Oh, HI!

Oh my. So, I have refused to look at my blog stats to even see how long it has been since I last posted. Perhaps I'll look once this post is done... but I've MISSED YOU! I've missed writing. I've missed taking the time to chronicle the minutiae of our lives. I especially miss the hours that I have wasted staring at social media instead of feeding any sort of creative urges that I might have had.

That brings me to the NOW. The new year. A time for good intentions and clearing out and moving forward in a purposeful manner. And so I shall - but first, let me catch you up.

Lily Ruth is FIVE. She is a kindergartener, a ballet dancer, a budding thespian, a singer of silly songs, a tiny fashionista, and an all-around wonderful girl. She is bolder and braver every day. She is wild and funny, stormy and petulant, kind and thoughtful all in every day.

Alec D is 20 months old. Almost old enough to stop counting by months ;-) He is talking up a storm, running, climbing and changing so fast that it's hard to keep up! He loves water, swings, and work of any kind (For Christmas, he got a broom / mop set and a toy vacuum cleaner. He spent the next 3 hours "cleaning" the house). He stopped nursing January 1st. This week, we will dismantle the crib. Next week, I expect him to learn to solve for "X" :-P

Dottie Dog just passed her first anniversary of being a dog with a permanent home. She is funny and kind and full of crazy dog energy. I am thankful for her every day.

Last year was hard and wonderful and full of change. But most of it was just hard. I used almost all of my energy every day just trying to keep us afloat and not act like a total jerk. And we are. Afloat, that is - I may or may not have been a jerk... It took all of us working together, but our family is happy, healthy and whole. I know that I managed to make a few things along the way, and a few story-worthy things happened. If I end up remembering any of it in sufficient detail, I will tell you all about it.

For now, it just feels good to be typing instead of scrolling on my phone. Let's just call this progress, and hope to build from here, shall we?

Alec D Turned 1!

I have a hard time reconciling the passage of the last year. Each day seemed eternal yet fleeting. As one who may not be suited to Stay At Home Motherhood, I am irritated, humbled and blessed in every day.

Just one week before his birthday, Alec took the momentum that he had spent several weeks building, and took off walking. Seriously. Just wandered off. We were at my stepdad's ranch. Daddy and Lily (she has announced her preference for just Lily) were outside with Pops and the horses.

Alec and I were inside with Grammy. He was standing holding on to her chair just bouncing and giggling. Then he let go, pivoted away and walked off - for somewhere between 8 and 10 feet. We started laughing and clapping, then I started crying... which is unfortunately my go-to when I am overwhelmed.

He was giddy with the freedom of it all. He didn't stop walking and hooting until well after 10 p.m. This made sleeping in our hotel room a bit of a challenge. We finally turned off the lights and t.v. and let him wander in the dark. He was fine with that for a while and eventually he climbed in with me for a rousing round of If Baby's Not Sleeping, Ain't Nobody Sleeping. Then he passed out.

Side note: I have talked to several mothers since who relate tales of taking baby who seemed to be in no hurry to walk to the coast and having them suddenly stand up and walk off. Perhaps it's the invigorating salt air?

We spent the next day at the aquarium.

Lily LOVED showing all of her favorite sea dwellers to her brother. They were united in their loathing of the splash pad play area :-/ After spending at least 15 minutes getting everyone into swimsuits and sunscreen, we spent maybe 5 minutes dragging miserable kids through sprinklers before giving up and drying off. Back to the dolphins for some soothing of the senses, then we made our way home.

The vehement dislike on the part of both kids really threw me. They both LOVE water. On any given day, if things are going poorly, I can dump them both in the tub and turn it around in an instant.

Alec already shares his sister's love of the pool, and he has only been swimming once. I guess that my tiny control freaks just hated the concept of random giant sprinklers and even more random splooshes of water from above.

My big guy followed his break though with yet another one - he can now climb the ladder to sister's loft bed. I am exhausted just thinking about it! In what is becoming Typical Alec Fashion, he just walked over to it and began climbing. No hesitation. No previous tries.

It's almost as though those incoming curls give him bravery, strength and agility beyond measure...

In Small Blessings news, all of these new skills wear him OUT. While this creates extra whining, it also creates extra snuggle time, and opportunities for me to just sit still and hold him. Moments that are fewer and farther between as he grows.

I love you, my son. I am so proud of you! Happy first birthday, and many, many more.

Let's Play Catch-Up...

Shall We?

** side note: I once read a book wherein a good portion of the communication was portrayed through e-mails. Said e-mails were titled with a sentence, and then the body was a continuation of the thought from the title. I loved that format. It really tickled me.**

SO! Toward my goal of re-finding the joy in my motherhood days, I have allowed a LOT to slide... (great. Now that I have typed "a lot", I now have to go read the "alot" post from hyperbole and a half. I'll be back in a minute - after I stop snorting with laughter... o.k., I'm back.) as in, I stopped keeping up with the dishes and the laundry :-/ As it turns out, those things still have to be done. Apparently, ignoring them just causes large-scale messes that must be dealt with when you are at your most exhausted and emotional. Lame. I was kind-of hoping that the droppings in the garage were from a house elf and not just the suspected mice. They were not from a house elf. So now I have mice AND huge piles of responsibility. Whatever.

While letting things slide, we managed to have big fun. Wanna see? Well too bad. This is my blog.

Sister Girl introduced Brother Bear to acrylic paints!

We did some exploring at the botanical center. There are currently kid-size birdhouses made by architects and designers all over the grounds:

Our daughter is exploring her limits with brash, adventurous leaps. Sometimes she falls, but she is finally learning the joy of trying until you conquer your fear and achieving something that takes real courage and effort. I am so proud of her! Also, I have started carrying antibiotic ointment and band-aids.

Our poor garden took a beating during a surprise spring hail storm last week. The plants survived, but seem very confused and a bit bedraggled.

*sigh* I really think that we are going to have a much lower yield this year than we did the first year. This weird weather and the continued growth of the neighbor's giant oak tree (it now shades a majority of the garden for the majority of each day) combined with my general lack of true garden knowledge mean that everything just seems a bit *meh* back there. I may be wrong. It may just be early days yet...

Back to my adventures in motherhood... I surprised Lily Ruth with a visit to the splash beach at the zoo - Alec is surprised every time that we leave the house, so he doesn't count. I snuck a bag with their swimsuits and a few towels into the stroller, and we had a ball :-) Alec may learn to walk solely in order to better navigate the shallow water and deep, coarse sand.

So there you have it. Trying to stay on track with the love and the joy. Finding new times for chores. Finding that this means less time for personal hygiene :-O Oh well.

Playground Rant

OR: Why You Are Irritating Me

Let me preface this rant with a statement - The upcoming diatribe is purely my opinion. As a human adult, I have my very own opinion. It may or may not differ from yours. If you feel strongly about your differing opinion, please feel free to let me know.

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The weather here has finally rounded the corner from winter to spring! Sap is rising in our plants and our spirits. Lily Ruth has re-fallen in love with a neighborhood playground. It is an easy walk away from our house, and if no one else is around, Dottie Dog can run a few leash-free laps around the adjoining baseball field.

A few days ago, I decided to attempt to circumvent an Arsenic Hour tantrum by taking a late afternoon walk to the playground. I loaded Alec D into the stroller, harnessed up the dog, and passed out sunglasses. Away we went. As we approached the park, we noticed that it was BUSY. Soccer practice on the grass. Picnic-ers and barbeque-ers around the tables, kiddos swarming over the playground equipment. In short, the logical occupancy expectation of a neighborhood park on a gorgeous spring afternoon.

Here's where part one of my rant begins. As we entered the park via the only opening that a stroller can fit through on that particular side, a couple of young ladies were throwing a ball for a unleashed young and very large dog. As I struggled across the grass with a stroller, an excited dog and a petulant four-year-old, the ladies allowed their (illegally) unleashed dog to bound over and tackle my dog. Now, Dottie is an excellent dog who ADORES playing with other dogs, but she is young and a bit small, and if she doesn't feel dominant, she starts snapping - an issue that we intend to address with a trainer as soon as we can afford one. SO, while I am attempting to keep my young children from being bowled over by a dog interaction that is not going well, I am also being wrapped in my dog's (required BY LAW) leash. After a few half-hearted rounds of calling their dog's name, the girls finally make their way over to us and haul their dog off of mine. At this point it becomes evident that they have not even brought a leash for their dog. They simply wait until we are 'far enough' away, then let their dog go again.

Now, I am all for having a well trained dog. I understand their pride in the temperament and obedience of their dog. Don't all dog owners ultimately wish for a perfect pooch who walks calmly by your side without the burden of a leash and responds instantly to hand signals and quiet commands? It sure would be nice... But the truth is, even if your dog is perfect, you have NO IDEA what any other dog is like. What if the dog your dog approaches off-leash has aggression issues? What if Dottie had been abused and the interaction really scared her? This is not a dog park. It is a people park. What if your rambunctious, good-natured pup had inadvertently caused injury to one of my kids or to my dog because you wish the rules were different?

Ugh. Then I spent our entire park visit hauling on Dottie's leash as she whined and pulled trying desperately to get over to the unleashed dog... who was eventually joined by two other unleashed dogs. All of those dogs got to romp and play. Dottie got to wish.

Ready for part two? Absentee playground parents. Last week, a friend's three-year-old girl harassed on a playground by several six and seven-year-old boys acting as a pack and who's parents made not one appearance. That is one type of hands-off parenting that irritates me. Yes, let your kids run and play and figure stuff out for them selves, but watch them. Do not allow their freedom to include bullying. How is that ever o.k.?

Our experience didn't involve bullying, but it made me a bit more sad. Kids so starved for parental attention that they cling limpet-like to any available adult. As soon as we entered the playground, the circling started. Not at all unusual - kids are curious. They clock each new arrival and gauge the potential for interaction. I started to unbuckle Alec from the stroller, and a young boy (possibly 3 or 4, but big for his age) ran up and started to pull all of the toys from Alec's hands and lap. He proceeded to shake, prod and attempt to 'open' each one. Then the kid turns and starts poking at the dog. All of this happened in less than 10 seconds. I was prying toys from his hands and attempting to step between him and the dog before he stuck his fingers in her mouth. "Aiden. Get over here. Leave them alone. Go play right now" a voice calls out in an unattached, bored manner. Three completely contradictory statements combined with the lack of actual action by the parent in what was obviously an oft-repeated refrain equaled a pretty obvious conclusion - the kid did nothing to change his behavior. In a few seconds, he wheeled off to the next situation... which happened to be shoving Lily Ruth out of the way so that he could use something that her actions had drawn his attention to.

In the mean time, a young girl (maybe 4?) begins drifting toward us. As Lily Ruth, Alec, Dottie and I climbed up the play structure and started playing, she made laps around us. Each lap brought her closer. Meanwhile, Aiden streaked through the center of our group every minute or so. About every third time through, his mother said the same thing: "Aiden. Get over here. Leave them alone. Go play right now." The girl eventually made her way to us, and as we played, she leaned in with naked longing on her face, but never said a word or actually tried to play with us. She sidled in and made several attempts to cut one or both of my kids away from me so that she could take their place. Aiden continued to rush through and kick / bang on things as he passed. Occasionally, he poked at Dottie, grabbed her tail or announced that he was going to unbuckle her harness.

I kept my voice sweet and calm. I kept my hands light and off of kids that weren't my own except to remove other hands from my kids and dog. We just kept moving and changing our play. At each change, these kids shadowed us or ran ahead. They crowded onto ladders as Lily Ruth climbed; knocking her aside and stepping on her. The shoved into the tunnel as she moved toward it. They tried to slip between Alec and I as I guided him up steps and down slides. "Watch me!" "Help me!" "I'm gonna do THIS!" Aiden begged for my attention with loud words and big actions. The girl begged with her eyes and her physical proximity. I never heard her name. No one spoke to her (other than me) the whole time we were there.

The kids and I were quickly overwhelmed. It was time to go. I buckled Alec back in. Aiden grabbed toys and poked at Dottie's ears. "Aiden. Get over here. Leave them alone. Go play right now." He followed us to the edge of the playground. "You NO GO. STAY. Play wif me NOW!"

We walked away... right into a dog ambush from yet another unleashed pooch. Dottie whined and pulled. Lily Ruth whined and dragged her feet. Alec threw his sunglasses down. I mentally stomped my feet and outwardly gritted my teeth.

Maybe next time I will find the fortitude to say something to the dog owners. Maybe next time I will find the energy to better deflect or engage the sad kids. *sigh*

Rant over.

Have You Seen My Head?

Because I can't find it. I may or may not have left it somewhere in last week... or perhaps the week before that.

Just when I think that I have everything under control, I find myself lost in a tornado of early spring colds, weird family stress and temper tantrums.

My children are amazing and wonderful. I never stop thinking that. Where I falter is my belief in myself. In my ability to believe that I can manage this whole two-kids-thing. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be, ya'll. I kind of thought that it would be hard. In the same way that you pay lip service to understanding things that you know that you should have read up on, but didn't.

When is it exactly that I will feel like the one in charge? I read blog posts by women who serve their children red lentil with arugula soup and lightly toasted sprouted grain crostini with goat cheese... and I feel like an asshole for the "discussions" (read: arguments) with my four year old about weather or not she will eat anything other than the 6-8 foods currently in her repertoire... Then Alec D pulls himself up on my leg and starts bouncing and whining and honestly, I feel like walking out the damn door.

I don't, though. I try to take a breath. I try to calm myself... but I usually end up snapping irritably at one or both of the kids then trying to appease all of us with snacks and naps... in front of the t.v. ...

*sigh*

The weather is changing. Finally warming. I feel a little like maybe I'm warming too. We can go outside to play and walk the dog. We wait for the school bus while watching snails and pillbugs. Lily Ruth collects worms and Alec eats dirt while I thin out our garden beds and replant the thinned shoots. We get ready for bed while the sun is still saying goodnight.

Spring truly is a time of rebirth. Perhaps I can get in on this. Allow the new growth around me to open my heart. Let these warm breezes start to blow away needless worry and mismanaged stress. I know it's a lot to ask of a season. For a simple flip of the calendar to fix me. So maybe I admit that the work has to be done by me. I am the one who has to (yet again) reset my focus. Resolve (yet again) to be more grateful for the opportunity to stay home with our children. This is a blessing. I really shouldn't treat it like a curse every day at 5 p.m. when all three of us are left with patience stretched thin enough to be transparent.

Here's my idea: I want a kid-sized table right at the edge of the kitchen. I want them to be able to sit near me and play or draw or eat snippets of the upcoming meal. Since meal prep time happens to be inevitable, and has lately been a bit strained because the kiddos just want to be with me (and whine), and I just want some damn quiet time (and wine)... I dunno. I just feel like if we could be together instead of separated by walls with the t.v. blaring... hmpfh...

Obviously, my head is a bit jumbled. Cranky resentment, good intentions, grandiose plans. It's a bird nest up there. Apparently, coffee doesn't unsnarl bird nests. Neither does cheap wine. I wonder if expensive wine and/or tropical vacations are good unsnarlers. If so, could you send me one?

What Day Is It?

Ya'll, if Lily Ruth didn't have someplace to be every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I am not convinced that I would have any idea what day it is. Ever. This whole Stay At Home Mother Of Two "thing" is hard and exhausting and at some point every day I am convinced that it is not for me. That said, I still genuinely thank God at least once a day for the amazing miracles that are my children. No matter how weird, wild, awful or insane the day may be, there are still moments of pure gold. Glimpses of holiness.

Alec crawls lightning fast into the kitchen where I am making dinner. Pulls himself to standing using my pants. Waits until he has my full attention (which he usually gains by hooting and bouncing) then growls, attempts to zerbert me (through my pants) then takes off at the speed of light while laughing hysterically.

In a moment of flurried activity while trying to get out of the door, I was listing what we had and what we needed out loud. "Lily Ruth has shoes and a jacket. Mama has shoes and a jacket. Alec is not ready. What does Alec need?" From the other room I hear Lily Ruth "HUMPS!" "What!?" She bursts into the nursery and proclaims "Camel humps, Mama! Alec D needs CAMEL HUMPS!!!"

Oh MAN! I need these moments. I need to hold them close and pull them out when Alec is crying hysterically and pulling on my leg while I prepare lunch for Lily Ruth and try not to start crying myself or yell at my baby. For when Lily Ruth's eyes narrow and she loses the ability to back down or even just calm down. *sigh* It is REALLY hard to see your least favorite personal character traits reflected in someone you love so much.

As a four-almost-five-year-old, Lily Ruth's job is to catalog her world, interpret what she sees and find her place in it. It is essential that she find her boundaries and understand how firm or flexible that they are. This means that she is constantly pushing me. Constantly. She has almost stopped the tantrums, but has replaced them with subtle insurrection. Refusing to meet my eyes when I am giving her directions (that she then chooses not to follow). Not stopping a behavior immediately when told to (something she used to do every time). Repeating an infraction that she would normally have not returned to because of the consequences. Trying out her lying skills... Oi. I am not known for my patience, people.

Yesterday was a real challenge. Not just an every day challenge. In addition to some subtle pushing, she tried a fairly major power play. I was tidying the house in a pretty manic manner. Both kids were playing in Lily Ruth's room. Then there was screaming. From Alec. When I rounded the corner, Alec was hysterical and Lily Ruth was attempting to hide behind the guest bed. I scooped him up and asked her what happened. She claimed not to know. Then she claimed that he fell. Then she said that she was "just holding him like usual" but he slipped. She was miming standing up straight and holding him under the arms. Then her arms went limp. Crap. She is shooting up like a weed, and he is as heavy as a tank. She knows for a FACT that she is not allowed to pick him up. We have this discussion every. damn. day. as part of a reminder program that she is not in charge of the baby or the dog or the family... So there I am holding a freaked out baby and staring at a freaked out, defiant child. Where the hell is that fabled How To manual for parents when you need it? Why do I not ever feel like I know the right way to react? I'm guessing that verbally chastising the defiant one then banishing her to the indefinite Time Out while you nurse the bruised one is not the right choice...

You would think that injury to her favorite sibling would put the kibosh on further antics. I would think that. But it didn't. She went ahead and pushed forward with poor listening, some light lying and some serious whining when her friends left after an impromptu play date. *sigh*

You know, I've had two days of workshops this month (done hurriedly due to poor planning on my part...). After each day, I felt renewed and revitalized. Excited about my career (and eager to someday return to it) and so thrilled to be reunited with my babies after 6-8 hours apart. I felt determined to rejuvenate my parenting and bring joy back to what was becoming a slog. Then the reality of each day sets back in. The teething and the whining. Constantly fluctuating naps. Guilt that I don't have more energy and time for either of them after I'm done just trying to provide the basics (like food, clean clothes and naps).

We just have to make it through this part. Make it through with as much love and care as possible. Not all parts of parenting are as hard as the first year. Not all parts are as hard as the fourth year. Heck, not all parts are as hard as the forty-first year :-P

I can do this. I want to do this. And I really want to get it right. Hopefully that counts for something.

Tantrum Days

Oh. Mah. GAW. Yesterday was a 10 on the Epic Tantrum Scale you guys. Since turning 4, Lily Ruth has done some experimentation with temper tantrums, begging and whining. This is not necessarily news-worthy - she's 4. If she wasn't testing boundaries and pushing limits, I'd be worried. We even had a few weeks of full-blown screaming tantrums that lasted for a minimum of 30 minutes each.

This blew all of those out of the water. I am still reeling. When I texted my husband at 3:37 with "possibly the worst day ever. Do not come home without vodka", I was only kidding a little bit. Luckily, he gets me. He came home with hugs and pomegranate vodka.

It started over candy (or rather, the lack thereof in Lily Ruth's hot little hand). It continued as a refusal to calm down. It escalated as she battled to stay angry.

"I am going to THROW this!" "Lily Ruth, you know that if you throw something, the consequence is that it will be taken away."

"NO, Mama! I am GOING to throw this, and don't you DARE take it away from me! Don't you DARE!"

"I am GOING to get out of my room. I am GOING to get my things back!"

"NOOOOOOOOO! Don't you DARE throw the candy away! I AM GOING TO BITE YOU!"

This is where she went into pure Berserker mode. A tiny hurricane of angry fists, furious kicks, gnashing teeth and top-volume shrieking. I held her at arm's length as she raged at me. At one point, she actually managed to grab a handful of my hair and pull. I slapped her hand before I even realized it.

"I HATE YOU! I am NEVER going to love you. Never. Ever. AGAIN."

"I am going to call Daddy and tell him that you are acting like a JERK, Mama. I am going to write him that you are throwing my things and acting AWFUL."

It went on. And on. And on. By the time she wound down enough to stop screaming, there were three large containers of things from her room in the garage, and the contents of the candy bowl were in the garbage.

When she came to me white faced and red eyed to ask for water, I was shaking with the effort of holding her back physically and the mental effort of not losing control myself. I made her a large glass of ice water, and led her to the couch. I folded her grasshopper-long legs into my lap and wrapped her in a hug. I leaned my head against hers and whispered "I ALWAYS love you. Always. Even when there is screaming, I love you." She started sobbing again. We hugged for a while. Then I unfolded myself and went in to comfort poor Alec who had been awakened from his nap by all of the screaming. He had himself had been crying for quite some time, but I had been unwilling to let Lily Ruth out of my sight until she calmed down. *sigh*

Don made it home not too long after it was all over. It felt like an eternity. I was completely wiped out. We made (giant) cocktails in to-go cups and bundled everybody up for a walk. After a few minutes of banal pleasantries, I told Lily Ruth that we needed to talk about what happened.

I started with why and how it began. I walked her through the series of events and reminded her of each opportunity that I had given her to calm down and change her behavior. Don and I both talked about how opinions and emotions are both allowed, but temper tantrums are not appropriate ways to express either. We talked about the fact that a temper tantrum will NEVER (not even ONE time) cause Mama or Daddy to give in to a demand. I finished up by reminding her that the loss of candy and toys were a direct consequence of her actions, and asked her if she understood that...

"Yeah, but I get all my stuff back later." She skipped off to pick a weed.

Crap. All for naught?

"Actually, Boo, you will get three things back tomorrow, and we will talk about the rest of it later."

"O.K."

Ya'll, I don't think I am cut out for this. Is it too late to pack her off to boarding school or even sell her on etsy? That's right - etsy. I made her. She's handmade. Therefore, etsy instead of e-bay. I'll bet if I don't mention her propensity for tantrums, I could get a FORTUNE for her.

We made it home, and Lily Ruth retired to the back yard with Dottie Dog to play with the ridiculously over-sized stick that she had picked up on the walk. Soon, she had broken it into two, and was racing around the yard using them as comically large drumsticks.

"Mama! Come out here and listen to the noises that I am making! Do you like my sounds?"

Oh Baby Girl. I love them.

To Sleep, Or Not To Sleep...

These are from October of 2012. I had obviously intended to add more of them, and had perhaps intended to flesh them out a bit, but never got around to it. Any further details are lost to the mists of sleep deprivation and time, but I cannot bear to delete them!

Vignettes through exhausted eyes:

I should have turned out the light ages ago, but I didn't. I'm awake and reading waaaay past my bedtime again. A subtle movement in the doorway catches my eye. Lily Ruth stands quietly. Eyes mostly closed, brow furled against the light, sippy cup and blanket clutched tightly. "Come on in, Baby Love" I say softly. She nods in agreement and skirts her sleeping dog. "I just needed you" she states as she climbs over me and settles in.

***************

Another late night. Pregnancy hormones wreck havoc on a mama's routines. At the thump of tiny feet hitting the floor I pause my reading and wait. Nothing for a few moments, then a tousled head appears. "I need to go POTTY" she states brightly. I leap up and herd her into the bathroom. I seat her sleepy self on the small seat, and she drapes her arms around my neck. As her weight melts into mine, I realize that she's telling me a story. "My body just said 'Wih-we Wuf, you need to go tinkle' and I said 'oh, o.k.' so I got up and told you and you put me on the potty and then I tinkled and I really did have to go..." Her voice trails off and her eyes slide shut as I lift her up and carry her into our bed. "You forgot my agua." *sigh*

***************

Siblings

Lily Ruth is an incredible big sister. She's loving and protective. She's inclusive and silly. Alec is the first person that she looks for in the morning, and (almost) the last kiss that she gives each night. It is fascinating to watch her watch him. It thrills me to see that most of her actions toward him are motivated by sheer love and her delight in sharing her world with him. It also completely tickles me to notice when she is motivated by a need to be SEEN when all (or most) of the attention in the room is focused on that baby.

It follows that I have very few pictures of Alec alone. When the camera comes out, she snuggles in close to make sure that she is included. Now to be fair, a lot of the time, the camera comes out specifically because the two of them are so precious together.

Since the day we brought him home, she has sung to him when he's crying and begged to play with him when he's not. I spend a good portion of each day reminding her to back away from his face and give him some space because she just NEEDS to be so very close to him. His face lights up when he sees her. He works to get her attention. They delight in making each other laugh.

Some of their best times are in the morning. Maybe it's because they met in the morning...

less than 2 hours after his birth

Whatever the reason, I'll take it. I'll take the bond, the sweetness, the smiles...

1 week

2 weeks

4 weeks

6 weeks

9 weeks

12 weeks

OH that love!

What a blessing. Thank you Lord for the smiles! The smiles see me through the rest of it... except maybe the sleep deprivation. Nothing can see you through sleep deprivation except sleep, sleep and more sleep. If you happen to have any extra sleep, please send it right over. You can even send it C.O.D.

Baby Boy

Alec Douglas arrived SEVEN weeks ago! He is perfect and healthy. I am recovering nicely. Don and Lily Ruth are over-the-moon happy, and both have been immeasurably loving and helpful. I have been unable until now to find time to sit down and write this out, but with the help of the notes I made at the time (excellent forethought!), here is his birth story:

This is a looong and mildly graphic story of childbirth - you have been warned.

Aside from the gallbladder surgery, and a few weeks of prodromal labor, my pregnancy was pretty uneventful, and very healthy. Because of the prodromal labor (more intense than Braxton-Hicks, but tapers off before becoming full-blown labor), my midwife group did not expect me to make it to my due date. Imagine our surprise when I showed up for my 40 week appointment ;-) After a membrane sweep and an hour or so of monitoring (Alec's heart rate was low when she checked it, but leveled out nicely while being monitored), I was sent home to wait until he was ready to show.

The following week, I was standing in the kitchen (right around 3 pm) making a snack for Lily Ruth when my water broke :-O It was truly an odd sensation. Not a huge gush, but unmistakable for anything else. I cleaned myself up and explained to a very curious Lily Ruth what happened ("remember how we discussed that baby Alec was growing inside a water balloon in my belly? Well, that balloon broke because it's time for him to come out!").  Lily Ruth insisted that we all put on green. Green dresses for Mama and Lily Ruth. Green shirt for Daddy. I took one last picture of my baby belly:

I called the midwife on-call for that night to give her a heads up. She congratulated us and reminded me that it was a waiting game now. If contractions started and seemed to be increasing in intensity and frequency, I could labor at home for up to 24 hours. If contractions didn't start, she wanted to see me at the hospital by 6 a.m. For those who do not already know this - hospitals do NOT like for women with broken water bags to hang out for more than 24 hours without delivering the baby. They become increasingly nervous about the baby and/or the mother developing an infection once that protective bubble breaks.

Lily Ruth began telling stories about being pregnant with her daughter Penny and having her "membranes swept last Saturday". I was still slightly leaking amniotic fluid, and definitely felt a new and more intense pressure on my pubic bone.

We hung out at home for a while. No contractions.

5 pm - I decided that I wanted cookies (!?). Using dough from the freezer, Lily Ruth and I made sugar cookies. Then I made buttercream icing - from scratch. Not a huge effort, but delightfully distracting :-)

6 pm - we decided to walk the neighborhood. There was a storm coming in, and I wanted the pressure change to have it's full effect on my laboring process. We watched the beautiful black clouds roll in, and felt a few small raindrops, but I only had a few small contractions. Not the real thing yet!

We had dinner, got Lily Ruth packed and ready,

and delivered her to the Homestead to spend the night. No contractions.

9 pm - we went to bed around . We watched t.v. and stared into space. No contractions. Don fell asleep around 11 p.m. I fell asleep around 1 a.m. Don woke up around 1:30 a.m. and moved out to the living room. I woke up around 3:30 a.m. and joined him. No contractions. We stared at BBC America for a while.

4 am -Don couldn't take it any more. "We should just get ready and go to the hospital." I agreed. We ate (lightly), finished packing, dressed and wandered to the car. Still no contractions.

5:30 am - We checked in to the hospital, and were settled into a labor suite. No triage for me since my water had already broken. Lauren (the midwife) came in to talk about our options. Basically, my options were 1) pitocin now or 2) pitocin later (pitocin is a synthetic hormone that induces uterine contractions). She explained that since my labor had not already started on it's own, it was unlikely to do so before the 24-hour cut off. We were welcome to hang out in our delivery suite until 3 p.m. and start the pitocin then, but the longer we waited, the more nervous the pediatrician and nursery team would become. It would be more likely that they would keep Alec for observation. She also reminded us that we would be unlikely to really rest between now and then, therefore we would not get any less tired than we already were. We voted for pitocin now, and called my parents to join us.

6:30 am -The pitocin was started at it's lowest level (a 2).  It was supposed to be monitored and probably increased every 15-30 minutes until my body established a regular contraction pattern. Luckily for me, it was time for a shift change, and they forgot to increase my pitocin level until later. With the shift change, we lost Lauren, and gained Amy. The great part about this midwife practice is that by the time you deliver, you are comfortable with all of the midwives. It is a blessing to have any one of them deliver your baby.

6:43 am - My first contraction hit. It was INTENSE. I had to stop talking to breathe and use my low tones when each one came on. They were immediately 5 minutes apart and gradually became stronger. Because of the pitocin, Alec and I were both being continuously monitored, so I was unable to leave the hospital bed to labor. I had forgotten that this would happen. I was disappointed about being stuck in the bed, but I felt like I was holding up pretty well so far...

8:15 am - A nurse came in and increased the level of the pitocin to a 4. My contractions moved to 2-3 minutes apart, and became even more intense. I could feel quite a bit of pressure in my low back, so we called the nurse back in.

8:50 am - I "demanded" that the nurse turn off the pitocin. I had decided that enough was enough of that awful stuff. It was obvious that my contractions were consistent and increasing. The pitocin was turned off, and the midwife was called in to check my progress.

When Amy checked me, I was only 5 cm dilated (and had a bulging forebag of water?!). I had expected a lot more in the way of dilation. She mentioned that she expected the rest of my labor to progress quickly, and said that she would check in on me soon.

My contractions increased in intensity again. I had my support team (Don, Mom and Dad) raise the head of the bed as high as it would go. Then I draped my laboring self across the top and held on for dear life. Low tones were harder to maintain. Amy came back into the room and asked if I wanted to labor on the ball for a while. Since the pitocin was off and the monitors on me and Alec looked good, I was now allowed to leave the hospital bed!

After quite a bit of maneuvering, I was on the ball and leaning against the bed. Amy spent about 15 minutes watching me handle contractions, then she excused herself to check on other mamas and to check in at her office (across the parking lot). Soon after she left, the contractions increased in intensity again. I was having a much harder time controlling my breathing and using any kind of tone. Something that Amy said earlier while watching me came to the front of my mind: "it's just the baby coming down." I began repeating "It's not scary, it's just the baby" on a loop during each contraction and visualizing our boy moving down and out safely. I was holding Don's hands across the bed and my mom and dad took turns applying counter-pressure to my low back... at least I think that's what was happening... all I know is that pressure was being applied, and I managed to yell "NOBODY BREATHE ON ME!" at some point... sorry, guys!

Contractions started coming with almost no break, and I felt my legs straighten me to almost a standing position. I found out the true meaning of pressure, and I yelled "I'm PUSHING" - because I was. Completely involuntarily. My mom raced out into the hall to find someone with medical knowledge to join us in the birthing suite - anyone! She found a nurse, and the room was soon bustling as the nursery nurses and the l&d nurses rushed to prepare the room.

A nurse told me that I needed to get back up on the bed. I told her no. I said that I couldn't. I looked Don in the eye and told him that I couldn't do this. It was too hard and it hurt too much. I knew that I was in transition, and it felt like it was happening FAST. I could feel our son moving out of my belly and preparing to make his entrance. I was trying to get on the bed, but the contractions were only seconds apart, and I felt unable to move during them, so I had very little time to make adjustments to my position before a new one hit. I made it onto the bed on my knees then held on to Don's neck and screamed into his shoulder for a few contractions. I knew that Amy wasn't back yet, and all of a sudden, I was 1) bound and determined not to have that baby with just some nurses that I had never met in attendance, 2) terrified that he was moving to fast, and I was about to tear, and 3) um... really afraid that I was going to poop. Ridiculous. All of it. If the baby is coming, there is almost no stopping it. Still, I held on to Don and refused to move from that spot. I changed from just screaming into his shoulder to yelling "NONONONONONONO." When queried as to why I was freaking out, I just said "I'm SCARED. This is too scary."

That's when Amy made it back. She very calmly let me know that she was there, and asked me why I was scared. I told her that I needed help. She said "I'm here to help you." I stopped yelling at everybody, and moved into a half-reclined position on the bed. I flipped out when they tried to hold a monitor on my belly for a moment to check on Alec - I had no idea how much the outside of my belly hurt until then!

I actively pushed for two contractions, and he began to crown. Amy asked me to wait. I told her I would try. I held through 1 or two contractions, then she told me I could push again. On the next push, his head delivered. My mom said that visually, it was stunning - just after his head appeared, his arm popped out. Alec had a nuchal arm (a hand that stayed directly next to his face during delivery)... um... it was really uncomfortable... on the next contraction, the rest of his body was delivered, and they handed him to me!

My first though was "he's so LITTLE!" I held him for several minutes until his umbilical cord stopped pulsing. Don cut the cord, and Alec was wrapped up and handed to his Daddy. Alec looked directly into Don's eyes and said "huh-WOW, huh-WOW" I said "I know, buddy! That was FAST!" From turning off the pitocin to holding our son, it was almost exactly 1 hour. My fears about tearing proved real. My fears of pooping were groundless ;-)

Don and my parents snapped pictures and stared in awe at that beautiful baby as Alec was weighed and measured. He was 7 pounds, 7 ounces and 19 3/4 inches long.

My mom almost refused to let my dad hold him. But her generous nature won out in the end. I DID remind her that he already had an alarm band on his ankle. If she tried to sneak him out to love on him all on her own, she'd be in biiiiiiiig trouble :-P

As soon as the after birth delightfulness was completed (a healthy placenta and only two tears requiring stitches), Don raced out to retrieve Lily Ruth. He was so excited, and we both wanted to share him with her as soon as possible!

While he was gone, I wandered into the bathroom to clean up before Lily Ruth returned. I didn't want the blood to scare her. Well, apparently I lost more blood than they thought, because I 'grayed out' in the bathroom. I felt it coming on, so I sat down until it passed. I was fine, but I was partially unresponsive when my mom and then my nurse tried to check on me through the door. Oh LORDY. That triggered a 'Code Yellow' (fall alert) in the labor and delivery ward. Nurses everywhere. An armed security guard at my door. Administrators with concerned faces... I had to tell a bazillion people that I did NOT fall - I sat down. My nurse (a timid, tiny thing), was shaky after that. Oi. Oh, and in the midst of it, Alec's security band came loose. After my 'warning', my mom was convinced that the guard was there to make sure she didn't try to leave with Alec.

Despite the insanity, I managed to get cleaned up and re-situated in the bed. Soon after, Lily Ruth raced into the room yelling "ALEC! ALEC DOUGLAS!" Her face upon meeting her brother was priceless.

Soon it was time to get ready for the move to my recovery room. I got up again to head into the bathroom. My nurse caught me as I tried to close the door. Dude - if she didn't want me doing things by myself, she shouldn't have left me alone! Ugh. I had to convince her NOT to call another code yellow when I mis-stepped then caught myself.

The remainder of our stay was uneventful. Just (a tiny bit of) resting, an intense amount of bonding, and all of it eased and aided by a truly wonderful staff.

All in all, it was amazing and scary and full of intense, incredible emotion. Our family is healthy and happy.