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

+

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

+

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.

rock-a-bye

You forget how tiring a newborn is. Actually, I didn't really forget. I just forgot the depth of exhaustion. I think it has something to with the fact that this time around is more exhausting. In the first place, we have a toddler who likes to cry at night sometimes too (she's doing much better lately, however), plus I'm breast feeding. And no offense to you breast feeding fans, but it's exhausting and much more work than the formula route. I don't have to stumble around in the dark building a bottle, but on the other hand, I feel like this baby eats three times as much as Annabelle did. I don't think she's literally consuming more food, I just think that it's harder to fill up from a boob than a bottle. Plus, a bottle is measured and I can see what is going into my baby's belly, which makes it much easier on both mommy and baby. I'm not giving up breast feeding; I'm just saying that there are definitely pros to formula feeding. And I miss it.

Anyhow, the exhaustion. Boy howdy. We also have a new baby, a new model different than the first (although identical in appearance). We're constantly reminded of this, mostly in her yelps and screams. Where Annabelle was ridiculously (and abnormally) nice and quiet (and she started sleeping through the night - voluntarily - at two months, yeah, NOT NORMAL), this one likes to squeal. Adding to the problem is that her squeals are generally only quelched by mama. Boob or no boob, she just wants Mommy usually. Cue more exhaustion. But here's how I'm coping:

1. I cry a lot. Mostly just because I'm so tired and can't think of anything else to do.

2. I bought a Moby Wrap. If this kid needs to be snuggled all day, I'll just have to fake her out. That way I can have my arms too. Also, it's going to make grocery shopping and getting the groceries up the stairs so much easier.

3. I'm drinking a buttload of Diet Dr Pepper. I feel like in two weeks I've made up for the nine months of what I didn't drink while I was pregnant. I realize my consumption is a tad on the high side, but I. don't. care. This is me coping. And coping tastes goooood.

4. I rarely wash my hair. This cuts back on any getting ready time. A sharp contrast to the weeks before I was due when I washed and did my hair perfectly every single day, "just in case" I went into labor. Oh, vanity. As it turns out, it went exactly according to plan and all that hair doing was totally unnecessary.

5. I'm going back to the pregnancy "diet." (Plus DP as my abstaining from caffeine wasn't part of the diet, just a personal preference during pregnancy.)

When I was pregnant and miserable, switching to the boring diet made me feel infinitely better. It made my body stronger; I had more energy. And I think it gives me the ability to cope with my raging hormones - then pregnancy ones, now post partum ones - better. The fact of the matter is, I'm a little nutty after I give birth. And exhausted. Nutty plus exhausted equals certifiable. And I'm guessing that getting my body back to healthy will likely help in a huge way. I truly do feel horrible when I eat all that sugar and white flour. I love all that sugar and white flour, but for now, I've got to lay off. I'm hoping my ability to cope improves, and I'm really hoping that my energy is reserved for those late nights when one or the other of my babies needs a love.

This is Lydia. Because I bet it crossed at least one Grandma or Auntie's mind to question this baby's identity.

help wanted

So I mentioned that our Annabelle has had some adjusting to do to a new sister. But she's not alone. Of course it was to be expected, but all of us have experienced the adjustment to a new addition in one way or another. For me it's been exhausting. And not just physically, although it is that what with a newborn's sleeping habits plus a toddler's nighttime abandonment issues. It's been completely emotionally draining. I feel like I'm learning to be a mom all over again, and I wasn't a professional to begin with. I feel like a failure often, both because I can't give Lydia the attention I gave newborn Annabelle and because I can't give toddler Annabelle the attention she's used to having.

However, the adjustments have been made infinitely easier by the family we've had around to help, some of which made multiple trips between St. George and Salt Lake in the past few weeks just to make sure I didn't go bonkers. I'm so very very grateful for them, especially to my youngest sister who became an insta-nanny to Annabelle while we were in the hospital (and a dang good one at that) and to my mom. I feel like having my mom around when I have new babies is just par for the course, as though there isn't any other way. I mean who else would voluntarily stay up for hours at a time fighting tears with me while a newborn lays on a bilirubin bed? She's done it twice now. In fact, with Annabelle, when I had reached delirium, she laid on the hard wood floor and slept next to Annabelle with her hand on Belle's belly, to help her feel loved while that plexi glass bed fixed her sun tan. Add to that my pregnant sister who made the trip up alone for a forty-eight hour visit, just because she wanted to love on her nieces, and you've got one well taken care of little family.

They've made our adjustments to this new family so much easier, especially for Annabelle. I've been unbelievably grateful for extra arms to help her and distract her from the fact that her mommy isn't always available now. Plus, she's had almost 24 hour entertainment, something we're going to miss so much. And while there have been adjustments, each day gets better. Each day feels a little more normal as we all seem to settle into this new routine. Little Lou Lou has been a joy. It's so much fun watching her personality fill up that wrinkly skin. I love her little smirks and gummy smiles. I love her ridiculously huge eyes. I love that she's already a mama's girl (although it makes things difficult sometimes). I love that she's here. The changes aren't always easy, but the love for our new baby has been. She's just lovely, and we are so lucky.

story time

I am a huge fan of the public library system. And not only because it provides shelter for transients during inclement weather. (What? They do congregate there.)

I learned to read before I could properly socialize (before I went to school, although I really don't think I know how to properly socialize still), and books have always been a huge part of my life. Cue my post high school education and subsequent "career" (I think my current career suits me much better). While I understand the value of our new and tricky high tech gadgets that store hundreds of books on a thin slab of technology, I will always always prefer books. The kind you can hold. Covers. Pages full of words. I love the smell of them, the shuffling of pages. I love what they represent. All those words collected together to represent something.

And so libraries are something special to me. Thankfully, Annabelle loves the library too. We can't go to singing/reading time without stopping by her section to grab a few more books.The only complaint I have? I keep finding books we need. I have a growing list of books I need to buy because we love them so much. Here are a few we're loving right now:

who's who

So I'm constantly saying that I can't believe how much Lou looks like Annabelle when she was born. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm looking at the same baby. They really look like twins, just separated by two years (and two weeks). That said, while they may be twins in appearance, they are most definitely different in personality. I think it's fascinating to watch a miniature personality emerge, to watch Lou's little smirks and smiles, to try and read her expressions and her deep, dark, eyes that seem to stare right through me. And while my girls are similar in many ways - say, in their ability to eat, eat, eat - they are already very unique and different and each their own.

But in appearance...I'll let you try and decipher who is who. 

*The first picture in each set is Belle, the second Lydia.
And Lydia is way more orange, a by-product of breast feeding.
Yes, my boobs decided that hey! they'd work this time!
And apparently breast milk keeps the jaundice around longer than formula does. 

about that chocolate

Yeah, it's as bad as I thought it would be. I can't stop eating chocolate and treats. And the best part is, I feel like crap. I will straight up admit that eating sugar makes me feel like crud. It makes my system feel sluggish and slow. My teeth feel like they're rotting out of my mouth. The first sugar I ate - you know, that cupcake I ate like two minutes after giving birth - made me feel downright ill. Like stomachache sick. Like WWIII erupted in my stomach. Yes, I felt awful. But don't you worry, I just kept right on eating sugar so as to readjust to eating junky food.

It's a little ridiculous. But here's what I think the real secret is. And it's not really a secret. It's common sense. Moderation in all things. If I could just eat one cookie or a few pieces of chocolate a day, I'd be fine. But no. I have to eat everything in sight. Hand me a shovel because I've got to get it all in. And this isn't just because I abstained for over six months (six months!). It's what I did before this whole pregnancy debacle. I love me some sugar. Period.

What I've learned:

1. White flour and sugar make you feel gross. They suck your body of energy. Seriously. If you can exhibit the willpower, abstaining altogether will make you feel better and function on a healthier level. And if you eat either regularly, cutting them out of your diet will most likely lead to weight loss. If I can lose weight while pregnant (and not really working out), I'm pretty sure a normal person will shed pounds if they do the same.

2. If you can't abstain, moderation really should do the trick, especially when combined with an exercise program. (Is two weeks long enough? I'm totally ready to hop on the spin bike. But then I think about the bike seat....ouch.)

3. Indulgences are a vital part of life. I'm actually very grateful I can bake again. Going without that privilege for so long made me realize how important it really is in my life. Because some of my favorite childhood memories include cookie dough and cake batter. I'm so happy I can share the same memories with my girls, even if I have to dig deep and find the willpower to abstain once in a while.

But for now, I'm totally disregarding everything I've learned and consuming calories as fast as possible. 

what's in a name?

I've had a few people ask where Lydia Lou got her name. And while it would be fair to assume that I just really like alliteration (because I do), like Annabelle, Lydia's name has some meaning behind it. I personally love it when a middle name carries some sort of tradition or meaning behind it. And for both of our girls, while their first names are pretty random, their middle names come from cherished relatives. Here's how their names came to be.

Annabelle Charlene | When I was pregnant with Annabelle, Jess was pretty sure I was having a boy. Thus, dreaming up girl names wasn't high on his priority list. Still, I kept dreaming them up, and he kept nixing them. One day, very randomly, the name Annabelle popped into my head. This was just weeks before she was born, and thankfully, Jess liked it. He liked it a lot, actually, and so did I. Not only was it pretty and a little old fashioned, but she could also be Belle, close to the all too popular Bella, but not the same. (Bella has been my favorite name for years. Twilight has destroyed it for me, however.) Her middle name comes from Jess' grandma, Gladys Charlene. She also shares her middle name with Jess' Aunt Diana Charlene (Gladys' daughter), who passed away last year. The name is representative of a whole lot of love. Jess' grandma and aunt are are two of the most amazing women I know, full of wisdom, wit and humor. I love that she shares names with women to be admired and respected. When she just started saying big words, Grandma Charlene taught her her middle name. It was so beautiful to see how proud the elder was that a younger was being raised up. Oh, and it's actually pronounced with the "ch" (not a "sh). The original Charlene was named after her father, Charles. Thus the "ch."

Lydia Lou | Lydia's first name came about similar to Annabelle's. I had loved the name Charlotte for months but suddenly got sick of it. Jess and I tossed names back and forth for a while, each of us not liking what the other suggested. Then one night just before I fell asleep, the name Lydia popped into my head. I mentioned it and Jess said, "That could work..." And so we let that name simmer for a few weeks. I liked it more and more every day, and while I'm not sure that Jess was totally in love with it, he liked it enough. Her middle name is a special one. Jess' grandpa, Jesse Lewis Cheney, passed away this year (he's Charlene's husband). Because he's one of many Jesses, he went by Lew. If we had a boy, he would automatically carry the Jess name, and we were also considering giving a son the same middle name as well. But when Lew passed, I told myself that if we had a girl, I still wanted to pass on his name. And so we have our own Lou. We spelled it more feminine, but the name is for her great grandfather. He was a man of incredible strength, wisdom, and love. I hope somehow that by sharing his name, she'll become the same.

adjustment

She loves her baby sister. She really does. She loves to hold her and kiss her and pat her when she hiccups. She tells her, "You have a pretty little face!" and says things like, "What's wrong little girl?" or "I love her little hands!" She nuzzles up to her and murmurs, "I love you...I love her."  

We prepared her as well as we could for a new baby. She understood that one was in Mommy's tummy, that it would come out, that she would have a new brother or sister (she always insisted it was a sister). But she didn't know what was coming really, what having a sister really meant. The difference is chiefly seen at night, when she goes to bed. Instead of doing the fake cry accompanied not by tears but by random requests to prolong the bed time routine, there are real tears. Lonely, heart breaking tears. And so I go back to her room over and over again. We talk about how much we love her. We talk about how safe she is in her bed with blanky and her fifty three stuffed animals watching out for her. We sing her favorite song over and over again. Last night, she finally gave in and slept when I wasn't talking or singing. I was just there, watching her, letting her know I was there. She checked through heavy eyelids to make sure I was there a few times before finally giving into that kind of exhausted sleep that tears bring.

And as I left her room, my heart ached. My baby is being forced to grow up a little. I wish I could keep her tiny and small, a grown up baby of sorts. And I wish that only because I want to protect her. I'm just grateful that this growing up can happen where I can still hold her and hug her and make sure she's safe.

But the changes are there. They come in tiny rifts, little bumps in her day-to-day life of love and structure that she has to negotiate. As adults, we had nine months to prepare for this, to open up our hearts and make room. We knew that the changes would be thick and heavy, that instead of doing just a million things at once, we'd have to do a billion. We knew all about the late night feedings and the diapers. But Annabelle didn't know, and so now she grows up in tiny measures at a time.

What I hope she does know is my love for her hasn't changed. And if it has, it's only grown. My gratitude for a brave little girl so willing to love a new sister without question is unmeasurable. And I'm simply grateful for her, period. My first born. The one who truly changed my life in all the best ways. As always, I hope she senses that her place in my heart and my life will never go away. I hope that as she adjusts, she'll remember that her parents love her more than they have words to convey. And most of all I hope that our love for her will carry her through these next weeks as we find our new normal.