Two Years

0 years 

1 year

2 years

Today Denver is two years old. I think the most common piece of advice that I'm given by moms is to enjoy every minute, because you'll blink your eyes and he'll be grown.

Let me tell you, Denver's first year of life didn't really "fly by" at all.  In fact, it seemed to drag a bit. I might even call it the longest year of my life.

  Time flies when you're....eh... nursing all night long?

Well not for me. Having a baby was very difficult for me, and the year was a long one.

However, I feel like I'm finally starting to understand what all those moms were talking about. Because now, as I prepare for Denver's little two-year birthday party, it feels like it was about one or two months ago that I did all this for his one-year birthday party. 

If his first year was the longest year of my life, this last year has definitely been the quickest. Maybe I'm more cut out for toddler-hood. Maybe I've just grown as a mother. 

Either way, the time is really flying by. If the next few years go as quickly as this one did, he really will be grown in a blink.

So I guess I better stop writing now, and go enjoy every moment. 

To Tweet or not to Tweet....

A few months ago, I read a blog post by one of my favorite online writers, Jon Acuff. He writes the blog Stuff Christians like, which is often very funny and sometimes surprisingly filled with wisdom.  For instance, I love how he says that frisbee is God's favorite sport, and he pokes fun at Christians for hating Harry Potter, but loving The Lord of the Rings.

This article, however, was different. It seriously made me think, and I've been thinking about it for the last several months.

http://www.jonacuff.com/blog/8-words-from-my-5-year-old-that-changed-social-media-forever/

To summarize, his 5 year old daughter was doing something adorable, and he wanted to take a picture of her. She told him "no," and when he asked why not, she replied, "because I don't want you to tweet it."

Ouch.

My son, Denver, is the cutest little thing I've ever seen. I love taking pictures and videos of him and sharing them with my family and friends. I love bragging about him and how he is so strong that he climbed out of his crib when he was only 17 months old. Or how his "older brother" is his dog, so he prefers to have his bowel movements in the backyard, because that's obviously what big kids do.

And right now he is 21 months old, and would run up and down the street naked if we let him, because he is incapable of being embarrassed or bashful.  But that won't last forever. What about when he's five? Should I still be posting every cute and funny thing he says and does?

And what about when he's twelve? Or sixteen?  Can you imagine in the hallway of his middle school...

Juanito: "Yo Denver, I heard you wet the bed last night!"

Denver: "What the heck! No I didn't! Why would you say that?"

Juanito: "Dude, your mom tweeted it. EVERYONE KNOWS."

As Acuff writes in his blog,

"I also honestly think that when my friend Carlos shared his son’s adoption story on his blog, he and his wife sent ripples online that touched thousands of lives and inspired countless adoptions.

There is great potential beauty in the things we share online. But most of us never stop long enough in the midst of the fire hose that is social media to admit that there is also potential danger.

We don’t have it figured out yet. We don’t have 100 years of precedent to fall back on. We can’t say, “Remember how Roosevelt handled social media with his family? What can we learn from his actions?” If the internet is a teenager, then in many ways social media is a toddler. We’re all just trying to figure it out. And I don’t want to figure it out on the backs of my kids."

I know that as I was growing up, my parents were very intentional about never publicly humiliating me. Even when I was disobedient they were respectful to me, and lovingly handled any situation in the privacy of our home. As an adult, I see the way that my parents' respect for me helped to mold me and shape me into who I am today, and I have a great deal of respect for them in return. I just fear that publicly sharing so many details of my son's life isn't showing him that same courtesy.

Anyway, I'm just not sure what to do.  I have good friends who don't use facebook, or have a twitter account, or blog. They just live peaceful lives with their families, unconsumed with what everyone else is doing all the time. This is becoming more and more appealing to me.

Is there some kind of happy medium though? Maybe keeping my facebook account, but closely monitoring what I put on it about my son? Or changing the settings on this blog so that only certain people can read it? Or closing the blog down all together and just occasionally emailing funny stories/pictures to close family and friends?

These are my thoughts and concerns for the upcoming months and years. I warmly welcome any suggestions or comments.

Balance

So I was recently online and I saw this little jokey-type saying that said, "I'd love to be a stay-at-home mom, just without the kids." I thought to myself, "What a horrible message! That's so negative! I'm going to get on facebook right now and exclaim my love for motherhood to counter-balance this negativity. Take that!"

But then I thought about it.

I've had a number of people say to me, "Being a mom is the best! I love every minute of it! There's nothing better." And if I hear that comment only moments after cleaning my son's poop off the floor, while simultaneously hearing him vomit one room away (true story... happened this week), then I get agitated. I feel guilty because I don't love every minute of it, and I'm jealous of this mom who does.

So then I didn't exclaim my undying love for motherhood on facebook. But I'm also not going to joke about wanting to be a stay-at-home mom without kids. Is there some kind of balance?

Those are my thoughts for today. That's just me being honest. Because I do love being a mom. I love so many things about it, and sometimes I want to scream it from the rooftops. And then just moments later I can be staring at my child, in tears, because I have no clue what to do in this situation and maybe I'm the worst mom in the world and why is there poop everywhere?!

I would just love it if more moms were a little more vulnerable and honest. So many things bring me such great joy... like finally hearing my son sort of say the word "ball" at 18 months, or how insistent he is at praying before every meal (melts my heart), or the look on his face when I get him out of his crib in the morning and he sees me, and his eyes light up like I'm the best thing in the world. (this is a very short-lived moment, however, because within five seconds he demands breakfast)

cutie-pie to the max, right?

But then sometimes your son brings you a clementine to peel while you're going to the bathroom, and without thinking you peel it for him, and you're like WHO AM I?? I need a break.

Anyway, I feel like this was possibly better suited for my own private diary than the world wide web... but isn't that what all blogging is anyway?

Thanks for listening.

I'll try to be honest about my experiences. Not whiney and negative, but not obnoxiously positive. Want to join me?

Tormenting the Dog (and other fun things...)

Our little Denver Man has gone from this...

to this...

in thirteen short months.  We are so blown away by how quickly he changes. Not only physical changes, but he is becoming less of a baby, and more of a little kid every day.  A few of Denver's favorite ways to pass the day away are...

• taking things from one place, and very carefully and methodically bringing them to another place. example: taking clean clothes out of the dryer and putting them in the trash can. another example? taking puzzle pieces and placing them in the toilet.
• he LOVES to ride around in his backpack.

yeah, he looks sort of miserable here. I guess you'll have to trust me that he actually enjoys this.

• he takes his toys and drives them full-speed into Fable's body. Then Fable scampers away, and Denver falls over laughing.  Nothing makes him laugh harder than tormenting his pobrecito puppy Fable.
• he now brushes his own hair. He gets lots of compliments on his stylish do.  I think it's beginning to look mullet-y, but we don't have the heart to cut it.
• favorite food? chicken sausage. favorite drink? mommy's milk. favorite toy: anything that makes loud noise and music and can be used as a weapon against Fable.

Our little stud muffin keeps us pretty busy, but he's also pretty cute and does pretty amazing things. So we kinda like him. :)

Denver vs. The Bottle

Denver hates bottles.

It's true. And in the great battle of Denver vs. The Bottle 2011... Denver is victorious.

Don't get me wrong... I am incredibly grateful that I've had the opportunity to breastfeed my son. I believe wholeheartedly that it is the best source of nutrition for him, and it also creates a nurturing relationship between us that he doesn't share with anyone else. It fascinates me that God created my body to not only grow a child, but then to feed that child once he is born.

For those of you who haven't been around babies much, they get hungry A LOT. In Denver's first weeks of life, he nursed "on demand," which pretty much means all the time. Then he started nursing every two hours during the day, and a couple times each night. Now we are into a routine in which he nurses five times each day.

Because he refuses to take a bottle, I have to be with him for every feeding. This means that if I want to spend an evening out of the house, I must be back home by 8:00pm for his last feeding, or I can leave after 8:30. But I can't go to dinner and a movie with my husband from 6:00 til 10:00 like we used to, because my poor child would starve.

I can hear you now... have you tried (fill in the blank) technique to get a baby to take a bottle?! Yes, I assure you I have. I decided in early March that by the end of the month, The Bottle would be victorious in the epic battle. Here is what I attempted....

• different bottle types...Dr. Brown's, Breastflow, and Adiri
• different people feeding him...myself, Austin, a friend, Austin's mom... all without success
• different times of day... morning, noon, and night
• sometimes when he was reeeally hungry, sometimes moderately hungry, sometimes right after he nursed. always uninterested... sometimes downright angry
• I tried "tricking" him. He would be nursing, and then I'd gently maneuver the bottle into his mouth instead, and he was not happy about it
• we tried outside, inside, sitting, standing, walking, rocking....

I tried to give Denver one bottle of pumped breastmilk each day for the entire month of March. I officially feel that I've missed my "window" on bottle-feeding Denver. There will be no four-hour date nights for Austin and me until Denver is weaned. And I feel like I'm finally at peace with that.

As I nursed Denver this morning, I was looking at him, and the way he looks up at me, and the way he smiles at me when he sees me, and the way he waves his arms in the air when I walk into a room like he just won the lottery... and I know that's because I'm his mommy. I'm the one who snuggles with him in the middle of the night when he's crying. I feed him when he's hungry. I have the privilege of being Denver's mother, and right now that means nursing him. Later in life there will be countless other battles. But this little guy is worth it, wouldn't you agree?

So bring on the battles Denver Amerigo Vespucci Hines! (newest nickname for my little crawling explorer)

The Heart of the Home

Another day another dirty diaper.

Sometimes I find myself thinking...

"I have a college degree. I studied, wrote papers, and my parents paid a great deal of money for my education. I taught for two years, and now here I am. My days are filled with vacuuming dog hair, changing diapers, cleaning up spit-up, and trying to get creative with cooking meals for cheap. How did I get here?"

I am currently reading Carolyn McCulley's book Radical Womanhood. She brought up a fascinating point that I had never realized before. Our American culture in 2011 seems to place a higher value on the public sphere than on the home. Since when is the home not worthy of a college educated woman running it? Since when is that a "waste" of my time and money?

McCulley writes, "The heart of the home is found in the relationships nurtured there and the comfort offered to one another--comfort we have first received from God, the Father of compassion, and then share with one another (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). Home is no lesser sphere...'Just a housewife' is a phrase our culture uses to undermine the importance of the private sphere. Though the marketplace does not value the home beyond what goods can be purchased for it, the ministry to be found there is of immense worth to the Lord. The stability of family relationships, the care of elderly or disabled family members, the discipling and training of children, the warm reception of guests, the making of a lifetime of memories, the daily modeling of biblical instruction, the fresh nourishment in an age of processed foods that contribute to our general ill health, the joy of a Christ-centered marriage--all of these things have long-lasting, if not eternal effects. "

How encouraging! I'm glad I have a college education. I don't believe that choosing to stay home now is "wasting" that money. Now I get to be an educated and empowered woman working from my home, loving and serving my family and community, even it it never makes me a dime.

a typical dinner scene at the Hines home

Seasons

About a year ago, when I was still newly pregnant with Denver, I remember thinking, "I can't wait until I get a baby bump. Then everyone will know I'm pregnant, and I'll feel justified for having all these crummy feelings." A few short months later, I got what I asked for:

At about that time, I thought, "I can't wait until this baby is born. My feet and back ache, my belly itches, and I'd like to enjoy a glass of wine over dinner with my husband."

Then Denver was born.

I had a beautiful son, and I quickly began to think, "I can't wait until this child sleeps through the night. I can't wait until my body gets used to breastfeeeding...this hurts! I can't wait until my body recovers from birth so that I can exercise again."

Well, I got all those wishes.

And now I admit that I'm thinking, "I can't wait until Denver gets through this spit-up phase... I am constantly covered in spit-up. I can't wait until he's old enough to take a sippy-cup, because he WON'T take a bottle, so I give him EVERY feeding, which greatly limits my freedom."

Then I hear a quiet voice whisper, "Caitlin, cherish these moments. You won't always be covered in spit-up. You won't always nurse your son every time he's hungry. This is a season, just like pregnancy was a season, just like having a newborn was a season."

So tonight, when Denver starts crying for his mommy to hold him (because he has gotten quite picky about who is holding him past 8pm), I will choose to cherish that time with my son. I will choose joy in this season because I know that this is just a short season, and before I know it, my sweet boy will be in another season that brings its own challenges, but also its own tender moments. Like this one...

and this one...

Good Morning Mom!

LIFE IS GOOD

Reflecting

Our little man is 3 1/2 months old right now. He (usually) sleeps through the night, he just started laughing out loud, and has also started reaching for things (a very exciting thing for mommies, probably pretty lame to most others).

Right now, life is good. I love being a mom. I mean, who could complain when you get to spend all day every day with a face like this one?

I feel like I can honestly and vulnerably admit that things haven't always been so rosy. The first few weeks of Denver's life were probably the hardest weeks of my life. I had heard of postpartum depression, but didn't know much about it. Looking back, I probably didn't officially have postpartum depression, but I think I had what people call the "baby blues," a less severe moodiness that lasts only a few weeks instead of a few months.

Keep in mind, I have always wanted to be a mom. I remember in 8th grade we all wrote what we wanted to be when we grew up. I still have that piece of paper. It says, "Caitlin Shaughnessy wants to be a housewife and a mom." I never made a very good feminist.

But I somehow missed the boat on how difficult it is to have a newborn baby. Not many people talk about what can happen to your psyche when you're extremely sleep deprived. Waking up in the middle of the night at 1:30, 3:30 and 5:30 is exhausting. My entire body ached from the birth experience and learning to breastfeed. All the images I had of parenthood included parents feeling an overwhelming love for their children. However, when Denver was about a week old, I tearfully admitted to Austin that I thought I didn't love Denver enough. He just demanded so much, I was so hormonal, and I didn't have all those ooey-gooey feelings that people seem to get for their babies.

Austin looked at me and reminded me that love isn't based in feelings. Love is a choice. Love is an action. By waking up at all hours of the night, working through the pain of early breastfeeding, sacrificing my time and energy for my son, I was loving him.

During this Christmas season, I am reflecting on God's love for his children in a new way. He loves us with a self sacrificing love. He sent his Son to earth so that we might live life to the fullest. I assume He didn't always have ooey-gooey feelings for his children. People have been rebelling against their Creator since the beginning of time. Yet he chose to love us anyway.

So to wrap up a lengthy post... I learned more about true love in Denver's first few weeks of life than I had in years. Each day that goes by, motherhood gets better. His little personality is starting to show through and we have lots of fun together. Those ooey-gooey feelings are growing daily, and the way he smiles at me melts this mommy's heart.

So this Christmas, as the band Relient K puts it, "I celebrate the day, that you were born to die, so I could one day pray for you to save my life."

proof that Denver reaches for things...

thank you Jesus for our patient dog

LOVE

As Denver gets close to being one month old, I thought I would update everyone on how our family is growing and changing...

Denver loves...

• taking baths
• being outside
• staring out the window
• going to the bathroom at the exact moment that I'm changing his diaper
• driving in the car
• going on walks
• swinging in his baby swing that our friends Ryan and Brandi let us borrow. THANK YOU!!

Denver does not love...

• getting out of the bath and drying off
• hiccups

Mama loves...

• when Denver stretches out his arms and legs as he's waking up
• watching Denver cuddle with his daddy
• going on walks around the block in this beautiful Fall weather
• 
  kissing Denver all over his face

Mama does not love...

• when Denver decides to throw a party in the middle of the night and is up for hours at a time

• when we walk away from the changing table with a clean diaper and Denver immediately fills up his new diaper

Daddy loves...

• when Denver sneezes
• getting excited about Denver and Fable being partners in crime someday
• cuddling with Denver

Daddy does not love...

• changing diapers

One of these things is not like the other...

Now, I've heard people say that you can start to lose your mind when you're pregnant. I'm not sure if I buy into that idea or not. After eating breakfast this morning, I came into the kitchen to clean my dishes. To my surprise, the juice was not in the fridge. No, it was sitting with the glassware.Maybe I would've done this even if I wasn't pregnant. But isn't it a lot more fun to blame it on the baby?