Tag: D

Baby girl D

Posted on

But babe, you’re good at LOTS of things

I don’t know how many times I’ve said this to R in response to his frequent complaint of “I just wish I was really good at one thing.”

Um, hello? You’re great at everything! Let’s see, where should I begin the list? I know, sports:  football, basketball, baseball, track. Throw in pretty much any other sport that involves throwing, catching, or running, and he’s good at that too. Up next, things at home:  only ANYTHING, seeing as he has now single-handedly rebuilt and remodeled almost our entire house – structure, wiring, plumbing, duct work, appliances. He can even sew! He also shovels snow in winter, helps mow the lawn in summer, and takes out/brings in the garbage cans. What else? Cooking:  duh – we all know he’s amazing at this and does all of it for our household. Additionally, all things mechanic or electronic:  he’s changed the brakes on our vehicles, given them oil changes, helped replace a heater core (what? don’t ask – it was a miserable project), fixed window motors, replaced radios, and he is famous for his knowledge of every gadget from cell phones to computers to TVs and everything in between. And don’t forget all of his hobbies:  home brewing, charcuterie (and basically anything meat-related), motorcycles, music, kites, model rockets, photography. That list is pretty much endless. Is there anything this kid can’t do? In a word – nope.

Now me, on the other hand. I am really good at one thing. Swimming. I swam all through high school and college. I was a State Champion in high school, All-American in college, Academic All-Big Ten in college, and I held a school record at UW-Madison (that has long since been broken, but still. it was up there for a little while. :)). I’ve also been a US Masters National Champion in my years since college. Wow, SM, you’re a stud. Yes, yes, thank you, please hold your applause (modest, much? ;)). But, please notice how short that list is – ONE thing. See R’s up there? He has like a million. Sure I can kick your ass up and down a pool, but when it comes to being good, even moderately good, at a whole host of things, I fall far short.

This conversation always makes me curious, too – does everyone want to be really good at one thing? Like really, really, good, as I am with swimming (i’m sorry, i’m not usually so blatantly cocky, but i’ve learned to look back on my swimming career and be really proud of my accolades after downplaying them for many years)? Or would most people prefer to be good at a lot of things, as in R’s case? I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather be able to do pretty much anything I ever need for myself instead of having to ask for help all the time over being able to swim fast. Unfortunately, I swim fast.

Oh! How could I forget the most important thing R is good at? He’s the most fantastic, wonderful father – D is a very lucky little girl.

Daddy and D getting ready to hunt for eggs

 

He let her put all the eggs in the basket - so cute!

 

Daddy we found another one!

 

And another...

 

He just loves this little girl so much

 

Posted on

My thumb is turning green & a piece of family history

One thing you may not know about me is that I love gardening (or did I already tell you that?). I never would’ve thought it would be something that tickled my fancy, seeing how most things domestically-oriented don’t. But once we moved into our house and I started digging around in the existing gardens and transplanting things and planting new things and experimenting with what works and what looks good where, I found I really have a knack for it.

And I absolutely love seeing my gardens bloom each year and look pretty. I’m big on bulbs too, since they come up each year without me having to do any more work. 😉 I’m super excited about the new row of peonies this year that I mentioned before – I checked last night and all 6 are sprouting. Hooray!

This weekend my mom sent home some hosta plants for me, and last night I planted them around our lamppost in the front yard. A few years ago I dug up a little circle around the base of it to make room for some color in the yard, and I usually plant dahlias around there. But last year they didn’t do as well as they have in years past, and it never fails that they get nicked with the lawn mower at some point during the season.

I was thinking about putting daffodil bulbs in there this year because I love them and they’re one of the few spring flowers I don’t have anywhere, but then I got these hostas and figured it’d be just as easy to put them there instead. I’ve already filled a lot of space in our other gardens with hostas that I transplanted from under a bush in the back yard, so I was running out of spots for these new ones and I didn’t want them to go to waste. I think they turned out pretty well.

Lovely weather we're having.... AGAIN
Up close and personal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I didn’t dig a super deep hole for these guys, so I really hope they thrive here. I’m hopeful, though, since they were already sprouting when my mom dug them up for me.

We received an awesome surprise on the doorstep yesterday, too. My great aunt J and my mom’s cousin J sent a beautiful quilt for D. That’s nice, but what’s so special about a quilt, you wonder? It was my great-great-grandmother D’s (so D’s great-great-great-grandmother D), and she was the one after whom our D was named.

I had no idea this quilt was coming, or even existed, so I was very excited to get such a wonderful heirloom. And it is even more special for D since it came from her namesake. The note with it said my great aunt J remembered seeing it in her grandma D’s house when she was younger, and it was probably made in the 1910s-1920s.

How cool! I had R take a picture of it on my phone this morning, but it turned out really blurry. I’ll take a better one tonight, but at least you can get the idea.

D will be the 6th generation to have this quilt. Awesome!

 

I absolutely love family tradition, so getting this quilt for D means a lot to me. It will be the perfect cover when she transitions to a big girl bed from her crib. Her great-great-great grandma D will be watching over her each night and blessing her with sweet, sweet dreams.

 

Posted on

I have a huge crush on three day weekends

One of my friends had that as her Facebook status last night, and I could not agree more. Too bad they always go so quickly and end way before they should.

It was great having a long weekend this week, though. We had a wonderful time at my mom’s, and D thoroughly enjoyed her first Easter. She helped Daddy hunt for Easter eggs, and the Easter Bunny brought her the most ridiculously fluffy, cute bunny coat ever. Doesn’t this just kill you?

Cutest bunny there ever was

 

Saturday morning I was sitting on the deck after a jog, cooling down and just quietly counting my blessings – 65 degrees, sun, warm breeze, blood pumping after some good exercise, beautiful baby girl napping peacefully upstairs, nothing else on the agenda for the entire day except looking forward to steaks on the grill for dinner, surrounded by loving family. It was such a fantastic time and very relaxing, just what the doctor ordered. I just wish it happened more often and lasted more than 3 days.

And now it’s Monday and back to the grind. Blllleeeecchh. Even after regular weekends Monday mornings are the worst, but at least they’re only a couple hours long. It’s funny, too, how it almost never fails that after some time off my attention always turns to planning the next day off or vacation. Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? 😉

Did you all have nice holiday weekends?

 

p.s. Run stats for that jog mentioned above – 2.17 miles in 20:25. Little slower at a 9:25 pace, but there were lots of hills and I was intentionally going slowly since I hadn’t gotten out for a run in over a week. Another notch on the running belt.

 

Posted on

D-licious

Yesterday the new umbrella stroller we ordered arrived, so I put it together and gave D a few spins around the house to test it out. She loved it.

 

Check out my new wheels!

 

Yep, I can still eat my toes in here, so I'm happy

 

I wanted to get some cleaning done last night too, so while R napped in the living room I toted D around in the bedrooms with me. After almost scooting off our bed backwards while we were in there, I figured the confinement of her crib would be a better spot for her when we moved into her room. That way she couldn’t scoot out the door and escape on me either. 😉 She is rarely in her crib besides to sleep, so she was having a ball scooting around and playing with her toys and blankets in there. Look what she discovered she can do now, too:

Hmm, what are these bars for?

 

Ah ha!

 

Oo, what do we have here? Remotes are my favorite!

 

Now that I got the remote I'll just move down here to my soap...

 

She is becoming one very busy little girl, as you can tell by the blur factor in some of the pictures, and is thisclose to figuring out how to crawl instead of scoot. Then we will be in trouuuuuble. Look out house, I’m comin’ through!

 

 

Posted on

The end of an era

Well, we reached a milestone over the weekend. And it’s kind of funny, since I’ve been thinking about this so much lately and ended up not even being the one to decide how it was going to happen after all. D has stopped nursing. Wait, what, already? I thought I was going to tell her when we stopped, not the other way around.

Everything was going fine as usual Friday morning when I fed her before daycare, then R came in the room to get to his closet and she got distracted by Daddy. This always happens, so she stopped eating after just a little bit. But then when I tried to feed her when we got home from daycare Friday afternoon she refused, which was odd. Even if she’s not really hungry she’d never flat out refused to nurse before. Ok, no big deal, we’ll just try again later. Her cold was kicking in again, and we’re afraid her ear infection is back too (greeeat, gotta call the doctor again today to try to get it cleared up one more time), so I didn’t think it was totally bizarre that she wasn’t hungry. What I did find more strange, though, was when she refused to nurse before bed that night. She had eaten dinner at her normal time around 6:30, but she had no milk at all that afternoon or night, just some water from her bottle shortly before bed. I was convinced this wouldn’t cut the mustard and she’d be up at least once in the middle of the night, but I was wrong (not complaining on that error of judgment, mind you, just surprised). She slept through ’til her normal wakeup time of 6:30 Saturday morning, but then refused the boob once more. Now I was kind of perplexed – 3 times in a row of no Mommy eating? What’d I do wrong? She happily gulped down a bottle though, so at least it wasn’t that she had no appetite.

So, my friends, it appears my days as a milkin’ mama are drawing to a close. It’s pretty bittersweet too, surprisingly. I’ve become very ready to be done nursing lately, or at least be done pumping, I should say. Which is silly, since I planned on continuing to pump for a while even after D stopped nursing, just to make sure we had enough stockpiled in the freezer to last her to the one year mark on breast milk. She gets distracted so easily now too, sometimes nursing was almost a chore. Getting her to pay attention to eating without chewing on my necklace instead, or watching R as he walked by, or listening to R if he started talking, or looking up at me if I said something, was becoming a little tiresome, and I knew it would probably just get more so the bigger and squirmier she got.

But now I actually kind of miss it. That really is a special bond between mom and baby, something no one else but me will ever get to experience or know. Gazing down at my precious little angel, just a few inches from my face, knowing I’m the one providing for her. Even when she was a newborn and it happened all hours of the day and night, sometimes to the point where I was convinced there was no way she’d be able to get another drop out of there since it seemed like she had just eaten, yet always did. And now it’s gone. Just like that. I didn’t get that one last nursing that I expected to have and remember when I wanted to stop, it just came out of the blue. I thought maybe I’d still get the occasional nursing in if she woke up during the night, or possibly at bedtime if she was really hungry/overtired and the bottle just wasn’t cutting it. But she woke up last night and refused me again, wanting the bottle instead. *Tear*

8.5 months is pretty good though, so I can’t be too upset. And like I said, I was pretty much ready for this. I just didn’t think it was going to happen right.now. I was planning on nursing her through the end of next month, with just a few more pumping sessions after that so I was done with the boob milk factory by summer. I guess D had different plans. I’m still going to try to pump twice a day to keep adding to our reserves for that next month, but I can tell that only expressing once every 12 hours has already started to reduce my supply over just these past couple days. Hopefully my body is just getting used to a reduced schedule and I’ll still be able to produce enough to keep that going for a couple more weeks, because I really didn’t want to be completely finished with it all quite yet. That one year mark is a big psychological barrier for me – I’ve always heard before then babies aren’t supposed to transition to cow’s milk, so I really really want to get her there with my milk if at all possible. I counted up how many bags we have frozen, and right now we’re sitting on 57. I’ll have to do a little math to see how long this will last us if my supply does dwindle before I’d hoped. And hopefully as D starts eating more and more solids and drinking more water between meals instead of milk, she won’t need as much Mommy’s milk and we’ll make it through the summer for her.

I can’t help but wonder – why did she decide to stop? Was it something I did? I thought maybe my little “Stop biting!” shout Thursday morning scared her away from me, that she started associating nursing with me getting upset, but she did nurse fine Thursday night and Friday morning. I sure hope that wasn’t the reason why. I’d feel so horrible if I scared my baby away from eating from me because I tried to make her eat when she wasn’t hungry and then startled her when I got bitten, which was totally my fault. Ugh. Did she start sensing my increasing anxiety of a nibble with each feeding? That I was scared that as she sprouted more teeth the likelihood that I was going to get bitten when I fed her increased exponentially? I did notice when I tried to feed her Friday afternoon/evening that she looked like she was going in more for a nibble than a suckling, so I kind of shied away each time. I don’t know. Maybe she’s just ready to be done. I seriously do hope, though, that it wasn’t something I did that made her want to stop. Fortunately she’s happy as a clam when she takes the bottles still, so she does continue to get the great nutritional value of my milk.

8.5 months and she’s already asserting some independence. Aww, my baby is growing up so fast… *sniff, sniff*

I must admit, though, it was nice to not bring the pump to work today for the first time since I’ve come back. And I don’t have to wear nursing bras anymore, or worry about nursing pads for said bras. And I won’t have to tote the pump along everywhere we go if we’re gone for more than a few hours anymore. Maybe I’ll be ok after all.

 

 

Posted on

It was a lazy day and a wine night

Today we had all the best intentions to get a lot of work done on the house, since we’ve been extremely remiss in that department lately and the four year mark of this remodel is knocking on the door. Honest.

However, an early rise by D, followed soon after by a 2 hour nap for her that allowed R to sleep in and me to go back to sleep too resulted in us turning this day into a fully lazy family day. And it was pure bliss.

We don’t get these often, and the skies have never come tumbling down when we’ve put off house work before, so we took full advantage. I did no cleaning or laundry, R hung not one inch of trim, D got to be in jammies all day after her bath this morning, and we spent the entire afternoon and evening catching up on and finishing the series Big Love. Ahh….

D’s cold is back – AGAIN – but her usual smiley little self was in full effect between naps, complete with laughing, squeaking, and scooting around the house. This afternoon I was blessed with 2 hours of my left arm full of this, though:

Beautiful sleeper

Followed by a little of this:

Happy 'lil girl

Tonight we cracked open 3 bottles of wine, simply because we can. They were great, too. I can’t remember the last time I actually thought each bottle we opened was really good. Here’s what our personal wine tasting entailed:

Lindaflor Malbec 2007
Menage a Trois 2009
Cupcake Shiraz 2008

 

It’s been a wonderful day. And the best part? The weekend’s only half over!

Posted on

Now I know how different a parent’s worry really is

“Stop worrying about me.”

Or, “Don’t worry so much.”

How many times have you said that to your mom over the years? Probably about eleventy billion. And how often did she reply, “I can’t”? I’m guessing about 100% of the time.

Now I know why.

Even though she’s only 8.5 months old, not a day goes by that I don’t worry about D.

And I don’t mean your run-of-the-mill piddly little worries that would make me a wildly stressed-out, obsessive, over-protective mom (which is pretty surprising, actually, since i really like to be in control of certain situations. i’ve turned out to be pretty laid back about this whole child-rearing thing after all. who’da thunk it?). Like I don’t get all worked up if D tips over and bumps her head (obviously as long as it’s not a life-threatening gash) or starts chewing on a piece of paper and accidentally swallows some. Eh, no big deal.

I’m talking big lifetime worries. Like how do I know if I’m raising her well? Will I be able to instill in her the values that I think she’ll need to be a good person? Will we be good enough parents to raise her to be a strong, smart, independent woman, with a good head on her shoulders? How do I make sure she has a solid foundation off which to grow the rest of her life? How do I keep from turning her into one of the specimens you see on Intervention or COPS or Girls Gone Wild?Will I be able to prevent her from being one of those snotty, bratty, disrespectful, obnoxious kids you see constantly fighting with their parents in public and who you just want to slap silly? Do I have the strength to not screw up royally along the way somewhere and break my child (emotionally and mentally, not physically. i’m pretty sure i would never crack a bone in her body)?

See what I mean?

She is so pure and innocent and beautiful and happy and full of wonder and curiosity right now. Every time I look at her or watch her playing with R or listen to her talking to her toys, my heart just swells with love and pride that we actually made that ridiculously awesome little person.

My absolute worst nightmare is that I do something that extinguishes that amazing little spirit in her and she turns out to be a lost, mad, unhappy person who hates her mom. I really don’t know what I would do to cause such a transformation, and I hope and pray every day that I never find out. But knowing that I am now fully responsible for molding this little person and shaping her future fills me with worries like this that I’m pretty certain will never subside.

And I’ve realized that I just can’t help it. I don’t sit and stew over these things every waking minute, mind you, but such thoughts do dance in and out of my mind a couple times a day.

And maybe that’s a good thing? Maybe it would be bad if I didn’t worry about her like this. Maybe it’s just showing how much I love her and want to always protect her and be there for her however she needs. Maybe.

And these worries are SO much different than any others I’ve ever had, no matter how important I thought those were at the time. Like what college am I going to go to, what kind of career path do I want to take, where do I want to live? Granted those are all pretty big life decisions, but raising a kid? Trumps them all, hands down.

Just last night, D was scooting around the house following me (which is super freaking hilarious, btw), and she got to our bedroom doorway. Just inside that doorway is the door to our laundry chute (well it’s not really a chute, more just a hole that opens straight to the basement and laundry basket below), which currently has no door on it since it was ripped off to redo the room and has yet to be replaced. She didn’t go near it, but I instantly thought oh my god, what if she fell head-first through that hole and splatted on the hard concrete basement floor?? I’d die.

That last one falls more in the head-bumping or paper-eating category than the screwing-her-up-for-life category, but you feel me. A mother’s worry truly is never-ending. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

<3