Summer is over (ugh.)

Well, after hearing about all my friends' wonderful beach trips all summer, it was finally time for the Watts/Clairain/Felder/Hill family beach trip. I never thought it'd get here. We had to wait until September this year secondary to a beautiful little addition to our family, Evan (my cousin's baby), scheduled to make his arrival in August. Don't think for one second his Grandmother was going to miss that! Anyway, we had a great time. Everett LOVED the Gulf. He thought the waves were hysterical and would laugh every time they came at him. He was mostly indifferent about the sand. He did great though and would stay out there in his little shaded pool for a couple hours everyday, happy as a little clam. He also (finally) got his first tooth the first day we were there. Just a little bitty white speck on his bottom jaw. Anyway, here's a few pics.
Not real sure why he's pulling on his nipple here...


Fam beach shot. I was about 26 weeks preggers with him last year during our trip. How time flies.

On another note, we put our house on the market the day after we got back. I am a bit nervous but trying to be excited. Neither Wade nor I have ever sold a house and he's only bought the one we're in. I've never actually purchased one since we were just dating when he bought this one. Anyway, here comes another chapter!

Splish Splash

I know most of you probably don't care what goes on at the Watts' home somewhere between the hours of 6:30-7:30 every night. However, for those of you who are interested (read: Granna, Grandma Patty, Aunt L, and probably Aunt Buff) here's a chronological photo set just for you. Yep, it's BATHTIME. Since our boy was days old, he's LOVED bath. For the first 6 months of his life, I bathed with him and loved it. As he grew mobile though, my free time got more precious. Thus, this job is happily (for Hom and I) delegated to Ev's doting Daddy. Don't think I'm off lying on the couch or anything though. I'm usually cleaning our dinner dishes. Wade allowed me in our their sacred ritual to snap a few candids. ((Side note: Who knew that Wade sings "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain" during his bath every night? No clue why.)) Anyway, without further ado, I give you....Bath time for men

First, you gotta run some hot water.
Only tough guys take baths.

Then, you gotta get the clothes and diaper off (throw in a little tickling for kicks).


Every night that's rolled since we first bathed Everett, Wade has done this. It's kind of a big deal.

"Let's stop and look how handsome we are today."
On the infrequent night that I bathe Ev, Wade checks to make sure I "looked how handsome we were today."

Then we're off to get our scrub on. Land of a Thousand Dimples. Bring on the wedding photo montage. His future wife is gonna love this.


Spend a few minutes playing with our bath toys. Gotta have a boat. Did I mention that his Great Grandfather, Uncle, and cousins were Riverboat pilots?

And finally, the drying. In this pic, Wade is chanting Ev's wrestling chant. I swear we don't watch wrestling but my hubs has quite the imagination. Shoogie Shug is Ev's "wrestling name."
"And now, in the white corner, weighing in at two zero point two pounds from the great magnolia state of Mississippi. The Master of Disaster, the Minister of Mischief, the Iotola of Rock and Rolla, The King of Sting.....SHOOGIE SHUG!!! Shoogie! Shoogie! Shoogie!" Again, no clue.

A funny thing happened...

in labor and delivery. Yeah, you read that right. Here's one of those stories that people often nod their head and state, "Only me." This is the truth according to my orthopedic doctor. I can't decide whether to laugh or cry about it so I'll share it here in order to make light of it. Maybe then it will seem funnier. Probably not.

It all started when I decided I wanted a drug-free delivery with my children. My Mom had done it with me and my brother (and I was 9 lb. 8 oz.). Now, don't get me wrong, I would never break my leg and ask for no pain meds but I had always wanted to feel the true pain of labor. It is LABOR after all. I told my doctor my intentions but that I would do whatever I could to keep the baby the safest. If that meant pitocin, epidural, etc. I'd do it against my wishes in order to get baby and mom home in the best condition. Well, my labor went exactly according to my plans. Water broke at 10 pm, at hospital by 11:30 (having 3 minute contractions but still felt the need to shower and straighten hair). By the time they checked me at 11:30, I was already 4 cm. By 0509, I was starting to push. That's when things got a little hairy. I pushed. and pushed. and pushed. I had to play a sort of "tug-of-war" with the nurses to push in the right spot. The nurse held a towel and I pulled with all my might against it. Some say that a doctor won't let you push in excess of 2 hours. For some docs, it's a 3 hour cutoff before they take you for a C section. I'm assuming because I'd labored that long successfully with no drugs and my doc knew my intentions, she didn't opt for a section. Maybe she knew I was getting close. Anyway, I pushed for 3 hours and 15 minutes exactly (0824) when my beautiful, healthy barely cone-headed boy emerged into this world. Now, I've talked to friends that had an epidural and "pushed 3 times and out popped the baby." Well, (while jealous) that's not the way my story was intended to be written and I wouldn't change it (but, God, if you're listening, it sure would be nice to only push like maybe 2 hours for the next kiddo. Just saying.) Anyway, I was cleaning up my hospital room by 10 am in preparation for visitors and felt great. I was sore all over which I would imagine is normal. A week later, things were starting to feel normal again except this nagging left shoulder pain. I assumed it was because I was holding babe with my left arm more because I'm right handed and needed it free to write, unload dishes, and all the other things multitasking moms do. Anyway, a few months go by and I tried to be more diligent about swapping him to each arm but to no avail. When Everett was about 7 months, I offhandedly mentioned it to my internal medicine doctor. I showed him what hurt and he referred me to an orthopedic doctor. The Ortho doctor then asked if it was a sports injury, accident, etc. Imagine his surprise when I casually mentioned it was from labor. Anyway, after weeks of physical therapy, a contrasted MRI (OUCH) revealed that I have multiple longitudinal tears in my bicep with some fluid accumulation along with tendonosis. He said the only cure was to scope my shoulder, cut out the "bad spot", and "tie the good ends together." Sounds easy peasey, right? Yeah, if it's not your shoulder. Anyway, so while I bull-headedly opted out of the damn epidural, I now have a torn bicep to show for it. I keep having to tell myself that it would have happened anyway. Ortho doc has allowed me to put surgery off until early next year since I have to have my thyroid out next month and my shoulder is non-emergent. I would give a moral to this story but, honestly, I don't have one. Maybe you guys can help me out and, no, I still would opt out of the epidural. Sorry. They don't call me stubborn for nothing.