What are you looking at?

For he's a jolly good fellow

Nathan's second birthday was a picture-perfect day.

Our January 31st started bright and early with breakfast followed by PRESENTS!

 

He and Kara adore jigsaw puzzles, but Nathan is especially smitten, so Luke and I stocked up on a few of those (the 24- and 48-piece Melissa and Doug ones are my favorite) and thew in some books for good measure. Man, am I grateful for how easy it is to please toddlers when it comes to gifts.

The day continued with a prohibited picnic lunch at an Indy-area park.

 

In my defense, I had called the facility ahead of time like a good little park enthusiast to ask about a suitable place to eat our food and was easily directed to the nature center; however, we were hit in the face with "No food and drink allowed" signs immediately upon entering the building. So Luke and I felt a bit like rebels here. I was stuffing plasticware into our picnic basket as fast as we could empty it. Totally worth it, though. The kids were captivated by the view.

 

After lunch, we spent a considerable portion of the afternoon camped out in the children's activity center, which featured small animals in tanks, toys, books, games, and puppets. And since it was a Monday, we had the whole place to ourselves.

 

Look, a toad! Their knowledge of toads is limited to the aptly named character in one of Kara's favorite series, but they were pretty taken with this one.

 

The insect bucket was also a huge hit.

 

HUGE. As was the owl puppet Nathan is clutching here.

 

LOOK MOM A PUZZLE CAN YOU BELIEVE IT.

 

Nathan would not enter this cave. Would. not. do it, and in fact felt the need to confirm this decision on multiple occasions for the duration of our time: "You don't have to go in the cave if you don't want to, riiight?"

 

Kara, meanwhile, had no such reservations. That's my girl.

 

We wrapped up the day with snickerdoodles and a wagon ride through the park, which lasted all of ten minutes because Nathan didn't like his cookie and didn't want to stay in the wagon but didn't want to walk and he was too wiggly for me to carry and he was fighting Luke tooth and nail. Clearly he was suffering from an unfortunate yet common toddler condition known as Dude, where's my nap? itis. We promptly left the park to oblige.

 

The day could end no other way, of course, except with cake. Nathan doesn't actually care much for cake and typically only takes a few obligatory bites when it's placed in front of him -- it's like he knows he should go batshit crazy over this delectable combination of carbs and sugar and doesn't want to disappoint his peers. However, he adores the idea of cake, and it was all he asked about in the days leading up to his big day.

"You can have cake on your birthday, riiight?"

"It can have candles?"

"You can have letters on it, riiight?"

Luke, the maker and baker of all edible goods in our household, did not disappoint.

 

Like I said, picture-perfect day.

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One weekday morning last week, Luke and I were still in bed when I heard the sound of rustling through the baby monitor we still keep in Nathan's room. Then, a few minutes later:

"Daaaaddy.... Daaaaddy...."

Silence, then:

"Daddy, I pooped my pants."

[pause]

"It was a big poop."

Luke got up to investigate, but there was no number two in sight. Probable culprit? Flatulence. Honest mistake. Could've happened to anyone.

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He loves to count but often forgets the number five. He's an easy-going eater but rarely drinks all of his milk. He often asks to sit on the potty before bedtime and has even gone once. His current favorite book is an I Spy compilation Kara received for Christmas, and he is insanely good at identifying all the objects, sometimes more quickly than Kara. He loves to help and is quick to throw out a "Sure!" whenever I ask him to put away his trucks or help Mommy pick up blocks. He loves trucks and trains and dinosaurs and his Build-A-Bear panda. He is more articulate than a lot of toddlers his age I've seen but still has adorable pronounciations that mark his still-visible babyhood, like "meelt" for milk and "bannas" for "bananas," and "Kara" often sounds like "Tara," with a bit of an East coast accent. He's a demanding child when he's got his eye on something, and it's not uncommon to hear him shout out commands like "I want my meelt!" or "I want ranch, Mommy!" He's also very loving and is generous with thank-yous for even the simplest of tasks.

He soaks up his time with Kara and constants seeks out her feedback and companionship. "Hey, Kara, come play trucks with me!" "Let's play with the doctor set, Kaaara!" His favorite songs to sing are "A Bushel and a Peck" and "You Are My Sunshine." He loves to dance to "the Energy song, Mommy!" and will shout "Be! Be! Energy!" as he skips in circles during the chorus. He STILL hates having his diaper changed and is not a fan of brushing his teeth. He enjoys finger painting and coloring and playing the new Goodnight, Moon game received at his and Kara's joint birthday party last month. His cheeks are so soft it's impossible not to shower them with kisses. He's a daddy's boy in many respects but thankfully still likes to cuddle with Mommy. Though cuddling is for daytime hours only; he has yet to want to sleep in bed with Luke and me. Good thing, too, seeing as it's crowded enough what with HIS OLDER SISTER thrashing about a handful of nights per week.

How many ways can I say it? He is amazing; amazing! It blows my mind to think that soon he'll play big brother to another little guy just like him. Except that nobody will ever be quite like Nathan.

 

Happy birthday, buddy. We love you.

Video courtesy of Luke and the outdated Photoshop Elements program on our computer.

Three is different from two

As is two and a half, and two and seven months, and two and eleven months. Life, it is like a river, what with all the ebbs and flows and and rapid changes, and while the water is often delightful, there are many times throughout each day where I feel like HOLY CRAP, THIS RIVER IS KILLING ME.

This entry has been so difficult to write (hence, why it is also more than a month late) because Kara is not a baby anymore, and my interactions with her feel more intensely personal than when my primary concerns as a mother were breast or bottle, stroller or baby carrier, and cry-it-out or rock-it-out. We have in-depth conversations now about her friends Jack and Mary and Phil and Gertrude and how they like to go on picnics and ice skate in the dining room and Mommy, they are very nice, and oh yes, their parents are nice, too. We sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" at bedtime, and when I come home from work she likes to come upstairs with me while I change into my sweat pants, and once I hit the closet, she cries out, "Hooray! You get to see your mommy again!" and runs to throw her arms around my legs. Last month, while reading one of our Christmas books and talking about Mary and Joseph being Jesus' parents, Kara said, "Mommy? Do I have parents?" Also, "Can I have a Christmas Day?"

Her ability to rationalize and think through a situation never ceases to amaze me. She is so smart, so thoughtful. I love her just as much as I did when she was a baby, but I appreciate her more as I discover more about the person she is and imagine who she will become, with all her contradictions, complexities, and surprises.

However, she has also reached an age where she can be held accountable for some of her actions and can more directly impact the dynamics of our relationship - intentional or otherwise. Meanwhile, I have reached the stage as a parent where my cognitive skills and foresight have become critical to all of us having a good day. 

Before we hit this stage, Luke and I talked a lot about how we would handle issues from a discipline standpoint, and we both agreed that for our family, spanking/hitting is not a resource we care to add to our parenting toolbox. However, as a kid, I was hit all the time, for all kinds of reasons - meaning I have no personal experience with time-outs or anything resembling non-violence until I was too old for that sort of thing, and even then, there was still lots of yelling and little to none of that sit-down-at-the-kitchen-table-for-a-loving-but-firm-conversation-about-your-actions ala Full House or Family Ties.

In other words, I am totally winging this, relying on nothing but my own instincts, my ability to effectively communicate with my husband, knowledge and tips gleaned from numerous mommy blogs, and random episodes of Super Nanny.

Case in point: On the day of Kara's actual birthday, Luke and I planned to celebrate by taking her to Build-A-Bear. We had it all planned out: pick her up from school, drive the 45 minutes to the overcrowded mall where the store resided, let her pick out any animal she wanted (along with a few accessories), have a treat in the food court, and drive home for dinner and cake. Easy peasy, and heartwarming memories. Double score!

Actual turn of events: Pick her up from school. Drive the 45 minutes to Build-A-Bear. Spend TWO HOURS in the store as Kara bounced from area to area, touching all the unstuffed animal shells, claiming to want everything from the brown bunny to the blue bear to the gray owl but then promptly melting down when we tried to guide her to the stuffing machine. She wanted everything, and wanted nothing. It was an incurable bout of Indecision, with no cure in sight; if anything, they become more frequent as time goes on.

Anyway, the pivotal moment came when, after Luke and I suggested we visit another store to pick out something different, Kara threw herself down on the floor kicking and screaming and I had to carry her outside of the store. Together we sat to the side of the entrance, me holding her on my lap and repeating, "It's okay, it's okay," while she wiggled and cried and passersby looked down on us with wide eyes and that disapproving expression of, "Does that mother not know how to control her own child?" One woman actually came up to me to suggest ADDITIONAL WAYS to restrain my child. That was especially appreciated.

Eventually, though, Kara did calm down and settle on an animal to take home. The winner? Hello Effing Kitty. Surrounded by adorable furry creatures of all types and colors and she goes after the most commercial of the bunch. And it's not like she even knew who Hello Kitty was; apparently, it was love at  seventy-millionth first sight.

And because our little Nathan was such a champ during the entire ordeal, we let him get something, too. He selected the black-and-white panda bear you see in the picture below and couldn't have been sweeter about it.

 

"Honey, are you SURE you don't want to reconsider? Maybe select a doll that doesn't make your mother's toes curl with disdain?"

 

She was sure.

Afterwards, because we left the mall so much later than planned and because we had no energy left to prepare anything at home, Luke and I took the kids to a nearby Mexican restaurant for dinner.

 

Wearing a happy face once again (both of them).

 

That night a surprise visitor made a special appearance, which delighted the children to no end. He, Mrs. Claus, and several elves were seated at a table directly across the room from us, and Kara and Nathan could not keep their eyes off them. And that's actually how they preferred him - at arm's length, as evidenced by this picture.

 

Ending the day on a brighter note.

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Kara's birthday didn't go at all how we planned, and it certainly wasn't fun to work through a tantrum in front of a crowd of strangers, but as we move through the Year of Three, I hope that more often than not I will be able to draw strength from that experience and remember how much of the outcome depended on my willingness to stay in control and not give in to the frustration that was building up inside of me. I'm not proud of the scene she caused, but I'm not embarrassed by how I handled it, either, and for me, that is the most important thing in the end. When all is said and done, the setbacks experienced in any given day become less important than my living, breathing response to them. I can't control my children's actions, but I can control my own, and commit to doing better when I fail.

Happy belated birthday, sweeheart.

(As always, mad props to Luke for the birthday video.)

One year, again

For Kara's first birthday, I spent all night sizing pictures in Photoshop and racking my brain to extract stand-out moments for each month of her life. It only took three weeks for me to write her birth story - a four-part, minute-by-minute installment no less. I filled a quarter of her baby book by the time she turned eight weeks old. In other words, I've never had a problem formally documenting her life.

Yet I've been chewing on this post all weekend.

Originally I planned to weave my thoughts into a twelve-month update like I did for Kara's two-year post, but seeing as I published his eleven-month update just last week, I'm not exactly drowning in material there. Then I thought it might be a good time to finally write his birth story, except I haven't been able to purge more than a few sentences before I'm  breaking into a cold sweat because I DON'T REMEMBER EVERYTHING and my observations from the hospital aren't as detailed as they were with Kara. A freaking year ago, and still I need more time.

It's a hard pill for me to swallow, the fact that Kara's received so much literary fanfare while Nathan waits patiently for me to get my act together. I know he's only a toddler (a toddler!) and doesn't care a whit about such things; as a boy, he may never even ask about his baby book, but I am his mother and it matters to me. I made time for these rituals for Kara. Why is it so hard for me to do the same for him?

Trying to answer that question could very well eat me alive, so instead of rushing into some neatly packaged entry just to bring my son up to par with his sister, I'm just going to say what's in my heart.

Which is this: I have an amazing boy. Amazing! He is walking and chattering and eating pizza and drinking milk and just this afternoon we donned him in winter gear and pulled him around in a sled in the backyard. A year ago I couldn't have imagined this day, I was just nervous and excited to have another baby, and it was impossible to fathom that one day he would grow up to be older, to not be a baby, to become his own unique person instead of "just" my second child. I knew the basics of dealing with a newborn, I dreamed about the kids being eight and nine and the four of us having incredible adventures, but I have never been able to see Nathan as any age older than what he is. Even now with hair brushing his forehead and four teeth fighting to break through his top gums, I can't picture what he'll be like at two years old, or even eighteen months. I can see Kara, sort of, probably because she's a girl and bears such a strong resemble to me, but also because for as long as I wanted to be a mother, I have visualized having a daughter. Everything about Nathan - from his personality down to his very conception - has been a wonderful, complicated surprise.

To be honest, though, sometimes complicated outweighed the wonderful. Those first few months were some of the hardest of my life. Before Nathan was born, Luke and I thought we had it all figured out, having already parented one baby and experiencing all the ups and downs of that tumultuous first year. We knew we didn't have to follow every single piece of advice doled out by a medical professional, knew the importance of sleeping when the baby sleeps, knew it was okay to trust our gut on which routines and choices would best work for our family. What we didn't know was how truly easy we had it with Kara - her willingness to sleep, her ease in taking to the bottle, her acceptance of having her diaper changed without breaking glass with the volume of her cries. And on top of all that he was screamy and gassy and I was already paralyzed with guilt over not wanting to nurse anymore and we weren't sure if it was the formula or the bottle or what. All that knowledge gleaned from Kara and still we had to start over.

 

If you can't beat 'em, sob with 'em.

But it was a good lesson to learn, that parenting will always humble you, that children in the same family can be different in ways you never expected and battling through each challenge will make you appreciate their individuality even more. Nathan didn't sleep like Kara, didn't read like Kara, didn't even grow like Kara, but his character traits have been equally endearing nonetheless. His vocabulary at twelve months is larger than Kara's was at a year and a half; he's more adventurous with new foods (so far, anyway) and more spirited overall, thriving in chaos and noise, especially if he's the one making it.

I may not document all his quirks and mannerisms as often as I should, or even remember important facts as vividly as I should, but oh, my goodness, do I love my little boy. I love his bright smile and grabby fingers and cuddly neck and infectious hyena-like laugh. I love that he wants to sit on my lap at dinnertime even if keeping him from turning over my plate turns into an Olympic event. I love that he clings to me so much despite us being apart for such a large chunk of the work week.

Have I told you how much I love my son?

Happy birthday, Nathan, my favorite little handsome.

Month One

 

 

 

Month Two

  

Month Three

 

Month Four

 

 

Month Five  

 

 

Month Six

 

 

 

Month Seven

 

 

 

Month Eight 

 

 

Month Nine

 

 

 

Month Ten

  

 

 

Month Eleven 

  

 

 

Month Twelve (aka today)

 

And last but not least...

The One-Year Recap

And what a year it was.

My eleven-month-old...

… walks! Unless he's in a major hurry to get to some book or toy, Nathan is on his feet for the majority of the day. With his baby pot belly and bow-legged stride, he looks like a little muscle man parading around the house.
 
… had his last drop of formula on Martin Luther King Day, when Luke and I introduced whole milk instead of buying another container of Similac. Nathan took to it like a champ, and other than finishing his bottles more readily, we haven't noticed anything different, so there you go. Chapter closed. A tiny part of me is sad that he's taking this big-boy step already, but my bank account has no complaints.

… went from drinking five formula bottles a day to three milk bottles in a span of two weeks. He was fighting the mid-morning one something fierce, which was also the first to go for Kara, so it was quickly replaced with a snack and sippy cup of water. Since he was giving us similar problems at bedtime, we skipped that one, too, and offered water instead, which he accepted just fine. We increased the amount of milk he gets at meals to make up for the reduction in frequency, and again, golden. What this child has cost us in REM sleep he is slowly making up for in the eating department.

... sports two teeth on his top gums.
 
…is a chatterbox and makes sounds resembling "kitty," "cat," "duck," "dog," "puppy," "bunny," "night-night," "no," and other random words Luke and I are still deciphering. He’s been saying "mama" and "dada" for a while now, and he's also fond of "bop." If you think this is adorable, you would be right.
 
… enjoys playing with mega blocks, his Laugh and Learn puppy, Kara's tea set, and the figurines from her fire truck. He's also a big fan of trying to choke himself with the utensils from the play kitchen he and Kara received from Auntie Samantha and Uncle Dan at Christmas.

... loves to splash around in the tub.
 
… is more enthusiastic about reading, especially the books Bear Snores On, Little Bear's Bedtime, Barnyard Dance!, Big Dog, Little Dog, The Fire Engine Book, Can You Cuddle Like a Koala?, Good Night, Little Bear, The Foot Book, and the Animal Babies series.

... freaks out over snowmen and loved pointing to the gel window clings we had fastened to the sliding glass door.

... is now rocking the convertible car seat. I can't believe the Chicco lasted as long as it did - almost a year! We didn't make the switch until New Year's before our drive up north, and it was only due to his length; weight-wise, he was still well within the acceptable range. Nathan prefers this new arrangement much better, the extra space and increased visibility during travel, but his feet are cramped against the back seat, so we're counting the days until we can finally turn him around.
 
… gets a skin rash from raspberries.
 
… will eat just about any kind of table food you put in front of him. He loves sampling from our plates and goes wild until we share.
 
… is mesmerized by snow.
 
… likes to pounce on Kara and pull on her hair during diaper changes.

... continues to fight his own diaper changes, especially on the changing table. You'd think we were pulling his toe nails off one by one without anesthesia, he gets so upset.
 
… can crawl up the staircase fairly well (but never without supervision).

... still has a blank baby book. Seeing as his eleven-month update posted a week before his first birthday and his birth story still only exists in my head, I'm guessing you're not surprised.

... celebrated his big day with cake and presents three weeks early.

... is finally getting easier to manage when it comes to bedtime. He allows us to put him in the crib awake most of the time, and though he does fuss for a couple of minutes, he will go to sleep. He still goes down faster for Luke, though, and I continue to struggle with naptime, but it means so much to me to share the last few minutes of his day without choking back expletives while he thrashes against my chest. Now he wraps his arms around my neck and buries his face into me, and I tell you what, there is nothing better.

 

Contemplating life's mysteries as revealed in That's Not My Snowman!

 

A struggle-free diaper change? For serious? Momma, you crazy.

 

Mega (blocks) Man.

 

They're cousins, identical cousins (almost - in height, at least).

 

You want a piece of me and my turtle, on which I love to sit but have no semblance of control?

 

Evidence. 

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And finally, footage of my wittle baybee walking (sob). So amazing, such a miracle, he is. How can he go and turn ONE on me? Be still, my heart.

My two-year-old... (she'll make her way)

... made pee-pee in the potty this month! It happened last Monday while I was at work (of course) during her regularly scheduled potty time with Luke. It was much in terms of volume, but he said that afterwards she was so taken aback by the experience she totally freaked out. There have been no repeat performances since then, but her interest is definitely piqued.

... still relies heavily on a lovey for naps and bedtime. Bunny came to us when she was around six months old and originally purchased as a back-up for a similar stuffed animal she received from Luke's brother's family when they came to meet her at the hospital. We wanted to be prepared in case it ever got lost or destroyed in the wash, but instead of keeping it in a safe place we tossed it into one of her toy bins, even switching out the bunnies at bedtime occasionally to make sure she was equally comfortable with both. Somewhere along the way she became more attached to the back-up bunny, and now he's just Bunny and she loves him with the passion of a thousand love letters. Not even Nathan at his young age favors anything as much as Kara does Bunny. God help us the day we leave him behind in Chicago or drop him at a rest stop, because isn't that just the way?

... has expanded her vocabulary beyond simply picking up new words; now she's stringing them together to make simple phrases, among them being "stay home" and "no froggies" (courtesy of Max and Ruby), "sit here, "night-night," "there you go," and "I sorry." And just today she said her first three-word sentence; when Luke inquired about Bunny's whereabouts, she replied, "There he is!"

... makes loops when she draws.

... always wants us to draw with her. Luke is known for owls, cats, and dogs, while I can be counted on for fish, flowers, and hearts. We both do letters, numbers, and shapes.

... seems to like the color blue best.

... is finally engaging in small talk on the phone. She's always had a thing for telephones, but now she'll actually say hello. Last week when I called from Tampa, she threw in a couple of "Mommas" just to tug at my heartstrings good and proper.

... remains a finicky eater. It's to the point that she will reject foods simply for the fact that they've been offered to her. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich can grow mold in front of her but becomes a hot commodity in the pieces coming from Luke's or my plate. Though last night at dinner she did attempt to eat corn off the cob. Breakfast food still remains the top fail-safe option for any meal of the day.

... is still missing two canines on her bottom gums.

... can get in and out of the tub without breaking her neck or needing too much help.

... wears size 3T pants and 4T shirts, mostly, depending on the brand (Carter's reigns supreme, thanks to the outlet store in close proximity to our old apartment).

... is learning to pick up afterself. She likes to help me wash off the crayon marks in the tub after bath time but needs more coaxing when it comes to putting her toys away.

... loves Little People play sets, as evidenced by her parents' choice of birthday gift and several of her Christmas presents.

... was so patient with Luke and me this year as we learned how to parent two small children and I regained my footing as a working mom taking on more responsibility. I'm so glad we have Nathan, and there are no regrets about their closeness in age at all, but I know he arrived earlier than siblings normally do and sometimes I wonder how different 2009 would have been for her had she remained an only child just a little bit longer. But what she's gained by having Nathan as a companion overrides any of the extra attention or experiences Luke and I would have given her without him in her life. That's not true for everyone, but it is for us. I know that now.

... continues to enjoy reading as much as she did when she was a baby. Current favorites include Snow, Bear Stays Up for Christmas, The Little Red Hen, The Best Nest, A Fish Out of Water, Let's Play in the Snow, Noodle Man: The Pasta Super Hero, My Big Girl Potty, Little Monster's Alphabet Book, Ten Apples Up on Top, and the original version of Where the Wild Things Are.

... still falls asleep to instrumental music every night.

... likes being tucked in.

... thinks Eskimo kisses are the funniest things on Earth and will swivel your face back and forth with her hands to get them on demand.

... recognizes every single letter of the alphabet.

... loves getting blanket rides back and forth in the living room (with Nathan in tow, of course). It's a little more taxing for her parents.

... will have a joint birthday party with Nathan in early January, which will also be taxing for her parents, but at least it'll be cheaper for them and less overall travel for their guests.

... still ends up in our bed several nights a week, sometimes as early as midnight, other times as late as four-thirty. Either way, from that point on, rare are the moments when actual REM sleep takes place because she'll start out at the end of our mattress (where Luke and I have a pillow waiting for her), then squeeze her way between us, then curl up in a ball on the floor, then come back to bed and jam her head into my side while draping her legs over Luke's hip. After all that, still she wakes up at whatever time I'm able to drag myself out of bed for work, always with a smile on her face, making a beeline for the master bathroom so she can rest her cheek on the toilet seat cover. (I don't know, either.) I feel like it should bother me, her constantly interrupting our sleep, but the truth is that I'm keenly aware of her growth and development these days and how fast time is passing, and I will take her physical closeness any way I can get it. Last night, just for a few minutes, her restlessness unexpectedly placed her right next to me, her neck resting on my arm, her body curled into mine, and for the first time since she was a baby, I was able to hold her to my chest without the constraints of a rocking chair. It may be her birthday, but I'm the one with the best gift a mother could ask for.

... is loved more than she will ever know.

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Enjoying crisp fall weather.

 

Playing with her brother. Observing their antics is one of my favorite pastimes.

Napping with Grandpa before Thanksgiving dinner.

 

Basking in the glory that is Max and Ruby.

Surrendering to kisses from Momma. 

The winning photo for our holiday card, thanks to our tripod and insanely good luck. This was the very first shot we took to benchmark positioning on the staircase. After that, bodies were twisted, faces were blocked, and there may have been screaming by a certain someone over Luke's attempt to wear a Santa hat. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to neither confirm nor deny these allegations.

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I want to say something deep and reflective here, but the words are catching in my throat. Motherhood is simultaneously the most rewarding and most frustrating job I will ever have in my life, and being the oldest, Kara plays a unique role in that. I will always be a rookie with her. She is my first baby, will be my first child out of diapers, first kindergartener, first slumber-party goer, first teenager. She opens my eyes to new ways of thinking, forces me to re-evaluate processes and goals when my patience is on the verge of running out and I'm not sure how to move forward. When she's thrashing about on the changing table because she suddenly can't stomach a diaper change, I have to pause and remember what I'm trying to accomplish--the goal isn't to restrain her and prove who's in charge. It's just to change her diaper. Yes. That basic.

It's not that Nathan doesn't inspire these feelings, too, because he does, but my reflections on his uniqueness are better suited for his birthday post next month (dear Lord, why are you doing this to me?). The difference is that Kara's the one catching my heart off-guard when I'm completely unprepared. As a result, I often find myself so overcome with emotion over each new milestone and each new challenge that I can't even put one foot in front of the other.

There's one thing, though, that isn't colored by her age for me, and that's my admiration of who she is at her core. Her headstrong personality, her affectionate nature, her very existence on this earth is cause for me to thank God every night. I am not perfect, but what I lack in grace I try to make up in gratitude and a willingness to learn how to do better. And that started with her.

Happy birthday, baby.

(Video courtesy of Luke, as usual. Amazing job, honey.)

Looking for my easy button (your mom's easy!)

Ever since posting my dream list, I keep coming back to the gaping disconnect between many of them in terms of importance. Short-term is one thing, but come on. Something about mentioning "Organizing my filing cabinet" in the same breath as visiting a foreign country or, saying, ADOPTING A CHILD didn't sit well with me. So on Tuesday night, once the kids were in bed and the dishes were done, I lugged out my Huggies box full of paperwork containing receipts, bank statements, household documents, and other randomness dating back more than a year, and got to work. Two hours later, I was done. Done! Finished with a project I've been obsessing over for months, bitching and moaning about never having enough time for things like filing, what with all the clothing and feeding and bathing and general erranding I do in my role as mother. I just need to hole myself up for one afternoon and let Luke play point with the kids, I'd say. An entire afternoon, when really all I needed was one night away from the damn TV. Why do we make things so hard for ourselves? Or, more appropriately, why am I so lazy?

Anyway. All of that to say that it only took four day to cross off my first dream from the list. And Jen sent me an e-mail over the weekend outlining how to turn off the stupid box that appears next to Typepad comments, so that's two. At this rate, I'll need a whole new dream list for 2010.

Moving forward, my goal is to refer to this list and conquer new action items as I'm able to take them on. In fact, I'm already hard at work on a new one--"Relearn to crochet"--as Luke and I are taking a more creative spin on Christmas this year. To be honest, we'are still adjusting to the loss of my Parents income, and when we examined our proposed budget for the holiday season, we realized it just wasn't possible. In this new age of financial transparency, it's all about keeping things real and not being ashamed of the limits you have to set for yourself. It doesn't mean that we're "in trouble" or that we can't pay our bills or we don't have anything left over for savings. We're not, we can, and we do. We are fine. We just can't afford huge expenses that fall outside of our normal day-to-day spending without running up a balance we can't pay off at the end of the month. So hi, my name is Frema and I can't (read: won't) blow $700 on Christmas this year.

ANYWAY. A few of my coworkers were meeting during lunch to work on their knitting (shockingly, they are younger than 80), so at first I thought I would take the opportunity to just do that. But after one session, I was throwing my hands up at the chore that is navigating two needles and pulled from the depths of my closet my not-touched-in-years craft bag, which, when I say "craft bag" I mean "outdated tote containing two half-started crocheting projects back from the year 2000." I was a sophomore in college in 2000, and rooming with a certain domestic diva willing to divulge her secrets. She taught me and another friend a simple stitch, and we'd spend hours every week watching old movies and zoning out with our needles and yarn. I started with a blanket and then got bored and moved on to a scarf and then got bored with that and eventually put everything away, "until I was feeling inspired again." That was nine years ago.

Understandably, I'm a little rusty.

Now that I'm a couple of weeks into it, I'm learning more and more about what I don't remember and what I never actually learned how to do. There's a crocheting 101 classs at the local Joann Fabrics that I thought about taking at the beginning of November, but in reviewing our expenses I realized I could either take the class or get my hair cut, so now the new plan is to visit my local library and grab some reference books until I can take the class when it's offered again in December. I learn best when there's a physical teacher around to show me the ropes, but I'm willing to broaden my horizons a little and see what I can accomplish on my own. I don't want to flake out on this again. I want to make something of my half-assed blanket and scarf and also create something completely new. I added a brand-new category and everything! So this will not be the last time you are subjected to craft talk from me. (Crosses fingers)

My sad little blanket and Winnie the Pooh tote. College Frema was really into Winnie the Pooh back then.

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Since the last entry was all about Kara, I thought I would share a few photos of the other scene-stealer in our house. I'd tell you about all the things Nathan's been up to lately except that then I won't have anything left for his nine-month update. I will say that his baptism is this Sunday and that we decided to go with a spiffy sweater-corduroy pants combo for his ensemble, and as part of the most perfect surprise ever, my sister Ryan will be joining us from Germany! My brother-in-law, Jason, is in Russia for training, so Ryan will fly into Chicago on Thursday and hang around for the next few weeks. She and Nathan share the same birthday, and she hasn't been home for a visit since Christmas, so she hasn't even met him yet. I am super psyched to see her and introduce her to my beautiful boy.

Nathan's excited about it, too.

Is Auntie into sippy cups? Because I totally dig ladies with a working knowledge of sippy cups.

 

 A favorite pastime: Holding onto furniture for dear life.

When did my widdle tiny Boo Boo graduate to a full-fledged blend of baby and toddler with a dashing young smile to boot? Do you see the tooth parked on his bottom gum? It's like he's a real live boy!

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Okay, okay, since you twisted my arm, here's a little Kara goodness for you. Presenting: Greetings and Salutations, toddler-style.

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Finally, here are the two monkeys side by side. What fun they have, exploring the world together.

Brothers and sisters

It's funny how different an experience it is to take care of a baby when you're raising a toddler at the same time.

With Kara, every development was mind-blowing and new, every milestone carefully jotted down somewhere until I had a chance to record it in her baby book. And yet, there was also a lot of downtime, too, not because our girl wasn't interesting, but when she's sitting there flipping through picture books, there's not much to do on the sidelines, you know?

Add Nathan to the mix, and now we have spice. His accomplishments are also mind-blowing but not so much new, as we've done this part before, so I often drop the ball when it comes to remembering red-letter dates associated with his growth (thank you, Parents blog, for filling in the gaps). And now, while we still delight in every roll and giggle, the coolest thing is watching these two interact with each other. There's not a moment of filler, and I couldn't be happier about it. (Though I wouldn't complain about being more well-rested.)

  

When we first brought Nathan home, Kara got over him pretty quickly and didn't pay much attention to the wriggling, screaming creature who had turned our family upside down. In the last couple of months, though, she's come to view him as a partner in crime, bringing him toys, engaging him in play, and showering him with affection. An adorable mother hen, that one. And Nathan eats it right up.

  

That's not to say we don't appreciate them individually. Kara still amazes me every day with her ability to quietly take everything in and demonstrate understanding without making a big show of it (aka talking). She's becoming such a little girl now, and I love thinking about which activities she'll show interest in as she gets older, what her talents might be, how her relationship with us will grow.

 

Meanwhile, I have been taken hostage by my son's flirty personality, the way he makes eyes with us all, how he eagerly opens wide for the kisses I plant on his mouth. Aside from occasional bouts with crab-assery, he is such a happy little guy, his bright light shining whether he's center stage or on the sidelines, witnessing the action.

 

Mitten Girl...

 

...and Superman.

And they are taking their show on the road.

And Luke wonders why I can't stop thinking about the idea of a third.

Edited to add 7-1-09: Not sure why I can't embed the video within my post like I have in the past. Feel free to e-mail with offers of help.

Edited to add 7-2-09: Problem solved! Copying the html code into Notepad before pasting into TypePad did the trick.

Little Mister

As promised, I have returned with pictures of the little man of the hour, all brand new and perfect.

 

Mommy & Daddy with Nathan, just into the recovery room.  I know there isn't much to say for the picture quality, but the baby had his eyes open, giving a very suspicious peek to all he encountered.  And how cute is that, I ask you?

   

Nathan just about an hour old, none too happy to leave Mommy's arms for a quick listen from the stethoscope.

Thanks dad, much better.

 

Aah yes, that's exaaaactly the sleeping place I was looking for.

 

Luke & Nathan, pals.

 

Bree and I and baby Nathan.  Might I add that the last twelve times one of the two of us has birthed a child, the next one in the picture is pregnant (whether they know it or not).  And it is just time to take a break from that for a while, thankyouverymuch.

 

Gush.

And last but not least, here's a little video clip of Nathan, very soon after he was born:

Hoping for a smooth, happy recovery for Bree, and looking forward to seeing pictures of the new fabulous duo, Kara and Nathan, together.

Happy Birthday, Baby

I have no idea how to write this post.

How can I begin to describe what it means to be this baby's mother? The joy she brings me every day? How proud I am of all she's accomplished these last twelve months? I can't. There are no words.

Instead, I remember little things.

Month One

 

Kara makes her way into the world via c-section, all 11 pounds, 4 ounces, and 22 1/2 inches of her. Her father and I instantly fall in love.

After the initial afterglow, those first few weeks were just about survival. I slept when I could, ate when I could, showered when I could, and snuggled my precious new baby every chance I got--half the time in hysterics. I remember talking to my mother the night we came home from the hospital, sobbing because Luke had to get my pain meds from Walgreens and I was terrified to be alone with her. Listening to Celine Dion's Miracle CD was equally tear-inducing because hot damn, did that woman know what she was talking about, and when singing "The Pie Song" as I rocked her to sleep, sometimes I got so choked up I couldn't finish the words. I could only hum.

My biggest challenge at this point by far was nursing. Despite putting her on the breast every two to three hours that first week and then pumping religiously for the next three, I failed to get more than an ounce or two from each boob. By the end of the month, she was mostly on formula, and I was mostly at peace with my decision.

Fun fact: Kara was so big at birth that she only wore one newborn diaper, the one the nurses fastened to her right after she was delivered.

 

Month Two

 

Slowly, Luke and I were getting into the swing of things, though I was terrible about abiding by the "Sleep when the baby sleeps" rule. I was too busy trying to clean the apartment, update Kara's baby book, and find the time to shower. Afraid of letting her cry for even a second, I only washed up when she was asleep and the bassinet was placed squarely in the middle of the bathroom.

It was around this time I figured out that Kara and I could play together, so we did. I started reading books to her (Mr. Brown Can Moo! Can You? was her favorite--she loved the animal sounds), showing her blocks, and being more aggressive with tummy time. We danced to Fisher-Price and Baby Einstein CDs in the living room. We also napped on the couch in the afternoons--some of the best times of my life. She would stay asleep on me for hours while I watched soaps, ignored the snow falling outside, and breathed in her new baby smell.

Fun fact: It was around week eight that Kara transitioned from the bassinet to the crib and Luke and I actively implemented a loose bedtime routine. It was also about the time we discovered Lost as a way to feel connected to the outside world.Thanks, Charlie whoops, wrong show Jack.

 

Month Three

 

I think this is when Kara was finally able to go longer than two hours during the day without a bottle, making it much easier to travel. By this time we'd been up north to visit family at least twice, taking for granted that she would fall asleep for the majority of the car ride. (Those were the days!) She's also rolled over, smiled, and made me regret I ever agreed to be a working mom. My official return date was March 5. I cried the whole weekend before and even the weekend after because I went to dinner with some local blog buddies and couldn't get over how awful it felt to be spending even MORE time away from my baby.

Fun fact: I reinstitute Weight Loss Wednesday under the guise that I'm serious about shedding the last few sixteen pounds of baby weight. Except that I can't stop eating cookies. Silly Frema.

 

Month Four

 

Turns out the whole going-back-to-work thing isn't going so well. I break down on the Internet and take a vacation from personal blogging to get my act together. Kara fills in and steals the show. She also stops sleeping, finding it more desirable to wake up two to four times every other night for the next few weeks. And that's just at night--her nap time is STILL completely unpredictable. Good times.

Fun fact: I join Weight Watchers online because I'm actually serious about shedding the last few sixteen pounds of baby weight. And I lose four of them! Too bad I'm about to get knocked up!

 

Month Five

 

Kara is sitting up with style and also sleeping through the night again (for the most part). She enjoys her first baby-sitting experiences with each set of grandparents as Luke and I celebrate our second wedding anniversary and attend my ten-year high school reunion in Chicago. We see Dan and Samantha's new house and decide to plant roots in central Indiana, going against our original plan to move closer to Chicago. We introduce Kara to rice cereal but after a week of non-cooperation decide it's not worth the hassle. We pledge to try again next month.

Fun fact: The Great Aunt Flo Watch of 2008 begins. Luke buys a pregnancy test for me at a Walgreens in Merrillville but refers to it as a birth detection kit. The clerks are understandably confused. The pastor who married us is understandably amused.

 

Month Six

 

Kara is crawling! Thus, it's not long before Luke and I are disassembling our coffee table to minimize opportunities for scary head trauma.We're also getting out of the house more to explore local surroundings--parks, the zoo, walking trails--and we have a ball. We even buy one of those cute backpack carriers because we're so sure we'll be spending the summer tromping through Indy's various greenways. Except not so much, because pregnant Frema is in the throes of the first trimester. Sorry, family.

We try cereal again, this time with success. Also bananas, which she doesn't like much at this point, but soon it'll become one of her favorite foods. Naptime is still a struggle but it's getting better, though I'm too afraid to try and put her down myself. I always make Luke do it because I'm afraid of screwing up their routine.

Fun fact: Kara continues to surpass the growth charts, hitting the scales at 21 pounds and 11 ounces and measuring 28 ¾ inches long. She barely fits in her Chicco infant seat anymore.

 

Month Seven

    

Kara wows us all with her level of concentration when it comes to "reading" her books. She loves to stand at our sliding glass door and watch people come in and out of our apartment building--even moreso their pets. We spend lots of time feeding the ducks that camp out at our retention pond because I still feel too crappy to do much else. I orchestrate my first successful nap.

Fun fact: This is the month Luke and I make our beloved "Oopsie!" video.

 

Month Eight

 

I'm starting to feel better, so Luke and I make a trip to Kentucky to visit friends. We also add a bazillion trips up north and get lazy on our drives home, attempting to feed Kara in the car to make better time. This only works a couple of times before she demands to eat her fruits and vegetables outside the confines of her car seat--for one trip, she screamed so loudly that Luke and I were forced to get off the highway and pull into an abandoned gas station (just one of three!) to finish dinner and change her diaper in the back of the Cobalt. That wasn't nerve-wracking at all!

Fun fact: Kara is more agreeable to holding her own bottle, though she picks and chooses when she wants to comply.

 

Month Nine

 

My inner circle experiences a baby boom as Samantha delivers my nephew Danny and Molly gives birth to Marin. Meanwhile, Kara is babbling, cruising along furniture, and finally settling into a regular nap schedule. She's also more apt to go to bed drowsy but awake with minimal fussing, probably thanks to Bunny, her trusty bedtime companion. Her menu includes big girl snacks like Cheerios and Gerber puffs despite STILL not having any teeth. She remains ever the trooper as Luke and I bounce from house to house to house with our real estate agent. She finally enjoys her nightly baths. She still uses a pacifier, but mostly for naptime and bed.

Fun fact: Kara finally ditches her infant seat and upgrades to a convertible. Britax in my car, Graco in Luke's (a hand-me-down from my brother- and sister-in-law, bless them, those things are EXPENSIVE). She seems a lot more comfortable in the car now, though the Britax doesn't lean back as far as the Graco, so her feet are pushed up against the back seat. No surprise, seeing as she's about 30 inches tall. Her weight is beginning to level out at close to 25 pounds.

 

Month Ten

 

Big changes here: We move into the new house, Kara's two front teeth finally make an appearance, and we deal with the blasted time change. All of these factors likely play a role in Kara's once-again inability to sleep through the night; she cries out and wakes up at least once every night just about the whole month. Where before we were able to comfort her with reassuring back pats and soft words, now we resort to rocking her back to sleep because we know she's had a lot of change to deal with and what the hell, it works. Also, my belly is so big that it's too hard for me to lean over and reach her. It usually takes a while for her to find a comfortable spot against my chest, and she's probably cursing Baby Brother for being all up in her business, but we make do.

Fun fact: Pointing! Oh, the pointing! Especially at "the baby in the mirror."

 

Month Eleven

 

Kara's officially walking in no time, thanks to all the new space we've acquired with the new house. She's doing it so well, in fact, it's hard to remember she hasn't been doing it all the time. I have to travel for work for the first time in three years, which means spending the night (actually, three nights) away from Kara for the first time since she's been born. The anticipation was worse than the actual trip, but I'll take a rough night with my baby any day over an "easy" night without her.

No longer the passive book enthusiast, Kara has decided to start bringing the books to us, which equals a lot of repetition. (But hey, who doesn't like reading about Halloween and Thanksgiving in the beginning of December?) She also falls in love with the Curious George stuffed doll I bought for Luke a few Christmases ago. All you have to do is say, "Kara, where's George?" and if she doesn't run off to get him, she at least looks around to determine his location.

Her two bottom teeth are poking through, and she's chewing on her hands like crazy. She's got little red marks all over her fingers from them being in her mouth so much.

She's more affectionate than ever, holding faces to give kisses, running into hugs, and rushing to pat my big old belly when I come home from work. I love the way she reaches out to people, even those she doesn't know that well.

Fun fact: Good Lord, does this baby like to dance. She'll bounce up and down and shake her hands around at random times, sometimes to music, sometimes not.

 

Month Twelve

 

Our girl turns one year old. We still can't believe how blessed we are to have her in our lives.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. We love you more than you will ever know.

   

A six-month-old's lament

Dear Internet,

Why is my mom all about the disappearing acts lately? This hiatus was even lamer than the last one. I didn't even get a chance to post! What's up with that?

Grrr,
Kara

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Dear Kara,

When you type negative comments about your mother using her very own blog, remember she can read them. Also, that she has the power to take that pacifier away faster than you can crawl after her.

Love,
Momma

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Well, if my non-literate baby daughter took the time to ask such deep and meaningful questions, the least I can do is answer them. Maybe you're interested, too!

But really, it's quite boring. I never intended this place to collect dust for as long as it did. Every few days I'd intend to post, but first-trimester yuck caught up to me, to the point that once Kara was down for the night, I was down for the night. I could pull myself together long enough to post on Parents, but not for anything that didn't absolutely require some level of attention. Plus, I'm still feeling hella overwhelmed about this baby (as evidenced by my recent Parents freak-out), and I wasn't sure what to say about it here. I go back and forth between feeling completely off my game about having two kids so close together and completely guilty that I'm not one-hundred-percent over-the-moon about our new addition, which I know is a gift from God, a gift I will love just as much as Kara. But right now the big picture is hazy, as the every day is spent battling UTIs, trying to find an appetite (yet simultaneously wondering why I've only lost a pound), sleeping whenever I get the chance, and bemoaning my overall lack of energy. I don't want to complain all the time. I don't want people to think I'm asking for sympathy. But I can't pretend I'm over this hump yet, physically or emotionally.

It helps that Luke and I have put off house-hunting for a bit. Our whirlwind touring process ended with us making offers on three houses in two weeks, none of which worked out. In all three cases the counter was too high, and the sellers weren't willing to come down any more, and we couldn't afford to go up more than a couple of thousand. The first house we bid on was actually a pipe dream -- it had only been on the market one day, so we knew they wouldn't be desperate enough to go down as much as we wanted, but it never hurts to try -- but the last two offers were acknowledged to be quite reasonable by the seller's agents. It sounds like in each case, the sellers owed more than the houses were worth and couldn't accept much less than their original purchase price. Which, OK, but then why is your house on the market? Why not wait until the economy improves and get more bang for your buck? Whatever. Luke and I are taking the next couple of months to save up a larger down payment (thank you, July bonus) and clear our heads so we don't settle on something that won't work in the long run. I really hope all three of those houses are still on the market when we get back on track. Maybe they'll like our offers then, bastards.

(Not that I'm bitter or anything.)

Things around here are OK. Kara officially turned six months old a couple of weeks ago and weighs in at a whopping 21 pounds and 11 ounces and measures 28 3/4 inches long. She's crawling, pulling up on furniture, kind of submitting to a somewhat regular nap schedule, and laughing. The laughing is the best -- full-on, belly laughs that I didn't think were possible for babies, but they are. And on Saturday night, we caught it on video.

I look terrible, and my voice is super annoying, but surely you can get past all that to appreciate my beautiful baby girl. We couldn't be more delighted with her.

FYI, we haven't been able to get a reaction like that from her since, even with the magic word "Oopsie," so let's just thank our lucky stars we captured it when we did.

(It's totally inappropriate for me to watch this clip and wish I'd pointed at my belly during one of the "Oopsies," right? Probably yes?)

Also, in case you were wondering, the newest Frema-Useless Clutter embryo (who from here on out shall be known as Number Two) isn't doing so bad, either.

There's not much to see right now, but the first picture includes a tiny yet helpful arrow to indicate Number Two's current residence. This ultrasound was taken when I was exactly six weeks along and suggests a due date of February 11, 2009. If I have another c-section (which my doctor suggests), I'd go a week earlier, putting my children just shy of 14 months apart. Tomorrow I will be eight weeks. This early part of pregnancy is going exactly like I remembered -- loooong, and also BLECH -- and I'm already waiting in earnest for that second-trimester burst of energy that didn't come until around week 18 with Kara. Hopefully, Number Two will be more considerate, but probably not. I bet Kara posted crib notes on the wall of my uterus, instructing future siblings on proper prenatal behavior, just to spite me.

For those of you who haven't stopped checking this blog for signs of life, I will do my best not to flake out again, but see above regarding BLECH. Thanks for hanging in there.

She's here!

Boy, you guys are a tough crowd.  When Frema appointed me Official Blog Updater (for when I arrived home tonight, that is) I suppose we might have mentioned that I'd be staying at the hospital with her.  All day.  Without internet access.  Until I arrived home, which was two and a half hours North of where this precious baby was born tonight.

But now you'll forgive all of the madness and waiting, won't you?  Because I've returned with pictures!

When I arrived today, I was excited to see my dear friend in her normal character.  Is this the perfect Frema Does Childbirth picture or what?

Of course, then the medical staff went and ruined all the fun with a pretty good Pitocin drip, and I've never seen Bree more focused, or in more pain.  She was wonderful, and Luke was an incredible support, but dog-gone if she wasn't in some pain.

And then, well, the drugs came.   And all was right with the world again.

By 2pm there was cheer and double foot rubs and full effacement and eight good centimeters of dilating.  We thought for sure baby Freka was well on her way to catching the five o'clock news.

But as things sometimes go, progress came to a screeching halt and the baby decided things were a bit cramped, but mostly comfy inside.  And she stayed exactly where she was comfortable throughout almost fourteen hours of labor, until approximately 9pm, when the doctor assured Breain and Luke that the only way this baby would be coming out would be through a c-section.

This was definitely the low point of the day, when they wheeled our girl(s) off to surgery. 

(Luke, your gown's open, pal.)

(Snicker, snicker.)

Thankfully, the low point was followed closely by the highest point.  This is who returned to the room, just an hour later:

An amazing family of three.

At 9:50pm, Miss Kara Leigh arrived, weighing 11 pounds, 4 ounces, and measuring 22.5 inches long, with a smirk on her face and the sweetest chubby cheeks you've ever laid eyes on.

Which should leave no room for questioning the need for a Cesarean Section.  My word!

Congratulations, friends.

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