Hiatus Until Then...

The other day I ate moldy bread. I didn't even know until I was about to eat my second (yes second) piece days later, that the light white spots on the wheat bread I ate a few days earlier might have been mold. I actually recall the first time around thinking, hmmm that's a spotty weird thing on my bread, before taking big bites of it to quickly engulf it before I got onto other things. Oh well, at least I didn't eat a second piece of super moldy bread. Maybe I'm just not focusing enough because of other things.

Our son has torticollis which means we have to work at getting him to turn to his left (he prefers the right) and until then, he has an asymmetrical head and very possibly a flat head. I'm not sure what the ramifications are for having a flat head but it doesn't sound great. We are doing exercises with him everyday and if that doesn't work, we'll have to go to physical therapy which is costly and if that doesn't work, he might have to wear one of those soft helmets you see kids wearing who aren't playing contact sports. It's for their head to shape normally. Currently, Jordan's ears are crooked but he still looks absolutely adorable to me.

Our son also won't take the bottle yet. I even tried using a nipple shield so he'd be used to the plasticy taste but the shield was too big and he just gagged on it and cried until I gave him his regular food of choice. We got the Tommy Tippee bottle that everyone raves about - that was the tip that didn't work. Oh well. Not sure if we should try more bottles or just let him starve.

Our house is a mess. There is laundry to be put away, dishes I let sit in the sink until the morning and stuff to be ironed. It feels like there's never enough time in the day to get stuff done when in reality, I just need to manage my time better.

My desire to get back into pre-pregnancy weight has stopped 10 pounds short and absent making time to work out (besides a gym visit in a blue moon and walking around the neighborhood and burning 150 calories after an hour), it is not going to get there. Everytime I get dressed to work out, he gets hungry or wants to play and I have resorted to 25 minute work outs with a DVD and the pause button frequently.

Defeated. Dejected. Depressed. Demotivated.

And then I realized... I just need to take a hiatus from blogging, facebook (except I will be uploading photos and going back to find messages I sent, just no new messages or commenting or liking other peoples' statuses from here on out) and linked in... but blogging is the biggest sacrifice because it's something I love and find therapeutic. I guess it sounds ludicrous to some but for me, it's a huge sacrifice that ends up being quite small and only until I get things in order. Truth be told, taking myself away from it will give me a lot more time that I unintentionally waste every time I find myself at the computer.

I'm hoping this will give me the ability to truly focus on getting Jordan to look left and take the bottle and that the next time I blog it will be to tell you about our successes with Jordan, our fabulous neat and tidy home and my skinny and healthy body. I'm on a hiatus until then...

Must Get Out Of California ASAP!

I am so outraged by the ballot proposition to ban circumcision in San Francisco, California, that I am eating away my anger with a bag of crunchy cheetos Andy got me from the hospital vending machine and cup o' noodles for lunch.

The arguments I have heard for the circumcision ban include asserting it is "genital mutilation" and that it is dangerous, painful and parents should not "force it upon their children." Right.. like how parents who decide to get an abortion force their children to never enter this world. But wait a minute, proponents for that one also claim a baby is not a baby (tell that to the six week ultrasound that says otherwise to me!) when an abortion is performed (which could be up to three months...). I think it's interesting that the citizens of San Francisco have not only banned happy meal toys (utterly ridiculous, parents need to watch their kids, not put the burden of responsibility on fast food restaurants!) but now they are eager to impose a $1,000 fine and a year in prison for parents who want to circumcise their boys. I've even heard some proponents for the ballot say it is because pediatricians want money (get your facts straight people, the OB gyn is the surgeon who performs it). And lastly, comparing it to females and claiming it is genital mutilation is just ludicrous - tell that to all the grown men who are walking around with their genitals mutilated. Does that mean they can't have kids? HAHA .. clearly insane. I wonder if it's painful for men with their genitals mutilated to produce offspring or if it's even possible. Oh wait - it is. Duh.

I could care less if a child gets circumcised or not, but ultimately, the fact that they want to strip parents the right to decide and tell us that it is cruel and completely purposeless - well that is just a lie.

I really hope we get to leave California for residency... at this rate, the state is going down faster than you can say circumcision.

Oh and Governor Brown just decided gay and lesbian history will be part of US history taught in schools from now on. Last I checked, there was not a chapter in my history book growing up that taught me about sex so why it is part of the curriculum now is beyond me. I also do not recall a chapter on bi-racial marriages so why is this a necessity? Oh right, because California is going downhill. Duh.

A Weekend of Firsts for Jordan

I owe a little more credit to the fun and memorable times since Jordan has been in our life. The hilarious oh my my, this could only happen with a baby once in a lifetime "firsts" and experiences. Because without them now, life would not be as fulfilling or as satisfying and I would never trade him for anything (not even one million dollars!...imagine that with a pinky on my chin like Dr. Evil)!

Andy and I sometimes point at Jordan and say.. "that's my baby" with so much pride it's probably worth repenting immediately. We get excited about taking him out for firsts like this last Friday when we took him to his first baseball game at Dodger Stadium. As I reviewed everything in my diaper bag before we left - the normal wipes, boob feeding cover, diapers, changing pad, an additional two outfits (in case something should happen to soil his current outfit), plastic bags (to house any soiled messes) and even a bottle (just in case he somehow miraculously decides to take it while out), I could not stop thinking if I had missed anything. I always want to be prepared but sometimes you can't prepare for everything, a lesson I am learning everyday from Jordan. I am going to commit to enjoying the moment more and stop worrying so much (although lesson learned is it does get quite cold at night games, even though it's brutally hot during the day!).

At the game, Jordan was great - slept a bit, and then just sat there, mesmerized by the lights and everything else going on. Our friend Cassy asked to hold him for a bit and within mere seconds of transferring him over to her, a loud gaseous fart sound with a bit of moving liquid was heard and Cassy, Andy and me looked down towards Jordan and saw a blowout all over his cute baseball outfit AND Cassy's hands and pants. In that immediate moment, all I could think was did he really have to blowout on someone else? He was JUST on Andy's lap - ughhhh man, really baby?...... as we profusely apologized to Cassy who was so easygoing about having liquidy poop on her. I'm not sure I would have been as okay about it.. but then again, I never held a baby until Andy, my then boyfriend, plopped his newborn niece into my arms. (Besides that one time, I never held a baby until my own.. so if I can do it.. so can you!)

Saturday did not stop with the firsts for Jordan. It was his first time going away from home for more than 5 hours (including commute time!). That morning, I did not stop with making sure we had everything we needed for an entire day away from home. This meant five additional outfits, a mat, a pack of diapers and an assortment of blankets. Andy was amazed that we needed that many additional outfits but I advised him that Jordan goes through a LOT of clothes in a day from spit-ups to blow-outs to peeing during diaper changes. And sure enough, we went through four outfits throughout the day (and an additional outfit for Andy - we both brought two outfits just in case).

The drive over was about an hour and though Jordan started off by crying a bit, he was quickly distracted by a vibrating birdie (that came all the way from my friend Jen from Michigan!) and soon fell asleep within minutes of hitting the freeway.

We had a blast in Corona (think 909 Inland Empire) with the Bluths (Jen and Bryan) and Jen's extended family. We got there and basically pretended we were part of the family, refusing to leave (luckily they didn't kick us out) from mid-morning until after dinner. We tried our best to help out with the wedding open-house preparations that were going on for one of their close family friends' daughter and enjoyed Jen's amazing and aesthetically pleasing cupcakes (she had glitter and fillings and an assortment to choose from - yes we tried them all!) and I admired the landscaping and logistical set-up and pairing of turquoise, soft pink and the bird theme (bird cages, birds' nests, etc.). It was absolutely breathtaking and even though most of the design was the work of Jen's mom, I secretly thought, Jen is definitely going to help with our kids' weddings because I know she has her mom's same talent!

In between open-house prep, we got a chance to hang out and enjoy the pool. Jordan was all dressed in his water diaper and super cute surf top I got at Baby Gap on major sale (tis the season folks!) and Janie and Jack fisherman's hat (didn't get a photo) but he did not enjoy the water or the sun (he gets it from me) and instead, preferred to sleep on the soft cushioned seat in the shade outside. Inside the house, Jordan became enthralled with the ceiling fans, the older women (little girls ranging in ages 4 to 11) smiling and wanting to play with him and Jen's black and white damask themed bedroom and soft matching bed (babies don't have excellent eye sight so black and white contrasts are very engaging for them). He did tummy time on Jen's bed and even got to play with Bryan's cubs hat and only had one pukey moment and one blow-out - pretty good for his first time away from home!

Once home, Andy and I realized we are indeed getting old. We didn't do much that day except hang out, swim, eat, drink (we don't have much to drink besides Brita water and milk at our house and Jen's parents' home had seven-up, catcus cooler, Fresca, and bottled water), but we were simply exhausted when we got home. I was and am still so tired from Saturday that when I got back from Church today, I took an hour nap (for someone who doesn't normally nap, that's a lot!). I can't believe how tiring it can be to go on outings with your kid. And we only have one who is barely mobile! How does everyone else do it? And am I the only one who thinks that all the time?

Here's hoping our bodies adapt and we aren't so tired because the rest of the summer has even more "firsts" in store including a trip to Orlando Florida (hellooo Harry Potter world) and a camping trip to Big Sur.

It's Official....

We will begin sending Christmas cards this year. I always told myself I wouldn't send them until I had a family and as much as Andy is family to me, who cares what we are doing? So the first year flew by with no card but now that Jordan is in our life, everyone will care... right? Hahaha...

Well, even if not - too bad. I started off by sending birth announcements to family, friends, co-workers, etc. and it was quite a task! It was like wedding invitations... thank you cards nightmare all over again... only this time when I stuffed the envelopes, I sighed and thought... hehe, that's my son! I'm sure I missed a ton of people, I tried my best but it was just impossible. I can't believe how many people come in and out of our lives throughout the years. I already know I left out a lot of Church buddies (so please don't be offended if you didn't get one), but our Ward is so large with so many awesome couples, it was basically a cost differential that I wasn't willing to invest in until Christmas. I know.. I'm cheap. I prefer frugal.

I still need to obtain all my parents' friends addresses as they often get left out in the more American traditions such as this yet they shower us with gifts, gift certificates and money without fail.

Anyhow, enjoy the baby announcement via the online world of fun and free (postage costs so much!)!

A Good Tool Goes A Long Way

I ironed for the first time since I have been married two days ago. I actually had to ask Andy how to iron the shirt sleeves. You see folks, I've actually never ironed... with success. Growing up, my mom taught me once, but my shirts never seemed to de-wrinkle themselves and flustered, my mom offered to do it for me. I have never hesitated to let her iron for me and as such, the iron and me are not really well acquainted.

I probably never would have gotten the desire to iron or even upgrade our iron if it hadn't been for some prime examples in my life.

The first is my sister-in-law Tammy and her husband, Jeff. Whenever we visit them up north and stay with them, Sunday mornings are always the same - they are both in and out of the garage where the ironing board resides. And... they actually use the iron! At home, Andy pops his shirts into the dryer and BOOM - they are wrinkle-free! Okay, maybe not completely, but most of the time he wears a suit over his shirts. Other times, the shirt is fine, just not crisp. Meanwhile, yours truly wears wrinkle stuff without shame. A little embarrassing....

Second, when my mother-in-law, May, was staying with us, she not only helped us take care of Jordan, change his diaper in the middle of the night as I fed, cooked, folded laundry and helped with the dishes, she brought out our ironing board and ironed a ton of shirts for both Andy, Jordan and me. Immediately, I was not only grateful but a little ashamed.

Third, when Jeff and Tammy came for Jordan's baby blessing, Jeff used the iron and told us we need to get a new iron. I figured he just had a very high standard for irons being that he does iron on more occasion than myself. Or so I told myself....

Having all these examples, I was already mulling over potentially diving into the act of ironing. But I still hesitated.

Then, one morning while May was still staying with us... before Church, I woke up early to shower and went to iron Jordan's outfit that we had planned earlier for his Sunday best. I slothfully dragged out the iron and thought about taking out the ironing board. Instead, I decided to lay a towel on the floor and iron his outfit there instead. I then went to get ready. As I was feeding Jordan, May was getting ready to dress Jordan. She went to get out the ironing board and began ironing his outfit....the one I had already ironed. At this point I was mortified. She had no clue that I had ironed it already, and by the looks of the outfit, no one else would have either. That is how I knew I was definitely a bad ironer. I secretly told myself I needed to 1) get a new iron and 2) learn how to iron.

So we finally got a new iron and I not only learned how to use it by reading the instructions, filling the water and asking Andy how to operate the steam function (hey, the instructions weren't that easy to follow!) and then....I used it! And I must say, a good tool goes a long way. If I had a good iron to use when I was growing up, I might never have given up and defaulted to my mom ironing for me.

I'm thankful for the examples who slowly - not immediately - got me to change my ironing ways. They planted the seed... and now we will have non-wrinkly shirts - all thanks to them!

Painful But Delightful

I had my first official post-partum work out yesterday. I say "official" because doing exercise videos at home and walking around the neighborhood was considered a work out until yesterday so I guess those were all poor excuses for getting off my butt but this actual work-out was one that kicked my butt.

Kick seems like an understatement.

I got my butt whipped.

It was a studio group fitness class at Equinox (where the motto is "It's Not Fitness, It's Life") with one of my favorite instructors from two and a half years ago (the last time I was in this gym). She does her entire class with weights and a bosu ball and usually has really fun music and has us up and down all over the ball working our core, our thighs and our arms. It is fabulous!

Or so I remembered....

Yesterday was horrific. I was heaving and hoeing, my heart was racing, my head was pounding, sweat was dripping down my face, and I was unsure if I'd make it through. I felt like hurling many times, and used this as an excuse to walk to the back of the studio to get my camelback and slowly sip some water. I drank so much water that I was even able to sneak out of the studio twice to refill my water bottle. Halfway through the class, I started thinking of excuses I could use to leave the class.

The music was too loud to speak over it so I could gesture something to the instructor, maybe about my ankle or knee or... I could just faint. The aftermath might be too messy to deal with. I could whisper VERY quietly but LOUDLY WITH MY LIPS that I had to go... but it all seemed rude unless I really couldn't make it.. which I very well might not have...

So I stuck it out. For the reps I could do full out, I did, the rest I just breathed and watched others in awe. At one point she had us jumping down to a plank on the bosu ball which was upside down (so you had to balance since the ball side was on the floor), doing a push up, jumping up to a position with a lunge, standing up and then lifting the bosu ball (it is quite heavy!) and doing a press-up into the air - ugh - and she did this in repeat 6 reps first with 4 times, then 2 times and then 1 time. I was DYING.

To make matters worse, I had obtained a 3 lb weight because I knew I was not ready for anything larger than that - the instructor had also obtained a 3 lb weight. But she reminded the class repeatedly that she was using "sissy" weights since she had injured herself over the weekend but hey, that's what she got for being 50 years old and going mountain biking. First off, her body is a ROCK and she looks more like 40. I could not believe it. I wanted to yell, "I just had a baby!" but there was no nonchalant way of doing so. Instead, I sucked it up and tried my best.

Through my eternity of "I'm not ready to work out at a gym suffering" of one hour last night, the abs and cool down felt so satisfying. And once I was done, I was ready to do it again just not today or tomorrow...I need time to heal first. It's true what they say about challenges building character and how rewarding it is to overcome them. I'm definitely far from overcoming my lack of aerobic strength and utter usefulness in the gym but I am ready to tackle it, one horrific work out at a time. To sum it up, it was quite painful indeed... but now that I'm done and had the endorphin rush yesterday.... it was also quite delightful too.

My Super Clutch Save

This Sunday, Andy had post-call so I was going to Church with Jordan alone. I embraced the opportunity to be punctual on my own (this will probably be a normal situation once we're in Residency) and prepared by taking a shower at 7:15 AM which gave me ample time to feed Jordan at 8 AM. One thing about Jordan these days is that he is becoming sillier when he feeds, often smiling, stopping to stare and ensure I am paying attention before he continues to eat. He will come off of the boob, look at me with his puppy eyes waiting for me to respond, and when I say something to him, he will smile, look around and then latch on again. He cracks me up but I try not to smile and instead sternly advise him it's time to eat, not play, and surprisingly he always looks as if he understands until the next time around.

Following his 8 AM feeding, I geared up to get him into his Sunday best but as I was getting ready to dress him, we were joined by the loud blast of his poop. His face was priceless - a sort of clench in his jaw which immediately turned into a glorified sigh of relief. I waited a couple of minutes, because he usually has more poop on its way and going too quickly to the diaper changing table spells trouble. As predicted, within mere seconds, a second blast of poop was heard. So I took him to his favorite place these days, the diaper changing pad.

Once on the pad, he looked up at me with excitement, probably because he now recognizes the routine and understands he will feel a lot better down below soon. I prepared by taking out two wipes which were to my right, then opening a new diaper to my left, proceeded to unbutton his onesie, opened his soiled diaper and carefully placed it to my right. He was all smiles and giggles as I changed him and then, his expression immediately changed. I braced myself, already knowing there was a huge possibility this meant more poop and without disappointing me, he started to poop more. Since his poop is not yet solid as he is only drinking milk, imagine a shade lighter than peanut butter (like almond butter) with a consistency of tomato soup - thick but still creamy and liquidy. At this point, my left hand is holding his two feet in the air and my right hand is holding a wipe, his butt is stil covered with poop, the clean diaper is to the left - ugh, too far, the soiled diaper is to the right - ugh, also too far, so I quickly think what else I can do. This is when I decide I will meticulously try to balance the one wipe I'm holding to rest on my palm instead of between my fingers and try my best to balance his watery poop.

Have you ever tried balancing a book on your head and walking down a straight line as you do so? That's how it felt... only my mind was racing with - please don't poop so much that there's no way I can catch this. Please don't kick too hard with your feet, I can do this (wouldn't have been a huge deal if I didn't - just messier and more time consuming to clean), please hurry and finish pooping! And then, just like that he was done. Only now, I had to carefully, with every ounce of balance and precision, move the wipe covered with liquified poop to the soiled diaper and drop it in. I even slowly moved my body with it, so that the jerk from my arm to the hands holding it would be smoother. I got closer... and closer... and then BAM - it was in!

I did it! The third poop was safe and sound in the soiled diaper, and I finished cleaning Jordan up. I dressed Jordan, changed my mind on outfits about five times (it's still hard with most of my stuff too tight!), quickly braided my bangs, put Jordan into the carseat, and off we went! It's as if Jordan knew Daddy was missing and was on extra good behavior getting to Church, through Sacrament and even the second hour of Church. He didn't start to get restless until the third hour, probably missing his Daddy who has been taking him to Elder's Quorum during the third hour for the last two weeks, and then, he just wanted to go outside and lay on the couch and stare at Jesus.

I am still smiling at my clutch save of the diaper that morning. It made my day! On the drive to Church, we even sang (well I sang but he was happy about it) made up songs about being punctual to Church according to the melody of "I Will Survive." It was pretty sweet. It went a little bit like this....

(keep in mind I improvised it...)

At first we were late, we never made it on time... Kept taking too much time to find out what we was gonna wear, we shoulda gotten ready sooner, we shoulda picked our clothes before, we shoulda prepped better, coulda made it to Church on time BUT NOW we are! We're on our way! We're gonna make it there before it starts, it feels so good on time! .....

It's what we did at the Ronald McDonald Camp for Good Times all the time, only our stuff rhymed more but hey, Jordan loved it!