So recently I started thinking maybe I need to do some things to better myself. So I’ve made two very big decisions. First I have decided not to drink anymore. AT ALL. Ya I know if you know me you are thinking ya right but this is something I have to do for myself and my son. I realize that even though I only have 3 or 4 drinks it is still terribly irresponsible for me to drive home. And if I drink at home and something happened to my son I could not responsibly drive him to the hospital. Maybe I am being silly but I feel like I have to change so much to better his life and his future and make sure I am around to be a part of his future. The second thing is that I want to stop yelling at him. I shout NO when he does something bad and I am thinking now that maybe I should try and talk more calmly to him. Don’t take this the wrong way I don’t scream at my baby at all but I do shout No when he is throwing soda cans all over the office. I just feel that there must be a more constructive way to speak to him when he is behaving badly. If you have any suggestions on constructive disapline please let me know. I’m just trying to be the best mom I can.

So there you have it. The story of how I came to be a mom. Now I can go back to telling the hilarious stories of actually being a mom. My son and I have some of the best times. He is so creative and hilarious and unique. His birthday is in about two weeks and I can’t believe that my little boy is almost one. This week he learned to clap, say dada (he’s been saying mom for a while) and he learned to take of his diaper, pee on the floor and play with it all before I have a chance to react. He can climb up the kitchen chairs onto the kitchen table and throw everything including a full bag of chips on the floor in the time it takes me to walk to the fridge for some water. He can pull every potato out of the bag and hide them before I even notice he’s in the pantry. He knows how to run away and hide when I catch him being a stinker and he plays peek a boo. He pulls the phone off the hook when it rings and he pulls the papers out of the printer, fax and copy machine before they are even done. He knows where we keep the cereal at work and can open the cabinet and pull out his favorite box and help himself to some apple jacks. My son is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. He keeps me alive. This month he started waking up and giving me and Rob kisses good morning. I have no idea where he learned to kiss but it melts my heart. Now he kisses little girls, big girls, mommy, dad, grandma, walls, stuffed animals and of course that handsom baby in the mirror. He has also learned to kiss with his mouth open and the other day he even threw in a lick. Brandon loves to dance. He is hilarious. He is a great dancer too and has way better rythem then his mommy does. Oh and by the way my son is a total mommas boy. I don’t mind it one bit. I love that I’m his favorite person in the world. Okay well that is enough for tonight. I’m going to go to bed and cuddle with my little man. Oh yes you will notice my blog page is monkey theme. That is because that is my nickname for my son. He climbs everything and is so curious just like a monkey. :(|)

I didn’t get to read Jenny McCarthy’s book Baby laughs until Brandon was a few months older. If I had I would have been more prepared for baby blues. I had no idea what was happening. Not only was I obsessed with my son I was obsessed with crying. I would cry because was so happy about him, cry because we had no milk, cry because I was ashamed I was crying. It was awful. One day Brandon spit up and it was a little pink. I went berzirk thinking my baby was dying. After visiting the hospital I was assured that it was more then likely blood from my boob from breastfeeding. So I cried for over reacting. I became obsessed with SIDS and decided Brandon could never sleep alone. I was constantly checking to see if he was breathing. My husband had to go back to work after a week and he was working nights. Since I’m also affraid of the dark I would barricade myself in the room with some diapers and wipes and that was it. If Brandon didn’t want to sleep I would cry if he went to sleep but I couldn’t fall asleep I would cry. I felt like I was doing something so wrong. Finally I figured out that if I just put him on my chest we would both sleep. Only thing was I was terrified this made me a bad mom because I wasn’t making my baby sleep in his crib. I DON’T CARE. He is nearly a year old and he still sleeps with me. And you know what? I DON’T CARE. My son is going to sleep with me until we move into another house and his room is right next to mine. Then I will THINK about letting him sleep alone. Anyway baby blues were awful. Thank good they only lasted about 3 weeks or so and it didn’t turn in to Post partum.
Sunday July 23, 2006 – 09:25pm (PDT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link

This was Brandons first bath at home. I feel like bawling right now seeing how little he was. I can’t believe I could hold him in one hand and that he fit in the sink. He didn’t really like his bath except for when we washed his head. Then he would kick back and relax with his eyes closed. Rob and I had so much fun that first week with Brandon. We felt like two people who were responsible for the most important thing on earth. We took him to our works and showed him off and everyone agreed he was the most adorable thing they had ever seen. I knew immediately this was changing my life forever.

Since I had a C section I couldn’t get out of bed for a day in a half. That meant my husband got to witness the first bath and change the first diaper. The greatest thing was that my husband was in love with our son to the point where he actually enjoyed changing diapers. In fact for the first 3 months every time my son had a dirty diaper my husband would jump up and do it or ask if I needed help. He was a perfect dad from the start. Rob was so gentle and caring it was so cute and a little bit funny. He was affraid of everything. Rob worried that everything would hurt the baby or that Brandon might break in half. Rob was also the first one that Brandon fell asleep on and the first one to rock him in a chair. One of the cutest things Brandon did right fromt he start was get the hiccups. We wer so thrilled because he had had the hiccups every day while I was pregnant. Rob immediatly got out the camera and I think we have about 15 mintues of Brandons first hiccups. We also have his first hospital bath on tape and the nurse made him a little mowhawk which I loved since I had wanted to give him one since I found out I was having a boy. I save his first outfit. It was a little white sleeping gown the snapped up with little dark blue rocking horses on it. I had to keep the mittens closed on it because I wasn’t ready to cut his little nails yet. I did do it before I left the hospital though. I did get one first though. Twice in one day actually I was the first one to get peed on. Yup that was my first.

This is our little family. The first few days in the hospital were a little crazy. We had no idea what we were doing. Our son got circumsized and he handled it very well. My son never left our site and he was doing so good at breast feeding. He started sleeping in bed with me right away and I didn’t mind in fact that is right where he belonged. Nurses actuallly came in our room because they heard there was such a cute baby. Yeah we knew. He is beautiful. He is very special. You could tell immediatly that he was Asian and he looked just like his dad. The most funny part of the whole thing is he actually came out bald on top like I dreamed he would be. Anyway we had our son and it was amazing. I was sitting in bed on day and looked over at Rob and said I just wanted to let you know I love him more then the cat. It was TRUE I loved this baby more then anything in the whole world. In 10 seconds he became my world. I already worried and protected and thought about him every second of the day.

So Monday came and I was told I couldn’t eat or drink anything all day. I was pissed and mean. You can’t imagine the horror of telling a pregnant woman no food or drink. Finally 2:00 rolled around and we were off to the hospital. It was the oddest feeling knowing we were leaving with out a baby but would be back with one. So the nurse lady came in and said since we were having a C section they needed to shave me. Don’t worry I had already done that. WRONG. Next thing I knew this mean lady was going after me with a bic and nothing else no shaving cream or water or anything. Wow talk about making me more miserable. Then she came in to give me an IV and I’m pretty sure the IV was the worst pain of the whole thing. So family starts to trickle in and they are all wishing me well and the nurse walks in and says okay we are going to get your baby. So I start walking down that hall..WAIT…the doctor isn’t here yet turn around. So I go back to the room and sit for a few minutes and then its back down the hall. So they take me in a room put me on a bed and roll me over. The anastheologist says I will feel something like a bee sting in my back. I don’t even think it hurt that bad. Next thing I know the doctor says we’ve already started and I’m amazed it didn’t even take a half second for me to be numb from my neck down. My husband made some interesting faces and the next thing I knew the doctor said you will feel a little pressure. It felt like someone was kinda pulling on my chest and all the sudden I heard a scream. Now normally I’m not one of those emotional people but the whole time all I could think was if he cries right away that means he’s healthy. So he started crying and I’m embarrassed to admit I started crying. Yes I cried. I couldn’t believe it after only about 2 minutes if that long I had a baby. The next thing I knew he was being whisked over to a table and wiped and touched and booger sucked. Then they handed him to my husband and he brought him over and showed him to me and I’ll be dammed he was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my whole entire life. I knew immediately he was someone special. My husband and Brandon went with the nurse for a bath and I stayed behind to get sown up. After he was bathed and I could move my big toe and legs the nurses brought Brandon to meet me. They pulled down my shirt to see if he would start breast feeding. So he got close to me and I said something to him and as soon as he heard me speak his little mouth started sucking on the air. My baby was born to breast feed. It was awesome. That was the only other thing I was worried about. A few hours passed and I was moved to my room where they brought him in and actually let me hold him. Then a bagillion people showed up and I became a proud mom. Yes I was a little high and don’t remember it all but I was a proud mom.

My son was born on August 1st 2005. About 4 days before that on a friday I went to see the doctor only to hear that I was still not dilated and this kid wasn’t coming out. He sent me across the street for a sonogram to see how big the baby was. They said he would be anywhere between 7.5 to 9.5 pounds. The doctor said that the baby was big enough that if I was ready to have him I could. WHAT. I was getting him out because I couldn’t wait any longer I needed to meet my son. So we scheduled an appointment for 4:00 PM on Monday the 1st to have a baby. Whoah. You have no idea how odd it is to know exactly when you are going to have the baby. So during the weekend while we were waiting my husband and I suddenly realized we wanted to add the name Cooper to my sons name. Kenny Cooper was my husbands friend who died at work one day and it was because of him that Rob and I are what we are because it was his death that brought us together. We contemplated naming the kid Brandon Taylor Aloysius Cooper Mateo but we liked the baby and couldn’t do that to him so we dropped Taylor. Next thing I knew my dad called and said he wanted to change the baby to be named after his other grandpa so the day before his birth our son because Brandon Cooper Gabriel Mateo. Some family had already nick named him “Coop.” The nursery was ready I was ready the cat was ready everyone was ready. We were going to have a baby.

For about 4 out of the nine months my husband and I attended parenting classes that my insurance paid for. For the most part they were good. The bad parts were when they showed us what could happen in delivery. First they pulled out some salad tossers that they called forceps. I guess those were to grab the baby by the head and pull him out if he wasn’t coming. Then they showed me a vacuum. I wasn’t happy I was freaking out. Finally they showed us some wierd contraption that screwed into the babies head to monitor him. That was it I was officially freaked. I made up my mind. I was having a C-Section. Another scary day was when the dentist came to visit. He told us horror stories about cavities and showed pictures of babies with rotten teeth. Then he told us that if parents brought in a child with a cavity and they brought it in a second time with another one he would call social services on them. Whoah what? Kids get cavities. Mental note..don’t go to this crazy ass parent hater. finally though the best day of all was the day that we actually got to play with little dolls. The teachers assumed us moms knew what to do and set in teaching the dads. First they asked the dads to change the dolls diaper. They opened it up to find peanut butter smeared all over the babies butt (interesting we have seen some similar stuff after having him.) So the dads had to figure out how to get all of the peanut butter off. Then they had to put a fresh diaper on. Rob tore the little straps off his first one and had to get another diaper. Then they had to put a hat and shirt on the baby and master swaddling. It was hilarious seeing how it took some people twice as long as others to get the shirts on and some peoples swaddle fell apart in seconds. The best though was when they turned out the lights, turned on a tape of a screaming child that got worse the longer it was on and handed them each a bottle, some formula and water and said make a two ounce bottle. Man there was formula flying everywhere. They forgot to cover the nipple and when they shook water was alllll over. That class was my favorite because it was the first time I actually felt like I knew something.

My husband likes to drink. No he’s not an alcoholic he just thinks he is still 21 and loves to party with his friends. Needless to say he is usually very shy. Not so true when he is drunk. He will talk and do wierd stuff and yell and jump around with his friends like a bunch of drunk idiots at a SF Giants game. He is very amusing to watch as this is not a side of him I normally see. Anyway another thing that happens when he drinks is that he is not affraid to talk about stuff. He will actually tell you what he is feeling. But the best part of it all is that when he wakes up the next day he usually has no idea what he said. So one night he has a few to drink and since I’m pregnant I am dead sober. So he is eating some chicken I believe and I say to make sure he puts it in the garage trash since my cat is notorious for getting stuff out of our trash. In fact he was notorious for just dumping over the whole trast. Some how this conversation turns to “You are going to love your cat more then your baby.” This upsets me. The way I saw it my cat was my baby. I know I know a lot of you are saying ITS JUST A CAT. But, if you know me one thing you know is for the most part animals are a bigger part of my heart then humans. I cried for two days over a baby bunny that I had had for a bout 4 hours when it died. Anyway my logic was that this cat was like my kid. To be honost if someone told me now that if I had a second child I would love them as much as my first I would laugh at them. I am not programmed that way. I am not made to think of anything but the current. My husband on the other hand started to love the baby the day he found out I was pregnant. I tried to explain this to him but he didn’t get it. To him he thought since I was carrying this thing I should understand the most. I didn’t. I”m not that person. That person who just gets attached right away. Maybe part of me was thinking I would lose it or maybe part of me was thinking something would be wrong with him and he wouldnt make it. What ever it was I still though I was going to love my cat more. So we got into it and of course I cried. In fact he was still ranting as he passed out in bed. I think he fell asleep in the middle of a sentance. The next morning he had no clue that any of this had happened but I made sure to fill him in. I tried to think about it all. I tried to figure out if maybe I was wrong. If I needed to change my feelings. The problem was I didn’t know how. All I could think of was this poor little cat who had no clue what was going on and would never understand becoming second in my life. (Yes at this point I think I cared more about my cat then my husband. The thing is once I do form a bong it is iron clad. There is no getting over it. Ask me how many of my previous relationships I still care about. So to me it made sense. The cat was there first there for he won.