Speaking Without Words

Before I decided to go & get my PPD diagnosis, I was having some pretty rough days. And one of the main things that drove me to get it taken care of was the fact that my sweet little Malia was carrying the brunt of my pain on her tiny 3-year-old shoulders.

So not cool, Mommy. So not cool.

I remember one evening was particularly difficult. I had just put Cecily down for her final evening nap so that I could prepare dinner. About 5 minutes into her nap, she woke up crying. This was before we had made the decision to start sleep-training her which meant that, in order to get her to go back sleep, I'd have to rock her for a good 10-15 minutes. I was frustrated with dinner only 1/2-way done and a screaming child upstairs coupled with the fact that even someone simply breathing near me often set me off into sobbing.

David saw my frustration and said, "Let's just leave her be. She's tired. She needs this nap. She'll figure it out."

Well, she didn't. And the longer she cried, the more insane I felt I was getting. As we sat at the dinner table, tears started to run down my cheeks. I couldn't, for the life of me, just ignore the crying. It was grating on my every last nerve. Malia was watching me. I could see her concern, but I didn't care. I was overwhelmed with what was going on inside me. Raising blood pressure, rapid heart rate, stomach-twisting anxiety. At that minute, for the sake of all of us, David sent me and my food out into the patio where I could shut the door to block out the crying.

As I sat out there, eating corn on the cob and sobbing heavily, Malia would take a bite, and then look over her shoulder at me and grin. She knew I was sad (ha! understatement.) and she was making tremendous efforts to cheer me up. At one point, I looked up, and she and David had their heads and hands together as if they were sharing some sort of secret. He was teaching her something. But I could only see through the sliding glass door. I couldn't hear anything.

I watched, still sobbing and troubled, but driven by my curiosity.

Malia's curls bounced as her body language told me she was giggling and excited about what she had just learned. She turned around and grinned at me, holding up her little hand.

Her father had just taught her to say "I love you" in sign language, and she was holding it up, proudly, communicating to me that I'd be okay because, if nothing else, I really am loved.

For one brief moment, the sad tears of despair became tears of gratitude and I remembered, "This too shall pass..."

Thanks for the reminder, Sweet Pea.

Identity Crisis

When I was in Junior High, the teasing questions from people at Church about the nature of my paternity started to get really old. They would ask if I was adopted, with a wink & a grin... and I would smirk back and contrive a laugh.

They didn't realize that, like most 12/13-year-old girls, I was already sort of having an identity crisis. I could see the relation of my oldest brother & baby sister as well as how similar my older sister and other brother looked to each other. I could also see similarities between all of them and my parents. I already felt like a black sheep in personality. I didn't like hearing it about my looks.

My favorite comment was, "You guys have such beautiful children. It's funny, though. Tiffany doesn't really look like any of you."

Um.... thanks a lot.

Yeah, I know it wasn't meant the way it came out. But, remember: Pre-teen with pimples + glasses + a bad perm + pasty-white skin + absolutely no sign of a feminine, hourglass figure in the near future = traumatic identity crisis.

One evening, as I was browsing through a book about family history, I saw my nose. I was elated! There it was! All of my siblings have a ski-slope, scoopy nose with the obvious Dutch nob on the end. I had an almost Greek/Roman thing happening that I HATED. But so, it appeared, did a great great great grandmother on my mother's side.

WOOT!

I was related. Now I could actually retort when my dad joked with people about finding me in a dumpster at the Tijuana/San Diego border. (You think I'm kidding? You don't know my dad).

Well, imagine, after growing up with those insecurities, how it felt every time people said to me, "Wow. Malia looks so much like her father."

*sigh*

I know she's mine. Trust me. I was there. Plus where else would she have inherited her volume and hyperactivity? That's right - me.

My mother posted a picture of me on our family's personal blog last night. And, I'm sorry, but I doubt I'm the only one who can see that my girls are definitely MY girls.

Malia is on the left. I'm in the middle. And that's my sweet Cecily on the right.

I mean, it's obviously not a perfect match. They definitely both have a heckuvalot of their Daddy Nutter in them. I mean, they should.... they are, undoubtedly, his as well. But it just makes this Mama happy to know that I can prove to them in some tangible ways that they are mine... especially when they start denying it as young teens when I am embarrassing them. "You are mine, and there ain't nuthin' you can do about it!"

And that makes me happy.

My Nightly Change of Heart

The first cry, which is really more of a whimper, is the one that initially wakes me up.

Maybe if I lie really still and pretend it's not there, she'll go back to sleep.

Cry #2 is more insistent. This time it causes the husband to stir a little.

Ugh. Now the pressure's on. I'll give her one more chance to just go back to sleep.

Now for the third cry... this time more of a wail. Begrudgingly, I kick off the covers and go to retrieve her. It's difficult to carry such a chunky little package in the middle of the night when you can't see anything and are somewhat delirious. Sigh. Maybe we should just switch to formula & tank her up in the daytime. I grab the Boppy and take a seat on my bed. I un-swaddle her and I can feel her pull in all of her limbs and arch her back in a stretch.

She farts.

I try to stifle a laugh... don't want to disturb the husband any more than has already happened. He does have to make it to work in the morning, after all. So do I - but I can wear pajamas and not shower....

She begins to lose patience with me, grabbing at me and throwing her head at me with an open mouth, desperate to find her meal, as I fumble with my shirt and bra. She lets out an aggravated shriek.

"Shhhh. Be quiet, baby girl. Just a second...."

She latches on and I feel her entire body relax in peace and happiness. I drop my head and shoulders, exhausted.
When are you going to start sleeping through the night, huh?

I rub my eyes. They're dry and burning. I look at the clock. "3:45." Ugh.

My mind starts racing, as it usually does, with thoughts of the next day as well as plans to start motivating this little one to stop needing me at night. She's pretty chunky, after all. She'd survive, no doubt. I could send Malia & David to Grandma's for a weekend as I endure a couple of sleepless, cry-filled nights....

Just then she pulls off and looks up at me and lets out a contented sigh. I can barely make out her features in the dark, but what I do see are her big eyes, staring up at me, grateful & trusting. I take her hand in mine and let her grip my finger as I caress her soft knuckles. She lets out an effortless burp. I change her diaper quickly and re-swaddle her. She latches onto the other side and this time I feel her body relax as she begins to sleep again. She takes a very deep breath, and then lets out a long and tiny sigh.

I hold her upright as I walk her back to the bassinet. She lets out one more little burp, and I rock and pat her, just to make sure her stomach is happy before laying her back down. She rests her head on my shoulder, her body melding with the shape of mine. Completely relaxed and completely submissive. I give her a squeeze, kiss her little neck, and smell her head one last time before laying her down.

She farts again.

Fortunately, it causes only a small stir and she's off to dreamland for a few more hours.

I smile as I walk back to the bed, feeling tired, but happy and very in love.

Maybe we'll worry about the sleeping through the night thing next month....

A quick little catch-up

Last year I had some pretty serious thoughts regarding Easter. And, true to form, I have more. But I haven't decided whether to post them... at least not any time soon. Instead, I want to simply brag about my family a la' pictures (Did I even use that "a la'" correctly? The only french I really know is ballet terms).

We've had non-stop visitors for the last 2 weeks, which, while exhausting, makes me very happy. My sister and her husband, my Mom, & my brother came down first. I didn't have a chance to take any pictures, so I'm stealing these from my sister's blog. It was fun to go to Disneyland together and I'm sure they enjoyed the break from the Utah snow. Here are my dorky siblings. I can say that because we all know I'm the dorkiest one of us all. And no, not a single one of us is really very shy. It's a blessing... or maybe a curse.


Plus, Tina was able to meet her new niece, Cecily, for the first time.


And, of course, Malia was delighted, as always, to have her best buddy, Grandma Renee'. They wore each other out that day. I'm not sure who was more tired when we got home. They were both pretty tuckered out. But it was a success since they were able to ride "Small World" together. It's a must-ride for both Malia and my mom.


Afterwards, Grandma April & Aunt Elise came by during their Spring Break to escape the Seattle grays (although - apparently, while they were here, Washington had some gorgeous sunshine). I don't have any pictures from their visit because April has that awesome camera... so I will just wait ever-so-patiently until she so graciously sends me some. :) The best part of their visit was the fact that she did all of my laundry! I mean *clears throat* I mean just having their wonderful presence in my home... (and the part about my laundry... I mean, come on. That's awesome).

David's grandparents stopped by for about 10 minutes on their way to a funeral... and we will be seeing them again in a week as they make the rounds before heading on their mission to Ghana, Africa! Awesome, right?!

And then, for Easter weekend, my mom came by again to help relieve us of the girls so that I could direct the choir on Sunday for the Easter program (in which David is, of course, obligated to sing in). Despite a little chaos before getting started.... long story... it went well, and there's nothing like music to really bring out the spirit and remind us of why we meet together in the first place.

Of course, as usual, my mom brought new, matching outfits for her granddaughters to wear.


And even though Cecily is a really happy baby, her smile really has become elusive whenever we try to get a picture... but we GOT one! Isn't she so freaking adorable?!!


This is what I pretty much do to her whenever I get the chance and Malia isn't desperately vying for my attention.


And THEN! *drumroll please* We have an actual fully-posed family picture to share! Seriously. I don't know why it took us until Cecily was 4 months old for this to be achieved, but as my mother and I were leaving Church for Cecily's nap, I said, "Mom! Take our picture!" and I pulled Malia out of Primary, and David out of the hall (where he was socializing and ditching class). Here we are in our Easter wear. Aren't we CUTE?!

4/10/2009

Dear Lili-Bug,

You. are. a. handful. A delightful handful, yes. But a handful nonetheless. I am so incredibly grateful that I became rigid on sleep schedules as a result of your colic because, even though you've undoubtedly outgrown your nap and don't really need it anymore, you take it anyway and it gives me 1 precious & beautiful hour to simply sit and stare at the wall... an activity I've grown accustomed to truly enjoying. Your Grandma April & Aunt Elise recently visited, and although she is only 10-years-old, you wore out Elise completely. It's nice to know there are those out there who now know exactly why I'm completely famished at the end of the day. You aren't troublesome... just very active.

You have an addiction to temporary tattoos. Ever since seeing them being sold in the gumball machines at the grocery store, you are constantly bringing them up. It was as if you loved the fact that this "sticker" never fell off. And your favorite place to put them is smack dab in the middle of your belly, which is fine, except that you insist on lifting up your shirt to show it to perfect strangers. We'll have to be sure to work on that before Spring Break 2025.

You've lost your 24-7 playmate in me, and I am aware and it does make me sad for you. I am now realizing how much of me I truly did give to you, as I am now not able to do so with the addition of your little sister. The other day I finally had to sit you down, look you in the eyes, and explain to you how important it was for you to play by yourself once in a while so that I could nurse your sister, who is growing more and more aware and is now easily distracted when you are running around the room. I could see the sadness in your eyes as I requested this, but I appreciated the, "Ok, Mama. I'll try." That's really the only thing I will try to ever ask of you... that you'll try. Remind me of this if you ever feel like I'm pushing too hard.

I don't know if I'll ever get used to how pretty you are. 3-years-old and people still stop me in public, as they have since the day you were born, to marvel at your hair & eyes. I never thought I could produce such a little beauty. I suppose that's why I usually credit your father. That's another thing. I hope you don't inherit my self-esteem.

I'm working hard to teach you the Gospel, and even though I'm not sure how deep it is truly sinking in yet, I am delighted when you tell people, "I'm getting married in the temple," "I get baptized when I'm 8-years-old," & "Jesus is my brother. He died for me 'ecause He loves me." I hope you hold on to those 3 principles forever. I'll be really happy if you do.

So will you.

You are constantly making me laugh. The other day, your little sister woke from her nap with one eye completely closed shut with goop from her clogged tear duct. We were all laughing at her (poor Cecily) when you said, "She looks like a pirate!" Later that night, in the bathtub, when she accidentally kicked you in the eye, I hesitated as I waited for you to start crying. However, you simply burst into laughter and said, "Now I'm a pirate!"

There are some words you use that floor me. And the amazing thing is, you aren't just imitating words you hear, but use them correctly with complete comprehension. "Gorgeous" & "actually" are the 2 that are my favorite. They just sound so ridiculous coming out of your little mouth. You're really so smart. I don't know if I've ever met a girl with the brains, personality, & the looks to boot. And it's not like I'm biased as your mother or anything....

I suppose that's all I have to say right now as, at this very moment, you are standing at the door with your My Little Ponies (your new obsession) waiting for me to come play with you. And because your sister is napping and not nursing, I really have no excuse. So, here I come, little buddy. But can I be Starsong this time? After all, purple is my favorite color...

Love, Mommy



Dear CCLemon,


Thank the heavens above you are, for the most part, a pretty chill kid. As of the last week or so, you have learned that voluminous, high-pitched tones will get Mommy's attention, so we may have to work on that, but you are otherwise, pretty relaxed. So much so that it takes every ounce of energy I have left in me to get you to laugh. Smiling is a piece of cake. You're a happy girl who absolutely loves face time from her parents, but I finally got a laugh out of you the other day. It melted my heart completely. But now it's nearly impossible to get another one. All of my antics simply garner a look of, "What in the world are you doing, Mom? Honestly." I'll get plenty of that when you're 13. Can't you humor me for now?


You are definitely a chubba-bubba, and I LOVE it! I could squeeze and nibble your thunder thighs all. day. long. It's so nice to have a child who eats and eats well. Because I have such peace of mind with that, I'm still ok with you waking to eat at night. Sometimes, I even enjoy it. Just you and me, in the dark in the wee hours of the morning, as you hold my finger and I caress your wonderfully soft knuckles. It's hard to be the 2nd child, because you never get 100% of my attention, so I think we both like that quiet time with just us. When you're older, I'll try to be sure to still squeeze that in for us... maybe not the night-nursings... but the alone quiet time. You & me.

Your eyes are still blue which makes this blue-eyed Momma very happy. And you have a ton of hair. Except for on the back of your head. So you have a fountain of a ponytail on the top, where I clip a fun little bow, and then a massive bald spot on the roundest part of your head, and then straight, long, mullet-like hair at the back. It's ok. Trust me, it'll grow in. If there's one thing both your father & I have given you, it's plenty of hair.

You still haven't decided how you feel about your sister, and that's ok. She wears me out, too. But I thank you for tolerating her so that I don't have to feel like I'm yelling at her to be careful with you all of the time. I promise I'm on your side, really. But thanks for your patience.

You are on a pretty strict schedule, and I appreciate that as well. You didn't really have a choice, but you succumbed fairly painlessly, which was refreshing. You're an obedient little girl... we'll see how long it lasts.

I love waking you from your naps, releasing you from your swaddle and watching you stretch every last inch of your body as you grin at me, well-rested. I need to get a picture of it sometime because it makes me realize I've really missed you while you've been sleeping. And I have. I was nervous about loving you "as much as" I love your sister. But I know now that it's not a problem at all. And while I love you differently, I love you both unconditionally, and that means infinitely and forever with every ounce of me.

We're excited to see what kind of dynamic you bring to our little family, CC. We love you tons and can't wait to love you even more.

Love, That Lady Who Feeds You

Pictures Worth a Thousand Words...

This is why the plan of happiness considers families crucial... you don't know true happiness without them. I'm convinced.