You really otter visit the VLM...

... like we did yesterday!

Hanging with our buddies at the Virginia Living Museum

Yesterday was sunny and not bitterly cold, so headed over the VLM with some of our favorite folks to visit some of our favorite animals. Best picture of the day goes to the wolves though...

Lanaux and P. Lanaux

The meeting of the name sake- a very special moment for us all.

I am toying with names like Lanaux 2.0, Lanaux Now: Redux, and Lanaux: Beyond the Thunderdome. With a namesake like this lady, you better have a big-bang nickname on hand. Something cinematic and chromatic. And it's gotta have chutzpah! The phone lines are now open.

Thanks for the visit!

Well...

...last night equally long, if not longer. However, the crying was never zero volume. I will take active over fussy any day. Hands down.

Gripe, gripe, gripe

Yes, we have resorted to Gripe Water. Nights are getting longer and more stressful. I am desperately hoping this homeopathic route will give the little ladybug some relief. If not, we are on to an elimination diet (for me) and a trip to the doctor (for her). Last night, during a brief but intense crying jag, I relayed to youngster that sleep deprivation helps no one. I could swear I saw her roll her eyes ever so briefly.

Have I mentioned how tired I am these days? So very tired. In fact, I've napped the past two days without choice- meaning that my brain officially shuts off around 3 pm. Thankfully, those 45 minutes of power snoozing are making the early evenings more tolerable. However, one look at my face reveals the fact that I the far from rested. Caught my reflect earlier, would have sworn there was an errant geographical feature resting under my eyes. Sadly, those are just my bags steadily creeping toward my mouth. Perhaps they are headed in that region in an attempts to engage Penelope in some negotiations. Good luck with that.

My tank is near empty. Praise Jesus for maternity leave... because this is the only thing I can handle right now. Motherhood is more than a lifestyle; it's a livesstyle.

Penelope: One Month

Hey Munchkin- Your mommy loves you!

Taking a Grandpa Nap

Looking Like a Weigel...

... at least we think so.

Kisses

More of the Music Man

Enough of the paparazzi!

A Naturally Occurring Faux-Hawk

She already looks like a miniature Top Chef competitor.

Too cute.

How many kids do you know that already have a bestie by age three weeks???

In 18 years I fully expect to be having the "No, you cannot go to Beach Week" conversation with these two ladies. Penelope is on the left, and Phoebe is on the right. And I've already caught Penelope trying to text Phoebe while she thought I was sleeping. Luckily, she has yet to learn how her hands work, and even the fact that those hands are hers, so she was unable to complete her message.

I'm guessing that we are going to have a Jesse & Andy re-make, only with more pink and dolls and less firecrackers and skateboards. I could be wrong about the skateboards. And the firecrackers, too. Here's hoping I am not.

FAQ: the Penelope Edition

True to form, I have many questions constantly swirling around in my brain- like a whirlpool of quasi-facts and speculations looking to scarf down one Katherine Hepburn. So the FAQ's are for me... this is what is on the front burner.

During our two week infant check-up (last Monday), I asked out pediatrician if she saw any signs of Down syndrome in Penelope. Not that I suspect her of having Ds, it's just that we are entering some temporally familiar territory, and I wanted to give the doc a chance to share any concerns sooner than later. I even premised my questions with a smart smile, a quip about not wanting any later surprises, etc., etc., all the while holding my breath. I shared with her that we didn't see anything of concern, yet. I did note that Penelope has a unilateral (one hand) palmar crease- but that was the only marker I could detect. After a close examination, doc said we have nothing to worry about. Regardless, I asked if we should go ahead and have a karyotype done- to this the doc also said no- everything looks fine. For the most part, I have let it go, but with her two month check-up looming in the near future, I can't help but fight off some lead-hearted flashbacks. Those three year old memories still sting my heart, as do the tears that occasionally sneak up when I re-read his diagnosis post.

Good initial reports aside... we are going to have Penelope seen by the cardiologist during Miles' upcoming annual check-up. Since his heart defect was so difficult to detect, we all agreed (doc included) that this screening would be a good idea. On a side note, Miles' appointment is starting to weigh on my mind, too. This could be the time when we learn that he's headed into the cath lab for some follow-up work. There is a chance that the webbing has returned, and that a cath will be needed to correct the stenosis. Granted, this was only speculation at his last appointment- so I am only worrying about the unknown at this juncture. I will update when I know more. Additionally, I will try not to worry about this event (and other stressful nuggets) which is out of my control. (If I had a dollar for each time I've stated this...)

Deep breath. Moving on.

Okay, now it's time for my less serious and relatively inappropriate questions:

1. Why does her poop smell like movie theater popcorn? Seriously, it does- and not in a good way. Chances are that I will never order it again. Stronger chances of me not making it to a movie in the next 5 years. The correlating color of said poop doesn't help the comparison.

2. Does my left boob taste better than my right boob? She certainly seems to act that way. Perhaps the left boob has movie theater buttery goodness hiding inside. That would explain number one.

3. What's up with all of the giggling during sleep? Okay- it is the cutest thing EVER, but I want to see her giggle while she's awake. I want to know what is so funny because I could really go for a good laugh right about now.

4. Does she accept bribes? At this point, I am willing to buy her a pony if she's willing to sleep more at night and less during the day. A pony. With ribbons and sparkles and glitter and a princessy name to boot.

5. How can I make bath a more enjoyable experience? She treats bathing like an excursion into water-boarding territory. I use my most soothing vocal tones, warm waters, and California Baby products (which even mellow me out just being in their proximity). Bathing, especially with bubbles and stack of tabloids, is a girl's best friend. Maybe we need a subscription to OK! and Look!.

I'm off to run a bath using the under-appreciated California Baby Soothing Wash and collect a stack of magazines. What I am lacking in tabloids I will be replacing with Ready Made and Better Homes & Gardens. Though the impact may not be the same, I am sure my tired body will appreciate the effort. Sigh.

Sleepy Time

New Camera= Experimental Video

This is just a test... a very cute test.

Me & Julio (Dada and DiDi) Down by the School Yard

Parallel Play?

These were taken after he loaded her chair with the animals (see below). I am counting this as parallel play, or perpendicular play. Close and peaceful proximity counts, right? Ahhh... siblings! She just needs to learn to love trains- according to Miles.

Sleeping Beauty

Maintaining such high levels of cuteness is exhausting, apparently.

Slumbering

It's nearing 8 pm, and the wee one has been asleep most of the day. We're talking a solid 98% of our waking hours she's been zonked, carving zzzzzzz's out of stone. Now I am getting anxious- when will the daily wake fest happen??? Seeing that I, yet again, blew off any chance of a mommy nap- this could easily turn into a long night. Wish me (and all those in ear range) luck. Little one's lungs seem to be amplified in the later hours.

In other sleep related news, Miles has now officially adopted de-robing as his new nap-time ritual. On three separate occasions, I had to go into his room and help him back into his diaper and pants. Three times. And once he was finally out- he was back down to only his t-shirt. As long as the diaper is empty, this is pretty fun.

Navel Gazing and Whatnots

Admittedly, bringing home a second child is infinitely less daunting and stressful than the first round. Experience shows that babies are more resilient than they appear on first glance and hold. In fact, you learn quite quickly that they are mini-spitfires, chock full of loud sounds and potent powers. For example, my delicate flower of a daughter turns into a milk fiend, a roving and rooting lactose leech. And if the supply isn't ready, she turns into a banshee. And I mean that with all the love in my heart.

I have yet to call the 24 hour nurse line (a HUGE deal). I've only taken her temperature once. And I've only referenced the "What to Expect in First Month" chapter ten times (give or take another ten). Though I am concerned about her navel... the cord popped out on my finger two nights ago while changing her diaper. After my initial yetching reaction and squeal, I assessed the situation. Everything looks okay, but there was a little blood. And a little more dried blood this morning. I am trying to keep my cool and refrain from personally diagnosing her as having an umbilical hernia.

Penelope's still a mystery. Her schedule is not a schedule, and my attempt to make one keeps getting flung back in my face. For example, there is absolutely nothing soothing about the bathing process... yet. The moment her little tushy hits the bathing pad, she gives me an expression that reads, "What have you done??? I thought we were friends!"

(2010)

Miles took a while to warm-up to the notion of bathing. Let's take a quick peek in the past... Here's hoping Penelope become a water-baby like her big brother. Granted, he's a bit older in the picture below, but I am planning on sharing this with her as a form of positive visualization- Be one with the bath. Let it soothe you (so I can get some sleep).

(2008)

Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

I am literally coasting on fumes at this point. My little ladybug pulled another all-nighter and forming sentences that don't include milk, sleep, diapers, and angry nipples seems like a literary stretch. However, I want to make sure that I write Penelope's birth story before all those brain cells are lost to lack of sleep and a steady diet of granola bars and ice chips.

Unlike Miles' lightning labor and delivery process, Penelope's arrival spans several weeks. Looking over some of my earlier posts, it seems like "early labor" lasted forever. Prior to her birth date, I had been dilated 3 centimeters for well over a week. Even better, I was able to complete 98% of the "active labor" at home- but not intentionally. Here's the breakdown of the events.

First Came the Snow

December 26:

As we began to unwind from the present-fueled frenzy Miles underwent the day before, we watched the ground steadily collect a solid ten inches of snow. At the same time, a serious case of cabin fever kicked in. To help alleviate my stress, Jesse and I went on a drive while Miles played with his grandparents. While out and about in the white-out, I started to panic that I would be returning to work at the end of Winter Break, still pregnant and in pain. Luckily, I started having some mild contractions in the late afternoon- oddly enough at the downtown Green Leafe while picking up take-out for the fam. (Thank God I didn't have her there, though I bet I could have scored a new mug on the house.) At the time, I chalked them up to Braxton-Hicks, but it cracks me up to think I sat on a bar stool, counted out contractions while thinking back on how the times have changed.

The remainder of the evening progressed as usual, aside from the ever-mounting snow, aches, and pains. Dinner and bath routines went down as normal. There is a hilarious video of Miles and me floating around from this night- I was laid out on his bedroom floor (having back labor) while he uses me a human slide. Miles started on my shoulders and wiggled his way down my back- yelling sliiiiiii- during each trip down. And Jesse's role in the matter... to laugh and take footage on his phone.

We went to sleep around midnight, and there was no inkling in my mind that a baby would arrive in the near future. Seriously. I had been feeling this way for over a week, so why start to worry now? However...

December 27:

2:00 am: I wake up from a dream in which I am having contractions. Upon waking, I realize that these are real, I-have-to-breathe, contractions. Even they count as the real deal, they are not lasting 90 seconds. At best, they last 60 seconds and are coming anywhere between 3 to 5 minutes apart.

2:00- 3:00 am: To follow the doctor's orders, I make sure the contractions are present for at least an hour before calling the answering service. Wide awake and breathing like an asthmatic dragon, I have to find a way of silently passing this time. What's a girl to do? Obviously, I do my hair. Wiping out a digital timer and a curling iron, I sway, rock, and pant my way through a solid hour of hair curling. Folks have asked how my hair looked so good following Penelope's delivery- there's the answer. I swear to you that making barrel curls is the best way to dilate another 5 centimeters. Forget Lamaz; the future lies in the Pageant Hair Method. Go big, bold, spray it down, and then race to the hospital.

3:05 am: Barring the gory details, as soon as my hair is done- I go into transition. Ten minutes of solid purging, and I know that there's no turning back.

3:15 am: I reach the on-call doctor and get the green light to head into the hospital. Time to shock Jesse out of slumber and off to warm-up the car. He has no idea what's going on, but he's very adept at following directions whilst asleep.

3:45 am: Car finally cleaned off, grandparents are here to relieve us, and we begin our cautious trek (fabulous hair and all) to the hospital. The city roads are putting the ice capades to shame, but the interstate is clean. We arrive in about 20 minutes. Interestingly enough, I find Jesse's car a perfect spot to have intense labor- lots of handles to grab and surfaces to kick. Note: my water hasn't broken yet, so the upholstery is safe.

4:15 am: Hello ER! Following a triage check-in, where I threw my insurance card and license at the attendant and told her to read it herself. I tired to give a polite smile, but she may have missed it as I prowled around the waiting room. We head up to the delivery floor, but I refuse the wheelchair. Why wheel when I can walk this baby out, right? I only had to stop twice for air...

4:28 am: We breeze through the delivery triage and find that I am 7.5 centimeters at this point. I tell the nurse if they send me home I am planning on throwing myself down the stairs to ensure I can at least stay in the ER. Jesse knows I am joking, but she genuinely looks freaked out. I promptly get a private room across the hall. Note: the doctor has yet to show up, and I called an hour ago.)

4:35 am: Got the room. Lights are switched on. Playlist "Labor 2" has been turned on (it's all Motown), and a gaggle of anxious nurses are watching me kick into survival mode. I know that delivery time has arrived because I start shaking all over. "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" was playing at this point...

4:36 am: I calmly say, "You may not believe this, but I need to push." Fun legal note- nurses are not allowed to tell you to push, and they will tell you this when you shout "I have to push RIGHT NOW!" However, they can catch whatever little one may emerge. Note: Still no doctor.

I make it onto the bed and promptly remove the blood pressure cuff and pulse reader- in no way can I push with these items on. Thankfully, no one tries to reattach them. Furthermore, there was no time for an IV because removing that sucker myself would have hurt like the dickens. You should have seen me trying to pull my hair into a ponytail at this point...

4:40- 4:55 am: Rough 15 minutes of pushing. I have Jesse and the nurses adjust the bed, get the birthing bar, and bring me an oxygen mask. At one point, a nurse lowers a handle bar on which my leg had been resting. She does this as I am pushing through a contraction. Amazingly, I am able to bark out, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?" Magically, the handle bar returns in nanoseconds. Devine intervention keeps me from swearing, and the attending nurses are very helpful with counting (and unintentionally reminding me that the doctor still hasn't arrived). Jesse, my brave partner on my right, keeps me focused and updated on Penelope's progress. Right after my water breaks (better late than never), the little lady shoots out. Rene, my triage nurse, is there to catch her. Thank you, Rene!

4:55 am: Penelope Lanaux Thomas arrives weighing 7 pounds and 15 ounces. I would like to mention that there is a huge difference between naturally delivering a baby that weighs 5 pounds and one the weighs nearly 3 pounds more. Never let me wax poetic on the "magicalness" of the experience- this hurt like hell- but when you are done, you're done! Woo-hoo!

She arrived 7 tracks later, appropriately enough to The Supremes.

5:10 am: You'll never guess what happens now... the doctor arrives! I mumble something about not paying the practice, but Jesse quickly shoots me a "zip it" look. I clam up and continue to bask in my glory of my little one and limitless sea of euphoric endorphins. The doc decides to help me deliver the placenta, but I rob her of that job too and push it out while she's getting her gown tied on. Doctors? Where we're going we don't need doctors!

In a later post, I may want to vent about my concerns regarding the whole delivery situation. What if there had been a serious snag- what if Penelope's vitals started to drop? There was no one there who could have intervened... and we are baffled that an ER doc wasn't called up. Regardless, the attending nurses and my hubs were all very helpful and catered to my requests (demands). In retrospect, we are perfectly fine not having the doctor there- but we also know that we lucky in many, many, many ways- that we made it to the hospital on time, that the grandparents were on hand, and that there were no complications in Penelope's speedy arrival.

Now my little blizzard baby is over a week old- looking pink, plump, and pleased. She's a gift, a bundle of love and cuddles, and the perfect baby sister. Welcome home, ladybug. We've been waiting on you!