Memorial Day littles! |
Here's the sitch: I have about 30 minutes to kill while I pump, I just finished work, and I realize it's been forEVER since I last blogged.
And I'm sorry! Not sorry as in, "I've let down all my followers! They've been waiting with bated breath!" No, I realize I have like, five of you who read this thing. But either way, maybe it's that I've let myself down? Who knows. I do feel a sense of weird sadness that I haven't been writing or posting updates.
I'll think to write a quick entry sometimes! I have like, 12 half-written posts and some notes in my iPhone on all the latest phrases Ana's saying. I would kill for an empty afternoon to just catch tf up. But honestly, if I had an empty afternoon right about now, I'd probably take a nap. Or go get a pedicure and read Us Weekly with a really fatty Starbucks drink. I don't know. I'm so unmotivated to sit at a computer when I have free time -- I know I've talked about that struggle before.
Also like, I'm kind of a perfectionist about this type of thing. I don't want to share half-done, or half-assed blogs (even though this is probably gonna be one of those). Still, it's not a comfortable space for me. Does that sound snobby?
Like, even though my platform is ugly and I *still* haven't redesigned, or fixed my URL, I still have to share quality posts with nicely edited photos and entries that reflect who I am as a writer. It's hard being Type A in situations like these, it really is.
BLAH BLAH BLAH, I should probably give you an update if I'm here to give you an update, right?
I'm like, the best I've ever been, and the messiest! I cannot keep up with laundry. I have a pile of clothes in our room the size of a small mountain. My brain is scattered in 50 different places. We lost our two regular sitters within the past month or so, so that's been a transition, to say the least. I'm being pulled in a lottttt of different directions, just with like, a 2 1/2-year-old, and Robs, who is still very much a tiny babes, and my job, and trying to swing occasional daytime shifts, and MAN, sometimes I just wanna hang out with James and unwind and not take care of anyone for an hour. Is that horrible?
And then there's always this feeling of like, "What can I be doing around the house? Should I log an hour of work in case I get sidetracked during my shift later? Should I be blogging? [No.] Editing the 9,000 pics I just snapped on my phone? Reading about the latest Teen Mom 2 drama just to get 3 seconds to myself? Preparing dinner for later?"
At the end of some days, James and I will be like, "WHAT did we get ourselves into?"
Life is just busy. It's a busy season. But all bitching aside, like I said, things could NOT be better. I've never been happier with the state of my life. I cannot even begin to describe the love in my heart for our two littles, and my sweet husband. I wouldn't trade one second of this for the world (OK, well, maybe a fewwww seconds, but you get my point).
Analisa just like, loves Robby. It's truly the best thing I've ever witnessed. She is the sweetest girl. I mean, she defffffinitely has her difficult toddler moments, but I feel like people warned me that (age) 2 would be the all-time worst.
Is the worst still around the corner?
I mean, maybe. I just think to myself -- probably once a week -- this isn't so bad! The good SO outweighs the bad. She is so full of life, and talkative and loving, and it's like, she's beyond just words and sentences at this point. She tells stories. She has a clear concept of time. "No, I saw Meese YESTERDAY." She tells us that she loves us. She is the most joyful little thing I've ever been around. We cannot get enough of her. I definitely speak for James when I say that too, no doubt!
Now, Ana ALSO peered into her pillowcase the other day and noticed that Mickey Mouse, while on the pillowcase, did *not* adorn the pillow itself. And there was truly no talking her off that ledge. She was pissed off, and we just kind of had to ride out the storm together. "Want Mickey ON THE PILLOW. WANT MICKEY ON THA PILLOWWWWW!"
It's hard not to laugh.
It's kind of like when she spotted the Caldicott seal on the back of one of her books, and she thought it was a sticker, and she kept yelling, "take sticker off!" and she would not ACCEPT that it wasn't a sticker, and finally, James just tore that corner of the book off, handed it to her, and she proceeded to get even more mad because the "sticker" wasn't sticky.
Toddlerhood, man.
But you really have to take her seriously in times like these. The author Harvey Karp is so, so good. I know I've recommended "Happiest Toddler on the Block" before. You can't just offer other suggestions or distract, at some point. You have to acknowledge their feelings and make them feel heard and understood -- even if it's crazy. I mean, these tantrums might seem silly to us, as parents, but to toddlers, their emotions are big, and sometimes confusing, and I'm sure it's gotta be overwhelming.
Imagine you brought up a problem you were having to a family member, or some friends, and they were just like, "no, try THIS. No, try THIS. Or how about THIS INSTEAD? You need a nap! lol. This stage in life is crazy!" ... Like, nah. You'd get mad, too.
Sometimes you just want someone to acknowledge your problem or dilemma, even if there's no perfect solution, and get on your side. Doesn't it feel good when someone just gets in your corner? "Oh my gosh, that must be so hard!" or "I hear you. How frustrating!" That's the idea here.
You have to match their tone, their passion, and repeat back what they're saying, in moments of a toddler crisis.
Anyway, like I said, the tantrums are seriously pretty few and far between. And for that, we are grateful! I couldn't love that girl any more if I tried. I am obsessed with being her mom.
And Robs. My sunshine boy! There has never been a happier baby. He looks like a little old man (is it the mouth? The chin? TELL ME), but his smiles just light up a room. He's rolling in both directions, has been for quite some time now!, babbling nonstop, and he is SO comforted by a quick mama snuggle. I would just hold him all day if I could (oh, and I try). I've gotten pretty good at writing news stories with that little friend on my lap! Working from home is LIFE.
And well, no one ever told me how spit-uppy a baby could be, but oh, I've seen learned. Phewwww does that boy know how to vom up his dinner! He's actually gotten a touch better in recent weeks, so I'll cross my fingers that that trend continues. It was pretty disheartening there for awhile, to spend so much time pumping breastmilk for him, only to get SOAKED in my own milk, when it projectile vomits back at me 15 minutes later. :(
He's always been a happy spitter, as our doctor calls it, meaning he puts on weight well and the reflux doesn't seem to bother him. So we don't really do much about the problem except keep a towel handy -- and that, we don't even do too well. Hence, why I can't seem to keep up with all the laundry.
Robby has taught me so much about being a mom. Do you guys remember that one blog post I wrote -- here, I'll link it -- where I was like, "babies sleep all the time"? And "why do people gift you bibs? Do they really spit up all that much?"
OMG OMG lol.
Pretty sure God read that blog (did I write it while I was pregnant? I think so), and was like, Hold. My. Beer.
I kinda got schooled, to say the least. Don't write cute blog posts when you only have one kid (a trick baby at that), mmmkay?
Robby's 4-month sleep regression turned me into a crazy person. I was like, bleary-eyed and bloodshot, extensively Googling sleep-training methods for about two or three weeks there. And whimpering to myself at 5 in the morning when I couldn't get him to go back down. And then Ana would get up for the day, I'd realize there was no chance I'd get a nap in, and oh yeah, I work till midnight M-F.
COOL, ROBS. I now understand why they use sleep deprivation as a torture tactic.
Um yeah. The bibs? Everywhere.
The spit-up? Everywhere.
I was pretty relaxed when it came to Ana just falling into a schedule on her own. And Robby did the same -- probably just over the past few weeks, actually. But like, when you're back to work, I can now understand why people wanna speed this process up. Not knowing what to expect when you're also working 10-hour days ... sucks, for lack of a better word.
I knew a lot of this would be hard, snarky blog posts aside, but I guess I didn't know in what ways specifically it'd be challenging. It's the sleep. The balancing act. The feeling of being needed, and like I have to be ON, 24/7.
But I also keep getting reminded just how fleeting the days are. Robs just turned 5 months, can you believe that? Ana will be 2 1/2, officially, in a week. This isn't forever. They will only be this little and needy once. I do love being there for them. I have the best setup, with WFH. I mean, it's exhausting, but I really feel like I get to hang with both of those little loves all day long. They are so, so precious and important.
I'm sure I'll continue to learn, and adjust, and there will be easier times and more hard ones ahead. It's sometimes hard to put your partner first when you have two crazy tiny dictators running the show. But James and I really make an effort. We think that is soooo important, to prioritize one another as well as the babes.
It's hard to put yourself first, or really, ANYWHERE in the mix. And you wanna love on the new baby and keep the toddler feeling like all eyes are on her, and like, just lately, I really do feel like we've really hit our stride. They evolve so much, so fast, but so do we.
I'd give us an A (or at least a B+; maybe we had a bit too much screentime going on for a bit), almost every step of the way. We get out. We try things. We're always like, "what's the worst thing that's gonna happen?" and I think that's vital. I took them both to the aquarium solo probably with my stitches still in tact. I was proud, not gonna lie! But I'm also the kind of person who likes to get out quickly postpartum; flu season be damned. That shit keeps me sane; I can't hole up in the house all day like some kind of barricaded gunman (lol; back in local news mode, as you can see).
I haven't struggled with postpartum depression, really with either baby, and for that I'm grateful. But the PP period can be hard on anyone -- I really believe that. I was reminded of a lot of the ways our brain can gloss over the hard parts, once you're like, out of the woods and a few months clear. Ana was such a dream baby, I thought we'd nail it! And I mean, like I said: I think we've done REALLY well. Still, there are some days where I've been like, "Ohhhhh yeah, I forgot about how obsessed I'll get over the baby not latching!"
There's that, too. Robs is 5 months and I'm still pumping. I mean, just three times a day, so it's feasible. But I'm also ready to stop pretty soon. Aiming for 6 months at the moment, so stay tuned!
K, my half-hour's up. Glad we did a little check-in! Maybe that should be a thing. Check-in Fridays, where I do a stream-of-consciousness ramble about R+A, and anything else that's on my mind? Perhaps.
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