Girls, Girls, Girls...

Best buds..

Picking some toe jam..

Hey, lemme tell you a secret..

Hey Rubens, take a good look at these curves..

The Bride of "Ram-Man"

If you are anything like me, you look fondly back on your childhood days when the battle between Good and Evil was as simple as GI Joe vs. Cobra Commander, or He-Man vs. Skeletor. In fact, one of the toys I remember vividly was this one He-Man action figure, Ram-Man. Ram-Man was this sidekick of He-Man, a sturdy warrior of poor verbal skills that ran down most of his enemies with a battering-ram like head. I had one of these, and he had spring-powered legs that, when compressed, would knock his head into whatever you pointed it at.

We've been worried since Caroline has taken to hanging out in the Jumperoo, which we hang in the kitchen doorway, that her vigorous hopping and bouncing and swaying is going to lead to a head injury before long. It really wouldn't be that hard to bang into the door jamb. And that would be the end of the Jumperoo.



Fortunately, our fears have been recently assuaged by her increasingly prominent plagiocephaly, which today resulted in her getting fitted for a cranial molding helmet:

 

At least they come in pink. 

Out-takes from Christmas Card 2010 Photo Shoot #1

If you can't tell from the title of this post, tonight's attempt at capturing the perfect photo for the 2010 Little Shaw's Christmas Card did not go as well as planned. We got some good shots, but nothing that quite lives up to the standard set last year. It was hard to get this light right, with the tree and the lamps and the windows, and those little buggers move fast. We'll try again tomorrow, and let you know how it goes.

First we tried a couple of Olin Mills arrangements, just for the auld lang syne. The result was about what we anticipated - cute, but a little contrived. Although you can't quite tell it in every shot, I think Caroline is more of a ham than Jack (I mean, she's definitely chubbier, but I meant a camera-ham).

This shot was a contender. You'll just have to wait a few weeks to see what shows up in your mailbox. How long until Christmas??

  

 

Some of the real outtakes. Our kids are pretty darn funny sometimes, just not at the same time.

My Ladies

We got some good pics of Caroline today, while Jack is spending some quality time at Camp Sparty. While I am sure he is enjoying playing with "Activities Director" Bud, I sure am enjoying getting to hang out with my girls.

More pics to follow.

Updated 5:15pm! Album is here.

I call this one "Princess Spread Eagle" of the noble Saxapawhaw Nation

The Trouble With Three

Getting two of us to look at the camera is relatively easy:

Three or more at the same time is exponentially harder:

We'll get this right eventually.

Family Fun

It didn't occur to me while we getting the kids ready for bed last night, but the growth of our little family is more than just the simple addition of Caroline. There is an entirely new product, maybe even exponential dimension now that she is added to the mix. Like we jumped suddenly from Shaw³ to  Shaw⁴ - that's a big deal. And it is a good thing to see, even though it took looking at a couple of pictures to make it sink in.

We were playing on the floor in Caroline's room, and Jack dragged out the big copy (yes, we have more than one) of Goodnight Moon.  It is less of a story and more of a poem/lullaby, the way the words and phrases weave about and repeat and suddenly come together in a soothing cadence. This edition is a particularly well-worn book, even though it is not yet two years into its hopefully long life. There was a period a couple of months ago when Jack liked to stand on it and try to rip the pages/cover off. So needless to say, it has fought its share of battles. But it is also the book we read to him nightly when he was just 6 or 7 months old, and barely big enough to turn pages, and certainly not old enough to pick his own books - which he now does, recently opting for one about fire trucks or bulldozers, or maybe Hand Hand Fingers Thumb, if he is in an introspective mood about the meaning of the universe (I mean, how else can you interpret "millions of monkeys, drumming on drums....").

But it was the funniest thing having Caroline there, because he brought it over and laid it on the floor and started flipping through the pages, narrating as he went in his lilting pidgin non-english language that we barely understand. I am pretty sure that "Li smo kat funan wip pig, li smo fat yon" means "Goodnight clocks, and goodnight socks". I was able to step back and take a picture or two, and looking at them later I realized just how big of an added dimension that Caroline brings to our lives, and to Jack's. It is fun to have a family.

    

Goodnight stars, Goodnight air. Goodnight noises everywhere.

Growth Pictures

Sweet Caroline is three weeks old today! Fortunately, we've remembered to take growth pictures along the way the same as we did with Jack. Here are the first three:

    

And now for Week 3, hot off the presses:

As you can tell, she's plumping up quite nicely.. ;-) That's my girl!

"Eye-dentical!"

I love that movie, but law school was continually marred by professor's use of My Cousin Vinnie as a substantive reference of how to be a lawyer. C'mon, Profs. It's a movie. We are paying you money to show us how to do it for real. Come up with some new examples, for chrissake!

Now on to business: Doc and I have been repeatedly struck over the last few days by the striking (well, duh) similarity between our two kids, particularly at the coupla-weeks-old newborn stage. If I had to pick who Caroline resembles of the two of us, I'd say "neither" - but she is a spitting image of young Jack. Q.E.D.:

Can you see the resemblance? It is really uncanny. I need to try to take some similar pictures for comparison, before she gets too chubby. Speaking of which, little Caroline gained over a pound in her first five days since she left the hospital, and I wouldn't be surprised if she breaks 9# when she goes in for her checkup after Labor Day. She is eating like a champ. Next goal: sleeping!

Caroline's Video Debut

Courtesy of Bud Films LLC:

Callie and Caroline - Pseudo-cousins

Callie: That smell was her.

Caroline: Yep, that was me.

Little Sisters

It has been really fun to watch Jackson try to come into his own as a big brother over the past week, even though he still doesn't quite get the full import of what has just happened to his life. Just tonight, he got visible pleasure from making sure that Caroline's swing was rocking visibly, that the built-in rasta music was at a volume which she was certain to hear, and that she had as many pacifiers as she might need stuffed in her mouth.

I think being a big brother is probably a harder task than it gets credit for - it certainly seems more challenging in retrospect for me, because I have to wonder what sort of effect I had on my little sisters. Lord knows you don't get an instruction manual (which Shaw men have an impeccable track record of reading before departing on any task). I think it is easy to be selfish as a kid and damn-near impossible to see your own actions in the greater context of a family that is all growing up together. But somehow it all works out in the end (hopefully).

I stumbled across this picture of me and Sara at some point early in our childhood - possibly when it was just the two of us. It is a fun picture to look at, but probably wouldn't have been as pleasant if it was taken after I hid her favorite doll for several hours, a prank that I was prone to repeat every couple of months. Still, I do really enjoy having sisters and I think that Jack's gentle soul has the makings of a good older brother. Even though he is a little more stressed out this week than on last Tuesday (maybe he just got spoiled by being at Bud and Nana's, or maybe he is acting out a bit), he still is (relatively) gentle and considerate of Caroline. So far, he directs most of his angst to me or mommy, and treats her with equal parts awe and the sort of curiosity one brings to biology lab on dissection day.

Good luck, little guy. It's a tall order to be a good big brother, but I'll be with you the whole way.

Jack learns to smile

And then there were four...

Little Caroline Grace, sleeping soundly at 2 days old.

We are proud to announce the arrival of our family's newest addition. Our sweet little daughter, Caroline Grace, was born August 4, 2010 at 12:02am weighing in at 6lbs 5oz and 18.75inches long. She is an entire pound bigger than her brother but still quite petite and it has been eye-opening being re-introduced to the world of newborn sizes. Big brother is so far fascinated by her and loves to pat her head and say "Sissy" which is the first word he has ever said on command. She shares the same birthday as Dean the Dog, who has embraced his new spot down on tier five.

Big Brother Jack meets his little Sissy for the first time!

Matilda and I are both over the moon and petrified about now being a family of four with all the adventures that lay in store for us. Our 4th wedding anniversary is right around the corner and we can hardly believe all we have squeezed into this quartet of amazing years.

Here's to our beautiful children and how insanely happy they have made us.

Applying our daily war paint...er, I mean sunscreen

Flip flop

Baby girl Shaw has been in an unwavering breech position basically since the first time we peered into her world with our very first ultrasound.  I'm not sure if she liked hearing my stomach gurgle or the thump of my heartbeat on her forehead, but she never showed any sign of turning. It didn't matter what I did - from hanging upside down, moxibustion, visualization, swimming, chi swirling, or daily conversations with her about the benefits of coming into the world in the proper, natural way - she held her breech ground.  So, at 37.5 weeks, my OB doctor decided to try to manually turn her into the proper head-down position whether she wanted to or not, a.k.a. external cephalic version.

Today was the day.  Nothing to eat after midnight the night before made for a grumbly tummy but, given all the balls we've been juggling this past week, I was surprisingly without much worry.  We showed up at the hospital at 7am, got checked into the labor room closest to the OR in case baby girl strongly protested the forced movement, and finally got an IV started after 4 attempts. (Apparently I have deceptively difficult veins. I couldn't help but think, "where is Matt Garrison when you need him?")  The nurse then politely asked me, "Where is a nice fatty part of your body where you'd like the terb shot?"  That's the anti-contraction medication to keep my uterus from freaking out with all the pulling and pushing.  I can't say I was proud of all the options I could give her but I was happy not to have as difficult of a body habitus as my vascular system.

So there I sat on a hospital bed, naked but for a skimpy gown and ankle socks, in a room with a thermostat that read 55, with an IV and a plethora of bandages on both arms like a sad leaky pin cushion, tied to the bed with two baby monitors and sneaking "what a long strange trip this is" looks at my amazing husband when the effects of the Terbutaline hit. Now, if you've never had Terbutaline, let me enlighten you on the pleasure that is that drug. It basically makes one feel like one has just driven off the edge of a cliff and has suddenly realized that gut-dropping feeling is the fast descent to the hard ground miles below.  Palpitations, jitters, anxiety, lightheadedness, hot flushing, nausea.  Clearly, it's not, nor ever will be, a drug of abuse.  Fortunately, it passed fairly quickly and did exactly what it was supposed to do because I distinctly saw a white flag rise up from between my legs when my uterus cried "uncle."

Then Dr R walked in.  She's quite a character. I don't know if it's the red hair mixed with the insanely thick Southern accent or her unflappable demeanor despite even the most harried of circumstances, but she's one of those people that fills a room instantly.  "Alright girl, you ready for this?" she chuckled as she took off her white coat and hung it on the back of the door.  Rolling up her sleeves, she pulled the portable ultrasound over to the bed, gopped my belly with goo, and got the lay of the land.

"Yep, that's head.  That's butt.  She's still backwards.  Let's do this."  I imagine Stephen's viewpoint was rather benign as she didn't do The Haka or crack her knuckles or even spit into the dirt.  She just laid her hands on my belly and started to push.  She used her right hand to pinch the baby's bottom and the heel of her left hand to push on the head in a counterclockwise movement.  It sounds so easy, so benign, so....painless.  But I can promise you, short of labor, that is a distinct pain that I wouldn't wish on anyone.  The idea is to get the baby's bottom out of the pelvis and basically coax her into a forward somersault.  A little push and hold, check the heartbeat, push a little more and hold, check the heartbeat.  The doctor could get her halfway there but once completely transverse across my abdomen, it's like she jammed in her heels and her fingertips and said, "Sorry, not gonna happen. Nice try but I'm stronger than you."  Two attempts counterclockwise and the red streaks on my belly must have already been bright enough to make Dr R ask, "Well, do you want to give it one more go or just call her stubborn and be done."

Call it mother's intuition or strange fetal connection but as soon as she asked, "clockwise" popped into my brain.

"Let's give it one more try.  Backwards this time."  I said.

Reaching down to my spine and flattening my innards like a double-sized steam roller, I felt her bottom pop into my side and then the sweetest whispered words I've heard since Jackson first said "Mommy?" on the phone to me, "That did it."  Confirmed with the bedside ultrasound, baby girl Shaw was upside down for the first time in her life and I was absolutely beside myself.

I've had in my brain this entire time she was going to be breech, the version wasn't going to work, we were going to have a scheduled c-section next Friday, and I had come to terms with that.  Fate, lately, has been throwing us a number of curve balls, but this was a high, easy, slow pitch that was a simple hit out of the park and the circling of bases after Dr R cleaned off the goo from my belly was a sweet, welcomed reminder that life is ever changing and badness can only stack so high before goodness is bound to follow.



There is no guarantee this little one won't flip back where she started and the c-section I have not wanted will actually happen.  But for today, at least, she's where she needs to be and her gesture of compromise has renewed my excitement for the days that are to come.