Well, I have felt this one coming for a while and I’ve put it off for as long as I could.  But I just can’t put it off anymore.  Especially since I know just how much you guys have needed this.  So I’m doing it for you just as much as I’m doing it for myself…and prosperity.

I’m doing a bullet pointed post, again.

• First of all, I have to say that I’m still here!  I’m reading your posts (mostly likely at 3am) but commenting is difficult.  I rarely get my laptop booted up and commenting from my phone is tough.  If you’re WordPress, I have to do this whole “sign in and remember my password” song and dance.  If you’re blogger, I have to do the “Captcha, you’re the blurry devil” bullshit.  Either way, leaving a comment takes for ever, usually requires two or three attempts and instead I just send out love to the universe and realize I’m a shitty commenter…for now.
• Which leads me to the next topic (holy shit, my bullet points may actually have some sort of reasonable flow…but I’m not making promises) …  (should this be its own bullet?)  …  Anyways!  I’m going back to work one week from today.  Seven days.  And (feel free to tar and feather me for being such a terrible human being) I’m ready.  I’ve been home with Bridget for 12 weeks and I’ve had both kids home 5 days a week for 7 weeks.  I’m tired.  Anyone who thinks that being a stay at home mom is easier than being a working mom is either a) lying b) masochistic (or is it sadistic? which one is the one where you like to inflict pain on yourself?) or c) really really good at being a mom.  I’m realizing that this bullet point should be its own post.  I’ll just make a new bullet point.
• I had an epiphany recently and it made me want to do a kumbaya (sp?) koom-bye-ya, you know what I mean, circle of moms.  I want to grab all the working moms and SAHMs and say this: Being a mom is the hardest job in the whole wide world, regardless of whether you work or stay home.  The stay at home moms struggle with the lack of social interaction, the difficulty of being with KIDS all day, needing help, cleaning the house, getting it ALL done.  The working moms fight a mental battle of the constant onslaught of guilt.  “If I get my hair cut after work, I won’t be able to get the kids from daycare until 2 hours later and then I’m a bad mom”  “When I go on this business trip, I will be away from my kids for three straight days, badder mom.” You name it, we feel a constant and unavoidable guilt.  It’s just which form of mom-torture do you feel you are better equipped to handle?  So let’s all just get along.
• You know where this is going?  I go back to work on Tuesday and need to go on a business trip Wednesday and Thursday to Dallas.  Talk about being back in the fire fast, yo.  I’m not sure how in the hell The Boy is going to do this you guys.  B is still waking up three times a night to eat plus he needs to get both ready to go to daycare, drop them off and pick them up and somehow manage it all and get to work on time.  And of course, MOM GUILT, I’m flying out before I can drop off my baby for her second ever day of daycare.  I’m trying to stuff down the guilt but it’s there, and it tastes terrible.
• We are still a’strugglin’ with a really tough baby.  Last night my mom had to come over and help because B was more upset than I’d ever seen her.  She was just so damn uncomfortable and pissed and wide fucking awake.  It was terrible.  So I’m trying something out.  I’m taking a break from breast-feeding for 3-4 days.  I’ll be pumping and freezing so my supply will hopefully not suffer but I’m putting her on a sensitive formula to see if it helps with her gassiness, fussiness, sleeplessness and persistent thrush.  (Yeah, we’ve had thrush for about 10 weeks, its super fun – PROPS itchy nipples!)  And enter…MORE MOM GUILT.  Formula is the devil, blah blah blah.  Not my opinion, that was sarcasm, I think formula is great, but I just need her to FEEL better and I can’t figure out how to anymore.
• She’s crying again…part of me is celebrating the 20 minute nap we got but its a very very small part of me.  Sigh.  Hold please.
• I’m in desperate need of a manicure, pedicure, hair cut, spray tan and the application of make up that includes more than under eye concealer.  But even if I somehow manage to obtain these beauty enhancing treats, I’m fairly certain I’m still going to feel like a pile of shit.  I can’t shake it, maybe its some combination of the constant ponytail, spit up on my shoulder, stains on my clothes, I just feel so damn unattractive these days.  I don’t like the person I see in the mirror, she’s fucking old and tired.

Holy shit, when I just re-read this sucker I couldn’t help but think “Wah, wah, wah, poor me”.  This wasn’t meant to be such a downer post.  I’m fine!  No really!  I’m aok (which is oddly spell-checked into Oak, discuss), no need to send in the Prozac!

Heading out-of-town until I go back to work…catch you all on the flip side.

Dear Natalie,

First of all, obviously, you’re welcome.  I can only imagine that your weekend here in our home far exceeded your expectations of just how AMAZING and FUN-FILLED one weekend could be.

I am sure that the very first evening was thrilling for you, sitting on my plush green couch and drinking high dollar cocktails such as “beer”.  But really that first evening wasn’t even close to the excitement and fun that you would experience only the very next day.

We have lots of free time around our house between wake-ups, naps, meals, snacks, breast-feeding and diaper changes so I felt as though rather than take advantage of those huge gaps of free time it would be much more fun for all of us to watch The Boy mow the lawn and chase our children around my spectacular front yard.

And of course, for our singular excursion of your 72 hour visit, I wanted to take you to the fanciest place Minnesota had to offer, full of our cities finest citizens and some of the best views we have.  So why wouldn’t we go to the most crowded place we could find, a free zoo on a beautiful Saturday and spend the entire time two-on-one wrestling my herculean son while your sweet child simply watched on in awe – and behaved.  Again, you’re so very welcome.

And no visit to Minneapolis would be complete without a stop at our local “grocery store”.  I’m pretty sure these establishments are unique to our neck of the woods.  I can only imagine how amazed you were by the fruits, vegetables, dairy products and paper products that were all carefully stacked just waiting for us to PURCHASE them.  Revolutionary really, and I’m sure, a highlight to your trip.

Wait, no, I’m getting ahead of myself.  Truly the highlight must have been all of the attempts to quiet my screaming infant, am I right?  I must be.  I can imagine nothing you’d rather have been doing here in the land of 10,000 lakes than hanging out in my home with my squalling infant.  She’s currently screaming, just thinking of all the fun you had together.

So in closing, I am sure we can both agree that you experienced only the best that this city, this state, this GIRL and her family had to offer and I can only imagine that you’re already anxiously awaiting your next trip to visit.  Here’s to next time!

Drinking at noon on a Sunday. Cuz that’s how we roll up in here.

Once upon a time, I was a lonely blogger in a lonely bloggy world.  I was meandering my way around the cybersphere and somehow stumbled upon a blog written by a woman that I knew I loved immediately.  She was unfiltered, hilarious, crass and said the shit that I was hoping to hear. How hard some things are (marriage), how wonderful some things are (vodka) and everything in between.  And so I began my online love affair with Miss Bum Ute.

I would look forward to her posts and devour them and giggle.  She kept me laughing and we traveled a similar timeline in our infertility journeys so I felt as though we were two little cyber birds in the cyber trenches together.

In short, I was smitten.

And then I met her in real life and she was totally different than I thought she’d be…and I loved her even more.  She’s as funny as you’d imagine but she’s actually kind of sweet too…and she’s hawt.  In short, she’s basically the perfect woman.

And soon, she will be welcoming the perfect daughter.  After having two sons, we were all hoping and praying that this woman with the most amazing hair ever bestowed upon a human being would pass along her genes to a girl.  And she is!  And she will be here soon.  And I noticed when I welcomed Miss B that baby blankets while abundant gifts the first time around, are not so abundant the second or third.  So I needed to go out and find the girliest blanket set I could.  And I can’t wait for it to show up on her doorstep!
(Seriously, etsy is the best…I may have an addiction…)

BU, I love ya girl, and I can’t wait for your daughter to arrive!!!!

Those were the words of my very trusted midwife last night over a bottle of wine and some pizza.

We got together to enjoy each other’s company outside of the clinic because we’d always had fun together and because we both had a desire to keep the other in our life after the arrival of Bridget.  It was a glorious evening, one in which I didn’t want to spend much time talking about the “what ifs” of Bridget’s delivery but rather get to know this lady who I had come to admire and respect on a personal level.

It was a great night.  We laughed and we ate and we drank and we talked and talked and talked.  And a bit about my delivery came up despite the plethora of other topics we easily could have been discussing.

Her response to my question “Do you think my body ever would have gone into labor naturally?”  was that it likely would have at some point but “It would have been a shit show.  Complete with fetal distress and hemorrhaging.  Worst case fetal or maternal demise.”  She completely confirmed my belief that had I stuck it out and pushed for the natural birth center birth I wanted I would have put both B and I at risk.

Her confirmation of this wasn’t necessary but it was reassuring.  I’ve been surprised by my utter lack of disappointment in ending up with a c-section.  Going into her delivery, all I wanted was to prevent that outcome, when it happened I was so at peace with it I have surprised even myself.

After Mac’s delivery I struggled with what had happened to me and how I had been let down by my provider in such a grandiose fashion. This time, the outcome exactly opposite of what I wanted, my do-over birth was a complete bomb in terms of what I had hoped for and yet in my opinion, it was a complete success.

I was able to use my deep understanding of the birthing process, our medical system and the effects of various drugs on women and babies and make educated decisions that were the best for me AND for Bridget.  I didn’t get to practice my breathing but I got to use my brain to understand what the problems were and how we were combatting them.  In the end, both Bridget and I benefitted from the medical system that has been so vilified in the past – even by myself.

If I had been in a different country or a different time, our lives would be drastically different.  But because I live in the US and have extensive medical care available to me, we are both healthy and HERE.

And so, it was with a happy heart that I spent an evening with my hippie, natural-birth loving midwife and we both offered up thanks for the fact that we listened to our instincts and went with the least natural delivery I can imagine.

Hey Chloe Babe, what’s up?  It’s me, Mac.  So, I’ve been checking our your pics on the internet for the past year or so and just have to say…Hubba hubba.  You’re one fine looking specimen of baby girl.  And well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m not only sporting some serious cheeks but I’ve got some gorgeous, luscious locks on me that pretty much every lady I’ve come across can’t help but run her fingers through.  I’m just saying…  Did you see that photo of me and Stella?  Girl was SMITTEN.

So my mom told me it was your birthday and I spent all day trying to figure out what I could give you to show you just what a lovely girl I think you are and how much I admire your…physique.  And then it came to me and I was all, “What took me so long?!”  I immediately took off my clothes, even my ever-present diaper, and mounted my trusty steed and rode him bare back around the house in YOUR honor, Chloe.  I did this all for you, pretty girl.

Queue the ladies fainting from desire:

Grr Baby. Grrr

So there you go Chloe.  A big hunka burning Mac love for you on your big numero uno.

Yours, Mac

************************************************************************************

Chloe!!!

OH MY GAWD!  I’m like so totally embarrassed of my brother.  I mean, EW, right?  Who wants to see him all naked on a horse!  I’m soooo sorry…

He does this stuff all the time and I try to tell him that no one wants a big piece of Mac but like all boys, he’s gross and totally ignores me even though I’m right.  SO. Annoying.

Hang on, I’m not sure why but I’m going to cry at the top of my lungs for a few minutes.

Phew, okay I’m back,  Man, that’s fun.

I am so super duper excited for it to be your first birthday!  Do you, like, feel SO old now?  I can’t believe you’re already one.  I’m so jealous…You’re almost 13 months which is even cooler.  Man!

Well anyways, my mom said I needed to wish you a happy birthday too so here you go:

That paper was close to Mac when he was NAKED! I’m not touching it!!

Please note: the fact that a new blog post is up means something in my life is being neglected.  It is currently the five loads of laundry that are taunting me as well as lunch.  These are the things that I deem to be less important than touching base with you.  I love you, can you tell?

So.  B is 6 weeks and I currently can tell you that this whole 16 month old AND infant is not for the weak.

(Fuck.  B just started crying.  I wonder how many times this will happen.  It is 11:30 on Wednesday, July 25th.  If this doesn’t post til August I won’t be surprised.)

(I feel like I could have whispered that into a handheld recorder or something.  “Wednesday, July 25th.  1130 – Baby crying…again. Over)

(What?  I KNOW I’m still here…I have two babies – I don’t jump at her first little whimper, I wait and pray to the Baby Gods (they DO exist but they tend to ignore me – maybe its due to my hoarding tendencies) that she’s just changing REM cycles and will go back down.)

(FYI, this rarely happens with B.)

….

11:40am – Miracle! I rocked her for a bit and she’s sleeping again.  She needs it but that doesn’t mean she will succumb to it.

So!

First let me state that if you are a SAHM, you’re a miraculous individual with far more inner fortitude than I possess.  Second, if you’re a SAHM with more than one kid and your home is actually semi picked up and you appear to be showered, you can go eat a dick.  I have no idea how you do it.  Baby Ambien maybe?

I have it EASY, guys and it’s still hard.  The Boy is home more than most dad’s – he leaves around 8am and makes it home between 4 and 5pm most days.  PLUS, Mac’s in daycare 2 days a week.  PLUS, The Boy has “summer hours” (for you non-northern dwellers, he gets Fridays off in the summertime).  I have ALL that and this shit is still hard.

Basically, you have to tend to a toddler who most likely could give two shits about TV.

(She’s crying again, dammit.)

Plus you have a baby.  Remember what those are like?  No?  Let me fill you in, they eat, shit and cry and I’ve now found, sleep only if you got the expensive model.  Some of them actually DON’T sleep.  And the eating, shitting and crying parts take up mindless amounts of time.

This poses some challenges.

Challenge 1: Feeding one baby while ensuring the other doesn’t create some sort of home-based natural disaster.

(Still crying…)

….

1:53pm.  I’m back.  I scrambled some eggs because my patience level was decreasing at the same levels my hunger was increasing.  I’m now fed and my child is sleeping yet again…for now.

So – Challenge 1: Feeding the baby.

I thought I was a genius yesterday by feeding Bridget while Mac was also having lunch – aka strapped into his high chair and prevented from wreaking havoc.  FAIL.  He shellacked himself in peach yogurt and required a bath BEFORE nap time as well as a full wardrobe change.  This actually increased the workload.

Then I figured that I could turn on the Baby channel on DirectTV but I was far more entertained by the Spanish show than Mac was.  I now know two things – hippopotamus in Spanish is “Ee-po-pa-toe-moose” and Mac doesn’t give a shit about baby shows in Spanish.  Another FAIL as he then started doing log rolls off the couch.

I haven’t exactly solved this issue yet but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be some form of cage in which I place Mac while he screams his little head off.  Can’t wait.

Challenge 2:  Getting both kids to sleep simultaneously – aka THE HOLY GRAIL

My first day with both Mac and B, I accomplished this feat.  Both kids took EPIC naps of 3 hours neither of which has ever given me a repeat performance.  So, for one day I felt like super mom.  And then…I got a big fat dose of reality which is the game of trying to get one kid down while the other one is still awake.  (Friends, this is impossible, don’t even bother trying)

The only solution to this is to hope and pray that one child will actually be quiet for the 5-10 minutes required for the other child to fall asleep.  This rarely happens in my world.

ENTER THE WHITE NOISE MACHINE.  God bless the white noise machine, I have one in each kid’s room and they are on “Ocean” going at full volume.  I’m not kidding.  My house is like one big beach house these days.

Challenge 3:  Leaving the house

Have you guys thought of this???  Haha.  It occurred to me the first time I wanted to go to the grocery store that two kids don’t fit in a cart if you want to actually, oh I don’t know, BUY something that will go in the cart.  And a 16 month old can in NO HUMANLY POSSIBLE way actually WALK in the store without some sort of sitcom worthy destruction of a canned food pyramid.

Yeah.

So.

ENTER THE BABY CARRIER  – I still don’t have one I love.  I’m taking suggestions.  We’re working with the Bjorn, The Moby and The Maya Sling.

The Bjorn will be good once she can face out, at this point it’s not so good as facing in is so NOT this kid’s gig.

The Moby is the winner so far but we have our issues.  First, it usually requires her to face in so unless she’s feeling like a nap, it’s a no-go.  But we’ve figured out how to face her out which is okay but makes me feel like I have a growth with a face on my chest.  Its odd.  And it takes a while to put on and off so with the epic heat we have around here I’m a sweaty beast with a wee sweaty beast on me once we’re all put together.

The Maya Sling – I haven’t gotten this one figured out yet.  Does anyone else have the Maya that can attest to it and drive me to keep on trying it out.  She just doesn’t seem to fit right into it.

Challenge 4:  Free Time

During the, oh, 15 minutes or so that I have free while both children are sleeping I need to do various things like…eat, bathe, pick up (note: this did not say CLEAN, picking up is all I can hope for).  The challenges abound during this time.

The first is motivating to NOT nap.  Its hard.  All I want to do is nap all the time.  But then I’d stink, my house would stink and it would be bad.

Showering is a luxury…and its one that I end up indulging in for far too long.  I’ve been spending 15-20 minutes in the shower if I can.  It’s impossible to shut off the water and actually dress.  It just seems like so much WORK.

But I do, and if I’m lucky, I get clothes on before someone cries.  If I get dressed then I attempt to put on some make up (by some I mean, under eye concealer).  If my hair gets dried, well, it’s a VERY good day.

Let’s just say you get to the point where you’re clean and fed, your kids are both sleeping and your home is actually picked up with the laundry done.  Hahahahahahah.  Sigh.  Just kidding.  That point in time doesn’t exist.  Moving on.

But let me just say this, while having two babies under 16 months has it challenges, so does having babies 2 or 3 years apart. I have friends who weave tales of the older kids hitting or kicking or being jealous or getting attitudes or throwing tantrums.  Those are all challenges that are equally as tough as the ones I currently face.  But they aren’t issues with a 16 month old.  He really doesn’t get that his “zone” has someone new in it.  There was very little adjustment and purposeful hitting or kicking doesn’t happen.  Accidental crushing maybe but not purposeful!

And I’m pretty sure that the upside of these two babies at once thing is the size to which my heart swells when Mac kisses Bridget or the laugher I have to stifle as he tries to “pump” or when he gets so excited about seeing his baby sister that he runs in circles and bangs his chest (his way of saying “mine” at this point).

The first 3 months will be insane, there’s just no way around it.  But pretty soon, B will get easier (god willing) and Mac will be into TV.  Until then I’ll have a bottle of vodka on hand, a husband who is on a very short leash, 911 on speed dial and lots of laundry left undone.

(She’s still sleeping, it’s a day of miracles today I guess…)

End: 2:34pm

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Kids, keeping’ it real here, so click away if you don’t have any desire to ready about my leaky tits.  No, really, click away.

K.  Just you and me now right?  Coo.

So, my boobs.  They leak.  Like ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME they leak.  I realize I’m LACTATING and all but I’m sorta sad that we haven’t evolved to the point where my boobs have a sphincter because this whole drip drop drip drop shit is not flying with me.

The first time I was all Milky McBooberson I NEVER leaked.  I would get engorged but even then, RARELY did a precious drop of milk escape its big booby house.  I had this big old box of Lanis.oh pads and never used any and was all “What are these for, y’all?”

This time, I’m nearly OUT of my boob pads AND I (gasp!) have been known to use them two days in a row.  Gross but I figure if I’m not showering then what’s the point.  I’ve been known to have the same philosophy about my underwear on occasion but sadly the pads can’t be turned inside out.

(Oh yeah, you just read that)

So anyways, last night I’m feeding the girl and I end up switching from big old lefty over to semi-large righty and forget to replace the pad in my bra.  It was like 3am so frankly, the fact I even remembered to put my boob back in my BRA is a miracle.  Anyways.  I’m feeding on the second side without the pad in the (one could assume now empty) first side and when I’m done I stand up and realize I’ve not only soaked my sleeping bra but also the poor girls swaddle.

And it was then that I realized that its not just every pregnancy that’s different, its every boob after every pregnancy.  I want my old boobs back.  They were much better at this whole thing.  Oh shit you guys, it just occurred to me that the same thing could happen to my bladder.

Huh.

Stay tuned for THAT post.

I’ve had two posts flitting around in my head that I’ve been meaning to get down and out and yet I find that the time needed to write them is not to be had.  I’d like to add some color to the reality of two kids under 15 months thing – I was amazed at how many of you commented on that piece of my last post.  I actually have to say that while its a struggle, it also has its own unique set of benefits.  Having two kids is hard no matter what their age difference so if I painted a picture that had you racing to the condom aisle at Walgreens (hahahahahahaha…ah birth control…haha yeah right) its really not that bad.

I also have SOOO many thoughts about my yin and yang birth experiences – I really need to get a coherent post put together before they become less potent.  I can say that I’m perfectly at ease with my c-section, the hows and the whys that surround it.  I have processed the entire experience, the little mysterious pieces of the puzzle that my body provided and I know, without a doubt, that having a c-section was the only route for us to take.

But today I just figured I’d put down a few of the things I’ve discovered about Miss B in the past three weeks.  Things that I know will fade quickly both from reality and from my memory.

She strikes me as a bit of an old soul, this one.  And other people have commented on it as well.  She is highly alert and observant for a three week old and she just seems to have something behind those eyes.  We’ve taken to calling her bright eyes because the term so aptly describes her.  Here is a little shot of her from a week or so back…

But she’s not always giving me a look that is so…complacent and agreeable.  We definitely have our battles, Miss B and I.  She’s very demanding and likes to be entertained.  This sounds unusual for a baby of this age but about a week ago, I started getting smiles out of her by zooming in really close to her face and making random noises at her.  I was amazed I was already getting non-gassy smiles but seeing as the majority of the time I was actually getting something more like this…

…it seemed only fair that I should also get some smiles.  And smiles I get.  She has the goofiest grin I’ve ever seen on a kid that literally transforms her entire look.  She goes from contemplative to ridiculous with a quick turn of the mouth.  I have to admit, I’m completely taken with this gummy silly grin she’s got going on and while I wouldn’t wish it on her when she’s older, I hope that she keeps this dopey grin for a while.  It just cracks me up and melts away all the growling she’d been doing beforehand.

Am I right??

Overall, she’s growing well (already almost 10lbs…) eating well, sleeping well and generally being the baby I thought she’d be.  MOSTLY.  I thought she’d be blond like her brother and me.  I thought she’d look like me…she doesn’t.  I certainly didn’t think she’d be savagely tan …  but she is.  She’s her own gal, Miss Bridget.  And we’re having a ton of fun getting to know her.

And not to leave the other little Acorn out of the mix…Sir Mac is adjusting incredibly well.  He loves his baby sister and even likes to “help” with her.  He brings us the paci when she cries, rocks her carseat as well.  Likes to touch her toes and feet and points to her and says “Baba” whenever someone new comes around.  Its so stinking cute, my heart nearly bursts with what a sweet boy he is.  He loves to give her things…like books and footballs and other things.  Here he is bringing Bridget his football when she was crying…I mean, it just kills me how cute he is (not that I’m biased or anything…)

We’re off to the cabin for the inaugural trip…wish us luck because god knows, we’ll need it.  We’re planning to stay up there Tuesday through Sunday but may end up home earlier than that if this epic heat is too much.  No AC to be had at the cabin because its a CABIN…not a house that people call a cabin.  🙂  So, I’m off for a while.  Happy 4th of July everyone!!!

FInding time to blog these days is virtually impossible.  If I don’t have a baby on my boob or in my arms, I have a toddler who’s hell bent on getting his hands on my laptop/phone/anything else I have that is distracting me from him.  

But this morning begins real life maternity leave and not “pretend maternity leave” when The Boy is home from work helping me out and generally being good company.  The Boy is back at work and its just me and Bridget here now which means that when things are quiet, they’re very very quiet and when they are not … well, they are NOT.  

I can’t believe its been two weeks since I was sitting in a hospital bed and pondering just how amazing an invention the catheter is.  I was deathly afraid of the catheter for some reason but after having one…they’re the bomb!  I had spent the past 8 months peeing so much I had a toilet seat firmly imprinted on my butt cheeks – and then voila!  I was suddenly laying in bed and had no need to pee and some lovely girls frequently ensuring that there were no “accidents”.  It was probably the only good part of the c-section experience, in my opinion.  Well that and the fact that Bridget didn’t have the significant cone head that Sir Mac did.  

Sorry, distracted…enough about catheters, huh?

Things are here are going pretty well.  As far as recovery goes I’m nearly back to normal with the exception of the fact that I’m pretty much a waste of space when it comes to caring for my 27 pound toddler.  The lifting restrictions are tough but other than that, pretty much 100% back to feeling like Oak.  My incision is already healed so well I’d be shocked if I have a scar at all and my body has bounced back to its normal shape far better than I had dared to hope.  I’m at my pre-pregnancy weight already (that is the Mac pre-pregnancy weight NOT my pumperexic post-Mac baby weight quite yet…although only 8 lbs away).  I know, Eat a Dick Oak, right?  I’m endlessly thankful that I’m not battling post baby weight…and realize I’m also endlessly lucky…I do not take this for granted friends.  

The new kid on the block is certainly demanding but luckily, so far (knock on wood!) not as bad as I had thought she might be.  She simply demands attention and entertainment while she’s awake – which is a TON.  No sleepy newborns around here.  It also seems we’ve got another grower on our hands.  At her one week appointment she was already 9oz over her birth weight.  My milk and her feeding are both serving us well and for that, again, I realize how lucky I am and am so thankful.  

The dynamic of having two kids is…well, I’m not gonna lie ladies (Sorry Kristy, Bridget and Bunny), its fucking crazy town around here sometimes.  Mac’s not old enough to understand how to be “jealous” but he is old enough to think he has a new toy so we’ve had to be incredibly diligent about keeping him away from her head and putting her swings and chairs a very safe distance away from him…and on the other side of the gate.  

Over the past week, he’s gotten a firm grip on her swing and gave it a solid shake, “patted” her soft-spot, put a finger in her eye, walked around the kitchen with a butcher knife (fuck me people, the kid is now tall enough to reach on top of the counter…) and choked on half a plastic easter egg and vomited all over the floor.  Yeah…PAN.DE.MONIUM.  And did I mention I can’t pick him up?  AND that he is in daycare for most of the day still.  Talk about feeling like an inadequate parent.  

But we’re finding our balance and Bridget’s working her way into our lives and at times, I can’t even remember what the peace and quiet of having one baby was like.  

We are so tired.  We are so lucky.  

Thanks to Christina at Bellasaluti Photography