Boo!

Boo!

(Pictured: new black front door, 7 months worth of pregnancy insomnia, baby dos, prima ballerina elephant who has disposed of annoying shoes)

It's me! I know, I know. Negligent blogging again. I know when I start hearing that friends of friends are demanding some kind of update that I have truly slipped off the grid here. Life is getting in the way it seems, but really I am starting to feel a lot of guilt for letting this time pass us by undocumented, as so much is going on and this blog has been a wonderful thing to have in times like those. I feel like we are finally on the tail-end of our transition, though (well, until baby girl arrives...). And, I have yet another epic catch-up post prepared on what we've been up to, but thought I would post an actual timely post for once in the spirit of hoping to catch you by surprise.

A month or so ago, Miller and I decided Eliza should be an elephant for Halloween, because well, it was a costume she could get excited about and she does a mean elephant noise. But Eliza is a little girlier than just any old elephant. So a ballerina elephant it would be! She has a bla bla doll named Josephine that I modeled the costume after. I crocheted a (very quick and dirty) little crown for her head, sewed a few ribbons to some ballet slippers, and found a tutu to complete the costume.

With her sweet Gigi

Along with my family who stopped by our house early on, we had some very special guests for Eliza's first trick or treat. Eliza's lookalike/good friend Piercy (6 wks older than E.) and her Daddy joined us for trick or treating and supper while my friend Meghan laid in bed resting. In addition to being diagnosed with early signs of pre-eclampsia (her next baby is also just about 6-8 weeks older than our next baby), poor Meghan injured her back yesterday and is completely bedridden.  Ugh. Second pregnancies, I can attest, are a little bit tougher on our bodies than the first pregnancies. Something to do with hauling toddlers around on our hips and never sitting down, I'm fairly sure. I find myself more tired, more achy, more everything than last time. Oh, and easily a month bigger than last time too. And yet you don't have much time to dwell on it or take wonderful care of yourself or rest properly. But no complaints here - aside from a few minor things, I am feeling pretty good most days and very grateful to be on my feet. I felt awful for Meghan, who I know is terribly sad to be missing her precious Piercy's first trick or treat.

Eliza did have a proper trick or treat bag, but obviously we've been using it as a purse all week and thus it seems to have been "misplaced" somewhere upstairs. I was all ready to go with a ghettofabulous plastic Randall's sack for our 4-house adventure when my husband appeared with this Liberty bag from our time abroad a few years ago. So styling, E! I knew it would come in handy one day...

It did not come as a surprise that she swiped Piercy's bag and started pulling out all the essential kitty cat makeup.

The girls were so sweet together. These are the two that like to hug each other all the time, such precious little friends who share a lot more than they probably realize (new houses, new babies, heck they even moved into their big girl beds the same week!).

They caught onto the whole trick or treating idea very quickly. They weren't shy about it. Just toddle on up to the door and knock, and wait for nice ladies with candy to appear? They had it down by house two.

The bustled tutu was my favorite part of the costume. Wouldn't want to hide that precious tail, now would we? Piercy had a cute little kitty cat tail happening on her backside too.

The daddies were the big players on this night, and I'm so glad for it. Greg, a commercial airline pilot, is out of town for 3-4 day stretches each week, and my husband, like many daddies, doesn't get to share in a lot of the firsts of our days either. He had raced home early from a very busy day, through horrific Halloween traffic to be here for the first trick or treat. The girls loved having their daddies here for this. These pictures make my heart happy.

Thanks to Greg for the obligatory family photo - I look like the half-dead mama I am, but there you go! Probably ought to just get used to it...

After trick or treating a few houses, the girls helped us hand out candy to the other kids. Piercy was particularly helpful at this, while Eliza, usually our big helper, was more interested in sneakily hoarding Kit Kats and running into the family room "undetected" with her loot. They ate their white turkey chili together - which was quite spicy but no match for our Texas babies - and watched the Great Pumpkin while playing with puzzles and running around after dinner. Such a fun night with the kids. Lots of love to Meghan for a speedy recovery and healthy baby (boy! I think...). We missed you and so wish you could have joined us!

Hope you all had a wonderful Halloween too! Back in a few days with a ginormous catch-up post...stay tuned.

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!

La casa de Millers

Today I (and Baby Dos) got carried over the threshold of our new home while Eliza toddled around her new front yard. Happy closing day to us!

I'm so glad one of us works out. Peanut dos and I are already a bit of a heavy load.

My view from the threshold: Eliza with sweet Trace, our friend and realtor (and most excellent babysitter during our many appointments at the house!).

We can't wait to get all settled in.
(thanks to my sweet friend Meghan who sent me this pic bright and early this morning, tagged "happy closing day!").

Hope everyone has a great weekend!
- Posted from my iPhone

Mornin!

(With apologies to my Instagram followers, who will find this largely regurgitory...camera is going to the shop today, I swear).

Well! A busy August here for us. You? Between buying and renovating a house, packing, being hit by a nasty virus, and keeping up with a now fully toddling little miss while pregnant, we haven't had a lot of down time. Ooh, and I'm going to Colorado next week. I know, life is hard. I am certainly not complaining - it's just been crazy busy around here.

Except for this. Many moons ago I wrote about how I'd envisioned stay at home motherhood as a morning of folding sweet smelling laundry watching Bob Barker on the Price is Right while the baby napped. No doubt a fuzzy memory from my own childhood. Well, last week I found myself enjoying a little Barefoot Contessa during an extra long nap while I folded laundry and the dogs snoozed beside me. A rare moment of quiet, peaceful, productive solitude.



Perhaps the calm before the storm, as the following day Eliza came down with a nasty mystery virus. Her fever hovered around 104 until Friday morning, and she felt just terrible. The rest of the week was spent waking up with her every few hours at night, and the days crept by very slowly with a hot, sweaty baby parked on my chest.


We logged a lot of quality Sesame Street time, with faithful Bun Bun by our side.


By Friday she was on the up and up again, hamming it up in the tub.


I've managed to keep laundry done on schedule and dinner on the table (pats self on back). Here was one of my more successful made up recipes - I had bought some ground lamb but couldn't decide what to do with it. Miller suggested I do something Greek with tzatziki, so I grilled up some seasoned lamb, onions and cherry tomatoes, served on some quinoa and topped with some fat-free tzatziki (didn't use a recipe, just threw dill, lemon juice, diced cucumbers, S&P and Fage 0% together to taste...mint is optional, my husband is not a fan so I omitted it). Threw some poorly chopped seasoned cucumbers on the side for extra color and crunch.


Very good, incredibly easy, and super healthy! One of my favorite timesavers is to make quinoa and pastas in a big batch and just reheat throughout the week.

All done with the help of my other best friend, coffee. Sworn off in pregnancy one, embraced in pregnancy two. Just the one allowed cup of course, but I savor every drop.



Groceries purchased with the help of my stylin sidekick, Liz.



For our social butterfly, every trip to the grocery store is her own personal Miss America parade.

So, right at 14 months, and two days after my ginormous "catching up" post, in which I reported that she was very close to walking, little miss took off and hasn't looked back. She has surprised us by being able to stand on her own from the get-go and toddling around quite adeptly with many things in her hands (usually baby doll) right off the bat. At the beginning she was walking with her arms overhead most of the time - hilarious and so cute - but that's subsided some, much to my dismay.

Eliza fully weaned the day I hit the second tri. I had planned on weaning at exactly one year, but found out I was pregnant one week after her first birthday, so decided to wait until we were in the clear in the first tri. It was time and my roll-with-the-punches babe hardly seemed to mind. Her morning feed has been replaced by a very gratifying, thumb in mouth snuggle session in the bed each morning.



Though I dreaded it for months, once I felt it was the right time, it was easy and I'm glad to close that chapter (for a few months anyway...). I have to say, after all our early struggles and doubts from doctors and lactation consultants on my commitment to sustaining as much of a nursing relationship as I could, it's a bit of a personal achievement for me that we made it to fourteen months. Booya. Shame on anyone who makes an emotionally vulnerable new mother feel less than adequate. Mamas always know best, right from the start, and always do their best for their babies. I am hopeful that we will have a bit of a smoother start on the next go round though!

Our funny girl's new-found independence has been a new adventure. A small piece of me dreaded it, but thus far it's just shown us more of her spunky little personality. I try to give her plenty of freedom within the boundaries we've established. At the moment she's pretty much just on the hunt for things to put on. She is a girl who knows what she wants and is quite confident in her fashion choices. She pulls out my drawers and puts on my clothes:



Pulls bracelets out of my vanity to dress up her pajamas.


Wants sunglasses on at all times. Often upside down and caddywompus, like so:


Can make an accessory out of anything (here I think she was going for an Olympics-themed outfit):


Isn't a slave to the fashions of the season. If it works, it works.


Remains sweet as pie, though of course we get a daily dose of emerging toddler. We're big into throwing things and then looking for the reaction. Here she's considering tossing her sippy on the floor. I'm sure you can guess what happened.


Or like yesterday, when she pulled a glass bottle out of the shopping cart and dropped it on the ground. SO, perhaps sweet as a slightly busted pie...


We're doing just great - those defiant moments are all part of them exerting their new independence and I'm really loving her at this age. I hope Eliza's still enjoying our days together, even though her playdates and pool dates have largely been replaced with trips to flooring stores, front door stores, Benjamin Moore and the like.  A little guilt there, but we'll be back into our routine soon enough. I try to have her "help" me wherever we are, which works most of the time but for some reason she hates Home Depot. I've decided it's because it isn't filled with lots of adoring fans (read: moms and grandmothers) like the grocery store is. Thank you to our mystery friend who came running over with her darling basset hound in the middle of an epic tantrum at Lowe's yesterday evening. Once she saw that puppy dog she forgot why she was mad (she was mad because, after throwing her sunglasses on the floor one too many times, I had banished them to my handbag. I know, I know, so cruel. Report me to CPS. And no way was I giving in just to shut her up, so we were beelining for the door when our savior in basset form appeared). You're messing with the wrong mama, Lizzy.

Our coffee table (and my brain) currently looks like this:


We close on our new house on Thursday, with work beginning Friday morning. Packing has commenced - I've been dismantling my favorite corners of the house -



- with plans to pretty much get all but a skeleton crew of necessities in boxes and at the new house this weekend. We're doing about two weeks' (we hope) worth of remodeling projects and then will move all the furniture in on September 1st - our five-year anniversary.

Our plan is to celebrate by also finding out the gender of baby dos that evening, in our new home. I think it's pretty dead even with finding out on Christmas morning! My slightly hormonal self is having a bit of a hard time leaving our little rent house, which though far from our dream home has been such a happy, cozy place for us. The most perfect place to start our family. But as happy as this chapter has been, I know our new home will be a wonderful place to grow into as a family of four, and for that I am brimming with excited anticipation for September 1st, just as I was five years ago. 



Until next time, friends - xoxo