Pigtails

I confess that while I truly loved my baldy baby, I was dying for the day sweet Eliza would be able to wear pigtails. I wore them constantly as a child - called them "ta ta's" which remains one of those stories your parents tell often, always like you've never heard it before. I loved them, and always dreamed of a little girl of my own in pigtails.


I've been trying them off and on for months, to no avail. Just not quite enough hair. Today, after the nap, I managed to triumphantly scrape her bedhead into two scrawny, precious piggies. The tiny sprigs weren't much, but they transformed her in a way I wasn't ready for.



Suddenly all I could see was a little girl. Dainty and earnest, toddling around the front yard, pigtails bouncing, holding her Daddy's hand and saying so many big words, real sentences, singing her ABCs. Where has my nonsensically babbling baby toddled off to? The sun has a new bedtime these days, and as it waned into our own bedtime I wished, not for the first time, that I could freeze that moment. The sturdy raspberry Mary Janes, the wispy pigtails, daddy home from work in time for a chat on the porch and a push in the red swing at dusk. "Weeeee!" she cries from the swing.





Me watching from the stoop while I feed precious Genevieve, who turned two months on Sunday and whose huge smiles are growing in number exponentially each day. A small, unremarkable sliver of our every day, but today, it made my heart ache. I know someday I will long for this moment, in a different way than I longed for the pigtails, and wish I could be that tired, shabbily dressed mom on the porch watching my toddler, who seemed so big, and cradling my baby, who seemed so small.


As time marches on, so do we; we march up to bed, to the meltdown that ensues from too much fun in one evening. But I'm putting that moment away for safekeeping. Pigtails. My  first baby, slipping quickly into a little girl.

The things I'd tell you

Whew! HI friends.

We are alive. Very much so in fact. And doing quite well, I'd say, but our current mode (survival mode - sleep as much as possible mode - focus on the babies mode) does not allow for much blogging time (or phone time, answering e-mail time, sending thank you notes time...though I am chipping away at those, finally). I wish it did. I think of the blog often, and all the things I'm not saying about this transition time.

I'd tell you we are blessed beyond belief with a godsend of a second baby. Oh Eliza, you taught me so much. But your baby sister wins the easiest newborn baby award. I love you both the same.

I'd tell our second girl this: sweet, sweet Genevieve, I've fallen so very hard for you. There are many things that the first babies get that their siblings do not. But one thing you get is a mother who knows what she's doing, one who can just soak up the time that flies so fast with two. I am much more aware of what matters, what doesn't. What I'll do the same *(sleep schedules: they matter and work) and what I will not stress over *(milestones). I don't care when you hold your head up or roll over or sing me a song. I just want to love on you endlessly and marvel at your coos and squeaks and dreamy smiles and oh - OH - those real, spontaneous, social smiles. Precious and pure as gold at first and you never know when they're coming, but they make your heart sing like almost nothing ever has. The best. I'd almost forgotten.

Falling in love with your second is a very different, though equally magical process. For me thus far, this time is much more purely sweet, far less stressful and far less dark. I'm grateful to be healthy this time around; I for sure didn't realize how much worse my health was making everything in those sweet early days with Eliza. I actually thought I was supposed to feel that terrible. And as my dear friend (a fellow two under two-er) put it, "I'm not wandering around in my nightgown unshowered with my boob hanging out, looking totally stoned and sobbing uncontrollably." You don't really have time to, either, thank goodness. Becoming a mother for the first time is just not easy any way you slice it. With two, you just...go.

I'd tell you how easily and seamlessly Genevieve became a part of us, and made us a family of four. She requires very little of us except to be fed and snuggled. We've got cuddles in spades around here.

I'd tell you how, at a mere 19 months, Eliza became the most intuitive, beautiful big sister.

Loves to help me change Genevieve's diaper, doles out spontaneous kisses and hugs all day long, eagerly shares blankets and baby dolls and stickers and jewelry with her unappreciative sister (I swear I'm supervising vigilantly...):

How she loves to rock her sister, and asks every morning (and afternoon) to hold her.

Her latest obsession, the ABCs (both the song and the alphabet in general) has now become the lullaby she sings as she rocks her sister. Genevieve lights up when sister holds her (then cries over being poked and lovingly, clumsily mishandled, poor thing). Their bond is one to watch.

I told you about our doozy day. Right around 4 weeks we hit a decent bump in the road. Eliza was feeling like a 20 month-old who suddenly realized her baby sister came with some unwanted new changes to our home. It was a tough week; I'd felt like up until then I had done a good job reassuring her, and giving her extra love, extra encouragement, extra positive reinforcement - hell, we even have a sticker chart now - but I think at some point they just have to test it, to make sure they aren't being replaced. That night, doing bedtime solo and at my wit's end, I shut the door on my defiant little button pusher in the dark - no story, no bedtime chat, no nothing - and she finally broke down and wailed. It was the only thing that got through to her, but I felt terrible. Such a bad mama moment. I returned after a few deep breaths and hugged her tight. We cried. We both apologized ("Dawy mommy"). No more. When they are at their worst, I remember hearing somewhere, they need the most love.

The next day, I left tiny Genevieve home with our wonderful babysitter and a bottle and took Eliza on a mama date for the morning. A muffin and coffee at BookPeople, some new books, Anthropologie to try on accessories (her) and clothes (me). She sat on a stool in the dressing room and helpfully told me which were her favorites. Sister gobbled up every minute. So did I. Over the weekend, we went to Saturday morning breakfast together. By the end of the weekend we had a different child on our hands.

And although we still have our moments (she IS still a toddler) we are clicking along again. She loves sister. It was never about her. It was her feeling insecure about us. Mama dates were always going to be a critical part of my parenting strategy, especially with sisters, but now I've seen they work.

I'd tell you all the things I'm learning about mothering two. How to dress a toddler while nursing and nurse a newborn while drying your hair. How neither will starve if you don't get there RIGHT then. How the days fly by, until 5:00 hits and the minutes creep like molasses in January (this was true with one, except sometimes it was the whole day that crept by). How amazing it is to watch a bond blossom between sisters. And at one point, it WAS January but now it's almost March and how did that happen? Too fast, too fast. I'm not ready for my newborn to turn into a baby or my toddler to turn two. Whew. Fun times indeed.

Genevieve is an amazing sleeper. So there's that to tell you. Cue choir of angels/knock wood/praise sweet, sweet baby Jesus.

Here she is wearing a flower behind her ear. She does that too. We think we'll keep her.

I heard the second baby is harder on the husband. That's probably true. He comes home from a long day at the office and we are in full gear around here - balancing bowls on our heads and babies in the crook of our arms, and everyone needs a bath including me. But I'll tell you - he's doing an amazing job juggling it all. He is the BEST daddy to girls. The best husband to me. We are lucky, lucky, lucky.

We have our crazy days. But don't we all? And we're still figuring stuff out. It's not all rosy. It's just not the terrible thing everyone (and I mean everyone) at your nosy old lady grocery store tells you it's going to be when you're pregnant - "Wow. You're going to have your hands full!"  We're managing well. We're having fun. Lots of love going around in this wonderful new house of ours.

I'd tell you we have started off most mornings since Genevieve was born with a dance party at breakfast. And sometimes before dinner. Often to the Pandora's station of the Band/Van Morrison, or perhaps the Jackson 5 (they sing Eliza's favorite, the ABCs - it's easy as 1-2-3). And sometimes I'm half-dead, often times I have a baby on my boob while I'm doing it, always I feel very silly, but she thinks it's great fun. And somehow it tricks my tired brain into thinking it's going to be a great, fun, easy day.



And most days, it is.


*I keep up much better on Instagram. Please feel free to follow me: lmilleratx. It's like a mini-Busted Pie blog post throughout the day! XO

A doozy

I've generally found this whole two under two thing to be way easier than I was expecting. Somehow far more manageable than when Eliza was a newborn. Maybe it's that I know what I'm doing or maybe it's that I'm not sick. Maybe it's the super laid-back newborn we were blessed with on round 2. Or maybe it's my years of juggling multiple kids as a babysitter paying off. But, I'll cry uncle and admit that today was a true doozy. Lord have mercy. On the bright side, it started like this:




And I'm ending it with this:




Brought by a dear friend's wonderful mother, along with delicious supper. Not the same type of sweet, perhaps, but I'll take it. Can't bring myself to hit the booze much yet or else I'm sure I'd be making a drink. Oh and both kids are bathed and jammied and alive. The end. Tomorrow is another day!

- Posted from my iPhone

Two and a half weeks

My mom had this familiar poem hanging up in our laundry room growing up; it's one that is on my mind all day long with quickly growing little ones. I admit I have probably embraced too wholeheartedly:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow



For babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow



So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep



I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.


 



Newborn portraits. Phew. I'll admit I was worried these would be a "poor second baby" thing - I just wasn't finding the right time to do them and was growing very anxious about it. But I found some peaceful, perfectly lit moments yesterday while Eliza was at school. This is precisely why Eliza has school two mornings a week, so that sweet Genevieve can have some undivided attention in a quiet house, just like her sister did. I'm so glad I caught these. I want to remember every inch of her tiny, precious self, and these days are blowing by fast. Babies don't keep, indeed.

Meet Genevieve

We are so pleased to introduce our sweet little love Genevieve.

Mary "Genevieve" Miller, born January 10 at 8:23 p.m.

At 36 weeks, she weighed 8 lbs even - pretty off the charts, as we expected!

She is without a doubt, the most precious and perfect addition to our family. She is named for two strong matriarchs of our families - Nicholas' paternal grandmother and my paternal great-grandmother, both Mary. As for Genevieve, we have both always loved the name, which means "woman of the people." Many people know it as a French name, but it actually originated as a Celtic one. Since we are both of Scottish ancestry, we liked that little tidbit too.

I had a fantastic and somewhat unusual labor and delivery, complete with my same wonderful nurse from Eliza's delivery. It was the most perfect, joyful day and we were all very happy to meet this little one who has kept us on our toes the past six weeks!

Genevieve has been the most heavenly, dare I say easiest of newborns thus far. Just a precious, laid-back little baby. I am soaking in her new baby scents and snuggles; she knew her mama so early on. Mothering your newborn second, I have quickly learned, is a much more relaxed, easy process; even with a difficult first week that was almost identical to, maybe a little tougher than Eliza's first difficult week, I have been enjoying her early days so much more. And really, really loving this:

Who does she look like? The jury's still out on that one! She doesn't really look like either of our baby pictures. Miller says he sees more of my side, and I truly can't tell you who I see yet, though I have a few guesses! She also reminds me so much of Eliza sometimes, though they definitely each have their own distinct looks. She and Eliza both had this light brown hair (though Genevieve has a little more of it, thus it looks darker). Eliza's fell out around 8 weeks, and we expect Genevieve's will too as new, light blonde hair is already coming in underneath. She has super long, skinny feet, delicate little hands, a notch in her ear like her mama, and the most delicious cheeks for nibbling.

Tiny as she is, sweet Genevieve has brought a new dimension of joy into our home. Eliza is truly and completely in love with baby sister. The report from the grandparents was that she knew instantly when the picture was texted to them in the waiting room that it was the sister we have been talking about all these months. Her jaw dropped and her face lit up; I didn't get to see it, but I imagine it looked something like this -

The only issue we are having is that she is all over the baby, all the time, so we've been working on boundaries and being respectful of sleeping babies. She loves helping me change her diaper, dress her, swaddle her. She eagerly shares her baby dolls with Genevieve and asks about her constantly. It's the very best reaction we could have hoped for.

Transitioning to a family of four has been pretty seamless, perhaps thanks to the head start we were given by my 5 weeks of strict bedrest. Settling in with a toddler and a new baby has felt so natural compared to the craziness of December, and some of the adjustments we were forced to make ahead of time have served us well in this transition period.  In short, we are doing wonderfully well so far.  We're old pros at this baby thing - all three of us!

We are a blessed little family, surrounded by so much love. And, dear readers, we are so grateful for your thoughts, prayers, and patience as we brought this littlest miss safely into the world.

More later. I promise!