I've been meaning to write this post for a while, but the motivation to get it done just wasn't clicking. Usually when I have a plan to write a particular story I wait until I feel inspired and most of what I want to say has already been written in my head, and if that doesn't happen I skip the story all together and wait for the next inspiration. This one needs to be written, though, whether I feel inspired or not, because I feel that it is important to share.
During my third trimester with Kai I started to feel like a "rage monster", easily stressed, anxious and irritable. I chalked a lot of that up to the state of worldly affairs: political, economic, and social chaos. I asked my OB about it, anyway, and he warned that increased anxiety could mean an increased chance for postpartum depression after the baby was born. Since I hadn't met the threshold to need medication we agreed to keep an eye on how I was feeling and just ride the tide.
The mental and emotional build up to our delivery date was intense. My fear of the looming epidural increased on a daily basis until it almost consumed me. I felt so scared and sick going into the delivery that when things worked out and Kai was finally in my arms, the comparative relief (and drugs) made me feel so high. I was so happy and thankful! I felt euphoric, even. What a difference than how I had been feeling for weeks and months.
Finally getting to hold our sweet girl, to meet her, gaze into her face, love on her felt blissful. I felt good on the day she was born, better the next day, and even better on day three. We were discharged from the hospital, always one of two of my hardest post-delivery times, but I still felt ok. Then day 4 hit and I started to get what I initially called the Baby Blues. I figured the downs were to be expected, I'd experienced them before, but remembered that they would come and go. Only this time they didn't go. Day five was worse than day four, and day six was even worse than day five. I expected one day I'd feel down then the next would be a little better, but this time each day was worse than the last. I started having prolonged sobbing fits, would wake up in the morning with anxiety attacks, my body would involuntarily seize and my skin felt like it had been raked with a cheese grater every time Kai started to cry and it was time to take care of her. By now I realized I was dealing with much more than just a case of the blues...
I talked to my OB who offered Zoloft and Xanax, but previous experience made me hesitant about the first and fear made me wary of the second, though I finally decided to start there. I worked to fine-tune a magical schedule of vitamin supplements and anti-anxiety pills so I could get through each day without maxing out my prescription or over-medicating, but I was still only treating symptoms without fixing the problem. I called my OB back to ask for the anti-depressant and a referral to a counselor. I met with the counselor and sobbed through my entire appointment, realizing that talking wasn't going to bring me the relief I was now desperate for. I wouldn't be returning for a follow-up appointment because I didn't think it would help me as fast as I needed, nor could I afford to continue to pay since they weren't covered by insurance (as my OB said: "taking the mental health out of health care".) The anti-depressant would take a couple of weeks to build up until I noticed the effects, I just had to try to make it through the storm. Mom had to come back to stay with us for several more days, to help take care of me and the baby so Clif wasn't burdened with trying to juggle all of our substantial needs alone. One night my blood pressure was high and I called the on-call OB for guidance. After sobbing on the phone with her she directed me to the ER to make sure I wasn't experiencing toxemia. The ER ran tests, determined there was nothing physically wrong with me and sent me back home, much to my dismay. I couldn't eat or drink (one notable time tearfully begging Clif not to make me drink a glass of water because I just couldn't manage it), barely slept without medicating myself to sleep, didn't want to get out of bed, would finally launch out of bed in a full-blown anxiety attack: panting, heart racing, looking wildly around the room wondering what to do and not having any idea of how to function. I would cry throughout the day, feeling that all I wanted to do was go to the hospital, beg for a room and IV nutrition/fluid/medication. I felt like I was drowning and there was no relief, no one who could help me.
I couldn't get through two weeks without begging for any and all help from everyone I could think of. I could both not imagine how some people suffered in silence for as long as they did, and also understand how people could get to the point of suicidal. Luckily I wasn't shy about stating exactly how I was feeling and I wasn't having any thoughts of harming myself or others, but I understood. It was a terrifying place to be, scared that I would never feel normal again.
Thankfully my support group is substantial and amazing and my medications started working. I slowly started to have good spots in really hard days, I left the house on short trips to get a change of scenery and prove to myself that I could. I started to feel better one moment at a time.
There is no shame in asking for help, whenever you need it for whatever reason. This is something I've believed for a long time, and now believe it even more fervently having gotten through such a difficult time. I know there are people out there that, for whatever reason, feel they have to suffer alone in silence, but that doesn't have to be the case. This journey of becoming a parent has already taught me so much, made me grow in so many ways. It's also made me realize how much I need other people in my life; for comfort, care, love, support, encouragement. I'm learning to be stronger, but also to be ok with asking for and receiving help, which is harder than it sounds. This blog began as a way to document our new life as a growing family, and the downs are just as much a part of that story as the ups.
Friday, March 23, 2018
Friday, December 29, 2017
Welcome, Baby Girl!
As well documented in this blog, the pregnancies and birth
experiences for Flynn and Toby were challenging, at best. Particularly
their births, that turned out to be chaotic, stressful, substantially
less than pleasant. As Kai's due date neared, I became more and more
anxious about our scheduled c-section, in particular the thought of
having to endure the placement of another epidural.
In an effort to try to have as much 'control' (HAHA!) over this delivery as possible, I scheduled a date for a c-section 2 months ahead of her due date. I wanted to pick a day during the week and get it on the books to avoid another last-minute cram in an already established schedule and risk getting a potentially less experienced anesthesiologist. This felt like a great plan until 2 weeks before our date I learned at work that our insurance was changing and I needed to move our scheduled section ahead half a week to ensure I could be out of the hospital before the end of November or be subject to two deductibles when the new plan kicked in at the beginning of December. It was a tense couple of days as we scrambled to change our plans, but we got it worked out.
Monday, November 27th rolled around and I woke up feeling sick to my stomach and light-headed with anxiety. I'd barely slept the night before, even after taking a Unisom to help take the edge off, and just tried to focus on breathing slowly to stay calm. For weeks my fear of the epidural had been increasing, making multiple appearances during my OB appointments, and now I was getting read to stare it down, knowing that it's success or failure would dictate the entire birth experience for all of us.
It was a busy morning on the Labor and Delivery floor, 4-5 other mothers in labor had staff juggling and extended our check-in triage time. I had started to feel a little bit better once I was in a bed and monitored, but soon after a bolus of fluids and the mounting anxiety I started to feel very unwell, chief complaint: lungs hurting as if I'd been swimming for hours. It was bad enough I didn't want to go into the surgery suite, I certainly didn't want to go in feeling sick and worried something was wrong with me.
Waiting felt like an eternity, but it was finally time to go back to the surgery suite. I had to go alone with the nurse, Clif wouldn't be allowed back unless the epidural was successful. I started to cry the moment I walked up to the surgery doors, and kept crying all the way in, up on the table, and as the amazing surgery team started talking me through the procedure. They acknowledged that they had heard about my previous bad experience and outlined a multi-step plan of attack to help ensure I wouldn't have to be put under this time. The nurse who was placing the spinal told me each step she planned to take (starting in one location, moving to a different location if that didn't work, offering a mild sedative in my IV to help me relax, calling in another person to attempt if she couldn't get it placed), in addition to telling me very calmly every single action she was taking through the process. It was very comforting and the man who stood in front of me as my coach was calming and reassuring.
The first entry point she tried in my spine was a no-go. It felt like it was off to one side and was painful. She told me to let her know if it hurt, but I stayed quiet for a short time, thinking some pain was part of the process, until I let her know it was painful. She stopped immediately, they administered some sedative with my approval, and she moved to the second location higher up on my spine. By this time my OB was in the suite with us and coaching me right along with everyone else. He could see, and I could feel, that the second location was going much better as I didn't have the intense pain and didn't feel sensation on one side more than the other. It seemed to be a very smooth entry and I continued crying, but this time with relief. It worked and I could stay awake!
My relief was short-lived. As the team got me positioned on the table I started to feel terrible. Nauseated, light-headed, my vision graying in pulse with the sudden headache that felt like it was going to explode out of the front of my skull. The anesthesiologist had been by to see me during check in and told me I might experience these symptoms as the epidural would lower my blood pressure. He said if I felt like I was going to be sick to just let someone know and they'd give me the IV meds to bring my pressure back up as quickly as possible. It didn't help that my BP had spiked to an uncomfortable height while the epidural was placed, only to have it drop, then be chemically brought back up again. I briefly wished I could go back to having the spinal placed over feeling the effects of the BP roller coaster. Luckily the stabilizing meds actually work as quickly as I was told they would.
As the headache and graying vision subsided and I started to feel normal again, Clif was brought in to join me. As soon as I saw him and realized my dream for this delivery was happening, the tears started again from feeling relieved and elated. Clif held my hand and told me they'd already gotten started on my incision when he was brought in and the delivery was well under way. In a matter of moments Kaileigh was out and taken to be measured and weighed before they brought her back for me to hold while they completed my procedure (including an elective tubal ligation). I finally got to be the (almost) first to hold our brand new baby and I was thrilled! I had felt so crummy all morning and all of it melted away to joy and excitement.
I'm so thankful we had such a fantastic medial team that cared so much and took steps to help us have a more pleasant delivery experience. What a magical moment!
In an effort to try to have as much 'control' (HAHA!) over this delivery as possible, I scheduled a date for a c-section 2 months ahead of her due date. I wanted to pick a day during the week and get it on the books to avoid another last-minute cram in an already established schedule and risk getting a potentially less experienced anesthesiologist. This felt like a great plan until 2 weeks before our date I learned at work that our insurance was changing and I needed to move our scheduled section ahead half a week to ensure I could be out of the hospital before the end of November or be subject to two deductibles when the new plan kicked in at the beginning of December. It was a tense couple of days as we scrambled to change our plans, but we got it worked out.
Monday, November 27th rolled around and I woke up feeling sick to my stomach and light-headed with anxiety. I'd barely slept the night before, even after taking a Unisom to help take the edge off, and just tried to focus on breathing slowly to stay calm. For weeks my fear of the epidural had been increasing, making multiple appearances during my OB appointments, and now I was getting read to stare it down, knowing that it's success or failure would dictate the entire birth experience for all of us.
It was a busy morning on the Labor and Delivery floor, 4-5 other mothers in labor had staff juggling and extended our check-in triage time. I had started to feel a little bit better once I was in a bed and monitored, but soon after a bolus of fluids and the mounting anxiety I started to feel very unwell, chief complaint: lungs hurting as if I'd been swimming for hours. It was bad enough I didn't want to go into the surgery suite, I certainly didn't want to go in feeling sick and worried something was wrong with me.
Waiting felt like an eternity, but it was finally time to go back to the surgery suite. I had to go alone with the nurse, Clif wouldn't be allowed back unless the epidural was successful. I started to cry the moment I walked up to the surgery doors, and kept crying all the way in, up on the table, and as the amazing surgery team started talking me through the procedure. They acknowledged that they had heard about my previous bad experience and outlined a multi-step plan of attack to help ensure I wouldn't have to be put under this time. The nurse who was placing the spinal told me each step she planned to take (starting in one location, moving to a different location if that didn't work, offering a mild sedative in my IV to help me relax, calling in another person to attempt if she couldn't get it placed), in addition to telling me very calmly every single action she was taking through the process. It was very comforting and the man who stood in front of me as my coach was calming and reassuring.
The first entry point she tried in my spine was a no-go. It felt like it was off to one side and was painful. She told me to let her know if it hurt, but I stayed quiet for a short time, thinking some pain was part of the process, until I let her know it was painful. She stopped immediately, they administered some sedative with my approval, and she moved to the second location higher up on my spine. By this time my OB was in the suite with us and coaching me right along with everyone else. He could see, and I could feel, that the second location was going much better as I didn't have the intense pain and didn't feel sensation on one side more than the other. It seemed to be a very smooth entry and I continued crying, but this time with relief. It worked and I could stay awake!
My relief was short-lived. As the team got me positioned on the table I started to feel terrible. Nauseated, light-headed, my vision graying in pulse with the sudden headache that felt like it was going to explode out of the front of my skull. The anesthesiologist had been by to see me during check in and told me I might experience these symptoms as the epidural would lower my blood pressure. He said if I felt like I was going to be sick to just let someone know and they'd give me the IV meds to bring my pressure back up as quickly as possible. It didn't help that my BP had spiked to an uncomfortable height while the epidural was placed, only to have it drop, then be chemically brought back up again. I briefly wished I could go back to having the spinal placed over feeling the effects of the BP roller coaster. Luckily the stabilizing meds actually work as quickly as I was told they would.
As the headache and graying vision subsided and I started to feel normal again, Clif was brought in to join me. As soon as I saw him and realized my dream for this delivery was happening, the tears started again from feeling relieved and elated. Clif held my hand and told me they'd already gotten started on my incision when he was brought in and the delivery was well under way. In a matter of moments Kaileigh was out and taken to be measured and weighed before they brought her back for me to hold while they completed my procedure (including an elective tubal ligation). I finally got to be the (almost) first to hold our brand new baby and I was thrilled! I had felt so crummy all morning and all of it melted away to joy and excitement.
I'm so thankful we had such a fantastic medial team that cared so much and took steps to help us have a more pleasant delivery experience. What a magical moment!
Friday, November 10, 2017
Waiting To Meet You
My dear baby girl,
It's true what they say about subsequent children: there's often plenty of time to document the road of the first born because distractions are limited, but with each additional child life gets a little more crazy and finding time/remembering to document each step of the journey gets more difficult. I've not written much about this pregnancy with you, so I'll try to do a little bit of catch up.
You are already a handful. So loved, so anticipated, but giving me a really hard time! Of course, it doesn't help that I'm older, and this is my 5th time being pregnant in 4-5 years, that's been pretty rough on my body, but you seem to have decided not to make it any easier on me. I've had to take medicine every night to combat all-day-sickness for our duration together, the boys gave up at the end of the third trimester. You will be persistent. I've been more emotional, hormonal, frustrated, stressed, and generally grumpier, this makes me a little concerned for when you reach adolescence and join me on the hormone rollercoaster. The boys might need to invest in a clubhouse in the backyard with your father... but that's ok, I know we will manage.
You've also been much more active than your brothers, or I've forgotten exactly what they felt like. Not only are you a mover and a shaker, but you claim ALL THE SPACE. Between headbutting me in the bladder while simultaneously kicking me under an upper left rib, punching my right waist, and booty tooching just next to my bellybutton, you appear to be determined to use up every bit of real estate you can manage, and are doing a great job. As much as I complain about being incredibly uncomfortable, I LOVE to feel and watch you move. In fact, you move so much and so often that when you aren't having a dance party, I get worried. Allow me to tell you about this Halloween when you decided you were just too tired, or had shifted into a position where I just couldn't feel you as much, certainly not in the same way I was used to. I got so worried and anxious your aunt Judi took me to the hospital so we could monitor you, only to immediately discover you were moving so much they had trouble getting the monitors in place. You were just playing hard to get, and the next day you were back to your usually obviously-active self. Not even born yet and already giving me gray hairs.
It will one day become apparent to all three of you kids that Mama is A Worrier. Just ask your Opa Bullach, this is a genetic thing. It also means that I get stressy, which isn't good for my blood pressure and in turn stresses out the medical professionals seeing us through this pregnancy. Yesterday at our routine OB appointment my blood pressure was running high. A lot of that was because I had only just realized the day before that I needed to change our scheduled delivery date. The one I had chosen nearly two months ago and felt so comfortable, happy, and prepared with. Then, I needed to change it AGAIN because the first change didn't allow enough time for us to get out of the hospital by the end of the month, which is when my current insurance plan ends. Health insurance. This whole debacle, and the reason we will be meeting you sooner than we anticipated is because health insurance is crazy and confusing. And stressful, and now we are back to yesterday and our second visit to Labor and Delivery for monitoring in a week (remember Halloween?). The good news is my blood pressure settled out, which means the problem was just stress and not something really bad, like preeclampsia. The other good news is you did great and are looking just fine, which is always so reassuring. Let's see if we can work together to get us to your new delivery date, deal?
In the meantime, I'm going to hopefully hold up my end of our little bargain by trying to take things a little easier, a big challenge when you have two awesome, rambunctious brothers to juggle. I am semi convinced that all your activity comes from the fact that you can hear them and our family chaos and are just getting yourself ready to keep up, maybe even lead them around by the nose when you're mobile. I know you'll fit right in and I can't wait to see the three of you together and share in the joy you'll create in our home. I know there will also be plenty of craziness and frustration, but it will all be worth it. You, just like your brothers, are so dearly loved already and we can't wait to hold you, smile at you, give you kisses (Toby, for the record, has an excellent head start as for weeks he has been saying your name an emphatically, repeatedly kissing my tummy. I don't think he really understand what your addition will mean, but he seems excited about you and that's awesome).
It's true what they say about subsequent children: there's often plenty of time to document the road of the first born because distractions are limited, but with each additional child life gets a little more crazy and finding time/remembering to document each step of the journey gets more difficult. I've not written much about this pregnancy with you, so I'll try to do a little bit of catch up.
You are already a handful. So loved, so anticipated, but giving me a really hard time! Of course, it doesn't help that I'm older, and this is my 5th time being pregnant in 4-5 years, that's been pretty rough on my body, but you seem to have decided not to make it any easier on me. I've had to take medicine every night to combat all-day-sickness for our duration together, the boys gave up at the end of the third trimester. You will be persistent. I've been more emotional, hormonal, frustrated, stressed, and generally grumpier, this makes me a little concerned for when you reach adolescence and join me on the hormone rollercoaster. The boys might need to invest in a clubhouse in the backyard with your father... but that's ok, I know we will manage.
You've also been much more active than your brothers, or I've forgotten exactly what they felt like. Not only are you a mover and a shaker, but you claim ALL THE SPACE. Between headbutting me in the bladder while simultaneously kicking me under an upper left rib, punching my right waist, and booty tooching just next to my bellybutton, you appear to be determined to use up every bit of real estate you can manage, and are doing a great job. As much as I complain about being incredibly uncomfortable, I LOVE to feel and watch you move. In fact, you move so much and so often that when you aren't having a dance party, I get worried. Allow me to tell you about this Halloween when you decided you were just too tired, or had shifted into a position where I just couldn't feel you as much, certainly not in the same way I was used to. I got so worried and anxious your aunt Judi took me to the hospital so we could monitor you, only to immediately discover you were moving so much they had trouble getting the monitors in place. You were just playing hard to get, and the next day you were back to your usually obviously-active self. Not even born yet and already giving me gray hairs.
It will one day become apparent to all three of you kids that Mama is A Worrier. Just ask your Opa Bullach, this is a genetic thing. It also means that I get stressy, which isn't good for my blood pressure and in turn stresses out the medical professionals seeing us through this pregnancy. Yesterday at our routine OB appointment my blood pressure was running high. A lot of that was because I had only just realized the day before that I needed to change our scheduled delivery date. The one I had chosen nearly two months ago and felt so comfortable, happy, and prepared with. Then, I needed to change it AGAIN because the first change didn't allow enough time for us to get out of the hospital by the end of the month, which is when my current insurance plan ends. Health insurance. This whole debacle, and the reason we will be meeting you sooner than we anticipated is because health insurance is crazy and confusing. And stressful, and now we are back to yesterday and our second visit to Labor and Delivery for monitoring in a week (remember Halloween?). The good news is my blood pressure settled out, which means the problem was just stress and not something really bad, like preeclampsia. The other good news is you did great and are looking just fine, which is always so reassuring. Let's see if we can work together to get us to your new delivery date, deal?
In the meantime, I'm going to hopefully hold up my end of our little bargain by trying to take things a little easier, a big challenge when you have two awesome, rambunctious brothers to juggle. I am semi convinced that all your activity comes from the fact that you can hear them and our family chaos and are just getting yourself ready to keep up, maybe even lead them around by the nose when you're mobile. I know you'll fit right in and I can't wait to see the three of you together and share in the joy you'll create in our home. I know there will also be plenty of craziness and frustration, but it will all be worth it. You, just like your brothers, are so dearly loved already and we can't wait to hold you, smile at you, give you kisses (Toby, for the record, has an excellent head start as for weeks he has been saying your name an emphatically, repeatedly kissing my tummy. I don't think he really understand what your addition will mean, but he seems excited about you and that's awesome).
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
The Name Game
The Story of Flynn Lathan:
Clif and I thought we should be prepared with a boy's name, just in case, as we waited until our sonogram that would tell us if we were having a boy or a girl. In the beginning we really wanted a girl, were scared of the concept of having a boy, and had been prepared with a girl's name for years. Boys names, however, were a big challenge for us and we spent several nights pouring through name websites and lists, trying to find even a few that we both liked.
Flynn was at the top of my list, and had been since high school. I'm fairly sure it took root for me when I heard it in a favorite song one day. I suggested it to Clif, and followed up with Lathan (two friends have this name; one as a middle, the other as a last - I just thought it was nice and unique), and he pretty readily agreed. Little did I know at the time it was really only because he was SO SURE we would have a girl (I was convinced otherwise)...
Sonogram day came and low and behold we find out we are expecting a boy. Clif and I do not do well with secrets or keeping exciting information, at least that is ours to tell. We are notorious, eager sharers and were ready to announce our baby as soon as we found out. The trouble was, now faced with the fact that our first was a he, Clif wasn't so sure about our name selection any more. This broke my heart, as I had been so excited about the name. He wanted to decide quickly! Right then! Announce the gender WITH our chosen name! But I wasn't ready to give up on my dream of having a Flynn quite so fast. I said I needed time to mourn my name and try to open myself back up to other options, but Clif, ever so eager, I suppose wasn't ready for me to adjust my brain and semi-reluctantly agreed with our first choice.
It's pretty funny, looking back, at how silly the whole path was, but now that we have him I couldn't imagine Flynn by any other name, it's perfect!
The Story of Tobias Hunter:
After the drama of Flynn's name, I thought we better be prepared out of the gate for having a second boy and get ahead of choosing a name so we didn't have Drama: Round Two. Truth be told, I was convinced our second would also be a boy just because we had wanted a girl so badly (I was now on Team Boy and ready to have another), and because we struggled so much with boy names.
One evening Clif and I were back to our ritual of pouring over baby name lists, trying to find some that matched. We were more casual about it this time, and had only tossed out a couple of options when I suddenly burst out, "What about Toby?" (admittedly thinking briefly of a favorite childhood movie...). Clif, without skipping a beat with, "How about Tobias"? Perfect, I said! Clif then followed up with Hunter and we both loved it. What a different experience than we had with trying to pick Flynn's name. It was quick, easy, and just clicked into place.
Not long after we had dinner with Clif's parents to share the name we'd picked. After telling them our choice, I remember his mother giving us a thoughtful look. Flynn was a very unique name and they had wondered how we came up with it, I thought maybe they were wondering the same about Tobias. A few days later we saw them again and she exclaimed that she remembered why that name had struck her as so familiar. When they were preparing to bring Clif home they had narrowed their choices down to two names: Clifton and Tobias (which had been selected by her brother). They chose Clifton because it was more universally pronounced, while Tobias had a range of pronunciation variations. Since they traveled internationally so much they thought Clifton was the better option. Clif had never heard that story, which made the name so much more special to us.
The Story of Kaileigh Samara:
Clif and I have had this name chosen since not long after we started dating. In the years we've been together, any time we talked about having children we would day dream about Kaileigh. I can't remember which of us came up with the first name, but I knew I wanted to spell it like that so we could call her Kai. Clif offered Samara, the 'nature name' of a friend of his from college. Samara has several meanings in different cultures, but it is also the name of any winged seedpod, like maple 'helicopters'. We've loved the name for almost a decade and were excited to learn we would be able to use it for our sweet girl.
Clif and I thought we should be prepared with a boy's name, just in case, as we waited until our sonogram that would tell us if we were having a boy or a girl. In the beginning we really wanted a girl, were scared of the concept of having a boy, and had been prepared with a girl's name for years. Boys names, however, were a big challenge for us and we spent several nights pouring through name websites and lists, trying to find even a few that we both liked.
Flynn was at the top of my list, and had been since high school. I'm fairly sure it took root for me when I heard it in a favorite song one day. I suggested it to Clif, and followed up with Lathan (two friends have this name; one as a middle, the other as a last - I just thought it was nice and unique), and he pretty readily agreed. Little did I know at the time it was really only because he was SO SURE we would have a girl (I was convinced otherwise)...
Sonogram day came and low and behold we find out we are expecting a boy. Clif and I do not do well with secrets or keeping exciting information, at least that is ours to tell. We are notorious, eager sharers and were ready to announce our baby as soon as we found out. The trouble was, now faced with the fact that our first was a he, Clif wasn't so sure about our name selection any more. This broke my heart, as I had been so excited about the name. He wanted to decide quickly! Right then! Announce the gender WITH our chosen name! But I wasn't ready to give up on my dream of having a Flynn quite so fast. I said I needed time to mourn my name and try to open myself back up to other options, but Clif, ever so eager, I suppose wasn't ready for me to adjust my brain and semi-reluctantly agreed with our first choice.
It's pretty funny, looking back, at how silly the whole path was, but now that we have him I couldn't imagine Flynn by any other name, it's perfect!
The Story of Tobias Hunter:
After the drama of Flynn's name, I thought we better be prepared out of the gate for having a second boy and get ahead of choosing a name so we didn't have Drama: Round Two. Truth be told, I was convinced our second would also be a boy just because we had wanted a girl so badly (I was now on Team Boy and ready to have another), and because we struggled so much with boy names.
One evening Clif and I were back to our ritual of pouring over baby name lists, trying to find some that matched. We were more casual about it this time, and had only tossed out a couple of options when I suddenly burst out, "What about Toby?" (admittedly thinking briefly of a favorite childhood movie...). Clif, without skipping a beat with, "How about Tobias"? Perfect, I said! Clif then followed up with Hunter and we both loved it. What a different experience than we had with trying to pick Flynn's name. It was quick, easy, and just clicked into place.
Not long after we had dinner with Clif's parents to share the name we'd picked. After telling them our choice, I remember his mother giving us a thoughtful look. Flynn was a very unique name and they had wondered how we came up with it, I thought maybe they were wondering the same about Tobias. A few days later we saw them again and she exclaimed that she remembered why that name had struck her as so familiar. When they were preparing to bring Clif home they had narrowed their choices down to two names: Clifton and Tobias (which had been selected by her brother). They chose Clifton because it was more universally pronounced, while Tobias had a range of pronunciation variations. Since they traveled internationally so much they thought Clifton was the better option. Clif had never heard that story, which made the name so much more special to us.
The Story of Kaileigh Samara:
Clif and I have had this name chosen since not long after we started dating. In the years we've been together, any time we talked about having children we would day dream about Kaileigh. I can't remember which of us came up with the first name, but I knew I wanted to spell it like that so we could call her Kai. Clif offered Samara, the 'nature name' of a friend of his from college. Samara has several meanings in different cultures, but it is also the name of any winged seedpod, like maple 'helicopters'. We've loved the name for almost a decade and were excited to learn we would be able to use it for our sweet girl.
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
Cut Me Some Slack, Muffin
Before we determined the genders, we called Flynn Peanut, Toby was Cheeto (thanks to Dr. Foster), and this little one we're calling Muffin. Muffin, I could stand it if you gave me a little break...
With both boys I had nearly constant morning sickness and was tired for the entirety of the first trimester, but as I got into the second I was able to enjoy the slackening of symptoms. Yesterday marked week 17 of this pregnancy and if anything my symptoms have started to increase again after a week or two of slight relief. I take Unisom nightly to help me fend off the worst of the nausea through the next day, though most days are still a bit of a challenge. My energy hasn't bounced back much and I'm already waddling with ligament stretching, groin pain, and now sciatic flare ups. Woohoo! As an added bonus I just got the confirmation call that the gestational diabetes is back and I immediately get to start my special diet and checking my sugars 4 times a day. This isn't a huge deal, I've done it quite successfully two times before, but it's definitely more work and the pie-in-the-sky dream of "maybe this one will be different" is officially toast. None of these are things I can't deal with, but I feel weary from the consistency of them all at once and it just makes things more challenging. On the upside, my pregnancy app reminds me that soon I should start to feel baby movement, and I'm looking forward to that tremendously!
In the meantime, I am blessed with two incredible boys who are sweet, loving, and radiate joy. Well, for the most part... Flynn excels at pushing Toby's buttons, usually by indicating his interest in a toy Toby has and walking deliberately into his personal space with grabby hands outstretched, snatching intent CLEARLY evident. This, naturally, distresses Toby to no end, but he responds by swatting and hitting at Flynn in defense. Problems all around. Hitting and "mean hands" (including head, feet, body slamming, etc.) are house No No rules and warrant time outs, but Toby is just getting into time outs, so hasn't really gotten the concept yet, and Flynn isn't exactly doing anything WRONG (he's not 'touching'), but needs to learn the finer lesson of not being an instigator. It's a tricky balance, for sure. In the midst of all of that I'm trying to learn not to yell, but it's slow going, especially when I feel so worn out and crummy. Ugh.
Flynn is in full-blown potty training mode, FINALLY, after dragging our feet and a lot of slow, stuttering, false starts. He's, shall we say, strong willed and resistant, which makes for a tricky balance between insisting on getting time on the potty but not making the situation traumatic and undoing what little progress we've already made. I've gotten to the point where his tears can no longer be a deterrent, which makes me scramble for distractions and positive focuses when it's time to try. It's actually going ok, with a few accidents still, but also a few days of staying clean and dry all day. Going #2 continues to be the biggest challenge, but we'll get there. He's gotta have it down so he can go to school in September. No pressure! I know he'll get it in no time.
Toby has started talking up quite a storm, I'm even starting to understand parts of what he's saying. He still calls everyone 'Daddy', even though he absolutely knows how to say 'Mama'. He talks about birds while using the sign language, says please like a seasoned pro, and has started working in small, basic sentences here and there that surprise and delight us to no end. His sweet little voice combined with his wrinkle-nosed grin makes him quite a charmer.
Both boys had their first swim class last week: Flynn in 'Level 1' (basically the basics to getting comfortable in the water and starting to learn skills), and Toby in Mommy and Me with me. Toby seemed to range from feeling apathetic to really enjoying his class, while Flynn rebelled with every ounce of his toddler self and essentially refused to get/stay in the water. Here's hoping he'll warm up to the idea in the next couple of weeks. In the next session I'm planning on switching him to the same day and time as his best buddy to see if having a known friend in the water with him will help. I hope so! The sooner the boys learn to swim, the sooner I can take substantially less gear and anxiety with us to the pool.
Since it's been so long between posts, you'd think I'd have so much more to say. Really time just slips away so fast and I find myself using the excuse I'm enjoying just being in each moment. I don't want Toby or Muffin to feel skimped of posterity blog entries, but I'm also trying to let myself be realistic of how much time and brain power I'll have to log each tiny detail. I'm going to put my focus on the big picture and cataloging moments as I can, and that will be good.
With both boys I had nearly constant morning sickness and was tired for the entirety of the first trimester, but as I got into the second I was able to enjoy the slackening of symptoms. Yesterday marked week 17 of this pregnancy and if anything my symptoms have started to increase again after a week or two of slight relief. I take Unisom nightly to help me fend off the worst of the nausea through the next day, though most days are still a bit of a challenge. My energy hasn't bounced back much and I'm already waddling with ligament stretching, groin pain, and now sciatic flare ups. Woohoo! As an added bonus I just got the confirmation call that the gestational diabetes is back and I immediately get to start my special diet and checking my sugars 4 times a day. This isn't a huge deal, I've done it quite successfully two times before, but it's definitely more work and the pie-in-the-sky dream of "maybe this one will be different" is officially toast. None of these are things I can't deal with, but I feel weary from the consistency of them all at once and it just makes things more challenging. On the upside, my pregnancy app reminds me that soon I should start to feel baby movement, and I'm looking forward to that tremendously!
In the meantime, I am blessed with two incredible boys who are sweet, loving, and radiate joy. Well, for the most part... Flynn excels at pushing Toby's buttons, usually by indicating his interest in a toy Toby has and walking deliberately into his personal space with grabby hands outstretched, snatching intent CLEARLY evident. This, naturally, distresses Toby to no end, but he responds by swatting and hitting at Flynn in defense. Problems all around. Hitting and "mean hands" (including head, feet, body slamming, etc.) are house No No rules and warrant time outs, but Toby is just getting into time outs, so hasn't really gotten the concept yet, and Flynn isn't exactly doing anything WRONG (he's not 'touching'), but needs to learn the finer lesson of not being an instigator. It's a tricky balance, for sure. In the midst of all of that I'm trying to learn not to yell, but it's slow going, especially when I feel so worn out and crummy. Ugh.
Flynn is in full-blown potty training mode, FINALLY, after dragging our feet and a lot of slow, stuttering, false starts. He's, shall we say, strong willed and resistant, which makes for a tricky balance between insisting on getting time on the potty but not making the situation traumatic and undoing what little progress we've already made. I've gotten to the point where his tears can no longer be a deterrent, which makes me scramble for distractions and positive focuses when it's time to try. It's actually going ok, with a few accidents still, but also a few days of staying clean and dry all day. Going #2 continues to be the biggest challenge, but we'll get there. He's gotta have it down so he can go to school in September. No pressure! I know he'll get it in no time.
Toby has started talking up quite a storm, I'm even starting to understand parts of what he's saying. He still calls everyone 'Daddy', even though he absolutely knows how to say 'Mama'. He talks about birds while using the sign language, says please like a seasoned pro, and has started working in small, basic sentences here and there that surprise and delight us to no end. His sweet little voice combined with his wrinkle-nosed grin makes him quite a charmer.
Both boys had their first swim class last week: Flynn in 'Level 1' (basically the basics to getting comfortable in the water and starting to learn skills), and Toby in Mommy and Me with me. Toby seemed to range from feeling apathetic to really enjoying his class, while Flynn rebelled with every ounce of his toddler self and essentially refused to get/stay in the water. Here's hoping he'll warm up to the idea in the next couple of weeks. In the next session I'm planning on switching him to the same day and time as his best buddy to see if having a known friend in the water with him will help. I hope so! The sooner the boys learn to swim, the sooner I can take substantially less gear and anxiety with us to the pool.
Since it's been so long between posts, you'd think I'd have so much more to say. Really time just slips away so fast and I find myself using the excuse I'm enjoying just being in each moment. I don't want Toby or Muffin to feel skimped of posterity blog entries, but I'm also trying to let myself be realistic of how much time and brain power I'll have to log each tiny detail. I'm going to put my focus on the big picture and cataloging moments as I can, and that will be good.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Growing Like Weeds
(I'm posting this incomplete lump of brain dribble that was started in October of 2016 because it's proof I tried to write an update and contains a couple of tiny Toby details I figure one day I'll appreciate having. So, here it is, more complete postings to come...)
It's been a while since I last wrote. I know it doesn't look like it, but the post that just went up was one I started back in March, then got stuck. I'd written too much to scrap the piece but just lost the motivation to finish writing the darn thing. Finally tossed up a summary paragraph and called it good so I could move on. I'm bad at that, just letting go of one task, even if it isn't finished, before moving on to the next. It bothers my selective OCD.
So many things have happened since our March adventure with goats, SO MANY, and both of my boys are growing up way too fast. Toby has 6 teeth with more on the way, he stands on his own (Look, Ma, no hands! - I even got to witness his very first two steps, but I'm the only one who saw it and we have yet to get a repeat performance), crawls like a speed-racer zombie fiend (truly, my boys are strange movers), and is thinking about sleeping through the night (gotta have that midnight snack).
Friday, October 21, 2016
Dye Dye, Goaks!
In May I packed up myself and the boys (no small feat, even for short weekends) and went with Mom and Dad to the 'Yellow House' in Luray. There were some plumbing projects to be done, Clif needed some focus time to work on his book, and we love being there.
The weather for the majority of the last month had been chilly and raining, no less so during this trip, so we had plans to lounge around and take in a viewing or two of Pirates of Penzance, which proved to be an extra effective tool for keeping super-curious and friendly Flynn out of the plumbers' way while they were working. Mom and I chatted with the two men for a bit and through some story telling I felt prompted to look at Luray Facebook pages to see what was out there. I had long ago liked the page for the Caverns, learned that there was a separate page for Luray itself, and saw a page for the Luray Rescue Zoo.
Now, Luray having a zoo was not at all news to me. We pass the sign featuring a tiger for the zoo on our way in to town, and have passed it every single trip for as long as I can remember. We visit the Walmart across the road from the zoo several times whenever we are there, and so are quite familiar with the giant alligator-mouth entrance and dated fiberglass dinosaur that stands sentinel beside the parking lot entrance. I have at least once every season wondered to myself why we had never been to the zoo and sometimes make a mental note to go, maybe on the following trip, but it hadn't happened yet. I think we all thought that a small country zoo would have too much potential for a negative experience of one variety or another to even take the chance, but pulling up the Facebook page changed my mind. Seeing that the Luray Zoo was a rescue zoo helped shift my expectations. To me, rescue efforts are very different than someone trying to open a zoo for the purpose of profit. I was also encouraged by the pictures of enrichment activities provided to the inhabitants, in particular the efforts made to celebrate the birthday of their tiger with special (appropriate) treats. I was intrigued anew.
Since we'd been in the house all day, and Mom needed to stay home with the plumbers, she offered to watch Toby so Flynn and I could have a mama/son date and be the first ones in the family to visit Luray zoo. We were flirting with lunch/nap time, so I was a little bit hesitant, but it turned out to be such a fun adventure.
Flynn was a little bit cautious as he eyeballed the giant alligator mouth that was the front door. I didn't make any deal out of it, simply ignored it was there and walked confidently through, and he followed without a chance to show any more concern. Of course, it helped that we entered directly into a gift shop filled with toys and stuffed animals. I was greeted by one of the owners, bought my ticket (yay for free kids!) and took Flynn's hand as we were pointed through a back door of the gift shop. The owner stood in the doorway and I felt a little bit like Dorothy-not-in-Kansas-anymore from how we were directed to proceed through the zoo then left to our own devices in a strange place.
First we had to navigate two substantially sized reptile room. Tanks were stacked 3-high, almost every one was occupied, and at least 3/4 of the inhabitants were venomous. I walked through slowly, letting Flynn walk at first, then carrying him so he could see the higher tanks. We greeted almost every snake ("Hello, snake!") and while it was incredibly fascinating to see such an impressive collection of varieties of snakes from all over the world, by the middle of the second room I started to feel uneasy and imagined that one could start a horror movie based on being surrounded by so many deadly creatures. I picked up my pace and forced a pause at the end of the room with a huge murky dark water tank at shoulder height to my left (the home a positively huge prehistoric-looking snapping turtle) and in front of us a giant window looking into the hangout for two massive alligators looking directly back at us.
I took a couple of slow, deep breaths to calm my rising nerves then carried Flynn out the back door into the main part of zoo. We stopped to read the rules for expected conduct and I held his hand while we explored the cages. We saw a few varieties of primates, many varieties of birds (parrots, doves, hawks, owl, peacock, condor, kookaburra), a tiger, porcupine, and lemur to name a few. The exhibits had plaques that provided information about the type of animal inside, but many also had plaques with that particular animal's name and their story of how they came to the rescue zoo. I very much enjoyed learning about the animals, both facts about their species, and facts about who they were as individuals.
Flynn and I were the only two humans in the park, so we had ample, uninterrupted time to stroll through the exhibits. As we were closing the loop and nearing the door back into the reptile rooms I noticed 3 small goats walking along the path towards us. I looked around, expecting someone on staff to appear, assuming the goats were being moved from one space to another, but no one else was around. I watched the goats get closer, trying to quickly decide how to handle the situation as Flynn hadn't seen them yet. I decided to just let the moment happen then make a decision based on his reaction. I pointed them out so he wouldn't be too surprised to turn around and find himself surrounded, and he leaned towards me a little bit, but otherwise just watched with mild interest. The goats were more interested in finding vegetation to graze on than us, which made for a pretty much perfect animal-child introduction; neither overwhelmed the other. Seeing that the goats weren't aggressive or overly-affectionate, Flynn and I went on ahead with our exploration, the trio of goats trailing leisurely along behind us.
At the back part of the property is where the petting zoo section was, and there we found all the rest of a good-sized herd of goats, many of which easily jumped the wooden rails to join us in the 'viewing pavilion'. It was here that I read a sign informing visitors not to be concerned if the goats jump the fence and roam, they are very much permitted to do so (this sign might be more helpful up front when first entering the zoo, but hey). Flynn was completely nonplussed at being surrounded by four-legged mouthy creatures, some with horns, and I was thrilled! He talked to them, gave gentle pats, and crouched down to see what they were doing as they nosed the floor for bits of food, I was really impressed by his naturally calm and nonchalant demeanor. My fun, happy-go-lucky guy.
After a few minutes bonding with the goats we said goodbye ("Dye dye, goaks!") and made our way back through the wandering path, offering goodbyes to the rest of the residents. In the gift shop we picked up a couple of goodies to take home as souvenirs, all in all a wonderful Mama/Son date.
I love animals so much and it is my hope to impart that love to my children. So far I think we are on the right track.
The weather for the majority of the last month had been chilly and raining, no less so during this trip, so we had plans to lounge around and take in a viewing or two of Pirates of Penzance, which proved to be an extra effective tool for keeping super-curious and friendly Flynn out of the plumbers' way while they were working. Mom and I chatted with the two men for a bit and through some story telling I felt prompted to look at Luray Facebook pages to see what was out there. I had long ago liked the page for the Caverns, learned that there was a separate page for Luray itself, and saw a page for the Luray Rescue Zoo.
Now, Luray having a zoo was not at all news to me. We pass the sign featuring a tiger for the zoo on our way in to town, and have passed it every single trip for as long as I can remember. We visit the Walmart across the road from the zoo several times whenever we are there, and so are quite familiar with the giant alligator-mouth entrance and dated fiberglass dinosaur that stands sentinel beside the parking lot entrance. I have at least once every season wondered to myself why we had never been to the zoo and sometimes make a mental note to go, maybe on the following trip, but it hadn't happened yet. I think we all thought that a small country zoo would have too much potential for a negative experience of one variety or another to even take the chance, but pulling up the Facebook page changed my mind. Seeing that the Luray Zoo was a rescue zoo helped shift my expectations. To me, rescue efforts are very different than someone trying to open a zoo for the purpose of profit. I was also encouraged by the pictures of enrichment activities provided to the inhabitants, in particular the efforts made to celebrate the birthday of their tiger with special (appropriate) treats. I was intrigued anew.
Since we'd been in the house all day, and Mom needed to stay home with the plumbers, she offered to watch Toby so Flynn and I could have a mama/son date and be the first ones in the family to visit Luray zoo. We were flirting with lunch/nap time, so I was a little bit hesitant, but it turned out to be such a fun adventure.
Flynn was a little bit cautious as he eyeballed the giant alligator mouth that was the front door. I didn't make any deal out of it, simply ignored it was there and walked confidently through, and he followed without a chance to show any more concern. Of course, it helped that we entered directly into a gift shop filled with toys and stuffed animals. I was greeted by one of the owners, bought my ticket (yay for free kids!) and took Flynn's hand as we were pointed through a back door of the gift shop. The owner stood in the doorway and I felt a little bit like Dorothy-not-in-Kansas-anymore from how we were directed to proceed through the zoo then left to our own devices in a strange place.
First we had to navigate two substantially sized reptile room. Tanks were stacked 3-high, almost every one was occupied, and at least 3/4 of the inhabitants were venomous. I walked through slowly, letting Flynn walk at first, then carrying him so he could see the higher tanks. We greeted almost every snake ("Hello, snake!") and while it was incredibly fascinating to see such an impressive collection of varieties of snakes from all over the world, by the middle of the second room I started to feel uneasy and imagined that one could start a horror movie based on being surrounded by so many deadly creatures. I picked up my pace and forced a pause at the end of the room with a huge murky dark water tank at shoulder height to my left (the home a positively huge prehistoric-looking snapping turtle) and in front of us a giant window looking into the hangout for two massive alligators looking directly back at us.
I took a couple of slow, deep breaths to calm my rising nerves then carried Flynn out the back door into the main part of zoo. We stopped to read the rules for expected conduct and I held his hand while we explored the cages. We saw a few varieties of primates, many varieties of birds (parrots, doves, hawks, owl, peacock, condor, kookaburra), a tiger, porcupine, and lemur to name a few. The exhibits had plaques that provided information about the type of animal inside, but many also had plaques with that particular animal's name and their story of how they came to the rescue zoo. I very much enjoyed learning about the animals, both facts about their species, and facts about who they were as individuals.
Flynn and I were the only two humans in the park, so we had ample, uninterrupted time to stroll through the exhibits. As we were closing the loop and nearing the door back into the reptile rooms I noticed 3 small goats walking along the path towards us. I looked around, expecting someone on staff to appear, assuming the goats were being moved from one space to another, but no one else was around. I watched the goats get closer, trying to quickly decide how to handle the situation as Flynn hadn't seen them yet. I decided to just let the moment happen then make a decision based on his reaction. I pointed them out so he wouldn't be too surprised to turn around and find himself surrounded, and he leaned towards me a little bit, but otherwise just watched with mild interest. The goats were more interested in finding vegetation to graze on than us, which made for a pretty much perfect animal-child introduction; neither overwhelmed the other. Seeing that the goats weren't aggressive or overly-affectionate, Flynn and I went on ahead with our exploration, the trio of goats trailing leisurely along behind us.
At the back part of the property is where the petting zoo section was, and there we found all the rest of a good-sized herd of goats, many of which easily jumped the wooden rails to join us in the 'viewing pavilion'. It was here that I read a sign informing visitors not to be concerned if the goats jump the fence and roam, they are very much permitted to do so (this sign might be more helpful up front when first entering the zoo, but hey). Flynn was completely nonplussed at being surrounded by four-legged mouthy creatures, some with horns, and I was thrilled! He talked to them, gave gentle pats, and crouched down to see what they were doing as they nosed the floor for bits of food, I was really impressed by his naturally calm and nonchalant demeanor. My fun, happy-go-lucky guy.
After a few minutes bonding with the goats we said goodbye ("Dye dye, goaks!") and made our way back through the wandering path, offering goodbyes to the rest of the residents. In the gift shop we picked up a couple of goodies to take home as souvenirs, all in all a wonderful Mama/Son date.
I love animals so much and it is my hope to impart that love to my children. So far I think we are on the right track.
Friday, May 20, 2016
Apology Letter to My Second Born
My Dear Toby,
One day (and there will probably be many of them) you will hear lamentations of how the first born child has the most pictures taken, stories written, entries in the baby book while the second born has fewer because time is now divided between children, which leaves less of it to spend on things like journaling. Now, unlike when your father and I were younger, pictures have become so much easier to take, so I'm not concerned about not having as many pictures of you as I do your brother, I've got that area pretty well covered. The writing down of stories and entering milestone dates in a baby book, however, I'm not doing so great at keeping up. The last entry I made in this blog was 5 months ago and it was about your delivery 3 months before that.
So, this is my apology to you for not carving out more time to write about our little discoveries along the way. It would be easy to say it's because we would rather simply 'live in each moment' than spend time with nose pressed to a computer or smart device screen, but the reality is I'm forgetful and I lose track of how quickly time flies. My promise to you is I will always strive to be better about documenting our journey with you and Flynn, but know that I will, sadly probably often, fall a little short.
Let's play a bit of catch up. You, Tobias Hunter, are such an incredible child. Just like your brother you are sweet, gentle, loving, and not just happy, but bursting with joy. You rarely cry and if/when you do it is usually fairly manageable to make you content once again. A friend of mine once described me to someone else as 'shooting laser beams of joy from her eyes', rest assured you inherited that from me. Joy and happiness will be a common theme in stories I write and tell about you because you are the embodiment of those things. I don't think I'll ever run out of ways to express that about you because you seem to never run out of ways to make that fact known. Everyone you meet feels the effects of your joy, most of all your brother, father and me. We could be in the worst of rainy day moods and one flirty-eyed, slobbery grin from you can make us smile and breath a little easier. Thank you for bringing so much MORE sunshine into our family.
Right now, at nearly 8 months old, your favorite things are smiling, tooting (you are one SERIOUSLY gassy child...), eating, laughing, and CHEWING ALL THE THINGS. Seriously, so much chewing, though I suppose that's to be expected when you appear to be trying to cut all of your teeth at once! A couple of weeks ago your very first tooth (lower middle-right [your right], if you really want to know) finally broke gum. I didn't cry like I did when Flynn's came in, though I am still a little sad to be losing your gummy grins. The second time feels a little easier to accept. Two days later your second tooth (lower middle-left) broke through. Two teeth right next to each other at once, you are a determined little dude. Just about two weeks later and I'm pretty positive I can feel the edge of one of your upper teeth. By the way you get fussy here and there, and the fact that pretty soon we will need to invest in a house boat with how much you drool, I wouldn't be surprised if you will be ready for more advanced food explorations before the summer hits.
Your new little mouth-razors are doing a miraculous thing: making me glad we are still using a shield when nursing. I don't think you are biting me, but it wouldn't feel as painful if/when you did. In the last month you have actually nursed for a couple of prolonged periods of time without it, which were glorious, but you quickly reverted to insisting on having it. That proves to me again, just like your brother, you are one strong-willed and opinionated soul. Heaven help us.
You are getting better every day at sitting up by yourself, though not yet without the safety of pillow-ed surroundings or someone sitting behind you for when you lose your balance and try to fall flat on your face. Your balance checks are working more often than not, which is progress, and soon you'll be so stable I'll be able to let you sit and play with Flynn while I try to get some chores done. Not that I'll want to do chores, I'd rather spend time with the two of you, but this house is a wreck and needs some TLC. You are also getting closer to crawling. You enjoy playing on the floor for longer periods of time, have been proficient at rolling from your back to your front for weeks and weeks, and are slowly starting to figure out going the other direction, just the opposite of Flynn. While on your tummy you like to lift all four limbs in the air and kick as if you are trying to swim. It is adorable, you look so determined. You are also starting to push yourself up really high on your fully extended arms and I can see the wheels turning in your head over the concept of getting your knees up under you, tush in the air, the inevitable per-cursor to crawling. You have definitely started to travel, though not with any real intent. Mostly you kind of cruise the path of least resistance: scooting backwards or changing the way you are facing depending on where the most exciting activity in the room is. Usually it's your brother and you could give yourself whiplash with how fast you snap your head around to watch him, wherever he is.
I started this post with the intent of making it ENTIRELY about you, but I've found that is nearly impossible as Flynn simply IS a part of your life. Always has been, always will be. I'm actually kind of thankful that neither of you will be able to remember a time without the other, I think and hope that will add to your brotherly bond. A bond that is already growing so strong. I love the way you watch his every move with sheer wonder and awe. You smile so wide, so bright, and laugh all the way down to your toes when he looks at you. In the past couple of weeks he has started engaging with you in more direct, independent ways and it is wonderful. For a couple of months he's been good at retrieving a toy for you, if we ask, or bringing you a pacifier if our hands are full. He knows when you cry you have a need and has seen us try to fill that need with those things (paci, bottle, toy...) so he would sometimes attempt to offer one of those things when you fussed. Now, thanks in part to your growing mobility, your interactions together are growing, too. Flynn plays peek-a-boo while you laugh and laugh. He kisses you gently (then will turn around and headbutt me). He knows he has to be more careful with you, and though there are times he gets so excited he forgets himself and his proximity to you, those are uncommon moments.
Last night he dragged you in your high chair to a cubbyhole on the bookshelf where he had positioned some of his trucks so you could see them. He narrated to you what they were and, I imagine, explained something along the lines of how they are fun to play with, or the reason why he placed them there (it's anyone's guess, your father and I still don't fully understand everything he says). The point is, he wanted to include you in his activity, engage you, share with you something that he found fun and enjoyable. At one point he walked away, leaving you facing the trucks on the shelf, looking like you'd been placed in time out, but when I pulled your chair back to face me at the dinning table Flynn ran back, loudly proclaiming dissatisfaction that I had the nerve to try to keep you from his beloved toys. This happened several times and you just went along with the whole thing.
Some days I have a moment or two where I find myself thinking how I can't wait until you... are big enough to sit up by yourself so I can walk away for a second, or start crawling so I don't have to carry you everywhere, or pull yourself up and start walking so you and Flynn can play and entertain each other to give me back just a little bit more autonomy. Then I almost immediately regret the wish, try to suck it back in and deny I had any wish other than for you to take your time growing up. I hold you, a LOT, probably much more than I -need- to, though never more than I should. I should (and might argue, need) to hold you as much as I can while you are still small enough to do so. I look at Flynn, at how big and independent he is already, always on the go, and realize that stage just happened so fast. I don't want to miss a single moment of snuggle time with you, knowing that as you get older my chances to hold you for as long as I want will continue to drift away. It doesn't matter that the dishes don't get done or the pet hair collects in little hallway tumble weeds or I can barely find the living room floor through the mess of toys, shoes, and miscellaneous shenanigans. Those things can wait, even if the chaos makes me a little bit bonkers. Playing with Flynn and holding you makes me feel better, and it's far more important than that other stuff. Before we know it you both will be old enough to help with household chores and I can maybe regain at least a little bit of ground on the mess we wade through, but for right now I am content to immerse myself in your slobbery, milk-drunk, gassy grins from the proximity of my encircled arms. I would say you don't have a choice in the matter, but you do. You could scream and fuss or fidget if I tried to hold you too much, but you don't.
So, my sweet second-born, thank you for letting me hold on to you as long as I possibly can. Thank you for being ours.
Love,
Mama (and Flynn and Daddy)
One day (and there will probably be many of them) you will hear lamentations of how the first born child has the most pictures taken, stories written, entries in the baby book while the second born has fewer because time is now divided between children, which leaves less of it to spend on things like journaling. Now, unlike when your father and I were younger, pictures have become so much easier to take, so I'm not concerned about not having as many pictures of you as I do your brother, I've got that area pretty well covered. The writing down of stories and entering milestone dates in a baby book, however, I'm not doing so great at keeping up. The last entry I made in this blog was 5 months ago and it was about your delivery 3 months before that.
So, this is my apology to you for not carving out more time to write about our little discoveries along the way. It would be easy to say it's because we would rather simply 'live in each moment' than spend time with nose pressed to a computer or smart device screen, but the reality is I'm forgetful and I lose track of how quickly time flies. My promise to you is I will always strive to be better about documenting our journey with you and Flynn, but know that I will, sadly probably often, fall a little short.
Let's play a bit of catch up. You, Tobias Hunter, are such an incredible child. Just like your brother you are sweet, gentle, loving, and not just happy, but bursting with joy. You rarely cry and if/when you do it is usually fairly manageable to make you content once again. A friend of mine once described me to someone else as 'shooting laser beams of joy from her eyes', rest assured you inherited that from me. Joy and happiness will be a common theme in stories I write and tell about you because you are the embodiment of those things. I don't think I'll ever run out of ways to express that about you because you seem to never run out of ways to make that fact known. Everyone you meet feels the effects of your joy, most of all your brother, father and me. We could be in the worst of rainy day moods and one flirty-eyed, slobbery grin from you can make us smile and breath a little easier. Thank you for bringing so much MORE sunshine into our family.
Right now, at nearly 8 months old, your favorite things are smiling, tooting (you are one SERIOUSLY gassy child...), eating, laughing, and CHEWING ALL THE THINGS. Seriously, so much chewing, though I suppose that's to be expected when you appear to be trying to cut all of your teeth at once! A couple of weeks ago your very first tooth (lower middle-right [your right], if you really want to know) finally broke gum. I didn't cry like I did when Flynn's came in, though I am still a little sad to be losing your gummy grins. The second time feels a little easier to accept. Two days later your second tooth (lower middle-left) broke through. Two teeth right next to each other at once, you are a determined little dude. Just about two weeks later and I'm pretty positive I can feel the edge of one of your upper teeth. By the way you get fussy here and there, and the fact that pretty soon we will need to invest in a house boat with how much you drool, I wouldn't be surprised if you will be ready for more advanced food explorations before the summer hits.
Your new little mouth-razors are doing a miraculous thing: making me glad we are still using a shield when nursing. I don't think you are biting me, but it wouldn't feel as painful if/when you did. In the last month you have actually nursed for a couple of prolonged periods of time without it, which were glorious, but you quickly reverted to insisting on having it. That proves to me again, just like your brother, you are one strong-willed and opinionated soul. Heaven help us.
You are getting better every day at sitting up by yourself, though not yet without the safety of pillow-ed surroundings or someone sitting behind you for when you lose your balance and try to fall flat on your face. Your balance checks are working more often than not, which is progress, and soon you'll be so stable I'll be able to let you sit and play with Flynn while I try to get some chores done. Not that I'll want to do chores, I'd rather spend time with the two of you, but this house is a wreck and needs some TLC. You are also getting closer to crawling. You enjoy playing on the floor for longer periods of time, have been proficient at rolling from your back to your front for weeks and weeks, and are slowly starting to figure out going the other direction, just the opposite of Flynn. While on your tummy you like to lift all four limbs in the air and kick as if you are trying to swim. It is adorable, you look so determined. You are also starting to push yourself up really high on your fully extended arms and I can see the wheels turning in your head over the concept of getting your knees up under you, tush in the air, the inevitable per-cursor to crawling. You have definitely started to travel, though not with any real intent. Mostly you kind of cruise the path of least resistance: scooting backwards or changing the way you are facing depending on where the most exciting activity in the room is. Usually it's your brother and you could give yourself whiplash with how fast you snap your head around to watch him, wherever he is.
I started this post with the intent of making it ENTIRELY about you, but I've found that is nearly impossible as Flynn simply IS a part of your life. Always has been, always will be. I'm actually kind of thankful that neither of you will be able to remember a time without the other, I think and hope that will add to your brotherly bond. A bond that is already growing so strong. I love the way you watch his every move with sheer wonder and awe. You smile so wide, so bright, and laugh all the way down to your toes when he looks at you. In the past couple of weeks he has started engaging with you in more direct, independent ways and it is wonderful. For a couple of months he's been good at retrieving a toy for you, if we ask, or bringing you a pacifier if our hands are full. He knows when you cry you have a need and has seen us try to fill that need with those things (paci, bottle, toy...) so he would sometimes attempt to offer one of those things when you fussed. Now, thanks in part to your growing mobility, your interactions together are growing, too. Flynn plays peek-a-boo while you laugh and laugh. He kisses you gently (then will turn around and headbutt me). He knows he has to be more careful with you, and though there are times he gets so excited he forgets himself and his proximity to you, those are uncommon moments.
Last night he dragged you in your high chair to a cubbyhole on the bookshelf where he had positioned some of his trucks so you could see them. He narrated to you what they were and, I imagine, explained something along the lines of how they are fun to play with, or the reason why he placed them there (it's anyone's guess, your father and I still don't fully understand everything he says). The point is, he wanted to include you in his activity, engage you, share with you something that he found fun and enjoyable. At one point he walked away, leaving you facing the trucks on the shelf, looking like you'd been placed in time out, but when I pulled your chair back to face me at the dinning table Flynn ran back, loudly proclaiming dissatisfaction that I had the nerve to try to keep you from his beloved toys. This happened several times and you just went along with the whole thing.
Some days I have a moment or two where I find myself thinking how I can't wait until you... are big enough to sit up by yourself so I can walk away for a second, or start crawling so I don't have to carry you everywhere, or pull yourself up and start walking so you and Flynn can play and entertain each other to give me back just a little bit more autonomy. Then I almost immediately regret the wish, try to suck it back in and deny I had any wish other than for you to take your time growing up. I hold you, a LOT, probably much more than I -need- to, though never more than I should. I should (and might argue, need) to hold you as much as I can while you are still small enough to do so. I look at Flynn, at how big and independent he is already, always on the go, and realize that stage just happened so fast. I don't want to miss a single moment of snuggle time with you, knowing that as you get older my chances to hold you for as long as I want will continue to drift away. It doesn't matter that the dishes don't get done or the pet hair collects in little hallway tumble weeds or I can barely find the living room floor through the mess of toys, shoes, and miscellaneous shenanigans. Those things can wait, even if the chaos makes me a little bit bonkers. Playing with Flynn and holding you makes me feel better, and it's far more important than that other stuff. Before we know it you both will be old enough to help with household chores and I can maybe regain at least a little bit of ground on the mess we wade through, but for right now I am content to immerse myself in your slobbery, milk-drunk, gassy grins from the proximity of my encircled arms. I would say you don't have a choice in the matter, but you do. You could scream and fuss or fidget if I tried to hold you too much, but you don't.
So, my sweet second-born, thank you for letting me hold on to you as long as I possibly can. Thank you for being ours.
Love,
Mama (and Flynn and Daddy)
Thursday, January 14, 2016
The Story of Tobias Hunter
I've been suffering from the second child syndrome, the one where there are fewer pictures/posts of the new addition because life gets twice as crazy. Only 3 months late, but here's a much-needed information dump:
Some avid fans of the Divergent young adult novel trilogy might hear the name of the fourth member of our family and think we were one of them. While I have read, and enjoyed, the books, I did so well after we had our name chosen, so Toby sharing the name of one of the main characters (who's nickname happens to be Four) wasn't our inspiration, just coincidence. Clif and I have had a name chosen for a girl for most of the time we've been together, but boy names were much harder for us, so it figured we'd have two boys. Luckily Toby's name came much quicker and easier for us and suits him perfectly.
Even though my pregnancy with Toby was much smoother than with Flynn, at one of my last check-up appointments our OB, Dr. Foster, thought it would be a wise idea to go ahead and schedule a c-section to deliver Toby due to some elevated blood pressures. We were at full term and we wouldn't be taking any risks of my blood pressure going haywire and causing any real problems. The appointment was on a Thursday and by the time it was over we were scheduled to deliver that upcoming Sunday. I went in to work for a few hours Friday morning so I could wrap up my work for my maternity leave then returned home for a day and a half of bed rest.
Mom came to watch Flynn and Clif and I headed over to the Birthing Inn to check in before the sun came up on Sunday, September 27th. The L&D floor was fairly quiet, even more so since I was one of only two mothers who were scheduled for a section on a Sunday, a fairly uncommon occurrence. Judi arrived to keep us company and provide some greatly-appreciated moral support while we waited for things to get rolling and time to head to the surgical suite. I walked down the hall with the nurse to have the epidural placed, and once prepped on the table they would bring Clif back to join me. In theory...
The surgical staff was very friendly and kind, but I was not prepared for the horrific experience the next 20 minutes proved to be. In order to place the epidural, I was positioned sitting on the edge of the surgery table and directed to hunch forward as far as I could (difficult with a giant belly), and push my spine back towards the anesthesiologist. If you can't envision it just know that this is an awkward position to try to get into and hold BEFORE someone starts poking you with a giant hollow needle. As he rooted around in my spine trying to get placed he hit nerves that not only sent shooting, searing pain through my whole body, it make my hips twitch involuntarily and straighten, which in turn compromised the precise position I was supposed to sit in. I clutched the arms of the nurse in front of me, eventually unable to hold back my sobbing from the pain and discomfort. All I could think of was how badly I wanted it to be over, how I didn't know if I could sit still another second, how I knew I had to remain perfectly still... and then the anesthesiologist said he was going to try placing it again, which meant removing what he'd already tried and bracing to endure more agony. Finally they had me lay back on the table to finish prepping for surgery, but I could feel everything the everyone was doing. Could feel the cold anesthetic through the line in my back, the pin-prick tingling in my legs and feet, didn't notice any significant loss of feeling, and I was worried. They tested the epidural by poking me lightly with a sharp object and I felt it clearly, told them I felt like my legs were waking up after having been asleep. More anesthetics were administered, but I still felt the test pokes. Finally the anesthesiologist stood over my head and apologized that he would have to knock me out 'like last time'. All I could say was I wasn't knocked out last time, the epidural had worked, then started crying all over again knowing I wouldn't be able to have the one thing I had hoped for this time: the chance to hold Toby right at delivery. Certainly health and safety of him and myself was the most important factor, always, but I didn't get to hold Flynn at delivery, either, and I really wanted that immediate bonding experience. The anesthesiologist told me to take 5 deep breaths, the first 3 felt normal but the fourth tasted funny and I'm not even sure if I got the fifth one in before I was out cold.
I suddenly heard someone call my name and tell me 'he's here'. I fought against the dark fogginess, knowing who 'he' was and wanting so desperately to wake up and see him. I blinked my eyes fast and hard, trying to clear my head enough to focus. I was in the recovery room and Clif stood next to me holding Toby. I cried when I saw him, thought he was so beautiful and was flooded with happiness that he was here. I was able to hold him then and the events of the morning melted away. I have to be completely honest, I'm still disappointed the epidural didn't work, and probably always will be a little bit, but at least everyone was well and there weren't any emergencies.
The next couple of days in the hospital were less stressful than the scary first few as a first-time parent. Our nursing staff was excellent and we had plenty of visitors to keep us company. I had moments of feeling like maybe I was in more pain after this second section and spent the first day and a half wondering if I'd ever be able to get out of bed again, but I was up and walking the halls by the second day of recovery. The nurses took Toby to the nursery at night so I could get some uninterrupted sleep for a couple of nights, but I was thankful to get discharged and back to the comforts of home.
Nursing was going very similarly to how it went with Flynn with some latching challenges, but I wasn't stressed about them like I had been before. If using a nipple shield meant Toby could nurse successfully, then I decided I'd have no issue using it, even if it did add an extra layer of complication. We've been using it all along, and it can be tedious at times, but we are nursing almost exclusively, without having to juggle making bottles and crazy pumping schedules, so Toby's care has felt much more streamlined, less stressful. Three and a half months in and I'm finally getting off the couch more often, for longer periods, to be able to play with Flynn or do some chores. The first couple of months I was barely able to get up to go to the bathroom as Toby's nursing schedule was constant. While I did have some moments of frustration at feeling pretty useless at being able to do anything but nurse, it was great practice in learning how to put less important things aside and relish the bonding time.
We changed pediatricians before Flynn was 6 months old and I wish so much we had found Dr. Bill (our current pediatrician) first. His relaxed demeanor and readiness to look at each child as a whole, rather than just some number on a chart, has made a world of difference in our early months with Toby. Toby, like Flynn, is small and a slow weight gainer. He lost 10% of his body weight at the hospital and we were right on the verge of having to introduce some supplementation, but Dr. Bill let us ride the fence and together we watched Toby carefully to make sure he at least maintained weight. It took him a little bit longer than the preferred 2-week post-delivery bounce back, but sure enough he got back to his birth weight and has been gaining consistently since. He's lower on the growth chart (but at least on it), has a blocked right tear duct we are working through, and signs of torticollis we do exercises for, but otherwise meeting all of his milestones, healthy, and happy.
Time flies so fast, everyone says that, but it's hard to imagine what that means until you experience it first hand. Toby is already almost 4 months old, I feel like he just joined us yesterday. I'm blessed to have been able to take 2 additional months of maternity leave, but what felt like such a long time at first is already more than half over and my return to work is looming on the horizon. I love my job, I just love being able to be with my boys more. This extra time has given me the chance to watch more of Toby's developments that I missed with Flynn. He smiles often and so easily, is starting to laugh and test his voice. He's learning to hold a rattle, starting to roll on his side, and even fell over to his back out of tummy time on his own. Every day he's growing, I'm thrilled to be able to watch so much of it.
We are truly fortunate in our lives. Clif and I are living so many of our dreams and we get to do it with two absolutely amazing boys. Flynn loves Toby, it's a joy to watch him hug, kiss, and talk about his little brother. I know they will have plenty of challenging times ahead, but they will also have so much love. As I write this, with my sweet little baby sleeping in my lap, I wonder how we have been so blessed.
Some avid fans of the Divergent young adult novel trilogy might hear the name of the fourth member of our family and think we were one of them. While I have read, and enjoyed, the books, I did so well after we had our name chosen, so Toby sharing the name of one of the main characters (who's nickname happens to be Four) wasn't our inspiration, just coincidence. Clif and I have had a name chosen for a girl for most of the time we've been together, but boy names were much harder for us, so it figured we'd have two boys. Luckily Toby's name came much quicker and easier for us and suits him perfectly.
Even though my pregnancy with Toby was much smoother than with Flynn, at one of my last check-up appointments our OB, Dr. Foster, thought it would be a wise idea to go ahead and schedule a c-section to deliver Toby due to some elevated blood pressures. We were at full term and we wouldn't be taking any risks of my blood pressure going haywire and causing any real problems. The appointment was on a Thursday and by the time it was over we were scheduled to deliver that upcoming Sunday. I went in to work for a few hours Friday morning so I could wrap up my work for my maternity leave then returned home for a day and a half of bed rest.
Mom came to watch Flynn and Clif and I headed over to the Birthing Inn to check in before the sun came up on Sunday, September 27th. The L&D floor was fairly quiet, even more so since I was one of only two mothers who were scheduled for a section on a Sunday, a fairly uncommon occurrence. Judi arrived to keep us company and provide some greatly-appreciated moral support while we waited for things to get rolling and time to head to the surgical suite. I walked down the hall with the nurse to have the epidural placed, and once prepped on the table they would bring Clif back to join me. In theory...
The surgical staff was very friendly and kind, but I was not prepared for the horrific experience the next 20 minutes proved to be. In order to place the epidural, I was positioned sitting on the edge of the surgery table and directed to hunch forward as far as I could (difficult with a giant belly), and push my spine back towards the anesthesiologist. If you can't envision it just know that this is an awkward position to try to get into and hold BEFORE someone starts poking you with a giant hollow needle. As he rooted around in my spine trying to get placed he hit nerves that not only sent shooting, searing pain through my whole body, it make my hips twitch involuntarily and straighten, which in turn compromised the precise position I was supposed to sit in. I clutched the arms of the nurse in front of me, eventually unable to hold back my sobbing from the pain and discomfort. All I could think of was how badly I wanted it to be over, how I didn't know if I could sit still another second, how I knew I had to remain perfectly still... and then the anesthesiologist said he was going to try placing it again, which meant removing what he'd already tried and bracing to endure more agony. Finally they had me lay back on the table to finish prepping for surgery, but I could feel everything the everyone was doing. Could feel the cold anesthetic through the line in my back, the pin-prick tingling in my legs and feet, didn't notice any significant loss of feeling, and I was worried. They tested the epidural by poking me lightly with a sharp object and I felt it clearly, told them I felt like my legs were waking up after having been asleep. More anesthetics were administered, but I still felt the test pokes. Finally the anesthesiologist stood over my head and apologized that he would have to knock me out 'like last time'. All I could say was I wasn't knocked out last time, the epidural had worked, then started crying all over again knowing I wouldn't be able to have the one thing I had hoped for this time: the chance to hold Toby right at delivery. Certainly health and safety of him and myself was the most important factor, always, but I didn't get to hold Flynn at delivery, either, and I really wanted that immediate bonding experience. The anesthesiologist told me to take 5 deep breaths, the first 3 felt normal but the fourth tasted funny and I'm not even sure if I got the fifth one in before I was out cold.
I suddenly heard someone call my name and tell me 'he's here'. I fought against the dark fogginess, knowing who 'he' was and wanting so desperately to wake up and see him. I blinked my eyes fast and hard, trying to clear my head enough to focus. I was in the recovery room and Clif stood next to me holding Toby. I cried when I saw him, thought he was so beautiful and was flooded with happiness that he was here. I was able to hold him then and the events of the morning melted away. I have to be completely honest, I'm still disappointed the epidural didn't work, and probably always will be a little bit, but at least everyone was well and there weren't any emergencies.
The next couple of days in the hospital were less stressful than the scary first few as a first-time parent. Our nursing staff was excellent and we had plenty of visitors to keep us company. I had moments of feeling like maybe I was in more pain after this second section and spent the first day and a half wondering if I'd ever be able to get out of bed again, but I was up and walking the halls by the second day of recovery. The nurses took Toby to the nursery at night so I could get some uninterrupted sleep for a couple of nights, but I was thankful to get discharged and back to the comforts of home.
Nursing was going very similarly to how it went with Flynn with some latching challenges, but I wasn't stressed about them like I had been before. If using a nipple shield meant Toby could nurse successfully, then I decided I'd have no issue using it, even if it did add an extra layer of complication. We've been using it all along, and it can be tedious at times, but we are nursing almost exclusively, without having to juggle making bottles and crazy pumping schedules, so Toby's care has felt much more streamlined, less stressful. Three and a half months in and I'm finally getting off the couch more often, for longer periods, to be able to play with Flynn or do some chores. The first couple of months I was barely able to get up to go to the bathroom as Toby's nursing schedule was constant. While I did have some moments of frustration at feeling pretty useless at being able to do anything but nurse, it was great practice in learning how to put less important things aside and relish the bonding time.
We changed pediatricians before Flynn was 6 months old and I wish so much we had found Dr. Bill (our current pediatrician) first. His relaxed demeanor and readiness to look at each child as a whole, rather than just some number on a chart, has made a world of difference in our early months with Toby. Toby, like Flynn, is small and a slow weight gainer. He lost 10% of his body weight at the hospital and we were right on the verge of having to introduce some supplementation, but Dr. Bill let us ride the fence and together we watched Toby carefully to make sure he at least maintained weight. It took him a little bit longer than the preferred 2-week post-delivery bounce back, but sure enough he got back to his birth weight and has been gaining consistently since. He's lower on the growth chart (but at least on it), has a blocked right tear duct we are working through, and signs of torticollis we do exercises for, but otherwise meeting all of his milestones, healthy, and happy.
Time flies so fast, everyone says that, but it's hard to imagine what that means until you experience it first hand. Toby is already almost 4 months old, I feel like he just joined us yesterday. I'm blessed to have been able to take 2 additional months of maternity leave, but what felt like such a long time at first is already more than half over and my return to work is looming on the horizon. I love my job, I just love being able to be with my boys more. This extra time has given me the chance to watch more of Toby's developments that I missed with Flynn. He smiles often and so easily, is starting to laugh and test his voice. He's learning to hold a rattle, starting to roll on his side, and even fell over to his back out of tummy time on his own. Every day he's growing, I'm thrilled to be able to watch so much of it.
We are truly fortunate in our lives. Clif and I are living so many of our dreams and we get to do it with two absolutely amazing boys. Flynn loves Toby, it's a joy to watch him hug, kiss, and talk about his little brother. I know they will have plenty of challenging times ahead, but they will also have so much love. As I write this, with my sweet little baby sleeping in my lap, I wonder how we have been so blessed.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Beach Baby
Clif and I took Flynn on our first ever vacation together at the end of August, not just as a family unit of three (plus one pending), but the first time the two of us had been away without additional family and friends. We didn't even have a honeymoon.
Usually about two times a year the stress from Clif working his own business gets to a point where he is desperate for a break away from the madness. I'd love to be able to indulge, but vacations have always been, to me, a luxury that we usually can't comfortably afford, or at least couldn't without me feeling stress and guilt that those funds should be utilized elsewhere, like a savings account. This time, however, Clif's stress peaked while we were both under the additional strain of being under several HUGE and costly home improvement projects, as well as having the second baby on the way. I figured it was time to bite the bullet and conceded to a break, even if it was a quick jog to the nearest beach for a 3-day weekend.
Our plan was for me to go to work early so I could leave early so we could hit the road before rush hour traffic got too out of control. Should have figured our plans would hit several road blocks, starting with Flynn waking up sick to his stomach. I called out of work so I could help take care of Flynn while Clif tried to get a little extra sleep, hoping it was just an upset tummy and our little guy would feel better so we could go on our trip. For a few hours it was looking questionable that we would make it and would be out the cost of our vacation without the benefit of enjoying it. Luckily somewhere around lunch time Flynn seemed to be back to his usual self and had kept down food and water, so we felt we were back on track, at least for the most part. The day before at my OB appointment I had a little blood pressure spike which prompted the doctor to order a full blood panel and 24-hour collection. I told him we were leaving for the beach the next day, which concerned him a bit, but we were able to juggle the hours just enough to fit in the lab work and still let us make it for our trip. That meant I needed to drop off my 24-hour collection on our way out of town, but while I was in the office Thursday they went ahead and drew blood for the panel to hopefully save me some time. Road block #2: the lab couldn't/wouldn't accept the previous draw from my doctor's office and I spent almost an hour getting checked in and processed so they could draw another set of tubes to run. So much for a quick drop-off...
We managed to get on the road pretty close to the time we had originally ball-parked, to me a minor miracle. Traffic was terrible, naturally, and a multi-lane closure on Rt 50 just before the Bay Bridge due to an accident, and a much-needed dinner stop on Kent Island all contributed to a nearly 5 hour trip out of town to Ocean City, MD. We arrived at our hotel around 9:00 at night, worn out and raw from the long drive (Flynn had been darn near perfect for the ride).
As we got closer to the beach, my excitement about the weekend had grown, I was sure we were going to have such a great time! Until we got to our hotel room... the hotel's website was misleading, confusing, and the suite we thought we had booked turned out to be a single room with two beds and no separate room to set up Flynn's pack-n-play to hopefully help him sleep (he's a professional at refusing sleep when we are away from home). On top of that there were loud late-night beach goers and hotel neighbors sharing weed on their deck (luckily neither thing affected us when we were IN our hotel room, just the balcony), which turned out to be the straw that broke Clif's camel's back. He was exhausted, stressed, furious and ready to immediately re-pack the car to go home. I didn't have much reserve in my tank, either, so I tasked myself with trying to handle Flynn and get Clif to just get in bed and get some rest. Finally, around 12:30 am, Flynn passed out and Clif and I were mere moments behind him. Sometime close to 4:30 or 5, Flynn woke up crying, obviously disoriented and still exhausted, so I scooped him up and took him to bed with me. He, much to my joy and amazement, settled right in and we went back to bed for several more hours. Flynn is an incredibly independent sleeper, so I relished this being the second, maybe third time I was able to doze off with him next to me.
The light of the next day (and much needed rest) made things look a little less dismal and we decided we were determined to turn our weekend around. We had a delicious omelet and crepe breakfast from the Bayside Skillet, with leftovers enough to cover our breakfast for the next two days. Before lunch we ventured down to the beach and spent an hour or so introducing Flynn to the ocean, playing in the surf. I dare say I think he really loved it, even though learning how to adjust his balance for the coming and going of waves was challenging for all of us. Having Flynn near the water had been my biggest anxiety going into the weekend and I was relieved it went so well (and, honestly, to get it overwith).
After our beach excursion there was lunch and quiet time, where Flynn was supposed to have been worn out enough to take a nap, but Mama passed out instead. We all got up and dressed for a dry evening and headed down to our end of the boardwalk to take a walk before dinner. Our hotel was located at the exact end of the boardwalk, where most of the real estate is residential and it's quiet. Not too far down, though, we came across a kitschy beach-gear shop and walked through. Flynn discovered some toy cars on the shelf under the cash register, so he made himself at home on the floor to play. I gave him a minute or two then said we needed to put the trucks back and go for dinner, which sparked a tidal wave of distress. Not a precedent I intend to set for all situations in the future, but with the lack of sleep I knew he was running on, and the fact I needed to do whatever I needed to to try to keep all of us sane, we bought the truck. I had never seen Flynn take to a toy as passionately as he did to this silly white Hummer car with doors that open and close. Usually after a minute or two with a toy he will throw it and move on to something new, but not this one. He drove it, hugged it, and carried it in a vice grip the entire way back to the hotel, both when he was walking and riding on Clif's shoulders. He played with it all during dinner and snuggled with it when he conked out, exhausted, in the car seat afterwards as we made our way to the "action" end of the boardwalk.
Did I mention Flynn was tired? We parked between two amusement parks, each blaring their own bass-heavy sound systems, and pulled him out of his car seat like he was a rag doll. Usually, even when he's tired and napping, he wakes up when we open the car door, if not when the car turns off, but this time he didn't even bat an eye and stayed sound asleep on Clif's shoulder, another first for all of us. We walked a little ways up the boardwalk through the crowd (not too bad), found a seat on one of the benches overlooking the beach and pier amusement park and just enjoyed the time relaxing, people watching, and Flynn marveling/snuggling. On our way back to the car we treated ourselves to dessert before heading back to the hotel for a blissfully early night to bed, which went much better than the night before.
On Sunday we stayed low-key with breakfast leftovers, some Sunsations window shopping, a very brief trip to the FREEZING cold hotel pool, reheated leftovers for lunch, more quiet time and a fantastic dinner at a fun, quirky pirate-themed restaurant with great food. The highlight of the day for me was family portraits at the Olde Timey photo place. That had been my singular, driven goal since we decided on a beach trip and I would have been broken hearted if we hadn't made it happen. A couple of things made it a very successful experience for us: 1) it was Sunday before Labor Day and most people were heading home. 2) we visited in the late morning when most other people were at the beach or doing other activities (I've found these photo places get hopping in the evenings). 3) Since we had the timing right, we had the place to ourselves which meant practically every employee in there was free to help us as well as Flynn. He even had someone dedicated to wrangling his costume hat. Though getting one of these pictures was my primary mission on this trip, I had been anxious about getting it done without any major issues or meltdowns. The employees made it fast, easy and fun.
On Monday morning we packed the car, checked out of the hotel and took one more drive down to the boardwalk where we discovered a delicious coffee shop that we will be sure to revisit on future beach trips. We took a little stroll on the boardwalk before the rain came in and stopped at a Candy Kitchen for some fudge and salt water taffy then headed home. Despite a rocky start to the adventure, we ended up having a wonderful time on our first family vacation.
Usually about two times a year the stress from Clif working his own business gets to a point where he is desperate for a break away from the madness. I'd love to be able to indulge, but vacations have always been, to me, a luxury that we usually can't comfortably afford, or at least couldn't without me feeling stress and guilt that those funds should be utilized elsewhere, like a savings account. This time, however, Clif's stress peaked while we were both under the additional strain of being under several HUGE and costly home improvement projects, as well as having the second baby on the way. I figured it was time to bite the bullet and conceded to a break, even if it was a quick jog to the nearest beach for a 3-day weekend.
Our plan was for me to go to work early so I could leave early so we could hit the road before rush hour traffic got too out of control. Should have figured our plans would hit several road blocks, starting with Flynn waking up sick to his stomach. I called out of work so I could help take care of Flynn while Clif tried to get a little extra sleep, hoping it was just an upset tummy and our little guy would feel better so we could go on our trip. For a few hours it was looking questionable that we would make it and would be out the cost of our vacation without the benefit of enjoying it. Luckily somewhere around lunch time Flynn seemed to be back to his usual self and had kept down food and water, so we felt we were back on track, at least for the most part. The day before at my OB appointment I had a little blood pressure spike which prompted the doctor to order a full blood panel and 24-hour collection. I told him we were leaving for the beach the next day, which concerned him a bit, but we were able to juggle the hours just enough to fit in the lab work and still let us make it for our trip. That meant I needed to drop off my 24-hour collection on our way out of town, but while I was in the office Thursday they went ahead and drew blood for the panel to hopefully save me some time. Road block #2: the lab couldn't/wouldn't accept the previous draw from my doctor's office and I spent almost an hour getting checked in and processed so they could draw another set of tubes to run. So much for a quick drop-off...
We managed to get on the road pretty close to the time we had originally ball-parked, to me a minor miracle. Traffic was terrible, naturally, and a multi-lane closure on Rt 50 just before the Bay Bridge due to an accident, and a much-needed dinner stop on Kent Island all contributed to a nearly 5 hour trip out of town to Ocean City, MD. We arrived at our hotel around 9:00 at night, worn out and raw from the long drive (Flynn had been darn near perfect for the ride).
As we got closer to the beach, my excitement about the weekend had grown, I was sure we were going to have such a great time! Until we got to our hotel room... the hotel's website was misleading, confusing, and the suite we thought we had booked turned out to be a single room with two beds and no separate room to set up Flynn's pack-n-play to hopefully help him sleep (he's a professional at refusing sleep when we are away from home). On top of that there were loud late-night beach goers and hotel neighbors sharing weed on their deck (luckily neither thing affected us when we were IN our hotel room, just the balcony), which turned out to be the straw that broke Clif's camel's back. He was exhausted, stressed, furious and ready to immediately re-pack the car to go home. I didn't have much reserve in my tank, either, so I tasked myself with trying to handle Flynn and get Clif to just get in bed and get some rest. Finally, around 12:30 am, Flynn passed out and Clif and I were mere moments behind him. Sometime close to 4:30 or 5, Flynn woke up crying, obviously disoriented and still exhausted, so I scooped him up and took him to bed with me. He, much to my joy and amazement, settled right in and we went back to bed for several more hours. Flynn is an incredibly independent sleeper, so I relished this being the second, maybe third time I was able to doze off with him next to me.
The light of the next day (and much needed rest) made things look a little less dismal and we decided we were determined to turn our weekend around. We had a delicious omelet and crepe breakfast from the Bayside Skillet, with leftovers enough to cover our breakfast for the next two days. Before lunch we ventured down to the beach and spent an hour or so introducing Flynn to the ocean, playing in the surf. I dare say I think he really loved it, even though learning how to adjust his balance for the coming and going of waves was challenging for all of us. Having Flynn near the water had been my biggest anxiety going into the weekend and I was relieved it went so well (and, honestly, to get it overwith).
After our beach excursion there was lunch and quiet time, where Flynn was supposed to have been worn out enough to take a nap, but Mama passed out instead. We all got up and dressed for a dry evening and headed down to our end of the boardwalk to take a walk before dinner. Our hotel was located at the exact end of the boardwalk, where most of the real estate is residential and it's quiet. Not too far down, though, we came across a kitschy beach-gear shop and walked through. Flynn discovered some toy cars on the shelf under the cash register, so he made himself at home on the floor to play. I gave him a minute or two then said we needed to put the trucks back and go for dinner, which sparked a tidal wave of distress. Not a precedent I intend to set for all situations in the future, but with the lack of sleep I knew he was running on, and the fact I needed to do whatever I needed to to try to keep all of us sane, we bought the truck. I had never seen Flynn take to a toy as passionately as he did to this silly white Hummer car with doors that open and close. Usually after a minute or two with a toy he will throw it and move on to something new, but not this one. He drove it, hugged it, and carried it in a vice grip the entire way back to the hotel, both when he was walking and riding on Clif's shoulders. He played with it all during dinner and snuggled with it when he conked out, exhausted, in the car seat afterwards as we made our way to the "action" end of the boardwalk.
Did I mention Flynn was tired? We parked between two amusement parks, each blaring their own bass-heavy sound systems, and pulled him out of his car seat like he was a rag doll. Usually, even when he's tired and napping, he wakes up when we open the car door, if not when the car turns off, but this time he didn't even bat an eye and stayed sound asleep on Clif's shoulder, another first for all of us. We walked a little ways up the boardwalk through the crowd (not too bad), found a seat on one of the benches overlooking the beach and pier amusement park and just enjoyed the time relaxing, people watching, and Flynn marveling/snuggling. On our way back to the car we treated ourselves to dessert before heading back to the hotel for a blissfully early night to bed, which went much better than the night before.
On Sunday we stayed low-key with breakfast leftovers, some Sunsations window shopping, a very brief trip to the FREEZING cold hotel pool, reheated leftovers for lunch, more quiet time and a fantastic dinner at a fun, quirky pirate-themed restaurant with great food. The highlight of the day for me was family portraits at the Olde Timey photo place. That had been my singular, driven goal since we decided on a beach trip and I would have been broken hearted if we hadn't made it happen. A couple of things made it a very successful experience for us: 1) it was Sunday before Labor Day and most people were heading home. 2) we visited in the late morning when most other people were at the beach or doing other activities (I've found these photo places get hopping in the evenings). 3) Since we had the timing right, we had the place to ourselves which meant practically every employee in there was free to help us as well as Flynn. He even had someone dedicated to wrangling his costume hat. Though getting one of these pictures was my primary mission on this trip, I had been anxious about getting it done without any major issues or meltdowns. The employees made it fast, easy and fun.
On Monday morning we packed the car, checked out of the hotel and took one more drive down to the boardwalk where we discovered a delicious coffee shop that we will be sure to revisit on future beach trips. We took a little stroll on the boardwalk before the rain came in and stopped at a Candy Kitchen for some fudge and salt water taffy then headed home. Despite a rocky start to the adventure, we ended up having a wonderful time on our first family vacation.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
The Second Third Trimester
Cheeto isn't even here yet and I'm already slacking at keeping a record of the progress of this pregnancy. As noted in the last post, the past several months have been a whirlwind, and while some things have turned around, we've had more bad luck to work our way through, too. It keeps us tough, keeps us working hard, keeps us soundly on the tips of our toes.
Quick update about Flynn: I have never known a better child. I know that sounds so cliche and partial, and of course it is, but I think it also has a healthy dose of truth. He is happy, friendly, easy going, sweet, loving, and so much fun, I often wonder how we have been so blessed. I know there will be rough days in our future, but I hope he keeps those qualities as he grows. The down side is it doesn't help my poor time allocation skills. Though my fluctuating hormones certainly have something to do with it, I've found myself struggling, especially the past few weeks, with finding good balance in my day-to-day. I wake up, work (either at the office or on house chores), try to work in the feeding of mouths (Flynn's first, and let me tell you how much I dread mealtime with him, only because I feel I fail at providing enough well-balanced and varied options, then mine but only if I have enough energy), attempt to integrate chores with quality play time, go through Flynn's bedtime routine, then usually barely make it into bed, myself. I have been finding it hard to juggle all of the things I feel I need to do as a working mother and spouse (poor Clif...) and still have time to do something just for me (play a game, read a book, catch up on guilty pleasure tv shows). I wonder if it would be easier to juggle if Flynn weren't so wonderful, so I'd have the desire or need to get a break from him. Instead I force myself to split attention between him and the mountain of things that need always need to be finished and feel guilty for not giving him all of my time, then feeling worn down when I don't allow myself to charge my batteries. One of these days I'll find a better balance, I hope.
As for Cheeto, this pregnancy has been going great. Which worries me... If the challenging pregnancy with Flynn produced such an easy kid, I shudder to think of the reverse situation! Having been through the experience once already, though, I don't feel the same vague detachment and lack of bonding I did with Flynn. I smile and put my hand on my belly or chuckle and make a comment when Cheeto is awake and boisterous, kicking and rolling around like a gymnast. I have something more tangible to relate the experience to and it allows for a very different perspective, which is exciting. I have lost/maintained my weight, which is still crazy (go figure the only time I can lose weight is when I'm pregnant...), my gestational diabetes is being diet controlled, and my blood pressure has actually been darn near perfect at my OB appointments, which is incredible. If we keep going at this rate I may be able to stay out of bed and go into labor, a very exciting prospect.
In other news we are facing a lot more changes around the corner. Next week we will begin demolition in our basement apartment in preparation for a renovation to get it ready for a new renter, hopefully as soon as possible. We really don't know what we could be getting into with this project, and won't know until the reno is done, which is a scary unknown. What we DO know is by choosing to take on this much-needed update we will increase our rental perspectives. Our plan is to rent until we can purchase a new van for the growing family and repay the amount it will cost to complete the project, ballparking around the next 5-7 years. We are also looking at refinancing the mortgage to a lower rate to help increase some of the speed with which we can reach this goal.
I am also working on trying to re-jump start my supplemental income as a direct sales consultant. Being able to work a side job like that is a very big challenge on top of my 9-5 job and the other demands at home, but building this foundation will help me provide supplemental income for the whole family. It will also help absorb some of the burden that will come from my pending maternity leave, which I have without pay. I'm excited to have joined a company that I believe in and offers beautiful products, but business and sales is not a natural strength of mine, something I have to really work on and practice. I am hopeful, however, that I will be able to learn some new skills, and work towards continuing to support our family when one of our primary means of income will be put on hold for several months.
Quick update about Flynn: I have never known a better child. I know that sounds so cliche and partial, and of course it is, but I think it also has a healthy dose of truth. He is happy, friendly, easy going, sweet, loving, and so much fun, I often wonder how we have been so blessed. I know there will be rough days in our future, but I hope he keeps those qualities as he grows. The down side is it doesn't help my poor time allocation skills. Though my fluctuating hormones certainly have something to do with it, I've found myself struggling, especially the past few weeks, with finding good balance in my day-to-day. I wake up, work (either at the office or on house chores), try to work in the feeding of mouths (Flynn's first, and let me tell you how much I dread mealtime with him, only because I feel I fail at providing enough well-balanced and varied options, then mine but only if I have enough energy), attempt to integrate chores with quality play time, go through Flynn's bedtime routine, then usually barely make it into bed, myself. I have been finding it hard to juggle all of the things I feel I need to do as a working mother and spouse (poor Clif...) and still have time to do something just for me (play a game, read a book, catch up on guilty pleasure tv shows). I wonder if it would be easier to juggle if Flynn weren't so wonderful, so I'd have the desire or need to get a break from him. Instead I force myself to split attention between him and the mountain of things that need always need to be finished and feel guilty for not giving him all of my time, then feeling worn down when I don't allow myself to charge my batteries. One of these days I'll find a better balance, I hope.
As for Cheeto, this pregnancy has been going great. Which worries me... If the challenging pregnancy with Flynn produced such an easy kid, I shudder to think of the reverse situation! Having been through the experience once already, though, I don't feel the same vague detachment and lack of bonding I did with Flynn. I smile and put my hand on my belly or chuckle and make a comment when Cheeto is awake and boisterous, kicking and rolling around like a gymnast. I have something more tangible to relate the experience to and it allows for a very different perspective, which is exciting. I have lost/maintained my weight, which is still crazy (go figure the only time I can lose weight is when I'm pregnant...), my gestational diabetes is being diet controlled, and my blood pressure has actually been darn near perfect at my OB appointments, which is incredible. If we keep going at this rate I may be able to stay out of bed and go into labor, a very exciting prospect.
In other news we are facing a lot more changes around the corner. Next week we will begin demolition in our basement apartment in preparation for a renovation to get it ready for a new renter, hopefully as soon as possible. We really don't know what we could be getting into with this project, and won't know until the reno is done, which is a scary unknown. What we DO know is by choosing to take on this much-needed update we will increase our rental perspectives. Our plan is to rent until we can purchase a new van for the growing family and repay the amount it will cost to complete the project, ballparking around the next 5-7 years. We are also looking at refinancing the mortgage to a lower rate to help increase some of the speed with which we can reach this goal.
I am also working on trying to re-jump start my supplemental income as a direct sales consultant. Being able to work a side job like that is a very big challenge on top of my 9-5 job and the other demands at home, but building this foundation will help me provide supplemental income for the whole family. It will also help absorb some of the burden that will come from my pending maternity leave, which I have without pay. I'm excited to have joined a company that I believe in and offers beautiful products, but business and sales is not a natural strength of mine, something I have to really work on and practice. I am hopeful, however, that I will be able to learn some new skills, and work towards continuing to support our family when one of our primary means of income will be put on hold for several months.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Because, Of Course
April and May were not the kindest months for us and so far June is not shaping up to be much better (though I'm stubbornly hopeful for a turnaround). It all started with a bank of upper kitchen cabinets coming away from the wall......
Obviously, a fairly concerning safety hazard that needed to be repaired sooner rather than later. We emptied the cabinets, their contents relocating to various surfaces around the dinning and living rooms, while we decided what to do. We started with thinking we could just have them fixed, but learned that their basic construction was not done correctly and a fix would have to include some creative Macguyvering to work. While that would have been the cheapest option available, it wasn't ideal and may have only bought us a bit more time. We started to consider what it would cost to replace the cabinets correctly, which then became a discussion involving dreams we had to fix several issues in our kitchen. Hey, if we were going to have someone come give us an opinion and estimate, we might as well ask them about our other wishes.
Soon we realized it didn't seem logical or effective to try to match one set of cabinets to the rest, and the other wishes we had were really bigger problems than we'd let ourselves realize. We had to rip out a pantry to be able to move our fridge to make room for an upstairs laundry unit. That meant all of our pantry items took up every upper cabinet we had, one of which only opened half way into the stove hood and was incredibly difficult to use, much less effectively. Pantry items in the cabinets meant dish wear needed a home, so we bought an open shelving unit that worked wonderfully until we had Flynn and realized there was no way to baby-proof our kitchen, so his living space in our house became drastically reduced. All of these issues snowballed into one terrifying decision: we were going to gut and redo the entire kitchen.
I admit, I had a hard time with the decision at first, it would be the second largest purchase I'd ever made in my life, second to the house. It was nerve wracking, but I knew we were making a good decision for the right reasons and the way we lived in our house would change for the better. I realize that sounds a little bit silly and drastic, but it's true. We never could have dreamed what we would find once the demo started, though, nor could we have anticipated the pile of other frustrations and heart-aches that came on the heels of this choice. Deciding to do something about those upper cabinets felt like pulling the pin on a grenade.
Kitchen demo revealed:
- horribly wrong and unsafe wiring (bundles stripped and taped together without junction boxes in several locations, including the wall behind the sink and dishwasher).
- stove vent hood venting into the ceiling, where it singed the wood framing and melted insulation and wiring. We were unknowingly holding our breath until the house caught fire.
- 4-6 inches of 5 different styles of flooring, including carpet and a second sub-floor, that had to be removed with an industrial crow bar, purchased on the spot because the usual tools weren't cutting it. This was a safety choice as with that much floor there were step-up thresholds in both doors to the kitchen that almost everyone tripped over, I was always worried someone would really hurt themselves.
- one corner of the ceiling was held up by nothing but the mechanic of being propped on top of the joining corners of drywall.
- the extra couple of inches we thought we could get out of the ceiling height turned into many when we learned the construction was designed for the ceiling to have a vault. Cabinet order needed to be stopped and corrected.
Kitchen rebuilding:
- electrician was delayed and had to complete electrical clean-up and rewiring in 2-3 days over the course of the week. The first day was clean up that knocked out power to our outside dining room wall that was housing our temporary kitchen (microwave, toaster oven, etc.), so we were without our full kitchen as well as the temporary for a week.
- drywall finishers were delayed several days.
- cabinets were delayed and had to be reordered (see ceiling surprise in demo reveal).
- new appliance delivery date pushed back 3 times over the course of a week.
- quick, unprepared-for work in the basement resulted in angering of tenants and over a week's worth of egg-shell walking and apologies to try to smooth things over.
- half of new floor installed only to find some of the boxes have tiles that are different sizes. Floor is ripped up and boxes returned for new ones. Second install reveals that the issue was not those 4 boxes of tile but that the manufacturer is lousy and can't make uniform tiles to save their lives. 5 different sizes of tile are installed carefully with great intent to try to accommodate for and make up size variances.
- extra cost decisions were made under the guise that this kitchen has to be safe, it has to be right, and we might as well get what we want because we will NOT be doing this again.
- trouble getting the electrician and painters back in to finish work, delay project at least another week.
- 2 week projected project snowballs into at least 8 weeks without a kitchen, life upended, possibly counting depending on how the next week goes.
At the end of the day we really love our contractors and they are doing great work. No one could have anticipated the issues we've had up to this point, they are trying to do the best they can with what they discover and the end product will be so worth all the upheaval and frustration.
In the meantime...
- discovered second round of gestational diabetes, on top of already existing pregnancy restrictions, making eating right incredibly difficult. Not to mention stressful, which isn't great for managing high blood pressure.
- new-as-of-February water heater craps out 3 times, resulting in two separate weeks without hot water and an epic battle to try to get it permanently and properly fixed.
- 2 friends have passed away suddenly and very unexpectedly in April and May.
- at least 2 friends are fighting cancer.
- 2 arrests are made on our street, one for "inappropriate relations with a minor while in supervisory role" (this is a neighbor across the street and personal acquaintance of Clif from years ago), the other a drug dealer who notoriously uses our street for his escape path.
- high frustrations and tensions lead to strain in a variety of personal relationships and result in the need for apologies, clean ups, and damage control because our patience and Ability To Deal is wearing thin and unintentionally leaking into other aspects of our lives.
- buy new ties for car on a Friday, Saturday the transmission gives out resulting in a HUGE amount of money to be paid for fixing. Opt for a re manufactured transmission with warranty which comes in and installed with a leak. Leak fixed but still making noise so car stays another week for a second transmission to be ordered and shipped. Depriving parents of one of their vehicles for just over 2 weeks, which is usually no pressure, except they are having car trouble of their own.
- questionable substance issues swiftly leads to us being blind sided and surprised at landing in a position where we need to pull together more money to fix up our basement apartment to be rented to a new tenant. Hurt, anger, and some bitterness is involved. Plans for an extended maternity leave and reduced stress first year with two children in jeopardy if we don't make it happen.
I haven't been keeping a running tally, like I meant to, of the issues we have been struggling through the past two months, so I'm sure I've forgotten something in the midst of everything else, but I think you get the gist.
I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads, that our house isn't under water, that we have the ability to make these changes in our home (even if that ability comes with a bit of discomfort), and that even through it all we live a fortunate life. These things I remind myself. Every. Singe. Day.
Despite our blessings, I'm still human and flawed. I'm stressed, frustrated, sad, hurt, feeling judged and looked down on, too scared to ask for help for fear of behind-back whisperings and shaking of heads at the situation we got ourselves into. This has been hard, for Clif who has to live through this construction zone while taking care of Flynn, and for me who just doesn't usually deal well with stress and is trying to take care of everyone else. We are doing the best we can, but we are having a hard time. I feel like I'm on the edge of complete and utter panic and not sure how to keep from falling over. We are making the best choices we can and trying to do what's right for our family, but I'm struggling. I'm uncertain. I'm second-guessing and then second-guessing my second-guessing.
Just looking for the silver lining, hope it's around here somewhere.
Obviously, a fairly concerning safety hazard that needed to be repaired sooner rather than later. We emptied the cabinets, their contents relocating to various surfaces around the dinning and living rooms, while we decided what to do. We started with thinking we could just have them fixed, but learned that their basic construction was not done correctly and a fix would have to include some creative Macguyvering to work. While that would have been the cheapest option available, it wasn't ideal and may have only bought us a bit more time. We started to consider what it would cost to replace the cabinets correctly, which then became a discussion involving dreams we had to fix several issues in our kitchen. Hey, if we were going to have someone come give us an opinion and estimate, we might as well ask them about our other wishes.
Soon we realized it didn't seem logical or effective to try to match one set of cabinets to the rest, and the other wishes we had were really bigger problems than we'd let ourselves realize. We had to rip out a pantry to be able to move our fridge to make room for an upstairs laundry unit. That meant all of our pantry items took up every upper cabinet we had, one of which only opened half way into the stove hood and was incredibly difficult to use, much less effectively. Pantry items in the cabinets meant dish wear needed a home, so we bought an open shelving unit that worked wonderfully until we had Flynn and realized there was no way to baby-proof our kitchen, so his living space in our house became drastically reduced. All of these issues snowballed into one terrifying decision: we were going to gut and redo the entire kitchen.
I admit, I had a hard time with the decision at first, it would be the second largest purchase I'd ever made in my life, second to the house. It was nerve wracking, but I knew we were making a good decision for the right reasons and the way we lived in our house would change for the better. I realize that sounds a little bit silly and drastic, but it's true. We never could have dreamed what we would find once the demo started, though, nor could we have anticipated the pile of other frustrations and heart-aches that came on the heels of this choice. Deciding to do something about those upper cabinets felt like pulling the pin on a grenade.
Kitchen demo revealed:
- horribly wrong and unsafe wiring (bundles stripped and taped together without junction boxes in several locations, including the wall behind the sink and dishwasher).
- stove vent hood venting into the ceiling, where it singed the wood framing and melted insulation and wiring. We were unknowingly holding our breath until the house caught fire.
- 4-6 inches of 5 different styles of flooring, including carpet and a second sub-floor, that had to be removed with an industrial crow bar, purchased on the spot because the usual tools weren't cutting it. This was a safety choice as with that much floor there were step-up thresholds in both doors to the kitchen that almost everyone tripped over, I was always worried someone would really hurt themselves.
- one corner of the ceiling was held up by nothing but the mechanic of being propped on top of the joining corners of drywall.
- the extra couple of inches we thought we could get out of the ceiling height turned into many when we learned the construction was designed for the ceiling to have a vault. Cabinet order needed to be stopped and corrected.
Kitchen rebuilding:
- electrician was delayed and had to complete electrical clean-up and rewiring in 2-3 days over the course of the week. The first day was clean up that knocked out power to our outside dining room wall that was housing our temporary kitchen (microwave, toaster oven, etc.), so we were without our full kitchen as well as the temporary for a week.
- drywall finishers were delayed several days.
- cabinets were delayed and had to be reordered (see ceiling surprise in demo reveal).
- new appliance delivery date pushed back 3 times over the course of a week.
- quick, unprepared-for work in the basement resulted in angering of tenants and over a week's worth of egg-shell walking and apologies to try to smooth things over.
- half of new floor installed only to find some of the boxes have tiles that are different sizes. Floor is ripped up and boxes returned for new ones. Second install reveals that the issue was not those 4 boxes of tile but that the manufacturer is lousy and can't make uniform tiles to save their lives. 5 different sizes of tile are installed carefully with great intent to try to accommodate for and make up size variances.
- extra cost decisions were made under the guise that this kitchen has to be safe, it has to be right, and we might as well get what we want because we will NOT be doing this again.
- trouble getting the electrician and painters back in to finish work, delay project at least another week.
- 2 week projected project snowballs into at least 8 weeks without a kitchen, life upended, possibly counting depending on how the next week goes.
At the end of the day we really love our contractors and they are doing great work. No one could have anticipated the issues we've had up to this point, they are trying to do the best they can with what they discover and the end product will be so worth all the upheaval and frustration.
In the meantime...
- discovered second round of gestational diabetes, on top of already existing pregnancy restrictions, making eating right incredibly difficult. Not to mention stressful, which isn't great for managing high blood pressure.
- new-as-of-February water heater craps out 3 times, resulting in two separate weeks without hot water and an epic battle to try to get it permanently and properly fixed.
- 2 friends have passed away suddenly and very unexpectedly in April and May.
- at least 2 friends are fighting cancer.
- 2 arrests are made on our street, one for "inappropriate relations with a minor while in supervisory role" (this is a neighbor across the street and personal acquaintance of Clif from years ago), the other a drug dealer who notoriously uses our street for his escape path.
- high frustrations and tensions lead to strain in a variety of personal relationships and result in the need for apologies, clean ups, and damage control because our patience and Ability To Deal is wearing thin and unintentionally leaking into other aspects of our lives.
- buy new ties for car on a Friday, Saturday the transmission gives out resulting in a HUGE amount of money to be paid for fixing. Opt for a re manufactured transmission with warranty which comes in and installed with a leak. Leak fixed but still making noise so car stays another week for a second transmission to be ordered and shipped. Depriving parents of one of their vehicles for just over 2 weeks, which is usually no pressure, except they are having car trouble of their own.
- questionable substance issues swiftly leads to us being blind sided and surprised at landing in a position where we need to pull together more money to fix up our basement apartment to be rented to a new tenant. Hurt, anger, and some bitterness is involved. Plans for an extended maternity leave and reduced stress first year with two children in jeopardy if we don't make it happen.
I haven't been keeping a running tally, like I meant to, of the issues we have been struggling through the past two months, so I'm sure I've forgotten something in the midst of everything else, but I think you get the gist.
I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads, that our house isn't under water, that we have the ability to make these changes in our home (even if that ability comes with a bit of discomfort), and that even through it all we live a fortunate life. These things I remind myself. Every. Singe. Day.
Despite our blessings, I'm still human and flawed. I'm stressed, frustrated, sad, hurt, feeling judged and looked down on, too scared to ask for help for fear of behind-back whisperings and shaking of heads at the situation we got ourselves into. This has been hard, for Clif who has to live through this construction zone while taking care of Flynn, and for me who just doesn't usually deal well with stress and is trying to take care of everyone else. We are doing the best we can, but we are having a hard time. I feel like I'm on the edge of complete and utter panic and not sure how to keep from falling over. We are making the best choices we can and trying to do what's right for our family, but I'm struggling. I'm uncertain. I'm second-guessing and then second-guessing my second-guessing.
Just looking for the silver lining, hope it's around here somewhere.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Castleman Cubed Plus One
This post won't be published until several weeks after it was written to allow us to struggle through the first trimester, but since we've taken another giant step into our adventurous future, I wanted to keep track of some of the details of the moment.
Energy: severely lacking. So tired. All the time. Aaaalllllllllll the time...
Nausea: A nearly-constant frienemy
Weight: back to pre-first baby weight (not good), dreading the fight against potential gain
Aversions: fragrance of most varieties
Things that make me cry: really sad or really happy news stories and videos like this - https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10153008303469927
or this - https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10153575376100299&fref=nf
Food Cravings:
Dominos Greek salad
Everything bagels with plain cream cheese and sliced fresh tomatoes
Pimento filled green olives
Blueberry muffins
Stuffing
Campbells soup (chicken and stars, minestrone, vegetable)
Deviled eggs
Chicken nuggets
Popcorn shrimp
Strawberry shortcake
Coke
Food No-Gos:
Dominos Greek salad
Chicken breast
Crackers
The mere existence of Ranch mashed cauliflower leftovers that sounded like such a great idea when I made them the night before
Energy: severely lacking. So tired. All the time. Aaaalllllllllll the time...
Nausea: A nearly-constant frienemy
Weight: back to pre-first baby weight (not good), dreading the fight against potential gain
Aversions: fragrance of most varieties
Things that make me cry: really sad or really happy news stories and videos like this - https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10153008303469927
or this - https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10153575376100299&fref=nf
Food Cravings:
Dominos Greek salad
Everything bagels with plain cream cheese and sliced fresh tomatoes
Pimento filled green olives
Blueberry muffins
Stuffing
Campbells soup (chicken and stars, minestrone, vegetable)
Deviled eggs
Chicken nuggets
Popcorn shrimp
Strawberry shortcake
Coke
Food No-Gos:
Dominos Greek salad
Chicken breast
Crackers
The mere existence of Ranch mashed cauliflower leftovers that sounded like such a great idea when I made them the night before
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Holiday Unwind
As the holiday dust settles and we ease into the, for me, hardest part of the year (post-holiday AND seasonal blues with hardly a snowflake in sight), I finally have the chance to reflect on our Christmas and New Year's.
I'm sure you can guess, but we had an absolutely outstanding holiday. Every year we are blessed to get to share the season with our friends and family, surrounded by loved ones, and every year it gets a little bit better. This year was my favorite to date because we got to add Flynn to the mix. As expected, he was more interested in the wrapping paper and boxes than the gifts, but little dude scored some pretty great toys to help pique his educational, musical and chewing interests.
One of my personal parenting goals has been to try not to flood Flynn with a million toys. So far I think we are doing a fairly decent job of keeping the potential mountain to a minimum, and I'm really proud of that fact. Several months ago I bought him a couple of small developmental toys, just so he had SOMETHING more stimulating than a rattle to help inspire his brain while we waited for Christmas. I managed to keep his big gift from Clif and myself, an adorable stuffed rocking moose that has crinkly antlers, squeaky ears and plays 4 different songs about colors, numbers, letters and the awesomeness of rocking, a secret from Flynn AND Clif. Again, knowing Flynn would most likely be ambivalent to the actual gift, I was so excited about it I kept it from Clif so I had at least one person who would be excited about opening it. We plopped Flynn in the saddle and snapped pictures of his bemused bewilderment, surrounded by his encouraging cousins. He still has a ways to go until he can fully engage with his rocker solo, but it's still one of my personal favorites.
Also in the epic Christmas haul were incredible baby booties by Zutano. I had heard about and seen these suckers in action not too long after Flynn was born, but forgot about them until Clif's parents gave us a pair with an adorable new outfit. They are designed to Stay On Always, and aside from less than half a dozen instances where Flynn was caught up in a blanket or his car seat and managed to get them off because of violent and aggressive foot action, they have done just that. We have almost abandoned baby socks and shoes entirely in favor of these things and bought a second pair. They are a touch on the pricey side but worth EVERY penny and are getting added to my baby must-have list. Clif's parents also gave Flynn an adorable set of percussion instruments that are stored inside a clear drum. Each instrument has a letter/insect, are neutral in color scheme, make great sounds that aren't too loud or piercing and tactile stimulating. Other favorites include a drive-and-learn toy (that horn honking is almost irresistible) and several other goodies.
One of my favorite parts of the day, though (and there were many!), was when we made a stop at the Loudoun Birthing Inn for a special delivery. I had decided several months ago that I would take scarves I'd knit as gifts to the nursing staff who had to work on Christmas. I packed up a bunch of them and took Flynn and my mother-in-law on our way to our family dinner. When we arrived I asked the receptionist if she could tell me how many nurses were on the floor, and if she could find out if any of them recognized my name. She remembered me and went in the back to see who was available. Several minutes later she came back grinning, told me they had literally just been talking about me and how last year they came to my room to sing me Christmas carols, and that they would be up front in a minute. The receptionist went back again, and when she returned she had her phone in front of her, I could tell immediately that she was taking a video. Right behind her came the 4 nurses on shift, singing a Christmas carol for us. What a special, sentimental treat! I recognized all 4 nurses and we passed around hugs and joy. I handed off their scarves and some extras for the mothers who were also on the floor. They then sent up Dr. J-C, the one who we first met on that fateful early December day when I felt so steamrolled, upset and overwhelmed, so much so they admitted me to Labor and Delivery for observation that kicked off the whole bed-rest saga. Clif and I love Dr. J-C and it seemed perfect that she was the one working so we could show her how well Flynn and Mommy were doing. She got a scarf, too, and soon we were back on the road to our next stop.
Gifts are nice, but the best present was all of the love, joy and memories that were created on our fabulous Christmas with so many people we love. I know Flynn won't remember it, but I look forward to getting to share the story of his first Christmas with him one day.
Oh, and New Year's? It was lovely, low key, spent in PJs loafing around the house and ended in some bubbly, a kiss from Clif, a fingertip kiss for Flynn, and watching snippets of neighborhood fireworks through the trees from the driveway. In other words, perfection.
I'm sure you can guess, but we had an absolutely outstanding holiday. Every year we are blessed to get to share the season with our friends and family, surrounded by loved ones, and every year it gets a little bit better. This year was my favorite to date because we got to add Flynn to the mix. As expected, he was more interested in the wrapping paper and boxes than the gifts, but little dude scored some pretty great toys to help pique his educational, musical and chewing interests.
One of my personal parenting goals has been to try not to flood Flynn with a million toys. So far I think we are doing a fairly decent job of keeping the potential mountain to a minimum, and I'm really proud of that fact. Several months ago I bought him a couple of small developmental toys, just so he had SOMETHING more stimulating than a rattle to help inspire his brain while we waited for Christmas. I managed to keep his big gift from Clif and myself, an adorable stuffed rocking moose that has crinkly antlers, squeaky ears and plays 4 different songs about colors, numbers, letters and the awesomeness of rocking, a secret from Flynn AND Clif. Again, knowing Flynn would most likely be ambivalent to the actual gift, I was so excited about it I kept it from Clif so I had at least one person who would be excited about opening it. We plopped Flynn in the saddle and snapped pictures of his bemused bewilderment, surrounded by his encouraging cousins. He still has a ways to go until he can fully engage with his rocker solo, but it's still one of my personal favorites.
Also in the epic Christmas haul were incredible baby booties by Zutano. I had heard about and seen these suckers in action not too long after Flynn was born, but forgot about them until Clif's parents gave us a pair with an adorable new outfit. They are designed to Stay On Always, and aside from less than half a dozen instances where Flynn was caught up in a blanket or his car seat and managed to get them off because of violent and aggressive foot action, they have done just that. We have almost abandoned baby socks and shoes entirely in favor of these things and bought a second pair. They are a touch on the pricey side but worth EVERY penny and are getting added to my baby must-have list. Clif's parents also gave Flynn an adorable set of percussion instruments that are stored inside a clear drum. Each instrument has a letter/insect, are neutral in color scheme, make great sounds that aren't too loud or piercing and tactile stimulating. Other favorites include a drive-and-learn toy (that horn honking is almost irresistible) and several other goodies.
One of my favorite parts of the day, though (and there were many!), was when we made a stop at the Loudoun Birthing Inn for a special delivery. I had decided several months ago that I would take scarves I'd knit as gifts to the nursing staff who had to work on Christmas. I packed up a bunch of them and took Flynn and my mother-in-law on our way to our family dinner. When we arrived I asked the receptionist if she could tell me how many nurses were on the floor, and if she could find out if any of them recognized my name. She remembered me and went in the back to see who was available. Several minutes later she came back grinning, told me they had literally just been talking about me and how last year they came to my room to sing me Christmas carols, and that they would be up front in a minute. The receptionist went back again, and when she returned she had her phone in front of her, I could tell immediately that she was taking a video. Right behind her came the 4 nurses on shift, singing a Christmas carol for us. What a special, sentimental treat! I recognized all 4 nurses and we passed around hugs and joy. I handed off their scarves and some extras for the mothers who were also on the floor. They then sent up Dr. J-C, the one who we first met on that fateful early December day when I felt so steamrolled, upset and overwhelmed, so much so they admitted me to Labor and Delivery for observation that kicked off the whole bed-rest saga. Clif and I love Dr. J-C and it seemed perfect that she was the one working so we could show her how well Flynn and Mommy were doing. She got a scarf, too, and soon we were back on the road to our next stop.
Gifts are nice, but the best present was all of the love, joy and memories that were created on our fabulous Christmas with so many people we love. I know Flynn won't remember it, but I look forward to getting to share the story of his first Christmas with him one day.
Oh, and New Year's? It was lovely, low key, spent in PJs loafing around the house and ended in some bubbly, a kiss from Clif, a fingertip kiss for Flynn, and watching snippets of neighborhood fireworks through the trees from the driveway. In other words, perfection.
Friday, December 19, 2014
It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas
Wow, I'm really terrible at this regular blog update thing.
Christmas is in a week. It's hard to believe, and more than a little terrifying, how fast time flies. I remember how long the month of December felt when I was younger. Thanksgiving would come and go and it still felt like an eternity until Christmas day. I actually didn't mind, my favorite part about Christmas is the build up to it: the music, decorating, festive outfits, holiday movies viewed in PJs with mugs of hot chocolate. I love Christmas day, but there's a hint of sadness as the day slips by. All too soon it is over and the entire year looms until it comes around again.
I've noticed, as I've gotten older, my love of the Christmas build up and dread of the letdown when it's over have increased 10-fold. I've almost adopted a method of self-preservation by not getting as excited about it as I was when I was younger (not even a kid, just younger). It certainly doesn't help that holidays, and life in general, is just different when you are an adult. The holiday stress you knew your parents felt, but didn't make sense to you, all of a sudden is stark and real. Traffic sucks, people are grumpy, and if you haven't saved some PTO you still have to go to work. Luckily I save as much of PTO for the end of year as possible, so I'll have a nice break at home.
For the first time in several years my anticipation of Christmas day has ramped to child-like heights. I blame that on a few things: 1) Clif and I have both been working on generating supplemental incomes for our family, which means that our savings can grow, but we also have a little bit extra to have a bigger Christmas than we usually do. Christmas isn't about the presents, there are so many more important things than that, but seeing our tree surrounded by beautifully wrapped gifts for our loved ones does have a certain warm and fuzzy feel. 2) We have a child. He is too young to really understand any of the concepts of Christmas, but he sees our decorations and we take him to look at Christmas lights around the neighborhood. Christmas music has been on almost constantly since before Thanksgiving and I sing carols to him all the time. He got to be Jesus for our churches live nativity. He won't remember it, but I will, as will all of the people who will lovingly/teasingly call him "Baby Jesus" for years and years to come. I also can't wait for him to open his presents. He may be more interested in the paper and boxes they come in, but it will be exciting for us and grow the anticipation of how he will react to this holiday as he gets older. Oh, the fun we will have!
This month certainly hasn't been without its challenges. I feel so overwhelmed, scatterbrained, losing track of things and time, unable to keep all of the balls I'm juggling up in the air. I've had moments of complete lack of grace or any ability to Just Deal, which doesn't make me feel very good about myself. The house has been a disaster (thank you, Clif, for being my hero and staying up until the wee morning hours to clean so I could feel better, I love you!), I haven't been able to get nearly as far as I need to with knitting orders, and Flynn has been having to deal with cutting 4 teeth simultaneously. We think this last challenge is what kicked up his very first fever earlier this week. Clif was amazing in handling him, getting some medications on board to reduce his fever, laying with him in bed with a cold compress, quietly snuggling or playing with some soft stuffed toys. Clif handled the situation so much better than I think I would have, certainly with more confidence, and even though he told me later he was scared and cried having to see Flynn so lethargic and unwell, I am thankful that he was there to take authoritative action to make our little man feel better. I was not nearly as confident as he at least appeared to be, knowing he was home and taking care of business gave me great piece of mind. Flynn's fever broke within 2 days, but he's still struggling with some serious nasal congestion that is making meal time less than pleasant. Still, he is much improved and has his energy and personality back, just in time for the weekend. We can survive the sudden torrential downpours of drool so much better when he is feeling good and smiling.
In other news, my worry about Flynn being slower to hit mobility milestones has turned out to be pretty much unnecessary. While still practicing what I call a 'zombie crawl' (lots of upper body pulling and lower body dragging, creepy...), it is a super effective and FAST zombie crawl. Flynn can get every where: sitting up from lying down, lying down from sitting up, front to back, back to front, spin 360 degrees, and travel in all directions. He
Clif has been loving, and excelling, as a new consultant for Tastefully Simple. He is doing a really great job and enjoys the "work", especially as it can be a nice little break from the more demanding needs of CWS. I decided to transition from Touchstone Crystal to a new company called Radiantly You. I feel passionate about the natural, organic, environmentally-aware product and the mission-mindedness of the company. I'm hopeful that I can push myself to grow in new ways through this experience and share the goodness with people. Natal Knits has done so much better than I ever thought this season, which has given me inspiration and motivation to expand the projects I work on and offer in the Etsy shop. Things will surely slow down after Christmas, even though there is plenty of scarf season left, but during the spring and summer I hope to work on more complex and varied projects in preparation for next year.
Whew! The holidays are here and they mean business. Even when things seem to be spiraling out of control I will strive to remember how fortunate we are, and when things are great I will relish the beauty, joy, and love that surrounds us.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Christmas is in a week. It's hard to believe, and more than a little terrifying, how fast time flies. I remember how long the month of December felt when I was younger. Thanksgiving would come and go and it still felt like an eternity until Christmas day. I actually didn't mind, my favorite part about Christmas is the build up to it: the music, decorating, festive outfits, holiday movies viewed in PJs with mugs of hot chocolate. I love Christmas day, but there's a hint of sadness as the day slips by. All too soon it is over and the entire year looms until it comes around again.
I've noticed, as I've gotten older, my love of the Christmas build up and dread of the letdown when it's over have increased 10-fold. I've almost adopted a method of self-preservation by not getting as excited about it as I was when I was younger (not even a kid, just younger). It certainly doesn't help that holidays, and life in general, is just different when you are an adult. The holiday stress you knew your parents felt, but didn't make sense to you, all of a sudden is stark and real. Traffic sucks, people are grumpy, and if you haven't saved some PTO you still have to go to work. Luckily I save as much of PTO for the end of year as possible, so I'll have a nice break at home.
For the first time in several years my anticipation of Christmas day has ramped to child-like heights. I blame that on a few things: 1) Clif and I have both been working on generating supplemental incomes for our family, which means that our savings can grow, but we also have a little bit extra to have a bigger Christmas than we usually do. Christmas isn't about the presents, there are so many more important things than that, but seeing our tree surrounded by beautifully wrapped gifts for our loved ones does have a certain warm and fuzzy feel. 2) We have a child. He is too young to really understand any of the concepts of Christmas, but he sees our decorations and we take him to look at Christmas lights around the neighborhood. Christmas music has been on almost constantly since before Thanksgiving and I sing carols to him all the time. He got to be Jesus for our churches live nativity. He won't remember it, but I will, as will all of the people who will lovingly/teasingly call him "Baby Jesus" for years and years to come. I also can't wait for him to open his presents. He may be more interested in the paper and boxes they come in, but it will be exciting for us and grow the anticipation of how he will react to this holiday as he gets older. Oh, the fun we will have!
This month certainly hasn't been without its challenges. I feel so overwhelmed, scatterbrained, losing track of things and time, unable to keep all of the balls I'm juggling up in the air. I've had moments of complete lack of grace or any ability to Just Deal, which doesn't make me feel very good about myself. The house has been a disaster (thank you, Clif, for being my hero and staying up until the wee morning hours to clean so I could feel better, I love you!), I haven't been able to get nearly as far as I need to with knitting orders, and Flynn has been having to deal with cutting 4 teeth simultaneously. We think this last challenge is what kicked up his very first fever earlier this week. Clif was amazing in handling him, getting some medications on board to reduce his fever, laying with him in bed with a cold compress, quietly snuggling or playing with some soft stuffed toys. Clif handled the situation so much better than I think I would have, certainly with more confidence, and even though he told me later he was scared and cried having to see Flynn so lethargic and unwell, I am thankful that he was there to take authoritative action to make our little man feel better. I was not nearly as confident as he at least appeared to be, knowing he was home and taking care of business gave me great piece of mind. Flynn's fever broke within 2 days, but he's still struggling with some serious nasal congestion that is making meal time less than pleasant. Still, he is much improved and has his energy and personality back, just in time for the weekend. We can survive the sudden torrential downpours of drool so much better when he is feeling good and smiling.
In other news, my worry about Flynn being slower to hit mobility milestones has turned out to be pretty much unnecessary. While still practicing what I call a 'zombie crawl' (lots of upper body pulling and lower body dragging, creepy...), it is a super effective and FAST zombie crawl. Flynn can get every where: sitting up from lying down, lying down from sitting up, front to back, back to front, spin 360 degrees, and travel in all directions. He
Clif has been loving, and excelling, as a new consultant for Tastefully Simple. He is doing a really great job and enjoys the "work", especially as it can be a nice little break from the more demanding needs of CWS. I decided to transition from Touchstone Crystal to a new company called Radiantly You. I feel passionate about the natural, organic, environmentally-aware product and the mission-mindedness of the company. I'm hopeful that I can push myself to grow in new ways through this experience and share the goodness with people. Natal Knits has done so much better than I ever thought this season, which has given me inspiration and motivation to expand the projects I work on and offer in the Etsy shop. Things will surely slow down after Christmas, even though there is plenty of scarf season left, but during the spring and summer I hope to work on more complex and varied projects in preparation for next year.
Whew! The holidays are here and they mean business. Even when things seem to be spiraling out of control I will strive to remember how fortunate we are, and when things are great I will relish the beauty, joy, and love that surrounds us.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
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