Bun of the Tundra.

Now if only he would hibernate for a little while . . .

I'm Still Standing

I'm still here. Just barely.

Somehow, four kids have managed to turn me into a zombie. I really don't know how that happened, what with all of the quality sleep I have been getting lately.

I read an article about a celebrity who recently became a new mother, and she commented on her infatuation with her son. She said that she feels wonderful, and all she and her husband do all day is sit and stare into their baby's eyes.

Oh, me too! I always gaze lovingly down at Bun every morning around two. And then I wake up with a jerk at 3:45 because I've started drooling on his head.

That's some worshipful love right there, my friends.

Of course, a little farther down in the article, this celebrity mom mentions her 24-hour on call baby nurse and her other staff. As in hired people who will clean out her toilets so that she can lounge around and stare at her baby.

I tried to get some other staff, but the best I could do was to give birth to them myself. And they don't take too kindly to scrubbing toilets while I lay around with the baby.

But hey, at least I don't drool on them.

PS: Thank you, Blogger, for restoring my spell-check. You have saved my last nerve.

Duh.

Rob just gave me the six words that sum up my entire life's work, to date:

Rob, Aimee, Francie, Fiver, Sally, Bun.

There it is. My whole world, my friends.

Say It In Six

I first saw the Six Word Autobiography project mentioned in an article in Entertainment Weekly, and since then I have seen it popping up all over the blogosphere (most recently over at Toddled Dredge).

The object is to sum up your life in six little words. I thought I'd try my hand at it, even though I am not functioning at full brain capacity. Let's be honest. I'm not even functioning at half my brain capacity.

All of my offerings seem to focus on the state of my life right now, not on the whole of its history. That should be even more telling of how capable I am of focusing on anything except people who's cumulative age does not equal even half of my current age. (Whoa! That was MATH right there, my friends!)

Anyhoo.

This is what I've got:

• Life is good, despite no sleep.
• Go big or go home, baby! (This was Rob's suggestion)
• Silly Mommy, sleep is for kids.
• Kids are circling; I am outnumbered.
• Skinny people are not always happier. (just a little personal reminder to resolve some issues as I get back on the Weight Watchers wagon. Ugh.)

Reading them over, I realize how lame these are. I think I may come back to this project when I am not running completely on coffee and chocolate-covered pretzels.

But for now, it's your turn! What is your six word autobiography?

And PS?: The disabled spell-check feature is officially on my last nerve. And I had that reserved for one of the kids . . .

Things I Can Post With One Hand and Three Hours of Sleep

People have asked me if I'm getting much sleep, and the short answer is not really. The long answer is my eyes are so tired that it feels like I've been rubbing them with sandpaper. I blink and all it does is remind my eyes how nice it feels to actually close. I hate it when my body taunts itself.

Other than that, we seem to be slowly making the switch to the new normal. Bun is sweet, but has apparently been born with some kind of character defect. He likes to nap only if someone is holding him. And by someone I mean me.

I thought that being the fourth in line meant he would be grateful for any scraps of maternal attention he could get. After all, he is the only one who can get me to wake from sleep without shushing him, shooing him back to his own bed, and/or cursing under my breath.

That's tantamount to being called my favorite around here, my friends.

But Bun doesn't seem to recognize the professed love of an interrupted sleep pattern, so I will just continue to carry him around in the baby sling until he's ready to sleep in his bed. Or until he's fifteen. Whichever comes first.

Now I am girding my loins for Rob's return to work. It will be me against the masses, and the masses have me running a little scared, to be quite honest. It will be hairy around here for a while, but at least my Lenten promise of giving up sleep and sanity will be attainable.

Until then, I apologize for the spotty blog content. And especially for the spelling errors I'm sure I've missed. Blogger has decided that spell-check is for wimps, and so I am now left to do it on my own. I'll let you guess how high spell-checking my blog posts ranks on my to-do list.

The little quizzes below are something fun that Rob found here and here. I don't know that I am "quite timid," although I am usually admitting to something truthful and embarrassing on a daily basis, but my "Harry Potter" profile is pretty accurate.

Oh, the things I do when I should be sleeping. Will I never learn?



As Lucy Pevensie, you may be quite timid and shy, but your heart is in the right place! You make sure you tell the truth, even if it results in embarrassment.





As Minerva McGonagall, your strict facade is complimented by a warm heart, and you always do what is for the greater good.

Give Me An E!

Oh, what a nice little ego boost Karen sent my way.

Of course, she sent it my way several weeks ago and I am just now getting around to posting it. And I haven't updated my blogroll in ages, so she is not on there even though I follow her every day through my Google Reader.

With such lax blog friendliness, it's amazing that she even comes around these parts anymore.

But since she does, I'll just say this for the record: Thank you very much, Karen! You know the way to a shut-in-with-a newborn-and-three-ornery-older-kids-in-the-winter-stay-at-home-mom's heart. (And I really do follow along on my Google Reader, even though I have become a champion lurker.)

Now I get to do a little re-gifting of my own by passing the mighty E along. (I also get to say "Excellent" to myself just like Bill and Ted. Fun!)

As Many As We're Given: In just a couple weeks, Nicole will have five children. Ages 6 and younger. And still she blogs. That's excellent.

Domestic Accident: New to Blogville, I have been laughing with (never at) Domestic Accident ever since she left me a comment and I followed the bunny trail back to her site. Plus, her husband just got her a personalized license plate that didn't come out quite right. Excellent.

It Coulda' Been Worse: DeeDee keeps Thin Mints in her medicine cabinet. That's excellent (and just plain good sense, to boot).

Our Story: Janeen's a fearless advocate for her young son with life-threatening allergies. Makes me feel normal for my constant SPD advocacy on Fiver's behalf, and that's excellent.

SFO Mom: I always come away from Barb's blog feeling uplifted. That's pretty hard to do, so you got it - excellent.

T With Honey: T is an excellent friend in real life, and her blog follows suit.


Now back to my full schedule of kissing the smoothest baby cheeks on the planet. It's grueling, but someone has to do it.

The Reason They Invented Non-Toxic Art Supplies

Francie brought this cheerful watercolor painting up to the kitchen from the playroom.

While admiring it, I also wondered how she managed to produce it, since she has no access to water in the basement.

When questioned, she proudly told us: "I used my own saliva!"

Well, then.

Reaction #1: Very resourceful, Francie.

Reaction #2: Ewwww!

As Rob put it: It's Still Life with a Million Microbes.

Klassy, as always, my friends.

There's No Place Like Home

Hail, Hail! The gang's all here . . .

Never mind the weather, here we are together . . .

Hail, Hail! The gang's all here . . .

We're sure glad that you're here too!

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Welcome home, Baby Bun! The NICU kicked you out, but you'll always have a place here at the HomeFront.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit and drink him in for about four days straight.

From the Depths of My Post-Partum Mind

I am tired tonight. I think all of the driving and the leaving over the past few days have left me a little worn out, even though I crave that little Bun like nobody's business. I'd drive anywhere for him.

Still, a tired brain does not good blog fodder make, so I will just leave you with some random thoughts. They are apropos of exactly nothing but feel free peruse them nonethless:

• At this time last week I was enjoying the Lost premiere in between contractions. This week's episode is much more comfortable, but it seems like a lifetime ago.
• I forgot how much I enjoy getting my body back after childbirth. It's not remotely close to what it used to be, or should be, but it's mine and I can sleep on my stomach. All night.
• Bun has a big cephalohematoma thanks to his trip down the birth canal. I know it's harmless, but it still freaks me out. Since it takes months to disappear, Bun will be wearing quite a few hats this season.
• It's amazing how quickly the mind adapts to circumstances. Last week, I didn't even know how to get to the NICU. At the hospital today, I thought I would rip my hair out if I heard Bun's alarm one more time. Then it went off one more time, and I didn't rip my hair out, I just readjusted him until his oxygen sats rebounded.
• It pays to remember that Bun's delayed arrival is hard on the whole family. The older three have not laid eyes on him, but they are surrounded by Bun. They are good and generous kids, but they get strung out, too. A little extra lovin' goes a long way.

See? I promised you random, and I delivered. Just because I think so highly of you.

Deep Breathing

Hey! Guess who decided that CPAP just wasn't his bag? Guess who complained all night until the nurses took him off the pressurized air and put him on regular oxygen? And guess who decided that his IV nutrition was a drag and he would really like to start using his mouth?

THIS GUY!!!

(Rob snapped this picture in the NICU this morning. The nurse took out the oxygen so he could get a clearer shot of Bun's face. Personally, I enjoy the way Bun has his finger crooked in the brim of his jaunty hospital-issue cap. This kid's got style.)

You, my friends, are some good people. I just wanted you to know.

Your kind words and prayers and encouragement and smiley-face emails have helped me tremendously. More than you know, in fact. They have helped me pull myself up by the bootstraps and realize that I am not the only mother who has spent time in a NICU, her eyes glittering with unshed tears and her jaw gritted with determination, willing her baby to grow and get stronger. You've taken me outside myself, and it's made all the difference.

I am following some good advice from some former NICU moms, and I am using this time to rest and prepare for all the sleepless nights when Bun gets home. I am also finding out that nesting is so much easier when you can see your own feet! There's no big belly to get in the way of all my frenzied organizing and cleaning. Rob has to remind me to rest every once in a while; it's easy to forget that I had a baby less than a week ago when there is no baby here to remind me.

But soon. He'll be here soon . . .

** PS: I just came home from Ash Wednesday Mass, and the choir sang Hosea. When we sang the chorus, I almost cried, but this time because I'm so excited:

"Long have I waited for your coming home to me and living, deeply, our new life."

Get Your Fastnacht On!

Oh, my friends, it's hard to believe that Lent is knocking on my door, but that also means it's Fat Tuesday. And if you've ever spent some time with the Pennsylvania Dutch, then you know it's not simply Fat Tuesday - it's Fastnacht Day!!

I posted about this tradition last year, but I can't refrain from talking about it again. I guess that what makes it a tradition.

Fastnachts are delicious, heavy doughnuts that the Germans in Pennsylvania make only one time a year. It is their last indulgence before the sacrificial season of Lent, and what a way to go out! Every family has their own recipe, or, if you are lazy like me, you can buy them from the local supermarkets or firehouses (provided they have enough little old German ladies left to make them).

Some are made with potatoes, some have holes, some are square, some are covered in powdered sugar, some are plain and then covered in syrup. Any way you look at it, they are some good eats. And they are also considered good luck, so how can you lose?

I plan on getting my hands on a dozen on my way home from seeing Bun, and I'll be sure to eat one in honor of those who have none readily available.

Happy Fastnacht Day!

A Good Guesser

With Rob home to help for a few days, I've had time to comb through all the guesses in the HomeFront Baby Pool and determine the winner. But before I divulge the secret, I just want to say thank you to everyone who played along. Rob and I had fun reading all the entries, and we have raised almost $200.00 for Mary's Shelter! We still have some money coming in, and I know that they will put our donations to good use. Good on you, my friends!


Now, without further ado, the winner of the Baby Pool is . . . .


My friend Tracy! I met Tracy several years ago through our parish's Mother's Group, and she has been a blessing ever since. She's always thinking of others, but now she can think of herself when she chooses her prize.


Tracy guessed that I would have a boy on February 1st weighing 7 pounds, 5.5 ounces. Although a few others guessed the correct gender and date, Tracy came the closest on the weight. No one else was within six and a half ounces but Tracy!


Congratulations to Tracy and many thanks and kudos to you all for humoring an ill-tempered pregnant woman.


Now I just have to think of a way for you to humor an ill-tempered post-partum woman . . . I'm open for suggestions.

The Early Bun Gets the NICU

I am home, but Bun remains in the NICU. Since I'm sitting here next to his empty bassinet and trying not to lose it, I'll just leave you with a couple pictures of our new little boy. When I can string more than two words together, I'll post about the odyssey that was his birth. Thanks for all of your kind and encouraging words and prayers; they are a balm to us right now.

Bun's hanging out under the baby spotlights to help with his jaundice.

His future's so bright, he's got to wear shades.


The newest HomeFront employee meets his Board of Directors.

Snips & Snails & Puppy Dog Tails...

...that's what Bun is made of--because he's a BOY!

After a surprising TURN of events on Thursday, Bun decided to head south for the winter. Our astute Family Physician, carpe-ing the diem, brought Aimee in last night for an induction. Three cytotec, one amniotomy, and a very well placed epidural later, we were very happy to meet...

BUN (AKA "the Golden Pig")

7#12oz
21"
Born at 10:11 AM Friday, 01 February 2008

Aimee did FANTASTIC--and, as a man who has seen more than his fair share of laboring women, I know of whence I speak! She is am amazing, wonderful, lovely woman who was a class act start to finish--what an outstanding job!

The ole Bun had a little trouble adapting to life on dry land--the technical term is transient tachypnea of the newborn (TTN). Although something of a misnomer in his case, as he was not in fact tachypneic (translation = increased rate of breathing), he was grunting and his oxygen saturations were on the low end of normal, so he was rolled down the hall to the NICU for a little CPAP--think of it as tiny current of air blown into his nostrils to keep his lungs partially inflated and make it easier for him to breathe while his lungs sort themselves out. He'll probably be there for a few days, and then be home to begin his reign as fourth heir to the throne (a dubious distinction in this household at best). He's doing very well with the CPAP, and by far outweighs all of the preemies who make up the bulk of the NICU's population.

So, in your prayers tonight, please say one for the Bun...

...and one for the Mom...

...and accept the heartfelt gratitude of the husband writing this post (who apologizes in advance for the poor writing style--the original will be back soon!).

Love,

Aimee, Rob, Francie, Fiver, Sally, and BUN