Being a Mom

I’ll never forget the time my mom asked me for a bite of my Mickey mouse ice cream on a stick and I refused.  She took the ice cream right out of my hand, took a bite, and proceeded to eat the rest of it while I threw a mighty of all tantrums on the hard wood floor, pounding my fists in revolt and anger, yelling at the top of my lungs and crying out for mercy. 

To this day, I have never forgotten to first offer my mom a bite of anything I am having as long as she is nearby.  Ever.  A little bit out of respect.  A little bit out of fear. 

And now as I am in a similar stage of motherhood, trying my hardest not to yell and scream and demand why my son has decided to poop in his pants when he knows very well how to make his way to the toilet, I wonder in retrospect, why I can’t seem to be a bit more calm.  I wonder why I can’t remember I am damaging a bit of his self esteem with my over zealous yelling and I wonder why I can’t recall the calm composed nature I told myself I’d be when the day started. 

I’ve never been an emotional crying type of mom.  While other moms were basking in the cuteness of their firstborns, I was wondering when I would fall in love with this little wrinkly being that kept crying and pooping.  Motherhood wasn’t natural to me, in fact it was overwhelming, uncomfortable, and suffocating at times.  Instead of feeling sad when my kids cried themselves to sleep, I wondered how long it would take, only seeming to have a bit of compassion when my husband was nearby and even more strict than me.  Instead of crying when my kids got their monthly shots, I logically tried to explain to them that the pain would go away shortly (my oldest never seemed to care, my youngest had his face turn beet red everytime).       

And now that I’m almost three years into it with two kids, I seem to have softened and feel this thing called love a lot more consistently towards my own kids.  But now, now I  have to remind myself to be more patient.  To be more loving.  To be careful when I am teaching with a disapproving taint.  It’s a hard balance between disciplining and loving, establishing rules and principles, enforcing them, and also being the loving mother that I want to be. 

Nobody likes to fail.  I sure don’t.  I’m pretty sure my son doesn’t either.  And yet as I think back to that moment tonight when I was just so angry, yelling, questioning him about why he had decided to poop a nasty diarrhea consistency blob of a poop in his undies (which also transferred to his pants and all over the bathroom floor as he made his way out of his clothes), all I can see is my anger and his sadness.  I’ve read all the articles about how to control your anger with kids, how to commit beforehand not to get upset and plan for how you’ll react.  But you know what?  Easier said than done.  Because in the moment as I was scrubbing away stinky poop and telling him he should not be doing this, I couldn’t for the life of me fathom how to lovingly help him and be more nurturing and positively reinforce his potty training abilities.  All I could do was err in anger and apologize later, tell him I’m sorry and hope he’ll forgive me and not remember his mother as the scary demon who would put on her angel halo after all the steam had cleared.  And the other part of me is wondering if I should have just stuck to my guns and been the mean mom to help him remember it more. 

I’m not quite sure. 

Motherhood is so incredibly hard sometimes.  Tonight seems to be one of those nights.  As soon as I cleaned the poop up… my other son peed all over the carpet for the millisecond he was naked between diapers, and then proceeded to poop right after (his third poop of the day).  Someone please tell me, when is this poopy stage of motherhood over?  And why does it all have to happen the one night my husband is working late?! 

Life With Kids....

It's not always pretty or fun or even clean for that matter, but is always quite awesome.  We are having so many fun moments everyday and I am enjoying being a stay at home mom more and more everyday.  I am really lucky to have a part-time job that I can do from home and recognizing that more and more with each passing day.  There are some days when I really don't want to balance both work and being at home anymore - when I wish I was 100% working or 100% at home but overall those moments are far and few these days.  I really am enjoying being home with the boys and I love grabbing my camera to capture some of it.

It makes me think that having one child is great - but for my personality type (whatever that may be), it is so much better to have two.  To have two to be busy with, to play with, to be there for, and the more the merrier!!!  To see them interact (I know - it will be fighting one day...) is so amazing and really just tickles my heart.  To see them sit there and make sounds at each other and then laugh - it is hands down my favorite thing to observe.  I love that my sons love each other and I hope they always love each other, support each other, and are each other's best friends.

So This Is What It Feels Like!

I was quite nervous during my weekly call this morning.  Jordan's been potty training and though he's had success, it's been met with accidents as well.  He had pooped once in the potty but who knew if it was luck or not?!

I came out of the room in between calls and noticed he was already in the bathroom...on his own.  What?  Kristy, Andy's cousin who comes to help me out during my conference calls, was nowhere near.  I saw she was in the living room but wasn't sure why she wasn't in the bathroom with him.  I had given her explicit instructions to continually ask him if he needed to go pee pee or poo poo and advised Jordan that we do not pee pee or poo poo in our undies.  Maybe he was playing "pee pee" or "poo poo" (where he goes in and makes a sound like he is peeing but nothing comes out, takes some toilet paper, puts it into the toilet, and flushes).  I asked him if he was pee peeing and right as I did, I heard a tiny tinkle and then he said, "yeah, but I done" as he started to go for the toilet paper.  As I reached over to help him, I noticed some pretty big poop in the toilet!  How happy I was... not only had he PEED and POOPED, but he had gotten the initiative to go ALL ON HIS OWN.  I couldn't believe it.  I've never been so proud of my kid.  So I figured... if this is how poop feels like... I wonder what everything else feels like!  I'm hoping it's not the peak, but it sure felt good.

Of course, we're still having accidents - but the fact that I didn't have to clean up poop from the undies today makes it a great day.  I can't wait to see what it feels like when my kid accomplishes other milestones just as great and independent as peeing and pooping!

For the record, he has been potty training since Thursday, and has gotten 11 pee pee stickers and 2 poo poo stickers.  Way to go Jordan!  Keep it up because potty training while we travel is going to be quite interesting....

The scary thing is.. Andy and I got to talking and we discussed how you really just have to wait until the child is ready.  Our kid was clearly not ready the other 3 times because even after preparing and reading all the 3 day training guides and forums online, our child was simply not ready.  We aren't really doing anything differently, but he seems to get it now.

If that's the case... is that how the rest of child raising is going to be?  Will my child need some time to be ready to go to college and become financially independent and responsible?  How much can I prepare and help him and how much will it be just him deciding yes or no?  Kind of scary to think we are just a bit of an influence (we certainly kept talking to him about being a big boy and using the potty which is more than not talking about it at all right...?) - give 'em wings and let them fly... but fall they may and crash they might.  Yikes!  Parenthood is one scary feat and the learning curve sure is steep, but boy does it feel good to know they've accomplished something that you helped encourage.  

p.s. He decided to stop using that little potty (thank goodness!) and instead use the big boy potty with one of those lil seats that go on top - much easier to clean and the restroom has stopped smelling like a typical public mens' restroom (used a pretty solid combination of baking soda, lemon juice and vinegar to wipe down that bad boy), and when we're out without the seat, he likes to stand on the seat (though I've been afraid of his shoes falling in a couple of times).

Apparently I'm a Symbol...

Sometimes I wonder if my mom gave my name much thought - but she actually just named me after a fellow co-worker she admired.  I was doing some volunteer work for the Power of Moms website and came across this on their "About Us" page.  HA!

What is the significance of the daisy on the Power of Moms logo?

Is a daisy a very “powerful” symbol?  Well, we did have that whole “flower power” thing going on in the 60′s…

Daisies are tough flowers. They don’t wimp out easily and they out-last just about any other flower in the vase. They don’t attract the most attention out of all the flowers at the stand, but they are consistently beautiful, bright, and happy. The daisy (named in the 17th century by Carolis Linnaeus) represents purity and innocence. Moms are the bearers of and leaders of the pure and the innocent.

American colonists treated cuts and bruises with a daisy lotion, and American books from the late 30s still refer to the daisy’s medical power for hearts. Daisies are described as durable, adaptable, and as a symbol for excellence. Mothers, like daisies, heal cuts, bruises, and hearts. They are tough, adaptable, and committed to excellence in all areas of their lives.

We love daisies.

I knew I loved the Power of Moms for a reason.  In a weird narcissitic way, probably because of their logo...! 

They're having a Utah County retreat in Highland soon and I'm helping out - excited to be a part of this amazing website again.  I hope some people I know end up going!  Everyone who really wants to go is probably too busy.  I know it's hard to find time .. but it is worth it.  I come back wanting to be a better mother every time and always have lots more ideas for how to do it. If you're in the Utah area, you should join me by getting more info here

How Do You Do It?

Those five words should be a compliment of sorts, but the reality is, whenever someone asks me how I do it (stay home with two kids, work, and whatever else I find myself interested in ... photoshop, budgeting, organizing, cleaning, etc.), I secretly am thinking and laughing to myself... if only they knew.  My secret......?  I sacrifice hygiene.  Yeah, it's pretty disgusting and rather pathetic to admit, but it's the truth.  I don't wear make-up everyday consistently, I sometimes forget to brush my teeth, my hair is a nightmare, my favorite go-to outfit is jeans with a big ol' sweatshirt, I barely shower until I really need to (you'd be surprised how long you can go when you're just kicking it at home all day long), and I live in my baggy Lululemons (kind of fancy, but not if you've seen mine) that are too long and make me trip sometimes - but I don't care, they're just too fabulously comfortable to care!  The only thing I am quite particular about is getting my kids diapers' changed every morning before breakfast, changed into real clothes after breakfast before we head out (if we head out), and lathering onto my own face: toner, serum, moisturizer, and SPF 25.  Yes, I'm a typical Asian - we take our skincare very seriously... well, at least I do! 

When I was working, I always took my showers at night, slept with wet hair in hopes of it coming out fantastic in the morning or being wet enough that I could style it with it only actually doing that miraculously 1 out of every 10 times.  So on the all hands office meeting days when I would actually make the sacrifice to wake up early to shower and do my hair, I would get these odd compliments about if I had just gotten my hair cut or changed it somehow.  Go figure.  

When I began working out consistently and not just for a lousy 10 minutes (mid 20's), I began investing in some fancy work out gear and found myself showering a lot because if you really work out, you can't really get away without a full shower.  That was probably an anomaly in my life to date.  And these days.. even if I do sweat, by the time I get the kids all in order and home to a shower, the sweat has dried off and I seem to forget that I'm in need of one.  Yuck right?  Truth!

When I was dating Andy and I met his family for the first time as his "girlfriend," I'd shower and do my hair everyday.  I remember thinking as I was getting ready one time, looking into the mirror in his sister's bathroom, how odd that I was putting so much effort into getting ready when this would not be a normal part of my day in the future.  But when everyone in the family showers a lot, you kinda feel pressured into doing the same.  Needless to say, how quick we fall... I sure hope Andy doesn't mind or doesn't think his wife has let herself go, because she kind of has.  

The exception would be when I'm back visiting Arcasia and with my mom.  There are high standards for the rare chance that you run into someone you used to know in high school or one of your mom's friends and *gasp, heaven forbid, you embarrass your mother because you aren't looking fabulous and like you were still in college (the good third and fourth year, not the freshman 20 really tired studying for finals kind).  So it makes me laugh when I think about how Andy has chillaxed to my level of laid back slothfulness and how we lost our luggage once and had to hang out all day in Arcasia with him in Nike sweat and Sperry boat shoes.  It was not a pretty look and I feel bad admitting that even I was a bit nervous to go out with him in fear of running into anyone I knew from high school.  HAHAHA.  He kept asking me why I cared.  I couldn't quite explain that it was just a different standard in Arcasia.  Puh-lease, I have a reputation to uphold here right?  HAHAHAHAHA.  

Why do we care so much about what other people think sometimes?  I'm not sure I know the answer, but I do care from time to time.... it ebbs and flows...and I'll let you in on a little secret... even when I'm in my baggy Lulus, I think I look pretty smoking hot.  Those pants sure are flattering, me thinks, though they probably are not.  Even when I'm sporting jeans with a big ol' sweatshirt, I'm thinking - yeah, I wear this sweatshirt well, a sweatshirt never looked so good before!  But I think that is the key to success and confidence sometimes... thinking you got it when you might not.  

At least that's how motherhood and parenthood works sometimes.  HA!  So in conclusion, I don't really do it.  Nobody really does it.  They just fake it until they make it.  

Mommy the Pushover

Hi, my name's Mommy, the pushover, so nice to meet you.

Every Wednesday, well...almost every Wednesday, Andy goes to play basketball during the boy's bedtime.  Every Wednesday, like a fool, I have grand expectations of all the things I'll do in my free time whether it's on the computer, in the house, or whilst watching television.  Instead, every Wednesday, I battle with my two children for almost two hours as I wait for them to fall asleep.

Normally, we read some books, brush Jordan's teeth, read scriptures, pray, and then play whatever game Jordan desires.  If I'm lucky, it's just a "come sleep with me while I fall asleep" game. And Bubba will fall asleep while nursing and then transition easily to his crib.  I can't remember the last time that happened even if it was just last week.  Because the truth is, every awful encounter (which seems the norm lately) has me wondering why me?! why me?! ugh!  ugh!  Ahhh!!!  JUST GO TO SLEEEP SONSSSSSSSSSS!!!

Today, Bubba decided he didn't want to be on his own.  Anytime I put him into the crib, he shrieked in pain and started to cry.  Jordan decided he would help me soothe and calm Bubba.  Everytime I told Bubby not to do this or that or to go to sleep, an echo was heard from Jordan.  He mimicked my every move, even when I sat up against his wall on his bed to tell HIM (Jordan) to go to sleep, he thought I was telling BUBBA to go to sleep and he copied me again.  Imitation is the highest form of flattery right?  I remembered looking at the walls, wondering when my night time routine became a battle of GO TO SLEEP.  I don't even remember what it's like to be without kids and just go to sleep cuz I feel like it without worrying about them going to sleep.  I mean, at what point does a child realize the fight to sleep is actually a luxury that isn't worth rebelling against?

Cries from Bubba.  Silliness from Jordan.  He got up and started marching around.  Asking me questions about why Bubba wouldn't go to sleep.  The irony of it all.  "Sun down Bubba, just go to sleep Bubby!" he would tell him.  Meanwhile, Bubba's screams would subside for a few seconds when he thought Jordan or I was playing with him through the gaps of his crib when in reality I (followed immediately by Jordan) was sternly advising him to go to sleep.  A few coos were heard from Bubba followed by very obvious attempts to cry and lure himself back into my embrace.  I wouldn't fall for that!  Then Jordan asked me to turn off his light.  The very light that he needs on or he won't fall asleep because it's too dark.  I wasn't born yesterday Jordan!  I ain't falling for that!  Then he marched around, and all I could think of was how hard I was trying not to laugh right outloud.  Where does he get this from?  Oh yeah, me maybe... but still.  Then, he told me he was sad.  When asked why, he told me because I wouldn't go sleep with him despite me laying there and him just laughing or hugging me on and off, anything to avoid that dreadful thing called sleep. And then I'd ask him to close his eyes and he'd close em, then flutter them and then sit up and stare at Bubba with his mouth wide open as if to say, "oh no!  why isn't he asleep?!"  My silly billy.  

Yawns.  Eyes starting to close.  And then, with a jolt, "I wanna sleep with you Mommy."  Okay, so let's go lie down together.  "I wanna sleep with you in Mommy and Daddy's room," ... see it never ends.  I can't win.  Even after we told Bubba he wasn't allowed to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's room.  So I did what anyone would do.  I came to my computer to blog about it and Jordan circled me for a few minutes... asked me to go sleep with him.. and then, exhausted (at last), he retreated to bed.  Without me so much as asking or suggesting or coaxing.. just all on his own.

So maybe we need to move their bedtimes back a bit?  But no, then where would our routine (the one where we START putting them to bed at the same time, go?)

And here I am...
The clothes still aren't washed.  The dishes still aren't put away.  The work I have left still isn't done.  No TV has been watched.  But I tell you, the minute they are asleep and I see their sweet sleeping faces, it's as if all the awfulness from the night has been erased.  Time is still as I stare at the two best things I've ever done in this life.  Tabula Rasa.  And we'll start it all over again next Wednesday.  Same time.  Same place.

Sincerely,
Mommy the Pushover

cuz this would never happen with Andy.

Also, I just was about to go check on Jordan when I heard him say, "B...Y...U...Cougars!" and then he chanted it three more times.  .......

Day 1

I have just finished day one of the seven night stretch leading up to the end of night float and our transitional year and the beginning of a long move to the next four years of residency in beautiful Utah. This morning, as I sit here typing away and eagerly awaiting Andy's return from Scout Camp, the morning light is shining through the blinds and both my children are peacefully sleeping at 8:30 AM.  Unlike yesterday's disaster of a morning, today is calm and oh so nice. Granted getting here was a rough patch last night from 8 PM until 10 PM of Jordan not wanting to sleep, turning on the lights, and crying when I got fed up and took him into his room (the only room that locks around here), locked the door, and lay in the bed next to him as he cried for who knows how long.... we all eventually ended up in my room with Bubba in the pack n play and Jordan in bed next to me.

Today is nice.  Sooo nice.  If I were a reality show, there'd be awesome music playing nice.  I nursed Bubba throughout the night in between bottles, and woke up not feeling quite the cow I did yesterday.  It is tricky with Bubba because of his premie status, every doctor and nurse warning us to add more nursing sessions slowly as he grows.  At 9 lbs, I think that means I can try more, yet I'm always afraid and hesitant since he does start to gasp for air (even though the monitor says he's still breathing) and tires out a lot quicker than Jordan did.  Slowly, we'll get there.  

Today I am reminded of the sweet love my oldest has shown towards our youngest so far and the serenity and pure joy that comes from having two cutie patooties to love.  At 7 AM, when Bubba was crying, Jordan woke up in a hazy daze and said "Bubba cry" and then rolled over and  grinned a silly one as he closed his eyes and grabbed his blanket to return to sleep.  Jordan is absolutely enthralled with his baby brother.  He will tell us "Bubba drip" if Bubba spits up or is dripping milk from his mouth, tells us "Bubba play" when he wants to bring his toys over to play with Bubba (which we have repeatedly tried to tell him hard toys are not okay because who knows when he'll throw something his way!), and he'll ask "Where are you Bubba?!" when he wakes up in his own room (rare form these days).  Today, as we were moving more stuff, he found two of his Disney Cars cars and as I was changing Bubba, he decided to give Bubba his blue car.  When Bubba did not grasp for the car and lay there as a baby ought to, he changed his mind to red car, and wanted to see if Bubba wanted that one instead.  Bubba did not.  But soon, I told Jordan.  Give him some time and I'm sure he'll want it.  That, or they both will be screaming "MINE!!!!" ...

Joys of Motherhood With Two

All my friends who had two kids all warned me how tired I'd be.  Fatigue beyond belief.  But nobody ever warned me about those ultimate defeat moments.

Let me try to shed some light on one recent ultimate defeat.

This morning.

Bubba is hungry and I awaken to his screaming hunger pains to find my shirt is drenched with milk from my cow udders that have gone for 4.5 hours without being milked.  I am alone with my 2 year old sleeping next to me, sprawled across the bed really, because my husband is working nights at the hospital and it's just too hard to put him to sleep in his bed when he can open doors, run out, and well.. yes I gave up and let him sleep in my bed.  It's been 4.5 hours since I last was up, in a daze of half awake, half asleep, changing and feeding Bubba.  He is a sweetheart of a baby too, letting me sleep from 2 AM until 6 AM when he decides he's had enough.  I stick a binky in it.  Seems to do the trick.

Nope... spoke too soon.  He looses his binky.  He yells.  Screeches really.  I run out to the kitchen as soon as the binky is in and warm up a bottle for him, all while dripping all over our rental apartment's carpet (another reason I tell my husband we need hardwood floor in our future house.. the milk just settles into the carpet and you can sniff your way to it.. but it's hard to clean if you don't quite know where it is).  I run back to the room to pump, getting all my parts together, only to see my two year old is now sitting up in bed, staring out the window, still half asleep but on his way to fully awake.  Mommy is engorged beyond belief and probably should have set an alarm to get up earlier..what can I say.. I chose sleep over pain.  Hoping my two year old will be oblivious to my pumping antics, I gear up and think I've got it under control.  Two year old is in a haze of trying to wake up and the one month old is happily sucking on his binky and I am about to pump.

Then in a blink of an eye it all changes.  Bubba's binky falls out yet again.  Jordan's decided he wants the "purple iPhone" to play with.  He also tells me "Bubba cry" everytime the binky falls out.  It seem sto happen a few times.  I've only been pumping for five minutes, but that's exactly when one side overfills the now tiny 2 oz bottle catching the milk.  I lean over again and again to put Bubba's binky back in, drip a ton of milk on self and carpet, hear Jordan whining for the iPhone and decide fine - and hand it over to him reluctantly.  Get a few seconds of peace while Jordan is playing before he tells me it's broke because it's out of battery.  I'm sorry, I tell my son.  Maybe you can just play with something else or go back to sleep?  "No sleep!" he tells me.  He peers over at the bottle catching my milk and tells me, "milk all gone" because the new bottle I just snapped on isn't full quite yet.  Bubba begins to yell.  He's lost his binky and is arching his back, trying to explain how uncomfortable he is.  I unhook the pump pipes, run out with the rest of the pump stuff still on me, run to the kitchen to grab the milk for Bubba, and run back to feed him, all while still hooked up to the pumping shields and milk. Jordan realizes he now wants milk.  Begins asking for it nicely with a lot of pleases.  Elevates it to a simple demand.  Can you wait just a little while I feed Bubba?  "No Bubba milk!" he tells me.  I'm still dripping, I haven't pumped enough, but I decide to just feed Bubba while pumping.  I don't even feel how disgusting I really am at this point, I am just trying to make it through the next five minutes.  There's milk on my lap, on my shirt, on Bubba, and it is not a pretty sight.  Jordan seems to have calmed down and I secretly pray he isn't pooping.  Right as I'm thinking that, he points to his very exceptionally full crotch of a diaper and tells me "I pooped."  I tell him calmly that I will change it as soon as I finish feeding Bubba.  "I pooped!" he tells me again and again with an escalating louder voice, as if to ensure he makes himself heard because he senses a barrier of communication.  No son, no barrier of communication, just barrier of opportunity really.  I don't have enough hands!  I try to explain things to him, but he keeps persisting and I end up just asking him how he can fix the broken purple phone instead.  This seems to work temporarily.  Meanwhile, I finish feeding and burping Bubba, unhook all the pumping parts, and run out to get Jordan's milk and tell him as I'm doing it so he will remain calm.  I'm hoping nothing happens with Jordan and Bubba unsupervised while scanning my brain for any hard toys in the room that Jordan might throw (he's into throwing everything lately and we've had multiple teachings with him about hard versus soft or ball versus not ball).  I decide in that moment that I cannot wait an additional minute to warm up his cold milk and pour in the freshly pumped milk into his bottle.  I run back to give it to him, and then proceed to change his diaper (only wet) while he eats, and relax as everything seems to be peaceful now.  And then Andy comes home.  And right when everything seems dandy and I'm ready to lie down next to my husband who is holding our newborn and our toddler who is tucked right next to them, I find that the bed is soaked.. but this isn't milk.  No... this is much more .... pissy smelling.  Pee.  That really full diaper of Jordan's?  It didn't hold much this morning.

Oh the joys of motherhood when it's not just one.

Second Time Around

I am enjoying my new baby so much more than I did last time around.  I can hold Bubba in my arms and just stare with awe and joy and love.  My heart aches and I feel so fulfilled every time he lays there contently.  Maybe it's because he was in the NICU for so long.  Maybe it's because there are so many blessings of family, friends, and tender mercies that I'd be ungrateful not to enjoy it.  Maybe it's because I'm not so dang worried because I feel like I actually know something now (but this might be a gross misconception).  Maybe it's because he's hooked up to a monitor so I'll be alerted if his heart rate goes up or down or he stops breathing.

All I do know is whatever I'm feeling now.. the second time around... I think is what some moms often describe as being enamored or sooo insanely happy with their firstborn that I don't think I ever really fully understood until now.  I get it now.  I feel it now.  I just can't get enough. And I am loving it.  I'm punch drunk with love with my cute little baby.  And my big baby has also been so great.  He is the beset big brother so far!!

Jordan is so in love with his little brother, which is so nice and such a blessing given the stories I've heard of friends with two boys and the older boy simply hating his limelight stolen and being mean to the lil one.  I think it helps that Jordan was given a lot of notice about Adam, that he only got to see him through the NICU window at first, and that he has become accustomed to Mommy not always being around (hospital bedrest was two weeks!).  In anticipation of his baby brother, Bubba, (he never calls him Adam), we also read a lot of books about big brothers, brothers, and new babies.  There were also so many reminders around the house about Bubba coming home soon.  For example, we got Bubba a baby swing that sat in its box since Bubba was still in the NICU even after I was discharged.  Jordan kept pointing to the box and telling us it was for Bubba.  And since Bubba never came home for a month, he continued pointing at the box everyday to advise us that was his baby brother Bubba's as if we'd forget.  When we drove by the hospital, we'd tell him to say hi to Bubba.  When one of us left for the NICU to visit Adam, we'd tell him we were going to go see Bubba.  So now that Bubba is home, Jordan is stoked everyday.  He was grinning from ear to ear when Bubba came home, knows he has to use the hand sanitizer before we let him touch him, and loves touching Bubba's feet.  He has been able to hold Bubba (with the help of Daddy), and wakes up every morning running into our room asking about Bubba and then peering over the pack n play to see him.  If Bubba makes funny sounds, Jordan mimics it and then laughs.  It has been so sweet to watch how much Jordan appreciates his lil brother's presence in the home.

It is tiring, but I'm over here laughing at myself as a first time mom because the second time is so much harder.  The first time around, May helped me change the baby's diaper before I would feed him (I know, she's a champ man!) in the middle of the night.  This time around, I not only get up to change Adam's diaper and feed him, but have to time it right so I can also pump for 15 minutes (the times I haven't have not been pretty.. imagine lots of dripping milk and an unhappy mom and crying baby).  If I'm not careful and neglect taking a nap in the afternoon, the night shift is awful.  To make matters worse, Andy is on nights which means he works from 5 PM until 7 AM, but during the day I get lots of help from May and Andy who help feed while I pump and Jordan sleeps in the same room as Grandma so if he wakes up, May is there to comfort him.  It's wonderful!