First Haircut!!

We traveled up to Michael's family's house this weekend and had a ton of fun!

Among the fun things we did that weekend, Michael got his first (long overdue) haircut from Aunt Tracee.

She did an amazing job....and here are some before, during and after pictures!!

Here is a shot of Michael a few days ago. Look at that wild hair!

This is a shot just before the haircut!!

And now things are really underway!!

I liked this straight-down-the-middle style so much, I was almost thinking of halting the whole process, but I thought better of it!

The strategy for the cut was to feed him his favorite snacks so he would stay content long enough for a cut. We kept piling blackberries, cheese, and crackers. We tried Jello, but he didn't go for that.

Uncle Georgie and Aunt Noree' did a great job entertaining him too!!

Tracee is putting on the finishing touches!

Enhancing that little front curl!!

Almost done! He is looking so good!!

Checking himself out!

He likes what he sees!! So do I!

Such a handsome boy! A special thank you to Tracee for employing your talents masterfully!! Also, thank you to Noree' and Georgie for keeping him entertained through it all!

Day at the Beach

Wednesday, Michael and I decided to go to the beach.

We had a blast!

Michael has been taking shorter afternoon naps lately, and I thought the beach would really wear him out.

It didn't really, but we still had fun. (Today he took a long nap, so he's off probation :) )



When we got there, he immediately took the sand and wanted to squish it in his fingers and dig in it and pile onto his lap.


After playing for a while, I took him down to the water and sat him at the shoreline.

I was a little concerned for how he would react to the wave coming...would he be scared? Would he be overwhelmed?

But he LOVED it!

(I didn't take any pictures during this time, because I wanted to keep a close eye on him.)

He kept pointing at the people out in the ocean, he kept digging in the mud, and kicking his feet when the water would puddle around him. He kept yelling at the water, especially when the waves got closer. He would point, and scream with a big smile at his face, and to be honest, I think he was a little disappointed the times it didn't come all the way to him.


After a while, I took him back to our towel, cleaned off his hands and gave him a snack. He enjoyed the crackers and string cheese, but was determined to get back to the water.

He took off crawling, as fast as he could straight toward the water.

When he arrived at the shoreline, he just kept going and going, crawling straight to the water! The waves that were going to come in were still a little ways out, and he didn't realize that when they came, they were going to really get him wet!

Finally, a wave came. He was crawling at the time, and the wave came up to his elbows. He thought it was hysterical!

I moved him a little further up, so the water wouldn't come up so high on him and sat him down. When the wave came again, he got so excited and kicked his legs so hard he fell backwards into the water. Again, I was worried about his reaction, but he thuoght it was funny!

Well, after about an hour and a half, I thought it was time to go home. I loaded him up into the car, simply amazed at how much sand we were carrying with us.

I didn't know where to begin cleaning ourselves off, so I just loaded him up in the car as he was, and figured I could clean him off.

I took him home, took him straight into the tub and washed what seemed like half of La Jolla Shores down the drain. I toweled off a very happy, silly baby who had a great first day at the beach!

I Can't Think of a Caption

Can you?

A Flexible Kid

I'm not really referring to the fact that Michael is flexible because he can put his feet in his mouth...

...or that he can fall asleep sitting with his legs crossed, leaning over with his forehead on the mattress....

...but, I suppose, I could mean that because he can do both those things....

But this is really a little "thank you" to him for being flexible with me and my schedule.

Last Friday, at 8 am, I had an ultrasound appointment for them to take one extra look at Matthew.

Rest assured, nothing is wrong, but there was something on the first ultrasound they wanted more detail on, so they called me back for a second one. Everything looks perfect (they said he has a big head though!).

However, 8 am is early to be out the door, bottled, breakfasted, diapered, changed, drive 20 minutes, park, and register, to be ready to be on the ultrasound bed by 8. Include having to worry about drinking tons of water beforehand...it's just quite a departure from our normal routine.

Fortunately, we had an early start anyways so we could take Michael Sr to the airport for a conference. We were going to be in that part of town anyways, so it was a perfect excuse to get to the hospital early, pack a breakfast to go, and just wait, rather than rushing out the door.

7:30 comes, I'm already registered, and I give Michael his breakfast.

8 am comes. No one comes out.

8:10....

8:15...

...did I mention I had to drink tons of water for this appointment?

....8:20....

Meanwhile, Michael is busying himself crawling as far as he can go down the halls of the hospital. Fortunately, it is carpeted, and it's more of a waiting area, so there was no traffic...but this child couldn't get enough of going as far as he could go! I would pick him up and bring him to where the stroller was, and he would just turn right back around and crawl as fast as he could as far as I would let him. 5, 6, 7, times I picked him up and brought him to where he started, and, undeterred, but almost with a little *sigh* as if had to start back from the beginning, he would take off on his journey.

Finally, someone with a clipboard comes over. I stand up, anxious to get going.

"Oh, you might as well just sit down! The machine is broken. You'll have to wait for the previous patient to be done! It will be at least another half an hour."

Well, Michael was happy, and I wasn't going to reschedule and deal with getting down to the hospital on some other occasion, so I told her "no problem" and chased Michael again, who, while I was talking was a good 50 feet from me now. He looked back at me, realizing how far I was from him, and whimpered a little until I went to get him .

Here's a quick thought, though for the medical community. When you tell a pregnant lady to drink a lot of water for an appointment at a particular time, please be ready by that time!

Another 40 minutes pass (in that time, a nurse came to watch Michael so I could do what needed to be done) and finally, we get called in.

Now, waiting in the waiting room, where Michael is content to explore the halls was easy. The real concern was about to begin: how was Michael going to handle being in his stroller for 40 minutes while they get this ultrasound done? I just prayed everything would be alright.

I had an arsenal of toys, books, and things to occupy him, but was skeptical that it would actually work. I was sure, at some point he would just start whining, wanting to be out of the chair, and I would either have to keep getting up to toss some new toy at him, or it would be a lost cause altogether and we would just have to reschedule for a time when someone could watch him while I had the appointment.

But, as the title of this post indicates, Michael was very flexible, and was, in fact, enthralled watching the ultrasound screen.

He sat in his stroller, eyes glued to the screen, almost, at times, looking like he would fall asleep! And at other times, sinking low in his stroller, peering over the edge with only his eyes and forehead visible, with his hands perched over the edge, again, just watching the screen intently.

He was so good the whole time. He played with some books, made faces at me, and didn't utter a word of protest at all.

So, thank you for being so flexible, baby Michael! You're a good boy!!

Loves His Daddy

Michael and baby Michael have a very special bond.

From day one...gosh, even minute one, baby Michael has been his Daddy's boy.

This bond continues to grow and strengthen, and it is so fun to watch.

One of their favorite bonding times is playing the guitar.

Michael Sr. first brought out the guitar several months ago, and baby Michael instantly responded to it, and even started dancing to it.


Since then, he even asks for songs by name!


There is one song Michael plays for him. I'm assuming the name is "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone." It was originally done by Paul Revere and the Raiders and covered by the Monkees. The lyrics are "I- I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone" repeated a few times, then more lyrics.

Well for a baby, especially one who is quite adept at saying "Hi" and "eyes"...this is a perfect song for him, because he can actually request and sing along to it.

When he ventures into our room and sees Michael's guitar there, he will look at me and say "I-ya!" and sometimes "I-ya-ya" and point to the guitar.

It has even happened on a few occasions that while Michael is singing to him, he will stop, right where the chorus comes in, and baby Michael will chime in, right on cue, with his "I-ya!" Bopping and shaking his head, kicking his feet and moving his whole body to the music.

Not to be a mere spectator, Michael will get up and start to "play" the guitar with Daddy.

At first, he was either stopping the strings altogether, or trying to pull them, but one day, he seemed to "get it" and was actually able to strum the strings to get a sound, while Michael Sr. held the frets for baby Michael to play a chord.

It was fun for all.

P.S Sorry the photos are so grainy. It was dusk, the lamp in our room isn't all that bright, and everyone was dancing around!

Quick Story

Michael is good at a couple things:

1) He's pretty good at imitating sounds. If you make a sound, chances are, at least once, he'll imitate something like it back to you.

2) He's excellent at his hard "C" sounds...or "K" sound, if you will.

3) He thinks words that in an "ee" sound are funny. "Messy" will often get a laugh, "Yummy", etc.

Combine these three skills together for a funny story.

Yesterday afternoon, I went in to get Michael after he woke up from his nap.

I walked in and could tell he needed a diaper change. The room kinda smelled.

I picked him up and dramatically said, "Michael! You're STINKY!!!!"

He laughed and said, "...inky!!!!" with a huge smile on his face.

Of course, this led me to repeat the word "stinky" many times. Though I never got him to imitate the word quite as well as the first time, each time I said it, he laughed and laughed and laughed.

He's adorable even when he smells.

12.5 Month and 3.5 Months BB Update

It's hard to believe it has already been half a month since Michael's birthday! If time keeps going this fast, Matthew will be here in no time flat!

Let's start with the youngest:

Baby Matthew seems to be doing well. He is kicking away, yet, it seems with a bit less tenacity than his brother kicked. Maybe I'm comparing him to Michael at the end of the pregnancy, but Matthew's kicks are a little less frequent and a little more gentle, at least at this point.

I also haven't had back pain like I did at this point with Michael. Oddly, with Michael, the back pain wasn't at the end of the pregnancy, but it was just one spot, on my right side just under the shoulder blade. One knot formed and each night, Michael Sr., being such a great husband, would always help try to alleviate the pressure, typically, at my request, by pushing his fist in that spot as hard as he could.

But so far, no such spot exists with Matthew. Maybe he just hasn't gotten in a spot yet to strain that muscle, or maybe the muscle got stretched out enough last time.

Other than that, not much to report on him! He seems to be doing well! Poor kiddo, though, I'm not even paying attention to how far along I am. With Michael, I could answer on any given day, "I am ___ weeks and __ days." With Matthew, I'm not even paying attention. Am I 24 weeks? 25? I don't even know.

Regardless, we can't wait for him to come. It will actually be less than 3.5 months...more like 3 months since C-sections are usually scheduled early. That, to me is crazy. Am I really in my third trimester?

______

Baby Michael is busy as always. His eating is doing well. He is now in a big fruit phase (still working on those veggies. The occasional corn and broccoli is tolerable at this point), but eating other foods well too. I'm not too worried about his diet. He seems to get all that he needs and just looks so cute doing it. I love it when he takes a whole fistful of food and shoves it in his mouth. It is so cute...though sometimes unnverving because he isn't even done chewing one mouthful before he is cramming more in. I have to moderate every now and again.

His movement is getting very good. He likes to cruise on furniture, and loves holding on to someone's hands to walk. He moves his little legs as fast as they can go, and laughs the entire way. Then, he'll just decide that he's either done walking, or he's arrived at his intended destination and just sit down.

He has these lengthy conversations with things sometimes. Lately, it has been his sippy cup. He'll look at it and go on and on and on, inflecting his voice, raising his eyebrows and making different sounds. It is so funny to watch. I just sit back and imagine what he thinks he is saying.

We're definitely starting to communicate, which is fun. He loves the ceiling fan above the dining room table to be on...pretty much at all times. If it is off, he'll look up, point to it, and say something, I can't really imitate it on a keyboard. Maybe something to the effect of, "Go-gah?" It's a very sweet, questioning sort of voice, like, "Can you turn the fan on, please?" It's not demanding, but it is a clear request. I love it. I turn the fan off a lot just so he'll ask me again.

These beginnings of communication, I think, are so fun, but I can see how it may get frustrating for him. I can tell that he really thinks he is saying something that I'm supposed to understand. The look on his face,and the tone of his voice is clear, and I know he wants something, but there is nothing indicating what that is (unless it's the fan...got that one down). He keeps repeating himself, and all I can do is ask "What?" and try to troubleshoot what he might want. But I don't think I get it. Fortunately, he doesn't get mad. He just either keeps repeating himself, or moves on to something else.

His napping/sleeping are continuing to go well. He only naps in the afternoon now, which means that we have the mornings to do pretty much whatever we want. On the one hand, it is great because we can go to Mass, go to the park, run errands, etc without fear of interrupting a nap...on the other hand, it was nice having a little break in the morning. Now, I don't even have him in his bed for quiet time. I just keep him up until 1 for his one and only nap. Fortunately, that nap is getting pretty long...reliably at least an hour and a half, and has, even gone up to 3 hours. Nice.

Night time sleep is great as always. He regularly gets up after 7 now. It's great. I'll enjoy it while I can until a newborn comes who has no concept of how just plain wrong it is to be conscious before 7.

Lately, he is becoming a bit attached to Michael and I. More so, Michael, but I'll do in a pinch. Even at home, with Michael moving from room to room, baby Michael gets upset if he loses contact with his dad. It's cute but also a bit impractical. Seriously, how is it that he can be held by his dad and eat his breakfast at the same time? That just doesn't work. So we usually just hope the crying will subside quickly in the face of blackberries, eggs, or whatever else is on the breakfast menu.

For the first time today, he actually got a little "clingy" to me too. He has never minded anyone else holding him, but today, for whatever reason, he just latched on to me and made it clear he didn't want to move. It's sweet as the parent, but I can see how it is sad if you are a friend or family member who wants to hold him, and instead are met with a cry, a look, and clinging to Mommy like you are some sort of scary person. Maybe it's just a little phase.

Otherwise, everything is going great in our home. We have fun, try to get out each day to get some fresh air, and take advantage of the cool birthday presents he got, go to a park, etc. We have fun and are trying to stay cool at the same time. He runs around most of the time at home in just a diaper without a shirt. I love it. He's so cute that way, and it gives me ample options to smother him with kisses.

Just Being a Mom

It has been just over a month, I guess, since a replacement has been hired for my position at work. What a relief that was!

From about April until June, I was in this limbo mode. First off, I was sick. A first-trimester pregnancy kind of sickness which meant that I hardly had enough stamina to make sure my kid didn't stick his tongue in the electrical outlet or eat a paperclip off the floor, let alone go to the office and try to chase around a baby there while "getting work done."

Secondly, I knew I would be leaving, which meant, starting new programs was pointless, the old programs were just about finished, and everytime I thought about going in, I began to wonder, what is it I am supposed to be doing in this time anyways? It was this weird waiting game. I didn't like it, and not many around the office did either: "What's going on with you?" "Are you gone already?"

What the last few months of time at work were, was really the natural conclusion of what had been going on all year: babies require time. Family life requires presence. My parish can hire a new DCM, but I am the only Mommy and wife my family has. I began to realize that the more I tried to cook meals, keep the house cleaner, take care of the finances, accomodate my son's sleeping needs, be a good teacher/play-buddy to my son, and companion to my husband, there just wasn't enough of me to go around.

The writing had been on the wall for a while. Sure, in the Fall, I was able to run some events. In the Winter, I was on top of teaching my classes, but everyone started to see my ability to commit was waning:

"You say the meeting is at 6? I'm sorry, I can't make it, that's when we start getting the baby ready for bed."

"There's a staff meeting at 2? Oh man, I don't think I can come, that's when the baby takes his only nap of the day. If I miss it, it's going to be bad."

"The baby is too loud? You want me to spend the class standing outside? I'm sorry, I'm not going to get the baby all ready to get out of the house only to spend the whole time outside, not being present. I'd better just stay at home."

This became a mantra. I felt bad, but couldn't do much about it without compromising the baby's schedule, and in my opinion, hiswell-being (not an option) or hire someone to watch him on a regular basis while I take care of work. Not something we wanted to do.

Then came Matthew: a great reason to easily do what was needing to be done all along: pass on the baton. No one gets fired, no one quits without a good reason...just a happy conclusion to the story the parish needs someone with a full-time availability...and so does my family.

As I talk with the new DCM, I couldn't be more excited for the parish. He's full of energy, experience, great people skills, and a love for the Church. He has shared with me some of his ideas, and changes he has made and these conversations have been great because it just solidifies what is obvious: my time is over there, and it's time for someone new.

Yet, these conversations aren't without their sting too. It has become clear how much the job requires, and how my ability to give couldn't match that. My first year there was full of energy, promise, and availability. I was single, ambitious, and there for pretty much everything. My second year, I was married. Hey, I want to be home at 9:30 and not cleaning up coffee grounds and stacking chairs. It's the weekend, and instead of making sure someone didn't steal a pencil from the parish school, I wanted to be going to a movie with my husband.

But come November of that year, a new drama unfolded: the coming of baby Michael. Between the sickness, the exhaustion, swelling, and a couple trips to the hospital, I realized that the person that was working her tail off the year before just didn't exist in the same capacity...and didn't really want to.

Year number 3...well, it wasn't the beginning of the end. It was just the end. It wasn't just the time I no longer had, but it was the zeal. Of course, I still loved to teach. Of course, I still loved to help people get the sacraments, but my tolerance for the "other stuff" just plummetted.

I handled diplomatic issues with skill and grace, I thought....but once the baby came, it all seemed so silly to me. If I want to deal with someone who acts like they are one, or cries when you take something they want, or tell them "no"...I'll stay home! I began to appreciate that when there was crap to deal with at work, there was this game that had to be played. When there was crap to deal with at home....I just change the diaper and it's done.

Not that there was much of it going on at work. It's a GREAT place to work, with loving people, a great boss, etc, etc, but...there were some issues. Issues that still aren't resolved, and those began to wear on me more than they would have my first year. I purposely filled what time I could give, with things that didn't seem petty, things I thought could directly impact a person in need of the gospel...I see now that while my intentions were good, a lot of other things went neglected.

As these unresolved issues are passed on to my successor, or as things that just couldn't get my attention are now being tended to by someone who can give it his all, it makes me happy, and sad at the same time. I loved that job. I wanted to be great at it. I wanted to give it my all, I wanted to build something there. And it is a hard thing to hand on something I loved so much in such a state of incompleteness. I felt like I had a lot of explaining to do, I guess I still do. Look how long this post is already!

It took a few days of deep reflection to accept, and try to be thankful for the opportunity for humility, that, while I wasn't perfect, I also had legitimate reasons for not being able to give it my all.

Having few regrets about Michael's first year....how little time we actually had to spend apart, how hard I tried to take him with me...and how, in the end, I can honestly say I just tried to put my family first, I try not to beat myself up too much.

I wonder, maybe I should have cut the ties completely before Michael was born. Maybe, I should have gone on maternity leave and not come back. Even though someone else could have done a better job than my half-time-sleep-deprived-trying-to-get-this-kid-to-nap-oops!-Now-I'm-pregnant again-tired-morning-sick absent-mindedness...God must have intended that I stay for that time.

Maybe someone learned something , and that one thing was critical to some part of God's great design.

Of course, if I had left last year, then the DCM the parish hired wouldn't have been looking for a position, and someone else would have ended up with job...I don't know him well, but I can say from the times we have talked, that he is just what the parish needs...so I guess it's good I kept the seat warm until he got there.

But maybe, it was for me. Maybe, if I had quit when Michael came, I would have felt like I was giving up my job. Maybe I would have regretted leaving it behind. Maybe I would have longed to be doing the job I loved so much. Not knowing what it is like to be a mom, maybe I would have somehow "blamed" him for cutting short what I wanted to be a career.

Instead, the exact opposite happened. I longed to be home with him without feeling like I should be doing something else. I was burdened between two guilts: the guilt of not giving my job enough, and the guilt of taking the baby here and there, interrupting this nap and that nap just to try to work. When I was feeling good about work, I was feeling bad about my mothering. When I was feeling good about the mothering, I felt guilty about work.

What I learned is that no matter how great my job was, with great people, and so rewarding....I love just being a Mommy even more. I love just being "still" with my family. I love watching Michael play with something, being totally enraptured for 15 minutes at a time, without constantly watching the clock thinking, I need to get going. I love playing hide and go seek, or finding something that makes him laugh and knowing I don't need to put a limit on how long this goes on for. I love not stressing because he's napping until 4, rather than 2:30 like I had "scheduled."

Maybe I needed to learn that this is where my happiness was, and God knew that trying to straddle the fence was the way to teach me where my heart really wanted to be.

I guess all of these "maybes" can be true all at once. God only knows why the timing worked out the way it did. I am just happy they did work out this way. Sure, I'll be stretched way more in terms of patience than I was in the office. Sure, I don't really get sick days, or vacations. Sure, I'm on call all the time. Sure, the days can get kind of lonely. Sure, I'll have to be politically savvy, a great negotiator, motivator, manager. I'll have to be discplined, consistent, clear-thinking, firm, yet kind. Sure, I'll deal with irrationality, whining, tantrums, stubborness, willful disobedience. Sure, I may not get lots of thank yous, or "well dones."And the amount of time that I can claim as "my own" dwindles with each day, and with each addition to our family. Sure...all those things, and more, are probably true.

But in all of that, I honestly and completely echo the sentiments of my wonderful doctor when he congratulated me on our second pregnancy. He asked what that would mean for the job I had and I explained I would be staying home with the kids.

He shook my hand, smiled and said, "Congratulations! You've been promoted."