Lets train

Sweet Porter-P is two months old today!!

I'm not going to do a real form-style post for these monthly updates with my third baby. In fact, dear Porter, I hope you appreciate the fact that I'm coherent enough to blog at all right now! Consider this my ultimate gift of love;) We've endured a bit of a rough patch with the heavy hitters of newborn life: eating and sleeping. We are doing much better now, but a few days ago we were S-T-R-U-G-G-L-I-N-G, my friends. Like, woah, mommy seriously lost her mind and we hit a few all-time lows in regards to handling life. Truman and I got sick, my baby wasn't sleeping or nursing and it just was just so ugly. Better now. Thank you, Lord.

 Nursing: remember how Cecelia refused all bottles and only wanted to nurse? Porter is proving to be her exact opposite as he seems to prefer his milk immediately and in large quantities (i.e. the flow of a bottle, not breast). I only know this because after a particularly grueling day when he was popping on and off the boob, grunting, squirming, and seeming generally irritated while nursing I tried a bottle. He gulped it down and I *knew* that we were playing with fire. If I oblige him and give a bottle, I am convinced that he will completely stop nursing because it's too much work. Originally I worried that my supply was low all of a sudden but I definitely have plenty of milk, it's just not shooting out constantly and mister impatient seems upset with mother nature's flow rate. Oh Porter, don't do this to me now! We've had to work extra hard at being patient (both of us, for sure), had to spend a significant amount of time in the dark/quiet nursery away from any distractions (ahem, loud siblings), and sometimes I had to trick mister P into nursing by quickly removing the pacifier and inserting my boob into his very sleepy mouth. Score one for mommy with that sneak attack method.

 After our wake up call with having to really WORK at nursing, I have the upmost respect for moms that have seriously struggled to breastfeed for whatever reason. I haven't taken Truman and Cecelia's nursing success stories for granted by any means, but it really did shake my confidence like none other as Porter seemed to fight the boob with every feeding. Those few days of uncertainty were enough to make me question whether my baby would wean himself entirely too early for my liking, and it was a huge hit to my breastfeeding confidence. Cue the hormonal panic attack because I am nowhere NEAR ready to stop nursing my last baby. We pulled through this time, but I do worry about starting back at work in three weeks because he'll get his beloved bottles and might make me pay for it when we are back together. Who knows. But much love to the mamas that have put in many days and weeks and months of DIFFICULT breastfeeding---such a scary, low time for me and I feel extra grateful to be going strong again after those rough days.

  Sleep: Sigh. Porter started waking up every 1-2 hours all night long, RIGHT around the same time he began hating the boob. This was also the same time I fell victim to a random fever/body aches and chills. We were a bundle full of laughs last weekend, aren't you disappointed you couldn't party with us? I think we are back on track with fairly typical newborn sleep, though. Porter goes into his swing in the nursery around 8pm. He usually wakes up to eat around 11-12, so a 3-4 hour stretch at first is all we can hope for, I'm afraid. (Waahhhhhh, he used to be SO much better in those early sleepy weeks when he first woke at 3am!). After a few feeble attempts at nursing him in the glider and replacing him in the swing in the nursery, I am now just bringing him into our bed after that first wake up. MUCH easier to embrace the 'whatever works' mentality and nurse often without watching the clock after that. We both feel a lot more rested in the mornings without the mental tally mark of wake ups, blissfully unaware of how 'good' or 'bad' the night was.

He won't cuddle, nurse, and co-sleep with me forever so might as well enjoy it now! No schedule for naps yet and P still loves to be worn or held, hates going into his crib or swing for naps. It's anyone's guess if he will sleep for 2 minutes or 2 hours but you can bank on the fact that his eyes will snap open within moments of contact with the crib. Daytime sleep routine does not yet exist for Portie. Someday it will happen and it will be glorious!

  Personality: He's amazing. I realize my perception is heavily skewed by the intense love I have for my boy, but Porter really is such a great baby. When he is awake he's smiling his face off at anything he sees fit. He'll chill on the play yard alone for awhile but really prefers to be surrounded by his interactive siblings and parents. He loves to stare out any windows and it's a big bonus if we walk him around outside so he can inspect every leaf on every tree. He likes to take a bath, enjoys a good diaper change, and rarely spits up because he values a solid outfit choice. I guess I'd label Porter as my 'Happy Cuddle Bug,' if you asked me about his personality. I really cannot wait to see who this child grows into with time, but right now he's pretty much the best. (Note that I can successfully block out the rough patch of eating and sleeping, still madly in love with this baby in general).

 

 He is rarely fussy but everyone is entitled to a few bad days, babies included. Most of the time swaddling, holding and walking him outside with the pacifier worlds wonders for his discontent. Otherwise his dark nursery with white noise and possibly nursing will do the trick. We've only had a few instances of true inconsolable crying and luckily they lasted less than 30 minutes each time. This is quite wonderful for me to report because I recall Cecelia having much more frequent Fah-REAK outs in life by two months. My memory of Truman as a baby does not include any crying ever---how is that for some major momnesia??


It should be mentioned that Porter still believes his car seat is a torture device. This is a record for Time Spent Hating Road Trips by any of my children and it's basically pure misery for all involved. Therefore, we walk most places whenever possible. Life is way too short to hear my baby lose his voice over the screaming. This phase can pass WHENEVER and we will be more than happy to see it's dirty face go!

  Superficial: Poter is the cutest! His ears are huge, his head is of the torpedo-egg-shaped variety, his eyes are a pretty blue and he hasn't lost any of his fuzzy baby hair yet. Acne was gone a few weeks ago and cradle cap still at bay. His two month appointment isn't for another two weeks but he's just now fitting into a few 3-6 month outfits due to his length. Sometimes I think he's roly-poly FAT and other times I think he's my tiniest baby yet. We'll see in a few more weeks but basically, he is adorable. The smiliest, sweetest, handsomest Porter I've ever met! It's actually difficult for me to choose pictures for this post (which are only from the past week, since his 8 week post!) because there are so many of him smiling--what a great problem to have.

 



fave.


Egg head with huge ears!


ears!


belly!
 

collar!


  Motor stuff: P does alright with tummy time, sometimes showing off mad neck skillz but other times revolting against the concept with his cheek placed firmly against the ground. He likes to be held upright (to see the big world around him!) and I can tell his head control is much better lately. He's accidentally grabbed his dangling animal friends that hang from the play yard and it sort of freaked him out, until he realized it was fun to yank their chains a bit.

 

  Baby of the Family: Truman and Cecelia cannot get enough of their baby brother. I sort of thought the novelty would have worn off by now but they love him so hard, it actually causes issues at times. Fighting over who gets to hold him, who gets to hand mommy his diaper, who gets to find the lost pacifier are all 'sweet' in their own way but not really. They both ask where he is, if he is awake, and they're constantly kissing his head and making googly eyes at their bro. He eats it up and I can't wait to see how the dynamic between Truman and Cecelia's relationship changes as they interact more with mister P.

My boys:   

And my little guys:
 

 I love this baby so freaking much, and never want this sweet time of maternity leave to end. But at the same time, I'm very much looking forward to watching him grow up and hit milestones and become his own little person even more than he already is.

Happy two months, Portie. We love you!

Question: How many kids do you want to have?

Even before we got married, I would always answer with the above response. And it's still the accurate response because I'm maddeningly torn between having a third child and being done with my two. I feel that I must write this overly analytical, wishy washy post on whether or not to have a third but I do NOT want you all to feel like I'm begging for the following comment: 'You should totally have a third kid!' Because I'm not asking for that validation in putting this indecisiveness out there. Prom. I'm sure there are other moms in my position, going back and forth over the prospect of another pregnancy and I remember reading Laura's thoughts on this topic (loved it to death). Plus, I love to plan and over-think and control things. Hence this post. And this blog.

So, my kids are pretty freaking rad. Not sure I've ever used the word 'rad' before and that probably makes me incredibly lame and geriatric....but they are. Truman and Cecelia are freaking awesome. I adore being their mother---it's the most rewarding and the most challenging role of my life. I love my kids so much that I frequently find myself grinning like a creepster when I'm looking at their pictures or thinking about something cute they did the other day. Especially now, after crossing the magical first year milestone with my 'baby', I find myself feeling both settled and ready for the next shake up.

It's a paradox that I didn't really expect; I figured once Cecelia turned one I would just know whether or not we were done having kids. In fact, whenever anyone asked the golden question prior to her birthday, I'd say, 'We aren't even going to discuss it until CC turns one.' Because, duh. The first year is crazy hard and I feel like life has to be on the 'just getting by' setting until babies grow up a little bit, life settles down, and the dust settles. And now that the dust is settling (and we are all sleeping again), I'm kind of like, 'Well, that wasn't too awful. Let's do it again.'

To which Nate replies, 'You are crazy, woman.' Not really, but he would definitely be MORE than fine with 'just' these two whipper snappers. His take on the matter is that we have two happy, healthy children...one boy, one girl...and they are more than enough to keep us busy over the years. Also, he likes to put on his dollar sign glasses and the cost of a third kid would be no joke, just like the two we have now tend to make a big impact in our budget. Cha-ching!

A third would mean we'd definitely need a new car sooner than later, although that is probably going to happen even if we don't procreate again. My beloved ride is twelve years old and starting to show some signs of the end of her sweet life...but she is a trooper and hanging on for now. We have a three bedroom home that we don't plan on moving out of anytime soon, if ever. I think having two kids share a bedroom is totally acceptable and seems kind of fun. Nate thinks it would never work. So then he thinks that the dream-worthy addition we like to talk about adding onto our house would be another 'must' which, of course, makes him grab his wallet for dear life. Another partially unpaid maternity leave, more clothes, more food, more diapers, etc.....and then of course the 'big kid' expenses like sports and activities and freaking college. Which will probably be a bajillion dollars each semester by the time our kids are there, but whatever.

Kids are expensive. But kids are freaking amazing and even Nate will say that he's not totally opposed to a third kid (cue the inner squeal!), but he's not totally convinced that is what is best for our family.

And honestly? I'm not totally convinced I want to push for a third, either. I love being pregnant, I love the magic of labor and delivery (WITH drugs, thank you very much), and that special dreamlike time when a new member of the family arrives? I could bottle it up, I love it so much. Newborns are hard but they are cleverly adorable. It's the daily routine with three kids that freaks me out the most. Three in and out of the car. Three baths. Three mouths to feed. Three kids all sick at the same time, creating messes at the same time, wanting to be held at the same time. The NEEDS of three kids, all resting directly on my shoulders when my parenting partner isn't there to share the weight of those needs. Would three be the straw that breaks the camel's (my) back? Would I be able to handle the chaos? Would I lose it mentally? Reading this article makes me very, very nervous, my friends. I think life is crazy with two but sometimes I cannot even imagine the stress level with three.

But it's a blip in the radar of life, right? So quickly we forget the pain of birth, the sleepless nights, the frustrating moments of mothering young kids. Selective momnesia, I suppose. I'm a good mom and I think I would be up for the challenge of three. When my inner skeptic questions if I'm cut out to be a mom of three, my inner competitor likes to say, 'Watch me.' I might have multiple personalities, yes, point taken.

As I packed up Cecelia's bottles the other day, I felt a rush of excitement and butterflies in my stomach thinking about getting these bottles out again for another baby. When I dig through baby clothes bins in our attic I can't help but get a little giddy thinking about whether we would see the boy clothes or the girl clothes on another little bitty baby. I will pass by my 'pregnancy test/ovulation strips/charting stuff' box in the attic and smile, because how fun/exhausting/exciting to think about doing it all over again. A growing belly. Kicks from the inside. Another birth story. And then another newborn blur for the first weeks/months/year. I could totally do it again. In a heartbeat.

Without being too 'out there', somedays I have a flash forward vision when I picture myself driving a mini van all over town, and the van is packed full of three kids. I see three spunky kids throwing food at each other/yelling/singing/laughing behind my drivers seat. I see three different personalities and activities and three different backpacks strewn across our house. A calendar jammed with soccer games and tee ball and dance class and Lord knows what else. The taxi-cab years are something I'm actually looking forward to, although I'm sure it will be ridiculously crazy. But a good crazy. I imagine three kids coming home from college, three weddings, three sets of grandkids. I like to dream and a lot of them include three.

I hate letting negative thoughts sit in my head, so I might as well get them all out here. I also worry that we'd be pushing our luck with a third and what if we had a baby not as healthy, one with special needs or behavior issues, or one that is seriously ill? Part of me is still quite shaken up from my last two pregnancies. Having one really horrible/prolonged miscarriage and then Cecelia's pregnancy when she was not supposed to make it either has really left an impression on me. As they should, I suppose. Maybe I would have a really hard time even getting pregnant next time. Or another loss. Or worse. I'm not naive enough to think that I can just snap my fingers and make the decision to have another healthy baby in my arms. And I know there are women out there who would give almost anything to be in my shoes with two precious babes napping upstairs as I type this.

Sometimes I think that I need to learn contentment with the many blessings I've been given. How could I ever say that Truman and Cecelia are not enough, when they are the dearest blessings I could have ever imagined? To say that I'm grateful for my babies is the understatement of the year, and I try to never ever take them for granted. I worry that asking God for a third baby would be like saying I'm not happy with my current two. Which is obviously NOT the case but that is my inner pessimist talking.

After I think about the fears of a third kid a bit I always come back to this: I was also scared and nervous about adding Truman and then Cecelia to our family. Going from 0-1 was hard and going from 1-2 was also hard, but in different ways. And we all survived and I am so thankful we took those leaps of faith each time. I didn't know what it would be like to juggle one, and then two kids. The day-to-day stuff scared me then and thinking about it with a third scares me now. But I know that if we were blessed AGAIN with another child we would never regret that sweet baby. We might have some pretty low moments in the middle of the night after getting horribly broken sleep and tending to the needs of a preschooler and a toddler on top of a newborn. Oh, there would be hard times, for sure. But in my heart I absolutely think that the highs would still outweigh the lows. Kids are just the best, and having more kids would bring even more joy. Right?

So I've always wanted two or three. Nate would be fine with two but I'm sure I could convince him about a third. Plus I think technically he has also always said 'two or three' as his answer, even before marriage. But no matter what, we will wait awhile to make our final decision. There's no rush. I love our 2 year and 3 month age gap but waiting even longer than that would be fine, too. So for now I will continue to go back and forth over this matter every.single.day. One day I am certain we are done and the next I'm even MORE positive we'll have a third. Which basically means we are 50/50 at this point. Totally undecided, and that's ok.

Because life is still awesome with T and C as the epicenters. And feeling content is never a bad thing. And there's never a dull moment with these guys.