Little Sister At Five Months

Oh, Emma Grace.

She is probably one of the sweetest, smiliest babies, ever. Seriously. I get comments from people all of the time about how rarely she cries and how much she smiles.

She does have a temper, though! If you don't feed her or snuggle her fast enough, you are going to hear about it. Keep her fed, happy, and well-rested, however, and it's smooth sailing.

Emma is an awesome sleeper for the most part. She takes at least one solid 2 - 3 hour (or even more!) nap a day and then another 1 - 2 hour nap. She is usually in bed by about 8:30 and sleeps until 7:00 or so. She did have about a week of rough sleep right around four months, but she also popped a tooth through that week and slept through immediately after it came through. Same thing happened a week ago; grumpy couple of nights with one or two wakeups, and then a tooth and back to sleeping through the next night. I can't complain in this department at all.

She doesn't sit still at all. She is much more of a mover and shaker than her brother was at this age. If you put her down, she'll roll around front to back, back to front, trying to get places. She is this close to sitting up on her own (she actually can and does sit independently for a few minutes at a time). She loves her jumparoo and exersaucer. She hasn't used the baby swing in well over a month. She loves rattles and things go directly from hand to mouth.

Speaking of her mouth, we kind of stalled with solids. We introduced rice cereal at the advice of her pediatrician to help with her spitting up. She liked it "okay" but she just wasn't as enthusiastic about it as Will was. A few days ago, we tried giving her some banana in one of those self-feeder/mesh-thingies and she loved it! So, she gets about a half a banana a day, plus some rice cereal mixed with prune juice.

She is starting to make more sounds and her laughter is still about the most amazing thing I have ever heard. Fortunately, she blessed me with hearing it very often.

All in all, I consider myself extremely fortunate. She is pretty easy as far as infants go and I could just gobble up her cute pudgy thighs and cheeks. And don't get me started on her clothes!

Big Brother At Five Months

When Emma was two months old, I wrote a post about Will's transition to being a big brother. I commended his sweetness and lack of jealousy. Though I knew rough waters could be ahead, it was smooth sailing at that point. A few of my commenters let me know about Sibing Rivalry: Phase Two (of Eleventy-Billion), which hits at about 5 - 6 months when the older sibling clues in that the newest family member is here to stay. As these commenters and friends are people that I trust and respect, I decided to enjoy the good times, but buckle up for the bad.

Well, here we are at five months. And I have to tell you, Will still exceeds my expectations as a big brother. He is amazing with his little sister.

He is protective. When other kids try to get in her business, he will run over and stand guard. He is okay if they look or touch very gently, but if they get too pushy or take a toy, he intervenes on her behalf. "My sister!" or "Emma's toy!" are his war cries as he swoops in to defend her, pushing a too-curious hand away from her face or recouping the toy and returning it to its rightful owner.

He is generous. Many a times, we have had to snatch a goldfish, lollipop, or other such yummy goodness right before it goes from his hand into her ol' mouth. Will likes to share his food and he is quick about it. We had many discussions with Will about how Emma only drinks milk, but then he got good and confused when we started solids. Oh, and we also told him many times that Emma couldn't eat XYZ because she doesn't have any teeth. Well, now he is good and confused because she has teeth! He also will bring her toys when he is playing, which is very sweet, but sometimes dangerous, as Matchbox cars from M's 1975 collection don't make good teethers.

He is a snuggle monster. He loves to "cuddle Emma," especially in his bed. This might be my favorite part of our days together and it's not just because it's right before nap or bedtime! I get my two little cherubs freshly diapered and into comfy sleep clothes and then pop them in Will's crib to read stories to them. They laugh, tickle each other, and generally have a rip-roaring good time. We are all laughing, nearly to tears, by the time I get through a rousing rendition of "The Belly Button Book".

Equally charming is how much Emma adores Will. She tracks him around the room with her eyes. Her eyes light up and her smile stretches to impossible proportions when he enters her line of sight. Watching how much they clearly love each other is so precious. I know there are many fights and "S/he hit me first/took my toys/ruined my life!" episodes ahead, so I am treasuring the amazing bond that is developing between them at the current time.

Now.

It's not all sunshine and roses here. What I have noticed lately is that he definitely has had a second round of jealousy. He is constantly asking for "up me" when I am taking Emma downstairs and cannot physically pick him up. He is going through a Mommy-phase where he prefers me to do things for him rather than M, which can be a challenge, especially at bedtime. He is two in every sense of the word with legendary tantrums that make me respect him for his tenacity and longevity, if not for the headeache these episodes leave me with. He is also just entering the dreaded "I do it meself!" which is already losing its luster.

But I am still so very proud of him. Being two isn't easy. There is so much to learn and do, so many feelings to process, so many adults telling him what he can and can't do. And he is doing a pretty stellar job of navigating this time in his life and being a pretty amazing brother on top of it all.

Oh my gosh. How I love these two little people. Their smiles make my world.

Merry, Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas, dear friends! Despite a touch of sadness this holiday season (in addition to Jack, we also have gotten some bad health news in our family and know two families also going through some serious, terminal illnesses), we have so much to be grateful for. The things that have happened recently have made me really take stock of what is important. It made the craziness of the holiday season seem a bit less important and bring to light what really matters.

Seeing Christmas through the eyes of our children is. . . amazing. I keep having to pinch myself that we have two sweet babies this year. I have visions of future Christmases just getting better and better. I truly have everything I ever wanted or needed this year. I am so lucky and thank God every day for all that we have been blessed with.

Last year, we were all sick (Will with croup, M with a horrid cold, and me with first trimester blech) and had to travel to my parents. Following our Merry Sickmas, we decided to "Take Back The Holiday" this year. It was received about as well as we could have expected. My parents and little brother came up last weekend, we'll see my sister and brother-in-law in the New Year, and we are headed to M's family for the day.

I can't tell you how much of a difference this has made for us. It was our first Christmas Eve at our home. I did miss my parents and the feeling of being around family, but (and this is a huge but) not having to pack, being able to sleep in our own beds, and having the experience of leaving out cookies and milk and seeing Will's face as he came downstairs to find his train table this morning more than made up for it. And we are still celebrating with everyone, so it's like the Christmas that keeps on coming!

We went to Christmas Eve services at our church (a first for us!) and then came home and made pizzas (vegan, gluten/sugar/dairy-free pizzas that are awesome, thankyouverymuch!) and watched The Polar Express. Each kid got to open a small present and then we did cookies and milk for Santa and carrots and an apple for the reindeer. After tubbies and a million (okay, maybe five) Christmas stories, we got the kids in bed by 8 PM and I wrapped some last gifts while M put together Will's train table. We even shared some champagne as we listened to Christmas Carols. I felt like a little kid again as we prepared for Christmas morning.

This morning, Will discovered that Santa had come. He was in awe of the empty plate of cookies and drained class of milk. The reindeer only left an apple core and a bit of carrot. Santa also had to move our fireplace screen to get out and forgot to put it back, so there was a lot of "evidence" of his arrival. And, ohmyword, Will loves his new train table. He is so funny, because he'll play with it, then do something else and come back into the playroom and gasp, "A TRAIN TABLE!" and get excited all over again.

We exchanged presents (Emma's first baby doll, a beautiful mothers' necklace for me, and an X-Box game for M were the highlights) and opened stockings, I made us breakfast, and we watched some Caillou's Holiday Movie. I've been cooking ever since, as we are bringing quite a few things for Christmas dinner (a salad, pappa al pomodoro (made with gluten-free bread), veggies and hummus, chips and guac). My MIL is very supportive of our new healthy eating plan, but I don't expect her to make us anything special. The soup smells amazing and I made enough for anyone to have some who might be interested. Yes, we are still going strong. M has lost 28 pounds and I am back in all of my pre-pregnancy pants. We are still enjoying the food so much that we have just decided to keep trucking along.

All in all, this has been a perfect Christmas and it's not over yet. I am so thankful for all that we have been blessed with and that we have been able to enjoy some time here at our home with our own little family. I hope that you are also having a wonderful holiday season.

Me Too

I don't talk much about religion on the good ol' blog. Mainly because it can be one of those divisive topics. I don't want to risk offending anyone and I also don't like it when the comment section blows up (which, fortunately, doesn't happen here very often).

So, to put it as simply as possible, we are Christians. We attend church on a semi-regular basis. I am part of a "growth group" through our church, which started last February. The moms and toddlers in that group have started to feel like family. Each of the lovely women in that group brought meals and offered childcare when Emma was born. I find church and my faith to be very comforting, especially during challenging times.

We pray with Will every night and have told him the Christmas Story. He loves nativities. I have a gorgeous nativity on our mantle and he will randomly run up to it and yell out, "Thank you, Jesus, for my family!"

The morning after Jack died, M and I were still in shock and I hadn't (gasp) done my usual research on what to say to Will if he asked where Jack was. We held our breath as Will came downstairs in the morning. Jack was very attached to him and followed him around to the very end, so we were expecting him to ask where his "shadow" was. To our suprise (and, frankly, relief) he didn't. He didn't ask all morning.

During his naptime, I finally got a chance to sit down and find out the appropriate things to say (and, possibly more importantly, what not to say) when discussing death with a toddler. It turns out that there aren't any hard and fast rules, but there were some very helpful suggestions. After nap, it finally happened. Will asked where Jack was.

M held him on his lap and I sat next to him and held his hand. We told him that Jack had died and that mean that he couldn't run, play, or bark anymore and that he wouldn't be coming home. We told him that Jack was with Jesus in heaven and although he missed us very much, he was very happy there. We told him that it was okay for him to be sad, to cry, to ask us any questions.

He seemed "okay" with this. He went off to play and we felt relieved that it was over. Fortunately, the websites also prepared us for the fact that toddlers will most likely ask for the missing loved one many, many times, as they really cannot grasp the finality of death. He didn't ask about Jack again until the next morning when we came downstairs and he asked me if Jesus was bringing Jack home today. It broke my heart to remind him that Jack can't ever come home. He sadly told me that he missed Jack and I told him that I missed him, too. He asked about a dozen more times that day if Jack was coming home.

My parents arrived Sunday and provided a welcome distraction (remember, they bring four dogs with them). Last night, my mom and I took Will for a Christmas Light Drive. We found a beautiful nativity scene and as we oohed and ahhed over it and pointed out Baby Jesus, Will all of a sudden got upset. It took me a minute to figure out that he was upset because he could see Baby Jesus, but Jack wasn't with him. I didn't exactly know how to explain that one. I told him that this wasn't the "real" Baby Jesus, that it was just a statue (he knows what statues are) and that the "real" Jesus lives in Heaven and that's where Jack is. He seemed to get it, but then he said, very sadly, "I wish Jack was here still, Mommy."

Me too, buddy. Me too.

On Grieving

I don't have the heart or energy to post about Days of Christmas right now. I'll do a recap in a few days.

Losing Jack has really hit me hard. But it has also caused me to treat our remaining animals better, so there is a hidden blessing even in tragedy.

Everywhere I turn, my little dog isn't there. He slept curled against my legs at night and I think it is there that I miss him the most.

His "remains" (how I detest that word) are waiting for us at the vet. I don't have the heart or energy to pick those up either.

I know that this is still a fresh wound, but I am already impatient with myself in this grief. I have felt the loss of a human at Christmastime (Gummy Bear in 2006). I realize that compared to what others are grappling with right now, this loss is so minor. So I try to buck up and move on. Sometimes, that is easier to do.

His collar is still in the basket in the front hall. I see it every time I leash Rocky to take him for a walk. I should probably put it away, but for some reason, I can't. I did vacuum up some fur that I knew was his. The finality of that action made me stand still and cry.

I did put his food dish away, but the empty place where it sat on the kitchen floor nags me. It just seems like the house is much more empty than usual all around.

I still "see" him, in the shadows of Will's bedroom, where he used to patiently wait for me to "rock rock" Will to sleep. I still "see" him on the rug, where he used to lie, waiting for me to get out of the shower. I still "see" him at the back door, when I just let the dogs out. I still "see" him many places, but he isn't really there. The permanence of loss is much harder to see.

I know there are greater and deeper losses than the loss of a pet. I know that. But it still hurts.

Jack

I'll catch up with the Days of Christmas in another post, but it's 2:34 in the morning, and no one is awake to talk to. Since my blog has always been the place I go to find comfort, I am here.

Just a few minutes ago, I hung up the phone with M. He's at the emergency vet with our dog, Jack, and we had to make the decision to put him to sleep. It really wasn't a tough decision, for which I am grateful. He apparently was practically in a diabetic coma (we didn't know he had diabetes and he has had regular vet care - not blaming our vet, just working my way through the "how could we have not known guilties") and had internal bleeding (no idea how that happened, either). He was pretty much dead by the time M got him to the vet. He had stopped breathing with me here at home and was pretty unresponsive. I tearfully said good-bye to him in our driveway and wished that I could go, too, just so M didn't have to do this alone. But with our babies sleeping upstairs, I went back inside and waited for the call.

His vitals were very poor and getting worse. Basically, if we didn't intervene, he would have died on his own. Our choices were: 3 - 4 days in intensive care and $8,000 - $12,000 in medical bills and no guarantees as to the outcome or to end his suffering. It wasn't really an option. And when M got home, he sadly told me that he was still signing the paperwork to have him put to sleep, when he actually passed away on his own. We are both sad that he was with strangers when he died.

We had a few scares with Jack along the way. He had pancreatitis twice. He had back problems that made him so sick that I thought he was a goner for sure. One time, he had a seizure in response to a medication for those problems, and I thought he had died. He was fine by the time we got him to the vet, which is less than five minutes from our house.

But things had been pretty calm for the last couple of years. I would teasingly say that he was going to live 'til 25. Tonight, he proved me wrong.

I have a lot of mixed feelings right now. Obviously, number one, I am sad. I also feel guilty. I haven't been the greatest pet owner for quite some time now. I am often overwhelmed between two dogs, one cat, and two kids under three. Jack was a lot of good things, but he was not an easy dog. When we picked him out at the humane society 11 years ago, the guy at the front desk told me that I didn't want him and that he was TROUBLE. I didn't listen.

We had him home for two days and he seemed like the Perfect Dog. Then, we left him alone to go to breakfast one morning. We returned home to find the apartment trashed. Seriously, it looked like a hurricane had come through. Our Perfect Dog was prancing around by our feet, eager to see us. We laughed, cleaned up the mess, and hoped it was a one-off. Nope. It was only the beginning.

Jack had separation anxiety. Dog trainers, obedience classes, and finally, a prescription for Clomicalm made it manageable, but it was still a daily challenge. When left alone, he would urinate and defecate on the carpet. Crating him wasn't really an option because he would go insane if caged. He could get out of any normal crate, so we had to get creative to contain him. While we could figure out a way to keep him in (by wrapping a thick chain around the bars of the crate), he would try to get out anyway and scrape his nose until it was swollen to twice its size, bleeding and raw.

We didn't have the heart to see that happen, so he had to stay in our garage while we were away. Despite weekly clean outs with bleach, soap, and water, I felt as if our garage always had a "doggy" odor from all of Jack's activities. It was frustrating to have guests over because he would bark the. entire. time he was in the garage. Recently, he had started having accidents in the house even when I was there and he'd just been out.

But.

He was my first "baby." He was our first major purchase together and a symbol of our early relationship. He was fiercely loyal. Most of his problems were because he just wanted to be with us. He had been abused before he came to us and it took him along time to really trust us. M was the only man he wasn't afraid of.

He caught many, many tears in his fur during our infertile and miscarriage years. He was my constant companion. He would lay on the rug in the bathroom while I took a bath. He never would go up to bed without me. No matter if I had just yelled at him for one of his many not-so-savory bad habits, he was always happy to see me and eager for a pat.

He was enchanted with Will when he was born and fiercely protective of him. Even now, when Will would wake from a nap and start calling for me, Jack led the way up to his room. If strangers came to the house, he would bark and was actually pretty intimidating, though he was a small dog.

I could go on and on about both his misadventures and the good times we shared. But there aren't really enough words to fully explain everything and how I feel. All I know is that the house is too quiet today and my world is minus one doggy heart that was filled with love. And my own heart is a bit broken.

On the Third Day of Christmas

First things first: here is our sweet little girl on Santa's Lap. . .

For today's event, we made Christmas Crowns (using stickers and tinsel as our decorations). My mom had mailed Will a Santa letter that arrived today, so this Santa got to take a day off. He loves getting mail, so that was kind of fun, but I sometimes don't think he "gets it". Of course, he is only two, so he has some time :).

We also went to a girlfriend's house for a yummy lunch and playtime. There might have even been mimosas for the mommies!

I have to say, this year is probably stacking up to be the most amazing Christmas I've had since I was a young child myself. Watching it through Will's eyes makes it so incredible. He is still experiencing the innocent joy of Christmas, the fun in the anticipation, but not really the gifts. I mean, he likes the gifts, don't get me wrong, but the whole thing isn't about them. I wonder how long that will last! Hopefully for awhile.