She Grew Up

Sometime during the last 5 weeks, my big baby grew up. She says her alphabet, she counts to 10, she uses proper pronouns. Next month, she will be 2. Beatrice grew up. See for yourself.

She calls me Mom. Not Mommy or Mama. Mom. Like a teenager. It's so cute, I really don't mind. Much.

She doesn't need me to put on her shoes or button her jeans. She picks out her own hair bows and asks me to give her ponytails. She loves going to restaurants. She butters her own bread. She's grown up now.

She is starting to call things their proper names instead of the cute baby words she has been using for the past year. Cats are no longer meow-meows and butterflies are no longer buzziebyes. She is a big girl.

She is sassy and smart. She tells jokes and laughs at ours.

She narrates car rides with the sights that we see. She loves Chuck E. Cheese's. She is a big kid now.

Where was I when this happened???

All You Need Is Mouthwash

JD left for California yesterday. He took with him the last of our stuff. For the last 2 months, we have been living at my brother and sister in law's house. Except for some clothes and baby gear, we have been using their stuff. Sheets, furniture, kitchenware, towels, you name it, we are borrowing it. If you're new here or haven't been keeping up, our move to California got delayed AFTER we rented our townhouse, so my brother graciously offered his spare bedrooms to us. Yesterday, JD packed his car to the brim with the last of the toiletries, clothes, and odd and ends that belonged to us. He even took the mouthwash.

Using other people's stuff is pretty weird at first, but after the initial feeling of missing your own stuff wears off, you realize that very little is actually required to live comfortably. I never thought that I could manage without my full wardrobe to choose from or that life would be complete without my impressive collection of kitchen gadgets (my sister in law doesn't have a garlic press or meat mallet - gasp!). Being forced to store the majority of our belongings in boxes due to space issues (and the whole moving thing), I have discovered that most of our stuff isn't necessary for a happy life, or life at all. Basically, I have learned that all anyone needs is underwear, deodorant, and mouthwash. Man, I miss that mouthwash. Why did I let JD take it?


What got left behind is my pitiful maternity wardrobe (I still have a ton of weight to lose), my makeup, my computer (with internet thanks to my iPhone), my iPhone, my car, and the girls' clothes/blankets/loveys. We are borrowing pack n plays, baby papasan chairs, and booster seats. And you know what? It's plenty. Of course we have access to the comforts of my brother's home, but our only belongings are more than enough to sustain our lives comfortably.

I am totally inspired to really clean out and minimize our stuff when I get to California. Less is actually more when it comes to stuff. Although I will admit, I can't wait to jump into our king bed and have access to more options than black or brown flip flops. Oh, and the mouthwash. I really need my mouthwash.

How I Feel Now

On Monday, JD leaves for California. He is driving across the country and plans to be there by the end of the week. The girls and I will follow in 2 short weeks.

Remember when I wrote about how excited I was to move? Well that changed as soon as I had Penelope. Having 2 babies is harder than I imagined. I am blessed to have my mom live 15 minutes away to come play with my babies while I nap, shower, or nap. I love meeting up with my brothers and sisters in law for dinner and s'mores around a bonfire on Friday nights. Impromptu coffee dates with friends at Starbucks are little luxuries I am lucky to have. All of that is about to change though. We are moving to a place where we know no one and won't have any help with the girls. We are moving to a place that I'm not so sure I want to go to anymore.

I have been pretty good about hiding these feelings for the past 4 weeks. Can you believe Penelope is 4 weeks old already? Eek! Time flies when you're having fun! But as the countdown nears closer and closer to moving day, I can't seem to hide my tears feelings anymore. I am sad. I have never lived away from my immediate family before and as much as I like to think of myself as an independent person, I am realizing that I have taken for granted how wonderful it is to live in the same town as everyone I love. Can someone please tell me how I will live without my mom??? 

Spending every holiday with my brothers has been a gift that I never thought I would miss and honestly, never thought I would have it any other way. Watching my babies play with their grandparents is such a sweet thing and something that I now feel really guilty about taking away from them. I guess I am realizing how much I am going to miss everyone and how afraid I am that life is going to go on without us. Eventually, my brothers will have some babies of their own and my mom will have new grandbabies to love on. Christmases for them will be full of inside jokes and old traditions while we make new memories, just the 4 of us. They will continue to meet for Friday night dinners while we do our thing 2500 miles away. To say that I am sad is an understatement. I might be a little devastated.

But, (thank God there is always a "but") I know that this is an adventure for our family that is completely orchestrated by God. We have prayed for this opportunity for 3 years and watching doors open up for us that were prayed about years ago is pretty cool. Despite my sadness, I know that God will get me through the loneliness and sorrow about leaving my family for the first time in my life. I just keep looking on the bright side like how awesome the weather is going to be and how much stuff there is to do in Los Angeles. But really, I'm afraid if I start crying, I'll never stop. I'd like to blame the postpartum hormones on some of this, but I'm pretty sure I just don't want to move. 


In 2 more weeks I get to see what I'm made of. I can either put my big girl panties on and tackle this move with strength and poise or turn into a puddle of weakness and tears. I'm betting on a little bit of both. We shall see.

A Really Great Story About Something

I have a really great story to tell. A few actually. They are witty and thought provoking, smart and hilarious. The only problem is I can't remember them. Everyday I think of the perfect blog post to write, but when I get a chance to sit down and write it, I decide to take a nap instead. Then I wake up and nurse a baby, play with a toddler, cook for a husband, and try to stay awake until bedtime. When I get another chance to write it, I decide to take a nap again. The cycle just continues with me thinking of awesome blogs to write, but deciding to nap instead. And in the rare moments that I feel rested enough to skip the sacred nap, I can't remember the awesome, witty, thought provoking story I was going to write. Sigh. 


That is what has happened with this post. I have been wracking my brain for the past hour trying to remember all of the interesting stories I wanted to share, but I can't remember a darn thing. Not a single, tiny snippet of a story that I once thought to be interesting enough to share with you all. Nothing. Nada. Nil. Plus I'm really tired and want to crawl into bed so my brain is not functioning at maximum capacity right now. Can I just ramble instead? Yes? Good.

I think I am starting to get the hang of having 2 kids. Penelope is sleeping more at night and I am happy to report that approximately 2 nights in the last 3.5 weeks have yielded 7+ hours of uninterrupted sleep for me. That means I wake up feeling semi refreshed and rested. I still require an afternoon nap everyday though. On the few days that I have opted to skip the nap, I have really, really regretted it. Nursing zaps me. Plus naps are freaking awesome. They really are.

It has only been 3.5 weeks since Penelope surged into this world from my loins, but it feels like she has always been with us. The other night, JD asked me if I remembered when it was just us and Beatrice. I had to think about it for a good minute and, I kind of don't remember. Penelope fits right in our little family so perfectly, it's hard to remember life without her. She is the sweetest, cutest, cuddliest little baby ever. I love her.

Because I can't remember the point of this post and feel as though I could ramble on forever, I'm going to wrap this up with some photos from Penelope's newborn session. I figure it is a fine way to end a post about nothing. Plus you get to see some beautiful pictures of a precious newborn. Plus plus I really want to go to bed. Until next week when I decide to stay up late to write about nothing again, enjoy these photos of our little family.

Two Under Two

Hi everyone. Remember me? I used to have a blog that I updated regularly. I also used to shower in the mornings and sleep longer than 2 hours at a time. I used to be a semi put together mom. Now I am a hot mess. I never feel rested and I lack big time in the hygiene department. I am a mom of a newborn. And a toddler. At once. I have 2 kids under 2. And it is HARD.

Sigh.

Remember when I wrote this? Well, I was on to something. When I wrote that, I didn't have a clue how hard it would be to manage 2 little ones at the same time. I still don't know how I'm going to manage it now that it is my reality. I'm tired. I'm emotional. I'm a little discouraged. I feel like I won't ever get the hang of it. And as each day passes with me still not getting the hang of it, I feel like the biggest loser ever.

Sigh.

It doesn't help that everyone I talk to with more than 1 child says the same thing to me. Everyone tells me that it doesn't get easier. Seriously? Can't 1 person tell me that it's a piece of cake after the baby turns 2 weeks old??? Pretty please? I keep hearing stories of endless exhaustion, a lifetime of showers after 3pm, and running late to every appointment for the next 18 years. That sounds really awful to this former semi put together mom. I need a glimmer of hope that I will get the hang of 2 kids at once before the baby is weaned. Showers before 10am are critical to my sanity. And the general population's air quality. For reals.

Right now, I am relying on the help that I get from JD. He is on paternity leave for the next 4 weeks, thank the Lord. I am also coming to terms that I can't do it all right now. I am doing as much as I can and tending to both girls' needs as best as I can, but I'm not beating myself up when I am overwhelmed. And I pray. A lot. And cry. A little. Okay a lot. But I'm blaming the hormones on that.

Anyone want to tell me it's gets easier sooner than later? For these guys' sake?

Surviving

Penelope is 1 week old today. The past week has been a blur of endless feedings, lots of diaper changes, total exhaustion, and complete and utter love. This baby girl is the sweetest, most precious addition to our family. She is perfect for us and we are all completely smitten with her. And exhausted. We are pretty darn exhausted.

We are basically operating in survival mode. JD gets the most sleep and takes the day shift since Beatrice needs the most rested parent to watch after her. I get the night shift and take lots of rests and naps during the day so I don't topple over in sheer exhaustion. So far, no one has fallen asleep at the dinner table or lost track of a child so I think we are doing pretty awesome as parents of 2 under 2. For the first week, anyway.

Late nights with this girl are okay in my book. She's almost too precious for words.

Ho Ho Ho, Penelope Is Here

Guess what I'm doing right now. It involves an uncomfortable hospital room recliner, sore boob-parts, and a teeny baby. Give up? It's pretty special really. I'm nursing our new baby girl, Penelope Leigh.

I had our baby last night! Say hello.

I went into labor early Tuesday morning. Contractions started coming regularly around 6am. I labored at home all morning while JD ran last minute errands and my sister in law watched Beatrice. Since I was 2 days past my due date, I had an ultrasound scheduled for noon to check on the baby's size, fluid levels, and overall well-being inside my uterus. The contractions were stronger, but not increasing in intervals so I kept my appointment. Baby was measuring right on track at 40 weeks and doing great, thank God.

My family has a history of huge babies - 12 pounders - so my OB was not thrilled with leaving this baby in for much longer. Because of my strong desire to labor and deliver naturally and med-free, I spent the greater portion of the past week praying fervently to go into labor on my own. Induction scared me and JD and I had decided that as long as the baby was not in danger, we would not agree to it. Thankfully, God decided that Tuesday was an excellent day to have a baby. So we did!

At my appointment, I was dilated to 3 cms when my doctor checked me. She said that by the way I was breathing through the contractions and able to talk immediately after them, I was not ready to go to the hospital and have the baby until later that night. That was the weird thing about this labor: I managed the contractions so differently than I did with Beatrice. I breathed and groaned through them instead of tensing up my body and holding my breathe. It really helped. I felt great after each grueling labor pain. I found that breathing and focusing on what was happening to my body was surprisingly helpful and made the contractions so much more manageable. I handled the pain completely differently and had a really great recovery period in between the contractions. To everyone that witnessed my first childbirth experience, this time probably seemed like false labor.

After the ultrasound appointment, JD and I headed home to eat. I had some toast and ice water. The contractions started picking up so we packed the last of our bags and headed to the hospital around 3:30. I was admitted and dilated to 5 cms. I was so tired and really wanted to sleep, but with contractions coming every 2 minutes or so, that wasn't possible. I really started wondering why natural childbirth was so important to me. Sleep seemed like the better option at that point. But my wonderful husband and nurse encouraged me to keep going according to my birth plan. Stupid birth plan. So I did.

I quickly progressed. From 4 o'clock to 6, I advanced from 5 cms to 8. The OB on call came in to talk about breaking my water. I agreed and that's when the party started. The sucky, terrible pain party that take you to a place of no turning back. Contractions come at you every 30 seconds or so and birth is imminent. There is no relief from the pain and you better get your head in the game if it's not already because it's almost time to expel a human from your loins. Don't go to that party if you can help it.  

Within an hour I was ready to push. Throughout the entire labor, I groaned and made a ho ho ho sound. Every couple of ho ho hos, JD would chime in with a "Merry Christmas." He's funny, that guy. As soon as I felt the urge to push, all ho ho hoing ceased and I became a savage animal-woman. I raged from deep within my belly to GET THE BABY OUT. I was not kind about it, I did not wait to be told to push, I decided that I had had enough of laboring this baby and it was time to GET HER OUT. And that would have been fine with everyone except the bed wasn't ready. While the nurses scrambled to prepare the bed and the biohazard bags, I began pushing out the baby on my side with nothing but everyone's shoes under my now disassembled bed. I regret to announce that no one's shoes made it, not even mine. They all got slimed. With uterine guts, blood, and poop. Let's just leave it at that...

I somehow managed to get on my back and after 7 minutes of pushing, Penelope Leigh's tiny little body came out of me. Pushing her was hard and painful. I remember feeling lots of pressure with Beatrice's exit from my body, but this time I felt stinging, burning pain. Like I was ripping from the front to back. Thankfully, it only felt like that. I didn't rip anything. Thank you Lord Jesus. I like my loins the way they are, intact and not mangled by people coming out of them.

She came out and I shouted, "Thank you Jesus, it's over!!!!" I promise you, that is probably the best gift of natural childbirth: the second that baby emerges, the pain stops. Instantly. It is awesome. And of course, there is the baby!

Penelope got to stay in our room for over an hour before the nursery folks took her for measurements and a bath. I nursed her right away and spent the next moments kissing her tiny face and introducing myself to her. JD and I were the only ones in the delivery room and it was such a special time for us. We loved having the time afterwards to ooh and ahh over our newest baby girl, just the 2 of us. Soon everyone arrived and took turns holding her and congratulating us. We are blessed.

It has been a whirlwind few days. JD has been staying at home with Beatrice at night while I stay at the hospital alone with Penelope. They come during the day and stay with us, but I am so ready to be home with my big girl, the new big sister.

Penelope is my petite baby weighing in at 8 lbs 4 oz. She is 20 3/4" long. She is tiny and precious and wonderfully made.

Once again, recovery has been a breeze. I am pretty sore in the pelvic bone region, but my doctor says that is normal for second pregnancies. I had a lot of pain in my pelvic bone during the last 20 weeks of pregnancy so the pain is no real surprise, just unwanted. Otherwise, I feel great and happy and blessed. I love my babies.

Everyone keeps asking me if this birth was better or worse than my first. I can't really say. It was definitely quicker and I handled the pain so much better this time, but I didn't feel the same sense of accomplishment as I did after having Beatrice med-free. This time felt like less of a personal thing and more of a necessary process. Also, with Beatrice I relied so much on my faith and God's strength to get me through. I relied on Him in a different way with Penelope's birth. There was more faith in the fact that He would bring Penelope naturally without an induction than His ability to not let me die like I thought I would with Beatrice. I knew I would live this time, and thankfully, I did. And tomorrow I get to go home and live with 2 beautiful little girls and their wonderful daddy. Life is good and God is really, really great. Now if you'll excuse me, an itty bitty girl needs her milk for the bazillionth time tonight.