Aww

Tonight Olive had a little trouble falling asleep. Teething, etc. I snuggled her for awhile, reminiscing about how I used to pace around her room, holding her the same way, when she was just a couple months old during those long nights where she just didn't feel like sleeping in her crib. She's much bigger now, but her head feels just as sweet on my shoulder.

As I laid her back down in her crib, I smoothed her hair back from her forehead and said, "I love you." And Olive, with her paci half hanging out of her mouth, said, "Ahhhhwuhh too."

It is these kinds of moments that will live in my mind forever.

Guilt

There are a lot of things I was completely unprepared for when I became a parent. Everyone had said there was no real way to explain what being a parent was like, and I always scoffed at it. How hard to explain could it be? And then I had a baby, and thought, oh. I get it now.

But of all the things I was unprepared for, there is one that really surprised me. I had no idea how much guilt I would feel. Almost every day there is something to feel guilty about. Maybe it's just society and marketers and etc. etc. making me feel inadequate and blah-dee-blah. But for the few people who still follow this blog, you know how rarely I post anymore. And I feel awfully guilty about that.

This blog is it in terms of memories. I keep no baby book. I don't organize our photos (though I do take some). I have a terrible memory, so if I don't write things down, I know the details of this time of our lives will fade away. It kills me that Milo and Olive aren't going to remember anything from this stage of their lives. We have such good times and share such sweet moments, but the memories will melt away like an ice cube in summer.

Here's my plan. The list of occasions and moments I want to remember has become staggeringly long, and therefore I have been avoiding trying to tackle it--because where does one even begin?--but all that will begin to change. I have been spending a lot of time lately on an entrepreneurial adventure, but in a week or so I will hand most of that off to my business partner. I found time to work on that business when I would have said before that my schedule was full. Now I need to turn those hours into blogging hours (at least partially). No excuses, right?

To make myself even more accountable, here is the list of things I want to blog about:
Halloween (I know, I know, it was over six months ago. Yikes.)
Christmas
Olive's first birthday (How can I have missed documenting my daughter's first birthday?!)
Gymnastics
The Gender Reveal
My sweet Milo
Our trip to Branson
And probably hundreds more will come to me over time.

It's crazy to think how much I've missed. But I'm going to try to do better. I can't promise the writing will be stellar, but at least my kids will have some clue about what their early childhoods were like. I love those two more than I can even explain, and I hope that someday they'll read all these entries and maybe begin to understand that just a little. Here we go...

A Major Accomplishment

My weight has now fallen below the weight listed on my driver's license. This has got to be the first time this has ever happened in the history of the world. And you know that when I listed that weight, I was at least ten pounds heavier than I claimed to be. Hot damn, I am a mere seven pounds away from my high school weight. High school! And let me tell you, my boobs are way bigger now than they were back then. I'm like a fine wine, continually getting better with age. Right?

She's Mine

Sometimes a wave of love so strong for my girl washes over me that I am completely pulled under it. My heart aches and my eyes fill with tears. Tonight as I rocked her before bed I noticed, not for the first time, how her eyes don't quite shut all the way when closed, in her most relaxed state.

Just like mine.

I inspect her toes, trying to see if her second toe will end up longer than her first.

Just like mine, like my mother's, like my grandmother's.

I gaze at her hair, in the sun, in the shade, in all different lights. Just to see how very red it is. And are her eyelashes strawberry blonde?

Just like mine?

This baby girl has my whole heart. She is all mine.

How can it be time already?

I go back to work tomorrow. I can hardly believe it. I bet if I looked at a post back around September 20, 2010, I'd be able to copy and paste it here, because I am feeling (almost) exactly the same way I did then. (Then being the day I went back to work after maternity leave with Milo.)

I'm ready. I'm not ready. I'm excited to be back among adults and people who have conversation skills. I'm going to miss my sweet girl so, so much. How can I make it through an entire day without smooching her soft cheeks? How can I stand being away from those dimples? What will I do without her giggle and sweet smile? Those big eyes and toothless grin?

This time is a little different for me. I have more confidence in her care. I have less guilt, because I know I'm a better mom for working. But still... Will she know I'm coming back? Will she miss me? Will she do okay with her schedule thrown off?

In a way, all the car stress of the last week was a good thing, because it kept my mind off my impending return to work. But mostly it was bad, because I didn't get to enjoy my last few days at home. Today's the last day, and I'm trying to make the most of it. Extra snuggles, extra kisses. And I'm trying to cement the image of Olive's big blue eyes looking right at me so I remember these moments forever.

My least favorite part of pregnancy

I'm 17 weeks pregnant. I think I have more belly at this point than I did last time (thank you, abdominals, for never returning post-first pregnancy). I've already gained something like fifteen pounds. And I just hate everything about it.

I wouldn't say I have a very positive body image when not pregnant, but I do occasionally think I look pretty good. But when pregnant, my self-esteem plummets and I basically feel bad about myself the entire time. Longer than the entire time, as I hated my post-baby body for a good six or eight months. Logically I know it's ridiculous to feel fat when pregnant. To look at my belly and genuinely wish it was flatter and less noticeable. To find myself sucking in during the day. And I see already how my hips and thighs and ass seem to be spreading out, and since this is my second time with this, I have the distinct displeasure of knowing what's to come.

With Milo, I gained about 60 pounds during pregnancy. The recommended weight gain is 25-35 pounds. I flew past that in my second trimester, probably. And it took me months and months to lose it. Not fun. I dread gaining that weight again, though of course I hope to not gain quite so much this time. I dread having to lose all that weight again. I hate the feeling that my clothes don't really fit me and that I'm not looking my best.

Add to that occasional nausea (yes, still), extremely dark circles under my eyes, flaky-yet-greasy skin, and generally being completely over-emotional at everything, and I'm a mess. At least I'm not far enough along that strangers on commenting on how huge I am yet. Can't wait for that fun to begin.

A Breakthrough

Yesterday evening I got a call from my trainer, Scott. He said he wasn’t feeling well and would have to cancel our session that night.

And you know what? I felt disappointed.

Never before have I been told that I would no longer be working out as planned and felt anything other than unadulterated joy. But maybe—just maybe—working out regularly for the past five months or so has finally flipped a switch in me. Could it be that I miss exercising when I have to miss exercising? Or does it just make me write confusing sentences?