Our life in pictures

Connor - 3 months old!
He's long for his age.  My little giant.  <3

We vacationed in Texas last week where we stayed with some dear friends from college.
Here are Lily and Cecily, absolutely exhausted after shopping with their mommies.

We went to the zoo with our friends and their kids.
Here is everyone checking out the giraffes.

This little guy is our godson, Beckett.
Despite missing a few front teeth (he's getting so old!)
he was rockin' the chocolate ice cream.

Our little family at the end of the day at the zoo.

When we got home from Texas, we discovered we had been pranked.
Stripes mowed into our yard, and forks everywhere.

Forks Ev.Ry.Where.  In the lawn, hanging from the eaves,
in the flowers, taped to our doors and door handles...

Not even the mailbox was safe.

We celebrated the 4th by going to the parade.  Lily had just gotten up from a nap,
so we stood by some of her little friends hoping that they would pull her out of her slump.
No luck.  She'll like it better next year.

Connor had a better time at the parade than his sister.
Here he is hanging out with his grandpa.

After the parade we went to my grandma's house where she got out kites.
Flying the Pooh kite definitely beat out the parade in Lily's book.
She was heartbroken when we had to put it away because it was getting dark.
We finished the day with fireworks in grandma's lawn.

The 4th celebration wasn't over for us yet.  Yesterday we went to Chase's parents'
where the family spent 1/2 the afternoon filling water balloons for the annual water fight. 

And then the boys had the water fight. (This was one of 2 teams...)

I hope your celebrations were as fun and wonderful as ours.
What a blessing to celebrate our freedom with family and fun.  

Counting my blessing. Every day.

• Day 1 - He asked her out, took her to Pizza Hut and got a 3^rd degree burn on his arm from a Big New Yorker
• Day 7 - He high centered the van after they left Pizza Hut
• Day 10 - He gave her a teddy bear, candy and card for our first Valentines Day
• Day 98 - She dumped him
• Day 252 - They got back together
• Day 279 - He helped throw her a surprise 16^th birthday party… and still didn’t get a kiss
• Day 462 - She dumped him (again)
• Day 502 - He let her have another chance and they got back together (again)
• Day 586 - Their first kiss (finally!)
• Day 826 - He graduated from high school and headed to Hillsdale
• Day 1,127 - She visited him at college and discovered that Hillsdale was the perfect fit for her too
• Day 1,190 - She graduated and headed to Hillsdale
• Day 1,716 - He asked her what she was doing for the rest of his life
• Day 1,967 - They said “I do”
• Day 2,290 - He graduated from college
• Day 2,654 - She graduated from college
• Day 3,482 - They moved to Washington DC to pursue her dream
• Day 3,829 - She became a Master (before he did) (MA in American Government)

• Day 3,962 - He became a Master (after she did) (MA in Marriage and Family Therapy)

• Day 3,997 - She found out their lives were going to change forever… and she was in total denial for 2 days
• Day 3,999 - He found out their lives were going to change forever
• Day 4,181 - They moved home
• Day 4,254 - Their lives changed forever

• Day 4,909 - They found out their lives were going to change forever (again)
• Day 5,166 - Their lives changed forever (again)

• Day 5,254 - Today. They celebrate 9 years of marriage.

Here's to today and every day.

I love you, Master Chase.  You are my very favorite.  Happy anniversary!

Love, 

Master Steph

Summer has arrived

How has it been over 2 weeks since I posted last?  I've thought of at least 47 blog topics in those 2 weeks.  But finding the time to write them... *sigh*  So much has happened, so I'll just recap the highlights.

POTTY TRAINING

I mentioned in a previous post that Lily is now potty trained.  I started it because one Wednesday morning she told her dad, "Just a minute, I'm pottying."  And later that day she told me, "Just a minute, I'm pooping."  I responded, "What would it take to get you to put your potty in the potty chair?"  She looked at me with her big brown eyes and said, "A movie."  Without missing a beat, I responded, "I have one for you!"  (When your child can tell you to wait because they're doing their business, it's time to teach them where business ought to be done...)

I had ordered a couple of new Little Einstein movies (lately her favorite kind of movie) for just such an occasion.  I pulled one down from the shelf, and by Wednesday evening we had drips in the potty chair and a movie on the TV.  Thursday was an emotional disaster.  I spent most of the day at my mom's house with her to help.  We went through at least 17 pairs of underwear (not even kidding).  I literally held Lily over the potty chair as she bawled, because I knew she needed to go and needed to have success at hitting the potty chair, even if it was through tears. 

By Friday afternoon, she figured it out and we not only had potty in the potty chair, but poop too!  I couldn't believe it!  We watched a LOT of movies over the course of the next few days.  Lily's motivators were definitely movies, marshmallows and jelly beans.  As life got back to normal this week, we've had minor accidents, and we're still figuring out the pooping thing (movies and chocolate seem to be the motivators lately), but I'm relieved to say that we have survived the big potty training hurdle.  Just a few small ones to go.  Hurray!

Probably the funniest two things related to potty training that happened were...

1) We were at Chase's parents' house, staying the night because of a horrible storm (more on that later).  We took the potty chair along and set it up in the bathroom.  Lily was getting pretty proficient and independent by then.  I had her in her feety-zip-up jammies and ready for bed.  She was playing for a few more minutes, and I wasn't really paying attention.  Then she runs into the kitchen (from the bathroom where she had gone potty all by herself) stark naked, and she says to me (while shrugging her shoulders), "I just lost my clothes."  

2) As we're now focused on helping Lily learn to poop in the potty, we have different things we try to encourage her or help her figure things out.  Because she knows she gets to watch a movie when she poops in the potty, Lily has taken to spending a LOT of unnecessary time on the potty chair trying to poop.  It can get old. Real. Fast.  So if you ask her if she's done pooping, she either tell you, "No, not quite yet," OR "I'm still squeeeeeeezing the poops out."  

I love her.

THE STORM

As aforementioned, we had a terrible storm that came through the Midwest last week.  Thunder, lightning, heavy rains, hail, strong winds, tornadoes.  Not pretty. 

We went to Chase's parents well before the storm hit, because they have a big basement and we do not.  Some friends who are basement-less came with us, and it was kind of a fun evening.  Chase was standing outside when the temperature went from 80's and horribly humid to 60's and crisply cool in about 3 minutes.  Three minutes, people.  It was WEIRD.  

Not long after that, we stood outside and watched 3 different layers of clouds all moving in different directions, kind of swirling about above us.  It didn't turn into a tornado, at least not one that hit us.  Two waves of marble-sized hail came through, and we got an inch of rain in less than 15 minutes at one point.  

Poor Frazier (our dog) could hardly handle the storm.  He HATES thunder.  Hates.  He shivers and shakes and hides under beds or in other places he feels are safe.  In preparation for the storm, Chase's parents filled the bathtub with a little bit of water in case we lost power and needed to flush the toilet (clever, right!?!).  Unfortunately, the bathtub is also one of Frazier's favorite hiding places during storms, so at one point in the evening, he unintentionally went for a dip in the tub.  By the time I got to him, he was standing on the bathroom rug, shivering little droplets of water all over the bathroom.  Poor old boy.  

He also feels (and is) horribly neglected since Connor came along.  He has noticed that when Connor lays on the playmat, he gets lots of attention.  So Frazier decided to lay on the playmat too.  He received different results.  Things have gotten so bad for Frazier that you can sometimes even find him stooping to the lowest of the low - he'll go hide (when Lily is pestering him) in Lily's Hello Kitty tent for safety.  A dog taking refuge behind Hello Kitty.  It's gotten pretty bad for him.

THE POOL

The swimming pool opened on Memorial Day weekend here, and we bought our family pass!  We live close enough to walk to the pool, so we got out the strollers and headed out:

Lily is riding in the double stroller.  But the double stroller doesn't lay down flat enough for Connor to sleep, so we had to take the single one that actually lays down.  He slept for a little while:

He's such a little chunk!  He's actually not as fat as a lot of babies, but he's so long!  He looks like a 6 month old, except that he's not developmentally that far along yet.  When people see him they typically either comment on his dark hair or his size.  He'll be tall and (if his daddy has anything to say about it) a basketball player.

My sister is working at the pool this summer, so we took a minute to talk to her.

Lily took a little while to warm up to the reality of the pool.  (She loves the idea of the pool, and we've been talking about it since March.  But actually getting in the water... that took some convincing.)  Eventually, she came around and had a great time!

I love this next one:

Going to the pool will be much more complicated this summer than it was last summer when I just had Lily.  It has to be hot enough for us to go, but cool enough that Connor doesn't roast.  Plus, I have to keep him in the shade for the most part and somehow play in the pool and watch Lily.  I'm still working it out - I think it mostly means we go after Chase gets home from work.  But we love the pool and will figure out a way to make it work.

OTHER EVENTS

This weekend Connor found his fist.  I remember when Lily found her fist, she would slowly bring it closer and closer to her eyes till she punched herself in the nose and went cross-eyed.  It was hilarious!  Connor finding his fist isn't that way.  He's much more suspicious of it than she was.  

Tonight he and I were laying on the living room floor and I was holding a picture book up over us for him to look at.  He'd look at the giraffe on the page and then glance down to his left (he's only discovered his left fist so far) and out of the lower corner of his eye watch his fist as it hovered near his left side.  He might raise the fist a little bit, but then he'd move it back down toward his side and watch it carefully as it went.  When he was sure it was going to stay there for a while, he'd look back at the giraffe.  All the while his right hand (not in a fist) was flailing around like crazy up and down the on his right side.  Evidently the left hand is the one to worry about.

Also, he cracks me up when we read books.  I have one book that is of animals and it's very simple.  One animal on each page with a plain colored background.  I love it for tiny ones because you can tell when they're focusing on and start to see preferences.  Lily loved and would respond much more to the kitty page in the book - she'd smile and giggle and coo at that page more than any other.  And now kitties are her favorite animal.

So far, Connor's favorite page is the monkey page.  He was very serious for the first few pages.  Then I got to the monkey page (probably 6 pages in) and all of a sudden I see his dimples.  He gave the biggest grin for probably a minute while talking to the monkey.  Tonight he also liked the elephant and the polar bear pages, but the monkey has been a favorite over the last week.  Maybe he's a monkey boy?

OTHER THOUGHTS

I made a little art project before Connor was born to hang above his bed.  It's the verse out of 1 Samuel, "For this child I prayed, and the Lord granted me my request of Him."  It is so the verse I need to be reminded of with this little boy.  As I bounce and sway him to sleep for naps or for night, as I try to keep the kids' room tidy, as I change his sheets from him spitting up on them *again,* I see it.  And I am reminded of how often and how earnestly I begged the Lord for the blessing of this little one.

It's not that "God gave me what I was asking for" in a bad way at all.  And it's not that my son is precious to me only because I asked God for him.  My son is inherently precious because he, like each of us, is created in the image of God.  And my son is precious to me because he is mine. 

C. S. Lewis talks in his autobiography about joy and how the joy is often in the remembering even more so than in the experiencing of something.  It's kind of like that with Connor, at least somewhat.  Having him is so very special and wonderful.  But when I get the experience of having him and I consider that in light of the time I simply yearned for him - that is when I feel the most joy.  It's also when my patience increases, my stress recedes, and I'm able to look anew at the blessed life I've been given.

ONE LAST THING

Speaking of being blessed... Our landlords (bless their souls!) put in a dishwasher for us.  It got hooked up a few days ago, and I cannot even begin to tell you how wonderful it is!  It's part of the reason I have time to sit and catch up on the last couple of weeks of life on my blog.  While I've been writing this, I've also been doing 1/2 an hours' worth of dishes too!  Isn't that AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!

It won't be like this for long...

There are those days you hope to forget and the ones you pray you'll remember.  Today was one of the latter, so before I collapse into bed in exhaustion, I just have to record a few thoughts.

We started potty training on Wednesday, and by today I was confident enough that we went out in only undies and only switched the undies (and not the entire outfit) once.  We attended my cousin's wedding and left the house at 2:30, not to return until 9:40.  It was a long time out, but Lily did great!  (More on potty training in a later post.  That is a story all its own!)

I missed most of the wedding because first Connor had to eat and then Lily to potty (her first ever potty in a big toilet, let alone one in a public bathroom!).  But it was the reception that was the interesting part anyway.

We got there and had to kill over an hour before the wedding party arrived.  That didn't stop the DJ from playing some music, and Lily was begging BEGGING to go out on the dance floor.  Instead, we ran laps from the dance floor, up the stairs, through the bar, down the stairs, across the dance floor and around over and over again.

By the time we ate, Lily was a mess.  Not only had she watched WAY too much TV that day (movies are her motivator for pottying), but she'd also had too much sugar (marshmallows are the 2nd best motivator) and no nap.  Not a great combination.  But with a little food in her, she was ready to hit the dance floor.  

It was pure torture to watch the bride and groom's first dance.  Then there were the dances with parents that equaled sheer agony.  

FINALLY, my little one's moment came, and she got out on that dance floor!  She specially requested that Aunt Kim accompany her after she'd gotten warmed up:

Good thing she wore a twirling dress.  (That's how she evaluates whether a dress is good - whether it twirls to her satisfaction.  Many a tear has been shed in our house while getting her dressed because the selected dress doesn't twirl to satisfaction #mommyofagirlygirlproblems):

Eventually she let both of her aunts dance with her - Aunt Kayla in the teal and Aunt Kim in the black.  I love this picture paired with the next one.  First Lily gives her aunts dancing instructions:

Then they all dance together!

Obviously other people danced too.  Like my grandparents, both in their 80's:

And finally, Connor had a good time too.  He got passed from one family member to the next (and there were PLENTY wanting a baby snuggle).  The joke was that my kids had been so bad (crying, overtired, emotional, and otherwise high-maintenance) the last 2 times we'd seen my brother that he will probably never EVER think having kids is a good idea.  So I snapped this picture.  If Connor and Lily end up never having a cousin via the Tony Deichmann branch, they have only themselves to blame.  However, you have to admit, Tony and Kayla would take a beautiful family picture with a baby of their own someday when they're ready.  At least that's what I think.

When we finally got home, we got Lily to bed and within 3 minutes she yelled that she needed to potty.  She sat on her potty chair for almost an hour.  It was 10:55 by the time I convinced her to get off and that trying for an hour to poop was probably long enough.  I coaxed her off by promising that we'd just "take a break" from trying, and come back and try again later.  As it turned out, I got her jammies back on, sat in the rocking chair holding her, and sang only 2 songs before she was out cold. 

Dancing as hard as she did is exhausting.  We have another wedding with a dance tomorrow.  I think I'll make sure she gets a nap.  I have no doubt that she'll need it!

Overwhelmed

I wrote this on Monday, and I'm only posting it now.  Such is life...

On Saturday night at 10pm I called my mom in tears.  I was bawling.  Like my 7 week old son.  Nothign was wrong, other than that I was overwhelmed.  Too many things done and yet to do in too few hours.  Between Chase (who recommended I call my mom) and my mom, I got calmed down and we figured out what to cut out of the schedule so I could function as a wife and mother again rather than as a 7 week old.

I told this to a friend yesterday and she pointed out that I seem to get overwhelmed like that once every few months.  She was being nice.  What she meant was that I get overwhelmed once every few weeks few days.  Honestly, since Connor was born, I feel like the pattern is this:  Talk with my significant other about how we need to cut things out; cut out one tiny expectation for tomorrow; say yes to way too many things over the next few days; freak out again; talk with my significant other about how we need to cut things out; cut out one tiny expectation for tomorrow; say yes to way too many...  

It's like Lamb Chop's Song that Never Ends (yes, it goes on and on my friends...).

Maybe it's how I need to live my life.  Maybe I need that kind of stress to feel like I'm thriving?  That's pretty crazy.  I think I should change something, but I'm not sure what to change.  

Despite my best efforts to cut out unreasonable expectations, the truth is that I still like to have my laundry mostly caught up, folded and put away; my dishes mostly done; and my house somewhat clean (though don't expect it to be dusted.  I hate that job and only rarely do it.  Why can I let dusting go, but not other things?)  And then there are those tasks that end up on my long term to-do list.  Like cleaning out the fridge (how does it get so gross?), wiping down the blinds in the kitchen (this has been on the to-do list since we moved in a year and 3 months ago - clearly I never get that far down the list), shaving the dog (I tell myself I save between $30 and $50 by doing it myself every time.  It doesn't help.), redoing the flower bed on the side of the house (like that's going to happen - it's on the "wishful thinking" list), and cleaning the oven (seriously.  It's gross!).  

Maybe your list looks a little different, but you know what I mean?  It's that little rain cloud of to-dos that follows you around day after day, week after week, month after month, and you just get to a point where you HAVE to cross something off?  That was me yesterday morning.  

The task of choice (or necessity for my sanity) was cleaning the oven.  I was armed, prepared, ready!  I had looked on Pinterest for the cheapest, easiest, safest way to clean the oven.  Me, my gloves, and baking soda were ready to take on the charred nastiness of the interior of that appliance.  It took me all morning.  All. Morning.  My oven was really dirty, but the Pinterest recommendation worked like a charm.  I was just busy with other things...  Lily played pretty well on her own, and Connor wasn't fussy, but he was awake.  

Great!  I figured.  Maybe I could check off two things in one day!  It would be a miracle!  I didn't care about my laundry.  Dishes?  What are those?  My oven was getting cleaned and perhaps (Perhaps!) one more thing would get done too!  

Connor went down for his afternoon nap (always AT LEAST 2 hours worth), Lily was settled in front of an 80 minute movie.  I was good to shave the dog - a 60 minute task! 

So I thought.  I ended up getting about 20 minutes into it before Connor woke up.  This was just enough time to shave Frazier's head almost back to his ears.  I tried over the course of the next 30 minutes to make something work - get Connor back to sleep, keep Connor happy watching the shaving in the garage, pacifier, no pacifier, swing, bouncy seat, floor time, tummy time, all to no avail.  

I finally gave up and jumped in the shower to the serenading of Connor's screams.  He wasn't fussy.  Just wanted to be held.  And awake.  Awake practically all day yesterday.  Someone should tell him that 7 week olds should take at least 3 naps a day.  *sigh*

Some friends stopped by late in the afternoon for just a bit, and I had no problem letting them sit in my living room amidst the disaster.  My oven was clean for heaven's sake!  That was success!

I called my mom who came over after she got off work to wrangle kids so I could finish the shave.  I even got in another shower before we bid Grandma farewell.  It was then that I remembered that I'd left the bathroom rugs on the clothesline in the back of the house.  

Frazier, Lily, Connor and I trooped around the house.  Frazier started tracking a rabbit into the neighbor's yard, Lily followed him, and Connor and I stood by the clothesline calling for them to come back.  At that very moment, I heard an "Excuse me," coming from the front of the house.

That lady who I sold that thing to off of buy-sell-trade was here to pick it up!  I got Lily, and she and Fraz trailed me to the side door where I showed the lady in and we made our exchange.  I walked her out, waved goodbye and returned to the den where I took a moment to look at what she saw.  

It was like a slow motion scene in a movie where the parents walk in and see the disaster made by the kids.  Stuff was EVERYWHERE.  How did I let that happen?  Kids clothes strewn all over amidst 3 different storage bins out to switch sizes in closets, bags from our shopping trip thrown on the floor, tools that I simply hadn't put away laying in easy reach of kids, and toys spewed out of their toy box like they were supposed to be omniscient - everywhere at once, and Lily's Hello Kitty tent, set up in the middle of it all.

I ran a bath for Lily, stuck Connor in his bouncy seat and started to dry my still wet hair all the while fretting about what this person (who I didn't even know) saw and, consequently, what she must think of me (I'm SURE she cleaned that thing she bought really well before she used it - I would have if I were her, though it wasn't dirty...).  I wanted to Facebook her before/after pictures of my dog and my oven with a note that these were my major accomplishments for the day.  Sure my house was a disaster, but the inside of my oven and outside of my dog looked great!

Then I glanced in the mirror:

Happy little faces.  Fed.  Content.  Clean (or at least getting there via bubble bath).  Mine.  Priceless. 

It seems like I must daily be reminded that these little faces - their hearts, their character, the essence of who they are and will become - are my priorities.  And while a certain level of sanity for me is essential to care for them well, in reality, my house, my oven, my dog, and what people think of me are small potatoes compared to them.  

Mommy of 2 seems to me like it gets harder rather than easier as the weeks go by.  I'm not really sure why. There's more to do, less time to do it, and each day I get farther away from the last time I really got a good night's sleep.  Maybe that's why.  It's bound to change at some point, right?  But. 

But it is sanctifying.  It is challenging.  It is wonderful.  It is hard.  It is worth it.  It is my life, a gift given by a graceful, loving God.  These challenges I face that feel so overwhelming in the moment are smaller than ant hills in the broad scheme of things.  I know that.  Especially to those of you who are facing real challenges.  Believe me, I know how small my challenges are at the moment.  I mean, just think what it must be like to be a mom of 3...  

I'm sorry.  I can't handle thinking about that right now.  Someday, maybe, I'll have to/get to think about *gulp* 3.  But for now, I'll just keep after it with 2, and praise the Lord that this is my life.

Exhaustion and suffering

Today, I wanted to do this all day:

I'm exhausted.  My body aches.  I am just plain tired.

(Side note:  I took those pictures on the way home from a trip to town to shop and see the doctor.  It was a 5 hour trip from the time we left the house till we pulled back into the drive.  The kids were SO tired.  Lily didn't wake up at all as I transferred her to her bed until her head touched the pillow.  At which point she informed me that she did not want to take a nap.  Of course you don't dear.  But you're falling asleep as you utter the last word of that sentence.  I think I'll leave you in bed...)

For supper tonight I ate 1/2 lb of Farmland bacon (literally 1/2 of a package, all by myself), some Greek yogurt with strawberries sliced into it, and some mashed potato casserole that included cream cheese, butter and cheese.

You may be wondering, "Why such a healthy, sensible weird fatty meal?"  Because there are only a few things I can eat that don't irritate my son's tiny tummy.  These were some of the few that I happened to have on hand.  (Must. Grocery shop. TOMORROW!)  And I don't think they're high energy foods, which might explain my exhaustion.

I'm not complaining.  In fact, I'm very thankful and overjoyed that I know what things irritate Connor's tummy, so I can avoid them.  I'll do what it takes to have a happy baby - it is Worth. It.  Holy cow!  I did not enjoy the few weeks he was fussy.

As I've taken lunches places, waited to eat till I got home, or eaten before going places, I've had to explain why I do such things to those I've been around.  Most say something along the lines of, "Wow.  That's intense.  I'm glad I didn't/don't have to do that."  That's a response I expect.  I'm ready for it.  I usually reply something to the effect of "it's worth it."

The less common response that I get when I explain my strange eating habits always surprises me.  It is when someone says, "Wow.  I would/did eat whatever I wanted and if the kid was fussy, then the kid was fussy."

Please hear me when I say that I'm not judging other mothers.  These are simply my thoughts.  As moms, parents, and individuals, we each have to do what we have to do in life.  If I was in a different situation, maybe I wouldn't be so willing to change my diet.  Yet the response of unwillingness to change a diet for a kids comfort and well being always catches me a little off-guard.

I'm sure I don't love my son more than these other moms love their kids.  I'm sure it's not that I'm more committed.  I'm not.

I read a blog today that a friend had posted on Facebook.  Here it is.  You should take a minute to read it:  Of Breastmilk and Suffering.

I'm not Catholic, but I love the insight this mama gives from the liturgy of Mass.  Motherhood and life aren't meant to be easy all the time.  Sometimes we are meant to suffer.  And sometimes suffering is good.  Sometimes suffering is exactly what God has for us.  Sometimes if "things aren't working for you" they're not supposed to be working for you, and that's part of God's plan.  The question is, can we follow in Christ's footsteps.  He who willingly suffered when He was called to suffer.  He who gave everything for the undeserving.  He who loves so perfectly.

I don't love perfectly.  Of that I am sure.  But changing what I eat for a short time - the blink of an eye, really - so my child is comfortable... that seems like such a minor thing.  A gift of love to him, really, rather than a cross for me to bear.

If you're a mama out there with a fussy infant, if you're trying something different because you believe it will benefit your littles or family, if you're suffering through something so much more intense than diet and babies, keep after it.  Perhaps, someday, you'll be able to look back on this suffering and see how it was sanctifying.  How it was molding.  How it was shaping, chiseling, sharpening, perfecting.  So that one day you could be more Christ-like.  And ultimately, isn't that the goal?  It probably won't look so much like suffering in light of that.  And won't that be so worth it?

Lilyisms and a little honesty

Lilyisms

The other day as we walked out of the kids' bedroom from putting Connor down for a nap, Lily turned around and whispered into the room, "Cry if you need me!"

Sometimes in the mornings when we get up, I let Lily watch an episode of Curious George while I shower. I get her all settled on the couch, turn on the TV and pull up Netflix.  When I scroll down to Curious George and click on it, she says to me, "You found it Mommy!  Good girl!"  

A couple of weeks ago we were getting settled at the kitchen table for breakfast. I gave Lily her muffin and she took a bite.  Then she turned to me and said, "It's so scrumptious!" 

A little honesty

I haven't blogged for almost a month.  It's not that there hasn't been topics to blog or memories I've wanted to record and share.  It's been that life has been overwhelming.  I was asked about 2 weeks ago by a friend if I'd enjoyed the first 4 weeks of Connor's life.  I just sort of mumbled around something about it being fine and Connor being wonderful and Lily being a great big sister.  

Later that night I completely lost it.  I just sat in the recliner and wept over my son.  I hadn't enjoyed the first 4 weeks.  They were hard.  Really hard.  And it was hard for me to be honest with myself and everyone else about that.  

I thoroughly enjoyed the early days with Lily.  She was easy.  She was predictable.  I knew what she needed before she did.  We clicked.  Not so with my little boy.  Even the nurses in the hospital couldn't console him that first night (they took him for an hour so we could get some rest.)  And the first few weeks at home were a pace-the-floor, bounce-and-sway, pray-he-goes-to-sleep-soon kind of time. 

I liked getting out because he seemed to be better when we got out.  But his little bottom was bright red with diaper rash, and he just screamed in pain (it seemed like to me) a lot of the time.  I didn't know how to fix it, how to console him, or what to give him to make him comfortable and happy.  I felt totally inept, and I didn't want to admit that.

At about 4 weeks old, we figured out that he had food allergies, pretty extensive ones.  So far, I believe that he has sensitivity and/or allergy to corn, corn syrup (which, incidentally is in EVERYTHING!), wheat, beans, broccoli, cauliflower, apples, any citrus fruit, chicken, eggs, blueberries, chocolate, caffeine and MSG (a food additive that is also in EVERYTHING).  He is (blessedly) NOT allergic pure dairy (there is an additive that comes from the same source as MSG that is in most dairy, so I have to only get certain kinds, but at least I can have butter, ice cream, sour cream cottage cheese, yogurt, and milk!)  

It took a while to figure out what in the world I could eat.  My diet consist mostly of ham, beef, rice, dairy, potatoes, sweet potatoes, squash, carrots, and today I tried asparagus - we'll see how that goes.

I'm not complaining.  Seriously, anything is better than watching your newborn contort in pain because his belly hurts and knowing that it's because of something you ate!  It stinks to only be able to feed him milk that's going to give him indigestion!!!  

For the last two weeks Connor has been happy, content, and I finally feel like I am falling in love!  I am getting to know my son and not just trying to console my baby in pain.  I also finally feel like a "good mom" - like I know what I'm doing and can give my son what he needs.

It wasn't all bad, but it was rough.  I just have to acknowledge that.  

Other Francl news

Lily got her first haircut, and here's what it looked like:

She spent most of the haircut trying to turn around to see what I was doing.  It made actually giving the haircut very challenging...

And here's my little man.  He's actually not so little.  In the 70th percentile for weight and over the 90th percentile for height.  Looks like he's going to be tall, folks!

 

Connor will be 6 weeks old tomorrow, and I can honestly say that life is good.  It's not perfect, and I don't always get it right.  But it is good.