2 more months!

I realized that we are 2 months away from the due date, so here's a little update!
Apparently Pinecone is the size of a coconut... But I'm pretty sure I'm carrying a spider monkey.
Sleeping is getting more and more difficult due to her extreme need to flip and flop all through the night. And the Braxton Hicks have begun! Fun!
Otherwise life is good... Starting to get serious about finishing up the nursery, which really means finishing up the house. We started cleaning out some closets and this week will be merge and purge all of Harrison's stuff.
The nursery is coming along in bits and pieces. The massive tree decal is up and I still love it (which is good since it ain't going nowhere.) And we hung up the "sun" the other week.

Since the rest of the room is kind of a disaster at the moment, this is all I'll post for now. We've got so many boxes and apparatuses and junk in there that needs to find a better place to live this week. Also moving the nursery rocker in here will really make it look more like a room for a baby instead of a random guest room with a crib in it. Hopefully.

Harrison is as awesome as always. We have our moments, but it's still so much fun. I think a lot of my anxiety about having another newborn is kept at bay because of him. It's a constant reminder of how quickly everything changes. Don't get me wrong, babies are cute and all, but having to entertain them and yourself all day every day on very little sleep is not really my favorite stage. But, then I think of Harrison. Those first haze filled weeks and months are barely a blip 2 years later. I am thinking this new perspective will really help me enjoy more of those first days. Or I'll just be a disaster and you won't hear from me till June. You never know.

Harrison, Baby Lily (or Wilwy as he says) and the bump.

We've been surprised at how much more our picky little toddler will eat (MAC N CHEESE!!!) and how fast his little brain puts together things now. Every day I am blown away by what he thinks and talks about. He absolutely loves preschool. I don't really get a huge break since it's only 2 hours 2 days a week, but I have a chance to shower without Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in the background. 

 

Last week we had our annual family photo session with Nichole and I can't wait to see them. Harrison also had his first school pictures! I couldn't get him to pose for me before school but apparently he knows how to model like a champ.

Think we'll get lucky and have a little girl just as cute?!? :)

30 Weeks, lots of updates.

Well it's no secret that each pregnancy is different. I just had no idea how very different they possibly could be! I've been saying things like "I don't remember feeling like this!" and "This just didn't happen the 1st time!" at almost every single turn.
The first main difference is time.
No surprise there!
Harrison was cooking away as I worked a pretty low demand job. I had all the time in the world to rest. Hours of Netflix at my disposal and my feet propped up on the couch called my name anytime the slightest discomfort arose. I felt exhausted and bloated always. I was so ready to just get him out that I let myself get more miserable than necessary. Then after a crazy labor and birth, I was shell shocked. Newborn was (of course) WAY harder than being pregnant ever was.
2nd time around and finding time to take a break is almost laughable.
These 30 weeks have completely snuck up on me. I power through the days and weeks forgetting to just sit down. My body has rebelled a bit, but all-in-all I'm fine. Discomfort is just a part of life (an extra 20lbs will do that to you) but since I can't just lay down and flounder on the couch, I can handle a lot more. My DVR is full of shows I can watch occasionally and the Netflix cue has not changed in over 2 years.  And I am nowhere near ready for this baby to be here.
Time really effects every other aspect too and then there's the differences that are around to just keep you on your toes...

-In the first 6 months, I had morning sickness like crazy... With Harrison, I puked once. Whilst looking at raw chicken. Which would make me puke in a non-pregnant state anyway.
-I couldn't eat red meat until about 3 weeks ago this time, last pregnancy it was chicken.
-I craved lemons and onions with Harrison. Now, I was sweets. ALL OF THE SWEETS.
-My body feels VERY different. I began my 1st pregnancy almost 20 lbs heavier than with this one, so I've been able to handle the stress of weight gain a lot easier this time. However, my bones ache.
-With Harrison, I never slept better. Pinecone likes to kick me all night. Every night. And wedge in almost any uncomfortable position humanly possible.
- And then, there's my skin. I had a nice clear complexion the first go around. Now, my cleanser collection includes every brand of scrub, wash, calming cream and acne blaster you could imagine. My cheeks are just going to be red until all of this extra estrogen is out of me.

Lastly, let's talk about the glucose test!!!
Took me 3 times to pass that damn thing with Harrison and this time, I passed (without barfing or passing out) the 1st time around. WOOHOO!

So yeah, it's all different.
And of course, this effects my attitude as well. I'm way more confident in some ways but since I know how hard it's all going to be very soon, I am calmly trying to work out ways to make life easier once we have 2.
Baby girls' room is slowly coming together (Harrison's was done and ready at like 4 months) and almost no one knows the baby name (read: previous post).

My amazing family is throwing me a baby shower soon and I am so excited this time around. The first kid gets the royal treatment-- We had 4 showers full of fancy decorations and food, tons of gifts and family and friends that traveled near and far to celebrate. This time around is more about a little celebration with those who love us. Let's face it, it's our last baby shower! We don't need much for this little pinecone, so it's way more about love than any gifts or fanciness. Just when things are getting real... (Like really real--you're about to have another infant in your home and holy cow you still have a toddler to handle every single day too)... your friends and family show up to help you remember that it really is a wonderful thing. This is an amazingly hard and beautiful time for us and those who are here to help us celebrate will only make it more special!

On that note, I'm off to work on the nursery and get ready for our family photo shoot this week. My first time having a baby bump in professional photos! Hopefully more updates in a few weeks!

Cooking with the Toddler.

Yesterday I found a great recipe for Cajun Chicken with Fettucini Alfredo. Sounded awesome. Sounded easy. 30 minutes or less and I would whip up a (different) dinner for the 3 of us. Perfect.

Then 4:55pm hit.

For those of you with 2 year olds who don't always nap-- you know what this means. For those of you who do not, just know that you're missing out on one of the most tragically awful moments in the life of a toddler. Suddenly the realization that they did not nap; even though they were utterly exhausted, were calmly placed in their bed for almost a full hour and a half-- had been read to, sang to, rocked and ultimately set up for the most glorious nap time of their little lives, is just all too much to bear. A lifetime of regret befalls the toddler and the fact that Mama cannot and will not "PIIIICKKKK UPPPPPPP!!!!!" is the worst thing ever.

So between 4:55pm and 5:30pm when my husband walked through the door, I chopped, mixed, blackened and whisked. I tripped over 3 plastic animals from Old McDonald's godforsaken tractor. I willed the rapidly sprouting migraine away. I squatted down to my screaming and crying toddler and calmly explained that Mama is making dinner, which only made him more exasperated that I could not attend to his sudden outburst of complete frustration.

I did not drink an entire bottle of wine, cry or scream "SHUTTTTT UPPPPPP!" like I wanted to.

In the end, here's how dinner worked out--

I forgot to add the cheese to the sauce, so as I was plating what looked like a beautiful pile of fettucini, I yelled at Eric as though we were 12 tickets behind at a high end/high stress restaurant and we both tried to salvage the Alfredo.
I sliced the cajun chicken and realized when I shoved my burning finger into my mouth, that I had used entirely too much cajun seasoning, rendering my beautifully blackened chicken thighs so salty they were nearly inedible.
Eric plated the pasta, I coddled Harrison and the tears subsided.
As we sat down at the table, all of my preconceived notions of this beautifully home cooked meal vanished into the gloppy oily cheese covering the overcooked pasta.

I ate a pb&j after Harrison was in bed.

Changes in the air...

It's Tuesday morning at 9:41am.
I am sipping a cup of coffee, reading through a few blogs and listening to my clothes spin in the washing machine.
This may sound boring, or a million miles away from whatever you are doing this morning, but this is seriously music to my ears.

Harrison has started preschool. His second week began this morning at 9am.
Last week, in order to stave off the emotional wave of my baby being not such a baby anymore, I made appointments for preschool time. Haircut and eye check up kept me busily occupied through the two mornings and I only had a few minutes to act like a big baby.
This week, I figured I could handle it.

I am proud to say, that I can. Mostly.

Harrison is clearly loving preschool. They play on the playground, have a snack, sing songs, read books, and then he completely zonks out when I pick him up.  In the last week we have already noticed such a positive impact. He started speaking clearer (Sesame Street is no longer Shitity Stweet!) and in more sentences (Mama! Wub my back peeeeasss!) And sharing is no longer a completely foreign concept. Kind of.
Being around 9 other 2 year olds for a few hours a week is turning out to be so good for him.  My fears of him being a weird kid that only wants to cling to his Mom are fading fast.

So this week, I decided to relax. A little.

At almost 6 months pregnant, I am feeling about 10 months pregnant and my doctor is going to yell at me if I don't give myself a break soon, so it's time.
I have shirts to tie dye, laundry to fold, blogs to read and all of the other Stay At Home duties that I normally have. However, now, I have a little window of time while my son plays with friends at school.
And I can peacefully drink my coffee without doing the Hot Dog dance.
(If you don't know what that is, consider yourself lucky.)

Emotional Mama.

As we excitedly get ready for Harrison's 1st day of Preschool today, I'd like to offer up a thought.

Whether you are religious, spiritual, atheist, a parent, a teacher, bus driver, lunch room worker, TA, school worker of any kind...

I send up the biggest prayer/good vibes/desperate beg to keep our children safe.
Safe from the evils of the world, while they are in school and out.

Please please please.
Keep our children safe.

How To Name Your Child

Once you find out you're having a child, chances are one of the very first things you start to plan is your Name List. Some people have their bag of favorites or family names way before, some just know. If it's a girl, it's ___, if it's a boy, it's ___ .
And others have no clue.
I am not surprised that most of my friends seem to be in the decisive categories.
Names are important and a lot of the people I know pass on family names or have a small list of maybe 3-5 choices from the beginning and either choose to share or not.

We, however, are in the "have no clue" category, at least this time.

When we found out Harrison was a boy (quite early at 14 weeks), the Name Game began. The short version is this: Eric and I figured out what type of names sounded best with our last name and went from there. "Son" names worked, George Harrison is my favorite Beatle and Eric has Harrison's in his family tree. Done and done.

Telling people this decision was not as easy.

When you decide to tell people the name, you better be damn sure it is THE NAME. Your friends and family can smell weakness. If you are at all sway-able. they will know. And they WILL try to talk you out of it/share their not-so-approving view/give you constant alternatives.

I know this because I was once one of those friends.
(Sorry Skip.)

You absolutely cannot go in to the telling of the name with hesitation.
If you say anything resembling, "We are thinking ____." it is over.
You are basically shooting your name in the foot and you will watch it limp around until you put it out of it's misery with a new "better" name you choose later.

I remember being nervous to tell people that we had picked Harrison. While casually watching TV once when I was newly pregnant, I said out loud, "I think I like the name Harrison."
"Yuck! I don't."
Yep. Mistake.

So, when it was officially picked, I psyched myself up and made the call. We told our parents, best friends, then spread the news. We showed no sign of weakness or budging.
Everyone loved it.
Acceptable nicknames were discussed and the name was officially approved.

See the thing is, a name can mean a million things to a million people. You really can't love it or hate it for someone if it's not YOUR baby.
I know, I know, it's hard. I am guilty of it too. When a friend names a child something I would never think of, I try to have an open mind, but until you see that baby, it's hard.
Ultimately, I have never met a child or person I think has the wrong name.
Go ahead parents, pat yourselves on the backs.

So with Baby #2 on deck, we are at it again.
I did not take my own advice up until now and it's been fine. We've made lists, read thousands (Seriously. Thousands.) of names and bounced our choices off of friends, family, strangers on the street. All really because we don't know what we want. And that's a good way to weed out the extras if you need help.
One name I really thought I loved was proclaimed as the worst name ever this weekend (Thanks Lucy!) but it did make me really listen to Eric and decide to cut it loose.
I mean, if your own husband can't come around to it, you really can't force it, right?

The good news is, we now have 2 choices. Two wonderful names that we both love. Two amazing names for our future daughter that none of you people will know until it's picked, decided, written in stone and deemed the absolute perfect name for our perfect baby girl.

That way you can all have a little decency and just say "yuck" behind our backs.

Round #2

Just a quick update for inquiring minds...
I am close to the halfway mark with Baby D #2 and finding myself more busy/tired/excited than ever.
Harrison is talking up a storm and starts preschool in 2 weeks. I am amazed at this little man, he is happy and fun and seemingly very smart, so days with him are way more entertaining than I ever imagined. Although the baby stages were hard and great in their own way (i.e. not my fav), watching him grow into this sweet kid has really been a mind blowing experience!

Harrison had his 1st stomach bug recently. Still smiling through the vom.

His school meets 2 mornings a week starting in September at the Presbyterian church downtown. Mornings are filled with story times, play grounds and crafts. And socializing! I've signed up to be the class mom so I can be involved and meet some other parents with children his age. So far, I've really liked everyone I've met. No crazy judgey parents, no mean children, just a group of moms and dads a lot like us. Some are even busier; more children, different job schedules, etc., but it's really nice to get together with a whole class of people on a Tuesday morning and watch our little ones figure each other out.  After avoiding park meet ups for 2 years, I am so happy we went last week.

As far as pregnancy goes, this one has been an entirely different experience from day 1.
I had awful morning sickness for a few months. Also, being pregnant AND having a toddler is nuts. I used to go to work and come straight home. Maybe walk the dog, but mostly relax.
Yeah, that's not really an option now. I love my doctors (NO MIDWIVES!!!) and we are starting to play the name game. Not Eric's favorite past time.

16/17ish weeks (?) Who knows.

I am really lucky to be able to stay home and not have a job to add to this situation. BUT I will say, staying at home is no walk in the park. Especially now. I basically feel like a full time/over time teacher/maid/cook. I may not bring in a paycheck, but this is definitely more work than any outside job I've ever had.
I try not to let it bother me when people make snide comments about being a stay at home mom, which honestly rarely happens, but let me tell ya, it's no joke.
In the beginning, I wished I could go back to work.
Who wouldn't want a break?
Parents who work outside the home get social interaction with other adults! You get to accomplish set goals and receive money in return for completing those goals! You have a boss or employees that yes, may not be great, but can tell you when you do something right!
Moms and Dads who stay at home don't get that. Even if your spouse is awesome and tells you thank you or gives you confidence boosts of encouragement, it is not the same. And there is no paycheck for scrubbing toilets or doing laundry like you own a laundromat. There is very little brain stimulation in watching Sesame Street or reading Are You A Cow?
But, I get to teach my child.
I get to be the one who reads Are You A Cow and make countless pb&j's.
And I love it.
It is not for everyone, but for me, it is perfect. I realize being a working parent has it's own set of struggles, but every situation does. Just because a parent "gets" to stay at home does not mean life is a walk in the park (well not every day anyway).

Some days we play inside too ;)

So with #2 rapidly on their way, I am trying to enjoy this time and honestly cannot wait to see Harrison interact with his little sister or brother. I look forward to that tight hug around my neck every night and those crazy new expressions or sayings that fly out of his mouth every day. I can't believe I get to do it all over again. That, my friends, is better than any paycheck I've ever earned.

Blogger-itis

Harrison and I just scanned through all of my old blog posts and got a little nostalgic, to say the least. I cannot believe it's been over 2 years since I started writing about being pregnant. After Harrison was born, I tried to keep up with it and one day I decided it was all just a little too much. I took down my old posts, started a new facebook page and didn't really look back. Until today.

It took me awhile to get over the birth of my precious son and those first hazy crazed months of living with a newborn. But reading through everything, it actually reminded me of the good. My philosophy in recent months has been just to write when I'm inspired, which isn't a bad idea... for normal people. 

I, however, am clearly abnormal. I am inspired by WAY too many things almost every day. I also am quite severely Type A. This creative/Right Brain clash causes a full head but only rarely a full page.

That being said, my old posts are up and I'm in the mood to write.

Do you all read those Buzzfeeds or endless Huffington Posts' lists about parenting? I do. Well, I did. They've begun to loose their luster. "What I Wish I'd Known" and "What Your Friends Won't Tell You" and every other slightly interesting tag line seems to fill my Facebook feed daily. I loved them at first.  A few well-written posts from some well-known blogger about some stuff that we all theoretically sweep under the rug. Now, not so much. 

We get it... Parenting is hard. Labor is hard. Being pregnant is hard. Raising boys is hard. So is raising girls. Life, well LIFE is hard. It's great to find comfort in someone else's words, but I guess I'm all comforted out in this arena for now. The problem is that everyone's experience is different, so after reading a handful of these articles, I'm left feeling... sort of understood?

The thing is, I'm ok with that.

Wouldn't life be boring if all of our experiences could be summed up in a generic post from a stranger? I much prefer hearing from my friends and their victories and struggles in their own lives. I like that my experiences are my own. 

I have started to read through a few of my friend's blogs lately. Most of the time, they are quite interesting. From figuring out careers, travel, crafting, being a new parent and being a seasoned parent, these posts are not as polished, not as witty and not nearly as publicized. They are real, they all vary greatly and they are all quite interesting to read.

So to all of you novice bloggers out there, I am here too. Not solving your problems or cracking open any "truths" of life. But giving you a piece of my life. My crazy little world.
Sometimes...
When I have time.

From memory

Once again I have chewed on these words for way too long and now it's just time to write something down. The last couple of weeks have been difficult, as I suspect every May will be forever until the end of time. At least for me.  Next Friday marks 3 years since my brother passed away. I have been able to get through each one and every other day since that day with the help of some extremely wonderful people. Who I kind of remember.

Tragedy does something to one's brain. May 16th 2011 to January 22nd 2012 is mostly a blur. I have to look at calendars to remember dates and I believe it kicked off my need to be very organized. When I found out my brother had died I clung to every detail trying to make sense of it all. I couldn't. I still can't. Every now and then I take a piece out from a box deep down in the recesses of my brain and examine a detail, a minute speck, roll it around in my head, try to stick it in a puzzle place that doesn't quite fit. This usually lasts a few days until I get fed up and tuck it back into the box. (And mentally slam the box and kick it a few times too.)

My life provides a wonderful distraction from these fits of confusion and sadness, so I tell myself that one day I will solve this great mystery. One day I will figure out exactly how and why and then I will know. But that day is not today. 

Today, I can share something at least a little positive. 

Those first 6-8 months or so I pretty much survived because of a few key people. Others have swooped in since and each time I remember to thank them, the moment escapes me. Most of the time it's just too damn sad. So today, a week before the third anniversary of my brother's accident, I'd like to acknowledge a handful of people. 

I slumped my way through the first months and have already made my apologies to those who were on the wrong end of my grief. For the most part, I have been met with such love and understanding that I am continuously floored.... If they even read this blog, they know who they are and I still hold your kindness close to my heart.

When the news made it's way to me that afternoon, I called two people. Betsy-- the closest thing I've ever had to a sister, and Skip-- one of my closest friends. They both have brothers and I knew they would both be heart broken, but they were exactly the right people to help absorb some of the pain and shock. I have no idea if I ever thanked them... I know they never expected to be thanked either.

The details of their help and love fade in and out of focus, but they are always with me, reminding me that I am not alone. Pat and Mike, Abbi and Betsy, Ashley and of course my little bro Michael. My second family. They help me cling to happier times and remember how very lucky we are to have even one of those amazing memories together. 

Skip and Matt held my hands (and probably my hair too) while I navigated through a life of loss. They were by my side. I did not make it easy for them, but they stood strong, picked me up and helped me learn to be still at least some of the time.

I have no idea when I actually talked to my college best friends... Another detail that has been lost long ago, but I do remember Adrienne's voicemail. I remember Matt's confident words of support. I remember them being there for me when my life had crumbled apart years earlier and knowing that I could count on them through another crisis, even if death is a much harder pill to swallow than divorce.

I have no memory of an actual thank you... A call? A card?  Anything? But they make my list every time I allow myself to dive back in time. Words from afar that nestle very close to my heart.

And last for this blog are two of my mom's friends. Cindy and Darlene.

I remember talking with Cindy at some point while I was home and her calm, no b.s. attitude always brought me back down to earth. I remember feeling confident that if my mom, my parents had friends like her around, they might also survive. 

A little over a month later, I went to a friend's wedding. Looking back, this was probably not the best idea in my state of shock, but Darlene was there. She stepped in and reminded me that it was OK to have a little fun. That at some point, all of us have dealt with our own set of tragedies and the people around you are there to help keep you off the floor. I don't remember what all we talked about, I don't remember if I ever thanked her or Bud. But whatever she said to me kept me upright for most of that evening and that feeling is still with me today.

My list could continue for weeks... My dear friends and family never cease to amaze me and how they can handle all that is thrust upon them just for being a part of my life. To all of you-- Susannah, for crying with me over mashed potatoes and Flaming Lips... Nina and Ashley, for staying so close even hundreds of miles away... Adam, for your words and memories... Beth, for sharing your loss and letting me know that I am not alone, And of course my husband, (who should really just get his own damn blog entry)... Thank you. And everyone else who I did not mention by name... for the messages, the texts, the calls, the cards, the continued love and support, the memories... I am eternally grateful.

"I get by with a little help from my friends..."  

Bad Mom.

The first time I was accused of being a bad mom was about 2 months in to my new role as a mother. For reasons I can only blame on genetics (sorry mom.) I was having a hard time breast feeding. My son was hungry constantly. For the sake of a short blog, I'll skip all of the hairy details, but at about 7 weeks, I decided to try supplementing. My pediatrician agreed. My mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother were supportive, shared their own struggles and made me feel like I was indeed making the right decision.

My friends did not.

I shared my struggles with them and was out right told that I was lazy.

The second time I was accused of being a bad mom was when my husband and I decided to not quit bottle feeding cold turkey. At 1 year, my son had just cut his first set of teeth and we were struggling with introducing new foods and textures, poor kid wouldn't even try his 1st birthday cake.

Once again, our pediatrician, my mother, mother-in-law, grandmother, friends of my parents, husband, (you get the picture) agreed.  Once again, my friends did not.

Now, I'm not writing this blog to just bitch about my friends... Lord knows we all have our judgements. I am not claiming that I have never thought poorly of a friends' decision when it came to bedtime routine, feeding options, etc. I have just hung on to a little resentment over being such a "bad mom" and figured my journey into a non-judgmental role should be shared.

About 2 months ago, I was invited to a friend's baby shower. I went not really knowing what to expect. Would people be fighting over advice to this new mom? Would snide comments about whether or not to have a natural birth/c-section/meds start the second I walked into the door? Would every woman there have extreme opinions to overly share (like a lot of my own friends did to me?)
What I found was a group of about 20 women who shocked me.
These women fell on every inch of the spectrum of parenting. From co-sleeping to breastfeeding, I heard of every differing experience you could imagine.

What I did not hear was anyone being accused of being a bad mom.

I heard the sharing of stories. I heard support. I heard a conversation.
I saw people listening to differing experiences. I saw tears of joy and arm rubs of support.

I saw women. Not judging. No pontificating the "right way" to labor/birth/parent a child.

I was shocked.

I left the shower with a new sense of self. A new sense of motherhood. A new sense of womanhood.

I have read countless articles about mother's sticking together. Building each other up and supporting individual decisions, struggles and choices no matter how different from your own. I have begun to look at mothers I once judged in a whole new light. I have tried to hold my tongue, tried to remember that everyone is different.

I am surprised by how many mothers out there feel like they have all the right answers and insist on telling the world about it constantly.

All I know... all that I am certain of, is that motherhood is the most challenging, beautiful, humbling experience of my life. It has made me look at everything in a different way. I never EVER use this phrase (and keep my judgements about it to myself, thank you) but... I am truly blessed. And whether or not you think I'm a good mom, I know for damn sure, I at least try. I am not lazy, I am no more wrong than I am right.
To those of you who are so right about everything, good for you. I'm happy for you.
But, I'll be over here with the rest of the real women who struggle with decisions, google/webmd every sneeze and whine, constantly pray that my child will continue to be happy and healthy and thank my lucky stars that I do not have to do this alone.