start. I can’t even talk about this part because literally? I felt like I was turning inside out. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anything more in my ENTIRE life than pushing. I could hear myself screaming and being a total lunatic but could do nothing to stop it. I watched many natural childbirth documentaries and remember this one lady just sitting there in a tub and she barely made a peep when the baby emerged. NOPE. NOPE DOT COM. I think I actually scream-cried the baby out as opposed to pushed. It was that insane.

Luckily it only lasted about 4 contractions and he was out. I was SO in shock that it had gone so fast and so in shock that he was here. We were just looking at eachother and kind of laughing and looking at him in disbelief and the nurses were cheering because oh my god they got all the stuff ready in time and we did it. He was born at 8:08, less than 20 minutes after I landed on the bed to be checked. Talk about your almost car baby. YIKES.

We got all the annoying “after” stuff out of the way, I took some Motrin and before I knew it we were on our way to the room we’d be staying in. High fiving nurses as we came out. I have to be totally honest here – I felt amazing. I had the natural birth I had wanted SO badly. Physically I felt one trillion times better than I thought imaginable after birth (with H I left that delivery room crying over 4 hours later because everything was so bad from the epidural). I had my baby boy in my arms, my husband was looking at me like I was super woman and my first born was going to be able to finally come meet her brother within a few hours of me leaving her. It was one of the happiest days of my entire life.

23495678One of my dearest friends Fiona was going to come photograph the birth for us. Considering WE barely made it to the hospital in time there was obviously no way for her to get there. So she came once we got settled into our room and was there when H came. These photos are absolutely priceless to me and I tear up every single solitary time I look at them. I can honestly say I am so glad I don’t have photos of the birth. I was a scary faced scary screaming person and frankly out of my mind for 13 minutes. No need to commemorate that. This right here though? I’ll have these forever and I couldn’t be happier.

I had no plans of ever writing a birth story. But I just word vomited and I’m glad I did. It was an amazing day that deserves to be written down. And I share it here because I am proud of it, and so thankful for all of you who care about our family and have been so supportive over the years. I’ll be back soon, as these first couple postpartum weeks slowly get better (just because it was natural doesn’t mean my body escaped unscathed – it’s been a rough road this past week). Right now we are settling in to our new normal, and I couldn’t be happier.

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