it's been said

I've been saving up all the funny things Belle has said lately.

Seriously, this girl cracks us up all day long.

Here are some of our favorites:

That's like mine's!

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Get down Lydia! {when I was holding Lydia}

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Unbuckle it up Mommy.

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Your hair smells like Shauntel's. {after smelling my wet, clean hair}

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You smell like...paper. {after smelling my breath}

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This is me. I'm a big sister!

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I put the tiny-stinky-diaper in Grandma's pocket.

{translation: I put the tiny-stinky-diaper in the diaper pail that Grandma brought. Pocket = bucket.}

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I'm such a good mommy! {while bouncing and patting her doll}

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I'm going to my far away house! Bye!

{because Grandma Christensen and her aunties go to their far away house when they leave}

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There's a hole in Daddy's car! {after he waves goodbye out the sunroof}

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Daddy! Put your hand in your hole and say goodbye! {the sunroof}

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Mom...where's your spicy, black water? {An indirect observation on my Diet DP consumption.)

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{after I ask her how old she is} I'm a square!

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Don't cry crowny face! {to Lydia}

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I'm eating by myself. I'm doing such a good job.

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I want Nutella on a spoon, by the way.

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I'm just pushing my babies in the stroller and hanging out.

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{while driving to meet Jess and his friend, Ashton, for lunch}
Jesus loves me and Ashton loves me and Daddy loves me...

cuteness

So let's just say that yesterday saw my temperature topping out at 103.6. Mastitis.

In other words, breast feeding just keeps getting MORE AWESOME.

Sorry to all you folks who love it. I, um, don't.

But here's something we can all agree on: how ridiculously cute this babe is.

Pretty much the cutest thing ever.

But I'm a bit biased.

letters

Dear Hair Blogs:

Thank you for making filthy hair hip.

Signed,

Totally Haven't Washed My Hair For A Week

P.S. But you wouldn't know.

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Dear Big Dangly Earrings:

Thank you for distracting people from my greasy hair that hasn't been washed for a week.

Signed,

At Least My Ears Are Hot

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Dear Potty Training:

Isn't there a pill she could take for this?

Signed,

This Is Totally Disgusting

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Dear Nutella:

You were an indulgence when I was pregnant. Now you're just an illness.

Signed,

I'd Probably Eat Cardboard If It Had A Healthy Layer Of Nutella Spread On It

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Dear World:

I'd recommend just not talking to me before I take a swig of my morning Diet DP.

Signed,

I'll Probably Bite Your Head Off

P.S. At least I'm honest.

apologies

Boo:

I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I doubted you when you said you needed to use the big girl potty at the store. You were in a diaper, and I was worried the ticking bomb that is your sister's hunger meter was about to go off, so I didn't worry too much about it. When I told you we were on our way home and asked if you could hold it, you said you could. Even then I didn't really believe you. But I was wrong. You were dry when we got home and used the potty just like you said you needed to.

I think sometimes you're more grown up than I give you credit for. Thank you, my sweet girl, for being my grown up baby. And thank you for being patient with a mom who's using you as the trial run. Unfortunately, as the first child, you're kind of stuck with that. But I'm learning, and I'm so grateful I have you. You make me believe in myself. Even more, I believe in you.

I love you sweet girl.

Love,

Mommy

Lou:

This morning was a busy morning. We had to hurry and get out of the house so I could get my blood drawn, and so I multi-tasked like crazy on you. While I was quickly putting my face on, I put you in your swing. And although you were happy for a while, happy turned to sad. I was almost done and knew you weren't hungry or hurt, so I let you cry. And my heart cracked in a hundred pieces while you did. When I picked you up, you buried your face in my chest, curled up in a ball like you always do, and whimpered into my shoulder. You just wanted Mommy. My heart broke into a hundred more pieces. And I'm sorry I ignored you.

Unfortunately, as the second child, you have had to cry more than your sister did. I have to be more now - to you, to Annabelle, to our family - and so I have to let you swing sometimes. Please know that if I had my way, I'd hold you close all day. Because one day you won't fit in that snug little ball on my chest. And I'll miss it so much.

Anyhow, I'm sorry sweet baby. Please know that although I let you cry, I didn't stop listening. I'll always be there, and I'll always love you, even when I can't snuggle you.

Love,

Mommy

the fairy tale

Belle with her baby in a wrap. (She wanted my Moby Wrap, but it was a little too big.)

So I've been thinking about a comment left on one of my posts by a former co-worker. And I hope she doesn't mind that I quote it in part. She mentioned that she's due (with her first) in October and thanked me for my refreshing take on the reality of parenthood, "not just the fairy tale." I can't stop thinking about the comment really. Because I want her to know something:

This reality is my fairy tale. Even the exhausting, spit-up covered moments. Yesterday, I got peed, pooed, and projectile vomited on. By the time Jess got home, I reeked like sour milk and my eyelashes were glued together by sweat. But it's what I dreamed of for so long, and there is nothing I'd rather be doing. I love my babies more than anything. I love my days with them, even when I can barely prop my eyelids open, even when I'm covered in one or both of their bodily fluids. I turned thirty today. The big three oh. And the only thing I see sad about turning thirty is that I spent so much of those years without my girls (and my husband, who also happens to be that best friend you just can't live without). They are so precious, and I feel so blessed to be a part of their lives. I'm the lucky one.

Lou Lou and tummy time.

I think it's natural to expect or want something dreamy when you're pregnant. But the reality is it's usually pretty hard, even when you have really nice babies. Because suddenly your heart leaves you. And it starts walking around in a tiny potty training body. Or you'll see it in an even tinier infant body that depends on you for everything. And while it is most definitely difficult, it's also incredibly beautiful. I've never been more fulfilled than I am now. My joy has never been more full than it is when I see my babies succeed at something, when tiny infant eyes lock with mine, when I can bury my face in the smell of new baby or in a head full of never ending curls. My point is, if you allow it to be, it is a fairy tale. It's one that I never want to end really. (And the reason why I pretend that my sweet babies will never grow beyond four years old and often consider homeschooling as a not socially-backward option.)

the daily lou

So for a good share of Annabelle's first year, we lived on the other side of the country. And she had relatives galore who missed her mug. Well, I'm assuming they did. Because I sure love her guts. Anyhow, to share some of her with them, I started The Daily Annabelle. I posted a photo every day for the first year of Annabelle's life. And what started as a nice thing for family turned out to be the best method of milestone tracking for me. (Because I didn't keep track of them otherwise. I know. I'm awesome like that.) For Christmas I took the best of the 365 photos and made books for the grandparents (and one for us). So essentially, The Daily Annabelle also became her baby book.

Of course, now we live pretty close to most of our family. My mom and two out of three sisters are four hours away, and Jess' family is four minutes away. But because I loved The Daily Annabelle so much, I decided I'd start a blog for Lydia as well. It will keep my mom's grandbaby appetite satiated, and perhaps more importantly, it will keep me taking photos of Lou. It's much harder to keep the shutter snapping with the second baby, but with this blog in mind, I've done a pretty good job. And because I'm more than a little obsessed with my girls, I love having a place that I can just scroll and stare at will.

And so, I give you The Daily Lou. Because she usually gets called Lou. In fact, I think she was sort of meant to be a Lou more than she was a Lydia. Anyhow, I give you The Daily Lou. It's a private blog (you can also access it by clicking the little box over there on the right), and while I've sent out invites to anyone I could find in my Gmail address book who I thought might be interested (and it's okay if you're not!), if there is anyone who'd like one, please email me at thedailylou@gmail.com and I'll get you signed up for a daily dose of cuteness.

P.S. I apologize for duplicates on The Daily Lou and this blog. While I will post some of the same photos on the regular blog, I promise that The Daily Lou will also have new and never before seen mugshots of the Lou Lou, especially going forward. You know, exclusive access and all that.

P.P.S. I should also apologize for the gratuitous gushing that will occur. I figger that's what a blog dedicated to a baby should be about. So gush I will. All over the dang place.

P.P.P.S. Don't be shy: thedailylou@gmail.com. I really am totally cool with you checking my baby out. As long as I know who you are. (So introduce yourself if I don't.)

the face that launched a thousand giggles

So have I mentioned this girl's faces?

If I could, I'd stare at this silly little face all day.
I mean, who needs clean bathrooms or laundry anyhow?

Man, I love this face.

the toddler these days

Our little mommy. She's constantly dressing her babies and changing their clothes. She stuffs them all in her baby carrier (she has a mini one) and carts them around. She bounces them and rocks them and tells them, "Good burp!" or "Ohhhh, it's okay. Shhhhh. It's okay." It's perfectly adorable. A little mommy in the making.

She still dresses herself. Above, she's sporting a lovely ensemble which includes blue leggings and a too small pink shirt. Her new sister's wardrobe isn't off limits either. I guess it's never too early to start sharing clothes?

When she gets bored, she's really good at finding things to do. Below, you'll see what I found when I got out of the shower the other day. At least she's creative...

And one more thing. We were in the middle of the store the other day, and I wasn't paying really great attention to Annabelle. I realized she was yelling something so I asked her what she said. She was happy to repeat even a few decibles louder: "SHOULD I FART? SHOULD I FART?"

And that, my friends, is why we keep toddlers around. For the laughs.

And the toilet paper towers.

one month

I've started and stopped this post several times. But I feel like everything I type is inadequate. Yet here I try again. 

I think the first weeks of a baby's life are so magical. Yes, they can be difficult too, but it doesn't matter if your baby cries all day or coos like a pigeon from morning til night - you will fall more and more in love every day. I remember being amazed the first time around, marveling at how much I really loved this little person. There was a part of me that doubted it would happen again. And to be honest, I feel like it happened differently this time around. But the fact of the matter is, I'm in love. I'm in love with every little thing about this girl.

I love her big, dark eyes, the way they seem to consume everything they see. In them I see so much wisdom, and I'm sure that she knows so much more than we give her credit for. I love her many facial expressions - there's the little smirk or the big gummy smiles in her sleep or the way she cracks just one eye open sometimes, as though she just wants to see what's going on while she snoozes. I love how excited she gets to eat, the way she literally goes cross-eyed with anticipation. And then there's the way she snorts with satisfaction when her belly is full. I love her long skinny body, how she's too long for the small clothes but too skinny for the big clothes. I love the peach fuzz on her head and the way it stands up after I lotion her up, as though perhaps it's trying to curl?

I just love my little Lou. It's so simple, but the words to really express this kind of love are so hard to find. Just like her sister before her, I suppose I will always be trying to put the words together to tell the world that I think I'm the luckiest mom in the world. But I suppose it really is quite simple: I'm in love.

timeline

11:00 p.m. Dropped into bed. I have vague memories of Jess telling me some insights from the investing book he was reading.

1:45 a.m. Got a wake up call from Little Lou. I snagged her out of bed and fed her. Bless her for eating quick and staying asleep.

3:00 a.m. Jumped out of bed when I heard a cough-barf from Little Lou. I ran into her room and helped her get it all out. Then stayed up rocking her on my chest (because it's where she instantly settles, almost always) while her nose cleared. Poor thing. (She rarely even burps, so this was weird.)

4:00 a.m. Annabelle screamed for "more nilk." I waited a few minutes to see if she'd let the idea go and go back to sleep. But when I remembered how little she ate that day, I trotted in with some milk for her. She drank it and went back to sleep.

6:00 a.m. Little Lou was ready to eat again. I changed her wet dipe and fed her.

7:30 a.m. Annabelle decided getting up an hour early sounded like a good idea. I let her whine for a while hoping she'd go back to sleep, but no dice. I got up a little grouchy, a lot tired.

8:00 a.m. While Lou Lou slept and Belle drank her morning milk, I downed a Diet Dr Pepper while reading this post. Which reminded me how lucky I am. And that indeed, I do mean something to these little people. And that even when it's practically every hour on the hour all night, I am often their world. And I resolved to treasure that knowledge. Because someday the world will mean more to them than it does now. Someday they'll grow up. But for now, they are my babies. And I love every little ounce of them.

*All photos by Aunt Don Don. Done totally impromptu, mind you. Cute beanies by Aunt Marissa. And pink blanket by Grandma.

rub a dub

I find it so amusing that all the trauma that baths cause right now...

...will eventually turn into this...

...although she doesn't seem to mind the afterbath part...

letters

Dear Mam Pacifiers:

Do you hear that? Yeah, me neither. It's the sound of NOT SCREAMING. And we have you to thank. The only way you could mean more to me is if you were dressed in a can of Diet Dr Pepper.

Signed,

I Just Got A Little Sanity Back

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Dear Diet Dr Pepper:

I think that the moms who say they don't drink caffeine in the first weeks of their babies' lives are fibbing. Because I find you absolutely necessary. Perhaps all those other moms missed that clause in the contract they signed at the hospital, that one that signs away all rights to sleep but does give you the Dr Pepper provision.

Signed,

Addicted

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Dear Tortilla Land tortillas:

Not only are you delicious, but you're made of just five ingredients instead of a litany of chemicals and preservatives found in the packaged, cooked kinds. Also, you're made with wheat flour. Will you marry me?

Signed,

Yes, I Eat Them Raw

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Dear Resolve to Not Eat Sugar:

Who was I kidding?

Signed,

Let's Be Realistic

gonna be alright

Yesterday when I asked Belle if she wanted to drink her pre-nap milk by herself (sometimes she likes to be independent) or if she wanted to snuggle with Mommy (usually she wants to "nuggle"), she said, "I want to lay by Lydia." (Her complete sentences crack me up.) I had to ask her to repeat herself a few times because although she has never once been mean or shown any malice to her sister, she's never wanted to share her coveted milk time with her. That time is generally Mommy time, sometimes Daddy or Grandma if either is around. But she was serious. She climbed up on the couch and snuggled next to her baby sister. And then my eyes got all weepy and my heart did that funny warm and fuzzy thing, and suddenly I knew...

...This is going to work.