1. We made a trip to Ikea on Monday (thank god for 3 day weekends!). It was only the second time we’ve gone since Easton was born, so it was nice be back in the land of Expedits.

While there we restocked our frame collection for another gallery wall and bought some ledges for book storage in the playroom. We grabbed quite a few of these new (at least to me, it’s been a few months) glossy gray Ribba frames.

(via Ikea)

I’ve made it my own resolution to hang these things ASAP so they don’t sit around driving me nuts. But…

2. It’s Pinterest Challenge time again, so I have an excuse to be unfocused! Probably for the first time since these things started, I know exactly what I want to make… a play tent for Easton. Wish me luck as I buy dowels and sheets this weekend…

(from Twirl via Pinterest)

3. We’ve been behind on posting Easton’s monthly laundry basket pictures, but we have them hanging around on a memory card. I’ll get them all caught up on one post soon.

Yeah he doesn’t even fit laying in that basket anymore and he’s, um, almost 9 months now. Whoops.

4. We recently lowered Easton’s crib to the middle setting. Just as I was going to tweak the no sew crib skirt I made to fall flat with his crib, I woke up to this at 2am yesterday.

The face says it all, he’s not a morning person either. Luckily, I didn’t take a picture of my face at that moment. My hair was sticking up way more than his

We lowered the crib fully yesterday and now I have to decide how to work the crib skirt for the small amount of space left. Seriously, the nursery feels like it will never be “complete”. Every time I plan to take room reveal pictures, something happens, like I ram a vacuum into a piece of molding…

I’m such a jerk.

5. Speaking of my baby growing up, his first birthday isn’t too far away (3 months! only 3 months!! ) so all of that planning is stashed in the back of my head. I don’t want to do a set theme, but I’ve been playing with his Zany Zoo beads and I think I’ve settled on a color scheme…

Aqua, orange, lime green and royal blue/navy (whichever I can find more easily). My only expectation is that it be fun and fit for a one year old. I’m not trying to win any Pinterest party planning awards here. A happy baby and some full bellies works for me!

Considering all of these are on my to-do list, I’m obviously not doing a very good job at my New Year’s resolution to streamline my life. Good thing my current resolution is to get more sleep, though my miniature boss is in charge of that one.

This weekend, we finally got around to taking down the floating shelves.  While we loved them for an office, we didn’t think they were too practical for a playroom.  So down they went; they’ll probably reappear somewhere else in the house.  We also took down the ceiling fan which will end up in the new office upstairs.

The bracket holes were spackled and sanded once and need to be sanded again. We originally painted around the shelves, so we now have a slightly raised edging.  We’ll have to spackle and sand, and then spackle and sand a couple times to get everything flush again.

I apologize in advance for all of these pictures I took at night (like an hour ago).  Our camera settings were all wacky from the last time we used it and I couldn’t get the lighting to look right at night. Oops.

So what did we replace the ceiling fan with?  Well, a long time ago we picked up a light at Ikea. We had always knew we wanted to use it in the playroom, but never got around to installing it…until now!

(via Ikea)

We wanted something fun in the playroom, but nothing that screamed childish.  We found Ikea’s Fillsta, a playful hanging light for $29.99.  It was simple, had some shape and was cheap.  Perfect.

But much like any Ikea product, the install resulted in some head scratching.  And Mike dropping the f-bomb just a handful of times.  For anyone landing on our lil blog scratching their own heads trying to get the Ikea Fillsta installed, here’s the trick: cut the extra slack from the hanging cord to the length you need.

The dome base is actually held in place by tension in the cord.  So the tighter the cord inside the base, the tighter it will fit against the ceiling.  With most other light fixtures, these components typically slide or screw into place.  Nope, not with the Fillsta.  Mike originally rolled up the extra cord and stuffed it into the base.  Then he tried a bunch of zip-ties.  Finally after a couple milkshakes and a solid nap, Mike decided to just cut the cord down to the size we required.  Sure enough, it worked.  Now we just have to touch up the paint around it (though I love the white light against the dark ceiling!)

Here is the Fillsta with the light off.

And here is with the light on. Glowing! I love the little bit of whimsy it adds to the room, which the direction I’m sort of going in here. Clean and modern, yet fun! We’ll have to get a better room shot once we finish some other items in the room. What other items you ask?

These roman shades. We were originally going to dye them when the room was an office. We were even going to dye them when we switched it over to the playroom. But after doing some Googling, we’re not quite sure how to get the color we really want (so, um, anyone have any experience dying blinds? Using fabric spray paint?).  We’re thinking we just might replace them with the white version.  Any suggestions?

Where did we go you ask? Austin, Texas.

I went there with a completely empty head. I didn’t plan to get any sort of blog material or take pictures. This may be the first time we’ve gone on vacation where I wasn’t looking for cool things to blog about. I think maybe it’s because a very popular blog was just in Austin and once something’s been done, it ruins the blog post appeal for me. I don’t want to be a copy cat despite the fact that this trip was booked long before Young House Love ventured to Austin.

But, you guys, Austin is awesome. It has earned it’s own post (though this is not necessarily a sightseeing post). On everyone’s blog…go to Austin and blog about it.

I guess I should start at the beginning? We planned to leave for the airport at 4am on Thursday. I woke up at 3:30 with an awful case of mastitis. Really, really awful, and I’ve done this many times before. I couldn’t stand up straight and I was shaking from the chills. How I was supposed to get myself straightened out, wake up Easton and get us both out the door in a half hour was beyond me. I knew that in a few hours I’d likely be okay, so Mike got on the phone with the airline and tried to move us to a later flight. The flight change fees were ridiculous (over $500), plus we wouldn’t sit together and the flight wasn’t direct. Plus for our second flight (Houston to Austin), we’d be on standby. I popped some Motrin, made a poor attempt to pump, then woke up Easton to see if he could fix my problem. He helped a little and I made the game time decision to head to the airport rather than cancel our whole vacation.

We hauled all of our stuff, which was a lot when traveling with an 8 month old, to the airport. We got there a half hour before our flight and they told us they couldn’t let us on. Newark airport requires you to arrive 45 minutes before your flight. So now we were at the airport, baby in Ergo, bags in hand and no flight. I was on about an hour of sleep, no food, fighting infection and… no flight. Mike asked if I just wanted to go home and cancel our trip and I was like oh no, we are here, we are packed, we’re going somewhere.

We talked to the airline and got on the later flight without change fees (woohoo!). But, we were still sitting 5 rows apart, each in middle seats, and we were on standby for our connecting flight. We figured worst case scenario, we could rent a car and drive from Houston to Austin. So we did it.

By the time we dealt with all of that, made it through security, hauled to a distant gate, changed Easton, fed Easton… It was time to board and I was still exhausted and starving. We got on the plane and Mike very nicely asked the woman sitting next to me if she’d trade seats with him so he could sit next to Easton and I. She not so nicely said that she was not sitting in a center seat for 4 hours, then proceeded to be the least helpful person for that 4 hour flight. I did not get up once because she wouldn’t move. Combine that with lack of food, sleep, infection and the fact that I’m flying with an infant and it was not something I’d want to do again. Thankfull the easiest part of this whole experience was….. Easton. He was a saint through it all and didn’t cry once all morning. I’m not lying.

We got off the flight from hell and hauled it to another terminal to pick up our connection. We were told there were no seats for us and we’d have to wait. I was actually relieved because I had to pee, eat, change Easton and feed Easton. I started to take things out of my diaper bag when surprise! They DID have seats for us, if we get on the plane right that second, without even closing up our stroller, with a baby dangling from my arms in a dirty diaper. I think I would have preferred to walk to Austin at that point.

It was the shortest flight in the history of the world (20 minutes) and I was able to change Easton on my lap, feed him and he passed out until the plane stopped moving. We finally made it to Austin many foodless and sleepless hours after the whole fiasco began. We met up with our friends and headed to our hotel, where I ate french fries and collapsed for 2? 3? hours.

Thankfully, the rest of our trip was smooth sailing, even though we were traveling with two 8 month olds and a 2 year old. Easton loved meeting his friends and he and Hadley are only 10 days apart. They somehow stayed on basically the same eating and sleeping schedule, so it made our outings easier.

That being said, we hit up the kid circuit of Austin. And ate lots of food inbetween. I had so many breakfast tacos it is embarassing, but they were unbelievable. I love a city that’s full of brunch and non-chain restaurants.

Easton had a week of firsts, which he mostly slept through. First was his first trip to the zoo.

Then we went to the children’s museum where he was due for a nap, but I made him play in the infant section for 5 minutes. His face says it all.

Then he went to sleep, but woke up just in time for brunch.

Note to self: Dolman sleeve shirts add 100lbs.

We also took Easton to the park for the first time that he could actually enjoy it. It was 75 degrees in Austin on Sunday so the fresh air felt wonderful.

He got to experience swings for the first time. I’m pretty sure he loved the 5 minutes he was in it.

This is pretty much the only time all vacation that we busted out the big camera.

Naps and feedings in the van made up most of our trip (we rented a giant church style van to accomodate 3 car seats and 4 adults)

We really just went with the flow and enjoyed the weather and city. I didn’t shop because I knew I couldn’t bring anything home. I just ate a lot because I knew my belly had a large storage capacity…

We reluctantly came back to NJ and it’s 15 degree weather on Monday. Our flight home was thankfully uneventful, but both Easton and I ended up with colds. Easton’s popped up just yesterday, so he’s still fighting it more so than I am. It’s his first time being sick and even though the doctor said it’s just nasal congestion, seeing him uncomfortable sucks. All of those Clorox wipes on the plane failed me!

My advice for those flying with an infant?

1) Don’t miss your flight and get stuck sitting alone, in a center seat. This was my carry on…

I was able to reach down and grab Sophie, with Easton on my lap, not bumping into my reluctant neighbor and that was it. I couldn’t get into my bag. Easton didn’t get changed (because I couldn’t get up either). Thankfully Mike came up and got him and entertained him for a bit.

2) Get an Ergo, it’s a lifesaver. Even boarding a plane is much easier when you have two free hands. You don’t realize how long it takes people to get situated in their seats until you’re waiting behind them with a 22lb infant on your hip and a carry on in your other arm.

3) Pack hard toys and Clorox wipes.

I didn’t bring any stuffed animal type of toys because I wouldn’t be able to clean them on the go. On the way back, Easton did play with his books and toys and I kept the disinfecting wipes on hand.

4) Puffs work wonders.

Maybe it’s just my kid, but he’ll do anything for a single puff. It worked well on the way back, until Mike dropped the entire supply I packed all over the floor. Whoops.

5) If you use a Boppy, get a travel one.

Easton is a big guy so I couldn’t imagine nursing him 6x a day, for multiple days, without one. It was also great for the plane and adding extra lap space, especially when I had to sit next to a woman that would not move. The travel Boppy zips up into a shoulder bag, which was easy to clip onto another bag or throw over the stroller handle. I kept it in the hotel once we were there and wished I brought it everywhere!

6) Gate check a stroller.

We originally weren’t going to do this and got the travel bag for our UppaBaby Vista. But the airline was going to charge us to check the stroller at the desk, so we kept it with us to save money. When we had to haul ourselves across the airport to pick up our connecting flight, we were thankful we had it to give our bodies a break. We still put it in the bag to protect it and took the wheels off, but at least we had it right away especially after the long day we had getting there.

7) Less is more.

I really packed minimally for both Easton and I and it worked out well. We brought our car seat and stroller, so the last thing we wanted to do was have more luggage than the two of us could carry. We still had a lot of crap but we were able to manage it well.

8) Be flexible.

Things will go wrong, naps will be missed, bed time will be screwed up and your kid will poop at the worst time, but none of that matters. As long as you’re all happy and enjoying your trip, you’ll be fine. And we were and we did.

I’m so happy that we managed to actually make it to Austin despite my rough start. Easton was phenomenal through the whole trip. Good thing, because guess who is going to the Haven Conference in Atlanta in August? Yes, Mr. Easton is Well, I’m going to the actual conference and Mike and Easton will be tagging along. At least now we have some flight experience under our belts. Which means the next trip will be a living hell, right?

Those hooks sat there for months until we faced the same dilemma in Easton’s room.  His room layout is a rectangle but the closet sticks out as you walk into the room leaving a space that is rather dead.  We wanted to utilize this area to hang random items; quite like the laundry room idea.  We went through some ideas from just mounting the hooks directly to the wall to buying one of those pre-made pieces of wood with hooks on them.

Both ideas just seemed lacking.  Random silver hooks on the wall?  Could work, but it just seemed too plain.  The pre-made idea would work, but we wanted something to really tie into the rest of the room.

The wall behind E’s crib is paneled and all white.  Why not extend this idea to the area when you walk into his room?  After all, I had a ton of wood left over since, well, I can’t measure (but that’s a story for another day).

So I ventured out to cut two straight pieces in order to make a joint in the corner.  From there it was some paint and attach the hooks.

Neither one of us were really sold on the hooks within E’s room.  We love the metal, of course, but the size feels a bit on the larger side.  Did we need to go so big?  I’m not sure; probably because his stuff is so tiny.  I’m sure with a couple of years and book-bags, sports gear and so forth, we’ll be looking to add even more hooks.  So perhaps these hooks will be just fine as Easton grows.

It was such a simple project that added functionality to an area of the room that otherwise would be useless (besides an opening for the door to swing, duh).  And plus, super cheap.  Left over wood from a previous project + left over white paint + roughly $10 for the hooks ($2.50 x 4).

Note to self: change those damn gold door knobs and hinges. 

And he’s starting to look, and act, like a little boy.

This is the first photoshoot of his that I missed. We didn’t get a chance to take these over the weekend so Mike did them during the week. We were down one man to make the model giggle, so he’s quite serious this time around.

We switched to a long sleeved onesie this month because a) it’s more weather appropriate b) he outgrew the 3 month onesies he’d been wearing up until this point and c) I didn’t see a point in buying a short sleeved pack just for the sake of these pictures. Oh and that long sleeved onesie he’s wearing? 9 months. He skipped a size since I crammed him in the 3 month one for his last picture.

We also changed up the style of the text on the pictures. We were never consistent with the size and style of the text when we typed out the word “month”, so they all had to be redone anyway. I figured just the number was enough and easier to see when all of the pictures are side by side.

Back to Easton. Do you see that hair? The serious expressions? Don’t let those fool you, he is the happiest kid ever. He has recently developed a real giggle and it’s the cutest thing ever. It always comes out when you kiss his belly and more recently, when we fly him around like an airplane or he bounces in his Jumperoo. Total infant these days.

It’s not just giggles and fun he has developed, he has also become so affectionate. When he sees me he literally hugs me now– his little arm wraps around my neck and he squeezes tight. He also loves to slobber all over my face as kisses. Sometimes he combines the two and wraps his arms around my neck, pulls me in and proceeds to eat my face and giggle. God I love that kid.

It’s been such a big month for him maturity wise and until I saw these pictures, I had no clue how much he had grown.

He’s growing up so fast already and I forget what those skinny newborn legs were like.

Happy four months champ!

Easton’s personality has really started to show.  He does this thing we call the “shy smile” where he’ll quickly smile at you and then turn away as if he’s being bashful.  He does it hardcore style when Rebecca comes home from work.  He even does this excited thing with his arms to go along with the “shy smile.”

Our little guy has definitely discovered his hands and fingers.  He loves to shove them into his mouth along with anything else he can get his hands on including toys and blankets.

Three months in and for the most part our fur-babies are mostly over Easton.  For the longest time, Diggy would come running to Easton’s aid whenever he cried.  But now, they barely raise their heads in concern.  I think they thought he’d be another warm body that feeds and plays with them.  Not yet my little fur-babies, not yet.  While they’re over the NEW! baby, they’re certainly not over Rebecca and I.  I still wake up with a cat sleeping on my head and a cat on my feet.  I swear these cats are more work than Easton!

Happy 3 months champ!

Just a heads up, I try to post daily pictures of Easton in our more family related blog, Macky&Company. 

Mike started SongMeanings when he was a teenager and has worked diligently on it for over 10 years. Once it became profitable, (many many years into it) we knew that when we had kids, Mike would quit his full-time gig and be a work-at-home parent. I wanted something like that for myself and I knew that the only way to get there was to not sit around and complain about it, but to bust my ass for it.

So I did something about it and started this little place on the internet three years ago. At the time, I had no clue there were other home blogs out there– I was seriously living in a hole. It was only after I started this that someone told me about Young House Love. It discouraged me at first, but Mike has been my biggest support system from day one. He told me that the beauty of the internet is that there isn’t just one site on a topic– there are many and many can be successful. So I kept chugging away and loved it more and more each minute.

The first day that I had 100 visitors I got a little misty eyed. I remember running up the stairs and telling Mike that people liked it– I could not believe that strangers were finding me. It was and continues to be incredibly rewarding to write this blog. The high I get off of coming up with a great idea, finishing a project or seeing one of my projects pop up on Pinterest is more than enough to keep me going. Which is good because as anyone who has a blog knows, it takes a long, long, long time to make any profit off of it. I knew this, as it took Mike probably a good 6 years of hard work and dedication to ever see a paycheck from SongMeanings.

Last summer, Mike and I decided to have a baby way sooner than we thought we would. The decision is another story for another post, but it also happened way sooner than we thought it would. Suddenly I was left with a semester of graduate school, pregnant and trying to keep up with this blog. I knew my dream of working on this full-time to be home with our future children was slipping away. Okay, it took a giant plummet.

I was, and still am, okay with that. My mentality has always been that I chose the career I have now and if I want something different, it’s up to me to change it. It’s been a lot of blood, sweat and tears, I’ve been discouraged a lot, but my forever confidence boosting husband has assured me that writing this blog is good for me. It has become so much more to me than a website that I make (very) little money from.

With all of that out in the open, we obviously welcomed Easton in May. I was fortunate enough to have 12 weeks home with him, since I got the standard 6 weeks of disability and NJ is 1 of 3 states that offers an additional 6 weeks of paid maternity leave (don’t even get me started on US maternity leave…) Which means I went back on Wednesday of last week.

Walking out the door that first day was beyond painful. I cried through the morning rendition of “If you’re happy and you know it” (Easton still laughed, he had no sympathy for me), I cried as I handed him off to Mike for his morning nap (which used to be my extra 2 hours of sleep with him), I kissed him and stared at him about 20 times before I actually got out the door.

Then I got to work…and I felt okay. I know how lucky we are. I didn’t have to drop Easton off at daycare. He is home with the only person who loves him just as much as I do and I couldn’t ask for more. Mike sent me texts, pictures and videos all day. There wasn’t a minute of the day when I didn’t know what Easton was doing. The first day I went home a little early and I left at 2.

That night when I got Easton to sleep, my ribs hurt. Then my back hurt. I figured I was just completely drained from the day, but the next morning, I was still dragging myself around in pain. First I thought I must have pulled a muscle, then I thought I hurt myself carrying Easton in the Moby wrap the day before, then I thought I must be getting sick, but I had no other symptoms. Throughout the day, I was told I looked like a tired new mother, which couldn’t be further from the truth because Easton was sleeping 11 hour stretches at night. Then one of my coworkers brought up the idea of mastitis.

By the next morning, I couldn’t lift Easton out of his crib and I knew that was what it was. I didn’t pump much over those 12 weeks at home since I hated it and it was easier to feed Easton myself. The last several weeks, I made it a point to have Mike give him a bottle a day so that he’d be used to drinking from it. He did well and my only concern all along was him. I never thought of the effect that pumping would have on me. It was only my third day back to work and I had to take a very precious day off and lay in bed all day.

All of the progress I felt like I made that first day back went out the window. I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to continue to breastfeed, which then would give me even less time with Easton. I never thought I’d be one of those people so incredibly attached to nursing my baby and the thought of losing it was depressing, on top of feeling like crap all weekend. Many tears were shed about whether I made the right decision returning. I was mad at myself for not working harder at this blog to get to where I wanted to be.

Ever the supportive husband, Mike told me numerous times in the past week that he would go back to working a 9-5 job in addition to working on SongMeanings at night. But that is not the answer for us. The arrangement we have now works best for ALL of us and not just me. It’s not about me– it’s about Mike’s happiness and Easton’s happiness as well.

I had to start the return to work process again on Monday. This second time around was worse than the first. On top of the usual stresses, I had to make sure I was taking care of myself and pumping often.

It’s hard to keep my health in mind when my days have been non-stop. I try to get up before Easton does (around 5) to get myself completely ready so that I have time to play with him before he gets sleepy again. Once he starts rubbing his eyes, I pass him to Mike for their morning nap together and I leave. This works out well because Mike usually works until 2am and he’s able to catch an extra hour or two of sleep. I try to get out the door by 7, to get to work by 7:30. My job has an 8.5 hour workday to account for lunches. I skip lunch away from my desk and instead pump 3-4 times a day. One of my coworkers came by yesterday and told me how nice it must be to come to work and have a break. Yeah, some break!

I leave by 4 since Easton goes to bed at 7. I get so excited driving home and he has been so excited to see me. Really, I had no clue a 3 month old would react with giggles, flying arms and tight hugs. When bedtime rolls around, if he’s not in bed by 7 he gets pissed. We didn’t set the 7pm bedtime, he did. If I don’t leave by 4, like if I get in later than 7:30 in the morning, I miss precious afternoon time with him.

Which happened yesterday since I ended up having to pump at home in the morning. I got home around 5 and Easton was crashing by 6:30. I gave him a bath and rocked him to sleep. Once I put him in his crib and looked down on him, I cried my eyes out. There was just not enough time with him.

So I walked down the stairs and Mike saw me crying… again. He once again offered to go back to working an additional 9-5, but I told him to stop being ridiculous. I told him just need time to be sad, and I don’t know how much time. Maybe a day, maybe a week, maybe 18 years.

I got up and repeated the process yesterday, despite the fact that Easton has started waking up in the middle of his 11 hour stretch of sleep (bad timing, buddy). It was a little smoother and I got home early enough for loads of play time and cuddles.

As I left work, I ran into my boss’s, boss’s, boss. Yeah, someone quite a few levels above me. She asked me how it was being back and I said it was good, but I missed Easton. She told me that one of the VPs of the company said that when her son was born, she would go out to the parking lot to cry.

Ever since then I feel better. Often times, people think of a mother returning to work as a black and white issue– either you can or you can’t, you want to or you don’t want to, it feels right or it feels wrong. In reality, the issue is one giant grayscale full of emotions and even the most successful of women are not immune. Just because it doesn’t feel right doesn’t mean that it’s wrong. Just because some days you can, doesn’t mean that some days you can’t.

Maybe someday I’ll be able to make some tweaks, build my own business and work from home alongside Mike. Until then, it’s okay to feel sad and cry every now and then– I think it would be strange if I didn’t.

I know this wasn’t very house related, but I hope that sharing my experiences helps someone else out there. We’re hoping to get back on the project wagon once things calm down a bit. Until then, you can follow daily Easton pictures over at Macky & Co (which Mike finally caught up with!) and follow me on Instagram @lilhousecould. Thanks for reading

Can I tell you how much I love this baby? He has so much personality and it’s just such a great one. He has so many great expressions…

Every morning now I wake up to that smile. He’s been waking up and just cooing until I wake up. When I make eye contact with him, I get the biggest smile. The coos, the smiles, the giggles (which sound like a hur-hur) are so much fun. Sometimes he goes on and on with his two favorite noises, the owl (who-who) and the iGoo. Mike and I often wonder how we got such a chatty kid when the two of us are pretty quiet.

He had his two month check up today and he weighed in at 15lbs and 24 inches. He is seriously 2 months old and weighs 15lbs already?? The man loves his milk

By Easton’s 3 month post, I will be back at work full-time. I cannot believe I have only 3 weeks left at home with him and I’m trying to soak them up. As much as I want to ease him into the transition, I also cannot resist the urge to cuddle and kiss him all day long while I can.

Happy 2 months bub-bub! Now stop growing up so fast…

Of course, I couldn’t choose just one picture of him from his mini-photo shoot to share.

Mike did a little monthly recap over at our family blog, Macky & Co, so I’ll spare you some of his monthly deets*. Mike’s also been posting daily pictures of Easton, since I can barely keep up with blogging here. Though I’ve threatened to take over Macky & Co when he falls behind or I have to send him pictures from my phone. You know, since I take like 20 pictures of Easton per day. No, I’m not obsessed…

In a nutshell, the first month has been nothing short of amazing. Everyone tells you to enjoy it and that it goes so fast, but that you’ll be too sleep deprived and stressed to realize it until it’s over. I think we’ve been soaking it all up with well, minimal stress. We’re very lucky in that we’re both home, so we can switch baby duty if we’re feeling tired or overwhelmed. But really, with the exception of some fussy and cluster feeding days here and there, having a baby has been….fun. And I’m not lying.

Easton started smiling this month and it was as great as everyone says. At one point, I was changing him in a tired daze at 5am, talking to him as usual but looking as his feet. I looked up at him after wrestling his feet back into his pajamas and he was staring at me with the world’s biggest smile on his face. It could have turned even the toughest person to mush.

Each week gets easier as he adjusts to life on the outside. We no longer have to burrito wrap him and walk around the house going pretending we’re a white noise machine to get him to sleep. He somehow figured out his days and nights and has been an excellent sleeper from day one, but is going for longer and longer stretches at night. He’s happy just hanging out with us while we eat dinner, whether sitting in his rock n’ play or on one of our laps.

We took these pictures last week (on his 1 month birthday) and he’s already grown so so much. He had a major growth spurt in the past 2 days or so, which I am certain of because he ate every 2 hours around the clock for a day. In the end, his 0-3 month Old Navy chevron pajamas no longer fit as of tonight. He grew a belly and some rolls around his wrists. This guy is growing like a weed.

Mike and I spend most of our days hanging out with him and we don’t get much done until he’s asleep for the night. We just enjoy being with him so much that our house is pretty filthy, we rarely cook real meals (tonight it was mac and cheese for the win) and we watch way too much HGTV and that American gypsy show. With both of us home, you’d think we’d be a little more productive than that, though Mike has been better than me and whipped up that window seat in the office

But I don’t think our lack of productivity is something we’ll regret 5, 10 or 20 years from now. We’ll remember all of the time we were able to spend as the 3 of us, camped out on the couch all day.

Happy one month on the outside, bub bub!

*Yeah, I ended up sharing monthly deets anyway. I told you I’m obsessed

I woke up on Monday the 21st at 5am with what I was certain was a contraction. Up until this point (one day shy of 41 weeks), I hadn’t felt any contractions. I had a feeling this was the beginning of labor, but I had no clue how long it would take (I REALLY had no clue how long it would take, but more about that later), so I didn’t tell anyone. In fact, that morning I sat down to write the post about our painted bookcase, because I knew it might be a while before I could write a post. At that point, I was only having about 2 contractions an hour.

Mike and I relaxed for the day and I tried to stock up on sleep as everyone says to, but it is nearly impossible to sleep when you’re being hit with contractions. As soon as I would doze off for a half hour, I would wake up with a contraction. This went on all day long. We headed to the mall to walk around for a few hours to keep things moving. Then finally around 11pm, the contractions started getting closer and closer. Just in time for bed, excellent.

Funny side story, the hospital I was delivering at, University Medical Center at Princeton, was opening a much anticipated new hospital on the 22nd at 7am. At 4am, my contractions were about 5 minutes apart. I was told that if I went into labor before 7am, I would go to the old hospital, after I would go to the new one. Mike and I were laughing at our funny luck that in the middle of the night, we had no clue what hospital we would go to. We didn’t even tour the new hospital because, well, I assumed I would be in the old one.

So I went all night with contractions between 5-7 minutes apart. I was told to go to the hospital around 4 minutes apart or when I could no longer take the pain. So I waited and waited. Then 7am passed and we knew we’d be delivering in the new hospital. Then I waited. Then I had a regular appointment at 10am that I never thought I would make it to. Now we were at 29 hours since that first contraction and one night without sleep. I trucked into my scheduled appointment and told them I thought I was in labor.

They hooked me up to the fetal monitor as scheduled, since I was 41 weeks and they wanted to make sure everything was okay with the baby. The monitor showed my contractions were still about 7 minutes apart. Then when the midwife checked me, her reaction shocked me. I was 5 cm dilated.

Holy crap.

We took a childbirth class with one of the midwives in our practice and my goal was well, to go to the hospital as late as possible. I did not want to hang out there and I knew I’d be uncomfortable. So the midwife was seriously impressed by my accomplishment and told me to go back home and wait as long as I could. She said that they would admit me to the hospital now, but if I didn’t want any unnecessary medical interventions, I should continue to labor at home for as long as I could. She told me I’d be having a baby that night and if I went home for a little longer, I could get to the hospital at 8 cm and have a quick and easy delivery. Of course, that was my goal all along.

Mike and I grabbed breakfast and still told no one. I knew at about 30 hours into this already, it could be much longer (very very smart of me to assume this….) Then I went back home.

For SEVEN hours.

Problem was, my contractions still weren’t very close. I didn’t know what to do because I was drained. I hadn’t slept, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat and I knew I had a long road ahead of me. We tried to walk around the neighborhood and my legs felt like they weighed 100 lbs, so around 5:30, I called the midwife and she told me to head to the hospital. So we gathered our things, kissed the cats goodbye and headed out. Oh, and we finally told our families we were going to the hospital.

I get to the brand spanking new hospital that has only been open for a few hours and I’m immediately swarmed with people. It was actually a little overwhelming. I thought when you were in labor, no one really took you seriously. I was in a room within 2 minutes of arriving. I guess calling ahead and being at 5 cm 7 hours before helped…

So we’re there, we’re going to have a baby, I’ve been in labor for like 36 somewhat hours, and the moment of truth comes. The midwife checks me and I’m at…. 5 cm. All day long nothing had happened. It was really, really upsetting. At this point, the midwife (who happened to be the one who taught our childbirth class), told me she wanted to break my water. I looked at her like she had 5 heads for a minute because this went against everything she herself taught me. I guess she caught on to my confusion and she continued on, telling me that it had already been a very long time and that I had a very long way to go and I was already tired. She went on to tell me that sometimes these things happen and it’s nothing I did wrong or anything, that sometimes you just have to give up control. I think if anyone else, even another one of the midwives told me this, I would have fought it, but I trusted her opinion. So my water was broken probably within 20 minutes of getting to the hospital.

Then things calmed down a bit. The team of nurses left my room, I was able to get out of bed and walk around a bit. Mike and I walked the hallways and I stocked up on some juice. I really had no appetite, but the midwife gave me some graham crackers and told me I had to eat if I planned on pushing this baby out. So I drank mass amounts of juice and walked and walked. I have no idea how much time passed at this point (there was wisely no clock in the room). When the midwife came to check me again, I was at…. 6 cm.

I was seriously having the slowest labor ever. She then told me that she thought I needed pitocin, another no no from childbirth class. I knew it would make my contractions stronger and harder and I was trying to wait on the epidural for as long as I could. I wanted to be able to walk and move to have gravity on my side and keep the baby working it’s way out. She said she didn’t think I needed a lot of pitocin, so I should try it and then see if I wanted the epidural. So that’s what I did.

I also remembered from my childbirth class that even when you ask for an epidural, it usually takes a while for the anesthesiologist to come administer it. So as I was tired and frustrated and the contractions started to kick in, I asked for the epidural. I knew I could continue to take the pain, but I figured I’d already had so many interventions that I might as well be pain free.

The epidural sucked, as expected, and made me throw up immediately. This was one reason why I was trying to avoid it because a) I don’t do well with medicines and b) I hate being sick and not having control of my body. It was really worse than the pain in the beginning with all of the wires and monitors I had to be on (plus not being allowed to drink water), but once it kicked in, it was nice to relax. The midwife turned off the lights in our room and told me to sleep for a few hours. Mike and I started to watch Crazy Stupid Love and it was something like 2 or 3 am at this point.

Just as I started to doze off, I was hit with a ridiculous amount of pressure, pain and uncontrollable shaking. I then started throwing up again. I didn’t know what it was, but I called the nurse. After a few minutes, she called the anesthesiologist back and he gave me some sort of a booster pain medicine. Then my body relaxed once again and I tried to sleep. Around 6am (49 hours after that first contraction) I was at 10cm, but the baby was still sitting pretty high so the midwife told me to wait it out until I felt I was ready to push.

I was just getting the urge to push when I was hit with the uncontrollable pain, shaking and vomiting again. This time I called the nurse immediately and she called the anesthesiologist, who gave me 2 more of those booster pain meds. He was shocked that the first round didn’t work because he said that it should have made me pretty numb. My left leg was completely dead and my right side was feeling contractions. The 2 boosters didn’t work at all and I continued to shake and throw up for what felt like forever. I was pretty scared at this point because the shaking and pain were overriding that urge to push I was feeling. I knew I couldn’t push feeling like that, since I couldn’t even stop throwing up long enough to focus. I also thought that if it came down to me needing a c-section, they would probably have to knock me out since I had feeling on my right side. I really had no clue how they were going to get my baby out.

Then the anesthesiologist told me they’d have to re-do my epidural, at hours past 10cm. So they restarted the process and I couldn’t even stop throwing up long enough for them to do it. I just had to stay as still as possible.

Finally the second epidural worked. Around 9ish, the urge to push came back. At this point I was excited and determined to get this baby out. He was still sitting very high, so the midwife didn’t want me pushing just yet because she said I’d end up pushing for a very long time. But I wanted to push, I was begging to push. So she told me that I could do just a few practice pushes to see if I could get the baby down on my own. She said she’d give me 15 minutes and with each contraction, to just push a little, but not too hard. She left the room and I pushed whenever I felt like I had to. When she came back, the baby had dropped. I wasn’t messing around.

It was now time to officially start pushing and I pushed and pushed. The first hour went so fast that I had no clue it had been an hour until I overheard someone say it. With every push, I seriously thought the baby was coming out. My nicely blow dried hair turned into a sopping wet mop of sweat and I couldn’t stop chugging water. Mike kept putting a cold towel on my head because it felt like it was a million degrees in the delivery room.

Once the little monster started coming out, we learned that he was posterior, or face up. It took a little extra effort to get him out, but after about 2 hours of pushing and 56 total hours of labor, Easton Max was born at 12:05pm on May 23rd.

When he came out, he didn’t cry. He was quickly rushed away and Mike didn’t get to cut his cord. He was born 17 hours after my water was broken and had apparently swallowed some stuff in that time. The midwife assured me that he was fine and was just a little startled. Within a few minutes, he was crying and regaining his color.

I heard some nurses say that he was big, but since I hadn’t had an ultrasound since 20 weeks, I had no clue how big he was. Turns out he was 8 1/2 lbs!

As soon as he was born, Mike and I could not believe how cute he was. Even as he looked at us while the nurses worked at him on the warmer, he had the cutest little expressions.

It’s been 10 12 days since Easton was born (this took a few days to finish). While we’re tired and we’ve had our moments (mostly over breastfeeding issues, not Easton issues), we are seriously in love with the little guy. My recovery was rough for a few days since I was so sore and swollen that I couldn’t get up and down the stairs, but after about a week I started to feel much better. Pushing out an 8 & 1/2 pound baby made me feel like I pulled every single muscle in my body, including my arms and neck. But he was totally worth it and I still can’t believe that this little face came from me.

The cats love Easton too and we are so impressed by their responses.

They don’t even flinch when he cries and the three of them still follow us around the house and want to be near ALL of us. It’s like they think Easton has always been a part of our family, which is a huge relief.

At his first pediatrician’s appointment, Easton surpassed his birth weight in less than a week. This was a huge relief to this breastfeeding mom and we got the go ahead to let him go 4 hours between feedings at night. It’s been pretty nice to sleep 3 hours at a time at night, so I finally feel like I’m getting back into my groove with feeling better and getting some sleep. Hopefully this means I can squeeze in some nursery posts during the week, though it may take me all day to write just one

Welcome to the world, my little baby E.