I've got a case of cabin fever, and have obviously been having a little of the mean reds too, so I've decided to reflect on the little things that make me happy.
February is a short month, but I'm sure that if I write about one thing per day that makes me smile, my spirits will be soaring before I know it!
If you join me in my venture by posting a comment for every day through February 28th, I'll do a drawing for a free children's book!
(Yes, I'm promoting those Usborne books again. They really are great!)
So today's thing that makes me smile is PJ's motivated laugh. It's not the belly laugh he makes when I tickle him, but the sound he makes as he's making his way over to me when, say, I look at him across a room and smile. It's this sucking in/breathing out combination that sounds a lot like the noise you hear when you move your straw up and down inside the lid of your medium Diet Coke at McDonald's. Love it!
How about you? What's one little thing someone does that makes you smile?
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Whoa
That last post was rough, I know.
But I'm glad I wrote it.
It's not like I sit and think about those things all the time. I have two sweet boys who are lively and happy and so much fun. They're a welcome distraction. It's just that every now and again, if something reminds me of what happened, it's still right there, just below the surface.
I know that in time, the wound will heal. It will leave a scar, but it won't keep opening as easily.
I'm anxious for that day to come.
In other news, PJ is all over the place. He's got crawling down so well, he's like a streak, zipping all around the house. His favorite pastimes are climbing the stairs, pressing all the buttons on every piece of audio-visual equipment we have, and lately, walking down the hallway behind his little push toy! (Video of the last one to come)
Jack amazes me with his ability to piece sentences together. He speaks very well - almost frighteningly so. If you ask him to identify a letter of the alphabet, he also gives you a word that begins with that letter. Example: "Jack, what's this letter?" "Dat double-yew, for wagon!" (What the heck??) His new favorite toy is Play-Doh, which he's recently put a blob of up his nose.
Way up.
(Green, of course.)
I didn't see it happen, and as I was putting him down for a nap, he started sniffing and snorting oddly, then said simply "I put Play-Doh in my nose." Great.
Fortunately, he's a really good nose-blower. I'm just hoping this isn't indicative of things to come. I mean, can I give him jelly beans for Easter?
But I'm glad I wrote it.
It's not like I sit and think about those things all the time. I have two sweet boys who are lively and happy and so much fun. They're a welcome distraction. It's just that every now and again, if something reminds me of what happened, it's still right there, just below the surface.
I know that in time, the wound will heal. It will leave a scar, but it won't keep opening as easily.
I'm anxious for that day to come.
In other news, PJ is all over the place. He's got crawling down so well, he's like a streak, zipping all around the house. His favorite pastimes are climbing the stairs, pressing all the buttons on every piece of audio-visual equipment we have, and lately, walking down the hallway behind his little push toy! (Video of the last one to come)
Jack amazes me with his ability to piece sentences together. He speaks very well - almost frighteningly so. If you ask him to identify a letter of the alphabet, he also gives you a word that begins with that letter. Example: "Jack, what's this letter?" "Dat double-yew, for wagon!" (What the heck??) His new favorite toy is Play-Doh, which he's recently put a blob of up his nose.
Way up.
(Green, of course.)
I didn't see it happen, and as I was putting him down for a nap, he started sniffing and snorting oddly, then said simply "I put Play-Doh in my nose." Great.
Fortunately, he's a really good nose-blower. I'm just hoping this isn't indicative of things to come. I mean, can I give him jelly beans for Easter?
Friday, January 30, 2009
Raw
So this is going to be one of those it's-my-blog-I'll-do-what-I-want posts.
It's a doozie. If you don't feel like reading a doozie, close your browser window now.
My reasons for posting it are twofold:
First, if you have never gone through a miscarriage, you might not understand how difficult it is, or even why it's so difficult. I wish I'd been more sympathetic toward my friends who'd been through one before me.
I'm not asking for sympathy - I have amazingly supportive family and friends. Seriously...amazing!
Second, I suppose that if I'm using this blog as something akin to a journal, it may be helpful to look back and reflect on these feelings I'm having.
I can't believe how affected I still am by it. I didn't really talk to many people about my fears or the things that made it so hard, but a girlfriend who's had more than one miscarriage emailed me yesterday to ask how I'm doing.
The flood of words, feelings and tears that poured out of me as I replied surprised me. I was shocked at how raw I felt - still. Like maybe there was just a thin scab covering the surface of a wound that had been accidentally sloughed off. I'm anxious for the wound to heal, but I don't want to pretend it's not hurting when it is.
So this post is my reply to her, with very little editing. It's raw. It's shocking.
It's how I feel right now, two weeks later.
As far as how I'm feeling, I'm okay. Just okay. I think I'm better than okay and then I see someone's ultrasound and burst into tears picturing the first ultrasound we had of our little one. When I first saw it, after I'd been spotting a few days and we were checking things out, I saw the baby in there and thought "Whew! There he is - he's okay!" And then she told me to hold my breath so she could try to hear a heartbeat and I started to cry. I knew that by 9 weeks I shouldn't have to hold my breath. I just remember that moment so vividly and felt like I was watching my baby die in there. It killed me. Then there were two MORE ultrasounds after that showing my not-quite-empty-yet, then empty uterus.
Another thing that kills me - that I flushed the toilet. When I knew it might be coming, the thought of flushing just horrified me. I couldn't imagine it, though I didn't know what the alternative was. Then, when it actually happened, it was so unexpected - like I didn't have any cramping at all, just sat down on the toilet in the middle of the night and PLOP! This huge thing fell out. I just yelled "Oh my God!" and Patrick came running in. I told him what had happened and that I couldn't look. I just didn't want to look in there. He said he would look, but when I got up, the water was so bloody I couldn't see a thing. And then....I flushed. I just didn't know what else to do....fish it out? I could tell by the plop that whatever it was, it was big...so it was more than just the baby, it was...what??...tissue? the placenta? blood clots? Probably all of the above - I don't even know. But now, when I think about it, I feel horrible that I flushed. I get a pit in my stomach about it. I don't know what I would have done if I'd fished him out...or if I'd have even found him in all the "stuff," but I just picture that little bean on the ultrasound and think, dear God, was that heart still beating when he fell out? Was he already dead? I am sobbing as I'm typing this...I think about it every day.
There is just so much about it that I never expected...emotionally and physically. How did you do this more than once?? My heart breaks for you, and it breaks to think that I didn't reach out to you more when it happened. Send you flowers, a card, call, bring you dinner...I'm so sorry! I'd find myself just sitting and staring into space after it happened - lost in my thoughts, reliving the moment, the ultrasound, everything, unable to believe it had happened and desperate to figure out what I'd done 2.5 weeks ago that might have caused the baby to stop growing. Hardly able to even think about Jack and PJ. Thank God my Mom was here!
And even though I would love more children, I'm scared to be pregnant again.
So, when you shot me that little email, I'm sure you weren't expecting all this in return. It's such a hard thing to explain all the feelings that come with miscarriage to someone who hasn't gone through it. Heck, after it happened and I cleaned up in the bathroom, Patrick went back to sleep! God bless him, he's the most loving, sensitive, supportive man in the world, and it was 3:30 a.m., but there was NO WAY I was going back to sleep. I just sat there, cramping yet numb. It killed me that he was lying there, snoring away, but I don't know what I'd have wanted him to do if he were awake. He needed to sleep; he worked the next day. I know guys grieve differently, and the distraction was good for him, but gosh...that was hard for me.
I'm comforted knowing that God's ways are not our ways. I have never NOT understood how God could let something happen as much as in a miscarriage...or worse, stillbirth. I've always wondered why on earth he even begins the pregnancy only to have it end. People say "it wasn't meant to be" (please tell me I didn't say that to you!) and I think, then why did I get pregnant, you know? But I don't want to pull a Job and question God. If He's good when good things happen, he's good when bad things happen too. He doesn't change. I just have to trust that He has a reason that I might never know.
I like to think that the baby is in heaven to pray for and welcome the onslaught of unborn babies that are sure to arrive now that Obama's in office. God, I hope he doesn't institute the Freedom of Choice Act!
It's a doozie. If you don't feel like reading a doozie, close your browser window now.
My reasons for posting it are twofold:
First, if you have never gone through a miscarriage, you might not understand how difficult it is, or even why it's so difficult. I wish I'd been more sympathetic toward my friends who'd been through one before me.
I'm not asking for sympathy - I have amazingly supportive family and friends. Seriously...amazing!
Second, I suppose that if I'm using this blog as something akin to a journal, it may be helpful to look back and reflect on these feelings I'm having.
I can't believe how affected I still am by it. I didn't really talk to many people about my fears or the things that made it so hard, but a girlfriend who's had more than one miscarriage emailed me yesterday to ask how I'm doing.
The flood of words, feelings and tears that poured out of me as I replied surprised me. I was shocked at how raw I felt - still. Like maybe there was just a thin scab covering the surface of a wound that had been accidentally sloughed off. I'm anxious for the wound to heal, but I don't want to pretend it's not hurting when it is.
So this post is my reply to her, with very little editing. It's raw. It's shocking.
It's how I feel right now, two weeks later.
As far as how I'm feeling, I'm okay. Just okay. I think I'm better than okay and then I see someone's ultrasound and burst into tears picturing the first ultrasound we had of our little one. When I first saw it, after I'd been spotting a few days and we were checking things out, I saw the baby in there and thought "Whew! There he is - he's okay!" And then she told me to hold my breath so she could try to hear a heartbeat and I started to cry. I knew that by 9 weeks I shouldn't have to hold my breath. I just remember that moment so vividly and felt like I was watching my baby die in there. It killed me. Then there were two MORE ultrasounds after that showing my not-quite-empty-yet, then empty uterus.
Another thing that kills me - that I flushed the toilet. When I knew it might be coming, the thought of flushing just horrified me. I couldn't imagine it, though I didn't know what the alternative was. Then, when it actually happened, it was so unexpected - like I didn't have any cramping at all, just sat down on the toilet in the middle of the night and PLOP! This huge thing fell out. I just yelled "Oh my God!" and Patrick came running in. I told him what had happened and that I couldn't look. I just didn't want to look in there. He said he would look, but when I got up, the water was so bloody I couldn't see a thing. And then....I flushed. I just didn't know what else to do....fish it out? I could tell by the plop that whatever it was, it was big...so it was more than just the baby, it was...what??...tissue? the placenta? blood clots? Probably all of the above - I don't even know. But now, when I think about it, I feel horrible that I flushed. I get a pit in my stomach about it. I don't know what I would have done if I'd fished him out...or if I'd have even found him in all the "stuff," but I just picture that little bean on the ultrasound and think, dear God, was that heart still beating when he fell out? Was he already dead? I am sobbing as I'm typing this...I think about it every day.
There is just so much about it that I never expected...emotionally and physically. How did you do this more than once?? My heart breaks for you, and it breaks to think that I didn't reach out to you more when it happened. Send you flowers, a card, call, bring you dinner...I'm so sorry! I'd find myself just sitting and staring into space after it happened - lost in my thoughts, reliving the moment, the ultrasound, everything, unable to believe it had happened and desperate to figure out what I'd done 2.5 weeks ago that might have caused the baby to stop growing. Hardly able to even think about Jack and PJ. Thank God my Mom was here!
And even though I would love more children, I'm scared to be pregnant again.
So, when you shot me that little email, I'm sure you weren't expecting all this in return. It's such a hard thing to explain all the feelings that come with miscarriage to someone who hasn't gone through it. Heck, after it happened and I cleaned up in the bathroom, Patrick went back to sleep! God bless him, he's the most loving, sensitive, supportive man in the world, and it was 3:30 a.m., but there was NO WAY I was going back to sleep. I just sat there, cramping yet numb. It killed me that he was lying there, snoring away, but I don't know what I'd have wanted him to do if he were awake. He needed to sleep; he worked the next day. I know guys grieve differently, and the distraction was good for him, but gosh...that was hard for me.
I'm comforted knowing that God's ways are not our ways. I have never NOT understood how God could let something happen as much as in a miscarriage...or worse, stillbirth. I've always wondered why on earth he even begins the pregnancy only to have it end. People say "it wasn't meant to be" (please tell me I didn't say that to you!) and I think, then why did I get pregnant, you know? But I don't want to pull a Job and question God. If He's good when good things happen, he's good when bad things happen too. He doesn't change. I just have to trust that He has a reason that I might never know.
I like to think that the baby is in heaven to pray for and welcome the onslaught of unborn babies that are sure to arrive now that Obama's in office. God, I hope he doesn't institute the Freedom of Choice Act!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Photo gifts and more!
Check out my CafePress store to find photo gifts like these:
Know someone who's having a baby soon? Want to send thank you notes for baby gifts you've received? These little blank note cards are the perfect way to do it!
Use these larger blank cards to send a note to a friend. In this age of Facebook and email, it's so nice to receive a hand written note in the mail. It's a lost art, I think. I love to send cards and letters to friends to let them know I'm thinking of them.
And, of course, there are lots of fun books and more on my Usborne site. If you're looking for activities to do on winter days inside, check out the sticker books, kid kits, puzzles, search books and more! Click here to visit my Usborne Books & More site!
Know someone who's having a baby soon? Want to send thank you notes for baby gifts you've received? These little blank note cards are the perfect way to do it!
Use these larger blank cards to send a note to a friend. In this age of Facebook and email, it's so nice to receive a hand written note in the mail. It's a lost art, I think. I love to send cards and letters to friends to let them know I'm thinking of them.
"It's your birthday. Get a little crazy." That's what it says inside this cute card featuring a photo of my nephew, Michael, in one of his sillier moments. (Don't worry - that's water in the glass. No children were intoxicated in the shooting of this photo.)
To view these gifts and more, click here, or on the CafePress icon over there to the right.
And, of course, there are lots of fun books and more on my Usborne site. If you're looking for activities to do on winter days inside, check out the sticker books, kid kits, puzzles, search books and more! Click here to visit my Usborne Books & More site!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Snow day!
It's time to lighten things up around here, don't you think?
Gosh!
(Did you read that in your best Napoleon Dynamite voice?)
It snowed a few inches here yesterday, and I'm disappointed that we didn't get something a little more honest-to-goodness - you know, like something you have to shovel off the driveway, and not just sweep - but I'll take it.
Jack was introduced to Play-Doh yesterday, so surprisingly, rather than play in the snow, he was occupied at length making doughy snakes and tunnels for the snakes to go under.
We suited up first thing this morning, though, and he and I had fun in the snow!
Here's the view out the back door:
Gosh!
(Did you read that in your best Napoleon Dynamite voice?)
It snowed a few inches here yesterday, and I'm disappointed that we didn't get something a little more honest-to-goodness - you know, like something you have to shovel off the driveway, and not just sweep - but I'll take it.
Jack was introduced to Play-Doh yesterday, so surprisingly, rather than play in the snow, he was occupied at length making doughy snakes and tunnels for the snakes to go under.
We suited up first thing this morning, though, and he and I had fun in the snow!
Here's the view out the back door:
I know it's kind of gross, but I love the runny nose in these pictures. It's just the epitome of care-free, childhood fun in the snow!
Thanks so much for all your prayers and support! We felt it!
Have a great week!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Coming to terms
It's been a rough week.
I think I'd begun to get myself ready for the emotional impact of a miscarriage when I started suspecting something was wrong, but I was ill prepared for the physical impact. It's a much longer process than I thought it would be. I'm still in the throes of it, and every trip to the bathroom is a vivid reminder of our loss. It's physically painful and exhausting with no little baby to show for it, and that makes it hurt even more.
The grieving process has brought me through the same stages I'd experience with any other loss - blaming myself, envy towards other people who are experiencing healthy pregnancies right now, questions about who this little person might have been. I've been surprised by some of these feelings, and I imagine it's difficult for someone else to understand them, considering I was only pregnant for such a short time. I mean, it's not like losing an infant, or a two-year-old, right? While it's true that the knowledge I have of my boys would make their loss more grievous, a bond still existed between the baby and me that is hard to explain.
I dreamed that I was pregnant with a little girl before I even suspected I was pregnant, so I had been thinking pink; hence, my reference to the baby as "her" in my previous post. Of course, at only 9 weeks, I had no idea whether the baby was indeed a girl. A little part of me wonders if that was my only chance at having a girl, and of course I then regret any feelings I had about not wanting a girl. (Gosh, our minds can be our worst enemies sometimes, can't they?)
We're hurting, but healing, and while I wish I could understand the whys, I know that God is in control and His ways are not our ways.
I think I'd begun to get myself ready for the emotional impact of a miscarriage when I started suspecting something was wrong, but I was ill prepared for the physical impact. It's a much longer process than I thought it would be. I'm still in the throes of it, and every trip to the bathroom is a vivid reminder of our loss. It's physically painful and exhausting with no little baby to show for it, and that makes it hurt even more.
The grieving process has brought me through the same stages I'd experience with any other loss - blaming myself, envy towards other people who are experiencing healthy pregnancies right now, questions about who this little person might have been. I've been surprised by some of these feelings, and I imagine it's difficult for someone else to understand them, considering I was only pregnant for such a short time. I mean, it's not like losing an infant, or a two-year-old, right? While it's true that the knowledge I have of my boys would make their loss more grievous, a bond still existed between the baby and me that is hard to explain.
I dreamed that I was pregnant with a little girl before I even suspected I was pregnant, so I had been thinking pink; hence, my reference to the baby as "her" in my previous post. Of course, at only 9 weeks, I had no idea whether the baby was indeed a girl. A little part of me wonders if that was my only chance at having a girl, and of course I then regret any feelings I had about not wanting a girl. (Gosh, our minds can be our worst enemies sometimes, can't they?)
We're hurting, but healing, and while I wish I could understand the whys, I know that God is in control and His ways are not our ways.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Counting our blessings
WARNING: Even though that's an optimistic title, this post is going to be a bit of a downer.
I'll just cut to the chase. We lost our baby last night. Or I guess I should say I lost our baby last night. If we're not pregnant, then we can't miscarry, right? Though this is one burden I'd be glad to share, and Patrick's doing an amazing job helping me to shoulder it.
I was going to post this weekend about the fact that I'd been having a little cramping and maybe ask for some extra prayers...but the weekend got away from me.
I won't go into all the gory details, but suffice it to say, I was only 9 weeks pregnant and it could have been much worse! I was afraid about how painful a miscarriage was going to be, but I either have a really high pain tolerance, or mine wasn't particularly bad, for which I'm so grateful.
I'm also grateful for the fact that I already have two sweet little babies to cuddle and kiss. This would have been so much more difficult if it were my first.
I'm thankful for lots of family and friends who have offered their support, including my Mom, who's been here helping me with the kids since Monday.
I'm thankful for the most amazing, compassionate, understanding, encouraging and supportive husband in the world who just reminded me that he has an infinite supply of hugs and kisses to help me get through this.
And I'm thankful that I have one sweet little baby in heaven who will be waiting for me when I get there. There's something reassuring about that.
It's surprising how much we bond with our babies when we're pregnant, isn't it? Even though she wasn't moving around in there yet, I still thought of her all day, every day. I already loved her.
It is so hard to understand God's purpose for things like this - what could possibly be the point of creating this tiny life, only to take it away before anyone got to appreciate it? But that's the thing, I guess. It makes us appreciate life so much more. And God is good, even when it hurts.
I love you, sweet little baby! I can't wait to meet you some day! - Your Mommy
I'll just cut to the chase. We lost our baby last night. Or I guess I should say I lost our baby last night. If we're not pregnant, then we can't miscarry, right? Though this is one burden I'd be glad to share, and Patrick's doing an amazing job helping me to shoulder it.
I was going to post this weekend about the fact that I'd been having a little cramping and maybe ask for some extra prayers...but the weekend got away from me.
I won't go into all the gory details, but suffice it to say, I was only 9 weeks pregnant and it could have been much worse! I was afraid about how painful a miscarriage was going to be, but I either have a really high pain tolerance, or mine wasn't particularly bad, for which I'm so grateful.
I'm also grateful for the fact that I already have two sweet little babies to cuddle and kiss. This would have been so much more difficult if it were my first.
I'm thankful for lots of family and friends who have offered their support, including my Mom, who's been here helping me with the kids since Monday.
I'm thankful for the most amazing, compassionate, understanding, encouraging and supportive husband in the world who just reminded me that he has an infinite supply of hugs and kisses to help me get through this.
And I'm thankful that I have one sweet little baby in heaven who will be waiting for me when I get there. There's something reassuring about that.
It's surprising how much we bond with our babies when we're pregnant, isn't it? Even though she wasn't moving around in there yet, I still thought of her all day, every day. I already loved her.
It is so hard to understand God's purpose for things like this - what could possibly be the point of creating this tiny life, only to take it away before anyone got to appreciate it? But that's the thing, I guess. It makes us appreciate life so much more. And God is good, even when it hurts.
I love you, sweet little baby! I can't wait to meet you some day! - Your Mommy
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
PJ being PJ
Now that he pulls himself up on everything, PJ's favorite new way to interact is across the ottoman. While I wish he was a little better at naps right now, it's fun having some one-on-one time with him while Jack's sleeping.
God, please let this new baby be a good sleeper! I've paid my dues!
(One of those ones who sleeps through the night from 4 weeks on would be ideal.)
It's not to early to start praying this prayer daily, is it?
Monday, January 5, 2009
Walks with Jack
Tonight after dinner, Jack said he wanted to take a walk with Mommy again to "Yook at da Chri-meh yights."
I must say, this has become one of my new favorite things.
We got all bundled up and headed out the door, with him narrating the entire time.
"We walking down da hill!"
"I walking with Mommy!"
"I want walk by YOU!"
In passing a neighbor's house, Jack noticed that they had some large (fake, plastic, lightable though unlit) candy canes lining their driveway. The following conversation ensued:
Jack: Yook at dose candy canes!
Me: Yeah, look at them. They're big!
Jack: I want yick dat candy cane?
Me: You want to wha - oh Jack no! Yucky! That's not a real candy cane; it's just pretend.
Jack: (smacking his lips) I pretend to eat it! (which sounds like "ee-weh")
Me: Okay, you can pretend to eat it.
(a few seconds later)
Me: Come on, Jack, let's finish our walk.
Jack: (to the candy canes) Bye bye, candy canes. I takin' a walk with Mommy! I see you again amorrow.
I must say, this has become one of my new favorite things.
We got all bundled up and headed out the door, with him narrating the entire time.
"We walking down da hill!"
"I walking with Mommy!"
"I want walk by YOU!"
In passing a neighbor's house, Jack noticed that they had some large (fake, plastic, lightable though unlit) candy canes lining their driveway. The following conversation ensued:
Jack: Yook at dose candy canes!
Me: Yeah, look at them. They're big!
Jack: I want yick dat candy cane?
Me: You want to wha - oh Jack no! Yucky! That's not a real candy cane; it's just pretend.
Jack: (smacking his lips) I pretend to eat it! (which sounds like "ee-weh")
Me: Okay, you can pretend to eat it.
(a few seconds later)
Me: Come on, Jack, let's finish our walk.
Jack: (to the candy canes) Bye bye, candy canes. I takin' a walk with Mommy! I see you again amorrow.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
I missed it!
Well, yesterday was my one year blogiversary ... and I missed it.
Nausea and fatigue have settled in like unwanted house guests and the new focus of my days has been trying to stave them off.
It's a good sign, I know, and I'm glad I decided to enjoy the nausea-free weeks of early pregnancy instead of worrying that something was wrong, like I did with the first two. Unfortunately, though, if I thought it was hard keeping up with Jack when I felt nauseous with PJ, keeping up with both of them is even harder. I have no tolerance for two-year-old tantrums - even when they're as few and far between as Jack's are. I'm ready for bed by 7 p.m.
We had a relatively low-key holiday season, which was perfect. Family came here on Christmas day, and then Patrick had the whole week off between Christmas and New Year's day. We did next to nothing, which I know bummed him out a little bit (his to-do list was posted on our blackboard weeks before vacation started and I think he got...let me see...NONE of the things on it done). But I know he was going fast and furious to meet his year end deadlines for work and he really needed the down time. We vegged out, we spent way too much time online, and we played with our boys. It was just perfect.
Oh, we also moved Jack into a toddler bed! He's so tall that he's been easily able to swing one leg up and over the side of his crib for a while now, and we wanted to avoid the eventual fall. My brother and sister-in-law gave us a toddler bed that their little ones had grown out of and we painted it black to match the furniture in Jack's room. Eventually, Jack, his toddler bed, and his furniture will be moved into PJ's room, the boys will share a room, and Jack's room will become the nursery.
Jack is very excited about this, and PJ, who adores his big brother, is going to be thrilled, I'm sure. I just hope they will actually sleep in there together.
We could never have known, when we moved into this house in August of 2006, that just three years later the bedrooms would be filled with three little children! It's unreal.
And finally, just to continue the whole lack-of-rhyme-or-reason theme of this post, following is a conversation that just took place:
Me: Jack, I think you're cute.
Jack: No, my not cute.
Me: Yes you are cute!
Jack: No, no my not cute.
Me: Okay, then I think Daddy's cute.
Jack: No, Daddy not cute. My cute.
Me: You're cute?
Jack: Yeah. Mommy cute and my cute.
Nausea and fatigue have settled in like unwanted house guests and the new focus of my days has been trying to stave them off.
It's a good sign, I know, and I'm glad I decided to enjoy the nausea-free weeks of early pregnancy instead of worrying that something was wrong, like I did with the first two. Unfortunately, though, if I thought it was hard keeping up with Jack when I felt nauseous with PJ, keeping up with both of them is even harder. I have no tolerance for two-year-old tantrums - even when they're as few and far between as Jack's are. I'm ready for bed by 7 p.m.
We had a relatively low-key holiday season, which was perfect. Family came here on Christmas day, and then Patrick had the whole week off between Christmas and New Year's day. We did next to nothing, which I know bummed him out a little bit (his to-do list was posted on our blackboard weeks before vacation started and I think he got...let me see...NONE of the things on it done). But I know he was going fast and furious to meet his year end deadlines for work and he really needed the down time. We vegged out, we spent way too much time online, and we played with our boys. It was just perfect.
Oh, we also moved Jack into a toddler bed! He's so tall that he's been easily able to swing one leg up and over the side of his crib for a while now, and we wanted to avoid the eventual fall. My brother and sister-in-law gave us a toddler bed that their little ones had grown out of and we painted it black to match the furniture in Jack's room. Eventually, Jack, his toddler bed, and his furniture will be moved into PJ's room, the boys will share a room, and Jack's room will become the nursery.
Jack is very excited about this, and PJ, who adores his big brother, is going to be thrilled, I'm sure. I just hope they will actually sleep in there together.
We could never have known, when we moved into this house in August of 2006, that just three years later the bedrooms would be filled with three little children! It's unreal.
And finally, just to continue the whole lack-of-rhyme-or-reason theme of this post, following is a conversation that just took place:
Me: Jack, I think you're cute.
Jack: No, my not cute.
Me: Yes you are cute!
Jack: No, no my not cute.
Me: Okay, then I think Daddy's cute.
Jack: No, Daddy not cute. My cute.
Me: You're cute?
Jack: Yeah. Mommy cute and my cute.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)