Sunny With A Chance of 100 Degrees in May-AHHHH!!!

It's too hot here in L.A. It has been 90-100+ for a few weeks now and it is disgusting. I mean c'mon, it's MAY not July-October (the hottest months here). If it is this hot already I will want to die in "summer". Someone devise a way to have a personal flurry follow me around like Olaf in Frozen. Seriously, I want to be in snow all of the time. I hate being hot. I function best in 20-60 degree weather. Ahhh, it's too hot!

Okay, so here's the deal. Motherhood-awesome, amazing, loving it. Seriously, I am. Also it is hard as fuck man. Monday I was so exhausted I cried because my kid peed on me and my husband said the most obvious thing, cover up his penis, which I was wiping at the time so I got so upset I locked myself in the bathroom and cried. I'm not embarrassed about it. I was frigging tired man from the weekend of suckage that was my first mama's day. This parenthood stuff is no joke. Joe and I are realizing we're just going to be tired for forever now. That's just the way it is. We cannot schedule it out to make it easier. Trust me we are trying and it is NOT working. We're just going to be tired and slightly resent the other person who gets to sleep. That is truth right there.

But I cannot stress enough how much I love my kid. My heart could figuratively explode with all the love I feel for him. Also sometimes I want to scream from how frustrated he can make me feel. But then he'll giggle or smile with his little dimple or fall asleep on me and I melt. He's perfect to me. It's ridiculous. I am a roller coaster of emotions and I really thought that would end as the pregnancy hormones dissipated. Joke was on me. All the parent things in t.v. shows and movies, I now side with the parent and just frigging bawl. Ariel saying "I love you daddy", I.am.a.mess. Teenagers being horrible to their parents, go parents for dealing with that ish. Kids hugging their mama, dying. Ri.Dic.U.Lous.

This year I can say I know at least 30 people who have had or are about to have a child. Good luck ladies. I am a mess. An amazing mess but a mess nonetheless. My house is a wreck, okay it's only a tiny one bedroom apartment not a house, and it's a wreck. Don't judge me. I'm working and tired and raising a kid and it's hard to clean your space up when all you want to do is sleep for 2000 years but there is a baby screaming to get on your boob and when he's not you just want to watch him be adorable and help him developmentally. I cannot express how many stupid books I have read, the plans for sign language, the developmental toys, the amount of cloth books I read over and over, the tummy time we are both doing so I can help this boy-o have a leg up hopefully. I'm sure none of the grand plans I have for early sign language to speaking to reading and writing will really make that much of a huge difference but I am crazy enough to think "well what if it does, I should stress myself out any way possible if it helps Finny". I'm a nut job. Also I miss hanging out with friends. Most times I want to sleep but I really would love to see people. It's hard to make an effort though. Yesterday was the day I FINALLY showered after being so disgusting for 5 days and not showering. But it was honestly just to tough to find the time or effort to clean myself. I get it, I'm gross. Whatever.

I'm honestly okay with this new found grossness and lameness most of the time. However, I get these pangs of realizing I'm a social person and desperately need to hang out with someone or get attention and thus I try a little too hard I think. It's okay, I know I'll figure it out. Currently I am desperately clinging to friends who are parents and get why I'm insane, stalking pals on Facebook, desperately texting/calling friends for contact, and trying to plan the occasional outing to save my sanity. One thing I am currently looking forward to is the 5th Annual Vegan Beer Fest this Saturday. Joe and I have never missed one and I am especially excited about this one. Granted I cannot drink like I usually do but I will eat the crap out of the food and see some pals and enjoy some great beer. It's going to be epic.

The other two things I am looking forward to: Joe walks tomorrow for his PhD after 11 years of college (3 undergrad, 3 masters, 5 PhD program)!!! SO FRIGGING EXCITED ABOUT THIS! We have a doctor in the house, well a doctor of mathematics, so that's pretty [nerdy] cool. Also Finn & I fly back to MI to introduce him to his aunts and uncles on my side. I cannot contain my excitement about my brothers and sisters meeting my little dude! It is going to be such an awesome time. I know they will love the crap out of him just like I do. Plus my ma and pops are going nuts about getting to see him again since they miss him so much. And I am going to meet up with some pals in my hometown so it's going to be a great trip. YAY! I am just a little nervous about traveling via plane with Finny solo. He'll only be 4 months so I want to be sure I am ready to go with anything he may need on the plane (e.g. boob juice, diapers, wipes, burp clothes, rattle, blanket, etc.). Hopefully the traveling part goes REALLY well. I just cannot wait!

This peek into my mind/life really reveals how frigging random and insane I am. *Sigh* Well enjoy. I am crazy, it's cool. Exhaustion just lets it creep out a little bit more than usual and I am okay with it. Judge me if you want, I'm honestly too tired and crazy to care. Now off to snuggle my giant (seriously he's HUGE: an ounce short of 16lbs. at his 3 month check up 2 weeks ago and 26.25" long). Adios chickens!

 

Sunny With A Chance of Mother's Day

Subtitle: How I Spent my First Mother's Day Weekend


Sometimes you spend your first Mother's Day eve working your job on your day off, come home take care of your sick feverish husband and your extra cranky three month old, cry twice, do 6 sinkfuls of dishes, dry and put away all the dishes, clean the bathroom, take out two bags of trash and two arm loads of recycling, then realize you've stayed up until 4am, and the entire time you were breast feeding about every 2 hours. Good times.

I've come to realize any holiday or event that revolves around me is pretty much always a bust. I have horrible luck with birthday celebrations (friends find it easy to ditch, forget, or be too busy), this last bday was great as I had my baby shower but Joe was in a foul mood and kinda wrecked everything but the shower so thank goodness for the ladies who have me a great few hours that day-they're the best. Seriously though, parties or celebrations for me tend to go to crap quite fast and Joe admittedly sucks at remembering dates and never does presents or makes any kind of to-do about those events which usually I don't care (minus bdays, they're a big deal damn it!) but I had hopes, okay expectations, that this very first Mother's Day (the only first one I get) would be amazingly wonderful. It would consist of me sleeping in until 9am before having to be my child's dairy service, receiving breakfast in bed (French toast and vegan breakfast sausages please with o.j. and tea), staying in my pjs, getting a lovely card with a note from Joe about how happy he is I'm the mother of his child, a little trinket with Finny's initial or birth date on it, flowers, a call to my mom to wish her a great day, a call to my grandma to do the same, some mom movies that would make me tear up, a nice dinner with a dessert, then snuggles and sleep. Instead I have a super sick husband which means I get nothing for my first mom's day and there will be no make me feel special stuff as he needs to rest and get better, it also means that the week's worth of dishes and laundry are on me and need to be done tomorrow as it became my only day off since I worked Monday through Saturday this week, plus caring for the boy-o and the two pups and taking care of Joe. Huzzah what a wondrous day. Can I have a do over?








My actual Mother's Day day was me waking up 8am, feeding little boy-o and then spending the rest of the day doing laundry, taking care of baby & husband, walking the dogs, folding laundry & putting it away, and then being in major hip/back pain from lifting all that laundry all over our apartment complex and doing 6 sinks of dishes. My body is so jacked up. I did receive beautiful pink tulips from my folks though and got some lovely messages from friends & family. But still first mama's day was a BUST.

I guess I must be a real mama now because this day that was supposed to be about celebrating me pushing a two foot and twelve pound baby out but it became about me mom-ing the crap out of everyone in my household. It's for realz now suckers. *sigh* I guess I did learn the true meaning of mother's day this year, last year I was pregnant (only just) and it wasn't really real to me; this year I spent the weekend doing things that moms do-taking care of everything. I get it now. Being a mom isn't always glamorous, okay 99% of the time it's not but it is so worth it and rewarding. These 4 dudes all rely on me and love me. That's pretty awesome if you think about it. I am hurting though physically, oof. Need to work this broken body back into pre-pregnancy and pre-surgery shape. Time to call a physical therapist and hit the pool at my gym ASAP.

All I know is Joe better not expect much for Father's Day. Oh who am I kidding, I'll Leslie Knope the shit out of that day because that's the kind of wife and mom I am. Dammit. There's always next year right?

I won't hold my breath. Whining over now. Happy Mother's Day fellow moms, we fecking deserve it.

 

Sunny With A Chance Of Crazy People

Parent judgment runs rampant I swear. When I was pregnant I got loads of "you need to do _______" and "You should be doing ______". Now with Finn here it's this and LOADS of judgment about any and every little thing we do or do not do.

"You're vegan?! That can't be good for him or you breastfeeding"
"You're not going to make him be vegan too are you?"
"You should use formula to supplement"
"You should co-sleep"
"You should not co-sleep and he should be on a sleep schedule"
"You need to use lanolin"
"You should vaccinate as the Pediatrics society schedule exactly"
"You should vaccinate on an alternative schedule to avoid all the mercury in the shots"
"How can you say you're vegan but breastfeed?"
"Why aren't you using pacifiers?!"
"Are you going to teach him sign language?"
"You should only cloth diaper"
"Cloth diapers are stupid"

On and on and on until I want to punch people. WHY ARE WE JUDGING EACH OTHER SO RIDICULOUSLY ABOUT PARENTING? Listen, call me crazy, but I think the majority of parents are doing their damnedest to do the very best for their kids. Everyone is going to parent differently, make different parenting choices, have different things that work well for their kid but not another person's kid so quit judging their decisions. We're all doing our best!

I'm vegan, you're not. Great. I'm not judging you, don't judge me. You want your kid to drink cow's milk, I don't. Great. No judgment. You use disposable diapers, I use cloth. Great. You use a pacifier, I don't. Great. You want your kid to be a specific religion, I don't care. Great. Your kid hated swings, mine loves it. You used an Ergo, I have a Becco. You used separate car seats and stroller, I have a travel system. GREAT! And may I add, who cares. What works for you and your kid, works for you and your kiddo. It may not for me or mine. Can't we all just say things like "Hey this works for me, maybe it'll work for you" or "My little one seemed to really respond to ______, maybe give that a shot". This is a great way to help (if asked) without making another parent feel like you're telling them they're doing it wrong.

I just feel like as parents we're all so worried we're screwing it up anyway and we all feel like we have no clue what the fuck we're doing so we all just do the best we can. I know I personally feel that way and so I research the shit out of everything and then go with what my gut (& of course the husband's gut) tells me. I do what I feel is right after researching and educating myself as much as possible. I ulcerate over even the most minor of decisions so when someone tells me I "have to" or "should" or "need" to do something it usually just makes me internally say things like "I'm not an idiot", "I am going to do what I feel is best", "shut up", "do you think I haven't thought about this or researched this extensively", "my son HATES that", or sometimes "fuck off".

I know I try really hard not to judge others' decisions and choices in life in general and as a new parent I really am not judging anyone's choices (unless you harm your child on purpose and then I judge you an awful lot because that is fucked up) because I feel like mine are so painstakingly wrought over I figure so is everyone's parenting choices. Let's all just support each other a bit more, eh? I mean none of us are perfect so none of us can be the perfect parent, so why not help each other out to be the best parents we can be? Call me crazy but I think that may be the best way to help our kids reach their fullest potential and help them to see that we can all get along even if we're different.

Take care dear chickens. Know I support you!
 

Sunny With A Chance of Baby Obsession!

Alright, I confess, I'm obsessed with my son. I'm back to work from 9am-2pm but the rest of the time is spent loving up on Finny. Don't get me wrong, we have MAJOR frustrations on the regular but I cannot stop loving up on this kiddo. He is too delicious for words. My folks came out from MI and they too are now obsessed with him. He's so sweet and cute and curious and smart and, well, just delicious.

 I mean, how cute is he? He is a giant of curse. At his one month check up he was already 12lbs. 8oz. and 24.25"! Such a tall guy. I love him like crazy. He is in a growth spurt again too because he wants to feed all the time and my poor boobs are killing me from it. I am really glad to be exclusively breastfeeding but they do not tell you how sensitive your boobs become and how everything from a cold breeze to a speed bump can KILL them. Oof. And sleep is crazy right now. He won't go to sleep until 1 or 2 am then gives me a good 2-5 hours, then feeds, then sleeps for 2 hours, then feeds, the sleeps and this cycle happens all day until about 5pm and then he's up for the day until the wee hours. Now that I'm back to work that makes for a sleepy mama. It's much better though now that he can sleep for a 5 hour stretch. I was going insane those first few weeks. That is why having my folks here was extra amazing. Not only did they meet Finn but they helped and let me eat a full meal and take naps. It was heaven.

We also went up to Santa Barbara with my folks which was gorgeous and such a lovely time. We're trying to convince them to move up there so we can visit all the time! It would be perfect and then Finny could see them regularly.

I mean how gorgeous is that for the end of February/beginning of March?! And it was 70s the whole time. My parents were pretty happy to get out of the polar vortex into the sunshine and warm weather.

That's my quickie update for now. Finn is perfect and I love him. Hope all is well with you dear chickens!

 

Mostly Sunny With A Chance of Exhausted Crazy Mama

Holy crap being a new mom is frigging HARD. Like really hard. They tell you it's the toughest job you'll ever have but what they don't tell you is that you'll be up all night with a cluster-feeding baby who is super fussy and doesn't get full and you have a cracked nipple from the very first feed where he bit you. That you won't sleep more than 15 minutes at a time and that most nights you get a total of 2-3 hours and that your husband who cannot function without sleep will sleep through most of it driving you crazy with irrational anger towards him. Don't get me wrong Joe is amazing, changing the baby all the time and doing everything around the house because P.S. if you push a 12lb. baby out you cannot walk or move properly even at 2 weeks postpartum. You will have days where you're so tired and you fight with your husband who is also tired and the baby won't stop nursing and you cry a lot. You feel like you hate your baby even though you love your baby. You feel like the worst mom ever. You feel so crappy like you were bubblegum scraped off the bottom of someone's shoe. You haven't showered in forever, you smell, your hair is in the frizziest 'fro like state you've ever seen it in, you've been wearing the same pajamas for forever, and you are still not always able to control your bladder leading to the occasional pee your pants episode so you've given in and just started wearing the lady version of depends. Breastfeeding your kiddo leaves you exhausted and sore and drained. It feels like your baby is literally draining you of everything, your energy, your nutrients, your life-force. You'll get light-headed because you've not eaten enough. You drink water like you're traveling the Sahara on foot. You get moments where you need to eat NOW and I mean now or you and someone else will die. You'll get 2 nights where your little one sleeps in 3 hour spans and it is heaven and you feel like you've made it only to then get a night where you a literally awake all but 35 minutes of the night and those 35 minutes were broken up into 3 tiny naps and you feel like you've sunk into the 9th circle of hell.

And then. And then your little nugget falls asleep on your chest after a good feed, cooing, and snuggling you, and you look down at him and cry because he is so damned perfect and precious and you did that and you are feeding him from your own body and you are giving him your everything and it all seems worth it. Your exhaustion, your irrational hate-fire, your crying jags, your feeling like a crazy smelly chewed up wad of gum on the bottom of a shoe is all worth it for this little moment of amazing. Then you think this, this is what being a parent is about. And every parent deserves a goddamn medal and a 3 week spa retreat in fucking Hawaii. This shit is so hard. Seriously, SO HARD. It is also so worth it. All of it. And I know I'm crazy and exhausted and hungry and sore in my hips and boobs and angry and so tired, but, but I am also so full of love and gratitude and peace and grace about this all.

To those who have stopped by to help us out, with a meal, or a visit where you held little Finn so I could go to the bathroom, or sent us some take-out, or given us items from our registry-THANK YOU. You have no idea how much it means to us. For those who had said you would help us out when little man came, please come by. We need your help. We're tired, we're crazy, we're hungry, we're broke and I am not too proud to say it. It takes a village and we need our tribe near us now for our own sanity. Parenting is hard man. Friends make it easier. I honestly cannot wait until my folks get here next week, it will be amazing to see them and to take a nap while grandma and grandpa watch Finny. Oh nap, I cannot wait to be all up in you...

Fellow parents, I have a new found respect and awe for you. Single parents, you are AMAZING to me. Seriously. I am in awe of you parents. Straight up in awe. This is the hardest thing I've done so far, the most worthwhile and the hardest. Now I'm off to feed my little man more boob juice. I got a whole 30 minutes to write this up so I'll call that a win. :)

Update as of 11:20pm on 2/22-I did not sleep all night or day. Finn spent the entire time on my boobs or fussing or screaming in hanger. We went to the pump station to see and LC for help at my most desperate today after crying for an hour. She's not available until Monday. I watched Youtube videos to try to help us, I read website after website, I went on the mommy forums I'm part of on Facebook for more helpful hints. Little man would not be satisfied today. He finally fell asleep for an hour and a half at 5pm. I slept an hour. He's been nursing now and sleeping for about 1-2 hours since thank god. Today was a TOUGH day. Breastfeeding mamas-you are all goddesses. Know that. This shit is HARD.
 

Sunny With A Chance of A Son!

Joe and I celebrated 8 years together yesterday. EIGHT. We didn't do anything special, just wished each other a happy anniversary multiple times throughout the day and smooched a bunch but it feels pretty momentous. Eight years ago at that fateful No Pants Party we became a couple. I'm so grateful to have found him. He's my best friend, my husband, the father to our pups and now son. I love that man so much.

Holy shit I have a son! AHHHH! I gave birth on 2/5/14 after waiting FOREVER for this stubborn little boy to make his debut. He finally joined the world and we could not be more in love with him.


The birth story, oof, get ready...

 Monday (2/3/14) I woke up at 8AM and went to the bathroom and when I wiped it had the pink snotty look. I called my mom to verify it was my mucus plug, she said it sounded like it, then I started having some contractions so we both got excited. I hung up with her and jumped in the shower and then went to my OB appointment at 10. I told them about losing my plug and the contractions, when the OB came in she wanted to check me. I was at 80% effaced and 1cm dilated. So we did the fetal heart monitoring and checked my fluids on ultrasound and little boy looked good. She said to go home and labor there as she thought he might come that night or Tuesday morning. So Joe and I got really excited and went home. I called work to let them know I was in labor and called my team to let them know I would miss the show that night. I called my doula, my pal Jenn, who is a registered nurse. She was on a 12 hour shift in the ICU at UCLA so when she was done she'd come over. I called my pal Kathy (who I've known since first grade) and she was going to drive up from San Diego that evening to be here. I labored at home all day and that evening. Everyone rolled up after dinner time. We all stayed up pretty much all night, they all crashed around 3:30am-8am. I slept in maybe 10-15 minute intervals from 3-6am waking up with every contraction.

Tuesday I kept laboring and the OB called around 12pm to ask how everything was going. She was worried since I didn't come into the hospital that night. I said I was great just laboring and she told me to go to the hospital and get checked just in case. They could always send me home. So I ate some ramen and Joe did a load of dishes and we all headed into Cedars Sinai. I got checked into Labor & Delivery and we waited about an hour or so for the midwife to come check me out. By then I was dilated 5.5cm and at 100% effaced and baby was at negative 2 station. So they decided to keep me there. I labored in the hospital for awhile. Things were going well, contractions were getting longer and stronger and closer together.

 At 4:58am on Wednesday my water broke, I felt a gush of liquid and it was clear. Later the liquid turned a bit brownish so they said it was a plus one meconium and we needed to watch it to make sure it didn't get worse. That also meant that a pediatric team would need to be there at delivery to check baby boy to make sure he didn't aspirate any of the meconium. The contractions then got unbearably strong. I got 3 shots of fentanyl (1 every hour) they took the edge off the contractions but that was all I could get so then the pain came back and I felt nauseous from it and the nurse said I turned green. Joe convinced me to just get the epidural even though I hadn't wanted to before. The pain just felt so localized to where I had my spine surgery, it felt unbearable. They hooked me up at 7:52am to the epidural and that was sweet relief. Then labor slowed. Contractions were every 5-7 minutes from the every 1-2 they were before. I stalled at 8cm dilated, still 100% and baby was at 0 station. The doctor really recommended the pitocin even though I didn't want to as she had waited until 1:30pm and I was just stuck. She said she would give me 2 more hours to try to make something happen by shifting positions in bed. At 3:30pm I was still stuck so we did the pitocin and did loads more shifting. They up-ed the pitocin VERY slowly since I didn't want it and baby boy's heart rate stayed steady and he was a champ. I started to get a little fever so they were watching me and then decided to put me on antibiotics just to be safe for little man for delivery.

By 7pm I had finally hit 10cm (which no one could believe, even me) and I was fully dilated and baby was down to a +1 to +2 station-it was amazing news. So the OB gave the go ahead that I could push and try to get baby further down. We started pushing at 7:52pm. For about an hour or so it was just to get him to a +3 station. Then we really started pushing to get him to the pubic bone. He kept getting in and going back. They let me watch in a mirror when you could actually see he head start to poke through a bit. It was CRAZY. And my labia was so swollen and purple and totally unrecognizable. I'm glad I looked but so weird!

Then the doctor was called and came in, she really couldn't believe how well I was doing. I was in stirrups with my doula pushing on one leg and Kathy pushing on the other leg. I was holding and pulling on handlebars. Joe was giving me water in between each push. I pushed more, they put me on oxygen in between pushes to help with baby and my fever spiked to 101 due to pushing and hard contractions. Baby was in my pelvic bone then and we were working so hard to get him through. Those last 30-45 minutes of pushing were awful, the plastic smell of the oxygen, then extreme pressure in my undercarriage, feeling like I couldn't breathe and being told to slow down my breathing, then the horrible pressure to push only to work so hard and not get him through. It was tough. I got to the point where I was just wishing for an episiotomy to get him through. Then I was pushing and he started to come and it felt like I was being torn open and burned with a blow torch at the same time. They kept saying push to 10, now give me 5, now 3, and out from somewhere deep inside came the most primal scream I've ever made or heard. It just burst out and he came out too. I guess my OB had grabbed his head and twisted him and helped pull his body out while I was pushing it. Then it was the relief of the burning stopping and the feel of a huge gush of blood and they put him on my tummy.

 The cord was short so they had Joe cut it right away. The drugs had TOTALLY stopped working for me at that point. Once he was cut they put him on my chest and were wiping him and I was crying and saying "that's my baby, that's my precious baby". Pediatrics said he looked a little blue so they took him to the warmer. The doctor was pushing my placenta down with "massage" on my belly (which really feels like they're reaming on you). She delivered my placenta which apparently was HUGE and had the entire caul intact which I guess never really happens. They packaged that up for my doula to take and turn into capsules for me.

Then whilst my OB began to use 4 shots of lidocaine to numb my vag (redheads are notorious for high anesthesia tolerance) to sew me up the peds team announced my boy was 11lbs. 15oz. and the whole room erupted with "WHOA!" and "Oh my god" and "Damn" and "TWELVE POUNDS!", then they read off his length of 23" and Joe cut the excess cord off and they suctioned his mouth and nose just in case. They put him back on my chest while I was being stitched up and ow-ing because it still wasn't all the way numb. The OB and nurse told me that I tore completely normally for a first time mom and that they were shocked it wasn't more as I'm a redhead and he was so huge.

I held our boy and Joe came over and I asked Joe if he looked like our Finnigan and Joe said yes. We both cried a little and smooched him and each other. It just felt so complete right then. After that we thanked everyone so much, the girls hugged me, I thanked the nurses and the OB. I just felt so overcome with gratitude for our little man, for a healthy baby, for a great though painful delivery, and for everyone who supported us. The room slowly began to clear out. They wrapped up the stitching and gave me a catheter when I couldn't pee in a bed pan to empty my very full bladder. The nurse helped pad me up and put on the mesh undies. They had me breastfeed Finn. They transferred me to a roller bed since I couldn't walk to get to a wheelchair. Then they wheeled us off to the mama wing and everyone congratulated us on the way.

All the nurses on the newborn wing were so sweet and Joe went to the nursery for Finn's first bath (he pooped FOUR times during his bath), he passed all his screeners, got his vitamin k and eye drops, was dressed and swaddled, ate some more, and then we all passed out. All the nurses agreed he was the biggest baby they had ever seen delivered vaginally (a.k.a. I'm crazy) so they all called him big guy and me wonder woman and everyone agreed he was the cutest baby. Loads of jokes about him being toddler sized over the next couple days. Pediatrician said he was doing great (our first appointment was Monday-all looks great!) and my OB came back the next day and checked me and said I was swollen but that it all looked great. So we got all cleared to leave Friday once the pediatrician checked the circumcision my OB did Thursday night.

All in all it was a crazy, painful, horrible, miraculous, amazing process and I wouldn't do anything differently. I'm glad I went sans drugs as long as I could, I'm glad I got them when I really needed them, I'm glad the pitocin went really slow and worked, and I am so glad I delivered him myself. I know I can do anything now. And my heart is so full. I cannot even express how grateful I feel and how in bliss I am. It really is a hormone high. I just love that little guy and Joe and our friends and our pups and our nurses so much. It's ridiculous.

We've been home a full week now and I just cannot get enough of this baby boy. He's perfect. Every breath, cry, snuggle, smile, poop, coo, everything just seems so right. I love being his mama already. He is the love and light of my life. His puppy brothers love him something awful and cannot stop giving him little licks and sniffs all the time. Joe is so smitten with "his baby". We all just love this Lil' Dude so much. After 60 hours of labor, 3 hours of pushing, all 11 lbs. 15 oz. and 23" of him is all ours and we cannot get enough. He's our precious boy, Finnigan.