Saturday, September 26, 2009

Pax Augustus

Pax Augustus was born on Thursday, September 24, 2009 at 8:47 a.m. He weighed 6 lbs, 5 oz and was 20 inches long. His first name, Pax, is Latin and means Peace. Additionally, Jeff and I met at St. Mary's College, near the Patuxant River - Pax River for short. I delivered Pax in a beautiful, peace-filled, unmedicated water birth - a fitting name indeed. My mother had the honor of choosing his middle name, and she chose Augustus, a Seehaver family name stretching back six generations. We love the name, too, because her birth month is August, and thus it directly honors her as well...

In the featured photo, Pax is wearing a hat, also known as a "Magic Hanky," made and given to us by Julie Martell
The Magic Hanky
I'm just a little hankie, as pretty as can be;
And with a stitch or two, a bonnet was made from me.
I can be wron home from the hospital or on your baptismal day
And then I will be tucked away
to await your wedding day.

On your wedding day, a hanky I will be,
for every bride needs something old,
and surely I will be.
Since you happen to be a boy,
and someday you may marry,
you can give your lovely bride
a hanky she can carry.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Waiting and patience have never been my forte, nor will they ever be in the future. I am waiting. I am more than ready for this baby to be born, because I want to meet him and I want to see my feet again and I want to drink beer with my husband again. I want to fall in love with the newest member of our family and I want to ooh and aah over every tiny feature of his little self.

I've been resisting writing a blog entry because I simply wanted the next one I wrote to be a birth announcement. I've been working on some "drafts" of future posts in the meantime, but "write true feelings on blog" has been nagging me for a few days now. Although my due date is still (!) two days away, I am feeling especially anxious and hopeful that I will have this baby by Friday, because my midwife is suddenly going out of town on the 26th, and won't return for two weeks. While I know everything will still be fine if Friday comes and goes with no baby, I clearly chose to have a midwife for a reason (or twelve) and I am fervently hoping she can see me through to the end.

It's hard to put into words exactly how I am feeling, except I think it's fair to say that I'm feeling it all. I can't think of another time in one's life when one can feel happy, excited, depressed, anxious, scared, elated, nervous, thrilled, sad, wistful, envious, selfish, ornery, mean, witchy, and nostalgic all at once. I bet I skipped about 10 other emotions in that list, even.

I'm ready. I couldn't be more ready, more excited, more impatient to meet this boy. And you won't hear from me here until I do! Here are a few quotes I collected while ruminating over the long wait.

"All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope" Alexander Dumas Pere

"Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting - that is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow."

"Patience is not passive; on the contrary, it is active; [patience] is concentrated strength." Edward Bulwer-Lytton

(Based on this last one, you might just want to call me Hercules from now on!!)

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Survival Tips

A random collection of tips for surviving parenting.... my favorite discoveries, at least!

1. If you are completely exhausted and need a break, but are feeling way too guilty about too much TV to justify a movie, turn it into an "event." Call it "movie night." Have everyone put on their PJ's, regardless of what time it is. Grab blankets and pillows, make some popcorn, and voila! Suddenly, you're not an exhausted mom (or dad) parking her kids in front of the TV, you're the cool and creative mom who has created a veritable movie theater in the family room!

2. At bathtime, again if you're exhausted or if you simply need a pick-me-up, soak your feet in the tub while the kids play. They will find this hilarious, and you will feel rejuvenated by the time it's time to dry off. Seriously - this is the best part of bathing the kids!

3. Location, location, location! If you were too exhausted to go to the grocery store as you'd planned that day, and felt too guilty about ordering out or going out, call it a "picnic dinner" and enjoy those PBJ's parked on a blanket in the middle of the family room. Or, call it a "camp out," turn out all the lights, and light some candles. Voila! Another face saving evening. Your lame PBJ dinner suddenly becomes a cherished memory.

4. If you feel you absolutely will not survive the bickering, pestering, antagonizing behavior from your children, and if you are about to Lose Your Cool and Blow a Gasket, simply get out your ipod, plug in, and tune out. This really disarms your children because they know you can still see them but not hear them. They know you are tuning out. They are curious about this, and they usually stop their bickering, pestering, and antagonizing - at least long enough for you to get your groove on to Jack Johnson or the Black Eyed Peas or whomever - enough to regain your cool.

5. Then promptly open a bottle of wine and indulge in a glass.

6. If said ipod + glass of wine trick does nothing for the bickering, pestering, and antagonizing, try this approach - take one child and plop him onto the kitchen counter while you continue to attempt to make the delectable, nutritious, and semi-creative meal you've been trying to make for the past half hour. The other kids can't reach him, he can't get down because the counter is too tall, and peace is restored..... for a few minutes, at least. Summon your husband/partner to arrive home with all your mental might. If said spouse is unable to arrive home because of demanding and very necessary bread-winning job, consider reverting to "lame" PBJ dinner and see above.

7. Making school lunches is not a fun job. I marvel at the fact that my father made my lunch for me, every day, until I graduated from high school. Especially because I insisted that he make the sandwich the morning of school, not the night before, because it did not please my palate when it tasted "stale." Especially because he always asked how my lunch was, and I always managed to find SOMETHING wrong with it. Anyway. In order to survive the nightly ordeal, I've gotten into the habit of pre-packaging snacks for the entire week on Sunday afternoon. I pre-pack the grapes, pretzels, cheerios, tubes of yogurt, granola bars, and carrot sticks into individual bags, then place all the bags into a plastic bin that I store in the fridge. On school nights, I simply have to grab one of each, make the sandwich, and voila! Done. This is far from an original idea, but it is amazing how much of a difference it makes in the attitude toward packing lunches.

8. Listen. Sometimes kids say the most amazing and creative things when we are not listening. When we take a moment to silence ourselves and not speak, occasionally gems of beautifully spoken language emerge. (A word of caution, however. Sometimes you'll hear sailor-type words you wish you hadn't heard.) Tonight, we were reading a favorite bedtime story, The Imaginary Garden, a beautifully illustrated story about a girl and her grandfather who paint an imaginary garden on a large canvas on Papa's balcony, in lieu of the real thing. We finished it, and Leo wanted to go back a few pages. Sometimes I am too tired and try to rush through this. Tonight I was simply too tired to rush, so I just turned the page and waited. He pointed at the picture and said, "Why not Theo have any ice cream?" "What?" I asked, incredulous. "Why Theo's Papa not give her any ice cream?" he asked again. I replied, "Honey, it's just not part of the story...." "Oh.... Theo's Papa should get her some ice cream." (Apparently, Leo was savoring the memory of his own recently enjoyed dessert). Fine, I'm a sucker for literary connections, but this was a gem.

9. Laugh. As much as you can. And when you're faced with the choice to laugh or to cry, choose the former. This takes practice, but generally speaking, children provide ample opportunity to practice the "laugh over cry" choice.... plus, children provide the added advantage of allowing adults to laugh over things that really aren't appropriate in the grown-up world. Tooting in the bathtub still ranks very high on my list of Most Hilarious Things Ever, but I'd never admit that in real life.

10. Love. Sometimes, the thing that they least expect is the thing they need the most. A hug and a snuggle after a terrible tantrum - or to end the terrible tantrum. A warm embrace stops the nasty backtalking mid-sentence. Kissing them one last time before going to bed yourself, watching their peace-filled bodies deep in blissful sleep, knowing you have kept them safe and loved them well one more day - love.