2,3,1

The girls are so sweet to Dominic, it warms my heart.  They love to hold him, nuzzle him, rub his little soft fuzzy head, and give him hugs.  When it's time to give goodnight hugs, or when I pick them up from preschool, they always greet him first.  He is very loved.  He's not going to have his own space, though, until he's 16 and they are both out of the house.  I hope he doesn't mind.  Not sure how he could, with a life full of snuggling.  Sometimes I look at him and think I have to get in all the cuddles I can now, because a year from now he'll be too active to hug, and 12 years from now he'll be too embarrassed.

Last Thursdays' Scare

I spend Thursdays at home now, just me and Dominic and some work.  We've had very few leisurely days like I envisioned, and last Thursday was no exception.  The morning went pretty typically, then around 9:30 a.m. he began to cry, and cry and cry some more.  He took a few naps, and woke up crying.  He ate a little, but cried during nursing.  That's when I knew something was wrong.  Around 2 p.m. I called the doctor, just because he seemed inconsolable and in pain.  They told me to bring him in at 3:45p.m.  So I texted John, grabbed the baby and headed to St. Louis.  Dominic cried the entire way. =(  Our favorite, best doctor ever took his temperature, which was 100.1, and sent us to the emergency room for some tests and bloodwork.  Doctors get real concerned when a baby less than 3 months old gets a fever.  So, at 5 p.m. we headed to St. John's Mercy's ER.  They saw us right away, which was nice, and put him in this little baby hospital gown.  Poor little guy.  They tested him for the flu and RSV viruses, and both of those came back negative.  Then they tested his blood and had a heck of a time drawing blood because he was dehydrated. =(  They gave him an IV of fluids and we waited for the blood tests to come back.  They were mostly testing for meningitis. =(  That would have been bad.  After many hours, they sent us home saying it was just a bad virus and to keep an eye out on him.  We got home at 1 a.m.  Dr. Molitor called on Friday, twice on Saturday and again on Sunday to check up on his little buddy.  He ran a tiny fever over the weekend, but seemed in good spirits, no more hours of crying, and ate well and slept well, and so did I.  I woke up Friday feeling like I had been hit by a truck, how exhausting for both of us.

Luckily he's all better now.  He's had a few colds already this year, we've had a pretty sickly winter, but the weather is warming up, the sun is shining, and I'm hoping the worst is behind us.

Mild Winter, Early Spring

The blooms are early this year.  One of my favorite flowers came almost a month early this year.
3/30/05

3/21/06

No Rest

Life sure is a hoppin and a boppin over here.  Most of it is fun.  This video is fun.  I wish I could just bottle her up and keep her like this.  4 year olds are cute.  Two year olds, on the other hand, not that I'm naming any names, are not that enjoyable lately.  Two year olds cry, all, day, long.  Two year olds have bad dreams about Mommy taking away her candy and Mommy is holding baby brother.  She has been sick, though, lately, because she just started preschool and with preschool comes germs.  I keep telling myself that she's just sick, or she's just two, but what if she's like this when she's not two, or not sick?  I don't want to think about that.  Not that I'm naming any names.

Just In Time for Valentine's Day

Dominic is smiling now, great big smiles, and coos, and baby language for "I Love You."  He's great.

Proceed to Party

Hat or Not Hat 2012 style with our trendy red solo cups.

Future Jersey Shore Star

I took these pictures a week and a half ago.  He looks different already to me.  He sleeps like a champ.  He sleeps 7 or 8 hours every night.  Every night.  I know, I can't hardly believe it either.  The girls were always on a strict 3 hour schedule until we sleep trained them both at 6 months.  People would brag to me that their child slept through the night at 9 days or something equally ridiculous and I can remember wanting to punch them in the face, thinking to myself, "that didn't really happen, you just have a blurred memory."  And here I am with a child that sleeps large chunks of time at night, and I am so grateful.  So grateful.  I feel like a human being most mornings.  I am still tired, and my every moment is still super busy, but I get a good nights' sleep and I'm back at it.  There is a downside though, which is a bummer.  He seems fussier during the day.  His poop schedule is off, probably because of his erratic eating patterns because he misses feedings while he sleeps and then is super hungry when he is awake, which also makes it hard to breastfeed him.  I either have too little milk or too much milk at any given minute of any given day because he has either eaten 5 times in 7 hours, or has slept for 7 hours and not eaten anything.  We're working it out though, and I do honestly think that I'd rather have a few more cries during the day and a good nights' rest than do what I did with Cecilia and Charlotte, waking up 3 or more times every night to feed them.  He smiles now, which is super cute.  He looks right at me, usually in the morning, and gives me big grins, and my heart skips a beat every time.  I haven't gotten a picture of that smile, though, because they are few and far between due to his fussiness.

I must have NYC on the brain, and listening to Howard Stern and watching oodles of the Cake Boss helps, but once last week, with a little outfit with a zipper and a onesie on underneath he looked like a little New Jersey guido to me, and once with his little tummy and tight fitting shirt he looked like Ronnie Mund to me, my little tiny old jewish guy.

Empathizing With the Rock Biter

On Wednesday Cecilia came to work with me.  I have been toting Dominic around with me all day every day, and Cecilia said last week she wanted to go with me to work, so this week I sent Dominic and Charlotte to the babysitter, Mrs. Christy's, house, and brought Cec with me.  The weather couldn't have been nicer, especially for this time of year, and right before lunch we decided to take a little walk.  She knew where we were going, my favorite place on the farm isn't too far, and we buried Java there last year and went and visited him a few times last year together.  When we got there, we said a few nice words to Java, then Cecilia wanted to head down to the creek just below us.  There's two little waterfalls, and a big puddle, and I'm content nowadays to just stand nearby and listen to the creek's song, but Cecilia kept asking to go closer.  I remember spending so many years of my life hopping from stone to stone on creek after creek, so before we knew it we were standing in the middle of the creek on a big rock covered in wet moss.  Cecilia is a very cautious child, asking everytime, "Mom, can I stand on that rock now?"  She moved to the other side of the creek, hung on a sapling, raised her feet, and the tiny tree broke at the bottom, and she fell over flat on her back.  She cried immediately, that piercing "I'm hurt" cry, and I reached down to pick her up.  I thought maybe she had the wind knocked out of her, and she was scared, but when I put my hand up to her neck I instantly saw blood.  Her blond curls quickly turned red as I climbed, huffing and puffing up the first hill.  I don't do very well with blood, but I knew I had to hold it together for her.  She couldn't see what I could see, which made it much better for her.  It was a long trek from the bottom of the creek to the top of the first hill, carrying all 35 pounds of her, but my adrenaline was moving me forward.  We stopped for a minute, I put her down, and surveyed her wound.  The bleeding had already slowed down, but I couldn't see much.  My fingers were sticky and her collar was reddish brown.  I picked her back up, went down a little hill, and back up another hill to the winery building.  I sat her on the toilet and found Dad.  He looked at her head, said the cut was about a half inch, and not too bad and suggested we take her up to his house to clean her up a little better.  At Dad's house he washed a few curls and her cut with a little soap and water by the kitchen sink, dried her now pink hair with a soft towel, put some triple antibiotic salve on her head, and sat her down to watch some Tom and Jerry and eat a brownie.  She stopped crying, we ate some lunch and she felt better.  I will have to admit I didn't get much work done Wednesday afternoon.  I didn't want to lay her down for a nap in case she had a concussion, so we played ring around the rosie, and took a short walk through the vineyard.  She happily bound around, little curls, some of them blood stained and greasy, moving with every step, and she called out to me, 'Skip with me momma."  I was so happy she was ok.    We got home and showed John, took a nice bath that night and cleaned the cut and her hair real well, and she hasn't mentioned it since, except when Dad called yesterday to see how she was doing.

I, on the other hand, can't get it out of my mind.  I was standing right there...she's so cautious....I spent my entire childhood doing just what she was doing...what kind of mother am I?  Why do I have all these nurturing instincts if they can't help me?  I replay the whole scenario everytime I lay down to sleep, everytime I do the dishes, everytime I take a shower.  I'm reminded of a character of one of my favorite movies, The Neverending Story.  In it, there's a guy called the Rock Biter.  He's made of rock, his whole body, and he's so strong.  They are all running away from The Nothing, and he tries to hold on to his friends, but The Nothing sucks them out of his hands like a vacuum.  He sits there, defeated, and tells his friend, Atreyu, "They look like big, good, strong hands. Don't they? I always thought that's what they were. My little friends. The little man with his racing snail, the Nighthob, even the stupid bat. I couldn't hold on to them. The nothing pulled them right out of my hands. I failed."  


This is how I feel when I think about this incident with Cecilia, and also when Charlotte burned her hand two years ago.  I feel like I am equipped with all the makings of a good mom, but sometimes I fail.  I know this is part of parenting, and I can't shield them from everything bad, but it seems like such a kick in the face to have it happen right in front of me, right when I'm standing right there.  I know this anxiety will pass, and sadly, I know this isn't the last time I will feel like this.

Hat or Not Hat Month

Kicking off Hat or Not Hat with a bang.  Anybody that wants to play along, just send me your pictures. =)  Leave your shame at the door. =)

Blog Birthday

7 years and I still have something to say.  I hope to blog more this year than last, but that's not saying much.  Hoping to chronicle Dominic's life, because it's so fun to go back and look at the girls' pictures when they were so tiny.

I'm a sucker for a photo booth.  These were taken at Abbey and Doug's wedding this past weekend.  What fun!

Christmas 2011

Cecilia and her Zhu Zhu Pets

Charlotte and her bubble wrap =)

gobs of cousins

Grandma reading a book

Our 3 little people

Why Didn't I Think of That?

We're all a buzz over here, getting ready for Abbey's wedding, the wedding of the century. I have pictures to post from Christmas and Cecilia's birthday, but those will come later. Right now we have to prepare and celebrate.

Christy called this morning, missing mom. Mom would have loved to be there this weekend. She loved big elaborate fancy parties. She would have been in her element. Christy and I were talking about how it rained on my wedding day, and she said that one of mom's best friends, MaryLee, whispered to Christy when we walked out the church door that the rain was mom's tears of joy. I had never thought of that, but it's like that sad country song, Holes in the Floor of Heaven.


Well my little girl is 23
I walk her down the aisle
it's a shame her mom can't be here now
to see her lovely smile

They throw the rice
I catch her eye
as the rain starts comin' down
she takes my hand says daddy don't be sad 'cause
I know momma's watchin' now

And there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and her tears are pourin down
that's how you know she's watchin'
wishin' she could be here now
and sometimes when I'm lonely
I remember she can see
there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and she's watchin' over you and me



There are still some days like today, 11 years later, that I still miss her so dearly. I know we'll have fun this weekend. I know mom will be in our hearts. And maybe next time it rains I can stop scurrying around and grimacing and take a minute to feel mom's embrace.

Eye Candy

I've always wanted to be part of a flash mob...




This one is from last year, but so cool!

And, I don't know if this video will link properly, but I can not get this out of my head.  You have to click on it, and take a few minutes to watch these people.  I keep thinking, "I So want to do this!" and then I watch it again, and think, "These people are crazy!"  Fascination....inspiration...exhiliration....insane!  Haven't decided whether or not to add this to my list of things to do after the kids are grown, probably be too late...maybe I'll just start with bungee jumping, or white water rafting.

Dom, dom, dom, dom, dom, de, doobe, dom

Wondering how we chose his name? It's not from this little song or video, although this is cute. =) We've had this name picked out since we were pregnant with Cecilia.

We both just liked the name Dominic. The name means, "of the Lord." I knew a guy named Dominic, and people called him Dom for short, and I loved that. It reminded me of this song.



This song was always one of mom's favorites, from the year she graduated high school. Plus, it was on the Stand By Me soundtrack which I listened to continuously from about the time I was 11 or 12 to 14 or 15. What a great movie and soundtrack.

The name Calvin comes from John's grandpa, John Calvin Smith, whom John was named after.  Somewhere along the way I'll try to find a picture of John's grandpa.  John looks a lot like him.  From what I've heard about him, he was a quiet farmer from Hicksville, OH.  John has his eyes, and his posture.  When I envision John as an old man, I always picture his grandpa.

Well, busy day today, I've got my two week check up, and a few last minute gifts to buy.  Tomorrow is Dominic's 2 week check up.  How can two weeks have gone by already?  I keep trying to count the days on my hands, not accepting that it's been 2 weeks already.  I've just started to feel a little better, but I feel like those days are lost, and his life is already on the fast track.  I'm looking forward to spending some nice time with my family of 5 (today is Johns last day of work for 2 weeks, Wee!) and in between we've got Christmas Eve at the farm, Christmas Day at our house with John's parents, and then Cecilia's birthday at Chuck E Cheese.  When does life slow down?  When do I have that quiet maternity leave full of new baby love?

"I Don't Want to Talk About Him Right Now."

 Cecilia loves to hold Baby Brother.

 Charlotte giving Dominic a snuggle, or posing for the camera, you choose.

Big Sister, Little Brother

The girls are really really good with little Dominic (minus Charlotte sneezing on his face this morning.)  Abbey took the girls Friday, Friday night and Saturday.  They hung out at Christy's house, watched movies.  Cecilia wasn't feeling well, she threw up on the way from our house to theirs, and had a fever, and just laid on the couch most of Saturday evening.  Christy said she asked how baby brother was and Cecilia said, "I don't want to talk about him right now."  Not sure if she just wasn't feeling good, or was relishing her time away from him, but it makes me laugh a little.  I can get myself all worked up about sibling rivalry, and I have to remind myself that it's normal, and natural.  As sweet and good natured as Cecilia is, she can have just the right amount of sass, and coming from my own personality of mostly happy with some attitude, I can appreciate Cecilia's willingness to say what she means.

Wannabe

I like this picture the best.  Becky made his little hat and I don't think he's taken it off since.  Becky let me borrow the basket too.  She's so great.  =)  We tried to take these sort of pictures when Maggie was tiny, but it didn't work out quite as nice.  I have a running list in my head of things I want to do when I'm old and grey, and I told John a couple months ago that I want to take professional pictures later in life, and he said, "Sure everyone else does."  =(

 I like his little foot sticking out.

Blissfully Ignorant

This picture was taken the night before Dominic was born, December 7th, 2011.  Looks how cute and innocent I look.    Remember when I said that I thought being pregnant was worse than having a new born?  How naive of me.  How special.  How idiotic.  Here I sit 8 days later, feeling the weight of a newborn child hit our life like a ton of bricks.  And he only weighs 7 and a half pounds!  To be fair, it's not really right to blame Dominic.  He's cute and sweet and just doing what newborns do.  He can be fun and the girls just adore him and can't keep their hands off him.  Here's how my life is shaping up right about now.  (funk soul brother)

1.  I have a terrible cold.  I lost my voice most of the time I was in the hospital, with people visiting and nurses asking me questions, and family members calling on the phone, my voice was being most annoying.  I went to the clinic yesterday (what a day that was) convinced I had a sinus infection, but no, I only have the common cold.    I know you're not supposed to take antibiotics if you're not really sick, and I am one of the biggest proponents of that, but it is frustrating to feel so awful and leave the clinic with no medicine.  The nurse wanted to give me tylenol with codine, but wasn't sure she could because I am nursing.  It feels like the world is going to stop and my C-section stitches are going to burst right open when I cough.  Good times.
2.  I once again have those pesky superficial blood clots in my legs.  My OB's nurse called yesterday and when I told her about them and how they were getting worse, she insisted I go get them checked with doppler that day.  So, I called Dad, and he drove Dominic and I to the vascular diagnostic center, then to the clinic.  It was a long tiresome day, but I was very appreciative that Dad could help me, as yesterday was John's first day back at work.  The blood clots will all go away on their own, but they stretch up and down the outside of both legs, and continuing up to my groin area.  They are red, hard, and very tender, and I always seem to bump them on a chair as I go by, or Charlotte or Cecilia seem to know just where they are when they try to climb on me.
3.  The breastfeeding is harder than I remembered.  I know I'll get the swing of it, but it's been a tough few days at home.  Most of the time I feel like I have two croquet balls instead of boobs.  Good times.
4.  Someone has called to talk to me about work almost everyday, and I have put in some computer time 3 days so far, including payroll today.  I know plenty of you can't believe I only take a few weeks off, but I'm here to tell you that that seems like a long time to me, and to everyone I work with.  It's not like I'm one of 5 accountants, and the other 4 can just take on a little extra work while I am gone.  I like work, I like to feel needed, and valuable, and like I'm accomplishing something, but with these other medical issues, and such a short amount of time off, it does seem unreasonable on occasion.
5  My body still thinks I'm pregnant.  My belly is still huge.  My ankles and hands are still swollen.  My midriff is still covered in glue from the tape and bandages.  I can't really see my C-section scar or stitches, and it's never, ever a good idea to step on the scale 5 days after having a baby.  Talk about depression.
6.  Thankfully we've had lots of help with the girls.  We're cashing in all our favors.  Cecilia and Charlotte stayed here with John's parents while I was in the hospital, and since then have gone to Amanda's, Dad and Lesa's and are spending today, tonight and tomorrow with Abbey.  It's a little chaotic here with all 5 of us, and this morning I did 4 hours with just me and the three little ones, and with the help of a cartoon or two and my patience when two glasses of water spilled,  it went really well.  And as much as I love and need the help, and the world is turned a little upside down when we're all together, I always miss them when they're gone.  They are sweet girls, and John is like super Dad and super Husband, and I know once we get past all this transition, Dominic will fit right in.  I don't want to wish away his first few days, but I will have to say I'm looking forward to the day when this all seems like second nature. =)

Birth Announcement App

I made this cute little birth announcement on my phone.

Brand new, 7 pounds 12 ounces

Cecilia and Charlotte meet Dominic

All dressed and ready to go home

He's here!

Dominic Calvin Mooney was born on December 8th at 7:55 am. He weighed 7 pounds 12 ounces at birth and is 20 1/2 inches long. We are all doing fine, hope to go home from the hospital on Sunday. Pictures will be coming soon.