Bootie-licious

Is anybody else so over January? I mean, I love the snow, but by now, the holidays are over, the snowmen have been built, the fudge has been eaten, and I just wanna freaking skip around in flowers and see some gosh dang sunlight. Is that too much to ask?

We have spent a lot of snuggly days at home..., because we don't get out... we are down to one car these days and since hitch-hiking in Utah County is a little creepy, Carter and I are stranded until the truck is fixed. Not too bad, considering how cute and happy this little chubbers is.

In this free time I have decided to do many free things. Number one, I am being shredded by Jillian Michaels. It has been such an accomplishment to step on the scale and see the very slowly falling numbers, but at least they're falling. At least I am fitting into my jeans... although it's frustrating when after I work out, dripping from sweat, the husband says, while eating his Oreos, 'Oh, I decided to cough and lost 86 pounds.'

On those days, I make cakes. Yeah, I have decided to one-up Betty Crocker. She wishes she were me. Check out this baby; I should go into friggin business!
Yeah, so I guess cakes, or Betty Crocker-ing is not my thing. I really am trying to learn to be domestic after so many years working out of the home.... but I guess I have to take my baby steps.

Speaking of baby steps... and babies... I know, I know, I am SUCH a mom with a mom haircut, but I can never get over how blessed I am to have baby awesome. Baby awesome is three months this week! He sure lives up to his name. Not only has he been sleeping through the night for several weeks, but it is usually 9-10 hours at a time. He is nothing but giggles and talking these days, and he even wakes up from his little naps just playing and talking to his crib. He has already rolled over and is such a little river-dancer.

I can't get over this little miracle and what an angel he is to us. What a mellow, happy, but freaking fat and adorable guy! I know for sure he will change his angel ways the minute he starts being mobile, so I better enjoy these snuggly days while they last. All the old people are right again, it really goes by too fast.

Oh yeah, and he is sporting a pretty wicked awesome mullet. Business in the front, par-tay in the back.
Also, he has back fat. But he's bringing sexy back.

Sike!!!

To say 2009 was a hard year would be a bit of an understatement. It was literally the best and worst year of our little family's life.

We've had a lot of the rough stuff try to re-surface lately, and yesterday I found myself all friggin out crazy again. Not my normal, lick people's faces crazy, but the kind of crazy where I cry when I saw how skinny people eating hamburgers are on TV (THAT IS NOT REALISTIC), and cry when I saw the pile of dishes, and cry when my new dryer sheets didn't smell spring fresh, and more like an old lady's perfume.

I found myself in the 'WHY ME??!!' mode and called most of my family to complain about how it sucks so much to be an adult.

But then it hit me. Thanks to a much wiser sister Becca.

I am seriously, like, so blessed. Seriously.

So we lost two jobs this year. We were able to get two more jobs.

We were told last December that we would never be able to conceive.... three months later, sha-pow!

We were told Carter would come two months early and face major problems. He came on time - perfect, healthy, and totally ninja awesome. He is the happiest little chubbers I have EVER seen.

So my body was taken over by something that looks weird and I had to gain weight - the bed rest worked and I am healthy (lost 36 pounds and counting, sha-zam yo!).

So we lost health insurance at 7 months prego. We got it back with 3 weeks to spare.

These small miracles are no small thing. I know we are being looked after from a power so much greater than our own, and I have NO room to complain. I remember 6 years ago when all I could do is pray to be out of the wheelchair and walk again. I promised myself then I wouldn't sweat the small things. I want to smack myself for thinking things are that tough now.

I guess I had to post this as a reminder to myself to remember to cherish the blessings and forget about the other crap daily life brings. Seriously. I know, it's deep.

I mean, look at my sweetheart's smile. Somehow... looking at this... I love my life!

Yeah, and the moving thing? Not going to happen anymore. I will be in Utah County. Please give me a HOLLA if you are around because I seriously am worried I might start wearing velour tracksuits before it's too late.

Poo. And Christmas.

Hey, did you know that Chuck Norris doesn't believe in Germany?

Anyways.... all I wanted for Christmas was a little miracle. This is what I got.

Yeah, pretty much the most kick-A awesome miracle ever. It makes me the happiest I have EVER, EVER been.

*As a side note, Carter decided to throw a curve ball at mom and started sleeping through the night last week. Still not every night, but SO much better. We now have a pretty good routine/schedule going which makes for much happier Heatons. Thank you all you mamas for your input. SO helpful.*

Christmas, again, was SUPER. I mean, really really SUPER, and even rad. But full of poo. Carter routinely poos all the way to his chin. And armpits. And sometimes ears. We go through about 7 outfit changes a day. I feel like poo is a constant on the brain. We went to Jake's work party, and as the other young couples sat around talking about their jobs and politics, I liked to routinely add in facts about bowel movements; their colors and frequencies. Yeah. Will Mom brain ever go away? I seriously put both my shoes on the wrong feet the other day and walked around for a half hour. Couldn't figure out why they were hurting my feet.

Christmas also brought about many new stressors and urps. (That's like vomit. Cuz life throws up on us too). Turns out there is an 87% we will be moving.... AGAIN. Utah County must be kicking us out because I say poo too much.

So... point of this post? Can't remember. And sounds like Carter just made a poo. Hee.

Aw, geez, mom.

I have 100% mom brain. Before I had Carter I told myself that although being a mother is the greatest thing to ever do, I did not want to lose my self in it. But I am one step away from mom jeans and sequin cat soccer sweaters. My only conversations consist of size and consistency of poop, boob juice, and naps. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

I truly now know the meaning of not having enough hours in the day. I am so lucky to be able to stay home, but I am in complete amazement of how others have more than one child. I am surrounded by mountains of laundry, dirty dishes, messy bedrooms... I consider it an accomplishment to get showered by 2 p.m. But my kid is thriving. Or at least pretending, because he is pretty much an undercover ninja. I try to look at his face, and look at the kid... he is chubbing up like no one has chubbed, and he is the most mellow, happy kid I have ever met. I mean, look at this face! So does this mean I am doing something right??

His favorite thing to do lately, along with smiling and even a few giggles, is to give me the look of "Aw geez, mom, you're an embarrassment to humanity." Tru dat, yo.

So I have some venting/questioning/ranting for all of you mothers out there. I really feel like a failure! I thought this would be easier. I have a degree in human development and thought that would give me an edge up. Ha. That is funny.

I am having the hardest time with continued sleep deprivation. Carter has made it to where he will sleep 3-4 hours a time at night, but that's it. Other friends have babies this age and have them sleeping way more. Many have them on schedules.

Should he be on a schedule at six weeks? Should I just roll with his punches? Every day he treats my boobs as a snack bar and won't eat for longer than 10 minutes. I feel guilty because I don't know how much I should be playing with him, how long I should let him cry.... why isn't there a better instruction book out there?

I feel like I am doing things wrong because all day he won't take longer than 20 minute naps and wants to eat every hour and a half or so. Yeah. My boobs hurt. Just so you know, because I knew you wondered.

And will I EVER get more than 2 hours sleep?? Yeah, help.

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.

Even Ninjas need to rest....

I can't believe it has been 19 days. 19 days since my life flip-turned-upside-down (said like the Fresh Prince, yo). Look at my little guy! He is so tough and ninja that as you can see above, he even knocks himself around to prove how manly he is!

We have good days and bad days, but the worst thing is still sleep deprivation. It does wonders for a person who is as naturally crazy as me. Add that to painkillers... it's a daily circus. I have daily, even hourly breakdowns.... being a mother IS the hardest thing in the world. I am neurotic and anxious and scared....this is really, really, really hard.

I just have to say that the difficult pregnancy and labor gave me the biggest blessing ever, and Carter is a wonderful, happy, and pretty much easy baby. He hardly ever cries. He just snorts when he is hungry (which is ALL THE STINKING TIME). He tends to get a little pissed off when he is naked, because that is so un-awesome, but other than that, he is just curious, precious, and a hungry little pig. And I love him. As soon as he fixes the whole day/night mix up (he gets up every stinking hour at night!), we'll be good...

He keeps giving Jake and I looks (see above) like "Who the heck are you? I thought I was in Brangelina's line in heaven....." He also tends to squeak like a high-pitched dolphin, which some people might not perceive as manly, but I think it is a ninja warning call.
Yes, Cap'n CARRRRRRRRRRTER is still Captain Awesome.

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. *