February 2009: love and the art of fishing

Sunday, the first of this month, we returned from our camping and fishing trip at Choke Canyon and settled ourselves back into home life. You'd think we'd all be desperate for space from one another after a long weekend in an RV, but everyone just sort of went back to piling next to each other, as demonstrated in the following pic. Ahhhh, love. Meara, obviously, was exhausted though and needed a lap nap, while Nestle settled for a side cuddle:

We got back just in time for Meara to go to Texas Children's Hospital for her OxiCardioRespiroGram with a pH probe. Basically, I had to spend hours in a little room with her going through her feeding and sleep cycles while she was attached to a monitoring machine via a tube stuck through her nose down her esophagus. It measured her breathing and heart rate and acid levels. She did well and had optimistic results, though it was very sad to see her with tubes -- emotions too reminiscent of her earliest days after birth.

But come Friday, Jon was ready to go back to Choke Canyon to go bird hunting with his buddies Jackson and Binky:

After a successful bird hunt filled with gory tales, Jackson returned to Houston while Jon and Bink stayed in Choke Canyon for some more fishing. Lots of fishing; these boys never tire of it.

Of course, this weekend was my first overnight alone adventure with the baby, so I could only look at the pictures they brought back to get the idea of the experience. So, readers, here I am in the same boat as you (goody -- a fishing pun!).

The lake seemed pretty ... but what lake doesn't look enchanting at sunset?


I used to think Jon gets pumped about his fish, but then I watched some BassMaster Classics, and I realized Jon -- even with his tongue wagging out of his head and that "I'm-kind-of-a-big-deal" swagger -- is actually pretty mild when compared to other fishheads when tasting victory:


And if Jon is mild, then Binky is barely more than apathetic, at least in this pic:


I believe I've explained Binky before, but if you need a refresher, he and Jon go back to the chemE-class days at K-State, and he now works for Conoco-Phillips up north in Borger, Texas. Also, and perhaps of more interest, his name isn't actually Binky, as you may have guessed. His name is John. His last name is Boehnke, the English translation of which sounds like "binky." My theory is that my Jon is the alpha Jon among his bachelor-days John friends. Both his friends John English and John Boehnke have forfeitted their given names for nicknames; John English is Big Red (reddish hair), and John Boehnke is Binky (as previously explained). Jon is Jon. However, a lot of people do call him Biggie (a la the last name), and Big Red does call him "Mo" quite often (this goes back to a story from when they both worked at a golf course, and I'm choosing not to repeat the controversial origin). But because I love and flatter him, I'll continue to believe he's Alpha Jon.

Back to the lake ... there was a spooky tree graveyard in its depths, which made a natural art exhibit the boys appreciated. I only included one pic of this, but the boys documented it well:


While Jon was away, I decided I'd better get back to my roots and take advantage of the mommy time by reading Meara her first book. I grew up with my mom reading to me all the time, and as a result, I have always enjoyed reading (which led to writing and teaching). However, as of late, I'd been too emotional to read ... seriously, my hormones were still so out of whack that even getting through the Gartan Mother's Lullaby (a Celtic lullaby from my childhood), which always seems to soothe the baby, was difficult without choking up. So, with Jon and his potential fun-poking ways absent, I decided to give a book a go. I chose "God Gave Us You," which was a gift from my mother to Meara. OMG. Although it's a perfect first message for your little one, it was a rough choice for my first run at reading to my daughter. I kept falling apart at each page, and the sentiment was almost too much for me! Meara, on the other hand, did not cry, and she's an actual baby.

Speaking of words and sentiment, when I was pregnant, I got a kick out of witty onesies. Since I didn't know the baby's sex, I was limited in the clothing department, but sex has no bearing on humor; everybody likes to be entertained. So, I bought a few amusing outfits for the kiddo. I had a sweet one that read "new in town," a strong one that said "sleep is for the weak," and a sassy one that said "I still live with my parents." Here she is looking superfine in the latter (I think she gets it ... I spy a knowing little chuckle):


Jon returned safely and soundly (and satisfied from his fishing adventures), but poor Meara had to go back to Texas Children's Hospital for a head ultrasound. As I believe I mentioned earlier, she had a brain bleed discovered in her testing while in the NICU, and while that sounds scarier than it is most of the time, her pediatrician thought it wise to monitor the situation. I'd wondered why I'd never heard of a head ultrasound before, and it turns out that's because people older than a few months can't get them! The baby's cranial soft spot is the key -- the ultrasound technology can travel through this trap door in the infant's head as long as it hasn't closed up too much. Fascinating. The nurse wanted to try giving her a paci to distract her, but this situation reaffirmed that Meara is not a paci baby, which is fine by me. She managed to stay chill the whole time but took a few hits on her thumb instead to keep her cool. Anyway, the ultrasound looked good! God's been good to my little girl!

Meara's Valentine's-week present to us was a huge milestone: sleeping through the night. She'd been sleeping a decent block, but she finally hit that eight-hour mark when she was just past eight weeks old. That was about the best gift any new parent of a healthy baby could wish for, right? Absolutely. The best part was, since we had the apnea monitor, I didn't have that first-full-night's-sleep experience of waking in horror with the thought, "it's been too long so something's wrong!" Nope. I just enjoyed it. Jon's parents came back into town that week, as well, and they gave us a blessing, too ... a V-Day date night. Yep; spring is around the corner, and things are coming back to life, y'all.

Here is Meara on her first Valentine's Day ... my apologies that she isn't decked out in pink and red hearts, but at this point she didn't have many people to impress. In this photo, she's serenading us with a round of "That's Amore":


During Jon's parents' visit, we made a point to get together with Louis's brother Kenneth and his wife Janice, which is always a pleasure. They had come to visit us in the hospital, but since Meara was in the Level II NICU, they weren't able to see her. So, this was an opportunity for them to meet the newest baby Biggerstaff.


While everybody was busy cuddling the baby, Jon and I got to cuddle each other:


Once again, Jon's parents left us, but this time it was their last Houston visit for a while. However, we would see them again at a lake (where else?) later that week for another camping trip. This next pic is a favorite; Meara's grandpa has our precious little baby ball under his wing:


I love to take pictures, so having a baby provides lots of photo ops. Before she gets too mobile, too big or too willful, I decided to take some artsy pics. Here are just a few to capture the details of her tiny perfection:










Soooo precious. Adding to the joy is that big smiles have become an event that is pretty regular (though never taken for granted!). Take a look at this infectious piece of evidence (I bet you smile when you see it):


Babies are very versatile subjects, so sometimes the photo ops are more silly than sentimental, but they're all priceless. Something we learned from our breastfeeding class is that after a feeding, breastfed babies tend to become what is often called "milk drunk." They're so warm and full and content from the closeness, food and the happy/bonding hormones that come from both, that they tend to end up like this (Meara should be the milkaholic poster child):


For her two-month appointment, Meara had her first out-of-hospital vaccinations. She handled them brilliantly. Due to my history of vaccination sensitivities (contracting live-vaccine chicken pox and measles viruses), we decided to spread out her vaccinations when they contain critters. It doesn't cost any more, and since I am home with the baby during the day anyway, it doesn't cause a scheduling conflict to simply bring in the baby for nurse's visits for the remaining vaccinations in between pediatrician appointments. Here she is (with her monitor on) showing off her Band-Aids after her shots:


So, the next day, we headed off to Sam Rayburn Reservoir for another weekend of camping and ... you guessed it ... fishing!

If you aren't an avid boating-rules follower, you may not be aware that children, at least in Texas, are required to wear a lifejacket at all times when aboard a boat while it's on water. Jon's parents got her an infant lifejacket, and although she's just shy of seaworthy as of yet, we couldn't help but try on the jacket for size ... and giggles. See, it's meant to fit around an infant's neck ... but, infants don't really have necks. Ours doesn't yet, anyway, so it's a pretty comical sight, but it's amazing how well she tolerated it. Maybe she'll be ready to put it to use sooner than later:


Jon was so proud that she put up with wearing the jacket. I think he figured it was training. Despite all the adorable fun frills of dressing a little girl, I think it's also the accessory he's been most excited about seeing on his daughter -- by far:


Meara's really learned to love cuddling with her grandpa:


Meara's really good about being out in public. She's a pretty laid-back, low-maintenance kiddo. Of course, that makes it too easy sometimes to push her schedule beyond its limits, so I can't say I haven't had to sit in a restaurant restroom stall for an emergency feeding session here or there. I sense there will be a time I don't go through so much trouble to make people I don't know as comfortable as possible; you'd think a blanket over the situation would suffice, but in a public place, you'd be surprised at some of the awkwardness regardless. Anyway, when I returned from my stint of nursing in isolation, baby finally fed and happy, we posed for a lovely family pic:


Meara is not levatating here. Jon likes to play airplane with the baby. I don't know if the baby likes to play airplane with Jon:


For as much time as I spend with her, I hardly have any pics of me with Meara. I think it's mostly because I'm generally behind the camera taking the photos. Jon's parents obliged in capturing the two of us girls together, though:


Jon's mom is always a really good sport about hanging out with me if I don't go out with the guys when they fish. So, this time, I thought it would be nice for her to enjoy some fishing herself with her hubby and her son, which she hardly gets to do anymore. I stayed back with Meara and the dogs in the RV while the Biggerstaffs got in some good times and good catches.

Nice job, Mom:


Impressive, Dad:


Way to do it, Jon; that thing's a pig:


Here's Jon with a double-fisting fish shot:


And here are daughter and father, both freshly washed, zoning out on the couch in front of the television (I did not let Meara be exposed to much television at all in her early months, so this was a special treat for her):


We arrived to spend the month's final week back at home and get readjusted to our house ... and a less-fishy environment. Nestle always likes being around Mandy and the parents, but he found himself quite comfy in his own sun spot on Meara's worm gym:


And so I'll leave you with the image of Meara doing her Bob Dole impression ... if she could add vocals, she might say, in a gruff male voice, "Despite the wires and a full diaper, Bob Dole is an attractive baby" (third person is a must, if you recall).

Oh, and one more thing ... at the very end of the month, after a good tickling, Meara let out a short little laugh! Music!

And here are February's fun facts on what Meara was up to by the end of this month:

• She's in the 50th percentile for height at 22.5 inches, in the 80th percentile for weight at 12 lbs. (that's a big jump from 25th last month!) and the 50th percentile for head circumference at 38.5 cm.
  
• She eats every three to three and one half hours once she wakes up in the morning. We dropped the 3 a.m. feeding now that she's sleeping upwards of eight hours a night, though sometimes she'll still do a 6 a.m. feeding but then go back to bed until about 9:30 a.m. to really start the day.
  
• She does a lot of gutteral coos that sound like "gull."
  
• She loves being tickled on her tummy during diaper changes, making eye contact and looking at books (Peek-A-Who? seems to be a favorite).
  
• She does not love being left on her back too long without entertainment.
  
• She enjoys her worm gym (which she has to fight Nestle for) and listening to music.
  
• She's learning to track with her eyes and smile big in response to us.

March, here we come!

January 2009: a new life meets a new year

Haaaaaaaappy New Year, folks!

So, we were able to celebrate the incoming year as a family of three. Jon and I had our little one, and the accompanying tax break, with us just in time to usher in 2009. Nice.

Although Meara couldn't put up a toast, set off firecrackers or kiss a bystander like the rest of the autonomously functioning population, she did celebrate in sorts via having a milestone New Year's Day: her umbilical cord fell off! Way to go, kid! I'd been anxiously awaiting the casting off of that pesky little delicate eyesore, so I was thrilled and also convinced it was her baby version of a New Year's resolution, to start the year fresh and cord free (not wire free, mind you, as she still had her monitor). Now begins the wait to find out whether she will have an innie or outie. Personally, I prefer innies ... no offense to members of the outie kingdom.

Here is Meara sans attached umbilical cord:



And here is Miss Meara swaddled up on her Boppy Lounger after the hard work of creating a bellybutton (by the way, the instructions on the loungers specify that adults are not to let the baby sleep on the boppy; but c'mon, seriously, that's what babies do, people):

Ok, now, I have to admit that Nestle, though he is my original baby, got sorely overlooked in my blogs dealing with December of 2008 due to the whole new-human birth thing. So, I'm going to try to make that up a little now before I get too much farther into January.

Late November 2008, after Jon's brother Jared and his family visited over the holiday, Nes had to go into the vet. I think with the excitement of little people around the house, plus unsanctioned food scraps from Thanksgiving, etc., his old self just got out of whack, and his system stressed out. He was not eating or drinking properly, he had pukesplosions and poopsplosions, he was losing weight (very bad on an 8-pound dog), and he was acting puny. So, long story short, after some brief hospitalization, a hefty vet bill and some prescriptions, he returned home and recovered fairly well. And by that I mean, at his age, coming back from this sort of thing is never fully realized, but in his circumstances, he ended up in better shape than expected.

I have to give props to Jon, who, despite his joking that he'd never spend more than the price of a new dog, was really patient and understanding and willing to let us do what it took to meet my needs when it came to caring for Nes. This is good, because it took a lot. In addition to his I.V.s administered in the vet, he got a subcutaneous fluid shot before leaving, which resulted in what I called his "water boob," which was a pocket of saline settling in the lowest point of his chest and flopping around. Sorry to be crass, but he looked like the canine version of a braless old woman with a uniboob. He also had what looked like a little green cast, but it was wrappings on his catheter, which we left in for a while in case he relapsed and had to return for more I.V. therapy. Jon, who likes to play doctor, simply took it out after a few days.

This doesn't fully represent the water boob, but you'll get the gist:



Thanks to both the nature of expelling a baby and my episiotomy, I insisted the hospital gift me a donut to sit on during my recovery. Note: I insisted. Ladies, if you don't get something from the hospital you think would be useful, then ask. Although they may not offer, there are not a lot of things nurses will deny a newly annointed mommy.

Here, Nestle discovered and usurped my donut (in all fairness, he was recovering, too):



Nestle continued his rein of plunder by taking over the Boppy Lounger, as well. At least the instructions didn't say dogs can't sleep on the Boppy:



Once I'd established a pattern of spending a decent amount of time in the nursery with nighttime feedings, etc., I noticed Nestle was always following me around and trying to get in my lap while I nursed the baby in the glider. Needless to say, three's a crowd when it comes to those circumstances, so I decided to get Nes a place to cuddle in our presence so he could still feel included. I purchased him a lovely faux-fur pet bed to match the black crib and glider, and I put it at the foot of the ottoman. Success!

Here is Nes in his nursery bed:



Ok, now back to the human goings on. When Meara was just over two and a half weeks old, Jon and I left her with his parents to go to Jon's coworker's wedding. Some people might wonder how we could leave her for an evening at such a young age, but remember, we'd already gone a week without her after her birth, so it was a little easier to take a few hours off our parenting gig. Plus, we knew she was in perfectly capable hands. We just gave the grandparents some basic instructions on her apnea monitor, and since she was pro at going between breast and bottle (also due to her NICU stay) and I had a pump with a car adapter so I could take care of business on the go, it really wasn't a difficult event. All went well.

It was nice to clean up and dress up for the wedding, which was lovely:



Amidst the baby action, Jon and his dad had an opportunity to take out the boat and do a little fishing on Lake Houston.

Here are the guys a couple of their trophies:





We were also excited to be able to celebrate Jon's birthday with his parents and our girl before Louis and Diana took off for some adventures in travel for a while. It was also an interesting thought on January 6, Jon's 28th birthday, that at just past three weeks old, Meara was due to be born that same day. It was weird to imagine still having her in my belly after seeing this little person face to face for the last few weeks! Well, Jon got to keep his birthday for himself, and we were all happy to enjoy it with him.

Here's Meara singing to her daddy ... "Haaaaaaappy biiiiiiiiirthdaaaaay dear Daaaaaaaad, haaaaappy biiiiiiiirthdaaaaay tooooooo youuuuuuu!" ... I think I must have captured her somewhere in the middle of the chorus:



Even Nestle got up for the occasion:



Here's Jon showing his prowess as a new father. He's a multitasking pro, having mastered the football hold in conjunction with the thumb-as-pacifier move (we opted out of actual pacifiers):



Family portrait time:



Unfortunately, Meara's good humor didn't last through the photos with her grandparents. They were forgiving and still look tickled, though:



Jon wanted to go out to our favorite Mexican-food joint, Lupe Tortilla. So, after a dinner of fabulous fajitas and a tasty margarita for the birthday boy, Jon got a birthday song in Spanish, some free sopapillas and the coveted sombrero de cumpleanos to wear for a while:



Since Jon didn't have to share his birthday with Meara after all, he felt he could at least spare the sombrero for a bit so Meara could experience what it would have been like to have the same birthday:



Jon's parents left the next day with plans to meet back up with us at the end of the month for a camping trip, and my mom flew back in at the end of the week. It was great to have her again, and she was so glad to see Meara, who was still in the NICU when she left, finally at home where she belongs.

Mom's husband Bill came to visit some days later, and they both got to see our sweet pea on the day she turned one month old (so, so, so cute):



I wanted to capture what we call "baby-chick hair," which is a natural phenomenon that occurs after a washing in both father and child:



Everybody knows one of the perks of having a baby girl is how fun they are to dress and accessorize, and my mom takes this as a duty. Here is her manifestation of fashionbaby:



While Mom and Bill were in town, we celebrated a Biggerstaff-Brungardt Christmas. We had done a little Christmas before Mom left town last time, but we did another go because this time we had Meara and Bill present. Below is a pic of Meara next to one of her gifts from her Nana and Papa:



So what was the gift, you ask? It's an adorable three-in-one jumper/walker/activity center deal that may or may not function well, but I registered for it because it is made to look like a vintage red car and therefore is so darn cute that practicality took a back seat (hey, that's a car pun!). Anyway, it will be a while until we bust it out, but I'm sure you'll see pics to come.

Here are Mom and Bill and Jon after a fun round of gift opening:



If you look closely, you'll see the book I'm looking at in the pic below is called "Little Peachling." It's an antique copy my mom found for me. It's meaningful because I was in a play in elementary school called "Momotaro" of the same old Asian folklore story, and it's so great to have a mom who appreciates the sentimentality of memories from the nooks and crannies of my childhood. Thanks, Mom!



Although giving baths is something Jon and I decided would be primarily his thing for a while, I acknowledge there will be times, especially with Meara's aptitude for spitting up, that I have to step up in his absence. So, here I am taking care of the maintenance. Fortunately, Meara's bathitude (parenting creates all sorts of new words in one's mind!) has improved:



Here's Bill enjoying his first grandbaby (and wisely sporting the burp cloth):



Jon and Meara are both prone to naps, and they seem to find a peace in being near one another during a good snooze. They are one strangely small and one grossly oversized pea to be in the same pod, but they are precious nonetheless (with matching coloring and hairstyles, especially, one can see the similarities, though):



Mom and Bill were kind enough to babysit Meara while Jon and I went to a work function, so now the baby's had the pleasure of two grandparental-care evenings, and Jon and I have had two evenings to get out as a couple. Man, I will say I'm jealous of people who have local family and the benefits thereof! The evening went well, though I did have to field a phone call from Mom and tell her how to diffuse the monitor alarm, which was having issues again. Argh. They were good sports!

I'm sure you've all been curious about this apnea monitor, so despite my attempts to describe it, I'll go ahead and include a photo for the visual learners among you. Taaaa-daaaaaaa:



I wanted to give Meara a break from her monitor every now and then, but when she goes wireless, supervision is required. So, I started putting the swaddled baby on her lounger in the bathroom for a nap while I showered so I could keep an eye on her. One day, she managed to escape her swaddle during my shower, but her tossing and turning still did not wake her. I love that she is hugging her blanket:



Mom and Bill had to take off the next Monday, but we're hoping for another visiting opportunity in a few months.

The next photo is one of Jon's favorites, and his reasoning feels very aligned with male thinking. It appears she is ... ummm ... giving a defiant gesture of disapproval, which seems especially funny when coupled with her tender age, pleasant partial smirk and feminine little bow and bib.



Toward the end of the week, Jon and a friend took a fishing trip to Luca's Bayou. I like this triumphant photo of Jon:



That evening, a few days away from six weeks old, we found evidence of Meara's first tears! It's wild that babies generally take a while to actually cry tears. Who knew? See the shiny trail? I imagine this is one of the only times I'll be excited to see my daughter's tears! And look how she turns color!



And at the opposite end of the spectrum, the day she turned six weeks old, we got smiles! Every parent waits for the day of his or her baby's first legitimate smile; it's a huge payoff day. And boy, did she smile. She looks like a different kid when she breaks into her huge, dimpled, almost cartoonish grin, and it always makes me laugh! The slight crookedness of it comes from her daddy and grandpa Louis, although on her it is much more exaggerated. Adorable:



At the end of the month, I decided that after all those belly shots leading up to the birth, I might as well go ahead and include a post-baby belly shot, too, to remember my progress at this stage. I took this photo one day after Meara turned six weeks old; I'm still a little softer than I want to be, but I'm back in my jeans without the bellyband (they don't protest too much), and I'm within a handful of pounds from my prepreggie weight, to which I give a strong nod to breastfeeding, and after seeing my mom, you'd probably believe genetics had a little to do with it, as well!



With a few days left in January, we took our first overnight trip. The three of us and Nestle met up with Jon's parents and Mandy in Choke Canyon, where we all stayed in their RV. The guys got in some fishing, Jon's mom and I got to visit, and in sharing a small space, everyone had a little extra bonding time with the baby! We were able to stick to her feeding and sleeping schedule without much difficulty, also (just threw a blanket over the portacrib to provide a little barrier for sight and sound, and, like a bird, that's all it took!).

But, no matter how much sleep they get, babies are always up for a good yawn:



Ahhhh, the fishermen with their spoils ... Jon wanted it noted that he sported a nice bass, while his dad is showing off a lowly drum. Personally, I like catching drum, and I think there are uglier bottom feeders to be found. Anyway, aren't they cute in their hats and sunglasses:





On our last day, we loaded up our stuff and the baby, who was sad to go, but she managed to pull it together and look peaceful for this pic ... man, this kid's got serious eyebrows (again, thanks to her daddy). Love it:



Here we are before taking off, and fortunately, Jon's parents will come back through Houston again in a couple of weeks before they head back to Kansas City:



In case you're hungering for more baby tidbits, I thought I'd give a few fun facts on what Meara was up to by the end of this month:

• She's in the 50th percentile for height at 20.5 inches, in the 25th percentile for weight at 7 lbs., 12.75 oz. and the 25th percentile for head circumference at 35.5 cm. Not bad for an early bird!
• She takes 1-to-1.5-hour naps during the day after feeding and wake time. She sleeps well, only fussing for a few minutes at the beginning or middle of a nap, and we're having success getting her used to varied sleep conditions and locations.
• She eats every three hours starting around 9:30 a.m. then whenever she wakes naturally due to hunger at night; right now, she sleeps approximately five to six hours solid at night.
• She does a lot of screetching and arm flailing, so we've taken to calling her dragonbaby regularly.
• She loves when people sing to her, and she enjoys being on her lounger in the action.
• She does not love when the wait time between waking up and being fed is extended.
• She enjoys being shushed and calms right down with the famed Five S's: swaddling, side/stomach positioning in our arms, shushing, swinging (more like a light up-and-down shaking or vibrating) and sucking (a thumb to the mouth does the trick).
• She's learning to show hunger cues and self soothe by sucking her fist; she's also staying more chill during diaper changes and baths.

Looking toward February!