Valentines Day - Pre & Post Kidletts

A Pre-Kidletts Valentines Day Story:

Husband wakes up wife with kisses and a morning romp.
Whispers and promises of more fun to come later.
A sweet ado, and off to work he goes.
Wife spends the afternoon doing whatever the heck she wants and, most importantly, getting ready.
And when pre-kidlett Wife gets ready, she does it right.
Long hot shower, carefully shaved legs, lotion and perfume, curling the hair, curling the eyelashes, make up; the works. And of course, picking out that hot little number, most likely black. Black is slimming.

Husband arrives home from work with a bouquet of favorite flowers adorning his arm.
Husband is super pleased with the hotness of wife. Wife is pleased husband is pleased.
Some flirting, some kissing, and they leave on-time for their romantic dinner.
They drink wine and take long, slow bites, fully enjoying every piece of food that touches their lips.
They look lovingly and longingly into each others eyes. They whisper some more.
They return home, Husband carries Wife over the threshold, and...if you have any imagination at all, you know what comes next.

All in all, a perfect romantic evening.


Post-Kidletts Valentines Day Story:

Wake up bleary eyed from a long night with a newborn.
Husband says, 'I love you'. Bleary eyed Wife says 'Happy Valentines Day babe' and sticks a boob in the baby's mouth and falls back asleep.
Instead of a whisper waking her up she hears ' Mom!! MOM!!! MOOOOOOOOOOM!' thundering from her toddlers room.
She stumbles down the hallway, changes a massive poop diaper and totes toddler downstairs to watch Sesame Street. With both kids spoken for, she bolts into the shower.
Showered, dressed, make up & hair thrown back into a messy chignon in under 4 1/2 minutes.
Wife spends the afternoon changing diapers, nursing, and building skyscrapers with toddler and his blocks.
Husband texts Wife on the way home from the grocery store 'Got into an accident. That was fun.'
A few moments later Wife learns it was minor, Husband is fine and it wasn't his fault.
Wife breathes sigh of relief, then feeds toddler, toddler gets oatmeal everywhere, Wife bathes toddler. [What do you call a woman who bathes a kid and nurses at the same time? SuperWoman.]
Bleary eye and tired Husband arrives home mildly annoyed from the accident, with a slightly crushed single rose adorning his arm. Husband kisses wife, puts away groceries, opens a beer, takes baby from Wife's arms and sits on the couch.
After putting toddler to bed, Husband and Wife start cooking. It's 8 pm. Baby wakes up crying, Wife straps baby in the Moby. With baby finally asleep they finish cooking and sit down around 9 pm to a tasty and hot meal of filet mignon, risotto, and mozzarella caprese. Baby wakes up, of course, so Husband eats meal one handed while holding baby. Toddler rouses, and which parent went to soothe him; this story teller doesn't remember. Wife drinks wine too quickly.
Husband starts to say something romantic, when he is cut off by Wife. Not by her lips, or saying something romantic in return, but rather a fart. Wife had a baby 3 weeks prior and she doesn't have full control of her sphincter muscles yet.
Husband and Wife break into laughter. 'Were you going to say something romantic...and then...I farted???' she sputters in between laughs.
'Yes.'
'Well....let me finish your thought. All.....things.....considered........I  love....you.....aaaaand....?
'...this was a really nice evening.'
'I love you too. Welcome to life with children. Happy Valentines Day babe.
'Happy Valentines day love.'

Husband and wife crawl into bed, with baby, and with a quick kiss, they crash.
No romping for this tired, kidlett-clad couple. There's always next year.

[enlarged] in the waiting

The girl in my belly has grown a lot in this past month, and I am proof.
We have 2-3 weeks more of waiting before she arrives 'stateside' as I like to say.
The last bit of waiting is always the worst part, mostly because my body is so uncomfortable. But mentally...that's where the waiting messes me up. In the waiting imaginations run wild. The anticipation of the unknown is always more daunting than the actual unknown. I find that over and over again in my life. Because, when you're in it, you're just in it. You can face it. You can deal. When you are waiting to be in it, you only have fear to keep you company. And fear is a mean companion....I'd rather have a sweet snuggly newborn and an unpredictable toddler. At least I know I won't be bored! Haha.

Today I realized my 'baby' is actually nearly 2. This afternoon we moved him into his new room, his big-boy-room, it hit me that his sister, the-new-baby, will take his old place. I will admit, I cried. It's such a bizarre thought! I mean, for nine months I've thought about it...but it's so close I can taste it.

38 weeks. Her clothes are washed, the birth kit is stocked up and I have even picked out a few of my favorite clothes and scarves so I won't have to go hunting for them when it's labor time. And while we still have more to do in terms of being 'ready' like decorating and cleaning, our hearts are ready.

Come on baby girl, mama and daddy [and the rest of the world] want to meet you.

xoxoxox

paint speaks

I told a friend 'I am painting little miss's bureau tonight' and she asked me 'what color?' and I responded, 'I  don't know yet, I am making custom colors as I go' and she called me quite the 'arteeest'.
Flattering, but I kind of shied away from it. Why? Well, I didn't actually have a 'plan' of what I was going to create. For a perfectionist like moi, sometimes no plan is the best plan. Because if I know exactly what it is I want and can't active it, I am disappointed in myself *creatively*. I am my worst critic. So, instead, I make a point to throw out a plan and listen to the paint.  Paint speaks, and I strive to listen. When I dive into a project and just let my heart be open, and my options wide, I am able to create outside of my box. Go with the flow and throw fear out. Because there's nothing that white primer and 60 grit sand paper can't fit. That's how God feels to me. He speaks, and I try my best to listen with earnest. And I respond, and sometimes what happens in my heart is beautiful and inspiring. Sometimes I mess up and overdo it, and try too hard to make [or be] something perfect, or something that I have seen before. And that's when God steps in with the white out and we start over. He doesn't want us to be someone else, or do something that has been previously created and perfected. He wants to create something new in us, through us. Many beautiful scriptures describe being a new creation:
Ephesians 4:24 -And to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Ephesians 2:10 - For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Isaiah 65:17 - Behold, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, not will they come to mind.

See, white out. And the running theme, 'create something new'.

I love God. I don't think I say that enough on this little blog. But seriously, I do.  It so inspiring to serve a Creator that loves to create something new in me, every day. So friends, let's throw out fear of failure and mistakes and just let God create something new in us. Primer and sandpaper is always there.

preparing for 'D-day'

Every day, I try to remember to take a moment and think about Delivery day.

It's quickly approaching, at a mere 56 days according to my i-Phone ticker. So wether I'm late [heavens, please no, not again] I'm 'ripe' and ready, or even early [gasp! do I even entertain the thought?] time is ticking away. Tick...tick...ticking away. So today I prepared for birth by watching A Baby Story. I usually avoid it completely because as a home birthing mama, the hospital intervention/mantra completely stress me out. But today's episode was a home/water birth, and it was so real. She was in pain, for sure, but it was still peaceful. It was beautiful. She birthed her daughter in the water and pulled her up to her chest. 

AND I LOST IT. Bawling-my-eyes-out LOST IT. It made my heart swell up with overwhelming excitement and anticipation for MY moment. For that first moment when I get to hold my little baby girl in my arms. To finally see the life that I've been growing and dreaming about.  

I can say with all honesty I have about 98% confidence and peace in my heart when I think about labor.

So that leaves a mere 2% of me that is FREAKING out. 

Question for the mamas reading: how did/do you prepare for labor? The first time is so scary and unknown, so is the second[+] time easier because of having less to fear?

I welcome any encouraging advice, prayers and wisdom. I'd like to eradicate that 2% if at all possible ;)

Love, Yana   

[Re] fresh

I recently shared some fears about the next baby. There's something to be said about getting things off your chest, sharing, putting yourself out there...and with the right support team around you, there's no judgement or shame. Just encouragement. Love. Support. And that is the case for me. I am in a MUCH better place. My heart is refreshed. I'm thankful.

I am also thankful for......VACATION. Saturday my family and I are headed to Siesta Keys, FL for a week. This is our first vacation in over a year! My parents are joining us for 5 days too! I am so looking forward to some good QT time. It will be Rue's first trip to the beach (well, we took him to Hawaii when he was 5 months old, but that didn't count because then he was just eating the sand! Now we will be playing, building sand castles and searching for sea shells!) AND, it's my gorgeous mom's birthday! I see lots of laughs, delicious food, and fun in the future. And, 80 degree weather. HELLO. It snowed last weekend...so I'm thankful for some sunshine! 

I should go pack. But that would mean pausing this Grey's Anatomy rerun, getting up off this couch and out from under this warm blanket. 

Ain't gonna happen.

;)

featherweight

I blame Pennsylvania's soil; it's very fertile.

And apparently so, because all my best friends are pregnant! They are making the huge transition into new territory, another division completely. 1 to 2 kids = The Heavyweights.

As much as I hate to admit it, I am feeling a little left in the dust. I'm still a Lightweight. Is that strange? Is it immature to feel that way?

I should clarify that I am thrilled for them. I am. 100%. And I am not jealous in the slightest.

I am also not ready for number 2.

So what's my deal??? Is it that I want to relate to my peers?

This is what it is: Now that Rue is the most sweet, joyful, fun & full of life boy and not the crazy cryfest cranky mc crankster clawing miserable baby my overwhelming drive to NOT get pregnant must've gone down the drain with the rest of the bathwater. I had the devil's advocate on my shoulder saying 'how could you even consider another baby? Do you remember the last year? You bawled your eyes out for 3 months straight, and then you still weren't truly happy until month 7....' But now I have a baby-loving cherub on my other shoulder and the Jekyll-Hyde duo are duking.it.out.

I want another baby when the timing is right. So I'm praying. God knows my heart and where I am at. He knows what's good for me. I want to be content in all circumstances, like Paul in Philippians 4:11. '...for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have.' It's very possible that I have some weight to gain emotionally, so that in the future I can weigh in with the other heavy weights, physically. Like that metaphor? Yes, I do too.

Love, the featherweight mama

Good Mommy/Confessions of a new mom

The moment I found out I was pregnant I thought 'wow. I hope that I will be a good mom to this little baby!' I had a pretty strong idea of what a 'good' mom meant, and I had no idea I would be setting myself up for failure. 'Good' mom equated to = 'perfect'.

I had this idea that a good mom was: Effortless. Organic. Chic. On top her game. Co-slept. Wore her baby all the time. Cloth diapered. Breastfed. Never depressed. Never lost her temper. Made fresh home made baby food all the time. Stylish. Always showered, clean and wore makeup.

I quickly [and by quickly, I mean quickly] realized I had failed. It's easy to fail when you have unrealistic Mt. Kilimanjaro-sized expectations for yourself.

Yet I still struggled with myself. "Am I still a good mom if I run out of grace and lose my temper? Am I a bad mom if I leave Rue to cry in his crib after my bag of tricks to entertain/feed/clothe/distract gets emptied? Am totally lame that he has most likely eaten a cup of dirt/leaves/grass while I wasn't looking? Do good mom's let their kids suck all the ink off the tags from toys made in China???

The answer that I have come to 8 months later ? OF COURSE I'M A GOOD MOM. I'm a great mom. Webster's definition of good is : of a favorable character or tendency. Virtuous. Right. Commendable. Adequate. Suitable.

Some days I: lose my temper, forget deodorant, don't start dinner until 8 pm, leave dirty clothes to roast and stew for a week, let Rue eat grass, cry when I'm exasperated and wish someone would hold me and rock me to sleep.... but, I'm a good mom because I love good. I love hard. I adore my son. I do the best that I can and that's enough. I don't strive for perfection anymore, just the best version of myself. And who knows maybe someday Rue will adore me and think that I'm perfect, just like they way I looked at my mom when I was little. I don't think he's going to care that about any of the petty things that I beat myself up with.

If you are reading this and you can relate in any way, take heart. Go easy on yourself. I have read so many blogs that impacted me and really changed my view point, and I hope that I have done that for someone else today. Learn from my mistakes! Know that you are a GREAT mom no matter what. And for heaven's sake, let's omit the term 'good' mom and adopt being 'great', shall we??

I'm a perfectionist, and a wimp

It's true, I am a perfectionist. Not in the 'my house has to be spotless' way, but rather the 'expecting my self to be a perfect, crunchy, green, baby wearing, co-sleeping, cloth diapering, never a depressed thought perfect mom to the perfect baby who never cries & sleeps all the time. That's what I expected, it's not what I got. The last 3 months have been a nightmare.

I'm sure I sound extreme, but I feel I extreme. My little boy isn't a text book baby.

He has cried for 3 months. He has horrible gas that keeps him from sleeping and wakes him up when he does sleep. Nap time is a fight. He will take 1 out of 4 naps a day. Nights are just starting to get better. Breastfeeding started off great and somewhere along the line he wasn't gaining weight. I saw a lactation consultant for a month and we are back on track, but we have a lot of weight to gain before he's up to where he should be. The pediatrician suspects that his stomach can't handle the lactose and he's in pain. I have cut out dairy, but he's still unhappy. We might need to try a high-enzyme formula, which means I can't breastfeed for a while. I feel like I've failed.

That's where the wimp part comes in.

I've been too afraid to blog about this. About post-partum depression. About feelings of helplessness. Of frustration. Fear. Panic. Thoughts of 'what have I done to deserve this?' Feelings of anxiety. Despair. Failure. Expectation. I've been afraid of being judged by the mom's who have the perfect babies, and the perfect blogs to go with it. The mom's who's life looks like a fairy tale. I read their posts and cry, thinking...is their life really picture perfect like it seems? Or are they as unhappy as I am but aren't saying it?

So, I am finally saying it. This is really, really, stinkin hard. If you are one of those blessed mommies who's babies sleep well through the night, takes naps during the day, you have the time and energy to cloth diaper, you can paint your nails, eat square meals, have time to clean your house & cook dinner with out breaking a sweat, you. lucked. out. Don't take it for granted. There are other mommies out there who want to pull their hair out every day.

My life isn't perfect, and I don't want to post only the good stuff. I'm glad I finally grew a pair and shared this with you guys. This is a 'confessions of a new mom'.