wordless wednesday

happy Easter, a little bit late

not-me monday

In honor of my perfect abilities at motherhood, I give you the following:

I did NOT look the other way as I prepared dinner, allowing my 6 month old to sit in her Bumbo seat on the kitchen floor, playing with the plastic bags that were still holding groceries, and I did NOT ignore the fact that she liked the taste of the bags, turning my head only when the noise stopped just to make sure she was still breathing. Who would do such a thing? Not ME.

I did NOT start my morning by pulling a new toothbrush out of the toilet. Nope, not ME.

And that's all I have time for today. For more not me! monday fun, visit MckMama.

wordless wednesday

first baseball game

six months young

Dear Lizzie,

Six months ago from the exact moment that I publish this post, you suddenly appeared with your dark, swirled hair, and put an end to the waiting: it was a girl.

Now you:
-think your sister is even better than sliced bread, and definitely funnier
-clumsily reach your chubby arms up to my face and pull me to you so you can plant a wet one on me when I pick you up after a nap
-say "dada" clearly (as of yesterday, though we're not sure yet if you're just saying it or actually calling daddy by name)
-reach for anything and everything but are particularly taken with hair
-crawl backwards and sideways, and are close to crawling forwards
-still love standing up, assisted
-munch on anything you can, including, at times, both feet and both hands at the same time
-smile for photos
-giggle and squawk when you're entertained, or tickled, or even just when we say hi to you
-love zerberts on your belly, and you do your best to give them to us often
-stick your entire Soothie binky in your mouth at once, and then smile at us. It has a similar effect to an older kid putting an orange wedge in their teeth, except that all the extra plastic in your mouth makes lots of bubbles come out.
-just started the stranger anxiety phase, but show no signs of including your nanny, Kathleen, in the group of strangers; you greet her in the morning with a ready smile
-are still pretty content in general, but are willing to assert your needs when you're really tired or when your teeth are on the move
-can light up a room in general, but especially when you're wearing red - it's a good color on you
-wake up babbling to yourself and can entertain yourself easily
-have so many rolls on your legs that it's hard to count them, yet you're somehow still so little
-know the faces of your favorite people, in no particular order: mama, daddy, Pink, and Kathleen
-bring a sense of completion to a family that didn't even know you only six short months ago

Happy 6 month birthday, munchkin. We love you.

too much coffee, maybe?

What's THAT? Did my voice just ECHO in the hallway? I thought yesteday morning while lecturing about job application procedures.

I stopped myself mid-sentence and remarked to my students that I thought I just heard an echo of myself outside.

"Yeah, Ms. D., you're talking really loud."

"I AM?"

Said one student who had just gone to use the restroom: "Yeah, I could hear you, like, all the way down there."

"You could?"

And thus followed an explanation of how I was up until midnight w/ Beloved filing our taxes, up with my sweet baby from 2:30-4, and then up at the alarm's oh-so-annoying ringing at 5. Exhausted as I was, I rationalized to them, I drank an extra cup of coffee, downing it as they walked in the room at 7:30 am, earlier than the sun even fully woke up.

This is also the class that caught me talking at warp speed after drinking extra coffee a couple months ago during a particularly difficult, sleepless week. And this happens to be one of my favorite classes of all time - the winning combination of smart, witty, responsible, and hyper. So we know how to laugh together.

Which we did lots of yesterday morning, as I described my morning, my coffee fix, and a couple of the many reasons why it's not a good idea to trivialize sex, babies, and parenthood. Because, I warned them, they might find themselves yelling at people without even knowing it.

This morning's cup of coffee is disappearing much more slowly.

even more perspective

Last year I learned about the character-refining qualities of things like perpetual asthma attacks and bug invaders.

Last year and the year before I learned about the importance of accepting God's timing as we waited over a year to conceive our second child, only to miscarry and then wait another three months to conceive Lizzie.

Not that I claim to have perfected myself through these trials.

But the lessons came in handy two nights ago when TWO babies, not just one, took turns waking up All. Night. LONG. And when they switched off at around 4:30am, and I thought I just couldn't get out of bed one more time, I smiled, thinking of the sweetness of this time in our lives and how much time we spent longing to be in this place. We are finally here -- finally we have two miracles filling our house with chatter and giggles; finally we have two beauties to tuck in and cherish. And finally we have two little ones who cry all night when they're both stuffy and coughing with ear infections. Two call for us, desperate for the comfort that only mama, daddy, and some Tylenol can bring.

And that feels so good that even in the pain of a sleepless night, I wouldn't trade it for anything. What a wonderful, much-anticipated gift.

And what a gift of perspective I gained through the heartache. Yes, I believe God knows what he is doing, after all.

wordless wednesday

sisters