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!

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).

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.

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.

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).

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.

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)