It's all about me today.

About Me

Because my delightful friend S. over at Mashed Bananas has tagged me to do this quiz, I will. First of all, not one to disappoint, secondly, I love these little surveys and can never seem to resist the temptation to do them. Especially while at work. So, today is a timeout from baby talk.

What was happening in my life 10 years ago:
Can I even remember back that far? Let's see...April of 1998...I was a 20-year old college sophomore who had just ended a hideously torturous relationship with a boyfriend of almost 4 years. At the time, it seemed like the world and was something I had been meaning to do for at least a year, I just didn't know how. I always wondered how I let things get that far. I had no idea what to major in except that somehow I thought that business was a good idea, which was probably the worst idea I'd ever had. I think accounting was on the agenda that semester and that was all it took for me to change my mind again. I had been living with a girl I knew from the dorms because my best friend (who went to Hays at the time) had bailed on transferring to KU and we just decided what the heck? She wasn't a bad roommate...she wasn't great. Although we were friends, it was mostly just a roommate situation. I was waiting tables at Carlos O'Kelly's and loving it. I met some great friends there - and had so much fun working. It never actually seemed like work...I was even planning to move in with two girls from there when my current lease was up. I was basically cruising along, making good money, enjoying classes and the occasional KU baseball game (quarter dog night - yesss!). Overall, I'm with Mashed Bananas...sophomore year wasn't one of my best...things were just about to get interesting...think it's any connection to the fact that my 21st was just a few months away?

What was happening in my life 5 years ago:
In spring of 2003, I had just returned back to Kansas from Sag Harbor, NY, where I had nannied for a year. I looked after two little girls, ages 1 & 3, and enjoyed most of it. I lived in a fantasy world where money was no object, moms didn't work and I still don't know what they did with all of their time when they had nannies taking care of their kids. I lived 5 minutes from the beautiful beaches of East Hampton, two hours from NYC, and 45 minutes from a fantastic outlet mall! I was back in Kansas with no idea what to do except start throwing my resume at anyone who would read it, and I was madly in love with my future husband (whom I'd reconnected with over Thanksgiving while home from NY), and was grateful to be back around people I loved, and start my own life. At times, I did miss NY and wondered if I was missing out by not staying there. I can now say that leaving there wasn't such a bad idea...after all, I have hubby and Jack now.

5 things on my to-do list today:

1. Finish peeling the hideous wallpaper off of Jack's bathroom wall. Get out of my life, purple and green ivy!
2. Work on getting ads placed for our next show.
3. Get a poster finished for the lobby
4. Start making invitations for a baby shower I'm having for my darling friend, Jess.
5. Go see G-ma in the hospital after work...gall bladder recovery. Bah.

5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Guacamole - or frankly just avocados. I'll eat them with a spoon.
2. Edemame - surprising since the other day I ate a whole bag and ended up with a belly ache.
3. Crackers - Wheat Thins, Cheez-Its, you name it.
4. Chips & Dip
5. Dark Chocolate

5 things I would do if I were a billionaire:
1. Quit my job and have more babies - and stay home with them!
2. Build a new house and purchase another one somewhere warm.
3. Pay off all debt - family members included.
4. Hire a personal trainer and chef. :)
5. Invest, invest, invest.
6. Donate a huge chunk to KU and any other worthy cause, go on a shopping spree on 5th Avenue, and travel like crazy!

5 bad habits:

1. I am ridiculously critical of myself. I compare myself to everyone. From my skin to my body, I am too hard on myself and hubby gets so cranky with me.
2. OMG, S., I am so with you on this one that I had to use it - I always interrupt. I am just like you and I get so excited that I can't wait to tell my story. I love to hear everyone's and don't mean to one-up, I just get in a hurry!
3. I am anal about things that I probably shouldn't be, but I like things the way I like them. It's my dad in me.
4. I read too many gossip magazines and web sites. I can't help it - seeing the ridiculousness of some celebrities makes me feel better about myself!
5. I have been procrastinating at work a lot lately. Oops.

5 places I've lived:
1. Gypsum, KS
2. Lawrence, KS
3. Sag Harbor, NY
4. Salina, KS
5. Does the Bahamas count? I lived there for 6 weeks when I nannied. A short lease, but a fabulous one!

5 jobs I've had:
1. Dillons carry-out girl.
2. Waitress
3. Marketing & Sales for a semi-pro basketball team
4. Mom
5. Marketing Director/Director of Operations (or Princess Fifi to my boss) at a community theatre

5 people that I'm "tagging," which means now THEY need to do this survery:
I think S. covered everyone I would have tagged, which probably means that I need to meet more people who have their own blogs!!

A New Life

The first few weeks of Jack's life were surprisingly easy. We would sit around watching him as he was sleeping, eating, taking in the sights of his new home outside my belly. I studied him for hours at a time. His little nose, huge blue eyes, and of course, what had now become a wild mess of hair resembling a rooster. His hair stood on end and was fantastic. Of course the in-laws wanted me to cut it and would smash it down when they saw him. Which pissed me off to no end. Cut my child's hair at a week old? A month? You must be joking. I was terrified that they would cut it when I wasn't looking. My mom said his hair was just like mine...when it dried it would stand straight up...I guess he inherited my cowlicks, too.

Jack was the most chilled out baby. He hardly ever cried (I know, all parents say that). He ate like a champ. I was concerned at first about our dogs and they were great. Well, actually, one of our dogs couldn't care less - if he couldn't pet and give love (or biscuits and chews) she wanted none of it. Our Dalmatian became a mother hen and protector. She would sit at my side as I held him, curious about this little being that had taken my affections.

I felt great...I lived in my sweats - because they were the only thing that fit. My belly was still bulging a bit - a giant Jell-o Jiggler. I decided that after about 5 days doing nothing but sitting in the house that it was time to get my butt moving. I decided to walk on the treadmill. I had no idea how much the birth had taken out of me until about 1o minutes into the walk, I was exhausted. Who knew? Some people thought I was crazy - and yes, some of it was vanity, but I needed my clothes to fit. I needed to start feelng like myself again and exercising helps me de-stress and re-energize. Walking it was. I didn't want to care what I looked like, but I did. It didn't help that 2 weeks after he was born, my neice asked me why my belly was still fat. Thank you for that, sweetie.

Jack went with me everywhere. Those weeks of maternity leave, I kept Target in business. Do I need more onesies? Yes, of course - he has nothing boyish - it's all neutral! Do I need to purchase him that darling shirt in size 2T? He will most certainly need it one day. I also need to stop by the mall and pick up some new shoes - since those are the only things that fit me!

Jack fell asleep almost immediately in the car, something for which I was thankful for because if he cried and I couldn't help him, I cried. It broke my heart. He was my little pal and companion. Hubby would leave for work and Jack would settle in his little papasan chair so I could shower and get ready for the day. I carried him through the store in my priceless Baby Bjorn carrier. I wanted to be as close to him as I could. Good lord, I loved this child. I never could have known what he would mean to my life. He changed me. I couldn't be selfish - I didn't want to. As the days ticked by, anxiety about going back to work settled in. How in the world would I leave him?

Burp cloths became my other constant. The child could spit! If he ever actually kept down a full meal, I felt like I deserved some sort of medal. We tried every "remedy" we could think of before we realized that he wasn't the only child in the world with this issue. Sleeping angled up? Check. Holding upright for 30 minutes after eating? Check. Switching sides more often, extra burping. Whatever - none of it works. We learned to bring lots of bibs, extra clothes and burp cloths. He spit up on everyone, anytime. I couldn't even think of putting on anything decent until I knew he was finished. Forget the gorgeous bottles atop my dresser...the perfumes I cherished. Eau de baby barf was my new signature scent.

He was not a great sleeper. And we tried it all. I think we actually wanted him to get up so that we could hang out with him some more. The crib went untouched for at least 3 weeks - we wanted him with us. And he seemed to only want to sleep when he was nestled into our arms, curled up like a tiny little ball. We were truly wrapped around his miniature fingers.

I'm Still Here!

Well, here I am. After a 1 year hiatus, I have rejoined the land of the bloggers and decided to pen (type?) the beginning of my story as a mother. Folks, prepare to be awed and amazed!

First of all, my little baking lasagna decided to arrive on February 8, 2007. Due date was the 1st, but baby had other plans...I left work on Friday, February 2, with high hopes of delivering before the weekend was out. Nevermind that nothing - and I mean nothing - was going on inside my ginormous belly. The days passed...I walked on the treadmill as fast as I could, I ran errands all over town, I dilligently cleaned the house - even the basement - willing the baby to get the heck out! I wasn't uncomfortable, I was just so darn anxious to meet the little one that I could hardly contain myself.

On February 7, I began contractions and for the entire day, I grimaced through the pain of every five minutes contractions. I even made a trip to the hospital (I swear they told me to!) and was embarassingly sent home after an hour. So, I ate the spiciest salsa known to man and paced the house. I stretched out on my exercise ball. I drank chamomile tea. I took a bath, a shower...I watched my beloved Jayhawks play the hated KSU Wildcats in pain and could barely enjoy the victory. During the night, I'd sleep for 1-2 minutes at a time between contractions. I was exhausted. At 5 in the morning, I took another shower and hubby said, forget it, we're going. I've seen enough! Of course, I had to put make up on (don't tell me you wouldn't) and make sure the hair was somewhat in tact.

We settled in at about 6 in the morning and I had made it to a 3. At this point, I was still opting for no drugs (stupidly) and an hour or so later, I found myself agreeing to something to "take the edge off". Hmmm. Not so much...no edges touched, let alone taken off. I felt like a drunkard on spring break. Hideous. When I got to about a 5, the nurse simply stated, "You don't have to be a hero. Get the epidural." Consider it done. By this time I was so exhausted and needed a break from laboring through contractions for 24 + hours, I figured I'd done enough. The true work would begin later and I wanted to rest up. I remember being checked and the nurse saying baby's heartbeat would rise when she would tickle its head. I was getting so excited. The next few hours passed - I tried to sleep a little, chatted with the family and waited for the time to come. I slowed down, then progressed from 5-9 with pitocin and was told that by noon I'd be pushing. They weren't lying...at 12:15ish, I began and it was so hard. But easy. Can that be possible? Somehow, my body knew how to push, my head was going to explode...hubby said he thought my veins would burst. The doctor and family were exactly how I wanted them - everyone was relaxed, we all talked between pushes and baby got a little closer each time.

Now, I just want to remind you all (first time preggers, especially) to never, never look at your reflection in the tv hanging on the wall. You know what it looks like down there, ladies. I did - I peeked at the urging of the nurse (who the hell are you, lady?) and saw a bursting mess with a baby's head barely peeking through. Yes, yes, it sounds beautiful and wonderful, but it's not a sight for sore eyes by any means. The good news was that I actually could see the baby. It had tons of hair. A little moppet! Was it a girl? A boy? Who was this person that I had already begun to love enormously?

I pushed for about 45 minutes and at 1:03pm, the little one was born...a boy!!! Jack Everett, he would be named...Jack because we loved it, Everett after my beloved, wonderful Grandpa who'd passed away less than a year before (I'm crying just typing those words). I can't describe how I felt when he finally came out...love, relief, exhilaration, joy...so many emotions all tied up into this little wonder. He came in at 7lbs 2oz and 19.5 inches long. He hollered and my fabulous doctor and nurse laid him on my chest and I was in heaven. Nevermind that I was open legged on a table surrounded by my sister, mom, dad, and husband, or that we were both covered in gunk...it was the best moment of my life. He was perfect...a mop of delicious brown hair and dark blue eyes. We all cried at this amazing little person and I looked at my husband and loved him even more. I loved this baby. Baby love is incredible...it's instant and wonderful. There's nothing like it in this world. I felt like I had joined a secret club that only moms know about. Jason took him out into the hallway (I can't believe they let him do this!) and he lifted him in the air to a deliriously happy waiting room full of family members - who at several points during the labor had listened anxiously by the door. Did I mention that photos were being snapped and by some wondrous event, my lip gloss had stayed in tact the entire morning. So there I am, tears running down my face with this baby wrapped in my arms, with a delicious sheen of whatever flavor I threw on that morning. My vanity was still in tact and I managed to look decent. Any mother will tell you that it's paramount to look presentable because millions of pictures will be taken and no one wants to look like they actually did just give birth. Ha.

Now, I will not tell you about the events that ensued "down there" because that would just be unladylike, and we all know that if anything, I am a lady. For the rest of the day, I think we were the McDonalds of the hospital...over 1 billion served. The line of visitors and well-wishers was endless...and although I was thrilled that we had so many loved ones, I just wanted to sit and stare at my swaddled little delight. He looked just like me. He really did! Our baby pictures are identical. And I have to say, that something inside of me was so pleased...I felt like he lived in me and I worked hard for him and to have a little mini-me was just the most darling thing. I wanted him to be all mine. I never wanted to let him out of my sight.

I skipped over the nursing part. I didn't mean to do that to all of you devoted readers...but within an hour of being born, I was nursing my baby for the first time. It was amazing. I didn't know how I would feel, but I immediately felt a bond with him that I cannot put into words. I loved that he needed me so much because I needed him more.. I loved that this was our private time. No one else could share these moments with him.

During the course of the night, we did allow Jack to go to the nursery...we were advised to get rest and relaxation over the night because we needed it. Poor hubby slept on a ridiculous reclining chair. I seem to recall being invaded by the nurses twice...taking blood and what the hell, did she really ask me if I had farted lately? What was that about? Did I mention that the shrew turned on the light for this nonsense? Did she not see the lamp next to the bed of steel I was laying on? Not that it mattered, I was so tired I could have slept outside on the sidewalk.

When I woke up in the morning and remembered that I was a mom and that my life was forever altered, I was so happy. It was real. He was here and I couldn't wait to get him home. But first I had to shower - possibly the most exquisite shower I have ever taken. I was timid and sore and moving pretty slowly, but things were good. The numbing spray was working! Going to the bathroom was a whole other experience...changing my "diaper" (oh lord), spraying the hot water all over myself (random, but delightful) and gently tending to my war wounds. Sounds bad, but it's not. It's not great, but it's worth it.

Jack's go-home outfit was huge! It was a newborn and it was hanging off his little body. What a peanut he was...he couldn't even muster up the energy to open his eyes during the picture. We carted him off with all of our equipment, bags, pillows, and the rest of the cargo and headed home where we'd begin our new lives as a family.