On the agenda

Wash floor

Pack bag

Pick up mom

Play with W

Take a deep breath

Have a baby

Normalcy and a sweating problem

Putting off the coming-terms-with and avoiding the translation of my current feelings has been easy. Between finishing a playroom in the basement (yes, I helped hang drywall at 8+ mos. pregnant), renovating the master bath, keeping up with doctor's appointments and the regular everyday-ness of raising a little boy, I've managed to keep myself rather busy.  

My fleeting moments of leftover brainpower have been filled with thoughts of paint colors, furniture arrangements, crib bedding, big boy beds, and new baby must-haves.  Not so much focused on trying to decipher how I feel about everything.  Everything being...how I feel about W turning two.  How I feel about bringing another life into the world.  How I feel about lying on an operating table to welcome this new life.  How I feel about my changing body.  How I feel about my relationship with D.  How I feel about me.  And not to mention how I feel about another trip to Lowe's and/or Home Depot or the daily sweat marks I get in my shirts(!).

There's certainly been a lot of ignored feelings.  

A couple of nights ago we made a (-nother) trip to Lowe's.  On the way out, D lugged our purchase while I lugged W to the car.  And by lugged, I mean slowly carried a 28 pounder atop my hugely pregnant mid-section and audibly heaved as I lifted him into his car seat. Then the feeling hit me:  soon I won't be able to lift him in and out of the car so "easily."  This mindless, menial task will soon be different.  That brief moment I have to lift him up, give him a hug, put him in his buckles and ask for a kiss is going to change.
 
I quickly ignored this feeling, shut W's door and pulled myself together.  Up until then, I had avoided these emotions like the plague.  I had no interest in mourning the change about to happen to child #1 --or to me -- but things were starting to set in.

Cue this morning.

As expected, bathroom breaks, throwing off covers and attempting to get comfortable during the night means not the best sleep.  So this morning I took to reading some blogs.  A friend of mine with an almost two-year-old boy and a little girl on the way (sound familiar?) is a rather wise woman.  She is well-spoken, thorough, and always manages to put into words some of those jumbly feelings I have swirling in my head.  Her post this morning was no different.  Speaking of her little boy, she said:

Up until now, every change has been so exciting, there was no space in my heart for sadness at the passage of time...However, it is suddenly becoming more real to me that he won't always want to climb up into my lap for a snuggle or to read a book; he'll understand at some point that he's too big to fit there comfortably. He won't always want to give me kisses in public; he'll understand his friends are watching.  

Now cue my weepy self.

The continuous milestones W achieves make me feel so proud, like I'd done them myself.  Yet I always seemed to feel more pride and anticipation for what's next rather than sadness.  Now, our family is doing the same.  In just more than a week, we will turn a new leaf in our little book of life.  W will turn into a big brother.  We will go from three to four.  And life will go on.  However, my usual anticipation just hasn't caught up.  Although I am thrilled, elated, excited, etc., when I am truly honest with myself, I am scared half to death to see what is on this next page.  It is becoming more real to me that although W might want to do all of the things we did before, he may not be able to.  Nor will I.  I feel sad.  I feel unprepared.  I feel nostalgic.  I feel like I want to dig my heels in the ground.

Needless to say, these feelings, coupled with the lack of sleep and raging hormones (the damn same ones responsible for the sweating) caused my eyes to overflow.  I was like a little kid.  Trying to catch my breath.  Trying not to be heard.  But just trying to make sense of it all.

The normalcy I finally got used to will not be normal anymore.  Being at the mercy of a newborn's schedule seems doable, but am I really going to be able to create a new normal and those special, unique things I do with my child(ren) just because?  All the progress, trust and momentum W and I have created in the last two years is sort of going to come to a screeching halt.  Am I really going to be able to pick it up again?  And will W still even like me then?

Perhaps I am panicked.  Or maybe just irrational.  Regardless, I'm sweating again.  

Thank you, Becca, for your words of wisdom:

Onward and upward, I say! Each tiny progression is wondrous and exciting--and I need to let myself be caught up in the moment...as often as I can manage it.

Each tiny progression is wondrous and exciting.  Genius!

Oddly, I know I can do this.  I will do it.  On on hand, I kind of have to; but I want to, as well.  And this is what life is about -- progression -- right?  Despite my nervousness, I hope to be pleasantly surprised at my own development as I step from one page to the next.  Sweaty and all, I want to be caught up in the moment and take the new "normal" as it comes.  Kissing W every time I can put him in his car seat.  And baby girl, too.

Quoted: Parent with faith

{via everyday i write the book}

Winston: Two Years

We're way overdue for an update about the little boy.  The little boy who's not so little anymore.

Stats:  

Height:  37"  (95%+...pretty much off the chart)

Weight:  28 lb. 1/2 oz (50%)

This boy keeps me on my feet alright.  And considering I'm really, really pregnant, he wears me out, too.  He has so much energy, runs everywhere he goes, pushes cars and trucks around the house all day, but gives me a break during his nap (still about two hours everyday) or when he watches "Haha" (Elmo) (1/27/11) or "Brobee" (Yo Gabba Gabba).  What else?

• No interest in potty training, despite repeated requests/suggestions/bribes, etc.  Prefers to do his business in the privacy of a corner or underneath a table
• Bites on both ends when eating string cheese
• Always says "cheese" for a camera or cell phone (which he thinks is taking his picture)
• Picky eater.  Or rather, only eats when he's hungry.  Won't budge otherwise
• Asks "Where Daddy go?" probably 75 times a day
• Second only to "ball," which he says 175 times a day
• Still obsessed with bikes, trucks and tractors ("da da")
• Goes to the computer to see his cousin "Nonnie" (Maria) or MaMom on a regular basis, hoping they're on Skype
• Loves, loves to color
• Recently took to Playdoh
• Crosses his index and middle finger (see pic)

• Sits on the barstools...no more highchair; and rather possessive about what stool he chooses
• Pats the seat next to him, inviting you to come sit down
• Loves to "race" upstairs to bed each night
• Always folds his arms during prayer, but if it's dinnertime, he will use one hand through his folded arms to pick up his cup/fork/food; sly little guy
• He and Lucy get along great...finally!
• Prefers to dress pantless
• Loves "ba ba" (bath time)
• Tools, nails, wood...the best things that ever happened  
• W becomes hypnotized when D and Papa work on projects at home.  He's oh so "helpful" and uses the screw driver, tape measure, hammer, you name it.  Quite the apprentice and contractor-in-training
• Officially climbs out of his crib, which couldn't be worse better timing
• Anything D says/does/asks is gospel; no question this boy loves his dad
• Hasn't quite figured out the concept of sharing yet
• Tantrums are too frequent
• But timeout seems to work
• Loves to snuggle with me while we wait for his bathwater to warm up
• Two-year molars = worst thing EVER
• Not a lover of haircuts
• Recognizes and points out the letter O
• Always jumps off the bottom stair
• Pats my tummy, gives it hugs or calls it hot (his word, not mine), when I ask him where his sister is
• Pretty sure he doesn't quite understand what a little sister will really mean in his life
• Still falls asleep any time I turn on Primary songs in the car (the best drug out there)
• Looks for the Prophet when he tears through The Friend magazine, and refers to him as Poppy
• Recognizes Jesus (1/26/11)
• Smacks his leg to call for Lucy
• Often refers to me as "The Mama"
• Hops and somersaults

I can hardly believe this little guy has been with us for two years.  It seems like so long ago, but yesterday at the same time.  He is funny.  He is full of life.  He is sensitive.  He is strong.  He's just a good, good boy.  I am so lucky to be his mom.  

He has made me laugh more and added more to my life than I thought any one/thing ever could.  He has taught me how to really love, how to teach, how to learn and how to relax and just laugh at how life can be.  He has created more perspective in my life and in our family life.  He has helped me see a whole new side of D, and reminded me how lucky I am to have D as a husband, and for W as a father.  It's incredible to look back and see the person I was before him and who I am now; changed, developed, improved by this little life of a boy who came into the world late that March night.  

Love you, W!

Whaaaat?

Winston turned two.  'Tis true; I hardly believe it myself.  W is two years old!  Geez!  

We've sort of had an on-going birthday month for him.  We started about a week early, and we're holding on 'til MaMom gets here at the end of the month.  Why not?  You only turn two once.  

W started his actual birthday off with waffles, eggs and a candle to blow out.  He's been practicing blowing out candles for weeks.  Don't know how he got on that one.

We had a yummy lunch, which we thought W would like.  Turns out he wasn't so hungry, so D and I had a yummy lunch.  Then we went to the car wash (what two year-old doesn't like that), then opened some presents later that night.

We got W a hockey set, originally intended to be played in his new basement playroom (which is his real b-day gift).  The basement isn't quite done, so the family room has turned into a pseudo hockey rink.  Poor Lucy hasn't quite taken to the hockey sticks and balls (pucks).  And W's poor soon-to-be sister; she might be the next victim of this hockey set.  But regardless, W loves it.  And his dad might like it even more.

A few days later we had a little friend party with some of W's buddies.  Most of them are a bit older than him, but he always has a pretty good time following them around and copying everything they do.  It's rather humorous.  It was a "Things that Go" sort of theme.  The kids decorated cars, found Goldbug and had some lunch.  Easy and fun.  

Quoted: Life is for the living

Without a doubt, in teaching I always seem to be the one who ends up learning.  One of my former Young Women (12- to 18-year-old girls I used to teach at church) said this.  Such a wise girl.