Introducing Baby

One of the things I find annoying when we go out as a family and people see three older girls and a baby boy, they assume that we were trying for a boy. Then they actually have the gumption to say it to us! Good grief people! I have an uncle that did that-- Told the wife that he wanted a son and they kept having girl after girl after girl. He finally quit trying after the 5Th girl and the doctor said the wife could have no more babies. We were perfectly happy with our girls. We did not have another baby to try for a boy. We had an oopsie!

Funny thing, when it came time to pick a name for the baby, all we could think of was names for boys and we drew blanks for girl names. So imagine our surprise when we had a sonogram and found out it was a boy! huh. Following our tendency for old-fashioned names, we came up with Angus; which got shot down when more than one person asked why we were naming him after a bull. Then we came up with Griffith/Griffin (couldn't decide which) and several people waned to know why we were naming him after a mystical creature and we must be Harry Potter fans. pfft! Then we liked the name Jack until we found out it was on the most popular boys' name list. Nix that.

All of the girls have middle names after one of their grandmothers, so we wanted to keep that going for Baby. Lucky for my Dad, his middle name is our last name, so all of our kids carry his middle name. Then Andrew made a suggestion that we just thought was perfect! His granddaddy's nickname was Pete even though it is nothing like his real name. When someone called Pete by his real name, Grandma Helen had no clue who they were talking about-- though it was her own husband! I asked, but no one really knows why he was called Pete, but in Grandma Helen's personal effects, is an old black and white photo of Grandaddy and written on the front is "Handsome Pete". So we named him...


Peter! He can be quite the little monster!


After having 3 girls, it is absolutely amazing to see the difference in raising a boy! He has way more toughness than the girls did and he is much more rough than the girls are. He has head-butted me and dang, it hurt, too! I am pining for the all the safety equipment that we got rid of before Peter was born. I refuse to spend more money on buying door latches and gates all over again, which is partly why I am constantly on my toes keeping after Peter! I figured out how to loop a dishtowel through the handles on the cupboards in the kitchen to keep Peter out, but then he just goes after the dog food and water bowl. He gravitates towards any room with lights on, so we have to remember not to leave lights on or else he wreaks havoc in that room. He climbs the table and looks like he has conquered the tallest mountain! The boy simply does not sit still!

I think we all breathe a small sigh of relief when he goes down for his 4-hour nap. The girls can break out their crafty projects, I can relax a little bit and even Grandma comes out of hiding in her apartment to join us for the afternoon activities.


He is such a happy boy. He is definitely a mama's boy, preferring me over Daddy, but that's just cause I baby him a little bit. We aren't planning on any more kids, so I know he'll be my last baby and I am cherishing every moment I can get. He hugs back now and I love when he puts his arms around my neck and squeezes hard. *melt melt melt!*

He's a tosser! He likes to pick things up, throw it, pick it up and throw it again! Not so bad when it's something soft like a teddy bear, but when it's a hard toy that could break or break something, it becomes an issue. We have really narrowed down the toys available for him to play with because of that, which makes it much easier to keep the house clean, so no complaints from me. :o) At 18 months old, he doesn't really talk yet, but we have heard him say a few words: mama, woof-woof, daddy, to name a few. He signs more words, so he knows how to make himself understood. He signs words like: more, milk, hungry, bath, full, all done...


He is a really good baby, easy to please and when he isn't being a little monster, fun to be around. If you point at the dog, he'll woof-woof. If he sees the cat, he'll make a bee-line for it. When I take him with me to the chicken coop, he delights in seeing the chickens up close. When I pass in front of a mirror with him in my arms, he laughs at our image and claps his hands. He has all of Daddy's ticklish spots and I love to hear his laugh. When he is quiet and rests his head on my chest, I love to smell his soft hair and hold him close.

I never imagined having a boy after 3 girls, and now I cannot imagine a life without him. Evelyn, Gretchen, Sylvia and Peter make our family complete.
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Let's Hear It For The Boy

Sorry for the disappearance.. Baby has really been keeping us hopping! Of the 4 kids, he has the most curiosity and is more determined to get into things that he is not supposed to get into!

On Saturday, the Husband had to take my Mom to the halfway point so my Uncle could take her back to their place, then he went to work afterwards, which meant I was home with the kids, alone, from 9 in the morning until their bedtime at 9 at night. I was B.U.S.H.E.D! At one point, I think I cried in frustration, which prompted Oldest to include me in her dinner-time blessings and she asked God to help me feel better. Yeah, it was that tough!

If I forget to lash the cabinet doors, Baby opens and climbs in or pulls out all my pots and pans. Not so bad this cabinet, but the other one, he has broken my vintage melamine bowl (karma- I broke my mom's when I was little), pulled out the very sharp and very dangerous mandolin slicer and used it as a banging toy (ack!) and pulls out all the mixing bowls and piles them high in wobbly towers.

He broke a vintage christmas glass I had, and being deaf, I didn't hear the tinkling of broken glass, so I didn't know until I saw him with a bloody cut on his nose and leg. When I investigated, I found the broken glass.

He has discovered the cat's litter box and I have found him no less than 5 times with his hands in the litter so that we now keep the door to the room, where the litter box is, shut. Poor cat gets locked in there, too, but he has his food in there also, so not so bad for the cat really.


We have started to bungee cord the chairs to the table because he has learned to climb the chair, then climb the table where he proceeds to table dance, grab stuff and toss it off and just grins from ear to ear!

I had a moment where I didn't see him and the girls found him behind the couch with a fistful of markers, coloring the floor, the couch cushions, his mouth and hands.

He has gotten into the puzzle cabinet and there are at least 6 puzzles now mixed together and in the other half of the cabinet is where I keep my balls of fabric strips that I've sewn together and, like a cat, has rolled them all around the room, unraveling them as they roll.

**Deep breath**

**Let it out slowly**

I don't know if it's because he is a boy or if this is just his nature, but at this rate, all the doors to all the rooms will be kept shut, the cabinet doors will be glued, and the shelves and tabletops cleared! I cannot steal away time to myself because he gets into things and he is so quick about it, too! I used to be able to lure him into the living room then dash down the hall and he would take a few minutes to catch up to me, but now? I tried that today, and when I turned around, I nearly fell over him, he was right there behind me!

When the Husband leaves for work, he always tells me to, "Call me if you need me." And my response is now: "Where's the phone?!" I'm only half joking. I look forward to Baby's afternoon nap time, that's when I can relax a little and not worry about where he is or what he might be getting into. At least he hasn't figured out how to climb out of the crib...yet.

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Chickens and Turtles

I still have the Box Turtle. I was told to soak the turtle in warm water, as it was likely dehydrated, and when they are dehydrated, I've learned, that their eyes swell shut. I suppose that is a body mechanism to keep their eyes from drying out. Since soaking the turtle in water for a couple of days, it's eyes are starting to open!

The right eye is still not all the way open, but the left eye seems to be fine. He can definitely see my hand come down and he flinches and moves away. His color seems brighter, too, so it gives me hope that the little guy (or girl?) will be alright.

I'm still waiting to hear from a turtle rehabber, to find out what I can do to help it. Since it's soon winter here, the turtle should be getting ready for the long sleep.. so it's likely that they'll take him over the winter, and if he gets better, they'll return him here, back to his home area.

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From all accounts I've read.. online, bloggers, books; I was under the impression that 6 hens will give me, on average, 5 to 6 eggs daily. If I was lucky, I was getting 2 or 3 per day, sometimes, nothing. I worried that maybe they were laying in the woods and I'd have to put up a fence to pen them in.

exposed!

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Then one day, Youngest came running with an egg in her hand. She said she found it in the pole barn. I asked her to show me exactly where, and turns out, they are laying eggs under the tarp that covers the log splitter. Ah-ha! That first day we found them, there were 5 eggs there! Since then, we are averaging 4 eggs daily. That's more like it! Some days we get 5, but usually it's 4 and I'm happy with that.

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After I wrote my last post about making pants for Baby from an old sweat jacket, my sister sent me a box of clothes from her baby boy! What an unexpected surprise in the mail today. Thanks Sis!! :o) Lots of nice warm clothes for Baby to wear in there!
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(Thanks for all the wonderful comments and compliments on the recycled baby pants, by the way! The idea did come from Amanda Soule's book, I borrowed it from the Library when it first came out and she used the bottom of a t-shirt to make shorts for the kiddies. My version is using the sleeves for pants. These will work as pants for baby legs, but probably not for kids 2 years and up.)
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Make Your Own Baby Pants!

Baby needs pants. I don't have a whole lot of hand-me-downs for him, considering I have 3 girls ahead of him. So unless I want to put him in dresses, I needed to do something about his lack of pants. I am currently making sure that every load I wash, I have one of his 4 pairs of pants in there. This is getting tedious, I don't like having to wash all the time, and he is about to out-grow 2 of the pants.

What to do, what to do?? Then I remembered seeing somewhere in blog-land, someone taking an adult shirt and turning it into shorts for the kiddies (if someone knows which blog that was, please send me the link!). I figured I have enough sewing know-how to do it on my own.

I have this old sweat-jacket that's too small for the husband and it's just taking up space in here-- perfect for little jogging pants for Baby!

Cut the sleeves off at the seam. I am using Baby's jogging pants for sizing. I cut down on one side of each arm about 10 inches from the top. This will be where I sew them together to attach the legs and make a front and back. Pin right sides together all the way from front to back, then sew.
Here it is, all sewn together. I folded about 1 1/2 inches down around the waist and sewed all the way around, leave a seam open for the elastic. Thread elastic through then sew seam closed.

Ta-dah!! Pretty good job, if I may say so!

Fits Baby perfectly! You'd never know these were from old sleeves unless you took a closer look! I am already looking around for more old shirts to make more pants for Baby! I get to recycle stuff we have and keep from spending money on items that Baby won't wear that long anyway! Now he has warm legs and I have money in my wallet-- everybody is happy! :o)

Lost...

I've been lost in my little world,

drowning in a sea of apple peels,

and surrounded by little (not so green) men.

Since I last posted, I have made and canned 25 pints of various jams

and made 27 quarts of applesauce.

I also just turned thirty-six.

Mom was here for a few days, she called in sick to play hooky with us.

She puzzled over puzzles with the kids, while I busily worked in the kitchen.

We took her to the halfway point to meet Uncle who then took her back to their house.

We hit the thrift shops and came home,

only to discover that she forgot her car keys and my dear, sweet Husband

drove 2 1/2 hours, one way, at 8 o'clock at night, to drop her keys off at her work

and did not come back home until after 1 am.

Thanks Honey!

My son, my Baby, is making up for being the bestest, sweetest baby ever!

He is getting into EVERYTHING!

Nothing is safe.

He has broken several dishes and glasses;

ripped countless pages of magazines, books and newspapers;

dumped the dogs' water bowl too many times to count;

climbs furniture only to get himself stuck at the top;

wreaks havoc in my pantry if I happen to leave the door open;

and loves splashing in the toilet water.

His redeeming feature?

He's so dang cute while doing it!

It's a good life here, in my little world.
I don't mind getting lost,
as long as I am surrounded by the ones I love.

Downside to Preserving One's Own Food

There is a downside to growing and preserving your own food.

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It's not the time-consuming practice of tilling the soil, planting the seeds, or weeding the garden.

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It's not the time-consuming business of preparing the fruit or vegetable, chopping or smashing, then heating to the right temps then filling jar after jar of hot ingredients, heating up the kitchen and ending up with rows of preserved foods.

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It's not the continuous slicing of vegetables or fruits and laying them in neat rows in the dehydrator and then waiting hours for it to dry before starting another batch.

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That's the fun part!

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The downside is: You run out of something before you are able to make more and have to *gulp!* buy a supplement from the store and then becoming sincerely disappointed with both the quality and the taste.

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I canned 57 quarts of applesauce last Fall. The most I've ever canned. I gave away 5 quarts. Left us with 52 quarts. I thought it would have been plenty, but I didn't factor in the amount that Baby would consume when he started on solid foods. Every morning, I mixed applesauce with a bit of oatmeal and fed him that for breakfast. I used up the last quart last week, so I bought a quart from the store.

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Ugh! Nothing like my thick, cinnamon-flavored applesauce. How can they call that applesauce?! It was watery and runny and more like apple juice with pulp. Even Baby noticed the difference because no matter what I do to the sauce-- add more oatmeal, add cinnamon, add a touch of brown sugar, heat it up, serve it chilled-- he has yet to finish a bowl.

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This coming apple season, I am aiming for 100 quarts of applesauce!

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One

Happy Birthday to my little guy!

A single candle on his birthday cake.

Hard to believe that a year has flown by already and my little baby is now One. He is very vocal and I think he will be saying his first word soon. It already sounds like he is trying to say "da-da" and "ma-ma" and he mimics me when I say "all gone". He is a pro at walking and I love watching him walk around the room. Of course, now that is walking, he is also able to get into things more and he leaves a trail of destruction behind him. I am constantly telling him "don't touch, no-no!" and picking up and putting him away from the bookshelf, only to have him make a beeline right back to where he was before. Just today I caught him with his fingers in the toilet bowl!

He is such a good baby, though, he loves the stroller, which none of my girls did. I always used to wonder how people got their kids to sit in the stroller for so long, as ours always ended up walking and we'd be pushing an empty stroller, feeling a little foolish for bringing it in the first place. But Baby? He is content to sit and watch. We use the stroller with him for so much and it has made it much easier for me when we go cherry picking or to the beach or even at home when I pull the laundry down from the line.

Happy birthday little one, may you have many, many more. I love you.

Life in Sentences.

I let the housecleaning slide a little bit, we've been way too busy and I have to pick what's more important:: cranky me cleaning a house or having a little fun with the kids with a crumb-y floor? I chose the crumb-y floor, but then I also chose the cluttered counter tops, dirty dishes in the sink, messy bedrooms and dirty laundry in the hallway.

Why is it when my house is messy, that's when I have strangers come by-- the phone company guy to replace the modem on our computer and carpet people come and install new carpeting in the apartment. I was embarrassed about the mess, and apologized, then kicked a toy under the hutch and picked up a few torn scraps of paper off the floor. I know there's nothing I can do while the guy is standing in the office, waiting for the computer screen to warm-up and all he can see is the mess in the house. sigh... Let that be a lesson to me:: it's OK to let the housework slide, but not too much!

Here's a quick update::

The garden is growing,
the kids are thriving,
the chickens are establishing their pecking order,
the dog is chewing up barbie dolls,
the husband is still working his part-time job,
the baby is soon a year old,
Archie the cat has a tick on his eyelid,
the cars need inspection,
the van needs new tires,
the garage needs a new garage door opener,
Lucy the cat catches and kills voles,
then leaves them near the food bowls,
the pears on the pear tree are the size of walnuts,
the chicken coop still needs finishing touches,
BC the cat still doesn't like the dog,
the mulberries are ripe and ready for picking,
my canning jars are washed and ready,
I'm itchy with bug bites,
we need to have a major yard sale,
I just picked up a sweet sewing basket at someone else's yard sale,
I have more pee-pee sheets to wash,
Baby's rash is better,
Youngest is getting a heat rash,
Oldest just had a growth spurt,
Middle wants a hair cut,
Husband is smelling mighty fine,
my heart goes pitty-pat when I see him,
I finally loaded the photo program,
the printer and the computer are not speaking to each other,
I have 37 missed calls on my videophone,
Husband found 'Papillon' at the used dvd store,
Baby is walking,
no talking yet,
something is munching on my peas,
I forgot the blanket drying on the line outside,
it's after midnight and I am ready for bed,
Good Night.

Independence!

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Is there anything more freeing

than a baby holding his own bottle?

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Make Your Own: Baby Food!

Has anyone priced baby food lately?

Good grief! That stuff's expensive! The last time I bought jarred baby food for my Youngest was nearly 2 years ago and it didn't cost as much as it does now. So, as any mother would do on a tight budget, I make my own baby food.

It's not hard, I did it with the first 3, but the jarred baby food was a convenience factor, when I was too lazy to make some or we were eating pop tarts for dinner. What? Don't tell me you don't have pop-tarts for dinner, too!



You could use a blender or food processor, but I happen to have one of these human-powered food mills. I had a hard time finding mine 6 years ago when I popped out my first baby, but they might be easier to find now with the whole organic/grow your own/ green movement.

Anyway, whatever I make for dinner that night, I'll cook extra and grind it up in the handy-dandy food mill. Tonight was pot pie, so I had both peas and carrots to grind. Grind it up then freeze in little portions in an ice cube tray.

After freezing for a couple of hours, pop the veggie cubes out and then put in separate zippy bags and keep it in the freezer until needed.



I take a couple of cubes at a time, and I use these vintage glass custard cups. You could use whatever is handy, but I like vintage stuff. Reheat in the microwave (30 seconds for mine) then I also add a little bit of rice cereal and water to make it a little more filling.





Baby is smacking his lips and saying, "more more!"





I can't get it in his mouth fast enough! Oh, like the bib? I made it. It's pink, I know. It's from when Oldest was a baby and why should I get rid of it just because my latest baby is a boy? A bib is a bib!

"Hellooooo! I'm waiting!"

Oh, sorry, Baby. Here ya go! Yum-yum-mum-mum-mmmmm!

See? Good food makes a happy Baby!

Aren't you a happy Baby. Yes you are! Yes you are! Such a happy baby boy! Aren't you a Hap--

Sorry. I'll go now.

5 Months!

It's been a flurry of crafting activity around here, so I am a couple days late with this post. My son hit the 5 month old mark and it's hard to believe he's been with us only 5 months. I count the 9 months he was in my belly, so for me, he's been with us for much longer.

While he is still on the small side, he is a feisty little guy and we've just started to feed him solids- mushy carrots so far, and he has gobbled it up! You know I'm a mom when I look forward to seeing orange poo in the diapers!

Sleeping with daddy. He sleeps in the middle so I have easy nursing at night. My husband will wake me if Baby fusses and I'll whip a boob out and go back to sleep. He sleeps almost through the night and once he makes it all the way through without waking, he'll make the move to his crib.

Such a handsome little man, with gorgeous blue eyes and peach fuzz hair on his head. He likes to stand, so we spend lots of time holding him up so he can stand and I've started to put him in his saucer so he can stand on his own. He dislikes the swinger we have, crying the second we put him in there, arching his back so I can't buckle him in. He has been trying out his voice and has quite an ear-piercing scream. He has also, for the first time last week, reached for me while Hubby was holding him.

I look forward to seeing Baby grow and learn more things for himself. He is a well-loved baby, with his sisters smothering him with kisses and hugs, and mommy and daddy hugging and kissing him, too. If he grows up to be like his daddy, he'll be a good man. We love you Baby.

::30 Days:: Day 26

We got 2 letters from Child Protective Services. One for the husband and a separate one for me. I opened mine with a little bit of hesitation. I know in my heart that I am a good mom and that the husband is a good dad, but I don't know what people see. Do people see us differently? What does a social worker, that is trained to look at things with a critical eye, see? Does he see crumbs on the table and floor a sign of uncleanliness? Does he see cluttered kitchen counter tops as sloth-like behavior? Does he understand that a home with 4 young children means that mom has her hands full and can't always wipe the table and sweep the floors after every meal, and the mail and other items that come in everyday doesn't always get sorted to their proper places right away?



Opening the letter, the first page explained the policies of CPS and what the letter means and if you weren't satisfied with the results, where to call; etc etc etc. The last page stated:



"Allegations that were investigated:

An investigation was recently completed regarding the CPS report dated 9/05/2008 which alleged that "Baby" was NEGLECTED by "Mama"



Findings of the investigation:

The investigation of the allegations found that "Baby" was NOT NEGLECTED by "Mama"

Risk that abuse and/or neglect may occur in the future was also found to be minimal to low.



Conclusion:

For the above stated reasons, CPS WILL NOT be offering services to your family."



You just don't know the relief I felt when I read the last page. It was a HUGE weight lifted off my shoulders. Both Hubby and I looked at each other and smiled big smiles.



My husband works at the mall in the big town and he sees lots of familiar faces-- old friends, former co-workers and acquaintances. One day he saw the pediatrician that reported us to CPS. The pediatrician saw my husband and then quickly ducked, covered his face and walked away. Now why would he do that? I'd like to think that he feels guilty for reporting us, but it may also be he wanted to avoid a confrontation. In any case, it's over and we will never be going back to that doctor again.



I'm unable to post any pictures today, Blogger is acting funny.



We pureed one of the pumpkins and made pumpkin cookies then froze the rest of the pumpkin puree in 1-cup portions. The pumpkin seeds are drying and will be toasted and seasoned tomorrow.

Pumpkin cookies recipe found here. Good cookies, kind of cake-y, but good.

I was going to do a whole post about how to puree pumpkin for pies and breads, but Pioneer Woman beat me to it. Go here for how to make puree and here for pumpkin seeds. She makes her puree and seeds pretty much the same way I do mine, so check it out.

::30 Days:: Day 14

Most of the day was spent outdoors. It was a lovely fall day, crisp and cool, not cold enough to turn on the heat, but nippy enough to turn my fingers into popsicles when I hung the laundry on the line this morning.

Hubby worked on splitting the logs today. I helped when I could, but he did the majority of the work. Here he is, setting up a log under the splitter, then he presses a lever to make the splitter head come down...

...it splits right in half! It makes quick work out of even the largest log and in no time at all, Hubby had a nice pile of firewood.

Hubby is still at it 3 hours later and look at that pile of firewood behind him. If he was using his axe like he did last year, this pile would have taken more than a week to chop, and I'd be missing his help inside the house.

I helped by loading up the firewood into our little wagon and pulled it around to the front of the house, where we stack the firewood close to the basement door. Our woodstove is in the basement and it has a fan to force the heat into the rest of the house. We spend more time in the basement in winter than we do in summer.

Smart me, I had chili going in the crockpot all day. Every time we came inside the house, the smell of chili just about made us crazy! I'm glad I didn't have to cook after being outside most of the day! I did make up some fresh corn chips and corn bread, because what's chili without corn bread?? This bowl is all that's left from a big crockpot of chili!

The crock pot after dinner! We sure worked up an appetite!

I took the Baby in for a check up and he is gaining and growing.. He now weighs 9.2 lbs and is 22 3/4 inches. He has discovered his fingers and contentedly sucks on them. Since he found them, he has been much easier to put down for a nap and he soothes himself to sleep. None of the girls sucked their thumbs or fingers and we don't use pacifiers. I was a thumb sucker and when I was little, I called it "thucking my thumb", of course, that's how it sounds when you say it while your thumb is in your mouth.

::30 Days:: Day 6

Youngest impatiently waiting for breakfast to come out of the oven. The husband went to work this morning so I didn't feel like making a big meal. I made poor man's doughnuts out of those biscuits-in-a-can. Just pop it open, poke a hole in the center of each biscuit and stretch it out some, then dip in cinnamon and sugar and bake as usual. Yummy! Used to make these a lot when we were kids.


Today was one of those days, where I was non-stop breastfeeding the baby. I'd try to get him down but one of the girls would come by just as he starts to fall asleep and lay a big kiss on the top of his head and startle him awake. Or the girls would play a little too loud and a shriek would wake him up. Or one of them would jump on the couch and wake him up. Or they turn up the TV too loud and wake him up. Yeah, one of those days. Plus, it was raining, so I couldn't send them outside to play.


We did manage to get some apples into the dehydrator, though. Oldest helped peel them, dunked them into the lemon juice/water mixture and then dried them and put them onto the trays. They keep asking when the apple chips will be ready and they have a hard time understanding why they won't be ready until tomorrow. They'll see in the morning and we'll turn it into a home school lesson.

Staying Busy

First, a big Thank You for all of your supportive comments on my previous post. It is reassuring to know that I have people on my side, even those that have never met me and know me only through my blog. We did as some of you suggested, and called CPS asking for a copy of the report. We were told we will get copies when the case is closed but not while it is ongoing. We also made an appointment with a new, local doctor and we are keeping in touch with the CPS worker as well.

Jessica!! Of course I remember you! How could I forget? It's great hearing from you and I hope we can keep in touch now that you've found my blog!

In an attempt to keep my mind off of what has been happening with CPS and the doctor, I spent all day Tuesday making and then canning 15 pints of peach jam.

The whole family pitched in to help, from picking the peaches off our peach tree, to peeling the skins off (who knew the girls' nimble little fingers could peel them so much faster than I ever could!), taking out the seed and then running them in the meat grinder. A quick tip for you: for mincing fruits and veggies, the meat grinder does a great job of it, saving me loads of time chopping it myself!

I planned to make more today, but am out of pectin, so will put it off until tomorrow.

Wednesday, we had a morning appointment with a local doctor for the baby. He was ok, telling us stuff we already knew-- like how often to feed a baby and don't let baby sleep, wake baby to feed him, etc.. I wanted to say "Hello?! This is #4 for me?! I know that stuff already" but I bit my tongue and nodded along. Since the appointment with idiot doctor last week, the baby gained another 8 ounces. I felt victorious in knowing that what we've been saying all along is turning out to be true-- the baby is a slow gainer and between 2 and 3 months, the weight starts to come on faster. But it still doesn't erase what has happened with CPS and idiot doctor.

This new doctor wants us to come back next week for a weigh-in and he went on and on about how a baby is supposed to gain an ounce a day and that equals approximately 2 pounds a month and then showed us the growth and weight chart and where our baby is on it and I realized that this doctor is the same as the other doctor-- he isn't listening to us when we say that our babies are slow gainers. When we told him we breastfed all our kids until they were over 18 months (except #3 who weaned herself off at 9 months) he seemed surprised. When we told him I was not on birth control because I didn't believe in nursing while on the pill, he actually looked at me funny.

I feel like I am in a position I don't want to be in-- We HAVE to go to the doctor because if we don't, CPS will be back for another visit. I'd much rather stay home and then go to the health department when necessary, but at this point, we can't. It's too late, CPS is involved now and the only way to get them off our backs is to continue to see the doctor and show that the baby is gaining weight.
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After coming home from the doctor's office, the husband decided to get out the chainsaw and do some trimming of the trees. We have a few dead trees that need to be cut down and chopped for fire wood.

Here's me, cutting the trunk of a tree *I* cut down!! What a rush that is, to cut a tree and see it fall! After about 10 minutes, I passed the chainsaw back to Hubby, my hand can't take the vibration of it for very long-- I had surgery once for carpal tunnel and tendinitis on my right hand.

Here's Hubby, trimming the branches off the tree I cut down.

And the girls wanted to help, so they pulled all the branches out of the way after daddy cuts them off. See Youngest covering her ears? "That chainsaw is too loud!!"

It's always fun when we can do things together as a family-- be it making jam or cutting wood. Whatever happens with the doctors and CPS, I know that we will be alright. We know that our son is fine and we just have to keep going to prove it. We are a loving family and I am totally blessed to have them in my life.

Meddling People

Just as I feared, it happened this morning-- a visit from Child Protective Services.

The morning began as it always does, our usual doings as we wake up and start the day. I was sitting in the living room nursing the baby and the girls were playing with their Barbies when Hubby came in and told me there was a guy here from Child Protective Services (CPS), here to see the baby, on a report from the doctor.

The pediatrician called the Department of Health on us, because we refused to take the baby to the hospital to be tested and because we didn't follow his orders of feeding the baby formula 7 times a day.

The worker from CPS and my husband and I sat down at the dining table and we began to talk. He asked us about the baby and we explained what happened at the doctor's office. I told how he turned his back on me when he knew I was deaf and the worker made a face and said that was rude. We said that we tried to explain the history of our other children and the doctor didn't want to listen and when he wanted to take the baby to the hospital for testing, he didn't say for what. I explained that I didn't feel comfortable with the pediatrician and that we were going to check out 3 other doctors here in town.

We also told the worker about the ob/gyn doctor that broke my water without my permission and he was shocked at what we said. Medicaid has been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because we can relax a little knowing that should one of our children get hurt, they will be covered and we don't go into debt paying doctor bills. A curse because it seems to bring out the worst doctors or at least bring out the worst in doctors. I only get to pick doctors that accept medicaid and even then, it seems like they look at you like you are insignificant or are taking advantage of the system and getting free health care or welfare or anything. That's what it seems like to me.

While we were talking to the CPS worker, my eye started to see the mess in my home, the toys scattered here and there, the pile of papers on the countertop that seems to be the catch-all for all papers that enter through our doors. The crumbs on the table and floor from last nights' dinner, the dishes in the sink and on the counter that have not yet been washed... I apologized for the mess, trying to say that with a baby and 3 kids, well, kind of hard to keep up. He shook his head and said "You should see my house". I still can't help but think he might have said that but wrote something else in his file.

I started to cry a little and I was upset at what was going on. In my house, was a CPS worker, checking up on my baby. All the worse-case scenarios started running through my head. The worker assured us that there would probably be no more visits and this is the last we hear from him, provided we contact them after we make an appointment with another doctor and let them know how it went. He said he has seen far worse homes with babies left in the cribs and no care or attention to them. After talking with us for about 40 minutes, he left.

The husband and I are furious, upset, angry, frustrated, disappointed... I never imagined that there would be a CPS worker in my own home inquiring me about my own children. Now our names are in the system and on file and should anything ever pop up, a red flag will come up because some idiot doctor reported us to CPS for neglect. It's enough to make me want to pack up our stuff, sell the house and move to somewhere new and begin fresh.

It really makes my husband and I both angry when we take our jobs as parents seriously and do the best we can to provide for them, with what little we have, and then some idiot out there has to go and make things harder for us. I don't care if the CPS worker says "this will probably be the last time you hear from us", it doesn't matter, the fact is, we are now a name on their list of reported parents. My husband wonders about calling a lawyer to see what can be done, and all I can think is to go away from here.

Life is hard sometimes and it is made harder when meddling doctors call CPS on us. I now feel like I need to super clean my house and keep it that way at all times, in case there is another surprise visit from CPS. I don't need that hanging on my head. Excuse me while I go outside and scream my head off.

After-thoughts on 'Bad Doctor'

Thanks to all for your positive comments on my previous post. We called a breast-feeding advocate friend of mine and she recommended 3 family doctors. We will be visiting all three at one time or another and get a feel for them, before we make a decision for who we will stick with. They are all local doctors, too, so we would not have to drive an hour into the bigger town in Virginia.

I look in my son's face and I see a beautiful baby boy. He has the most beautiful smile and it really disappoints me, for the second time, the pediatrician wrote "failure to thrive" on paper. For a doctor that has been in the business for more than 30 years, you would think that he would be aware that not all babies are alike. My brother-in-law argued that maybe in all his years of doctoring, he is concerned about this one baby that doesn't look like the others. I don't agree.

Like some of you that have commented, I have seen a wide range of babies. Extremely chubby babies, tiny really-not-a-preemie-babies, and average size babies. Small babies that came from two large people, and giant babies from two petite people. No two are the same, even twin babies.

Before I had my Oldest, I planned on breast-feeding because it seemed the natural thing to do and I have always been the type to march to my own drummer, the odd one out. I had lots of negative reactions from people who tried to push formula on me and the baby. Even the hospitals and doctor's offices bombard you with free cans of formulas and coupons and free diaper bags filled with formula samples of all kinds.

Oldest had to stay in the NICU for a week because of a supposed infection and they had to let the antibiotics run their course before releasing her. I requested that they do not give her formula or a pacifier and was upset when I found out they did both.

With the negative reaction from people, I had started to resign myself to using formula while out in public and nursing at home, until I bumped into an acquaintance of mine who asked me if I was breast-feeding. I told her what I was doing and she set me straight, bless her heart! She told me that if her baby was hungry, she was going to feed him right then and there. Who cares who is watching. You eat a candy bar anywhere, so feed the baby anywhere. Those were just the words I needed to hear and I started to nurse any where and every where. Instead of feeling apologetic to people who were making faces, I started to chuckle at their reactions. I started to get a kick out of seeing their faces change when they realized just what I was doing. I became skilled at nursing while shopping, cooking, and typing on the computer.

I have no doubts about breast feeding and I know it is the most precious thing I can do for my children. I know that some people don't want to, or cannot, and I respect their decision. For me, I will not stop until my son weans himself off me, and I hope that won't happen until he is at least 2 years old.

I will not let one bad doctor sway our decisions for what we do with our children. I must admit, though, I get a little nervous when I think about the power that the doctor has-- will he call social services and report us as bad parents? Can he do that? Can social services take my kids away? I try not to worry about it but it sure makes me think on how different every child was/is. How each birth and the time period afterwards is never the same for each kid.

Your words of encouragement mean so much to me and my husband and I sincerely thank you for them. It's good to know there are others out there that think like us and we aren't the crazy ones.

***Did you know that the U.S. has a high mortality death rate for babies? More than 7,000 babies die a year here compared to other countries, even third-world countries. With my recent experience with both the ob-gyn and the pediatrician, I can believe it.

Bad Doctor

I must be a glutton for punishment. I should have listened to my gut and told Hubby to cancel the appointment when the secretary called to confirm.

We went back to the pediatrician, the one that made me feel like a bad mother, because we have not yet found a replacement. I weighed my son myself, and saw that he had gained 8 ounces since the last appointment, so I had hoped that the doctor would have been satisfied with that. He was not.

My son has grown an inch and gained 8 ounces and while he is still on the small side, he looks good! He is starting to take notice of his surroundings and he scoots when he is on his tummy. He rolls from back to front and front to back and he has started to grab things, especially my hair and necklace. He has the most beautiful smile with a dimple on his left cheek. We supplement his diet with one bottle of formula a day, usually when I am busy in the kitchen and no amount of comfort from daddy will quiet him. I like to think of it as when daddy and son can bond together over a drink!

At the doctor's office today, he was quite upset when we told him that we were not giving him the 7 bottles of formula a day like he told us and said we were stunting his brain development. My husband told the doctor that the boy eats and pees and poops just like all our other babies did and his slow gaining was exactly like the first child we had. While examining our son, he found nothing out of the ordinary and told us to go to the hospital to run additional tests as to why he isn't gaining faster. We said no.

I told the doctor that we feel our son is doing just fine and I would never deprive my children of medical attention and care and if I thought he needed to be tested, I would take him, but I don't feel that is necessary. My husband and the doctor did most of the talking, with the doctor turning his back on me. He wants us to come back to see him next week and I told the husband that I will not be taking my son back to him again.

The doctor seemed taken aback when we were firm in our convictions and belief that our son is doing well. I think he is used to people agreeing to whatever he says to do. He started to say this and that, and my husband calmly said that he was not going to argue with him, but that we don't agree with what he said. The doctor's brochure says he believes in breast-feeding, and my husband pointed out that breast is best, isn't it? I even quoted Trapper in a comment she left and told the doctor I was raising a baby not fattening a hog.

We will be making calls tomorrow, to find another pediatrician that will not push the panic button when a baby doesn't follow the "normal" guidelines.

I love my son with all of my heart and soul and I know that he is fine. But when there is a doctor like that, it makes me doubt myself and I start second-guessing what is best for my son. We are going to continue to do what we have been doing all along, and dammit, I will not be made to feel like a terrible mother for doing it. I have raised 3 healthy little girls and I am raising a healthy baby boy, too.

"Failure to thrive"

Those were the words the pediatrician wrote on my baby's medical slip and handed to me today. If there are any words that makes a mama feel terrible, it's those.

He has only gained one ounce since his last doctor visit 2 weeks ago and the doctor turns to me and starts asking all sorts of questions about his eating habits: "How often does he eat? When are you nursing him? Are you giving him formula? How much and how often? How are his bowel movements?"

I nurse my baby whenever he wants to be fed. I will drop what I am doing to sit down and whip out the boob so my baby can eat. The few exceptions are when I am in the shower; when I have to do a bowel movement of my own; or when I am typing up the last of a post on this here blog. I have been known to feed the baby while I type with one hand and I have also been known to bring the baby with me into the bathroom if the husband is nowhere to be found and the girls are a little too rowdy for me to trust them with a fragile little baby.

At the appointment 2 weeks ago, the doctor asked me to supplement his feedings with 2 ounces of formula, once a day, after I nurse him. I have done that, and sometimes he finishes it, sometimes he doesn't. That, to me, tells me he is getting enough to eat from me because he is too full to finish the bottle. At the appointment today, he tells me I was supposed to feed him 2 ounces of formula after every feeding. The husband and I both agree that is not what he said. Besides that, he hasn't lost any weight. If he was losing weight then I would be concerned, too!

My Oldest, when she was a newborn, was a slow gainer, too. The first couple of visits to the doctor's office brought the inquisition down on our heads. "Are you feeding this child? You aren't starving her are you?!" Well for pete's sake! Of course I'm not starving her! You think I would bring her in for a check-up if I wasn't properly taking care of her? After about 5 or 6 weeks, she started to gain an ounce here and an ounce there and to look at her now, you would never know she was such a small thing. She eats voraciously and I never have a problem getting her to eat her vegetables or fruits.

While I am grateful for the medicaid we are getting, I am resenting the treatment I am receiving from the doctors; from the rude doctor that broke my water without asking me; to the pediatrician who started talking to another doctor about my baby's file right in front of me, resulting in the other doctor giving me the 'eye'. At least wait until I am out of sight before discussing a patients file with another doctor.

Of the 4 births I had, the third one at home with a midwife was the absolute best and the care I received cannot be compared to any of the other births. After the birth of baby #3 we decided that we didn't want her get all the shots that they give babies and choose to "go natural". I would never deny my children any kind of care if they needed it, but it makes me frustrated when a person judges me and my capabilities by only seeing my child for less than 5 minutes every 2 weeks.

I am going to look for another pediatrician, because frankly, I don't like feeling like a terrible mother.

I'm not a bad mother. I'm not a bad mother. I'm not a bad mother...

Can You Believe...

...the baby is 1 month old already?!
Daddy and baby napping together. Baby's foot is in Daddy's shirt pocket!

1 month later, and the girls are still asking to hold their "baby brudder" 10 times a day! Oldest just loves holding and rocking him.
Love that baby face! He naps on the couch next to me so I can keep an eye on him.
Such tiny little toes and feet! I can't stand it! I'm always holding his little feet while I'm nursing him. His foot is exactly the length of my middle finger.

Please pay no mind to the stains- I had a moment of insanity and bought a white sofa cover. with 4 kids. four kids. I had an idea from a magazine that had a couch with a white cover on it and the decorator said when it got dirty she just threw it in the wash with bleach. She obviously doesn't have 4 kids. Bleach doesn't work on every stain. I planned to dye it, but I have 4 kids, who has the time?

He is a tummy sleeper. Just like me. He may look like the husband, but he sleeps like me! He may have the husband's toes, fingers, chin and nose, but he sleeps like me! I love how he pulls his legs up and tucks his arms underneath. Makes it easy to see how he was inside my belly.

Happy 1 month birthday, Baby!