woops

Goodness.

It seems like I've hit the wall where demands at work + demands at home have overwhelmed my life and there is very little time for anything unnecessary. 

So thankful for Ellie who's picking up the slack.

 

Right now, it's a good day if we wash the dishes after dinner and have 5 minutes of downtime before going to bed.  Anytime I get enough time to myself to do anything special, I feel anxious that what I'm doing isn't the best possible choice considering everything I want to and need to do.  So, blogging has taken a back seat for sure.  The girls are great (except for the all-too-common cold for ellie). David and I are chugging along, still trying to figure out... well, everything, it seems.

growing girl

Time is going too fast.

That floppy little newborn bundle that we welcomed into our family in July?  She's all grown up.  Holding her head up, reaching for things, pulling my hair and clawing my face, screaming, chuckling, blowing raspberries, and rolling over like a champ.  Our latest doctor's visit confirmed that she's awesome: 17 pounds, and an okay-shaped head.

She's also putting in her hours studying animals, colors, and shapes everyday so she can keep up with The Wild One.

i heart weekends (and extra an hour in a day!)

As each work week passes, I find myself counting on the weekend more and more.  It’s the best (only?) time I have to run errands, clean the house, tackle projects, crafts, and recipes, and really hang out hardcore with my girls.  What does hardcore hanging out look like?

This weekend we had donuts for breakfast (courtesy of a stealth pre-wake-up trip by David), spent too long at the craft store, bought new clothes, got smoothies, made new toys and accessories, hung out in the bedroom tent (Ellie is OBSESSED), resisted sleep, went to the grocery, made cupcakes, ate cupcakes, took a walk, helicoptered in the field, ran home, visited Finn, visited with neighbors, and hugged it out while Barney sang “we’re a happy family.”  In between all that I was amazed at Ellie’s new words and drawings, Mimi’s generous smiles, and snuck in plenty of kisses and squeezes to both my lovelies.   

I’m completely exhausted (as I sit here typing this one handed as Meems reluctantly sleeps in my other arm—excuse my brevity), but all of this is what I love.    

As Rihanna says, “cheers to the freakin’ weekend…”

halloween 2011

I think today was the first celebrate-able holiday of Ellie’s life!  I have big (really silly and unrealistic) ideas about what holidays will look like around the Love-Stronghold and today we did pretty not-bad, considering our primary participant was an almost 19 month old who would love absolutely anything if it involved sugary treats and who won’t remember a minute of it.

We pretty much failed at any forward planning, but were able to pull together a decent amount of excitement with minimal effort and almost no money.

The fall festivities started with a family visit to Lynd’s Fruit Farm, where Ellie was terrified of everything, but fell in love with the rocky gravel.  We convinced her to explore the pumpkin field and apple orchard after she spent a good while digging in the parking lot.

David dug the “pumpkin” box out of storage and spruced up the house with pumpkin candles, wood decorations, scarecrows (“guys” as Ellie says), and fake fall flowers.  He drew spooky spider webs on our front windows (to mirror the real one on the back window---EEK!). 

We decorated pumpkins and participated in a practice trick-or-treat at my office.  Ellie started balling the minute she walked into our office, but it was not so bad that a lollipop couldn’t make it better.  She enjoyed walking around the halls, but refused to talk to or take candy from anyone.

We talked about costumes (barely): Muno?  Brobee?  Fufa?  The fat toddler that ate too many Sugar Babies? but the craziness of daily life reigned supreme and we found ourselves on Halloween afternoon with a previously made tutu, a wand from Grandma, a bunch of pink clothes, wire, scraps of tulle, and purple duct tape.  What does that mean?  Abby Cadabby, of course!  A little bit of washable marker on the face and we were good to go.  

Tonight, we were those parents.  First: the ones that bribe their kids with candy to don goofy outfits and pose for pictures and, Second: the ones that walk their too-young-to-really-eat-candy kids around the neighborhood to do our dirty work for us.  We made out pretty well!

(sorry for the crap pics, we're not jessicalovephotography, you know?)

happiness

These are the results of my not so scientific study on what makes me happy, or at least what made me happy from mid-September to mid-October, 2011.  Nothing too surprising, really, and the values are probably more indicative of the ways I spend my time than anything else, but interesting nonetheless.


Analysis:

• I know the girls make me smile, laugh, and gush with pride.
• I find ways to treat myself even with limited time.  Unfortunately the self/happy category was mostly made up of getting extra sleep or extra food.  Those things should probably start to change to more useful and healthy treats to help me actually be happy with my self.
• Low results for house and husband were probably influenced more than any other category by lack of time and energy.  In the craziness that is our current life, those things have (sadly) faded into the background.  The silver lining to that cloud is that I think these things are okay enough to take a backseat for a little while. And yes, David does factor into the happiness of family time, but in my ideal world, I'd mention my husband more specifically, more often as a happiness trigger.
• I am pleasantly surprised by the number of work-related events that I recalled fondly at the ends of my days.  It's hard not to just see work as a necessary evil taking me a way from the girls, so I should try to appreciate it whenever I can.
• I wish I could think/write about this more, but I'm holding the infant that refuses to sleep alone at night, and typing with one hand is definitely NOT making me (or her) happy.

8

Wikipedia says the number 8 is considered a lucky number (that might bring wealth) in Chinese and Japanese culture.  It's a lucky number around here, since both these beautiful girls share that day as a birthday. Here they are on their most recent day:

three months

a year and a half (are you kidding?)

So much wealth!

frantic want-to GTD

David and I made “want to” and “have to” lists that we try to keep updated in our kitchen to keep us on track with getting things done.  Our usual “have to” list includes mowing the lawn, cleaning the kitchen and the floors, and finishing up a few projects that we’ve started but not finished (how fun).  Most of my “want to” list is made up of things that I want to spruce up around the house.  Today, armed with the power of the grandparent army, I found the strength to tackle a project on my "want to" list. 

First, I had to go gather supplies.  Without a definite plan, I made an unsatisfying stop at Home Depot, then headed through insane Sunday traffic to JoAnn Fabrics.  I came home with a few fabric purchases and decided that I would try to re-cover the gnarly seat cushion on Ellie’s Stokke Tripp Trapp Chair.  A super great deal on eBay, we had to accept the gruesome beige cover that came with it.  Aside from being un-fun, it is pretty disgusting—a fact that we can’t blame solely on the previous owners (you’ve seen Ellie feed herself yogurt, right?).

The fabric I ended up with wouldn't have been my first choice if I had endless time to search and money to spend, but I was excited that it was on sale, it was bright and fun, and really girly.  I consulted briefly with my mom, who actually knows how to sew, about how I should go about the project… then, quickly growing impatient, decided just to start.  I took the iPad into the purple room and looked up “diy tripp trapp cushion”.    

On a side note, can I show you the purple room?  Intended to be an art space, here’s what we’ve got going on.   

That's where I planned, cut, ironed, and sewed this entire project, see the sewing machine?  David says it looks like we’re hoarders.  And while I’m confessing to our craziness, this is what the kitchen looks like when I bake. 

Haha. (will you ever eat any of my treats again?)

Anyways, I got pretty excited when I found a rough tutorial outline online and started on my own.  Things seemed to be going well, the sewing machine was working, Ellie and Emery were occupied and I was making great progress.  Until I wasn’t.  The tutorial I found was written by a French person, who wasn’t awesome at explaining anything in English.  It got me started, but after consulting it multiple times (swearing more than I have in the past year) ripping out stitches to try things different ways, running out of bobbin thread (convincing David to reload it), and chasing down Alden after he ran away, my heart was racing and I was frustrated that I had wasted my precious weekend time on such a failure.  This is when my internal conversation turns to “this is why it’s not worth it to do anything,” and “you should’ve just been home playing with the girls.”  Probably because of David’s optimism (foolishness?) I kept going and ditched the tutorial.  Just to give you some perspective I’m pretty sure one of the steps in the tutorial said “put the right side of the back side of the bottom cushion on top of 2 of the four layers of batting”.  Yeah, that wasn’t happening.  

I finally figured out the right way to put all the pieces together, and then continued to eff up the seam about 5 times before finally getting it right.  Convinced at this point that it wouldn’t even fit on the chair, I was prepared for defeat, but…

It actually worked!  Since I couldn’t be bothered with precise little details, David was kind enough to read some directions and figure out how to make the extra large button hole for the strap to pass through (after this pic was snapped).  Voila!  We did it!  Without tears!  When Ellie saw it she…. didn’t really care.  She did tap it a few times, though.  Probably her way of saying, "holy crap, that's awesome!"

highlights

10.1
10.2 feeding emery with the rhino at the zoo (haha), ellie running at the zoo
10.3
10.4 celebrating a client's 16th birthday with soft pretzels and cupcakes
10.5 taking ellie and emery on a walk by myself
10.6 making funny faces at ellie to make her laugh, being greeted by a seemingly excited to see me nephew when I got home from work, brainstorming ideas to make people more happy at work
10.7
10.8 taking the girls to playgroup, making mimi almost laugh, loving that the girls have the same birth "day"

draw

Taking the time to create always makes me feel better about life.  I enjoy coming up with ideas, figuring out how to make things happen, and being in the moment of creating something that is pleasing to me, when time seems to fall away and I feel motivated and productive.  Most of the things that I choose to pass my free time include some sort of creative outlet: painting and redecorating the house, cooking and baking, scrapbooking, writing this blog.  It takes all different forms, but the way I feel when I’m doing any of those things (and they are turning out better than awful) is always the same.  Powerful, determined, getting things done.

Ellie already enjoys leaving her mark on the world.  On paper, windows, dry-erase boards, refrigerators, notebooks, posters, and books, if we’d let her.   

The girl loves to draw.  It all started with her love of opening things up.  She loved taking the caps off of the markers (and throwing them on the floor, of course).  I decided to have her make David a father's day card back in June and I don’t think a day has passed in the last 4 months that she hasn’t drawn something.  She’s getting better over time, her grip has improved (it's crazy amazing, actually), she’s gone through phases of drawing lines, elephants, scribbles and now I swear she’s trying to draw faces, possibly of her favorite Yo Gabba Gabba character, MUNO!!!! (he’s tall and friendly!)  

Her love for drawing has caused a good share of our frustration with her (and her with us) as well.  She loves MARKERS, and will scream for them instead of colored pencils or crayons.  She thinks she knows how to ask for certain colors by screaming and stomping if we show her the wrong one.  She mostly understands what markers belong with the window, or the paper, or the fridge, but every once in awhile she tries really hard to convince us they'll work in so many different places. (the floor, the wall, the chair, your foot!)  Nightly baths are basically just to wash her completely stained hands along with whatever stray body parts she decorated that day.  We kind of hate it, but mostly we love it.  We’re always impressed with the ability and focus she shows.  I’m so looking forward to seeing if this sticks with her for the next few years.  And really anxious for the day she decides it's important enough for HER to pick up the caps and put them back on the markers when she is done.

highlights 9.26-9.30

26: dancing with the stars, of course!
27: meetings with some of my favorite people at work. ellie putting on shows at dinnertime.
28: {oops}
29: morning family hangout time, with free treats from great harvest bread co.
30: reuniting with an old client who surprised me with how well she was doing. the extra free time we had thanks to a visit from grandma.

hi-ho, hi-ho

We’ve made it through two “part-time” weeks with me back at work.  I started back last Tuesday, and didn’t work more than 5 hours in any day, but it was still an adjustment for everyone.  I surprised myself with how emotional I was on Tuesday morning afternoon as I was getting ready.  It doesn’t matter that the girls are staying at home or that the girls are staying with their dad or that I know it is so much easier to walk out the door and head to work for a few hours.  It still makes me so sad to leave them for so long every day.  A flood of emotions came over me: sadness at the sweet moments I would miss, guilt for the tough moments David would face, anxiety about what kind of stress I would find at work, disappointment at all the things that didn’t get accomplished during maternity leave.  I cried before I left, then pulled it together long enough to almost make it to my office before starting to cry again.  I said it last time I went back, and was reminded again this time that I am so incredibly lucky to work with a group of extremely supportive and compassionate women who were there to comfort me, distract me, and make me laugh. 

Maybe the most surprising thing about my feelings upon returning to work is the extreme guilt I have about leaving David at home with the girls.  First, because I’m still not sure that I can convince myself that anything is more important than being around to grow your children.  (oh, right, food, money, and healthcare rank up there too..?)  Second because being a stay-at-home parent is exhausting.  Yes, he’s proved himself as more than capable (and I think willing, too?) in his time caring for Ellie and (now) Emery, but there’s just no way around the fact that taking care of an infant is so hard.  Emery depends on us (him, during the day) for eeeeverythiiiing.  Ellie wants us (him, during the day) for everything.  I’ve been home with them for a few days by myself and while I never really felt like it was any harder than being here with David, I know it’s a whole different mentality where you’re crazy lucky if you have even a 5 minute period of time to think about yourself.   A few hours of that and you find yourself in complete physical/mental/emotional burnout.   On top of that, David struggles just a whole lot little bit with interrupted sleep.  I check in as much as I can and do whatever I can to help out around home when I’m not here, but being torn between work and home is exhausting in its own way.  I’m just afraid we’re both going to melt down (ellie style?) at some point in the near future.  So far, for the most part, I think we’ve both been going out of our way to be encouraging and supportive for each other.  If we can keep it up (and David stays connected to the coffee IV we had installed last week) we’ll be good to go.

I often find myself thinking about a conversation I had with a coworker just after I found out I was pregnant with Emery.  This woman is crazy.  She talks a mile a minute, smokes a zillion cigarettes a day, has crazy organized notebooks and planners and calendars for everything, and has 2 kids just one year apart.  Already feeling overwhelmed with the demands of baby/self/marriage/home/work I asked her how she does it?  Does she ever have time just to rest?  Her answer, without hesitation:  nope… 

My goal every day is to keep going; to do whatever I can in every situation to keep all the balls I’m responsible for up in the air, and (most importantly) to stay calm enough to enjoy it all. 

And on that note, if you haven’t seen how awesome Ellie is at juggling, make sure she shows you next time you see her.

it's sloppy, but at least it's here

highlights 9.21-25

21: sharing lasagna and brownies with the fam, suisse shoppe cupcakes/celebrating at work
22: meeting an awesome new kid at work, ellie's too adorable "i've got my eyes on you" face
23: laughing with a coworker at an absurd work meeting
24: planning our trip to the zoo with ellie (first the "maaaaas," [goats!] and then the "bphreeww!" [elephant!] and then the "eh eh oh oh ehs" [monkeys!]) and having her repeat the same order once we got there
25: going back to bed with emery in the morning, ellie responding "noooo," when asked if she could leave her paci in her crib after nap (and to a million other questions), girls' date to planet smoothie, calm squishy (alone!) time with emery, family walk after dinner (sunday = awesome)

freak out

Two times in the last week, I felt like I was "that mom." You know, the one who doesn't know how to calm, discipline, or otherwise control their child.  So embarrassing.

Epic Public Meltdown #1:
When: Friday, September 16, 2011
Where: Polaris Mall parking lot and play place (plus the entire distance between)
What: Screaming, crying & flopping on the floor until the majority of the kids in the play place could no longer play out of fear of whatever was tormenting this little girl.  A handful of parents (including a few of those lazy ones that don't even budge when their kid is screaming) had to come over to redirect their little ones.
Why: Ellie wanted to be in Emery's stroller
How it was resolved: Ignored her protests (but did take a video to send to sis and hubs), proceeded to play place while attempting to redirect her attention.  She eventually calmed down enough to ask for her paci and played happily.  I continued to get sympathetic looks and comments from the other parents for the rest of our visit. That's right. All kids can be irrational freaks from time to time.  Especially when their parents completely miss a nap. My girl was passed out before we got out of the parking lot. 

Epic Public Meltdown #2:
When: Thursday, September 22, 2011 (all day)
Where: Panera dining room
What: SCREAMING, crying & flailing
Why: Ellie wanted to drink my pop
How it was resolved: Ignored her protests, tried to give her her own water with and without a straw, D and I looked at each other helplessly.  I eventually walked with her around the restaurant while talking about the mac and cheese and yogurt that was on its way. Despite the fact that the employees packed our "for here" order "to go" (a not so subtle hint?) we stayed to eat and she calmed down and ate more than she ever has before. 

Have her terrible-two tantrums just started early? Are we terrible at discipline? Or is this just life with a "spirited" (to quote my mom) toddler?  Any embarrassing Ihavenoideawhatishappeningorhowtofixit parenting moments you care to share?

highlights 9.17-20

17: successfully surviving the day with three kids, and enjoying LaRosa's pizza, yo
18: seeing ellie with grandma, watching cable, and getting to actually talk to david in the car while the girls slept
19: skipping one last day of work
20: watching emery smile and coo at david, ellie eating dinner, hugging, squeezing, and playing with my girls after work

bragging

We’re super lucky (and endlessly thankful) that our parents are willing to travel across the state to spend time with their granddaughters and provide (much needed) support to us!  I think I can speak for David in saying that in addition to the little relief their visits provide, we’ve also enjoyed getting to spend extra time with our parents, letting them see more of our daily life, talk with them about whatever comes up, see our daughters enjoy their visits, and attempt to provide them with some good food and somewhat comfortable sleeping arrangements to help return some of the goods they’ve passed our way over the past 28 years.

We’ve enjoyed a few date nights… mostly consisting of 2 overly tired parents in puke-stained clothes questioning whether or not we remembered to put deodorant on that day heading out to find the closest/quickest/cheapest bite to eat.  That doesn’t sound appealing to you?  Well, it is super awesome to us.  The pure simplicity of being able to leave the house without considering feeding schedules, naptimes, toddler shoes (which we seem to forget on about half of all trips), diaper bags, carseats and strollers is too pleasant for words.  Other times we just depend on our parents to help us be better parents and make the time to clean the house, cut the grass, and take care of other things that happened so easily a few years ago. 

I had one particular day a few weeks ago when Grandma came up, when I was feeling so accomplished I decided to take pictures of my spoils! 

Behold: 

I finished the beginning of updating our desk stools to go with our new living room/office space.  Still need to make the edges pretty and paint the legs.

Here are the results of a few hours worth of sorting, organizing, and folding clothes to update the girls’ drawers with a space all for Emery and clothes that are more season-appropriate. 

Most amazingly of all (right, D?) I sorted, organized, and folded/hung all of my clothes.  My side of the closet (floor) hardly ever looks like this.  Some things never change, right mom & dad?

In my mind there were about 20 more things that were accomplished that day, but it must all be relative.  Some days I bet we don’t get anything “done”, but at least we can brag about making babies smile and laughing with/at/in spite of our girls.  And we can also brag about making babies.  (that’s what I heard when I read that last sentence back in my mind)

Thanks, ‘rents!

highlights

14: ellie's reaction when we showed her that emery can play with toys by having her hold a toy animal in her hand. taking the girls to uptown westerville and the farmers market. 15: dinner and drinks! at Casa MJF. 16: david wearing jeans! watching ellie and finn run around excitedly at grandma ann's. more drinks...

highlights 9.13

graeter's. getting to see the times when emery is more alert and calm (and when she recognizes her big sister).

highlights 9.12

having the kitchen and the floors clean emery sleeping in my arms (lots of times after her shots this morning) ellie's "oh wow"s

highlights 9.11

running Ellie into the house in the rain this afternoon
seeing Emery smile while watching the fan
family hangout with Mike, Jess & Finn

happy thoughts

There are a lot of times when I stay away from here because I know that all that's on my mind, or all that I can think of to say will come off as me complaining.  I want this to be a place where I can record my thoughts and figure things out and, in some way, hold myself accountable: so, mom and dad don't freak out, but I want to get some thoughts out :)

I can feel so defeated and exhausted with my (close to perfect) life.  I also simultaneously realize how incredibly pathetic my thoughts are that I don't even want to give them a (public?) voice.  Speaking rationally: I have the greatest life I could ever ask for.  My loves are healthy and happy.  I have a devoted husband, two amazing daughters, a supportive and fun extended family and friends, a safe place to live and dream, and a job.  I could go on, but those are just the basics; not even accounting for all the glorious luxuries that fill my days.  Even with all this, there are still times (more regular than I really want to admit) when I'm just sad.  I wish I could list some of the reasons I'm unhappy but there really isn't even a way to explain, and like I said above, even if I could list out some reasons each one would be shockingly absurd after recounting my charmed life.  In the past 2 months I can honestly say I've felt more happiness than I could have ever imagined and more sad and hopeless, too.  I want more happiness and (unrealistically, I know) really don't feel like there should be any sadness in my life.

Every day feels like a roller coaster, with each member of our family on a different track.  I can be so overwhelmed with happiness while laughing at something Ellie is doing while David might be stomping around because he's annoyed with his allergies.  Ten minutes later, Ellie might be on the floor crying because she can't have something she wants, I might be near tears because none of my clothes fit, and David and Emery might be cooing at each other while happily playing in the "ocean."  I get mad at David when he's grumpy, I feel like a worthless parent when I'm grumpy, and I'm probably a not-so-fun wife, either.  I think (hope!) that to some degree this is just a part of parenthood, and growing pains, and figuring out how to maintain a family/house/life outside of just one person, but it's hard and it seems to be getting harder everyday and I want our life to be fun, not hard.  


I've spent a good amount of time reading "self-help" books or books/information about happiness.  I know that something needs to change in my mind more than in my life to fix the times when I'm sad, but what do I do and how do I start?  One of the most basic things I've read about to start to change the way you think about your life is to start a "gratitude journal" where every day you recount the best things that happened.  I tried this near the end of my pregnancy with Emery.  My goal was to record three things that went well each day and why I thought they went well, and (as lousy as it sounds) most days I struggled to come up with a few.  That statement almost makes me laugh out loud!... To think that I couldn't think of great things while I had a beautiful daughter to enjoy as well as another one growing inside me is complete craziness.  But honestly, in my own personal journal, I couldn't just record 3 great things?  There's something wrong (and I know it's not with my life, but with my thoughts).

So my first step towards feeling (and thinking) better: I'm going to record the best things that happen each day.  Soon enough, what makes me "happy" should be apparent, and then I can make more of that happen in my life.  I feel like this is official, so hopefully that makes me stick to it.  I think it'd be rad (sounds like David, eh?) if you joined me.  If this doesn't work, I think I'll take Ellie's advice and resign myself to watching Yo Gabba Gabba episodes on repeat all day.

15 minute breakdown... GO!

The past 3 days, I've been trying to make time to update this blog, but it hasn't happened. So, while David is working, Ellie is napping, Emery is fighting sleep, and water is on to start compiling a casserole for dinner, I reheated my decaf coffee and I'm giving myself 15 minutes to get my thoughts out. That probably means no editing or re-reading for clarity, so good luck reading on.

I have to say, even though it probably doesn't look like it on the outside, we're getting in the swing of having two kids. (Shame on us for deciding to buy a new couch and proceed to re-do the entire living space of our house while adjusting.) Ellie's sleep has been mostly back to normal with an afternoon nap and a regular bedtime. We usually find one time period each day to do something to get all of us out of the house. We frequent Planet Smoothie, local parks, Jess, Mike & Finn's house, the grocery store, and Target. I've made time to bake some treats, David's gone mountain biking and the weather is cooler so we can spend time outside. Emery still keeps us guessing--it seems like she either wants to be up and eating all day or impossible to rouse. The only thing she's doing consistently is waking up more and more frequently with each passing night. Eek. Ellie was sleeping from 11 pm to 5 or 6am from the time she was 6 weeks old. Getting to watch middle of the night TV has even lost it's appeal.

I'm looking at the last few weeks I'll have off from work to spend entirely with my family with no other stresses to deal with. There have been days over the past 2 months that I've had to try really hard to be excited about (or event tolerate, who am I kidding?) the craziness of the demands at home. But I'll be bummed to have to go back to work and miss out on the awesome moments (no matter how few) that each day at home is guaranteed to bring.

Like today, for example, when Em spit up on Ellie's face when she was trying to give her a kiss <3

ellie

Ellie was a super easy baby. The hardest things she ever did were wake up every 2 or 3 hours at night to eat, puke all over us and our stuff, and poop out a few diapers. She was usually content to sit on our laps and smile at our faces and read books. When she first came into our life, we had to adjust from being a young couple with few responsibilities to being mom and dad to an infant that was completely dependent on us--it felt like a big, hard deal. I wish we understood how easy we had it then.


Fast forward a few months and you'd find us constantly "finger-walking" our girl around everywhere she could see. She was determined to walk early and needed our help to practice. It felt like we never sat down. A few months later, if we could convince her to sit down, you'd find us battling our daughter at the kitchen table. She decided (after being a great eater for the first year of her life) that she only wanted to eat fruit, yogurt, and cheese. The next few months included daily tiffs over changing her diaper, letting her feed herself, having to stay inside when it was raining and/or dark, not eating Alden's dog food, and coloring with markers on paper only.


After a particularly rough day when it seemed like we didn't have a moment to ourselves between meeting Emery's basic needs and dealing with Ellie's constant demands, I asked David what one word he would use to describe our first born. After a few seconds, he said crazy. Trying not to pass (negative) judgment on my daughter, I said wild. After talking some more, we decided that the positive way to explain Ellie would be to say she is independent.


Ellie knows what she wants and what she doesn't and she makes her preferences (however absurd they are) known. She has amazed us with her ability to accomplish tasks that seem too difficult. She absolutely loves what she loves. And then there are the things that she hates (or, doesn't like, you know what I mean). Over the past few months, Ellie has decided, learned, or been taught to flail around, scream, throw things, run away and grab our faces when we're suggesting something she's not interested in. We try hard to prevent whatever we can predict will be a difficult situation (get enough sleep, hide off-limit toys, give warnings), encourage effective communication whenever possible ("use your words" instead of screaming), redirect her to more appropriate activities to take her mind off what's pissing her off, and hardest of all not give in to her inappropriate attempts at getting her way. Why? Because some things she just has to learn to tolerate.

I love my daughter more than words will ever convey, and honestly, I can usually even appreciate something about the fits she throws, her (failed) attempts to communicate, her silly preferences and requests. But I'd be lying if I said I don't worry about her future ability to regulate her emotions and channel all of her determination and energy into something constructive. I hope David and I will be able to guide her safely through life without squashing her fierce independence and allow her the freedom and power that she desires so that she can experience everything life has to offer (without getting too hurt). Right now that means she doesn't want to sleep, but wants to eat dog food and spend every waking moment in a swing and without a shirt on. I can only imagine what we'll be fighting about in 15 years. I guess we'll have to choose our battles wisely.

week six. and yes, i did think it was only week five.

put together while sipping a venti starbucks and bopping a baby to sleep.
booya.

mama meltdown

Earlier this week, after spending the day home with the girls while David worked I thought it would be a good idea to take Ellie to JoAnn Fabrics to pick up a few things for some projects I've been thinking about and let her run around the store and explore. (She about melted my heart when I loaded her in the car and she looked over at Emery's empty seat and said "Mimi?" wondering where her sister was) Ellie did great at JoAnn's and was more than happy to walk along the wall of beads (that she could touch, but could NOT get off their hooks--perf!) and take in all their sparkly goodness. After a little disappointment on my part, realizing that some of my ideas for projects were either a.) too expensive, b.) too much work, or c.) too crazy we headed to the checkout with a few items.

We were greeted by a line with 5 or 6 people in front of us. We headed down the (awesomely designed) single-file aisle lined with (well thought out) trinkets and bottles and candy all perfectly reachable for my little explorer. I took a deep breath and was prepared to keep her contained and safe, with a little interest in not destroying the store. Soon after we were in line, a few customers piled in behind us. While I was bending down to put something back that Ellie had out, I hit into the woman's cart behind us. I apologized out loud, while silently wondering why the hell she was so close to me. Then she started making small talk; asking how old Ellie was, asking me what frame I liked and what color mat she should buy? Really? I swear I was more than pleasant with her, but inside my impatience was building (about to explode).

I'm not a patient person--I'll be the first to admit it, and David could probably give many examples of my inability to stay calm in crappy situations that aren't quickly getting better (red lights, traffic, lines, multi-step house projects, slow computers, interrupted favorite TV shows). It's gotten worse since having both babies. I only have a few moments to accomplish things that I want to do and if something isn't going right when I finally have the chance (or take/make the time), it's never going to happen. So, as we were standing in line without moving forward, feeling cornered by the customers behind us, and fighting all the products in Ellie's grabbing hands, I scooped Ellie up, left the stuff we were going to buy at the cashier and headed out to the car, crying.

I was exhausted, disappointed, and most of all, defeated. Taking the energy to make the trip and returning home empty handed... After talking to the parents and David and calming down, I was able to realize that Ellie had fun and it wasn't such a big deal. I just won't be able to do anything for a few more years. JK. Kinda.

The next day, armed with David's optimism (more on that later), and both of the girls, we headed back to JoAnn's and got all the goods. Our family is awesome. Haha.

recovering (with grandma's help)

week four

not giving up

I promise, I'm really not giving up on my "this week" photos (I'm excited to keep track of our daily life and growing family, plus I think it'll help keep me on track for the girls' scrapbooks) but we've undertaken a not-planned-out desk makeover which has dismantled our computer and hard-drive for the past few days. Plus, my body is really trying to tear me down and that, plus the babes leaves little energy for anything. Coming soon!

two lovely girls

our first family outing

Before Emery was born, I had a grand plan to prepare a special package for Ellie that we would leave at the house when we went to the hospital. I thought it would be fun for her to get a bunch of new and entertaining toys to distract her from the fact that her whole life was crazy for a few days. I was also hoping those new toys would be awesome enough to keep her occupied while David and I adjusted to life with a newborn. The plan never actually happened (even though we talked about it a lot), but we did make it a point to take Ellie to Build-a-Bear about a week after Em was born so that she could pick out a new, special stuffed animal.

Thankfully, we attempted this trip while Grandma Ann was still around to offer extra support (and hands!). Build-a-Bear seems like a fun idea, but apparently not for a cranky 15 month old that really just wants to play on the computer! We spent some time trying to convince Ellie to pick out her own stuffed animal--holding up one lifeless animal skin after the next, seeing if she took an interest in any of them. The one that David and I were both pushing for is the only one that Ellie consistently pushed away every time we showed it to her (wah-waaahhh). Usually Ellie is pretty clear about what she wants and what she doesn't, but after about 5 minutes of hugging then pushing away animals, we decided just to pick out a cute little monkey. Things weren't going great, but we still had hope. Until we realized that one of the building machines was occupied by a group of kids from a daycare, and the other one with a family of 3 kids. We had to wait in line. Ellie doesn't understand that (and I'm not so good at it either). I almost lost it when David made some comment about how this trip would have been easier without Emery. I responded, while choking back tears, that this is our family now...

After the family before us was done, we tried to convince Ellie to participate in building her monkey. Kiss this heart! Give her a hug! Step on this pedal that makes the giant machine make scary noises!...OK, maybe just stop crying and trying to run away???

We finished the monkey and headed over to the computers to fill out her birth certificate. We named her Dinah, the name (er, sounds) that Ellie said when I asked her what she wanted to name her baby sister a few days before Emery's birthday. She got a cute little ruffle skirt and a bow for her ear and we were off. And probably won't return until the girls are much, much older.

everything from the past 10 months: emery's story

In honor of our newest little bundle's due date (July 21), I wanted to try to find a minute to record some memories and emotions about her birth story, which was so different from Ellie's and so different from what I was expecting. Here is the long story, only a week late!

Similar to last year with Ellie, when I was pregnant with Emery, I had a hard time thinking too much about when she'd actually be here and what our new life would be like. I spent most of the pregnancy ignoring what was actually happening and focusing on trying to keep Ellie's life as normal as it ever was.

Our girls are 15 months apart. That's crazy. People ask us if we were planning on having another one so soon after Ellie and I don't think David and I have a real answer for that. Sure, we knew it was a possibility, but were actually completely shocked when we found out I was pregnant again when Ellie was just 7 months old. We barely told anyone for about a month, pushed off calling the doctor, and didn't really talk about it--it took us a little while just to be able to think about it by ourselves. The next 9 months were difficult for me; emotionally, physically, mentally.

Emotionally, I struggled with what baby number 2 meant for baby number 1. I worried about being the best mom that Ellie deserved despite everything else I was dealing with. Physically, I was tired, I gained a ton of weight (again, on top of the weight that was still there from Ellie), had crazy heartburn, lots of pelvic pressure, and stretch marks. Mentally, I questioned if this would mess up Ellie's life, how we would afford another kid, how we would accomplish daily tasks, how to balance life, pregnancy, and work. My coping strategy for dealing with all of that was to ignore it. For the past nine months, I've felt like a shell of my old self, unable to really be present to anything that was happening in my world except for my time with Ellie. I think it was all too overwhelming for me and I didn't feel as happy as I thought I should feel and it made it hard to live and interact in normal ways.

I had a hard time connecting with the baby that was growing inside me. I was just anxious to get to the end and to not be pregnant anymore. I started telling people at work that I was going to have this baby 3 weeks early (the earliest date she could live healthfully), and then would explain that no, I am in no way ready to have another baby, but I'm so ready to be done being pregnant. When I went in for my 38 week appointment and my blood pressure had sky-rocketed, I started freaking out. I had joked (stupidly) the night before that I wanted to find a way to make my blood pressure high for my appointment so they would induce me because of pre-eclampsia. I didn't get induced that day, but was sent to Labor & Delivery to have my blood pressure monitored and some labs run--all of which cleared me to go home. I was sent home with a few giant bottles to collect all of my urine for the next 24 hours. This would give the doctors a more accurate test of the protein in my urine and a more definite diagnosis of pre-eclampsia.

David worked the next day and I was home with Ellie. We hung out at home, went to the grocery store, and tried our first ever White Castle for lunch. When David got home, I went to the office quickly, thinking that I should get a few things in line in case I ended up staying at the hospital, but mostly planning on being back for a meeting at 4:30. I went to the hospital and had to go through all of the paperwork to get admitted for tests again, they sent my urine bottles off to the lab and hooked me up to the blood pressure machine. My blood pressure was consistently higher than normal, but not over the "emergency" range my doctor had told me about. After about 45 minutes, they came to tell me that everything seemed fine so they'd have me wait for my urine results in the waiting room.

At that point I was expecting to go home, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I wanted to be induced and I wanted to be sent home to prepare for it another day. I think I told David that I wasn't prepared for either result. I didn't want to be pregnant (and worried about my blood pressure) anymore, but I wasn't ready to leave Ellie, go through labor & delivery, and have a newborn either. It was a matter of minutes after being told I'd be sent to the waiting room that the doctor came back in to tell me that my results were 306 and 300 is the limit for pre-eclampsia, so I was going to be induced. I asked if I was allowed to leave the hospital and she said no. So now what? David is at home trying to cook dinner for Ellie and I'm stuck at the hospital about to have a baby.

David called everyone to figure out what needed to happen. I had a seemingly incompetent (and I think brand new) nurse dig in my wrist to place the IV. David and Ellie came to hang out with me at the hospital. Ellie watched her Elmo video on the portable DVD player and sat in my lap, curious about the tubes and tape stuck to my arms. I cried. David tried to hold everything together. I asked him to take some pictures, this was the last time it would just be us, our family of 3 (4 with Aldy, but obviously he wasn't allowed at the hospital). Ellie had no idea.

We were moved to our birthing room which was equipped with a giant bathtub and birthing ball that Ellie enjoyed. They started the induction process and I was told that because of my diagnosis of pre-eclampsia I would have to be given a drug called Magnesium Sulfate throughout my labor and for 24 hours after delivery. I was told that it would make me feel like I had the flu, but would prevent me from having seizures. Awesome! Mike came to pick up Ellie to wait for grandparents to arrive to take care of her for the night and right before they left, the nurse came to tell me that they had to pad my bed rails because of the possibility of seizures. She told me this moments before I said goodbye to my baby girl. That was terrible. The medicine made it almost impossible for me to see anything. My eyes couldn't focus on anything near or far and I would get headaches if I even tried. I felt exhausted and weak the whole time I was in labor and all the nurses kept commenting that the medicine was awful, but was better for us in the long run.

I was induced with pitocin, the same as with Ellie, but it didn't work the same way this time. My labor was slow, there wasn't much pain, contractions were sporadic. I had to have a catheter in, which was the most painful part at the beginning. A doctor came to break my water and I'm not sure what he did, but it was super painful, took forever, and he and the nurse kept apologizing during and after the process. I continued to "progress," but it was very slow. Sometime near midnight I asked to have an epidural, hoping I'd be able to sleep some during the night. The doctor that placed my epidural wasn't very nice and had to do it twice to make sure he did it right. At this point, I felt like everything was going terribly--things that happened seamlessly during Ellie's delivery were extremely painful and uncomfortable this time. I was convinced this baby wasn't ready to come out, and felt so guilty for the attitude I'd had towards her for the past nine months. We continued through the night, sleeping as much as possible between visits from doctors and nurses, worried about our parents that refused to go home to sleep and were camped out in the waiting room. Sometime in the early morning I asked the nurse if I could eat after I delivered and she told me that unfortunately I wouldn't be able to eat for as long as I was on the Magnesium Sulfate (24 hours after delivery). Argh! Food at this point was like the only thing that I could imagine to motivate and reward myself for going through this, and now I didn't even have that.

I was exhausted, hungry, and defeated. Everything seemed to be going wrong and my feelings that our baby wasn't ready to come into the world were growing. I wished I could take back every negative thought I ever had about this pregnancy to take care of her a little longer. I slowly continued to progress until around 9:30 when we started getting ready to push. When Ellie was born Chris Rock was being interviewed on David Letterman--a funny but weird thing I'll always remember. David told me he thought that this one was going to be born during Regis & Kelly (a guilty pleasure of mine before life got crazy!), but 10:00 rolled around and Regis & Kelly was replaced by Let's Make a Deal and David turned off the TV. The bright spot of this labor was that a doctor I really enjoyed from our practice was going to be the one to deliver our girl. He was fun, friendly, and made me feel comfortable. Pushing was harder this time, with Ellie it just happened so fast and easily, this time I had to work to try and figure out the right way to push. Our second, beautiful, amazing little girl was born at 10:08 am on Friday, July 8th--exactly 15 months after Ellise.

It felt so much different this time. I think it was partly because I had such a difficult time connecting with this pregnancy with everything else going on in our life and partly because of the drugs that were being pumped into my system, but when she finally came out I just remember flopping my head back to the pillow and closing my eyes. So relieved to be done. It's hard to admit that I didn't feel instantly overwhelmed with emotion the way I did with Ellie, I was just tired and relieved. They put her up on my chest and I tried to look at her, but could barely keep my eyes open, much less focused on her. The nurse asked if it was okay to take her to clean her up and it was fine. While they were working on her, she was "singing," which we thought was cute at first, but soon found out that the noise was actually a sign of respiratory distress (that could be caused by the magnesium sulfate). Eventually they brought her back over to me and hearing her struggle for breath, and root around on my neck was enough to make me fall in love and worry like the worrier I am. She was soft, tiny, warm and sweet. I was so happy to have her in my arms--to be done with the waiting game of pregnancy and the stress of delivery. She was here, and we were more of family now than we had ever been before.

sick, sleep deprived & stuck at home

home

the calm

I think there are a few moments in every life that will always stand out as being extraordinary. Anyone watching these moments from the outside would think nothing of them, but to be in these moments, there is clarity and passion, and a feeling that in this very instant your whole life is falling into line.

Both of my moments have felt the same. The first was forever ago, shortly after David and I had met. It was in the middle of a swirling snowstorm, in the middle of the night. It was so early in our friendship that we were still so awkward about touching each other; so much so that if our arms brushed up against each other while we were walking, it would feel tingly and exciting. David was leaving my dorm after bringing over a CD he had burned for me and the next day, we’d both leave Denison and go home for a month for the holidays. We had already said goodbye, but it didn’t feel right. I asked David if I could have a hug, and he came back to meet me, and we stood in the middle of the quad with the snowflakes falling around us and we hugged. It felt like the whole world was spinning and still at the same time. In the weeks, months, and eventually years since that moment on the quad, David and I have tumbled through our relationship, and all the ups and downs that have shaped it. We've laughed and we've fought, but through it all, I have to say I never really questioned whether this was how my life should be.

Right before Ellise was born, David and I were alone in the delivery room for a few minutes. We were listening to a song from that CD that David had made for me years earlier. We put our heads together and sat there without saying anything. All the memories of the things that had brought us to that moment came flooding over me. I was overwhelmed with every emotion that I’d ever felt, and at the same time, also felt completely calm. I had a sense that “this is it.” Whatever had happened before and whatever would come in the future were all settled in this moment, of us being together about to start our family, and knowing that everything was exactly as it should be.

It’s not (too much of) an exaggeration to say that every moment following that one has been chaotic. We’re still struggling to find our new life, figure out our new roles as parents, decide what is important to us and how to fit that into our daily adventures. If that doesn’t sound daunting enough, I have to admit that 14 months later we’re still trying to figure out how to keep our floors, dishes, and clothes clean, plan meals, save money, take regular showers, keep our dog from running away and (most importantly?) be nice to each other now that Ellie demands so much of our attention. The pessimist in me wants to say that most days we fail at most of these tasks. More objectively, I can realize that at the end of the day, regardless of whatever happened, we’re still all happiest just because we're together and I hope that’s the only thing that will ever matter.

As we're looking forward to welcoming our second daughter into our crazy world, I'm thinking frequently of these moments that had the power to remind me of what was important in my life; hoping that I can find a way to realize that no matter how out of control every day is going to seem in the next few months, everything is really exactly as it should be. (That's so much easier than trying to actually figure out how we're going to wrangle both of the kids...)