A means to an end

While sitting, yet again, in traffic on 270 this past Sunday afternoon I was struck with an epiphany- I like car traveling the same way as I like being pregnant.

Let me explain.

My pregnancy with Molly was not riddled with problems or scares. It was relatively easy and I'm thankful for the ease but I didn't love it. I know there are women who glow and adore growing the bulging bump. For me, I wondered at the miracle growing in my body while also wishing the parasite (yes, I am a horrible mother for saying that) would allow me to have a beer with dinner or buckle my sandals. So I didn't love pregnancy but I knew I would love what was growing- Molly.

Now for traveling...This past weekend Wyatt, my sister Julia, Molly and I set out to meet up with the rest of my immediate family at a sweet campground in Pennsylvania (shout out to Shenango RV Park). The 6+ hour trip really stretched Molly's previous car rides of 30 minutes. The outbound trip was trying. There was traffic, there were tears and screams, Google maps guides us in the wrong direction, blah, blah, blah. In the end we arrived and had 3 wonderful days surrounded by family (see pictures below). Looming in the very near future was the trip back. The trip back was a different story for Molly. She slept most of the car ride- yeah!! However the traffic was horrible. So as I sat in the backseat thankful for a sleeping baby while Wyatt so patiently navigated the bumper to bumper traffic two thoughts spun through my head:

1. Why don't they widen these darn roads from 2 lanes to 4 lanes?
2. My epiphany- I enjoy traveling in a car the same way I enjoyed pregnancy. The journey isn't much fun but it is the mean to an EXCELLENT end.

I explain this knowing that I will travel many, many miles to thoroughly enjoy the vacation at the end of the journey and, who knows, may even endure another 10 months of pregnancy for a Molly sibling.

For me the end is so much sweeter when there is a bit of uncomfortableness in the journey.

As promised here are some photos from the weekend. Enjoy....

 

Swinging with the Happiest Baby on the Block

So Molly has been alive for over one month. Score one for the parents!

Over the past four weeks we have grown to know our little nugget... when she's hungry, has a dirty diap, needs a nap and so on. At the beginning of the month we had no idea what we were doing but I think we are getting better because of these.....

Molly enjoying her swing.

Welcoming the early morning hours in style

Let me explain. About a week ago, Wyatt and I were dumbfounded when Miss Molly Mae would freak out for 1-2 hours at a time. Sometimes the freak out happened in the morning, sometimes in the evening. Thankfully never over the night time hours. We thought it was gas- so we bought some baby gas relief medicine (didn't work). We thought it was because she was hot or cold- so we added or subtracted layers (didn't work). I'm blaming the sheer desire for mental relief, I broke down and bought a swing.

You may say, "But a swing is a good purchase, Jeanette!" Indeed it is but in my bullheaded nature I was bound and determined to not be bombarded with baby things throughout the house thus no swing. It's amazing what a lack of sleep combined with mental and emotional anguish can do to bullheaded, and I admit a bit ridiculous, beliefs. So we have a swing and Molly enjoys it.... when she is already sleeping.

However we still need to endure the freak out to get to the sleep. We were getting closer....

She still freaked out and again with my bullheadedness I refused to believe this had to her's or our life for the next 2-3 months. So thus started a quest for solutions. Through research I stumbled across a resource, "The Happiest Baby on the Block" which laid out the 5 S's plan for calming an infant. The 5 S's are based on the belief that humans are born 3 months early, due to head/brain size, which means to calm them it is best to mimic the environment in which they should still be a part of, the womb. (Sounds like hooey, eh?) Written by a seasoned pediatrician gave it some credence but I remained skeptical UNTIL we tried it and IT WORKED!  She freaked out and we calmed her, and calmed her quickly. It was amazing and energizing. She freaked out again and we calmed her again.

As a new parent, it's empowering to have the confidence to calm your babe.

Oh and the second swing purchased last week was a great porch swing. Every morning the first rays of sun tell Molly- WAKE UP!! thus it's time for one of us to join her as she welcomes the day. When it is my morning to start the day with Miss Molly, I find myself drawn to the porch swing. We swing, she smiles and enjoys the breeze. It's growing to be my favorite time of the day. Our neighbor, Judy, has named the swing the Mollyfier. (hahaha, get it? That Judy is so clever!)

So that's how the Feelfus family is swinging into having the happiest baby on the block. It also doesn't hurt that we are the only ones on the block with a baby so defacto we have the happiest one!

Oh and not related to this post... here's a few of my favorites from our one month living room photo shoot. I'm told she is cute but obviously I have mom-goggles on.

Scenes from the Life of Socrates (and Molly)

Molly got a Socrates doll last week (thanks Barry & Amber!).  So of course, I (Wyatt) had to create a new post -- great moments from the life of Socrates (and Molly):

This is Socrates:

This is his disciple Molly:

Socrates asks Molly "Do the gods do good because it is good? or Is the good good because it is what the gods do?"  Molly is dumbfounded:

Socrates and Molly discuss the nature of love over wine at the symposium:

Socrates and Molly hanging out in Plato's cave:

Where they are making shadow animals on the wall:

But soon Socrates is arrested and sentenced to death:

Molly is upset:

Following Socrates' dying wish, Molly delivers a rooster to the god Asclepius:

Molly achieves Socratic enlightenment, knowing that she knows nothing:

Ode to the visitor

As Wyatt earns his best-dad-in-the-world stripes and continues to rock Miss Molly to sleep (we are going on 90 minutes, people) it prompts me to write a special note of thanks to the visitors we have had thus far. Both my sister, Jacki, and my mom were such an immense amount of help with actions and support.

Molly's first visitor was my sister, Jacki. She flew all the way from Portland, Oregon to be with us less than a week after Molly was born. She held Molly for endless hours allowing me to physically recuperate and begin the steps of comprehending how different my life has become. She worked outside on our sad, sad garden. But most of all she listened and supporter both Wyatt and I as we muddled through the first week. This was a common scene when Jacki was around....

Aunt Jacki and Miss Molly Mae.

She left and three days later my mom showed up. My mom or what she now proudly labels herself- Grandma Stoltzfus- spoiled us. She loved, loved, loved holding and caring for Molly. Raising four children herself, she is a seasoned expert and it shows. She reassured me that Molly was not sick whenever she cried (because yeah, I always jump to the worst) and told us we were doing a good job. She worked hours outside cleaning up the crazy jungle foliage surrounding our house. After eight glorious days she left to return to the farm. Here's a quick shot of Gma, Molly and Big Phil.

Grandma Stoltzfus, Miss Molly Mae and Big Phil

So now it's just us... and it's hard sometimes. It's hard when she cries and we don't know what to do. It's hard when we are tired, she is tired and we all just need to take a week-long nap. But when she is happy, when she gives a little gas or milk-coma induced smile it's easy to remember where the patience comes from.

She's our little Molly Mae. We created her and we love her.

Why I think of my baby like a Hebrew National Hotdog or "If you were a hotdog, would you eat yourself...?" or "Oh I wish I were an..."

I like hotdogs.  They can be pretty great.  And, if I'm in a hotdog mood, they might just be amazing.  For a hotdog you can buy at the store, all beef is definitely the way to go.  That means the Hebrew National just might be the greatest cook-it-yourself hotdog.  Put it in a potato roll and smother it in sauerkraut and horseradish and you're ready to go.

But when it comes to a hotdog's place in the wider world of food, let's face it; it's not that high.  Even a quality hotdog isn't BBQ ribs, or sushi, or duck confit.  It's good for what it is, but what it is is still a hotdog.

That's kind of how I think of babies -- and now, my baby.  I should warn you, this is the part of the post where I compare my child to a tube of meat product (though in fairness, when she's swaddled, she does kind of resemble a tube of human product).  So, let's all just agree to accept the inherent limits of any analogy, and go with it.

I'm not really a baby person.  Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been around babies that much.  Maybe it's the lawyer side of me that makes it hard for me to think of non-language communication as... well, communication.  My mom even says that I was never really a little kid -- always just kind of a small adult.  If I could have skipped straight to a later phase of development with my own progeny, I probably would have done it.  (Jeanette probably would have too.) But, now I have a baby.

And I like her.  She can be pretty great.  And, if I'm in a baby mood, she might just be amazing.  And of course, like a Hebrew National Hotdog, my baby is the greatest baby that the world has ever seen (in every conceivable way).

But looking at stages of life, she's definitely still a hotdog.  I mean, if this is lobster roll, I think I'm in for a long ride.  I imagine I'll look back at this stage fondly in some ways, but I doubt I'll want to go back.  I know the future will hold it's own share of challenges, but I've never had any doubt that I'm more cut out for the go-to-soccer-games, teach-her-how-to-play-chess, or help-her-figure-out-how-to-get-into-college stages of parenting (but hopefully not the let-her-live-in-my-basement-after-college stage).  Then again, if the potent cocktail of smart-ass-ness that Jeanette and my genes could produce comes to pass... Well, a hotdog might look pretty good.  For now, I'll try to enjoy her for what she is -- a little baby, yes, but a pretty great one.

Wyatt.

Speedy delivery....

Speedy delivery....

Molly has gotten her first piece of mail... her social security card.

Now let's get her a job and a passport.