Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
gave him the scissors and let him go to town.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
I get 2 diapers, a fresh bottle, and both girls; we head upstairs.
The first stop is the girl's room. Violet picks out her jammies...she insists on matching sets. No rainbow shirt with heart shorts...both pieces must match in order to avoid a tantrum. Carli gets a cotton, stretchy romper...usually the same brand every night, as we have only find two places that make them to fit my girls properly. Carli has followed her sister's lead in (thankfully) obtaining her father's tall, slightly gangly, thin, muscular body. Though well fed, the girl's have narrow hips and no butts to speak of. So it is hard to fit her into clothes that are made for babies who are generally shorter and rounder.
We change butts and climb into our jammies in the girl's room; however, we don't sleep there, as Jason is still trying to assemble Carli's crib, and the room currently contains a rickety crib, nails, screw, and tools. And Violet likes to explore when she should be sleeping.
Violet brushes her teeth while I get Carli into her swaddle...she will sleep without it, but not as soundly. I climb into my jammies, which definitely do not have to match, and rarely do. Violet finishes with her teeth, bangs her Diego brush on the sink twice, and puts it in the drawer. She then climbs up into the middle of my bed, beside her dad, who has been sleeping for about 7 hours at that point. Jason grunts and rolls over slightly.
I stick a Christmas movie into the PS3 (Violet demands Christmas and nothing else). I start the movie, grab Carli, and settle into the left side of the bed. I hold my second-born and feed her the final bottle of the night as my first-born lays on her father's chest, and chatters quietly about the movie.
After about 10 minutes, Carli loses suction on her bottle. She stares at my face under hooded eyes, and smiles lazily at me...dimples flashing and soy milk formula drizzling out of the corner of her mouth. I give her one last kiss and lay her in her bassinet.
Violet abandons her father, and curls up to me. She tries to stay awake, at least until the Jack-In-the-Box scene in Elf, before her head tilts towards the headboard, her mouth drops open, and her eyes close. She plays hard, so she sleeps hard as well...one can move her all over the bed without waking her; this is useful, as she thinks the whole bed is her territory.
I lay there with my girls, maybe reading, maybe watching the movie, until 10:15 comes. Then is time to wake Jason for work, to go make his lunch, to straighten the living room for the day and start the dishwasher. A few minutes of sleepy chat, then he is off to work the night away.
Then, the evening is mine. For cruising the Internet, for watching late night t.v., for reading the books Violet helps me pick out on our weekly library trip.
But more often than not, I head back up the stairs and pass out in between my lovely, sleepy girls.
Friday, May 8, 2009
The (belated) 3 Month Post [see also Months 1 and ...okay, okay, I haven't done those and I truly stink at this keep-track-of-your-baby's-milestones]
God knew I needed a good baby.
Your sister can be a bit of a handful. Lovely and smart and wonderful, but stubborn and fiercely independent. But you even help with this...she loves to hug you and make you smile. She wants you, her 'baby stister', to be happy all the time.
And you usually comply.
You have laughed in your sleep from the time you were a few weeks old, your mouth wide open and dimples flashing. Now, you laugh even more when you are awake: when your poppie, my dad, blows on your belly; when your Auntie Mandie makes funny noises at you; when you see your baba, my mom. You are truly surrounded by people who love and dote on you, and you know it. Very rarely are you not wholy content.
And the sleeping...the sleeping through the night...oh my oh my, I never would have guessed. I spent the first year of your sister's life only having a full night's sleep a handful of times. But you, my angel...you go to sleep about 10:30, just as your dad is getting ready to leave for work, and you stay that way until 7 or so the next morning. I don't think you will realize how very grateful I am for that until you have a child of your own.
You have your issues, of course...there are times when you will only be held...mainly when I am trying to clean or cook...resulting in a slightly messy house and some really awful meals, meals that your dad will eat only until his hunger has been relieved, then push away. I wanted to cry the first time it happened, but now, it just makes us laugh.
But you are overall and so completely one of the best babies I have ever seen. You are so truly content and sweet, wanting only a smile or kiss to make you happy. I pray everyday that you keep this personality you have been blessed with.
As for your milestones...I have been taking things a lot easier with you. With your sister, I scoured websites and magazines and doctor's brochures to make sure she was on target (ok, to make sure she was advanced). With you...I am just letting you set your own pace. You hold up your head, and you look people in the eyes. You are trying to sit up on your own, and have rolled onto your belly 3 times...onto your side, many more, but you can't always figure out what to do with your arms. You have teeth buds above where your canines will be, and the infernal, incessant drooling has begun. Your favourite thing is to be held in a standing position, and you will stay like that until whoever you charmed into holding you cramps up. You jabber, especially just after you wake, and it starts off my day with insane happiness. And you have this look on your face all the time, this look that is part surprise, part happiness, and part pure, unaltered sweetness.
I adore you, baby girl.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
okay, okay, okay! this means someone I don't know is actually reading my blog! Validation!
seriously, I am a little too excited about this.
now i must dissect.
1. Calorie Free food is NOT food.
DUR! The point of no-cal or lo-cal coffee is so I CAN have oatmeal or a protein shake or bran flakes...something with a load of fiber and some protein thrown in.
2. Sugar-free sweetener is poison.
I use Splenda or Stevia...I am not pouring aspartame on my food here, people.
3. Processed foods are full of trans fats and chemical preservatives = more poison.
1 microwave pizza containing no trans fats? I think I'll be ok.
4. Microwaved food is stripped of its nutrients.
see above. also, the locally grown carrots and tomatoes we ate with it were not stripped of their nutrients.
5. Diet Coke = Aspartame = bigtime poison.
Diet Coke with Splenda=Splenda=haHAAAA!
6. Popcorn is genetically modified; I won't call it poison but I don't trust it either.
Seriously? you must have a ton of fun at the movies.
Summation: You are starving yourself to death, even while struggling to keep your weight down. This is the irony of the "SAD" (Standard American Diet). You get fat and malnourished at the same time. Eventually some virus or germ comes along and your body won't be able to fight it because your natural resistance will be depleted. The best thing you ate yesterday was the chocolate. - assuming you don't have diabetes (yet). I hope you feed your kids better than you feed yourself.
I SERIOUSLY doubt I am starving.
I take a multivitamin every day. If you look through our cupboards, you will find whole grain-high fiber bread. 100% Mango and Tangerine Juice. Organic, locally grown produce...apples and oranges and bananas, carrots and cabbage and squash and celery, at the moment. Nothing containing trans fats or high fructose corn syrup, even though that means my grocery shopping takes longer.
My daughter gets cookies and ice cream, and yes, even occasionally soda. Not every day, but i firmly believe a child deserves treats. But she is just as likely to ask for carrots or bananas. She eats gumbo and curry and stir fry and sushi and her favourite thing in the world is a burrito. How many 3 year old's have a palate that varied?
But as far as the whole tone of your comment, Miss(ter) Anonymous, I believe you may have missed an important point in my post.
Yesterday, I FAILED at eating. The fact is some days, it is incredibly difficult to eat appropriately. I knew I made bad food decisions. But I made an oath to be honest about my journey here. And I will continue to be. Even when it includes *gasp!* microwave pizza.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
see, it is not about how i look. frankly, i think i look pretty fab as i am. and my delightful husband loves me no matter what my size.
Right now, that size is 22.
I am a big girl; it runs in my family. As does flirting and laughing loud.
And diabetes. Arthritis. Heart Disease.
Already, my knees creak when it is going to rain. My shoulder becomes immobile if I hold Carli for too long in the same position. I have to have extra cushioning on my bed, because the extra weight puts too much pressure on my bones otherwise.
Since becoming a Stay at Home mom, my fitness has gone downhill. I get winded going up the stairs. I tire way to easily. I sweat (though delicately and in a lady-like fashion) WAY too much.
So I have been trying causually make changes. Slimfast, walks while pushing the double stroller.
I have a weakness for leftovers, as in I will devour the entire amount of leftovers from last night along with my morning shake.
I talk myself out of the girls' daily walks...'oh, we are running low on time, we'll drive to the park this time.'
So I need accountability.
My hope, along with many others who have tried this method, is that by publishing my struggles, by being honest with what is going on under my (adorable) clothes, I will stay on a more straight path.
so...here we go.
April 27th, 2009
Bring on the diet and exercise.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
But for days, weeks after she was born, I was fairly certain I had made a huge mistake.
I didn't know how to pay attention to Violet while I was feeding my newborn. I hated telling her I couldn't do something because her sister needed me more. And the crying...oh, the crying. Even with a good-natured baby like Carli, who giggles in her sleep and wakes up thrilled to see you...there is crying. There is middle-of-the-night screeching for a bottle, there is wailing for a wet diaper, there is caterwauling because she knocked her binky out of her mouth again. Violet had been talking for so long that I had forgotten how to deal with a child who can't communicate. And her crying turned into my sobbing in the middle of the night, begging Jason to wake up and hold her so I can sleep for 20 minutes.
I retreated to bed. Carli and I stayed in bed all day, leaving only to pee or grab a snack...though not often-my appetite was gone. I stared at the TV, I breastfed when Carli was hungry, I changed her diaper, then I fell asleep again. The two of us were averaging 20 hours a day.
Thank God, Jason was home on leave. He cared for Violet during my dark days, he made me take my meds. He asked me whether this was a leave-me-alone cry or a hold-me cry. Because I was crying between every nap.
Returning to my full dosage of meds helped, but only barely. I was still awash in a fog of sadness. After many many long, boring conversations about our options, Jason and I decided to wean off breastfeeding. The (imagined) guilt of taking meds while feeding my girl combined with the flood of hormones required to create the milk on top of the pressure of being the only person responsible for the well-being of my precious new cargo was crushing me.
I realize my choice is controversial. Many women actually experience a decrease in PPD while breastfeeding. Many women feel they cannot bond properly if they formula feed. I just know that this was the right choice for us.
But this is not about breastfeeding. This is about emerging from the cave of my PPD.
It was not immediate. There was a large measure of faking it till I made it. Everyday, I told myself I was a wonderful mother who knew what was best for my child(ren). Everyday, I told myself I was a good wife, that Jason hadn't made a mistake marrying me. And eventually I began to believe myself.
Today, I was on my way to the grocery store. Jason was home with the girls; his new job is a night job that allows us to see him during the days. I thought of how I had left them: Carli on her play mat, Jason and Violet on either side of her, trying to teach her to kick the toys. Carli was grinning, Jason and Vi laughing. And I realized I have everything I could ever want for. Our life is not perfect, and I make mistakes every single day. I won't be happy every day, and there will be times I will forget that moment of clarity.
But today, for about 15 minutes, I was deliriously happy.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
And as a proud big sister, she has a clear favourite when it comes to subjects.