Make way for ducklings

I took Porter to the San Diego Zoo recently while Nate was attending a statistical conference.  We enjoyed walking around and looking at all the wildlife.

As I walked around I was also scouting out good places to nurse.  Porter would need his "afternoon tea" and I was trying to find a discreet location where I could nurse without drawing attention to myself.

After looking for the entire first part of our visit I quickly realized two things:

         1.  I was not in Utah anymore
         2.  Zoo benches are not provided for nursing

I haven't been to the Hogle Zoo since Porter was born so I can't say that I see people nursing all the time there but I can say that I see people nursing all the time in Utah.  In fact, over Memorial Day weekend we went to the City Creek Center (a new mall) and I saw a woman nursing her baby as she stood in the center of the walkway talking to some friends.

The second thing I realized was that benches are placed along pathways so people can rest, not nurse. If they were for nursing they'd be off the path a little in a corner or a wooded area.  Bummer for me.

I finally found a place that was as secluded as it would get - it was in an outdoor patio areas of one of the zoo eateries.  My table backed up to some bushes and was off to the side.  I was so proud of myself!  I sat down, placed my backpack on the table to add an additional level of privacy, put on the nursing shield, and discreetly started nursing Porter.

Right about that time a mother duck decided she too would like seclusion for herself and her ducklings.  And she too liked the little table by the bushes at the edge of the outdoor dining patio.  Before I knew it, a cute little flock of ducklings was waddling around and under my chair, following their mama.

And following them came the hoards of children and parents who were entranced by the sweet little ducklings.  So much for seclusion while nursing!  I suddenly felt like a main attraction (even though it was really the birds not me).  I avoided eye contact with everyone and just sat there as if I was only rocking my baby while he took a nap under a blanket I wore looped around my neck!

As a side note, a few hours later Porter and I walked past the gift shops towards the exit.  And there it was: "Baby Care Station."  The perfect place in the zoo to nurse your baby without becoming an exhibit yourself!

Random Observations

I haven't been a fairly regular blogger lately, other than Porter's updates.  So here are some random observations that may provide some insight into my recent life.

Observation #1:  I don't blog very much during the summer.

I think it is something about it being light later in the day.  You will note that I didn't blog much last summer, either.

Observation #2:  There are funnier things than farmer tans.  

If you wear shorts one day and sunburn the tops of your knees, you'll have funny red spots over your knee cap.

If you go kayaking the next day wearing capris and get a tan on your shins, you'll have a really funny tan line.  ESPECIALLY if you were wearing tennis shoes.  Think white feet, tan leg to mid-calf, and then white leg to the knee cap where you are sunburned.

If you wear a knee-length skirt the next day the weird tan lines will show.  And if your husband tells you not to worry because no one will notice, think again.  They will.  It will become a conversation starter.

Observation #3:  There are overachievers who work with genius kids.

Some people have too much time and energy.  And really smart ten-year-olds.  I had to teach my activity day girls (10 and 11 year olds) about finances at our activity last Friday.  I went to Sugardoodle.net for some inspiration.

The suggested activities were made by women who came up with elaborate scenarios where each girl was given a certain size family and a certain income.  They paid taxes on their income so that they'd have a take home pay.  Then they had house payments, utilities, groceries, flat tires, haircuts, broken appliances, etc., etc., etc.

Yeah right.  I'm an accountant and this was over my head.

So instead we played an easier game called Moneypalooza I found on a different website.  There were four options: Earn, Spend, Share, Save.

Observation #4:  There is a difference between what a 10 year old finds fun and what a 27 year old finds fun.

I thought Moneypalooza was pretty boring.  I was feeling bad for the girls having to play it, yet they were doing it with such a good attitude.  Then one of the girls said, "This is so much fun!  Can I take it home with me??"

Observation #5:  If you say something to a ten year old, expect it to be taken literally.

After our finance activity I gave the girls otterpops.  One of them asked me, "How many can I have?"  Only three girls showed up for the activity so there were more than enough for them to each have a few otter pops.  

"You can have as many as you want."

The next thing I knew, she was taking half otter pops to store in her freezer.

Observation #6:  It is hard to dress your baby when he has so many cute clothes.

I know this observation makes me sound like the snobby American I am, but every day I struggle with what Porter should wear.  There are so many cute outfits he's inherited from his cousin.  I find myself thinking of this quote from Pinterest:

Which is just ridiculous because he's a baby.  But how can he possibly get to wear each outfit more than once, unless it is one of my absolute favorites??  

Observation #7:  It is hard to pack up your baby's winter clothes.

Since it is late June and our most recent cold front dropped us into the 70's I decided it was probably safe to pack up Porter's winter clothes.  

It was so sad.

When I pack up my winter clothes it isn't hard.  I know I'll see them again in a few months.  But Porter doesn't fit into most of his winter clothes any more and I can guarantee you he won't fit into any of them in a few months.  How come babies grow so fast?  And how come baby clothes are so stinkin' cute?

Observation #8:  The words to "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" are weird.

That is, until you look them up on Wikipedia to find out why the heck they are what they are and then you find out they aren't.

Did that make sense??

Anyway, you know the verse they sing in Alice and Wonderland that goes, "Twinkle twinkle little bat, how I wonder what you're at.  Up above the world so high, like a tea tray in the sky.  Twinkle twinkle little bat, how I wonder what you're at."  

All these years I thought that verse was completely made up by the drunk little mouse at the Mad Hatter's tea party.  Because, seriously, it makes absolutely no sense.  Then I bought a CD for Porter with 150 kids songs and that verse was on it!  So then I started to wonder if I was just missing something.

Well, Wikipedia didn't fail me.  Apparently this was a parody of the song written by Lewis Carrol in honor of one of his Oxford professors.  Who knew??

Observation #9:  You shouldn't read murder mysteries about a serial killers when your husband is at school late into the night.

You may just have to fall asleep listening to soothing music with all the lights on downstairs.  Not that I have any experience with this recently.

Observation #10:  All girls should own a Go-Girl.  

Ever been camping, hiking, kayaking, canoeing, or any other activity where the facilities are less than, well, clean??  (Or perhaps not even existent?)

You need one of these.  My mom found these online and I've since become a believer.

Try it.  You'll like it.

The Buzz

Porter needed a haircut.  I decided today was the day.  I plugged in Nate's clippers and Googled "how to cut hair using clippers."  You see, I've never cut hair before.

The website I found said, "The longest [guard] is a size 7 or 8, depending on the clipper, which leaves about an inch of hair on your head."


Nate's clipper set had a guard that had the number 8 on it.   This guard allows you to adjust it to different lengths.  Well, I wanted Porter's hair shorter than an inch so I adjusted the clipper.  I am embarrassed to say I adjusted it to the shortest length possible, thinking it would still somehow get me close to 1 inch.  (Sometimes I wonder how on earth I earned a master's degree.)


To make a short story shorter, after the first swipe with the clippers I realized the error of my ways.  Too late.


Porter cried and cried.  I kid you not.  He was fine when I first trimmed the back, but when I switched to the size 8 guard and took the first swipe off the front, he knew what happened.


He is now drowning his sorrows in milk.

Poor unsuspecting baby

Distraught after a haircut gone bad.

Life is always better after a nap.  And realizing hair grows back.

Shots

Typically, I have no problem with shots.  Give me a shot over a pill any day.  A second of discomfort is well worth not having to remember to take a prescription over the course of several days.  However, I seem to have a hard time when it comes to shots and babies.  Particularly my babies.

As the oldest child, I considered each of my siblings my baby at one time or another and I tried to protect them from harm.  One of my parents' favorite stories is about when my brother Justin was just two months old.  It was time for his shots and my mom took me with her to have them administered.

Being the older and wiser sister, I knew Justin was in immediate danger.  Since my mom was allowing him to be at the mercy of the nurse, I took it upon myself to rescue him.  I tried to pull him off the examination table as the nurse went after him with the needle.

I was 19 months old.

Justin and me, 1986

Being a good "big" sister, 1986. 

So I should have known shots would be tough when I took Porter in for his two-month and four-month immunizations.  Originally I decided I wasn't going to be one of those moms who has a hard time when their babies receive their shots.

I did great for the vaccine that he got to drink.  He guzzled it down both times.

Then my poor unsuspecting baby received his shots.  One in each leg.

His whole face crumpled and turned red as he built up for a piercing scream.  I felt SO GUILTY.  My poor baby had no idea what was going on, other than that he'd just been pricked and him mom stood by and watched.  Both times it was pitiful and I felt like I was a traitor.  Sure, I knew it is for the best but to watch my poor baby be in pain that I allowed....that was hard to take.

So from now on, perhaps I'll be careful about the vows I make where my feelings and my baby are concerned.  The maternal protection instinct is stronger than I realized.

Porky Porter

Last week I went back to work part-time until the end of busy season.  Porter stays with my mom while I'm at work (thanks Mom!) and they seem to be enjoying each other's company.

Since Porter usually nurses, we had little idea of how much my mom should feed him in a bottle while I'm at work.  According to one website, "the rule of thumb is to offer him 2.5 ounces of formula per pound of body weight each day."

Porter weighs about 16 pounds.  16 x 2.5 = 40 ounces.  He's still on a 3 hour feeding schedule, or 8 times a day.  This equates to roughly 5 ounces a feeding.

Well, apparently I gave birth to the next Augustus Gloop.  Porter is averaging 8 ounces per feeding.  Today he even drank 10 ounces just 2 1/2 hours after I nursed him.

At first I blamed his Rohbock genes.  Then I realized I myself was eating everything in sight.  I ate breakfast at home before I dropped Porter off at my mom's.  When I got to work I was starving.  I ate two of my three snacks before 9 AM.

By the time lunch rolled around I was starving and I downed my meal in minutes.

Two hours later I was famished again.  I tried to ration my last snack but it only lasted about 30 minutes.

Lucky for me, my parents had dinner ready when I got to their house and they let me eat with them.

So apparently Porter inherited his insatiable appetite from me.  At least I can blame his hunger on a possible growth spurt.  Can we blame mine on his growth spurt, too?



Disclaimer: Nate is worried Porter will be deeply offended by this post in future years.  So Porter, if you are reading this, he had nothing to do with it.

And I love you, my little Augustus!

I am Woman

Yesterday I successfully patched the tire of Porter's stroller.  This was my first successful tire-patch job ever.

My success made me recall my first (and last) attempt to patch a tire. I was a teenager and my bike had a flat.

I pulled the tire off the rim and pulled out the inner tube.  I don't remember how I found the hole because I know I didn't use the stick-it-in-the-sink-full-of-water-and-look-for-bubbles method.  But somehow I identified where the hole was and I stuck the patch on it.  The problem was, the patch didn't stick.

So what did I do?

Well, according to the Red Green show (which my siblings and I were faithful followers of at the time) duct tape is the handy-man's secret weapon.

Yep, I duct taped the patch to the inner tube.

Then I struggled to put the tire BACK onto the rim.  Have you EVER tried doing that?  It is no easy feat. After I finally got the tire on the rim I pumped it full of air and then took the bike for a spin.

I discovered that duct tape does not a wheel-patch make.  I was disgusted with the whole situation, put the bike back in the shed, and rode my sister's bike instead.

This whole experience occurred probably nine or ten years ago.  Since then I've avoided flat tires like the plague.  Until this week.

It is amazing what demons you will face for your child.

At first I just tried pushing the stroller with a flat tire.  But it would list so badly to the left that the muscles in my forearms were starting to get sore.  I didn't even know those muscles could get sore.

So yesterday I broke down and pulled the tire off the rim and took the inner tube out.  Then I identified the hole using the stick-it-in-the-sink-full-of-water-and-look-for-bubbles method.  When I couldn't see bubbles right away I knew I was destined to fail at my task.  I'm just not a good tire-patcher I thought.  But then I saw the tiny little bubbles!

I took the little metal scraper that came with the patch-kit and roughed up the area around the hole, per the instructions.  Then I put the patch on the tube, stuck the tube back in the tire and struggled to put the tire back onto the rim.  I repeat, have you EVER tried doing that???  It is no easy feat.

After I finally replaced the tire, I pumped it full of air.  I watched with bated breath to see if the tire would retain the air and it did!  Porter and I enjoyed a lovely walk, and the whole time I felt so proud of my accomplishment.

I am woman.  Hear me roar.

First-timers

When we were preparing to leave the hospital I wanted to make sure Porter would be warm.  So I bundled him up in a warm sleeper and two blankets before we took him out to the car:

Of course I hadn't been outside for 2 days and I didn't know it was unseasonably warm for being the day before Thanksgiving.  I was shedding layers of coats and jackets as I got into the car.  I think Porter was warm enough!

We stopped on our way home to get Nate some lunch.  I'd been riding in the back seat with Porter (after being made fun of by the nurse - "You'll have plenty of time to look at him," she said when she helped me into the backseat) but after our stop I decided to ride shotgun where there is more leg room. 

On our hour-long drive home, I started to worry because I hadn't heard anything from the back seat.  Was my baby still alive??  I tried craning my neck to see, but to no avail.  Then I remembered, "Hey!  I have a cell phone!  And it has a camera!" So, being ever resourceful, I decided to snap a picture of him to make sure he could breathe. 

I took the picture and then looked at it.  I was slightly shocked at what I saw:

This isn't exactly what you want to see when you're headed home for the first time with your baby.  

We hadn't taken him out of his car seat when we were getting Nate lunch so I knew he still had to be in there.  After all, I had pictures that proved we'd put him in the seat in the first place (see above).

So I was rather panicked for the rest of the ride home.  We stopped at Walgreens to fill a prescription and I jumped into the back seat where I saw my poor baby with his head flopped down onto his body.  It is amazing how little babies can bend!

I straightened his neck out and then proceeded to watch him.  Nate came back to the car (he'd run the prescription in to get it filled) and he said we had 15 minutes before it would be ready.  So he also climbed into the back seat on the other side of Porter and we stared at Porter for the next 15 minutes.

First-time parents?  Yep.

When the prescription was ready Nate ran back in to get it.  Then we drove the rest of the way home.  

I sat in the back with Porter.  No more head-flopping on my watch!