Where thar is Cruz, thar are Pirates!

It all started with a joke about a pirate, a bar, and a steering wheel.  I'm really not sure if Beau had a love affair with pirates prior to this joke, but after a year or so of perfecting his pirate voice and getting rave reviews of his famous joke, Beau adored all things pirate.  Oftentimes, I would get home from work to find my husband, walking around the house with nothing but an eye patch and a bottle of rum.  Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit.  Beau's brother Gabe did give a toast at our wedding reception that ended with the entire room lifting their glasses and toasting with a great big 'yarrrrr.'  That, I am not making up. 

Ironically, about the time we found out we were having a baby boy, Baby Gap introduced a new line of boy's clothes, complete with skulls, crossbones, and pirate ships.  Other stores soon caught on to the growing trend and before too long, pirates were everywhere.  Williams Sonoma has an entire section of pirate birthday party decor.  We registered for a pirate ship night light at Pottery Barn.  And I just purchased 'A Pirate's Night Before Christmas,' at Barnes and Noble.  One of the first things Beau bought for his son was a little onesie with a skull on the front.  Yes, while little girls Cruz's age are dressed in lacy tights, ruffly dresses, and frilly headbands, our son chills in pirate ships.  He would wear an eye patch if he didn't have trouble focusing with two eyes as is. 

The other day, Cruz wore his first pirate outfit.  Together, we hung out on the living room floor and practiced our pirate talk.  I'd say he has a ways t'go! 

Call me bath lady...

Parenthood is full of surprises, new experiences, lots of change, and most of all, a helluva lot of laughter. 

Since Cruz has been home, I've been waiting on pins and needles to give him his first legit bath.  For the first week, we were instructed to give sponge baths, which although fun, are nothing compared to a cute little whale-shaped tub, warm sudsy water, soft washcloths, and a naked baby.  I have enough Johnson's & Johnson's products to last until our next child is born, and have a zoo of Pottery Barn critter hooded towels folded and ready to go.  A bath before bed, followed by a baby lotion massage, and a cozy blanket cuddle was exactly what I had planned for a peaceful Thursday night.

Or so I thought.

Cruz's first bath experience at home was sheer chaos.  It took us a few tries to get the water at the perfect temperature, Cruz immediately started screaming the minute we stripped him naked, Beau spent the entire time worried Cruz was about to pee on us, and because we failed to screw the legs onto the back of the tub, it kept sliding further and further down the sink, taking Cruz with it each time.  Cruz was crying hysterically.  I'm talking hyperventilating, mouth wide-open, arms and legs desperately kicking, trying to escape the sheer terror of getting his hair washed.  Pretty soon, our new parent nerves turned into laughter, and while Cruz screamed through his first bath, his mommy and daddy snapped pictures and laughed hysterically.  It seems we've been doing a lot of that lately.

After the torture of lotion and pajama time, Beau wrapped his little one up head to toe in blankets and consoled him on the couch.  Every time I walked by, Beau would refer to me as the mean bath lady, holding up Cruz's hand to curse me as I walked by.  He's already trying to plot against me (little does he know that I still have the "milk" advantage).  That night, Cruz slept for five hours straight, the longest he's went without milk since he was born!   

  

Now, every time I feed him, we laugh at the one eye he keeps open at me, skeptically wondering if he's in for another experience with 'bath lady.' 

Yesterday morning, as Beau and I were tag-teaming another diaper change before church, we noticed a funk coming from our little man's belly.  We discovered that his umbilical cord, which was hanging by nothing but a string of dead skin, REEKED!  Although Cruz didn't seem to mind, his father and I were gagging!  The rest of the afternoon, Beau covered his belly with an extra blanket and referred to our son as 'the smelly one.'  After some research, I discovered that I was maybe a little too anxious to give Cruz his first, unwelcomed, bath...as it turns out, his cord isn't exactly supposed to be wet!

Luckily, Cruz only had to deal with being pegged the smelly kid for a day.  During a late night diaper change, I was greeted with a precious little belly button!  No more disgusting umbilical cord...Halleluiah!

Tonight is another bath night.  Let's hope little Cruz enjoys this one a little more.  He either hates being cold, or is proving to be a lot more modest than his parents.  In college, Beau was known for being quite comfortable in his skin, and it turns out, my favorite place to breast feed is directly in front of our picture window.  I think the labor and delivery floor does that to you.

Palm Trees and Pina Coladas (I wish)...

Tonight, I feel like poo.  My belly is huge, my throat hurts, I am experiencing some not-so-great late pregnancy symptoms, and for some reason, my paycheck failed to get deposited in my bank account.  Lovely.  Baby J has been treating me to some crazy like jabs tonight too, as if to say...

LET ME OUT OF HERE!!! 

Tonight, we're both ready for that to happen. 

So what do I do on nights like this?  Nights when I spend 20 minutes laying at the top of the stairs talking to my mom on the phone in the dark?  Nights when I soak in a tub that isn't deep enough to cover the peak of my mountainous belly, which sticks out like Mount Everest amidst the soapy terrain surrounding it?  Nights when my idea of relief is a trip through the McDonalds drive-thru, a fish sandwich, and a vanilla shake? 

I go and sit in Baby J's room, my little escape.  An escape that now sports a new decoration we are quite proud of.

I wanted a palm tree on the wall of the nursery since I first chose the Santa Barbara bedding.  The little surf shack didn't quite seem complete without a little tropical foilage.  How was I going to accomplish this feat?  Well, that was another story...

I may have won 1st place at Allison-Bristow's annual art show three consecutive years in elementary school; however, much has failed to be retained in the sketching, coloring, and shading world.  Although I couldn't fathom spending $120 on the cute Pottery Barn wall decal, I also couldn't fathom spending hours attempting to draw and paint a life-size tree, only to paint over it in failed disgust.  That sounded like way too much work and frustration for my final month of pregnancy. 

Did I know my husband, aka, The Beau-Of-Many-Trades, was an esteemed drawer?  Did I know he successfully took Drawing I and II in high school?  Did I know he had enough patience to draw a palm tree while his pregnant wife sat behind him and critiqued every line?  Once again, he never ceases to amaze me. 
 

He drew the most fabulous palm tree.  Then, with Grandma Kelly's help on Sunday, we brough it to life with four $0.67 tubes of paint from Hobby Lobby.  It reminds me of the palm tree from Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.  I love it.  

He even drew coconuts.  I love the coconuts.  

And I love Baby J.  Even when he stretches every little limb at the same time, reaching four very distinct, uncomfortable parts of my body.  Because I know soon enough, I will dreadfully miss feeling him move his little body inside of mine.  

Happy Fall.  Happy palm tree.  Happy 36th week of pregnancy.   

A Home for Baby J...

Well, as promised, the baby furniture!  It's done, it's beautiful, and it fits in Baby J's little room perfectly.  If you know me well, this was a slight fear of mine.  Beau repeatedly attempted to reassure me; however, as every new piece of furniture was carefully placed in the room, I grew more and more wary of it all fitting.  Once again, I learned to trust and listen to my hubby and his dad.  They're pretty smart...

...and pretty damn talented. 

If it wasn't for the fact that I have been carrying this child for nine months, battling with pelvic pain, heartburn, allergies, weight gain, exhaustion, abnormal sleeping positions, and now, 'kankles,' I'd feel more guilty.  I pulled my share in the creation of our kitchen, traveling with Beau to Hampton to spend hours upon hours sanding every inch of our hickory cabinetry; however, when it came time to build a set of baby furniture, I had the easy part.  My part involved clipping and snipping random pictures of cribs and changing tables, asking Beau to reinvent a combination of three to five different pictures in order to created what I envisioned as the perfect product.  What started with a couple Pottery Barn catalogs, some sticky note diagrams, and a lot of imagination, turned into a set of furniture that will serve as history pieces in our family for generations. 

Thank you, husband, for your patience, your hard work, and your desire to build something really special for our baby.  Thank you for creating Excel files to help me 'visualize,' for following me to Peek a Boo Baby to survey their cribs, and for wanting everything just right.  Baby J will look so sweet sleeping in his new bed.

Thank you, Grandpa Ray, for helping us both bring our vision to life.  Thank you for the hours you spent configuring and reconfiguring, for your constant, we-can-do-thats and no-problems, and for not killing my bedskirt during 'surgery.'  Thank you for building me a dresser big enough for lots of shopping trips and a tornado shelter that will keep us safe in any storm. 

Assembly Day:  August 15, 2010...approximately seven weeks from D-Day!

Again... a little nervous...