Like I mentioned here and here, names with meaning are important to us. And we finally got to use our boy name! John William was our boy name if Marin had been a boy and if Emilie had been a boy. Here's why:
John: My dad's name is John and my Grandpa (my dad's dad's) name is John. And, my mom's brother's name is John. It's a family name name that belongs to some of our very favorite people on earth. It was really important to me to name John after my dad, mostly because I think my dad hung the moon. It's no secret that I am a daddy's girl. Adding another John has complicated things just a little bit. Especially because my dad's middle initial is P, so often he is called John P. For now, we just have JohnJohn or baby John and Grandpa or Dad. My dad and my Grandpa are some of the smartest, warmest, kindest people on this planet. If my son grows to be half the man that they are, he'll be a saint.
William: Jason's dad's name is William and Jason's middle name is William. So it's a nod to both of them. Jason's dad is a great guy. The kids love their Pappy and now that Jason's older, he's one of Jason's best friends. Bill did a great job raising Jason, and after his mom died, it wasn't always easy. It certainly wasn't the direction he pictured his life going at 33 years old. He taught Jason a lot about responsibility and accountability and I know that Jason attributes a lot of who he is today to his Dad. Bill and Jason are very close and I hope that Jason and John will have a similar relationship as he grows.
So our little JohnJohn is named for both of his Grandfathers and also his Great Grandfather and his Dad. He and Jason have the same initials and yet, he's still uniquely his own John William Patterson. We can't wait to see who he'll become. He's sure to set the world on fire!
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Two Month Stats
11 lbs. 13 oz.
22.5 inches long
I think since I know that this is may last baby, everything is going triple speed. Or, it could just be since I have three kids that things are going triple speed. Whatever the reason, I am acutely aware that the days of a tiny little baby perfectly snuggled in the crook of my neck, are numbered. And although I know that it's how life goes, it is horribly sad so slowly be leaving this chapter of life behind. Suffice it to say, I am trying to enjoy every single millisecond with my baby John. All the while, dreaming of a time machine to slow down time. (Although truth be told, there are a few days we could just fast forward right through- due in part to the two dramatic toddlers going on teenagers in our house.)
These days John is smiling up a storm and melts all of our hearts when he does. He's a happy little guy. He tracks us with his eyes well when we come into a room, and definitely hears his sisters voices. He grasps our fingers and my hair or the collar of my shirt while I am nursing him. He is strong, holds his head up well, and turns it from side to side. He is starting to be awake more and more now and when he is awake he is very alert. He also loves to snuggle, and I love that he loves to snuggle. He really prefers to be held all the time if he could, but he tolerates his swing for small periods of time when we can't hold him. His sisters lived for that thing, John more just tolerates it. He naps swaddled in his swing, however. And he'll sleep like for a few hours.
John loves to be swaddled- it's pretty much the only way that he'll sleep. So we swaddle him for naps and at bedtime. The longest he has slept at a time was 8 hours and 15 minutes, which was an amazing night and would have been even more amazing had I gone to bed when he did. Up until this week, he would go to bed around 8:30 and sleep until 3 or 3:30. But all of the sudden this week he's up again at 1:30. Still, he's regularly up only one time at night, so I can't complain about that. And he eats, and then goes back to sleep. He is able to put himself to sleep awake, but drowsy, as long as he has a full belly and has burped.
Jason and I think he's a perfect angel, and his sisters definitely agree. The newness of him hasn't worn off to them yet, and I hope it won't until he's totally assimilated himself as "one of them". I can't wait to hear them all talking to each other, and watch them all running through the house together. John really is a good baby. And he's our sunshine.
|oh no... i'm about to cry!|
Friday, October 18, 2013
So many people ask me, "How is it with three?" Here's my take: It's really just the same as life with two, only doubled. More diapers, less sleep, less time to get things done, more running around. With two, you're doing these things already, so three is just bringing another along for the ride. And that's just what John does. He's along for the ride.
And with his crazy sisters, totally insane mama and our crazy schedules, the "along for the ride" attitude is going to serve him well. Poor guy has no other choice. When Marin was born we took leisurely stroller walks through the park. We read books for hours. Literally hours. We perused neighborhood book stores and shops. When Emilie was born there was some of that, but a little less. But now, to peruse a book store means that I have a four year old and a two year old in tow, on top of the i-could-start-screaming-and-demand-to-eat/blow-out-my-outfit-any-minute newborn. The "big kids" are likely pulling on me asking to buy something, one or both will inevitably have to use the potty, and they're both probably running in circles singing pre-school songs. I'll spell it out for you- that's not peaceful. But it's not to say we don't do it. We do it plenty. It's just with a lot of talks in the car first about being respectful in public places, the old "this is not a jungle gym" talk, and let's just be real: there's also bribery. I am not above bribery. If you are, and you have a toddler, you are either Jesus or stupid. Sorry if that's harsh.
I was at a mother's group recently and we were listening to a speaker. It was a mom who had been there and survived. Her children are now all in their late 20's. She stated out asking who in the room had a toddler. When we raised our hands, she joked that everyone else in the room should pray for us. She said that the only difference between a toddler and a teenage is height and weight. In both cases, she said, you find yourself asking your child, "what were you thinking?!" Moving on to the next parenting challenge, she asked who had a child at home who was potty training. I found myself raising my hand again. Finally she asked who in the room had an infant that they were likely up in the middle of the night with, worrying about every little milestone and was likely breastfeeding. Raised my hand again. I'm like a circus act. A lot of balls in the air, a lot to juggle. But it was good to see that my hand wasn't the only one that went up all those times.
Sometimes I feel badly for John. He only knows me to be crazy. I am certain he thinks I yell too much. Marin didn't see me yell for almost 3 years. And by then, Emilie was already 6 months old. Poor John probably has partial hearing loss from hearing me scream at his sisters even while he was in the womb. Yeah, I gotta work on that. I always start out calm, and then by the third time I have to ask you to put your shoes on, I go a little wacky. John only knows a crazy run around schedule. Maybe after both of his sisters are in school full time we'll sit down and read books for hours, but it's not likely to happen before then. However, just when I start to feel badly for John's because of the circumstances of being the third child, I catch him smiling at his sisters who are crowded around him singing their favorite songs, or telling him, "You're so cute, JohnJohn!". And I know he's going to be alright. A good friend once told me that a sibling is the greatest gift you can ever give your kids. And it's so true. They are enamored with each other. But the real truth is that even with all the craziness (and, unfortunately the yelling), when my kids are all together in the same space it brings me incredible, inexplicable happiness. It's too bad we can't bottle it. Seeing my children together enjoying each other is literally the greatest joy of my life. Because one day, I won't be here, and all they'll have is each other. And they can sit together, drinking beers and talk about how they all drove mom crazy.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
One Month Stats:
10 lbs. 5oz.
John is a good little guy. He sleeps like a champ, which is amazing. At one month, he gets up about twice a night, at about 1am and 4am. He eats and goes right back to sleep right away. He poops constantly, like crazy. In his first few weeks of life, he went about 12 times a day. And that is not an exaggeration. Yeah. Everything works. But he's still gaining weight, he regained his birth weight before his one week check and continued to gain well from there. He's a good eater. Marin told someone the other day, "John's a good sleeper like me, and a good eater like Emilie!" Guess she's heard us say that a few times. When we first brought Marin home from the hospital she slept like a champ, but we had a really hard time eating. Emilie was just he opposite. She latched right away, but was a bit more finicky in the sleep department. So far, John seems to be the best of both worlds!
With good eater comes good spitter-upper, it seems. I'm once again covered in it, as is he. The smell absolutely repulses Jason. I guess I'm used to it.
John is very alert. He's been this way since he was only days old. He loves to look around and I think he recognizes our faces; especially the girls and I who spend most of the day in his face. The girls love to say, "Look at me, John John! I'm your big sister!" Marin especially loves to say this. And then Emilie says it because Marin just did. ;) He likes music and to be sung to. We sing "You are my John John" to the tune of "You are my Sunshine". He loves to snuggle, especially facing your chest, all nuzzled up under your chin. He still curls his little legs into a ball, and I love this because it reminds me that even at 10 pounds, he's still a tiny little bundle.
In the wee hours of the morning I whisper to him that he's my sweet baby boy and I tell him I love him 4,000 times while kissing the top of his head. Sometimes during various points in the day I kiss his cheeks until it's almost weird. And I just literally want to eat him whole. He's such a sweet little yummy munchkin and I love every inch of his baby skin.
We all make John predictions. Will his hair be light like the girls? Will it be curly? What will he love? What will he make of all the pink tutus in our basement? Will he happily play princesses? How will he change this estrogen palace? What will be the dynamic between he and his sisters? Will he cure cancer? I can't wait to discover. I can't wait to see his dreams come true. I can't wait to watch him grow.
We love you, John John. You have stolen our hearts.
And we're certainly all crazy in love with John John, our "number five". He is the sweetest little guy ever. We love snuggling with him and nuzzling into his sweet baby smell. The girls are absolutely gaga about him. They call him "baby boy", which is appropriate since John is the first male Patterson born since Jason, 35 years ago. They take very good care of him, kissing his head and saying, "Look at me, John John!" Emilie sings "You are my John John. You make me haaaPEE, skies gray!" When she says John John is sounds like Chohn Chohn. Marin loves to hold John, and she's such a great helper- like an honest to goodness, able to really help me, help. It's amazing. Marin also loves to dress John and both girls like to help me give him a bath and read to him. Marin has learned to spell his name, although she tells me that I write the J backwards. :)
I have said before that I am a rare bread that loves to give birth. I really do. I love that day so very much. This time, my contractions started in the middle of the night, during a blue moon. After being told that it was "extremely rare" for the third baby to be late, we had been waiting and waiting for weeks. Every night I went to bed thinking that would be the night. But then I'd wake up again in the morning still pregnant. On Tuesday night, August 20th, (which also happened to be the 13 year anniversary of Jason and my first date), I went to dinner down the street with my girlfriends to send our neighbor who was transferred to Indiana off in style. I was the talk of the table. How had the baby not come yet? Kristy, my other neighbor, and I were due 8 days apart. Her baby was already 3 weeks old. And I was still pregnant. There was a bright full moon that night that was shining very brightly right over our house. What more, it was a blue moon, which only comes every three years. As in, once in a blue moon. Marin was born on a full moon, so this showed promise. The girls were convinced that it was the night. I got home at 10:30, and just after 1am, woke up with contractions. Real contractions, the kind that get stronger as they're happening. Oh yeah... that's what these feel like. This is the real deal. We started to time them. By 2am we decided to call the hospital. When I told them my contractions were 4-6 minutes apart for an hour, and this was my third baby, she said to come on in. We called my parents, took a shower, and my mom followed Jason and I to the hospital while my dad stayed with the girls before Lindsay could get there.
We got to the hospital at 3am. The nurse that checked us in never left my room. Shortly after I got there, my water broke in the bed, and then the contractions came rapid fire. Crazy painful. I nearly broke Jason and my mom's hands. Jason convinced the nurse that I needed the epidural, but she still had to give me an IV and a bag full of fluids before she could even order it. But the baby wasn't waiting for that nonsense, so she sped up the fluids by putting a pump on them and called to give the anesthesiologist a "heads up" that she had a "multiple" (multiple births) who was progressing quickly. I had the nicest, kindest, most patient anesthesiologist. He assured me that he could give me the anesthesia as quickly as safely possible and that I could do it with the advanced contractions I was having. But after I finally got the anesthesia going, the baby's heart rate dropped dangerously low. There was a big commotion and the anesthesiologist assured me that worst case scenario I'd have an emergency c-section in a few minutes, but that I was good to go with my anesthesia, so I wouldn't have to do anything else, but lay there and get him out. He very calmly and confidently assured me that they were going to do what was best for the baby, and that he was going to be perfect. Luckily, they were able to move me different ways, turn him internally, and give me some oxygen, so his heart rate regulated on its own. Already a fighter. Once the commotion was over, they checked my cervix again and I was at a 9. They never had a chance to catheterize me, or hook up the button that gave me extra anesthesia every 15 minutes if needed. Jason had already called Lindsay and Molly and they were on their way. It was almost 6am. The nurse told me that if I felt a pain, to let her know first, and sure enough right away I did. She checked and told me I was at 10, and ready to push. The doctor and nurses came in, (this time my doctor was not there, it was Dr. Bowles, in my doctor's group). They told me to push right away, and liked the immediate progress, but the baby's heart rate dropped dangerously low again when I did. There was another commotion and Dr. Bowles was saying, "Call Neo! Call Neo!" The cord was wrapped around the baby's neck. They decided to use the vacuum to get him out and a few pushes and one suction later, and he was out and cord free very quickly as Dr. Bowles cut his cord right away. He was born at 6:27am. I cried when I held him in my arms for the first time. I don't know if it was the scare of the commotion, or the disbelief that he was born so quickly, or just the sheer joy of holding my precious baby boy in my arms, but I cried holding my sweet wrinkly, blue, slimy beautiful baby boy to my chest.
Molly made it just in time, probably due largely to the fact that her speedometer was broken. Lindsay was at our house with the girls, who weren't even up yet, so my mom and dad were both with Molly in the waiting room for the announcement of his safe arrival, and his name. Lindsay told the girls when they woke up that they had a new brother and that his name was John William. Only then did Marin tell the secret that we had told her the name a few weeks beforehand. She wanted him to be named Ethan, but John grew on her quickly. ;) After they woke up, the girls came to meet John. They also got to have donuts for breakfast. Emilie was equally if not more excited about her sprinkle donut than she was about her baby brother. :)
|just seconds after he was born|
|with Dr. Bowles|
|the baby brought the girls big sister medals and new dollies|
|yeah, yeah. it's a baby. Did you see my sprinkle donut?!!|
John is a great sleeper and eater. He mostly gets up only one time a night, two at the most. Although, he already has his first cold (the hazards of two sisters in school) and that keeps him up a little bit more lately. He loves to be held and snuggled, and (thank you Jesus) he likes his paci.
It's already hard to imagine a time when it was just the four of us. Life is crazy. We almost always make a scene wherever we go. Strangers stop me in parking lots and ask, "Do you need help?" And then there's my favorite observation, "You sure have your hands full!" Gee, thanks. Yes, my hands are full. Life is crazy. We're crazy. I look crazy most of the time. But I wouldn't have it any other way. Two plus three equals crazy. Crazy love. Crazy good.