Sunday, September 27, 2009

a first

Holy cow,
A year always trips me out
Please tell me that time will slow down soon
Perhaps we'll have more chances to sit and celebrate
You and me.

Although this year has been
No picnic for its challenges
Nice things seem to come our way, and
I foresee
Very many more years together -
Eighty or so -
Rife with opportunities to work on
Strengthening all we have
And growing more beautiful as a family
Right here
You and me.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

look ma, no diapers!!

Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

eLLe - summer 2009

Dear Luciya,

Happy first day of Fall!

As we all know, I'm nutty crazy about Autumn. It makes me want to fling my fat-bellied self out into the crisp mornings and sing about the corn being as high as an elephant's eye. Which is an improvement over recent morning attitudes. So, let us take a moment to give homage to Autumn and its promise of lovely days ahead.

This summer was fun and hot and busy and full. The last two weeks of July, you took swimming lessons with your friend Eliza, and to this day, two months later, it's much of what you want to talk about. "I go kick kick kick. I blow bubbles, Moooooooo. I splash splash splash. Go swimming lessons? Go see Eliza? Need put on suit." You absolutely loved swimming lessons, and you learned a ton. By the end you could hold your head under water for five whole seconds as you kicked and pedaled to me, and Miss Amber, the instructor, said that if she didn't know better she'd have thought you'd been in the water since you were six months old. You get that from you dada, kid. Let's run with it.

Your hair is long and lovely, and I'm dedicated to getting your bangs grown out. I've come super close to just chopping them again, but I've held strong and I think it's going to be worth it in the end. Your hair is down to your shoulder blades, with beautiful ringlets at the very end. It does get in your face, and you do take out your ponies and clips, but for now, it's here to stay.

I can't believe what a big girl you are. We are having so much fun! (Okay, for the most part. You are also quite the "spirited child," and can be unbelievable ornery and argumentative and spicy and berserk. But your loviness and willingness to hug, and cute toothed smile almost always make up for it). It has just been such a joy to move from baby to little girl, and to be able to have small conversations with you, and have little mother-daughter dates, and to leave you comfortably to your own toys and games for minutes at a time.

Swimming lessons, a Stroller Strides water class, and hot, hot weather turned you into quite the water baby this summer. You love all things wet and wild. Emphasis on wild, since you are... you.

This summer has also seen you turn into Jabbertalky McGee. Talk and talk and talk. It's so stinkin' cute and adorable and heart-wrenching. You have the sweetest little voice ever. For the most part, everything you say is fairly easily discernible... at least to me. We went out to check the mail yesterday, and our neighbor was checking her mail, too. You wanted to talk to her, so I had to translate the following fascinating information: "I just wake up. I wear animal jammies! I had a little poop." Good stuff.

Like I said, for the most part you're pretty easy to understand. But then there are the few words that I simply cannot decipher, and there are the words that are simply hilariously pronounced. Smoothie = "fa-movie." And Popsicle? Well:

[Video embedding isn't working right now; see it here.]

Your big sister Eryn was here for a couple weeks in August, and you still talk about riding on the paddle boats with her. Eryn is doing great in COLLEGE HOLY COW, and working very hard at McDonald's. Keep it up, Eryn! You're amazing!

This summer has been the summer of HUGE, GIGANTIC accomplishments. We started potty training the weekend you turned 27 months old, so that means it's been just over two months since you've worn diapers outside the bed. We've had a couple accidents, one in the stroller and 3 or four while camping over labor day, but over all it's been a natural, normal progression. Then, less than a month later, we tossed the binky. We'd been using it only in the crib for naps and bedtime, and on August 14th I looked at it, torn and shredded as it was, and asked you, "Can we throw this in the garbage?" And you nodded, and helped me toss it. And that was the end of that. No more nuks nuks. Done. Gone. Not another word about it. Pretty amazing, really, since I couldn't imagine you falling asleep without on for more than two years.

Now, we're working on the Big Girl Bed. Great Grammy had a double bed in her old house that she no longer needs since she's living a couple blocks away at Spring Creek, so we took it, got some bed rails and bright new bedding, and went for it. This week, you've slept in it at night four times. Two of those nights have gone surprisingly well, and two of those nights I've had to let my heart fall out my eyes a couple times to let you cry it out. I always end up going back in, and lying with you because I don't want this transition to be a traumatic one. But it's a transition that had to happen, because a couple weeks ago you figured out how to fling yourself out of your crib, and then fling yourself over the gate to your room, and then fling yourself all over the house. You are a tenacious one, Luciya. You are one tenacious little monkey.

And naps have therefore proven impossible in the big girl bed, because it's daylight and you have free range of your whole, entire room! So, in utter napless frustration after 4 days without a nap, I huffed to the Baby Depot and bought a tent for the crib, which is now in the baby's room, and that's where you're sleeping as we speak. In your tented crib. In the baby's room.

Baby steps. And overall, I consider you to be a summer wonder child, since you have officially accomplished all three big girl steps I wanted to see you accomplish before Baby's arrival: potty trained, binky-less, and in a big girl bed. Unbelievable. You make a mama proud.

And here you are just chatting away with me. I love when you start singing your ABCs: "A-B-C-D-E-F-D-enda, enda, A-B-C-D-E-F-D..."

[See video here]

You rock my world, kid. Here's to many, many more delightful summers.

I love you, Luciya!



Thursday, September 17, 2009

maybe baby

Baby #2 would be due in a few days. I think that's what's going on here. Sadness Overload. Depression Drama. Stressface. Captain Angst and her Platoon of Wailing Martyrs. Lonely Sobber and the Heavy Queazies. Blurred Vision in the Valley of Little Hope. Raging Hormones Against the Machine. Guilty Conscious and her Magical Troup of Brow-Beating Woe-Slingers. The Shriveled Bawler on the Tightrop of Uncertainty. Miss Understood Trudges the Hallways of Despair. Wallowfoot Lowrider.

And our number one smash hit, "Help My Face (One Minute of Sanity)".

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

this has been a difficult pregnancy

There, I said it.

So, let the pity party commence.

I am an emotional wreck. My hormones are all over the place, which usually means in a not-so-pleasant place. This evening was kind of the cream of the crop, when I had a break down in Fred Meyer. There I was in the salsa aisle, sobbing, with Luciya in the car cart (we have to have a car cart so she can drive every time), saying "Whatsa matta, Mama? Mama.... Maaaamaaaaaa, whatsa matta, Mama?" Classic. I felt like the woman in that tv commercial from the 80s, where the pot is boiling over, the baby is screaming, the telephone is ringing, and the calm woman's voice comes on and says, "Stop. Count to ten."

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

I feel like, when I was pregnant with Luciya, everything was rosy and ecstatic and blissful and easy, and I'm sure there were times when I was uncomfortable, or tired, or nervous, or scared, but overall I remember it as a visit to Cloud 9.

This time around has been much, much more difficult. Right off the bat I've been scared silly, frankly, because it happened so soon after the loss of baby number 2. Add to that the constant exhaustion and queasiness, and now at 21 weeks, the onset of sciatica. Really? Already? Man, I didn't get sciatica with Luciya until well into the 3rd trimester. Doesn't help that I pulled my back today something fierce when I was organizing the garage.


And, I've been working like a fiend. There, I said that, too. I work a lot. Every day. And even if I'm not at my 8:00 a.m. BNI meeting or teaching a Stroller Strides class or helping John with the property management business or being a full time mommy (which, on the two days a week John works doubles at the bar, is a killa, I'm just saying. I love my child, but sometimes I wish I could go outside after her bedtime and enjoy a frosty margarita), I'm busy. There's always something that needs to be done. And I'm tired! I know, wah. I know. And I know that I honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

I love to work. I LOVE it. I can't imagine not working, choosing not to work. And nothing gets my goat more these days than laziness, or apathy, or waiting for the world to change for you. Because if I can get all this done, then anyone can. There, I said that, too. Even if we won the lottery - which John brings up about once a week - I know I would still work. I like to feel accomplished, and busy and bustling, and like I'm doing my best. And like I'm making a difference.

And I'm so, so blessed to be able to hold jobs that make me feel happy and fulfilled. Motherhood, for one. It's all I've dreamed about since I was wee. And Stroller Strides... thank Goddess for Stroller Strides. I truly look forward to class every day, and to seeing the beautiful mamas and delightful babies that are in my classes. How lucky am I? I KNOW. And, I get to leave class feeling so great physically. Even though I'm starting to slow down a bit. And the ol' uterus is starting to flop around during jumping jacks.

Oh, uterus of mine. You have made your presence known. Luciya kept trying to scoot closer to me tonight while sitting on my lap during story time. Sorry, kid, the lap is slowly on its way out.

Oh, Luciya. Oh, terrible, sensitive, tragic, delightful, high-strung, beautiful, two year old, Luciya. Today she purposely dumped an entire glass of water on the floor. Twice. In a row. On purpose. And then screamed and screamed and screamed. And flailed and kicked and screamed. She feels my angst, and when we are alone together, just the two of us, all... day... long..., I'm sure she is apt to be quite sensitive. Which only makes me feel more like the world's Most Awesome Mom.


Let the phone call from my mother commence in 3...2...1....

But let's move on to the bright side, okay? Sheesh. Why you'd want to stay in Wallowville is beyond me. Upwards and onwards, I say. Life, in general, is pretty effing awesome.

Hence, the profile of Button Nose, which we saw on 09-09-09:

Awwwww, who's a cutie-patoodie?! And quite the tiny dancer, too. Throughout the entire ultrasound, s/he had the hiccups, and was moving and shaking so much that it was sometimes hard for the tech to take her measurements. But the tech is incredibly skilled, and we didn't get the slightest peek of what is between those legs. Not that I was looking. No way. I'm all about the surprise. Though, at Fred Meyer's Baby Sale tonight, cute little hooded fleece sleepers were 60% off. Flowered or blue and brown - a really cute bringing-home-baby look. I'm just saying.

(If anything, the surprise factor is great for my wallet.)

Button Nose continues to shake and wiggle and roam and glide, which is by far the coolest thing about this pregnancy. I love feeling those crazy movements. It's so surreal. And the idea that this is most likely my last pregnancy makes me want to hold onto these sweet moments and cherish them like you would any other memory that you know will be over all too soon.

And I realize that before we all know it, Button Nose will be here, and everything will be so different, and so amazing, and I'll be able to say - to KNOW - that all of this is entirely worth it, and that I am just so fortunate on so many levels, not the least of which is having the blessed ability to grow and carry this healthy baby inside of me.

So. Breathe. In and out. Count to ten. Stay focused. Get ready.

Tomorrow is another day.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

scene from dsi: dog scene investigation

This is just one of the fun photos from our recent trip to Eastern Oregon for our annual Labor Day trip with the Highlands. You can see more pictures here.

Most of the pictures are of the terrific two-year-old twosome, Jenner and Luciya. It has been an amazing experience to watch them grow together over the past few summers at the Spread!