Birthday Girls

Today was my 22nd birthday. Woo hoo.

One year ago today, I was housing a tiny sprout of a baby in my belly and had no idea. In fact, I still had three and a half weeks before I would even suspect a thing. I can't even begin to describe how drastically my life has changed in one year.

This time last year, I was tossing back Irish car bombs and shots of vodka. Today I enjoyed homemade pasta sauce with spinach ravioli, (and maybe a couple of peach mango martinis).

This time last year I put on four-inch heels to go out on the town. Today I wore a long-sleeved raglan that got covered in drool and some brand new fuzzy socks, courtesy of my grandmother.

This time last year, I celebrated my birthday with friends who wanted nothing more than to watch me pour liquor down my throat. Today I took care of my daughter, the same as I have for the last three and a half months.

When I woke up this morning and looked over at Evie, her face didn't say, "Happy Birthday, Mom!" Instead, she whined and squirmed until I shoved a boob in her mouth. She cried in the car while we ran errands. She pooped in her diaper while I was eating cake. She even slobbered on my face when I held her up above my head. In short, Evelyn did not care that today was my birthday.

Unlike other days, however, she stayed quiet while I ate my dinner, happily glaring at a muted episode of Spongebob on TV. Trust me, this is a wonderful birthday gift. Normally I have to choke down a bowl of cereal for dinner while Evie threatens to fuss any second.

Believe me when I say that I am happy to be a whole year away from my former life. Evie has made my life so much better, so much more rewarding, and no number of vodka shots could numb me into the bliss I feel every time she smiles her big gummy grin.

You could say that Evie was a birthday surprise from last year. Today I held her and knew with all certainty that she was the greatest gift I could ever receive, even if she does slobber on my face.

There's No Place Like Home

Today was my very last day of work at TGI Friday's. On my way home, I had a feeling that I believe is most comparable to the way Dorothy must have felt when it was time for her to leave Oz. I went around the restaurant and said my goodbyes, feeling sad but relieved at the same time. The whole experience was summed up by the word "bittersweet."

You may be thinking, "Kellie. Get a grip. It was a waitressing job."

But that's where you would be wrong. That job was my foray back into the adult world after giving birth only a few months ago. I started working there when Evelyn was 7 weeks old, and since then it has allowed me to interact with adults and feel as if I'm good for more than breastfeeding.

Leaving Evelyn for each work shift was always a challenge, but I consistently felt tremendous joy every time I walked back through the front door, feet aching and skin stinking of steaks, when I got to see my daughter's chubby face once again.

I think parenting demands breaks. You have to go out into the world and away from your child for periods of time to retain sanity. I respect anyone who bears the moniker "full-time parent" because I fear I would permanently speak in baby talk if I did.

Aside from the mental stability permitted by working a job, the people I called co-workers have evolved into fantastic friends. I can say with all honesty that I will miss every single one of them. I already miss listening to their stories, laughing at their jokes and sharing their aggravation at a bad tip. If any of them read this, I hope they know I feel very happy to have met them. Like Dorothy, however, I hope that I'm not leaving them behind entirely so much as I'm waking up from the dream that was my time in Lexington. I'm confident they'll continue to be my friends even if I no longer see them as scarecrows or tinmen, aka co-workers.

So here I sit, wondering what to do with my Friday's polo shirt and apron, ready to turn the page onto the next chapter. Evelyn and I are moving back to Louisville in one week, and in the meantime I'm going to search for a new job. I just hope I get to trade in my black, non-slip shoes for some ruby slippers in the near future.

Worth a Thousand Words

Because she is just so stinkin' cute, here are my all-time favorite pictures of Evie since she was born! All of them were taken on my cell phone.

This is one of the very first pictures I took of my sweet little girl when she came into my life on July 5, 2011. When I took this photo, I had no idea much fun I had in store.

I think Evie was three days old here. My little sister, Carly, had brought over a sticker with the letter "E" on it, so I stuck it to her onesie and took a picture.

I've always loved this picture, and I can't quite figure out why. She was maybe a week old, and I just thought she looked so peaceful and sweet when she slept.

This was right before I took her over to my dad's house for the first time. She looked so alert and ready to go!

Wearing a hat from Paris that my friend, Jennifer, brought her. Proof that she is already more stylish than I am.

This was Evie's first boat ride this summer. I think she was just around a month old. It was very hot outside, but she did great.

So cozy!

This was taken soon after we moved to Lexington. In her little pink onesie, I thought she looked like a sleeping baby piglet.

After I took this, I started calling her my "little bunny" because she looked like a tiny rabbit nestled down in a burrow. She was just so content in her little bouncy seat, which is where she usually chills while I get ready.

I specifically remember she was staring at the toilet when I took this. She looked so calm and innocent just staring at the shiny porcelain comode.

Evie always gets this big grin on her face if I look at her and say, "Oooooohhh!" I was finally able to get it on camera, a difficult task considering if she spots the camera, she stares at it with a serious look on her face.

This is classic Evie these days- sweet, curious and mellow, but always a tad mischevious. She reminds me of someone... ;)

Sleep and My Lack Thereof

Today I was at work contemplating how much I miss having the time to think and write. When you say, "Hi, my name is Kellie and I'll be taking care of you tonight. What can I bring you to drink?" so many times, you begin to miss using your vocabulary for creative purposes. It was then that I realized I haven't written a blog post in over a month.

Forgive me! Between working and taking care of Evie, I rarely have time to eat a full meal, much less sit down and type. But here I am- fresh out of work with a baby quietly napping a few feet away. And may I just say this: I envy her.

A lot of people told me that when I embarked into motherhood, my sleep patterns would be drastically affected. But just like most other parental warnings, you can't understand it until you're living the mom life.

For the first month and a half or so of Evie's life, she woke up approximately four or five times a night to squeal and eat. Luckily for me, breastfeeding makes those late-night and early-morning snacks much easier. I just pull the baby right up next to me and let her indulge. However, because we got in the habit of laying in the same bed so much, Evie now believes that my bed is her bed.

I used to sleep like a starfish- on my stomach with all four limbs stretched in different directions. Now I sleep like, well, a baby in the womb. While Evie lays sprawled out next to me, I stay curled in the fetal position all night long. Waking up is unpleasant not because I would rather keep sleeping, but because I feel like I'm trying to undo the rigor mortis that has obviously set in.

And forget naps. Once in a while, if I'm lucky, I can doze off with Evie laying on my chest. But usually I don't even want to consider snoozing during the day because the feeling that I should be doing something else is overwhelming. My mind screams, "How can you sleep when you should be folding that huge pile of laundry?!"

But if there's one thing I know, it's that parenting is a balancing act. Sometimes you have to make time for the things that make you happy and serve no other purpose. Like blogging.

Black Friday's

I have always considered Louisville, Kentucky to be my home base. Despite the fact that I've mainly lived in Lexington for the last three years, Louisville was still home. Though the Derby City will always be my beloved hometown, I feel as though I have truly adopted Lexington as my base of operations, the place I will call home for the forseeable future. I'll admit, that was quite a shock to my system for a few days.

Psh. That was nothing.

Today I left Evelyn for the longest stretch of time since she was born. I had to. For my job.

I remember when she was only about a week old and I left her for 20 minutes to go walk on a treadmill in the gym at my mom's apartment complex. Those minutes felt like an eternity. I wish I had known then what I know now.

When I left for work today at 4, I didn't even know how long I would be gone. To garner an income as quickly as possible, I took a job as a waitress at a nearby T.G.I. Friday's, and since today commenced my training, I didn't even know how long I would be gone.

As I walked out of my apartment clad in the standard-issue Friday's polo shirt and some hideous non-slip black shoes, I felt sadness and anticipation all at once. I was excited to start working with some new people and ready to be a part of the working adult world for a while. But at the same time, I found myself clinging to a very clear mental picture of my sweet baby girl napping in my arms.

After about two hours of working, I could be found slumped against the bar waiting for a drink with a melancholy expression on my face. When someone asked me if I was ok, I replied without hesitation, "I miss my baby!"

Having been gone for over five hours, I returned home and found my little angel just as I left her- painfully cute and frustrating all at the same time. She hadn't changed while I wasn't looking, much to my relief.

After a quick change of attire so my little family wouldn't have to smell the medium-well steaks and shrimp skewers that permeated my clothes, I settled on the couch with Evelyn nestled in my left arm, Roy next to me glued to his laptop and a bowl of victory fettucine in front of me.

Yes, I hate leaving my daughter. Yes, I hate taking people's orders with a dumb grin on my face when all I can think about is her face. Yes, I thought I was going to have a stroke when another baby cried in the restaurant and I looked around for Evie.

Despite all those things, however, having a job is rewarding, and those moments I spent on the couch after I got home were the best moments I can recall since I relocated to Lexington. And honestly, who wouldn't want to come home to that?

New Beginnings

I've been neglecting my blog lately. First, allow me to apologize. Second, let me make excuses.

Six days ago, Roy and I moved into our new Lexington apartment with Evelyn, and the following days have been a haze of organized chaos. Getting settled in a new place with a six-week-old baby is...challenging.

Sunday- Moving Day
We woke up early, came to Lexington and commenced the unpacking process. With help from a few friends, we got everything in the new place only to stare at the massive heaps of crap that two people and a baby have accumulated.

The first room I went to work on was Evelyn's naturally. Note: She spends MAYBE an hour per day in her room, but all of her stuff is so cute I couldn't resist.

That night, filthy and exhausted, all we wanted was a shower and a drink to celebrate. Two things were missing: 1. The rings to hang the shower curtain. 2. Corkscrew. While Roy watched the baby, I made a trip to the dollar store, which doesn't, believe it or not, sell corkscrews. That required a separate trip to Walgreens. Later, we discovered that our original shower rings had been stuffed inside a cookie jar in our kitchen, and the wine bottle had a twist-off cap. Oh, cruel irony.

Thursday- Epic Haircut
After contemplating a new 'do for a week or so, I impulsively decided to go chop off a lot of my hair. This, however, was not the most significant part of the day. What matters is that doing so required me to leave Evie with a babysitter who was not her father for approximately three hours.

After a cosmetology student who was so young she still had braces lobbed off six inches of my hair, I raced back to my precious baby. (I go to the Paul Mitchell School for my haircuts. They're way cheaper and I'm all about supporting education.) You know the old saying, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" It's true. As fond as my heart is for my baby, I think I needed those few hours to do something for myself and not constantly be listening for her pitiful little squeals.

Friday- Job Hunting
After making daily trips for food and other necessary items, we concluded it was time to focus on getting some revenue flowing into this household. Since Roy is a second-year law student, that meant I had to put on my big girl pants and some high heels to tackle the ol' rat race.

For several hours, I scoured the city for any job that pays American dollars. By the end of the afternoon, I was feeling defeated and tired, but made one last stop. Thank goodness I did because they hired me on the spot. Let's just say you may find me bringing you your dinner someday...

So here I sit- in my new apartment with my new haircut and new job, contentedly glancing over at my new baby snoozing on the couch. All in all, I can't complain. Roy and I are discovering new quirks about each other every day. For instance, he can't understand why I put peanut butter on crackers only to lick it off, and I recently found out that when confronted with a lack of dresser space, he elected to stash his t-shirts in the desk drawers.

Tasks for the upcoming days:
1. Preparing to leave my baby for hours on end to go work.
2. Get Evelyn to sleep in her crib and not right next to me.
3. Memorize a menu.
4. Loads and loads of laundry.
5. Starting Monday, I'm going to eat healthier and take Evie for more walks to get back in shape. Pregnancy really takes it out of you.
6. Pumping lots of milk for baby to have while I'm working.

The only question I'm still asking myself is this: How did I grow up so fast?!

Totally Pumped

Throughout my pregnancy, I studied up on breastfeeding. I took the classes, read the books and learned the necessary information. So when my little girl was born, I had a pretty good idea of what to do: 1) Disrobe torso. 2) Hold baby up to chest. 3) Commence latching. 4) Lactate.

I would be lying if I said breastfeeding didn't come with its share of surprises. That first day in the hospital, I paged a nurse to help me get the baby latched on, at which point she entered the room, grabbed my left mammary gland and shoved it in the baby's mouth.

At 5 this morning, I woke up to feed Evie and realized that the left side of my bra was completely soaked. And yes, I wear nursing pads. I planted Evie on that side, but when she slipped off, she got sprayed right in her sweet little face. She wasn't too much worse for the wear.

Despite these unpredictable circumstances, nursing has come pretty easily to me, and for that I consider myself quite lucky. As I've recently discovered, however, pumping breastmilk is a whole different story.

For starters, pumping is not very comfortable. You would think it couldn't hurt any worse than the baby, but you would be wrong. It hurts, especially if you're having a tough time getting the milk out. And when you're finally finished, the first time you let the baby nurse from that side, it stings like getting a tattoo on your nipple for about 30 seconds. (Note: This may be different with electric pumps, but I kick it old school with a manual one.)

That brings me to my next point: pumping milk isn't always easy. Unlike nursing straight from the source, your body doesn't automatically release for something that you don't mentally recognize as your own child. Recently, I tried to pump a couple times to no avail, only to realize that it was only possible under specific circumstances.

I have to be completely relaxed to pump successfully, which is tough when you have a fussy baby. I prefer to pump while Evelyn is sleeping soundly. Knowing that she's content makes me release tension, and breastmilk for that matter.

To my surprise, I can pump better when no one is watching me. This is surprising because I'm not a shy person. I can nurse with no problem while other people are in the room, but if someone watches me pump, I might as well have a clog.

Once I figured out what works best for me, I managed to stockpile a few bottles in the freezer. On Thursday night, a day before she turned one month old, we gave Evie her first bottle. Rather, Roy gave it to her while I tried not to freak out because my baby is already a month old.

She took it like a champ. She rested comfortably in Roy's arm and sucked down four ounces in no time at all. Then came time for me to face my irrational fears- what if she liked the bottle better than me?! To check, I served up a finale to her meal straight from the keg. She transitioned between the two flawlessly.

If there's one thing I know, it's that feeding a baby, like parenting, is a learning experience. You have to figure out what works best for you. The hiccups are not failures, they're just opportunities to learn more about yourself and your baby. And when it's all said and done, I get to watch Evie have some hiccups of her own, which is just the cutest darn thing I've ever seen.

In the Name of Love

I've never spent every waking (and sleeping) moment with one specific person for three weeks straight. Honestly, you would think it would be frustrating to be around the same person that much.

I spend almost every minute of every day with Evelyn. She sleeps in my bed at night. She sits in her pink vibrating chair on the bathroom floor while I shower. And the better I get at nursing, I can even feed her while I munch on a snack of my own.

Sound exhausting? It is. But I wouldn't change a single minute of it. The more time I spend with Evelyn, the more I can see her pint-size personality coming out.

Evie likes attention. I know all babies require a certain amount of attention, but she actually commands it. When I talk on the phone while I'm holding her, she cries. If I hang up the phone and talk to her instead, she's perfectly content. Let's just say I make a lot of phone calls during nap time...

The little lady also likes to dance. After searching for things that make her happy for days on end, I finally figured out that she loves for me to hold her in my arms and take a spin around the living room floor. This is Evie's playlist:

"Someone Saved My Life Tonight" -Elton John
"Time After Time" -Cyndi Lauper
"Piano Man" -Billy Joel
"I Wanna Dance With Somebody" -Whitney Houston
"Angel" -Aerosmith
"The Story" -Brandi Carlile
"We Belong" -Pat Benatar

She usually falls asleep after the third or fourth song, but sometimes it's hard not to keep on dancing. The last three weeks have gone by so fast, and I know these times when she can fall asleep in my arms while I dance with her will be short-lived. Not to mention, it's very liberating to act so ridiculous and not care one bit.

Finally, Evelyn likes to go outside. I think she enjoys the feeling of the hot, humid summer air on her delicate baby skin. Maybe it reminds her of the 98.6 degree cave she lived in for nine months. Still, I can hardly stand going outside in this awful heat, so we compromise. Lately we've been going on a short walk to get the mail every day.

She sees the sights and hears the sounds, happily indulging in the simplicity for a few minutes. When we step back in the air conditioning, her dark little eyes open wide and she stares up at me with a look that says, "Woah, who turned off the hot?"

This is my simple existence. Typing out these activities makes them sound so provincial compared to a lot of the things I used to do, but I don't care. I've happily surrendered the average 21-year-old life for something sweeter.

Bonus: My youth allows me the stamina for multiple living room dance parties every day.

A Humble Existence

For the last three weeks, I've been enjoying every moment with Baby Evelyn. After constantly worrying I was going to break her for a while, I've finally settled into some manner of a routine with my sweet little girl. However, as I'm sure any new parent will tell you, this child has a lot of tricks up her tiny sleeve.

In recent days, Evelyn has decided to repeatedly fooling me into thinking it's a good time to change her diaper, only to immediately soil the fresh one I put on her. I know you may be thinking, yes, Kellie, babies poop in their diapers. And I understand that. But Evie will make a mess in a fresh one before I can even fasten it shut.

I pull off the messy one, thoroughly wipe her down, slide the clean diaper under her hiney, and then, there it is- the telltale bubbling noise that means I acted a little too soon. At least those messes actually make it into a diaper...

Evelyn loves her bath time. She reclines in her little tub while I scrub her down and pour warm water over her belly and just relaxes. But perhaps she is a little too relaxed...

One morning last week, I had just finished giving Evie a bath and she was sitting calmly in the warm water, ready for me to wrap her up in a fluffy, hooded towel. I turned around to grab the towel when I heard it- the sound of a quick flurry of bubbles under the water. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. The baby pooped in the tub. Moments before I was going to put a clean diaper on her freshly-scrubbed behind, she muddied the water.

In a comedic chain of events, I plucked my naked little cherub out of the tub, yelled for Roy to come help me, and ran her backside under the faucet before handing her over to Daddy. Evelyn was no worse for the wear.

Aside from the poopy incidents, Evelyn has peed on me twice and spilled countless mouthfulls of breastmilk all over me. And yet, despite her messiness, I wouldn't change one second of the whole experience thus far.

True, my laundry hamper is full of clothes covered in mysterious substances and my garbage can is overflowing with diapers, but that's what I signed up for, right? Right.

Life with Evie

Little Evelyn can't do much yet, but she's a wonderful daily companion. Just for fun, I'm putting up some pictures from our day-to-day life to share the cuteness.

Evie sleeps a lot.

And yawns.

Sometimes she takes a leisurely bath.

Sometimes we go to the store.

And sometimes she likes to read "Vanity Fair."

It's a good life, really.