April 25, 2010

Six Months

I took this photo of Owen on April 17th, his six month birthday.  It amazes me how much his facial features have changed since he was born.  He has developed his personality over the last few months and we love to watch him as he observes his world.

Owen is fascinated with our dog, and he watches Murphy as he prances from room to room.  This morning I was sitting on the floor with Owen in my lap and Murphy sat down next to me.  Owen watched intently as Murphy chewed on his nylon bone.  When the dog rolled over onto his side, Owen giggled.  His laughter is contagious.

Owen loves his big brother, too.  Dawson is a rambunctious 5-year-old; he’s always running, jumping and playing loudly.  When he is chasing Murphy through the house, Owen watches with such concentration.  I can’t get over his ability to pay attention for so long.

Dawson loves all things Star Wars and was making a spaceship out of Legos.  Owen was sitting unassisted and leaned forward to reach for Dawson’s toys.  Dawson noticed and said, “No, no, no, no, no!  You could choke on these, baby brother!”  Owen gave his brother a big, toothless grin.  ”Mommy!  Owen is smiling at me!  He likes me!”  Dawson loves Owen just as much as Owen loves Dawson and it melts my heart.

Owen loves to watch Daddy, too.  Doug is always doing something around the house when he has the time.  When he mops the kitchen floor, Owen will turn his head and twist his body around to see the action.  Every so often Doug will stop and look at Owen and they exchange these wonderful smiles.

Owen is eating solids 3 times a day.  In the morning he has rice cereal made with expressed breast milk.  For lunch he has a vegetable and in the evening we alternate a meat with a fruit, or sometimes both depending on how hungry Owen is.  He still nurses often and has no intentions of weaning.  My favorite part of the day is just before Owen goes to bed. We curl up in bed and he nurses to sleep.  I love how he still fits into the crook of my arm, how he finds comfort in being close to me.  I cherish every moment like these because before I know it he’ll be crawling.  And then walking.

He’s growing up too fast.  Can’t I just freeze time for awhile?

April 19, 2010

Over or Under?

When it comes to toilet paper, my husband considers himself and expert.  He’s rather picky about toilet paper, actually.  It can’t be too expensive, it must be 2-ply, it has to be absorbent without leaving “lint” behind.  Pun intended.  Funny thing is, he never changes the toilet paper roll.  This is one of my biggest pet peeves.  I cringe when I enter the bathroom and find and empty roll still on the holder, and a new roll of paper on the toilet tank.  I mean seriously, how lazy do you have to be? If you are already sitting down… I digress.  Moving on.

When I was asked by Mom Central to participate in a review of Cottonelle toilet paper I jumped at the chance.  My plan was to have my husband write the review, considering how much he loves to debate the best brand of TP.  But again, the laziness.

We received 4 rolls of Cottonelle and when the box arrived I promptly rolled under.  I know.  I KNOW. Most people roll over. I am in the 28% who do not roll over, but I wasn’t always an under roller.  Before kids, I rolled the paper over.  I have only one reason for the switch:  if I roll it over, my son will use a lot of toilet paper.  He’s five.  He doesn’t understand the rules of TP.  When I roll under, he doesn’t seem to be able to grab an excessive amount of toilet paper.

Regardless of your rolling preference, Cottonelle toilet paper will accommodate over and under rolling.  This toilet paper is soft and super absorbent.  It’s a strong, textured paper.  It met all of my husband’s requirements.

The best thing about this Cottonelle is that it’s made by Kimberly-Clark, and we have a KC mill in my hometown.  After trying this brand I think I’ll buy it more often, especially since I know it will boost the local economy.  And of course, who can resist the fun of the Great Debate.  Tell me:  Over or Under?

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I wrote this review while participating in a blog campaign by Mom Central on behalf of Cottonelle and received a sample to facilitate my candid review. Mom Central sent me a gift card to thank me for taking the time to participate.

April 17, 2010

Animal Rescue

Last night we found a baby squirrel laying at the base of a tall pine tree in our front yard.  We had just gotten home from having the kids’ pictures taken when Dawson spotted the little thing on the grass.

“Mom!  I see a rat!  On the ground!  I think he’s dead!”

I immediately turned on my Mom Voice.

“DON’T touch it.  It might be full of germs.  Or rabies!”

When I got a closer look, this is what I saw:

Ugly, but cute at the same time.

“Dawson, that is not a rat.  That is a little baby squirrel.  He must have fallen out of the tree.”

It was very windy yesterday and I assumed one strong gust tossed the little thing to the ground.

“Oh, Mom, he’s dead!” Dawson began to cry.

My heart melted as I witnessed my son’s innocence and compassion toward this helpless little animal.

Then the wind blew and we saw the squirrel’s legs move.  His tail twitched.  His body curled slightly.

“HE’S ALIVE!” Dawson shouted.  His sadness was replaced with happiness, then he became distraught.  ”Mommy!  We have to save it!  We have to bring him in the house and warm him up and feed him and help him!”

I didn’t know what to do, but I was not about to nurse a squirrel back to health.  I mean, it’s a rodent.  Rodentia and I do NOT get along.  I’m terrified of the creepy, scurrying little things.  (When I was very young I found a dead mouse in the garage and it scared me silly.  Still have this phobia about it, all these years later.)

I tried to explain to Dawson why we could not bring the animal in the house.

“Call Daddy!  Daddy will save him!”

Doug was at a friend’s Trivia party and I called his cell phone and told him the news.  He assured me he’d be home soon to help me with this situation.

When Doug arrived he got on the computer and Googled “baby squirrel fell out of tree” and found a wildlife site that gave detailed directions on how to help the squirrel.  Next, he found a cardboard box, lined it with an old towel and tucked a heated water bottle underneath.  Using gloves and a paper towel he picked up the little squirrel and tucked him inside the box.  It was like a baby squirrel crib.  My husband was my hero.  I knew I couldn’t have done what he did. Little Dawson was so happy that his father rescued the squirrel.

The website said that the mama squirrel would most likely retrieve her baby as long as he hadn’t been severely injured.  Since we weren’t sure of his condition we didn’t know what to expect.  Doug told Dawson that all we could do was hope the squirrel would survive the cold night and that his mother would get him in the morning.

Dawson awoke at 7:45 and was eager to check on his little friend.  We went outside and looked in the box but didn’t see the baby squirrel.  I told Dawson that his mother probably retrieved him.

Ater the Doodlebug went back in the house, I moved the towel a little and saw that the baby squirrel was still tucked inside, but he had died.  I touched his leg with a twig.  No movement.  No breathing.  I cried. I knew I couldn’t tell Dawson the truth.  It would break his heart.

I feel very sad.  I don’t like that I’ve lied to a 5-year-old.  I know he’s old enough to understand the truth, but I do not want to upset him.  On the other hand, lessons on life and death could be learned.  But is Dawson ready for that?  I don’t know.

What would you do?

April 13, 2010

Motherhood 2.0

In the last few days I’ve realized there is a difference between first-time motherhood and parenting a second child:  I am so much calmer this time around.

When Dawson was born I was a nervous new mom.  I never felt confident that I was “doing things right.”  I questioned every decision I made and worried about ridiculous things.  The funny thing is that everyone told me to just relax and trust my instincts, and this advice infuriated me, because I truly didn’t know if I had maternal instincts.

Sure, I have younger siblings and I spent many of my teen years babysitting, but it’s completely different when you have your own kids.  A baby’s needs and his survival are completely dependent upon you, at least until they learn how to walk, feed themselves, and wipe their own butts.

As soon as Dawson learned to roll over and eventually crawl, I became obsessed with childproofing and making sure nothing harmful would come in contact with him.  I sanitized toys.  If he dropped a spoon or fork I’d immediately wash it off or get him a new one.  I went through baby wipes faster than anyone I know.

It’s different with Owen.  I’m not saying I’m an expert, but I feel more confident in my parenting this time around.  I know it’s okay for him to fuss for a few minutes while I use the restroom (he LOVES to be held).  If his favorite toy falls on the living room floor I hand it back to him (unless it’s truly dirty of course).

My mom came over yesterday and commented on how good-natured Owen is.  She was amazed at how calm and happy he is.  ”He’s such a good baby,” she said.  ”He doesn’t cry about anything.”

I wanted to tell her to come over just before bedtime when he’s super fussy as he tries to fall asleep.  But I realized she’s right.  He is a much calmer baby.  I don’t want to compare my children because I know they are two amazing individuals.  I do want to point out that Dawson was a little more high strung and I think it’s because he could sense my anxiety.  Maybe Owen is content because I’m more relaxed and confident.

It seems as though firstborn children are the guinea pigs.  It’s almost unfair, yet truly, we learn to become parents with them.  They train us. Dawson made me a mother.  The lessons he has taught me have made me the caring and attentive parent that I am today.  Sometimes I feel like I’ve made mistakes with him that I won’t make with Owen.  My experiences with Dawson are like a check list.  Okay, I did this and that happened, and I won’t be handling things like that again.  I often wonder if Owen has an advantage in being second-born.  I have a better grasp on childrearing this go-round, and he reaps the benefits.

I know that’s crazy, because all that matters is I have two wonderful boys, each with their own awesome personalities.  Dawson is well-rounded and kind.  He has a fantastic sense of humor.  His smile lights up a room.  Owen is my little ham.  He giggles at his big brother’s antics.  He is fascinated with Murphy, our dog, and watches him with such intense concentration.

Yes, there truly are differences in raising one child versus two children, but one thing is the same:  both my babies love to cuddle with their mama.  Maybe I’m doing this parenting thing right after all.