Jonah can now full on giggle.  Although, like smiles, giggles are hard to capture on film.

I LOVE Thomas's smile in this picture. He looks as mischievous as he is

I downloaded Lora Jensen’s sleep training book online.  I know, most will say it’s a waste of money.  But, as a first time mom, I just really needed someone to tell me what to do.  I confused myself too much if I actually thought about it.  So, the objective approach was to let someone else just give me directions.

So, I made a plan.  I told everyone this was the day.  I drank a latte in the afternoon. I had gathered my troops.  I wrote down the schedule.  I reviewed it with Dusty.  I re-read it to be sure I knew what I had planned.  I rocked Jonah during his last feeding and asked him if he was ready for D-Day.

First rule: head had to hit the pillow by 8 pm.  It did.  Then terrible noises came from it.  Over and over.  He didn’t really care where I was setting him, but that he wasn’t nursing.  Why wasn’t he nursing?  “LET MEEEEEEEEE NURSE!”  He was worse when Dusty would pick him up – “YOU ARE NOT THE RIGHT ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  Dusty and I started talking, anticipating the hours ahead we were practicing blocking out the crying.

Then his head hit the pillow and he was out.  OMG, he was asleep.  It had only been 45 minutes!  I watched the monitor for about two hours, just knowing he was charging up for his next attack.  Know what he did next?  SLEPT!

It was like Christmas and my birthday all in one.  As if someone were massaging my neck while spoon feeding me creme brulee.  It was 8:45, I was alone, and I did not have to go to bed!  I was given my life back!!!    I drank a bunch of margaritas and laughed at my own jokes!  I snuck out of the house through the back window and hung out around a bonfire with my friends all night!  I dyed my hair!! I smoked some pot while listening to Pink Floyd!  Those 14 years that I had aged since Jonah’s arrival were back!  I was reliving my childhood!!!!!

All I really did was play on the internet and have a conversation with my husband.  But the thrill this brought was unparalleled by any of the above (reckless and horrible) activities I may or may not have ever participated in.  I had been so prepared to stay up all night, and now this wave of freedom washed over me and I could not sleep.  I stayed up the entire time Jonah was sleeping the best he has in weeks just to watch it happen.

This house has been born again!!!!  At least I have been, no one else seems to really get what the big freaking deal is.

I have recently discovered that it is a damn good thing I have never had to housetrain a puppy.  Mine came housetrained, or she’d be peeing all over everything.  I know this because I am having major anxiety about sleep training Jonah.

If you are a mom, you are REQUESTED to comment, if you feel like it, of course.  So, here is how it’s gone down:  Jonah is 11 weeks and has pretty much been sleeping in my bed and his swing.  Those are the only two things that put him to sleep – boobies or a swing.  Rocking him doesn’t work, it will OCCASIONALLY work for Dusty, but he wakes right up when dust puts him down.  So… he hasn’t even been sleeping in the bassinet by the bed.  He goes back and forth between the bed and the swing. 

I would not mind co-sleeping with Jonah EXCEPT, like sleeping with other men, it is IMPOSSIBLE for him to forget that I have boobies.  He can’t sleep by me for 4 straight hours, he rolls over every 1.5 – 2 hrs to nurse.  This is causing problems because A) LIke I want to be up every 1.5 hrs and B) I swear he gets overfull at night, and has digestive issues in the wee hrs of the night because he is nursing so damn much.  (just my theory). Oh, and nevermind that he nor I really sleep at all.

SO…  here is what I am doing.  Thursday night.  THURSDAY NIGHT, come one come all to the sleep training circus.  Jonah will be put in his crib in his room, and will be given ONE bottle at night by Dusty.  ONE.  I know he can sleep for longer, he sleeps for 4 hrs in the daytime.  So, I don’t feel bad about not letting him eat all night.  I am doing the “when he cries, pat him gently, and leave right when he is settled down” thing.  I’ve read all about it, aqnd I’m talking to a lady on the internet too.  LOL.  Serious. 

It’s Thursday because I start work this week, and will be gone Tuesday, Wed, and Thursday.  Maybe it’s a bad time to start, but I have got to get him out of my bed.  I can’t go on.  So…..  Sarah advised that I start AFTER this week of work rather than before, or during, since he and I will likely be a wreck.  Good advice, I am sure.  So  I guess…  I’m just nervous.   I really just don’t want to struggle with it for one, two, three, ten nights.  I know they say three, but let’s get real.  So…. grrrrr.  Right?  I mean, super Grrr… why is it so hard when I haven’t even tried?  This is why I can never get a puppy.  My baby wants to nurse so he can be relaxed and fall asleep and I’m gonna say no.  Not once, not twice, but like 4,000 times.    I know that he likes to sleep all nestled up, in a small little coccoon, and rather than make one for him, I’m just gonna say “tough.” GRRRRRRRR. 

Advice, mommies? Is he old enough to accept being in his crib, alone, and nursing ONCE?  Am I expecting too much?  To little?  Because I can also require he verbally request “Booby, mother” just to push him a little.

Do other people have such a hard time with this or just members of my family?  Am I carrying around strange baggage?   I am worried about trying this and him not being “Ready” for it, and it being a disaster and then him ending in my bed again, and on and on and on…….

You may remember that last year Beulah treed a German in our quince tree.  Now, you may have thought that good laughs was all that tree was good for.  I certainly thought this.  But, this year I decided to get it in gear and DO SOMETHING with all those quince.

Every year it sorta stares me in the eyes, this tree.  It calls me a sissy.  I can hear it laughing at me from inside.  Over the last four years, I have attracted quince fans in the neighborhood, and they come back every year to get free quince so they can make dulce de membrillo.  It’s a “candy” that is sortof like a drier, stickier, room-temperature jello. 

Mom came to watch Jonah the other day, so I decided to get some work done.  I climbed around in the tree and got most of the quince. 

This is no small pile

After harvesting them, some layed on the ground, waiting to be put into buckets,

But some posed for pictures

Quick lesson:  A quince is the size of an apple, but much harder.  So hard that it’s like biting into a tree.  It’s really bitter too, so you can’t eat them fresh.  I am the only person that I know who has a quince tree.  Some lady told me I am the only one in SLC who has a quince tree, but I’m sure that’s not true.  (Although it IS my official claim-to-fame, so when people ask you about me, you can say “the girl who has the quince tree.”)

After living here for four years watching in misery as my neighbors successfully used these fruit- look what I completed on Friday:

VICTORY at long last! I captured their souls into this here jar!

Six quince make two and a half jars of quince ginger butter.  It’s REALLY good!  I was shocked that I completed that batch before Jonah woke up from his nap, and I even considered making a second batch.  However, that will have to wait until another day.  So, six down, 2050 to go.  (no, I didn’t actually count them).

If, by any chance, you are looking for a good quince recipe, here it what I used.  And if you are looking for quince, let me know.

He is ten weeks old today.  TEN.  He is blabbering a ton; most talkative kid ever.  And he is starting to smile at EVERYTHING!  He loves new people and especially kids.  When cousin Thomas tries to kill him by dumping him out of his bouncy seat, or when he rips the binky out of his mouth, or when he gives him a nice little kiss, Jonah laughs and laughs.  Kids are funny.  He doesn’t laugh when I kiss him.

He is still sleeping in any and every available surface in this house besides his crib.  This includes my shins, where he slept this am from about 6:40 until 8:15.  I had fed him and sorta just tipped backwards on my bed, exhausted, then realized he was asleep on a bed pillow, tilted so his face was against my shin.  I wasn’t about to upset the situation, so that’s how we slept. He didn’t suffocate, don’t worry.  Shins aren’t very fatty- even mine.  He hates being swaddled, doesn’t really love being rocked, but loves being in a tight warm spot.  A rabbit hole would suit him nicely.  But, I think they say not to stick your kids down rabbit holes until they are at least 5 months.  So yeah, about sleeping… it causes me anxiety.  The fact that he doesn’t have a “place” that he sleeps in all the time. It’s hard on my sense of practicality that he is a baby and doesn’t give a shit.  Again, this is another milestone that I need to mature into one day.  He’ll help me get there, I am sure.

Next Tuesday I have to face the music and return to work.  UGH this makes my laziness hurt.  Yes, I am sad to leave my child.  But mostly, I am just dreading how much work it will be (not actual work, of course – work is no work at all).  Just getting up in the morning, packing his bag, juggling his babysitters, pumping, working on no sleep, and still managing to cook food and walk my dog.  It makes me cry thinking about it. I have three of the best babysitters ever – grandma, grandma, and aunt Sarah!    So, I really am not to afraid to leave him.

I will be working 20 hrs a week for four weeks, then back to the full 40.  I have also applied for a part time job for another state agency, so we’ll see where that leads.  As in – I will quit my other job and work only 20 hrs.  NOT as in I need a part time job on the side.  I don’t mind having to work, I just have adjusted real nice to my little life at home.  I have started using phrases on Dusty that I saw on shows like “Wife Swap” or “House Hunters.”  I say them, then sorta shudder to myself at what I have become.  Yesterday I made so many good jokes when he got home from work, he told me I needed to lay off the little yellow pill.

So, I guess some might say I am actually ready to get back to work.  Ugh. work… what am I going to do in a place where even the little yellow pills won’t help me?

I can’t believe it has been a year since we got married.  It feels like an eternity.  What?  That’s not a compliment?  Well, it does feel that way.  It’s Jonah’s fault, his arrival made us both suddenly age 14 years. 

For our anniversary, we did a few short activities this weekend centered around a theme.  That theme?  Joe Dirt – my favorite movie of all time.  (not really, that’s just a funny inside joke between me and myself).

On Saturday, we decided to address the leak in our bathroom tub.  This has been leaking for a year.  You would think we would have dealt with it by now, but it’s been on and off, and after this story you will see why we haven’t?  Have I mentioned that machines hate us? Yes, a tub is a machine.

So, we can’t tell where the leak is coming from and opt to just take everything off.  Removing the faucet (which I refer to as “the nose”) is not easy because it is two inches away from a wall and we have to jointly turn the wrench, coming at it from two angles.  This is to remove “big silver,” or so I call the nut thingy on the back holding it all together.

So, it takes us ALL of Saturday to get the faucet removed.  We did not have time to put it back together. One tub down. 

Saturday night we decided to go bowling.  Yes, bowling for our anniversary.  And we began the night with some Rooster Rojo!  This is not just any chicken… it’s rojo y bueno!

Shawn recommended it, and he is a chicken connoisseur.  And, he was right – sorta.  We were the only one in this divey restaurant that sits in front of the bowling alley.  It serves Mexican baked chicken with rice and beans.  The two women behind the counter were wearing halloween headbands.  We sat down to eat there and the music was blaring.  “Te Quiero whoa whoa…”  and early 90’s American radio hits.  Meanwhile, the Glen Beck show was blaring from a large screen tv.  Dusty and I tried to argue about Gled Beck and the retarded fake interviews he was doing, but it was too stinking loud to hear much.

The chicken was dry.  Dry, but really good.  I might have to try it again. It was not as good as the Carl’s Jr. Hamburgers we had after our wedding.

Then we went and bowled two games and Dusty did manage to break 100.  Barely.  Seriously, I cannot bowl.  75, I think was my score. 

I was really glad, however, that earlier in the evening, when I was wearing some khaki pants and a t-shirt, Dusty made me “put something nicer on” since it was our anniversary.  I felt much better about myself.

That was our evening.  Then we rushed home to my sister’s where I had a baby that had been screaming for an hour because he refused his bottle.  I told her to just latch him on to her or Shawn’s nipple, but she didn’t get to that point. 

So, I walk in the door, latch him on, and he’s like “do da do, suck suck, nuzzle nuzzle, breath deep, fall asleep.”  Seriously, has anyone ever considered removing  a boob and sending it in a diaper bag?  Anyone else (besides Sarah) have this problem?  ALL he wants is to nurse.   And it’s not a “growth spurt” because it is how he has been from the start.  He loves boobs more than anyone (except Thomas).  So, pray for my nipples.

Sunday morning we decide to head out to breakfast at “The Other Place” where we both eat hashbrowns covered in melted cheese, eggs, bacon, and don’t forget the pancakes.  MMMMMMMMmmmmm  it paired nicely with the Rooster from the night before.

We return home for some more anniverrary tub action, after traveling to Lowe’s and hearing that our faucet is not “standard” and we will have to order a new one.  So, no tub for how long?  Well, have I got a solution for that!

Bathtub or Fish Tank? You decide.

Those hard water stains are real, folks.  My tub is probably older than the house.  But, really cute.  So…  While at Lowe’s we needed to have a temporary fix so we could wash ourselves in the next week or two (since we have to go places other than the bowling alley).  So, I see plastic piping and create an awesome temporary faucet.  You turn it on down on the floor where you turn on the water and then it flows through these cool pipes.  It works marvelously.  Wonder why we have fancy faucets in the first place.

So, that’ still how the tub sits.  It’s awesome.  And the shower curtain and rod are sitting over the toilet. The faucet that I think might fit our tub was online and was titled “mobile home faucet”.  LOL.  Rad.  They, unfortunately, do not have a mobile home section in Lowe’s.  (in doing more research, that is not the faucet we need.  Same look, wrong measurements).

So… do we know how to party or what?  How about you don’t come to my house for a while?  We have not yet fully recovered from our weekend long white trash anniversary party!  Hoot Hoot!!!!

 I AM A BAD FRIEND.  I mean, not just because I talk about my friends behind their backs.  But, because I didn’t even call, or text, or email my perfectest friend in the world when it was her birthday on September 14th.  There is no excuse because our birthdays are close. She called me and said Happy B-day.  I didn’t even say “you too”.  Grr.. I hate it when I do that. 

I was especially reminded of how much I love her when I was in the refrigerator the other day:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING!

Jonah had his two month appointment on Saturday.  He is doing really well; gaining some weight.  He screamed so loud when he got vaccinations that he kinda shocked himself and then looked at me like “what the crap was that?” Doctor informed us he is in the tenth percentile for height / weight.  I had stopped calling him an elf / imp when his cheeks finally pudged out a little, but it seems I might have been moving a little too quickly on that. I think I can still call him an elf if he’s in the 10th percentile!  I told him that as soon as he is old enough, he can start blaming Grandma Susy for that.

But, someone’s gotta be at the bottom of the size chart.  I should know, I’ve been there all my life.  He’s just lucky he doesn’t also have to be at the back of the line because of his last name.   The news about his small size actually reassures me because I now know that my biggest fear may be further from coming true.  With God on my side, my son will never want to play football.  There, I said it outloud.  Now it’s sure to happen.  Damnit.   

In other news, he is still eating wonderfully.  By that I mean every two hours.  ON THE NOSE.  FOREVER.  EVERY DAY.  It’s great!  (note sarcasm).  I try to push it longer, but you should see this kid when he’s mad.  It’s the “stop breathing because I am screaming so hard”  kind of pissed off. So, every two hours it is. UNLESS, like I previously mentioned, he’s in his swing.  I mean bed, I mean curer of all evils, love of his life.  If you want to get me something cool for Christmas – D batteries for the swing.  He sleeps in it now and may go 3 hrs on occasion in between meals thanks to our friend the swing.

Since he is small, people always comment about the “newborn” they see.  In the grocery store, on walks, etc.  I am sure they do this to everyone, but I wonder now if the comments I have gotten are due to his small size.  The other day I put him in this carrier:

I know he is supposed to hold his head up before he rides in this, but he is small enough to just peek over the front of it, which holds his head in place so he isn’t flopping around.  And, he LOVES it.  He really wants to be attached to me at all times, so this is great fun.  I walked into the Asian Market with this on, and the lady thought he was cute until she asked me how many months old he was.  When I said two, she glared at me and looked away.  LOL.  Serious.  Then she told me the material was rubbing on his face and that it was really cold outside (it wasn’t, we were in long sleeved t-shirts).   Two month olds can’t go on walks?  I never knew, but now I do.  Funny part of this is that I can’t wait to find out how long people glare at me for.  He may still be peaking over the edge of that carrier when he’s 6.

As I travel further along in this journey, I am finding a few things I didn’t know before.  Yes, that did come as a shock to a person who already knew everything.  But, there really are all these little things that nobody ever told you about being a parent.  And, if you read any of my pregnancy blogs, it’s highly likely that someone did tell me all this and I blogged about how I wish they’d stop talking to me about all their ailments.   

 Here is my list thus far (some or all of this may qualify as Too Much Information, which explains why I’ve never heard about these things). 

And here is Jonah as "the thinker" urging you to take note of Mommy's discoveries

1) I never knew that other people’s houses were covered from top to bottom in milk stains.  I now know that behind every pillow, on every floorboard – milk stains.  I knew breastfeeding would be hard emotionally and physically, but… like, it’s hard in the same way as rollerblading while holding onto Beulah’s leash is (note: that activity ended bad).  I have settled into a good routine with Jonah, he LOVES to eat, or pretends to eat because he LOVES to nurse.  You’d think by now I would figure it out, but pretty much all my shirts – milk stains.  All my pajamas?  Yup, those too.  The couch cushions?  Dear God, I got those too.  Pants?  Yup.  I feel like a shaken bottle of soda that someone opens TWELVE times a day.   No matter how long I have this baby, I will NOT remember that when I go to the grocery store I should wear breast pads.   When getting out of the shower, it never occurs to me to HURRY before there are puddles on the floor. Yup, I just said all of this. OUT LOUD!  So, now you all know. Also, breast milk isn’t like the milk you drink, which you wouldn’t expect to stain.  Breast milk is a bit oily, that means stains.  It’s all over my whole house and inevitably, the houses of all the other mothers in your life.  Who knew? Likely everyone but me.

Even dad manages to get milk stained

2) It hurts.  No, not birth.  I’m not getting into that, (although I do have the pictures from that part that Sarah took  if anyone wants to see how much it does hurt.  I allowed this to happen, so note the effects of heavy pain meds)   But, since Jonah’s birth, every other part of my body hurts.  Both my arms go numb while I sleep.  This is likely because my breasts hurt if I put any pressure on them, so I use my arms as sleeping props.  Or they are numb from lugging around this sack of potatoes all day (more the size of a sack of red potatoes than of russets.)  Or they are numb because I fall asleep with him and have to be upside down and in a double back bend so as to not disturb him.  For some strange reason, my left thumb has this pain that comes and goes sortof like a charlie horse.  And, I keep thinking I am getting shocked when opening things with my right hand, but realize it’s just a funky nerve thing when I do certain motions with my hand.  Both my hips hurt from sleeping in funky positions either because Jonah’s with me, or because I’m leaning to see his crib from the floor or the monitor from the bed or the carseat from anywhere else. Also, strangely, my feet hurt.  This one, I can’t figure out.  All the walking around the house, rocking him or from using my feet muscles to get myself up from various positions “without disturbing the baby?”  I didn’t know that I would feel pain in my entire body for the rest of my life, and I would expect, with all the soreness, a few less pounds on my frame.  But don’t worry.  All those extra pounds are safe and sound on my ass.

I think those are the only two things I now know that I didn’t know before.  I am sure there will be more and I know you are all looking forward to hearing about all of them.  

Jonah obviously is