Another Month Bites the Dust...

My last post was on June 29th... which means it's been a month of no-blogging. Not surprising, I'm sure, to any readers left. (Are there any of you left??)

This month, just like the one before it, has gone by quickly. We're somewhat settling into a better routine here at home. Casey is attending school just three days a week (Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday) while I snuggle with Finlay and try to devote a lot of one-on-one time to him (though I'll admit that I often use these days to catch up on cleaning house, starting projects that will inevitably never be finished, and so on). On Mondays and Thursdays, I try to plan at least one fun out-of-the-house activity for Casey's sake (even if it's sometimes as simple as walking to the playground or having "splash day" in our own yard), and we both make time to sit and relax together in the moments that Finlay demands our (my) attention. I dreaded Mondays and Thursdays for the first few weeks of Finlay's life, simply because I wasn't use to juggling two children at once - and wasn't yet skilled at getting Casey to independently play (instead of getting into trouble) when necessary. (I also wasn't prepared back then for how to react when she'd hit Finlay. Yes, we dealt with a two-year-old hitting a two-week-old once or twice.) But I think that all of us are getting the hang of our new family.

Even Tee Jay has had to adjust, of course. His responsibilities have shifted somewhat (though certainly not lessened!). Before I had Fin, Tee Jay would arrive home around 4:15, relax, play on the computer, and then cook up a delicious dinner while watching his little kitchen TV. Casey and I would arrive home near 6:00 and be ready to eat, play, bathe, and hit the hay. Now when Tee Jay gets home, there is zero "alone time" available to him normally (except for the rare occasion when Fin and I have already headed out to pick up Casey on our own). He sits for about five minutes (usually holding the baby) before driving to NJ to get the girl. They arrive home and eat a meal that I have cooked. So though he's off the hook in the kitchen for the next few months, Tee Jay is still doing an incredible amount of housework (because my "housecleaning" moments on days alone with Finlay are pretty small, despite my feeling of accomplishment) and co-parenting (because two kids are a LOT of work, I tell ya!).

Finlay has been doing great, and we're finally seeing a little bit of "chub" developing on him. I wouldn't say he has rolls yet, but lines are starting to show on his arms and legs and I know those delicious, want-to-gobble-them-up rolls are coming soon. Though he looks completely proportionate to me, each time he's next to another baby near his age, Finlay's head looks so much smaller. He certainly doesn't have the hanging cheeks that Casey had... maybe they're still to come. He usually drinks from a bottle (of pumped milk) once a day so that when I return to work, he'll be a seasoned pro at switching from the breast to the bottle and back again.

I almost don't want to post this, in case it jinxes us in the future, but Fin has not yet hit a colicky phase, which Casey entered into at 6 weeks old (and didn't get out of until 12 weeks). He is more alert during the daytime (we had several smiley staring contests today), but is still a big napper. It makes me nervous that maybe he should be awake more, because I honestly cannot remember what Casey was like at this age, but then I think that he's probably exactly where he should be at this point. In the evenings, Casey is normally asleep (or at least in bed) around 7:30, and I nurse Finlay around 8:00 or 8:30. At that point, he goes down pretty easily into his co-sleeper and snoozes for about 5 to 5 1/2 hours. I nurse him again, and he's up next about 3 hours later. Let me tell you, this is a welcome routine! Casey didn't sleep this soundly until she was WELL over a year old. Granted, I know things are bound to change any day, but I'll take what I can get at this point.

I'll write more soon about our recent trip to RI and NH, as well as Finlay's one month stats (just in time for his two month checkup) as well as our "monthly" photos... which have a different spin from Casey's monthly in-the-glider shots.

Perspectives...

I posted on Facebook yesterday that as terrible as it might sound, I've sort of been hating my maternity leave so far.

Sounds bitter. Mean. Not very nice-mommy-like. And ever so slightly "postpartum blues," right? I really don't think it's the blues at all. Just a real statement that probably a lot of moms feel (whether it's kiddo #1 or #2 or more).

I mean, I love love LOVE Finlay. He's super cute, makes all kinds of squeaking noises and little smiles, and absolutely lights up his older sister's world. (His errant hand will graze her face as she literally plants down on top of him, and she'll squeal in delight, "Mommy! Finlay touched me! FINLAY TOUCHED ME!!!")

When we first arrived home from the hospital, I was moving slow and taking things easy, due to the c-section and normal after-birth recovery necessary to any mother. We had family here in town, and when they left, along came my mom (and her fiance) and my sister for the weekend. Finally alone as a family of four the following week, I developed a sinus headache but figured it would go away soon enough on its own. Tee Jay was off from work that whole week, and we enjoyed our time together, despite my occasional complaint of "Why can't my head stop killing me?"

At the end of that week, on my first night of sleeping on Finlay's side of the bed, I strained my neck in wanting to watch and attend to him... and therefore pulled a muscle, which has resulted in nearly two weeks of subsequent pain. And I'm not just talking a little dull throbbing here and there. I was experiencing massive, major pain that would radiate up into my skull. The kind of pain that you can't just sit around and "take." The kind that definitely warrants some medication.

I put myself back on a regular dosage of Motrin (having been on it initially for the c-section healing) and booked an appointment at the doctor's office, where I was also prescribed an antibiotic for what was confirmed to most probably be a sinus infection. My doctor also wrote a script for a c-spine x-ray (as a "just in case" if I continued to be in severe pain by the end of this week) and taught me a couple of ways that he'd like me to sleep to best support the neck. (Tee Jay has subsequently moved back to Finlay's side of the bed for now, and he dutifully wakes up to hand me the baby for nursing throughout the night, bless his heart.)

Among the antibiotic and its corresponding acidophilus, pain medication, Colace, and prenatal vitamins, there were days when I was taking 17 pills in total. Casey has begun counting my dosages for me when I take them, and she asked in the car this morning, "Your neck and head hurt?" because there's no escaping Christina-complaints in this household. Everyone knows that mommy hasn't been up to par.

Tee Jay began to feel ill (stomach-wise) at work on Monday and ended up having a co-worker drive him home after he made a couple of failed attempts to venture there himself. Within two hours of his being snug on the couch, I too was sick, and I spent the better part of that evening vomiting wherever I could make it (the utility sink, Casey's potty, and thankfully often the toilet - where normal people choose to do such a thing). I felt a deep despair that night, crying, praying that God would send one of our mothers to our doorstep, wondering how on earth we'd manage to take care of two children while sick. Once the stomach bug passed (we are very appreciative that it seemed to be a 12-hour thing), I moaned that my neck and head still felt like they were literally exploding. I complained that I didn't know how I'd manage to keep two children happy all by myself on Thursday (when Casey is not in day care). I cried that I felt like I was failing as a mother and not being able to truly just enjoy my children and my time home with them.

And while I know my feelings were all valid and normal, especially when you add post-pregnancy hormones into the mix, last night I made a conscious decision to try to put things into a different perspective and just "offer it up."

Growing up, my mom often told us that when times seemed really hard, one of our options was to "offer it up" for someone or something else. As in offering up our own pain to God (essentially just "dealing" with it) for the sake of a suffering friend, the unborn children in this world, a special intention, or so on. It may not have always been easy, but there is a power in the human brain that allows us to focus our energy away from our own trials when focusing on prayer for another's tribulation. So it usually worked, and it's a phrase I've heard myself and both of my sisters mention in our adulthood.

I didn't need to look far in "offering it up" last night.

First off, my baby boy turned three weeks old on Monday, and that day it dawned on me that he'd officially lived for one day longer than my friend Lori's baby Sofia (for whom I requested prayers back in February). Lori and her husband, while they'd never brought a baby home before and probably didn't know all the mess and emotion they were in store for, anticipated their daughter's arrival with joy and excitement. When a labor-and-delivery complication cut off Sofie's air supply and left her in a vegetative state (for lack of a better term), they prayed with all their might that some miracle could happen and reverse the effects of the disastrous delivery. They stayed in the hospital for 20 days (Lori literally never left it, and I'm not sure if Mike did either) and watched their still little daughter with all the love and determination they could muster. When they brought her home to let her pass peacefully surrounded by the love (and nursery) they had prepared for her there, they were able to experience what was probably the most beautiful but excruciating event any parent ever could imagine. Since that day, Lori's online posts reflect a lot of pain, a lot of slow healing, and a lot of honesty. And while she hasn't had to deal with chapped breasts, or been drained by a baby waking up all night long, or tried to juggle a toddler and an infant at the same time , or worried about what a particular cry might indicate, I know that she'd trade her situation for all of the new mother woes in the universe. So I offer my pain up for Lori.

I also found out last night that my cousin Justin will soon be deployed to Afghanistan, leaving his wife, their 20-month-old son Jackson and their 3-week-old son Griffin (born just three days after Finlay) in their housing in Germany. I cried last night for Justin and the boys, but mostly for Ali, who will too soon be handling single-parenthood while also worrying about her husband's well-being. I told Tee Jay that for all the head- and neck- and stomach-aches in the world, I cannot imagine his leaving me in another country to take care of both kids and fend for myself. I absolutely don't think that I am a strong enough person to do it, and I wonder where Ali will get her strength. So I offer up my pain for her, too, hoping that by doing so, a little bit of the courage she'll need is coming from my prayers.

I guess it's all about perspective... and I think I'm finally ready to embrace my new one and learn to enjoy all the blessings I have, no matter if my head is pounding or not.

He's Here!...

Well, 13 days later (and what else is new with such a blog slacker?), I'm happy to announce that

Finlay August Boudreau

joined our family! He arrived on Monday, June 6, 2011 at 8:12AM, weighing in at 7lbs,15oz and measuring 20in long. (My heaviest baby so far, but not my tallest.)

Finlay was delivered via a scheduled c-section (a decision that Tee Jay and I made several months earlier due to the fact that I'd had a c-section with Casey and preferred a repeat surgery to aid in having childcare and other details arranged ahead of time).

The evening before his birth, Tee Jay's mom, my dad, and my stepmother were all here in Philly with us, and we had a lovely dinner with them. Casey knew that her baby brother was going to be born the following day (she'd known for months that a) he was coming in June, b) a doctor would be taking him out of Mommy's belly, and c) that Grandma would bring her to the hospital to see us), and there was a definite excitement in the air.


I also experienced some apprehension that night, scared that something could potentially go wrong, that Finlay might not be healthy, that my relationship with Casey would never again be exactly like it was. Somehow, both Tee Jay and I finally fell asleep for a few short hours before we began our 4:30AM journey to the hospital.

There, I was hooked up to some monitors, administered an IV, and asked many questions. We met with the anesthesiologist and were finally ready to go. The surgery was scheduled to begin at 7:30AM, but due to some complications with another delivery (an unplanned c-section being whisked into the room next to ours), we didn't make headway until 8:01AM... and as you now know, Finlay was born just several minutes later.

Our poor little guy was scrunched way up high in my belly, and the two attending physicians manually pushed him down (pulling on my entire body basically) and then even used the vacuum briefly on the crown of Finlay's head. But he was delivered successfully and healthily, and to be honest, I felt better than even after my past c-section. (Yahoo! for that.)

I'll post more soon, but in the meantime, here he is!

Giddyup, Cowgirl!...

I hate that I haven't blogged in so long. I hate that my sister, mother to four children (and one on the way!) is far better at keeping up with hers than I am with mine. I hate that I make promises to "catch up" on the blogging... but don't seem to ever deliver on the promise.

Excuses excuses excuses - including the fact that our computer has been "putzing out" on us for several months' time (requiring lots of backing up to an external hard-drive, which in turn then leaves me without my photos readily available) - they just don't really cut it.

So now while Tee Jay and Casey are napping (and my churning belly lets me know that Finlay most definitely is NOT), instead of waiting to get two-year-birthday and Easter and Christmas and other photos off the other hard-drive and uploaded to this newly working PC, I'll just share with you our little outing from today.

CANTER YOUR HORSES!

Casey and I share really nice rides to-and-from her daycare five days a week, and along those trips we get to see two sheep (in the same enclosure) and many, many horses (among a handful of farms). Lately, she's becoming more and more insistent, with her finger pointed in the air like a scolding parent mind you: "I want to go in there." This request/demand is always made when we pass one particular farm, and it's followed by, "Mommy, talk to Daddy. I want to go in there with the horses."

So I did talk to Tee Jay to find out if he thought there was a place we could go nearby that has horses just-for-the-seeing, since it's not like I'm ready (or have the money) to get my two-year-old into riding lessons (though I'd venture to say my first time on a horse was probably earlier than Casey's age now, having been raised by a Mom who took a "trail ride" with my grandfather nearly every Sunday when we lived in West Virginia). While he and I started looking online for possibilities, I stumbled across the website for the exact farm that inspired Casey to want to "go in there" and realized they were having an Open House TODAY!

We ventured out to Majoda Stables and spent a good two+ hours there, mostly spending our time snacking on hot dogs and hamburgers and walking to-and-from the barn and the bench near the riding ring. We learned very early in our day that Casey did NOT want to be anywhere near the horses themselves (not even the goats or the adorable soft bunny rabbit named Cheezit), but she LOVED watching the horses and the children riding them... from a safe distance. (That is, she loved watching them once she got over her fear that one of the many horses behind a fenced enclosure might come eat her hot dog out of her hand. A five-year-old'ish girl next to her explained all about how horses are vegetarians...)




Casey took a special liking to one horse named Cinnamon while I spent most of my time petting a horse named Jack inside the barn. The whole ride home, our sleepy girl asked us to sing songs about horses, sheep, Cinnamon and Jack. As afraid as she was at times there on the farm, I think she'll be begging us to go back soon!

Seeing Blue...

So, in chronological order (of exciting news in our household!), I'll try to play "catch up" with back-blogging.

The first exciting thing we have to announce is that many, many weeks ago (egads - it was two months ago!), we had an anatomy scan of our little BouBerry, and... it's a BOY!

We are excited to be welcoming Finlay August Boudreau into our home at some point in early-June.

Finlay (pronounced Fin-Lee) is a name of Irish/Scottish descent, and we chose it simply because we've liked it for quite some time.

August, on the other hand, carries more sentimental value, since we chose it from my (Christina's) family tree - on my dad's side. August F. Grummich was born August 28, 1833 in Aushca, Bohemia (now Ustek, Czech Republic) and died June 25, 1911 in St. Louis, MO - he is our little guy Finlay's maternal great-great-great-great-grandfather.

Just this past weekend, we encountered a most pleasant surprise when Tee Jay’s grandmother (on his dad’s side) told us that the only grandfather she ever knew was Auguste (the French spelling) Bernier. Auguste Bernier is Finlay’s paternal great-great-great-grandfather.

Therefore, while Casey’s middle name represents her grandmothers (Susanne is her middle name – for Susan and Leslie Anne), Finlay’s middle name represents his grandfathers’ families.

In an even better twist of fate, Tee Jay has been working diligently on his 2011 Philadelphia International Flower Show exhibit, “Rediscovering Rodin” (which began this past Saturday). Tee Jay didn’t personally create the interpretation for his display this year, so he paid little attention to the details about Rodin himself, focusing mainly (and understandably so) on the design, the plant forcing, the creation of his “Thinker” topiary, etc. When his grandmother, sister and I arrived at the show on Saturday, we were all stunned to read the signage about the famous sculptor, Auguste Rodin. (It’s meant to be!)

We'll post more about our boy Fin when he arrives, of course!

Fervent Prayers...

I know we've been MIA for like longer-than-ever... and we'll be back soon, I promise.

But for today, please please please PRAY YOUR VALENTINES' HEARTS OUT for an old friend Lori, who with her husband Mike, are bringing home their 20-day-old daughter ~sweetheart Sofia Isabella~ so that Sofie can pass away peacefully in the comfort of her parents' arms and warmth of the beautiful nursery they prepared for her so long ago.

My hardest task this morning was picking which pants Casey should wear to her Valentine party at school, and I therefore cannot imagine the terror, anguish, and anger that will be present in Lori and Mike's day or upcoming days (and their families' as well).

Our prayers are intended for them, fervently, and I ask that yours be also.

What Goodies!...

When I first saw Casey through the doorway of her classroom this afternoon, I could tell her hair was differently styled than when I dropped her off this morning. It looked so cute from the front, but the real surprise came when she turned around, touching her hair and lovingly saying "Emily" (giving credit to her beloved teacher, who gave her the hairstyle), and showed off the two most adorable first-ever braids a little girl has had!

Seriously, I've never even THOUGHT about braiding any portion of Casey's hair - errrr... rather, I didn't think it was possible to do so yet. But man, did I love it!!!

We remembered to grab some quick pics in the tub before suds and water washed her braids away:



To add more excitement to the evening, a package was awaiting us when Casey and I arrived home (Tee Jay having been patient and leaving it unopened - even though it was technically addressed to him). It was from my Granny and Gogron in West Virginia, and ohhhhhhh... was it ever good!

First off, how totally awesome is it to get mail???? (We had also received our first photo holiday card of the season - super cute, Owen!!) But mail in the form of a brown paper package filled with goodies from West Virginia lovies? THE BEST! I won't list every little gift the box contained, but let's just say that we three Philly Bous exclaimed each step of the way, and Casey is already loving her little "look and find" book.



Tee Jay and I whole-heartedly agree that the pièce de résistance is this super hip and oh-so-sentimental "cake taker" which once belonged to my great-grandmother Stella. The cake taker is much older than I am and graced my Granny and Gogron's home on McQueen Boulevard the many times Stella brought a cake there. (Tear jerker! Family heirloom!)


Thank you, thank you, thank you, Granny - for packaging up such wonderful gifts! We love you and Gogron more than words could ever say!!