Frid-HEYYY

It's Friday, y'all!

Eeeeek!

I skipped out on a post last week because I was off work. If I'm not werkin, I'm NOT sitting down at my laptop. Anyway, we went to my cousin Sarah's high school graduation party and then visited with Amanda and (baby) Sarah before coming back home (WAY too late) and then packing for up north.

First thing Saturday morning, we headed up to my parents' boat in Cheboygan -- can you believe it was Ana's first time? Right when we moved back to Michigan, it was winter. And then she was tiny that first summer, and I was all, "but where would we set up the Pack n Play?" (The boat is narrow). Last summer was just ... busy, and surprisingly not hot. I think we meant to come up north, but then like, the next thing I knew, it was mid-September and the season had passed. Whoops.

But now, I just feel like, it was time. We're in a *little* bit of a routine with Robs, he's a pretty reliable sleeper, we have the Dock-a-Tot so he can nap anywhere (no P&P setup needed), Analisa is super fun ... so in the words of Ana, I was all, "let's do it!"

So yeah! We arrived at the boat club and jumped in the pool. It was so hot, even up north, which is pretty rare. We played in the pool area for ... an hour? Two hours? Probably two. I didn't really watch the clock. After that, we walked over to the boat and went on a quick sail. Ana was definitely guarded. I think it was really overwhelming for her. She hung out down below in the cabin, and refused to even sit up top. Oh, and then she fell asleep for awhile.

My forever baby.

Robby was a different story. He napped -- just a quick one -- and then I took him to sit with me as my dad sailed. He seemed to like the breeze! It felt really good out on the water. It was a lot cooler than just sitting on the pool deck.

James napped too for a bit (I swear, it's a thing. The boat is relaxing when you're down below!) but he also hung out. We came back to land soon enough, docked the boat and (my brother) Robby picked up pizza from a really delicious restaurant in town. Robby was coming in from Petoskey, where he lives, so the timing worked out for him to snag the food.

Ana was all, "Uncle Robby, Baby Robby! Uncle Robby, Baby Robby!"

After dinner, the four of us (Ganleys) headed over to Boyne Highlands, where Robby works/and had gotten us a room. I briefly entertained the idea of all of us sleeping on the boat, but like, with my parents and Winnie and two babies and me and James ... it would have been a tight squeeze, and just like, stressful if a babe were struggling to get to sleep. We figured it would be easier to stay at Boyne, despite it being like, 45 minutes away.

We set up (baby) Robby's P&P in the far corner of our room (which was ginorm), and then shared our bed with Ana. She was so excited about sleeping with us; it was really cute actually! I was getting in a pump before bed, and she kept leaning over and whispering, "I yuv you, mama!" ... "Ey, mama! I see you!"

Like, yep. I see you too!

We stayed at the Highlands for a good majority of the day Sunday. I'd never really been there in the summer, despite Robby working at BH year-round and the countless number of times we visited, growing up. But it was a great place to sleep and hang, considering our two littles. We did brunch, the pool, and we played outside (they have this huge yard right in front of the hills, with like, mini-golf and games and tennis courts and a big open space to run around). At some point, we got Anz a grilled cheese, sat outside, etc.  Robs went down for a nap, which held the room hostage for a bit, but we had plenty of options to kill time.

It was over to Petoskey for dinner (and way too much money dropped at American Spoon), although we also stopped in real quick at (brother) Robby's house.

We grabbed a drink with Rob and Emily about an hour later, and then (kind of impulsively) decided to pack up and head back.

(Is my timeline all over the place? Prly).

Anyway, we paid for our hotel through Sunday night, and the original plan *was* to come back home Monday morning, seeing as neither of us works until 3 or 3:30. Butttttt the room was super cheap and we were just like, "why prolong the inevitable?" So we packed up as fast as we could and hit the road by 9p-ish. The kids were chill. We just kinda went for it.

Then we were home by midnight! Living an hour closer to all our fav up north destinations is seriously the best.

It was pretty nice to PTFO in our own bed. Even though we were only away for one night! Robby just wasn't sleeping that well in the P&P, and bed-sharing with Ana was kind of exhausting, and at one point Saturday night, all four of us were sharing the bed, and Anz kicked Robby awake, and just like, ... K.

Up north was a lot of things. And it was really fun, don't get me wrong! But RELAXING wasn't one of those things. I think we forget, sometimes, that traveling/existing with two kids under the age of 3 can be a serious haul.

Still, I don't wanna be the people who hole up at home all year just because we have tiny dictators running our lives. It's just a balancing act.

Anyway, we have another trip coming up next! We're heading back up north with my extended family pretty soon here, so I'll just have to figure out how to make the P&P less ... slippery, if that's the right word. I think Robby's still a little young for the P&P mattress, so I'll have to concoct some plan or mattress pad or another cozy option. The Dock-a-Tot is great, just like, not for overnight.

Speaking of Robs!

(Is it confusing yet, with the baby Robby/Uncle Robby situation?)

My guy!

Baby Robs had his 6-month checkup yesterday. He was such an angel baby. Here was the sitch: He had justttt fallen asleep in the car, and then I dragged him into his appointment -- but did he wake up crabby? Nah, not this guy. He was so smiley and happy to see all the nurses and the doctor, and even the girl at the front desk. He is SUCH a joy, seriously. The one nurse felt super guilty giving him his vaccines; she didn't want to be the one to bring down his chipper mood, lulz.

He's growing so well, and the doctor always comments on how strong he seems. She predicted he could be a 9-month walker, but like, how do you even predict these things? Dr. T was kinda full of shit (my ob-gyn), so like, I always kinda take this stuff with a grain of salt.

Regardless, Robby is definitely up in the crawl position, on hands and knees, and he looks like he's ready to take off -- even if all he's REALLY doing is rocking back and forth. He is very busy, working on his crawl game.

If Ana is any indication, I feel like this next part is about to go SO FAST. Ana went from rocking in the crawl position, to crawling, to crawling FAST, to pulling up, to cruising along the furniture, to walking. I swear that was just a few months ago, right?

Stay little, Mr. Robs!

For reference, Ana walked at a pretty standard age: about 2-3 weeks after her first birthday.

What else ... Robby is eating solids! We were planning on doing baby-led weaning, just like with Ana, but I have a feeling we'll do a modified version (well, which is also just like what we did with Ana). I jumped straight to avocado, green beans and blueberries with Robs ... and he spit them up, like a LOT. Yet he did pretty well with Cheerios. Because he's a reflux-y guy in general, Dr. C advised sticking with the dry stuff -- like the Cheerios. She said maybe give him some baby oatmeal on a spoon, and maybe even mash up some fruit and veg in there, if he'll let us. The weight of it might help with his tummy probs, is the thought here.

But yeah, other than some barfy talk (per usual), our appointment was pretty uneventful. He's obviously keeping something down, because baby boy is still in the 50th percentile for weight (and nearly the 90th for height. You tall, old fella, you).

And I'm not gonna lie: I kinda love shots day. It hurts my heart *so bad* in the heat of the moment, but then he's forgotten about those vaccines a minute later and he proceeds to nap all day. That part's kinda nice.

As for my darling Anza-bear, she is just ... OMG insane. In the best way ever. The sweetest girl I've ever known. Back to her cuddly ways (!!!) which makes my heart melt and ooze. And she's so funny! Did I talk last time, about how she has the best sense of humor? K, I'm sure you're like, "Right Michelle, you're officially that mom, I'm suuuure your 2-year-old is *super funny*." But she just IS and there's no denying it.

She also appreciates humor. If she knows she's doing something that's making us laugh, she'll do it like, again and again and again. She nails her timing. We'll laugh together about the silliest stuff.

That girl loves life.

I walked in her room this morning to grab her and bring her downstairs, and she like, told me a seven-part story. She was like, "I bump my elbow! And it really hurt! And I almost cry! But no cry. I read Blue One Truck! I see toad's booty. Where Dada? Kiss my elbow now, Mama? See baby Robert now, Mama? Feed Baby Robert?"

I hope I never forget when we taught her how to say, "Bonjour!" and she was yelling it to passers-by at Boyne Highlands. People knew what she was saying, too, because they were calling back, "Oh, Bonjour!"

Oh and then yesterday, James was like, "if we could just freeze her like this, for the rest of our lives, I would be happy with that." <-- And I'm not even kidding, because I thought it was precious and typed the quote into the Notes part of my phone. I swear, we lovvvvve having a 2-year-old and talk about it all the time!

Does this not melt your damn HEART?

My final Anz story will involve our babysitter Olivia, and how earlier this week, she was just jumping into a reading of The Pout-Pout Fish, without giving the cover the proper love that it deserves. (I always make a big show of presenting the title, author's name, and sometimes even the illustrator).

No shade though -- like, I'm not sure that's standard, to present the cover, and we lovvvve Olivia.

Anyway, I heard Ana yelling something from the other room where they were reading (I was working at the time). It was muffled, so I peeked in to investigate. Finally, I understood. Ana was insisting that Olivia say the title of the book, followed by the words, "BY DEBORAH DIESEN." Olivia was all, "I'm not sure I understand." And I came in and explained with a laugh. We were rolling. Olivia was like, "She know the author's name?" all incredulously. I was like, apparently so! Then she asked Ana, "Who wrote Little Blue Truck?" And I wasn't even sure Ana would know, offhand. So I re-phrased, since Ana didn't seem to get the question. I was like, "Ana, who is Little Blue Truck by? Alice ...?" And she yelled, "ALICE SCHERTLE," no joke. We were dying.

Potty-training is still happening! Anz definitely doesn't pee in the potty every time, but it's probably getting a little better every day. Also, she's pretty opposed to wearing underwear, so we're still hanging in the diaper, but I think I'll get that one book everyone recommended on my FB two-ish weeks ago. No rush, really! I still think she's right on time. Our new fav thing is when Ana needs a second alone to pee, and she'll be all, "Have a yittah privacy?" She asked my mom that on Tuesday, and Meese was all, "Did Ana just say 'privacy'?"

Oh and Tinky-Winky (who you're familiar with if you follow us at all online) is officially her baby. Today she had him doing tummy-time, down for a nap, in several diapers, etc.  But when she tried to feed him a bagel (which, she tries to feed Robby food ALL THE TIME -- like, things he shouldn't be eating, such as pennies), Anz was suddenly a bit of a know-it-all. She's so cute when she narrates her playtime (which is constant). I heard her saying, "Nooooo, Tinks can't have a bagel. Tinks a baby. DAT WOULD BE SILLAYYYYY."

OMG that girl.

K I said "one more Ana thing" and now I've given you five. It's clear that I'm not that into my kids.

I'm outta here! xoxo

Checking in on a Friday!

Friday check-ins, you guys. I think this could be a THING.

Not every Friday, but let's try for every other? K, it's a date.

Ana, 2 1/2 -- and Robs, nearly 6 months

Ah, I was dyinggg earlier over the cuteness of Analisa's little voice. She doesn't just talk in sentences these days -- they're paragraphs at this point. She was all, "Let's find Tinky-Winky. He in the garage! I left him in my pink car car. C'mon, Mama! Let's do it! Get yo shoes!"

And then at the table on our back deck this morning, she was all, "I am sitting with Mama and Dada! We are all sitting together! Mama sit, Dada sit, Ana sit, Baby Wa-boot sit!"

I could not be more proud of that big, loving, SWEET sister.

Other lol-worthy sentences she's said:

"It's simply impossible!" <--- OK, Peppa Pig. LMK.
"I remember going to Meese and Bob's yesterday!" <--- Which, debatable. She knows "yesterday" refers to "in the recent past," but sometimes she's a bit off. She'll be like, "Dada, we went to farmers market yesterday!" And I'm like, "errrrr, nah we didn't."

But she gets the idea!

She's known her ABCs and how to count to 20 for the past year now (no exaggeration -- I was watching vacation videos from last June, and I have her on tape, doing all of the above), so anyway, I'm trying to teach her how to count past 20. Oh, and she's been realllllllly into her books lately, especially Little Blue Truck (called "Blue One Truck!") and Pout-Pout. Lately, she likes reciting all the words along with me, and it's just so surreal. I swear, I was reading those books to a tiny Anz just the other day. Now she's all, "Hey Mr. Fish, you kaleidoscope of mope! How 'bout a smile? A little joy? A little hope?" I mean, she doesn't really pronounce all those words THAT well, but you feel me.

It's really hard to believe we'll be picking out a pre-school in another year or so!

OH AND YOU GUYS.

She's been using the potty. Definitely not every time, and she's still wearing a diaper for the most part. (We tried underwear for about an hour on Wednesday, but she flipped out a bit).

But it kind of started on Tuesday. She told us she needed to pee, and she peed! And then she's done it again about every day since. Just once or twice a day, but it's definitely a start! We were kind of at a stalemate there for a bit. It was like, she was into the concept of the potty. She loved reading Princess of the Potty. She loved sitting on the potty, fully clothed, and pretending. But whenever I tried to take her diaper off, she got all, "nopety nopety nopety NAH." And I wasn't trying to force the issue, because I heard it can become an ever bigger issue if you push it before they're truly ready.

An aside: I hate when people get all, "Well, she won't be using a diaper when she's in college!"

Like, thanks a lot, SHARON, but there's still some middle ground between 2 and COLLEGE, so I'd like her to get there eventually.

It doesn't mean you shouldn't try, just because like, COLLEGE.

Plus, it'll be super nice when we only have to buy diapers for one of our babes.

OMG, she asked us for some privacy today in the bathroom, and I just listened to her from the other side of the door. She was honestly talking to her stuffed friends, like, "I'm a big girl now!" <--- A line from her potty book.  She is so funny when she plays. She just babbles, and it's totally stuff that we tell her. "No, Blue. You're making a mess. We don't like messes! ... Careful with the baby! ... Shhh, it's OK, baby. Baby is SEEPING!"

She is such a mama to Robs. I announced to the living room the other day, "I'm going to put Robs down for a nap!" And Ana was ALL like, "No, he need a bottle first!"

Like, OK. Tell me, girl!

Ugh I could just eat her up.

Speaking of Mr. Robby James!

He is just the most precious guy ever. He is so sweet and so happy, like, he just wants to snuggle and be held, and walk around and coo at things. He does a lot of "talking" for his age, I think. Lately he's big on da-da-da-da (because of course). Oh, and he has the same crinkly smile that Ana rocked at that age. Still so many similarities between them.

He's learning the world through his mouth these days -- seriously, pulling EVERYTHING up to chew on. Poor guy is a teething monster. I've been giving him ibuprofen for some relief. Hope it's helping!

He also likes to climb whoever's holding him, kind of like a tree. It's so funny. He's just an excited guy! He wants to wiggle and see the world.

Andddd I think it'll be time to eat soon! As in, real food. Gotta figure out if we're gonna try to borrow the high chair from my parents', or if we should just buy a second one for our house. Glad it's garage sale season!

I'm excited to give Robs some snacks. Gonna do BLW again because it's just so much easier than baby food or purees or any of that bullshit.

Robs is on the brink of sitting up, unassisted. And man, for someone who can't quite crawl yet, bruh definitely gets around. I'll drop him on his tummy while I grab something from the kitchen, come back, and he's across the room. He just kinda worms his way all over the place. He's so big and strong!

And Robby loves Ana back. You can tell already! He just follows her around the room with his eyes. Tell me you saw the Snap or Instastory from yesterday where Ana was pushing him in his door-jumper. OMG, he was half-terrified, half loving it.

We're gonna go sailing soon! I won't tell you when, because that's when people break into your house, but can you believe Ana's never even been on my parents' boat? That first summer we were back in Michigan, I just feel like she was too small, or maybe I was overwhelmed, or nervous about her Pack n Play having nowhere to go. (Boat's a little narrow for it). And then last summer we were just busy. But I finally feel like we're in a spot where we can enjoy! Plus, the Dock-a-Tot will be clutch if we wanna put Robs down below for a nap. No need to set up the P&P! I think I just need a life-jacket for the little guy and we'll be all set.

On the US front, I'm finally starting to wean, which is nice, lifestyle-wise. I said my goal was 6 months, and it's hard to believe, but we'll be there next week. I've also gotten out running a bunch more lately, mostly because Can, Nats and I committed to a race later this summer, and I was scared I'd be unprepared. I did just under 5 miles yesterday, which is the longest I've completed in ... years? It was tough, but do-able! Kinda took a week or 2 off for a work trip to Orlando.

So yeah. All is good over here! I just made a list of things to accomplish around the house this summer. And it finally FEELS like summer, which is nice (well, when I'm not running). Can you believe I still haven't really set up Robby's room? I see these moms on FB who are like, "slacker status! The baby will be here in a few weeks and we're JUST finishing up his room!"

I'm like, you wanna see slacker status? My babe is 6 months and he's still sleeping in my home office.

K, I'm outta here!

Long time no see!

Hi friends! I'm just jumping on for a quick hello.

Memorial Day littles!

Here's the sitch: I have about 30 minutes to kill while I pump, I just finished work, and I realize it's been forEVER since I last blogged.

And I'm sorry! Not sorry as in, "I've let down all my followers! They've been waiting with bated breath!"  No, I realize I have like, five of you who read this thing. But either way, maybe it's that I've let myself down? Who knows. I do feel a sense of weird sadness that I haven't been writing or posting updates.

I'll think to write a quick entry sometimes! I have like, 12 half-written posts and some notes in my iPhone on all the latest phrases Ana's saying. I would kill for an empty afternoon to just catch tf up. But honestly, if I had an empty afternoon right about now, I'd probably take a nap. Or go get a pedicure and read Us Weekly with a really fatty Starbucks drink. I don't know. I'm so unmotivated to sit at a computer when I have free time -- I know I've talked about that struggle before.

Also like, I'm kind of a perfectionist about this type of thing. I don't want to share half-done, or half-assed blogs (even though this is probably gonna be one of those). Still, it's not a comfortable space for me. Does that sound snobby?

Like, even though my platform is ugly and I *still* haven't redesigned, or fixed my URL, I still have to share quality posts with nicely edited photos and entries that reflect who I am as a writer. It's hard being Type A in situations like these, it really is.

BLAH BLAH BLAH, I should probably give you an update if I'm here to give you an update, right?

I'm like, the best I've ever been, and the messiest! I cannot keep up with laundry. I have a pile of clothes in our room the size of a small mountain. My brain is scattered in 50 different places. We lost our two regular sitters within the past month or so, so that's been a transition, to say the least. I'm being pulled in a lottttt of different directions, just with like, a 2 1/2-year-old, and Robs, who is still very much a tiny babes, and my job, and trying to swing occasional daytime shifts, and MAN, sometimes I just wanna hang out with James and unwind and not take care of anyone for an hour. Is that horrible?

And then there's always this feeling of like, "What can I be doing around the house? Should I log an hour of work in case I get sidetracked during my shift later? Should I be blogging? [No.] Editing the 9,000 pics I just snapped on my phone? Reading about the latest Teen Mom 2 drama just to get 3 seconds to myself? Preparing dinner for later?"

At the end of some days, James and I will be like, "WHAT did we get ourselves into?"

Life is just busy. It's a busy season. But all bitching aside, like I said, things could NOT be better. I've never been happier with the state of my life. I cannot even begin to describe the love in my heart for our two littles, and my sweet husband. I wouldn't trade one second of this for the world (OK, well, maybe a fewwww seconds, but you get my point).

Analisa just like, loves Robby. It's truly the best thing I've ever witnessed. She is the sweetest girl. I mean, she defffffinitely has her difficult toddler moments, but I feel like people warned me that (age) 2 would be the all-time worst.

Is the worst still around the corner?

I mean, maybe. I just think to myself -- probably once a week -- this isn't so bad! The good SO outweighs the bad. She is so full of life, and talkative and loving, and it's like, she's beyond just words and sentences at this point. She tells stories. She has a clear concept of time. "No, I saw Meese YESTERDAY." She tells us that she loves us. She is the most joyful little thing I've ever been around. We cannot get enough of her. I definitely speak for James when I say that too, no doubt!

Now, Ana ALSO peered into her pillowcase the other day and noticed that Mickey Mouse, while on the pillowcase, did *not* adorn the pillow itself. And there was truly no talking her off that ledge. She was pissed off, and we just kind of had to ride out the storm together. "Want Mickey ON THE PILLOW. WANT MICKEY ON THA PILLOWWWWW!"

It's hard not to laugh.

It's kind of like when she spotted the Caldicott seal on the back of one of her books, and she thought it was a sticker, and she kept yelling, "take sticker off!" and she would not ACCEPT that it wasn't a sticker, and finally, James just tore that corner of the book off, handed it to her, and she proceeded to get even more mad because the "sticker" wasn't sticky.

Toddlerhood, man.

But you really have to take her seriously in times like these. The author Harvey Karp is so, so good. I know I've recommended "Happiest Toddler on the Block" before. You can't just offer other suggestions or distract, at some point. You have to acknowledge their feelings and make them feel heard and understood -- even if it's crazy. I mean, these tantrums might seem silly to us, as parents, but to toddlers, their emotions are big, and sometimes confusing, and I'm sure it's gotta be overwhelming.

Imagine you brought up a problem you were having to a family member, or some friends, and they were just like, "no, try THIS. No, try THIS. Or how about THIS INSTEAD? You need a nap! lol. This stage in life is crazy!" ... Like, nah. You'd get mad, too.

Sometimes you just want someone to acknowledge your problem or dilemma, even if there's no perfect solution, and get on your side. Doesn't it feel good when someone just gets in your corner? "Oh my gosh, that must be so hard!" or "I hear you. How frustrating!"  That's the idea here.

You have to match their tone, their passion, and repeat back what they're saying, in moments of a toddler crisis.

Anyway, like I said, the tantrums are seriously pretty few and far between. And for that, we are grateful! I couldn't love that girl any more if I tried. I am obsessed with being her mom.

And Robs. My sunshine boy! There has never been a happier baby. He looks like a little old man (is it the mouth? The chin? TELL ME), but his smiles just light up a room. He's rolling in both directions, has been for quite some time now!, babbling nonstop, and he is SO comforted by a quick mama snuggle. I would just hold him all day if I could (oh, and I try). I've gotten pretty good at writing news stories with that little friend on my lap! Working from home is LIFE.

And well, no one ever told me how spit-uppy a baby could be, but oh, I've seen learned. Phewwww does that boy know how to vom up his dinner! He's actually gotten a touch better in recent weeks, so I'll cross my fingers that that trend continues. It was pretty disheartening there for awhile, to spend so much time pumping breastmilk for him, only to get SOAKED in my own milk, when it projectile vomits back at me 15 minutes later.  :(

He's always been a happy spitter, as our doctor calls it, meaning he puts on weight well and the reflux doesn't seem to bother him. So we don't really do much about the problem except keep a towel handy -- and that, we don't even do too well. Hence, why I can't seem to keep up with all the laundry.

Robby has taught me so much about being a mom. Do you guys remember that one blog post I wrote -- here, I'll link it -- where I was like, "babies sleep all the time"? And "why do people gift you bibs? Do they really spit up all that much?"

OMG OMG lol.

Pretty sure God read that blog (did I write it while I was pregnant? I think so), and was like, Hold. My. Beer.

I kinda got schooled, to say the least. Don't write cute blog posts when you only have one kid (a trick baby at that), mmmkay?

Robby's 4-month sleep regression turned me into a crazy person. I was like, bleary-eyed and bloodshot, extensively Googling sleep-training methods for about two or three weeks there. And whimpering to myself at 5 in the morning when I couldn't get him to go back down. And then Ana would get up for the day, I'd realize there was no chance I'd get a nap in, and oh yeah, I work till midnight M-F.

COOL, ROBS. I now understand why they use sleep deprivation as a torture tactic.

Um yeah. The bibs? Everywhere.

The spit-up? Everywhere.

I was pretty relaxed when it came to Ana just falling into a schedule on her own. And Robby did the same -- probably just over the past few weeks, actually. But like, when you're back to work, I can now understand why people wanna speed this process up. Not knowing what to expect when you're also working 10-hour days ... sucks, for lack of a better word.

I knew a lot of this would be hard, snarky blog posts aside, but I guess I didn't know in what ways specifically it'd be challenging. It's the sleep. The balancing act. The feeling of being needed, and like I have to be ON, 24/7.

But I also keep getting reminded just how fleeting the days are. Robs just turned 5 months, can you believe that? Ana will be 2 1/2, officially, in a week. This isn't forever. They will only be this little and needy once. I do love being there for them. I have the best setup, with WFH. I mean, it's exhausting, but I really feel like I get to hang with both of those little loves all day long. They are so, so precious and important.

I'm sure I'll continue to learn, and adjust, and there will be easier times and more hard ones ahead. It's sometimes hard to put your partner first when you have two crazy tiny dictators running the show. But James and I really make an effort. We think that is soooo important, to prioritize one another as well as the babes.

It's hard to put yourself first, or really, ANYWHERE in the mix. And you wanna love on the new baby and keep the toddler feeling like all eyes are on her, and like, just lately, I really do feel like we've really hit our stride. They evolve so much, so fast, but so do we.

I'd give us an A (or at least a B+; maybe we had a bit too much screentime going on for a bit), almost every step of the way. We get out. We try things. We're always like, "what's the worst thing that's gonna happen?" and I think that's vital. I took them both to the aquarium solo probably with my stitches still in tact. I was proud, not gonna lie! But I'm also the kind of person who likes to get out quickly postpartum; flu season be damned. That shit keeps me sane; I can't hole up in the house all day like some kind of barricaded gunman (lol; back in local news mode, as you can see).

I haven't struggled with postpartum depression, really with either baby, and for that I'm grateful. But the PP period can be hard on anyone -- I really believe that. I was reminded of a lot of the ways our brain can gloss over the hard parts, once you're like, out of the woods and a few months clear. Ana was such a dream baby, I thought we'd nail it! And I mean, like I said: I think we've done REALLY well. Still, there are some days where I've been like, "Ohhhhh yeah, I forgot about how obsessed I'll get over the baby not latching!"

There's that, too. Robs is 5 months and I'm still pumping. I mean, just three times a day, so it's feasible. But I'm also ready to stop pretty soon. Aiming for 6 months at the moment, so stay tuned!

K, my half-hour's up. Glad we did a little check-in! Maybe that should be a thing. Check-in Fridays, where I do a stream-of-consciousness ramble about R+A, and anything else that's on my mind? Perhaps.

12 weeks, gone in a second

With my maternity leave drawing to a close, I thought I'd make a list of all the things I never want to forget about the past 12 weeks.

Like this moment.

Without further ado ...

Seeing Ana's little face (which looked huge actually, compared to Robby's) for the first time, as my mom walked her into our hospital room, right after I had Robs. I wanted to cry; I was so overcome with emotion. For real, my eyes well up even now, just thinking about it.  I knew how much was about to change for her, and I had missed her overnight, and I wanted her to be OK with everything, and love the baby, and never be confused or feel left out ... and I spotted her and my heart exploded. I knew that I *couldn't* cry, because she was in a phase where if I cried, she'd cry (and I didn't want to startle her), but like, I remember that moment so vividly. She walked in, looking so sweet and a bit timid, holding hands with my mom. Her hands, by the way, looked so big next to Robby's. Her cheeks were so full, her lashes so long, and she just looked so developed. Despite still wearing diapers, and clutching her beloved blue blanket, she was suddenly my big girl. It started in that moment officially, but I knew it would last from here on out. In the matter of one night, everything had transitioned. I cuddled her so hard on the bed (well, as much as she'd let me), my body still shaking a bit from the trauma of L&D -- and I didn't even mind that she didn't have an over-the-top reaction to baby Robs, or even want to hold him. (I suspected she wouldn't). She mostly just wanted to chat with her Teletubbies in the corner and eventually steal my lunch. I was just so happy to see her, and so happy for the baby to have finally arrived, and I had this overwhelming, out-of-body love for my firstborn baby/big girl. I wanted to protect her and reassure her that everything would be fine. Having her on my lap, even for a minute, made me feel "all things!", as she would say.

Ana in the hospital lobby that day.

How much fun we had with James, as he had two weeks off work after Robby got here.  K, James has NEVER had that much time off! Well, except when he was between jobs, I guess.  Anyway, he was (is) the best husband of all time, truly stepping up to the plate -- making the best dinners (well, again, he always does); keeping Ana SO busy as Robby and I navigated the wonderful world of nursing; washing bottles once we eventually switched to exclusive pumping; making bedtime with Ana the most fun and special time; rubbing my shoulders; listening to me ramble about a million concerns and thoughts and considerations; keeping me laughing; always keeping my water glass full (like, figuratively and literally, now that I think about it); the list goes on and on and on. He is my best everything: friend, advocate, partner, spouse. I will cherish those weeks forever. What a gift.

SO many nights reading Tap the Magic Tree, Barnyard Dance, Princess of the Potty, etc.

The time I took both babies out in the snow (probably for like, half-hour TOPS; I'm no hero). And Ana belly-flopped in a puddle at the very end, which prompted me to get the house deep-cleaned the following week. Robs, despite being bundled up in the warmest snowsuit of all time anddddd being worn in a K'Tan, promptly PTFO'd the second we hit the porch. He was like, "I'mmmmm outta here." Also I hadn't blow-dried my hair that morning (well, or since 2011 if we're being honest), so the ends turned to icicles. The end.

That day!

The first time Ana said (completely unprompted), "I love you, Robby!"  (Which was Friday!)

Staying in our pajamas all day. Sometimes we'd change into new ones at like, 7:00 or so. 

BROOSH TEEF

Ana's pump dance (go follow me on Snapchat if you'd like to see; it happens about three times a week and it's the funniest).

Robby's arm slung around mine. He seriously does it every time I hold him, and it makes my heart the happiest. He is the No. 1 snuggler and I hope that never changes!

<3

Ana running around to "Let It Go," shaking out her hair like Elsa, yelling all the Frozen character's names, and then telling me what's happening: "Boat fall down!" or "All snow melted!" ... "Newwww outfit!"

The way Robby looks at Ana when she's running around or talking to him. He's very captivated, and I'm not just saying that!

Dance parties with Miss Anz. Her happy scream. The way we taught her to say, "Oh faSHO wit it." ... Sure, 2 can be a tricky age at times. But she is the MOST FUN bear ever, and we're loving about 97% of it!

What a little friend!

Probably half a dozen trips to the aquarium.  Last week, at the area where you can touch some of the sealife, the worker asked Ana if she wanted to touch a sea star (which is the new name for a starfish, apparently). Without hesitation, Anz reached her hand in the container and went, "BOOOOP!"  My daughter just boopsed a starfish, I thought. I just about died laughing, as did everyone else in our vicinity. Baller.

Annual membership  = so worth it!

Speaking of that, our first trip out, just the three of us: also to the aquarium, and it went so well! I felt brave even for attempting it.

Robby's little old man laugh, which sounds more like a courtesy laugh sometimes.

Cheeks!

The way Ana refers to him as Baby Robert. (Pronounced "Bay-bee Wah-boot!")

The first time Ana gave Robs a bottle all on her own. "Want it?" she asked.  I was upstairs and came upon that sweet scene. She had fished his bottle out from the diaper bag, I believe. I was so touched that she took it upon herself to offer! "Here go!" she said. "Want mo? Let's do it!" What a little mommy she is.

My uniform: Lou and Grey pants from Loft, a cozy T and one of my robes. Glasses on, ponytail in place, makeup once a week MAX. Ultimate coziness.

Shameless on Netflix. Killer show; def in my top 3 of all time (others would include Six Feet Under and Mad Men, for the record).

Sneaking upstairs to see what James and Robby are up to, only to find Robs curled up on his papa's chest, napping.

Not napping here, obvs, but you get the gist.

Bath time with Robs. He lovvvvves it! He gets so relaxed and almost seems to melt into the water.

The way Ana talks to her brother, always asking him questions, ("What's wrong, guy?"), rubbing his back, bringing him Blue, "helping" with bath time, wanting to participate in tummy time, etc.  "Show Wobby?" she loves to ask. She really sees him as a person, and I think she always has. And by that I mean, more of a person than an infant. The first time that he was really crying and I didn't respond quickly enough, she got all, "Baby CRYING!" as if she felt for him, and was trying to come to his defense. She was frustrated that I hadn't fixed it yet and it was almost like she felt the injustice of the situation.

Sibling love!

All the Royal Oak Tuesdays and Wednesdays we had while James worked long hours. My parents are the best. There's nothing like going to your childhood home and having your mom and dad take care of you, especially when you're being called upon by a newborn and a toddler 24/7. Can't tell you how nice it was to know that once a week, someone else would handle dinner, make me tea, bring me water, help chase Ana, hold the baby, let me have a few minutes to myself to take a shower, or pee, or just like, breathe. Meese and Bob da real MVPs.

Meese and Robs

Laughing so hard I felt like I couldn't breathe, when Ana proudly announced, "Dada SEEPING" on not one but TWO mornings when he was supposed to be on Anz duty! "Oh, so now youz a snitch, bear?" he asked the first time, from the couch. "Stopppp snitchin!"  To which she responded, "Snidge! SNIDGE!"  Verdict's still out on whether or not he was dozing.  ;)

Tummy time!

All the quality time with James.  We've actually had a TON of just-us time, which is surprising, considering we have two tiny bears now. But we've been able to enjoy a few brunches, a day date to Michigan State-Syracuse at LCA (sniffle), a coworker's going away party at a local bar, etc.  Making time for each other (and just each other) is so key, I swear.

Super depressing day, but at least we look good?

Saturdays at the farmers market. Which have become tradition at this point!

--

And here are a few things I *would* like to forget:

-- How many times we watched the Teletubbies DVD in that first week or so. (I wasn't trying to win any awards, you guys. It was like the NCAA tournament. Survive and advance!)
-- Boss Baby.
-- How many times I caved and gave Ana fruit snacks, or McDonald's for dinner. #badmama
-- Every moment in which both babies were crying at the same time.
-- The spit-up/all the laundry/the time I didn't realize that curdled chunks were in my hair and I went to Kroger like it was NBD and only noticed once I caught a glimpse of myself in the dairy aisle.
-- The night Robs woke up like, six times, and I felt like I had been stepped on by a horse the next morning.
-- All my attempts at getting a cute pic of the two of them together. See below for evidence.

Truly horrifying.

Spaghetti sauce on her face and Robby's all over the place.

Getting ... a little closer? Gotta focus, Robs!

-- The day the Netflix gods unexpectedly removed Zootopia. CAN I CALL SOMEONE TO BRING IT BACK? JESUS.
-- The day Ana's fav juice cup was in the dishwasher and she *needed* it. (In hindsight, why didn't I just take it out and wash by hand?) lolol.

Also, thank god for Shipt. I will happily pay a little extra for grocery delivery, rather than attempting to hit the store with these two crazies!

In conclusion ...

Life with two is crazy, but oh-so worth it. Some days I feel like we're killing it, others I want to curl up and forget everything and sleep for two weeks straight. I'm trying to be careful not to wish too many of the days away, though. They're so fleeting. I know I'll want to rewind time and remember every moment.

K and I have about a million half-written blogs that I should finish up and post soon. Now that I'll be back at work, hopefully I'll be more in the swing of things soon! xoxo

Robby James: A birth story

Hi friends! I've been dragging my feet on this blog post. I guess that's just life now with two kids! But do you wanna hear how our little snuggler was born? Good, because I typed it all out for Analisa, so I'm gonna follow suit and do the same for little Robert James! (<--- Who is most often known as Robby or Robs. Never RJ. Sometimes Bobby Jims, if you're James or me).

Grab a drink and settle in, because I truly spared no detail.  :)

And then there were four!

This story starts just after midnight on Jan. 1.

My body was sore and we had finished up a long day. I pulled back the covers of our bed and said to James with a solid level of confidence, "Well, it looks like we won't have the first baby of 2018. I think that would have been kind of fun."

If memory serves me correctly, James responded that it would have been way too much attention, and he never wanted to have the first baby of the year. Go figure, right?

Anyway, the two of us had just wrapped up a pretty uneventful New Year's Eve. Earlier in the evening, we had gone to Target with Analisa (it was pretty empty in there), James had made us dinner (really delicious chili and chocolate cakes), we watched the Dave Chappelle special on Netflix and then switched over to network TV just in time to catch the NYE ball drop, grab a quick smooch and turn in for the night. We toasted with just the tiniest bit of wine (well, if you're me), and retired upstairs. I was feeling very large and uncomfortable. Did I blog previously about how the baby's head was so low, that he was kind of ON my hip flexors? I was dealing with quite a bit of nerve pain. (I already forget if I'm explaining that correctly). Anyhow, in my final few weeks of the pregz, the doctor told me that the sensation likely wouldn't go away -- and it was really hurting me. For almost a whole week, I really couldn't even make my legs walk like usual, and one day, I was actually dragging my left leg around my parents' house, in pure agony. And that's not an exaggeration.

So, needless to say, we weren't exactly feeling social on New Year's Eve. The baby was due Jan. 4, and there was never a doubt: We were staying in.

I dropped off to sleep rather quickly after hitting the sheets, only to be awoken by the feeling of my water breaking. YASSSS, was my first thought. James and I had been talking like, "How do people know when to go to the hospital? Are we supposed to time the contractions?"  I had never liked that idea, but still, I was fearful that we'd wait too long and become those people who have a baby in the car, en route to the hospital. That actually didn't sound so bad, if my alternative was waiting around for 24 hours, like last time.

Anyway, I had said to James previously, "I hope my water just breaks again. That made it super easy to determine."

Dr. T told me that if that happened, just to come in sooner rather than later. Game on.

So, it was 1:55 a.m. on New Year's Day, I had just thoroughly soaked our sheets and my Snoogle (pregnancy pillow), and I decided to call my mom, who was going to come over and watch Ana while James and I headed to the hospital, per our plan.

Funny side story: She had been up north with my dad, as it was NYE weekend. I had Aunt Laurie, Candace and our usual Ana sitters on standby, in the case that something like this were to happen and my mom wasn't available when we needed her ... but yeah, I was really hoping to use my mom. And that's no offense at all to all the generous people who offered to help us out! In a bind, I would have taken any or all of their assistance. I was just more comfortable with my own mom in this specific childcare sitch.

I knew I wouldn't feel guilty about calling her overnight, where as I might have felt bad calling say, Candace, who actually had New Year's plans. It's kind of a big ask: "Hey, will you jump in the car and head an hour north? And then stay the night at our place so that Ana has someone to wake up with? And we'll let you know at some point what the plan might be? Oh and did I mention we have no timeline?"

Trust me, I know Candace or the sitters would have been FINE with it! But again ... I just felt better asking Meese.

Ana loves Meese and Bob's.

So, weird coincidence: My mom had called me earlier in the night, as in, on New Year's Eve, to tell me that she and my dad were coming home early. I was all, "No, don't do that! Relax. There are no indications the baby is coming!" But she insisted. I swear, we have this weird intuition thing going on sometimes. Like, in college when I'd pick up the phone to call her, and she'd already be on the line, trying to call me. Stuff like that still happens -- I'll open my phone to text her an Ana pic, and receive a message at that very moment, like, "Any Ana pics today?"

Anyway, she had texted me earlier in the night when they were passing through our area, like, "Hey, you in labor yet? It'd be a perfect time to stop by!" ... but we were probably at Target or making dinner or something. I was just like, "No labor yet, will let you know!"

And there I was, hours later, asking her to hop back on the road, come an hour north, and watch Ana! Thank goodness she and my dad got the hunch to drive back.

She had arrived at our place by 3a or so, and kind of laughed at how relaxed we were. There was no mad dash by me or James through the house, throwing things into bags or freaking out. I had finally packed (days earlier) -- for myself, and a bag for Ana, in case my mom wanted to take her back to RO. The vibe was just like, maybe some quiet nerves from me, James was kind of half-asleep, and my mom was EXCITED. I really debated going into Anz's room for one final kiss or snuggle, but she's such a light sleeper sometimes. I didn't go; I was too nervous about waking her, and leaving my mom with the task of putting her back down.

I believe it was 3:15 or so by the time we arrived at the hospital. Funny story, we had never been there. We drove by after swim lessons once (they were on the same campus), but that was about the extent of it. And then we intended to go on a hospital tour -- or at least look up where I should check in once I was in labor, but it never happened. Still, I knew we were looking for the Women's and Children's Center. And the place was pretty dead, probably considering the holiday, so we found it quickly.

James was like, "I'll drop you off at the door and then go park!" ... And then I basically watched as he parked, front row, and joined me inside 30 seconds later. We were lol'ing as we tracked down the check-in area. "OMG that saved us so much time -- THANK YOU."

So, we found this intercom that had a sign next to it, and it said something like, "If you think you're in labor, ring the bell."

I was just kind of like, "Hi! My name's Michelle. My water broke!"

(About to meet this guy!)

The nurses buzzed us in right away and the whole process was very relaxed. We gave a ton of info to a woman or receptionist at the check-in area, then got assigned to a room quickly, so they could assess whether to admit us.

I changed into hospital clothes (ugliest gown ever, no exagg), met the on-call doctor right away*, and got checked**. I was dialated to a 3, and during that check, another huge wave of water-breakage came rolling in. The doctor was like, "WOW YEAH, YOU WEREN'T KIDDING. Get this girl to her delivery room!"

*Oh yeah, should mention: My doctor wasn't available. I forget if that was due to the holiday, or if it was just his scheduled day off. He's a busy guy and I knew the whole pregnancy that this was a real possibility. I didn't care. It wasn't like on TV, where the pregnant woman is all, "But I need MYYYY doctor!" I was just like, "Wait, you guys have someone around here who can deliver a baby, right? Cool. That should be fine." I had never met backup guy. I also didn't even bother writing a birth plan this time, so ... that made it easy to be flexible.

**Checks are the worst, am I right?

Anyway, the speed and ease of check-in was kind of nice! Remember last pregnancy? There wasn't a midwife available at the time, so I had these random doctors in and out of my room for what felt like forever, as they all debated whether or not my water had broken. (It had been hours and I had showered, and nothing was showing up on the microscope or whatever, when they swabbed me).

This certainly wasn't that! I was like, "My water broke!" And the doctor was like, "Indeed it did! See you soon!"

James and I were taken to the L&D room within a few minutes. My only complaint was, the nurse setting up my IV really struggled to find a good spot for it, in my arm. She kept being like, "Why isn't this WORKING?" And I was all, "Yeah, good question," under my breath, as I grimaced (while she poked around my forearm). Eeek. I wasn't a bitch about it; she was just trying to do her job. But man, that really hurt.  :/

Seriously, that's a weird spot to put an IV anyway, right? And then it got like, snagged, or it was in too deep, and I kept complaining about it to James. I was all, "Is it a problem that I'm about to birth a human out my V and I'm bitching already ... about the IV? I'm setting myself up for failure." But he agreed: Getting an IV sucks, and the experience is 10 times worse when they're poking around and taking forever.

Next came the waiting.

With Ana, like I mentioned, my water broke, and then once the doctors finally decided to admit me, they threatened me with Pitocin if contractions didn't progress fairly quickly. But they progressed. I needed no such Pitocin, thank god. I had heard SO many horror stories about Pitocin -- I was relieved to avoid it.

This time around, it was the same deal. The doctor told me, "If you don't start contracting here soon, we're going to have to give you some Pitocin." I was like, "Eeeeek, really? I was REALLY hoping to avoid it -- that makes me nervous." And he told me we could wait it out for a bit.

So we held off. And we held off some more.

Nurses were coming in like, "Can you rate your pain?" And I didn't want to lie. I was like, "Um, zero?"

I wasn't trying to be a hero. My pain was honestly at a zero.

Ugh. After a round or two of waiting it out (in hindsight, I have no idea how long we actually waited), Dr. K came back and was like, "Sorry, we need to get this thing going. The Pitocin is going in."

At that point, I was just kind of like, can't win 'em all. Where's my shrug emoji?

I wasn't gonna fight the doctor on it. He's the professional, I'm not, etc.

Plus, I wasn't gonna lie ... I was getting anxious. I think, if I had to guess, it had been a few hours. I was hoping to be one of those people who was in and out of L&D in like, 4-6 hours TOPS, and this was already taking a long time. Dr. K was making some valid points too; he clearly knew I was uncomfortable with the Pitocin thing. "Hard labor is hard labor, no matter how you get there," he told me (which, to his credit, turned out to be pretty true). So ... the Pitocin happened.

For reference, James was largely asleep for all of this. Same as last time, I was just like, "I don't need you. You should rest up."

Anyway, my experience with Pitocin was a little bit like my experience with my first L&D. Everyone had warned me with all these over-the-top stories: "OMG IT'S THE WORST THING EVER/NOTHING WORSE COULD EVER HAPPEN TO YOUR BODY/THIS IS HELL ON EARTH/YOU WILL PROBABLY DIE," so when things remained even pretty tolerable, I was pleasantly surprised. It's all about expectation, I swear.

Like, how do I say this ... contractions were painful, but contractions are also painful in general, so I was like, meh.

And the Pitocin definitely helped move things along. Still not as quickly as I would have preferred, but we started making some real progress. Every time I got checked, we were a little closer to push time, and meanwhile, I just sat back and watched that Khloe Kardashian weight loss show. It was mindless, but that's what I needed. It definitely helped me zone out a bit. I tuned in for a few E-60s and the middle of Pulp Fiction, but really, watching those E! girls reach their goal weights was the way to go. The nurses kept lol'ing at my selection in TV shows, but it's not like there was much else on!

I was bummed that I couldn't eat or drink. If you read Ana's birth story, you might remember that I got away with a #2 sub from Jimmy John's, an oatmeal raisin cookie and ... I think all the bevs I wanted, at Kaiser. Here, I was stuck with ice chips. I believe I could have had a popsicle too, but it was cold already in my room. So F that. 

Although, I totally let the ice chips melt and then chugged when the nurse was out of the room. (My small form of rebellion that I'm sure EVERYone in my sitch partakes in? Ha).

The other memorable parts here were: Going through those hot and cold flashes again, some brief nausea, and peeing every 9 seconds, which is an exaggeration, but not by much. I think I was going probably two or three times an hour. Which is like, how? I wasn't drinking anything! (Well, outside of the melted ice chips).

Just sticking in random pics at this point, don't mind me.

And as for reasons why you SHOULD get the epidural, I kept telling my nurse, "that catheter sounds ideal right now! I'm so jealous of everyone who gets one."  I swear, every time I got up, I had to lug that thing attached to my IV, I got all tangled up in the cords and wires, um perhaps worst of all, it took so much energy -- when I was trying to rest up ... ugh. I don't remember having to pee so often when I was delivering Ana.

I was like, "Everyone gets caught up in these cords, right? How annoying!"

... Nope. Just me, apparently.

Also, Dr. K and his team kept offering up the epidural ... and it kind of made me nervous! Every time he was in, he'd say some version of, "OK, well if you're going to get it, you need to do it NOW." Or, "The anesthesiologist can get really backed up -- you might want to request it ASAP."  I can understand why he wanted me to order it: I had told him I was on the fence, and I wanted to see how things progressed.  And I felt like it was fair for him to keep the epidural reminders alive. Imagine that I DID want it, and it became too late, and for all he knows, I would have lost my mind. (I don't know, this is all hypothetical, but I have to imagine it's happened).

But yeah, I was just like, over in my corner, doing the deep breathing from last time (well, as much as I could with a raging cold -- my nose was super stuffed up), just like, "How bad is the pain gonna get? I thinkkkk I can weather the storm! No, I'm good! Surviving!"

And then he'd leave and I'd panic to James like, "I swear to GOD, I hope I don't regret this!"

It's hard to explain. Things were really intense when I was within a contraction. But when I was between them, I was like, cracking jokes with Dr. K and pretty fine, all things considered.

I did get a little medicine put into my IV at the very end -- just like last time -- to have something in my corner for when it came time to push.

Here's the thing though: I think I waited too long. I swear, it didn't do anything. Last time, I was like, "Thank goodness! At least a tiny bit of relief! I can rest!" This time, I was all, "Cool, contractions are still crazy. I can't relax," and then, "Oh, I can totally feel his shoulders twisting out of me." (K, spoiler alert!)

Anyway, the meds went into my IV, then probably 10-20 minutes later, I got up for the 167th time to pee. The nurse said to me some version of, "You're getting close. You might have the urge to push in there. Don't do it. We don't want to deliver the baby over the toilet, please."

I promised not to push.

And then I sat down and I needed to.

I thought about it.

I was like, "Maybe I really do just have to go to the bathroom. I'll give it a minute." So I sat. And I sat. And I waited.

The nurse, it seems, got suspicious, and knocked on the door. She was like, "All set? Wanna come sit back down on the bed?" And I cracked. I was like, "Mayyyybe I'll just go to the bathroom *real quick* and thennnnn come rejoin the group and we can have the baby. Sound like a plan? Cool!"

She was like, "Nopety nope nope NOPE!" <-- Haha I don't actually think she said "nopety," but she was quick to veto my plan entirely. She told me that if it feels like I have to go, then maybe I really do, but the baby is sitting like, RIGHT THERE as well, or maybe the baby just needs to come out ASAP. Either way, it was push time, and people were starting to flood the room. Lights were getting flicked on, and all of a sudden, the moment had arrived.

Ugh.

One final rewind: James and I had two major (but brief) discussions in our car ride to the hospital, both initiated by me.

1.) "I don't love the name Henry as much as I used to," I admitted.
"Yeah, I don't like Drew or Andrew very much either," he said.
So Robert was confirmed as our boy name. (And if it were a girl, it was going to be Bridget -- well, we were 98.7% sure).

2.) "Last time, a lot of the nurses kept telling me I was close when I was pushing -- but I wasn't really THAT close until the final push, like, the last few seconds," I said. "Will you tell me I'm close when like, I'm honestly CLOSE to being done?"
And James agreed.

So, there we were, and James had my left leg and probably a nurse was on my right. The ordeal is already becoming a blur (thank god), but here are some notes:

--James really came through in the clutch, and told me when I was close (to having the baby out). I believed him. He wouldn't lie or exaggerate to me. And we got that baby evicted pretty fast! James' level of *calm* is super nice in the delivery room.

--Pushing felt GOOD when I was birthing Ana. It felt productive and like it was taking some of the pressure away, and I swear, her head was out and her body slid out next, effortlessly. At least, that's how it went down in my head.

--Pushing was really challenging this time. Despite the fact that it took only ... 5-10 minutes, vs. 40 minutes with Ana? I don't know how to account for the difference. Regardless, I told several people after Ana that pushing is the nice part of L&D. And that it doesn't hurt so much. LIES. I'm so sorry to whomever I steered in the wrong direction. Pushing is crazy.

--There weren't as many people in the room as there were for Ana -- remember, I had meconium in my water with her, so there was all that pressure for Anz to take a breath right away. This time, no meconium, fewer medical professionals ... still a lot of voices. Also, it seems no one had told them about my hip flexor issue. They kept telling me to curl into myself, like hold my legs in that position, and I was straight panicking, like, "NO, I'M NOT BEING DRAMATIC, MY LEGS REALLY DON'T MOVE THAT WAY RIGHT NOW." Ow.

--I believe I also lost hope for a slight moment, and maybe even yelped (8 seconds before doing the biggest push of my life and getting Robby out), "I can't! I'm not sure I can!"

--His shoulders twisted out of me at a funny angle. Not ready to talk about that one just yet. (Youch).

--I laughed at myself later and remembered how I was kind of a baby this time around, but James saw it differently, which makes me love him even more. He said something like, "No, you were in beast mode. You hunkered down so much faster than last time and got the baby out in what, four contractions? No one would ever call you a baby for that." He is bae.

But then, just like in the movies and that Pampers commercial that makes me fog up every time ... the entire moment just turned to slow motion. I looked up, the pain down below already seemed like it was behind me, and I saw that we had a son. Our son. The room erupted with, "BOY!" and it was like, of course he was. At first, I was so sure! Should have kept trusting my instinct. I caught a glimpse of his sweet (angry) face, knew he was my Robs, and my heart just felt like it was bursting already.

"James! You have a son!" I think I called out. Even though he knew, probably a half-second before I did. "WE have a son!"

I teared up but I didn't cry. Just like last time? How am I so emotional during "This Is Us" yet I don't cry when meeting my own children?

Also, honestly, I lovvvve not knowing the sex! I recommend not finding out, to anyone even slightly considering it. Learning once you've delivered is so so cool, for lack of a better word. It's this huge flood of emotion: You're done birthing a human, you get to meet said human, and you finally get to know!

My guys

Like I said, I had a hunch the entire time that he was a boy, but just like with Ana, I questioned it a bit, especially toward the end! I mean, do I have hunches, or lucky guesses? You tell me.

Back to the birth (it's hard not to jump around!)  They handed me his warm, sticky little body and I just loved on him. He was mad about it, haha, just like his sister. But he was HERE. And he had the cutest little lips, nose and old man face! It was an out of body experience. I held it together somehow. I didn't ramble like last time. I was just kind of trying to take it all in. I couldn't believe he was here. It seemed like only a minute ago, I was in the bathroom, deciding if I should GO on the sly. Only 12 hours earlier, I was snuggled up to James, cozy in bed, wondering how our 2018 would unfold. Only 24 hours earlier, I was crying about transitions, and nervous to give Ana a sibling. And now I was sitting here with a son. My precious boy.

The medical team delivered my placenta, got me all cleaned up and stitched up (had another slight injury), and all the while I just snuggled a baby. He didn't want to nurse right away, unlike Ana, but he did get cozy on my chest and we did way more than the recommended hour of skin to skin. TBH, around here, it's more like a few months of skin to skin. I love it so much.

We named him right away. I was so happy to finally have some water, and for the nurse to take my damn IV out.

I just remember shaking viciously, post-birth. It was like my body was in shock. Delivering is SO HARD. I forgot how hard, even under the best of circumstances. I was like, cold and sore and hungry and overcome with emotion and I couldn't get my body under control.

They weighed and measured him eventually: 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and nearly 21 long. So much for "a nice little 6-pound baby," as Dr. T predicted. Although, admittedly, I gave him a hard time about his prognostication, citing Ana's birth stats, and he was all, "You're right, so much of this is bullshit!" He also told me early on that I was probably having another girl, based on the fact that I wasn't sick with either of them. I'll definitely need to call him out on that too, at our postpartum appointment!

What else? Robby was named after a whole bunch of Roberts in my family: Most notably, perhaps, being my brother Robby, my dad Bob, and both of my wonderful grandpas. We always thought Robert James sounded really nice, and my James, for whatever reason, was against naming the baby after himself. (Which, bummer. I tried to change his mind on this a whole bunch. I love the name James).

After some bonding time in the L&D room, and once we texted and called everyone on our lists, we were moved to the room where we stayed the next night. It was fine! Not like, wonderful, but what hospital room is? (Besides Karmanos, at Beaumont. Totes birthing there next time!) 

You know, an aside: I heard a LOT of horrible things about our hospital toward the end of my pregz, but for the most part, the staff we encountered and the space we took up -- was great. I wasn't pressured toward a C-section (the topic never even came up), or an epidural (despite a few reminders) or ANYTHING. The on-call doctor was wonderful. ... I feel like I should write a positive review online for Genesys! Honestly, toward the end, I was really starting to regret the fact that I didn't use U of M or one of the Detroit-area hospitals. But this experience was about as perfect as I could have envisioned.

And my mom woke up with Ana at our house, just as we had planned. They arrived at the hospital just before I got wheeled to the recovery room. Ana was quiet but happy!

I'm cheating; this is the three of us at home. The hospital pics with Ana were kind of ... underwhelming!

I think the hospital setting caught her off guard at first. To be fair, it's probably weird to see mama hooked up to an IV and in a hospital bed. She got over that fairly quickly. She sat with us for some pics and gave the baby some suspicious looks, but then played with her stuffed friends solo the rest of the time. Typical! Gotta keep in mind she JUST turned 2.

My dad came later that afternoon to meet Little Robs.

I was bummed -- I had been planning my first dinner post-baby (had decided on this really great Italian place in town), and the idea was that James would go get takeout from there. Indian food was our backup plan. We got Indian takeout after I had Ana. I swear, you don't even know hunger until you've pushed out a baby. That night, you will be like, RAVENOUS. Anyway, everywhere that we had in mind was closed! Because of New Year's Day, of course. We still got takeout and it was still delish. (Well, and I also ate a plain can of tuna on white bread and thought it was delicious, so maybe I'm not a trustworthy source, less than 24 hours after birth). But yeah, the chicken lasagna I had in mind was a no-go. James made up for it by surprising me with a piece of carrot cake (one of my fav desserts).

The rest of our hospital stay was pretty uneventful. We got discharged really fast. Both times now, they never wanna keep me long. It always feels like, "OK, everything's checking out well with the baby, see ya!"  So we just stayed the one night.

Things at home are really good though! We had a smooth transition back. My parents kept Ana an extra night so that we could come home and settle in with the baby. My mom drove her back ... Wednesday? (I believe I gave birth on Monday). And I was sooooo happy to have our girl. It didn't feel right without her.

Comparing the first and second babies, and what it was like to come home from the hospital -- is lol. After Ana, I think I sat around for at least 3 weeks, or until we had to move, and got waited on.

This time, we ran an errand on our way home from the hosp, and then I walked in the door and resumed real life: threw some laundry in, kept organizing Robby's room, etc.  I felt like, life couldn't just STOP because we had a brand-new baby. We also have a toddler who'd be coming home soon, and we needed to keep things moving!

Speaking of that cute toddler ... Ana is so sweet. We really haven't gone out of our way or done anything over the top to make her feel special. But we've included her from the get-go, just like, with integrating her into our new normal. I think it's going well! Her behavior is the same as always. Sometimes she'll still pitch a fit over something like animal crackers, but that's just age 2 for you.

We still chase her around the house and play with her constantly and make sure she has one of us, whenever possible, on "Ana duty" -- to jump in the castle with her (in our living room; her newest obsession), to pour "juicy" cups for, etc.

Like most things, it took her a little bit to warm to him. She was just shy at first. She either calls him "WOBBY" or "YOBBY" or "Baby Robert" (which is so so cute, there are no words). She just asked to hold him the other day for the first time -- and admittedly, he was mid-bottle, so he wasn't that into it. Still, she'd never asked before, and I didn't want to tell her no. So I set it up! It was pretty cute, despite him screaming and kind of freaking her out.

We're trying not to force him on her, like, "Do you wanna hold the baby? How about now?" I'm very much letting her lead the way on this. I want it to be organic. But I do ask if she wants to be mommy's helper, which she lovvvvves. She "helps" me pick out his outfits in the morning, and grab diapers, and even with bathtime. She likes sprinkling him with water like it's Palm Sunday. It's debatable as to whether or not she's *actually* helping, but I do think she likes the feeling of being a big sister.

She runs around the house saying, "mama-dada-Ana-Wobby-HAPPY FAMILY!"

And she's very concerned when he cries. "Mama! Baby CRYING!" she'll say.

I felt sad when I had to tell her no (when she asked, "Wobby play?")  Like, she wants to play with him already. That is the best. "Soon, bear! So soon, you guys can play all the time!"

I mean, "soon" is kind of a relative term, but whatever, right?

"HODE BRODDER?" (Hold brother?) <--- happened

I won't ramble for too much longer, but Ana also gets excited when I have him give her "kisses" before bed, and when I say, "Can you show Robby?" she'll happily oblige: meaning she'll sing her ABCs for him, count to 20, sing and dance ... AH and then I just melt. Granted, he's kind of startled when she does these things: for example, she'll like, scream the ABCs into his face, because that's how she rolls ... but yeah! Siblings. I love it. I think he'll just grow up used to the fact that he has a crazy older sister.

And then the other day, Robby was crying in his Rock n Play, and I ran downstairs to get something. When I returned, Ana was PETTING HIS HEAD AND HAD GIVEN HIM BLUE. (Her blue blanket, which is her No. 1 comfort item). If that isn't the nicest thing in the world ... I don't know what is. I was choked up! So so touching.

Also "SHOW WOBBY" when "brushing teef" is a definite thing.  :)

Robby's disposition is so sweet. This guy loves mama. I guess that "mama's boy" cliche really does start out early! All he wants to do is sit with me, sleep on me, snuggle, hold hands ... I love it. OK, one night I kind of lost my mind because I swear I couldn't set him down and I just needed solo sleep ... but it's not really a problem anymore. The stressful moments are fleeting.

He's a sleepy guy. You forget how much infants sleep. Like, 18 of 24 hours in a day. If we didn't have Anz, we'd all be so well-rested!

You can already tell he's gonna just get used to it being loud around here. He and Ana sleep through each other's noises and are generally unrattled/unfazed by one another.

He looks just like Ana. I look down some days and it's like I'm holding her as an infant all over again. We've been getting a lot of comments from people saying he looks like James too.

It's just so different, forming my bond with Anz and then thinking about how it's been developing with Robs. With Ana, it was like, all-consuming, right out the gate. From the moment she was placed on my chest, she was just my entire world. We just like, took one another in for weeks. James barely had any time off work, so it was just the two of us, day and night. With Robby, it wasn't exactly that.

WHAT a tiny friend.

He was born and it was almost surreal. It took me forever to absorb the fact that he was finally here! I was like, thinking about Ana, and texting work to get FMLA paperwork finalized, and worrying about nursing and in a little bit more post-birth pain than I had been with Anz. But we continue to bond with each passing day, like in the quiet moments, when the whole house is sleeping except the two of us. I'll sing to him or read or just smile and tell him he's my boy. Or I'll take in his tiny smiles as he peers up at me from his bouncer, and just melt. He clenches my hand so tight and sleeps probably the best out of anywhere, on my chest. I love feeling his little body rise and fall with his breath. Or feeling his sweet breath on my cheek. He makes the sweetest cooing noises, and I swear, he's trying to talk to me. I tear up sometimes just looking at him. He is my kind little boy, who I'll dance with someday at his wedding (well, if he gets married!)  His temperament is already so loving. I could just squeeze him all day long -- well, and I kind of DO.

I'm doing things a little different this time, too, based on lessons I learned with Ana. I'm taking a shower whenever possible, just a body rinse usually, for the sole reason that it feels SO GOOD and I'm freezing and you gotta put the oxygen mask on yourself before you can help anyone else, you know? (Airplane analogy I heard recently). Self-care has been prioritized. Also, when Ana would refuse to get set down, I'd just be like, "OK then, that's my day! I guess I'll stay glued to this chair." And I'd forget to eat or drink and I'd hold my pee as long as possible and just stay put. This time? That's not so much an option. I will set him down, whether he likes it or not. A million different times or ways, until he accepts it. Because I have to, you know? I have to chase his sis! We still get our snuggle on, don't you worry.

Happy in mama's lap

But yeah, the art of successfully setting him down ... is life. I mean, worst-case scenario is, I wake him up and have to try again in a bit. But best-case scenario? You get a hot shower and a few hours to yourself or with your toddler. And that's the best.

I'm also asking for help moreso this time around, even if that just means asking for water. (I have like, a water cup in every room and I just request that James helps me always keep 'em filled).

Oh, and for anyone also postpartum or who's about to be: The first few weeks are really hard, I think, even under the best conditions. I'm telling you this in solidarity, not to freak you out. But I had a really frustrating day where, even after switching to bottles (yes, I'm pumping again), Robby would just EAT AND EAT AND EAT and then come off, and spit up all over. And then do it all over again. He wasn't back to birth weight yet, and I felt like he wasn't even retaining any of the food, and I was just texting my mom and friends, holding back tears. I was reminded that as "easy" as things were with Ana, we had those days, too. Where you're still getting to know one another, and your coffee is cold again and you just feel like you can't win or you're not sure what your next move should be. It gets easier! We're almost a month postpartum, and I'm here to remind you that it really does get better. One morning you wake up and none of it seems like a big deal anymore. Whatever you were freaking out about will be a thing of the past.

And in other (final) news, Ana leapt out of her crib two weeks ago and now she's in a big girl bed. Life is full of transitions over here!

I could probably type forever about this crazy chapter in our lives. We went out for brunch yesterday, just James and I, and we were like, "What did we doooo?"  Haha but we said it with love. Never have our lives been busier or sleepier (some mornings), but NEVER have our hearts been filled with so much love. For each other and these beautiful babes.

More soon, my friends! Anyone who actually read this whole thing deserves a medal.

xoxo