Mom at work

Last week was my first week back to work since having Preston. While I love my job, I had been dreading July 23 since May. I enjoyed the lazy little routine we had gotten into — our morning naps during Kathie Lee and Hoda, folding clothes while singing children's church songs, and all the cuddling, cooing, slobbering and smiling that comes with a baby. We had a good thing going, and I miss being able to be with him all day.

My first day back, everyone was so sweet, sending me texts and Facebook messages, bringing me little gifts and words of encouragement. They were all a great comfort to me. But during that first week, there was one thing that changed my whole perspective.

Coming back was something I struggled with. It broke my heart that I wasn't going to be the one to take care of him. And then one of Preston's sitters sent me a picture of him that said, "Thanks for working hard for us, Mommy!"

As strange as it sounds, that was something I hadn't realized. I was back at work for him. I was going to work to help support our family, not because some mean, outside force was dragging me away from my baby. At this time, for this season of my life, this is the best way I can take care of him. And that changed my entire attitude on going back to work.

Do I still miss him during the day? Painfully so. But I know that when Preston reaches a time in his life when he needs me at home, God will provide that means. For now, I find comfort in the fact that this is how I can take care of him — and squeeze in as many drooly kisses as I can in between.

Olympic fever

The Olympics are finally here! I have been chattering on for months nowabout how much I couldn't wait, and I think Scott is tired of it. While he geeks out about the Oscars, I am addicted to the Olympics — specifically women's gymnastics.

When I was younger, my sister and I took gymnastics along with our two best friends — also sisters. Our love of gymnastics peaked at the same time of the 1996 Olympics and the Magnificent Seven. This was the year the women's team took home the gold and Kerri Strug vaulted her way into infamy on a broken ankle. 

During that summer, the four of us would turn our friends' living room into an Olympic venue, cartwheeling around the floor, balancing along lines in the hardwoods, and vaulting over the couch. We each took on the name of one of the gymnasts — I was Dominique Moceanu — and marked down scores on a Little Tikes blue easel (Remember that?). My sister was Kerri Strug (they had the same, unfortunate, hairstyle) and played up the limping and heroics of the role. We even had gymnast Barbies who we would reenact various routines with. Those were good times. (We would even do rhythmic gymnastics with our Ribbon Dancers. You have to remember those.)

To add to my anticipation, in this year's games, a Harding graduate whom I had the privilege to interview for the magazine will be running in a track and field event! Janet Cherobon-Bawcom will run in the 10,000 meters August 3, and I'll definitely be streaming it at work and cheering her on.



So, while I might be too old to be an Olympic gymnast, I will still be firmly planted in front of my TV dreaming of flipping and flying my way to gold. Plus, I've got to find a sport to dedicate Preston's life to so that some day Pampers will make a commercial honoring me as an Olympic mom.

Monthly Preston: Month one

Has it been a month already? It feels like it's been a blink of an eye, yet we've been doing this forever. My fear was that we'd get this baby home and have the hardest time adapting to him. When I was worrying about being prepared, a friend of mine told me that God made Preston just for us and that we would know just how to take care of him. And thankfully we do! He's a huge blessing, and we've loved getting to know him this month. Here's what he's been up to ...

Weight: About 10 pounds
Length: 21.5 inches
Likes: His fuzzy changing table cover, bath time with daddy, his paci, mealtimes, singing with mommy (his favorite song is — for some reason — Carly Rae Jepson's "Call Me Maybe"), sleeping on someone, his mobile, lots of hugs and kisses, and his little rocking seat.
Dislikes: Having to wait too long to eat, being cold, hiccups, taking his Vitamin D drops, sleeping somewhere other than on someone (although I've learned to trick him into sleeping in his bassinet), not being held, and socks.

At the hospital; going home; first day home; snoozing; one week old; after bath; two weeks old; just like daddy; three weeks old; a boy and his paci.

Happy one month, P! We're loving getting to know you!

Preston's birth story

He's laying here on my stomach, not far from the place he stayed for the first nine months we got to know each other. His snores are somewhere between a bird's chirps and little dolphin squeaks. He's a little Houdini who can weasel his hands out of any covering so he can put them in his mouth. He loves cuddling and hates being cold. He cries very little (usually when he's cold) and sleeps well during the night. He is fascinated by the TV and unmoving ceiling fan, and he loves for his daddy to sing and play guitar for him. And it's hard to believe he wasn't here three weeks ago.

It's been a whirlwind of a three weeks, and I figured it was time to recount how we got this little miracle here in the first place.

At 39 weeks, I sat in my doctor's office as he explained that my son was probably 7.5 to 8 pounds and that with his size and my size, I might not be able to deliver him naturally. We decided that a c-section was the best option and scheduled it for the coming Wednesday, three days after my due date. It wasn't what I had planned, but I'm incredibly thankful my doctor made that call rather than letting me labor for hours only to end up in the same situation.

Wednesday morning, May 2nd, after sleeping as poorly as kids before Christmas, Scott and I arrived at the hospital, checked in and went to our room. My c-section was scheduled for 9 a.m., but I didn't end up going back until 11. The anticipation was killer. We spent it watching Kathie Lee and Hoda toasting Wednesday Wines-day... I thought that was every day for them.

Right before it was time to go back. It looks like I have a pillow under my hospital gown. I don't.

I've never had any kind of surgery, and I'm pretty sure the only other time I'd spent the night in the hospital was when I was born. But I wasn't nervous about the spinal block, c-section or recovery. I was just ready to meet my son.

After answering a lot of medical questions over and over, including how many children I had (just this one) and why I was having a c-section (he's just too big), I was wheeled back in a sexy blue hair net as Scott followed in blue scrubs. This was it!

Scott waiting to meet me in the OR. He's my Dr. McDreamy.

Once I was the most insane numb and the blue curtain was pitched, it was time for the procedure to begin. On TV, when they depict childbirth, it's a very dramatic moment. The music swells and after one more I-don't-think-I-can-do-it push, the baby cries, the doctor announces boy or girl, and the parents look at each other with tears in their eyes and bright smiles.

I had wondered prior to the c-section if I would feel robbed of that heartwarming moment, what I thought I would experience until five days prior. But when my doctor lifted my beautiful baby boy over the curtain and I saw him for the first time, I knew that my moment was perfection. There was nothing like it.

Our first family photo

Before I saw him though, I only knew two things about him, which my doctor had announced as he was delivering him. "He's got a lot of hair!" and "He's a big baby!" I didn't think he looked that big, but he did weigh 8 pounds 14 ounces and supposedly, compared to the other babies in the nursery, looked like quite the bruiser.

The hardest part was that, after nine months of his being all mine, they had to take him away from me. Scott and Preston went to the nursery while they stitched me back up and wheeled me back to my room for recovery for 45 minutes.

I was very very thankful for the lactation nurse, a woman who is adamant about getting babies to breast feed as soon as possible. She asked my recovery nurse how soon she'd be finished. When that nurse was uncertain, the lactation nurse said she was bringing me my baby in 10 minutes, ready or not. I watched the clock and, at 10 minutes exactly, Preston was in my arms for the first time.

Me and my boy!

After that, Wednesday was a bit of a blur since they gave me a magic pain killer button to push whenever I needed it. And once my lower body numbness wore off, I really needed it!

We stayed in the hospital until Friday. Taking him home was an incredible feeling — a mix of overwhelming, underprepared, and exactly what we wanted all in one. We've loved these three weeks with our little buddy and can't imagine life without him now. He's pretty much perfect. I guess we'll keep him!

With all those wrist bands, I thought I'd been club hopping.

For more pictures of Preston's arrival, check out Cassie Jones' blog. She took some amazing photos!

"I'm Pregnant and I Know It"

In a YouTube parody video, do you look for ...

- references to maternity pants?
- awkward pregnant dancing?
- working a variety of pregnancy truths in an LMFAO song?

If you answered yes to any of those, then this video is for you. It will definitely make you laugh (but, if you are pregnant, I would advise your not laughing too hard, you know, to avoid accidents).

Preston's room

When it came time to decorate Preston's room, we knew before we knew the gender that our son's room would have a "dapper gentleman" theme. We liked the idea of keeping it sort of preppy and boyish without being over the top cartoony.

With his arrival only days away, Scott and I finally finished up our slow assembling of Preston's room so that we'd have it checked off our list. We're very happy with the results!

Here is the view of his room from the doorway. His room is also the guest room, so we have a queen-sized bed sharing the space. We fiddled with a few different configurations, but after moving the bed several times, we decided where it was originally worked best.

I really love his crib. When we were ordering it, it was in our shopping cart and saw the same looking one suggested to buy. After clicking on it, I realized it was a four-inch shorter version, perfect for petite moms. We quickly made the swap, and I'm glad we did. Scott's brainchild was the banner in the corner, which I really like.

In the back corner are all of Preston's books, toys in canvas boxes and Boppy. Scott also came up with framing the little dog pictures, which are actually stationery cards. I think they're my favorite. There's nothing cuter than dogs in clothes.

I was so happy to learn that there was coordinating queen-sized bedding to match Preston's crib bedding. Let's just hope he likes plaid when he's 14, because that's what he's getting. The shelf over the bed is for pictures of Preston to be added later on, and I painted the canvas on it now. The teddy bear was Scott's when he was a kid.

To the left of the doorway when you walk in is his changing table/dresser. We have a "Rules to being a gentleman" print that will go over it once we get it framed and a navy pennant with his name on it. The wonderful thing about the dresser is that the changing table comes off, so it can be used past the diaper stage.

And in case you were wondering, here's what the room looked like before! It was a catch-all for shipping boxes and Scott's sweaters, apparently, and had very little furniture. It's a crazy transformation.

Now all we need is our precious boy to make it complete!

Happy birthday, Scott!

We had been dating six months, and Scott's was the first birthday that we got to celebrate as a couple. I spent hours scouring the Internet for the perfect birthday gift to please his extremely picky tastes.

Would he really wear that shirt? Would he like this wallet? What about concert tickets? But to what? Gift cards aren't romantic, are they?

It took me a while to decide, but I ultimately did. Since then, getting to know Scott better hasn't made the gift buying process any easier. In fact, it's only increased in difficulty.

Around any gift-buying holiday, I'm always lamenting, "Scott! You're so hard to buy for!" Lately I've learned that this struggle to find the perfect gift is actually a complement to me. Because while he has extremely particular taste, at the end of it all, he chose me.

And when I realize that, I don't mind his pickiness at all.

Happy birthday to the love of my life! Thank you for being so picky.