Mr. Sandman

It's no secret that new moms don't get much sleep. By much, I mean just about every morning you wake up feeling like you've been hit by truck. All other moms want to know is "how is she sleeping at night?" because they know. But guess what? This week Hannah hits the 6 week mark. The magical hump that means you've made it. You've crested over the hill of unsustainable no-sleep nights and are now entering the sustainable no-sleep nights. I still feel tired. And every morning I drag Hannah into bed hoping that I can get her to fall back asleep for a few more moments of coveted zzzz's. And as soon as we both start to drift off again I hear Liesel singing Old McDonald and yelling "gee out!" or Brian flushes our toilet (or in other words launches a missile from our bathroom-- have you ever flushed a low water toilet? It is ridiculous). And I have to pull the pillow from over my head and acknowledge that the day is ready to start regardless of my energy level. 

 But then she walks in.  And says "gee up." 

and jumps on the bed. And falls on the bed. And nearly crushes Hannah (again). 

 and I hear her laugh

 and I look at my chubby little angel who is now wide awake 

 and I give my girls a hug and kiss

 and the day begins. 

Druid Arch

Druid Arch is my favorite hike in the Needles. We started late. Brian joined us.  He tried to scare Lindsey. We hiked back under the stars. Hannah was a trooper on her first 11mile hike. The scenery was amazing. The sunset even better. The company fantastic. The mood light. The muscles sore. The chocolate eaten. 

Thanksgiving dinner tasted all the better the next day. 

future crack climbers

Indian Creek is a hugely popular Thanksgiving destination. Everyone from Boulder, CO (or even if they aren't from Boulder, CO-- they will tell you they are) loads their dog and their weed in the car and heads down for the week in their Subaru, Outback. You can't get in unless you're wearing a Patagonia puffy and a beanie from Cusco, Peru. Jk. . . sort of. 

We live at Indian Creek. Basically. And we finally made it out to the crag last Tuesday after 2.5 months living here. It was my first time climbing in six months. It felt so good to be back in my harness (well, good except for the fact that wearing a harness never feels that good and it definitely accentuates my postpartum inner-tube). 

Matt on 3am crack. This was my first Indian Creek crack climb back when Brian and I were dating in 2007. I think I still have a few scars. The first time it took me 45 minutes. Luckily, I was faster this time. 

 Allison and Hannah hanging out at the crag. 

One of Liesel's favorite pastimes: sneaking into the snack bag. Also on the list: wrapping up rocks in her dolly blankie and saying "little little tiny ______." (that ranged this week from a Box Elder beetle to the Colorado River). 

Bandme. We can't really do this on our own, but Allison and Matt and their killer baby-sitting skills made it possible. I have to say that both kids were overall pretty darn good at the crag all day and the other climbers didn't seem to mind (some were pretty interested actually) our kiddos. 

 All Indian Creek photos of me are booty shots. I shouldn't post them, but I do anyway. Climbing crack consists of jamming your hands and feet into the vertical crack and climbing it like a ladder. The Creek is a hugely popular Thanksgiving destination and it was packed with climbers who always say they are from Boulder, CO. 

Allison and Liesel watching Brian climb. 

The next day I was sore I could barely pick Hannah up. But now that I feel fine again we're going back tomorrow for more hand jams and sandstone. 

Liesel in Action

you're cute.

 so I'm almost 4 weeks old . . . in like two days. 

 yes! That deserves a fist pump. 

 but despite my maturity, I like to lounge around naked in cushy doughnut-shaped pillows. 

 and spend hours staring at the window.  Okay, like 10 minutes. And after those 10 minutes are up, I'm tired. And would like to nurse. Yes, again. And go to sleep. 

 how else can improve on these rolls. I know, I have a very cute cinnamon roll shaped belly button. 

 mom is cool. so is dad, but he doesn't feed me. . . but by the time i'm two, he'll be cooler than mom since he can pick me up by my ankles and let me do things mom doesn't. Just ask Liesel. 

 mom loves how my forehead wrinkles up like an old man

 and when my hands get droopy when I'm full and drowsy. melt melt melt. 

my first 4 weeks have been pretty sweet.  ohhhhhhhhh

yeah. 

on natural birth

I, Angela Hays am not a doctor. I'm not a nurse. I'm not a midwife. In fact, I'm not even really smart. But I am a mother. And I have given birth (only twice). And I have been asked (more than once) about birthing naturally. Or is is natural childbirth?

This is not the end of my disclaimer. I've only done this twice. I know that every woman and labor is different. I am a skeptic by nature-- most especially of the medical field. [side note: I probably inherited that from my father who performed his own allergy test by injecting himself with dust from our carpet and drilling his own thumb nail to relieve the pressure from a hematoma (fancy for bruise. That's a close as I get to being a doc). Both were successful I might add].

I am a junkie for birth stories. I may very well use an epidural next time (if I'm fortunate enough to have a next time). I won't judge you if you do. Giving birth is a gnarly experience. And you'll look way hotter in your hospital photos.

With that said, natural childbirth is also a really raw/amazing/paradigm altering experience. I'm sure any birth is whether it's natural or not, but that's all I have to go with.

After Liesel I would walk around and marvel at all the people on the street/stores/working and that someone gave birth to every single one of them. I felt somehow connected with generations of females that have brought children into the world. When I walk around the Needles and pass by a granary or grooves in the rock from mamas making flour all those years ago-- and think about them giving birth out here with no cushy hospitals and ice chips and picturing their exhausted faces, I admire them and feel like we're friends (and I think, "man, it's weird that walking by a granary is an every other day occurrence and I must really be lonely to think I"m friends with someone who I've never met and has been dead for thousands of years. But that's coo").

This 2nd time around (with Hannah) I was amazed at how great I felt as soon as I delivered. I felt fab (minus the flab). I had energy. I wasn't as dead. I felt like I was already on the road to recovery. Whew. It was at least 40% easier than the first delivery.

So for those who really really want a natural childbirth, here are a few things that helped me:

--Rent or check out the DVDs Laugh and Learn about Childbirth. The one breathing technique she talks about is the only thing I use to relax. Knowing the stages of labor is really helpful b/c you won't run to the hospital too early. And it feels good to know what to expect. I found these really helpful. Brian did too-- and as my coach it was nice that he knew the drill as well.

--Try your very hardest not to get over anxious. This really hard! But it is almost essential that you go into labor on your own (and not get induced). I could explain why, but I won't. Tell your doc this too. We let ours know that we didn't want to discuss induction until we hit the 2 week mark and he agreed.

-- You'll know when labor is active when you can't talk or joke through the contractions and need to concentrate to relax. Every labor is different, but I try not to time contractions or think about going to the hospital until I reach this point. For me it doesn't have much to do with how far apart the are.

-- Labor at home for as long as you can. This is coming from someone who had to drive 1.5 hrs and 2hrs to the hospital. . . and didn't really labor at home for more than 5 hrs each time. But if you can and have the option, stay out of the hospital (the first go around we went to a hotel first to be close enough but not at the hospital and labored there for several hours).

-- have your coach (in my case, Brian) time your contractions by letting you know the 15 second intervals. When you reach 30-60 seconds the peak of the contraction will have passed and you know the intensity is on it's way down.

-- play mental games with yourself. Always think that your less dilated than you hope you are. Try and  keep your mind occupied if you're overdue.

-- Labor is manageable until you reach transition and by that time it's too late for an epidural anyway. Is that comforting? For some reason it helped me.

-- books will say to eat and drink. I would drink apple juice (or something like it) but not much else. . . I found yogurt, popsicles and pretty much everything but water (or ice) and apple juice to be too much. And there's a good chance you'll throw it up. I didn't eat any thing but apple juice the 2nd time and threw up way less. Is that comforting?

-- turn out the lights in the hospital room.

-- do deep slow breathing through contractions and try and keep your body totally relaxed. This may go out the window during transition, but it will be key in getting you there.

-- crack a joke every once in a while.

-- When you push, your body should be between a 45 and 90 degree angle.  . . not lying completely flat on your back.

Well, there you have it. A few completely unsolicited tidbits of advice. Happy birthing!

snow day

first snow of the season last week. . .

first snowman (covered in chalk dust)

who graciously allowed himself to be sacrificed to the 2yo who loved eating snow(men)

someone didn't love their first snow day

first cup of hot cocoa
that someone loved very much

first time wearing her "spacesuit"
but definitely not the last.

these are the days

 There are a few awesome things about growing up in the tail end of a family of seven. If my older siblings said it was cool, then it. was. cool. 

Ben & Jerry's wasn't just an ice cream, it was the coolest spot on Franklin St. and I was desperate for one of their t-shirts with cows. I remember my sister's U2 posters and awful hats (remember Blossom?). Emily at one point went through a Billy Joel phase and to this day I really really really love me some Billy Joel (she also went through a serious Reba McEntire phase and although I remember shedding some tears to Fancy and The Greatest Man I Ever Knew, that one didn't make a lasting impression-- thank goodness). 

There is one Billy Joel song that goes "these are the days to hold on to, cause we won't although we'll want to. . ." Time is flying by. I can't believe we're 12 days into November. I can't believe Brian and I just celebrated our 5th anniversary. I can't believe I'm turning 30 in two months. I can't believe Liesel is almost 2 and Hannah will be 1 month old in a week. 

There was a conference talk recently where a women talked about looking at a photograph of she and her young children on a blanket and wishing that she had just slowed down a little bit more and enjoyed them. That she hadn't been so rushed to get bath time over, or put them down for naps or check this or that off so she could go onto the next thing. That is one benefit of living down here at the Needles (that and the fact that since there is no social life to be had, I can go to bed guilt free at 7:30pm).  . . I find myself doing things a little slower. 

Which means I get to spend more time looking at these curls. And watching Liesel watching daddy and Hannah through the Boppy. And play puzzles. And rock Hannah. And hug my girls. And play in the snow. And dry tears. And change diapers. And sing songs. And play motor boat. And take pictures. 

And there's another reason to hold onto these days. . . I'm not gonna lie. I am bummed about the election results. I know not everyone who checks this blog feels the same way I do, but I was really rooting for Mitt.  Things obviously things didn't go the way my election map predicted:

 But that is the great thing about living in this nation-- everyone has a voice and the voice of the people chose Obama. And while I wish I could have voted in say, Florida, where it really seems like you have a voice (lets be honest-- EVERYONE knows how Utah was going to vote)-- at least I get a voice. But I worry that the voice of the people wants bigger government, more handouts, less religion and a looser moral code.

 I saw a chocolate bar today in the shape of a dollar bill that said "In Santa We Trust" and I kind of think that is exactly what America wants these days. 

Either way, this little one is lucky to be born in the USA and watch her first presidential election results roll in . . . I wonder what America will be like when she's my age? 

out and about

Last week Brian came down with a cold and ended up staying home from work. I jumped on the opportunity for him to watch Liesel while my mom and I got out in the park a bit. I had been in the Needles for two months and hadn't made the trip into Chesler park. So after 9 months of carrying Hannah around on my belly, I strapped her back on.

 The weather was absolutely perfect and was for the whole three weeks my mom was here visiting. Today it suddenly dropped to 45 degrees. . .  but that didn't stop L and I from making our daily trek to the visitor center. 

Gotta love nursing in nature. You can tell it's early on since I'm still toting a nursing cover and worrying about modesty. By the time L was at the Tetons would just hide behind a tree.