Dear Annie

Originally written on May 28, 2008


Dear Annabel -

Here we are, 2 weeks after you squawked and clawed your way into the world, and I am just now sitting down to write you your birth day letter. Funny thing happens the second time you have a baby.....you still have another little person expecting life to go on as he knew it. So, your momma has been busy, to say the least. But don't you worry. I still remember May 12 as if it happened yesterday.

We knew when you would be born. I got to pick the day. How cool is that?? Of course, you could have come any time you wanted...but if you were willing to wait, I wanted you to come on May 12. It was the day after Mother's Day and I really couldn't imagine a better gift for me than you.
And you know what? I was exactly right. When the doctor held you up and told me you were a girl....well, all I could do was look at your little red face and that head full of dark hair and weep in gratitude.

My baby girl.

I didn't know how much I wanted to have a little baby girl until you came along. Lots of people find out what kind of baby they are having (we did with your brother), but your daddy and I decided to let you be our very special surprise. And then there you were, our beautiful daughter. In an instant, I knew that you were exactly what I have always wanted and I fell completely head over heels in love with you.

You and I were in the hospital for 3 days and 3 nights and they were the best moments of our life so far (even with the nurses coming in at all hours of the night to bother us). It was just you and me. Like a Girl's Only vacation, you and I got to sleep and snuggle and cuddle and eat and nurse and do whatever we wanted, just us. Your daddy went home every night to take care of your big brother, and while it was hard taking care of you by myself (Mommy was SORE), I knew that I would never have a time when it would be just the two of us again...or at least for a long while....and I wanted to soak up all your deliciousness to sustain me through the adjustment back to family life when I would begin my new role as mommy to two (two!!) fabulous kids.

It was an interesting change of pace for all of us when we got home, especially for your brother. He has always had me and daddy to himself and now he is sharing us with you. It is a little hard for him. He was very excited to finally see you after you were born. I think he was getting tired of me talking about the baby in my belly all the time.... he was ready to see proof!! Now he is not so sure about how he likes being a big brother, but don't you worry, he will come around. He loves you, I know that. And he is proud of you, I know that too. More than anything else, what I want you to know about him is that he is the person solely responsible for making me into the mommy you have today. You owe a lot to him....not that I am in anyway a perfect mother, but he was the guinea pig that I tested my methods on, poor little guy. He taught me what to do, and while it wasn't always easy and I made loads of mistakes, he did a really great job. It is because of him that I know not to panic when you cry, that I know just how to hold you to help you burp, that I know how to relax when I nurse you, and that I know how important it is to live in the moment each day, because those moments pass so quickly. He is a sweet boy, a wonderful human being and I am so glad that you now have each other to love.

So here we are, 2 weeks after you were born, and we are fumbling our way through our days trying to figure each other and our new family out. You're totally worth it. I wake up every morning and feed you, then you and I snuggle back into my bed for another hour or two of sweet sleep. Sometimes, even though I am so very tired, I lay and watch you sleep, overcome with so much love and gratitude for your very existence. One of the clearest memories of your birth is late one night, I think you were 1 day old, and I was sitting on the side of my bed watching you sleep in your little plastic baby box. We were alone and it was so quiet. I was thinking to myself how beautiful you are, how perfect and how sweet. And I couldn't believe you were mine. I was crying a little when the nurse came in to check on us, and I was a little embarassed, so I explained to her that before you were born, I wasn't sure I would ever get a chance to do this again, be a mom, and I had been absolutely terrified to go through childbirth again, for many reasons. "But you did it anyway", was her reply back.

Yes I did.

You are a gift in many ways, Annabel, the least of which is that you healed a part of me that was still aching and sad, even after 3 years. Your life gave me back a strength and courage I thought I had lost. And you filled a piece in our family puzzle that we never knew was missing.

I love you, sweet Annie. You are my very best girl.

Hugs and juicy kisses,

Mommy

Fear With a Side of Worry

Originally written on May 20, 2008

Annabel has an irregular heartbeat and we met with a pediatric cardiologist today. Not exactly what he had planned for our tiny little baby girl, especially not a week in. Fear has sat heavy upon my chest the entire day.

Our consultation went fine. The echocardiogram looks normal. Annie will need to wear a monitor for 24 hours to monitor the frequency of the irregularity, we send the data box back in and then we wait. That should be fun.




Update: Everything appears to be okay. Annie does have an irregular heartbeat but the doctor seems to think that it is nothing to be too concerned about (ha!). All we will need to do is bring her back in at 1 year to run the tests again. Thank God.

Grandmas and Grandpas

Big Brother

These first pictures of Liam with Annabel make my heart swell....especially since it is the most attention he has paid her since.

The Requisite Hospital Pics....

And then there were four...

Welcome, sweet Annie

I love you more than words can say.....

Annabel Elise
May 12, 2008
4:27pm
8lbs, 5 oz
22 inches

Seven Down......

Originally written on May 5, 2008

Seven to go.

One week from today I will finally meet the small wonder that has been occupying my abdominal space these past many months....prime real estate that apparently once belonged to my colon, if the past few weeks have been any indication. We (all 3 of us) will be glad to hang the vacancy sign out once and for all.

I am quite surprised at how calm I am feeling given the upheaval that is about to be visited upon my life. I have been trying to remember back to those first exciting and new (and numbingly exhausting) days of Liam's first weeks, but I can just barely get a true sense of them anymore. Sure, I remember them, but I can't quite conjure the physical and emotional feel. And while I am glad to have the opportunity to experience that magical terror again..... I am also sitting here wondering "what the hell am I doing?"

Liam has hit his stride, momentarily, and we are really, really enjoying ourselves (mostly). The battles have diminished, the tantrums are slowing, he is wowing me every single second with his cleverness and his ideas on the world he sees around him. And in 7 days I am going to introduce a big (well, hopefully not too big), squawking, incredibly needy wrench into our wheel. And while I know that we will work it all out and get ourselves settled and learn how to be 4 instead of 3, and as I try my hardest to soak up these last few days of "us", I can't help but feel a small sense of sadness and loss....but I suppose that is normal, right?

Right?

Of course, I type such sentimentality and just 2 hours ago I had a terrible row with Liam and made him cry and made me cry and just completely spoke too harshly to a little boy who was only acting like the overlytired 3-year old he was.....so much for soaking up these last days with him. It is times like those that I wonder how we will do when my exhaustion is deeper....my patience thinner. I think I worry most about losing sight of that charming and sweet and spirited little boy through a newborn fog. I don't want to miss a single of second of his wonder.

That's probably not too realistic is it? Especially considering I miss pieces of that wonder daily as I grunch around here cranky, awkward and uncomfortable on these baby elephant ankles (my god the swelling!!!). So, really no matter how you look at it, it's six of one, half dozen of the other..... and we'll be okay, right?

Right?

The very first thing on my dubious to-do list was to blog daily these last 2 weeks of my pregnancy. Ha. Most days I am too tired and then too emotional to really sit down and do it. I am calm...really I am...but I am welling up with so many other feelings that I often don't know where to start. Or stop. I want to write honestly about these remaining days but sometimes I feel silly for sharing (nay, having) such strong emotions about something as miraculous as a new baby. Sometimes I feel too weary to share those emotions. And sometimes.....well, some things are just too sacred.

I can't believe that I am going to have another little human being to fill my heart and my life when the little person hollering at me from the other room has done such a fine job of it already. It often feels like I am about to burst with the love and the joy and the naughtiness that he has brought with him into my world. But lives and hearts are meant to expand to overflowing.....that's how it works, right?

Right?

The Final Countdown: 14 Days

Originally written on April 28, 2008

Come hell or high water, I will have a baby 2 weeks from this very day. If I don't go into labor by May 12, they are going in after it. Hallelujah and Happy Mother's Day to me.

There is a period of time in a pregnancy...or maybe I should say in my pregnancies...when you stop looking just big and cumbersome and awkward and as if maybe utilizing the Lil Rascal scooter carts at the grocery store would really be in your best interest, and begin to look conspicuously and gloriously pregnant. Still awkward. Still cumberson. But the waddle has meaning now and that wonderful watermelon of a belly is just right out there announcing to all the world that yes indeed you are carrying life and not just suffering from too many midnight Twinkie raids.

For me, that stage hit right around 32 weeks and I loved it. My belly popped out and I was knocking things over right and left and poor Liam, at perfect belly height, was getting regularly prodded with my belly button or inadvertently bounced out of the way if he came up short in front of me. Sadly, this stage has been short lived.

Now I am just simply awkward and cumbersome again....my belly is still there, bigger than ever, but now just seems to taunt me into thinking that maybe *this* time I can get out of bed to pee without first rocking back and forth several times to gain momentum. Or that I can roll over in bed without getting stuck on my back like a flipped turtle struggling to right itself, only to find that once I have successfully made it over, all of that movement has made me have to pee again thus the rocking starts anew. Or that just this once I can get on the floor to help Liam with his shoes without first scouting out the surrounding area for something I can use to pull myself back up with.

Just last night, husband watched in amusement as I rolled myself off the sofa, onto all fours, crawled over to the arm of the sofa and hauled myself up to standing. Just to go pee for the one millionth time that hour.

All very dignified.

So. Fourteen days. 2 weeks. That's it. I suppose I should get crackin' on the to-do list that has grown exponentially along with this belly. I have told myself that I will be in good shape if I can just get one thing done each day between now and baby.

It is 3:53pm and all I have done today is look at my list and tell myself that I will be in good shape if I can just get one thing done each day between now and baby.

It's a start.

A crack by any other name...

Originally written on April 4, 2008

Last night Liam was explaining to me that the t-shirt I was wearing was not actually a shirt but my pj's because "mommy your clothes are your shirt and they are in the dresser..you are wearing pj's, not clothes". Ok. whatever....and he is half right because that particular article of clothing does do double and triple duty these days since my gigantic belly is growing out of everything.

Anyway, as we were discussing my outfit, he kept leaning into the v-neck of my shirt to gaze into my (also) growing cleavage. "Mommy....what is that crack for?". "That's not a crack, buddy, it's just my boobs. "No Mommy, that's your crack....it's your BOOBY crack".

Of course.

Three

Originally written on January 31, 2008

Well, big boy, in less than an hour, you will officially turn three. THREE!! This morning you woke up at 5:30 (!) calling “Mommy it’s my birfday….Mommy I FREEEEEE!!” Time sure has flown.

As I was getting ready to write this to you, I took a look back at what I wrote on your very first birthday and quickly realized that I could just copy most of it right into this letter. All the love, all the joy, all the frustration….multiplied by 730 days. This year, like the two preceding it, has been wonderous and challenging, fun and exhausting…maybe even more so…and although I may have thought differently at the time, there isn’t one second of it I would change.

There is so much of these past three years I wish you would be able to someday remember (and some I’m glad you won’t ). But for you, these are the days of living in the moment. Full of discovery and fun and wonder and mischief. Oh, the mischief. The memories…those are all mine. And I will forever keep them locked in my heart, gladly sharing them as you grow and want discover who you were and where you came from. And, of course, to embarass you completely when you become a teenager.

This year has been pretty big for you. For all of us. Here are a few highlights:

You finally started talking. And talking. And talking. And talking. You really never stop. It is so much fun to hear your thoughts and the wonderful things you come up with and the very funny things you say. Your daddy and I laugh at how worried we were that you didn’t say more than 10 words when you turned 2. Silly us.

You moved out of the house you were born in and into the house you will grow up in. Well, we all moved, not just you. The new house has a big backyard and a fort and a sandbox and a ceiling fan. And you love it. Although truth be told, you would have been happy with just the ceiling fan.

You started preschool. It was a little scary and a little sad but you did so great and you were so brave. Now, you are crazy about school. As soon as we get there you RUN down the stairs, around the corner and down the hall and burst into the room all smiles and hello’s. You love Teacher Trudi.

You learned how to pedal your tricycle all by yourself and you’re getting pretty fast. You are still working on looking in front of you as you ride instead of back at Mommy. You’ve crashed into the neighbor’s rose bushes a few times and that wasn’t very fun. Don’t worry. You’ll get it.

You started sleeping in a real big boy bed. You weren’t too sure about making the move from your crib at first, but you helped Daddy and Grandpa Bryan put it together and once it was in your room you climbed right in and haven’t looked back.

You are really growing into yourself and your big personality. It has been fun watching the little person you are becoming, the things you love, the things you hate, the things you choose to spend your time doing. Here are a few examples of who you are right now:

Your favorite movie at the moment is “The Aristocats” and you often entertain me with snippets of dialogue from the show, although you don’t ever reference it so it usually takes me a moment or two to figure out what exactly you are talking about. You also love the songs. I can’t tell you how much I love it when you break into a rousing rendition of “Abraham DeLacey, Giuseppe Casey, Thomas O’Malley….O’Malley the alley cat”. Or “Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat”. It is a delight.

Speaking of singing, you do it all day long. If you aren’t talking, you’re singing. And child, can you ever carry a tune! I am never in doubt as to which song you are singing even though you rarely ever sing the actual words to the song, preferring instead to make up your own to go along with whatever you are doing at the time. You cover everything from “Frosty the Snowman” to “Wheels on the Bus” to “Stray Cat Strut” to “Bad to the Bone”. All it takes is once for your ear to remember a tune. Wow.

You have a near obsession with tools and lawn equipment. You can’t get enough of saws and leaf blowers, drills and weed eaters. You love them to the point of distraction. You love to talk about them, you love to watch them in action, you love to look at pictures of them. I once kept you busy for almost an hour on a flight just buy showing you a Lowe’s ad from the Sunday paper. That is how much you love them. Lucky you, between Santa and your grandparents, you received a chainsaw, a leaf blower, a workbench and tool box full of tools for Christmas. I have never seen a happier little boy.

Just recently you have become quite insistent about helping me cook dinner. Mostly you just want to cut things up with a butter knife, which I usually let you do to keep you busy. But you also love to stir and dump and mix with the hand mixer. We are working on only helping in the kitchen when Mommy is also there after a recent incident involving butter, honey, carrots, a spoon and the toaster, but I love that you want to help and now my job will be to work on my patience so that you can help without driving me completely insane.

You have a very mechanical mind and are happiest when you are cutting with scissors, taking things apart and exploring how things work. I hear “what that do?” about a gazillion times a day. I love your fascination and your focused interest, although you do make the most hideous messes while “exploring” and usually can’t be bothered with such menial tasks as cleaning up.

Pickle, I really could go on and on and on about who you are right now. These little things just touch the surface. This has been such an amazing year and everyday with you is interesting. Not always easy, but definitely interesting. Lately we have been drifting into a developmental no man’s land where we are almost constantly butting heads. Your strong will and tenacity know no bounds and we are slowly trying to navigate the waters of your newfound sense of self and autonomy…..allowing you to feel your space while trying to remind you of your place in our family. It is hard. I know it’s hard for you too. I am constantly hearing “Mommy I need you” only to be told screamed at to “Go away” when I try to help. It is frustrating for both of us. And when you say to me “bad mommy…I don’t like you”, I know you barely know what you are saying let alone the emotional impact of such words. And I know you don’t mean it. As strange as it sounds, it makes me realize that I have done something right in raising you if you feel secure enough in my love for you that you feel free to speak your mind. We’ll continue to work on the appropriateness of saying unkind words as we continue on our journey, but everyone who has a mom knows that you always treat worst the person you trust the most. You are no different. We’ll figure it out.

This next year will bring with it lots of changes. In a few short months you will become a Big Brother. I know you are not too crazy about that right now and I know that it is going to be hard for you but you are going to do a great job and no matter what, always remember that we are in this together. When you were much younger and having a hard time with separation, even if I just walked into another room, I would say to you “Liam, it’s you and me. We go together. We’re peas and carrots”. And that sort of became our secret code when you would get a little upset. I would just whisper “peas and carrots” and you would know I wasn’t going anywhere. It has been a long time since we last used our secret code, but the other night at dinner I dared to serve you vegetables, peas and carrots as it so happened to be, and while you didn’t eat them, you did point to them and say “that’s mommy and Liam”. I could have melted right there on the spot, because after all this time you remembered what it was all about. So, as I close this letter to you on the cusp of your 4^th year, I want you to know that no matter what changes happen in our family, no matter how happy or sad or jealous or angry you may feel as the years roll along, you will always be my heart and soul. It’s you and me. We’re peas and carrots.

Happy “Free”, sweet boy.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Hello Baby

Originally written on January 13, 2008

Hmmmm......hot dog or bun??

Pride

Originally written on November 28, 2007

Liam finally mastered the art of pedaling this weekend. Have you ever seen a little boy look more proud?

Hide & Seek

Originally written on October 29, 2007


It took me awhile, but I found him.......

Danka Schoen

Originally written on September 17, 2007

Thank you all for coming and welcome to my Big Fat Positive Pregnancy Test Party. Before we start the festivities , I would like give a few shout outs and say a few thank you’s to some of the key players in tonight’s big event.

First of all, thank you to my ovaries for loosening your death grip on my eggs last month and allowing one (or possibly two) of them the taste of victory and sweet freedom. I understand how entertaining it must be to keep them on hand and see the interesting shapes they mutate into as they age. This must have been a huge sacrifice and I do appreciate it.

Next, I would like to give a big shout out to Husband’s sperm. Way to go fellas. I do realize that you have always been on your game, even when those bitch eggs were playing coy, so I appreciate the way you saw this through to the end. Lesser sperm would have thrown up their tails and walked away from this often one-sided grudge match, but not you. You boys are scrappers. Nice work.

And finally, a huge thank you to the Universe for making sure that Husband’s time off and my prime baby making days occurred simultaneously. It was totally unplanned but I tell you, no stress, no fatigue and LOTS of spare time…..I don’t think a better conception cocktail exists.

And thus concludes the floor show. There is an open bar at the back so knock yourselves out. I , of course, will be abstaining, although I can honestly say I have never wanted a beer more.

Cheers and thanks.

by way of introduction.....

I don't do scrapbooks, actually, I twitch and shake at the mere thought of all that cutting and gluing. Unfortunately, I also don't do baby books (although I should, I really should. And I will. Maybe.). What I do, is write. Everywhere, on anything, and all the time. Oh, and I take pictures. So this is my compromise....a blog. I have been writing and publishing the antics of my offspring and my ruminations about motherhood in the blogosphere since my oldest little bird was 3 months old. That was 3 years, 3 months and ummmm, 23 days ago. It is my record of when he rolled over, when he walked and when he finally started talking - oh how I rue that day. Basically, if the Internet ever ceases to exist, I am so screwed.

That first blog, home to all of those tales of woe and wonder, is still out there and my own sweet little nugget of life as a first time mom. I won't link to it....it's all mine. However, I may re-post some of those old stories here from time to time as I reminisce about those early sink or swim days.

This blog is my record of moving forward, of closing my eyes, holding my nose and jumping back into the waters of motherhood. I meant to start it when I first found out I was pregnant with our second, but, uh, clearly time got away from me. So please, allow me to set up the present by taking a few trips back to the past with some old pieces I wrote while pregnant...........

thanks.