Fall Pictures

What is this, my week to blog? Sorry for the post overload. But like a lot of other moms, this is sort of my journal/scrapbook. Blogging is about as scrapbooky as I get. Feel free to not read this. Although you'll miss some killer cute pictures...

A couple of weeks ago my sister, sister-in-law and I headed to the farm to do (what's turning out to be) our annual fall pictures. I love Wheeler's Farm in the fall. It is beautiful. And the day we went the weather was perfect: warm and crisp and very fall-like.

These are my favorite pictures from the day (these are the unedited version-I was too impatient to wait for the edited ones). There are a ton!

My nephew and niece, Zeke and Lucy. Also known as Ben's other siblings.

My buddies and me.

No trip to the farm is complete without feeding the ducks.

Or showing a little affection.

Trying for a pose.

We got him to sit still and we got him to look at the camera. Asking him to smile would have been too much.

Sometimes it's a good idea to check out what's on the bottom of your shoe.

You know I always save my favorite for last.

Thanks for the great pictures, Jeanette!

Comparing the Kids

Every couple of weeks or so I look through my pictures of Ben as a baby and put them side by side with pictures of Jake. I love doing this. I love seeing the differences and similarities in the boys. John was worried when I first started doing this because he thought I was comparing and having one child come up ahead. I promise that's not what's going on. I just love seeing how two kids coming from the same two people can be nothing alike.

Knowing Jake's 8 week birthday was today, I looked through Ben's pictures last night to see if I had any good ones of him at 8 weeks. I found the two below and told John that Jake was wearing the blue striped jumper tomorrow. Being indulged in my crazy ways, I woke up to Jake dressed and ready to go in the jumper. At first glance I could already see a big difference from when Ben wore it- it was two inches too short on Jake! Taking after his mom's side of the family (I've got tall brothers), Jake is a bit longer than Ben was.

I set up shop on the couch and tried to do a little recreating. Didn't seem all that difficult at first, but I quickly realized another big difference between the boys. We could not get Jake to smile! He's usually at his smiling peak in the mornings (which isn't saying much), but he must have known something was going on. Ben, on the other hand, always gave away smiles at the drop of a hat. You've got to really work them out of Jake. And even then, he usually reserves them for mom and mom only.

Here's what we ended up with:

(That top right picture with the fingers is of Ben and me working tirelessly to get Jake to smile. We weren't trying to poke holes in him, promise.)

I can see some similarities. They've got the same chin and hairline (courtesy of their dad). They also almost have the same nose; Ben's is just a big pointier, Jake's a big more round. If you get really nit-picky, they have the same bottom lip, but Jake seems to be missing a top lip. Other than that, they look so different to me. The biggest difference, I think, is their eyes and coloring. You're seeing things right- Jake is a redhead. We like to call him Big Red and Rusty (we come up with such flattering nicknames at our house). I do not know where the red came from, although I'm giving John credit; his facial hair tends to look more auburn than brown in the right light.

Another big difference to note is the amount of bleach I use when washing clothes. I should probably invest in better laundry detergent...

Anyway, I do love comparing my kids. They both seem to come up winners with me. (Ahhh...)

Cowboys and Indians

Halloween is my very favorite!

Friday night we carved pumpkins. Ben loved it. And by loved it, I mean LOVED IT. He has never in his almost three years of life sat in one spot for so long (almost two hours!). All it took was a knife for bribing and a small amount of supervision. I'm going to use knives to bribe him from here on out. "If you clean up your toys, I'll pull out the knives." Maybe not...


The finished pumpkins. Ben was so proud of them.



Saturday was the neighborhood Trick or Trunk. My mother-in-law and I have been planning costumes since July. We ended up deciding on Cowboys and Indians and once again she outdid herself making them. I tried to do a little photoshoot at home before we left, but Ben wouldn't look at the camera and the more I asked, the further he'd move his head to the side, so the pictures are what they are.

(I'm the mom so I probably shouldn't say this, but... doesn't Jake sort of looked stoned in these pictures? We laughed so hard when we uploaded them to the computer. He looks so out of it, but still smiling and awake. I think it's funny.)

Here is Ben at the event. They had games and a small parade. It was good times. When we got in the car to go home he said, "I was maybe a little too scared." We asked what he was scared of and he said, "My friends." It's understandable; baby elephants and clowns can be a little spooky.


Here's my favorite picture from the day. The backside of Ben with his gallon-sized hat and butt-less chaps. I love those chaps maybe a little too much.



My other favorite part is that I get to dress them all up again this weekend. I wish Halloween would last forever!

Family Resemblance

Today is Jake's six week birthday! Six weeks and I'm just now starting to feel like things are calming down. I've got the hormones under control, Jake's been sleeping great at night (knock on wood), he smiles all the time and cooed for the first time today, and I think we finally got the right medicine for his acid reflux. I think I might be able to handle two kids. Thank goodness, too, because neither one is going anywhere.

One thing is for sure about my little Jake. He is his mother's child-in both looks and personality. It's crazy to have two completely opposite children. Ben is exactly like his dad, Jake is exactly like me. Ben was so easy going and mellow. Jake is more demanding and fussy. Ben was always busy exploring his surroundings and learning. Jake is good to sit and watch tv for an hour (at six weeks!). Ben hated sleeping. The only thing Jake loves more than sleeping is eating. That boy is so my child! I'm loving being able to experience both personalities.

Jake also looks exactly like me. Or exactly like my mom, anyway. Which, I'll admit, I was a little sad about at first. Not that I don't think he's handsome or anything, but during my pregnancy I was picturing another little John Mann. That's not what we got. We got a Grandma Lois (as we affectionately called him) instead. But he's rather grown on me, I must say.

I decided to break out some baby pictures to see the resemblances. Then I realized I don't have any baby pictures. I was child #6. The only pictures I'm in are family pictures (thanks, mom). I do have a killer family picture though. First, here is Jake:

He always looks like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And here is a picture of me when I was younger (not a baby-couldn't find one). I'm the boy sitting on my dad's lap.

Is this picture not the best? Being poor builds character. Being poor builds character. Being poor builds character...

Does Jake not look exactly like me? He does in real life, I promise.

While I'm at it... Here's Ben at about a year:



Here's John in a another killer family photo (he's the middle child):



They are so twins. I loved having a mini-John and I love having a mini-me. It's pretty fun. Even if he does come with my personality... (He's going to my challenging child.)

Jake also has a new cousin. My SIL (John's brother and his wife) had a baby September 30th. Amber and I were due 4 days apart. The boys ended up being born 4 weeks apart, with a three pound difference! Here's Luke and Jake a couple weeks ago:

Jake had a bad case of jaundice-don't mind the yellow face.

I can't wait for these boys to grow up so they can play a little more. And doesn't little Luke look a lot like his dad (the baby is John's family picture)? I love it!

Happy six weeks, Jake. I'm so glad we survived. Here's to six more. (We'll start small and work our way up.)

My Newborn

Let me just be frank here. This mother of two business is kicking my butt. Don't get me wrong, I love my boys to bits, but it's been an adjustment to say the least. Things were going so great Jake's first week of life. Then the stinker had the nerve to wake up. And I headed straight toward Meltdown City. I'm almost embarrassed to admit how much this second baby has thrown me for a loop. Millions of moms everywhere have multiple kids and handle it with ease. Why can't I? But between a temperamental milk supply, possible postpartum depressions (I know, TMI), reflux, and a busy two year old, it's taking me some time to adjust. I guess the important thing is that I still love all my boys. I haven't yet given the baby back to the hospital or posted an ad on Craigslist for an almost three year old. Not yet.

Anyway, here are the little one's two week pictures. Thanks to Jeanette for coming to my house during my biggest-to-date meltdown and calming me down with your camera. I think the pictures turned out more than great! And I'm sorry to every friend and neighbor who has caught me on a teary day. I swear I'm seeking professional help.

(I'm in love with is butt rolls in this picture.)

(My favorite.)

Details, Details

I had a baby, and you know I can't just push a human being out of my body and not share all the gory details, right? Well, here is Jake the Snake's birth story. It will involve a lot of TMI and way too much use of the word "blood". Be prepared.

But first I have to mention Ben's birth. Ben's birth was a dream. A very easy, surprisingly funny experience. I went in, I was given petocin, I was given an epidural, I pushed the epidural button a thousand times too many and couldn't feel the majority of my body, I pretended to push anyway (making the infamous face) and then I gave birth. A perfect labor if you ask me.

At the beginning of my pregnancy with Jake I told my doctor all about my first birthing experience (minus the part about lying to push) and said I'd love if we could do it all just the same. She said she'd do her best and, thankfully, wasn't against inducing.

A couple of weeks before Jake came I started dilating. I started at a 3.5, the next week went to a 4 and was 70% effaced. My doctor decided to strip my membrane. The next day I was out talking with my neighbor, telling her this baby wasn't coming until November, when John got home from work. We went inside and did the normal get-home-from-work routine (which involves tons of smooching-just kidding). After a minute I went to the bathroom and saw that I was bleeding. A lot. I ran into the hall, with my pants still down (I told you there'd be TMI) and said we needed to go the hospital. We grabbed everything we thought we'd need and called my sister to drop Ben off and almost 45 minutes later got to the hospital. We were laughing about how long it took to get there and saying it was a good thing it wasn't real labor.

I'd started contracting regularly on the ride over so they hooked me up and monitored me for a few hours. Around 11pm they said the baby sounded fine, the blood hadn't stopped but wasn't hurting either of us, and the contractions weren't dilating me further so I could stay or go-it was up to me. Ben was at our house by this time with my MIL, saying he wouldn't go to bed until I got home. So I decided I'd just go home and call my doctor in the morning if I was still bleeding. Plus, my back had really started hurting and I thought it was because of the super uncomfortable bed I'd been laying on.

So we got home, I put Ben down (sometime after midnight), barely brushed my teeth and went to bed. My contractions were getting worse and worse and I was slowly turning into one of those women who moan and say things like "You did this to me!" with every contraction. John thought I was being way over dramatic and offered to draw me a bath just to get me out of the bed. The bath helped a ton and I told John I was just going to stay on the couch so I didn't annoy him all night with my dramatics. He told me to call him if I needed him. So thoughtful...

(Did I mention this story might run a tad bit long? It will.)

I tried to sleep a little on the couch but knew I'd be up for the night. It felt like my contractions were slowly going away only to be replaced by the worse back pain I have ever felt-and I've felt my share of back pain. It hurt so much I started throwing up, barely making it to the bathroom, not quite making it to the toilet. So I call John and said we're going back to the hospital. He calls his mom while I'm still on the bathroom floor moaning and he's cleaning up barf looking at me like I'm insane. It was a good moment for us.

The second my MIL showed up I was out the door. Two seconds later I felt the sudden urge to pee. I ran back inside hoping to make it the bathroom. Once I sat down I heard a huge "pop" and felt my water break.

The second time around, we made it to the hospital in record time and I'd started feeling so much better. I wasn't feeling any contractions and it felt like my back pain was going away. When we rolled into Labor and Delivery they were all frantic to get a room ready. I sat on the bed for a few minutes and said I'd really like an epidural. The nurse said the anesthesiologist was with another patient but he'd get there as soon as he could. The back pain was coming back at this point and so was the vomiting. Then the nurse told me to lay on my side so she could check me and that's when the pain was taken to a whole new level. It was crazy bad. I was dilated to an 8 and 100% effaced.

I laid there for a few more minutes while the room became packed full of people setting up the baby's corner and getting me an IV, when I felt the worse pain ever and screamed out, "I HAVE TO PUSH!" The nurse freaked out and got right in my face and told me not to push. After the contraction was over she checked me and I was fully dilated and the baby was crowned. She got on her little phone necklace thing and I heard her say, "She wants an epidural but she's not going to make it." I swear I almost started crying. After that I'm not sure how many contractions I had, but every single one was the worst pain of my life and the nurse was in my face yelling at me not to push.

Then I was suddenly rolled over and I heard a man say, "I'm just going to go by her scar" and I thought, I don't care if I'm paralyzed for life, just make this pain go away. A little dramatic. In the next second my left leg was completely numb and I was feeling a million times better. After that I heard the anesthesiologist say "hey, come look at her scar, it's the entire length of her back" and my backside was viewed by a room full of people, I was rolled back over and the rest of me numbed up nicely. Seriously, if I knew the name of the man who did that to me, I'd send him a Thank You card with a plate of warm cookies.

Three contractions later, little Jake was born. He was born head up which explained all the back labor. It was definitely not my favorite labor out of the two, but it was so short lived and Jake is so cute that it's all been forgotten. But not really.

He's now a week old and he's the sweetest little guy ever. He nurses like a pro, sleeps great and is giving Ben a run for his money on being the perfect infant.

I don't think Ben is 100% sure how he feels about "the babes" (that's what he calls him) yet. He'll give him hugs and kisses, but for the most part stays out of his way. Which is better than the smothering I'd thought he do. I did find the boys like this the other day, so I guess he must like him a little:



I'm now way outnumbered by boys, but I happen to like them all so things couldn't be better.

Number Two

Meet Jacob Zachary Mann, aka Baby Jake. He came fast and early at 4am Thursday morning, weighing 6 pounds, 1 ounce and measuring 20 1/2 inches long.





He is as sweet as can be and we're just in love with him.

The Home Stretch

Next Monday I'll be exactly one month away from birth. Only four more weeks left. Maybe three, if my doctor remembers her promise to induce a week early (I'm not getting my hopes up, just in case). After being pregnant for what seems like seven years, four, maybe three, weeks seems really close and way too far away. I'm definitely more scared this time around than I was the last. Ignorance is bliss and while I've only had one kid and don't know everything that can happen, I feel like I know too much (or have heard too much). I just keep telling myself that as long as I get a good epidural like I did with Ben, things will go smoothly. Honestly, birthing out Ben was a breeze. My body loves being heavily medicated. So as long as I get some good stuff, I think I'll be ok. I'm trying not to think about what it'll be like if I don't.

I'm also really excited to finally get this little guy here. I'm excited to see Ben's reaction to the baby. That boy has a thing for babies. I have no doubt he's going to smother the poor guy. He's been so sweet during my whole pregnancy. I think he picks up on how John acts and treats me the same way. He's always asking if I feel ok, do I need to sit down, am I sad? (I am so freakishly hormonal, I've been crying way too much.) He loves talking to the baby and asks to snuggle him all the time. I think he's going to go through withdrawals when I lose this watermelon of a belly (let's hope I lose it!). He always pulls up my shirt and lays his head on my stomach so he can nap with the baby. It's pretty stinking cute-so cute that I tried to capture the sweetness on camera. What I mostly got was a big scary belly and a picture of Ben looking terrified. I'd be terrified too if I was laying my head on that thing...



I'm so ready to just be done being pregnant. I'm going to sound like a broken record saying this, but there is nothing I like about pregnancy-other than the baby at the end. Some women find pregnancy a miracle of life. I think it's gross. I'm growing a human being inside my body. I can feel him moving around inside of me. I have to push him out. AFTER he gets big. Then I have to feed him with my body. It's a little sick. I get pretty grossed out if I think too much about it.

I've also decided that being almost 8 months pregnant must be a lot like being really, really old. You develop weird skin issues (veins and, in my case, tiny red dots sprinkled all over my stomach), you pee your pants over a sneeze or any sudden movements. I now need to eat small, frequent meals and always get heartburn after. I can't roll over, bend over or get off the couch easily. My arms and legs fall asleep for no reason and without warning. I'm super paranoid and always complain about the heat. I need my daily nap to function because I get worn out so easily. I've been saying since I was little that I never wanted to get old and being pregnant just reaffirms that for me. At least there's an end and a reward to pregnancy. Being old, it's only going to get worse and worse. Until you die.

Anyway, I'm ready for this baby to get here. He's got a very excited, slightly terrified (and terrifying) family waiting for him. So, Baby, don't feel like you need to wait the full four weeks. You're welcome to come any time (hint, hint).

I'm Free!

Starting tomorrow I'm free as a bird! This aliment I call bed rest will be put to rest for good. I'm pretty excited about it. But if there's one person more excited than I am, it's John. Not because he can't handle doing everything all by himself. I learned something while on bed rest, and it's that my family can totally survive and be just fine without me. John has proven he's more than capable of being mom and dad. But I know he's really, really happy not to have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn anymore to go to work. Although I will miss him coming home at 3:30 everyday.

Bed rest was pretty boring stuff, but thanks to family, friends and a little creativity, I managed to stay occupied. I:

• Broke in the new recliner/rocker we bought for the nursery. It now has my butt indented in it for life. That's comfort.
• Made a whole lot of lists: To do lists, to buy for baby lists, grocery lists, cleaning lists- all of which I handed over to John to take care of.
• Thanks to my ghetto lawn chair, worked on my tan. I'm now a rather fetching shade of off-white.
• Made the acquaintance of each and every McDonald's employee working the breakfast shift on 21st and 23rd.
• Started a serious Creamy addiction. I average 3 a day.
• Folded hundreds of 0-3 month white onsies. Seriously, did I use all of those with Ben?
  
• Took weekend drives up the canyon for much needed changes of scenery.
• Had way too many nice people bring over snacks, treats, fountain drinks and, much to John's delight, weekly meals. Thank you!!
  
• Played approximately 354,976 games of Suduko. I'm almost not exaggerating.
• Watched a whole lot of Baby Story. I learn so much from that show. (Like how to trick your doctor into thinking you're actually pushing.)
• Had an emotional breakdown or two. Like the time I sat in front on an open closet and cried because I wanted to clean it out. Or the time I sat on the carpet outside the kitchen and cried because I wanted to scrub the floors. Or the time... You get the idea. What does it say about me that every breakdown I had was over wanting to clean?
• Thanks to my sisters who kept me supplied with crafts and material, I spent a lot of time making a lot of cute crap. I made bookmarks, fridge magnets, knitted matching winter hats for the boys, sewed multiple nursing covers, made coasters (or, to be honest, watched as my sister made them for me), and last but not least, with the help of my mother-in-law (who did most of the work), made Ben a quilt.

(Ben's taking a nap in his bed right now or I would have modeled it there. It still needs to be washed before he can use it.)

That about sums up the last 9 weeks. Thanks to every single person who helped take care of our family and keep us entertained. You're the best! I promise this was the last time. We'll be adopting from here on out...

Better Than A Tanning Bed

I did it. I had the baby. Just kidding.

I found a way to lay out while pregnant. A while back I blogged about how I was going to cut a hole in a lawn chair so I could tan the back of my body while pregnant. I stole some really, really old lawn chairs from my mom's house but when I got home to cut them up, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Not because the chairs were too good looking to cut up (they were so ugly they were begging me to take the scissors to them), but because it just seemed too ghetto for even me.

But, today, I finally got bored enough and desperate enough to make it happen. I headed to my sister's house so she could watch the little ones (and her backyard is sunny, mine is shady) and while the boys played:



I cut:



I was really doing that beauty a favor by cutting it up. The only problem was that I guessed my belly would go in the center, but I really should have cut it a little more towards the top; my feet hung off the end a bit. It was still great to lay on my stomach. The baby thought it was fun too, he was going nuts kicking around.



We were laughing pretty hard once I tried it out. This is the only picture I'm posting because it's a close up. The others show too much of my white and whaleish body to be showing off to the general public. I like to keep my scariness for family and friends only.

I have to admit, while extremely white trash, it's a pretty good solution. It also makes for some good laughs. Plus, I now have another place to lay while on bedrest. I may be getting fatter and fatter, but at least it'll be a tan fat, right?