Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

Welp, we did it. Troy and I became parents. Zachary Troy was born at 3:33PM on May 30, 2013 and he shares a birthday with his Grandpa Paul who turned 60 that same day. I will be using this post to shamefully share pictures of our handsome little boy. This week, he had his three month birthday and I feel like I have learned so much since pre-parenting days and I thought I would bestow some of that wisdom onto you.

There are so many things that I thought I knew going into this whole child-rearing thing that turned out to be utterly wrong. When my mom came to stay with us to help Troy and me, we laughed about all the things I told my mom while I was pregnant. She said she would get off the phone after hearing how I was going to do things, and tell my dad about how I was just going to have to figure it out the hard way. What a nice mom for doing it that way and not laughing in my face! Seriously, she totally deserves a gold sticker for everything she did for Troy, Zachary and I while she was here. Which brings me to my first lesson learned:

1. I needed my mommy. Before Zachary was born, Troy and I decided that my mom would only come for a week. After all, babies are small. All they do is eat, poop and sleep. We can handle it. My mom thought that we would need her for two weeks, but we knew better. So we made the arrangements with my parents for my mom to stay with us for a week and that was the plan. As that week started to come to an end, my mom called my dad to figure out when he would come to pick her up and I started to get panic attacks. Finally in a fit of tears, I asked - nay, begged - Troy to allow my mom to stay another week, to which of course, he said yes. My mom was very gracious and glad to stay another week. There were still plenty of tears when we had to part though and I continued to call her with questions.

 

This sweet boy loved to sleep during the day, not the night.

2. The first night home is like pulling an all-nighter in college, but the test date never comes. When we were in the hospital, Troy and I took advantage of the nursery. Every three hours, the nurse would wheel in our beautiful baby to eat and then I would ring the call button and the nurse would bring the baby back to the nursery and I would sleep until the next feeding. When we got home, we spent our first night alone. Both of our parents were still in hotels for the weekend and Troy and I figured we could handle things for a night. WRONG. That sweet, adorable, little baby didn't want to have anything to do with sleeping while it was dark. He wanted to cry and fed and be held - all-night-long. We ignorantly thought he was blissfully sleeping while in the nursery at the hospital (HA! HA! HA!). We were such fools.

I am super embarrassed by this photo, but I post it for you.

3. I will still look 8 months pregnant when I leave the hospital. This one was a real downer folks. I spit out an 8 pound, 5 ounce baby, and because I was induced and pumped full of liquid, I was actually MORE swollen when I left the hospital than when I got there - which is saying a lot because my feet resembled that of Fat Bastard's from Austin Powers before I even delivered. I have included a picture just so you get the idea. I look at pictures of myself when we brought home Zachary and it's gross. Now some ladies, leave the hospital gracefully with a mild post-preggo-pooch, like Kate Middleton. Some ladies leave the hospital looking how they did in college, like my friend Krista (Krista, I am sure you'll protest, but you looked smokin' hot after giving birth and you should embrace it.) I however, was not in that small group . . . there was nothing small about me.

4. "Exhausted Mom" jokes have a new meaning and will suddenly become cruelly hilarious. I have never experienced true exhaustion before. Let me tell you, it turns you into a crazy person. Straight up, cra-cra. I would sit on the couch and be fine one minute and start bawling for no reason the next. A lot of that has to do with the insane hormones that are raging through your body and the fact that you just performed something short of a miracle - birth, but a lot of that comes from lack of sleep. I would wake up in the middle of the night for feedings and I would hate everyone I knew who was sleeping. My only friend was my sister who works the night shift at her dispatch job at the airport. When I would hear people without children say they are tired, I wanted to punch them in the face. Not figuratively either, but I would literally clench my fist and get a solid foot stance ready.

5. I will inevitably parent in such a way that makes me look like a monster to "someone" "somewhere." Every Thursday night I have a weekly Skype date with my dear friend Becca. Not only is she one of my closest friends, I consider her an emotional and spiritual mentor. She and I are very similar and so I often ask for her advice because most of the time, what she has done is a great option for me. When Zachary was two months old, he was still feeding and sleeping whenever he wanted to, which made scheduling anything impossible. I was Skyping with Becca then and just broke down in tears due to my #4 lesson. She basically gave me a prescription on what I should do to get Zachary on a sleeping schedule, which was very similar to Baby Wise. You know what, it worked like a charm and Zachary slept all night long! Of course, that first night Troy and I were half asleep all night, just waiting to hear an explosion of cries that never came. Baby Wise is controversial because for some parents, they believe that "crying it out" is cruel, but other parents (like myself and Troy) can see the benefits of babies learning how to soothe themselves back to sleep. Regardless of which camp you're in, you will always get flack from someone on the other side, which is unfortunate because let's be honest, if you're a parent, you need all the support you can get, so why can't we all just get along? :)

Reading Z his Baby Bible before bedtime.

6. I needed the Lord . . . more.  I would be leaving out a HUGE lesson if I didn't mention this. When Zachary was born, I became so much more aware of mortality, which is morbid, I know, but it's true. At every feeding I would pray that the Lord would watch over my sweet, little boy and that he would grow up to be happy and healthy, but more importantly, that he would grow up to love the Lord too. I would also pray for myself that I would have the strength to get through the day with my lack of sleep and that my husband would know how much I loved him even though I wasn't able to give him much attention. Some nights, Zachary and I would cry together, not knowing what was wrong with the other person and I would look to the Lord for comfort. Having a baby has proven to be the most challenging thing Troy and I have ever done and together, we have turned to prayer for guidance and support. It gave us peace that cannot be matched. Here are some of my favorite verses that I recited during this time:

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4:6

"Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest."" Mark 6:31

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest in your souls." Matthew 11:28-29

7. My baby is obviously the cutest baby on the planet. When I first saw Zachary for the first time, I loved him immediately and thought he was so cute. Not in the all-babies-are-cute kind of way, but I thought Zachary was so cute that it was obvious to everyone who ever laid eyes on him. People would comment on his cuteness and I wouldn't even be gracious about it, I would just say, "I know!" My mom warned me about this. She said that after I had kids, I would wonder how I ever thought any one else kids were "the cutest." She was right. Zachary is the cutest and I am going to throw down the gauntlet and challenge anyone to show me a cuter baby. I will of course judge Zachary's cuteness with his competitor. I will probably be biased. You will probably lose.

Love this.

Love this, too.

 8. I love my husband more than I thought I could. Here's were it gets a little mushy, friends. I have known Troy forever and if you would have told Little High School Pammy Kohler that she was going to get to marry Troy Carlson, she probably would have done an awkward giggle and started sweating profusely but she definitely wouldn't have believed you. Troy is my very best friend and I am so blessed to be married to him, but after having our son, it has been even more fun to see him in his new role. When I was pregnant, he was very protective of me. I remember getting a lecture on the importance of being careful going up and down our rickety basement steps. After Zachary was born, he would have a glass of water ready for me at every feeding, do all kinds of housework and hug me when I was having a moment of the "baby blues." Since acts of service is my love language, I felt very loved. When I see him with Zachary, it just melts my heart. The other night he read Zachary his bedtime story, and I as I watched my favorite men snuggling close to each other, my eyes started to water. Every night, we take turns praying over Zachary and when it is his turn to pray, my heart gets a little warmer. Basically, what I am trying to say is that Troy was smokin' hot before he was a dad, now he is pretty much exuding a nuclear-like heat. Ow! Ow!

9. What to Expect When You're Expecting should not be used as a syllabus. I read that book like it was the childbirth Bible everyone claims it to be. Each milestone month during my pregnancy, I would bone up on how my baby was growing, what I can expect from my body and doctor's appointments and how to make my husband feel like he is more involved in the process. Then the last chapter was about what I can expect once the baby is born and what the first week will look like. Let me tell you . . . they left A LOT of stuff out. Like how the week after you give birth, you could be one of the lucky ones who is in so much pain that getting in and out of chairs makes tears spring from your eyes. Or how sometimes circumcisions don't "work" and your child will be one of the lucky ones who will have to have his REDONE when he is one. Or how that gross line that runs up your belly will take FOREVER to lose, along with your baby weight. Who am I kidding? When I am pregnant with baby #2, I will read it again.

10. I am still a neat freak, OCD and an A-type personality. This can be seen by the fact that I needed to have an even number of lessons learned in this blog and 10 seemed like a good number. When I was pregnant, people would always tell me that I would change when I became a mother and that I couldn't be as "rigid" as I was before. You could call these people the messy, B-Type personalities who don't understand me anyway. To a certain extent, this is true, however, I am still me and I still like schedules, plans and things in order. Look at it this way, if you were standing at a riverbank and wanted to change the flow of the river, all you would have to do would be to throw a pebble in the river. It would change the flow because where the pebble is now, water once was able to flow freely. The river is still flowing in the same direction, the pebble just made a slight change in the flow. That is how I feel about motherhood. Zachary is my sweet little pebble. He has changed some things, obviously, but the river doesn't suddenly start flowing in the reverse direction, and I haven't changed who I am at my core, which is a neat freak, who has OCD and an A-type personality, I'm just a mom now too.

Even though being a parent is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is the best. That little boy melts my heart multiple times a day, every day. I love how he has truly made us a family. I know there will be many more lessons to learn as we go.

Neat Freak

Neat freak. Germ-a-phobe. O.C.D. Yes, I am all these things. Not in a crazy-Pam-should-be-put-in-a-straight-jacket kind of way. In fact, if you and I have any kind of interaction, you might not even know this about me. I do, however, encompass all of those traits, I just fly a little bit under the radar. Well, I guess not after this blog.

I feel like the neat freak is probably the most obvious. Growing up, I think my mom asked me to clean my room once or twice -in my life- unlike my sister who was asked almost every week and then would need a bulldozer and a few gallons of Mr. Clean to even put a dent in the room. As an adult, my house is always clean and things are neatly organized and probably labeled. I am a big labeler. Love it. When I was in high school, we had a New Years Eve party and someone brought over bubble containers in the shape of champagne bottles. I had a friend ask me when the night was over if I would put it in my box labeled "Champagne Bubbles." I thought it was funny and also realized that my friends noticed my weird neatness.

Troy does seem to appreciate it and quite possibly exploit it at times. He is what we neat freaks call "Messy" and leaves his clothes, shoes, etc. everywhere. One time I was so annoyed that his dirty clothes kept missing the laundry basket, that I told him I would not wash anything that didn't make it into the basket. Troy laughed and bet that I wouldn't be able to stand not picking the clothes up off the floor and thought I would waiver before he did . . . to be honest, I kinda thought that too, but I faked my self-confidence, looked him in the eye and told him that I was as serious as a heart attack. The laundry feud only lasted about three days and you better believe those clothes haunted my dreams for those nights that they slept on the floor. Finally, Troy put them in the basket . . . and not a moment too soon.

My sister likes to "test" the neatness. Growing up, she would leave things out in the open, like an empty pop can or a wrapper, and see how long it would take for me to throw it away. Now, she comes over to our house and will rearrange things. I have these shells in my bathroom and she will move them around, wondering if I will notice. Of course I notice. I am the Yoda of Neatness.

I am also a slight to moderate germ-a-phobe. I am always fearful that I am going to catch someone's cold or something worse. The H1N1 scare, literally scared the heck out of me. I washed my hands so often during the day, they got chapped. Whenever I am around someone who I know is sick, I always breathe through my nose. This is especially true when I am flying. I can't stand to think about how we are all breathing in recycled air. **Side Note: I really want to buy one of those portable air filters that the sell in Sky Mall.** I also wash my hands a lot, especially since I work with kids. I love it when they sneeze right in my face. Thanks a lot Little Timmy, I'll be sure to return the favor after your sick-o germs start fighting my white blood cells and I hock a lugee on your desk.

Finally, I am pretty sure I have obsessive compulsive tendencies. This is obvious in the bathroom. For example, when I shower, I have a system. Shampoo hair, rinse, Massage in conditioner, wash face, shave legs, wash body - with a loofah, this is important to a good clean - then I rinse the conditioner off. This is the same routine I do every night. Consequently, I also have a routine when it comes to drying off. Dry off face first, then right leg, starting at the ankle, followed by the left leg, left arm, right arm, midsection, back then I wrap my hair up in a turban. Bada boom, bada bing. One time, I had scraped up my knee pretty bad, so I had to alter my drying off process. It totally threw me off and I completely forgot to dry my arms. What the heck is wrong with me? Who forgets to dry their arms? Weirdos like me who have systems when it comes to drying, that's who.

I have been doing some reflecting and I am pretty sure that some of these tendencies are genetic and I definitely get them from my dad. He is also a neat freak, constantly coming up behind my mom and sister picking things up and putting them "away." It's kinda funny because it drives my mom crazy because then she can't find anything he has put away. Hmm . . . I seem to recall Troy mentioning something similar to that effect when I put things "away." My dad is also a germ-a-phobe. Sometimes Laura and I would visit him at his office and when he would leave the room, Laura would lick the phone receiver. Then when my dad would come back in, she would sweetly look at my dad and say, "I licked something in your office." At this point, I have usually fallen off my chair because I am laughing so hard I have lost motor functions. My dad in the meantime has dashed off to his stash of Clorox Wipes (which he probably kept for this reason because this was a game Laura would play often) and frantically start wiping down all the surfaces in his office. I thought about this earlier today and actually laughed out loud. I am laughing right now just thinking about it.

I really shouldn't make fun of my dad though, after all, I am his protogé when it comes matters of OCD. This might be a great time to do a shout-out to all my Neat Freaks, Germ-a-phobes, and OCD friends. For those of you who are not like us, you know . . . messy, sloppy, non-hand-washing friends, please try to understand that we can't help it. We were born with these tendencies, so don't be offended when I take your plate out of the dishwasher, rinse it off and put it in the correct spot. (Yes, I do that.) And don't take it personally when you are helping me out with the wash and then when you're not looking I refold the laundry. (Yes, I have done that too.) I appreciate your help, but what I would really like for you to do is go wash your hands with the antibacterial soap I have in the bathroom and put a coaster under your cold beverage which has condensation running down the glass and onto my polished coffee table.

So much for flying under the radar now . . .