October

In late August/early September I started having dreams that I was pregnant. I haven't been on birth control for several years, and while I always knew it was a possibility, I didn't really THINK it was a possibility. If that makes sense. But I had some expired pregnancy tests in the bathroom drawer, so I took one every few days - negative. Until I got a faint line the day my period was due. WHAT?! I immediately started Googling "false positives on expired pregnancy tests" and that got me nowhere. So I headed to CVS for a new test. Chad had come home by that time and when the very obvious second line showed up, I rushed down to the kitchen, test in hand, and just stood there laughing and crying like a lunatic. Holy. Crap. I was pregnant.

We were definitely in shock, but started to get excited. We had still never decided if we were going to have another child, and it seemed like this was the answer! It was just meant to be. No decisions to make. I set up an initial appointment with a new OB (I had issues with my old office), which also meant I would deliver at a different hospital than I had with Amelia. We told our immediate family and some close friends because I just didn't feel like keeping the secret. They were all thrilled, of course.

I had my first appointment and ultrasound with the new practice at 7w3d. There was our little blob! A heart rate of 138 and measuring 6w5d but the doctor was ok with that. She did see a tiny pocket of non-active bleeding that she wanted to recheck in a few weeks but told me she wasn't concerned at all and it was probably from implantation. My due date - May 10. Three days before my own birthday, and always the week of Mother's Day.

And with that, we told a few more people. Including Amelia, whose reaction was a little underwhelming, but c'est la vie. She's four, after all. I allowed baby fever to officially take over. I signed up for all of the apps and emails, started ordering new maternity clothes because the seasons wouldn't line up for my old ones. I made lists of names. My belly got bloated almost immediately and it was hard to button my jeans. I was starving all the time, got lightheaded and nauseous a few times to the point of needing to buy Seabands. I planned our Facebook announcement since we already had family photos scheduled for October 25 - the end of my first trimester.

We were still freaking out over the logistics - rearranging rooms, my being in a new (work from home) job with no short term disability. Two kids in daycare to pay for. Yikes. But we would make it work.

Last Friday, I told my coworkers over our weekly Skype video chat. I was just shy of nine weeks, but with only four people in our group and the nature of telecommuting, I just felt like I needed to share since one other team member was already pregnant and we needed to plan.

The night of Monday, Oct. 5 - the same day I got Amelia's big sister shirt in the mail along with a home Doppler an online friend of mine was kind enough to loan me - I started spotting. The doctor had told me that pocket of blood she saw could lead to brown spotting so I tried not to be alarmed. It was brown. And then there was some red. But more brown. I tried to calm down and called the office first thing in the morning. They told me to come in at 11:50. Chad was working, and I just prayed everything was ok and went alone.

As soon as I saw the ultrasound come up on the screen, I knew. 

There was no heartbeat. 

The exact day I hit the nine week mark was the day I found out there would be no baby after all. Unbeknownst to me, it had stopped growing at least a week earlier.

I have never had a loss before. But I knew what would come next. The doctor told me my options. Since we were planning to go out of town this weekend to a concert with my friend three hours away, we agreed that a D&C was the best way to go. No fear of the unknown. I was scheduled for the next morning.

I went through the Starbucks drive thru on the way home, and was told the person in front of me paid for my PSL and wanted me to have a good day. I managed not to cry until I pulled away from the window.

I came home and immediately started getting rid of everything. I boxed up the maternity clothes I had hung up in the closet, bagged up what could be returned. Hauled what was left to the basement. Hid all of the Preggie Pop Drops in the back of a cabinet. Deleted the apps, the pictures, unsubscribed from the emails. I was ANGRY. I refused to look at myself in the mirror or look down because that little bloated bump that I'd been excited to accent no longer meant anything. I buttoned my jeans out of spite even though it was uncomfortable. Every time Chad hugged me that night I cried. We "untold" everyone we needed to. The calls and texts you never want to make. But I kept trying to be me - handling a crisis, compartmentalizing. Let's just take care of this and move forward.

I wasn't allowed to eat after midnight, but didn't have to be at the hospital until 10:15. Long morning. We arrived, checked in. I was taken to be prepped for surgery. I sat in a gown, alone, and started crying because THIS WAS NOT HOW MY FIRST TRIP TO THIS NEW HOSPITAL WAS SUPPOSED TO END. THIS WAS NOT OK. But I got it together again. Made small talk with the nurses. Then when they took my temperature they discovered I had a low grade fever - I knew it was from the sinus problems I'd been fighting. The anesthesiologist arrived and told me he was 99.9% against going forward because of the fever. Too risky. And the crying began anew. One of the nurses went to get Chad, and I lost it when he came in. Sobbing. They told me they were calling my doctor to see how to proceed and left us alone. I kept sobbing that I couldn't do this, I was not going home. The night before I had been so terrified that I was going to have a miscarriage at home before I ever even got to the hospital and there was no way I was going to be sent home that day. I just couldn't do it. Just when I thought this couldn't be any worse, somehow it was.

When the nurses came back with the anesthesiologist they told me the OB had said she could still do the D&C, they would just use other means than general anesthesia. That there could be a risk for infection, and I had to sign a consent acknowledging the risk. Did I want to proceed? YES. God, yes. I signed the form the anesthesiologist gave me, and while I tried to ignore what I saw in his doctor-y handwritten scribbles, I saw the word "abortion." And yes, I knew that technically that was true, but oh, what a terrible thing to see. This was not a choice. Absolutely not my choice. Finally I was on my way to surgery. Still making small talk, trying to be cheerful and cooperative, but the last thing I remember is being in that bright white operating room and seeing the white board across from me that read "D&C with suction." I will never, ever, ever forget that. THIS IS NOT OK. But it will be ok...

So. Here I am about 24 hours later. And the question has been asked 100 times. "How are you doing?" And how do I answer that? Physically I'm doing alright. A little pain but nothing unbearable. Emotionally? Well, 48 hours ago I was pregnant. Today I am not. And I am back to square one of "Do we do this again?". So I'm angry. No, actually I am FUCKING PISSED. When we got the "surprise" it just seemed meant to be. God's will and all that. So what does it mean that this has been taken away? Is this supposed to make us realize we did in fact want another baby? I don't know. I know there is no explanation, that these things happen. But this is like the ultimate cruel joke. I feel at the moment like this cannot be the end of our story. That that cannot be my last trip to that hospital. That I need redemption and a happy ending. But there is healing to do, and discussion to be had, and planning to consider.

I shared this on my Facebook wall last night: 
"Because about a month ago we got some amazing, surprising news.
Because today we got some heartbreaking news.
Because I was planning to make a very different Facebook post in a few weeks.
Because it is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I know that we are far from alone. Please know that you aren't either. <3"

I was touched by how many people reached out privately. To tell me they are currently or have recently gone through very similar things. I hate that this happens to anyone. But I am glad they felt comfortable sharing their stories with me. My heart goes out to everyone who has ever dealt with a loss, now more than ever.

And as for our story, I guess the next chapter is up in the air. 

FOUR

(Posted about a month belatedly. I'm sorry!)

Dear Amelia,

I didn't expect to be so emotional about your fourth birthday, but I've spent a week fighting back tears as I put together a slideshow of pictures from the past year and get ready for your carousel themed birthday party. This summer has turned you into a big kid. I feel like you get taller every day - your legs are getting longer and skinnier, your face is getting thinner, your hair is getting longer. I am reminded every day that before long you'll be going off to kindergarten, and these little kid days will be behind us. I'm not ready, kiddo.

You moved up to the Firefly room at school and your favorite thing to do these days is color and draw. I feel like you rarely play with toys these days - you just want to color and draw and write. You are constantly asking me how to spell words and I'm amazed when you know how to write the letters with little help from me. The other day you wrote quite a bit of the alphabet all by yourself. I may be biased but I think you are one smart little cookie.

You insist on wearing dresses every day and love girly things. You're still obsessed with Frozen and dressing up in princess dresses. Mommy is a little sad that your Ellie elephant you slept with for the past few years is no longer a necessity for bedtime, and you've been rotating through other stuffed animal friends instead.

You are still our little love bug. You love giving kisses and hugs and snuggling. In the mornings you often come into our room and tap me on the arm before asking if you can snuggle before we get up for the day. Yes. The answer will always be yes.

Of course you still have your stubborn moments - you like to get your way and you are an expert negotiator. ("Just one more?" "Just a few more minutes?") You throw some doozy fits every now and then but overall you're just an awesome kid. Your language is so clear and precise and you are inquisitive and silly.

You recently started ballet instead of gymnastics and when I snuck a peek in the room you were twirling all over the place. I hope you are always so happy and carefree.

Happy 4th birthday, princess! We love you so much!

Love always,
Mommy

Dear Amelia - 3.5 Years

Dear Amelia,

This past weekend we celebrated your cousin's fourth birthday. That means in less than six months YOU are going to be four. I'm having trouble believing that can be true. Four isn't a baby anymore. Four is definitely a big girl. 

You are absolutely, without a doubt the light of our lives, sweet pea. You are making up for all of those rough months at the beginning of your life by being the most amazing toddler/preschooler. While you are certainly stubborn and ornery at times, you are really very well-behaved most of the time. I've had many people comment about how "good" you are. The tantrums I hear about from other kids your age are few and far between, though you get frustrated by the word "no," of course. You want to be independent, putting on your coat by yourself and wanting to help make lunch and dinner (which you also call lunch). Speaking of which, you're still a great eater - you'll happily eat fish, steak, broccoli, and salad with "cranch," though macaroni and cheese is still your favorite.

You are definitely a girly girl. You love princess dress-up (Frozen!) and twirly dresses and pink/sparkly things. You've also inherited your daddy's artistic abilities. You love to color and draw and are great at it. I'm impressed! You can spell your name and are working on writing it. You love singing, being silly and being tickled. And we are thrilled that you still love hugs and kisses and snuggles, which you initiate all the time.

Right around when you turned three you finally started sleeping really well, all the time. You're now in your toddler bed and are quite happy there. You even let Mommy snuggle in with you and your Ellie elephant for a little bit at bedtime and it's one of my favorite moments every day. 

There are times when I still can hardly believe you're mine, because I'm just in awe of what a wonderful, beautiful little person you are becoming. I love you so much, Amelia Bedelia.

Love always,

Mommy

Happy 3rd Birthday to You!

Dear Amelia,

Happy third birthday, sweet pea! You just keep growing and growing, smarter and more fun and more beautiful with each day and month. There's a quote I've been seeing that sums up your personality pretty well: "And though she be but little, she is fierce." You are so sweet and loving - you happily give "BIG hugs" and kisses, but you are stubborn and know what you want, when you want it, little girl! I hope you'll continue to channel that passion and drive into your life in positive ways as you get older. Despite all of that, you are still pretty well-mannered and happy. Sleep is still an issue for us but we're working on that, right? We tried moving you to a big girl bed by taking the front off your crib, but you cried and begged us to put it back on after two days, so back it went. We're happy to let you stay little as long as we can!

You still love reading books, playing dress up and pretend (you love princesses, Frozen, and using your toy stethoscope as a lasso when you're a cowgirl). Gymnastics is still going well, even though it's hard for you to wait your turn sometimes. We've finally gotten the hang of potty training (I know you'll be thrilled to read this later in life). You've moved up to the 3-year-old Honeybee room at school and I know I'm biased but you are so darn smart - sometimes too smart for your own good! You speak so clearly and carry on conversations, but you also love to be silly and love to be tickled. You're great at coloring inside the lines already (I think you got that artistic talent from Daddy) and you love to sing. I feel like you surprise me with a new song every day.

At your three year check up yesterday you were 34 lbs (75th percentile) and 37.5 inches tall (50th percentile). A reflection of your love of eating! You aren't too picky - you'll eat chicken, pork ("fork" as you say), salmon, broccoli, and green beans, but your favorite is still macaroni and cheese.

We had your Teddy Bear Picnic party which actually happened on your birthday this year, and you had a lot of fun with our friends and family. We are so proud of you, baby. You are such a joy, and while you're shy and hesitant around new people, once you warm up to them they can't help but love you! And your daddy and I love you so much.

Love always,
Mommy

20 Questions with Amelia, Age 3

1. What is your favorite color? Blue

2. What is your favorite toy? Books

3. What is your favorite fruit? Apples

4. What is your favorite TV show? Doc McStuffins

5. What is your favorite outfit? Watermelon dress

6. What is your favorite game? Phones (playing games on Mommy's phone)

7. What is your favorite animal? Koala

8. What is your favorite song? ABCs

9. What is your favorite book? Llama Llama

10. Who is your best friend? Zoey

11. If you had $100 what would you buy? Milk

12. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Play ball

13. What is your favorite drink? Water

14. Where is your favorite place to go? The store

15. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? Elephant

16. What is your favorite snack? Bunny Grahams

17. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? A cereal bar

18. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Macaroni and cheese

19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? Cupcakes and cake

20. What do you want to be when you grow up? BIG!

Why I Hate *That* Question

I got one of those comments on a Facebook post last week, on a random Timehop picture I'd shared of Amelia: "So when is she getting a little brother or sister?" Let me go on record and say I HATE THIS QUESTION. For so many reasons. I bit my tongue and replied with, "Maybe when she sleeps all night and we win the lottery." But the friend couldn't leave it alone. "If I'd waited for those things I'd never have had my second kid." To which I replied, gritting my teeth some more, "Well, the good thing is everyone gets to decide what's best for their own family. *smiley face*" Some other comments ensued, and I considered a new status that told the truth about exactly why I hate that question, but I didn't. I chickened out, because I feel the things that I have to say on that subject are not things that anyone wants to hear. Because I feel like saying them in a public forum makes me vulnerable, and ruins my credibility as a "good mom." And because I'm not sure I want to share some of those feelings with my beautiful daughter, at least not when she's young. So I'm going to say it here, even though I have said some of these things here before.

*deep breath*

What I wanted to say is that before Amelia was born, I loved babies (and most kids, really). I wanted to hold every newborn I could get my hands on, and I didn't even care if they cried. I had always thought I would like to have three kids, though I thought two might be ok. I wanted nothing more than to be a mom. Then I became one, and everything changed. I loved my baby. And I do not ever, EVER want her or anyone else to think otherwise. But the first year of her life was hell in so many ways. I know all mothers (and fathers) face an adjustment period where they realize their lives have been turned totally upside down, and they struggle to find a "new normal." But it wasn't just that for me, for us. She had colic and reflux and UTIs, and she never slept. Every time I heard about other people's kids taking three hour naps, I wanted to cry. Ok, sometimes I did cry. My baby took 20 minute naps. And she cried so much. I could never put her down or the crying started again and I never knew when it might stop. It didn't last for a week or two, it lasted for months.

I Googled the symptoms of PPD several times because I felt so lost and desperate and exhausted that I felt there had to be something clinically wrong with me, because there was no way what I was feeling was normal. I relished every second of every trip when I could run to the store alone for more ($30) formula. But the symptoms didn't really match up with what I was experiencing. So I suffered, and my marriage suffered too. I became the mom and wife they say you shouldn't become - I put my child first, all of the time. There was no room for me to give any time or energy to my husband when this tiny little person who I had wanted more than anything was consuming my every waking moment and making me question my sanity.

Things got a little better as we approached the one year mark, but A was still napping twice a day for 40 minutes and waking up 2-3 times a night. So there was still no "me" time. I could hardly do two loads of laundry, let alone sit down and eat a meal and read a book or catch up on DVRed shows. I was always tired. When I was away from her, I missed her. When I was home with her, I felt like I couldn't give her enough time and energy. It was a vicious cycle. Of course I relished those beautiful baby smiles and giggles and her first steps, and when I watched her sweet face as she slept I was in awe that she was mine. That I was someone's mom. But somewhere in that year, something inside me changed. When I read pregnancy announcements, I of course was happy for the mothers in the abstract sense. But I was no longer excited. I didn't get the twinge and longing to have another baby of my own like so many of my friends with children A's age described. Babies to me were no longer cute little cuddly beings who I wanted to hold and coo at. They were ticking time bombs, a source of constant stress and worry and endless need. And that made me so unbelievably sad. And it still does, as I am fighting back tears as I type this.

Amelia is now 2 1/2. I will be 33 in two months. And the baby clock, it's a-tickin'. I know the odds of a high risk pregnancy increase at age 35. If we're going to have a second child, I don't want them too far apart in age. And with my work schedule and no paid maternity leave, there are only a few months where we could TTC in order for that to work out. And all of that is if we are able to have a second child. Which is the other reason I hate that question. So many couples deal with losses and infertility, including secondary infertility, that you just never know what is happening in someone's journey.

I have a beautiful, smart, amazing daughter who I love more than anything in the world. And while I think there is nothing wrong with having an only child, there is a part of me that desperately wants her to have a sibling. There is a part of me that thinks yes, I do still want another child, but that part of me is in constant conflict with the part that fears next time I could totally lose myself. That I could do irreparable damage to my relationship with the beautiful child I already have if a second time were like the first. Coupled with the other common fears of how could I possibly love another child as much as this one/what if a second child had a major medical issue/how would I ever get two kids out of the house alone/my 2 1/2 year old still doesn't sleep all night/we can't afford two kids in daycare/what if I'm really sick during my pregnancy this time around... It's a constant battle in my head. So yeah. There's the answer. I wish I were brave enough to share it with the rest of the world, but right now I'm not. So if you do get to read a pregnancy announcement from me in the coming year or two, know that I realize it is truly a blessing, but it's one that comes on the heels of a serious internal struggle I never imagined I would face.

On the night you were born...

Dear Amelia,

Yes, I know I just wrote you a letter a few days ago. But this week the hospital where you were born is being demolished. You were born in August, just months before our new hospital opened in November. Seeing the pictures and videos of the place where you were brought into this world being torn down is making me a little emotional. I know, silly Mom - it's just a building. But that building is where my life began - literally, and my life as your mommy.

I wanted to tell you about the time we spent there. Before you were born, Daddy and I went to CPR and childbirth classes at the hospital. I knew my way around the labor and delivery area because your cousins Bella and Zoey were born there not long before you were. During one of our childbirth classes, a huge summer storm hit and we heard them announce a "Code Black" over the PA system. Scary stuff! We were evacuated into the waiting room of labor and delivery to wait for the storm to pass.

The next time we would set foot in that hospital was the night you were born. Mommy had been in labor at home all day, and finally around 10pm we headed to the hospital. Because it was after hours, we knew we had to register in the emergency room. I remember sitting with Daddy as the woman took all of our information, and having to pause when a contraction hit. Your Grammy and Grandpa met us there, and we went up to labor and delivery shortly after. I was first put into a triage room so they could decide if you were really on your way. I was nervous, but we found out we would be staying that night to welcome you into the world.

We were set up in our room, and I'll spare you the details until you want to know them, but four hours after we left our house, you arrived. At the time there were no separate delivery rooms so we stayed put the whole time. Because we had arrived so late in the evening, we spent two nights there instead of one. The nurses took great care of us, and that room became a safe home for the few days we were there. When it was time to leave, I was scared of being on our own. But off we went, back out into the "real world," to begin our life as a family.

So yes, it may just be a building, but it was a building full of memories for me and for so many people we know and love. It makes me sad to think that I won't be able to drive by the hospital one day and show you where you were born, but I wanted to share these memories with you so you could have the most important part of that building for yourself.

Love always,
Mommy

Letter to Amelia - 2 1/2 Years

Dear Amelia,

I feel like I say this every time I write one of these letters, but I can't believe how much you have grown. You're on your way to 3, and that is so hard to believe. You're still my baby! But you are definitely becoming a little girl. You are such a bundle of sunshine and energy. Every day with you is an adventure, and I love the conversations we have now. You are always making Daddy and I laugh. You love to sing and I was so proud of you at your Christmas program and your performance this past week at daycare. You sang the songs (mostly) and weren't afraid of an audience. Not surprising since you are always entertaining us. We're still going to gymnastics on Saturday mornings and you've mastered the forward roll and walking on the beam. You've walked on the lowest one by yourself and were pretty successful. It's been a long, very cold winter and I know we both can't wait until you can play outside again.

You still love books and currently your favorite is a search and find animal book you got for Christmas. You're starting to learn letters and can write a capital "A" with no help from us! You also love playing with Mr. Potato Head, your blocks, dress up with your "princess" skirts and jewelry, and you like to cook for us in your kitchen. You love it when the "tea" is too hot and we spit it out - so funny!

We're working on potty training - you're doing great at daycare but your stubbornness seems to take over at home. We'll get there! You're starting to realize you have choices in life and like to make your opinions known. You like to choose your clothes when we let you (you take your "sparkly boots" off/put them on yourself, and you also can take off your coat - "I do it!"). You would eat macaroni and cheese (or as you sometimes say, "noonles") for every meal if you could, but you still also love green beans, "blockly" (broccoli) and fruit, and you'll usually try whatever Daddy and I are eating. You ask us for your "violins" (vitamins). It took Mommy awhile to understand what that one meant (thanks for translating, Daddy!).

At your 2 1/2 year check up last week you were 30 pounds, 2 oz and 36.5 inches tall - in the 75th percentile. Apparently you still are not a fan of sleep because you wake Mommy up once at least three nights a week, and you don't know the meaning of sleeping in. You still nap pretty well though, and last weekend Mommy loved snuggling up with you in our bed and taking a nap together. You love giving "big hugs!" and I taught you to give Eskimo kisses before bed which you call "kissy nose."

It's so much fun to watch you learn and grow. Daddy and I are so thankful for every day with you and we love you oh so much. I am so lucky to be your mama.

Love always,
Mommy

Hooray, I'm 2 1/2!

Blog of Shame

Um...have I really not posted since November? Oops. I'm coming back, I swear. Life has been crazy with work, a lack of being on any sort of real schedule due to snow (we are currently at 8 missed days and countless two hour delays for my district after this nasty winter), and well the holidays. Which were almost two months ago. Yowza.

I'm hoping to post a two and a half year update/letter for Miss A. I probably have a few other things to fill you in on after that if you haven't written me off yet. (Spoiler alert - no, I'm not pregnant, since that seems to be the question everyone asks you once your kid turns two.)

Until then, here are a couple of holiday pics of my adorable, grown up girl. You know, since I haven't seen you all since then. In the words of Ah-nahld, I'll be back...

Christmas Eve 2013

 

Valentine's Day 2014

 

That's My Girl! (kind of)

*Disclaimer: I am totally, 100% stealing this idea from Lacey over at Life of Lacey.*

99% of people who look at A or her pictures say (with good reason), "She looks just like her daddy!" The handful who tell me she looks like me? Well, they've likely never seen her dad. I have scrounged up a few pictures from when I was young where there is kindasortamaybe a slight resemblance. But there is no mistaking she is my husband's daughter.

When it comes to her personality, though, a bit of her mama peeks through. She seems to be a good combination of both of us - which I suppose is good and bad, depending on the trait!

FOOD
Amelia is, and has always been, a pretty good eater. While she has recently learned she has choices and chooses to exercise them (she requests cheese and "squeezie pouch!" countless times a day), there are very few foods she refuses to touch. Actually, none come to mind. For awhile she wouldn't touch potatoes in any form (I could live on potatoes) but she will happily try just about anything - spicy, squishy, crunchy, cold - you name it, she'll eat it.

My husband is a foodie and is the cook in our house. I wouldn't even cut up a raw tomato or raw chicken until about five years ago, and mushrooms are my kryptonite.
Daddy - 1, Mommy - 0

SOCIALIZING
My kiddo is super shy when meeting people for the first time, or even when interacting with family members she doesn't see often. She's pretty obvious about it too - avoids all eye contact, turns her head, buries it in mom or dad's shoulder, hides behind your legs. She spent her first week or more at her new daycare crying/being held by the teacher (I did the exact same thing when I was in preschool, only I imagine it was harder for the teachers to hold a four-year-old on their lap...). My hubby is still kind of shy and doesn't like new/different situations. So I'll call this one even.

However, I have overcome the shyness thing as I've gotten older. And I love being out and about whenever possible. Amelia, once she gets over her initial discomfort, is quite the silly social butterfly. And she has always enjoyed getting out of the house for a change of scenery. I'm with her on that one, and hoping for a future shopping buddy.
Daddy - 1, Mommy - 1

TOUGHNESS
We've said it since she was young - she's got "a Miller head." Meaning she is tough and bulldozes through/over/around anything in her way. When she falls down or bumps her noggin she often doesn't even cry. She is physical in every way. My mom has told me several times, "You thought you would have a boy - I think you got one anyway." My husband and his brothers played football and have more scars and old injuries than I can count.
Daddy - 2, Mommy - 1

(note purple mark on her forehead where she ran into... who knows what)

PLAYTIME/LEARNING
I think I have a pretty imaginative girl. She's at that great stage where she loves to pretend, whether it's taking care of her babies, cooking/serving food from her play kitchen, or singing silly songs. She loves to read books, and has quickly picked up on numbers, shapes, and colors. (Bragging point - her teacher said she is the only one in their room who knows most of her colors.) My husband was not the scholarly type. And he once told me, "I don't think I've ever read a whole book in my entire life." (As I had a family friend who used to call me "Bookworm" because I was always reading, this statement prompted me to ask, "Do you ever wonder how we're even together?!")
Daddy -2, Mommy - 2

Since we're even at this point, I think I'm going to stop while I'm potentially ahead (we're not counting that she looks just like him in these totals, right? Good.) There are plenty of other ways I think she takes after each of us, from sleeping with her elephant and blankie (still have mine!) to her quick temper/frustration (all Daddy! Ok well...maybe some of me too). I love seeing her personality develop, and I always wonder what the future will bring. Hopefully a good mix of both of us!

Q&A with yours truly

I'm stealing these questions from a blog by a wonderful mama I know in real life. Because I have yet to link my "online world" and my "real life world," I'm not going to provide the direct link to her blog. But she is the mother of a little boy with autism and a sweet little girl, and she writes wonderfully about that and many other things. Let me know if you'd like her info!

1. what is something that people assume about you? is it true?

Hmm... I think people sometimes assume that I've got it all together. That I know what I'm doing. The truth is I feel like I am flying by the seat of my pants most days, and I end many of them wishing for a do-over. I struggle with indecisiveness and anxiety about everything from Halloween costumes to finances to having a second child. It usually isn't reflected on the outside IRL, but it is there for sure.

 

2. if happiness were the national currency, which kind of work would make you rich?

 I have always wanted to be a preschool or kindergarten teacher. I would also love to somehow write for a living.

 

3. do you remember that time last year when you were really, really upset? does it matter now?

Yes. And yes, it does. Maybe not as much as it did at the time, but it's something that has helped me learn to stick to my convictions and trust my instincts.

 

4. if you could offer a newborn child one piece of advice, what would it be?

Sleep!!! But get all the snuggles in you can. Adulthood doesn't come with enough hugs.

 

5. what is something interesting that you know now that you didn't when you were 16? 21?

OH, the things I didn't know then! I'm not sure I even know where to begin. Here are a couple of things I would like my former self to know.

 

At 16 - All of that high school stuff doesn't matter. The friends, the enemies, the boys - all that matters in the end is you, because you're stuck with yourself for the rest of your life. So make the most of that time!

 

At 21 - Your fate isn't sealed the moment you get your college diploma. Live life and experience it. There's no rush for the next stage(s) of your life to begin.

 

6. were your parents right?

Yup. Pretty much! Though I never really argued with them too much.