Lessons from the Terrible Twos

I am fairly certain that the specific events, situations, and phases we experience in life help shape the type of people we become. I have written before (here and here) about times that I believe God has used my current circumstances to teach me lessons and make me more like him. I really believe that the different seasons we go through (whether they are hard times, big milestones, new adventures, joyful moments, or just everyday monotony) are opportunities for us to improve ourselves, to grow, and ultimately to learn more about God and his relationship to us.

Winter is nothing, in comparison ;)

The trial joyful venture Blaine and I are living through right now is toddlerhood. The terrible twos are upon us and are threatening to break us at every turn. I thought I hated the newborn phase... that is a cakewalk. Give me thirty newborns over one 2 1/2 year old any day. 

No. Not really. Don't give me thirty newborns. Ever. Please. 

I just went into a really dark place thinking about multiple newborns at one time.

Anyway, I digress. I knew today wasn't going to be the best of days when Brock woke up at 6:40 this morning. The child used to sleep til 9:00 every day, but once his brother was born and he moved to a toddler bed, he now apparently wants to wake before the sun rises every morning. I was prepared for a difficult day. I was not prepared for a day filled with epic proportions of the terrible twos. Whining and screaming and crying (a little from both of us) and disobeying and defying and flipping out for no reason at all. That's what our day has looked like. And all of it before nap time! But during, quite possibly, the one peaceful moment we had at lunch time, I had a little revelation that kind of grew and grew in my mind (and eventually turned into this blog post).

A little voice said to me, "You are often like this toddler, Shelby." Not an audible voice. I'm not crazy (I don't think). Just kind of a thought that popped in there. I have been praying for patience and wisdom and calmness all day long, in my head and out loud. I have been praying for the past three weeks that we would love Brock well even through this difficult phase, that we would guide him and help him learn, that Blaine and I would be slow to anger and compassionate and understanding but consistent and right in our discipline. I swear it seems the more I have prayed, the more I have been tested and my patience has been stretched to impossible limits. But today, I looked at my defiant, disobedient, overly irrational, emotional little toddler and got a small glimpse of how I might look to God.

These are the things I want to say to Brock as a toddler or as a grown man, the things I want him to understand. But each one of these also seemed to be a truth that God wanted me to see about myself and about who he is. So these are the lessons (for Brock and for myself) from the terrible twos:

1. I am far more patient and merciful toward you than you deserve.    If you were not my child and if I didn't have this deep, abiding, unconditional love for you, I would probably tolerate a lot less of this nonsense and willful disobedience. My mercies are new every thirty minutes in my responses to you. There are some moments (like when you threw the tantrum of all tantrums because I put a shirt on you) that the only thing that keeps me calm and reasonable and not murderous is the fact that you are my son and I care deeply about you and love you more than you know.
   
   
2. It's okay to have bad days; It is not okay to treat others badly on your bad days.    Not every day is going to go well. Frustrating things will happen to you that you can't control. You may not feel great every day. Sickness, sadness, and crappy stuff will come. And I don't expect you to always have a happy face painted on. I don't expect you to fake your emotions and pretend you feel something that you don't actually feel. I want you to be real and genuine. But you do need to understand that you are not the only person in this world. You are not the only person in this family. There are others who have needs that must be met, even as you are having your bad day. There are others who need you to show mercy and compassion and patience toward them, even if everything isn't going your way. And there are probably others who are having much worse days than you are. So, on those bad days, stop focusing on yourself and see what you can do to make someone else's bad day better.
   
   
3. Patience and whining do not go together.    We tell you all the time to be patient. Sometimes I can't give you something the very moment you ask for it. Sometimes there are preparations that have to be made (like when I have to find a clean cup to put your milk in) or things that have to be put together (like that awful toy that I thought would come out of the box looking like it did in the picture but took an hour to build) or situations that are more urgent than yours (like your baby brother screaming his head off because he hasn't eaten in three hours). In these times, when you can't have what you want right when you want it, please know that patience is going to do a lot more than whining will. If I tell you to be patient, I want you to know that I have heard your request and I am going to act on it, but in the meantime I need you to wait contentedly and peacefully. Wait on me without whining or complaining or questioning or being angry or pitching a fit. Wait for me to get you what you need, and wait with a good attitude because if you are whining, you are not being patient.
   
   
4. My discipline comes from my love for you.    I know you feel like you get in trouble for everything (please refer back to number 1 though for the truth). I want you to know that I care about you and I love you and those are the reasons I create rules and boundaries and why you receive discipline. My love for you makes me want to help you learn how to be a good person, a loving person, a person who other people enjoy and want to be around. My love for you makes me persevere in my efforts to discipline you rather than handing you over to a pack of wild animals to fend for yourself. Sometimes the discipline is to develop your character (like when you have to share your toys with others). Sometimes the discipline is to correct your bad or wrong behaviors (like when you get a spanking for screaming at your parents). Sometimes the discipline is to teach you new things (like when you have to sit still and listen to instructions before you get to do something fun). And sometimes the discipline is to protect you from harm (like when I tell you not to stand in that chair that is looking wobbly and precariously close to falling over). The discipline is for different reasons at different times, but I want you to know that it always comes from a place of love and care for your well-being.
   
   
5. Your way isn't always the best way.    I know that's hard to understand. I know you think you've got it all figured out. I know you don't always want to do things the harder way, or the not fun way, or the tedious, boring, tiresome way. But sometimes the way I tell you to do things is better for you. It's a better plan, even if it doesn't look as appealing or as satisfying as what you have in mind.
   
   
6. You can trust me and my intentions for your life.    On the differences between your way and my way of doing things, I want you to be able to trust that my plan is for your good. I know you would rather eat five bags of gummy bears for dinner than anything I put on your plate, but I need you to realize that I know a little more than you and that I don't want you up at midnight puking sticky, half-digested gummy nastiness all over your sheets. I want something better than that for you. If I don't allow you to do something, it's generally because I am looking out for you. If I tell you not to run through the house with that butter knife, it's not because I don't want you to ever have any fun. It's because I don't want you to lose an eye when you inevitably trip over the dog or run into the kitchen cabinets. I have the best of intentions for your life, and you can trust that I am looking out for you.
   
   
7. You don't have to worry.    When you are hungry or tired or cold or sick, I feed you and give you a chance to rest and provide you warm clothes and get you medicine. When you have a need, I have always done and will always do my best to fulfill it. Remember last week when you didn't feel well and I held you and comforted you and gave you ibuprofen? Remember this morning when you said you wanted breakfast and you didn't have to worry about whether or not there would be food to eat or whether I would actually give it to you? Well, keep those things and all the others in your mind when you start to get upset and impatient and distressed about something you need. I always do my best to take care of you, and you have no need to worry.
   
   
8. I love you.    This is probably not even necessary to say since it has been mentioned in just about every other lesson above, but I'm going to repeat it one more time in case you didn't get it. I love you. You are a part of me. You stole a serious portion of my heart when you were created almost three years ago, and you continue to amaze me every day with the things you learn and the person you are becoming. Everything I do for you, every action I take, every lesson I teach you, and everything I give or withhold or take away is done out of a deep, incomprehensible, unimaginable love I have for you. You are mine, and I want you to know that although I am not always pleased with your behavior and I am sometimes exhausted and frustrated by your inability to do the right thing or remember the lesson I have tried to teach you 2,000 times already, there is nothing you can ever do to earn or lose my love. You are and always will be my child, and I love you.

I am, by no means, remotely close to being as patient, merciful, wise, just, and good as God the creator of the universe, but if I can feel these things toward my children (even in an imperfect, limited sense), how much more are they likely to be true about God the creator of my soul and very being. Now, I need to try to start acting less like a toddler and more like an obedient child who brings honor and glory and joy to her Father. 

Interesting, refining process this whole parenthood thing can be.

Conversations With a 2 Year Old

Brock's verbal skills have really been fascinating to Blaine and me over the past month. He has been a talker from kind of an early age (this was him saying some of the alphabet at 17 months), and it has always been neat to me to hear him learning new words and new rules of language. Over the past few weeks though, it seems like his speech has become so much more grown-up. It's nothing for him to string together a 10-word sentence now, and we can practically have whole conversations with him. It has been really interesting to us because it's like we occasionally get a look into his little mind. Sometimes he just gets stuck in repeat mode though and will only copy what we are saying, which is a little frustrating because it goes something like this:

"Do you need to go potty?"
"Need to go potty"

"Is that a yes or no?"

"Yes or no"

"Brock, do you need to potty?"

"To potty?"

"Ok, go sit on the potty, Brock"

"Noooo, Brock's not need to go potty!"

Aside from those episodes though, we've heard some interesting little sentences lately. I wanted to post them to the blog, one, because I think they're pretty entertaining, but also because I really want to remember what his little toddler self talked like (in case his little teenager self says much less endearing things).

Sometimes we will ask him to pray before bed or before our meals. This is how that goes:

"God, fanks for today, fanks for the food, fank you for Mommy and Daddy and Roman and Brock and Piper. Fanks for play. Amen"

He prays the same thing every time (thanking God for the food even at bedtime). I also like how he thanks God for himself. And that last one, "thanks for play" took us a while to figure out. We thought he was thanking God for the time he got to play or something, but after I blessed the meal one night, we realized what it was he was trying to say: "In Jesus' name I pray"

While eating a snack together in his room one afternoon:

"Mommy, eat the cheez-it!"

"They're all gone."

"Mommy, eat the cheez-it!!"

"We ate them all Brock. There aren't any more in the bowl."

"Mommy! Go downstairs and get some more cheez-its out of the box."

Oh, I wasn't aware you had figured out how that works.

One of my least favorites:

"Hey Mom, Brock's poo-pooed in da floor! I get a BIIIIIGGGGG treat!"

No, son, I'm not sure you've quite figured out how this works yet.

Blaine and I like to ask Brock on random occasions who loves him, and he'll usually go through a list, "Mommys wuvs you; Daddys wuvs you; Jesus wuvs you; Romans wuvs you; Pipers wuvs you" (he always adds an 's' at the end of everyone's name for some reason). This was how it went the other day:

"Hey Brock, who loves you?"

"Tow-maters wuvs you"

We're very into the Cars characters right now.

While having a discussion about how to act around other people:

"Brock, when someone says hi to you, say hi back. If someone is talking to you, be nice to them. Don't say, 'Mommy, Mommy, Mommy' over and over. It makes you seem like a weirdo."

"No, I not a weirdo."

"I know you're not, but when your family or your friends talk to you and you just say Mommy and hide behind me, they might think you're a weirdo."

"No, Mommy, I not a weirdo. Weirdos at church."

Hmmmm.... that is not where I saw this conversation going.

Upon finding a store receipt in the floor:

"Hey Mommy! Here's your twenty-hundred dollars!"

No clue where he got that, but every receipt he finds is "twenty-hundred dollars"

Blaine has always told Brock that blood was just cherry juice, I think in an effort to lessen the fear that comes from a busted lip or scraped knee. The other night at dinner Blaine was trying to explain to Brock why he needed to sit still in his booster seat:

"Son, if you keep rocking forward like that, you might break the strap on your chair. Then if the strap breaks and you're throwing yourself forward, you're going to either fall out of your chair or fall forward and hit your face on the table, and either way there will probably be a lot of cherry juice."

"Oooh, cherry like a ICEE! Can I have a ICEE?"

Blaine always gives him long, detailed explanations and then shakes his head in dismay when he realizes what Brock takes away from them.

"Mommy's gotta eat Roman" when I have to feed Roman

"Look Mommy, Roman's dripping" when Roman spits up

"Hey little brother. Did you sleep good?" when Roman wakes from a nap

And finally...
"Hey Mommy, Brock's making milk. Vooo-tish, voooo-tish..." as he sticks one of my breastpump parts to his stomach and pushes his belly out. (Vooo-tish is a robot/machine noise he learned from his daddy's plethora of sound effects)

I can't wait to see what else we hear from that mouth in the future.

Roman - Three Months

No doctor appointment this month, so I'm not sure how much Roman weighs or how long he is now, but he's definitely gaining and looks like a little like this guy

Here's some of the stuff that was going on between the second and third month:

• He started wearing 0-3 month size clothes at the beginning of this month (or around the end of the 2nd month, I can't remember), but he's really about to outgrow those. I had to get out the 3-6 month sizes and wash them up for his little fat self. He seems to be growing at a faster rate than Brock did. Or maybe I just let Brock's clothes get uncomfortably small before I moved him up to bigger sizes. Who knows. 
• Roman also moved up to size 2 diapers this month. A word on diapers: I thought that I preferred Huggies over Pampers and have even mentioned this to a few friends who are expecting babies. I remembered Brock always having explosive poops that would go up the back (and out) of his diaper when he was wearing Pampers. This doesn't happen with Huggies because they have a little tab across the back of the diaper that kind of catches the poop (which indicates this must be a common problem with babies). I also feel like Huggies are more absorbent with pee. However, I am finding with Roman that Huggies diapers leak really bad around the leg openings and Pampers are much better at holding it in down there. So we apparently need some kind of Huggies/Pampers hybrid that will combine the best of both worlds. I also came to the definite conclusion this month that I could not do cloth diapering (not that I was ever really unsure, but ya know). Brock is potty training and has done pretty well with it, but he did have a really large, messy number 2 accident in his underwear a few days ago. Blaine and I were both cleaning it up, and I was gagging and trying not to be grossed out about picking it up after it fell out of his underwear (how do you take them off without it going everywhere?!). As I was standing there holding the dirty underwear as far away from myself as possible and trying to determine what I should do with it now (spray it with a hose? put it in the dirty clothes? soak it in the toilet?), I just decided we could buy more underwear and this was not worth salvaging, so it went in the trash. Yes, I know, that is so ridiculous and wasteful, and this is the reason that our landfills are overflowing, and I'm so selfish not thinking about the future generations and all that. I'm sorry... I just don't like dealing with poop. If I can't flush it or wrap it up and throw it away, then I don't want to know about it. 
• Anyway, back to Roman... he became super social this month. He constantly talks and coos and makes all kinds of vocal noises. He will stop nursing just to babble, like he all of a sudden thought of some great story he needs to tell me about. It's one of my favorite things. Brock didn't really get vocal until closer to 4 months and even then it wasn't constant, but Roman is a little chatterbox.
• A few times this month, he woke from his naps happy and talking rather than screaming for food, so that's kind of fun.
• This is not a very Mom thing to say, but I think Roman has gotten a lot cuter this month. He's outgrowing the odd alien newborn features and starting to look more like what the movies show newborn babies looking like.
• He's gaining more arm control and likes to stuff blankets or burp cloths in his mouth with his hands. We're still swaddling him, but we started using the Woombie swaddle during the second month because it gives him more wiggle room. I had tried using it from birth, but with both of my boys, I had to wait til closer to the one/two month mark before we really liked it. So we used the velcro swaddles or just blanket swaddles first then graduated to the Woombie. I tried swaddling Roman with one arm out a couple of times this month, but for now he still sleeps better with them both in.
• The projectile vomit/spit up has stopped I think. He hasn't done it in a while. In general, he is spitting up less frequently too, though it's still on a daily basis. Gas doesn't seem to bother or affect him as much now either.
• We've still been having problems with short naps this month. We experienced the 45 minute intruder a lot, which is something I learned about here. I think he had a growth spurt in the middle of the month because he was wanting to eat more, but then he just kept waking early after it was over. Figuring out a good amount of wake time has helped some (usually no more than 50 minutes to an hour), but we haven't quite gotten it perfected.
• He found his fists and fingers and started chewing on them a lot this month. It makes a big, soggy, drooling mess, but there's no stopping him. I should also mention that he has always disliked the pacifier. Other than the first few days after he was born, he absolutely will not take one. I have tried over and over to get him to accept one, but it just makes him angry and he gags on it, so I guess we'll probably have another thumb-sucker.
• While Brock all of a sudden started sleeping through the night at 9 weeks, Roman has been slowly extending his night sleep over time. At 12 weeks, he started consistently sleeping 6-7 hours a night with no feedings. Brock was more abrupt about it, so that's what I was expecting with Roman, but he has been more gradual. 
• This month Roman started to show a little more interest in and fascination with Brock. He's becoming more aware of his surroundings and all that's going on around him (which makes it fun to feed him), and he seems to really like watching his brother. Brock loves to put on shows for him too, so it works out pretty well.
• I'm really happy that we have another pretty content child. Right now he is even better than Brock was because Brock was always really happy only until he got hungry or sleepy, then there was no consoling him. If someone is holding Roman, he is pretty much content and happy even if he needs to eat or sleep, and if he has been fed and had his nap, he'll just chill wherever you put him. This probably means we should stop having children because there's no way we can get lucky and have a third good one.

I think that's mostly all that has happened over the past month. Some of the boring details I'm recording are for my own future reference because there have been things with Roman that I couldn't remember whether or not Brock did too, so I'm just writing it all down now (in case we are dumb enough to try our luck on that third baby). 

And now some pictures...

Brock was insistent on getting in the chair with Roman while I was trying to take Roman's 3-month picture. Once I took a few of just Roman, I let Brock get up with him and these are what resulted. 

This is the "Staring off into space in opposite directions" shot...

This is what happened when I told Brock to put his arm around Roman...

This is what happened when I said, "Say cheese..."

This is what happened when I told Brock to give his brother love...

And this one just happened spontaneously...

Finally, the monthly photo comparison...

Cell Phone Photo Dump (2nd Edition)

It's probably hard to believe if you're my Facebook friend or Instagram follower, but I don't actually post EVERY picture I take of my kids. I do post a lot, but I try to limit myself to only a couple a week and only the most amusing ones because I know that no one else really cares how long my toddler's hair has grown or how chunky my 3 month old is now. Anyway, I was clearing off some space on my phone tonight and found a few little gems that I wanted to save but didn't want to leave on my phone and didn't want to overwhelm my friends' Facebook news feed with. So to the blog they go...

                                                   

Brotherly affection... This will probably only last a short, short time unfortunately.

                                    

All swaddled up

Pondering deep philosophical thoughts while watching Yo Gabba Gabba or Pocoyo

I love this one. His cousin Anna has a baby doll stroller and then this little miniature baby stroller. She was pushing the normal-sized one and he grabbed this one and started following her. A video would have been funnier, but this was all we could get.

           

This one and the one below go in the "Monkey See, Monkey Do" series. He loves imitating his dad. Blaine was doing some special kind of push-ups with his legs on the couch so Brock went to the stairs (in the background) and put his legs up to do his own version of the push-ups.

Blaine, for whatever reason, laid down in the driveway one afternoon and Brock ran over to do the same.

He likes squishing himself into Roman's car seat, along with his buddy Pocoyo.

This one is a little hard to see, but I peeked in Brock's room one day during his naptime and he had fallen asleep sideways with his whole body on his pillow (note his feet sticking out through the slats of the safety rail). Also, he apparently covers his face with his blankie to sleep now.

I feel I should point out that I am completely aware of the unbalanced ratio of Brock pictures to Roman pictures. This is not (as Brock may try to claim in the future) due to the fact that I like or love Brock more. It is simply because Roman does little else but sleep for about 18 of the 24 hours in each day, and when he is awake, he doesn't have quite the variety of photographic moments that his brother does (meaning all he really does is just lay there and smile on occasion). But no worries, I love you too, my little second-born. 

Roman - Two Months

Roman is 3 months old now, and I am just getting to his 2 month old update. So goes our life these days. Between a toddler and a two three month old, working a full-time job, keeping my house in minimum living condition, and being a wife, there are days when I feel like it is all I can do to keep my head above water. There are also days when I'm tempted just to go under and drown. Only kidding... kind of. I'm still adjusting to everything and still working on finding our groove, but we're getting there.

I am not a big fan of the first year. There are just so many constant changes and developments that always seem to throw them off and mess up their sleeping or their eating. It seems like after the first year, everything kind of falls into place and things get easier. So, I'll just hang in there for another 9 months... Of course, then they turn 2 and make you want to tear your hair out and run from the house screaming, "Stop saying Mommy!!!!" Ahhh, so much fun these little people are.

Anyway, all that to say, here were some things that were going on with Roman between months 1 and 2 (I kept track of things but just never got around to putting them all together in a post; his 3 month post will hopefully be on time).

• At his 2 month checkup, he was 23 inches long and about 12 and a half pounds. He had to get his first set of shots at that appointment, and I don't know why I didn't remember how miserable they made Brock, but I didn't give him Tylenol immediately afterward and he woke up from his nap screaming inconsolably. He wouldn't eat and barely even wanted to be held, and he kept making the most pitiful face I've ever seen which broke my heart. After about 24 hours or so he seemed to be over the worst, but I have got to remember to pre-medicate him before the pain really sets in.
• His first real smile was at 5 weeks, and he has barely stopped smiling since. He's a really happy baby for the most part.
• His first laugh was at 7 weeks. I didn't write down what it was that made him laugh, so I can't remember, but usually he just gets tickled by some random face or noise we make.
• He slept through the night (10:00-6:00) once at 9 weeks (which is actually in the third month I think), but then he went back to a pattern of waking once in the night to eat around 2:30 or 3:00. He usually would go 4-5 hours at night and 2.5-3 hours during the day between feedings that month.
• At some point during that month (maybe like 6 weeks or so), he stopped taking a bottle. He just wouldn't latch on and would gag on the nipples. I did some searching online and spent $15 on a set of bottles called Breastflow that have some fancy nipple that is supposed to mimic breastfeeding, and Roman basically said, "Sorry, but you just wasted $15, Mom." Then I did more online searching and found some people had success with the Playtex orthodontic latex nurser nipple for Playtex drop-ins (which is the type of bottles we had originally used). Of course, no one sells those nipples anymore... I think maybe because they're not up to the non-BPA standards or something. But being the bad mom that I am and not caring too much about BPA but caring very much about not being the only person able to feed my child, I found some on eBay (they were unused... I'm not that bad of a mom). So for like six bucks, I ordered those and they seem to be working well so far. Except that he won't eat for Blaine... He'll take a bottle from anyone else (even me!) but refuses to eat when Blaine tries to give him one. Odd.
• Naps got kind of crappy this month. The first month was great; he'd take 2 hour naps and sleep perfectly. Then during the second month, he started waking every 30 to 45 minutes crying. Usually it was because of gas or spit up, but once he was awake he wouldn't really go back to sleep in the crib. So I started just moving him to the swing to finish his nap and he would usually get at least another hour or so.
• Because of the gas and spit up, I thought I'd try gripe water. I never used it with Brock. The Mylicon gas drops seemed to be enough for him, but they didn't really do much to help Roman, so after some more online searching (thank goodness for Google), I decided to give the gripe water a try. I spent like $12 on a big bottle from Amazon which only resulted in him projectile vomiting all over the place. He had been having projectile spit up about once a week and the doctor said it was nothing to worry about as long as he didn't do it after every feeding. I tried the gripe water 3 or 4 times and every time, it made him throw up, a lot. So.... that was apparently another $12 wasted. I did, however, find that dipping a pacifier in it and letting him suck it off would instantly cure his hiccups, so maybe it wasn't a complete waste.
• He had some really dry, flaky skin on his face and scalp that month and the baby Aquaphor cleared it up pretty well. I have to use Aveeno baby wash on him because the other kinds dry his skin out pretty bad.
• This is more related to myself than to Roman, but I wanted to make note that pretty much all the pain/discomfort associated with nursing went away during that month (probably by about 6 or 7 weeks). This was sooner than it was the first time I nursed (it took more like 3 months with Brock).

I think that's mostly all that was going on up to the 2nd month mark. I was kind of complaining a lot up there at the beginning of this post, but I should say that I am not suffering from postpartum depression, and we are all doing well. It's just a lot of work, and sometimes I miss being a teenager (when I thought life was hard) and getting to sleep in all the time and not worry about anyone but myself. But I really am grateful for my two boys, and they make me smile more than they make me cry (or scream or say bad words or want to curl up in the fetal position). They bring us a lot of joy and pride, and Blaine and I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world, not even an all-expense paid, year-long vacation in Hawaii where we could just sleep and eat all day and never do anything and still not gain any weight (although we might deliberate on it for a day or two before we made the decision).

(Confession: His 2 month picture was actually taken closer to 2.5 months, but it's still within the month, so it counts)

Roman - One Month

I really like having Brock's monthly posts to go back and look at, so I want to try to do the same for Roman over the course of his first year. I'm a week behind already, but Brock's first monthly post was late too so I'm just being consistent.

We went for Roman's one month checkup last Thursday, and he now weighs 9 pounds, 10 ounces! He was 6 lbs, 13 oz at birth, dropped down to 6 lbs, 7 oz before we left the hospital with him, and then gained back up to 7 lbs by his one week checkup. But in three weeks, he has gained almost three pounds, the little fatty. I think this is mostly due to my overactive milk supply (it's ridiculous really and slightly unfortunate for me because I think I'd have to feed an entire continent of babies in order to actually burn any calories from breastfeeding). But he's clearly a good eater, and I'm thankful to have had two babies who did well with this whole nursing thing. He also measured 21.5 inches now, so he has gained an inch and a half since birth. I'm not looking up the whole percentile rank thing this time around because I really just don't care as much anymore about comparing my children to the averages (I also haven't googled any milestone checks this first month either or worried that Roman might be autistic because he won't look me in the eyes yet. I'm a completely different mom this second time.)

Here is some of what Roman has done this first month:

• He eats every 2.5-3 hours for about 20 minutes at a time. The pediatrician told us to feed him every 2.5 hours during the day and don't let him sleep more than 2 hours at a time so that he'll get his days and nights straightened out. That worked pretty well because he had several nights where he would go 5 or 6 hours between feedings. I've moved him more to a 3 hour schedule during the day now though because I felt like all I was doing all day long was nursing him.
• I wake him for the last feeding at about 10:00 at night and then I let him wake himself. He usually wakes up sometime around 2:30 and then again around 6:15, so he goes about 4 hours between feedings at night.
• He had a growth spurt around 3 weeks so he was waking up more frequently to eat. Since I knew to watch for it this time around and knew not to fight against it, I just fed him more often, and it was over after about a day or so.
• We moved him out of the bassinet in our room and into the crib in his room at about 3 weeks. Here's a distinct difference between the first-born and the second-born. Brock stayed in our room until he was 5 weeks old. If I hadn't had a c-section and had been more mobile, Roman probably would've been in his room the first week. He'll be better off for it though. I can't wait to see how his little personality will be, but I already think he'll be more resilient and confident than Brock just because it has become clear to me how much we coddle and worry over our first babies.
• He spits up, a lot, just like his brother did. I'm going through 4 or 5 burp cloths a day. This is another symptom of my hyperlactation, and it's annoying, but I guess it's a good problem to have.
• He usually poops after every feeding, so we've almost gone through 250 diapers in one month. Literally. I have a 106-count box of diapers that we've just about finished off, and we used up about 5 packs with at least 25 diapers in each of them. It's a lot. I'm sorry to the future generations and to the landfill. But I'm not cleaning 8-10 poopy cloth diapers a day in my sleep-deprived, exhausted state. I'm just not doing it.
• His umbilical stump (yuck) fell off after about 2 weeks, so he had his first real bath after that. (I'm only recording this because I didn't write down when Brock's fell off, and I kept wondering with Roman how much longer it would take.) I felt guilty because I kind of kept forgetting to give him his sponge bath those first two weeks. Three days would go by, and I'd be like, "Oh, crap, Roman needs a bath!" But babycenter.com made me feel better when I read that newborns really only need to be bathed every other day. We've gotten into a routine now, so he should smell baby fresh to anyone who holds him in the future (or he might smell like spit up because he particularly likes to do that after I've washed him).
• The newborn size clothes started fitting him at about 2 weeks. Before that, they were just enormous on him, which is crazy because they looked so tiny before he was born. He outgrew the newborn size diapers (they started leaking) around 2.5 weeks so he's using size 1 now.
• He does NOT like for me to pick his nose, which is a shame because I really enjoy it for some reason. But he will scream if I don't get the booger out on the first try. I went back and read one of Brock's monthly posts and saw that I loved picking his nose too. So... I'm a weirdo.
• He might be an even easier baby than Brock was, and I felt like Brock was a pretty easy baby. He is really content and only cries if he has gas or if he's hungry (or if I'm picking his nose). He sleeps great and is just really easy-going so far. And I am counting my blessings because I thought for sure I used up my good-baby card on my first one. But he's great!

I don't want to always compare them to each other, but I did want to put their one month pictures side-by-side. Roman is a lot more alert than Brock was at this age, but Brock was born three weeks early, so I think he had a little catching up to do. My two little guys...

                                         
       

      

                                         

Now, a few things about me I want to record in case there is a next time (the verdict is still out on whether we can have any more babies and keep our sanity):

• I could lay on my side about 3 days after coming home so about one week after surgery. What is ridiculous is that I had to lay on my side for like the previous 8 months and really just wanted to be able to sleep on my back or my stomach again. Then I have the baby and can only lay on my back but just want to be able to sleep on my side again. The grass is always greener...
• I started being able to move at normal speeds by about 1 week after surgery but still had to take it easy. If I moved or walked around too much, I would be more sore.
• I stopped needing the prescription strength ibuprofen (I didn't fill my prescription for the heavier pain-killers) around 2 weeks post-op, and the majority of my pain was mostly gone by 3 weeks.
• My incision healed up by the 2 week checkup, and you can't even see anything there now other than a faint little line.
• Nursing pain was starting to ease up by the end of the month, and I wasn't having to use the Lanolin as frequently, but it did hurt a lot in the beginning like it did with Brock. Most of my engorgement issues resolved themselves after a couple of weeks too, but I didn't pump at all this time around because I wanted my supply to base itself solely off of Roman's demands.

The Little Foxes (A Lesson in Marriage)

Marriage is hard.
Marriage with one kid is really hard.
Marriage with two kids is really, really hard.
Marriage with more than two kids... I can't say from experience, but in my opinion, these are the real superheroes who should be having blockbuster movies made about them.

Having my husband home with me on summer break the past month has been a huge blessing. I'm so grateful that he has a job that has allowed him to be here while we have a newborn, so that we all can adjust with a little more ease, and I don't feel like I'm having to handle it all on my own. As much as he is my best friend and I adore him though, we can drive each other a little crazy and really get under each other's skin. Being together pretty much all day, every day for the past month has provided more opportunities for us to get irritated with one another and more chances for us to vent that frustration to each other. Now, those of you who are reading this because you think I'm about to air all of the Vandegriffs' dirty laundry, you'll be disappointed to find out that that is not, in fact, what this blog post is about (and then I want you to examine yourself to try to figure out why you were so excited that you thought that's what was about to happen). Unlike that one special Facebook friend we all have who loves to post the ridiculous dramatic happenings in their relationships every ten minutes, I actually have a working filter, and I know that it would not benefit anyone to talk specifically about the negative things in my personal life. Suffice it to say, there are negatives. And I think it's okay to say that because I am a human. Blaine is a human. I'm assuming you are a human too if you're reading this (unless maybe this is 40 years into the future and our artificially intelligent computers have finally gained sentience). So as humans, we all know we are imperfect, and as imperfect humans, we are all going to make mistakes. And when there are mistakes, there are negative outcomes. So, yes, shocking as it may be, I don't have the perfect life. I am not the perfect woman. My husband is not the perfect man. And our kids are not the perfect kids. (Although if you've ever read any other blog posts I've written, you would have no reason to have thought any of us were perfect in the first place).

So if I'm not about to tell you all the ways Blaine and I have gotten on each other's nerves this past month, and I'm not about to publicly vent any specific negative details about my husband, you may be asking (if you're actually still reading and weren't just here for the drama), "What is the point of this post?" Well, this post is the result of a thought process that started when my husband and I got really frustrated with each other today, and I stormed off to take a shower and stew on my angry thoughts but while in the shower came to some conclusions about myself and my marriage that I wanted to write down to remember in the future.

My general thoughts when I got in the shower were along the lines of: "How dare he?" "Look at all the stuff that I do and take care of," "I would never say such and such," "I would never do such and such," "I am such a selfless, good, thoughtful, [insert any other positive adjective] wife and mother," "What a jerk," "I'm going to stay in this shower for an hour and let him deal with our offspring himself," "I am giving him the silent treatment the rest of the day" (big punishment, I know).

Then in the midst of that self-affirming, husband-accusing stream of consciousness, this thought quietly inserted itself: Catch the little foxes. But I kept going with that other flow of thought for a few more minutes because it made me feel good. Once again the phrase interrupted me: Catch the little foxes. I still resisted, but the thought was getting louder, and the husband-bashing was making me feel guilty now. CATCH THE LITTLE FOXES. Ok, Ok, I've got it!

Now, before you think I'm clinically insane and have multiple personalities or hear voices, let me explain. There's a book called Song of Songs (sometimes Song of Solomon) in the Bible that is about a couple and their love story, their courtship, their marriage, their intimacy, and even some of their struggles. In chapter 2 of that book, there is a verse (vs 15) that says, "Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom." There are, of course, different interpretations about what this means and what exactly the foxes are, but several years ago I listened to a sermon series on the Song of Songs, and one of the messages was about this particular section in the book. (Here is a link to the specific message I'm talking about, and you can also access the other messages on the entire book from that website. It's really a great series worth listening to, married or unmarried). In that message, the pastor refers to the little foxes as, "those seemingly small sins that sneak into a marriage and create disunity." My little foxes were running amok while I stood there in the shower mentally proclaiming my innocence and my husband's awfulness. My little foxes, upon closer examination, were feelings of pride and arrogance, unrealistic expectations, selfishness, a dishonest or unrealistic view of my own self and the role I play in our disagreements or differences, and the forgotten realization that I and my husband are imperfect humans with a nature of sinfulness that has to be overcome on a regular basis. Those little foxes were having a field day in my head, and I was just opening the gate wide and welcoming them into our vineyard (our marriage). Once the realization sank in and I knew what I was doing was wrong and harmful to my relationship with my husband, I prayed to God right there to help me catch those stupid foxes.

So I set out to catch them one by one. I calmed down, I stepped outside of the focus on ME, and I gained a new perspective. Was I justified in my frustration? Maybe. Did I handle the situation appropriately? Not really. Did I contribute to the problem? Definitely. Was I some innocent victim? Nope. Was I trying to play the part of an innocent victim? Yep. Would staying angry about this benefit anyone? Absolutely not. Then I went into the specific details (which I will not go into here) and examined why I reacted the way I did, what was I really upset about, and how could I have handled it all differently and more productively?

Clearly the shower ended up going a little long, but it really wasn't out of spite. It was a cleansing process (Ha Ha).

I would like to go ahead and insert a little disclaimer here that our argument wasn't about some earth-shattering, marriage-ending problem. It may or may not have had something to do with nap time and a turkey sandwich. But that's how tricky those little foxes are. We know not to cheat on each other or lie to each other. The marriage-ending potential for those actions is pretty clear. But fighting about a turkey sandwich and our 2 year old's nap time, well that's a little more sneaky but can have just as devastating effects.

So I caught the foxes and was then reminded of the passage in the Bible I had read only 3 days ago during my devotional time. I'm going through the book of 1 Corinthians and read chapter 13 just this past Monday. When I stood there (yes, still in the shower) thinking about how I was acting toward Blaine, it wasn't measuring up very well to the standard of love laid out in the Bible (vs 4-6):

• Was I being patient? (No)
• Was I being kind? (No)
• Was I being jealous or boastful or proud? (Definitely proud, and I definitely boasted in my mind about how great I was)
• Was I rude? (Yeah)
• Was I demanding my own way? (Ha! That was the start of the whole problem!)
• Was I being irritable? (Yep)
• Was I keeping a record of wrong? (Yeah, if I'm honest, I think I had actually been mentally tallying up every time he had done this specific thing over the past few days)
• Was I rejoicing over injustice or rejoicing when the truth wins out? (I didn't want the truth to win because then I would have to admit I was a little wrong)

But the passage concludes: "Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance." (vs 7) 

So here's what I concluded... I wasn't acting lovingly toward Blaine, but I do love Blaine, and I needed to change my actions to truly show it. 

Here's what I concluded... I can't control Blaine; I can only control myself and how I react. I tell him this all the time when he's driving and he gets mad at another driver, but I wasn't listening to my own obnoxious advice as I tried to control how Blaine should've acted and how he should've handled our argument instead of focusing on myself and my contribution to the problem. 

Here's what I concluded... It's really hard to love the right way. It's easy when things are going the way I want them to, but when circumstances don't go the way I expect, when I haven't had more than 3 hours of consecutive sleep for over a month, when I have a demanding toddler and a demanding newborn, when I just want to sit down and eat a whole cake but I don't have the excuse of being pregnant anymore so I have to practice self-control... well, those are the times when it's a little bit harder to love the right way. But it's no less important in those times if I want my marriage to "endure every circumstance".

Here's what I concluded... I'm a sinful person. Even though I have been saved from those sins by Jesus' redeeming work on the cross, and I am no longer a slave to sin, and even though my heart has been made new and has forgiveness, I still have a human nature that seeks its own comforts and its own demands and its own happiness. I have to ask God every day to help me keep my sinful inclinations in check, to help me promote and desire the happiness of others over my own selfish desires, to show love to others like He showed love to me by allowing His Son to die for me.

Here's what I concluded... my marriage is worth that effort. I made a covenant with Blaine to love him and be committed to him and to our marriage for the rest of our lives, and it takes work. It takes more work with two kids than it did when it was just us. But the reward is worth the effort, and I refuse to let the foxes win.