Month 3!

She's 3 months today!!! I don't know where any of that time went. Early on, I didn't sleep. At all. I was constantly worried and too busy checking on her to get any sleep. I sleep very little still, and while the worrying isn't any less now than it was when we first brought her home, it's a different kind of worry. I imagine it will continue on this way until... forever.

My baby graduated from size 1 pampers to size 1-2!

It's almost as if she's asking "Mummy, do I have to wear these silly stickers every month!?"

*Grin*

Mommy trying to make baby smile some more for Daddy!

And it works!

Little Miss

Do all moms have this problem with babies? I need to cut her fingernails. EVERY day. That's if I don't want her leaving scratch marks all over her face.

We also took a little trip out to Woodbury today. Can we say madness??? There were so many things I wanted to buy her... but but but... we came home empty. The stores were way too crowded and the people... let's just say Mr. Husband was a little bit of a stress case early on because as he so put it "someone needs to smack these people for being as loud as they are and wearing what they are wearing". Sadly, I couldn't disagree, but Squirmy didn't seem to mind one bit.

Psycho Mom

You know those moms who can't leave their babies with anyone (including their own husbands) for an extended amount of time or those moms who are unwilling to make plans that are adult only or the psycho mom with watery eyes at just the thought of being apart from their babies? Yeah, I am THAT mom. My dearest friend and hubs planned me a surprise to enjoy what turned out to be a gorgeous day, to be pampered, to be an adult again, and while I was (still am) very grateful for it, I was itching to get home. I was upset that I was leaving earlier than I initially planned, which meant I was coming home later. Leaving the house, I was all jittery and even while out, every baby stroller, every baby, every baby store we passed, left me feeling guilty that I could have taken my Squirmy to the park instead of selfishly spending the day without her (if you told me even during the last stretch of my pregnancy that this is the kind of mommy I would become, I would have laughed at you and called you nuts). As soon as I got home, I scooped her up and cuddled in bed with her until she fell asleep telling her how sorry mommy was for leaving her. She was with the hubs, her father, for crying out loud! Yeah, and I lost every bit of nerve. I don't question her well being when she's being taken care of by the hubs because he's great with her. It's all me. I. am. crazy. She's fine. I'm not. She doesn't need me there all of the time as long as she is with someone who will feed her, change her diaper and play with her. I need her because when she's not with me, I get panicky. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time today. A great time. I really did. I was gone all of six hours. Still, that is not going to happen again any day soon. Seriously....

Thursday: Since everyone's been commenting on how I've "pink-ed" her up too much...

but I don't think she liked being labeled "pint-sized". She wasn't in a good mood for the better part of the day wearing this....

Friday, daddy had a morning golf date , but was home early enough to have brunch with mommy and baby!

Then today, this was me clutching on to baby when I should have been out the door...

*Sniffle* That is the last time I ever mention I need a break.

Shopaholic

I. Have. A. Problem. I am a shopaholic. I cannot walk by a baby store and walk by or leave the store empty handed. At the end of the day, there is always a "Honey, the baby really needs/wants this". Usually, he says, "sure, okay". Lately however, every time I start with "there's this thing I saw today...", he won't let me finish and almost always responds, "okay, I'm tired. I'm going to bed". What. the. heck. She/I really need this stuff! Why? Because, they're just sooooo darn cute! I don't care much what I look like, but I like my baby in cutesy, useless, where it thrice at best, outfits!

I love baby stuffs!

Celebrations

As Squirmy's 100th day and baptism approaches with a list of people we need to invite, I think back to the start of how all this began. Our wedding. While it was short and rather sweet with a small group of people, in hindsight, if I knew then how I would feel about it years later, I would have done it so differently and stood my ground. At the start of the planning, we counted about a hundred people. Approximately 40 on my side and the rest on the hub's side, give or take a dozen folks. The day of, we ended up with 12 on my side and close to 45 on his. We personally knew maybe 25 of those people - 5 of them children under the age of 4. At the church, I noticed and didn't much care because I was just really cold in a backless gown and wanted to curse out my photographer for making me stand outside to satisfy his picture taking skills when all I wanted to do was move on to the reception so I can eat and warm up. It was November and it was FREEEEZING out. At the reception, however, I remember looking out to the two corner tables and feeling a little lonely. I tired of having to re-do the list over for what seemed like the hundredth time, so I threw it away to make life easier for everyone - else - it turned out to be. This was long before I was expecting Squirmy but I remember thinking, for my child, I was going to make his or her days, ALL ABOUT THEM. Now that she is here, I stand by that. Understandably, with all celebrations comes a social obligation to invite certain people, but it should not outnumber the people who are not "obligations". Any celebration - be it her birthday, baptism, her 100th day - she should be surrounded by people who love her, who will remain constant in her life, not strangers. 80% of the people at our wedding? Neither of us knew them. They didn't know us. In fact, we received checks with the "Pay To" areas blank because they didn't know our names. Why were they there? We never met them, never knew their names, have yet to meet them since (they obviously never received thank you cards from us because well, where would we have sent it to?). I look back and my biggest regret is that I didn't fight hard enough to share what should have been one of the most memorable days with the people I wanted there and the majority of the people we did share it with, we wouldn't even recognize if we ran into them in the street now. Social obligation. Not even our own. My Squirmy's special days, they're going to be filled with people who will stay in her life to guide her, teach her, and love her. People she will grow to know and recognize. What I wasn't willing to fight over, for myself (because it was just mentally painful), I am willing to for her because she should never have to look out into a field of people and not feel secure and happy and have that to remember.

My life:

My big baby on the left and the little one on the right. Literally. My life.

[On a side note, I really, really, really wish I could fall asleep. This. Just. Sucks. Any insomnia fixers out there? -SIGH-]

Change

You hear all the time, "A baby changes everything", and most people will nod and respond, "well, of course". I don't think I ever really understood what e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g meant until baby actually came home with us and I realized, you can never turn back time (NOT THAT I WOULD!) to unchange anything. EVER. Most things have changed for the best, some changes haven't really touched me (us) much at all, and very few for the worst. Fears, for example, compiled in two forms: Rational and Irrational. I am DEATHLY afraid of clowns. Irrational. It's really a human behind those ridiculous costumes (RIGHT???). Something like 6, 7, 8 years ago, some of my friends back then who knew of my fear of those colorful, demented looking creature costumes thought it would be hilarious to scare my sleep deprived from 18-hour days, sick with the worst kind of flu during Christmas, self. I broke down, fell on the floor and sobbed. Seriously. I am not much the crying type, but clowns get to me (if anyone reading this is having funny thoughts to appear on my doorstep in a clown suit, you will permanently be on my crap list and I will hate you forever). While I still hate clowns and anything with a human face form that isn't human, the fear of things you watch on the news, the fear of your child falling ill, the fear of your child possibly getting hurt - those fears are more than rational and almost paralyzing. Happier changes are that I love the color pink. I still don't like it on myself, but it took having a daughter to love the color. I love frilly little lacy dresses too. I used to eat Twix and Snicker bars for breakfast. I very much dislike chocolate now. I used to drink up to 12 cups of coffee a day. Not for the caffeine because it did nothing for me, but I just loved coffee. I gulp down a cup in the mornings now for the kick, but find it bitter and pretty gross for the most part. I don't eat. Correction, I forget to eat. I used to eat as much, sometimes more than, my husband who outweighs me by an extra person. As my best friend so kindly put it, "Who are you? I don't know you anymore...". I swear less. Probably because there's nothing to curse about as much since I don't work and that was my biggest source of reason. I don't have any co-workers to curse out anymore. Also because even if I drop something, I don't want her hearing mommy yelling "Oh Sh*t!". I definitely curse less. If I do, they're silent and to myself. Sometimes the husband when I'm mad at him. Just kidding, honey! Really. Ha? Ha? I jest. Honest! He's a great husband and father, folks. Okay. Digging. Grave. Getting deeper now, so... moving on. Sleep was my greatest getaway. I have insomnia now and I am less tired when I sleep less than if I were to get a full night's rest. Full night being a very relative term for an insomniac (does that make sense to anyone?). Time to time, I miss being able to run out on a whim without making 3 trips to load the car with diaper bag, baby bottles, and baby loaded into her carseat, but the tradeoff is that I have this mini person in the backseat staring at all the wonders going by coo-ing and babbling at the sky, the trees and everything else so new to her. I also miss having a husband. Many nights, I actually feel like we're roommates, but the tradeoff is the sense of belonging and a connection I think only a baby can make a couple feel. I also don't cut people off on the roads anymore which is a big deal for me because I alone drive like an angry boy without even realizing it most of the time (I blame it on New York). In short, having a baby helps me try harder to be a better, nicer person. Leah has been an easy baby. At 8 weeks, she started sleeping anywhere from 8-13 hours. At almost 12 weeks now, she sleeps from 7PM to 7-8AM. She doesn't cry unless she wants a bottle or is sleepy. Don't get me wrong, we have some rough days too and to get her to sleep the way she does took several nights of protest and buckets full of tears, but I think it's because she's a good baby that she fell into a night routine so quickly - not because I actually did anything. The days are a bit more energy draining than the nights because she is much more demanding of attention and she does not nap, but I think she's an overall very easy child. While I count my blessings, sometimes I am scared that I got so lucky. That falls into one of my big fears. I haven't quite figured out if it's an irrational fear or a rational one. I've always believed that nothing comes easy and so far it has been. I am a realist. Something the hubs calls "pessimistic". I guess I wait for the sky to fall more often than not and busy myself with worry about when it will fall so that I'm always prepared, instead of enjoying what is for what it is. That has definitely changed for the worst. I also have serious separation anxiety issues. I've become one of those psycho moms I was so sure I would not become.

She's mine! All mine!!!

Portraits

We have been waiting for these for what seems like ever!!!

Mina's First Birthday

March 5th was Mina's birthday. Today (Sunday, so really, yesterday), we actually got to celebrate it. She was so sweet looking I would have bitten her cheeks if she were in a better mood, but I may have sent the about-to-burst-into-tears-any-minute-now-Mina off the edge so I held back. Hubs does not get to see little Squirmy at all during the week since she goes to bed for the night long before he gets home (someone has to pay the bills!) so outings have always just been the two of us. It made Mina's birthday that much more exciting since it was the first time we went out together as a family, all three of us Chungers (aside from the trip to the pediatrician's office 3 days after I gave birth, I mean). She also got to wear one of the many outfits that her crazy Auntie Louise thought she just HAD to have (Thank you, you're a doll!).

That's the birthday girl with her mommy (Michelle) and daddy (George) with a look of wonder on her face. She is probably wondering why all these strange people are... staring...at...her...

There's the princess again looking none too pleased. Maybe it's the frilly outfit her mum and dad put her in... It's tradition. Sorry, baby. It was just for a little while. Happy Birthday, shnookums!~~~

There's the (mommy's) family. Whoops, I thinks we missed a full photo of Mina's daddy's side, but they are (kind of? sort of?) still in the view of the picture (parents - bottom left) and the backs of uhmmm, some of their uhmmm, heads (bottom right) - Sorries, Georgie...

This was my, okay, no more pictures of me please, thankyouverymuchforyourcooperation face...

And of course, here is my little princess...

She was getting more and more confused as to where all the noise was coming from as it got later that we ended up cutting out early to get home, but it was still a good night...

We need more pictures of the hubs. He's usually the trigger happy one behind the camera so... next time, can I have the camera, please??? (Camera hogger!)

Of course, I am telling you all about this now when I should be sleeping because insomnia has officially taken over me. But at least I'm smiling.

Dirty No More

I suppose this is why routines are so important for babies. Now that she is aware of her surroundings and expects certain things at certain times of the day, I get to shower! I mean a full one. All week I've been clean! Yes, this is uber exciting to me. She wakes up between 6A-7A for her morning bottle. I bring her into bed with me and she sleeps for another 2-3 hours. Anywhere between 9A-10A, she gets whimpery. It's her "mummy, I wanna get up" whimper. So I put her toy mat in the middle of the bed, turn the shower on, and she quiets down. I jump in the shower, get dressed and she's just there... playing. She's such a good baby. Her nighttime and morning routines are pretty well set. Now if I can just get her to nap without having to be there with her....

Warm Fuzzies

Okay, so it turns out Squirmy is big for her age group. Height and weight, both. BUT, the doctor said she's in perfect proportion. If she were lighter, she'd be underfed for her length and if she were shorter, she'd be considered chunky (-er). SO THERE! I am so totally, utterly, helplessly in love with this little creature. All mine. Chunky or not.

A friend of mine said to me the other day something along the lines of, "Life is too short to be unhappy about other people". She was referring to someone and some event going on in her life currently. And following that comment, she said, "I'd rather choose to accept [name of person] and what said person does, for what it is". All it took for her to feel that way was the sole fact that the other person needs her. That put me to shame a bit. I am one to shave off the things/people that do not fit into my life because, well, they do not fit. I find it to be a waste of energy and time. Like fitting a puzzle piece that doesn't belong in the completed picture. Instead, my friend chooses to accept the way certain things are for the simple fact that they just are. These are the qualities I very much lack that I hope my Squirmy will learn from others in our lives. Thanks, pal. Literally, and well, even a bit sarcastically (for making me a little ashamed of myself).