Tuesday, July 23, 2013

A Mixed Bag

It's been a mixed bag of emotions the last two weeks with both high and low moments...

Week 1

Transition from MOM TO 2 to MOM TO 3 has been more emotional than I expected.  I was warned, though.  While I'm beyond grateful and appreciative of the help I've received around the house, and more importantly, in caring for the boys and keeping them happy, busy, and occupied (ah hem, thank you, grandparents!!!), I     miss     them. It's the main reason the hormonal tears start to flow.  And then not stop.  Sorry to neighbor down the street who witnessed an out-of-the-blue meltdown recently and thank you for understanding.  Ironically enough, I'll probably WANT someone to take them in a few weeks when I can't seem to juggle all the little people in my life.  Go figure:)  

In the meantime, while I'm getting to know, caring for, and loving on this:
Tiny dancer?

I also wish I could be with them capturing this:

Fun with Oma and Opa!

And while I know not everyday has to be filled with 'enjoy every minute' moments, I'm tempted to hang this in the playroom as my own personal reminder.  That, or the sign that reads, "Keep calm and carry on."  Both are appropriate.

from Sweet Blossom Gifts
Week 2

At last week's close Gavin asked for Mommy time.  He actually requested it.  In the midst of being OBSESSED with all things Daddy, he asked for time with me.  Heart melts.  We're all missing our old normal, but also adjusting quite nicely to our new.  For my own sake, I want to remember what life looks like in these early days:

It's awesome meals dropped off by awesome friends and family.

It's realizing that my first babies all of a sudden look huge...I swear their hands and feet look bigger and their bodies grew taller and heavier in a matter of days.

It's coordinating play dates with friends who don't mind chaos, who don't mind helping my big boys across the monkey bars and putting them onto the swing while I'm still unable to lift them (thank you c-section), who don't mind eating leftovers for dinner, who don't mind lots of noise, who don't mind that I nurse uncovered in my backyard.

It's filling our days with a few less outings, slowing down, and instead doing things like walking around the neighborhood, spotting a digger truck, inspecting a dump truck, driving the power wheels Jeep, and taking advantage of a blocked-off road for some quality puddle jumping.

I couldn't resist.
It's text messages to girlfriends that read, "There is laundry, gift bags, a Boppy pillow, 2 dirty diapers, Butt Paste, boob pads, a nursing bra, a shirt, and ice packs scattered on my bed around me.  And a sleeping baby on my chest:)"

It's appreciating a sleepover at Oma and Opa's for the boys, which lead to an impromptu date night for Joe and I with a sleeping baby in tow.  Our time was leisurely, the wine was excellent, the new baby comments were sweet.

It's asking the doctor and friends a million questions about nursing, routines, sleep patterns and finding what works for us.  My newest goal is to keep Little Lady awake slightly more so we can get some sleep at night, but despite the lack of shut eye, it's appreciating newborn snuggles and one-on-one time, which is a first for me.  Spoil a newborn?  Impossible.

It's listening to the boys chatter as they dress up Mr. Potato Head and looking forward to popsicles every afternoon on the front porch.

It means more screen time than I care to admit for the boys while I feed their sister.  But hey, practicing their letters is better than some of the crap shows on TV, and we actually haven't resorted to it as much as I'd anticipated.  Yet.  I personally love it, though, that among asking for Mickey and Blues Clues, the boys also request the news and cooking shows:)

It's enjoying a much easier recovery compared to the boys' delivery, thank goodness.It's that rock start feeling after rediscovering all that I can do with just one hand while holding a baby in the other.  And the motivation that appears after 4 uninterrupted hours of sleep.

It's a photo message that looks like this and states, "Yes, that's my 11 day old laying on a changing mat on a our cement walkway while the boys dig in the dirt...mom of the year."  That sweet (unphased) baby happens to be milk drunk because when the boys play in the infamous dirt pile it means I can sit and nurse without [much] interruption.  Win, win.  And of course, after some time in the dirt pile, turning on the sprinkler is a must.  Love.  Summer.

It's nursing on the kitchen floor while eating snack with the boys.  It's keeping Sweet Baby latched during that nursing session to also break up fights, wipe a tush, find a missing truck, and answer a phone call from the pediatrician's office.  Moms should be born with more hands.

It's appreciating the friends and grandmas who have folded my laundry, picked up a few things at the store, put away groceries, helped prep dinner, held my newborn, entertained my big boys, and been my taxi the past few days.  It's also appreciating neighbors who help fill our afternoons in the backyard and a godmother who flies into town at just the right time to provide an extra set of hands.

It's learning to move as a crew of 5 to the pool, to the airport to watch planes land and take off, and to work as a team to survive each day.  The boys have started to give their sister kisses, play her music when she cries, not sleep a minute past 6am, and have become great clean up helpers in the playroom.  

It's having an awesome husband who might get to sleep all night, but lets me have a little shut eye time in the morning, and even on a Monday got the boys out of the house by 7:30am, took them to breakfast, and kept them entertained while getting the van's oil changed.  In the meantime, I got in a catnap and a shower.

So I'd say we're hanging in fine...there are moments of brilliance and moments of madness.  Either way,
just looking at this face makes my heart explode. 

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