Balloons, Bubbles, & Toddlers... Oh My!

So sorry for the severe lack of updates lately—life has been pretty fantastically busy as we try to keep up with our not-so-little one.  You know how everyone always tells you that your baby will turn in to a toddler overnight? Well, everyone is definitely NOT lying to you. No matter how hard you try to hold on to those last few fleeting moments of being the proud parent of an infant—it’s truly over before you know it. As we speed all too quickly towards Lacey’s last week as an official “baby,” I can safely say that our little girl is truly growing up before our eyes. Gone is the teensy-weensy baby who needed us for everything—from feeding her, to carrying her, to keeping her occupied 24/7—and she  has been replaced with an energetic, defiant, sweet as can be, near-toddler who is truly enjoying exploring the world around her. And even though I find myself missing those early moments of non-stop cuddles with my newborn, I can honestly say that Lacey has entered my favorite stage of her childhood so far. As exhausting as it may be, I love watching her as she is introduced to all of life’s beauty.  Sure, picking up her sippy cup for the one millionth time gets a teeny-tiny bit annoying after she spends the entire morning acquainting herself with the mystery that is “gravity”—but seeing the joy in her eye as she tries to understand why her cup continues to fall to the ground is more than worth it.

Just last week, I watched in awe as my little girl demonstrated her new-found understanding (or lack thereof), of her world over and over again. It started when I decided to turn our normal nightly bath-time into a bubble bath extravaganza! I filled the tub with her favorite bath toys, put Lacey in the water, and added the secret ingredient (Johnson & Johnson’s Night Time Bubble Bath). Lacey loves watching as we blow bubbles outside—so I anxiously waited for what I could only imagine would be pure elation on Lacey’s behalf—but boy, was I wrong. Within seconds, the water started to explode in to bubbles all around us. As I anticipated the sure giggle fit that I was about to witness, Lacey looked quizzically at the bubbles… and then promptly jumped out of the bathtub and into my arms. I’d never seen her move like that before! She was beyond terrified of the mysterious balls of gas that had dared find their way into her bathtub. Our little chica literally refused to get back in the tub—and I was forced to resort to a good ol’ fashioned sponge bath to wipe those darn bubbles off her. Needless to say, we won’t be trying that again for awhile.

The following day, we ventured out to Party City to stock up on a couple of goodies for Lacey’s rapidly approaching first birthday party. The cashier quickly fell in love with Lacey (as, let’s face it, most people do) and kindly offered her her first balloon. Positive that she would love it, we accepted the balloon with delight and hoped toward the car. I put it in the front seat and headed to the back to buckle up my baby girl. As I strapped Lacey in her car seat, the balloon meandered to the back seat. Lacey eyed the balloon and once again, leaped out of her car seat and into my open arms. The tears sprung to her eyes and she refused to leave my arms for a good fifteen minutes. I spent the rest of the day slowly acquainting her with the balloon—and now, she loves that darn thing. If she could, she would take it everywhere. Sadly, Mr. Balloon is entering his last days of helium before we have to say “bye-bye”—but luckily, we have plenty of balloons ordered for next week’s fiesta that will have to make do as a replacement.

Watching Lacey learn about life’s most interesting mysteries reminds me how truly blessed I am every day—and not just because we have been blessed with the world’s best daughter—but because life truly is full of beauty everywhere. As an adult, we’ve all been guilty of taking life’s everyday miracles for granted—but babies don’t have that luxury. And you know what? There’s nothing better than rediscovering the beauty and magic of the world with your favorite little person.

Do you have any silly stories of your little one as they start to see the world around them in a new light? Feel free to leave a comment and tell me. And be sure to check back soon for an update on Lacey’s first birthday party—I can’t wait to share the details of her big day with you guys!

See you real soon,
Lacey’s mama

Your Daily Dose of Lace:

 Trying to understand her new friend, Mr Balloon.

S/.;c.c;c’b/VRT <<Lacey’s Blog Post

 

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The Great Debate: TV Time

If you know me, you know I am a serial television addict. I live for my “stories”—my stories, however, are more Kardashian and less How the World Turns. If I had the chance, I could literally spend days (maybe weeks) watching TV.

Now, even though I’m an out-and-open television lover, I had strong feelings on not letting my child turn into a self-imposed TV zombie. I may cherish my reality TV shows now—but growing up, I (like most people my age) preferred playing outside or with my Barbie dolls more than sitting in front of the TV. Quite the difference from today’s X-BOX crazed four year olds.

I started my days as “mommy” as a diligent no television advocate. No screens, of any kind, whatsoever. Well, in today’s technology obsessed world—that proved darn near impossible. By six months, I was willing to let Lacey listen to an auto-read book on the iPad, play an app on my iPhone, and even sparingly watch a show or two on a particularly laundry-ridden day.

Now-a-days, I’m sad to say that my days of TV-silence have been replaced with the constant noise of “Disney Jr. On Demand.”  Few things make Lacey happier than hearing the theme song to Sofia the First blare out of the television. She’s gone from the no-screen-queen to Princess Sofia’s best friend and biggest fan. We have the soundtrack downloaded on my phone and the CD blaring in our car—and on particularly crabby car rides; it’s the only thing to get her to calm down.

Still, every time she squeals with delight when she sees the television switch on, I cringe on the inside. Doctors everywhere scream for “no screens before age 2”—stating that it causes children to have severe delays on language development, reading skills, and short-term memory. It’s even been related to sleep problems (and my little rarely-sleeps-through-the-night baby does not need any help in that department!). Once children reach age two, and their brain is somewhat more developed, educational television can prove beneficial— but for now, doctors everywhere are urging for babies to realize that life does not happen in the 2D form seen on their favorite shows.

Even knowing the facts, I can’t imagine going on a telly-vision hiatus anytime soon. I think in today’s world, it’s growing more and more difficult each day to keep your baby screen-clean for the first 24 months of his or her precious little life. I mean, I’m sorry, but that baby is going to spot you answering your phone from half-way across the house and want to get to the phone (and promptly stick it right in her drool-covered mouth) more than you’ve wanted anything in your whole entire life.

To the same extent, I do feel as though screens are being overused. In our house personally, television has begun to turn into a clutch. I see Lacey whip her head toward the television as we enter a room to check to see if it’s on—and it’s all I need to know that we are watching too much of the darn stuff. Therefore, I created a TV detox from 12-5 P.M. daily in our house. Sure, I love our morning cuddles as mommy drinks her much needed cup of coffee and watches Ellen (hey! She teaches good values, right!?). And I’m fine with the TV being on after dinnertime—so long as Lacey is playing with her toys while she watches. But for us, we need that mandatory five hour no-show zone each day. It may not seem like much—but it’s a start!

During our break between morning and evening nap, it’s so important for us to get out and do something! Whether that be errands, a walk, or a trip to the park (or better yet: a walk to the park!)—it’s vital to get outside and let your baby explore the real (3D!) world. I know that not everyone has the privilege of our gorgeous Florida winters—so don’t put these nice days to waste while they’re here—it’s going to be too effing hot again before we know it.

Also, decide as a family when you really want (or need!) television time. I absolutely refuse (for now) to be the parent who whips out my cell phone to distract my screaming infant while at a restaurant—but I know that I need (yes, need) it to entertain Lacey while I try to buckle our wiggly piggly into her car seat.

Like with all things in life, moderation is the key to the television conundrum. What do you think: do you live and die by the TV in your household? Or are you better off without it? What do you do to keep your little ones occupied if you need a quick break during the day? Leave a comment to let me know—I’d love the advice!

See you real soon,
Lacey’s mama

 

Your Daily Dose of Lace:

More than intrigued with her TV shows and Cheese Puffs.

 

Meeting her favorite Princess Sofia at Disney! So happy-- she still laughs whenever she sees this picture.

 

‘lkm0s  <<Lacey’s Daily Blog Post (Short and Sweet today!)

Identity Theft

Feeling like you’re beginning to lose—or have completely lost—your identity is a common truth among mothers. Suddenly, you’re not yourself anymore—instead, you’re the mother of your little one. No one even bothers to make eye contact with you in the grocery store—but everyone (literally everyone) will “ohh” and “ahh” over your sweet baby. Quite the culture shock from pregnancy, where everywhere you went all eyes were on you and that adorable growing baby bump. Remember those glorious days when strangers rushed ahead to open the door for you as you slowly waddled your way into the bank? Well, those days are long gone—only to be replaced with the image of a frantic mother, wearing little-to-no makeup, with her hair thrown up in a messy bun. It’s as if nobody dares cross acknowledge the woman with the crazy eyes as she (unsuccessfully) tries to remain cool, calm, and collected while attempting to push and pull her stroller through the all-too-heavy doors.

I’ll never forget the first time I realized just how much my life (and identity!) had changed. Lacey was a whole two days old and we were making what was to become our daily trip to the pediatrician to check on her jaundice levels. My husband and I were sitting in the waiting room, coo-ing over the world’s cutest newborn, when the check-in clerk called out for “Lacey’s mom or dad.”

I faltered for a second. Are they calling for me? Should I really go up there? Surely, this has to be some kind of mistake. I’m not a mom—I’m just me. Two days ago I was just clumsy, short on sleep, extremely pregnant Shannon… and now? Now I was a mom.

Sure, I had realized how extremely different my life would be when we saw that exciting “pregnant” on the little blue and white stick I’d just peed on. (FYI, Clearblue Easy Digital Pregnancy Tests are the way to go if you think you may be expecting your own bundle of joy. Who wants to deal with deciphering whether a line is really a line? Make it easy on yourself—go the digital route). I realized it again when Lacey was placed in to my arms for the first time ever in the delivery room-- and yet again when they knowingly let us leave the hospital with her a day later (Are you sure a nurse shouldn’t follow us home for a few days?).

But in that moment at the pediatrician’s office, I became a mom. And not just any mom… but Lacey’s mom. And my husband? The man I spent 8 years getting to know and love? He was no longer just “Ross” or my husband. He was Lacey’s dad. We were Lacey’s parents. What a crazy adventure we were embarking on together. As a family of three.

Recognizing your new found mommy or daddy-hood can seem overwhelming—especially for the stay-at-home parent who no longer has a work title to justify their day-to-day life. But rather than mourn the loss of your “old” identity, why not relish in your new one!? Sure, you may no longer be able to meet up at the local bar with your friends on any given night of the week—but who’s to say you can’t enjoy a well deserved glass of wine after you get the baby down for the night? And sure, Saturdays will no longer consist of sleeping in until noon—but I bet you’ll love waking up at 8 and snuggling in bed with your hubby and baby while watching Saturday morning cartoons even more.

It’s important to not feel isolated while you go through these new changes. Remember: you’re partner is changing as well. Talk about it. Communicate. You two are in for the experience of a lifetime and it’s going to be a much smoother ride if you remember that you’re in it together.

Finding ways to embrace the “new you” as a couple can be a fun challenge too. For us, we’ve always been big movie go-ers. On any given Saturday night, you could find us enjoying dinner at one of our favorite restaurants before heading off to see the latest blockbuster. And then came Lacey.  Now, you may not know this—but infants are generally not welcomed in movie theaters. Who knew!?Nothing ruins the latest thriller like a baby screaming his head off in the back row. So for us, Redbox and pizza night became our new best friend. And I have to say—I actually prefer it to going out for several reasons:

1.       You can turn the air down, the sound up, and snuggle under lots of covers in the comfort of your own couch or bed.

2.       Unless you’re a college student (or reliving your days as one) using a water bottle to smuggle your favorite “adult beverage” into the movie theatre (or perhaps you frequent one of those awesome dine-in move theaters like Studio Movie Grill in Scottsdale, Arizona) then you can’t really drink while at the movies.  But guess what? You can at home! And for like 1/100^th of the price. And if you accidentally have one too many (obviously assuming that one parent is not partaking in the alcohol consumption)? There’s no need to worry about how you’re going to safely get home—you just waltz your way right into your bedroom.

 

3.   And the very best reason? You can pause the movie if you need to use the restroom!! No need to hold it or chance missing an important scene when you're watching at home. As someone with an insanely small bladder (made even weaker by delivering my chunky baby girl) this reason alone is more than enough for me.

 

However, like most good solutions—problems may still arise. For us, it was needing to wait until movies came to DVD before seeing them. Totally fine under normal circumstances—but so not acceptable for certain movies. One movie that we were completely unable to wait to see was the newest Hunger Games: Catching Fire. Being remotely obsessed with these movies, we knew we had to find a way to see it as soon as possible. There would be no waiting for DVD release for this one!

We decided to welcome our new family status and turn this movie night in to an adventure—by hitting up the (not so local) drive in movie theater. It took weeks of planning, rescheduling several times due to a cranky baby, a 90 minute drive, and booking a hotel for the night but we were able to see a movie while it was still in the theater!  And I have to say, watching one of the best movies of all time in the comfort of my own car (in pajamas!) with my husband by my side, my daughter cuddled in my lap and gas station candy to get us through—is easily my favorite movie going moment of all time (with the exception of any and all Harry Potter Midnight Madnesses of course). Sure, seeing one movie cost us upwards of $100 but it was worth every penny.

So be creative. Have fun with your new identity. Embrace every moment of it. And if you still find yourself needing a night to let lose? Well, I’d be willing to bet that grandma and grandpa would be more than willing to babysit.

Do you have any fun ways to unwind as a family? Or by yourself? Leave a comment and let me know.

See you real soon,

Lacey’s mama

 

Your Daily Dose of Lace:

Relaxing in the hotel before going to see Catching Fire.

Sleeping on my lap at the drive in movie theater. So precious.

 

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<<Lacey’s Blog Post—she managed to paste the copied Bitcoin link! So skilled.

Weight For It

Oh, baby weight: so easy to gain. Near impossible to lose.

Ever since our beautiful 10 pound, 9 ounce baby came in to this world, people always say the same thing whenever they hold her: You must have some awesome arm muscles!

I suppose I do—but those muscles are not-so-conveniently hiding under the extra 30 40 pounds of post-pregnancy weight I’ve been luggin’ around since April.

See, when we first started talking about trying to get pregnant, I decided one thing: I would enjoy pregnancy to the fullest. Although I pray we are blessed with several more healthy pregnancies and beautiful babies—I know that’s not guaranteed.  Therefore, I wanted to make sure I reveled in all that pregnancy had to offer—from indulging in the midnight cravings to full on embracing the “pregnancy waddle.”

Well, like many people, my pregnancy was far from easy. I suffered from something called pubic symphysis—where my bones relaxed too much, resulting in the most unimaginable pain ever. Seriously, this pain was 1000x worse than the actual childbirth. I couldn’t roll over in bed, couldn’t get in the car, or even sit down in a chair without tears springing to my eyes. Coincidentally, this pain resulted in a very early pregnancy walk—I was waddling like a woman heading for the delivery room by four months (talk about embracing pregnancy pains!). And by 8 months, my doctor didn’t feel comfortable with me driving anymore (after my leg went numb while driving one day), and I was put on modified bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy.

On top of that, around six months, I started to itch. Itch. So. Bad. All the effing time. It was winter at the time—so I chalked the itching up to my stretching skin and the cold (well, Florida cold) air. I was slathering on Cortisone lotion 24/7—I literally looked like a pink-version of an Avatar for the last 3 months of my pregnancy.

I was going through some changes with my midwife (my actual midwife—who I absolutely love and adore—was on maternity leave herself—and I was stuck with an awful replacement, who could have cared less about my “normal aches and pains.” Thank God my amazing original midwife returned in time to deliver our baby girl!) and never thought to bring up the itching at any of my appointments (lesson learned). Finally, a little over a week before my due date—and with scratch marks covering my body—my husband mentioned the itching at one of my bi-weekly appointments. I was seeing yet another midwife that day—and she took my itching seriously and decided to draw some blood just to make sure everything was okay.

Fast forward a week later, to Friday, April 5^th (one day before my due date and nowhere near going in to labor by myself), I received a frantic call from my midwife telling me I needed to get to the hospital to be induced—now. I will never forget the moment. I was sitting in the car at a stoplight with my mom and sister (who were in town waiting for Lacey’s arrival). Ross was at his new job in Daytona (it was his first week!)—an hour away from our hospital and unreachable by cell phone. I immediately started to cry and half-listened as the midwife explained that the itching was caused by cholestasis—basically meaning, pregnancy was causing my liver to shut down and if left-untreated caused a highly increased risk of a still born baby. Aka: we had to get baby girl out of my body.

Long story, short: we made it to the hospital to be induced early that evening, spent 36 hours in those awful hospital beds (or in an even-worse hospital chair—as was the case for Ross, my parents, and sister), and our wonderful and healthy, chunky monkey was born at 8:39 A.M. on Sunday, April 7^th.

My point to this story is—that between the pregnancy complications and the normal pregnancy cravings—I was seriously lacking on the working out but doing more than my share of partaking in the eating out. I mean, if stuffing my face was worthy of an Olympic Medal, I would have been getting at least a bronze. And before I knew it, I found myself in the car with my family, receiving the news of my imminent induction at a whopping 60 pounds heavier. Ick.

People are so wonderful to the diluted pregnant—assuring me I’d lose half of it before I even left the hospital—and the other half from breastfeeding. HAH! I quickly learned one thing-- pregnancy weight gain is just like pregnancies or new babies in one major weigh way: no two mommies will gain or lose weight the same. The lucky few do lose the weight before they check out of the hospital 48 hours later. Some struggle with those last 5 pounds for years. Yet others spend the rest of their lives feeling sub-conscious of their post-baby bodies.

For me, I lost 20 pounds while in the hospital (almost 11 of which was Lacey herself). Over the next six months, I “semi-dieted” my way down another 20 pounds. The holidays came and went, and I managed to gain back 5 pounds. Boohoo.

After our return from our Christmas in Phoenix, I promised myself to become refocused and lose these last 30 pounds once and for all. I mean, my sister’s getting married in May and I refuse to be flaunting a post-baby body in a bridesmaid’s dress (especially since my “baby” won’t even technically be a baby by then!). In the past 3 and a half weeks, I’ve managed to lose exactly 9 whole pounds!  Sadly, I don’t see a difference yet—but boy do I love stepping on that scale each morning and seeing those numbers drop.

Over the next several months, I’ll be sure to check in often with my weight loss journey. I know it’s going to get tougher—but if I can do it, you can too! Here’s to a bikini (okay, maybe a tankini) body by summer! ;)

Are you on a mission to lose weight yourself? Have any secrets to your post-baby weight loss success? Leave a comment and let me know!

See you real soon,

Lacey’s mama

Your Daily Dose of Lace: our 10 pound, 9 ounces bundle of joy

 

Bg vv b  mnb b <<Lacey’s Blog Post

The What-Ifs

I’m really not a fan of people who seem to constantly be writing negative things about their lives. I get that bad things happen but, I believe that how you react to a situation tells a lot about your character. To me, complaining is just about the least constructive thing you can do. So, having already written two pity-party posts about our family’s illness over the past few weeks—I debated whether or not I should even write this post. Buttttt, when I started a blog, I promised myself I would share all the ups and downs of being a mommy: the good, the bad, and the scary. And last night was a very worrisome night in our household… and not just because the Patriots lost—which sent my Patriots-obsessed husband into a severe off-season depression.

Before I begin, I should probably give you a little back story. I’ve been getting migraines on and off for years. When I got pregnant, I would literally get a gut-wrenching migraine every Monday like clockwork. I figured it was a combination of working, crazy pregnancy hormones, and the all too common lack of sleep. As soon as I delivered, they went away for awhile, but have just recently started returning with a vengeance—and more frequently too, sometimes bi-weekly. I had one last week that was so bad; I woke up in tears at 3 A.M.

Yesterday, I started to get a migraine around 7 P.M. but I tried to ignore it—hoping it would disappear. We had just returned from watching the Patriots game and I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed (yes, at 7 P.M.!). Now, Lacey’s at that awkward stage that she is able to sit up well but she loves to lunge for everything—and often tips over in the process. So to be on the safe side, we leave her rock ‘n play (which she outgrew for sleeping) in the bathroom so she’ll have a safe place while I get ready whenever Ross isn’t around. Well, apparently she has outgrown this stage as well—because within seconds she had managed to turn herself upside down and was trying to climb (or more like it: fall) out of it. I rushed to her and ending up tripping over our bath mat as I lunged to save her from hitting the ground. I started to fall sideways and knew I was heading right for the ledge of the bathtub—with no way of stopping. I wrapped my arms tightly around Lacey to try and keep her from taking the brunt of the fall and pummeled into the ledge—letting out a scream on the way down to alert my husband to come running.

I swear we seemed to fall in slow motion. I didn’t take my eyes off Lacey the entire time—wanting to keep her as safe as possible. We hit the ledge and she immediately started to cry. I knew I was hurting pretty bad so I worried that she had been injured as well. My husband came bursting through the door all of .5 seconds later and Lacey had already stopped crying. We immediately checked her over and over again and she seemed perfectly fine—aside from the initial shock. We had one other scare like this a few months ago—when Lacey fell off the bed—so we knew what signs to look out for in case of a concussion. I think I probably checked on her every 15 minutes last night, but thank god, she seems to have come out unscathed.

I, on the other hand, was a mess. My arm started to bruise within seconds and I’m still worried I may have slightly fractured my wrist. I honestly don’t know how Lacey didn’t end up with so much as a bruise. The stress of the situation caused my migraine to intensify and within an hour, I was shivering and seeing spots. Ross took Lacey and I jumped in a hot shower to try and relax. As I was getting out, I briefly blacked out, sat down on the same darn bath ledge we had fallen upon earlier, and started throwing up.

Like most moms, I couldn’t even take the time to worry about myself. The entire time I was worried about Lacey and just wanted to check to make sure she was still okay. I wanted to kiss and cuddle my baby girl after such a scare. It was all I could do to stop myself from thinking about the what-ifs. What if I couldn’t have cushioned her blow? What if she had hit her head on the shower faucet? What if this had happened an hour later while Ross was at work? I just kept thinking about how lucky we were and how much worse the situation could have been.

I called my mom and immediately started to cry as I retold the story and explained my fear of the “what ifs.” Like any good (great!) mom, she calmed me down and reminded me that you can’t worry about what could have been. All I can do is thank the Lord for keeping my baby safe and learn from my mistakes (like never, ever leave anything on the floor... & maybe try to be less clumsy).

As mommies, there are millions of what-ifs that we could worry about each day. I’d love to say it’s something that I’ll outgrow as I continue to grow and learn as a parent—but I have a feeling that’s just not how parenthood works. The scary truth of the matter is that your life as a parent is constantly changing and evolving. Fifteen years from now, I won’t be worrying about tripping while holding my baby—but I’m sure as hell going to be worried about whether or not I’m qualified to teach her to drive (I’m not. Ross will be taking the reins on that one). And 27 years from now, I’ll probably be worrying about my ability to give my own daughter the right advice when she calls crying about some mistake she made with her baby girl (hopefully I’ve inherited my own mom’s ability to always know the right thing to say).

I guess, like my mama said, we just have to remember to be thankful when things turn out right and pray when they don’t—and just enjoy the journey along the way. Thank you mom for teaching us the importance of positive thinking—and for always being there to remind us when we have a momentary lapse of judgment.

Do you suffer from what-if syndrome? Have you had to learn any mommy lessons the hard way? Leave a comment and let me know I'm not alone. ;)

See you real soon,
Lacey’s mama

Your Daily Dose of Lace: still happy even after a Patriots loss

Lacey's Blog Post

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Smother Mother

It's all too coincidental that "mother" makes up the majority of the word "smother." As mommies (and daddies!), it’s our job to love our children unconditionally—to think that everything they do is near miraculous. Perhaps you’ve seen ABC’s new comedy “The Goldberg’s”? If you haven’t, I highly suggest it. It’s a hilarious show about what life was like growing up in 80’s—during a simpler time—before selfies, iPhones, and you know—parenting blogs. If you have seen it, then you know all about Beverly Goldberg—coined by her children as the original “smother mother.” She’s the type of mother who would walk you to class on the first day of your senior year. She listens to her children beat box (not well, I might add)—and is certain that angels have descended from Heaven to personally serenade her. In other words, she’s fantastic—and sure, to some, borderline insane. But to most of us, she’s just mom. Overly obsessive over every little thing her babies (grown or not), do.

As moms, we often suffer from a case of Beverly-syndrome. Where your child can do something so remotely simple—yet to you, a doting mother, it’s near perfection. I experience these moments “on the reg”—as to me, my baby girl can do no wrong. Just yesterday, I endured a moment that would make those without children (and some with children) cringe—but to me, it was priceless. Our little princess (side note: I used to hate when parents called their daughters “princess”—I get it now), who is still getting over her cold, stuck her finger right up her very, very snotty nose and proceeded to feed those delicious boogers to me. In pre-mom times, I would have gagged. But oh no! Not now. Now, I was certain that I was raising a genius. I was floored by the fact that she already knew how to share. How caring she is at just 9 months! I mean, she had one thing (albeit: boogers) and she gave them to ME! How much she must love me to give me the only gift she had to give! I am just the luckiest person in the entire world.

To that degree, I have a little shameless mommy-bragging to share. Last week, Lacey had her 9 month checkup. While discussing her developmental accomplishments, I mentioned to her pediatrician that she wasn’t crawling quite yet (but she could "army crawl" herself anywhere), and while she was able to pull herself up to stand and was willing to let go while standing—she wasn’t quite “cruising” yet. Our doctor told us to count our blessings that we would get a few more days of peace before we started having to chase our little mover-and-groover all over—and bet that she’d be cruising by next week.

Well, incase her looks weren’t enough to prove that she is her daddy’s daughter—she also seems to respond best to bets—just like her daddy (incase you didn't know, my husband will literally bet anyone on anything). Lacey took her doctors bet—and raised him: she took her first crawling steps that very afternoon. She crawled (3 whole steps!) to her push-walker, pulled herself up, and took 5 whole steps!

Told you: she’s a genius. ;)

Did your baby reach any knew milestones this week? Do you have any great “mother smother” stories of your own to share? Feel free to leave a comment and I will see you real soon.

--Lacey’s mama

Your Daily Dose of Lace--

Working hard on her blog:

Victory picture after her first steps with her walker (sorry it's blurry!):

 

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The Sick Cycle

Well, as the last few sniffles seemingly start to wind down in our house, I think I'm finally ready to get back to blogging-- hopefully without jinxing us this time.

The last week has been nothing short of exhausting. I thought we were done with this cold but that was so far from the case. As my husband and I started to get better, Lacey started to get worse. Her nose switched back and forth between being stuffed one minute-- and dripping the next. She'd have to interrupt her nursing sessions every couple of seconds, only to come up gasping for air. She was coughing, crying, and miserable. And by Friday night, she was starting to throw up. After an emergency weekend call to the on-call pediatrician, we were given the advice that parents everywhere dread: there's nothing we can do but to "wait it out and keep her hydrated."

On top of the vomiting, there was the poop situation. At first, there was no poop at all. For several days. And then... it came. Like a wrecccccking ball. Nonstop. Saturday was spent changing what felt like a record number of diapers: 14 poopy, smelly diapers in a matter of 9 hours. (Yes, I kept track). What a crappy day that was (pun intended!). Pretty hard to keep a baby hydrated when she's puking and pooping around the clock-- but we did it. By Sunday night, everything was finally starting to pass (again).

Throughout all of this, showering was (once again) placed at the bottom on my list of priorities. Sunday night marked Day 4 of "The Shower Draught"-- and I was covered in every type of bodily fluids imaginable. And then it happened. My nose started to run. The coughing returned.

I had managed to get sick again.

That's the problem with dealing with sicknesses in a family-- it's all too easy to pass the germs around again and again... and again. Especially when you're too caught up taking care of your little one to remember to take care of yourself.

Monday came, bright and early, and all I have to say is: Thank God for husbands. Over the next two days, Ross took over the daily Lacey activities and left me quarantined in our bed-- hoping to stop this cycle of sickness once and for all. We disinfected our apartment from top to bottom-- and after one last head-splitting, tear-causing migraine at 4 A.M. last night (again, thank God for hubbys who calm the crying baby while mommy stands under the scolding hot shower until every last drop of warm water drips); I'm truly praying that this is behind us.

And now we deal with the post-sickness apocalypse of an apartment we are calling "home." Seeing as someone in our house has literally been sick every day since we got back from Phoenix-- on January 1st(!)-- we've got more than a bit of housework to tackle. I literally still have suitcases left to unpack! And approximately 15 loads of laundry to do. It's so bad that I had to do an emergency load of laundry just so we had underoos to wear. It's seriously pathetic.

So, that's our week. We made it through! And we had some pretty exciting developments with our baby girl-- but I'll save those for another day. For now, hope all of you who have been sick (like, the entire country) are starting to get better and able to enjoy some slightly warmer weather. I know we're excited to venture back out into the outside world!

See you real soon,
Lacey's mama

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