8 Months Old!

Where has the time gone?

Grace can now sit up by herself. 

She loves to chase Davey down the hallway in her walker. She officially has 5 teeth with the 6th one trying to make its appearance.

And her favorite treat seems to be paper. Not that it's what we give her. Or feed her for that matter. She's just that darn fast when paper products are near. When we go to church she grabs the program with lightning fast speed, shoves it in her mouth, and takes a big baby bite. She must think its funny because she smiles and then locks down her jaw. Alex and I tag team the kid as we pry open her face and rescue the paper sample from her taste buds. Tissue paper was a big favorite on Christmas day. I'm thinking that maybe we should have named her Billie instead. Of course, I'm kidding. But seriously, I can't imagine paper tasting that good.

On December 21, Grace and I woke up at the usual 6:45 am. I placed her on the living room floor on her tummy like I always do. She immediately flipped over to her back and then pulled herself up into a sitting position. That was a neat trick, I thought, but then for the next 45 minutes she rolled around to different areas of the living room that was of interest and then sat up to check things out. She's been doing it ever since.

We're closer than ever to having her sleep throughout the entire night. She's at about the 7 hour mark depending on the day. She truly sleeps the longest when she sleeps in our bed right in between Alex and I. I'm not sure why. Maybe because it's warm? Or that she can feel us both next to her? Or that the pacifier (we call it a Soothie) retrieval system (aka Mom grabbing it and putting it in her mouth) is much faster than in the crib? I'm thinking perhaps all of the above. I read a blog comment the other day where this mom was talking about co-sleeping. She said she didn't co-sleep as some political, hippie kind of philosophy. She said she co-sleeps because she doesn't want to get up at dark o'clock to find a pacifier. Yep. That would be me.

Well, New Year's is right around the corner. I hope that 2013 leaves you in good health and that 2014 finds you safe and loved. Happy New Year!

Taking Christmas Pictures is a Serious Business

This is the picture that I chose for our Christmas card this year.

This is the picture I WANTED to use for our Christmas card this year.

Or maybe it was this one...

Or this one...

Or maybe this one...

Either way, Grace was not in the mood at all to take pictures that day. I managed to get some half-hearted smiles out of her. I tried singing and crunching water bottles and making funny noises. Nope. Apparently she's smarter than that. This kid can be down-right serious when she wants to be. She doesn't fall for no ordinary shenanigans. You'd better be talented in whatever tom-foolery you're about to present if you want a genuine smile to happen. 

Tomorrow is Christmas day and our Christmas wish to you is that your day is filled with joy, happiness, peace, and love. Ooh.... and lots of presents! :)

Merry Christmas!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today Grace turned 7 months old. Sometimes it's hard to believe that a mere 7 months ago she could hardly hold up her head and talked in her sleep.

She's happy most of the time. Unless she hungry. Or bored. Or tired. Or bored.

Who's #1?!

I love her little laugh and that she has to curl her toes when she's sitting up.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving for all my American friends and family. This year we're preparing a proper Thanksgiving feast. I found a recipe for brined turkey and decided to try it out to see if it makes a difference. Also, I've always stuffed the turkey with a bread stuffing but this year I'm going to stuff it with aromatics (apple, onion, cinnamon stick, fresh thyme, sage, and rosemary). I'm also making green bean casserole, broccoli casserole, mashed sweet potatoes, cornbread stuffing, cranberry sauce, turkey gravy, pumpkin bread pudding, and apple pie. I have it all timed out so that everything will be ready at the same time. I'm hoping it works. I made the desserts today and I've already baked the sweet potatoes and the casseroles are ready for the last minute touches before they go into the oven after the turkey comes out. I'm way ahead of the curve this year and I'm hoping it pays off.

Thanksgiving isn't just about the food. A few years ago I posted the 30 things that I was thankful for. Although I'm still thankful for every thing on that old list, some of them now seem a little superficial. Maybe I was trying to be creative and fill the space. Or maybe I truly meant it. Maybe both. It was easy to list the materialistic things when I thought that a family was never going to be in my near future. God has changed all that, of course, when he gave me his free gift-Grace. This Thanksgiving that word has two meanings now. The first, is his grace that I have been forgiven. Completely. And can now stand in his presence without fear and give glory to his name. The second, is my daughter. She is an unbelievably beautiful surprise that has allowed hope and healing to fill my heart once again.

May you have a wonderfully blessed Thanksgiving!

Our 14/7 Anniversary

7 years ago I was young 

and free 

and as independent as one could ever hope to be.

So I want to thank you

for showing up to the church

and saying, "I Do"

and changing my life for the better.

Half Way to 1!

Every day she gets stronger and more strong-willed. She wants to stand in between my legs or sit all the time now and she is starting to terrorize the dog when I put her in her walker.

Blowing bubbles and making funny faces gets a laugh every time.

Hanging out while Mommy does the laundry is always a comfortable ride.

Especially when the laundry basket turns into her own personal playpen!

And of course, kitchen sink baths with Daddy blowing bubbles is the best part of the day!

5 Months Old!

Grace is a Pro when it comes to holding up her head now. The bobbly-headed baby my sister was so afraid of is long gone.

She's been rolling around quite a bit despite the fact that Grandma Pavlovic is in town and nearly refuses put her down because she doesn't "want her to cry". Believe me, this kid hardly cries real tears. I'm not the "Cry It Out" kind of mom. She does fuss and some days I think she's more fussy than usual because she constantly held, but that might be another story.

She's even starting to laugh and has taken an interest in Davey whenever he decides to grace us with his presence.

I'm starting to get real laughs out of her too. Of course they're adorable. She has a down-right fascination with her toy lions. There's one stuffed lion that she has a hard time napping without. I call him Lyon. She loves Lyon. It doesn't matter what kind of mood she's in, as soon as she see's Lyon she is all smiles. She'll grab onto his wild mane of hair and squish his face as hard as possible to hers, yank him back again, and give a little laugh. If Lyon doesn't end up Real someday, I will be utterly shocked.

4 Months Old!

My how time is moving along. It turns out that Grace is a LONG baby. During her 4 month check up she measured 26 inches!

The smiles are much more frequent now. She's not really laughing yet but she enjoys watching Mommy make lots of funny faces.

And she's discovered her feet. Well really, just one foot, and spends a good deal of the day trying to taste it.

The one question I get the most...How is Davey around the new baby? The answer is fine actually. He wants nothing to do with her. He ignores her and leaves whatever room she is in. He seems pretty upset that this little squeaking creature monopolizes so much of my time. She's not too interested in the dog either. She rarely looks in his direction during the rare times that he's in the same breathable atmosphere. I figure he won't take a real interest in her until she's able to hand over the good stuff, like her dinner.

Visitors!

 First came Grandma Harris. She was wonderful!

Then when Grace was 3 weeks old we headed up to Omaha for Uncle Zoran's graduation ceremony from Creighton University.

Then Grandpa and Grandma Anna came to visit. Grandpa was sweet.

Grandma Anna was amazing!

Baka (Grandma in Serbian) came next. She was so excited to hold her grandbaby.

And then Aunt Emily.

And then my bestie, Anna, with her sister and son. There were cuddles, long chats, and great BBQ.

3 Months Old!

Grace is growing like a little weed. She loves to sit up and gets quite angry when she has to spend time on her tummy instead of being able to sit up.

She's also starting smile more but she's still very serious most of the day.

Here's the coveted smile that I look forward to every day. This particular smile is for Daddy (probably her favorite person).

Happy 4th of July

Happy Fourth of July!

(Grace at 9 weeks old)
She's a spitting image of her Daddy here!

2 Months Old!

I'm having a hard time believing that my tiny baby is 2 months old already! You might be asking what happened to her 1 month picture? Um yeah...last week was the first time since she was born that I finally knew what day of the week it was. Sleeping in 3 hour increments for almost 2 months does amazing things to how one perceives time. Forget water boarding- the Government should interrogate  suspected criminals with a series of crying baby, sleep, and food deprivation. It's just so sad that I've been too tired to enjoy the "tiny baby" stage. I guess that's what grand babies are for.

I'm starting to get the hang of this thing called "motherhood"(I can hear you laughing). Grace is starting to smile more often and cry a little less. This is good because I swear a few weeks ago I was sitting in the bathroom and asked her if she wanted a new mommy, one that would make her cry less and smile more. The smiles make it much easier even if they happen less than I expected.

I discovered that the formula that I was feeding her was causing some of the horrible gas pains she was experiencing, so I changed from Similac to Enfamil Gentlease. I truly had a completely different baby within 24 hours. Then I stopped slightly warming her formula a week later and all the remaining issues disappeared. She doesn't have much patients for my learning curve, but in my defense, I never intended or expected to bottle feed her formula. I was honestly looking forward to breastfeeding and all the benefits that come with it. Instead I was dealt a different hand. Roll with the punches and make sure you buy more than 2 bottles just in case.

The house guests arrived non-stop starting when Grace was 12 days old and will continue through July. I'm not sure if our dwindling income can sustain such an entourage but it will be nice to see everyone.

48 Hours Later

48 hours after bringing Grace home from the hospital we were told by the doctor that Grace had to be readmitted for jaundice. A wicked case of jaundice, I might add. It took Grace 5 days to recover. At the time it was the scariest thing I've ever gone through mostly because we were absolutely helpless in what we could do. Here Grace is getting ready for her 5 days of light therapy.

Her first extended tanning bed experience.

Daddy holding Grace while she was still in the NICU.

My tan little baby fresh out of the box! We're waiting to get our final discharge papers to go home.

She got to come out only for feedings and diaper changes. She went in with a jaundice count of 8, which then spiked to 12, 14, 17, and 19 before it started to come down. She was blood tested twice a day, which was sad. I spent all the days with her because Alex had to work and it just happened at the same time as finals week. Then all of a sudden her numbers started to drop dramatically and we were home by May 5th.

That's when the fun started. Kind of. Not really. Hospital Baby Grace is way different than At Home Baby Grace. Hospital Grace is a perfect, quiet little angel. At Home Grace cries. A lot. And for long periods of time but randomly. I had NO IDEA how much new babies cry and for seemingly no reason. At Home Grace doesn't like anything from 5 pm until 9 pm and wants the entire neighborhood to know it. At Home Grace only sleeps if she is on your chest. In other words, someone has to hold her all the time and Alex is working 12 hour days. I am all alone and am just about at my wits end.

Hospital Grace and At Home Grace do have something in common: throwing up liquids through her nose. Before we left the hospital the first time we had to watch several videos about SIDS. Alex was convinced that we had to take turns staying up watching her sleep just to make sure sudden death didn't take place. I laugh now but those videos were fairly crazy to watch. The bubbling liquid that Grace silently chokes on in the middle of the night is even worse. I have to sleep sometime, so the kid sleeps with us and will until this disturbing behavior stops.

I've started to sing Mommy Lullaby's whenever I get the chance. Those are the ones you make up and will never be on the Baby Top 40 charts because the melody changes constantly along with the tone, volume, and pitch. My favorite so far is "Eskimo Kisses For My Nordic Baby". If she had her father's lovely skin tone it would be Olive Baby but she's pasty white like me so Nordic Baby it is. The song is not complete without the appropriately timed Eskimo kiss. I also have a "It's Time To Go To Sleep" Song. Simple enough, I repeat those 6 words over and over again until she's fallen asleep.

Grandma Harris will be here tomorrow. The visitors will be non-stop until June from here on out. I'm looking forward to having an extra set of well-experienced hands around to help.

And The Good News Is...

After almost 30 hours of natural labor, 

Grace Elizabeth Pavlovich, 

entered the world on April 27, 2013

 at 1:35 pm

6 pounds, 6 oz

18.5 inches long. 

Mom is doing great! Dad is in love!

God is so Gracious!

From Plum to a Cardboard Box

I'm officially 38 weeks along today. I have 14 days to go. Again, in theory.

I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable. The weather hasn't been all that great so my walking has been severely restricted. The dog is a little stir crazy and I don't blame him because so am I.

I did something daring yesterday. I measured my belly. This isn't really an unusual thing. It happens quite often at baby showers as a game. The guests try to guess with a piece of string how long around the expectant mum is in the middle. The soon-to-be mommy looks mortified, the guests laugh, and the winner gets a prize. It's all in good fun. Except, I won't be having a baby shower so the only one laughing is me. Which is a little pathetic, actually. Oh well. So the measuring tape said 46 inches. Not bad given that my bust is 45. It's been an amazing adventure watching my uterus grow from the size of a plum to that of a cardboard box. I wonder how big I'll actually be when it's all said and done.

Falling asleep has become increasingly difficult. I'm seriously propping my stomach up on the side with a fleece pillow. Then I put another pillow under my arm pit and another one under my back. I'm pretty sure I look like the U.S.S. Arizona in dry dock. Some nights it works well. Other nights, it just doesn't matter. It's become painful to lay on my side and lying on my back isn't an option unless my goal is total system failure. I'm kind of at a loss about what to do. I've heard tons of stories about how the little unborn ninja would practice kung-fu kicking mom in the ribs every night but no one has ever told me about how much it hurt as everything shifts from left to right or vise versa. This makes me wonder how "normal" I am. And while I'm at it, sharing secrets and all, I have the distinct pleasure of experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions for extended periods of time that usually only happen on one half of my abs. Today the left hand side of my body has been practicing its own workout version of the Abs of Steel while yesterday it was the right side.

No nesting yet. Well, not the cleaning kind of nesting. I have no desire this week to clean at all. This, of course, got me thinking (which happens often since I am unemployed and have nothing else really to do). Anyway, I was thinking the other day that maybe if I start cleaning some really crazy things I will trick my body into thinking its really time to go into labor and then the more active labor will start!

Yeah, that's just nuts. I'm right there with you. I think I'll stick with the measuring tape experiment instead.

30 Days To Go!

I have 30 days to go!

So I thought I would share some of the crazy theories I have heard on whether I am having a boy or a girl, because, just in case you didn't know this, it is still a secret-even to us.

• Heart beat: Fast heart beat means its a girl; slow heart beat means its a boy. I find this interesting because at one doctor's appointment early on, the heart beat was 136 beats per minute. Then for the next, say 6 appointments, the heart beat ranged between 145 and 152. During the last doctor's appointment, the heart beat was 135. So does that mean I had a boy in the beginning, a girl in the middle, and a boy at the end? Or am I pregnant with the highly rare hermaphrodite baby?
• If I carry high, its a girl; if I carry low its a boy. Interesting, yet again, but I happen to have carried the baby directly in the middle right across the belly button like a football. The kid likes to hang out sideways like my uterus is a relaxing summer hammock. 

Here come the fun, yet more bizarre ones.

• If I'm beautiful during the pregnancy it means its a boy. If I'm ugly, then it means I'm carrying a girl. The theory behind this one is that little girl babies suck, drain, and destroy the mom's beauty and take it for themselves. In essence they are beauty vampires. Little boy babies couldn't care less. Alex has been asked this question many times by my in-laws. I think he's smart enough to give the right answer each and every time (of course, I look beautiful! Duh). It's hard to believe this is a serious question but it makes me laugh anyway. On a side note, I have a family member who says that while his wife was pregnant he found her to be extremely unattractive (even though he says he would never have told her that) and they ended up having a boy.
• If my lips are full then I'm having a girl. If my lips are thin and dry then I'm having a boy. So how does that work out with Beautiful Theory above. Can someone be beautiful and yet have dry, cracked, genetically weak lips? How can you be ugly but have a supple and moist kisser? By the way, I've always had small thin lips. That hasn't changed. Even with lipstick and lipliner.
• Alex was instructed to do the following to find out if it is a boy or a girl. Wait until I fall asleep and then pour a pinch of salt on my head and then watch me. If I touch my hand to my nose, it will be a boy. If I touch my hand to my lips then it will be a girl. My response to this was: if you pour salt on my head while I'm sleeping, I'm going to punch you in the lips.
• Another crazy one. Alex is to thread a needle and then stick it in one of my veins. (WTH?) If the thread moves in a circle its a boy. If it vibrates back and forth its a girl. (Oh, the thread will move all right!) There is an American version of this where you just dangle to needle over a vein to see what it does. Something about the iron content in mum's blood. But I take prescription prenatal vitamins so this test would be null and void right off the bat. Plus, with my on-going fear and revulsion of needles, Alex knows better to ever attempt this. 

Fun times! Honestly, there is no way of knowing if its a boy or a girl until its born. Even sonograms get is wrong every once in a while. We'll all just have to wait a little longer.

I did go to the doctor today for my twice monthly appointment. It turns out that I have already dilated to 3 cm and I'm 75% effaced. Sweet! That means I only have 7 cm to go! It also means that the baby could be here before May 5th. Any takers on when the real due date might be?

Rotisserie Chicken

This looks delicious. Probably because I didn't have to cook it nor do I have to clean up the mess afterwards. Unfortunately, this story isn't actually about this fine specimen of roasted hen. It's about me.

Like most third trimester pregnant women, I don't sleep all that well at night. I gave up blankets and sheets about 2 months ago. Poor Alex has had the distinct pleasure of sleeping through the tail end of winter and early spring in a house that is a cool 69-70˚F. In my defense, if there is any, I am not only sharing my internal space with another creature, but the bed with my 220 pound husband and a 6.5 foot long, 140 pound Great Dane. Imagine lying on your side of the bed. Now curl up your legs into a sitting position. Place a stretched out dog under your bottom like he's the chair. Now add said husband to the other side of the bed. Make sure that he's clearly on his side of the bed. Please, no touching. You're far to irritated for that. Need to stretch out? The husband has unquestionably boxed you out so you're forced to drape your top leg over the backside of a massive and now snoring dog. Between your natural internal core temperature that rivals molten lava and the heat given off by the two Coppertop batteries lying next to you, the room is now a toasty 75˚F. After about an hour, I give up and kick the dog off the bed. He has his own bed after all. Complete with clean sheets and matching curtains.

But this is only half of it. Here is how the rest of the night goes. I fall asleep on my left hand side. My left arm is under my pillow stretched up toward the headboard. The other arm is wrapped around a pillow that helps to prop me up. I fall asleep. An hour and a half later, I wake up to find that my left arm and hand are painfully asleep. So I flip onto my back. That works for about 10 minutes until my kidneys feel like they've been squished paper thin. I then roll to my right side and assume the same beginning position (arm up, pillow propped) for another hour and a half. I wake up to painful zombie arm, flip to kidney squish, and rotate back to starting position. Repeat this action ALL NIGHT LONG. Don't forget to add in bathroom checks every 3 to 4 hours.

It's also worth mentioning that it's very difficult to climb over ones self. I'm not huge, mind you. I can still tie my shoes (with 36 days to go) and bend over without tipping over. But shifting a sleeping being encased in its own watery habitat isn't easy. Try sleeping with a 10 pound aquarium strapped to your stomach one night and we might be on the same page.

So now that you have all the background needed, I will proceed with my tale. On one particularly molten hot lava night, I felt like I was flipping every 30 minutes. It dawned on me this must be what a Rotisserie chicken must feel like.

So I say this out loud, "I'm tired of feeling like a Rotisserie chicken!" It's probably 4 am.

"Who's eating chicken?," peacefully sleeping husband inquires.

"NO! I'm the chicken!" I exclaim in desperation, followed by a helpless sigh.

"Please go back to sleep." As if this is a simple command that can be simply executed.

I will. Soon. Don't worry. I'm hoping for a full night sleep in about 20 years.

Baby Brain

We've been experiencing a really strange phenomenon around here lately. It's something that I've only read about but I've never seen in person. Kind of like angel sightings and UFO's. This one seems only to strike households that are expecting a baby. It's called "Baby brain". If I understand the concept correctly, the baby has some magical, mystical power that sucks away average, everyday brain power that keeps one organized and on track. It's a fascinating concept, especially since I'm not the one suffering from it- Alex is.  I've been trying to capture as much of it as possible on film. I need the physical proof because I know its only a matter of time before the denial stage of this phenomenon sets in. Here is my list of proof so far:

• Weight gain. Today, I have about 38 days left before Baby P is due. I've gained 14 pounds. Alex has gained 25. 

• Ice cream in the refrigerator. I haven't had one constant "craving" throughout this pregnancy yet. One week I'll eat a grilled cheese sandwich every day then the next week peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Last week I only wanted to eat Taquitos covered in cheddar cheese and sour cream. A couple of weeks ago, I had chocolate ice cream once a day. I think the only thing I have consistently gone through has been bags upon bags of Cutie Mandarin oranges. I demolish a bag every 3 or 4 days. Anyway, one night Alex fixed up some bowls of ice cream. It was tasty and delicious. He even cleaned up afterwards. Come the next day, as I opened the refrigerator to make some breakfast this is what I found:

          Half a container of completely melted chocolate ice cream. Make that foamy chocolate milk product. 

• Dryer sheets. That's the box of Bounce dryer sheets in with the laundry. The intended-to-be-used single sheet was sitting on the shelf.

• Forgotten keys. Alex has now forgotten his work keys at home on average of 3 times a week. Today included. They haven't moved. They're right where he always leaves them. On the hook, by the front door. 

• Razor blades. Several times now, he's reached in the drawer for a new disposable razor, removed the blade cover and tossed the razor in the garbage.

• The sliding glass door. Just about every day, Alex will open the back sliding glass door, stick his head out, and evaluate what the weather is like outside. It doesn't matter if its raining, snowing, sunny, or a tornado is headed directly for the house. He doesn't open it just a little. He opens it wide enough to hang his manly frame out the opening at the most unnatural angle. I would not be surprised if one day his hand slips and he falls down the stairs. Well, today, he forgot to shut the door behind him. I watched him turn right around, walk toward me, kiss me goodbye and walk out the garage door to go to work. Door wide open. Thank goodness the dog was sleeping in the other room. Our backyard is not fenced in and Davey is not trained to stay put. 

• Mood swings. This just might be my favorite. My mom asked me the other day if I'm starting to get cranky. The answer: not that I can tell so far. Well, at least not me. Alex has been very cranky. Some days he wakes up cranky and won't be himself again until after he eats lunch. The other night he came home from work early and lied on the couch while I was finishing up a letter. Thinking that he wanted to take a nap I quietly kept myself busy. Nope. He wasn't napping. He was pouting. Turns out he wanted to go see a movie and my thank you card writing took to long. (Seriously, it was one card. That takes, what 7 minutes if one writes slowly.) So he put himself to bed at 7:30 pm. With no dinner. On another occasion, I asked if I could have a bit of his hazelnut chocolate cake roll. A tantrum followed. The other day, I wanted to sleep on his side of the bed (he sleeps on the left side, I'm supposed to sleep on my left side, it's easy to sit up when you don't have to crawl over yourself just to go to the bathroom). Another tantrum. And I thought I was the one who was pregnant. Yikes.

I bring up all these points not to husband-bash, of course. It's just that none of this has ever really been normal behavior. At least not in the past 13 years. Alex has always been a very routine-like kind of guy and likes his stuff to be in the same place.

What can I say? I kind of like this version of baby brain.

Happy Anniversary Little Home!

5 years ago today, we moved into our first home. Our decision to purchase a home instead of continuing to rent or live in an apartment has been one of the best decisions we have ever made. Almost every night I thank God for the walls that protect us from the wind, rain, snow, and heat; the windows that let light in; the roof that gives us constant shelter; and the carpet that cushions our toes.

It has seen sadness (the death of my father) and joy (the home-coming of a new puppy, the announcement of expecting a baby). It has received friends and family, a mouse, and too many spiders to count. It has concealed arguments that are long forgotten, tender days of forgiveness, and late nights of study. I'm not sure how long God has planned for us to live in this house but given the journey that we have enjoyed thus far, I know that we're in the right hands.

Happy Anniversary little home!

Davey's 4th Birthday

My puppy isn't much of a puppy anymore. I still call him Puppy. He naps a lot now a days. His current activity of choice seems to be sun-bathing.

He still enjoys playing tug-of-war and will demolish a 5 knotted tied rope in about a week. For his birthday he got a new toy, a granola treat, and dinner complete with a can of tasty, yet expensive, dog food.

He's getting a little more white in the face as the years go by but he'll always be my my Velcro Pup,  Monster Monster, Black Dragon, Mush-mouth, Sweet Prince, and Baby.

Happy Birthday David! Pappa Puppy and I love you!