Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Goodbye California.

The girls (girls! plural! still gives me a thrill), myself, and my mom (thank you Marm!) will board a plane in a few hours bound for Florida. Steve will drive our swag wagon and join us just before Christmas. 

I wish I could take little pieces of California with me. I would take the two feet of flooring in between our bedroom and living room, where an almost 11-month old Mila took her first steps one amazing day in July. I would take my dear friend Cori and her daughter, Mila's first bestie. I would take chunks of the Golden Gate Bridge, a happy memory when we walked it the day I found out I was pregnant. Prayers were answered here. Prayers went unanswered here. We came as three, we leave as four. I arrived with a heavy heart, having to start over in this new place. Just beginning to trust my mama instincts. Now today at the airport I'll be wearing my littlest baby while chasing after my other one. I would say I grew up here.

We'll miss you California. You've been good to us. 

Friday, 14 December 2012

Around here.

Besides u-haul boxes, here are some other bits and pieces of life lately. 

Thursday, 13 December 2012

This is happening.

Friends, we are moving. 
 It's no secret that we've always planned to end up in Florida. Our time in the bay area was initially planned to be a year; two years, another baby later, and we are finally heading home. Soon we hope to find a house we love and can set roots in. I get unbelievably excited at the very thought. 'Bout time.

Before that happens, though, we're going through the stick-a-fork-in-my-eyeball joy of packing this place up. Preparing for a cross-country move. Two weeks before Christmas. Feel sorry for us? Ah, but we have help*:

                                               We even have a foreman!

Wish us luck. 
And patience. 
And grace. 

*in all seriousness we couldn't have done it without Marmousch. She's been AMAZING.

Monday, 3 December 2012


Happy Advent, happy December 2nd, and here's our Advent calendar this year. I hodgepodged the idea for this years' off pinterest. Whatever did we do before pinterest?  I know what I did. I got more sleep. 

Last year I woefully realized that when we moved to California we had left behind all our beloved ornaments; ours are the sentimental kind, from the travel mementos we hunt down everywhere we go to the 'Bride-to-Be 2003' to the 'Just Married 2004.' And of course now Mila's teeny footprints to grace our tree (and soon, Dani's!). Taking them out of the box each year is like reuniting with dear and familiar friends and how I missed my friends last year. Terribly. The candy canes just didn't cut it. 

This year Marmousch brought with her few of our favorite ornaments. Hi old friends! Inside each muslin bag on the advent calendar is one of our ornies for Wugs to hang on the tree.

Thank you thank you Marmousch for hanging up the entire thing Friday night while I bossed out instructions from the couch as I fed my newest sweetheart. Speaking of which, I wrote this entire post with one hand while NAKing (nursing at keyboard). I've missed this!

Last year's advent calendar, and one of my favorites, from 2009.

Friday, 23 November 2012

Wednesday to Wednesday

Wednesday - my last OB visit

Friday morning, heading to the hospital.

Friday, November 9th, 10:20 am

Saturday. Home from the hospital after 36 hours.


Monday. Marmee's here!


...and then my camera broke. Let's not talk about it.
p.s. Happy Thanksgiving! We had a wonderful and relaxing one...although admittedly the only meal I actually contributed to was Dani's. Marmousch and Steve were rockstars in the kitchen. I'll have to share the pictures we took from our backup camera later. 

I have so much to be thankful for. I'm still pinching myself.

Sunday, 11 November 2012

A welcome.

On Friday, November 9th at 20 minutes past ten in the morning, our daughter Daniela Lu was born. Our Dani. 19 1/2 inches long, weighing seven pounds and four ounces...although those statistics were taken a good 3 hours after birth and a few happy nursing sessions later since I wouldn't part with her for a second. 

She is perfect. She can stay.

p.s. VBAC. Yes! By the grace of God, my FANTASTIC doctor, a marvelous cheering squad of nurses, and the most amazing husband ever.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Thirty-seven. Now thirty-eight.

We've all come down with the plague, i.e. that first head cold of winter that makes Steve and I say to each other multiple times daily I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't feel like this. It started with Mila and while she bounced back after two days, one sweet night as she lay on my pillow and we were staring into each others' eyes she sneezed full on and as I felt my eyes, mouth and nose get sprayed I kind of caught of glimpse of this. Kind of. In my glimpse I was quietly suffering, in reality I'm really really vocal in my misery. It hurts to move, to breathe, sleep brings no relief, add to this the already whale-like feeling of feeling 28-months pregnant--oh, and every time I cough, I pee a little? You know? This just isn't fun anymore.

Above was the first little bit of a draft I wrote for my thirty-seventh week. But now it's Monday, which means we're at thirty-eight-and-one. That's how they say it at my doctor's office. You're thirty-eight-and-one since every single day counts. Would I like this baby to come out? Yes. Duh. Do I think that's really going to happen? If you look at my actions, it doesn't seem likely. Last night I stayed up late--I mean LATE--doing insane things like ordering felt balls off etsy and paging through the latest Martha Stewart magazine whilst salivating at the thought of being able to eat deep-dish apple pie on Thanksgiving. On Saturday night I made yarn pom-poms to attach to a new blanket I want to surprise Wugs with. If that's not crazy business-as-usual denial, I don't know what is. Many women suddenly clean their homes from top to bottom when in the last days of their pregnancy, but one who stays up past 1 am making pom-poms? Clearly I'm deranged. Baby blanket not yet finished. My hospital bag is only 1/3 packed. But pom-poms and felt balls, we has them. I guess this is my 'nesting' this time around.

Oh, and Steve and I are 99
% sure that poor Mila has hand-foot-mouth disease so that alone has me willing this baby to stay put just a little longer. Can you imagine? Mila, here's your new brother or sister that we've been talking up like crazy for the last 9 months but oh, you can't touch them. No kisses. In fact, just a wave will do. From the door. What a great start to a lifelong sibling relationship. 

So to sum up 37, now 38 weeks. Pom-poms. Some freak toddler sandbox- or shopping cart-catching affliction. And no recent bump picture, just some sweet and sad ones of poor Wugs as she lay on the couch this afternoon with an ice pack on her head and cool washcloth on her back. That pretty much says it all. We're all hoping for good health and to catch a little bit of a break in this next week or so. Just a little. I know the world isn't going to stop for us the way it did/does when you have your first child. The first child comes into a perfectly prepared, almost museum-like house that is hushed in anticipation of its arrival. All subsequent babies come into a home, one that already has a very established, usually chaotic rhythm. Wonderful, crazy chaos that we'll try our best to embrace while still soaking up every new second with our baby.

But until then, a little break perhaps, universe? And an earlier bedtime for me.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Halloween 2012

So. Happy Halloween! We consider ourselves pretty lucky since in the northeast they're still reeling from Sandy and likely festivities are the last thing on anyone's mind. Mila barfed up her ghost pancake breakfast this morning, I don't think I'll ever look at those skellyjams the same way again. But after taking it easy this morning she was still up for trick-or-treating. I think. Steve tends to get all stage parent-y on days like Halloween and speaks in exaggerations, like She'll be absolutely devastated if we don't go trick-or-treating tonight. Um, hon? She's two. I think she'd be thrilled with a lollipop and call it a day. But since her tummy held onto a bland lunch and snack we forged ahead with our plans. And really, can you blame my husband? Just look at our sheriff. 

I think this is the last year I get to decide Wugs' costume. With her constant decisive, no-nonsense narration of e-ver-y-thing, attempts to tell Mama and Papa what to do (we've had many a soulful talk about the bossiness factor), Wugs has earned the new moniker of Sheriff. Steve came up with it and so far it has stuck. A SHAH-WIFF! Wugs would say when you'd ask her what she was going to be for Halloween. We were her jailbirds, handcuffed and all, and as usual I have to give all credit to Steve for taking care of the majority of costume decisions while I've been wallowing in very late pregnancy exhaustion. It's an actual condition, I swear! He took the reins when late October rolled around and all I had gotten were those fabulous pink boots. Which ended up being Mila's favorite thing about her costume and just between you and me, I think that's what got us out the door this afternoon. We had barely gotten outside when she looked up and asked, "How me supposed to walk in dese boots?" You just do your thing, Wugs. Note the victory lolly she held onto for dear life as we got back into the car.

There will be many Halloweens, but I won't ever forget this one. Our last as a family of three, the one where I waddled along behind the beaming papa and his shah-wiff who was soon too tired to walk, the one where Mila said to everyone proudly, Twick oh tweat! and then, Kan-Koo! which is the best phonetic interpretation I can manage for Mila's version of thank you. Although in person it's just so much more lovely, with her voice rising and falling in those two kan-koo beats as though it's a song.

Happy Halloween!