Pooping Sounds

Okay, you crazy three ladies that still read my blog...or just stare at it because you've lost your minds AND your pants.... we've been busy here at the Heatons.

We had an awesome Christmas with a sometimes-Satanic-little child. He went a little crazy.

Carter has gotten even more crazy with all his toddler shennanigans. When he isn't busy drinking toilet water (yep, still obsessed with that thing), throwing balls at our heads, unlocking the front door and running half naked outside (or is that Jake?), screaming 'HAYY DUDE!!!', he is pooping. He has started his own cult... of pooping sounds. Geez, people, what is wrong with boys and all this number two business? I swear the kid goes 18 times per day.

He has been eating us out of house and home and we go through several thousand diapers per week. Good thing Jake got a new job after his company closed in November. We can afford more diapers....and tranquilizer... I mean... vegetables.
Oh yeah. And before all that happened, Carter turned one. He even had an awesome Pirate Party that I never posted about. Must be all that tranquilizer.... I mean...vegetables.

Things are luckily looking a LOT better this rocking 2011. Jake starts an awesome new position tomorrow, I'm back in school with my Justin Bieber notebook, I love my job, I love my boys, I love my friends, I love deodorant...and I've got a poopy diaper to change.

Old ladies rule

This cutest face says it all. 'Some days everything tastes like a turd, but I'm so sexy!!'
I know I feel like I've been thrown into the blender of life, with a zucchini. Nasty zucchini. Blech. UNTIL it is made into bread. And then it's good. (See, that's a deep metaphor. Read it again and then hang it on your fridge).
We've had chaos surround us in the Heaton household as of late, although I'm sure it's muss less chaotic then the trials the rest of you deal with.
We've had a lousy, busy, insane week and this morning I just decided to call in sick.... because I AM sick. No, really. The chaos made me go all sicky. So as I'm laying here in my 'sick pants' (do the rest of you have those or is it another weird 'Ev' thing?) I am thinking I am not slowing down enough amidst the chaos to truly enjoy so many of the blessings of this life.
Especially the baby awesome. Old ladies are always so right, that he grows too fast to even know. He is 10 months...almost 11. He is freaking WALKING (well, like 5 steps and then freaks out and canon-ball dives). He's talking (he says 'yaaaay). And he's TEETHING. Which is the crap thing of it ALL. Perfect little sleeper? Not any more.
Earlier this day, while still in my sick pants, I was watching baby tv shows. Where is my BAAAA-BY? WAAHH!!!
So here's to trying to enjoy the little things, the teething sleepless nights, and to celebrating his growth. Soon, he might be old enough to be enlisted as my slave, so at least THAT is something that is good about growing up.

No really, today I'm overly grateful for this little miracle of mine. And for my life. I truly haven't felt this happy, albeit a little stressed, before. I love my boy, I love having my BFF sisters and nephew so close to torture every day, I love my little cheese of a husband, I love my job, I love my baby-sitter, and I love being able to see my toes again. So sick pants, or no pants, I'm having a good day.

Stop Growing Up I say!!!

Scream!!! I've come to many realizations during the past few weeks. Here are some of them.

1. I am clinically insane and should be caged. Wait... don't I mention this in every post? Part of the insanity (that and the drooling).

2. I really, really love my job as a mom..... although I think my son is re-thinking his choice to stand in my line in heaven... but I think I've posted that before too.

3. We spend our entire lives wanting to be older, until we're OLD, and then we wish everything would just SLOW DOWN!!!

My piddley little newborn baby boy is piddley no longer. He is CHUNKA. 'BUBBA THE CHUBBA.' Squishy everywhere. He went to the doctor this week and is already 16 pounds. I feed him nachos on the side, but don't tell.

The kid never ceases to amaze me. He is just so happy to be alive and explore the world around him. One thing is for sure and he is a friggin wiggler! He will NOT stay still. He likes to stand (with help of course), sit up, roll over, crabwalk.... you name it. He is just 3 months and he has learned to scoot. Not kidding. He pivots constantly on the ground and never stays in the same place that we put him down. I told you before... he really is a Ninja that WILL give Mr. Norris a run for his money. Prepare for Carter, Utah Ranger.

Realization 4: The Bumbo is my best friend. I never even heard of these things until my friend Di mentioned it. It sits him up so I don't have to. Now I have two hands free to... eat, pick my nose, and whatever I want!

Realization 5: He might be growing up fast... but it can only get better. We love him more every day and I always look forward to what he learns next!
Oh, and I realized I just ate an entire bag of Reeses. Oh, poop.

Happy One Month!

Happy One MONTH Birthday, Carter!!!

I guess I don't mean to brag, (OK, I really do), but my son is already a superhero by the age of 4 weeks. Here are some of the many, many reasons.

*His most amazing cuteness, handsomeness, and overall good-lookingness is enough to melt anybody in their tracks; especially grandmas.

*He sleeps with one eye half open. He knows when the enemy is coming.

*He speaks one billion languages, and especially those of zoo animals. When he falls asleep, he lets out little squeaks like a dolphin. In the middle of his sleep, he grunts and groans like a little goat. When he is ready to eat, he is an all out snorting pig. Very cute.

*He can lift his head and chest all the way up while on his tummy. Flying comes next.

*When he is awake, he just sits quietly and entertains himself for hours. He is secretly contemplating the plan on saving the world.

*He has the world's largest superhero tummy and could fit a station wagon inside. This kid packs it away like I've never seen. And he very politely burps when done. He even has Manners.

*He has killer gas. Whew.

*Even though he is so manly and tough, he loves nothing more than to curl into a little ball and snuggle on his mommy's chest. He's such a little cuddler. Of super proportions, of course.

*He has already giggled once. One might argue it was a sort of gas/hiccup/grunt, but it was an all out giggle, with dimples and everything. He has a very silly mommy, and he knows it.

*His mommy doesn't know what she's doing, but he continues to thrive and survive. If that's not a superhero, I don't know what is.

Carter, we love you more than we can ever say. Never has something brought us such joy and we thank God each day for the beautiful, perfect little miracle that you are. Happy One Month.

Lovin my Burrito Boy!!

My goodness gracious, Carter is already a week old. All those old people are right - it flies by way, way too fast.

So I thought I would share the story of his highness, the ultimate ninja, and his arrival.

Above is a picture of me from approximately 10 days ago. Yeah, I know. Illegally too large in 7 countries.

So a few days later I woke up not feeling the best. Monday night we had a friend over and we were watching Frankenstein. Well, I don't like monsters (they really smell). I guess Carter doesn't either because he chose in the middle of the movie to have my water break, out of the blue.

Jake didn't believe me and thought I'd peed my pants in scaredy-ness.

So a little over an hour later, at 8:30 p.m. we arrived at the hospital.

Wasn't dialating, at all, but almost fully effaced. They decided to start me on pitosin to speed up the contractions. Epidural? Heck, YES. Was great, for about 3 hours.

The contractions then started to cause Carter some distress. Never, ever have been so scared as when his heart rate dropped off the monitor and 5 nurses/doctors came running and kept mentioning a c-section. Got it figured out.

But then something bizarro-happened and the epidural wore completely off. I was not numb at all. The anesthesiologist said it was some kind of nerve blockage. (I think it was a conspiracy by a group of vampires but that's another story).

So I was dying in pain and kept yelling at everybody, calling them Satan. Finally at 5 a.m. I was ready to push.

Got to push for a freaking 3 hours because I had to rest in between contractions because of Carter's distress. I felt every bit of it. Let's just say that every woman that has given birth deserves a Purple Heart and one billion dollars, seriously.

When the doctor finally came in, I was ready. One horrible cut and three pushes later, he was out...8:30 a.m. I screamed like no one else has screamed, worse than a fat lady with her donuts forever taken away, but never have been so amazed at what I saw. Even being goopy, he was CUTE. I've had the fear all along that our poor baby would be a mixture of Chuck Norris' grandma and Donk, but he was beautiful.

He has been such a little miracle, angel of a baby. I know everybody says that, but I'd like to take a minute to join in the sappiness because it's totally true. I can't get over the miracle that he is, perfectly formed, down to his teeny little fingernails, here and healthy and beautiful.

He is all Jake. He has Jake's beautiful lips and little dimple in the chin, Jake's beautiful big blue eyes, Jake's huge noggin. He does have my fat cheeks and his mouth is so incredibly large it could almost fit a small puppy in there.

Recovery seems to be slow-going, and I am not one of those perfect women that is out running, wearing the skinny jeans, looking perfect, doing her own dishes.

But I am one of those women who is revelling in smelling her beautiful miracle boy, watching his funny facial expressions, listening to his squeak-squeakersons, and wrapping him up so he is my little burrito of a boy. Labor totally, totally sucks, and so does the aftermath (can I just say, POO?), but the end result already makes me forget it.

I am in love.

*Note* I have never fallen more in love with Jake than watching him be a daddy. He is INCREDIBLE. *

Sha-zam!!! He's HERE!

So in case you didn't hear my screaming across state lines, he's here!

Carter Oren Heaton was born on Tuesday, October 20 at 8:29 a.m.

7 lbs, 13 0unces and 20 inches full of awesome good-looking-ness.

He is perfect and doing wonderful.

His mommy is so tired she can't tell the difference between a boob and a spatula, so more to come later with all the beautiful details and pics.

Seriously, though, isn't he amazing??!!!!