By March 19, Wynn was beginning to look less and less like the tiny infant we came to know in the NICU and more and more like a baby boy. Sometimes as I held him, I would look down at his sleeping face and see the little boy he was growing into.

At this point, he and I had spent so much time together, I was beginning to feel we were best friends. However, that doesn’t mean we didn’t occasionally disagree. If it were up to me… and Wynn… I would have had him in my arms all the time. I hadn’t truly explored the concept of attachment parenting, but my instincts told me that the best place for him was always in the arms of one of his parents. Unfortunately, that wasn’t always possible. Never had I experienced so much guilt as I now do as a parent. Do I shower or hold my child? Do I eat breakfast or hold my child? In the early weeks, he would sleep through many of these tasks, but as we passed the two month mark, he started to find his voice. I would feed him, get him to sleep, lay him down and sprint to the shower for three, five if I really pushed it, minutes. Emerging from the bathroom to his screams were some of the most guilt laden moments for me. How could I let my child cry in fear, sadness or hunger for even a moment?

This is something that I actually continue to struggle with. His crying never annoys or frustrates me. It just literally breaks my heart.

This is around the same time that we came to know a phenomenon called “colic.”

I’m not quite sure it’s been determined exactly what causes colic or even truly what it is, but it’s a period in an infant’s life where they are inconsolable for several hours a night for anywhere from 6 weeks to several months. Some say it’s due to intestinal issues like gas, or the baby’s still maturing digestive system. All I know is that just when we were high-fiving each other for making it past “The Witching Hour,” Wynn began to have periods from 6-9 p.m. each night where we would cry non stop. We could feed him, rock him, walk him, attempt to distract him, it didn’t matter. He was pissed.

Honestly, it was Ben that got the worst of it. I spent my days with Wynn and often by 6 p.m. I was spent. Ben would come home and was usually greeted by me handing him our child. I really can’t say enough about Ben’s patience and love as a father… and truly his love as a husband. Those three hours each night would have made me want to rip my heart out and run screaming out of the house. He most likely recognized this, and would feed and patiently attempt to sooth Wynn as he screamed bloody murder for no apparent reason, night after night.

You might think the second month was bleak for all involved. But it was around this time, that even with the endless evenings of crying and feeding, we somehow managed to find our confidence. We spent four days in Charlotte while Ben attended a class and Wynn and I learned to live out of a hotel. We ate all our meals in restaurants and Wynn saw his first city.

One thing we learned from this experience is that Wynn is actually quite a good traveler. He sleeps easily and soundly in the car, isn’t picky when it comes to bottle temperature and stays pretty content as long as he’s dry and his belly is full. I have to admit, some grown ups can’t even manage that.


Wynn was one month old on February 19.  By then he had been home with us for a few weeks, although I wouldn’t say we had found a routine by any means.  We were feeding him about every 3 hours.  Ben was back at work and it seemed no matter how we divided up the feedings, we were both always exhausted.

At this point, Wynn was still pretty tiny.  We had begun to venture out to restaurants and on errands as a family, although I was always terrified something would go wrong.  Any adventure began as close to a feeding as possible and concluded promptly, three hours later.  My biggest fear was having to feed or change Wynn in public… something I just wasn’t ready to master at that point.

Wynn came into the world much as he lived in utero.  He loved to kick his legs and flail his arms, and experienced frequent bouts of hiccups… sometimes five or six times a day.  I was one month into maternity leave and considered the day a success if I managed to shower and find a clean pair of yoga pants.  It was also around this time that Wynn began to experience periods in the evening that his doctor described as “The Witching Hour.”  The Witching Hour isn’t exactly colic because although Wynn was visibly frustrated, he wasn’t completely inconsolable.  Evening feedings didn’t always result in him returning to sleep quickly and both Ben and I spent frequent overnights watching late-night television with a wakeful infant on our chests.

I’d love to be able to tell you that by the end of the first month we had found our stride.  However, I don’t really feel like I can.  We were still in a reactionary state and violently kicking and paddling, just trying to keep our heads above water.  Although I’m sure we learned plenty… there was so much more this newborn had left to teach us.

Yesterday Megen and I were out running errands and to make things easier for everyone involved I had Wynn strapped on me in his Baby Bjorn carrier. After a little while I had enough fluids in me that I needed to use the restroom. The dilemma is with a baby strapped to your chest, is it okay for a guy to run into the restroom and use the urinal?

We have a lot of catching up to do here.  I’ll try to give you the Cliff’s Notes version.

In June of 2011 we found out we were pregnant.  Yay!

By November 2011, I looked like this:

Sometimes I just like to hang out in front of trees.  Blame it on the hormones.

By January 2012, I was even more ginormous.  And by January 19, Wynn decided he was ready to join us six weeks early.  For the three remaining people in the world who haven’t heard my pregnancy story, give me a call if you’ve got about an hour.  I love to tell the pregnancy story, but that’s another post.

At 2:50 p.m. on January 19, Wynn arrived!

He was 6 lbs., 2 oz. and 18 inches.  Because he was premature (for a while I had a really hard time with that word), he had to stay in the NICU due to some lung development issues.  However, he joined us at home about a week and a half after he was born.

Pregnancy was an experience that I could write multiple posts about… and very well may depending on how well this blog develops, but actually having Wynn and watching him grow and learn and change is something I’m still trying to wrap my mind around.  Every day I look at him, and I overflow with such a feeling of love.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Both Ben and I learn something new every day about our son, about parenthood and about ourselves. So, in addition to chronicling the adventures we have as a couple, this blog will now chronicle the adventures we have as a family.

As you might have assumed by now, the cupcake calendar is dying (if not already dead).  There just seems to be far to many misses in the recipe book to continue to make another poor cupcake.  I would rather have no cupcakes than have a cupcake that is just mediocre.

I still had a couple of blog entries to write about with the whole cupcake project but I just really couldn’t find the right words to describe anything.

The first was a Malted Chocolate Cupcake:



It was okay.

The second was a a Tiramiso Cupcake:

(Insert Missing Photo of Tiramiso cupcake here)

Again, it was alright, nothing I couldn’t live without if that is the whole point.

Projects come and projects go and this was just a project that didn’t have enough wings to keep it afloat.  So what happens to the blog now that the one project (the county project will always exist) that created reasons to post has ended?  While I think it is time to return to the reason Jules and I set this blog up in the first place, misadventures.  Witty antics aren’t enough to keep people around and posting photographs give people a little eye candy to enjoy but combine the two and I might just give you five minutes worth of entertainment to take you away from your TPS reports that consume each of our workdays.

And really, isn’t that why we surf the web in the first place?