Crush

Ryan has her first crush. On a boy. Not one that she's grown up with and that feels, probably, more like a sibling.

It's sweet. And adorable. She can't stop talking about Tyler, and how she plays with him at school, and sits by him during "first circle, and snack, and second circle. THREE times, mama" and plays with him outside.

As she was babbling away in the backseat (Tyler this and Tyler that), it hit me. This is just the beginning. This is just her first crush. Someday, she'll be older, and have another crush, and she'll feel those butterflies in her tummy when he walks by. And someday after that, she'll be even older, and he'll break her heart. And yes, this is what I think about as I'm driving to preschool, listening to showtunes in the car. He'll break her heart, and I'll think back to Tyler. The sweet little boy she had her first crush on.

A girl never forgets her first crush. Just like she never forgets her first love. And her first heartbreak. I could tell you all their names, but I won't.
And she never, ever, forgets her true love. If she's really lucky, she'll get to marry that boy.
And live happily ever after (more or less) with him.
And he'll love her.
And she'll love him.

I love you Michael. Happy Anniversary. Thank you for six amazing years of marriage. For holding my hand, for letting me hold yours. For catching my baby, for holding my babies, for helping make these amazing girls of ours. For helping to make our house truly a home.

We've Moved!

No, not a new house. Just a new home on the WWW.

www.repeanut.wordpress.com

Come, join us. It's just as fun over there.

Katy

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.

Reflections...

Lately I've been spending a lot of time reflecting: on who I am, what I love, and what I might like to do with my life (well, our lives, really). Nursing a newborn gives a mama A LOT of time for retrospection.

These thoughts, as of right now, are quite incomplete, and just a jumble of ideas all over the place. Mama's plotting and planning, and trying not to get too far ahead of myself. Six weeks post partum is rarely a good time to make clear decisions about anything.

In the meantime, I'm really enjoying my new camera (have I mentioned that yet? Cause I really love it.). I've taken a few pictures of myself reflected in various windows lately, and I think I might have started something. Mama and her girls, reflected in the window of a Seattle Underwater exhibit at the Aquarium, gave me pause. It is, in a sense, us, reflected in our home. Or maybe it's our home reflected in us. Which is why I dig reflections, and the circular logic it requires to comprehend them. And why, out of all the thinking and reflecting I've been doing lately, I've got nothing but a jumble of thoughts.

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.

A few completed projects.

The shirt I made for myself...so I'll have something pretty to wear after the baby arrives. Ryan loved the fabrics so much she asked for a dress made of it, so we'll try to get that happening for her soon.

I'm often asked what Ryan does while I sew...she plays with thread, fabric, scissors, pins, etc. She loves it, and I love that it's introducing her to sewing at an early age!

Used to be a wrap, now it's a few blankets, hats, and even a pair of pants! And it's the yummiest, softest knit. Love Wrapsody wraps!!

 
And the cute dress I whipped up for Ryan out of some pre-smocked fabric. Love that stuff...and she loves the dress.

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.