Tales of Tucson and the Twos

This has been a long month. Must have something to do with starting the month in one state and ending it in another. And I haven't quite figured out the logic behind it yet, but switching to a two hour time difference is much harder than it should be. We managed to overcome a thirteen hour time difference when we went back to Indonesia for Christmas a year and a half ago--and that included two-year-old Logan and seven-month-old Raelyn. A week or so later, and we had flipped our days and nights. Then we move to Arizona and it takes forever to adjust back two hours. The kids are finally waking up at or a bit after 6:00, but we had to put up curtains for that to happen. I don't know if we'll ever get back to 7:00 wake ups. Most of our boxes are unpacked, though the dismantled boxes have taken over half of our garage. We've never moved to a similarly-sized house before, so it was a bit of a surprise to find that even with the same amount of space, it's all distributed differently, so things don't fit the same way they did before. The two older kids are sharing a room--by choice, I might add. They love sharing a room. I don't know that I love it quite so much--mainly at night when they won't stop talking or singing for hours. [They no longer nap in the same room. It was most assuredly not working.] But I'm also glad they have fun together! Speaking of the kids...

...so when Logan turned two, I had prepared myself for the ominous "terrible twos." I was all set to take them head on, no hesitation, I was ready. But then, the twos were wonderful. I mean, there were still frustrating days, of course. But the overall year, he was great! He was a pretty verbal kid, so communication wasn't an issue most of the time. He obeyed pretty well for a two year old--and being told no mostly made him sad, not angry. And he potty-trained so quickly, I don't think I believed it for a while. And I remember thinking, "If the twos are as bad as it gets, I've totally got this!" But then he turned three. And Lord have mercy, it's like he got replaced with an identical evil twin. I specifically remember we were at In-N-Out one day, and he walked up to the counter and so sweetly asked for some stickers. A little while later one of the employees came up to me and said, "Oh my gosh! If there won't so many people around, I'd steal him from you! He's just so adorable and sweet!" Obviously she was joking. But for just a minute I wanted to say, "I won't tell if you won't." Now don't take this the wrong way, I love my son. And I loved him at three. He just tested my patience a lot. The fours have been a vast improvement, I will say that. But see, he set me up to believe that the year to fear is the threes. That the twos are a breeze. [I promise I'm not trying to rhyme on purpose.] But y'all. I now fully understand the true definition of the terrible twos. My sweet little Raelyn is... well, she's the all encompassing definition of the terrible twos. I'm possibly about to lose my mind. And my voice. And my sanity. I'm ready to return my mom card. But apparently they're non-refundable and I just have to learn how to parent a terrible two year old. She will not use the potty, no matter how many bribes are offered. She endlessly tortures her big brother. Any and all consequences are either ignored or only escalate the situation. [Often both, since ignoring a consequence such as "stay in timeout" only brings about more consequences that then escalate the situation.] I've run out of consequences, y'all. And I think she knows it. All that to say, I miss Waco. For many reasons, of course, but in this moment, I miss it because I miss Mother's Day Out. We would be a week away from both of my older children going to MDO twice a week for 5.5 hours per day. I would get a break from these terrible twos. But instead, Logan gets to go to a preschool three days a week for 3 hours per day... and Raelyn stays with me. All day. Every day. Lord have mercy on my soul. However, if you happen to ever see Raelyn when she's not mad or being stubborn or being bratty, she's pretty adorable.

Other than the lack of an MDO program for Raelyn, we're adjusting to life in Tucson pretty well. Between us and the four houses around us, we have fifteen kids, 7 and younger. And we often go outside in the evenings and the kids take over the corner with an inordinate number of bikes, scooters, balls, and kid-sized cars. Logan loves it! Our neighbors have a pool, and we've gone swimming with them a few times. It's been great having such friendly neighbors with such similarly-aged kids! There's also a huge Asian food store here! I didn't have time to walk around for long, but I'm looking forward to going back one of these days. I'm still figuring out how to go out with three kids solo--I tried it today and it was probably the worst decision I'll make today. Maybe even all week. My precious Ollie does not like any baby carrier. If she's sleepy enough I can eventually get her to sleep in the Ergo. But if she's awake, she will scream the whole time. And this from a baby that 95% of the day is completely silent. She literally hardly makes any noise at all. Unless you put her in a carrier. Needless to say, our trip to Walmart this morning was our last mom + three kids Walmart trip until everyone is older. That or it has to be at a time when 1. Ollie is sleepy enough to fall asleep, 2. We don't need to buy much so the cart can be used to hold children instead of food, or 3. It's an absolute emergency. But most likely... all three. Curbside pick-up it is!

Kid Stories/Quotes:
- Often, when Logan gets hurt or is upset about something I say, "Sorry, Bud." Well... Raelyn has taken note of this. Now, whenever Logan is upset, [typically by something she's doing] she just says, "Sorry, Bud." He doesn't seem to like it much. He yells at her, "Stop calling me Bud! Call me Logan!" To which she says.. "Sorry, Bud."
- Logan: Mommy, I think we will have to go back to Texas for CG. (CG is our small group back in Waco.)
- Logan was telling the preschool director at his new preschool that his favorite Bible story is David and the giant. She was asking him some questions about it when Raelyn said, "I like Zaccheus."
- Logan: Mommy, can I go outside?
  Me: You can go in the backyard. What do you want to do?
  Logan: I need to search for some rocks.
 You may not know this, but here in Tucson, instead of grass in our yards, we have rocks. They're really really not hard to find. But he's so proud of himself every time he finds a new rock. I'm trying to muster up some enthusiasm. But I mean... the odds were really in his favor.
- Ollie sleeps at least nine hours straight every night. Then she's awake for about an hour and then naps for another three hours. She's a chubby little thing, so I know she's getting enough to eat... but I had no idea this much uninterrupted sleep was possible at two and a half months. Now I'm just worried that once she rolls over and we have to stop swaddling her, all this sleep will be but a distant memory.

a new chapter begins

A month or so before I graduated from high school, I wrote a song with a dear friend of mine titled "Turn the Page." In the song we sing about the challenges of leaving a place that's always been home and starting a new chapter in a place we don't know. We sing about the memories that were made, the attempts to make curfew, that last hug for a friend... And here I am, a decade later, with a whole new assortment of memories, friends, and a new home I have to leave.

I thought we would live in Waco for two years while Travis finished up at Baylor. I put forth little effort into establishing roots here because we weren't staying. But then the Lord surprised us. He kept us in Waco. In the following years, we found a wonderful church, made many incredible friendships, bought and sold our first home, bought another home, had three beautiful children... This city became home not because of where it is or what job was here, but because of the life that we lived here. The people; the memories of bringing our babies home (each to a different house, I might add); the church community that rallied around us during some very hard times. I learned how to be a wife here. I learned how to be a mother here. I'm no expert in either arena, but this is where I took my baby steps. The chorus of the song ends with, "...my heart got tied to home. And as the strings are being cut, I trust that He has a plan for leading me away. A new chapter's beginning, and I turn the page." The same way I didn't understand why the Lord kept us in Waco five years ago, I don't know why He's leading us to Tucson. It hurts. Goodbyes never get easier. But Waco became a wonderful home, and I have to trust that Tucson will too. We leave one week from tomorrow, and I know this week will be filled with lots of bittersweet tears.

On a more positive note, since I last wrote, we've added a beautiful baby girl to our family! Our sweet Olivia Rose finally arrived three days late on June 5th at 7:06 in the morning. (So I guess technically she was only two and a half days late, but each day felt like a week, so I'm rounding up for drama's sake.) I finally convinced Travis to take me to the hospital at 3:00 in the morning, we got there at 3:30, and three and a half hours later, we had ourselves a baby! Hah. I was pretty proud of myself for surviving as long as I did without my epidural (not by choice and not at all gracefully). I was dilated to 8 cm right after I got my epidural at approx. 5:30 am. They didn't check me again until I insisted on it at 6:45. (They kept telling me to let them know if I felt any pressure or like it was time to push... and I kept thinking, "Don't they know that I can't feel anything?") At that point, Olivia was so close to making her entrance into the world that the nurse begged me not to push while she found the doctor. Once the doctor arrived, I pushed for about three minutes and we had ourselves a beautiful new baby. After the emotional roller coaster of the past two years, I cried some tears of joy as I held my precious rainbow baby. I had prepared myself for the hardship of newborn life--but Ollie has been so easy. She sleeps well, she cries rarely, and for the first time, I've been able to fully enjoy my newborn baby. I haven't had any of my typical breastfeeding issues, so I've actually been able to enjoy snuggling my baby girl. Feeding her hasn't been wrought with tears and curled toes while I try to hold back screams of excruciating pain. When I saw my doctor at my six week check up, I told him, "It turns out I don't actually hate the newborn phase as much as I thought. I just really really hate mastitis and breast abscesses."

My easier time postpartum... our house here in Waco sold in two days...Travis went to Tucson for a week for work training and found a house... everything that could very easily have sent me into a hormonally induced panic attack has gone so smoothly, it's almost as if the Lord's plans really are best. ;) Anytime I started to doubt that we should be moving, something else fell into place with minimal effort. Moving is hard, but God is good. Our house is being packed on Saturday, loaded up Sunday, and we fly out Monday morning. A new chapter awaits us...so with some resistance, a lot of tears, and only the Lord's strength, we turn the page.

New Section: Kid Stories/Quotes
  ~ The other day, Logan was throwing a long-winded tantrum (yay for the fours!) and Raelyn looks at me and says, "Mommy, why Wogan so stubborn?"
  ~ Logan listening to/watching "We're Going on a Lion Hunt": "Mommy, if they don't want to find a lion, why are they going on a lion hunt?"
  ~ Logan: Mommy, when we move to Arizona, can we bring Ollie with us?
  ~ Logan: Mommy, what do you call a rat going up a hill?
     Me: I don't know. What?
     Logan: A rat.
    Kid's got jokes! :)
  ~My favorite new kid word: disastrophe!

when everything changes...

To this day, my parents and sisters love to tease me about my lifelong resistance to change. Growing up, we had our usual seats at the dinner table. But to me, you might as well have signed a binding contract obligating you to sit in that seat at every dinner, no matter what, till you died--or graduated high school. My less anti-change sisters always wanted to change up the seating assignments--and I would panic and reject their suggestion with gumption. My parents eventually came to a compromise: I could sit in my seat at every dinner. But if my sisters wanted to rearrange everyone else's seats, they were allowed to do that. You would think I could see the fairness in the compromise... but no. It always made me mad. And there's a part of me that still wonders if they only insisted on changing things up because it made me mad, but they'd never fess up to that. Hah! Now why am I'm telling you this riveting tale of dinner seat assignments from my childhood? I feel like it so thoroughly shows just how much I don't like change. Sitting in a different seat at the dinner table is a fairly minor thing. My life, as a whole, was not largely affected by it. Yet I resisted it with a passion.

I like structure. I like routine and consistency and planning. I don't care for spontaneity, though having children has certainly helped me loosen up in some areas. (For example, I don't have to sit in the same seat at dinner anymore. Hah!) Change is hard for me. And for whatever reason, the Lord has decided to take every familiar, stable, consistent thing in my life right now...and change it. Some of it was planned--like having a baby. (Well, more or less planned.) I've known for months now, that we were going to be adding another baby to our family. I've had plenty of time to prepare and anticipate it and mentally ready myself for all that's coming. (Not that you can fully prepare yourself for such a big change, but I chose this big change. And I'm doing everything I can to be ready for it.) But you know what happens to me when I already have a big change coming (chosen or not)? I can't handle more big changes. My emotional stability comes rapidly crashing down because for goodness' sake, that is NOT how I planned it! 

At the end of February, Travis came home from work one day and told me that the Caterpillar manufacturing plant he works at (and has for five years) is shutting down at the end of the year. My whole world crumbled. On the upside, he was given plenty of time to find another job. On the downside, we're having a baby. We just bought our house. We have a wonderful community of friends. My sister just moved here last summer. I know how to get almost everywhere in Waco. We love our church. Our kids have friends here. I love HEB and don't know how to grocery shop anywhere else. I've established roots, and I don't want to pull them up ... but in the engineering world, Waco is a manufacturing town. My husband doesn't love manufacturing. He doesn't want to support an already designed process--he wants to help design the process. And to do that, we have to leave. And THAT change makes this 38 week, 4 day pregnant mama want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. But apparently the Lord wants me to learn to embrace change--all the change, all at the same time.

As of last week, Travis has accepted a new position with Caterpillar in Tucson, AZ, and we will be moving there in August.

My primary focus right now is having this baby. That's all the change I can handle right now. But in a month or so, when my precious baby girl is here, the gravity of the change will hit me. And it will hit hard. And the tears will flow and the fears will emerge...and I will have to learn how to allow change into my life gracefully. I will need to remind myself how much happier my husband will be in a job he loves. I will need to look for the positives of moving to a state I've never even been to. I will need to remind myself to be bold and make friends. But mostly, I will need to trust that the Lord has a plan for us in Tucson. It may not be where I would have chosen, but it's where HE chose, and that's what matters the most. My kids are young and resilient and desperately need me to be excited and adventurous about this change. Daddy sees and yearns for the adventure--and Mommy needs to catch the vision.

In other news...
 Our sweet baby girl will be here in two-ish weeks. Give or take. [This weekend would be great since Travis has a four day weekend--but something tells me she's not paying attention to my preferences.]
 My mom arrives in less than two weeks!
 We survived Logan and Raelyn's joint birthday party last weekend--next year we'll get to add another party to the mix!
 I've thrown all calorie caution to the wind and now eat whatever I want, whenever I want because..well, because I no longer care. 38.5 weeks, people. I'm huge. Why not embrace it at this point?
 The upside of moving is that I LOVE looking at houses. And since we've moved houses at least every two years since we got married, we now know exactly what we like in a house. Silver linings, friends!
 Our fridge is having problems. Again. Wouldn't you agree that this is the perfect time to not be able to use your fridge?

My exhaustion has definitely kicked in. And there's a chocolate pudding/cheesecake parfait (of my own creation, I might add) that's calling my name from our little mini fridge. So I'm going to wrap this up. Plus, I have to pick up the kids from their once-a-week save-my-sanity childcare in just a couple hours. My free time is running out! Have a wonderful day, Friends! :) And please pray for us as we embark on...well, a lot of change.

A September to September Recap & Reflection

I can't believe how long it has been since I last wrote. Writing was always so cathartic for me. And since I've always used this blog as more of an "anecdotal" blog, it was also a journal of sorts. I can go back and read old posts and remember little things that I had forgotten about. For that reason, I'm sad that I haven't been writing for the last [almost] year and a half. But I also know why I didn't write, and I don't know if my emotional fragility could handle reading back on this past year. There have been some wonderful things about this year--moving to a new house, our three week Christmas trip back to Indonesia, Raelyn's first and Logan's third birthdays, my parents coming to the states for their six month furlough--but in the whole scheme of things, this year has been the hardest year. Period. I feel like I've been such an emotional mess this week. I don't have any wonderful explanation except that tomorrow marks one year since we began this heartbreaking, faith-shaking, emotionally-draining, challenging, growing year. I have desperately asked the Lord to allow tomorrow to reset things. A new year. A new, wonderful year.

One year ago [tomorrow], we went in for (what we expected to be) a quick appointment with Raelyn's cardiologist. We knew she had two holes in her heart, but the holes were small. They were not going to be problematic. Or at least, they shouldn't have been. But at that appointment, the cardiologist told us that Raelyn's heart was retaining fluid, so she needed to start two heart medications. I was worried, but hopeful. The medications would fix everything, and we would be home free. But instead, the medication caused Raelyn to lose weight over the next five weeks. It helped her heart but otherwise, was causing a whole new batch of problems. At her one month follow-up five weeks later, she had lost a whole pound (which means a lot more to a five-and-a-half month old than to most) and we were immediately sent to a children's hospital about 45 minutes away. They discovered that she simply wasn't eating enough. She had no motivation to eat. She would nurse for five minutes and be done, only having gotten an ounce of milk when she needed to be eating at least four ounces at each feeding. After a miraculous three ounce gain during her hospital stay, we went home... only to have to drive to the children's hospital once a week in addition to almost daily weight checks at her pediatrician's office here in town. After four weeks, she had lost a few ounces again, and she had to be admitted to have an NG tube placed. I had been feeding her around the clock. My entire focus day in and day out was getting. her. to. eat. And I had failed. I was emotionally wrecked and barely holding it all together.

She started gaining weight pretty well for the first few days (doubling your food intake will do that), but then on a trip up north (where it was very cold), she caught a bad cough. Between the cough and the tube in her throat, she started throwing up everything she was eating and losing the weight she had gained. When we got home, I quickly found that nursing, pumping, tube feeding, washing pump parts, and keeping my other child alive was more than I could manage on my own. I tearfully begged my sister to come stay with me for a few days (ahem, a week, at least), and she was an angel and did. We also had a trip to Houston to meet with another cardiologist and a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon, while both my sisters kept Logan at home. I went to Houston fairly certain that we were going to be scheduling open-heart surgery for our 7.5 month old, and I was terrified. The feeding tube was helping her gain weight, but very slowly. It didn't make any sense. By some miracle, we were scheduled to see the head of the cardiology department at the 2nd ranked pediatric cardiology/cardiothoracic surgery hospital in the country. And guess what?! He did NOT recommend surgery. On the medication, her heart was functioning as it should, though the holes were both still there. He recommended weaning her off the medication and FOR THE FIRST TIME told us that the medication, in very rare cases, can cause weight loss. (I'm no doctor... but that's what I had been saying from the beginning.) The surgeon we met with said Raelyn would have to twist their arms a bit more before they would do surgery. (Music to my ears!) And he very graciously said, "I hope I never have to see you again." From your mouth to God's ears, Doctor. Long story short, we went to Indonesia for three weeks. We gradually weaned Raelyn off her medications. When she pulled her feeding tube out for the millionth time the day before we saw her cardiologist again in January, we left it out and asked if we could go without it. Once she was off the medications and eating on her own, she gradually started gaining weight really, really well. By her first birthday, she had moved up to the 50th percentile on the growth charts (after dropping to the 10th from her original 78th percentile), eating more than we thought possible. Hundreds and hundreds of people had been praying for us for months. It was incredible to see the answered prayers. She saw her cardiologist again at the end of June and, praise the Lord, we don't have to go back for another cardiology appointment until next June! While some aspects of Raelyn's health still feel "on hold," we have thoroughly enjoyed seeing our precious little girl growing, developing, talking, eating, eating, and eating. But let me tell you... it was a long, painful year. And I'm so eternally grateful to be on the other side of it.

But then, as if all of that wasn't enough to warrant the "worst year ever" title, at approximately 12 weeks pregnant this past August, we found out that I had experienced a "missed miscarriage." Since the baby was only measuring six weeks behind and I was showing no signs of miscarrying on my own, I wasn't sure how long it would take my morning sickness ravaged body to actually recognize that the baby wasn't OK. And my sweet Logan kept asking me about the baby in my tummy, and it was too hard. I had a D&C (only because I was able to be under general anesthesia) and started the healing, grieving process without a baby inside of me. And it's been hard sometimes. I think everyone in the world is having a baby in February.

But in the midst of all these trials...God is the Master Author. I don't think I know what I learned through all of this that He couldn't have taught me in a much less painful way, but He does. And hopefully, someday I will too. (I often remind myself of the song "Diamonds" that says, "He's refining in His timing, He's making diamonds out of us." I sure hope I'm becoming diamond-like.) I have seen small glimmers of the positives that have come from this year. My time spent in hospitals and with a feeding tube and having medical equipment mailed to me every month...it really changed my perspective. There's a whole world of people experiencing similar things (and so much worse), and I'm not sure I had ever given them a second thought before all of this. It's still hard for me to hear about infants and children going through these types of medical issues (it's still so raw), but I'm now aware of it. And someday, I hope I'll figure out what to do with that. But my goodness, so many people reached out to us and offered help and encouragement and advice. I learned the amazing value of community. I learned to rejoice over so many little milestones. Raelyn now has a big ol' tummy, and I couldn't be happier about it. If you saw her, you would never know she has a heart defect. And THAT is so wonderful. My son sees pictures of Raelyn with her feeding tube and asks what it is. He never once did that when she had it--he didn't even seem to notice it! Logan spent most days with different friends (wonderful, kind people), and never seemed to feel like I was neglecting him. The Lord was faithful in bringing both my kids through a very hard, emotional time--though they both seemed unaffected. On the days when I felt like I just couldn't do it all over again, He did it through me. Even when I was yelling, telling God how unfair it was that my daughter was on the path to needing open-heart surgery...he was still there. I was carrying the burden of all of it--her eating, her weight loss. I was researching everything about pediatric heart surgery... and trusting God to do nothing. I don't have an amazing "aha" moment story where I let go and watched God come through right as I let go. But you know what? He came through anyway. He took my tiny mustard seed of faith and said, "That's enough." And that's amazing! A song came out in early spring (after the feeding tube was gone and she was gaining weight well) that says, "They say it only takes a little faith to move a mountain. Well, good thing. A little faith is all I have right now. God when you choose to make mountains unmovable, give me the strength to be able to say 'it is well with my soul.' I know you're able, and I know you can save through the fire with your mighty hand. But even if you don't, my hope is you alone." And every day I thank the Lord that he moved our mountain. But I hope and pray that if He hadn't, I would still be saying, "It is well with my soul."

Someday, I hope to feel another precious child kicking inside me (a feeling I ALWAYS took for granted). But until that day comes (and if that day comes), I have two living, breathing children that I love immeasurably more than I can put into words here. And even though a small part of my heart aches to think of it, if the Lord chooses to make this particular mountain unmovable, I'm ready to say that this is enough. I've been blessed beyond all measure, even without another child. My children keep me busy, keep me entertained, and fill my days to the brim with joy. (Most days...hah!) I still hope that's not my story, but it was an important step in my grieving process to focus on what I do have, instead of focusing on what I don't have. And being content in that.

But tomorrow starts a new year. Hopefully one full of healthy children, happy memories, and lots of laughter. [Because there are few sounds better than baby and toddler giggles.]

Mommy Confessions: The Dark Side

In the two and a half months since I last wrote, my daughter was born, my parents have come to the states and gone back home, my sister got married, my son turned two, and my daily life has become entirely unpredictable and chaotic (at times). While the months leading up to my precious baby's birth felt endless--especially the last four weeks--the weeks since her birth (seven, by the way) have been a complete whirlwind. Seven weeks have never gone by faster. But in those seven weeks, I've discovered something about myself: I don't like newborns. Now don't take that the wrong way. I love my baby girl. I absolutely love her. But I absolutely can't stand the newborn phase. And I'll be honest, Raelyn isn't a super difficult baby. She actually sleeps very well at night and overall, is a pretty relaxed, calm baby. And quite honestly, my feelings have far less to do with her and more to do with newborns in general. So let's take a little walk through my anti-newborn feelings, shall we? I know you're excited.

• There's no consistency. I don't necessarily need every hour scheduled, but it's really hard to keep a toddler entertained without ever leaving the house because the baby needs a nap every 45 minutes. Except for, you know, TV. Which, believe me, Logan has watched in great abundance. Hours. Every day. Mommy of the year, right here. 
• You can't reason with a newborn. As I'm typing this, my dear husband is driving around with Raelyn because she was screaming bloody murder. She decided not to take her usual long (2 to 3 hour) afternoon nap, so she was overtired. But instead of staying calm and nursing or enjoying the swaying of her swing, she was just screaming. Red faced, nothing would calm her down screaming. And since Travis offered to pick up my fifth antibiotic since giving birth (more on that momentarily), he said he'd take her with him and see if she'd sleep in the car or Ergo carrier in the store. Since he's not home yet, I assume it's working. [Nobody wants to walk around a store or drive endlessly with a screaming infant. Even my chill, nothing gets him rattled, husband.] I've become so accustomed to reasoning with Logan (not that it always works, but sometimes it does) when he cries, that it's hard to remember that Raelyn doesn't understand anything I say. 
• My body hates postpartum. I had mastitis (a breast infection, just in case you didn't know) three times with Logan. It was excruciatingly painful and took me until six weeks postpartum to feel better. It felt like an eternity. So this time, I was convinced that I knew what to do differently. I knew how to nurse and pump and heal any nipple cracks--everything was going to be fine. Then one week in, I saw the first signs of mastitis. Redness and heat. Called the doctor, got on an antibiotic, and the redness and heat went away in a couple days. I knew--I just knew that I'd beat mastitis this time and I was thrilled. I found a way to heal my nipple cracks by the time I was three weeks postpartum and figured I was good to go. But then my postpartum body scoffed at my over confidence. I woke up from a nap with an extremely tender hard spot on my breast that rivaled labor pains. I thought it was a clogged duct, but after nearly three days of trying to unclog it, nothing had worked. I started getting chills and fever, and saw a lactation consultant who told me to go see my doctor. I started another antibiotic and...nothing. By the end of my two weeks on the meds, nothing had changed. I was then referred to a general surgeon. He found an abscess in my breast and did a needle aspiration on it. You want to know what's worse than a needle in your spine for an epidural? That's right, a giant needle in your breast. And then I started another antibiotic only to get a call today saying that I need to switch antibiotics. I have another appointment tomorrow morning with the surgeon, and I'm hoping and praying that I don't need another aspiration.. but more than that, I don't want surgery. Did I mention that my body hates postpartum? 
• Spit up. I hate the spit up. Endless stinky spit up. Everywhere.
• Endless nursing. I feel like a cow. 
• I'm all jiggly. A big belly while you're pregnant is cute and round and expected. A jiggly, squishy belly after the baby, while perhaps expected, is no fun. 

I know I'm making new mommy-hood sound horrible. But really, all the early newborn misery is worth it. Also, my postpartum experience is not normal. According to the endless articles I've read about mastitis and abscesses, only about 10% of breastfeeding mothers get mastitis. And only 3% of those women get abscesses. So that means that in a room of 1,000 breastfeeding moms, only three will get abscesses. I'm a lightning rod for these things, but apparently most people are safe. Also, I know a lot of people that love the newborn phase. They love the sleepy, cuddly baby phase. And some babies don't spit up as much as mine do. And some mothers love the long nursing sessions. And some women are only jiggly for a week or two. Or not at all. So if you're reading this and you're either expecting a baby or plan to have one in the future and I've made it sound like the worst thing in the world, just remember that these things are mostly only true for me. I stand by my claim that newborns are inconsistent and unreasonable, but most people know that going in. Plus, Logan was actually easy to take places. He would fall asleep in the car constantly and would sleep for hours. Raelyn doesn't like her carseat, rarely falls asleep in the car, and if she does, she wakes up as soon as we stop the car. Every baby is different. Raelyn sleeps a lot at night. Three, four, almost five hours in a row sometimes. Logan didn't do that. He was an all-night nurser. Every two hours from when he started nursing. So when he nursed for half an hour, I then got to sleep for no more than an hour and a half before he wanted to eat again. 

Needless to say, I'm in the thick of it right now. I'm ready for this abscess to heal. I'm sick of taking endless medications. I want to be able to go grocery shopping again. I want Logan to watch less TV and have less tablet time. (But what's a mom to do when the baby won't sleep in the living room or anywhere near big brother because he's so incredibly loud and talks constantly? This mom turns on an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and then leaves and nurses the baby to sleep in the bedroom with the door closed, lights off, sound machine blaring, and hopes beyond all hope that her toddler isn't doing something crazy. And that he won't come in the room and wake up the baby.) 

And someday this will all end. I don't know when that day will come, but it will. I won't remember any of this. I'll just have a beautiful, healthy daughter out of it. 

Toddler Words Are Hard to Type

Blue Bell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream has made its way back into my life. I also bought some chocolate ice cream cones, so I get to eat my ice cream as if I went to an ice cream shop and paid a ton of money for one scoop of ice cream. It's entirely psychological, but it makes the ice cream taste better. It does, however, mean that I can't add the fudge sauce and strawberries and bananas I bought to go with my ice cream, so eventually I'll have to have a banana-strawberry split in a bowl. Switch things up once in a while. I could feel bad about eating ice cream everyday, but that really takes the fun out of it. Plus, ice cream is full of calcium and I'm really really terrible at getting all my calcium, so I'm actually being pretty health-conscious by guaranteeing some calcium every single day. It's for the baby. Raelyn needs lots of calcium. And chunks of cookie dough. ;)

Aside from that, I'm about to embark on a week of endless rain, no Mother's Day Out, no library Toddler Time, and absolutely no idea what I'm going to do to keep my child entertained. We can't go to the park or the zoo because of the stupid rain. We could go to a museum or an indoor play place, but I figure every single mom in the same situation as I'm in (or in an even more dire situation: more than one child!) will have the same idea and every indoor place will be packed out. So I might introduce Logan to playing in the rain at some point. I'm just dreading the inevitable "play rain" request I'll hear for the next month, regardless of whether there's actually any rain to play in, if he actually enjoys playing in the rain. But we'll see how the week goes. Maybe the rain will subside earlier than predicted and at least half our week will be salvaged. One can only hope.

Now that Logan is talking (and talking and talking and talking), I thought it was time to share some wonderful Logan Quotes with you. He's only at the two-to-three-word sentence phase, so we don't have any hysterically funny things yet, but I'm hopeful they'll come soon.

• The other day, Logan asked for a snack of cheese and crackers. I sliced three slices of cheddar cheese and gave him five crackers. He devoured the crackers and ate one slice of cheese. Then he gave me a slice of cheese. Then he picked up the last piece of cheese, threw it on the carpet, and said, "Walk cheese." For some very odd reason, my 21 month old son wanted to walk on his cheese. I don't even know where he could have come up with such an idea. But since he had thoughtfully announced his intentions, I was able to rescue the cheese before he mashed it into our area rug. 
• "Mommy floor" (which sounds more like "mommy war") is his all time favorite request all. day. long. Big pregnant mommy isn't allowed to sit on the couch. No, no. I get to sit on the floor while Logan plays with his toys the same way he'd play with them if I were on the couch. You want to know the worst part? Trying to get up off the floor multiple times a day. My very thoughtful husband thought he could simply help pull me to my feet. But no. No, when you're pregnant (at least, when you're me and pregnant) you have to get on your hands and knees and then step with one foot, using that first leg as a pushing off point for the rest of you, before finally ending up on your feet. If that sounds confusing and far too complicated, that's because it is. 
• Travis introduced Logan to guitars this past week. He played Old McDonald Had A Farm, so now Logan asks for "tar E-I-E" constantly. I have to remind him that Mommy doesn't play the guitar, so he'll have to wait for Daddy to get home. Travis "gave" Logan his ukulele, which Logan calls "my tar." I tried to move it the other day because it seemed like it was in the way and Logan said, "My tar no Mommy's." Well OK then. 
• Logan's word for yogurt is "ee aw." I have no idea why. I've tried to have him repeat "yo-gurt" slowly and carefully, but he always says "ee aw." And if he says "nack me," that means he wants a banana for snack. The number seven is the same word he uses for "hungry": honey. He still calls a spoon a "moo" and crackers are "dadu." However, I have hope that he'll get it eventually because he has always called a horse a "nee." Then he started saying it "neigh" and for the last few days he can officially say "horse." And "aws" was his word for any kind of sauce (BBQ, ketchup, salad dressing, applesauce). BUT, just this week, he has now differentiated between regular old sauces and applesauce! He now says, "appos aws." Woohoo! So there's hope yet for ee aw and me and dadu. :) 
• And his newest word is "dice." It took me a couple days, but I now know that dice means toys.

Typing toddler words requires way too many quotation marks and commas. Goodness gracious. Anyway, he has so many words now, I can't even keep track of all of them. The downside of his broadening vocabulary is when he gets a bit too confident that we can understand him, so he starts jabbering on in absolute gibberish and then, when I can't understand him,  dramatically covers his face with his hands and flops on the ground. For a few days he would also mash his face into the floor, but he kept getting dog fur in his mouth, so he revised his dramatic "my parents don't understand me" routine. Seemed like a smart move to me. 

As for an ever-lovely pregnancy update, I sometimes pee four times an hour. Sometimes I can make it two hours, but that's only if I don't stand up and Raelyn doesn't kick my bladder. My ample bathroom visits, however, have given Logan plenty of time to learn how to climb in and out of the bathtub. My arms and legs and, let's be honest, my entire body is very achy most of the time. My feet don't like supporting all this extra weight, so by the end of the day (the end of the day is 7 pm, by the way) I flop onto the couch and await my daily foot massage from my incredibly sweet, wonderful husband. He's pretty awesome and basically the only reason I'm still capable of walking. Other than all the physical ailments, I've now started nesting a bit. I convinced Travis to let me get a nice rocker recliner for Raelyn's room, and will probably live in that chair a couple months from now. We painted her room a wonderfully relaxing shade of grey and I've cleaned a few doors and baseboards. Travis is going to build a changing table/dresser and very soon I'll be adding light pink touches to my baby girl's room. I'm embracing the girly-ness wholeheartedly--and I really like light pink. :) 

Alright, that pretty much does it. My son is slowly waking up and he's super cute when he's just woken up from his nap. (Assuming he took a nice long nap and is fully well-rested, of course.)

Babies and Toddlers and Giant Bellies and Sweet Tea

I cut my nails yesterday. Once I cut my nails, I love typing. It's just an enjoyable thing to do. I've been known to take typing speed tests online simply because I love typing. But not with long nails. They're cumbersome and slow me down. So thanks to my wonderful use of time yesterday, I'm finally writing again. Logan is napping, and I got enough sleep last night that I don't need to nap today. And since I cleaned the house yesterday, I don't need to do anything but vacuum (which takes all of ten minutes, really). Right now I'm sitting on the couch listening to the very quiet dishwasher, relishing the fact that unless I have to pee (a likely occurrence actually), I don't have to move even an inch. Oh how I hope Logan naps for a couple hours today.

My weeks have suddenly gone from long and exhausting to completely manageable and only sometimes exhausting. My incredibly sweet husband agreed to let me put Logan in a once-a-week Mother's Day Out program at a local church. Wednesdays are glorious! I drop Logan off at 9:00 am and don't have to pick him up until 2:00. That's five beautiful hours to do whatever I need to do! Yesterday I did some grocery shopping without a toddler trying to dive out of the cart; I vacuumed and mopped the kitchen/dining room/living room; I folded laundry; I cleaned the guest bathroom; and I had a wonderful lunch date with my hubby. It's our new thing. We meet at a restaurant on Wednesdays and enjoy a very nice lunch date. Every week!! No toddler running around the restaurant... no toddler screaming to get out of his high chair... I'd forgotten how relaxing and enjoyable eating out can be. (Don't get me wrong. Occasionally Logan is wonderful at restaurants... but he has to be really hungry and not tired. And at lunch time, that's highly unlikely.) So needless to say, my weeks have improved immensely since Logan started MDO. Next week I have a prenatal appointment right after I drop him off. I'm so glad I get to go to appointments by myself now! I really should be an MDO spokesperson. Especially for pregnant Mamas that have frequent doctor's appointments. No one wants to take an impatient, high energy toddler along for those ever-exciting prenatal appointments. I could probably go on for hours about how wonderful Wednesdays are, but I think you get the picture. I'll move on.

We found out this month that we are having a baby girl: Raelyn Abigail. Even though I had insisted that I had no inkling as to what we were having this time around, I think deep down I was expecting another boy. So when the ultrasound tech said it was most assuredly a girl, I was pretty shocked. Travis was more shocked than I was. Hah! I don't think he knew what to say or think after that. We're excited, of course, but I think we thought it'd be a lot of fun for Logan to have a little brother to play with. That's not to say he can't have fun with a little sister, but I think it goes without saying that boys and girls are pretty different. ;) I was a puzzle-doing, book-reading, doll-playing kind of girl. So if Raelyn is anything like me, she's not going to be all that interested in climbing and throwing balls and building endless towers (and then taking them apart/knocking them over) as Logan is. But we'll see what happens. Maybe she'll think her big brother is so cool that she'll want to do everything he does. :) I have to admit, I'm having a lot of fun planning a baby girl's nursery. I'm not much for doing nursery themes, but I love feminine colors and such. I didn't really get to do much for Logan's nursery since we didn't even move into our house until two weeks after he was born. At that point, I didn't care much what the nursery looked like as long as it had what I needed. We added some decorations (and when I say "we" I mean my mom and Travis) over the next few months and now it looks pretty cute, but I had very little to do with it. I picked out the color of the walls. And that's it. So this time around, I'm excited to have a (hopefully) ready-to-go pretty nursery for my baby girl.

Someone asked me how much longer I have in my pregnancy yesterday. I told her 13 weeks. She thought I was almost finished. That should tell you how much bigger I am this time around. I looked at my bump pictures from last time and I was about the same size I am now (at 27 weeks) at 36 weeks or so last time. I've already gained as much weight as I did the whole 40 weeks with Logan. I'm gaining more on other parts of my body--my hips getting the worst of it, I think. I don't know what to do about it except try to go on walks with Logan or something. The extra weight is making my feet ache so quickly though. I dread my weigh-ins. My doctor doesn't seem concerned and all my maternity clothes from last time (except for one pair of jeans) still fit, so I'm trying not to stress too much about my rapidly growing self. But this, my friends, is why there aren't frequent bump pictures this time around. Now I completely understand why bump pictures tend to happen during a woman's first pregnancy... and then not again. I don't feel cute. I just feel large. Hah. But as much as I look forward to not being pregnant and getting to lose this extra weight, I'm genuinely enjoying my time with Logan, one-on-one. He just switched from "mama" and "dada" to "mommy" and "daddy," and it's so cute! I didn't know that happened so early! :) He's learning so many words all the time, and it's amazing to hear his vocabulary broaden each week!

Every day I have to resist the urge to buy a gallon of McAlister's sweet tea. I'm addicted. I've tried making it at home, but they must use some kind of special blend because my tea is never as good. No matter what. Ah, my baby boy is awake. Break time is over. And the vacuuming didn't happen. Oh well.