Mom Fail

A friend posted this video on her FB page. (Seriously watch it, because it's so funny.)

It's a Mama cat and her kitten cuddling and sleeping. The kitten gets the sleep shakes and Mama comforts/cuddles her baby back to sleep.

This proves that I totally fail as a mom. When my little ones jump in their sleep, I do one of three things:

1. Point and laugh.
2. Call someone else over to join me in laughing at them.
3. Get the camera so I can laugh at them later.

It turns out common house cats are better mommies than I am.

Humans vs Apes

I went to a Nursing Support Group today (Yes, I realize how lame that sounds, but it's totally necessary and actually fun.) and one new mommy was talking about her colicky baby. Nothing was working for her: nursing, swaddling, the swing...

My heart went out to her as Ben was a super colicky babe. There were nights when all three of us were crying :(

In any case, the lactation consultant suggested "wearing the baby". Put that fussy babe in a sling on your chest and move about your day. Then she said something that got me thinking, "Humans are the only mammals that put their babies away."

I think she was suggesting that lower primates - or even marsupials - have it right constantly carrying their babies. But as I think about it:

1. I don't have a pocket on my belly and
2. Really it's the babies that have super skills, not the mommies.



I don't know about anyone else, but my babies
can't cling to my body hair while I scale a tree.

Susanna is still a helpless little lump and Ben alternates between flailing wildly (No diapy change!) and being dead weight (No nap!). He uses whatever suits his current need.

Susanna being lumpy.

In general, childcare for other mammals seems easier. Bears "deliver" their babies while they're hibernating. Baby bears (weighing less than a pound BTW) basically walk out of their mother's womb and start nursing. Mama bears don't even wake up.

My experience has been, um... different.

1. Although at times I wished I wasn't, I was awake for both deliveries.
2. We'll skip the details, but both times it took an entire team of people to yank my children out of my body.
3. Both Ben and Susanna were confused about nursing. (They are definitely not taking care of business on their own while I sleep). Ben chomped frantically like Pac-Man and Susanna coils and then strikes like a blind snake. Both tactics are as painful as they are counterproductive.

I don't want to feel subpar to an orangutan just because I like to "go to the bathroom by myself" or "need both hands to eat a ham sammich". So, I tried to think of at least one mammal who isn't winning Mom of the Year.

And I found her. In 2005, Brandy had her first and only litter of puppies. She delivered 10 black lab puppies and, in general, was a caring and attentive mom. But she was always anxious to take a break. Whenever we came in the room, she'd get up and leave.

If she was a person, she would have said, "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Do you mind watching the babies, while I run to the bathroom?" A half hour later you'd find her smoking a cigarette on the back porch.

I can safely say, I'm not sneaking smokes out back so take that other mammals - I win!

How To Ruin Your Baby In One Simple Step

We've only had Susanna for two weeks, and only had her at home for a week and a half, but never fear, we've successfully ruined her.

She was born sleeping through anything. I attribute her chill attitude to her abusive gestation. Seriously, Ben played the snare drum at top volume at my belly every single day. I actually had to wake her up to feed her and even then I'd have to poke her awake, change her diaper or even give her a bath to get her up for any length of time.

But that all changed with one innocent move. And here it is:

Chuck ruining Susanna.

Yes, that's Chuck and baby Susanna sleeping and snuggling on the couch. There is almost nothing better than snuggling a newborn baby. So one evening after I fed Susanna and she was still in-and-out of sleep, I said to Chuck, "Do you want to snuggle her while she falls asleep?"

And that was the beginning of the end. That night, I could not get her back in her bassinet for anything. She'd nurse and nod off. Then I'd lay her down and she'd pop up. I'd start all over and she'd pop up again. At one point I'd been up for two hours and was still failing at getting this baby safely back in her own bed.

For those who don't know, pediatricians suggest having babies sleep on their backs on a firm mattress with only a fitted sheet. No inclines, loose blankets, pillows, stuffed animals or any other comforts that babies (and normal people) like.

So at this point, I'm debating options trying to decide which is the least dangerous:

1. Walk, bounce and possibly drop the baby. I am only 5' 2", but that still a long fall for someone only 19 inches long.
2. I could put her in bed with us. (Both my children LOVE our pillow top mattress - you can literally lay them down wide awake and they will go to sleep on our bed. I have seen both of them fall asleep while I went to get a diaper.) But at this point I'm extra sleepy and don't trust myself not to roll on her. Nor do I trust Chuck, whose name I've been hollering for the last half hour only to be answered by snorts. 
3. I could try to put her in the bouncy chair, which she sometimes sleeps in during the day. The tricky part of this is deciding how to strap her in as she likes to wiggle out. Ben used to sleep in this chair and one extra-foggy morning I panicked because he wasn't in his chair - he was on the floor in front of it. 

See, I am a poor decision maker in the middle of the night and an even worse parent. In the end, I went with the chair and luckily come daybreak (approximately half an hour later) Susanna was still safely strapped in.

In the light of day, I have made her bassinet only moderately dangerous. I put a fluffy blanket in the bottom, but put a tight blanket over the top so it's still smooth, just softer. When she starts rolling, we're going to have to switch to the swing.

Only slightly dangerous sleeping accommodations.

On a side note, I told Ben, "Benny, we ruined your sister and we've only had her a week! Are you ruined?"

Sitting in our bed at approximately 6:22 am, with his legs under the covers and his little hands propping his head up on Chuck's pillow, he said, "Yeah!"

He's probably right.

Here are some shots of our bed at 6:30 this morning. Chuck and I were getting ready for the day and these two were snoozing/watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse happily after sneaking in our bed. They are such pills, but I guess we only have ourselves to blame.

They totally kicked us out of our own bed.

Ben looking happy that he's ruined.



Susanna was sitting up talking with us... for about
2.5 minutes. Then she fell asleep in this super
dangerous position. Don't get used to this sweetheart,
this is how babies die and we're not taking chances.



My Arch Nemesis

Get a good look at this face. Memorize his orange stripes, his white whiskers, the blank look in his eyes. This cat is my new nemesis. 

Nemesis. Arch Nemesis.

He's not my nemesis because he's a little bit dumb and mildly irritating:

1. He chases his tail like a lab puppy and then jumps when he catches it.
2. He chews up cardboard boxes leaving tiny cardboard snowflakes littering my floors.
3. He eats food off the table.

Clearly guilty.


He's my nemesis because, today, he licked my baby girl's hair. My greatest fear has come true. That stupid cat, who attacks my hair nightly - the same cat who makes me sleep in a stocking cap like I'm eternally camping - has set his sights on my sweet baby girl.

Susanna sleeping peacefully, back when Gary was still
boarding and her hair was still safe.  

Heed my warning Gary, if you destroy Susanna's hair, I will destroy you.

Learning How To Be A Boy

This seems like something that should be instinctual (tooting/sword fighting/scratching), but apparently it isn't.

I remember reading in Bringing Up Boys by James Dobson that boys identify with a male role model at several developmental stages - the first was as early as 18 months. He said that boys actually have to learn to how be men and that their role model defines masculine behavior for them.

In the last month or two, it seems as though Ben is going through one of these stages. He has really attached himself to Chuck and has kind of become his shadow. If watching Chuck tells Ben what men are supposed to do, then Ben is currently learning that men mow the grass and wash cars.

This spring, Ben has been standing at the window while Chuck mows. He watches him mow the entire yard. I'm talking standing at a window, watching someone walk back and forth, mowing for a solid hour. I would consider this torture, and can't believe this is the same kid who thinks it takes too long to put pants on before going outside to play.

Chuck said I could let Ben outside while he was mowing. (I don't know why I didn't before. Maybe I thought he'd bark and bite at the mower.) Ben was in heaven. He marched proudly right behind Chuck, walking in perfectly straight little lines, going all the way to the fence before turning. Then he got his toy mower and just followed after Dad shouting.


Bean mow! Daddy MOW!

 When we tell him the yard looks nice, he says, "Yeah! Bean mow!"

Chuck is being so sweet and supportive with the birth of our daughter and has taken two weeks off. He's spending a lot of quality time with Ben and trying to get a few little extras done around the house - specifically, giving the cars a thorough cleaning.

Yesterday, he and Ben cleaned his car:

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. The tricky part is knowing when to stop washing. Chuck is very particular about water spots, in fact, you could say that water spots are his arch enemy. So, he towel dries the car after washing it. I watched him feverishly drying the driver's side as Ben "rewashed" the passenger side he'd just dried.

Toddlers need really clear instructions, "Now it's time to dry the car. Here's a towel. You do it." They also need water confiscated.

In any case, it looks like Ben is well on his way to learning the ins-and-outs of being a boy... or at least outdoor chores.

Welcome Susanna June

Although it took us nine months of gestation and 24 hours of looking at her, we finally named our sweet baby girl. Welcome to our family Susanna June!

We scheduled a c-section for May 5th (you're welcome SG - that was just for you) with the doctor who delivered Ben. Dr. Caffrey is a kind surgeon who joked about finding his watch and asked me if I wanted him to "just go ahead and put in a zipper this time."

At 12:04 pm, Dr. Caffrey showed us this:

Our first look at our sweet baby.

Baby Girl Enderle was 6lbs 5oz and had a full head of red hair!? Her hair wasn't the only surprise. I really expected this baby to look like me. Ben looks so much like Chuck, I thought surely this baby would be mine. After all, I just carried her around for nine months, but more than anyone else, she looks like Benny. Sigh.

Newborn Ben

She does have my ears, hands and dimple and we'll see how she changes as she grows. But I still feel a little robbed doing all this work to have have my babies look like Chuck.

I really had pictured our daughter being a dark-haired pixie and secretly thought Norah was going to make the final cut. As a reminder, it was down to two choices:

• Norah Ann (using my middle name)
• Susanna June (named after both my mom and Chuck's mom)

... and a late favorite:

• Pippa Anne (Yes, this was inspired by Kate Middleton's little sister.)

But the red hair threw us for a loop and we ended up choosing Susanna June for the following reasons:

1. Chuck said he simply couldn't imagine calling a little baby Norah. He said it was too grown up. I can see that.
2. Our sweet baby was born on the same day Chuck's grandma, Donna June, passed away two years ago. Donna loved children and we feel it's a sweet tribute to her to name our baby girl after her.
3. Just in case this is my only daughter, I want to honor my mother and my best friend.

Gammy Susan, Susanna, Mama.

So, our baby girl is Susanna June, named after three amazing women who have spent their lives teaching children about Jesus. My prayer for my sweet Susanna is that she will have the same heart for Jesus as her namesakes and spend her life investing in others the way these remarkable women have.

So far, she is a sweet cuddly delightful little baby.

I have lost my mind and like to coordinate hair bows
with hospital gowns... and Chuck puts bows on
like an athlete might wear a sweatband.

I don't think Ben realizes that we are going to keep this baby. When I tried to get him to hold her, he said, "No baby!" I still think he'll be a great big brother.

Ben and baby sister, Susanna.

In any case, I am excited to go home. I miss my Benny Bean and am ready to be home as a family of four.

Our first family pic. Ben says, "Cheeeese!"

Inappropriate Responses

I love hearing Ben's words and finally knowing what's going on in his mind. However, at two, he's still far from mastering the ins and outs of acceptable conversation.

Every night we have a little family worship. By that, I mean we read one or two scripture verses and pray as a family. By pray as a family, I mean Chuck or I pray while Ben either rolls around like a pig in the mud or plays his snare drum. (Although, sometimes he prays and that basically includes listing his grandparents and my mom's dog.)

To keep him engaged, I ask him to find letters that he recognizes in the scriptures and then read the sentence containing the letter. He likes to pick out: B, I, O, and T.

Tonight, he found a B and I read the first line of Psalm 128, "Blessed is every one that feareth the Lord; that walketh in his ways."

Ben said, "Oh-kay, " as if he didn't believe what he was hearing. It was low, sarcastic, and basically the same way I say okay when he insists on doing something that's going to make a huge mess. It's kind of like, "You're going to carry that full watering can from the kitchen, through our living room and out the front door without spilling it? Oh-kay."

I wanted to say, "No, that's really true. People who fear the Lord really are blessed," but it seems a bit early for that lesson. Thankfully, our Heavenly Father loves children and I'm sure he knows Ben's heart and enjoys these funny little "missteps" as much as we do.

And this is not Ben's only conversational misstep. Here are several examples:

1. Someone sneezes. He also sneezes. No amount of me saying, "Benny, when someone sneezes, we say 'Bless you,'" seems to reach him. He continues to mock those suffering from seasonal allergies.

2. Saying "I love you": Often a grandparent will say, "Ben, I love you." And he'll respond, "Yeah!" It sounds like, "Yeah I know, what else is new?"

3. "Yah, I do." You have to say this the way Arnold Schwarzenegger would say it and Ben says it for everything. He and Evie were playing and I asked them, "Are you guys friends?"

In her little singsong voice, Evie said perfectly, "Ben's my friend." 

Ben shouted, "Yah, I do!"

I really feel like raising a child is sort of like domesticating a raccoon. (Maybe it's just Ben.) I'm going to continue to try to teach Ben appropriate responses. In the mean time, please don't hold his words against me.