Cluck, Cluck

Dear Sarah,
Halloween is in a few days and I would be lying if I told you it took me months to nail down a costume.

I am NOT lying when I tell you that I have had your Halloween costume for roughly 7 years.

So here is what happened...

I worked at Old Navy for few years right out of high school and the first year I started I was the one that unpacked the costumes for da babies.

There was one that stood out, on a scale of 1 to 10 on a cuteness scale it was an 11.

It was a chicken costume.

I watched as moms walked out of the store with their babies and chicken costumes, pulling my uterus heart strings at the thought of the chubby faced cherub as the chicken.

It took all the strength 18 year old me had to not buy one.

But that would be weird wouldn't it?

I watched as the costume supply dwindled, went on clearance and then became non-existent. I was a little relieved when the last chicken sold, the temptation was gone and I could get on with my life.

Then 365 days after first laying eyes on the chicken, there it was, staring me down with its cuteness.

This is where things get a little weird, what am I talking about they already are, let's just fall further down the rabbit hole.

I didn't just want to be THAT girl that started a baby keepsake box of baby whatnots because I was just dating your dad and not to mention I was only 18.

I got home that night and snuggled the build a bear your dad had made me and then it happened.

"This is about the size of a newborn baby" I said to myself and from there I actually justified that I needed that chicken costume for my bear because what bear doesn't need a chicken costume meant for a newborn baby?

Then things spiraled out of control further.

I went in to work and purchased a costume.

I know what you are thinking, its not a newborn size.

I know this, they didn't have it so I bought the smallest size they had which was 3-6 month and STILL told myself and others that it was for this bear...

Denial.

I will admit the level of excitement I felt when I realized that after years of saying "Maybe when I have baby they will be the right age to wear this for Halloween", and it actually happening was probably higher than it should have been.

A lot higher.

Anyway, that is how your first ever Halloween costume came to be.

aka, your mother is crazy.

Love,
Mom

4 months

Dear Honey Bun,
You are 4 months old, and I will get to the stats in a minute, but first I want to get all mommy and sappy for a second.

While holding you last night (right before you completely doused me in half digested formula), and you will cooing and twiddling your little hands I was hit with such a tidal wave of love (and spit up).

Sometimes, and I don't know why, I don't feel as deep of a connection with you as I would like, I feel like I am going through the motions. But then in a moment, like the one last night, I just look at you and it's there. I am yours and you are mine. It is still mind blowing to me that you were made within me and here you are, you are the late night wishes, the prayers and even the tears of the two years it took to get to this point.

would I do it all again? In a heart beat.

Ok, enough of sappy stuff, trust me I could go on for hours.

 You weigh in at 11lbs and 9oz.

I keep under estimating how much you weigh, I said just under 11lbs.

You have grown 2 inches in length and 2 cm in the noggin department.

We have purchased your next season and size up clothes, that was a fun day that you slept entirely through. I know that will change in about 12 years.

Your 3 month clothing is a little big but that's ok, the doc even said your "growing curve" is right on the money but you aren't on "normal" chart yet.

You are a sleeping champ, even taking naps now, HIGH FIVE! We are very thankful that you sleep at daycare and that has helped tremendously. Also, we are slowly transitioning you in to your crib full time, you got sick when we started so we ended up bringing you back in to our room. Hopefu

lly with in the next couple weeks you can be in your crib full time.

We are super excited that we got the go ahead to start you on cereal! This weekend you will find us looking at a highchair and stocking up on bibs, so many bibs.

The drooling, my love is out of control! We, your father, myself and even your doc think that before too long you will be cutting teeth. Stop growing so quickly!

Your favorite person this month is your Grammy, I am just chopped liver. No matter what is happening or where we are she can get you to smile...not that it hurts my feelings at all. She did muster the first REAL giggle out of you and my heart just about exploded from pure cuteness.

You still hate tummy time, despite all my efforts. We are kind of at a loss as to what to do to get you to not go nuclear when ever we lay you down.  I mean will you ever learn to crawl? You usually only roll over if you are screaming like a banshee (aka really upset).

You amaze me everyday with the new things you do. Love you.
Mommy

Mom Guilt

Dear Sarah,
You got me sick. Ok we will call it 50/50 because you were sick first and then I kissed all over your sweet rosy cheeks and gave you lip smackers to make you giggle through the crumminess. I voluntarily put myself in the line of fire and got shot... with snot.

Anyway, as I sit here surrounded by tissues, huffing Afrin like an addict I think of you and how this is the second time in your short life that you are sick.

You have been here since June 3rd and you came out jaundice which meant billi blanket time, then late August you had a viral bit of everything, but just a touch, nothing full blown. Now here we are late September and we are back to sucking out your nose using the torture device known as the ball syringe. Having to hold your head still as you scream and try so hard to turn your head away, kills me.

This leads me to the common feeling every mom feels...mom guilt.

Its a bitch (don't repeat that).

I feel a pang of guilt with every sniffle that I didn't do enough to initiate  breast feeding. We all know what they say, breast feeding is the END ALL BE ALL for your little life to be a happy, healthy one and never in my wildest dreams did I think that I wasn't going to be able to. I joked around with your equally ample chested Aunt Julie that I have been lugging these mammoths around since I was nine and would be PISSED (again don't repeat that) if they didn't work.

Well, it just didn't work out.

You were so tiny and needed to eat to maintain your weight and help fight the jaundice and my milk was taking its sweet time coming in. No matter how many times I tried to nurse you, no matter how many times I got up in the night to pump, no matter how much skin to skin time with you I had, none of it mattered.

I cried, a lot when I knew it wasn't going to happen. I already felt like a HORRIBLE mother.

I came to terms a while ago and, thankfully the guilt on the breast feeding matter has subsided for the most part.

But then today I was flipping through some blogs and one really made me feel the mom guilt.

They, the proverbial they, all say that you do everything with with your first and the "everything" dwindles with each child.

Well.... crap

Let's see you didn't get maternity pics, you didn't get new born shots, you didn't get a finished nursery, you didn't get birth announcements. You got iphone shots and bare walls, everything with you was rushed and done with the mind set "What is the quickest and easiest way". I hate this. You are the first born, and we should be savoring this time as a family of 3, not rushing through it looking for a short cut.

I mean I am trying to not be to hard on myself because who's fault was it that you were 5 weeks early?

But seriously, don't take it personally if your little brother or sister gets all this stuff.

We just knew to do it early.

Here is to my new motto "treat every moment as a chance to make a memory"

Love you more than "they" know,
Mom

When it happens

Dear Sarah,
When you are older we will have the "Talk" but for right now let me tell you this:

When you are, and how do I put this without being crass, surfing the crimson wave (note to self, watch Clueless with Sarah when she is old enough to love it) and on a hormonal war path, your taste buds are also raging a war of their own. A battle between your insatiable need to have something salty and sweet.

This will be one of your hardest lessons in self control and food combinations.

Love,
 your currently eating candy pumpkins and Doritos shame filled Mom

Not going to be the last time I talk about poop

Dear Sarah,
Last night your father wasn't having a good night but the cherry on top was when he stepped in poop.

Your poop.

I know! Complete shocker right?!

We still have no idea how he accomplished such a task, we have determined through theory alone that while changing you before bed the turd fell out of the diaper, his explanation.

My explanation involves your Dad flinging the diaper around in some type of celebratory manner. This was quickly shot down.

Still mind boggling, but you decided which to believe.

It was sticky, and not easily wiped off.

I made him wash his foot before getting in to bed, I am not ashamed of this. I change your diaper and know that stench can not be quelled by wipe alone.

You laughed at me laughing at him.

Happy to make you giggle.

Love,
Mom

Dear Sarah

Ok so I have this problem, I always talk about you, or want to always talk about you.

Obsessive I know, but that is just what happens when you have a kid.

In my head I just said "that's as cute as you" but I refrained.... Be cool mom, be cool.

Be cool? Yeah right, I have carved a place out specifically for the subject of you on the world wide web...

Anyway, I thought it would be nice if I wrote you letters, just little tid bits here and there to tell you what what life was like in your early days, when I wiped your butt.

I know you may stumble upon this little blog someday in horror that I would share such intimate details of your life. That's why I am starting now, you are too young to protest. HIGH MOM FIVE!

I hope someday you can look back at these letters, maybe when you have your own little one, and see the humor and unrelenting love I have for you.

Someday.

Love,
Mom