If You Give Luke a Bath

I love Laura Numeroff's "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" series.  Here's my take on tonight's events...



If you give Luke a bath three hours early (because you want to make the evening run extra smoothly), you're going to realize you didn't do laundry and Luke has no clean pajamas. 

You'll start a load, and, meanwhile, you'll take extra time to squeaze him into the clean pajamas from the drawer of outgrown clothes.

(Daddy will come home and wonder what's going on, but that's a different story...)

You'll sit down to dinner, and Luke will decide he wants to feed himself.  He'll get refried beans, sweet potatoes, and taco meat EVERYWHERE.  You'll take off his too-tight pajamas and put on regular play clothes.

Then, while you're doing dishes, Luke will decide he wants to help, and he'll be in charge of the trash.

He'll find the package of recently expired yogurt containers that you tossed in the trash just minutes earlier.  When he finds the yogurt, he'll bite his teeth through the foil of one of the containers, and he'll walk around eating the yogurt.  (Meanwhile, you'll be cleaning up his dinner mess.)

Daddy will stop putting together the toy train that goes around the Christmas tree long enough to notice that Luke has spilled yogurt on the carpet and on the side of the couch (and, of course, on his clothes).

You'll take off Luke's clothes and let him play while you proceed to clean the carpet and the couch.

Then you'll go back into the kitchen to put away the cleaning supplies, and you'll realize you smell something funny.  You'll look up and see Luke holding his diaper.  Then you'll realize what you're smelling.

You'll scream and call out "Apprehend him!  He's got poop!" (Yep, you'll actually tell your husband to "apprehend" your child.)  You'll run to get the wipes and a new diaper.

You'll realize you're still doing laundry, see a bathing suit that you recenly pulled from the bag you didn't completely unpack on your last trip to the lake, think, "We won't need this for a while," and put it on Luke while Daddy looks for errant poop that has fallen from the diaper (paranoia much?).

Luke will be so tired of changing clothes and having all his fun spoiled that he will start to cry in utter exhuastion.

And chances are, if Luke cries out in utter exhuastion. you will realize, as you should have done hours earlier (duh!), that he'll need a bath.


(Welcome to an evening at our house!)

Our Wedding

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Post! Post! Post!

I thought when school ended in June I would become the queen of blogging.  I think I've blogged less since school has been out then ever before.  The truth is, I'm so busy chasing Luke around that I couldn't get to the computer if I wanted to.  We are having so much fun!  I feel so blessed.

Luke and I have been making the story-time circuit.  First we started with Carrollton's "Mother Goose Rhyme Time," then we picked up our favorite story time, Lewisville's "Mother Goose Time," and we recently added Frisco's "Babies and Books" (Now there's a story time--what a production Frisco has!).  Luke has a great time watching all the babies, playing under the parachutes, and, most of all, playing with the things in the room that aren't baby-proofed. 

What a hard-working mind that kid has!  I'm amazed at how quickly he can destroy a room in our house.  I've gotten several videos of him unrolling the toilet paper, and I've learned that--while it doesn't deter him--placing the roll so the paper goes "under" and not "over" makes it easier for us to come behind him and re-roll it.  He has learned that the paper goes IN the toilet, which is nice (until, I suppose, he decides to put it ALL in there).  I can't wait until he decides to correctly use the toilet, however.  He HATES having his diaper changed, and he is halfway off the changing table before I'm able to apply the next one. 

We don't seem to have a favorite food right now.  Just when I think he loves applesauce he doesn't want it anymore.  And when I've decided he doesn't want yogurt anymore he gulps it right down.  I'm sure at 8 1/2 months I'm supposed to be gently rolling out new foods for him, but this kid is not one to suffer rice cereal gladly.  We're done with the bottles.  He also doesn't want to be bothered with all the baby paraphernalia. either.  Bibs go on the floor, and if he can feed himself he's much happier.  Usually. 

Luke is also working on his social etiquette.  He's quiet around strangers, but he's very polite.  He'll smile, and he'll offer a nice, gentle pat on the arm if the occasion warrants it.  Most people comment on what an easy-going baby he is, suggesting that he just never cries.  I've noticed that he seems to be a fan of men, especially tall men, maybe because Jeff is tall.  He hasn't tried to hurt them, which I'm thankful for, especially after all those years of teaching Oedipus.  Haha!

with Cousin Jason

At home, however, he's the master of his domain, and he has no compunctions with telling us what he wants.  I have no problem obliging him.  Jeff, however, seems to take a behaviorist approach, which really aggravates me, particularly given all the research that has been done to refute its effectiveness for babies.  At any rate, Luke is learning, and I'm both putting all my master's and doctoral studies to work and learning far more than either program could ever teach me.  What a wonderful time to be alive!

Whatever Happened to the Mix Tape?!?

So I'm sitting here ripping some kids' music onto our desktop computer.  I'll eventually make a CD for Luke for the car so he can have a positive, predictable experience when we do all the driving that we do.  I feel like my NPR might be boring him (ha!), the local jazz and classical music stations have too many commercials, and I have almost had my fill of "Itsy Bitsy Spider," "The Farmer in the Dell," and "B-I-N-G-O." 

Have you heard Tom Chapin?  He's incredible.  I've found myself listening to his music without Luke in the car.  And yes, I've even carried his Great Big Fun for the Very Little One into my classroom because I knew I'd never be able to get his "State Song" out of my head. 

While I sit here ripping (a word, by the way, that was not in my lexicon 15 years ago) the CDs I am also scanning the album covers so I have them in my files on the computer.  I realize this is probably completely redundant, because all I have to do is Google them, and all the information is right there.  Better than that, as soon as Windows Media Player finishes ripping the album it will probably just appear from some magical database of album covers and be forever imprinted on our desktop computer. 

But that's not all!  After I get the last of the CDs ripped, I'll probably move them over to the fancy hard drive Jeff just got us with something like a terabyte of free space.  Terabyte?  I'm not even sure if I'm using the correct word! I realize that there is probably a better way to do this, too.  I'm probably using outdated software, hardware, or something. 

I also realize that when Luke is a teenager he'll probably just have to wiggle his nose and the music will appear in a chip in his ear.  So it all makes me feel very nostalgic for the days of the mix tape.  Remember the mix tape?  Getting a mix tape from a boy was the most obvious sign of love, and my friend Jessica and I thought we were in heaven because we could copy all of each other's cassettes on our reel-to-reel cassette stereos and have twice as much music.  I remember the day Garth Brooks' "Rodeo" single was released--my friend Audrey and I sat on the phone, next to our stereos, anxious to press "record" at just the right time to record the song on our cassettes. 

And what do we do with those cassette tapes now?  I couldn't even get my students to pay me 10 cents for the ALL George Strait mix tape that a boy made for me once.  I'm having a sale I call my "Cheaper than Gum" sale to get rid of all the stuff I don't need in my classroom, and I'm really at a loss for what to do with all the junk that is no longer useful, like the mix tape.  Did I mention that the GS mix tape was in a grab bag with a bunch of other neato stuff that no longer has a use?  Alas, will the hours of enjoyment from my teen years translate into one more thing in the overgrown landfill?  At least cassettes are some of the smallest out-of-date things we have....

And what happens when I get Luke hooked on Tom Chapin's "Cameling" song, only to watch it become obsolete in 25 years?  My sister and I recently found ourselves singing a couple of songs from our old favorite Cabbage Patch Kids album.  RECORD album.  We don't know what happened to the record, let alone the songs, and even then we decided we didn't really love the songs enough to buy a record player just to relive some old songs--and old memories.  Or do we love the songs that much?  If we didn't love them so much, wouldn't we be able to get them out of our heads?  ("Sybil Sadie... Oh Ramie... We've got to get away from Cabbage Jack and get back home and then...there'll be laughter in the cabbage patch again..."  Ahhh!  The memories!) 

Funny how, as I'm writing this, someone is already working on a way to make all of my efforts to rip this music--into a perfect mix--obsolete.  I guess I'll keep practicing my finger motions for the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" song.  :)

Just One Year

Today is April 1.  Last year Jeff and I had our first appointment with the OB to confirm my pregnancy on April 1.  Last year today Luke was the size of a blueberry.  Now he has three teeth!  It's an overused saying, I know, but we are so blessed to have Luke in our lives.

Here's the ultrasound from last year:

And here's a picture of Jeff and Luke having a little father-son bonding time a couple of days ago:

Some thoughts on it all...

• By now Luke and I have almost gained the same number of pounds in the past year.  At his four-month checkup he weighed in at 15 lb., 1 oz.  He was 8 lb., 1 oz. at birth.  I gained 18 pounds with my pregnancy.  Fortunately, he's the only one of us who's nearly doubled his weight in the last few months. 
• Really?  Luke was the size of a blueberry this time last year??!?  Crazy!
• My friend Zahera's little boy is due next week already.  What's weird is that when I talked to her earlier tonight I could hardly recall all the horrible pain and discomfort I was feeling the week before Luke arrived.  The swelling, the inability to walk, etc....I don't even remember!
• Except I have been feeling very nauseous lately.  And NO, I'm not pregnant!  But about this time last year I was grossed out by everything--even water!  The foods that made me want to gag last year are making me want to gag again lately.  Of course, I'm not sure if I'm really nauseous or if I'm just remembering being nauseous.  Gross!!
• Last year at this time the Schwertner family was anxiously awaiting the arrival of beautiful little Bella, and nobody else.  Now we have Bella and Luke, and Aunt Becky's baby is on the way. 
• Last year at this time we hadn't even run into Suzanne and her mom at Babies R Us to discover that she and Matt were also expecting--now babies Sarah and Kevin are six weeks old!
• Everything about being parents to Luke has been more fun than Jeff and I could have imagined.  I am happy that Jeff and I were able to travel, develop a strong marriage, and make money, and I'm happy I was able to get all my doctoral coursework out of the way and have eight uncomplicated years of teaching; however, I'm now really starting to wonder why we waited so long to become parents. 
• I am so in love with both of my guys.  I love my little family!

Our Wedding (June 7, 2003 -- Time sure flies!)

This Smilebox is just too fun not to share.  :)

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Luke's Baptism

Thank you for thinking of us, praying for us, and joining us as we celebrated Luke's baptism!

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Luke's First 100 Days

It's so hard to believe Luke is already 100 days old!  Please walk with us down memory lane... (Make sure your sound is on!)

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My PPD: The Un-fun Part of Being a New Mom

I knew it would be difficult to go back to work and leave Luke for the first time. Every mom finds it difficult, right? So I enlisted my mother to take care of him for my first week back. After all, I had first-hand references of her work, and I was confident that he would get more love and attention than he knew what to do with.

The problem, however, started for me two days into my return to work. My principal coldly denied my request to take a later lunch so I could best pump my breast milk. Though it was likely just lack of consideration on his part, I felt threatened. My emotional and physiological needs weren’t being met, and that made me feel like I wasn’t doing all I could to provide for my baby. I called Jeff crying so hard all he could do was listen to me wail on the phone and try to offer condolences through my sobs.

The crying continued. First I just called Jeff the next day at school during my conference period. Then I began to call him on my way home. Anytime there weren’t others around, I cried. And I called Jeff, because he has always known exactly what to say. Soon, however, I wasn’t afraid to hide my crying. And the next thing I knew, I woke myself up crying in the middle of the night.

I also wasn’t sleeping in the middle of the night. Luke was, but I wasn’t. Awake for long periods of time, all I could do was obsess about how the principals made me feel threatened at work. I still couldn’t stop crying. I wanted to turn in my resignation. I didn’t care about burning the bridge that I had crossed for eight wonderful years. I just didn’t care. I was in pain. I wanted the pain to go away.

It was during one of the long periods of middle-of-the-night wakefulness that I began to wonder if I was experiencing postpartum depression (PPD). I had truthfully expected to experience it, because I wasn’t new to depression. I began to take meds in 2002, after many years of feeling depression, anxiety, and loneliness. I had switched my pills during pregnancy, and then I had decided I would embrace the pregnancy hormones and try to deal with whatever happened, because I wanted one less thing to encumber the baby. There is a family history of depression, however, and it has been hard for me to fight against it. I also had a C-section, which tends to increase the occurrence of PPD.

The next day I called to make an appointment with my doctor to discuss my options. Unfortunately, when I got to the daycare to pick Luke up he was alone in his crib, sobbing, and he was overheated. He couldn’t be heard over the other crying babies in the room, and it broke my heart. I picked him up and held him tightly as I fed him his bottle. He didn’t stop crying. This made me cry more than I had cried before. I had already had horrible delusions that the daycare just couldn’t take good care of him, and I was beginning to feel like I had been correct. I cried the entire way to the doctor’s office. I cried in the doctor’s office.

When the doctor asked me if I wanted to go on disability I felt at that point that I had no choice. She doubled my medication and told me I could be off as long as I liked. All I could think about was getting out of the threatening environment of work and staying home to get better. I didn’t think about the fun I would have with my son. I thought only of trying to get better. I worried that my lack of joy would become apparent to Luke. I worried that I wouldn’t be a good enough wife to Jeff.

I was living in the ultimate paradox. I couldn’t sleep, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I wanted to play with my son, but I couldn’t smile. I wanted to go to work, but I couldn’t leave the house. I was starving—both literally and figuratively—but I couldn’t eat.

The interesting thing about depression is it doesn’t always manifest itself to others. When people asked how I was doing I couldn’t say how I really felt, because I was afraid I would start crying. Plus, I’ve been working on keeping up my outward appearances since I was in the tenth grade and my friend told me I looked grumpy walking through the halls.

It’s also very awkward. What do you say to someone with PPD? And who volunteers that information? I excitedly made my out-of-office e-mail reply when I was out on maternity leave, but I didn’t make one for this. It just didn’t feel right.

So right now it’s a day-by-day chore to get better. Each day is a little better, too. It’s weird that joy can be so elusive. But it’s wonderful that joy does exist.