Continue reading “That whole tears of joy thing”
Late-night mind wanderings
It never fails. I lie down in bed, often completely exhausted and just waiting for the first of Lana’s mid-night wake-ups, and my mind decides it’s time to think. And think and think and think. And why is it that so often, it always turns to the worst possible scenario of whatever it is about which I’m thinking? Stupid mind.
But there’s always something about the girls in there. To whichever higher power might be listening, I pray for so many things for them.
That they’re watched over every single second of every single day, being protected and kept safe from harm.
That nothing bad ever happens to them.
That they always know how much they are loved, cherished, adored, and wanted.
That they never feel unwanted or know neglect from anyone or for any reason in their entire lives.
That they always find the happiness in life, no matter the situation.
That they always have each other.
Then there are also the more earthly, everyday things.
That they have fun in school and make good friends.
That they’re never bullied.
That they’re never the bully.
That they learn to treat everyone fairly and how they would want to be treated.
That they are never quick to judge and always remember that everyone has their own story, even when they don’t want to hear it. Especially when they don’t want to hear it.
That they learn to recognize right from wrong and choose right, even when wrong seems like the better option at the time.
I pray that I have the strength to help make these things true. These 2 little girls mean the absolute world to me, and I honestly don’t think I could make it if anything ever happened to them. They are my life, and they make life itself so much more enjoyable just by being in it.
getting ready for a princess tea party. della and her little friend josie about died when the princesses started singing songs from Frozen!
Here’s a perfect example of them making my life fun just by being them. Friday morning we were on a run – thankfully it was a mid-length run at a little over 6 miles instead of the killer 10+ milers we do. And when I say “we were on a run,” I mean I was running while pushing the 2 of them in the jogging stroller. Naturally.
The path on which we run passes under a number of city streets, so there are plenty of places for them to shout out and hear their echos. This particular run only contained 1 echo bridge, so I told Della to get a good one ready since we’d only have 2 shots to make nice big, loud ones.
As we approached the bridge, she said, “I’ve got a really good one in my head.” And when we ran under it she shouted, “Apple!” Of course Lana instantly followed suit, shouting “Apple!” as well. Usually they do little wolf howls, which I love. They did start shouting “No!” a couple times last week, which I didn’t really appreciate, so at least it wasn’t that this time. Although Lana did start saying “no” when I told Della to get her echo ready. She’s stinky, that little one.
On the way back I told them they had 1 more time to make an echo since we were going under the bridge again, and this time Della said, “Ok, I have the best one in my head you’ve ever heard.” I could only imagine what was coming, since the best one before that was “apple.” But when we ran under the bridge on our return leg, she shouted, “I love Mama!”
They are the best.
my training partners cheering me on in a 5k a few weeks ago that goes right by our house. they worked – i got my best time by almost 2 minutes (23:17) and 3rd in my age group!
Strength, or insanity?
So we all know how well things were going last week before our trip to Tucson. Well lucky for me, the fun just continued…
As soon as we boarded our flight on the way out, Lana turned into that kid. Screaming, writhing, kicking, flailing, coughing, snotting, you name it. She was utterly out of control. She was on a lap, then seconds later lying in the aisle picking specks of who-knows-what off the floor. At least she was hoarse, so her cries weren’t as ear-piercing as they could have been.
At one point either right before or during takeoff (see, i’m already trying to block the whole episode from memory) she was so fiendish, I literally had to pin her body against me to keep her from hitting everyone and everything around me with her flying limbs. I knew she was completely exhausted from her cold and lack of sleep, so I just held her as tightly to me as possible, which worked. She finally passed out after a few minutes, unfortunately only for about half an hour. Of the 4-hour flight.
I kept apologizing profusely to the people around us, who thankfully were saints. Every single one said not to worry, they all have multiple kids, and even the young girl across the aisle in front of me and Lana engaged her when she toddled up to her arm rest instead of rolling her eyes at me. The man seated in the middle of the row behind me leaned forward during this first outburst and said, “Do NOT apologize.” It brought me to tears, because I was horrified by Lana’s fit and was afraid he was going to yell at me.
And did you notice I said first outburst?
Yeah, it happened again at the end of the flight. You have no idea how relieved we were to get off that damn plane and get her out of there. I almost raided the drink cart for all the tiny liquor bottles I could find. Of course Della was her usual calm, happy self, or else I really would have lost my mind.
Fortunately that was about the worst of the trip, for every day their colds got better, so did Lana’s attitude. Mostly. She still needs to work on her listening skills, but I’ll cut her some slack since she is only 17 months old.
And thank god I almost always had plenty of helping hands close by since Ryan couldn’t go. We traveled both ways with my mom and step-dad; stayed with my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew; and were surrounded by family pretty much all the time. That saying about it taking a village to raise a child? It has never rung more true than on this trip.
I’m afraid I came back more exhausted than when we left and experiencing a return of my cold, though. The constant stream of making sure the little ones always had everything they needed meant I pretty much always came last. Is the diaper bag full – diapers, wipes, changes of clothes, snacks, pj’s, my wallet? Do we have the swim stuff – swim diapers, sunscreen, pool toys, floats, sunglasses, hats? Do we have the eating stuff – bibs, cups, kid spoons, kid forks? Are they bathed and free from the puke that keeps landing on them from their coughing fits?
I honestly barely figured out what to wear to the wedding, just making sure the girls’ outfits were set and they were taken care of first. I’m actually happy with what I wore, though. It was simple and comfortable, which became of utmost importance since I had to stand outside the ceremony the entire time holding Lana, who refused to sit with me from the moment my butt tried to touch a chair when we arrived at the hotel. At least my arms got a workout.
I’m not sure why I’m complaining, though. I guess just to get it off my chest and out of my head. This is my job as a parent, right? They are what’s most important, and especially being the only parent with them halfway across the country I had to be extra alert and prepared. It was just really tiring. Mentally and physically. I often found myself wondering if taking this trip showed I could handle things with them fine, or if it just meant I was certifiably nuts.
Don’t worry – for all this woe-is-me, we did have a lot of fun. The wedding locale was beautiful, my cousin looked stunning, and spending time with my mom’s entire side of the family is something I love. Plus it doesn’t happen all that often, so I’m very happy we got to take advantage. And the girls got to play with their cousin and second cousin, which was so great to watch.
angels…
…and demons (aw, but isn’t she a cute little dancing demon)
This tale does have a happy ending, thankfully. Both girls were absolute dreams on the flight home, even napping much of the way. So I think it really was the cold raging inside Lana that transformed her into that little demon on the way out. She’s lucky – had there been a repeat performance on the way back, I seriously would have considered getting tranquilizers for her for the flights to and from Hawaii in a few weeks. Well played, little one.
the whole fam, minus the bride and groom. they were a little busy.
My year may have already been made
A few days ago, one of the guys with whom I work at the gym unknowingly handed me what may be the highest compliment a parent can ever receive. It came during a perfectly normal, mid-towel-folding conversation, but it really just made my heart so happy.
We were chatting while folding the never-ending mountains of towels, and he asked, “So what made you want to be a Mom?” (i write Mom with a capital M, because that’s just how the question looked in my head when he asked it) I kind of chuckled, thought a second, and then responded, “Well, actually I never really did.”
He looked pretty shocked to hear that answer until I further explained myself…
As most of you know, growing up I was never a girl who dreamed of the day she would become a mother. I was never really drawn to babies like some people are, I usually preferred to have other people’s kids stay with those people, and I was generally pretty selfish with my time and efforts, not really wanting to share my life with a tiny human. To me, kids were just a lot of work, they were loud and cranky, and they always got things dirty. None of which I really wanted a part.
That’s not to say I was ever against having children, I just never gave it much thought. I always assumed I’d have kids someday, but it was never a big gold star on my calendar.
When Ryan and I got married I knew he wanted children, and like I said I figured we’d have them eventually, but they were not on the near horizon. We had a blast in our 20s without the responsibilities of kids, and I enjoyed those years immensely.
As my 30th birthday approached, however, the notion that it may be time to start thinking a little more seriously about building the next generation began to creep into my brain. I knew getting older is generally not conducive to having babies, so that seemed like a good point in time to start planning our family.
Della was born when I was 31, and my view on children changed immediately and completely. It was the most amazingly wonderful feeling I had ever known, I thought my heart was going to burst with the new love and happiness we had created, and I instantly wanted more babies. That sentiment made us both laugh (me and the Ryan at the gym to whom i was talking, not my Ryan), because it sounds very weird to hear me say that almost the second I gave birth for the first time I was already looking forward to doing it all again. But I was. Maternal hormones are crazy things.
And I’ve loved being a Mom ever since. I even like other people’s kids now, too, *gasp!*.
Now here’s where the compliment came. When I finished relaying the tale of my journey to Motherhood, I asked him why he had asked. He said, “Well, you just always seem to have such a good handle on it all when I see you with your kids.”
I internally burst out laughing, thinking he must never notice me straggling through the doors of the gym with these 2 little girls dripping off me – my purse, the diaper bag, their insulated lunch bag, and Lana on my left arm and Della in my right hand, rushing to get everyone in the door before we all fall apart because I now always seem to be running late. Or maybe I really do look ok from the outside, when inside I’m trying to hold us all together with my brainwaves so we can JUST GET THERE ON TIME!
Either way, I was beyond flattered and actually speechless, so I just stuttered a very humble, “Really? Wow, thank you so much.”
I doubt he’ll ever know how much his saying those innocent enough words meant, but I will be forever grateful he did.
From 1 to 2
Seeing how we don’t have Lana’s 12 month well-check for another couple weeks, I won’t be able to do her “official” 12 month post until we get those stats. So to honor her 1st birthday, I’ll instead go with a post that is roughly 365 days overdue. But you guys should be used to my extreme tardiness with this stuff by now, though. Right…?
When I got pregnant for the second time, I had no idea what to expect as far as our new family dynamic. I think I just kind of assumed 2 kids, 2 of everything that fell under the general umbrella of “stuff they need”. It didn’t take me long to realize that was 100% inaccurate.
Before Lana was born, I felt pretty good about having everything we needed for another newborn, since all of Della’s stuff was only 2ish years old and still in perfect working order. We had a crib, an infant car seat, newborn clothes (even though i had to go out and get a bunch of warm-weather girl pj’s once she arrived since hers and della’s seasons are just that much off), I got my pump out and dusted it off, washed all the bottles, washed all the playmat/baby carrier/baby bed paraphernalia, stocked up on newborn diapers (no, i still couldn’t muster the effort to try cloth this time around either), etc. We were good to go.
The one big unknown, as always, was timing of this little one. Della was born 8 days before my due date and my doctor said women tend to have similar gestational periods with subsequent babies, but you never really know. So I literally had my mom on standby in the weeks leading up to my due date with Lana, waiting for that call to come watch Della while Ryan and I went to the hospital to see who was going to come next. I had my hospital bag packed and so did she.
Something that gave me a huge leg up this time over when Della was born, though, was that I pretty well knew what the start of my labor was going to feel like. I was just worried that my mom wouldn’t be able to get here in time if it all went as fast as it did with Della, or that it would happen in the middle of the night and we’d have no idea what to do with D.
Fortunately, however, everything fell perfectly into place – I woke up to a contraction at 1:30 a.m., they continued about every half hour for the rest of that night/early morning until I got up around 7, sent my mom the “I think it’s the day. Come on up!” message, showered, made sure every last thing was cleaned up and ready to go, double checked my hospital bag and the stuff D was going to need while I was staying there, then just waited. My mom got to our house just after 9 a.m., Ryan of course had to run some crazy errand that was like 45 minutes away so was gone when she arrived, I talked to the doctor to see when they wanted me to come in this time since I tested positive for Strep B and needed penicillin ideally 4 hours before delivery, and just sat tight until my contractions were 5-10 minutes apart for a solid half hour.
Ryan and I got to the hospital around 3 p.m., they broke my water a little after 6:30, and Lana Marie came screaming into this world at 7:24 p.m. one year ago today. Crazy, eh? I wouldn’t say it’s hard to believe it’s been a whole year, but I’d say it’s more surreal. Surreal that we now have a 1 year old walking around our house like she owns the place, hollering the whole while. It’s wonderful.
I’ll never forget how worried I was about adding another child to our family, either. I had this unnerving fear that I’d never be able to love another as much as I loved Della, and that Della would suddenly feel second-rate once a new baby came in and shook everything up. I cried in the shower that morning Lana was born, just hoping and praying that we were doing the right thing by giving Della a sibling. And thankfully not a day goes by where I’m not absolutely convinced that we did. The way these 2 play with and love each other is just incredible.
That’s not to say every day has been filled with sunshine and roses, though. Ha! No way. You all know how hard it got for me last winter. I was so frustrated feeling like I just couldn’t get everything right by everyone after a couple months being home full-time with a newborn and a 2 year old.
That original notion I had that 2 kids just meant 2 of everything? So totally wrong. The needs don’t just increase by a factor of how many children you have. Unfortunately. They increase EXPONENTIALLY. Yeah, math. For you see, newborns are so much more needy with the copious amounts of stuff and things than toddlers, a fact that had simply slipped my mind in those 2 years between Della’s newborn days and Lana’s.
I couldn’t just put an extra outfit, diaper, and snacks in the bag for Lana like I did for Della when we’d go somewhere. L needed multiple outfits for the inevitable multiple blowouts/leaks/barfs; multiple burp rags for those exact same episodes; multiple (multiple!) diapers because you never knew how many of those episodes would occur on even the shortest errands/trips; bottles at the ready if I wasn’t planning on nursing her wherever we went; pacifiers for the emergency yowl that always seemed to escape her tiny lips; numerous layers to keep that precious baby skin protected since her early days were spent in the decline of sunlight and warmth for the year (yuck!); and on and on and on.
I think that was part of what drove me the most crazy. Constantly having to write and rewrite the mental list of “things we need” every time I even thought of trying to get the 3 of us out the door. I think our first outing as a trio was a walk to CVS, which is roughly a dozen blocks from our house. Like the easiest walk in the world and something we’ve done countless times before and since. But I swear to you, it took HOURS to get that train out the door. By the time I got us all ready and bundled and loaded (lana being worn in a carrier on me since she was tiny and we had no double stroller at the time), either D had to pee, I had to pee, L had to eat again because we’d taken so damn long, D had to get a new pair of mittens on, I had to change because I was so sweaty from trying to do all this while wearing my winter coat with a baby on my chest, or whatever.
I think the highlight of my winter last year was getting home from that 1 simple walking errand. I had done it! No matter that it literally took all morning to take a 20 minute round-trip walk, but we had made it. And I’d even remembered to keep Lana’s pacifier up at the ready by her face for the second she started crying in the store.
So just 1 small example of how doubling our children didn’t mean doubling their stuff, it meant burying us under it.
And this is definitely the reason why we potty trained Della at 28 months. She was just under 27 months old when Lana was born, and once we started having to get 2 shipments of diapers each month I said forget it. This kid’s gonna go on the toilet like the rest of us, so help me god. And fortunately she’s the most easily-taught kid ever and she did. She’d already shown interest in the toilet and gone on it a couple times, so it wasn’t like I just sprung this all on her, but she honestly only had a handful of accidents at most in those first couple weeks. We just went right into underwear, no pull-ups, and that was it. No more double diapers!
So yeah, going from 1 kid to 2 was harder than I expected and harder than I think I really let myself believe at first. Like I said, it took a couple months before I really felt overwhelmed, probably because I didn’t want to admit I couldn’t handle it. But once I realized that I was struggling and said and did something about it, every day has gotten better since. Yes, I know that sounds utterly cliche, but it really has.
There was a week last winter when Ryan was out of town for some training, and I was terrified at having to be home by myself with both of them for most of that time (i took the girls down to my mom’s house on thursday of that week, i believe, so i didn’t have to serve the entire sentence alone). But I took it one half day at a time – light and dark (lana wasn’t even close to sleeping through at that point, so that’s why i didn’t bother calling it night. like i was sleeping, ha!) – and we made it.
Just like with your first-born, you start getting into a rhythm, and everything begins falling into its rightful place in the scheme of your new lives. Hours at a time at first, then days, then weeks, and now it’s been a year. And I am the happiest and most stress-free I’ve been in a very long time. And I have 1 kid hanging on each leg.
So there you have it. My story of how life changed when we went from a family of 3 to a family of 4. Fine at first with all the newborn bliss, then increasingly hard as daily life at home with 2 set in, but now fantastic with 2 of the happiest, most amazing children I could have asked for. Well, they’re happy most of the time anyway. Until Lana remembers she wants something that she doesn’t have in her hand that very second and starts wailing for it.
And speaking of the birthday girl, here’s a little peek from her birthday party this past Saturday. She was the belle of the ball, running around (literally!) with all the big kids and playing all night long. I’ll have plenty more pictures for you when I get her 12 month post up, too. But for now, Happiest of Happy 1st Birthdays, little Lana Marie! We love you so very, very much. Thank you for making us into our family of 4.
Her first BFF
Della has a little troupe of girls with whom she likes to play the most in the kids care room at the gym, and I just love it. I simply cannot get enough of seeing these tiny little girls running around together, laughing, playing, singing, being silly, and just embodying the true spirit of children.
There is one little girl in particular who Della absolutely adores, Josie, and the feeling is 100% mutual. It’s so cute, I just can’t get over it. Josie’s mom is an instructor at the gym and only teaches a class there 1 morning a week, so it’s not even like they’re playing together constantly. But there is just a friendship there that has grown so strong that they both talk about each other nonstop.
Josie’s mom told me last week that every time Josie makes up a story, Della is the main character with her on her adventures. And with Della, it’s the exact same way. Josie always makes the top of the list of friends whenever we’re talking about other people. And both Josie’s mom and I are amazed at how much they love each other, since they only see one another for such a short amount of time each week.
Della has started her first little dance class at the gym on Monday mornings, and today was bring a friend day. So when I saw Josie’s mom leaving the gym last week, I asked if they would be around today and would Josie like to come to dance class as Della’s friend. She thought it sounded like a great idea and said she hoped their schedule was free so Josie could make it. I said great! No need to let me know for sure, just come on in if it works, and if it doesn’t, no big deal at all.
Yesterday I told Della that Josie might be coming to the gym 2 times this week so she could go to dance class with her, and she was so excited. So you can only imagine how thrilled I was when I saw Josie and her mom walk in this morning that Della and Josie were going to get to play together all morning in the kids room, as well as overload the dance studio with their cuteness for the class. We even brought a special extra bag of fruit snacks for Josie just in case she showed up, since she always brings one to give to Della.
Josie’s mom and I peeked in the studio door once the class started, and I just about died they were so incredibly adorable. Just picture 2 tiny little bodies (Josie doesn’t turn 3 until November, so she’s smaller than D), hopping around, swinging in circles, trying to imitate their teacher. Josie even had on a little ballet outfit complete with pink skirt, and I could barely stand how fun it was to see them in there together.
Josie’s mom said Josie was so excited to come this morning and dance with Della that she was literally jumping up and down at home beforehand. My mama heart nearly exploded when I heard that. Knowing that a little friend cares about Della so much and is so genuine just makes me smile to no end. So much better than that stupid little troll at the family holiday party this past winter. Oh, did I just say that out loud? Sorry.
Unfortunately they live in a different school district than we do, because I was really hoping D and Josie would get to grow up in school together. Guess we’ll just have to keep getting these little ones together to play outside of their future school days, so they really can grow into full-fledged BFFs.
The power of weaning
I’ve been meaning to write this post for months, but, like the rest of my well-intended tales, everything else has taken precedence. So for those of you still wondering how the weaning process went this time around with Lana, please read on.
Unlike Della, who slept through the night by 3 months and never stopped, Lana was never a good sleeper. The longest stretch she ever slept through was 5 nights in a row, and oddly enough that was when my mom, the girls, and I went out to Tucson in February. Otherwise it was maybe every other night, if that. Then by the time she was 5, 6, 7 months old, her sleep had regressed terribly. She was waking pretty much every night, sometimes 2 or even 3 times a night. We were quickly going insane.
I took her into the doctor the day after her 7 month birthday for a sick visit, because I thought she might have an ear infection or 2 due to the amount of coughing, congestion, and ear pulling she was doing. Of course her ears looked perfect so there was nothing wrong there, but our pediatrician thought she probably had an upper respiratory infection of sorts, possibly left over from the croup she had at 6 months.
While there, she asked about her sleeping, and I described how horrible it had gotten. She was surprised and said that was not normal. I then brought up the subject of stopping breastfeeding, not because of the sleeping, but just because I was sick of it. Yes, I said it. I was starting to hate nursing Lana, especially when those multiple nightly wake-ups could often only be resolved by nursing her back to sleep. It was exhausting and annoying, and I had had enough.
I don’t know if it was because this was the second time around and I knew how the whole breastfeeding routine went from having done it with Della, or what, but that “magical mother-child bond” that everyone describes when they talk about breastfeeding was just not there anymore. Lana had always been a good eater and my supply was overabundant again, so there was no issue there. It was just time to be done.
As soon as I mentioned that I was kind of wanting to stop breastfeeding, the doctor said yes, let’s go ahead and wean her. Not a hint of hesitation. Yahoo! Sign me up. As much as I didn’t want to have to start paying for formula, I was so relieved she was actually recommending what I had secretly been hoping for and I wasn’t crazy for wanting to stop nursing my baby. Plus I was overjoyed to not have to mess with breastfeeding and pumping during the summer again, especially since this was just weeks before we were going on our big road trip out west.
I thought the whole weaning from breastmilk to formula process was going to be hellish and take forever, since the 1 time I tried to give Della formula she absolutely refused it and it was a disaster, so I was overjoyed that it turned out to be so much easier than I ever expected. The day after that doctor visit I tried giving her the first bottle of breastmilk mixed with formula – just 2 oz. of formula and 4 oz. of breastmilk. No dice. She wanted nothing to do with it. Well shit.
The next day I tried again, going with a little less formula mixed in, plus I heated the bottle, something I hadn’t done the day before. Much better. She drank the whole thing no problem. I think that was the key – the heating, not necessarily the ratio. Because after that I started increasing the amount of formula in each bottle pretty quickly.
She was fully weaned within 1 week, and, the best part of all this, she was consistently sleeping through the night within 2 weeks. Thank god!! I had no idea how powerful this was going to be for her sleeping, but I am now a full believer. From the start of the weaning process we gave her a full 8 oz. bottle at night before bed, something we continue to this day. She doesn’t always drink all of it, and a good number of times at the start she’d drink too much and then throw a bunch of it up, but at least we know she’s getting a good amount before sleeping. That was one problem with breastfeeding – I never knew how much she was actually taking, so if she got sleepy before she was actually full, that was probably why she’d wake up so much at night.
Plus the whole having to bounce her to sleep in my arms and then being deathly afraid of waking her when I placed her in her crib had gotten so incredibly irritating. When we started the weaning process that all changed too. No longer did we wait until she was asleep to put her in bed, but we put her down awake. That’s when her love of the big soft green monkey began as well. I knew she liked being snuggled into someone to fall asleep, so I just placed the monkey next to her in her crib because it was the biggest stuffed animal she had. Worked like a charm, and now as soon as she grabs it she knows it’s time to go to sleep, either for a nap or at night.
Since we did a gradual weaning transition with Lana instead of the abrupt stoppage that Della did on her own, me getting my milk supply to stop was kind of a nightmare. With D I did the whole cold cabbage leaves over 1 weekend, and that was that. This time I tried to just decrease the amount I pumped each day a little at a time over a couple week span, and it sucked. I would get so engorged that I couldn’t help but pump to relieve the pain, then everything would fill back up, and I’d have to go through it all again.
The thing that finally worked was pumping out just a tiny bit to alleviate the excruciating pain 1 side was causing me about 6 days after I had last pumped, and that was the solution. My method of simply not pumping at all was obviously not working. After that both sides were pretty much done in a matter of days. I did have to contend with some clogged ducts, which took me about another week to fully hand express, but there was no real supply left to speak of. That all took place during the first 2 weeks of June, so roughly 3-4 weeks after the weaning began.
And I did not miss any of it one bit. Whew.
So there you have it. Nope, didn’t make the 1 year breastfeeding mark with this one either, but honestly, I didn’t care. I was so ready to be done, that had I tried to continue it for another 5 months I think we all would have been much worse off than we are now. Ryan and I would have been utter zombies, I’m almost positive Lana would not be the wonderful sleeper she is now, and Della probably would have just run away from home since the rest of us would have been so mad all the time.
Now that Lana’s fast approaching her 1st birthday, too, (what?!?!) the days of paying for formula are also numbered. That wasn’t so bad. I finally switched to the CVS brand from Enfamil a few months ago after discovering that it’s essentially the exact same thing for almost $10 less per tub, so I saved us a little money there. Whole milk here she comes!
Thank you, baby formula, for turning our once sleepless monster into a well-rested, easy-to-bed, happy little girl. I will be forever grateful.