breakfast chatter

At the breakfast table this morning with Rachel (5yo) and Carly (2.5yo)...

• Mommy: The Bible says we should do everything "as unto the Lord." How can we do that?

• Rachel: Praise God!

• Mommy: How can we praise God in everything we do?

• Rachel: Pray and read the Bible.

• Mommy: How about when we do other things? How do you play when you play with your sister?

• Rachel: Be kind!

• Mommy: YES! That's one way we can do everything "as unto the Lord." When we are kind to each other, God feels that we love Him, and we always want God to feel that we love Him, right?

• Rachel: But we can't always be kind. We can't always make good choices.

• Mommy: Why not?

• Rachel: Well, because, we always sin just a little bit. I can't always make good choices.

• Mommy: That's true! But we can always try, can't we.

• Carly: But someone taked away our bad choices. Someone did.

• Mommy: Yeah? Who did?

• Carly: Jesus did.

• Mommy: And how did He do that?

• Carly: He died on the cross.

• Mommy: Yes He did! And He rose from the dead so that we can have eternal life!

Thank you, God, for these precious children and their sweet faith. Thank you for the simplicity of your Gospel--that my children can know it and understand it. I pray that they own it and know that it was for THEM that you sent your Son--that you, Jesus, died for Rachel and for Carly and for James. What good news!!

i like my kids

I mean, ain't they cute?? :)

from the other night

Carly (holding a toy stethoscope to my heart): I'm gon check you email, Mommy.

Mommy: um...okay...

Carly (listening intently in the apparatus): You got chocolate milk, orrrr oatmeal?

Mommy: I...uh...well...oatmeal?

Carly (pretending to use the end of the stethoscope as a spoon and scooping imaginary oatmeal): Here you go, Mommy.

Mommy: I am so confused.

carly kaboom

I couldn't NOT record this conversation with my {ahem} stinker of a 2-year-old, Carly...

Backstory: Historically, we have never allowed the children to take things with them into their class at church--no toys, no blankies, no lovies--nothing. And they have really handled that just fine. Neither of the girls have ever been attached to any particular thing, so I that certainly helps. However, a few weeks ago, Carly's teacher hunted me down and asked for Carly's "ducky," the one she was begging for over and over and saying was in her mommy's bag. So I relented. "After all," her teacher (who happens to be a dear friend of mine) reasoned, "a lot of the kids bring their lovies in, and she was seeing them all with their things..." Her teachers told me that she never set Ducky down even once, and, sure enough, he was wholly intact and in her grip when I picked her up. Since then (it's been a few weeks), I have allowed her to take something with her every Sunday, provided that her something is a small something.

So this morning, as we were all getting ourselves ready for church, she was on the hunt. "I'm looking for something wittle," she said. She decided on several options, but her favorite choice was a [large] pink doggy/lovey blanket. Half-engaged in her decision-making process, and half-focused on my own preparations, I reminded her that she needed something little. I believe I remarked several times, "No, honey, he's not little," as she repeatedly requested to take the dog.

Continuing in my own tasks, I didn't pay much attention to her. I was only half-listening [again] a few minutes later, when she said about her dog, "Mommy, I want to name him 'Little.'"

"Oh, good, honey. That's a good name for a dog," I mumbled.

"Mommy?" she said.

"Yes Carly?"

"I wanna take him to chuuurch."

"No honey," I sighed, "remember, he's not lii..." :|

She got me. She got me good. She just looked at me and blinked those big blue eyes, as if to say, "Was there something you wanted to say, Mommy?" I grinned to myself but tried not to let her see, and I ignored the conversation. That stinker knew what I was saying, and I need not say it again.

Is it foolish for me to hope she won't get any more clever than this?

2 years. 2 months.

It has been awhile, oh Blog o' mine. Many moments since July 31 have warranted a post--some marker to later remind myself of these days, but I just haven't done it.

But today is special (not that every other day isn't). Today is my middle child's 2nd birthday. She's beautiful. She has crystal blue eyes and hair that is growing these sweet little baby curls in the back. Some days I want to just freeze time. She's affectionate and snuggly, and very very opinionated. Over the last couple of weeks, she has most certainly reinforced the "Terrible Two's" reputation--temper tantrums that can only be left alone, a ready "NO" regardless of the question, and a general contrary spirit that is immensely frustrating to all of us. But she's so cute.

The girl talks. A LOT. She's anxious to communicate, and you can almost hear how hard she works to put words together into the complex sentences she's surprisingly able to construct. "Mommy...I want...go...Rachel's room...Rachel...say...noooooo," in her tiny little voice, with her most serious expression, wagging her finger and nodding her head all the way. It's cute. She repeats Rachel without letting her even complete her own sentences sometimes (Rachel says, "Carly! Don't coffee me!").

We tried to move her to Rachel's room a few nights ago. It didn't go well. At all. We even pushed the beds together so it would be like she's sleeping WITH her sister, but to no avail. I was anxious, because we need the nursery for my growing fat baby boy, but we will just have to figure out something else for now.

AND speaking of my fat baby, I never have posted about him! Yesterday was his 2-month birthday! I can't believe he's that old, but at the same time, I can't believe he's that young! The kid was 9 lbs 5 oz at birth, and he has not slowed down at all. He's so much bigger than the girls were at this age that I forget how young he really is (I find myself picking him up like he's a 4-month-old and then remembering that he's not quite so steady yet). He's a cute one, too. I think he looks a lot like Carly did, but I can see Rachel in him often, too. It will be fun to watch him grow and to see who he resembles most. Of course, like the other two, it seems he will have blue eyes like their father. But I'm in love with those blue eyes, so I consider it a good thing.

Labor and delivery were not so different this time. I thought he would come a little faster, but he didn't (of course), and, as providence would have it, he was born in the 8:00pm hour, just like my other two. Weird. He was 9 days late--9 extra days of a pregnancy that could not have been slower.

I struggled emotionally after Carly was born. For the entire first year I struggled. But I feel great this time. I can attribute that to many things. For one, I am in a better place spiritually than I have ever been. When Carly was born, I was at a low. I struggled with bitterness and resentment toward my husband, and it took that year for the Lord to reveal truths to me that ultimately humbled me and allowed me to experience real love--from God and from my husband. Secondly, my little fat baby is SUCH A GOOD SLEEPER. I think getting adequate (or anywhere close to adequate) sleep makes a really really big difference in my (anyone's?) psychological health. Carly nursed all night long (almost) for her entire first year (almost). Once I put her down at night, I never knew when or how often she'd be up again. But James (did I say we named him James?) has been a sleeper from the beginning, and already he has a lovely routine of taking a good, hard, solid 3-hour nap every single afternoon, and going to bed (sleeping HARD) sometime during the 7:00pm hour, not waking again until 2:00am at the earliest. Even if he wakes up for some reason, he has no interest in nursing, so I'm totally off the hook. Neither of my girls have been this way. Rachel was a great night sleeper, but not daytime. Carly slept just okay during the day, and terrible at night. James...I prayed for you, dear sir--that you would just SLEEP. Praise the Lord!

And finally, I think the biggest reason I feel great is because I felt so HORRIBLE during this last pregnancy! Almost from the day I found out I was pregnant, I felt awful. I didn't have morning sickness, thankfully (and I know some of you probably stopped reading right there because of how unfair that is), but this boy killed my back. I had sciatic nerve pain the whole time (to the point that walking reduced me to tears at times), and by the end, I thought my pelvis would shatter and my hips would be permanently dislocated. I felt completely debilitated to do the simplest chores around the house. I didn't cook dinner. I never cleaned. It's a wonder my family survived. Of course, my husband was the hero--I think he barely survived.

I cannot capture all of the joyous details I've skipped over the last 3 months, but I can definitely say that, while I am a tired mommy, I am blissfully tired. This has always been my dream--to be a mommy. I work hard. I have learned to be more organized and more productive. I feel accomplished to accomplish what would seem so simple, were I not juggling three little kids along the way.

And while my kids make me crazy most of the time, I try to realize how quickly time passes, and how I will long to return here, if only for a day, when my kids are grown, and I try to cherish the everyday moments and freeze them, if only in my mind's eye.

countdown

Well, it's official: I've been pregnant for a really long time. This pregnancy has seemed to last forever. I wanted to get my thoughts out about all of it before Baby Boy gets here, lest I forget (isn't it weird how soon we forget?...definitely a God thing--why else would I ever do this again??).

Almost since Day One of this pregnancy, I've had terrible back pain. Baby has bothered my sciatic nerve the entire time, and I have required a lot of help from friends and family (some times more than others, and completely unpredictable from one day to the next). My sweet husband has been more than willing to help around the house, and I'm so grateful to have several family members (including grandparents!) closeby and available, too. All-in-all, it has been a humbling nine months for me.

My sweet girls have grown up during this time, too. It is incredible to watch the rapid change that happens in a kid between her first birthday and her second. Carly will be two at the beginning of November, and, as much as she delights my heart, she is definitely coming into her own. Her big sister is an incredibly intense, persistent, and perceptive child, but Carly has made it clear that she is able to--and will certainly grow into her ability to--match wits with Rachel. I often hear friends remark on how different their children are from each other, but I am here to tell you that I have a set of identicals on my hands. There are differences, of course, and I think Carly would be a bit calmer than Rachel if she weren't trying to keep up with her sissy. Carly is much snugglier than Rachel ever has been. Rachel is very physical, but not snuggly. And Carly is a Mama's Girl, whereas Rachel has always always been a Daddy's girl--a few nights ago, at bedtime, she said to me, "it's just...it's just...it's just that I love Daddy just a little bit more than you" (and besides that, she looks and expresses herself JUST LIKE HIM). As much as they have grown to be so similar, Carly at least resembled me a bit more in the beginning. But, as with her little personality, her little face has morphed into one that very strongly resembles that of her big sister, and there is no longer any question that the two are closely related.

Rachel was a late talker, but once she got started, she has not stopped talking. She asks questions incessantly, and seems to feel the need to know every detail of every goings-on around her. With her non-stop talking, Carly speech and language have been incredibly accelerated (at least compared to Rachel's). At 20 months, she is readily putting words together into complete thoughts and having full conversations with us (albeit, simplistic and repetitive ones).

And one of my favorite things right now is listening to Rachel and Carly converse. The two are definitely getting to a fun stage where they entertain each other, and I get to listen to cackles and squeals from the two of them as they play (along with regular intervals of fusses and whines). But Rachel enjoys banter, so she is always prodding Carly with ridiculous conversation. Here's an example...

• Rachel: Mommy, I'm hungry. Can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
• Mommy: Yes, it's lunch time, we can do that.
• Carly: Mommy, I hungy! Peanut butter!!!
• Rachel: Carly, I'm hungry too, can I be hungry too?
• Carly: NOOOOO!
• Rachel: Carly, can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich too?
• Carly: NOOOO! NO! NO! Mommy, peanut butter!
• Rachel: Carly, I want one, Mommy can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Mommy?
• Mommy: Yes, Honey, I've already said you can.
• Rachel (whiny voice): Carly says I can't.
• Mommy: (sigh)

It's funny to recount, but, as it happens many times a day, it can become rather wearing.

Rachel turned four in June, and she's grown in many ways. I had been holding out for four, hoping she would settle down some (as promised by some friends with spirited children). Her birthday came and went without much change. Just as we were rounding the corner to July, though, it happened. I still would describe her as "spirited," but she seems significantly more malleable now. She is more willing to hear us out and to concede to our authority over her. She is easier to discipline (I was at my wits end with disciplining her because she did not respond well to anything we tried--it was all like a game to her) and [usually] seems genuinely humbled when she makes a bad choice that leads to action from us. She is also displaying more discernment, which is a relief, and I don't feel the need to keep my eyes on her at every second for fear of where her impulses will lead. It is a nice change to send her upstairs with her friends to play by themselves, or to let her swim around the shallow end with her floaties and not worry that she'll slip out of the pool and run to the other end. I long for a fence around our backyard so I can send her out to play there! Although, she does not usually choose to be alone, so I'm not sure she would go out by herself anyway...my little extrovert.

And as Rachel rounded the corner to 4-year-old maturity, Carly passed her by, rounding the corner in the other direction. Almost on cue, she became contrary and determined, easily-frustrated and not easily-convinced when it comes to doing anything that isn't her idea. It's all so familiar that it's eerie. She's still cute, with all her baby pudgy, those piercing blue eyes, her funny little antics and the way she talks. But because she is so similar to Rachel, I know where it leads, and it makes me nervous and almost dreading her third year (she's not even two, and I'm dreading her third year...how unreasonable is that?). I am hoping that, having come out on the other side with Rachel, I will be able to have a better outlook the second time around. I am also praying to enjoy this sweet season with her now, before the storm really hits, and that God will give me wisdom to handle it better when it comes.

And Baby Boy. We cannot wait to meet you. We cannot imagine how our lives will change. I have tried to imagine snuggling up with a baby boy (all my friends say boys are the cuddliest and that they do so love their mommies), but it's hard to envision it being the same with a boy. Baby girls are little, sweet flowers--delicate and feminine and dainty. It is just difficult for me to anticipate what having a boy will be like. I'm intrigued and excited to have a new experience on our third time around. I'm also extremely curious about how different this child might be. The first two sure look like their daddy. This one might look like me. My labors were identical with Rachel and Carly (17-hour labor, 30-45 minutes pushing, both born around 8:30pm, perfectly healthy, both weighing 7lbs 12oz, no meds), and neither were earlier than predicted (in fact, Carly was seven days LATE). This one might really surprise us and come early, and he might come fast, or we might need interventions we've never had to have before. Who knows?? It would be very surprising if it all happened the same a THIRD time, so I'm expecting the unexpected, knowing all the while that I cannot prepare because I just don't know (neither from experience nor from my imagination) what will be.

So, looking at my ticker, I am at 36 weeks and 3 days today. The house is a wreck--there's so much that needs to be done before Baby makes his debut. We need to settle on a name. As long as this pregnancy has seemed, this date has surely crept up on me. But I remain fairly relaxed. I guess I feel as prepared as I'll ever be and as unprepared as I've ever been.

she's eighteen...months

Oh, sweet Carly. I have so much updating to do on her growth and goings-on. She adores her big sister, and she's learned to push Rachel's buttons, too. She's opinionated and full of personality. Life is so much more fun with her around.

Last Monday, I started her in big girl undies. ...well, to her, they are big girl undies. They are really the teeny tiny padded Gerber training undies, but they are definitely not diapers, which is the key. My plan was to wait until the weather got warm enough, and then let her run around in undies and a tee for a few days until she figured things out. Thankfully, I don't have to worry one iota about poopy, because she hasn't done that in her pants in MONTHS...I honestly cannot remember the last poopy diaper I had to change. So, I've waited on the peepee. I started Rachel in undies much earlier, and it resulted in much frustration. Looking back on our EC experience with her, it was just a silly mistake on my part--I needed to be comfortable waiting until the child could clearly communicate her needs. With Rachel, I was left guessing (does that mean potty? does she need to go? is she going to go in her pants??). Carly can say everything that needs to be said, and clearly has a grasp of all of it: potty, diaper, undies, dry, wet...she gets it.

So last Monday and Tuesday were full of puddles. She did immediately start telling me when she had wet (she was always so concerned with "peepee...floor"). By Wednesday, we could have let ourselves become quite frustrated, but, I held onto hope that she'd get better. By the weekend, she was making it to the potty much more often, and yesterday, we were accident-free! AND, the best part is that we aren't having to prompt her at all--I think that is key to knowing she understands (I remember constantly asking Rachel, mostly out of fear that I would miss her cues). She even woke up Monday morning, calling "potty, potty, potty" and her diaper was DRY! That hasn't happened again, although her morning daipers have been significantly less soggy. I'm certainly okay with that taking a little longer (Rachel was almost 2 1/2 before she stayed dry at night).

At any rate, it appears we're pretty well there--with a potty-trained baby turning 18 months old yesterday. And I could not be more pleased with our journey this time around. We started on Day 1 with EC (Elimination Communication) this time. It sounds like a long time to work on something, but it has become a lifestyle around here. Was it worth it, knowing that I might could have gone this route (that is, potty training by way of training pants in 2 weeks or less) even without all the preliminary pottying that happened over the last 18 months? YES. A thousand times--YES. I cannot ignore the fact that she has always pooped in the potty as the rule, not the exception, and began doing so consistently around 7 months (whenever solid poop showed up and she began sitting up). No, she didn't tell me, and yes, I changed many poopy diapers too. But what mommy wouldn't give up a little extra effort to have to deal with LESS poopy?? By about 10 months, I probably only had to change one poopy diaper a week (give or take), and by 12 months, hardly ever. For THAT, and that alone, it's worth it to me. And I can't help but think that our week-in-undies has been made easier by EC.

Other things I love about Carly:

• She loves hugs, and, although she's on-the-move all day, she regularly checks in for a good snuggle.
• She also loves to snuggle with stuffed animals, and, anytime she snuggles, she says, "awwwwww" when she hugs one of her little friends, or one of us. It's very cute.
• When she's having fun, she says, "BEEEEEEEE" instead of "weeeeee!"
• She says "peeba" for "pizza" (which she loves).
• When she nods affirmatively, her entire torso nods enthusiastically.
• She LOVES to communicate, and gets so very excited when we understand her. She has lots of words, and sometimes will rattle them off, just to hear herself be understood ("knee...knee...knee..." "Yes, Carly, that IS your knee." ).
• She's very ambitious, and is into climbing, jumping, and running. She is expressive when she falls ("woah!" she squeals).
• She thinks Rachel is funny, and she seeks her big sissy's approval. She also knows how to get a rise out of Rachel, which is funny to watch, but it quickly creating points of contention throughout the day. Rachel's a tough cookie, but it appears that Carly will be giving her a run for her money. I love that.
• She is the easiest to laugh. Just a tone in my voice or a sideways glance can get a giggle out of her. And she has the best giggle I've ever heard; it's impossible not to smile or laugh along with her.

There are so many things, every day. I can't count how many times I whisper under my breath, You are so stinkin' cute.. The twinkly in those clear blue eyes, and those squishy chubby, thighs and the little curls that are growing in the back of her hair...her random assortment of teeth, the way she'll crawl or scoot on her bottom just to be funny, the way she's beginning to pretend and form her own opinions. I think we'll keep her.

...a year later

I've been meaning to write this post for awhile, mostly for bench-marking purposes. Carly turned one on November 4th...yes, more than two months ago (but I think I've only posted once since then because of all the Christmas crafting going on around here!). ANYway...

Carly turned one. Oh, sweet Carly. I was so confident when we found out we were having another baby. I've heard, and now repeat, that the transition from one kid to two is a killer. I've heard it's the toughest transition, but we'll be seeing about that...

The first six months of Carly's life were rough. Of course, it could have been significantly worse than it was, but my sweet, smiley baby was sick. A LOT. She had breathing issues. I was never sure if she had a cold or if she was contagious. I hated that she had been prescribed antibiotics three times for ear infections, and that the pediatrician was encouraging us to try awful asthma meds. I never took her anywhere because I was afraid she'd get the flu. We never had friends over because I was afraid she would infect their kids with whatever it was. I was lonely. And blue. Maybe even depressed.

We finally visited the lung specialist when Carly was 6.5 months old. He gave us one word: Tracheomalacia. I took it home and read, and all the pieces made sense. We started her on acid reflux medication (acid reflux is a common problem associated with Tracheomalacia), which cleared up her congestion (congestion can be the manifestation of acid reflux...weird) and kept her from getting any more ear infections.

The bottom line is that I found out my baby wasn't really sick after all. What she had was a minor birth defect that will correct itself. PHEW! I began to cheer up. I still had my moments/days/weeks of not feeling great. I was run down with a baby who didn't sleep through the night. I know I know, I could have let her "cry it out." But I am not of the school of thought that says that sleeping through the night is the beginning and end of parenting, and so I did not do what I did not want to do. Carly never nursed well during the day--perhaps the Tracheomalacia, maybe the acid reflux. Whatever the reason, she nursed WELL at night, and I was always sure she was getting plenty of nourishment as long as she was waking up. As she got older, I cherished those wee-hours feedings, because Carly is an on-the-move girl, and there were many days when those were my only snuggles from her. I loved it. But I was tired.

When she was 11 months old, eating well, and pleasantly plump, I finally decided to let her cry. She's of the determined sort, and cry she did. Although she has always been a dream to put down (she basically dives into her crib and waves me out of the room), she would wake up at 10pm, 11pm, midnight--whenever--and cry. For hours. My options were to spend 5 minutes nursing her and then put her back in her crib, or listen to her cry. For hours. At 11 1/2 months, I held strong...until 4:00am. And so, she developed a 4am waking habit. I didn't care, until last month. I realized that if I ever wanted to spend the night away from this one, I'd need to do away with this 4am thing (and it wasn't helping much anymore, since she'd often go back to sleep only until 5:45 or 6). So for four or five nights in a row, we listened to her cry/fuss/whine/whimper from sometime in the 3:00am hour until morning. But then she was over it! And so I was once again affirmed, that nothing I, the mommy, choose to do in the first year of Baby's life can't be corrected in a few days of re-training. Although I was tired for...over a year...I look back and do NOT regret nor begrudge the sleep I lost. I took care of my baby the way my instincts dictated, I had fun doing it, and she thrived.

Wow, I'm really rambling...

Where was I? ...the second six month of Carly's life...I felt much better, but I was still tired. I had moments of pure energy and excitement, contrasted with moments of anxiety, loneliness, and sadness. But, by and by, the good days outnumbered the bad, and I was happy to have weathered the storm and gained so much new insight from the Lord.

And then Carly turned one.

And then I was normal.

I felt normal. I acted normal. Things didn't look bleak. I felt blessed and encouraged. I felt empowered and energized. And, within days of Carly's birthday, I remarked to Jarrad that I'm pretty sure I'll look back and say, "And then, it took me a full year to recover from my second-born."

I'm pregnant again, if you haven't heard. I'm just over 8 weeks along, and feeling tired, but fine otherwise. Rachel is at a frustrating age, and I can definitely tell I have a shorter fuse. My days of normalcy were short-lived, I suppose, but I'm hopeful they will return quickly after we meet this sweet one. Maybe this one will sleep through the night a little sooner. Hm...I kinda hope not...

BIRTHDAY GIRL!

Where goes the time? Our sweet Carly was born one year ago today. I don't even have the words to express this emotion of knowing that your baby is not such a baby anymore. This little girl, who a year ago lay helpless in my arms, is now toddling everywhere and forming opinions of her own. She says a few words--including "no no" and "night night," which sound the same--but even without much vocabulary, has become quite bossy. In fact, she rather reminds me of another little missy who also lives in my house and seeks to rule the roost during her every waking moment. It has quickly become apparent that Rachel will soon meet her match in Carly.

Probably my favorite thing about Carly right now is that she loves to snuggle (on her own terms, of course). I call her Kitty Cat (I think I've reported that in another post) because she likes to bump her head against things/people. If I lean close to her, she will meet me halfway and give me a forehead check. She loves wallowing around on the bed or on pillows on the floor. I love it. The stage she's in is so fun. She's been walking long enough now that she's started climbing and trying to sit on things, and she loves to come check in with Mommy or Daddy on occasion, which is nice. She is ready to go to bed every night by 6:30pm, and will almost run to the bottom of the stairs repeating "NAAAA NA, NAAAA NA, NAAAA NA" at the mere mention of going night night. She also loves wearing her shoes. If ever she is mad about not being allowed to do something (usually climb the stairs), I can always suggest we find her shoes for a good distraction. She finds them, carries them to me, throws them on the floor at my feet, and sits down expectantly. Her command is "Da," and that's all she really needs, as it is usually quite plain what she's wanting to communicate. She repeats my intonation, too. If I say "Do you wanna go eat?" she usually follows with, "Daa?" with a little cock of her eyebrow. I know she's my own, but I do think she is so stinking cute. And I don't know how she ended up with these bright blue eyes, but we get comments on them everywhere we go, and I'm thinking we'll need to lock her away when the boys start noticing.

It has been an eventful year for our family, and it's hard to remember what life was like before sweet Carly was here to make it more enjoyable. And I can't wait to see where to Lord takes our family from here! And finally, here is a video from a couple of weeks ago, when Carly insisted on wearing these particular shoes for her regular tour of the living room. Silly baby!

toddling

Well, it's done. Carly is officially done being my little baby. A little over a week ago, she officially took up walking as her new favorite way to get around. Over the span of about 3 days, she went from insisting on holding someone's hands to walk around (i.e. she was unhappy and very vocal about it if we weren't perpetually helping her walk), to cruising around the entire downstairs by herself (very creatively, I might add) to taking a few steps here and there, to wanting to walk without help (i.e. she brushed us off when we offered her a hand). That's a lot of learning in such a short time! I don't quite know where it is she's wanting so badly to go, but she's going, and I guess that's keeping her happy for now. She is also able to bend over, pick something up, and stand again. And the past couple of days, she's been really into trying to pick up big things (like the Boppy pillow). The video below is from one week ago, on Friday. You can see Eager Big Sister "helping" Carly walk, and then pretending to be a baby herself. Silly girls.

the baby

It has occurred to me many times over the last week that I NEED to update my blog. Moments and memories are slipping away, and they will be forgotten if I don't write them down! And so I intend to ramble...

Carly is the delight of my life right now. There is nothing sweeter than a baby, in my opinion, and there is no sweeter baby than my Carly, in my opinion. Of course, I suppose I ought to feel that way about my own, but I really enjoy this age so so much (she's 10 months old already). She's had several nicknames so far: Coughing Carly (because of her constant little Tracheomalacia cough), Machine Gun Carly (because she has a funny little hacking, sputtering laugh she does for attention), and Kitty Cat (because she has the cutest little habit of bumping things/people with her forehead affectionately, like a cat wanting to be petted). I call her Kitty Cat a lot, and she knows I'm talking to her when I do. She laughs easily, and she's starting to get her own ideas and opinions about her surroundings. She's not as interested in sitting still on the potty lately, but she still almost always goes poopy in there, which is fine by me. It's amazing how much easier all of that has been to handle the second time around.

The girl finally figured out how to eat finger foods. She could have done it sooner, had she only put the food in her mouth instead of examining it and then throwing it on the floor. Once she got it, though, she's been quite entertained by it. One saltine occupies her, while the rest of us have a pleasant dinner together, which is a real luxury that I'm sure won't last long.

She sprint-crawls rather effectively, and she has taken a few isolated steps, but hasn't truly started walking yet. She loves nothing more than to walk assisted, however, which is hard on Mommy's back, but worth it to see that twinkle in her clear blue eyes. I also finally let her cry all night one night about three weeks ago, and she's been sleeping through the night ever since. It's nice to get a full night of rest, but I kind of miss those midnight snuggles. I'll never really get those back, I guess, but that's just what happens when the baby grows up. It is so funny--the sense of relief I feel when she goes to sleep for a nap or at night, but how truly happy I am to see her when she wakes up. And she's happy, too. She jumps up and down in her crib and grins and giggles behind her paci.

All told, I'd do anything for this baby--absolutely anything. She is so easy to love. And I can definitely see how it happens that the older child gets blamed for everything while the baby is, well, babied. Whenever Carly cries or seems discontent, I find myself looking to Rachel first- "What did you do?" In my defense, I'm right about half the time. Other times, the poor big sister is on the other side of the room minding her own business, and Carly is fussing just to hear the sound of her own voice.

I think I will be sad one day, when I grow too old to have a baby around. I'm not there yet--I've always wanted a house full. But it will happen. And then I will pray for grandbabies.

crawling to a crawl

I've decided that I really love having two much more than just having one. They entertain each other, and it's music to my ears when Rachel asks, "When's Carly gonna wake up?" as her sister is napping. For now, it seems almost easier to have two. But my world is rapidly changing. Check out what Carly figured out a few days ago--and know that she is becoming more and more proficient every day. EEK! (Note: this is MY first movie attempt. Jarrad is usually the movie-maker, but I thought I'd give it a whirl...)

the littler one

Carly is doing so much better. I have been giving her medication for acid reflux, which has seemed to clear up her cough and congestion. I am thankful, although I cringe every time I give her the meds. At least she hopefully won't get any more ear infections. She is just as happy and healthy as can be! She has yet to figure out how to accomplish forward motion, which causes her some frustration, but otherwise, she is easy to smile and laugh. She has quickly out-grown the snuggly phase, which I miss, but it is fun to watch her little personality come out.

And she uses the potty. I have only had to change two or three poopy diapers in the last three weeks or so, and those have been when I let her play in her crib after waking from a nap or in the morning. I don't have to verbally cue her anymore (although I do usually say, "Do you need to go peepee?") because she recognizes the potty and knows what to do. I remember doing a lot of sitting and waiting with Rachel when I started her (which was at this same age), but Carly usually goes pretty quickly if she needs to go. Now that it's hot weather, I am considering letting her roam around diaperless some, just to see what happens. I imagine it would end in a few messes, but I would sure be more attentive to get her to the potty when I think she needs to go!

Carly turns 7 months old on Thursday, and I can hardly remember what life was like before she was around. She definitely makes me want a houseful and to never be without a baby, but I guess we'll wait to see what the Lord has in store for us!

Here are some pictures of Carly with her big sister. Some people are surprised that I like to dress my girls in matching clothes. It may not seem like me, but I do think it's cute! Maybe it's because I never had a sister? Who knows, but I'll keep doing it as long as they'll let me, and as long as the clothes they are given work out to match sometimes (we are blessed with lots of hand-me-downs from friends).

my little baby

Our sweet little Carly turns 6 months old tomorrow. Praise God we seem to have an answer for her persistent cough: acid reflux or Tracheomalacia, either of which she will grow out of without consequence. We have medication for acid reflux, but I haven't been able to bring myself to give it to her yet. If she has it, it sure doesn't seem to bother her, aside from the normal amount of spit up (still significantly less than we experienced when Rachel was a baby), and, of course, the congestion/cough. It doesn't make her fussy, keep her up at night, or cause her trouble breathing. On the other hand, if she gets another ear infection, I sure will kick myself for not giving it to her. Oh, these mommy decisions...

I finally started Carly on rice cereal about a week and a half ago. I'm rather hesitant when it comes to food, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because it's such a tangible sign that my baby won't be a baby forever, or maybe it's just because we can't avoid having "another mouth to feed" any longer, but whatever it is, I put it off as long as I can. She loves it, though, and she caught on to the whole deal rather quickly (my baby, my little baby..). I can hardly stand it!

She's great fun now, too. I can't believe how proficient she is becoming. She was playing with an input toy a couple of days ago, and she was actually picking up the balls and putting them right where they belonged! (my baby, my little baby).. She can sit up on her own quite well (although I still don't leave her sitting by herself), and she wants to get moving so badly. She thinks Rachel is hilarious, and she has the cutest habit of keeping the very tip of her index finger perched right inside her bottom lip. She is as pleasant as any baby I've ever been around, and I love her sweet little voice that she's finding more and more (she's gone from cooing to "yayayaya" to "dadadada" in the past week). She also L-O-V-E-S being naked (or "nakedy" as Rachel and I call it), and will giggle at nothing when she's free from diaper and clothes.

And speaking of diapers, yes--she still wears them. She goes on the potty some, of course, but I don't foresee a diaper-free future for quite some time. We do love catching what we catch, though, and she definitely knows what's going on now. (my baby, my little baby). I am less enchanted now with pottying and cloth diapering, and I'm happy to move into a season when it's all just a part of normal life--the potty, the cloth diapers, the laundry. With Rachel, I resorted back to disposable diapers pretty readily, but now I don't even think of it, really, because cloth is what we're used to.

The first picture here shows how much Rachel loves that her sissy is growing into a playmate. I can't turn my back on Carly for more than a few minutes before Rachel has surrounded her with toys. I sometimes can't find Carly in the mound, and she seems to get overwhelmed at times, but I do think it's sweet.

Below is the face Daddy will want her to use on all the boys:

not forgotten

I have neglected to post much lately about my less articulate daughter. She is growing so fast, and it already makes me sad that she's zoomed past the newborn stage. She woke up on Christmas eve with RSV, and it has taken these last seven weeks to really mend. Although she's been sick for half of her little life so far, she is the most pleasant, easy-going baby I could ever want. She sleeps well and nurses well, she smiles and plays, and I just can't get enough snuggles from her. Her fuzzy dark brown hair seems to be growing, and her eyes just get bluer and bluer.

My little Carly is three months old today. I feel like I blinked my eyes and it happened--her clothes are getting tight and her cheeks are getting chubby. She's still getting up twice a night, and she's still in our room; I plan to move her upstairs to the nursery when she stops having coughing fits, if that ever that happens.

As for the rest of us, having two has definitely been an adjustment, and being stuck in the house has been wearing on all of us. But I wouldn't trade any of it, because my sweet Carly is the perfect little addition to our family. Rachel really really loves her, and so do Mommy and Daddy.

new baby, new chart

Saturday night, I started re-reading a lot of articles and testimonials about Elimination Communication. I have a renewed interest now, and I feel encouraged and, well, not as silly, after having read what other mothers have done. I even found one story that sounded just like my experience with Rachel! Anyway, I also felt emboldened to go diaper-free with Carly. But, since that sounds potentially messy, I've decided to just go waterproofless. So, during the day today, she has worn just a cloth diaper with no waterproof cover. Interestingly, but not surprisingly, we have had much fewer misses today! So, for old time's sake, here's the potty chart for today, as of 3:00pm:

Potty Report

	potty	diaper
peepee	7	4
poop	3	1

Wow, babies go a lot. I knew she went often, but not that often! Going cloth, and especially going without the waterproof cover has been very enlightening on that end. Knowing that she wasn't waterproof made me much more attentive to her cues. When she fussed, and I knew she was neither hungry nor sleepy, I took her potty. And she's gone almost every time, even though there was a time or two when she had just gone 10 minutes before. Herein lies my biggest consideration when debating about whether to continue with this EC thing: now that I've seen it, how could I not assume that might be the reason behind any efforts to communicate with me? I am learning her hunger cues, and her sleepy cues, and now her "elimination" cues, and I just don't think I could ignore any of the three at this point. After all, what else does a baby do?? Of course, I'm not right every time, but sometimes I also think she's hungry when she's not, and sometimes I think she's tired when she's not (or, conversely, I don't think she's hungry when she actually is, or that she's tired when she actually is), so it stands to reason that I would miss some of her elimination cues just as easily.

With Rachel, I had a definitive goal to be done with diapers by the time she reached 12 months. I moved the goal to 18 months when we "failed" the first goal, and then I gave up on having a goal at all when she wasn't completely done at 18 months. I felt frustrated as she got older and still had accidents. But, after reading a lot of the accounts from other moms, and now being on the other side of it with Rachel (she's been fully trained by day and night for about 5 months now), I know to consider this a process, and I know that it will just "click" with Carly whenever she is mature enough. I know that I am laying the groundwork for future potty learning, and whether we have more catches or more misses is neither here nor there. It is about learning to communicate with my baby about her basic needs, and setting forth clear expectations so I won't have to re-train her from using a diaper when she's older.

I am totally in love with this concept, in case you can't tell, and there is nothing sweeter than the times I have with just her, holding her little dimpled bottom over the potty and seeing her grin up at me after she's gone. She seems to realize what's happening, but, at the least, I can just assume she likes being bare-bottomed. I'm happy for those gummy grins, whatever the reason.

a baby story

I wasn't prepared for this.

But then, who is? Bringing home a newborn for the second time sounded easy enough. After all, I know what to expect this time. I know not to panic when she goes through the various strange but short-lived stages of changing sleep cycles and feeding habits. I didn't plan to be so worried.

But I am. It is unbelievable how I can worry so. I was not anticipating the wave of emotions that would accompany this new little one: fear that I can't take care of her adequately, guilt that her big sister suddenly cannot have all my attention, and dread at the thought of figuring out how to care for all three of us once things are supposed to be back to 'normal.' How do people do this?

But they do. And I will. I just want so much to do it well.

Carly Britt came on November 4, 2008--an historic election day in our country. My labor was almost identical to my labor with my firstborn, Rachel. As with Rachel, contractions stirred me from my slumber around 2:45am. I timed them, and, although they were mild, they were frequent. The first time around, I woke Jarrad almost immediately, and he jumped out of bed and started dancing around, excited to meet our little girl. This time, I got up and scurried around putting the finishing touches on each element of planning for the day. I did wake Jarrad, who grunted and grinned, called his dad (who lives 3 hours away), rolled over and went back to sleep. My contractions continued with regularity, but did not get much stronger. With Rachel, I remember these same contractions feeling painful, but this time, having already experienced what was to come, I knew to go about my business. By 4:30am with Rachel, we had called the doc and convinced her we needed to be admitted for labor and delivery, but that left us with a very long day of very slow progress. This time, I went back to sleep at 4:30am for almost an hour, and was discouraged to wake up and find that the contractions had almost disappeared. I was determined not to rest again until this baby came. Not wishing to spend that frustrating day walking around a birthing facility, but convinced things would move along much quicker this time, Jarrad and I finalized arrangements for Rachel and made our way to the mall.

We walked. We walked and we walked. We had lunch and we walked. We rested on a bench, had a milkshake, and walked. Almost four hours ticked away. My contractions were getting vaguely stronger, but not regular. We were exhausted, and I was beginning to feel defeated. So we returned home around 4:30pm to get some rest.

Aunt KiKi came around 6:00pm to pick up Rachel for a sleepover. By the time she got to our house, my contractions had suddenly become frequent and debilitating. It was time--finally.

We rushed to the birth center, where a midwife and nurse were waiting. They had already filled the tub, as I desired a water birth. Things progressed so quickly--we arrived at 6:30pm, and Carly was born at 8:30pm. Almost identically, the end went very quickly with Rachel, too. With Rachel, though, the doctor had not yet arrived at the hospital when I was suddenly ready to push. Rachel was born at 8:43pm, and I had an episiotomy and third degree tears, resulting in a lot of stitches and a two-week recovery. At the birth center, the midwife talked me through the pushing stage. She told me that I would be much more likely to tear again because the scar tissue is just not as strong as the original tissue, and that I should focus on letting the contractions do the work. She talked me through each contraction, and I was able to exercise enough control that I didn't need even the first stitch this time.

So, Rachel was born at 8:43pm, and Carly at 8:30pm. Although Rachel was born on her due date, and Carly was 7 days late, my two girls weighed the same: 7lb 12oz. Bizarre. The difference? Rachel was born with the tiniest bit of fuzzy red hair, but our Carly's fuzz is quite a bit darker. Rachel has looked like her father and her PopPop from the beginning, but tiny Carly already favors me and my family. These two girls will probably scarcely look related. My thought is that this is a good thing--maybe they will be less likely to be compared to one another if they look so different. I already know that my love is not split equally between the two, but is, rather, quite impossibly doubled.

These two long days of labor that I experienced with my girls has done one more amazing thing: made me love my husband even more. He is the most wonderful man, who knew all the right things to say and do with each passing moment and each intense contraction. Both times, I remember being completely focused on the hard work of labor and on him. He was the only one I could hear--he even had to repeat everything the midwife said as she talked me through to the end. I was unaware of the others in the room (there were several this time around), and I wanted his touch and his voice only. I am still in awe at how close we feel after working together to bring our babies into this world. He still looks at me like I have accomplished the impossible, and I imagine him to be the strongest, most perfect man alive. I am so grateful.

This process of labor is so moving to me. It is perfectly laid out in such a way that my body instinctively knew what to do. Our Creator created a miracle in this, and I am so blessed to have experienced it twice.

Here is a sampling from Carly's first pictures. It's hard to believe that she was barely 12 hours old when we took her home. BubbleShare: Share photos - Find great Clip Art Images.