OklahoMama

When it came time for the tiny human to turn 1 month old, I was struck with the realization that I didn't know what sort of photos I wanted to mark the passage of time. I knew I wanted to do some sort of photo every month that highlighted how she was changing, but I hadn't really decided on what. And in a fog of hormones with a still healing scar across my stomach in the throes of my new stay-at-home-mom life, this decision seemed to be of paramount importance. If I got it wrong now... I wouldn't have it right later. I couldn't just start halfway through with a new picture idea if I thought of something later. I needed to get this right. Unfortunately, at 1 month, the tiny human was still thoroughly enmeshed in her "but I want to be HELD" stage, and wasn't in the mood to be still and content while I fumbled through my first photo attempts. In the end, I decided on three photos to take every month. One with a sticker, one with a quilt that grandma

I'm pretty sure I've tried every swaddle on the planet. It has been quite the saga, but one that has taught me a great deal. Firstly- when we had the tiny human, I had no earthly idea about all the options there were available. I also didn't realize important swaddling would become to me, which probably explains why I didn't look at the options. Swaddling was just something that we might do, maybe, sometimes, I thought. Boy howdy. Was I ever wrong. At the very beginning, in the hospital and our first night home, we didn't bother swaddling the baby. Because one of us was holding the baby at all times. So, no swaddle necessary. Upon realizing that this was ultimately unsustainable... we decided to try to swaddle her and let her take a nap in her Rock N' Play. She seemed to dig that pretty well, so we decided that might be a good option for her night time sleep. We swaddled her tight in a blanket that I had to spread all across the bed, usually on the h

** This post is not for the faint of heart. It also isn't a medical opinion at all- so talk to someone who knows what they are talking about if you have questions. I'm only 90% sure of all of my details thanks to the magic of labor-forgetting hormones** Guys, I am petrified of needles. I get super nervous and nauseous every year the day I have to go get my flu shot, and work myself up into a tizzy about it even though it is NOT a big deal. At all. Its pathetic. Being pregnant involves more needles than I thought it would, but none so legendary as the epidural. In birthing class, I, and the other nervous mamas, gathered around the table to peer at the epidural kit to see how bad it was really going to be. Realization? Not at all. For some reason I was picturing a massive, Excalibur sized, needle that could skewer me straight through. Why? Because I have an overactive imagination, probably. And a huge. Fear. Of needles. The little kit included all the pieces, none of whic

We took an intense birthing class before the tiny human showed up. It was 8 weeks long, once a week for 3 hours. We covered everything from emotional health to where to get the best fuzzy socks (with traction) for your hospital bag. When we first walked in on the very first day, I balked. I felt awkward and out of place, since we were the least pregnant people there, and as anyone who has ever met me can attest, I don't always do super awesome with new people. I'm a strange combination of shy and weirdly sarcastic in new situations, which is definitely what every birthing class needs. I started feeling even MORE awkward when the instructor turned on relaxing music and told our husbands to massage our necks. And even more awkward than that when we went around the room to rate how relaxed we felt on a scale of 1-10. Relaxed? Are you kidding me? My blood pressure hasn't been this high in years. Right around that time... the instructor told us that we were welcome to bring

I always think that I'm not going to cut my hair. Post-wedding hair chop? Definitely not for me. I love my long hair. Its so pretty and great. I'm never going to cut it short again, because I always hate it, and why would I do that to myself? -- 3 days after honeymoon-- Yeah... it gotsta go. Chop. You'd think I would have learned by now... but then we wouldn't have the fun of discussing my idiocy on the blog, now would we. I had no intentions of cutting my hair post-baby. I was petrified of getting 'mom hair', and thus decided to keep my lengthy locks firmly attached to my head. I had nightmares about the SNL skit about the 'mom cut' (if you haven't seen it- look it up). I was 100% positive and sure that I was going to keep my hair long. (Photo credit to the incomparable Haley Rowell)  You see where this is going, don't you? It was one of those things that I knew was a mistake before I even did it. I read other people's accoun

You know those commercials about the difference between first time moms and second time moms? Where the mom is super stressed and over prepared with the first kid, and then totally chill and walking out the door with one diaper and a handful of puffs with the second kid? I hate those commercials. I am a first time mom, and as such I reserve the right to be over prepared. And a little crazy. And to hide in my house with my newborn during cold and flu season. And I am definitely not going to apologize. I think every mom has a different comfort level when it comes to stuff like that. Germs and going places and other kids and what is ok and not ok to have happen around baby. And I also don't really think there is a statute of limitations on how long we get a pass to feel that way. We're the mamas, I think we get to feel that way until we stop feeling that way. Which apparently will happen with the birth of kid 2, but maybe not. We have a massive family with lots of young ki

** The following is not for the faint of heart. Or, you know, men who will be scarred by me discussing feminine type things** For some reason, the title of this post sounds like a Hallmark movie. "When my water broke, the tale of a young man who falls in love with a girl up the river, only to have his heart broken." Spoiler alert: water breakage isn't a Hallmark movie. Second spoiler alert: This story is kind of gross, so maybe don't read it if you aren't ready for that. When I was in birthing class, our instructor suggested we carry puppy pee pads (the kind you use to train sweet little dogs who can't quite get the 'go outside' concept') everywhere with us when we hit 34 weeks. 34 weeks. Seems early, doesn't it? I sort of wrote off this advice for the most part, after all, didn't people keep telling me that only a small percentage of women's water actually breaks before labor? Like a weirdly small percentage in comparison to t

I mentioned that I read during night feedings. There is a very important reason why, other than to keep me awake. That reason being that if I don't have something else to do... I tend to buy things. Things I have ordered in the middle of the night since the tiny human was born: - Capri pants - Harem shorts - Printer ink (twice) - Diapers - A sun hat for baby - Flea meds for the dog (twice) - Toilet paper - Wipes - A baby scale - Baby clothes - Baby bows - My third pair of Teva sandals - Mother's milk tea - Fenugreek drink packets - 9 dresses (returned 7) - Diaper pail - 2 v-neck shirts - Toilet wands - Singing car mirror - Carseat toy - Baby headphones - Baby swim suit - Baby sunglasses - Dog collar - Taggy blankets - Bibs - Fleecy footie pajamas - Mobile - Stamps - Refills for diaper pail - Baby swimming pool - 6 types of swaddles (returned 4) - 4 kinds of teething toys - Matching bows for tiny human and me - A oven mitt that looks like

Everyone told me how fast time would go when the tiny human came out. Those last few weeks of pregnancy take place in the slowest time imaginable, like a slow motion montage of chubby ankles and empty bottles of antacid. Particularly the days after the due date... when I thought she could come at literally any moment. Time taunted me, waiting and waiting while I was desperate to meet my daughter. And then she was born. Immediately I wanted to bathe in every single moment. Even the hard ones. Even the middle of the night I haven't slept for more than an hour straight in a week moments. Even those. I grasped at them because I knew how they would disappear. I clutched the beautiful ones even tighter. The smiles and giggles. How she recently has decided that looming toward my face with her mouth open must be what a kiss is, because that's what she sees me do. About a thousand times a day, I think about how fast the seconds are flipping by. And I have to stop myself from walk

One of the things I worried the most about before having the tiny human was the night time. How would I cope with the lack of sleep. Would night feedings be hard? Would it be lonely? Would I sit up and cry in the dark because it was hard and lonely? The answer to most of the above questions was ultimately yes, but not all the time. I am not a night person. All throughout college, I went to bed early enough that everyone kind of made fun of me. 11? That was pushing it. 10? That's decent. 9? Now you are speaking my language. Because of my lack of night-owl-ness, I have never been overly fond of the dark. Nights do not feel friendly, they feel threatening and are not a place I want to hang out. Enter the tiny human. She was, most definitely, a night person when she came out. All tiny humans are. Well, they are pretty much round the clock people more so than night people, but they do love to party in the wee hours. Particularly when they are having some trouble gaining weig

There's nothing quite like having a little person come out of your body to make you feel like a helpless idiot. Partially because you ARE a helpless idiot thanks to drugs and lack of sleep, but also because starting life with a baby is akin to waking up in a foreign country without a map and no idea how to speak the language. Because the language is comprised mostly of screams and guttural noises that will scare the crap out of you 100% of the time. Don't worry. You'll learn your way around. Much more quickly than you expect, probably. After all, the citizen of guttural-cry-country already loves and thinks you are the best thing since breast milk. Thing 1: It isn't IF you need a lactation consultant. It is when.  All the literature I read before the tiny human arrived seemed to say 'if you need this resource, it is there'. Which is amazing- I can't imagine trying to learn some of this stuff without a teacher. But in my opinion... they should just go

I read a lot about newborn photos while I was pregnant. I researched photographers in our area and went back and forth about if I thought it was worth the expense. Pretty much everyone seemed to agree that they were glad they had bitten the bullet and paid up. These are moments you can't ever get back, they all said. But I wasn't sure that I wanted to spend several thousand dollars. For 10 photos. I am not a person who likes only having the perfect shots. I like having the messy shots, the selfies, the everyone is looking the wrong way, someone is sneezing, my hair is a hot mess and I'm glaring because I'm fighting with the husband shots. I like to remember life how it is. And I like a lot of photos to do it. I eventually decided to skip hiring a professional photographer. The husband has a cousin who likes photography and is great at it, so we asked her if she would come and do them instead. She agreed, so we paid her an enormous amount less than we would have pa