August and everything after (pt. 2): The graceful transition

 We returned home from Colorado to boxes; our move was scheduled four days later.
  
We are endlessly grateful for every one of these big changes happening right now, and I remain humbled to have a happy baby, healthy pregnancy thus far, wonderful husband and our new home. But in the midst of all the chaos, I was reminded of this one thing: transitions are tough.

It may be already apparent that I am not a graceful transitioner. Rather, it seems I prefer to let things devolve into a decent state of chaos so that I can put them away in a more orderly fashion on the other end. Exhibit A: my car. During the move and renovation period, we lived in the car, which on some days doubled as my playpen at the new house while I ran in quickly to deliver a new paint sample or offer my opinion on wainscoting stair transitions or banquette trims (I realize this isn't a stellar parenting move, but the car was running with cool A/C and the dust and fumes are not exactly baby-friendly. And of course, I wore a mask to keep baby dos protected too). This means my car became an eclectic bomb of my loudest, most interactive toys, paint chip samples, at times clothes (because we were living at my wonderful Mom's for the week and I continued to realize I didn't pack enough), water bottles, cheddar bunnies, boxes of light fixtures or door hardware, pregnancy information pamphlets from the doctor and all manner of other delights. Lacking the time or energy to care (and honestly, without a permanent home for most of it at the time) I adopted an "I'll deal with it when this is over" mentality and thus my car has become a great symbol our ungraceful transition. Come have a look sometime, I dare you.

It's over now, and I will never ever do that again pregnant. Mark my words. Ever. It was one billion blazing degrees and I admit that I most certainly overdid it. My wonderful, amazing husband took on the brunt of the labor and what I did almost did me in - by Labor Day (appropriately named) I couldn't move, literally, so Miller had to tie up the little loose ends at the house without me. I've been picking up a good amount of slack on the unpacking end though; we are a good team that way. He was a machine through that ugly week (also, by the way, his birthday and our actual anniversary) and I remain so grateful that I married him five years ago.


Here he is taking down the little red swing. In addition to hanging from a tree, he was also saddled with reassuring me it would be just as wonderful at the new house while I watched on unhelpfully and boo-hooed.

So, yes, it turns out, did I not realize how emotional and almost traumatizing it would be to leave our little house. I'm sure hormones are partly to blame, but in between loads I would spontaneously burst into tears over our home that, box by box, slowly became just a rent house again. We had made it our own over the last 3.5 years, and once Eliza was born, I spent the majority of my days with our baby in this little home. It became very empty when the furniture was gone, but everywhere I looked I could still see memories - the two of us opening the box on Christmas morning, to discover we were having a girl; sweet giggly bathtimes; bouncing around the nursery to get my fussy baby to sleep; tummy time on the living room floor; E in a fast crawl through the dining room to bang a happy greeting to Dada in the evenings; the first time he walked through the door to see his baby girl walking on her own.

Seeing flashes of our very happy life there in the empty rooms was honestly almost too much for this hormonal lady to bear. Even with all the good things ahead, I am still working on turning the page. Settling into our new house has helped immensely, which is why I immediately prioritized setting up the nursery hutch and hanging the red swing over much larger and more pressing tasks. I just needed it to feel like ours.

And, bit by bit, it does, as we begin to make new memories of rock collecting on the patio, snuggly morning playtimes, and awaking the first morning to discover that we are now the proud owners of a killer sunrise view.







And that little red swing? It already sees so much more action than it ever did at the old house. I have to admit, dear husband, when you're right, you're right.






 
On the day we handed off the keys, we took Eliza to the empty house to say goodbye. Unfazed by her empty nursery, she toddled over to a book that had been uncovered when the glider was moved and started chattering excitedly. If she was confused, or unsettled by this entire process (a trip to Colorado, moving in with my mom four days later, and then moving into a strange new house), she didn't really let on. And she loves her new house - there is so much more room to explore and play indoors and out. She hasn't missed a beat, really - if only we could all transition as gracefully as a one-year-old!

August and everything after (pt.1): Colorado

I planned this trip to Colorado back in April, long before we knew we were moving, pregnant (though I'd figured I could be), or even house hunting. It fell at an admittedly awful time in my pregnancy/our move - maybe the most exhausted I've been in my entire life. Eliza and I were going to visit my grandparents in Beaver Creek, where I have been going since I was a little girl. Too sleep-deprived, exhausted and overwhelmed to even fathom packing two suitcases and getting onto a plane with my busy toddler by myself, I thought briefly of canceling the trip. But I will agree with you that Beaver Creek is kind of the opposite of roughing it, so I knew once we were there it may be a good chance to recharge.


In the end I'm so very glad we went.

What a special trip for me, for Eliza, for my grandparents. It was the first time my cousins and I had all been up there together since we were kids, so that in and of itself was a special thing.


Eliza was a delightful, I daresay wonderful traveling companion. Sidenote: traveling alone with ANY one-year-old on your lap is akin to being trapped in a small crate with a puppy for two-plus hours. But, she was happy, chatty, charming - absolutely as perfect as I could have ever asked for, no nap and all.


 
(she finally passed out on the drive from Denver).

Once we arrived, I spent most of the time chasing this little lady around the house. She had a ball running all over and playing with the screen door - an endless source of entertainment.






Filed under things that make my heart sing: my grandparents with my daughter. They were on cloud nine and Eliza adores them both. My cup runneth over.






Eliza has gained such a sense of purpose and responsibility over the past few months - my eager, sweet little helper. So while she still throws plenty of food overboard, at least she helps me clean up by taking the broom to the closet. That was her duty each morning after breakfast in Colorado, and she did it with such enthusiasm. Sweeping up meals is a foreign concept to us, since we have the dogs at home, but she thought it was great fun. She would also eagerly and proudly come help me push the trashcan closed after I'd thrown the dustpan's contents away. I am always trying to think of new little tasks she can "help" me with around the house; simultaneously it seems to build her self-confidence and strengthen our bond. It's a sweet and happy thing we share.

Johnny helped her master the nesting blocks. She was so proud of herself, and he was so proud of her (I just remembered I have actual pictures of this whole scene on my real camera...sigh...maybe I'll post some more when I manage to get them uploaded)


Taking a well-deserved break. My grandparents did an admirable job of keeping up with E. while we were there. This is what our trips to Colorado look like when there isn't a one year-old to entertain.

Our house in Beaver Creek holds so many happy, relaxed childhood summer memories; we were also engaged there almost exactly six years ago, much to my surprise at the time.  To share this special place with my daughter, and to give my grandparents some quality time with their great granddaughter surely rounds out my top three favorite Beaver Creek trips.

On the way to catch our shuttle back to Denver, Eliza called Annie "NiNi" for the first time. I captured this moment a few minutes later, when NiNi took Eliza for a stroll to tire her out before the drive. For me, truly, it doesn't get much better than this.

5 years and some happy news

In the past month, we have closed chapters, cracked open new ones, traveled solo and pregnant with a one year old, received some fairly frightening but hopefully ok news about sweet baby dos, renovated a house, moved out of a house, moved into a house, become quite pregnant indeed out of the blue (so long, last pair of stretchy non-maternity jeans!), and watched our toddler turn into a talking, running little person overnight. Throw my pregnancy insomnia (3-4 hours sleep) in the mix and basically this means I. Am. So. Exhausted. Folks.

There is so much to catch up on. But first, I just wanted to share a bit of happy news with all of you. This news deserves its own post, but there is a lot I want to cover for the sake of remembering this time, so I'm going to post in installments each morning over the next few days to get caught up. So, our big, wonderful news:

Eliza is going to have a baby sister!



She's been getting in lots of practice with Baby Doll in preparation for the big day in February. While of course she would have loved a brother too, this somehow seems to fit our family so perfectly right now. Her room in the new house is ideal for two little girls to share. And truly, I knew deep down she was a girl, from the minute we found out we were pregnant. This pregnancy has been identical to the last one. Plus, I had a dream around 8 weeks; in the dream I had a baby girl and she even had the name we've currently settled on. We are overjoyed – I feel like Eliza was always meant to have a little sister close in age.

I was surprised the first time around at how outspoken people were about not finding out the gender vs. waiting for the birth. I certainly see why it would be so exciting to wait, and either way I'm not sure why other people care so much about something that is such a personal choice for the parents; but for me, it is deeply, incredibly important that I know. It's not about "knowing" or not being able to stand waiting for some grand end surprise. We have willpower aplenty here. But for me personally, knowing this baby is a she helps us bond with her a little better, helps me prepare for the next stage a little more readily, and this time around especially, it has made it all much more real for our family. A very good thing in light of the chaos and unsettled nature of our past month. Our sissy now grounds us a little more.

I'm big on making the gender reveal a memorable, special event for us - the delivery room isn't the only way to make it a special surprise! I had our technician write the gender on a card. I took it to Janie and Jack and picked out two outfits - one of each gender - and told her to wrap up whatever was on the card. This may sound familiar, as it's just what I did two Christmas mornings ago.

We opened the box at our five year anniversary dinner at the Driskill, where our wedding was held, and thus it was the most perfect setting to learn that we are being blessed with another precious baby girl. Even though I was so sure, I still cried, of course. It was a wonderfully fitting way to celebrate five years together, our growing family, and our brand new home. That happened to be our first night's stay in the new house, too.

Five years ago, I would have been so happy to see this life unfolding in a crystal ball. Thank you, sweet, wonderful Miller, for five years of happy adventures together. We are so blessed, and we can't wait to meet you, precious baby girl!