On My Soapbox: Baby Know-It-All Edition

Our Christmas holiday was filled with a lot of fun, a lot of food, a lot of friends, a lot of family, and a lot of - something that's only an indirect f-word in this scenario - surprises: a couple very close to us gave us the gift of impeding baby news. I am excited, as the misery that is parenthood loves nothing more than company, and I'm always happy to learn of a pregnancy that's not mine. This is their first go-round so they asked me if I had any tips. I asked, "For pregnancy, babies, or general child-raising?" She responded, "Anything you can give me."

Being put on the spot, and having just emerged from the mind-numbing newborn phase, my first thought was: take up smoking marijuana and light day-drinking to tide you over until the heavy drinking starts after the kids go to bed.

After some time, and a little more serious thought, I came up with the following that isn't quite as white trash but still just as honest.

* The first two months will exponentially suck. Even if they don't and you have a "good baby," a wrench in the shape of Benjamin Button has just been thrown into your life and adjustment is inevitable. Your relationship will be tested, self-doubt will completely wash away every good thought you ever had about yourself, and you'll realize that while you could do it no-problem in college, you actually can't survive on only three hours of sleep. But right around the 2-month mark is when the little, wrinkly, screaming thing you've been wrestling with gives you a smile that will forever instantly melt away all of your frustrations for the rest of your life. Until then, though...

* Taking up some sort of recreational activity will save your sanity. Unfortunately, since most parents are too tired, can't find the time, and are too poor to leave the house, drinking heavily becomes your recreation by default. But although there are other in-home activities...

* Sex is no longer pleasurable since it's the thing that brought you into this hell. Or maybe it's just because...

* There is a mourning period. All you've done and learned how to do is take care of yourself and keep yourself from accidentally too early kicking the bucket. Suddenly, yourself is the last thing you're thinking of. While some people transition to this fairly easily, most of us don't and can feel some resentment that we can no longer enjoy the mundane time-wasters we did before. Was it actually possible that we spent an entire Saturday on the couch watching Top Gear?! And you'd pretty much sell your soul in a second to be able to do it again, which is why kid-free weekends feel like you're in literal heaven (and are a MUST). So...

* Don't let Tom Cruise tell you otherwise, Post-Partum Depression is a real thing. The meds may make it impossible to have an orgasm, but doing something about the depression is necessary. And even if it doesn't look or feel like everything you've ever heard on the news (yay for not envisioning drowning your kids in the bathtub!), it's still something many suffer from and can last well beyond baby's 1st birthday. That aside...

* Don't freak if you're not instantly smitten. All you hear about is how celebrities are instantly, insanely in love with their newborns so if you don't feel it yourself you think something is wrong with you and might do something drastic. Right after Zoey was born, my mom asked me, "Aren't you just so in love?!" I had to think about it and came to, no, I'm not. There is an instant, obvious connection, especially for the mother, but, for the most part, you are strangers; you need to learn about the baby and the baby needs to learn about you. From my personal experience, I didn't feel the physical, gut-wrenching love until both Zoey and Holden smiled at me for the first time (and definitely started sleeping better). But it's all biology - even if it's not there in the beginning, it *will* be there. Making it just a wee bit harder, though...

* Say good-bye to surround-sound. And anyone speaking above a whisper will seem entirely too loud. For the first couple of months all it does is sleep, then all you want is for it to sleep, and while noise level doesn't always have an affect on baby-sleep, your nervous system will tense at every micro-noise. But although noises will seem forbidden, you'll experiences them in ways you never thought possible. You'll just be prevented from being the one making them. Also...

* Prepare to lose wrestling matches to an infant. You may work out every day, be able to run through beach sand, scale mountains, or do one-handed push-ups but you are never weaker than when trying to wrestle an infant into clothing. People who put tights or jeans on their babies are either incredibly crazy or deserve some kind of medal. I am neither so the most Holden wears is full-body pajamas when we leave the house. Otherwise it's short-sleeved onsies all the way. In that vein...

* Figuring out a way to split baby-duties is tough but necessary. The Who-Is-Doing-More pissing contest will inevitably happen no matter what but if in reality things are split pretty squarely, it can't get too overblown. It doesn't seem like it, but rational thought is actually possible during this time. And makes it so you...

* Don't let outside influences make you feel inadequate. Your baby will make you feel inadequate enough, you don't need to entertain the opinions of others who don't spend night and day in your house. I had a house full of people as I let my baby cry-it-out because a 30-minute nap just wasn't going to cut it. Judge if you want, but what you think really isn't my problem (which will slowly become your mantra). And although it may always seem like it...

* Your job isn't to keep your child constantly pleased. Fed, dry, content, out of harms way, sure, but it's ok for them to be pissed off and/or not get what they want. Once again, with guests, I let Holden cry it out at bedtime (just to be clear, when I say this, I mean he cries for a max of five minutes), and someone *coughmydadcough* asked me, "If he doesn't want to go to bed, why did you put him to bed?" I responded, "Because I let him make all the decisions?" For the first few months, being happy and healthy will be one in the same since all they want to do is eat, sleep, and be dry, but eventually getting out of that habit can be tough. So...

* It's never too early to establish a schedule. Ok, 6-weeks is too early, but babies tend to slowly fall into habits like eating and sleeping every certain (i.e. 2-3) hour. Parents, being the arguable ring-leaders of this circus, can either gently guide a baby to a schedule (lots of books can help with this), or shoot it to shits. I'm a type-A schedule-person so having a baby not on a schedule was just not an option. Like I...

* Prepare to plan trips to the grocery store weeks in advance. Or anything else that involves leaving the house, if it even gets that far. I learned how to make my own cream-based soups (i.e. Cream of Mushroom for casseroles) because loading me, a toddler, and an infant into the car for something that wasn't life or death was just entirely too much work. But...

* As soon as you begin to count on something, it will change. Sure, Holden has a schedule so I'm better able to predict what he might want or need at any given moment, but kids throw curve balls better than the Majors. Remember what I said about feelings of inadequacy before? Yep. And just to keep the curve-balls coming...

* Although you'll spend most of your time questioning the validity of your existence and the level of your adequacy, you actually do know what you're doing. Those things called instincts kick in and even though you may be questioning everything you do, you really are doing everything right. Hey, as long as it's still alive and kickin', right? Well...

* Right and wrong become subjective; it's all about survival from one minute to the next. You have intentions of doing everything "perfect," and "by the book," but after awhile you forget what that even is. Desperation kicks in and you just want to save your sanity and maybe even have a hot meal. But just...

* Accept it, your house will never be clean. At least within the first few months, and the most cleaning you'll be able to do is moving organized piles around so you can enjoy at least one clean corner of the house at a time. Like I told a friend of mine, Holden is five months old and it has taken those entire five months (and a few weeks) to feel like I had any sort of control over the house situation. And it's still considered a good week if no one (besides myself) runs out of clean underwear. While this doesn't seem possible...

* Time ceases to have meaning and you will be at least 30 minutes late to everything (which is why doctor appointments need to be planned months in advance). And every trip outside of the home feels like you're packing up and fleeing the country. Thus...

* Time moves exponentially fast. Even though you'll be aware of every second of the clock, your days will go by in the blink of an eye. Sometimes days will go by so fast that they'll melt together to form one giant super day.Which only contributes to the fact that...

* Pregnancy Brain is a real thing. Baby Brain is even real-er, transitioning nicely to Kid Brain, then full-on dementia. Basically, you'll never remember anything again for the rest of your life. Except when...

* Suddenly, without warning, and even though you swore you never would, you sound exactly like your parents. And you don't even care, doubling your shock with the realization that your parents weren't heartless robots, and that they actually *did* know what they were doing and weren't just trying to make your life as miserable as possible. "My parents did it with me and I turned out fine," will become the words you live by. But...

* Know - or at least remind yourself at every turn - that nothing lasts forever, the good and the bad. There will be good days and bad days, but they'll all end with the beautiful gift of bedtime. And one thing I've learned after this second - and final - time around is that through the bad times - the newborn phase, teething, disastrous naps and night sleeps, the Terrible Two's - wonderful things will emerge: a gummy, drooly grin, 12-hour night-sleeps, and a sweet, smart, spunky child.

Obviously I'm leaving out a ton but having only been in the game for four and a half years, I still have quite a bit to learn and experience myself. No one will ever be an expert or have all of the advice, which is why it truly takes a village to raise a child (and why there are so many books and child how-to's that contradict each other). All we can do is offer what worked for us. I'm happy to be part of this couple's village and can't wait to meet the new little booger.

Meet Mr. McIntyre!

In all of my 32 years, I've never had friends who threw me a party. When I got married, my so-called "best friends" didn't do boo to celebrate my nuptials, just performed the most basic of bridesmaid duties, made a bad name for themselves in Red Lodge, and visited Shotgun Willies, one of two strip clubs at the edge of Billings, before blowing town without so much as seeing seeing where I lived. So when my friends Meredith and Ashley - who I wouldn't have even known if Meredith hadn't included us both on an e-mail chain - thought to throw me a baby shower for McBun 2.0, just their intentions were enough to make me all misty-eyed. But knowing me and Jacob, knowing the general nature of baby-showers, and knowing people would rather ogle a baby than watch an over-sized woman who is clearly uncomfortable trying to pretend she's comfortable, they opted to throw a Meet The Baby party once Holden was born.

 My little man and I all dressed up for his debut.

 We were lucky enough to have Jacob's Uncle Randy and his wife, Tammy, come up from Wyoming to meet Holden.

 Done having babies of her own but unable to get enough of them, Debbie is happy to take over baby-duty any time (with her youngest, Myla, taking notes.) It's friends like these...

 Aunties Meredith - assist-er-in-birth, all-around awesome person and party-thrower - and Debbie, with the star of the show.

 At just 3 weeks old, his tie collection already surpassed that of his father's.

One of the main reasons we decided against a traditional baby shower was the games. Jacob and I aren't much for them, especially in scenarios where we're the center of attention, but this one was pretty great. 

 

And I kept the diapers for posterity. Neither of my children have baby books so commemorative diapers will have to do.

I invited everyone I knew in Montana - even a couple in Arizona and Wyoming - but of course not everyone was able to make it. We had a nice turnout of exceptionally nice people, with great food - all homemade by Montana's answer to The Pioneer Woman, Ashley - and great conversation. I lucked out with such great friends and my children are fortunate to get to reap the rewards. Holden is truly loved and there is no other way to enter the world.

Ding! McBun is done!

In the grand tradition of McIntyreDonahue children (i.e. Zoey), the newest McBun did not disappoint. My due date came...And went...with minimal indication that he had any ideas of being born. Besides being a little disappointed, I was also a little surprised. I've been a lot more active this pregnancy since I don't spend my days sitting behind a desk. I painted, decorated, climbed two flights of stairs multiple times a day hauling laundry, walked the dogs every night, and played with Zoey - within reason; no matter how nicely she asked, hula-hooping just wasn't going to work. I did everything in my power to get things started. Well, almost. I don't like spicy food, and you couldn't pay me to do the other thing. But baby was not to be persuaded by anything but his terms, most notably by deciding to come 24 hours before I was scheduled to be induced.

I don't know if it's because I've been pregnant and given birth before, or because this was my second pregnancy and everything is a bit...looser, but I slowly started to feel my body change shortly after my due date became a distant memory. I was having pretty consistent but relatively painless contractions a few days before shit got real but my doctor appointments revealed nothing really happening - baby was still relatively high and I was barely dilated. So he scheduled me an induction, not being very confident that McBun was ready to be evicted. So, knowing it would be my last, I made one more homemade chocolate cake and frosting for after my homemade Eggplant Parmesan. (TOOT! TOOT!) Seven hours later is when shit got real.

I woke up around 2:45am with contractions I couldn't pretend were an uncomfortable dream. I loaded up my Contraction Timer app and settled in for a day of mind-numbing pain. But what was this? My contractions were coming five to ten minutes apart? No, that's not right. Like labor with Zoey, they were supposed to come 20 minutes apart for 25 hours, giving me plenty of time to prepare for this sadistically blessed event. And - most importantly - make sure I got the epidural before shit got really real.

By 8am, I could no longer walk during a contraction, standing made it feel like all of my insides were going to fall out of my butt, and screaming became a very real possibility. At 8:04am we were on the road to the hospital, which is - thankfully - only about three miles away. With only 30ish seconds in between searing pain, Jacob thoroughly enjoyed driving like a maniac a la every movie or TV show with a birth you've ever seen. I went through triage and was granted permission into the Chamber of Everything Changes, literally telling everyone I came in contact with that I'd be needing a visit from the Epidural Man. I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page: I wanted an epidural.

Epidural Man turned out to be Epidural Lady and arrived sans cart o' drugs in tow.

"Oh, I forgot to get the cart, I haven't been able to leave her (me)," said my nurse, who, in my pain-delirious state, reminded me of a My Little Pony.

"Where is one?" asked Epidural Lady. Are you fucking kidding me?! Why do you not tug around two at a time just for moments such as these?!

"There's one down by triage," Nurse MLP informed Epidural Lady. Run! Run like the wind, Lady!

The sacred cart finally arrived, and the pain and fear gently subsided as the warmth of a local anesthetic slowly ran down my legs and into my toes.

Completely relaxed, I was able to rest up for the main event but was still having contractions like gang-busters. After monitoring my contractions for a while, the nurses informed me that I was having irritants - like, mini-contractions - in between my main contractions. Apparently, my body was taking no prisoners. Although I could not - Praise the Lord! - feel much of what was going on down south, the nurses told me I was progressing quickly and estimated McBun would be born by 2pm that afternoon, a far cry from Zoey's birth, which took another 13 hours after checking into the hospital, even after being given Pitocin.

Shortly after 11am, Nurse MLP began rolling me from side to side (hour on one side, hour on the other) in an effort to get McBun further down. I could vaguely feel my contractions and she said her goal was for me to feel the urge to push. I wasn't really sure what she meant by this, with Zoey, they just told me it was time to push, I cried and said, "I DON'T WANNA!" and then I pushed. But oh holy crap, there it was! It wasn't so much an urge to push as it was something trying to push its way out of me. The doctor requested I perform a test-push then declared me ready to have a baby.

Once, twice, three times, McBun was born! At 12:40pm, weighing in at 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 19 3/4 inches long. And so, we are pleased to introduce the newest star of Montana Roadtrippin', Mr. Holden Darcy McIntyre.

 A BIG welcome from the BIG sister. She wanted to look *just* right for her visit to the hospital to see her new baby brother for the first time. Like the rest of us, she's completely smitten, is constantly declaring how "adorable!" he is, and we've actually had to stop her giving him kisses. It will be nice to tell them of these days when they're older and fighting like cats and dogs.

 Welcome home!

 It's a boy, I say!

 Getting acquainted with Daddy.

You are beyond loved already, Baby Holden. Thank you for coming into our world.

Nesting

One of the signs of impending labor is the desire to nest - "nesting." All of a sudden, the house you couldn't care less was clean suddenly *must* become the most pristine space this side of Martha Stewart's conviction. While I do have my urges to clean, organize, cook, and bake (I've recently discovered the pleasures of homemade chocolate cake), I've found that my nesting has taken on a different shape. (Totally didn't mean that to rhyme; Sesame Street must be seeping into my subconscious.)

With two dogs, a toddler, three floors, and two and a half bathrooms, the ambition to clean is a lot higher than the chances of me actually doing it. Jacob considers himself lucky if he's able to locate clean socks and underwear. And when I asked why he waited until Sunday at 8pm to tell me he'd ran out of underwear, he took his life in his hands when he (jokingly) replied, "Well, I thought the mound of dirty laundry would have been a clue."

No, I've decided that the best way to get my home ready for the McBun is to keep my current babies - fur, non-fur, even husband - nice and exhausted. Here are some ways we've been doing that.

 Ready to "beach" it up at Lake Elmo!

 She said, "Look! I'm the Pioneer Woman!"

 This kid had a way better mud puddle, though.

It made me afraid how unafraid she was to continue deeper into the water.

Who loves Lake Elmo?!

 The beach - which she insisted, "IT'S NOT A BEACH! IT'S ELMO LAKE!" - wasn't enough to wear her out and she wanted to visit the nearby playground.

 The rainy days have decreased, but the Mommy-is-too-exhausted-to-do-anything-but-sit days have increased so we've turned to painting. These are during her Portraits phase. This is Louis...

 This is Mommy...

 And this is Daddy. Sorry Durbin.

 Bringing back an old favorite, painting our rock collection. Nothing better on a rainy day than getting high on nail polish fumes.

 This was Father's Day, presenting Daddy with his very first homemade card.

And she helped Daddy with his daddy-ish chores, which is what the day is all about.

By the evenings, none of us really feel like doing much, but we've dragged ourselves out for a few activities.

 On various Friday evenings this summer, in a variety of different parks, the city put on movies free of charge. We made several attempts at going that ultimately didn't work out but we made a come-Hell-or-high-water attempt when Frozen was being shown.

 Playing with some fellow Frozen-lovers before it started.

 Snacks n' Suit, she was set!

 Oh, and her favorite person in the world, Mer.

Daddy took the opportunity of playing second-fiddle to take a snooze during the movie.

Every year I devise a new reading goal for myself. Since I have a good many books at home that I haven't read, I decided that this year shall be Reading What is Already On My Shelf. I've discovered two loopholes, however: Mer's personal bookshelf and the library. 

Things certainly have changed since my days of happily spending eight hours at the library. Now I have to have a clear idea of the book I want, have looked it up on the online catalog at home, making sure it's on the shelf, writing down where in the library it can be found, then trying to keep a grabby 3-year old from pulling all of the books off the shelf while I look for it, while constantly reminding her to use her "inside voice." Then - my books in hand - we go to the children's area so she can do her thing. One day, we met my friend and fellow Stay-at-Home mom for Story Time and Make and Take Crafting.

 Myla, Eliza, and Zo getting their cutting on.

 She found popping the bubble wrap exponentially more entertaining, often declaring, "I need more bubble wrap to pop!"

 It was a little bit of a struggle, but I managed to get her interested in the actual craft. The fact that it entailed gluing was a big bonus.

 Her finished product - a bubble-wrap butterfly that she named Myla after the friend with whom she was at the library. (We got home later that day and she named her xylophone Eliza after her friend's big sister.)

 Eliza, Zoey, and their new butterfly companions reading books in the children's play area.

If it weren't for our children, we'd have zero social life. So it was over a particularly hot, over-100-degree weekend that we met up with my friend and her son - Zoey's friend, Eli, who she insists the baby will be named after - at a wading pool in one of the city parks.

 The water was actually cold, which I appreciated as it meant there was a lesser chance that anyone had peed in it.

 Workin' the boys at the pool already.

 Luckily this time it was only to play with his monster trucks.

Gettin' some sun on the bump. And I happened to be the main attraction with little kids staring at me, and coming up to me asking questions like, "Is that a baby in your belly?" One particularly inquisitive - and persistent - young man kept asking me, "Why is there a baby in your belly?" I finally answered, "I honestly don't know what to tell you, kid. You should ask your mother."

On the way home, we stopped at a place for Daddy to have some spiritual worship: a car show.

 A girl after his own heart, she was very interested in all of the cars and what they looked like inside.

Naturally, she was drawn to ones that were juuuuussstt her size.

I'm a little too big and unwieldy to take the dogs on any sort of adventure like we did to Cooney Dam so we've been wearing them out by taking them on evening walks throughout the neighborhood. There is something about being pregnant and wanting to get Durbin leash-trained, the last time I put any sort of real effort into it was when I was pregnant with Zoey (I leash-trained Louis when I lived in Florida and he'd put me flat on my face over a gum wrapper blowing down the street).

 Zoey picked out her walking outfit herself, while Louis and I like to coordinate.

So, the house is nowhere near clean, the baby's room in no welcoming shape, but at least we're all extremely exhausted. Hmmm. Perhaps I didn't think this through...