Bonus Baby

This is my first post in seven months. My baby is seven months old. I have so many fragments of posts floating around in my head and what prevents me from writing them down is always this feeling that posts need to be made in chronological order, and how can I fast forward and write about something seven months after the birth of our Grand Finale, without actually writing about her birth or anything else right after that?

(sigh)

But nothing will ever, ever get posted if I follow that rule. Someday I will go back and post about Grand Finale’s birth and the days directly after that period, not because it’s particularly earth shattering or might apply to someone else, but mostly because this blog is an online memory book for our family and I’d like to be able to go back and read it someday.

This post, on the other hand, may be applicable to someone else, and I think it every single day:

Adults generally use the term “bonus baby” as a tongue-in-cheek way to refer to a baby who wasn’t exactly planned. A happy accident. An oops. A bonus baby.

While Grand Finale was very much planned, I very, very much consider her to be my bonus baby.

Every single day, I look at her and think to myself, “What if you never came to be? What if we had been too scared or too nervous to say yes to what we felt in our hearts? What if we had convinced ourselves that we couldn’t handle it, or that we wouldn’t have enough time or money?”

And then I look at her and I THANK GOD that she came to be.

Every day. That’s what I think.

She is SO MUCH a cherished and beloved member of our family. Her sisters adore her. They dote on her, care for her and help us to entertain and occupy her. And she reciprocates with BIG grins when she sees them.

Sisters

WE adore her. She is such an easy baby. She was sleeping 11-12 hours a night by the time she was 8 weeks old. At 7 months she’s still very mellow. She’s by far our most snuggly baby.

As Monkey said one day, “She’s a cute bug.”

When I look at her, I try to picture our family without her — would we be happy? Sure! Would we love our other two kids to death? Of course! Would we parent the same? Pretty much.

If we had remained a family of four, I think there be less chaos, more order, two little girls who would grow up to be BFFs forever and who would be used to receiving more attention and things. I probably would be more stressed out trying to maintain my version of parenting “perfection” (because with “only” two kids it seems more doable).

I think our family-of-five dynamic will be more chaos, less order, three girls who will grow up to be BFFs forever, and who will have a greater understanding of sharing, more selflessness and compassion, and hopefully more appreciation for things because there will be less of them. In place of things, they’ll have what I believe is the greatest gift we could have given them — a sibling.

If we had never had Grand Finale, we would have been a happy family of four.

But we would have never known what we were missing. Even in her seven short months, Grand Finale already added so much depth, richness and perspective to our family.

Love.

The baby is frosting. And I’m just so, so, so thankful to have her. I’m so happy we trusted our gut, and also so grateful that things worked out and that I had a healthy pregnancy.

And for that reason, although she was very much planned, she is my bonus baby.

And my takeaway to you, is that if you’re feeling like you want another child, but you’re just not sure if you can “handle” it, or if you have “enough” time or money, DO IT. You won’t regret it. That’s how I felt six days after Grand Finale’s birth, and that’s how I still feel today.

I’m So Glad We Get to Do This Again (and, an explanation)

Blogging has just not been a top priority for me lately — as much as I’ve wanted it to be. Usually I’ll have a story running through my head; a partial post bursting out of my brain; funny or introspective thoughts I’ll want to run by other parents. Normally I’ll be scrambling to get it written down and the words just pour out. But for the past four months I just haven’t had the head space. Not that I haven’t had the constant chatter in my head … because I have … it’s just seemed like an insurmountable task to actually get those thoughts down on paper.

This pregnancy has been much harder on me mentally and emotionally than my pregnancies with Monkey and Bean. I don’t know exactly what accounts for that … except that I know that every pregnancy is different. And I have a sneaking suspicion that it has a lot to do with already having two young kids to take care of. Add to that the overall growing pains of raising a young family, i.e. some terrible two’s, growing independence, and general “WTF am I doing as a parent anxiety,” plus work obligations and ding, ding, ding — you get some major emotional/mental exhaustion which leads to more crabbiness, short temperedness, anxiety. Don’t forget the extra credit — the hormones and physical tiredness and limitations that come with every pregnancy.

I honestly think that the physical limitations of pregnancy sneak up on you so slowly and gradually that it’s almost unnoticeable until one day you’re just SO frustrated that you can’t fit between the bathroom door and the sink to brush your uncooperative 4-year-old’s teeth and you just LOSE it and yell “WOULD YOU COOPERATE SO I CAN BRUSH YOUR TEETH!!?” And then you realize that you just totally overreacted, and yes your 4-year-old is being a pain, but you’re mostly just pissed because dammnit, you cannot MOVE normally.

And as far as the hormones go, all I’ll say is that in the moment your reactions seem rational. And for anyone who’s never been pregnant and thinks that the whole “hormones” thing is just some ploy to act like a crazy person, believe me, it’s not. Because honestly, no one wants to feel like a crazy person.

OH! And the extra, extra credit — being pregnant during the summer of 2012. Do you think that will be a thing that women who are pregnant this summer talk about? “YOU were pregnant during the summer of 2012?? OMG, ME too! That HEAT was just unbearable, and I just didn’t go outside for like three months, unless I could lay in a pool like a beached whale and not move and be jealous of everyone with their fruity drinks, and we kept the air set to 73 degrees, but I was *still* always hot, and it was just miserable, and …”

I think what drove all this home for me (why I’m experiencing this added mental/emotional exhaustion) was being away with my husband for our final “babymoon” this past weekend. We quite literally, did nothing. We ate, we walked, we sat, we walked, we sat, we ate, we slept.” Repeat. No one needed our attention. We didn’t have to follow anyone else’s agenda. We were only concerned about our own needs. There were no stressors or obligations. We watched all the other parents enjoying the three-day holiday weekend with their kids and we were a little sad that our kids weren’t with us, and envious of all the family fun. In the moment, I tried to remind myself how much harder it would be if the kids were with us, how the weekend would not be ours, and that I needed to just relax and enjoy the alone time. I told myself that those kids were probably being pains. But still, I was a tad sad and we were really excited to get home Sunday afternoon.

And then after I got home on Sunday afternoon I wasn’t so excited to be there. Because damn, they need A LOT of attention! And at times they can be pains! And I am TIRED! But seriously. This is what I realized — I did nothing while we were gone. I did nothing except eat, walk, sit and sleep, and I was still physically tired and limited (there was no light hiking as I hoped; baby being in VERY uncomfortable positions made slow walking and sitting the only things comfortable). So take me, already tired, physically limited and uncomfortable, and add caretaking and stressors of everyday life and work, and yeah. I’m kind of crabby! So I guess this weekend made me realize there’s probably nothing earth shattering about why this pregnancy has been more emotionally/mentally draining, except for normal things that have left me with little motivation to tackle extra things.

Hence, not much head space left over for blogging. I guess I feel like I’ve been surviving these past few months as opposed to thriving.

BUT, what I’ve also realized in the last few months, is that I’m so glad we get to do this again.

My brother-in-law is getting married this month to a wonderful girl and in June they asked me to look through my photos to see if I had any of the two of them together. So I started in 2010, the year they started dating and the year Bean was born, and boy. I really started to miss two-year-old Monkey and baby Bean. I may have shed a few tears.

It made me realize how glad I am that we get to have another baby. I can’t wait for the snuggling and the feedings and even the diaper changes. I can’t wait to see how this third person will enliven and enlarge our family. I can’t wait to see what she looks like, and slowly peel back the layers of her temperament and personality. I can’t wait to see Bean in the role of two-year-old big sister, like Monkey was for her. I can only imagine how Monkey will fill her role as biggest sister. She is such a nurturing soul, and already is instructing us about when, how and where she wants to hold and feed her baby sister.

Honestly, they’re both so excited. Have I mentioned that they both walk around with their loveys stuffed up their shirts and ask me if I want to feel their babies move?

This little girl is already such a blessing to our family and I really feel like she completes us. After being so indecisive about should we or shouldn’t we have a third, I feel so privileged that it was even an option.

With Monkey setting the pace for us, I’m just so happy that I get to experience all these stages again one more time.

New Beginnings

It’s been almost four months since I’ve blogged, and this post isn’t even necessarily about the fact that I’m only about four weeks away (!) from having this baby. Or the fact that we’re having our THIRD girl!

No. What’s top of mind for me tonight is that my first baby is going off to 4k in the morning.

How did that even happen? When she’s sleeping at night and I check on her before I go to bed, I just stare at the long legs, the long hair, and the very big kid sleeping in the bed. I picture her as a teeny newborn and it’s a little mind boggling to realize how very, very quickly this all goes.

I’ve had these realizations before. Especially after having more than one child. The second time around it’s easier to keep things in perspective when your infant isn’t sleeping through the night, or you’re trying to get rid of the pacifier, or struggling through potty training — it’s easier to tell yourself, “This will only last a few [fill-in-the blank — days, weeks, months].”

As a parent, we’re so excited when our child reaches a new level of independence, be it sleeping through the night, being able to wash his/her own hands, getting their own water. Let’s be honest, mostly because it means less work for us.

But my latest realization was different — for the first time, I realized how truly short a time period it is that our kids are 100% completely dependent on us.

I mean, between six and nine months babies are already less dependent on us because they’re crawling. They can move away from us. Bean was walking at 9.5 months.

Wow, right? At nine months old, NINE MONTHS, the amount of time it took you to grow them, they’re already doing things independently. Without you.

And it just snowballs from there. Their independence milestones just keep getting bigger.

As a parent, we feel like our job is to “raise” this new life. To take care of them, provide for their needs. They NEED us, right?

But really, I’m starting to realize that our job as a parent is to teach them how to succeed in life … without us.

And that’s just a little sad, isn’t it?

I remember my mom wistfully telling me (as an adult) “I gave my kids wings so they could fly.” As an adult, I thought that was great! Now as a parent that makes me boo hoo hoo. I think it’s the hardest thing in the world to so lovingly and tenderly put so much time into another human being just to watch them walk away from you.

Monkey’s first day of school tomorrow reminds me of the first time I dropped her off at my mother-in-law’s house to go back to work after maternity leave. The girls’ Nana has been watching them four days a week since they were 10 and 12 weeks old, respectively. They LOVE their Nana and love going to her house. They’re usually a little disappointed on the weekend when we tell them “No, you’re not going to Nana’s house today, you get to stay home with Daddy and me!” (much to our chagrin).

I remember trying to be really brave and matter of fact when I dropped Monkey off that first day back to work. I almost made it too, until I started bawling at the last minute and then basically had to run out the door. I was so sad that someone else was getting the privilege of spending 8-9 hours of the day with MY baby and that someone wasn’t me. Someone else was getting to *be* there. I was jealous.

Ultimately the experiences Monkey has had over the last 4.5 years at Nana’s house — the memories she’s made and the bond she has with her Nana — have been a benefit to everyone, including me and especially her. The same is true for Bean.

And I know that school will be SUCH a blessing for Monkey. She is so looking forward to it. She will love it and she will thrive. She has an inquisitive nature and it will be so wonderful to watch her mind growing right before our eyes.

But it’s definitely bittersweet. It’s hard to watch this child I love so much take another small step away from me. Even though she was in preschool two mornings a week last year, this is a bigger step. Every day there will be another person, aside from her Nana, her dad and me, who will occupy a central role in her life and development. Another person will get to spend 3+ hours a day with her that I won’t get to spend with her.

My friend who is a teacher wrote this last night and I can only hope all of our kids will experience a teacher or teachers like this in their lives:

“I am excited as always for the first day of school. Parents who are nervous about sending their kids to school: remember, your children are spending the day with peers, but they are also being welcomed, taught, challenged, cherished and watched over by teachers who open their classroom doors, their arms and their hearts to your children. Teachers, remember that tomorrow your rooms will be filled with the most important people in the world, and every one of them is their parents’ heart and soul and pride and joy. Handle with care. And parents, remember, we teachers teach because we want to love and guide your children. We know you see your child as a miracle; know that we do, too. Work with us, and know that we take what you say to heart, and we have the very best intentions in what we do to help your child grow and thrive. Most importantly parents, talk to us. Give us the feedback we need to make the most of our time with your child. I know that it is hard to believe that anyone could feel about your child the way you do — but know that your child’s teachers spend the majority of their lives trying to do and give everything they can for the students they’re blessed to work with. Have a beautiful first day of school everyone!”

I’m hoping I can keep my boo hoo hooing to myself.

Why I’m Not Hoping for a Boy

We have two girls. Two wonderful, lovely, beautiful girls. So must people assume that we’re hoping this baby is a boy. Nah. It’s so cliché, but we’re just hoping for a healthy baby.

There would be pros and cons to having a boy or a girl.

I would love to have a boy because it would be a whole new experience. It would be something totally different. And it’s nice to think of Husband having that dad-boy relationship that I have with my girls. He’s a terrific dad to the girls, and at the same time it would be nice for him to have a boy to balance out the estrogen.

I would love to have a girl because as excited as I would be about the whole new “boy experience,” it simultaneously scares the sh*t out of me. At least with girls I kind of have a clue about what I’m doing. I remember one night at my grandma’s house when my cousin (who’s like my sister) was sitting on the floor with me and we were both changing diapers. My cousin has two boys. I was changing Bean and she was changing her son K. We both looked at each other’s baby’s (opposite) parts and she said, “I have no idea what to do with that.” And I said, “I have no idea what to do with THAT!” At least I’m familiar with my daughters’ parts!

If we have a boy I think it will be easier for me not to compare my kids to each other. Especially when it comes to comparing the baby to the first two. It’s already hard enough for me not to compare Monkey and Bean.

If we have another girl, I’m afraid that the baby will break up the super close bond that the older two girls have. On the other hand, I have two best friends. I know it’s unlikely to have two best friends, and you’re probably thinking that surely I’m closer to one than the other. But I’m not. I truly do have two best friends. And in many instances, having one of us stay neutral while the other two get worked up, has helped resolve conflict faster. So I think it could be awesome for them to each have two sisters.

Regardless of whether it’s a boy or girl, those girls are going to looooooooooove on that baby like you just won’t believe. They were baby obsessed before, but I think they’re going to take it to a new level. They just LOVE babies (real and pretend).

With all of that said, it’s still fun to guess, right!? After all this time, Monkey is still hankering for a brother, while Bean wants a sister. We told them that one of them will get what they want. 😉

For what it’s worth, my intuition told me “boy” from the moment I got a positive pregnancy test. I refer to the baby as “he.” However, lately I have been doubting my intuition because this pregnancy has been pretty much the same as the other two.

Here’s what the old wives tales have said:

• The Chinese pregnancy calendar says GIRL, and it was correct for both Monkey and Bean
• The baking soda test says GIRL (pee in a cup and if it sizzles it’s a boy; if it does nothing it’s a girl)
• The baby’s heartbeat has been over the place. At my six-week ultrasound it was 137. I had another ultrasound at 9 weeks and it was 178. At my last two check-ups it’s been in the 150s. Typically when we listen with the Doppler at home it’s in the 130-140 range. With the girls, the heartbeat was usually in the 150s-160s. The last time I input the heartbeat in the above gender prediction tool it said BOY, but it has said GIRL before, too. So it’s a toss-up.

Husband thinks it’s a girl. We’ll find out tomorrow if my mother’s intuition is right! (it was right for both girls)

What do you think!??

(And if you’re so inclined, please say some prayers for a healthy baby)

I’ve Never Been Pregnant on Mother’s Day Before

This gallery contains 10 photos.

And other observations at 19 weeks of my third (successful so far) pregnancy So I’ve never been pregnant on Mother’s Day before this year … isn’t that interesting? I got pregnant with Monkey at the end of July and she was born April 21. While I wasn’t pregnant with her on Mother’s Day, she was […]

Shining a Light

Reading everyone’s comments on my post yesterday made me a little emotional. In a good way. It was so affirming for me.

As I had hoped, getting all our thoughts, fears and concerns written out instead of stuck in our heads, shined a light on our situation and we realized that we probably had the decision made all along — but on those super tough parenting days when no one is listening, everyone is purposely being naughty, the kitchen floor looks like there’s been a food fight, the crying and whining won’t stop and no one’s going to bed easily — you look at each other and go “We must be effing crazy to even consider this.”

But as my friend Anna, summed it up: “If your heart tells you that you have more love to give, then everything else will just fall into place.”

And as several of you said, “You will not regret it, but probably would if you didn’t.”

A few other key takeaways for me:

Whether you’re going from zero children to one, or one to two, or any number, you have concerns about “will we be able to handle it mentally and financially.”

Well, duh. I hadn’t thought of that before, but that’s so true! These are the same questions we ask ourselves when we’re considering any big life change — buying a house, changing jobs, having kids.

It’s the fear that holds us back. The fear of the unknown. You get comfortable with the ways things are, and change is risky.

But as another friend said, “As a mother you can adjust to ANYTHING. Especially for the sake of your kids.”

Amen. Eventually, caring for three kids would become a routine and there would be nothing scary about it. We would adapt.

And finally, I had never heard anyone say that the “KNEW” when they were done, but apparently people feel that way just like others intuitively know when they’re not done. And we definitely don’t feel like we “know” we’re done.

Thank you to the many of you who said “God will provide.” It’s comforting to know that other people believe this too.

I encourage anyone who’s having this discussion in their household to read all of the comments. Also, a mom-of-three friend sent me a list of very thought provoking questions. I honestly appreciated so much her taking the time to help me think through some very realistic scenarios. I thought about my responses, and I’m including the questions here in case it helps someone else decide:

1. School — this includes homework AND seeing their performances. School plays during the day time, concerts at night. Homework with three kids!
2. Don’t worry about the money. That’ll come and you’ll find a way.
3. Vehicles — eventually you will need a new vehicle. Someone is going to want a friend to come along. Be prepared.
4. Uh, plain and simple. The amount of work doesn’t double when you go from one to two. It increases exponentially. LOL. And that is NOT a joke. But the JOY increases exponentially, too.
5. Babysitters — it is WAY harder to find someone to watch three kids. Even grandparents, not that they don’t love the kids, but it can be overwhelming with so many. You can always find two sitters, but then you worry if one cancels, who is the backup, who goes where … etc. This is easier as they get older.
6. Sicknesses — a third child is a fifth person to be bringing germs into the house, which is another vehicle for illnesses. More doctor bills, more time off work, etc.
7. Think of the WORST DAY EVER POSSIBLE with having three kids (short of any life threatening things). Someone is begging to go for a bike ride, but hasn’t done her homework, someone has the flu, and baby three is ripping apart books. Your husband is late at work, no mothers can come over, and you have a long list of work to get done (still make dinner, clean up after the kids, basically do everything on your own). On this worst day (and it’s likely to happen many times over and over again), do you think it would cross your mind that you might wish you didn’t have the third baby. I could tell you my answer, but you need to figure it out for yourself.
8. There are moms of multiples who have successfully raised well adjusted, happy kids into adulthood. It is possible for you to do it, too!
9. Your world will be turned upside down, sideways to the left, to the right, back upright, to the left, upside down, right side up, to the right, to the slight left, spun a few times if you have a third. But it did that after the second, and it did that after the first. You’ve been there before. You can do it again.

Thank you for your affirmations, your encouragement and your positive thoughts.

Thank you for helping my brain understand what my heart already knew.

Unfinished

I guess it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to many people who know us, since we’ve been blathering about it and asking family members and friends for opinions, but Husband and I are considering having a third (and final) baby.

We pretty much always thought we would have a third baby, but thought it would be prudent to reserve final judgment until we actually had one baby. And one baby was so fantastic (and in hindsight, so easy with a 2:1 ratio), that we went ahead and got pregnant again when Monkey was 13 months old. Our goal was to have our kids about two years apart. Aaand we succeeded (21.5 months apart).

Bean is just over 18 months old now, and to realize that I was six-ish months pregnant when Monkey was that age, is jaw-dropping to me. Because man, two kids is a whole boatload more work than one.

But, obviously I wouldn’t have known that. And honestly, I wouldn’t change it either. They have a super close bond and I think they’ll be the best of friends.

However, when Bean turned one in February, I was VERY CERTAIN that I would not be getting pregnant the next month. We decided that if we were going to have another baby, we wanted them to be a little more than two years apart.

Well, guess what folks. The time is nigh.

Husband and I have been throwing this question around for the last three months.

Should we have another baby?

Here’s the big picture. I don’t feel done. WE don’t feel done. I didn’t feel like my last pregnancy was my last. I guess I knew it could be. But I didn’t think it would be.

When we think about what our family will look like in 10 years, 20 years — our adult children coming home, all of us sitting around the table on Thanksgiving —  two people does not seem like enough. Both Husband and I have large extended families — his mom has six siblings and my mom has eight! We revel in those large family gatherings with aunts and uncles everywhere, loads of cousins and now our cousins’ children running and screeching about. It’s chaos.

And believe me, I don’t want six children of my own. But two? Two doesn’t seem like enough. Three kids though? Three kids bring the possibility of three spouses and maybe even six grandchildren. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.

Affecting me more in the present is that when I look at friends’ pictures of their three kids — when I see those three faces, I think “I want that.”

On top of that, we’re fairly certain that we would regret not having a third baby. I actually have several friends and acquaintances who have told me that they regretted not having another baby (whether that was baby #3 or #4). Which motivates me to think, “Go for it.” Yet, don’t you think they made the decision they did because it was best for them at the time?

Or maybe they were slightly paralyzed by the indecision that we seem to find ourselves in.

The trouble is, that the day-to-day details of existing, can be hard. Not every day, although we do seem to be going through a tough couple of weeks.

Bean is at a hard age right now. She is super challenging. She presses all my buttons. But, I keep reminding myself that even if I got pregnant in the next 2-4 months, maybe longer (although probably not because that’s always been a blessing of mine), she would be at least 2.5 years old. And that’s actually a pretty manageable age, considering that she’ll be really verbal by then. Our experience with Monkey was that once she hit the two-year mark her tantrums dramatically diminished because she could communicate what she wanted, and we were able to reason with her (as in, STOP RUNNING CIRLCES AROUND PARKED CARS, because IT IS DANGEROUS).

Here’s the big BUT.

BUT, are we underestimating how hard it will be and how much work it will be?

Are we underestimating the expense? I doubt that we would be able to pull off half of two kids’ college educations, much less three.

I tend to be more of the romantic mindset of “we’ll figure it out.” And so does Husband. Is that foolhardy? In situations past, we’ve made cuts when we needed to make cuts. But there are certain things that are very important to Husband and me — we want to take biannual family vacations with our kids. We want the road trip experience to South Dakota and Washington D.C. We want the annual trip to the water park or the state fair. We want to go to Disney (not multiple times, but at least once). Will we price ourselves out of these things, leaving us and our kids disappointed?

Normally I’m a “gut” decision maker. My gut says, “Do it.”

It’s my head that’s screwing everything up.

Primarily my head is asking me, “It’s really hard at times right now. Can you really handle it? Are there things you’re not considering?”

I want to be the best mom I can be, or at least “good enough” most of the time. I don’t want to be overwhelmed and stressed the majority of the time. I don’t want frustration and anger to dominate my interactions with my kids.

Am I capable? I don’t want to short change my kids.

This is a bigger decision than I thought it would be.

I want to trust my instincts, but I’m afraid of not thoroughly thinking it through.

I know we could wait longer until Bean is even more independent. I know that technically, we don’t have to make this decision right now. But I’m going to be 33 this year, and 35 is considered “advanced maternal age.” So if you want to get technical, we really don’t have that much more time.

More importantly, our personal choice is that we don’t want to wait much longer.

Primarily, because life is getting to a pretty nice stage right now. We have some freedoms. Monkey is starting pre-school next week and then next fall she’ll be in half-day Kindergarten every day. She no longer needs a nap. Bean only takes one nap a day, there are no bottles, and soon enough we’ll be diaper free. To have several more years of increasing “freedoms” to go places and do more things, without having to worry about the kid-missed-a-nap-meltdown, will make it really tough to start over again.

We don’t want to get too far away from the 3 a.m. feedings, diaper blowouts, pooping in the bathtub, food-throwing stage.

So for us personally, we don’t want to wait much longer.

My actions have not demonstrated my indecision:

• Three months ago I bought Woombies when they were featured on a mom bargains Web site (and ironically, they’re on sale again today) — I figured that if we didn’t have another baby that I could always give them to someone as a baby shower gift.
• I’ve been researching how we could fit three car seats in our sedan because we can’t afford a new vehicle, and I almost bought a narrow booster seat that would make the configuration work (I think) — I rationalized that we’ll need a booster for Monkey anyway. I stopped short only because it’s money that we don’t need to spend right now since she’s at least a year out from needing it.
• I haven’t wanted to part with any of my baby clothes, maternity clothes or baby gear (and actually have been asking for things back).

My gut is saying yes.

Are there things we’re not considering? Can we handle it?

I want my brain to say yes.

For the last several months I have been asking a lot of my mom-of-three friends to give me the good, the bad and the ugly (THANK YOU!). I’ve even been asking perfect strangers for their thoughts.

And I have been praying, asking God to open my heart to the right decision.

So this is one of those opportunities for you to go ahead and give me your advice, because I’m actively soliciting it! What do you think? Are you or have you struggled with this decision? What did you end up deciding?

As a side note, two other big pros are that the girls are extremely nurturing and I think they would love another (REAL LIVE) baby. They already fight like cats and dogs over the baby dolls. Also, we have an absolutely awesome childcare situation since my mother-in-law watches the girls and has said that she would be willing to take on another baby. Although, we better just triple check that 😉

Feel free to weigh in.

I should also note that it’s rather uncharacteristic of me to so publicly talk about our reproductive intentions since this has always been something we reserved to very close friends and family members. While I’m pretty open about sharing my thoughts and feelings, and asking questions, the whole “having kids” thing wasn’t something I liked to share with just anyone. In part we kept it private because we struggled with miscarriages. For some reason, maybe because we have two kids already and it would be okay if we couldn’t have anymore, I’m feeling more open about it. More likely because I’m tired of having an internal debate and I need to get my feelings OUT. (Don’t worry, Husband gave me the ok)

Laboring — In All Its Many Stages

Earlier this evening I was waxing nostalgic because my sister-in-law is in the hospital AT THIS MOMENT giving birth. Here was my status:

Thinking about [sister-in-law] in labor right now kinda makes me want to have another baby. It’s just such an amazing and exciting time – the prospect of meeting a whole new person that you helped make, and who will have his/her own personality, and who you will spend a lifetime loving. A-mazing.

She commented back, “You can take my place right now if you want! 😉 this is so not fun!”

In short order, my sister-in-law will find that everything she endured during labor was ALL worth it.

And I guess that’s something that, as a parent, you continually need to remind yourself of. Because as is wont to happen during child-rearing, you find yourself in a “stage” (and aren’t they always stages? It’s just a series of never ending stages?). We currently are in A STAGE with Bean. And if we don’t get out of THIS STAGE soon, I think I might have to go into her mouth and start pulling the non-protruding teeth out with a pliers. Because I’m just not so sure how long I can handle THIS STAGE.

Teething. Ugh. It seriously is nev-er end-ing. It was really, really bad about a month ago. And then it was better for a week or so. And now it’s just depressingly bad and annoying again. It’s the crying. The crying and the clinging and the crying. And the taking extra, extra long (along with extra time and attention from us) to fall asleep at night, the waking up in the middle of the night, and the waking up too early in the morning. Dear Bean’s teeth: PLEASE COME OUT NOW.

The fact that I was all nostalgic about having another baby, and then a mere 15 minutes after my “here and now” children arrived home I wanted to hide in closet with cotton stuffed in my ears, is just typical. Typical of what every parent goes through.

Even when you have the benefit of an older child, and you rationally know that these stages don’t last forever, it just FEELS like forever sometimes.

But, as in the case of labor during childbirth, the “labor” of raising a child is worth it (and this is oh so much clearer when your children are asleep, are not crying, screaming or otherwise clamoring for attention, and you are enjoying some free time).

Bye, bye, bye?

Speaking of stages, I spontaneously decided to wean Bean (hey, as Monkey would say, “that rhymes!” She has been rhyming some choice words lately, but more on that some other day) from the nuk tonight. You may remember we’ve been considering this for awhile. I wasn’t really planning on it. I was just annoyed with all the crying and carrying on at bedtime, and it just seemed like the nuk wasn’t helping. So why even bother with it?? We had experimentally cut the tip off of one of her five remaining nuks two months ago, just to see her reaction. It was pretty funny. She kept playing with it in her mouth. Taking it out, looking at it. Popping it back in. All the while not sucking on it. Her reaction pretty much mirrored Monkey’s when we did it to her.

So tonight, after my third trip into her bedroom to give her back the nuk she threw out, I decided to replace it with the one with the severed tip. She took it fine. Laid down. Played with it in her mouth. Of course I had to sit in the chair next to her crib until she fell asleep (because I tried to just hug her and leave three times and that sure didn’t work), but she had no issues with the nuk.

I honestly think she’ll be fine. We’ll keep giving her nuks with the tips cut off for the next 5-7 days, and I think she’ll just lose interest. We did the same thing with Monkey and finally on the seventh night or so, we just didn’t give it to her and she never even noticed. I’m hoping the same will happen with Bean.

I feel like Bean doesn’t even really need it like she thinks she does. She does more chewing on it than she does sucking. And it’s starting to become more and more of a crutch for us. Since she’s been so crabby lately, we’re starting to shove it in her mouth at the least provocation (aka, ALL THE TIME).

So we’ll see what happens.

Not much crying, but still teary

Speaking of the Beaner, her tear duct probe surgery turned out to be SO totally fine and not nerve-wracking at all. Thank you everyone who said prayers, wished us luck, or sent us positive thoughts.

The nurse gave her some sort of liquid sedative, which she warned tasted awful, and Bean proved by spitting most of it out. But apparently all she needed was a little bit to take the edge off. And then miraculously, when the anesthesiologist came to take her, she went right with him!!! She looked out the door, interested in all the action going on, and never looked back at us. No crying, no fuss. I was happily stunned. Oh! And I didn’t cry at all either!

The ophthalmologist performing the surgery came out to talk to us about 10 minutes later. Yes, seriously. He was able to get the probe about 75% of the way through (he warned us in advance that if it became difficult to pass the probe he would stop and not force it). Since he wasn’t able to get the probe all the way through, the procedure doesn’t have as high of a success rate (80-90%), but still better than 50-50.

Another 10 minutes passed and the nurse came to get us, saying that Bean was awake and we could come and be with her. Much to the amusement of the nurses, when they woke her up and a female nurse reached for her, she burst into tears and reached for the male anesthesiologist again! I don’t know, she must have thought he was cute!!

By the time we got to her she had been crying kind of hard, but she calmed down right away. After a pulse and oxygen test, we were out of there. The procedure began at 7:30 a.m. and we were back home by 8:20. Crazy!

Unfortunately for us, I don’t think the procedure worked. The ophthalmologist said that we would know for sure in 2-3 weeks, and it’s been just over two weeks. So far, Bean is still tearing. Her eye isn’t getting as gunky, but it’s definitely still tearing. Argh. If it doesn’t improve in the next several days, then I guess we’ll ultimately have to schedule an appointment at Children’s to have a tube placed in her tear duct to keep it open.

What the ophthalmologist failed to mention the first time he talked to us about our options, was that in most cases, the tube can be removed through the nose in the doctor’s office — thus it won’t require two procedures like I’d previously thought. I really wish I had known this because I think it may have been in our best interests to just do the tube procedure in the first place. While I’m no longer a nervous nelly about the anesthesia for the second procedure, the probe wasn’t cheap, and I don’t want to have to pay for a second surgery.

The royal marketing machine. I mean, wedding.

I have a mild interest in the wedding of Prince Whatshisname? Right. William. I seriously had to think about it for a minute. I still couldn’t remember and I had to ask my husband. Prince William and Catherine (who will no longer be known as “Kate” post-wedding) Middleton.

So I’ve been paying pretty minimal attention. I’ve glanced at the occasional article on People.com, but the idea of getting up at 4 a.m. to watch it was ridiculous to me. And I certainly wasn’t about to DVR it, because I don’t have six hours to watch it at some later point at my leisure. More importantly, I don’t have enough space on my DVR. I do regularly keep up with pop culture, but I figured I would just catch some highlights and call it a day.

And then … I thought, but this is one of those things that happen in a lifetime. One of the (thankfully non-tragic things) that people will always remember and talk about it. This is a huge pop cultural event. I think I kinda want to see it live. Plus, who doesn’t love a good wedding?

But still. It’s just not that important to me that I want to drag my butt out of bed at 4 a.m. to stare bleary-eyed at my TV screen for five hours. I have to do something else with that time.

And then I realized there are any number of things I could do with my time if I did indeed decide to get up at 4 a.m. And watching the Royal Wedding would make those tasks a little more enjoyable. (I do have a history of working during the wee hours of the morning anyway, so what the hell.)

For example:

• Paying bills and balancing the checkbook (I absolutely abhor this task and I tend to put it off; it MUST be done tomorrow)
• Folding kids’ laundry
• Ordering a swimming suit from Lands’ End
• Checking flights to Vegas for my future sister-in-law’s bachelorette party

I will not, however, be throwing a viewing party. Unless for some reason you wanted to come over and balance your checkbook too. Or, in case my favorite neighbors wanted to stop by with Starbucks and doughnuts. I’m just saying. I’ll make sure to dress appropriately. And by appropriately, I don’t mean with royal wedding-watching garb. I just mean with clothes on.

If you’ll be watching too, facebook me. And don’t forget the doughnuts!

Letter to My Three-Year-Old

When I looked at you in the rearview mirror this morning on the way to your Nana’s house, you somehow looked older. Your hair was all curled up thanks to the layered haircut you got last week, and your bangs were swept to the right side and held by a magenta flower hair clip. You were looking out the window and I felt like I noticed a difference from yesterday when you were two, to today when you’re officially three years old.

I glanced at your sister on the other side of the car, who was looking out the opposite window, and felt like you just looked like that — it seems like yesterday when you were 14 months old.

Monkey, 14 months

14-month-old sunbather

THREE YEARS. It’s been three years since my life changed in the most wonderful and miraculous of ways. It simultaneously feels like less and more time has passed.

Monday, April 21, 2008, 12:30 a.m.

You were born at 12:30 a.m. after an hour and a half of pushing. It took your daddy two tries to cut the umbilical cord and then they laid you on me, all bloody. It was what I wanted. I remember feeling absolutely amazed at what had transpired. I couldn’t stop saying to your daddy, “I can’t believe we made her.” It was truly the most remarkable and miraculous thing to happen in our lifetimes.

There really was no hope of sleeping after you were born. By the time we made it up to the recovery room, it was 2 a.m. The the nurse gave you your first bath and we didn’t try to go to sleep until around 3:30 a.m. Your daddy fell asleep immediately, but I couldn’t sleep. I just kept staring at you and touching you to make sure you were still breathing. I was on such an adrenaline high.

One-day-old Monkey

Monkey, you are such a joy. Your personality is SO BIG. You are exuberant. You are alternately sensitive, yet defiant. You want to be heard. Things always have to be done a certain way. You are stubborn. You are empathetic and concerned about the well-being of others. You are confident in your own opinions. You want to feel included at all times. You are caring and nurturing.

You get many of these traits from me. While it has been challenging for me at times to deal with my own personality, I think I’ve got it figured out, and I think it will serve you well, too.

You love Dora, chocolate, ice cream and anything sweet. You love to be outside. I think I could push you on the swings for three hours until my arm fell off and you still wouldn’t be tired of it. You want a dog. You want to help with everything, including making every meal. You ask to help wash the dishes every night and you want to help with the laundry and unloading the dishwasher. You take great pride in your accomplishments and you basically want to do everything by yourself. You love to bake with me. Your curiosity is unbridled. You have an amazing memory. You’re creative and want to draw, color, paint — and your latest — cut with a scissors. You still love to cuddle, and sometimes when we lay down with you at bedtime you ask to hold our hand. (I heart this).

You probably are one of the funniest people I know. Obviously, I’m biased, but you make me laugh out loud on a daily basis. When one of my aunts sees pictures of you, she says, “I can just see her thinking, ‘I’m so funny’ because you probably tell her that every day.” And I think I do tell you that almost every day.

You are learning how to identify and express your emotions, and you communicate in such a way that it makes me feel like you’re older than you are. You listen to everything we say and ask questions about difficult subjects that I’m not sure how to explain.

You continue to become your own person and I’m in awe of the process. I’m also a little nervous. Because from the moment you were born and every day since, you’ve taught me how to be a parent. You’ll always be my first born, my test case, the one I make the most of my mistakes on.

It was a slightly terrifying time to be a first-time mother, feeling overwhelmed and incapable, and in typical “you” fashion, you didn’t make it any easier on me. That’s okay though, because you force me to be my best. And I want to be my best for you. We’ll keep figuring it out together. So far, I think we’re doing a pretty good job.

I am so happy to be your mama.

She looks so big here that it kind of takes my breath away.

April 21, 2011 - Someone's sister wasn't interested in a birthday morning photo shoot.

Happy third birthday to my great big girl.

Here Nuky, Nuky, Nuky

Okay guys, I need some advice from you other parents. Bean is 13 months old and is seemingly getting more and more attached to her nuk. We typically only let her have it for naps and nighttime. But then there are some exceptions like during car rides when she’s kind of freaking out, or at church which is during her naptime and she’s tired and cranky.

But lately I see it becoming more and more of an “attachment” or comfort object for her. I don’t know if she’s truly getting more attached to it, or if it’s because she’s teething and has a cold, and wants it for comfort (meaning, maybe in a few more weeks it will be back to no big thing).

All I know is that I’m having a hard time not giving in and giving it to her during other parts of the day when she’s freaking out or tired and cranky. Because let’s be honest — it’s so much easier to give in and give it to her now, but then so much harder later on.

But I really, really try not to give in because I’ve just never wanted my kids walking around 24/7 with a nuk. (disclaimer: that is totally my personal preference, no judgment on anyone else who thinks differently). And I’m afraid the more she has it, the more she’ll want it all the time.

Right now, when Bean wakes up in the morning or from a nap, usually the first thing she does is take the nuk out of her mouth and hand it to us. But then if she sees it later? WATCH. OUT.

For instance. This morning while I was getting Bean changed, she saw the nuk on her dresser, and when I wouldn’t give it to her, proceeded to have a nuclear meltdown akin to the Chernobyl disaster, complete with kicking, screaming, tears, spitting, and of course a runaway nose due to her cold. This continued for the next 20 minutes while we finished getting ready to leave, up to and including buckling her into her car seat, which set off a second nuclear wave. Finally, after looking in my rearview and seeing the snot comingling with the spit, and getting pretty close to a nuclear reaction myself due to the unrelenting, ear-piercing screams, I turned on the AM static really loud. She was stunned into silence and then her eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared out the window the rest of the ride. (Incidentally, these are the moments I’m going to be reminding myself of when we’re on vacation and I get sad and start to miss them. This and the fact that every time I wipe their noses, they still manage to smear snot on their faces, then I have to wash their hands and their faces, and then apply lotion because their faces are all red and dry, only to have them sneeze again, IMMEDIATELY after I get done with that whole process. UGGGH.)

With Monkey, we decided to ax the nuk around 18 months. Partly because I knew Bean was on the way, and I really didn’t want to have two kids fighting over nuks (you can ask my cousin about that ;)), but mostly because it was becoming a huge inconvenience in my life. Even though Monkey also only had the nuk at nighttime and naptime, she was still waking up 2-3 times per night in search of the dang thing. And of course she couldn’t find it, so that was 2-3 times a night that Husband and I were in her room, feeling around in the dark, running out to the kitchen to get another one, etc. It was getting super annoying.

So because it was inconveniencing my life, we decided it had to go. Going cold turkey did not work for Monkey. But, with a lot of helpful advice from all of you, we decided to cut the tip off of her nuks, and within a week they were ALL. GONE. And it was so not a big deal. I was expecting it to be a HUGE deal. But it was the biggest non-deal ever. I couldn’t even believe it. And once she stopped counting on it to put herself back to sleep in the middle of the night, we were making far fewer 3 a.m. trips into her room.

I feel like I’m kind of in the same boat right now. In addition to seemingly wanting the nuk all the time during the day (which Monkey didn’t), Bean also is waking up 2-3 times a night in search of it, even when she’s not teething and is cold-free.

I’m really torn. If it wasn’t impacting my life, I would let her go another 5-6 months with the thing. The girls’ pediatrician (whom I adore), said the easiest time to get rid of it is now. BUT, she qualified that with, “or whenever you’re ready.” She’s not concerned about it harming the alignment of her teeth or anything like that. She just agreed that the older they get, the harder it is to get them to give it up.

But, I also feel like I’m taking away the last of her babyhood — that I’m rushing her to grow up, which isn’t really what I want at all. I just want her to stop FREAKING OUT when she doesn’t have the darn thing, and I’d rather not be woken up 2-3 times a night (when she’s healthy and not teething).

So what do you think? Has anyone else done nuk weaning fairly early like this? How did it go? Thoughts, suggestions, comments?

To ax, or not to ax.