Monday, June 25, 2012

Teen Mom

We had change jars all over the house. I have great memories of pouring them out on the floor and rolling them up to take to the bank to cash in. We would get dressed up and drive down to the bank and get our money. I’m pretty sure I should have gotten a bigger cut for all of the work I put into it now that I’m thinking about it.  Dad used to tell me that he knew I was different from Carol and Andrea because whenever I would ask for change I would ask for the “shiny coins” when he would try to just give me the pennies. My point here is, I’m not one of those girls that played house, pretended their dolls were babies, and couldn’t wait to be a mom. I played banker.

Four weeks before my due date I found myself panicking about becoming a mother. I was feeling woefully under qualified so to cheer myself up one morning I decided to settle in for a Teen Mom marathon on Netflix. (Keep in mind I was on bed rest and miserable at this point). No matter how scared I was about becoming a mama, at least I was going to be a better mom than them, right? I wasn’t going to beat Andrea in the mom department but by golly I was going to beat someone (at what point do I worry about my competitiveness?).

Yesterday, I was really picking on myself.   It went something like this:
• Pregnancy: Epic Fail.
• Career: On hold.
• Labor: 12 hours of labor before a c-section – Fail.
• Newborn: Success. He was pretty perfect for 3 months.
• Breastfeeding: Whew – a lot harder than people think.  I only made it 4 months. Fail.
• Sleep Training: Fail. Stupid acid reflux.

You get the picture. In the last week, we are finally seeing some progress with little man’s flux but now we are getting into teething territory and both of us caught a stomach virus this weekend (it's too soon to talk about the 48 hours of misery the Hurt household dealt with).  So to cheer myself up, I decided to watch an episode of Teen Mom. I literally laughed out loud. I’ve been married for nearly five years, have a master’s degree, own a house and a car, and have a loving family. Of course I’m in a better situation than the Teen Mom’s. Of course I should be a better mom than them. It’s like asking a woman to hit from the men’s tees, but still. A win is a win. It’s ridiculous what will make me feel better.

(30 year old) Teen Mom

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Happy Father's Day

Dear Teddy,
Let me explain.  I know that you’ll have lots of questions about your dad.  Why does he insist on wearing tacky Hawaiian shirts on vacation?  Why does he make up silly songs to describe what he’s doing at that moment?  Why does he use funny voices?  The answer is, your dad is one in a million. 

He doesn’t fit into any stereotype or can’t be defined.  I promise you that he will take you on adventures beyond your wildest imagination, make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, hold you when you are sad, and teach you wonderful and exciting things.  You are very lucky to have him as a father.  There is no doubt in my mind that he will be your best friend growing up, but he loves you so much already and you are just barely 5 months old.  Before life gets in the way and I forget all the little things that he does now to love you, I wanted to take some time to talk about your dad in honor of his first Father’s Day.

From the second that you were born, you wouldn’t believe how much your dad has been involved in everything.  He’s kind of a big kid, but he takes being your father very seriously.  I have never seen him take anything as seriously to be honest.  I’ve spent the last 5 months in shock at how crazy your father is.  He asks the funniest questions and I spend most of my time trying to calm him down with a smirk on my face.  Even though he takes being your daddy very seriously, it doesn’t mean that he’s serious.  He loves you so much and it’s my prayer that you end up being just like him.   
If I could pick my top 5 favorite qualities that I would hope you get from your dad here they are:
  1.  Cry.  I joke all the time about how much your dad cries.  It’s hilarious to me especially considering how much I don’t cry, but never mistake his tears for weakness.  His tears are the outward symbol of how deeply he loves.  He physically cries because he loves so much and whenever anyone he cares about feels pain, so does he.  A weak man who is so affected by others, would limit how many people he loves as to protect himself from pain.  Your father is strong.   I pray you get his capacity to love.
  2. Work hard.  Whatever he does, he does it with his whole heart.  I fell in love with him at Frontier Ranch because of his work ethic.  He is the first to volunteer and the last to complain.  Whether he is shoveling horse poop or answering an email on Sunday he wants to do his best.   I can’t stress how important a good work ethic is in a man. 
  3. Love Jesus.  It amazes me how much biblical knowledge your dad has, but true faith is more than having the knowledge, it’s living life with a personal relationship with Jesus.    
  4. Giggle. I mean it. Giggle like a little school girl when you think something is funny and don’t waste a second thinking about how it makes you look. Life is hard and without the ability to laugh and find joy it can be even harder. I can honestly say that ever since I met your dad in the summer of 2001, that he has made me laugh every single day. He’s Peter Pan and refuses to take anything too seriously, and I hope you never do either.
  5. Dance.  I can’t tell you how much I love dancing with your dad.  When he spins me across the dance floor it is impossible to keep the smile off my face.  He is confident, he leads, and is a great country dancer.  That being said, it took me a while to embrace any other dancing with him, though.  Here’s the thing, he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him so his dance moves never evolved past a 5 year old running in place and twisting awkwardly to the movement.   His favorite move is writing his name with his butt.  Please don’t get caught up in being the “cool guy” on the dance floor.  I learned to just embrace it.
Here’s a quick little snippet of your dad.  The good, the bad, the silly. 
He loved feeding you in the hospital.  He didn't realize that was an option and thus began his slow but sure fight to edge me out as your food source. 


Tears for bringing you home.  He drove backroads all the way home because he didn't want to get on the interstate.  It took us nearly 45 minutes to get home when it should have only taken 20 at most.  Again, I knew he was going to be protective, but dang.
We like to call this "character" Til-boppy. 
 We called this the Til-bumbo, but Matt thought Bumbo-Fighter was a way cooler name.  We agreed so this "character" was renamed.


Before you were born he called being in charge of bath time.  He registered for more bath toys than the law should allow.  He loves it, and you tolerate him.  You are the only baby that gets a 15 minute bath because your dad is splashing, singing songs, and wrapping you up in funny towels. 
I can't tell how many times I've walked into your dad's office and found him on the phone on on his computer just like this.  It was cute the first couple of times but I swear he would have you in your pack in play in there if I didn't put my foot down.

Ever since you were about 8 weeks old your dad started walking you to the grocery store.  He loves it.  He walks you to deposit a check, for one can of green beans, for one loaf of bread.  If I barely mention we need something he already has you strapped in the stroller and is half way down the block.
You should have seen how excited he was to put you in the pool the first time.  He asked me about a million times if you were having fun.  What was I supposed to say?  You were four months old, if you aren't crying than you are having fun.  This is my favorite picture because you are trying to decide what you think about the pool and your dad is desperately trying to explain to you how much he wants you to enjoy it.
Your dad is desperate to hear you giggle.  He spends a lot of time trying to get you to laugh.  I mean a lot.  He's resorted to the tickle monster.  At best you smile real big and snort.   
Your dad LOVES the beach.  He will literally play in the waves all day long from sun up to sun down.  He wants to build sand castles.  He wants to find sea shells.  He wants to rent the ridiculous floating bicycles.  He LOVES everything about the beach.  I thought he would die of happiness the first time he dipped your toes in the water and you squealed and stomped and splashed. 
 I keep waiting for you to end up with some type of rash on your face because your father kisses you all of the time.  You love it though and grab his goatee and smile.  He loves you more than you'll ever understand.


So there you go Teddy.  You've literally made us jump for joy. 






Saturday, June 16, 2012

Splish Splash

I was very hesitant to give Teddy his first bath.  We’d been home from the hospital for a couple of days and it was obviously time for him to take the plunge.  His umbilical cord still hadn’t fallen off and I remember how rough Nolan’s first bath was so I was just avoiding it.  My mom finally put her foot down and said that either she was going to do it or I was.  Fine.  I’ll give him a bath.  The plan was for me to do it, mama to supervise, and TJ to take pictures.

I put a space heater in the bathroom, filled the tub, laid out a towel, two washcloths, had extra blankets ready in case he got too cold. I’d watched the video when we were in the hospital on how to give a bath so I was prepared.  I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that his first bath was awesome. 

Well, guess what?  His first bath was pretty traumatizing (at least for me anyway).  I’m ashamed to say that I abandoned my son half way through it. First half went great.  I washed and dried and he was a happy camper, but then it was time to wash his hair.  Woo wee.  He was pissed.  I panicked.  Mom took over and I flashed back to years of getting my hair French braided and the torture of her not so gentle touch.  I couldn’t handle it.  I yelled at TJ to quit taking pictures and take over and I retreated to the living room with my laughing dad.

Since then, bath time has become much less traumatic.  The umbilical cord finally fell off and he was ready for a good soaking bath.  Teddy actually loved it.  He likes the water warmer than he probably should, but hey if he’s not screaming then who cares that the $7 froggy that warns us that the water is too hot says “too hot.”  He takes after me there.  I couldn’t think of anything worse on this planet that cold water.

 We have his and her bathtubs.  I still prefer the traditional blue bath tub, but TJ loves his bath bucket.  (We saw it on the Today Show and but it’s a glorified mop bucket). He's also enjoyed the sinks of both grandmothers and the Nall lakehouse sink. Enjoy some fun bath time pics.

First bath: Off to a good start.
I actually asked the pediatrician if it was normal for his arms to be so long.  He laughed and then looked at me seriously and said, "actually they are pretty long."  Seriously, he can do a toe touch standing up...

This was the beginning of my panic.  I'm trying to balance him on that little hammock and then he started crying.
Whew...he was mad.

He looks calm here, but he was probably just taking a breath before screaming.

TJ's hippie bath bucket...aka the Tummy Tub

Some sink fun. 

And my favorite.  A video of TJ.  This is what the Hurt house look/sounds like every night around 7:00 o'clock.