Second Coming of Regina George

I have been a mean girl lately. I hate when I am mean. I know it may seem impossible because I have a calm, composed demeanor but every now and again I have been known to have a very sharp tongue. Especially with my family and adding tequila makes it much worse. I think it is because I am uninhibited by the repercussions. They have to love me no matter what I say. With them I tend to say whatever comes to mind without processing it through my mental filter and without concern for their feelings.

I want to officially apologize. I don't mean to hurt and I have to attribute most of my harshness to jealousy. I am jealous that my Mom and Rebecca are living my life with my son. Jealous that they are clocking more time with him than I am. That they get to experience him during his happiest times and I arrive home to end of the day crankiness and midnight feedings. That they are present to witness his firsts while I am working. I know its kind of a cop out but I have to throw hormones in the mix as well. I have been very even keel throughout my pregnancy, his birth, and first two months. Pat myself on the back. However, all of a sudden, I am finding myself very emotional. Leaving him makes me feel like this blind legless armless wonder that wanders aimlessly though my day. Its definitely something to be emotional about. I cried three times in church this Sunday while totally unaware of the cause. Church is not suppose to make people cry.

My jealousy rears its ugly butt with aggressive comments that focus on Rebecca and Moms insecurities as caregivers. Comments that imply that I would always do a better job or how they are not doing something right. I am irritable. Quick to judge and put people down. I want things done my way all the time (which is not always the right way). I call to check in and give a laundry list of things that they should be doing. I get frustrated easily and as soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret saying them. Please, ignore me. Both of you.

I am trying to be better about it. I LOVE that I have people I trust watching him. I am overwhelmed by the AMAZING job they are doing. He is thriving, safe, and loved all day. That is the most important thing to me. That is what I have to focus on instead of my selfish jealousy. I adore that he goes on walks every day. I just wish that I was home to participate. Wish I was home to love, adore, and catch his every waking smile. You both are doing fabulously amazing jobs and Wyatt is the better for it. I can't even begin to tell you how eternally grateful I am that he is home with two of his most adoring fans. But I can try by not being such a bitch!!

Hunger like a Boob

I think it's a record how many times I have posted with boob in the title. It's a sick fascination with me. Now that I am allowed, more like tolerated, to talk about my boobs every other sentence is filled with breast references. Working boobs have nothing to do with sex boobs and they seriously have a life of there own. They are no longer part of my body. When you walk into our house be prepared to be greeted by 2 grandparents, 2 sisters, a new mom, a baby, and Bessie and Clara Bell the resident directors of milk services.

But I digress. True to all the pregnancy rumors, my life became defined by food. I loved that I was permitted by society to eat at all times. The people at Carvel knew me by name when I was 5 months. I was expecting to have a ton of pickle and ice cream cravings but that never happened (yes to ice cream, no to pickles). I never had to send family members on expeditions to the store at 3am (well maybe once when Dad had to get me raspberry sherbet, not strawberry, raspberry). In fact, I was never motivated to get out of bed for food. I had more helpings but stayed with three meals a day and a snack before bed.

Pregnancy did nothing to prepare me for breastfeeding hungry. My boobs are hungry ALL THE TIME!!! Pregnant hunger is I want a slice of pizza the size of my head and I want it now, get out of my way. Breast feeding hunger is opening the cabinet and devouring everything inside. It has no rhyme or reason. It is being famished. For anything. All the time. I rarely care what I am eating just as long as it is in my mouth. I clean plates on third helpings. I finish side dishes out of their serving bowls when everyone else is done. Lick the bowl after my nightly heap of ice cream. You wonder why our grocery bill has gone up to $250 a week. No, it is not the exorbitant price of groceries, its Kate the human garbage disposal who can methodically devour every bag of chips or cookies in the house in an hour. Yes, Mom, I am eating you out of house and home. No, its not the cats at 4am rummaging for a granola bar. Yes, Terry, I was the one the finished every single package of girl scout cookies that I had intended to send you. Yes, I am always the culprit.

It's astonishing and annoying. It would be one thing if I felt like eating something specific or had cravings. But no, I am not in the mood to eat anything. I want everything. Thankfully, I am still holding steady at 130lbs. Still have some pregnancy weight to lose but I am not complaining. I think that all the extra calories that I am eating are going straight to Wyatt because he is looking more and more like Spanky from the Little Rascals. (I believe he does have the hat and suspenders too). OK, well, surprise, surprise, I'm famished. Like haven't eaten in three months because the locusts ate our crops, malnourished, 'Please sir can I have some more', kid from Africa famished.

Is there a Dr in the House?

I love our pediatrician. I love that I am able to say that so confidently. It has been a long road to get there. During my pregnancy, finding a doctor was another thing to do on my long list of preparation. Most of my books said that I need to go interview potential pediatricians and gave a laundry list of questions to ask. For example, are there separate waiting rooms for sick babies and well babies? What is your philosophy regarding breast feeding? Will you respect my choices regarding immunizations or antibiotics? Are you board certified? I was tempted to ask them for their resumes and three references.

It was all very intimidating. Rarely am I intimidated. I hardly feel qualified to ask any Dr questions about their practice. Not to mention, the lack of time required to set up appointments for interviews. I did like this one pediatrician that spoke at a class I took on baby's first year but his practice was in Manhasset, way to far for night visits and emergencies. I thought about going with the pediatrician that saw my family but I was reminded of the hastily done stitches, single waiting room, tendency to over medicate, and lack of personal involvement. So, that idea was nixed.

I went on one interview and called another four practices. I wanted to find a Dr that made me feel comfortable enough to ask stupid questions. I am a first time mom, stupid questions are as predictable as the sunrise. I wanted someone who was available to me and didn't make me feel like I was wasting their time. I finally chose one and then they weren't on Terry insurance. Brilliant. So, Terry picked a doctor. Thankfully, I am in love with the practice that Terry chose. The doctors are great, patient, understanding, the kind of people that wear bugs bunny ties, and look the kids in the eyes. They make me feel comfortable and hopefully that will translate to Wyatt despite those pesky shots. Our three month appointment is on Monday. I think he gets a month off from shots but we'll see.

Laughs A Million

He is still working on his laugh but it is getting bigger and more distinguishable by the day. My Dad can always get him laughing. I think it is because he is so funny looking. Anyway, I have decided to post more videos. For all you pervies, yes dad does have his head in a questionable area but no its not what you think. Enjoy this!!

My Mia Girl

After my mom's post, I received this email from my dear friend Mia. I read it, cried a lot (and continue to do so after every reading), and asked her if I could share it to put it in the blog archive. She agreed after some prodding. Mia, I love you to pieces. I am so blessed that I stumbled upon you. My life is all the richer.

Since the moment I met Kate (or Veesta as I like to call her) I knew she was someone special. For someone to put up with me, she had to be! In Mississippi, Kelly and I were just drawn to her for some reason and the three of us made a great team. Beyond a passion and a love for Habitat for Humanity and AmeriCorps and an accidental meeting due to being in the same place at the same time, we were (and remain to be) three very different girls. Coming from Connecticut, Kelly was the sweet and innocent conscience on your shoulder with an open heart and a good head on her shoulders. Coming from Massachusetts, I think I came with a sarcastic attitude and a little bit of typical Masshole aggression, mixed with an I know it all attitude and a 'let's walk on the edge' personality. Kate, from New York City, was the epitome of New York with her dramatic escapades, her 'jump right off the edge and into the ocean, head first, wearing nothing but a bra and underwear' personality, and her constant optimism. Regardless, the three of us made sense and we traveled across South Carolina (and later the Northeast) in order to visit as often as we could. Weekends together were filled with booze, movies, love, cheese fries, church (yes, church!) and pure fun. I remember this teaching fellowship that she was so excited about last year some time around June or so. She called me for all sorts of words of wisdom on teaching and I couldn’t help but let my passion overflow as I shared my thoughts with Kate. Later, when I asked about it, she told me it was “turning out to be pretty sketchy.” So she dropped the program and got a good 9-5 decent job. This didn’t seem like enough of a challenge for Kate but she did it and I respected her decision for whatever reasons.


I remember Kate driving out to see me last summer. I waited until almost midnight for her arrival on a Friday night and she came up my stairs and onto my couch and said “I’m pregnant” and I thought she must be joking. Turns out, she wasn’t, and it really ruined my booze-filled weekend but it made my Kate-filled weekend that much better. We talked a lot about everything: Terry, abortion, baby names, baby schemes, guys, plans, thoughts, ideas, feelings, emotions, love, hate… and I remember thinking, God I hope Kate can do it. It isn't that I doubted her. After all, I think Kate might quite honestly be one of the strongest and most beautiful people that I’ve ever met, but having a baby – well – let’s just say – it’s not a predicament I’d want to be in.


Kate is not the first pregnant person I’ve ever known but I don’t know that I’ve ever met one so dedicated. I couldn’t believe how she gave up so many things in order to raise Bean like the teaching fellowship and coffee. I don’t even think she had caffeine during her pregnancy! How selfless! I went out to see her in January and I couldn’t believe how huge she was and how dedicated she was and how unbelievably happy she was. I’ve always thought of Kate as the type to make the best out of every situation but I didn’t expect her to be quite so wonderful and beautiful and open to all that was going on with her body, her brain, her heart, and her soul. Kate has this intensity about her, in everything she does. She’s caring and thoughtful and the kind of person that anyone is lucky to have as a friend… but as for Bean… I can’t believe how lucky he is to have her for a mother. Many mothers, especially young ones with unplanned pregnancies, have regrets but Kate isn’t one of them. She has not only taken on the role of motherhood but she has embraced it with open arms and I think she’s doing an amazing job. I think Bean (or Wyatt if I must call him by his given name!) is quite possibly one of the luckiest people on earth. I hope eighteen years from now or twenty years from now or fifty years from now, Bean reads things like this and realizes how strong and beautiful and optimistic and truly brilliant his mother was, is and always will be. I don’t know Terry but if Terry is anything like the way that Kate has described him to me, Bean is a very, very lucky boy. As for my dear, sweet Bean: if you have one-half of the character your mother has, one-eighth of the strength your father has, one-fourth of the love your mother has, one-twelfth of the drive of both of your parents, one-fifteenth of the spirit, one-thirtieth of the dedication, the love, the unbelievable devotion; you will be more than blessed. I love you both.

Must be the Money

Working totally sucks. I know that was eloquent but that is the best way that I can describe my dissatisfaction and contempt. I was so upset about going to work on Monday that I mistakenly put on my underwears wrong. As is waist through a leg hole and didn't even notice until my third trip to the bathroom. However, I am pretty proud that I didn't cry all day and that my first phone call home to check in was at 1. Everything was fine, as I knew it would be. Wyatt was playing happily all day with Aunt B and I was frantically pacing at work waiting for 5 o'clock.

Before Wy, I secretly looked down upon housewives and stay at home moms. Having the false assumption that all they did was sit in front of the TV, play with the kids, and eat bon-bons. Where was the motivation to seek aspirations for themselves? Who wouldn't love staying at home all day and having all the free time in the world? Where was the desire to strive to meet personal goals? I unabashedly say I was dead wrong. Being at home these past 11 weeks has tested my patience, pushed me to the edge of my sanity, overwhelmed me to tears of joy, and engaged my spirit. I worked the hardest I have ever in my life. Every single moment of every day and night, I had to bring my A game, my full attention, and my intelligence . I can't even conceive of a 9 to 5 that would required that much of myself.

I expected to be able to get many things accomplished being at home all the time. None of which I did but I totally don't care. I rarely checked my email. This blog became another item on my to-do-list. There were many days where my mom and dad would be coming home from work and I would still be un-showered, in my pajamas, and covered in spit-up simply because I never got around to getting dressed. I never had enough time for anything and I never wanted to go back to work. Maybe if my job was more stimulating or paid me huge amounts of money I would have been excited to return to my desk but neither of these statements are true.

I adored being home with Wyatt. I expected at some point that I would have gotten sick of being cooped up in the house. That I would want some semblance of my old life back. That I would enjoy going to the bathroom by myself but that day never dawned. The sole reason that I went back to work was because I am beyond broke and even that was a slow motivator. Wyatt is so much more important to me then my job or money and I highly doubt it will get any easier to leave him. It is working day number two. Is it too early to start looking for other jobs? Stay at home jobs?

Boobie has a Boo-boo

My boob is broken. I woke up yesterday morning with a very tender and red right boob, with what I suspect to be a clogged milk duct. Surprisingly, its really painful. I even have a fever, which might be attributed to a sinus infection, although highly coincidental that the fever and clog happened on the same day. Every time my arm brushes against me, I wince. I even had to take my bra off. I haven't taken off my bra, besides to shower, since I gave birth. Rightfully so. Imagine carrying around 12 oz of liquid on your chest without support. I hear the chorus of "Do Your Boobs Hang Low" starting already.

Home remedies include nursing like crazy - check. Warm compresses - check. Hot showers - check. Massage - check. And, last but not least, get this, nursing on all fours. As in placing little Wy on pillows and essentially tea bagging my boob into his mouth. Let gravity do the work. I am very hesitant about this one. I'm afraid someone will catch me in the act and think I am a sexual deviant. Or my worst fears will be realized and I will officially be a cow. Not to mention the laughter they will hear in Japan.

I have decided to wait on that last one until I have exhausted all other options. This morning I tried pumping on hands and knees. No dice. I was really having trouble keeping still with blood rushing to my head and balancing with one hand. Can you imagine if I fell on him? God, how traumatizing!! For both of us. I hope the duct unclogs itself real quick. I don't want it to come to doggie style nursing. However, I don't know how much longer I can take this.

A side note: Wyatt loves me so much. He totally knew I wasn't feeling well and slept like a champ. He slept from 9:30-1:45, 2:15-5:00, and 5:30-7:45. Our best night yet!! Even with a fever. Maybe we are turning over a new leaf. I am trying not to get my hopes up.

10 Weeks

To my Beanie,

You have been in my life for a little over two months and in that short time I have long forgotten life without you. You dominate my thoughts and occupy my every waking (well, and sometimes sleeping) moment. I never get tired of watching you explore this world and your joy melts my heart. I adore you in every sense of the word.

You started smiling your big toothless grin around March 12th. You are the image of health and happiness. Smiling at everyone that you see and even some of your toys. You are especially fond of Aunt Lizzy even when she does nothing. When she is in the room you stare at her as if in a trance. You love when Mr. Frog ribbits hello to you and gives you and Mommy kisses on the changing table. It gets you kicking your legs, smiling, and talking every time. When I put your block toy (from Lizzy's friends) in front of you, you furrow your brow in concentration and try to grab for it. You don't have much control over your arms or hands yet but you will soon. You just started to manage getting your hands to your mouth and sometimes will be holding your blanket in your crib at night.

I take you for a walk almost every day. We walk around the block, or visit Aunt Em at work, or on Saturday to visit Grams at the library. You love staring at all the colorful books on the shelves. Most of the time you sleep but when you are awake we stop to say hi to the flowers. Your Gammy is a florist so we are trying to teach you early. Impress the ladies when you get older. We sit on the front porch swing when we get home and watch the cars go by. The big trucks always catch your eye but you hate the noise they make. Especially the motorcycles, which I keep telling you have to get used to.

Your eyelashes have finally grown in. They are incredibly long, blond, and dying for mascara. You are still bald with a little peach fuzz. We are all debating what color it is, blond, strawberry, or dirty blond. You are growing bigger by the day and have the cutest body ever (with knee dimples and all). You arch your back, stick you butt out, raise your arms up, and stretch every time you wake up. I will never get tired of seeing you do that. You are very strong willed already. If you don't want to do something, you won't. In the middle of the night when I change your diaper, you will straighten out your legs so I can't get your pajamas off. I try everything. Lift you up, tickle behind your knees, your feet, it takes me forever. You LOVE being naked and will sometimes start whimpering when I try to get you dressed. You rarely cry without a reason but if you do singing 'Stand By Me' usually calms you down.

I can't wait for more.

I love you everyday.
Your Momma

Mr. Laugh-a-roo

It's official!! Our little man is laughing!! He doesn't quite get it yet but it is definitely a laugh. I had him going on the changing table when I was kissing his feet (literally and figuratively) and called my mom. She didn't believe me, understandable, because I often cry wolf. I told her he was crawling the other day. Anyway, my Dad got him good when he got home from work and I actually managed to catch it on video. It kind of sounds like grunting at first but trust me, its his first laugh. Enjoy!! There will be no stopping him now...

Things Your Mom Didn't Tell You - Part 5

Everyone told me of this immense love that would come pouring out of me when Wyatt was born and I believe that's true. I didn't know I was capable of loving someone so much and what I feel for him is unlike any other love I have experienced. However, they all failed to mention that immense love also comes with its friends: terrified, doubt, over protective, and inadequate.

I don't mean to sound negative because I am totally in love with being a mom but most of the time I am tormented with worry. I have nightmares about SIDS, or that he is going to choke, or I am going to drop him. I am doubtful of my capabilities as a mother. Sometimes I don't feel as though I am doing enough for him. That when I take 5 minutes of his awake time to check my email, or that I will be a working mom, that makes me a bad mother. I want to be there for him all the time, every time, and when I am not I feel like I have failed him. How in the hell am I going to go back to work?! I think what worries me the most are if his emotional and intellectual needs are being met. Seriously, he's a genius but I always feel as though I could be doing more, engaging him more, talking to him more. Although, I have been known to narrate my day. I am not even going to go into the protective momma bear that has reared its ugly head within me overnight. Mess with my kid and I will kung-fu your ass to China. Who knew I could be so aggressive?

Motherhood is difficult. Well, duh. Maybe she did warn me a little about that. I find myself relying on the praise of others recently. That little affirmation from other moms that I am doing a good job because I don't know how to base my own progress. I never have been one to rely on others opinions but lately I relish compliments and kind words. This is uncharted territory for me. But truly, parenthood is really difficult. I guess I always assumed that it would be like some switch and I would become this super mom that knew everything. It doesn't happen like that. Its a learning process just like everything else in life.

A side note: I wrote this post with my laptop on my knees and Wyatt cradled in my lap sleeping. He is having a "Put me down and I'll scream" day. I never thought that I would be able to type with two hands, comfort a baby, and think all at the same time. Maybe I am finally getting the 8% of my brain back, although I doubt it.

Momma's Retrospective

So I asked Kate if I might be a guest blogger and being the kind soul that my daughter is she granted me access.

Thinking back to about a year ago, Kate had arranged for me to join her and a group of Habitat volunteers going on a build in Ireland for two weeks. In hindsight, I can see now that it was a gift for the two of us to gather our strength for the months ahead. We had such an amazing time together, laughing like school girls, whispering in our bunks at night, throwing back the Harps and working side by side to give someone else a leg up in life. I witnessed my daughter's passion for the ideals of Habitat for Humanity and felt truly honored to be part of the team. We spent some of our free time shopping and that was focused on finding a gift for Terry as he was about to deploy for Afghanistan. We had many conversations about war and the cost people were willing to pay and the conversations always ended with her concerns for Terry and that he would hopefully return intact, physically and emotionally. She purchased an Irish Cross while we were out walking in Belfast and afterwards we ended up in a pub meeting up with Dave, our leader, and Paul who was a minister from Canada. Over our Harps we shared our days purchases and Kate showed the cross to Rev. Paul and asked if he might bless it. He said yes indeed but not in a pub and he wanted to put some thought into the blessing, they could set up a time back at the cottages for just the two of them to meet. Well to make a long story short they meet, he blessed, there were tears and I'll be damned if I don't think to this day that he put a fertility blessing on that damn Irish Cross because about a month later my Kate was having Terry's baby!

So that is the beginning of the journey that has led us all here. Looking back over this year I feel amazed at all that has transpired. I have seen the best in people and also the worst, (who am I kidding I have seen the best and worst in myself!). Felt surrounded by love and at times couldn't find my breath. I wish I could say that I knew everything would work out, I wish I could say it now, but real life is messy and doesnt always have fairy tale endings. I have always felt that Kate is an old soul as she can see things much more clearly than myself. She can focus on what is truly important and what is just fluff. I still mourn for the life my daughter had, I get sad that she had to give up building for Habitat when she so loved it. But I have seen a transformation take place in Kate and her passion for her precious little boy takes my my breath away. Sometimes I feel as if I am intruding on a private moment as I see the way they gaze at each other, a bond of such intense love it's visible even to the naked eye.

I have been amazed at how Kate has handled herself with such calm and grace. She knew without a doubt that the journey she chose was the right one, no matter how hard the road was. I guess its fair to say that blessings come in many different packages, sometimes they even come as an unplanned pregnancy! My heart has grown larger to hold all the love I feel for our little bean and I know the world is a better place because he is a part of it. And now without doubt I am reassured that my daughter is indeed an old soul with wisdom and insight and me well I'm just an old fart who has never been prouder of her girl.

Damn Vaccinations

OK, so that stupid vaccine gave Wyatt a fever. His first fever. He has been all hot and bothered since about 4pm yesterday. I have been pumping him full of Tylenol because I can't stand to see him upset. Hopefully, it won't last long. They say this is a normal reaction and that it might get worse with the rest of the series. It makes me so upset when I can't fix his hurt. I hate this.

Vitals - Part 1

Here is the latest update from the Pediatrician:

Birth - 8lbs 5oz, 19 inches
One Month - 11lbs 4oz, 22 inches
Two Months - 13lbs 12oz, 23.5 inches

I always have a ton of questions when I take Wyatt to the doctor and my new Ped is extremely understanding, allowing me to ask the stupidest questions, taking more than an hour of her time, and never rushing me. I knew at the two month check up that he was due for some shots. What I didn't realize was that he needed four. Being the inquisitive human that I am, I made her explain each and every shot to me in detail. Being the good sport that she is, she did. Now, I am all for vaccinations. I want Wyatt to be as healthy as humanly possible but is it really necessary to pump him full of diseases this early in life. I think not. We decided to limit his shots to the ones that are absolutely necessary and save the others for later. So, this go around he got Hib (bacterial meningitis) and DTaP (diphtheria, tetanus, and whooping cough). We passed on Rotavirus (vomiting and diarrhea), which is new and excessive, and Polio. He will get Polio at 6-18 months. I am happy with our vaccine cocktail. Of course, Wyatt took the shots better than I did. He cried for about 10 seconds and I was visibly shaken for a good 3 hours.

Sleeping through the night is a stretch but he is doing much better. Wyatt is now on an every three hour feeding schedule which is heaven compared to how it was and usually when he first lays down he will go for 4, sometimes 4.5 hours. I might actually be a human on a schedule like that. However, he has started this new choking thing. Sometimes he will spit up in his sleep and gag on it for a little bit. He usually doesn't even wake up but I sure do. I am at the side of his crib before you can say 'snicker doodle', propping him up, and patting his back. I shock myself how quick I move. Anyway, last night he was crying and started having a choking fit. It lasted a lot longer then normal and I freaked out (or fruk out, the sleep deprived past tense of freak, which I have been using recently). Both Grandma's were here and they can attest to the color draining from my face and near tears. The Ped said its probably reflux, nothing serious, and not to worry unless he turns blue. Great! That's reassuring. Some things I will never be ready for.

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

Even in the hospital and hooked up to IVs, I was the brunt of jokes. Everyone was joking about Terry coming home so soon after Wyatt's birth and the possibility of Irish twins. Ha, bloody, haha. Even Dr. Diaz made a comment. One of my big concerns during pregnancy was the state of my vagina after birth. The best description of what I envisioned was an exploded firecracker. Not to freak people out who haven't had kids but that is pretty much how it felt.

Now, about 8 weeks post-delivery, I am feeling all put back together. I had a doctor's appointment last Monday and she gave me the OK to start having 'relations'. I didn't know people still used that terminology. Regardless of the phrasing, it is nice to know that everything is back where it should be and that I am still functioning. However, knowing that house is nice and clean doesn't mean I want any visitors just yet. If you know what I am saying.

My body still feels all out of whack. My stomach is all stretched out and my belly button is huge. I still have that dark line down my belly. Sometimes I am reminded of a kangaroo when I look at my shrunken self. I am stuck between being self conscience and being proud. I feel like my pouch is a badge of honor detailing what my body has been through. But yet I am nervous about what others would think of my naked body. Bathing suits terrify me. In terms of sex, I have been through such an amazing but none the less traumatic event. I am having trouble thinking of myself as a sexual being again. Not to mention, if anyone even thinks about touching my boobs they will get milk in their face.

Most women that I know have body image issues. I am no exception. I have always overcompensated for my negative self image with a brazen personality. As if they could balance each other out. That being said I always loved being naked. I would get out of the shower, even at 9 months pregnant, and wander around my room naked for a good hour before getting dressed. Now, I avoid looking at my naked self in the mirror. I get dressed in the bathroom. I just ordered a Pilate's with baby video maybe that will help me gain more confidence. Maybe I need a few more months to get comfortable in this new skin.

Freedom Watch Afghanistan

Wyatt and I spend a lot of time at home. Most often it is spent with the music on dancing around the house but sometimes channel surfing is inevitable. We have just discovered the Pentagon Channel, a news channel dedicated to the war. They have a program called "Freedom Watch Afghanistan" that is produced by the American Forces and focuses on missions, operations, and the troops in Afghanistan. There are a lot of random fluff pieces and not much content but it is filmed at the bases in Afghanistan. Wyatt and I have added it to our daily routine. We watch for Terry, not expecting to see him, but at least they show people in the same uniform.

Terry got home on February 12th. Wyatt and I had just gotten home from the hospital the day before and were getting settled in our new roles. I have to admit I was nervous to see him but the jitters were quickly overshadowed by having a new baby. The last time I saw Terry I was three months pregnant, not showing, and still panicking. I was curious to how our relationship was going to change and how both of us would settle into becoming parents. Change was unavoidable. The first few days were slightly awkward but by the time he was leaving again, I thought at least, that we were doing quite fine.

He had about two and a half weeks at home. It was incredibly endearing watching Wyatt sleep on Terry's chest but bittersweet knowing that their time together was limited. I have a soft spot for babies and new dads. My heart breaks for Terry almost everyday watching Wyatt's personality begin to emerge and knowing that he is missing it. I am getting so much joy experiencing Wyatt learning about his world. This is such an important bonding period in Wyatt's emotional development. I worry that Terry will have to play catch up to make up for the time he spent away. I hope he comes home soon to feel how peaceful the world is when a happy baby is in your arms.

PS. The picture on the left, Terry is actually flying that helicopter. Awesomely cool.