Archive for : October, 2015
It seems harder and harder to get a quality photo these days. Max wants to say “cheese” with seriously clenched teeth leading to half of a fake looking smile. And that’s when he’s on board to “smile.” Or stand in the same room, even. We must be saying “look at the camera” in a foreign language (because he looks anywhere but there), plus the kid CANNOT stop moving. #toddlerproblems
I am in a place in this pregnancy where I am unable to sugarcoat. I just wanna keep it real. So, please enjoy these “real” vs. “that’ll do” photos sets. (If I knew how to put them side by side, I sure would!)
Max and I REALLY have it together! Y’all know me and my closed eyes history.
I may make this a regular thing, a “series” if you will, because BOY do we have more outtakes than keepers ’round these parts.
I refuse to take myself too seriously, and…
Thanks Mom, Dad, and Scott for being good sports!
Please share your helpful tips! Hershey Bar bribery works for us occasionally!
The 3rd trimester crept up on me.
As I start to countdown the weeks until baby on 2 hands, I find myself mixed with a variety of emotions. Excitement, anticipation, fear, sadness, regret, peace…the list goes on.
I know this is my last pregnancy and our last baby. I am at peace with that. It’s taken me a while to get here, but I am. Four is an even number. Two hands; two kids. Two sweet boys; best friends with everyone included. Full hearts and a family complete.
Pregnancy has been both amazing and terrifying for me, as it is for many. Turns out, I may suck at pregnancy. Luckily, I feel like I don’t suck at motherhood. The first, a miscarriage. The second, a beautiful baby boy growing with a Single Umbilical Artery leading to many extra appointments, measurements, and worry. The result was and continues to be our biggest blessing. The third, an ectopic pregnancy. The fourth, a rough first trimester and now 4+ weeks (and still going strong) of shingles ON MY BELLY. Oh, and I failed the 1-hour glucose test last week (so we’ll see how the 3-hour goes this week.) It hasn’t been smooth sailing and there have been many a trying moment.
All that said, I wouldn’t change one thing. I wouldn’t have my sweeter than sweet 3 year old boy whom I cherish; I may not have this strong of a marriage and connection to my soulmate and husband. I may not have found out I have Celiac Disease, which could’ve lead to loads of other health issues less manageable.
Everything is as it is meant to be, yet I cannot help but feel all the feels.
It’s more than just the typical “pregnancy hormone” kinda thing. It’s the life changing kind. The kind when you KNOW you are on the brink of a new and amazing (but, scary and unknown) life but you feel afraid and just not ready to let go of the one you already love. It’s heavy. Heavy stuff.
I’m excited to do it all again and to cherish every moment. To have the first followed by the last feels like such a blessing. I plan to drink up all of that sweet newborn goodness in large overflowing gulps. I’m excited to see Max in his new role as a big brother, to see Scott as a new Dad all over again, and to see what our love has created this time. My excitement abounds.
I’m anticipating who this little man is going to be. Should we stock up on tummy drops and pacis? Will he liked to be bounced on one knee on the edge of the bed? Will Zac Brown Band bring him to his happy place? We’ve been there. We can do that. But what if he is totally different than our first? Will we figure it out? Will #1 understand if we’re struggling with #2 and still love us through it? How, oh how, will we balance it all?
The fears. OH the fears. I am fearing more food allergies and/or dreaded Celiac Disease (kiddo has a 1/5 chance, thanks to his Mama). I, for one, am paranoid I’m going to forget how to do the normal, everyday things. Nurse, swaddle, bathe…will it all come back? Don’t say “it’s like riding a bike,” because I’m that adult who did not pick up riding a bike like, well, “riding a bike.” I’m also fearful that Max will feel slighted, left out, less loved. I can’t even expand on those thoughts without melting into a puddle of tears. I know my love for him will only grow – but how do I make sure he knows that through the depths of his soul?
Sadness. I’m sad already. Sad that this is my last pregnancy. Sad that this is the last time I will feel a baby kick inside of me. Hear someone else’s heartbeat along with my own. Be a living, breathing home for another living, breathing, growing miracle. Sad that a chapter of my life will be over, while knowing that another beautiful chapter will begin. Life comes in seasons and the leaves are starting to fall. The sadness doesn’t stop there there. I’m sad that I have to share my love for our first with our second. Sad that I won’t get as much time with him, hugs from him…that I may start to miss out on even the smallest of moments.
I’ve complained too much. I regret not being more gracious and thankful for this gift from God, even when times have been tough. So I am in pain, so what? It can always be worse. My complaining and self-pity NEVER aligned with being ungrateful or not recognizing the miracle of my ever growing belly. I did not document this boy as much or as well. At times, I admit, I forgot I was pregnant. Lots of hand-me-downs and recycled items have this baby boy’s name on them (whatever that may be!), even though we will not love him any less. Equal time was not given in thoughts, photos, or preparation. I regret there are not more hours in the day and money in my pocket.
All in all, though, I feel peace. Peace from within that this boy will complete our family and make us whole. That this impending family of four is just how we’re meant. That this new season of our lives will bring new and different excitement and challenges and level of love. That having a sibling will only enhance Max’s life and our ability as parents. I am the luckiest of lucky with the best husband in the world and an awesome family. I know we will get through it all together and that our lives will only be enriched with even more love.
Going from being a mama of one to two is a dream come true and I have faith that all of the rest will fall into place. I look forward to looking back at this post when baby boy #2 is 6 months old or so and feeling more at ease and confident with how we’ve done and what is to come.
“If nothing ever changed, there’d be no butterflies.”
He is a truck-lover to the core.
Big trucks. Little trucks. UPS trucks, mail trucks, dump trucks, grader trucks, car carrier trucks, container trucks, monster trucks, and fire trucks.
Max is to trucks as Bubba Gump is to shrimp. For reals. Chew on that analogy, SAT developers.
Our boy’s intense truck love progression…
I know more about trucks than ever before and something tells me this is only the beginning. This kid is three and yup…baby BOY number 2 is incoming (outgoing?) shortly. So, yes. WE LOVE TRUCKS! Never ever did I think that a truck would help Max complete his potty training journey – a logging truck to be exact.
Disclaimer: If potty talk is not for you, feel free to make like a baby and head out ;)
Max has had peeing in the potty down since March – for about 6 months. He still needs to be told/reminded to go about every 2 hours, but less than 10 accidents in 6 months equals “potty trained” to me. But the big #2 has been almost impossible. We avoided it for a while, thinking he just wasn’t ready. The pediatrician agreed this was wise. He had only just turned three. He had a few #2 accidents in his pants (only at home, luckily), but it def wasn’t the norm. Poop was only regularly happening in his Pull-Up at either nap or bedtime. But the nap ended (OH IS THAT A TOPIC FOR ANOTHER DAY!) and then #2 started to become a real problem. Read: only happening once or twice a week…creating major anxiety for all! A few messes also came our way. ::AHEM:: Involving #2 in places #2 should never be found. <Insert face palm>
Nuff said. Moving on!
Max started to complain that his belly hurt on a nightly basis, around dinnertime (and in turn, not eating much dinner). MiraLAX was something we started to keep around the house and I hated that our boy needed that kinda “help” for something that should be natural. We quickly realized a pattern and I decided I was ready to put that boy on the potty to try to work out #2 each evening. It was time! I was finally ready to commit! Well, somehow, one of us decided that he must be a logging truck. Ya know, he had to drop the logs at the construction site.
Well, wouldn’t you know? Utter magic!
Now, we have a boy who looks forward to his nightly construction site visit. Is it a celebration each night? YES! Do we look at his “logs” and discuss them as if it’s a real thing? BETTER BELIEVE IT! Do we talk about how we need to drink more water when his “logs” look more like “wrecking balls.” SURE DO! Have we said “beep, beep, beep” while the logs are en route? WELL, DUH! Max more readily tells us that he has to go #2 than #1. We’re almost 3 weeks in and it has been a life changer. Luckily, this happened almost simultaneously with his transition to his full-sized, big boy bed. This boy of ours sure is growing up!
Ain’t no shame in our parenting game. If it takes a logging truck to potty train your child – a logging truck, it is!
What worked for your and your kiddo(s)?
Was #2 a much harder task than #1, or was that just us? I’ve heard that’s pretty common with boys!