In Trouble...

Ethan's in trouble because he had a poop party today. Upon waking from his nap with a dirty diaper, he decided to live up to his monkey nickname and make a giant smeary mess all over himself and his crib. We didn't take a picture of that. You're welcome.

We're in trouble because in addition to today's little escapades, Ethan has found a lot of new ways to get into mischief. Most of these involve crawling to and playing with off-limits items, such as Max's food bowl, the fan in his bedroom, and the stairs. Yup, he can climb stairs now. We don't have a picture of that either, mainly due to the fact that we are too busy keeping him from falling down the stairs.

Ethan's in trouble, and to show him that mischief making and poop parties are not cool, we've locked him up. He's doing hard time in baby jail (otherwise known as his room) and only we know how to open his cell door (otherwise known as his baby gate). It even has a clear plastic panel in the middle so that he can see what he's missing on the outside. We'll show you who's boss, baby.




Aww, but with a face like that (well, maybe not that last face...), we can't stay mad at him. Which means when he's old enough to really defy us, we're in trouble.

What a Feeling!

With my first Mother's Day behind me, I have been asked a lot about how I feel as a mom. I've heard it said that while men become fathers once their baby is born, women become mothers the second they find out they are pregnant. While I can see some truth in that, I really had no idea what it meant to be a mom until Ethan was born. Actually, in all honesty, I think it took me a bit longer that that. The first few days, weeks, even months, are such a whirlwind that they seem almost surreal. Every waking moment is spent in anticipation of the next, second guessing decisions, holding your breath, marveling in the beauty of the tiny creature that you created. I went through a mental checklist every time I scooped newborn Ethan into my arms (1: Wrap the baby straight jacket swaddle, 2: Support his head, 3: Bounce, jiggle, rock, repeat). I sanitized EVERYTHING, and made all visitors scrub like surgeons before touching the baby. I changed my body wash and shampoo to neutral scents that wouldn't offend Ethan's delicate sense of smell, and washed my clothes in baby detergent so that his skin wouldn't be irritated when in my arms. I caught glances of myself in the mirror, babe in tow, and almost didn't recognize myself.

Wow, how things have changed.

I was chatting with a friend the other day while Ethan squirmed on my lap. Instead of jumping up and starting the frantic bounce/jiggle/rock dance, I stayed seated and switched Ethan's position about five times without missing a beat in the conversation. It was then that I was hit with the realization that (while extraordinary) being a mom has become ordinary. Routine. Comfortable. Delightful. I really like this mellow mama version of myself much better. Mental checklists are out the window, except when leaving the house (Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check. Cheerios? Check. Keys? Where are my keys?). I let the dog lick Ethan's face, and allow Ethan to "explore" (ie: chew on) Max's toys. I am guilty of blowing dirt off of a dropped piece of food and popping it back into his mouth. I'll scoop up my non-swaddled, sturdy boy ten different ways, sometimes even *gasp* throwing him into the air or flipping him upside down. I can change a diaper in less than 30 seconds flat. I make baby food. I sing lullabies. I stare in wonder as my little man discovers the world around him. I'd rather be home than anywhere else in the world. Okay, that's a lie, I'd rather be on a beautiful sandy beach in an exotic foreign country, but only if my boys are with me. I know that with each new phase I'll learn and feel something different. For now, though, I can say that I've learned what it feels like to be a mom, and it is incredible.