Bridget is 1!

Naturally, I'm writing Bridget's birthday blog in February (her bday was Nov. 11), so you could say I'm a little behind!

I almost feel bad, because when Ana was this age, she was getting like, monthly blog posts from me, documenting her growth, re-telling all the funny stories; you name it, I was taking notes. (ALSO I was in my brief stint as a stay-at-home mom, and Ana was obviously our first baby, so I had time for things like this).

I say I *almost* feel bad, because Bridget is the most loved little girl on the planet.

Honestly, it must be SO FUN to be the youngest!

I swear, if James walks her downstairs after her nap, and the big kids are now home from school, the room just ERUPTS with cheers and applause. Are we setting the bar too high? The rest of Bridget's life, she's going to come to expect this! 😉

The kids are just crazy about her.

"She is such a gift in their lives," my mom will say.

Except for when she's ... not? haha. If Bridget is being yell-y or stiff arming everyone, Robby's the first to pout, "Bridget is being a jerk." The first time he ever said anything like this, btw, I couldn't even hold back my laughs. "A BABY CANNOT BE A JERK, ROB."

Robby, it should be mentioned -- from pretty much the time Bridget was born -- has been yelling in her face. He's a touch rough with her, I have to remind him that she's just a baby 9,000 times a day ... but the thing is, now that she's 1, I've kinda stopped being so overbearing.

If he wants to yell in her face, and she pops him on the nose, that's the repercussion, I suppose. "Bridget's just a jerk" or whatever, lol.

Anyway, I used to watch Robs like a hawk, like, "ROBBY back up! Give B some space!" And now she just giggles and giggles at him (well, usually). She's guarded, but I can see how much she loves his big personality.

Ana has been my helper girl since day one. She is so tender with Bridget, and sweet, and helps me carry her around the house -- especially as of late. In December, I had a little surgical procedure (I was home same-day; it was NBD), but I was on "no lifting Bridget for several weeks" orders -- and Ana was a godsend. Bridget really looks at her with trust and genuine love. I always wanted a sister. I'm so happy they have each other!

James and I always say, "She knows." (As in, BRIDGET knows). I swear, we ask her questions, we involve her in conversations (I mean, not fully; we're not insane), but we really treat her like any other kid, in some senses. She knows.

If I'm like, "Bridget, hand me your milk," she will. "Bridget, pick up that crayon," she will.

Just as of super late, she responds "YESH" to things.

"B, you want milk?" -- "YESH."

"Lulu, should we read that book?" -- "YESH."

And she is WALKING as of ... right around her birthday? I think a few weeks after she turned 1, she officially took off and never turned back.

It's surreal how like, "Oh, I guess she's all set crawling then?" And then you realize it's been a day, or a few days, and then weeks, and it makes you realize how fleeting babyhood is.

Bridge had been standing and cruising the furniture and seeming oh-so strong for MONTHS, but she just wouldn't take that first step as early as we suspected she would. Then we were at Third Street Market Hall, this food place downtown Milwaukee, and James and Ana went to go stand in line for dinner, and Robby and I both caught Bridget's eye in the play area, righttttt when she attempted a step or two on her own!

It was crowded, there were people all around us, but we both went absolutely berserk. We honestly looked at each other, jumped to our feet and went "BRIDGET OHMYGOSH OHMYGOSH, YAYYYYYY!"

We were laughing and laughing. Everyone around us was startled. Ana and James couldn't believe they missed it!

I was pretty confident Bridget would be a "just around her first birthday" walking bear. And there we were!

What else?

She is ...

The hardest to get to sleep, of my 3 children. There is VERY rarely a night or a nap when Bridget's just like, "this has been an exhausting day, thank god I'm in my crib." She fights and cries and acts like there's been a terrible injustice done to her, every time she must sleep. She also doesn't nap when we're out and about. If we're running errands or we have a long day at German dance (which just happened around the holidays, we saw soooo many kids napping on their parents or in their strollers; and we were like, "why can't our girl do that?!"), Bridget will fight the good fight to stay awake. Mad case of FOMO over here. Also, when we went to my uncle's place in Northern Michigan in late July, she was ... 7 months old at the time, and the drive was easily 8-9 hours, when you factor in stops. She napped for maybe 15 total minutes. It was crazy.

She's also the hardest to get to laugh, of my 3. Once you get her, she'll giggle along with the best of them, and her belly laugh is hysterical. But achieving that laugh in the first place? Is HARD. Maybe we're just not that funny? lol. 😉 Tough crowd, that Bridget -- or she has a very advanced sense of humor, lol.

She's SO hit or miss on food. She doesn't love mindless carbs like my other children; she will absolutely smash blueberries for 2 weeks straight, only to decide that she now hates them out of the clear blue sky -- actually, she JUST did this with bananas, and my least favorite thing is feeling like she's hungry, but doesn't really want anything. She always wants her milk, I'll tell you that. It's like her comfort item. We do probably need to scale back, but you know what? Whatever. I'm a firm believer in "she'll do it/break the habit when she's ready." And I'm clearly talking about milk or any lil routine when I say that. All kids do things when they're truly ready.

She's not really a cuddly child. Neither was Ana, but Ana was still way cuddlier than B. Also, if you took Ana into your bed, which James and I did manyyyyy mornings, she loved it so much and would fall back asleep with us like it was a great treat. When I say B would never, she would NEVER.

And that means, if and when Lulu DOES cuddle, you get *so excited*. She sat with me on the couch today and held my hand, and I was incredibly touched.

Even last week, she was fussing and fussing, so I took her into my bed, and what did she do? Curl up in my arms and feel my heart beating, remembering what it was like to be in the womb? Nah. She bopped me in the face and was like, "Do you want to see me stand up? How 'bout now? Wait, I swear I can balance on this stack of blankets. What's that on your nightstand? I'll crawl across your face and go get it."

I promptly returned her to the crib after about 5 minutes and she seemed relieved, haha.

All that said, she is a very happy lil girl. She has cranky moments, of course, but I do genuinely think she loves to be around our family, Olivia (omg, you should see her run and hug Olivia), and the kids more than anyone. It brings me so much joy to have everyone home in the evenings, as Bridget squeaks and squawks and bops around the living room as Ana does homework and Robs ... well, yells in her face.

James said recently, "I can't even remember life before her." And I can't either. I kinda cringe when people will say like, "and with this child, now our family is complete!" ... because honestly, James and I could have been complete, just the two of us. And then once we had Ana, if we had to stop there, we would have been "complete." But every time we add another kid, it just gets better and better. The month of January was super challenging, and LONG, tbh, so I'm not going to say it's all easy. Actually, balancing work-three kids-no family help can be a real challenge.

But Bridget really has been the most delightful addition I ever could have imagined. I love pulling out tubs of Ana's old clothes and seeing flashes of the older two kids in our B-girl.

I just ... love us.

I love all the kids' -- and our! -- nicknames for Miss Lou.

She is Bridget, Bridgerton Bear, Bridgington Bear, Bridge, B, B-girl, Bridgey Lou, Lulu, Miss Lou, Louis (I giggle every time at Louis), Foo, Lulu the Snoo, Miss Cranks, and probably 54 other names I'm forgetting.

She's also a very big baby at nearly the 100th percentile in ... every category.

How was she my smallest bear at birth, despite the gestational diabetes, and then all of a sudden my hugest?

She might look small in pics, but she's probably about 30 pounds. She wears a 2T and my other kids were a lil closer to size.

Finally, you should hear her cute lil voice. If you ask her, "Bridget, would you like a banana?" She says, "YESH," and then when she takes a bite of said banana, she goes "mmm!" It kinda has some inflection in the middle. It's a very animated, joyous little sound. James keeps saying he wants it to be his ringtone.

ANYWAY. That's what I got on my third child's very late birthday blog!

Love you, little Lu.

Robby, at 5 years old

Can I just start by saying, how very "second child" or even "middle child" this is?

Robs hasn't had a blog post dedicated just to him, in QUITE some time. 😭

I've had this, half-written, sitting in my Drafts folder for about a year. More than a year! (I *have* updated it a bunch though in recent days and weeks).

Admittedly, Bridget's birth, even like, my pregnancy with her -- the fact that I made a major career shift this past summer ... a lot got in my way. Not to mention, I am just so OVER writing sometimes, as someone who writes full-time for work. (I know, these are all just excuses).

But I love this lil boy!

ANYWAY. Wanna hear how this past year or so (even two years?) have been with our guy?

Let's dive in.

Robby is the absolute loviest child on the planet. Just look at him, snuggling with SHARKEY.

Sharkey, btw, is a main character in our lives. He's about to pop up in every other story, just as a fair warning, lol.

Sharkey definitely remains a best friend. I asked Rob the other day if he plans on loving Sharkey and sleeping with him for the rest of his life, and he was just like, "YES MOMMY OF COURSE, WHY WOULDN'T I?"

I never had a doubt, really.

This is his school picture from K3 -- look at my little no-neck boy.

And here's his pic from K4, his current grade:

He's so much bigger! And he looks proud. I'm so proud of him. Did I say that already?

Robs is the nicest guy. And that's not to say he can't be a bit hot and cold (oh, he can), or temperamental or cranky.

He's just ... so pleasant and sweet. I don't know where he gets it. He is over-the-top nice. He's been this way for a few years now. Like, he talks to me how I talk to him.

Some examples: "Mommy, you are the sweetest girl. ... Robby loves you! ... I love you with my whole entire heart and my whole entire brain and my whole entire body. ... You are the best mommy who ever lived. ... I'm going to love you, mommy, for the rest of my life. ... Will you keep me little, mommy, so I can never grow up and always love you this much? ... I love being in this family." (Are you gagging, reading these? I swear, I typed them into the Notes app of my iPhone, so they're not even made up, lol!)

He is too much.

And don't you worry - he did tell me, when I told him he had to change into his pajamas the other night, "THIS IS THE WORST FAMILY EVER," as he stormed out of the room very dramatically, so ... like I said: Hot and cold too! lol

Robby is VERY thoughtful, though. And I don't mean thoughtful in the traditional sense, but it seems like he's constantly replaying things in his head. He's empathetic. He puts himself in other people's shoes and thinks about what situations were like for them.

When Michigan State knocked Marquette out of the NCAA tournament, he went from chanting "go green! Go white! MICHIGAN STATE YAY!" to actual tears, because he saw some Marquette players crying. He burst into tears right away, like, "Mommy, I didn't know they were going to cryyyy!"

So we had a chat about how it was kind of heartbreaking. They worked really hard too, you know, and now their season is over.

One day, out of the clear blue sky, like, 3 months after our Disney trip, he just says, "Mommy, thank you for taking us to Disney World. That was a LOT of fun and hard work for you!" (And I swear, I'm not like, roaming the house, bitching about how the planning was hard work, haha. I really like that sort of thing!) Disney was hilarious with him, btw. So much dancing and happiness. Some grumpy moments too, but I'll cherish that memory -- with both kids! -- forever.

Another time, I'd been teasing Rob about how when I invited my friend Melanie out to dinner with us one Friday, he was a gigantic grump, and James actually took him out of the restaurant early, to go hang out in the car. WEEKS later, he says randomly, "Can you tell Melanie I'm sorry about being crabby that one night during fish fry?"

And then he goes to one of his first birthday parties, like, a big one with his whole class, and as all the kids are eating cake around the table, in between bites, completely unprompted, Robby pipes up and says, "Thank you for inviting me to your party, Bennett. I'm having a lot of fun!"

🥺

Some of the other moms were so impressed. I was like, "I didn't ask him to say that!" haha. I was just tending to Bridget a few feet back, as she was like, days old at the time, but I overheard it all, my heart was indeed warmed by the sentiment, and the rest of the party was like, OH MY GOD THAT ANGEL.

He's just so pure. And filled with love!

Robs was pretty sad to leave Ms. Hendricks, who was his teacher for a lil 3-year-old preschool program we had him in. She was warm and he loved his class ... so this year, going all day, every day, Monday through Friday, in a foreign language, felt like a lot at first. But he took it like a champ. He mentioned missing Ms. Hendricks a lot at first, but he's never fought school or struggled. His teacher says his German is great (he's really into it, and of course, having Ana -- especially on virtual school in 2020 and 2021 -- largely helped!), he plays well with others, we've never had a behavioral complaint, and if anything, one time he was the victim of straight up targeting, like, ejection from the game style, and he didn't even react. Some girl who he's never met hit him on the playground, and he said he "blinked a lot and swallowed his tears." 🥺🥺🥺

Stop it. This is making me sad. I swear, this shit makes me go into mama bear mode.

He is obsessed with Bridget. He says sometimes he wants to stay home from school and protect her.

WHAT.

(Also, like, protect her from what?) lol.

Oh, you want to know why else I bring up his 3-year-old preschool class ... one day, he comes home with this lil slip in his bag, and it says ROBBY GANLEY, Dolphin of the Week. And I'm like, aw that's cute, I wonder if his class recognizes a student each week for good behavior.

It was one of the first weeks of school, so I didn't know how it worked or whatever.

No, you guys.

Dolphin of the Week isn't for one student per class -- it IS a weekly award, but they pick one student in the whole school. And Robby won! It's an elementary school; K3 all the way up through fifth grade. I don't know how many students, like, 100? 200? It's not massive, but it's not small, either.

I got a call from his school that afternoon, and it was the principal. (!!!)

She was like, "Yeah, we don't often have students from the 3-year-old class who get Dolphin of the Week, but it's an exciting honor, and we just thought you should hear it from us!"

When I say I've never been prouder ... ohmygosh, I was tearing around the house, like, "you guys! James! Robby! Guess what just happened!"

Robs didn't really understand, but for awhile, we were having some fun with it. Like, imagine he whacks Ana while they're playing in the basement. James would be like, "um, sir, is that Dolphin of the Week behavior?" Or if he sassed me at dinner, I'd be like, "Dolphins of the Week do NOT talk like that."

My mom was even like, texting the news around. My cousin Amanda in Pittsburgh was like, "I HEARD!" It was going viral.

Oh this little boy.

K3, for Robby, was all about the block area. Every day on our drive home from school, I'd ask, "Did you get to play in the block area?" It was almost like if it were a bones day, if you followed Noodle the Pug's TikTok a year or so ago. If the block area was a yes, then YESSSSS/what an amaz day! But if some other kids were in there or they ran out of time ... whew. You don't want a day without the block area.

Here's Rob and Jim on what's becoming an annual Boyne Highlands ski trip.

This pic was from the 2022 edition. We just got back, maybe 2 weeks ago?

(I uploaded most of these pics into this blog entry so long ago -- already, so many of them are looking dated!) 🥺

Robs -- both kids, really -- they're pretty good skiers, considering they've just gone a handful of times. They have some balance and they're pretty comfortable out there, which is more than I can say for James, lol.

The first time, Robs was kinda too little, and he just slid down with Uncle Robby maybe once or twice. He was kind of like a little Gumby, and not that into it.

These past two years though, he was pretty into it!

Such good gliding skills, and better strength than you'd expect. He is so dense lately, as in, his body is just growing at rapid speed and he feels heavy; strong and like a real child, rather than a stumbly 3- or 4-year-old.

Here are some more pics I had loaded into this draft months and months ago. In some of these, he looks exactly the same. In others, I feel like he's grown a ton, just as of late! Time, slow downnnnn please.

He LOVES: tacos (cheese, lettuce, onion and salsa only), sharks, his stuffed animals, family, Spiderman, soccer, and both the kids were on a roll with swimming lessons there for awhile. James and I were like, "We don't need them to be good, we just need them to not drown," lol.

They loved a spontaneous trip to Great Wolf Lodge last spring, and Robby thinks he's a huge Lionel Messi fan (but barely watched the World Cup, haha). He is very enthusiastic about soccer though; it was cool to watch him this past fall. Ana, on the other hand, told me she wanted to sign up and then hated it. Robby was so gung-ho about chasing the ball, scoring; some of the other kids on his team were kinda ADHD at times, but Robs was laser-focused. He was sad he didn't have games -- the kids his age just have practices. He probably should have taken Ana's spot in HER games, lol, she didn't understand offense vs. defense (although, to be fair, her coaches didn't bother to explain it).

What else can I tell  ya about Mr. Bob?

I genuinely enjoy him so much. He is sweet as pie, polite, so good-natured, funny, and he makes every day fun.

I am not just saying those things. He's a tiny person but he's been my friend, and it's been that way for a while now. He's so likable. I want my friends to get to know him, I'm so proud of him and his big personality.

I tell him all the time, now that he's in school full-time, I miss our lil ritual of walking Ana to school, coming home, having a second bowl of cereal, and then I'd work on my laptop from the couch while he laid up against me and watched Sesame Street. Some of those days drove me crazy, like if I had a Zoom meeting or I felt I had to rush him off to school ... but so many mornings were just like, cozy and sweet and quiet and nice.

To have them both out of the house now, at German school, from 9:15 till almost 4 p.m. is wild. James and I would be enjoying pretty easy lives right about now if we didn't just add an extra baby!

No regrets though. Robs is the one who made me feel like I wanted another baby in the first place.

He's the biggest love. He went through a phase where he liked me -- a lot. If we were in the house together, he'd sit by me, no matter what. It's hard to describe ... because he's always been really independent, active, he can solo-play, and I totally think he's remained right on track, developmentally. I don't mean he ever NEEDED me needed me, like a crutch. He just liked to be near me. If we were lounging, watching TV, he'd very casually come and plop on my lap and hold my hand. If I was on a Zoom call from the couch, he'd grab his bin of dinosaurs and play quietly (sometimes not so quietly) right next to me. It's been less lately, and that's been a shift. It makes me happy and sad, all at once. He's growing up! It's bittersweet. I'll say, "YOU NEED TO COME SNUGGLE MAMA," and he'll giggle and tell me he's busy, or he has to play with his sharks. This is kinda what mom life is like, I'm learning. You get so used to something (sometimes it drives you nuts), but then one day, you wake up, and it's gone.

Still, I'm constantly telling James, my mom, texting my friends, like, "You'll never guess what Robby said/did today," and it's always just like, out of this world, lol. I love him so much my heart could explode. He's so funny and charismatic.

Even last week, on the way to school, he was all, "Mommy! Listen. The birds are tweeting!" And then he greeted them, and said, "Hello, birdies! I hope you have a great day!"

He's super observant. He doesn't like when other people are sad. Ana got hurt earlier this week (just something minor, I'm sure), and he cried, too. "I don't like when Ana is sad!" he whimpered.

I have so many stories. I type things into my iPhone constantly, in an attempt not to forget.

Once, he had to go to the doctor because he got this odd eye infection, like, twice in a row. The nurse practitioner was having a hard time getting these eye drops in, to see if he had scratched his cornea, and he kept saying, "AW MAN, CHEESE AND CRACKERS," as like, a substitute to "oh shoot." Just like, the way he was doing it, his tone, the fact that he remained in great spirits even though "I LOOK LIKE A VAMPIRE," this combo had the nurse in stitches.

Another time, I brought him into his school office, late because we had another appointment, and just as I was about to hand him off, he asked the woman who'd be walking him to his classroom (ever so sweetly and kind of quietly, "Um, could you hold my hand, please?"

I could make a whole side entry on how he treats Bridget.

He was so excited when I finally told them we were expecting a new baby brother or sister. He solely referred to her in utero as "our baby." Like, "Mommy, when are we going to be able to meet our baby?"

And then when he came up to the hospital to meet her -- oh my good god.

He was nervous around the baby, but whispering things like, "Hi, Bridget. It's me, Robby! I'm your big brother. I love you already!"

Jeez Louise. He is too much for this earth.

Oh, and a funny one: When I bought my 4Runner, I kept emphasizing what a big SUV it was, compared to my old Escape, and he pulled me aside at one point and asked me quite seriously, "Do you think you'll be able to reach the pedals, mommy?"

Here's a running list of things I typed into my phone, either because they made me smile or laugh:

-- The time he somehow got the name "John Ellinger" stuck in his head, and he was inserting the name into songs, inviting him to the dinner table, saying goodbye to him (well, or an imaginary version) when we left the house, etc. "Nice to meet you, John Ellinger!" he'd say to absolutely no one.

-- When I put SHARKEY in the wash, and he cried real tears and whimpered defiantly, "But Sharkey is the goodest guy I ever met! He shouldn't have to go get clean!"

-- His reaction to gifts. He's so grateful and incredible. (Well, most of the time. He didn't understand when I tried to surprise them with Disney, and that went a lil haywire).

-- The time we were flying from Rochester, NY, back to Chicago, and there was a tornado warning on the ground, so we had to circle above O'Hare for two hours. He decided at some point that James was "an extraordinary guy" and I was "just a lady." He'd go, "Drinks coffee every day? Extraordinary guy. Goes to work? Extraordinary guy."

"Takes me to school every day? Just a lady. Makes me cereal every morning? Just a lady."

The people behind us thought it was hysterical. Soon enough, they were chiming in. "Mows the lawn when it gets too shaggy?" People behind us: "EXTRAORDINARY GUY!"

It was so funny. Never mind that I'm "just a lady."

Then, once we finally landed at O'Hare, the kids kept begging to go on one of those lil "cars" that drive you around in the terminal (I think they're for people with physical disabilities, or like, the elderly), and I was like, "no no, we don't need one of those, let's keep it moving." But the driver passed us a few times, and he finally offered to take the kids on a lil tour-de-O'Hare, so I went with them, of course. It was pretty fun! We were halfway across the airport from our gate, and who do we see boarding their next flight? The people behind us from first plane. They called from across the way, "IT'S THE EXTRAORDINARY GUY!"

-- The time we went to the State Fair (over the summer) and Robby had the best time ever, and yelled to everyone at the end, "This is the best family everrrrrrr!"

-- On a not-so-sweet note, he kept getting interrupted, just the other day, and finally he tossed his napkin down at dinner and huffed and puffed, "This is the WORST FAMILY!" (haha I'm realizing this is a pattern. I started the blog with this dichotomy, didn't I?)

James and I couldn't even keep straight faces at dinner.

-- He and Ana love drawing (always have, really; my budding artists) and they'll sometimes make pictures for classmates. Robby was giving Ana very specific compliments, like, (gasps) "Oh my goodnesssss. You used ALL the colors on that butterfly, Ana! Beautiful." It makes my heart swell.

-- Or like, speaking of that Rochester, NY trip (their first time on a plane!), when James' mom was dropping us off for the plane ride back to Milwaukee, I feel like there was a lot of hustle and bustle and unloading bags from the trunk and quick goodbyes. Robby is so thoughtful. He sniffed, "I'm going to miss you, grandma! I love you."

-- When I started a new job, he was my little buddy -- asking me early on, "How's the new job, mommy? Tell me about it."

-- I like for the kids to be cozy, and they like for me to be equally comfortable. Both Robby and Ana are quick to say, "Are your star PJs clean, mommy? Go get your stars on, mama!"

(I do love my star pajamas!)

-- I think I've said this already, but he's just so thoughtful about his days. Once before bed, he said, "We had a whole day in front of us, and now poof! It's over."

-- He has a silly voice, in general, and a ridiculous laugh. I want to bottle them both.

-- He (and Ana) are very outgoing. They love the owner of our favorite fish fry restaurant, the mail carrier, their school lunch ladies and people like the dentist and the doctor.

-- Robs loves classic "boy stuff," like dinosaurs, trucks, superheroes and -- most importantly -- books. The best way to get him to unwind is by snagging him onto my lap for a story. He pays really good attention, too (most nights). I'll ask him, like, we're doing Harry Potter book 1 right now ... "What did Harry mean when he told Hermione that?" And he stays super engaged, and usually has a decent answer for me.

-- Or how about when I was pregnant? He used to talk to my bump, like, "Hi baby, it's me, Robby!" Or he'd always pretend he felt or saw kicks, like, even when I was pretty early on in the pregnancy. He'd just be hanging with me, making dinner, and say, "Ope, there it is again! I saw it kick!" Like, no, no you didn't, sir. I'm 18 weeks with no bump. But I like that you're so involved!

-- One time, I swear, he is so prophetic. He said, "Mommy, I love you every single day. But I don't always LIKE you every single day." I mean, if that doesn't sum up how we feel about family some times ... I appreciated, in a weird way, him calling that out!

-- He lovvvvves gym class lately, and cried one morning about the fact that he hadn't been in quite some time, due to appointments and snow days and such.

-- As mentioned, Robs loved our Disney trip last fall. We took the kids in late September, and although he was hot and cold at times (which drove James a little batty), a highlight for both of us was watching him dance at Disney Junior. He got so into it. The employees were like, clearing people out, and Robby was essentially break-dancing and attempting the worm. I haven't laughed that hard in a longggg time.

-- He cried at "The Snowman," which is one of our fav Christmas movies. It wasn't an upset/tantrum cry, it was like, he truly got in the boy's head. Robby was all, "but the boy really loved the snowman!" when he melted at the end. It kinda made me tear up, tbh! Empathy is taught, and I do think we're doing a good job with him.

-- He loves to pick his own outfits in the morning. Anything Natalie buys him to wear, is an instant fav. We love his old-man shark button-downs.

-- He has a beautiful voice, and if you ask him to sing for you, he will.

-- Robs will talk to me, like I talk to him: "Get over here, you angel of a darling!" he said to me one day after school. Or, "Oh dear child, you grow up so fast!" he said to Ana in a funny accent. He has such a sense of humor!

-- For as many highs as he has, he also has some low lows. It's just par for the course, I think. If I send Ana up to her room, either as punishment or just to take a breather, she's all like, unrattled, "Cool, I got toys up there!" If you send Robby, he sees it as a personal assault on his character, and he will cry, make it worse for himself, defend his actions, and take it VERY seriously and personally.

When he gets crazy and defensive and defiant, James and I say that Robs has left the chat, and his alter ego is a guy named Rick.

I hate when Rick shows up, lol.

-- Once, he went to his room and was muttering (not so quietly) "Mommy is being SO MEAN" and I swung open the door like, "What's that, sir?" and he was caught redhanded. He stopped right in his tracks and looked so guilty, lol.

-- He has these PJs he calls his "Sharkey is the Winners" -- long story -- but he used to change into them every day after school, without fail. They're actually starting to get kinda small on him, which makes me so so sad! He was obsessed with them for YEARS.

-- Robs is a great sleeper. He's often out like a light when I put him down. Bro eats a lot of cereal when he wakes up. He has a pretty great appetite, will try most foods, and he's just an easy kid, overall.

-- Before Robs went to MGIS, we used to drop Ana off and he'd say, "We'll miss our girl!"

-- He's very in touch with his emotions.

-- Went through a BIG Encanto phase.

-- Thinks our Roomba is alive -- named him "Monart." "Mommy, Monart is following me!" Where he got that name, I have no idea. I used to think he was saying MOZART. Nope, it's Monart.

-- He's very supportive. He'll say, "Good job going to yoga class, mommy!"

-- Before bed, we do something called BONKS KISSES or "hundreds of kisses." James and him have a new one called "saw kisses." I'm left out on that front. The bonks ones make a silly noise, and hundreds of kisses are exactly what they sound like. He'll say, "Can we do hundreds?" Or "Mommy, Daddy only gave me a few, and I asked for HUNDREDS OF KISSES."

-- He and James also do a fun game called "thank you for my SHARKEY!" where James pretends that Sharkey belongs to him, and Robby has just been watching him, so to speak, and then James snatches Sharkey out of his arms says the line and it gets big laughs, EVERY time, lolol.

-- There was another day Robby and James were "great men," and I have the funniest video on my phone. "Were you looking for some great men? Only the finest men live here," James says.

-- I probably said some of this already, but Robs is doing so well at German school. I feel like Ana gets a lot of credit for being super smart, which she is -- she's so perceptive and quick and emotionally intelligent ... but Robby's really sharp and bright, too. They're little sponges at this age, and it's so impressive to watch them soak up this new language that James and I don't even speak.

-- I don't fear tantrums in public, and haven't in quite some time. Like I kinda said, he's great in a group setting and when we're away from the house. It's just like, he gets triggered far too easily at home, and that's when he lashes out sometimes.

-- He makes humming noises when he eats; always has, ever since he was a baby, going "mmm" even while taking a bottle. Ana used to HATE THIS and yell "no singing while you eat, WOBBY!" but now we're all just so used to it. Sometimes we'll have people over and they'll be like, "Does he always do this?" and I forget that it's a thing. I'd miss it if it ever went away!

-- Robby and Ana think being bald is hysterical. I don't even know where this comes from. I heard Ana whispering some encouragement to him, right before his most recent haircut appointment, like, "Tell the lady you want blahblahblah" and I couldn't really decipher what exactly was being said. I kinda laughed it off, then forgot about it, and then his appointment was canceled because of a snowstorm. When we finally went back, a week or so later, he marched in confidently, I boosted him up onto the seat, and he told the stylist, "one bald head, please!"

Oh my good god, we just about lost it.

You could tell he knew this would go over well. He was delighted by how hard we were laughing. But he didn't push the issue. I did NOT let her shave his head, she never really considered this as a serious request, and only one other time, he said, "Wait, I wanted a bald head!" And I was like NO SIR YOU DO NOT.

I asked him later, "Did Ana tell you to request that?" And he said yes. We got home and I was like, ANALISA GANLEY, lol.

-- He will sit in a shark costume, watching a shark show, holding SHARKEY, trying to bite me like a shark. He's obsessed. He had a whole astronaut costume picked out this past fall for Halloween, and decided to wear his 2T shark costume instead. And then had the audacity to say, "Wait. This doesn't fit me right." I was like NO SHIT, BOB. I was a little irked, not gonna lie. And then, he dropped out of trick-or-treating halfway through, and came home to pass out candy with Jim, and Ana and I come home an hour later, and guess what he's wearing? His spider costume from a year or so ago.

Now we're just adding insult to injury, digging up multiple costumes of years past, while straight-up refusing to wear his *brand new space suit that he begged me for.* He told me later, "Mommy, that costume is just my around-the-house costume. Not my Halloween costume." I was like, WE DON'T GET AROUND-THE-HOUSE COSTUMES.

Oh my god, I'm laughing just remembering.

He did bomb one of my work calls while wearing the space suit months later, just like, pretending he was floating around in outer space, as I had to try to maintain a straight face and run the Zoom, and I was like, that's it. I retire from momming, lol.

-- Here are some of the funny things he's said to or about Bridget as a tiny baby:

• "Mommy, Bridget is being mean."
• "Bridget, did you get a haircut?"
• (As I was getting her dressed), "Bridget, PUSH YOUR LEG IN FOR MOMMY."
• "Hey, does Bridget know Baby Yoda?" (this was when she was like, days old. Yeah, all her friends told her about Baby Yoda on the playground).
• "What's Bridget having for dinner?"
• "Can I share some of my Pirate's Booty with Bridget?"
• <Bridget is crying, loudly; Robby is in his room across the hall.> "Bridget, Mommy SAID she was coming. BRIDGET. Bridgetttttt. Be quiet, Bridget! Bridget, you HAVE TO CALM DOWN!"

He loves his sister so much. He wants to grab her head (something a bit too much), sing to her, hold her, and tell her stories. At first, he was pretty guarded about the baby ... then one day it just all changed. "I'm ready to hold Bridget now, Mommy!" he told me. And it's been like that ever since.

My mom and I constantly wonder: Does he really think she's like a little person? Is he joking when he asks her if she's heard of Baby Yoda or wonders what she's having for dinner?

-- Went through a big "how dare you" phase. It started semi-seriously, and then morphed into a bit of a joke. One time, he just wouldn't stop coming out of his room at bedtime, and I really had to lay down the law and get mad. He took it all in, then quietly slunk out of the room and muttered under his breath: "Um, how dare you?"

OK, 10 million words later ... gonna wrap this blog up before it's 2024.

We love you, Robby James!

xoxo, Mama

Bridget Louise: A birth story

"On the night you were born, the moon shone with such wonder, that the stars peeked in to see you, and the night wind whispered, 'Life will never be the same.'"

--Nancy Tillman

----------------

Life really will NEVER be the same. We have a (long-awaited) third baby! 🥺

Meet Bridge

I wrote one of these for Analisa and I did a lil story for Robby, too -- I can't exactly leave Bridget out!

Read: Ana's birthday | Welcome, Robert James

So, here's how it all went down; welcoming this third little angel child into the world, that is. 🙂

Actually, we're going to rewind, and start about a week before she was born. You'll see why.

Let's go back to like, Nov. 2. (Bridget was due the 12th, btw).

That night, I started feeling contractions. It became a bit of a pattern, but it never seemed like official labor. I woke up for work that Thursday and was like, "HOW did I not have a baby overnight, I was really cramping there for awhile." I even mentioned it to my coworkers. (I'd been largely working from home in my final weeks pre-baby). But I thought the contractions were notable enough to mention online.

Also, just for context, I had done an ultrasound at ... 36 or 37 weeks? Just because of my advanced maternal age and my gestational diabetes, to make sure the baby was growing well and fluid levels were OK. And they told me at that time that she was about 7 1/2 pounds already. And at one of my most recent appointments, we also did a cervical check, and I was a bit effaced (I'm forgetting how much), and 3 centimeters dialated.

So yeah, all this to say, I thought the baby could easily come 10ish days early.

My doctor seemed to think so, too. At our last appointment, she had been like, "You're ready, this baby is a good size, but not too big, but especially it being your third, I think it'll be a nice delivery for you. She's super low, you've managed your GD well, etc. etc. etc."

Anyway, spoiler alert, I didn't have a baby Nov. 2. Or the 3rd. Or the 4th.

But one of those nights, errr, I believe it was the early morning hours of the 5th, I was *convinced* I was in labor. I was timing my contractions on this app I use for my doula work, those contractions were coming in five minutes apart, and so I texted my mom. I said something to the effect of, "Hey, could you possibly get on a plane and come here in a few hours?" And she said yes, of course.

I had been a little freaked out because I didn't have official childcare set up, like for Ana and Robby.

Meaning, even if my contractions got super intense, I wasn't sure who I'd call at like, 3 or 4 in the morning. Now, don't get me wrong -- I had a LOT of people offering! And I'm sure I would have taken them up on it, if it were an emergency. But I was breathing through things, I was doing OK, and so I told my body, "Just go back to sleep. Rest up. You likely have a big day ahead." And, somehow, I was able to go back to sleep.

I wake up and it's now Saturday morning.

The kids came and got me, actually, around 8 or 9, and I was like ... weird! I was very convinced I'd be having a baby today. Where did that pain go?

But contractions had been so real, that I still wanted my mom to come out.

I had a hunch that it was the right thing to do.

And that she did.

James and my friend Jen, who I'd been texting with, were both like, "You're DRIVING to pick her up from the airport? Is that smart?" But really, nothing hurt anymore. I wasn't freaked out that labor would start again suddenly and I'd be like, on the side of I-94, unable to drive.

Also, I was pretty convinced that I could get myself right back to that place of "almost having a baby," if I like, took some long walks, or drank the loose-leaf raspberry tea or whatever. I felt *close*.

And when I say the baby was extremely low and ready to come out -- I can't explain it. I just had a feeling.

So, I picked up my mom and we promptly went to the mall, lol. I really wanted this cozy robe I'd spotted a week or so ago, and so we swung by Nordstrom to snag it. Then we spent an extra hour or so just kinda walking around, in hopes of getting lil baby moving once again. We walk fairly fast, for what it's worth, so it was more than just a meander through the mall.

I was literally doing squats in Macy's, and then I came home and rested in bed with pillows stacked in between my legs like they would be if I had a peanut ball; I was really trying some things!

I'd alerted my doula of the situation, along with a handful of other friends, and at some point, I was getting near-constant texts like, "Any updates? What's happening over there?" And I just kept thinking that maybe labor would start again that night. Again, I'd had cramping and such the previous few nights ... it had to take off at some point, right?

Wrong.

The next day, Sunday, my dad did the drive and met us here. Still no baby.

No baby Monday.

No baby Tuesday.

I think this is the day I golfed 9 holes, and because it had just rained and it was super soggy, no golf carts were made available. Meaning, James and I walked the course. My iPhone said it was 3-4 miles.

Pre-golf

I didn't play too badly either, I got at least one par, lol.

No baby Wednesday, which was also my mom's birthday. We did go out to dinner though, as a little group, and it was super delicious and fun. Still, I was growing REALLY impatient for little one.

No baby Thursday. I walked 9 more holes with Jim, but didn't feel like golfing this time. The weather was so nice though. Still, now I was borderline annoyed -- my parents had been here for almost a week, and no baby?

No baby.

My mom made me take these, lol.

I will say, I started to feel kind of "off" Thursday night. I was just so run down and tired. I tucked myself into bed and prayed for the best.

And then, about 12:30 a.m., so technically, Friday morning at this point, I woke up to the feeling of my water breaking. It wasn't a huge tidal wave, like Robby's had been, but there was enough liquid there for me to feel confident -- this was it!

THANK GOD.

My water broke with Ana too (I'd been sitting on the couch, watching a show), then with Robs, and now Bridget. I hoped that it didn't mean baby was sunny side up, like Ana had been, because that was a super painful (and long!) labor.

Oftentimes, when your water breaks early, it's a sign of a malpositioned baby. Not like, breach vs. head down, but like, facing the wrong way, if you know what I mean. Hence, sunny side up.

Anyway, I was so overjoyed. My parents were going to have to go back likely by the late weekend, and I *did* have induction scheduled for Sunday night, but who tf wants to be induced?

Not me.

I woke James first, and suggested he call out of work. I ran downstairs and went into the guest room next, to tell my mom what was going on. She had wanted this wake-up call, as we'd had plenty of time to discuss how it'd all go down, in the days leading up to this point.

And from there, I just kinda messed around. I repacked my own hospital bag. I wrote notes to the kids' teachers, saying my parents would be picking them up from school. I wrote letters to the kids themselves, saying "Mommy misses you and can't wait to see you again soon!" which made me a little emotional. I brushed my teeth and changed my clothes and contractions really started to pick up. I got James out of bed and he threw together a bag.

We were ready!

My parents got in LOTS of practice doing the morning routine with the kids! 

When I had called triage in the midst of all of the above, I said my contractions were 5-9 minutes apart (but inconsistent) -- and they said c'mon in.

I'd kind of wanted to deliver in this one suburb, as my doctor has multiple locations where she takes patients, but they said:

a) Your doctor isn't on call tonight.
b) Dr. Backup What'shisname is on downtown campus duty tonight, if we wouldn't mind coming downtown.
c) Sry, boo.

Honestly though, whatever. We're kind of equidistant between the suburban hospital and the downtown location, and I've always said I truly don't care who delivers my kids. As long as someone is available! (Although I do like Dr. Jayne a lot. I've doula'd in the room with her twice).

Fun fact: This would now mark my third time getting the "backup" doctor.

So, we drove downtown. I was breathing through some pain and pressure in the car on the ride over, and I was like, telling myself, "You're solidly a 5 or a 6, great job." (Yes, I'm self-diagnosing here; I had no idea).

By the time we arrived, it was maybe 3 a.m.? Or 3:30? Some time around then.

We got all checked in, and went to this little triage room first, where they hooked me up to the monitors for about 10 minutes, just to make sure baby was OK. They also swabbed me, to see if indeed my water had broken, but they couldn't find any evidence of that, apparently. I was a bit annoyed, seeing as the same thing happened with Ana's delivery, and I asked, like, "Why does this even matter? I'm telling you my water broke. You really need to find like, proof?" (I did ask nicely, for what it's worth). And the resident was just like, "Yeah, because otherwise, and if things don't progress with you quickly, we have to send you home. We can't just keep everyone here."

BTW, the same resident just checked me at 4 cm dialated -- after walking around at a 3 for a week or two! WHAT GIVES.

Turns out, my self-diagnosis of a 5 or a 6 had been bullshit.

I was frustrated. Also, like, I knew what I was experiencing. My water had broken. I didn't just pee my bed overnight, lol.

But I was only a 4? Ugh. My contractions hurt, too. This was not the 4 I'd experienced in the past.

Now I was starting to doubt everything.

But I held onto one fragment of hope: The doctor/resident would be back in an hour or 90 minutes, and I needed to progress, and quickly. I WOULD NOT BE GOING HOME, lol.

If I've learned anything in my brief career as a doula, it's that you rarely jump from a 2 to a 10 just by sitting around, watching TV, cozy in bed. You often have to make yourself a bit uncomfortable in order to get there. So, that's what I did -- we were in this tiny triage closet (or, that's what it felt like!), and although I desperately wanted to like, get unpacked, settle into a labor suite, change into my intended delivery clothes, sniff my peppermint oil for nausea and my lavender for calm, relaxing vibes ... I straddled the lil bed/chair thing I was perched on, facing the back wall. And then I did the pillow/peanut ball thing. I put a ton of pillows between my legs, laid down on my side, and hoped baby was descending.

I just could not get comfortable. I was having a really hard time getting my breath under me, if that description makes any sense. This hasn't been a problem in the past; I kinda pride myself on being able to stay super calm, suuuuuper relaxed, and just breathe.

But this time? PHEW I was struggling. I just wasn't comfy. I know I said that already, but there is no better description. You can't breathe through shit if you're like, not in a physically ideal space. I wanted my own labor suite so bad.

At one point, contractions were coming in fast and hot. I told James, "I will be damned if I'm not going through transition right now," but the resident on call and the few nurses who stopped by, didn't seem too concerned or fazed by it. I think they popped me back up on the monitors one more time to look at baby and/or contractions, but then they took me off again pretty quickly, and they were just like, "looks good!"

Another nurse stopped by and asked if we planned on doing this naturally. James was like, "yep!" And I mean, we had in the past, I'm scared of that epidural needle, and he had no reason to think otherwise.

But I was just NOT as confident as he was.

I kept thinking, "What if we get sent home? What if my life is like this for 12 more hours? Should I turn down my one shot at a little relief?"

I was ready to say anything necessary just to get moved to a real room.

Ana and Robby were fairly slow births, btw -- Ana at about 24 hours, Robby at 12. I had no idea at that point, that I was so close to being done. And that nurse actually told me, if I planned on doing things naturally, they were more reluctant to check me in. I don't know why that was ... I guess I didn't need to schedule time to meet with the anesthesiologist, and I'd require fewer nurses/people around for IVs and such?

I was feeling a little panicky and desperate, tbh.

Finally, it'd been a good hour or 90 minutes, and the doctor came back in to do a determining check.

This would decide if I could indeed get admitted into an L&D room, or if I should head back. James, by the way, said he never had a doubt. We were staying, he says confidently, three weeks later. 🤣

I was just so scared of getting sent home, I didn't know who or what to believe.

Anyway, they check me, I'm nauseated as hell and threatening to throw up everywhere, and the resident says I'm an 8 and my bag of waters IS gone. (I was right!)

They're like, "OK, let's get you loaded up and find a room!" and just as they're helping me onto this wheelchair, my body gets that familiar urge. I need to push. Bad.

So I yelp, "I NEED TO PUSH NOW THOUGH!" and everyone's like, "Don't do that, you have to wait!" But like, it's hard to keep a baby inside when it's time. So I start getting all, "I can't wait! I can't wait!" and the next thing I know, two nurses, plus me in the wheelchair with my legs dangling off the sides awkwardly, and a James trailing behind with all our bags -- we are like, jogging through the hospital at a good clip, and I'm trying to keep this baby inside me and relax my breath, and good lord, I don't think I'm an 8. I think I'm a 10.

We get into our room, I meet the backup doctor, and he's like, "let me quick check that 8 before we have you push," and yes, he confirms: I'm a full-ass 10. He tells me to go for it.

It was so surreal.

"Right now?"

Yes.

I was ready, apparently.

I hadn't even been IV'd or on the monitors in quite some time, but the next thing I know, another contraction is coming roaring through, and strong -- and I'm pushing. I do remember saying (in a tentative, scared lil voice that I almost didn't recognize), "I don't know if I remember how to do this! I'm a little scared!"

But the nurses were like, "You are FINE, you are there, just push this baby out."

My doula training then kicked in, and everything I've repeated to my clients, came rushing into my brain.

"Chin to chest, bear down, steady breath?"

Yes.

Two pushes later and she was out. I heard myself yell a ferocious roar (again, new for me), and I felt that warm, strange sensation of a baby passing through my body, and the fluids rushing out -- sorry if that part's a little TMI. It was suchhhhh a relief to have some of that pressure alleviated. It happened almost instantly.

I had asked for James to call out the sex, as in, we'd just discussed this in the car on the ride over, and he forgot, lol.

They kinda held her up to me, and I saw right away that she was a girl, and I was so, so happy. And surprised! Like, how was she here already? It was almost like, disbelief.

I had another daughter? It was an out-of-body moment ... like I was on the outside, looking in.

Bridgey Lou

It was kind of funny, too: During Ana and Robby's births, or at least, the pushing stage, James had been like, helping hold one of my legs, giving me verbal encouragement, rubbing my head, etc. This time? He had low blood sugar. He was like, "Yeah, the doctors probably thought I was such a scumbag. You were doing your final push, and I plopped on the couch and busted open a Powerbar. Took a big bite. Didn't watch her come out."

He didn't cut the cord, either. The doc was like, "Want to do your thing, sir?" And James was like, "Nah, I'm good. You guys can handle it." We laughed about that after the fact. Third baby vibes, lol.

If you don't know James, you might think this sounds mean or strange. He's just James. My James. I love him so much; I don't care who cuts the cord either, lol.

Anyway, what else?

She came out and looked just like Ana. Time stood still. I didn't cry; it was like, too shocking, or my body/brain hadn't had time to register that this moment had finally arrived.

It was surreal: Looking at her little face, realizing this was probably the last time I'd do this (give birth, meet one of my children), and SHE didn't even cry, either.

I had just doula'd at a bit of a traumatic birth, about 3 weeks earlier, and when the baby came out silent (and her heart rate had dropped super low leading up to that moment), it was cause for concern. She was rushed into the hands of some doctors, and it took about 8 minutes to get her to make that first peep. But -- thank goodness -- my situation wasn't that. I think I asked at some point, "Should she be crying?" And the nurses were just like, "She's a calm little one! Enjoy it." For probably the first hour or so, she just made lil squeaks and squawks while I loved on her and rubbed her vernix in, warmed her up on my chest with skin-to-skin, nursed her, etc. I was instantly smitten, but also like, in unbelievable shock.

I know I've said that 12 different ways. It took me HOURS to fully realize that I had labored that quickly and now had my daughter earthside.

I just kept being like, "Jim! I wasn't ready! Did you have any idea it could happen that fast? How did I go from a 4 to a 10? She's here! She's a girl! Did you know she'd be a girl? Do I really have hunches, or have I lucked out with 3 guesses in a row?"

And I thought I wasn't going to get the shakes post-birth, but then I got them. I've gotten violent shakes now 3 times after childbirth. It's like my body can't calm down.

I was so happy I brought my own warm blankets.

Oh, and because I didn't have an IV in when the baby was born, they hit me with a shot of Pitocin in the thigh to help deliver my placenta. I had a slight injury (tear), but not a bad one, that they patched up fairly quickly. I do remember feeling like it was all taking a long time; like, I just wanted to skip to the good part, where I could cuddle Bridge on my chest with only James in the room. Between the fundal massage, the stitches, the few other things they needed from me ... I was READY just to cuddle my sweet fam.

I will say, the miracle of natural childbirth is insane. I was severely, severely uncomfortable, feeling the most intense pressure of my life, 20 minutes earlier. Then you deliver the baby and it just kind of melts away. I was so zen. And then I was up on my feet an hour later, on cloud nine. I was tired but at so much peace.

She was HERE. 🥰

As for the name, we'd always really liked Bridget. If Robby had been a girl, he'd have been Bridget. I actually told my parents back in 2017 that they couldn't name their new dog Bridget, because I felt like as someone growing a human child, I could call dibs, lol. (Btw, yes, Winnie the Berner could have been Bridget. Sorry, Winns!) I like the name Winnie better, fwiw.

I think I briefly entertained the idea of Bridget early on, but then dismissed it for whatever reason. We played around with the names Alice, Rosie (Ana's pick), Claire, Miriam (Miri), Mia, Carly, Camille (pronounced like Emily in Paris -- "Cam-ee"), probably 50 more, but we just couldn't see eye-to-eye on anything. Or like, we'd ALMOST pick, and then James or I would be like, "Wait, we can do better than that, can't we?"

I swear, it was like, a week before the baby was born, and we still hadn't firmed anything up, and I asked Jim, "Wait, why did we rule out Bridget? I loved Bridget. Can we name her Bridget?"

And he was like, "Yes. I like Bridget, too."

And that was the closest thing we'd had to an easy decision.

Bridget would be the name!

Louise is after my grammy -- I actually loved Louise or Louisa for a first name, but I thought having an Analisa and a Louisa was a bit much. Using her name as Bridget's middle just made more sense.

Our boy name, btw, was Joey.

Phew, what else to sayyyy?

The kids meeting Bridget, will probably remain one of my most cherished memories for all time. I wish I could bottle it. Robby walked in and announced in a proud but slightly timid voice, "Hi Bridget! It's me, Robby, your big brother." 🥺

Ana just wanted to hold her the WHOLE time. I had the three of them all up on the bed at some point, and my heart felt so full. It reminded me of that song from "Sound of Music," I think it's "Something Good"?

Just like, what did I do to deserve such happiness? So somewhere in my youth or childhood/I must have done something good.

I was also such a wreck, for so much of this pregnancy, just like, scared to miscarry again, or even sneeze the wrong way. And here, right in front of my own two eyes, I had three perfect babies. All on my lap. All at once. All so happy.

Life can be so, SO good.

Bridget is my smallest bear, coming in at 7 pounds, 12 ounces. Honestly, I did TOO well with the gestational diabetes ... lol, which sounds silly to say, but I will note, cutting nearly all carbs and sugar, I think I only gained like, 15 pounds? Is that a humble brag? And I felt ginormous. But I kept things under control, big time.

GD was a little miserable, but it's over now, and I should probably write a blog post about that topic alone. You know who didn't feel bad for me? My Type 1 husband, who I now feel for x 1,000.

I had "diabetes" for 12 weeks and it was *hard*. I so wish he could pop out a baby and end his, too. (That sounds funny, but hopefully, you know what I mean!)

I celebrated the end of my GD journey with a bagel and a boujee latte, two things I'd so desperately missed.

So yeah, even though it was a hard final week, awaiting this delivery and feeling like we were on a bit of a time crunch, I think everything happened just as it should have.

My parents were able to watch the kids and meet Bridget (they came to the hospital while Ana and Robby were still in school that Friday!)

My doula didn't make it in time, but that's my fault, really; I didn't want to call her up to the hospital without even having a L&D room, when they'd been threatening to send me home!

We texted her when I was at an "8" (you know, all 4 minutes of that), and then I had James tell her to stand down, probably 20 minutes later, once the baby was delivered.

I just would have felt really bad for wasting her time; hence why I didn't text sooner. Lesson learned, I suppose.

We were discharged from our hospy stay within 24 hours. It was fairly uneventful. We got home, and it's like, life goes on! James went out to buy a new vacuum. I sat with Ana for probably an hour to help with homework packet. It was like, this is just the new normal!

Bridget remains just the absolute best.

All of her doctors appointments have gone perfectly. She's so sweet, makes the best, most expressive faces, she lovvvvves being held (which is good, because I will hold her forever! I don't believe you can hold a baby too much; that's not a thing), and I think she's learning to adjust to our LOUD household.

She does hate diaper changes, but that's like, her only thing.

B sleeps all day and actually gives me decent stretches of shut-eye at night.

I'm off work. I'm receiving $0, F this country, lol. Not sure when I'll go back! Probably sooner rather than later, but from home.

And I got thrown into this "solo parenting 3" thing because James and I got incredibly sick about a week and a half after Bridge was born (and he was worse), but like, that too, is a blog entry for another day.

We're a lot better now, and that's what counts!

So, there you have it. As for the delivery itself, could I have advocated for myself better, and could it have gone better? I mean, probably.

I can't decide what's worse -- laboring slowwwwwly for 24 hours, or having it all come so fast. Honestly, that was HARD. It was hard before, more so mentally, but like ... phew. Am I over it? Yes and no.

But it's difficult to be mad or even grumpy about any of it, considering the outcome. I now have two daughters. I got to give Ana a sister! 🥺 And as someone who always wanted a sister, I'm so happy for her/jealous/will live vicariously through her/am really proud of my body for what it's been capable of, and I'm just kinda feeling ALL THE THINGS these days.

OK, I'll have more eventually!

This was a little bit of a jumble, especially timeline wise, so I'll sign off the same way I ended Robby's birth story: If you read this far, you deserve a medal. It feels weirdly good to type these out, so thanks for hanging!

xoxo

Theeee (way too long) Disney blog!

Edited to add: I would NOT do Memory Maker - we skipped it and I was so glad. Who wants to stand in more lines for sub-par, corny staged pics? You know your kids best. Take your own photos!

"But now I am 6 / I'm as clever as clever / So I think I'll be six now, for ever and ever."

That A.A. Milne quote in my headline is from this poem, btw, if you were wondering.

-------------

Let's talk about our girl Anz! You know that phrase -- something like, "To know her is to love her?"

That's our girl.

You can't just meet her and feel indifferent. Maybe that's all kids, and of course, as her mom, DUH, I'm going to find her extra special. But really, I see how other people react to her and fall for her infectious personality, and I just think she's the most delightful little treat of a human being I've ever known.

I'll take her with me some days, just to like, make a return at TJ Maxx or run out for some more stamps, because she's such a little friend, and I enjoy her so much.

OK, and then other days, I forget she's still just a lil nugget, and she'll beg me for Cheez-Its the whole outing ("The white kind are cheesier! Why can't we ever get the white kind?"), and the other day at Party City she was *rolling* down the dirty aisle, on the floor, like some kind of lunatic, and I kinda DO have to remind myself that she's 5 -- or 6 now! -- but for the most part, she's so, so good.

She makes the funniest observations. She's so smart and clever. Sometimes TOO clever; she knows how to push my buttons, too. Girlfriend can drive me up a wall when she wants to, but like, that's part of the job, I guess!

Seriously though, every mom should have an Ana.

What did I do to deserve her?

I'm just so proud. Words cannot explain.

She is an absolute delight. She wakes up happy, goes to bed happy (well, most of the time; the Robs bickering can be a definite thing post-dinnertime), and she skips absolutely everywhere she goes. As in, she doesn't walk, and she doesn't run. She does a lil kindergarten skip. Some days, when James picks her up from school, I'll peer out the window just to watch her bound up the front lawn and then the steps, and skip inside.

She used to come home from school kinda drained, but lately, she's just like, chattering a mile a minute, telling me about what was for lunch, or who she played with at recess, or what Frau Eisenberg said during quiet time that made her laugh.

She talks a LOT, and James is always like, "I wonder where she gets it," or "You were probably the EXACT same way."

Oh, and I was.

Ana was being a litttttttle extra at Thanksgiving, just like, interrupting the table with "Raise ya hand if you like turkey! ... Raise ya hand if your name starts with an A!" And my mom was like, "Oh, this was YOU, btw."

It's all true.

She even talks like me, which I think I've mentioned before, and it's funny, because I hear it, too. I'll be like, "Where did she get that?" ... "Oh yeah, me, I guess."

"What in the HECK, Mommy?" or "Mommy, you're never going to believe what Ruby said at school!" or "OK Mommy, what do you want first, the good news, or the bad news?" And even, "Robby is going to *die* when he sees this sharky shirt!"

She's such a tiny adult.

Ana, btw, only wants to be called ANA these days, and nottttt Analisa (which breaks me, but it's fine). I'm letting her become her own person on some of this stuff. She picks her own outfits, and they're bad-bad some days. I'm just like, "seasonally appropriate, please!" And she knows what that means. But she WILL come down in her bathing suit otherwise.

I'm also no longer forcing ponytails, because she hates them, and it recently dawned on me: I don't wear or like my hair up EVER, so why should I make her do it?

She loves her friends (dearly - we are SO happy to be back at school IRL after almost an entire year of virtual in 2020!), play dates, doing your hair as if she's your stylist at a salon, playing "restaurant," or playing school with Robby (her school name is Callie Wallie, Rob's is Christian Robinson), DANCING but not in a dance-class kind of way (tried that), we just dance everywhere we go now, casually; also drawing, most snack foods under the sun, going out to eat, and she willlllll impress you with her vast knowledge of Milwaukee restaurants: "Can we go to Buckley's, Mommy? No? How about Story Hill?" ... "Um, ma'am, it's a Monday at 4 p.m. Take a breath."

She can be an adventurous eater at times, and absolutely as picky as can be, other days. You just don't know what you're going to get.

She still can't say her Ls. That's like, one of the ONLY baby things she's holding onto, but I'm not here to correct her. Remember when I taught Robby that it's a polar bear, and not a poe-bear?

Dumb of me.

I miss poe-bear.

So, Little Miss Anz marches around the house talking about the "lellow" sun and "Why does daddy have to lell at Robby?" And I just let. It. Slide.

Oh, and she still wants to sleep in our bed. We let her, some nights, but tend to move her in the night.

She just wants to make you laugh. And when she figures out what it is, exactly, that's gonna get you there, she'll just harp on it again and again. Girl really beats a dead horse, lol. But because it's Ana, it's cute and endearing. She just loves people, and figuring everyone out, and connecting with you.

She enjoys adults almost as much as other kids, too. When I told her I was going to Natalie's without her once, she got like, very hurt. "But you said it was girls night, and I'm one of the girls!"

Ugh, that one stung!

I mentioned once that Courtney, my friend (who is Ana's friend Annie's mom), would probably love to see Ana's Halloween costume, and I swear, Ana asked every week, or every time we saw Courtney, "Can I show Courtney my dress now? She's gonna love it! She's gonna freak!"

lol WHO is this tiny human?

German school is going so well! I love it for her. She's thriving. She's starting to learn SO much, like full phrases, and she doesn't love when I put her on the spot, like in front of my mom on FaceTime. But she will sprinkle in more and more German into everyday conversation, and I think partly because she knows how much I love it. I'm just so proud of her. (I think I've said that a few times, but like), not only is she thriving in kindergarten, but like, it's entirely in another language.

I'd type more examples if I knew how to spell in German, lol.

Ana's starting to learn how to read, and can identify and write most letters and numbers, and I just learned more about what that'll mean at school, the other day. That's an explanation for another time! But I'm genuinely looking forward to school stuff as she progresses.

She adores Girl Scouts.

We did a six-week soccer session, but the verdict was still out by the end. Some days she was into it, other days, not so much. She says she's gonna be "a runner girl, like mommy," (and also a "writer-princess," (like mommy?) but who knows. 🙂You be whoever and whatever you wanna be, angel face.

She's even showing interest in chess, which is big at our school, so that would be cool! I'm trying to encourage it, despite the fact that I never learned, and don't know ANYTHING about chess. Queen's Gambit got me intrigued though.

What else can I share?

Ana is incredibly intuitive. She picks up on everything. She wants to chat with strangers in line at the grocery store. "Hey, you've seen Blue-y, right?" she asked the woman behind us at Metro Market. I was cracking up. I don't know where she gets this. My friend Rachael and I were wondering if being cooped up inside for the better part of a full year made the kids more social.

It's like, sure, I'm outgoing now, but I was a shyyyyy child. And this certainly didn't come from James, which you know already if you've met James, lol.

Ana got dose one of the COVID vax last week, and didn't make a peep. She got her flu shot in the same arm, and didn't flinch, either. She was dancing in the waiting area beforehand, making everyone around her smile. It's never a thing like, "Ana, can you dance?" That's just her. If we're ever just waiting in line, around the house, out to eat or even out in the yard, she's filling the space with her big arms and graceful twirls. If you've seen our family pics, you know a lot of this was captured, and I just lovvvvve that so much. It was like, Ana in her natural state.

She's even starting to learn pop culture stuff, which is a little surreal. She came home from school one day and said Violet told her all about Jojo, so we watched Dancing With the Stars a few times and cheered on our girl J (Team Iman though, amIriiiiiight?)

The other day, she started singing "Wildest Dreams" by Taylor Swift -- a little botched at times, but I totally recognized it. I turned it on my Spotify and she was like, "Yes, Mommy I LOVE THIS ONE!" but she also asks such good questions about the lyrics. "Say you'll remember me? Say you'll see me again? Where is this person GOING -- tell her to come back then!"

She's the same way with books. "That's a funny word! What does that line mean? ... I looked at the picture and that's how I knew! Look at his eyebrows."

She just notices. Attention to detail is through the roof.

Btw, after "Wildest Dreams" last week, she requested that T-Swift "Welcome to New York" song, and then I taught her part of the "Single Ladies" dance, just in the car, some hand/arm stuff, and she had me in stitches.

It's so hard to record everything on Snapchat or take every picture, but I really do try my best. I just don't want to forget these moments.

Related/unrelated ...

I've always found it weird when parents will write on social media, like, some form of, "Thank you, sweet child, for picking me to be your mother."

Um, that's not exactly how it works, Linda, you can build these tiny creatures into whatever you'd like, no one *selected* you, but anyway, rant aside, I really have made myself a tiny best friend. And I could squeeze her till the end of time.

I'm sitting here smiling as I type this, because she's just a pumpkin and it's been the best six years of my life.

Ana is theeeee most lovable lil girl on the planet. She's never been a big snuggler like Rob, but lately, she's been letting me kiss her delicious, squishable, big ol' cheeks, and I'm just wishing I could bottle this. I honestly don't know WHERE these past six years have gone.

I don't even remember some of the early months, they're fuzzy as hell, and I'll see these baby pictures, and it just feels like a lifetime ago already.

I swear, some days, just the hours of 4-8 p.m. take four years, but then you wake up on your daughter's sixth birthday, and it makes you choke up because it's just SO fleeting. Time is a thief or whatever, ya know?

Remember in The Office, when Andy is like, "I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them"? (Actually, I laugh at my mom for referencing "the good old days" way too often in a similar context).

But like, this? This is it. We're in 'em.

Happy 6th birthday, to my big, sweet girl.

The pandemic blog: LIFE since the move

Hiiii! Does anyone want to join me for the longest catch-up blog of all time? Grab a coffee or a Millie because ... this bout to get DEEP.

I sometimes joke and open a blog post, "It's been too long!" and it'll have been like, a month or two since my last writing -- but honestly, wtf. I haven't even opened the blog since January. I kinda wanted to some days, but mostly I just felt mentally exhausted and never had the time or energy. It's been a weird year. For everyone, really, but throwing in an emotional out-of-state move certainly didn't help.

Here's some more about that, and what's been up with us:

-- We're now in Milwaukee.

-- I had some feelings about this (I mean, I still do, but I'm largely better).

-- I took on a million new responsibilities at work.

-- A global pandemic broke out.

-- And it hasn't gone away.

-- And it maybe never will.

-- And our kids are 2 and 4.

-- And James works overnights.

-- And we've been through 9 million sitters.

Phew.

There should probably be a whole separate entry just about Milwaukee. How it all came to be! The move! The new house! But not today. The gist of it is, we always said we were happy in Michigan -- but for the right job, we'd entertain the idea of another move. And then James actually got that offer. It was like, a better position, at a better station, in a better market, making more money, and my boss said I could go, no problem, and continue to work from home -- so at some point, it was like ... OK, we *have* to do this, right? Right.

So, many tears later, here we are. It's a little lonely some days, especially considering it remains a weird time to try to make friends or host lil-kid playdates. But ... we did it. Things only get better from here (I hope).

Oh, and I do hope to return to Michigan someday -- I think James is a little bit more indifferent on where we end up, but yeah, you know where I stand. We could be here a few years, we could be here for the rest of our lives. That's the thing about news jobs and a husband who's still not done climbing. You just never know. 🤷‍♀️But like, speaking of that, should we get all-new windows for our house? Or prepare to move again rather quickly? See, this is why this shit's TRICKY.

So, leaving Grand Blanc was sad, in a word. I really liked it there. Flint's obviously kinda shitty, but like any city, it has its good parts and bad. I loved our lil routine involving the farmers market every Saturday morning, dinners at Cork, wings at Kickers, etc. I really grew to like some of the parents tied to Ana's school. So that made things feel worse. We'd just gotten into the swing of things, and like, time to call the moving truck.

James needed to get here before we did. He lived in a hotel downtown for a month or so, if I'm remembering correctly.

I came with the kids in late February. And then we had about two weeks to get settled before corona madness took over. To this day, my Michigan people will ask me, like, "How's Wisconsin?" and I'm all, "I'll let you know, I guess." It's just weird. We live in Milwaukee proper -- the biggest city in the state, so COVID cases are higher here than anywhere else in WI, obvs. I don't feel like I'm in any more danger here vs. anywhere else, but our state also opened up again fairly quickly this spring. A lot of Milwaukee businesses didn't -- they're smarter than that. Many have chosen to remain takeout only, to this day, or they're operating under weird hours and rules. So we've ... slowly but surely, been able to start seeing the city a bit more. It's so different. This summer was supposed to be like, DNC, Bucks winning the title, SummerFest -- and I guess the Bucks still could, but like, even if they do bounce back vs. the Heat, we won't be hosting, because of the bubble sitch in Orlando. Instead, it's a quiet little summer. I'll meet people and they'll be like, "This is your first time here? Worst summer everrrrr, I'm so sorry."

It's cool though. I got drunk on a boat in like, June, while we rolled through downtown and I was like, "I can see the appeal here."

The Milwaukee Children's Museum seems amaz (we went 2-3 times in those two-ish weeks pre-COV). Y'all know I fuxed with the Flint CM hard -- we went constantly!

And we *just* stumbled upon this great lil pool/water park sitch. I think they're closing Labor Day weekend, so that's kind of a downer, but it's good to know about for next summer!

We've done mini road trips, too: a drive-thru zoo (omg this was terrible actually; deserves its own post), Madison, we have a park/beach we love right on Lake Michigan, Oshkosh, the Chicago area, Oconomowoc has a nice downtown/kids beach ... so things are good. MKE feels v Midwest, v familiar.

Oh and the grandmas have sent over some fun items to keep bear-bears entertained during quarantine: oversized coloring sheets, books, a kite, a see-saw, soakers, scooters, etc. SO nice.

But hey, you're here to read about my precious children, aren't you?

K, so we arrived and we had to like, unpack, get settled, like I mentioned, James goes into work now at like, 2 in the morning, we're learning this new routine, I had to find a new babysitter so I could actually work -- and I'm all like, "I can hold off a few weeks on Analisa's schooling. It's fine. We'll get there."

Plus, it took me awhile to call around and find a preschool that actually had mid-year openings. I finally tracked down somewhere reasonable, and here's how it went: She started, she loved it, her teachers in Michigan totally told me, "She'll forget about us in no time, just throw her in somewhere new, she's the perfect age for it!" We were justtttt heading in that direction when, COV. Ana went to St. John's for one week -- as in, two half-days -- and everything shut down. Painful. Do you think you're hurting over the 'VID? Try being my 4-year-old. She's like, "What ever happened to my Michigan school friends AND my Milwaukee school friends? When will I see them again?" OMG lil one, I don't know how to explainnnn this. Maybe never? 😬F.

She's been really great through everything though. Seriously -- some hard days in the weeks following the move, but she's such an angel.

She had a best friend in Grand Blanc, her name was Kid-livia (there was a babysitter named Olivia and a 5-year-old friend named Olivia: hence "kid" Olivia / "Kid-livia"); in fact, she still misses KL to this day and asks about her constantly. So that was a downer.

But whenever Ana was kinda difficult in those early weeks, I keep telling myself, "She's not giving me a hard time, she's having a hard time." Imagine being 4 and having to move to a new state. She knew I was upset about it, too. She'd try to take my side, like, "Mommy, I like the old house better ALSO," and I'd realize real quick that I needed to adjust my attitude and examine how vocal I was being about our living situation, lol.

Wanna hear some funny/cute Ana stories?

So, this winter felt kinda brutal -- stuck inside all day, it's freezing out, there isn't shit to do. Ana and I started this ritual of an afternoon walk. The boys would typically nap most weekdays, and we'd bundle up and head out, even if it was just for 20 minutes. The fresh air felt nice. We still try to do this, although not as often lately, seeing as Robby's nap schedule is all over the place and we're outside a little bit more anyway throughout the day, seeing as it's warm. ANYHOW. So we're on a walk this one afternoon, and I decided I'd have a lil heart-to-heart with the Anz. So I'm like, "You know how daddy and I talk about 'the germs?' As in, we can't go to school because it's too germy? There's this thing called coronavirus ..." and I explain it as best as I can to a 4-year-old.

I think I did a pretty decent job, too, all things considered.

She's quiet, she's seemingly listening, and I think I'm about done, so I'm like, "Do you have any questions, Bear?" And she's just like, "Um, YEAH." And without missing a beat, she's all, "Who ya like better, Olaf or Kristoff?"

Like ... guaranteed, she was only half-listening. And most definitely just thinking about "Frozen" the whole time. This b is *obsessed* with Frozen, and actually, I'd like to take this time to NOT THANK Disney+ for making the movie available early. Because I had just purchased it on Amazon Prime like, the day beforehand. Wtf, you guys.

Seriously though, that story makes me laugh. Even now, I'm kinda giggling to myself like some kind of weirdo as I type it out, and that feels like a million years ago. I have a hunch that if we were to have the same conversation today, about corona and what it means, she'd be much more receptive. Or maybe it depends on the day? So much can change in just a few months. She just seems so mature and grown-up these days. She knows 20 state capitals (I'm teaching them to her as a lil experiment; girlfriend has a sponge for a brain), her vocabulary is on point, and she's not only book smart. She's incredibly emotionally intelligent and empathetic, and this is probably what I'm most proud of.

If we have an argument before bed (which isn't often, but every now and then), she'll cry and say, "I hate this, mama. I don't want to fight. I want to love." (This just happened like, two weeks ago and touched my actual soul). I accidentally pulled her hair once while brushing it and she said, "I didn't like that, mommy, because it felt like when Baby Robby pulls my hair for no reason -- and you would never do that to me." OMG tears.

Also like, I've read up just a lil on how to teach empathy to children, but I don't do anything that official or intentional. We do talk when we're reading, like, "How do you think that must have made Corduroy feel, to be all alone in that big department store?" And putting ourselves in other people's shoes. And I don't know if that's what did it -- but she is SO sweet and puts herself in other people's spaces constantly. For example: We were finally driving to visit my parents -- we met them at Natalie's actually in Kalamazoo, so that neither of us had to do a big long drive -- and it had been a few months since we last saw them. That's like, unheard of for us. Trips to Meese and Grandbob's in Royal Oak used to be a weekly occurrence! So, we're in the car, and we had talked a little bit about how fun it would be to have this little Saturday all together again, and Ana's like, out of the blue, "Mama, are you excited to see your mommy and daddy? Do you miss them? Who are you going to hug first, Meese, or Grandbob?" Like, what? What 4-year-old asks her mom that?

And before bed, we always do like, highs and lows, best and worst parts of the day -- that, or three things you're grateful for, and if I forget, Ana will just be like, "Mama, highs and lows? Mama, three things you're grateful for?" Final thing on this topic, Kid-livia's dad Kory was like, my best Grand Blanc friend, and we sometimes talk about missing KL and how hard that is for Ana. She'll ask me too, sometimes out of nowhere, "Mama, Kory was your friend, too. Do you miss your friend like I miss mine?" I think it's important not to do the thing where parents tend to be like, "It's fine it's fine it's fine. You're fine! We're fine."

This was a major life transition.

I'll tell her too, "Kory was such a good friend to me! Of course I miss him. Sometimes I wish we could drive back for the day and play like we used to!" Kory and I let the girls FaceTime a few times, and I was nervous at first, like, is it better just to move on? But they jumped on their respective beds "together" and it brought tears to my eyes, just how sweet the moment was.

She is incredibly loving and thoughtful. She'll tell me, "I love you with my WHOLE HEART," and she used to just want to be a princess when she grew up (I know, something practical), but now she tells everyone she wants to be a "writer princess. Because mommy is a writer!"

I could ramble about that sweet little pumpkin all day. I know she misses her friends. I can't wait to get back to real life, mostly for her sake. I have confidence she'll be fine no matter what -- and that goes for almost anything in life. But she just has this zest. She loves being around others and making people laugh or impressing them with the words she knows. My friends taught her to say "coronaVYRIS" like Cardi B and she'll just walk around the playground making the other moms spit out their coffee, laughing.

Spoiler alert: My friends did get to visit! It was the best thing ever and I miss them even more now.

What else ... Ana was super obsessed with dinosaurs, but she's starting to back off them because she thinks they're just for boys. I hate that shit. She still loves Dino Dana though, and her knowledge base is off the chainnnnn. She'll be like, "Mama, is a Titanoboa a dinosaur?" and I'm like, over here eating chips, "ehm, I don't think that's a thing at all actually," and she'll roll her eyes, "No it's not a dinosaur, MAMA, it's a prehistoric snake."

Then why did you ask, trick?

She still hits me with the best questions.

"Mama, how did humans get here?"

"Um. Adam and Eve? Wait, shoot. Evolution? This is contentious actually. James? Have we discussed this? I think humans just sorta ... came to be."

"What does DAT MEAN DOE?"

James, from the other room: "Yeah, hey Michelle, what does that mean?"

😂😂😂

She knows my name is Michelle. Sometimes if I'm not responding fast enough, she'll be like ...

"Michelle."

"Michelle Patricia."

"Michelle MOOSH MOOSH MOOSH Ganley!"

"Michelle ... Ortlieb?"

<omg why does she know my maiden name?>

Also it was very ambitious of us ... we have like, one of the best schools in the city at the end of our block, and it's German immersion, meaning, the kids learn German off the bat and are quickly immersed in it -- they will become fluent at some point (soon).

Oh and then corona happened and then virtual schooling happened and now my daughter has a German teacher and hey it's me/I don't speak any German! lol I'm halfffff-kidding about that part. Ana has a teacher. But like, Milwaukee Public is all online to start the year, no in-person option provided, so guess who's sitting alongside her everyday? Helloooooo. (I'd type "hello" in German, but I don't know the word, lol).

I'll try to wrap up this Analisa section soon, but she's just too fun. I can't stopppp/said every mom ever.

Like I mentioned, she's very advanced in her language skills, but she has a few shortcomings. Number one, she still pronounces some stuff wrong. My mom and I actually kinda love it and we don't ever want her to change.

"sump-ing" = something
"bee-anna" = banana
"lelling" = yelling ("why is Daddy "lelling" at Robby?")
"yunch" = lunch

Truly one of the only negatives with her is, she justtttttt may never overnight potty train. She's great during the day -- all day, every day. Never an accident. But like, for comparison's sake, Robby often wakes up dry. He's *very aware* of his diaper and he doesn't want it on him if it's wet. He's pretty advanced in this regard. Ana, on the other hand, who could probably memorize the Gettysburg Address, wakes up with a very full Pull-Up every morning. She probably wouldn't even change out of it right away unless I asked her to. It doesn't seem to bother her as much as it should. I think she takes some comfort in it, if anything. Sometimes she'll put it on when we're getting ready for bed, and pee in it right away. I'm like, "nah girl, why you gotta play me like that?" We've talked about the idea of staying dry overnight, we've cut down liquids past a certain hour of the evening -- I think she's finally becoming a little more aware of it? But we have a ways to go.

You can't have everything, I guess.

Like everything else, I'm sure one day it'll just CLICK and no longer be a thing. But as she inches closer and closer to 5, I'm like, "How do you know half of our country's state capitals and you can't do this one thing?" I'm not trying to rush her to grow up ... but yeah, if I could stop buying Pull-Ups at some point, that'd be wonderful.

Otherwise, she's very grown-up in almost every way. She used to have comfort items that she'd take everywhere, like Tinks and Blue or her dolls or "stuffies" -- and that's now a thing of the past. She used to have a sippie cup by her side always. No more. She's so social and talkative. I love hearing her stories and all about her dreams. Right now, she loves: the idea of school (even if it's online, wah), playing with Robby (most of the time), dressing up, Disney princesses, popsicles, learning to write her letters, singing, dancing, joking with people, her babysitters, books, Ben and Holly's Little Kingdom, operating the TV remote all by herself (she ordered something on Prime yesterday, lol), and sleeping in our bed (I move her when I come up at 11ish). She doesn't love: getting her hair brushed, when Robby's a dick for no reason (so, usually), coronaVYRIS, her current lack of friends, living far from the grandparents and cousins, or eating a balanced diet. Bread and sugar ONLY, plz.

She really takes it all in -- "it" being, life. She's watching, she's noticing, and I love looking over at her and realizing that. She tells me almost every day, something like "Those flowers are beautiful, mommy!" or "What a sunshiny day!" or "Look at the clouds! They look like meatballs!" or (before we moved), "Grandbob is playing beautiful music in the basement!"

If you look nice, she'll tell you. If I put on a dress or lipstick, she'll ask me to spin for her. I love that baby girl (who is not so much of a baby these days), to pieces.

Robs on the other hand ... whew.

I always said the Terrible 2s weren't a thing with Ana. Because they weren't. She had some wild moments, and had the capacity to be irrational af at times, but I thought 2 was largely a damn delight.

Robs is ALSO a damn delight and my favorite small boy who ever walked (stomped) the earth, but yeah, he has his moments. Dude goes nuts at the tiniest little thing and there's no talking him out of it. I'm like, oh ... is this what people are talking about? I actually yelled to him in the hallway the other day during a rage tantrum, "Bro, come at me! I dare you!" And he charged my legs. lolol all he really did was cling on like a baby monkey, but I enjoyed that he obeyed my command. Sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry with him.

This morning, I filled up his milk cup when apparently he DIDN'T WANT to be topped off, so I was busy scheduling social media posts for seven websites and he was trickling milk all throughout the kitchen, dumping it out bit by bit to his desired "full" level. What a dick.

He's gone through so many funny little stages.

He used to start all his sentences "e-e-e-e-e" and we wondered if he'd have a stutter. (Might sound silly -- I don't know how these things evolve! Nothing but love on that front ... we would have worked on it with him!) But for awhile, everything was like, "e-e-e-e-e-more juice please?" Or "e-e-e-e-e-now I take a nap?" Then he'd ask of everyday items, "WAT DA HECK IS DAT?" and we'd die laughing. Both of those phases were short-lived.

Much like his sister, bro's language skills are on point. He's very much in that zone where he's still a baby, but he's also kind of NOT, like, he'll cry and I'll have to say, "use your words, Robby. Tell me with your words what I can help you with." And then he will. He's a v impressive talker.

I mentioned Ana had comfort items like a tiny blue blanket or a mini-Teletubbie. Robs hauls around the house with a fuckin crew: big fishy, big Sharkie and big puppy. (Not to be confused with doggy, lil doggy or baby puppy). These main guys are ginormous -- all bigger than he is. I'll have to find a pic with the three of them together. James HATES this. It's so hard, we have to negotiate, like, we don't go out often with the kids or as a fam because of corona, but when we do, it's like, "No Robs, we're just going to the pool. Sharkie cannot come." Robby loves Sharkie the most. It was this whole thing at IKEA one day back in February, in those two weeks right when we got here but before the world shut down. I gave him Sharkie to hold in the cart, then I tried to put him back at the end of the trip (on account of already owning 2 million stuffed animas), then two hours later I found myself driving back to IKEA and navigating those aisles with a toddler on my hip, caught in that terrible maze of awfulness just for a ginormous $25 stuffed shark. Look at this lower lip action. He was so pissed at me for the initial shark abandonment.

He's getting there when it comes to potty-training. He is v proud of himself, claps and says YAY YAY YAYYYY! (Did you see him at the Michigan State basketball game before we moved? It was just like that).

He is SO loving. If we're in the house together, you can probably find him in my lap.

He throws his arms around me 500 times a day and says, "I love you, mommy!" And I say it back and he'll reply, "And I love YOU, my wonderful child." (It's a line from a book). He loves books just as much as Ana, if not more. Some favs include Nugget and Fang, which is awful, Beachy and Me, which is the best, Pout-Pout, all the Sandra Boyntons and Mo Willems -- but he'll listen to any story. He'll watch anything Ana is watching, but if he's picking, it's Monsters Inc., Wreck-It Robs (I mean Ralph) or Gigantosaurus. He still wants to be held all day everyday, despite being very independent. Will eat most things. Horrible to sleep with, will pull hair or poke your eyeballs. Not a great FaceTimer. Wants to throw your phone on the kitchen floor. Not the best in the car. Inconsistent wakeup times.

I let his hair get ridiculously long from February to June. Handsomest boy in the land.

He's known to request Sicko Mode by Travis Scott: "Yike a yite, mama! Yike a yite." Great dancer, it's all in the knees. James is like, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" (re: Rob's love for rap music).

Robs *will* boop your nose. And say BOOOOP. Loves the construction going on in our neighborhood, along with airplanes, ambulances and firetrucks. "Dat's a digger, mama?" "Oh look! A hair-plane, a hair-plane!" We sometimes give him a European accent because he talks so funny. "Mah-turn-a! Mah-turn-a!" (My turn is almost Italian).

We do a song and dance together called "Rock a baby," which I just made up one day, and you've probably seen it if you follow my annoying-af Snapchat, but anyway, he'll lift his arms to me and say, "Up, up, mama! Rock yo baby, mama." Yes sir, I will.

There was this one stage where he'd say, "Mama, I saw a dinosaur!" And I'd answer, "Youuuuu saw a dinosaur? Tell me! Where? What was it doing?" And he'd say, "In the basement! In the basement! He was eating eggs." So random. You know I pour my big-mom energy into all that I do. That would make him laugh and laugh. I miss that actually, it's been a month or so. He has the best, most old-man, chortle laugh.

Before bed, he requests not one, not two, but "hundreds of kisses."

And when we're done, he'll say, "Mo hundreds of kisses?" (Mo = more).

And you gotta say, "MORE hundreds of kisses? OK Robs!" and you GET HIM.

I told this next story on FB, too.

About a month ago we were in the car, all four of us, and it was like, 

Robby: "Ana?"

Robby: "Ana?"

Robby: "Ana?"

Robby: "Ana?"

Robby: "Ana?"

Me: "Ana, will you address him, please?"

Ana: "Yes, Robby?"

Robs: "Ey, good job, Ana."

OMG James and I almost peed laughing.

Robs is very supportive of me. Every night before bed, the three of us sing "You Are My Sunshine," and sometimes, Robby will end with something like, "Mommy, DAT WAS PERFECT." He has the funniest little voice and personality.

One of my favorite things about him is that he wakes up and immediately gets into trouble. He'll take those stopper things off the walls (you know, so that the door doesn't slam into the wall). Someone once told me, "I think you need a tool to remove those," and I was just like, "shrug, Robby didn't." He woke me up by handing me a pile of three. "Here go, mommy." Like, I'm half-asleep, what am I supposed to do with these? Thanks though.

Another time, he drew all over himself with markers. His face, too. Like, OK, Post Malone. Relax.

Last week, it was an entire bottle of my nice face lotion all over Ana's carpet. You might wonder like, "Don't you guys baby-proof? How does he access this stuff?" Oh, when there's a will, there's a way. Bro gets step stools, scales counters, moves furniture, figures shit out.

I laugh, picturing like, what's it gonna be today? Do his eyes just pop open in the mornings and he's like, LETS CLIMB UP THE DINING ROOM CHAIRS AND HIT THE ADT EMERGENCY ALERT BUTTON? (Oh, that happened). The other day, he just brought me my contour palette and several makeup brushes. I was like, "K I don't need those right now, but thank you."

James will say, "Good energy, Robs."

He'll throw a fit about the wrong colored vitamin and James is just like, "I like that. Good energy."

He loves James maybe the most, and even a few weeks ago at the beach, Ana was like, "They are SO cute together." She's such a lil mama. She also asked at the end of that trip, "Can we go to a different sea next time?" Like, aw, it's oddly sweet that she thinks this garbagey little inland lake is "the sea." It's honestly hard to stay in a bad mood around this crew. There is just so much cuteness surrounding us.

I write this shit down in my iPhone too, in case you've ever wondered, lol.

(And I hope you read the firefighter story on FB. So cute! I love those Milwaukee firefighters, between the ADT screwup and the time they were in our neighborhood last week).

Anyway, to anyone questioning whether to have kids semi close in age, do it. They are such lil friends. Ana will "make breakfast," if we're asleep in the mornings: tortilla chips or Ritz crackers, usually, and they'll sneak into each other's beds at naptime, and play in the basement together *real hard* until someone pokes an eye or needs some rest time.

I've been really glad they've had each other as quarantine BFFs.

It's so cute to hear them sharing crayons in the backseat of the car or giggling together upstairs while James and I make dinner. They apologize to each other when they've been naughty and they hug tight before bed. Sometimes Ana and I giggle at Robs and it's our secret.

Except like, he did get mad and he started bear-crawling around his room in an act of defiance the other day, and I couldn't even hold a straight face. Ana and I just lost it, which was like, not appropriate and I try to NEVER laugh at my kids, but this was just too much. The rest of the day, when Robby was out of the room, we'd be like, "Hey who am I?!" And copy him.

I have the maturity level of a 4-year-old -- this confirms it.

Have you seen that meme circulating on FB that's essentially like, "Wanna know why you can't do anything creative rn? You're drained af." (Referring to the pandemic, of course). And for months, that was me. Well, who am I kidding? I'm still drained. But I did gather the energy to write all of this, and I'm happy to have this off my plate! I want to remember these moments. I'm like, exhausted but loving it.

But yeah, some weeks, it's hard enough just to get my full-time work hours in, manage my lil team and keep my kids alive. (Am I supposed to exercise and eat right too? Fuck). But here we are. We made it! I didn't want to just like, NOT document these memories. <--- this sentence, woof.

So like, how am I momming through a pandemic? I don't even know. I'll tell my grandkids I just winged it. That's everyone, right?

We go on walks, somedays, draw, somedays, read as much as we can, and talk. Other days, we do crutch on the TV probably a bit too much and we definitely pay a babysitter -- and some days it's all totally manageable, other days its not.

Robby walked out behind me in a Zoom call one day in his underwear, holding a plunger. Another day, someone was like, "Michelle, is your son behind you ... on the kitchen counter?" And I had to rescue a scaling-the-cabinets Spiderman in front of my company's VP of news.

Hopefully we'll look back one day and this will all just be a distant memory.

Disney World was supposed to be a thing this fall, that's out. We did do Royal Oak for the Fourth and then almost a week in upstate NY. We have another week in Michigan coming up soon -- we're even going to take that ferry from Milwaukee to Muskegon.

Anyway, this is the longest blog I've ever written, probably by a damn landslide.

And yeah -- 4,000+ words later ... I'm outta here! (I think I said this when I typed out Robby's birth story, too, but like, if you read this, you deserve a medal!)

And hey, if you're near your family and friends, squeeze them tight. I miss mine!

I'll leave you with a few final pics I forgot to squeeze in. xoxo