Restore, Rebuild, ReNew Orleans

I struggled with the title of this post as well as the words for this piece.  So many emotions flood my mind as I revisit the devastation of Hurricane Katrina with images from five years ago resurfacing.  I considered naming this piece When the Levees Broke, based on the Spike Lee Documentary.

 

 

However, New Orleans’ creed, Restore, Rebuild, ReNew Orleans seemed more fitting to me as it captures the spirit its people and city.

 

 

Two years ago, Allan and I were fortunate enough to win a trip to New Orleans.  Three years after Katrina, the French Quarter showed little evidence that category five hurricane had ever been through there, but the memory of Katrina’s attack on the city still resonated with its residents.

 

As Allan and I did our own damage soaking up every delicious morsel of Cajun cuisine, the shopkeepers and restaurant owners thanked us for visiting, a small reminder that this great city still struggled to revive itself years later after the storm.

 

As a condition of this trip, Allan was required to build picnic benches for some local schools.  The project coordinator led them through the Lower 9th District so the participants could see the damage left behind by Katrina and in turn, understand the significance of their contribution.  Building a few picnic tables seemed hardly enough, like a drop in the bucket to a neighborhood that still was drowning in rubble.

 

Once Allan completed hammering out the picnic tables, we pounded down some Po’ Boys and played like true tourists in this romantic, historical city.  With each step on the cobblestone, NOLA charmed us and stole our hearts as she had done to so many others before us.

 

 

Five years later as NOLA still recovers from Katrina and now even more damage from the Gulf oil spill, it saddens me to see such any amazing city suffer again.   But the people of New Orleans have seen devastation and hard times before.  They will use music to lift their spirits and tell their story and to remind all of us to preserve our precious NOLA, her resources and her people.

 

 

Restore

Rebuild

ReNew Orleans

School Daze

Last Monday, we began the back to school grind.  Although the girls were excited to start the school year, I wasn’t ready to let them go.

 

 

Every August,  I always suffer with more anxiety and butterflies about the start of a new school year than my girls do.  Will Emmalynn behave?  Will Allana be challenged? But this year, I had even more mama guilt than usual because I felt I didn’t spend as much time with them as I should have.  Our last few weeks together had been pretty uneventful due to a never ending nursing schedule with a newborn.

 

My youngest daughter, who was once referred to as my baby before the arrival of our newest baby, entered kindergarten.  To prepare for the big day, we had countless conversations this summer about how kindergarteners behave.  Kindergarteners don’t pee their pants.  Big girls need to be responsible for their belongings.  Kindergartners need to know how to write their name.

 

 

Emmalynn has never been one to give a full account of her days at school and what she does remember always seemed so random.  Therefore, I learned to rely on notes from her teachers or other moms to share information or stories about what goes on in the classroom.  When I picked her up after her first day, Emmalynn reported that she did not get a lollipop and the details behind that situation are still uncertain.  However, she happily reported, “Mommy, Kindergartners do not have rest time.”

 

 

Allana enters third grade this year and she now faces FCAT (Florida’s standardized test – Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test) every academic year.  Over the summer, shifts and changes occurred at her school with the staff, including the principal which caused me to worry about her placement, because Allana needs a teacher who will challenge her.

 

 

Allana hoped for a teacher who was warm and friendly as well as challenging, but mostly she hoped that her best friend, Nikki, was in her class.  So far thankfully, everything seemed to work-out just as we hoped.

 

 

Even Emmalynn seemed off to a good start.  She may not have been given a lollipop, but a happy face, a sticker, a pencil and a new book made for a fabulous first day.

 

 

Until the next day, she “washed” her hair with hand sanitizer and by Friday, she lost her new glasses.  *sigh*  Looks like we need another conversation on responsibility and how kindergarteners don’t wash their hair at school.

 

In the end, the girls we survived the first few days daze of school and thankfully, it was a successful one.

 

 

*Proudly submitted at GMYBS, Photo Story Friday and Finer Things Friday.*

The Gun Show

My daughters always roll with laughter whenever they hear me say the following narrative to these photos.

 

“Hey Baby! Check out the gun show going on over here.

 

BOOM!

 

 

BOOM!

 

 

Firepower!”
-The Thinker, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian

 

Stay tuned for more beautiful baby pictures of Liam taken by the talented, Kelly Noel minus my corny childish comments. Well I can’t guarantee that, but the baby pictures are certainly beautiful!

 

Postpartum Countdown

I have two weeks until my postpartum visit with my OB.  When she visited me in the hospital, she advised me to take it easy. (This is the same doctor that advised me NOT to run the marathon pregnant.)

 

Can I do some yoga?

 

No.  You may unknowingly rip or pull something.  Give your body a chance to heal.

 

Can I walk?

 

I would not attempt anything until your postpartum check-up.

 

Then, Allan chimed in and asked “Bottom line, Doctor. When can she run again?  That’s the real question.”  (He knows me so well. :-) )

 

“I would wait at least 4 weeks before you run again and even then I would ease into it”, my doctor advised me.

 

This week, I hit the 4 week mark and I’m feeling closer to my old self again, except for the hamstring and pelvic muscles I pulled during the birth and honestly, I find that to be the most bizarre occurrence.  In three years of running (2 marathons, 3 triathlons and 4 half marathons), I’ve never pulled a hamstring muscle, but squeezing out an 8 lb, 10 oz  baby caused all kinds of muscle strain.  And just for the record, running a marathon is WAY easier than giving birth.

 

Today as I roll into the 4 week mark, I feel like walking to celebrate.  Unfortunately, it’s raining buckets here, so I’ll have to put off walking for one more day.  *sigh*

 

But truthfully, I’m really looking forward to running again after my postpartum visit in two weeks.  WOOHOO!

Musical Monday: Loverboy

One month ago I fell in love the moment I laid my eyes on little Liam for the first time.

 

 

Liam’s sisters had a similar reaction…

 

 

and constantly smothered their little brother with kisses. (They still do.)

 

 

Allana often says, “Liam is made of sugar, because he is so sweet.”

 

 

I may be bias, but I tend to agree with her.

 

 

But then I am so in love with this little man of mine that I call him Loverboy and I affectionately sing this melody from Love is Strange to Liam.

Baby,
Oohh baby
My sweet baby
You’re the one.

 

A mother’s (and sisters’) love is pretty strange special, just like our little Loverboy.

 

 

 

***Note: These newborn photos were taken by my fabulous photographer friend, Kelly Noel.***

Clones

There’s no disputing who these babies belong to because my husband has some very strong genes.

 

 

Collectively, I carried my babies for 120 weeks and endured 9 hours of labor but not even ONE baby remotely resembles me.

 

Allana Rose, 1 day old

 

Emmalynn Jaime, 1 day old

 

Liam Mathew, 1 day old

 

Emmalynn, 2 months old

 

Liam, 4 days old

 

These are the Days

This is my last full week of summer vacation with my girls and just like the years, this week will fly by.  I wish I could just freeze time and keep them small, young and innocent.

 

Allana will be nine this November and we’re on the edge of a whole prepubescent world that I’m not ready for just yet.  I dread conversations of bras and menstrual cycles and then there’s the bird and the bees talk down the road too.  Just thinking about it causes me to hyperventilate.

 

 

Emmalynn starts kindergarten next Monday and I’m filled with mama guilt over my little middle child.  I feel I didn’t dedicate as much time with her like I did when Allana was her age.  Lord, I hope she remembers how to spell her name.  Well, I hope she can at least make an ‘e’.  She should be all right if her teacher lets her write on the wall.

 

 

But the mama guilt never ends.  Did I do enough with the girls this summer?  Have their brains turned to mush?  Do they know I love them?  Do they know I am so proud of the beautiful ladies they are becoming?

 

I am just so grateful for every moment I spent with them this summer, even if most of it was watching television.  Lord knows, we killed a lot of brain cells in the past few weeks due to my pregnancy and a demanding newborn breastfeeding schedule.

 

So as a summer slows to an end, my heart begins to ache.  One more week with my girls.  I can enjoy their company for one more week before we return to the hustle and bustle of our regular school routine.

 

These are days to remember.

 

 

One Hip Baby

Before Liam could be discharged from the hospital, he had to endure a final examination by the pediatrician on call.  During that exam, the doctor heard a “clunking” sound in his hip and ordered an ultrasound.  The ultrasound confirmed a shallow socket and we were referred to an orthopedic doctor.

 

A few days later, we met with an orthopedic doctor who diagnosed Liam with Hip Dysplasia.  To correct his shallow hip and prevent any further damage, the doctor advised Liam to wear a harness for 3 months.  For the first 6 weeks, Liam would have to wear the harness 23 hours a day.  Then, for the remaining 6 weeks, he would only need to wear the harness for 12 hours a day.

 

Before I saw the harness, I had visions of a little Liam running in braces like Forrest Gump and then I envisioned a large plastic diaper apparatus screwed together with huge bolts.

 

A million questions filled my head.  Would he walk normally?  Will the harness hinder his ability to develop normally?  Will he reach his milestones like rolling over, crawling and walking in an appropriate timeframe? Can he play sports?  Will he be able to run?  Will he be a NFL star?

 

The doctor eased my concerns by promising us that the harness would correct his hip and Liam would develop normally, but he couldn’t guarantee Liam becoming an NFL star.  He also stated that the harness typically upsets parents more than it upsets the infants.

 

During our consult, we also learned that Liam has to remain in a straddled, frog-like position.  This means I can’t wear him in any sort of sling.  He also cannot be left in his car seat for long periods of time, so long road trips or leaving him in his infant car seat for naps are out of the question.   He also cannot sit in his swing, because the swing would constrict his hips.

 

The first few days in the harness were a bit challenging.  I have to hold him a lot since most everything would constrict his hips, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I get to spoil him and he’s definitely giving my arms a work-out.  Also, changing Liam’s diapers were a bit tricky at first, but we got the hang of it.  We only remove the harness to change his Onesies.

 

As for Liam, I think he enjoys looking like a sky diver.

 

PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

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World Breastfeeding Week

August 1-7 marks World Breastfeeding Week and I thought I would take the opportunity to share my own breastfeeding story.

 

With the recent birth of my son, I have bounced back into the world of breastfeeding.  Some women love breastfeeding, but I have always thought of breastfeeding as a chore, like the laundry.  It’s just something you need to do because it has to be done.

 

With my firstborn, I nursed her for 3 years.  Honestly, I never thought I would make it past 6 months.  I remember feeling trapped in a chair for an hour while I nursed her and I resented it.  I resented the on-demand feeding cycle I had become trapped in.  Even though I understood the health benefits and the bonding that would develop from breastfeeding, I still became very depressed.  I also remember taking it one day at a time. If I can just make it to 6 months.  If I can just make it to a year.

 

 

As Allana grew older and solid foods entered the scene, breastfeeding seemed less of a chore, however, at 18 months, she still nursed twice in the middle of the night.  Around that same time, my husband lost his job and I decided to seize the moment as a chance to wean my toddler from her middle of the night feedings.  I believe that was the first time Dad actually understood how frustrating it can be trying to function on very little sleep due to nursings.

 

I always thought I would stop breastfeeding by the time my daughter could talk, but at three years old, Allana still nursed 3 times a day: early morning, naptime and bedtime.  Basically, I was her pacifier and  her security blankie.  Nonetheless I embraced these comfort nursings as an opportunity to reflect and talk about the events of our day together.

 

When Allana was three, Allan and I decided to have another baby and I felt it was a good time to slowly wean her off the breast.  I eliminated the bedtime nursings first.  I delegated bedtime routine to Allan to help transition Allana off the breast and to begin preparing for the arrival of a new baby brother or sister.  If I was feeding a newborn, I would be unable to nurse Allana.  The plan worked beautifully.

 

When I became pregnant with baby #2, I decided to stop nursing Allana cold turkey, even though we were only down to two nursings a day: early morning and naptime.  I explained to her that mommy had a baby growing in her belly and if she still drank “mommy milk” it could hurt the baby, because the baby needed the nutrients to grow inside mommy.  My little Allana seemed to except that idea.

 

After nursing Allana for 3 years, I thought I was a breastfeeding pro.  When Emmalynn was born, I felt confident with my lactating ability.  However, Mother Nature and my baby’s personality threw me a curveball and I struggled nursing with her.  Emmalynn was not a proficient nurser, like Allana.  The hour I spent in a chair nursing Allana as an infant proved that she was patient and knew how to work the breast to get the hindmilk.  Emmalynn was the opposite.  She latched poorly but even when she latched properly, she nursed for less than ten minutes on each breast and never drank the hindmilk.  However, it wasn’t until her 4 month wellness visit and I began pumping that I realized what was occurring.

 

From two months to four months of age, Emmalynn only gained half a pound.  She was labeled “failure to thrive” and our pediatrician ordered me to start supplementing with formula.  He advised me to keep breastfeeding and pumping, but Emmalynn needed regular bottle feedings.  However, once the bottle of formula was introduced, little Emmalynn wanted nothing to my breastmilk.  I continued to offer her the breast for night feedings, but eventually she refused that too. Whereas constantly breastfeeding once depressed me, ironically I felt sad that now my breastfeeding days were short lived with Emmalynn.

 

Since I have always followed the “demand feeding” schedule, I never had any breastmilk stored.  Now, I found myself pumping continuously.  As I pumped, I learned a little about my milk production.  I only made 4 ounces between the two breasts and I had a slow letdown.  Plus, I realized that it took 20 minutes for the hindmilk to come.

 

When I delivered baby #3, I learned that Liam has acid reflux; therefore, the hospital staff recommended little feedings.  Since little feedings seems to be my natural lactating style, things may work out wonderfully.  *Fingers-crossed*

 

With the arrival of baby #3, I feel less like a breastfeeding pro, but a bit more knowledgeable.  So far, it seems that Liam latches beautifully and he nurses very similar to Allana, which also means if I want to breastfeed my baby, I have to commit to an hour feedings once again and taking it one day at a time again.  However these days, it feels less like laundry but more like cooking dinner.  It’s just something I need to do to sustain a happy, healthy baby.