Good Job!

Johnny Mac Pippin is six days old and I cannot tell you how many times someone around here has said “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin poops and we say “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin latches on and we say “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin bends straightens his leg and we say “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin falls asleep and we say “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin opens one eye and we say “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin cries and we say “Good job!”

Johnny Mac Pippin lets the dog lick his toes and we say “Good job!”

Which means I’ve spent a lot of the last six days thinking about Anne Heaton, which leads me to think about Edie Carey and Melissa Ferrick.

Which leads me to wonder which music Anne Heaton’s daughter liked when she was a wee thing.

Which leads me to wonder whether Johnny Mac Pippin likes Nirvana (he does).

Which leads me to wonder what music Francis Bean liked when she was a wee thing.

Which leads me to think Johnny Mac Pippin needs an iPod of his own… maybe for his one week birthday?

I’d have to figure out how to keep Johnny Mac Pippin’s mom from putting Jack Johnson on it — but wouldn’t it be fun to build playlists for Johnny Mac Pippin?

Good job!

Johnny Mac Pippin Poops! (And Pees)

When we left the hospital on Thursday, Johnny Mac Pippin had not pooped yet that day and knowing we were supposed to be looking for at least two poops, we started to get a little anxious.

Not to mention the fact that I had not yet changed a single dog-gone diaper and I was kind of dying to change one (it’s been ages since I’ve changed a baby’s diaper!)

Johnny Mac Pippin was nursing and nursing and nursing — and hours pass — still no poop (or pee, for that matter.)

Just when we were wondering whether we should worry or not and feeling thankful that we had a well baby appointment the next day — the poop hit the fan.

Mustard yellow, watery poop for the win! It was everywhere and it took all three of us to get Johnny Mac Pippin clean.

And then he very quickly pooped again.

And again.

And again and again and again and he’s pretty much not stopped pooping.

Oh, he did finally pee, too — all over his mother and his changing table and the elephant on the table and four extra diapers, the baby wipes, the nasal aspirator, an extra onesie, two receiving blankets and his stroller three feet across the room. And while he hasn’t peed non-stop, he’s certainly made up for going almost 18 hours without peeing.

Johnny Mac Pippin is an expert pooper and pee-er. I’m very proud.

On The Day You Were Born

Your mom woke me from a very sound sleep, a little after midnight, to tell me that she thought we would be heading to the hospital soon. I was surprised because there had been very little sign that you were interested in making your appearance soon but maybe the walk to Coldstone, the spicy food, the Putt-Putt, and the Evening Primrose Oil did the trick.

Contractions were strong and regular, coming 4-5 minutes apart. I was ready to go to the hospital but your mom (and the midwives) suggested she wait it out at home for awhile. So that’s what we did. For three hours we watched your mom breathe her way through strong, long contractions. She is a very quiet laborer, you’ll be surprised about this later because she’s not really quiet at all.

At 3:30, your dad and I insisted that it was time to go to the hospital. The contractions were getting much stronger and longer and closer together so we packed up and arrived at the hospital right at 4am. The hospital is very quiet at that time of day, which is good since it turned out that while you were definitely on the way — there was still a good ways to go. Mommy was only dilated to 4cm (and 80% effaced) and there were no birthing suites available. So — we walked the halls of the hospital for three hours.

Mommy hugged a lot of halls, and poles and doorways at Tripler and she ate a bite of eggs, a banana, a glazed donut and drank a lot of water. Your dad and I ate a most excellent breakfast in the Tripler hospital cafeteria. It was outstanding (and very inexpensive, which made both of us very happy — we both like a good deal.)


At 7:30, we headed back upstairs because your mom was very tired and just could not walk anymore. By then, she was 7 cm and 90% effaced and a birthing suite was getting cleaned up and ready for us. Turns out the only suite available was the emergency suite — it was nice, but it had no jacuzzi tub and that was sad. It did have a nice shower and your dad helped your mom take a long hot shower focusing the water on her back to help alleviate some of the back pain she was having.

A couple of hours passed and your mom was really ready to be done with labor. The contractions were getting stronger and closer so she asked her very nice midwives to check and see if your head was low enough that breaking the water would speed things up. They checked, it was, and that’s when the really painful part started.

Your mom was amazing. Your dad knelt down on the floor next to her face and talked her through every contraction — whispering softly the entire time. I had the honor of holding your mom’s left foot up in the air and holding it while she pushed (not to mention massaging some cramps out from time to time.) This means I got to watch as you made your entrance into the world. With each little push, a little more of your head was exposed and on that last push, it was AMAZING to finally see you. I’m not a weepy grandmother sort but I shed a tear or two at the first sight of your perfect little face.

Because there had been some meconium in the water when the midwives broke it, they were trying to move very quickly to get you out and onto mom’s chest before you cried, because as soon as you cried, the neonatal team would have to take you to make sure no meconium entered your lungs. You made the first cry just as they were putting you on mom’s chest so she only got a brief look at you before you were whisked away.


They brought you back very quickly, though — your Apgar scores were excellent 7 and then 9 and no vitals were recorded so we didn’t know how much you weighed — heck, nobody even looked at the clock until after dad brought you back over to mom.

After your mom and dad and I cooed over you for a few minutes, mom put you to her breast and you latched on immediately. Not a good, deep latch — but a definite latch. Another sign of just how amazing you (and your mom) are.

While the midwives worked to clean mom up and the housekeeping staff worked to clean up the birthing suite (boy it was a mess — ask your mom about banana vomit, someday…) we all stood and stared at you and patted you and played with your long fingers and extra long toes.

Your mom got a shower about an hour after your arrival and you got a bath, which you did NOT like, and you were weighed and measured. I was very surprised to find out that you hit the 8lb mark. I knew you were big but I didn’t think you were THAT big!

Then.. I got to hold you. Finally. What an amazing little person you are. Bright eyed and perfect. I hated to give you up, but some of your dad’s friends stopped by and they deserved a chance to hold you — just for a minute or two.


We moved to a regular hospital room about three hours after your birth and I got to wheel you down the halls — and tell everyone who came into the room just how exceptional you are. They didn’t really believe me until they got a look at you and then they were as smitten as I was (am!).

I helped get mom settled into her room and cuddled you for awhile — you get the hiccups, a lot, just like your mom. Then I left her struggling to help you nurse and went home to take care of your dog (and get some sleep, watching your mom birth you wore me out!) — and to give you and your mom and dad time to enjoy each other without me huddling over everything.

On the day you were born — everything was perfect.

Toad Cottages and Shooting Stars: Grandma’s Bag of Tricks

Remember when I was in search of a good book about grandparenting – and instead of finding a good book about grandparenting, I found myself stuck with Anne Lamott’s book about grandparenting? Right. We’re better off forgetting that ever happened.  One good thing came of that search, some nice people offered to send me a copy of Toad Cottages and Shooting Stars: Grandma’s Bag of Tricks.  I accepted and now that I’ve read it, I’m darn glad that I did.

Have you heard of the book Roots, Shoots, Buckets & Boots? Same author, which gives you some idea of what you’re going to find in Toad Cottages and Shooting Stars.  No angst, just feel-good stories and ideas that make this soon-to-be grandmother extra excited about exploring the world with Johnny Mac Pippin (assuming he ever decides to arrive, doggone it.)

Camp Granny, here we come!