Great, Great, Great...

I grew up knowing both of my great-grandmothers. It was pretty awesome to be honest.

Both were pretty nifty people.

To us she was Grandma Sallye.
Her real name Ila Verne "Sallye" Franks.
She was quite the lady let me tell you. One of the coolest people I have ever known.
Born in 1914, she grew up playing the piano, and continued to do so her entire life; later teaching her kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids including myself.
Growing up in Emerson, graduating high school, she then attended what is now Southern Arkansas University studying music if I remember right.
Fun Fact: in those days it was majorly against the rules for girls to ride in cars with boys at the university. 
Well guess who got caught?
Bingo. 

The punishment? Suspension.
Yep, Sallye was a bonified rebel.

Not really. 
Growing up with Grandma Sallye, the tradition was soup and pie on Saturdays along with soft peppermints from the candy jar, and Heaven help you if you didn't eat all the veggies in your bowl. Picky eaters weren't tolerated whatsoever. How do you think I learned to stomach green beans or onions? Nonetheless vegetables of that nature at all. 

*anything of the bean family or with a tomatoey relation- I'm out. 

Grandma Sallye was the accomplished musician. Among other wonderful qualities she was kind hearted, loved sports of all kinds from football to horse racing, opinionated and vocal about said opinions, and my favorite- bold and strong-willed. 

The stories could go on for days, but we can save some for later.  

Next. 
We called her Grandma Johnson.
Johnson being her last name. Juanita her first. Nancy her nickname.

Born in 1907, she lived to be 97 years old.
Needless to say, she lived to experience and see it all.
The normal routine for visiting Grandma Johnson was to go through the carport door, enter the laundry area and on to the kitchen where she greeted us with old fashioned stick candy. That was the trademark of her hospitality. The kind that came in atleast 50 flavors and wrapped in tight plastic that you could never get all the way off and ended up eating half the time.
After you got to pick out your candy, you could sit and visit.
She also had a little black poodle named Annie and a sweet woman we know as Willie B that sat with her in her old age.
I can remember loving Willie B as my "Black Grandma" as she called herself for years and years and years.
She always sent us kids birthday cards as if we were her own and everything always signing them "Love, your Black Grandma."
Honestly, in my opinion- the more grandmas the more better. Who could argue with more love and affection.

Grandma Johnson passed away when I was in the 5th grade. She lived a long luxurious life and left my cousin and I some pretty wonderful things such as our engagement rings. When we each became of age and had a serious man in our lives, our Memaw gave us each a matching diamond from a ring that Grandma Johnson had made for herself atleast 30 years ago. The ring had 2 identical diamonds on each end with swirls of baguettes inbetween.  We each got to use a stone I thought I would merely dream about for our own engagement rings, and it's something we'll each treasure forever. 

On another note, Grandma Johnson was a woman after my own heart. The bigger, gaudier,  glitterier, sparklier, shinier... The better. Absolutely. And again, the stories could go on and on, but we'll save some for later. 

I love that we'll get to tell Piper the elaborate stories about her great-greats and other family members and I also love that Piper will get to grow up knowing and loving her own great-grandparents as I did and we'll be able to tell her all about her others. 

After all, she has some of the best great-grandparents in my opinion, but I am a little partial.

Snow Day!

Today we had a forizzle snow day. 

South Arkansas had REAL snow. Not ice, not sleet, real fluffy, light snow. 

In saying that, yesterday and the day before we had slight iceage. Slightly enough to close schools since Monday morning. 

We are currently going on "snow day" number 4 as of tomorrow. 

Tomorrow the amount of slush that melted this afternoon will refreeze overnight creating more ice on the roads. 

Am I complaining? Not a bit. 

Did we take advantage of the 4 inches of snow? 

Absolutely. 

My husband and brother-in-law had quite the afternoon building these beauties. 

To put it in perspective...

The fuzzy headed one is almost 7ft tall. After building those, my brother-in-law tried his hand at building an igloo. We won't go there though. 

It's been years since I have seen a REAL snow day. This rare occasion of blankets of snow is one in a million. Good grief, to me almost a miracle occurrence in our area. 5 days ago I was in shorts on a 60 degree day in February. 

So it was Piper's first snow day and our first real snow day married. 

**disclaimer: there was a "snow day" almost a year ago but it was nor REAL SNOW. 

She thoroughly enjoyed it...

And to sum it up, it was fabulous.

 Check out our homefront. 

The Big Question

The most asked question as of now is "how did you lose the baby weight so fast?!"

The answer: I had a baby. 

Just kidding, but also very true. I left the hospital 18lbs lighter. Booyah. 

I only gained a total 24lbs my entire pregnancy, would have been 26 but I lost weight my last couple weeks. 

How? I ate nothing but organic greens, protein shakes, and drank water. 

And then lightening struck after I typed that. 

Absolutely not. 

Let me explain...

The month before I knew I was pregnant, we ate Pizza Hut stuffed crust pizza at least twice a week. I wanted nothing to do with meat. 

Then all I wanted were noodles. Spaghetti, macaroni, anything with noodles. I was in. 

Then it turned into crazy 1am cravings of my mother in law's chili. In the middle of June. She graciously made me an entire batch that I froze and continued to eat on. 

Then the crave of vegetables smothered with butter which turned into wanting hibachi chicken and fried rice with a lava flow of yum yum sauce. I could easily finish off my entire entree, all the grilled veggies, and then whatever was left on my eating partner's plate. 

From there I still had a fried food aversion. Exception: McDonald's chicken nuggets with BBQ sauce. 

I drank cokes like they were going out of style along with grape soda over ice cream. 

Lastly, as stated before, I LOVE Cancun. The last trimester it was the go to meal. Along with Taco Bell. I could eat 8 tortillas with my fajitas, large queso, and salsa. Yea. Probably not the best idea, but that last week I was bound and determined to send myself into labor. What better way than spicy food?

But let's back track. 

So after a month or so into knowing I was pregnant, the reflux hit. Like a storm. On planet Mars. The kind that last for years supposedly. I thought I would never know relief. No matter how many tums, equate brand, pepcids, you name it- my chest would be on fire with flames leaping into my throat singing the back of my teeth. 

It didn't matter what I ate. 

I then developed the strange taste for ice cream and Popsicles and of all things.... Milk. Just FYI, I hate milk with a passion or I did. The thought of drinking it made me gag, but those were the only things that would relieve the fire in the chest. So what did I do?

The last trimester I would eat a hot fudge sundae for lunch, my "real lunch" later in the afternoon, and then after supper I would pop my pepcids for good measure then eat 1-2 Popsicles. Aroound midnight I would begin the routine of getting up almost every 2-3 hours to get up to drink chocolate milk. Then the farther along I got. The more milk I drank. The last week I drank almost 2 gallons by myself. The crazy thing? The day before I had Piper we didn't go to church in fear of going into labor in the middle of the sermon. No one wants their water to break on a church pew. Gross. So Andy graciously went to the little grocery store down the road to get me a gallon of milk since I had almost finished off the one one the fridge. 

I couldn't make it very long those last few days without chocolate milk for my reflux and heartburn. 

So he bought the gallon of milk that Sunday. 

I finished off the one already in the fridge that night. 

The next 3 days we spent in the hospital. 

That gallon of milk stayed in the fridge. Unopened. For 2 weeks. 

No pregnant. No reflux. No milk. Definitely no ice cream. 

So there you have it. That 24-26lbs was by no means a product of clean eating or majorly healthy choices. 

My favorite piece of advice:

Eat what you crave, stop when you're full, and drink lots of liquids.

Best advice ever. 

 So how did I lose the rest and more? 

Plexus. 

No lie. I love that stuff. So much I'm an ambassador to sell it. The pink drink is what got me through the first 2 weeks of the newborn life. 

I had more energy, felt more rested, and shed some more lbs. 

2 months postpartum and I was back in my normal jeans, and weighed less than the day I found out I was pregnant. 

Don't knock it til you try it folks. My only mistake was I didn't try it sooner. 

The Truth Part 3

I'm generally one extreme or another. No inbetweens. I either want a real coke or water. I either want a steaming hot bubble bath or an icy cold pool. I either stay up late or go to bed ridiculously early if husband is on day shift. You get the jist?

I'm not one who sees grey areas. It's either yes or no. Good or bad. I either like it or I don't. I may be laid back, but in all honesty I'm a very picky person. The short version... I'm a big weirdo. Which leads to my thought processes. 

It's a chaotic mess of a masterpiece, the way my mind works that is. 

For example, ever heard of a studio art major turned math education? 

Me either. Then I became "one of them. "

Insert deep thundering... 

Dun Dun Duuuuuuuuuu!

I am the one who walks into the room, and the rest of the class looks at me like "why are you here?"

The same as you fine people. To get my degree and join the work force among that of the American educators.

So what? No I'm not your typical mathematics major. 

Apparently it's not the norm for one to doodle or sketch in the margins of notes in this field of study. 

Or try out different font styles when writing notes. 

Yes. Weirdo. I hold the title well. 

I eat ketchup on my eggs. 

I have anything from the latest Taylor Swift album to 90's pop NSYNC and Aaron Carter to Brookelyn Tab on my itunes. 

Riverdance. Love it.

Leopard print all the stuff!

Chicken Express ice is my favorite. 

Grape soda over ice cream. 

Raw cake batter. No raw eggs don't scare me and haven't killed me yet. 

Abstract Algebra is becoming my favorite. 

I am obsessed with my 2 dogs. Obviously. 

I hate cats with a passion. 

Lastly...

I first learned to play the piano on a Steinway grand piano. 

I may not think or process thoughts the way the rest of the world does, nor do I share alot of the same beliefs or agree on the current issues. 

I'm just content with being my weird self and living this fabulous life. 

Oops: The Prequel

I am that .01%
That's right. You read that correctly.

I am that .01% that you read about on the back of the BC package.
In fact, my picture should probably be on the back along with that little tidbit of information.
Also, my mother used that tidbit to announce to her school that she was going to be a grandma.

She thought it was funny... I obviously didn't. We'll return to this part of the story later

When I say my child is a miracle, I mean she's a miracle. She must have some amazing purpose in this world, other than being just flat amazing in general, because I was taking precautions NOT to get pregnant, and before anyone wants to question my thoughts or opinions- NO I was not on a birth control pill that would discontinue a pregnancy in the event I did become pregnant on the pill (obviously...).

It was a Thursday. The last Thursday in April to be exact.
I was in line to actually have my prescription refilled, but had somewhat of an epiphany while waiting to be called.
Something told me I had better hold off on getting my prescription. Take a wild guess why don't ya?

I left the pharmacy early that morning and made my rounds through town going as unnoticed as possible. I circled the feminine product aisle for 15 min at WalMart due to the fact I saw at least fifty people I knew around every corner. How would I explain why I was looking at pregnancy tests? And Heaven forbid someone see me and tell someone who tells the whole town. 

So I bought my tests and booked it to my hidey hole to take them. I took my first one earlier that morning. Let me tell you, it was the longest 2 minutes of my life, but it came up positive. I thought it was faulty because the second pink line was so faint. After reading the directions and informative pamphlet, I learned it's supposed to be like that. From there I wasn't sure what to think. Everything felt like a blur that day. Finally after taking my 7th test late that afternoon (it turned positive within seconds), I called the doctor to get an appointment. 

Yes. I took 7 pregnancy tests. The digital one came up 'Pregnant 4+ weeks' within a few seconds.

While on the phone with the receptionist she informed me my insurance wouldn't allow me an appointment until August for my check up.  I then informed her I thought I might be pregnant! and she asked what made me think so. 

Well as of now I'm 7 for 7 ma'am. 

She laughed and asked why on earth I took so many in which I responded,"I wanted to be sure."

She laughed some more and asked the usual questions to figure out how far along I was. In my mind I thought maybe a month since the weeks estimater said 4+. Wrong. 

Ten weeks. Ten weeks pregnant and I hadn't had any idea. 

Well within a day or so, it was obvious and it was hard to hide. The sight of food made me nauseous. All day. Every day from that point forward. I couldn't go long without running to the nearest restroom and I was popping lemonheads like nobody's business to suppress the horrible feeling. 

A couple weeks later on May 21st I went to El Dorado to await the most wonderful words I had ever heard. 

That afternoon at 12:40 my doctor came in, did her usual checks, and said her soon to be familiar line. "Let's listen. " 

Right around my belly button, the Doppler picked up that quick, fluttery beating. I thought it was the best day of my life.

So there you have it. I'm the poster child for that .01% and I'm quite content with it. Who am I kidding? I'm more than content with it. Ecstatic really. 

So back to the part of my mother making her GRAND announcement. 

 When I got to Mom's school, we went room to room with a little piece of paper that said the following: 

"My daughter is very talented, there's not much she can't do, but when it comes to taking pills she tends to forget a few" 

Grandma 2 Bee

Yea. She thought she was being cute, but no I didn't skip pills. 

So there we have it. Piper was a surprise. Tada! 

How I Met Your Father

Recently I have found myself watching television at odd hours of the night... Shows I wouldn't normally watch because I'm normally sleeping because I have a 2 month old who I constantly peer over the pack n play at around 3 am. 

Background information: we sleep with the tv on. I don't like silence-it creeps me out. For those who ask me all the time how I work in such aloud environment at KDAS, it's all I know and I love it. It's also easier for me to sleep with noise. There you have it.

To get technical, we sleep with it on Nick at Night. The popular shows on late night television for this particular channel are "Everybody Loves Raymond," "George Lopez," and "How I Met Your Mother."

The third one is somewhat interesting in that it takes the viewer into the long drawn out story of how the character meets his wife, but in the perspective of telling his kids how he met their mother. Which made me think, how will I tell Piper one day how I met her father? Hmmmm...

We'll give it a go shall we? 

I have known my now in laws since I can remember. My brother-in-law was always in my circle of friends. I can remember in the 4th grade riding with him in my momma-in-law's car to an end of the school year pool party a bunch of us were going to. 

My father-in-law was my middle school and jr. high principal. I was the child who was always hit in the head by a basketball or some flying object so he would check for signs of a concussion.

Fast forward a few years. 

My family joined First Baptist Church and I was convinced to join their youth choir. I told you we would discuss this later. Jesse and Andy and their family were also members of the church and they were members of the choir. My first year of choir (7th grade) I was baptized-both were there and unknowingly so were my future in laws. Pretty cool. 

The next year was Andy's senior year. His last choir tour. My 8th grade year and second tour. 

He played a cool part in a skit for that year's performance and as a "joke" everyone wanted a picture with him and the other partner in the skit. I took my picture with him, unknowingly with my future husband. I kept the picture framed in my bedroom from that summer on. Never thinking anything about it until years later. 

Fast forward to my senior year. Jesse and I had stayed good buddies and friends through our school years and he asked if I would walk with him in our senior homecoming court-duh of course I would. 

Background information: At our high school the senior football players ask a girl to "walk." The girls chosen make up the homecoming royalty, and from there they vote on honor. Aids for each grade and a senior for queen. 

My husband watched me walk unknowingly with my future brother in law on homecoming court. Homecoming maids are required to wear white. I never dreamed he would see me wear white one more time. 

That same year Jesse and I graduated class of 2010. Andy of course was there to see his brother graduate, but he also saw me. The crazy coinky dink... Our families sat together at the ceremony. 

A few weeks later we went on our senior choir tour with the church. Our last one to a random circle of cities. 

Andy and I started our random text conversation the Wednesday of choir tour. By Friday I was antsy. I wanted to be home and see this fella for myself. I thought he was nuts. He couldn't have any sort of interest in me. We'll apparently I was wrong or I wouldn't be wearing a wedding band. 

I remember it well. As soon as we were done with our last performance at our home church, I came down from the choir loft, walked straight to his 6'5 figure in the very back, smiled, and told him to "hold my shoes."  FYI, I'm 5'3, 5'4 on a good day. He looked real cute holding my 4" Jessica Simpson peep toe pumps while I gathered my luggage. 

From there we went in my mom's car to take my brother to a pool party and then on we went to what I call our first date- medium cokes at McDonald's while sitting at the barstools. I remember sitting and swinging my legs back and forth like a 2 yr old on a sugar high I was so giddy. 

From there we became best friends and of course from there (shortly) we were classified as official and from there we decided to seal the deal. 

So there you have it Piper, I met your daddy on my 8th grade year of choir tour with a picture to prove it. 

Off to See the Wizard

I love the Wizard of Oz.

Love might be an understatement...obsessive maybe?

Correction... Obsessive is the understatement. 

It all started when I was little. My Gege (grandmother) and I would watch movies all the time. The first time she introduced me to The Wizard of Oz, I hid behind the couch when the witch appeared. 

From then on I was smitten with those ruby slippers. 

Then my love for the movie really grew when I was in the 6th grade. I was a part of the gifted and talented program in which we did a project fair every year. My project that year was about Judy Garland- the star of my favorite movie. THE Dorothy. That project led me to research the background of the movie and the book. The quirky facts, myths, and casting. Yup. Quiz me. 

I'm the weirdo that knows that the actress who portrayed Ms. Gulch and the Wicked Witch of the West was actually a kindergarten teacher in her original career path.

I'm the weirdo that knows that the iconic "Over the Rainbow" was not supposed to be in the movie. 

Yup. It's my thing. 

My 7th grade year in youth choir (we'll discuss that next) we went to Washington, D.C. And we were allowed to tour the Smithsonian. What life goal did I accomplish of course? Seeing THE ruby slippers. 

Omg. I almost cried I was so excited. 

My senior trip was one of a solo (except for my family friend of a chaperone) expedition to NYC. My fabulous graduation gift from said chaperone was a ticket to see Wicked on Broadway.

I sang every song with the cast. The poor people who sat in front of me...

Fast forward 3 years... Andy and I are engaged.  What do I do as soon as we have a wedding date?

Order my replica ruby slippers to walk down the aisle in. 

What does Karen surprise me with? Garters... Made of the blue and white gingham fabric and decorated with a ruby slipper charm. 

My other boss from my retail job hosted my bridesmaid luncheon. What were our party favors? 

Sugar cookies... In the shape of ruby slippers decorated with red sugar. 

Yes. It's an obvious thing about me so it was no surprise I decorated Piper's room in ruby, black, and white. No it's not plastered with posters, but there are a quote or 2 hanging along with bows, glitter, and a light up picture of the emerald city. 

It's my quirk if you will. Everyone has one.

 

Yup. Those are my wedding shoes. 

Oops Part 2

For those who don't know me personally, just some more background information. 

I am a workaholic. 

I have worked 2, technically 3 jobs if you count my painting on the side for almost 4 years now while going to school.

I worked in a retail position for 3 years which I then switched to the same family's machine shop into an office position when I became pregnant so I could stay off my feet and have a more flexible schedule due to my horrendous "morning" sickness that tended to stick around all day and night. They have graciously allowed me to work for them with conditions of being able to come and go as I need to. I never dreamed I could be able to do so and work in such a fun office environment, nor did I ever think I would ever in my life know so much about PO's, using a typewriter, handling part orders, or burn off ovens. 

I also have worked for the local dance studio for the past 4 years which I call family. The owners are 2 sisters that have taken me in and helped me grow as a person more than you could ever know. I was hired on as the studio assistant- running errands, filing things, working odd jobs, subbing classes, making props and float decorations, and of course helping with recital every year then moved into being the secretary. This is going on my 3rd year as secretary at the same studio, and I love it. I love my dance kids and parents to the moon and back. 

That Monday I slept in and did not go into the machine shop to work as I normally would between classes. It was my doctor day, and the Monday of semester test week so there was NO CLASS. I worked on study guides that morning before fixing tomato soup and grilled cheeses for our lunch before I got ready to leave for El Dorado. I also had my bag of snacks packed for my afternoon of work at the dance studio when I returned from my appointment. I had every intention of going to work that day, but one of the helpful dance moms was always on "stand by" in case I were to go into labor and she would take over the desk. 

Needless to say, when I woke up in my hospital room and partially realized what was going on, I had a panic moment- Karen and Emily don't know I'm here and no one is working the desk. Holy moly you would've thought the world was coming to an end. 

I asked for my cell phone and quicky texted Karen telling her I was in my hospital room and recovering from a c-section.

She thought I was playing a sick joke. 

After explaining what happened, I swore her to secrecy until I could confirm all my family had been alerted to the birth of their grandchild, niece, cousin, etc. because I had no idea at that time who all knew that I had had the baby. 

After finding out that the family all knew, I texted her to tell her to let our dance family know they would be getting a new member. They were all so excited I had a little girl, and were tickled to add to the KDAS family. 

In between all that, I texted my other boss lady who couldn't have been more excited that Piper had arrived. She and my other bosses at the machine shop couldn't have been more helpful. Not only did they check on me and always offer their services to help in anyway possible, they allowed me to come back to my part time position under the same condition that I could be in and out when I needed to be AND allow me to just bring Piper to work with me. 

Needless to say, I couldn't ask for better bosses or better jobs. I love working with people and with kids so I get the best of both worlds. 

Oh and yes I did take my semester tests that very week. I came home from the hospital on a Wednesday and took all 3 exams back to back to back that Friday. 

Boo yah. 

So then...

After Andy arrived to the hospital, the nurse did just like she said and took him straight to Piper in the nursery. He actually got to be the first to put a pacifier in her mouth. After he got in there and saw her, he texted his mom letting her know "Our baby girl is here."

Immediately following, there was a response.
A panicked and confused response of...
"WHAT?"
"EXPLAIN?"
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

He looked at the nurse; "I should probably make some phone calls."

He never realized that I didn't have time to call anyone else but him.

He called his mom who then called my mom.

Come to find out, my mom was in the check out line at Walmart visiting with folks.
"She had an appointment at 1:20pm and she hasn't even texted me back."
"Watch, they're probably off having a baby without me."
"blah ba blah...."

She then got to her car to find missed calls and texts from Andy's mom that we've had a baby and to head to Eldo.

My mother proceeded to call my dad who then met up with her to speed on to the hospital. They then called all the grandparents who also proceeded to fall in line to head East.

After tracking down my mom, it was a challenge to find my father-in-law on the bus route he was covering to who knows where. After tracking him down, they promptly headed to meet their grandbaby. 

Needless to say, they were all in quite the panic I believe. At that point all anyone knew was that I had a c-section. No one knew for what reason except for it was an emergency, but at that moment all was right with the world. Baby girl was here and healthy, and I was in no pain thanks to my nifty little button. 

Oops

So I forgot a vital part of the story...

Rewind to the part where I was told to call my husband, we have to get the baby out now.

Background info: My dear husband is a farmer at heart- that's one of my favorite things about him. A lot of wonderful qualities are built in to a farmer's heart and mind. He and his family have cows- I love those cows, they're the kind you can walk right up to and pet. Some of his calves have even walked right up to him and started fiddling through his overall pockets looking for snacks.

Anyways...

Andy was working cows that Monday. Needless to say, when I texted to tell him I was headed to be monitored, he headed home to change and clean up just in case. He said by the time I called to tell him to come to El Dorado, he had changed out of his farm clothes and was about to get back in his truck. 

Background information: It takes almost an hour to get to El Dorado from where we live. 

As soon as I said to come on, he was on the highway headed that way. He said he fell in line with the trash trucks and weaved in and out going as fast as he could to get there. 

Remember the nurse took my phone as soon as I ended the call and was being run down the hallway to the OR?

When my husband got almost halfway there (in a matter of minutes we wonmt discuss) he received another call. The head nurse who had so graciously been taking such wonderful care of me went back to find my cell phone to call Andy and let him know that the baby was alive, well, and headed to the nursery, and that I was being put back together and I was alive and well. She told him she would come meet him when he got there and take him straight to Piper. She also informed him he could slow his roll and go a normal speed since we were all ok. He quickly informed her, " No ma'am, I have to lay eyes on my girls."

The Great Debate

Recently Similac formula company released a new commercial that I absolutely love. It is titled "We Are All Moms." LOVE IT. If you are pregnant or a new mom- get the tissues.

In the video you see all the different types of moms ( and dads)- the all organic, breastfeeders, bottle feeders, working moms, the SAH moms, the SAH dads, etc.. Every kind of belief and ideal a mom or dad could have- it's in there.

I'll be the first to admit- everyone has their own "mom style" and set of beliefs in how they want to raise or parent their kiddos, but first things first- we share the fact that we are a mom no matter how we think.

Just because our "mom style" is different than another's doesn't mean it is wrong (unless you're breaking laws of course). It may be strange or not what we would do if it were us, but to each his own. What's best for you is probably not what's best for me or my neighbor.

For example, I did not want to breastfeed. Sue me.
I did not want to risk not being able to feed my child between work and school nor being able to pump at appropriate times to have enough stored as our family graciously took turns watching her while I bounced between activities.
Most people have frowned upon it when I've been honest.
Again, sue me. Although, I later found out I would not have been capable of breastfeeding in the first place, so the argument is invalid.
If you breastfeed or did previously, even for a week or a day or atleast attempted- kudos to you my friend, but it was not for me.

Also, I went right back to work 4 weeks after Piper was born, and back to school 4.5 weeks later. I worked up until the day I went in for my 39 week check-up/C-section. I was not accustomed to taking a day off, therefore being home and being told to relax for the next 4 weeks was a bizarre feeling. I am not good at just "relaxing." I'm not quite sure I could survive being a SAH mom- if you are, kudos kudos kudos to YOU. I couldn't do it; it would drive me absolutely bonkers.

At the end of the video, the stroller of one mom begins to roll down the hill towards a tragic ending. All the moms and dads then band together to stop the stroller and realize that even though their visions of motherhood and childcare may be opposing or slightly different, they're all the same- they're moms (and dads) above anything else.

I may not have swaddled my newborn, breastfed, had a normal or nonetheless natural childbirth, and I may not boil the pacifiers every time one drops on the floor, but I'm now a mom and this is how I roll.

Bringing Baby Home

To continue the saga of Piper's grand entrance into this world...

When we arrived home that Wednesday afternoon, we were greet by our sweet furbabies who were quite confused why we had not been home the past 2 nights.

It was kind of eerie actually. The house was just as I left it that Monday at 12:30ish. There were dishes in the sink, clothes to be put away, towels needing washing, etc..

Now we were adding to our household a newborn- a life of diapers, pacifier hoarding, Gerber formula, and bottle washing.

Life was great! Seriously though, who knew how much fun hand washing bottles and all their parts would be so fun. To answer the question- no I did not and do not breastfeed and I'm cool with it. Kudos and more power to those who do!

The dogs did not even realize we had an extra human when we came home until she made a noise in her car seat. We had put her on the table when we walked in so I could sit down for a minute in a sturdy backed chair- I was more comfortable sitting in a wooden kitchen chair than on the couch or recliner. Go figure.

Piper on the other hand was more comfortable in her MamaRoo. BEST INVENTION EVER! New moms- it is worth every penny. It does all the rocking, swinging, bouncy motions and has a built in noise machine and speaker you can hook your iphone, ipad, ipod, i-whatever into and play while baby rocks or swings or bounces. For babies who like to move trying to sleep- excellent. Instead of having 4 different bouncy, swingy, rocky thingies around the house we have the all in one magic machine we keep in the living room.

The first week Andy and I camped out with Miss Priss in the living room due to the fact I was incapable of climbing into our bed that happens to be almost 3.5 feet off the ground. The ongoing joke in the house was I needed to use Emmie's doggy steps to climb into my own bed. Anyways, we each had our own couch, Piper in her Mamaroo, and Emmie and Ellie slept wherever they could watch Piper best.

It was a science to strategically get myself off the couch and standing up on my own so that I could fix her a bottle about every 2-3 hours that first week. First I rolled on my side, then pushed off my right elbow at an angle, sat up, and rocked backwards until I had enough leverage to heave ho up onto my feet. Yes, Andy always volunteered to do anything I needed so I didn't have to get up, but I wanted to be able to get up and do things. I took to heart the advice I was given for a speedy recovery- the more you move the better you'll be. I walked laps around our kitchen island sometimes to keep my sanity. Did you know that for 6 weeks you're not supposed to lift anything heavier than your baby, push, pull, do laundry, bend over, or take a bath- you can only shower. The first 2 weeks you can't drive unless you have been off your pain medication for atleast 3 days. Another word of advice- NEVER EVER EVER wait until you are desperate for pain relief to take your medicine. Once you feel discomfort take your meds, your abdomen will thank you later.

After the first week, I attempted to climb what felt like Mount Everest and succeeded. I could finally sleep in my own bed, and boy was wonderful. I used the same technique to get up and tend to Piper at night, only this time she was 2 feet away as she slept in the basinet of her pack and play. She was a perfect newborn. Slept 2-3 hours at a time, drank 2 oz every 2-3 hours, and always went right back to sleep. Never fussed, whined, or let out a cry unless she was hungry or needed a diaper change.

As she grew, so did her appetite. We increased to 2.5, then 3, then 4 oz of formula to now 4 oz of formula every 3-4 hours, and at night 4 oz of formula paired with rice cereal. After her cereal and bottle, bath time, and a few snuggles, sweet baby sleeps til 3:30 am in which she then needs a diaper change, goes back to sleep, and wakes up at 5am for a bottle, and then we start all over again.

Let me back up. We started rice cereal about 3 weeks ago because of the fact my baby was hangry- not hungry- hangry. She became angry if her appetite was not satisfied in a reasonable amount of time. 4 oz every few hours was just not doing it anymore, so we added a little cereal and it was like magic. The child was content and began sleeping sounder at night. Now yes, some believe "babies can't eat off a spoon til their 4-5 months of age." For those that do, we'll just say my child is in AP. She can down that cereal off a spoon in around 15 minutes. Knocks out that 4 oz of formula in around 8.

We take our meals seriously around here folks.

Piper is 2 months old!

Today our baby girl is 2 months old.

Today the tiny 7lb 10 oz 18.5in long newborn that we referred to as a baby burrito is now 11lbs 12oz 24in long. She's grown 4lbs and 5.5in in 2 months-holy cow! 

She loves to...

snuggle with her daddy and grandparents, 

play piano with momma,

hold tight to her cow lovey, 

eat rice cereal and drink Gerber formula, 

watch Food Network,

go to work with momma, 

ride in the car,

help work cows,

talk up a storm,

AND hold her head up high and strong. 

She is not a fan of burping, baths, pacifiers-very picky about which ones she likes and when she might want one, being buckled in or held down in anyway, mani/pedi time, or having anything on her feet. 

2 months young and already bursting with personality. She tends to stick out her tongue at people and make some awful faces all the while studying every little thing in the room.  

The Truth Part 1

The truth is I knew the whole time that I was having a girl. 

It was hard not to burst with excitement I would get my little ballerina baby to all the dance moms.
I loved decorating her room with glitter and ruffles and Wizard of Oz.
I had the best time keeping it a secret. Who would have thought there would be a Hurley girl? HA! Fooled you all.

Also, it is true that I made up a fake boy name to tell people. HA HA
Take that.

In addition, it is true that I cropped out the ruby red glitter bows and black tutu crib skirt in the pictures of the nursery I put on instagram and Facebook. Along with the Wicked Witch leg lamp.
 HA HA HA

Along with the crochet baby booties made to look like Dorothy's blue socks and ruby slippers AND the crochet Dorothy lovey doll that a classmate surprised me with the month before I had Piper.

It is also true that we did not ever have a name set in stone until basically the day I had her. Yup. Parents of the year right there. On the other hand, our baby girl is indeed a Piper. She has quite the set of pipes which I have read is a typical nickname of those named Piper. I'm cool with it. It's better than "Hannah Banana" or "Hannah Montana." Spare me the rest if you don't mind.

The only nickname I have stuck with is Hannah Belle. My daddy calls me that to this day, and my Poppa calls me "Puddin." Again, I'm 22 years old and am perfectly content with it and wouldn't change it for the world.

Another truth is my newfound addiction to pedicures and a fresh manicure. There was no better thing while pregnant than getting a good pedicure and sitting in a massage chair for 45 minutes. My swollen ankles thanked me and I'm sure my nurses appreciated my perfectly maintained toesies while I was in the hospital. They were quite lovely with my red glitter polish.

Lastly, I had/have an addiction to Cancun Mexican Restaurante. I grew my child on Mexican food, coke, ice cream, and chocolate milk. A little insight- before I was pregnant you couldn't pay me to drink milk, and ice cream made my stomach hurt. My last trimester I ate Cancun atleast once a week along with a hot fudge sundae for lunch accompanied by a gallon of chocolate milk lasting 3-4 days. The week before Piper arrived I think we ate Cancun 4 times actually.

For real the last truth... I gained 24 lbs my entire pregnancy. The last month I actually lost 2.5 lbs so that brings a grand total of 26.5 lbs. I left the hospital on December 10th a total of 18 lbs lighter.

2 Dogs and a Baby

I remember a popular movie title called 3 Men and a Baby, or maybe it was 2 Men...I don't remember just exactly, but I do know 2 Dogs and Baby should be the title of our life or maybe just 3 Babies.

I got Ellie, my first furbaby, in October 2011. I called the lovely woman I found on puppyfind.com and asked all the right questions, received the right answers, and the puppy was the right price. I had always wanted a silky terrier since I started house sitting for a family friend. They had a little silky and I immediately fell in love with the breed.

Ellie was my baby, my furry first born nonetheless.

Andy and I were dating at the time and he rode with me to Mansfield, AR to pick her up in a little grocery store parking lot on a Friday morning. I remember I skipped class to leave early that morning so we could pick her up around lunch time. 

Ellie slept with me, snuggled, cried with me, loved on me, and was my best friend.

My dad always swore we could never have an inside dog, but he soon changed his mind as Ellie became his breakfast buddy. He would come open my door at 6:30 am like clock work, let Ellie out, and eat scrambled eggs together.

Two and a half years later, Andy and I were married in December. Ellie of course moved with me to our new home. She became accustomed to her new home, but we thought she would need a friend. After being commissioned to find my fabulous second momma (Andy's mother) a puppy for Valentine's day, I stumbled across a new breed I had never heard of- Coton de Tulear. A French breed, a literal "cotton dog."

A month later on a Friday morning I left at 6am for Little Rock to pick up our new addition known as Emmie, Ellie's little sister.

This breed is known for its good nature and eagerness to please its owner. They're generally intelligent, happy dogs and are wonderful with children. Also, they are of course known for their fluffy white appearance.

Ellie and Emmie are quite the pair. It seems like Ellie took Emmie under her wing immediately- showing her all the ropes. They quickly became partners in crime, and would sit and plot. For example, we just moved our furniture around a few weeks ago to put up our Christmas décor and what we found behind the couches blew our minds. There were what looked like 20 pairs of socks, 3 chewed up water bottles, bald tennis balls, and the corpses of numerous toys that had previously been plump and full of fuzz. The furbabies tend to hide things from us to put it simply, or in my mind I classify them as hoarders. 

I never imagined they would take to Piper so well. At first they were confused why this new puppy had no hair. They then accepted the fact that the bald puppy did not move like they did nor talk like they did and decided to love her anyway.

Now they are 3 peas in a pod. Literally. Piper is never alone to put it plainly. Wherever she is, the 2 guard dogs are. If she cries, they cry- true story, it's PIT-I-FUL. They even go to the extent of sleeping next to her. At first it made me nervous, but it's like they take turns on watch. One will sit on the back of the couch "watching" while the other is laid next to Piper all snuggled around her. Emmie has a big fluffy pink tail that she curls around Piper and it's the sweetest thing ever and would even make the Grinch's heart melt. They aren't bothered by her grabbing at their hair, nor do they ever bother Piper. They love to give her a kiss on the head or lay at her feet when it's tummy time. Again, it just darn near breaks your heart it's so precious.

I love that Piper will grow up with our furbabies. The only problem I foresee is when they all 3 begin to conspire against us...

I Won't Have It

My favorite comedian is Tim Hawkins. We have most of his DVDs and one of his bits is about his mother and her favorite "lines" from when he was a kid. Among these is my favorite "I won't have it." Won't have what? IT. 

I have a feeling my child will say the same thing about me. "My mom used to say she wouldn't have it, but I never understood what IT is." 

Back to my needle reference from earlier posts- my feelings exactly. I won't nor would I have it. And I didn't have to have one at all. God is good. No epidural/spinal thingy whatsoever. 

Yippie skippy- another Tim Hawkins reference. Watch the DVDs. They're the bomb. 

No needles for me folks and I couldn't be happier. All went smoothly and I was told everything looked good. We could go home! The best words I had ever heard at that point.  3 days in the hospital were all too much for me and my poor 6'5 husband. The poor man had to curl up to fit in the vinyl covered chair converted to a bed and I couldn't have been more sympathetic as I was snug as a bug in my abundantly comfy hospital bed with adjustable incline and 20 pillows and blankets. Oh and did I mention the cuffs on my legs to prevent blood clots? Instant and continuous leg massage. One of the perks of surgery along with the compression socks. Yes I'm the weirdo that loved them, sue me. 

So what did I request as my first food outside the hospital as we left Eldorado city limits?

Oreo Mcflurry. Mini sized. 

After 3 days of jello, pudding, and the ever delicious strained potato soup, this was like eating a slice of what I think Heaven might taste like if it were in some sort of miniature edible form. 

I enjoyed it the entire 50 minutes back to Lamartine, and you would have thought I was arriving in Emerald City when we rounded into the driveway with all the excitement built up in that car. Finally, home with our baby girl. 

Sooooo now what?

Stand Up for...

I woke up at 3:30. Almost on the dot- I was staring at the clock and began to holler. Not yell. HOLLER. 

"Where's my baby?"

"Is she ok?"

"Is she healthy?"

I imagine I woke up anyone sleeping or in a coma within a 10 mile radius. 

After being answered by my 2 sweet nurses, I then proceeded with...

"I'm gonna be siiiickkkkk..."

Nope. Back to sleep. 

I then woke up a bit later in my private room with Andy next to me and the tv on. This was great. Then they introduced me to my best friend for the next 24 hrs. The morphine pump. This was fabulous. In came my healthy 7lb 10oz 18.5 inch long baby girl. This was perfect. 

In came my parents. Wonderful. In came his parents. Great. In came grandparents and aunts and uncles. Good deal. Not much I remember about that except The Voice was on and it was the night that Craig Wayne Boyd sang Old Rugged Cross. That's about all except for how I felt. The ultimate relief. 

I was told later I kept pressing my button and my eyes lingered around the room in a daze. I'm sure that was a sight. I almost wish I could've been a fly on the wall to see it. Ha! 

No what really made me laugh was when the night nurse came in at 1am telling me it was time to stand up. 

I thought she had lost her mind. How on earth was I going to do that? Actually much easier than I anticipated. I had to do a little more work to brace myself and pull up on the side bar of the bed, but what felt like centuries later I was standing. Standing sooner than later made things much much much easier honestly. The sooner I stood, the sooner I could try to walk, the easier the recovery. True story. Anyone who has a section- do not question them or think they're horrible people because they're trying to make you get out of your bed. Seriously, it's for your own good. 

The next day I had Andy walk me around the nurse's station every few hours. Each lap became easier, each up and down from the bed became easier, and the light at the end of the tunnel became brighter. 

Along Came Piper

I remember everything up to the point when they conked me out with gas. After that, I briefly remember waking up in recovery hollering for my baby girl and asking if she was okay and healthy and alive. Next I remember waking up in my hospital room with Andy sitting there with what looked like a wave of relief on his face, then in came my baby girl. And then I remember what I ate, and the fact that I was asked about 50 times if I had passed gas in which I didn't understand why so I kept saying no. Just FYI, say yes. Just FYI, I had not been allowed to eat anything that would have produced any kind of gas, not even a burp or rumbly in my tummbly. Now, if they had allowed me my Taco Bell- we would've been in business. They didn't find that very funny. Seriously though, who gets gas from cherry jello or vanilla pudding?

After calling my husband telling him to head to Eldorado, I was laid down and they put that devilish catheter in. Honest to goodness that was the worst part. I began to panic thinking they were going to give me a spinal- I mean seriously. Big needle. Big needle in my back. No sir. Not happening. I handed my cell phone over to my nurse as they got me on a gurney and off we went. 

Next thing I knew I had an oxygen mask and the lights in the ceiling were whooshing by. Yes, like in the movies. Weird. 

I was in the OR and surrounded by what felt like every nurse, worker, and janitor in the entire place. The anesthesiologist was by my head and stroking my hair telling me I was just fine and they were all right there to take care of me. On either side I had 3 nurses holding my hands and saying they would find Andy and they were right there. The whole staff did nothing but love on me and take care of me. At that moment I was asked what and when I ate last and when my birthday was. There was a click and I was out. 

I was later told when they got my baby girl out,  they found my placenta had torn away from my uterus 90% of the way and I had internal bleeding, but I had begun to clot. They removed a cantaloupe sized blood clot, put me back together, and thanked the good Lord he put me in the exam room at the right time. 

It was estimated that 7 minutes separated me and Piper from catastrophe. 7-10 minutes before I was in the exam room and they wouldn't have heard the funny rhythm to her heart. 7-10 minutes later... Well we won't discuss that. 

Panic Much?

Not knowing why Piper's heartbeat was funky was overwhelmingly frightful. Actually, that would be an understatement. 

My doctor didn't give me time to show panic or express concern before she quickly took the doppler  off my baby bump. With calm demeanor and a soft voice she urged me to go straight to Labor & Delivery and they will be waiting for me. I thought to myself, " No big deal. I've been monitored before. Must be precautionary just in case." Wrong.

As soon as I entered the second floor of the Women's Center, I was met by the head nurse, cheerfully escorting me in a quick,fast, and in a hurry manner to a room that was "all ready for me." I was told to lay on my side and was hooked up to 2 monitors as the nurse clicked the computer screen twice and told me she would be right back. At this point, I was starting to relax. No biggie. I'm sure everything is fine. She didn't seem flustered. Wrong. 

Not 2 minutes later she was back. Hospital gown, catheter, and iv pole in hand, she explained "we're going to get to know each other very quickly. Call your husband and I'll get you in your gown and catheter.  It's going to be okay. Dr. Watson's on the way. We have to get the baby out right now, but you have to stay calm." During this conversation, my room filled with nurses, anesthesiologists, along with what felt like everybody and their momma. Not 10 seconds later here came my doctor, which I can't express how wonderful she is, telling me ," Didn't you say you wanted to have a baby today?"

Yup. I did. 

Never Heard of That

What happened is called a placental abruption. I had to google it from my hospital room. Wikipedia was of course full of information, but I felt more at ease with the WedMd articles. Both had the generally same information about the condition, but you can't always trust that darned Wikipedia- according to English teachers you can't trust it at all.

A placental abruption is as follows:

Placenta abruption is a pregnancy problem in which the placenta separates too early from the wall of the uterus..

• In a normal pregnancy, the placenta stays firmly attached to the inside wall of the uterus until after the baby is born.
• In placenta abruption, the placenta breaks away (abrupts) from the wall of the uterus too early, before the baby is born.

Placenta abruption can be very harmful. In some cases, it can be deadly.

• The baby may be born too early (premature) or at a low birth weight.
• The mother may lose a lot of blood.

http://www.webmd.com/baby/tc/placenta-abruptio-topic-overview

There is no specific known cause. There is nothing I did nor could have done to stop it or cause it. It just happened most likely when I sat in the waiting room at the doctor that day.

I was 39 weeks to the day when I went in for my weekly check up.I told my mom and my husband I would go alone, I would be fine, and I fully expected to leave my appointment to come back to work. My OB joked with me about being close to having a baby within atleast a week or maybe days saying my nose was "getting ready" and apologized for them running behind that day because she had to deliver a baby- I quickly assured her it didn't bother me because what if it was me she had to leave to tend to. Needless to say, I didn't know she would have to do such that very day. At 1:45ish I was in the exam room waiting to hopefully be told I was dialating and could have a baby that day. Minutes later I was told there was no activity going on down there, maybe something will happen soon. Next she as usual listened to the baby's heartbeat. I never considered the thought of not hearing it when she put the dopplar to my ever tightening pregnant belly. 

At first she could not find a heartbeat. Never did she show any panic or let on anything was wrong. When she found it, it was obvious something was wrong. A normal heartbeat has 2 beats in a rhythm- every week when she checked it always had 2 nice strong clear beats. When we listened that day. my child had 3 beats to a rhythm, and I was told "go straight to labor and delivery to be monitored. Just go straight there."

The Things They Never Tell You

There are lots of things they never tell you about pregnancy and childbirth. I'll be honest about it. After learning I was pregnant, I did the mistake of googling "things." My advice is DON'T DO IT! Biggest mistake ever! I learned too much at 10 weeks along, and all through my pregnancy for that matter. Was it beneficial to know the things they never tell you? Why yes of course. Did it completely blow my mind about what was going to happen whenever I went into labor? Yes.
What was I the most terrified about? Blood, pain, contractions? No. What then? NEEDLES. I have an absolute fear of needles. I somehow managed to put 3 holes in each ear without hesitation, but my gosh tell me I'm getting a flu shot and I'll burst into tears before we even make it to the clinic. No one said they drew blood all the time when you're pregnant and severely anemic. No one said they give you all kinds of shots at the hospital after you have the baby. No one said they come in and draw blood a couple times at the hospital after you have the baby. That is exactly what I was afraid of.

One thing though never crossed my mind when I was sent into labor and delivery that day because all I could think about was having to have a needle in my spine for my epidural/spinal tap if they decide I was going to have the baby that day. All I could concentrate on was the possibility of that ginormous needle. One fear never crossed my mind til after the fact of being home and healthy and up and getting in a routine- what if we went in to have our baby, but left without a baby? That thought never crosses a young, healthy pregnant woman's mind when your wonderful doctor is optimistic you would go into labor on your own and do so well because of such a healthy, relatively normal pregnancy.

After mulling it over a zillion and one times, I am thankful we were able to leave the hospital with a healthy baby girl. I am ecstatic to wake up in the early hours to feed or change diapers. I don't mind the projectile spit up or the 2 minute showers because I think she started crying. I don't mind it at all because what if I never got to do those things that I would have normally taken for granted.

Post Partum and Counting

Today I am 8 weeks postpartum with an almost 2 month old. For those who are not new to motherhood, you're right- time unfortunately flies like that of a supersonic jet and the next time I turn around she'll be 22. I personally dislike the terms "postpartum." It sounds so depressing- why not 8 weeks of joy, laughter, giggles, snuggles, late night pajama parties( ie late night feedings and diaper changing), etc.. But they didn't ask my opinion when they coined that term. So now for the big question- Why start a blog now? Why not during your pregnancy? Why after 2 months do you decide to write something?

Well, that would be because it has taken me almost 2 months to come to terms and fully understand the birth of our child, and be okay with it. It makes me feel better honestly. I feel better talking about it. 

The day I "gave birth" to our perfect little miracle- I'm a tad partial- I only knew something was wrong inside my body. At the time I did not know if my child was alive, I did not know I was in danger myself, and I did not know I would be rushed into an operating room within 5 minutes of being sent to labor and delivery. On the other hand, I can not express how grateful I am that I was rushed into that operating room and that minutes separated my child and myself from life or death. It may sound strange, but I am thankful for the ever-changing testimony God has given me. I am thankful to be able to use this experience as a testimony of how only divine intervention saved mine and my child's life that afternoon.

For this I am grateful, and I can not say it enough.