Have you ever spent time thinking about hugs?
Hugs are one of the best things you can give or receive. They are free, yet they are not typically given enough.
I think about the value of human touch and the way a good hug feels. You give a hug to a friend or family member when you say hello and likely when you say hello.
You can give a hug to console someone and you can give a hug to congratulate someone.
Think about the time you were having an awful day, the weight of the world was on your shoulders and hug from someone you love brought tears to your eyes? You literally collapsed in their arms. You felt safe to release yourself in their arms.
I think about all the times in my life I've shared hugs of sadness and hugs of delight as I meet and greet or leave family and friends at the airport. Oh, the airport. A hub of hugs.
I think about hugs from my husband. He's one of my favorite people to hug - and I miss them when he is away.
I think about the hugs that need no reason - yet they brighten your day.
I think about the relationships I've fostered through business and how I've had VP's of HR embrace me in a hug - something that doesn't see to fit the workplace - but it was so natural at the the same time.
I think about the hugs that my mom gave me growing up - when I got hurt or was sad.
There are so many more reasons for hugs that evoke so much emotion - but there is this hug I've started to get recently that all but brings me to my knee's.
It feels like just yesterday Ireland started with "the neck hug".
After I change Ireland's diaper or change her clothes - I typically stand her up on the changing table and then scoop her up into my arms. As of yesterday she has begun hugging me back. Like HUGGING me back - taking her itty bitty arms and full on throwing them around my neck like I am the best thing she has ever seen. It literally melts my heart and makes me weak in my knees. She squeezes me and I can feel and hear her breath, hers squeals of delight, her love.
I say it all the time and I mean it - I do now know what I did in my life to be blessed with this amazing little baby girl. But I do know one thing - I can't wait to feels those arms around my neck tomorrow morning!
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Easy Like Sunday Morning
Today was the best Sunday morning I have in a long time.
Ever since Nana and Pop moved into our house - Ireland gets up earlier than before. She likes to be nosy - and see what they are doing, or better yet - she likes to wake up and pound on their door to wake them up.
Last night Ireland and I went to my Aunt Cherry's house to visit and stayed the night.
I must say that I haven't shared a room with Ireland in some time - and I was so pleased to crawl into bed last night right next to her pack and play. She woke up this morning around 6am and cried out. I pulled her up in bed with me - something I did every morning for 380 days as I nursed her - but that was months ago - and I still miss that bonding time. I was so pleased that she was receptive to the snuggles even though there was no milk in it for her! Typically - Ireland is like her dad - briefly affectionate. If I pull her in bed at home - she wants to play, not lounge. However, today, she was easy and gifted me her time and love. We stayed awake about 30 minutes - I would rub her back, her head, and smooch up my little girl. She in turn would rub my arm and look up and smile at me. It was magical. We fell asleep until 8am and I woke up with a sense of rejuvenation I haven't felt in a long time.
The past few months are a blur. July my parents moved in, MP moved out PT for school and I stopped nursing. I started traveling a lot in late August through November and somewhere in between I started a new job. I no longer work at home and I'm trying to figure out my new balance of work, exercise, family, free time and sleep. My days typically start at 4:45am or 5am and end late. Everything is fast, loud, interrupted and not always enjoyable in a rush.
So today, Ireland made it easy for me. She indulged me and I loved every minute of it. I am so thankful for the experiences like this that remind one more time how much I love being Ireland's mommy.
Ever since Nana and Pop moved into our house - Ireland gets up earlier than before. She likes to be nosy - and see what they are doing, or better yet - she likes to wake up and pound on their door to wake them up.
Last night Ireland and I went to my Aunt Cherry's house to visit and stayed the night.
I must say that I haven't shared a room with Ireland in some time - and I was so pleased to crawl into bed last night right next to her pack and play. She woke up this morning around 6am and cried out. I pulled her up in bed with me - something I did every morning for 380 days as I nursed her - but that was months ago - and I still miss that bonding time. I was so pleased that she was receptive to the snuggles even though there was no milk in it for her! Typically - Ireland is like her dad - briefly affectionate. If I pull her in bed at home - she wants to play, not lounge. However, today, she was easy and gifted me her time and love. We stayed awake about 30 minutes - I would rub her back, her head, and smooch up my little girl. She in turn would rub my arm and look up and smile at me. It was magical. We fell asleep until 8am and I woke up with a sense of rejuvenation I haven't felt in a long time.
The past few months are a blur. July my parents moved in, MP moved out PT for school and I stopped nursing. I started traveling a lot in late August through November and somewhere in between I started a new job. I no longer work at home and I'm trying to figure out my new balance of work, exercise, family, free time and sleep. My days typically start at 4:45am or 5am and end late. Everything is fast, loud, interrupted and not always enjoyable in a rush.
So today, Ireland made it easy for me. She indulged me and I loved every minute of it. I am so thankful for the experiences like this that remind one more time how much I love being Ireland's mommy.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Popping in....
I do not know what to call this blog b/c I do not want know what I even want to write about it.
I want to write about it all - about Ireland's birthday party nearly two months ago. I want to write about how I feel having a one year. I want to write about how Ireland amazes me every day and I get why parenthood is so stinking awesome. I want to write about our new housemates - Nana and Pop - as Daddy is away at school part-time. I haven't written about her first steps - or the fact that she now has a first sentence: "What's that!?" I haven't taken the time to talk about how sweet she is when she hugs her Baby Dolly or how ornery she is when she sticks out her tongue. I have to write about her slew of booboo's and falls. She is perfection wrapped up in one bubbly little girl.
So much is going on! I am so behind in everything!I want to write about so much, but I just don't feel my writing mojo lately.
Oh...writing mojo...where are you???
My goal is to take some time to blog more frequently. So I may start behind - but I will catch up! Just not tonight - the bugs are biting me on my patio and I've been staring at my computer screen all day. It's now time for me. :) Love to you all.
I want to write about it all - about Ireland's birthday party nearly two months ago. I want to write about how I feel having a one year. I want to write about how Ireland amazes me every day and I get why parenthood is so stinking awesome. I want to write about our new housemates - Nana and Pop - as Daddy is away at school part-time. I haven't written about her first steps - or the fact that she now has a first sentence: "What's that!?" I haven't taken the time to talk about how sweet she is when she hugs her Baby Dolly or how ornery she is when she sticks out her tongue. I have to write about her slew of booboo's and falls. She is perfection wrapped up in one bubbly little girl.
So much is going on! I am so behind in everything!I want to write about so much, but I just don't feel my writing mojo lately.
Oh...writing mojo...where are you???
My goal is to take some time to blog more frequently. So I may start behind - but I will catch up! Just not tonight - the bugs are biting me on my patio and I've been staring at my computer screen all day. It's now time for me. :) Love to you all.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
A week shy of 1
Here I am - a week shy of Ireland turning 1. I just cannot believe it has been a year.
Time is a funny thing. I remember a period of my 20s where I thought time had actually stood still, I hated it. I was in a holding pattern of my life - waiting, desperately for something to change. Now, here I am wishing every day that time would stand still for a little bit, just slow down a little bit - for one more hug, one more kiss, one more snuggle.
It's been one year of being a mommy. One year of nursing my baby. One year of figuring out this parenting thing (yeah, I don't have it figured out yet). It's been one year kisses, hugs and tight swaddles. It's been one year of a a ride on this craziest emotional roller coaster ever - many crazy twists and turns. It's been one year of managing a baby on top of a marriage, two full-time careers, ending one masters degree and beginning another. It's been one year of diapers, bottle warmers, breast pumps and footed-pj's.
It has been - hands down - the best year of my life.
Time is a funny thing. I remember a period of my 20s where I thought time had actually stood still, I hated it. I was in a holding pattern of my life - waiting, desperately for something to change. Now, here I am wishing every day that time would stand still for a little bit, just slow down a little bit - for one more hug, one more kiss, one more snuggle.
It's been one year of being a mommy. One year of nursing my baby. One year of figuring out this parenting thing (yeah, I don't have it figured out yet). It's been one year kisses, hugs and tight swaddles. It's been one year of a a ride on this craziest emotional roller coaster ever - many crazy twists and turns. It's been one year of managing a baby on top of a marriage, two full-time careers, ending one masters degree and beginning another. It's been one year of diapers, bottle warmers, breast pumps and footed-pj's.
It has been - hands down - the best year of my life.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Ireland's First Surgery
Yesterday Ireland went in for her first surgery - ear tubes. Since February Ireland has had her left ear rupture two times. A week after the last rupture both ears were filled up with fluid yet again - while we were sparred another infection or rupture - it was determined that ear tubes would be best. We do not know how often her ears are filled with fluid and did not want her speech and/or hearing development to be affected.
I was 'looking forward' to the surgery - in so much that I was keeping focused on the outcome, the benefits. I was not looking forward to the fact that we could not feed Ireland after 12am. She is known for wanting a snack between 4am - 6am and I was worried how I would keep her 'happy' until 7:15am. I managed to give her a dream bottle at 11pm - something I haven't done since she was just a wee one.
Ireland slept until 6ish and cried just a bit, I was so happy! We got to the surgery center, bagels in hand for us and I wanted to eat it so bad, but I just couldn't eat it front of Ireland. Poor little thing. She was in great spirits before the surgery, playing in the waiting room and was full of her signature giggles.
We were called back and met with the nurses to get her weighed and such - and then we met the anesthesiologist. It was at that point that I freaked a little inside. I'm not one to think too much about the 'what ifs' of anesthesia, but of course now its different. The thought of my perfect little baby getting a mask of anesthesia put over her little face saddened me so much, it hurt my heart. Would she be scared? I wondered what it would feel like to be her, so tiny in her cute little fishy onesie - all alone one the surgery table surrounded by unfamiliar faces? I just felt sad for her. Finally our wonderful ENT came out to greet us, in his scrubs and he is such a peaceful, easy going man, he helped me put at ease. Finally, it was time to go.
As we walked out to the waiting room, we saw Ireland get carried away by a gentle nurse. It was torture to see my little baby girl getting carried into surgery while I was just watched her turn a corner and she was gone. I know this isn't brain surgery and I do not mean to liken it to such. But it doesn't matter what the procedure is. It's scary. Its my child, my tiny infant child, everything about her is a big deal to me.
True to the doctors word, we heard Ireland screaming about 15 minutes later. We went back to recovery there was a restless little Ireland - not awake, but as vocal as I remember her being the minute they took her out of my belly for the c-section - girlfriend has some strong lungs! We swaddled her, fed her and gave her Tylenol and rocked her for 30 minutes. We were granted persmission to go - no sooner were we in the car that she calmed down and slept for a few hours.
Ireland took naps on and off yesterday. In between her naps she would play hard and laugh like she still had a buzz. She was too cute and back to herself in no-time.
I am very thankful she was had a successful surgery without any adverse reactions to anesthesia. God certainly is good.
I was 'looking forward' to the surgery - in so much that I was keeping focused on the outcome, the benefits. I was not looking forward to the fact that we could not feed Ireland after 12am. She is known for wanting a snack between 4am - 6am and I was worried how I would keep her 'happy' until 7:15am. I managed to give her a dream bottle at 11pm - something I haven't done since she was just a wee one.
Ireland slept until 6ish and cried just a bit, I was so happy! We got to the surgery center, bagels in hand for us and I wanted to eat it so bad, but I just couldn't eat it front of Ireland. Poor little thing. She was in great spirits before the surgery, playing in the waiting room and was full of her signature giggles.
We were called back and met with the nurses to get her weighed and such - and then we met the anesthesiologist. It was at that point that I freaked a little inside. I'm not one to think too much about the 'what ifs' of anesthesia, but of course now its different. The thought of my perfect little baby getting a mask of anesthesia put over her little face saddened me so much, it hurt my heart. Would she be scared? I wondered what it would feel like to be her, so tiny in her cute little fishy onesie - all alone one the surgery table surrounded by unfamiliar faces? I just felt sad for her. Finally our wonderful ENT came out to greet us, in his scrubs and he is such a peaceful, easy going man, he helped me put at ease. Finally, it was time to go.
As we walked out to the waiting room, we saw Ireland get carried away by a gentle nurse. It was torture to see my little baby girl getting carried into surgery while I was just watched her turn a corner and she was gone. I know this isn't brain surgery and I do not mean to liken it to such. But it doesn't matter what the procedure is. It's scary. Its my child, my tiny infant child, everything about her is a big deal to me.
True to the doctors word, we heard Ireland screaming about 15 minutes later. We went back to recovery there was a restless little Ireland - not awake, but as vocal as I remember her being the minute they took her out of my belly for the c-section - girlfriend has some strong lungs! We swaddled her, fed her and gave her Tylenol and rocked her for 30 minutes. We were granted persmission to go - no sooner were we in the car that she calmed down and slept for a few hours.
Ireland took naps on and off yesterday. In between her naps she would play hard and laugh like she still had a buzz. She was too cute and back to herself in no-time.
I am very thankful she was had a successful surgery without any adverse reactions to anesthesia. God certainly is good.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Hanging on...one pump at a time
Here I am. June 6th. So close to Ireland's first birthday in terms of nursing, but not quite there. After almost 11 months of nursing, my body is giving out on me. The milk I produce at one time is quickly diminishing, I do not make enough milk to feed my daughter daily. But, I hang on, one pump at a time.
Why? Because I am addicted to my daughter and I just can't stop. Pumping through out the day gives me the ability to nurse her each morning. For the past month as my body gives out, I pump on! I enjoy each nursing session as if its our last - knowing that soon it WILL be our last. I stare at her beautiful face. I look down in awe that my body has sustained hers for nearly 11 months. I feel pride that I did not give up each time I thought I could find something better to do with my time. I have spent countless HOURS tied to my desk while pumping. I have pumped in cars, bathrooms, and at the beach. I have pumped in the Target cafe under an 'udder cover'. I have pumped in airport bathrooms and carried a big hospital grade pump (huge) and frozen bags of milk through TSA lines and connecting flights. I have nursed in all these places. I have sustained my child.
I never thought I would nurse. Now, I struggle with the reality that soon I will not be able to nurse. It will be a thing memory of my past, my first lesson in 'letting go' I have to face as a mother. My eyes fill with tears but my heart is full. I am proud of me. I am proud of Ireland. I am proud of us. So far, we've been a great team together. I love you, baby girl!
Why? Because I am addicted to my daughter and I just can't stop. Pumping through out the day gives me the ability to nurse her each morning. For the past month as my body gives out, I pump on! I enjoy each nursing session as if its our last - knowing that soon it WILL be our last. I stare at her beautiful face. I look down in awe that my body has sustained hers for nearly 11 months. I feel pride that I did not give up each time I thought I could find something better to do with my time. I have spent countless HOURS tied to my desk while pumping. I have pumped in cars, bathrooms, and at the beach. I have pumped in the Target cafe under an 'udder cover'. I have pumped in airport bathrooms and carried a big hospital grade pump (huge) and frozen bags of milk through TSA lines and connecting flights. I have nursed in all these places. I have sustained my child.
I never thought I would nurse. Now, I struggle with the reality that soon I will not be able to nurse. It will be a thing memory of my past, my first lesson in 'letting go' I have to face as a mother. My eyes fill with tears but my heart is full. I am proud of me. I am proud of Ireland. I am proud of us. So far, we've been a great team together. I love you, baby girl!
Monday, April 16, 2012
Preparing for the end of nursing
I am very emotional. Tonight is the night that I begin to drop one pumping session from my daily log of nursing.
I know I have said this before, but I meant it. I was never going to nurse. now, here I am, 9 months into my child's first year and I am sad and terrified of starting to ween my nursing.
I have to remember that I have given it a wonderful go. For 9 months I have supplied my daughter with the best of the best. I have provided her a gift that only I can provide her, and I have done it lovingly with little regard to the toll it has taken on my body and my time.
At this time, I am just not making enough milk to sustain my daughter on a daily basis. She is requiring more milk than my body can provide and she has not gained weight in months. Don't get me wrong, she isn't starving. Girlfriend can eat!
I am not getting sleep. Ireland sleeps a full 10-12 and yet I am still only averaging abut 4-5 hours of sleep a night due to my pumping regimen. As I type this, I am not as emotional as I am when I talk about it. I am so sad for the official end of nursing. We are still weeks, hopefully months away from the official end, but I am so so sad.
If you are reading this, I ask that you pray for us. Ireland doesn't like formula and I do not like giving it to her. However, she needs some of it integrated into her diet. I have to start to let go and do what is best for both us, but it doesn't make it easy.
I know I have said this before, but I meant it. I was never going to nurse. now, here I am, 9 months into my child's first year and I am sad and terrified of starting to ween my nursing.
I have to remember that I have given it a wonderful go. For 9 months I have supplied my daughter with the best of the best. I have provided her a gift that only I can provide her, and I have done it lovingly with little regard to the toll it has taken on my body and my time.
At this time, I am just not making enough milk to sustain my daughter on a daily basis. She is requiring more milk than my body can provide and she has not gained weight in months. Don't get me wrong, she isn't starving. Girlfriend can eat!
I am not getting sleep. Ireland sleeps a full 10-12 and yet I am still only averaging abut 4-5 hours of sleep a night due to my pumping regimen. As I type this, I am not as emotional as I am when I talk about it. I am so sad for the official end of nursing. We are still weeks, hopefully months away from the official end, but I am so so sad.
If you are reading this, I ask that you pray for us. Ireland doesn't like formula and I do not like giving it to her. However, she needs some of it integrated into her diet. I have to start to let go and do what is best for both us, but it doesn't make it easy.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
The Perfect Easter
Goodness, where does the time go? I think to myself all the time that I need to blog more, but I feel like all I do is blog less! Days and weeks go by and I let time lapse without a written memory of what we are experiencing, as I try very hard to savior each and every moment.
The month of March was fabulous. We had a ton of visitors - family and friends - people who came to see us, but mainly Ireland. :)
However, today I want to write about Easter. Easter is a special holiday. If you forget the Easter Bunny, peanut butter eggs and baskets full of fake grass, you will simply think about the reason for the season. Jesus was executed for us, for our sins, because he loved us so much. That's really pretty powerful. I feel as those this was the most busy and irrelevant Lenten experience I have had in years, yet it was one of the most powerful Easter's I've had in a long time. It just felt different.
So, why was this Easter so perfect? It just was. It's pretty simple. MP and I woke up at the sound of Ireland stirring bright and early. We brought Ireland out to see her Easter baskets filled with goodies. She received enough puffs to feed a small army of babies. Books, a few toys and stuffed animals. Far too many things then one baby should get and I am very grateful she has so many people that love her enough to treat her to such luxuries.
After she saw what the EB dropped her way, we went out to exercise. MP went on a run and Ireland and I went on a stroll. We were back in to get showered and ready for 10:30 mass. Mass was beautiful and so was the music. Ireland was extremely well behaved and even fell asleep on me right before communion. As I carried her on my chest up to communion I couldn't help but be overcome with emotion. Here I am with this baby, this innocent, loving, special baby that I would do anything for. I would die for her. I would give my life so she could live a long, healthy life. Finally, it clicked for me. This is what made this Easter special for me. It doesn't matter that I didn't attend every Sunday mass this Lent. Or that I messed up and ate some french fries. I now understand Lent and sacrifice on a whole different level. For once, in the smallest of ways, I have an inkling of an idea of what Jesus felt for his people. It's a very overwhelming feeling. Don't get me wrong, I'm not anything like Jesus. I'm not half as good as HE. But, I can kinda get it a bit.
After mass we met MVP and our friends for lunch. Ireland was dressed to the nines in her sailor gear looking cute as cute can be. The conversation was joyful and the mimosa was tasty.
After a long lunch we retreated to the ever awful Wal-mart for a few items and then made our way home to feed Ireland. Then, we got dressed for the pool and made our way to play with Ireland. As we sat in the sun, one of my favorite places, it felt as though time stopped for a bit. We weren't doing anything overly special, but we were together, just the three of us, in our own little bubble. Life was good. Life IS good. After almost two hours at the pool, we made our way home to feed the baby and put her to bed.
Ireland got in her jammies and watched baseball highlights with her dad while I made us an easy dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. Ireland went to bed nice and easy that night and MP and I just hung out.
It really was the perfect day.
The month of March was fabulous. We had a ton of visitors - family and friends - people who came to see us, but mainly Ireland. :)
However, today I want to write about Easter. Easter is a special holiday. If you forget the Easter Bunny, peanut butter eggs and baskets full of fake grass, you will simply think about the reason for the season. Jesus was executed for us, for our sins, because he loved us so much. That's really pretty powerful. I feel as those this was the most busy and irrelevant Lenten experience I have had in years, yet it was one of the most powerful Easter's I've had in a long time. It just felt different.
So, why was this Easter so perfect? It just was. It's pretty simple. MP and I woke up at the sound of Ireland stirring bright and early. We brought Ireland out to see her Easter baskets filled with goodies. She received enough puffs to feed a small army of babies. Books, a few toys and stuffed animals. Far too many things then one baby should get and I am very grateful she has so many people that love her enough to treat her to such luxuries.
After she saw what the EB dropped her way, we went out to exercise. MP went on a run and Ireland and I went on a stroll. We were back in to get showered and ready for 10:30 mass. Mass was beautiful and so was the music. Ireland was extremely well behaved and even fell asleep on me right before communion. As I carried her on my chest up to communion I couldn't help but be overcome with emotion. Here I am with this baby, this innocent, loving, special baby that I would do anything for. I would die for her. I would give my life so she could live a long, healthy life. Finally, it clicked for me. This is what made this Easter special for me. It doesn't matter that I didn't attend every Sunday mass this Lent. Or that I messed up and ate some french fries. I now understand Lent and sacrifice on a whole different level. For once, in the smallest of ways, I have an inkling of an idea of what Jesus felt for his people. It's a very overwhelming feeling. Don't get me wrong, I'm not anything like Jesus. I'm not half as good as HE. But, I can kinda get it a bit.
After mass we met MVP and our friends for lunch. Ireland was dressed to the nines in her sailor gear looking cute as cute can be. The conversation was joyful and the mimosa was tasty.
After a long lunch we retreated to the ever awful Wal-mart for a few items and then made our way home to feed Ireland. Then, we got dressed for the pool and made our way to play with Ireland. As we sat in the sun, one of my favorite places, it felt as though time stopped for a bit. We weren't doing anything overly special, but we were together, just the three of us, in our own little bubble. Life was good. Life IS good. After almost two hours at the pool, we made our way home to feed the baby and put her to bed.
Ireland got in her jammies and watched baseball highlights with her dad while I made us an easy dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. Ireland went to bed nice and easy that night and MP and I just hung out.
It really was the perfect day.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
A Glimpse at Ireland's Personality
I that I am biased when I say that my daughter is adorable 1500 hundred times a day. But really, she is.
We are a week out from 8 whole months of life. While I want to cry with every day that passes all too quickly, I love getting glimpses at the personality that is Ireland.
So Saturday we had two parties to go to. One was for the third birthday of a dear friend's daughter, Caitlin. Then we had a housewarming party that night.
Ireland did very well at the party surrounded with 'bigger' kids. She just dug her little grubby hands into Caitlin and Jake's toy bin and made herself at home. Really, she is comfortable so long as their are toys that can be promptly put her in her mouth. She learned to climb at Aunt Erin's and she even managed to knock herself square in the head a few times at Erin's, once banging it on the wall, good and hard. She looked like she was going to cry....but then she found a toy to put in her mouth....and we're back to good, comfortable and at home. Easy going? She must get that from her Daddy.
After a few cat naps and a few hours later, Ireland found herself playing on the floor of a brand new house. Along came cousins, little miss 2 year old and little mister pita child. LMP was all about antagonizing Ireland. About 4 years old, he thought it would be awesome just wave his hand all up in my child's grill, get in her face, 'pat' her head. The LM2YO just wanted to politely rub Ireland's head and point at her binky. As I wanted to nicely push this kid out of the way, I remembered that I cannot helicopter parent. So, no time like the current for Ireland show us what she is made of when bully kids get up in her face. Yeah, she just sat there, and hardly blinked at the kid...with this look....this look that made me proud that articulated: 'Yeah, that all you got?!' and he kept doing it, and she watched him act a fool a bit longer. Then, she sighed, like 'you bore me' and rolled to her knee's and started cruising away...to find a toy to put in her mouth I can only assume. But little miss and mister would not let Ireland get away so easily. Everywhere she went, they went. They wanted a piece of her and she was like, 'peace out, cub scout' and went about her business - you know, crawling, laughing, trying to weasel things like remotes and pulling herself up on things. A cute, but adorable, tough, handfull. Mine all mine.
Sunday morning MP ran to the bathroom while I was in the kitchen making Ireland baby food. (I was making a banana, blueberry and banana puree if you must know, delish!) Ireland was sitting on her playmat, torturing her mother by pulling up pieces of the playmat. Then I hea r THE giggle. The gut busting, belly full laughter giggle. I look over to see her and our cat Niki playing together. She is taking a piece of the mat and sticking it out, he would swat it and she would pull it back and giggle. Loud. It was the the most fun this girl has had in days. (Man, am I a boring parent or what?!) So, I can't get the video camera and I can't call MP b/c this would disrupt these two creatures in their 'natural' habit. (By natural I mean the fact that Ireland thinks Niki is her best friend and Niki has resolved to the fact that this pint sized, squealing midget isn't going anywhere, so he might as well join her). So I watched as she laughed so hard and he begrudgingly entertained her. Now, here's the kicker. She has never seen us play with Niki like that, even though that's what we do. How quickly they learn!
And finally, Ireland can turn her head when we call her name. She knows her name and I am certain she knows the word no. 'NO, Ireland, we do not stand in the bathtub.' "IRELAND AOIFE, I told you NO, we do not stand here". But, she'll stop. She'll look at me. She'll smile. She is my child. I'm certain she gets that from her mother.
I am doomed. But that's ok because for now, I am LOVING watching her personality unfold and this little tiny human become a personality. She smiles all the time, she shrieks and squeals with joy, she laughs when you tickle under her chin and inside her thighs. She LOVES the itsy bity spider and she is learning sign language. Her eyes light up when she see's her daddy and she crawls to me when I pick her up at day and squeezes my cheeks like I'm her favorite thing. She grabs my nose when I nurse her and strokes my hair before bed. She is the most amazing thing I have ever done.
I love you, Little Poops!
We are a week out from 8 whole months of life. While I want to cry with every day that passes all too quickly, I love getting glimpses at the personality that is Ireland.
So Saturday we had two parties to go to. One was for the third birthday of a dear friend's daughter, Caitlin. Then we had a housewarming party that night.
Ireland did very well at the party surrounded with 'bigger' kids. She just dug her little grubby hands into Caitlin and Jake's toy bin and made herself at home. Really, she is comfortable so long as their are toys that can be promptly put her in her mouth. She learned to climb at Aunt Erin's and she even managed to knock herself square in the head a few times at Erin's, once banging it on the wall, good and hard. She looked like she was going to cry....but then she found a toy to put in her mouth....and we're back to good, comfortable and at home. Easy going? She must get that from her Daddy.
After a few cat naps and a few hours later, Ireland found herself playing on the floor of a brand new house. Along came cousins, little miss 2 year old and little mister pita child. LMP was all about antagonizing Ireland. About 4 years old, he thought it would be awesome just wave his hand all up in my child's grill, get in her face, 'pat' her head. The LM2YO just wanted to politely rub Ireland's head and point at her binky. As I wanted to nicely push this kid out of the way, I remembered that I cannot helicopter parent. So, no time like the current for Ireland show us what she is made of when bully kids get up in her face. Yeah, she just sat there, and hardly blinked at the kid...with this look....this look that made me proud that articulated: 'Yeah, that all you got?!' and he kept doing it, and she watched him act a fool a bit longer. Then, she sighed, like 'you bore me' and rolled to her knee's and started cruising away...to find a toy to put in her mouth I can only assume. But little miss and mister would not let Ireland get away so easily. Everywhere she went, they went. They wanted a piece of her and she was like, 'peace out, cub scout' and went about her business - you know, crawling, laughing, trying to weasel things like remotes and pulling herself up on things. A cute, but adorable, tough, handfull. Mine all mine.
Sunday morning MP ran to the bathroom while I was in the kitchen making Ireland baby food. (I was making a banana, blueberry and banana puree if you must know, delish!) Ireland was sitting on her playmat, torturing her mother by pulling up pieces of the playmat. Then I hea r THE giggle. The gut busting, belly full laughter giggle. I look over to see her and our cat Niki playing together. She is taking a piece of the mat and sticking it out, he would swat it and she would pull it back and giggle. Loud. It was the the most fun this girl has had in days. (Man, am I a boring parent or what?!) So, I can't get the video camera and I can't call MP b/c this would disrupt these two creatures in their 'natural' habit. (By natural I mean the fact that Ireland thinks Niki is her best friend and Niki has resolved to the fact that this pint sized, squealing midget isn't going anywhere, so he might as well join her). So I watched as she laughed so hard and he begrudgingly entertained her. Now, here's the kicker. She has never seen us play with Niki like that, even though that's what we do. How quickly they learn!
And finally, Ireland can turn her head when we call her name. She knows her name and I am certain she knows the word no. 'NO, Ireland, we do not stand in the bathtub.' "IRELAND AOIFE, I told you NO, we do not stand here". But, she'll stop. She'll look at me. She'll smile. She is my child. I'm certain she gets that from her mother.
I am doomed. But that's ok because for now, I am LOVING watching her personality unfold and this little tiny human become a personality. She smiles all the time, she shrieks and squeals with joy, she laughs when you tickle under her chin and inside her thighs. She LOVES the itsy bity spider and she is learning sign language. Her eyes light up when she see's her daddy and she crawls to me when I pick her up at day and squeezes my cheeks like I'm her favorite thing. She grabs my nose when I nurse her and strokes my hair before bed. She is the most amazing thing I have ever done.
I love you, Little Poops!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
A Sick Lilttle Babe
I hear the words 'welcome to parenthood' go through my mind a lot these days. Every time I think I'm smooth sailing, something inevitably comes along that makes me remember that I am so amateur! HA!
So the ol'boss lady was coming into town so that we could go visit clients together. She isn't actually who I report to anymore and we never get to tag team like we used to, so I was really looking forward to going into clients together - the dynamic duo. Lisa got in yesterday and I was so excited! She called to let me know she would be over by 8pm. No sooner did she call that MP came home with a very sick Ireland.
Poor Little Babe was coughing and kinda wheezing and just really didn't sound like herself at all. She was even kind of moaning. Oh, what this does to my heart. It's just a little too much. It seems that I only ever call my doctor after hours. So, once I again I called his answering service. His nurse called back and after talking to the doctor it was determined we needed to go to urgent care.
Urgent care, while I am glad that I went, turned out to be a great waste of $75. Thankfully, Ireland doesn't have a bacterial infection, but she does have a lot of congestion and a cold. She is sneezing, coughing deep from the chest and the little midget is in so much pain. She just kinda moans and whimpers.
So, last night, MP ran out to Walmart to get Ireland a humidifier. We got that set-up in her room with a little pedi-vapors plug in. She was all set. She slept fairly well, but by 5:30am, it was apparent that she wouldn't be making it to daycare, just too sick. I couldn't send her - I couldn't let the other kids near her and I couldn't let her go there and not be consoled by her loved ones.
So, long story short, I had to cancel my afternoon meeting, Lisa flew home early and I didn't get to work all afternoon. While that sucks, and I'm going to go answer work emails now, tonight, it was so worth it. My poor little babe only wanted to be held by me. So, we took to camping in my bed. I got her all swaddled and we snuggled up. She slept for a few hours and by about 5:30 seemed to be doing better. We ate carrots, played and had a good bath time. I got to nurse a lot today instead of pumping. So, even though my day was turned upside down - as parenthood must allow for - it wasn't so bad getting to take care of the sweetest little babe I know.
So the ol'boss lady was coming into town so that we could go visit clients together. She isn't actually who I report to anymore and we never get to tag team like we used to, so I was really looking forward to going into clients together - the dynamic duo. Lisa got in yesterday and I was so excited! She called to let me know she would be over by 8pm. No sooner did she call that MP came home with a very sick Ireland.
Poor Little Babe was coughing and kinda wheezing and just really didn't sound like herself at all. She was even kind of moaning. Oh, what this does to my heart. It's just a little too much. It seems that I only ever call my doctor after hours. So, once I again I called his answering service. His nurse called back and after talking to the doctor it was determined we needed to go to urgent care.
Urgent care, while I am glad that I went, turned out to be a great waste of $75. Thankfully, Ireland doesn't have a bacterial infection, but she does have a lot of congestion and a cold. She is sneezing, coughing deep from the chest and the little midget is in so much pain. She just kinda moans and whimpers.
So, last night, MP ran out to Walmart to get Ireland a humidifier. We got that set-up in her room with a little pedi-vapors plug in. She was all set. She slept fairly well, but by 5:30am, it was apparent that she wouldn't be making it to daycare, just too sick. I couldn't send her - I couldn't let the other kids near her and I couldn't let her go there and not be consoled by her loved ones.
So, long story short, I had to cancel my afternoon meeting, Lisa flew home early and I didn't get to work all afternoon. While that sucks, and I'm going to go answer work emails now, tonight, it was so worth it. My poor little babe only wanted to be held by me. So, we took to camping in my bed. I got her all swaddled and we snuggled up. She slept for a few hours and by about 5:30 seemed to be doing better. We ate carrots, played and had a good bath time. I got to nurse a lot today instead of pumping. So, even though my day was turned upside down - as parenthood must allow for - it wasn't so bad getting to take care of the sweetest little babe I know.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
6.5 Months
Where does 6.5 months go? How is it possible that I just put to sleep a 6.5 month old baby?
This time last year, I was pregnant, in school and just waiting. Anxiously awaiting the arrival of Miss Ireland. Now, I find myself in full mother mode. It's all too much for me to take in sometimes.
Sometimes, I want and need time to slow down. I CONSTANTLY look at pictures of Ireland at birth, a week old, 2 weeks old, 2 months old, etc. My dad always laughs that I have too many pictures of Ireland, but I don't. Because I have almost a picture a day for the first 6 months and I can see the growth day to day, but I can't believe the growth. The pictures help remember.
I look at Ireland and I'm still in awe. How did we create such a magnificent and beautiful daughter? What did I do in life to get a baby that is so happy and smiles from ear to ear every day? How is it that she has been holding her own bottle for months? How is she crawling?
I look and Ireland and I wonder what she thinking. She is smart. She seems to always be thinking, calculating, and learning. Yet, she's so playful and just sits or crawls around saying 'lalalala' or 'dadada' in the sweetest little voice I ever did hear.
The days seem to short and they go too fast. I JUST put her to sleep, and I miss her already.
This time last year, I was pregnant, in school and just waiting. Anxiously awaiting the arrival of Miss Ireland. Now, I find myself in full mother mode. It's all too much for me to take in sometimes.
Sometimes, I want and need time to slow down. I CONSTANTLY look at pictures of Ireland at birth, a week old, 2 weeks old, 2 months old, etc. My dad always laughs that I have too many pictures of Ireland, but I don't. Because I have almost a picture a day for the first 6 months and I can see the growth day to day, but I can't believe the growth. The pictures help remember.
I look at Ireland and I'm still in awe. How did we create such a magnificent and beautiful daughter? What did I do in life to get a baby that is so happy and smiles from ear to ear every day? How is it that she has been holding her own bottle for months? How is she crawling?
I look and Ireland and I wonder what she thinking. She is smart. She seems to always be thinking, calculating, and learning. Yet, she's so playful and just sits or crawls around saying 'lalalala' or 'dadada' in the sweetest little voice I ever did hear.
The days seem to short and they go too fast. I JUST put her to sleep, and I miss her already.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Moving and Shaking
Well, its official, Ireland is a crawler.
At Thanksgiving, Ireland started crawling backwards. Yes, on all fours, backwards. Since then she has tried to crawl forward. By Christmas she was up on all fours, rocking, pulling a leg up and then...she'd stop. She just didn't seem to make the connection between her hands going forward and actually moving.
When we were in PA, she started to crawl forward, doing it a lot for Pop on Friday before we left. But now since we've been home, she's definitely refining this art form. Daycare is in for it! Ireland's teachers have said she could get wherever she wanted, by rolling and crawling backwards and even rotating around on all fours.
It seems however that she is less interested in crawling and way more interested in standing up. She does this 'downward dog' thing ALL the time. She is constantly trying to standup. I've had about 4 heart attacks just today watching her try do this.
This morning dad let me sleep in. I woke up an hour later to hearing Ireland scream 'DADA, DADA DADADDDADDAA'. I'm not sure yet that she is calling MP Dada, but man, she can say Dada.
How does this time fly so fast? How can we slow it down?
At Thanksgiving, Ireland started crawling backwards. Yes, on all fours, backwards. Since then she has tried to crawl forward. By Christmas she was up on all fours, rocking, pulling a leg up and then...she'd stop. She just didn't seem to make the connection between her hands going forward and actually moving.
When we were in PA, she started to crawl forward, doing it a lot for Pop on Friday before we left. But now since we've been home, she's definitely refining this art form. Daycare is in for it! Ireland's teachers have said she could get wherever she wanted, by rolling and crawling backwards and even rotating around on all fours.
It seems however that she is less interested in crawling and way more interested in standing up. She does this 'downward dog' thing ALL the time. She is constantly trying to standup. I've had about 4 heart attacks just today watching her try do this.
This morning dad let me sleep in. I woke up an hour later to hearing Ireland scream 'DADA, DADA DADADDDADDAA'. I'm not sure yet that she is calling MP Dada, but man, she can say Dada.
How does this time fly so fast? How can we slow it down?
Ireland's First Airplane Ride
As I sit down to write, I am astonished that it is already January 23rd! Where has this first month of the year gone already?
The last few weeks have flown by as we took Ireland on her first plane ride to a cold and balmy Pittsburgh, PA! I had to go away on business for work to Raleigh, NC so I had to leave the night before MP and Ireland. My first night away from MP and Ireland at the same time, that was no fun! My plane from Raleigh to Pittsburgh was delayed so I didn't get to my parents house until nearly 11pm. Too late to see Ireland. However, when I heard her cry, I did run up those steps and rock that beautiful baby back to sleep. Swoon!
MP said she did wonderful on her plane ride up to Pittsburgh. She slept half of the flight and was happy the rest. She was not as good for me, but darn near close. We both got sick in Pittsburgh and I think her ears were bothering her, so once she got a bottle on her way down, she was good to go!
Our trip to PA started off with a Thursday night out with some friends. Nan and Pop took Ireland on one of her fussy nights (thanks grandparents) and let us go out to the Southside to Fatheads for dinner. It so weird to drive down Carson street now. My life has changed so much since I spent my weekends there, its hard to explain. Its like I don't belong there and its just weird. But we had a great time and shared a lot of laughs with friends. It was great for my soul.
Friday we went to visit Natalie, MP's sister and her family. MP's Aunt Fran came to visit, too. It was a great time! We returned home with Ireland and I sick, and Pop not feeling well. We all survived a FABULOUS open house at my parents house on Sunday. About 40 people showed up to see us and meet Ireland. It was a great day. I am so thankful for all of our friends and family who drove up to see us. THANK YOU!!
The rest of our time in PA was not as expected as Pop ended up needing emergency surgery to get his appendix out. That put a bit of a kink in the rest of our plans, but mainly it was just disappointing for everyone b/c that was less time me and Ireland got with Pop. Thankfully, he is feeling better and is recovering well.
The rest of the trip I got to see some great friends, their kiddos and introduce Renee to Indian food! It was fabulous.
It is nice to be back, but its always sad to leave family and friends.
Thank you to everyone who made the trip to the cold northeast worth it! LOVE!
The last few weeks have flown by as we took Ireland on her first plane ride to a cold and balmy Pittsburgh, PA! I had to go away on business for work to Raleigh, NC so I had to leave the night before MP and Ireland. My first night away from MP and Ireland at the same time, that was no fun! My plane from Raleigh to Pittsburgh was delayed so I didn't get to my parents house until nearly 11pm. Too late to see Ireland. However, when I heard her cry, I did run up those steps and rock that beautiful baby back to sleep. Swoon!
MP said she did wonderful on her plane ride up to Pittsburgh. She slept half of the flight and was happy the rest. She was not as good for me, but darn near close. We both got sick in Pittsburgh and I think her ears were bothering her, so once she got a bottle on her way down, she was good to go!
Our trip to PA started off with a Thursday night out with some friends. Nan and Pop took Ireland on one of her fussy nights (thanks grandparents) and let us go out to the Southside to Fatheads for dinner. It so weird to drive down Carson street now. My life has changed so much since I spent my weekends there, its hard to explain. Its like I don't belong there and its just weird. But we had a great time and shared a lot of laughs with friends. It was great for my soul.
Friday we went to visit Natalie, MP's sister and her family. MP's Aunt Fran came to visit, too. It was a great time! We returned home with Ireland and I sick, and Pop not feeling well. We all survived a FABULOUS open house at my parents house on Sunday. About 40 people showed up to see us and meet Ireland. It was a great day. I am so thankful for all of our friends and family who drove up to see us. THANK YOU!!
The rest of our time in PA was not as expected as Pop ended up needing emergency surgery to get his appendix out. That put a bit of a kink in the rest of our plans, but mainly it was just disappointing for everyone b/c that was less time me and Ireland got with Pop. Thankfully, he is feeling better and is recovering well.
The rest of the trip I got to see some great friends, their kiddos and introduce Renee to Indian food! It was fabulous.
It is nice to be back, but its always sad to leave family and friends.
Thank you to everyone who made the trip to the cold northeast worth it! LOVE!
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Letting Go...
Letting go seems to be a theme that keeps recurring for me....and I don't like it.
As much as I love Ireland moving into the next phase, or doing something new or growing bigger, I always feel a twinge of pain when letting go of the previous phase.
I was very blessed to be given so many wonderful gifts and hand me downs for Ireland. As Ireland grows up, I simply don't have the room in my house to keep everything for if and when the next baby comes along. As a result, I donated Ireland's tummy time mat and her bouncer chair to daycare today. I felt so giving up the bouncer. Not because I may need it in the future, but because it means that is no longer a wee little baby. Oh, right through the heart. I just want to slow the time down a little bit, please! This is painful!
I remember when my BFF Missy was in town, Ireland was almost 2 months old. I had my first night of graduate school for the semester and was gone for hours...my longest time away from Ireland. I came home that night, rocked her to bed and cried, b/c it was all going too fast. I almost cried again last night with the introduction of the tooth. :(
Today when I went to pick up Ireland, she was a hoot. I got saw her sitting in a bumbo with her back to me. I got side tracked by a teacher who was talking to me on my way to go grab her. Once she heard my voice, she literally arched complete back (think back bend) and was staring at me upside down while I spoke...waiting patiently. Once I acknowledged her she starting fake crying until I scooped her up. What a little brat! I scooped her and got lots of hugs, kisses and smiles.
Then today Miss Val told me that Ireland was kissing one of the twin boys on his head today - what a FLIRT! That little hussy! :) Boy, am I going to be in trouble?
As much as I love Ireland moving into the next phase, or doing something new or growing bigger, I always feel a twinge of pain when letting go of the previous phase.
I was very blessed to be given so many wonderful gifts and hand me downs for Ireland. As Ireland grows up, I simply don't have the room in my house to keep everything for if and when the next baby comes along. As a result, I donated Ireland's tummy time mat and her bouncer chair to daycare today. I felt so giving up the bouncer. Not because I may need it in the future, but because it means that is no longer a wee little baby. Oh, right through the heart. I just want to slow the time down a little bit, please! This is painful!
I remember when my BFF Missy was in town, Ireland was almost 2 months old. I had my first night of graduate school for the semester and was gone for hours...my longest time away from Ireland. I came home that night, rocked her to bed and cried, b/c it was all going too fast. I almost cried again last night with the introduction of the tooth. :(
Today when I went to pick up Ireland, she was a hoot. I got saw her sitting in a bumbo with her back to me. I got side tracked by a teacher who was talking to me on my way to go grab her. Once she heard my voice, she literally arched complete back (think back bend) and was staring at me upside down while I spoke...waiting patiently. Once I acknowledged her she starting fake crying until I scooped her up. What a little brat! I scooped her and got lots of hugs, kisses and smiles.
Then today Miss Val told me that Ireland was kissing one of the twin boys on his head today - what a FLIRT! That little hussy! :) Boy, am I going to be in trouble?
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
An exciting start to the New Year!
Today was my first day back to work since Christmas Eve. It was so nice to have time off as it was unexpected and my parents were here. Additionally, it was so awesome to hang out with Ireland again, I love that little peanut.
It was a bit rough getting up this morning. I brought her into my bed to nurse her around 8am and she was just so sweet and cuddly. She would stop nursing to stare up at me and brush my face. Oh, how I love it. I didn't want to let it end. You know, as someone who never planned to breastfeed, its moments just like that which remind me why I am so happy that I do. The bonding is the best part, ever.
Relentlessly - I took her to daycare and her teachers were very happy to see her. :) They missed her.
By about 2pm, I was missing Ireland pretty bad. I was very anxious to go retrieve her. So I walk in and Miss Keiza says "She has tooth?" I said, "What?!" and she said "I thought you knew!" HA So there it is, Ireland has one tooth! She just cut the bottom left one today! And the bottom right one is darn near close it seems! My little baby girl! Oh, as excited as I am, it breaks my heart, too. TOO FAST!!
Additionally, Ireland reached for me for the first time. It was amazing. I sat down by her and Miss Val at daycare and she reached out for me to hold her. I about died. She was so happy and cheerful and just so full of smiles when she saw me. I could take that moment over and over in my life. It's the best!
Then Miss Ireland went to grab a toy from another little baby. Oye! We can't start that!
We came home tonight and played. We cuddled. We read. It was a perfect night! :)
It was a bit rough getting up this morning. I brought her into my bed to nurse her around 8am and she was just so sweet and cuddly. She would stop nursing to stare up at me and brush my face. Oh, how I love it. I didn't want to let it end. You know, as someone who never planned to breastfeed, its moments just like that which remind me why I am so happy that I do. The bonding is the best part, ever.
Relentlessly - I took her to daycare and her teachers were very happy to see her. :) They missed her.
By about 2pm, I was missing Ireland pretty bad. I was very anxious to go retrieve her. So I walk in and Miss Keiza says "She has tooth?" I said, "What?!" and she said "I thought you knew!" HA So there it is, Ireland has one tooth! She just cut the bottom left one today! And the bottom right one is darn near close it seems! My little baby girl! Oh, as excited as I am, it breaks my heart, too. TOO FAST!!
Additionally, Ireland reached for me for the first time. It was amazing. I sat down by her and Miss Val at daycare and she reached out for me to hold her. I about died. She was so happy and cheerful and just so full of smiles when she saw me. I could take that moment over and over in my life. It's the best!
Then Miss Ireland went to grab a toy from another little baby. Oye! We can't start that!
We came home tonight and played. We cuddled. We read. It was a perfect night! :)
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Pumping out 2011
As I sit and pump for the eighty-billionth time in 2011, I thought I would share a few thoughts. I can't believe it's been over a month since I blogged. I have been swamped...and lazy since the conclusion of graduate school - and the holiday frenzy didn't help!
I can't believe the end of 2011 is here....already. Hands down the fastest year of my life yet. Hands down one of the best years of my life yet. Everyone always says that their wedding day is the best day of their life. That's not the case for me. My wedding day was a damn great day, filled with so many emotions, laughs, tears, good times, even questionable times (ha) but it wasn't the greatest. The greatest day of my life was July 14, 2011. That was the day that Ireland came into my life. (My second best day is my engagement day if you must know!)
Ireland has certainly brought so much purpose into my life. She is amazing. She is beautiful. She is smart. She is ours. She is MINE! She has brought chaos into my life, but a beautiful chaos that I'll take any day if it means I get her. :) She is our blessing. She makes me want to be a better person, mom, friend, follower of God. I want to be the best I can be for her.
I was pregnant for over half of 2011 - and at times, I miss being pregnant. I LOVED being pregnant. I knew that I liked being pregnant when I was pregnant, but now, I know I loved it. I miss it. I'm not ready to be pregnant again by any means, but it was a fun part of 2011. I loved the anticipation and the kindness around from people, but really - I LOVED having Ireland in my belly, kicking and playing. She would kick, I would poke and she would kick back. In the end, when I was as big as a house and had trouble sleeping, she was with me, and I loved that.
MP and I sat down today and documented our goals for 2012. We have a great list of personal, professional, financial and spiritual goals lined up, both together and alone. We have a vision for our life together, for our family and for ourselves. I know that its likely our life may not go according to our plan - but I always love our determination and ability to make a goal and stick to it, to see it through. It just reminds me that we are an amazing team and even if we veer of course - we always end up where we are supposed to be - together! :)
There are a few goals that I have that are just mine for fun - A few of them for 2012 are:
1. To blog more. I want Ireland to be able to look back and read how much we did with her, for her, because we love her.
2. I want to read one or two classic books I never read - Jane Austen will be my first - recommended to me by Sola.
3. I want to soak in as much as time with Ireland as I can - quit worrying about cleaning the house or picking up the clutter - just do a lot more reading, playing and snuggling with Ireland.
4. I want to get some photobooks together - not Shutterfly ones. Real ones, where the ends will fray some day. :)
Here's to a Happy New Year! See ya NEXT year! :)
XO
I can't believe the end of 2011 is here....already. Hands down the fastest year of my life yet. Hands down one of the best years of my life yet. Everyone always says that their wedding day is the best day of their life. That's not the case for me. My wedding day was a damn great day, filled with so many emotions, laughs, tears, good times, even questionable times (ha) but it wasn't the greatest. The greatest day of my life was July 14, 2011. That was the day that Ireland came into my life. (My second best day is my engagement day if you must know!)
Ireland has certainly brought so much purpose into my life. She is amazing. She is beautiful. She is smart. She is ours. She is MINE! She has brought chaos into my life, but a beautiful chaos that I'll take any day if it means I get her. :) She is our blessing. She makes me want to be a better person, mom, friend, follower of God. I want to be the best I can be for her.
I was pregnant for over half of 2011 - and at times, I miss being pregnant. I LOVED being pregnant. I knew that I liked being pregnant when I was pregnant, but now, I know I loved it. I miss it. I'm not ready to be pregnant again by any means, but it was a fun part of 2011. I loved the anticipation and the kindness around from people, but really - I LOVED having Ireland in my belly, kicking and playing. She would kick, I would poke and she would kick back. In the end, when I was as big as a house and had trouble sleeping, she was with me, and I loved that.
MP and I sat down today and documented our goals for 2012. We have a great list of personal, professional, financial and spiritual goals lined up, both together and alone. We have a vision for our life together, for our family and for ourselves. I know that its likely our life may not go according to our plan - but I always love our determination and ability to make a goal and stick to it, to see it through. It just reminds me that we are an amazing team and even if we veer of course - we always end up where we are supposed to be - together! :)
There are a few goals that I have that are just mine for fun - A few of them for 2012 are:
1. To blog more. I want Ireland to be able to look back and read how much we did with her, for her, because we love her.
2. I want to read one or two classic books I never read - Jane Austen will be my first - recommended to me by Sola.
3. I want to soak in as much as time with Ireland as I can - quit worrying about cleaning the house or picking up the clutter - just do a lot more reading, playing and snuggling with Ireland.
4. I want to get some photobooks together - not Shutterfly ones. Real ones, where the ends will fray some day. :)
Here's to a Happy New Year! See ya NEXT year! :)
XO
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
My Ode to Graduate School
The end of graduate school that is! It's hard to believe that I am merely 48 hours away from being completely finished with graduate school.
I was never that kid that thought about college when I as little. No, I was too busy thinking about riding bikes, playing in the dirt and socializing with my friends. (Actually, I still think about all those things, hee hee). Even in high school I was more concerned with my social life and sports rather than academia. But once I got really rolling and found my niche in college, graduate school became a goal that I thought about often.
My senior year of college I thought a lot about graduate school. I thought a lot about graduate school in Florida. I also thought a lot about graduate school so that I would not have to enter the 'real' world. The night before I graduated from undergrad, the Dean of Student Services said I could come back to graduate school there (at Cal) and he would help me get a graduate assistant position. Score!! Now that's a FREE party! Yet, I didn't end up in graduate school in Florida (then) and I didn't take advantage of the party extension. Nothing felt right. So, into the working world I went. I'm too embarrassed to admit what my first 'professional' job paid me right out of college. All I can say is Thank God I had parents that let me live at home and didn't charge me rent!
I applied to graduate school a year later. I applied to a school in Virgina where one of my best friends was attending graduate school. I was weight-listed and eventually did not make the cut. I was bummed. I was lost.
A few years later I was growing restless and ready to consider graduate school again. I explored a few options in Pittsburgh, but again, nothing felt right.
I moved to Florida and lived here for 2 years before I got the itch for school again. I found the Adult Education program and sat on it for a bit. I found myself restless again and I realized this was my time finally fulfill my goal of obtaining my master's degree. So I applied...I got accepted...and life has flown by.
In the 2.5 years it took me to earn this degree, my life has changed so much. MP proposed to me shortly before my first semester started. I purchased my first house, solely in my name (proud of that!) and closed on it the week of my first graduate class. MP and I began to completely remodel this house at the same time. We were also planning our wedding. Shortly after school started, we lost MP's mom. And I was working full time. My priorities changed, my goals changed and as a result, a lot of my relationships changed. There would be days I would wake at 5am to write a paper, work from 9-5, work on the house until 9 and then work on school work until midnight. I didn't get to enjoy Football Sundays as much and I was on edge a lot, spread too thin. But I did it. I got through my first semester. I think there is one project or assignment each semester that I dreaded like the plague. For some reason, my second semester I was tasked with creating a podcast. I had zero interest in taking the time to do that project. I remember doing 80% of my class assignments the last weekend of the semester, about three weeks before I got married. I no longer need to spend my free Saturdays and Sundays doing school work. Blech!
I started my third semester late - having gotten married and going on my honeymoon for the two weeks of the shortened semester. That summer was spent reading a lot at the pool. I remember the weekend that session ended, I fell asleep at 8pm on Saturday and didn't wake up until 12 noon on Sunday. I was beat.
Last fall I found out I was pregnant, right in the heart of my busiest semester ever. I would sit in my class trying not to vomit as 'morning' sickness would kill me each night. Months 4-8 of my pregnancy consisted of me going to a night class twice a week, getting bigger and peeing more each week. I barely fit in the desk by the end of the semester.
I started this last semester when Ireland was about 6 weeks old. I started this semester before I returned to work. The beginning of the semester was the sign that maternity leave would soon come to a close. I had a book that I had to read for an assignment that sat on my ottoman for a month, because every time I looked at it, I thought Ireland was much more fun. It was a struggle to get and stay focused this semester. But, I did it. I made it. Well, almost. In 48 hours, after I read 4 more papers and do a mock defense, I can say I did it.
I would not have done it without MP. Not only has he been one of my biggest cheerleaders, but he has TOLERATED me. That alone deserves an award
My mom has listened to me bitch about school, or something that was affected by school. She too has cheered me on and rooted for me. She also owes me $5 for every A. :)
My big icker (big sister) was another cheerleader. It was her who got me to actually do the podcast projects when I was tempted to take a zero for the project. She's also one of the only people who truly understands what its like to have insomnia and I love that she 'gets' it. Even though it is a shitty thing to 'get'.
I am so excited to wear my hooded graduate regalia in a few weeks. I am so excited that I finally accomplished a goal that kept popping into my life. I look forward to the possibilities this education brings into my life.
To PhD or not...that IS the question! I can say that I won't PhD for a while...but I hope that goal will creep up in my life until I accomplish that, too!
But for now - I'm hoping to sleep. I'm hoping to exercise more. I'm hoping to sit on the couch more. I know I will play with Ireland more and read all those books like 'The Help' that I've put off for 2.5 years.
Hello Free Time!
I was never that kid that thought about college when I as little. No, I was too busy thinking about riding bikes, playing in the dirt and socializing with my friends. (Actually, I still think about all those things, hee hee). Even in high school I was more concerned with my social life and sports rather than academia. But once I got really rolling and found my niche in college, graduate school became a goal that I thought about often.
My senior year of college I thought a lot about graduate school. I thought a lot about graduate school in Florida. I also thought a lot about graduate school so that I would not have to enter the 'real' world. The night before I graduated from undergrad, the Dean of Student Services said I could come back to graduate school there (at Cal) and he would help me get a graduate assistant position. Score!! Now that's a FREE party! Yet, I didn't end up in graduate school in Florida (then) and I didn't take advantage of the party extension. Nothing felt right. So, into the working world I went. I'm too embarrassed to admit what my first 'professional' job paid me right out of college. All I can say is Thank God I had parents that let me live at home and didn't charge me rent!
I applied to graduate school a year later. I applied to a school in Virgina where one of my best friends was attending graduate school. I was weight-listed and eventually did not make the cut. I was bummed. I was lost.
A few years later I was growing restless and ready to consider graduate school again. I explored a few options in Pittsburgh, but again, nothing felt right.
I moved to Florida and lived here for 2 years before I got the itch for school again. I found the Adult Education program and sat on it for a bit. I found myself restless again and I realized this was my time finally fulfill my goal of obtaining my master's degree. So I applied...I got accepted...and life has flown by.
In the 2.5 years it took me to earn this degree, my life has changed so much. MP proposed to me shortly before my first semester started. I purchased my first house, solely in my name (proud of that!) and closed on it the week of my first graduate class. MP and I began to completely remodel this house at the same time. We were also planning our wedding. Shortly after school started, we lost MP's mom. And I was working full time. My priorities changed, my goals changed and as a result, a lot of my relationships changed. There would be days I would wake at 5am to write a paper, work from 9-5, work on the house until 9 and then work on school work until midnight. I didn't get to enjoy Football Sundays as much and I was on edge a lot, spread too thin. But I did it. I got through my first semester. I think there is one project or assignment each semester that I dreaded like the plague. For some reason, my second semester I was tasked with creating a podcast. I had zero interest in taking the time to do that project. I remember doing 80% of my class assignments the last weekend of the semester, about three weeks before I got married. I no longer need to spend my free Saturdays and Sundays doing school work. Blech!
I started my third semester late - having gotten married and going on my honeymoon for the two weeks of the shortened semester. That summer was spent reading a lot at the pool. I remember the weekend that session ended, I fell asleep at 8pm on Saturday and didn't wake up until 12 noon on Sunday. I was beat.
Last fall I found out I was pregnant, right in the heart of my busiest semester ever. I would sit in my class trying not to vomit as 'morning' sickness would kill me each night. Months 4-8 of my pregnancy consisted of me going to a night class twice a week, getting bigger and peeing more each week. I barely fit in the desk by the end of the semester.
I started this last semester when Ireland was about 6 weeks old. I started this semester before I returned to work. The beginning of the semester was the sign that maternity leave would soon come to a close. I had a book that I had to read for an assignment that sat on my ottoman for a month, because every time I looked at it, I thought Ireland was much more fun. It was a struggle to get and stay focused this semester. But, I did it. I made it. Well, almost. In 48 hours, after I read 4 more papers and do a mock defense, I can say I did it.
I would not have done it without MP. Not only has he been one of my biggest cheerleaders, but he has TOLERATED me. That alone deserves an award
My mom has listened to me bitch about school, or something that was affected by school. She too has cheered me on and rooted for me. She also owes me $5 for every A. :)
My big icker (big sister) was another cheerleader. It was her who got me to actually do the podcast projects when I was tempted to take a zero for the project. She's also one of the only people who truly understands what its like to have insomnia and I love that she 'gets' it. Even though it is a shitty thing to 'get'.
I am so excited to wear my hooded graduate regalia in a few weeks. I am so excited that I finally accomplished a goal that kept popping into my life. I look forward to the possibilities this education brings into my life.
To PhD or not...that IS the question! I can say that I won't PhD for a while...but I hope that goal will creep up in my life until I accomplish that, too!
But for now - I'm hoping to sleep. I'm hoping to exercise more. I'm hoping to sit on the couch more. I know I will play with Ireland more and read all those books like 'The Help' that I've put off for 2.5 years.
Hello Free Time!
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
I'm on my second beer...
They say beer helps you produce more breast milk.....at this point, I just like the taste.
I have had a day. Not a bad day. Not an amazing day. Just a normal day that somehow feels different due to a bunch of emotions...
I feel like I could write about a lot of things and I'm experiencing high amounts of ADD today....so bear with me as I share some highs and lows, in no particular order.
Low
I think, as a result of my weekend trip, that I'm losing my milk production, again. I am working hard, again, to increase it. I think using my hand pump all weekend was not as good as using the hospital grade pump I am typically attached to. So, today I have created significantly less milk. The emotional roller coaster this puts me on is insane. On Friday, I had more milk then I can could handle and had to get freezer bags at the beach to store. Today, I am ripping through my frozen stash. Exhausting. Furthermore, I need to up the amount of per bottle mama juice that I give Ireland. So, looks like we are going to be introducing a few ounces of formula a day before long. I am not going to sit here and share the 100 reasons why I do not want to give her formula. But, I don't want to, bottom line. So my heart hurts. My head hurts. My boobs hurt. I am defeated. I feel inadequate and it pisses me off. There is nothing anyone can say. I know I am not a bad mom because I have to give formula. I would be a bad mom if I don't, and I let my child starve. However, it pisses me off. It pisses me off that my body is not cooperating. And right now its hard to accept. I will get over it. Ireland will be fine. But today, dammit, I am emotional about it. I can cry about it at the drop of a hat, as I started to at daycare. I am a hot mess.
High
Daycare - You know, when I write that hefty check each month to let someone else care for my child, it is something else that breaks my heart. I do not know that I want to be a full time stay at home mom, but I also do not want to miss out on the day to day adventures of my amazing daughter. The last few times I've been to daycare to bring or pick up Ireland, I have been pleased. I realized that I really like this daycare. I remember the day that MP and I toured daycare facilities and I kept coming back to this one.I am SO glad that I did. These women that I've gotten to know, they love my child. My child actually brightens their day. Knowing this fills my heart with warmth on a level I have never felt before. These women, who are amazing at what they do, look forward to seeing my child. How cool is that?!?! Miss Val will outright tell you that she loves all her babies, but that Ireland is her girl. She will call her 'boo' and is sad when Ireland leaves. She has three children of her own, two of which attend the same daycare. She gets my pain, whether she realizes she does or not. And her adoration of my child helps me leave that classroom every day. I trust she is in good hands. I also love that they do so much with the kids. Today, I watched as Ireland laid on her tummy watching Miss Tasha read a book to the kids. I laughed as all three teachers were watching Ireland try to crawl, in amazement saying she is so smart. (Yes, my almost 4 month old girl is trying to move, she can scoot and rotate). Then today they told me that some of the other parents call Ireland the showoff - because her tummy/head lifting skills are stronger than some kids older than her. It may be something silly, but it only reaffirms that my work with Ireland already is not wasted. Not because she is doing something before someone else. But because my efforts are not wasted. Every time I put her on her belly and encourage her to roll over - it paid off, I helped my child learn skills. My child is a rolling queen. My efforts of reading to her every day has paid off, because she is watching a teacher read and enjoying it. One small win for the mom today.
Low
Godparents - speaking of Ireland and what's good for her...
I know that at the end of the day love is the most important thing that anyone can give Ireland. It doesn't matter if she has formula or if her rolling skills are above par. What matters is that she is loved unconditionally.
Go with me on this....I'll get to the point....
In the Catholic church, I have two Godparents. In my heart, I have one Godparent - My Godmother, who I call my Fairy God Mother. In my heart and in my book, you don't just get the name of Fairy God Mother because you are a Godmother. You EARN the title... and my Godmother did just that. My Godfather on the other hand failed me. He also failed his deceased brother, my father. Shit happens. I get it. Its a tired old story about abandonment and I refuse to be defeated by it. I love despite it.
I got the news early Monday morning that my Godfather passed away. I knew the day was coming. I am sad that he is gone. I am sad for his wife because I cannot fathom what it is like to lose your only ally left in life. I am sad for my aunt and uncle who lost a brother, again, far too young. I am also very sad that its final. There is no more chance of redemption of his behalf. I gave him chances that he didn't take, but I am pleased I saw him right after I was married and that he got to meet my amazing husband. I loved this man, unconditionally, even when others thought I was wrong to love. I loved him when he gave me no reason to. I have no regrets. I choose not to be angry. I pray that he rests in peace, finally pain free. I hope that my father has greeted him with open arms.
All of this got me thinking about Ireland and the Godparents I chose for her. I pray that she never knows the pain I have felt from being forgotten by a Godparent. Maybe my Fairy Godmother set the bar too high. But, in my book, a Godparent is an ally. It's a best friend, a confidant. It is someone who spoils you, even when you don't deserve it. It someone who goes above and beyond - in anyway that they can when they can. That is what I hope that Ireland gets out of the people I asked to be her Godparents. I think she will. But it just reminded me how there are going to be so many things in Ireland's life that I can't control. That I will be unable to shelter her from. Pain that she will feel that I will feel worse. I just hope that Ireland always has family that remembers that she is a kid that deserves love, always, even when she is 31 and parenting her own kid.
High
I ran a mile today without stopping. Small feat for most, but I hate running. I'm also running with boobs bigger than my face and more weight on my body than I should have. I'm going to keep pushing it.
High/Low
I hate to be vague. TRUST ME, I hate to vague, but I have to be for now. I have a potential change on the horizon. I am praying that it transpires. It's a high because I love a hopeful future. Low because if it doesn't pan out, I will be bummed, even if its what is meant to be.
High
Graduate school is ALMOST over. 2.5 years of working my butt off is about to come to a close. It feels GOOD.
High
My daughter has the best smile, ever, and a laugh that is the sweetest sound I have ever heard. We played tonight. We read books. We giggled and laid on our sides and snuggled each other. She fell asleep in my lap.
High
My husband did the dishes and cleaned out the garage today.
Well look at that. The highs outweigh the lows...guess its always in perspective! :)
I have had a day. Not a bad day. Not an amazing day. Just a normal day that somehow feels different due to a bunch of emotions...
I feel like I could write about a lot of things and I'm experiencing high amounts of ADD today....so bear with me as I share some highs and lows, in no particular order.
Low
I think, as a result of my weekend trip, that I'm losing my milk production, again. I am working hard, again, to increase it. I think using my hand pump all weekend was not as good as using the hospital grade pump I am typically attached to. So, today I have created significantly less milk. The emotional roller coaster this puts me on is insane. On Friday, I had more milk then I can could handle and had to get freezer bags at the beach to store. Today, I am ripping through my frozen stash. Exhausting. Furthermore, I need to up the amount of per bottle mama juice that I give Ireland. So, looks like we are going to be introducing a few ounces of formula a day before long. I am not going to sit here and share the 100 reasons why I do not want to give her formula. But, I don't want to, bottom line. So my heart hurts. My head hurts. My boobs hurt. I am defeated. I feel inadequate and it pisses me off. There is nothing anyone can say. I know I am not a bad mom because I have to give formula. I would be a bad mom if I don't, and I let my child starve. However, it pisses me off. It pisses me off that my body is not cooperating. And right now its hard to accept. I will get over it. Ireland will be fine. But today, dammit, I am emotional about it. I can cry about it at the drop of a hat, as I started to at daycare. I am a hot mess.
High
Daycare - You know, when I write that hefty check each month to let someone else care for my child, it is something else that breaks my heart. I do not know that I want to be a full time stay at home mom, but I also do not want to miss out on the day to day adventures of my amazing daughter. The last few times I've been to daycare to bring or pick up Ireland, I have been pleased. I realized that I really like this daycare. I remember the day that MP and I toured daycare facilities and I kept coming back to this one.I am SO glad that I did. These women that I've gotten to know, they love my child. My child actually brightens their day. Knowing this fills my heart with warmth on a level I have never felt before. These women, who are amazing at what they do, look forward to seeing my child. How cool is that?!?! Miss Val will outright tell you that she loves all her babies, but that Ireland is her girl. She will call her 'boo' and is sad when Ireland leaves. She has three children of her own, two of which attend the same daycare. She gets my pain, whether she realizes she does or not. And her adoration of my child helps me leave that classroom every day. I trust she is in good hands. I also love that they do so much with the kids. Today, I watched as Ireland laid on her tummy watching Miss Tasha read a book to the kids. I laughed as all three teachers were watching Ireland try to crawl, in amazement saying she is so smart. (Yes, my almost 4 month old girl is trying to move, she can scoot and rotate). Then today they told me that some of the other parents call Ireland the showoff - because her tummy/head lifting skills are stronger than some kids older than her. It may be something silly, but it only reaffirms that my work with Ireland already is not wasted. Not because she is doing something before someone else. But because my efforts are not wasted. Every time I put her on her belly and encourage her to roll over - it paid off, I helped my child learn skills. My child is a rolling queen. My efforts of reading to her every day has paid off, because she is watching a teacher read and enjoying it. One small win for the mom today.
Low
Godparents - speaking of Ireland and what's good for her...
I know that at the end of the day love is the most important thing that anyone can give Ireland. It doesn't matter if she has formula or if her rolling skills are above par. What matters is that she is loved unconditionally.
Go with me on this....I'll get to the point....
In the Catholic church, I have two Godparents. In my heart, I have one Godparent - My Godmother, who I call my Fairy God Mother. In my heart and in my book, you don't just get the name of Fairy God Mother because you are a Godmother. You EARN the title... and my Godmother did just that. My Godfather on the other hand failed me. He also failed his deceased brother, my father. Shit happens. I get it. Its a tired old story about abandonment and I refuse to be defeated by it. I love despite it.
I got the news early Monday morning that my Godfather passed away. I knew the day was coming. I am sad that he is gone. I am sad for his wife because I cannot fathom what it is like to lose your only ally left in life. I am sad for my aunt and uncle who lost a brother, again, far too young. I am also very sad that its final. There is no more chance of redemption of his behalf. I gave him chances that he didn't take, but I am pleased I saw him right after I was married and that he got to meet my amazing husband. I loved this man, unconditionally, even when others thought I was wrong to love. I loved him when he gave me no reason to. I have no regrets. I choose not to be angry. I pray that he rests in peace, finally pain free. I hope that my father has greeted him with open arms.
All of this got me thinking about Ireland and the Godparents I chose for her. I pray that she never knows the pain I have felt from being forgotten by a Godparent. Maybe my Fairy Godmother set the bar too high. But, in my book, a Godparent is an ally. It's a best friend, a confidant. It is someone who spoils you, even when you don't deserve it. It someone who goes above and beyond - in anyway that they can when they can. That is what I hope that Ireland gets out of the people I asked to be her Godparents. I think she will. But it just reminded me how there are going to be so many things in Ireland's life that I can't control. That I will be unable to shelter her from. Pain that she will feel that I will feel worse. I just hope that Ireland always has family that remembers that she is a kid that deserves love, always, even when she is 31 and parenting her own kid.
High
I ran a mile today without stopping. Small feat for most, but I hate running. I'm also running with boobs bigger than my face and more weight on my body than I should have. I'm going to keep pushing it.
High/Low
I hate to be vague. TRUST ME, I hate to vague, but I have to be for now. I have a potential change on the horizon. I am praying that it transpires. It's a high because I love a hopeful future. Low because if it doesn't pan out, I will be bummed, even if its what is meant to be.
High
Graduate school is ALMOST over. 2.5 years of working my butt off is about to come to a close. It feels GOOD.
High
My daughter has the best smile, ever, and a laugh that is the sweetest sound I have ever heard. We played tonight. We read books. We giggled and laid on our sides and snuggled each other. She fell asleep in my lap.
High
My husband did the dishes and cleaned out the garage today.
Well look at that. The highs outweigh the lows...guess its always in perspective! :)
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Travelling with Ireland
Well, we did it. We made our first trip with Ireland - and all three of us came out alive...well...basically anyhow.
MP has been competing in triathlons, and I intend to do my first one in May. As a result, when MP suggested we take off to Panama City Beach, Florida to watch the Florida Ironman, I said, "lets go!"
We briefly discussed asking a few people to watch Ireland for the weekend, but in the end we didn't think it was the right thing to do. Plus, I think we both needed something to give us our first taste of travelling with a mini us.
I spent last week putting together a list of things I would need to bring. You know, because this is what women do. The men just focus on rushing our asses out the door. So, in an effort to be prepared, I worked off my list. I got up early on Friday and got a bag together for Ireland and I...score! Then I got all the other bags....
We loaded up and got on our way around 3pm on Friday, after swinging by daycare to pick up the love of our lives. Off we went.... Ireland napped right away until about 5pm. We stopped to eat and soon after we got back on the road she slept again until 10pm. I thought this would be a recipe for disaster, setting her up for no sleep that night in the hotel. But, we were lucky.
We got to the hotel and checked in and got her in her PJ's. She was anxious to do tummy time, so we set her on the bed and she just showed us how she can hold her head up! Then she showed us her new trick which is turning around to watch someone and 'scooting'. After a bit, we shut off the lives and off to bed she went.
We got up bright and early on Saturday to watch the beginning of the race. The professionals were due in the water at 6:50am. No thank you. But, we were there to watch them dive into the 68 degree water while it was like 48 outside. Ireland was in the Baby Bjorn, all bundled up, keeping me warm! She napped and I used her blanket as a wind breaker.
We then spent the rest of the day either "watching people exercise" as Renee would say or arguing. Aruging about where to watch, what to do eat, when to go back to the hotel to give the baby a nap, and so forth. It was also spent watching some amazing atheletes. The respect I have for these folks in intense.
Travellign with a four month old baby was a whole new exerience. I do not regret it and I will do it again. But it did remind me that MP and I desperately need a night or two away, withou little Miss Ireland. I think it would serve all three of us very well.
We made it back in time to relax a little - and I finished my comps! Wahoo!
So tired....
MP has been competing in triathlons, and I intend to do my first one in May. As a result, when MP suggested we take off to Panama City Beach, Florida to watch the Florida Ironman, I said, "lets go!"
We briefly discussed asking a few people to watch Ireland for the weekend, but in the end we didn't think it was the right thing to do. Plus, I think we both needed something to give us our first taste of travelling with a mini us.
I spent last week putting together a list of things I would need to bring. You know, because this is what women do. The men just focus on rushing our asses out the door. So, in an effort to be prepared, I worked off my list. I got up early on Friday and got a bag together for Ireland and I...score! Then I got all the other bags....
We loaded up and got on our way around 3pm on Friday, after swinging by daycare to pick up the love of our lives. Off we went.... Ireland napped right away until about 5pm. We stopped to eat and soon after we got back on the road she slept again until 10pm. I thought this would be a recipe for disaster, setting her up for no sleep that night in the hotel. But, we were lucky.
We got to the hotel and checked in and got her in her PJ's. She was anxious to do tummy time, so we set her on the bed and she just showed us how she can hold her head up! Then she showed us her new trick which is turning around to watch someone and 'scooting'. After a bit, we shut off the lives and off to bed she went.
We got up bright and early on Saturday to watch the beginning of the race. The professionals were due in the water at 6:50am. No thank you. But, we were there to watch them dive into the 68 degree water while it was like 48 outside. Ireland was in the Baby Bjorn, all bundled up, keeping me warm! She napped and I used her blanket as a wind breaker.
We then spent the rest of the day either "watching people exercise" as Renee would say or arguing. Aruging about where to watch, what to do eat, when to go back to the hotel to give the baby a nap, and so forth. It was also spent watching some amazing atheletes. The respect I have for these folks in intense.
Travellign with a four month old baby was a whole new exerience. I do not regret it and I will do it again. But it did remind me that MP and I desperately need a night or two away, withou little Miss Ireland. I think it would serve all three of us very well.
We made it back in time to relax a little - and I finished my comps! Wahoo!
So tired....
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Love - and all its imperfections
Everyone keeps talking about this website called Pinterest. I've been meaning to check it out. Quite frankly, I find it best to check out the website when I am on a deadline to finish my SUPER LONG and PAINFUL take home comp questions. I know, I know, it makes perfect sense! :)
I stumbled across this little icon and smiled. I thought to myself, that is SO me and I SOOO found this person. MP, you put up with all my craziness and I love you for it! I also thank you for loving my crazy ass family, too! :)
I stumbled across this little icon and smiled. I thought to myself, that is SO me and I SOOO found this person. MP, you put up with all my craziness and I love you for it! I also thank you for loving my crazy ass family, too! :)
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