Building a Nest

More Summer Fun

2011-11-30T20:18:00.000-08:00

Tea Party with Grandpa

2011-11-30T20:16:00.000-08:00

Birthday Party

2011-11-17T18:46:00.000-08:00

We had Stella's 2nd birthday party at the pool at our neighborhood "Y". Some of her special friends and cousins were able to make it, though we were missing 5 cousins this year (my brother has 5 boys!). Erik's dad was even able to join us from Louisiana (in the orange shirt). He helped us sooooo much, right in the midst of me being miserable with morning sickness. Thank you, Grandpa!

Cousin David is so sweet with her.

Happy Birthday, Sunflower.

2nd Birthday

2011-11-17T17:50:00.000-08:00

Stella's 2nd birthday was in July. The following pics are from her birthday morning.

Our big girl. We love you.

First Ballgame

2011-11-15T11:47:00.000-08:00

Daddy is a huge baseball fan. Since we don't have a major league team here, we support our minor league team (where they have a playground and a pool!). Our friends joined us later, but we got in some good Daddy/Stella moments.

We love you, Daddy (and baseball, too :)

Summer Concert

2011-11-14T18:54:00.000-08:00

We went to an outdoor concert with friends (one of the million in Austin every summer and all year long).

Such a sweet and wonderful age.

Summer Catch-up

2011-11-14T17:10:00.000-08:00

We love to dig in the dirt in the backyard....

...naked, of course.

And it's so nice to cuddle in bed after a warm bath.

Quick Halloween Post

2011-11-14T13:56:00.000-08:00

I have clearly failed at keeping my blog up to date. The biggest update is probably that I'm 6 months pregnant...

Our little girl is growing up. I can barely stand to look at pictures from the past 6 months - it just happens too fast. I wanted to post a few recent ones for those patient souls in my life that have been begging to see pictures (thanks for waiting).

She was a giraffe for Halloween.

Couple More from Easter

2011-07-12T19:08:00.000-07:00

I forgot a few Easter pictures from my Dad's house (the other ones were from another family gathering).

With Grandpa


Belly shot (my dad's backyard is total Texas Hill Country)

Sweet girl.

She cleaned up.

Easter Catch Up

2011-07-12T18:45:00.000-07:00

So I'm obviously having trouble keeping up with my blog. Different reasons every day. But mostly it's because I spend about 30 mins a day on the computer, and this falls at the bottom of the list...

Here are some of my favorite shots from Easter:

This is at home before we went to see family.

With a few of the cousins (we were with 9 of them).

Such a sweet age. I simply cannot believe how fast it goes by.

Little Miracles

2011-05-14T06:29:00.000-07:00

(Something happened to Blogger and this post was lost. Posting again - sorry for the repeat)

Spring is wrapping up and 90-degree weather has returned to Austin. The daily smell of sunscreen and baby sweat take me back to when Stella began to walk, around her first birthday last summer. I cry at the drop of a hat these days over the little things that are so precious to me right now: the way she sings Rock-a-bye Baby, the way she refers to herself in the third person, the marathon nursing sessions that ensue several times a day and all night. I almost go into shock when I realize it will end. I breathe literal sighs of relief that I made the choice to be close to her all day and all night.

There are some moments in my past that I look upon and tremble when I think about how close I came to "blowing it". How close I came to taking a turn that would have taken me drastically far from this place. Most of the time I am overly aware of how insignificant my little daily things and decisions can seem in the "big picture". How some of the things over which we lament can be so quickly forgotten or unimportant in the grand scheme of things. But then I remember how each of these little things has led me to this very X upon which I stand. Here. My life that I made. My home. I could never envision such an existence before (who could), not that my life is so interesting. But motherhood is my joyride. I have quieted the all-too surrounding drama and busyness that used to be my everyday, and now peace has become my sanctity, my church.

Losing my mother made time stop. Having a baby made time stop. Even though she keeps growing and the seasons and people change around me, I feel that I have finally stopped long enough to love this place. To love my family. To love myself. I am entertained to drink hot tea with my family at night on a warm evening on the screened-in porch, to garden every morning - child by my side. I am all too aware of how time and circumstances can swallow these moments up and then they're gone forever. I'm guarding the quiet with my life. I'm blocking drama with a shield. It's waiting and threatening to swallow up the memories I want to make. But I'm fighting. Quietly.

Having little guidance as a young person can often take you in one of two directions. But providing your own child with the stability, patience and love that was lacking in your own life can both erase and encapsulate the pain of a lost childhood. Strange how that is. Strange how raising and protecting her (in the way that was a mystery to me as a child) can bring up constant turmoil in my body and mind. It brings me so much joy to parent her (in this way) and so much pain, too. A few days ago, I found my brain suddenly fixated on a memory of my childhood that I didn't even know I had - I have so very few memories of it. Clear as day, I could see the bedroom set and bedding in my bedroom from when I was probably around 7...? A house we couldn't afford. A house we didn't live in long. A house we lost when my brother and I had a nearly fatal car accident and had no insurance. We lost a lot that we never really had in the first place. But even more so, my parents' marriage ended after that. The scars on my face from the accident are reminders of it all.

But I digress.

The white canopy bed so innocently sitting, waiting for a girl equally innocent - not a girl growing up too fast. Two matching night stands and a dresser. A small make-up table. A dry-erase board for playing "school" and "teacher". I have no memory of playing or being played with in that room. But the sheets - I remember those beautiful linens, a proud purchase of my mother's, I'm sure. I just did this myself - indulged in buying pretty bedding for my daughter in case it's my last chance to ever do it again (for a baby girl or otherwise). And so as I had this memory, I began channeling my young mother shopping wherever she must have gone to get these sheets during this funny time in the 80's (a major recession, an oil boom, a failing marriage, the Texas plains). Did she obsess the way I recently did over if they would match the curtains? Or if they were "baby" enough? Girl enough?

I never thought I would spend such time on something like this when there are so many other things...but suddenly it was important. And suddenly I knew why. Yes, it's a reach back into my childhood that I'm possibly trying to achieve for myself. Or perhaps I'm trying to recreate something for my daughter that I remember as being positive. Maybe those things. But mostly, because I am her. Because I am my mother in so many ways. When did this happen? When wasn't it happening is probably the more relevant question. Time and again I've mulled over my daughter's room decor since her birth (instead of just buying what I like) because of money. So I thought.

And so one purchase at a time, slowly but surely, my daughter has a sweet girly space that we play in...together. One that makes me feel complete in a strange way. One that made me realize, yet again, that my mother did things that I would never understand or remember until I was a mother. Does she sleep in there? No. Will she ever? Who even knows. But maybe she'll remember more than just the sheets.

Valentine's Day Catch-up

2011-04-03T18:50:00.000-07:00

I am a hopeless romantic when it comes to "Hallmark" holidays. I sometimes resent that they have this reputation because I see some of these holidays as a cultural phenomenon that isn't necessarily rooted in consumerism. Yes, there are some stereotypical expectations that seem to accompany some of these holidays, expectations that sometimes steal the focus. But in this "new" day in America where we often even forget to eat, it seems necessary to dedicate an entire day to remember your mother, or to be romantic. I like that many people have rebelled against the consumer part of it and declare their own traditions (that's almost typically American in and of itself). But as unconventional as I claim to be in some parts of my life, Valentine's Day is one place where I am straight-up textbook. I love flowers, surprises and chocolates. And now that my daughter is with us, I like to romance her, too (romancing my man goes without saying).

We had a fun fondue dinner at home.

She got a sweet little apron for her long afternoons spent in the kitchen with Mommy.

And we ended her second Valentine's Day as intimately as possible.

DC Trip Part Two - DC

2011-03-15T21:32:00.003-07:00

Someone I know loves vacation...

Somebody besides me, that is.

I think this is the longest she's ever stayed in one place - at least 3 whole mins.

On to see our good friends - we miss them dearly. Jason is her buddy (and Erik's best friend of 17 years).

Elizabeth has become Stella's best friend (Jason's wife - we went to high school with these guys!).

Elizabeth began knitting recently and is doing a knockout job!

Glorious mornings at the hotel.

Fabulous bedhead.

Elizabeth spent much time in our room playing.

Daddy and Brock take Stella to breakfast at a favorite old haunt.

And they go to the Air and Space Museum.

The view from our room - our old neighborhood...sigh.

I'm always trying to get some sugars out of this girl.

Stella was actually sick for our entire trip back east. This is naked fever-fighting.

And this is post Tylenol.

Beth and Brock come by the hotel for a visit. We miss them in ridiculous amounts.

I got my fill of to-go coffee. That's something I miss most about living there - walking outside and grabbing a cup of coffee for a stroll. Liz brought me one nearly everyday, bless her heart.

Coffee before going to brunch, a must.

Playing with salt, pepper and sugar packets at brunch, a must.

What a beautiful couple!

And a great auntie!

And the best daddy.

And a crappy Bloody Mary! But who cares - we're at brunch!

Moving on to the farmers market where I used to spend every single Sunday morning for years and years.

And then onto "the Circle" (the fountain in Dupont Circle) to baby-chase.

Stella ADORES Beth and Brock.

Like I said, someone I know loves vacation. And great friends.

DC Trip Part I - Cumberland

2011-03-15T21:32:00.001-07:00

We went back east for a long visit and for Erik's work. His dad's side is from western Maryland, an intensely beautiful part of this country. The town (Cumberland...actually, Rawlings) is where they live. It's small town/country-living where the neighbors are few and far between and the land is vast. The family all lives within miles of each other making it a pretty tight-knit bunch. Grandma's house has always been center stage where it's typical for people to come and go all the time. One of Erik's uncles (and his wife and kids) now lives with Grandma - he's the one closest to us in age (his small children are Erik's cousins).

Erik with Uncle Robin

Aunt Paula (Robin's wife) and their oldest, Max.

Stella adores these kids.

And they adore her.

They so gently helped her with her Christmas presents.

Max read to Stella a lot.

And then it snowed! A lot...

Snow day! We spent it mostly in our jammies...

...warming up by the fire...

And then it was time to plow...

And go out and play.

Someone let Daddy out of jail for awhile to enjoy the snow.

Mommy shows Stella the phenomenon of actually eating the snow.

We take turns.

Uncle Robin takes his boys sledding.

Many songs about Frosty are sung...again...

...and again. "Oh", Stella thinks, "THAT'S a snowman."

Cousin Andrew braves the snow to come over and give us a late-night personal concert.

There continue to be several snow days full of blocks...

Ping pong with Grandma (and everyone else)...

And much reading.

Grandma decides it's time to drink a bottle of wine that Erik's parents bought when he was an infant for him to drink on his 21rst birthday. No matter that he's in his thirties now - what the hell? So we do it over Skype with his parents (who live in different states...with different partners). Cheers!

Someone is busted in the refrigerator thinking we are distracted with our "vintage" wine.

Max and Moss kindly let her "help" them on the computer.

And they read.

For some reason, many bites and scratches are just not enough.

Cousin Julie takes time out of her busy young life to visit, too.

As does her dad, Uncle Jamie (he is also Andrew's father, the kid playing guitar above).

Linda (Jamie's wife) has come to see the small person that wears big clothes.

I love the family tree on the wall behind me. It's amazing to officially be part of it given that I used to observe it as "Erik's girlfriend" years before.

We miss seeing this side of the family on a more regular basis like we did when we were in DC. But we are so lucky to be able to travel to them. And I am so lucky to be part of them.

The Past Months Developmentally

2011-02-28T20:12:00.000-08:00

Her 18-month advancements were downright shocking to me - tackling 3-syllable words and 3-word sentences - I'm forcing myself to write this down so that I don't forget the wonderment of this time in our lives. I often think there is no way I can forget the amazing things she does or how old she was when she did them, but I do.

At 18 months
It seems like she started forming sentences overnight. As my neighbor reminds me (a father of two grown girls), she's been working on this stuff for a long time. But it's like she does it once and then forever. For instance, she said "applesauce" one day out of the blue, and that was it - she knew how to say it from then on. And not long after that, we were in the store and I sneezed and she said, Bless you...Mama. A sentence. And even more shocking to me is that she does these things unprompted. Another example, I usually bring something to her and will remind her to say thank you. But then one day I brought something to her and didn't ask, and as I walked away she said, Thank you...Mama. The best is when she thanks herself for doing something for her dolls. Thank you...Steya (how she pronounces "Stella"). And not too long ago I was mopping around her, and she shouted, Watch out, Stella!

Something I must remember about this stage is how she would yell these things out in her sleep as she struggled to learn and digest them. When she first started learning 3 syllables, she would scream out, Other side! Which meant the other boob. And then she started to yell out, Applesauce! She literally bolts up in her sleep and yells these things while fully asleep. It's just like when they're learning to crawl and walk, and they imitate it in their sleep - I've never seen such craziness! Little people are so fun and fascinating.

Now a couple of months later, she can say to me, Sock back on, Mama (as in, Put your sock on). Other cute phrases to mark this point include, Mama, sit down! Mama, hold you (as in, Pick me up). She has finally figured out the difference between "hi" and "high". Once upon a time if you had said, "Up high", Stella would wave "hi" to you. She has also figured out that only one playground in Austin is called Central Market (not all of them). We would pass playgrounds and she would say, Market?

For me, every accomplishment of hers is accompanied by pure joy, and then followed by immediate sadness because I'm losing the baby part of my baby. She is growing faster than I can cope. I've always loved how we could talk to each other without language, but now there are so many words. I, of course, love it but it's oh so bittersweet.

Things she likes most: her babies (LOVES them), kitties, chickens, pretend driving, playgrounds, gardening, playing in the water and with ice, cooking in her little kitchen for all of us, washing/cleaning anything, bathtime, playing in the backyard. Her babies are an entirely separate category. She loves to dress, feed, nurse and bathe them, sing to them and other things. And she loves people. So much. I love that she loves people.

Oh, I can't forget to mention (for myself) that she has also developed fears that she never had before. I think it's normal and common for this age, but it can be sad (and sometimes frustrating) when it comes out of the blue. She calls things that move (like leaves in the wind), "bees". If it's moving and it scares her, she'll say, Bee? Bee? Also, she now regularly completely loses it when we approach the check-out line at the market (started a few weeks ago). And now, she won't even get in the cart - scares the crap out of her. I am at a complete loss. There was no incident that prompted any of this - it just happened one day. Kind of like her talking happened. Overnight. Funny girl.

Final Christmas Post

2011-02-22T12:18:00.001-08:00

And here is the last of it...

Christmas Eve morning - we are at the birthday party and forgetting about Santa for awhile. Xhulian (pronounced "Julian" - it's an Albanian spelling) plays happily at my sister's house.

Stella struggles with her baby (also at my sister's).

Back at our house Xheson (pronounced "Jason") cuddles with Stella). These boys are her uncles...because they are Erik's younger brothers (children of Erik's dad and his wife). They all just moved here from Italy...it's kind of a long story.

The Christmas Eve FROM SCRATCH gingerbread house-making tradition is begun.

Nobody wants to go to bed because Santa is coming.

And so we read, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas...", and before we knew it...

...Christmas morning was here.

Santa was so good to us.

Stella loved the picture that Xheson painted for Erik.

She gets a little stovetop espresso maker so she can be just like Daddy in the morning.

And this was from the Big Man himself, left under the tree unwrapped.

Time for stockings.

Let's go play with all of our new cool stuff.

As Stella would say (when she hasn't voluntarily plugged herself up), Aawshum (as in, Awesome).

Time to get dressed for Christmas Day guests and dinner!

The men wait for the meal...

Stella sets the table.

Christmas night has come.

And we greet Christmas night with full bellies...

...lots of mulled wine...

...and lots of love.

Merry Christmas, Baby.

X-mas Catch-up Continued

2011-02-22T11:30:00.001-08:00

We had some nice warm days before Christmas and the big freezes (and snow...in Austin!).

Grandpa (my dad) joins us for caroling at the capital, and the lighting of the Texas capital building and Congress Ave.

We try to go every year.

Messin' around the house before Christmas.

Homemade hot chocolate can NEVER be wasted.

The tree is a total wonder this year.

Grandpa Ralph (my late mother's husband) comes for a visit and brings a rocking horse!

Boy does she love Grandpa.

Clothing optional Christmas fun.

We try out our new rule: "You can touch with one finger..." Too bad it only works when we're looking at her...

Playing in Stella's room.

Uncooperative typewriters...hate 'em.

Making Christmas cookie dough and fudge and dough and fudge and dough...

I so love it all. But I'm glad it's over.

Pre-Xmas Catch-up

2011-02-09T10:55:00.000-08:00

I spent hours uploading pictures and writing captions only to have Blogger not save it everytime I got up to nurse... Here's what it saved, and out of frustration, I'll start another post for the rest.

Some pics from the days before Christmas...

We do an early Christmas with one of my sisters (and her husband and four kids). Cousin Angela is glad we are distracted with getting everyone to smile so that she can sneak her gift in...

The oldest of my sister's kids has a birthday on Christmas Eve. Pretty much no matter what, the family gets together on the morning of Christmas Eve to have cake and forget about X-mas chaos for awhile. You can see Stella peaking around the cake with her cousins.

And since we had Erik's family in town this year, we brought them along for the chaos!

Xheson thought it was Heaven.

And I think Grandpa even had fun...

Thanksgiving

2011-01-06T18:47:00.000-08:00

Warning: Lots of pictures!

We went to Escondido and San Diego to visit Erik's mama for Thanksgiving. We spent several days at a resort in Escondido (where we did the holiday) and then went back to Nana's house (pictures are totally out of order...).

One morning we let Nana sleep in while we went to breakfast...

This was across the street...wow.

One evening we went to the pier

Can you believe this park?!?!

And the resort in Escondido...ahhhhh... These are views from Erik's golf game.

This was by our room

The view from our porch...what more could you want?

Except for maybe a new doll!

Gathering for the holiday - Erik's grandma (on the right)

And Grandpa (and Stella's Nana :)

Everyone's hungry

The chef (Kim, Nana's husband)!

Nursing by the outdoor fireplace after a long day

Time to go to Nana's real house

Nana and Grandpa Kim watched Stella while we went on a date...

Beautiful gardens on a high cliff over the ocean

Beer and fish 'n' chips on the beach

A much needed date!

Stella was literally an angel while we were gone.

Mama even got to shop while Nana and Stella played...

The best shopping trip she's ever been on, and a most memorable Thanksgiving!

Visit with Nana

2010-10-12T09:35:00.001-07:00

How do people do it? My friends with two-plus kids manage to post pictures to their blogs somewhat regularly, but needless to say...I have struggled. When I have a rare free moment to myself, I rarely think of my blog as a priority when I am surrounded by disgusted dishes, or produce that somehow needs to be made into dinner, or bits and pieces of god know what on the floor. But I will keep trying.

I started the rest of this post in early November after Nana's (Erik's mom) wonderful visit. I never finished it but here it is anyway!

Regaining Access

2010-09-27T18:46:00.000-07:00

Our main computer with all of our videos and photos died sometime back, so I haven't been able to access pictures in a long while. But Erik's getting things set up with the new computer he put together, though I still have to wait on video... Just wanted to share a couple of photos to show how my Little One is shaping up.

More soon!

Without Language

2010-08-26T09:33:00.000-07:00

I love that our daughter communicates with us in her own baby way, (mostly) without the English language. While I'm going through the day, I don't realize it. But sometimes when I'm reflecting on things at night, I think about how the entire day is filled with guessing about what she wants or needs. I am so tightly holding onto these moments of her searching my eyes for understanding as she grunts or yells or smiles while tugging at my skirt. And I search her eyes for approval as I ask, More? Bite? Want down? Outside? Shoes hurt? Mama hold you? Change your diaper? Stella do it?

I love that we have not yet hit that stage where her frustration will turn into a tantrum. Right now, she'll just throw her head back and cry or she'll fuss at me. But she never throws anything, she doesn't throw her body on the ground and scream, and she rarely hurts me on purpose (though she tests it sometimes). These worse days are so close I can see their shadow. But for now, I'm locked in this moment of sweet baby translations.

Erik and I laugh in amazement when she understands something we didn't realize she knew. It really is incredible the way babies pick things up so fast. I told her one time, Walk backwards. And she did it. I feel like she understands almost everything I say. And when Daddy and I talk in front of her, it feels like she's just soaking up the words, dropping them in her mental honey jar one by one. I love the way her eyes dart around the room when I ask her if she wants to go to the farm and play with the chickens, as if she's going to spot one right there in our living room.

And now she nods her head "yes". It's this development that has made me realize that the true baby stage is nearing it's end. I think as mothers we experience this pain so that we'll keep having children. But funny how it does the opposite for me sometimes. Often I want nothing - especially pregnancy - to interrupt this precious time I have with her. Sometimes I have to remind my incredibly sleep-deprived self to be in the moment. But most of the time, I cannot escape the overwhelmingly sad thought that these precious days are numbered.

Like every stage has, this stage will turn into another that I will fight to keep close to my heart. But for now, I rush nothing. I hold her as close to my body as often as she'll let me, and even closer to my deep, deep soul.

Boy, Was That Fun.

2010-07-15T19:31:00.000-07:00

We had fried chicken, biscuits and honey, locally-grown corn on the cob and pink lemonade (compliments of my sister's business, LaLa's Lemonade). Oh, and over 40 people.

Our friend, Jenna Vincent, took the most amazing photos. Oh Jenna - I can't tell you what it means to us.

Something to look forward to. Every year.

I'm One...

2010-07-07T18:35:00.001-07:00

Hi - Cathey Estelle here. I only really get to talk to Mama and Daddy, so I thought I'd sneak onto my Mama's blog to see who all these "friends" are of hers...

So, I'm kinda new at the birthday-thing, but I'm pretty sure that my first birthday sucked. Mama had promised that we'd go swimming, but then they took our only car to the shop (which I don't understand, cuz Mama takes it shoppin' every day - I don't see why this is any different). So that meant we had to stay in our crummy house all day, playin' with the same old stuff that makes Mama crazy as I drag it all over the house.

On top of bein' stuck in the house all day, my eighth tooth is taking like 565 days to actually come in, and it was REALLY bothering me today. So I pretty much just screamed and clawed at Mama all day except when we were jumpin' around on the bed or she was chasin' me through the house. Those are really the only things that make me forget about the pain. I can't even sleep through it. As soon as my big head hits Mama's chest I'm practically up and awake again. Mama just grumbles under her breath as she switches me from boob to boob because I'm even in too much pain to nurse. Too bad I hate pretty much everything else she feeds me - mostly I just throw it all on the floor. Unless it's Cheerios (the fake wheat-free kind) - now THOSE I could just eat all day long.

I could tell that my fussiness was startin' to get to Mama because she was tryin' to do all this stuff for my birthday (like wrap presents and make somethin' called a cake), but I kept trying to get in there and help her. So then she just kept movin' stuff up high, but that just made me do other stuff, like climb. I heard her tell my Daddy that she didn't get one iota of sleep last night, "NOT ONE!", which would explain why she basically just started laughin' out loud and couldn't stop, when absolutely nothin' funny had happened. She must have seen somethin' I didn't see, cuz she even wiped a tear from her eye from laughin' so hard.

She did let me play with the outlet for a little longer than usual today before she whisked me away into another room like a trillion times, when all I do is go right back to that same outlet and pull those stupid "baby proofin'" plugs out. I put them in-out, in-out over and over, and then I go and hide them in Daddy's shoes. But what really made her mad today is when I licked the plug and went to put it back in. Well, that just about got me in the most trouble I've ever been in. I cried so hard I couldn't catch my breath. What is her problem, anyway? I put EVERYTHING in my mouth - she knows that!

The rest of the night went much better, especially after I had more Tylenol than I probably should take - boy, did that help. We even shared my homemade pink cake with the neighbors (after I just threw my piece on the floor). And Mama made my favorite dinner - salmon (except I would rather have had Cheerios, but I forgive her since she pretty much let me eat them all day). Mama kept sayin' that at least we get a "do-over" at my party on Saturday, and we can have my birthday all over again. But I'll be honest, if my second birthday is gonna be anything like my first one, than I think I'd rather just stay one year old. Or will I still be one? So confusing.

I'd better get on to bed before someone catches me on this computer. This and Mama's phone are more off limits than even the outlets I think...

ONE-derful

2010-07-06T18:00:00.000-07:00

Today you are one.

It seems like a lifetime ago that my body quivered in labor. But it also feels so recent. Sometimes I need photos to remind me that you were ever so small, while other times I am shocked at the heavier weight of you in my arms as you sleep. Your long body sprawled out on our bed makes me do a double-take every time. You are so different, and yet exactly the same.

And what you've done to me - how you've changed me - I can barely begin to say. You've made my heart stronger but more vulnerable. And while you haven't actually changed the world (yet), you have changed my entire view of it. So few things matter to me the way they used to, while others have become my universe. The only way I could know such beauty and pain was to have you pass through me. My world intensified with you. But most of all, it made me become who've I've always wanted to be. I am happiest in this new state of love. The complexities that have developed and have been uncovered, the raw emotion that is so often revealed without my consent - they are heavy matters of the heart that have somehow helped me to be lighthearted.

I will never expect you to be able to grasp how intense my love is for you. I could never even explain it even if you somehow had the ability to understand. But I hope you feel it. Even during the bad times or when you're in trouble, I hope you know my love only grows. But I also never want you to be burdened by it. I want my love to free you and bring you the security of never even having to think about it. I hope that is the gift I'm able to give you every year on your birthday, and every day of my life.

Today you are one. And what do you think? What does your body feel like inside? What secrets to life do you hold so deeply that not even you will remember? Because you cannot yet grasp the concept of holding onto a moment, I will hold onto this moment in time for you, at least how I see it. If ever you should ask me what you were like at this age, that I will know.

Until those questions come, until you possibly have a child of your own and want to know more about your infant self, I will capture you, moment by moment, step by step. You were inside me once and you always will be. Right now, I know you like I know myself. I can't wait to know you forever.

Today you are one. And like the day of your birth, this day will go down as one of the best days of my life.

Happy Birthday, Sunflower.

Too Fast.

2010-06-04T10:54:00.000-07:00

Everyone says it. They grow up too fast. It's hard to understand until you're witnessing your own child barreling ahead toward adulthood. That first year is also just so mind-blowing. The changes and the advancements that happen in such a short time are seemingly impossible. From complete and utter physical (and emotional) dependence to happily moving about the house...with or without you.

Stella is standing by herself for at least 30 seconds at a time now. OMG, OMG, Erik and I say back and forth as she teeters and wonders why we look like the dog just talked. And that's what it's like when she says something on purpose - it's like watching the dog talk (as a friend once said).

She waves and says, bye-bye. She says, Mama. She argues with me. She points when we ask her, Where is the kitty? The fan? The kiddo? Mama? Daddy? Do you want to take a bath? Where's your belly? Nose? Mouth? Home? We are home.

We are home. We took this old house and made it into the only place our child knows as "home". She sweats because she's a Texan and it's hot. She loves locally-grown watermelon (as a summer baby should). She loves refried beans (organic...). She hears and responds to Spanish all day. I love all of it. I am so at home.

I love the big city, but my Texas roots start screaming out during the summer. I can't get enough blue grass and twang, cobbler, BBQ, Willie Nelson (and his annual 4th of July picnic), the lake, the river. I love how this southern humidity makes my skin feel so, well...sticky. Supple. I love the people stopping me every 5 steps with their strong Texan accents - "Would you just look at that baby? Good night, she's beautiful!". Oh yes they do. Every five steps. I love that my daughter is spoken to all day long by all types of people. Rarely ever are we ignored on the street or in the store. The charm and friendliness come in gallon jars out here. For free. No tip required.

And the heat. Somehow I love the heat. The radio broadcaster chuckles as he reminds us that it's still spring. I have taken to my summer habit of picking up a novel. I just can't help it, kids or no. I have to have my summer affair with a novel, accompanied by lots of iced tea. It doesn't matter that I literally read no more than 4-10 minutes at a time. At least it's a taste. It satiates my literary hunger. More about my book choice later.

For now, for today, I focus on how sincerely happy we are. What a contrast from when we first moved here. I was pregnant and regretting this house and this neighborhood. My mom died, and with her, a large part of my own heart and happiness. But now, that is the only bad thing that haunts me. And it haunts me. Now that I have the maturity to understand the complicated life that she lived, now that I have the wisdom to understand what matters in life and what doesn't, now that I know the total miracle of motherhood, she is gone.

But she is in every bite of salted watermelon. She is in every vase of fresh cut flowers. She's in this Texas heat, the only state in which she ever lived. Everything about Texas. Everything about summer, and all seasons - she is there. I wish I could have seen it before. I wish I could have treasured our similarities in this way before. The Texas house wife. Now I know.

First Cabin Trip

2010-06-02T13:18:00.000-07:00

We celebrated Erik's birthday at a cabin with our very good friends Patti, Tony and their baby Cecilia (she is just 10 days younger than Stella). We celebrated Patti and Tony's birthdays, too, as they were right around the same time.

It looks like we were miles and miles from home, but we were only 45 minutes from Austin (if that). Lost Pines is truly "lost" - a crazy stretch of beautiful tall pines out in the middle of the Texas Hill Country. And I was shocked by Bastrop State Park. I can already feel the tradition coming on...

We grilled out over the community fire pit on the first night. Here the men are getting it all ready.

The girls chilled.

We had breakfast on the porch every morning (note the cute high chairs).

Cecilia was lovin' the yogurt.

Tony had many hammock adventures.

The girls practiced sharing...

...while Patti learned a chord or two...

...before baby duty.

We lunched on the porch, as well.

In Daddy's hat.

There were many naps with babies in the hammock.

Happy Birthday, Daddy...and to everyone else, too.

San Francisco

2010-05-03T11:09:00.000-07:00

Little Cathey and I crashed Daddy's business trip to San Francisco. We had two days to explore together before Cathey and I were on our own. For those of you who know San Francisco, we stayed close to Union Square and I highly recommend staying in that area - soooo convenient to everything. Thanks to our neighbor Curtis for great walking tour recommendations.

We started in Union Square...

Walked up through Chinatown...

The Wok Shop

Continued up to North Beach and Little Italy

Ate at THE best Italian deli in which I've ever been...

Stopped for coffee at Cafe Stella (for obvious reasons)

Stella had her "coffee", too.

Continued up to the water where you can see the Golden Gate Bridge (barely... See it?).

And took a trolley back.

The next day we hit the insanely amazing farmers market at the Ferry Building (on Saturdays).

Blue Bottle Coffee...

Let's just say that I went to every location...multiple times...

And then we spent the rest of the day with Erik's sister and her family in Golden Gate Park. I can't believe I don't have any pictures from that... Seriously??

The next morning we had a bath with Daddy at the hotel before he ran off to the conference. The view was amazing from the 26th floor of the Parc 55 Hotel.

Having a sack lunch at Union Square.

Making friends with the other "conference kids".

The night of our anniversary - room service of burgers, fries and the Daily Show...with no talking because Stella was asleep in the Ergo. It's the little things (like TV because we don't have one).

And then we visited our good friend, Ben. Stella is unsure about posing for a picture..

She thinks about escaping...

But Ben wins her over...

And over...

And over. Hilarious. Thanks for a great day, Ben.

All in all, it was a really great trip, and it was the right decision to go - much better than being alone for a week and away from Erik during our anniversary. I have found that Stella really enjoys being on the move more than anything else.

Baseball Season

2010-04-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

It's baseball season and we had our first practice.

Doh, where'd it go?

Work for it...

Good recovery.

Throw it in! Follow it through!

Look at 'er go! Nice one!

Eatin' sunflower seeds.

With a little bit of hand...

Always keep your eye on the ball! And be as cute as possible.

Easter Catch-up

2010-04-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

We had a very small Easter gathering this year. Sadly, there is a family feud that has interrupted larger holiday gatherings, but Stella still had a very nice first Easter.

Waiting for company to arrive.

Still waiting (they got held up)...

I adopted the German Easter tradition of hanging egg ornaments (these are chocolate).

Stella's first Easter basket. The stuffed animals were ones my mom was keeping for her before she passed.

Lavender champagne and lavender iced tea...yum.

Part of the spread (minus the strata and bacon - "bacon's good").

Lemon blueberry bundt cake from scratch.

Goodies from our favorite local bakery, Quack's.

She had a nice Easter with Grandma and Grandpa Fahrenthold.

And a few days later was visited by a giant bunny from Nana.

Flowers

2010-04-24T10:05:00.000-07:00

Spring in Austin is truly amazing, especially when there isn't a drought. We love our bluebonnets here in Texas...

Where's Baby Girl?

With Stella's little buddy, Cecilia.

Play nice, girls...

And I just have to end with the trip on our new light rail in Austin...

...because of this picture.

And because the flowers are amazing there, too.

Arms Up!

2010-03-27T12:10:00.001-07:00

Stella's eighth month has been huge.

She has learned to kiss (though more "French" than probably appropriate...). She has perfected crawling (though it be a crazy crawl):

And a week or so ago, after months of saying it and showing it, she surprised us with an actual wave when we said, "Bye Bye".

She has made lots of friends:

And she has learned how to respond to the phrase "Arms up!":

She's also pulling up and standing for very long periods of time. She looks us square in the eye when we say words we've been trying to teach her, like "book", "Mama", and "Daddy". Huge messes are left everywhere she goes. Yes, this month has been huge. And so much more to come.

Just Pictures

2010-03-21T07:16:00.001-07:00

We are enjoying spring.

A visit with Grandma and Grandpa Fahrenthold

Beautiful day at the Nutty Brown Cafe.

Grandpa lovin'.

Warm days in the backyard on the blanket.

Classic.

Prune cuteness.

Little Cathey

2010-03-10T12:31:00.000-08:00

Cathey Estelle, I simply cannot believe how fast your eight months have gone. While it seems years ago that I was in labor with you, it seems only seconds ago that you were too little for even the smallest nightgowns. Now when we see other newborns, you seem so large compared to them, but when we're alone, I am still surprised at how you are still just a baby.

And you are so very BABY. You laugh and laugh and laugh at your dad and me when we make faces or dance around. You adore the baby looking back in the mirror. You grab your toes in your highchair and store your food between them. You are often distracted when nursing, but you still reach up and touch my face while kicking your legs all around. We all agree that your crawl is just crazy. You use your right foot instead of your knee, and you drag your left leg around. Of course, I'm worried something is wrong with one of your legs, but others assure me that you've just figured out a more efficient way to crawl (you do go pretty fast).

Because you're my first child, I just couldn't imagine what it would be like for you to be crawling and more independent. But now I can barely remember what it was like to have you lay in one place. Because we have not baby-proofed, I have to follow you around as you get into (and onto) absolutely everything. Today you pulled the recycling bin over onto yourself, and while you were very startled, you didn't make a peep - you just looked up for my reaction. "Oh my lord, Baby Girl" is what you heard.

These days you are napping around 9:30am and 1:30pm. Sometimes you sleep for 1.5hrs and sometimes only for a half hour. Mostly you sleep in the Ergo while Mommy gets precious computer time or flips through recipes for dinner. But often, like today, we will go to Whole Foods or Central Market during a nap, and Mom will shop while you sleep peacefully. When at home, we put your nap-time song on repeat while we nurse, change diaper, and then sway to sleep in the Ergo. Though you don't fight it, you make all kinds of sad whimpering sounds while you convince your body to relax and give in. It is almost my favorite thing. So amazing. So temporary. When you wake up, you are quiet and slow to rise. You quietly look around you for a good 10 minutes before you start to stretch and make sounds, implying that you're ready to move on.

After you nurse for a good long time, you sit up and exclaim, "Ga ga ga ga ga". You open your mouth wide from side to side while you talk, and you look like an old lady with few teeth (you have 4 but you're cutting your 5th, and BOY is it hard on you!).

You still HATE changing your diaper. Really, I think you just hate laying down. Every. Single. Time. You yell and cry, even as we give you a rainbow of objects to distract you. Wish I could understand what you're trying to tell me. We've tried changing you standing up, and you know how that went...

Oh, Stella. I won't even go into how you sleep at night. But I will tell you that some of our favorite moments are in the dark of our room, snuggled up together in the bed while you nurse. Often in the morning, Daddy will take you for awhile so Mama can get some rest, and when you come back, your face could light up the world. He puts you down on the bed and you laugh and crawl all over me, and you pull at my nightgown to nurse.

For several reasons, I have been very slow on feeding you solids. Mainly because I make all of your food, and I just haven't been that organized about it. I have also read so much conflicting advice about what to feed you and how many times. But we're figuring it out. You are up to two "meals" a day and are working on adding breakfast. We eat together at night at the table as a family, and you entertain us with the faces you make with almost every bite. You've had sweet potatoes, apples, pears, butternut squash, prunes and apricots. You are totally uninterested in the food that we put on your tray, so we still feed you every bite, but you will learn.

You're my baby. Sometimes I still can't believe it, but you're my baby. One day, you will be a knockout-of-a-woman, and I will beg for your phone calls and attention. But right now, your world is small. And you are my baby.

Sleepin' in the Ergo

Play date with Cecilia

Your Valentine from Mama and Daddy

Post bathtime

A very early morning (earning you the nickname "Sunrise")

So very Baby.

Crawling!

With your many cousins (NINE, and only from two families!)

Nursing in our rocking chair

It's warmin' up outside

Mmmmm.

Sporting your barrette

My baby.

Crying it Out

2010-02-23T12:58:00.000-08:00

In effort to not completely forget everything one day (since I've failed miserably at writing it all down), I will take a moment to journal about our sleep situation.

First of all, I am writing this blog post on my laptop propped up high on my desk because I am standing up. I am standing because baby is taking her nap on me in the Ergo (baby carrier), and every time I sit, she wakes up (I think she had sensors implanted in our butts). As I've said before, this is the only way she'll take naps if I want her to sleep longer than 8 mins. While we are working on getting her to actually lay down for her naps (and we've worked on it in the past), the advice out there is not to mess with her naps if you have a bad night-sleeping situation (supposedly the better their naps, the better they sleep at night). Given that she's waking up every hour at night, I'd say that we have a bad night-sleeping situation. But there are reasons. I'll get to that.

My outlook on the sleep situation has been how I try to look at everything regarding parenting: Enjoy it - it won't last. Or: This, too, shall pass. And actually, I really do enjoy it. I can say that I literally feel her take every breath, and when she wakes up, she looks right up into my eyes and a huge smile spreads across her face. She sleeps peacefully and soundly when she sleeps on me. And best of all, I can pretty still go anywhere - the store, walks, restaurants, out of town, wherever. It's not as easy to get her down if there's distraction, but at least she doesn't have to have a bed to take naps. She also goes down really easily since we developed a routine. I know that she's willing to adapt to new things (because she totally responded to the routine-thing), but the key is her needing it. She needed a routine, but she may not need some of the more conventional sleeping arrangements that our society pushes on parents and children.

Stella is developing very well. I'm not worried about her lack of sleep. She is who she is. So she's not a very good sleeper - so what? She will be one day, or maybe not. I'm still not. I have always woken at the slightest noise. I've always struggled with insomnia. I've always gotten up at the crack of dawn because my body has never left me any other choice (though I'm not as much of a morning person as I used to be...). Is it because my mom was the exact same way? Is it because my parents left me to cry it out in a crib, and as a result I have anxiety around sleeping? Who knows. The inconvenience that I'm experiencing right now with Stella not sleeping is nothing with which I can't deal. I have my frustrations and I have my limits, and when my limit is reached, I have my breakdowns. But all of that was the same before she came along. Before Stella, work is what would push me to my limit and I would have a little breakdown and feel much better. Honestly, I can say most of my limits have to do with my hormones. PMS dictates more than I like to admit, but that's how it is - I have to deal with it. Breakdown is probably overly dramatic of a term. I vent heatedly or cry in the shower - that's more accurate.

The truth of the matter is that the push to be conventional is what negatively challenges me the most. Yes, it sucks that I have to basically go to bed at 7:30 pm and stay there for the next 12 hours. But would it suck so bad if I had 5, or even 3, other friends that were doing the same thing? Perspective is everything. Just like when you have a colicky baby, you almost have to seek out others that parent the way you do in order to feel like you're not crazy. I know there are others out there that are experiencing this and are just dealing with it instead of spending a lot of time trying to change it. But many of my friends (with the exception of a few) have very different situations than me, and they will counsel as parents do. We will be talking about our kids and our lives, and the conversation is inadvertently turned into trying to give me suggestions because they feel bad for me. And I appreciate that. But it's like this: they talk about their baby and how she sleeps or doesn't or whatever, and then they ask me about our experience. And then the list starts: "Have you tried this? Have you tried that? Oh, you're co-sleeping...? Well..." In the past, I've almost been apologetic when I tell people that we're co-sleeping, as if I know I'm to blame for my own problems. But I'm not actually apologetic. I love it. I feel fortunate to do it. And I often follow-up my statements with, "But I love it". But who cares who's judging me?

For months at a time, people will pull all-nighters to earn their degree, Masters or Ph.D, but many aren't willing to pull "all-nighters" with their young children other then a few times. Maybe school or work seems more of a justified reason, or maybe school seems more short-term. But that's how I see this stage of her (and my) life - it's short-term. THIS is my Ph.D. THIS is my job. THIS is where I am challenged. I am tested at every stage of motherhood. And because I am not evaluated by reviews from my boss or peers, I have to provide those evaluations myself. This process is maturing me as a woman because that is what having kids does to you. It tests my limits, and as a result, I meet new parts of me that I didn't know existed. Some of these things in me I do not like, and others I have grown to love and respect. She is the boss that's reviewing me. She is my customer. She is satisfied. And so am I.

As for the going to bed at 7:30-thing - no, I'm not worried about it's affects on Erik and me. We have a very strong and long bond that has withstood a lot. This is hard, but it's only practice for things to come. Hard is having a kid with leukemia, or surviving breast cancer. I am in no way minimizing sleep deprivation because it is brutal. It's torture. But we've been able to adjust so that we are not so tortured by it. We will not have this luxury with the second child, but second children are sometimes different - we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I don't need to parent Stella now based on what I may or may not have the luxury to do with our second child. They may be parented differently, but all children are because of their birth order.

But back to Erik and me, there are other ways for us to connect - it doesn't have to be after 7:30 when she's asleep. I'm not being robbed of anything precious that I can't get back on the weekend or at a different time. If we had time after 7:30 where we just "hung out", we would probably spend it watching mindless Netflix (which I love), or getting computer time that we never get. So instead of focusing on what I'm not getting done or what I'm NOT doing, I am focusing on how precious it is to be needed while my daughter cuts daggers through her gums. She is teething. She is learning to crawl. She is busy. It just happens to be at night when she needs to reconnect, snuggle and seek comfort through all that is her life right now. I feel that she is communicating very clearly what she needs, and I do not feel the need to deny her that. Sometimes when I'm very sleep deprived, I may tell Erik or friends that something's gotta give. But I don't always feel that way. I've made a lot of changes in my life to be able to get through this time. That's what "gave". Netflix "gave". I will not make Stella cry in order to achieve something that I'm not convinced is necessary. Right now, Stella does very little crying unless something is pretty wrong (except for laying down for diaper changes - I have no idea what that's about). I'd like to keep it that way.

Remembering Reflux

2010-02-15T14:00:00.001-08:00

My dear friend recently gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Her beautiful baby girl has reflux. Because her pain and trauma hits so close to home, and because I never expounded upon the experience that we had with it, I am going to remember it now for my own sake and as a support to others that have experienced this cruel, harsh and undeserved sentence after the birth of a child.

It started after the second week of Stella's life. The screaming. The crying. People said it was normal. Others said it was not. People said it would stop after 6 weeks; 8 weeks; 3 months. The pediatrician listened and gave us sympathetic looks but really did nothing. When people asked how things were going, we nervously tried to be honest without being too whoa-as-me. And then the barrage of suggestions: "Did you try Gripe Water?" "Maybe you hold her too much". Then we just got sick of talking about it. What was the point? It was clear that other couples with babies less than three months old were enjoying Netflix movies at night and were eating dinner sitting down. They were not going through this. They were not gearing up all day for 5pm to start, when the baby would literally scream for the next 5-7hrs. They did not have days filled with painful gas and hiccups. They weren't forced to keep their baby sleeping upright ALL day and most of the night.

It started without warning. Things suddenly shifted from having a peaceful quiet newborn that slept in a baby hammock to having a panicky situation of passing her back and forth to each other as she screamed her loudest and tested our resolve. We walked up and down the street for hours in the middle of the balmy night, we rocked, we changed from sling to Moby to arms and to sling again. We laid her on the changing table and massaged her belly - sometimes that would quiet her for a few minutes. A few minutes became Heaven to us. But it would never last. We literally always had to be on the move. When she'd finally go to sleep later in the night, she would only sleep upright in the Moby, for when we laid her down it would start all over again. We took turns sleeping with her that way until it got so late in the night that we could lay her down in the bed with us and she would give into exhaustion. But many full nights were spent upright in the Moby, too.

And now, all her naps are spent upright in the Moby. ALL of them.

What was the problem? It was "colic". It was silent reflux. It was most likely underdeveloped intestines and "such" (pretty common in babies - they call it "colic"), and it all causes lots of stomach discomfort - gas, reflux, etc. She never had a diagnosis (we were never pushed to get one). In case it was allergies, I went wheat, soy, dairy and nut free for 3 months. I had done it before I got pregnant, but I wasn't nursing at the time. I wasn't sleep deprived at the time. While it sounds easy enough to just get up and cook chicken and broccoli, it's not easy to get up and make anything when you're baby won't stop crying and you're completely fried when she's not.

What worked? Nothing stopped the crying except for small distractions a couple of minutes at a time. A dropper of Gripe Water or Mylicon, a finger to suck on, eventually the pacifier would buy us a few minutes, a soothing CD would help calm our nerves while we wildly swayed her from side to side in the Moby. We literally could not stop moving. She would not let us sit down. AT ALL. One of us would make dinner while the other paced with the baby, and then we would take turns eating, or one of us would feed the other as we paced. As long as we kept moving. That's what helped.

Sadness, stress and worry is what I felt. When Erik would take her, I would fervently search the net for answers about colic, reflux and gas. I'd read message boards where people called it "the witching hour". I knew I wasn't the only one out there. Dr. Sears has chapters devoted in his books to comforting and parenting this kind of baby. But none of it actually helped the baby - it just made us realize we weren't insane and that it wasn't our fault. We still didn't know anyone else going through it though. Literally no one understood or could help, and we were so busy dealing with it that we didn't know how to ask for help.

Oh, the worry I had. I was a first-time mom! Nothing could have prepared me for that. She would grimace and straighten her legs and body like an arrow. She would scream so much that she'd get hoarse, and she'd cough and choke. I was supposed to protect her and I felt helpless. I felt robbed that I was not getting to bond with her in a sweet and intimate way. Instead, I was trying to control myself from losing it altogether. When she would stop screaming, I would begin to sob. Listening to that much crying and not sleeping at all was a recipe for complete havoc on the soul.

I went back to look at my posts from this period and I can see that I was politely avoiding the subject - trying not to complain. We were getting more judgment than support at the time, so I remember trying to keep the complaining to a minimum - use the blog to report milestones and happy things, I told myself. I didn't want the trauma of it to be the only thing about which I talked. But now I'm talking about it. I want my friend to know that I understand how insanely hard it is (though I don't know what it's like to also have a toddler, and her baby's reflux is MUCH worse). I want her to know that it prevents you from being the "kind of mom" you would want to be (one that's 100%), but that it's ok - things get better.The kind of mom you are to that baby at that time is exactly what you have to be. Say what you need to say, think what you need to think in order to get through it. I'm not proud of the thoughts I had or the things I said outloud when I spent hours getting her to sleep only to have my phone wake her up and have it start all over. I'd pass the baby off and go into the garage and yell into a towel (or other outlets). Had my friends actually seen how I was behaving, they would have been worried. Should they have been? Yes and no. "Yes" because I could have used more help. But "no" because yelling into a towel and throwing pacifiers are very healthy ways to relieve frustration. If you don't let it out somehow and somewhere, you'll either deal with it in therapy forever or spend your life regretting something worse.

I'm not saying anything that my friend hasn't heard before. But for my own records and to support her and others, I needed to recount this time. It's anxiety-producing. It's nothing but hard in every way. I was lucky that it ended. When I was beginning to lose hope, there was a magical turn-around at 3 months. Oh glorious 3 months. Many things did not change but the crying stopped. That doesn't happen for everyone, but it will stop at some point. Until it does, I can tell you that everyday makes you better at it and you get stronger from it. It's cliche but it's true. You almost become a pro at crisis management.

If this is happening to you, I recommend talking about it and reaching out as much as possible. Don't suffer through it alone and don't be self conscious about it (as I was). If you keep talking about it, you will eventually come across others that are experiencing the same thing, and while they may not solve your situation, it will help just to have some understanding from someone. And if this is happening to you: Good luck - you WILL survive it. Take it one hour at a time. And to my friend who's situation is much worse than mine was: You are doing an amazing job. Your kids may never thank you for being so strong during this time, but getting through it is making you an even more amazing mom than you were before (hard to believe!), even though you think it's the opposite.

And while you can't prepare for it now, I would just say to be aware that if you have a baby like this, it seems that they tend to stay a "high-need" baby. Parenting them can be more of a challenge, but apparently their high needs are all with purpose - they will amaze you. And you will amaze yourself.

Christmas (2009...)

2010-02-15T13:32:00.001-08:00

I'm still catching up on blog posts of old photos and events. Here are photos from our trip to California to visit Erik's mom for Christmas.

One day we went to Balboa park with Erik's sister and her family of 4. Here we all are on the train.

Bianca and Lucia

Erik and Sebi

Exploring.

Awesome carousel. Awesome park.

One of a few Christmas parties - this is the Arko party (a very LARGE X-mas party).

Meeting Erik's grandma, Stella's great grandmother (she is blind and is exploring her hand)

Stella with Great Grandma and Grandpa Whalen (she is very sick in this picture)

Just barely sitting up alone and very excited about presents.

Yummy teething bunny.

With Nana (Erik's mom)

Nanna's husband, Kim (with their very tall and beautiful tree)

And Daddy.

We had such a nice Christmas (except for being sick :( Thank you, Nana and Kim!

New Years with Our Friends

2010-02-15T08:00:00.000-08:00

Our friends Ryan and Nicole from DC moved to Berlin not long after we moved to Austin. After seeing them nearly every weekend for years, it has been a hard adjustment to mostly experience them through their blog and sporadic emails. So we were so excited when they were able to visit us in Austin as part of their Christmas trip to the States! Stella was quite ill (and Nicole, too, as it turns out...), so we weren't able to do it up as usual, but we enjoyed some very low key time.

They met Stella for the first time in person (vs. Skype).

She liked them.

We crawled around on Ryan...

We had floor time with Nicole...

We played with our new precious finger puppets from Germany!

The boys jumped into their gadget/tech-speak...

And in addition to other things, we enjoyed a lovely vegetarian meal at Mother's Cafe.

Man were we sad to see them go. Actual tears fell from my eyes. While it's fun to move off and start new chapters of life, it is so very hard to leave your friends. We have the promise of seeing our other friends in DC a lot because we go back several times a year, but it's hard to be separated by oceans. If we don't make it to Europe this year, our plan is to meet them wherever we can on their next trip to the US. But believe me, we are planning on seeing this Germany-place soon (beer...beer...yum...). Until then...we miss you guys! Thanks for coming!

A Visit from Italy

2010-02-11T07:57:00.000-08:00

Erik's dad came to visit from Italy, and while this was back in...November...here are some memories now!

Grandpa meets Cathey Estelle for the first time

Trying out the sling...

That's better.

Gettin' ready to eat some good Texas BBQ (hard to find in Italy)

The Grandpas (we took an awesome tour of Colling's Guitars where my dad works)

So sad you left...it went too fast... Come again soon!

And thank you for the wonderful things you brought us - we love our jogger and our new Moby!!

Hello Again

2010-02-10T08:09:00.000-08:00

There are many reasons why I haven't posted in so long. But instead of going through the excuses, I will just do a quick update instead, followed by some quick posts with pictures (some of this I just need to get down for my own records before I forget it all!).

The last thing I posted was about our trip back to DC for Thanksgiving (yikes, is it already Valentine's Day...?). Not long after that we traveled to California for Christmas. Stella had a very sweet first Christmas visiting her Nana in San Diego. However, she got sicker than she had ever been (and we got sick, too). She was sick for almost an entire month, starting with fever and throwing-up, and settling into terrible congestion, cough, mucus, etc. We "slept" upright with her because it was the only way she could get any rest. It was reminiscent of the colic/reflux days in the early months (shiver). The blood test confirmed it was flu, though the Health Dept is the only one that can determine if it was Swine Flu (ped said it could have been). Our job was to keep it from turning into a major infection or pneumonia. It was just hard. For a long time.

But then she got better and our hearts were relieved! What did not change was her new sleeping pattern, however. She literally wakes every 45 minutes now, and when she's teething really bad (all the time lately), she wakes up every 20 minutes. The sleep deprivation has been brutal, no doubt, but we are surviving. We've done some things to try and make it better and easier. For instance, she now has a bedtime (7:30) and a routine, something totally foreign to us before. We had tried to do this earlier in her life, but she fought going to sleep so hard that we decided not to spend the whole night trying to put her down. But as it turns out, she is, alas, ready for an early bedtime, and she does SOOOOOO much better with a routine. Erik and I are not routine people, so I wasn't very excited about introducing something that's hard to maintain when you're traveling, etc. But it works so well that it's worth it, and it's also very pleasant and sweet. We play the same sweet song on repeat, while we get her ready for bed in her own bedroom (change diaper, put on jammies, nurse, brush "teeth") and then we read books before we put her in the Ergo and sway her to sleep. Since the beginning, she has always loved for me to nestle my face with hers and to hold her hand while patting her back and singing in her ear, all at the same time (this is why an Ergo is useful - hands-free holding). It's so very sweet. I wish this age would never end (except for the sleep part).

Erik has mostly become the parent that puts her to sleep at night while I run around getting things ready for bed (I shower, fill up humidifier, clear off beds, etc.). Believe it or not, we all end up going to sleep with her at like 8:30 because it's the only chance at a decent night's sleep that we'll get. Then I take her through the night - I wake with her every 45 mins until I reach my limit (5am) at which point I wake Erik to take over (he's usually had between 7-8 hours of sleep by then). Yes, we are trying many things to improve the length of her sleep, but until those two stubborn top teeth come in, there's not much we can do. She's in pain and that's clear from noon until noon again. Before, I was frantic to change the situation, but I've had a major attitude adjustment. Now I'm just trying to enjoy her cuddles while they last (while changing ours lives to accommodate crazy sleeplessness). We've read some books and talked to other parents, and we are not completely giving up on changing things, but every baby is different - we just have a high-needs baby (and trust me, they exist and it's not the parents' fault). Learning to crawl and cutting teeth also just makes babies wake up a lot. It won't last forever.

Now for some pictures...

The Big Trip Back East

2009-12-04T13:45:00.000-08:00

We went back to DC for the holiday, a trip that also doubled as Erik's work trip. Stella took her first airplane, her first Amtrak train, her first subway ride and first ride in a bus. She had her moments on the plane (moments in which, unfortunately, many people on the plane shared...), but all in all, she traveled like a champ. The trip was worth it for she met many admirers (not in the following order).

My old coworkers...what a natural!

Miss YaMinco & Mr. John

Mr. Abe, Mrs. Linda, Miss Marlene, Miss Laura, Miss Sorrel, Miss Emily

Miss Laura

First subway

First plane

First Amtrak

[Great] Aunt Linda

[Great] Uncle Robin and cousins Max and Moss

[Great] GREAT Grandma sportin' the Moby Wrap

Thanksgiving with the fam

[Great] Aunt Lori and cousin Moss

[Great] Aunt Paula and cousin Max

[Great] Uncle Jamie

Mrs. Beth

Mr. Brock

Mrs. Liz

Mr. Jason

Hello Again

2009-10-24T10:43:00.000-07:00

My laptop died awhile back and I have been without the ability to [easily] post. But more than that, my life has made it almost impossible to post.

The abbreviated version is that Stella got her first cold, then Erik got it and then I got it. Then our wonderful friends from DC came to visit. Then I got the H1N1 nasal vaccine and became very ill from it (Erik and I both had to do antibiotics!). Then we buried my beautiful grandmother who passed away at 89. Then Erik's dad came to visit from Italy, and THEN we went to DC/Cumberland for 8 days for the holiday combined with Erik's work trip. We got in around 1am last night and are recovering well :)

BTW, if you are asthmatic and are thinking of getting the H1N1 nasal vaccine, I highly recommended reconsidering and maybe getting the shot instead if you can. Lord, if I had known...

But more importantly, Stella is growing like a weed and doing ridiculously cute stuff. She is almost FIVE months old and is now rolling, laughing out loud and grabbing her toes when she lays on her back. I will post more recent pics in my next post, but here are a few catch-up photos :)

Brunch

Bath time!

Snoozin' in her car seat

3 Months Today!

2009-10-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

There is so much to say but I am one-hand typing...so I'll post pics for now : )

But I have to say that Stella rolled for her first time today (twice!), on her 3-month b-day! I did not expect this reaction, but I balled. And then I cried again later when I thought about it... Oh what joy does to me!

Outdoor movie in our park!

We picnicked of course!

Happy Birthday, Rosebud!

The Story Behind the Post

2009-09-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I should share the story (the last straw) that prompted me to write a post about attacks on our "parenting style". It's funny because it will seem to you like the exact opposite happened of what I was saying about our actual "style", but it's the sentiment (or lack thereof) that was at the heart of my fury.

I was at the tailor getting a cheap dress from Target hemmed, thinking that it would be a good dress for breastfeeding, and for hiding my postpartum body (nothing fits yet!), otherwise I would not be going through the trouble (I don't go anywhere that matters these days, but I'd like to have at least one thing that fits that's not maternity). Here's the dilemma: in order to try on a dress and wait while a woman sits at your feet and pins it to the appropriate length requires you to not be holding a baby (especially not in a sling which would affect the length of the dress). So for one time only, I agreed with myself that instead of asking a stranger to hold Stella while I have this done, it occurred to me that people leave their babies in their car seats when they need both hands for a minute. People leave their babies in their car seats for entire shopping trips, naps, etc., but I just needed 5 minutes - just 5 minutes in the car seat. Oh, did I mention she hates the car seat, even when she's in the car? Well, there you go.

So I carry her in her car seat into the little fitting room to put the dress on, sweet-talking her and touching her all the while. I turn her toward the multiple mirrors so that she can see herself and me while the woman is pinning. She is unhappy. I reach down and pull the car seat up to eye level with me, and I use my free arm to put my finger in my mouth (her pacifier...she won't take a normal one), and she is still unhappily crying. The woman is doing exactly the opposite of what I am requesting, and so she is taking way longer than she should.

Finally, she has finished. I hangout with Stella on the floor for a few moments with lots of physical contact, trying to calm her down so that I can get undressed and dressed (again, I need two hands for this). "Couple more minutes, Baby", I plead. She is half cooperating.

When dressed, we run over to the counter to get our ticket stub and pre-pay for the job. I am kneeling down next to her (so that the lady behind the counter can't even see me), I'm fishing for my credit card, and then I'm signing the credit card slip on my knee with one hand while the other hand has a finger in her mouth.

While this is happening, a large older woman (like mother hen or something) is sitting in a chair commenting on exactly what I should be doing, and asking why I am not doing something different. "Why is she in that contrapment? She doesn't like it!", she goes on, pointing out the obvious. "Oh, she hates it. I never do this but I needed free hands for a few minutes", I explain, frazzled. "Well, she needs out of there - take her out!", she demands. "I would except we're about to get in the car and, believe it or not, she actually hates it more when I take her out and put her back in again...", I reason. "Well, take her out! Don't give her that fake finger-thing! Where's her bottle?!". "She doesn't take a bottle!", I exclaim with increasing annoyance at her judgmental, non-helpful demeanor. "Oh, she's breastfed? Well, at least she's breastfed...", as if it's the only thing I'm doing right. "Well, get her out of there!", she starts up again, and she advances toward the car seat and proceeds to try and take her out of it while I'm sitting there with her with my finger in her mouth! "She is FINE, THANK YOU." I say bluntly, staring her down.

As a commenter commented (thank you for your comment!), I experience plenty of harmless parenting advice (and yes, I may act like I don't speak English next time - thanks for the tip!). And as I said in my earlier post, I let most of it roll off of my back. I sincerely enjoyed all of the attention I got when I was pregnant, feeling like there was a sudden interest in my child from the entire universe, and like there was this connection that did not require knowing me to approach me with advice (not typical for our social norms). I mostly take this attitude now as a new mom - I am rarely defensive, and I don't feel like I have anything about which to be insecure (and hence, defensive). But as I stated before, it is the underlying judgment that I just can't handle. And like I asked before, where are the compliments (thank you, Commenters, that have sent in your props!)? I don't walk around looking for kudos, but I'd sure like a balance! I'll hear 20 pieces of advice in any given day about how I shouldn't wear her too much, or I shouldn't hold her, or I shouldn't let her suck her thumb (even though she doesn't), or I shouldn't let her sleep with us or let her "bully" us with her crying... But it is rare to walk through a store and hear, "You are such a good mom to be wearing your baby, or talking to your baby like she's an actual person!" And again, it's not that I'm looking for that; it's mostly that people are so quick to judge and be negative then to compliment or praise.

Just sayin'...

Thank you for all of your comments! I totally appreciate them :)

Dear Stella

2009-09-23T18:15:00.001-07:00

This past week you discovered your toes. One afternoon as we finished an errand in the car, I was wholly curious as to why you were not screaming anymore as you do the whole time you're in your car seat (you just hate it - we don't know why). I pulled up to the house and hopped into the backseat, ready to rescue you from your evil car seat, but you didn't make a peep. Instead, you were quietly observing your toes out in front of you, wriggling around and waving back at you. I imagined you asking, "Am I controlling that? Are those 'things' mine?".

You've also started to develop recognizable patterns to clue us in as to your needs. After you awake in the morning, it is not that long before you're ready to go right back to sleep for a mid-morning nap. You are still only sleeping on your mom or dad in the Moby wrap or in a sling; if we lay you down anywhere after you've fallen asleep, you immediately wake up. So we've given in to wearing you for every daytime nap, otherwise you don't sleep and that makes for a very cranky nighttime Stella.

We have also learned to identify the difference between when you are tired, when you are hungry or when you just want a change in scenery (or when you have dirty britches). I can't really explain the difference, but I think every parent would agree that there is one.

My favorite times with you are when you're waking up. No matter from a nap or from nighttime sleeping, you are slow to rejoin the busy world. You prefer to take your time, stretching and cooing, looking around a bit, but mostly you prefer to quietly put your head on my shoulder while you continue to wake up. I love to hold your face to mine, kissing your ear and neck as I gently sway you and awaken my sleepy little bird. Once you've awoken a bit, the smiles start, and my heart feels like it might explode from too much love.

As I did everyday in DC before you were born, we listen to NPR in the morning to get our daily dose of domestic politics and world events (we also don't have a TV...). As quickly as I lose myself in the disbelief of what's happening with health care in this country, or the war, or the Middle East, I just as quickly bring my mind right back to you and all of your wonder. I stare at you in amazement to know how innocent you are to the world's nastiness and complexity. Yet I am excited for your opportunity to explore it with a clean slate and a full heart.

I honestly can't say what the world will hold for you. I'm sure that my parents, and their parents, thought that the world had turned into such a scary place that maybe they shouldn't have brought kids into the world. I don't feel that it's too scary of a place for you to live - I'm glad to have given you the opportunity to experience living in this world, even during this modern time. But I am scared and curious of the things you will surely experience either first hand or from afar. Will terrorism be an everyday-thing? Will your first car be truly electric? Will your country be at war? Will you attend a legal same-sex marriage (legal in the whole country)? Will local food in the grocery store still be an anomoly or something typical? Will you eventually have to pay to even stand up and stretch on an airplane???

How strange to think that you may be a bleeding heart (like your mom and dad), one who wants to defend those without a voice, always looking for justice. I may have to brace myself when you tell me in high school that you're a vegan and that you're moving to New York City as soon as you turn 18 so that you can fight the good fight, and that school can wait... Or will I pace night after night, waiting by the phone for a call as you travel across the country in a beat-up car with a friend (or boyfriend) of whome I disapprove? Or perpaps you will be addicted to Dr. Pepper and Milk Duds, never leaving the house because you can't put down the most popular hand-held gaming device of the moment, or you are beating a computer game for the millionth time (but it gets harder everytime), and I'll be begging you to go outside and play or to go "partying" with your friends.

But for now, even as I type, you sleep peacefully on my body, unaware of the future or even the past. Your world is full of the most basic and essential of needs: food, warmth, shelter, sleep, activity and love. Your parents fuss over every little detail regarding you: is it too hot for socks, should we give you Gripe Water and Mylicon Drops, should we let you finish your nap (the one you so desperately needed) in your car seat or take you out and risk having you stay awake? Whatever the subject matter, it always seems crucial to us as we learn our way and as you learn yours. It will be my job not to suffocate you with concern (something with which a sybling will surely help :) , and it will be your job to love your life...the only one you have to live.

Bless you!

Opinions

2009-09-20T15:57:00.002-07:00

I hold our daughter a lot. We hold our daughter as much as we can. We respond to her cries, to her yells and even to her fidgets. We respect when we think she's had enough (in terms of being out and about), and we watch for her cues for signs as to what she needs or wants. We keep her close. We sleep with her. We sing to her. We don't want to leave her behind yet for "dates" or any other reason. We sincerely enjoy her company, and we each get sad when we're away from her for any given period. This isn't to say that we don't give each other breaks, but they are short and sweet.

People are very quick to tell you that you are spoiling your child from holding her too much or sleeping with her. They're quick to judge you, thinking that giving your child as much attention as you can means that they will never get along on their own. People won't hesitate to tell you that she is screaming because you hold her too much and now she wants nothing else, or because she'll hate everything that doesn't have to do with you. Or that she's behaving badly because she's spoiled.

My question is why aren't people more willing to give you compliments where they are due on the hard job of parenting? Where is the support for having read tons of research and deciding that children fare better and trust you more (and themselves) later in life when they are not ignored or left behind as infants and toddlers? Why do people think that a couple of people like Erik and myself that research everything wouldn't have stopped to read and purposefully decide about what might be best for OUR child?

I am of the opinion that it takes a village. But I am not always sure that I want the negative village with which I am sometimes surrounded. If people are going to assert themselves and their knowledge onto me about my parenting choices, they'd better be a little more in line with my philosophy or they won't get far. I have read both sides. I have seen all different kinds of parenting styles. I have LIVED those different styles. And from experience, I can tell you that there are worse ways of raising a child than how we are raising ours. I happen to think that our parenting style is closer to the top of the scale (good) rather than down in the red danger zone.

I absolutely welcome advice around what worked for other's children and what didn't. I love being exposed to the different ways that my friends are raising their children. I think it's important to always challenge yourself and to ask questions about what you're doing, comparing your style to others that you know. But by no means do I welcome the judgment that so often follows "harmless advice". I don't know what people are trying to accomplish by telling me that I hold my child too much or that I should give her a pacifier (which she will not take!). But I'm guessing it's because they don't want me to suffer, nor do they want my child to be rotten like an apple that fell off a truck (as if I do). I will say, however, that if the "harmless advice" is not completely sincere, or if it has even the slightest hint of judgment, then it can be withheld or shared with someone that's actually listening.

Can you tell I've had a few incidents? I wrote this post weeks ago but reserved publishing it right away for hope that my emotion would "settle down" a little bit. But every time I encounter that familiar "you're not raising your kid right" stance, I go from zero to annoyed right away. I know it's just the beginning of people butting into how we parent. And some of it I sincerely let roll off my back, completely unaffected. But it's that hint of judgment that can't escape my peripheral vision. Just like I did with any nastiness that came out around my wedding (another place where people tell you how to do it), I just won't tolerate unproductive judgment, especially from those that have nothing to show for "the way they did it".

Yoikes, Scooby!

2009-09-17T16:55:00.000-07:00

I was looking up some products that I received as a gift to see if they contained carcinogens, etc. Because I had heard that they were far from organic, I wasn't surprised to find that they weren't rated highly. But I was surprised to find that the specific products I received of this brand were ranked among some of the worst in terms of bad "stuff" in them. and they are baby products.

I recommend the below site if you're making the move to have safer cosmetics (lotions, shampoos, make-up, etc.) in your life. I actually made the switch long ago to using all organic cosmetics and beauty products (mascara, lotion, hair stuff, moisturizer, etc.), but there are still the occasional gifts that I'm not always sure about. Of course, there is the opinion that one little bottle of whatever isn't going to hurt you, especially when the fumes from cars and second-hand smoke you breathe are so much worse. But my attitude is that as little of all that bad stuff as possible is better, and I will control what I can. My end goal is to be around for a long time - to watch Stella have babies, and maybe even to watch those babies have babies (my grandmas are still around - they are Stella's great grandmothers!). I'm glad sites like this exist so that I can make that choice for myself, and so that I can protect Stella as much as I can until she is old enough to choose for herself.

Cosmetic Database

Storing it Away

2009-09-16T18:23:00.000-07:00

I am trying to make myself remember these perfect times with my new daughter. I am often torn between just absorbing the moment with her doing something ridiculously precious, and running to grab the video/camera and watching it through a screen, but capturing it for all time.

As I recently told someone in an email, Firecracker has all but told us outright that sleeping at night is not her thing anymore. Yes, during the day she takes great naps, but only on me (in the Moby). And yes, she sleeps for a couple of hours at a time at night, but only next to me (and she does a lot of endless writhing routing even when full, keeping me up. Breastfeeding co-sleeping moms, you feel me, right?). But last night, she would only sleep on me (as in the Moby). So I "slept" - yes - sitting up, something I haven't done since I suffered from heartburn during late pregnancy. And yes, I'm starting to believe that the late stages of pregnancy are indeed preparation for the early stages of motherhood, except that there's really nothing that can actually prepare you for this kind of sleep deprivation.

But, when she awoke this morning, she stretched and yawned and stretched and made crazy animal noises and yawned until her eyes met mine and she broke into a huge smile, kicking her feet in excitement and flirtation. Nothing. NOTHING. Makes my heart feel the way it does when she looks at me like that.

Of late, I am reminded of my long-time absolute favorite poem, one that I always related to how I feel about my partner. But it has an even deeper meaning to me now, something I didn't know possible.

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

E.E. Cummings

Clarification

2009-09-14T18:57:00.000-07:00

I have been meaning to follow-up my last post with a comment, but I'm doing it later than I wanted to (I blame my child :)

While no one is accusing me of this at all, I just wanted to let friends and family know that my last post was in no way intended as a slap. In fact, I meant to write about how I understand that people don't always know how to react to death and how to bring it up, especially when it seems someone may have moved on and may not want to be reminded. I meant to say that I totally understand these intentions and that I blame no one. I think more than anything, I was exercising my true emotions in preparation for my group. I meant to say that I actually think it's interesting how it's all played out with people close to me, and how I've been able to learn a lesson that you just can't learn unless you lose someone (unfortunately). It's not a lesson I would wish on anyone . I'm glad most people don't exactly know how to react because it means that they've suffered a loss - not something I want for them at all.

And so I offer an apology for the way I came across and didn't intend to. My friends and family are what got me through this terrible mess. I don't feel abandoned in any way. I feel like people are afraid to ask and I don't blame them (I meant to say that, too). But after some comments and emails I've gotten, at least now I know that people haven't forgotten. I love you all and I appreciate your continued love and support.

A Thousand Splendid Suns

2009-09-11T13:56:00.000-07:00

My daughter has reclaimed Tuesdays. Since December 30th, I had associated Tuesdays (especially mornings) with losing my mother. Then Stella came along and was born on a Tuesday (barely).

Since she was born, I have not been back to my grief support group for motherless daughters. I am finally going next week, and not a moment too soon. I didn't stop going because I stopped needing it - it's the opposite of that. I need it more than ever. I've just not been sure how to manage a baby, and to disappear physically and emotionally into a group for 1.5hrs. More than that, however, I was not sure I could handle publicly what I've been struggling with internally.

Where would I even begin. With the 5-10 minutes or so that we each have to speak, I feel that maybe I would cover just some of my emotions associated with just the birth itself and the lack of her presence. That would be without mentioning the entirely different weight that motherhood brought upon me because of a sudden understanding and empathy I have for her life - and all too late. That would exclude the sheer horror I relive everyday, picturing how she must have felt when she lost custody of both of her children - something I couldn't really relate to before. That would exclude the terror that visits me every night when I can't get an image out of my head of her taking her last breath, fighting for air - not being able to call out for help. That excludes the times that I look at my daughter in disbelief at the similarity she has to me as a baby, now knowing the unmatched joy my mother experienced when she gazed upon me in those early weeks of my life. That excludes the desperate feelings I have when I want to call her and ask her questions about how she felt about one thing or another during this point in motherhood - how she dealt with the sudden shifts and challenges of being a new mother. How she dealt with colic. I picture the stories people told me at her funeral about how they used to rock miles in a rocking chair trying to get me to quit crying and that I would never stop. Did I also cry it out in a crib at night? What eventually happened or changed? How did she get through it? How different the feeling is that my mother's not just unavailable to ask or just not home, but that she's dead. And that I'll NEVER. Know.

I recently read a novel about two different women growing up in war-ridden Afghanistan - two women that didn't know each other but that come together after tragedy strikes their lives in different ways. The book was so incredibly well written that I felt every single twinge of emotion associated with each character. When I'd shut the book or would be interrupted by my baby crying or falling off my breast (I was often passing the breastfeeding time when I read - when else would I read?), that I would be shaken into reality after being lost somewhere deep in Kabul. But more than that, these women both had mothers that reminded me exactly of mine, and they both lost their mothers (in different ways). In case you ever read this book (which I hope you do), I won't relay the similarities or give more of the story away. But I will say that these women experience the same awakening and reckoning regarding their mothers that I have experienced - only able to understand things their mothers went through as they started to go through those things themselves. Feeling guilty, selfish and so un-empathetic for the things they couldn't have possibly understood about their mothers as girls.

I did not expect to relate to the characters in this novel in any way. I have not suffered the hardships of war or abuse or hopelessness the way these women had, and yet I could relate. And I was not ready to relate like that - I was taken completely off guard. At several points during the book, my mouth would drop open in disbelief at how accurately these particular emotions were described - emotions I had never seen in print nor had heard uttered, and yet they were my feelings exactly, laid out right there in front of me on a page. And I thought it so strange that I had not read a book from cover-to-cover like that in a long time (except for pregnancy books), and yet I randomly picked that book to read (and couldn't put it down). Because it was a hardback book, it had no description on the cover, and yet I picked it to read anyway without having any idea of what it was about.

No matter the decade, the race, the country, the socio-economic status - I believe that women can relate to each other over losing our mothers more than they can relate about almost anything else. Even if the relationships with our mothers differ from each other (good, bad), there's just a certain understanding that ensues - a certain emotion that takes over no matter the previous emotions. And though I can't speak for sure, I think it's probably different regarding women losing their fathers. Maybe women share similar emotions to each other when they experience the loss of a child. God help me, I hope I never know. But that might also be something that completely spans the kind of relationship that existed - you just want to die when it happens no matter what.

This is why I won't go the rest of this month without facing my pain head-on with the women who can support me most. I tried it without them and it doesn't work. They don't take the pain away by any means, but they listen in a way that says it all. When they nod their heads, there is an understanding that's communicated that isn't there when others nod their heads as they listen. While everyone means well, only someone that's lost their mother can truly know. It perplexes me that it means so much to be understood. Why does a roomful of simple nods mean so much when you've endured loss? It seems that general empathy from people who care about me should be enough, but it's just not.

It's also the case that, simply put, no one has asked me how I'm doing regarding my mother's death since my baby was born. No one. While people have commented that they hadn't asked because they didn't want to bring it up, they still didn't ask. Is that truly what I need, to be asked how I am? I guess I don't know since it hasn't happened. But there is one place where I know it will happen.

First Shot :(

2009-09-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

Stella endured her first shot yesterday, and she took it like a total champ - much better than I did. On the way to the pediatrician, I literally cried when I pictured the actual shot and the pain she would face and not understand. I nursed her during the shot to try and comfort her and keep her screaming to a minimum, but like the nurse warned, it didn't work. She was happily suckling, and as soon as she felt the stick, her mouth opened as wide as it could and a huge wail escaped her throat. But then only normal crying ensued, and not even for very long at all. We certainly deal with much, MUCH worse crying fits at home due to colic or reflux or whatever it is that dominates every single evening from 5pm-midnight.

Just to be fair, her parents also endured a flu shot on the same visit (what a very convenient courtesy our pediatrician provides for a small price!). We were not planning on receiving flu shots at all because we never get them, but as it was pointed out to us, it's different when you have a baby. We don't want to be responsible for passing on the flu to her, especially since she cannot get a flu shot of her own and cases of swine flu are already being seen in our pediatrician's office. We were glad to know that we could take it instead of her!

Stella also received her first written prescription for heartburn medication. As I have blogged before, she seems to be suffering from pretty severe heartburn that is consistent and persistent every evening. I absolutely detest using prescription drugs when other more natural options haven't been exhausted, especially with children. That is why we have been using the homeopathic and harmless over-the-counter remedies that have been recommended. But they haven't been working, and more than I hate prescription drugs, I hate seeing my daughter in constant pain. If it will bring some relief to her, I feel like we owe her that much.

We have not filled the prescription yet because I want to do my own research on the side affects, and anything else I can find about it. Then we'll see...

Daddy comforts her after the shot

On the way home from the "dumb shot!"...

Back home and back to playin'

8 Weeks

2009-08-31T19:00:00.000-07:00

Firecracker has made it to eight weeks. People with kids talk a lot about "well, when she's six weeks or eight weeks...", and then they have words of wisdom about some big transition they'll experience. But her transitions haven't been that cut-and-dry to me, and I certainly can't equate them with a particular week. The first couple of weeks were the most different of all, just like "they" say. She slept all the time to the point where I had to wake her every two-three hours to eat. And she slept pretty much anywhere you'd let her. All of that is different now, starting with the fact that she won't sleep anywhere but right next to us or literally on us.

Now she takes short little naps throughout the day, and I'd say longer "naps" at night. Now she wakes up like clockwork every 2-3 hours to eat and be changed, and in the middle of the night, I can mostly get her to nuzzle-in and go back to sleep after she eats. Sometimes she starts her day at 6am, and sometimes we can go back down for an hour or two. And if it's been a really long night, sometimes we go back down yet again and stay asleep until 11am. These are the nights when she doesn't go back down as easily between feedings and we are up for longer periods. Mind you, I am always up for longer periods between feedings because once she starts to drift off, my job is to pat, kiss and rock until she's in a deeper sleep so that I can then sleep myself. Otherwise, she wakes up right away and we have to start over.

Something else that changed right after two weeks were our quiet evenings with a sleepy baby. Not only did she start to wake up a lot more than when she was first born (totally expected), but she spends most of her time between 5pm and midnight crying. At first, I thought this might be kind of a normal new baby-thing. But soon we learned to better read her cues and could tell that she was agitated, grimacing and very unhappy. I remember yelling out to Erik one night over her cries, "Is this what colic is???!" Sure enough, I think we have a "colickie" baby. When I ask and observe other mommy friends with babies the same age, they say their babies don't do this. They happily make dinner and watch movies together at night while their baby coos on a nearby blanket or in a swing. Not only does Firecracker not let us put her down, but she would never hangout cooing in a swing long enough for us to watch a movie and eat dinner!

After several straight days of it starting at 5pm and going all night, I started a typical Google adventure for diagnosis, and I read many posts from other mom's that called this the "witching hour" - basically when your baby screams from 5-midnight for "no reason". I think she is one of "these" babies, but I don't think it's for no reason. We can hear lots of activity in her belly, and she seems to find relief when we massage her belly and keep her in upright positions. She absolutely will not tolerate a cradle hold (the most precious hold that everyone wants to share with their baby...), and I think it's because of residual reflux and/or burning from spitting up and having general baby indigestion. She has a pediatrician appointment in a few days, so we will revisit the issue. Their advice last time was to try Gripe Water.

Let me tell you a little story about how we almost killed our baby with Gripe Water.

Gripe Water is a supposed remedy for babies with colic. "Sounds good. Whatever - we'll try it". So one night Erik is giving her a dose of it when she spits it all out. He asks me to go refill the eye dropper with more from the bottle on the counter. So once I give it to him, I go back to the bottle to double-check the directions and close it up when I realize that it's not Gripe Water - it's cod liver oil. I ask you, how many small cobalt blue glass bottles do you have in your refrigerator? Well, we apparently have two.

After a mini freakout, we calmly call the pediatrician after-hours line, and the nurse is nice enough to do a three-way call with us to Poison Control. While cod liver oil sounds harmless enough, it is toxic if given over a certain amount because of the high levels of Vitamin A and D, things a baby can't handle in high doses. Because we hadn't given it to her two days in a row (and she spit-up the first batch), they assumed she'd be OK, and they gave us a list of things for which to watch out - otherwise it would have been off to the ER to have a tube put down her throat into her belly! As we were on the phone with them and she was lying on the bed, she drifted off to asleep, and Erik asked in his panicy voice, "Is it OK if she goes to sleep??". They said yes. But since she NEVER just goes to sleep like that, we were freaked. I'm wondering how old she has to be to have another dose of it... :)

So nights are hard to say the least. We spend the evening trading her off, back and forth, trying all of our tricks and then handing her off to the other parent when our tricks fail. We spend A LOT of time walking up and down the street (the hot and sticky night air sometimes distracts her). Once she finally goes down, that is usually my cue to go down too so that I get a head start on the sleep I won't get later. So essentially, there's not a lot of time for us as a couple, but we still steal kisses and smiles in between the cries, and we always eat dinner together, even if one of us is pacing around with the baby while the other cuts up the foods and feeds us both.

There is one exception to all of this, however. Company. If we have a house full of company or if we are at a party or something, she will sit in the sling or the Moby Wrap and sleep for hours. "What a good baby you have!", people gasp. "Thank you", we say politely.

It breaks our hearts that she struggles at night - it really does hurt to watch your child go through this. So we're particularly happy when she enjoys her days (though she struggles with gas a lot then, too). Hopefully we'll see some of this "8 week" magic about which we keep hearing, when their intestines start to settle down and develop more fully. Until then, we'll comfort her cries and adore the rest.

Oh, did I mention she started smiling on purpose (not just in her sleep)?? Soooo sweet.

"I like to scratch myself."

An anomoly - she's sleeping somewhere other than on us...

Her usual place in the bed, right next to Mama.

Rise and shine, Rosebud :)

Sportin' our sling. She loves it...NOT! Look at that face!

The expression of tolerance.

Except when Daddy does it (show off).

But we love the Moby - that's for sure.

See?

But nothin' beats sleepin' on the parental units.

New Website

2009-08-27T18:43:00.001-07:00

Thank you to everyone that sent me helpful advice and suggestions after my last post. Since I did not tackle it this week, my goal is to get on top of some of the suggestions next week when Erik can accompany me to an appointment or two so that he can hold the ever-squirming Stella!

In other news, my brilliant husband quickly created a website for us to post our pictures (since we don't use Shutterfly or anything like that). We aren't that great at updating it yet, but we're working on it - check it out (but read the next paragraph first)!

http://thesummerfields.org/

It's an RSS feed, so you can receive it, and there are a couple of options as to what you can receive. If you click on the RSS tab, that's where you can choose. If you pick "Everything RSS", you will get both our blogs and all the pics from the website. If you are already subscribed to our blogs and would rather just see the pics, you can do "This Site Only RSS". Or you can just come view it the old fashioned way :)

http://thesummerfields.org/

Pain

2009-08-18T01:23:00.000-07:00

While motherhood has been the joy of my life, I'm quietly suffering from pain that is compromising my sanity at times.

From the day Stella was born, I've had a dull, low-grade headache that doesn't go away and gets 100 times worse when I nurse. Is it dehydration? Am I having lactation headaches? I don't know, but I traded in the unbearable nipple pain at the beginning of our nursing career together for a forever-headache.

And now my hip pain has also returned. I have had chronic hip pain for around 10 years now, something that no one is able to figure out. I've seen Dr's, I've had physical therapy several times a week for long stretches, and I even gave up gluten (and other things) for almost the entire year before Stella was born. While the pain may have lessoned during my gluten-free time, it's hard to know why because I was also exercising a lot less due to house hunting at night, etc. It's also hard to tell if my next assessment is accurate due to all the things going on in my life at the time, but it seems that my hip pain was drastically less during pregnancy. While it was still very much there, I could "tailor sit" and handle other positions that I could never do before. During a time when all my other joints ached and moaned with the ever growing weight of the baby, my hips endured like champs.

Unfortunately it's time to start over with the exploration of its cause. I once thought it was the asthma medication I was on, but I gave that up when I went gluten-free. I started eating gluten again when I got pregnant (because it's in everything you want when you're pregnant), and I can't fully say I noticed the difference. And to give up GLUTEN, I need to notice the difference - it's just too much work for a "maybe". After $100's in fees for consultations with nutritionists to handle it the natural way, I am back at square one, disappointed, discouraged and most of all, in pain. I still want to handle this the natural way. I've been on miracle arthritis and anti-inflammatory drugs that made me sing with joy, but they also covered up a pain that I knew was getting worse under all of the meds. I don't want to trade in my hip pain for a heart attack one day from these crazy drugs! I want to know what the problem is.

Where to start. Do I go see my GP so that she can refer me to have X-rays and then tell me to take drugs I don't want (paying for all of this stuff in the meantime)? Do I go see a naturopath and begin to invest in a long process of herbal and homeopathic remedies? Do I try acupuncture just to find out that it works but that I have to go every week and pay almost $100 a pop? Or do a see a chiropractor?

I'm incredibly fortunate that I have health insurance unlike millions of people in this country - I'm fortunate to have a choice at all. I never lose site of that. But the years of pain sometimes converge on me in the middle of the night when I'm lying on my side (my hips), nursing, sleep deprived and with a headache, and I just want it to go away. Thankfully, I have accepted that I at least need to take something for my headaches - there is now a big bottle of Tylenol next to my bed. As for the hips...

Mainly, I want to be able to easily get down on the floor and play with my daughter. I don't want to wince every time I lower my body or when I get up out of a chair. At this point, my grimaces go unnoticed by me, but other people can't help but ask if I'm OK because I look worse than their grandmother. The long journey of questions will begin again so that I'm not in a wheelchair at 50.

In other news, the joy of my life:

("Thanks, Beth and Brock, for my favorite (and only) floor-time toy"!)

Holy $@%! It's already been 1 month...

2009-07-31T15:30:00.000-07:00

As the days pass so fast, things happen that I feel should be noted "for the record" (or the baby book), but I completely forget to write them down and then I completely forget what they are. For the sake of keeping a very embarrassing record of Stella's first weeks, I'll at least share the few things that stick out.

Projectile Poop. I am totally not exaggerating. I've heard about the geyser-like pee that baby boys can often deliver, but I've never seen poop shoot out of a human being like this. Erik and I could both win awards for the looks we give each other when it happens. On many occasions, Stella has shot poo straight into the air and has successfully hit one of us with it. Then we look at each other in disbelief, and suddenly...we hear the noise again...and we barely move in time to watch it go flying by. This kid has quite the aim. Our friends witnessed the same thing the other day but with her projectile spit-up. No kidding, folks - 2 inches into the air! We change clothes a lot around here...

I hear two descriptions the most when people talk about life with a new born. Either they describe it as a "cake walk" because newborns sleep so much, or it's "very challenging" because newborns don't sleep at night. But I think many would agree that it's probably a strong combination of both.

Stella has passed that first-two-week period where all she did was sleep and I was literally waking her up every 2-3 hours to eat, even all night. But then, as babies do after two weeks, she started to wake up much more, and that's when the guessing game really began. Before, not sleeping and breastfeeding were the biggest challenges. But blissed-out hormones somehow carried me through. Those same challenges stuck around, but little things were added to it everyday. For instance, as she started to wake up more, she also cried more about...?? That's the challenge - we never know. We go through the list of things that could possibly be wrong, and when we don't figure it out, we start all over again and pray that something's changed. Is she hungry? Dirty diaper? Gas? Diaper too tight? Does she need a change of scenery? Is something poking her? Is she cold? Too hot? "No" to all of those? OK...well... Is she hungry now...?

Also, as she is now more awake, she really only wants to be close to us, and by "close", I mean "on" us. She likes the warmth of our bodies, she likes hearing/feeling our heartbeats. And really, I'd have it no other way. We ALWAYS hold her with the slight exception of putting her in the "bouncy chair". But she screams anytime we put her down, and she is no longer sleeping well anywhere but right next to me (like touching me). I dare not complain about this precious time in our lives because I know it won't last. But I'm also trying to keep an accurate record of what life is really like right now.

Mainly, it's hard sometimes when, say, you have to pee, or do dishes, or make food, put clothes on, or any of the stuff you once did without thinking about it. So I've learned to do those things in half the time it used to take. I put her in the bouncy seat for a few minutes and brush my teeth and pee in record time, finishing just as she starts to fuss or spit-up. Or I bring the bouncy seat from it's place in the bathroom to it's second home in the kitchen while I rush to throw a sandwich together for Erik, hoping I can finish mine, as well. The real plan was to be able to wear her in a sling for these things, but so far, she won't do the sling for more than 5 minutes. I think that might have to do with our (the parents) learning curve... But I will never give up trying - the sling is truly my ticket to staying productive and being the kind of parent I want to be (one that responds to every cry).

Erik has again proven how amazing he is. He doesn't hesitate to help me at night, waking up at all hours to change diapers and maybe start a load of laundry while he's at it (yes, at like 3am!). He offers to take her in the evening after work so that I can catch a nap. Even though he's working, if he sees that she's sleeping and I am getting some much needed housework done, he'll make lunch for both of us. Erik is an amazing dad. He carries Stella around as she screams out and fusses, singing every song he knows, doing the footwork of our swingdance moves. Sometimes she'll relent, resolving to be quietly alert while staring at the Daddyman, or drifting off to sleep. And sometimes hours of trying to console her just ends in a disappointing hand-off to me for the boob. I only say disappointing because he feels bad when he can't console her. But even though she may have cried all the while, I know she was consoled and conforted on her dad's chest. We may not always know what's wrong, but we'll always listen and try to figure it out, never leaving her alone to deal with it.

When I have her in my arms (and even when I don't), I can't stop gazing at her, studying every detail. Every sound she makes pulls huge emotion out of me. Her funny faces create genuine belly laughs, and her grimaces and screams make tears form in my eyes. She purses her lips together and makes faces that resemble a turtle or little bird, and I think I can't hold back the hardest squeeze I've ever given anyone - just too cute. When we lay in bed awake when most everyone else is sleeping, I sing to her as she nurses, and I smooth her eyebrows to relax her forehead. I adore her feet with my free hand, I savor every breath I can feel her taking as she lays on me, and I smell her sweet baby breath (and it smells so sweet - literally like sweet air).

While the romance between us never stops, sometimes I am a little less "romantic" on the nights where we are up a lot more. I summon the help from my bedside latenight radio show, I play Sudoku on my phone...in fact, I do everything on my phone: check email (though I can't reply because I only have one hand), search for things on the Internet (like is it safe to take stool softeners for 4 weeks straight...?), and now I'm on the search for a book light so that I can read treasured fiction again. After a year of reading only pregnancy and baby books, I am finally ready to lose myself in a novel. My goal is to be excited about waking up 40 times during the night to read vs. being anxious about how little sleep I'm getting and how nuts I feel. I am immersed in a great novel now, something I've missed.

Mostly this time of life has been magical. Honestly, the adjustment has not been as hard as I thought it would be...I'm trying to have perspective - I know much harder days are coming! Sure I'm not back in the saddle, flying around town doing errands like I used to (actually, I haven't left the house at all by myself because her head still flops around in the car seat). And there's a lot more dirt on my floor and dishes in my sink than there has ever been. But I'm learning to be Zen about what I can't control, and to just embrace the new pace, the new list of priorities that top the ever-growing old list (yard work, organizing the garage, painting the house, etc.). Nowadays, I'm lucky to drip salsa on the floor and then be able to actually bend down and clean it up...

But the trade-off is completely worth it. I am happier than I've ever been. Even in my sleep-deprived state, I never fail to realize how fortunate I am to have my family and the opportunities I have. It is the greatest blessing for me to be able to stay at home with my daughter, not having to rush her to daycare in the morning on a routine that is completely not hers. Instead, we enjoy sleepy mornings together and take our time through the day with no other real plans but to clean-up and keep fed. I can't thank Erik enough for helping to make my dreams come true. Together, we raise this little girl without the stress of schedules or commutes, without pumping or bottle feeding, all because we are blessed with the opportunity to do so. I am fortunate, and I cherish every second.

All in a month:

Stop it, Mama...!

Middle of the night...sleepin' with Daddy

She is known for her funny faces...

Freeze...put your hands up!

Hands up!

OK, foot up, too!

"Excellent..."

First pediatrician visit...we didn't like that too much...

Take you drivin' in my car, car...

Big foot comin' at ya!

And big cheeks!

Middle of the night...again :)

"Tummy time on my special quilt made just for me!"

Keep those hands up!

Up!

Keep 'em up!

Amazing Daddy (and he bought ME flowers for being a good mommy... :)

Nappin' while Daddy works

First visit with Great Grandma Fahrenthold!

And today...one month old. Happy Birthday, Beautiful.

Steve

2009-07-27T15:49:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, standing in one of my favorite Austin bakery/coffee shops, I received some terrible news that I was not expecting.

Dave, who still works at Quacks after all these years (10+), told me that my beloved ex-boyfriend, Steve, had hung himself in May. Unaware, I was in the middle of telling Dave that the last time I saw Steve was a year ago when I came to Austin to look for a place to live. I called Steve up to see if he wanted to grab a beer and hang out after not having seen him since I moved away from Austin (like 8 years ago). We spent the evening on South Congress, shared some beers at the Continental Club and walked for hours back in the neighborhood in the middle of the night, philosophizing and talking about everything, critiquing recent books and movies, just like we used to do. We talked in low voices that seemed to hang in the heavy night air like a timeless period - as if we had gone back in time to the "good old days".

Except there was a difference: I had never seen him happier than he was that night. Things were going really well for him. He had an amazing apprenticeship doing tattoos and he had finally found a way to express himself after years of searching. He'd traveled, he'd been in and out of school, he'd worked at all the coffee shops, he painted and drew and wrote poetry, but now he knew what he wanted. While I still sensed hints of depression, and while he still referred to being lost and feeling out of sorts, I saw something in his eyes I hadn't seen before: Hope. Security. Confidence.

For the first time in years, I finally had his permanent number in my phone (I always had to call his family to track him down in the past while he was moving around so much). And I told him I would call him when I got back to Austin. Of course, I got pregnant the day I got here and lost my mom a couple months later, but I always intended to call him to have coffee, but "something" always came up. I am painfully learning the lesson that I need to call people when I think of them or I may never again have the chance.

I wanted to see his portfolio. I wanted to hear about the progress he was making. I wanted to catch-up on any drama-filled relationships he was having. I wanted to see his gentle smile and hear his deep and friendly voice. While he was an ex-boyfriend from long ago, he always meant so much to me. I knew I would always care very deeply about him and would always want to stay in touch. He was one of the most passionate people I had ever known, someone I was always proud to say that I knew. I am devastated that I never really told him that as a friend. He was a beautiful person. I can't believe he's gone.

Now I can't escape the flashbacks of our time together, back to the days I spent trying to catch his attention. I'd study in that coffee shop day after day, hoping he'd notice me as more than just a college girl that drinks too much coffee and studies too much (at the same place). I would coolly order my coffee from him (a cortado which I had learned to drink on my recent visit to Spain), and I would absorb the music he was playing and watch him banter with his coworker (Dave) behind the counter. All my friends knew where to find me: I'd be quietly chasing the hottest guy in town. Then one day, I got back to my table with my coffee and noticed it had a heart drawn into the foam. Then I looked up to find him standing there next to me, and he asked in his deep and amazing voice, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

From there, we shared some of the best days of my life. A young and passionate love affair that I will never forget. In our youngness, we discovered so much together and developed small pieces of ourselves that would either stay apart of us forever or vanish. He introduced me to so much that is still such a strong part of me to this day. I will always associate some things that I still love with him and our time together. I wish I could have told him that, too.

Steve, I was late to the game. I'm so sorry I missed you. I should have called. I wish I would have told you how special you are to me. You're one of the most talented people I've ever met. Your art leaves me without words. People are honored to wear your creations on their bodies until they die. Much like when I met you, I never stopped admiring you from afar. Your smile and gentle spirit will never, ever escape me. I will never forget it. I never have. I wish you could have seen the beauty inside of yourself. I hope you've found the peace for which you've been searching. Your beauty still lives on as you do in so many ways. You live on in the hearts of many, and on their bodies, too. And you will never leave my heart.

Video of Steve:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zrhu9ELIyzI

A Guest Book for Steve:
http://www.legacy.com/gb2/default.aspx?bookID=3625079481784

His Art:
http://www.stevegrosskopf.com/tattooalbum/index.html