Thursday, July 21, 2011

Time Marches On

Oh, goodness. Could it really have been three months since my last post? Wow.

The husband and I regularly congratulate ourselves on our beautiful children. I am falling harder and harder for this boy. Even though he seems to have given up on sleeping through the night (he did it for about two months, and then stopped. What's up with that?), I just really really dig living with an almost-eight-month-old. So freaking funny.

Talk to me next week when he's crawling and getting into everything to see if I still feel that way, but I spend a portion of every day swooning over his adorableness.

And the girl! She's just so - TWO. And it's great, how funny and fun a two-year-old can be. She sings songs, tells jokes, and has started with the imagination explosion and I'm digging it. So far this summer I've managed to have one day each week devoted to just Mama-Lucinda time. It's been fabulous - we go to story time at the library, maybe have lunch with Daddy, go home and take a nap, and maybe hit the grocery store or splash pad in there before we pick the boy up from school.

The past six summer weeks have been amazing and make me feel good about being a teacher - all of the stress of budget cuts and job changes over the spring had really gotten me to question the whole career change thing. But this time, this rhythm of staying home over the summer - it really seems like the best of both worlds right now. I am starting to get excited about the school year and teaching fourth grade (next month! ACK!). Scared about being full time, but I think we can make the adjustment. Though I will really miss lazy summer days with a baby and toddler. I should really be cherishing this summer, shouldn't I?

Anyway - things are good, even though I'm not getting as much sleep as I need, and the baby won't eat solids, and I wonder about my milk supply, and I think I use a harsh tone with the toddler more often than I would like, and I could stand to lose this 15 pounds, and and and. Mostly I need to remember that things are really good.

Sunday, April 24, 2011


I checked into Facebook late this afternoon for the first time this weekend, really. We had a good weekend - these pics are from dinner tonight, Easter Sunday.

Things were busy. Friday the kids were off from school, but K was still working. So I got the solo parent of two kids quality time in. Man, I am spoiled - I don't have to do that any more than 2ish hours a day, generally. But I felt quite the glow of accomplishment that I got them both fed and down for naps before K got home at 1:15, having bagged the rest of the day at work.

Late that afternoon we had some peeps over for a playdate and then takeout dinner. Wine-thirty came a bit earlier than usual, but it was Friday for the love of all that is holy (literally) and It Was Good. As I stumbled into bed that night, reflecting on the fact that there were two more full days ahead, I felt tired already.

Saturday was lovely - started with a great egg hunt at Casa de Boxingoctopus, and ended with a trip to Central Market and then K grilling dinner for us (is that illegal now? Do burn bans count in the city? These are things I should probably know) as I started in on the copy of The Help that Melanie had loaned me that morning. Ugh - she was right - I got to bed after 1:30am, but I've already finished it (now that it's Sunday night).

As we were heading home from a good (though crowded) CM trip, I said out loud what had only just occurred to me: that it was April 23rd. Which meant that the busy Saturday that started with an egg hunt and ended with dinner grilled on the patio - a good day, but not out of the ordinary - was four years since we lost our son.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately. Thinking about how to tell Lucinda and Wesley that they would have had a brother. As I was watching Wes this week, seeing him becoming a five-month-old (my favorite sort of baby) I thought about RP. I thought about the fact that Wes is not him, that he would have been a different person. But because he was gone before he was born, I will never know him as a person. He will always be the idea of a baby for me, in a lot of ways. Because babies grow, and constantly change. Lucinda was an idea, then she was a baby, then a toddler, and I feel like she is morphing into a little girl now. I can see Wesley doing the same - and it fascinates me (when I'm not being anxious about the specifics) how he can develop so quickly, change so much from week to week.

RP is a constant. As much as his life and death shaped me, our family - as my own emotions develop and settle and I try to figure out how to live and who to be, he is not changing. And I am still deeply sad about that.

Anyway this all started because my mother posted the following on her Facebook page yesterday: "This week we remember all babies born sleeping, or whom we've carried but never met, or those we've held but couldn't take home, or the ones that came home but didn't stay. Make this your profile status if you or someone you know has suffered the loss of a baby. In memory of all angels too perfect to forget."

And I can't post that on Facebook. Not everyone I know (or am "friends" with on Facebook) knows this about me, believe it or not. I don't always know what to say and I can't figure out how to be graceful about it and it's complicated. I know that this blog is on the internet for the world to see, but I still feel like it is my diary in a lot of ways. I still don't know what to think when I realize that people have read it. But I remember every day that my first baby was born sleeping, that I carried him but didn't really meet him, that I held him but couldn't take him home. And it still fucking sucks, even on good days filled with family fun.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Put Your Left Foot In

I expressed a concern recently to my friend The Boxing Octopus that I have a touch of the postpartum depression. (You know, like how that one guy you dated had a touch of Asperger's?) Because on some days, things is hard. And I get a little weepy still, sometimes unexpectedly.

And I know that PPD isn't something to mess around with - and I THINK, most of the time, that I'm not really depressed. I think I'm in the midst of what one might call a tough time. What with the youngest child who is not as easy a baby as his big sister. The screaming, people! The screaming! If he were my first baby to be responsible for toting around, we would not leave the house much. Because the boy HATES the car seat.

Unfortunately for him (and my ears! my ears!) this family is now a train - it's moving, and he just has to get on. I have a job now (precarious though it may be), he has a big sister who has places. to. go, and we've got to keep things going. Plenty of screaming, is what I am saying.

Speaking of the sister - have I mentioned that she's two? She is two. So there is screaming that comes with that, too. Mostly sweet and loving with her sister, often sweet and loving with her parents, sometimes scream and kicky.

And dairy - I am still off the dairy (to help with aforesaid screaming) and do y'all know how I feel about cheese? Here's how: I LOVE IT AND WANT MORE. No dairy sucks. Nursing this little boy has not been as easy as it was for his big sister - he had a hard time figuring things out at first, and there have been some supply issues (both over- and under-) and I have to pump every day which isn't really something I enjoy. Sitting in the bathroom, playing Angry Birds on my phone and constantly checking my watch because I have to pick up students in 20 min? Great for the old milk supply, let me tell you!

And the job - precarious as noted. Thank you Republican majority! You hate children and the people who teach them, I guess. I now know that I will not have the current ideal job next year. I may have another, full-time job. It may or may not be one that I really want. I have to wait and see on that one.

All of this to say, tough time. Oh yeah, and the pinkeye. BUT - there's this. Screw the Hokey Pokey:

THAT's what it's all about.

Tuesday, April 05, 2011

Birthday Parties

A friend told me not too long ago that soon enough all of my weekends will be taken up with birthday parties. Though I don't look forward to those days, I do enjoy the occasional toddler bash these days.

This past Saturday was a good one - it was for a family friend's third (of four!) child. Our fathers were best friends in college, and we went to college together too. And now we both live in Austin and have young kids - circle of life? Anyway, my mom was in town and was eager to see the youngest addition (she is Aunt Suzanne to them) and so we dressed Lucinda in a preppy little dress, put Wes in a polo romper thingie, and headed over to West Austin (where life is good and neighborhood associations are serious business).

It was by no means an extravagant party - just kolaches and coffee for the adults and cake for the kids. A cooler with juice boxes and a bloody mary station were found in the kitchen. A balloon artist showed up and hung out making poodles, swords, inchworms, and a huge palm tree with a monkey climbing up the trunk. All around, a good time was had by all. There was one unfortunate moment where the dad walked in on me nursing Wes, but I shall gloss over that part. Let's just say - if you aren't comfortable, I'm not comfortable!

Of course there are no pictures - my bad blogger status is already established, right? But later that afternoon we had a play date with another friend that I've known since what can basically be considered childhood at this point, and we broke out the birthday party treat bags. Because they contained cool bubbles.

Um, not so cool, it turns out! It rained yesterday but there are still stains on our patio. Luckily, the girls thoroughly enjoyed the clean-up-in-a-bucket method that K improvised. In face, Lucinda ran outside yesterday yelling "I wanna dunk my feet!"

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Aye, It's Pink

Will I ever be able to resist the punny post title?

So I was in my bed this afternoon, nursing the babe (I wanted to say "laying in my bed" there, but I will never be sure whether lay or lie is grammatically correct in any given situation, so I avoid it) and I thought about posting again. Well, for the most part while I nursed I was maintaining a constant awareness of the goop and pressure level of my left eye. Because the swelling and gooping are pretty significant, but changing regularly. And I have a difficult time considering anything other than the state of my pink left eye.

See it here, but know that this is different than that one time I THOUGHT I had pink eye but didn't. (it was allergies) Holler if you remember that, because it was a LONG ASS TIME AGO.

Anyway, I was thinking about posting several things and wondering why I even have a blog any more. It's kind of like it is a habit, but it isn't really a habit at all, is it? Once upon a time I used it to post photos of my cute kid, so I guess I'll continue in that vein:

Big girl panties are fun, but not more enjoyable than diapers in case you were wondering. If you would like me to write here more often, I guess tell your legislator: there's a good chance I'll be out of a job soon if the current budget is passed!