Absolute perfection. The hair, the smiles, that dress.
They can do no wrong!
They can do no wrong!
Dear Ellie
1 month ago
October 14, 2011
October 13, 2011
In the Tunnel
Have you ever read something that put a lump in your throat immediately, that spoke to just what you were needing to hear? I just had one of those moments. Someone on Facebook posted a link that has changed my day.
The truth is, I'm in a tunnel. The last three weeks have been some of the hardest I've had as a parent.
Newborn exhaustion I understand. I seek to encourage friends with small babies - bring meals, send notes, write long emails answering questions about nursing and schedules and taking care of yourself amidst the very steep learning curve of those early weeks.
A month ago, I would have told you we'd hit a great stride as parents. We knew Mac well, we understood his needs, we had a successful routine and when we hit a roadblock, we figured out a way around it. Gold stars all around!
I suppose pride always comes before a fall, and the last three weeks have been a disastrous tumble. Mac, my sweet sleeper, has screamed through naptime eight of his last ten tries. He's not a child who can do without sleep, much like his mama, and has taken to screeching, "Mama where are you RIGHT NOW?" while I wonder exactly how miserable he'll be the rest of the day without his much-needed rest.
And "rest" is not what he's getting. He won't read, settle or even sit down for the duration. It's torture. We NEED that sleep - but more than anything I need not to hear and see my child so unhappy.
There's a lot being neglected in the meantime: work, the house, the Y, carefree chit-chat with friends, non-essential activities, a long to do list and, worst of all, my mental health.
Mix in Mac's birthday double ear infection, recovering from hand/foot/mouth, currently cutting four incisors and two school "holidays" and you'll find a schedule that's unrecognizable and a household that could use a serious do-over for the whole month so far.
Mac, ever the overachiever, has taken a flying leap into two-year-old behavior; our days must be two-thirds discipline and one-thirds waiting for discipline. I feel for him, as this must be difficult for him to understand, and I unabashedly feel for myself as we navigate new, pretty darn murky waters. Where did our obedient little guy go?
As many challenges have come these last few weeks, there have been just as many sweet moments. Fleeting moments, sure, but they give me a flash of the Mac I'm used to and it's a comfort. I remind myself that this is just a phase - because it is. (Right? Please!)
It's my job to be consistent, calm and loving to Mac in every season of his life. I can't expect him to work through unexpected emotions and make good decisions no matter his impulses unless I do the same. But this is tougher than I anticipated.
Hand me a breastfeeding problem, a baby with reflux, a nighttime routine in need of reshaping or a "when to start cereal?" question and I'm prepared(-ish). These new issues, though, have thrown me into a tailspin - and have me making the ultimate rookie mistake: feeling like there's no end in sight.
Just as I felt as a new mom, when I presumed "this" must just be what parenthood is, I can't see the bigger picture right now. I'm too entrenched in the "getting through" part to realize how quickly this stage, like every other, will pass.
This morning someone gave a name to my season: the Tunnel. The power of naming something can't be overstated; it's the very idea that someone else has been where you are, that it's real, that you aren't alone, that you're not crazy.
In addition to naming it, this post reminded me how different parenthood looks from just a few years away. I can already feel how swiftly the calendar is flipping past; we're nearly done with 2011 and I can barely believe we're past Easter. But that kind of perspective and reassurance from a mom who's been there, several times over in fact, is invaluable.
If you're a mom who's in the Tunnel of the first five years, when physical and emotional needs change constantly and you're wondering if the Lord has entrusted your sweet munchkins with a mother capable enough to cope, let me point you in this direction.
If you have a newborn and you want your hand held and your eyelids propped open, please call me. I'd love to encourage you.
If you've been squarely in the toddler tunnel, bouncing between gratitude for a healthy boy and a growing baby on the way and sheer panic about this is all going to work out, feel free to impart your wisdom on me. Or just excuse the circles under my eyes and four crumbled up Kleenexes in my hand at all times.
Wherever you are, "they" say every stage just gets better. I believe that, I do. I see the developments and I hear the new phrases every hour. I wouldn't go backwards for the world, but I'd sure love a little sunshine in our rainy week.
If you need some too, leta blogger who isn't throwing herself a pity party this mom encourage you today.
The good news: the Tunnel doesn't last forever. The bittersweet part: we'll miss being needed this much when it's all over. But that's another issue for another day.
Honorable mention: This post, for the "weary mother," has stuck with me all week. No matter what I'm facing, I'm reminded it's an act of worship to let the little children, including my own handsome, sleep-deprived, teething toddler, come to me.
Happy Thursday, friends. Thanks for being there!
*Disclaimer: Despite what might seem like a whine-fest, let me be quite clear that I'm tremendously thankful and in love with our little family. I wouldn't trade my Mac for the world, and I'm grateful for the sweet, silly big brother our baby girl will be getting. I would, however, love to get a brain transplant with a wise, more experienced, totally laidback and fully confident mom. And also I'd like a long nap. But I said I'd stop whining, so let's go back to the lovefest. Wouldn't trade my challenging, wild and utterly adorable little man, currently saying "So-ee, Mama" for a headbutt/nose kiss combo, for all the tea in Charleston. The end.*
The truth is, I'm in a tunnel. The last three weeks have been some of the hardest I've had as a parent.
Newborn exhaustion I understand. I seek to encourage friends with small babies - bring meals, send notes, write long emails answering questions about nursing and schedules and taking care of yourself amidst the very steep learning curve of those early weeks.
A month ago, I would have told you we'd hit a great stride as parents. We knew Mac well, we understood his needs, we had a successful routine and when we hit a roadblock, we figured out a way around it. Gold stars all around!
I suppose pride always comes before a fall, and the last three weeks have been a disastrous tumble. Mac, my sweet sleeper, has screamed through naptime eight of his last ten tries. He's not a child who can do without sleep, much like his mama, and has taken to screeching, "Mama where are you RIGHT NOW?" while I wonder exactly how miserable he'll be the rest of the day without his much-needed rest.
And "rest" is not what he's getting. He won't read, settle or even sit down for the duration. It's torture. We NEED that sleep - but more than anything I need not to hear and see my child so unhappy.
There's a lot being neglected in the meantime: work, the house, the Y, carefree chit-chat with friends, non-essential activities, a long to do list and, worst of all, my mental health.
Mix in Mac's birthday double ear infection, recovering from hand/foot/mouth, currently cutting four incisors and two school "holidays" and you'll find a schedule that's unrecognizable and a household that could use a serious do-over for the whole month so far.
Mac, ever the overachiever, has taken a flying leap into two-year-old behavior; our days must be two-thirds discipline and one-thirds waiting for discipline. I feel for him, as this must be difficult for him to understand, and I unabashedly feel for myself as we navigate new, pretty darn murky waters. Where did our obedient little guy go?
As many challenges have come these last few weeks, there have been just as many sweet moments. Fleeting moments, sure, but they give me a flash of the Mac I'm used to and it's a comfort. I remind myself that this is just a phase - because it is. (Right? Please!)
It's my job to be consistent, calm and loving to Mac in every season of his life. I can't expect him to work through unexpected emotions and make good decisions no matter his impulses unless I do the same. But this is tougher than I anticipated.
Hand me a breastfeeding problem, a baby with reflux, a nighttime routine in need of reshaping or a "when to start cereal?" question and I'm prepared(-ish). These new issues, though, have thrown me into a tailspin - and have me making the ultimate rookie mistake: feeling like there's no end in sight.
Just as I felt as a new mom, when I presumed "this" must just be what parenthood is, I can't see the bigger picture right now. I'm too entrenched in the "getting through" part to realize how quickly this stage, like every other, will pass.
This morning someone gave a name to my season: the Tunnel. The power of naming something can't be overstated; it's the very idea that someone else has been where you are, that it's real, that you aren't alone, that you're not crazy.
In addition to naming it, this post reminded me how different parenthood looks from just a few years away. I can already feel how swiftly the calendar is flipping past; we're nearly done with 2011 and I can barely believe we're past Easter. But that kind of perspective and reassurance from a mom who's been there, several times over in fact, is invaluable.
If you're a mom who's in the Tunnel of the first five years, when physical and emotional needs change constantly and you're wondering if the Lord has entrusted your sweet munchkins with a mother capable enough to cope, let me point you in this direction.
If you have a newborn and you want your hand held and your eyelids propped open, please call me. I'd love to encourage you.
If you've been squarely in the toddler tunnel, bouncing between gratitude for a healthy boy and a growing baby on the way and sheer panic about this is all going to work out, feel free to impart your wisdom on me. Or just excuse the circles under my eyes and four crumbled up Kleenexes in my hand at all times.
Wherever you are, "they" say every stage just gets better. I believe that, I do. I see the developments and I hear the new phrases every hour. I wouldn't go backwards for the world, but I'd sure love a little sunshine in our rainy week.
If you need some too, let
The good news: the Tunnel doesn't last forever. The bittersweet part: we'll miss being needed this much when it's all over. But that's another issue for another day.
Honorable mention: This post, for the "weary mother," has stuck with me all week. No matter what I'm facing, I'm reminded it's an act of worship to let the little children, including my own handsome, sleep-deprived, teething toddler, come to me.
Happy Thursday, friends. Thanks for being there!
*Disclaimer: Despite what might seem like a whine-fest, let me be quite clear that I'm tremendously thankful and in love with our little family. I wouldn't trade my Mac for the world, and I'm grateful for the sweet, silly big brother our baby girl will be getting. I would, however, love to get a brain transplant with a wise, more experienced, totally laidback and fully confident mom. And also I'd like a long nap. But I said I'd stop whining, so let's go back to the lovefest. Wouldn't trade my challenging, wild and utterly adorable little man, currently saying "So-ee, Mama" for a headbutt/nose kiss combo, for all the tea in Charleston. The end.*
October 10, 2011
Coming Home to Clemson
Saturday the boys and I went to Tigertown to celebrate Clemson's Homecoming.
We were so looking forward to showing our little man around campus, enjoying the floats and catching up with friends. Mac was mostly excited about the "cook-ghees."
This picture was taken two seconds after we arrived; he refused to stop eating even to smile. A boy after my own heart!
Mac has been to one other Clemson game, last year's Homecoming. (The rest of the games his grandparents are more than happy to keep him company while we cheer on our Tigers.) He's grown a little since last year, though, and is past his "nap in the stroller" days.
What a baby! Homecoming 2010
This year, he rode to our tailgate in a "wed gagon" filled with food, books, toddler gear and a 35-pound chunk of a boy. He got more than a few second glances strolling downtown in this get-up!
Despite how it appears here, the boy didn't sit still. We had tickets, as well as high hopes of taking him into Death Valley for his first game, but it was not to be. He wouldn't stay in one spot for a millisecond, so I knew bringing him into a crowd of 80,000-plus would be a sticky situation.
Mac loved the floats, especially the giant "tactor" on Bowman Field. I loved the nostalgia of walking through campus and remembering long nights spent pomping the floats (or bringing cookies to the boys who were actually doing the work, to be honest) and not requiring caffeine to stay up after 11pm.
If you want to feel old, walk around campus pregnant with your toddler and husband. Smile at the pretty freshmen and remind yourself that you wouldn't trade places. (Because you wouldn't.)
We ended the day much like we started it: rolling across campus - this time without a nap and with fewer cookies on board.
While we didn't get to make it inside to cheer on the Tigers, we were happy to get another victory and a day spent in one of our favorite places!
We were so looking forward to showing our little man around campus, enjoying the floats and catching up with friends. Mac was mostly excited about the "cook-ghees."
This picture was taken two seconds after we arrived; he refused to stop eating even to smile. A boy after my own heart!
Mac has been to one other Clemson game, last year's Homecoming. (The rest of the games his grandparents are more than happy to keep him company while we cheer on our Tigers.) He's grown a little since last year, though, and is past his "nap in the stroller" days.What a baby! Homecoming 2010
Despite how it appears here, the boy didn't sit still. We had tickets, as well as high hopes of taking him into Death Valley for his first game, but it was not to be. He wouldn't stay in one spot for a millisecond, so I knew bringing him into a crowd of 80,000-plus would be a sticky situation.
Mac loved the floats, especially the giant "tactor" on Bowman Field. I loved the nostalgia of walking through campus and remembering long nights spent pomping the floats (or bringing cookies to the boys who were actually doing the work, to be honest) and not requiring caffeine to stay up after 11pm.
If you want to feel old, walk around campus pregnant with your toddler and husband. Smile at the pretty freshmen and remind yourself that you wouldn't trade places. (Because you wouldn't.)
We ended the day much like we started it: rolling across campus - this time without a nap and with fewer cookies on board.While we didn't get to make it inside to cheer on the Tigers, we were happy to get another victory and a day spent in one of our favorite places!
October 9, 2011
You at Two
Dear Mac,
Last week you turned two; already I can sense a definite shift in you. It sounds crazy, I'm sure, but you're just more two. More independent, more verbal, more opinionated, more sure of yourself. You're a whole new boy.
A few things I'll always want to remember about your birthday and you at this sweet, new age:
Eating "bird-day finch toast" with you and your daddy yesterday.
Watching you use the honey (I didn't give you syrup; you're sweet enough) as a hair product and a breakfast topping.
Taking you for a "birthday haircut" - anything becomes celebratory with the word "birthday" in front of it!
"Melmo get bird-day haircut, Mama!"Helping you open the presents that arrived on our doorstep during your nap. Lights and music and Elmo, oh my!
Hearing you pick up new phrases and sentences in an instant.
Listening to you recount your day and marveling at what's in that brain of yours.
Glancing around at the cards and gifts surrounding you and thinking I can't wait for you to write your own thank you notes. But I can wait for you to grow up...
You do so many sweet and funny things, Mac. I could write for ages about the times you have us in stitches, or the times we have to bite our lips to keep from grinning when it's time to be serious with you. That's another post for another day, though.
For now, I want to remember how willful and smart and independent you were on the very day you turned two. You got the memo, you moved from baby to boy and you left us all scrambling to catch up. So slow down, ok?
And be proud that this year your mom didn't cry! I'm far too proud to be sad about time flying.
We love love love you, little man.
October 4, 2011
Celebrating Early
Mac "hosted" playgroup yesterday with a table full of healthy treats complemented by the world's largest dish of banana pudding, courtesy of his great-grandmother. (I purposely didn't share forgot to put it out at his party.)
You can imagine which snack he was most interested in and how much of it he consumed. Fruit+dairy+homemade = healthy, yes?
In the spirit of "keeping it real," I present to you a bedheaded, messy-faced, crumb-covered, nap-skipping, punch drunk and giddy-for-his-own-birthday Mac.
He has been singing Happy Birthday to himself for the better part of four days. What will he do tomorrow when it's his actual birthday?
I don't know that he could muster up anymore enthusiasm than he does here, despite the fact that he's running on fumes. (See: exhausted face, bursts of energy, crazy demeanor and the fact that, midway, he stops to say, "Cheese!" after just realizing I am filming him.)
You can imagine which snack he was most interested in and how much of it he consumed. Fruit+dairy+homemade = healthy, yes?
In the spirit of "keeping it real," I present to you a bedheaded, messy-faced, crumb-covered, nap-skipping, punch drunk and giddy-for-his-own-birthday Mac.
He has been singing Happy Birthday to himself for the better part of four days. What will he do tomorrow when it's his actual birthday?
I don't know that he could muster up anymore enthusiasm than he does here, despite the fact that he's running on fumes. (See: exhausted face, bursts of energy, crazy demeanor and the fact that, midway, he stops to say, "Cheese!" after just realizing I am filming him.)
October 2, 2011
What a Weekend!
Last week was one of the hardest I can remember - but this weekend? This weekend made up for it a million times over. Can't wait to share pictures, details and some non-"woe are we" talk!
For now, I'm soaking up every last moment of the weekend that remains. (Probably forty-five minutes 'til I hit the hay, but still...)
Hope you all had a fabulous weekend, too!
September 28, 2011
The Week that Wasn't
I had a plan for this week: a thought-out, filled to the brim kinda plan. Every hour was accounted for and every day had achievable goals.
Sound nuts? Well, I knew this week would be nuts. We're finishing up house projects before Mac's party Saturday and preparing for the celebration itself. I also had a busy work week ahead with an extra (fun!) project on my plate.
Then Mac got fussy on Sunday. And feverish Sunday night. And refused to be put down for hours at a time. He wanted our arms around him at all times, our faces right next to him. Our sweet boy just wasn't himself.
Monday morning we found out why: In addition to cutting four canine teeth, he has an ear infection and hand, foot and mouth disease. We came home with a prescription to treat the ear infection and were told that only Tylenol and time could cure the rest.
By Tuesday afternoon Mac was so much worse that B took him back to the doctor for a stronger antibiotic and another look. Sure enough, the HFM had become the worst the doctor had seen in years - red bumps all over his sweet body. Miserable spots down into his throat and all over the inside of his mouth. And a double ear infection on top of everything.
B rarely takes Mac to the doctor; that's my gig. I, however, was at home curled up in bed with a bottle of Gatorade in one hand and some ginger ale in the other. It hasn't been pretty. (Neither have I.) What a week - and it was only Tuesday.
Bradley took Mac outside to swing last night, as it was the only suggestion that managed a smile out of our unhappy boy. Sadly, ten minutes outside turned into four mosquito bites on his face, bites that have since become welts. WELTS. On top of everything. My boy can't catch a break.
Mac at the doc - and not nude, though it sure looks that way here!
He's old enough to tell me his mouth hurts, his ears hurt, his knee hurts. (That last part he's just making up to get kisses, but he's so pitiful I don't blame him.)
He's young enough to be clingier than Downy-less laundry. And at nearly 34 pounds, it's an act of sacrificial love to haul this handsome hunk of a mini-man around. But I'm doing it.
I'm also emailing and phone calling and to-do listing and eagerly counting down his return to school tomorrow and grandparents' arrival on Friday. We are ready to have extra hands on deck!
Boy oh boy, I had big plans for this week. Few items have made it to fruition, but I'm thankful for a husband who goes to the pharmacy for meds and comes home with ginger ale, Gatorade and a bag of candy corn for me. (I can't eat it quite yet, but just the sight of it makes me smile.)
And our second baby (wow that's crazy to say!) is just fine. My doctor assures me that a day of liquids only won't hurt her, and heaven knows I have enough fat in reserve to sustain this child through Labor Day 2015. They did ask me to refrain from kissing our infected little guy, but that warning came days too late.
The worst is over, I hope, and the contagious days are definitely behind us. I cringe thinking about the symptom-less days before he became sick when we spread our germs unknowingly all over town. Eep.
For now, forgive our radio silence in real life and in the blog world. I hope to return with some fun pre-birthday pictures later this week and some party fun after his shindig Saturday.
Funny how a small, simple and sweet get-together becomes quite an ordeal at the end of a week like this one. Even laying out a PB&J dinner for three would be a struggle at this moment.
I'm focusing on Lysol and staying germ-free 'til Mac blows out those candles. Red spots or no spots, the boy deserves to celebrate his second year with a bang.
Sound nuts? Well, I knew this week would be nuts. We're finishing up house projects before Mac's party Saturday and preparing for the celebration itself. I also had a busy work week ahead with an extra (fun!) project on my plate.
Then Mac got fussy on Sunday. And feverish Sunday night. And refused to be put down for hours at a time. He wanted our arms around him at all times, our faces right next to him. Our sweet boy just wasn't himself.
Monday morning we found out why: In addition to cutting four canine teeth, he has an ear infection and hand, foot and mouth disease. We came home with a prescription to treat the ear infection and were told that only Tylenol and time could cure the rest.
By Tuesday afternoon Mac was so much worse that B took him back to the doctor for a stronger antibiotic and another look. Sure enough, the HFM had become the worst the doctor had seen in years - red bumps all over his sweet body. Miserable spots down into his throat and all over the inside of his mouth. And a double ear infection on top of everything.
B rarely takes Mac to the doctor; that's my gig. I, however, was at home curled up in bed with a bottle of Gatorade in one hand and some ginger ale in the other. It hasn't been pretty. (Neither have I.) What a week - and it was only Tuesday.
Bradley took Mac outside to swing last night, as it was the only suggestion that managed a smile out of our unhappy boy. Sadly, ten minutes outside turned into four mosquito bites on his face, bites that have since become welts. WELTS. On top of everything. My boy can't catch a break.
Mac at the doc - and not nude, though it sure looks that way here! He's young enough to be clingier than Downy-less laundry. And at nearly 34 pounds, it's an act of sacrificial love to haul this handsome hunk of a mini-man around. But I'm doing it.
I'm also emailing and phone calling and to-do listing and eagerly counting down his return to school tomorrow and grandparents' arrival on Friday. We are ready to have extra hands on deck!
Boy oh boy, I had big plans for this week. Few items have made it to fruition, but I'm thankful for a husband who goes to the pharmacy for meds and comes home with ginger ale, Gatorade and a bag of candy corn for me. (I can't eat it quite yet, but just the sight of it makes me smile.)
And our second baby (wow that's crazy to say!) is just fine. My doctor assures me that a day of liquids only won't hurt her, and heaven knows I have enough fat in reserve to sustain this child through Labor Day 2015. They did ask me to refrain from kissing our infected little guy, but that warning came days too late.
The worst is over, I hope, and the contagious days are definitely behind us. I cringe thinking about the symptom-less days before he became sick when we spread our germs unknowingly all over town. Eep.
For now, forgive our radio silence in real life and in the blog world. I hope to return with some fun pre-birthday pictures later this week and some party fun after his shindig Saturday.
Funny how a small, simple and sweet get-together becomes quite an ordeal at the end of a week like this one. Even laying out a PB&J dinner for three would be a struggle at this moment.
I'm focusing on Lysol and staying germ-free 'til Mac blows out those candles. Red spots or no spots, the boy deserves to celebrate his second year with a bang.
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