Summer Days

Just after Zoe’s 2nd birthday, Daniel and I finally bit the bullet and had a fence installed around the pool in our backyard. After nearly nineteen months in this house we decided it was time. Zoe is one active little girl and we weren’t able to take full advantage of having such a lovely and large yard because we were constantly in fear of her running or falling straight into the pool. Zoe had grown tall enough to reach the doorknob and the thought of our daughter being in danger when there was something we could do about it was almost too much to bear for any longer than we already had. So we said goodbye to $2200 and have not regretted it once. In the last month we enjoyed many evenings as a family. Nothing wears out a toddler better than running around like a wild child, playing with her dogs and breathing in some fresh air. Ahem. Well, two out of three isn’t bad… We had some uncharacteristically lovely weather in the last month: moderate temperatures, slight breezes. Each night after dinner, we’d open the backdoor and Zoe would go running with her arms stretched out to her sides like she was flying. The dogs would follow quickly behind; times like these are what they have been eagerly waiting for since we brought the little monkey home. I would follow after them, calling out to all of them to play nice and Daniel would bring Finnegan’s bouncer out into the middle of the yard so he could see all the action. Daniel and I pulled a couple chairs off the patio and placed them on either side of our son so we could sit and watch Zoe run and play, but we never stayed seated for long. Seeing Zoe have so much fun was infectious. We ran, chased, danced, and sang with her. We blew bubbles, spinned her in the air and Daniel gave her piggyback rides. She would explore: touching the trees, plants and flowers. She would bring me the occasional snail, but get nervous if a fly or bee buzzed too close to her. Most nights I would snap pictures, either with my iPhone or camera. Daniel would make Zoe swords from palm fronds. She would swish her “sword”, cutting through the sky one moment, singing “Everybody was Kung Fu fighting! Ya! Ya!” And then it would become her magic wand. Daniel taught her to say, “Bipitty Bobbity Boo!” as she pointed it at the dogs, me, her little brother. Finnegan would just take it all in from his seat. Content to watch his parents and sister play. I’d catch him smiling at the sky and wonder what it was he saw through his big, inquisitive eyes. Where I see his sister as this entertainer, I see in him a thoughtful, old soul. But I could be completely wrong. He could be biding his time, waiting for the day when his Daddy builds him a sword so he can join in the adventure. The dogs usually grow tired of all the activity fairly quickly. It’s hard work keeping up with a toddler, I know. Eventually they come back to the chairs we have set up so they can get some scratches behind their ears, shelter from the wild child, and maybe even to guard the little boy they have both grown to adore in the last six months. Me? When I’m not playing with Zoe, I’m taking it all in. Daniel and I have learned to take shifts until Miss Independent decides it’s time for her to explore on her own. I enjoy sitting and watching Daniel play with our daughter. Their mutual love and admiration for each other is easy to see, to feel. When it’s my turn to play, I can’t help but glance over at my boys by the chairs. I imagine they are communicating – that they share some secret language that only fathers and sons that share a birthday can have. It is true what everyone has said since Finnegan was born, I see so much of Daniel in him now… his eyes, his smile, his thoughtful and serious expressions. The weather has quickly turned hot. Finally, we are experiencing the summer we’ve been bracing ourselves for… the summer we were happy to get a brief reprieve from. We haven’t had one of our “Family Evening’s” outside for a few days and I miss it. But I am so happy to have those memories and the photos I took. They will tide me over until the weather cools again. And then I imagine I will miss the activities I’ve thought up for us to do as we try to beat the heat and entertain our little monkey. The other night, as Daniel and I sat in our chairs with Finnegan and Zoe ran around, I had this overwhelming feeling of happiness. I remember thinking that these are the moments that I want to remember always. These are the days that I hope my children will remember, too. It was a good feeling to be able to sit back and know without any doubt that this is the life I always wanted and to get to appreciate every single moment as it unfolded. There are goals I still want to accomplish, places I want to get to visit, explore and live… but at that moment there was no place else I would have rather been. I’m pretty sure I sighed with that contentment, that knowledge. Life is good. No, life is incredible.

Dance in her heart

A couple months ago, Daniel and I signed Zoe up for her first dance class. We thought it would be good for her to have a fun activity for the summer that would allow her to make new friends and take advantage of her love of performing. We were also hoping that a dance class might teach her to follow directions a little bit better and instill as much discipline and focus as possible for a 2 year old. We didn't have huge expectations - humble ones, actually. I figured at worst, there's nothing cuter than a kid in a tutu, prancing around to music... and multiply that by infinity when it's your kid. So we prepared her. We talked about how she was going to get to take a dance class. We read her a book about ballerinas. We got her a couple leotards with tutu's, tap shoes, ballet shoes, and a special "monkey ballerina" dance bag. She was excited. We were excited. After weeks of hyping up the dance class, I got butterflies this morning as we got Zoe ready. Would she be afraid? Would she cry? Would she make friends? Would she run around like a maniac and ignore any and all directions? As she pranced around in her little outfit, I told myself: Maybe, maybe, probably and definitely. I was 50% correct. Here's a breakdown of the class, for the grandparents especially: Daniel, Zoe and I got to the studio a few minutes early and parked in a very special parking spot. When we got inside, she sat quietly next to her Daddy observing all the other little 2 and 3 year olds. After a bit she stood up, grabbed my hand and walked me across the room to a crowded spot. She wanted to be in the center of things, but she didn't want me far either. She smiled at the little kids around her but played shy for a bit. Just as she was inching towards a little boy and letting go of my hand, the teachers came out and read out loud who would be in which class and then they invited the parents to watch the first lesson in the classroom - for the remaining classes we'll have to sit in the waiting room and watch on the televisions. Zoe loved the sound of her tap shoes on the floor. She danced all around and laughed and had a great time by herself while other little girls clung to their parents and cried because they were nervous. Not our girl! Soon after this pic was taken, Miss Jennifer told Zoe she had "dancing in her heart." The teacher asked the girls to sit down and Zoe listened! But then, when it was time to get up and dance, Zoe wouldn't budge. This photo was taken right about when Miss Jennifer told Zoe should couldn't dance on her bottom, but my kid tried proving her wrong. Then it was time for ballet shoes. Zoe didn't want to take her tap shoes off, but she got over that quickly and really let lose. I can tell already, my girl is going to be a bit of a class clown. She got really comfortable: And made a new friend. But kept us in her sights frequently. She did some tumbling. And when class was finished, she waited patiently - sort of - for a special ballerina stamp on her hand. And look! Already she has learned to stand in line... on her tippy toes! All in all, her first class was a success. Daniel and I were delighted to see her enjoying herself so much and we were relieved that she was not at all afraid. There was a brief moment when she pushed her shoulder up to her ear waiting for her teacher to look at her, but that was the only sign of insecurity and it was fleeting. I think this is going to be a great experience for her and I'm especially looking forward to her recital in August.

Happy Birthday, Little Monkey

Dearest Zoe, It is hard to believe that exactly 2 years ago this very moment, I was laying in a hospital bed watching my little newborn sleep peacefully in her bed. That day was the beginning of a life I had dreamed of, but I had no idea just how much you would change my life and fill me with more love and joy than I ever fathomed. Today is your 2nd birthday. You're two! And in some ways that feels like that just cannot be possible. It was only just yesterday that I heard you cry out for the first time and I got to hold you in my arms. And now you are this little girl, full of spunk and personality. You have a flair for the dramatic and a great sense of humor. You've got some serious dance moves and a love for singing. You love to hug. You love to explore and take things apart to see how they work. You adore being outside, running, playing, smelling the flowers. You love your Bailey and Max. You love Tinkerbell and Ariel and Bolt. You think brushing your teeth is so much fun and bath time is your favorite. You are sensitive and thoughtful. You are a wonderful big sister. You're fearless... a daredevil who we must always keep an eye on. You thing shopping is so much fun and especially enjoy Target. You love to read and play with your instruments. You like going "bye-bye" and meeting new people. You have a way of making every one smile around you because you do things with such joy and gusto. Your vocabulary is extensive. Here's some of my favorites: Please Thank you! AMAZING! Awesome! Cool! HI baby. Baby is crying? What's wrong? It's ok, baby. Pirate! Potty time I love.... Let's go nigh nigh Let's read a book Let's go outside That's funny! I love it! Cute! Hi. Hello. I'd like a chocolate milk in a box. Thank you. You make us laugh every single day and every day I get to spend with you, I feel blessed. You are teaching me to let go of needing to control every little thing. You are teaching me that there is joy in the simple things. You have taught me to be stronger, to be silly, to be more curious. Getting to be your mom is one of the best things to ever happen to me and I love you so very much, Zoe. Happy Birthday, monkey. I look forward to the next year and all the possibilities and adventures it holds for you... for us.

Still Here

It's been a while. I've been busy. Having two kids isn't easy... I am grateful I have such an amazing partner - in parenthood and life. I laugh every single day. I also teach, learn, and grow as my children do before my eyes. Speaking of... I wish I had a camera built into my eyes so I could capture every single moment. These are the days I want to remember always. This is hard work, but so worth it.

Conversations With Zoe

Mommy? Yes? Mama! Yes, honey? Mamaaaa!! Yes, Zoe? What's that? Mama's pumping. What's that? Mama's making milk for our baby. What's that? It's milk. PAUSE. Chocolate. No. Just regular milk for the baby. Chocolate milk? No. Plain milk, for the baby. LONG PAUSE. What's that? It's mama's pump. So she can make milk for our baby. Mama? Yes, Zoe? What's that? It's milk, honey. Just like what mama used to do for you. Good job, mama! Thank you, Zoe. Zoe has been telling me "good job" a lot lately. Whether I'm changing her or Finnegan's diaper, pumping, fixing her breakfast, reading to her, etc, she will look at me square in the eye, nod her head and tell me "Good job, mama." After a particularly horrible diaper of hers last week, she smiled and said, "GREAT job, mama!" I've never been one to feel under appreciated by Daniel or the kids, but these extra words of encouragement from Zoe have been lovely to hear. It's a nice feeling to know that she has picked up this need to express her feelings and that she is indeed pleased with the "work" I am doing for her. Even more so though, it means she is hearing the adults in her life tell each other when they are doing a good job and she herself is being told "Good job!" frequently. It means we are in fact, doing a good job at teaching her to be positive, encouraging and thoughtful and that makes me very proud. Now, if I could only figure out why she keeps telling us to "Stand back!" She does so very seriously when she thinks we're about to take her plate away. Very authoritative, very protective, very... cute. But also a little bit bossy.

Glasses

Last week, my friend Jen wrote a post where she declared herself a "glass-half-empty kind of person" and it got me thinking about what type of person I am. First thought that comes to mind is I'm a glass-half-full gal. And then I start to have my doubts about that. Truth be told, if I hear a friend getting all down on themselves or their situation... I generally have something positive to say. I want to pick them up and enlighten them. I want them to have a positive outlook so that they can be the change they want or need. I want them to be happy and I want to help them be happy because that makes me happy. Happy happy happy. That said, I am not this optimistic for myself. At least not anymore. I couldn't tell you for sure when this changed. It could have been during my first marriage and in the year before I met Daniel when I felt lost and hopeless and like the world was against me. It could have been when I got injured at work... just a simple sprain... and developed RSD/CRPS in my arm and had to undergo painful treatments and ridiculous amounts of medicine - like Morphine - to manage the pain. It could have been when my Nana lost her battle with cancer and I was struck with the very real and pessimistic fear that I too might face a similar passing even though I quit smoking five years ago. More likely though, it was the realization that I have something so amazing, pure, and uncommon with Daniel that I started having this fear that it would be taken away from me. This feeling grew exponentially with the knowledge that I was going to get to be a mother and then when I held each of my children in my arms for the first time, and has only gotten worse as I see all the horrible things that happen daily on the news and yes, in the blog world. Daniel is the cheerleader of our family now. While I take it upon myself to try to lift everyone around me and spare them my insecurities, fears, and pessimism... he is the one who assures me that everything is going to be alright. And for the most part I believe him, because despite everything, we have persevered. We have gotten through the challenges thrown our way. We have healed from our losses. We have learned to manage the pain. We are good, loving parents to our children. We're pretty much sleeping through the night. But sometimes I want to tell him, "My glass is half empty!" And he seems to know and he convinces me that no, it's filled to the brim. Sometimes my outlook is so bad I see no glass at all, let alone a half empty one. "Someone stole my fricken glass! Who does that?" And he finds some way to remind me that the glasses are all in the cabinet ready to be filled up. And I know all of this is true. I know because these are the things I tell myself, but I believe it more when Daniel has his arms wrapped around me. I'm a glass-half-empty gal, but I don't want to be. I need a refill. Kthnxbai.

Nevermind that the headphones weren't actually plugged into anything...

My girl has music in her heart. Have a great weekend.

Remembering Maddie

Thanks to It's a Schmitty Life for sharing this.

There Are No Words....

Sometimes my non-blogger friends and family do not get why I blog or how I can form these friendships with bloggers and bring them up in everyday conversation like I have known them for years. And my answer is this: I found blogging when I was starting over in life. I'd left a very bad marriage that did not allow me to form relationships with other people and moved to a city where I had only two "real" friends. I started a blog because I wanted to make a connection with people like me and since I've always been better at expressing myself in written words rather than spoken words, I felt extremely comfortable. Blogging has allowed me to deal quite publicly with divorce, an abusive relationship, health problems, my beloved Nana's cancer and death, and my own infertility issues. It has given me a place to write about finding the love of my life, planning our wedding, our crazy dog children, pregnancy, and what it's like being a mom to Zoe and Finnegan. I'm not a popular blogger. But I feel very, very lucky to have formed friendships with some amazing women - like Jen... who I "met" when we were each planning our June 2005 weddings and who was one of my pregnancy buddies last year. And Nanette. Who I still have not met in person, GAH! but I just adore. She was so thoughtful when I was going through Nana's death and I will never forget that. And Geekmom - who used to go by a different name, but sent me this gorgeous pendant for me to wear to keep me calm during my wedding week. I cherish it still and am so glad I found her again. And Sizzle - her words have cheered me when I have been down on myself as a woman and a mother. She is an excellent person to have in your corner. And many more, but today all I can really think about is Shana. I think I found her through Sizzle and I am so grateful for that because finding her meant I had another pregnancy buddy to talk to, even if I didn't find her until we were both almost done carrying our boys. We had so much in common - like, say, the conception date! and of course, our due dates.... but also we both knew our boys would be delivered via c-section and we spent many days counting down to the dates we had chosen. Her precious Thalon was born just over a week before Finnegan and I checked daily for updates on how she was doing. And then I sort of fell off the radar because being a mom to a toddler and a new baby isn't so easy. My heart broke this morning when I read about Thalon. I am at a complete loss for what to say because I know that nothing I say will make this better... but my prayers are with Shana and her family right now. Here's proof that the blog world really is amazing: Go to Whoorl's site and help Shana's family with hospital and funeral expenses by using donation link at the bottom of her post. Please keep Shana and her family in your thoughts and prayers and donate if you can.

Just HAD to share

She is my light, my inspiration, my joy, and my amazingly beautiful little girl. I simply cannot believe how quickly she has become a little girl since we brought her home almost two years ago. See the individual pics HERE.

Confessions from a mother of two

In a matter of days, Finnegan will be three months old. That is so crazy for me to even imagine. In some ways it feels like he has been a part of our family for years, like his place is with me and Daniel and his sister. Like there was always this place carved out for him with us and he is exactly where he is supposed to be. And sometimes I look at him and how much he has grown and how interactive he has become and I ask him how this is even possible because we just brought him home! He is supposed to be little and delicate, but he isn't. He is my big, strong, three month old with a killer smile, flirty eyes, quick temper and lively personality. Things weren't easy at first. For the first few weeks that Finnegan was home, I cried every single day. I cried when Zoe cried and when Finnegan cried. I cried when I was away from Zoe. I cried when I needed a break. I cried because of television shows and movies. I cried because we had ants in the house. I cried because I was exhausted and felt weak from the surgery. I cried because my hormones were completely out of whack and I had this overwhelming sense of sadness and inadequacy at least once a day. It hurt my heart to feel that sadness when I have such an amazing husband and two beautiful children who I wanted with all my heart and whom I adore with every sense of my being. And I was ashamed. Ashamed that I was feeling so down and sorry for myself when I had everything I had ever wanted and more. Ashamed that I wasn't stronger. Ashamed that I was not the perfect housewife and partner for Daniel. Ashamed that I was never going to be that mom who had everything in control and did everything right. Ashamed that I was failing to live up to my over the top expectations. Ashamed that I only really shared any of this with Daniel, so I was a phony to all my friends who thought everything was perfect and that I was just not around because I was tired, not secretly avoiding contact with everyone. Ashamed that I would burst into tears out of the blue and couldn't pinpoint what exactly I was crying about. I thought I was going crazy. And as those days passed, each day would get better and then all of a sudden I would feel fabulous, and then I might slip into a feeling of hopelessness the next day. A few things would snap me out of my funk - Daniel - When he'd come home from work and he'd give me these long, strong hugs that made me feel so supported and he assured me that everything would be OK. Zoe - When she would come sit next to me and Finnegan and put her little arm around me and reach to pat her brother's head. Finnegan - When he would settle in my arms and just look at me with this peace like he was so secure with where he was, with me. And each day I felt sad less. And things got easier. That's not to say that things are easy now. It was silly of me to think that adding a second child to our family would be easier than the first. I thought I knew it all. I mean, not really... but sort of. I knew how to hold, change, feed and bathe a newborn. I knew how to rock a baby to sleep, how to burp them and to ALWAYS be prepared with a burp cloth or accept the consequences. I knew that I loved Finn from the moment I learned he even existed. I could not ever have imagined that after he would arrive I would feel so out of sorts. At first I felt guilty - like I'd let Zoe down and that she was never going to feel as loved as she had before Finnegan was born. That first time she came to the hospital to meet Finn she had been so timid and curious about the baby I was holding in my arms. She got closer for a look and he wailed like newborns do. She burst into sobs and reached out for me to hold her, but I couldn't because I had Finn and an IV and I was weak. And that look on her face when I couldn't take her broke my heart and I cried with her. Even though she had completely forgotten that drama five minutes after it had passed, I carried that sadness with me for weeks. At that moment I realized how hard this was all going to be - having a toddler who was so independent, but still very much my little baby, and a newborn who depended on me to give him everything he needed. I felt sad that as much as I wanted to give them each 110% of myself, I didn't have that much to offer and I had no idea how I would divide my time. When you have two little ones crying how do you choose which one to comfort?! The answer is, you choose both - just maybe not at the same time. In the last few months I've had to learn that sometimes, one of them is going to have to cry while the other is seen to. I've learned to assess their cries. Is one just crying because the other is? Is one in danger or pain? If both are just crying because they are cranky, tired, or hungry, which can be comforted the quickest so I can get to the other? I'm learning that while these little ones share some similarities, they are very much their own little person's. They have different personalities and temperament. They have their own ways of wanting to be held and soothed. Finn is not Zoe 2.0, he is Finnegan 1.0 and I'm learning that as in sync as I am with him, I don't know him as well as I know Zoe - yet. But every day I know him even better than the last. Every day I feel stronger and more confident than I felt in those first weeks. Every day I am further from that sadness and able to enjoy every crazy, beautiful, hilarious, exhausting, and enriching moment more. I am a happy mother and wife... so happy that anything - even more children WAAAY down the road, seems possible and exciting. Maybe. This afternoon, Finnegan was having one of his fussy moments. He was bursting into tears every time I walked away from him because he wanted me in his line of sight; wanted me to hold him every second. After going back and forth for almost an hour, I went to him and gently put my hand on his heaving chest. "I am here for you, Finnegan. Even when I am five feet away, in the next room, or whatever, I am here. Be calm." And I swear to you, he looked at me with such concentration and consideration the entire time I spoke, then he sighed quite seriously, and flashed me the biggest grin I'd ever seen him give. Every day we are learning and understanding each other more.

FIVE

She was our first kid. We brought her into our tiny little apartment five years ago this week. Back then we thought getting a puppy would add even more joy to our lives - we were right. Turns out, Bailey was our test run with having someone depend on us as a couple, working together. There were some hiccups: accidents in the house, CD's were eaten, books shredded, her face puffed up after being stung by a bee, etc. But she was the ingredient that helped us grow from a couple to a family as soon as we took her home. Now we live in a house with a big backyard for her to share with her pug brother, Max. She's now one of four... with two younger human siblings. But Bailey will always be our little, neurotic, "Stinkbutt". At five years old - her birthday was January 3rd - she's still very much a puppy in that troublemaker way.... and a very important member of our family. Happy Anniversary, Bailey!

Show and Tell

This is the bridesmaid dress that I will be wearing a week from this Saturday in my hometown, Palm Springs. Well, Palm Desert, actually... but no one ever knows where I'm talking about unless I say "Palm Springs". Daniel likes to make fun of me when I just say "the Desert". He says it sounds so ominous. "I grew up in the Desert." Like I lived off the land on my own and rode a camel or something. Anyway. That was a tangent. So, I had to give my measurements for this lovely dress when I was nine months pregnant because of the timing. THIS: just happens to be my ginormous "baby belly" the day* I placed the order. Can I just say how ridiculous that was? Why does it have to take so long to have a dress made anyway? And how lame is it to have to give super big numbers that you know are going to change days after you give birth?! When I told the lady I was having a baby 13 days from when we talked and that my measurements were going to shrink considerably, she told me she doubted I would lose any of the weight by the end of March.... to which I said: fuckyouverymuch. Fine. I totally didn't say that, but I was so hormonal that I really could have. ANYWAY. I lost the weight and then some and this bad boy had to be taken in quite a bit. Yay, me. Well, yay breastfeeding... because I'm pretty sure that's how I lost it all. I'm by no means where I want to be weight wise, but I'm sort of ok with how I look in this thing. * - How cool that I had the foresight to take a pic on that day so I could blog about it now?!

Conversations with Finn

"Hey, Mama!" Hi, Finnegan! "Look at me lifting my head like a big boy!" I know! You are such a big, strong boy! "Pretty darn impressive, no?" VERY! You impressive me every DARN day, Finnegan! "I can haz milk now?" Sure. Let me just get a couple more so I can show you off to Nana, Grammy, Baba, Grandpa Rick, and your MANY other adoring fans. "Do you know how long I've been waiting?" Not long at all, actually. Finn, you are a very well fed boy. Have you SEEN your cheeks?! "Feed me now, woman!" Now, now, son. There's no need to get cranky. You just ate an hour ago! "The service here sucks." Well, the patron sucks too! Badumbum! "Seriously, this is the last one. Rrrright?" Yes. For now. I love you, baby.

A Side By Side Comparison

Zoe at eight months/Finn at almost three months - sleeping in Target shopping carts 1. Look how precious they were/are! 2. That cart cover was one of our best baby purchases, ever. 3. I must be boring to shop with.