Payback

Ok, so I knew going into this whole pregnancy/baby thing there'd be sacrifices. I knew sleep would be one of them. What I didn't know was that I'd never get to sleep again! Ever!! From about 6 weeks pregnant I started not sleeping. Some nights it was worry over what was to come, others it was just up and down to go to the bathroom, but each and every night had me up at some point. Then came our little miracle and there went any hope of ever sleeping again. Silly me thought that around 5 months or so, babies started sleeping through the night. The whole night. Don't get me wrong, Gideon's a great little sleeper. Always has been. But, 99% of the time he's up for something at least once during the middle of the night. Usually just a pacifier will do, but there are nights it seems he's up all night long just waiting for me to fall asleep so he can wake me up. Seriously, I think he's laying in his crib plotting my demise. I think this because my mom brain has not had sufficient sleep in more than a year now. 1 year and 2.5 months to be exact. But who's counting? Certainly not me. I can't count that high without sleep. Last night as I was laying in bed trying to get back to sleep after a lovely wake up call around midnight for a dirty diaper, I began doing a little plotting of my own. I began to think back to all the times when I was a teenager and my mom would vacuum the house at 6 am. Or when my dad would choose 7 am on a Saturday as a great time to start a very loud home improvement project that included pressure washing something or power tools. At the time I figured it was just an annoying thing parents did, without much thought to me as a teenager. Now I know it was all planned perfectly. Probably when I was about 7 months old in fact. I can just see my parents sitting around at 2 am talking about all the loud things they'd do early on weekends when I was 16 years old. How do I know they did this? Because I do it with Noah. I am almost giddy thinking of all the early morning chores Noah and I can come up with when Gideon's 16. In fact, we might just give him a late curfew so he'll be extra tired the next day. Payback will be ours. One day. Insert evil laugh here.

Party down!

Gideon experienced another first over the weekend- his first birthday party! On Saturday, we headed to Jesse Isaacs second birthday party over at the church. We were one of the elite few invited (that is, folks with kids around Jesse's age!) It was a hot wheels theme, and was totally awesome! There was tape the tail on the donkey (pins were too dangerous) and pop the balloon game, cake and gifts. Our little man had a blast chewing on his shoe and taking it all in. Good times. Then on Sunday, we ventured up to beautiful Plevna for another birthday party. Kenny Shrock's 89th birthday. While there were no games played or gifts given, the cake was fantastic and the company even better! We spent a lovely afternoon hanging out with 2 of our grandmas and playing in the grass. Perfect summer day! Gideon even got a few tastes of icing from the delicious cake! Happy boy! What an eventful weekend for our boy! Between the parties, he stayed with grandma and grandma on an overnight while momma and dad had a date night. What wild and crazy adventures did we have? Dinner. By ourselves. With no one yelling at us. Followed up by a movie we didn't have to pause. It was heavenly! Enjoy the pictures of Gideon from his two parties! Popular guy!

Oh, the places you'll go!

Today was one of those glorious pre-summer days that are just perfect for being outdoors. It was in the 80's, there was a slight cool breeze, it was just perfect. Gideon and I decided to try out our new sun hat and sporty sandals and met up with Carly and Emma for a day at the park. After a ridiculously hard hike up the side of a mountain (ok, it was a trail along a neighborhood golf course, but it was a steep hill!) we decided to cool down and let the babies wiggle in the grass, as if they had done anything needing cooled down from- Gideon slept and Emma ate her toes. Whatever. These are a few snapshots from our outing. These two kids sure seem to dig one another. How cute are they?

Hindsight

My son spent all of yesterday entertaining me with his newest trick- the fake cough. Along with blowing bubbles, yelling and sitting up. All things he's learned here recently. Grandma came over for our walk and he was all smiles; a perfect angel. It was one of those great days when being a mom is easy and you start thinking maybe you'll actually survive. All of his preemie issues a distant memory. Did we dream it all? Were we ever actually concerned? Certainly not. He's a strapping young boy starting to learn his world. Then something happens that makes you remember. Makes you shiver in fear of the "might haves". I am a member of a preemie group. For the most part it's a bunch of ladies with kids just like Gideon and we share our fears and concerns and milestones and achievements. It's a great group and it's neat keeping up with each others kids. Then there are the ones that don't make it. The ones that pass in the night and you open your email to a tearful post written by a distraught mom about the passing of her angel. An angry post about how God could do something like this. A desperate post asking how they're supposed to move on. It's heart wrenching to say the least. Yesterday we received word that one of our own, Kayleigh, was in some serious trouble. She was born 3 months early (just 4 weeks earlier than Gideon) weighing 1 pound, she's had all sorts of issues, although all fixable. A few days ago, she went into surgery for something routine (hospital-eze, don't remember the word) and came out brain dead. This perfect 9 month miracle who had started grabbing at toys, chewing on fingers and smiling (all things my boy does now) didn't wake up from surgery. The doctors are still scratching their heads about why. What struck me was that these parents were much like Noah and I. Going into the birth, they had no idea what was happening. They didn't know the ramifications of having a preemie, it was all learn as you go. Looking back, I am so humbled at what we have been through. Very few bumps in the road. Especially after reading up on everything that could go wrong. If I had known September 10th what I know now, I doubt I'd be able to make it. Cluelessness was definitely what held us together. Along with a lot of faith. Each day I am struck at how blessed I am to be a mom to this wonderful person. I get misty when I think of the things we'll share together. When I think of the man he'll one day become. For the most part I look forward. First birthdays, going to the orchard for the first time, first day of school. But every so often, something happens that yanks me back to that hospital those first few nights when everything was touch and go, and I am so very thankful to have made it out ok. I think these are good lessons learned. I think God wants us to never forget what we have been through and give Him the glory for bringing us out of the fire. And never take a single day for granted, even the rough ones spent with an angry child and worn out mother. As I write this, Gideon is napping peacefully in his crib. We have a day's worth of adventures planned and I didn't think twice today about heading out to tackle them. What a true blessing that is. Tonight before we go to bed, we'll say a prayer for our friend Kayleigh, and pray that if she is resting in her Father's arms, He will also comfort her mother and father here.

Sit down and shut up!

Saturday night, at the insistence of my family, we went to dinner with our beloved boy. Mistake number 1. Upon asking my mom if the place was "kid friendly", she told a little white lie and said it was. Mistake number 2! We arrived at the dimly lit, for-couples-only joint around 6:00 pm. Gideon did fairly well until about 6:02 pm. That's when all hell broke loose. After 2 dirty diapers, countless screams, and about 40 dropped toys, dinner arrived. Noah and I proceeded to shovel dinner into our mouths as quickly as possible, while juggling a cranky child while the rest of our party ate leisurely and talked. About what, I have no idea. I was dealing with an angry little man. We spent the evening walking around the restaurant and throwing up. Not so much for dinner conversation, my son. What struck me is that last night, I became "that mom". You know, the one with the baby in the trendy restaurant where babies don't belong. The one with the screaming kid that gets "the look". Yup. She is my worst nightmare, and last night she became my reality. I realize now that maybe I have been a little too critical of moms out in public. Sometimes there's just not much you can do for a cranky child. And sometimes one gets goaded into being out in public, when she knows good and well it wasn't a good idea. Sort of mommy peer pressure. I should have listened to my gut and passed on dinner. Somehow I knew Gideon couldn't handle it, it had been a rough week already. Maybe I should have pushed for anApplebee's sort of joint, where loud kids are actually encouraged, and the menu includes such items as chicken "fingers" and "riblets". Food that does not exist in nature. Maybe, shoulda, woulda, coulda . I spent most of the night after leaving dinner in a rush in tears. Just feel like a bad mom not being able to control the uncontrollable. While I know it's crazy, it's true. Thankfully Gideon had a better evening when we got home. Noah said it was probably because he knew his jig was up and he'd be that baby on the news in the shoe box on someones door if he didn't cool it. He was probably right. The boy seems to have a sixth sense about when he's about to cross that parental line of no return. So, 2 days of dissecting later (hey, what do you expect, I'm a woman and a mom, I harbor all the world's guilt!) I have decided that going out to dinner is for people sans children. There it is. My big epiphany.

Oh, and the sit down part of the title? Well, apparently that's the milestone that's been keeping Gideon up at night here lately. He has mastered the sit! Yup, our young man can sit alone with no help from momma as of Saturday. Sniff. He's so cool!

Hunting for the Zwibeck!

My little bundle of joy has this annoying habit of waking up somewhere in the neighborhood of 2 to 3 am each night in search of his pacifier. Each night, like clockwork, I hear him fuss, go and stick in the plug and am back to bed quickly. Each night I tell myself I'm going to let him cry it out. I don't. Maybe tonight. Yup, definitely tonight. Well, probably tonight. Oh, how I long for the day when he figures out how to pick that sucker up and plop it in his mouth! Well, last night was no different. I heard Jr. starting to stir so out of my dream I crashed, in time to locate the pacifier and plug him up. What irritated me was my dream he woke me out of. BG (Before Gideon) Sarah had all sorts of wonderful dreams! There was the one where I was in the shoe store and they announced everything was $1, the one where I was on a sandy beach with Mr. O'Reilly, the one where I was saving the world. You know the drill. Wonderful dreams. Fantastic dreams. Dreams that make you want to go to bed. Well, last night I was shopping alright. Shopping for teething biscuits! Zwibeck to be specific. It is apparently the bigfoot of baby food. My mother suggested them the other day, and swears they exist, although I have seen no physical proof personally. They are listed on the boxes of other baby food items, but never on the shelves. They are touted by girlfriends with babies, but never can I locate them. I've searched far and wide, from Target to Marsh, for these puppies and yet they elude me. So last night I was hunting in my dreams. Hunting for baby food. My mom was there, Gideon was there, we went from store to store coming up empty handed. When the real Gideon woke me up promptly at 3:03 am, I was mad! Gone are the good dreams about shoes and vacations, have they been replaced with dreams about teething biscuits? That's simply unfair! It's like dreaming about work, and no body wants to do that! I wasn't even in cute shoes! How utterly annoying! I went back to sleep in hopes for a fruity drink on a tropical beach somewhere at the very least, and got nothing. I think I dreamed of car seats after that. Motherhood is cruel!

5:30 am is no time for tears!

I'm sitting here sniffling, after reading this beautiful poem posted to a preemie group I'm a member of. It describes my feelings so well, I thought I'd post it.

THE SPECIAL MOTHER

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a few by habit. This year thousands of mothers will give birth to a premature baby. Did you ever wonder how mothers of preemies are chosen?

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting His instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron saint, Matthew."

"Forest, Majorie, daughter. Patron saint, Ceceila"

"Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron saint.....give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."

Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a premature baby." The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," smiles God "Could I give a premature baby a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But, does she have patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence that are so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world and that's not going to be easy."

"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child who comes in a less than perfect way. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a single spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says 'Mommy' for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. When she describes a tree or sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see-ignorance, cruelty, prejudice-and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, the pen poised in mid-air.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

-Adapted from Erma Bombeck

An Easter lesson

Today was Gideon's first Easter! What a day we had! Dad surprised us with breakfast in bed and then we ventured off to church. Wonderful service. Made you take time and remember that He is risen, and He rises for us! I've been thinking a lot on Easter this week leading up. Mostly because now I have a little boy. Could I ever go through the sacrifice of letting him go? For a world full of sinners who aren't even grateful? Could I stand by and watch as they beat and degraded my son, all for the sake of people who don't deserve it? I would look at people driving by, people who cut me off. People who yelled at their children, talked on cell phones and were generally rude. Could I give up Gideon for them? The answer is no. But how humbling it is to know that my Father chose me. With all my faults and flaws, He chose me and let his son die. To give me life. Wow. Way more meaningful with a child. I thought I got it before. I really get it now. Praise Him for his wonderful gift!

And then the kerplunk part. Gideon took his first nose dive off of the bed today. Head first onto the floor. Has a lovely carpet burn on his nose as proof. How pathetic is this picture. Poor kid. And he was under my watch, so I am officially up for worst mother of the year. Thing is, I knew he was capable of rolling off the bed. I'd been so careful, reminding Noah, reminding my mom, and a second's worth of not thinking landed my poor baby on the floor, screaming. I know that this little bump is the first in a no doubt very long run of bumps, bruises, scrapes and hurts, but to feel so very helpless was just heartbreaking. What a fitting day. I cried with Gideon and it hurt to look at his little nose, knowing it hurt him. Imagine what our Father felt watching them crucify his only son. His perfect son. Ouch. Yet another gentle reminder from my Father at how much He has given for us. Tonight as I kissed my baby to sleep after book and bath, I said a special prayer for him. For him to know the love his Father has for him, and know how special he is. To know that his Father chose him over his only son to have life. To have an amazing gift. To have the perfect gift. I can only home Gideon finds Him early on in life and holds tight. Never lets go. In my heart of hearts, this is my prayer.

7 month woes

Yesterday we went to get your pictures taken. 7 months already. Wow. You woke up from your nap cranky. Angry. Not wanting to cuddle, not wanting to chat, just wanting your bottle. The bottle you wanted to hold. As I tried to get you situated, you squirmed. You don't like laying down anymore, you want to be up looking around. You are a big boy now. I get it. After your bottle, I wrestled you into your car seat and off we went. For the pictures, you would not smile. We sat you in a bean bag and you tried as hard as you could to get up and out of that sucker. You will not be told what to do. The pictures we got are good. Classic Gideon. Goofy expressions, excited eyes. You are handsome even if you don't want to smile. What struck me about this latest round of photography is that you are really starting to exert your independence. You aren't putting up with much these days and you're sure to let everyone know if you're not happy. Gone is my little boy who sat in the bean bag all squished down and smiled pretty for the camera lady. That was just 2 months back! Here instead is a kid who knows what he wants, and more importantly what he doesn't want. That's ok with me. Some days I don't want to smile either. And I am so proud of you for knowing your own voice. Even if that means that voice can be heard echoing the entire upper floor of Sears. I hope you will never loose your voice. I hope to hear it often in the future. As you turn down your peas, talk me into various things and try explaining the trouble you get into. I hope to hear your voice as you tell me what you wish for the future, what college you'll choose. What girl you'll pick, what house to buy. I hope your voice will always hold your true desires, your true thoughts. I hope you'll never feel pressured to do something you don't feel comfortable doing, and I hope you use your voice to tell people no. Most of all, I hope as you grow up and find yourself, you'll use your voice to keep momma and dad in the loop. And on some things, I hope you'll listen to our voices. Might save you some heartache and wasted time. And if you don't feel like smiling some days, know that's ok too.

Pine-sol and bomb-pops

I love summer. I vividly remember sun suits, jelly shoes and bomb-pops purchased from the ice cream man. I remember hot fourth of July days with hot dogs and fireworks afterwards. I remember my dad showing me just how to toss the ping pong ball in to win the goldfish, and my mom probably rolling her eyes at him. I remember all of these things, and tons more from my childhood. The other day, I was mopping around a sleeping Gideon. He'd crashed out in his swing so I took the opportunity to Pine-sol it up and get to mopping. It was one of those crisp days we've had recently. I opened the windows, hummed a quiet tune and started making things clean. And then it hit me. Just as if it was yesterday, the smell of Pine-sol, the crisp air, my mom busy around the house. I remember! Every Saturday morning, the same routine. I stopped for a minute and grinned. Was I making a memory for Gideon? I went to email my mom and thank her for all the memories she's a part of from childhood. I was a lucky girl. I can only hope Gideon has those fond memories one day of his childhood, which will pass much too quickly for my liking, I can already tell. I want to share so much with him! I want to be there when he has his first bomb-pop, hear his stories from the first day of school, push him high up on the swings. Everything my parents did for me. I can't wait to start our own traditions with Gideon, like taking him for a Chinese lunch every year on the last day of school (like my mom always did). Listening to the day's adventures at the dinner table. Helping with math. Ok, maybe that's Noah's department. I can envision decorating the Christmas tree with him and going on walks in the orchard to pick apples. Spotting the spring flowers together as they first start coming up. It is amazing that everything I took for granted as a child has come back to hit me square in the face. Everything I remember, I want for Gideon. And I am so excited for him! He has so much to look forward to. He has everything to look forward to. Everything to him is new and exciting. Fresh and entertaining. We took him to the pet store the other day while we looked at new fish for our aquarium. He was all bright eyes and smiles. What a big, big world this is, and I can tell he's the kind of kid wanting to take it all on. Sometimes it's hard to fathom making it through another day, week, month, but then I think back to my own childhood and it seems like only yesterday. I have no doubt as the time flies by, Gideon will be grown before we know it, and before we're ready. I hope he'll fondly remember me one day when he smells a smell or sees a sight. And I hope we make his world just as cool as my parents made mine.

She's crafty!

Like the title from one of Noah's favorite Beastie Boy songs, this ushers in the phase of the crafty SAHM (that's Stay at Home Mom for those of you not in the know) Yup, it's true. I am now officially one of "those" women I talk about. I remember receiving a greeting card from a newly SAHMed friend when I was still in heels and skirts on a daily basis. She made the card. She made the card! As in glitter, glue, little flower stickers, the whole nine yards. I remember thinking that I barely had time to drive by Hallmark, let alone go in and she's making cards. Wow. Now I completely understand. While I haven't taken up scrapbooking (and have vowed never to do so, we'll see how weak I get) I do now fill my days with soap making, baby food making and crafting of various types. So here they are in all their glory, my first SAHM craft project, Bob and Ralph, Gideon's 2 elephant hooks that now adorn his walls and hold up his caps. I am ridiculously proud of these fellas. Spent most of the day getting them just right. Took me hours to craft the heart shaped eyes, the painted toe nails, decide on just the right angle of the grin. Wow. This is my life now? Eish. Old Sarah would have just stuck a couple of push pins in the wall and called it a day, but this new Sarah, this SAHM Sarah with time on her hands, decided only cutsie pootsie elephants would work at holding up precious Gideon's hats. Sheesh, that sounds sick even to me! My next project is sewing a shopping cart cover. This must be how Martha Stewart got her start- time on her hands staying home with her kids, and bitchy due to lack of sleep? Oh crap. This is definitely not a good thing!

What, are you Catholic or something?

We've gotten a lot of guff for the moniker we saddled our boy with. What, are you Catholic or something? Gideon, isn't that some sort of mythological creature, like with Zeus? Or, my personal favorite, after announcing our pick, one of Noah's co-workers asked him just how many children he had had- as in, did we really need all those names for one kid? Ha ha, funny. Ok, so our boy has a long name. So it doesn't fit on one line of his social security card. Well, we figured he might just need this mighty name. I figure since it's Noah's child and Deb warned me numerous times how naughty he was as a kid, maybe the extra name would come in handy. As in, if I am yelling at him and get to Gideon Timothy, he knows he's not in too much trouble. If I reach Patrick, he'd better be running. If I get to O'Reilly, he'll know that he's toast. Good theory. Hopefully I'll never need any name other than Gideon. Yeah right!

Gideon Timothy Patrick O'Reilly. Kind of has a ring, doesn't it? I thought I'd blog a bit on why exactly we chose it and what it means. Some of it is obvious, some really isn't. Gideon was chosen for Gideon in the bible. If you don't know the story, read Judges. Good, old testament stuff in there. Basically Gideon was a bad dude. He was God's mighty warrior. While we really liked the name, after Gideon was born, we figured he was going to be a fighter. We wanted him to have God in his corner. We also wanted to give God the glory, not man.

Timothy was chosen after our dear uncle who passed away about 6 weeks before Gideon came into the world. Wonderful O'Reilly man. We wanted our son to have strong ties to his family. We wanted him to value hard work and have good character, like Tim did. Tim, and his wife Sandy (Gideon's honorary Gramma) are some of our most favorite family members. I fondly remember dinners with them and long talks afterwards. I could always tell when Noah needed an O'Reilly male fix- he'd invite Tim and Sandy to dinner. I loved watching their minds work. Solving problems, being sarcastic, being men. I also loved watching Tim with Sandy. They were the true meaning of a team. They were a beautiful couple. The kind you see out somewhere sitting on the same side of the booth giggling at inside jokes. You could tell he cherished her. They had that kind of love everyone wants to have, and only few are lucky enough to find. I felt so blessed to be witness to that love. And I wanted Gideon to have that compassion. That love. One day we will tell him stories of his wonderful namesakes. I hope he has the traits of these wonderful men. And I hope he knows how special they are and how much more blessed we are for having had them in our lives.

Patrick was chosen for Noah's father, who passed away just 12 days after we were married. I did not know him well, but what I do know of him is wonderful. And I know that the man I married attributes a lot of himself and who he is to having had this wonderful, hands on dad. I know Pat also valued his family about all else save for the Lord. I know he was strong in his faith and big on sharing it. I know that he was also sarcastic to a fault and had no sense of direction. I love that!

I hope one day that my boy will grow into his big, long name. And I hope he's proud of it. I hope he speaks it with his head held up, knowing that he is one in a long line of great O'Reilly men. I hope that he learns what it is like to be a great man from his father, who has learned his lessons from his father and uncle. It is sad that Gideon will never know his namesakes, but I hope through stories, they'll never be forgotten, and he'll have a great desire to grow up and make them proud. And I hope one day he'll forgive us for making his initials TP. Hehe...