Win/Lose

Leif, sprawling on Cordy, with Murphy looking on.

I am tired. Yesterday, my wee son got a prickly heat rash, and I let him crawl around naked most of the day. (It wasn't even all that hot, so I don't get it.) He has been struggling at bed time to just go to sleep, fighting us to stay awake. I have been wishing for more me time so that I could have just nothing to do. It doesn't seem to be a possibility yet. With crawling comes putting himself into small spaces, awkward locations and precarious spots. I feel like I can't even blink some days. I have to keep saving him from toppling over onto the weight set, or poking his fingers into sockets. I also have to save the dog from having his eyelids pulled off. Thank God for having a ridiculously good dog. The poor guy has lost handfuls of hair recently, and so far he hasn't batted an eye. I know how to raise a good dog.

Last night was hard. Between a very bright moon, a warm night and a sleepless baby, I spent a lot of the night struggling to sleep. I hate not being able to squish down into my bed and just sleep. I was sweaty, crowded by a restless baby, and uncomfortable. I am still getting over the pelvic pains that I had during pregnancy. Some nights are good, some not so good. Last night was one of those nights where I needed a lot of support from pillows, making me even more crowded and sweaty.

Finally, I just surrendered. I put baby in his bed, and told Hubby to go deal with him. I heard Hubbs shushing the baby and after a while, he came back to bed. I got a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. It was glorious. Later, early in the morning, baby woke up again, and Hubby tried to put him back to sleep again, but then I heard a call, "Kate? Can you feed him? He's hungry...." So baby came back to bed, and I was treated to an early morning wake up by a mouth full of razor-sharp baby teeth. Lovely.

Hubby got up, and offered to take the baby once he was done eating. Baby had other plans. He wanted to be wide awake, so I decided to get up as well, and check on his rash. He looks much better this morning. Then I was treated to a nice breakfast and lovely conversation. Sometimes when you lose, you win.

Never stop moving forward, forward into the fray.

Never stop moving forward, forward into the fray. Believe in your own ability to be fierce, and hold fast in your strength. You are the master of your destiny. You know your own heart better than anyone except God. No one can tell you how to love or be loved. Be brave because it is good for you, and good for other's to see, too. Inspire with your actions and words, and try to be bigger and better than you actually are.

And maybe, just maybe, you will make an unexpected friend in a situation that surprised you.

Good job, you.

Dear Baby-

Dear Tonka Truck-
You inspire me. Today was the first day that I actually wanted to workout. Yes, it's true. For the last month, I have been dragging my feet a lot. I have been having a hard time finishing workouts because of you, little man. You are needy. I don't hold that against you. You are a baby. You have needs. But I can't get very far with you tugging on my leg and crying. So I have struggled. I would only finish half a workout. That got me down. I would try, but I didn't feel like I was trying hard enough. I needed more.

So today, I thought I wasn't going to get to workout. The morning was a little hectic. Late morning rolled around, and I put you in the stroller and strapped on the sneakers. (Thank God for really nice jogging strollers!) We headed out around the lake, and came home with 3 miles under our belt. Not bad! But it wasn't enough. I still felt like I needed more. So we had lunch, and I curled up with you. You of course fell asleep, because it was just that time of day...nap time for a boy! And then divine inspiration struck me like a bolt of lightening: I could sit and munch on something while you slept...or I could bust a move. So I got on it.

I decided on P90X's Cardio X. It was perfect. It got my heart rate up, moved me, and left me feeling empowered. Not bad for a workout. And the great thing was that I had time to do all of that, drink some water, and type half of this before you woke up. Not bad, sweet boy. Right now we are both sprawled on the bed, you letting me tickle you and me kissing those sleepy sweet cheeks. You were so happy to see me. That made me feel even better about pushing hard and getting in better shape. You are my little light, and I want to be here for you. I never want to be a burden for you, and I never want you to look at me and say, "Mama's fat." I never want my health to keep us from doing things together. Your dad is my strength, and you are my inspiration. My boys are good for me.

Hopefully by the time you turn one, I will have lost some more weight and toned up a bit more. I have 3 months, and lots of courage. Let's see what happens. Love, love, love, little boy.

Nine Months

 My baby is nine months old! He is now 3/4 of a year old! I am so happy! This past month has been an eventful one. We have had lots of milestones that all came crashing down on us all at once, creating an emotional baby that was sometimes hard to handle! All in all though, it was really great. Here's what happened:

• We got teeth! Leif broke 3 teeth, all on the top. We are expecting a 4th tooth any day now, and still no bottom teeth in sight. Wild!
• Leif learned a few new gestures, like raising his hands to you when he wants to be picked up, flapping his arms like a bird, and putting out his hand for "no".
• He learned to crawl! It actually just happened yesterday. He doesn't go very far yet, but today he managed to get to the dog's food bowl before I knew it, and had a mouthful of dog food! I was proud of him, but he got mad because I stole his dog food! Poor guy. 
• He is interacting with other kids more and more. He is more capable and able to move around, so playing with others is getting fun. He likes story time at the Library, which we attend every week to socialize him. He is still pretty shy, so I wanted to get him out early and work on the shyness!
• He loves food, but is getting selective about what he wants. He puts his hand out when he is done with a particular kind of food. We switch to another kind, and may come back to that flavor later. Sometimes, though, he says NO to certain stuff!
• He adores the dogs. He laughs so hard when we put him on their back. We have to watch him, though, because he will pull out their ear hair. They don't like that.
• He has been having a hard time with sleeping. We are still trying to transition him into his own bed, but are struggling a little. He hates his crib, and sometimes he just wont stop crying. I am tired, so I will take him to bed with me. Not sure how to break this habit yet....
• No words yet, but he babbles a lot. He also makes a series of growls and grunts that are hilarious. Adam and I love to listen to him. 
• He is still in 9-12 month clothes. He is getting longer, but not gaining a ton of weight elsewhere. He is one tall baby, though!
• He still hasn't had a cold yet. (Fingers crossed!) We have given him Tylenol for teething pain once, but other than that, we have been able to manage it with teething tablets. Not bad!

We are excited to have a nine month old. With teeth and crawling comes a whole new stage. I am pretty happy. I know I have some things I need to baby proof, but otherwise, I think we are doing ok! Life with Leif is awesome. We sometimes look at each other and have a hard time remembering life without him. We so enjoy him, and all of his antics and quirks. He is a loveable, sweet little guy.

Dog Days

Last night the lazy air was just right. It was half light, and we were down by the river. The dogs leapfrogged each other in their eagerness to get to the water. The rocks were caught in a spray, and changed from dry to soaked in a matter of moments. We stood and looked out over a still pool caught right before the rapids. The ripples caught the light from the fading sun, and the water was black and orange. We threw a weathered stick for Cordy. He would bound out into the water until his feet left the rocks, and then he would paddle swiftly, huffing water out of his cheeks as he sped into the current. He would catch his stick, and then flip his tail through the air to change direction, turning for the shore. The water would pour from his shortened coat and he would pant and puff, all while Murphy was whining and crying about the anxiety of him leaving solid ground.

The baby could not be left on the shore, as he was selecting pebbles and putting them in his mouth. Instead, he was held, swinging him legs and flapping his arms every time the stick was brought back. The coolness of the air was just right, and his skin was perfect. He watched with the seriousness of an owl, not making a peep as he watched the stick arch through the air.

The sky was lit with that perfect light that brings out freckles but hides imperfection; makes your hair seem flawless and your teeth brighter. We were beautiful in that fading light, although the bugs nipping at our skin did little for us. We chose to walk more, so try to keep ahead of them. It was futile, but we got our hearts beating.

Our sweet son fell asleep in the stroller, rocked by the motion over the rocks. He sat there in the front hall, sleeping, until we heard a small peep and went to scoop him up and put him in pajamas. He stayed awake for a long time, calm but with wide eyes and listening ears. He listened to our voices until he simply could not keep his eyes open, and drifted off. I put his tightly wrapped self into his bed and curled up with Hubby, content in the knowledge that my family was safe under one roof.

Lovely.

Last week's wrapup and taking on this week.

 Last week was tough. I started a new sleep routine with Leif, and it's working. Thank God, because I need some sleep. Hubby commented that there hasn't been much that has shaken me about being a mom until now. A lack of sleep was really getting to me. But luckily, the new sleep training has really helped and little man is still getting food at night, but in a much more balanced way, and I am getting a decent amount of sleep. Awesome.

Last week's workouts were rough, too. Because Leif was having such a hard time with his first tooth, he wasn't letting me get very far. I didn't have nearly the kind of weight loss I wanted. I lost about a pound, but no more. That kinda bummed me out, and I got a little down, but then I remembered that since I moved away from Salt Lake, I have lost 20 lbs, and that made me feel fantastic. Between Hubby and I, we have lost 70 lbs. WOW. I got to workout with Hubby over the weekend, and it felt great. We did the Kenpo workout, and it rocked. We workout well together sometimes, helping each other get through the tough stuff.

Yesterday Hubby was having a hard day. His grandpa died the day before, and I think the emotions caught up with him a little, and he was edgy. We struggled a little, especially since on top of the emotions, we have a lot on our minds. We have some things we are working to overcome, and it is a slow process of building each other up in preparation. Not easy, but necessary. I think we did ok, though. We have each other, and that's what counts.

This week will be a short week. We will be heading up to SLC for a funeral, and so that throws us a little off kilter, but we will manage. It's not easy to troop around a city seeing lots of people and dealing with lots of situations, especially when you don't have everything with you and a baby on hand. But we always manage. Sometimes it requires veering into a Starbucks, but hey, ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

I have all sorts of things to do this week. I have a ton of prep to do for this summer, and I am about to go through another massive "junk elimination" here at our house. I feel the urge to get rid of unnecessary baby stuff, old clothes we don't wear often, pot or pans that never get use...I need to streamline. Hubbs and I eliminated a bunch of books the last time we moved, so that helped. This time, its gonna be clothes, crafting stuff and baby stuff going. I love it.

Quietly

Yesterday a quiet man slipped away. He went quietly, and he was quietly missed. We all felt the loss, and the missing space where he quietly resided in our heart echos in its emptiness. We quietly missed him together.

Yesterday, on Armed Forces Day, Hubby's grandfather died in his home with his family nearby. He had been slipping away for some time now, and we all knew it would be soon. We were not surprised by the news, but we didn't expect the feelings that came with it. A simple quiet loss. Nothing dramatic, but significant. Quiet.

I first met this sweet old man when my Hubby took me to dinner at his grandparent's house for dinner. I knew it was awkward for them, as I was a new presence after a my husband's divorce. They knew nothing about me, and they didn't know what to expect. So, quietly, I smiled and let them know me. Hubby's Grandpa was kind and welcoming. The four of us would play card games on Saturday nights after dinner, and sometimes Grandpa would need help remembering the rules of the game. I would help him stay in the game. He never seemed frustrated or bothered, just a little lost. He would make me laugh in the way he would keep chugging along in the game, gently holding his cards in his hand.

We would keep playing on Saturday nights, and we would watch him become less and less aware of his surroundings. Then we moved away, and when we would come back to visit, it would be painfully noticeable to us that more had slipped away. Every time he would say a little less. Every visit we he would sleep in his chair a little longer. He reminded me of a tree in hibernation. Sometimes he would pop back for a second, and we would be surprised at some memory that he had.

The last time we saw him, he was in bed. He had stopped getting up so much anymore. He had lost so much weight, and was weak. We went in to say goodbye to him, as we were leaving. I sat the baby on the bed with him, and he held out his hand and played with those pudgy baby fingers, watching with bright eyes. It was the most alert I had seen him in a long time. We chatted with him for some time. He seemed to know us, and he watched Leif play with his fingers. I loved watching them. I had a feeling it was our last goodbye. I took a picture to remember it. Turns out it was the last picture I took of him.

Stan Sharp has gone Northside. He will be missed.

Be Brave, My Heart

 “But suppose your dæmon settles in a shape you don't like?

Well, then, you're discontented, en't you? There's plenty of folk as'd like to have a lion as a dæmon and they end up with a poodle. And till they learn to be satisfied with what they are, they're going to be fretful about it. Waste of feeling, that is.

But it didn't seem to Lyra that she would ever grow up.” 

-The Golden Compass, by Philip Pullman

I am not discontented.  I think I used to be. I think I used to wish I was a fine French Trotter, when in fact I am a well-built Highland horse. I am content with who I am now. Maybe I wont be next year, but I think for now I love who I am. I think pregnancy made me realize what an amazing thing I really am. I think the fact that my husband loves my body makes me feel like perfection. I don't think I waste my feelings on worrying about what my body is.

Today, I am comfortably dressed because I am caring for my baby and another baby, and I will spend a lot of time on the floor. Comfortable stretchy pants, thick socks, a sweater and a ponytail. I am also kinda comfortable in my exhaustion. I slept one hour last night. Just one, somewhere between 3 and 4 am. I will admit that last night was a bit of a waste of feeling. I have a teething, sleep deprived baby, and so I am also sleep deprived. But I am also dealing with a lot on my mind, so that is exhausting. I am trying to be brave, and sometimes that requires me to relinquish a bit of control to the universe. When I am unwilling, I don't sleep. Lat night was hard. It was also good for me. I know what I have to do, and so I just have to do it. Simple.

The hard part is being brave.

Overcast Day

It's just one of those days. I am tired. I am tired because my son sprouted a tooth last night, and left me sorely lacking in sleep. I'm tired because I'm on week two of P90X, and I feel like I'm lacking in calories. I'm tired because it's a coldish windy cloudy day, and I wanted to go for a walk, but I don't want to get caught in the rain with baby. So we will stay home. Maybe I will have some tea.

I'm not perfect. I have a sunburn on my shoulders, and I look like I'm wearing a tank top even when I'm naked. I have hair that is about 2 feet long....except where the baby hairs are taking over. It is creating a halo of fuzz all over my hair. I kinda hate it. I need a haircut. I picked at a cut on my finger, and now its all shredded, terrible and sore. Sometimes I can't resist.

It is all quiet on the western front, and I am bored senseless. The only things I have to do is clean or sit here, and I don't want to clean. I do that every day, and today I don't feel like it. So I'm just not going to.

I read this blogger today, and wanted to cry. She has tried so hard for so long, and lost again. All I could do is hug my baby and send good thoughts to her. Sometimes the good people get the worst luck. Sometimes the best, most caring parents don't have children, and the people with kids don't want to be around theirs.

I read this poem today, and it felt right:
People Who Live- Erica Jong

People who live by the sea
understand eternity.
They copy the curves of the waves,
their hearts beat with the tides,
& the saltiness of their blood
corresponds with the sea.

They know that the house of flesh
is only a sandcastle
built on the shore,
that skin breaks
under the waves
like sand under the soles
of the first walker on the beach
when the tide recedes.

Each of us walks there once,
watching the bubbles
rise up through the sand
like ascending souls,
tracing the line of the foam,
drawing our index fingers
along the horizon
pointing home.

Today is just one of those days. I am going to make some tea. Some warm peach tea, and sit and read while baby plays at my feet. I am going to put on a warm sweater, and try to cheer up, and later my hubby will be home to scoop me up in his arms and then everything will be alright. It's just one of those days.


 

Being Tough, No Matter What

Being tough is hard. (Of course it is.)
Being tough for yourself is harder. (Why? Because no one is watching)
Being tough for someone you love is easier, though. I know because I do it, and I know that I can outlast myself being tough for me. (But why? Why is it easier?)
Because you want the best for that person you are being tough for. For example.......

Baby has teeth. Baby has 3 new teeth, only they are so new they aren't all the way through. They are pushing, tearing open those soft pink gums and making him tired and worried. I can remember when my wisdom teeth came in. It was months of random headaches, aches and pains, whimpering at my own pressures. Baby has a whole mouthful of newbie teeth, and three of them are trying to see the light. But somehow, through the hours of holding him while he cries and doing my best to sooth him, I don't falter. I refuse to fail. I will continue being tough because I love him. (Sometimes late at night I will cry, though, simply because being tough for myself was catching up on me, and I had to subdue my own drive to give up on myself.)

But being tough for yourself is harder. You have to have a reason, and sometimes that reason doesn't sound so good, even when other's agree, or when the reason seems really sound. It always feels like a doubt is just around the corner, waiting to snag you. So here it is: Tell yourself you can do it every single day. Be the strength that you want to be. Don't give up. You wont ever have any regrets if you do your best.

And breathe. (Why? Because oxygen gets to your brain, increasing you ability to think, also giving you time to reason. Good all around suggestion, I say.)