Happy Half-Birthday, little man!!!

Our little guy is growing up! Harrison is 6 months old, as of yesterday. After a rocky start, he's turned into the sweetest, happiest little guy. He's got a big smile and even bigger thighs. Love that!! Happy half-birthday, little man. Here's to many more!!!

He's got his father's eyes and his mother's gag reflex

Poor Brice. He wanted to help feed Harry, and we wanted to encourage any non-violent gesture on his part. I handed him the spoon and just as he gently laid the spoon in Harry's mouth, his eyes started to water and those all too familiar pre-barf convulsions started. Seth cleaned him up and he came over and wanted another try. (Why we allowed this, I still cannot tell you.) He didn't even make it to Harry's mouth this time. He walked over to Harry and immediately threw up. In one of my "mother of the year" moments, I shoved Brice back so he actually fell on his bottom while throwing up. (To stop him from throwing up on Harry's face; hey, I had to make a "which is worse?" decision quickly!!) After Seth cleaned him up, we still weren't sure what the trigger was, so we just handed him the bowl of completely non-offensive oatmeal. Bingo. Brice immediately started gagging. Poor kid!! He's a kindred soul!! I heaved and gagged my way through the first 9 months of diapering Brice. Now, we have to try and keep Brice occupied when I feed Harry, as he'll started gagging if he even sees Harry in the high chair. Hopefully this is just a phase (but probably not).

I'm tired.

So very very tired. I'm tired of Seth working 60+ hours week after week after week. I cannot remember the last time he came home before the kids went down. I'm tired of not eating together. I'm tired of having to share him with his office at least part, and usually a large part, of every weekend. I'm tired of Brice. I'm tired of fighting with him. I'm tired of him hitting and scratching and biting and throwing a tantrum all day. I'm tired of him screaming when he gets disciplined. or when I hold Harry. or when I say no. or just to get attention. i'm tired of not being able to go outside without carrying two children down the stairs. i'm tired of not being able to go outside without at least one of them screaming on the way down, and both of them screaming by the time we all get in the car or get the stroller set up. i'm tired of carrying two children UP the stairs while Brice throws a tantrum. i'm tired of doing everything by myself. i'm tired of going to bed by myself. i'm tired of wondering when all this will end and there will be peace and balance in our house again. i'm tired of not sleeping through the night. i'm tired of dreading the sound of waking children in the morning. i'm tired of hearing, "baby, i really need to get into work early in the morning." i'm tired of being tired. i'm tired of not being able to hang out with my friends. or go to church. or go to housegroup. or being able to relax with a book. i'm tired of not feeling like myself. i miss me. and God. and Seth.

Oh no she didn't!!!

Today I took Brice and Harry to Fantasy Kingdom, an indoor play area in Chicago. They have lots of toys, dress up areas, trains, play cars, etc. And they have slides. Two pretty big ones. And you have to climb up a castle to get there. Brice, of course, was fascinated. He's a bit new to the whole slide thing. He's gone down the one at the park a few times. But usually Seth is at the top to help him, and i'm waiting at the bottom so he doesn't go flying off and smash his head on the ground. Today Brice climbed to the top of the castle by himself (well done, son). I figured since I could only be in one place at a time, I should be at the bottom. Well, I got down there and Brice was peeking his head down at me and giggling. A little scared to take the plunge, I think. He did this for about 30 seconds, then I heard a girl say "Go!!" and she shoved him down the slide. The poor kid came careening down the slide in ball, since he'd been crouching at the top when this pig-tailed monster set him flying. Thankfully I was at the bottom to catch him, but he still smacked his forehead on the slide. 

I cannot fully describe the anger and rage that rose up in me at this little girl. I was FURIOUS. I yelled at her up the slide and a couple mothers came running to see if it was their daughter. Shockingly, her mother wasn't one of the ones who came to see if it was her daughter. Big surprise. I know I should hold it together better. I know she's just a kid, too. But it's more than anger at badly-behaved children. It's a desire/compulsion to protect Brice from the harshness and cruelty of other children. I know I can't do this forever. And I shouldn't. I should be there to hug him after he falls, not to make sure he never falls. But as yet it's just been him and me. He's just getting to that age when kids are going to start ripping things out of his hand, shove him over, be mean, etc. We're considering signing him up for preschool a couple mornings a week. And it's this issue that's giving me pause. I'm afraid. Afraid of him smiling at a kid and the kid sneering back at him. Afraid of him playing with something only to have it ripped out of his hand. I want to protect him from that. I want to protect him from that far more than I want to protect him from falling or getting sick or, whatever. I'd much rather he breaks a leg playing with a friend than gets his spirit broken while playing with a "friend." Dang. This is when it gets hard, isn't it? It's exhausting to chase him around and make sure he doesn't get hurt here. But it's crushing to let him go and trust God to care for him in all the ways I can't.

What to do, what to do...

Here is my dilemma, one faced by pretty much every other parent, I think: what do you do when you have a new(ish) baby who is napping twice a day and a toddler who naps once a day?? Now that the baby is becoming somewhat regular, they tag team their naps and it isn't until 4 or even 5pm that they both are done napping. So, does the baby get robbed of his two naps in order to just roll with the toddler schedule, or do you honor the baby's need to sleep and you and the toddler are stuck in the small, second floor condo all the livelong day? The weather in Chicago is turning brutish so it's not great weather to go out in anyway, but it'd be nice to have the option. So, parents of two little ones, or parents of one who have a second coming (that's you Mike!), what do you do???

The Christmas card picture that wasn't

Last year when I sent out our Christmas card, Seth commented that it looked like we were getting divorced. There were no pictures of us all together. So this year when I was looking for a family picture, I realized that again we had managed to avoid the family picture. This is in large part due to the fact I have not had clean hair AND been wearing make up in the 5 months since Harrison was born. So, this past Sunday we made sure everyone was clean and dressed (no small feat, yo!) and we tried to get the picture that would land on the Christmas card. We didn't get it.

First of all, let me just say it's not so easy to take a self-portrait and get everyone centered. Look at Brice--can you tell the TV is on??

Brice was trying to get away and I think Seth was lying on Harry's arm. Poor kid.

Why am I the only one smiling? I think Brice is, but he didn't manage to get his whole face in the picture.

I love the expression on Harry's face. I was tempted to use this shot.

So, maybe next year we'll get it together.

Hey Mikey, it worked!!!

Well wonders never cease. I gave him a time out and he sat there. And hated it. It was beautiful. I received some great advice from you parents of toddlers and decided to give this whole "time out" thing a couple more tries. No more time outs in his toy/book-stuffed room. And i'm not yet doing the "1-2-3" pre-time out warning. I'm trying not to jump the gun or be harsh, but when he's doing stuff he KNOWS is wrong (screaming, hitting, throwing food/toys/tantrums) i'll calmly say, "you need a time out" and set him on an adult chair. I was a bit worried that he'd fall off and break his neck, but so far he's not nose-dived or tried to escape. The first time I did this, I sat him on the chair and turned around. When I got to the kitchen, he was still sitting on it, looking at me with a worried expression. I about fell over. I fully expected him to jump off and throw himself into a full-blown tantrum. But he just sat there. Then he protested and made the sign for "help me." When I ignored that he went into full-on charm mode. Looked at me and gave me his biggest smile, then erupted into hysterical laughter. I remain stonefaced (serious willpower). He then threw his head back and howled. At that point the kitchen timer went off and I pulled him down. Amazing.

The kids and the folks

Harry checking out the exersaucer (while wearing Brice's fancy hat).

Harry playing around with Seth.

The boys trying to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep.

Brice and Gramma Pat reading the "ho ho ho" book.

Brice and papa watching Blue's Clues. or football.

1-2-3 (not so) Magic

In our never-ending search for the perfect book on discipline, I picked up a copy of 1-2-3 Magic. The basic premise (which both Seth and I had previously disdained) was that when your kid is acting obnoxious you "count them." Give them 3 chances to behave, then give them a time-out. So, when Brice was throwing his food, I counted him. I said "one" and he smiled and held up his finger (he just learned he is one year old). When I said "two" he sort of looked at me wearily and threw his orange piece. So I said "three, time out!". He stuck two goldfish in his mouth, held up his hands so I could clean them, then I cleaned him off and took him to his room (which the book suggests). I set him down in his room and he ran to his toys. I called after him, "this is your time out for throwing your food. I'll come get you in two minutes." I came back and opened the door and he smiled at me and handed me two books. Oh yeah, this time out thing is totally going to work. I think we'll have to rethink this.

You mothers of toddlers--what do you do to discipline your kids???

WAC and me

WAC is the abbreviation for West Loop Athletic Club. I have a love/hate relationship with this gym. I love that it has excellent childcare. I hate to exercise. They have no coffee bar or massage parlor on site, so I am forced to pretend to exercise. Luckily, they have those fancy treadmills with cable tv attached to them. I can walk at a snail's pace AND watch E! True Hollywood Story. Love that. Then, if they're not hunting me down, telling me that Harry needs to feed (just b/c he's raging does not mean he's hungry. But try telling that to frazzled, underpaid childcare providers), I slip back in the locker room for a shower. A real shower!!!! I don't think I "work out" often or hard enough to actually burn any calories, but I continue to go. The real workout is getting the kids dressed, down the stairs, into the car, then back. I swear I burn ten times as many calories doing this part. But I love walking into a place that smells like chlorine, greeted by people who pretend to know me and are glad to see me. I then drop the kiddos off and callously turn on my heels while they wail and protest and pretend to miss me. Who would have thought having children would force me to consider "working out" to be "me time"? Doesn't matter. All I know is that I get to go the bathroom without negotiating who gets to flush and how many times, and I get to shower without straining to hear who's crying. Oh, and I get to hear about how Mary Kate and Ashley were bazillionaires by the time they were ten. Good stuff.

What just happened???

A while back, I blogged about how Harry was becoming a big boy--no more crying, sleeping in his pack and play, etc. Let me now amend my praise. Apparently we messed with something we shouldn't have by putting Harry on his back to sleep, instead of in his carseat. He has not slept through the night since. He started sleeping through the night at 4 weeks. First 8 hours, then 10, then 11. Then we put him in his pack and play. He started getting up once, then twice, sometimes three times. Those were the good days. Now he goes down around 7pm, sleeps for 3 hours, then gets up to feed. Then he wakes up every hour and half until 6 or 7am. What happened??? I know these aren't all hunger feeds, and we should probably let him CIO. The problem with that is that he sleeps in our bathroom. We'd be up all night. Not that we're not already. But at least we get some sleep. Harry can't go in Brice's room until he sleeps through the night, but at this point, when will that be????

Fun with Photo Booth

Where's your nose??

Where are your eyes??

Where are your ears??

Where's your tongue??

Say taco!! (his new favorite word)

I have seen the enemy

And he is red. And ticklish. That's right, it's Elmo. My child is addicted to Elmo.
It all started innocently enough--a shirt with Elmo on it; a Sesame Street book. Then I made the fatal mistake--I rented an Elmo video. I might as well have fed him crack. I just figured I could let him watch a short video during the time I got Harry up and changed and fed. Makes sense, right? But it backfired on me. I thought it would give me a little peace and quiet and keep Brice busy so he wouldn't feel ignored and jealous. But the child wants to watch Elmo ALL THE TIME now. "Elmo, Elmo, Elmo, Elmo." He doesn't say "mama" or "dada," but he says "Elmo."
So, this past week we decided to just go cold turkey. We put away the video and have not played it once. He stills asks for him all day long. He occasionally throws tantrums and cries and yells out for him. He brings me the remote and points to the TV. Poor kid. I really thought I could let him watch a little bit and that would satisfy him. Who knew?

We saw it coming

This afternoon we put the boys down for a nap. Harry sleeping? Check! Brice? Not so much. He was talking and yelling and jumping up and down, but Seth ignored his pleas and hopped in the shower. I took off on errands. After Seth got out, he peeked in Brice's room and saw a flash of movement as Brice dove into the corner of his crib to pretend he was sleeping. That's not so unusual. What Seth saw when he leaned in was: Brice was naked from the waist down.
Uh-Oh
Seth quickly prioritized while assessing the situation. There can be only one reason Brice would disrobe. That's right. A #2. Seth got Brice up, re-diapered him, put him in a zip up onesie then pulled the crib away from the wall to find missing diaper and pj bottoms. Seems Brice took off his diaper and bottom and shoved them under his bumper and against the wall. Mercifully, he's been having little pellet, rabbit-like poos. So, it wasn't too difficult or disgusting to clean up. But still, it's kinda foul, don't you think?

Oh, the marathon!!!

I love love love the Chicago marathon. I'm not a runner, but there is nothing more moving to me than watching people run a marathon. I started going years back when my friend Rhessa ran her first. I got up early, took the el downtown, got a venti something or other from Starbucks, and elbowed my way to the fence near the finish line. Then I stood there and cried for two hours. I thought I was going to cheer her on, which I did. But I wasn't at all prepared for the emotion that swept over me--again and again--as I watched people run the last stretch of the marathon. Runners were laughing, crying, walking, limping. Even falling down. And then someone else, who didn't appear to know them, would stop running, give up their time, and help the person up, then accompany them to the finish line. I know i'm sentimental, but does it get any better than that?
This past Sunday was the marathon. The halfway point was half a block from our place, so we loaded up the boys and headed over. There were (before these pics were taken) tons of folks lined up, cheering, holding signs, ringing cow bells (love that). The cops that were there to provide security were clapping and yelling and cheering everyone on. Seth and I stood and watched and yelled. Brice clapped and waved and even got to give a high five to one of the runners. Harry was calm and happy and sucked on the Bjorn for an hour. Everytime I watch a marathon, I always entertain the thought of running, say, a 5k. Maybe this will be the year!!

Colic (and family) Update

I think it's over. I really do. It's been lessening the past week and haven't had any raging for the past few days. Ahhh.... AND, he's no longer sleeping in his carseat. He's a big boy now, sleeping in his pack and play (inside his changing pad; keeps him cozy). He's still swaddled, but that's not a big deal. We can even put him down drowsy and he'll fall asleep. This may not seem like a big deal, but believe me. It is. Today, he's napping on a schedule. Wow.
I originally started this blog thinking it would be primarily a place to keep family updated on the boys. And it is. But I also thought i'd write about what was going on with ME and SETH. What we were doing, thinking, eating, reading. It's not that i've not had the time, it's that we've not done anything for the past four months. We've gone out to eat once without the boys (thanks Christa!!). I've not read a single book. I've cooked, like, three meals. I've cried 5 out of 7 days a week. We've not been back to housegroup yet. We have started back to church. But that's it, really. If we'd known how HARD this would have been, and we could have gotten a guarantee we'd still have Harry, we would have waited to have the second. Brice is a strong-willed child who did not take well to sharing me. We've been negotiating tantrums, flailing about trying to discipline him in ways that would not break his spirit, all while listening to Harry rage in the background. It's been a hard four months. But I think things are turning. I do. I feel it. Brice isn't changing; he's becoming harder, in fact. But I have more energy for him now. More patience. And Harry is getting so much easier (and quieter!!). I think we made it.

CIO, baby, CIO

If you know what CIO means, you feel my pain. CIO is short hand for "cry it out" a much maligned version of sleep training--you know, when you teach your baby to fall asleep without being fed, bounced, rocked, etc. Basically, you get the child all gussied up for bed, fed, kissed and then set him down and wave good bye. I've heard parents say that this version rips their hearts out. I suggest they move further away from the door. Kidding. But seriously. We waited until Brice was four months old to start with him and he took to it like a dream. He slept in his bassinet instead of his carseat. A few days of crying and he was out. He was on a regular schedule immediately, didn't need to be swaddled; he turned into a dream child. It also coincided with his colic ending. Needless to say, the sun rose on my world right around four months.
We are nearing the four month mark with Harry. I planned on waiting until four months to start sleep training, but I sense i'll be moving it up. Mainly b/c my back cannot take the endless bending over, picking up the car seat, bouncing the car seat, bending over to swaddle, etc. I've been trying to get him to sleep for the past two hours. Four times i've had to go in, get him, feed him, rewrap him, bounce him, and do it again. Oi!!! So he started screaming AGAIN and I left him. I just let him cry. There must be a reason they don't have memories that go this far back. And miraculously, he fell asleep. This is good. Naps are the hardest to manage. Oh, this is good. I'll keep you posted. But for now, my new mantra is: CIO baby!! ( mommy loves you)

Major 'tude

The boy has always been strong-willed. I knew that within the first few weeks. But lately, he's developing a bit of a 'tude. And temper. Oh my gosh. It's hard to capture in words, but, oh, what the heck. I'll give it a shot. Ornery. Foul. Vindictive. You can't even look sideways at the kid without getting a nasty scowl from him, and usually he'll reach out and swat you just to get his point across. Charming. It'd be kind of funny if it wasn't so exhausting and maddening. We're disciplining him only to stay in the game. We've given up on the idea that it will actually change his behavior. Disciplining him just ticks him off and makes him up his game. It doesn't actually change his behavior. Brice entered the terrible twos around 11 months. I remember trying to redirect him and he scowled at me and tried to hit me. I called my mom and asked if it was too early for him to have a temper and she just laughed. Great. I hear things start to even out around three years old. So, we're halfway to normal. Wish us luck!!

Smiling and sitting up (sorta)

The Pink Streak

Today, after I cleaned Brice up from lunch (no small feat), I set him on the floor in only his cow diaper and let him roam free while I did the dishes. He popped behind the couch for a second, but that didn't raise any red flags. I just figured he was taking care of business and I wanted to give him a little privacy. No less than 30 seconds later, I hear him laughing hysterically and turn around in time to see a little pink streak fly through the kitchen, bounce off the wall and run down the hallway. I ran after him and saw his little pink tush and in his hand? His cow diaper. Uh-oh. What to do? The majority of his diapers are velcro and all disposables are velcro. I have 5 diapers with snaps. This is not good. I thanked my lucky stars the diaper was only a, shall we say, #1 diaper. But what happens if he gets out of #2 diapers? What then? I'm beginning to understand why old cloth diapers had pins.
[side note: this is an old pic of Brice; just used it to show the aforementioned cow diaper]

Train don't run outta Witchita...

In homage to one of my favourite lines from one of my favourite movies, I shall blog that my husband is gone tonight. His first night away, abandoning me with the two rotten children he has saddled me with (just kidding; and apologies for the poor grammar), he is, as the title suggests, in Witchita (no idea of the correct spelling and who really cares, anyway?). So, perhaps the trains don't run outta Witchita, but apparently the planes do. The boyz and I managed to make it through the evening, each throwing a tantrum of their own, but I survived. My trusty friend/sitter Heather came over to help man the ship and she danced with Brice and kept him generally entertained. I took Harry to Target to get a new mop and learned how fast you could empty an aisle when you had a SCREAMING infant with you (less than 1.5 minutes). Harry took his first non-raging bath tonight. Lovely. Now I am dead tired and thinking of turning in to face the morning. I bought a new NYT crossword puzzle book that i'm tempted to crack, though. I think I will. I know i'll hit a wall (what's up with the Peer Gynt clue that's in almost every NYT puzzle?) and throw my pen across the room within 15 minutes, so what the heck... Ok, here goes the first night alone. Me, Brice, Harry, and Will Shortz...

Anything for a good night's sleep...

This picture would, I think we can safely assume, give any good pediatrician (or mother) a heart attack. How many times did I hear "make sure you don't put any blankets or pillows in the crib. And if you have a bumper, make sure it's thin and breathable." This is a testament to the lengths you will go to make sure your child/YOU get a good night's sleep.
Seth took Brice to IN to go to his grandmother's funeral. They stayed in a hotel that was nice enough to provide a crib. No bumper though. This is a major issue for us, as Brice LOVES his bumper. I know it's a no-no, but the child sleeps all tucked into the corner, usually his face pressed into the bumper. I check him before I go to bed and he's always breathing. Is it a problem when they're this old? I don't know. But this picture made me chuckle when I saw it. Good lord!! I'm sure Brice was in heaven, and Seth was doing the best he could. But don't you think this is going just a wee bit too far? I don't think the AAP would approve.

Guess who dressed Brice this morning??

Yummy!!!

I don't like babies

Or toddlers too much. At least, not at the moment. I suppose this qualifies me for world's worst mother. I fear my attitude is due to having two colicky babies. Honestly, what did I do to deserve this? I see moms with little babies and they're cooing at each other, and I think, "why couldn't that be me?" I feel a bit ripped off. With Brice, he spent the first four months bellowing and it was all I could do to get through the day. He slept like a champ at night, but he screamed all the livelong day. Everyone told me I would have a calm baby, as no one has TWO colicky babies. Well, I did, it appears. And now I have a high-maintenance toddler who's not taking too well to the new little guy. Or, maybe he's not taking well to the fact he has to share me. But I can't even pick up the kid without him biting me or pinching me. Sometimes all I have to do is walk past him to set him off. He hates it when I feed Harry and tries to hit him or throw books at him. And if I put Harry down and try and pay attention to Brice, Harry rages. Oh, Harry doesn't nap either. Don't get me started on what mealtimes are like around here. It's not pretty, i'll leave it at that.

I know I should be grateful to have two healthy boys, and if you catch me at a quiet moment I would probably agree. But right now, I don't like babies. Or toddlers.

Millennium Park with the boys

I'm exhausted

And it's only noon. Ouch. My son, my lovely son Brice, is taking me precariously close to the edge. Have I mentioned he is strong-willed? We have yet to feed him without him throwing his food on the floor. And he waits for us to look at him, then he smiles, and throws it. We say, "Brice, do NOT throw your food." Pick it up, wipe the floor, give him the benefit of the doubt. Then, he's angry because we said no to him. So he opens his mouth, pulls the chewed but not swallowed food out, and tosses it. Then he looks at me and smiles. So I say "no" again and give him a flick on the hand. Which REALLY ticks him off, so he starts screaming and banging his head back against the high chair and THROWS his sippy cup across the kitchen. Nice. He also hits and pinches Harry when i'm trying to feed him among a myriad other minor and major infractions. And nothing, NOTHING will deter him. I'm reading every discipline book I can get my hands on and they're so helpful--flick his hand, don't flick his hand because that is how he explores his world, spank him, don't spank him--you'll teach him violence is okay; give him a time-out, don't bother with time-outs, etc. Do you get the picture? 

I keep reminding myself that he is one. Not even one and half. I will not be beaten by a little midget who can't even control his bladder. It's like I used to tell my first-graders, "There are sitcoms that have been around longer than you. You don't run anything but your mouth and that's going to stop, too." Not that Brice can even talk yet. Oh, infant is now screaming, must attend to infant. 

Recall

I take it back. He's still colicky. Going on 4 hours now. What's it like to have calm children??

Brice and his Blue Bunny

Brice now sleeps with a stuffed animal, his little Blue Bunny. It kills me. I love that he sleeps with him. Lately we've been having major battles with our increasingly strong-willed child. He drains the energy from my bones and by the end of the day, i'm done. Put a fork in me. But the fact that my little tantrum-throwing, face-pinching, arm-biting, leg-kicking, foot-stomping, screaming baby goes to bed with his little Blue Bunny gives me hope that his heart isn't entirely black. Perhaps there's hope for him yet. 

Colic? What colic???

Okay, I say this with some hesitation. It does appear, after a week of probiotics, that the colic has waned. He still has his fussy times, usually between 5 and 7pm, but he's mostly fussy. He can be soothed with a pacifier and a bounce. Sometimes being picked up and carried around is required, but he really has improved. He rages a bit before he falls off to sleep, but he really is much better. Seth made a comment yesterday that perhaps we shouldn't call him colicky anymore (we like to label our children) and we both kinda looked at each other nervously. Dare we hope?? So, i'll just say, he's doing better. Sleeping better--8.5 hours last night! and napping two or three times during the day. Amazing. He even sleeps through Brice. Now that is a feat.

Visit to the grandparents (and great grandmother!)

Harry and great grandma Ruth 

Splashing around with dad

First ride on the merry go round

Zonked out in the car (didn't last long, though!)

Not bad, baby!

Lest you think my child does nothing but scream, here's an update--he sleeps too!! Eight hours!! Yes, for two nights in a row, he's been sleeping for eight hours, from 11:00 to 7:00. Hallelujah! This could be because he spends the previous 3 or 4 hours raging. Not crying. Raging. Each night I go to sleep in tears, nerves ripped apart and I wake up...rested. Incredible. We've given  him two doses of probiotics so far, and we'll see if it helps at all. 

Brice remains very interested in this new intruder, though still not at all sure what to do with him. The past weekend he tried to pick him up. Squatted down and shoved his little paws underneath him and when that didn't work, he grabbed his arm and pulled him (he was being closely supervised whilst doing this, in case you're cursing my parenting skills). He also likes to try and shove the pacifier in his mouth when he's crying. It's sort of sweet. I look forward to the day when they can actually interact and play.

The Verdict

Definitely colic. But sort of textbook colic. He's been doing okay during the day and raging at night. Not every night, but if the definition is at least three hours a day, at least three days a week, at least three weeks (don't know about that, yet), our boy's in. It's the kind of screaming that'll blow your eardrums. Seth and I were one foot from each other's face and we could not hear each other talk. Honestly. It was THAT loud. Geez!! 

So, I read online that there was a new study that seemed to prove/strongly suggest that probiotics (one, in particular) can ameliorate most colic. Babies in the study went (after a month) from crying over 3 hours a day to crying a little under an hour. I could handle that!! So, we've ordered a month's supply. I'll let you know.

Colic Watch, Week 3, Day 4

I think I spoke too soon. It does appear that this child, also, is colicky. The crying started about 36 hours ago. And when I say "crying" I mean "raging." Maybe some of this is normal? I just have no idea what "normal" is--Brice did not prepare me for normal. It's crying for no known reason--fed, changed, held--what else? We even bought a fancy carrier so I could wear him and apparently he hates that too. What gives? But more important, how do you survive with a very demanding 17 month old (who still can't talk!!) and a colicky newborn? Bueller???

Colic Watch, Week 3, Day 3

Still good, I think. He has the occasional crying jag--almost always related to getting his diaper changed. Can't say that I blame him. Four days to go until we can all relax. 

Our first family outing

Our first family outing--to Dunkin' Donuts and Baskin Robbins. This is before we had our double stroller all fixed up. 
We didn't actually give Brice his own cup of ice cream. The nice thing about this age is that he is just as happy to play with a spoon and the last dregs of melted ice cream. Works for us!!
We asked the clerk to take our first family picture. Apparently she didn't know how to zoom with our camera. Oh well. I was having a bad hair day (month), so it's just as well. 

What were we thinking???

When we told my mother we were pregnant with boy #2, she looked at us and said, "congratulations. you're insane." I sort of knew what she was talking about, but how could I really know what she was talking about? (and why didn't she elaborate??) So here we are now with two boys under 18 months (under 17 months, to be precise) and we're now asking ourselves, "what were we thinking?" 

Take tonight, for example. We decided it would be fun to go to Chinatown for dinner. We're trying to get out more as a family--figure out how to do it. So, at 4:45 we make the decision. At 5:30 we meet at the back door. That's right--it took 45 minutes to even get out the door with TWO OF US. Between feeding Harry, changing both boys, socks and shoes, packing a purse, loading Harry into a carseat (no small feat), we were finally ready to head out. We make it down all the stairs, to the car, only to realize we now own the two biggest car seats on the market. And to install them right next to each other, which we have to do by law, is just asking for trouble. First of all, it's almost impossible to get the infant seat in, as it's installed too close to the toddler seat. Then, I had to ride in back to keep Brice from torturing Harry (all in the name of curiosity, I can only assume). Something I won't be able to do when it's just me.

We finally make it to Chinatown, and had a lovely dinner. We let Brice run free for a while in the open area and he charmed the locals while Seth ran after him and tried to keep him from running into stores, climbing the open staircase, eating ice cream off the ground and more mundane dangers.

Once we got home, I began to panic. Honestly, how am I supposed to do this? How can I get Brice and Harry (in his carseat, thus tripling his weight) out of the car/stroller and in the condo and up the (many) stairs. Brice immediately takes off once he's on the ground. I'm getting a headache just writing about this. I have to keep telling myself these times are precious and they'll be gone all too soon. I know it's true. I know i'll miss this (and every) stage. 

Colic Watch, Week 3, Day 1

Colic scares the daylights out of me. Brice was colicky for four months and I remember that time as just one of darkness. He cried and fussed ALL THE TIME. There were two hours each day when I could count on him to be pleasant. They were the two hours after he got up, before he would go down for his morning nap. It hit around 3 weeks. Actually, it really reared its head the day before Seth headed back to work, of course. Technically, colic is defined as at least 3 hours a day of crying or fussing, at least 3 days a week, lasting at least 3 weeks. That sounds like vacation to me!! Brice cried and fussed about 9 hours a day, every single day, for four months straight. I mean, to the day. 

So, for nine months, I have hoped and prayed that this child would be easy. Each time the dr. took his heartbeat, it would be in the lowest possible range. "You have the chillest baby in there," she would say to me. I crossed my fingers and prayed it was true. And here we are, entering the third week. Colic usually begins the second or third week. So far, so good. Up until now, he's only cried when he was hungry, or when he filled his shorts. He's sleeping for about 3 hours at a time. He likes to be swaddled. He's actually kind of a dream so far. But I can't relax. Not until we pass the three week mark. So it begins: Week 3, Day 1. 

Our sweet baby boy

After much waiting, our newest little guy, Harrison Franklin Essex Diehl, made his official debut. I had waited, trying to avoid induction, for labor to begin naturally (although I wasn't too keen on labor actually finishing naturally!!). My prayers were answered and labor began Monday morning. We went to Prentice in the afternoon and shortly thereafter, Harry was born. Some people get epidurals and feel no pain for the entire labor and delivery, but this doesn't seem to be the case with me. However, Harry came out in the correct position and labor and delivery were mercifully short. He looks alot like his big brother, with a thick mop of black hair and a lower lip that is perpetually sucked in. He out-bruiser-ed his brother though, and came out at 8 pounds, 15 ounces and was 22 inches long. Welcome to the world, little Harry. We're so glad you're here.

In Labor!

So, this is a cheesy shot, but I look like an ax murderer in the rest of them. Anyhoo, this is us sort of en route to the hospital. We'll keep you posted.