A Letter

Dear Brad Paisley-
I'm quite certain my husband writes the songs you sing. Much like Barry Manilow and the Whole World, but much much better! After all, how is it that you sing lines that are obviously about me like "she's a one glass of wine and she's feeling kinda tipsy" and "she's the giver I wish I could be and the stealer of the covers" and what about "to the world you may be just another girl but to me baby, you are the world."

Anywho...last spring after hearing you sing one of my husband's songs, I declared "If Brad Paisley comes to town, we must see him!" Now I have to let you know that at the time, I was a few weeks pregnant with our 2nd boy. And I must also let you know that we played around with the idea of naming our boy Huck - we thought you wouldn't mind sharing your baby's name.

Well low and behold, not too long after this declaration, I read in the paper that you would be in town...on November 20...2 days before I was to birth our sweet baby via c-section. This in no way hampered my original plan so my dear husband proceeded to purchase concert tickets.

Now not only would I be very very VERY pregnant when you were in town, but hearing you sing live the words my husband wrote about me, well...I knew I'd be a blubbering mess. And the only thing worse than a girl crying is a ginormously pregnant girl crying - no - blubbering. And let's be honest, my husband is quite...uhm...well...frugal. So we opted for the cheap seats. I just needed to wedge myself in a seat somewhere way up high in the dark and I'd be on cloud 9!

I need to let you know Mr. Paisley - Brad if I may - my first baby boy was overdue - 1 whole week to be exact! So we were in no way worried that second baby boy was going to budge. Boy were we wrong!

On the very morning of your concert, I began cleaning like a maniac (can you say nesting?). That afternoon, we were going back and forth about the concert. I had used up my daily allotted energy cleaning and was all kinds of swollen. We decided this was probably the last time we'd be a part of society for quite a while so we may as well partake in the concert going!

I finished up some work then got on the BOK Center website to try and figure out parking. Lord knows I needed something super close as my feet were swollen into giant clubs. After navigating around and realizing my silly pregnant brain wasn't getting us anywhere, my beloved told me to get up so he could take a stab at this parking situation.

Brad, it was at this moment the decision to not go to the concert was made for us. My water broke! I said this to my husband "Uhm...my water just broke". I had been playing "girl who cries amniotic sack rupture" for about a month now so he's all - yeah right. "Uhm. No. Look". He looks...then..."OK. OK. OK. OK. Uhm...what do we do? OK. OK. OK."

Fast forward to the hospital. In the c-section room, I told everyone how we were missing the Brad Paisley (your) concert. Everyone agreed it was probably for the best that we weren't there. A nurse turned on the radio to a local country station. I don't remember what songs we heard, but I do remember one - "Little Moments". I cried. My husband cried. It was perfect. Oh and I heard "Hillbilly Bone" when they were putting me back together and I thought that was pretty funny.

So there you have it! You will forever be a part of our son's birth story. Oh and his name is Thatcher (from my mind) and Rippy (after his great grandpa). He's going to be a star lineman for his high school football team and an astounding scientist!

Yours Truly,
-Jenny


Guess which one cost more?

Story Time!

Remembering Grandma

I can't believe it's been 3 months today that we lost our dear sweet grandma. I miss her everyday and even more so when I have trying times with the boys. When they are being more than I can handle, I just know my grandma would've known what to do. I cry because I can't reach out to her for advice.

I'm so lucky to have so many precious memories that I think about often like...

When I was little, my grandma used to wash my hair at the kitchen sink then comb it out while I watched TV.

Grandma always said to chew a 1/2 stick of gum so you wouldn't smack...though this never stopped her from smacking her gum!

Grandma always had bananas (my favorite!) and cookies on hand.

When Grandma would call Grandpa on the CD radio, she always said "Base to unit 1, come in Carl". I even got to call him from time to time and I would say it just like she did!

Grandma would always turn down your bed when you stayed the night with her.

Grandma always had her fingernails painted and took care in how she looked.

Grandma was your biggest fan. No matter what you chose to do, she was proud and showed genuine interest.

And one of my very last memories that is so precious to me is watching my grandma rock my sweet baby Tucker to sleep.

There are a million more memories that I hope never fade away.

I hope when my babies have babies, I can be half the grandma to them that mine was to me. I hope in my hugs and kisses, they find the love, strength and wisdom that I feel she's passed on to me.

God I miss her.

So Proud.

I seem to keep hearing the same thing:


You are lucky you have a husband like Alec who helps you with _____________ (fill in the blank).


I know I am.

When he says "I love you." I say "I know" because only love can make him put up with all he puts up with.


Those who love me love him. My grandma would always tell me to be good to him because he's so good to me.


I hope I'm being good.


Because I love him more than he can ever imagine.


And I'm so very proud he's my husband.


And my babies' daddy.

Two Under Two Too Much?

Man! What have we gotten ourselves into? This whole idea of having 2 babies under the age of 2 is starting to be way more work than I had anticipated!

When we were pregnant with Thatcher, the term 2 under 2 kept popping up - usually with a few giggles - from our friends and family. I honestly thought the only thing that may be a challenge would be the amount of diapers we were going to go through. Honestly - that was it!

I thought - infants are easy! They just need a full belly, a dry bottom and a cozy little place to nap the day away. While said infant was napping away, we would play with our bouncing of the walls toddler. Boy was I wrong!

Tucker was an easy baby - which now I realize was very deceiving. We thought that's how all babies were. Just happy little bundles of joy. Heck, why not have another? How fun!

Then Thatcher came along. He doesn't seem to be a very happy bundle of joy. He's more like a fussy hot mess. We spend most of our time with him going back and forth - does he not feel well? is it colic? he feels fine. it's colic. no...does he really not feel well? ok. yeah. it's colic.

So now not only do we have a bouncing off the walls toddler, we also have a fussy hot mess of a baby. And our days - well - they stink. They really do.

We've decided the easiest thing to do at this point is just surrender - give up. Instead of waking up on Saturdays with thoughts of accomplishing errands and home projects, one of us holds the baby while the other entertains the toddler. Or if someone must take a shower, then the other has the task of comforting baby and playing with toddler at the same time.

Every now and then, we luck out and they take naps at the same time. During this time, we either throw ourselves down on the couch in complete exhaustion or we speed through chores like laundry and the never ending task of picking up toys - never ending!

I feel like I've lost my body and looks to my sweet boys and now my sanity is slowing going away too. I know things will eventually get better but it's really hard to imagine they ever will. I so look forward to that time. But for now, I'm that sleep deprived half crazed frumpy mama with no make-up wearing sweat pants everywhere. Nice to meet you. Please don't giggle about my 2 under 2.

Oh - now read this all again and throw 3 dogs into the mix. I may cry.

Please Accommodate Me!

When Tucker was a wee one and I was a bumbling breastfeeding mom, I pretty much stayed holed up in our house. I didn't want to risk being in public with a starving infant.

This time around, I want to get out with our boys and experience life outside our four walls. However, I'm finding those around us are not so accommodating towards breastfeeding mamas.

For instance, today we went to a friend's birthday party and one of those bouncy places. Thatcher slept for a good while and I thought he'd last until we made it back home. But alas, about half way through the party, Thatcher woke up, famished as usual.

We asked an employee if they have a family room or someplace we could tuck away to do our business. The naive teenager said "the bathroom". Really? The bathroom?

So I attempted to give Thatcher an "emergency"premade formula bottle but he refused. Ok. Soooo...we're gonna do this. I grabbed the baby and my diaper bag and went in search of the restroom.

I sat up shop in the handicap stall because I needed all the room I could get. I wasn't about to plop down on the floor so I sat on the toilet seat (no lid), which was nice and loose, and proceeded to feed my starving child. After he finished one side, I stood up and burped him which resulted in a river of spit up all down my back and on the floor. *sigh*

I sat back down on the toilet and rotated Thatcher to the other side all the while rocking back and forth on the loose seat. While he nursed, I attempted to throw toilet paper on the spit up pool and wipe it around with my foot.

When he finished, I again burped him but used a burp rag over my spit up soaked shoulder this time! Smart! Oh but wait! This burp resulted in a nice blowout on the other end. And who didn't pack a change of clothes? Not smart.

So now I'm balancing my poo covered baby on my spit up soaked shoulder while I attempt to pick up the toilet paper mess on the floor.

Really? No family room at all? SERIOUSLY!

I successfully changed the very messy diaper, threw on some lipstick, plastered a smile on my face and went back to the party smelling of spit up and poopy baby. pretty.

I think if I wasn't so modest, I wouldn't be so mortified by the thought of breastfeeding in public. I have a couple of cute cover-ups and have mastered a comfortable Boppy-free position. But the thought of having my boob out and everyone around me conscious of said boob...absolutely mortifying!

This is my plea - just have a nice little family room. Heck, at this point, I'd settle for a folding chair in a bathroom stall. I just think breastfeeding mamas should have the right to a little privacy. Really, is that too much to ask?

And We're Back!

I finally got a new computer (YAY!) so hopefully I'll be able to blog a bit more.

Where to begin after being MIA for over a month?!?!

Well I'm back at work - went back on January 3. I stayed pretty caught up during my maternity leave so it wasn't quite so bad going back. I only cried a little bit when I left Thatcher at his grandparents - totally not like when I had to leave Tucker for the first time.

In fact, there are so many things that are totally different this time around.

With Tucker, I was a complete control freak. I know - me? a control freak? It's true. I was so particular about every little thing - when he ate, how much he ate, how much he peed, how much he pooped, how much milk I pumped...the tiniest of details, I fretted over. I remember crying almost daily if I thought I didn't pump enough milk.

But with Thatcher, I've totally thrown all rules and expectations out the window...ok maybe not all, but quite a few! My only concern is that he's a happy and healthy baby - whatever it takes (or doesn't take) to get him there is all I'm worried about.

And on that note, I must go cuddle with my sweet baby boy who is up way past his bedtime.

I have so much to say and so many pictures to post, I'm sooooo very excited to be up and running again....more to come...