Top Ten Lessons from my Father

I can't let this day go by without recognizing all the many lessons I learned from my Daddy. These are lessons learned both as a child and as an adult. I admire my father for so many things, but these are the things that really have helped shape who I am.

10. Don't Be Afraid to Laugh at Yourself 
Anyone who knows my Dad knows that his personality is larger than life. He is constantly calling himself a redneck or a nerd. And he let us joke around with him at times about how embarrassing he could be to us, especially as teenagers. There's just something so reassuring and confident about someone who doesn't mind laughing at themselves.

9. Don't Let Them (Him) Know He Hurt You
 There was a time when I had my heart broken by a boyfriend during my years of teen angst. I will never forget my Dad catching me sobbing on the phone with him, trying hard to understand why he was breaking up with me and my Dad making me hang up the phone. When I got off the phone, my Dad looked at my tear streaked face and told me not to sit there sobbing on the phone with a boy. He's not worth it. Thanks Dad for teaching me self value.

8. Loyalty
When your father works for the same company he started at after graduating from college, works his way up to the top and retires from that company, it teaches you a thing or two about loyalty. But it wasn't just wrapped up in work, my father brought that same type of loyalty to family and friends. He is dependable, reliable and loyal and he set such a great example for my brother and I growing up.


7. You Can Do Anything You Put Your Mind To
Similar to my mother, my father also told me regularly that I could do anything I set my mind to. But more than that, he demanded excellence from me and modeled for me what it was like to put your mind to something and accomplish it. I've seen him do it in so many different ways and his expectations of me taught me how to do it myself.

6. Work Hard, Play Hard
Many of the lessons I learned from my Dad were in huge part by observation. This is another one of those lessons. Not only did my Dad expect me to pitch in and do my part at home, but he showed me what it was like to work hard. In an era when so many of my friends were literally getting whatever they wanted handed to them on a silver platter, I had to work hard to just be part of my family and it taught me the work ethic that has suited me so well as an adult. But in addition to working hard, I also observed that my father also played hard. Whether it was weekend camping trips or days out fishing, my Dad showed me what it was like to reward hard work with good times. 


5. You Can Count Your True Friends On One Hand
As a child, certain things stick with you well into adulthood. One of those things for me is something my father used to say to me when I was a young lady. As I would go through the pre-teen and teenage drama often associated with girl friends, my father would often remind me that it's very rare to have true friends and those friends are often more like family. I remember arguing with him that this friend of that friend was a true friend and I remember him being equally as stubborn that years from now, that person would be a distant memory while others would remain friends. I now know what he was talking about and hope that my kids learn this lesson early on as well.

4. Dance Like Nobody is Watching (also known as Who Gives a Damn What They Say)
My Dad is himself NO MATTER WHAT. He doesn't have a problem speaking his mind or being exactly who he is no matter what. I am a lot like my Dad in this way and while I may embarrass my children in the future (in some of the same ways my Dad embarrassed me, if I'm lucky), I hope they learn to be themselves no matter what just like I did.

3. Gratitude
My Dad will tell you quite readily about his humble beginnings. You know, walking to school uphill, both ways, in bare feet with nothing to play with but rocks, sticks and medicine bottles. But regardless of what he tells you, you will see that he has a gracious spirit for the ways in which he and us as his family has been blessed. He taught us to appreciate the things we have and to not take them for granted. I think this particular attribute is one that my generation can be lacking in and I am proud to have learned this from my father.

2. Generosity
Hand in hand with gratitude is a spirit of generosity. Now, my Dad wasn't particularly generous with us as kids when it came to allowance or brand name clothes, but he taught us to give not only money or material goods to those less fortunate than us, but more importantly, he taught us to give our time and our hearts. For as long as I can remember, my Dad has been involved (usually in some leadership role) with a charity of some sort and he takes it completely to heart. What a role model!


1. Family is Everything
I would say the single biggest lesson I have learned from my father is that family is everything. When times are tough, your family is there. When you celebrate, family is there. Even when you fight, your family is still there. It is something that I believe I have marinated in all throughout my childhood and therefore have (hopefully) brought this same spirit to my own family. Because, really, my family IS everything.

Perhaps you have gathered this by now, but I am a lot like my father. When I was younger this would irritate me at times. Heck, even now we may bump heads because we are so similar. But I am honored to be like my father.

Can I just brag on my kids for a moment?

I am really impressed with how well they have both taken to their new sibling and their part in all of it. Now, I know that having a 4 year gap between Bennett and Landon and an almost 8 year gap between Morgan and Landon makes it a bit easier, but seriously, they have been so great -- far beyond my expectations. I expect it out of Morgan, she's another "little momma" and is old enough and responsible enough to be really good with the baby. I was a little worried about Bennett though. His personality is so big and I was worried about what he would do to try to compete with the baby. So far (knock on wood), he has not been trying to compete with Landon. In fact, the only problem we've had so far was one time when Bennett was sick (he got a cold on Easter) and Morgan was feeding Landon a bottle. Bennett wanted a turn and I had to remind him of how he was sick and couldn't be near the baby right now. He understood, but had a small melt down. I took him upstairs with me for some time alone watching TV in my bed (which he never gets to do) while I pumped. He came around and he said he understood. He was so good while he was sick too, never getting too close to the baby and not getting upset by the fact that Morgan could hold Landon and he couldn't.

I have been trying to give him Landon-centric jobs that he could do while he was sick, like helping with diaper changes by getting the diaper, the wipe, etc. and he's done this each time with complete joy. In fact, he comes running every time he's around and I'm changing a diaper. I am so lucky!

Now that he's feeling better, he will sit next to me holding Landon or next to Landon and talk to him. "There's some eyes, Landon! Do you see me, bubbas? I'm your big brother! I love you, Landon!" It just makes my heart all ooey gooey melty. I couldn't be more proud of the kids I'm raising!

THIS is precisely why I wanted to have another child.

Top Ten Lessons from my Mother

10. Ettiquette
I often wondered if my mom might have secretly been Emily Post. It wasn't like we lived some high brow life style, but it seemed like my Mom always knew the right things to do. From the timeline on writing thank you cards to when it was okay to wear what type of clothing to the right thing to say during difficult times, my mother always seems to know the answer. In fact, at times, friends have asked me for advice on ettiquette on a few occasions, and I often let them know that I will run it by my Mom. She knows everything! Hopefully some of this has rubbed off on me.

9. Go to church, every Sunday
I remember fighting with my Mom on some Sundays, not wanting to go through the effort of getting ready for church, making the 20 minute drive there and sitting through what I deemed to be a boring and lengthy service. However, if it weren't for that being ingrained in my heart and soul from an early age, I am not sure that myself or my family would have our relationship with God that we have now. She must have known how my soul would long for the filling up I get on Sundays and how that would lead me down the path of a stronger walk with the Lord.


8. Never put something in writing you wouldn't want someone to see
I am pretty sure this one has bitten me on the butt several times, but I often have my mother's voice in my head as I put my proverbial pen to paper, whether it be an email, a blog or an actual letter. I always keep this exact quote in mind. It not only helps keep me honest, but it also forces me to be empathetic.

7. Don't let people take advantage of you
I wasn't too old when my mother first recognized that I was a strong personality and often attracted a certain type of "friend" who needed guidance or help from a stronger person. My mother was always cautioning me to make sure I wasn't being taken advantage of by various friends who might not have been as good for me as was trying to be for them. I have a tendency to want to help, or "fix" these friends and it's lead to many heartbreaks for me. My mother was also fairly good about limiting the "I told you so's". :)


6. It's not easy to be a good parent, but it is easy to be a bad parent (Also known as: If I didn't care, I would let you do that)
My parents modeled this lesson by example. They were very strict with myself and my brother growing up and while it was hard to understand why then, being a parent now I realize how discipline and consistency are the keys to good parenting. We've often talked about the easy way out (giving in to what the kids want) vs. the hard way (being consistent) and I've seen it pay off with my own kids as they've grown. I only hope my fortitude will remain as we enter the teenage years! 


5. Make traditions, make memories
 This isn't a lesson that I was explicitly taught, but it was one I learned by being in a family that was really close and that thrived on traditions and made lots of memories. Some of these traditions, I've carried on into my own family (hamburgers on Christmas Eve, birthday dinners, etc) and I've even made new traditions. When I think back to my own childhood, it was even the tiniest of traditions that created the biggest memories. I hope my kids will be able to look back and have the same feelings I have.

4. Give lots of hugs and even more kisses


This is another lesson that nobody had to teach, I just learned. I remember even when I was much too big to be crawling into my momma's lap, sitting there basking in her love. Uncounted hugs, uncounted kisses - given freely to me just for being there.

3. It's not all about you
My mother has always taken time out for others. I've seen her lead this lesson by example my entire life. If someone was sick, she would bring them dinner. If there was help that was needed at school or at church, you would most likely find her there helping. She got us involved too. We would help buy and give gifts to those less fortunate than us as kids. Heck, she even keeps track of how often she can give blood (she is often low on iron and can only give so often), and when she can she does. She taught us that there is more to life than us. That we are not the center of the universe, that we are part of a community and that it's important to give back.

2. Take time for yourself, you are important too
Lest you think my mother was some sort of martyr that only gave and never took care of herself, please let me be the one to tell you that my momma is a well rounded lady. She has bridge nights, couples' bridge, golf, handbells, choir, dinners/breakfast and movie nights with friends,  mah johng, etc. The list goes on and on and it always has. She has a life. She is not defined by being a wife or a mother or any one thing. She is well rounded and I love her for teaching me that lesson.


1. You can do anything you set your mind to
My mother would regularly say this to me. Exactly as I've stated it above. There was no doubt in her mind and therefore little room for doubt in mine. If I wanted something, all I had to do was decide I wanted it and do the work and it would be mine. I cannot even begin to explain how big a role this lesson has played in my life. I only hope I'm able to do the same for my children.

My Momma. She's pretty amazing, right?

Two weeks and all is well

Never let them see you sweat

Or cry for that matter. No matter how many children you have, it seems that nothing can bring you to tears quite like a good combination of baby "issues", postpartum hormones and an inconsiderate doctor.

When Morgan was a baby, she would not latch on to nurse for anything. They sent me home from the hospital with all kinds of contraptions, never really explaining to me that it wasn't normal or that she was at risk for many things (including but not limited to jaundice, Failure To Thrive, etc.). I knew my milk had not come in yet and knew that she wasn't really eating great, but felt assured that the tubing that they had me tape to my chest before every feeding would make it all better. Or maybe that she would eventually get the hang of drinking from a medicine cup or medicine dropper. It never dawned on me until we went to our first in-office pediatric appointment, the day after being released from the hospital, that her excellent sleeping habits might actually be caused my malnutrition. Imagine hearing that, as a first time parent from a professional doctor. In other words, I heard "you are starving your baby and that is why she sleeps so much". The panic alarms went off inside me and I got completely stressed out. The fact that she wouldn't nurse made it all that more alarming. I was pumping and feeding her, but apparently not as often as they wanted or as much as they would like. Forget the fact that she was sleeping. I was told things like "strip her down and put a cold rag on her to get her to eat". When you hear things like that, the stress level escalates and you feel like the worst parent ever. And with Morgan being our first, I felt it all compounded with these major feelings of inadequacy and kept asking myself how I was going to do this. What have I gotten myself into? Eventually, I gave in and decided to confront nipple confusion head on and while I continued giving her breastmilk, I found it much easier to do so in a bottle and not the medicine dropper. We got into the groove of bottle feeding her, and then pumping for the next feeding. This happened so frequently (it took 20-30 minutes to bottle feed and 15-20 minutes to pump) that it seems like I was doing this around the clock, especially through growth spurts. I would periodically try her on the breast, at times when she wasn't completely starving and I had a lot of patience. Finally, somewhere around 8 weeks old, she finally caught on to the nursing thing and we went on to successfully nurse until she was about 10 months old.

Then there was Bennett. Now, he came out hungry and nursing like a champ, so all my anxiety related to that quickly dissipated and just as I was getting confident in what a great baby I had (heck, my milk was in and he was gaining weight before we even left the hospital!), I realized that I had been thrown another parental curve ball. A fussy or difficult baby that wouldn't sleep. I knew from the moment we brought him home that he was way more interested in making sure he didn't miss a thing at home than he was in sleeping. We had invested in those new-fangled swaddling blankets and I was using them religiously. That is until Mr. Houdini figured out how to free himself. Every. Single. Time. There were nights where we were up every 30-45 minutes because he had freed himself and was pissing himself off with his free arms. Oh the torture! We'd have to reswaddle him, settle him down and pray that the swaddle stuck for longer than an hour. I remember researching different/new swaddle blankets, swaddling him in a regular blanket INSIDE the swaddle blanket, etc. Nothing was keeping this kid in and he just didn't seem to want to sleep unless he was tightly swaddled. He was one of those babies you had to be careful to not overstimulate him and had to watch his cues like a hawk, lest you miss the yawn in that perfect window for sleeping. Which is not always easy with another kid in tow, mind you. But, eventually we quit the swaddle blanket. Cold turkey was the best way to go and we never looked back from there. Bennett still is not my "good sleeper", but nevertheless, we managed to work our way through that parental challenge.

Baby number three - what else is there that hasn't been covered? I've had the baby that didn't eat and the baby that didn't sleep. I felt pretty well prepared for both of these situations and knew what indicators to look for for either one of these types. When Landon was born, he latched on and nursed like a champ, right away. After bringing him home and him having his days and nights mixed up for the first two nights, he started to give us 3-4 hour stretches of sleep at night. Blessed sleep! Is it true? Did we get the perfect baby?

Well, if I had spent a little less time romanticizing the perfect third child, perhaps would not have been in for the rude awakening that I was to experience when he failed to gain weight back as expected for a baby who was latching on so great. Well, apparently he was eating only the minimum amount needed to sustain his little body and then he would promptly go back to sleep. This was made clear in the week after his birth, where he maintained his weight at 8 lbs 14 oz for the entire week. We were in the pediatricians office nearly every day that week and we watched as he lost an ounce, gained an ounce and then maintained. We were given the advice to wake him every 2 hours during the day to feed him and every 3 hours at night. We did this, but he did not gain. Next, we were told to do this AND supplement with a bottle of breast milk after EVERY feeding. I completely lost it at this appointment because I felt like such an idiot. I mean, come on. I'm not new at this. How could I not know that my child was not getting enough to eat? How could I have been so proud of his sleeping when his sleeping was getting in the way of his eating (similarly to Morgan)? Also, I began to have flashbacks to the issues I went through with Morgan. All the pumping and bottle feeding. I didn't want to accept this as the answer because I knew how much work it was. And my baby WAS latching correctly. It just all seemed too much. Not to mention that the doctor we saw that day (not our regular pediatrician) said a few things that really rubbed me the wrong way. I was a bawling, hormonal mess. I texted my friend Melissa and she called me. I could not keep it together while talking to her. She gave me some great advice - just nurse your baby. He's going to gain weight. It's temporary. Hang in there. And so I did. I hung in there, I nursed him every 2-3 hours and then my mom and Lance bottle fed him after while I pumped. We did that for two more days and then went in for another weight check. Finally, FINALLY he gained weight - adding 3 oz to his 8lbs 14 oz, he weighed in at 9 lbs 1oz!. We were advised to feed more on demand (since Landon was not showing signs of hunger) but continue to supplement. So we did that for another two days and he gained another 2 oz! Our pediatrician then recommended that we continue to feed on demand and cut out the supplemental bottles and so we did that and after another two days, he gained 4 oz, up to 9 lbs 7 oz (only 2 oz shy of his birth weight, which is where they want them to be at 2 weeks old). Finally, we were told we were out of the woods and could officially quit worrying about his weight gain. It seems like he's gotten over the hump and was nursing more efficiently.

Now I've got a little oversupply issue to deal with, but I remember going through that with Bennett before and know how to manage that. But, it is just always something, right? I know nobody ever said caring for a newborn was easy, but who ever thought that three babies could be so different, but yet each of them make you sweat and cry nonetheless. I've told Morgan and Bennett about the ways they challenged me as a mother when they were newborns and one day I'll have the same conversation with Landon. Maybe it will help them appreciate me even more.

Just one week

Happy Easter!

As if coming home from the hospital isn't enough to take in for one day, there was also the Easter preparations to worry about. Bennett is my original Easter baby, having been born on Easter morning in 2007. Now I have a new Easter babe, born on Maundy Thursday! Unfortunately, that meant that I was not going to be able to go to church for Good Friday services or even on Easter morning, and I admit I was a little saddened by that. Luckily, my mom was game for taking the kids to church on Easter morning, so after the eggs were all found, breakfast and a good dose of sugar was had, off they went. Myself, Lance and my Dad stayed back and celebrated Easter with Landon at home.

Here are a few pictures from Easter morning!

The kids' baskets

 The pre-hunt investigation

Easter Sunday best!

Bringing Home Baby

You know that show on TLC? The one where they come home with new parents as they transition their life to a +1 with a new baby at home? Yeah, I always wondered what those parents were thinking. As if the experience itself weren't enough, you should also invite cameras into your home to document some of the most tender moments in your life? Not for me. Those first two nights at home with baby are notorious in our family for being sleepless and trying, often with tears of both joy and also frustration as you try to meet your new baby's needs every waking and non waking moment. Not sure I'd want cameras in my house documenting my exhausted look as I get up to change the baby one more time, or struggle with a tiny baby and getting them in the right position to nurse correctly. Not for me, thanks.

I knew that I could leave the hospital on Saturday morning, and boy was I ready. The bed at the hospital was just unbearable and I was anxious to come home to my family. I just waited for the doctors to do their rounds that morning so that I could be discharged and I was ready to go when they did. Freedom!

Morgan and Bennett were sooooo excited to have us come home. I think Bennett was mostly excited to have Lance and I back home, as he seemed to be having a rough time with leaving us at the hospital. Morgan was mostly excited about bringing "her baby" home to become part of our family. They were both awesome on the drive home. They were our eyes on Landon as we made the 20 minute trek home. Should he bat an eye or make any sort of noise, they would let us know. "Mom, he just yawned!" or "Momma, he's asleep."

When we got home, we followed tradition (since it had been the same with the other two) and let the sleeping baby stay in the car seat. Bennett and Morgan immediately got out their new toys, compliments of Landon, and started playing. As if we hadn't just brought home a new baby. It was actually reassuring to me, seeing them continue with life as normal.

It seems that there is some amazing ability babies have to sense that they are no longer at the hospital and what they had been doing (sleeping non-stop), no longer applies now that there are no longer a team of nurses standing by to take the baby to the nursery if you need a moment of sleep. Ahh, the joys of bringing home baby. 

By now, with my third I'm aware of many of the pitfalls of newborn life. Not eating, not sleeping, etc and with Landon I'm anxiously looking out for the signs of either. The first two nights at home proved to me that he could eat and the first two days at home proved to me that he could sleep. Only need to get the daytime and nighttime in the right order. :)

I reserve the right to change this statement later, but as of now, this child appears to not have the eating issues Morgan had as a baby or the sleep issues Bennett had as a baby. Perhaps, just perhaps, this is my mellow-go-with-the-flow third child. If only I'm so lucky! I'm looking forward to finding out more how this little guy is going to fill in the pieces of our family.

Welcome to the world, Landon Lee

I don't know if it was the uncomfortableness of my exploding belly and my aching hips or if it was the anticipation of what was to come when I awoke, but I did not sleep all that well the night before my scheduled induction. I had everything ready to go the night before and rolled out of bed to prepare myself to meet my new son later that day, with any luck. My induction was scheduled to start at 7:30 on Thursday morning, April 21st. Morgan and Bennett had school, so my Mom agreed to stay behind to drop them off at their respective schools and then meet us at the hospital after. They were so excited about the events of the day (also including their own activities at school - an egg drop for Morgan and an Easter party for Bennett) that they were both up and ready to go when Lance and I left for the hospital. We got plenty of hugs before we set off, and we made it to the hospital at just the right time. My nurse, Carla, immediately took me to my room to get me started. I got into my most fashionable hospital gown, got into the bed and was waiting for the nurse to come check me and get my IV started.

Now, I was certain that I would be at least 2-3cm dialated since my last check, a week earlier and before another week's worth of contracting was 1cm. Therefore, you can understand why it was such a surprise to me when Carla said, "1cm and still thick and far back". Those were not the words I wanted to hear, but Carla assured me that we would be holding my baby in my arms later that day. Carla was great about explaining to a new-to-induction mother the process and also dispelling any misconceptions I had. I was particularly worried about how much pain I'd be in with the pitocin and when I'd be approved for the epidural. She assured me that we could do the epidural as soon as I was ready for it, so I was relieved to hear that. She began to prepare me for the pitocin by inserting an IV for fluids. She took a look at my swollen hands and warned me that this might be hard. She searched for good veins, gave it a try and went to get help. They finally were able to get it into a vein on the back of my right hand, which is less than ideal, but better than the alternatives. Once the IV was in, she gave me a bag of fluids to prepare me for the epidural and then started the pitocin at 8:30am. Carla let me know that she would be monitoring my contractions and would be increasing the dosage of pitocin every half an hour until they had me where they wanted me.

I began to feel contractions within fifteen minutes, but they were the same as I'd been having. After 30 minutes, Carla came in and increased the pitocin. Pretty soon after, my mom showed up and we started a game of spite and malice (card game) to help pass the time. I won one hand before Carla came back in to increase to dosage again. I won another hand as the contractions started to get stronger. It was during the third hand that I was unable to concentrate on the game anymore and I knew it was time to ask for the epidural. Carla told me she was going to check me again before they gave it to me and I was so fearful that there was going to be no progress, given that I am used to being in labor and not progressing until I am in so much pain I can't talk. Carla checked me around 11am and I was pleasantly surprised that I was at 3cm already, though he was still high up. I could tell he was high up because during every contraction, I felt the pressure of his body being pushed under my ribs. With my other labors, the pressure had been mostly low and in my back. This time was a lot different. Nevertheless, I felt more comfortable getting the epidural knowing that I was progressing.

The anesthesiologist came in to give me my epidural and I let him know how difficult it had been on my previous two births to get it in right. He was great about letting me get through the contractions and letting me know what he was doing so that I could anticipate when I would be expected to hold still. The contractions were really strong by this point, and even though he did a great job getting the epidural in, it still took a few tries. This was one of the toughest parts of my labor (as it usually is) since the pain was so high and I had to sit so still. An added challenge on this birth was that I was so big and the baby still so high up, it was hard for me to round my back properly. Ultimately, we got it done and the epidural started to take effect within fifteen minutes. Sweet relief!

With the epidural, I was able to relax, chat with my mom and Lance and wait until it was go time. I know they checked me around 12:30pm and I was still at 3cm, so they sent my doctor in to break my water. That seemed to help move things along because the next time they checked me, I was at 6cm. Things were really starting to progress. By 2pm, I was starting to feel some uncomfortableness again and thought it was because they'd had me on my left side. I tried to flip over to the right side (with some help from Lance) but that didn't help either. I was feeling the contractions again. I let Carla know and she told me that she though the baby had probably moved down into the birth canal and things were really starting to happen. She would check me again soon and find that I was almost at 10, but I needed a little more progress on my left side, I flipped back over to my left side. In the midst of all this, they called the anesthesiologist back in to give me a little bit more on the epidural and that worked within 10 minutes. Around 2:45, we did a test push to make sure I could still push with the epidural and with that confirmed, we waited for the doctors to arrive. Even though I was under the full influence of the epidural, I did feel some slight pressure to push, but was able to wait until everyone was ready. Shortly after 3pm, I was given the okay to push. I was extremely emotional at this point, and started bawling. I thought about how long I've been waiting for this little guy and the fact that I would have him in my arms so soon was almost too much to take in. But, it wasn't time to cry, it was time to do my job. I pushed hard for three pushes and then they told me to stop. I heard them suctioning the baby's nose and mouth and knew that he was almost here. More tears. One more push and out he came, a really big boy, born into this world at 3:14pm! The pediatrician actually missed the birth since it happened so fast and everyone seemed really impressed with my pushing. Not sure why that made me feel good, but I guess when it's your job to do that and everyone is impressed, you have to feel good. :)


This is the point where they ask if you want the baby on your chest. To be truthful, I'm the kind of girl that wants the baby all cleaned up before they give him to me, but for some reason when they asked this time, the answer was yes, please put him on my chest. Not sure if it was the weeks and weeks of anticipation, or knowing that this is my last baby, but I really needed to see him and hold him right away. I wasn't disappointed either. I looked at him and fell in love. All that time of wondering who he would look like and here he was, looking right at me.  A great combination of Lance and myself. Lance's forehead, eyebrows, eyes and my nose, chin and chubby cheeks. From what I could tell, he looked a lot like Morgan did as a baby. He had blondish hair and lots of it and tons of rolls on his legs and arms. Everyone kept commenting on how big he was and he really felt substantial in my arms. My boy.

They took him to do the Apgar and weigh him. We could hardly believe it when they placed him on the scale. 9 lbs 9 oz!! WOW! Considering both Morgan and Bennett weighed in at 7 lbs, 11 oz this was out of nowhere! Then the nurses started commenting on his umbilical cord. I thought maybe there was something wrong with it - maybe there was a knot or something and immediately started to get concerned. But the strange thing was that they were smiling. I asked them what they were talking about and they said that he had a huge cord and it was no wonder he was so big, I was providing him with all kinds of good stuff. I smiled, happy to hear all the positive comments. They gave him his Hep B shot and gave him back to me. He was making a sound that they didn't really like, so while they swaddled him and handed him back to me, they warned me that if he didn't stop making that sound, they were going to have to take him to the nursery. Lance and I looked him over and we decided that he did, in fact, look like a Landon (our first pick name). We named him Landon Lee, Lee being mine, my mother's and my grandma's middle names.

Now, I guess it wouldn't be a birth of one of my children if they weren't taken immediately to the nursery. Morgan had a heart murmur, Bennett had a weak cry, and now this baby was making a sound like he had "stuff" he couldn't get out. I tried to nurse him and see if he would stop making the sound, and they thought it had worked because he sounded better momentarily, but then he started again. I decided I'd rather they take him and make sure he's okay and so they took him to the nursery to suction his stomach. Lance went with them and said that they suctioned out 4cc of fluid. Apparently this isn't that much, but it was thick mucus and afterward he was doing great. While Landon was in the nursery, I called my friend Melissa who was keeping Morgan and Bennett that afternoon. I talked to both of the kids and let them know that their brother had arrived. I texted a picture of him to them and we arranged for when they would come up to the hospital to meet him. Morgan was excited to meet him and Bennett was more excited by the cookies they had decorated at Melissa's and were eating right then. :)

I sent out an email announcement, posted it on Facebook and let the whole world know how delighted we were to finally meet our little "big" guy. The emails and comments started flooding in and it was fun to read them all while I was killing time, waiting for them to bring my baby back! I finally got tired of waiting and called Lance to see what was going on. He let me know that everything was okay and they'd be bringing him back soon. When they did, I nursed him some more and he sounded much better. What a relief!

Before I knew it, Melissa was dropping the kids off to meet their brother. Both of them were so cute and so sweet with him, it was great! While they were here, Carla gave Landon his first bath and the kids watched, especially Morgan, as they went about getting our little guy cleaned up. The kids hung out with us for about an hour before Bennett started getting restless and so everyone went to dinner and left Landon and I at the hospital for some bonding time. Sweet baby bonding time. I held him and couldn't stop kissing his chubby little cheeks. I couldn't quit holding his sweet baby hands and counting his cute baby toes. This is my son. My baby. I felt this complete sense of satisfaction that my family is now complete.

Before long, Lance was back and we just took turns ooohing and aahhing over this little child. I'm such a lucky girl, what an amazing blessing.

They say each pregnancy and baby are different....

....and this little guy is proving that he's going to make his mark on this world. Either he's the most mellow baby in the world, or he's already trying his hand at testing his mother's patience!

It's hard to be such a planner and to have zero control or predictability about going into labor and delivering a baby. Given that Morgan was 10 days early and Bennett 7 days early, I never thought I'd be sitting here a day before my due date wondering how an induction is going to go. But so goes life and I suppose it's all part of my journey as a mother.

I suppose it would not be as disappointing or tiring if I hadn't been having real contractions for two weeks now. Last night was the straw that broke the camel's back, however. At 2:30 in the morning, the contractions were so reminiscent of previous labors that I thought for sure that this little stinker decided to pave his own way two days before the scheduled induction. I was in pain for a couple of hours and then it stopped just as quickly as it had started. This has pretty much been the way things have gone for the past few weeks. Totally frustrating and always leaving me disappointed as I inevitably had started thinking about how it's going to be to feel this baby in my arms and smell his sweet baby's breath. 

Patience is certainly no virtue of mine, but at least I know that this is all coming to and end (or is it a beginning?) tomorrow as I go in for my scheduled induction. It's a good thing too, as the kids are getting antsy about meeting their little brother. Every night for the past week or so, Morgan has said goodnight to me, "see you in the morning, if not sooner!" and anxiously awaits news of a baby during each day.

I'm extremely nervous about being induced, as I've never before experienced anything remotely close to an induction. Never had to have anything stripped, never had to have pitocin, etc. I just keep praying that all the contractions I've been having have progressed my further than the 1cm I was dialated a week ago and that all I need is a subtle push to get things really going. For real this time.

Can't wait to meet the final member of our family tomorrow. I wonder who he's going to look like and what his temperament is going to be like. They say that each child is different...

I got called out

The Internet people found me. And they worried about me. Wow, what a gentle nudge I needed to get back to something I love, blogging. It's become so hard to find time for myself these days. Heck, even at 8 months pregnant, it's hard for me to find the time while at work to simply go to the restroom or eat lunch. So goes the world of a working mom, especially one in a new role with a new team at work. On the weekends, we are spending time at soccer, working on the house, birthday parties and more.

Lance has been great, however, providing me with as much time as I need to put my swollen feet up and relax while he takes care of the other things at home like dinner and getting the kids to bed. When I found a photography class I wanted to take about two months ago, he really encouraged me to take it, knowing how much I would love it and how it would bring back a little piece of me.

Well, the photography class ended last week. But maybe my random poke from the Internet people is a good enough reason to continue to carve out a little bit of time for me. After all, in about a month, it's going to be all about a newborn baby boy. Might as well continue trying to carve out time for myself amidst all the chaos.

Heck, seeing as how it's the start of Lent today, it may even be a good thing to commit to. Or is that crazy?