Merry Christmas!

still conflicted

So I started back to work a week and a half ago.   I was, of course, dreading it and plotting all kinds of ways to be able to quit and stay home and still pay our mortgage.  But then I got back to work and was immediately reminded in many ways of how much I like my job.  I think what I do is important.  I think it is fun and rewarding. I enjoy my students and my colleagues.

Zoë took to her teachers and class easily and was adjusted to taking a bottle by day 2. Here is her grinning on her 1st day.

Her teachers are fantastic and it is possible she gets more kisses at school than at home as she always seems to have lipstick on her forehead when I pick her up.

The time between picking them up and dinner and bedtime is crazy.  I run around with my hair afire, helping Jonathan on the potty, cooking dinner, rocking Zoë, feeding the dog, etc.   I feel like I don't get a chance to look anyone in the eye until they are in bed.  And that makes me sad.  As much work as it is to be at home all day, there are peaceful moments and chances to sit and snuggle or set up train sets or draw pictures.

Plus I have major baby brain.  For example, Tuesday on the drive to work I panicked that I didn't have my keys and almost turned the car around to go home to look for them.  I mix up my classes, lessons, and cannot focus on anything for more than 5 or 10seconds.  I am so grateful that I had a few weeks of lessons planned beyond my maternity leave; but I am a little nervous about when they run out and I am forced to do long range planning with my courses.  I set up a coffee pot in my classroom, but I'm not confident coffee will be enough.

So I guess at least for now, I'm still working and still conflicted about it.  I'm trying to savor every minute of Christmas break.

Potty Time!

I know you shouldn't tell people things like this, let alone publish it.  Jim thinks I am ridiculous, but when Zoë drank 3oz from a bottle 2 days in a row and I mentioned it to someone, she stopped and is back to her bottle-hating self.  So as silly as it is I do think you can jinx your luck with babies and toddlers.  Which is why it will be months before anyone knows when Zoë first sleeps through the night.  But since I'm actually not very invested in this milestone- I'm making an exception. 

Last Monday, Jonathan decided that it was time for potty training.  We've been talking about it a lot for the past few months and he knows the deal- pee in the potty gets you 1 M&M; poop gets you 2 M&Ms.  We haven't used pull-ups or big boy underwear.  Occasionally he'd try to pee in the potty- but not on a regular basis.

Honestly, I've been putting it off.  I am just not convinced that diapers are not way more convenient than having to find a bathroom in the mall or at the playground or clean up accidents in big boy underwear in the car.  But Jonathan came home from school  and announced that he NEEDED to wear underwear in that tone of voice where a 2 1/2 year old means business.   So I sighed and gave in.  I made him wear a diaper for naptime, but when he woke up we broke out the undies.

Thankfully he really was ready because I didn't really have the patience to play extra games this week and I certainly didn't have the energy to clean up extra messes and do more loads of laundry (Zoë makes quite enough work in those two areas herself).  We had 2 accidents on Monday (one while he was on Daddy's shoulders- ha ha ha), but he peed and pooped in the potty and the rest of the week and weekend we were accident free!  We sent him to school this week with his undies- and no accidents yet!  He is pretty good at getting his pants on and off by himself and I think despite my grumblings and new stress about taking him out in public, we are on the way to having a potty trained little guy!

exercising

Jonathan continues to argue about simply everything. He also has a rudimentary understanding of the concept of exercise.  To his mind it is something that is characterized by people doing odd things but is also a decidedly good thing.  The following exchange is a pretty good example of talking to him lately is like:

Jonathan: Can I drop this?  (referring to a Christmas ornament)
Daddy: No honey, it would break.
Jonathan: But I want it to break.
Daddy: Why do you want it to break?
Jonathan: Because I need some exercising.

Hilarious, yet exasperating.

Zoë at 2 months

Time flies.  Zoë is already 2 months old (and I am 2 weeks late with this post).  And that means that we are 2/3 of the way through the 4th trimester!  Hurrah!!  I hate to will time to pass, but the first three months are just tough.  We are all exhausted and everything still feels like it is in flux and not quite in a rhythm yet.  But little by little we are getting there with some predictability around bedtime and naps.  Jonathan is settling into the idea of a little sister and taking ownership of his role as a big brother.  He giggles when she toots at the dinner table and loves to give her baths and kiss the top of her head.  And in the mean time I am trying to treasure every moment of the last few weeks of my maternity leave.

So, here is Zoë at two months old.  She still has the most amazing big blue eyes

and as her bright little personality emerges more and more, I just can't wait to see the little girl she becomes.

 

Our big accomplishments this month?  Smiling, cooing and beginning to babble.  Zoë has the most beautiful smile ever.  It is, of course, nearly impossible to capture on camera at all- let alone capture the way her eyes sparkle and make your heart melt.

As soon as she focuses her big blue eyes on you and sees that you are looking at her, her face lights up in the most stunning baby smile and she immediately starts cooing and gurgling and bobbing her head like she is saying something terribly important.  I. Love. It.   She was upstairs during story time with  Jonathan tonight and throughout she was smiling and cooing at Jonathan which made him giggle and then start cooing back at her.  The whole thing brought tears to my eyes and made me so thankful for these two beautiful souls that are in my care.  And then, within seconds, Jonathan had a tantrum about whether to read 2 or 3 books and Zoë vomited down my shirt.  But those beautiful moments amid the chaos of normal life are enough.

PS: Thanks to my friend Sarah Day for these great pictures!!

bribery

Typically getting Jonathan dressed and out the door in the morning takes a bit of wheeling and dealing and an extra dose of patience. But today he made me laugh.

Mommy: Ok buddy, time to get dressed.
Jonathan: No!
Mommy: You already picked out your shirt, let's get ready for school
Jonathan: No, I need an M&M.
Mommy: I don't have any M&Ms. (lie)
Jonathan: No, I need a pretend M&M.
Mommy: You can have a pretend M&M if you put your shirt and pants on.
Jonathan: OK!!

This tactic worked for shirt, pants, socks, shoes, jacket, backpack and getting in the car. If only bribery was always going to be so easy!!

change of pace

Jonathan's favorite thing right now is garbage trucks.  And when a two and a half year old has a favorite thing, it means that it will permeate everything they do.  For example, during breakfast he will start insisting that his spoon is a trash can as he is dumping his oatmeal into his mouth (the trash truck).  We watch videos on youtube of real trash trucks and of other children playing with toy trash trucks (I'm actually becoming quite fond of the little song, but Daddy finds it less fascinating).

He has commandeered three of my plastic flower pots and deemed them trash cans.  He fills them with toys and then dumps them into a large cardboard box- the trash truck- again, and again, and again.  This game has completely engaged him for 90% of his waking hours now going on three weeks.  And while it has endless fascination to him, playing it in 4 hour stretches day after day after day is making Mommy and Daddy go a little bit crazy.

So yesterday I decided that during nap-time I would take action.  Stealing an idea from one of my favorite mommy blogs, I hid the flowerpots and the box and instead set out a big wad of play-dough and little bowls filled with fall leaves, dry pasta, glass pebbles, and pieces of shells we collected at the beach.

The idea was to use these prompts to create some mixed-media sculpture.  And the goal was to have some time dedicated to playing together with him in a creative way that we both enjoyed.

So when I got him up from his nap, I told him I had a surprise downstairs to play with.  He loves surprises and was so full of anticipation that I could barely change his diaper.  And when he saw the set-up he was hooked. He spent a long time simply putting his fingers into each bowl, picking up handfuls of each and then putting them back in the bowl.  He got very upset when I tried to take anything out of the bowls or to play with the play-dough.

I tried to model some sculptures, but this usually ended in him saying "No Mommy, that is not how you play with this" and then him dis-assembling my art.

Eventually he dumped all of the bowls out onto the table and then spent time sorting all of the items back into their proper bowls.

  

He never did get into the idea of sculpting with the play-dough or sticking stuff into it; but he did a lot of sorting.  Eventually he decided that the bowls were trash trucks, needing to be filled.  But overall it was a success.  We had a glorious hour of non-trash-truck play and a little exploration of something novel.  Today we are back to trash trucks.

Austerity Measures

About a month ago DH and I both started feeling uncomfortable with our credit card bill.  Not only because most of my maternity leave is unpaid, though that was a factor.  I felt uncomfortable with what spending that amount of money said about us- about what we value and what we let define us.  I don't know how many times a day I would log on to amazon, but having some new thing was my solution to any problem.  I get a huge thrill out of knowing that a package is on the way, and amazon one-click is WAY too easy.  I found myself looking around and valuing myself based on the things that surrounded me rather than who I am.  Buying something new was like a drug- I needed just a little hit every day to make me feel OK.  And at the same time, I felt like we were being overrun with stuff.  Drawers, cabinets, shelves are literally overflowing with stuff that we don't use, but have "just in case".

So we decided to see if we could go for one whole month without spending any money on things besides groceries, toiletries and child related necessities (shoes when Jonathan suddenly outgrew his tennies; warm sleepers for Zoë when the temperatures dropped, etc).  We have almost completed our month and have been remarkably successful in keeping to our goal.  I couldn't help myself and bought a stuffed elephant for Zoë that was just too cute and we stopped for fast food once.  And now that our month is almost over, I am thinking about how it has affected me.

The first, and most obvious, thing is that I have stopped impulse buying.  And I like it.  I hate the feeling of unpacking your bags when you get home and looking at that item that was only $1.99, but you know you don't need and have no space for.  I like knowing that the things in my bag are things we need, not just things we want.

But the bigger thing that I have noticed is that I find my mind a little calmer a little more of the time.  Since there is no point for me to make a mental shopping list for much of anything or to plan projects, I have found myself being in the moment a little more often- whether that moment is playing with Jonathan, being spit-up on, or enjoying the rare quiet when the kids are both napping at the same time.  And I am really enjoying that extra space to just be.  I would like more of it.

So I definately think one month was good, but not enough to get me to where I want to be.  I want that mental space to be permanent.  I want to not even be tempted with those impulse buys. I want less clutter.  And I think my thought patterns will take a lot more than one month to change.  I'm not sure yet what this will look like going forward, but I am hoping we will work out a way to keep these changes going.

fresh air

Today has been a welcome breath of fresh air and relaxation after a few rather stressful days.  Life with a newborn is always exhausting, but yesterday was a remarkably trying day.  She fussed all day.  Not outright screaming most of the time (though we had our share of that too), but that revving up to scream "eeh eeh eeeeeh" noise- like an engine turning over but not quite getting there.  Literally all day.  Jonathan was having one of his 'terrible twos' days where we were living on the edge (or careening over the edge) of a tantrum all day.  DH worked late; dinner was a chore; bedtime was a disaster.  They screamed; I screamed.  We all ended the day on a bad foot.

After they were both finally asleep, I remembered how sweet and wonderful they really are and I sat in the kitchen and cried thinking about all the ways I failed them during the day.  How I lost my temper when Zoë probably had a tummy ache all day.  How I shouldn't have yelled at Jonathan when he tripped over the bouncer and banged his head, accidentally kicking the baby on the way down.  How a better mother would have a little more patience than I exhibited today.  How I hoped they knew how much I desperately love them despite my behavior.  I went to bed not only feeling tired, but like I was the worst version of myself.

But today has been like a ray of sunshine.  Zoë had her best night of sleep yet- asleep at 8pm and up at 7:30am only waking once to nurse- so I started the day a little more well rested than normal.  There was no preschool for Jonathan so after delivering a meal to some friends with a new little one, we headed to the playground.  We met another friend with a toddler and a baby and spent some lovely time in the sunshine chasing little boys and laughing together about the insanity of taking care of two little ones at once.  Zoë slept.  We had a lovely lunch and then nap-time where both of the kids slept a glorious 2 hours at the same time.  I swept the floor, sorted some laundry, prepped food for dinner and still had time to sit and drink coffee in the quiet while working on my latest project. I could feel the stress that had built up behind my eyeballs quietly melting away all day.

I know there will be more stormy days.  Days where everything goes wrong.  Where I loose my temper, fail to roll with the punches, and am not the mother I want to be. But my hope is that as long as I do my best to demonstrate how much I love my little munchkins every day and try to model patience and joy, things will be ok.  The kisses and smiles will outweigh the times when I slip and loose my cool.  And with a few days like today thrown in the mix, it gives me hope that I will make it through the craziness of being a Mommy with enough sanity to tip the scales the right way.

trick or treat

So this year, our little man had his first real Halloween experience.  And it was a hit.  I mean, really, a holiday that involves mainly getting to wear a costume and then have people give you large quantities of candy?  I'm not surprised that he deemed it his "favorite holiday".

Zoë donned the obligatory baby pumpkin costume (even though orange is really not her color).

And Jonathan went as a dragon.

This is actually his costume from last year, and I was super excited it fit again because the way his tail bobs when he walks in it is so cute I can barely stand it.

Our neighbors set up a miniature carnival that Jonathan loved.

And he went with Daddy to a few houses.

And was introduced to the concept of gluttony.

He has talked about trick-or-treating every day since halloween and often insists on wearing his costume for as much of the day as possible.

imagination

Conversation between Jonathan and Daddy...

Jonathan: Daddy, throw a fish at me!

Daddy: (looking around for a toy fish and finding none) A pretend fish?

Jonathan: (nodding) YES!!

Daddy: (pretends to throw a fish) Whap!

Jonathan: (bursts into tears and looks accusingly at Daddy) I need a kiss!

Daddy: What happened?

Jonathan: (between sobs) You hit me in the face with a fish!

remaining calm

The thing about parenting is that it consistently throws you into situations for which you are wholly unprepared but about which you now must act quickly and decisively for the well being of someone you love more than life itself.  And when you are staying home, the only job you have is to take care of these little ones.  So when something goes wrong, it isn't hard to blame yourself and feel like a failure.

For example, over the past week Jonathan has developed a stutter and started saying "dammit" with alarming frequency.  And Zoë has demonstrated that she is completely unwilling to drink from a bottle.  I am not a speech therapist or a psychologist and we never had a problem introducing Jonathan to the bottle.  I suspect that the stutter and the swearing are both related to the stress of the life changes that have recently befallen our little man- and that the best course of action is to remind him that swearing is rude, but to generally ignore them, pile on the TLC, and that this phase will naturally run its course.  But there is a little voice in my head telling me that stutters can be lifelong, debilitating conditions and that my improper handling of it now could ruin Jonathan's life.  I don't know what to do about the bottle issue, except to remain calm, warm, and loving, and to keep practicing and trying new bottles.  But the little voice in my head keeps telling me that if I don't get this figured out, Zoë will starve to death when I go back to work.

I think the trick is to hold the potential seriousness of situations in mind while remaining calm and taking everything with a grain of salt.  Yes, things need to be dealt with in a thoughtful manner with an eye to the future.  But everything is a phase.  And most things sort themselves out with time and patience.  Or at least that is what I keep telling myself.

Beach

After a month of staying with us and being helpful in too many ways to count, my mom flew back to Minnesota this week.  She's only been gone a few days and I miss her so much that it hurts.  Not just for the practical help that she was- from staying up late to hold Zoë and let us get some sleep, to going grocery shopping, to playing silly games with Jonathan, etc- but also for the company.  I love that my mom and I can stay up late talking about nothing and everything every night for a month and it never gets old.  My relationship with her is something I cherish more than just about anything.  And I seriously hope that I am able to be the kind of mother to Zoë that my mother is to me.

The last week that my mom was here, my dad also flew in and we all packed up for a trip to the beach!  As stressful as it is to travel with small children (and despite some questionable weather), it was a wonderful and relaxing few days with family.

Thanks Mom and Dad!  You guys are fantastic grandparents and the best parents a girl could have.  I hope we can be half the parents that you guys are!  Love you and miss you tons!!

Zoë- 1 Month

So Zoë was one month old yesterday!  I can't believe how time flies!!  At the ripe old age of 1 month, the things that charaterize her experience (and ours) are eating, sleeping, crying and pooping.  So here is the long and short of how that is going so far:

At 10.2 lbs, she is growing like crazy!!  Having no other baby experience, I can't help but characterize her by comparing her to big brother.  In my opinion, there is quite a family resemblance.

Newborn Jonathan

Newborn Zoë 

But despite their looks, they have completely different philosophies about eating.  If left to his own choices, Jonathan might starve to death because he is just to distracted to stop and eat.  It took him a week after birth to learn how to nurse and he never had the patience to do so for more than 5 minutes.  Zoë loves eating.  Within 10 minutes of birth she had figured out how to nurse like a pro and did so for half an hour.  She over-eats every time and then spits all the excess back up in sneaky gushes as soon as she sees the burp-cloth has slipped.  We have started calling her Miss Vesuvius.

While she is by no stretch of the imagination sleeping through the night, she seems to have her days and nights sorted out and a natural bedtime of 8pm.  Whether this is because by 8 Jonathan is asleep and the chaos around here subsides is hard to say, but it is fantastic for us.  After her 8ish nursing, she usually is pretty easy to rock to sleep and will stay asleep once we lay her down in her bed (Fisher Price is genius.  If only we'd had this for big brother).  And from then until around 6am Zoë sleeps, waking up to nurse, but then going right back to sleep.  Amazing.

Daytime sleep is something else, though.  She fights naps a like a champ and, unlike her big brother, isn't lulled to sleep by nursing.  So she is awake happily for about an hour after she eats, but then is overtired but can't put herself to sleep yet.  So we end up rocking, bouncing, singing, walking, patting, shh-shhing, and watching her eyes blink slower and slower until they finally flutter shut.  For about 5 minutes.  Then they POP open and we are back to square one.  And heaven forbid you set her down after she has fallen asleep.

Birth Story

So its been almost three weeks since Zoe was born  and I am hoping that gives me a good balance between remembering her labor and delivery with some accuracy and having enough oxytocin built up in my system to have taken the harshest edges off my memories.  So here goes...

Since it didn't result in a baby being born it wasn't true labor, but contractions began on Labor Day (Sept. 5).  Strong enough and regular enough that I called my parents and was fully expecting to see our little princess that day.  But she had other ideas.  The contractions subsided somewhat, from every 10 min to 1 or 2 per hour for the next two weeks.  Occasionally they would pick up again- every 10 min for an hour or two- and we would wonder, "Is this it?!?"  But no. School started for me and life went on as normal, or as close to it as you can get when you are fully expecting your water might break at any moment.

I had my 39 week check-up on the 16th.  I told the midwife I was sick and tired of pregnancy and really wanted to get things started, so she swept my membranes during the exam.  I left telling her I hoped I would see her later that evening.  And sure enough, contractions started again by dinnertime.  We put Jonathan to bed and waited.  They were getting closer and stronger and I was knew that this time was it.  My mom booked a flight.  Jim's parents were on red alert for coming over to watch Jonathan when we decided it was time to go.  Around 9pm we went to bed, hoping to get a few hours of rest before things really got moving.  Around 1:30am I woke up with enough discomfort that I wasn't able to sleep.  Jim's parents came around 2:30 and we watched The Office for a few hours.  At 6am we decided it was really time to go, so we headed to the hospital.

The midwife measured me at 4cm when we arrived.  We did laps around L&D until 10am when they remeasured me to be at 5cm.  And at that point I decided to quit; 4 hours per 1cm was not going to be an acceptable pace. I was exhausted- tired of the tease that my body had been giving me for the past two weeks.  I realized that I hadn't really come to the hospital mentally prepared for what lay ahead.  With Jonathan I was pumped- this was it and I was ready to take on childbirth and do it drug free.  This time I was tired.  Tired from being up since 1:30am, tired of being pregnant, tired of contractions, tired of waiting, tired of thinking "maybe this is it" and being wrong, tired of the anticipation.

So when Nell, the midwife, said she thought she should break my water to get labor back on track, I knew I needed to say yes.  I knew that breaking my water would mean a sure path forward in this process.   But it would also mean I would be facing a new level of pain and require a mental fortitude I wasn't sure I had.  What I really wanted to do was say 'forget it, I quit', but quitting isn't really an option during labor.  So I took a deep breath and said yes.

Nell broke my water and almost instantly I hit transition- hard.  My contractions went from taking my breath away to making me scream. I had forgotten that feeling.  The one that you are being pulled apart from the inside.  The kind of pain that removes all capacity for rational thought and modesty.  I got in the birthing tub and that helped, a little.  And after about an hour, I was at 10cm and ready to push.

Because there had been meconium in the amniotic fluid, the pediatrician and nursery nurse were in the room as soon as I started pushing and wanted to get Zoe out fast (a mutual goal).  With Jonathan pushing had been terrible; every push felt like horrible ripping pain.  But this time it felt right; it felt like this was what my body needed to be doing.  I could focus on pushing with each breath instead of the pain of each contraction. I pushed for about 20 minutes and then Nell said that since Zoe's heart rate was going down during the contractions, I needed to get her out in the next 2 pushes or she was going to do an episiotomy.  That did it for me.  Her head was out on the next push. And I was done.  I saw Zoe laying on the bed next to me, umbilical cord still connecting us and I cried.  I cried with relief that I was done.  I cried for joy as I felt my heart expand.  I cried with the wonderful and terrible knowledge that I loved this little one with the kind of love that will bear any pain and sacrifice everything without a second thought.

The pediatrician checked Zoe and she was great- 7lbs 15oz and 20" long.  Her umbilical cord was twisted up like a telephone cord (presumably from her constant flips in utero) so that it was only 12" long instead of a typical 20" (hence the dropping heart rate).  They handed her back to me and the rest of the world became a blur.  This perfect little package, wrapped in the hospital receiving blanket, was finally here nothing else seemed to matter very much.

Jonathan

In the whirlwind of excitement surrounding a new baby and all of those changes, it would be easy to forget the fantastic stage that Jonathan is at right now.  Two and a half certainly has its challenges, and while we have our battles of willpower and tantrums, he is a completely charming and wonderful little boy.  So here are some current highlights from the world of Jonathan:

Here he is today at a "Touch-A-Truck" event:

Right now his favorite song is I'll Make a Man Out of You from the Disney movie Mulan.  He is crazy about the video of this on YouTube and insists that it be sung to him as a lullaby.  He wakes up singing it and sings it over lunch, dinner, and while riding in the car.  I think my favorite aspect of this is that in the morning when he wakes up, we hear his sweet little voice singing lines like "Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns" or "Heed my every order, and you might survive".

He started in a new preschool class earlier this month, and while I didn't get a first day of school picture, this is at least from the first month!  He loves going to school and coming home to teach us how to do things like sit "criss-cross applesauce" or do the "head and shoulders" dance.

We have peanut-butter and honey sandwiches for lunch every day.  He loves eating peanut-butter off of a spoon and when I say "here's some honey for my honey".  He also continues to be the slowest eater of all time. 45 min on lunch today and he only made it through his sandwich and 3 out of 4 apple slices!

He loves reading.  When Gramma pulled out a book today and said "Jonathan, I have a new book for you and Zoë", his response was to literally bounce up and down and say "That is so exciting!".   He is currently fascinated by a book about a tiger called Augustus who lost his smile.

Jonathan continues to be a little conversationalist.  When there is a lull in the conversation he will look someone in the eye and say: "So, how was your wonderful day?"  He also goes out of his way to answer questions in complete sentences.  Even yes and no questions.  For instance: "Jonathan, would you like cheese with lunch?"  "Yes, I would like cheese"

Oh, writing this makes me want to run upstairs right now, give him one more good night kiss and tickle his adorable little boy toes!!

1 to 2

I am amazed at how fast the transition is from pregnant to mommy.  The few hours of labor and a 24 hour stay in the hospital and suddenly I am at home, a mother of two...

Yesterday I looked down at myself and found that I was sitting on the kitchen floor nursing a semi-fussy, squirmy Zoë in one hand while attempting to control the mess that was Jonathan discovering the feeling of squishing play-dough with his toes.  All I could think was "What have you gotten yourself into? This is going to be an entirely new level of chaos!"

But so far, the transition is going well.  Having my mom here is a god-send.

Between her and having Jim home on paternity leave last week, there has always been a free hand to give hugs, find snacks, and play with Jonathan while still rocking Zoë, cleaning up spit-up, and changing those ridiculously small diapers.

I still feel like there is a lot to learn about the logistics of how to do three things with two hands.  For example how to do bath time, or cook dinner, go to the grocery store, or wrangle two kiddos plus backpacks and lunch bags into preschool.  But while I'm sure there is a learning curve, I know we'll figure out a system that works.

My main concern about the transition from 1 child to 2 children was that Jonathan would feel replaced/ignored/neglected/jealous with the new little one needing so much and taking the attention from him.  Especially since he is something of a ham and has been quite a mommy's boy.  So I tried to prepare him for some of the changes ahead of time- that Mommy was going to have to go to the hospital for a few days to have the baby, that he could come visit us there, that sometimes babies cry, etc.  I brought a present for him with me to the hospital so he would associate it and the new baby with something nice.  I've been trying to phrase things so as to give him ownership of the baby- his sister, our baby, etc.  And I've been trying to go out of my way to notice what he is doing and give him attention even while I am taking care of Zoë.  And so far, so good.  He's had moments of jealousy (like when we went to church and were swarmed with people wanting to see the baby and not him), but mostly he is doing well.  He seems a touch more emotional and tired, but mostly he is is silly cheerful self- more interested in his ball-popper than in a sleeping baby.

But he has been so gentle and loving with her and so excited when she watches him play or he can comment on what she is doing.  Tonight he wanted to hold her and thought it was hilarious when she watched him play peek-a-boo with her.  He is a sweetheart and is going to be a great big brother!

We'll see what happens when some of the extra help goes away and 'real life' resumes!  But for now, as always, we are figuring it out one day at a time!

Zoë

This past weekend we finally welcomed Zoë Rebekah into our family!!  

The last year of waiting for her has been a tremendous one.  Just over a year ago we had our miscarriage and it rocked my world in a way I didn't know could be done.  Hope and life and came crashing down around me at a time when I was least expecting it.  And everything last fall and winter was tainted with the sense that something horrible and devistating could be lurking around every corner.  When we got pregnant again, I could barely let myself believe it.  I kept expecting the other shoe to drop.

But sitting here this morning with her napping on my lab while big brother is off to preschool, I am overwhelmed with the new joy and hope that has come into our lives.  We have the most beautiful perfect little baby girl I can imagine.  

 Zoë means life.  Not life like run of the mill, physical, "bios" life, but life like the infinite and grand phenomena of life.  

Life like the spirit of things new and fresh and full of wonder.  Life like joy and fullness and hope restored.  

Life like what sparkles in her eyes when she opens them and focuses on your face.  

Life like the gentle way she grips my finger when I put it in her hand.  Life like all of the sweet and the bitter parts mixed into a fierce torrent that sweeps you away.