What Mom's are for!

So, I don't know about y'all, but I'm pretty tight with the momma. She's my bestie. She's always been there for me, letting me know when I'm acting like a mega witch and she's especially good at telling me when to "get a grip". As I have gotten a bit older, I've come to realize that she's wiser than I once thought. I was one of those teenagers who knew everything and lets face it, sometimes I'm not quite grown out of that. :)

My most recent smack in the face with the reality that my mom actually knows what the heck she's talking about came last night. A couple of weeks ago, I bought a dress that I thought looked just fabulous on me. She promptly told me it made me look like a fattie.. er didn't "flatter" me. I was totally shocked. I told her I would leave it up to the blog followers, maybe post a pic and see what you guys thought. So last night, I had the husband snap a pic of me in it.

She.was.right.

Thanks, Mom!

A letter..

Dear Sugar,

My dear, dear, sweet Sugar. We need to talk. I've loved you for as long as I can remember. You are included in most of my memories, from chasing down the ice cream truck as a kid all the way to my brand spanking new husband and I feeding each other our *amazing* Italian creme wedding cake. I love you in most of your forms but seriously, Sugar? We need a break. I think my wake up call has come to me this week. Maybe it was the THREE pieces of my dad's birthday cake you forced me to consume? I don't know. Could it be the over 20!! POINTS worth of Golden Oreo's that I just.couldn't.stop.eating. tonight? Maybe. Thing is, the more I have of you, the more I can't get enough of you and well, my dear sweet, sweet, Sugar, too much of an amazingly good thing has proved to be a notsogreat thing.
Kindly let me be, sweet Sugar. The last time I tried to leave you behind, you made it so hard for me. Always calling my name from the kitchen, tempting me in the sweetest of ways. Not this time Sugar! Let my ass heart heal from all the sweet lovin'. MMMKAY?

Fatty Friday

Hey y'all. I've missed a couple of FF posts thanks to Poppyseed and all that jazz but here I am again!
I have MISSED going to the gym on the regular. Who would have thought? We got to start going back yesterday and you should have seen me Wednesday night. I was a giddy school girl just anticipating going the next morning and getting back some semblance of a routine. I thought that I would have gained a few pounds for sure because I had been staying at my parent's house for extra help with B and for some reason I feel like I have a free pass to munch on as much chocolate as I want when I am over there. Maybe that's why I'm over there so much? ;)
Anyway, I stepped on the scale and I had dropped another 2 lbs! I'm giving this one to BFing and the fact that my metabolism must have just gone way up from me working out consistently.
That 2 lbs brings me to 20 lbs total! What a great milestone. I only have about 12 to go to my initial "goal" and then I will re-evaluate. The *best* part is that I'm 6 lbs away from being in the "healthy" range for my height and finally out of the "overweight" range. UGH.

So, gone are the fat jeans, my momma bought me some shorts for the summer (huge shoutout to the best mom eva) and they are size 8! I'll be extremely happy to get into 6's but for now I'm enjoying the 8's.

              5 weeks ago                                                        

today, after my sweaty run

Uh, for some reason I can't get those side-by-side. :(

Want in on my #1 tip for loosing weight? A while ago I took a step back and looked at my eating habits and noticed that I was consuming a crazy amount of calories after the boys went to bed because I was just bored and didn't know what to do with myself. I made a rule that I won't eat anything after 7:00 (which was bedtime at that time). It has helped so much. Now, I'm not a Nazi about it or anything. If I get to 7:00 and I haven't had time to grab a bite for dinner or I haven't had all of my POINTS yet, I still eat. But, as a general rule, I won't eat after 7:00.

What is your #1 weight loss tip?

"Ashton! We do not sit on your brothers' face!!"

So, we had to make not one, but two trips to the plastic surgeon today!
It all started when I was trying to get the kids ready to go to Ashton's 18 month appointment. Braxton wouldn't nurse so I had to pump. I put Braxton on the ottoman and was pumping away. Ashton crawled up onto the ottoman with him and proceded to SIT on Braxton's face. Immediately B is screaming and blood is flowing. We all three just bawled while I scrambled to think of what to do. I've never felt like such a failure as a mother, it was terrible.
Once we all calmed down, I called the plastic surgeons office and actually got to speak right to him (have I mentioned that he is amazing?!) He said that he thought everything was probably fine as the bleeding had stopped but wanted us to come up just to make sure. We went right away and I swear, I didn't even have to wait 2 minutes once we got there to see him. He said that he thought it had probably separated a little bit and that he might need another surgery in a year or two to correct it. Not great news, but not as bad as it could have been.
When I got home, I started to nurse B when my phone rang. It was the PS. He decided to try to put a steri-strip on the separation in hopes of avoiding another surgery. I finished feeding him and we went right back up there. This time, he cut the glue off that had been pulled up and once he did, he could actually get a look at it. He said that if it had separated, it was back together perfectly so it didn't even need the steri-strip! Such great news! He thinks it will heal up just fine, but now we have to be ultra cautious to not let anything bump into or touch it. We're putting ointment on it and he's doing great. His momma is shook up quite a bit, but he was smiling 20 minutes after it happened...
One thing is for sure, he's going to be one tough little boy! I'm sure he'll pay his brother back once he's big enough!

A hospital is such a fun place for a toddler.

Just some pictures of our big boy from the hospital! 

He got tired while we were waiting.

I needed to contain the monster. :)

He actually did pretty well at the hospital. We were constantly chasing him around, but this is nothing new! 

Whew... It's over.

Braxton's surgery has come and gone and we are in full recovery mode around here! The day of the surgery was crazy to say the least. We had to be at the hospital at 6:00 AM and everything went fast after that. Much faster than I was expecting but I guess when you have a tiny baby that hasn't been allowed to eat for a while, they move faster!

We had several doctors and nurses come talk to us before it began and they all had different thoughts on how long it would take, we got answers of anywhere from one to five hours. We figured we would go with the doctor's guess of 3-4 hours but that time came and went and before we knew it, it had been SEVEN long, long hours away from my baby. When they called and told me we could come to the recovery room, I practically ran (actually, I think I did a little.) It was so hard to see him coming out of anesthesia, all drugged and wanting to cry but all he could get out was a horse whimper. His poor throat was so raw from a tube being down it for the whole surgery. I've never been so relieved to see someone, and let me tell you, he looks like an angel! But I might be a little partial to him. ;)

Luckily, my doctor had a change of heart and decided he wanted me to continue to nurse, if Braxton seemed interested. We gave him a small bottle in the recovery room and then it was time to try to nurse. I was SO nervous! I had never thought about what his lip would look like after the surgery for some reason. Thankfully, he nursed great and we've only had to give a couple of bottles. I'm sure you know what an absolute relief it was for this momma!

You may be asking yourself how you would deal with having your child in surgery for such a LONG time! Well, let me tell you! I have the best friends a girl could ask for. They came (some even taking off work) and sat with me and kept me company and kept me from just sitting and worrying. It was amazing. It made the time go so much faster. If they weren't there, I just know I would have been a blubbering mess the whole seven hours. I'm forever grateful to them for that!

I surely hope that none of my friends' children never ever have a reason to be in a hospital but if they do, I can't say enough great things about Children's Hospital in OKC. Dr. Petersen, our plastic surgeon has the best bedside manner that I have ever seen and the nurses were phenomenal. There were people coming in just to make sure the nurses were great, volunteers coming in just to see if we needed anything, departments bringing Braxton a stuffed animal or us hot chocolate and cookies. You wouldn't even believe how great they were.

I've gotta say, Dr. Petersen did absolutely amazing work. He couldn't have done a better job, I think it's going to look so great when it's healed. That said, I miss his wide smile. I think I'll always miss it.

Recovery hasn't been too awful. He really opened up and seemed like himself about 24 hours after his surgery, even trying to smile here and there. We still can't tell what his smile is going to look like because he's quite swollen on the inside of his lip. Today (day three) has been a bit of a rough day, the worst for sure but not unbearable. Hopefully he will start to feel better soon!

Pity Party OVER.

After two days of crying and feeling sorry for myself, I've decided to change my attitude about this whole thing. I'm going to do everything I can for my little boy.

If that means that I have to stop nursing for two weeks, then I will do it. I'll work my ass off to keep my supply up with pumping and I'll try as hard as I possibly can to get back into nursing after the two weeks. I'm refusing the idea that it won't work out, just like I did when he was born. We *will* get through this, and come out better on the other side for it.

Thanks for all the kind words, advice, and for being the proverbial "shoulder to cry on". Y'all rock my face.

It's Fatty Friday!

So, I wasn't able to make it into the gym (again) this morning, but I weighed on my scale at home and it appears that I may have lost .5-1 lb. IDK. It's hard to tell because it isn't digital and it isn't my usual scale, but I still weigh on it every day so I have a general idea.

I have STRUGGLED this week!

Last weekend, my family and I watched Food, Inc. and wow, it is life changing. *Watch it!*

I've decided to not eat meat unless I know where it has come from so needless to say, it's been a bit of an adjustment. I've never *not* eaten meat so I didn't really know that I needed to be making sure that I was getting enough protein. I wasn't, and it was leaving me absolutely starving.

One night, I went to Target for a few groceries and I shit-you-not I bought a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cinnamon Bun ice cream and ate half of it on the car ride home.

I figured the points when I got back and holy canoli, I ate 30 points of ice cream. (totally worth it, it's heaven in the form of ice cold creamy goodness) I guess it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but I had already eaten all of my extra points in the form of little fun sized kit-kat, reese's, and hershey's bars. Sugar overload this week, I'm tellin' ya.

This week I hope to pack my diet with more protein and make my way over to the health food store so I can eat some meat! :) Also, I'm sure my body would benefit from a little less sugar.

Too bad I've never met a cookie I don't like!

Pre-operative freak out.

This morning we trekked up to Children's Hospital to have Braxton's pre-op appointment. I left in tears.

All along my biggest concern with his lip was feeding. I wanted to nurse him so badly and it took a ton of hard work and lots of tears but we eventually got it down. It's virtually unheard of to be able to nurse a baby with a cleft, so I take immense pride in the fact that we pushed through.

I've loved every minute of BFing. I have never been bitter about being the only one to feed him like I thought I might. Maybe that's because I knew that it might not last long.

Before our initial appointment with the plastic surgeon, I called to ask some questions. I asked if I would be able to nurse him after the surgery and the girl told me that I would have to bottle feed for 2-3 weeks following surgery. I freaked out, calling my BFing advocate bestie, Jenn for advice about what to do. The girl called me back and told me that she talked to the Dr. and that he said I would be able to try to nurse after his surgery. WHEW. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and felt silly for freaking the hell out.

At his first consult they reiterated that point, that I would be able to try to nurse, but they warned that Braxton might not particularly want to nurse. I felt like I could deal with that, we would push through the difficulty just like we did in the beginning.

Today, the doctor tells me that he doesn't want me to nurse for 2 weeks following surgery. I'm devastated. I'm so scared that he will never want to nurse again. I'm so not ready to stop nursing. I'm scared that I wont be able to maintain my supply with pumping for two weeks. Not to mention, it will take so long to feed him, as they want me to basically squeeze milk into his mouth, no sucking on his part. Will he forget how to suck? What will I do if he is crying because he is desperate for his momma and wants to nurse and I'm not supposed to? Two weeks suddenly seems like a lifetime.

On the other hand, I understand where the doctor is coming from. If it's going to hurt him to nurse, then of course I don't want to do it. If it will disrupt his healing, I don't want to do it. As his mom, it's my job to protect him. This gets a little tricky because I need to help him heal, but it feels natural to nurse him to make him feel better.

By the end of the appointment, I got the doctor to say that I would be able to attempt nursing, so technically, I got my way. But I don't really want to get my way if it's going to hurt my little guys' healing.

This just keeps getting more complicated and frustrating...

So, I guess I'll spend the next week enjoying our time nursing, and hope and pray that it won't be the end of it.

Anxious...

Tomorrow morning we go for Braxton's pre-op appointment with the plastic surgeon! I'll post tomorrow to let you know how it goes. His surgery is one week from today, yikes!

Banging in the laundry

Let me tell you a little bit about my Ashton. Around the time that he turned 7 months old, he went from being this lazy cuddle bug to a man on a mission. He learned to crawl and now the world was there for his exploring. Seriously, he went from the 75th percentile for weight to the 35th between his 6 and 9 month appointments, just from learning how to crawl.

He became fiercely independent. Gone were the days of rocking to sleep and cuddling. He goes down to bed awake and it seems as though he can't physically be rocked to sleep anymore. There is just too much going on around him, and he wants to be in on it all.



Every once in a while he'll surprise me, though. One of these times happened the other day.

I had put the boys down for a nap and was doing a little laundry when Ashton woke up crying, about 20 minutes after I had put him down. I figured he just wasn't tired enough and I would let him play for a while before trying again. He was still upset so I took him into the living room and sat down on the couch where he just sat in my lap for a while, snuggled up to me. About that time, I heard a noise coming from the back of the house and I can't for the life of me figure out what it was. I'm wracking my brain when I realize the only thing it could possibly be is the laundry. OH CRAP. I had just put sheets in the washer and there is literally BANGING in there.

At this point, I know it's one of two things (or both, I guess). It's either the remote (not a huge deal), or it's my iPhone (a somewhat larger deal). I start to pick Ashton up and set him down on the couch when he tells me "No". (You know, that wonderful word that every mother dreads the day that their child learns how to say.) I decide to go with it and stay on the couch. About 30 seconds later, my crazy-wild-into-everything-little-boy is fast asleep snuggled up next to his mommy. I was in heaven. I sat there and prayed that Braxton stayed asleep for a while and tried to keep the tears away while I thought about how fast my baby has grown into a little boy that doesn't need his mommy to fall asleep anymore.


And I didn't care one bit that I now have a mountain fresh remote control. :)

**Fatty Friday**

It's Fatty Friday again! Is it just me or are the weeks just flying by? I feel like I just did the last FF post yesterday or something! I made it into the gym this morning to weigh on my usual FF scale. It's hard to know exactly how much I have lost since last week since I didn't get in there to weigh, but I'm down 6 lbs from 2 weeks ago! Woot! It is so encouraging to see those numbers sink lower and lower.

My training for my first 5k is going so well. I did my first 25 minute run (2.5 miles) without stopping today. It feels amazing to be able to run that long! When I first started back to the gym after having Brax, about 6 weeks ago, I thought I would have a heart attack after running 3 laps on the track. The 2.5 miles is 27.5 laps!! And you know what, I'm not dying at the end of my run. The couch to 5k program is great for building up to running longer times and distances. I'm hoping to do a half marathon by the end of the year (we'll see how that goes... the thought of running 13 miles right now makes me want to hide under the covers!)

Happy getting healthy!

Caught him!

So, I've been trying so hard to snap a pic of Braxton's beautiful smile. Getting him to smile isn't the issue, it's getting him to smile with a huge black camera all up in his business that he's not too crazy about.


The pic isn't great but it's what I got.
This makes me a little,crazy sad because in two short weeks, he'll have his surgery and his face will never be the same. Forever changed in 3-4 hours under the knife. He'll never look like that baby boy they showed me in the OR. His smile will never look like it does now. I'm soaking it up.

A little shoppin...

The one time I felt well enough to get out of the house this week, I decided to round up the babies and make a Target run. Oh how I LOVE Target. I could get into some serious trouble in there!
They had some fantastically cute t-shirts on sale for $8 so I grabbed a couple. I end up staying in my work out clothes most of the day anyway (I know, gross.) So I figured I might as well have a couple of cute things. I picked tie-dye cause I'm a super big tree huggin hippie... Uh, yeah. ;)

They have a bunch of different designs (not just tie-dye) and solids as well. You can't beat $8! I think the sale ends Saturday so you should go getchasome!

Also, I picked up a couple pairs of socks.
Y'all. Do you KNOW that they have super cute socks for ONE DOLLAR per pair?! I think this is fabulous, because I vowed to never ever wear plain white socks again. Weird, I know.


At the end of my Target trip, I felt like I had been hit by a truck, but at least I got a few cute things out of it!

It's Fatty Friday!! (complete with picture)

Hey y'all. This week has been living healthy/getting skinny FAIL. I haven't gotten to work out since LAST FRIDAY. Why, you ask? Because I've been knocked on my ass by what I now know is a severe ear infection, severe sinus infection, and bronchitis. Lovely, huh? So, as much as I would love to still be training for my race, or shakin' it at Zumba, I've been in bed whenever I can, which is sort of hard to accomplish while taking care of two small kiddos!

Today, I am thankful for whomever invented the z-pack. I'm convinced it came straight from heaven. Also, cough syrup with codeine. Together, they are making me better, albeit a little slower than my liking.


So, I usually weigh in on Friday mornings at the gym, so I keep it on the same scale and it's all nice and digital while mine is, well, not. Since I couldn't make it into the gym today, all I have to go by is the scale at the doctor's office that I weighed on Wednesday afternoon. It was about 1 lb lighter, so I'd say that I probably lost 1.5 lbs this week, but I don't really know.

I had been hoping to try to run on Saturday but now that I think about it, I'm not so sure it will be a great idea. Today, just a shower and a quick blow dry had me sweating like a whore in church; I can't even imagine how my first run is going to go!

SO, here's my picture. I have mixed feelings about saying exactly how much I weigh right now. Maybe I'll tell you in another 10 lbs... :) Hopefully, when I take another picture in a month, we'll be able to see some change.

(Please excuse the poor lighting that I wish I could blame the pale skin on... Oh and Ashton wanted to participate in Fatty Friday, too!)

Eating my words.

Last weekend, my old friend from High School, Emily came over so I could do her little sister's hair. We don't see each other very often and it is always so great to get to catch up with her. She said something to me that has had me thinking ever since. She was just saying how crazy it is that I'm all married and a mom of two because when her and I were super close, around our sophomore year, I would always say how I *never* wanted to get married or have children.

I didn't. I didn't want anything to do with that business. I wanted to go off to college and start some big fancy life for myself and I would be damned if I would let a man stand in my way!

I'm not sure what got me away from feeling that way, but I couldn't be happier with the way my life has turned out. I may not have a big shot job and live in a big city like I once thought I would end up, but I get to stay home and watch my babies grow and laugh and learn new things every day.

Back then, I lived for myself, only caring about high school nonsense and gossip.
Today, I live for toddler cuddles and baby snuggles.
It's amazing how times change! :)

Shhhhh! Enough with the crying, plug it up.

A Request.

I've been meaning to post this for a couple of days but the sickness from hell has decided to visit me. If you have a second, please go check out my friend, Lisa's blog. She has had an extremely difficult road trying to conceive that has included miscarriage, a beautiful still born baby boy, and now a predicted miscarriage turned somewhat hopeful. She has another ultrasound on Thursday this week and we are praying so hard for her to hear some good news, finally. Her sweet family needs our prayers!

My first taste of The Green Monster.

Earlier today, while browsing the Health and Fitness board on the Nest, I ran across a post about something called "The Green Monster." I was intrigued.
A quick google search landed me Here.
The website claims that drinking these Green Monsters will give you energy and also decrease your cravings for sweets. Sweets cravings are something I have a huge issue with. I've never met a cake, cookie, or brownie that I didn't love so I thought, what the hell? I'll give this drink a shot. I like that it's a recipe. It's not something you need to buy not knowing if you would even like it.

There are a lot of different recipes on there, but I decided to try the Blueberry-Banana Green Monster.

Here are the ingredients:

2-3 cups organic spinach (I used two)
1-1.25 cups your choice Almond, Soy, or Cows Milk. (I used 1 cup fat free cows milk)
1 Banana
1/2 cup blueberries
1 T flax (this is optional and I didn't use it)
Ice (I used 5-6 cubes)
*I chose not to use flax because I get plenty of fiber in my diet and it would of added one Weight Watcher point to the recipe and it just wasn't worth it to me.*

They say to put the spinach in first, then the banana and blueberries, followed by the milk.



Blend until smooth. (About a minute)
Add ice and blend some more.





I was a little sceptical...



Turns out, it's really good! You don't taste the spinach at all and it just tastes like a cold Blueberry-Banana smoothie. I give it two thumbs up! I'm going to give it a trial, drinking it everyday for a week and see if I notice a difference. If nothing else, it's a great way to get some fruits and veggies, which is really nice for this busy mom.

Ahh..





For those of you who are fellow WWers, it is 5 points, if you don't use the flax.

Fatty Friday!

I've decided to blog about my weight loss/getting fit journey. I realize that the name "Fatty Fridays" might be a little self deprecating, but I'm alright with that.
I think I may do pictures here and there as well. Weekly pics surely wouldn't show any difference, so maybe I'll just do monthly.

So, loosing weight.
I've always "battled the bulge." I was a total fat kid in high school. During my senior year, I decided it was time to change. I did everything the wrong way. I took diet pills to help curb my appetite and give me energy to work out. I ended up dropping 25-30 lbs and I felt fantastic, it was a great weight for me. I stopped taking the pills. Then I started at OU and still had a good workout routine with the girls I lived with, and only managed to gain around 3 lbs of the dreaded "freshman fifteen."

Then I met Tim. And like so many women, I fell out of my workout and eating healthy routine in exchange for spending more time with my man. When we got married, I was 10-15 lbs heavier than when we met and gained a little (OK, a lot) more after the wedding.

Seven months after our wedding I was pregnant with Ashton. I worked so hard to lose the 40 lbs I gained while pregnant with him and finally did about 5 months after he was born. I was back to pre-pregnancy weight and finally fitting into my pre-Ashton jeans. One month later, I was pregnant again!

Luckily, I only gained 20 lbs with Poppyseed. Mostly due to chasing after my first baby as he is FAST and loves to get into everything and give his mother daily heart attacks.

This time the "baby weight" came off easily. I lost the weight within a few weeks and even fit into those jeans again.

The thing about these jeans is this: They are my fat jeans.
While it feels great to fit into them now, I can't help but remember the day that I got them and how I was so upset about the size of them. I don't plan on fitting into them long (even though they are cute).

This time, I'm trying my hand at doing things the "right way". You know, diet and exercise. YAWN. Today I start my 5th week on Weight Watchers and it's just now getting to the point where my body has adjusted to the amount food and I'm not starving anymore. That's nice because a Hungry Dani is an Angry Dani. :)
In my first four weeks on WW, I've officially lost 11.8 lbs. That's just about 1/3 of the way to my goal weight.

I've been doing a Zumba class everyday during the week with my friend, Heather and it's an ass-kicking good time! It was just what I needed to get back into working out. High energy and exciting enough that I don't get bored halfway into it.

I'm also training for my frist 5k race. This is hella interesting because I have never been a runner but, you know what? I'm enjoying the crap out of training. (So weird)I'm slow as a snail, so my goal is to do the race in 35 minutes. That's an 11:29 pace. Very slow but the race is April 11th; coming up fast. I'll be lucky to just run the whole thing without walking at all. It's so funny to run on the track at the Y because I really am probably the slowest person up there. There are 60 year olds passing me, how sad is that?

I talked to a fellow YMCA momma-gym-nut today who just ran her first marathon. I've decided she's my hero. When I think about running a marathon, my eyes glaze over and I may or may not start to have a little panic attack. Those girls are hardcore.

This weekend I'm supposed to run 2 miles/20 minutes without stopping. *If* I can do this, I may just start to believe that I can do this running thing...

To those of you also on a getting fit journey, I wish you luck and calorie free chocolate cake!

*I'll have Tim take my Fatty Friday picture later and put it up here*

Poppyseed (part two)

I want to talk about what it feels like to have a baby with something "wrong" with him. Do any research on cleft lips and you fill find that it is a "birth defect" that occurs in pregnancy. They don't specifically know what causes it but see a correlation in babies whose mothers' drank alcohol or used drugs while pregnant. UM, DRUGS AND ALCOHOL? No, and no. I did everything right. I took my vitamins, I rested when I could, I exercised. Sure, I ate my weight in sweets and other random things that I would crave, but that shouldn't give my baby a birth defect, should it?




I went through every possibility. Could it of happened because I got a high fever at some point? Could it have been caused by the gas leak that was in our house the day we moved in? Could it have been some virus that I got because I work with children and am constantly exposed to their germs?


Unfortunately, there is no way to know what caused it. All I knew is it was my fault. That's a crazy amount of guilt to carry around. I am happy to say I am working through it. It's no where near gone, and it probably never will be, but it's less.



I gotta say, I LOVE Braxton's lip. It seems so normal now, 10 weeks later. It's just *him*. His little smile is the most beautiful smile I have ever seen, exactly the way it is.
He will have surgery to correct it on March 25th. This scares me to death. I cry whenever I think about it. I can't imagine them having to give him another IV, putting him under.

I am extremely sensitive to the things people say about my little guy. I'm his mother. It's my job to protect him and protect his feelings. He isn't broken. He doesn't need fixed, thankyouverymuch. I would even get upset with my husband if he were to mention something about it. I immediately jump to the defensive. "Why does it matter? He's perfect the way he is!" This commences the tears.



When you think about a baby growing in the womb, it's crazy and overwhelming to think of all that could possibly go wrong. Yeah, I'm nervous for him to go into surgery, but I could be nervous for him to be having heart surgery, or brain surgery, or surgery to place his intestines in the correct spot because they grew on the outside. These things happen, and it could have been so much worse. I'm so thankful that of everything that could of happened, Braxton's troubles are purely cosmetic and not something much more serious.

Bottom line, I am honored that God chose me to go through this journey with Braxton. He knew that, for some reason or another, *I* was the right woman, the right Mommy for this job. So there is no "why me?" Only, "Lucky me!" He trusted me with this little baby, who will deal with this for a long time to come. To say that I'm honored isn't enough.

**All photos were taken by my amazing friend and photographer, Tavia Redburn**

Braxton, the biggest Poppyseed you will ever meet. (Part one)

During my pregnancy with Ashton, I wanted nothing to do with being pregnant again. I warned Tim he may have to find another wife to have more children with. I just didn't like it, and didn't know if I wanted to do it again.
Then, shortly after Smash graced us with his presence, I got the fevah again. So, many assume that because A&B are only 14.5 months apart that Braxton was clearly unplanned, but this is not the case. He was so very planned and so very wanted. Sure, there were many times during my pregnancy that I *freaked out* wondering why I thought it was a good idea to have two, but God doesn't disappoint and I am thrilled that they came so close together.

While at a small gathering of some of my best girlfriends, I got encouraged to POAS (pee on a stick). I say "encouraged" but what I really mean is peer pressured. :) So, we made a trip to Wal-mart and got the things. I was absolutely SHOCKED to see that second line and I busted out of the bathroom screaming "I think I see two lines!!" Luckily, my girlfriends were there to hold my pee stick at the right angles to confirm that there were indeed, two lines. Pretty sure there was some jumping up and down and screaming that followed. Soon after, my friend, Cati, said something about him being the size of a poppyseed, and the name stuck. I'm sure that some people find it very strange that I didn't take the test with my husband, or that he wasn't the first to find out, but it was very special to me and it's definitely something I will never forget.



My pregnancy with Braxton was uneventful. Easy. I hardly had any morning sickness, I didn't *feel* any different, maybe just a little more on the tired side. OK, a LOT on the tired side, but that is nothing in the spectrum of pregnancy complaints. All along I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, though. In the beginning, I was totally braced for a miscarriage, even though I had no reason to think that I would have one and then as the pregnancy progressed, and was going so perfectly, I just thought "nothing is this perfect, something willgo wrong."


That feeling was right. The day Braxton was born, I was in the OR for my repeat c-section. They were just pulling my baby out and my doctor says, "The baby has got a little cleft lip." Can I just say I was SHOCKED. Only because at our anatomy ultrasound, the tech got a great look at his face and says to us, "Well, he doesn't have a cleft lip!" I remember thinking at the time that it was odd of her to say that. Mainly because they never said anything about Ashton's lip at his ultrasounds.

So, he has a cleft lip. I was freaking out because I had been preparing for my entire pregnancy to breastfeed. I didn't get to very long with Ashton and I was determined to educate myself and surround myself with people who would do everything they could to help me nurse successfully. I remember asking the nurses, "Will he be able to eat?" terrified that he wouldn't even be able to take a bottle. The nurses were fabulous and told me that his palate was not affected and that he shouldn't have a problem eating, but probably won't be able to breastfeed. *tears* I was so upset.

Meanwhile, they are cleaning him off, and doing all the footprints, weighing and all that jazz. They tell me they are going to have to take him to the NICU, because his breathing was a little labored. I was prepared for that, as it's common in c-section babes.


Before they took him away, they brought him over to me. (This is where the soundtrack slows down to some really peaceful music.) One look at that little face and I was in love. All over again. It was the same as the first go-round and yet so different all at the same time. I got to stroke his beautiful cheeks and talk to this little boy that we had been praying so hard for and you know what? His breathing slowed. He calmed down. The nurses were amazed at the improvement he was making by just being near me. There is no greater feeling.

He goes onto have to stay in the NICU for three nights and doesn't come home until the fifth day. I could get into all the medical talk, but I would just lose those of you that aren't in the medical profession. I'll say this. It was hell. I had to wait six hours to even see him again. It's something I still cry my eyes out thinking about. It's hard to shake the feeling of being "ripped off". Ripped off of the normal hospital experience. Ripped off of the first few days of life of my little boy. On the other hand, I feel extremely blessed that his problems were relatively minor and he wasn't in there as long as some of those other tiny babies.


(After a pretty difficult road, Braxton did go onto breastfeed successfully and is still nursing!)

My first monster.

What can I possibly say about my first born baby? He changed my life in an instant. Though he was very much planned, during my pregnancy I developed a unwanted case of the "Oh-shit-what-have-I-dones?" You know, the realization that your life is about to be picked up and thrown around until it is absolutely unrecognizable. Kind of like a tornado.
But in this case, it left no devastation. Just a devilishly handsome little baby boy that I fell in love with at the first glance. And also, had no idea what to do with.

Ashton, or "Smash" as I like to call him, has survived his first whole year being looked after by me and Tim and is now just under 17 months. He has personality to boot, he seems to be exactly like me, only all boy (this may or may not be a good thing). He plays with balls and cars constantly. He is a spitting image of my father but he was lucky enough to be blessed by the dimple fairy with his daddy's dimples. They get him out of all kinds of trouble. Unfortunately, he was also "blessed" with his daddy's hairline, but I won't go there.

Doesn't he look like a scary monster? :)