Still Counting

One of my favorite lullabies--which I sing to Noah often--is Irving Berlin's Count Your Blessings from White Christmas. Having just returned from a family-filled trip north for Thanksgiving, I thought it was about time to do just that. So, here's the tip of the iceberg, in no particular order:

1. A happy baby (even when his nose is running and he has no idea where he is). Noah has met his first cold, and fortunately, it's a mild one. Even so, the gurgly breath and snotty nose have not kept him from smiling, eating, sleeping, or even laughing -- no minor miracle.

2. Parents and grandparents who are willing to host us at a moment's notice. After driving 130 miles in 5 hours (including about 12 inches in 50 minutes) due to one accident after another, we gave up our attempt to reach Indianapolis Wednesday night. Thankfully, we had family at two different points along the way who were willing to let us crash at their houses.

3. Brothers and sisters-in-law that we'd love even if we weren't related. Whether we need advice, a helping hand, an example, or just a good fix of Madden football, they're on the job, and we're so grateful.

4. Nieces and nephews that have sweet, fun spirits. I'd say these pictures pretty much say it all...

5. Pies, pies, pies -- strawberry rhubarb (which I learned is not Josh's favorite after all, despite the fact I told Tara it is), blueberry, pumpkin, and mincement. We had "zerts" coming out the wazoo, and that's not even including the donuts at breakfast, the cookies at lunch, or the lattes when we went shopping. We're all slightly warmer now, due to the extra insulation.

6. Hotels with free coffee and indoor pools. Sometimes, it's the little things in life. To avoid a fire code violation at my brother's house, we stayed in a hotel for a couple nights during Thanksgiving, which gave us access to the indoor pool and jacuzzi, plus the 24-hour coffe/hot chocolate stand. Since we experienced our first freezing temperatures of the year without winter coats, both of the above were much appreciated.

And since I'm running out of time, here's the short version of a few more:
7. jogging strollers on fall days
8. cell phones
9. late-night chats
10. Picassa (otherwise we'd have more red-eye than photos)
11. babysitters (especially family)
12. Target (which Josh likes to remind me I once called "the answer to all my needs")
13. cinnamon dolce lattes (who knew they've been on the Starbucks menu all this time?)
14. Christmas carols
15. health insurance (it's amazing what it costs to hear a doctor say, "Push!")
16. cell phones (they've gotten us out of so many jams, I figured they deserve another mention)
17. Josh's job (which funds many of the above)
18. Fun books (most recently Rise and Shine and Can't Wait to Get to Heaven)

I could go on forever, but it's dinnertime, so I'll let you imagine the rest...

I Don't Know.

Is he feeling ok?
Should I give him a bottle?
Should we rock him?
How much change is good for him?
Does he know who that is?
When will he wake up?
How well will he adapt to that new environment?
What should I be teaching him?
Is he getting enough tummy time?
Should I be pumping more?
Why is he spitting up so much?
Is he spending too much time with me?
How old should a babysitter be?
What is he thinking right now?
Why is he crying?

I am loving getting to know Noah, watching him wake up to a world that is noisy, diverse, colorful, amusing and confusing. In the midst of that joy, I must admit that I'm haunted by three little words.

I don't know.

I don't know why he's crying. I don't know what he's feeling. I don't know what I should do.

It's an awful feeling, and at three months, I sort-of expected to understand him better. I'm his mother. We're together 24/7. How can he still be such a mystery?

I am enjoying this time -- his cooing, his cuddling, his sweet gaze, his nighttime breathing. Yet I can't help looking forward to the day when he can tell me what hurts. Though part of me knows that this feeling of helplessness isn't going anywhere.

That Toddling Town

Little Noah is now quite the traveler. Six flights in 13 days, and not a peep on any of them! The last two flights took us to/from Chicago, visiting our cousins, meeting Daddy's coworkers, and strolling the magnificent mile. It was great to be back in such a beautiful city with so many memories. When we were not out-on-the-town (due to napping, nursing, or bedtime), I discovered the true value of having a room with a view...

First in Flight

I've always heard that kids are full of surprises, so why am I still surprised by Noah's surprises? As we set off last week on our grand adventure to the beautiful swampland of South Florida, I worried that we would reverse the excellent progress we'd made toward 10-hour nights. All that worry for nothing. Noah slept like a baby (or better, really) at Grandma and Grandpa's, even with the time change and "falling back." Oh no, it wasn't the new crib and bedroom that threw him for a loop (thank the Lord).

It was the altitude. Not being a pacifier man, we had to work hard to keep Noah sucking (i.e. eating) during ascent and descent during each flight. By the end of the 2nd flight to Florida, he was wiped out and Mom and Dad decided not to wake him for the descent. That was a mistake.

Let me just pause here to reiterate that comment: That was a mistake. If any unsuspecting parents out there were in doubt, let me set the record straight: you would rather WAKE YOUR BABY during ascent/descent to suck on something than suffer the consequences. Our poor little guy cried more that night than ever before (quite the greeting for Gma and Gpa, though they were great about it). He was inconsolable for about an hour until he wore himself out (and we were able to give him some Tylenol). Amazingly, he still slept that night, but he was hoarse for days and Mom took at least as long to get over the trauma.

The only other signs that he noticed we weren't at home? He didn't poop for about 2 days and he refused a couple of bottles. Thankfully, he was still smiley and goofy and sweet, so Mom and Dad (who are gluttons for punishment) are about to do it again.

In the meantime, here are a few pics of our great adventure:





Oh, and in case I left you hanging, we managed to feed Noah during ascent/descent of both flights on the way home, so all was well in our house that night. (I discovered the key was to only feed him when we were actually ascending or descending so he stayed hungry enough to keep eating.)