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

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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.

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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

Baby update! (They're now 4 and 2). What? 🤷🏻‍♀️

You guys.
YOU GUYS!
How has it been this long since I've blogged?

Ugh, I hate when I start out a post that way, because I feel like I used to do it all the time. Then finally I was like, "Stop starting every blog like that and just BLOG more frequently, ya know?"

Ya know?

Ugh. Also I haven't gotten Wix or made this pretty yet *despite being a web person.* Do I suck, or what?
K, let's get down to biz. The last time I blogged about the babes, well ... I am ashamed to report it was more than a year ago.
A YEAR!
Do you remember when I used to do once-a-month updates for Analisa?
I am awful.
"Sorry no one documented your life, Robs!"
Such classic second-child shit. I have to imagine if there's ever a third, (s)he'll be raised by the first two, taking Swedish naps and getting full-on neglected.
Halfffff-kidding?
Plz tell me you know what a Swedish nap is.
Anyway!
Legitimately, I've had notes in my phone all year about these sweet babes. I suppose we should just dive in, right?

Let's start with Robby, because we don't give him the time and attention he deserves:
ROBBY IS THE ABSOLUTE LOVE OF MY LIFE, OMG.
You guys, he spells his name with a Y, not an -ie. But that's just a side rant.
He is the snuggliest little 2-year-old the world has ever known. He turned 2 on New Year's Day, and I can't even believe it. Feels like just yesterday he was puking up my own breastmilk into my hair. And then almost-walking for what felt like eight months straight. And then sleep-regressing randomly for three more. lol, he's had his moments, that's for sure. Sometimes he'll still just like, get in a bad mood and he's unable to shake it. But for real ... the love of my life, no take-backs. The sweetest boy. What was my life before him? Oh, and these aren't just things I say. He is SO NICE and just wants to sit on your lap all day and get carried around the house. No matter how independent he really is (and he really is), he just has so much room in his heart for pure love and joy. It's like he needs me more than Ana ever needed me. And it's not just that he's a mama's boy. He loves everyone he sees regularly. He calls out for Meese and Grandbob (pronounced "Bob-bob"), and says I love you and thank you and so many sweet phrases. If he hurts Ana, he'll say, "I sorry, Ana." I know he's still a baby, but I truly think he's so kind and gentle at times and loving. I am incredibly proud to be his mom, and he melts me every day.

Even when he was MUCH smaller, he had manners. I swear, some of his first words weren't "mama" or "dada" -- they were "thank you." At the Children's Museum one morning, a man handed him a toy that he had dropped, and he said very clearly, "ANK OOO." The guy was like, ... "um, am I imagining it, or did that baby just thank me?" And I was like, "Ah no, he most definitely thanked you. I believe the proper response is, 'You're welcome.'" And we had a laugh.

Robs was the opposite of Ana when it came to walking. They say about the 1-year mark is when kids typically learn to walk, and a week after her first birthday, Ana took a step, another few, and she was off. Forever.

Robby, on the other hand, showed all the signs of readiness early af, pulled up, and THOUGHT ABOUT IT for. Ev. Er.

The doctor was all, "This guy will be walking at his 9-month appointment!" and nope, he sure wasn't. He threw himself around the house recklessly instead. I think he wanted to keep up with Ana, and he wasn't as fast on his feet as he was on all fours, so he stayed crawling.

Then around 14 months, he finally took off and never looked back. I was so relieved. Not because I suspected he was delayed ... just like, the questions from everyone else were insufferable. "Tell me he's walking regularly."
"STILL A HARD NO."
But babies do things when they're ready.
And his crawl was so cute and baby-like! One day I knew he'd stop and I'd never see it again. Why rush things?
Why do we rush our babies to grow up?
(Well, I would love to stop buying diapers).

Anyway, Robby has always been physical (read: crazy) and quite vocal. I still think he talks more than the other 2-year-olds I see him around -- and much more. It's so nice though. He just tells me what he wants, for the most part, and that's so convenient. He loves: juice (ugh, sue me), his family, playing, Wreck-It Ralph, Snowy Day -- he sings along and actually has a really good voice and I'm not just saying that! -- yogurt, BOOKS omg books, cozy blankets, grabbing people's faces 🙄, the woman who checks our badges at Ana's school, sleeping in (thank GOD), Baby Beluga, stealing mama's work things, climbing onto anything he can manage, the outdoors, and repeating back to you anything and everything. He's good-natured, he loves to laugh, will hold your hand and he finally gave up his bottle at about 18 months. I know, I'm a bad mom for letting him keep it that long, but it was essentially his comfort item. And then, proof that all things pass, one day he was just done. And I'm a little sad about that, too, tbh.

Every morning, Ana opens his door when she hears him caw, and they play for a few minutes. It's seriously the cutest thing to overhear. She says, "Good morning, WOBBY," and he squeals, "Hiiiii, Ana!" or "Ana-YEESA!" They are often really good to each other, and other times awful. But not in the mornings. In the mornings, they're the sweetest. Ana used to say he was her husband, but I heard it got annulled or something. The divorce doesn't seem contentious; that's the good news. No matter, watching these two become tiny friends has become life's greatest joy.

What else ... he was slow to cut teeth. Jim used to say, "No one takes you seriously Rob, with those 4 teeth ya got in there. Grow some more, sir, then we'll chat."

Robby and Grandbob

Oh, one final story. Robby started leaping out of his crib earlier than he probably should have. And I don't mean he was slowly finding ways to slink on out of there. We'd hear these CRASH landings and be like, "Shit. This is it. The time he breaks his leg. F." Finally, ready or not, we figured we couldn't stand by and let an accident happen. We had to move him to a toddler bed. So we had to baby-proof the absolute shit out of his room -- actually, I think this was around the time we switched their rooms, so that he couldn't pull a dresser on top of him -- but anyway, it was crazy, having this 18-month baby wandering the room in the dark at night, reckless as all get out.

It took him awhile to get used to it. Sometimes we'd just find him in the morning, passed out in his closet or in a pile of clothes on his floor. What a frat guy. Sometimes he'd make a huge scene and mess and we'd have to go up there 40 times and remind him to get in, and stay in, bed. It was an adjustment. We didn't love it. But we didn't know what other options we had. (Also, he can't open doors, so at least we knew he'd stay in there). Anyway. One day, I swear, he was going absolutely ham in there, on a war path of crime and destruction. I swung open the door and there was just this tiny man -- and he goes, "ey. Peek boo."

OMG I'm laughing out loud just thinking about it. I was like, "YEAH, not peek-a-boo, m-f. You're not scaring or surprising anyone, I thought the upstairs just got bombed, get back in bed!"

He is such a clown. Ugh and he's gotten SO CUTE; should I drop some more pics? Yes. I wish you could hear his laugh, too. So old-man-ish and chortle-y. It always has been, really. It's only getting better with age!

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

K, wanna know what's popping with Analisa?

You guys, she goes to school now!

!!!!!!!!!!!!

And she loves it, which truly warms my heart and makes me feel so good about our decision to send her -- I was on the fence about preschool at first, but like, it was just the right move at the right time. She's old-ish for her grade, but not inappropriately so, as she's in the 3-year-old program but turned 4 in early December. But she's just so grown up and none of that even matters. She loves her teachers, her friends, she's still debatably socially awkward at times, but just in a way where we snark on her a bit for being a kid. Kids are strange. She's OBSESSED with her friends but sometimes won't say bye to them. lol, what can you do? I love hearing her stories about who was misbehaving or what they had for a snack or whether or not she napped (she never does).

Also, we were going to opt in for two days a week, mornings only, but then I decided in the 11th hour ... why drive her all the way up there for just two hours? I know, it's only 10 minutes away, but really -- I could use the time to write and work.

So she does full days Tuesdays and Thursdays -- 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. We just threw her in, from 0 socialization (what a scam anyway) and home all day with us, to full school days.

And ... OMG it's glorious. Some days we're like, "Wait, is this a preview of the rest of our lives? We can just send our kids to school and keep existing? The teachers take it from here?" I know I said I don't like to rush the present but LORD does that sound good. When I send Anz to school and Jim's home with Rob, I can get 6 hours -- the bulk of my work day! -- done. Sometimes Rob even naps and Jim can go back to bed. And like, what is life? SCHOOL IS AMAZING.

Ana remains such a talker, always learning and challenging herself without even knowing it and teaching me new things. Not a joke; she's currently obsessed with dinosaurs and she knows SO much. The other day, she was like, "Mumma, what's that dinosaur that looks like a lion?" And I was like, "Hmm, do you just mean like, a basic-ass lion?" And she got frustrated for a second because she had some type of dino specifically in mind.

Turns out, she was right. What do I know?*
*Nothing.

She asks me SUCH good questions.

She'll be like, "Where does the sun go, when I go to bed?" And I'm like ... "It revolves around ... no wait, we revolve ... no, we're tilted? That's not right ... ummm, the kids around on the other side of the world need the sun! It's just ... taking a break."

"What are clouds made of?"

...

"Does Minnie Mouse have bones?"

...

"Are dinosaur bones in the ocean?"

OMG I should have paid attention in elementary school. And like, wtf do you even say about Minnie? In theory, she WOULD have bones?

I still don't really believe in terrible 2s. Her 2s were delightful; she had like, one bad day, relax.

Most of 3 was Gucci.

She did kinda turn into a tiny terrorist for a hot second (don't even make me type out the story of when she assaulted me and Robby at the park, not to mention the innocent bystanders), but I'd still say 3, overall, was fine. Four's been much of the same -- every now and then, she gets irrational, but it's not bad. I will say, I do a lot of Googling to make sure she feels heard and validated. I'm not mom of the year, but if you look up "Why do kids whine?" it really does help you address the issue head on. The internet is incredible and I love parenting in the age of. <--- I know, this sentence is jacked and it hurts my copy editor heart, but you feel me.

Some of the notes I had written down for Ana include:

One day, maybe six months ago? She got super attached to a bunny. But she didn't just say, "Have you seen my bunny?" or "Have you seen my rabbit?" Out of the blue, she was just like, "Mumma? Daddy? Have you seen my SWEET, SWEET, SWEET, SWEET BUNNY?"

OMG we couldn't stop laughing. Like, what makes the bunny so sweet? Why all of a sudden? She really referred to him that way for a few weeks. The other day I asked about him, and if she remembered her sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet bunny -- and she was just like, yeet.*

*not really.

In the car after school, she scolded me even and said, "We don't say YEET, mommy. We say yes."

😳😳😳

Or she got on a big tear even longer ago, called WHAT SAID?

Where, any time she needed something repeated, she would just go real fast, "WHAT SAID?" (which might have even been "what did you say?" But that quickly, it just came out as one garbled WHATSAID?")

We would laugh and laugh.

She still loves dancing and performing. She loves movies and shows and books and memorizes anything you read to her at least five times. She reads "Too Purpley" to Robby almost every night and takes it upon herself to show him her books and teach him things. She loves him and she's a pretty tolerant big sister, for the most part. I think having a sibling close in age makes you better. She's proof of that. Sometimes I rock her at night and tell her how grateful I am for her. I know it's hard to be the big sister some days.

You have to watch what you say in front of her because she remembers it alllllll. Also she just picks up on everything. If I hand her my cellphone, she pretends she's talking to Natalie, Candace or James and uses all my same phrases. "You will not believe this, guys!" ... "I am *obsessed* with Frozen!" <--- really said dat

She really does love Frozen. Obsessed is not the wrong word, or an exaggeration. She's been to the movies twice now -- Toy Story 4 and Frozen 2, but she talks about F2 relentlessly.

She gets a kick out of the fact that we have real names, and calls us James and Michelle. Or even Jims P or a silly nickname. "Daddy? Why do you call mumma 'boo?'" She'll ask.

Ana's big into the Disney princesses, picking out her own outfits, doing things by herself, and trying to make us laugh. She's gotten a little less reserved and will talk to strangers at TJ Maxx about how she just got the Rapunzel doll and she's hoping for Belle next. She lovedddddd Christmas and finally *got* the magic of it all. It was so fun to witness. "How does Santa get in my house?" she asked on Christmas Eve. "Erm, the chimney I guess," I said. "Is that safe?" she asked. "That doesn't make sense."

I was just like, ... "Yeah, that's just the rumor."

She's not as cuddly as Robs (never has been), but wants you to lie in bed with her as she falls asleep and will shadow you around the house all day, every day. She wants to learn from you and talk to you and laugh with you. She loves my friends to pieces, along with all her sitters. She's very curious about the world, like I said, and just asks good questions daily: "Mama, when will I stop being a kid?" she asked yesterday. "Because I like being a kid."

She remembers everything. Her memory is SCARY good; she'll bring up things from when she was a baby, and we're like, "Does she really know? Or were we recently talking about this and she overheard?"

Ana loves crappy snacks (although, some days we achieve balance with some carrot sticks), waffles with peanut butter, dressing up in costumes, getting a rise out of the people around her, playdates with her friends, learning to write her letters, Disney+, school days -- "Tuesdays and Thursdays, mumma!", sleeping in our bed, Blue (although he's slowly getting phased out!), showing Robby the world, playing in the garage, pretending, winter hats, bath time, tickle monster daddy, pretending to "work," hide-and-go seek, art projects, making little tasks for everyone -- and avoiding dinner, then requesting a Nutrigrain bar 10 minutes after she's brushed her teeth.

She is the absolute best.

Some funny things she's said semi-recently that were in my phone:

"Hey yidda buddy!" <--- how she used to refer to Robs (little buddy)
"Who bought this for me?" (about everything) ... "I dunno Anz, it's a light switch, it came with the house. I guess we did?"
"Jim. Stop. Listen to me." lololol
"You know who's a creep, Baby Wobert? YOU ARE." Again, we had to leave the room, we were laughing too hard.
"You are so, so, so, SO handsome, Baby Wobert."   xoxoxo
<when an alarm was going off and we were ignoring it> "Mama? Daddy? Mom? Dad? Or Jim? Or Michelle? Hello? Help?"
"I'm all done pee-peeing WOBBY!"
"Good idea, mumma. Really a good idea."
"Wobby! Do you want to see my new bathing suit? It has WHALES ON it!" <meanwhile BR DGAF -- he's just sitting there sobbing, mad that he woke up from nap earlier than intended.>
"What is a metaphor, mommy? I heard you say dat word to daddy."
"May I use the cupholder for my milk?"
Me: "Ana, Daddy's coming. Better hide!" Ana: "OK, I hide BEHIND THE RED CASTLE THEN."
"Hello? Dis is Mickey!" <--- inside joke with Robs

Oh and her constipation went away when she finally started using the potty. THANK GOD. Longtime blog followers (all six of you) will remember that dominated our lives for ... most of her life! Robby goes around the clock, so it's never been an issue for him. Now you know too much.

Also, she self-potty trained at 3 1/2, maybe just a touch before. Again, kids just kinda do stuff when they're ready, right?

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

Ugh. No more excuses. Need to blog semi-regularly again before they're 14 and 16 and I've missed everything. I got promoted (humble brag? Sorry) mid-last year, then became a birth doula but not really because I still need to do some certifying births ... so @ me if you're pregnant? lol

And a lot of the days I'm just like, up with the kids early and then I work 10 hours and I'm up late editing and I sleep sometimes, then a year passes and I haven't written about my kids at all. And they're everything. And now we're moving out of state. And I'm not ready to write about that.

Shoutout to anyone who read this insanely long rambling!

Because I am unable to end this, doesn't Baby Rob look like Uncle Rob? Here's (my brother) Robby and my mom, circa probably ... 1992?