Zoen - One Month! And 5 Days

So, my sweet, snuggly youngest is already a month old.

I'm flat out in denial of this.

Thankfully, he still curls up over my shoulder to sleep and I don't plan on forcing that whole "sleep in his bed" thing anytime soon.

He perpetually looks surprised when he's really awake.  Either that or cross-eyed.  He'll figure it out eventually.  In the mean time, it CRACKS us up.

This kid is a lot like his oldest sister was as a baby... sweet, easy, mellow, relaxed.

But he's LOUD.  My goodness, he's loud.  I'll settle down in bed and be right about to drift off to sleep when I hear, *Snarfle snarfle, grunt grunt* "EHHHHHHH.  EHHHHHHHHH." *Grunt, grunt*  And inevitably, when I haul myself over to his bassinet to check on him, he's sound asleep. Of course.

He's loud when he nurses, too.  I settle down to nurse him and his grunts and sighs turn heads from clear across the room.  He totally reminds me of a piglet. (Don't worry, I think they're irresistibly cute, too).

And truly, at the rate he's growing?  That's apt.  We left the hospital with him at 7 lbs, 14 oz.  He's now 11 lbs, 8 oz. Ginormous.

When he's up on my shoulder, he has a way of wrapping one of his arms around my arm in a half-hug.

Not terribly clear, but the only pic I have of him doing this.

He's still a thumb sucker on occasion, something I'm encouraging, despite raised eyebrows from others.  Hey, he's my fourth kid. I've had a pacifier user, a finger sucker, and a kid for whom NOTHING but me would suffice.  I'll go on record saying that the kid who sucked her fingers was by far the easiest in the middle of the night.  So, we'll keep hoping for the thumb to become a nice, self-soothing habit.

He sleeps best when he's belly-to-belly with me, holding his head tipped back and his hands under his chin.  I'm not complaining. He's nice and warm. And the snuggles! I'm drinking in all of the delicious baby snuggles I can handle.

I usually write my updates to the kid I'm talking about, but this time? That would have gotten dreadfully sentimental... all the same, I will, for a second.

So, Z?  You're 100% adorable, completely sweet, and your belly button is totally shaped like a cinnamon roll.   Never doubt for a second how loved and cherished you are.

Love,

Mama

Mr. Mischief - Also Known As Sayer

Where a newborn is delightful in his simplicity and ease, a toddler, full of complications and contradictions, is a source of smiles too.

I say smiles, because really, sometimes?  I could yell, cry, and gnash teeth.  But it's more fun to laugh, so... that's where I land.

Yesterday, I took Zoen back to my room to change him and decided to rock him for a bit in the relative quiet to see if he'd settle to sleep.  The girls came tearing back into my room, "MOM! MOM! Come quick! Sayer is putting water in one of the cups!"  I took my time getting up, (because really, how much damage can water do?  Yeah, go ahead and laugh at me now), and reached my doorway to intercept the girls racing towards me again.  "MOOOOOM!  YOU HAVE TO COME RIGHT NOW!"  Then I heard Sayer shrieking.  I ran into the kitchen, fearing that he accidentally turned on the hot water.

Nope.  This is what I found instead, (and yes, I took pictures before I got him down).

I'm still not 100% sure I know how he got up there.  I'm just thankful that I had done the dishes that day.

He's a mess.  But a cute mess.  Just a few minutes ago, he was pestering loving his baby brother when I came over to redirect him.  (His love is a little... rough).  When he tipped his head back to look at me, I commented on the chocolate on his chin.  He grinned, pointed to it and said,

"Lick it!"

The boy knows I like me some chocolate... but um, not that much.  (Gooey chocolate drool isn't exactly my taste).

Last night, he was in Shaun's lap, alternately noggin-ing* Shaun and loving on his brother.  (He loves his brother a lot, it seems).  Suddenly he started bouncing his belly against the baby, sumo-style, and saying, "I GET ZOEN!" and giggling.

Poor Zoen.  I suppose it's a good thing he's packing on the pounds already.  Padding.

*Noggin-ing - a la Finding Nemo where the turtles run through their "handshake" - "FIN! Noggin! DUDE!"  Noggin-ing is basically headbutting someone.  Thank you to Shaun for teaching the kids that one.

Personal Space

Those of you with small children are quietly asking, "Um, personal space? What's that?"

Exactly.

The mind has a funny way of forgetting just how intensely close and touchy a newborn baby is.  (And really, if you have to be clung to by any variety of human, isn't the tiniest and most snuggly the best choice?)

Before he was born, my personal space violations often had to do with not being able to pee in peace or having boogers wiped on my shoulder.  Not too bad.  But now?  Things are a bit different.  Now, I've got a frequently nursing snuggly little new baby on my person more often than not. Which is manageable, until the rest follow suit.

Because, you see, they LOVE their brother.  And that LOVE is trumped by no other, including love of their mom or dad.  They want to be where he is.  Right where he is. In fact, it seems that the closer they can get, the happier they are.

Which is why I often find myself nursing the baby with a toddler "hugging" him, (or rather, it's laying on him and saying, "awwwwwww."  It's like double-decker boys). Meanwhile, Caly parks herself on my shoulders and Lex wiggles her way under one of my arms.

This wouldn't be that bad if they would JUST stay STILL. But instead, I'm a Mom trapped beneath a squirming, squealing, poking, bouncing mass of children.

I know it won't last forever.  And there's something special about having all of my little ones snuggled up to me at the same time.

But someone might need to remind me of that while I'm fending off small toes from my poking into my ears and dodging flying limbs to the head. And if that person can arrange for me to pee without tiny "helpers?"  Bonus!

Things I'm Learning

Apparently, it's super fun for my 1 year old to interact with his 2 week old brother.

At least that's what I gathered from the giggles I kept hearing.

Then I rounded the corner and witnessed the cause.

Sayer would bop the sleeping Zoen on the stomach.  Zoen would startle and all of his limbs would splay outwards.  Sayer would crack up.  Zoen would relax and let his eyes close again. And, repeat.  Over and over again.

Sayer and I had a bit of a chat about how bonking your younger brother was NOT a good idea, regardless of how funny the reaction was.

Seeing as how I caught him doing it again 30 minutes later, I think I'm going to have to up the bodyguard patrol.

Sheesh.

Hey, Remember Me?

*Fixed to show the picture :)

Right, so last time you checked here, I was griping and moaning about being like, 11 months pregnant.  And now?

I've got the cutie on the outside.

We're currently dealing with our personal episode of the plague, (go figure that their second illness of the season happens to be the week the new baby comes home), but I can at least introduce the little man to you until we're all on the mend.

Zoen Nathanael  (rhymes with Owen)
8 lbs. 12 oz.
Born March 14th, 8:20am

He's mellow and darling and decidedly handsome, (according to his mother).

I'm going to steal a picture that I've already posted elsewhere for his intro, just because it's so blissfully cute and well, to be honest, I've done NOTHING in the way of photographing this kid with an actual camera.

(I know, I KNOW.  Give me a day or two, I'll get back to it).

So here's a flash to the future with baby Z... lots of these grins to come.  (And yes, I know it's blurry... but it's a smile!  Who can resist?)

So there he is, our little fourth born munchkin in all his adorable glory.  I'll have lots more in the days to come... story of his name, reactions of the kids, (they're a hoot!), and yes, pictures.

For now, checking in.

Conversations With Lex

Tonight it's just my oldest and me... hanging out while Shaun takes the other two on a double-ish date.  It's been a bit of a long day, and well, I'm ginormously pregnant.  So, while eating dinner, I remarked to the 5 year old,

"Man, I'm tired."

She grinned, pushed a chair towards me and said, "Would you like to put your feet up?"

Man, the kid knows me well.  But I continued,

"Nah, I'm just going to sleep here.  I'm going to put my head down and go to sleep. At the table. OK?"

"No, no mama, you can't sleep until Daddy gets home.  You need to watch me."

(Leave it to the first born to feel that way.  Caly would have been like, "OK!" and as soon as my eyes were closed, she'd have beelined for the chocolate).

I lifted my head and said, "Nah, you're a big girl, right?  You can watch yourself."

She gave me a look and flatly said, "Mama. I can't see myself.  Not unless I look in the mirror, mostly.  So... wake up."

Well.  Alrighty then.

(Is she my mini-me, or what!?)

For A VERY Pregnant Woman, This Could Incite a Tantrum

A few weeks ago, Shaun came home from work as usual and went back to change into comfy clothes to be a more effective child wrestler.  I heard him start snickering from the bathroom and raised my eyebrows.

I don't know about you, but generally, my bathroom experiences don't involve giggles.

Then he called me in there.

Um, my friends, in case you're not well-versed... being invited into the bathroom by your husband generally is not because he wants you to open the toothpaste.  And if he's giggling?  It's probably not because he's out of toilet paper, either.

But, I was brave.  So I ambled over and tentatively opened the door.  Nothing seemed amiss.  He was standing by the tub in his jeans and a white t-shirt.  Cracking up.

"Notice anything?"  He pointed at himself.

Nope.  He looked as normal as he does every single day.  "Uh, no?"

"Are you sure?"

I stared harder.  Then I noticed that his white t-shirt had a tiny pocket.  A decidedly feminine pocket.

"Hey... hey!  Is that-- IS THAT MY SHIRT!?"

He cracked up.  Apparently, my maternity shirts work delightfully well as men's undershirts.  He wore it almost all day before he got frustrated that it was a smidge too short and then realized it was mine.  Unfortunately for him, he didn't have a more masculine substitute so he finished out the day wearing Liz Lange Maternity.

And weirdly... it looked good on him.

Now, let's not even talk about how it makes the 5 foot tall, 9 month pregnant woman feel when she realizes her 6 foot tall, broad shouldered hubs shared a shirt with her.  A shirt that fits her well right now.  Let's not mention that at all.

At least when the laundry runs low, he has an adequate substitute.  Right?  RIGHT!?

*Ahem*

Now, someone pass me some cookies.  If I'm going to wear the shirt, I'm going to fill it out, darn it.