It's a big world out there!

Yesterday we headed north to Plevna, Indiana to visit our Gramma Sandy. What a day! We had family in from Kentucky and Anderson and shared a lovely time catching up and watching children play. Cousin Leslie in from Kentucky brought her fiance and his two boys to meet the family, and see Plevna. It's the greatest vacation spot in the world, you know! The boys had a blast riding on the mule, filling propane tanks and meeting up with Papaw Steve to catch a ride on the tractor. See, Plevna is boy mecca! While Gideon couldn't participate in all the fun, we did have a bit of it taking his picture on the big, big tractor. Apparently in the Winger family, taking a kid's picture in the tire of a tractor is tradition. We have arrived! I sat looking at Taylor and Ethan (Leslie & Billy's 2 rambunctious boys) and tried fathoming Gideon at that age (5 and 7 respectively). So much energy! As Taylor ran from outside to in, wrestling his dad, playing basketball, I chuckled. Cute kid. I watched as he eagerly climbed into the tractor and I'm sure asked about a million questions. Patient Papaw probably answered each one. He's a pro at this- taking kids on the tractor, telling the farm story. He's a great Papaw. He even took me, and answered all my questions a couple of years back! I watched as Ethan sat trying to be sullen. Trying to be older. Still broke out into boyishness with his brother when he thought we weren't looking. I cannot wait until Gideon is up walking and learning and growing! How neat it will be to watch him devour his world like these boys- so curious, so full of life! I don't wish my baby gone for a minute, but I can dream of when he's a boy and I can wonder who he'll be. What wonderful places and experiences will shape his world. Will he have a love for Plevna too? Probably. Sandy's pretty darn awesome, but there is a lot to do up there for a boy. Tools, farms, mud all await. Will I hear stories after he gets off of Papaw's tractor of exactly what goes into making a good ear of corn? Will he tell me all about his ride? Will he one day actually fit into that tractor tire? Wow. All these days are going to be so exciting, and I fear looming right around the corner.

And then we went to dinner (Marty's- a Plevna tradition!) and I saw the sweetest little baby, maybe a few weeks old. She was darling! No bigger than a minute. My how quickly time does pass. 6 months and Gideon at that size is already a distant memory. I smiled at the new mom. We are in the trenches together, she and I. I'm sure she went home thinking what it will be like when her little princess is as big as our bruiser. That's how it goes I guess. Always looking for what comes next. My solace? I'll get up less tonight than she will. And Leslie and Billy? Probably thinking they'll actually get to sleep in! HA!

Come out, come out wherever you are!

We've been pretty much in hiding since bringing our bundle home in early October. Sure, we've had the occasional trip to church, or the grocery, or Target to meet Carly, but pretty much, we've been sequestered in the house for 5 looonnnnggg months. With March quickly coming to a close, we're about to reach a big milestone for us. April. The month where it magically becomes ok to treat Gideon like a real live human and let him out of his cage and roam free. Well, pretty much. Apparently mid-April is when the dreaded RSV monster goes into hiding for another year and all the good little boys are allowed out to play. So with that date rapidly approaching, and our calendar rapidly filling up with outside plans, I find myself getting a little panicky. I mean, for 6 months I've lived, breathed and worried about my little preemie and his exposure to the outside world, or lack thereof. I have carried him with me with a sign on his car seat that says "please wash your hands before touching mine" which loosely translates to "stay the heck away from my baby!". I have been double-fisted with the hand sanitizer and baby wiped everything Gideon looked at. Paranoid mom? You bet! But, I am a rule follower, and follow the rules I did. So now, just like that, I am to treat him like a normal baby. Gotta admit, I'm having a bit of trouble. Working on it, but still, it's so hard to let go. I know that this is a first in a long line of letting go, but I'm not ready. What's next? Walking? School? Borrowing the car? The doctor at his last appointment suggested we start using a sippy cup. It made me cry. Where is my little baby going? I'm trying so hard to memorize every last baby detail so that when he's a big boy, I'll have my memories. And I'm trying very hard to be a big girl myself and let him grow up, even if it means at this point, just letting him touch things. Boy, this growing stuff really is hard! I think we'll head outside today to sit on a blanket and watch the world go by. I know April is fast approaching, so are teeth, being able to sit up, baseball practice and girls. But for today, my boy and I will hide away from the world. Just for a while longer. After all, it is still March.

While I do dishes

While I do dishes, I listen to your dad talk to you. Mostly silly. I hear him make silly noises, blow raspberries on your cheek. I hear you squeal. You egg him on. While I do dishes, I hear your dad tell you about his day, and intently ask about yours. He fills in the gaps of what he thinks you've done, praising you for rolling over, for helping momma with the laundry, for seeing a squirrel. While I do dishes, sometimes dad bathes you. I hear water, splashing, more giggles and a hearty chuckle from your dad. He calls you a fish, you swim all over the tub. I hear a play by play of what he's doing, and how you're enjoying it. It is a wonderful glimpse into "man world" that has taken over my house. I hear him tell you about all the things you'll get to do as you get older, how you'll be best friends with your dad, how you'll find frogs, chase fireflies and camp out. I hear how your dad will teach you everything you need to know, from opening the door for momma to changing the brake pads on an old Ford truck. All while I quietly listen from my kitchen. How I love doing dishes! It is like I am a fly on the wall, an insider to all the secrets. I hope it will always be like this. The laughter, the giggles, the mess, the "boyness" of it all. I cherish watching my husband become a father, and I am so blessed to give my son such a wonderful role model. The dishes now done, the towel on the counter. Hands slightly pruny, I head for the back. I can hear Noah's low voice telling Gideon "no he cannot stay up late to watch tv", chiding him, joking, loving, giggling. I can't wait to join my boys!

Luck O' the Irish!

Last night the O'Reillys headed north to visit our good friends the Winters. Emma and Gideon are so cute together, it's ridiculous, and their other two kiddos, Kieran and Caitlin, are just super darling! We had a wonderful night listening to horrible Irish music and drinking not horrible Irish beer. Check out the pictures, how cute are our kids?

An apple a day!

Gideon had his 6 month check up yesterday, and did famously! Dr. Rob (don't even get me started- he wears sandals and socks!) pronounced him wonderfully healthy. Here are the stats for all the grandmas out there- 15.25 pounds, 26 inches long, gigantic head and all muscle! The nurse had to measure him twice because he'd grown so much since the last appointment, she didn't think it was right. Yup, our young man is growing like a weed! The doctor didn't hear a heart murmur again this time,which makes 2 visits and no murmur- praise God! He's also developing wonderfully, somewhere in between a 4 month old and a 6 month old. God has blessed us with a happy, healthy little man! And dad's happy because the doctor gave the ok to start meats here in a few weeks as soon as we get through our veggies. I tried to tell Noah this meant baby food meats, but he's dead set on grilling a burger for Gideon! Goodness!

And oh yes, happy St. Patrick's day! We're headed to our friends Micah and Carly's tonight for a get together. They met on this day 10 years ago, how sweet is that? Gideon is hoping Emma doesn't wear green so he can pinch her! Pictures to follow I'm sure!

Hot date

Last night Carly and I went out. Clubbing? Bar hopping? Nope, bargain shopping! We loaded into her new mini van and headed to grab a coffee and hit a children's consignment sale. We talked of mortgages, the economic crisis, why we hate Obama. We talked of growing kids, silly husbands and the fact that we cannot find a pair of jeans that fit right. She admitted to listening to talk radio, and liking it. I agreed with her. We laughed at the thought that Bernacke thinks we'll be out of this recession by next year. As we shopped intently for bargains, not wanting to pay more than something was worth, it dawned on us that we are old! What on earth happened to us? Seems like just yesterday we were telling fibs to our parents about where we were going and getting into all sorts of trouble. I remember thinking those cars that make all that noise at intersections were cool. Now I'm afraid they'll wake my baby. Kids with saggy pants make me want to scream. We go out now and discuss the economy and tips for saving money. I have become something I never thought I would be. A PARENT. Freaky. I am in love with Carly's mini van, and am seriously thinking I need one (so much space, so much storage, so easy to hoss babies into!) Wow. Never saw that coming! As we shopped for various kid items, without a pair of shoes or cute purse in sight, it really started to sink in that old, selfish Sarah is on the back burner now, and new mom Sarah is here to stay. And while I'll miss her, with her matching shoes for any outfit and perfectly curled hair, this new Sarah, without makeup and hair in a pony (Gideon likes to pull it) is pretty darn neat too. I can catch a falling pacifier at 60 paces and spot spit up coming a mile away. I can also make pig noises and silly faces in public without even thinking about anyone's perception of me. I can make tears disappear with one look, and am someone's entire world. I am mom. Hear me roar!

Although a pair of jeans that fit would be really nice!

Happy Birthday to... US!!

That's right! Today is Gideon's big day. Well, ok, not the big day, but it is his 6 month birthday. I can hardly believe he's 6 months already. Some wise woman told me that it would fly by. She wasn't kidding. It seems like this little critter just joined us last week, he's still so new and his dad and I still fight over who gets to hold him, yet in the same respect, I am slowly not remembering life when he wasn't here (or when I was in single digit sizes, sigh) So happy 6 month birthday Gideon. And do momma a favor and stop growing so darn fast!

Gideon shares his special month with lots of other birthdays we're celebrating! Our Gramma Sandy had a birthday on Sunday, our Grandma Deb has a birthday today, and our Grandma Susan will be celebrating one tomorrow! Happy birthday to all our wonderful grandmas! This time last year we took them all out to dinner under the assumption we were celebrating birthdays. Little did they know we'd be announcing Gideon! No body get any ideas, ain't no one pregnant this year! Hehe...

Clean up on aisle 2!

The other day Gideon threw up on me. 5 times. Between the two of us, we made an entire 2 loads of laundry! This was before 5 pm. What can I say? My kid likes to puke. What gets me is that while being thrown up on isn't the most pleasant experience, it doesn't really bother me. If you knew me BG (before Gideon) you'd know that I was rather anal about cleanliness, and that's putting it mildly. I have to shower before going to bed, and I can't walk around without socks on in the house. Freaks me out. I used to have an all inclusive pass in elementary school to wash my hands as many times as I needed to. It was part of my OCD, and some days it was about 30 plus times a day. No joke. So, the fact that someone can actually throw up on me and not send me into a panic is really quite good! I think I am changing. Calming down. I am proud of me! A little puke ain't no big thang now. Wow!! And that's good because puking is right up there with crying and upside down kisses on the list of things Gideon loves to do. It wouldn't be bad if it came with a little bit of warning, like "hey mom, getting ready to spit, watch out!", but no. No warning. I could have a completely happy kid who hasn't eaten for hours giggling, wiggling and being generally awesome and bam- we're both covered in spit. Thanks buddy. It's not reflux, it's not an issue, it's just spit. Apparently some babies like to do this. A lot. Count my guy in. I've started telling people that if he spits on you, he's just showing you he likes you. He's a very social guy! I hear that it mostly goes away around 1 year of age. Counting down the minutes until I can let my guard down a bit. Until then, I wait, I know it's coming. Any minute now...

Sarah, Jr?

Fact, Gideon looks like his dad. Dead on like his dad. Creepily like his dad. Ok, I can deal with that. Do I get a little sick of hearing it? At times, but mostly not. I prayed for a little Noah. I think my husband is the best man on this planet. How could I not want a son as equally wonderful as him? But, what I love so much are those special moments where I see me in Gideon. Not so much in his looks, but his behavior. Ok, easy shot here- temper tantrums, fits, ha ha. No, his real behavior. The real him starting to emerge. I've known for a while that the boy has my weird toe and a knack for using the eye brow at just the right time (ala Grandma Jackson) but I am starting to see more and more of me in my child. Scary thought, but also so cool. And humbling. Why do I hear my mother chuckling right now? So, because Gideon is starting to show signs that I may indeed just very well be his mother, I shouldn't be surprised to see he's starting his love affair with the blanket early. Ah the blanket! Not a woobie, not a binkey, not a nub nub or whatever you call it, a blanket. I had one and carried that sucker around until I was entirely too old and I ain't fessing up when that was. What I love is that I was never monogamous with my blanket. I was a "right time, right fabric" sort of girl. I used whatever was laying around. I even resorted to a kitchen towel at times. This worked well. Mom never had to deal with wrestling a nasty blanket away from me and I always had a drawer full of comforts when I needed them. Seems young Gideon may very well be on the blanket path. For weeks now I've noticed he soothes himself to sleep by rubbing on his blanket. Now I notice him paying special attention to his spit up cloths and keeping those handy as well. Seems we might have a budding relationship on our hands. How cute is that? Oh, and the fingers in his mouth? That's all me! I sucked them until my nose was crooked! Take that gene pool! I am in there somewhere!

Ole!

So we're testing out new foods slowly as Gideon gets bigger. Noah seems to think life doesn't begin at conception so much as it begins at steak. Silly man. Well, the other night we were going all out and making guacamole to go with our chicken posole and decided to give Gideon a taste of the guac. If you know us, you know that guac is a favorite in our house. I once went on a week long bender and ate only guacamole. Yum! Considering I was pregnant at the time, I was sure Gideon shared my love of the green stuff. Well, apparently not! Check out the face of the man trying his first taste of a mashed up avocado! Yum, indeed!

On the night you were born

Last night I read you "On the night you were born", a marvelous gift from your Uncle Buck and Mary. It came with a tie-dye onesie, you're gonna love them! While you were fresh from the bath, smelling like Johnson & Johnson's, cuddly in your footie pajamas and rubbing your eyes trying to stay awake, you rested in dad's arms and I read you a story. As you drifted off to sleep no doubt dreaming of what all those animals did on the night you were born, I couldn't help but think about it too. On the night you were born, there was so much going on! You were early, very early. You must get that from Grandma because neither dad or I are ever early. For anything! I am so thankful that dad made me go to the hospital that night, I didn't want to. Figured I'd just inconvenience everyone and they'd send me packing. Silly first time mom. You don't know what you're doing. But they didn't, and before we knew it, they were talking about drugs to stop labor and the consequences of you coming this early. It all seemed so unreal, even then. I am so glad that we didn't know then what we know now. We'd have been terrified. We arrived at the hospital at 11 pm. You were born at 3:01 am. All 4 pounds and 3 ounces of you. Dad was terrified you weren't going to be big enough. He was shocked at how big you were. I was terrified you weren't going to be strong enough. You proved me wrong immediately. As the doctors wheeled you up to the NICU and I waited to hear from dad how things were going, my mind raced as to what I did to cause this. The guilt was tremendous. Maybe I did too much? Maybe I should have rested more. I needed to place the blame on someone, anyone. I chose myself. For 3 hours I didn't know how you were doing. Honestly, I wondered if you'd gone on home to our Father during that time. At 6 o'clock, someone finally took me up to meet the newest member of the O'Reilly family. You were so tiny! Your entire arm covered with an IV and a bandage. Probes on you chest and foot. A CPAP breathing tube surrounding your entire face. You were no bigger than your father's hand. And while you lay there with monitors beeping and machines whirling, you were held in our Father's hand. I know that's why you were ok. I remember holding you for the first time, with all your cords and wires. I was so terrified of breaking you. They handed you to me and you felt like nothing! Like the blanket you were wrapped in was empty. You were so light. I remember looking at you with such wonder. You were perfect in every way, just a little on the tiny side. Our nurse Sharon took your CPAP off that day so we could snap your picture. I had so wanted to see your face so we could name you. At that moment, you stopped being Magnus and became Gideon Timothy Patrick! The days became a blur of keeping a constant vigil in the NICU and returning to my room in maternity to be poked and prodded, while watching them wheel rosie-cheeked, chubby infants to their mother's awaiting arms. Bitterness set in. Anger. Despair. Why couldn't we hold you? Why couldn't family come visit my room so Noah could show you off proudly to grandparents, aunts and uncles. It was such a dark time. I couldn't pray. God had betrayed me. But something happened during one of those dark nights. I cannot explain it. Just as your father will one day chastise you, my Father gently reminded me that He is still in control and has not left your side. Bitterness melted into a feeling of being so humble. So dependent. So scared. I begged God to keep you safe. To make you whole. I am so forever grateful He chose to answer that prayer.

The day I was released from the hospital was the hardest day of my life. To walk out of that building without you broke my heart. When I got home, I cried. I cried for you, for me, for the entire situation. For the loss of a young girl's dream of entering into motherhood like millions of other woman do. With a smile on their face, a chubby baby in their arms and appreciative family waiting in the lobby. So much of my dream gone. But now I had a new dream. The dream of walking into that hospital and learning that you'd be coming home that day. I held on to that dream for 4 weeks through nasty nurses, pulled out IV's, feeding setbacks and fights with doctors. Through milestones such as your first nursing session, your pulled out feeding tube not having to be put back in, and nurses who cared just as much as we did.

You came home on a Monday. It was one of those days where you ought to be chilly, but you're not? The kind that only early fall brings. October 6th. It was just like any other day. Dad had gone to work, I had headed to the hospital with the hopes of getting started on thank you notes from my baby shower I'd had the previous weekend. No warning as to your release until they told me to bring the car around and sign the release form. Such a scramble to call dad, find the car seat base, and bring home all your hospital mementos. What a blessing it was to be done with it all. Little did we know, it was just the beginning.

When I look at you now. All 15 plus pounds of you. Chubby, giggly, sweet little boy with blue eyes only for mommy, I feel so very blessed to have gone through all of this with you. Having known you for this brief time has made me a better person, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. We are partners in crime, you and me. We share something so many people will never have. I love you for that. As you nap quietly in your room while I make your lunch, I chuckle at the normalcy of it all. Just another Monday. Laundry to do, games to play, diapers to change. This lull of normal that has become such common place in my life, that was once so craved when we lived at the hospital. God has been good to our mighty warrior. He has made him strong and healthy. And his mom? Well, He has made her all the more thankful for a regular day filled with regular challenges.