Our Beautiful Family, or Shots by Kyla Hemmelgarn

In the midst of all the chaos, there have been great, shining moments too.

The girls got together for my baby shower and got me a photo shoot with local professional photographer, Kyla Hemmelgarn. This was the perfect gift, as, being the second baby I had all the gear, and being the second boy baby, I had all the clothes too. Needless to say, hard to shop for.

Well, the results have been stunning. Kyla was sweet and natural, and managed to herd all four of us into complementary angles, with wicked results. I am reserving a couple of photos for later surprises, but here is a taste of what she shot. Check her out.

I love my beautiful family.

And then it all came tumbling down.....

Well, I thought I was doing okay...

That is, until I managed to lose some majorly important documents of Aaron's, right before a majorly important meeting, and thus cause total and utter chaos.

Apparently, I have been trying too hard to be all things to too many people, too soon out of the gate after giving birth. I feel obligated to make sure Big-A has a major activity planned every day, so as to assuage my guilt of having to spend so much time feeding and rocking Little-A right now, so am organizing playdates, activities, and probably more stuff in a day than most two-and-a-half-year olds see in a week.

I am also trying to stay jovial with my husband, keep up with the family, stay in close contact with friends and even revive old friendships with girlfriends who now have kids that are finally of an age to join us at the water park and beach.

The bottom line is that it is all starting to get away from me. The house is a mess of clutter, and I am forgetting things and losing things, which I. NEVER. DO.

Short of calling up the Burnaby recycling depot and crawling through the dumpsters myself, (what a picture!) there is little I can do about the missing documents. I can, however, either let my house or my head go completely to pot in these early days, and let it all get away from me.

Oh, and did I mention I absolutely SUCK at asking for help? That I feel this pathological incessant need to prove myself capable and able to do all the tasks at hand, and not only do them, but do them exceptionally well with aplomb? This lack of vocalization has really gotten me in a heap of trouble...

So for now, I pledge to put my head down all weekend, tidy, organize and de-clutter, and not look up until I either find the docs I lost, or my house and head is a little less wooly.

Sorry, Aaron.

I am so very, very sorry.

Rockin' the Potty and growing up.

We finally did it.

We finally took the leap and started potty-training Big-A. I had been meaning to for a while, but then I got hugely pregnant, then it was too close to the birth, then we had a newborn, and well, I was just running out of excuses at that point.

The truth is, I was rather scared to do it. It seemed so daunting, so huge, so insurmountable.

Turns out, it wasn't so bad. Sure, we employed a few tricks, a lot of carpet cleaner, and a whole bunch of Thomas Tank Engine stickers, but we are now onto day 6 and have had relatively few accidents.

Today, Big-A even took himself to the potty without telling me and successfully navigated his way through a pee with minimal mess. Then he told me about it after - once I tore up the hall and made a mad dash to catch him in time to "pee-pee, Mommy, pee-pee". But, like the big boy he is becoming, he had already gone.

Between the potty training and the big-boy-bed, I have caught a glimpse this week of what lies in store. Not just no more diapers, and distant memories of Big-A's crib, but also of a little baby-no-more, and a boy taking his place.

He talks a mile a minute, holds his own definite opinions, and is developing a very wicked sense of humour. We laugh a lot, and share jokes together in the kitchen.

I love catching glimpses of the person he will become develop in front of me. I got a lot of "They grow up so fast" from other parents, but no one told me babyhood was a nanosecond and toddlerhood was a flash. It sure makes all those sleepless nights easier to bear: I don't have the heart to complain - it is all too precious and fast.

I think I will go snuggle Little-A while he is still tiny, and fits on my forearm.

One day I want to go to Blogher

When I grow up in the blogosphere, I want to go to Blogher. I still feel like such a newbie, and am trying to build up my blogroll to include as many incredible Vancouver-area blogs (or just incredible, influential women writers as possible, but one day, one day, I want to be able to go with the confidence and knowledge of a true new media junkie.

I see that one of my favourite bloggers, MrLady, is one of the speakers - I've mentioned her before, and she is the one that pushes me at the back of my head to be more fearless and find my voice. She is one of the most engaging and truthful writers I have encountered online. She is visceral and way cooler than I will ever be.

I am realizing that this "little blog that could" is starting to satisfy a couple of things for me: 1.)It gives me an outlet from the mommy-brain-rot of staying at home with two kids under three every day all day, and 2.)It fulfills my love of writing, which is something I have always done, but never seriously, and has often fallen by the wayside for travel, family or friends. I've pretty much always kept a journal documenting the major milestones in my life, and this is a new way to attempt to get serious about it. Every writer craves an audience - writing for self-fulfillment is not entirely satisfying. It's just not exhibitionist enough.

So I want big things for this blog. I want to post at least twice a week, develop an audience, (dare I hope for a following?) get some ads, redesign outside of the templates, polish up my SEO, monetize and eventually retire off of the spoils of my writing on the web. Big dreams, I know!!! But everyone starts somewhere, and one day I want to be one of those women at Blogher that is hosting luncheons for newbie bloggers and offering expert tips and advice.

Officially an Overachiever

I am officially an OCD overachiever.

I decided today we would potty train.

And make strawberry jam.

And tend to the cluster-feeding of a four-week old.

And we needed juice. So I headed to the store. Before we left, I asked Big-A if he needed to go potty. I was assured he didn't. We didn't get two blocks before I heard "Mommy, pee-pee!!!" from the back seat. I decided to push on to the IGA and use their bathroom.

I successfully managed our 2.5yr old and newbie into the store, and asked a staff member for the toilet. It was out of service, and I was told to go across the road to the pub. The pub? Really? So we headed over to the pub, me rushing everyone with thoughts of a pants accident, and we burst into the pub with a "It's our first day of potty training and he needs to go and the IGA sent me and their toilet is out of service and can I please please please use yours?" To which the bartender said she understood and waved us in.

We successfully navigated our first public toilet, and headed back to the IGA for the juice required for the strawberry jam.

Back at home, we managed to breastfeed, make lunch, and put out three batches of rather delicious strawberry jam.

Oh yeah, and I moved the computer into the kitchen so I could blog more easily, because I need one more thing to do.

Having babies is a team sport...no, really!

No, really - I am referring to the consummate teamwork it takes to raise two kids, as Aaron and I are finding out. I'm in front of the computer, attempting to carve out five minutes for myself, (oh wait, I have a baby at the breast while I type) and Aaron is putting Big-A to bed upstairs, shortly to crawl into bed to sleep himself as he is working ten hour days right now.

Needless to say, I saw him alone for about five minutes as he came downstairs to say goodnight, and as we joke, we guess we will get more than that together in about two weeks or so, after Little-A turns the magical six-week corner.

I am not complaining, just realizing it takes some pretty major pillars of strength to keep things afloat, jovial, (happy, even!) and with a sense of humour through these early days, weeks and even years. That being said, I wouldn't trade it for the world, and as friends of ours will shortly welcome their third child under five, it reminds me that not only are some people crazier than Aaron and I (we are stopping at two, thank you VERY much!) but that the rewards far outweigh the sleeplessness, diapers, whining, crying, midnight bouncing, bleary swaddling, and grumpiness!

At risk of sounding like too much of a Mary-f**ing-Sunshine, I am still, still, STILL in bliss and so in love with these boys of mine - I sit at night feeding Little-A, looking around our house, listening to my two other boys snore gently, and think that this is really, REALLY where I am meant to be.

Cool.

Two hours at a time

Sometimes you have to take it day by day.

Sometimes you have to take it hour by hour, or in my case every two hours by every two hours.

Little-A is waking every two hours during the night right now, and is hungry as a bear. So I get maybe one to one-and-a-half hours sleep in a stretch, which is why I start going to bed at around 8pm! I actually feel pretty human after having a go at sleeping for twelve hours, and achieving 5-6 total. That is, with my giant cup of coffee too.

For some reason I still feel human. Deliriously happy? Stoned on oxytocin? Possibly both!

Completely blissed out

It's been two weeks, and I am still completely blissed out. Sure, the sleep deprivation is starting to kick in, and Aaron and I stumble through our days somewhat, but I am so completely uplifted by the positive-ness of our second delivery experience, that I don't mind any of it!

Aaron and Mum thought I ought to check out my 'funny' Braxton-Hicks on Monday the 18th - I had been having them all throughout the last month, but never with such breathlessness. I would start talking, and get so winded, it was as if I had just climbed four flights of stairs....so we called the mat. ward, and they said that it was probably just B-H's, but I should come in anyways. Aaron insisted I bring the hospital bag, and I am glad he did!!!! We got to the hospital, and they asked me if I was having contractions- the only contractions I have ever had were Oxytocin-induced, and after unsuccessful attempts at cervidil, (thus very painful) so I said that i had never felt a "real" contraction. I also kind of thought they should hurt, and what I was experiencing didn't. So they hooked me up to the machine, and we got great peaks and valleys on the fetal monitor, and after seeing the OB, she told me I was 2cm dilated, and what did we want to do?

We opted to go for it, and then started calling around to the parents to let them know what was going on, and get me ready for the c-section. We wheeled in to the OR shortly after midnight, and I met the nicest team of people - they had just done another c-section, so had to be rounded up out of the cafeteria to come for me, so it all went very fast- we got going around 12:30am, and Little-A was born just before 1:00am.

He came out screaming, hungry, and very healthy, and was pronounced "perfect" by the attending pediatrician. The hardest part was sitting in post-op, waiting for my legs to un-freeze, and being told by the nurse to "try and get some rest" as I was "going to need it" and it wasn't going to go any faster. (Yeah, right, Lady - I just had a baby I wanted to meet!!!!!)

I finally got down to our room around 3:00am and met the boys - Little-A did indeed come out hungry, as he had spent the last two hours rooting on Daddy's nipple and bicep.

I went into Burnaby General with some trepidation over the size of the hospital, and the fact I knew very little about it - I am pleased to say that it has one of the most community-minded, family-minded hospitals I have ever seen, with a maternity staff that clearly know and love what they are doing.

It was so fantastic, I loved it!!!

We got home, and I am still recovering - the hardest part is not being able to pick up Big-A, and working through finding the balance of spending equal time with both kids, while breastfeeding one of them every two to three hours, but it's nothing unusual, out of the box, nor does it involve teams of specialists at two different hospitals, which I am taking HUGE delight in.

I am so very, very blessed!!!