12 Month Check-up

Yesterday was Sawyer's 12 month check-up, and I was pretty nervous about it.

The only thing I was worried about was those dreaded percentiles, but as soon as we got in there we were handed a form to answer with all kinds of questions about what Sawyer is and isn't doing. Many of the questions we had never tried... or even thought of trying with him.  I suddenly felt like I was being given a pop quiz and was failing miserably.

That only caused my tension to rise. 

When the doc finally made his way into the examination room, he shocked the heck out of me. Sawyer now sits firmly at the 55th percentile for weight and the 48th percentile for height. WAHOO! YIPPEE! HALLELUJAH! I told the doctor how shocked I was, and he offered to re-weigh and measure Sawyer.  No thank you, I responded. I will take those stats and run gleefully away with them.

He shocked me again when he asked if Sawyer was identifying Michael and me specifically as "mama" and "dada".  He's been saying those syllables (along with many others) for months and months now, but neither of us have ever noticed him using those words to refer to us. 

Hmm..
the doctor said.

Then he said if it was ok with us, he was going to refer us to have a free speech evaluation done for Sawyer. 

huh?

My little boy who literally babbles all the day long and never stops "talking" needs a speech evaluation? really? for realz? 

I accepted the offer, though, because it's free and it isn't going to hurt anything. He said they will probably just give us some suggestions for exercises we can do with him.

It is official now, though, that Sawyer does in fact have the most hyper-vigilant doctor in the world... and I'm just fine with that.

We Have Arrived



How did we get here?





When this is where we started...



I look back on this year, (yes. it has been a whole year!) and I honestly can't answer that question. I should be an expert... or at least have some sage advice to pass along... but that is not the case.

Don't ask me how to get a baby to sleep through the night, because mine just started doing it all on his very own at a very early age. very early.

Don't ask me how to get a baby comfortable sleeping in his crib after sleeping in a bassinet next to your bed for 6 months, because my little guy made that transition without a hiccup.

Don't ask me how to teach a baby to put himself to sleep, because after much trial and error I cannot tell you what finally worked. In fact, I think he just decided to put himself to sleep in his crib when he was ready and that was a random day after trial and error #12,548,227.

Don't ask me how to transition a baby from breast to bottle or from breast milk to formula because he didn't seem to notice. Don't ask me how to get a baby to be content in his stroller, on long car rides, in a high chair at a restaurant... because these are all things that Sawyer just did.

Don't ask me how to teach a baby to roll over, crawl, cruise, or walk... Sawyer did all of these on his own when he felt like it and not a moment before.

Don't even ask me how to teach a baby to wave, bop to music, or mimic sounds... this guy has recently amazed me by just suddenly doing each of these things with little guidance or urging.

I do not know how we got here to this moment in time where my little baby is an entire year old.  All I know is that we are here, we have arrived seemingly unscathed, and I am in awe of the wonder of life that is my little boy.

(and this post is almost a week late as Sawyer's 1st birthday was on December 6. I think he will understand, though, as he is no stranger to being late.)

Flying the Friendly Skies

Sawyer and I ended up going to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving alone, afterall. After all of my planning, and fretting, and then assurances that Michael would have the time off... in the end, he did not. So we went alone. I was pretty nervous about this. It was mostly the logisitcs of it all that had me lying eyes wide open all night, the night before the flight.

Thankfully, I had flown two other times with Sawyer (with someone else to help me, mind you), so I was able to mentally prepare myself for every aspect of maneuvering through the airport and airplane with a baby and anticipate any hurdles I might come across. I must pat myself on the back because thanks to my magnificent planning, getting through the airport, security, and on and off planes was no sweat at all.

My only real setback was finding an available handicapped stall that would fit both me and my baby-in-a-stroller.  It seems, I have found out, that people who are going to spend a lot of time in a public restroom stall (*ahem. I think you know what I'm saying) tend to choose the handicapped stall in which to do so.  In my efforts to be timely, I found myself walking into and out of several different mostly empty bathrooms before finding one with a stall that was availalbe for us to fit in. In the past, I always avoided the handicap stall out of courtesy, and now I am proud of myself for having done so. If you are a handicap stall avoider like me, I thank you. It really is important to the person who can only use that specific stall that it not be needlessly occupied.

These days it has become increasingly apparent to me that I have the best baby in the world. His easy going personality and good humor made my life a million times easier while navigating the joys of public transportation alone with him.  I was sweating buckets and feeling quite overwhelmed as it was. I can only imagine how I would have felt had I been traveling with a fussy baby. I think I would have had to chug a bottle of wine after landing had that been the case.

On the plane trip going north, I don't think I had a single person offer to lend me a hand. On the plane trip going south I had someone offering his aid at every turn: going through security, gate checking my stroller, I even had a man sitting next to me on the plane who offered to hold Sawyer several times throughout the flight just to give me a break (since I took him as a "lap infant" this time, and even though he was a perfect angel, he was a squirmy perfect angel and it was a challenge wrangling him at times). The flight attendant even stopped by and gave Sawyer a book.  When we landed, as we were heading to baggage claim, an airport worker stopped me and asked if I needed help getting my bags. It was quite awesome. Now, let's pause a moment and I would like you to take note that I said "I had someone offering his help at every turn." Yes. Every single offer of help came from a man. What a shock that was to me as I sat contemplating my trip. Go figure!

All in all, I am proud of myself for braving the friendly skies alone with my baby boy. Despite the fact that he is the best little baby ever born, it was still quite a daunting challenge for me, and I am proud to say I lived to tell the tale.

The other night Sawyer woke up crying after only sleeping for approximately 30 minutes. I went in and picked him up. He looked at me and started babbling. He talked for the next 30 minutes. We sat in the chair in his room and he told me whatever it was that was on his mind. After he got it all out, he began to relax and rest comfortably, so I placed him back in his crib, and he went peacefully back to sleep.

I love that little boy so much. While I'm in no hurry for him to grow up too fast, I do look forward to the days when I will have the opportunity to have conversations with him. He has much to say already, and I just can't wait to understand every word.

JT Goes to the Ball

A few months ago, a young female marine put out a youtube video asking Justin Timberlake to the Marine Corps Ball. He, being the incredibly awesome person that he is, accepted.  Oh how I wish he had gone to the same ball I did, but alas, he did not. In any case, he did write a little something on his website about his experience at the ball, so I thought I would share the link on my blog.

http://www.justintimberlake.com/news/my_night_at_the_marine_corps_ball

If you're interested in viewing the video that he references, you can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I79UW6-NAAU

Every year the Commandant of the Marine Corps puts out video that we watch at the ball. It generally provokes tears and is always greeted with absolute silence and reverence. As Justin notes, it is incredible.

I love that he was so in awe of the ceremony, just as I am every single year. I love that he has so much respect for his military community. I love love love him.

I do, however, need to clear up a few mistakes he made in his writing. First of all, he continually refers to the marines at the ball as soldiers. Marines are not soldiers. Marines are marines. Men and women serving in the army are soldiers. Also, while we're on the topic (though JT did not make this particular mistake) the generic term for everyone in the armed forces is MILITARY not ARMY. So many people I encounter refer to my husband as being in the army when they mean military. Believe me, The Army and the Marine Corps are very different.

Also, marines say, "Ooh Rah" with great stress on the second syllable. The army says "Hooah" or however it is spelled. JT makes reference to marines calling out Hooah at the ball when in fact I am absolutely certain they were saying Ooh Rah. It's their raucous form of agreement. Also heard coming from my husband's mouth when speaking with fellow marines is "YUT" - apparently another common form of marine agreement.

Someday I will write a post called Military Speak Translated. However, this concludes our lesson for today.

Despite the fact that he made a few key vocabulary mistakes, I respect Justin Timberlake very much for taking the time to learn about the very honorable Marine Corps Community.
:)

Saying Goodbye to My 20's

In a few hours, I will officially say goodbye to my 20's.

I don't feel like I'm 30. I don't feel like I look like I'm 30 (I choose not to acknowledge that I get carded less and less these days when purchasing alcohol...). I am, however, going to be 30 in almost exactly 2.5 hours.

Today even though it's a national holiday and all, I checked our mailbox and whatdoyouknow it was full of mail for me. I guess that's what happens when you don't check your mail every day. Then this evening as we were watching Sawyer toddle around our living room in his adorable new pj's that say, "I've been good all year. Just ask mom." We got a knock on the door. It was UPS delivering a present from my good friend in San Diego -- a package with two bottles of my favorite red wine from a Temecula winery, luscious lips.

We cracked open one of the bottles immediately, and I remembered how much I love it and immediately got a craving for thai food and suddenly the decision on what restaurant we will go to for my birthday dinner was decidedly made - the only Thai restaurant in our small South Carolina town. (San Diego was overflowing with excellent Thai food, and it was our go-to cuisine while we were there.)

Then I started thinking about all that has occurred in my life just this last year -- and then all that has happened in the last 10 years. Adventurous life-lesson-packed college years that landed me a fiance. A beautiful wedding. A marriage that took me to Texas, Florida, North Carolina, California, and now South Carolina. 4 years of teaching the most incredible students at the most disfunctional school. 3 long and arduous deployments followed by 3 joyous reunions. A baby boy who makes my heart explode with love every time I lay eyes on him. I couldn't ask for a better 10 years.

Here's to 10 more years of adventures and surprises.
Happy 30th birthday to me.
:)

I Got This

Lately, I've been feeling kind of like "I got this" when it comes to being a mom. As a reader of this blog, I'm sure you realize, I have not always felt this way.

After failure to thrive, Sawyer's hospital stay, the trip x-country from hell, FLEAS, I was feeling exactly the opposite of "I got this". I was feeling like I didn't get/have anything. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.

Soon after we arrived here in SC things seemed to get extra hard. Sawyer was eating but every meal was an experiment in how creative I could be to get him to open his mouth for bite after bite. Every diaper change was a wrestling match. Every bed time was a screaming affair. I did not handle it well.

Mike would come home during meal time, and I would say, "YOU TRY. HE WON'T EAT." and angrily stomp away from the table. I would get ANGRY with Sawyer when he wanted to do anything but sit still during a diaper change thus getting poop all over himself and me and the entire process taking 10 minutes instead of 30 seconds. I would feel like my head was going to explode when no matter what I did I just couldn't get Sawyer to go to sleep at night without an hour of screaming! (him, not me, I can understand how you could make the mistake).

I had a serious case of the why me's.

One day Mike and I had an argument. He was frustrated with my attitude. This is what you want, he reminded me. You want to be home with Sawyer. You could work. There's always daycare, but this is your choice.

But it's so hard. I whined  explained.

I know it's hard. He said. But I bet your mom never acted like you are acting when she was raising you.

hmm.

I am not sure why  he chose to throw my mom in there, and it wasn't necesserily the addition of her to the conversation, but rather the introduction of the idea that others have gone before me that got me. Many others. Many with much harder challenges to deal with. Many who did not approach their day with the terrible attitude I had begun to turn to more and more often.

hmm.

These days, diaper changes are still a wrestlig match. Mealtimes continue to be a true test of my patience and creativity. Nothing has changed. Except me. I'm blessed to be able to have my choice and stay home with my little love of my life. I know that. I don't get angry. My head doesn't feel like it's going to explode. I practice deep breaths. Smiles. Firm expressions of disapproval when Sawyer does something he shouldn't. And somewhere along the line bedtime became peaceful put little baby in crib and he will play for 10 minutes until he passes out time.

I got this.

.....
So confident have I been feeling lately, that when motherhood threw a wrench in its plans, I broke. Sawyer got sick last week. For real sick. Fever, lots of crying, lots of sleeping, no eating, lying around quite pathetically all day. My heart broke for the little guy. The only problem was, he would not take his tylenol. He fought the tylenol. He is strong and persistent and good. In the middle of the night one night he awoke crying and a quick check of his temperature told me it had spiked way up again. Tylenol. During the day I had Mike's help. At night, in the dark house, with a screaming baby, I just wanted to get that tylenol in as fast as possible. He fought with all his might. When I finally got that tube inside of his tightly clenched jaw, I accidently squeezed all of the medicine in much too quickly and he choked. and gagged. and screamed. and made noises that no baby should ever ever make. He cried and cried and cried and  coughed and hacked. Then he threw up a little phlegm. I held him in my arms apologizing over and over and over again, my heart beating as fast as its ever gone. My eyes brimming with tears. Finally, after several minutes where I thought I might have just killed my child he did one more hack and puked all over me.

Then he smiled and sat contentedly as if nothing had just happened as I shook and cried and told myself over and over that I am the worst mother ever created in the history of the world and apologized over and over to my now perfectly happy little man.

I woke Michael up and explained what happened. I was deathly afraid that the medicine had gone into Sawyer's lungs. Mike wasn't worried and went back to sleep. I was still worried, so I called my mom for extra assurance.

I felt terrible dialing that phone in the middle of the night, waking her up mid-peaceful-slumber, but I knew she wouldn't be mad. I just needed to feel completely confident that my son wasn't slowly drowning in tylenol and that I wasn't, in fact, the most incompetent parent ever. 

In the end, all was well. One thing I can guarantee you is that for the rest of my life I will probably be the slowest-tylenol-giver you have ever laid eyes on.

I had almost completely forgotten about that terrible incident until today when I was running around writing this blog post in my head about how I totally have my mommy groove on these days, when I was like,  oh yeah. That happened. Last week.

I guess it's all just one big learning experience. I suppose I can expect that won't be my first middle-of-the-night phone call to my mom. It probably won't be the last time I do something completely and utterly clumsy and stupid. There will probably be a few more nights when I will lie awake long after Sawyer is fast asleep hating myself for being such an idiot.

Most of the time, though, I expect days like today. Days when I forget those mess-ups and walk around with my head held high saying to myself, "I got this".

marriage

Unless you've been living under a rock the past couple of days, you have probably heard about the latest Hollywood scandal.  After only 72 days of marriage, Kim Kardashian is filing for divorce. Ugh.

I'm pretty much disgusted (along with everyone else), and I'm so perturbed by this that despite my love of reality tv I just might have to boycott anything Kardashian from here on out.

I think one of the hosts of The Chew made a really great point today that I hadn't even considered. There are people in this country fighting for the right to get married, and if nothing else, this is a slap in the face to them.

Honestly, though, it's a slap in the face to anyone who actually believes in the sanctity of marriage. It's a slap in the face to me.

I got married young... very young for today's standards... at only 22-years-old. Fresh out of college. Young, stupid, and in love. I imagine that there are many who didn't think our marriage would survive, but here we are. 7 years have gone by, and we're still kicking. It has not been easy. There have been struggles. Deployments. Misunderstandings. Disagreements. Communication problems. The list goes on. But we love each other, and we're married. When the going gets tough, we don't simply sigh with resignation and throw up our hands, oh well - we tried. No. We work on it. Fix it. Talk it out. Fight it out. Whatever we need to do. Most importantly, we stay married. Because we believe in marriage and in what we have together.

I have friends who quiz me on a regular basis about how I knew Mike was the right one - the one I wanted to marry. These same friends are afraid to get married because they don't want to get divorced. In some ways, I think that's so strange, but really, I get it. Everywhere you turn you see marriages that don't make it. The military has its own startling divorce statistics. Gosh. Mike just told me that something like 80% of the marines stationed here on Parris Island get divorced. I mean it's a tough duty station that requires a lot of time from its marines, but holy crap!

It's just all very upsetting.... that something so incredible can be treated with such irreverance. 72 days! And to think I actually cried when I watched that wedding special - a waste of my precious time and energy.

I do believe that the ability to cultivate a healthy marriage has everything to do with how marriage has been modeled to you. We both are very lucky to have parents who believe in marriage and who truly love each other through thick and thin. I pray that we can model the positive side of marriage for our kids so that they don't end up being another devastating statistic.

9/4/2004

Proof

Sawyer started walking this week. The cool thing for me was that it was completely his own decision. I remember my mom teaching my younger cousin to walk by leading him and then letting go of his hands, so I kind of thought that's how it usually went.

Not my boy, though. No, this guy is determined. He just decided one day to take a few steps. He left the safety of the couch he was clinging to and just went for it. He fell after only two steps and ever since then he has progressed very rapidly. The next day he was taking 5 steps before landing on his butt and the next he was taking 10. He falls, gets up, tries again. He is no quitter, my little guy.

In fact, today he decided that he also wants to master pulling himself into a standing position without holding onto anything. He hasn't figured that one out yet, but he keeps trying. That's a tough skill, you know.

I thought I would be sad to see these milestones come and go, and maybe one day I will look back on these days with tears. For now, though, I am brimming with joy. Maybe it has something to do with the worries that sometimes grip me in the heart and take my breath away - the ones that tell me he's still too skinny and he isn't eating enough - the ones that gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when babies 2 months younger than him started crawling before he did. Maybe it's so much relief and joy that LOOK!  HE'S FINE! HERE'S PROOF! Or, maybe the experience of watching the little love of my life growing, learning, thriving, and becoming his own incredible person would have caused my heart to expand to ten times its size even if he hadn't gone through the tough times. Whatever the reason, it is totally awesome, and I am loving every second.

LOOK! HE'S FINE AMAZING! HERE'S PROOF!

favorite?

Recently, there has been some buzz in the media about parents having favorite kids. Kelly Ripa and Mark Consuelos recently admitted that they have a favorite child. Jeffrey Kluger was featured on Anderson Cooper's new show last week discussing his article for Time Magazine called "Playing Favorites". He claims that not only do a huge majority of parents have a favorite child but they should talk openly about it.  On Anderson's show, a couple of moms actually got on the show and spoke about which child they favored and why.

I was appalled.

While I personally think that Kelly Ripa and hubby were likely joking, the parents on Anderson's show definitely were not.

I must say, this troubles me.

All along, Mike and I said that we wanted to have our kids close together for a few reasons. Mostly, we hope our kids will be close and we think the closer they are in age the more likely they will grow up friends. Also, my career is on hold for this baby rearing stuff so it really just makes sense to get it all "over with" in one fell swoop.

Now that the time for putting our money where are mouthes are is approaching, I find myself feeling a bit of trepdiation about it. I just love Sawyer soooooooo much and have truly cherished all of the time I have been able to spend with him. I spend a large majority of time in awe of this little guy. I worry about bringing another baby into the mix and in doing so losing some of that special time Sawyer and I have together and also not being able to spend as much time cherishing those special moments with a new little one.  I worry about my ability to juggle the demands of two very young kids at one time. It's scary.

And now the media is telling me I have to worry about loving one of my kids more than the other?

Great.

Honestly, though, I call bullshit.

I only have one kid, so I can't speak with 100% certainty, but I really just cannot imagine loving one of my precious, amazing, beautiful, flesh-and-blood children more than the other. In fact, it sickens me that some parents not only claim to have a favorite but are willing to go on national tv to announce which child that is. Hopefully these parents are getting a lot of money for these tv appearances, because I predict hefty therapy bills in their children's future.

The only true frame of reference I have is my dogs. Mike and I have actually had discussions about and tried to decide on a favorite before, and we can never do it. The conversation goes something like this:

Copper pros: he will comfort you when you are sad and spend endless amounts of time cuddling, he is so be-au-ti-ful, and is a great traveler in the car, he likes Sawyer

Copper cons: he sheds like crazy and it is terrible! he is afraid of his own shadow so cannot be taken too many places, he pulls and bucks the whole time on a walk making it very unpleasant

Ramsey pros: he is very obedient and greatly dislikes displeasing anyone, he is super friendly and wants to make best friends with everyone over the age of 7, he is good on a leash

Ramsey cons: he is incredibly neurotic and will not leave you alone if there is a ball in his presence, he barks at anyone who walks past him when he is in the yard, he is terrible in the car, he's afraid of Sawyer.

Their pros together would make the perfect dog. Their cons together would make the world's worst dog. Individually they are both awesome and terrible in their own ways. We cannot decide on a favorite.

I can only imagine that when we have more than one child, a conversation about who is the favorite would go similiarly. (though as Sawyer has a list of mostly pros and very few cons, I imagine our future/fictional child will be the same).

I am still anxious about juggling the demands of two little ones at once, though, but since I'm not pregnant yet (my sister actually thought my last blog post was a pregnancy announcement. Ha!) I guess I don't have to worry about that too much just yet.

sage advice from the future

If I could sit down and have a talk with myself from approximately this time last year, there are a few key points I would be sure to cover. They would go something like this: (in no particular order)

In about a year, you're going to need to figure out how to put a diaper on a baby who is standing up (and moving around quite a bit). It's not easy, so you might want to start practicing now.

Best mothering advice ever: This too shall pass. That goes for both the good and the bad habits of your baby. When your baby is going through a really rough stage, know that it will not be that way forever. Find comfort in that knowledge. When your baby is going through a truly amazing stage, beware... it will not last forever. Cherish it.

Do NOT freak out about making sure your baby knows how to put himself to sleep in his own crib at the measly age of 3 months. Even if he learns this trait at that time refer to my previous piece of advice and realize that it's completely worthless to waste a single moment of worry over this. Give it a few months and then we'll talk.

Feed your baby from bottles. Regularly. Do not be afraid of formula. Do not form any negative opinions about pumping. Your breastfeeding only mantra is going to come back and bite you in the butt BIG TIME. Heed my warnings.

When you get back to San Diego, don't give all of your pre-pregnancy clothes to Good Will. It might seem unlikely, but you're going to lose all that pregnancy weight and more... and if you give those clothes away you're going to be stuck wearing the same 3 shirts all summer long because you just don't have the time or the desire for a major shopping trip.

Some doctors are going to scare the living shit out of you... again and again and again. Your baby is fine. will be fine. See below.

Keep your sense of humor. You are in for the challenge of your life, and it's going to go much more smoothly if you take things in stride and figure out how to keep a smile on your face.

When Mike gets to South Carolina to pick up the keys to your house -- don't take the first one they give you. For serious, my friend. Know much about fleas? No? And you don't want to either.

I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this since all of those time traveling movies seem to stress the importance of not changing the past and all that jazz, but since I've already done some damage, I might as well tell you... you are going to have the most gorgeous little boy on the face of the planet. He's going to be so well-behaved and sweet natured that he is sure to spoil you for any future babies. You will lose hours upon hours of your life just staring in awe at this amazing little guy. You are one lucky lady. Enjoy.

Oh. and P.S. - You're going to be in labor forEVER so put your feet up and try to get as comfortable as you can because you are in it for the long haul, girl.

this time last year...

cyber dress shopping fun

Soon after I hit publish on that last post, and after I received input from my sister and hubby, I stumbled upon this dress.

and fell head over heels in love.

Sadly, this dress was not available in my size. :( So I ordered it in a size smaller and to be safe ordered this one in my size.

I don't like the shoulder decoration on this one as much, and it seems to be a different fit than the other one (though that could just have to do with who's wearing it).

I am super excited for these dresses to arrive in the mail tomorrow.

But while looking for pictures for this blog post, I came upon my favorite dress in a just released color:

and my heart dropped to my feet because OMG I LOVE THIS ONE EVEN MORE! That color is just to die for. *sigh. I suppose I could return both of the other dresses and get this one if I want to. There is still time. We shall see.

Oh. dress shopping online is so much more fun than it is in the store (which is generally very depressing and flourescent light-ish). Hopefully the fun will continue when the dresses arrive on my doorstep tomorrow. I will be anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Also, I just adore the Suzi Chin for Maggy Boutique dresses from Nordstrom. Check her out! http://shop.nordstrom.com/c/suzi-chin-for-maggy-boutique?origin=brandindex

Decisions Decisions

This year's Marine Corps Birthday Ball is right around the corner, and I am very excited. We don't get to go every year because of deployments, but it is always a super fun occassion. I mean, who doesn't love to get really dressed up, eat good food, drink it up, and enjoy some lovely company?

My birthday is only 2 days after the Marine Corps' birthday, so we're generally celebrating both events in the same week. This year, with Sawyer, we are going to celebrate my 30th birthday together the same night as the ball. I really don't think I could manage two nights away from my precious baby -- just the one night might do me in as it is. This year's ball is at a resort in Hilton Head, SC, and I have spent countless hours on the web searching for that perfect dress.

Yes. I have two dresses in my closet from previous balls already. BUT, since it IS my 30th birthday and all, I really want a new dress to make me feel young and beautiful.  I'm having trouble, though.




DRESS 1: right now, this dress is my front runner. This is the only color it comes in, though, and I'm not sold on it.



DRESS 2: I spent a good while considering this dress, but in the end decided that the material doesn't seem very forgiving.

DRESS 3: I've also flirted with the idea of going shorter (there have always been a few girls at the recent usmc balls with a shorter style dress.)

DRESS 4: I think I love this dress (probably in a navy blue, though) but then when I look more closely I am not sure about all of the fringes on the top of the dress. It looks kind of messy, no?

DRESS 5: loved this dress at first, but going back and forth about whether this neckline would flatter me.

DRESS 6: a knee length, silver version of this dress was my front runner for quite some time. I love the longer sleeves and the shiny dress - but if I'm going to go shorter, this version is definitely TOO short, and the other one isn't on the website anymore, so I am SAD. :(
(all of these dresses are nabbed from nordstrom.com am I going to get into some sort of copyright trouble for pasting them here? hope not.)

It's pretty clear that I'm going to have to do some serious time trying on dresses in the store, but in the meantime, opinions are welcome. Which style was your favorite? Also, I am seriously considering the idea of a navy dress. What color shoes does one wear with a navy dress, anyway?

Thanks for your help!

Reality Junky

I have a confession. I am a reality nut.

I am pretty sure I can trace it back to Reality Bites - my absolute favorite movie in junior high. This movie also gets credit for the video camera I purchased in 7th grade (with the money my aunt very generously left me in her will) and the subsequent dozens of videos chronicling my teenage years with my besties.  (I really need to put those videos on dvd... stat... lest they be lost forever).

I was completely obsessed with The Real World for years and years. Back when it wasn't quite so.... trashy and was really an experiment in sociology. In fact, it was my life's goal for quite some time to actually be on The Real World.

I am also completely enthralled with the "reality" genre of books. My absolute favorite books of all time are true stories... I think that's why I like them so much. They're real. I am amazed by the things that people have encountered, survived. The Glass Castle = the greatest book of all time. My jaw was on the floor through 98% of that book, and it's one of the few I've read over and over and over again only to be continually shocked and amazed.

...which brings me to my latest obsession. Sister Wives. Have you watched this show? I am totally captivated by it. Last year when I was pregnant, I spent an entire weekend watching every episode of the first season on TLC on demand. I couldn't look away. The new season recently started, and apparently it's so much on my mind that I had a dream that I was one of the wives in a polygamist family, and I was trying to get my husband's attention the entire dream. It was terrible! I definitely think the idea behind polygamy is completely bogus, and I can't say that I think these people are doing their kids any favors by bringing them up in this lifestyle.... but... there's something so innocent and sincere about these people and their kids. It's intriguing.

My other TLC reality fave is The Little Couple. LOVE THEM.

I admit I also have been known to frequent such classless shows as The Real Housewives of (fill in blank because I watch them all), Keeping up with the Kardashians (everything that happens in that show is so obviously staged, but it still sucks me in), Teen Mom (which is completely depressing, but it's one of those car accident kind of things where I just can't look away), and the absolute worst of the worst..... nevermind. I just can't admit to watching that, but you can probably guess...

I am a snoop by nature. I love to know about people's lives. Yes. That's right. I'm a reality junky and not afraid to admit it.

Blessed

A month ago at Sawyer's 9 month check up with his new pediatrician here in South Carolina, the doctor plugged Sawyer's stats into his computer as though Sawyer was a 15-month-old.
Before this mistake was discovered, we all had quite a panic when we found that not only were Sawyer's weight and height still hanging out below the 5th percentile on the chart, his head circumference, which had been holding steady at the 25th percentile from birth, had dropped to zero percentile.

This particular pediatrician was not prepared for us to walk into his office that day. He was not prepared for the failure to thrive diagnosis, the in-patient stay in the hospital, or Sawyer's supposed stats.

He needed some time to discuss what was going on with his colleagues.  He sent us out to lunch for an hour.

During this hour I believed that there was something seriously wrong with my baby. At that point, I knew for sure that he was eating and eating well. I believed that his hospital stay was all for naught - the reflux diagnosis a sham, and I saw before me what was certain to be a long, difficult road.

I was scared, but ready.

The sobs of anguish I let out on my way home from the doctor in Poway after Sawyer had his attempt at a blood-draw. The utter terror I felt making the decision to take him in-patient and walking him into the pediatrics ward in San Diego. These feelings were gone. In their place was strength. calm. fear, yes. sadness, yes.

But I was ready to take on whatever that day held. Sawyer is a brave little soldier, this I knew for certain. Together we had been through much, and it was terrible and not as bad as I thought it would be both at the same time.

And just as I set my shoulders firmly in the direction of strength and survival, Mike plugged Sawyer's numbers into a website on his iphone and found some very different percentiles than what the doctor had told us only 40 minutes before.

When we got back, Mike and the doctor looked at the doctor's chart together, and Mike noticed that it was a chart for a 15-month-old.

I almost collapsed with joy.

My uncle later commented that he was shocked that this particular doctor didn't get a solid punch to the face for his mistake. Instead, we were both just filled to the brim with relief and happiness. For a solid hour we truly believed that what Sawyer had was one of those really bad things the doctors had ruled out at the hospital. Thankfully that wasn't the case. We were ready to face it if it was, but it wasn't. Thank God.

The Military Makes Planning Impossible

I just wasted quite a bit of my life trying to decide on a new template for my blog via blogger. I'm not happy with it, but I can't waste another second of this day doing this so I'm just going to move on...

*ahem. shall I start again?
What I meant to say was...

There are many not-so-easy things about being married to the marine corps, but the one that gives me the most trouble is not being able to plan ahead.

Example: Mike was told before we moved here that he should take all of his leave before he arrived because the new guys get the worst schedules and there wouldn't be any time for vacation.  For this reason, I told my parents that they were going to be visiting us this Thanksgiving holiday. If Mike did get Thursday off, he certainly wouldn't get much more than that, I reasoned.

When he started shadowing and learning his job, his buddy told him that they are getting off from the day before Thanksgiving until the day after New Years. Wow! My mind started reeling instantly. So many plans to make, so little time.

The day that I finally wrote emails to my family announcing that we would be going north for Thanksgiving this year, Mike came home and told me that only that particular company gets vacation from Thanksgiving until New Years and there's no guarantee that he will stay in that particular company...

...

How many times have I made plans only to have to change them later? How many times has my family hung in limbo waiting for my GO AHEAD to buy plane tickets or plan an event? How many times have I simply said, "Don't plan around US. We have NO IDEA what will be going on in our lives then."

(thankfully, he did find out only a week later that he will, in fact, be staying in the company with the awesome holiday vacation schedule. I am excited, but I'm keeping my cool over this one. I don't want to be too shocked when the text comes in stating that he was misinformed...)

....

Also. I was super excited to go to our town's annual shrimp festival as a family this weekend. Mike is still shadowing, so his hours are pretty relaxed compared to what they're going to be. He gets home at a reasonable hour every day. He's even been able to sleep in once or twice. We both figured that since this festival is going on for 2 straight days, we wouldn't have a problem figuring out a time to check it out. Yesterday afternoon, though, I received a text.

He was assigned to do a command investigation that is due promptly Monday morning. He didn't get home until only an hour before Sawyer's bedtime last night (translation: no festival) and he hopes to be home today in time to be able to make it to the festival this evening.... but no promises.

Plans. Hopes. Expectations.
not for this military wife.

Words and Feelings

There are pictures of Sawyer that are difficult for me to look at now. He looks so skinny. So tiny. It hurts to see them. I think to myself, how did I not know? How did I miss this? How?

I remember the first time someone mentioned to me that he looked small. It was my dear 75-year-old friend from the school I taught at. She picked him up and said, "He's small for his age, isn't it?"

"No." I immediately responded. "He's long and lean according to his pediatrician."

But her words echoed inside my mind for days. weeks. She was, afterall, mother to 8 kids and grandmother to many more. Wouldn't she know? It struck a nerve. Maybe I did know there was something off with his growth then and I just wasn't ready to admit it. I don't know.

I do know that the words people have used to describe him since the hospital have often been stabs straight to the heart. "Oh. What a little PEANUT!" someone once said. 

"He looks just like Michael when he was a baby," explained Mike's sister to her husband. "Except Michael was much chubbier. Imagine a chubby Sawyer and that was Michael."

These comments struck me right to the core. They meant nothing by them. They couldn't possibly have known how sensitive I was and how carefully they needed to tread so as not to hurt my feelings.

So when we took Sawyer in for his endocrinology appointment and the doctor walked in and immeidately proclaimed him to look just fine AND the lab tech drawing his blood went on and on and ON about his chubby thighs, I sang on the inside.

When we introduced him to our new neighbor, she exclaimed, "What a big boy!"

Mike and I exchanged a look of stunned silence. "We don't hear that very often," Mike responded.

"Really?" she said. "My kids were all tiny, skinny little things. Look at those legs!"

I could have hugged her.

.......................................................
But it isn't over yet. Maybe this will be an ongoing, forever struggle with my little man. He doesn't eat enough formula. Often he makes up for that by eating a lot of "solids", but not always. I still panic and fret and mentally bang my head against a wall.

Sure he's doing fine now, but he could easily get back to that place. That unhealthy place of low percentiles and frightening statistics. He comes back anemic in every blood test he's ever had, and I know. I know it's because he doesn't eat enough of what he needs to eat and that's the nutrition-packed-formula. I feel helpless and afraid. I feel alone in this battle. No one can help. Of all the doctors we have seen, no one has been able to give me the magic answer. Sometimes Sawyer just refuses, and there's nothing anyone can do.

I always knew that motherhood would be heartbreaking and challenging, but I never fathomed the extent of it.

It's tough.
It's the love that makes it so difficult, though. It's because he is my world that I struggle so much with his eating and growing problems. I so desperately just want him to be healthy.

He is happy, though. Always has been. And for as often as I fret and want to bang my head up against a wall with frustration I laugh and smile 50 times more. It's an interesting business - this parenting stuff. Interesting indeed.

Looking Forward...

The time has come again for me to spend the Christmas holidays away from my family. It wasn't quite as difficult as I anticipated it would be the first time around, but this time I get the distinct feeling it will be a little bit harder since... well... SAWYER.

 

I am excited about this Christmas vacation for a very different reason, though. This year, we are spending Christmas at Mike's parents' house in Florida. An hour away from Orlando.

 

Are you with me, people?

Yeah. That's right. This Christmas holiday come hell or high water I am going to THE HARRY POTTER THEME PARK! Heck yeah!

 

I have been wanting to go to this theme park since it opened, and my silver lining in spending Sawyer's first conscious Christmas (sure he was around last year, but he slept through everything. He was only a few weeks old) away from mi familia is that I FINALLY GET TO GO. WAHOO.

 

My favorite Harry Potter movie will forever be the first one. Why? Because I clearly remember sitting in the theater in complete awe of the world I read about in the books coming to life before me. Now I get to actually walk around in that world? Too cool.

 

Not sure if I should admit this in writing either, but I will most likely leave the park with a class sweater (Gryffindor, of course) or my very own wand. Annnnd, don't be too surprised if Sawyer is all garbed up in some sort of Harry Potter gear soon thereafter. Just saying. It's a strong possibility.

 

It's always fun to have something exciting to look forward to, and Christmas will be here before we know it.

:)

 

Home?

Mike and Sawyer in front of our SC home

I definitely had a nervous breakdown when I first got here. The stress of the past month(s) with Sawyer's health issues had me on the edge and the fleas sent me flying right over it into oblivion.

Besides the fleas, I was disheartened to realize that my neighborhood did not, afterall, include the built in/immediate bestest friends I had been daydreaming about. And then I went to an officers' spouses' get-together for the base where Mike works, at which I quickly discovered that no one there lives in the same base housing community we live, and I was heartbroken to say the least.

I even considered moving. again. to a different house in a different neighborhood. which shows you how desperate I was because I cannot tell you how much I freaking hate unpacking. And the house was already 75% unpacked.

It was those darn expectations that got me again. Expectations are the very worst if you ask me, because they almost always set me up for major disappointment.

I think it was the day that Sawyer and I took a walk to the playground behind our house. It is right on the bay. To the left is a fishing pier. To the right is an adorable little picnic area and along the bay are porch style swings where you can sit and enjoy the view. Sawyer and I spent some time swinging and looking. It was peaceful and picturesque.

I decided then.
This neighborhood does have something to offer. I feel safe here. I will give this place a chance.

I'll let you know how it goes.
For now, this place feels more and more like home every day.

My MoM

I have a vivid memory from my childhood of my mom hanging me upside down by my feet in the ocean. I remember being afraid to let her do it and making her promise that she would lift me up before a wave came. In my memory she didn't, and I ended up with a face full of salt water.

She adamantly denies that this ever happened. In my old age, I am starting to believe that maybe it didn't. It's the hanging me upside down by my feet part of the memory that is a bit suspicious.  Probably I just got knocked over by a wave, blamed her, and my imagination ran away with itself inventing this much more interesting story.

It's a joke between us now.  If ever I make a stupid mothering mistake, my mom will quickly quip, "Well, at least you didn't hang him upside down in the ocean!" Indeed.

It was my mom's birthday on the 10th. Don't ask me how old she is because I stopped counting a long time ago. In my mind, she will always be 40.

This post was meant to be finished on her birthday... but it wasn't...

Like all things that are very close to my heart, it is hard for me write about her... because... it just is.

In my adult life she has become one of my most cherished confidants. I was thinking about this yesterday and realized that this all came about during one of the hardest times of both of our lives. Mike was deployed, my mom had breast cancer, I was living in San Diego and commuting 45 minutes each way to work. I began calling her every day on my drive home. I needed someone to talk to. Or, maybe being so far away from her during such an important and terrible time in her life made me need to talk to her.Who knows, maybe she needed to talk to me too. It became part of our lives. Funny that out of such a dark time, something so amazing blossomed.

Now when anything happens big or small, I get the itch to call my mom. When I was first here in South Carolina without phone or internet for a few days, my mom told me she was going into withdrawal. There was just something not right about not talking to each other for so long.

My mom is always busy - but never fails to make time for her kids.
She is mother to many more people than just the 3 of us. Many people look to her for guidance and support. As listeners go, she is the best. As nurturers go, she is supreme. When you are down and out and need someone to be there to take care of you in any kind of way she will be there... to fold your laundry and wash your dishes if you just need some organization in your life. To listen to your endless complaining if you simply need a sounding board. She is able to sift through what you say - keeping the important things and instantly forgetting those things that you said but didn't mean.. To hang a curtain that suddenly makes your house feel like home.. To tell you things that sometimes you don't want to hear but it's important that you do. To make you feel special and interesting and loved.

At least, these are the things she does for me. These and much much more.

Happy Birthday, Mom. Belated. Some day I will figure out how to properly thank you for all that you have done for me - especially lately. For now, this will have to do.

Love
Sarah

sigh. of. relief.

We traveled an hour and half to Charleston, SC to see a pediatric endocronologist this afternoon.  Our new pediatrician was not completely confident that Sawyer's problem was solved when we had his 9 month check-up last week. Even though his head circumference jumped to the 50th percentile and his weight percentile was also going up (slowly, but surely), his height percentile was continuing to drop.

Really, I think that this Nurse Practicioner did not want to be the one responsible for an ALL CLEAR diagnosis after Sawyer had been on such a long road.

So we went. Tired at this point of doctors who are unsure. Who want to run test after test after test. Drawing blood from our little man who barely makes a peep every time a needle is stuck into his tiny little arm.

Personally, I felt good about going to see a specialist. Finally, I thought, someone who will know exactly what the heck he is talking about and will give us answers with assurance on his side. I was right.

The lovely doctor we went to see today assured us that he is not at all concerned about Sawyer's weight at this point (according to their scales he had gained a pound since his appointment only last week! why can't there be a universal scale because darnit one pound makes a heck of a lot of difference!!). He is now almost in the 50th percentile for weight! My heart soared when he gave me those numbers.

As far as Sawyer's height, he's not too concerned about that either. He theorizes that either a) Sawyer's height is just lagging a bit behind his weight and head percentile now that he is starting to pack on the pounds - he said that just as it is the height that is the last to go when a baby is not thriving, it can also be the last to come back up when the baby begins to thrive again.  or b) Sawyer's height has simply been dropping to its normal resting place at approximately the 25th percentile.  He does believe that Sawyer is meant to be tall-ish, but said that he might not shoot up until puberty. Basically, what he gave us was something no one else has been able to yet: assurance. Our baby is OK.  (Also, this doctor walked in and immediately gave him the award for cutest patient of the day. We kind of liked him a lot after that).

He does want to follow-up in four months to make sure that Sawyer is continuing to grow at an acceptable rate and he did notice something from Sawyer's last blood tests that he wanted to re-test. He said it's possible it's not an accurate reading and that happens a lot, but if it was an accurate reading it would be something that he would want to look into.

Overall, though, he had us leaving feeling better than we've felt in a long time.

And the blood draw today? It took about 10 seconds. The lady was awesome, and I am sure Mike and I made her day as we praised her over and over and over for her amazing blood-drawing-skills.

I pray that we don't get a call from that doctor telling us that what he noticed in Sawyer's blood tests really is something.  Hopefully we can then begin to close this door for a little while and move on with the knowledge that we have a healthy and happy little man on our hands.

Also, just 5 minutes ago, Sawyer pulled himself up to a standing position for the very first time.  It was the one thing his primary care pediatrician kept asking about last week... and now he did it. 
He never ceases to amaze us.
He's just the very very best.

And Then...

Our time in Pennsylvania was... relaxing. too short. just right. all of the above.

It got a little bit exciting thanks to the earthquake during which I seriously considered the idea that the world just might be ending.... and got even more interesting when the hurricane that I was trying desperately to ignore had us rushing south a day earlier than planned to avoid bad weather and horrific traffic.

It's funny. I was incredibly nervous about the car ride and it was totally easy breezy and carefree. We made great time. Sawyer was his content little self the entire ride. He even ate. Awesome.

When we got to our house, though... we placed Sawyer on the floor of the room we deemed to be his and.... what's that black speck on his face? and that one? what's that you say? fleas? FLEAS! a;lsdkjfa;sldfjadlkjasdlfjasd;ljfkaljkdf!!!!!!!!!

I'm thinking about opening a pest control company because I'm basically an expert on the topic now.
I kid, but it was actually horrendous. We arrived at our house Friday evening and doncha know our moving company was scheduled to arrive with our furniture promptly on Monday morning and it was the weekend so how the heck were we supposed to get the housing people to take care of this problem before our furniture arrived and became flea infested too!

Also. At our house. We have no AT&T cell phone reception.
which pretty much meant no contact with the outside world since phone, internet, and cable weren't scheduled to be set up until Wednesday...

So I kind of had a nervous breakdown. And the fact that Mike and I got through that weekend and are still married and in fact speaking to each other is a testament to the fact that I'm feeling pretty confident that we can survive anything. for realz.

We sprayed the carpet of the main offending room. We did an all natural carpet powder in that same room. We still found a few fleas hopping around. We bug bombed the house... About which I had another nervous breakdown because I'm pretty sure Sawyer is going to get cancer or develop autism or something equally upsetting because of all the chemicals he has been exposed to (no he wasn't in the house when we did this; we stayed at a hotel. I just can't imagine, though, that those chemicals go disappearing into thin air in 24 hours). Then that morning before the movers got there a pest control guy came and sprayed the house. This was the housing company's weak contribution to the solution of this problem. The housing lady then came in and walked from room to room in her white socks and proclaimed the problem to be solved. We are flea free. Hallelujah. From what I read, though, (I am very well read on this topic, believe you me) it's not uncommon for you to think the fleas are gone and then have another outbreak of them in a few weeks. The reason for this is quite interesting if you're into that kind of thing, so I won't bore you with the details. The only way to really get rid of them is diligent cleaning and diligent dousing the heck out of them with chemicals. done and done.

*crossing my fingers and praying for the best.

*asd;flkajsd;flkajsdf;lkajdsf;lkjasf!!!!!

for realz.

Mike's mom tells a story about when they moved to 29 Palms, CA. If you've never been there, take it from me: it's a desert wasteland. She says she cried as they pulled in and she cried as they pulled out. The lesson being, it is what you make it. The fleas and the not having any contact with the outside world may have clouded my vision about this place a bit at first. The clouds have begun to part, though, and I'm starting to see that this could be a nice place to call home for a few years. I will keep you posted.

the tides are turning..

Sawyer continued a modified version of his hunger strike throughout our time in Utah and into our visit in Denver. He ate practically nothing on the flight to Pennsylvania.
...and then

that first night at my parents' house before he went to bed...
he suddenly started eating again.

Like a snap of the fingers suddenly all was right with the world. He cries hungrily for his bottles. He is eating over 700 calories every single day (his target caloric intake is between 600 and 800 calories a day).

I can breathe again. Deep sigh of relief.

Who knows what was wrong. Was he just really not feeling well since he was coming down with his first cold during the time that he was refusing to eat. Was it all of the traveling that got to him? Did it have something to do with the elevation? Is he simply more comfortable here in his hometown? (I mean, he was born here afterall).

I'm sure I will never get a good answer to why he stopped eating for So Many Days! I just pray it NEVER happens again.  To say I thought I was going to explode is quite the understatement. Thankfully it's over. Hopefully forever.

I don't know where he is with his growth now. I don't know how much his hunger strike set him back. I can't even think about it right now. I am just overjoyed that he is eating his target calories. That's all I can ask for right now.

In the meantime, some other updates:
*in the midst of the craziness of travel, Mike stepped on my breast pump and broke it.  My internal battle of whether I should continue pumping or just put Sawyer exclusively on formula was answered for me. It was really annoying that it happened, but it was kind of a blessing because I didn't have to have guilt over one more thing...

*our renters moved in. hallelujah!

*Mike is in South Carolina as we speak. He picks up our house keys tomorrow. He has already been by the house and scoped out the neighborhood and peeked inside the windows. He says everything seems great, and I'm pretty excited to see our place. *crossing my fingers and hoping for the best!

I'm starting to feel like a normal human being again, and I'm very happy to be here with my family.

ALSO, one of my best friends just got engaged! I'm very excited for her, and it's looking like the tides are starting to change all around.

Looking happily forward to all of the positive changes the next few weeks will bring.

A tough few weeks

I have composed this post in my head at least 357 times. The longer I go without actually putting my thoughts into words the more I need to add to it. Now that so much has happened I find myself at a loss. How do I begin to explain my last two weeks?

I suppose I should tell you right off the bat that Sawyer did spend more than 3 days in the hospital... which was both a blessing and the worst experience of my life at the same time.

Sawyer appears healthy is active and happy, on this all of the doctors agreed.

Sawyer needs to gain weight, on this all of the doctors also agreed.

The first two days were a nightmare. Not an hour went by day or night when Sawyer was not disturbed by a doctor or nurse who wanted to examine him, take his vital signs, run a test, take some blood. He did not sleep and this was extremely traumatic for me. In those first few days they ruled out all of the scary stuff and left me with a thousand more questions than I came in with.

They never came right out and said it, but there was a time when they seemed to think that I simply was not producing enough milk for Sawyer to thrive. This was beyond devastating to me.

The pediatric dietician was the first to mention reflux... And she was adamant. Though sawyer was not presenting with the obvious symptoms such as projectile vomiting and extreme discomfort while eating, he was presenting with a variety of other symptoms that had been brushed off as various other 'normal' baby stuff by both me and my pediatrician. A persistent dry cough. Frequent choking or 'gagging' o his 'saliva', complainig while eating ( he often ate before sleeping and I assumed he was fussing because he was tired), turning his head sharply to the right while eating (apparently this closes off the pipe and keeps the acid from coming up). Then of course, the most important symptom, limiting his intake. Instead of being a fussy little man, my guy figured out that if he simply ate less he wouldn't have to deal with the pain...

So they started him on reflux meds and his intake went way up and he started really impressing the doctors on the scales. He was proclaimed to be cured and discharged from the hospital. Meanwhile, I have a small panic attack every time he takes a bottle or sits in his high chair for a meal.. worrying about whether he will eat enough... He has good days and bad, and I monitor his calories like a crazy person.

... and I do my best just not to let my mind wander too much because it's really easy for me to get to that place of self-blame where I beat myself up for having missed something so enormous...

The irony of it all is that I, the mom who flipped out over a bug bite or a possible sunburn had to spend several nights in the hospital with my baby whose official diagnosis going in was 'failure to thrive' - just typing those words makes me want to curl up into a little ball in the corner of a dark room.

And my mom was there. And I would not have managed this without her. And I hate that I'm not strong enough to have done this without her, but I have no problem admitting it as a fact.

And then it was time to move. Oh LOrd have mercy what a time to have to move. We did find renters, though, praise the lord. Somehow we managed to get everything done and we got in the car, drove down the road, and left our home of 5 years without a backwards glance.

During our long drive to Utah to see mike's sister and her family Sawyer began to refuse all food. He arrived at his aunt and uncle's house with his first ever fever. He continued his hunger strike for 2 days and even though he is eating better today he is still not taking in the calories he was after he left the hospital. I am doing better today, but when he really wasn't eating... when he would turn away from, cry, wriggle, and decidedly refuse every bottle we attempted to give him I thought I was slowly dying on the inside.

I am a private person, so having to undergo so much parenting difficulty so publicly in the hospital first and now with mike's family around, I have wanted many times to just take my precious little baby and run.

I cannot wait to get to Pennsylvania with my parents where I can finally begin to feel some normalcy again, and I pray that our transition to our new home goes much more smoothly than these past weeks.

In the meantime and through it all Sawyer has remained his happy, calm, and charming little self. I love him so.

2 minutes later

Is it two minutes later?

Yep.

Well, then, you won't be surprised to know that I am now totally freaking out about Sawyer's weight situation.
Mike came home yesterday and told me his dad called him and said the head pediatrician at the naval hospital here is strongly recommending that Sawyer come in for 3 days for tests, monitoring, time with a dietician, etc.

At first, we both blew it off as being a ridiculous overreaction. Mike's dad was once the commanding officer at this naval hospital I speak of, so we figured when the former CO calls and says, "I'm concerned about my grandson", the doctors aren't very likely to say, "Oh. No Worries. Everything Is Fine."

At about 10:30 that night, I received an email from Mike's dad that went into detail about this specific pediatrician's concerns and why it is imperative that we take care of this right away.
I actually slept that night, and when I woke up it was one of those times where I was carefree for a moment and then I remembered and was like oh. right. that. :(

So I called my mom and discussed. More. As if I hadn't already talked to her about this specific subject for hours on end. I had decided as soon as I read that email from Mike's dad that it was time to put my big girl pants on and take my darn baby to the hospital to get him the care that he needs. Maybe it will be nothing. Maybe they will say, "Oh. False Alarm. Your Baby is Perfect. Just as you Thought." But I'm starting to get the feeling it's not really going to go like that.

I'd like to go on record saying that it really pays to know people in high places. I'm almost completely certain that never in the history of naval medicine has anything moved quite as swiftly as it did for me this morning. I spoke with Mike's dad for a minute. He gave me the cell phone number of the head pediatrician and told me to call him. I called him. He didn't answer. He called me back 10 minutes later apologizing for not answering my phone call. He's traveling. He spoke to me about the situation for a few minutes. While speaking to him the sick feeling in my stomach slowly started to disappear. A little bit of relief took its place. He told me I had to have my pediatrician refer Sawyer to their care. My pediatrician did. And, in less then two hours, I was speaking to the on-call pediatrician at the hospital and he was telling me they were ready for me when I got there

....

I told him this was all moving a bit fast for me. Could I bring Sawyer in tomorrow?

Sure thing, he said.

It's settled. Tomorrow we go to the hospital, and maybe it will be the worst couple of days of my entire life. Maybe it will be incredibly stressful and anxiety inducing and not really very convenient At. ALL. But at least I know. Know for sure that I am doing everything I can to make sure that my little baby is getting the best possible care he can get.

My mom is flying in tonight.

She told me on the phone... I'm coming.

I cried.

Did you know Mike's going through an intense training right now for the military? He's more than halfway finished, and if he were to take off even an hour he would have to drop out? I don't want him to drop out. So having my mom here for support will be priceless.

Please pray for my little baby. He is my world, and I just want him to be healthy.

healthy and happy.

my olympic gymnast

When I had my first real prenatal check-up, I was incredibly nervous. I was afraid that during that first ultrasound we would find that my baby was not thriving. Instead, we found an Olympic gymnast flipping around in there. That image fortified me beyond belief. During those early days when I was oh so very nervous that something would go wrong, all I had to do was think about that baby flipping around in there having the time of his or her life, and it would bring a smile to my face.

During the late days of pregnancy, I would sit in awe staring at my belly shift and contort in the most amazing ways as my very active little man would find some way to roll around despite his constantly shrinking living quarters.

He was 10 days late, so I had to go into the doctor a few times for those stress tests where they strap a monitor to your belly and observe the motion and heartbeat for an extended period of time. I was supposed to click a button every time my baby moved. The first time I went I clicked it every two seconds the entire time. Literally. He would not stop moving. Something about the monitor got him going.

These days, now that my little man has achieved the mobility he has so greatly yearned for over the past many months, I am seeing a bit of that olympic gymnast in real life.

We purchased one of those video camera monitors for Sawyer's room because every time I would go in to get him in the morning he would be in a different corner of his crib in a totally different position from how I left him. It totally freaked me out.

Now that we can watch him, though, it is quite a sight to see. All night long our precious little baby rolls, turns, flails, and basically covers every square inch of that crib.... all while he is sleeping.

He is a very active little boy, and that active little boy is my world.
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No. I'm not really worried about him. My father-in-law spoke with a pediatrician he knows and respects in Bethesda, MD. He was not alarmed or worried about the situation. When we are on the East Coast in only a few weeks we will see this doctor for his second opinion. In the meantime, he has requested that we keep a record of everything that Sawyer eats. For my part, I have been pumping a lot more and giving Sawyer bottles much more often, so that I can really be sure that my supply is up to par and that he really is taking in a decent amount of breastmilk. So far my experiment has proven that all is well in the breastmilk department, and he certainly has a healthy appetite.

My honest belief is that he is just fine. I think he started out in life bigger than he's really meant to be and his body is now adjusting. I know he's eating well. He's active. Happy. Content. Babbling. Sleeping well. His eyes shine with life and personality. He is everything you would expect a healthy baby to be. I just cannot believe that there is something wrong. That's how I feel.

At least... that's how I feel right now. Ask me in 2 minutes, and I might be panicking again.

attempting to put that which plagues me into words

I have this problem where I obsess over certain things that people say to me. Things that at the time I often shrug off or barely notice but that later come back to haunt me.

Like the lady who attempted to draw Sawyer's blood yesterday. Of that entire traumatic experience and the two actually very inappropriate things that she said, the one that keeps resounding in my head is, "Did he lose his shoes?"

After the blood draw wasn't successful, I was attempting to make a speedy exit fighting through my tears, and she was trying to help me leave. She handed my diaper bag to me. She opened the door, and then innocently inquired, "Did he lose his shoes?"

To me it insinuated that my 7 month old, non-walking baby who stayed in my arms the entire time he was at the doctor's office should have been wearing shoes in the dead heat of summer. To me it insinuated that I was somehow lesser of a mother because I brought my baby out of the house with nothing to cover his precious little toes.

Logically I know I'm overreacting. Logically I know that she was making no such insinuation, but rather, was trying to be helpful as I made my harried exit.

What I should be offended by, rather, was how she kept muttering under her breath, but oh so loud enough for me to hear: "Why does such a little baby need such a big blood draw??"

or, how after she was unsuccessful in drawing any blood and as my baby screamed bloody murder she grabbed the order for the blood draw and exclaimed, "What is wrong with him anyway?!?"

Those are the words that I should be simmering over as I lay awake in my bed at 3 am, but no. It's the shoes comment. I can't get over the comment about the shoes.

And though it's hard for me to put my feelings into words right now, the weight check didn't go well. He gained a little over half a pound but grew zero inches in 3 weeks. He's still in the low single digit percentile for weight and continues to drop in height. The doctor thinks he's not getting enough calories but wanted to run all these tests anyway. I didn't go through with the blood draw, though. I don't know if I will. I gave it a shot, and it was a disturbing experience to say the least. I can't sleep because I am tormented by the thought that I cannot/am not providing my baby with enough nutrition for him to gain and grow properly. My instincts tell me my baby is happy and glowing and beautiful and perfect, but what if my instincts are wrong? What if he is, in some way, starving.  Breast is best, but I have no way of knowing if he's getting enough to eat. Everything says if he's gaining well he's getting enough to eat, but my doctor says he's not gaining well. She wants me to load him up on the solids which I will attempt to do, but I still can't get the idea out of my head that somehow the milk that my body is producing is in some way not enough... that if it were he would not be in this situation.

My father-in-law is on the case... a retired medical officer in the Navy he has contacts near and far and is contacting every pediatrician he knows. Mike's grandfather was a renowned pediatrician, and Mike's dad lamented that he wishes he were around today to help us crack this case. That made me feel sad too. What I'm looking for right now is a second opinion from a doctor I feel that I can trust, because I haven't run into too many of them lately...

One thing I know for sure is that Sawyer is loved so deeply and by so many. If love alone could sustain him, he would be in the 100th percentile. That's for sure.

feelings about a move

A few people have inquired about how I feel about this upcoming move. The truth is, while there are tons of feelings floating around in my general area, I'm just moving too fast right now to stop and contemplate any of them for very long.

While I have a moment of peace, I think it's about time I elaborate on these feelings.

The first feeling that comes to mind when I think of this move is excited. I'm ready for a new beginning. San Diego has been lovely, but I'm ready for a change of scenery. I'm ready to be closer to family. I'm ready to live in a small military town again. I eagerly anticipate a larger home and new friends. I'm happy that this move ensures 2 years when Michael will not deploy. There's much to look forward to.

The second feeling that comes to mind is anxious. Renting our house is quite scary. Will we have good renters? Will we even have renters? Will money be an issue? There are many question marks involved in this new venture.

Another feeling that comes to mind quite prevalently is stressed. Even though the military comes in, packs up all of our belongings, and carts them across the country for us, moving is still stressful - especially now that we have a baby. In the back of my head I have been running a regular commentary on what we need to take with us. Just getting all of that in order will be a bit overwhelming. Then there's the actual traveling across country. As I mentioned before, I am very happy that we will be visiting with so much family on our trip, but just going to the grocery store is imminently more stressful with a baby than it is without, so I'm counting on a stress level that will most likely skyrocket during our journeys.

sad. Yes. I am a little bit sad. Did you know that one of my childhood best friends lives here in San Diego? Though I have not made the life-long friends I once hoped to make here in California, I have had one of my very best friends here with me.... and it has been amazing. I will miss her presence in my life very much, and I fear that being so far apart will inevitably put some emotional distance between us...

Last... I feel hopeful. This latest move marks a new beginning for us. Sawyer will spend the next few years of his life there. He will make friends. Hit milestones. Amaze us. We hope to expand our family while in South Carolina. I hope to make wonderful memories there. I have hope that South Carolina will be an incredible place for us to enjoy this next chapter in our lives.

Bringing You Up-to-Date

We had a great visit with my parents. It was super duper fun watching Sawyer interact with his "Grammy" and "Grampy" (my parents' given names by their firstborn grandson - we'll see if it sticks with Sawyer or not).

These next two months are sure to be some of the craziest of our lives. Beginning this coming Monday, Mike will be traveling 50 miles every day for 3 weeks to undergo intensive training to be a Marine Corps Martial Arts Instructor. Sawyer and I only expect to see him on the weekends. I would actually prefer that he spend the night there when he can because that long of a drive when he is sure to be fatigued sounds like a worry wart's nightmare. We shall see.

In the meantime, we're showing our house.... like pretty much all the time. Which is hugely stressful, and though it's only been just over 2 weeks I'm feeling pretty discouraged and tired of the process already. The incessant cleaning and rearranging of our lives around these showings is incredibly difficult when you have 2 dogs and a baby to work around. We do have a lot of interest in the house, but no takers so far. Well, I take that back. We have had 2 applications. One the rental company didn't recommend that we accept after their credit check and the other they took back after they found something they liked better. *sigh. Time will tell. Our ace in the hole is that our community boasts the best school district in San Diego County and we accept pets which according to our rental company most people in our community do not. Thankfully, we will still be getting our San Diego basic allowance for housing (which is much more than what they give you in South Carolina since it's all based on the cost of living in an area) until the end of August. If we haven't found renters by then, then you will find me curled up in the fetal position in a corner somewhere.... but we won't worry about that until we have to, ok?

We finally scheduled our movers and are heading out of here the first week of August. We will stop to see Mike's sisters and their families and then stop to see my family before arriving in our new home. The entire process will take a couple of weeks and while I am absolutely DYING for everyone to see Sawyer, I imagine all that time of being transients is going to take quite a toll on Sawyer and us. As my mom said to Sawyer, he will have traveled across the country twice by the time he is 8 months old. Such is the life of a military brat, eh?

We put in our application for base housing which I am over-the-top-thrilled about because the lady Mike has been in communication with seems to think we shouldn't have a problem getting a house. After living in San Diego for 5 years where our military community is spread out over a stretch of 50 miles or more, it will be SO GREAT to have built in friends living right next door. (That's my daydream anyway, so please don't shatter it).

Other than that, I am still having moment where I totally freak out and panic about this weight percentile thing. I have spent a lot of time scouring the internet for some assurance, but everything seems to say that it's ok if they're in a low percentile as long as it's a consistently low percentile. It's not. OR. It's ok if the weight drops as this typically happens to exclusively breastfed babies... as long as the height isn't dropping, too. His height is dropping. So I panic sometimes. I don't know which would be more devastating: if there's somethign wrong with him that he is not gaining weight properly or if he is not getting as much food as he needs and so isn't gaining weight properly. Let's just say, this has taken a great toll on my confidence as a mommy. Now we're into the whole "solid" foods thing, and I am very confused about how all that is supposed to work. I would prefer to have been given exact written instructions on exactly when, what, and how much to feed your baby, but all of the information is VERY vague. When we both have time, I plan to have an in-depth conversation with my sister about this... (you hear that, Aim? Give me a call when you get a chance) ;)

Seriously. Seriously, though. Look at the picture up there at the top and tell me that there's something wrong with that kid's weight! *sigh.

Happy July 4th, by the way.
:)