4 weeks

Dear Daughter,
It has been four weeks with you. And we have loved it. Yes, it's been overwhelming. Your little presence is becoming less little as each day passes. When you wake up hungry or gassy or with a dirty diaper.. we know about it. But my goodness, are you sweet. In my opinion, once the adrenaline-fueled haze of bringing home a baby wears off, and real life sets in, you sort of realize babies are tiny tempestuous dictators. But it's really not been the case with you! You really are a good baby. I sort of make up my own definition of what constitutes a 'good baby' (they are all good, of course).. but you just go with the flow so much. You are so content, 90 percent of the day. (the other 10% is always around dinnertime and bathtime, when our household is at it's most chaotic and frazzled) You look around, awed at the same walls in our house that you see every day. You sleep (this superstitious mama ain't giving ANY specifics!). You eat. You smile - just today I've gotten more smiles out of you than any other day... mostly by tickling your little round chin. Is there anything sweeter than a toothless grin?!? You stare into our eyes for minutes at a time. You roll with the punches. If I am feeding you, and your brother yells out something that requires my urgent attention (read: butt-wiping), you don't melt down when I temporarily unlatch you to tend to his needs. This happens pretty frequently throughout the day, so I am grateful that you are so flexible! You go in and out of your car-seat sometimes several times a day, without a fuss. In and out of baby-slings/etc, too. You're just so transportable!
I really am enjoying you, little one (or, Nugget, as your father has gotten in the habit of calling you). I remember this phase with Andrew, and while I also enjoyed him and his adorable-ness, I was just one big ball of stress. I was unsure of every move I made, googling like mad and asking everyone I knew about every little thing. I compared every milestone (never wise). I sometimes just wanted to fast-forward time so that I could leave him in a sitting position, so I could wash dishes (how very lame!) or fast-forward time so he could be sleeping longer stretches at night (sleep is for the weak!). I now want to press pause. I want to rewind time.. because this precious baby phase? It's seriously almost over. I know you're still only a wee 4 weeks old, but how fast has this month flown me by?! You won't be a little Nugget for long, and it does make me sad. I'm thrilled for what our future holds with you, but sad all at the same time. So, because of that, I'll just dine on your double-chin and not think of anything more. Each little moment with you, I'll appreciate.
Happy 4 weeks Nugget!

Firstborn

Dear Son,
It's becoming more and more evident that you are more of a mini Cooper than I ever knew. You see, almost 27 years ago, I was given the GIFT of a sister. At the time, I did not know she was a gift. Even though my memories of being newly three years old are pretty fuzzy, I vaguely recall feeling slighted and pretty pissed off in general. And if I ever need a reminder of these feelings, there is always the lovely home-movies shot during that time, forever recording my ear-piercing screams for attention - directly into my newborn sister's ears. In those movies, I now focus on my mother. She was solid. Patient. Absolutely ignoring my bad behavior and not rewarding it with positive attention. I don't know how she did this, because CHILD. You are that kid now. You are pulling out some stops for attention. And you are actively choosing to not listen - to the most mundane of requests. Mealtimes have a rough start and a rocky finish. You are still eating (knock on wood!) but most times you take an act of congress to get you TO the table, and by mealtime's end, you have either intentionally dropped things on the floor or wiped your sticky paws over the table or done some other thing to up the misbehavior ante.
I know, this is not THAT bad. Firstborns usually regress in some way. They typically cry out for attention in new fun ways. It's just that, well, I had some pretty rose-colored-glasses unrealistic expectations of you. You have (aside from those not-fun months of 18 to 22...) always been just so SWEET. So goooood. So weirdly untypically behaved. You never really questioned our authority or thought that doing the exact opposite of what we said was ever even an option. You made us very comfortable, son. TOO COMFORTABLE.
It's rough some days, with a newborn and you, and a husband who has been working very abnormally late hours. You don't seem to want to cut me any slack. Your love for me is quite conditional. If I manage to put your sister down for a nap, and instead of, you know, peeing or some other selfish activity, I sit down with you and read books.. well, you love me. If I choose to let you watch 2 episodes of Curious George instead of 14, you very much dislike me.

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

The above was written several days ago. My how things can change!!! And still do. Things aren't back to normal. But will they ever be, anyways? Our 'normal' has been forever altered, I think, so my expectations of .. everything are going to be different now. You are such a sweet kid. And I could have inserted that anywhere above, too. I know that even though you've been testing our patience, you are still the cream of the crop. While you've been showing me more love (and respect!) lately, you still are very much on an emotional teeter-totter. This could be an adjustment thing, and this could be an 'age' thing, as well. No way to really know, but TIME.
Last night, something happened that I really was not prepared for (and you know I pride myself on being prepared for as much as possible). While your father and I were in the midst of a newborn screamfest, filing your sister's jagged nails, I came into the bathroom to get her bath ready. Lately, you have been LOVING the responsibility of washing your hands, all by yourself. I was ok with this, because you've never even TOUCHED the hot-water handle (and if you ever happened to, you'd surely call me to come deal with it once you realized it was even slightly warm) and because come on, it frees up SO much of my time! For a kid who loves to have clean hands, there's a lot of hand-washing goin' on, and if you can just do it yourself- by all means! ANYWAYS, so last night, I come into the bathroom and there's..  puddling. Everywhere. You have a very pleased happy face, as the faucet is running and you are using your cupped hands to transfer water from the sink to the toilet.. the tub.. the floor. Initially, I thought 'how freaking cute is this??!' because of how I never got to really experience walking in on a mess with you. You know how most moms turn their back and their baby/toddler is armpit-deep in the flour jar, or cereal box? Never experienced that. You simply never got into things. So, seeing this was sort of.. weirdly heartwarming? That feeling lasted a short span of a few seconds, and then I was just annoyed and irritated. I disciplined you (your sister's bath got scrapped, by the way) and you went off to your room, crying. Your father talked to you, you stopped crying, and you were no worse for the wear. Neither was the bathroom, as your father reminded my frustrated self that 'it's just water!' All that long story to say that I need to be better. Better at not expecting things to remain the same - that you'll stay out of the proverbial flour-jar forever. Or that you'll listen to us 100% of the time and obey us without question. Or that I'll get your love and cuddles whenever I ask for them. I know this new life of ours is going to be about getting through each day, for a while. Adjusting as necessary and the ebb and flow and all that.
But seriously, if you ever get in the flour-jar, your Curious George dvds are going to go mysteriously missing, so help me God!

Avery

Dear Daughter,

You're here! You came to us on April 26, 2011. You weighed 8 lbs 8 ounces, and were 20 and one-fourth inches tall. You did not close your eyes for the first two hours after your birth. Or so it seemed. Your eyes were blinking at a steady pace, just taking in the new world. Your round face and plentiful chins were the very first thing I noticed about you. I simply could not get over how ROUND your face was. Like a little moon. I loved seeing my mother in your precious round face. To say that seeing my mother in you hit me hard is quite the understatement. I noticed your very thick neck - the little newborn flesh/flab that stays in a roll around it is just the most delectable thing on the planet. I then noticed your head full of hair, just like your big brother had (and has). I noticed how you didn't have my slightly inwards-bent pinky nails (your brother does). And how you forgot to grow some eyelashes while in the womb! We won't show you how your brother's look like lush falsies.. you'll figure that out someday! You had the faintest hint of light brown eyebrows, too. The cutest, most reddest little chin. I noticed your LONG fingers and toes. I have little stubby toes, and your Aunt Kelly has what I call 'finger toes'.. you definitely have the same. You were so very red the first few hours of your life. All that crying just wears a gal out. It was so amazing to hear your little squawks.
I actually did not get to hold you for the first 15 or so minutes of your life. Your father did, though. I was being stitched up (yes, down there) and was too nauseated from all the meds and just everything, and I did not trust myself to have a steady grip on you. I don't regret this, simply because I got to hold you for almost 10 months! And, your father is a pretty great guy, so seeing him soak you up was not so bad. 
We eventually made our way up to post-partum, and settled in. Your father went straight out to Whataburger for some food - I was starving. It's all kind of a blur (as I write this, two weeks later), but I do remember that first night, and your many many poopy diapers. I remember being just shocked that such a little thing could go so much! I hope you hold that little gem of a memory close to your heart, daughter of mine, how I remember just how much you pooped the first night we had you. :)
Fast forward to life at home: It's been pretty darn nice. Just being a little family together. The time off from work that your father had was really much enjoyed and soaked up. We tried to remember so many little moments during that time, while we were all sort of still hibernating before returning to reality and the everyday grind. It's still a little hard to say with any real confidence how your personality is. You're only two weeks old, you know. You cry if you're overstimulated (mostly when we have visitors who you're ready to get out of the house), you cry if you have poop, and you cry if you're hungry. All pretty standard! You are a great little eater, as today's doctors visit proved - you now weigh 8 lb 11 oz (up 1 whole pound from last Saturday's jaundice check when you weighed 7 lb 11 oz!) and you've grown a quarter inch. You sleep a lot. You are having more alert times during the day, which is nice. You smile sometimes when you're awake - and I know this sounds silly, but I think it's more than just gas! I think you love to show me your right-cheek dimple. :) 
Your brother adores you. This is so very clear all day long. He always wants to just hold your hand. And he alerts me the second he thinks he smells "something stinky", or if he sees that your pacifier fell out. Or if your head flopped forward in the car-seat (as it did once this weekend). He was a bit of a handful the first few days we came home with you, but I know this is quite normal, and we still got off easy (the adjustment period is far from over though!). He wants to see you first thing in the morning, every morning. He wants to make sure you're asleep when I say you're napping (whispering VERY loudly to 'be quiet!!'). I think he's going to be a huge help in the long run, and a fabulous big brother to you. It chokes me up, getting to sit on the couch sometimes, holding you in my left arm and my right arm around him on the other side. Sure, this is a little bit of residual hormones, but mostly it's not. It's really realizing how BLESSED we are. To have two beautiful, healthy, wonderful children to raise and grow into little adults. To actually know that God thinks so highly of us to entrust us with you two, and to make sure you grow up to be kind, decent people. I have no clue what we did (or have yet to do) to deserve you two, but I'll take it and just be grateful. It's really mind-blowing. 
 
I think you're going to fit in just fine here, kiddo. I love you and your precious round face. 

She's a maniac....

This little clip doesn't really do justice to what I have been experiencing lately. There's just a couple rolls and tremors - but really, I've felt some MAJOR EARTHQUAKES lately. It's no longer cute little kicks and jabs and whatnot. It's full-on get OUT THE WAY baby-shaking. There is a large baby in my belly, and I do believe she is quite a bit more active than my other baby ever was, in utero. My memory might be just fuzzy, but I don't remember this much movement with Andrew ever.
Some patterns lately have been not a ton of movement at night (perfect! let's keep that up indefinitely!), not a lot in the morning either, but the show begins around lunch, and is in full-swing through bedtime. Most particularly around 7-8pm, which is when we're in bed watching a movie usually, so Pablo gets a perfect view at the madness within. There's always a look of shock and disbelief at how I can be living this. And while it doesn't phase me much, it always amazes me.
Pregnancy is hard. Physically and emotionally. The endless (endless!) list of ailments and pains and the endless list of worries of what can go wrong...it can really drive you nuts if you allow it.. but it's a time that I do have a great appreciation for. For any woman who prays and longs to just be pregnant, but for whatever reason, cannot. I know how much it's something to not be taken for granted. I am so grateful that I get to experience the very VERY beginning of my children's lives, with a front row seat.
This is very likely our last child/pregnancy, and while I won't miss the back pain, exhaustion, swelling, weight gain, hormones, headaches, nausea, and other related woes..  I will miss these little dance-shows I get to experience several dozen times a day. And of course the big boobs I know are just around the corner!

3 Years

Enjoy this post to you, my son. Each day brings us closer to becoming a family of four, and ending your supreme reign in the household, so this sentimental ever-detailed post ALL ABOUT YOU might be one of the last ones you'll read for a while. I don't say that to be mean, of course, but it is a reality. I can imagine that as much as I'll try to devote myself to each of you sometimes, 100%, I will always always be pulled in either direction. And this isn't a bad thing, you're going to love having a sister, but let's just say you better really live it up these next 6-7 weeks.

I remember how I felt when you turned one. Aside from perpetually exhausted, I remember feeling PROUD. Not only that we had sustained a human life for 12 entire months (I've always been an indoor plant-killer, so I had my doubts) but that we had done it so incredibly WELL! You were amazing. You were gorgeous and brilliant and just the sweetest little chunk of one-year old I had ever seen. Some of that just had to be our doing, right? We survived that first insanely hard year, and we came out the other side with a beautifully well-adjusted one-year old. We really were full of ourselves at that moment. And really, why not? I had never in my life cared for, or really even babysat, an infant. I had absolutely no clue. But, despite the constant trial-and-error that defined that first year, you made it out unscathed and pretty amazing. There were certain times we might have been a bit scarred from though, like the month or so, around 9 months old, where you would routinely vomit up your day's worth of food whenever you would cry at night. That was not a time we'd ever like to relive, but overall, it was a good good year.

I remember how I felt when you turned two.  Months 12 to 24 were most definitely, hands-down, without a freakin' doubt the hardest for us. Well, mostly me. I had some long LONG days with you that year, child. You were very awkwardly staggering the line between being opinionated but not knowing the appropriate ways to get that opinion across. You wanted to say SO! MUCH! but you lacked a lot of the skill to do so. It got eleventy billion times better from months 20-24, but prior to that, it was some rough going. You had quite the attitude for a little guy, and while most of your tantrums were short, they were very memorable. You were still my sweet love, but that year was peppered with far more hair-raising language barrier-caused tantrums than I ever thought possible. I was pretty ill-equipped to deal with them, also. Given the fact that you were always a pretty chill, sweet boy, I was 100% not prepared with how to react to such outbursts. So, there was A LOT of late-night googling and developmental book-reading. Turns out that it really didn't matter what I did or didn't do, once you had a better grasp of the whole English language thing, matters greatly improved.

And how do I feel now, as your turn three? LUCKY. Because this last year, months 24 to 36.. they were just, wow. Insanely fun. Your personality has evolved so much this past year, and the things you do?? The things you say?? Hilarious. You are such a little person.  You're not even a toddler anymore, I don't believe, you're a full-fledged card-carrying KID. And yes, this makes me want to stop and sob for a moment, but it's just too cool for words. We have conversations. And to be able to recall the you that cried like a wounded chicken to communicate to us as a newborn, to listen to an entire dialogue from that same you now, 3 years later? Kind of mind-blowing. 

You are so loving. Lately, the last month I'd guess, you come up to us and give us out-of-the-blue kisses. Sometimes on our leg or our foot or our back.. then you go off and continue playing or doing whatever you were doing, leaving me in a pile of Loved Mommy Mush. Sometimes you will pick a dandelion outside and give it to me, saying 'I picked this big one, just because I love you.' Again - Mommy MUSH. Sometimes I'll ask you if you have any love or kisses for me.. you'll typically shrug and say 'no I'm all out of love.. but I have a few kisses!' (or vice versa) And then sometimes, when I would give our life's savings to stop time. you will let me hold you in a full-out body hug, you straddling me (perched over the belly) with your head resting on my shoulder.. and I'll sway and you will stay there for FAR longer than I'd ever expect a toddler to stay still. It's the best part of any day.

We also did some potty-training this year. Month 28, to be exact. It went MUCH better than I anticipated, but then I often anticipate the very worst of scenarios. Really though, you were a quick learner. At least with the pee. We won't talk about the other function, because it was a month and a half we'd all like to burn from our memories. Really though, it could have been so much worse, so I have absolutely no complaints.. I am nothing but proud of you and how it all went. I think (for me at least) as soon as you have a newborn, you start to realize 'OH GOD this child will someday need to be potty-trained. And by me!' and there's a certain amount of dramatic panic experienced well in advance. I can panic with the best of them, and I am so stinking thankful to you for having all that panic be for nothing.

We got you a trike, too. It had a long huge handle on the back for us to push, but really we just rest our fingertips there, because you needed to look back and SEE us there. I get that. You did the work, and eventually the handle came off - and off you went. The last week or so, we retired the trike and introduced you to your 'big boy bike' - a small bike w/training wheels. You got on, no fear, and that was that. I have a good feeling you won't take a decade and a half to learn how to ride a bike like I did. This is a good thing because someday your spouse won't mock you every chance they get about it.

This year also marked the whole 'mommy getting pregnant again' event. That weekend we found out, I vividly remember taking you to your most fave place EVER, the mini-train. I wanted to celebrate and remember the weekend, but in a way that meant something to you. You still have no idea how much your life is about to change, and neither do I. It was something very surreal for a few months, the notion of you not being my one and only.. and me having to share all the love. As the time gets nearer, it's still somewhat of a weird feeling, but not as crazy as it was those first few weekends.

You also started preschool. Let me tell you, I was stressing about this BIG TIME, for months. And months. I even got you a What To Expect At Preschool book (and fine, ok, a few other related reads). A little mental prep goes a long way with you. And, me. I was just worried about everything. The leaving you (went fantastic). The possibility of potty-accidents (1 all year). How you'd make friends (pretty easy). If you'd eat lunch (oh yes). If you'd get hurt (one ear-smushed-in-doorway accident). If you'd nap (sometimes). How you'd adjust overall (fabulously). So.. like most things, I over-worried. You have loved loved loved preschool from Day One. You come home and give me dramatic lowdowns of playground soap-opera happenings. "Ya know why Dylan was sad today? Because Sophie messed his hair up! And then he messed her hair up! And then she was sad, too. And then she got a time-out..." It's all so riveting, and I love hearing about it.
 

There's just been so much this year. So many milestones. Little and big. When someone thinks of milestones, they might think of sitting-up or walking or clapping. And those are amazing milestones that you never forget. This year has been full of somewhat more.. abstract thought related ones? Like, the one where you ask me for something, I tell you no and you immediately scamper off to find your father to ask him the same question. This little gem of a milestone is sure to stick around for the next decade at least. Or the little emotional milestones along the way - how you instantly sense a bad mood, and tell me to 'just be happy, ok?'.. or if you've been a toot and I've just about had it, you give me a sweet face and say 'I'm still a good boy...' Oh man. Crawling and clapping were awesome and each deserve their own parade, but I absolutely adore these different kind of milestones. 

I am just such the proud mother. I know these days are so fleeting, and as easy as it would be to look at the years ahead when you are in college and we can cruise the world as 'the light at the end of the tunnel', I don't. I want these sweet toddler years. I know they won't be around for much longer, and they might have even already passed me by and I haven't yet realized it.
I try to soak up moments every single day with you, but there's so many of them. You give me, us, so much. Every single day. I couldn't feel more blessed by YOU than I do right now, and always.

Happy third birthday, sweets.

Out Back

This video sums up what we hear daily, several thousand times a day, depending upon your sugar intake (of course). You are ALWAYS wanting to 'gooo get you!!!'...  But it has to be said a certain way. It has to start with a cheeky whisper.. 'ya know what I'm gonna do in just a minute...?'.. then you SCREAM 'I'm gonna go GET YOOOU!'...  After hearing this in our sleep practically, we mix things up sometimes by saying the first part ('ya know what I'm gonna do in just a minute?') - and then we'll say 'go do laundry'.. 'go take the trash out'.. or something else equally as mundane. You get a huge kick out of that. And it buys us some lazy time where we don't have to chase you all over the house. ;)

And this one was taken the same afternoon..  it's just you being silly. And counting rocks. You know, someday, probably a LOT sooner than I realize, your requested form of entertainment will go far beyond being outside and counting rocks. We have never been big TV-watchers, and it's something I am proud of as a parent - the fact that you don't know all the normal toddler tv-shows that most kids do. Because I am my own worst critic, there's not a TON I can confidently say I am proud of, but this is something I feel I dun' good on! Sure, you have a few favorite tv characters, but we've always simply left the TV off. It has required muuuuch more patience and focus on our behalf, keeping you entertained otherwise - but I am so thankful that you would rather count inanimate objects outside or read through endless (endless!) books, or paint or color, than sing the latest mind-numbingly annoying TV theme-song. Now, having said that, it's highly likely that your little sister will teach you many many annoying tv theme-songs!!!!! Life as we know it will be adjusted accordingly. ;)
Lately, just to see how you'd like it, I put on a show called Diego. Knowing that most kids your age like the show, I thought you'd love it...  but given the fact that this Diego character does not speak - he SCREAMS and yells - you were sort of taken aback. The show likes to get the kids/audience to interact, asking them questions, and waiting for responses with their big blinking cartoon eyes. And you, you just blink right back at them, probably wondering why the hell they are screaming at you. You do interact with the shows you do watch, Curious George, Word World, SuperWhy, and some others.. but I don't blame you for hating a show that yells at you. 
I don't know how I got on the topic of TV...   but there you go.

This video needs no real description. Just a crazy kid in a tunnel!

The Little Gym

 

The top video is of you going around the parachute. It's so funny to watch (for me) because when we first started these classes - 2 yrs ago - you were TERRIFIED of the parachute. You had such anxiety about it. It could have been the over-stimulation factor of it, the size of it, or who knows what... all of the above probably, considering there is almost always at least one screamer for this part of class. But the last year or so, you've LOVED it. And you participate and listen to the teacher SO so beautifully. I am just so proud!

The last video is of you receiving your 'medal of honor' - on the last day of class. We picked the wrong end of the semi-circle to sit at, and you were the last of about 12 kids, but you were patient as always, waiting your turn.