joanna says

 Pappy & Joanna

I should mention... Joanna doesn't pronounce "R's" so she's replaced it with a "Y."  Which makes for adorable isms.



bee-bop = makeup

waddy =  water

boppy = pacifier

otay? = are you okay?

uni-coin= unicorn

stoym troopy= storm trooper


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Songs:
Bee-ko Bee-ko Wittle Sty =  "Twinkle-twinkle little star"

I DOh DAY  I YUVV ITT.  Song lyrics "I don't care!  I love it!"

Lately she asks "What is it?" every time a song plays in the car.  I'll tell her the artist, then the song name.. and then she'll say "Can I see?" to which I hold up a picture of the album cover on my phone. 

Other songs she sings/loves:  "How Far I'll Go," by Moana.  "Thunder," by Imagine Dragons ... which I imagine she loves because they sing "Thund-ah!" with no 'r' just like her.  "I am A Child of God," and "Baa Baa Black Sheep."

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"Mom wook at that penguin!"  she said while pointing to a crow on a phone line.

When my sister Micaela came to help with Oslo after he was born, she and Joanna bonded.  One morning I joined Mica in the living room while Joanna was busy in the kitchen.  She began to call out "Mom!  Mom!" so I responded and asked what she needed.  She paused.  Walked over  to the kitchen doorway where she could see me and said "I'm talkeen about MEE-KAH."

When we were in the pool, Joanna asked me to be her horse.  Once she was on my back and ready she said "Wet's do diss."

She walked over to me while we were playing in the park where I had been snacking on some Pirate Booty puffs with its powdery cheese coating.  "Mom, wook at you're hands.  You got piwate dooty on yoursewf."

Often times when we are leaving the house she'll say "Don't weave!"  We quote this a lot.

She calls Oslo her "baby buddy."  Baby buddy!  Ugh I love it.

A couple times now, when she's feeling lovey, she'll wrap her arms around my neck and say "Mom.  You're my bess frenn."

Joanna has a hard time staying put during bedtime.  I usually know she'll actually stay when she yells out "Mom!  I'm in my bed!" and even more reassuring: "I'll see you tomowwow!"

Joanna does not like the sound of meals.  She only likes the sound of a snack.  "I don't want wunch!  I wann snack!"  "I don't want dinns! (or dinnay)  I wann snack!"

 The last couple weeks she's been playing 'mommy.'  She calls everyone honey, especially me and get's upset if she detects my behavior as anything more than docile child.

Ian calls Joanna "so pretty" from time to time and I'll tease him/ask him to make sure he's telling her more than that so that that's not her only identifier.  The other day he said he told her how smart she was and she said "I'm not smawt.  I'm pwetty."  Dang it.

"Wet's go get 'im!" she'll shout as she leads the way to wrestling with dad
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I feel like I need to do a separate post about this lady.  She's so fierce.  She's obstinate and independent to a maddening degree-- and yet I am so proud.  I forget she's still only two years old.  She's also sweet and thoughtful and will never get a snack only for herself.  She asks to get one for Peter as well every time.  She loves her books and her babies.  She loves to dress up like a princess and a ballerina to dance.  Or to do anything dressed as a princess.

We love our girl.

Birth Story III

I was ready for this baby.  I had had false contractions for the two weeks prior to his birth, so even though my real contractions started the morning of my 39th week of pregnancy-- it felt like it was past due.  I wasn't quite sure what to expect with this labor, as my first two were vastly different experiences.  This one ended up being a perfect hybrid of the two.

I labored naturally longer in the beginning than I had with Joanna's birth because of some miscommunication with the staff at the hospital that day.  It seemed to take forever to get the epidural-- I was already at 6 centimeters dilated!  This may not seem significant to some, but it takes me about 9-11 hours to get that far.  I had been at the hospital dealing with some pretty significant contractions by the time the epidural was in.  I had a few hours of relaxed comfort, when the nurse came in and said the baby's heart rate was dropping a little at the end of each contraction-- and suggested I move positions.  I switched to my other side and not long after my heart rate shot up.  I didn't notice anything significant, except that the machine I was hooked up to started to beep.  My nurse and doctors came in to see what it was about when suddenly my heart rate dropped significantly along with my blood pressure.  Simultaneously, I could feel myself losing consciousness.  I felt oddly calm as the doctors rushed around me and talked at me to stay awake and helped me to move positions while administering oxygen.  It was a very scary few minutes for everyone.  Mostly scary for Ian, I'm afraid.  I had a strong sense of peace and knew that I was okay-- but I couldn't communicate that with Ian and I hated that he had to watch, helpless, from the sidelines.  It makes me want to choke up thinking about it.  The good news is that baby and I were okay.  We are still not sure what happened exactly but the doctors believed it may have been linked to the epidural and thus shut it off.  

This meant that by the time I needed to push, all help from the epidural had worn off.  I was scared.

 Peter's birth was ultimately traumatic for me.  By the time I started pushing with him after laboring naturally for over sixteen hours,  I was so spent and motivated for it to be over that I went to a kind of crazy place.  I made a quick, emotional decision to stop trusting my doula who I'd felt wasn't sensitive to the trauma I was experiencing.  It seemed as though she was shaming me against the idea of medical intervention-- wanting me to go natural for her own personal reasons.  The issue with this is that because she'd lost my trust, I didn't feel safe listening to her about anything.  And as doula's are not technically medical professionals-- they cannot push back if you disagree with something.  I decided to push aided by gravity and squatted into it-- despite the suggestions of my doula.  This made it very difficult for the doctors to direct me in pushing because by the time Peter crowned (which was still a good 45 minutes later) --the gravity made it impossible for me to stop him coming out completely-- very quickly, causing me to tear significantly.  

I share this only because my birth with Oslo ended up healing a lot of qualms I had with Peter's birth.  First of all, it was the same delivery room.  Memories flooded back as I walked into that unique corner room of UK hospital.  I prepared myself mentally for my birth to be something unexpected, which it ended up being.  The other significant thing is that this time around I humbly put my full trust in the doctors surrounding me, who all happened to be women.  I expressed my fear as the familiar pains of pushing settled on me-- and instead of background suggestions, I listened intently to stern direction from my doctor and her team.  I had encouragement, direction and strong, experienced women literally moving my body into an ideal position for pushing.  It was what I was missing with Peter's birth.  In my labor with Peter I ventured out on my own, feeling spent and unsafe with the team around me.  Ian was my only support and saving grace in that situation-- but he was as clueless about giving birth as I was.  I needed someone to command the situation, gather me up, and help me through it.  I had that with Oslo's birth.  I expressed my fear and they buoyed me up, gave me stern direction and within fifteen minutes of active pushing-- Oslo was born.

I'm so grateful for these life changing experiences that have shaped my heart and opened me up to those around me.  I'm so grateful to have experienced each of my children's births and the significance that has been in my life.  I'm so happy to be a mom.  It has been my greatest blessing and my greatest challenge-- one that I revel in tackling for the rest of my life.

And then there was Oslo James.

 8 lbs, 13 oz

21 1/2 inches long

Perfect in every sense of the word.

We could not be happier to be a family of five. 

Photos by Marissa Lea Photagraphy

 

springtime

 

 

Our third child will be joining us soon.  We are due the end of this month, about May 28th... though I'm secretly hoping he makes his debut sooner.  This pregnancy has been a little more trying than my other two, which makes me all the more ready to hold my little one in my arms and share him with the rest of my family.  He's very active.  He responds to music and the sounds of Peter and Joanna playing, especially it seems when they're wrestling with their dad.  I think he's ready to get right in there.  Joanna has been especially mommy-hungry which I'm taking as a sign that baby really is on His way.  Her days as the youngest are numbered. 

I'm excited to see the dynamic shift to accommodate this new soul.  I have felt the need for it, recognizing a missing element to our family and I think this boy will fulfill it.  I'm ready.  And tenderly grateful to be a mom to my kids. 

florida

 

 

  We took a little trip to Destin, Florida a couple weeks ago.  Just thinking about those few days is sending a wave of relaxation through me all this time later.  We fell into an easy routine:

Eat breakfast.
Get dressed for the beach.

Spend the afternoon under our umbrella with "beach chairs" dug out of sand (convenient for my big pregnant belly.. allowing me to lay on my stomach!  So nice)

Finish late afternoon at the hotel pool

Showers and naps while winding down

Dinner.  Sometimes ice cream.

Bedtime.  

Our consistent and relaxing routine filled me with gratitude and sent me to reflection.  

Thank you continental breakfast.    Thank you fine white sand that was a dream to walk in barefoot.  Thank you beach sand that was the perfect texture to shape custom recliners out of.  Thank you turquoise water and the calm waves you provided our last day.  Thank you various fellow beach goers that embraced my sons' outgoing friendliness-- allowing him to play with their toys, digging holes with him and even allowing him to sit in their enormous unicorn float.  Thank you Joanna for "burying" mom-- your little hands dropping cool sand on my hot back was as good as a massage.  Thank you swim diapers and puddle jumpers!  Thank you to all the ancient animals that built the myriad of shells we came across, inspiring excitement and awe.  Thank you kind hotel staff that upgraded us to a room with a bunk-bed for free.  The view from that new balcony was rejuvenating.  Thank you heated hotel pool that kept us warm in the not-quite summer weather we were expecting as the evening approached.  Thank you road trip that always provides the right amount of time for Ian and I to properly catch up and enjoy each other.  Thank you Melissa & Doug for your water wow books, also Apple for the iPad.  You made our drive manageable for our kids as well. 

And thank you baby number three for inspiring this much needed trip. 

peter says

 Photo by his aunt Holly on iPhone

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"These beans are bothering me."

"What do you mean?"

"They smell like stinky socks."

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"I can't find my toothbrush!  I think a bandint just tooken it!"

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Ian:  "Quiet back there!"
Peter:  "I'm not a backpack!"

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While getting himself some ham, Peter realized that Joanna was crying in her room and ran off with ham in hand.  When he came back in he explained "I just gave Joanna ham 'cause she was sad."

I commended him for being such a thoughtful big brother and how much I appreciate it.  He responded with

"It's just what I do."

He has said this phrase in response to my compliments a lot since

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"Dad?  You're the best dad in Lexington."

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"Look!  Humans by the river!"  An observation while driving when he saw a group of people fishing

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Ian likes to tell these fantastical victory stories from time to time when we're in the car.  After one such story Peter responded with "What now didja DA-FEAT??" 

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During breakfast, Peter smiled suddenly, came over to me and whispered "Villager Zombies."

(he is super into Mine Craft right now...)

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Observing me laying in the sand at the beach-- "Why is mom dead?"

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Peter has started to tell fantastical stories too.  I need to record him one of these days because they are pretty epic and involved.  I mention it here because he always transitions a plot point with a loud and intense "And DEN..." (then)  It's so cute.  

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Occasionally he'll sound just like a teenager.  Joanna and I were having a very repetitive and frustrating argument.  She wanted chocolate milk, but I told her not until she'd eaten more of her dinner.  Back and forth, back and forth.  Peter finally sighs and goes "Ugh, mom you've said that a million times."

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Honestly, I need to keep up with this kid.  I should just follow him around with a tape recorder.  I'm lucky I caught the above sayings, but they're just a fraction of the things I am enjoying him say lately.  I am loving this age as Peter conceptualizes and makes sense of his own world.  He's fascinated by how things are spelled and the makes and models of cars right now for example.  

We love our Peter