Today I had to rise at the ungodly hour of 3:15am to get to work by 4am. There was no else on the road as I drove to the Mother of All Coffee Houses, which was kind of creepy, and made me feel like I was the last person on Earth. Or the stupidest for getting up so damn early.

The four hour shift really wasn't so bad - it actually went pretty quickly even though I still don't have a clue what I'm doing (unless someone wants a Frappiccino - I'm the bomb at that because it's the only station they have been putting me at for my ENTIRE training.) However, when I went in the back after my shift ended to see if the schedule was finally posted for next week, I was shocked to find that they had scheduled me for FORTY HOURS. Say what? I'm only supposed to work 24 hours max! I was quite sure I had made that extremely clear during all of my interviews and during my orientation. So I went and told my boss that he had made an error, and that I was scheduled for twice the number of hours I was supposed to have. His response? "Well, that's too bad. You're going to have to find someone to cover the shifts that you don't want." Excuse me?! That's his mistake, not mine! He must have seen the steam coming out of my ears, because he quickly said, "I suppose I can help you just this once, but in the future, it will be your responsibilty. And I can't guarantee that I can find people to cover the extra shifts, so you may have to work more than you want to next week." I figured that was the best I was going to get out of him, so I swallowed my bubbling anger and said thank you.

Then, as I was driving home, I realized that he had also scheduled me to work an 8 hour shift ON THE DAY WE'RE SUPPOSED TO MOVE. I guess the fact that I had told him that day was off limits from the very beginning (and reminded him several times since then) means NOTHING.

This just keeps getting better and better...

Caffiene Headache

Another fabulous day of training at the Mother of All Coffee Houses. I showed up for my shift this morning only to find that the manager I had been working with was off for the day - and this new manager had no idea I was coming in for training. Not a good start. I told her that I was supposed to do some sort of training module on a computer to learn how to use the cash register and all I got was a blank look. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," she told me, "but you're welcome to go ahead and fiddle with the computer in the back." FIDDLE WITH THE COMPUTER? Okay...

Luckily, I'm pretty computer savy and I was able to figure out how to start the training module on my own. However, it included an audio portion and I couldn't hear because it was too loud in the back office. The volume on the computer was up as loud as it would go and when I inquired about headphones, I was told "We used to have them somewhere..." Could these people be any more helpful? So I ended up having to lean over and put my ear directly up against the computer speaker - FOR THREE FREAKIN' HOURS.

After I finished learning about how to use the register, the manager told me to go and try out my new skills by taking some orders. I was feeling pretty confident that I had gotten the hang of things during the computer training, until I saw the register screen. Hmm, that's strange, I thought, it looks, COMPLETELY DIFFERENT than the one I had just learned on. When I mentioned this to the manager, she said, "Oh, that must of been an outdated training module. We've recently changed the system." Soyou mean to tell me that I just spent THREE WHOLE HOURS of my time learning the wrong thing? Wow, it doesn't get much better than this.

Have I mentioned how much I'm loving this?

My First Day Aboard the Mothership

As I've mentioned before, I recently took a job at the Mothership of all Coffee Houses, Starbucks. Well, yesterday I had my first real day of work and let me tell you, being a barista is not as easy as it looks! Of course, I just had to go and work at one of the busiest Starbucks in the area - there is practically a line out the door at any given moment - so you have to really know what you're doing and be able to do it fast. And after being home with a baby for the past three and a half months, I'm afraid that my brain is no longer capable of working quickly. I found this out the hard way when they threw me into the Frappiccino blending station and basically gave me a trial by fire. Let me tell ya, it wasn't pretty.

I'm sure that once I have the drink recipies down and I can do my job on autopilot, things will be a piece of cake. After all, it's not rocket science - it's just making coffee, right? How hard can that possibly be? But right now, I'm dreading going to work and feeling like a complete idiot again. I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing this for my family. And who can resist these two?

Hangin' With the Big Kids

Hind Sight Is 20/20

I know that as a first time mom, I will be making plenty of mistakes. If I had these past three months to do over again, knowing what I know now, here's what I'd do differently:

1. I would start off having Rory sleep in his crib from day one, even if that means that it needs to take up a lot of space in our bedroom for awhile before we move him into a room of his own. We started with Rory sleeping in a basinette for the first few weeks, but once we figured out that he had acid reflux, we had to move him into something more upright. So we grabbed the first thing we saw - his swing. It worked like a charm at first - he slept 7 hours in a row! - and we were patting ourselves on the back for coming up with such a swell idea. However, now that he's out growing his swing, he's waking up every couple of hours - and he won't sleep in his crib for longer than a few minutes. If we ever want to get some sleep again, something is going to have to change...
2. I would put Rory DOWN for naps right from the start, rather than holding him in my arms. Admit it, when you first bring home your baby from the hospital, all you want to do is stare at him. And since I had the King of the Fussy Babies, the only time I could really get a good look at him was when he was asleep. So I got into the habit of holding Rory while he napped so I could snuggle with him during the only time he was ever still. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I can hardly ever put him down to nap. Which means that I hardly get ANYTHING done.

But aside from not getting much sleep and not being able to do anything around the house, I'd say I'm handling motherhood like a pro...

HA.

The Breastfeeding Controversy

This morning some elderly Jehovah’s Witness ladies knocked on my door and since I was bored, I decided to open it instead of pretending that I wasn't home. (Come on - you know you all do it, too!) At the time, I happened to be drinking a rather large cup of coffee - a huge Jehovah’s Witness no-no (and what should have been a big hint that they had NO chance of ever converting me. I'm VERY attached to my caffeine these days.) They began going through their shtick, but then Rory started crying (thank you, Rory!), so I looked appropriately contrite and said "Aw shucks, I'd better get going - my son needs his bottle." And the two little old ladies gasped and said "BOTTLE? My goodness! Aren't you breastfeeding like a good mother should?"

OUCH.

As much as that comment hurt, I’m sad to say that it isn’t something that I haven’t thought of myself, many times. When I pictured myself having children, breastfeeding had always been a part of that picture. I’ve always been somewhat of a hippie, granola crunching girl, so of course I wanted to go the “natural” way in feeding my baby. Besides, women are MADE to feed their children, so how hard can it be, right?

Wrong. Breastfeeding was one of the toughest things I’ve ever tried to do. Rory couldn’t latch on correctly right from the start and before long, my poor nipples were getting cracked and blistered. Ever time Rory sucked, I felt like I was being stapled by his gums. They sent three lactation consultants to see me at the hospital, but none of them could figure out what the problem was. They just said that eventually it would get better. I even hired a private consultant to come to the house several days a week once I got sent home, but she couldn’t seem to help me either. I tried a finger feeder, breast shields, and pretty much every other trick in the book – plus I was having to pump every two hours night and day to keep my milk production up. I was exhausted and depressed.

Finally after three weeks, I realized that I was starting to resent my new baby for hurting me every time I had to feed him and I knew I had to make a change. The first time I gave Rory a bottle, I was a guilt-stricken wreck. But the moment he started to eat, and he looked up at me with his big adoring eyes, I realized how peaceful it was. And finally I was able to really bond with him and fully enjoy the experience of feeding him. Did I feel guilty for not breastfeeding him? Of course – and I still do sometimes (especially when people make comments!). But I know that I made the right choice for us and we’re a lot better off because of it. And there’s no question that my little man is positively thriving on his formula – one look at his chubby baby face proves that he is more than healthy.

So, to the rude ladies from this morning - yes, my baby is bottle fed and I’m proud it.

Bring On the Stress

After having Rory, I was certain that nothing could possible be more nerve-wracking in life than having a baby. I was wrong…

During the last several weeks, we have been in the process of buying our very first house. It’s a beautiful home with 3 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms in a gated community chock full of young families with children. It’s absolutely perfect for our little family, but as those of you who live in California know, perfect comes with a pretty high price tag. Where else would you end up paying OVER HALF A MILLION DOLLARS for a simple starter home? Aside from being a parent, it’s the most responsibility either one of us has ever taken on and it’s absolutely terrifying. We just keep telling ourselves that everyone probably feels this way when they buy their first house, right?

And as if having a baby and buying/moving into our first house isn't stressful enough, I've decided to add one more thing to the mix - a new job. I resigned from the job I had as a meeting planner at J.D. Power before my maternity leave was over because Hoby and I decided that we didn't want me to be working 40 hours a week with a 45 minute commute each way. It was just too much time away from Rory each day. Why have a baby if you're just going to put him in child care all day long if you don't have to? But unfortunately, since the health benefits were through my job, I had to find a way to get health insurance while only working part-time.

So you are now looking at the newest employee at Starbucks - the Mothership of Coffee Houses and one of the very few companies who will give you full benefits for your whole family working only 20 hours a week. Not exactly where I pictured myself ending up, but you've gotta do what you've gotta do, right? And Starbucks always seems like it has a hip, fun atmosphere, and after being home with a baby for three months straight, that definitely has a certain appeal. I just wish I didn't have to start two weeks before we move - but since we need the benefits to kick in as soon as possible, we just couldn't wait.

At least I'll be getting free coffee, right? 'Cause I'm sure gonna need it!

The Only Way I Can Have My Hands Free To Type...

A Hot Date

Our good friends, Sara and Dan Cameron, had a cute baby girl last month named Avery. Since there have been so many other little boys born recently in our circle of friends, we decided that we'd better grab Avery for Rory quick before someone else did! So the day Avery was born, Hoby had a shirt made for Dan that said "Rory's Father In-Law", which definitely gave us some points, don't ya think?

Here's the two of them together on their "hot date" this past Friday night...

EUREKA!

Well folks, it's official - after a week or two of watching Rory punch himself in the face repeatedly as he tried to coordinate getting his fist in his mouth, they finally connected!



So now not only do we have serious drool going on because he's teething (yes, my "super advanced" son is teething at 3 months! Thank GOD I'm not breastfeeding - ouch!), but he is now smearing the slobber all over his face as shoves his new found friend in his mouth every chance he gets.

Even though I am now completely covered in baby drool within minutes of picking up my son, I'm jumping for joy over this new milestone because perhaps it will mean that Rory, King of the Fussy Babies, can finally entertain HIMSELF for a blessed minute or two. And for that, my friends, I'd SWIM in slobber if I had to.

I kid you not.

Playing Catch Up

Yes, I realize that it’s been awhile (okay, a LONG while!) since I’ve written, but I have a pretty good excuse! My son, Rory Anderson Pearce, was born on March 10th via c-section after 10 hours of labor weighing 7 lbs 6 ozs. He had a surprisingly full head of hair considering the fact that his father is somewhat folically challenged, big blue eyes, and enormous feet that completely explained why I always felt like his toes were jammed up under my ribs (because they WERE!). Basically, he was the cutest baby ever – not that we’re biased or anything – and his father and I still don’t quite understand how this adorable little being came from the two of us!



Obviously a lot has happened in the past 10 weeks, and I promise that when I have more time, I will fill you in on my labor story, my losing battle with breast feeding, and the endless hours I’ve spent trying everything to calm the fussiest baby in the universe. But I realized that if I kept putting off writing in my blog because I have so much catching up to do, I might never start up again. And I know I’d hate myself if I missed out on documenting the biggest adventure and the most difficult challenge of my life so far – being Rory’s mom. So here goes nothing…




Today Rory spent an entire hour playing with his new favorite toy – a helium balloon. And considering that the average attention span of my figity son is typically 5-10 minutes, one whole hour is something of a miracle. Basically, I tie the string to his wrist, and as he flails his arm up and down (which he’s constantly doing anyway), the balloon dances around his head and voila – my extremely high maintenance son is provided with instant entertainment! And for a tired mama, that’s a wonderful thing.

Rory is one of those babies who needs to be amused and entertained 24/7, so we have to have a whole arsenal of toys and activities ready at any given moment. Because when Rory get’s bored, the whole world hears about it in the form of siren-like screaming – and let me tell you, my kid has one powerful set of lungs. Currently my bag of tricks includes:

- a Fisher Price Ocean Wonders Bouncy Seat (affectionately referred to as "Fish TV")

- a kitty mobile above his changing table that we’ve named the Bad Larry’s (Each kitty makes a different sound, so they’ve been named Jingle Larry, Rattle Larry, and Squeaky Larry). I have NO idea why, but somehow the names have stuck and Rory seems to get a kick out of them.

- an exercise ball that we bounce on CONSTANTLY because no one can bounce on their own forever

Currently, my life consists of rotating between these things ALL DAY LONG, so you can see why the addition of the balloon is so exciting. And as a stay-at-home mom right now, a little variety goes a LONG way.

Maternity Leave Monday

36 Weeks

Finally, it's the day I've been day dreaming about since I first told my employer that I was was pregnant - my maternity leave has officially begun! No more getting up at the crack of dawn and fighting an hours worth of traffic all the way to work. No more staring at the clock on my computer and praying that 5 o'clock comes quickly. No more,no more, no more! Hurray!

Ah,the things I will do with my oodles of free time! Finish getting the nursery ready, give the house a really good cleaning, do some little craft projects for the baby's room, write more often in my blog - I have a list a mile long of things I've been wanting to do but haven't had the time for. Of course, I'm probably fooling myself by thinking that I'm going to get all of these things done before Rory makes his appearance. Part of my brain - obviously the more RATIONAL part - is just starting to realize that my free time is quickly starting to come to end and that in a few short weeks, my entire life is going to be consumed by a little person who requires my full attention 24 hours a day. Yikes!

At my last doctor's appointment on Friday, I was already 30% effaced, although I haven't started to dilate yet, and the doc thinks that it will only be another two to three weeks. TWO TO THREE WEEKS, PEOPLE! That's barely any time at all! I'm torn between being relieved that this pregnancy is almost over and being terrified that my life is about to change FOREVER...there's no stopping it now!

Pee, Pee and Pee Some More

I just thought the world should know, I've peed EIGHTEEN TIMES today - and it's only 3pm!

Ain't pregnancy great?

Graceful as a Hippo

I did an amazingly stupid and embarrassing thing today - I walked right into a locked bathroom stall door. HARD. The whole stall shook and the bathroom echoed with the loud OOOOMPH sound I made as my enormous belly hit the door. And to make matters worse, the stall was OCCUPIED! I must have scared that poor woman to death! I turned around and high-tailed it out of that bathroom faster than any waddling woman should be able to move so I could go hide at my desk. I didn't see who was in the stall - and hopefully, she didn't see me either! - But I'm sure she's got a good story to tell now, too!

I think I've officially entered into the clumsy, airhead phase of this pregnancy.

Lucky me.

Are You Ready for This Belly?

33 Weeks

Long, Long Days

I am having a major problem. I keep running out of things to do at work when there are still HOURS left in the day. Yes, I’ve been a good little worker bee and I’ve consistently asked my boss for more work, but she never seems to have anything extra for me to do. (I think she has insecurity issues and has a problem letting other people do things for her. If she wants to work twice as hard while I have nothing to do, well, that’s her choice, I guess!). I’ve tried to find things to keep myself busy – re-filing my papers, cleaning my desk, disinfecting my workstation, catching up on the news online, taking walks around the building – but you can only do these things so much before you start to go a little bit stir crazy.  And considering that my work has Web Sense so I can’t surf the internet, I quite literally have NOTHING TO DO for HOURS AT A TIME.  Do you know how long the days last when you’re staring at the clock? It’s pure TORTURE.  Right now it’s only 1pm on a Friday afternoon and I have four more hours stretching out in front of me until I can officially go home. FOUR LONG HOURS. 

 

HELP!!!!!

 

Sickness and Pregnancy Don't Mix

Week 31

In case anyone one has been wondering why I've fallen off the face of the Earth lately, it's because I have been sick. Not just a little sick, mind you, but full blown, knocked flat on my ass sick. What started out as a little cold ended up morphing into bronchitis and a sinus infection (at least that's the latest diagnosis) and when you're pregnant, there are very few medications that you can take. I'm coughing constantly, my eyes are watering like Niagra Falls, and I haven't been able to take a breath through my nose in over a week. Do I sound fun to be around or what?

Did I also mention that I was sick on New Year's Eve? How wrong is that? I had been all excited about a party that we were invited to - I had really wanted to whoop it up for our last New Year's "without children". But instead of getting dressed up and socializing with friends, I ended up in my pajamas watching the ball drop on TV through a mountain of dirty tissues. Sigh, it just ain't right.

Okay, that's all for my pity party. Hopefully next week will be better...

Christmas in Mariposa - Part One

Ah, Christmas Day.

It doesn't get much better than watching my little neice and nephew, Marin and Joaquin, open their Christmas presents...





Or eating all the delicious food that my in-laws cooked for all twenty of us without even batting an eyelash (yes, that was TWENTY!):



Or driving through Yosemite National Park on a beautiful winter's day:




Yup, life is GOOD.

A Taste of What's to Come

Saturday, my friend Holley and I headed out the door in the morning to have a "Girls Day Out" and to hit the stores one last time in search of Christmas presents. We knew the stores were going to be crowded, but we were really excited because someone had lent us their handicap parking placard, meaning that we could park RIGHT IN FRONT of almost any store we wanted. How COOL is that?! (I know this seems a little bit evil, but since my back DOES hurt like hell on a fairly regular basis, I was able to rationalize any guilty feelings I may have had and decided to just enjoy it.)

The first thing we did was hit the infamous McDonald's (you know, the one place I'm not allowed to go), and get a Fruit and Yogurt Parfait for breakfast. (I was proud of my fairly healthy choice, considering the other grease laden options available to me.) Then, we took deep breaths and charged into Target, the first store on our list, with fierce determination. It has just opened, but it was already filled to the brim with shoppers practically running each other over with carts full of Christmas crap. Ah, the Spirit of the Season! As I was waddling down one of the aisles trying to elbow my way into the toy section, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my stomach.Hmmmm, I thought, that Fruit and Yogurt Parfait isn't agreeing with me. I guess that's my punishment for sneaking off to the evil Golden Arches.

Fast forward to 20 minutes later and I'm hunched over my shopping cart trying to breathe through the pain that's ripping through my abdomen. I was trying to act like nothing was wrong, but it was getting really hard and inside I was starting to freak out. I mean, what if I was in LABOR?! Dear God! I'm not ready for this yet! We don't even have a crib, or any baby clothes - I haven't even taken Lamaze class yet! I don't know how to BREATHE!!

I finally gave up on appearing to be calm and I sat down on the floor, right in the middle of the toy department. (And while I was down there trying to distract myself, I actually found some nifty gifts for Holley's nieces on the bottom shelf - go figure!) Once the pain had subsided enough for me to get up, we went through the checkout as quickly as possible (I couldn't let the shopping excursion be a TOTAL waste) and then, evil or not, thank goodness we were parked in the handicap spot close by! I called Hoby to let him know what was up and as soon as I got home, he got me out of the car and into bed, lecturing me all the while on the wickedness of McDonald's food and how it had probably made me go into labor. Uh, yeah, right. Thankfully, as soon as I was lying down, the pain started to go away.

And then, as quickly as it started, it was GONE. I was SO relieved! After calling a few people and reading some of my pregnancy books, we finally realized that I had just had my first run in with "False Labor". Somehow, I had never thought that Braxton Hicks contractions were painful - I just thought my stomach muscles would tighten up a few times and that would be the end of it. Shows what I know, eh? Let's just hope I don't have too many more of these "practice runs" - I was NOT enjoying myself one bit. And I know this is probably small potatoes compared to the real thing! If this is a taste of what's to come, then I'm not ashamed in the least to say that Mr. Epidural Man is going to become my new best friend!

Hoby made me spend the rest of the day with my feet up in bed. He went out and got some DVDs for us to watch and guess what he brought home? Super Size Me - a movie all about the evilness of McDonald's food. Ah, my husband, you've just gotta love him!

My Husband, The Cook

Since I've been pregnant, Hoby has been wonderful about cooking dinner.  He gets home before me most nights, so he usually has something ready by the time I walk in the door. And to a pregnant woman, walking in and being handed a hot meal at the end of a long day is as close to heaven as it gets. 

 

He wasn't always this eager to help out in the kitchen, however.  One night (before I was pregnant and when I was still doing most of the cooking), I knew that I was going to be late getting home, so I called Hoby and asked him to cook the chicken I had left defrosting in the fridge.  He told me that he wasn't sure how to prepare it, but I assured him that he had cooked chicken long before I ever came into the picture, so I was sure that he would think of something.

 

Well, about an hour later, I walk in the door completely starving and the first thing I notice is that I don't smell anything cooking. So I say to Hoby "What happened to the chicken?", and he says,  "Well, how about we go to McDonalds instead?"  (Side note: I'm ashamed to admit it, but I LOVE McDonald's Filet-O-Fish sandwiches and Hoby hates it when I eat McDonalds, so for him to say this was a BIG deal.) So of course, I jump at the chance and off we go.

 

Once we get there, I run up to the counter to order my precious Filet-O-Fish sandwich before he can change his mind, and when I'm finished, I turn to him and say "So what are you having?" and he says, "Nothing, I made myself a chicken sandwich at the house." 

 

Uh, WHAT???? YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

 

Yes, folks, it's true. He managed to make himself a chicken sandwich but somehow couldn't manage to make me dinner, too.  I spent about 5 minutes trying to explain why this was just plain WRONG, and then, well, at least I got a Filet-O-Fish sandwich out of it! 

 

I like the way he is now MUCH better. (I love ya, honey!)