Seriously, SO BLESSED

Our babe is now legit.  Socially initiated.  He has been blessed.

In most Christian faiths babies are baptized soon after birth, but because we Mormons wait until children are at least eight years-old to be baptized we have a sort of naming blessing for them in Sacrament Meeting to introduce them into the records of the church.  One thing we miss out on: godparents.  

Zach:  I'll be honest, the only thing I know about godparents is that I think Rafiki was one and that they can be guilted into free babysitting.

Rafiki about to beat up some hyenas.  Not necessarily a godparental duty. 

  I love the idea of godparents.  To have someone other than the parents chosen to take an interest in the child's spiritual upbringing and personal development seems like a marvelous idea because, as I’m already learning, we parents need all the help we can get.  We chose my cousin Anthon and his beautiful German wife Melissa (you thought we weren’t serious, didn’t you guys?) as Eli’s godparents.  In addition to being spectacular people, they can offer Eli serious culture that Zach and I (both born and raised in Provo) might be lacking.

Coincidentally, it was Melissa who took these amazing pictures at Eli’s blessing.

The mini man of the hour

Newly minted padres

The Judkins grandparents

The Magleby grandparents

Eli with cousin Oliver.  They'll be more thrilled about each other later.

I love this picture.  I love that baby.

Apparently we are allowed one more Godparent, so applications are still open.   The prerequisites, as seen, include being pretty awesome and able to take cute pictures of Eli so we can gush about him in our blog.  Oh, and free babysitting.

Progress has been made

The majority of the time we are in the steady, predictable, mostly event-less churn of life, but this last month has marked a few definable points of accomplishment:

Zach is DONE

He is officially finished with his didactic learning.  (And yes, I did look that word up privately after I pretended I knew what it meant when Zach used it on me.)  Now all that's left is a year of six week rotations left before he's a full-fledged pharmacist.  I am so relieved to be done with tests and projects and agonizing over grades that aren't even mine.

Our marriage turned THREE

I think we can both agree that this last year of wedded bliss has been the most eventful so far.  My graduation, becoming pregnant, moving to Salt Lake, my first real job, new car, first time making edible curry (albeit STRONG curry), a trip to California, having a baby, and Zach finishing his classes made for a thrilling time.

We decided to celebrate by blowing all our rewards points on Ruth's Chris Steakhouse and we have since come to the conclusion that it was totally worth it as long as you never look at the bill.  But in all seriousness, the quality of the food was out of this world AND they gave us free desert.

Eli sleeps THROUGH THE NIGHT

I would not wish the first six weeks of motherhood on anyone.  I don't understand when people say they wish their babies would stop growing or that they were that small again.  They have obviously forgotten the nitty-gritty of newborns.  Yes, your baby is cute (when he's not screaming, spitting up or pooping) and yes it's fun to discover life with your new addition (when you're not also discovering your body post-pregnancy) and his poop isn't THAT stinky (it's just all over you and those 10 diapers a day) and sure he's precious when he's awake (even if all he does is STARE, and not necessarily at you) but the exhaustion of sleep deprivation makes you see it all through foggy glasses. 

Now that he sleeps on a predictable schedule, smiles, laughs, and is not constantly cross-eyed I am enjoying the slow return of my sanity after diving into motherhood.   Watching Eli progress day after day is the great joy of my life.

Back to work

I had mixed feeling when I learned that my property management job was willing to let me come back part time.  Turns out it's a sweet gig- working makes me appreciate the time I have at home and being at home makes me appreciate time at work.  Sometimes being completely strapped for cash is a blessing in disguise.

Ignorance is bliss



There are really only three occasions that I wish Eli were a girl instead of the chubby ball-o-boy that he is: when shopping for formal occasion outfits, when I see flowered headbands, and when I give him his baths.

Eli LOVES his baths.  You get him all squishably naked and lower him into that nice warm water and he just... relaxes.  And because he's so relaxed there's about a 50% chance that within the first 30 seconds of his bath you'll see a small fountain bubbling up as he adds his own addition to the water.

Peeing the bath usually results in much hullabaloo as I quickly yank him out, lay him screaming on the towel, rinse out the tub, and refill.  We both agree that it's a decidedly unpleasant experience, so much so that if it happens towards the end of his bath I seriously debate the merit of refilling the tub instead of just accepting an abrupt end to bath time and go straight to drying off.

As I was rehearsing this process for the 20th time last night I thought how nice it might be to have a girl and never really know if she had soiled her bath water or not.  I could always assume she hadn't and proceed happily on.  Then I remembered.

My mother-in-law introduced the modesty washcloth as a way of comforting the babe during the bath, but it also doubles as a pee-blocker.  Genius.  Now I never know what's going on down there unless it's being scrubbed.  And that's the way I like it. 

As my mother says, "The secret to the solution is dilution."

Evolution of a Cry

If only I had these to explain...

Slight discontent

Concern that slight discontent is not being addressed

The threat- true crying is about to come to a baby near you.



Ramping up (accompanied by much whimpering)



Trouble



Don't tell me you don't believe in the sausage ostrich

Easter at the Judkins house this year was a fine affair.  The third biggest highlight of the day was that the Easter bunny brought way too much candy for the parental baskets (not pictured due to the lack of remaining candy- we're ashamed) and the Grandma Easter bunny saved Eli from having an Easter basket consisting of baby sunscreen (not pictured because Mom forgot).

Eli shared his versatile portfolio of faces...

Ok, so they're not that varied, but when this face is what you look at all day they're wildly different.  We're just trying to fulfill the first purpose of this blog.

The second biggest highlight of the day was that we captured Eli's smile on camera for the first time:

Ok, semi-smile.  It's much cuter in person.

And the biggest highlight of the day was meeting our new nephew and cousin Oliver.  Congratulations Steve and Tasha!  Now that Arianne and Carter announced they're having a boy in August that makes three boy grandbabies in one year- in a bumper crop!

We hope you and yours had a lovely Easter!

40 days and 40 nights

The night we brought Eli home from the hospital it was late.  We were exhausted.  I was a hormonal and swollen pendulum of emotions.  Zach was overwhelmed with lack of sleep and the thought of going back to school the next day.  We thought if we could just change his diaper, feed him, and get him to sleep then maybe we could recover just a little piece of normality and sleep together in our own bed.

We brought the screaming bundle into our living room (first car seat ride, not fun), unloaded him, laid out all the changing and pajama necessities, and Zach began to change his diaper while I anxiously hovered nearby.  At the exposure of his red little circumcision (and a very poopy diaper) Eli began to shriek and suddenly there was a squirt of liquid coming from nowhere.  It sprayed the wall, it sprayed me, and when Zach manfully sacrificed his hand to stem the flow it downsprayed all the clothes and diaper preparations we had just made.  When it finally ended we looked at each other in shock until I spied baby poop gushing out onto the changing table.  By the time we got that cleaned up Eli had reloaded his squirt gun and was firing again.

At this point I was laughing so hard that I lost what little postpartum control I had over my bladder and had to rush to the bathroom and leave Zach to do disaster cleanup.  When I finally got to bed that night I laid there convinced we were doomed to be wretched parents.  I had no idea what I'd gotten myself into.

 I would like to think that in the 40 days and nights that we've had Eli home that we've improved.  We figure that in that time that I've fed him over 400 times and we've changed over 500 diapers.  His crib has migrated from the side of our bed to the hallway to the doorway of his bedroom to up against the far wall of the nursery as our confidence in his crying ability has grown.  We've learned that poops come in threes.  We no longer use five wipes on one poopy diaper.  We no longer wash any article of clothing or blanket that might have come in contact with a bodily fluid and if it did, and if it's already dry... well then.

Eli has accomplished much in the first six weeks of his life:

Outgrown the first size of diapers

 Learned to love baths, especially when given by Grandma

 Become a weightlifting expert

Won the hearts of cute sister missionaries for his Uncle Austin

Established the order of hierarchy with his cousin McKenna

Practiced his baby modeling extensively

 Informed his parents of his continued disdain for his car seat

Discovered the camera

and mastered the art of Superman Sleeping

Six weeks later we're still exhausted, Zach's school is still overwhelming, and I am, on occasion, the tiniest bit hormonal.  But six weeks is just enough time to make us wonder what we ever did without this little man.

Announcing the arrival of one Eli Scott

Because the little chap was a little TOO comfortable in my stomach, we ended up the last resort: induction.  We started early Tuesday morning and it was a looooonnggg day of waiting.

According to our birthing class, there are four stages of labor:

1. Early Labor

2. Active Labor

3. Transition

4. Birth

But let's be real.  There's really only three stages:

1. Pre-epidual

2. Post-epidural

3. Pushing

I had thought to hold off on the epidural as long as possible, "just to see" what it was like.  Worst idea ever.  Zach went to run an errand right after letting me squeeze the life out of his hands while I tried to hold still during contractions and epidural injection.  He left a distracted, tense, and pained wife.  He came back to a completely new woman- relaxed, happy, and ready to wait out the baby on a calm sea of blissful medication.

Until the pushing.  Oh the pushing.  I pushed until my face turned purple while Zach counted during my contractions. But Eli had his shoulder stuck so it wasn't until doctors descended en masse on my birth canal and squished his enormous head aside to unhook it that I felt the pressure let up.

Eli Scott was born at 10:32 pm after 14 hours of labor.  A few tense minutes of meconium suction later and we heard the first cry. After that we could finally meet the squirming, kicking wriggler that we'd been imagining all these months.  At 9 lbs 5 oz and 21 inches long he was a bit of a hefty surprise.  But as my doctor said, "Look at you, look at your mom, and look at your husband.  Did you really expect a small baby?"

Our hospital stay was punctuated by more than our fair share of visits from every shift of nursing staff, nursing supervisors, pediatrician teams, lactation consultants, social workers, med students, and housekeeping.  They hauled Eli away for test after test so it wasn't exactly a restful recovery.  But in the end we had a healthy baby (any problem would've been spotted by 8 million healthcare practitioners), so it was all worth it.

Eli did NOT like his first bath.  His handled the second one only minimally better.

We loved getting visitors in the hospital to oooooh and awww over our child and confirm to our bloated little egos that we had produced one gorgeous baby.  Yep, we're THAT kind of parents.

I couldn't believe they let us just take this precious bundle home.