Well, hi.

There have been so many days lately that things have happened and I've thought, "I need to blog about that." So. Here I am. Assuming I keep up with this, it'll be a place where I chronicle Charlie's craziness. And boy, does he have some.

In the last few months, Charlie has learned so much. He's a rambunctious, inquisitive, sweet, loving, vertical 15 month old. He's crazy and I love every minute of him. Well, almost every minute. Some days I want to put him outside and let Hank babysit, but I don't. I turn on Sofia the First and let her babysit him. Seriously. Kid loves him some Sofia. He's captivated her.

In the time I've been away from here, we've lost my Grandfather. Pa passed away in April, and I miss him every day. He left behind my Gma, who I think about every day. I was asked to deliver the eulogy at his funeral, and while thinking of the words to say, I realized just how amazing he was. I knew he was generous and loving and a light on his own, but I know now that I took it for granted that he'd always be around. To hear so many people tell amazing stories about how he helped them or how he made their days brighter or how he sold them their first car... it made me even more proud to be his granddaughter. I'm so happy he got to meet and know Charlie. My Charles David, named after my James David. Two special boys who will always be in my heart.

Just to give a glimpse of the personality we're dealing with... I have no idea where he gets it. Bob and I are so mild and mellow and introverted.

For my teensy little boy.

So World Prematurity Day was this week. My newsfeed has been filled with pictures and stories of babies who arrived before they were expected. A lot of them were delivered at 35 weeks and even later. I see these babies, tiny, sick, undeveloped, and it amazes me that Charlie was as perfect as he was when he was born. I've questioned Doctor J so many times about whether or not his due date was accurate. Every time she tells me yes, it was right based on measurements and development.

My happy, curious, active little boy stuns me every day. He loves to learn and discover new things. He loves to watch the big kids play outside in our street. He loves Hank, and Hank loves him. One day soon, he'll love to walk!! I feel like he's within days of being upright!

Light bulb.

Sooo. I had an epiphany today. So far in Charlie's life, I've thought motherhood was fairly easy. All in all, Charlie hasn't been a difficult baby. Bob and I have rolled in to parenthood fairly seamlessly. Until last week.

Charles. Is. Mobile.

Last week, he decided to crawl, climb, and cruise. And this week, he's trying to walk. Holy balls. I spend my days chasing this kid, watching his every move, staying on edge to catch him, keeping he and Hank's toys separate so no teeth are shown. Charlie has 4 going on 7, by the way.

We have entered a whole new quarter in this ballgame. It's fun, but exhausting!

I'm back. Again.

Just how many times do you think I can make a comeback? I'll let you know someday. 

So the last few months, I have gotten involved in two different mom groups. I have gotten more involved in our neighborhood. I am leaving our bubble. And it's awesome. 

Before Charlie, there's no way I would have had the guts to walk up to a group of women I met online and introduce myself. No way, Jose. Yet here we are. With a full calendar and many, many new friends. 

For this, I owe Charlie. My sweet, giggly, happy, puppy dog-loving, boy. Every day I'm so grateful I get to stay home with him. Even when he wakes up ridiculously early, has as fussy butt day, refuses to nap, and makes a massive mess... I love my days with him. When Bob is home, he is 1000% hands on and amazing. But when he and Charlie have breakfast together and naptime or bathtime and bedtime, I miss my baby. I find this so surreal. I can be with him all day long, patience tested, hair pulled (by him and me), yet if I don't get those breakfast giggles or bedtime snuggles, I'm sad. I know it's only going to get worse rhe older the gets. And I suppose I'm okay with that. I don't want to say I didn't love him right away, because I absolutely did. But somehow I still love him more and more every day. It still just amazes me. He amazes me. 

Had enough sappy blabbling? Okay.  Here are some pics instead... 

Why, hello there.

So you may be asking yourself... what could possibly bring her out of her life-imposed blog silence after two months? The answer: EBOLA. E-freaking-bola.

In the 4th grade, I did a book report on Ebola and Bubonic Plague. Literally ever since, I've been obsessed with it. When Ebola broke out in Liberia, I knew about it before US news stations caught wind. When there was a single case of Bubonic Plague in China this summer, guess who was following it? This girl. (Btw- no one else got it besides the one guy.)

Being the wife of an airline pilot has it's own inherent risks. I've always been concerned with Bob's potential proximity to recycled germs. Now that Ebola has taken to the skies, my paranoia has taken my heart rate to stupid levels.

My husband, being the good Southern, well-mannered boy that he is, will stop and help anyone in the airport. They ask, he helps. They look lost, he helps. They're bleeding from their eyeballs and puking everywhere, he better not stop to effing help. We had to have this conversation this week.

This morning before he left for a trip to Texas (yay, better than Cleveland, I suppose), we had a frank discussion about Ebola. I'm not afraid of us getting it. I'm scared shitless of Charlie getting it. Is it unreasonable for me to be this afraid? Probably. But that's not stopping me from worrying about it. For the first time in my life, I'm responsible for someone's health other than my own. Holy crap.

OH hai!

SO. I was planning to go back and "catch up" on my blogs. Every time I sit down to do it, I get busy. Apparently 5 month olds keep you on your toes. 5 MONTH OLD? Yes. My sweet, tiny, preemie, couldn't wait to get here baby is 5 months old. Closer to 6 at this point if you're counting. Or you're my mother in law. Hi, Meme, if you ever happen to read this.

We've taken several trips. We've gone to Louisiana a couple of times, Charlie had his first flight to Maine in June, and last night he had his first food... sweet potatoes. He's found his hands, his feet, my hands, my feet, Hanker's hands, Hanker's feet... you get the point. He is soooo inquisitive and amazing. He's at the age where he sees everything. He's always looking around. I love it. He's getting so interactive and giggly. OH the giggles. I never thought I'd be the kind of person who acts a total fool for their child, but here we are. With me acting like a goob to get this boy to giggle. Be still my heart.

The whirlwind nature of mine and Bob's courtship, marriage, and life has no slowed down at all. Charlie has just been folded into the mix, and we've all adjusted pretty well. Later this month will be our three year engagement-iversary. Holy crap. It barely seems like it's been a year.

I'm going to try to start blogging regularly again. But things come up. Like spit. And drool. And sweet Jesus, hopefully some teeth soon.

See you peeps around!

Very pro pics. VERY.

We finally got Charlie's professional newborn pics back. I'm in LOVE with them all. Seriously. I want to put them all over our house. I'm trying to reign it in, but gah. Here are a few of my very most favorites... All by Kristen Hinson Photography.

My favorite little bug.

Words cannot describe how much I love this kid. 

The First Charlie.

Today is a pretty special day. It's the original Charlie's birthday! She was so very special to Bob and his family. The few times I met her, I easily saw why. She was an amazing, sweet, genuine lady. I know she would love our little Charlie so very much.

Remembering people like Charlie is something that is important to me. Our little Charlie needs to know about all the awesome people Bob and I have had in our lives. The people who helped make us who we are, the people in the forefront of our special memories, the people we still miss every single day. We will continue to celebrate this day year after year! 

From one Charlie to another... 

Happy Birthday, Charlie! 

It's official.

Charlie and I are alone for the first time. For days. For 4 days. Holy balls.

He still has his cold, but he's sleeping better. Last night he only woke up one time! Woo hoo! I see light. It may be a nightlight at 4am, but hey, it's still a light toward the end of the tunnel. Hopefully. 

We are getting ready for our first trip away from home. It isn't until Easter, but I'm already nervous about it. It'll be just Charlie and I driving to Atlanta. Just the logistics bother me. How do I go pee? Do I take the carseat in? Take Charlie out and put him in a wrap carrier? Will he sleep the whole time? Do I wake him up to feed him where I'm comfortable stopping or when he's starts screaming? SOO MANY QUESTIONS. I know it'll be fine. I'm just anxious. Time to break out the big girl panties again. And not just because I haven't dropped all the baby weight...

And that's another thing. At what point do you buy new clothes and give up hope of fitting in pre-preg clothes? Well. That point for me was this week. I went shopping, and for the first time (maybe ever) I HATED all the clothes. Not just the fit, I hated the styles and colors. I found a few things at Loft and Old Navy. I refuse to spend a whole lot on new clothes. Eventually I fit back into my old ones. Eventually. Right?!

And now, a photo filled post...

Can I have these boobs, Mom? Typical boy... already after some boobs. And check out that head control? Super baby.

I love pissy baby pictures.

He loves his monkey. When Bob deployed, I gave him a sock monkey drenched in my perfume before he left. We named him Don Juan (DJ), and I call Charlie's monkey, Junior (as in Don Juan Junior).

He's finally able to wear newborn clothes! They finally fit!!! Yay!

Melting.

Charlie has started extending his arms as if to hug us while we hold him.

Melts. My. Heart.

And yes, this child is either naked (in only a diaper) or wearing a long sleeve white onesie 99% of the time. That's what happens when your clothes don't quite fit yet!

Burning the midnight oil.

Or maybe the 4am oil, perhaps.

Charlie has his first cold. A cold that he apparently picked up AT the doctors office earlier this week. I adore our pediatrician and his staff. They are all awesome. I don't, however, love their waiting room. There is no division between perfectly healthy newborns there for their well baby checks and the snot nosed, puking, or bleeding 1-18 year olds. It's just aggravating. To go to the doctor and then get sick.

So anyway. We're dealing (meaning, I'm freaking out) with this new illness. I never knew baby poop could be so disgusting. My facebook friends have told me it gets worse, but holy balls. Tonight I made Bob change him. It was just as bad as it was last night. It literally seems like something crawled in his ass and died, and then came back out as green pudding. Yes, I know you all wanted that vision. Sorry. If I have to deal, so do you. You're lucky Bob didn't get his way tonight... He wanted to take a picture of it and send it to his friends. Thank GOD he didn't have his phone in the room with him, and I refused to go get it.

Bob goes back to work next week, and I'm already dreading it. It's going to suck being here alone. Not just dealing with Charlie alone, but actually being alone and not having anyone to talk to. I've had at least one other person in this house every day since February 21. It's going to be so quiet and boring here, and I've already binge-watched all of Orange is the New Black. Damn Netflix... I didn't realize the new season wasn't out yet. 

It happened. I'm official.

So. A few hours ago, I experienced something I knew would happen eventually. Frankly, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner.

I changed a diaper. And promptly puked.

I feel like I'm a real Mom now.

Happy Due Date!

Today is the day my squishy little bug was due. I can't imagine the last 5 weeks without him! He seems like so much a part of our lives already. It's weird to think he should just now be here.

Last night we tried to move him to his room for the night. It went...well? He and I both lasted until around 5am. I know it will get better. We just have to give both of us time! In the meantime, here are some pictures to take up space since I need to go feed him and stop blogging.

Crying baby. Happy mama.

The last few days I have realized something. I always thought that a crying baby was a bad sound. I thought that when I had a baby, I'd go nuts hearing him or her cry. But now that I have one, that cry means he's okay. That cry means he's breathing. That cry makes me incredibly happy.

My Charlie is changing every day. He's eating more and growing. He's developing a little personality that's pretty big for such a small person. He's so sweet and perfect. It melts me when I see him react to my voice. At the end of this week, I'll have a one month old, who technically still isn't even supposed to be here yet.

This little boy is just so amazing. To say we're in love with him would be a complete understatement.

Sunday snuggles.

Sundays have never been more sweet. Snuggling with my little boogins!! Y'all. Seriously. He's perfect! 

Week One.

So. Here we are. I'm blogging while holding a baby. Our boogie. Charles David. My Charlie.

Last Friday, after seeing the high risk doctor, finally getting my 35 week ultrasound, and being stuck at least 16 times with needles, Charlie was delivered at 12:52pm. 5lbs, 1oz, 18.25 inches long. I'd say it was a relatively routine C-section, but apparently it wasn't entirely. Dr J made the incision too small, I bled too much, Charlie didn't cry quick enough, and then I had an allergic reaction to my medication. It was an eventful lunch time hour to say the least.

Once they stabilized both of us and we both realized he was on the outside of me, things calmed down. And ya'll, he's perfect! Born at 35 weeks and 1 day, he had some immediate breathing issues, but they stabilized by the end of the day. His blood sugar leveled out after a day or so. He's still a smidge jaundiced, but not bad enough for treatment.

We've learned a few things about our little horse in the last week... he looks more like Bob than me, which is fine, because I wanted him to look like his Daddy. He hates to have his diaper changed. I mean, HATES IT. If he pulls his hat down over his eyes, he gets super pissy. He's a fan of boobs. He doesn't love to sleep between 3am-5am. He still doesn't fit into preemie clothes. He is Hank's new favorite thing to sniff. Oh, and he's perfect.

I still can't believe he's here. I still feel like I'll have to give him back at some point, that I'm not really going to be able to keep him. It still seems like I'm pretending to be a Mom, and that this is a dream. A really good one, but still a dream.

So. I give you one week of Charlie in photos. 

Rollovers and names.

Well, I learned something about my baby. He doesn't like being squished.

We have a tempurpedic bed at home. With that kind of bed, I can lie down on my stomach and not squish the baby. The bed forms around my belly, and he still has plenty of room.

Our first night away from home during our Thanksgiving vacation, I rolled over onto my stomach and Baby started kicking the shit out of me. I was mostly asleep when this happened and immediately woke up laughing. I could just picture him in there, banging on my belly, yelling, "MOOOOM! You're squishing me!!" Poor kidlet.

During our trip, we also discussed baby names with our families. At the top of Bob's list, is his name. Bob isn't his real name. Really, his name is not quite that easy. He's a junior. And Bob is pushing for a third. I am not. I do not want a third. Plus, our baby girl name is a play on Bob's middle name. I don't want a third, because then we wouldn't be able to use our girl name (should we ever have a girl).

At the top of my list is Charles David. And we'd call him Charlie. In fact, I already do. I refer to him as Charlie when I talk to people. When I talk to him, I call him Charlie. It's kinda stuck in my mind.

When Bob was born, his mother was against having a junior. In fact, his original birth certificate had an entirely different name on it. But then his dad begged, his mom relented, and so Bob ended up a junior (as the story goes). As I've told his mom (and the rest of the family), I'll be way more of a bitch than she was. I will not have a third. I will not give in during the 11th hour. I will not change my child's birth certificate once it's signed.

So. Charles David. Charlie. My Charlie Bear. It's what I'm pulling for. Let's hope it happens. Because we all know, when Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.