Christmas Magic

Children bring back the true meaning of Christmas. All of a sudden, the magic of Christmas is back. You begin to trust in the goodness of others again. You see "all the pretty lights" and trees, wreaths and bows again, instead of the throngs of shoppers and crazy last minute drivers. You believe again.

This was Piper's first year to participate in what has been a family tradition with the women of my family. Every year since our first Christmas in Arizona (1987), my mom has taken my sister and I to see the Nutcracker Ballet. That first year was the most special. My parents were feeling low because it was a lower-key Christmas than we were used to. My mom happened to win 2 tickets to the Nutcracker. My mom, sister and I took our chances and went to the show that night hoping to possibly get a third ticket. That we did, and the tradition took hold. Each year we looked forward to the event. But even more than the event, we looked forward to our own celebration of the bond between the three DeWitt women. I believe each year at our Nutcracker dinner there were tears in our eyes for one reason or another. Sometimes tears of joy, sometimes tears of sadness, sometimes tears because we were laughing so hard. Each time they were tears that bonded us even closer.

My mother-in-law, Annetta, Piper and I were waiting for the show to start. I can hardly describe the feeling of joy I had while sitting in our nose-bleed seats this year with my three year old daughter by my side. She, so excited to see "REAL ballerinas" and me, so grateful to be able to carry on the tradition with my daughter(s). This year, tears of joy. I only wish my mom and sister could have shared the moment.

The curtain went up and the three year old was still. (This, a feat.) I won't lie and say she was enthralled for the entire 2 hour show. She is three, after all. But there were moments of pure Christmas magic. To see "REAL ballerinas" dancing on that big stage! ("Can I dance up there mommy?" she asked. She also asked her Daddy before the show if ballerinas poop, but that didn't really contribute to the magic of the moment.) To see the snow fall inside! The costumes! Then after the show, the "REAL" ballerinas were in the hall in costume. Piper looked upon them with almost as much awe as she did Santa.

I don't know if Piper will remember this show. But I know she will remember the tradition, because as long as they are interested, the Ramsey girls will carry it on. And maybe one special year, the DeWitt women can join us too.

I am so grateful to my girls for making me believe again. To make Christmas magical again. Thank you baby girls. I love you.

Hoorah for Boobies!

My name is Mia and I am a breast feeder. I am not a Nazi breast feeder, shoving my boobies down everyone I know's throat. But I believe wholly in breast feeding and am glad I have been able to do it. It is a wonderful experience. One I'm proud to have participated in and am ready....to be done with. Ugh. It is really great. But. sigh. It gets a little old. At first, you have this little peanut cuddling against your belly getting all the nourishment she needs to LIVE. It's amazing. It's so fulfilling. It's a little ego boosting - YOU are this child's LIFE support. And...it's a little restricting. It changes your boobies. It makes them small, sad and saggy.

Don't get me wrong. I have loved breast feeding, and still do, at times. But I can't deny that I have moments when I daydream of the day I'm done with breast feeding. I can see me running around naked shaking my tatas screaming, "They're MINE! ALL MINE!!!!!". I'm not kidding. I actually had that day dream today while pumping at work.

When you become a mother there is so much of yourself that you give up. Your work out time, your time with your hubby, much- or all- of your professional self, your ME time. I don't think you anticipate how much of your body you give up. Your lap becomes as desirable as front row seats for Madonna. Your hair becomes a toy. Your mouth becomes this sanitized recorder that says only "What do you say? How do you ask? You have 5 minutes before....." The back of your knee becomes a crutch for a needy 3 year old.

But never did I realize how personal this complete take-over would be. My boobies. My breasts. My tatas are no longer..........mine.

I have been struggling lately with continuing breast feeding or to stop. My goal is to make it 12 months. As far as Quinn is concerned, it could go either way. Both my girls were that way. (I'm trying to NOT take that personally.) On one hand, I want what's best for my baby. Going into Flu season, it'd be best for her to get all those antibodies for a few more months. It's SO much more convenient - no bottles to make, no mess, no bottles to wash. It's cheaper. It allows me to eat ice cream more than I really NEED to.

But. (sigh) Pumping at work. The Guilt (THE GUILT) associated with missing a feeding. The crying at my breast while she waits (impatiently) for the milk to come down. The distracted 9 month old who needs to check out everything her 3 year old sister is doing while clamping my nipple in her mouth. The TEETHING 9 month old who likes pressure on her gums (ie: BITING THE NIPPLE). The sweet caresses from the girl while she eats that turn into the pinching of the OTHER nipple and trying to pull THAT one into her mouth as well. That's fun. The fact that it becomes a "no fly zone" in the bedroom. (Never to be flown again, by the way. At least as far as I'm concerned!).

To be honest. I don't always love it. I'm not a "Le Leche League" nazi. I am grateful I have the equipment that works, children that know how to use it and a support network to make it possible. But I understand women who choose to not breast feed. It IS an invasion of your self. It is a selfless sharing of your most personal parts.

But, it is not completely selfless.

There are those sweet, sweet moments when it's just you and her. In a quiet room. She's curled like a comma around you. Her eyes flutter closed as she receives nourishment from your body. (How AMAZING it is that YOU are her only nourishment for so long!) Her soft, long, beautiful eyelashes land on her soft, round cheeks as she slowly stops feasting. Belly full. Her mouth trembles to a stop, her lips still pursed. My breast glides out of her mouth and her sweet little lips stay pursed, holding the memory of that connection. (sigh). This is good stuff. How blessed I am that I can experience this with my baby girl? Ok. Motivated again. I can do this. What's 3 more months? I spent 3 months IN BED for this little being. I can do THIS. HOORAH for Boobies!

Tears of Joy

We went to a beautiful wedding this weekend of a couple who are truly "meant to be". You know, the kind of couple you watch saying their vows with absolute sincerity, as if they were the only two people in the room. The kind of union where you find yourself dreaming of their kids-to-come, and all the highs and lows they'll face, and survive, as a couple. And you KNOW they'll survive. They just have the right kind of connection. Getting ready to leave the house, I almost decided not to bring a purse - because unlike most women, I hate the extra baggage. Then I decided I didn't want to leave my phone, so I grabbed my "wedding purse" and off we went. As we were watching the ceremony, I got emotional and teary eyed (never fails) and opened my purse to find my "wedding handkerchief". It's a beautiful handkerchief that my sister gave me for her wedding. I got to thinking about it. It's only been used at weddings. It's stains are only from tears of joy. Think of all the wonderful stories that will have begun when it wiped those happy tears from my eyes. All the laughter, all the sorrow, all the bumps in the road that life throws a married couple, the beginning of a new family. All those things started with a beautiful moment that made people who witnessed it, at least me, cry tears of joy.

I was speaking with someone the other day about marriage. She stated that she thought there wasn't just one person for each person. I have to say, it's probably true. I don't know that everyone meets, falls in love with and marries their soul mate. But it's not only the soul mates who end up very happily married for 50+ years. I believe, when you marry someone you make a choice. You make a choice to make it work. You make a choice to be happy. And you have to continue to make that choice. You have to continue to reevaluate what it is that makes you feel content in your marriage - because it will change. And you have to DISCUSS these things with your chosen mate. And often you have to agree to disagree and love each other anyway. And often you have to give more than you get. But you must know that your mate will do the same for you.

Now, I'm not saying that some marriages that end shouldn't end. I don't think every marriage will work out or should work out. But I do think that too often people think that marriages just....happen. They don't. They require care. They require work. (If you doubt this, have children.) They need to be fed with laughter and compassion. They require more than just love. Have you ever accomplished a goal that you worked really hard on and felt that elation of accomplishment? Have you ever gotten something you didn't work very hard for and felt as happy? My point is that all this work and effort you put in, you get back 10 fold. I know I am blessed to have found my partner. I also know that we work to keep it as good as it can be.

I so dearly hope that all those tears of joy that my handkerchief has seen are the beginnings of such happy lives full of love, laughter and a healthy dose of work. :)

Moments

Life is made up of the moment's right? Here are some of mine recently:

Here's how we got to this moment: Piper and Mackenzie are playing in the basement. By what they are saying I can tell they are drawing. I yell down, "Piper, drawing only on paper, right?"

Piper: "........yeah......"

Here's where that mom's nagging intuition kicked in... Just a little too late. I come downstairs to see that they were playing make-up artist. And having a ball. After I finished laughing, took their picture and handed a colored Mackenzie back over the fence to her mother who was also laughing (THANK GOD) with promises that the markers are non-toxic, I sternly said to Piper, "Markers are for PAPER ONLY." Then left the room to laugh some more.

This was a morning recently where Piper sat down to play with Quinn who is new to sitting on her own. I was in and out of the room doing laundry. At one point Piper put down the the toy she was shaking dangerously close to Quinn's face and said, "I'll keep you safe Quinny" as she gave her a big hug.

It's cool enough in the mornings to dress up like pink teddy bears now. She was so sweet this morning. She was up early, therefore so was I. I decided to go for a run before Piper and Brooks got up. So I bundled her up and off we went. She "chatted" to me the whole time then sweetly drifted off to sleep for the last few minutes. She was so peaceful and cozy looking, so I walked around the block to have a few more minutes of that sweetness....

Really. Do I need to comment on this one? Well I guess if I didn't like to comment, I wouldn't have a blog. So I will comment. Watching my mom with my girls fills my heart to bursting. We've always had such a strong girly-bond in my family, my mom, sister and I. And to see that bond carried on with my two baby girls is satisfying beyond words.

These sweet times are brought to you by Piper and Quinn Ramsey. :) Enjoy.

Dream Girl

This morning Piper was looking at pictures on our screen saver. One of the pictures was me doing "Swing and a Prayer" where you get strapped in to a harness and swing by a steel cable that has been pulled up 35 feet in the air. She said "Is that you flying?"

"yes!" I said.

"Can I fly some day?"

"I know you WILL fly some day Piper."

"Can I wear my tutu when I fly?"

Thank God for my little dreamer.

Happy Birthday Piper!

Wow, 3 years old on August 8. What an amazing age. This girl can actually articulate what she is thinking, and sometimes, what I am thinking. She can dress herself. She can pee and poo on the potty. She can feed herself and even choose what she wants to eat. She has opinions - a lot of them. She has painted finger- and toenails. She laughs at jokes and silly faces. She makes jokes and silly faces to get you to laugh. She can do puzzles. She can write the letter "H". She can sing the alphabet and count to 20. She can color in the lines. She can give the most amazing hugs. She can tell me she loves me. She can tell me where it hurts. She has friends. She IS a HUMAN!!!???

This year, Piper REALLY "got it" - the whole birthday thing. She talked about her princess cake for a whole week leading up to her party. She actually asked for something specific for a birthday present. (Can you guess? A ballerina outfit. And I had actually already purchased a Tutu for her to wear on her birthday - do I know my little girl or what???!) She knew who all was coming to her party (Mackenzie, Mackenzie, Mackenzie, and some other people). She knew they would all bring gifts. She knew they would sing "Happy Birthday" to her. She definitely "gets" birthdays now.

When did my little girl get so big? This birthday is a little bittersweet. The past two birthdays, I have to admit, I sighed a little (just a little) sigh of relief that the year had passed. Now, I feel like I'm holding on with my fingernails to each second I can. I'm sure this is partly due to the presence of little Quinn, who makes me realize how quickly Piper is growing up. It's not that I don't look forward to what's to come - I do. I am just so conscious of the passing of THIS moment. The last three years have happened in the blink of an eye.

This past weekend I went on a spa get-away with my closest gal pals. We went to Miraval in Tuscon AZ. (check it out: http://www.miravalresort.com/ .....AWESOME!) The place is all about "mindfulness". In short, being present in the here and now. Appreciate each moment for the experience that it is, good or bad. One interpretation of this in my everyday life is to be present in these moments with my kids. Piper's 3rd birthday was not about me or any of my hangups or longings for her to slow down the growing-up. It was about Piper, as she is at 3 (see paragraph one). Perfect because she just is who she is. Happy Birthday love bug - you are my sunshine.

Ouch!

I don't think you can know how painful empathy can be until you're a mom. When she stubs her toe -oooh, I just wish I could soak up that pain for her. When she feels disappointed that she had an accident in her pants, I acutely remember the humiliation of my most recent accident (not, actually, that long ago....pregnancy does wonders for your "parts". Actually I think it's the delivery that does you in, but back to Piper......) But when someone else hurts your child's feelings, ouch. THAT really hurts. Like a knife twisting in your gut.

Recently we were at a party with a bunch of kids. These kids were all new to Piper. I was so proud of how she just jumped in to play with them - a brave thing for an almost-three-year-old to do. All the kids were playing nicely when all of a sudden Piper comes running up SOBBING. I was sure she cut a finger off or some other horribly painful circumstance had occurred. Well I was right, but it wasn't physical pain she was feeling. When I finally got her to calm down enough to tell me what was wrong she said, in between sobs, "they-don't-want-to-play-with-me-sob, sob, sob". She was nearly hyperventilating she was so upset. Oh. My. God. I've never felt so much pain. I knew it was just kids being kids. I knew they were all getting along fine and the kids liked Piper. I also knew that SHE didn't know that. She's still figuring out how this friendship thing works. To her, this was the end of the world. And now what? What am I supposed to do to help make this right without over-parenting and yet not have my child scarred for life??? I thought I was getting the hang of this parenting thing when WHAM, and OUCH! I told Piper that I was sure they didn't mean what they said (whatever it was) and that they liked playing with her. I offered to hold her hand and walk back over to the kids with her. Thankfully, my brave little girl agreed. We went back over there and with very little encouragement and a little hesitation, she joined in again. After a couple minutes she stopped looking over to see if I was standing there and she was having fun again. Phew. She's not, yet, ruined for life.

In the past, before I had my own kids, I sympathized with mothers I knew who expressed how painful it was to see your child get hurt. Never did I anticipate how acutely it would hurt me. Remember how it felt when it - rejection in some form or another- happened to you as a kid? Multiply that times 100 and you're getting close.

I never seem to reach the peak of the parent learning curve. It's okay though, I am loving the journey. I've always liked learning.

I remember when I was 12, shortly after we moved to Arizona from Wisconsin (read: CULTURE SHOCK) how I was having a hard time fitting in with the crowd I thought I should be friends with. I was a bit shy and a lot uncertain. The kids were saying I was "stuck-up". I guess that's how I was seen because I was fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing. I was so shocked when I heard that and I couldn't figure out how they were interpreting my actions as "stuck-up". All I knew was that it meant I wasn't making friends. My mom and I have always been close and I confided this to her. Her suggestion was that I smile more. My first reaction to her suggestion was something akin to "WTF mom?", but in appropriate 7th grader lingo. "I'm not going to look like a GOOBER walking around with a dumb smile on my face for no reason MOM!" She took it in stride and suggested I keep smiling "on the inside". For some reason this silly, Carol Brady suggestion worked. I had nothing to lose so I "smiled on the inside" like a big-ole goober (on the inside) and people started to turn around. They realized I wasn't stuck-up. They started talking to me and I made friends. Some of whom I have to this day. How'd she know what to say?

I guess at that point in my life, my mom knew me better than anyone else alive. Probably still does to some degree. She felt my pain as acutely as I felt Piper's and she just knew what I needed to hear, the attitude I needed to take, to turn things around for myself. God I hope I can do that for my girls. I hope I can find the words to empower them to find their own solutions, to fix their own mistakes, to make friends out of "enemies", to believe in themselves and love themselves as much as I love them. I think maybe the answers to these sorts of parenting dilemmas aren't in the books (oh crap). Maybe they are in ourselves (oh boy, this is getting deep). They are in our own histories, our own experiences, our own pain. They are in our own successes and failures. I guess I just have to learn to believe in myself, once again. To trust that I'll do my best and hope that most of the time, I'll get it right. These are the most important choices, decisions, actions I've made in my life. Sometimes I believe that all I've learned so far in life, I've learned in preparation for being a mom, my most challenging and rewarding role to date. And if it means my kids are happy, healthy, and that they love and respect themselves, I'll look like a big ole goober any day. Even on the outside.

Little Brother, Big Man

My very good friend Kristin recently lost her 27 year old little brother tragically when a small plane he was piloting went down shortly after take off. He left behind not only Kristin and her family, but his own budding little family: his wife Lauren and his daughter MacKenzie who was born in June, a couple of months after his death. As Kristin lives in Arizona I hadn't been able to put my arms around her and give her the hug I've been wanting to give her since I heard the news until yesterday. We met up to camp with our families for one night while they were in Colorado to see other family.

Speaking with her of her loss brought back strong feelings of the loss of my Dad. I asked her, "Do you feel him with you sometimes?". She answered, without hesitation, "all the time". Me too. I feel my Dad's presence, not all the time, but often. Grief is a funny thing. It doesn't hit you all at once. It hits you a week after the tragedy. A month after. 2 years after when your first daughter is born. 4 years later when your second daughter is born. It doesn't really stop. It gets less painful, less bitter, more sweet. But I don't think you ever fill that emptiness that he filled. It becomes less of a pothole in your soul and more of a crack in the sidewalk, but those cracks help make up who we are. Those cracks of emptiness make us complete as human beings who have loved deeply, unconditionally, and lost tragically.

Kristin showed me a picture of Brian's daughter MacKenzie. She is her daddy. Sometimes when I look in Quinn's blue, blue eyes, I see my daddy. They have both left their footprints here. The thought of MacKenzie never getting to know her daddy hurts. The thought of how his wife Lauren has to move on and can't stop to grieve because she's now a mommy - alone - there really are no words to express that sadness.

Brian lived his life completely and passionately. Kristin said, almost as if he knew his life would be cut short. MacKenzie's short life is already blessed with family that will shower her with love and help her to know her daddy as well as she can. I know her daddy is with her. Just as he is with Kristin and Lauren and his parents. The ones we love never completely leave us. They might go away for awhile, but they return. Usually when you need them most and don't even know it.

Kristin, Lauren, MacKenzie - Brian was a wonderful man, full of passion, energy, humor and love. I'm so sorry for your loss. Embrace your grief, go ahead a lose it when you need too. And then remember how he lived.

Holy CRAP!

Hallelujah! Piper POOPED on the Potty!!!! WOO HOO! You have no idea how I've dreamed of this day! She ASKED to go and then she WENT! Then she turned around, looked at it, leaned down and.......Smelled it. Yes ladies and gentleman, my daughter smelled her own poop. BUT, the poop was IN THE POTTY. Let's not lose sight of this accomplishment. After smelling the first tiny little turd she sat back down and went to work. After every little nugget she got up, turned around and admired her work. She was SO proud of herself. I am SO proud of her. The best part of all this is that I've been promising her new dress up shoes if she goes poopy on the potty. The poopy wasn't happening and I want so badly to get rid of her old dress up shoes. I was trying to think of a way I could get her those shoes without making it seem like I didn't think she'd ever poop on the potty (I admit, I had a moment or two of doubt). Now I can throw out those nasty old red sparkly dress up shoes that she has worn to pieces! Well, maybe the best part is not having to wipe poop off her bum anymore, but the new dress up shoes is a close second. Yes, I took this picture to commemorate the moment. It could be worse. I have heard of women taking pictures of the poop itself and I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind. If you don't understand this, you haven't struggled with potty training. But this is a much cuter picture, don't you think?

Relentless

My Brother-in-law Frank once said to me, "Parenthood is relentless isn't it?". Uh, yes. I can't help but admit that word has been floating around in my head since he mentioned it. Yes. Relentless, nonstop, ongoing, endless................etc. We decided to push Piper's bedtime back to 8:00 this summer. There are some really great things about that. It's closer to being dark. We have about 2 hours with her alone after Quinn goes down - and she deserves that one on one time. I don't have to hurry to get both kids in bed between 6 and 7. And she actually goes to sleep when we put her in bed. Well sometimes.

However. Moving bedtime from 7 to 8 means we're "on" for one more hour. Which means I get about one hour of "me" or "us" time before I poop out and head for bed myself. Last night I think I feel asleep before Piper did! Then we get up when the kids get up (which is way too early) and start it all over again. Then there's the laundry, the house work, cooking, errands to run, grocery shopping (anyone else go to the grocery store 6x a week?) play dates, swim lessons, all while trying to be a good mommy. There are days, literally, where I have 10 minutes while both girls are down for a nap before one gets up. Believe it or not, I can fall asleep during that time. I can be out COLD for those 10 precious minutes. But more often than not, I'm catching up on laundry, paying bills or one of the other millions of things we have to get done. It's a rat race. And Brooks is right there with me - what would I do if he wasn't??? Oy.

That's life as a parent. At least MY life as a parent. But life is so full and rich now. It feels complete. Having life like this makes you really enjoy those small little moments that if life were slower, you'd take for granted. Things like reading a book to one of my girls before bed. Dinner's done, bath time's over, it's just her and I cuddling and reading. Or sitting on the patio with a fire in the fire pit and talking to my husband. Actually communicating. Catching up with each other. "Oh yeah! I forgot how much I like this guy." (Isn't it funny that you have to "catch-up" with your husband whom you live with?) Or having a few extra minutes to stop at Starbucks on your way to work. Or having time to write in your blog. Or taking those 10 precious minutes to "nap" or read a magazine. Or an HOUR away to do yoga and just breathe.

Life is really in the moments anyway isn't it? 10 years from now, I won't remember the specifics of the rat race. I'll remember those precious moments. Probably not the ones reading a magazine or stopping at Starbucks, but the cuddle time. How special it is to have a night alone with my husband. The moments where we just dropped what we were doing to play "tickle monster". The impromptu cookie making messes. You know the good stuff.

So, relentless? Yes. But also so rich, so full of laughter, so sweet, so perfect.

My brothers-in-law are about to become parents themselves (which we are so excited about!). They will soon know the perfect relentlessness of life with kids. And they will love it too.

Go Fish

Piper is getting anxious to be able to play with Quinn. They played cards the other day, but after awhile of Quinn just drooling on her cards, Piper decided maybe mommy would be a better partner. But she tried. Today, Piper met a new friend. This girl, Alexa, struck Piper's fancy big-time. She took charge. She spoke up when she wanted something. Everyone around knew she was present. She gave big aggressive hugs and kisses, that could almost be called tackles. AND she had a really pretty princess dress.

I found it interesting how much Piper liked this little girl. And also how Piper started to speak up and say what SHE wanted after being around Alexa for a little while. It was like this girl was the inner Piper. The one that doesn't get quiet and take 2 hours to warm up to people - even friends she's familiar with. The one that says what she thinks, loudly, and when she wants to say it. I could see this girl playing center for the Denver Broncos in 20 years,- possibly in a princess dress. What does it all mean? Probably nothing. What Ying hasn't been, at some time in her life, attracted to her Yang? Sometimes we need to face our polar opposites to give us courage to branch out of our comfort zone. To see that it's ok. And to see that what we are is good and special and sometimes better.

Well, I love my introspective little P-bear just the way she is. "Quiet", "Shy", what ever you want to call her. She's full of love, compassion, humor, fun and laughter. Sometimes it just takes a Broncos Center to get it out of her.

Happy Mother's Day

I was once asked why I wanted to have kids. I honestly couldn't come up with an answer - and I felt really bad about that. But I just knew I did. I'm not sure that actually is a question you can answer completely until you have kids. Then you get moments all day long where you go, "THIS is why I wanted kids. For this moment right now." For the moment when I walk into Piper's room after a nap to find her reading quietly, such a big girl, in her big girl bed. I feel so proud. For the moment when Quinn ALMOST laughs because I kissed her soft little belly. For the soft little belly. For the fingers and toes. For the dress-up and playing "Baby". For going potty in the toilet, and for having another accident but wanting to try again. For the kisses from big sister to little sister. For the "hugs for my family". For the "I love you, good night, go to sleep!"-s. For the boogers on the wall that she helps me clean up. For the fuzzy hair after a bath. For the bedtime stories, and just one more. For the silly songs. For the Eskimo, Butterfly and Fish kisses. For the successes and failures. For new friendships. For learning about being left out. For the laughs when the wind blows our hair into funny styles. For the flowers she picks for me, from our neighbor's garden (oops!). For the piggy back rides, airplane rides on my legs, and lion-walks up the stairs. For the cute little hiccups. For the funny toots. For the soft round cheeks and deep blue and brown eyes that say it all. For the quivering lip. For the irresistible giggle. For the goofball dancing when she's supposed to be eating. For the pig tails. For the bed head. For the cuddles when she's just not ready to get up and face the world. For toothless grins. For spit bubbles. For silly bows on bald heads. For 3 hour naps and for 30 minute naps that end with a giant smile because she's just so happy to see me. And a million other moments.

Us mothers are so lucky. There is nothing like mommy when you're hurt, sad, or blue. There's nothing like a mommy's hug to make everything feel alright. We get to be that person. We get to show our little ones all the wonders of the world. And it's up to us to put our own special spin on it. And in return we get their own special spin on the world. We get to see life through pure innocent eyes once more. We get questions that make us think: "Huh, I don't KNOW why." And questions that make us laugh: "Daddy, did you toot?" And statements that make us face the facts: "There's a baby in your belly mommy!". No, it's just called a "gut" now..... Yes, we also get thrown up on, peed on, pooped on, boogered on. But WE get those wondrous moments while pregnant when you feel the little one kick for the first time. WE get that amazing experience of giving birth. WE get (yes, we GET) those middle of the night feedings where we get to cuddle with no distractions. Just you and me kiddo.

Being a mom is the hardest thing I've ever done. It's also the most wondrous. The most rewarding. The most character building. The most honest. The thing I'm most proud of. So, Here's to my mom, who showed me how to love unconditionally. Here's to all my mom friends who are my saviours on a daily basis and who will always have a story to share to make me feel better. Here's to all the new moms who are finally realizing WHY they wanted to have kids. And here's to all future moms, you're in for the ride of your life. :)

Potty Break

I sometimes feel like an auctioneer. Or a flea market entrapeneur. Some days, everything with a two year old, at least MY two year old, is a bribe. "If you stay in the cart in the store you can ride the horsey at the end", "If you don't put your shoes on right now- the ones WITHOUT red sparkles and a heel - we are NOT going to the park!" "You may have pizza AFTER you eat 2 pieces of broccoli!". Do I hear three pieces? Three pieces anyone, anyone three - don't pass up this deal- you may never see another like it! FOUR! four pieces. Anyone? Anyone?... Why doesn't she just do what I say because I SAID SO?!!! Doesn't she know by now that I am RIGHT?! - Always right. No questions. What happens when I run out of bargaining chips? What happens when she no longer cares about going to the park? what happens when she'd RATHER stay home and wear her sparkly red shoes? Then I never get to leave the house - NO! There must be a better way.

Well the truth is, I'm not always right. (I know, you may need to pause to catch your breath now, go ahead. Ok ready for more shocking news?) I DO make mistakes. I'm not always sure where I go wrong, but some days, I DO know I'm not doing SOMEthing right. The other morning I cleaned up 4, yes FOUR, accidents. 3 #1's, and 1 #2. - yep. That was the day I decided we were going to do this potty training thing, by golly. I got M&Ms for yet more bribery, which I didn't think I'd have to do. I talked Piper into making the "Choice" to wear big girl panties, all 3 pair that we wore this AM. (After the last accident I gave up and she went commando - sometimes you're just done.) I think there are some things you just can't bargain. No one gets to say "poop!" until you're good and ready to poop. It's just hard to imagine actually preferring to sit in your own brown trout than to set it free in the sewers where it can live out it's life happily among others just like it. But. I'm not 2 going on 3. And. I have control over more things in my life than whether I pee in my pants or the toilet. That's what it's all about ladies and gents. Control. At least at this point. Which is why, we are taking, yet another, break from potty training. Or mommy training as we should call it.

All Things Spring

Tulips. Green grass. Allergies. Flip flops. Picnics. Kite flying. And most interesting to Piper, Bugs. She has discovered Bugs. They move! They fly! They are EVERYWHERE! To that end, they are in our house. At least A bug is in our house. A spider. A big one. I don't like spiders. I'm a little afraid of the ugly arachnoid to be honest. But I don't want to pass that fear on if possible - fear being a learned behavior to some degree and all. So I am trying to feign interest in front of Piper. I'm trying to look at it scientifically. I have my degrees in science based subjects after all. Bugs are just bugs. Spiders are just spiders....with eight, hairy, creepy legs and a big, fat, round, creepy body, and eyes - let's not go there.
Today, we spent the morning tracking the spider from the vaulted ceiling to her home (EWWWWWWWWWW!) complete with offspring (EWWWWWWWW!) in the corner of my living room. Writing about this is making my nose itch. Piper named the spider. Her name is "Fly". Why did I encourage this? You do realize, I now have to look at Fly as a pet. I cannot kill Fly. I cannot release Fly into the wild - what would her babies (again, EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!) do without her? What am I doing?
Where did this irrational fear of spiders come from? I don't know. My mom isn't really all that creeped out by spiders. I'm sure she doesn't relish the thought of sharing her space with them, but she can rid herself of them without a pep talk before and psycho-therapy after. (And, by the way, the animated Charlotte - of "Charlotte's Web" did NOTHING to warm me to spiders. She was creepier than any I've seen in real life.)
And HOW am I really going to keep my fear unnoticed. I mean really. Piper isn't dumb - far from it. She knows when I'm sad. She knows when I'm mad. I'm sure she knows when I'm about to crap my pants. (I wish she knew when SHE was about to crap her pants - but that's another subject.)
Maybe a little dose of fear is good though. There ARE spiders that WILL hurt you. Fly is PROBABLY not one of them, but you make friends with one and before you know it, you're hosting "Spiders Gone Wild, 2008".
I guess I can deal with having Fly around. After all, she's more afraid of me than I am of her, right? And her little babies, they won't leave her cozy little nest. Right?.....RIGHT?! WHAT? They will scatter like the little baby Charlottes with parachutes (going "weeeeee!") in "Charlotte's Web" all the way up to my bed???!! (I guess that movie really scarred me.) Ok, ok, breathe. I can have Brooks kill Fly tomorrow. Piper will never know. I'm an awful mother. One with real fears and a very itchy nose and a need to sleep without worrying about baby spiders invading my space. Or snakes. Or cockroaches, GOD. I better stop now.

My girls

Although I started this blog as an outlet for myself and often use it in that way, I know someday my girls will read this and I also look at this as a journal of sorts for them to see their childhood through my point of view. Perhaps more helpful and funny when they become mothers themselves, if they are so lucky. I've been feeling so incredibly blessed and blissful about my children lately and wanted to write something to them to try to express how I'm feeling.

Piper, my first, my girl. Your big brown eyes and eye lashes that go on for miles just melt me. Your sweet nature and intrinsic love for your sister, your dogs, your friends makes me burst with love for you. You are at such a fun age. You make me laugh all day long with your antics, your "tickle kisses" (that I used to play with MY mommy), your grown up play and your goofiness that comes straight from the heart. I see myself (and your daddy) in you. Some days when we go to the park, you are all thrill seeker. Running without stopping, sliding without hesitation, joining in with other kids you don't even know. And some days, like today, you need your mommy by your side every step of the way. You like to sit back and watch the other kids. You like to take the slides on a lap instead of head first. You stay on the swings forever, because it's a good view of all that is happening around you. Sometimes I'd swear you're a Gemini. In any case, you are a lot like your mommy. Sometimes jumping right in and sometimes, not so sure of yourself and hanging on to your security. I rejoice when I see you jump in and I sometimes worry when I see you hang back. I was painfully shy for some time while I was young and I don't want you to suffer that. But I also want you to be true to yourself, so I don't force you to cross out of your comfort zone. You'll learn to do it on your own, I did. And one thing I learned along the way is that hanging back and observing sometimes is more genuine. When you make a friend, it's because you really like them. You teach me so much about being a parent every day. It's not about telling you what NOT to do, it's about telling you what you do right. Which, is a lot. I'm learning that you don't need much, but you do need some special time for just you every day. You need time to not be "Piper the big sister" but just to be Piper, my girl. And I'm sorry for the days when I can't seem to find the time to make that happen. You ARE my girl. And I AM so blessed to have you. Thank you, Love, for being such a good big sister, for eating your veggies, for making my laugh and for being "my girl".

Quinn (Our Quinny) you are so little still, but already have stolen my heart. When that sweet lower lip starts to stick out, that frown can be turned to a smile with such ease. Your big blue (will they stay blue??) eyes see it all and soak it all in. I love to watch you discover your hands, your mouth, your toys, your mommy, daddy and sister. You already sense comfort in your big sister. She calms you and it's only the beginning of that - take it from me, I know how comforting a big sister can be. I love how your fuzzy blond-ish hair sticks straight out after your bath. I love your soft, soft cheeks. I love your roly poly thighs. I love your goofy toothless grin and LOVE when you scrunch up your nose in what I think will become your giggle. I love your thoughtful gaze that takes it all in. Thank you for bringing that baby sweetness into our lives one last time. And thank you for reminding me to slow down and enjoy today for today.

My girls, don't grow up too fast okay?

Renaissance Man

My mom lays claim to the title "Renaissance Man". It is what she calls my husband. It's true. I don't know how I got so lucky. In this modern day, men still often play the role of provider and part time dad. And so many of those part time dads only do the fun stuff. Take them to a movie, a park, play in the back yard. My Renaissance Man does it all. Sorry to brag ladies, but it's true. I sometimes feel ashamed that I depend on him so much. I feel I should be more, do more. I should be able to handle a day like yesterday - which was a constant mom/2 year old power struggle, and I mean CONSTANT - without losing my temper and without disappearing completely when Daddy gets home. Is it fair that he works all day with 6th graders - yes, 6TH GRADERS- and comes home to Crazy Eyes 3 or 4 times a week? Is it fair that I get a free pass to go to the gym, or where ever, every night while he does duty? I don't know, but some days I feel like I take advantage. I really admire those moms who, although they would like a break, can survive without one and still raise admirable kids.

We're nearing the end of my maternity leave and, again, I'm realizing I NEED to work. I am so grateful to work part time so I can be more than a shadow in my kids lives. BUT I NEED to work. We're not talking financial need here. We're talking sanity. I love my kids so much and MAN do I love spending time with them. But when mommy doesn't do things to make her feel like a complete person, Mommy is NOT a good Mommy. Does that make me a Bad Mommy? I guess while married to Mr. Renaissance, it's ok. We balance each other out. How did I get so lucky? He fills in my gaps and I his. Here are some examples:

-He loses the pacifier for the 500th time today, I always know where a spare is.

-I have crazy eyes when he walks in the door, he immediately takes the baby from my arms and redirects Piper while sending me out the door before my head starts to spin.

-I set out meat for dinner with no idea what we'll do with it, he turns it into Chicken Fajitas.

-He wakes up late, yet again, and I begrudgingly get out of bed even though the baby is actually sleeping in to help get Piper ready (even though it's "his job") so they can get out the door. I don't do this graciously. Grumbling occurs. (I am so spoiled.)

I'm leaving with the girls next week to Arizona and as I was looking in the fridge today in preparation for my (seems like) daily trip to the grocery store the thought went through my mind, "I'm not going to get milk because the milk drinkers will be gone, but I should get stuff for Brooks to eat next week". The next thought was "He can go to the store and get what he wants for himself." I think I get so worn out taking care of the kids that I forget that, although he doesn't need or expect it, it would probably feel nice to Brooks to be taken care of once in awhile. But the difference between Brooks and Non-Renaissance men is that he'd agree that he can go to the store on his own and wouldn't want me to worry about it.

So despite the guilt I feel when other moms I know talk about the beautiful dinners they make for their husbands, or the arts and crafts projects they do with their kids all while maintaining beautiful, clean, germ-free households, I know our kids will turn out ok because we are a team. Together we make it work. I can be who I am, and part of that is being an ok mom, because Brooks is the amazing man/husband/father that he is. And it's ok if the house is a mess for a few more years. Brooks will get to it eventually. :)

Ker-Plunk

I dropped my cell phone in the potty. KER-PLUNK. Yep. Ever have a ker-plunk kind of day? And no, it was not BEFORE I went. The fact that urine is sterile is little consolation to me. The funny thing is, the first day after it dried out and started to work again, every time I flipped it open it called my brother in law.

Fortunately, that is not how every day goes. Piper is finding her groove as a big sister. She does some really cute things like every time Quinn hiccoughs she says "QUINN!" really loudly, then Quinn hiccoughs again leading Piper to believe she is making Quinn hiccough by calling her name. She often offers Quinn her "humidifier" (pacifier) when she's fussy. The biggest event around here lately, however has been the transition to the "Big Girl" bed. WOW. It's amazing what a jump that made in Piper's maturity. I don't know if it was the move to the bed that did it or the maturity was already occurring, allowing the big girl bed transition to happen nearly seamlessly. To avoid conflict (something I've become quite adept at, at least with a two year old) I took apart her crib before she came home on the day we were going to do it. However, one side of the crib was too heavy for me to move, so I just propped it against the wall with a blanket over it. Two year olds are smart - do NOT underestimate. When she came home and went into the "Crib" room she said, "What HAPPENED?". Brooks said, as we had planned (so as not to technically lie to her), "your crib went away" and quickly shooed her into her Big Girl room where she was to sleep that night. The next day, she led me into the "crib" room and said, "That's my crib!". "No it's not." I lied in a sickeningly easy manner. To which she replied "it's my crib, but it's for babies." Yeah, that's what I meant to say..... A true Mom of the Year moment.

Here's another MOY moment: we were at the grocery store today and Piper was riding in the car in front of the cart. She kept sticking her head out and I was worried she'd hit it on something. After asking her nicely, for the 36th time, she did it again and I actually thought about lightly bumping something with her head to teach her the lesson. I quickly and silently scolded myself for thinking such an awful thought. Then......Almost immediately after, we bumped in to a stack of plastic bins with her head. I SWEAR I didn't mean to! Steering those things are like driving an 18 wheeler. At least I don't think I meant to. Did I mean to? Oh God I'm awful. If I meant to it was totally unintentional. Can I still blame it on hormones???

Life with Quinn is going pretty well. She is a beautiful, healthy, sweet thing who has, unfortunately, hit her fussy stage. A quick note to those mothers who had "easy babies". DO NOT tell that to mothers going through a fussy stage. Please, have some decency!

She has had a couple of days where she could not be put down without crying. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to CONSTANTLY have a little being, sweet though she is, attached to you for an entire day? Brooks says it gives me "crazy eyes". He looks at my eyes when he comes home and can tell how the day went depending on if I have "crazy eyes" or not. Today, is not a crazy eyes day - hence my ability to take a few minutes to write. The child is actually sleeping, though I had to lie down with her for it to happen. Sleep is good, not matter how it is attained, at this stage! For both of us actually. Sleep reduces "crazy eyes" syndrome for mommies.

Quinn is almost 7 weeks old already and growing like a weed. She's got some plush little rolls on her thighs and a nice, round, big ole head. Her beautiful big eyes are still blue and are so easy to get lost in. The fussiness will end soon, so I'm trying to enjoy the sweet parts of this phase: having her sleep, actually "like a baby" next to me and feeling her belly jiggle when she laughs in her sleep. Her almost-but-not-quite smiles. Her downy soft fuzz/hair. Her sweet smooth skin. It's so good. All of the above reduces "Crazy eyes" too.

I'm looking forward to starting a new job in April. I got laid off about 4 weeks ago. Yeah, that was a Ker-plunk, crazy-eyes kind of day. (A big sting that I'm not ready to be politically correct about just yet so we'll leave it at that.) But I am looking forward to a new adventure and in hind sight, I think it was good timing. I didn't think I was ready for this big of a change professionally, but it turns out, I am. I think it'll be a good thing.

Life is good. It's all a matter of perspective.

Worry capacity FULL

It's funny the things you forget about mothering a newborn:

Did we REALLY just go through ANOTHER whole pack of diapers? They cost HOW MUCH?

Does she really need her face POWER sprayed with milk every time she pulls off? I wish my garden hose had that much pressure. (I've decided she must secretly love that. Imagine being sprayed in the face with liquid chocolate - it MUST be something THAT good.)

WHEN will I learn not to change a diaper on the couch without a changing pad underneath?

Is it essential to have 15 burp clothes in a 5 foot vicinity? And more importantly, which one did she pee on?

Yes, the plumbing is funky and really meant for twins. Sucking on one breast gets the goods flowing in BOTH - be prepared.

And then there is the endless stream of worry. Though it is less stressful the second time around, there is no shortage of new catastrophic dangers you need to avoid. Somehow as your first child grows these dangers seem less dangerous. But NOW you have this fragile being completely dependent on you to not let her get cancer, EVER. If she EVER gets cancer it's because I used the wrong bottles, lotions, soaps, detergents, left her in partial sunlight for too long without PABA free 50 spf sunblock - or worse yet sunblock with PABA! (what the hell is IS PABA?) All I know is that it's a marketers dream, this phase of mothering a newborn. All one has to do is put " (fill in the blank) Free!" on a product, and I'm sure it's something I should buy because I don't have time to keep track of which things are going to kill my daughter and which things may mearly make her retarded - excuse me, I mean "developmentally delayed". I cannot continue to worry endlessly about every new article I read. My capacity for worrying is as full as I want it to be. So, I will just spend the extra money to buy the "_________ FREE!" products. I'm a sucker.

I am truly enjoying this time though. I am worrying so much less this time, because I know it does me, and Quinn, no good. Which leaves me more time to soak it all in and appreciate it. Because I tell you what! It AIN'T happening again! At least not if it involves pregnancy. But really, I fall in love with Quinn all over again every time she looks into my eyes. It's that butterflies in your stomach kind of love. The kind where you could literally just EAT her up, but you settle for a million kisses on all her beautiful tiny parts. (well not ALL her parts...) And I get that same feeling watching Piper be a wonderful big sister. It's amazing to me how she loves Quinn intrinsically. Like Quinn was a piece of herself she didn't know she was missing. I'm so grateful they get to experience the wonder and joy of sister-hood. And so grateful I get to be a new mom one more time.

Initiation SUCKS

The Baby is here!! And initiation into parenting of 2 was a little rough today. Poor big sister Piper has been sick and did not sleep well last night. So she was a little needy all day. I was feeling pretty good about how things were going, however. She wanted to be in my lap while I was nursing her little sister, but we worked that out. She wanted me to play when I was putting little sister down for a nap. Worked that out too. In fact, I was just saying to my friend how I was sure it would get harder, but so far, I was feeling competant. (A nice change...)

It was time to feed little sister so I put Piper in front of the computer to play "games" with some juice and a cereal bar. She hadn't eaten hardly anything all day due to being sick but she LOVES those bars so I thought it was a sure thing. I came down to check on her before I sat down to nurse and noticed only one bite taken from the bar. Then I heard whining and saw arms reaching up to me and only heard "I want attention now that you're about to nurse" which was actually probably more like "mommy I don't feel well....". (Hence the name of this blog "Mom of the Year in full glory.) I asked her to come sit on the couch next to me with her snack while I fed her little sister. We had just settled in, baby going to town on the boob and Piper was standing in front of me still whining. All of a sudden, exorcist style, up came all she had to eat today: juice (red) and cheese. All. Over. Me. (Fortunately the baby was covered with a blanket.)

WHAT DO I DO FIRST??

The dogs are excitedly cleaning up (gag), Piper is crying and miserable, the baby is still eating, I'm soaking wet with puke - I'm surprised the phone and doorbell didn't ring. I set the baby down at a safe distance from this disaster - and now she's screaming because of the boob interuption - strip down Piper, myself and plop her in front of the TV, which I had JUST told her she couldn't watch any more of today..... Oh, is THIS what it's really like??? Oh boy. What did I get myself into?!

I haven't yet gotten to the "Birth Announcement" on my blog. So here it goes!

IT'S A GIRL!!!!!

Quinn Melaina Ramsey was born on January 30, 2008. 5 pounds, 11 oz. 18.25 inches long. 37 weeks TO THE DAY!! Can you believe it? I took my last Procardia (anti contraction med) at noon on the 29th. I had a OB appointment at 3:30 that afternoon. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I noticed I had had several contractions in the last hour. When the doctor checked me she said I was 5cm dilated, 90% effaced. She predicted I would have our baby by 3 AM. We went home and started dinner. When I realized the contractions weren't slowing, I sat down and started timing them. Thankfully, my best friend Kristen was here visiting. Soon, contractions were stronger and 5 minutes apart. We went to the hospital around 7pm. We were so excited and hopeful that this was really "it"! I was checked and was still at 5 cm, 100% effaced. So off we went! At about 11pm I was at 7 cm. Soon after, everything seemed to stop. Contractions slowed and were less strong despite our attempts to keep things going: walking, jumping jacks (just kidding - but only because my feet hurt too bad). I was getting exhausted, as was Brooks. I took a bath then laid down for a bit to rest. When I was checked again, I was still at 7 cm. That's when the Doctor (not my OB unfortunately) suggested breaking my water. From our previous experience with Piper (who was born 20 minutes after the water was broken), we were pretty sure that would do the trick. After he broke the water he said "well, I'll check back on ya in about an hour". Brooks's response was "or...sooner....?" We started walking again and before long I had to really focus on breathing through the contractions that were lasting about 80 seconds and about 30 seconds apart. All of a sudden.... "Pushing!!!!!!!!!!!" came out of my mouth. It hit like a freight train. The doctor came in and casually mentioned he would check my dilation then realized that was unneccessary as he could see the baby CROWNING. He saunters over the the sink and says, "I'll just wash my hands..." You haven't washed your HANDS yet? This baby is a-COMIN! Get your ASS over here! The whole time Brooks and the nurse are telling me to NOT push. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Finally Mr. Clean Hands gets to the bed and in three pushes, she was out. Brooks saw first that she was a girl. I was so happy. I did not even realize how much I wanted another girl until that moment. About 2 minutes later Brooks exclaims "We don't have to buy any clothes!" From my water breaking to birth was about 38 minutes. Quinn was born at 3:15 am. (wow, that's good predicting Doc.) I got my dream. Quinn did not leave my side for the next day and a half that we were in the hospital. I slept that first night with her sweet baby breath on my cheek and we took her home the next day. It was such an amazing experience. One I never want to repeat. :) 2 is wonderful. 2 is more than enough.

Big sister Piper is in love. She loves to hold her (though this has been limited due to Piper being sick!), kiss her head, help change her diaper, tuck her in. She's having what I can only assume is normal extra neediness. And I'm happy to give in when I can.

Quinn did have to make a return visit to the hospital on Sunday, her 4th day of life, because her bilirubin levels continued to rise after her she was sent home and after being on a UV light at home for 2 days. But one peaceful night of her sunbathing under the lights in the hospital did the trick and she's doing great.

This is going to be an adventure. I see Piper in such a different light now. She is SO BIG! When did she get so big? I look at her hands, which were so petite 2 weeks ago, and I see huge-ness! I look at her precious face and realize, this is no longer a baby. I feel a little shell shocked by this most of all. I am a little sad that she's growing so fast. Then I look at beautiful Quinn and realize this is only the beginning. I'm looking ahead to Piper as a big sister. Such a good big sister. I'm excited to see how Quinn encounters her world differently or similarly to Piper. I'm glad we decided a long time ago that 2 kids were enough. All is well and complete in the Ramsey household. And I probably will not be as good about writing in my blog for awhile, forgive me. :)

Oy!

Woo! It's been over a week since I've written. Well I've been busy.... NO not with new baby. New baby is still very comfy and happy to stay put. I was released from bed rest as of last Wednesday and I'm making the most of my time. Let me just say - having a 25 pound "appendage" (as Brooks calls it) sticking out in front of your body wreaks havoc! Oy my back. Oy my feet. Oy my pelvis. Oy. But I have to say the aches and pains I am feeling now after being up are minimal to the aches, physical and mental, I had while on bed rest.
Can I just tell you how good it is for my soul to take control of my home again? No one sees your home as you do. No one notices the cobwebs you do. No one loads your dishwasher the right way. No one uses the good towels for guests only and the old towels for under the dirty humidifier like you do in YOUR home......(INCLUDING your husband!) Oy. I'm so grateful for the help we've received and so grateful for being back on my feet.
There is also the sweetness of being a partner in parenting again. Playing with Piper, holding her, putting her to sleep, bathing her, even disciplining her. She's so much fun and she likes having mommy back, I think. Although we're anxious to hold our new little bundle, I think this time, off work, home with Piper, is so precious. She's not going to be an only child for much longer....
So, no baby yet. I'll be "full term" - 37 weeks- in 2 days. Apparently there are still things to do. Oy.

Top Three Ways to Love Your Cervix

I don't think I can actually write on this topic, but the picture and title cracked me up -(a health awareness dealy-bob from planned parenthood). Eye catching don't you think? Maybe if I show my cervix a little more love, it'll love me back?!

Let's talk about dreams. I was perusing the MSN home page this morning and one of their topics was dream interpretation. I have the time. I interpreted. Every one who knows me well, knows that I have ALWAYS had very vivid, often funny, sometimes prolific or problem solving dreams. Magnify that X10 and you have my pregnancy dreams.

My mom tells a story about the time when I was a toddler (3 year old?) and I woke up and calmly explained to my mom how Cookie Monster came out of the TV and put a crack in my wall. I also remember dreaming as a child about how my many stuffed animals all came to life after I feel asleep and would argue about who was my favorite. This lead to much distress that was only resolved by having ALL of my stuffed animals sleep with me so no one felt left out.

When I was pregnant with Piper I had a doozy where I and a co-worker of mine (who's last name is Ott) were detectives and partners. Among the amusing things included in the dream were the "aliens" we ("Detective Ott and Detective Hot") were chasing down. When they exited the UFO they looked like Jesus in all his toga glory (please no one take offense - these are the opinions of my subconscious not necessarily the whole entity...).

This pregnancy has held many more vivid dreams, some strange, some obviously revealing my desires, some comforting, some not. Last night I was sitting on a gently windy beach alone in the night with only the moonlight to see by and suddenly a wave came up unexpectedly and covered me completely. It was warm and I laughed about it. It was very peaceful. It was interesting to read that dream glossary this AM regarding that dream. Here are some of the key "findings".

Beach:
1. A beach is where the earth meets the water; hence, dreaming of standing on a beach looking out at the water implies intense spiritual experiences ahead. 2. Swimming in the surf implies becoming involved in deep emotions; hence this could imply a new love, the birth of a baby, or the appearance of a long-term friend. 3. Working on a beach warns that difficult times lie ahead financially, and that you may need to either seek help or work that much harder to make ends meet. 4. Lying on a beach is a dream of contrary, hinting that you better enjoy yourself now, because you will soon be too busy to do much relaxing.

Moon
An astrological symbol relating to the emotions. If the Moon is full and bright, much happiness and success lie ahead. If the Moon is new or in the crescent phase, you may not be aware of your own feelings with regard to specific circumstances. A Moon partly or fully obscured by clouds hints at outside matters affecting feelings that you’re currently unaware of, yet still need to deal with.

Night
1. A dream of a clear, starry night, with a full moon, is an omen of positive things to come. A dark, cloudy night with no moon represents the dreamer’s fears. Look to other symbols in the dream to discern what the fears are. 2. If in the dream the night is hindering the dreamer, he should expect obstacles and delays in something dear to him.

Ocean
Life. One of the few universal symbols. An active ocean, teeming with life, with high waves and crashing surf, implies that life will soon become much busier. A calm ocean: A peaceful life. A stormy sea: Trouble ahead. The need to be prepared.

Wind
The wind represents movement, and the type of movement involved is dictated by the circumstances.1. Dreaming of being out in a cold, blustery wind implies having to take action under adverse circumstances.2. Dreaming of a calm, gentle wind that caresses your face is reassurance that you are surrounded by people who deeply love and care for you. A brisk, steady breeze portends success in business enterprises.3. Being caught up in an extreme form of wind such as a cyclone or tornado is a warning to get your affairs in order now if you don’t want to have a lot of trouble later.

Interesting isn't it? Dream interpretation is one of those things that you're often not surprised by the answers, but it's funny how the subconscious brings certain things to your own surface at certain times in your life. In the end I think last night's dream told me what I already knew: I'm ready and able. A few days ago I started freaking out because I felt I had not prepared myself mentally for labor and I didn't feel ready. Today, I feel ready. I would still like a little more time for my body to get ready, but my mind is there. I feel strong (ironically) and secure in the knowledge that my body will do what it needs to do when that time comes.

Of course if I'm not ready at least I'll have Brooks' 11 year old student to help deliver the baby. (His dream last night).

Tough Guy

It's a time for miraculous things to happen. If you read my blog regularly, you know my Nana was struggling with wanting to live around the same time I was put on bed rest. 5 days before my initial hospital visit, Nana, my mom's mom, was hit by a car while walking across the street. (My poor mother would probably like to forget that week.) Although her physical injuries were not life threatening (thank God), her mental strength and positive attitude were hit hard. She seemed to have made up her mind that her life was over. She asked for a DNR (do not resuscitate) order and never gave it the old "college try" with Physical therapy and thus ended up basically bed-bound (kind of an interesting coincidence huh?). This was very unexpected to all who knew her.

Well. Miracles DO happen. On Sunday, shortly before I went to the hospital, while mom, my sister and her husband were visiting Nana, she decided she wanted to go for a WALK! And walk she did. Alzheimer's can truly be a blessing as she has apparently forgotten that she wasn't walking. They have taken the wheelchair out of her room and she continues to CHOOSE to walk daily. She needs a little help, but she is walking.

I am taking this as a sign. Remember that Chinese woman I wrote about? The one who was full term, 7 centimeters dilated and held off delivery for a day and a half because she wanted her child born in a different Chinese year? And now my Nana, who decided she couldn't walk any more and didn't. Then decided she could walk and DID - after being in bed for 11 weeks - at 84 years of age! 4 centimeters - PHOOOEY!

I know it's not something to take lightly -where I am medically - if I want a baby that's not born until 36+weeks (8 days away). But today I am 34 weeks and 6 days - I've beat my record (Piper was born at 5:30 am at 34wks+6d). I'm up for actually pummeling the record, what do you say Cervix? Can you take it? Huh? Tough guy? Bring IT!

Back to Nana. This ability and desire to move means she can get out of her care facility for short periods of time and enjoy some of the things she did before. She can go to my mom's house for the day and hang out with her family and her dog. I don't know what moved her to move. I don't know how long it will last. But it brings me so much joy that she is finding a way to believe in life again. Knowing Nana, she probably just said, "well if I'm not gonna die, I guess I better actually live."

Nana, I know this isn't about pride for you. But I have to say I'm so proud to be your grand daughter and fellow Gemini - at sometimes I feel you are my other half. Our lives and thoughts often so closely parallel each other's. Your way of being is so pure, easy and true. I hope this moving around thing lasts at least until I can show you your new great grand baby and put my arms around you. I love you.

4 BIG ONES

Centimeters, that is. Yup. It creeps me out a little. We went to the hospital last night because of increasingly regular contractions and I measured 4 cm dilated. Wow....

They were able to stop the contractions, or at least stablize them with one shot of Terbutaline and I was sent home. My doctor was actually on call - which was a nice change from having to give my entire history again. She feels at this point she would not be very agressive with trying to stop labor (ie magnesium sulfate). If it can be stopped with "a squirt of Terb" great, if not, here we go folks. I have an ultrasound on Wednesday to check the placenta and amniotic fluid levels to make sure baby's ok. I'll be 34 weeks and 6 days tomorrow - that is when Piper was born. To use the phrase my doctor used, I'm like a "Jenney-O turkey" my "done button" may just pop at close to 35 weeks! Gobble gobble....

Here are some other things that are 4 cm:

The metal end to a key--before you get to the rounded bit at the top.

The plastic lid to a flash drive.

This vegetable (in diameter).

This silver dollar.

This paper clip.

Just to give you an idea. I'm not "there" yet, mentally. I'm not quite ready for labor, so this baby'll just have to wait a little longer! Keep your fingers crossed!

We're ALL getting ready for baby....

It's time to tuck baby Elmo in for a nap.
Then everyone else needs a pull-up change!

Then we rub and kiss the baby in mommy's belly...

Brooks says "the thing I don't remember about your belly last time is the 'overhang'". Hmmm. It IS sort of "Shelf-like"....