Thoughts of All Sorts

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever have full control of my brain function again. Between being pregnant and having an incredibly busy toddler, my thoughts are all over the place, and I struggle to form complete thoughts. So here- be the pinball in my brain for a few minutes. (Also, please don't begrudge me some random phone pictures of my girl while we're at it.)

Evelyn has this toy that fills up with gears, and when you push the button it plays music while the center gear spins, turning all the rest. That is all well and good, but putting it away drives me crazy. The gears are yellow, orange, red, green, and blue. Some sick part of me cannot put it away so that any like colors are touching/close to each other. I also can't put the red and green next to each other because that looks too Christmasy. Every night when I put it away I think, "this is just stupid. I can't believe I'm wasting time trying to get these spaced out just right." But I can't help myself. IT'S A SICKNESS, I TELL YOU.

In the last week or two Evie has started doing some fun things. She now makes a [very] surprised face, puts her hands up in a "where did he/she/it go?/I don't know" motion, sniffs like a bunny, growls like a bear, pants like a puppy, and makes a monkey sound. We're quite entertained by it all.

  

I think I'm nesting. Or maybe it's because Jered talked about buying a house and got my hopes up, and now it seems we will be here at least one more year. All I know is that I basically want to redo everything in the apartment. I want to paint furniture, hang different artwork, update throw pillows, and de-clutter the heck out of this place.

Similar to my problem with the gear toy, I take longer than needed to eat my Frosted Mini Wheats. I have to flip them all frosted side up so that I can eat the plain ones first and save the best for last. I can't be the only one, right? Speaking of Frosted Mini Wheats, Jered was pouring us each a bowl the other night and kind of chuckled when he handed me mine. HE HAD TRADED ALL OF HIS PLAIN ONES WITH FROSTED ONES FROM MY BOWL. What kind of marriage is this?

 

Yesterday some adorable cloth doll patterns came in the mail. The goal is to make at least a few for Evelyn in time for Christmas. Hopefully five months is enough time.

I would say that thus far, birthing and raising Evelyn is at the top of my accomplishment list. (You may remember that I also went through the Target clothing section and came out with only the jeans for which I went- and I have since gone in with my sister while she shopped for clothes, and I didn't get ANYTHING. So those are pretty high up there as well.) However, I recently outdid myself. I got Jered hooked on Grey's Anatomy. As in- he has started watching it without me. As in- he didn't study enough for one of his finals because he couldn't stop watching. Also- he's a keeper because he has the same favorite characters as me (Mark and Lexie), and he has seen me ugly cry so many times in the last couple weeks and admits when an episode is a tearjerker. (Oh- he doesn't cry, FYI.)

 

I love summer. And I love fruit. One of my favorite things about summer is the abundance of amazing fruit. I'm not even that picky about it- I don't mind eating a tart strawberry or a slightly crunchy peach. But a perfect summer peach? The kind that is just right, juicy, and exploding with flavor? If I was a poet, I would write a love sonnet, no- multiple love sonnets about that peach.

 

I turned twenty-nine last week, and my parents got me The Longevity Book by Cameron Diaz (per my request.) It's all about the science of what happens to you when you age (specifically as a woman) and from what I can tell is about how to appreciate your body and embrace aging rather than fearing it as society teaches us we should. I flipped through it real quick and it's muuuch more science than I anticipated and has hardly any photos, so I think it will be quite the learning experience and I will be armed with a highlighter at all times.  Time to get back in school mode.

 

Here's a slightly more connected thought:

My parents took Evelyn and me to Branson a few weeks ago. It was a ridiculously sweltering week, so we mainly relaxed at the condo, at the pool, and ventured downtown a few times. After a week of having two extra sets of hands that were happy to take over meals, diapers, and bedtimes and being spoiled to death by my parents I felt refreshed and ready to jump back into the daily routines of being a stay at home mom and wife.

Then I came home to an apartment that I had not left clean and tidy before vacation. Instantly overwhelmed. Within the first half hour of being home I was scrubbing down the bathroom because our water leaves a gross ring around the toilet if it isn't used for a few days. I grumbled to myself on my hands and knees as I wiped down the floor. And then I caught myself. It was 11:30 on a Monday morning. Jered and I left a hotel that morning to make it back for my 10:30 meeting, and now I was at home with my husband and baby. I mean, I was still scrubbing a bathroom floor, but we could have had to push our way through the drive to make it back the night before, and I could have had to be sitting at a desk away from my family at 8:30 that morning. Reality and attitude check- check.

And now it's off to a hefty pile of dishes I left for myself.

Ta-ta.

A Toddler and Pregnancy 102

The baby is officially one year old.

I looked at her after bath time last night, and I swear her looks had changed over the course of the day.

Her cognitive development within the last week has been astounding as well. She brings her water bottle to me when it's empty and asks for more, she brings books to us and wants us to read (usually the same book- thank goodness it's one I like), she has been sitting and flipping through each page of her board books on her own with intense focus throughout much of the day, she is starting to bring objects to us when we ask for them, she goes to other rooms to find things when we suggest it, and she's starting to figure out things like her nose when we ask her about them.

(And every other mother says "blah, blah, blah- no big deal. Every kid does this." I can't help it, ok? It's exciting because it practically happens overnight!)

[We went to a splash pad for her birthday, and she was so brave! She ran all around on her own 

and loved watching all the older kids playing. You could tell she wanted to make friends.]

It seems that both babies are growing like weeds (or as Mark Sloan puts it, "mighty oaks") right now. I felt J 2.0- ooph, we need a better nickname than that- for the first time around Memorial Day, but he/she has majorly stepped up the dance moves. Jered was able to feel the kicks well last night, and I even saw the movement.

I hope to whine a little less during this pregnancy, while still being real. I still don't enjoy being pregnant, but it's true what they say. You don't think about being pregnant as much with the second because you're busy attending to your first.

I'm convinced this one is a boy because my skin has reacted completely differently this time. (Huzzah!) And you may be thinking Aimee surely has matured during this year of being a mom and won't care about the gained weight and changing body this time.  You would be quite wrong. I still hate not recognizing my body, especially after working really hard this year to get fitter than I've ever been. It's wild how much sooner I'm showing this time around. I just keep hanging onto the fact that I've still been exercising regularly this time, whereas last time I did nothing. (I almost literally slept through all of my non-working time during the first trimester.)

Bothering me even more is the idea of my heart growing for two babies. I've heard enough to know that you don't share or split your love, that it somehow expands to cover both/all children.

But before you experience it, it seems impossible.

I'm finding myself feeling premature guilt. Our time with newborn Evelyn was kind of great (minus nursing pains and a couple bouts of mastitis). We loved just sitting around with her, snuggling, relaxing, and soaking her up all of the time. I'm afraid that with a toddler running around, demanding attention, J 2.0 and I won't develop the same kind of bond.

On the other hand, I can't imagine not being able to give Evelyn all of the attention. I know it will be good for her to see that our worlds don't revolve around only her, but I feel guilty all the same. Even though a year is really no time at all, it seems like she's been "our girl" (in a very unique, solo kind of way) for forever, and the idea of adding someone else to the mix... I don't know, seems like it will lessen that?  I know those are foolish thoughts and I will be proven wrong when Baby Numero Dos gets here, but they are creeping around my brain in the meantime anyway.

Speaking of the girl needing attention, I can hear her buzzing her lips for me to get her out of bed this very moment, so I'll talk to you later.

Aim

Her Birthday Eve

It's here.

Well, almost.  Practically.

Exactly one year ago, I was sitting at work, thinking this baby was going to make me wait.  I walked for forty-five minutes of my hour lunch break, talking to my mom on the phone about how my sunless tanner was dripping down my elbows because my elbow "pits" were sweating from holding my phone.  I stared in disbelief at the unrecognizable ankles and feet attached to my body when I got back.

That evening I went to Molly's for dinner and a movie.  We went for a walk before the girls went to bed.  My normal contractions increased a bit in frequency and intensity.  As I headed out, she told me she would pray for the baby to come that night.

I started the new episodes of Pretty Little Liars on Netflix (they would end up being my go-to to take my mind off painful nursing experiences) that night before bed, and decided to time my contractions... until I fell asleep.  Before bed, Jered said his only wish was that J wouldn't come in the middle of the night.

J apparently always had a mind of her own.  Here's the timeline.

 

Anyway, I've been feeling nostalgic, but haven't really had the time to sit and soak it all up the way I'd like.  Maybe this weekend I can sit and make my way through pictures and videos and old blog posts.

That baby.

We woke her up in the middle of the night last night.  (Well, the middle of her night.)  I just missed her.  I wanted to hold her.  So, we went in and rubbed her back until she sat right up.  She snuggled into each of us, we gave her kisses, and Jered rocked her back to sleep.

She didn't change us.  People say that having a kid will change you.  Molly already figured it out- they reveal more of you.  Evelyn has just made parts of our personalities clearer.  She's helped me learn about pieces of me I didn't know existed.

A year ago, I felt completely inept.  I didn't feel prepared.  Shortly before I got pregnant, I was even having serious doubts about having kids... at all.

Evelyn showed me that I'm stronger than I thought I was.  I can do harder things than I thought I could.  I'm more capable than I thought I was.  I have more love to give than I thought I did.

We are happy, healthy.  She is a delight.  I can't take credit for her personality, but I can take at least partial credit for the fact that so far, her life has allowed her to be healthy and happy and thriving.

Yes, I still have much to learn.  But I can learn.

Well, it's time to get that baby lunch and outside time.

Later.

Aim

Momming

Hi all.

I've been thinking about momming quite often lately.  (Probably not ultra-surprising seeing how yesterday was Mothers' Day, right?)

Or given the fact that I'm a mom, and it pretty much runs your life.

Or because numero dos is on the horizon.  (Speaking of- I dreamed last night that "it" was a "she" and came two months early - looking full term - on my parents' kitchen floor.  It all happened in a matter of minutes and I felt totally normal afterward.  Ah.  If only.)

In case you were losing sleep at night- I figured out why Evie was so weird earlier this week: she cut not just one, but three new teeth.  Aaaaand life makes sense again for the moment.  I knew the one tooth was bugging her over a week ago, but I was at a loss this week.

 

Anyway, thoughts on momming, yeah?

Well yesterday I listened... uneasily(?) to the Mothers' Day message about entrusting our children to God.  I say uneasily because it was about Hannah giving Samuel over to God as soon as he was weaned.  She had longed and longed for a child, and when she had one, she gave him up because she had "struck a deal" with God.

Our Pastor pointed out that it was ridiculous of Hannah to strike a deal with God because anything she could offer Him was already His.

My children were God's children first and always.  They don't belong to me.  I am merely a steward, entrusted with their sweet lives for a short time.

But, but but?

If they aren't mine, why, oh why are they allowed to steal my heart and walk around with it?  How can they be a part of me, and not mine?

Well, I haven't come to a conclusion about that yet.

 

Now that I'm out of school and work from home, I have no concept of time of year.  Apparently it's graduation season, and moms everywhere are experiencing the bittersweet of watching their babies leave home.

I know that I'm going to get to Evelyn's graduation and think, "How? How did it come so soon?  Is she ready?  Did I do my job well enough?"  That will be plenty hard, so I'm stunned that Hannah had the strength to follow through on her promise to give Samuel over at just a few years of age.

A quote from someone who was asked how to be a good foster parent was read yesterday.  It went something like this:  The only way to be a good foster parent is to love the children even though you know it will rip your heart out when they leave.

That thought works for all parents, yeah?  But in light of eternity, I'm a foster mom to my babies.  I have them for a short time, and the only way for me to be a good mom is to love them even though I know it won't last forever.

 

I want to live that way.  Like my time is limited.  I want to love them like I only have a short time with them.  And I'm oh-so-grateful for the time we have.

Later,

Aim

Clueless

Hello.

Well, tomorrow marks eleven months.  Eleven months that we've had a baby on the outside.  My dear friends, Rebekah and Mark, just welcomed their sweet baby boy into the world this week, and it's caused me to reminisce on those first few weeks often during the last few days.  It's staggering.

My baby is walking around.  She fi,fi,finally learned how to drink from something other than me.  (It's a straw cup, and something about her little puckered lips when she drinks is ridiculously cute.)  If I ask her where her water is, she will look for it and go get it.  She is eating food that a couple weeks ago, I would have been terrified to give her.

What happened to my little munchkin who would fall asleep on us at any time?  Who sounded like Abu from Aladdin with her little squeaks?  Who would take a good five to ten minutes stretching before she could open her eyes to wake up?

She's grown into a hilarious little girl who will mimic and play and laugh and follow us from room to room and wave to strangers instead of scowl at them and climb stairs and keep us on our toes (and write terrible sentences).

At the risk of I know I'm being redundant, I loved those early days, but I find her to be more and more delightful the older she gets.  We still can't help but sneak in to watch her sleep at night.  As tired as we may be when she wakes us up in the morning, she makes us smile as soon as she starts babbling or giving kisses.

Sometimes she really lets me think I have this mothering thing down.  I mean, we've really lucked out with an easygoing baby, so it's not that I believe I'm just awesome at this- I know it's mostly due to the fact that she is just easy.

I mean- she wasn't easy allll the time- we had our days when she would cry and cry and want anyone BUT Mom, and I will never forget how horrible the nights were around Christmas when she was waking up every two hours to eat, but all in all, she's been easier than I anticipated.

But then the easy baby starts teething again.  Or gets a random upset stomach.  Or goes through a growth spurt?  And starts waking up at 4:45 am on the dot and decides that now she wants to cry forever (ok- our forever is probably quite short compared to other parents' with not-so-great sleepers) before falling asleep at naptime.

I realize we're probably just going through a short phase.  Today she went down for a nap without any hesitation, but in that moment yesterday, when I felt like texting Jered to ask what I should do when she wouldn't go to sleep, I remembered that I'm a first time mom with an eleven month old, and I'm still new at this.

And there's nothing like a normally easy baby deciding to switch things up on you to remind you that you are still clueless and make you wonder why you thought you could do this again.

But then she smiles and gives you a kiss when you ask for one, and you remember. Because of that.  Because of the scary amount of love you carry for that little human and the overwhelming joy they bring everyone around them.

*siiiiigh*  I love our girl.

"I'm in love! I'm in love, and I don't care who knows!"  Even so, I will stop rambling on about it for now.

Aim

Babies don't keep... or something like that

Hey.

I thought once I started staying home I'd have more availability for writing.  HA.  Turns out, it's much easier to write when you're sitting in front of a computer all day, five days a week than when you're at home with a mobile baby and housework that needs to get done.

While I love writing, I'm finding myself using my dwindling free time to work out and stretch my sketching muscles instead.  Maybe because my writing muscles take more brain power.

Anyway, a year ago I was feeling reeeeally pregnant and like every other pregnant woman I knew was having their baby.  (Also, while I was 95% certain I was going to have a boy, something like 12 out of 13 of the ladies who had babies in the few months before us had girls.  Silly me- felt like they were taking all the girl genes. Haha.)

Well, now they are all celebrating, or preparing to celebrate first birthdays.  And I'm kind of dreading getting to that point.  I saw a chart once that listed the different stages of childhood.  Newborn, infant, toddler, child, preteen, teen, young adult, adult.  The newborn stage was only the first month.  I felt that.  If I'm honest, it was a bit of a shock to mourn the end of it.  Evelyn was such a content baby that it was amazingly easy to love that stage.

Now I'm staring down the end of the infant stage.  Of course she'll always be our baby, but she won't be a baby anymore.  She'll be a toddler.  Why???  Why do we only get a baby for a year?  It just doesn't seem long enough.

One of my friends who celebrated that first birthday recently, posted about how even though her daughter was celebrated, she felt the biggest change in herself, in what God had taught her about love during that year.  I read that and thought, "YES.  Yes, yes, YES!"

[Evie's dedication day]

I suppose it's only natural that this lesson of God's love should pop up more and more frequently as we approach June.  

The sermon on Sunday was about Abraham trusting God when God told him to sacrifice his son, Isaac.  The son that God had promised to Abraham and Sarah.  The son that would lead to Abraham's descendants being as numerous as the stars.  

This landed in my notes: "The same God that loved Abraham enough to stay his hand, to stop him from sacrificing his only son loved us enough not to stay the Romans' hands when they killed His only son."

Wow.  I can not imagine.  

We were also asked the question, "If everything you love were taken away from you, would God still be enough?"

Oh my.

I don't even have the words.  I'll try.  Are you ever afraid to tell God that He is enough?  Like, if you tell Him that, maybe He will test your faith to see if that's true?  You know, kind of like when you pray for patience and then you get majorly tested?  Maybe I'm being silly, but it kind of freaks me out to think about it.

I wish I could wrap this up with a pretty bow and tell you I figured it out and that I'm exactly on the right page with God.  That would be a lie.  It still makes me sick to my stomach to think about it.  I guess it comes down to me getting to know Him more.  I suppose I have the rest of my life to get there.

In the meantime, I will be soaking up the last couple months of my baby being a baby... who happens to be teething and miserable again.  We're really hoping it lasts just a few days like last time.  

As far as celebrating goes, I've always felt like Jered and I are the ones who need the first birthday party.  We did it, right?  She just ate, pooped, slept, and played.  We did all the work.  Ha.  I'm sure we'll cave and do a little something for the little one.  How could we say no to that face?

[Monkey lips... one of the many adorable tricks she's picked up recently]

I've also been aching for some time to sit and be nostalgic.  I want to go through all the photos and videos we've taken since the beginning.  I want to sit and journal about every little detail I can remember because I was terrible at doing it as it happened.  (This is one of the perks of social media though, right?  Instagram has been like a mini-journal for me.)  I want to work on a baby book!  Nothing like procrastinating and trying to do it all at once, am I right?

[She loves, loves, loves pears.]

And now I'm crying because look at this sweet, sweet baby girl with whom Jered and I have been entrusted.  I can't get over how much I love her.

That's all for now because I can't see the screen clearly anymore.

Talk to you later.

Aim