Greta, 2 years

2 years old.  What a little firecracker.

Looking back to my thoughts one year ago, I barely knew her at all.  I thought she was mellow.  And calm.  And sweet.  I would now use the words busy, devious and silly.  The girl is smart.  I'm not one to use that word loosely, but she is smart.  She is doing puzzles that her sister didn't do until she was almost 3.  She will sit down and work on something until she figures it out.  Currently, she's obsessed with buckling buckles.  Any unbuckled buckle is an invitation; she pauses to buckle every car seat after everyone gets out (sort of annoying), every high chair and even the buckles on the ergo and backpack.

I see her little mechanical brain at work as she obsesses over Legos.  Every night after we tuck the girls into their bunk bed, Greta drags piles of Legos into her bed and builds things.  She inevitably falls asleep on a heap of them, and wakes up with indentations in her extremities.  But if I dare to take the Legos away she loses her mind, so we let it go.  Watching her mechanical mind at work is fascinating, and I will be very surprised if she doesn't end up somewhere in science, engineering, or the like.

I really need to document some of her shenanigans in these past couple months.

A month ago, our babysitter was watching all the kids.  She put Teddy to bed while Greta and MJ were downstairs in the kitchen (which I also do, so not at all out of line).  Greta dragged the step stool over to the touch pad for our alarm system.  She pressed the "Fire" panic button.  Our babysitter immediately called me for the code and I thought we turned it off in time.  Apparently not, since 5 minutes later a fire engine showed up in front of our house.  To make matters worse, my husband does training for the fire department.  When they came in the house, they saw a Saint Paul Fire Fighters calendar on the wall and asked whose house it was....

Last week, after a very long day with the kids, I plopped myself down on the couch.   I was spent.  MJ was upstairs.  Greta and Teddy were in the kitchen.  I could hear them and sort of see them; I thought Greta was feeding Teddy Puffs.  I don't normally allow her to do this, but I was so exhausted I let her get away with it.  After a few minutes, I got up to check on them.  On the counter was a formerly full pack of Orbitz chewing gum, and on the floor was Teddy spitting out little pieces of gum.  Oy.  She apparently gave him about half a pack, but it seems he spit all or most of it out.

One of our biggest struggles with this girl lately has been having her stick her hand in her poopy diapers.  Nearly every time.  It is incredibly gross, and difficult to manage.  How do you stop this behavior?  We tried everything we could think of, and finally resorted to some spanking.  I don't even believe in spanking.  I have never spanked MJ in her life, and yet Greta has been spanked a hand full of times.  When she decided it was super fun to run away from me into the road.  And, now, when she decided it was fun to upset us by sticking her hand in her poop.  It has stopped both behaviors.  We tried positive reinforcement, etc., but this girl is just downright naughty in a way that MJ never was.  She is devious.  She will wait until everyone is distracted, then go and sneak a piece of candy.  Meanwhile, MJ will always ask permission.  In some ways they are such similar children, especially compared to most other kids I know, but sometimes their differences are stark.

She has also gone through a screaming phase.  She will wait until I have a full cart of groceries and then scream at the top of her lungs.  She seems to realize that there's not much I can do.  I can't put her in time out.  I can't just walk out of the store.  I have to just bare it and get out as quickly as possible.  Another behavior I'm at a loss how to deal with.

I should also pause to focus on her good behaviors.  She is sweet to babies she doesn't know, stopping to give them a dropped pacifier or to kiss their toes.  (She's also sweet to her brother, but quickly gets frustrated and does something less than sweet).  She loves dogs, and will watch out the window for them, then let out a squeal when she sees one.  She loves animals in a way her sister never did, always obsessed about bunnies hopping along or kitties passing by.  She is a great eater, and there is very little that she doesn't like (except, I have recently realized, for bananas).  She is gleeful and precocious, and a downright joy to be around.  Although her naughtiness is difficult to parent, it is thoroughly entertaining to see what sort of schemes she comes up with.  She is my best cuddler, and always crawls into bed with me in the morning to cuddle for a while.  Kisses and hugs are abundant, which warms my mama heart.

Her speech is interesting.  She understands just about everything we say.  She loves looking through picture dictionaries and knows many, many words.  Her pronunciation is pretty far off, though, and her attempts to imitate my speech sound nothing like what I have said.  The pediatrician was not concerned, though, feeling that pronunciation comes between two and three, and her understanding of language and attempts to say it are all that matter at this point.  (Also, at her two year appointment, she was up to 60% for height; such a difference from her sisters 7% height).

She adores her sister.  The two of them play together constantly, with relatively little fighting.  They sleep in the same room (and have for the past year) and transitioned to a bunk bed a few months ago (though that was about a three month process that involved lots of nights with G in a pack and play).

We had a little party for this girl on the occasion of her birth.  The first few photos are of that event.  On her actual birthday, I took her to the pediatrician's (shots!) and took her out for ice cream.  I also took her to the train store, and let her run around as much as she wanted.  Happy girl.  She listens a lot better when I get to pay full attention to her.

On top of all this, this now marks 2 years of me being home.  The time has flown.  I only worked for 3 years before staying home full time, and that period of time just dragged.  Every day I questioned my decision.  While staying home is challenging and exhausting, I never wish I was back at work.  I never question whether what I'm doing is worthwhile or the right decision.  The only thing I worry about is whether I'll have a difficult time getting back into the work force some day, but that seems like a minor concern compared to everything else.

This girl.  She is a plotter, a planner.  She is tenacious.  She closes all open doors, buckles all buckles, insists on putting on her own shoes, tries her darnedest to put on her own clothes, and sits for long periods of time on the potty, trying to figure out how to make it work.  But she is also pretty fearless, flinging herself down slides, meeting every stranger and running headlong into every new experience.  When she was born, I worried for her.  Living in the shadow of an older sister with such a big personality would be tough, I thought.  Now, though, I see that she can hold her own. She has wiggled herself into the Greta shaped hole in our family that we didn't even know was there, and we would not be complete without her.

I love you sweet girl.  

Crazy kids.

It is a point of fascination to me that the parents who have the most to say have the least time to say it.  I seemed to have a lot to say, and a lot of advice to offer, when I had a wee 3-month-old.  I am embarrassed to look back at those posts.  Truly, I knew so very little.

And the more I have to say, with real meaning and content, the less time I have to say it.

I haven't had time to say how I lost Greta at the playground the other day.  Only for about 2 minutes, but goodness, that girl can run, and I know how far she can get in 2 minutes time.  I found her happily kissing a baby she had just met.

Which she is wont to do.  Kiss babies she has just met.  She is the sweetest, gentlest little girl with other people's babies and other people's dogs.  Not, so much, with her own dog and her own baby.  Though she is obsessed with always making sure Teddy has a toy (even if it may be a terrible choking hazard) and feeding the dog, so at least she's interested in their well being.

I haven't had time to discuss watching MJ flirt with a boy at the same playground.  How she stuck her hip out and perched her hand there, taunting "You want someone to kill?  Bet you can't kill me!"  (Which sounds weird, but the boys were apparently playing a shooting game and that was her way of working herself in).  One boy, in particular, chased her all over.  And then she stole his sword (I kid you not) and he wrestled her to get it back.  It was so awkward and so terrifying of things to come that I had to remove myself to the other side of the playground so I didn't lose my mind.  I'm sure she didn't know she was flirting, but that's exactly what it was and she wouldn't have talked to another girl that way.

MJ has become obsessed with history.  "Real stories that really happened".  We've read about Harriet Tubman and Harry Houdini and Jumbo the Elephant and Annie Oakley.  She wants to be a pioneer for Halloween.  It is the first academic interest I've seen blossom in her and it's wonderful.  I constantly have to remind myself not to push her, because any time I do she rebels and gives up.  If I let it come to her in her own time she is usually quite determined to figure it out.  Which is why our attempts at reading so far have not been very fruitful, because I push her and it makes her hate it.  I remember feeling the same as a little girl, when I was pushed to ride my bike or swim.  I still feel antagonism towards those activities, and I don't want to curse her with the same feelings.  So I try to be patient, and encourage these passions when they arise.  Sometimes I do better than other times.

Greta, however, will sit and work at a puzzle until she figures it out.  I remember sitting down with the same puzzle with MJ at 2 1/2 and her struggling and getting so angry.  G is definitely the more patient of the two.  She is also fascinated by building things, legos and and shapes that fit together.  But her language is slower to develop, as well.  I am so curious to see how these little differences will shape them into different people.  

Greta, already grabbing things from me and saying "NO, I DO IT".  Insisting on dressing herself, which she is not at all capable of doing yet.  Today she spent ten minutes walking around with both legs through one short hole, simply because she wouldn't allow us to help her fix it.  

And then there's Teddy.  The baby.  He is off in the corner, quietly teaching himself to crawl.  And, really, he's basically done it.  He's slow, but he moves where he wants to and gets his hands on all sorts of things.  In some ways he's being forced to grow up a little quicker than the others at this age.  He's six months now, so he's starting to eat solids.  But I don't really have time to sit and feed him purees so I am basically giving him things to feed himself.  Baby led weaning, out of necessity rather than out of choice.  

Our house.  It is a crazy, crazy place.  Walking in the door if I've been away from them is like crossing a threshold from the calm, sane place the world generally is, to a screaming, hairpulling, wrestling whirlwind of little children.  I like to take them into the world, because I get to step back (sometimes) and see them for the cute that they really are.  We took them to a "Music in the Park" event last week, and it is always so enjoyable to see the smiles they bring to strangers faces.  Greta stomping her one foot while twirling, completely out of time to the music.  MJ prancing around, pretending she's a ballerina.  Teddy grinning, toothless, at everyone who walks by.  

It is a privilege to spend my days with them, when I can remember to let the little things go.  Like the 3rd spilled cup of milk, or 2nd time G has stuck her hand in her poopy diaper, or the 5th time MJ has burst into tears because I've told her no more sweets.  I always said I wanted a house full of chaos, and it turns out that is exactly what we have achieved.

May Days

Before Teddy was born, during the sunset of 2013, my Mom was fond of saying that 2014 would be the year that I just wouldn't remember.

While the details feel so intricate to me now, I fear she may be right.  Although Teddy is sleeping much better than he was, he is still up twice a night, followed by a 6 am wakeup from the big kids.  I seem unable to fall asleep before 10:00 on most nights.  So I spend much of my day in a haze, with days (like today) that I question whether I should even be driving.

May started a few days ago, right?  Isn't Cinco De Mayo in a couple days?

Sadly, no, that was 16 days ago.  So perhaps I really will forget this year, and I should write down a few things.  I like bulleted lists.  So here's a few events of late.

1.  Tonight we went to the end of year picnic for MJ's school.  It is such a magical place, with goats and llamas and chickens and rabbits and ponies and burros.  Although she enjoys animals now, when she was a toddler we'd take her to the zoo or the aquarium and she was bored unless there was something to climb.  Completely uninterested in the animals around her.  Greta, on the other hand, is nuts for animals.  Absolutely cannot get enough of them.  Although MJ loves this school, I think Greta would be in absolute heaven.  We'll see.  We had planned to send MJ there next year for kindergarten, but she got into a public school down the block from our house and will not be returning in the fall.  We are excited but will miss this magical place.  Perhaps Greta will come in a couple years.

2.  A week and a half ago my Mom arrived.  I had a long list of projects to accomplish while she was here.  During her stay I: built 4 different pieces of patio furniture, a bunk bed, installed the water line for the automatic ice maker on our fridge, cleaned our basement and packed a bunch of baby clothes for my sister in law, fixed a shelf, fixed a lamp, planted bulbs, installed an internet camera, and spread mulch over our front yard.  This is on top of a lot of cleaning and cooking and general wifeliness.

In addition to feeling so accomplished, it was so nice to have my Mom here.  I dare say I enjoyed her visit much more than her last visit.  I so dreaded her departure last time that it almost prevented me from enjoying her stay.  I realized that she and I are alike in this.  If something is hanging over my head, I can't enjoy the moment I'm experiencing.  This is also why I would rather flee town in the middle of the night than have to say goodbye (which she does, too, starting her drive at 3 a.m.!)  We also had some wonderful conversations that made me realize how well she knows me.  Now, being a parent, it often boggles my mind that I used to be the flailing toddler on the ground that she had to endure.  It's not that I thank her so much for those moments, it's that I thank her for continuing to come back and put up with me in spite of them.

3.  The girls have been sharing a bedroom since last August.  It has gone exceptionally well.  There was a short spell in December where MJ was waking Greta up in the morning.  Since MJ often wakes up long before G, this led to a very tired Greta and a very grumpy Mom.  We moved MJ's mattress into another room for a week, as a way of driving home that if she wakes her sister up she can't share a room with her.  During that week both girls slept poorly, with many middle of the night wake ups.  It was really more of a punishment for me, apparently.  So we moved them back together and it has continued to be wonderful.  Until a week and a half ago Greta was still in her crib and MJ was in her toddler bed.

But over the past month I have wanted the crib for Teddy; he was in a pack and play or a smaller crib, but I was convinced it was time to transition.  Furthermore, with my Mom in town, it was a good time to assemble a major piece of furniture.  So we bought one on Amazon and assembled it a week and a half ago.

The girls were so excited.  It was a major project.  8 man hours spent building this thing (5 or 6 of those were woman hours).  Plus the mattresses we bought for it (another major internet research project... mattresses stress me out...)

But it was a rough start.  MJ went to sleep fine, but Greta could not stay in her bed.  Although she had been napping in her sisters bed for months, that was always when MJ was out of the room.  With MJ in the room, in the TOP BUNK, she just wanted to climb up there and play.  MJ would fall asleep and Greta would climb up and pull her hair.  Lots of tears.  Lots of yelling.

So we put Greta in the pack and play.  And the next night.  Many nights.  The first couple nights she wanted to sleep in the pack and play.  The next couple nights she would start in her bed, and then climb out of it, and we would put her in the pack and play.

But finally, we are having some success.  She has now slept in her bed for the past few nights without getting out and bothering her sister.  Then they wake up in the morning and play.  I am back to thinking this was a good idea, but not with enough confidence to fold up the pack and play.

4.  Greta.  Oh, Greta.  If I had any sense at all, this age (22 months) would be my least favorite.  Because she really is a terror.  She's becoming more sweet, but she's still a terror.  She doesn't abuse Vito quite as much as she used to.  She is nicer to her brother than she used to be.  Today I even saw her share and play with another kid.  At the same time, though, she is a runner.  She loves to run away from me.  MJ never did this, perhaps because I could always carry her if there was an issue.  But with Teddy in my arms, Great sees the opportunity to bolt in the opposite direction.  It drives me nuts.  It makes me angry.  And I'm afraid she'll get hurt.  I do not know how to get her to stop.  I think I must just endure it.

But she is so sweet, too.  She loves to cuddle in a way that MJ never did.  She constantly wants to climb into my lap and read books.  Books, books, all the time.  We have a picture encyclopedia that she looks at constantly.  Also a couple Dallas Clayton books.  And, of course, Curious George.  She gives me unprovoked kisses and hugs.  How could I not adore this?  And the chatter.  So much chatter.  I think she's right on the verge of a language explosion; more and more new words popping up, and more complex expressions every day.  I can't decide whether I look forward to more language or not.

5.  MJ is a sweet kid.  She makes me proud to be her Mama 98% of the time.  I am constantly told by strangers how well spoken she is.  And she has finally become a neighborhood kid.  The other kids knock on our fence to ask if she's free to play and are bummed if she isn't.  I expect she'll be leading the pack soon enough, because it seems she's the one that is always furnishing the ideas of what to play.  It is fascinating to watch her become part of her community.  She is so much like her Dad.  And, much like him, she makes me so crazy and so happy, all at the same time.

6.  And Teddy.  My baby.  I am trying to soak up every moment of babyness.  I think if someone could just hand me a 4-month-old, without having to endure pregnancy or newbornhood, I would take it.  Every time. So we'd go from a family of 5 to a family of 15.  He has started to grab faces and pull hair.  Greta looked shocked at first, but now seems to find it funny.  And totally endures it, doesn't try to hit back.  MJ spends a chunk of every day trying to get him to laugh.  It is all so freaking adorable.  I try to remember how adorable it is, always.  Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail.

Oh, G.

In all the rush and chaos of your new brother, I forgot that you passed a milestone, too.  18 months.  All toddler, all the time.  I have loved every age you've been through, even the ones I sort of dreaded, such as this.  Your sister was a very hard toddler, so I sort of dreaded it this time.  I'm not sure that you're much easier, but this time I was prepared.  I knew what I was up against.  And because you're home with me, you get a lot more sleep and therefore a happier kid.  It turns out that if your kid is destroying your house but is smiling and laughing while you do it, it's hard not to smile and laugh yourself.  Even while watching your socks get put in the garbage can.

A few of your faves at this age.
- Chattering all. the. time.  I understand only a small number of the things that come out of your mouth, but you seem convinced that you're having a conversation with me.  I will never know whether there's actual content behind your gibberish, or whether you're just imitating the patterns of speech you hear around you.  I suspect the latter, but you seem to think the former.
- Putting babies to bed.  All over the house.  In every nook and cranny.  You also love to steal your brothers bottles when he's finished with them and either stick them in your play kitchen or give them to your babies.
- Your sister.  Everything she does is fascinating to you.  If she wants to play with you, you are always on board.  It is cool that she is also starting to find you so fun.  Despite occasional tussles over toys, you seem to have the makings of a wonderful friendship.
- Fruit.  Spaghetti.  Frozen peas.  ORANGES ALL THE TIME.  Salmon.
- Tormenting poor Vito.  Your land yourself in timeout for this constantly and yet it seems to make no difference.  I do not know how to get this to stop.  He seems to be getting more frustrated with you, though then you go get a pile of dog food and bring it to him and he forgives you.
- Saying hi to strangers.  I absolutely love this.  Often you're sitting in the cart at the grocery store, and everyone that walks by simply must say hello to you. You will insistently shout "Hi!  Hi!  HI!HI!HI!" until they pay attention and say hi back.  Without fail it brings a smile to everyone's face.

G, you get more fun and more precocious by the day.  You are growing up fast, largely because you want to do what your sister does, and already seem to be ready to put the high chair away.  You already pay attention to letters and ask me what they are.  And books, all. the. time.  They are your constant companion.  Although I constantly compare and contrast you to your sister, I love seeing you become your own person.  You have rocked my world little one, and now you're starting to rock everyone else's.  Thanks for joining our family.

Love,
Mama

Our little walker

I love this little waddle.  She’s been solidly walking for about a week, and already that waddle is diminishing as she gets more sure on her feet.  I should also clarify, her wet bottom is because she was playing in a creek; I do, in fact, change her diaper.

Gigi rounds the bend.

And by that, I mean she turned one.  The big 1.  It felt like such a milestone for MJ, and did not feel like much of a milestone for Greta.  I did have the obligatory “last year at this time…” type feelings, but this time I know how much more we have to go.  And by that, I mean that I don’t really know, because I do know there’s a lot more I don’t even know about.  But I realize she’s still so little this time, and have a better idea of what lies in front of me.

Nonetheless, the girl deserved cake, and a celebration of her little personhood.  We were in New York for her birthday, visiting my in-laws, so it was a great opportunity for them to get to celebrate with her.  At 1 year, Greta was finally pushing through her first tooth, which still remains nothing more than a nub and which I still haven’t snagged a good picture of.  At 1, she’s taking steps but not exactly walking (though 2 weeks later I would call it walking, with a good bit of crawling still mixed in).  Most of all, she is my little Gigi, and not really all that little.  She’s still all smiles, and exudes joy all the time.  She gets grumpy on occasion, mostly if she’s tired or hungry, but all other times is a bucket of smiles.  She’s getting some definite curls, which makes me smile; her hair is darker and a bit redder than her sisters.  But they very much look like sisters, which makes me happy.

One of her favorite things is climbing stairs, and if the gate is left open she looks at me to see if I’ve noticed, then races as fast as she can to the stairs.  She loves to pile things in boxes, bags, and carts and haul them around.  She is obsessed with putting objects inside other objects, which is something MJ didn’t enjoy until she was quite a bit older.  She’s not all that interested in books yet, but we keep trying.  

She has become so much a part of this family, and trying to remember life before is difficult and seems empty.  She loves her Dad something fierce.  Despite being home with me all day, she is not afraid of strangers and is happy to smile and chatter with anyone.  She’s even open to other folks holding her, as long as they give her a moment to take them in first.  She is an interesting combination of busy and easy.  She’s into everything, but so very good at entertaining herself.  And not really all that destructive, given her age (or at least, given what I remember of MJ at this age.)

Gigi, I can’t believe it’s already been a year.  And, also, I can’t believe it’s only been a year, because it feels as though you’ve been part of our family forever.  I love you something fierce, and I’m so happy you’re ours.

Love, Mama

Some first steps and remnant crawling.

10 months...

... and a record 11 days late.  But I promise I'll have you to your first day of school on time.

There are a lot of pictures here, but I narrowed it down from 142, so I think I'm doing pretty good.  I also think I have the most adorable little chunk on the planet.  My neighbor possibly said it best, "She looks like a little lemon!"

This was a fun month.  I was almost sad to see her start crawling, because it means she's getting so big, but it's been fun to see her explore.  It's been interesting to see what she gets into when she can get into whatever she wants.  At the close of the month, she still wasn't a fast crawler (which has since changed), but she does get where she wants to go.

Her schedule is a little weird, I think.  She generally goes to sleep about 6 or 7 pm, and will sleep until about 7 or 8 am.  She takes two bottles in that interval, one before I go to bed and one sometime in the early morning hours.  I know she's old enough to be night weaned, but she scarfs them down and goes right back to sleep, so I'm rolling with it.  She'll then only take one nap a day.  I admit we cheat, in that she sometimes (often) goes in the swing in the early morning to get her to sleep a bit longer.  Otherwise she'd be up at 6 and ready to nap by 9, right when MJ and I are trying to go somewhere.

She continues to be the most mellow, happy and smiley kid.  She's quieter and calmer than MJ, but not really very quiet or calm.  Her desperation to walk has toned down a bit since she started crawling; although she still pulls herself up a lot, not as much as she used to.

She eats pretty well, and likes most everything, with the exception of fava beans and avocado.  This was the month she insisted on feeding herself, so we've had to get more creative in what we give her.  My realization that squeeze pouches work well has been a godsend.

I want to hold on to my baby forever, but as I give her a bottle in the middle of the night, I realize how much she's outgrowing the cradle position I like to hold her in.  My lap suddenly seems much smaller.  She'll be a toddler soon, I know.  I'm sure it's lucky that the baby phase passes quickly or we would eat our young, but it's so very bitter sweet.  I think I'll probably cry at her 1st birthday party, officially beckoning in the era of me becoming my mother.

Greta, I want to bottle your sweetness and smiles and never let them go.  Imagining you as a tantrummy, attitude filled 3 year old makes me cringe a little.  I am excited to see your personality shine through, but I will forever miss you just as you are now.

 

Happy Uterine Birthday!

Although the 1-year mark is a major milestone in our western culture, it seems that the 9 month mark is a bit more fitting.  At 9 months, Greta has now been out of my uterus as long as she was in it.  Pretty crazy to think how much time has passed since she was born; trying to imagine life without her is impossible.  The fact she spent just as much time inside is amazing, because that time didn't seem as monumental.  She kicked some, but didn't do much else as far as I was concerned.

This has been a really, really big month for her (and, therefore, for us).  This month, Greta started sleeping.  In the week after her 8 month birthday, her sleeping went to shit.  She started waking up 3, 4 or 5 times a night.  The night before I gave up she consumed 20 ounces overnight, and a mere 7 during the day.  She was totally flipped around, but any time we tried to feed her smaller bottles or water down her formula so that she would eat more during the day, she would have none of it.  While I didn't want to resort to cry-it-out cold-turkey style, I didn't know what else to do.  I hated thinking of her being so hungry all night, but there seemed to be no other way.

However, we did concoct a plan to lessen the blow.  I'm sure I will get judged by the internets for this one, but it worked really well.  The first night we drugged her.  We gave her Benadryl in hopes of getting her to sleep as long as possible, and then hopefully she'd only be upset for a small part of the night.  She slept until about 4 a.m., and then cried for all of 30 minutes (the horror, ugh.)  But then that was about it.  She woke again about an hour late and cried a bit.  When she woke up after 6 we decided it was time to feed her.  We fed her then, and she ate a ton throughout the day.  The second night was better, she cried for maybe 10 or 15 minutes.  By the 4th night she didn't cry at all.  I thought about other non-cry-it-out approaches, but this seemed the most humane, to me.  So that she knew from the first moment that something was different and she'd have to adjust, rather than leading her on. Since that time she's done really well.  We continue to give her a dream feed before we go to bed.  The first week we got up with her when she woke after 6 am (to break the habit of waking up for feedings in the middle of the night), but now we give her a bottle at 6 and put her back to sleep for an hour or two.  She still doesn't take many bottles during the day, too much happening, but she drinks a lot right before bed and at those other two feedings (prob 15-18 ounces) so she's pretty set for the day.

Her other big accomplishment is crawling.  She started crawling on April 27th, two days before turning 9 months.  With MJ it was a much more gradual transition into crawling, but with Greta it was an abrupt shift.  It clicked for her, and she was off.  It's still more like scooting, but there's some crawling mixed in, and she definitely gets places.  Like her sister, she's very persistent and determined to get places.  She loves chewing on shoes (ugh!) and will seek out the tiniest piece of garbage to put in her mouth.  She also loves outlets, something MJ never cared about.

Poor second child has definitely been injured more than MJ was.  Today she fell down two stairs as I was reading to MJ.  I just don't have my eye on her as closely as I did for MJ.  Partly, I think, because I had to keep my eye on MJ so closely.  But partly just because she's a second child.

This little girl just lights up my life.  She's so full of joy and the first comment out of everyone's mouth is how happy she is.  She beams from ear to ear much of the day.  She jabbers and screeches much of the day, too.  She continues to be "the calm one" but that will really only hold true in our family, because she's still awfully energetic and ready to get into things.

This month also saw my first trip away from her.  Two nights in Vegas with some girlfriends.  It was a glorious trip, and so very needed, but I did miss her (and MJ, too; my life is just not as entertaining without her in it).  When I got back she kept poking me, as if to say "Are you real?"  She also bonded with her Dad while I was gone, in a way that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.  She's still definitely a Mama's girl, but she adores her Dad and he now has the confidence to watch her and play with her.

Happy 9 Months Miss G.  You're getting more interesting every day, and my love for you just keeps on growing.

As usual, the very first photo I take is one of my favorites.

These photos were so much more difficult to get than last months.  And I think blocks would be easier than the sign I used for MJ.... so wrong....

Basically, the photos only worked if she didn't notice the blocks were there.

Showing off some new skills she didn't have last month.

Proving to me that I shouldn't underestimate the trouble she's capable of.  

So the photo shoot devolved into nursery pictures.

Since she's nine months and I neer got around to taking photos of the nursery.

I was not pleased with the lighting, though.  And a few other things I forgot to move before taking these photos.

The walls are much more of a sunshine yellow than these photos are letting on.

4 months + 4 days

Whew!  The fact that I can form a witty enough title to make the lateness of this post secondary makes me feel better. 

This month has been great.  Greta is sleeping wonderfully (except for the week following that post where I said how great she'd been sleeping... so don't tell anyone that I said she's sleeping well....).  I finally bit the bullet and decided to stay home.  So glad about that.  She's napping pretty terribly, meaning she's often in bed by 6:30 or 7:00.  I remember how awful it was when I was getting home at 5:30, trying to get dinner ready, MJ was a hot mess, and then in bed an hour later.  So little time together, and so far from quality. 

Life has been busy, and Greta gets dragged along to all of it.  Showing the rental to prospective tenants.  Swim lessons with MJ (where she swam by herself for the first time tonight!! Proud mama!)  Walks to try to fit in some exercise.  At some point I know she'll be less flexible, but thankfully not yet.  For a while I tried to have her home to nap, but she is so unpredictable there's really no point.

Nursing is... okay.  This was the month without pumping.  Breastfeeding as it's meant to happen.  And it has mostly worked.  For about 4 or 5 days we even went without bottles.  But then she refused to take a bottle as we were leaving for a date night, and since then I've been giving her a bottle a day.  Usually it's formula or thawed breastmilk, pumping seems to interfere with our schedule.  Inevitably, if I pump she's hungry 10 minutes later.  So I just don't pump and have accepted that she gets some formula.  At our 4 month checkup she had dropped a bit on the weight chart, and the pediatrician encouraged giving her a bit more formula, so about a bottle and a half a day.  Which I actually haven't had much luck doing yet, because she won't really take it.  So it's possible she's just leveling out to a smaller size, just as MJ did.  I'm not too concerned about it.  In fact, I'm not too concerned what happens at this point.  She's 4 months old, two rounds of vaccinations, and if breastfeeding doesn't continue to work then so be it.  I like how easy it makes night time, because I can doze while nursing her and don't have to prepare a bottle.  But apart from that, I don't care so much.  And if she was eating more during the day maybe she wouldn't need to eat at night. 

Watching MJ and Greta become sisters is glorious.  Tonight MJ discovered that she can make Greta laugh, and it was wonderful to watch.  She would stick her face right in Greta's and laugh maniacally; it looked annoying to me, but Greta loved it so MJ kept doing it.  Yesterday, as MJ and Greta cuddled while we read books, Greta kept pulling MJ's hair.  But MJ was super patient and just held her hand so she couldn't do it, rather than getting upset.  I'm so hopeful they'll have a good relationship. Only time will tell. 

Greta continues to be mellow.  I think this may be my favorite age.  She smiles and laughs all the time, sleeps pretty well and is not yet difficult to watch.  She's cuddly and loves to be held.

This month the smiles were effortless.  As were the dimples.

 

 

Day 53

I'm sitting here waiting for Greta to wake up.  So that I can feed her and go to bed.  Though now that I think about it, I'm not sure if I'm tired enough to fall asleep.  I'm very tired, mind you, but my brain always has to be in that special place to actually fall asleep.

So a little update.  Without pictures, because that's one step too many.

I've been trying to think how to describe life with two kids.  I often catch myself thinking "And I thought having just an infant was hard".  But MJ has been going to preschool during the day, and I'm with just Greta much of the time, and it still feels hard during those times.  So what is the difference?

With just an infant, you really don't have time to do much of anything other than watch the infant.  Cooking, laundry, cleaning; all difficult because your hands are almost always full with a baby, or you're pumping (in my case) or changing a diaper or rocking.  But you have lots of time to think about all the things you're not doing, because actually watching the baby doesn't take much brain power.

With two, I no longer have time to even think.  I am simply running on auto pilot anytime both children are awake and active.  I am constantly calculating what are realistic expectations to set for MJ, what order to do things in (MJ WANTS FOOD!! GRETA WANTS MILK!!  Who wins?  It's a constant calculation of how to best satisfy everyone).  I don't have time or energy to try to stay patient; I am simply on autopilot and hopefully the kiddos get patient mom today.  Which is entirely dependent on how much sleep I've had, how much coffee, and whether the moon is in the right alignment.  And then, at the end of the day, or for brief moments during the day, I look at everything that hasn't happened.  I think about the fact that it's fall and beautiful.  I think about the birth announcements that are still sitting unsent.  But I don't get nearly as much time to even think about those things when I am watching both girls. 

But all in all, life has been pretty sweet.  I truly don't know how women (or men) that watch an infant and a toddler all day long do it.  At least, if they watch the kiddos and don't have a spouse around.  I assuage my guilt for having MJ in preschool with the knowledge of how very much DH works; he has been gone every evening this week save one, and will be gone every evening next week.  So if I didn't have MJ in preschool during the day I would be solo parenting for entire days most of the time.  I know some women do this.  I think I would lose my mind.

Greta has been interacting more.  Smiling lots, with the exception of these last few days as she battles her first cold.  It makes me glad to be breast feeding (which is really mostly pumping with a little bit of breastfeeding) because it has been a minor cold, and I like to think it's because of that.  I should clarify she smiles a lot when she's fed, changed and awake, which is not for huge chunks of the day. 

She has been sleeping a bit better.  We get 4ish hour stretches rather than 3, which makes a huge difference.  Furthermore, she wakes, eats, and goes back to sleep.  No more middle of the night parties.  I have to acknowledge that she is (usually) amazingly easy to get back to sleep.  The whole idea of "put them down drowsy but awake" actually works on her.  I used to try that with MJ but always ended up rocking/bouncing her to sleep.  I lay Greta down, swaddled with her Nuk, and she just peacefully drifts off to sleep. It's amazing.  Sometimes I wish she needed to be rocked a little more, but I know better than to establish that habit and just thank my lucky stars.  I also know this could change at any time, but I'll take it and hope it continues.

That's about all I've got.  MJ continues to be a great big sister.  This week we ditched the last vestige of diapers; she now sleeps through the night in undies, and we've gone 8 nights with no accidents.  We had her third birthday party last weekend, which I dare say was a blast.  Complete with apple bobbing and a pinata, and lots of crazy toddlers.  I didn't get many pictures because I was too busy hosting, but suffice it to say that MJ got it.  This party was for her. The presents were for her.  This is the first year it has sunk in, and she is now a huge fan of birthdays.  It's probably fair to say that it all went to her head a bit, but maybe that's unavoidable?  When everyone gives you presents and sings to you, you probably just think you're the bomb.  
Alright.  Greta is still not awake, but I am definitely tired enough.  So to sleep I go.

Greta's Birth Story

One of the more frustrating things in life is a peacefully sleeping baby, coupled with the inability to fall asleep myself.  DH kindly took Greta this morning so I could get some extra sleep, but I didn't realize he'd let me sleep as long as I wanted!  I slept until noon, and now can't fall asleep for anything.

So I'm trying to get some things done.  And drinking a beer in the hopes it will help me fall asleep.

Let's go back a month.  On Saturday, July 28th, we went to a going away party for some dear friends of ours.  They were our first friends in Minnesota and are greatly missed.  At the time, I thought we would see them again before their departure, so it didn't really feel like a goodbye.  That, and I hate goodbyes, so I usually just avoid them.  It was a wonderful party.  MJ was up late that night, probably not getting to bed until about 10 o'clock.  I felt completely blissed out.  It was an absolutely phenomenal evening.  I'm not sure quite how to describe it, but the feeling was one of elation, intoxication (and no, nothing was imbibed).  At first I felt like it was due to it being a wonderful party, which it was, but as DH and I were crawling into bed I realized that the feeling was the exact same as I had had the evening before I went into labor with MJ (which was at a Regina Spektor concert).  I made a comment to DH that if I was a betting person, I would bet that I would go into labor with MJ that night.

I got up many times that night to pee, and as the early morning hours started to roll around I began to despair.  Like, really despair.  I had been really, really certain that I was going to go into labor.  And now it looked like I was wrong.  But about 6 am I woke up with very mild cramping.  I thought it was wishful thinking, but (of course) hoped it was the real thing.  By 7 they were real enough that I began to wonder if I wasn't imagining it.  I decided to get things ready, just in case.  I got out of bed and made some cinnamon rolls.  I packed up the last of the things that needed to come to the hospital with us.  At 7:45 I had some bloody show, and I started to become convinced this was it.  I was nervous to notify anyone, because I didn't want to be wrong.  But the show convinced me to contact our doula.  Just a head's up, in case she was trying to plan her day.

MJ woke up about 8 and was ecstatic to see cinnamon rolls waiting for her.  We ate some together then woke up Dad.  I told him I thought I was in labor and he should get up and get things together.  He was totally skeptical but I ignored him.

Apparently at 8:45 I started sending out emails to people (because I have a record of this).  My contractions were 7 to 9 minutes apart.  I asked our friends if they could watch MJ for the day.  I told my work that I would not be coming in and sent them my timesheet info.  I was pretty convinced, apparently.  I still was afraid that things would totally stall but didn't want to be caught in a panic situation.  I also lost my mucous plug at 10 am.  So by about 10ish (10:30?) MJ was at our friends house with enough stuff to stay the night if needed.  She was excited for it and completely oblivious when contractionts hit, but I was relieved when she was gone. I knew she was in safe hands and I didn't have to worry about anything other than getting the baby out. 

After DH came home from dropping MJ off we sat and watched some olympics.  I had some strong contractions and called the oncall midwife.  Contractions were 5-7 minutes apart.  She seemed subdued, unconvinced this was anything serious yet, but I was convinced.  I took some Zofran at 11, because I was starting to feel nauseous and wanted to head off the extreme nausea that had gotten me last time.  I ate part of a sandwich, largely because I was told to.  Our doula showed up about 11 to see how things were going.  We chatted for a while, and my contractions lessened.  We went for a walk and things seemed to have totally slowed down.  This was exactly what I was scared of: putting everyone on alert for nothing.  After our walk, about 12:30, when it seemed nothing was happening, our doula went home for a while.  We sat and watched some more olympics, me feeling totally discouraged.  But by 1:30 things had picked up again.  I took some more Zofran.  DH called our doula again about 1:45, and when she showed up at the house 15 minutes later things were intense.  While we were chatting, I had an absurdly painful contraction that made me convinced it was time to go to the hospital.  I remember Rebecca asking what it felt like and responding that it felt like someone was stabbing me.  It wasn't until then that I realized my water had broken during that contraction.  So we threw everything in the car and left, about 2:15.

I sat in the back seat of our virtually brand new minivan.  I didn't think to bring a towel.  With every contraction fluid went everywhere.  I remember just sitting in a puddle of warm fluid thinking how gross this was going to be.  I also remember driving by the hospital we had MJ at, which is about 5 minutes from our house, thinking "Why did we decide to go somewhere so much further?  Maybe it's not too late to just go to the closer hospital."  I was yelling through each contraction at this point. 

At some point, I realized we were nowhere we were supposed to be.  I asked DH "Where the fuck are we?"  I took joy in swearing, knowing MJ was nowhere around and therefore it was okay.  All in all, I think I took the fact that DH got lost on the way to the hospital very well.  I was really in too much pain to worry too much about it, and by the time I realized it we were almost there. 

He dropped me at the door to the ER so he could park.  I was not in a cooperative mood.  I spoke to the receptionist, and she asked me to sit down while she contacted maternity.  I told her no.  I need to go now.  I am not sitting down.  I wasn't angry or anything, I just felt like there was no way I could do these things they were asking me to do.  They wheeled me to maternity (I was still leaking fluid, afterall) and asked me questions on the way.  They called my midwife, got me into a room and told me I'd have to wait to be checked and monitored.  Again, I couldn't do this.  I wanted to get in the bathtub.  I remember them telling me I'd have to wait, and then leaving.  They didn't come back!  So I did it myself (with help from Rebecca and DH once they realized I was not going to abide by what I was told). 

When they came back and checked me at 3 o'clock I was 8 cm.  This made me feel better, knowing that I had every right to be having a tough time at that point.  I almost wish I'd arrived earlier, because at that point I had a really hard time complying with their requests.  They wanted to monitor the baby for 15 minutes before letting me labor freely.  A reasonable request, but it was torture to not move.  Things went so fast from there that I never really felt like I got my feet beneath me.  I wish I'd had a little more time to settle in before labor picked up so much.

By 3:20 there was only a tiny lip of cervix left.  But we were having problems with Greta's heart rate.  It kept dropping to uncomfortably low levels, so they put an internal fetal scalp monitor on her.  I was having the urge to push, but the lip of cervix wasn't gone until ~4 pm.  After about an hour and a half of pushing, Greta was not really descending.  She was somewhat twisted, and we continued to have problems with her heart rate.  I felt like this was becoming a mirror of MJ's birth.  The difference was that with MJ, I had an epidural at this point and felt like I just wasn't pushing effectively because of it.  This time I could feel everything and was pushing, but just didn't feel her get anywhere.  She was stuck at +1 or +2, I think.  I was starting to shake really badly with each contraction and became convinced I needed an epidural.  Largely, I felt like I had to do something to change what was happening.  Because we'd tried lots of positions, etc., and all that was happening is that I was getting exhausted and she wasn't moving.  I was starting to become so convinced this would end in c-section that I wanted to change something.  I also found myself making peace with MJ's birth, because I started to think that it was my anatomy and not anything I did. I knew that the epidural might lead to a c-section, but I felt like I was already heading that way and maybe it would help me rest.

At 5:30 they gave me some fentanyl, which I don't recall provided any relief.  At 6:10 the epidural was in.  Having to sit still through those contractions was absolute torture, but it went in without a problem.  It started to take effect soon after and they let me rest until about 8:00.  During that time, I had my right leg resting on a peanut (which looks like a large, peanut shaped birth ball) with the hope that my contractions would turn her into a better position.  At 8 I started pushing again, but there were two issues.  Her heart rate kept dropping unless I was in one particular position (which was not the position I needed to push from).  So every time I pushed I had to rearrange myself, then go back to another position so her heartrate returned to normal.  Furthermore, I couldn't feel when the contraction was coming so the timing was problematic.  They were concerned enough about Greta's heartrate section that they called the OB in from home.

 This looked even more like it was heading towards a C-section.  If I had gone with any other OB practice I still think it would have.  Between the time the OB was called and the time she arrived, we figured some things out.  We were able to turn the epidural down to the point that I could feel the contractions well enough to know when to push.  This also helped Greta's heart rate; it still fell a bit when I was pushing, but wasn't as dramatic or prolonged.  When the OB arrived, rather than suggesting a C-section, she labored with me for a while, then went into the other room and let my midwife take over again.  I was very impressed (in retrospect) at the way she dealt with everything.

By 8:45 I was into active pushing.  I recall at 9:30 asking how much longer they felt it would take, because I needed to mentally gear myself up if we were looking at hours still.  I could feel myself wearing out again.  But they told me no, we were close.  We were not talking about hours still.  Shortly thereafter I remember feeling her hairy little head with my hand; one of the oddest feeling things I've ever experienced.  And at 10:08 she was born!

The activity immediately after she was born was frenzied.  There was a lot of meconium, so they had a whole team in place in case she was in bad shape.  The cord was around her neck, which was what was causing the heart rate drops.  They let DH cut the cord then rushed her to the little NICU table (not sure what the real name for it is) to suction her; she took a breath before being suctioned, but didn't show any detrimental effects from it.

It was all pretty awesome.  I felt pretty ecstatic it had worked out.  I didn't feel the rush of "I can do anything" that so many women talk about.  I mainly just felt really freaking lucky that this didn't end in a c-section.

In retrospect, if we have another kid, I'm not sure if I would try for another VBAC.  I felt like we so narrowly squeaked by that I'm not confident another birth wouldn't end in C-section.  Last time, I attributed all of my recovery to the C-section, but this birth showed me there was still quite a bit from a vaginal birth.  Much more than I expected.  Yes, the recovery was easier than with a C-section, but if I had to put a number on it the recovery was still about half as bad, maybe a little more.  My greatest fear is pushing for a long time and still getting a C-section, and I'm not convinced that wouldn't happen again.  Only time will tell, and only if we decide to have another kid. 

The rest of our stay in the hospital was pretty uneventful.  She nursed pretty well, we got some rest.  MJ loved meeting her for the first time, and you can see in the picture below she was already stealing her things.  There is, of course, always more to say.  But this post has been a week and a half in the works, so time to just hit "Publish" already...