Acne and outfits

Now that Sawyer is in his teens – he is 19 days today – he is struggling with all the standard traumas of adolescence. The biggest decision he has to make every morning is 'What to Wear.' He has drawers full of insanely cute clothes sized 0-3 months, all of which are still too big. Fortunately, the baggy look is in. He thinks he looks pretty 'dope' with his trousers hanging three inches below his diaper line. Frankly, I am concerned he is going to suddenly outgrow everything before he even grows into it. We have so many clothes for him (mostly hand-me-downs from Dawn's three boys), that if Sawyer wore a different onesie every day for the next three months, I still don't think he would have worn everything in his dresser.
The other plague of the teens is acne... in this case, baby acne. Caused by sweat glands opening and mom's hormones, most babies breakout right around the time you want to take them to meet the work colleagues or head to the studio for portraits. Sadly, Noxema is not approved for use by children under 6 months of age, so the only weapon we have to battle these pimples is plain water and a washcloth. It takes all my willpower to not try to pick at his little whiteheads. Happily, the situation should clear up soon. (The 20-somethings and 30-somethings are just around the corner.)
Sawyer also has a underage drinking problem. Like most teen drinkers, he doesn't seem to know when to say when. Following a night of heavy drinking, he swaggers around milk-drunk and pukes. At least he manages to keep a smile on his face in the process. We'll be keeping an close eye on that tendency.
Speaking of smiles, my whole goal in life is to make Sawyer smile back at me. It's about time I get some reward for all this hard work. According to my baby instruction manual (aka: What to Expect in the First Year), lucky parents get a smile in return from their baby by the end of the first month. So I spend most of Sawyer's waking moments ten inches from his face saying "hi" in a tiny little voice with a big smile on my face. Don't let the photo fool you. So far, I have achieved nothing. All I get is the involuntary smile he makes while passing gas ... typical teenage boy.

Explosion!!!

The first week at home without a parent to help:
A bomb has gone off in my living room. Whatever semblance of control or organization I had maintained over the past two weeks has been lost. Sawyer has sworn off sleep today, which is good news for tonight but bad for the to-do list. Justin leaves on Saturday. To celebrate his pending birthday, I made cupcakes at 10 p.m. last night (after attempting to attend a book club meeting with the baby) and took them to the sitters so he could party with his friends. This morning, cupcake pans fill the sink. Icing-coated spatulas are stuck to the countertops. The dishwasher needs to be emptied. Clothing and bags from the beach trip cover the floor, making walking difficult. Sand has infiltrated every crevice of our lives. Dirty laundry needs to be washed before sending him home, but last week's clean laundry needs to be folded first. Another cake needs to be baked tonight for the pool party tomorrow. The poor neglected dogs are almost out of food and bugs are floating in their water bowl. And all I can do is sit here and feed Sawyer (typing one handed), who is staring back at me bright-eyed. How can a mother ignore that? Gotta go coo at the baby. The to-do list will just have to wait.

Sawyer meets Surf, Sun, Sand

If somebody had told me a year ago that I would soon have human crap caked under my fingernails and not care about it, I would never have believed them. I probably would have gagged at the mere thought of it. Yet, there I was at the beach last weekend, two-week-old baby half-naked in my lap, poop splattered up his back, in his shorts, on the changing pad and, yes, under my fingernails and I never flinched.
For me, becoming a mom has been a pretty seamless transaction. It feels surprisingly natural. I have a fair bit of baby experience under my belt, but I was never one of those women who fantasized about having my own baby or enjoyed buying baby clothes for my friends' children. I always assumed I would have children someday, but that mental image never included a newborn.
Things have been going so well, however, I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I did have a moment of panic our first day at the beach. Sawyer was laying on the mat under the umbrella in nothing but his diapers, and I was watching his little chest rise and fall as he panted slightly through an open mouth. It hit me for the first time just how fragile this little life is, and the feeling of responsibility welled up in my throat, overwhelming me. Sand stuck to his skin and his face. I wanted to brush it off but Scott wouldn't let me. I kept shifting bags around, trying to find the perfect balance between cooling breeze and sandstorm protection. I alternately checked his temperature, shifted wind-blockades and stared at him for five straight hours.
The next day, I had my act more together. Going to the beach is all about sand management. My new tactic was to keep the sand off him entirely, which I achieved with some success by converting his car seat into a beach lounger.
I also finally got into dressing him in all the fun baby surfer gear we have been given. He's plumping up nicely and the 0-3 month clothes are finally beginning to fit (see photos).
There was some question as to whether we would be able to make our annual camping trip to the beach at all this year. If Sawyer had been late, it couldn't have happened. As luck had it (and following several en utero mother-son discussions), he came early and we were able to squeeze the trip in prior to Justin's departure. Most of my friends said I was crazy for taking a two-week-old on vacation, and we got a startled look from strangers who stopped to ooh and ahh at the babe when they asked his age.
We said having a baby wouldn't slow us down. It has, however, made us rethink camping in a four-season, three-person mountaineering tent.
This year, we "camped" in the relative luxury of the beach side Comfort Inn.
Sawyer was a trooper. He slept well, never cried at night and – thanks to Sarah Quainton's gift of the "Hush Baby" CD – hardly cried on the 5-hour car ride.
Again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
To explain the Hush Baby CD: I received this gift in the mail several days before departing on this trip and slipped it into the diaper bag. When we reached the Outer Banks, Scott and Justin ran into Wal-Mart to buy a window shade (the one we had registered for turned out to be worthless). I sat in the back of the car with Sawyer and he started fussing. Remembering the CD, I cracked the packaging and popped it in. Expecting ocean sounds or chirping frogs, I was surprised to hear a static-like vacuum cleaner white noise that is supposed to mimic the sound of the womb. Slightly grating, but it worked like magic. He stopped crying almost immediately.
The boys returned from the store minutes later and both winced when they opened the doors. "What's THAT?" they screeched. Scott turned the CD off immediately.
Our next stop an hour later was at the grocery store. This time I went in and left the boys in the car. When I returned ten minutes later, Scott was now in the back seat with the baby, both boys were staring into the car seat anxiously, and the Hush Baby CD was blasting over the speakers. The baby was staring at the ceiling, almost hypnotized. I just giggled. Scott didn't even look at me.
For the rest of our trip, if Sawyer made so much as a whimper, the boys grabbed the Hush Baby CD and stuck it in. It worked every time.
Thanks auntie Sarah!!! Our trip would never have been the same without your magic gift.
All-in-all the vacation was a success. Justin had a blast playing in the waves. Scott got some surfing in. Even Sawyer got his feet wet in the ocean.

Feelin' Sheepish

Sawyer only woke up once last night! He slept from 10 to 2 and then until 6 am. This, in "baby world," is a small miracle for a two-week old. We haven't figured out what the magic is (this has only happened once before). I think maybe its the sheep.... a stuffed animal given to us in duplicate at a baby shower (thanks Audrey and Gloria). The sheep looks like any other cuddly doll on the outside, but his secret is that he plays four distinct white noises: heartbeat, rain, ocean and whale. Since I got two of the exact same thing at my shower, one would figure it comes highly recommended. Yet, until last night, the wooly creature had maintained a purely decorative role in the corner of Sawyer's bassinet. Last night - following a desperate night of almost no sleep, I ventured to turn him on to the "heartbeat sound" while putting Sawyer down. My little guy slept for four hours straight. Only time will tell if the sheep holds the power or if we did something else unintentionally right - like keeping him awake for hours on end during the day or carting him around the carnival grounds in 95 degree weather in the baby bjorn. Whatever happened, and I intend to figure it out, I hope getting Sawyer to eventually sleep through the night turns out to be as simple as turning on a stuffed animal.

Big Foot

Long legs and big feet characterize this little one. I've decided he was a racehorse in a past lifetime. His legs never stop moving. They gallop. He makes little whinnies and neighs in his sleep. He busts out of every swaddle with a swift kick of the foot. To think he was moving like this inside of me less than two weeks ago ... it suddenly all makes sense. As to whether their personality en utero matches their personality in the world, I would say most definitly yes.