The Magical Day We Met Arlo Grey

Darling Arlo,

A little over a year ago (at 12:44 a.m. on 11/20/2018) we had the great pleasure and honor of meeting you. Our lives haven’t been the same since and there’s even more laughter and joy within the walls of our home and our hearts than ever before. Thank you for being you and for entering the world with mercy and efficiency, I’ll never stop thanking you for the way you were born.

Here’s how it happened: A few weeks before your due date (11/19) I began having regular contractions. I timed them and they were lasting 1 minute and occurring every 3 minutes. This went on for 20 minutes so I phoned our amazing Doula, Cyndi. She told me to drink some water and lie down to see if they stopped. Sure enough, they did. Life went on and the due date approached and I continued to have bouts of regular contractions that were close together but not painful in any way. I didn’t have this experience with Aida so it was confusing.

The week leading up to the due date I found myself feeling restless and ready to meet you. Due to numerous wildfires, the air quality was extremely unhealthy so we had to stay indoors. I went for walks at the mall and the museum and made laps and laps throughout our house to try to induce labor. Your dad and sister and I also spent a lot of time sitting in the dining room working on puzzles together. In the evenings, I’d stand up and sway my hips while reading Harry Potter aloud and you’d kick and move and squirm. Aida enjoyed seeing you bouncing around in my belly.

On 11/19th, I started having regular contractions again around 3:30 pm. Since they weren’t uncomfortable, I continued on with our plans and took Aida to a birthday party at Wacky Tacky at 5:30. I had contractions the whole time at the party and said many times that I hoped I’d get to meet you that night. The other moms at the party were excited and surprised that I was at a birthday party but I had experienced contractions so often that I figured unless there was pain, I probably wasn’t in true labor.

Aida and I made our way home that evening at 7:30 and had dinner with your dad. We put Aida to bed around 9:00 and then I texted the Doula to let her know that I had been having contractions again but it was “probably nothing” and then I laid down in the bed next to your daddy and gave myself a pep talk, aloud “you know, there’s nothing I need to do. I don’t need to get the contractions going or keep them going, the baby will come when the baby is ready, I just need to relax.” Seriously, in less than 2 minutes, I felt this internal “slamming” feeling which HURT! Your dad even heard it! I buried my head in your dad’s chest and said “I think my water just broke.” Sure enough, it had. I think you must have kicked off the side of my uterus with your feet and slammed your head down… it got the job done!

I called the Doula to let her know that my water had broken and she congratulated me “you aren’t going to be pregnant forever!” I drank a glass of water and smiled and smiled and smiled. I knew I’d be meeting you soon.

I phoned the midwives and told them I’d be coming in but wanted to take a shower first. “Don’t dilly dally” the nurse said. We woke up your sister around 10:30 and told her it was time to go to the birthing center. She and your dad helped me breathe through a few intense contractions at home and several in the car. Aida told us she “had adrenaline” and her legs “won’t stop moving” while we were driving to Davis. There were more contractions in the parking lot, where the Doula met us at 11:40pm.

 

By 12:00 am on 11/20 we were checked in and I asked them to fill the birthing tub with water. The midwife wanted to see how far I’d progressed and asked me to lie on the bed. I did not want to lay down for any reason. You see, I had a very slow labor with your sister and experienced “back labor” and therefore I had worked very hard to keep you in the ideal position for labor and had avoided lying on my back for any reason. She was persistent so I agreed to let her examine me and was BUMMED big time when she said “I can’t see much, so it’s going to be awhile.” I felt instantly deflated since I thought labor had come on so quickly and strongly. They encouraged me to take another shower instead of getting in the tub since labor would probably “take awhile.” I felt irritated (an important sign of labor) and told them I had just taken a shower but “ok, I guess I’ll take another one.”

The doula sat outside of the shower, your sister looked on saying ‘you can do this mom,” and your dad applied warm water to my back. I felt the intensity of the contractions pick up significantly and I was becoming breathless and worried and felt concerned about whether your sister was going to be okay if she saw me in lots of pain. I kept asking “is Aida ok?” and everyone reassured me she was totally fine. It’s telling that even when a mother is experiencing the most intense pain of her life, she can hold concern for her children at the forefront of her mind and heart.

Less than 20 minutes later (still standing in the corner of the tiny shower trying to get up onto my tippy toes to somehow get away from the pain) I told Cyndi (the doula) that I had changed my mind, I wasn’t going to be able to handle this intense labor for much longer so I wanted the epidural. She said my body was working so effectively to birth the baby and I reminded her that the midwife said “it would be awhile.” She looked me in the eyes and said “she said she couldn’t see much, so she doesn’t actually know, but I’ve attended over 1,000 births and I can tell you this is progressing quickly.” I kept breathing and enduring nonstop contractions and nausea and within 5 minutes I told her again that I wanted the epidural immediately. I asked her to “tell the nurses I’m serious and they need to help me right away!” She agreed to do so and turned to leave the room.

-Sidenote: the reality is that I hadn’t been hooked up to any IVs or anything so I would have had to have fluids for an hour before even getting the epidural… I knew this very well from my experience with Aida so I couldn’t fathom how I’d be able to endure another hour+ of the intensity of the contractions.

Then, as Cyndi turned to leave the room, without any warning, my body started to push. I bolted from the shower and ran to the bed where Cyndi was somehow waiting with a warm towel? I still have no clue where she got the towel so quickly. Magic I guess. I held Cyndi in a headlock and closed my eyes while your dad was by my side offering so much encouragement. I was mostly quiet other than a few breathy “Jesus, Lord, please help me, someone help me.” I never even pushed. It seemed like you were so eager to join us, you just transitioned out of your first home and into the world in less than 5 minutes like a freight train while I tried to breathe and slow you down a bit.

When you were born, your sister announced “It’s a boy!” and we were all so shocked! We just assumed we were having another girl. As your daddy said, “we didn’t even know we wanted a son until we met you.” I thanked you over and over for “not taking all day” and told you I’d forever be grateful to you for coming so quickly and you laid on my chest, nursed right away, and I was up and moving around in less than an hour.

Your birth was incredible. It was fast and your family was there. I felt strong and cared for. Your daddy took amazing care of us for weeks afterward and our friends brought food to us which supported us on so many levels. Each time I think back to your birth, I’m astounded that it all unfolded within minutes of my surrendering to the process and letting go of the timeline.

We headed home 24 hours later (at midnight) so we could settle in to our own beds. We were all so energized and full of life on that ride home and we spent the next days holding you and marveling over you and having the best (Whole Foods catered) Thanksgiving ever!

Honestly, we’ve marveled over you everyday thereafter. You are exquisite, Arlo, in every sense of the word. We love you more than words can say.

Love,

Mama

A Second Egg in the Nest

This is LOOOOOONG overdue. What’s that joke about firstborns having every second of their lives documented and subsequent children having a few stories pieced together? Well, I’m trying to avoid becoming that cliche but I think I understand why it happens… where does one find the time to___________(fill in the blank with anything other than providing direct childcare)?

Well, I’m committed to making the time to document the beauty of this journey before I begin to forget all of the nuance… there’s so much, you simply can’t hold on to all of it over time.

The 3 of us learned in February of 2018 that a new baby would be joining our family. I actually gasped and laughed when I got the test results on a Sunday morning and practically skipped into the bedroom to tell Randy the news. He was shocked but said he heard me giggle from the bathroom and had a flash of awareness that I may have just realized I was pregnant. Aida was thrilled as she had been hoping for a sister or brother for a year or so!

The pregnancy was very similar to the first…. lots of nausea that lasted all day, lots of smell aversions (I still can’t stand the smell of rose scented anything since I was using a rose face oil during the first half of the pregnancy), restless legs that just wouldn’t quit, and heartburn for months and months. It wasn’t all queasiness and burping though, there was the nice glow and shiny full hair, and the cutest little bump. At the time I felt so much bigger than during the first pregnancy but apparently, I was exactly the same size… I do think it popped out a bit faster though.

With this baby I craved ALL THE DAIRY! I was eating cream cheese and creamy salad dressings (which I’d never done before) and spreading thick layers of grass fed butter onto bread for snacks throughout the day. Our family had been vegetarian for nearly a year before the pregnancy and continued until the third trimester when I realized vegetarian sources of iron were not working for my body and my iron and platelets were dropping. I returned to meat and voila… my platelets and iron shot up and my energy improved.

I felt physically strong this pregnancy and continued to practice yoga (with modifications), barre, and Instaphysique until 2 weeks before delivery. Exercise is a NECESSARY part of my mental well being so I was relieved to be able to comfortably exercise throughout the pregnancy.

Here’s a little photo journey of the 40 week journey…

3 months

3 months

4 months

5 months

5 1/2 months

6 months

6 months

6 months

I interrupt this photo stream to tell you that snorkeling is bomb when you’re pregnant! First of all, you float so effortlessly! Also, it’s so quiet under the water and you can hear your breath all nice and full… there’s something about floating in warm water and knowing that your baby is too that feels particularly connecting. If you’re pregnant, find some warm water and a snorkel asap.

 

6 months

6 months

7 months (30 weeks on my 35th birthday)

7 months (30 weeks on my 35th birthday)

7 months on the Rubicon trail.

8 months

8 months. I love this photo, mostly because I live for Aida’s sweet chin and nose… it always feels like home when I look at her.

8 1/2 months

9 months

Aida’s pregnancy rendering

 

There were months that seemed to fly by and others that couldn’t move quickly enough. I noticed feeling much more ready to move on from the pregnancy towards the end than I did with Aida. I think it’s because I knew how much fun it was to have a baby and we had waited so long and I was so curious to find out if we’d be welcoming another daughter or if we’d have a new adventure with a son. Towards the end when I was waking several times a night, I noticed this song stuck in my head… for weeks. It has continued to be an important reminder for me….

Be Here Now – Mason Jennings

2 hours 37 minutes

Maybe it was the fact that so many of us were focusing our attention on the same thing which created a sense of shared experience. Maybe it was simply the novelty factor.  Whatever the reason, my experience of taking in the solar eclipse today was awe inspiring and humbling and brought up a mixture of comfort and heart break… I’m sharing partially because I’m curious if others had a similar experience (if you did, please share with me!) and partially because it feels vulnerable to share all of this and I’ve learned that it’s good to feel vulnerable, often.

I scrambled around on the internets late Sunday night to locate a pair of eclipse glasses because planning for the future is not really my strong point. Of course it was a mom from a nearby neighborhood who saved the day; they are gonna save the whole world I’m convinced. I picked up the glasses this morning, 40 minutes before the eclipse began and returned home and enjoyed breakfast with my daughter, Aida, on the back steps while we waited for the magic moment that the eclipse would begin: 9:02 a.m. I put down a picnic blanket for all of us in the backyard and poured a cup of hot coffee. On my trip home from picking up the glasses, I heard on NPR about playlists they had created for the occasion so I opened the CapRadio classical eclipse playlist (Aida chose this over the jazz and pop playlists) and laughed a little about being “that person who tries to make every little thing a big to do.”  Randy stayed home from work for the morning and joined us on the blanket, alternating between working and checking out the display.

We donned our glasses and turned our faces to the bright sky. I noticed the first tiny bit of obstruction and questioned whether I was seeing things. Aida confirmed that she could see it too. I was astounded that it was exactly 9:02 and predictions these days are just that good. After several minutes, Aida went to her swing set to pretend she was flying a rocket to space and I laid back onto the ground and kept my eyes fixed on the sun. The prolonged staring at the sun reminded me of times I’ve engaged in candle flame gazing meditations, but this time there was an exorbitant flame and it was so far away. The usual life stuff was taking place all around me (different than when I’m typically meditating during quiet times before anyone wakes or while Aida is napping) but I couldn’t really see it since the glasses block out everything except the sun. The glasses sort of do the work of a well trained mind that has impeccable orienting and attending skills. They’re magic glasses, really. I noticed annoyance creeping in quickly as my desire to be fully focused was met with repeated, repeated, repeated requests to look at a daddy longleg spider on the swing set. Of course my request for patience was denied and the calls persisted. Randy to the rescue. I felt some guilt about not being as interested in the spider as I was in the sun. I felt some entitlement to enjoy things that speak to me. The sun and the moon were speaking to me. As Vivaldi and Beethoven and Grieg beautifully accompanied the visual display, I felt a deep sense of relief and gratitude for being so small on an earth that is so big and has a moon that has been orbiting the earth every 27 days for the last 95 million years (give or take 32 million) in a solar system that has existed 4.6 billion years. Literally unfathomable.

Growing up, my dad often quoted scripture from the Bible when he really wanted to punctuate a moment. He would often say “Life is but a vapor” as the shorthand to James 4:14 “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.” I feel this truth in my spirit every single day for as far back as I can remember and it is likely the reason I try to hurry up and pack so many meaningful experiences into a given day and then hurry up and slow down so that I can feel the experience absorbing into my cells thereby changing me through the contact. This “vapor awareness” also drives my anxiety/fear/dread/grief about not “having enough time” to visit all of the places, read all of the books, learn all of the skills, hug all of the necks, or bear witness to all of the smiles. This shows up in seemingly tiny ways like not having enough time to frolick in all of the gorgeous highway medians (seriously, the green spaces are so beautiful and I can’t get out of the car to really experience what it is like to be in them and that always feels a little incomplete). It also shows up in huge ways like knowing it’s impractical (and some would say impossible) to keep my nose permanently attached to the top of my daughter’s head so that I can smell all of her smell all of the time.  Life is but a vapor. I know it’s true and I sensed how small I am as I watched the moon slowly creep in front of the sun. Tears of gratitude and sadness flowed simultaneously. I’m not sure which eye was crying gratitude and which was crying sadness but they were mixed tears for sure.

We are here on Earth a short time and we have little to no control over celestial events. We have slightly more control over human interactions, but not much. For several moments today I felt a sense of relief to let go of the human/ego/-created worries of our planet (oh there are so many I have felt almost paralyzed as of late…and I know I am not entitled to paralysis and it is not an option) and to just be in awe that there is a planet. Lots of them, actually. They will exist without us. We will continue to try to figure out how to exist longer and longer and my prayer and the mission behind my work is that we will learn to exist more peacefully and in awe of each other. Not tolerance. Awe. We experienced maximum coverage at 10:17 on the nose and tears streamed down my face again. I felt the air growing cooler as the sun was shielded, and I heard my husband and daughter laughing, and also my daughter fussing and wanting my attention again. I took my glasses off to play with her and noticed the greenish, silvery, eery light bouncing off of the trees and fences and it suddenly felt like Fall. The leaves on the ground even sounded crunchier as we ran around taking pictures and building spider houses.

I returned to my blanket and glasses a short while later and watched the darkness ever so slowly return to light again. Randy and I chatted about the cycle of darkness and light and it’s current implication in our lives. I noticed a deep feeling of loneliness that has been popping up from time to time the last few months. I realized that, in this moment, it was because I didn’t feel joined in this deeply moving experience I was having. Randy was checking in on the eclipse from time to time but was also working on his computer. Aida was running around enjoying herself. Nothing was wrong exactly, but it highlighted a way in which I often feel lonely…when I’m experiencing something so tender and powerful (almost always in nature or when I’m observing another person) and I am so moved by the moment and I get the feeling that those around me are not feeling it in the same way or have not noticed it at all. I long to be able to experience these kinds of feelings with others so that we can co-feel the experience and talk about it and connect more deeply. A few times that I actually have had these experiences just came to mind: when attending my best friend’s birth of her first child, when attending my sister’s birth of her first child. There was a tangible sense of gratitude and wonder by all in attendance. That kind of shared awe is deeply uniting. I want more of that.

As I kept my eyes fixed on the reemergence of the fullness of the sun and expounded, as much as I could, about this existential isolation type of grief I’ve been experiencing, I started to feel lighter. Maybe it was all of the crying. Maybe it was all of the sharing. Maybe it was getting to lie down for over 2 hours to focus my attention on one thing. It felt like some heavy life stuff that has been hanging over my head had been put into perspective and ordered in a way that felt manageable. That’s not really the right word… It actually felt more like “I don’t have to manage it, it will manage itself.” It felt naturally easier and has continued to feel this way all day. Randy went away to work. Aida and I made lunch and sat together on the patio. I held her close and was sort of captivated by the uncountable number of sparkling hairs on her head and the vibrant flowers on the trees in our yard. It felt like I was seeing everything with fresh eyes. Speaking of my eyes, I hope the fatigue I feel in them is from the mixture of tears and sunscreen that was running into them all morning and not signs of damage to my retinas. I guess I’ll know tomorrow. Either way, those 2 hours and 37 minutes of focused awe were totally worth it!

Nearly 4

Oh Aida Mae,

I haven’t been great about writing to you here because I’ve been busy chasing you around out there in the world. Thank Heavens for FB and Instagram because those are your “baby books” and I sure hope they are still around when you want to read them. Anyway, the reason I’m writing…today, we were on our way to Target (some things never change) and I got a familiar lump in my throat as I thought about your 4th year of life coming to a close. We’ve been anticipating your birthday and I’ve been toasting you at nearly every meal this week saying “this is our last breakfast together on a Wednesday while you’re still a 3 year old” etc. etc. As I type that, it seems kind of silly but, man, I feel the finality of it deep in my belly. You get so excited and look so proud to be growing older and taller and more independent and, believe me, I am endlessly excited for you too. I just can’t help but notice that the sun is sort of setting on your “babyhood.” Just as we have to rush outside to catch the sunset before it slips away and blends into the horizon, I find myself watching you extra closely so that I can take in the final remnants of your first stages of life. Your words are completely clear. Your stories are long and detailed. Your questions are complex. Your memory is scary good. Your bravery is astonishing. You are outgoing, determined, and hilarious. You are feeling more like a little girl and less like a baby each and every day.

I am known for saying “every age is my favorite age” because I have loved every part of our journey together… with the exception of a few weeks around 3 1/2 because I’m not sure what was going on but I googled and they said “disequilibrium period” and so I calmed down and endured but…it was weird. Well, these last few months have taken the cake. We have had the best time together!  I have laughed and smiled and played make believe and snuggled so much that I am probably in some sort of oxytocin induced haze. My favorite place to be is with you and your dad. It doesn’t matter what we are doing. In fact, we’ve been doing renovations for the last year and so the house has been a wreck and we’ve eaten lots of veggie burgers and tater tots and we haven’t put you to bed until 10:00 many nights because we were still working (don’t worry, you still nap 2-3 hours a day) and we’ve been covered in dirt and mulch and paint and brick dust and sawdust for as long as I can remember but it has felt like the sweetest, most connecting time. You’ve helped, enthusiastically, with every project and I frequently envision you as a much older child enjoying the things that you helped us build when you were so tiny.

I’m rambling.

and crying.

and laughing.

I guess I just want you to know that your 4th year was incredible. You sing along loudly to songs and you tell us knock knock jokes. You build structures with blocks and reference the “subfloor” and “wall casing.” You say your favorite colors are pink and purple. You regularly call my name to get my attention and when I look at you across the room you are signing “I love you.” You almost always want to wear pants and you will not wear shorts because “I don’t want to be too hot.” You collect anything and everything tiny and carry it around with you in some sort of pouch or box, or even an old dirty sock will do. You still get pumped for a Hoss family dance party on a Friday night and I still hold you close and twirl you around to Patty Griffin while you rest your head on my shoulder and coo in my ear. Your dad and I still talk about how much we love to watch you chew. I know, we are probably going to need to stop staring at you at some point because it will surely start to creep you out as you get older… But anyway, the way your sweet little mouth moves to accommodate the giant bites of cereal you take is so funny. I love to just watch your face as you think about what you want to say. It’s as if I can see your wheels turning. It feels like I’m witnessing something truly Divine. You are Divine sweetheart! We love watching you grow and can only imagine the beauty that will unfold in this coming year.

Here are some of our favorite memories from when you were 3!

Love you,

Mama

Dad took you to the ocean to see the crabs! He has been searching for the best bcd because he wants to take you scuba diving one day!

Her favorite thing to do is paint and draw with her new art markers and awesome fabric markers!

She NEVER stops talking….

I used to call this kind of post “Aida says” but now, she just never stops talking and it’s kind of overwhelming and now I understand why my dad just wants to come home after a long day of work and have silence….

The following are from over 6 months ago.. because who can find time to write these days?:

I heard a familiar snapping sound coming from the living room and found Aida amongst a heap of her brand-new crayons that she had broken into bits.
Me: Aida why did you break all of your nice new crayons that Santa brought you?
Aida: It’s cause I broke my crayons so hard!!

In the car after school one day Aida was “reading” aloud her daily sheet that describes what she did at school for the day.
A: I played with the parachute and I ate my lunch and I did not poop on the snow.

While eating cereal:
A: Mommy I need to wash my heartbeat off of my cereal please!!!
(Some milk had soaked through her shirt in the area above her heart.)

More recent proclamations:

I put on a floral print bikini top and when I turned around Aida said “Wow, mom, I love your flowery nipples!”

While making breakfast Aida came over to give me a nice tight hug around the legs and said “Mama, I’m your pal, we have a love like I’ve never known.” Yes we do, sweet girl. I’m glad that you know it’s true.

Lately, she’s taken a real interest in Jesus:

Aida: Mom, I need to call Jesus.
Me: Ok, call him anytime, what are you going to tell him?
A: I need to tell him that he is a beach man.
M: Oh, he lives at the beach?
A: No, he lives in Texas. I need to tell him good luck.

And another one….

Aida: Mom, I want to go back to see Jesus.
Me: You’ve seen Jesus before?
A: Yeah
M: Where?
A: At his house, we were eating tacos. He was crying…
M: Why was he crying?
A: He just wanted some candy.

Aida is also really into stomping. She loves the part of Frosty the Snowman where Frosty leads all of the kids in a parade and they stomp around the village. Lately she asks if she can stomp when we are in new places… like it’s fun. I don’t know. Well, this was sort of violent and weird: “mom, if I’m too difficult you can stomp me for sure then we can get on the boat and row it won’t that be just great?!”

This kid truly hates having her hair brushed or washed so I keep asking her if we can cut it short to make all of our lives better. Me: “Want your hair short like mommy’s?” A: “Nope, I just want dread locks with strings wrapped around them.” I’m not sure that she’ll understand cultural appropriation just yet, but we’ll talk about that soon.

We have officially reached the “terrible twos” which I really tried hard not to call them that, but let’s just call a spade a spade mmmmkkkkay. I had my own little meltdown the other night after an especially hard day and tried to talk about it with Aida at dinner, well, actually I think she was trying to talk about it with me: Aida: Mommy, you were really frustrated. C: Yes I was, do you know why? A: It’s secause (this is her version of because) you were having a hard time. C: Yes, I was having a hard time. When you don’t listen to me and I ask you the same thing over and over it makes me feel frustrated. A: Oooh, and that’s a problem!!

On the way home from school I heard from the back seat: A: “Mom, can I get a tattoo please?” Me: “Umm, what kind of tattoo would you like?” A: “A tiger, right here on my arm.” I pictured something like this…

Life is super crazy and exhausting and awesome and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. However, a night alone in a hotel with room service wouldn’t be the worst thing I could dream up =)

Aida says…

If you were a fly on the wall at our house, here’s what you’d hear….

 

At the mall this weekend: “Ooooh we get to ride the alligator!!!” It took me a minute, but I realized she meant “elevator.”

 

While she was coughing I said “sounds like you have a lot of congestion in there.” She replied (with a matter of fact look on her face) “yeah, I have a lot of conditioner in there.”

 

When she’s hungry she opens the fridge, observes the contents and (every time) can be heard quietly muttering “hmmmm…..let’s see, hmmm…..”

 

We’ve been working on building frustration tolerance so, now, when I say  “If at first you don’t succeed” she replies enthusiastically “and try and try agaiiiiiiiinnnnn!”

 

As Randy was getting dressed for work:

A: “Daddy, what are you doing?”

R: “Getting dressed to go to work.”

A: (loudly) “Oh that’s riiiighhtttt!! Get your work clothes on!!”

 

After I woke her from her nap last week (at 4:30 in the afternoon….whoops, mama had to type some session notes)..
Aida: Is it Diane Sawyer time?
Me: Hahahah, honey, Diane Sawyer retired, do you remember who does the news now?
A: Davie Yourrrrr!!!!!
Me: Yes, David Muir, that’s right. Actually Ellen is on right now…
A: She’s so funny.

 

At dinner she spontaneously sang this song we’ve never heard, it seems to be about “fishes”: “some are small and some are bigger, take a bite, it’s time for liquor!” (I think she meant it’s time for dinner)

 

While cautiously visiting with Santa after he asked what she wanted for Christmas: “ummm some crayons and a present….. kind of like a yellow present.”

 

A few days ago she was lying in bed with us in the early morning. Our faces were just a few inches apart and I said something to the effect of “Aida you are my daughter and I love you so much and all of the time that we get to spend together means so much to me.” She smiled the sweetest, sweetest, sweetest, most content smile, threw her arm around my neck, and said “let’s have a hug” and she hugged me with her whole body and I swallowed back tears breathing in that beautiful soul. Then she turned to Randy and said “daddy, let’s have a hug.” She’s got life figured out.

 

We are currently battling “common cold # 15,679” of the year (thanks a lot nursery school). Aida has woken up several times during the night coughing and at 4:30 this morning I heard her in the monitor providing me with the following instructions: “Mommy, I need some medicine, I need my medicine.” I promptly administered the homeopathic remedy and she breathed a sigh of relief and said “now water please.” I gave her some water and she laid down and went back to sleep. So, basically, she is parenting herself these days….

 

And this isn’t related, but my gosh this girl is cute. 

 

Happy New Year!

Christina

23 months

Aida,

You are a force. I feel like I am so behind in documenting all of your new milestones because I have been so very busy trying to keep up with you (and prevent you from getting a concussion). I actually don’t even know where to start because I feel like you suddenly know how to do everything… Your daddy and I are LOVING listening to the funny things you say. You are talking our ears off, using full sentences throughout the day! This makes it very easy to know what you want and thus you aren’t really getting frustrated much these days…unless you are trying to open something and you can’t get it…then you throw it across the room and scream. Moving on. It’s incredible to now have access to the inner workings of your mind. I love listening to the first words out of your mouth each day..sometimes it is a specific breakfast request: “cinnamon chex cereal and oatmeal and kale please” “panda puffs please” or an observation: “I see that blue nunu, I see that lovey” as you survey the contents of your crib. Sometimes the first words out of your mouth are expectations about the day “see friends today?” (when you are wondering if it is a school day?) “see Ms. Gardenia today?” Ms. Gardenia is the Assistant Director at your school who greets you every morning with “Well, hello Ms. Aida!” and you are obsessed with her! You ask about her everyday and just last night you were walking around the house saying her first and last name. I don’t know how you even know her last name, but you do and you like to say it over and over. I took a video to share with her on Monday. Your social and emotional awareness is so keen. We have inside jokes that simply involve a certain kind of glance or noise that reminds us of silly times shared in the past and no matter how many times we secretly reminisce about them, it never gets old. You love to hear your daddy and I talk about the silly things you do but you won’t make it obvious that you are listening. Instead, you’ll stay engaged in whatever task you are working on but when I get to the part of the story where your daddy is supposed to laugh, you will look over at his face, sort of sneakily, and wait to see his reaction and then when he looks to you, while laughing, you’ll look away as if you are sort of embarrassed, sort of proud of yourself,  but also sort of trying not to act too impressed. It cracks us up every time!

You have been so cuddly lately, wanting to lay down beside me, rest your head on my chest, wrap your arm around mine, rub my back, etc. I am loving it and your daddy is (understandably) more than just a little jealous. You still bathe with him every other night and I’ll hear you in the bathroom asking to “see mommy for a second” or if we are walking somewhere you’ll reach out to me saying “hold mommy a second.” You still nurse 2-3 times each day and are especially thrilled to have “meaalllkk” before bed. Your face lights up and you bury your head against me and pat my shoulder and rub your lovey on your face as you drift off to sleep.

You are very active and like to race everywhere we go. You learned “ready, set, go” at school and it brings you so much joy to race out into the middle of parking lots. We have to watch you like a hawk. You climb EVERYTHING. We bolted all of your furniture to the wall a year ago and it’s a good thing because you climb to the top of bookshelves, on top of the kitchen table (daily), on the counter top in the bathroom. A few months ago I’d hear you saying “Aida, get off the counter pease, Aida, get off the counter pease!” while you continued to sit on the counter and play in the sink. You know the rules, you simply don’t care. I don’t blame you. I never seemed to follow the rules when I was little either. At the playground you climb to the top of the play house and hang from the bars over the slide, cackling as you experience the sensation of dangling high in the air with the wind in your face, watching my nervous face below. You actually fell off the other day.  I caught you, of course, and softened the blow but you definitely fell through the air at least 3 feet and landed with a thud onto the curly slide and slid down sideways. My heart raced wondering if you were ok. You looked at me and said “again!!” You get this from your daddy, I’ve always been more cautious about physical danger. Wait, I just remembered that I used to build ramps to jump over holes in the backyard, on my dirt bike, at 5 years old, without a helmet. I guess you get a little bit of your thrill seeking from both of us. You love to be in the woods and claimed a hiking stick the other day. We don’t know where you learned that term, but you seek out a new hiking stick each time we are in the woods and you use it to steady yourself as you make your way over the rocks. It’s adorable.

Fall is finally here and you’ve been talking about your birthday, singing happy birthday to everyone, pointing out all of the pumpkins you see, and you’ve even been talking about Santa! Seeing your eyes light up as you understand your world more and more is just the best feeling. I can feel the magic of childhood resonating within you and I feel it too and am reminded of so many times I felt similar magic as a child. We are enjoying life, so very much, with you Aida Mae.

 

Here are a few photos from the last 4 months…

 

At South Padre Island on vacation

The water felt great but you preferred the sand, unless I was holding you.

Packing your lunch the night before your first day of preschool.

Drop off at school! You call him “little guy” and want to hug him every time we leave the school.

20 months old today!

Chilling at the crib with daddy.

Finally asleep on the flight to CA. Daddy and I had a silent cocktail party.

You developed a viral infection and had 103.7 degree fever. You just wanted to sleep on my chest and I gladly welcomed the cuddles.

Hanging with Daddy and Uncle “Juardo” in SF

You made my water into horchata.

Hiking sticks….

Hiking sticks…

Hiking sticks…

Your daddy is a fox.

At the museum where you threw an absolute fit because we wouldn’t let you scrape the paint off of the canvases with your fingernails. We are just the worst!

Here you had a meltdown because I wouldn’t let you swim in the coins like Scrooge McDuck.

At your 2nd favorite place to California….Juiceland.

At the pumpkin patch!

You insisted on trying to throw the pumpkins onto the ground, so I had to hold them firmly.

 

 

Relaxing with daddy.

Riding a cow named Nettie =)

Watching mom race around on an inflatable horse. You were scared. Understandably.

 

 

A huge slide!

You were so tired by the time we left and I love your sweet little tired face =)

 

 

Cheese!

 

 

All our love to you as your second year comes to a close. You’ve been the greatest teacher your daddy and I have ever known!

Love,

Mommy

Aida says…

Now that the wee one is saying full on sentences (some of which we find utterly hilarious) I’ll be documenting them here so that we can always remember them!

 

We’ve had a major stomach virus this week (blech) so Aida hasn’t been sleeping well, she awoke the other morning at 2:30 and we heard her exclaiming loudly through the baby monitor “Mama, Mommy, Maaaaama, Mommmmmy, open the door, come find me, open the door, come find me.” Ha! Needless to say, she got my attention and I went to find her…and as I expected, she was in her crib where we tucked her in for the night =)

 

When Aida was feeling particularly irritable one day I said “baby, please use your words and just tell mama what you need and I will help you.” She replied (sternly) “something different, something different, something differeeeeeent.” She never told me what that something was, but she was accurate in noting that whatever I was offering was just not cutting it.

 

A few weeks ago, while riding in the car, I heard her from the backseat saying “Randy Hoss, Randy Hoss, Daddy Hoss, Daddy Hoss.”

 

We went to the beach a couple of weekends ago and Aida took a seat next to this guy (in the photo below). She studied him a bit, noted the belt that draped down between his legs, and proudly said “vulva!” Yes, we use anatomically correct names for body parts. Clearly she is listening, though her understanding may need a bit of work.

Ahoy!

We occasionally let Aida play with the iPad and (more occasionally than we’d like) the iPhones when we need to buy a few moments of time…like to finish the last 5 minutes of our meal at a restaurant when she is “all done!!!”or in stores where she can’t get out and run around and destroy all the breakables, and (let’s be honest) way too much when I was sick this past week and had no energy to get off of the couch. Someone got a little too used to technology the last few days and after breakfast on Sunday ran into the living room and asked “where’s the iPad baby?”

 

After being served a veggie burger (with ketchup) for dinner she exclaimed (in an offended and questioning tone) “tater tots???! tater tots?! We quickly realized that she has learned the pattern and, yes, we always have tater tots with our veggie burgers. except last night because we were out. it won’t happen again.

 

Over breakfast this morning she roared loudly and then exclaimed “that oatmeal scared me!”

 

I love having access to the observations, curiosities, and nuanced complaints inside the mind of a toddler. I’ve eagerly anticipated this stage, and it is just as much fun as I imagined! What weird things do your kiddos say? Share them in the comment section!!

Christina

What if?

So it’s normal to cry when you drop your kid off at preschool for the first time right? Well, is it normal to cry in your car after visiting the preschool for the first time, even though your child is coming home with you? (Randy was also with us…) It’s not that anything went wrong. The school was nice, the teachers were nice (and have been there for years), the director was nice, the kids were nice (and seemed happy and amazingly calm) but my fear of the unknown is so present.

What if?

she happens to find a way to sneak outside and into the street?

she feels overwhelmed by the number of people around her and is just wishing that she could see Randy or I?

she feels sad if another child is mean to her?

she needs a break from the stimulation and she has to wait hours for me to return?

she has no clue how to nap in a room filled with other children and doesn’t nap and then feels exhausted the rest of the day?

she just wants some one on one time to read a book but has to go along with the schedule of the day?

she no longer feels truly seen by the person who is caring for her and just feels invisible (because it won’t be 1:1 anymore)?

she’s not ready to become part of the “socialized and orderly world”?

her wild spirt annoys her teacher and her teacher somehow communicates this annoyance to Aida, making her feel ashamed?

she loses her spontaneity because she suddenly has so many rules?

she learns to hit, bite,  and claim things “that’s mine!” or other things that humans do when they don’t feel reassured that there’s enough of everything for everyone?

she’s ok and happy when we leave but starts to feel nervous and sad within a short time?

she’s sad and looks nervous but the teachers don’t tell me that because they believe she will adjust eventually?

 

So many worries in this mama’s mind/heart/stomach.

I’m also aware that she may feel: elated, excited, stimulated, cared for, befriended, capable, confident, etc. and it’s likely that she will. However, the reality that my ability to truly create (and let’s be honest….CONTROL) Aida’s environment is slowly but surely lessening. We never thought we would consider preschool until age 3. I don’t know why, we just thought we’d want her in the home until that time. Well, that was before we got to know this little being who is confident and wild and seeks stimulation and never looks back to see if we are waiting for her and pushes every boundary and seems perfectly fine with us leaving for work and incredibly joyful when we return. We think she’s ready. In fact, we are starting to feel more and more that she may be feeling a little under stimulated at home (despite my efforts to build block towers and watercolor and fingerprint and side walk chalk, and read and read and read and dance and sing and help in the kitchen…etc.) and so our decision to pursue preschool 2 days a week is so that she can have more peer interactions and a change of scenery and other teachers in her life. With that change of scenery and introduction to peers comes the opportunity for all of the “what if’s” to happen. I guess this is the way with everything in life, if we want to see if there’s more out there for us (and more potential to be exercised within us) there is some real risk that the “more” will require some adjustment/discomfort/growing pains. In my experience the hard stuff has worked to increase my confidence and so it likely will be similar with my little one.

If I ask myself what needs to happen for me to feel at peace with the transition, it is that Aida will be eager to go to preschool and will jump right in with her peers (after a couple of days or so) and will enjoy her experience. She’ll be happy to see us (but not relieved) and she’ll still be the rambunctious, boundary testing, hug everything, and everyone, and every food, girl we know.  What if the first couple of days don’t go this well? Does that mean it’s not the right place/time/etc. or does that mean that Aida is just experiencing some growth and that it is actually good for her. How are we supposed to know this stuff? I’m sure we’ll do what we always do…tune in, try to tease apart our own “stuff” from her “stuff” and see where the chips fall. I’m becoming more aware just how protective I am, but that’s my job and one that is biologically rooted. The mama bear part of me is so fierce and even has trouble submitting to my own good reasoning at times. Especially during transitions. I can almost feel my stomach hurting from the tug on the metaphorical umbilical cord that is ever elongating as our sweet baby runs off into the world to experience her own journey. It is exactly what we want for her. And it is exactly what hurts.

 

Thank you for letting me just get that all out. If you’ve endured this struggle before I’d love to hear your process/tips etc.

 

It takes a village,

Christina

A photo from Mother’s day that warms this mother’s heart.

 

19 months

Aida,

To quote a text I received from your daddy a few weeks ago…”God, what a darling!” I had just shared with him about how you sweetly said “pizzzzaaaa” as I laid you in your crib. You see, I worked that evening and you and your daddy went to Target (where you were desperate to try out a pink bicycle and exclaimed cycooooo cycoooo cycle for all to hear). Your daddy decided to get pizza for dinner and when he announced this you got so excited and pointed at the frozen pizzas with delight and exclaimed “pizza, pizza, pizza.” We have been on a bit of a pizza craze around these parts and usually order one on Friday nights and you have really taken a liking to it. When I arrived home from work you two were sitting at the table, fresh from a bath, and you were savoring each bite with a nice long “yuuuuuumm.” It was so sweet. You asked for more and were thrilled to hold your very own slice. I guess it was still on your mind as I laid you down to sleep and I hope you dreamt all night about it’s deliciousness. The next morning you proudly marched into the kitchen with the pink tank top your dad bought for you and said over and over and over “pretty, pretty, pretty” and then placed the shirt on the ground, laid your cheek onto it and snuggled with it. I thought I’d just die. You are an incredibly appreciative and affectionate little lady. You always tell us thank you when we do something for you, you wave and smile and say “hey” to everyone, you hug every child you see (and even the child and dog mannequins at Old Navy), and you have become quite skilled at sharing lately. You love to be tickled and love to tickle others even more, exclaiming in a high pitched voice “tickle, tickle, tickle” the whole time.

You are talking our ears off. At dinner you repeat (clearly) every 3 or 4 words that your dad and I say as if you are just joining in the conversation. You’ve started using short sentences “I love you too, I see you, back up, raspberries….wash it, no way, go outside.” You point to things and label them nonstop. Like, really nonstop. You awoke from a nap the other day and when I went to get you out of your crib you said “monkey, Aida, hand, knee, face, ear, outside, blanket” as if it were a coherent sentence.   You’ve started saying some of your ABCs in order (ABC, TUV) and know which letters to fill in other places as I am singing to you. You’ve  started singing some of the words to your favorite songs (Let it Go….OF COURSE, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Row Row Row Your Boat) and you know all the repeating words to Miss Mary Mack (like a boss).

This month your motor skills seemed to grow by leaps and bounds (see what I did there?) You’ve been dancing more and evidencing some fast foot work.  You are climbing onto the kitchen chairs and up onto the table if we aren’t fast enough to stop you, jumping with both feet coming off the ground (you like to count to three, squat down low, and jump up as high as you can…we didn’t teach you this, you just figured it out), and just the other day you started walking backwards and laughing hysterically. You’ve started doing Down Dog and Bridge pose on your own (and you are ridiculously proud). You are using your fork and spoon very well (and yes, like all kids, it sounds like you are swearing when you ask for your fork). When we go out to restaurants you can not tolerate staying seated, you want to roam around and check in on all of the other patrons. You do not understand why we try to limit your visiting.

Aida, you are really starting to feel like a little kid instead of a baby and we enjoy every ounce of your company, your kindness, your smiles, and even your fits (though they’re few and far between). You are teaching us everyday about the kind of parents we want to be and you encourage us to live and make decisions from the highest expressions of ourselves. Thank you. You are such a light in our little slice of the world. Happy 19 months sweet girl!!

Here are some flashbacks from the last couple of months:

 

Walking on the trails behind our home where you discovered Roly Polies (sp?) and because they curl up into balls you made the assumption that you are supposed to kick them (like you do with other balls). So now anytime you see a bug you say “kick bug” and we have to remind you that we don’t maim things.

 

 

 

Easter morning!

 

Sampling her delicious dried apples with cinnamon

 

We went to visit the Easter Bunny and decided to forego the long line in favor of hunting a few eggs first. Well, you would not have it! You cut to the front of the line…and this unfolded…

 

 

 

No one seemed to mind because you were so incredibly excited. It was as if you were reunited with your best friend. You held onto him so tightly and didn’t want to let go!! We finally coaxed you into hunting a few eggs and then it was your turn to finally have your picture taken and you were IN LOVE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We went home for a nice nap and then it was time to dye eggs for the first time. You enjoyed it and said the sticker eyes were “wacky!”

 

 

The day of your 17 month birthday we went to have a juice and you seemed so proud that you got to sit alone on the butterfly chair and sip your juice by yourself =)

 

 

 

 

 

Looking at flash cards with daddy, can you believe you know almost all of these words already?

Acting silly with Mama on the back porch. I realized that I am in so few pictures with you so we’ve started taking more “selfies” to actually document the fact that we spend time together =)

 

 

Climbing the stairs at the playground for the first time! You never looked back.

Bath time with your Daddy is such a sweet ritual.

 

We get in on the fun sometimes too =)

Getting ready to go to the Botanical Gardens you decided to find all of my busted ponytails in the house and use them as your “blacelets.”

Running everywhere…I swear, you’ve forgotten how to walk.

This smirk, this belly, I love every single cell of you Aida Mae!

Mother’s Day…you weren’t that thrilled about my kiss though.

 

 

 

You love everything. You hug kids so tightly that you often take them down to the ground so we have been working on “hug and back up, hug and back up” you are starting to get it I think.

Oh Lord, you went nuts at the petting zoo. You tried to hug every animal there, at one point you laid down with the baby goats near their mother and I swear you would have nursed from the mother and stayed with them if we would have let you. When they licked your fingers you squealed with joy and the tiny babies didn’t even mind that you tried to pick them up by their heads =)

 

Strapped in and ready to hike.

 

 

Sweet eyes =)

 

 

You watched your daddy clasp his hands together one night and now you do it all the time, especially when you are excited…like when we arrive at a creek and you are eager to explore.

 

 

 

 

18 months old today! You said “I love you too” for the first time =)

No explanation needed.

You love to paint/eat the paint brushes/throw the supplies off of the balcony.

You had your first biscuit and you must have said “mmmmm” 45 times.

 

Fedorable

 

 

 

I love all of our special outings together, you are the sweetest companion.

 

Hugging more stuff…

 

This day you wanted to walk the whole trail by yourself (rather than riding in the Ergo on my chest). You would chase after dogs that passed and wave to the other hikers and run off into the tall brush and I’d remind you to stay on the path so that became your favorite word of the day…all day we heard “path, path, path, path.” Now when we visit trails, it’s the first thing you say.

 

We’ve been getting a bit more rain and the creeks are begging us to swim!

 

To celebrate 19 months we rode our bikes to the local pizza joint for dinner.

 

 

Happy 19 months sweet girl.

 

After your bath tonight I was brushing your hair (which you were not enjoying) and so you said “no” a few times and a few other words that we couldn’t understand. You were shaking your head “no” and trying to run away from me and your daddy said “what did you say Aida” and you looked at him so seriously and replied (with conviction) “I SAID NO, NOOOOO WAY!!” Lord help us.

Love,

Mama