The Wonder Love: bah, humbug

I am deleting this blog. I hate seeing it neglected on my Blogger dashboard.

Here's the thing: I thought that when I was trying to get pregnant and when I was pregnant and even right after I had Jude that I'd be a different kind of mom than I actually am. I had this silly idea that I'd have a billion cute craft projects, that Jude's nursery would be on Apartment Therapy, that I'd make him adorable little foods to eat, and that I'd lose my pregnancy weight right away and that things would be totally different. I'd be cuter and smaller than I was before I had a kid! Craftier and nicer! Sweeter and more creative!

It seems that I read too many mom blogs.

It's been a year since I've had Jude, I am just now starting to realize that I'm never going to be the new Pioneer Woman or Martha Stewart or Rockstar Diaries or anything like that. Let's be honest: I was never a great crafty lady or chef or photographer. I don't have an "everything is so whimsical and cutesy!" attitude.

I live the kind of life where my kid almost ate a dog turd this morning and I was both extremely disgusted but I was also cracking up. This is my life.

"The Wonder Love" makes me want to barf. I chose that blog name because I thought it sounded like a good name for a the kind of blog that I wanted to have, but now I think the name is incredibly cheesy.

So I'm starting over. I want to have a blog where I can write about Jude almost eating turds, where I can make fun of mom trends, where I can complain when a monkey steals $5 from me (this happened), and where my photos don't have to be perfect, where I don't have to be a perfect mom, and where my son doesn't have to be a perfect child. After all, he tries to eat turds and I laugh about it (Please note: I am also deeply ashamed that Noodles had pooped in her house God knows how long ago and we didn't even notice).

Some might say that I should just give up doing a mom blog altogether, but I love blogging, and my family who lives all over the world loves when I blog. I've been keeping an online diary since 1999 and I miss writing about things other than clothes. I just can't blog at a place called "The Wonder Love" anymore without wanting to punch my blog in its face. So let's all raise a glass and bid adieu to "The Wonder Love". Let's say hello to "Indiana Elsewhere". It'll be up sometime in the next week or so.

In my first post, I'm going to tell you the truth about my birth story. It's going to be way too much personal information.

Who is this?

Three things I never thought I'd be:

Married, a mother, and barefoot in the kitchen.

The people who knew me in high school and college would be so surprised. Frankly, I'm a little surprised, too.

For the record, I'm having the time of my life (despite my strange child and my sleepless nights). I posted this photo on my fashion blog today and thought I'd share here, too!

I thought this only happened in cartoons...

Did you know that 5% of babies hold their breath when they get upset, thus causing them to pass out? Yep. I didn't know this either until today.

Today I discovered that Jude is in that 5%. They're called breath holding spells and according to Jude's pediatrician they are harmless (unless he conks his head on something) and there's nothing I can do about 'em.

Jude got mad when I took away a plastic chair he kept standing on. He started to cry (normal), held his breath (somewhat normal-- I usually just blow on his face), but then he turned blue, his eyes got giant, and he passed out, tumbling backwards to the ground. I thought I was going to pass out from panicking! I scooped him up, blew on his face and held him really close. He came to in a few seconds and was back to his normal/ happy self a couple minutes later. I am the one who is still trying to recover.

My mother-in-law says Chris used to hold his breath, too. If this is any indicator of my child's strong will, I am now certain that he has inherited his dad's wherewithal to get what he wants.

Every parent wants an exceptional baby. Trust me: I'd prefer it if he were in the other 95% on this one.

Limey

Last Friday, Bee and I grabbed lunch at Chuy's and Jude found a lime:

Who else's mouth puckered while watching this?

10 years ago, really?

This weekend, we celebrate.

Bee is even going to watch the baby so we can eat a nice dinner without me having to mush up some peas or take off my top.

Bib of truth

I wore a bib on my fashion blog the other day, but no bib will ever be more fitting than this one:

So glad to have friends that see ridiculous stuff like this at Target and instantly think of me! Thank you, Zackie!

Noodles!

We have decided that it's much too confusing to have a dog named June and a baby named Jude.

We're changing the dog's name to Noodles, which has always been her nickname. We tried to change Jude's name to Noodles since we had June first, but it just wouldn't stick.

Upstanding: can't stand it!

Can't sleep. This is a version of what goes on each night now:

Jude is standing, but he can't seem to figure out how to sit down. Every hour or so we awake to him screaming and crying, standing in his crib.

Why they don't invent crib mattresses with seat belts, I'll never know...

Zzzzzzzz

Guess what, you guys! In one week Jude will be eight months old, and I still have not slept through the night. I was thinking about it today and realized that the last time I slept through the night was September 30, 2010.

This is where you all leave me advice and words of encouragement then I secretly rage alone in my bedroom certain that I will never, ever get more than four hours of sleep ever again.

Oh, but isn't he cute?

Worth it? Probably.

Happy Mother's Day

Almost crawling: part two

Jude opened a drawer today. Has it begun, already? Really? He's not even really crawling, yet. He's more of a scootcher:
You know what, though? I'm not going to wish that he stays cute and little forever. I'd really like to get out of this drooling phase. My entire house is covered in spit-up and drool. I'm thinking about covering the floors in Slip-n-Slides that way we can at least have some summer fun with all the floor wetness accumulating 'round here.

Okay. That was too far. I just grossed myself out thinking about Slip-n-Sliding though a mess of spit-up and drool. Apologies all around.

Jude's first food

Jude's first food was a banana.
He liked it! This week he had avocado. Next week he'll have sweet potatoes. Just none from HEB, though.

This bag is not a toy.

I used to scoff at these:I mean, really. Who would ever give a bag to a baby to play with?

Then my kid got a little mobile. The first thing he ever scooted to? A crunchy plastic bag. He played with that thing like it was Christmas morning (He was supervised! I swear!). Ever since then, my kid's favorite toys have been clinkly bags and envelopes with crunchy cellophane windows.

The good: it saves me money (bags and envelopes are pretty much free).
The not-so-good: I get dirty looks in public when people see my baby flinging a plastic bag around. "He's going to put that on his head and DIE! You are a horrible mother!"

Alas, I am a woman with a strong desire for people's approval, so thus, I took the time time make my child a crunchy toy that is both safe and machine washable. Bonus: it, too, was pretty much free and it's way cuter than a grocery sack!

The amazing designer Ann Kelle sent me some fabric last summer when I first learned to sew, and I hadn't really had the chance to make anything until recently. I used this striped fabric and this owl fabric to make Jude's crunchy toy. I cut out an owl and a J from some felt, stuck a cellophane treat bag inside, and added the ribbon tags (since my kid's favorite part of the toys he does have is their care tags). I followed these instructions and Jude now has a publicly acceptable crunchy/ clinkly toy to play with. Bonus: he can't put this on his head and die.

Like yesterday

I bet every parent says this about their kid at every age, but I swear, this is my favorite age that my kid has ever been!

[outfit photo from my fashion blog]

At six months old, I feel that Jude is in the golden age of babies. He's not yet crawling, so he's not getting into things and wrecking havoc on our house. What I really love is that his personality is becoming more and more evident. He seems cautious and curious, reserved and determined.

It goes by so fast. Has he really been with us for half a year, already? I read this letter on Dear Baby and the tears started rimming my eyes.

These are the things I'm realizing:
Jude is getting heavier and heavier, and there will come a day when he doesn't want me to (and I can't) carry him any more. There will come a day when I can barely remember what his baby soft back feels like under my forearms as I balance him on my hip. He'll get teeth and he'll bite me. He'll grow up and ask the spend the night at a friend's house. We'll go shopping for a backpack and I'll be dabbing my eyes with a tissue as I leave him in his kindergarten classroom. One day, we'll give him the keys to our car and watch him back down the driveway, and Chris and I will clutch each other and wonder, "How is he sixteen already?" There will come a day when I'll look back at this photo and remark, "Wow. Look at how young we were there... it just feels like yesterday..."