Fall in Pennsylvania

What an amazing day. In his Fall Orange outfit (Matt's favorite color), Rylen saw some pumpkins that were much larger than he is. Thanks to his mother's obsession with photographing every small moment, he is comfortable in front of the camera.

The bright sun sadly blotted out some of the lovely background color of his "pumpkin portrait," but at least the orange is still there.

And even more exciting than his new-found ability to sit up, Rylen's hair is growing in. Finally. The color, however, is still to be determined, it seems. In some lights, there is a strong hint of red; most times, he is just glisteningly blonde. Either way, it's rather fuzzy and very adorable.

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great hand-me-downs + procrastination =

Welcome to our photo shoot.....

Hello Kitty....

This could have ended badly...Rylen lay down for some quality tummy-back time and Grace saw the opportunity to lie down on something comfortable. So, tail meet little hand. I stood vigilantly over the duo, watching Rylen grab her, waiting for her to turn around and scratch him.

Shockingly it was peaceful, so I grabbed the camera...This could be the start of something strange and beautiful as our "baby cat" bonds with our baby boy, even if she doesn't really want to.

entertaining baby

I am not sure who was more entertained when we went to the little neighborhood park...

Sometimes I wonder about Rylen's "daredevil" attitude: what will he enjoy when he is older? Now that he has had a taste of the real thing, the mechanical swing that is taking up 3/4 of our living room is rather ho-hum. When we put him back in the plush Fisher-Price contraption, he looked up at us, "are you kidding me? This is so boring..."

First Commandment

As Rylen sits in his swing and watches "Friends" on t.v., I am learning an important - no, essential - lesson:

Thou shalt not judge other mothers.

For some reason, Rylen is fussy. He won't take a nap, cries when he is awake, cuddles and then thrashes his arms, and then cries some more. So, out of desperation, I turned the television on. What damage am I doing to his developing mind? I think about the moms who admit to plunking their kids in front of the technological babysitter, and I think about how I used to scoff and assume I would never do such a horrible thing. But....

I so wanted to keep my children out of t.v's snare, dreaming that somehow as they grew they would be saved from the lure of the huge images, choosing instead to play outside. But now, my three month old is quieter than he has been all day, thanks to the "miracle box." If the bright colors and movements attract him now, what will happen when he understands what he is watching? Will he lose all interest in doing anything other than sitting and staring? What have I done?

At this moment, I have peace. And I have the t.v to thank.

our new babysitter

Rylen in his swing

The Worst Mama Award Winner Is...

Ok, so at the risk of someone coming to take Rylen away from me, I will admit to my latest errors:

1. The other day, I slept in until 11:00. And made Rylen stay asleep too.
2. I am watching "Kendra," the super-trashy reality show, and Rylen is happily watching right along with me. WHAT?

I feel guilty for enjoying the quiet. I do love my son, but I miss the days when I could watch t.v without feeling like I was destroying someone else's brain.

Seeking comfort

Rylen and "Lee" the elephant...

Recently, an old high school friend found me on Facebook. Our conversations briefly summed up our new lives: we were parents, and we were happily braving sleepy days and sleepless nights. Tonight when I glanced through random postings on Facebook, I noticed a few people sharing their condolences to our mutual friend. A knot of fear roosted in my stomach. Even as I knew what I was going to read, I sought the answer.

Yes, his young son had died.

I am struggling now as I think of his young son, falling out of a window and my sadness has prompted this posting. Not sure how to compartmentalize my emotions, I watch Rylen sleeping with his new friend, Lee the elephant. So peaceful. So beautiful.

How do parents learn to live with these fears of the uncontrollable? How do you learn to let go enough to actually be a parent? There are days when it seems easiest to hide under the covers and let it all wash over you, as you lack the strength to raise your head and confront anything.

Peace be with you, Oliver and Noah.

baseball and a meal

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Rylen, in his Rollins tee, is a good luck charm: for his first game, Rylen saw the Phils win against the Reds: 22-1.

Working the camera

Rylen: One Week Old

Someone suggested that I take weekly pictures of Rylen to document his constant changes, and we have faithfully done so - so this eight-week portrait captures the very grown-up little man (in a Ralph Lauren one-sie). The most exciting change is his growing ability to track faces and toys, showing interest in the world around him. As I snapped his picture, he smiled at the camera, while watching me laugh and smile at him. He is loving this life!

Rylen: 8 weeks

Getting a move on

Rylen's new thing is to be a tad overwhelmed in the afternoons, getting very fussy and upset. When Matt got home from work, I handed him the squirming and crying little boy, laced up my brand new sneakers, and walked out the door for my first run since August.

It felt so good. I expected to be able to run for only 45 seconds, but instead, I survived for 10 minutes. I walked out the rest of the mile, and so my first workout was a whopping 14 minutes. It was wonderful.

a napping baby

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When a baby naps, Mom and Dad are just happy beyond words. But when a baby is such a cute sleeper, you don't do much other than stare at him.

I mean, look at that little face as he stretches....

To sleep...

If I didn't start moving, I would have collapsed. As M. napped upstairs, still in a daze from a late night, R. happily squirmed and wiggled - almost as if he didn't care that his parents were too tired to see straight. So, to keep R. happy and me upright, I strapped him in his stroller and set out for the bumpy sidewalks of our neighborhood.

Maybe I hoped the movement would lull him to sleep or maybe I needed the fresh air to clear my head, but not-so-deep down, I wished I were sound asleep. 42 minutes later, we rounded the final corner and headed for home and I watched R. begin to nod off, closing his eyes against the afternoon sun; as I carried the stroller up our four flagstone steps, his eyes shot open and he looked at me with a smile. I realized that a nap - for either R. or me - was out of the question, as he hadn't been lulled to sleep - but at least my head was more clear.

a tired mama

A picture from yesterday - Rylen sleeping in his Boppy Seat....

Do things always look better in the morning? It is almost midnight and I am waiting for sleep to wash over me....Rylen has finally closed his eyes, but it required me draping him over my leg, so I don't see me actually nodding off any time soon. Matt doesn't understand my "mommy radar" (I know that isn't the right term, but forgive me, I haven't slept in a while), but there is no way I can sleep next to Rylen when he is awake - he fidgets and moves and dances and talks, and I am either entertained or at the ready to feed him....it is exhausting. So, Matt is asleep upstairs and I am sitting in the living room with a baby draped over my leg.

Maybe Ry doesn't get the fact that, as it is very dark outside, we sleep now. He is so fascinated with the world around him...and I am enabling him. I am willing to sleep with a light on so that he can entertain himself by looking at the wall. I am an enabler when I should be reinforcing habits that promote....something other than this. But, he is only six weeks old - so....and now his eyes are wide open again. Man.

A growing 5 week old baby

My son is in the midst of a growth spurt, and I am learning to live with little sleep. I know that it is the song of all new mothers, but I am only now realizing how challenging it can be to be so sleepy. Rylen's growth keeps him eating every two hours and actually sleeping quite a bit, but somehow I am failing to nap when he sleeps. It is hard to get a good and restful feeling when your sleep is chopped up into such meager pieces.

When he is awake, he ends up exhausting himself by looking around and taking in his world. I still marvel at how new it is to him - yesterday's trip to the grocery store was by far one of the most thrilling things he has experienced (all the lights and new objects!) - and he really enjoys it all. I find myself, even in my fog of my exhaustion, being as happy as he is. And he smiles a lot, very excited to see it all....

Ah...bathtime

Once a week we bathe Rylen, although we have yet to feel too confident in doing so. Even as he rests in the little net within the tub, it is hard to keep him warm and comfortable and do everything in a timely manner. Tonight's bath was exciting in its cleanliness - he made it all the way through the bath without pooping.

Best Little Boy

When we left the hospital, the nurses praised Rylen as a "laid-back" and "relaxed" baby. I hesitated to take any of the credit for his personality, as I often consider myself a bit...high strung. But yesterday, a woman complimented his calm and happy demeanor, and then made me feel great.
"He can tell that you are calm and he is reacting to your actions," she told me.
I thought about it, and realized that YES, I am calm and rather happy around him. I don't freak out when he cries and I enjoy this little person. So....maybe I can take some of the credit for his awesomeness. Sure, his father is the relaxed one...but I'm in there too. And now I am beginning to see it.

My toes are purple

I treated myself to a pedicure today, admitting defeat: my feet hurt. And now that I can no longer touch them, there was no way that all that rough skin was gonna be coming off. Matt hates feet, so I couldn't ask him to rub or scrub...I had to pay someone to help out. It was worth it, the half hour of pampering. I picked out a dark purple color, something that will stand out and can cheer me up, if I ever see my toes again.

forever and ever

I have decided that I am going to be pregnant forever. This is not, mind you, a choice but a reality. Part of my new-found "understanding" is based on confusion - how will I know when I am, in fact, in labor? Everyone tells me, very sagely, "you'll just know." So not helpful, people. I have memorized the sections in the seven baby books that deal with false versus true labor, and yet I re-read them daily, just checking. As my aches and pains increase, I can't help but question how I will discern "true" contractions when I am struggling throughout my day. And this brings me to the assumption that, in fact, I will be carrying this child for many more months. Maybe I will go down in history as the pregnant woman who never gave birth. Ever.

I cannot imagine a day when I will be comfortable, as the constant pain has become, well, constant. As of today, Baby is 37 weeks old....full term...ready to go. Then again, maybe the ready to go simply describes me.

My morning panic

I am 36 weeks pregnant....And I am getting very good at being emotional....

So, I slept perfectly last night. I mean, I was out, only had to pee two times, and was happy to greet the morning at 7 (rather than 4 or even 3 am). But then I thought, "wait, why did I sleep so well? Why aren't I in pain? Where is my insomnia. What's wrong?" And then I figured that something was wrong with Baby. No, I didn't simply figure it, I KNEW. I pounded my way downstairs, (my usual tip-toe has turned into oh-so-gentle booming sounds), drank two glasses of milk, woke up my husband, Matt, and made him lie down with me until I felt Baby move. I poked my tummy. I prodded him. I all but spanked him, pleading with him to move, to wake up, to be alive. In his sleepy state, Matt gently rubbed my tummy, yawned and started to fall asleep.

I did begin to cry, now convinced that Baby had died.
"He is usually awake and very active at 7," I told Matt.
"Relax," Matt said. I cried harder.
Matt put his mouth on my stomach, "Hellloooo....you're scaring your mom. Wake up....," he said. We both felt a very gentle nudge with Baby's hands. And then a few minutes later, obviously annoyed at being woken up, Baby kicked me. Hard.

"What time is it?" Matt asked.
"7:15," I responded.
"So....Baby slept in for 15 minutes. And you freaked out."

I will admit now that I seem to have over-reacted. And now, I will laugh at myself, especially as Matt was supportive of my overreaction and my crazy start to the day.