you will always be my baby

Since the surprising news of baby #2, I have been caught in this conflict;

I have a baby on his way, 

but Cole still feels like my baby.

Which, quite literally, he was. This ball of fire was only 5 months old when we were shocked into a second reality. I remember a conversation with Shane in which I admitted that, to me, Cole was my baby. I felt worried at the thought that his baby-hood would be replaced with his little brother's - that he would get 'jipped' out of my baby love. 

Soon, as this little 5 inch pumpkin began to kick and nudge inside of me, I came to realize that no matter what order children come, each one will always and forever be your baby. That's how you came to know them...that's how your love began. It only grows as they get older, and expands along with their knowledge.

Now that baby Cole is 10 months old, I find myself grateful that I have been able to enjoy everything baby about him - and it seems like before my eyes, this baby that I had 10 months ago is turning into a little boy...

A little boy that will make the perfect big brother,

The perfect playmate,

And a brother that little pumpkin can always count on and look up to.

Yes Cole, you will always be my baby...

but you will also be the best big brother a mom could ever wish for.

I love you...

oh so much.

Putting it all out there.

I wrote this post and then saved it because I didn't feel ready to share. I have moved past my fear of being judged, which is why I have now decided to let others read my words. I hope by doing so, others may realize that they are not alone during their trials!
Pregnancy #2 was not planned. It was not expected. To be honest, it wasn't even accepted into my weary mind for the first week or so. I was dumbfounded...there was no science to back up how this little baby turned up inside of me. I felt scared, I felt lonely. Sadly to say, I even felt a little embarrassed.
I was a little over 5 weeks along when I called Shane at the hospital and asked them to relay the message, "I don't know whether to cry, or to laugh". He knew exactly what I meant.
A few weeks after delivering Cole, my mind took over and wrenched me to places that I vowed I would never go. I remember trying to convince myself that I wasn't one of "those" people...that I wasn't one to suffer with postpartum depression. It came on gradually, but it felt so sudden. I loved, LOVED my baby, but I was overwhelmed with new, daunting tasks - like breastfeeding and trying to keep my house clean. When Cole would be up for hours and hours in the middle of the night with no relief during the day, I became overly exhausted, and I questioned my Father in Heaven for allowing me to be a mother. Often times I prayed and plead that we could rewind and let Cole, my sweet miracle baby, to be sent to a better mother...a mother who could take him to the store or walk him around outside without having a mental breakdown. A mother who could put everything else aside to tend to the needs of this little one who required so much patience and love. I remember at my 6 week postpartum appointment, feeling desperate for the nurse or doctor to notice that I didn't seem like myself, so that I could have some excuse to ask for help. To my dismay, both happily noted that I seemed to be "so on top of motherhood" and that I "radiated happiness" for this new life I was given. I sunk. I was speechless. What was I to say? I was already embarrassed and confused as it was...I wasn't going to stop them and tell them that they were incredibly wrong.
Eventually, I stopped praying. I couldn't find relief, and I had dismissed any thought of seeking for hope. My faith was gone, and my heart only stayed beating for that sweet baby...that little angel that filled my home with his little spirit.
After a few months of all of us suffering, Shane and I decided that it would be worth going completely broke so that I could get help. Therapy sessions and medication would have taken every spare penny, plus much of our savings. It needed to happen. That same week found me staring down at a bold, positive pregnancy test, for the second time in my life.
My initial reaction was to laugh. That laughter very quickly turned to tears, and tears, and more tears. I literally wept two whole nights away without sleep. My doctor had told me that I needed to see this second baby as another miracle, because there literally was no explanation as to how I could have conceived. I knew it was impossible, but I sure didn't see the miracle part of it all.
Then it hit me. This was a miracle.
Pregnancy, for some odd reason or another, had wiped away my anxiety and depression the first time around. I didn't want to be medicated during pregnancy, but was afraid to not be. After only a few short weeks of weaning from my medication, I felt perfectly fine. I felt normal, I felt happy, I felt content! Now that #2 was on his way, I realized that my Heavenly Father truly was looking out for me. He knew my desperation, and he also knew how to fix it. How blessed I feel that my mentality has had the same outcome with this pregnancy as it did the first...how grateful I feel that I could be trusted again with another miracle. This time around, we will know what to expect after I deliver, and I will have help aligned BEFORE anything could possibly go awry.
Shane and I couldn't be happier for this new spirit to enter into our home. He was the miracle I had been praying for all that time. I can hardly wait to see my two boys, causing incredible mischief and driving me crazy...it brings me to joyous tears thinking of the bond those two will share.
I am blessed, beyond measure.

what happened?

Whatever happened with me blogging?
Maybe it's the fact that I can't figure out how to post pictures anymore...
Or the fact that instagram is so incredibly easy.
Or maybe it's caused by the rapid decline in readers? I must ask, does ANYONE read blogs anymore? Does anyone read THIS blog anymore?
Either way, I should be updating.
Having a baby makes life move in both slow-motion and super-speed at the same time. Most days, I look at my seasoned sitter, 1/4 of a cheerio eater (he is a tad slow on the chewing part of being a baby), sitting up in the big boy tub of a baby and I wonder...
Where in the world did my baby go?
Once Cole hit 6 months I felt like my life was back; I felt like I could really experience the true joy of being a parent. I loved that he and I could interact, that he would babble to himself all day and laugh because I'd make a silly face. I cherished the moments of he in the high chair, and me at the table, eating at the SAME time...
7 months was even better. That sweet boy just grew and grew...not necessarily in size, but he was soaking everything up like a sponge! He would imitate me, and started growling like a lion - even on command! He began trying to un-buckle his car seat, and hasn't stopped trying since (luckily without success). Shane went off to another week of scout camp, just in time for me to get the flu and run a week's worth of two ballet workshops. Amazingly, we survived. Barely.
Now here we are...8 months into witnessing my little baby grow up too quickly. Although he can't crawl yet, Cole still seems to know how to get into everything and I find myself constantly laughing at what things he has discovered to play with. I love his adventurous personality. I adore the happiness he carries with him. I live for his dimpled smile.
One day, someday, this little fireball will let me hold him tight. Someday he will let me snuggle him, read him stories, and sing him lullabies. That still seems to be the only thing that I wish and hope for the opportunity to experience. Someday.
But for today, I'm going to try my hardest to be the best mom that this little boy deserves. I'm going to take him outside so he can pick more grass, and pull off more leaves off the tree. Drive him around town so he can enjoy the view of trying to un-buckle that seatbelt of his. Help him walk from one end of the house to the other, and praise him for trying so hard to learn and grow. I will help him hold the hairbrush and brush his hair just to make him laugh. I will kiss him endlessly and tell him a million times how much I love him...
because I do. I simply can't get enough.

It's been a DAY

It's been a day.
You know, one of those days.

The kind where you can't figure out how to get all the adorable pictures of your baby off of your phone and onto the computer.

The kind where you leave your wallet in the car that your husband decided to take to work...the car that you always drive because it's your car, and the car that the baby's carseat base is in. Yes, I am feeling lazy...so the carseat base is a beautiful thing. You never worry about him taking your car, because he always ALWAYS takes frontrunner to work anyway.

The kind where you have to stop at the bank and actually go inside to beg them to give you some money without I.D. because you have to buy groceries...one of those groceries being one gallon of milk that you've been asked to provide for the family cabin trip that begins tonight.

The kind where you get back into your husbands car and realize that the gas light has been on, for who knows how long. You only have enough money to buy your groceries, not gas for the car.

The kind where you try to grocery shop as quickly as you can because your baby is fussing the entire time and it feels like everyone's eyes are burning holes through your body because of it. The kind where you don't know what to do, because normally your baby is so sweet through grocery shopping!

The kind where you end up seeing everyone you know, despite the fact that you really don't have the time, or the senses to be visiting with anyone right now (cue crying baby with spit up all over him, and fibbing comments of "oh he's so......cute......?").

The kind where you finally make it back to the big, tall car (your husbands car, without the carseat base), get the baby all buckled in, and realize that you're 200 yards away from any grocery cart return. It is so bloody hot that you are now required to un-buckle your crying, sad, tired, messy baby and carry him with you as you return your cart. Then repeat the process to get him back into the big, tall car.

The kind where you begin to take the groceries out of the big, tall car, and the one gallon of milk falls out. The bottom of the jug busts completely open, spraying its contents all over you, the car, the baby, the barking dog, the porch, the driveway, and the road.

The kind where you pull the dirty hose out of the garage to clean up the smelly milk mess, and now you're a smelly, milky, dirty, watery mess, and so is your dog and your baby.

The kind where you wish you hadn't checked the mail (I should place a "return to sender" stamp on all of those insane medical bills...).

The kind where, no matter how awful the days events have been, you still try your hardest to see the glass half full.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

the tour

{pardon the blurry-ness of these pictures. Blame the phone-computer connection. boo.)

Oh did I have DREAMS of how to put Cole's nursery together! There were so many colors, patterns, and accessories to choose from...it was like 9 solid months of tearing my hair out. 

It began with us wanting to finish the basement, so everything that was going to go down there had to be stored in Cole's bedroom for a few months. Just look at the mess. There was nothing, I repeat, NOTHING I could do to organize this better. Not a day went by when I wouldn't cry over how messy this room looked. Wasn't it supposed to be my baby's room? Come on now. 

Anyway...

We still got moving on picking out furniture and accessories for the baby's room. Shane and I found this super cute and sturdy dresser at a yard sale fundraiser for $25. If you don't remember how incredibly and unbelievably awful this dresser was to re-do, I am not going to repeat the story. It's too painful to resurface into my memory.

To make the story short, after 6 attempts at sanding and repainting the beautiful beast and getting off-spray all over my parent's car and newly refinished garage floor at the end of the summer and pregnant, it turned out just fine.

There.

I had my heart set on this adorable and simple khaki and white bedding from Land of Nod. However, just for the crib skirt, 1 sheet, and blanket, it would have cost $145.

ONE HUNDRED FORTY FIVE DOLLARS...

for sheets and a blanket that would get spit up on, blown out on, and worn out within a few short years. I just couldn't do it! Shane and I decided that we'd rather put the extra money into a savings account for the little guy than spend it on bedding that he would never even care about.

So, every week I would check TJMaxx, Marshalls, and Home Goods for some deals on bedding. Each week I found the same 101 Dalmatian set that I also just couldn't buy (for obvious reasons...).

Luckily, while on vacation in Newport Beach, my sister in law spotted this adorable bedding! It was from Marshalls, and came with the embroidered skirt, bumpers, duvet cover with comforter, and 1 sheet. It was so well made, and cost $40.

FORTY DOLLARS!!

We were more than thrilled.

 I then purchased two framed canvases that after the sale price and a coupon, came to $3.50 a piece. I asked my 8 year old niece, Anna, if she would paint on them for Cole's room. I didn't tell her any specifics of what I was looking for, because I wanted her to use her imagination. I couldn't have hand picked anything better to hang on my little boy's wall! The picture on the left has a snake, chameleon, lizard, and monkey, and the picture on the right has a frog.

They are PERFECT for his room!

 We were so blessed from our parents too...my parents purchased our crib, and Shane's parents bought us the glider and ottoman.

On the wall behind where I am standing is a sepia toned picture of Christ holding a baby and they are both smiling. Shane gave it to me for mother's day because we had agreed that we always wanted Cole to see Jesus Christ the way we all picture him to be...joyous, and full of love.

Cole's room turned out completely differently than I had planned, but I wouldn't want it any other way! After all, it is HIS room, not mine, right?

It should be exactly the way HE would want it...reptiles and all!

a day in the life of a 5 month old

I like to wake up right as the sun comes over the mountains (or sometimes a little bit before...). Mom always says, "if you miss the sunrise you miss the day!" sometimes I wonder if she really means it, because she seems so tired when she comes in to get me. I give her my best smile and giggle as she helps me sit up.

Then we go snuggle in her bed...

She sometimes brings toys for me to play with,

but most of the time we play with each other. Mom makes funny faces at me and it makes me laugh and laugh!

Duke and Dundee never seem ready to wake up...but they'll be up soon.

I get to lie down in my favorite spot while mama gets my bath ready. I love to look out at the trees and hear the birds through my window. I also like to grab at my blinds and shake them as hard as I can! Mom sometimes seems upset when I do this, but most of the time she smiles and laughs.

I laugh back.

When mom brings me in for bathtime, Duke and Dundee quickly jump off of the bed to be with us. I like to grab their fur and watch them walk around. I LOVE my animals, even though they make the bathroom really crowded!

After I've splashed all of the walls in the bathroom with water, mom pulls me out and wraps me in a towel. I like to roll over to my side and put the towel in my mouth right as she puts it around me!

I get lotioned up and go back to my changing pad to practice grabbing my toes. It is so much harder than most babies make it look...I must have gotten both my mom AND my dad's non-flexible genes.

Then it's time to decide what to spend my money on...I get a monthly budget of $10, but mom and dad always make me put it in my savings account! Soon they'll realize that I've got big plans with that allowance...have you checked out the toy section at Target recently?!

I mean, seriously.

I sit in mama's lap while she responds to emails, works on church lessons, downloads pictures, and works on the blog. I think blogging is a source of stress for her...but I can tell that she really loves it in the end!

 Yum! Time to try some solids. I'm improving my skills, you know...I'm just working on focusing my eyes a little better.  Those spoons are just so huge!

Ah, time to take a break and practice being cute. Mama thinks that I have mastered that talent, but I remind her that we aren't all perfect.

I love to spend time outside to watch the sky and my doggy play fetch. I wear myself out laughing at Dundee while he barks!

Mom very, very gently takes me inside to put me in my crib. 

She finally buckled down and made this sign for the door so that Dundee wouldn't bark and wake me up. 

I try to tell her that he's only trying to protect my castle, but she tells me that sleeping is just as important.

Twenty minutes later, I'm awake! Those cat naps are so refreshing.

I go back to my changing pad (which has a different blanket on it now...I spit up on my outfit and the other cover, so they're in the wash).

I practice grabbing my toes again...

While mommy finds me a new outfit.

On some days, we get in the car to go somewhere, like Aunt Brookie's house.

Mom and Aunt Brooke go for a walk, while I rest in the stroller.

 Daddy is home from work! He says it is important for me to practice standing.

 But I don't like to do that for very long...

I'd rather sit on his lap!

I ask him if we can roast s'mores. Sometimes he says yes!

 We play,

And then it's time for another bath.

 While I am in the bath, this is what my family does.

 Mommy feeds me a bottle, while I wiggle out of her arms.

There...I've found the perfect position.

 Mama knows I'm really asleep when I pucker my lips just like this.

I can never tell if I am awake or dreaming, but I feel like I can hear her singing my favorite lullabies. I feel like I can hear her talking to Heavenly Father about how much she loves me. 

And she does.

I can feel it in my heart!

teething: a tough and never-ending job

It goes something like this:

My teeth hurt so much that I scream and scream and mom tries so hard to get me to calm down but I just can't! Eventually, in desperation, she sets me in my chair with a handful of toys. Within two minutes I am asleep.

Then I wake up and I chew on anything that I can. Most of the time it ends up being my bib or burp cloth. Mom always cringes when I chew on these...the thought of me biting into cotton makes her feel weird.

Ah! Daddy is home! I can play for a minute to get my mind off of these sore gums.

But not for long.

I try again to fall asleep but I can't! So mama holds me, and walks me, and rocks me, and the whole time I squirm and grunt because I just don't like to be held. This time, mama found the perfect position for me to fall asleep in. One leg on the chair, one leg off.

 Soon I am up again and I join mom while she fixes dinner.  This time she was making sandwiches and I begged her for the ham container. It didn't feel as good as I was expecting.

 Then I wanted the butter knife. Oh boy did I want that shiny thing! Mom wouldn't let me have it, so we compromised on a spatula. I liked the spatula.

After dinner it is time for bed. I take a bath. I eat. It hurts. I cry. I chew on my bib. Mom cringes. I try desperately to wiggle out of her arms. She puts me in my crib.

Somehow, I fall asleep.

Until midnight.

And 2:00 am.

And 3:00-5:00 am.

Then we start all over at 6:30.

anyone have a burp cloth for me to chew on?