Last week was a long one. 

My little guy has been having some semi-serious (serious to me, but not that serious considering what it could be) health issues.

He's always been a little guy, but since about 12 months old, his growth has decreased to almost a stand still in terms of weight. He grows taller, but at 19 months he still hadnt hit 20 pounds yet. 

When we switched from a private Dr to Kaiser they immediately flagged his weight. I started going in every other week for a weight check, communicating with a nutritionalist, keeping a food log (and coercing Papa into keeping one as well) and last week we had to take him into have his blood work and urine samples taken. 

As anxious as I was, Cruz couldnt have been a bigger champ. They sat me down in a chair with Cruz on my lap, his legs tucked between mine and my arms bear hugging all of him but the arm from which they would be extracting the blood. Papa was holding his head, a nurse was holding his little extended arm and a second nurse was checking his arms for veins. They checked and rechecked and triple checked his little arms to make sure they got a good vein. And then they proceeded to take 5 vials of his blood. 

The best part...not a peep out of my little guy. Not when 3 people were pinning him to my body or when they were poking and prodding and tourniquet-ing him. Not when they stuck the needle in. Nothing. He just looked on as his little heart palpations sent more and more blood through little tubes. 

What a brave little guy. 

They are not quite sure what's causing the lack in growth, but are covering all their bases. 

We are still waiting on the results. I am sure he is just fine (but a Mama's mind does wander to some scary places at times). 

Hope to be back for regular posts this week. 

Decisions, Decisions

I hate them.

I hate making decisions.

I might possibly be the worst decision maker in the whole entire world.

Sometimes just the thought of having to make a decision keeps me from doing anything at all.

For example, if I need to go to the store really badly, but its the same time as a playgroup, I will contemplate and debate in my head. I go back and forth and forth and back until I just give up and don't do either.

Its bad.

So today, Papa text me when I am on my way to drop off Cruz and says that he wont be off until a little later and that his mom would be waiting for me and she would hang out with Cruz until he got off.

Totally NOT part of our custody agreement.

So I'm faced with the daunting task of either A) just dropping Cruz off with his Nana. But his seperation anxiety is SO bad. He cries when I leave him with his dad, what is going to happen if I have to leave him with someone else. Or B) say no and just wait for Papa to get off work.

I knew that I wanted to choose B, but was it worth the argument? Did I want to have to get into with his dad?

So my train of thought goes something like this...

-UGHHHH
-O.K I'm just gonna say no. Our custody agreement is between him and I, not him, I and his mother.
-Seriously, Cassie, its not that big of a deal. Just drop him off, he'll be fine
-No
-Yes
-No
-No
-Yes
-Nope
-No way Jose
-Don't even ask me again
-Yes
-No, my mind is made up, I'm not thinking about it anymore.

10 minutes later
-Wait, what was my decision (I do this all the time. I make the decision, but I went back and forth so many times that I forget what I decided on)
-Shit
-Alright, I'm just gonna try to stall
-....
-I dont know what to do.

By the time I get there I still havent made a decision. Obviously.
So then I just tell myself that I'm going to get there and see how I feel and see how Cruz does.
And then I never EVER feel comfortable with the decision I made because I didnt actually make a decision.

And then I spend the rest of the night mad at myself. And its so irritating because I still have to hang out with myself. Sometimes I wish I could just ditch myself for a little while. Like that one friend you have that is mildly annoying that you just want to dodge for a couple days. Sometimes I'm that friend. But you totally cannot ditch yourself. Dilemma.

Can We Talk About Boobs?

Disclaimer: Dad, you might not want to read this :)

OK, let me start off by saying that I absolutely LOVE breastfeeding my son. I wouldn't have it any other way. I believe its totally natural and beautiful and it creates an amazing bond between my son and I.

That being said.

Double you. Tee. Eff.

I look like an 85 yr old woman. Well, at least from the neck down.

I'm talking about my boobs. They are soooo saggy. And when they are empty, right after Cruz has nursed, forget it, its basically just loose skin pooling at the bottom of bra.

Lovely, I know.

For the sake of the argument, I have to give examples.

Due to the fact that I dont want to smear the internet (or you poor, unsuspecting bystanders) with images of my breast (not that I have any) I will use this picture as reference for my "before."

I was 19 in this picture (on the left) and, for the most part, pretty average in the chestal region for a girl of that age (ignore the classy, frat-house decor)

Just 2 short years later...

SAGGY BAGGY ELEPHANT!!!!! (Please excuse the minor adjustments made to Papa's face).

Will they ever go back to normal???
Will I be a sagging, 85 year old look-a-like for the rest of my life.
I'm only 21, I deserved to get a little bit more mileage out of the "perkiness" factor.

For real, do they ever go back? Or do I get to keep these gifts from my son (as if the stretch marks weren't gift enough) for the rest of my life?

Maybe I'll meet a guy with a sagging, stretch mark fetish. No?

Ahh, the sacrifices joys of motherhood. Thank you, my son, for all the incredible ways for which you have changed my life.