Scotty was a moose for Halloween this year...actually, I need to come clean -- technically, he was a reindeer. But moose sounds more harvest-y, so that's what we're going with. I mean, why stress over the details?

I need to admit how I came up with this costume. I am totally 'that mom' - the mom that waited until the last minute. I didn't intend to be.  I had been looking at costumes practically the minute this child came out of the womb, but Brian was insistent that Scotty be a bison this year...yes, you read that correctly. A bison. As  in, a baby buffalo. I don't know about you, but baby buffalo costumes are few and far between.

So I looked, and looked, and looked...and found nothing. Well, I found one buffalo costume but it was so heinous it bordered on inappropriate. We thought he could just go as a pumpkin (see previous Zen post), but then I posted pictures of him in his pumpkin hat and there was no way we could use that again...I mean, c'mon. I may be 'that mom,' but I have enough self-respect to not re-use costumes (in the same week, nonetheless!). So this morning, I hightailed it to Kohl's and was met by...Christmas. All Christmas stuff. Green, red, elves, santa hats, and lots of tinsel. Not a single Halloween item, not even a good clearance rack. I thought our ship had totally sunk until I came across some reindeer costumes...yes, reindeer. And they were all brand new and plenty of sizes to boot. I bought two.

Since there was no red nose or bells involved, I figured I could pass the costume off as more moose than reindeer, and viola! We had a little moose for Halloween. I don't Scotty will mind that we slightly altered his first Halloween. I just love the fact that I was so late for Halloween this year that I was actually early for Christmas. :-) After all, didn't I just blog about how Motherhood is all about flexibility? Maybe I'm learning after all!

Remember my woeful post about our Herculean baby? The baby that can break out of any swaddle? Well, I caught Giganto-Baby in action, bursting out of the so-called 'Miracle Blanket.' Let's just say it's not so miraculous in our household.

As you can tell by that gigantic turkey leg of a baby sticking out of the blanket, the little bear did not have a restful night of sleep. Which means, neither did Momma. The party started early last night at 1:30am. We were rockin' at 4:30am, 6:30am, and then 8am. Bear then decided to not take a nap either, which lead to some serious hair-pulling on my part. I curse you, Moro reflex...

(yes, yes, I know we are breaking the rules by putting some stuffed animals in his crib. In our defense, he never even comes close to them since he doesn't move [except to kick out his legs] and yes, I will remove them in the very near future.)

There's a lot more to talk about, but I'm exhausted (again - I'm so boring, I know) and need to head to bed. Hope everyone has a safe and happy Halloween!

OMG, is anyone watching 'Community' on NBC? It's my new favorite show.

I *heart* Abed. That whole Batman parody...dying. Seriously dying with laughter. I think I've watched 'The Dark Knight' about 400x since every time it's on HBO, Brian and I are tracker-beamed into it.

Loved the Chapstick moment. Classic.

I have to type this fast, before Brian comes downstairs, or else he is going to yell at me. I really should be going to bed. ::whiny voice:: but I'm not tired!

Anyways, long story short, I went to see the lactation consultant on Friday. Was interested in getting the baby back on the boob. Was hoping for some sage advice and some ideas to up production.

Instead, I got nothing. The LC was more interested in asking me "how everything turned out." (she was the first LC we saw on Day 4). Well, I still have a baby, so that's a good sign. She also told me, with wide eyes, that she (and our fired ped) had never seen a bilirubin at 29, because, "that means the baby would have like...died."  Um, no, my dear LC. 29 isn't even really that high -- I told her about the other stories I've read where the numbers were up to 54. Not to mention, a lot depends on the age of the baby and the baby's weight. I asked her if she knew what kernicterus was and she said no. Strike one, two, three, four to a million. How can you be an LC and NOT know about kernicterus? That is essentially the only possible thing that you would ever have to worry about.

Her sage advice to get the baby back on the boob was to...put the baby on the boob. I'm not kidding. Really? Because I would have never thought of that! I was trying to get him to latch on to my ankle. (grr...)

But finally, the reason I'm typing this now (and am clearly irritated at the moment, as evidenced by my sarcasm) is that I told her about all of the milk I had frozen in my freezer and how it was "all bad." She gave me this convoluted answer and swore that 1.) it is not bad and 2.) if Scotty really had a lactose intolerance, he would not be able to drink my breast milk, since it is "full of lactose." She assured me that there was nothing in my diet that could possibly affect him since it is all an old wive's tale. So, eat away! Cheese, beans, onions, caffeine. Have at it. Per the LC.

I was rather pleased to hear this on Friday, so on Saturday, I defrosted a few bags. Thought I'd try it out. I gave Scotty some of the defrosted milk this morning and WRONG!

Let me say that again. WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG.

I have been dealing with the fussiest baby ever since 1pm. He will not go down for a nap. He's up, he's down, he's gassy, he's bloated, and he looks seriously pissed. Brian and I threw him in the car this evening for a SIXTY minute car drive and he fussed the whole time. He looked so miserable I felt terrible. Brian gave him some formula around 9 and he finally settled down. The poor guy.

Needless to say, Brian is mad. He told me tonight, "You are NEVER going back to see those people." I agree 100%. So far, they are batting 0. They have gotten literally everything wrong that we have asked them. It seems when we do it our way, things go okay. When we take their advice, it is crash and burn.

Ugh, so frustrating.

The Top Ten Ways You Know You Are Lactating...

10.)  Wearing just a tank top seems obscene.

9.)  When a food particle falls into your shirt, it takes you 20 minutes to find it.

8.) See #9 - You avoid hibachi grills for this very reason - God forbid the chef picks you to toss the shrimp at.

7.)  Your husband doesn't bat an eyelash when he comes from work to find you pumping on the couch, watching Oprah and talking on the phone. And the person on the other line doesn't care that you are pumping, either.

6.) You haven't been this topless this Spring Break '99 in Cancun.*

5.)  You commonly refer to yourself as the 'Grocery Store.' 

4.) You can eat like a sumo wrestler. (You might not be  losing weight, but at least you are not gaining weight. "Why yes, thank you, I would like a second donut.")

3.) Not only do both breasts have names, but they also have personalities. (Lefty is clearly an eager-to-please socialist that is quick to respond; Old Righie is a curmudgeonly old coot that is rather conservation and slow to produce, though rich in hindmilk.)

2.)  Even after toweling off after a shower, you are still dripping.

and finally, the number one way you know you are lactating...

1.) You spend so much time by yourself (or with the baby) that you start to write 'Top Ten' lists in your head.

*Hi, Mom. Don't worry - I never been to Spring Break in Cancun. I'd like to think I was rather conservative in college (and still am.)

So this is kind of a random story, so bear with me.

The other day, I saw a preview for a new movie called 'The Box.' It stars Cameron Diaz and the guy who played Nixon in 'Frost/Nixon' (Frank...Langello? Not sure of his last name). The premise is that Frank shows up on Cameron's door stoop with a box in his hand. If she agrees to press the button attached to the box, he will give her a million dollars...but someone in the world will die.

It looks like one of those studies in morality, similar to Milgrim's studies in obedience. Will they, won't they...yada yada yada. You know, you spend 120 minutes watching a movie like this and then the ending never satisfies, because it's the discussion that it generates, not the outcome, that matters. Not to mention, when I saw the preview, my first thought was, 'No way would anyone do that...what a horrible concept.'

This morning, I came back from my fibroid appoinmtent (yes, it's back in the news) and noticed how the sunlight was streaming through our windows. I jokingly told Brian that it looked like that scene from 'Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Arc' when the sun is in a certain position, and the guy uses the medallion thing on the top of the stick to find out where exactly to dig. Brian pointed to the sunlight's location on the floor and I was like, 'Let's dig! Maybe this is the solution to our housing problem. There is buried treasure under our house!' We laughed.

And then Brian said, 'Yeah, it's like that movie, 'The Box.' Have you seen the preview?' I nodded yes. He continues, 'Oh, yeah, a million dollars to press the button and someone in the world dies?  Boop! [he simulates pressing a button.]'

I looked at him totally shocked. 

Then he continued, "Hell, can I press it again?"

Yes, this is my husband.

The MIracle Blanket lived up to its name! It was 100% Scotty-proof and that means Momma got almost a full three hours of sleep between the hours of 3:30am and 7:30am (we had one brief interlude that was related to pumping, not swaddling.)

Although I will admit, our days with the Miracle Blanket are numbered. The blanket's directions state to wrap one part of the blanket "around your baby's tummy, and be sure to tuck it in under their back." Um...we got the blanket part over the tummy, but there wasn't much room to tuck under his back. It was pulled fairly taunt over our child's ample mid-section.  Little Pork Chop just looked at us happily as we attempted to squeeze him into the garment. I think we will be shopping at "Husky Baby" fairly soon. Is there a Big & Tall store for babies?  When do I break out the 'he's just big-boned' comments?

The best part came this morning when I found Brian looking into the bassinet. I had just come back upstairs from bottle washing and we both gazed lovingly at our little ham. He was awake, too, and I asked him, "Who loves his Miracle Blanket? Who loves it?" (yes, in that annoying mother tone).  Scotty broke out into this great grin. So cute! And so quiet at night. This is definitely a win-win so far.

Ugh, it pains me to even type the word.

Swaddle.

Two months ago, this meant nothing to me. I received some great snuggle sacks as baby gifts, and I practiced me skills by swaddling Cookie Monster. He looked quite content in his swaddle and I felt great. Swaddling - kids' play, no? Easy as pie. I was going to ROCK motherhood.

Fast forward to today. Just the idea of trying to put the baby down sends shivers down my back. Which is seriously ridiculous because Scotty is an easy baby. Really - he's sweet, he rarely cries, he looks at you with these giant blue eyes like, 'Oh, really?' Adorable.

Yet he has a very strong Moro reflex (the same one that you feel when you dream you are falling - babies have it until about 6 months of age and then they eventually outgrow it.) Lean a baby back, holding his head, and watch him flail his arms - that's a Moro reflex. Put them on their backs (per the APA, in their anti-SIDS campaign) and watch as their little arms flip all over.

Unless Scotty is completely asleep and his arms are above his head (a sleep position we like to call 'Baby Jesus'), he will flail his arms. And as I alluded to in a post earlier, he also likes to hit himself in the face with his arms. Try smacking yourself in the face while you are sleeping - you will wake up, too.

And so Brian and I have been left in a quandry - Scotty can't sleep without a tight swaddle (trust me, we've tried), but it's darn near impossible to keep him in the swaddle. (it's also a pain getting him in the swaddle, since he cries and screams, but I just tell him, in the first of many, many times, it's for his own good.) I wake up probably 5-6 times a night due to his grunting and flipping around, only to find a baby that has broken out of his swaddle. This is not only bad for his sleep health, but dangerous, too. I don't want a blanket to get too close to his face. So I re-swaddle, but this lasts about 30 minutes. Until he breaks out again. And I'm up, again.

We tried the sleep sacks with velcro. Broke out of those. Tried the Kidd-o-potomus things that wrap around. Got his hands out of those, too. I once sent Brian to Babies-R-Us in a tearful panic with strict instructions to not return home without some kind of sleep contraption. It took him 45 minutes but he found yet another product claiming great sleep. Which promptly failed that night, too. I honestly considered wrapping duct tape around the baby's blanket but thought that might warrant a CPS investigation, so I opted for no duct tape this time.

As for now, Brian and I are using just regular blankets (square and huge). I like to think of myself as a classic Karp-ian in terms of my swaddle technique (one in arm per tuck, down, up, down, up) whereas as Brian is more of a modern swaddler, using a revolutionary double arm tuck as his signature move. Considering Scotty sleeps better 99% of the time better when Brian swaddles, I have given up my classic roots and am trying to learn his method. Which I cannot master, making me feel like a total idiot. I mean, it's a blanket and a baby. I've talked people off of ledges...why can't I get this?

In fact, just now, I was rocking the baby to sleep when Brian came home. We high-fived and switched positions, so I could come downstairs to wash bottles (the second bane of my existence) when I heard Brian muttering through the baby monitor. Needless to say, he was not happy with my swaddle (and neither was Scotty, since he was refusing to go to bed). He promptly re-swaddled and presto - baby was asleep in four minutes. Until he breaks out in approximately 34.6 minutes.

Which leads me to what I like to call our Last Line of Defense: The Miracle Blanket. They (I bought two) arrived in the mail today and I am praying this is the answer to our prayers. Using no velro, no snaps, and a completely safe way to wrap your baby, I am hoping this is the answer to our baby Hercules. It looks like the equivalent of a baby straight jacket, and I'm excited to try it. Let's hope it lives up to its name.

Padma was a little flirty with Michael Voltaggio, no?

Maybe he's the dad?