Thursday, May 10, 2012

Never Trust a Quiet Toddler

In the interest of accuracy/full disclosure I have to admit that this story is technically about a month old, BUT, I have been meaning to share it on here cause it's definitely one of those that I'm going to want to remember.

Evie and I (this was about two weeks pre-Cohen) were hanging out in my room.  I meandered into my bathroom to start doing my hair and Evie headed to her room where she began reading books.

Or so I thought.

After about ten fifteen minutes I realized I hadn't heard her in a while.  I started to head towards her room to make sure she and her books were doing ok, when I was greeted by this sight.

Yes.  That is homemade cinnamon syrup.  All.  Over.

I stopped short when I saw her.  Evie looked at me and said, "Spilled."  Umm.  Yeah.

My favorite girl had spilled an entire gravy boat's worth of syrup, and was proceeding to eat/smear it with her hands.  At that moment I realized I had two choices.  I could either laugh or cry well, really three choices because clearly I opted to run and get the camera, so I chose to laugh.  And laugh and laugh.  If nothing else, than from her simple explanation of what happened.  "Spilled."  Classic.  A month later and it still makes me laugh.


When it came time to clean up Miss Evie, the table, the chairs, and the carpet below her I wasn't laughing quite as hard. 


Wednesday, May 9, 2012

The Sunday Dinner Helper

I just had to post this picture because I love it too much not to.

Grandma Pam and Evie

Can you stand how cute that is?!  Me neither!

I also love how much it embodies about both of these chicks.  Evie with her now (in?)famous "cheese" face.  Being a helper.  To Betty Crocker.  Making Sunday dinner.


My Kiddo Turned 2!


 I don’t know when I’ll learn to stop writing posts with plans to finish them up “later that day.”  We all know I’m just not that on top of things.  I wrote this post on Saturday, April 29th with the intent of adding pictures to it before it went online.  Obviously I failed to add my pictures in a timely manner (unless you count ten days as timely), but I opted to leave the wording of the post as is.  Enjoy!

We celebrated Evie’s 2nd birthday today.  I can’t believe my baby girl is (almost) 2!  Her birthday isn’t really until May 1st, but I didn’t think the fam would be up for celebrating too hard core on a Tuesday, so we did it up BBQ style today.

I did a big party for her 1st birthday.  You know, one that involved invitations, homemade cake, and an actual theme.  But since she doesn’t care (what with her being 2 and all) I decided to keep this year low key and not really do a party.  I figured she doesn’t need a fancy-shmancy party every year, and I thought I’d cut myself some slack and save my post-partum self some stress by keeping things easy-peasy. 


I still wanted to celebrate her awesomeness, though, so I decided to do a family only barbecue at the park.  That guest list would typically constitute my parents, my in-laws, and Holly’s family, but kiddo’s celebratory weekend happened to fall so that we got to have Kem’s family and Garrett here as well.  I love that!  I loved having so many people around to celebrate and love Evie.  I’m aware that I’m not even kind of impartial, but that kid is ridiculously awesome and deserves to have lots of family around to spoil her.

We all gathered together at the park just south of our house where we ate, played, and opened gifts.  Evie loved having everyone there, and so did I.  I love our family so much.  It is SUCH a blessing to be such a close-knit family and to have so much family who live here!

Happy birthday, baby girl!  I love you to the moon!

Friday, May 4, 2012

An Addendum

I have to add an addendum to my last blog entry.  I would just edit my last blog, but I'm not sure if I do that if it will show that I posted today as opposed to the 22nd.  I suppose it wouldn't matter if it did, but I just don't want it to.  I wrote the birthing story post on April 22nd and I want my blog to reflect that.  Does that make me a complete weirdo?  I'm pretty sure it does, but I'm also pretty sure I don't care.

So, my addendum goes as follows...
Brant DID show up at my room before 10 o'clock.  He came around 9:15.  With Evie.  How did I forget that when I was writing out the day's events?  Not really sure, but I do know it made me feel like an inadequate mom who somehow favors her newborn over her first born.  I may be reading too much into it. 

Anyhoo, Brant and Evie came to visit me because I couldn't quite handle the idea of not seeing Miss Evie all day maybe I'm not the world's worst mom.  She, on the other hand, didn't really care.  They came into my room, and quite literally within three minutes of being there, Evie waved to me, told me "bye-be," and started heading out the door.  We made her stick around a little longer before Brant took her to my Dad's, but she wasn't thrilled with room 317 or the lack of excitement in it.

At least my girl is independent.  That's a good thing.  Right?

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Cohen Elway Boyer...Welcome to Team Awesome


Do I really have two kids?!  

Evie Francis & Cohen Elway



Cutest Big Sister and Little Brother





Apparently.

  

 Cohen Elway Boyer
April 16, 2012 3:08 p.m.
8 lbs. 14 oz. 22 ½ in.

 
Nearly every time I look down into this sweet boy’s face I can’t help but think to myself, “you were in my belly not technically true, but I rarely think the word “uterus” just days ago.  Hours, really.”  Surreal doesn’t even begin to describe what this new world of mine feels like so far.  Nor does adjustment seem to be an adequate word to describe the spin all of our lives on Team Boyer just took with the addition of one new little dude.
Team Awesome
So…how did all of our lives change so dramatically?  Here it is.  The birth story.  In all its infinite glory.   

**Disclaimer:  actual birth story may not be as dramatic as I may have just made it seem.**

I actually have not even reached my due date yet.  It is not until April 23, but at my last couple of doc appointments my blood pressure started climbing ever so slightly and the puffiness in my legs and feet was reaching super sexy proportions, so Dr. Benham decided we could go ahead and schedule the arrival of the new kid one week early.  This swollen, carpal tunnel ridden mama was more than inclined to agree.

At this point, I'm not fully decided on how I feel about being induced.  Don’t get me wrong.  I am not opposed to the idea of using medicine to get things rolling.  I’m talking about the actual idea of knowing when you’re going to go into labor.  Definite pros and cons.  Pro:  you know when you’re going into labor.  AKA you can shave your legs, have your bag packed as well as all the last minute things you have to throw in there, shower.  Con:  that last night is kind of tortuous.  My induction was scheduled for Monday the 16th.  So, I was told I would receive a call from the hospital sometime on that day to tell me when to come in.  That means I could theoretically receive a call anytime between the hours of midnight and midnight.  I knew I was first on the list of inductions that day, so I was pretty confident I would get a call around 6 a.m.  But you never know.

Needless to say, the anticipation of finally getting to meet the baby boy growing inside of me coupled with not knowing exactly when I would get the call made for a very restless night.  And that was probably the biggest con of all.  Instead of the last night being the last night I actually got to sleep, it turned into a night of repeated wake ups and not just to pee.

I ended up getting a phone call from the hospital at 4:20 a.m. asking me if I could come in at 6 a.m.  Brant and I had already decided that I could go to the hospital alone (sniff) so he could stay with Evie.  We figured that was an easier route than waking her to take her to my parent’s house or asking my dad to come over so early in the morning.  Not to mention that we knew the real action wouldn’t start in my first few hours at the hospital anyway.

Everything was pretty routine once I reached the hospital.  I changed into my supa sexy hospital issued nightgown and hung out in my bed.  I was given Pitocin at 6:50 a.m. to get things rolling, and my doctor came to check on me soon after.  At this point I was dilated to a 2 and was 80% effaced.  He came back at about 8 a.m. to check on me again and to break my water.  Now there’s a sensation!  I had to have my water broken manually when I was in labor with Evie, too, but I had already had an epidural that time.  This time I was able to feel it which was something I had (oddly?) kind of hoped for.  I just wondered what exactly it felt like.  I’m told it’s different for every woman and for every labor, but for me, this time, it was a HUGE gush of warm liquid flowing out of me.  It also continued to flow out of me during my next three potty visits too.  Wasn’t prepared for that.  Clean up in room 317.

Brant dropped off our wee one with Grandpa and made it to the hospital around 10:30 a.m.  Just in time to watch me get my epidural.  Side note:  I don’t think it’s possible to overstate the awesomeness that is an epidural.  For all you chicks who think it makes you more of a woman to give birth without one I mock you.  And it doesn’t.  Modern medicine is here to take advantage of.  And I feel so absolutely fantastic about doing just that.  That’s enough of that.  Sorry to any offended (sort of).

My epidural was a totally different experience this time around.  Last delivery it was put in easy peasy and I became absolute dead weight soon after.  I didn’t really mind not being able to move my legs at all, but I did feel sorry for the nurses who had to adjust my body for me all night.  This time, the anesthesiologist had a hard time getting it in, but once it was, and had taken effect I realized how different it felt from the previous time.  I was numb much higher on my body.  It was weird and slightly disconcerting initially because it felt as though my belly was slightly numb (which I was NOT prepared for).  On the flip side, I never lost complete use of my legs.  I was able to move them with relative ease, which made me feel like less of a slacker.  Overall I would have to say that despite the initial complications of this go around I preferred the overall epidural experience more this second time.

When I was checked by the nurses at 11:30 a.m. I was dilated to a 5, which I felt decent about.  My doc had told me that getting to a 5 would be the most difficult and time consuming part.  He was right cause after that, things jumped up a notch and I went from a 5 to an 8 in and hour and a half with lots of contractions getting me there.  Not that I noticed them.  Seriously!  Epidurals!  Amaze-balls!

Around 1 p.m. I was dilated to a 9+ but my cervix was still slightly in the way.  Brant had left briefly to grab some lunch, so I called him to have him hurry back since we were told it would probably be a matter of minutes before it was time for me to start pushing.  The nurse came back about fifteen minutes later to check on my cervix.  Still in the way.  She said she’d come back in another twenty.  She did.  She checked.  Same thing.  And this continued on and on for the next hour and a half with Brant cursing (not so quietly) my cervix in the background.

Close to 1:30 the nurse said she’d come back to check me in a few minutes and whether my cervix had cooperated or not we were going to start pushing.  When she checked my again around 1:45 nothing had changed so I was told I was just going to have to push harder to make that pesky and obtrusive cervix of mine a non-factor.  Harder?  Umm…ok.  Awesome.

I started pushing with my two nurses (oh, and just for the record, their names were Pam and Brianne), and felt some actual concern that I was going to do some serious damage to myself.  I pushed so hard I felt dangerously close to popping something.  Popping what?  I’m not sure.  But I don’t think popping of any kind during labor is highly favored. 

Soon Dr. Benham arrived to take over, and I have to say that this is where he became my favorite person in the room (sorry B).  I was struggling so hard to get my little man out of me, and Dr. Benham was so positive about my attempts at pushing that he gave me a new-found sense of physical strength.  I desperately needed someone to tell me that I was, in fact, making progress and that all my efforts weren’t all for naught.  Yay for positive reinforcement!

After about 25 minutes of pushing, straining, grunting, breathing, my beyond awesome baby Cohen entered the world at 3:08 p.m.  He was immediately brought to my chest and I immediately fell in love.  He was then taken to be cleaned up and measured.  And you know you’ve got a big one when one nurse announces his height (22 ½ in.) and every other medical professional in the room simultaneously shout “seriously?!”  I KNEW there was a reason I couldn’t breathe for the last month and a half of my pregnancy.  Umm, and thank heavens he didn’t go full term.  Sweet Moses, that would have been rough(er)!

Large and In Charge!

So there it is.  The birth story.  Are you bored?  Don’t blame me.  No one forced you to read this whole thing.  But if you did, and you’re subsequently reading this, thanks for sharing in one of my most awesome and special days with me.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Our Last Day

Disclaimer: This is yet again a post that contains NO pictures. Blogger can suck it.


I’ve been feeling a bit emotional today knowing that it is the very last day it will be just me and baby girl. I may have cried once today already. Ok, maybe twice. Fine. I’m crying right now for the third time today. I’m going to need you to cut me some slack. I’m knocked up (aka-emotionally fragile) so quit judging me.

Evie will be 2 in just over two weeks which means I’ve been home with her just the two of us for almost two years as well. And cheesy and cliché as it might be, they have absolutely been the most awesome two years of my life! And as ecstatic as I am for the little dude to join us on Monday when I get induced I am going to miss the uninterrupted one-on-one time that Evie and I have gotten to share. And if I’m being completely honest, some of these tears may be due to a massive amount of guilt I’m feeling about shaking up my little one’s entire universe with the new addition we’re about to add to Team Boyer.


On a different and only slightly related topic: I’m giving birth on Monday! Holy shiz balls! And I’m fairly convinced that Mr. Cohen is adamant about outdoing his 7 lb. 5 oz. sister. Feeling a little nervous that I may soon be attempting to shoot out a 17 lb. beast.

Hi is that your nostril? Mind if we shove this pot roast through it? (name the TV show).

Monday, January 30, 2012

Confession

It’s 30 days into January and I am yet to write a blog post (not a confession). That includes not yet having blogged about Christmas or my birthday January 4th for anyone who wanted to send me a belated gift—and by gift, I mean cash (also, not a confession). I will post about those amaze-tacular events (probably), but not today. No, today, I am making a maternal confession that I probably shouldn’t but am hoping that I look back on in 20 years and laugh at.

Confession: There is a small child who is currently residing at the corner of my uterus and bladder. He is 28 weeks old and I am afraid of him. And if he were my first child I don’t think being afraid of him would be anything abnormal or anything I would expect others to judge me about, but he’s not. He’s my second. And everybody knows that by the time you’ve already had one, you should be able to figure the next one out pretty easy-peasy.

My fears are these: Kiddo number one has been so easy and healthy. She’s hardly been sick. Never had an ear infection. Slept through the night by four-weeks-old. She’s pretty much been spectacular since the womb. You know I’m not going to have it that easy with this next one. No one is that lucky.

I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to be a mom to a newborn. That may seem completely ridiculous because the most awesome kid in the history of life, aka Evie, isn’t even two, yet. So, it’s not like I haven’t already been a newbie’s mom pretty recently. But! That’s exactly where the (irrational?) fear comes from. I’m afraid that I will have forgotten when certain milestones are supposed to happen, when something is normal and when it isn’t, and what I’m supposed to do when the inevitable emergency happens. Everyone is really sweet and quick to dole out advice to a rookie mom, but shouldn’t I (the mother of one already) know this stuff by now?! those well-intentioned moms think to themselves and snicker. The answer is yes I should, and I’m secretly hoping that it’ll all come back to me once the little dude is here. But who knows.

Oh, Natalie, you are thinking to yourself as you read this. Of course it’ll all come back to you. You’ll do great.

Lovely thoughts. And maybe you’re right. But my ultimate fear and the pinnacle of this confession is that I am most afraid of how hard it is to have a newborn. The first time around everyone tells you how difficult it is to wake up for all those nighttime feedings, but the dreamy-eyed first time mom is too excited about the prospect of being a mom—of having a baby of her very own—to worry too much about it. And let’s face it, you don’t really know just how hard it is until you’ve lived it.

But that’s just the thing. I have lived it. This time around I really do know just how hard it’s going to be. And there’s no “sleeping when the baby sleeps” this time since I’ve got a toddler who will be demanding my attention.

So that’s it. My confession as a soon-to-be-mother-of-two. I’m nervous.

But.

I am also completely in love with this boy I haven’t even met yet. He terrifies me, and I can’t wait to meet him.