I have seven friends who have had babies in the past two months and thinking of all of them, and talking with a few of them has made me so reflective of those first few weeks with a newborn. Ivar is now 8 months old, and I honestly never would have believed how different every single month would be. What I remember is that during those first two or three or four months life is still so fragile, people’s germs are offensive, sleep is light and constantly interrupted and everything is new and awkward and exhausting.
Of course it’s all wonderful and tiny and precious too. I think I tended to write more on this blog focusing on the sweet, delightful moments.
But I just want to throw this out there for the new mamas out there whose boobs are sore, eyes are droopy and patience is shot: be good to yourself. Those first three months are really crazy. Nursing a baby with no head control and spazzy limbs is difficult. It gets easier when the baby grows a bit and can literally crane his head to help out. Figuring out how to change your baby’s diaper in a public restroom with no changing table is tricky. Once winter started to thaw our car became sort of a nursery on wheels and we found the back seat was great for changing poopie diapers and for nursing.
I was getting my hair cut today and had a flashback of me nursing Ivar on the toilet in the Juut Salon in Edina. While nursing him on that toilet he fell asleep and I remember feeling so grateful that he would sleep through my haircut. Until I stood up. Then the automatic flusher woke my son. As I remembered this I kept thinking, “why on earth did I bring Ivar to a hair appointment?!!” And you know, there is no good reason. I think I was just that desperate to get out of the house that day.
All this to say, as I sat in the waiting area today, drinking my cucumber water and flipping through a Bazaar magazine I realized that everything has gotten easier because babies get easier. Or maybe it’s just that I figured out what I was doing (and figured out that it is best not to bring Ivar to my hair appointments). But as the baby grows up there are so many helpful changes that just make life more doable. Huge milestones changed the way I planned my day to day. Suddenly Ivar could go for much longer between feedings and then he started eating cereal which seems to really stick to his ribs. He also can sit up on his own so that I can leave him in his crib playing with toys or on a blanket on our bedroom floor and he can entertain himself while I do my own thing. Now every baby is different, but I still don’t think I realized that this season was ahead when he was just a tiny peanut with skinny legs. (I know he'll be mobile soon. Don't rain on my parade...)
More than anything, just know that it goes so stinking fast. I can’t believe he is already 8 months and I can’t believe his thighs have tripled in size. Eventually you will begin to relax more and enjoy better, quality sleep. Eventually you will start to feel qualified to take a trip to Target and not end up in tears crying with your baby by the time you get back to your car. Eventually your little babe will affirm you with the sweetest thank-you you’ve ever heard, crying “MMMmmmmm” when he wants you. And only you will do, because you’re the one who gets up at night, runs back in the house for the umpteenth time to grab the diaper bag, ends up as soaking wet as the baby you are bathing in the sink, finds poop on your knuckles hours after you changed that diaper, and walks in endless circles while bouncing and singing.
You can do it. You’re the mama.
Every day of this reunion was a different holiday, and Tuesday was Christmas. We acted out the nativity story, as we do every Christmastime...but not all of the family is able to gather each December so this was a really big cast. This was a special year too...we had a two Mary's, two Joseph's, two Baby Jesus', a chicken, a pig and a mosquito.
To celebrate the 4th of July, our family had our own parade. Grandma was the GRANDMArshal and led the way. Everyone was in the parade. The back of the line started first, and the family standing in line got to cheer them on, then when they made it to the front of the family, they took their places along the path to cheer for the family that had just watched them. Does that make sense? It was a pretty great plan and worked so well the first time that grandma ran the whole parade through a second time :)
We began our family reunion with alaskan salmon for 100. That's a great way to start a party. My uncle Wayne catches the fish, ships it and grills it for all of our family gatherings and it is as good as it gets.
My cousin Elsa presented Grandma with the gift of all gifts, a story book that Elsa wrote and illustrated based on The Miracle Moth story that has been told and retold many, many times in our family. For me, this was the highlight of the party. You can see how pleased Grandma was when she opened it, and Elsa filled every page with her stunning art. It is glorious.
This is me and my grandma and grandpa bredberg, standing in front of this cabin in 1987. I was six years old. Twenty four years later I am still in love with this special place, Mount Carmel, with its one mission: to pass on a living faith in Jesus to the next generation.
We just returned from a week of family togetherness to celebrate my Grandma Bredberg's 93rd birthday. She foot the bill for another family reunion, flying in family from Alaska, Washington, Kentucky and New York. There were just under a hundred of us gathered and it was one serious party. Since Grandma doesn't get to celebrate each holiday with her whole family throughout the year, she had the grand idea of celebrating as many holidays as we could while we were together: Sunday was her Birthday, Monday was Independence Day, Tuesday was Christmas, Wednesday was Easter and Thursday was Thanksgiving.
Super easy, super cute. I want to make a series of these now for our garden labeling what is where. The other side has a fabric heart stuck on it with modge podge. Lots of possibilities for this project, found here.
Number Twenty Seven: Josie Groves and how much she loves Ivar (and how much Ivar loves her.)
I have seven friends who have had babies in the past two months and thinking of all of them, and talking with a few of them has made me so reflective of those first few weeks with a newborn. Ivar is now 8 months old, and I honestly never would have believed how different every single month would be. What I remember is that during those first two or three or four months life is still so fragile, people’s germs are offensive, sleep is light and constantly interrupted and everything is new and awkward and exhausting.
On Saturday we took a family field trip to Murphy's Landing. It is a historical village with actors living out life in Minnesota in the 1890's (I just typed 1980's at first. Now wouldn't that be a funny village to visit! Ha!) We had a great time. We're trying to take more 'local vacations' this summer...being a tourist in our own town. And this was a perfect day adventure.
A life-in-motion museum like this is so great for gaining perspective. We saw this bedroom that would sleep a mom and dad and 3-4 kids and suddenly, our two bedroom house seemed huge. For sure we could fit a few more kids of our own in our little home.
Ivar was a sport, as always.
In every house we visited, the women were baking something incredible. It was a terrible tease, actually, because they couldn't share. Strawberry pie in one house, cinnamon rolls in another and doughnuts in another. And something crazy happened. To watch these women bake using one bowl and one spoon in an oven heated by fire made us wonder why recipes have become so complicated. The woman making doughnuts made it look so, so easy. And so simple.
