Drop it, girl!

And...the baby dropped.  Big time.  Look at this!

Please to ignore the stretch marks.

I'm very ready.  I promised myself I wouldn't get overly anxious this time, that I'd let the baby decide and try not to obsess over when labor will start, is labor starting?  how much longer until labor starts?  Turns out, it's not that easy.  I'm just over 38 weeks now, pretty early for any baby to make an appearance.  I probably have another two weeks.  I can be patient.  I can.  Really.

But I don't want to be! :)  I want to hold this little girl, welcome her into our family.  Not be pregnant anymore.  Though, I know I should be relishing in every minute that I'm pregnant with this girl.  This could be my last pregnancy, our last child.  We could stop at two.  That is a decision we'll make down the road, but still. This could be it.  Every time I feel her sweet little feet, I rejoice.  Every instant she is a part of not just my soul, but of my body, is a miracle in itself.  I love being pregnant.  

I'm just ready.  Show me a pregnant woman not anxious to meet her baby at 38 weeks - I don't think they exist.  All part and parcel of the amazing journey of creating a baby.  

I love you, Amalia Susan.  I am so honored to be your mama, and so grateful that you are growing healthily and perfectly inside my body.  I am so excited to meet you, to hold you, to cradle you, to kiss you.  We're ready whenever you are.  

So close I can taste it! yet so far away...

I spent much of last night awake, feeling my rock-hard belly as it had yet another contraction, lasting most of the night.  I tried not to be excited, to go to sleep, remind myself that this was probably not it, that baby probably still has a while to go.  I couldn't help it.  Each tightening made me smile, and as they started to hurt, I felt butterflies in my stomach.  And then...morning.  Gah.  Not only am I not in labor, but now I'm tired.  Ah, well.  It is still far too early to be optimistic (I'll be 38 weeks on Friday), but I can't help thinking that it is going to be soon.  Relatively soon, anyway.  Within three weeks or so.
So, I'm spending this morning trying to decide what to put into a hospital bag.  A going home outfit?  For me?  I just don't have enough clothes to put something in a bag that I won't see for awhile.  Toiletries?  I need my contacts and glasses every day until then.  Nursing bras?  Yeah, I'd better find some of those.  I hear Target is a good place.  So far, my bag has my slippers, socks, the one nursing/sleeping bra I could find from last time, the boppy pillow without a cover, and some sample shampoos.  I'm washing baby things to pack for the little one.  I have to dig out the car seat and wash the cover.  I did manage to find the Ergo and a diaper bag, both of which are currently in the washing machine.  I think I might be starting to feel that nesting instinct that people talk about, though instead of crazily cleaning, I am just panicking and walking around aimlessly.  Less productive.

Every morning, when she wakes up, and before she starts screaming for no apparent reason, Sofia cradles my belly, gives it a kiss, and says, "Good morning, Amalia."  C'mon, sweetie.  We are all so ready to meet you, even though we may not be actually ready.  Must go put in another load of laundry and find the bassinet.

Photobooth

So, we got a new computer this week.  Sofia and I have been having fun playing with a silly photo program.  Enjoy!

36 Weeks

I can't believe we are almost at the end.  This little girl has grown so much, and firmly implanted her soul into our little family.  Some days it seems that we just found out she was coming a few days ago; other days it seems that I have been pregnant forever and that she's never going to be born.
Yesterday was the latter kind of day.  It has been hot.  Very hot.  And humid.  Very humid.  We're talking real temperatures up to 100 degrees with 80% humidity.  Sadly, I'm not exaggerating.  Yesterday wasn't quite that hot, but it did reach 90 and the humidity topped off at about 77%.  Not comfortable, especially when pregnant.  I can't really bend over, I'm getting a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions, and I'm hormonally cranky.  I apologized to Sofia many times yesterday for being so crabby, but I couldn't seem to shake it.  I couldn't get myself to do anything.  Literally, anything.  I didn't do dishes, I didn't start laundry.  I didn't do homework, I didn't vacuum.  I did do the chores, but only because I had to and Julio was at work.  I didn't even cook.  We had Sunday night popcorn on Saturday, because that was ambitious as I could get myself.  The baby felt like she weighed a million pounds.  It was one of those days.
Today dawned a tad less humid, a tad less hot, and a lot kinder on my moods.  My belly feels lighter, as does my head.  I actually laughed today.  Today I feel that another six weeks of being pregnant won't kill me, and if this baby does decide to go over her due date it won't be the worst thing.  Because really, who wants to cuddle a newborn in this heat in a house with no air conditioning?  Tomorrow, of course, I'll be wishing on my lucky stars that she'll be one of those amazing babies that comes at 37 weeks in a labor that only lasts a few hours.
I'm not sure what it is, but this baby really likes my right side.  Funnily enough, so did Sofia.  Today, I felt the baby mostly on the left side, and it kind of weirded me out.  What is she doing over there?  :)  I feel hiccups at least once a day; the other day, we even got to see the hiccups.  She's no longer kicking so much as rolling and repositioning.  When she does kick, however, it isn't aimed toward the outside.  It is aimed toward my bladder and other vital organs on the inside.  Good news, that probably means she isn't posterior, right?
Sofia is going to be an incredible big sister.  She gives the baby belly hugs and kisses, and tells me how I am going to have two girls, and they'll both always be my babies.  She wanted to get on my lap, and I told her that soon, after the baby is born, she can cuddle on my lap again.  "But Mommy, the baby will have to nurse!"  I reassured her that the baby will not be nursing ALL the time, and that Daddy can hold the baby and I can hold her sometimes.  "Okay.  But then the baby will need to nurse again, and you can hold the baby and Daddy can hold me."
She can crack me up.  There is a memory-type game featuring the characters of the Arthur book series that she loves, and is forever trying to get people to play with her.  One day, Sarah was in the livingroom, and sad-sounding classical music was on the radio.  "Sarah, why are you sad?"  Sarah told her she wasn't sad.  "Oh, but the music is sad.  I know what will cheer you up; we should play the Arthur game!"  Little manipulator.
We had a baby shower the other day - the women at Julio's work got together to throw him a surprise baby shower.  It was the sweetest thing.  There was a potluck lunch with all the residents, and everyone was incredibly generous and loving.  We got a bunch of really great gifts, including a baby comforter made by the residents.  I absolutely love it.  Sofia was enthralled by the whole thing, oohing and ahhing over every present.  She was so proud to help Daddy open them, and genuinely excited about each tiny baby thing.  She even received a present; bubbles and some great bubble blowers and sidewalk chalk!  Julio often tries to bring her to visit the residents, but she is so shy, she mostly hides her head on Daddy's shoulder or behind my legs.  Friday, however, she warmed up after 20 minutes or so, and showed them all her great personality.
We went to Hartman Creek State Park beach afterwards, where we played in the water, which felt great on my heavy belly.  Sofia was very excited to use her new bubbles.  She also discovered that her life jacket will hold her upright in the water, and loved swimming by herself.  I hope it helps her gain more confidence in the water.
So, little lady, this whole family is so ready to meet you.  I can't believe you are almost here, and that soon, I'll be kissing your head, holding you close, and loving you completely.  I can't wait.

Seriously Braxton? Give it a rest!

I'm not sure I ever had a Braxton Hicks contraction while pregnant with Sofia.  Perhaps at the very end while on my daily 3-mile walks in 90 degree heat; then I had a few that lasted the whole walk.  This time around, however?  Braxton Hicks Central.
I'm not quite 31 weeks, and I feel like I'm getting these tightenings all day every day.  Every single time I woke up last night (which was at least five, welcome to pregnancy bladder, and nightmares for a three-year-old) my belly was rock hard and even hurting.  They say to call the doctor if you are having more than three an hour, but truthfully, I haven't timed anything.  Pretty sure I'm not in preterm labor or anything, but I hope all this 'practice' leads to a faster labor than the last time.

I think we have also chosen a name.  Well, a first name, at least, which is the most important.  I'm so excited, though it feels strange to call her by a name now, and not constantly wonder what we should name her.  On the plus side, though, perhaps I can focus some energy of SOMETHING ELSE.  Seriously.  All my mental energy lately has been captured by the baby.  And the baby's name.  And wondering what the baby will be like.  And calculating just how many more days 10 weeks is.  And contemplating the likelihood of remaining pregnant until September.   Let me tell you, the house and school is suffering because of it.  Why can't I get that nesting instinct I've heard so much about?

29 Weeks

I am a terrible blogger.  However, as I haven't made any other sort of pregnancy journal this time around, and as I am sitting at the computer procrastinating the paper I have to write for class, what better thing to do than remember that I have a blog.
Little Chickadee, or Gomerina, as Grandpa has now christened her, is doing wonderfully.  She is such a delicate little baby, that though she moves often, she doesn't kick very strongly, which worries me.  The belly is definitely growing, however, and when I try to count kicks, I always get enough, so I'm trying not to be concerned.  She's just kind to her mother, that's all, and perhaps the inner-womb calmness will translate to out-or-womb calmness as well.
We spend a lot of time these days (or I should say I do, as it isn't Julio's favorite activity) trying to figure out her name.  Sofia likes to do this with me, and her suggestions range from wonderful to no-way-in-hell.  Lily is her favorite, but as Daddy has nixed that idea, we have to convince her that it will not be her sister's name.  We have  a list.  A short list that doesn't contain any names I am crazy about, but it is a list.  We have 11 weeks left.  We'll get there, right?
I've visited several rummage sales this spring/summer, and have found some new baby things, including the things we borrowed last time from Gavins who are now expecting their own new little guy this month. Chickadee will have her own room, as Aunt Sarah has signed a lease for an apartment in Chicago with a friend to start in August.  I'm so excited for her!  And glad to know I have a place to put the crib.
Both Sofia and Daddy have gotten to feel the baby kick against their hands, which delights them both.  Sofia loves to kiss her baby sister, and thinks that the baby is kissing her back.  I hope this complete, unadultered love continues to when that baby is more reality than fantasy.  For now, she tells me how much she loves her baby, what a great big sister she'll be, how she'll read her stories and share her toys and tickle her toes.  It's really sweet.  She says she's so lucky to have the baby as her baby sister.  I know the baby is lucky to have Sofia as her big sister, too.
When I was pregnant with Sofia, she seemed like such a reality.  I could picture the new baby and our family together.  This baby seems more fantasy to me.  I know she's there and she's growing, and every day gets closer to when she'll actually be here, but it just doesn't seem real.  Like she's still just a flicker of my imagination or a hope in my heart.  I can't picture our life with her yet, but can't imagine a future without her, either.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that she doesn't have a name yet.  Carrying a second baby really is so different from the first, even though the pregnancies themselves haven't been all that different.  Life is different, her place in our family is different.
I've been getting so tired lately, and headaches more often.  I try to get the same amount of work done as I did before, but I just can't seem to.  My body falls asleep and my belly feels tight.  Sleeping is getting difficult, as my hips get so sore and my arms fall asleep and I have to get up to pee so many times.
Sofia just woke up from her nap, and we promised a trip to a playground on this beautiful day.  Gotta run.

It's a...

 Look at that ickle little profile!  I want to smother that little nose with smooches!

Sofia got into the spirit with a paint brush and lots of enthusiasm.  It's a little girl!  Second girls are the best.  Really.  And not just because I am a second daughter, no, not at all.

Sofia has been certain for as long as she's known about the impending sibling that she was having a baby sister.  So insistent, actually, that we have been working really hard on convincing her that it could be a baby brother, and that would be wonderful, too.  Perhaps, we sold it a little too hard.  When we found out for certain it was a girl, she looked at me and said, "But I thought we were having a boy baby like Johanna and Missy."
We're all very excited to meet this little one.  She looks great; all her parts and pieces seem to be in order, with a strong heart, kidneys, stomach, diaphragm (they actually commented on how beautiful her diaphragm is), umbilical cord, and whatever else they measure.  I've been convinced that our due date of August 19 is actually a week early, but Baby Girl is measuring on target for that due date.  Maybe I'll end up with an August baby after all; I've been preparing to last until September.  Gosh, I hope not.  After seeing that precious little being sucking her fingers, and moving all around, I just want to hold her tight.  We even got to see a little bitty ear!
She's absolutely perfect.  We're absolutely blessed.

I Get it Now. Sorry, Mom.

I am a second child.  Not only am I a second child, I am a middle child.  A poor, neglected middle child.  My whole life, I wanted to be sure that I filled out the second baby's baby book.  Took just as many pictures.  Did everything as close to the same as I did with the first one.  I'm not yet 20 weeks pregnant with my second, and am already failing in my quest.  I don't even own a pregnancy book, yet with Sofia, I had each page filled out to the minute.  I haven't taken a single belly picture yet.  Now, for a normal pregnant woman, this would be no big deal.  For me, however?  I took a belly picture nearly every week starting at 12 weeks with Sofia.  When pregnant with Sofia, I practically had the crib set up by 20 weeks.  I don't even know if we have a place to put a crib with this baby, and have bought nothing save a cute Christmas outfit I found on clearance back in January.  We sort of, maybe, kind of, have a possible list of maybe-names, but definitely have not even come close to deciding first or middle name yet.  For boy or girl.  I don't sing to this baby like I did to Sofia (i know, sick.  I was that pregnant person), don't talk to it as much as I did to Sofia.  I do read and sing to Baby's big sister, so he/she sort of gets the benefit, right?
Not that we aren't as excited as we were with Sofia.  We're thrilled.  Every little kick is like a celebration, and watching my belly get bigger gives us all such a thrill.  We find out in one week if Chickadee is a boy or a girl,  get to see his/her face looking like an actual baby and not a blob.  I am so blessed and honored to be able to do this again, to be mom to another amazing human being.  It's just that, we've done this before.  Everything isn't new.  We tried for so long and so hard to get pregnant with a baby that stuck, and it felt like every new thing with that pregnancy was a prize that I never thought I'd be able to experience.  This time, knock on wood, it just worked.  We didn't have any losses between Sofia and Chickadee (thank goodness).  Life keeps moving quickly, with a preschooler taking energy, the farm, school, work, sometimes that baby just gets forgotten.  Then, I'll feel a little wiggle in my belly, and get a huge grin remembering the miracle that is inside me right now.
So, Mom, I get it.  Second babies, just like you've always said, are just as loved as their siblings, it is just harder to do all the tangible things that show it.  I swear, though, I am going to take as many pictures of this baby.  I am.  I am going to read stories to just my little one, going to give him/her the time alone with just Mom.  Somehow, some way.  Chickadee needs it, and so do I.

Gaining weeks

Well, our wee chickadee has been very busy!  After the last ultrasound, I expected it to measure just past 8 weeks.  Well, the tech surprised us, measuring it at 9.  Then, I got a call from the doctor, saying it actually measured 9 weeks 5 days, moving our due date up to August 19!  That was a week and a half ago, so we are now 11 weeks along, and looking forward to an actual OB visit!  I have an intake appointment on Tuesday, and will beg for a quick doppler listen.  Hearing that amazing flutter will help me immensely.

Along with my elation, I am terrified.  We willingly are creating another human being?  To be responsible for?  What were we thinking?  It's hard to imagine how Chickadee will affect our family dynamic, how Sofia will react, if I'll be able to find the time to give them both the attention they deserve.  I know people do it every day, but that doesn't make me any less nervous.  As a second child myself, I really want to make sure that this little one gets the same love and devotion Sofia did (and does).  I want to make sure to take just as many pictures, write down just as many details, remember just as many dates, actually fill out a second baby book.  I'm so excited for our family, but so anxious at the same time.

She Makes me Smile

Just a quick entry so that I remember this moment...

Sofia has on a pink, sparkly tutu on top of her pink cargo pants, and a green owl shirt.  Tucked inside the top of the tutu is a cloth Dora doll.  Sofia is jumping around the living room, and I just heard her say, "the mama kangaroo is Sofia, and the baby kangaroo is Dora."

Man, she makes me smile.

9 weeks

We are proudly in posession of a grainy black and white photo of what could convincingly be made out to be the Loch Ness Monster, or Big Foot, or perhaps that other sock that is always missing.  But rest assured, it is the nine week ultrasound of our beautiful baby, and let me tell you, it is perfect.  And not at all monster-like.

In order to get a more accurate due date, and because my doctor is nice to me, we had another ultrasound today, to measure that baby again, and make sure it is growing appropriately.  This little guy or girl has been busy; before, we couldn't quite differentiate the body that housed the beautiful flicker from the lining of the gestational sac, but now, the perfect flicker is directly in the center of the sac with a nine-week baby surrounding it.  The ultrasound isn't all that sensitive, and viewing it live, we could hardly tell north from south, but we saw a perfect heart, beating at 175 beats per minute.  I've been having a tiny bit of spotting, and we pinpointed the source of the blood; a tiny subchorionic bleed, which the tech reassures me is quite normal and not at all harmful.  I will, of course, have to consult Dr. Google before letting my anxieties lie, but I'm not all that concerned.

I still can't believe it is there.

Since Julio was so excited when we first found out, he spilled the beans to Sofia that very morning.  She was certain that when we got home today, they would have taken the baby out, and she could hold her baby sister.  Sofia will officially think that pregnancy lasts an eternity.  We are also going to have to have a good, long conversation with her if we find out at 20 weeks that this child is a boy.  She is certain, CERTAIN, I tell you, that she will have a baby sister.  She might be right.  We tend to make girls in this family.

Anyway, I promise I will blog more often, and perhaps about more things than all-pregnancy-all-the-time, but for today, that's all I can think about.

A New Beginning

We haven't offically shared the news yet, and probably won't for awhile, but I'm pretty sure the only people who still check this blog already know (hi Johanna and Missy!), and I want to keep a journal for myself.
We are expecting a baby!  I got a positive pregnancy test on Wednesday, December 15, but didn't tell anybody, not even Julio.  It was several days before I expected my period, and I just didn't believe it.  On Friday, I took another test, this one a dark positive.   I crawled back in bed to tell Julio, and just beamed about my news.  Because of all the miscarriages, and because we supplemented progesterone with Sofia, my new doctor had me come in for a progesterone test.  Sofia and I trudged in on a snowy Saturday, and had my blood drawn at the inpatient lab.  The tech was so friendly, and gave Sofia three (!) princess stickers.  She thought she won the lottery.  On Monday morning, I got a call from my doctor, that the progeterone level was low.  Not dangerously low, but lower than they like to see.  Normal varies from 9-47 in the first trimester, though they like to see it above 20, and my level was 9.7.  Not terrible for just 4 weeks, but not great either.  I was prescribed an oral progesterone pill, and have been taking it twice a day. We scheduled an ultrasound for January 3, which seemed years away.   I had myself convinced that things could not be okay, that I wouldn't get so lucky again to have a healthy pregnancy.
Today, this morning, we saw another beautiful flicker, the best kind of flicker there is.  Hard to see the actual baby, but the heart was beating at 131 beats per minute, with a gestational sac and yolk sac the correct size.  Nothing out of the ordinary!  Woo Hoo!
Nothing is for certain, though, and I'm still reserved.  Things could still go wrong.  But this was an important first step.  With a lot of luck, we could be welcoming a new little one at the end of August!  Yikes!

Giving Thanks

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  One of the best holidays of the year, in my opinion.  No pressure, not too much fuss, just food, family, and football.  A day set aside in the middle of the week during the yuckiest part of the weather year to celebrate the blessings in your life.  To celebrate family.  To remember loved ones lost.  To be together.  Just be.  I love having a holiday in between Halloween and Christmas, to hold off the Christmas music and center our thoughts on gratitude and the blessings we already have, before the onslaught of greed that can often become Christmas.  Thanksgiving helps us remember what is really important, and brings those memories into the Christmas season.
This Thanksgiving, and every day, I am thankful for my family.  I am blessed with a fantastic husband, who loves me, loves our daughter, and is a wonderful person.  I am thankful for my daughter, who brings me more joy each and every day.  I am thankful for my big sister, who though she lives far away, is always on the other end of the phone.  I am thankful for her daughter, my beautiful niece, who taught me what it is to be an auntie, and her little Jomando Dos, who thankfully, is healthy and perfect.  I'm thankful for my little sister, who adores my daughter and has the best sense of humor.  I'm thankful for my mom, whose cherry face and positive attitude affect my life daily.  I am thankful for my dad, for making me laugh, for always being there to pick me up, for just being there.
I'm thankful for Julio's family, a group of people with so much love we will never feel alone, no matter how far away we live.  I'm thankful for phones and the internet to keep us in touch, and for airplanes to bring us closer.  I love you all.
I'm thankful for incredible friends, whose company I never tire of, who make me laugh and lend me shoulders to lean on.  Bonus points that my best friends also happen to be Sofia's best friends.
This Thanksgiving, I remember Grandpa Ron, Grandma and Grandpa Lines, and Aunt Suey.  People who are part of me and I'll never stop loving.
Though there are always parts of life that I'd like to change, though we are always trying to move forward in our lives, it is always good to look back and remember the great stuff that is with you right now.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

Summertime

As each leaf falls and we edge closer to late fall than early fall, I am greeted each morning to, "Summertime!  Summertime!"
This confused me for several mornings, until I realized that a certain young lady thinks that summertime actually means 'morning time.'  I have no idea where she made the connection, but even as the weather cools, the trees lose their leaves and she is no longer allowed to wear sleeveless play dresses, I have yet to convince Sofia that summertime actually does not equal morning.
Usually, I am excited for summer's arrival, in this case, I wish I could delay it a bit.  She sure does get up early.

Pink

Though I have always loved dolls of all sorts, I am in no way a girly-girl.  Most days, I hardly put on anything nicer than yoga pants and a t-shirt, and it is a fancy occasion indeed when I wear make-up.  When I found out we were having a girl, I almost didn't to tell people until after she was born so that she wouldn't end up clothed in pure pink.  I wanted to be entirely gender neutral, empower my daughter to choose her own path, as well as allow my (hypothetical) son to choose his as well.
Newborn Sofia wore lots of colors.  Honest.  Mostly pink.  In varying shades.
Since she could first reach her arms out to choose a toy, Sofia has loved baby dolls.  She couldn't yet stand on her own two feet, but she was rocking and nursing and wrapping in a blanket her baby.
She also loves to play with trains, cars, and dinosaurs.
We live on a farm.  She's seen life from beginning to end, played in her share of dirt, planted, weeded and harvested a garden.
Yet, you can't change biology and social constructs that easily.  She received a pink tutu for her birthday after having to pry one off of her at a toy store.  She has visited Daddy at work, gone to the library, the bank, and the grocery store in that tutu.  She'd wear it to bed if we let her.  I can only coax her out of it if I have her Princess jammies in hand.
We went to the zoo the other day.  We had a great time.  We saw a lion roar, watched a giraffe run up close and personal, counted ducks and waved at a swimming river otter.  She found the camouflaged mountain lion, watched the snow monkeys and climbed on the jungle gym.  At the zoo gift shop on the way out, she found the toy she just had to have, and has been bringing it everywhere with her since.
Meet Sally the Sea Otter.

In technicolor.

The worst part is, I think she's kinda cute.

Three

Somehow, some way, my beautiful baby celebrated her third birthday.

I can hardly believe that the baby I cradled and nursed is now a preschool aged child, no longer a toddler, with a personality all her own.  She's THREE, people.  I mean, I have memories from when I was three.  I'd better watch what I say from now on.

Dear Sofia, 

You delight me.  It is such fun to watch you create stories with your dolls and toys, and make everything into a game.  You create elaborate rules to games that you invent, then expect us to know them all.  You adore painting and choose your colors quite carefully.  You get so excited about things that you literally jump up and down with joy, and cannot control the volume of your voice.  The joy and excitement just spills from your little body.  I love every minute of it.  

You frustrate me.  You have a whine that knows the exact way to get under my skin.   You have to be reminded, sometimes, to use your manners, and to ask without whining.  You pitch a fit when you don't get your own way, putting on a big show, with big, fat crocodile tears, and the most inventive fake cry I've ever heard, even though you know very well it won't get you your way.  

You fill my heart with love.  Your hugs are so tight, your kisses so precious.  You have the most beautiful smile that reaches all the way to your eyes, though you only use it when truly happy, which might be the best part of all (though it makes it difficult to get a picture of).  You are quite picky about who you show that love to and when, which, though disappointing sometimes for an aunt or grandparent, or even parent when a kiss is withheld, is actually a good thing.  I'll be grateful for it when you are sixteen.  

You continue to change and grow so much.  Things you loved last summer (the swing) scare you now.  You are very cautious about new things, new places, new people.  You hide behind my legs and pretend not to hear when a stranger (which may actually be a relative) says hello.  Sometimes, you will even tell them, "I'm a little shy."  Once you warm up, though, you are friends forever.  You create games with certain people, that you expect to be played the same way, over and over again.  Aunt Nancy has a tail, Tia Juli and Tia Jeli smell Stella's diaper, Aunt Sarah has a jungle under the afghan in her room, and you chase Grandpa.

You are so smart.  You know all your abc's, including the sound for each letter, and can tell us what letter nearly any word starts with.  You can count to twenty (and are starting to be able to do the twenties, too) in English and Spanish.  You know about camouflage and hibernation and metamorphosis.  You love to watch, observe and learn.  

You love to dress up, choosing to wear dresses nearly every day, and recently, your ballerina tutu that you got for your birthday.  Always.  You still prefer to be naked, however, and will strip down whenever we aren't looking.

You are a fantastic eater.  You love veggies and healthy foods.  Once, you had a brownie in your hand, and saw that I was processing broccoli.  You dropped the brownie, and begged me for a piece of raw broccoli.  Anytime, dear.  Though, I don't think the situation would be the same had you been eating ice cream.  Peppers, tomatoes, and olives are your favorites, though you love it all.  

You love playing with other kids.  Even though you are shy, painfully so, with adults, you are instantly friends with any child you meet.  In Venezuela, you hung tightly to Natasha and Nathalia, and loved playing with the cousins your age.  You love Jay and Ella, and are always looking for a playmate. I promise we'll get you into school soon.  You need other kids your own age.

You love Sesame Street and Dora.  You play out elaborate schemes of shows you've seen or books you've heard. Speaking of books, they are your favorite.  You would read stories all day if an adult would sit with you that long.  You love the Berenstain Bears, and have really gotten into any book by Mo Willems, including Knuffle Bunny.

You bring us so much joy, Sofia Carmen.  Thanks for a terrific three years.  Each day is precious, and I'm so honored to be your mama. Truly.  Even the days I want to send you to the moon.  

Love,

Mama

To Oz and back again

Somehow days, weeks, months continue to pass by, and before I even realized that the blossoms have all given way to leaves, those same leaves are beginning to turn crimson, yellow, orange and the summer is over.
During my absence, we trekked to Venezuela.  How wonderful to see, live and in person, all the people we love and miss so dearly on Julio's side of the family.  It is difficult, however.  Sofia doesn't know them.  The last time she saw them, she was seven months old.  She's different now.  She's not the gummy-smiled baby who loves any arms that are open to hug her.  She has opinions and expectations, and is more than a little shy.  Over all, everyone did well, most especially Sofia, who learned to love her relatives and surroundings, tried speaking the different language, and made many friends along the way.  I could see the hurt in Julio's eyes, though, when Sofia didn't want to love on someone she just met, even though that person loves her very much.
She still talks about the trip; the people she met, the places we went and things we did.  I'm working on uploading pictures to Shutterfly to create photo books to experience it over and over again.
There's nothing better than having a fantastic vacation, and nothing better than coming home to your very own bed.

A Brighter (Storm-filled) Day

Okay, so as I knew while writing my last entry, though could not fathom in my conscious thought, being put on the waiting list is not the end of the world.  There are other plans, other options, other paths my life my take.  I will go on.  It still hurt, but it is not the end of me.

My 15-year-old cousin was in a terrible car wreck, head-on highway speed, a week and a half ago.  Miraculously, all three occupants of the car are alive, and more miraculously, Lori is home and walking and talking.  She's got a long road ahead of her, but she is a living miracle.  She is a fantastic runner, and earned a varsity letter and attended state last year, her first in track.  She was looking forward to this year's cross country team with excitement.  She's now been told that she can't run for six months.  A small worry when you've just survived something everyone thought should have killed you, but disappointing just the same.  Instead of being upset, this amazing girl is planning to volunteer with the team, and go with them to meets to cheer them on.  A true team player, a person whose Plan with a capital p was torn to shreds, yet still sees life as a journey to be enjoyed.

I'm searching job sites, combing hospital openings, seeking out possible apprenticeships.  I've applied for several jobs and looked into other avenues to become a nurse.  I might be down, but I'm not out.  I'm too good for that.  Life is a journey meant to be enjoyed.

Wanted: A New Plan

Warning:  this entry is rated R due to offensive language.  Please avert eyes if that sort of thing offends you.

I've been waiting for June 30 for a long time, ever since my phone interview with the nursing school a month and a half ago.  The 30th came a day early over here, and...not good.  

I ran to the mailbox like I do every day lately, just to check.  Today, and envelope!  From UW-Oshkosh!  Yay!  Then, fuck.  This envelope is skinny.  That's not good.  Tear open to flap, skim the skimpy little letter with a desperate hope that this was just the first of two or something.  No such luck.  "Thank you so much for applying...the program is highly competitive, blah blah blabbity blah.  Waiting list." 

So that's that.  The fucking waiting list.  Accepted applicants have until July 9 to secure their spot.  After that, they might offer entry to someone on the waiting list.  Only, how many are on this sucky-ass waiting list?  How many usually get accepted after being on the waiting list?  Does being on the waiting list give me any sort of benefit for future attempts, or is basically a 'it's not you, it's me thing, where everybody knows that "waiting list"  is code for NOT FUCKING ACCEPTED, stop wasting your time and your hope.'

What now?  

This has been my Plan with a capital P.  This was going to save me and my family from poverty, give my life meaning, propel me forward.  I had a Plan.

Now I'm floundering again.  I'm almost 30 for crissake, and I still am applying to and getting rejected from jobs where the only requirement is 'high school graduate.'  

I spent a lot of time this afternoon feeling sorry for myself, and am currently drowning my sorrows in a glass of red wine.  Tomorrow, I have to start anew.  Apply for jobs.  Update the resume.  Search.

What do I do now?  What the fuck do I do now?

Brilliant

Today, Sofia and I created a masterpiece.  It is my mom's birthday tomorrow, and I thought it would be fun for Sofia to paint a terra cotta pot for her.  She loves to paint, Mom loves plants, perfect solution.
And it was.  The pot looks fabulous.  Sofia carefully chose just the right colors and painted a beautiful pot. It looks great.  We even put two little handprints, which Sofie thought was just the greatest.  And then we put a plant inside.   You know, the kind with dirt and water.  Water.
Now the pot is sticky.  It still looks great, but you can. not. touch. the. pot.  Turns out, the washable kids paint that is so great because it never stains her clothes, making clean-up a breeze also washes off pretty well after it's been dried.  On a terra cotta pot.  I think instead of making a present for Grandma, we created a mess.
Brilliant.

A sibling, someday

I know this may seem counterintuitive based on my recent complaining and complete lack of patience, but I am so ready to have another baby.

and I know.  I KNOW.  We aren't ready.  The timing isn't right.  I need to finish school first, and I'm excited for that part.  I just wish I didn't have to wait.

I see pictures of siblings, and I tear up inside.  I watch a kid Sofie's age love on their younger brother or sister, I hear stories of kids playing together, fighting together, growing up together and I feel like Sofia's missing out. I feel that I am missing out.  I am missing those souls that belong in our family that haven't yet arrived.

I'm afraid that not having a sibling, not having to share, having four adults dote on her at all times is making Sofia spoiled.  She's the ultimate only child.  Yet, is that a bad thing?  Two of my best friends are only children, and they are the most thoughtful, generous, loving, interesting, wonderful people I know.  They have both said that part of them at different points in their lives has wished that they'd had a brother or sister.  Who among us, though, hasn't at one point wondered what it would be like if we had less siblings?  Or no siblings?

I wonder about my future child often.  I think of names, I wonder how he or she will be different from Sofia.  Will they be similar in some ways? What characteristics will make the new baby unique?  I wonder about the age difference.  Will five or six years be too many?  Will Sofia and he/she be close?  Will they still be able to play together?

And I wonder, terrified, if there will be another baby. Will we have the same problems we had before?  Will we try and try and have our hearts ripped out over and over again, never to be blessed with another miracle?  That nagging miscarriage fear is always there.  Am I strong enough to lose three more babies?

My family is not complete, and I yearn for those souls yet to come.  I have to trust that they'll come when their time is right.

Worth it

and then, after a day when I felt like my daughter would hate me forever, she wraps her precious little arms around my neck, gives me a loud smooch, and says, "Mommy, you're my best friend."

and you are mine, Sofie.

Crabby Days

It's not been a very good few days around here.

I'm not sure which came first, but the effect is the same.  Sofia is crabby.  Whiney.  Negative.  Whiney.  Grouchy.  Whiney.  Sad.  Did I mention whiney?
I have zero patience.  Everything makes me crazy.  I yell.  I pout.  I try to keep from crying and count to ten.  I try to remember that she's two, that we're both fighting a cold, that this is completely normal.  And then I yell again.

I hate the mother I'm becoming, at least right now.  I can't seem to get anything done, and the things I am able to do, nothing goes right.  I hate when I lose my temper, when my patience is thin and I'm always just a step away from the end of my rope.

What of this will she remember?  I've always thought of myself as a good mom, a patient mom, a mom that doesn't yell, that thinks of fun things to do, that loves her child more than life itself and would never want to send her to the moon, even for the day.  But lately, when my first attempts at fixing the situation don't work, my next attempts are less than effective.  Getting frustrated is guaranteed not the perk my daughter out of her bad mood.

Being a stay-at-home mom is tough.  Having been both a work-outside the home mom and a stay at home mom, both present their own challenges.  When I worked full-time, being with Sofia was my respite, my me time.  I was over-joyed just to be with her, and to do the things that need doing at home.  Since I hadn't been with her all day, all I wanted to do was play toys, do fun things, and enjoy my girl.  It was incredibly difficult to leave each morning, especially the mornings when Sofia hadn't woken up yet.  I hated that I was missing her life, that she was growing up and I wasn't a part of most of her day-to-days.  It was so hard to get everything done that a mom needs to do at home, and remaining productive at work was difficult.  My heart and mind were elsewhere.

Now, I get to be home with my girl.  I see her almost every waking moment, and I do cherish it.  There is always lots to get done around the house and at the farm, and I'm never bored.  I love having the time with Sofia, and I know she likes having me around.  However, because I am  here all day, I sometimes miss the moments of playing and imagining because I'm busy with dishes or lambs or vacuuming or everything else that needs to get done.  Because I don't get a respite, my temper gets short.  My crabby days get multiplied because I don't have an outlet away from Sofia.

So, today I made more of an effort to do fun things together.  We created an on-line book, found Sesame Street coloring pages, and tried to do a craft together.  For about five minutes, it was great.  Then, the whining, crying, say-no-so-everything behavior started.  Again.  And I feel like a failure.

So, we'll count to ten, read stories, and just make it through today.  Perhaps tomorrow will be better.

Return of the Sun

Well, the sun has made its reappearance, and we couldn't be happier.  Julio and I snuck out with Sofia to the lake this morning, said hello to a family of geese and went down the slide more times than I can count.
We do have a little diva in the making, which I am trying so hard to nip in the bud.  She is constantly bossing everybody around.  Close the windows. I want Mommy to drive.  I don't want you to wear your glasses.  No, that's my mommy.
Life isn't all about you, little chick.  I know we've made it seem that way since the minute you were born, because we do love you more than life itself and would actually do anything for you and want to give you every single thing you want.  Really, we do.  Thing is, though, that not everybody else does.  People are going to tell you no.  You will be rejected, probably teased, and stepped on a little bit.  You are going to have rainy days when you wanted sun.  Things just don't always go your way.  And while I want you to fight for what is right and stand up for yourself, there are times you are just going to have to go with the flow.  And like the waterfall that you couldn't turn off because it was too loud, you cannot control where that flow flows.  Life's wild like that.  Unfortunately, it isn't all about you.

March and May

I think March and May definitely got confused this month.  While in March, we donned shorts, waded in lakes and counted our blessings in degrees, so far this May, rain gear and snow boots have been the attire.  The very day lambing began, so did the onslaught of cold, rain and wind.  And snow.  Baby lambs do not like cold, rain, and wind.  Or snow.
We're up to our eyeballs in cold baby lambs, and in our haste to protect them from the oncoming storm, we moved a momma and new baby that were bonded well in the field up into the barn, only to find the baby electrocuted by the fencer.  Lesson learned and fencer switched off, but too late.  I seriously gave the compusling baby CPR, and then cried.  Its poor mother has sat, unmoved by its little stiff body, in the rain.
But, today is a new day, though just as blustery.  Another mom had more babies than she can feed, and the poor, lamb-less mama is the proud adoptive mother of one of the other babies.
Last evening, Sofia spent five hours with Grandpa and me out in the fields, trying to sort out babies and mamas and bring everyone to dry and safety.  She was such a good girl, patient and quiet, calm and observant.  We had to assist several moms give birth, and she asked, calmly, "Did that lambie die?" Thankfully, that time, I got to respond that no, that lamb made it.  She's up and nursing on her mama.
We're hoping the weather dries up a bit, and adds a few ticks on the thermometer.  Life would be easier on us all.
I had the second interview for nursing school, and I feel like it went really well.  Now, I just wait.  I can't apply for financial aid until I am formally accepted, and they don't have to make their final decisions until June 30.  Meanwhile, I cross my fingers, make plans for the fall, and finish the one prerequisite I have left to complete.
And feed baby lambs.

Nursing School application continues

Interview number one.  Check.

Must have done okay, because I have interview number two tomorrow.  Am scared.  Am nervous.  How to talk without stumbling over umms and ahhs?

Must go prepare answers and compulsively read everything about this program to show that I am, indeed, truly ready.

Yikes.

Last year of twenty-something...

So, I turned 29. Twenty-nine.  2-9.  The last birthday that starts with twenty.

How?

Turns out, very happily.  Julio made me the most delicious chocolate cake I've even eaten in my life.  Seriously.  Like Sarah said, we can't even call it cake.  That would just make all the other cakes feel bad.  Also, to-die-for lamb chops on the grill.  I don't even want to think about all the calories I consumed on Saturday, only to remember that IT WAS WORTH IT.  We had a fantastic time playing Hoopla and just being together.  I am skipping into my thirtieth year, happy that I know my path and that I am where I belong.

In farm news, we have movement on the turkey front.  Not only did two hens lay an entire nest, they are both currently setting.  If all goes well, we should have poults in approximately 24 days!  We also have an incubator up and running for the turkey eggs we gathered before allowing the hens to build their nests.  We will put the eggs in tomorrow, and in 28 days, if we're lucky, we should have another batch of poults.  I'm so excited!  You should have seen how giddy I was the day I first found a turkey egg in their hut.  Seriously.

The trees are starting to blossom; the flower crab apple tree burst open its blooms this morning, while the cherry and apple trees are moving closer to full-on flowering.  A little early, but a beautiful sight to behold.

Eek!

I'm about to send in my application for nursing school.  I'm terrified.  I want so badly to be accepted, to begin the program, to become a nurse.  I know I'd be a great candidate, I just hope they know it, too.
Wish me luck!

A Promise of Spring

God, I love spring.  The very first tastes of sunshine and warm weather and more grass than snow on the ground.  Every day feels like a treasure that can't be wasted.  We've spent an entire winter either indoors or encumbered by winter jackets, mittens and hats, that any moment not spent soaking in the spring like sun in short sleeves is pure gold.  Never mind that the world is full of mud (hey, if you are two years old, a world made of mud is a treasure, too!) and the trees and grass are still brown, with only a few, brave sprigs daring to poke their green heads out of the ground.  Still, a treasure.  There are geese, ducks, and cranes making their presence known by their cacophonous voices and a few rare glimpses of their majesty.
The very first days of spring make the winter worth it.  Being able to fully appreciate the sun and weather that doesn't require covering your arms, to know what the world is like without cranes, geese, green grass and sunshine, can be a gift.  If only that gift didn't last so long.

Tom Pease

My two year old can boogie.  Boogie down.
We went with our dear friends to a kids' concert this weekend, a performer who I used to watch as a kid and adored.  I had a bunch of cassettes, and can still sing along and do all the motions.
Tom Pease is infectious.  By watching, you can just tell how much he loves kids (and grown-ups, too).  In turn, the kids love him, and I saw more than one grown-up bopping along, not just because their kid was watching, but because they were having fun!
Sofia loved every second.  She was the first kid to get up out of her seat and dance in the aisle.  She spun in circles, bopped up and down, sang along, and performed all the actions.
I'm currently looking up all the old albums on CD and more performance dates in our area.  This is fun that has to be had again.

PS.  Waisman Center, from the people in the middle section, fourth row back; we're sorry.  I'm sure the milk, squashed grapes and crunched crackers weren't all that fun to clean up.  We did our best.  Our kids sure had fun, though!

Future's so bright...

After weeks, months, years, of hem hawing around, not committing, never being sure, my future is getting a path.
I had an appointment with an advisor for the accelerated second degree nursing program at UW-Oshkosh, and it seems that all systems are go.  I'm super excited, and plan on submitting my application tomorrow.
I also have to call BirthWise, a birth center in Appleton.  They are offering a midwife apprenticeship, which is exactly what I'd like to do.  Weighing the two options is difficult.  Ultimately, my goal as a nurse is to be a midwife, or Nurse Practitioner in OB.  The apprenticeship route might get me there much faster.  I might also make me less employable.  There are relatively few places actually hiring midwives, especially ones without nursing degrees.  I plan to meet with the midwives to find out more specifics about the program, and weigh both options.
I have a plan!  I have a path!
In bigger news, Sofia has earned her BIG! PRESENT!  A blue boa with a bright red tongue and propensity to chase the nearest grown-up for a tickle.  Or bite, depending on its mood.
And she's still putting her number 1 and number 2 into the potty, which is a bonus.

March

Welcome, March!  The promise of spring, the beginning of green.  Even though the ground is still covered in snow, the bright sunshine and warm winds have me breathing a breath of fresh air.  The winter might yet end!
Things are plodding along over here, as I look into where my future should lead.  I have an appointment this week, and I hope to figure some things out.  I want this show on the road!
With all my free time, I am trying to catch up on my picture project.  I had left off December 2008, and when you take as many pictures as I do, there is a lot to wade through.  I can't believe how little Sofia was just over a year ago!  I've made it to May, and am on a mission to catch up.
Sofia has been into so much imaginary play lately; it is so fun to watch.  The newest joy is pretending to be a doctor and giving everyone check-ups.  She uses a ribbon as her stethoscope, though, and a pen to give shots, so I think a doctor kit is in her near future.  Perhaps as the 'big present' promised from the potty training extravaganza.  Although her grandpa has convinced her she wants a snake.  Thanks, Dad.
I feel so blessed for my incredible family and wonderful friends.  I am not a good communicator, and often go weeks without talking to those important to me.  I can be a hermit and hole up at home with just my family, and even with all that, I am enveloped by those who truly care.

How Appropriate

Sofia has been owning the potty.  She is able to tell us for both number one and number two, and the only accidents we've had lately came during naptime and timeout (cue the mommy-guilt on that one).  We're still rewarding every success (with m&m's - food as reward, I know...I know...), and she has decided that she gets "two of them" every time.  I oblige, every time, and every time (seriously EVERY TIME) she selects one yellow one and one brown one.  How fitting, love.  Number one and number two.  Perfect.

That Backbone of Mine

Remember my quest to grow a backbone?  Well, I'm making progress, but not exactly in the fashion I imagined.

I quit.  With no notice, nothing.  Just quit.  I had had enough.  More than enough, actually.

I don't want to get into too many details, since this is public, after all, but here I am, unemployed again.  I don't feel so lost this time, though.  There are a few directions I can go in, and some actual jobs that I qualify for.  I want to do Physician's Assistant school.  I will find a way, somehow.  Julio is more than supportive, and I love him for it.  Missy sent me flowers and a congratulations.  Everybody is happy for me.  I will be, too.

Now, I must wrest myself from the computer and go DO.  I have jobs to apply for, schools to research, and a house to clean.  My vacuum needs exercising.  I guess I do, too.

Just Keep Swimming

Life just keeps blowing past at tornado speed, and I'm just not sure how we got here.

Sofia is still plugging away at the true test of big-girl-ness, and doing very well.  She hasn't yet won her big present, but is managing to stay dry most of the time, and has, on occasion, remembered to put number two where it belongs.  Still working on that, but we are so proud of her!  She's pretty proud of herself, too.  Walk into our bathroom and see the jar of M&M's; you'll know we have a toddler in the house.

Speaking of the toddler, she really isn't much of a toddler anymore.  She's all big girl.  She talks in full sentences with correct grammar, with only some mistakes.  She still calls it "sesareet", macamoni and cheese, and doesn't quite understand the difference between he and she.  However, she can recognize most letters and numbers, and surprised me the other day by saying, "p, p, p, p, Polar starts with P!"  She counts in both languages (though fourteen is still her nemesis), and is really improving at putting together puzzles. She used to get so frustrated when she couldn't get it right the first time, but she really concentrates to figure it out now.  She has an imagination that doesn't quit.  I love her stories and silly games and watching her play with her stuffed animals and dolls in all sorts of ways.  She sleeps with a menagerie, complete with bear, puppy, pink blanket, deer, and 'sesareet' which includes each of Big Bird, Elmo, Abby, Cookie Monster, Grover, and Kermit.  She loves the toddler doll she got for Christmas, which she has dubbed Tigger.  She plays catch, and sometimes actually catches the ball!  She loves to run run run everywhere.  She's quite the kid.

Sarah, Sofia and I went to DC this past week during a snowstorm (seriously, they have more snow than we do-by a lot!) to meet baby Anika and spend time with Johanna.  My niece is so precious; we all adore her.  Sofia especially.  She held her and caressed her and talked to her and loved on her.  Truly heart-melting.

Life at the paper is...well...I'm looking into school.  I'm tired of the drama, tired of the poor management, tired of constantly being blamed.  She really thinks I should be able to do all the reporting in just a few hours, and should be able to finish the paper all by myself.  Mondays have been long lately (though not 2 or 3 am, which is wonderful), but she leaves almost two hours before I get to.  Then, if there is a mistake (which there invariably is because I've been there for 16 hours), I get blamed for it.  Completely frustrating.

School, however, remains an abstract.  There are waiting lists on waiting lists, and I am ineligible for financial aid for an ADN (associates degree in nursing) since I already have a bachelor's degree.  I'm considering Physician's Assistant school, but there doesn't appear to be a program within an hour and a half from home.

I'm just ready for spring.  Everything feels better when there is sunshine and green grass outside.  

Success?

Not about what you might think, but we may have a new development over here...potty training success!  Now, lest I proclaim "Mission Accomplished" while the troops are still in battle, it does appear that we are headed in that direction.  We made it all day with only one accident (the number two kind, of course), and potty success at every attempt.  Without tears!  Much better than my near-tearful confession yesterday morning as a wet-panted girl waltzes into the livingroom not two minutes after we came off the potty because "i can't do it!" that THIS. IS. NOT. GOING. WELL.  We should quit.  Bah.
Never mind that we are still in the bare-bottomed stage, which means she cannot miss that she is peeing, with no diaper or training panty to lessen the drench.  We may have a wrench thrown into our success as she goes back to daycare.  But!  We are committed!  And the most exciting part, Sofia is committed, too.  I thought it was a one-way street, but it appears that my big girl is officially putting on her big girl panties.  Pun intended, of course.

Mid-January Check-up

The month of January is half over, which is a good time for New Year's Resolution monitoring.
Number one resolution:  grow a backbone.  On this front, I'm succeeding, mostly.  Little by little, anyway.  I stood up for myself, and am continuing to stand up for myself at my current job.  That is good.  There is room for improvement, however.  I need to be able to keep that backbone, and transfer it to other situations.  Like moving forward, for instance.  I need to make two phone calls that I'm scared to make.  One to the technical college where I hope to enroll as soon as possible, and the other to the county to see if we can possibly keep our badgercare insurance, especially now that I am moving to part time and becoming a student.  Hopefully.  Goal:  By the middle of next week, have made both of those phone calls, with movement toward action.

Number two resolution:  the perpetual 'lose 30 pounds' resolution.  That one isn't going so well.  I have a sweet tooth that you wouldn't believe.  I crave fat, sugar, and all things bad for me.  I don't make time for exercise. 
I can do this.  I can take control of myself, control my cravings and get my butt in gear, literally.  I always feel better when I exercise, so why is it so hard to motivate to do?  It shouldn't be.
Goals for this week:  1)  Drink water all day.  That will help to curb my fake hunger.  Perhaps, when craving a snack-upon, drink a glass of water first.  2)  Just say no.  Recognize the cravings, then remember how much I'd like to lose this extra weight.  How I hate to look at pictures of myself.  How I want to not feel fat.  And, 3) Exercise each day.  Even if just a little.  10 minute walk here, 10 minutes of jumping on the trampoline there.  Just something. 
Humph.  Not half an hour later, and I'm eating at tootsie roll.  Boo.  But, I did get a glass of water.  Step one.  I'll enjoy this little morsel and move on.

The Simple Life

I like the simple life.  Being able to do dishes with my husband is the kind of luxury you miss when working a million hours a week, coupled with said husband working pm shifts. 
We got to do dishes together last night.  After eating together, watching football together, taking our Christmas tree down together, playing with our daughter together.  Normal, every day kind of stuff.  The kind of stuff that really gets missed when you don't take the time to do it.
It was a great evening.
I like the simple life.  I like to be able to do laundry and vacuum and cook and read a magazine in the morning and perhaps a book at night.  I like just sitting on the floor playing toys with my daughter.  I really like being home.
I've learned that about myself relatively recently.  Don't get me wrong, I love adventure and traveling and going out and doing something.  But I love to be home, doing simple, normal things. 
Part of this change is to allow me to have that time, to be the mom I want to be; a mom with time for the normal stuff.  I want my daughter to get sick of me, not to constantly miss me. 
I've got the number to call to start LPN classes.  I'm going to do it, today. 
We celebrated Kings' Day yesterday, the Parra tradition.  It didn't get to be all day, like it should be, since I worked until 3 pm.  The kings were lazy, apparently, because they didn't make it under our tree until after dinner time, but Sofia was thrilled nonetheless.  Los Reyes brought her stacks of books, which she actually seemed to like.  I was extremely proud, too, that when she saw a few presents under the tree, she passed them out to her daddy and me, and then asked if there was one for her.  Sharing.  What a gem.
We got the tree taken down, we ate our lasagna and lemon meringue pie, drank our hot chocolate with candy canes, and even uncorked a bottle of wine. 
We don't get as much family time, all of us together as we should.  It was much needed.

Another New Start

One year ago, we left the home we were building, jobless and hopeless, trying to find the optimism of the journey to come.  I was finally going to find my dream, to listen for my calling and fulfill my vocation.  And then life stepped in.  I began, got my CNA, and then a full-time job.  The prospect of having an actual paycheck was powerful, and I dropped the school ball.  Then, I started working at the newspaper, and truly enjoyed it, especially at first.  I wasn't making much money, but perhaps community news would be my calling.  I stopped thinking of school.
After a while, though, I figured out I was being used.  There really is no future here, not one that looks like my calling. I was getting angry, and losing time with my family.
The New Year came, and I found my nerve.  Told my boss and my friend how I was feeling. And I took a leap.
I start part-time as soon as our new employee can begin.  I'm losing a large portion of income, and am scared at how we are going to survive. The fear is outweighed by the prospect of continuing the dream I let slide by.
Maybe not.  I'm still scared.  I am looking forward, however, to actually getting in school, to actually listening to my calling, assuming I know what it is.
It begins now.  I am tired of each year passing, time going through my fingers.  I'm not getting older, I don't get these days back.  I'm about to turn 29 years old.  It's got to start now.
So, I'm dusting off my pencils, digging out my backpack.  Whee!

Day One

So, the very first day of the year, and resolution number one started.

And I'm scared shitless.

That's okay.  I told her.  I told her that I am being overworked, that I need more consideration, that I don't like the way she's treating me.

And got hung up on.  No, I'm not kidding.

And then dealt not with the boss, but with her husband.  Until two hours ago, when they both came over and we had a 'meeting'.  They had listened to my concerns, and had responses for them, though they still think I should be able to do it all and think I have time management problems.  Whatever.

I think I am going to be part time, reporter and layout only.  I am going to get back to what I meant to do a year ago; go back to school.  Hopefully, I'll take Julio with me.  I'm not sure how we'll swing it financially, but somehow we'll manage.

And just like that...2010

We have officially entered a new decade, and what better way to spend the very first day than...
sitting at work. 
Exhausted. 

I'm seriously questioning why, exactly, I am here.  Because you know I am here alone.  Yet, not allowed to go home. 
This should be my resolution for 2010.  Grow a backbone, woman.
Stop letting yourself get pushed around and used up. 
I am worked hard, too hard, with nary a thought for my well being.  I worked 9 and a half hours yesterday, only to be asked to take New Year's Eve pictures at night, and yes, please still be here by 8 am.  My big rebellion was to be here by 8:15 (oooh, the rascal I am) and compose strong, direct email messages that will never be sent to the person who needs to read them. 
I've got to talk to her.
I'm a simple person.  I like to be home, doing simple things like making dinner, doing laundry, playing train tracks and doll house and Sesame Street characters with my family.  I like to have time when it is light outside to go for a walk, take Sofia sledding, and just be fully present in my own life.
Right now, I'm working 50-60 hours a week, and I'm salaried, people.  SALARIED.  Which means, no over time.  And lest you be fooled that it is a good salary, let me assure you that hourly, I'm making less than $6.  And no benefits.
Yes, I know that this is a start-up newspaper.  Yes, I know that my boss is incredibly busy with her family and the new babies and everything.  Yet, she knew this was coming.  She knew she was having twins and starting a new business, and she purposefully did not hire someone to help out during her absence.  I don't see how this is my problem.  I'm being used.
I have tried to talk to her about this, about needing more help, less work, less hours.  I haven't been as direct or as strong-willed as I should be, however, and nothing is changing.
I need to grow a backbone.  Tell her how this is affecting me, and demand change.  I could earn more working 40 hours a week at Fleet Farm, and I bet they offer benefits. 
The thing is, I enjoy this work.  Just not all 60 hours of it.  I like getting into the community, taking pictures, talking to interesting people.  I like seeing the pages come together and having a product at the end to show what you've done, a product that people enjoy reading.  I don't want to work at Fleet Farm. 
Perhaps now is the time to look into school, for both my husband and myself.  Perhaps there is a better fit for me somewhere else.
Because I am tired.  Just like at my eyes.
So, welcome 2010.  This year, I resolve to be strong, stand up for my needs. 
Oh, yeah, and to lose 30 pounds.  This time, I mean it.

Farewell, 2009

Hard to believe we've completed an entire decade since I welcomed the year 2000 in my friend April's living room, wearing my very first (and not the last) pair of 200X themed glasses. 
We're about to enter the teens, yet I don't feel any different than I did at the beginning of the decade, when I was exiting my own teens. 
When we entered 2009, we were so glad to be rid of 2008.  2008 cut us deeply, and then poured lemon juice in the wounds.  We had no idea how we expected to heal or where 2009 would lead, but it just had to be better than 2008, it just had to.
And it was.
Don't get me wrong, this year definitely had its share of downs, plenty of tears and loss and heartache.  But 2009 also saw us pick ourselves off, dust off, and keep on swimming.
I like the idea of a new year.  A new chance, a blank slate, a starting over point.  No matter that the new year falls smack dab in the middle of winter, at no particular changing point in the actual year, just an arbitrary number change, but nonetheless, the idea appeals to me. 
Every year, I make resolutions.  Every year, I break resolutions.  I try to think of the me I'd like to be, and make conscious efforts and choices to achieve that me.  It rarely works.  But every once in a while, I make a change that sticks around, and that small success of many failures keeps me making new year resolutions.
Plus, it is tradition, and lord knows I'm a sucker for tradition.
So, I'll continue to make new years' resolutions, and do my darndest to stick to them.
We'll eat our 12 grapes, pop our bottle of champagne, and welcome in not only the new year, but the new decade.  We'll remember the blessings of 2009, and say goodbye to the parts we'd like to forget. 
Here's hoping for a glorious start of the new decade, and a happy 2010 for all.

Merry Christmas

I'm feeling grumpy, and I just don't know why.
We had a relatively fabulous Christmas, despite a quick trip to the ER (asthma attack for Julio, which responded to treatment and was really speedy, as ER trips go), two inches or rain that turned all our snow into slush, which has since frozen so we now live on a skating rink, and a disaster with the oyster stew, which curdled.
We had joy and presents, and wonder in the face of the small one.  She stayed awake, alert and excited until midnight on Christmas Eve, opening presents from family.  Sofia did beautifully at the Christmas Eve service at church, which could have been  a disaster.  I sing in the choir, so she and I were front and center.  Keeping a two-year-old occupied for an entire church service at the front of the church is, let's just say, interesting.  She did well, though, and tried to climb the banister, stared with intrigue at the real baby in the manger scene (until turning around and saying to me, "Baby Jesus scare me.")  She banged on her 'Little Drummer Boy' coffee can drum, and sat in her princess dress facing the crowd.  Afterwards. she ran around the sanctuary, and got her head stuck in the bars of the stair case to the pulpit.  "Mama, I stuck!"
Sofia, for one, actually enjoyed the oyster stew, despite its strangeness.
Julio had to work, but got home right after 10, and we had a great time as a family.  Sofia loved her presents from us, and has been carrying around her little doll (which she named Baby Tigger) since then.
Sarah got a Wii, and though it was very late, she and Julio and I stayed up playing for awhile.
Then I (ahem, Santa) filled stockings, put out candy, and put the presents under the upstairs tree, even though someone forgot to leave cookies.
We slept in, all of us, including Sofia.  She woke up smiling, and excited about the presents under the tree.
Mom and Dad left for DC to see their new grandbaby (I am so jealous; want to hold baby Anika!), and because of the weather and Julio's respiratory distress, we all stayed home and played Wii, read books, and played with all the new toys Santa brought.  Besides having to trudge through the slush to do chores, it was a great day.
I'm not sure why I'm so grumpy.  Perhaps because tomorrow is Monday, and I abhor Monday, more so now than ever, as it is usually a 16-20 hour work day.  Besides that, I'm not at all ready for Monday, which makes it worse.  I have to spend today trying to call people to do interviews (the weekend after Christmas.  Yes, I'm sure they will be thrilled to hear from me.)
Maybe it is because Christmas is over, and I didn't get to watch all the movies, listen to all the music, do all the traditions that I wanted to.
I'm not sure what it is, but I've got to get past it.

Fly, Fly, Little Wing

I tried to write about Suey on Friday, when I could barely do anything but cry.  I couldn't do it.  Yet, how can one ever really write about Suey? How can any words encapsulate her spirit?  Even though it isn't enough, isn't nearly enough, words are what we have now.  Suey left her body last Friday, December 11 at 2:30 in the afternoon.
Oh, how I love her.  She had the most incredible laugh, a deep one from the belly, that often ended in a snort.  The best kind of snort.  And the best part about her laugh, is how often you heard it.  She was always laughing.
She had a zest about her in every thing she did.  Even sitting around the house doing nothing would have a Suey twist.  She's make us sit outside in on a warm day, and put our chairs inside the kiddie pool to cool off (with a beer in a coozie, of course).  If her husband fell asleep in the living room, she'd paint his toenails sparkly blue, then wait for him to notice. 
Suey was welcoming.  To everyone.  Just as at home at the bowling alley or on a cruise ship, Suey made friends wherever she went.  She had that special way of making every single person feel loved and included and part of the group.  She took me into her home so many times, and always made me feel that she was the lucky one to have me there. 
She made a personalized baby blanket for every baby, and they were all beautiful and unique.  She helped me create baby blankets for my friends' babies, and I'll try to continue the tradition on my own, though they won't be the same without her special flair.
Suey was real.  She was always herself, and fully present in each moment. She loved herself, and she loved everyone around her. 
She leaves behind so many broken hearts, trying to navigate this world with her life force no longer a part of it.
Most of all, she leaves behind two daughters, my cousins, teenagers.  They need their mommy.  It breaks my heart, all the life Suey is missing, and all the moments Taylor-Ann and McKenna will never get to share with her.
Rest in Peace, Suey.  You are loved, and will be remembered always.

Suey

I love you, Suey.

God, how I'm going to miss you.

Revitalize

I'm still here. Going to try to revive this thing, lest it sit in Internet purgatory, freeze-framing our lives at the point of transition.
So, apparently, I forgot I had a blog. Look! Here it is! All neglected and dusty, depicting the life of a baby who is nearly ONE YEAR OLDER than she was then. Like, she doubled.
Sofia is two now. She's a riot.
She's my big girl. She started singing the alphabet right around her second birthday, and if there is anything cuter than the way she says w, x, y and z, I don't want to hear it, because my poor heart might really just puddle up on the floor.
She recognizes her letters. One day, we were in the basement on the computer with grandma and grandpa and aunt Sarah (yes, going to the computer room is a family event. isn't it at your house?), and she sat at the other computer, pointing to the letters on the keyboard, naming each one. Except that she said W for M, but really, who can blame her? What if the key was on backwards? That's totally a W, Mom.
She counts to 15 in English, and to 10 in Spanish. Not just the numbers, either. She actually counts objects. How many (fill in the blank), Sofia? 1, 2, 3, 4. There's Four, Mommy!
For a long time, she would count the objects, and then add one. She'd count to four, and then say, There's Five! She caught on now.
She can jump. She's been working on that one for awhile, now, and would be so cute, gearing her little legs up and spring off the floor, then not actually leave the floor. WIth practice, however, both feet are now air born at the same time.
She loves to run. Run everywhere. If she's not running, she's obstinately not moving. She loves to kick, too. I took her to a high school soccer game this fall, and she really thought she was going to get to play, not just watch.
She loves music. She can sing along, the words and everything, to that fabulous hit, by Big Bird, ACDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ. And Elmo's Song. She sings that, too.
She loves her friends. Cady and Cassie, and Jay and Ella, hold very dear spaces in her heart. She's still learning sharing, and taking turns, and "nice touches" and all that, but what do we expect? She's TWO.
The child in my house is not the same one who was there the last time I wrote. She's one year older, one year wiser, and one year naughtier. She's simply fantastic.

Life is better. Slowly but surely, we're pulling ourselves out of the holes we had been stuck in.

A New Day

Sometimes things look better in the morning.  Nothing has resolved, all the problems are still there, but I have something better. 

We had our Dia de Los Reyes celebration, and celebrate we did.  We had pan de jamon, key lime pie, and lots of laughs.  Sofia helped take down the tree, and carefully placed each ornament back in the boxes, and we talked about the story each one holds.  The Kings brought her a tricycle, which she pushes around, climbing into the seat, saying "Peeeeeeese".  We drive around the livingroom, laughing and zooming.   Sofia's baby gets a turn.

Julio and I sat on the couch, watching Sofia play.  She played with her farm, dancing the the tractor's song (don't ask).  She carefully holds her baby, rocking her and kissing her, then placing her in the cradle, covering her up, rocking her, saying "Nigh Night".  

This girl, this family.  

It's better than I could ever have imagined.  Her kisses and smiles, her laughs and giggles, each new word, each new discovery, each moment is perfect.  

We're still moving in with my parents.  Our house is still in danger of foreclosure (keep hoping for that short sale), we are still unemployed.  We're formulating a plan, that I'm hoping with all my might comes to fruition and makes us  better off in the long run.  

No matter what happens, though, as long as we have each other, we'll be okay.  

the hell?

Damn.  The possibilities we thought we had have pretty much closed.  And here I was, thinking 2009 might be kinder to us and something might actually work out.  

I don't know what else to do or how to keep on keeping on.  It all seems so futile.  We're contemplating a move in with my parents.  It does not feel good to be nearly 28 years old and still floundering, still living with the parents, still needing help.  My own two feet haven't been very sturdy to stand on, it seems.  How much longer before they tire of my bullshit?  

I need to remind myself, it has only been a few months.  We have been pretty tight with money since we married five years ago, but we only actually required help one other time.  I haven't failed my life.  I've hit a rough spot that requires the help of those who love me.  

Tomorrow is January sixth, the Parra tradition.  We began it only last year, but I'm looking forward to it.  We make traditional food, take down our tree, give Sofia a small present (this year is a garage sale find from the summer; a tricycle!) from Los Reyes and remind ourselves how blessed we are to have each other.  So, I'm baking and trying to pretend that my life isn't falling apart.  

I've got to ditch the last shreds of my pride that remain with me and move back to the town I grew up in, the place I thought I left forever at 18.  

Wish me luck.

and...one more time

It's a new year and a new chance.  Right?  I get a second chance at this blogging thing?  You know, with actual posting of actual ideas and thoughts and shit?  If I have any of those, that is.

So.  Not much has happened since my last post, and I haven't been able to think beyond tomorrow and how we're going to eat and survive.  I spend each minute trying not to fall apart and wrestling with that knot in my stomach which so far, I haven't untied.  

It might be looser.  I may be closer.

We are losing the house.  We can't find jobs here, we can't make mortgage, and we owe more than the house is currently worth.  We are signing with a realtor and hoping for a short sale which should leave us clean and avoid foreclosure.  And if we have to foreclose, we foreclose.  Being a grown-up sucks donkey balls. (Grown-ups are allowed to use that phrase still, right?  Please tell me grown-ups are still allowed to use that phrase, because if not, I give up right now.  Yes?  Good.  Continue on.)

We're planning on a move.  Two possibilities, one more likely than the other.  It is scary, thinking of starting over again, this time with a child.  I want things to be perfect, right here, right now.  But they aren't.  There are problems beyond just the job thing.  It isn't like a move will leave all the troubles here behind us, but there are advantages to the new location that might help.  

There is the possibility of school.  I'm hoping to go to nursing school sometime in the next two years.  I've been waiting for my vocation since I graduated undergrad, and just haven't felt it.  Nothing seemed right, nothing called to me, so I remained stuck in my mundane, go-nowhere job letting life slip me by.  I think I've finally found it, though.  I've heard the voice telling me that this is my path.  

So.  I guess this post doesn't qualify as thoughts and ideas so much as catch up.  I'll get there, I promise.  Right now, I just need to keep on swimming, keep on swimming.  Even if that swimming doesn't seem like much, it just might take me where I need to go.