moosh in indy.

So I took Addie to Lagoon yesterday.

For those of you not familiar with Utah, Lagoon is Utah’s local version of Six Flags or Knott’s Berry Farm, but watered down. Much like Utah beer.

I grew up going to Lagoon at least once a year so being able to take my little kid? YAY! FUN!

In true Gramma Addie fashion she declared “NO UPSIDE DOWN FUNNY BUSINESS!”

I however had a different plan and snuck her onto TOTAL upside down ride before she had the chance to realize it went upside down.

The little girl giggled so hard she almost fell out of her chair.

SUCCESS!

Cody told me that if we were going to be spending the money to go I’d better get her on some bigger rides, none of this sissy baby ride business.

I figured since the first upside down ride went so well that Addie was a super tough roller coaster lady and we were going to have so! much! fun! So I set my eyes and first born on Colossus.

Again, for those of you unfamiliar with Lagoon, Colossus was the biggest rollercoaster back in the day. A big drop and two loops. Upside down loops.

Addie saw it, looked at me and gave me a look.

I responded with “YAY! FUN! ROLLERCOASTERS!! WHEE!!!”

Her look didn’t change, and it certainly wasn’t a “YAY! FUN! ROLLERCOASTERS!! WHEE!!!” look.

She was being such a brave soul I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t brave enough to go on Colossus until I was 14 and even then I only went on it to impress a boy.

We strapped in, she grabbed my hand so hard I lost feeling in my fingers.

The whole way up I kept saying “YAY! FUN! YYAAAYYYY!”

Her look didn’t change.

That is until it changed to fear.

And then crying.

Whoops.

By the time it was over I was seated next to a sobbing pile of “BOO ROLLERCOASTERS WORST! MOM! EVER!” Addie.

Thankfully all I had to do to change her mind about life was go on a ride where the centrifugal force landed her in my armpit and back into fits of giggles.

Sure she was tall enough according to the ruler to go on Colossus, but I began to wonder who thought up these height rules. So I went on a ride called Wicked which according to the ruler Addie was tall enough to go on but I decided to try it out before getting Addie on it.

Had Addie gone on this so called Wicked ride her brain would have been rattled loose and any chance she had at a college scholarship would have been shot. As soon as I shot up over the first hill my brain screamed at me “YOU’RE OLD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” Then it started going over just how many chiropractic appointments it was going to take to undo what this thing had just done to me.

Never would I have taken Addie on that thing.

Then again when I got home Cody said “I DIDN’T EXPECT YOU TO PUT HER ON COLOSSUS!”

Sheesh.

Parents of short humans? Height restrictions on rollercoasters are crap. Try them yourself first and if your butt puckers at all? Keep your kids off them.

You know, unless you like watching your kids cry and giving them nightmares.

We spent the remainder of the day on much calmer rides, many of which spun. Which led my brain to spin, again causing it to scream “YOU’RE OLD!” It took a Zofran (thanks pregnancy!) and an hour under a shady tree looking like a recovering alcoholic to be able to stand upright again.

Oh we had fun. So much fun. Her sensible youth balanced out my easily nauseated old age and we skipped through that park and showed it who was boss. Addie declared it the BEST! DAY! EVER! and the declaration stuck until she got to Grandma’s house and got to play in the pool with her cousins.

I sometimes wonder what life would be like when any day could suddenly become the BEST! DAY! EVER! at a moment’s notice. Seems to work out for Addie pretty well.

Most amazing wedding ever.

Congratulations Parker and Brooke.

xoxo-us.

So the brilliant irony of my life is that after almost 6 years of trying to get pregnant and finally succeeding? Is that I now have to be on birth control. (So I don’t HAVE to be, but let’s be honest, with the way I do pregnancy? It’s better if I don’t do that again anytime soon and celibacy sucks (unless you’re a teenager, than it’s team celibacy all the way!!.))

I’ve never been on birth control for longer than 2 months because it only takes about one month for it to turn me an insufferable human being. So I’m trying some newfangled one that is supposed to keep the crazy lady tendencies to a minimum. I already don’t like it. And I can assure you that 70% of me not liking it is the mental aspect of going from being so mad at my body for not getting pregnant easier to now telling it not to get pregnant on purpose.

Anybody with me on that one?

It also gives me headaches. To which Cody replied “Hey! You have a headache? It’s working already!”

To say I have anything less than a lovely existence would be an absolute lie.

Happy Father’s Day hunka, I’m glad you’re my ladies’ daddy.

And to my daddy?

I’m glad you’re my ladies’ grandpa and my poppa.

“There is only one beautiful baby in the world, and every mother has it.” -Chinese Proverb

“There are lots of beautiful babies in the world, but mine is totally the nummiest.”

-moosh in indy proverb

And with that I have officially become one of those people who is completely obsessed with their baby, which is really good news because as of July 1st I will be writing about life with that little chubby face up there every day on Babble’s Baby’s First Year blog. (!!!)

Happy weekend!

So…Cody and I have been married for 10 years.

I had my six week postpartum appointment yesterday so technically…this could be an anniversary to remember.

Either because I end up pregnant when the birth control I started today doesn’t work or I end up a shouty crying headachey mess when the birth control I started today works a little too well.

But let’s be honest. When you have a 10 year anniversary 6 weeks after having a baby? The only hot and heavy in our house is going to be our heavy bodies falling asleep in our hot bedroom at 8 pm.

WHOO! TRUE LOVE!

I feel like I should write some sappy love post about how in love I am with the daddy of my ladies, but I’m past sappy and just plain in love with every part of him. Even the really sweaty sometimes stinky parts that make my laundry basket smell like a locker room.

Happy anniversary hunka.

Loce you lots.

Sometimes you open photos on your computer and they take your breath away.

I can’t believe how blessed/lucky/happy I am.

I am beginning to realize that for me, breastfeeding is not about nourishing my baby’s belly with my body. It would be very easy to look back over the last five weeks and think about all the supposed time wasted on futile attempts to gain a full and abundant milk supply but it’s become apparent over these furiously fast yet long weeks that this difficulty is in fact a blessing.

Because of my difficulties with nursing, Vivi has rarely left my arms, let alone the house. This has forced me to literally sit down and focus on what is most important, her. I’m so thankful I’ve had the support to give her what milk I have been able to produce, not to mention the time and ability to give it to her. I have spent hours staring at her, memorizing every flutter of her eyelashes and every curve of her face. I have spent even more time with her curled up in my arms, breathing in every part of her deliciousness.

Many people seem to get so caught up in the breast vs. bottle debate they forget about the actual act of feeding.

It hurts my heart to see a baby being pushed around in a stroller with a bottle propped up in its mouth.

They are only this little for such a small time, and if someone can’t find the time to hold their baby close when they’re eating? When are they making time to memorize their baby’s face, hold their chubby little fingers and watch their eyelids grow heavy with sleep?

Feeding Vivi has become in intimate act no matter how the food is delivered, a time to focus wholly on each other. While the breastfeeding may not last forever, I’m not comfortable in saying that our nursing relationship will ever come to an absolute end. She has always loved nursing the most, as have I. I have been able to comfort her when nothing else has worked. Me. Only me. I could never deny her the comfort that only I am able to give her as long as she will accept me.

It would be (and has been at times) really easy to get angry that something we both enjoy so much has been tainted by forces out of our control. I can’t say that my body completely betrayed me because it is what allowed me to have Vivi in the first place.

Just as it was so easy to get enraged with women who got pregnant easily and those who complain about their condition, it would be easy to become jealous of the women who are able to (fairly) effortlessly breastfeed their babies.

I’m becoming aware that perhaps certain things are supposed to be more difficult for me so that I forced to appreciate them more when and if they do happen for me.

There will always be a little bit if hurt in my heart that I have been unable to nurse Vivi exclusively, but I have been lucky enough to  know all of the very best parts, even if it hasn’t ever worked perfectly. There are women who will never know the feeling of having a baby fall asleep at their breast, or a baby fall asleep in their arms ever.

I am blessed and lucky to know this all encompassing love for a little girl who is completely and utterly dependent on the caring and love that I am responsible and honored to provide her.

She has my whole heart, something that could never be found in either a breast or a bottle.