A day in the life of the sling-less

This is a continuation of the previous post, since I didn’t post for two weeks.

I lost my sling last weekend, my beautiful wonderful sling that I carry Isaiah around in all the time. I left it in a coffee shop, and they threw it away because they thought it was just a giant piece of fabric. I almost cried when I found out. It has been so hard to do anything since he's used to being carried around all the time in it. I've only been able to do things that need only one arm at a time. I had to go grocery shopping with out it, and I actually had to call my mom and ask her how to shop without a sling. It was rather embarrassing. Luckily, Isaiah is incredibly mellow, so I just put a bunch of soft blankets in the seat of the grocery cart that older kids usually sit in and propped him up in that. It worked out alright, but I miss my sling. A lot. I'm pretty surprised with myself, though, because even without the sling, I made two cheesecakes and got our closets cleaned out and several boxes packed and did normal housework. I just did it all very, very slowly.

Michael and I were going to get a new one from the same place as the old one - Kari-me.com. It's a European site, so the price was in euros, and 37 euros didn't sound that bad. Just to be sure, though, we double checked with a currency exchange site and found out that meant $69. We were shocked - it's just a piece of fabric. Luckily, we found the same thing from a place in California - mobywrap.com, and it was half that price. Again, it's just a piece of fabric, so it might seem like we're overpaying, but it's an amazing thing. Honestly, it's like I'm buying third arm for myself.

This week has been pretty crazy on the home front. Michael is working feverishly to get everything prepared for his portfolio show. (If you want to find out more about his show or see some of his work, go to www.2006manifesto.com) I've been trying to take Isaiah out somewhere every day in order to keep distractions to a minimum. Tomorrow, Isaiah and I are going to visit the arboretum with Grandma Walz. I'm excited to spend some more time with her. We have also been taking a lot of walks in this beautiful weather. We took a 2 hour walk the other night, which was twice as long as it should have been because I took a funny turn and got lost. We ended up in a beautiful park somewhere in north Minneapolis, though, and Isaiah had a good time and got lots of fresh air.

Isaiah has started batting at objects now, which is fun to see. We'll prop him up in front of his Old McDonald Farm, which has toys that hang down and swing around in time to music, and he'll bat his little hands at the swinging animals to make them rattle. He also "talks" to them, which is fun to hear. Michael and I are able to carry on pretty good conversations with him now that go something like this:
"So Isaiah, what did you do today?"
(silence and quizzical looks from Isaiah)
"Did you eat lots of milk and pee a bunch of times today?"
"Aaagh, aagh wa aagh."
"Oh, I see, you burped lots of times too."
"Huh aaagh huh uh eeee."

Isaiah has also begun to drool excessively. In fact, I thought that he might be teething incredibly early because he leaves puddles of drool all around. I think, though, that it's just because he's smiling a bunch and talking more, so his mouth is open more often and drool just comes out as a consequence. Whatever the reason, though, I now have wet spots all over my shirt where Isaiah dribbles on me, and he has to wear a bib on top of his outfits all the time. He's cutest bald, chubby, toothless, drooly, bib and diaper wearing little guy I've ever seen.

Happy Easter

Oops - it's been more than two weeks instead of one since I've posted about Isaiah. I have a wonderful excuse, though - I'm the mother of a little baby. I will try to be better, though, because so much happens every single week with him, and I don't want to miss sharing and recording any of it. I'll make two posts today to make up for it.

Actually, I'm finding that I am able to get more and more done these days even with Isaiah taking up 90% of my attention. Now that he's nearly 3 months old (I can't believe it's been that long,) I've found that he can entertain himself for short - very short - periods of time, and he's also become interested in watching me as I do somewhat productive things around the house. That is, he interested in watching me as long as I constantly sing songs and make silly faces at him and make sure his pacifier is firmly wedged into him little mouth at all times.

Over Easter weekend, my family came out from Rapid City, SD to see us. That meant that my grandparents, my dad, and my brother finally got to meet Isaiah. They, of course, all immediately fell in love with him. Between my family and Michael's family, Isaiah wasn't set down for a single moment the entire weekend. He loved it. It was especially fun to see how my grandfather interacted with Isaiah. My grandpa is usually a gruff guy, and he is sometimes rather negative. But when he held Isaiah, all he could do was say what a wonderful, mellow little baby he was, and he just melted into a happy great-grandfather puddle every time he jiggled Isaiah on his knee. We also discovered that Great-grandpa is an expert knee jiggler, and he did a wonderful job of calming Isaiah when he was tense.

My dad also had a lot of fun with Isaiah. He would walk around with him, talk to him, and spend time with him looking at the bubbles in the fish tank (which were much more interesting than the fish in the fish tank to Isaiah.) Isaiah also responded very well to Dad, and we have a host of pictures of Isaiah smiling in Dad's arms. I think Isaiah appreciated how soft and mellow my Dad is, and I'm sure he'll have a good relationship with his grandpa as he gets older. My brother, Andy, was a little nervous at first, I think. I'm sure he just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt Isaiah or make him cry, since Andy really hasn't been around babies that much at all. By the end, though, he was making Isaiah very happy by lifting him up in the air and making airplane noises, just like Michael does. My mom, of course, spent as much time with him as she could, and she got in a pretty fair amount of cuddling and kissing. She was amazed at how much he had grown and how alert he had become since she last saw him when he was only 2 weeks old. I have to agree - Isaiah changes every single day, and I am constantly amazed. Sometimes I silently wish that he would slow down so that I have more time to enjoy every little stage, but at the same time, I'm so excited to see what he's going to do next.

On Easter Sunday, Isaiah was dedicated at our church, which was a wonderful experience. He was dedicated along with two other baby boys - another little Isaiah and a little Titus Will. Michael's family came in so that we all could dedicate Isaiah together. Our pastor prayed for Isaiah and asked us to take the responsibility to be a model of God's love for him and lead him to a place where he would be able to know God and hopefully accept him into his heart. It was so wonderful to do that publicly, in front of our church and family, because my prayer for Isaiah has constantly been that he would come to know Jesus and accept him into his life. More than anything else I can pass onto him, I want Isaiah to have the joy and peace that I have from my relationship with Christ, and I desperately want Isaiah to glorify God with his life. On a less important note - Isaiah was wearing a super cute sweater vest and our camcorder ran out of battery just as the dedication started. Oh well, though.

I'll put up another post with the rest of the goings-on from these last two weeks so that neither of them gets too lengthy.

Monkey Sounds

Isaiah has begun making an entire symphony of sounds now, expanding from his former repertoire of cries and sighs. He coos, gurgles, shouts, grunts, makes an exclamation that sounds like "Yea!" and makes monkey-like sounds. I think he's also figured out how to make different cries for different occasions. (Or I have only recently become competent enough to differentiate between them.) My favorite new noise that he makes, though, is his "belly laugh." He isn't full-out laughing yet, but he does these belly chuckles when he gets really happy that absolutely crack me up. It's a kind of 'huh-huh' sound that a cross between Buddha and a donkey laughing. It's the most wonderful sound I've ever heard. (As I type, he's making oooh and ahhh noises at his stuffed froggie and trying to bat at it.)

This week has been a lot of fun because Isaiah and I have had a few chances to escape our daily routine. Since we're Minnesotans, we've been stuck indoors all day since he was born, but within this last week, we've taken walks at least once, if not twice a day. It's so nice to get outside and into the fresh air, and although Isaiah doesn't really appreciate any of the sights, he does get a nice nap in every time we go. It has the same effect on him as a car ride. We also went to the conservatory and zoo with Grandma and Grandpa Walz, Aunt Laura, and Uncle James. Again, he didn't seem the least bit interested in bright flowers or funny monkeys, but he liked being carried by his family and he liked looking at our faces. Afterward, Grandma and Grandpa, Michael, Isaiah, and I all went to see Ice Age 2. I felt very relaxed because I figured if he cried a little it wouldn't really matter since it was a kid’s movie. Plus it's easy to discreetly nurse in a dark theater where no one is paying the least bit of attention to you. He slept the whole time, though, so it didn't matter.

Isaiah is really working on keeping his head steady and upright, although he doesn't completely have the hang of it yet. He looks a little bobble head most of the time, and when he finally does get it steady and in place, he'll get a case of the hiccups, which throws him off again. It's very cute to see him look around when he's holding up his little wiggly head - he looks at you in absolute wonder, probably trying to figure out why you look so wobbly.

Recently he's been wanting to play when it's time to sleep (as in, midnight through 2 a.m.) So far I'm doing alright since he's usually such a good sleeper and I have a pretty good reservoir of rest. A few more nights, though, and that reservoir will be completely drained, so we'll have to see if next week's post is bright and cheery, or cranky and tired. I won't be able to nap during the day either, because I'm getting ready for my parents, brother, and grandparents to come in for Easter and Isaiah's dedication this weekend. So, just in case he continues in this habit, I'm stocking up on coffee and the new Caribou Coffee ice creams. Yum.

MacGyver Mommy

This has been a very full week with Isaiah. He had his shots, which made me want to cry. He handled them very well, which was definately a relief. He totally screamed when the nurse stuck him with the needle (three times, no less) but by the time she was done putting the Sesame Street Band-Aids on him, he was mostly better, and by the time I took him to Caribou 30 minutes later, he was smiling and flirting with all the customers. I, on the other hand, didn't recover as quickly, and I felt a little down all day. So I cuddled for extra time with him and gave him lots of kisses, which made me feel better. I also used him as an excuse to watch Monster's Inc. because I figured he would enjoy a fun movie. Right. He slept and/or ate through the whole thing. That's alright, though. I still plan on using him as an excuse to watch Finding Nemo next week.

I had to use MacGyver tactics this last weekend because of my failure to keep his diaper bag stocked. We had gone to church in the morning (extremely late thanks to daylight savings time) and I changed his diaper and took him to the bathroom after the service. He peed in the toilet, and I was so proud and excited that I forgot to flush it. Oops. Oh well, though. Then we went to Arby's with Peter and headed to Peter's home after that to check out the adjoining duplex. Then we hung out for quite a while and ate ice cream. After that, I dropped Michael off at home and headed right out again to get tacky 80's clothing for a Lenscrafters meeting/annual party thing that evening. Isaiah slept all through the shopping, and we got home just in time for Michael and I to change into our bad clothing while Isaiah continued to sleep in the carseat. Then we rushed out to the meeting looking 80's fabulous. We enjoyed hot-dogs, b.b.q. sandwiches, nachos, cookies, and rootbeer from a keg and relaxed while people fawned over our ever-adorable baby. Then I realized that I hadn't changed Isaiah since that time in church, and he was now about 6 hours overdue for a potty break. Why hadn't he cried or something? He hates a wet diaper.

So I took him behind a wall to nurse and change him, because there wasn't a bathroom in the meeting place. I spread out a changing pad and took off his diaper. It was so wet and full it must have weighed two pounds. I felt terrible for letting him stew in that wet, nasty thing for hours. Then I wiped him down while he continued to smile and look around. Seriously, I couldn't believe he hadn't cried or fussed at all in that nasty, nasty diaper. He also peed on the changing pad, since I'm sure he had been waiting for me to take him potty for the longest time. Then I reached into the diaper and realized, to my horror, that I had run out of diapers. I couldn't put him back in that nasty diaper from before, so I got Michael and we improvised. I found a maxi pad in my purse, which I stuck to a burp cloth. Then I used to hair ties to fasten the cloth around his legs. Meanwhile, Michael got one of the plastic bags that held hot-dog-buns and tore two holes for his legs. Then we tied it onto Isaiah and called it good. Amazingly, he didn't seem to mind this new arrangement at all, or even find it strange. He did sound a little crinkly, though, whenever he moved his legs.

On the way home, he wet his new "diaper" and, shockingly, the thing worked and kept his outfit dry. I was so proud, and now I know that if I can't manage to have enough diapers with me, I can always find a hot dog stand. (There's a picture of our creation above.) I've also included a picture of Isaiah after we got back from our first walk around the block in the stroller. I suppose it was still a little chilly outside, but he didn't seem bothered by it, and Michael and I really enjoyed taking him out. He's becoming more interested in his surroundings every day, smiling more all the time, and I have a feeling that laughs are soon going to come out of his sweet little mouth. My goal is to get it on tape when he laughs for the first time, so I may have to go around for a while with the camcorder strapped to me. Whatever it takes, though.

Disgusting Stories of Poo

This week I became an official Worrying Mother. I never thought I was the worrying type before, and in fact I wasn’t. I’m really pretty laid back, or at least I was. Now, though, I have a baby to worry about, and I’m doing a terrific job of it. I started noticing that Isaiah’s pee was a darker yellow, and his poop changed color and consistency. (Sorry to everyone out there reading this who isn’t a mom, because it’s gross and you probably don’t understand why anyone would look that closely in the first place.) So I got online to see what it could mean, and lo and behold, it turns out those are signs of dehydration in babies. The signs were listed on numerous websites along with warnings about how Isaiah could die a horrible death if I didn’t fix it soon. So over the course of two days, I watched every single time he went to the bathroom, took his temperature twice a day, collected pee and poop in a cup, and I even smelled a few wet diapers to see if anything suspicious was happening. I came to the conclusion that Isaiah was indeed dehydrated and in grave danger, and so I brought him to the doctor. She checked him out and almost laughed right in front of me, because there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. Apparently he's a super-healthy baby with an overactive worrier for a mother. She wouldn’t even take the sterile poop sample I brought in as proof that he was very sick. She reassured me that he was fine and dandy, and concluded that things changed because Isaiah, unlike most other babies, holds his pee and poop and waits until we take him to the bathroom so it’s more concentrated. She suggested I take him to the bathroom more often and see if it fixed the problem. Of course it did, and I felt like a big worrying idiot. To be honest, though, I didn’t really care, because my little sweetie pie is alright.

I’ve also discovered that Isaiah definitely has a boy’s sense of humor. On Friday, we had a great day out together, and we had been out of the house all day (which was a big relief after being in the house all day for a while.) We had visited Michael at work so that we could have lunch with him, and then Isaiah slept while I walked around the mall for a few hours. It will be so nice when it’s warm enough to walk outside with him. We were finally headed home, and I was slipping Isaiah out of the carrier and into his car seat when he woke up hungry. I decided to just feed him in the car so he wouldn’t be hungry all the way home. As he was eating, I felt him fill his diaper, and I figured I should change it before I started driving, because Isaiah hates dirty diapers. I set down a changing mat on the back seat and got out a new diaper and the travel pack of wet wipes. As I began to change him, I noticed that I only had two wet wipes and made a mental note to refill when we got home. I had him all cleaned up and was lifting his little butt to slip the new diaper underneath, when he grunted and shot out a blast of what looked like guacamole. I screamed in horror as the green poo hit the car, my sweater, my wool coat, the carrier, his legs, the car seat, and my hair. I looked down in shock to see little Isaiah grinning from ear to ear. Yep. He definitely has a boy’s sense of humor. Unfortunately, I had already used the two wet wipes I had, so I just took off my already-pooped-on-sweater and cleaned up what I could while Isaiah smiled on and kicked his feet into even more poop. Then I drove home as quickly as possible, and when we got there, we took a very long bath.

Only someone as cute as Isaiah could get away with pooping on me and still have me so very much in love with him.

Week one...er seven

I decided I needed to write about raising Isaiah because I know that if I don't, years from now I will forget what it was like to have my little baby boy. In fact, I feel bad that I didn't do this from the beginning because there is already so much that has happened in the first seven weeks of his life. He's gone from being a newborn to being...something else, I guess. He's not all curled up anymore, and there's a difference in his eyes when he looks around. His face has become more his, and when I look back on pictures from before, I absolutely marvel at how tiny he was and how gigantic he is now. We will go into the doctor next week to get shots (I'm pretty sure I'm going to cry when they stick my baby, and I might need to be restrained so I don't haul off and deck the nurse who did it) and then we'll get to see how much he's gained. I'm betting he weighs well over nine pounds, though. My little Titan.

I feel very blessed to have such a good baby. I was preparing for a colicky baby because I was one and I figured God would give me my just desserts. I should have known - God always gives me better things than I deserve. Isaiah is just the sweetest little guy I could have asked for. I didn't even know babies came this good. He really only fusses for two or three reasons. He cries when he's hungry and I don't get to him quickly enough and give him lots and lots and lots of milk. He used to cry when we changed his diaper, but that stopped when we stopped using cold wet wipes. I totally understand - I wouldn't want them used on my behind either. Now he just fusses a little if he has to go to the bathroom, and a little more if we don't catch it in time and he ends up going in his diaper. And he cries if he has gas bubbles, but then if you put him tummy down, he'll wiggle his butt in the air until he lets out a toot. It's incredibly cute even though I feel bad for him.

I also feel very blessed to have such a good husband. Michael's wonderful to me - and to Isaiah. I honestly don't know how I would get along without him, and single moms have my newfound respect - as well as my sympathy, because even with a good husband and a good baby, this is hard. To be honest, I don't know how Michael has the energy to be so good to us. He's worked all day long, and he will do homework until late tonight, but despite all that, he's upstairs trying to get Isaiah to pee in the sink so I can sit here and write a little.

Oh - that's one of the most exciting things we've done with Isaiah. We've started potty training him already, and he's really good at it. Instead of just having him go in his diaper, we hold him over the sink and go Pssssssss and he pees (and sometimes poops) in the sink. He still goes in his diaper sometimes because we don't always pay enough attention, but he usually waits and holds it. I think we catch it about half the time and the other half we miss it. It's definately worth it, though, because he hates having a dirty diaper, but he seems to enjoy going in the bathroom. I think it's because he likes the mirror and the bright lights and the fresh air on his cute little bottom. It's also exciting every time he does it because I know it will be so much easier when he's walking and saying "no" to me and we already have so much potty training done. It also makes me feel like I've taught him something which makes me feel important (even though the truth is probably that he has taught me his signals instead of the other way around.) He's learned so much in seven weeks that has had nothing to do with my teaching him. He's learned to focus his eyes and to make different cries for different problems and to hold his head up and to keep his hands in his mouth when he wants them there. He's absolutely amazing.