Shitters Full!

"That there's an RV, Clark. Now don't go fallin in love with it, cause we're taking it with us when we leave next month." Cousin Eddie – National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Oh, and we will be taking it with us. Because we own it. Yes, you read that right. Now you're probably wondering how we came into owning our very own RV at the ripe old age of 30 (which is coincidentally 30 years younger than any other diesel-pusher RV owner out there.) Actually, I am wondering the same thing. Because yesterday at this time, we didn't own one. Yesterday at this time we had first class plane tickets to Michigan, leaving a week from tomorrow. Today, however, I am barreling down Highway 59 at 70 miles an hour in a 36 foot beast that feels as big as my house, with two smelly dogs lying on the floor next to me (who am I kidding, Bella is on the couch), and Cousin Eddie at the wheel.....

Yesterday started out ordinary enough. I was making my morning coffee when Kevin asked if I wanted to ride to Seguin with him. It's a 2.5 hour drive, so I don't know why he even bothered to ask. Sit in a car with a screaming infant for 5 hours or hang out on the couch and watch Ellen? The answer was obvious, have a great trip though. Then he told me he was going over there to look at and most likely buy an RV that he had found online that morning, when he got up at 5 am because he couldn’t sleep (note to self: buy Kevin Ambien.) Well, crap. Do I stay home and let him make the call as to how much we HAVE to have it? Or do I suck it up and go along for the ride so that I have 2.5 hours to talk him out of it? Then he pointed out that I couldn't complain about it if I didn't go along to voice my opinion. An hour later, Greyden and I are loaded up and barreling down the highway at 80 miles an hour in my husband's company roller skate car.

Two and a half hours later we were pulling into the dealership, and casting our eyes upon the most amazing RV ever. At least that's what it was if you talked to Kevin. My reaction was more along the lines of "that's it?" Although I have to admit, it's pretty nice. I told him that if he wanted it to go ahead and buy it. Had I known how much that simple phrase would turn my life upside down, I would have kept my mouth shut. Next thing I knew, not only did we own it, Kevin was planning our first road trip in it. For the following day. Because now that we had an RV, we could take the dogs to Michigan with us for the holidays and save ourselves over $600 in pet sitting costs. In theory? Great. In real life? Not so much. For one thing, after we bought it we wouldn’t be getting home from Seguin until 8 at night. And I know Kevin. He would be up at the crack of dawn and trying to get on the road, which would involve a lot of yelling at me to hurry up and get packed. For another, the trip was supposed to still be a week out. Meaning I had done nothing tangible for it so far, since I had what I thought was plenty of time. Once we got home, I would have about 10 loads of laundry to do, an RV to clean, and a suitcase to pack. Oh, and a baby to take care of. And worse, a baby to pack for as well. I could already feel my stress level rising.

I was ready for the plane ride. My Type A personality had the entire thing choreographed, from what to pack for use on the plane to what to designate to our hosts in Michigan to have on hand for us. I’d been thinking about it for weeks so that we didn’t have to take along our entire nursery and cram it into the overhead compartment. I wanted to make sure we weren’t those parents on the plane. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones that practically show up with a crib for the ride. Also known as the ones that have the infant that SCREAMS for the entire flight. Or as the parents sitting next to me. (But never behind me. Those parents have the toddler whose legs are just long enough to connect with the back of my seat. Over and over and over.) Regardless, I was prepared.

Now as I sit here writing this, I find myself with the wide open road ahead of me and the entire nursery behind me. Honestly, I tried to pack lightly. But my nice, streamlined packing plans went straight out the window when I discovered I had 36 feet of storage and an infant with NEEDS. Diapers, wipes, extra pacifiers, a pack and play (with extra sheets of course), baby monitors, the bouncer seat, burp clothes, a baby carrier, stroller, and every item of clothing in his closet. Because you never know what the weather will do. And what if my parent’s washing machine breaks? I HAVE to have enough clothes for him.

Such is the life of the Hockenberrys. This isn’t the first time we randomly jumped in the car and headed up to Michigan. One time we were sitting on the couch at 11:30 am after I had just gotten laid off from my job. It was July 3rd and I suddenly had a lot of free time on my hands. In an effort to distract me and get my mind off my job loss, Kevin decided that we should drive to Michigan. We were on the road within an hour (although we soon realized that having 20+ hours to stare blankly out the window while thinking about how I have no job is not much of a distraction.) Another random moment was our move to Houston. We decided that it sounded like fun (and it sounded warmer than Michigan in December), even though neither of us had ever been there. We jumped on a plane, flew down for a long weekend over New Year’s Eve and bought a house. So we never actually do anything according to plan. Which means I shouldn’t be surprised that my first class ticket will go unused. Because now that we have an AAWWRRRR-VEEEEE (as the redneck salesman called it), the road is calling our names. Guard your driveways.

Return of the Maternity Clothes

I have a slight problem that I really wasn't anticipating. Remember how I was hell bent against maternity clothes? Mainly because I hate to shop for them, but another big reason is that they're not very flattering. Okay, not flattering at all. I have yet to find a pair of maternity jeans that makes my ass look small. Which is one of the reasons I was SO excited to have this baby. Once I had him, I could pack up the maternity clothes and get them out of my life for good! (Or at least get them packed into a tote so they'd be ready for the next one. Right Kevin? Kevin? Hello?) Unfortunately there is one teensy, tiny glitch in my grand plan. I'm 7 weeks post-partum and, um, I might still wearing them. Those 34 pounds that were supposed to fall off right after I birthed the watermelon vetoed me. Okay, I'm being slightly dramatic. Only 14 of them vetoed me. I was slightly off in my estimate that Greyden would weigh 25 pounds at birth. He only weighed 20. Which leaves me with the stubborn 14 pounds left to lose.

Trying to lose weight around the holidays is usually impossible anyway, this year it's going to be hell. I don't can't say no to food. Especially since I'm really good at telling myself that it's the holidays so I only get to eat like this once a year (you know, like I told myself when I was pregnant that I could eat whatever I wanted since I only get to eat like this once. So I'm going on what, 11 months of that mantra?) Needless to say, the maternity clothes that I was so excited to get rid of are still here. And they will be hanging around for a little bit longer. What's funny is that I knew it would take a while to get back to my pre-pregnancy size. So I should have also known that there would be a period of time post-birth when I wouldn't be able to fit into my old clothes. Of course, I don't have the slightest idea what I thought I'd be wearing during this time. All I know for certain is that it's definitely not my old clothes. And it's not that elastic waisted jeans are uncomfortable, but I guess I should have bought a couple more pairs to last me through my "transition phase." To make matters worse, I'm currently at the stage where my pre-pregnancy jeans are a little too tight and my maternity jeans are a little too loose. I spend a lot of time each day hoisting them up. God forbid they add belt loops. And god forbid I bend over in front of you. You'll catch more than your eyefull. But as miserable as I am rotating my two pairs of jeans, I'm not willing to go out and buy more maternity clothes. Nor am I willing to go out and buy bigger non-maternity clothes. Because THAT my friends would be admitting defeat. Besides, I figure there's no better motivation to lose weight than to pull on elastic waisted jeans everyday.

Checking In!

Weeks Post Partum: 7 Weeks!

Total weight gain/loss: Only those first 20 pounds. But I have recently started back to the gym, so hopefully that will change soon. Kevin wasn't exactly thrilled when I made the decision to go back. Most likely because I made my announcement in the wee hours of the morning. He awoke to me poking him and whispering that I was going to the gym and he needed to watch Junior. In my defense, Grey was still sleeping so it wasn't THAT much work. I did have to defend my position later and point out to him that if I didn't lose the weight by the time I returned to work, I would be spending at least $500 on new work clothes, which would be a total waste of money since I will only be wearing them a few weeks tops. After all, those last 14 pounds are going to melt off like butter in July.
Maternity Clothes: I'm rotating on two pairs of jeans. I am back to my normal shirts even though they could stand to be a little bit longer for when my jeans fall down. Luckily at this point in my life my wardrobe only needs to consist of jeans and t-shirts so I'm hanging in there for now.
Sleep: Me? Not so much. But Junior is doing pretty well. For the first few weeks he was up every 3 hours like clock work. Now he's going longer stretches. Usually 4 or 5, maybe 6 hours at a time. Unless Kevin is gone and I have to get up with the baby by myself. Then he inevitably reverts back to every 3 hours.
Best moment this week: Spending time with my Mommy's Group. Not that we do much besides talk about our babies, but at least I'm not doing it by myself while I'm home alone all day anymore. I was starting to worry myself.
Worst moment this week: Christmas shopping. The traffic and stores have been a mess lately. I had originally planned to get all of my Christmas shopping done early this year since I was going to have so much free time to do it. Let's talk about how that's been going for me.
Food cravings: Can I keep this one on the list even though I'm not pregnant? I can honestly say that for the first time in my life, I'm not craving pizza. After eating it 3 times in the last week (not even counting the leftovers) I'm officially making time to plan a menu and cook this week. In all my free time.
What I miss: Being able to quickly pop into a store for a necessity (or a Christmas present) since I have to haul a car seat along each time I leave the vehicle. And speaking of car seats, I'd say a close second would be being able to drive more than 5 miles at a time without replacing the pacifier....
What I am looking forward to: Going to Michigan for a belated Christmas and NYE visit! Notice I said going to Michigan. Not actually getting there. I have a feeling that getting there with an infant in tow is going to be more than an adventure.
Milestones: Greyden is finally growing! As of this past weekend, he's officially out of the newborn sized clothes and into the 0-3 month sizes. Yes, at 7 weeks. I have no idea where this little peanut came from.

Feed Me!

I love to cook. Cooking is my version of a glass of wine and a bubble bath for stress relief. But cooking with an infant is not my cup of tea. Most likely because I haven't mastered the art yet. Nor have I put much effort into trying to learn. Because even I'm not dumb enough to try to stand over a stove while holding an infant. I'm a hazard to myself, no need to involve a helpless child. Besides, all I have to do is even consider cooking dinner and Greyden gets fussy. Probably because he'd rather go to Buffalo Wild Wings with Daddy instead. So with my luck, I'd end up halfway through and he'd decide that it was time to freak out and I'd never get back to it. (I'm picturing the fire department having some involvement here.)

What really gets me is that I shouldn't have to worry about cooking right now. Remember that pre-baby to-do list that I posted about while I was still pregnant? One of the things on that list was to make up a whole bunch of freezer meals. My plan was to have the meals all assembled and in freezer to oven bakeware so that all we'd have to do is pop one out of the freezer and into the oven for dinner, my reasoning being that I wouldn't have any free time to cook dinner every day while caring for a newborn. Of course being me, I was stressing over how much I had to make and how I had ZERO time to do it. (Ha! Had I only known then what I know now. I can't even figure out what I used to do with all my free time back then). Kevin comforted me by telling me that I would be home all day and I'd have a LOT more free time than I thought I would. (Blind leading the sightless anyone?) Then comes baby. And for once Kevin turns out to be right. I do have a lot of free time. Unfortunately that free time comes with the slight catch of having a baby on my boob arm 24/7. Not exactly condusive to hanging out over a hot stovetop, huh?

And not only did I mess up by not making my freezer meals, insult has been added to injury. One of my friends on Facebook recently had her baby. Last week her status update said that she was so thankful for everyone who had brought them freezer meals when the baby came. She then went on to say that she wasn't going to have to worry about cooking dinner for an entire month. HOLD THE PHONE! Where do I find these Freezer Meal People??? I seriously messed up in my pre-baby planning. Instead of putting "make freezer meals" on MY to-do list, I should have put it on everyone else's to-do list. This stupid pregnancy brain obviously has me not thinking clearly enough! (Oh, all right. I accept. You can all feel free to send food now! Heeheehee.....)

I have managed to do a little bit of cooking since Greyden arrived. I've cooked dinner maybe twice each week, but only when my back-up was home from work. And it really helped that Thanksgiving came when it did, because at the conclusion of the Shagene Thanksgiving Invasion Kevin and I had leftovers for the entire next week. (That's one of the benefits of having people drive in from Michigan. They can't steal my leftovers.) Of course after Kevin and I had eaten "Thanksgiving Dinner," for the fifth day in a row, I would have paid them to come back and take the rest home with them. The thought of turkey still makes my skin crawl.

Of course if you think I'm hungry, you should see Greyden. You would think that the world was ending when he's ready to eat. His normal schedule is sleep, then wake up, get changed, and eat, hang out for awhile, then go back to bed. Then repeat. And repeat again. And again. Again... Anyway, he woke up from a nap a couple of weeks ago ready to eat as usual. I remember being impressed because he had went for three and a half hours since his last feeding instead of his normal 2.5 to 3. I had him on the changing table where he was fussing up a storm and looking like a goldfish trying to find my boob, so I put my face down by his to talk to him and calm him down. Next thing I know, he gets this crazy look in his eyes, grabs two fistfuls of my hair, and starts shaking his head back and forth while pulling my face toward his like a crazy person. I swear, he looked possessed as he tried to eat my nose. Needless to say, after that little incident we don't mess around with pleasantries. He's up, changed (preferrably by Kevin who doesn't have long hair), and latched on to mom before you can bat an eye. In an effort to gain some sympathy, I told my family about that incident and Grey's desperate need for food the second he gets hungry. I mean, look what I have to deal with everyday people! All I got in return were a bunch of "I wonder where he gets that from" looks. What...he doesn't get it from me.

1 MONTH!

Greyden is one month old today! Wow, how the time flies. It seems like I just had him a week ago! Of course that could be because I've only gotten the equivalent of a weeks sleep since I had him. Yet, people are always telling me what a good sleeper he is. I don't know about good, but he's nothing if not consistent. He's eating every 2.5 - 3 hours through the day and waking up to eat every 3 - 4 hours at night. We've had a few nights where he went 5 hours and one where he went 6. I'll take what I can get at this point!

Birth: 6 lbs, 3 oz, 18.5 inches
Leaving hospital: 5 lbs, 14 oz
1 week: 6 lbs, 3 oz, 20.25 inches
1 month: 8 lbs, 2 oz, 20.5 inches

Even at a month he's still a little thing! I'm hoping he'll eventually get into the 0-3 month clothes. Right now, we're still hanging out in the newborn section.

I had a really cute little outfit on him, but of course that ended up in the dirty clothes hamper within an hour of putting it on him. So his 1 month pictures are in a boring onesie. Oh well.






You talkin' to me?

Seriously mom? Another picture?:

Giant Sneeze!

Apparently our photo shoot went a little too long, because he eventually started tipping over: