Kyle rocks my world (in MANY ways)

I can't even begin to list the ways in which this teeny tiny little human larva rocks my world. When I'm away from him, I miss him - even if I'm away for a few hours. My whole schedule right now, has to revolve around him b/c I am the Queen Bee, caring for her helpless larva. It's fun, exciting, new and oh so challanging. For a while, Mom and I had it where he was only waking for feedings and butt-cleanings - then the defective nipple incident happened.

One of the Avent bottles had a newborn colored fast flow nipple. All the bottles are supposed to come w/ one-holers, but this had three. I'd feed the little cutie at night and formula ran down his little chin. He gulped and gulped - I assumed he was super hungry and thought dreamily of four hours of sleep. Was I ever wrong! Every 20 minutes he would wake up crying and rooting. My baby garden gnome (sans beard) thrashed his head wildly from side to side, thrusting his tounge through his lips while crying. Finally, at 2:45 I passed him off to Mom and fell exhausted into bed.

In the morning Mom asked me to look at the nipple. She suspected it was the culprit of the mal-content baby. Holding it up to the sunlight, I saw not one, not two, but three holes! No wonder he swatted at it. He was nearly drowing in formula! I never would have figured that one out!

I'm used to having "chunks" of my day to get things done, such as work, writing, reading, house stuff. No longer. Going places takes twice as long b/c getting Kyle ready, packing his diaper bag, making sure I have enough bottles, and then a quick change eat up the minutes. I am forced to abandon my spontenaity and plan ahead (John and Mom think that's good for me).

Sleeplessness and chores up to my hair follicles aside, I look forward to exploring the wonders of this world with my Muffin Man. He rocks my world with wonder and expectation. Last night, after and hour of lung billowing screams, we prayed together to Jesus. Well, I did the praying in Kyle's voice. "Dear Jesus, my name is Kyle Gudger and I'm a baby. I know you were a baby once so you know what it's like. My tummy hurts and I don't know how to sleep through the night yet. My new crib, with the jungle animals hanging over my head is cool. Help me dream of puppies, bunnies, kittens, mountain streams and wildflowers. I know you love me, Jesus. Someday I'll be old enough to know what that means, but thankyou for laying next to me in my crib. Amen."

Kyle slept for almost five hours last night. I put him down around 11 and he woke up after 3, then again at 5. Two times is a record. I too, say "Thankyou Jesus!"

Stay tuned for throughts from a first time grandma (she don't know it yet, but I'll get her to blog).

Warnings needed and "butt rockets"

Who would ever guess in this litagatious society obsessed with safety, that all things "baby" should sport the following warning highlited in florescent yellow: WARNING: ANY ATTEMPTS AT REMOVING THIS OBJECT FROM FACOTRY PACKAGING COULD RESULT IN IMPALEMENT, AMPUTATION OR FATALITY. the manufacturer bears no liability in any injuries that may ensue.

Seriously. I got Kyle a little giraffe thingy that clips onto his car seat. The poor giraffe's head and all FOUR legs were shackled with plastic tags strong enough to hold down the space shuttle! I nearly took off my thumb and stabbed myself in the spleen trying to remove that darned toy from it's packaging. I wonder why they make baby stuff so people proof? I've seen iPods with less secure packaging....

Life is a litter box. Motherhood is a litter box - sometimes literally! Kyle introduced me to one of his talents today. It was around the noon hour and I was giving him a bottle while watching some home decorating show on the Discovery Channel. My nose began to twitch, and my eyes watered. Little Kyle was filling his diaper. I burped him, and did what any mother would do - shift him into the under-the-arm football hold and hike to the changing pad on the floor in his room. After wrestling with the wiggling, screaming infant, I discovered my nose proved right: Sir Robert Poopsalot had struck again! I removed the poopy diaper holding both of his legs in the air for easy tush access. All of a sudden, I saw a twitch. Before I knew what was happening, a steady blast of chunky peanut butter baby poo hit me coating my right leg, left sock and slipper. I screamed. Curious animals crept into the room, the dog thinking he might land a tasty snack. I screamed. Chloe ran out of the room. I screamed. And screamed. I was covered in poo, not knowing what to do. Carefully I manuvered my poopy parts out of the way and proceeded to put a clean diaper on Kyle and dress him. I left him laying there as I ran downstairs (relax, he was on the floor) to strip off the stinky jeans, socks and slippers. Once I was free of fecal matter, I returned to a sleeping baby. Kneeling by his side, I gently put my hands behind his little back making sure to support his floppy head with my fingers. He felt very warm. And very wet. I rolled him over. He was laying in a puddle of yellow liquid. My heart skipped a beat and I sniffed. Yup. Pee. Apparantly while I was screaming about the poo while the naked baby lay on the changing pad, he peed. Needless to say I had to start all over again. At the hospital the nurses told me that newborns only need baths every 3 to 4 days because they don't get dirty. THAT'S A LIE, PEOPLE! Tell me my muffin man didn't get himself dirty today. Not only did he get himself dirty, but ME!

So, therefore, Kyle demonstrated his talent of making butt-rockets. His aim is quite accurate. I'm glad it wasn't my face.

The joy in this litterbox? He's opening his eyes more, and longer. He looks at me and studies my face. How cool is that?

Tired? What's that mean?

I thought I knew what it was to be tired. I never imagined the human body can still marginally function on so little rest and sleep. I'm seeing numbers on the digital clock that I knew existed in theory, but let me tell you, there really is a 2:17 AM and a 3:06AM and so on.

Because Sir Poopsalot poops A LOT, I decided to give him a sponge bath. He hated it in the hospital under the heat lamp and he REALLY let me know he hated it on the kitchen floor! His little chin vibrated nearly as fast as the wings of a humming-bird and he wriggled and wiggled, smearing poo allover the changing mat. How does one clean a writhing baby? How do you keep him from getting poo all over himself during a diaper change? So many questions, so little answers.

Remeber the movies "Mission Impossible?" Whatever the mission is on the silver screen they are WRONG! I have always suspected what I'm about to reveal, to be true, but know I know...

Are you ready?

This is classified information, you know...

(I glance aside to Caleb - "Should I tell them, or leave them hanging...")

Alright. I think I can trust you.

The most Impossible
mission
is
LAUNDRY!

I have a pile the size of Mt. Everest taking over my family room. John has to dump the couch just to sit. Kyle goes through clothes like Caleb through an unacompanied bag of dog treats. I can't do it! I'm out of clothes, John is on the verge of doing the guy-inspired inside out thing... everytime I try to get something done, Kyle begins to fuss or cry or want to be fed, which Is about nearly every hour and a half. The hunger has set in, let the growth spurt begin!

Of course, it would help to have a dryer that actually works... can't afford one. This one is beyond fixing (we tried).

Gotta get back to Kyle, and oh, I heard a car door slam - Casserole??? No, FLOWERS from Kyle's G-ma and G-pa. I'll have to post a pic once I recharge the camera battery. I forgot to turn it off last nigh. OOoops.

Mom, I know you read this daily - Kyle says thanks for the flowers... what was that? A rumble from down under. Oops there goes another diaper change - can't believe I 'm doing it. I used to pay my little sister to come down the street where I babysat to change diapers...

Dut dut da DAAAAH! Introducing Sir Robert Poopsalot (A.K.A. Kyle)

My first full day as a mommy was...well...interesting. Considering I had NO sleep last night. Kyle sleeps so peacefully during the day for some nice durations of time, but at night, the gremlin in him comes out and he wakes up every HALF HOUR!

This morning I had to take him to the pediatrician for his 48 hour check-up that is mandated by the State for adopted kids. I'm used to waking up, eating, dressing, feeding animals and dashing out the door in 30 minutes or less. This morning it took an hour and a half to get myself ready and Kyle.

Some friends gave us an old stroller. It weights about 418 pounds. I decided to toss it in the back of the VUE in case I needed it. The car was in the garage. There is not enough room to carry a baby in a car seat through the garage, let alone open the back seat door of the car. I put Kyle in the car seat, left him near the front door and backed the car out. Next, I put the stroller behind the car and grabbed Kyle. Being my first time putting the car seat in the base, it took me a while to figure it out. The directions said it was supposed to just "snap securely in place" HA! After wrestling with a car seat that has an attitude worse than a constipated crocodile, I wearily climbed behind the wheel and slammed the stick into reverse. The wheels rolled back a few feet when it dawned on me... THE STROLLER!!!! Slamming my right foot on the brake, I punched the lock and flew out the door. The back tires of the VUE were only inches away from the beastly stroller. Grunting, I lifted the thing and struggled to put it in the back of the VUE.

The doctor visit went well. Kyle is extremely healthy and his poop is normal (he showed off the prowess of his active bowels for the doc as the diaper came off). Dr. Kesselman asked if I had any questions. I was ready for him. "How do you know what cries to ignore, and what cries to attend to?" I leaned forward to the doc as he rocked from side to side on his rolly-stool.

"Let Kyle teach you that."

Just what I needed to hear. I was hoping he'd offer me some miraculous wisdom that would afford both John and I some sleep tonight. Most questions were answered "the baby will teach you." My assignment before the 2 week visit, is to know some things Kyle likes and dislikes. He loves to poop. He hates getting his diaper changed.

Of course doctors like to look over entire babies so they are undressed. When the time came to re-dress my little garden gnome (he does look like the Roaming Gnome sans beard), I noticed he had spit up all over his sleepy thingy. BUT I was prepared! I had an EXTRA sleepy thingy with feeties for such a time as this. I slid the onepiece outfit under my child's back, grabbing flailing arms and legs to stick in the right holes. Then the snaps. Not everyone has fingers as small as Barbie! I have big fingers thanks to my dad, and struggled to snap Kyle up. Something didn't look right.

"Uh, Doc, does this look backwards to you?" I asked, noticing the weird twist of the feet.

"Let me see, " he said coming over to straighten the legs, "yep, it's on backwards - hey Wanda, come meet this new mommy, she put her babies onsie on backwards!"

Color rushed into my cheeks as I grumbled about "aren't the snaps supposed to be in the front? I thought the snaps were supposed to be in the front for easy access..." Laughter was the constant background noise as I finally flipped the child over and then looked cluelessly at him. Finally, the nurse, Wanda helped me figure out how to put an outfit that in my opinion, was made BACKWARDS onto the screaming, raisin-faced infant.

Sheesh. I really need sleep.

Pictures

Kyle is Here!!! (no, I didn't take a pic of his first poo)

Boy, I think I'm exhausted now...

He's here! He was born yesterday at 12:08 PM MST weighing 6lbs, 14oz, and 19"long. After many hours of getting a centimeter by centimeter update from Carolyn (the birthmom's mom), Heidi and I decided to send our hubbys for lunch. The OB came in thinking it would be another four hours until full dialation and baby. While the men were out, Carolyn came running in telling us birthmom was ready to go and holding onto the baby until the OB arrived. We were invited to stand behind a curtain during the final pushes so we could hear Kyle's first cry.
"Push...deep breath, AGAIN! Here he comes!"
a little wail pierces the air...
"Okay, he's out up to his belly, I need another push- harder, HARDER and, oh, here he is and he's peeing on the doctor!"

John and I looked at each other with eyes as wide as the sky on the W. Texas plains. We were parents. Instantly, a nurse brushes past us with a small bundle nodding her head for us to follow her to the nursery.

John had the priveledge of cutting the chord. It was an amazing expereince. The nurses were so helpful, teaching us the rudiments of newborn care.

This morning, the social worker from the adoption agency gathered all the birth family, their pastor and our new family into a room for prayer. Everyone prayed over Kyle, including his birth grandparents and birthmom. The presence of the Holy Spirit was so tangible as Kyle lay in the bassinet in a sweet repose sucking on his green passifier.

What was amazing to me, was that during the prayer, the analogy was made between the Father God and the birthmom. This 18 year old gave up her only son to benefit someone else. It was a loss to her, just as sending Jesus to this pain-riddled world was a loss to God. He did it anyway knowing how much it would hurt - and He sent His Son into a life of sorrow, torture and death! I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that God has a special reward for young girls who give their babies up for adoption - especially when the world tells her over and over again that she would be better off killing it...

Okay, he's on the way!!!

It's 3AM and John and I are at the hospital waiting. We recieved a call from the social worker that birthmom's water broke. This pulled us out of bed at 11:30. It's our 8th anniversary and Kyle's birthday! We'll let you know more. It's hard to nap on the hard couches in the waiting area...

No baby yet and what do the insides of a cat nostril look like?

We are still waiting. Don't know if I can describe the waiting process as "waiting patiently" (besides, adverbs are baaad). My cell phone follows me everywhere, and I think John's has become permanently attached to the side of his head! Uh, his is ringing right NOW...but it's not Kyle. It's one of his dude friends.

Waiting for the call is hard. Making plans are out of the question. Tomorrow is our 8th anniversary and we will stay in Denver. In years past we ventured out to secluded B&B's in the mountains. Ruth's Chris Steakhouse or Il Frenio? Hmmm. Steak or Italian? One-holed nipples or two? Pampers or Huggies? The decisions are going to be my undoing!

Thursday evening I came down with some weird stomach thing, and instead of resting, I kept praying, "Not now, please don't let the baby come right now!" My condition was such that my enterance into the OB area would have been doubtful, plus there are practically NO toilets between here and where the baby will be born. It's a long drive.

Yesterday my mom was deciding whether or not to hate me for living in Colorado (see that post below a few posts). She read about the 79 degree days from a snowy, cold, Pennsylvania. I think her comment after asking me about the weather was "Don't hate me b/c I live in PA." It's been snowing here for the past three days.

Ever wonder what the inside of a cat nostril looks like? Me too. One day I intend to find out with my camera once I get some macro lense attachments to screw onto my 28-80mm lens.

Enough with the random and maybe even boring thoughts today. I'll just blame it on my perpetual headache.

Oh, and PLEASE feel free to leave comments. We could have some converstaions! Is anybody reading this? You don't have to sign up for anything or remember your 386th password... just click on the "comment" link at the bottom of the post and say something. I feel like I'm talking to myself...probably am. No wonder the doc wants me to see a neurologist.

Me gots me a new camera and some flying cats!

It was bittersweet, trading my trusty old Canon AE1 in for a Nikon D50. As much as I loved the old "beast", I rarely used film. With Kyle coming, it was time to upgrade to a digital camera that didn't have a 30 second lag when the shutter button was pressed.

John and I had too much fun playing with the Nikon's high speed shutter...

Disclaimer: NO KITTIES WERE INJURED DURING THE PHOTO SHOOT.


Believe it or not, Esau came back for MORE!

Elbows, evolution and... man sweat

Okay, you're probably scratching your head right now wondering what new pain meds the doctors have given me to my headaches... or, you believe I'm completely nuts! However...

Today I said "good-bye" to my robo-arm contraption! The one that knocked the moulding off the side of the door of the Vue. You'd think if you injured one elbow, you would cope by using your okay arm. Works to an extent. Did you know an injured elbow affects your gait? Your posture? Your hips? It does. I've been experiencing pain in my right hip. Both the chiropractor and the physical therapist attribute that to the fact my arm can't straighten and the lack of opposing momentum causes over-compensation in my right side (the side that ain't hurt). In short, not being able to achieve full flexion or extension in my left elbow makes me walk funny.

Thinking that through as I shot around C-470 on the way to the ortho doc led me to marvel at how synergistic each and every part of our body is. (Don't look at me that way! My mom always told me to go look up big words in the dictionary.) Alright (sigh), synergistic means that multiple parts working together produce an effort or effect greater than if the parts worked all by their lonesome. (Thanks to WGI - Winter Guard International - I have that definition memorized).

Is it any sort of strange accident that our bodies work the way they do? Think about the miracle of birth. You'd have to be a complete moron to believe it all started with a big bang and a few slimy, single-celled ameobas! Only a creator can purposefully craft such a finely synergistic mechanism such as the elbow, or the body. God DESIGNED our bodies, our environment, animals for a purpose. To bring glory to Himself. To deny the FACTUAL creation narrative in Geneis is to deny God. So, I found myself driving and thanking God that He created me, and created me in such a way that my body can heal itself w/ a little help from Suzanne, my PT. She's brutal, but good.

Now for the man sweat thing. I think it was a Shape mag that I started to scan in the waiting room of the ortho doc that I read this tid-bit. I was jotting down the researcher people when the nurse called me. Apology for not having full citation, but this is too WEIRD to not share. Some Chemical company (Conell, Cornell -something like that) found that women suffering from anxiety can find calm by smelling the sweaty arm pitt of a man. NASTY! I'm NOT making this up, really! Women exposed to the smell of man sweat for over six hours experienced a statistically significant drop in their anxiety levels over women who smelled nice smells or nothing at all. Hey John, do a thousand jumping jacks and let me smell your pitts... NOT!
I'll take the anxiety for now :)