Mama Love

I remember the first time I realized just how much I loved Ryan. It nearly knocked me to the ground. But I'm used to it now. I'm used to that feeling, and though it's always overwhelming, it doesn't knock me upside the head anymore.

 What surprises me lately is just how much I love Finleigh. I knew I'd love her. I expected to love her. I'm just, once again, taken back by how much I love her. It's breathtaking.

I remember someone once telling me that she's step in front of a bullet for her kids. I was 22, and didn't understand it. Couldn't understand it. But it stuck with me. And I get it now. I'd step in front of a bullet for my girls. Without even thinking, I would do that for my kids.

It's a love that cannot truly be understood until you have children. Doesn't matter how they arrive into your life, whether by birth, adoption, surrogacy, or any other way you can think of to "birth" a child; mamas will step in front of trains for their babies.

This is how we survive, how we've survived. Once upon a time, it was bears and lions. Then it was militias and pillagers, and now, we parents are protecting our children from a myriad of villains. Predators, commercialism, Disney...it's a scary world out there.

I suppose, in the end, I'm more likely to step in front of a Disney movie for my kids.

Perfect light...

Today was another one of those PacNW days that reminds us all why we choose to live in the gray rain 300 days out of the year. Perfect sunshine, perfect breeze, perfect temperature. And all just in time for Mama's Day. It's like Mother Nature came out to celebrate with us human Mamas.

When I walked outside to take the dog out this morning, I was instantly hit with memories. Something about the sunshine, and no doubt my upbringing in California, but sunny mornings always offer up some kind of flashback for me. Today: shorts, sweatshirts, freezing legs standing around waiting for the school bell to ring (and secretly wishing it wouldn't), knowing full well that by lunchtime we'd all be sweltering, but jumping around trying to keep warm nonetheless. Smelling the grass, the dew, and the wind. But, of course, the new addition to that memory: knowing that my husband of almost 6 years, my four year old and my 7 week old (and a big cup of coffee) were waiting for me inside.

The day continued to remain pretty amazing: bikes, barbecue, beer, babies, and of course, bedtime. And bedtime is often my favorite part of the day. Not just because it signals a bit of an end to the "workday" for us mamas, but also because on a sunny day like this, it is the only time of day our little home is lit up. And our bedroom gets the most perfect light from 6-7pm. So, as I was getting ready to read Peanut her bedtime story, with Finleigh joining us to hear all about Barbie Fairy Elina saving spring, I caught this perfect light. A prism on the wall, my Peanut pensively pondering fairies (alliteration much?), and me, with only my point and shoot camera (a new DSLR is on it's way...I'm dying for it!).

 And both of my girls waiting to hear their story. I love that Ryan loves her little sister this much.

I'm a lucky mama...and I live a charmed life. And I thank so many for it. My fabulous husband, my amazing parents, and the myriad of friends that make my life complete and without whom I wouldn't be half the mama I am.

Happy Mother's Day, friends and family.

Possibilities...

I was looking at Finleigh the other day as she smiled her goofy newborn smile in her sleep (big, open mouth, just goofy) and thinking about what she may be when she grows up. This is something I wonder about my girls all the time...I'm sure most parents do. You look at your sweet baby, or your big kid (made to seem even bigger and more grown up in comparison to the new one) and imagine if they'll be mothers, teachers, lovers, friends.

It was a sweet moment.

And then, this sweet, smiling baby in my lap puked. Exorcist style, projectile, shooting out her nostrils puke. All over me. ALL OVER. Sweet moment FAIL.

Such is life with a newborn...who's no longer a newborn. She's 4 weeks old, a month on Thursday. Where did the time go? I wonder that as I look at this baby who is smiling at us all, cooing and gooing, napping and watching and taking it all in. She smiled for the first time this week: at Ryan. Moments like that are why we have more children; watching them interact is what it's all about.

And watching; I've been doing a lot of that lately. Observing, quietly, often through the lens of my camera, and learning more about my kids as I capture them on camera.

My kids. I still get a kick out of saying that. Or my girls. It's kind of like when Michael and I got married, and for months, got a total kick out of calling each other "my husband" and "my wife". And everytime I say, "my girls", Ryan reminds me that we're "our girls". She's always chatting with Finleigh, reminding her that big sister's here, that big sister loves her, and singing to her.

Speaking of the big sis...her funnies for the week:
hand santizer = "hanitizer"
"mommy, I'm polishing off daddy's oatmeal right now"

"papa, the table's all jacked up" (a favorite phrase in our house)

Finleigh Esther has arrived...

And as is tradition in this family, she arrived with quite the fanfare.

I kept joking with my midwives that I wouldn't even recognize labor until my water broke, since that's how things started with Ryan. They thought I'd be OK. Heck, I was really only joking. I TEACH this stuff...c'mon. Contractions 5 minutes apart, lasting a minute or more, for more than an hour, hard enough that you have to breathe through them. Well, I had those contractions, but they didn't really hurt, and I didn't have to breathe through them unless I was sitting down. That probably should have been clue number one.

Let's back up a bit though...

Saturday (3/20) I decided that I was pretty much done being pregnant, and I was just about ready to do ANYTHING to get this kid out. I mean anything. I bought castor oil. But I didn't take it. I ended up just chilling on Saturday, going to the park, napping, going to a birthday party for Ryan's friend, falling asleep early.

Sunday (3/21) Operation Get Baby Out in full effect. We had no plans, as we'd kind of expected to have a baby by this point. So, off I went to walk, without the Peanut. She walks too slow, and I wanted a bit of time to myself. I headed to Redmond Town Center...I had a 30% off coupon for the Gap, and they had the one and only pair of jeans RE likes on sale. Got those for her, walked a LOT more, did some stairs, then got bored. Felt some cramps while I was walking, but certainly nothing that would stop me. So, I headed to Ben Franklin, and wandered around there for a while. Stopped at a drug store to buy an enema (told you, about ready to try anything), then headed to Trader Joes. Still crampy, but not bad at all. Grocery shopped, and got everything we'd need for the week. By this point, I was tired, so I headed home. Michael and RE were still out (they'd gone to run some errands too), so I decided to get Ryan's spring clothes all washed and ready to go. Then I facebooked (what else would I do?). Michael and Ryan got home, and we made one heck of a dinner (steak with beet and kale risotto - amazing).

After dinner, I couldn't sit still, and my back was really sore, but of course, I chalked it up to having been out all day. So, I folded the laundry, swept the floors, vacuumed, straightened the baby's stuff, cleaned the kitchen, then went off to do that one other thing that gets labor going...you know the one. Well, that might just have been the kicker. Contractions were a pretty consistent 5 minutes apart after that, but they still didn't really hurt (aside from that darn sore back). I sat on the ball while we watched TV and just kind of chilled out. Around 11, we thought maybe we should call the midwives just to give them a heads up that labor would probably be happening at some point that night. We called at about 1130 and my MW suggested I try to get some sleep. I was in bed by midnight.

At 1am, I woke up to a strong contraction (argh, that sounds like one of the things I read my labor classes...so rote). I laid there through it, because this had happened before and they'd faded away. But this one was long and strong. And the next one came pretty close...I think about 3 minutes apart. I tried getting on all fours, but it was horrible, and I was alone, in the dark, stuck in an awful position. I could barely move, but knew I had to get Michael. I hollered, but he sleeps like a brick and didn't hear me. I had to find my way out to the living room...I did, but barely. I made it to the dining room table and bent over it. I told him he had to call the MWs...we made that call at 1:37am.

I made my way back to the bedroom, since leaning over was the only comfortable position I could stand, and I'd rather lean on the bed. Michael bustled around getting the bed made up with the table cloth under it. Meanwhile I'm contracting every minute or so, lasting longer than a minute (time was pretty irrelevant at this point).  My thoughts were a jumble of "ohgodthishurtsican'tbelievei'minlaborhowmuchlongerwillthislastthishurtssobadholyshit". I really had no idea how long this would all last. At some point, I realized I was pushing a bit...crap. The midwives weren't there yet. I yelled to Michael (no idea where he was, probably right by my side, but I really couldn't see anything) that I was pushing. He threw the second plastic cloth under where I was standing, which was a smart idea, as the next little push broke my water. Honestly, one of the thoughts I had at this point was something to the effect of "oh my god, I'm doing this, we're doing this, all by ourselves, and it's totally normal and this is birth and how it's really meant to happen, and I'm pushing with the urge, and no one's telling me what to do or how to do it and this is birth". The next push, which felt like only seconds later, really broke my water. And I mean full on huge gush of water...followed almost immediately by a little head. A head? What?! Where were the MWs?? Yeah, not there yet. Michael supported the head, and I yelled, "oh my god, is that a head? I think that's a head!" Michael replied that yep, it's a head, and was I ready to push out the rest of our baby? Nope, let me breathe for a second. I felt the next contraction, and with it, an amazing urge to push. I guess Michael helped guide the baby's shoulders out, one at a time, turning her a bit and helping her join this world. She squeaked, then cried, then really let it wail. I kept telling her to cry for mama. He handed her to me, but the cord was a little short, so we were in kind of a strange position. He had to help me up to the bed, as I started shaking from adrenaline almost immediately. Not sure how we got up there, but we did, and I flopped over, ecstatic, amazed, awed, and completely blown away. We didn't even really bother to check the sex, we were so overwhelmed with what we'd just done, together, alone. We were still alone. We checked - a girl! I'd known from the get-go...the moment the stick turned pink we were having another girl, but of course, I wasn't positive until she was in my arms.

Finleigh Esther was born at 2:04am on March 22, 2010. At home. Caught by her daddy. While RE slept (yes, slept through mommy yelling and screaming and moaning). And the midwives and friends drove.

Patty arrived first...Michael greeted her at the door, and told her that the baby was here. She was disbelieving. And then, apparently, a little panicked. But upon arriving in the room, realized all was OK. It was great to have her here...she got me a pillow, found some blankets for me, and just kind of held my head until the midwives arrived.

Lindsay got here the same time as the midwives...she was also in shock that the baby was already here. Well, so were the midwives, really! Lindsay started taking pictures almost immediately, since that was her job. I'm bummed there were no pics of the birth itself, but it was such an awesome experience I wouldn't trade it.

The midwives were a little concerned, of course, wanting to make sure the placenta came out...it was now about 20 minutes after birth and the placenta really showed no signs of wanting to separate. We gave it a few more minutes...then they had to do some manipulating to get it out, but it came out, cleanly, and without any excess bleeding, so we were all set. They checked me out, and were I think a little surprised to find that all was totally fine.

By this time, Finleigh was nursing, so we let her nurse, and chatted about what had happened, and laughed and talked until she was done and ready to be examined. We woke up Ryan at some point in here. She was super excited to meet her sister, and since she missed the whole placenta/umbilical cord thing, she was really into watching her get weighed and measured. She weighed in at 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and 20 inches long. A full pound and an inch and a half bigger than Ryan was. They hung around for a little while longer, and around 4am, everyone left. Patty helped get Ryan back to sleep, and Finleigh and I settled in for the rest of the morning to sleep.

Around 730, we woke up to Ryan wanting to make sure her little sister was really here. I'm sure she thought it might have been a dream. I know I was wondering the same thing myself...

At this point, I know it's cliche, but I can't imagine our household without Finleigh. She's a part of us, and an amazing part. She's certainly brought Michael and I closer together...who knew when I started dating him in high school that someday he'd be catching my babies!?

Welcome to the world Finleigh Esther. We love you.

Lots of crafting happening...

...as a lovely way to pass the time waiting for baby.

Ryan made these shirts for the baby, very stylish. She even added her name to one of them, just in case we forget who the baby belongs to.

This is the massive pile of stuff I've got planned out...we'll see how much I get done before baby arrives!

Pluma Luma

Yeah, I know you don't know what that is.

I didn't either until RE explained it to me.

"Mom, Kimmie's (the imaginary friend) family has a new name."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. They're the Pluma Luma family now."
"Oookkkaaaay. And what is Pluma Luma?"
"Well, it's pink and purple and blue and white all mixed together and swirly."
"Cool, kiddo."

And that is now her favorite color.


This is what pluma luma looks like. On a VW Bug. Which is what Kimmie drives, because Kimmie is 22. Or somedays, she's 26. And somedays, she's 40, which RE knows is older than mommy, thus older than God!

She's got a wild imagination...and we love it. The things she comes up with sometimes just amaze us. She's also created some really elaborate directions to get to Kimmie's house in the woods, and has even drawn maps to it. It usually involves driving up there, around here, past the forest, over the river, around some rocks, and then, you're there! Kimmie lives in the mountains where it snows, you see.

She's also WAY into Barbies right now. And yes, I love it. Though I think she has more than I did at any point in my Barbie collecting days. The girl's got quite the collection. My favorite one? The one she calls "Holiday Hooker Barbie". It's the Target Holiday Barbie, and well, she looked like a hooker. So, when she unwrapped her, that was my first, uncensored reaction (I know, the verbal diarrhea has to end at some point). And that is now how she refers to that particular Barbie. Whoops.

Her best buddy, Wesley, got her a pink convertible Barbie car for her birthday...BIG HIT! It's quite possibly her favorite birthday thing. Barbie drives everywhere, with her seatbelt. She's also going to get a KEXP sticker on the back, because, well, KEXP is awesome. And I have to "cool" the car up a bit.

And of course, she's super excited to be a big sister. She runs up to my belly and gives big hugs, and tells me that this hug is for the baby, as she wraps her arms around literally, just the belly! Her sibling class is next week, with the infamous Penny Simkin and I, for one, can't wait. I know Ryan will love the class, and I know she'll love being a big sister. Though she has decided that should we give birth to a little brother, we should name it Poopy. Michael and I are thinking that's a NO. If it's a girl, she thinks we ought to call her Talleigh Rock Star. Yeah, we'll see.

And, she's four...

Wow. Do we really have a four year old? I know we have a new one on the way, but I still can't believe that my first baby is 4 (or that my dog is almost 7). She's an amazing, funny, passionate, imaginative, surly little thing, and for all her challenges, I wouldn't trade her for the world. I've been grading some papers lately, and the high school seniors were asked to write about what love is. Their definitions, though they certainly evoked memories, focused solely on the only thing they can even fathom: romantic love.

What they don't know, the big secret, is that as amazing as it is to find another person to love, and be loved by, your soul mate, or whatever you call it, is that the love a parent has for a child is even more amazing. And the love one develops for the partner who helps you create that child is so much stronger than it could have been without. A parent will truly step in front of a train for their child. Give up nearly everything for that child...make changes she never thought she'd make, and become a person she never knew she could. I have grown so much as a person in the last four years...I barely recognize myself (this is a good thing). Much as I'm always changing and evolving, I feel like I really know myself, who I am, and what I want to be when I grow up someday.

An amazing role model for an amazing girl (and her equally amazing little sibling to come).

And so, Peanut, mama loves you...more than you'll know until you have babies someday. Happy Birthday little one.

Holiday recap

The holidays, were, as always for us, a blur. I keep trying to find a way to capture some semblance of slow in a season that seems to thrive on fast, but so far, I've had little success. Between being pregnant (and getting ever moreso with each day), planning for travel, and trying to make most of our holiday gifts, there seemed little time or energy left to enjoy the quiet.

But we made it, we've survived, and as I type, I sit in my parent's living room, thinking about how strange it is to be back "home" when it's not really home anymore. I miss being home. I miss being home for Christmas. It's been lovely to spend the holiday with my family, but it's been hectic.

It all started with the plane ride, always a highlight for Peanut. Though I think she likes the idea of flying much more than being trapped on a plane! The next day, we had pictures taken with the ever fabulous Lori of Images by Lori. If you live in Pleasanton, or anywhere in the Bay Area, really, go see her next time you need family shots, kid shots, belly shots, baby shots, etc. She's truly, truly amazing. Ryan was a grump, but Lori still managed to get some great shots of her, and not only did we get fantastic belly pictures, but Ryan's 4 year pictures as well (it's only a month shy).

Wednesday we went to the Nutcracker in San Francisco. Amazing, as I suspected it would be...the dancers are phenomenal, choreography to die for and costumes were amazing. Ryan, unfortunately, was a little bored. I misjudged her abilities to sit through things like that, plus we met up with Uncle Mike and Aunt Allison as we were going into the show, so I think she was just super excited to see them and had a really hard time sitting still. She ended up dancing in her seat area for most of the show, humming along to the music. Each time a song came out that she recognized, she's whisper-shout "Nutcracker music!". She was also disappointed that she wasn't going to be onstage. I'm not sure how, but she was under the impression that she was going to be on stage in her fancy dress. Maybe in a few years...If I take her again next year, it will probably have to be a children's performance, or at least something a lot less pricey!! Traffic was awful coming home, and Ryan cried for about 40 minutes on the way home. WAY out of character for her...she's usually so easy going. We survived though, and she stayed up far too late playing with her Aunt and Uncle.

We did Christmas Eve as our big food/present day, and had a blast. Michael and I took over the kitchen, and cooked up quite a meal. Mike and Allison brought a fantastic butternut squash soup along with an apple crisp dessert, and helped us in the kitchen. The four of us had a great time, and it was another opportunity for Michael and I to spend a little more time with our sis-in-law. We're so glad she chose to join our crazy family...

Ryan loved opening presents from everyone, including the highlight of the day, her new bike from her Aunt and Uncle! The bike is awesome, and she loves riding it. It's a big girl bike, 2 wheels with training wheels, and we're still working on a plan to get it back to Seattle.

Christmas Day we all crept downstairs to see if Santa had in fact come to Nonna and Papa's house...he did!! Mommy and daddy are mean, and made her wait for us to brew coffee before we'd let her open anything, but she was patient. And as she was slowly opening her gift, she was telling Nonna and Papa all about how she asked Santa for a cash register and she realized what she was opening. She got SO excited, shouting that Santa did get her letter, and did bring her what she'd asked for and it was so cool and Santa is so cool, etc, etc, etc. It was sweet to see her so excited about all of it. She's at such a cool age for all of this. She got lots of other fun gifts from Nonna and Papa, and mommy and daddy. She also enjoyed handing presents around to everyone else.

This morning, we headed over to Vic's in Ptown for a fantastic breakfast. Standard issue eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast and yum, was it good stuff! We'll be heading back tomorrow for brekkie with a crew of old friends, some of whom we haven't seen in ages. We love how we can connect with this group, and it's like no time has passed, and yet we all mesh seamlessly into one another lives, still. We're older, chubbier, have kids now (or don't, and to be fair, some are thinner), and yet, are still entirely relevant to one another. It's really astonishing to see how connected we've stayed over the years.

And in the end, it's that connectedness that makes the holidays what they should be. Whether busy, slow, mellow or crazy, connecting with friends and family is what it's all about.

Fall is here...

Summer's been busy, and blogging's been slow, but I'm hoping that a slowdown in activity of late, and a general love for fall will spark my interest in writing again. Plus, for those who don't know, I'm knocked up, and being knocked up gives me something new to write about. How knocked up am I? About 15 weeks...so no, not quite in Puerto Rico, this one is a post-vacay baby (wink, wink).

So, the haps on the pregnancy...so far, so good. Baby's doing well, mama's surviving, despite the inability to nap whenever I feel like it, or to eat whenever I feel like it. That's probably the biggest difference between this one and the last. I'm exhausted, as I was when I was pregnant with RE, but I can't just crash on the couch whenever I feel like it. I've got another human to attend to (or two, depending on the day). I also can't eat strange food whenever I want, simply because it's not as easy to get at strange food at all times of day or night, and Michael is much less amenable to driving around at 10pm looking for Frosties and grapefruit. Apparently he thinks I'll survive (doesn't he know?).

This birth will happen at Puget Sound Birth Center, under the care of midwives, and hopefully using HypnoBabies techniques to stay calm and collected during contractions. I'm hoping for, but not betting on a quick labor (only because Ryan was)...and trying to not get my hopes up. I'm also not getting my hopes up for an early baby again. Really, what are the odds? I'm excited to give birth with fewer (no?) interventions, and to really find a way to trust that my body can do this (it's done it before). I'm also looking forward to experiencing another birth...I'm sure that sounds strange to many, but for someone like me, who's life's work is now teaching about and supporting a physiological childbirth, I'm looking forward to experiencing one. I'm also, of course, looking forward to a new squishy, snuggly newborn in the house, and though I know it'll be challenging, I can't wait to sling a newborn again, nurse a newborn again, and just generally snuggle with a tiny. Ryan's also really excited to be a big sister, and thinks it's a girl (or just really wants it to be). We won't be finding out at the ultrasound this time, so we'll find out in March/April!! Also looking forward to that surprise, and experiencing that differently too.

Fall always brings change, and with that this blog will not only be about our family, and all the crazy that is us, but also about my crafts and sewing. I was trying to run them separately, but it just ain't happening, because, well, I can't separate one from the other! Crafting is life, sewing is life, and family is life, and they don't easily come apart. So look for fun crafty stuff and ideas on this blog going forward.

I owe First Day of School Pictures!

She had a fantastic day...loves preschool. She asks almost every night if the next day is "preschool day" and she can't wait to keep going back. She thoroughly enjoys playing with whatever messy art project is available for the day, and every morning, heads straight to the little table with the "flubber" (weird gluey/playdough-ish contcoction) to play for a bit before moving onto what's next. Each day, when she gets in the car, the first thing she tells me about school is what they've had for snack. Day one: goldfish. Day two: graham crackers. Apparently, preschool is pretty awesome because they have good snacks. Sometimes she'll tell me more, sometimes not. Usually it'll come out as the day progresses. I think it's a lot for her to process all at once and she needs some quiet time to reflect on her day.

What I find fascinating about the whole thing is that this is the beginning of my little girls' school career. She's three and a half, and will be in school for the next 15 years. FIFTEEN! And of course, this has me thinking about the state of public schools, and how we, as parents, will be able to help her succeed despite what's happening in the schools these days (maybe by the time she gets to high school, a "D" will no longer be considered passing). It's a lot to process, and though it seems as though we have tons of time, we don't. Kindergarten is a mere 2 years away, and as is the truth in parenting, the days are long but the years are short.

And for those who were wondering, despite my insane pregnancy hormones, I DID NOT cry on the first day of school (or the second, or the third). Really, Ryan and I were both very ready for this, and I've been enjoying my quiet time to get things done as much as she's enjoying the time to learn and play with other kids her age.

A new coat for Peanut

In honor of the fall weather that's trying SO hard to creep into our lives (I'm welcoming it, but apparently I'm the only one), I whipped up a quick little coat for RE. Well, actually, this is a practice run, made from some totally adorable $1/yd IKEA fabric. The REAL coat will come soon, made from some fabulous loden green vintage wool given to me by my granny, but I wanted to try the pattern first on some less important fabric.

I've been trying hard to muster up energy these days (many of you know I'm a little bit knocked up at this point), and today, thanks to a lovely nights sleep and an at-home-husband, I found it!

RE loved it, which is always a bonus...I love that she's still of an age where she likes that I can make her things. I know that someday this will go away (maybe not though) and I'm enjoying and taking advantage of it while I can!

And, a nod to that summer weather that just won't quit:

RE's last ballet class

The days of my daughter being a ballerina are on hold for now. Her second series of classes ended today, and seeing that preschool starts in 3 weeks (OMG!!), we're putting ballet on hold for now. I don't think it's going to derail her chances of joining PNB.

On the last class of each series, the parents are invited in to watch. We normally have a 6"x3' window in the door to watch through, and this is a good thing. The girls are less distracted, and actually pay attention to the teacher. When we're in there, all hell breaks loose and it's like herding cats in tutus.

I don't think she'll miss it...and if she does, we'll look into trying it again. She enjoys it, and shows me the things she does in class, but I think she may be more of a tap girl than a ballerina. We'll see!

Ryan and her little pals, Clara and Caroline (which sometimes turns into "Claraline).

The things she says...

Are really going to get me in trouble some day. Really.

Ryan went over to a friends house the other day to play while I did baby carrier demos. They were having their carpets cleaned, and so all the furniture was on their small strips of wood in between carpeted areas.

Ryan walks upstairs, see the furniture in disarray, and says, "Holy Shit! Your furniture is all messed up!"

Now, this ought not come as a surprise to those who know me well. I swear like a drunk sailor, and though I try to keep it down, it keeps bubbling up, like a gross belch. It's only fitting that my child would choose to use this word as a exclamation. Part of me is so proud that she used it correctly, and of course, part of me is horrified, thinking we may HAVE to homeschool her due to her choice turns of phrase not being entirely kosher at preschool.

Maybe I ought to try to stop swearing? Ahhhh, shit. I already have one resolution for the year.

Maybe next year.