Before I REALLY Don't Have Time...

Baby/Daughter/Blessing #3's coming in less than 3 days. I just realized there are still no postings regarding last Christmas or even the girls' birthdays. That's just sad.

So here's the drive-by (and highly photographed) version. Try to keep up.

Cecily turns 3!

The birthday girl

The birthday decor

The birthday aftermath/loot

CC approves the cake...

As does Malia...

As does Daddy

A little post-birthday celebration Wii

And finish off the hard-core partying with a thumb

Disneyland Trip Sandwiched In-Between Birthdays

As always, visit Tinkerbell, first and foremost

A drinking fountain for everyone

Splurge (and I mean SPLURGE!) on a face painting...

... times 2.

Get extra birthday attention from a real live princess...

... and then Mommy gets sad because both her camera and her phone die. But, trust me... we had a good (expensive) time. (Our passes expired the day after this) :(


Malia turns 6!

Squeeze presents in before dance class

This is the part that's impressive: I had been promising Malia a birthday party all year. But December got really overwhelming and I broke that promise. When I asked her what she'd like to do instead, she said, "Bowling." (No clue why). We took her to this immaculate location near where we were planning on having dinner, and they were closed for some private party (this place wouldn't take reservations when I had asked a week or two before). And Malia didn't shed a single tear! She just accepted it! It was awesome. So, we just headed early to our reservations at "Goofy's Kitchen."

Goofy's Kitchen: Totally overpriced but the girls LOVED all the characters and Dave was pleasantly surprised that everything he ate he thought was delicious. Minnie Mouse even came over to give them a special cupcake and sing "Happy Birthday."

"I'm 6!"

Pre-Christmas Christmas

Opening presents from family the night before leaving for WA so we don't have to pack them

"Daddy? Can you help me open this?"

"You're taking too long - I need to entertain myself...".

Malia made this for her parents for Christmas

Christmas In Issaquah

I try to get the girls outside at least 30 minutes a day - a lot harder in a wet, cold place. Thank goodness Grandma's house had a trampoline.

And thank goodness Daddy was willing to jump, since Preg-o Mommy couldn't

"Jump higher, Daddy!"

Trying to make up for the birthday-bowling-mishap

Even CC tried.... once.

Grandma April was good about assisting Malia since Mommy pulled a ligament picking up a ridiculously-too-heavy-for-a-pregnant-woman bowling ball

CC decided keeping score was more fun than playing

The air hockey table looked exciting (for about 1 minute)

Christmas Day

The girls were actually pretty good sports about having to open presents AFTER going to Church

CC spends a lot of time on getting each toy out of their boxes after they've been unwrapped

Some of the bigger toys are gifts to them both

Spend oodles of cash on gifts for children - child latches on to Slinky worth $1.

CC lost interest in toys and just wanted food - typical

New Year's

Last year we went to the beach on New Year's Day, which is something I hope to make a tradition as long as we live near the ocean. However, January 1st fell on the Sabbath this year, so we went to the beach on New Year's Eve.

What is it with kids and chasing birds?

Defiant CC

Compliant CC

Pretty girls

That night, we took the girls out on a NYE "date" to Olive Garden where we all got dressed in our Sunday best. Then we came home and had a small party before getting the girls to bed on time (our new Church time slot the next morning was going to be 9:00 - no need to make it any harder than it was already going to be).

Our party attire

CC eating white chocolate popcorn

CC eating more popcorn

"Happy New Year!" (at 7:45 PM PST)

The aftermath

"Are You Ready?"

I hear that question about 2 or 3 times a day as soon as people are done gawking at my gargantuan belly and I then inform them that I'll be having this baby in a week and a 1/2.

"Are you ready?" they ask.

If you mean, Do I have a crib and a car seat and diapers and clothes and burp cloths and a breast pump and all of the necessary physical amenities to satiate an infant's temporal needs? Then, yes.

If you mean, "Are you ready?" Then, no.

Confession: I don't do newborns.

Don't get me wrong. I see newborns and I think they're beautiful and miraculous and amazing and precious...

I want to hold them. Kiss their heads. Smell them. Love them.

I miss my girls as newborns.

But I also couple the thought of that tiny time in both of their lives with a living nightmare. Not gonna' lie.

This was my beautiful Malia - all of the time. Not from 5-10 PM; not every couple of hours; not when she was tired or hungry; not after shots... nope.

All. Of. The. Time.

For 5 months.

Oh, sure. There were happy moments - I have pictures of those, too. In fact, I kept a camera on my hip at all times to be sure to capture those moments whenever they did, in deed, happen. But the above face was seen more often than not. Count your blessings that's not a video with sound up there, yo.


This is my hand.

These are bite marks that were put there by me - a grown, intelligent, capable woman - who couldn't deal with the anxiety and the rising blood pressure that I experienced and later came to be diagnosed as a result of post-partum depression. Why do I have a picture, you may wonder? Because I looked at my hand one day and realized I needed help. I took a picture to remind myself to not let it get to that point again.

This is what I would do to my hand when Cecily would cry... like all babies do... simply to communicate. The sound made me feel like I was failing as a mother and that colic was knocking at my door yet again. And then my nervous system would go crazy (pun intended) and I had to lash out. So I would bite my hand. I have a scar on my lip from when Malia was little and her crying became so much I'd bite down. With Cecily? It became my hand. As long as it wasn't on the baby was all that mattered to me.

But I have issues, ok? Real, therapy-needed, diagnosable issues. I've talked to my doctor already. He's fully prepared to drug me up if that is the necessary case (last-ditch resort, mind you). And I have a chiropractor friend who treated Cecily when she was 2 weeks old and who I fully intend to visit ASAP with this next one. I went to a therapist for 4 months after CC was born to help me find tactics and tools to get through those moments when I felt like someone else was at the wheel.

I have to remind myself that I have raised two beautiful, healthy, fairly-well-behaved girls up to this point. I'm not terrible at it. I'm not a champ, by any means, but I figure it out as I go by. If child-rearing were an Olympic sport, I wouldn't medal, but I think I'd at least qualify.

Okay, ladies. Honesty time (when isn't it honesty time in my world...?). I have a lot of pregnant friends right now. It seems last summer was a fertile time in my social circles. And I want this baby. I mean, I was willing to completely forgo even having a period after last spring's miscarriage in order to test out the rumor that women are very fertile after a miscarriage - a theory that proved true for us. For that reason, I've technically been pregnant for a little over a year. I know that we are meant to be a "minimum-of-3-kids family." I am excited for this baby girl. I love my children. The fear I had when I was pregnant with Cecily that I couldn't possibly love her like I love Malia is non-existent this time around, because I have now experienced the unconditional and infinite love a mother can feel for more than one child. THAT is totally in baby #3's favor.

But the thought of knowing what's to come has me terrified. And I'm having a hard time biting my tongue as my multiple pregnant girlfriends post on their FB statuses(ii?) about how excited they are and all the plans they have for themselves and their impending wee one (and yes - I admit I'm judging many of them like the mean girl I am because, for a good majority of them, this is their first). I don't want to be the storm cloud that rains on the parade with comments like: Just you wait until it's 3 AM and little Junior is showing no signs of slumber or HA! You think you're uncomfortable now?! Ever heard of mastitis?! or I'm glad you love making all those baby purchases. But in 3 months you'll feel like you're tossing bricks of gold into that diaper genie (all of which I've literally typed out and deleted and replaced with a simple click of the "Like" button on their status).

But that's what I do when I'm scared - I assume everyone else in the world is dumb. And the (possibly [probably] conceived by me) "cluelessness" (or maybe it's precious optimism and I'm just a sad, bitter old curmudgeon) of my other pregnant Mommy friends only seems to rub salt in the wound that is my self-doubt. I've done this twice. But I'm really scared to do it a 3rd time. I'm scared of the sleep-deprivation and the crying and the first few days of struggling to breast feed and the first few months of clinging desperately to any control I thought I once had in my life. And the biggest part of my fear is the fact that I have two living/breathing children who will still need me to be functioning; and I'm concerned about my ability to function.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who goes through this thought process before a baby's born. Please tell me that it's not supposed to be all about the itty-bitty booties and hand-stitched bibs and smiling wistfully at the fluffy, new crib bedding. Please tell me that women are allowed to think this realistically without being judged or ridiculed or reminded about that superhumanity of all the perfect moms who came before them....

So, maybe all of this begs a new question: "Then why are you doing it again?"

This is why.

And this is why.

And this is why.

And this is definitely why.

Let's just hope I make it through the "Why ME?!"s better than I have before so I can get to the "Why"s much sooner... for everyone's sake.