Oh, Betsy-boo!

Oh Betsy Boo.  Your first year has been such a blessing.  And it is with such nostalgia that I think back on to your birth story.  You came in to this world with such anticipation, such eagerness, and such wonder.  The ten months in the making prior to your arrival were magical.  Every day brought a new promise, a new joy, and new joy-filled fear.  After nine months of watching you grow from a poppy seed into a watermelon, we were ready.  Oh, we were so ready.  Waiting each day, for your arrival.  Your sister came early, so surely, you would too.  But, you had your own way of proving, “I’ll be different.  I’ll be me.  I’ll be my own person.”  And that you did.

You knew how to grow inside my belly.  You were so good at that.  You were so good, in fact, that the doctor felt it was probably a good idea to come out on your due date.  Anything past that, may have made for an otherwise ginormous baby. So, we were patiently waiting for that October 2^nd induction date.  Thursday.  Not your due date, but a day early.  As those days passed by that week, your arrival became more real.  We washed the onesies. We set up the bassinet.   We waited.  We were anxiously waiting your birth, as we also anxiously and simultaneously waited for the completion of our home. October 2^nd.  A Thursday.  It was here- you were going to come! The hospital would call any minute with an open room for your delivery. We kept your sister home from school because she had a fever. Which, in hindsight, was God’s way of saying- take this time with her.  Enjoy your last minutes at a trio.  Because that was it.   But the minutes passed by and it was finally lunch time.  No phone call.  A quick phone call to the hospital would tell us that this was a busy day for having babies.  The hospital was full. And we had to wait.  So, that we did.

By 4 pm, there was still no phone call.  So, we took your sister to the park.  I remember sitting on the park bench, feeling your baby body turn and shift inside my huge belly.  I remember thinking, I wish this would happen, already.  I was ready.

We tucked your sister into bed that night, and I knew then, that that would be her last bedtime as an only child.  From this day forward, there would be two bedtimes.  Two bodies to bathe, two girls to get jammied up.

Friday morning arrived, and, as most typical pregnant nights previously experienced, I couldn’t sleep.  I was awake and showered by 5:30 that morning.  Boy, I was ready for your arrival.  I felt I could sleep more after you arrived since my pregnancy had been consisting of 1-2 hours of sleep intervals at best.  I walked downstairs in your Nanny and Papa’s house and I had just sat down with my first cup of coffee.  My phone rang.  They were ready.  Ready for us.  Ready for your arrival.  Your sister kissed you from the outside of my huge belly, and your daddy drove – very peacefully, actually- to the hospital.  We had surreal conversations in the car that morning of “can you believe she’s going to be here soon?” and several spoken and unspoken prayers for a peaceful delivery.  But ultimately, I was ready.  Waiting is hard.  Waiting for a baby is even harder.

I stopped to register, and the woman checking us in, asked why I was there.  Clearly, she didn’t’ see your large presence in my black top.  I laughed.  Quite comical that she could miss something so abnormally huge.  And again, the entrance was quite different from your sister’s rushed and chaotic arrival.  The process to register and check in took forever, it seemed.  We were so ready for you to come.  Finally, your daddy and I headed upstairs…

The nurse brought us to the room- and she did all of the “nurse” things.  But it was so calm.  So peaceful.  We were so aware.  It was like a slow motion movie.  And then she started the induction process.  Cervical gel.  Things picked up. The pain.  The bright lights from the room.  The contractions.  HGTV.  Seriously?  We were watching HGTV because at that point, we were still knee deep in a house remodel. After an hour, we went for a walk to the cafeteria to speed things up a bit.  Your daddy was so excited because of the food in the cafeteria.  He was excited to bring your mommy food.  Meanwhile, I was just focusing on the next contraction that was coming.  They were getting stronger.  So strong, that I had to lean on the cafeteria tables to help myself breathe.  As your daddy brought the second round of food, I suggested we head back up stairs after it was almost too hard to stand.  We made our way back upstairs, after what seemed like the longest elevator ride ever. Probably had visions of a baby delivery in the elevator prior to getting to the second floor.  After getting settled again in the room, the contractions were strong.  Every few minutes, and they were getting worse.  The Epidural came- but it slowed things down.  Unfortunately, however, it went straight to my right foot, but it still slowed the contractions down.  Not too effective anywhere else.  Your daddy had to hold my foot up, and it became quite the laughing source.  Lunch time rolled around, and we were now waiting- not much progress was happening.  They started Pitocin and nothing major happened.  Still waiting.  Your Nanny came in to cheer things along.  We had heard that my doctor would stop by, and when she did, she broke my water.  Within 20 minutes, you were headed down and out into the world.  As your Mimi, Aunt Sarah, and Gram came in, I started to push.  You were ready- and there was no stopping you.  Within about 5 pushes, you arrived.

You were 8 pounds, 13 ounces of squishy goodness.  So squishy, in fact, that the delivery nurse couldn’t tell if you were a boy or girl at first because of your rolls. The nurse placed you right on top of my chest, my heart, my whole soul.  That first encounter is still so vivid, so surreal, so emotional.  How could I love another child with as much love as my first?  My biggest fears turned into the biggest joys.  My heart expanded; it grew; it learned.  Oh my love for you was so great, and yet you were still so new.  Within moments, your sister climbed up and placed her hand on top of your head.  That continues to be her favorite place to show love.  She loved you so much that day, before even knowing you.  And that love has just continued to grow.

Your arrival into this world was marked by patience, wonder, and perseverance.  The pure amazement of God’s miracle was witnessed on the day you were born.  By the timing, the love, the perfection.  You were ready to say, “I am here.  I am me.  And I am ready.”  This year has been filled with amazing joy- watching you grow each inch, and reach each milestone.  And each day, you have found your way to say, “I am here, I am me, and I am ready”.  Let your light shine, little one, as you continue to grow into a beautiful little girl.

Somewhere between big and little

Oh, my sweet innocent child.

I see you across the room.  Sitting in your chair coloring the pages in your coloring book.  I see you looking upon your task with such fury, purpose, and passion.  I see you pouring all you have into that one piece of art.

I see you on the playground.  Climbing.  Swinging.  Jumping.  Sliding.  I see you giggle as the water splashes up at you when you jump in the puddle.  I see you try to hide under the very large bridge.  I see you try to run into the green field and enter into your pretend play.

Oh, dear sweet innocent child.  I see you gaze into the distant horizon.  Looking, pondering, and mesmerized with this life.  I see you ponder all that happens around you.

I see you try to brush your own teeth.  I see you try to dress yourself.  I see you helping yourself to food from the fridge.

I see you.

You’re growing.  You’re growing up.  You’re growing out of your baby skin.

And then, I see you.  I see you stumble on the stairs.  I see you skin your knee on the sidewalk.  I see you use way too much toothpaste for your own good.

I see you.

You’re still little.  You’re still a child.  You still need help.

But, you don’t know it.  You’re somewhere caught between big and little.  You’re caught between growing up and being a child.  You’re caught somewhere between running fast and snuggling tight.

Oh, my dear sweet innocent child. How I want to sit and show you a movie of your mama’s life, played back in the old fashioned form, with the speckles of light and gray and white.  To show you, in life’s urgency, all the lessons there are to learn.  But, instead, I sit and watch.  I see you.  Living life.  In it’s fullest.  Living life for the ups, for the downs.  And I cherish this moment.  Somewhere between big and little.

Hump Day High Five

Hi gang! I’m writing this post from beautiful, cool, breezy, and oh so peaceful Michigan. For this Arizona girl, the cool weather and blue waters are a nice change.  So, reflecting on this past week and the next week to come is actually quite delightful. 

My top five for this week’s mid point reflection…. 

1. We have been vacationing for the past few days. A change of pace has brought much needed peace and quiet.  Thank goodness! 

2. After two plane rides and a long car ride, it’s amazing how different traveling with two kids can be. Your hands are suddenly always full and your balance is just slightly off. 

3. No internet connection, no cell phone service, and no texting for 10 days. A total dream but also a total nightmare. (Scoping out free wifi spots just to do a weekly email check and blog post). 

4. Family. Friends. Love. Really- that’s what life is all about. Thanks to God for these amazing blessings. 

5. Writing this blog post on a beach, in a jean jacket, on my birthday. Doesn’t get much better than that. 

Hope you are all finding time to enjoy some peace and quiet this week. If you haven’t done so yet, I highly recommend it becomes the top to-do on your list.  

 

10 signs you’re living with Queen Elsa

For all you who know me, you know we are struggling with a cold front.  A cold front that can’t seem to pass.  You seem, Queen Elsa has moved in, and she just won’t leave.  For all of you wondering if you have the same house guest, here are 10 sure-fire signs that Queen Elsa has moved in with you….

1. You’re turned into ice while cooking dinner

2. Your morning is running late because Queen Elsa, eh-hmm, your daughter, cannot find her blue shoes.

3. You have a dead-end battle over wearing a jacket in the middle of winter (don’t you know? The Ice Queen doesn’t NEED a jacket).

4. Blankets and sheets are no longer used for sleeping. But rather, for the cape that gets thrown into the icy cold blast.

5. You have the fashion advice of Michael Jackson with one glove. Thanks to Queen Elsa, it’s back in style.

6. You hear requests to leave the warm, dry desert, because “we’re all going to melt”.

7. Your dog seems to be running in circles avoiding the frozen icy wand blast.

8. Your fingers are numb from braiding hair. Sideways.

9. The newly preferred color of the house is turquoise.

10. You must only respond to the name “Anna”, “Kristoff”, or “Sven”. All other names will not be acknowledged.

And when your daughter turns to look at you, in deep thought, and says, “Mommy, I’m ready to be Cinderella….” And you can see the light at the end of the tunnel from this Elsa madness and let out a huge big, deep sigh of relief. Finally, back to pink and ponies, you think. When, moments later, she says “And you can be the evil stepsister”… You happily oblige.

Dear Queen Elsa

Dear Queen Elsa,

When you moved in as the newest, greatest, most beautiful princess, we were thrilled.  We loved your song, your icy creations, and your beautiful gown.  We were mesmerized by your ability to design and sculpt the most perfect palace.  Probably the most beautiful  castle in all of Disney history.  We were impressed with your independence.  We were even amazed at your ability to do whatever you wanted. 

But, that glory has faded. Our awe and wonder has now turned into frustration and disappointment.  We’re ready for you to pack your bags and move on. 

You see, your perfectionistic ways and never changing beauty have seemed to take over our daily routines.  What once used to be an easy routine of getting dressed has now turned into an Elsa-fied dressing room.  What once used to be an easy ponytail has now turned into an “Elsa-braid” that takes several fingers and lots of hairspray to hold in place. And what once was an easy sweatshirt to wear, has now become a constant battle because the ice queen “doesn’t need a jacket”. 

Your name echoes through the hallways of our home as a replacement for what our daughter’s true name is.  Your words repeat themselves throughout pretend play, role playing, and even real life.  While we have all learned a lesson in how to “let it go”, we’re not impressed with your cold, isolated, lonely ways.   

Although you show us love in that tiny sliver of a screen shot of making a snow flurry for your true frozen friend; your cold, isolated, stubborn ways seem to be what resonate with those sweet little girls.  Yes, you learn that love is what matters.  But, that symbolism and metaphorical way of thinking is a challenge for the young girls to truly grasp. 

We’re here to say, you’ve overstayed your welcome.  So, you can take your cape and your missing glove and move on back to that beautiful ice palace on top of the hill.   

With the warmest of regards,

An ice-stricken momma