Mama Bear has something to say.

I try and stick with things that are going to keep me out of trouble when I write.  But sometimes I just can't help myself.  Self control isn't my strong suit.  If you don't like controversial matters, hit the back button now.  :)

I've been involved with a few different conversations over the last weeks that continue to strike me as odd.  I guess they are being presented to me in lesser obvious ways to serve as a learning experience for when I begin teaching my child the rights and wrongs of the world.

First and foremost… the right way to raise a child is YOUR way.  No one else's will do.  Take what you've learned from others and make it your own.  If someone looks upon you and disagrees, I would expect nothing from them.  They are entitled to their own opinion… but I usually don't feel the need to know other people's view.  I do not want to see a disapproving look or a disgusted comment from them.  With that being said, why would one feel the need to point out how they think you SHOULD be doing things?  Are people really this brave and interested in confrontation?  I already know the answer to that.  So I'll say this to anyone who reads it… it is inadvisable to confront me in regards to how I choose to raise my son.  You will not like the outcome.  Mama bear gets growly.  I promise to be a good citizen and do everything that is humanly possible to make sure he doesn't grow up to be an axe murderer or a drug dealer.
Small children have a tendency to say things that may or may not be entirely politically correct.  The whole PC topic is one for another day.  It's been taken a little too far, I think.  I'm of the opinion that if you don't like what I say… don't listen.  Teaching a young child the differences in right and wrong is nothing short of difficult.  Training them the appropriate way to talk is going to be tricky, I have no doubt.  Telling my 3 month old that it's rude to yell at me in public when he's hungry… yeah he doesn't listen.  It takes a persistent and loving parent to help them figure this crazy world out.  And again, I promise to do my best and teach, train, and tell him what is appropriate and what is not so as not to sound like a total lunatic when he speaks.  But as he's learning while he's young, he may offend a few along the way.  He's a child.  Give him a break.  And I'm his parent, doing the best I can… give me a break too.  We are not intending to offend you… most likely.
I won't dig too deep on the breast-feeding in public topic either.  If you're comfortable, do it.  If your not, don't.  If you are offended by a breast in public, don't look.  If you're not, appreciate the natural act of providing for the infant.
I sometimes see parents give their child unnecessary items or money with the intent to make their life better than what they were raised with.  Spending outrageous amounts of money that they don't have to spend.  Or giving things that are privileges not rights for the child to have.  It's a topic I definitely have an opinion about but I don't preach to other parents that I disagree with the way they do things.  I believe that the only person they will learn a work ethic from is us as parents and if I am not willing to teach them the meaning of the dollar or the meaning of earning one, they will forever be of the opinion that everything is owed to them.  If you are a parent who believes in giving little Suzie everything her heart desires and all she has to say is "Mama, I want…" and that works and she ends up growing into a wonderful productive member of society, I will commend you for your efforts.  Until then, I'll raise my son slightly differently.
Kannon is also not allowed to date until he's well into his twenties.  I know I know, I'm just kidding.  I'm not that out of touch with reality.  I know that is a little too over protective.  My mother used to tell me, "you can do whatever you want when you are 18."  I took her incredibly seriously.  On my 18th birthday in April during my senior year of high school, I skipped school with a forged note from my parents and went to a tattoo parlor and inked my body for the first time.  When my mother found out… "I meant you could do whatever you want when you are 30."
What's my point?  Do I even have one?  Who the hell knows?  This may be the most random thing I've ever written without a point or a good flow even.  A friend recently asked "Isn't that what a blog is supposed to be, random writings?"  Again… who the hell knows?  Don't judge kiddos while their parents are trying their best to teach them.  And if you're that percentage of parents who want to give little Suzie everything her little spoiled heart desires… shame on you… and that is MY opinion, might wanna hit that back button, forget you ever read what I wrote.

I wish I had a better point… maybe I just wanted to vent.  I've given no advice, I've really done nothing.  Until next time friends...

Baby Kannon's entrance

I've always known that I'm a little on the crazy side.  I'm not that out of touch with reality that I'm not able to recognize it.  Others (friends and family alike) have reaffirmed.  But never have I felt more like a lunatic that I have during this last year.  I touched briefly on my struggles in my last post, but I was also due to have a baby and so very ready to be done carrying my little one in my womb.  It was hard for me, painful and so very tiring.  Everyone warns you about these things, but none of them really make sense to you until you've done it.

For fear of forgetting details… here is my birth story.

When I had my son, I was 40 weeks and 5 days.  Overdue, but not by much others will say.  I say… OVERDUE.  I had gained approximately 45 pounds to my very lean and slender frame.  Because of my height, according to others who saw me say I carried it well and looked as if I was smuggling a basketball.  Not many believed I had gained the amount that I did.  When I looked in the mirror, I saw a giant woman with a chubby face, fat ankles, and crazy hair.  A lot of things change during pregnancy.  My shoe obsession, and the need to complete my outfit with a cute pair of shoes came to a screeching halt since I couldn't squeeze my feet into most of my shoes since they were so swollen.  I refused to buy many maternity outfits because I knew it was a waste of money.  I lived in leggings and long tank tops, and scoured my closet daily looking for that shirt I bought 10 years ago that I didn't wear much because it was too baggy.  Everything makes you tired.  You hair and nails get all crazy.  Not to mention all the new feelings you're having in your belly.  There's pain, tightness, swelling, and then you start feeling the little one move around.  It's not that people didn't warn me about all of the things that you'll go through during this special time.  I've just always been more of a hands-on type… I had to experience it to fully understand.  Enough about the pregnancy… here's how it went down.

At my 38 week appointment they ask me, "would you like us to check your cervix?"  I was confused, I thought this was something that my OB decided when to check me.  We all decided together to see where I was at since I'd had plenty of contractions.   My blood pressure had already been running high, but not at an alarming level for a couple of weeks prior.  Still borderline… but manageable.  I was 4 cm dilated.  I was pretty happy.  That seemed like a good starting place.  My OB was pleasantly surprised as well, telling me that considering this was my first pregnancy, to already be that far along in the process was a good sign.  I continued to go for my weekly checks and at the last one, I was 1 day overdue and doing fine.  Still dilated the same amount, they told me to stay close to the hospital that they believed I wouldn't go much beyond my due date.

On Saturday, May 27th at 1030 in the evening, I was lying on my moms couch unable to drift off to sleep yet.  Mom and Brad has already retired for the evening.  When I rolled to change position, I felt something odd.  I knew I wasn't peeing.  For heaven's sake I wasn't even laughing or anything.  It was not a huge gush that made it terribly obvious, but after I evaluated a bit… I realized that my water had broken.  I sat in my room at the other end of my mom's house, called the triage nurse.  She told me what I knew she would.  She wanted me to come in to be checked, regardless of whether I was in active labor or not.  The reason being my blood pressure and the fact that I was already 4 cm dilated.  I changed my clothes, contacted Kannon's dad who was in Reno, Nevada at the time and told him to head home, woke my mom up and we headed into the hospital.  We arrived about an hour after my water had broken.  1130pm on Saturday night… that night had proven to be a slow one at GSRMC emergency room.  After turning down their silly offer of a wheelchair (couldn't they see that I wasn't bleeding from the skull or dying) they led me upstairs via the "special elevator" and when they showed me into a labor room, there were 2 nurses waiting in there for me.  They gave me my "outfit" to change into.  Gave instructions and when I came out from my dressing room… they laid me down on the bed and began the process.  They asked me 167 questions that all had answers in my chart that they could see…I'm positive… because I know how those charts work.  I used to work in the software department teaching folks how to use it.  I'm very familiar with where my family history is located.  And considering my parents haven't changed since my OB history and physical… everything should be the same!  They began checking my blood pressure… which was again too high and that was what required me to stay and be admitted.  I had yet to dilate further and my labor progression hadn't really started.  So I had to just be there… and wait.  Attempting to sleep was difficult considering my blood pressure cuff tried cutting off my arm every 5 minutes.  5…. seriously.  Bart was on the road and staying in contact with my mom, who was taking cat naps on the couch in my room.  I offered for her to go home, I did not make her stay… she refused to leave me.  Queue the Awwwws.  Fast forward a few uneventful hours to 430am when I woke up with some abdominal cramping.  I was starting to feel my contractions.  They continued to come every 15 minutes for a couple of hours.  By the time Bart arrived around 630am on Sunday, I was having intense, very painful contractions every 90 seconds.  They checked me again around 7am, I had dilated to 7cm.  They brought in an anesthesiologist to consult with me and ultimately I decided to have one.  After that was done, I felt immediate relief.  I felt a rush of exhaustion and was able to close my eyes.  I proceeded to sleep for the next 3 or 4 hours.  Sometime mid day (times are fuzzy to me) they woke me up, checked me and I was fully dilated and ready to deliver my son whenever I was actually READY and feeling an urge to push.  A wave of disbelief came over me… I couldn't hardly believe I was about to meet my baby.  When it was time for me to push, my mom and Bart stayed in the room.  Everyone else vacated to wait in the hall.  My nurse and my midwife coached me while Bart and  my mom encouraged me.  I felt as if I was doing nothing. I pushed so hard I questioned whether I'd pass out.  There was a significant amount of pain.  They had to turn my epidural down so that I could focus my pushing… with too much med, it was difficult to feel ANYTHING… Unable to really deal with the pain well, I was nauseated.  After pushing for about an hour, in the end my midwife got a bit more urgent with me.  She instructed me to get him out soon, as they were unable to monitor him because he was behind my pelvic bone and they could not pick up his heartbeat anymore.  Just about the time that I felt as if I could do no more, I needed to throw up.  My mom says it was a blessing in disguise.  The push my muscles did from throwing up is what helped me push Kannon out completely.  I had no idea at the time.  I refused to reach down and touch him as he crowned.  I refused to take the mirror that they continued to offer.  If I really need to know what all that looked like, I'm sure I could ask my mom or Bart as they likely saw the whole show.

Kannon was born at 220pm on Sunday May 28th.  He had very few issues besides poor color.  It took him a bit to perk up and warm up to his healthy color.  We spent 2 days in the hospital given it was a holiday weekend and he's been the little pineapple of my eye every since.  We've spent a significant amount of time at home with ourselves as his dad was out of town working.  We've camped, vacationed, attended weddings, been in some VERY hot weather, went on boat rides, taken walks, road tripped, you name it and I've tried to expose him to it.  He can fall asleep anywhere… he can also stay awake and fight sleep in spite of his mama.  I think he thinks it's funny to stay awake and become fussy because he's so tired.  He eats like a champ… often… but has gained good healthy weight and weighs a whopping 12 lbs at 2 months old.  He was born at 6 lb 13 oz.  When we left the hospital he had only lost a a few ounces and at 2 days old he had already begun his climb upwards.  He's got cute baby rolls on his arms and legs now and makes the funniest faces.  Just this morning he managed to actually get his thumb into his mouth and sucked on it.  Some days he likes a pacifier and other days he has nothing to do with it.

Those are the important parts, I didn't want to forget the time line.