Who knew lightening could strike twice?
Two beautiful girls. We are so blessed.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
First thing in the morning
People warned me. Jealousy, they said. She's not the star of the show anymore. She'll regress. She'll struggle.
Thankfully, they haven't been proven right (yet). Rowan is so in love with her sister, she often forgets everyone else. First thing in the morning, she wants to greet her, kiss her, hug her, and hold her. Twice she has requested that her dad take her bed and she sleeps in with me and her sister in the pack and play bassinet at the side of the bed. Her eyes open, and she turns to greet "her baby" before even saying a word to me. When Anya cries (which is blissfully rare), Rowan tries everything her little almost-3-year-old mind can think of to soothe her and then runs to me in desperation, "I don't know how to get her to stop, Mama! She's crying!!!"
And I've finally found a way to get her to pose for pictures willingly, and with truly genuine smiles. Well, some of the time anyway. (More to come from the real camera soon.)
Friday, May 14, 2010
Anya Genevieve
Birthday May 13, 2010, 2:08 AM.
7 lbs. 14 oz., 20.5 inches long.
A beautiful gift from God.
Perfect, beautiful, calm and sweet. Her big sister adores her! Her dad is already suffering from the sleep deprivation. (Wimp. Ha.) He's going to get her sis and dog today, and take them home for one night while I stay in the hospital with the baby. Before she was born, he was incensed by the idea that they might kick him out of our room at night. (Officially, dads are supposed to leave at 9, but it's not enforced.) Today, his tune has changed and he wants to sleep in his own bed.
She and I will come home tomorrow. Until then, I'm taking advantage of having a full staff, personal chef, and free Wifi. And complete control of the thermostat. (Plastic beds are hot.)
Welcome to the world, Baby Girl. We are so thrilled you've joined us. Thank God that you are healthy and perfect--we are so very blessed.
Monday, May 10, 2010
"Mom, I'm sorry you're so mad."
Everyone says I'm close to delivering. I hope so. I have been desperately trying to get things finished. Of course, not everything is, but it's probably good enough. My husband is irritated with me because I'm irritated with him (because he's not doing the things I NEED him to do, obviously.) My daughter has been loud and talkative and energetic and kind of driving me nuts, but she has also figured it out, so spends a lot of time apologizing for making me mad. I'm really trying not to be mad and to enjoy my last days of having only one kid, but it's hard. I am trying to hug her a lot and tell her I'm sorry I'm cranky. We sing songs. Tonight, she told me, "I love you, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck and a barrel and a PEEP."
Confession: I think I have PTSD for colic. Is that possible? (Please God. This one? No colic, OK?) My hunch is there won't be colic. But I've been wrong before. And I'm scared of the colic. It was so bad, really. Colic sucks.
Another confession: I spent about an hour alone in bed Saturday night crying because I miss my mom. It's been twelve years now. I wish she was here. I know she's watching, and she's proud of me, but I wish I could talk to her. She totally would have helped with the slipcover. And my freezer would be full of homemade food, not Wegman's premade (which is good, but still.)
It was Mother's Day on Sunday. Rowan kept saying, "Happy Murz Day!" We went out to brunch, and our server forgot to put in our food order and she cried. We got our brunch for free. It was really good, even though we didn't eat until 3. I ordered dessert. For supper, I had more ice cream.
Today I burned through the house putting crap away and being mad at everyone who left their crap out and cleaning and finishing slip-covering the chair and changing my pants three times because they were all falling down. Apparently, my hips are spreading even more. Even my undies are too tight. This sucks. I had to do laundry because I only have a couple of things that are comfortable to wear right now.
I got the bathroom upstairs reloaded after Dr. B painted it yesterday, and cleaned it, and got all the painting stuff put away again. If I'm not in labor, tomorrow I'll clean the downstairs one. Vacuuming is done, chest and bassinet are moved, Rowan's room is fairly clean, clothes are put away, one more load of laundry is done (not folded, though). Dishes are done, kitchen is fairly neat, chair is finished, sewing crap is put away. Extra junk is up in the attic. Patio is swept (50 mph winds left piles of leaves and sticks everywhere. It really was necessary, I swear.)
Blogging, check. Boring, rambling, yes. Sorry about that. This is how my brain works right now.
Tonight, Dr. B ordered me to call his mom. I did. I complained about some of the stuff he's been telling me lately and she laughed at him and made me feel better. I love having her for an ally.
Here's an example, 20 hours after his last final exam was graded and grades were turned in, he complained of "that anxious feeling when I don't have a project!" So I bought paint and told him to paint the bathroom, which I've been asking for going on 3 years now. His response? "I don't like doing other people's projects!"
Huh. I don't much like being pregnant. You do it.
Or your laundry. Or cleaning your toilets. Or picking up your shoes every stinking day.
His mom laughed and laughed. And swore she taught him better, but she was pretty sure it's a B man thing, because his dad does the same thing.
So during our phone conversation (probably when he realized she was totally backing me up), he took the dog for a really long walk. I got the house half vacuumed before he got home. Then he went upstairs and put the stuff in the attic that I had asked him to do 2 weeks ago. He noticed I'd moved the heavy cedar chest, and he said, "Bootsie's coming soon. You've got a lot more strength tonight than you have had in a long time."
Not necessarily. I think I just have a lot less patience.
We'll see... the next time you hear from me, it might just be good news. Here's hoping.
Confession: I think I have PTSD for colic. Is that possible? (Please God. This one? No colic, OK?) My hunch is there won't be colic. But I've been wrong before. And I'm scared of the colic. It was so bad, really. Colic sucks.
Another confession: I spent about an hour alone in bed Saturday night crying because I miss my mom. It's been twelve years now. I wish she was here. I know she's watching, and she's proud of me, but I wish I could talk to her. She totally would have helped with the slipcover. And my freezer would be full of homemade food, not Wegman's premade (which is good, but still.)
It was Mother's Day on Sunday. Rowan kept saying, "Happy Murz Day!" We went out to brunch, and our server forgot to put in our food order and she cried. We got our brunch for free. It was really good, even though we didn't eat until 3. I ordered dessert. For supper, I had more ice cream.
Today I burned through the house putting crap away and being mad at everyone who left their crap out and cleaning and finishing slip-covering the chair and changing my pants three times because they were all falling down. Apparently, my hips are spreading even more. Even my undies are too tight. This sucks. I had to do laundry because I only have a couple of things that are comfortable to wear right now.
I got the bathroom upstairs reloaded after Dr. B painted it yesterday, and cleaned it, and got all the painting stuff put away again. If I'm not in labor, tomorrow I'll clean the downstairs one. Vacuuming is done, chest and bassinet are moved, Rowan's room is fairly clean, clothes are put away, one more load of laundry is done (not folded, though). Dishes are done, kitchen is fairly neat, chair is finished, sewing crap is put away. Extra junk is up in the attic. Patio is swept (50 mph winds left piles of leaves and sticks everywhere. It really was necessary, I swear.)
Blogging, check. Boring, rambling, yes. Sorry about that. This is how my brain works right now.
Tonight, Dr. B ordered me to call his mom. I did. I complained about some of the stuff he's been telling me lately and she laughed at him and made me feel better. I love having her for an ally.
Here's an example, 20 hours after his last final exam was graded and grades were turned in, he complained of "that anxious feeling when I don't have a project!" So I bought paint and told him to paint the bathroom, which I've been asking for going on 3 years now. His response? "I don't like doing other people's projects!"
Huh. I don't much like being pregnant. You do it.
Or your laundry. Or cleaning your toilets. Or picking up your shoes every stinking day.
His mom laughed and laughed. And swore she taught him better, but she was pretty sure it's a B man thing, because his dad does the same thing.
So during our phone conversation (probably when he realized she was totally backing me up), he took the dog for a really long walk. I got the house half vacuumed before he got home. Then he went upstairs and put the stuff in the attic that I had asked him to do 2 weeks ago. He noticed I'd moved the heavy cedar chest, and he said, "Bootsie's coming soon. You've got a lot more strength tonight than you have had in a long time."
Not necessarily. I think I just have a lot less patience.
We'll see... the next time you hear from me, it might just be good news. Here's hoping.
Saturday, May 01, 2010
Nestorama!!! Now! With Upholstering!!!
Two weeks to go. I must be nesting. I'm getting stuff done right and left, but still feel like I'm spinning my wheels. My list is shorter, but the things that are taken care of are kind of minor. (That's OK. I like crossing them off, so I'll take it.) I have new contacts (that aren't dry! It's wonderful!) I have a dentist appointment next week, with Rowan (her first.) She did great at the eye doc, though she wasn't examined, but it kind of gave her a taste of what will happen. Hopefully it will all go well at the dentist.
I called the doc about her, um, blockage issues and got her started on Miralax. Glad she can't read or she'd be mortified that I am telling the internet even more about her poop. Things are much easier now, though the potty training is completely gone. Oh well. I give up. Now is apparently not the time, and she is not ready to be done. So fine. She's not. Sigh.
I have packed her bag and started mine (though there are so few things that fit me right now, I think I'll have to wait with a list on top until the moment labor starts to finish.) Laundry is fairly caught up. Little cleaning projects have been happening. Yard sale stuff is gone to the church. Baby stuff is down from the attic, the infant car seat is waiting in the hall, and we are just waiting on the pick up of our new dresser to finish putting all Rowan's and Bootsie's stuff in the right places. Just in case, I culled it down to a few weeks worth and gave them each 3 drawers of Rowan's dresser for now, and left the big plastic boxes stacked in her room. Dr. B hung the colorful lanterns high over the crib (Rowan destroyed her mobile), and the crib skirt is ironed and in place. (My mother would be proud. I never iron anything anymore.) Sheets are waiting--I don't want them to get dusty. Batteries have been bought, though need to be inserted in all the various battery-needing things. I have confirmed Rowan's and Lucy's caretakers, and Rowan got a new sleeping bag for her first big sleepover. She's very excited.
Dr. B's HoneyDo list is still there, but all I can do is bug him about it. Since school is wrapping up, hopefully he'll get on the stick ASAP. He promised to shampoo the carpets this weekend, pick up the dresser (I may put it together, I haven't asked him yet.) He also promised to shave the dog, which I hate doing, but I did buy a new trimmer kit, so hoping it works. If he doesn't do it soon, I'll take her in to the vet and have it done. I still want him to paint our bathroom, but would be surprised if it got done in time. He still has finals and grades to deal with. I begged off the boring banquet last night--don't know if this was the best idea as Rowan's lack of a nap also seemed to have affected her lack of being nice. Long night. But whatever, I didn't have to get dressed up, eat banquet food and clap for 274 individual student awards. (Not exaggerating. Worst Banquet Ever.)
I am in the midst of upholstering a chair (at the moment actually--I'm taking an ice cream sandwich/blogging break), and when that's done I will start the marathon shopping, cooking and freezing session. I need to sew tabs on my BumGenius diapers, but have enough econobums and g diapers that it can wait if need be. We have plenty of baby clothes, blankets, hats, and diapers, including disposable backups as well as cloth. I have a few things to order of the internet, but nothing that we won't survive without (most is not baby-related anyway.)
So we're kind of ready. But not really.
Anybody want to come over to dust and do windows???
*crickets*
I called the doc about her, um, blockage issues and got her started on Miralax. Glad she can't read or she'd be mortified that I am telling the internet even more about her poop. Things are much easier now, though the potty training is completely gone. Oh well. I give up. Now is apparently not the time, and she is not ready to be done. So fine. She's not. Sigh.
I have packed her bag and started mine (though there are so few things that fit me right now, I think I'll have to wait with a list on top until the moment labor starts to finish.) Laundry is fairly caught up. Little cleaning projects have been happening. Yard sale stuff is gone to the church. Baby stuff is down from the attic, the infant car seat is waiting in the hall, and we are just waiting on the pick up of our new dresser to finish putting all Rowan's and Bootsie's stuff in the right places. Just in case, I culled it down to a few weeks worth and gave them each 3 drawers of Rowan's dresser for now, and left the big plastic boxes stacked in her room. Dr. B hung the colorful lanterns high over the crib (Rowan destroyed her mobile), and the crib skirt is ironed and in place. (My mother would be proud. I never iron anything anymore.) Sheets are waiting--I don't want them to get dusty. Batteries have been bought, though need to be inserted in all the various battery-needing things. I have confirmed Rowan's and Lucy's caretakers, and Rowan got a new sleeping bag for her first big sleepover. She's very excited.
Dr. B's HoneyDo list is still there, but all I can do is bug him about it. Since school is wrapping up, hopefully he'll get on the stick ASAP. He promised to shampoo the carpets this weekend, pick up the dresser (I may put it together, I haven't asked him yet.) He also promised to shave the dog, which I hate doing, but I did buy a new trimmer kit, so hoping it works. If he doesn't do it soon, I'll take her in to the vet and have it done. I still want him to paint our bathroom, but would be surprised if it got done in time. He still has finals and grades to deal with. I begged off the boring banquet last night--don't know if this was the best idea as Rowan's lack of a nap also seemed to have affected her lack of being nice. Long night. But whatever, I didn't have to get dressed up, eat banquet food and clap for 274 individual student awards. (Not exaggerating. Worst Banquet Ever.)
I am in the midst of upholstering a chair (at the moment actually--I'm taking an ice cream sandwich/blogging break), and when that's done I will start the marathon shopping, cooking and freezing session. I need to sew tabs on my BumGenius diapers, but have enough econobums and g diapers that it can wait if need be. We have plenty of baby clothes, blankets, hats, and diapers, including disposable backups as well as cloth. I have a few things to order of the internet, but nothing that we won't survive without (most is not baby-related anyway.)
So we're kind of ready. But not really.
Anybody want to come over to dust and do windows???
*crickets*
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