tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13362735981998768622024-03-12T22:29:18.279-04:00Chocolate is MY LIFEHere is where I used to document my attempts to train for marathons, ultramarathons, and triathlons. Now I chase my two toddlers, and occasionally fit in a run around working and sleeping. Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.comBlogger957125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-71533154609929185372020-05-12T23:14:00.000-04:002020-05-12T23:35:26.801-04:00My children are not biracial<span id="docs-internal-guid-58164f13-7fff-8adf-8ea4-468309f76108"></span><br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-58164f13-7fff-8adf-8ea4-468309f76108"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I ran my miles for Ahmaud Arbery last week, like most other runners. And I didn’t post about it. I didn’t say anything at all on social media. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Which is such a cowardly excuse. One I need to stop using. Because it’s not about me. If I do say the wrong thing, I hope people will tell me, and that will be an opportunity for me to learn. But that’s not the reason for me to post about race. It’s not about me and my feelings and my education. I know me making a social media post isn’t something that will change things for his case, one way or the other. But I need to establish now that I will not keep quiet about injustices because I feel uncomfortable. I’ve always been someone who shies away from confrontation, but I need to push myself to break away from that when it comes to confronting racism, because before long my children will be aware of it. They need to always see me as someone who will stand up for them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-35e4972e-7fff-cc45-74c6-00e799eb8fc1"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">In the spirit of doing things that make me uncomfortable, I’m going to share a story and part of an essay I wrote for a graduate class I took two years ago. I was asked to read it aloud to the class of 7 (everyone was asked to do this but we didn’t know ahead of time). This was 10 days before Remington was bored and I agonized between faking contractions and actually reading it to the class. I read it to the class. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was well received even, so I considered posting it on my blog. I’ve spent two years chickening out from doing so, because I was afraid of “messing up”. Offending family members. Not the family that I was born into, the family I married into, that has never been anything but warm and welcoming since day one. I was afraid of looking stupid. I still am, actually. I’ve had some revelations well into adulthood that things I’ve done have been racist. Unintentionally, of course, but that doesn’t change it. Things I’ve done even as recently as last year (which was seeing Gone with the Wind, which I have a whole other Ted talk type blog post in my head about). That’s hard to type. It’s going to be even harder to push publish. It’s embarrassing. Long ago, maybe even before this term was a thing, I considered myself “woke”. Now that I’m actually trying to learn what that term means, well...yikes. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-b378ad38-7fff-f829-5a79-6d15554f10a3"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">My oldest son is five and a half. When he was 3, I lost him in a children’s museum (RIP children’s museums, remember those?). I was heavily pregnant, pushing my then 1 year old in a huge double stroller, running around looking for him. There were 3 floors and I quickly realized I wouldn’t find him without help. I rushed to the service desk, where I breathlessly described what my son was wearing to the poor man unlucky enough to be assigned to the desk that day. I shoved my phone in his face, so he could see the picture on my phone background of both my boys. My husband wasn’t there that day, so this gentleman was only seeing me, my toddler, and the picture of my sons on my phone. He got on the radio and said there was a 3 year old African American boy missing. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-567d0440-7fff-2b52-0338-c28aff81343f"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">When I remember that day, I don’t remember the fear of losing my son. I remember the moment that I found out that to the world, my children are black. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Of course, I know my husband is black, we’ve been married more than a decade, that’s nothing new. I had considered my children, however, biracial. They meet the definition: one Caucasian parent, one African American parent. Now, this experience suddenly opened my eyes to the fact that “biracial,” isn’t really a definition that exists beyond checking boxes on official forms. To the world, they are black. After all, the security guard was just doing his job, quite well I might add, and radio-ing his colleagues with the description that quickly helped locate my son. It was one of those eye opening moments as a parent when we realize we can’t control the way the world is going to behave toward your precious child. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-af8b02e5-7fff-4a2e-71ce-c2558c85d5e8"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I had been clinging to that definition of “biracial”.There are a million other tiny examples of white privilege/racial injustice that lay before them, and which side of it they come down on just depends on how the world perceives them. There is no in between, they are going to experience one or the other. I’d love to pretend we are going to live in some perfect utopia before they come of age, but I’m not that out of touch. But maybe, by not shying away from speaking about it and pretending this dichotomy doesn't exist, I can do my small part in moving towards a world where it truly doesn't. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">When I wrote this essay in 2018, I wrote that the reason I wanted to continue to view them as biracial was partially because I wanted to see some of myself reflected in my children. Now I realize that’s not true, I don’t have a proud white heritage I want them to experience. I want to see “myself” reflected in my children, because if they can pass for white, a life of white privilege awaits them. They don’t have to want it, or enjoy it, or accept it, but it’s there anyway, and those of us who are white, or pass for white, have it. We shouldn't have it, I hope someday we don't have it, but unfortunately today is not that day. The converse of that, well, of course one example is the tragic and heartbreaking case I mentioned at the beginning of this post. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Going back and rereading, there isn’t really a cohesive theme. Maybe white girl pointing out truths about the world that make her uncomfortable in an effort to better understand and stand against racism? Which is just another variation on the theme of this blog, which is mostly about a mom just trying to raise her kids the best she can. This is one of many examples of how I'm just trying to figure this out, as I look to the future of trying to help my kids navigate a world of racism I haven't experienced. This post: just getting my thoughts typed and out in the world before I lose my nerve. Next post: maybe something slightly better?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"> I do want to mention two Instagram accounts that have helped me learn a lot about white privilege, both within their posts and links to articles. I’m not going to try to explain because I never do well with it when I get into facebook fights, I’m just going to defer to much smarter and more eloquent people on this. I urge you to check out their accounts, they have been very eye opening for me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Laylafsaad</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">theconsciouskid</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">What's a revelation about race that has made you uncomfortable?</span></div>
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-37066019399433820322020-01-23T14:18:00.000-05:002020-01-23T14:18:10.864-05:00Sibling stuff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I really wanted to get a post up while Remington still is 19 months old (I only have 2 more days)! </div>
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This age is so amazingly fun. We are all constantly laughing at her antics. She wakes from a dead sleep, rolls over and looks at me and yells "MOMMY! Put back!!!" while handing me the 4 or 5 pacifiers she insists on sleeping with, then starts frantically bouncing while saying "downstairs!".</div>
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It's a special age to me because that's how old Dalton was when Royce was born.</div>
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It's insane because I know #twoundertwo is a whole <i>thing </i>and many people found it surprising I was having a baby when I already had a baby. But I remember thinking at the time that Dalton seemed like such a big kid and not like a baby at all. Maybe it always seems that way with your oldest? It definitely has for me. Dalton still seems practically like an adult now at 5. He's basically my coparent. The person I can roll my eyes at when the other two are tantrumming and everything is going downhill. He's so aware - I swear he knows how to do some adult tasks, like change batteries, better than me. He keeps track of the days the recycling and trash go out and brings the cans out for me. He's so creative, coming up with crazy involved games that entertain the other two. I got a compliment on this silly game I was playing with them in a park the other day and I had to fess up that I was just following 5 year old orders.<br />
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Now, with Remi at the same age, the idea of bringing home a newborn is laughable. It seems utterly ridiculous. I mean, look at her! She's clearly a baby, right?</div>
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Yes, she's walking, talking, thinking she's a five year old...but clearly still a baby.<br />
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Maybe the youngest just always seems like a baby? She will do things, totally normal things like bring me a book to read, and I remember Dalton doing them at this age, and I still remember thinking it seemed so mature when he did them and so sweetly babyish when she does them. It's all relative I guess. </div>
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I've had people ask me for tips on #twoundertwo a few times over the years and I never have any. I'm not sure if it was just all a blur, or Royce was such an easy baby it wasn't bad, or my expectations were just so low that the reality had to exceed them? Eric also had 7 weeks of paternity leave, so I had quite a while to recover from delivery and adjust before I was really in the trenches, 2 on 1. I'm really glad I have a blog because I've gone back and read posts to see what it was like and they can be quite surprising! I seriously have very minimal memories and the ones I do have are good! It's amazing how two kids screaming can make you lose your mind on your own but when your partner is there it's possible to just laugh and say I guess this is our life now. </div>
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One thing I was pleasantly surprised by was how gentle Dalton was with newborn Royce. I swear he had never been gentle a day in his life and I had a panic attack around 8 months pregnant that we had "waited too long" to teach him gentle. But he was always so sweet with his baby brother and he is still like that to this day. </div>
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Furthermore, Royce is currently 4 months away from turning 4. </div>
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This is the exact age Dalton was when Remi was born.<br />
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Same story. I thought Dalton was so much older then, old enough to comprehend the idea of a baby coming, but he really didn't show any interest when I was pregnant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just realized Dalton still wears this shirt on a regular basis. </td></tr>
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Now at that age Royce seems so mature sometimes, but still like such a little kid other times. He comes up with this crazy imagined stories and games, plans ahead and comes up with strategies during board games, takes care of his little sister, gets himself dressed and on the bus every day, but he will still throw himself to the ground and scream and sob when I tell him he has to eat his fruit snacks at the table and not on his way down the slide. Maybe that's why 3 is such a hard freaking age. Smart enough to manipulate and argue but immature and lacks any and all impulse control.<br />
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On a similar note, advice for 3 kids under 4? It's chaos. Just accept your life will be chaos and keep going. I recently read the book "The Need" and I loved how the author described parenthood. Melting....maddening. Repeat infinity. My kids melt me by handing a prized item to their sibling to cheer them up. Immediately followed by the maddening that is prolonged sobbing due to the cereal that they themself picked out at the store not being acceptable anymore, nor is any other food in the house acceptable. Finally move on from that. Agree to eat another cereal. Marvel at how mature and independent they've become, pouring their own cereal. Another kid comes along and spills it. Run down the hall to grab a towel, and hear screams and MOMMMMMMMMY because they just couldn't wait one brief moment until I returned. It's a never ending roller coaster of intense emotions for me. There are few moments of being even keeled, just existing. It's overwhelming joy and infuriating frustration constantly overlapping.<br />
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But, I've said it before and I'll say it again. The most difficult transition is going from 0 children to 1 child. Three kids can be challenging but nothing is tougher than just going along, living your life, being in charge of your own day, to suddenly being the parent of a newborn.<br />
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Eric took down Remi's crib this past weekend. She's napped in it occasionally but infrequently, and never slept overnight in it. Bedsharing has been working well for us, and at this point, when she is ready to sleep on her own, it makes more sense to transition her to a bed. So we set up the futon we were using in the basement playroom as her bed for now, although probably just for naps. At night she will still sleep with me. I thought I would be sad, for the first time in nearly six years, since I was pregnant with Dalton, there's no crib in the house. We are officially done with that stage of life. I felt fine though. While I've loved the baby stage, I'm enjoying the kid stage quite a bit more. The closer and closer we creep to having 3 kids, versus 2 kids and a baby, the more fun things are getting. Now, if only we could also say goodbye to the diapers - there's one baby thing I <i>really </i>won't miss.<br />
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-65067699653507247622019-11-13T15:22:00.000-05:002019-11-13T15:22:06.755-05:00Life updates - November 2019<br />
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While I still refuse to admit it, Remington might be considered, by
some measures, a toddler. As much as I insist she is a baby, it’s
really hard to believe that when I see her next to an actual baby.
She is walking, talking, sitting at a real (kids) table to eat,
becoming furious when I try to read her the “wrong” book, and
doing all sorts of other things that are generally associated with
real people, not adorable little baby lumps.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xV3fhgvjC5U/XcxkJEn2DwI/AAAAAAABdRg/a-mCa81EsD4jJfQ8-KB_Sw_96sIdIgCGQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Bbirthday%2Bparty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xV3fhgvjC5U/XcxkJEn2DwI/AAAAAAABdRg/a-mCa81EsD4jJfQ8-KB_Sw_96sIdIgCGQCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Remi%2Bbirthday%2Bparty.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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She is nearly 18
months old, which is so hard to believe. It feels like she was just
born, but she’s halfway to age 2!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging with Grandpa</td></tr>
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I always thought age one was my
least favorite age, but I failed to realize a key factor in this
judgment: every other time I’ve had a one year old, I’ve been
pregnant! When Dalton was 17 months, I was 7 months along with Royce.
When Royce was 17 months, I was struggling through the first
trimester morning sickness with Remi. In retrospect, I have no idea
how I did it. I cannot imagine getting ready to have another baby
with a child of this age, much less doing it twice! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaGnaXzPm4A/XcxkIv8TMpI/AAAAAAABdRc/NubvKPULTTIMv2GgOg8lRODV-G4plJyxwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Band%2BLevi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaGnaXzPm4A/XcxkIv8TMpI/AAAAAAABdRc/NubvKPULTTIMv2GgOg8lRODV-G4plJyxwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Remi%2Band%2BLevi.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With her BFF, Levi</td></tr>
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It turns out, age
one is super fun when a tiny parasite isn’t sucking every ounce of
energy you have, and you have (a little) energy available to play
with and chase this tiny person. I sometimes think I miss the baby
days, but when good friends have babies and I’m reminded of what
the day to day with a newborn is really like, I’ll take
toddlerhood! Although I wouldn’t turn down a time machine to enjoy
one last hour of a newborn napping on my chest, all curled up like
they were in the womb.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8921bDMJO-A/XcxkJ740jrI/AAAAAAABdRo/viWmhQaaMkUTm91gwX8X41lFr558I3gqQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Bholding%2Bbinkies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8921bDMJO-A/XcxkJ740jrI/AAAAAAABdRo/viWmhQaaMkUTm91gwX8X41lFr558I3gqQCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Remi%2Bholding%2Bbinkies.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She needs to collect all the binkies. To hold while nursing to sleep.</td></tr>
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Of course I’m not
going to gloss over the fact that Remi is talking. This has been
weighing heavily on my mind since before she was even born. I now
have 36 words on the list I keep on my phone of words she frequently
uses, although I doubt that’s accurate since she seems to add new
words daily. The other day, she was playing with an empty conditioner
bottle, because #buythemnothing. She would hand it to me, say open, I
would open it, and hand it back. Super fun, right? I started modeling
saying “open, please” instead of open. After maybe 3 or 4 times
of me modeling, she handed it back and said “open, please”. This
was one of those minute, seemingly unimportant moments that left me
shook.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJZjmLGP8J0/XcxkKIRiVMI/AAAAAAABdRs/A4Sh1ukXlmkUGotP6S4QoFM8csd1wJWqwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Bin%2Bsand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJZjmLGP8J0/XcxkKIRiVMI/AAAAAAABdRs/A4Sh1ukXlmkUGotP6S4QoFM8csd1wJWqwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Remi%2Bin%2Bsand.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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I’ve documented Royce’s speech journey here, and some
people may know Dalton needed speech therapy and didn’t speak until
nearly age 2, although he does not have apraxia (just a typical
speech delay). I’ve never experienced typical speech development,
and the idea that I could just….say something….Remi would hear
it, and start saying it herself seemed unfathomable. How could it
possibly be just that easy? And yet, it happened then and it happens
all the time! She imitates everything she hears, so a lot of her
words are said with the same inflection her brothers use, which is
adorable. I feel really lucky to be able to experience this imitation
(the boys never did it), and just generally hear tiny little baby
words. It’s a lot of fun.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hg5m3DIi054/XcxkJe1bk2I/AAAAAAABdRk/LQxcEEMviv47vKyeaR8UAPzAUbCpDPLKwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Bcheetah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hg5m3DIi054/XcxkJe1bk2I/AAAAAAABdRk/LQxcEEMviv47vKyeaR8UAPzAUbCpDPLKwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Remi%2Bcheetah.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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On that note, let’s
update where Royce is. As I posted on my instagram stories, he no
longer uses the iPad. We returned it to the school district last
month. He speaks! He speaks in full sentences, all the time. He was
trying to stall bedtime the other night, so he followed me into
Remi’s room, instead of going into his room like he was supposed
to. I told him to go to his room for bed. He stood by the light
switch and said “I turn the light off for you, Mommy”. The goal
of the iPad was always to facilitate speech, rather than take the
place of speech, so while it was a great tool – good riddance! We
are TALKING now!
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TPlM_jP3O24/XcxkputvzFI/AAAAAAABdSU/Lj7oZ_b8WVwztApLUbUzdHeiOysEnbRjwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Royce%2Brainbow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TPlM_jP3O24/XcxkputvzFI/AAAAAAABdSU/Lj7oZ_b8WVwztApLUbUzdHeiOysEnbRjwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Royce%2Brainbow.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Royce loves rainbows.</td></tr>
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This is not to say
he’s “caught up” or that we don’t have a lot of work ahead of
us. He is often understandable in context, but there are also often
times we don’t understand him and he has to find another way to
explain himself. The one I’m most proud of was when he used blocks
to build an “I”. He was trying to tell me what he made, but I had
no idea what it was or what he was saying (I mean, he’s 3, who
knows, it could have been a monster truck in his mind, why would I go
to the most obvious thing?). After trying to say “I” several
times with me not getting it, the closest I got was “H”, he
pointed to the top and said “top” and then the bottom and said
“bottom”. He knew by me guessing “H” that I was looking at it
from the wrong angle AND figured out how to get me to look the right
way!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zrQGZZ50Xyk/XcxkpdKjb3I/AAAAAAABdSM/ofcAd5jHbKw-IifIgOIgPdsZurBwOxrwwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Royce%2Bpumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="497" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zrQGZZ50Xyk/XcxkpdKjb3I/AAAAAAABdSM/ofcAd5jHbKw-IifIgOIgPdsZurBwOxrwwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Royce%2Bpumpkin.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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So while I was and
continue to be amazed by how well he communicates in these
situations, now his main goal in speech therapy is to improve his
articulation and minimize these situations. He receives speech
therapy (from an <i>amazing</i> SLP) three times a week at school. On
Tuesday, he will do his annual evaluation at Kennedy Krieger, which
is a local children’s hospital through Johns Hopkins, which I
personally credit for getting him speaking to begin with. They do
incredible work. Their policy is six months on, six months off for
speech therapy because it is in such high demand. He will begin his
next six month stint this January. I can’t wait for him to see his
therapist there, because he is like a different child between July,
when he last saw her, and now.
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One of my favorite
current Royce phrases is “I just joking”, like when he told me he
saw a Chick Fil A on a Sunday (he didn’t). He cracks me up with his
constant jokes. He also just started to be able to ride a balance
bike, and mastered it within about a week. My constant phrase to him
is “one kiss then give her space!”. He is obsessed with Remi.
Which is sweet, but she doesn’t want constant overbearing hugs and
kisses. We are working on finding a balance so he can enjoy playing
with her without knocking her over.
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jyrYav_ivN8/XcxkKo4-Q5I/AAAAAAABdRw/BIbSZgrtvhEI0y1rV4VZTjDlvsixg8XfQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Royce%2Band%2BRemi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="497" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jyrYav_ivN8/XcxkKo4-Q5I/AAAAAAABdRw/BIbSZgrtvhEI0y1rV4VZTjDlvsixg8XfQCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Royce%2Band%2BRemi.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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I definitely had
another shook moment in the bath with Royce and Remi recently. They
were making bubbles. “Bubble” is one of the patterns that is
particularly difficult for Royce and targeted in therapy (CV1CV2 for
those in the know, although this isn’t the greatest example, puppy
would be a better one.) He was saying it in his way, which probably
wouldn’t be understandable to a random person. Then Remi said
“bubble” with perfect articulation. It just came that easily to
her, something her brother, two years older, had been working on in
therapy for months and couldn’t yet do. This was a harsh dose of
reality after I was flying high on returning the iPad. That said, I
don’t have real concerns about her surpassing him in speech. While
her articulation will likely continue to be better, he is still two
years ahead of her cognitively and that’s going to be extremely
clear until they get to whatever age it is where two years of growth
doesn’t matter any more (18? 20? 36?).
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I hesitate to update
on Dalton, because I fear jinxing us, but...five is a really great
age. He’s old enough to understand reason (unless he’s tired or
hungry), play actual games with, be actually helpful in the kitchen,
and is just generally a fun person to be around! </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mh2rVGAy3oQ/XcxkIq2qwCI/AAAAAAABdRY/HNE7QoJeqK4799tahgDAliBzVXGauaizgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Band%2BDalton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mh2rVGAy3oQ/XcxkIq2qwCI/AAAAAAABdRY/HNE7QoJeqK4799tahgDAliBzVXGauaizgCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Remi%2Band%2BDalton.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's so helpful with his sister!</td></tr>
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He’s old enough to
have a real conversation. But he’s still young enough to be cute,
and sweet, and silly in only the way a young child with no
inhibitions can be. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dNr9kJ3TXE4/XcxkpdLSscI/AAAAAAABdSQ/JbBk1CLCNq4mTIyWgczhDiuifEKifGz3wCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Dalton%2Bdinosaur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dNr9kJ3TXE4/XcxkpdLSscI/AAAAAAABdSQ/JbBk1CLCNq4mTIyWgczhDiuifEKifGz3wCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Dalton%2Bdinosaur.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the weekends, a lot of times one of us will
take him out during naptime for the other two for some one on one
time, and it’s just...fun. </div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j_svDk1QNhQ/Xcxkpeu8TdI/AAAAAAABdSI/wOjkosPTbNgoUXeyToVLT4IuTdKrlzZbgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Dalton%2Bswing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j_svDk1QNhQ/Xcxkpeu8TdI/AAAAAAABdSI/wOjkosPTbNgoUXeyToVLT4IuTdKrlzZbgCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Dalton%2Bswing.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He’s past the diaper bag stage, past
the needing to be constantly watched and kept out of danger stage,
past the middle of the night wakeup stage (the only kid in this
family who is), and into the kid stage. Sure, the sibling fighting
and whining makes my eyes twitch on a daily basis, but overall the
kid phase is pretty fun.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-48093816006529621192019-09-11T14:44:00.000-04:002019-09-11T14:44:07.740-04:00Back to School - but not for me!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A new school year has begun!</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But not for me. I’m
still on a leave of absence until Remi turns 2 – and with her
currently 15.5 months, the end is creeping up faster than I would
like. Last year, it felt so strange when teachers returned to school
in August. For the first time since I graduated college, I wasn’t
part of it. This year, I’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard
of living. The strange thing was thinking that <i>next</i> year, I’ll
be back in the ranks among them. I’m trying to just enjoy the rest
of my time off, now that I know I can survive the SAHM life, if only
barely. I’m also doing my best to dust off my rose colored glasses
to focus only on the positives of work.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmPlbEOtZLU/XXk9MCktjsI/AAAAAAABYyE/9WjcKEBlfrsdJHgjlY5JIYzyzO52H4VHACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Dalton%2BRemi%2BZoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmPlbEOtZLU/XXk9MCktjsI/AAAAAAABYyE/9WjcKEBlfrsdJHgjlY5JIYzyzO52H4VHACNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Dalton%2BRemi%2BZoo.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not ready to give up going to the zoo on a Monday morning!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
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Enough about me. The
important thing about this year is that I’m writing this blog post
at 2:57pm – with no kids trying to grab the keyboard. Why? Because
my eldest two are off at PreK, and Remi is napping.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMPJ-KWkS0M/XXk9MK_iqfI/AAAAAAABYyI/nvJLXRNVhqs8Lj6nBDwMl-K6F9F8dr50wCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Remi%2Bsleeping.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="884" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lMPJ-KWkS0M/XXk9MK_iqfI/AAAAAAABYyI/nvJLXRNVhqs8Lj6nBDwMl-K6F9F8dr50wCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Remi%2Bsleeping.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s been a bit of
a journey to get here. Last year, Dalton attended a private preschool
two mornings each week. It was fine. His teachers were loving and
capable, he enjoyed going, it was close to our house. There were
things we didn’t love about it, so we didn’t plan to send him
back the following year. He ended up leaving there in March when a
free program became available, and he attended that until early May.
We LOVED this program, but the location was awful for us.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F5OZHBosG6k/XXk9r3HbPnI/AAAAAAABYy0/vZ1UCita2AAAeegn2PRB01dTpSJzG5CQQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Dalton%2Bstanding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F5OZHBosG6k/XXk9r3HbPnI/AAAAAAABYy0/vZ1UCita2AAAeegn2PRB01dTpSJzG5CQQCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Dalton%2Bstanding.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah...don't quite recall giving him permission to turn 15.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
None of this caused
me any stress really. With Dalton developing typically, I’m not
about to lose sleep over preschool. The purpose is to get him around
some other kids, learn school norms, and have some structured
activities. Anywhere and anyone can provide that. No, I was very busy
funneling all my time and energy into stress over Royce.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3-6qPP4UKfY/XXk98FAp80I/AAAAAAABYy4/9L8Zb14FP80jhwIc8kQjui4OX3_wR-PWwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Royce%2BAlyssa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 12.8px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3-6qPP4UKfY/XXk98FAp80I/AAAAAAABYy4/9L8Zb14FP80jhwIc8kQjui4OX3_wR-PWwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Royce%2BAlyssa.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And not because he climbs everything.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was being
strongly recommended that preschool would help him develop his
language skills. We hadn’t originally planned to send him at age 3,
but of course we were willing to do anything to help his speech. The
idea of sending a nonverbal three year old into preschool however,
made my skin crawl. While I felt Dalton could pretty much go anywhere
and get those simple preschool skills, the fact is that helping
children with special needs thrive is just not something anyone can
do. I spoke with the teacher and director at Dalton’s private
preschool and I just...wasn’t comfortable. Royce doesn’t have
many typical behaviors that are associated with lack of or limited
verbal skills (tantrums, hitting, biting, etc). He’s a very laid
back child and my concern was him just getting forgotten in a typical
private classroom. He would be quiet because, well, he couldn’t
talk and he wasn’t going to scream and yell for attention. I
thought about it every single day and my heart felt like it would
break thinking of him just sitting there like a bump on a log. I knew
how smart he was, the testing showed how smart he was, but if he
couldn’t express his knowledge the traditional way, it would take a
teacher going above and beyond to help him learn.
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tSbkot-iD7k/XXk9NKLJ2GI/AAAAAAABYyM/JgPb0QCPqp4Y7PwnNQWPbGN9osvJm023QCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/all%2B3%2Bcromwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tSbkot-iD7k/XXk9NKLJ2GI/AAAAAAABYyM/JgPb0QCPqp4Y7PwnNQWPbGN9osvJm023QCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/all%2B3%2Bcromwell.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I did a lot of
research, and a program that seemed just perfect for Royce existed –
right at our local elementary school! A three year old class that was
made up of 50% children with IEPs and 50% typical children. It’s
taught by a special educator, the speech language pathologist does
push in lessons, another special educator consults with the teacher
and pushes in, and there are two assistant teachers. It was a long
road to getting him a spot in this program, but long story short,
that’s where he is at this very moment!</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I feel extremely confident
about his team of service providers and his IEP goals. We actually
had to revise them quite a bit because he has made so much progress! He’s consistently using 2-3 word phrases unprompted and independently.
While I don’t think the majority of people reading this blog post
could understand him yet, he will be working on articulation weekly
with his SLP and I feel really positive that he will make huge
strides this school year. For no apparent reason it hit me the other
morning that he is TALKING and I got really emotional while randomly driving. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I have every reason to believe that come the end of
the school year, he will not only still be talking, but speaking more clearly and using more complex language. After so long of
being stuck at the same spot without seeing any real change, and
being told not even six months ago that he may never speak, this is a
pretty incredible feeling.
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EGegIeS3Zns/XXk_NshEH_I/AAAAAAABYzY/QZUITzRB1oYBJaDCrZ82z9OFHWypImk6wCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Royce%2Bballoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1064" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EGegIeS3Zns/XXk_NshEH_I/AAAAAAABYzY/QZUITzRB1oYBJaDCrZ82z9OFHWypImk6wCNcBGAsYHQ/s400/Royce%2Bballoon.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So where does that
leave Dalton? In the same program, at the same school, right next
door! While Royce got one of the coveted spots in the 3yo class due
to his IEP, Dalton had to enter a lottery for the 4yo class. We found
out he got in at the end of August. While Dalton turns 5 in a week and a half<span style="text-align: center;">, the cutoff for Kindergarten in Maryland is Sept. 1, so he
doesn’t go until next year, which is kind of the perfect situation.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The boys attend five
days a week, in the afternoon. They are bussed there and back daily.
This leaves our mornings free for playdates and adventures. This is
hands down my favorite thing about being home (ok second favorite –
napping during the week is my favorite) and I’m so glad I still get
another year of it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nm_Ubo-gBVM/XXk9Neu_YgI/AAAAAAABYy8/clYY94qyB6MiG2uGb2iz3zQuq5oZ-K4RACEwYBhgL/s1600/all%2Bkids%2Bcromwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="840" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nm_Ubo-gBVM/XXk9Neu_YgI/AAAAAAABYy8/clYY94qyB6MiG2uGb2iz3zQuq5oZ-K4RACEwYBhgL/s640/all%2Bkids%2Bcromwell.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking with our friends the other morning before school.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I kiss them goodbye, they get on the bus,
adults much more qualified than me teach them and play with them, and
they are bussed home. Could life <i>be</i> any better? </div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P5uXHRiCr3Y/XXk9ONvrtRI/AAAAAAABYyY/GL5BG4uC1AINSXFaFh8eI4I6bVzQeUYfQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/boys%2Bpretend%2Bbus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P5uXHRiCr3Y/XXk9ONvrtRI/AAAAAAABYyY/GL5BG4uC1AINSXFaFh8eI4I6bVzQeUYfQCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/boys%2Bpretend%2Bbus.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
While of
course I love my kids more than anything in this world...loving them
face to face all day, every day, mostly by myself, is a lot.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Last year, being
home with an infant, 2, and 4 year old all day, every day, minus 5
hours a week Dalton was in school, was a lot. Summer time, being home
with a 1, 3, and 4 year old all day, every day, with no
break/childcare/school/camp/grandma’s house, was a lot. I want to
pretend I’m supermom and I love every single moment without fail. I
wish I didn’t feel guilty admitting that I crave and need breaks
from them. I need breaks though. I’m a better mom, better
wife/daughter/friend/sister, happier all around person when I get a
little down time to myself. Even though literally every single mother
I know feels the same, and I would wholeheartedly assure them they
are in the right, something about putting down in black and white
feels shameful.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FcVQ9sbW1Hg/XXk_-Y5JyxI/AAAAAAABYzg/TxyAGngpm30FiPsCQKin1-IUc_49LQDlwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/3%2Bon%2Brocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FcVQ9sbW1Hg/XXk_-Y5JyxI/AAAAAAABYzg/TxyAGngpm30FiPsCQKin1-IUc_49LQDlwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/3%2Bon%2Brocks.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the topic of mom
guilt, I have some guilt that I’ve put so much more of my mental
energy into Royce’s education compared to Dalton’s. But I’m
trying to remember that they are only ages 3 and 4 – I have plenty
of time to even out the balance!</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TH_jGy5VR9U/XXk9NwzBrdI/AAAAAAABYyU/Hd8GDCNlLzAXdhuW097EoL7pbLrikZNKgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/boys%2Bat%2Bschool%2Blooking%2Bannoyed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TH_jGy5VR9U/XXk9NwzBrdI/AAAAAAABYyU/Hd8GDCNlLzAXdhuW097EoL7pbLrikZNKgCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/boys%2Bat%2Bschool%2Blooking%2Bannoyed.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judging me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s definitely a
transition from daycare/private preschool, where you see their
caregivers at every drop off and pick up. We used a much more
informal in home daycare, where there were no detailed activity
sheets, no cameras that broadcasted live feeds to your phone, I
didn’t even know what they ate there day to day. Still, I
underestimated the comfort of the daily face to face check in. Now, I
just put them on the bus, and get them off a few hours later and hope
everything went well in between. I’m at the mercy of small children
for any information.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0kesvT9FahI/XXk9O77S2aI/AAAAAAABYyg/wQk9BSbdToolx38Rio06tHPtuOwEO8bOgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/school%2Bfunny%2Bfaces.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0kesvT9FahI/XXk9O77S2aI/AAAAAAABYyg/wQk9BSbdToolx38Rio06tHPtuOwEO8bOgCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/school%2Bfunny%2Bfaces.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Prior to being a
parent, when my only experience was on the other side of the public
school system, I always swore I would make life easier on the
teachers and not be “that parent”. You know, not a regular mom, a
cool mom. Now I realize – Alyssa, you dumb slut, that’s a
privilege reserved for parents of children who don’t even have a
whiff of a special need. Don’t get me wrong, I will always be
polite, respectful, and make sure to thank the educators for
everything they do. But I’ve already emailed the SLP and case
manager several times. It’s my kid’s ability to communicate with
the world, ya know? Gotta stay on top of it!
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So that’s what’s
new with us! Anyone else do public preK? Private? Loved it, hated it?
Share all the preschool experiences!</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yy8ZscpNMfM/XXk9OTiU7aI/AAAAAAABYyc/URggeDre6sIgu6dbBD7FshisZgLWm5zcQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/boys%2Btree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yy8ZscpNMfM/XXk9OTiU7aI/AAAAAAABYyc/URggeDre6sIgu6dbBD7FshisZgLWm5zcQCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/boys%2Btree.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-80502558656734964512019-07-14T22:04:00.002-04:002019-07-14T22:04:45.048-04:00Apraxia Kids National Conference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As you may have seen on my Instagram, I was recently extremely lucky
to be able to attend the Apraxia Kids National Conference. And I
don’t even like or use this word but I’m going to say it was a
blessing because I can’t think of a better word. It was an
incredible opportunity, provided for us by some amazing grandparents,
and Instagram.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the parents put their child's picture on their badge!</td></tr>
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Let’s back up. As
a “wear my heart on my sleeve” type, I’ve been all over social
media once our middle child received a diagnosis of CAS, Childhood
Apraxia of Speech, this past spring. An Instagram friend reached out
and suggested I follow a friend of hers, Monique, who posts
beautifully about her 5 year old son with CAS. I immediately followed
and went FULL STALKER MODE. Like that person who suddenly starts
following you and writes a long comment on a post from 3 months ago.
I was just so excited to see things like another little kid using an
iPad with the same program Royce uses.
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Monique and I
started chatting through DMs and she told me about the Apraxia Kids
organization, and the upcoming national conference. Tickets weren’t
cheap, so I thought it was something to keep on our radar for maybe 2
years from now, once I’d been back at work awhile. But it was in
Pittsburgh this year, which is less than four hours away from us. The
idea kept nagging at me of trying to attend this year, when it was so
close, and this diagnosis was so new and confusing and overwhelming.
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Somehow it all came
together. My father was extremely generous and got us a conference
ticket for “Royce’s” birthday (I mean, if you can’t get away
with that at age 3, when can you? Plus we don’t need more toys like
so so do not need more toys). My mom and stepfather and inlaws helped
us out with hotel, gas, and food. Royce is truly so lucky to have all
of his grandparents so devoted to helping him, even if he’s
clueless about it right now and just thinks they are fun people to
FaceTime and play with.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hotel room view!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Not even 3 months
after the diagnosis, we descended on Pittsburgh to learn all we could
about it! I must say, living in Baltimore for the past 14 years, I
was led to believe Pittsburgh is a horrendous place, never to be
visited. That couldn’t be further from the truth! It was such a
lovely, fun city.
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Let’s do some Q&A!
Thanks to Goldthings for every single question.</div>
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<b>Who was the
conference for? </b>Parents, and Speech Language Pathologists (SLPs).
It was about 50/50, with sessions specific to both parties. It was
not designed for children – in fact, our kids did not even set foot
in the hotel hosting the conference. It was a typical conference
format of sessions in conference rooms with power point presentations
about a variety of topics, so not exactly something a three year old
would be interested in.</div>
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<b>So what did you
do with the kids? </b>The conference actually allowed couples to
share an entry. We took turns attending sessions/hanging with the
kids. Our hotel was about a mile away, so this meant we missed all
the networking/session break stuff, because whoever was at the
conference would walk back, hand off the ID badge, and the other
person would book it back to the next session. Not a perfectly ideal
situation, but we still got a ton out of it.
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<b>Were there any
A-HA moments for you?</b> Honestly, I’m not sure yet. It was
information overload. In a good way, but still, wow. We haven’t
even finished sharing with each other everything we’ve learned from
the sessions yet. It was also a lot to take in emotionally. Basically
two days straight of focusing on this huge source of stress and worry
in my life. One of my big fears was confirmed – statistically,
children with CAS do poorly in reading. Which is kind of dumb for me
to be upset about. I know how reading is taught, and I know what
Royce struggles with. I guess it was just one of those trying to
stick my head in the sand situations trying to pretend I don’t see
the obvious.
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That was kind of
negative. I don’t mean it to be. We learned a ton of helpful stuff.
But things also weren’t sugarcoated. I feel like sometimes I can
come off like rah rah Apraxia cheerleader, but the fact is, it’s a
disability, it sucks, and I would give anything to magically make it
go away tomorrow. That’s not going to happen, but we now are armed
with so much new information to help navigate through it.
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Like this handy infographic!</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZyYCtjbyczA/XSvb7eIAsXI/AAAAAAABU90/P2dL91qlkTEQuQbWc9TwVP1CeIDF5aCQwCLcBGAs/s1600/apraxia-infographic-2%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="480" height="608" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZyYCtjbyczA/XSvb7eIAsXI/AAAAAAABU90/P2dL91qlkTEQuQbWc9TwVP1CeIDF5aCQwCLcBGAs/s640/apraxia-infographic-2%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Did you learn
about any new technologies?</b> Yes! One of the ways they sometimes
help children in therapy is by using an ultrasound. I’m going to do
a terrible job describing this but they design a special mouthpiece
to be worn by the child, it connects to a laptop, and a computer
program allows them to see the movements their tongue makes so they
can adjust as needed. How cool is that? This is, of course, for much
older children, like teenagers, but I got to see a video of a girl
using it and it was really interesting.
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In terms of more
relevant learning, I attended a session that gave an overview of the
most common, research based therapy methods for children with CAS.
Because children with CAS struggle to use their brain to create a
motor plan with their mouth for what they want to say, a lot of
therapy is designed to create muscle memory for words. This is very
different from traditional therapy (I have no idea what tradition
speech therapy looks like, but after the conference I know it’s
different than CAS therapy). One presenter gave the example of
learning to tie your shoes. Initially, it requires a lot of thought,
focus, jerky movements as it’s new and different. Now, most adults
can probably tie their shoes in the dark while carrying on a
conversation, because the muscle memory is there after doing it
countless times. That’s what therapy aims to do with speech,
because forming words feels like that awkward and challenging initial
shoe tying.
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<b>Was the
conference solely for Childhood Apraxia of Speech?</b> Yep! It is
extremely common for children with this diagnosis to have other
diagnoses as well, such as other motor planning struggles, like being
slower to learn to walk, go up stairs, etc. However, this conference
was focused on issues pertaining to CAS.
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<b>Were any adults
there with CAS? </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Yes! One of the
board members was diagnosed with CAS in the 90s as a child. There was
also a specific panel of teenagers and even younger children with CAS
speaking. We did not attend this – while it sounds amazing, it
feels just SO far from where we are right now, I’m just not ready.
I hope in a few years to feel differently. </span>
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<b>What sessions did
you attend? </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">I’ll paraphrase
titles to give the general idea.</span><b> </b>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Apraxia
101</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Encouraging
risk taking in children with speech disorders</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Eric
went to a father’s only luncheon and informed me very proudly he is
in a dad facebook support group with his new friends now</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Advocating
for your child’s IEP</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">An
overview of the types of research based therapies for CAS</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">How
to help siblings of a child with CAS</span></div>
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<b>What’d the
person not attending the session do with the kids?</b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">Two
words: hotel pool. That killed a lot of time. The conference was also
across the river, so we walked to the bridge to meet Eric one time to
switch off. The boys loved seeing the river but they walked a good
two miles round trip! Dalton even said his feet hurt from walking. </span>
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After the first conference day, we walked to Primanti Bros to get
delicious sandwiches, and ate them outside at this big lighted splash
pad thing while the kids ran through the water. They were in heaven.</div>
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While this is definitely what many of my friends would consider a
nightmare, all five of us stayed in one hotel room and it worked
great for us. Our kids basically always want a parent in close
proximity when they sleep, so having both of them in the very same
room was their dream and they slept pretty well. We just played super
loud white noise. I actually almost was late to the conference on day
2 because I woke up at 7:15 and it started at 8! No one else was up!
I hadn’t set an alarm because our kids are always up long before
7am.
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What's your travel situation with kids? Is 5 in one hotel room your nightmare?</div>
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-73824078978015363262019-05-20T15:34:00.000-04:002019-05-20T15:34:14.196-04:00May updates<br />
Well my <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2019/04/childhood-apraxia-of-speech.html">last post</a> is old news by now and it was a bit heavy and Debbie Downer-ish. So let's do some lighthearted updates!<br />
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<b>1. HAMILTON</b><br />
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In case anyone currently resides under a rock, Hamilton is an amazing musical that's super popular right now. My mom and stepfather won tickets recently and got to see it in my hometown, in upstate NY. In fact, they saw it on the night of the Battle of Winterfell so I cannot even imagine what an emotional undertaking that must have been.<br />
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And again, in case you reside under a rock, the Battle of Winterfell was on a Sunday. The next day, Monday, around 8pm I was chatting with my mom on the phone and she mentioned they were seeing Hamilton again...the very next night. They had won tickets again and she just mentioned all casually "oh yeah we're going to Hamilton again tomorrow" like it's NBD.<br />
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I was like oh. hell. no. My sister, brother, and brother in law were going the following week, and I was like I am not going to be the only one in the family left with only listening to the soundtrack on spotify like some kind of loser while you all see it twice in 48 hours.<br />
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At first, I was half joking. I live about 350 miles away, and thought...Hamilton can't be <i>that </i>good can it? A 700 mile round trip as the only adult with 3 kids under the age of 5 good?<br />
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I texted my friend with 3 kids who lives in the same area and had just seen Hamilton the night before my mom did. She confirmed: yep. It's that good.<br />
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I asked a few other friends and responses ranged from immediate yes to why would you even ask me that question instead of packing right now?<br />
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Also, during this time Eric was seeing the Avengers so I couldn't get any input from the one person who actually knows the kids as well as I do.<br />
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I called my mom back and told her my half joking was now 90% serious and that I would sleep on it and confirm in the morning. Then my sister texted me and offered to go to my mom's house with my stepfather during the show to help with the kids, which eased my anxiety because even at 11 months I still get really anxious about leaving Remi. But with her aunt as a designated one on one baby cuddler, it was on. I put the tablet on the charger (possibly the most important road trip with kids prep, although one could argue it's snacks).<br />
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Eric was a little confused in the morning with an Avengers hangover while trying to get ready for work but I think he got the basic idea. While 350 miles can be driven in about 6 hours, those with small children know that it takes a bit longer, to say the least. Not to mention my super independent thinks he's potty trained but he's not really middle kid slammed the diaper drawer shut when Eric tried to put a diaper on him and got underwear out and defiantly put those on instead. So....cool. The show was at 7:30pm that evening so there was no time to lose.<br />
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I figured it would either be amazing or horrible. It went pretty smoothly! The boys mostly watched shows on the tablet, Remi slept, ate snacks, looked out the window, and overall didn't hate life! Of course, we took a lot of nice long breaks, but we made it by show time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ptxxLURhVHc/XNsgrqwKUlI/AAAAAAABQ1E/WvddOCD5kcIHkC5PHItlhaU39phVY41sgCLcBGAs/s1600/mom%2Band%2Bme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ptxxLURhVHc/XNsgrqwKUlI/AAAAAAABQ1E/WvddOCD5kcIHkC5PHItlhaU39phVY41sgCLcBGAs/s640/mom%2Band%2Bme.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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My anxiety was still on high at the beginning of the show. We hadn't even gotten to the end of the American Revolution before my sister texted me a picture of Remi peacefully passed out and I was able to relax and enjoy the rest. We stayed another 3 days and Dalton has asked to return literally every single day since. These kids love their cousin time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RrqJ_pBe8yk/XNsgsVDy3sI/AAAAAAABQ1M/zStk7e8L4zYCZ3EisdxUOn7zcCXUEjUyQCLcBGAs/s1600/sloane%2Band%2Bremi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RrqJ_pBe8yk/XNsgsVDy3sI/AAAAAAABQ1M/zStk7e8L4zYCZ3EisdxUOn7zcCXUEjUyQCLcBGAs/s640/sloane%2Band%2Bremi.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MNxD0_sfXKw/XNsgrdwkhyI/AAAAAAABQ1A/noVrzWV3TxgMrk7hSYCloIYRtNNvwSD2gCLcBGAs/s1600/cousins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="840" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MNxD0_sfXKw/XNsgrdwkhyI/AAAAAAABQ1A/noVrzWV3TxgMrk7hSYCloIYRtNNvwSD2gCLcBGAs/s640/cousins.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
2. <b>Birthday month</b><br />
<br />
Royce turned 3 on May 6!<br />
<br />
We celebrated by meeting friends in Washington, DC, at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. Of course, despite being at one of the best museums in the world, the main attraction for the kids was the trains.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IcnsY3fUXJk/XNsgrWcs35I/AAAAAAABQ04/b1t7Bt4NXUc_jNxeWrezUriHImKD2Z2pACLcBGAs/s1600/4%2Bboys%2Btrain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IcnsY3fUXJk/XNsgrWcs35I/AAAAAAABQ04/b1t7Bt4NXUc_jNxeWrezUriHImKD2Z2pACLcBGAs/s640/4%2Bboys%2Btrain.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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The 7am train, followed by 2 different metros, with 4 small kids and two infants between just two moms...piece of cake. Or something. Whatever, no kids were lost. It was insane but it made Royce's birthday really special. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Oznm7S37YZc/XOH525EtKSI/AAAAAAABRQw/nDm3vI-xxiM6NBwo1RQXUWtJPGYknp8gwCLcBGAs/s1600/museum.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="884" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Oznm7S37YZc/XOH525EtKSI/AAAAAAABRQw/nDm3vI-xxiM6NBwo1RQXUWtJPGYknp8gwCLcBGAs/s640/museum.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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In my limited experience, age 3 is when kids start to anticipate their birthdays. I didn't want to miss out on sharing Royce's excitement. A few weeks prior to his birthday, I talked to his private speech therapist about it and she created a planning sheet and worked with him in therapy on all his birthday preferences. Per his request, the five of us had pizza, blue and black balloons, and vanilla cake with purple icing. He had specifically requested a Team Umizoomi cake, which is his favorite show. To quote a meme: I'm an Amazon mom, not a Pinterest mom. He helped me bake and decorate his cake after nap time, which we always do on birthdays. Then I asked him to go outside and get Eric and Dalton who were next door chatting with our neighbor. When he left, I put a bunch of Team Umizoomi charms I had gotten from amazon on the cake. He came back in and was <i>so </i>thrilled and surprised to see his Team Umizoomi cake.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QJZ59v6ODZU/XOH523V_B1I/AAAAAAABRQ4/zV4flI8B-hcuTJ7mIV4R29t89Ivjm76bACLcBGAs/s1600/cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QJZ59v6ODZU/XOH523V_B1I/AAAAAAABRQ4/zV4flI8B-hcuTJ7mIV4R29t89Ivjm76bACLcBGAs/s640/cake.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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And of course, to open his gift from us. </div>
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Royce was born at 6:51pm, and I swear by bedtime that very evening, he started acting extremely <i>three</i>. If you know what I mean.</div>
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And Remington turns one <i>this week</i>. Fastest year of my life. We're having a party that I've done nothing to prepare for, aside from my huge win of finding the first birthday onesie that Royce wore. I booked a pavillion near a huge playground way back in the winter, so as long as it doesn't rain I think things will be fine. </div>
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3. <b>The hair</b></div>
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Yep. We've gone from the most glorious, beautiful, glossy, perfectly shaped curls ever...</div>
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to nothing.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c_GBVxthX0U/XOH7WeJ5i7I/AAAAAAABRRI/hbVkRUw1aMgR11Hqq6Cy5eMag2q54lGvQCLcBGAs/s1600/hair%2Bafter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c_GBVxthX0U/XOH7WeJ5i7I/AAAAAAABRRI/hbVkRUw1aMgR11Hqq6Cy5eMag2q54lGvQCLcBGAs/s640/hair%2Bafter.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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And you know what, I'm not going to pretend I like it. I loved those curls. But here's what happened. Dalton and Remi were playing really nicely upstairs for a few minutes while Royce napped and I had the audacity to sit down by myself and eat a sandwich. This turned out to be a huge mistake. </div>
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I went upstairs after eating and immediately noticed Dalton had tiny hairs all over his face. </div>
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"What's all over your face?"</div>
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...nervous laughter...</div>
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I looked more closely and realized the front of his hair was buzzed. And there was a huge pile of hair next to him. He told me he had used Eric's beard trimmer. </div>
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I wasn't panicking at all yet. I was upset, but honestly he has so much hair you could barely even tell anything happened and it would have been easy to work around.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nNhUhSytIcE/XOH8pzOOAsI/AAAAAAABRRc/TlWOSz33Ts83ZvKyVgQkog1d0fIM3o2LwCLcBGAs/s1600/hair%2Bmiddle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nNhUhSytIcE/XOH8pzOOAsI/AAAAAAABRRc/TlWOSz33Ts83ZvKyVgQkog1d0fIM3o2LwCLcBGAs/s640/hair%2Bmiddle.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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I asked him why he did it. He said he wanted short hair like daddy and didn't want to have to comb his hair anymore. That's when my heart really started to sink as I realized this wasn't just a random impulsive thing but something he had actually thought about and really wanted. When I texted Eric, he said he had been mentioning wanting short hair for a few weeks. When Eric got home, it was time. I won't say I was completely sober or dry eyed, but I tried to put on a brave face for the sake of my son.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KNOmJMOZz_c/XOL6YHg3gOI/AAAAAAABRS4/V1cXKtMCr8onZOQqTLHpXkZv1hKyjySjQCLcBGAs/s1600/just%2Bbefore%2Bhaircut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KNOmJMOZz_c/XOL6YHg3gOI/AAAAAAABRS4/V1cXKtMCr8onZOQqTLHpXkZv1hKyjySjQCLcBGAs/s640/just%2Bbefore%2Bhaircut.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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I know I could have technically said no, but we've been telling him "your body your choice" since practically birth. I had to put my money where my mouth was. It turns out that children are not just ornamental and they are actually living beings with feelings and independent thoughts, so while I was really, <i>really </i>tempted, it would have been a pretty big asshole move to make him keep his hair long (especially going in to the heat of summer!) just so I could enjoy how pretty it was. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tSn-4ykjgSY/XOL6YLzsY9I/AAAAAAABRS8/DRPlMqAecVAekeccu4CE4quDvibpk9AQACLcBGAs/s1600/mid%2Bhaircut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tSn-4ykjgSY/XOL6YLzsY9I/AAAAAAABRS8/DRPlMqAecVAekeccu4CE4quDvibpk9AQACLcBGAs/s1600/mid%2Bhaircut.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
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I just don't understand why he had to choose this week to do it, when I was already suffering emotionally from the loss of Game of Thrones and my last baby rudely about to turn one. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FJUpEcPJo0/XNsgrZ6el3I/AAAAAAABQ08/-Hr9z5uB2-YbpxEpQU92Rj_eB2Z6x0y2ACLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Band%2BRemi%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="472" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FJUpEcPJo0/XNsgrZ6el3I/AAAAAAABQ08/-Hr9z5uB2-YbpxEpQU92Rj_eB2Z6x0y2ACLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Band%2BRemi%2B2.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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<br />He wanted to ride his bike when the haircut was done and it was crazy how much I had to tighten his helmet!</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-78dniq3aciI/XOL6X8DiapI/AAAAAAABRS0/INX0aJGUoMcesuzhbBls11sXAK9pIJSqACLcBGAs/s1600/bike%2Bhelmet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-78dniq3aciI/XOL6X8DiapI/AAAAAAABRS0/INX0aJGUoMcesuzhbBls11sXAK9pIJSqACLcBGAs/s640/bike%2Bhelmet.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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4. <b>Race training/running</b><br />
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The Baltimore Ten Miler is in just 12 days! I'm about as ready as I'll ever be. My training buddy Jackie and I have completed a 10 mile run. More importantly, we've done almost every long run in hilly areas, since this race is known for having killer hills.<br />
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My return to running after giving birth has been very slow this time. Remington was born May 25, 2018, and on May 1, 2019, I went for a 3 mile run and was just so excited that it felt normal. Not in terms of recovery or my c section scar, because that's felt fine since about 6 months postpartum. More in terms of feeling like the runner I used to be. Now, I am still nowhere near the fitness levels I once had and don't plan to ever be there again, because those required a time commitment to training that's just not a possibility right now. But running felt good, and doable, and normal. I ran 3 miles and never once felt like I needed a walk break for one of the first times since she was born. Maybe even the first time.<br />
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Instagram gets in my head, and I know tons of people are way more physically fit after having a baby and it can be a little embarrassing to be so far on the other end of the spectrum. The transition to three kids was extremely overwhelming for me and I had absolutely nothing left to give mentally to training or exercise. I did get some exercise, but I did not have it in me to care about pushing myself or trying to improve my fitness.<br />
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Anyway, that's where I'm at, not so much a #beast #motherrunner, more like just a regular mom who tries to do some exercise sometimes.<br />
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And that's that! Please share any and all traumatizing kids haircuts experiences. Please also share alllll the Game of Thrones thoughts. Spoiler alerts because sorry, it's been nearly 24 hours, why haven't you watched yet?</div>
Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-28012198054036125602019-04-18T15:35:00.001-04:002019-04-18T15:35:35.067-04:00Childhood Apraxia of Speech<br />
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I’m writing today about information I haven’t even yet fully
processed, in an effort to process it. It’s around 2:30 pm, and
here’s a bunch of verbal diarrhea, some of it written through
tears. At 10am today, my almost 3yo son’s SLP told me sort of off
the record that she believes he has Apraxia, or more specifically,
Childhood Apraxia of Speech (CAS). It’s not in his medical file,
but after working with him for months, she feels comfortable using
that term to describe him.
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It’s not an out of
left field diagnosis. Since last summer, SLPs have indicated that R
has a oral motor planning disorder. Everyone who worked with him
seemed to be in strong agreement with that. A few months ago, I
finally asked N, his private SLP, if there are other oral motor
planning disorders, she said no. “Sooo...everyone is pretty much
saying without saying he has apraxia then?” “Yes”.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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At that time I
started to look into it a bit, joined a Facebook support group, but in the absence of an official diagnosis, it was hard to ignore that nagging part of me that said “maybe he
doesn’t have it!”. So I hid the support group from my feed, stopped
googling, and kept on keeping on. Both his therapy and the work we do
at home is based on how he presents, and was and is consistent with
therapy for CAS. Therefore, a diagnosis was more for me than for
him at that point. N also told me that there has recently been a
problem with inaccurately diagnosing CAS in young children, causing SLPs
to be more hesitant.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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While it is still
not a part of his medical records, my
conversation with N this morning was enough to push me over the edge
from “but there’s still hope he doesn’t have it!” to “he
has it, hop on board”. Which sounds a little more depressing than
it is. I mean, he’s not speaking. It’s not like if he didn’t
have it, things were fine. I guess, as much as I told myself I knew
better, deep down some little part of me hoped he would just bust out
with a sentence one day. He won’t, but that doesn’t mean we
aren’t going to work our asses off in therapy so he can work his
way slowly but surely to using sentences one day.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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I’m told CAS is
rare, making it likely that many people reading this don’t even
know what I’m talking about! As a teacher married to a teacher, I
didn’t know what it was until I started googling very recently.
From <a href="https://www.apraxia-kids.org/">https://www.apraxia-kids.org/</a>
:</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: #020202;"><span style="font-family: Poppins, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Childhood
apraxia of speech (CAS) is a motor speech disorder that makes it
difficult for children to speak. Children with the diagnosis of
apraxia of speech generally have a good understanding of language and
know what they want to say. However, they have difficulty learning or
carrying out the complex sequenced movements that are necessary for
intelligible speech.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Essentially, it’s
not a physical problem. He can understand everything others say, and
he knows what he wants to say, but his brain can’t get his mouth to
do it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The part that’s a
really tough pill for me to swallow is that CAS is a neurological
disorder. It’s not a developmental delay that he will outgrow,
which I assumed it was when he initially seemed behind in his speech.
Everyone assumed that, because that’s what happens with most kids
who have speech issues! Including our older son! Having to shift my
thinking to accept that this will be a lifelong struggle for him is
hard. It’s very easy for me to begin to ruminate and go down the
rabbit hole of fears.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Kids will make fun of him in school.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“His teachers will
ignore him because he can’t speak to answer questions in class.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“People will treat
him like he’s stupid because his speech will be different.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He won’t be
able to make friends.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know the advice I
would give to a friend in this position would be to just take things
one day at a time and not borrow trouble and that’s what I’m
trying to do. One of the most comforting sentiments came from my
friend Emma. I would consider Emma a good friend, but I’ve never
once spoken to her, or even met her. She’s an internet friend. One
of my many internet friends, and one who lives too far to easily meet
in person. And she simply reminded me that we have become good
friends without ever needing to speak! Something that’s even more
prevalent for the younger generation. I’m now the only parent I
know who is excited for my kid to grow up in the social media era.
Whether or not R is able to use speech as his primary communication
tool...there’s a whole social world at his fingertips that he will
not have any disadvantage in.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On that note, his
case manager has reached out to Assistive Technology and he will
likely be using an iPad or some sort of device to communicate in the
near future.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some common
questions people have:</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<b>Does he have
autism</b><b>?”</b> No, autism has been ruled out by his evaluators
and service providers.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<b>Does he have
low tone/muscle problems?”</b> Nope, same as above, ruled out by an
occupational therapist.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<b>Will you teach
him sign language?”</b> No, many children with CAS are able to
speak with the help of speech therapy and that is our focus right
now. Teaching a 2 year old another language that requires a lot of
fine motor skills would be a bit of an either/or thing, and there is
no reason to give up on speech at this time.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<b>Does he have
other delays?”</b> He does not. He recently did standardized
testing to determine if he qualifies for an IEP. In every area aside
from expressive speech, he was on or above his age level. His
receptive speech is exactly where it should be (aka he understands
everything that is said as much as any child his age), which is
easily observable if you know him. He scored slightly above his age
level for cognitive, gross, and fine motor skills.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<b>Is he making
progress?”</b> YES!</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Over the
summer, just after he turned two, he began to imitate the initial
sound of words after we modeled it. For example, he would point to a
banana, we would say <i>b</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, he
would imitate the </span><i>b</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
sound.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">In
the </span><span style="font-style: normal;">early</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
fall, he began to be able to imitate two </span><span style="font-style: normal;">sounds,
for example </span><i>b</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> followed by the short a sound for “banana”, although he could
not combine them smoothly. By late fall, he was starting to be able
to combine them, so one smooth </span><i>ba</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
instead of two separate sounds. </span>
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was thrilled
to record his first word, “yes” in his baby book this past
February! I didn't record it until he had consistently and daily used it correctly for about 6 weeks, because he has "said words" before but they haven't stuck.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He now
consistently uses “mama” and “dada” to speak to us (music to
my ears!).
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He is just now
beginning to say words he knows independently, without us first
modeling them. For example, he called “mama!” when we pulled up
at his brother’s school, and when I asked what he needed, he said
“out”. This is HUGE deal for him to answer a question verbally
without prompting. Probably 95% of his speech is still prompted at
this point but the fact that he’s doing anything unprompted is
massive progress.
</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A hallmark of CAS,
the one that we feel best fits R, is that imitation is extremely
difficult. So while he’s been babbling mama and dada easily since
infancy, he never copied when we demonstrated how to use it to refer
to us. This is why we’ve had to work on building words one sound at
a time. It’s also why traditional speech therapy techniques, like
naming familiar objects, doesn’t work. R couldn’t imitate an
entire word and didn’t try because it was so far out of his
abilities. Now, he CAN imitate a lot of words, particularly cv
(consonant vowel) or vc combinations, like “go”, and he will
attempt even if the word is unfamiliar. We are working on adding the
final sound to cvc words such as “bus” and adding on to words he
is already familiar with. For example, he can easily say mama and
dada now, so we push him to add on the reason he is calling us, such
as “mama look” or “mama help”.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As you can see, he's working extremely hard and making phenomenal progress. I won't pretend it doesn't hurt that Remi's peers will be speaking well before he will. Every parent hurts at the thought of their child struggling in life, and it can feel unfair that something that comes so easily to almost every child is going to be hard for ours. Forever. However, there are also tons of positives to our situation (no other delays, the fact that it's 2019 and technology is amazing for communication, our insurance covering some private therapy, to name just a few). </div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
One thing I did that
I know would never even occur to my husband was click on the section
about “why” this happens, with my heart pounding, terrified of
finding out that something I did during pregnancy caused this.
Because that’s what we as mothers do. We always wonder if there was
some way we could have made our children’s lives easier, better,
MORE. I am extremely lucky to constantly have friends and family
working to lift me up, telling me I’m a good mother because I take
R to therapy, work with him, fight for services. And I appreciate it
so, so much. I would absolutely tell someone else that and mean it so
hard. But it all rings false to me. I’m never going to feel like
I’ve done enough until R can tell me that himself.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-68596861302187360782019-03-26T15:23:00.002-04:002019-03-26T15:23:32.091-04:00That SAHM life<br />
I'm creeping towards the halfway point of my break from the rat race! I'm on a leave of absence from teaching for two years, and the first school year is nearly 75% complete. This seems like enough time to share some reflections. I've actually been off work since about a week before I delivered. My last day of work was May 15, 2018, so it's been nearly a year of being a lady who lunches!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vkGN4Y1ZIlU/XJp6OYrWg-I/AAAAAAABN3w/9o-hw_twi5UyEH9qcY8SstJpuS26XAFCwCLcBGAs/s1600/city%2Bsquad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="497" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vkGN4Y1ZIlU/XJp6OYrWg-I/AAAAAAABN3w/9o-hw_twi5UyEH9qcY8SstJpuS26XAFCwCLcBGAs/s320/city%2Bsquad.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The number one comment/question I get asked is "How do you go so many places?". I'll approach it from two directions. The first being; how do we do it in terms of energy?<br />
<br />
Look, I get it. There are kids out there who will sit quietly and color, play with their toys, even watch tv. But these kids are not my kids. My kids are active. Of course, all small children are active and high energy. But my kids don't sit and watch tv. You know how people talk about giving their kids screen time limits? I <i>wish </i>they would watch enough that I would actually have to cut them off at some point.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nj6TJJVwGJk/XJp6MXsc1rI/AAAAAAABN3g/0li0_Wu1n-UEC3g94QW-AcQDLjSWsRTuwCLcBGAs/s1600/animal%2Bcostumes%2Brock%2Bclimbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nj6TJJVwGJk/XJp6MXsc1rI/AAAAAAABN3g/0li0_Wu1n-UEC3g94QW-AcQDLjSWsRTuwCLcBGAs/s640/animal%2Bcostumes%2Brock%2Bclimbing.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are feral.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I tried to get them to watch a ten minute show while I dealt with the mile high pile of dishes in the sink the other day. Ten. Minutes. I got about one dish washed before all the cushions were on the floor and they boys were deep into building a fort. Meanwhile, Remi was unloading the dishwasher faster than I could load it. And hey, I'm all for fort building! But the problem is, it inevitably turns into an argument over a pillow, or a blanket, or a speck of dust. Then they want to leap from the highest point in the room onto the fort. And my patience for arguing over literal trash and injuries sustained because they insist on parkour-ing across the freaking room instead of just <i>walking </i>is shot by 8am.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zEnOAY189KQ/XJp6M-sbJlI/AAAAAAABN3k/iG4mJ8d6ZWwXp3fq3oeBV_toN8USpGHrwCLcBGAs/s1600/boys%2Bon%2Bcar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zEnOAY189KQ/XJp6M-sbJlI/AAAAAAABN3k/iG4mJ8d6ZWwXp3fq3oeBV_toN8USpGHrwCLcBGAs/s640/boys%2Bon%2Bcar.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I would really prefer to take them some place like a playground designed for jumping, running, and flinging themselves from great heights where they can get all their psycho energy out and as a bonus, I can chit chat with an adult as long as we don't mind constant "mommy look at me!" interruptions.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xecCrby4zFQ/XJp6LwpztaI/AAAAAAABN3c/b1AyTYZss9Y0EJE_Vf2U5DQWCeU9pShXwCLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2Brock%2Bclimbing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xecCrby4zFQ/XJp6LwpztaI/AAAAAAABN3c/b1AyTYZss9Y0EJE_Vf2U5DQWCeU9pShXwCLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2Brock%2Bclimbing.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or a 20 foot rock wall to climb. Whatever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The second: cost! How do we afford all these activities, especially on one income?<br />
<br />
Basically - we don't! We spend very little on activities. Here's how:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Memberships. We have very generous grandparents and aunts/uncles who always want to get birthday gifts for the kids. We always ask for memberships. A science center or zoo membership for the full year gets used so much more than any toy!</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q3RIX6vDeCU/XJp6JmG7s8I/AAAAAAABN3I/6TWWzvgZjr08BZJqFdkuVpUqrbqi4TgPQCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bmuseum2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q3RIX6vDeCU/XJp6JmG7s8I/AAAAAAABN3I/6TWWzvgZjr08BZJqFdkuVpUqrbqi4TgPQCLcBGAs/s320/Remi%2Bmuseum2.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocking the cutest outfit ever at the Science Center</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Friends. At the beginning of the school year, I met some of my <i>people </i>that I now hang out with near daily and have saved me from a complete mental breakdown more than once and made this SAHM life a billion times more fun. We all have kids around the same age and made a little facebook group (little...like I think ten of us). We figured out who had memberships to what and plan activities where whoever has the memberships gets everyone else in free.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fBFI_jYB3tk/XJp6JDW_EOI/AAAAAAABN28/9R0Q2TgZwi4bh3BTwatcmvtD_WiuWTW-QCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Band%2BLevi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fBFI_jYB3tk/XJp6JDW_EOI/AAAAAAABN28/9R0Q2TgZwi4bh3BTwatcmvtD_WiuWTW-QCLcBGAs/s320/Remi%2Band%2BLevi.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Free. There are so many free activities. Libraries, nature centers, free forest school hikes, the list goes on. I'm lucky we live in a big urban area where there are just tons of free kid activities available. </li>
<li>Cheap. There are also tons of deals and ways to save. We keep an eye out for groupons. Museums and nature centers often have activities for very little. For example, today we went to the Baltimore Museum of Industry for "Wee Workers" where the kids learned about safety with books, crafts, and a tour of the museum. $5/family. </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CP67ZxqHYls/XJp6JRu_ABI/AAAAAAABN3E/6HRunF-ZW2wMfjuj3XbCVESxrrqHYeuuACLcBGAs/s1600/CD0C430C-FB6C-42FB-8443-51A444F3F582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CP67ZxqHYls/XJp6JRu_ABI/AAAAAAABN3E/6HRunF-ZW2wMfjuj3XbCVESxrrqHYeuuACLcBGAs/s640/CD0C430C-FB6C-42FB-8443-51A444F3F582.JPG" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Packing lunches. It's a pain, but on the bright side I do the inevitable work in the morning before my coffee wears off (ok let's get real....before my first coffee wears off since I double down after lunch). It's so tempting to just grab something while we are out but it also adds up like crazy so we pack lunches the majority of the time. Exceptions are Chick Fil A, because playplace, and because it's Chick Fil A. </li>
</ul>
<div>
In all honestly if I actually had to stay home with the kids I would lose my mind. Even two days in a row of that sounds awful. We meet up with friends almost every day for playdates and it's a glorious existence. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Of course, like anything, there are pros and cons. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The pros:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>It eliminates the constant feeling of "jack of all trades, master of none". Get the kids up, rush to work, try to be hyper efficient at work so I can leave as soon as possible, rush to get the kids, playdinnerbathbedtime, try to prep everything for the next day, attempt to hang out with my husband or have a little me time, rush to bed, rinse, repeat. It's exhausting. </li>
<li>Mornings are one billion times better. It's so freaking stressful trying to get two small children out the door for daycare and not be late to work, I can't even imagine 3. If I wanted to do anything besides attempt to look not homeless and get the kids in the car (for example, work out, put dinner in the crock pot, clean last nights dishes, etc) I had to be up by 5am. </li>
<li>There's no need for a panic attack when a kid gets sick. You just...take care of that kid. There's no frantic comparing calendars, trying to figure out who's taking off, attempting to comfort the kid while emailing coworkers where your emergency sub plans are, intense guilt...none of that. </li>
<li>When the kids or baby or all 3 have a rough night, it's not as bad. Sure, having sleep interrupted still sucks, but it doesn't cause that soul wrenching fear of "how am I going to do my job well when I'm so exhausted?". </li>
</ul>
<div>
One time I thought babies slept like this. All night. During naps.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gzk6nQ_cfHU/XJp6K_7xwzI/AAAAAAABN3U/bZgriX5ezyUkoSUdqar8trRwSjz0Qpy7wCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bsleeping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gzk6nQ_cfHU/XJp6K_7xwzI/AAAAAAABN3U/bZgriX5ezyUkoSUdqar8trRwSjz0Qpy7wCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bsleeping.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Then I became a parent and learned how babies really sleep.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E_ygtgM2xwg/XJp6J6caXQI/AAAAAAABN3M/z52Y3mUtk-gIn7tmpwT9pXun2iGKQZd0wCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bsleeping%2Bnext%2Bto%2Bme.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="309" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E_ygtgM2xwg/XJp6J6caXQI/AAAAAAABN3M/z52Y3mUtk-gIn7tmpwT9pXun2iGKQZd0wCLcBGAs/s320/Remi%2Bsleeping%2Bnext%2Bto%2Bme.JPG" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tixDnIJbbqg/XJp6Kaen4XI/AAAAAAABN3Q/Rp_qqBREoCIpszYOxOnuMrAFT1M8Z4IxgCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bsleeping%2Bon%2Bme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tixDnIJbbqg/XJp6Kaen4XI/AAAAAAABN3Q/Rp_qqBREoCIpszYOxOnuMrAFT1M8Z4IxgCLcBGAs/s320/Remi%2Bsleeping%2Bon%2Bme.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<ul>
<li>It's just more fun. Sorry not sorry, it's called "work" and you get a paycheck for a reason. The phrase TGIF exists for a reason. Being home, getting to do what you want to do when you want to do it is amazing.</li>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JTPP_7HF6nc/XJp6O-7QS0I/AAAAAAABN30/B-hyaD1L6O4HamzRfPuVvuIUAed9WaUBACLcBGAs/s1600/towson%2Bmall%2Bboys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JTPP_7HF6nc/XJp6O-7QS0I/AAAAAAABN30/B-hyaD1L6O4HamzRfPuVvuIUAed9WaUBACLcBGAs/s640/towson%2Bmall%2Bboys.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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<li> </li>
<li>What I originally thought was the biggest pro - NO PUMPING. Seriously my pump has dust on it. Breastfeeding is indescribably easier when you just...breastfeed as needed. Who knew? Oh right, every other industrialized country that offers actual maternity leave knew. </li>
<li>The actual number one pro - I can do SO much more for Royce without having to schedule around a full time job. It sucks but having a child with special needs and two working parents is a disadvantage. Right now he is in an hour a week of private speech at one of the top children's hospitals, and he simply would not have this opportunity if I were working. It's at 9am on Thursdays. When he turns 3, he will begin a public preschool program 2 afternoons a week. The parent has to remain in the building for students to attend (and provide transportation). Another opportunity he wouldn't have with two working parents. Eric and I have tossed around the idea of me going back next year (instead of in 2020) and while we are both open to it, we just feel we can't seriously consider it because it would eliminate so many opportunities for Royce at a young age when it's so crucial to intervene. </li>
</ul>
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<div>
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</div>
<div>
The cons:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Yeah that whole "jack of all trades master of none" thing...well I certainly haven't become a "master" on the other hand. While I wish I could say otherwise, the fact is I have less patience for the kids being with them all day every day. I can't truly compare I guess since I've never been working with all three kids, but I'm pretty sure it's true. It's weird, since at my job I also need a ton of patience dealing with sixth graders, but it's different struggles, different children, and I think doing anything all the time will burn a person out more than mixing it up. </li>
<li>I'm getting dumber. Yeah. While I sure as hell don't miss observations, standardized tests, and the like, and maybe "miss" is a strong word but - I like having professional challenges in my life. </li>
<li>When we were both working full time, I could say without hesitation there was no "primary parent". Now, we would both agree I'm the primary parent. I have all the mental load of juggling doctors appointments, keeping the kids in clothes that fit, potty training, nap schedules, and all Royce's therapies and IEP stuff. And I'm not complaining! That's the beauty of a stay at home parent. No one has to miss work for all that. But it has changed the dynamic, and we both agree we liked things the way they were before. </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>I thought the house would be cleaner. The daily struggle of when the kids nap, do I rest/chill/waste my life on instagram, or clean? I'm writing this blog post now so, I bet you can see where I end up 90% of the time.</li>
<li>Money. The most obvious. Not working = less money. While I'm clearly not chomping at the bit for the 2020-2021 school year when I'll be back, I do look forward to having two incomes again. And also, can we all agree to just stop saying "well with 3 kids in daycare it's not even worth it for the mother to work". Daycare benefits both parents, so it should be seen as a percentage of the total income, not just the mother's. A woman with children can work even if she doesn't make more than the cost of daycare. Daycare is a few years. A career is forever (and I'm very thankful mine offers the leave of absence option because I have no intention of giving it up). It's not the 50s. *steps off soapbox*</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
The end! Thoughts? Agree? Disagree?</div>
Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-77596076450313827822019-02-28T14:51:00.001-05:002019-02-28T14:51:18.766-05:00All the words for very basic updatesLife updates!!<br />
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It's been awhile!<br />
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The usual thing is happening where I think of all these things I want to write on my blog in my head at various times but never actually do it. Whenever I have down time when the kids are asleep or playing with Eric or whatever when I could blog I'm usually reading or scrolling through Reddit eating peanut butter cups in bed and can't be bothered to sit upright at a computer. This mom of 3 thing is pretty exhausting and just intense and I feel like I have nothing left to give once the kids are in bed. Like I can be a mom of 3, and do it, and love it, and do a pretty good job (interspersed with moments of losing my temper and self doubt and crying because I'm the worst mom ever). But then I just have nothing left to be a wife, friend, daughter, sister, aunt...anything else. There's no way I would be functioning as an employee so thank goodness I have some more leave time to get myself together before I have to worry about that. But...yeah. That's where I'm at.<br />
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That seemed like kind of a depressing start. But I don't feel like life sucks or anything. Quite the opposite! I would say it's more like amazing filled with love and chaos and complete insanity and fun and adorableness 80% of the time and then total meltdown everyone crying everyone hates everything the other 20%. I feel like I want to do a whole other post on my mental state but this much simpler one has already been like a week in the making, so don't hold your breath.<br />
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So, what are we up to?<br />
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Dalton: Not much to report! Learning, growing, playing. Amazing me every day with his genius level smarts (I guess it's possible I'm biased by love and he's actually just average but it seems amazing because I've never had a kid this age before). He melts my heart when I tell him he can come upstairs each day. He runs up screaming Remi's up, Remi's up and gives her hugs and kisses. He sings her twinkle twinkle little star when she cries. When he gets a treat or a sticker or anything special (like when he went to work with Eric and Eric gave him his own composition book), he immediately asks if there is one for Royce. He's like my coparent during the daytime and I love having him as my partner in crime. Honestly he's the more responsible one and is constantly reminding me not to forget stuff we need, checking if I strapped his brother and sister correctly into their carseats, basically running the show.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His current favorite imagination game: baby class. They are the teachers.</td></tr>
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He's also rapidly approaching 4.5 and my theory is the half ages suck and he is once again proving me right. Everything is an argument, a refusal, a manipulation, or just straight out defiance. I try to tell myself over and over and OVER that a strong will is a good thing in life. It just might kill me trying to parent my 4yo right now. It doesn't help that he is really smart and I am really dumb right now (not being self-deprecating it's just fact that lack of sleep/putting all my energy into tiny humans/not working has reduced my intelligence for the moment). So he often will suggest a different way of doing something than I told him and it will actually be a better or more efficient plan. And then it's like....what, am I supposed to go with my own dumb plan just to show him I'm the boss? Except then it's the if I give him an inch he takes a mile situation and an hour later he's sobbing on the kitchen floor because I told him to eat his grated cheese on a plate instead of out of a bowl and I wouldn't budge on that one because the last freaking thing I need is an extra dish in my life right now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RZGlL62vtOA/XHg5Kgrfp_I/AAAAAAABMTI/4ux1jB1cJukKfiJEgeslRS-KCL0Rkgn0gCLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Band%2BEric.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RZGlL62vtOA/XHg5Kgrfp_I/AAAAAAABMTI/4ux1jB1cJukKfiJEgeslRS-KCL0Rkgn0gCLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Band%2BEric.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good thing he's cute.</td></tr>
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<br />
Long story short, age 4.5 is fun, helpful, snuggly, adorable, sweet, hilarious, and makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a rusty fork but only sometimes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PSTnsj6xAHE/XHg7MSwfjMI/AAAAAAABMUM/TCLHCc7jHxgHu8sfGMB5lDAnUUHWsRstwCLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Bletters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PSTnsj6xAHE/XHg7MSwfjMI/AAAAAAABMUM/TCLHCc7jHxgHu8sfGMB5lDAnUUHWsRstwCLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Bletters.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All proud of himself for matching all the upper and lower case letters (and his favorite color is pink).</td></tr>
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<br />
Delving DEEP into boring SAHM mommy diaries, he switched preschool classes this month. The cutoff for kindergarten in Maryland is 9/1, and his birthday is 9/23. So he will always be one of the oldest kids in his class. When he started preschool this year, he entered the 3 year old class, and turned 4 about a week after starting. His teachers recently suggested he move up to the four year old class for the remainder of the year. I was hesitant at first since he will always be the oldest and he just has to get used to it, but this is preschool and that class just happened to be a young 3 class, so by February most of them haven't turned 4 yet while Dalton is almost 4.5, and of course that's a huge difference at this age. So we moved him and he's loving his new class. Selfishly it's a pain in my ass, because it's 3 days a week vs. 2, and we had a really good play date schedule going. Now I feel like we can barely do anything. Preschool is only 2.5 hours, so you can't do much in that time period, and that's MWF, speech is Thursday, and I kind of signed up for this year off work to have FUN, not just constantly drive kids to various educational opportunities.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chick Fil A playgroup Valentine exchange!</td></tr>
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But school ends in mid May so then I can go back to a more relaxed schedule. I did warn you that this was an extreme SAHM first world pain paragraph.<br />
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Royce: He is so funny. I feel like going from age 2 to age 3 (he turns 3 in May) brings them from toddler to KID. Now he's this hilarious little boy with an actual personality. He's also the sweetest and is always taking care of his brother and sister as well. He idolizes Dalton and wants to be just like him. Every time we are at a park or playplace he has other parents gasping with fright at his American Ninja Warrior antics. He has a mind of his own (don't they all). He is extremely TWO and testing allllllll the boundaries.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For example, instead of napping he put on baby rainbow leg warmers and did acrobatics.</td></tr>
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<br />
The big change is his communication book, or flip and talk. His SLP at Kennedy Krieger said recently "I know I'm a broken record but I'm just so impressed how well he is using it and remembering where words are!" in a way that felt genuine and not just the usual praise given to everyone. He uses it for humor, purposely answering things wrong and then giving the cutest mischievous grin. There have been a bunch of times where he's been able to use it to tell us something he never would have been able to without it. For example, telling us his spinach at dinner felt cold. Such a minor thing, right? But one that his impressive array of pointing, miming, and showing wouldn't have allowed him to communicate. It makes me so happy when those moments happen.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't have a good picture so here he is playing with his friends. </td></tr>
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<br />
That said - I had a bit of rose colored glasses on about it. It's still a huge learning process and requires a ton of work for the whole family. The big thing is for us to model it, and when it's just me all day, trying to juggle a baby, two kids, and use a book to demonstrate how to communicate with it - it's hard. Unlike speaking, I have to be looking over his shoulder to see what he's saying. So if I'm in the middle of something, which I basically always am, his pointing to something doesn't really facilitate communication any better until I can stop and go look. And I think the biggest thing I didn't quite understand was that it's purpose is functional communication. It's not designed to have a conversation with. I see all these cute things other two year olds are saying and it breaks my heart a bit that I will never get to know what funny, silly thoughts Royce is having at age two. But we still have tons of funny and silly moments together and I have to just appreciate those.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1KilkxqZgzI/XHg5Liv4QBI/AAAAAAABMTY/5z9cZb6fQaMYEpm4d-_Io2Md5ZwJWMlzACLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2Bflag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="497" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1KilkxqZgzI/XHg5Liv4QBI/AAAAAAABMTY/5z9cZb6fQaMYEpm4d-_Io2Md5ZwJWMlzACLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2Bflag.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He wanted to touch the flag. So </td></tr>
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<br />
Just recently (like in the past week!), he's made massive improvements in his verbalization. He has four words he consistently says! Go, yes, car, and mama! This is just beyond incredible, I honestly haven't fully believed it yet. For 2.75 years of his life, he didn't have a single word. I'm doing my best to accept he's on his own path, but it can be hard to hear children much younger than him speaking, and kids his age using complete sentences. And it feels a little awkward sharing this milestone when people normally reach it so much earlier. But he has worked so, so hard to get here and to say we are proud of him is a huge understatement. He's also attempting speech so much more. Over the summer, he would very rarely even attempt to imitate the initial sound of a word. Now he tries to imitate us saying words all day long. Major progress!<br />
<br />
Remington:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q9ERuq2d370/XHg5ARSCQ0I/AAAAAAABMTE/Xxgf1Cpf9u4jg_67w9iQTcvq0vmIE47pgCLcBGAs/s1600/02_February_19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q9ERuq2d370/XHg5ARSCQ0I/AAAAAAABMTE/Xxgf1Cpf9u4jg_67w9iQTcvq0vmIE47pgCLcBGAs/s320/02_February_19.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken at 4 months old for her calendar! Photo: Vince (grandpa)</td></tr>
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<br />
9 months old and the happiest little baby! Such a delight. I really love how babies don't have attitudes yet (and she never will, right?). We had several weeks where she would just sit happily and watch everything around her and coo adorably. Then she realized the world was just way too exciting and started army crawling which rapidly developed into regular crawling and now she's crawling and pulling up on everything! Instead of going to sleep at bedtime she would just stick her little head up, smile excitedly, and start crawling around. Is there anything cuter than a little crawling baby bum?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5V0qGqk_ig/XHg5LCHY-_I/AAAAAAABMTU/9Hs6-x0eNUM4Nlt5F8ZQ9gD6hM8rZNvZwCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bstanding%2Bshoe%2Brack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5V0qGqk_ig/XHg5LCHY-_I/AAAAAAABMTU/9Hs6-x0eNUM4Nlt5F8ZQ9gD6hM8rZNvZwCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bstanding%2Bshoe%2Brack.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always standing!</td></tr>
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<br />
She loves food! Even when not eating, she loves sitting in her high chair while we sit around the table playing a game or play doh or whatever. Otherwise, she's happily crawling around and taking everything out of cabinets or drawers. We nurse on demand but she's definitely stretching out the time in between. She even took a few ounces from bottles recently!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HEqFDza2vAE/XHg5KpxeMtI/AAAAAAABMTQ/owtNZ2n2LkguUIpkExPlxvPM47swgjJEgCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bcrawling%2Boutside.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="345" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HEqFDza2vAE/XHg5KpxeMtI/AAAAAAABMTQ/owtNZ2n2LkguUIpkExPlxvPM47swgjJEgCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bcrawling%2Boutside.JPG" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical. Always on the move. To eat things. </td></tr>
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<br />
Sleep is confusing. I'm still not checking the clock at night so all I know is she wakes and nurses several times. When we are home, she normally takes her morning nap in her crib and I put her in awake. If we are out, she naps in the car. In the afternoon it's more hit or miss. Sometimes she goes down in the minicrib in our bedroom awake, other times she struggles and I nurse her to sleep and lie with her (DARN WHAT A SACRIFICE). At night she acts like the crib is hot lava so we still bedshare and that's working well for us. I almost always nurse her to sleep at bedtime. She's doing pretty well on a 2/3/4 schedule, which means morning nap two hours after waking, afternoon nap three hours after waking from morning nap, and bedtime four hours after waking from the afternoon nap. Sounds confusing but I swear it's not when you are IN IT. One year from now I will have no clue what any of this means.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RMtVbifKSHE/XHg5KjASpGI/AAAAAAABMTM/YTVR5do5b9sZKn6wevnOcts-KkwmBsZtgCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bcrib.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RMtVbifKSHE/XHg5KjASpGI/AAAAAAABMTM/YTVR5do5b9sZKn6wevnOcts-KkwmBsZtgCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bcrib.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />
Me: Still training for the Baltimore Ten Miler! At this point I've forgotten half my workouts but I've met or exceeded my weekly goal of one weekday run, one other workout, and one weekend "long" run. I've included enough that I've been sore a lot, like a Body Pump class, a core bootcamp, lifting heavy weights with Eric (he always is pushing for high weights low reps on the rare occasions we exercise together).<br />
<br />
I have that same feeling of my running improvements not being valid because they have happened so much slower than the insta world. Comparison is the thief of joy and all that. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled with them, it just feels awkward to type them out to share with the internets. I see all these people doing fast, long runs before their baby is even out of the fourth trimester. And then over here - it's taken me 9 months to feel like I can comfortably run 4 miles without taking significant walk breaks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qdseGAwEUZY/XHg7MV57yTI/AAAAAAABMUQ/-kn551pn2ys2zSK1Ggj8SnBygu_Dun8xQCLcBGAs/s1600/double%2Bstroller%2Blake%2Bmontebello.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="460" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qdseGAwEUZY/XHg7MV57yTI/AAAAAAABMUQ/-kn551pn2ys2zSK1Ggj8SnBygu_Dun8xQCLcBGAs/s640/double%2Bstroller%2Blake%2Bmontebello.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Except when I have to push this behemoth. Then it's alllllll the walk breaks. </td></tr>
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<br />
I guess I expected to bounce back a little faster. Right before getting pregnant, I completed an 8 week track series that focused on speedwork and I've never done anything like that. It was so hard, but I feel like my fitness improved quite a bit from it. I ran a 20 mile race and felt good just 3 days before finding out I was pregnant. And I don't mean this as a complaint AT ALL because I'm beyond grateful for that pregnancy that brought my beautiful daughter into this world! But it can be a tough pill to swallow that it truly means all those fitness gains are gone. Maybe that wouldn't be the case if I had worked out more during pregnancy but we will never know. Sometimes it just feels a tad unfair that Eric gets to keep his body intact through all this childbearing while I have to forgo all fitness, live with a csection shelf, giant feet, devil horn hair for like a year...you get the idea.<br />
<br />
Anyway. Whining aside. Training is going well and I have seen fitness gains and now that all my childbearing is done, I can just keep improving slowly but surely.<br />
<br />
I think I'm done word vomiting. For now.Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-75176587341650520002019-01-12T14:21:00.000-05:002019-01-12T14:21:03.851-05:00Credit where credit is due!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After posting my <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2019/01/speech-our-story-so-far.html">most recent blog post</a> about my son's speech delay, I was absolutely beyond blown away by the response. My phone was blowing up with messages from people I hadn't spoken to in years, either offering support or sharing their own similar story. It's been amazing to be able to connect with other people I know that were going through their own struggles. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zOmDu-JaKj8/XDo5ca2Z2FI/AAAAAAABJz8/OHqLGFzDUKgC1O6_Hhh5RoSuFp0I0VZzwCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2BAldi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zOmDu-JaKj8/XDo5ca2Z2FI/AAAAAAABJz8/OHqLGFzDUKgC1O6_Hhh5RoSuFp0I0VZzwCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2BAldi.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As a thank you, here's a cute baby picture.</td></tr>
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<br />
I mentioned in my post that in my experience, sharing that my child wasn't meeting a milestone on the typical timeline resulted in a certain type of response. "He'll get there in his own time." "He's a boy! He just wants to run and play." "So and so never spoke until X age and then began using sentences and was fine". These are all responses that come from a great place of support, with nothing but the best intentions. Trust me, I've typed and retyped a text to someone going through a challenge I've never dealt with, wondering how best to support them and I'm <i>sure </i>there's been plenty of times I've said the wrong thing. But as I mentioned, they can lend themselves to a head in the sand mindset.<br />
<br />
The amazing thing about sharing my post was I got to hear the responses that I really needed to hear. "So and so wasn't speaking at X age... so we did a ton of therapy, practiced every single day, worked really hard as a family, fought for services, cried in the shower wondering what I had done wrong, what I could have done more of, how this will affect him throughout his life, laid awake at night, jumped up and down with crazy excitement at the smallest victories, never gave up...and he was fine!" I wish that story was out there a little more.<br />
<br />
I now have a teeny tiny bit more respect for the big bloggers out there. I was actually overwhelmed replying to all the messages. If I didn't respond to yours, rest assured it made me cry in a happy, touching way, I intended to regroup and respond, and then a kid needed me. I got a lot of comments complimenting me for being a good mom or being brave to share - which is amazing, truly, and wonderful to hear. But I felt a bit guilty about it taking credit away from where it's truly due - Royce! I'm pretty sure an hour of therapy is equivalent to us taking the SATs. It's play based, of course, but he works <i>hard </i>and it doesn't end there, as we practice saying sounds with him all day every day. The PECS system he will be using to communicate (thanks to so many people who told me the name) was described as his SLP as learning a foreign language, so he really deserves alllllllll the compliments for already doing great with it in practice.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">One important thing to know about Royce (probably ok to use his name now? idk) is that he is the happiest kid. And the most patient kid. Like, for real, he is #patientgoalz. I can only aspire to his level of zen and hope to get even halfway there (in like 20 years not now when I have little kids). He will point to something and just stay so cool and collected while I fumble through trying to figure out what he means and name it for him. Like any 2 year old, he likes to announce the exciting things he sees around him, but since he isn't able to yet, he relies on us to do his commentating while he directs us.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RvBN6393m0k/XDo5dMBtHBI/AAAAAAABJ0I/aEAJDIi_VLE72dWH_TFDFSfBHFD_g_KxACLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2BFFS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RvBN6393m0k/XDo5dMBtHBI/AAAAAAABJ0I/aEAJDIi_VLE72dWH_TFDFSfBHFD_g_KxACLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2BFFS.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always jumping, always patient, always sweet</td></tr>
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<br />
Moving on to other random updates.<br />
<br />
<b>Running</b>:<br />
This week was both a win and a fail. I did five workouts (according to my FitBit), which is a huge accomplishment. However, only one of them was running, and it was with the double stroller, so a wog at best. Plus, Royce fell asleep and then didn't nap at home, so a true loss.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cLW1dMYwSkA/XDo5djKOliI/AAAAAAABJ0Q/hQzP4QPWlD01Zxu5Qtm8jN9kteV2mVsugCLcBGAs/s1600/stroller%2Bsleep.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cLW1dMYwSkA/XDo5djKOliI/AAAAAAABJ0Q/hQzP4QPWlD01Zxu5Qtm8jN9kteV2mVsugCLcBGAs/s640/stroller%2Bsleep.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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<br />
Workouts:<br />
<ul>
<li>Half a Body Pump class (before childcare came and got me because screaming baby)</li>
<li>Free Forest hike with the kids (my FitBit counted this, therefore I count this)</li>
<li>20 minute HIIT workout with Jackie and ALL THE KIDS AWAKE and no other adults helping</li>
<li>2 mile double stroller hell</li>
<li>An hour of jumping with the boys at the trampoline park</li>
</ul>
<div>
Not the most traditional but I'm sore and it felt hard, TWSS. Jackie is out of town this weekend so clearly my motivation without her kind of sucks. In my defense, I was going to run on the treadmill today but the trampoline park was unexpected and my heart rate was really high the whole time, so, not doubling down.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y6Anl3R7Ni0/XDo5dFqF0GI/AAAAAAABJ0M/6FbPvYfyMg8JdbaSaj3eM-2OmokpDIRNwCLcBGAs/s1600/post%2Bworkout%2Bwith%2BJ.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="334" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y6Anl3R7Ni0/XDo5dFqF0GI/AAAAAAABJ0M/6FbPvYfyMg8JdbaSaj3eM-2OmokpDIRNwCLcBGAs/s640/post%2Bworkout%2Bwith%2BJ.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post HIIT</td></tr>
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</div>
<div>
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<div>
<b>Sleep</b>:</div>
<br />
<br />
Bedsharing. I'm pretty sure somewhere along the way I said something about how do people do that and joke's on me, because now I love it. Dalton always ended up in our bed as a baby. Remi was starting to go down the same route. Royce never did, always slept fine in first the rock and play (don't report me to sanctimommies for this please) and then the crib, as proof that sleep is kid dependent and not a result of parenting. I never slept well when she ended up there because I was anxious. Once I just embraced it and made my bed safe with a firm mattress (took off my memory foam topper) and bedrails and no extra pillows, I started sleeping so much better. BRB knocking on all the wood. I rarely have to fully wake up, when she starts fussing to eat I just move towards her and latch her on and conk back out. No clue how many times that happens or what time it is when it happens and that's how I like it. So, yeah, I'm in the crunchy club, I think. I mean, we use cloth diapers. But I also bribe them with lollipops and Paw Patrol. Not sure what parenting label that leaves me with. I like to call myself "any port in a storm".<br />
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<br />
I feel I should update about Dalton since I haven't mentioned him! Even though my other updates were mainly just about me. He's just keeping on keeping on, saying ridiculously funny four year old things and being the best helper a mom could ever ask for.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xG8Eqt056Fk/XDo9zBNv5qI/AAAAAAABJ0s/a6meH9dh0dMPhqeUoVgDsr8OjIRhvNYJACLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Band%2BRemi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xG8Eqt056Fk/XDo9zBNv5qI/AAAAAAABJ0s/a6meH9dh0dMPhqeUoVgDsr8OjIRhvNYJACLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Band%2BRemi.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />He's also practicing his photography skills, as seen below.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JzrAFnI1IQ/XDo5bw0jJXI/AAAAAAABJzw/Y4ScKIm0q5YmLsmnECTuA8rt1M9nAAYhACLcBGAs/s1600/Me%2Band%2BRemi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JzrAFnI1IQ/XDo5bw0jJXI/AAAAAAABJzw/Y4ScKIm0q5YmLsmnECTuA8rt1M9nAAYhACLcBGAs/s320/Me%2Band%2BRemi.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm proud to say our Christmas tree is already down and it didn't take till March.</td></tr>
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<br />
Also, Remi is now 7 months! Actually, 7.5. She's obsessed with food, as we do the pretentiously named baby led weaning. She can now sit up, scoot, and wants to crawl so badly but can't quite get there yet. Since she learned to sit up on New Year's Day, she's suddenly so much more chill and will happily sit on the floor and play with toys. The sweet spot for sure - able to sit, not able to move (much)!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z7oQtTE55To/XDo5b5kWwCI/AAAAAAABJz0/xH4EFiuNe8UppOs8E4CmfhHw7dTpC7uZwCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2B7%2Bmonth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z7oQtTE55To/XDo5b5kWwCI/AAAAAAABJz0/xH4EFiuNe8UppOs8E4CmfhHw7dTpC7uZwCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2B7%2Bmonth.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No more sitting quietly for monthly pictures!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DWp75DAOxMY/XDo5cu_uVzI/AAAAAAABJ0A/AlUTCl5Dx-A-zi3xOQx1zS_04sjSRbzoACLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2BSanta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="346" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DWp75DAOxMY/XDo5cu_uVzI/AAAAAAABJ0A/AlUTCl5Dx-A-zi3xOQx1zS_04sjSRbzoACLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2BSanta.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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She's starting to get into people other than me and her brothers - giving her dear old dad a chance.<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdFa2nWwNX8/XDo5c587DqI/AAAAAAABJ0E/sH73lqQPXisXPneu9JK_JMJnZUq0mKn9gCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Band%2BDaddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="346" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdFa2nWwNX8/XDo5c587DqI/AAAAAAABJ0E/sH73lqQPXisXPneu9JK_JMJnZUq0mKn9gCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Band%2BDaddy.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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And that's all I have to say about that (for now). <div>
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-31417496160722976372019-01-09T15:56:00.001-05:002019-01-09T15:56:33.284-05:00Speech - our story (so far)<br />
I've gone back and forth over posting about this, but really the majority of the people who read this blog are my mom and aunt and a few other friends who are already well aware of the situation. I've "met" so many amazing people and been able to share experiences throughout writing this blog, so if anyone reading has struggled with this same issue, I would love to hear from you.<br />
<br />
My middle child, R, is going to turn 3 in May. He's sweet, attentive to his little sister, cuddly, kind, hilariously funny, an amazing climber, best friends with his older brother, great at gymnastics and building with blocks...the list goes on. He's currently nonverbal. For reference, the rule of thumb is one word by age one. Dalton and I were both late talkers and began speaking closer to age 2. To be nonverbal while closing in on age 3 is considerably beyond the platitudes that well meaning people try to help me feel better with "he's just a late talker!" and "he's focused on moving and climbing!". Don't get me wrong, I appreciate any and every attempt to help me emotionally, but once we hit 2.5 with no words, and also had an evaluation at a private children's hospital, I had to face reality that there was something more going on.<br />
<br />
He was evaluated by Infants and Toddlers, which is Maryland's version of early intervention services. For those who don't know, every state is required to provide early intervention services for children birth-age 3 through the local school district. His initial evaluation was at 15 months old and he began speech services shortly after that. He has made great progress. He is now able to say initial sounds of words with prompting, and shake his head for yes and no consistently. That's HUGE! However, it's been frustrating for us that none of his progress has been saying actual words.<br />
<br />
The big question everyone has is "why?". It's the question that has me up late at night, agonizing over everything I've done from his conception to now, wondering what I could have done differently so that this skill that comes so easily to most other children is so, so difficult for my son. .<br />
<br />
R is still very young, too young for most diagnoses. He's been evaluated by an occupational therapist and had his hearing checked - both with a clean bill of health. His receptive language is fine. If I say "R I dropped my phone can you pick it up and hand it to me?" he can hear, understand, and follow that direction. As much as any two year old follows any direction, anyway. His cognitive abilities are right where they should be. He can articulate just about any sound. He just can't speak. And there's no simple answer why - some diagnosis, some label that I could obsessively google to see when kids with this particular issue begin speaking. FYI, it's not autism (that's the second question everyone asks). He's been extensively evaluated for autism by professionals and they've determined that's not the cause of his lack of speech.<br />
<br />
The most likely reason, according to both public and private evaluations and services, is a motor planning issue. This means that while he is able to physically make the sounds, there is some sort of breakdown with his brain telling his mouth to move his lips, tongue, and jaw in the correct way to make them purposefully and meaningfully. That's the broad explanation and his therapist will be working to hone in on exactly what is going on and how best to address it.<br />
<br />
With his progress plateauing and the public services just doing the same old, same old every week, we sought private therapy. We are lucky to live just a few miles from Kennedy Krieger, which is a children's hospital that provides various therapies, run by Johns Hopkins. People come from all over to get evaluated and participate in therapy there. There's a huge waiting list. He was evaluated in November and began therapy last week! He will receive weekly therapy. The best part is that they plan to work with him to identify just what is preventing him from speaking, so they can target the therapy appropriately. Equally exciting, within about two weeks he should have a communication book. This is a low tech communication device that will allow him to actually converse with us. See, he's great at nonverbal communication. If he wants milk, he will get a cup, get out the milk jug, come find me or Eric and give them to us. Even people who don't know him well usually can understand what he wants and he fits right in to places like gymnastics or YMCA childcare and no one realizes he has this special need.<br />
<br />
However, the low tech communication device will allow him to actually talk with us. He can tell us what his favorite animal at the zoo is while we sit around the dinner table. Things like that. Going beyond just bringing us the milk to pour. It will also allow him to communicate in sentences. He will learn by pointing to the pictures to communicate "I want to drink milk", the idea being that his language will develop at an age appropriate level, even if his speech is behind. It will also increase his vocabulary.<br />
<br />
At his evaluation, they talked about how successful kids are in using these devices in school, and how it could be adapted to use in Kindergarten, and I started crying. No one wants their kid to be the "different" one, the one you have to pray he gets a teacher who is willing to go above and beyond to include him, the one who isn't able to do what his peers do. Many people have a story of how someone they know never said a word until X age and then suddenly started talking in sentences. Up until this appointment I had thought that would be us. I didn't even realize how much I believed that until faced with the idea of him being unable to speak in Kindergarten. Of course he could make huge progress and be dismissed from speech by then, but I also need to be realistic that this may not be the case and we may have a long road ahead of us. I think sometimes people are so focused on sharing these hopeful stories with me, and again, with the best of intentions. It's great to be optimistic, but it's not great to live with your head in the clouds and not be realistic about what is to come. I know he will speak, and I know Eric and I will do absolutely everything we can to help him get there and help him communicate in the meantime. But I don't want to live in a fantasy world where it will just happen magically one day.<br />
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Another sort of confusing thing is that R has this need, but in the special education world, he's "not needy enough". This is what I've been told when I have pushed to get him more public services (we are just gearing up to fight that battle as he approaches age 3, which is when children are old enough to get an IEP). People are quick to remind us "yes, but his cognitive abilities are fine!" "you're lucky he doesn't have X issue as well". Yes, and that's wonderful, and we are grateful. I hesitated even using the term "special needs child" in this post, because I feel like it is stealing sympathy from those more deserving of it. It's not a competition though, and I'm not going to back down seeking out anything and everything to help my child just because there are other needier children as well. He can't speak, and that inability is only going to impact his life more and more every single day.<br />
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I haven't used his name or picture in this post so that it won't come up on a google search one day (I read GOMI too much). Not that it's shameful or anything, but I think it's up to him if he wants to fully share one day.<br />
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So that's where we are at. On New Year's Eve, as we did the kid's Netflix countdowns, he happily joined in the counting, saying "Ah" for each number right along with us. I'm feeling very hopeful about his new therapy at Kennedy Krieger and just praying so hard that on NYE 2019 he's able to truly count with us.Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-26138244512342160412019-01-06T15:54:00.002-05:002019-01-06T15:54:28.697-05:00First half of 2019 running goalsHappy New Year!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mK_kXcsdRPo/XDJpzFcv6fI/AAAAAAABJrg/DYYPVTfLIv0Reat1atw-DmQiGbY2Z-cKACLcBGAs/s1600/NYE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mK_kXcsdRPo/XDJpzFcv6fI/AAAAAAABJrg/DYYPVTfLIv0Reat1atw-DmQiGbY2Z-cKACLcBGAs/s640/NYE.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apparently the only picture I took of New Year's Eve</td></tr>
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I was a little weirdly sad at saying goodbye to 2018. The years your kids are born are really special, and, spoiler alert, this was the last one I'll ever have. But time marches on and all, so we did a few Netflix kids countdowns around 6:30pm and I went to sleep around 10pm (Eric was bartending). To celebrate the holiday I looked at my phone whenever Remi woke up (I normally have a strict policy I do not check the time until morning). At some point it was in the 12am hour so I was like yay 2019! Wild times here.<br />
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But 2019 is already off to an exciting start. I signed up for a race! My running buddy Jackie and I have a fantastic history of peer pressuring each other to do athletic events, most notably, GORUCK. That's this crazy thing where you march literally all freaking night (in our case 10pm to around noon the following day) with a backpack full of bricks (not kidding) and do things like jump in the Annapolis harbor and carry a telephone pole for hours.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nLQfjYQxcUw/XDJp0_oYhGI/AAAAAAABJr0/_S0AsMj48GkEhkjkOIcgcv7YROoWvxBXgCLcBGAs/s1600/side%2Beye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nLQfjYQxcUw/XDJp0_oYhGI/AAAAAAABJr0/_S0AsMj48GkEhkjkOIcgcv7YROoWvxBXgCLcBGAs/s640/side%2Beye.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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Recaps of that insane night:<br />
<a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2012/04/when-porto-potty-is-step-up.html">http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2012/04/when-porto-potty-is-step-up.html</a><br />
<a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2012/04/goruck-frightening-visuals.html"> http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2012/04/goruck-frightening-visuals.html</a><br />
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Runner up: <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2012/05/kinetic-half-recap.html">doing a half ironman triathlon</a>.<br />
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Current day: the Baltimore 10 miler. Our wild and crazy challenges are over for right now. A ten mile race is plenty challenging for the moment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PJclVE6n4fE/XDJpz9GjdqI/AAAAAAABJrs/1acjNodaeaYpDY6LU6knj4lDPbvl0GUiACLcBGAs/s1600/Running%2Bbuddies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PJclVE6n4fE/XDJpz9GjdqI/AAAAAAABJrs/1acjNodaeaYpDY6LU6knj4lDPbvl0GUiACLcBGAs/s640/Running%2Bbuddies.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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When Royce was only 5 months old, I did a half marathon (with Jackie!). Now, I have no idea how I managed that. While it was a good experience, I knew going into round 3 I didn't want to train for any races while in the trenches of breastfeeding. It's just too much on my body. Racing could wait until the baby was a year old. While I hope to still be nursing then, it's not the same as a five month old who depends on me for 100% of their nutrition.<br />
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This race is exactly one week after Remington turns one. It's just that perfect.<br />
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It's also a local favorite. I've done it five times before (2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, and 2015 as my first race back when Dalton was 8 months old).<br />
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Our training plan is pretty loose, and I can't take any credit, Jackie came up with it all. One long run on the weekend, one weekday run, and one non running workout weekly. I hope some weeks I'll be able to do more, but in this season of life being home full time with a 4 year old, 2.5 year old and 7 month old, that's about all I can commit to. (My 4yo does go to preschool two mornings a week.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v4RWtE6KHHA/XDJp0TsRzeI/AAAAAAABJrw/Tz6UgBIDNZAiPaLSur6Hj7-ko2I1e8wOQCLcBGAs/s1600/all%2B3%2Bplaying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="461" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v4RWtE6KHHA/XDJp0TsRzeI/AAAAAAABJrw/Tz6UgBIDNZAiPaLSur6Hj7-ko2I1e8wOQCLcBGAs/s640/all%2B3%2Bplaying.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those rare moments when everyone is playing together nicely.</td></tr>
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The jogging stroller only holds two of them, there's no guarantee of a double nap when I can run (Dalton has quiet time in his room), and Eric is coaching basketball so he's normally not home until past bedtime. The other option is getting up before he leaves for work, but that's just not happening. We still have a lot of <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2018/12/hows-baby-sleeping.html">night time wakeups</a> around here and I need any sleep I can get.<br />
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Monthly long run length goals:<br />
January: five miles (already met!)<br />
February: 6 miles<br />
March: 7 miles<br />
April: 8 miles<br />
mid May: 9 miles<br />
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And the race is June 1!<br />
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Last week was a bit of a cheat since it was a holiday week and I had Eric around Monday and Tuesday and Jackie was off work, but we are off to a great start. We did 4.5 miles Tuesday. We had intended for 3-3.5, but when we stopped at our cars after completing 3, a miracle occurred. I checked my phone and Eric had sent me this picture.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fjIFMoRZbPg/XDJpzJY3_2I/AAAAAAABJrk/bbMoufQFCwwkluG5jTZZtGjj9vsPy4w4ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="781" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fjIFMoRZbPg/XDJpzJY3_2I/AAAAAAABJrk/bbMoufQFCwwkluG5jTZZtGjj9vsPy4w4ACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0571.JPG" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
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We hadn't even bothered to try a bottle with Remi since she had refused them while I was maid of honor in Casi's wedding on October 20. (Side note we are like 90% of the way there convincing Casi to do the race.) But Eric figured it couldn't hurt and she took it! She only had about an ounce, but it was enough to sustain her and she went to sleep after and I was so excited we ran another 1.5 miles! She took another ounce while I met Casi and Carolyn for coffee the next day and I was out of the house for a good four hours of adult time. Exciting stuff around here!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IUAyrWsXcpk/XDJpzSgkZXI/AAAAAAABJro/H0Zhwu1FOUkw3ZiT_QKlmW4M9yNBsQBjwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IUAyrWsXcpk/XDJpzSgkZXI/AAAAAAABJro/H0Zhwu1FOUkw3ZiT_QKlmW4M9yNBsQBjwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0570.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Loch Raven, one of our favorite routes, during our 4.5 miler</td></tr>
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Saturday, we did 5 miles! All of our runs now include some walking in the total mileage. We used to not count that, but times have changed. We also ran some pretty big hills for both of those, since the B10 is notoriously hilly. Even with walking, our 5 mile pace was 10:50, which I'm proud of!<br />
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<b>Non running workouts:</b> 15 min low impact HIIT, 10 minute full body strength (both Peloton videos)<br />
<b>Weekday run:</b> 2 mile double stroller walk/run while Dalton was at preschool (this was more like 50/50 walking and running with huge hills) + 1 treadmill mile during nap later that day<br />
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Of course it's always easiest to stay motivated at the start of something like this, but being off to a solid start feels good. </div>
Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-14490346753489506402018-12-04T20:48:00.000-05:002018-12-04T20:48:05.276-05:00How's the baby sleeping?Since when I finally got around to posting I hit a popular divisive topic in mommy wars, staying at home vs. working, I figured why not make it a two-fer. Next up: baby sleep!<br />
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One of the common questions you get when you have a baby is "How is she sleeping?". Remington sleeps great! As long as she is in my arms or snuggled next to me she sleeps pretty well, when she is also nursing, she sleeps wonderfully.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PHC5G8YJkjE/XAcstl2H6tI/AAAAAAABIpE/KwvcqtxdHFsQo8Pdv4FexSvufpufo-vpgCLcBGAs/s1600/sleeping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="1032" height="538" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PHC5G8YJkjE/XAcstl2H6tI/AAAAAAABIpE/KwvcqtxdHFsQo8Pdv4FexSvufpufo-vpgCLcBGAs/s640/sleeping.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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In answer to what I know people actually mean when they ask that question, no, I do not kiss her goodnight at 7pm, put her in her crib, and see her in the morning. She's not so much a fan of that.<br />
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When it comes to baby sleep, you have two options. You can have your baby cry it out, therefore making them think they've been abandoned in a Russian orphanage and preventing them from ever experiencing emotions, or you can respond to their every cry, therefore creating an overly attached pathetic mama's boy or girl who will never be able to fall asleep unless their mother rocks them EVER and generally cannot cope with life. So, clearly, it's an easy decision, you just have to decide which way of ruining your child best fits in with your lifestyle as a parent.<br />
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Right now I'm doing option 2, but being on my third child, I know things can change at any moment, and I might switch to option 1 at any point. First, I was ruining my child by having her sleep in the rock and play. If you're the parent of a child under age 5, and you have access to the internet, you know that's a huge no no. Both Remington and Royce slept pretty well in the rock and play until about 5 months, when they began to outgrow it.<br />
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Shortly after arriving home from the hospital, Remi slept swaddled in the rock and play. She woke about every 2 hours to eat. Babies are supposed to slowly increase the time between feedings as they grow. Parents love to brag on social media about how long of a "stretch" their baby did. I believe Harvard offers early admission to any baby who hits 6 hours by a month old (no personal experience).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AzujB4j8brs/XAcss7u6-0I/AAAAAAABIo8/lv-IRhLvVA0z_r_EbLti4rJvPA41SLbxgCLcBGAs/s1600/TINY%2BBB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="652" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AzujB4j8brs/XAcss7u6-0I/AAAAAAABIo8/lv-IRhLvVA0z_r_EbLti4rJvPA41SLbxgCLcBGAs/s640/TINY%2BBB.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TINY BB IN ROCK AND PLAY</td></tr>
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As I've learned, babies often don't read the books or pay attention at pediatrician checkups, so Remi hit six months and had never increased her "stretches" past the 2 hours. I'm not really much of a sleep trainer because I'm lazy and it all sounds like a lot of stressful work. I don't do the "eat, play, sleep", I'm solidly in the "when in doubt, whip it out" camp. Definitely a bit of an attachment parent when it comes to sleep, but I can never get in to that club because I abandoned my first two to daycare at only 12 weeks old. <br />
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Additionally, around five months, she started doing the thing where she would wake up to eat, I'd put her away in the rock and play, and then she'd wake up 20 minutes later, angry to be all alone. This was also around the time she got hand foot mouth/ear infections/pink eye. She had been starting to put herself to sleep occasionally, but after her illnesses that was out the window.<br />
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The day she turned six months I packed up the rock and play and put it in the basement. I also posted to insta stories Eric bringing the mini crib up the stairs. Her actual bedroom is really far from our bedroom so with her waking so much there was no way. I was ready to transition her to the crib, just still in the same room as me.<br />
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I put her in the crib that night after she went to sleep. She woke up screaming pretty quickly. And I just decided I was done. I did a little refresh on safe bedsharing, and we haven't really bothered with the crib since. As many of us know, Eric is a SUPER deep sleeper, so we are both more comfortable with him sleeping separately when we have tiny babies. Since we came home from the hospital with Royce and Remi I've nursed side lying in bed. Dalton was a whooooooole different story because #firsttimeparents.<br />
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I also stopped looking at my phone at night. I'm not even sure how I got back into that habit because I didn't track much with Royce. Now I put it on do not disturb and don't look at it again until morning. I know she wakes and nurses at night still but I have no idea how many times, how long the all important stretches are, nothing. That was all crazy making. I wouldn't say I feel like I've just gotten back from a week at the spa but I feel much more rested than I have in six months.<br />
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"But my cousin's neighbor's mailman coslept and his daughter wouldn't sleep alone until she was 17." Yep I'm aware that everyone who's never coslept personally knows someone who it caused "issues" for. And there will come a time where it won't work anymore and we will have to figure out something else. But one of my goals in parenting is to do what works until it doesn't work. I spent a ton of Dalton's infancy worried about the so called "bad habits" and it was a huge waste of time because the fact is I don't know what will happen or how she will develop or what will work for our family when she's 2 or 4 or in elementary school, but I do know this works right at this moment.<br />
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I honestly don't really think much you do when your kids are babies matters. Vaccinate them and do your best with car seat safety and don't give them recreational drugs. Aside from that, just survive the year and the babies will be fine. The important thing is to try to do what makes you, as the parent, not lose your mind. For some people, cosleeping and nursing all night on demand would make them lose their mind. They definitely shouldn't do it. For me, right now, cry it out would make me lose my mind. So, I am not doing it. Just do whatever sounds the least horrible to you and if someone else does something different, both your babies will be fine.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ftTz7Xfjhu8/XAcstbUpGhI/AAAAAAABIpA/APQZdrig8PgWYfyLDnhT4noiQ4gkPBdGQCLcBGAs/s1600/sleep%2Bin%2Bcar%2Bseat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="652" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ftTz7Xfjhu8/XAcstbUpGhI/AAAAAAABIpA/APQZdrig8PgWYfyLDnhT4noiQ4gkPBdGQCLcBGAs/s640/sleep%2Bin%2Bcar%2Bseat.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
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Of course, I talk a big game, but I stress over it and wonder if I'm dooming her to never being independent. When my friend's son was around Remi's age, she was cosleeping and stressing and I was pregnant at the time and told her not to worry, he would sleep on his own when he was ready (apparently, full disclosure, I don't remember this but my pregnancy brain was pretty bad). Well now he's a year and sleeping better and I'm texting her for reassurance that I'm not ruining my kid. She said "but you're the one who told me they sleep on their own!". Ahhh right but that was when I was pregnant and full of wisdom and confidence. Now the kid is here and even though it's not my first rodeo I still really don't know what I'm doing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H1ZYAvIddbU/XAcssycnaBI/AAAAAAABIo0/Lrn95HsB8Ho99pWfBGvoScyXX2A_ra_LwCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Band%2BEric.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="424" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H1ZYAvIddbU/XAcssycnaBI/AAAAAAABIo0/Lrn95HsB8Ho99pWfBGvoScyXX2A_ra_LwCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Band%2BEric.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So unimpressed with my ineptitude </td></tr>
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<br />Which sleep method did you ruin your kid with?<br /><br />
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-25117643940526746822018-12-01T15:23:00.002-05:002018-12-01T15:23:44.857-05:00How's life as a SAHM?<br />
It's been forever! I thought I would blog more while on leave of absence but at the moment my laptop is out of commission. I just had a giant DD coffee and it's Saturday and I don't feel like I'm about to pass out so...here are some responses one of the common questions I get.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">~How's life as a SAHM? </span></b><br />
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So this is kind of fraught because this is a huge "mommy war" trigger area. I'm in a weird in between position, where I'm not working right now, but I don't fully identify as a SAHM either. I didn't quit my job, I'm on a leave of absence, I have a hard return date, and despite the fact that many people insist I'll just quit, that's not going to be happening for a variety of reasons both financial and personal. I feel guilty talking to my working friends because I'm not back at it, pumping in the trenches, navigating a 3 month old in daycare like them. But I also don't totally identify with SAHM friends either because this isn't a permanent fix for me, and I have also had nearly 4 years of being a mom and working full time.<br />
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Labels aside, it's awesome. And that's where I feel somewhat uncomfortable, like I'm being a traitor and fueling the mommy wars. But here's the thing: being a parent is hard. It's hard because you love your kid so much it hurts and just want to do everything right for them, but there is no "right", and there is no instruction manual, and kids sure don't make it easy, and that's confusing and challenging every single day. I haven't seen any way that changes whether a parent is working, not working, a mother, a father, whatever.<br />
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That said...yeah, things are easier for me without a full time job. There's a reason TGIF is a thing, and a "case of the Mondays" is an entirely different thing. I don't set an alarm. Sure, that doesn't mean I get to lounge in bed until I feel like it, but I think it's safe to say there aren't too many people past college age who do. Almost 100% of the time I still sleep later than I did last school year, waking up before the kids to shower, get ready, prepare a crock pot dinner, clean, etc. Also, "getting up" just means going downstairs in my pajamas and drinking coffee. It doesn't mean jumping in the shower before the insane rush to get ready for daycare and out the door by 7 and cramming my breakfast down my gullet during hall duty.<br />
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In her short life, Remington has already had pink eye, a double ear infection, and hand foot mouth.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dljFqEric8o/XALsFRPQozI/AAAAAAABIf0/CzLh_ofayG0-IKeIQMOQxqxkPfj-hoPigCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2BFFS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="555" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dljFqEric8o/XALsFRPQozI/AAAAAAABIf0/CzLh_ofayG0-IKeIQMOQxqxkPfj-hoPigCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2BFFS.jpg" width="446" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random pic of her being adorable hiking at Free Forest School</td></tr>
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Conveniently, I think? All at the same time. She would have had to been out of daycare for a full week! Not having any family in town, Eric and I would have had to take turns taking off, dealing with sub plans, guilt trips from coworkers, losing sick days we had already used up for maternity/paternity leave...all in the first quarter of the school year. It's a LOT easier to just be like "My baby is ill. I will care for her." End of story. Side note I also got HFM and had to take Advil in order to eat for two weeks straight. Baby weight lost from that: 0 pounds wtf.<br />
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With a six month old, of course not working is significantly easier, because no mother should be at work 6 months after giving birth unless she chooses to. Maternity leave in this country should actually exist. I can lay down with her during naptime when I'm exhausted from night wakeups. Breastfeeding without having to pump 3+ times a day, wash bottles, wash pump parts, count ounces feels like a dream come true. Honestly any time I feel like I'm going to lose it with frustration I picture the unheated cluttered closet I used to pump in. The door didn't close all the way, I would be balancing my pump and laptop and lunch on these rickety shelves covered with crap and sitting in a tiny hard plastic kid chair. So yeah, not every single moment is rainbows in sunshine but a much, much higher percentage are.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like this!</td></tr>
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And I'll just say it - it's a LOT more fun. This is nothing against my job, and I really do miss working with the students. But let's get real. Paperwork, observations, spending hours grading, standardized tests, STRESS...yeah I don't miss that. Getting to be in the woods hiking with my kids, or at story time, or at a playground, or just playing at home, on a weekday morning is literally the absolute best thing I could possibly ever be doing. I hate myself for sounding so cheesy but it swear it's true! YES they drive me crazy and I feel like I'm about to lose my mind at least every day when they are fighting over a book and we have 50,000 books or an empty paper towel tube (not making that up). But again, kids drive you crazy with fighting and tantrums and being kids regardless of your sex or your employment status. That's not a SAHM thing, so I don't feel it's relevant. Or if it is, with the argument that I experience more of the frustrating moments being home with them, ummmm....have you ever BEEN working at a job? It can have one or two frustrating moments. That's why it's called "work" and comes with the perk of a paycheck. My job can be fulfilling but my kids bring me more joy than anything else in the world. Apparently I can't write about this without being super cheesy. But, it is Christmas season, the time for cheesy sentiments, right?<br />
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~<span style="color: red;"><b> How do you take your kids so many places? (Not a humble brag I swear people ask this!)</b></span><br />
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Because they legit cray.<br />
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For real though, they get antsy and turn the house into a jungle gym if we stay home so it's honestly easier for me to just take them somewhere designed for their insanity.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gvp3sF4Nutw/XALsHU1necI/AAAAAAABIgM/5-e5-j5CwRwunK6watRw9SXrjhvSnr43wCLcBGAs/s1600/fallen%2Bbranch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="596" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gvp3sF4Nutw/XALsHU1necI/AAAAAAABIgM/5-e5-j5CwRwunK6watRw9SXrjhvSnr43wCLcBGAs/s640/fallen%2Bbranch.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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Remi loves chilling in the ergo, isn't mobile, and sleeps on the go, so now is really the time for it. I'm not a good literal stay at home mom. When the van was broken, or when HFM hit us (but not the boys so they were nuts as ever), and we had to stay home, my patience declined quickly. We do playdates with friends most days, seek out free/inexpensive activities, and ask for memberships to places for holidays instead of gifts.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the zoo with Casper and Wyatt</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby besties (Remi has several besties)</td></tr>
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Everyone is happier this way. I also have the ticking clock feeling sometimes. I only get two years of being able to go see the train garden at Christmastime on a Monday! Must do ALL THE THINGS!<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">~ Do you miss work? </span></b><br />
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LOLLLLZ just kidding no one would ever actually ask that.<br />
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-13759244958204266142018-08-30T22:15:00.004-04:002018-08-30T22:15:43.573-04:00Day in the Life August 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been on my own on weekdays with a 3 month old, 2 year old, and almost 4 year old for a little over a week now, and here's what our real life day looked like in all the mom guilt survival glory.</div>
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FYI we usually do some sort of outing but the van was out of commission this week and I learned I am sure not cut out to be a LITERAL stay at home mom.</div>
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Some point when it's still dark out to 6:45 am: Remi is on and off fussy and even in bed with me has a tough time settling down. </div>
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6:45am It's time to accept that sleep, for the moment, is over. I hold her in bed and drink cold brew and browse social media. Eric leaves for work just before 7. </div>
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7:15 Baby is finally out. Dalton throws the door to our bedroom open and bolts in yelling "HAVE YOU SEEN MY POLICE DUMP TRUCK?!" Royce is not far behind him, holding out a small jar of crystallized ginger that had fallen off the spice rack for me to open. I give them each a piece. They like it. </div>
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Everyone goes downstairs, except Remi who's now sleeping in the rock and play. We locate the police dump truck in the middle of the kitchen. (Currently, every vehicle gets "police" in front of it and can be used to do police work.) The boys ask for cereal for breakfast and we begin our morning routine of screen time until I feel I am awake enough to parent. </div>
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The very first day Eric began the school year, Dalton suddenly announced he didn't like to watch shows with mommy, only daddy. We watched no shows. Same thing on day 2. I had no idea what to think because I had planned to rely heavily on screen time to successfully complete this two year leave of absence. Thank goodness, on day 3, he decided that "Remi was upset" and she needed to watch his favorite show to cheer up.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Dalton teaching Royce to use the remote. </td></tr>
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Screen time is a always one of the top squares on mom guilt bingo. I'm not immune to the guilt but I've mainly moved past it. I don't stick my kids in front of the tv 24/7, we do plenty of fun non screen activities, so, whatever. We watch a good amount and I don't have any sort of self imposed time limit. I realize kids can learn from tv but let's get real, how much are they really learning from Paw Patrol?</div>
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We do only watch in certain spots in our daily routine, to avoid Dalton asking for it constantly and it being a source of meltdowns every time I say no. Before nap and bed we only do one show, because, duh, sleep (and thank goodness for Amazon prime which makes a billion shows with 10 minute episodes). Mornings however, are unlimited. The boys usually get distracted and start chasing each other or something and forget its on before I have to turn it off anyway. This morning they actually brought over books and wanted to all read together!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Much photographer</td></tr>
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Plus Royce wandered away and started doing his name and alphabet puzzle so, probably not ruining them with screen time. I'll ruin them some other way.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He can do the whole puzzle himself!</td></tr>
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7:30 Remi wakes up for the day and it's time for my favorite part: picking her outfit and getting her dressed! Girl baby clothes are life.<br /><br />
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8:00 While she's in her bouncer and the boys are watching shows, I try to not be a total slob and empty the dishwasher. Fun discovery: I left the lemon in my lemon squeezer before I ran it last night!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judging</td></tr>
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8:30 Remi's hour of awake time is up and she becomes quite angry if she isn't napping right away. Swaddle, white noise, snuggles, because we use alllll the sleep crutches here. I tried to do organized naps not in my arms for a total of one day and it was dumb and everybody hated it. The boys napped in my arms for months and I don't think that's ruined them any more than the screen time or epidurals during their births.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />Royce is that judgy sanctimommy telling me not to create bad habits. </td></tr>
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Around this nap I lost track of specific times, but we enter the vortex of trying to get everyone dressed, sunscreened, possessing a clean butt, and outside to play.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere in there she woke up and I probably fed her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also in there I made us all eggs.</td></tr>
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The most important part of the morning is where they act extra cute as their insurance for later when they will inevitably do something that makes me want to lose my mind.<br />
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10:00ish maybe: We complete several laps around the neighborhood. It's hot AF. Remi is in her favorite nap spot, the ergo. She likes it extra when I'm pouring sweat on her so this morning was her best life.</div>
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We play the "stop/go" game (literally just saying stop and go as we go on our walk) in my futile efforts to get Royce to stop running away and disappearing when we play outside. 50% success rate. </div>
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Finally I convince them to sit in the shaded backyard and play with their spray bottles so I can feed Remi and not spontaneously combust.</div>
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She hangs out in her bouncer while I make lunch. I loooove how our kitchen looks out to our backyard so I can watch them play while I cook, or in this case, put turkey on bread.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creeping on them out the window.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You better believe I didn't waste my good Aldi pretzel bread on them.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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11:30 They ask to eat outside which I am ALL FOR since there are enough crumbs on our floor as it is. Royce dumps all the sandwich fillings out and eats only mustard soaked bread. <div>
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12:00 Show before early nap! Usually it's more like 1-2 but we have plans this afternoon. Book, song, and Royce is down in the ten minutes of Dalton's show. The boys share a room at night but that didn't go so well at naptime. Royce really still needs a nap, while Dalton usually only sleeps once or twice a week. So Royce sleeps in his old room/Remi's future room/the "nursery", which is currently just basically an unused crib and clothing storage. We have a comfy recliner in there that Royce sleeps on.<br />
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12:15 Book and song for Dalton and BYEEEEE felicia. He plays in his room for quiet time and usually comes out to "go potty" about 45 times, comes out for at least one drink, and then 1-5 random requests like "mommy can you draw me a C after my quiet time?". But overall he plays in his room by himself.<br />
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12:30 Remi is actually sleeping on her own! Workout time!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">15 minute random Youtube tabata full body workout.</td></tr>
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1:00 Zone out, play on my phone, drink my afternoon coffee (cold brew but with creamer this time, I use <a href="https://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/perfect-iced-coffee/">Pioneer Woman recipe</a> for both). I really thought I was going to use this time daily to clean the house and get organized and take charge of my life and.....so far that's not been the case.</div>
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1:30 Remi's up</div>
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1:45 Royce is up, which also means Dalton's quiet time is over. We play outside a bit and then I get about 4K steps getting everyone in bathing suits to go swimming at our neighbor's pool!</div>
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We are so lucky to have the best neighbors! Their pool was 92 degrees so even Remi loved it. Until she got tired and she didn't.<br />
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3:45 This is where the wheels began to fall off. Remi was overtired and crying, but wanted to be held, and I needed to change all four of us out of swimsuits. This is also where I could see why people space kids out more so you don't have to do pretty much everything for everyone.<br />
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4:00 Get in the car to meet Eric for dinner. Remi is still overtired and now crying harder and I feel terrible for keeping her in the pool too long and also about to hyperventilate with all the crying. We pull away from the house and Dalton loses his mind because him and Royce were sharing grapes and even though he had plenty of grapes Royce got more of the <i>vine</i>. I drive around the block then pull over and break the vine in half while taking deep breaths and trying not to have a nervous breakdown. This settles Dalton down but Remi is still screaming and I'm still using labor breathing to try to get through this car ride. Halfway there she stops crying and falls asleep! This has never happened with her or any of my kids that I can recall. MIRACLE! Life becomes enjoyable again.<br />
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4:30 The whole reason we went out for dinner was because a pizza place was having 50% off for teacher appreciation night. Which was ironic, because the restaurant outing that had us swearing off all restaurants for a minimum of five years was a packed Red Robin on teacher appreciation night back in June. We're slow learners.<br />
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But this time around was a roaring success. No line, and a huge green area for the kids to play and run around, and we got dinner for all four of us for $11!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks like Eric is on his phone here, but he was really just reading a card with the types of pizza.</td></tr>
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After pizza, we played outside there for awhile because these children have endless energy.</div>
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6:30 Everyone gets home, bathtime for the boys, marathon nursing session/boob catnap for me and Remi. Show, books, songs, bed by 7:30 for the boys. </div>
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7:30 I contemplate trying to get away with another non bath day for Remi, but I can't remember the last time she had one so it feels wrong. She loves her bath and is kicking and smiling like crazy. Until I take her out and then she's pissed. </div>
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8:00 I get her settled down temporarily, or long enough for me to shower anyway. There's something about that swaddled little burrito sucking the pacifier that's just so precious. </div>
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8:30-10:00 Eric and I take turns helping her settle intermittently while we chat a bit and he watches football and I write this post.</div>
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10:00 First kid up for the night! It's Dalton with a nightmare. I should probably try to get some sleep before the next wakeup. </div>
Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-5736090002597826622018-08-20T07:54:00.001-04:002018-08-20T07:54:17.031-04:00Baby update: the fourth trimester<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo cred: my stepfather - he is super talented!</td></tr>
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The fourth trimester is this idea that human babies come out too early. If they stayed in the womb longer their heads would be way too big, so, even though my body gave a hard pass to vaginal birthing, I still say, thanks mother nature or whoever designed this system. However, the repercussions are that instead of merrily galloping away right after birth like a baby giraffe, human babies spend the first 3 months-ish of life thinking they are still a fetus and being mainly pissed off to be out of the womb.<br />
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In my experience, this means they just want to be held all the time, which can be easier said than done. The first time, it can be challenging because of stupid know it all sanctimommies, largely internet based, that make you think you are somehow ruining your tiny brand new baby by holding it. Subsequent times, it's challenging because of your other kids demanding attention. This is why my friend's joke they never saw Royce's face for the first 3 months of his life because he basically lived in the Ergo (baby wearing device).<br />
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Remington is now 12 weeks and the ultimate mom cliche is TRUE SO TRUE. How did she get this big so fast? While our pediatrician told me that they are only considered newborns for the first month, which was downright disrespectful of her, as she ages out of the fourth trimester, I need to face facts. She's not a newborn anymore. She's officially just a baby.<br />
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This seems like a good time to attempt to document some things about the fourth trimester, although honestly the whole thing is such a blur that I can barely remember it, despite it literally just happening. Weird how that works.<br />
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People always say babies have their days and nights confused. Is this a real thing? Honest question. In my experience, there's been no confusion, it's just been a 24 hour cycle of the same thing. The difference is that at night I have less patience for it and want the baby to sleep away from me so I can sleep (spoiler: baby don't care what I want). Possibly the baby sleeps a little better during the day because of being willingly held more and walked around and stuff, but day and night are full of frequent wakings and eating.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passed out in my lap at 3 weeks old.</td></tr>
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<b>Weeks 0-3:</b> very angry and confused about being out of the womb. Much crying. Not really getting the whole concept of eating and sleeping being separate events. Nor pooping, for that matter. Example: rooting, suck a little, pop off, doze, eat a little more, doze a little more, poop, diaper change, cry during the whole diaper change because she isn't being held or nursing, repeat 24/7 for 3 weeks. Days and nights are just a constant blur of half asleep (both her and me) nursing, holding, pooping every time she eats, so like 14 times an hour, and crying when (rarely) put down. Hates everything that isn't boobs. This results in hysterical screaming every time she's in the car seat which is stressful AF for the driver.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I put her in the car seat to take a picture on her first day home because she was crying so much at the hospital.</td></tr>
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<b>Weeks 3-6 (I think? Maybe only 3-4 or 5 weeks idk.):</b> Sleeping <span style="text-align: center;">and eating consolidate into mostly separate events. Both still happen around the clock in short intervals, but there is starting to be a little more space in between nursing sessions that yield a full feeding. </span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r29l13DUIPc/W3qnTWUsphI/AAAAAAABFLk/LZ3XOiBSQVgAVVK3z6N2tfMAxJ-Kr-OfQCLcBGAs/s1600/newborn%2Bphoto%2Bnursing%2Band%2Bplaying%2Bwith%2BRoyce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="1314" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r29l13DUIPc/W3qnTWUsphI/AAAAAAABFLk/LZ3XOiBSQVgAVVK3z6N2tfMAxJ-Kr-OfQCLcBGAs/s640/newborn%2Bphoto%2Bnursing%2Band%2Bplaying%2Bwith%2BRoyce.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Still very angry at being out of the womb. Rarely awake. If she's not eating or sleeping, she's crying. Witching hour hits hard. Usually several hours of on and off crying before/during/after (my) bedtime, sometimes until like 11pm! The only hope for stopping it some sort of uncomfortable exercise for me, like walking up and down the stairs with her, swinging her in my arms belly down, things like this. Nursing doesn't help because she wants to comfort suck and becomes furious when the milk lets down. Very frustrating when I want to go to bed early because, duh, a newborn is going to wake me all night. Even more frustrating in the middle of the night. As a first time mom, I would have (and did, since Dalton was similar) panic daily that something was wrong. As a third time mom, while I got really, really frustrated in the moment, I was able to easily diagnose her with being a baby and didn't stress about it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bxj5kYvOA3o/W3qqth_NxAI/AAAAAAABFMY/oCxTMHuYxZkOnYIUgS39KCrQKXTEPMU3gCLcBGAs/s1600/bed%2Bsnuggles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="658" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bxj5kYvOA3o/W3qqth_NxAI/AAAAAAABFMY/oCxTMHuYxZkOnYIUgS39KCrQKXTEPMU3gCLcBGAs/s640/bed%2Bsnuggles.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If I could get to this point, lying down with her, sleeping and not crying, I was happy so so happy.</td></tr>
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It is important to note here that I was unprepared for this, because for a middle child, I was gifted a trick baby.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1XOXJxSqBMI/W3qrcM1AlxI/AAAAAAABFMo/bj1Nrdlzey8hZLgt7SRecNE_v4y0beTBQCLcBGAs/s1600/throwback%2BRoyce.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="657" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1XOXJxSqBMI/W3qrcM1AlxI/AAAAAAABFMo/bj1Nrdlzey8hZLgt7SRecNE_v4y0beTBQCLcBGAs/s640/throwback%2BRoyce.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Throwback one month old Royce!</td></tr>
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<br />
A trick baby is the kind that tricks you into thinking babies are easy. When given to parents as a first child, often results in smug, know it all, we have parenting figured out behavior. Royce never cried (other than in the car). He just wanted to nurse all the time. This was super easy, because I just snuggled with him, let him nurse, and watched tv or relaxed. There was no walking up and down the stairs at 2am with a crying baby. Every time I nursed him at night, he went right back to sleep. Like literally every time in his entire life. I had no idea this was a thing, because it was certainly not the case with my firstborn. I have a distinct memory of one time, right after I went back to work when he was about 3 months, where he cried and cried for close to an hour, and nothing would soothe him. I was honestly ready to take him to the ER, because he had never ever cried and couldn't be easily and quickly soothed. I love the videos of Dalton's newborn cry in the hospital and knew I had to get one with Royce. But I didn't. Because he <i>didn't cry</i>. So I had kind of forgotten what it was like to have a typical baby that's often pissed off and won't stop crying.<br />
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<b>Weeks 6-12:</b> Somewhere in here, probably closer to six weeks, Remi decided to take the pacifier! Hallelujah, diaper changes, car rides, anything where I can't hold her suddenly at least had an option to make them bearable. There is still crying, but not every time. It's becoming less and less. Around 2 months, she's starting to have periods of awake, non crying time. Interactive time even, where she looks at me or Eric, smiles, watches her brothers, and almost starts to feel like a real member of the family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pAYjfR89kEI/W3qnUZ3lFgI/AAAAAAABFLs/9sy_vAR9QtIf6DN3YeAY2m2Jt45e8fDRwCLcBGAs/s1600/tongue%2Bout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="657" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pAYjfR89kEI/W3qnUZ3lFgI/AAAAAAABFLs/9sy_vAR9QtIf6DN3YeAY2m2Jt45e8fDRwCLcBGAs/s640/tongue%2Bout.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />
She still sleeps the majority of her life though.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FTGImCiPqjQ/W3qp6jL0s7I/AAAAAAABFMM/E4R5LBygidIDvhAsThfGhvhokfcdEbdYwCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bhas%2Ba%2Bquestion.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="493" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FTGImCiPqjQ/W3qp6jL0s7I/AAAAAAABFMM/E4R5LBygidIDvhAsThfGhvhokfcdEbdYwCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bhas%2Ba%2Bquestion.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rare unswaddled sleeping</td></tr>
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<br />
Nursing every 1.5-2 hours during the day (and not more, god help me if I try to feed her when she's not hungry, no cluster feeding for this one). Usually every 2-3 hours at night, but, knock on wood, starting to have a longer period of sleep at the beginning of the night. I'm not getting excited about that though, since we are just about a month out from the four month sleep regression. I don't like to talk about sleep because I truly believe in the jinx, but I will say nights are feeling much more manageable. The witching hour is nearly gone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRaret49guA/W3qqtv9hhBI/AAAAAAABFMc/maPaODJHUUAiotU48pHVDnntVGfGs-wjACLcBGAs/s1600/napping%2Bin%2Bbouncer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="657" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HRaret49guA/W3qqtv9hhBI/AAAAAAABFMc/maPaODJHUUAiotU48pHVDnntVGfGs-wjACLcBGAs/s640/napping%2Bin%2Bbouncer.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Napping in her bouncer</td></tr>
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<b><br /><br />Essential baby items, weeks 0-12:</b> boobs, arms, diapers, car seat. If you have older kids, the Ergo or some type of baby wearing device. Staircase is helpful to walk up and down with the baby in your arms, but we didn't have one with Dalton and we all survived.<br />
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<b>Other random stuff: </b><br />
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<ul>
<li>She's taken 2 bottles in the last week, and I think 4 or 5 total, and done well! I've been super lazy about introducing bottles because I hate pumping, I hate washing pump parts, and I haven't been ready to leave her until very recently (although I have, for one on one time with the boys).</li>
<li>Still in newborn clothes, and newborn diapers. All the adorable 3 month summer outfits we have are likely not getting worn, unless it's still really hot out in November or so. </li>
<li>She loves baths, and has officially been in two pools. Loved the one with nice warm water, hated the cold one (shocking, I know). </li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FjZlp18gBxY/W3qp6naF3VI/AAAAAAABFMI/SL2PVGmA0u8qdi3Bn-I7UCtmI1bTeJJQwCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bin%2Bbikini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="657" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FjZlp18gBxY/W3qp6naF3VI/AAAAAAABFMI/SL2PVGmA0u8qdi3Bn-I7UCtmI1bTeJJQwCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bin%2Bbikini.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>That's about it. Babies under 3 months are cute but don't do much. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Question: What sticks out to you about your child's/children's fourth trimester? Please feel free to answer if your children are currently any ages 0-50.</b></div>
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-7410357802050863482018-08-03T09:18:00.003-04:002018-08-03T09:18:45.527-04:00Day in the Life-ish <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I got some good questions to answer for blog posts on Instagram! I think maybe I will try to do shorter, more frequent posts? No promises.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Day in the life"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm going to hopefully answer this one fully in a month or so when real life begins. The boys are still in daycare at the moment thanks to an extremely generous gift from my inlaws! Seriously I cannot say how thankful I am. Eric is working full time with summer school and then curriculum writing in the afternoons. This is our last day though! I'm so sad to leave our sitter, she's been with us since I went back to work with Dalton when he was 3 months old and the boys love her so much. <span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I attempted to craft her something as a goodbye gift (with a gift card too as a real gift because junk your kids make is not a real gift, sorry not sorry) and it's kind of a pinterest fail but I don't craft. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Here's a general DITL for the sweet life I'm living now with full time child care.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">5-7 am: The boys wake up, Eric gets them breakfast/turns on a show for them, I stay in bed with Remi who is usually fussy and wants to be held, so she and I doze in bed together.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aYR3-JE2ZF4/W2GkFm6D-4I/AAAAAAABEns/SuoQtAvctpAjiP8wrcXHqFhsgFjRwdqawCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aYR3-JE2ZF4/W2GkFm6D-4I/AAAAAAABEns/SuoQtAvctpAjiP8wrcXHqFhsgFjRwdqawCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9357.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">"Me fussy? Never!"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">7am: Eric leaves for work, I go downstairs, with Remi if she's awake.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gn0gFVywFFs/W2GkE8Q4FHI/AAAAAAABEng/6bsavw_jP_0aiDgNzfXCw5B2qZtjRsGTgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gn0gFVywFFs/W2GkE8Q4FHI/AAAAAAABEng/6bsavw_jP_0aiDgNzfXCw5B2qZtjRsGTgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9338.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Photo by Dalton!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">7-9am ish: Watch shows with the boys, play Dalton's favorite new game that he invented "catch car" which is basically tag/hide and go seek with cars, get dressed, drink copious amounts of coffee.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">9am-ish: Drop the boys off at daycare</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">9:30- 5:30: Nursing, netflix, napping, reading, eating, staring at Remi's face in amazement that I created something so beautiful, some sort of 10-20 minute workout, occasionally errands or meeting up with a friend, very very occasionally some sort of housework, make dinner</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">5:30-7:30: Eric and the boys arrive home, dinner, playing outside, maybe baths, total insanity, bedtime.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gnzNcVXZc0/W2GkksTzFhI/AAAAAAABEoA/q66hEGOc30ofKizD2Vt1ZzH62wP1ykeSACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gnzNcVXZc0/W2GkksTzFhI/AAAAAAABEoA/q66hEGOc30ofKizD2Vt1ZzH62wP1ykeSACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9115.jpg" width="480" /></span></a><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ho9duKDQlKM/W2Gkkq77Z1I/AAAAAAABEn8/rbz9__cbykwz0HgB5ILYkbi09MAolcwZQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ho9duKDQlKM/W2Gkkq77Z1I/AAAAAAABEn8/rbz9__cbykwz0HgB5ILYkbi09MAolcwZQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9116.jpg" width="480" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">7:30-9:30: As soon as the boys are down (all of them, currently Eric is laying in there with them till they go to sleep, not ideal but seems to be the main side effect of the new baby transition so I'll take it), Remi and I go upstairs and I get her in her pjs and the good swaddle that we use for nighttime, and we snuggle in my bed while I eat some sort of dessert. This is usually the witching hour for her, so there's often a lot of me getting up and walking/swinging her. I was trying to watch the Haidmaid's Tale downstairs during this time, but it got interrupted too much with her crying and also I need a break for therapy before I can keep watching because omg. I switched over to Anne with an E.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">9:30pm ish: Read until I fall asleep. Sleep until Remi is up to nurse the first time! Eric was able to help a lot more with Dalton at night and usually gave him a bottle for one night feeding which left me with a lot more sleep. Royce was a better sleeper so it wasn't necessary. I could definitely use it this time, but with the boys struggling with sleep, it's all hands on deck and I think I'd rather nurse the snuggly little baby than have to pump and deal with the ones who can argue and negotiate.</span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyIHc4xPzJ8/W2GkE0CyE4I/AAAAAAABEnk/kLoAOYh7XpMx2_wIGCSeEebuwCgEFSfGACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyIHc4xPzJ8/W2GkE0CyE4I/AAAAAAABEnk/kLoAOYh7XpMx2_wIGCSeEebuwCgEFSfGACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9291.jpg" width="480" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">That's our current day in the life-ish! Usually once a week I'll do some sort of activity with the boys in the morning and then drop them off just for their afternoon nap, which works great because they take it reliably at daycare and it's generally a disaster at home. Weekends are actually crazier right now because Eric bartends, so he sleeps during the day and I am somewhat solo with the kids. Somewhat because I usually take them out to let him sleep, but he is there and I could wake him with an emergency, like that time Royce locked himself in his bedroom. He also gets up with the boys and dozes while watch shows and makes them breakfast, so I get to sleep in a bit with Remi. He's kind of amazing like that.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8QThHZIu08M/W2GkE7ZsAjI/AAAAAAABEno/tkzFp5TUMS05TcAIx0ZtPdfFN6JdDKlggCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8QThHZIu08M/W2GkE7ZsAjI/AAAAAAABEno/tkzFp5TUMS05TcAIx0ZtPdfFN6JdDKlggCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_9346.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm also going to use this post to answer another question that isn't going to be a full post: my thoughts on the dock a tot (google it, it's a fancy expensive baby thing). I don't get it? Seems like a super expensive dog bed, but I know people who love it so maybe I'm missing something. I've never even seen one in real life that I can recall. All 3 of my babies have just wanted to be held. They scream when they are put down, no matter how expensive the baby holding device I'm putting them in is. Royce was somewhat ok with it but still only napped while held from approximately month 1-2 of life. The carseat/driving was a nightmare for the first 6 weeks or so with all 3 because it was nonstop screaming and me pouring sweat and having a nervous breakdown. Suffice to say, the solution was just to hold them or wear them, not throw money at more baby holding devices for them to scream in. I've heard rumors of other babies that accept being put down in the fourth trimester, so maybe in that case, the dock a tot is a good invention, but no personal experience. </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-761efb6f-fff0-255f-ba0c-b91019d8cbce" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Did your kids let you put them down as babies? I love hearing stories from everyone!</span></span></div>
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-53202390665104336462018-07-23T21:02:00.001-04:002018-07-24T21:02:00.872-04:00Life with 3 kids (alternate title: life in crazytown)<br />
A lot of people have asked "what's life like with 3 kids?". And I really never know what to say.<br />
So I'm going to start just texting back this picture.<br />
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<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/gIJ9ss8Sihq2-Zcm8g_A01TJv9D26UQMlu2p8II26eAHicSoNsJGrEHqW4R2GyjkWJac--jtso4Y9r6DeisWEigxkpKIobLZgY_420vuzYf7l7vsztUT-fEQSF6iw9gM4W4lki73" /><br />
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Can you spot the baby?<br />
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Before I had the picture, I would usually say something like 90% fun chaos, 10% hiding in the bathroom trying not to hyperventilate. That’s usually when I’m doing bedtime on my own.<br />
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Honestly I don't really know. We've been lucky to have a ton of help, so I don't truly feel like I've "done it" yet. I actually feel guilty, like I'm cheating and it makes me scared for when I'm thrown to the wolves in September when school starts. The boys have still been in daycare, so even when Eric has been at work (a week plus a few other random days in June and full time at summer school now) I've spent a lot of time pretending to be a first time mom laying around, snuggling with Remi, doing nothing but reading books, nursing, and eating. Except now I have the perspective to actually enjoy it.<br />
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<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/hTTLu3zgFOXBz9v5ZN5Lm09FyxBo85_5a0mG-OGBZu92IO0dqk4KgrYHMUbXgiUnw6ebJqnGwP4XYB3YGDweTe0NtXtxPoziW4DI3n7uW7IeWEAI38aRdjNvARjVBUm6B_aTvvV0" /><br />
Exactly how we both look every day, put together and in nice, milk free clothes.<br />
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One of the (many) things I was nervous about logistically when I was pregnant was taking all 3 of them places by myself. I am very happy to share I have gotten over that hump! I eased in to it with playdates so that I could have help.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/8TuXPO-vNWkfzLSnINVGMKdK5AdXLEDXNoqhgsR2own_W852oKDsW4m8-iFB2X5NlRBgGkFIYuko2sgHYQ21XDRDmB6NnLOJy3B6jscyHl78LnQFLuHwsdSNOi6Z2AXyDGxzyArX" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Making pizza at our friend Elliot's house!</td></tr>
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We tried a nearby library story time. We went the first time when Eric was still off work, it was overwhelming. The kids were running everywhere while Remi needed to eat and I really wasn't sure how I was going to possibly handle it solo, especially since we never go to "story time" because it ends up being "chase my kids around the room while other kids sit quietly for story time".<br />
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We went back and it went really well! There was some chasing Royce, made possible by my favorite baby invention EVER, the ergo (a baby wearing device that holds them in tightly so you can sprint after your insane older children). But Dalton participated in the circle time and, therefore, Royce also did, and we've been back twice and it's been actually fun!<br />
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After that push to get out of the house, we also started attending hikes on Sunday mornings with the Free Forest School. It's a free (duh) organization that has chapters in tons of cities that meets to do a snack/introduction, short hike (short enough that Royce at just over age 2 could easily complete it), the kids play for about an hour in the woods/stream, and then a story circle and hike back.<br />
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<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Aio2ctnqCXFxEZHHFvrV0O6WMwUiywEnQVydwF_uhPo4gPxjUjJqlidEX1jBPMa898XzMyhhHsvgQI0g5Gw4SfiW8iFeua7vEUu6hWhANkxgm023B1RIq8N9BF4T4H89GnY7R7VG" /><br />
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<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/M-Kh_PQAcTxAPl3bE3iYgVQsAs2Xko6Sct0z3wS_NKboykdci0uOYZhm9noVwbUc2FbC3btAEOn3mN0keHJsTVLQP7TkJ6sVn1T_t02339NgTtzPBYsjJQ8ouj6s90bJVr3WncnT" /><br />
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It's perfect because Eric bartends Saturday nights, so it gets us out of the house Sunday mornings to let him sleep. Everyone I've met has been just so nice and helps me corral my gang out of the forest. I thought I knew real fear on trails in the woods from my background as an ultra runner. I've been out there in<a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2011/11/magically-growing-never-ending-50-mile.html"> pitch black darkness with no idea how much further we had to go</a>, I’ve done a<a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2013/07/rosaryville-50k-recap-3.html"> 50K trail race in July in 90+ degree heat and finished after my buddy succumbed to heat stroke</a>, and I’ve<a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2014/01/phunt-50k-recap.html"> run in freezing temperatures through snow and ice</a>. But here’s what is really scary: trying to coax my two and three year old children out of the woods when they are tired and hungry, while wearing a baby. That’s a true challenge. There was a brief time when I suspected we would have to accept the woods were now our home, but we did make it out (thanks to me carrying Royce while wearing Remi).<br />
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<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/xIoQWXlta5OAA_6VVrsOrw1kFIOkyPEGUaH0EW6d-Ao4O7cX1v91fxluPfP5DP8GcIy1rtfoCK7nU4gmTMtkxW8fXWzSvR-4PG3rquRb6lhs854Vy4wBn0MAdWcrBjU_tWBKzl7b" /><br />
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I even took them downtown, to Port Discovery, a 3 story children’s museum where I once lost Dalton. All by myself, although thank goodness my friend Bobbi met me there and helped out for part of it. I even found free parking and packed us lunches. It takes us a hot minute to get out of the house, but it apparently is doable!<br />
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<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/QjXZW6hOAhu4sONCAW4qAT5AseyuAPVvTKnpPrEl4ANSzg8-9UF0J3bvFwVsr_PogjNlpHJ1nglBybCLwCU-4geUgacWUqpoDVCEA6E4rwGwfAcKSJv-dycE1P_-ISm1lAmT4GSj" /><br />
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I was asked on Instagram questions (is everyone just going to post the question box once, answer it, and then the trend will be over?) what’s the hardest part of having kids? For me, I think it’s just the stress of constantly wondering if I’m raising them right. I don’t find the newborn phase particularly stressful this time around, which is a huge contrast to how I felt as a first time mom. Luckily, Remi is gaining weight, and healthy, so I just kind of let her do her thing and don’t stress over it. I find it so much scarier with the boys, constantly navigating tantrums, trying to decide which battle to chose, wondering if I’m teaching, and more importantly, modeling how to be a good person, feeling guilty when another kid the same age knows more academically, hoping I’m giving each child the attention he needs (probably not), etc, etc. Long story short trying to actually raise kids is a lot harder than just keeping the baby alive.<br />
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The other thing people always ask about is sleep, which is also hard to answer.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/jhb8Q4GKlsBgkDAnNxGYM9m7zvSPtl1b11TZDfWkDF_Y32t1TXqGQ66JjHSF752NY_Jwc40JpjnucIbgVNleN2gxS6hOWGOOrAdxPEEtZektTPuAbyXFoQ5THuF7gAShykY1gFnh" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />Baby sleep?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/PS1eHUiHF3OYMELZgGMwhrZX_wH07mRl4JuVevwSGTF2Hkx_6OnrN0CMSE9bSo-J4ohWPIJH1pw7VrDKnKVN6fp2Sf-NSucA-5M8bqXHpTnxU6azPB962eDix-VS_b6fk4LHIAu8" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toddler sleep?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/i8pqdE50o4fN3TegxNBVteitMe6y3J-4csxH4nnzRHxOml7qWDigjOqCbMZJDpFRE4sRJt0jdqwrkt-M2fUm84IasQ-Fk-GqL6EsHUFjhB39piZtoJ-Qk3X1LZsbk0hIXWb_aDb5" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preschooler sleep? IT ALL ELUDES AND CONFUSES ME</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I don’t want to be too negative, but I also have a strict policy on not speaking about sleep when something good happens, because the baby always somehow finds out and punishes me. And people are SO curious, like for real a random stranger in Safeway wouldn’t let me give my pat answer of “she sleeps like a newborn!” and kept pushing “every 4 hours? 3? HOW OFTEN does she wake up?!” Like I don’t know lady, every night is different, do you want me to figure out the averages and draw up a graph? My hope for newborn sleep is just to wake up only to eat. I don’t even care how often, just wake up to eat and go back to sleep. Of course, babies DGAF what my hope is, so there are plenty of nights I find myself walking her around the bedroom at 1am or bicycling her legs because no one tells you going in to parenting just how much of the first few weeks are spent trying to get them to pass gas in one way or another.<br />
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<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_GrCrIQ78joJ43KzBpvd9WNNVJKIQpAslPvKCuY9hgA4nanJYy8UlR5tnipsK5vr2IazFyVEZhO0652XbhwYu0HlHsb-wmLf-PW9VlUgZ1DreBg61UCM6bF46Fr1c-EdD4EbSvCh" /><br />
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I hear (well, usually see, in Facebook groups) people saying things like “well so and so’s baby slept x hours at y weeks old so I know it’s possible”. To me that’s like saying “well, Michael Phelps swam x distance in y seconds so I know it’s possible”. Like sure, that means it has been done by a human in this world, but that doesn’t mean it’s a given or even remotely close to achievable for most of the rest of us. In my experience of 3 kids, babies are really their own people with their own strengths and weaknesses straight out of the womb, and I’m happier and less anxious when I just embrace it and buckle up for whatever ride this baby is going to take me on. I actually have successfully been using an app to record feedings (I failed with Royce because he was such a constant cluster feeder that I gave up) but I mainly just look at which side she fed on last, and I usually don’t bother looking back to see how many times she ate or how many hours in between, probably because I’m too busy drinking coffee and making more coffee.<br />
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However, in the quest for always finding reasons for things to deal with life as a parent, I decided I have a small breastmilk storage capacity. Dr. Google says that basically means I store a smaller amount of milk at one time, so the baby needs to eat more frequently. It would explain why all my babies have had short, frequent nursing sessions and my tendency towards clogged ducts. So, that settles it, whether it's true or not, it helps me mentally accept many night wakeups and that's all that matters. For anyone who is actually interested,<a href="http://loveandbreastmilk.com/wp/breast-storage-capacity/"> this post</a> explains it really well.<br />
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It does seem that babies are designed perfectly, because right around 6-8 weeks when the new baby adrenaline is starting to wear off and the exhaustion is really starting to hit me, it’s time for BABY SMILES.<br />
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<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/bBnjJBcT8McfhAHheXC8ieK5IHMm52yqsybYTdKINXjzwROPX9WySLvkxb5ai2O71LzrIikTK9_0fgCZnpMyW8WhkWDa8mUuOVtZdic3rHDNYmM-kkqNfyRyJnp_QeeS8b4yN97i" /><br />
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While at 8 weeks old Remi is still smaller than many babies at birth, barely tipping the scales at around 8 pounds, she is making it quite clear she is no longer a brand new baby. She’s smiling, holding her head up, and making eye contact. She still sleeps the majority of her life, and most of her limited awake time is still taken up by eating, diaper changes, and fussing/crying for reasons the world will never know, she’s starting to have really fun happy awake times where she looks around, smiles, kicks, and just being painfully adorable.<br />
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/IlKIV-dt0wnb1mJS7AngZKVJsriQnXrvqwsnHJIhAZIKkDA3bZlW72qa-weBoRm0SiL61MO2vlqkd010Dv68QOal-Bp8bbpF1iohcgD_LEOIKEnUyjm0CcdYH54s-RHDI_UB2Q-X" /><br />
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The boys continue to ask to hold her, Royce more often than Dalton!<br />
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<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/YMRGdzy90E4i7jK6Gd5ZURm3diSf4lH-dVhnmWYHk-7mGaXX4G3MFCEvv7jZlbws9fYaSVEJPxrpJ8Zh6UCVJ58N9c9E6ezmHbh1fSWbSN-lpkZDD3BveUAd0Ak908s1N-8gUg8Z" /><br />
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<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/Klj4s6oF4N7ZsfoGTz1Yfh-fBRUkaA35evxu_C0bJ6nhxoG8p_Z_t_gsEHmWFQ_Mc3ZqQdJiqVBzMkBSSukzXea_1pQbkNRP76QLCRCfce8OpkptvSRfvgfCCtSkFlkd5k1Wywxe" /><br />
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They love bringing her the pacifier, which she is now taking and is a huge improvement in all of our lives. Other than that, she’s pretty boring, as newborns tend to be, so they go about their busy lives of chasing each other, playing, and so forth and aren’t super interested in her.<br />
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<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/c3vLIpgR1EZ-abKZyzXVHyFQwBcZY70Y8lfvKSg6hY0ZR5KrPNSwAqw6qj1UwvFaYQGqh6bu9Y-wGirtHdsOzy1NnC7LJj0szqRtJXgip8UcEZzUDBpdCq58WWXPKVHqWcoX2q8Q" /><br />
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Except once in awhile they are and my heart explodes.<br />
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Other random updates on - me! The person actually writing this blog, not just my offspring. I saw my OB a few weeks ago for my six week checkup, and I'm healing, albeit slower than I would have preferred. My recovery from <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2016/05/royces-birth-story.html">Royce's birth</a> was a lot easier than Dalton's, so I expected the third time to be the easiest yet. Not so much. Probably part of my perceived ease with Royce was that it was a non-emergency c-section compared to <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2014/09/daltons-birth-story.html">Dalton's emergency situation</a>. And, well, it turns out that 3 pregnancies and 3 surgical baby removals in under 4 years is just hard on a 35 year old body. Who knew? But I am on the right path.<br />
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Since my doctor cleared me, I've been working out some! Meeting my running buddy Jackie for walks here and there, but mainly 10-20 minute at home workouts. I have been using an app for just simple upper and lower body weight workouts. I've used the treadmill a few times for run/walks and incline walks. I know from experience that if I try to carve out time for something specific like a 3 mile run or 30 minute video, I'll just get frustrated, so 10 minutes is manageable because even if Remi wakes up I can probably finish before she gets truly pissed. If I hit the treadmill, I just do whatever till she's up with no goal in mind. She sleeps best the more uncomfortable I am, so really hot hilly walks with her in the ergo are generally the best naps of her life. She would absolutely sleep through the night if I were willing to do this from 10pm-6am.<br />
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I'm trying to eat a little more healthy, because, let's face it, it's not fun being fat and having none of your clothes fit. Being pregnant in the summer gets a bad rap because of the heat, but honestly I loved being pregnant with Dalton in the summer and wearing all sorts of cute maternity dresses, showing off my belly. Then, once he was born in late September, it was perfect timing for leggings and sweaters to hide my post partum belly. I'm not losing sleep over it or anything because I know it just comes with the territory and for me, it takes a good amount of time for the baby weight to come off, but I'm not going to pretend to love the extra stomach fat either. Of course, I'm also not going to skip dessert, so, that's where I'm at. But I've actually made some really good salads lately and trying to get back in the habit of cooking lots of vegetables and all that good stuff, so summer is convenient for that.<br />
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I did contract a stomach bug and didn't eat for about 48 hours this weekend, so, should be totes skinny today. Kidding. 0/10 do not recommend with an 8 week old who hates sleep. 10/10 do recommend my amazing husband who bartended till insane early morning hours then woke up with the boys at 5am and dealt with them all day so I could lay down and not move.<br />
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Speaking of my amazing husband, this week was our TEN YEAR wedding anniversary. Like, when we got married, Snapchat, Instagram, and Pinterest didn't even exist. That's how long ago it was. A whole different world. Much like our actual wedding day, we woke up separately - me upstairs with Remi, him in the boys' room after one of them woke up crying and he ended up sleeping on the floor.<br />
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<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/q0r2XFuRwmSdhW-zqWxhrjbolvRwQYrbDryOmrKwcjWbm5Q7S88mjK_Le9-RYJksgPbWkiwxurMqYTrVis3DjSH1scIoYslgfZYyDItKqXUrEN6c2wqK8tNIDXk1h06DtA1KMcKQ" /><br />
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Flowers from that guy I married.<br />
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I thought about asking a friend to come over after the boys were down and going out on a dinner date with Remi, but then realized "going out" sounded horrible. See previous paragraphs about no clothes fitting and babies not sleeping. We put the boys down a bit early and ordered dinner from El Salto, one of our favorite restaurants, and attempted to watch our wedding DVD, but it wouldn't play, because we are so old and married DVD players aren't even a thing anymore. We watched Celebrity Family Feud instead because we've been oddly into that lately. There will be plenty of time for date nights, but right now I'm happy hanging out together on the couch (although we did go out for my 35th birthday last month!).<br />
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<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/EyJPpUoED654UvZX0BZ_6c55DV73AKhQ1kXsbfAJDaUDJow3rglS9Ge4Tbx8K0IjvbxgnFutiQC73Oz8AZY52hkTAkuJ5TRfnBPdIA32iQqehAJBnFrD9_PNZP4aZD8YjY2mK0J4" /><br />
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And that's where we are at currently. I'm completely overwhelmed, but not more so than you would expect from someone with a newborn, 2 year old and 3 year old? If that makes sense?<br />
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<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/wNiuxm-f8X9FatCXIiZoNSDDAbGAvo66jPMh-QtHTCJD54gGP7j1SH97BumHDFz8EOfnHh_TQ0-vvcubHmrQj6V64_R1hkK01fOA2GHIYXwMFHn5eeV6H9GRdMHov_3crAZg2RtD" /><br />
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How I wrote most of this post.<br />
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-19225889515671741762018-06-20T17:11:00.000-04:002018-06-20T17:11:05.800-04:00Welcome home, Remington!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We got to our room in the Mother/Baby unit late Friday night after Remington's birth. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bGfFwsEuLLY/Wxh7GDBVbyI/AAAAAAABCm0/fpc3iyddaSQ4c5kSxJpXHv33jqIr_pgZwCLcBGAs/s1600/P5264987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bGfFwsEuLLY/Wxh7GDBVbyI/AAAAAAABCm0/fpc3iyddaSQ4c5kSxJpXHv33jqIr_pgZwCLcBGAs/s640/P5264987.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not gonna lie, I had been planning on doing hair and makeup for my planned c-section and looking awesome. That didn't happen. </td></tr>
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My mom and stepdad arrived from upstate NY (about 400 miles away) around 1am and were excited to hear the sex and name announcement. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8KYB1kCsvQ/Wxh7GjBBReI/AAAAAAABCm8/RBMaP37_6d8oTF6JXyoWDEJ4eaTCjEmmgCLcBGAs/s1600/P5264944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8KYB1kCsvQ/Wxh7GjBBReI/AAAAAAABCm8/RBMaP37_6d8oTF6JXyoWDEJ4eaTCjEmmgCLcBGAs/s320/P5264944.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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We hung out until 2am or so. I was exhausted but knew from experience there's no sleeping the night after a c-section, between the itching from the epidural, the calf sleeves that constantly expand and contract, and overall grogginess from drugs combined with adrenaline from HAVING A BABY. Remi nursed from between 2-3am and I just found this gorgeous picture on my phone 3 weeks later. Basically Kate Middleton here.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKrUY0rLHYg/Wyq9k9ksTGI/AAAAAAABDUc/uC0WepubKzYv8dM7dnIhisajwQPe_fCjgCLcBGAs/s1600/popsicle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="357" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKrUY0rLHYg/Wyq9k9ksTGI/AAAAAAABDUc/uC0WepubKzYv8dM7dnIhisajwQPe_fCjgCLcBGAs/s320/popsicle.JPG" width="179" /></a></div>
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We sent her to the nursery from 3-5 am so Eric could sleep and I could lay in bed and pretend like I understood the book I was "reading" (The Golden State Killer). The nurse brought her back to eat around 5am and Eric was dead to the world and I was like STARBUCKS IS OPEN OFF YOU GO.<br />
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Obviously the big event on the first day of Remington's life was meeting her big brothers!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A7xWCfs7ZKY/Wxh7GvMYmiI/AAAAAAABCm4/HcK2fxTDdrkkxlBuCps8e62FmXtqyy1GQCLcBGAs/s1600/P5264995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A7xWCfs7ZKY/Wxh7GvMYmiI/AAAAAAABCm4/HcK2fxTDdrkkxlBuCps8e62FmXtqyy1GQCLcBGAs/s640/P5264995.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Royce surprised us all by being really into it! He was and continues to be fascinated by her and gentle and loving towards her. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Probably one of my favorite pictures of all time. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took this beautiful, frameable first family of five picture. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes I still look around like omg there are three of them.</td></tr>
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We are so grateful to our friends Carrie and Derek for watching the boys the night Remington was born, and to my mom and stepdad for driving down and taking them the next night. After that, my parents had to leave Sunday to get back for work Monday (no Memorial Day holiday for my mom). Eric went home Sunday afternoon, so Remi and I were on our own the last two nights of our four night hospital stay. I would have been appalled at the mere thought of that my first time through, but with the third baby, it felt like a vacation to just lay in bed and watch movies with her. I almost felt guilty that all I had to do was push a button and nurses brought me ice water or took my baby to the nursery for me to sleep while Eric was at home chasing the boys around, but, I did just have surgery to give him a child, so.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girls hospital date!</td></tr>
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Tuesday morning, Eric took the boys to daycare and then came to pick us up and go home.<br />
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Remi was not impressed. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yzS-qmUvvR4/Wxr14NXGWaI/AAAAAAABCuM/3a3D7YlsJvQ1bHZD8nlqbs8_4fulq9cDgCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bcoming%2Bhome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="609" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yzS-qmUvvR4/Wxr14NXGWaI/AAAAAAABCuM/3a3D7YlsJvQ1bHZD8nlqbs8_4fulq9cDgCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bcoming%2Bhome.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What is it about those tiny brand new babies in the car seat for the first time that is to die for?</td></tr>
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And thus began our life as a family of five!<br />
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Not to be outdone by little things like a new baby or a newly aquired middle child status, Royce made sure to keep us on our toes. On Remi's very first day of life, my mom had told Dalton that they would go to the hospital to meet the baby once Royce was up from his nap. Dalton peered down the hallway where their bedrooms are and announced "he's up!". My stepfather asked "How do you know?" and before Dalton could respond, Royce came flying down the hall on his scooter! Prior to that, he had climbed in and out of his crib a handful of times while we were in there playing, but he had never exited on his own, and he had never opened the door by himself, at least that I was aware of - I didn't even think he could reach well enough to open it! So much for our plan to transition him to a bed in late fall when it's time for Remi to take over the crib. I don't even know why in 3.75 years of parenting we still come up with these "plans". </div>
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We kept him in the crib another week, since we figured maybe we should wait until we got home from the hospital at least. When Remi was just 9 days old, the boys helped Eric build a second toddler bed. </div>
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We had foolishly "planned" to get them bunkbeds, but we didn't want to buy those on the fly. I found a toddler bed in a local mom group, being sold brand new in box for $30 just a few miles from our house so...for the moment I have zero kids in cribs! </div>
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Doing the big crib to bed transition with a one week old just didn't seem reckless enough. After 3 or 4 days of Royce being in his bed, we moved his bed into Dalton's room, because why not? Honestly it was Eric's idea to jump in with both feet (we always planned to have the boys share a room eventually) and I was like whatever I'll be on baby duty so you do you, boo. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture makes me so happy - his beautiful smile is almost impossible to capture in a photo!</td></tr>
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Speaking of sleep, that's the number one question it seems people ask when you have a new baby. I know I'm just as guilty with asking about this, too. Everyone wants to know how sleep is, and I would say it's just about as expected for having a 3.5 week old baby! The first 3 weeks were a total blur. Everyone always wants to know how long are the sleep stretches? And keep pressing you even if you say you don't know. With Remi and Royce I was like WHAT ARE SLEEP STRETCHES. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X0SJ-ItKfWs/Wxr15uMPb6I/AAAAAAABCuY/NptsPWO6eOwi6gQim742J5oW6aWXgbE2ACLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bsleeping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="1082" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X0SJ-ItKfWs/Wxr15uMPb6I/AAAAAAABCuY/NptsPWO6eOwi6gQim742J5oW6aWXgbE2ACLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bsleeping.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It was an all night cycle of fuss, latch, start to eat, fall back asleep, go back in bed, baby realizes it's alone in a bed, baby gets pissed, begin cycle again, repeat 10-6 am. With a few "stretches" thrown in where I wake up with her in bed with me and realize we both actually slept for some amount of time (don't worry I researched safe bedsharing and follow all the guidelines). Possibly a few diaper changes thrown in as well. I woke up each morning feeling like I'd been on a black out bender with no clue what actually happened, only vague ideas. </div>
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Once she hit 3 weeks, I started to see a few of these so called "sleep stretches". She's started to consolidate eating and sleeping into separate events. She's still, you know, a brand new baby, so the nights are still filled with swaddling/diaper changes/crying and all the usual stuff of babies being babies. While it's certainly stressful at 2am when I just desperately want to sleep, it's so much easier the third time around. I don't have the added anxiety of being positive I'll never sleep again, and agonizing over what I did wrong. I can just be like "well this sucks" in the moment, and then forget about it over strong coffee in the light of day. A wise perspective I certainly did not have when Dalton was born and I was 100% positive every cry was a result of something I had screwed up.<br />
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The boys love to come see her after they wake up each morning, and take turns kissing and holding her while I mainline black cold brew. It's pretty much the best. And I maintain my position that while having a newborn is certainly exhausting, nothing is more tiring than being pregnant with a toddler (or if there is something, I'm not interested in it).<br />
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Other random stuff: breastfeeding is going well! Remi was back at her birth weight within a week of life. She was born at 5lbs 11oz and weighed 6lbs 1 oz at 13 days old. She's still a teeny little peanut and drowning in most newborn clothes, the two preemie outfits she's tried have fit perfectly though. I love, love, love dressing her and girl clothes are more fun than I ever could have expected. I loved dressing the boys as babies too, but, I have to admit that girl clothes are just even cuter. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fRyk3taNdPs/Wxr15Z_bVdI/AAAAAAABCuU/Dv-cPHqijjw41fG1ZS8VbUjtOZ78ZPEAQCLcBGAs/s1600/Remi%2Bpink%2Boutfit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="609" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fRyk3taNdPs/Wxr15Z_bVdI/AAAAAAABCuU/Dv-cPHqijjw41fG1ZS8VbUjtOZ78ZPEAQCLcBGAs/s640/Remi%2Bpink%2Boutfit.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I have the Haakaa pump this time around. It's a silicone hand pump that you use on the non nursing side to collect the leakage and it suctions to your breast. It's been amazing to just reduce the engorgement enough to be comfortable, but not enough to tell my body to produce more milk like actual pumping would. </div>
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C-section recovery has been a bit rough. I thought that since the second recovery was easier than the first, the third would be a walk in the park. Apparently with all the scar tissue built up by this point, that's not the case. I've taken it very easy and I'm great at just laying around and binge watching shows when it's just me and Remi. But it's pretty hard to resist playing with these two adorable little boys, especially when Dalton does things like look up so sweetly at me and say "you can come on our walk with us mommy". Royce is nearly double my lifting limit of 15lbs, but a few times I've picked him up unintentionally - it's just such an ingrained habit! Eric is great about playing with them, dressing them, essentially doing everything with them, it's just that while I'm trying I'm not quite <i>as </i>great about not doing things. Having them still in daycare helps a lot though. There's been a few times I've been solo with all 3 of them while he had to work at the bar or had to go into school and everyone survived. So that's a super long explanation of why I'm still moving pretty slowly and having abdominal pain. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first family of 5 outing - to a local farm for their strawberry festival. </td></tr>
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That post only took me about 3 weeks to write! I was hoping to better keep up with blogging my experiences, but with the third baby I'm all too aware of how quickly it passes and how soon she won't be interested in just snuggling in my arms. Baby > blogging. </div>
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-70156493886267203952018-05-31T21:27:00.001-04:002018-05-31T21:27:05.370-04:00Remington's Birth Story<div class="MsoNormal">
Remington Scarlett Lindsey was born on May 25, 2018, at 7:47pm, 5 lbs, 11.6 oz, 18 inches long.</div>
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When I got the scheduled date for my c-section at my first
OB appointment back in November, I just knew it didn’t feel right. I’ve been
saying since the beginning I just didn’t think that date was my baby’s
birthday. And as much as I would roll my eyes at how smug and woo woo that sounds,<span style="color: red;"> </span>I was right!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Friday, May 25, I was 37 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I had
ten days left until my scheduled c-section, and I was trying hard to convince
myself ten more days of being pregnant was nothing. I took the boys to daycare
around 8, planning to spend the day finishing making my freezer meals. I had made 3
the day before, a serious accomplishment at that point in my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When I got back, I wasn’t feeling too well so I decided to
lie down for a bit before getting started in the kitchen. The previous evening,
I had been getting nervous because I hadn’t felt the baby move as much as
usual. I couldn’t remember feeling it at all that morning, either. I tried some
juice and laying on my side and that got the baby hiccupping and kicking a bit,
so I relaxed and took a nap. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When I woke up, I started on the first recipe, but I just
couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that although I had felt movement, it just
wasn’t as intense and was definitely less frequent. I’ve had this experience
with each pregnancy at some point, and I always hesitate calling the doctor,
even though she always encourages me to. I kept telling myself it was just
because the baby was running out of room this close to the end. Finally, some
friends told me to just call, especially since it was the Friday before a 3 day
weekend. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The office was at lunch, so I took a shower and, oddly,
vacuumed. While I’m normally quite a slob, I’d been on edge once I hit full
term at 37 weeks thinking of someone having to come stay in a filthy house with
the boys if I went into labor, and I had a tiny feeling I might not be
returning that afternoon. I even considered using the special soap the doctor
gave me to use before my c-section, but told myself I was being ridiculous.
After all, I’d had a similar experience just 4 days before Dalton was born, where
I went in, did a non stress test (checking the baby’s heart rate and
contractions) that showed he was fine, and went home. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still, just in case, I put a few last minute items in my
hospital bag and brought it with me. And downloaded a new book to my kindle, clearly top priority. My
doctor’s office had told me to go to the perinatal center in the hospital, where, after a long wait, they did an ultrasound. Right away even I could see movement
and the heart beating, which was a huge relief. The tech did some measurements
and everything seemed routine. Then she was working for a while doing
measurements on the baby’s head. As they measure, the measurements will pop up
in gestational time, and I kept seeing things around 33 or 34 weeks for the
head. There’s always a huge variation in these measurements since they are a work in progress, at least in my experience with ultrasounds. But consistently
seeing measurements that far off was starting to worry me. I asked if the head was measuring ok and
while she’d previously been quick to tell me everything looked fine, she said
the doctor would talk to me and went to put the measurements in. I waited for a
few minutes, then she came back and said she needed a closer look at blood in
the cord because the baby was measuring a bit small. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wouldn’t say I was completely panicked by that but I
wouldn’t say I was totally calm either. Of course, she wasn’t able to get the
measurements for a while because the baby began practicing breathing, which
apparently prevents it. We awkwardly sat there in silence and I asked her about
her weekend plans to try to slow down my mind from racing. She got the measurements
and just kept reiterating the doctor would talk to me when I asked further
questions. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The doctor on call came in and introduced herself. She
explained that the baby was measuring small and since I was nearly 38 weeks,
they recommend delivery. Later on, at the pediatrician's office, I was told that's called IUGR (intrauterine growth retardation), and my non medical background newborn haze Dr. Google understanding is that it means baby isn't growing well inside and it's better to let it grow outside.<br />
<br />
Even though I had been saying for six months that the
baby would arrive early, and had even brought my hospital bag in preparation
for this very possibility, hearing it totally overwhelmed me and I immediately
started ugly crying. It wasn’t even necessarily upset crying, just all the
feels crying from hearing there might be a risk to the baby and the idea that I
would be meeting him or her that day. Unlike when you go into labor and are
trying to process meeting your baby on top of dealing with the intense physical
symptoms (generally PAIN), it was so different just being able to completely
focus on the shift that this ordinary day had suddenly just become my baby’s birthday.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The doctor told me to go up to Labor and Delivery for a non stress
test and to prepare to have a baby! In retrospect I wish I had asked more
questions but my mind was on overdrive just thinking about the boys and who I
needed to call to get them taken care of. I had called Eric while waiting for
the doctor but he hadn’t answered (even though after him not answering when <a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2016/05/royces-birth-story.html">mywater broke with Royce</a> I had told him about 500 times he needed to have his
phone on him every second and answer every call from me). I went out into the
lobby and called my friend Carrie. She answered jokily asking “is it time?” and
then when I was just crying into the phone she realized it really was go time!
She is amazing and jumped into action, told me everything would be under
control while she picked up the boys from daycare and they would have a
sleepover at her house. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once I had gone back and forth giving both her and our
daycare provider all the necessary information, I tried calling Eric again and
got voicemail again. It wasn’t long after dismissal, so I called our school and
had the secretary page him. This got his attention, but then in the confusion
of having the secretary relay the message and trying to check into labor and
delivery, somehow the part of the message that this wasn’t an emergency or a
time sensitive situation at all got lost. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had last eaten around 11am, so they told me they would do
the c-section sometime after 7pm, to give me 8 hours between food and surgery. I
checked in to labor and delivery around 3:30pm, got dressed in the hospital
gown, and started hanging out on the fetal monitor. Luckily right away it
showed that the baby was doing great, and the nurse was wonderful about
continuing to update me that baby was doing well. After being checked this way
in triage several times in the past (<a href="http://chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com/2014/09/daltons-birth-story.html">the first time in the hospital withDalton, the second time in the hospital with Dalton</a>, maybe with Royce but I can’t
remember), I can safely say it’s a lot more pleasant without contractions! I
was just relaxing, chatting with the nurse, texting friends, and trying to get
my head around meeting my baby in just a few hours. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_3xO6eyjaKk/Ww7lthsDM8I/AAAAAAABCUs/to-P1WV1KVAeelunNDe-qX_axcoP1haaACLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_174616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_3xO6eyjaKk/Ww7lthsDM8I/AAAAAAABCUs/to-P1WV1KVAeelunNDe-qX_axcoP1haaACLcBGAs/s640/20180525_174616.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crying + super pregnant = super attractive.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somewhere in there I did manage to talk to Eric and explain
the situation, so he ended up going home first to get his hospital bag and put
away the food I had left out in my aborted freezer meal preparation. I also
called my mom to update her on the fact that the baby would be arriving that
night! Our original plan had been for her and my stepfather to come the day before our scheduled c-section and stay with the boys. I told her there was no rush to
come down since Carrie was watching the kids and Eric could always go home and stay with
them the following night. Plus, she was supposed to watch my niece and nephew
that weekend. She told me she would call me back, and called back about 5
minutes later to say they were coming that night. I felt bad they would have to
drive so late but I was definitely excited to see them! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a lot of waiting around, the anesthesiologist came in
to go over the procedure with me. I was starting to get really nervous.
Everyone there was like you’ve been there done that! It’s different in labor
though! I’m sure someone explained the procedure and risks of the epidural to
me before but while dealing with contractions I probably didn’t listen and
definitely didn’t care. When I was actually able to focus my full attention on
it, it was pretty scary to hear about all the stuff they would be inserting
into my spine. He was great about reassuring me that everything would be fine though. I also trust my doctor completely, and the assisting doctor was the man who had delivered Dalton, even though neither of us remembered each other! That seemed like a good omen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The anesthesiologist left a little after 7, saying they
would take me to the OR pretty soon. At that point, we decided to take out our
list of names and settle on a boy’s middle name, and a girl’s name period. We
got the boy’s middle name pretty easily (because, really, it’s just a middle name).
We had come across the name Remington on the Baby Name app, which is like
tinder. You both swipe right and left to show whether or not you like a name, and you
get notified when you have a match. We actually first found the name right after our
20 week ultrasound, and it had been on our short list, but I just couldn’t
commit to that or any other girl’s name. Scarlett was one of our other top girl
choices. It had been our agreed upon girl name for both previous pregnancies.
As we waited to head to the OR, Eric suggested Remington Scarlett, and used an
app to write it (like, in his handwriting, not typing) on his phone. I suddenly
really liked it, but still said we had to wait and see the sex. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They came and got me around 7:15. It was so weird to walk
into the OR! I entered through the employee door, too, so I got a behind the
scenes view. It was very surreal being
in the OR. Of course, I’d been there twice before, but it’s still a bit
frightening seeing all the instruments and medical equipment they are about to
use on me. They warned Eric that it would take about 20 minutes to prep me, so
he would be waiting outside the door for a bit but that didn’t mean anything was
wrong. I found a series of these pictures on his phone later, so I guess he
passed the time just fine. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lKOt-sTmywU/Ww7ltuDgTMI/AAAAAAABCUo/g_BB-w1_L3QpReKRGlt4653YusMAeEv5QCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_192734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lKOt-sTmywU/Ww7ltuDgTMI/AAAAAAABCUo/g_BB-w1_L3QpReKRGlt4653YusMAeEv5QCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_192734.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They had me walk to the operating table, sit, and curl up in
a c shape. A nurse held my hands while I leaned over a table and the
anesthesiologist did both a spinal block (to numb me during surgery) and an
epidural (for pain management after surgery). Other than the initial shot to
numb the area, it didn’t really hurt but definitely felt weird and I could feel
the thread going in for the epidural. I got some odd funny bone type shocks
down my leg and immediately started feeling numb below the ribs. Once I was
good to go, they laid me down on the table and wiped something on my belly.
After that dried, they started testing me by asking if I could feel different
pinches and hot and cold in various areas on my belly. I felt a little bit of
it which ramped up my anxiety that they were going to start cutting and I was
going to feel everything. Of course, I trust that they know what they are
doing, but I’m not sure anyone, definitely not me, will ever feel totally
relaxed and comfortable lying on an operating table waiting for your abdomen to
get sliced open. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A nice thing about a non-emergency c section is that everyone
was relaxed and chatting with me. That really helped me relax as much as anyone
can in that situation. They did some further belly tests and this time I couldn’t
feel any of them, which was the cue to bring Eric in and get started! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The anesthesiologist had already given me something after I’d
complained of nausea when I first laid down. Apparently the spinal can cause
low blood pressure and nausea is a normal side effect. Once they began the
surgery, I got extremely nauseous again and began dry heaving into a bin they
set next to me. I had kind of hoped to be having a nicer experience waiting for
them to pull our baby out, not being about to throw up all over the table. Just
before I actually puked, I guess he got my blood pressure back up and the nausea
and dry heaving went away immediately. Then I got the experience I had been
hoping for, just laying there holding Eric’s hand with both of us full of
anticipation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wdCpHbNk874/Ww7lttvn4xI/AAAAAAABCUk/flOouoNbzcA9vq4W_FeeC_wEsFav-ef9gCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_194414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wdCpHbNk874/Ww7lttvn4xI/AAAAAAABCUk/flOouoNbzcA9vq4W_FeeC_wEsFav-ef9gCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_194414.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plus taking selfies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had decided with Royce’s birth that Eric would go behind
the curtain and announce the sex. This time, we had asked to both see the baby
together. Once the baby was out, they removed the blue drape and put up a clear
one. My doctor brought the baby over and held it up excitedly saying “look!”.
I was pretty sure I was seeing a girl, stared for a moment trying to make sure
there was no penis, and then announced “it’s a girl!”. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E1_CKgMIRoc/Ww7luVkMYlI/AAAAAAABCUw/ovlLjf3jKtcwILcWoEtzOKvSLezY2Du5gCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_194712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E1_CKgMIRoc/Ww7luVkMYlI/AAAAAAABCUw/ovlLjf3jKtcwILcWoEtzOKvSLezY2Du5gCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_194712.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remington being born!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7saTR-ubTrQ/Ww7lvI1CgDI/AAAAAAABCU0/X-1rh49K2iYTD3w6kStQu71OdTMCPUl3ACLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_194745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7saTR-ubTrQ/Ww7lvI1CgDI/AAAAAAABCU0/X-1rh49K2iYTD3w6kStQu71OdTMCPUl3ACLcBGAs/s640/20180525_194745.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right after announcing "it's a girl!". </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was in such disbelief I didn’t even trust myself, but none
of the many people in the room were correcting me. While they checked her out
and cut the cord and all, Eric just kept staring at each other and repeating “it’s
a girl! We had a girl!”. We could hear her crying nice and loud and found out
right away that she passed her APGARs (8 and 9!) and was completely healthy. Her weight
was just 5lbs, 11.6 oz – such a teeny little peanut! They brought her to me and
I got to see her little face and kiss her warm soft skin. Then I had to
impatiently wait to hold her while I was stitched up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ckw013mDHPg/Ww7lvYgsSPI/AAAAAAABCU4/jTWRh4JUlZkg3bZFA_ILMhDkBwAW73iJgCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_195916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ckw013mDHPg/Ww7lvYgsSPI/AAAAAAABCU4/jTWRh4JUlZkg3bZFA_ILMhDkBwAW73iJgCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_195916.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first sight of Remington!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sJtTklRm8XE/Ww7lvv8d7rI/AAAAAAABCU8/N1R86HrytX854Efezsq8IirX6qvbA4GggCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_200408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="609" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sJtTklRm8XE/Ww7lvv8d7rI/AAAAAAABCU8/N1R86HrytX854Efezsq8IirX6qvbA4GggCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_200408.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Meeting my daughter. Still can't believe it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once she was all ready, Eric got to take her ahead to the recovery room. When they wheeled me in, I couldn’t believe how impossibly tiny she looked in his arms. My mom said she knew it was a girl because in the picture Eric sent confirming the baby was here and healthy, he had a real smile instead of his using cheesing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tJt093lVSdg/Ww7lvmzgn4I/AAAAAAABCVA/99_ToBuMDEsQgAof6WunRMKIrp85eCSJACLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_201345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="609" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tJt093lVSdg/Ww7lvmzgn4I/AAAAAAABCVA/99_ToBuMDEsQgAof6WunRMKIrp85eCSJACLcBGAs/s640/20180525_201345.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proud dad.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Back in recovery, I "finally" got to hold her. I'm sure it was a short amount of time in reality but it felt so long to me!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XnYBgUiQlkE/Ww7lwpczkaI/AAAAAAABCVI/ZW6wEOyEUtcJkI_kvST4UvHIvuD1lnjLgCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_203003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="609" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XnYBgUiQlkE/Ww7lwpczkaI/AAAAAAABCVI/ZW6wEOyEUtcJkI_kvST4UvHIvuD1lnjLgCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_203003.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9WKrj94NV5c/WxB3LJXxZYI/AAAAAAABCYI/-1j40GkE0hgI7bQeWUciWpLFG--_B22NQCLcBGAs/s1600/P5264986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9WKrj94NV5c/WxB3LJXxZYI/AAAAAAABCYI/-1j40GkE0hgI7bQeWUciWpLFG--_B22NQCLcBGAs/s640/P5264986.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VDsarhxiG8g/Ww7lwF0SJRI/AAAAAAABCVE/QQyLOt4OdZs6ljpmQVF5DP7EBxkXj09wQCLcBGAs/s1600/20180525_202857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="609" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VDsarhxiG8g/Ww7lwF0SJRI/AAAAAAABCVE/QQyLOt4OdZs6ljpmQVF5DP7EBxkXj09wQCLcBGAs/s640/20180525_202857.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />I had planned to ask the nurse to help me latch her on for her first feeding, but once she was on my chest she was latched on before I could even open my mouth. She nursed for a long time, I was really impressed she didn't need any help, especially being small and born early. I ignored my phone during her first feeding and just focused on staring at her and touching her tiny little self. It's already a blur in my mind, not even a week out, but I'm still glad I had that quiet skin to skin time with her right away.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GI5FHHlHsTQ/WxB3KaELDZI/AAAAAAABCX8/ksTjkh-6tRMtQ3oiltMoatWxAtoRvTJsACLcBGAs/s1600/P5264960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GI5FHHlHsTQ/WxB3KaELDZI/AAAAAAABCX8/ksTjkh-6tRMtQ3oiltMoatWxAtoRvTJsACLcBGAs/s640/P5264960.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And that's the story of our little Remi entering the world and becoming a family of 5! As my friend said, "your kids always have to make an entrance!". I'm glad Remington's was still pretty uneventful though, even being a bit earlier than expected. Next blog post up (eventually, when I write it): meeting her big brothers!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cCrG0npWh5o/WxB3KXaMfLI/AAAAAAABCYA/5_z3LwR6iBI98PXneAKbef-Cy6VFKPd-gCLcBGAs/s1600/P5264982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cCrG0npWh5o/WxB3KXaMfLI/AAAAAAABCYA/5_z3LwR6iBI98PXneAKbef-Cy6VFKPd-gCLcBGAs/s640/P5264982.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
Is there actually anything better than tiny baby feet? No, there is not.<br />
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-55190533046456072962018-05-17T06:18:00.000-04:002018-05-17T06:18:18.071-04:00It's gonna be MAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Huge stuff going on around here. I'm not even sure where to begin. That one time Royce climbed out of his crib (during playtime, not night, so far!)?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He cray.</td></tr>
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Speaking of Royce, allow me to be the world's oldest mom cliche for a moment and say my baby is two!<br />
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We had a party at our house last weekend, and as usual I said it was going to be casual and low key and then drove myself crazy trying to make all the food from scratch. It was a "Taco Twosday" party so Eric smoked chicken and pork and I made guacamole, beans and rice, and got the toppings ready. It doesn't even sound like that much now but on top of cleaning (with two kids running around, an exercise in futility) it felt stressful I guess. And, of course, we made an amazing cake!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my little helpers!</td></tr>
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The party included 11 kids ages 4 and under and all their adults and was just the right mix of fun and chaotic. All the kids had a great time and most of the sangria was consumed so it seemed to be a success!<br />
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I don't know if it's a youngest kid thing but Royce just still seems like such a little baby to me. It's kind of a shock to see him next to an actual baby and realize he is, in fact, a kid at this point. I've been getting a little emotional when I snuggle him before he goes to bed lately about the fact that he won't be the baby anymore. Of course, I know kids will all always be their mothers' babies, but he won't be the baby of the family and I know as soon as I see him next to a newborn he will seem <i>so</i> big. Which isn't a bad thing, kids are supposed to grow, obviously, it's just bitter sweet. And of course I have guilt about relegating him to middle child status. But he is so much fun at this age! He can do so much more now and is so much more independent and less frustrated then just a few months ago. Basically just all the feels. </div>
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Moving on, other May "holidays" - our version of Disney world comes right after Royce's birthday. Big Truck Day. The Department of Public Works brings basically every kind of truck you could imagine to a huge parking lot and the kids can climb in them, turn on the sirens and lights, beep the horns, etc. While some kids get excited to meet Mickey or Elmo, my kids live to touch a real live garbage truck. It's pretty convenient for us since this is 1. Free and 2. Like 10 miles from our house. Last year we really lucked out with cold and rainy weather so we pretty much had run of the place. This year was high 80s and sunny so it was packed and there were lines, but we still had fun. Royce did surprisingly well waiting on the lines! Dalton too, but he's more used to the idea. Waiting on lines at age 2 can be the worst thing that ever happened to a person, based on our experiences with slides at the playground.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the police boat.</td></tr>
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The following day was Mother's Day. After the previous weekend being on the crazy side with Royce's party, we had no plans and stayed in pjs all day, which is my heaven. Eric smoked meat and made homemade cinnamon bread. I did change to workout clothes briefly for a walk with my (normally running) buddy Jackie. It was a perfect day. I had brought the giant exercise ball up from the basement the night before because sitting was starting to get uncomfortable. The boys thought this was the best thing ever and brought their own balls up to join me bouncing. No pictures so instead here's a picture of them jumping through a mud puddle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pure glee</td></tr>
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"The boys" got me a prenatal massage gift card for Mother's Day! My friends got me a gift card for one when I was pregnant with Dalton, and it felt great but I haven't had one since. I'm pretty excited for this. Mother's Day doesn't get much better than a full day of hanging out with my favorite people. Well, unless our own mothers could have joined us, but they will be here to meet the baby soon enough!<br />
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Again, super cliche, but I can't believe next year I'll be a mom of 3!<br />
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Driving to work yesterday, it suddenly really hit me that the baby will be here in less than 3 weeks, in an intimidating way. Which is weird, because I've literally spent every moment since I saw the second line being impatient to meet the baby. When we did our first ultrasound at 6 weeks, I told Eric I wished we were coming to the hospital to have the baby. And meant it 100%. Then when I told him I was suddenly freaked out, he was like "why? We've done it twice before!". I'm nowhere near as freaked out as those times, but it's still a big deal to add a baby to your family! Plus that's easy for him to say, not being the one who has to actually birth this child. I think I just had a moment of loving our family dynamic so much right now, and being scared to change it. While I know it's essentially nothing in the long run, I anticipate my c-section recovery being a bit difficult emotionally because I'm going to miss the boys and not really be able to play with them at all at first. Which sounds silly, because it will be like 2 weeks, but I hate even having to go one day without it! I know obviously I'll feel differently because I'll be spending time with the baby, not just hanging out alone, but the baby isn't here yet and they are and I'm going to miss them.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brothers and workout buddies</td></tr>
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Of course, I'm still thinking of how awesome it would be if the baby arrived at 37 weeks (which I hit Saturday, but my doctor is going to pick up her son from college, so don't send me any labor vibes till Monday!) and I would get to meet him or her two weeks earlier than planned, so, clearly not <i>that </i>concerned. I haven't been that scared of how the boys will transition because I'm telling myself they aren't going from only child to a sibling. As far as they know, they have been brothers their whole lives (I mean, obviously Royce actually has and Dalton remembers no different, he asked me yesterday "when I was a baby was Royce a big boy?" and I tried to explain Royce wasn't born yet but I failed and he was lost) so they are used to not being the only ones around. And they will still have each other and nothing about that will be changing, even if Eric and I will have a big new responsibility. It's probably wishful thinking but it helps me to focus on the fact that they have each other!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out, eating pickles</td></tr>
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TL:DR I'm super pregnant and having all the feels and decided to brain dump them in a way that may or may not make sense.<br />
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Last but not least, I'm now on maternity leave! I got choked up when I drove away from work the final time the other day just thinking that I get the next two years with these guys and don't have to leave them at any point. I'm just <i>so </i>ridiculously<i> </i>excited and grateful to have this time to spend with them (and the baby of course!). I was telling my friend who is a SAHM how much I had been looking forward to taking them to Chick Fil A for breakfast yesterday morning and it seemed so silly, but having a lazy Wednesday morning getting to hang out and play with them is new to me! I'm sure I'm romanticizing it and it won't be rainbows and unicorns 24/7 but I can't go wrong with going into it positively, right? We still have daycare until next month so I'm not experiencing the real deal just yet!<br />
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Last but not least, everyone needs to go to my friend Emily's <a href="https://emilyrgarnett.com/">blog</a>. She's only 33 and has a hilarious and adorable 2.5 year old son. She was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer this past fall. Being the amazing person she is, she's turning a devastating diagnosis into a way to help others. You'll be amazed at how beautifully she writes about something so difficult. She's writing to help others who have been recently diagnosed navigate the process, and has started a movement called Survivor Letters as well. I've always considered her to be far more eloquent than me (seriously, even in texts she can always explain what I mean better than I can) so I'll leave her words to explain this movement.<br />
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "Open Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">Survivor Letters aims to be a virtual hug for all of those touched by breast cancer, from family members, friends, to the newly diagnosed themselves. They are stories of camaraderie, and courage, struggle and inspiration, and a battle cry for all of those bogged down by the new world of life with cancer."</span></div>
Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-90019704825450891112018-04-19T12:54:00.003-04:002018-04-19T12:54:46.552-04:00No more pumping in a closet!<br />
The way this blog works now is whenever I have a little time, I write down something about my kids that I want to remember. You're welcome. This is like a month of "work" compiled together.<br />
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Dalton REALLY likes precision of language. He gets all kerfluffled if I say something like "Royce, we keep our shoes on in the car" as his brother takes his shoes off while I'm driving. Like he does during every car ride. All toddlers do this, right? Dalton of course immediately pipes up from the backseat "you mean VAN mommy?". Yes, of course, silly me. We made brownies for St. Patrick's Day and had friends over. One of his little friends referred to them as "cake". Dalton was like NOT UP IN HERE and immediately made sure his friend realized they were "brownies, they are not cake".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture makes him look like a teenager. Dislike.</td></tr>
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Royce is so sweet and at that age where he just wants to be part of things. If I'm chopping vegetables, he wants to be on the counter at least with a spoon to pretend. When Dalton hurt his foot and requested a kiss on it, Royce was right in there too with his foot up for his kiss. When Dalton says beep beep and backs his trucks up, Royce immediately stops what he's doing to walk backwards. I feel so bad for him sometimes because there are inevitably just things he is too little to do that he sees his brother and friends doing and he gets so upset about it. Being one is so hard. I wonder if this will be a trend his whole life, but, maybe not? I mean, is there <i>that </i>much say, a seven year old can do that a six year old can't? I'm hoping as they get older the gap in their ages will continue to seem more and more minute. Of course, then the new baby will just be the one left behind.<br />
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Dalton is just so responsible and helpful at this age. Royce was fussing because he didn't want to get into his car seat and doing that thing that apparently is an instinct all toddlers have where they arch their back and make it physically impossible to buckle them in to a car seat. How are they born knowing that you go limp when your mother tries to pick you up to stop you from doing something in the house, but you arch your back and go completely wild to avoid the car seat? Anyway, Dalton cheerfully announced "Don't worry! I can help with that! I'll get him a toy!", went and retrieved a toy, and, lo and behold, Royce stopped crying and sat right down and let me strap him in with no more issues. I honestly don't even know how I was able to parent before I had this 3 year old baby whisperer in my life.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking his brother to the dentist. All the heart eyes. </td></tr>
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Their favorite game is just chasing each other around the house, alternating between different vehicles (because we have 5000 vehicles), and Dalton loves to block Royce. This really comes in handy when they play outside and run up and down the sidewalk. Royce is getting much better at stopping when he gets to the street and knowing he needs to hold hands, but he's definitely not 100% trustworthy or even close yet. I can count on Dalton to run out and stop him and turn him around when he's two houses down beelining towards the street. Of course, I thought my pregnant running days were over but it's amazing how fast I can sprint when my 3 year old nanny is distracted and my 1 year old is bolting towards the road.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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The baby seems fine. Lots of kicking, which is my favorite. I'm currently 32 weeks, so it is finally starting to feel like an end is in sight.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awkward mirror selfie</td></tr>
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Something pretty exciting and a big change for me - I won't be returning to work next school year. I'm really lucky that my school district offers teachers a two year leave of absence (unpaid of course) for "Child Rearing Leave". I was just approved for this leave, so I'll be returning in the 20-21 school year when the baby is two! Once we were positive we eventually wanted three children, this was our long term plan, but it seemed too good to be true. The leave of absence is a pretty sweet deal, because I'll return at the step that I left off at, with all my benefits, sick days, pay level and years of service intact. Of course, my position at my school has to be relinquished, which I'm pretty sad about since I am really happy here. But I'm guaranteed a comparable job when I return. You actually can even keep your benefits ON your leave at a higher price, but we just switched to Eric's health care.<br />
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Like with any big change, I have some mixed feelings. This will be all new to me. While there are many (MANY) days I feel like a total failure as a working mom, at least I know it's doable for me. The boys will all be home with me (when proofreading, I realized this statement might be inaccurate if the baby is a girl! I'm just so used to saying it, maybe it means it's a boy!), although we plan to enroll Dalton in preschool two mornings a week, since he will be almost 4 at the start of the upcoming school year. I'm scared of making them dumber, since they learn so much at daycare. Yes, I'm a teacher, but working on analyzing novels with pre-teens really doesn't translate well to helping very small children learn basic preschool skills. There's a reason early childhood is a whole separate degree! But thankfully we live in the age of the internet and there are tons of good ideas for ways to work with your children at home. I feel guilty that I'll have so much more time with the baby that I didn't have with the boys. I feel guilty that the boys won't get the stimulation and attention they are used to at daycare and will have to wait for my attention while I'm caring for the baby. I feel guilty for taking them out of daycare, since they've been with the in home sitter we use since they were each 3 months old and they love her, and right now there is only one other full time child, so we are a big part of her income. But if the past 3.5 years have taught me anything, there's always something to feel guilty about as a mother.<br />
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But it's not all guilty and anxiety, far from! I cannot wait to get to see my little guys all day every day. I spend the whole work day missing them and looking forward to picking them up. We have memberships to the zoo and a children's museum, and the thought of just getting to hang out with my boys there on a random Wednesday morning is heaven.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They hate it there. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side eye on point.</td></tr>
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I love our lazy weekend mornings when we sleep in and cuddle on the couch and watch shows. Our weekday mornings are complete chaos now trying to get out the door by 7 and I am not going to miss that. Nor am I going to miss pumping in a freezing cold closet, the panic of what to do when a kid wakes up with a fever, or trying to function at work with a 12 week old newborn who eats all night and still, in my opinion, needs his mom all day. Or maybe it's just that I need him all day. All I know is, after 9 months of sharing my body, and 12 weeks of almost constant togetherness, having to drop my boys off for 40-50 hours a week felt wrong in every way. I felt physically ill at work without my tiny baby. I thought it would be easier the second time, but it wasn't.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking forward to lots of this.</td></tr>
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I'm so, so thankful not to have to do that again. I'm sure leaving him or her at age 2 will have its own issues but I'm pretty confident it's the lesser of two evils.<br />
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It will be a big change, but overall there's no real damage to my career (as far as I can tell), and I get what I've been desperate for since I first became a mom - more time with my kids! Hopefully I can somehow continue to help them grow and learn and develop, although to be honest, my main goal is just keeping everyone alive, with maintaining my own sanity as a "reach" goal. The timing actually worked out better than I could have hoped for; when my two years is up, Dalton will begin kindergarten (the cutoff in our state is September first, and his birthday is the 23rd, so he will be nearly 6 when he starts). So we will never have to have 3 in full time daycare! Someday, they will all be in school and we will MAKE. IT. RAIN.<br />
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My last random exciting (for me) update is my doctor told me if everything is looking good after my c-section I can do skin to skin in the operating room! One of the reasons I wanted to have a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) is because it kind of sucks you have to wait so long to hold your baby after a c-section. So I'm excited to at least have the possibility of that whole skin to skin golden hour bonding thing. I really want the experience of getting the baby on my chest right away, before it's cleaned up and swaddled. But we will see, as I've learned, anything can happen at delivery! I didn't have it with Dalton and Royce and I feel we "bonded" just fine without it.<br />
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6 weeks, 4 days or less until this baby is out! Any SAHM tips for me?Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-36816580391243425272018-03-04T16:01:00.000-05:002018-03-04T16:01:14.099-05:003 months to go!I always want to start with some sort of disclaimer/explanation about how it's been so long since I posted but I assume everyone else is busy like me and hasn't exactly been waiting on tenterhooks for a post.<br />
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I'm almost in the third trimester. WHAT. I am going to start it at 27 weeks (some say 28) which is a few days away! That's insane. The baby is finally kicking up a storm, at least that I can feel. I have an anterior placenta for the first time, which means the placenta is basically in front of the baby cushioning the movement so it's harder for the mom to feel. It's pretty common but everyone claims you feel the baby earlier with each pregnancy which has not been true for me and made me nervous. But I'm now at the sweet spot. I'm not big enough yet to be super uncomfortable but big enough to have a cute bump. I'm out of the gross constant sickness and exhaustion of the first trimester. And I can finally enjoy feeling the baby moving all around in there, which I'm trying to savor knowing how much I will miss it when it's gone.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Asbytz8Igh0/Wpxco2LZD1I/AAAAAAABAS4/0b77o-vlK6c-GA_s07yZXE5rZ7hsMU4TgCLcBGAs/s1600/bump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Asbytz8Igh0/Wpxco2LZD1I/AAAAAAABAS4/0b77o-vlK6c-GA_s07yZXE5rZ7hsMU4TgCLcBGAs/s640/bump.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think this is from 24 weeks! Remember when I was pregnant with Dalton and took weekly pics with an actual camera? Lol.</td></tr>
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The kids still DGAF about the baby. Dalton will occasionally ask to look it on my app but I think that's just an excuse to get my phone. They already have each other and are just not into babies at all. My mom visited recently and after Royce went to bed she asked Dalton "where's the baby?", expecting some sort of cute answer like "in my mommy's tummy!". He just gave her a look and replied "he's a tobbler, and he's sleeping". We just had a trial run switching to zone defense watching Dalton's BFF for the day, and the verdict is that if the baby comes out 3 years old, potty trained, and extremely well behaved, having 3 kids will be doable.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Story of Royce's life - me too!</td></tr>
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I'm starting to get pretty nervous about c-section recovery. We are a family that's big into rough housing. The other day Royce was playing his favorite game which is getting me to tackle him to the ground and then Dalton jumped on top of my back as one does and Eric came in and I was like I'm going to hemorrhage and end up in the ER when they are playing with me like this after surgery. Dalton is old enough to understand not to but he's also 3 and 3 year olds are not known for their impulse control or ability to change life long habits. Royce just does whatever Dalton does in a constant "monkey see monkey do" loop although at least he's smaller.<br />
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My current survival plan is just to hide in our bedroom for the first two weeks with the baby and watch Netflix topless. I'm even bringing my classroom fridge home to put upstairs filled with cold brew coffee and snacks, so, I'm pretty serious about this. I thought it sounded awesome but then I got the flu and had to do a trial run where I hid in the bedroom for a week (success - no one else got it! Now watch them get it from licking the cart at Target or whatever.) and by the end I was SO sad and missed the boys so much. I am sure it will be different with a baby and obviously they can come up and cuddle with me but still. Luckily it will be June so they will probably be so excited to play outside they won't even notice me or the new baby. Side note, yes, I did get the flu shot.<br />
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I love how people are STILL horrified we aren't finding out the sex "but how will you prepare??". Lol by dusting off the car seat and putting new batteries in the bouncer. There's not a lot to do to prepare for a third baby when you have a not even two year old in your household already. I washed a couple of our newborn sleepers and brought them upstairs. I grabbed two packs of newborn diapers when we had coupons and got 3 more cloth diapers to add to our stash since we will have two in diapers again. I plan to use disposable for the first month or so when the baby is tiny and pooping a ton and I don't have it in me to move much less wash extra diapers. The one thing I got on Black Friday was reusable nipple pads (Bamboobies, highly recommend, I had some from when Royce was tiny but wanted enough to go longer in between washes). I scheduled a car seat check and signed Dalton up for a big brother class. Obviously he's already the world's greatest big brother but he has no memory of Royce as a baby so I'm hoping it will help him adjust to that, and it was only $10. Royce is the one who probably needs it, or at least that's what my mom guilt over turning my baby into a middle child says, but he's too young so Dalton will have to do some peer education.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O6C8zUWP-fA/WpxcuEfH0ZI/AAAAAAABAS8/F04SZ2E3p8whUXtZocVAoC0g_M_J_FgegCLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Bteaching.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="637" data-original-width="478" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O6C8zUWP-fA/WpxcuEfH0ZI/AAAAAAABAS8/F04SZ2E3p8whUXtZocVAoC0g_M_J_FgegCLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Bteaching.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basically a professor.</td></tr>
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I have about 50 contingency plans in my mind for various times/days/situations of going in to labor. Yes, I have a scheduled c-section, so my doctor has a spot for me on her calendar for the day we picked, but so far none of my babies had much interest in how I wanted to birth them. I'm under no illusions that this one will be any different. I've been about 99.5% positive that the baby will come before the scheduled date (June 4) since we picked it at my first OB appointment. I have a feeling it's a girl, but not nearly as strong a feeling as I do about it coming early. But I've had 2 vivid delivery dreams where it's a girl and one vivid dream of nursing a newborn baby girl. No boy dreams. I was completely sure Dalton was a boy from 8 weeks on and had two vivid boy dreams with him. For Royce, I was completely clueless even when my doctor asked me what I predicted right before they wheeled me in to the OR. Eric says girl....just like he has with every pregnancy, so based on his track record I think we can ignore him.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eric with his "girls".</td></tr>
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However, if it is a boy, not only will he have a wardrobe, he will be named! A huge advantage in starting out life. We've had a boy name since the early days when I first found out I was pregnant. Girl...not so much. It seems we just naturally see eye to eye on boy names and picking them has come really easily to us. Girl names we have quite differing opinions on. I think I just have to accept that I'm not going to love a girl name that we agree on the way I love my boys names. I absolutely LOVE Dalton and Royce's names, as well as the new baby boy name, and I never had even a moment of hesitation on them. In fact, I first heard the name Dalton when I was 19 and in college and said right away "that's my future son's name" (my college roomie can verify). I never wavered and luckily for me Eric was into it. If he hadn't been, it would have been a tough call over going with a new name or a new baby daddy. So it's been a tough pill to swallow that whatever girl name we end up with I might just be like 75% on. I was getting stressed out about it a few weeks ago but I've completely switched to "oh well 50% chance it won't be an issue" and my doctor told me I just have to have a name by the time we leave the hospital so that gives us four days to decide if need be. I've asked Dalton for help so many times but he is useless and just says he doesn't know. I don't actually think he knows any girls names.<br />
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In and Out randomness because at this rate the baby could be here before I post again so we need list format.<br />
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IN:<br />
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<b>Naps</b><br />
I take one every single day I'm not at work. Mainly weekends obviously, but for example school unexpectedly closed and my very first thought was I CAN NAP TODAY. I had just woken up but I was already excited. You may be think "That doesn't sound very productive. She can't possibly be getting much done around the house with a 1 year old and 3 year old while they are up." Correct. I do not.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XZrdRz__bdI/WpxcuFiPhyI/AAAAAAABATA/VdhF7D_luK8CjwSeikrlO9gaZIZr6RW4ACLcBGAs/s1600/D%2Bsleeping.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="331" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XZrdRz__bdI/WpxcuFiPhyI/AAAAAAABATA/VdhF7D_luK8CjwSeikrlO9gaZIZr6RW4ACLcBGAs/s640/D%2Bsleeping.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Way cuter than how I look sleeping and no clue what's going on with his hair there.</td></tr>
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<b>Pop socket</b><br />
If you don't spend your days with pre-teens, you may not know what these are so allow me to demonstrate with a picture. It makes your phone much more comfortable to hold and doubles as a toddler toy.<br />
<img alt="Image result for pop socket" src="http://www.shopsouthernology.com/assets/images/popsocket-phone.jpg" /><br />
<b>Les Mis</b><br />
I haven't been that in to music since Christmas ended and I'm more of a podcast/audiobook type anyway. But you can only listen to the Paw Patrol soundtrack in your head so many times so I've been obsessed with the Les Mis soundtrack. Random but amazing.<br />
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<b>Books</b><br />
I read 3 just during the week I was down for the count with the flu, particularly during the times I was too stuffed up/coughing too much to sleep. The library/kindle app is life. Recent favorite: The Alice Network. 10/10 would recommend.<br />
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<b>Girls weekends</b><br />
I just had not one, but two girl's weekends in a row. It wasn't planned that way, but it was too separate friend groups and just worked out that way. President's Day weekend we had a beach getaway, because February is prime beach time, clearly. My friend Liz's parents have a beach house in this adorable little oceanside town about two hours away, so four of us spent a night there. We all have 3 year olds, so essentially it was just an excuse to have uninterrupted conversation, meals we didn't have to share, and a full night of sleep. Side note, why don't they tell you in the baby prep classes that 3 year olds are almost as bad as newborns? I actually have quite a few things I believe should be added to the curriculum.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ul5V5RQWVWY/WpxcuSR-VGI/AAAAAAABATI/BKLnRhrAj3cLgcMAWxeiaINnGRJXisolQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ul5V5RQWVWY/WpxcuSR-VGI/AAAAAAABATI/BKLnRhrAj3cLgcMAWxeiaINnGRJXisolQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6611.JPG" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
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The following weekend, my friend Nicole visited from NC. We moved to Baltimore together from upstate NY 13, closer to 14 years ago. WOW. I just had to actually do the math on that. Apparently the theme to this post is that I'm old (turning 35 ten days after my due date!). She stayed with us Friday night and then we hung out with our other two former roomies all day on Saturday, celebrating Carolyn's new baby girl and Casi's recent engagement! Naturally, just like the previous weekend, it was a lot of wild partying with one prego and one mom of a newborn. The four of us only get to hang out a couple times a year and there's just nothing like hanging with lifelong friends (Carolyn and Nicole and I have been friends since college, in my opinion, and Casi and I have been BFF since sixth grade!).<br />
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We forgot to take a group pic so here's a picture of our feet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EngzKopQ7DI/WpxYMcW4RbI/AAAAAAABARs/IAT21gesutg7CHPoxce_ziGqZYTglEhEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EngzKopQ7DI/WpxYMcW4RbI/AAAAAAABARs/IAT21gesutg7CHPoxce_ziGqZYTglEhEgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_6666.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84cwXwN-oV4/WpxYMq1k0jI/AAAAAAABARw/DjY1kXwR_rsY1hf20iGAFMdMMmLiDWqTACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="833" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84cwXwN-oV4/WpxYMq1k0jI/AAAAAAABARw/DjY1kXwR_rsY1hf20iGAFMdMMmLiDWqTACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6667.JPG" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big weekend accomplishment - baby's first bar!</td></tr>
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OUT:<br />
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<b>Exercise</b><br />
<br />
I've all but stopped doing it. No real reason other than I'm tired. I was getting in to a decent routine, then I had the flu, and I'm just not great at starting up again. I already get up at 5/5:30 for work, so getting up even earlier than that is not happening. Trust me, I set my alarm quite a few times for failed attempts. I have a few coworkers who do workouts with me after school so I've done a couple Body Combats recently with them. Basically the only possibly chance is with someone else and even then it's unlikely. Case in point: ditched my friend for Body Pump just the other day because I was in bed eating pretzels and just...no. I'll get into shape once the baby is here, or just stay fat.<br />
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<b>Shopping with Toddlers</b><br />
<br />
I do actually have a lot fun taking them to Wegmans because we get a car cart and always have a little lunch date after we get our groceries. But I can be hard to read the fine print so I accidentally got these prenatals that were giant horse pills and the serving size is FOUR. PER. DAY. On the average day I gagged and spit out all the water everywhere with at least one pill, usually at work while I had a class. I finally finished the jar and can return to normal vitamins and I'm never buying those when I have even one child with me again.<br />
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<b>Winter</b><br />
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Over it. I just want to be able to play outside in shorts and sandals. I'm sick of being cooped up inside or wearing all the layers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cPzuVDnuNsk/Wpxc2yQzRuI/AAAAAAABATQ/Ow1pRHz_j6Mhbna6jNsfhvycD4p4B9EbQCLcBGAs/s1600/winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cPzuVDnuNsk/Wpxc2yQzRuI/AAAAAAABATQ/Ow1pRHz_j6Mhbna6jNsfhvycD4p4B9EbQCLcBGAs/s640/winter.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Royce feels the same.</td></tr>
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<ul>
</ul>
This is the end of the list.<br />
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So that's that. My scheduled c section is 3 months from today! I can't believe it. Before that, in May, Royce will be turning two. I still truly believe he's my little baby so turning two is such a shocker. One is a big one, of course, but they are still babies at one. Two is firmly in toddler/little boy territory.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_1c48Y2EBxU/WpxYNC9bSFI/AAAAAAABAR8/e-jzp9_eT3krIq-6P9XjzYEN_0up82mmQCLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2Bteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_1c48Y2EBxU/WpxYNC9bSFI/AAAAAAABAR8/e-jzp9_eT3krIq-6P9XjzYEN_0up82mmQCLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2Bteen.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like, when did he become a teenager?</td></tr>
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-69511511208545822172018-01-12T13:22:00.000-05:002018-01-12T13:22:07.081-05:00Super late Christmas post and parenting fails<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Christmas 2017 felt like I finally got the Christmas I'd been dreaming of since becoming a parent. We decided that once we had kids, we would start doing Christmas Eve/morning in our own home. I realized the long term advantages of that, but our inaugural parent Christmas was with a barely 3 month old in a large, yet kind of crappy apartment. </div>
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While it was fun to take cute pictures, 3 month olds don't really recognize holidays and continue with their typical lifestyle of eat/poop/sleep. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iJUR74KP3J8/WkZF_VYxA9I/AAAAAAAA_SU/sWCQdRAvqKgJ2Jytn05k5PrcJJm2EADAQCLcBGAs/s1600/Baby%2BDalton.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iJUR74KP3J8/WkZF_VYxA9I/AAAAAAAA_SU/sWCQdRAvqKgJ2Jytn05k5PrcJJm2EADAQCLcBGAs/s640/Baby%2BDalton.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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They don't really do anything fun like open gifts or put cookies out for Santa, so things really didn't feel very Christmasy to me. </div>
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It took longer than expected to turn things around, because it turns out 1 and 2 year olds don't really GAF about holidays either, or at least in our case. </div>
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So this was FINALLY the year of Christmas excitement! Dalton "got" the idea of Santa, loved doing all the holiday activities like putting up the tree, a special "milk and cookies" event at a local children's museum, leaving cookies out for Santa, etc. </div>
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We kicked off the glorious break from work hosting our mom group Secret Santa exchange. The usual chaos ensued along with the usual hilarity of trying to get all 7 children looking at the camera for a picture. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Of1QdCeECQ4/WkZGAECP8DI/AAAAAAAA_Ss/WlNIlIKlsEwOfmvdEAelzqUwT2nzhnm8gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="762" data-original-width="734" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Of1QdCeECQ4/WkZGAECP8DI/AAAAAAAA_Ss/WlNIlIKlsEwOfmvdEAelzqUwT2nzhnm8gCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6088.jpg" width="616" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Literally no one smiling.</td></tr>
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Christmas Eve morning, Dalton helped me make, shape, and decorate sugar cookies for Santa. He was so excited and so skilled at carefully rolling out the dough each time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6x9kIknlVCU/WkZGBXBFnXI/AAAAAAAA_S0/uPmaEHg0YiMpgx0LyxC5Rqo8Ex41EUASACLcBGAs/s1600/Making%2Bcookies%2Bmom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6x9kIknlVCU/WkZGBXBFnXI/AAAAAAAA_S0/uPmaEHg0YiMpgx0LyxC5Rqo8Ex41EUASACLcBGAs/s640/Making%2Bcookies%2Bmom.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Royce joined in occasionally. </td></tr>
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Major Christmas cookie fail. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YqXEV85ndQo/WkZGFsY6nAI/AAAAAAAA_Tg/qTTCR2Dk70IxnLO38nzR1MszFGDm_5bQACLcBGAs/s1600/cookies%2Bbefore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YqXEV85ndQo/WkZGFsY6nAI/AAAAAAAA_Tg/qTTCR2Dk70IxnLO38nzR1MszFGDm_5bQACLcBGAs/s640/cookies%2Bbefore.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mHoFaxDYQYM/WkZGFLuvIFI/AAAAAAAA_Tc/V6JRrpvv_3sZIYFpyCc64jg9LyBRIBmbgCLcBGAs/s1600/cookies%2Bafter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mHoFaxDYQYM/WkZGFLuvIFI/AAAAAAAA_Tc/V6JRrpvv_3sZIYFpyCc64jg9LyBRIBmbgCLcBGAs/s640/cookies%2Bafter.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
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But when a 1 and 3 year old are doing the decorating, appearance isn't really all that important. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPaeex1Cw0U/WkZGEkP5AoI/AAAAAAAA_TY/3mPjN0MBylQsMIxcP0Up0-X-hf6dMabMwCLcBGAs/s1600/cookie%2Bfrosting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPaeex1Cw0U/WkZGEkP5AoI/AAAAAAAA_TY/3mPjN0MBylQsMIxcP0Up0-X-hf6dMabMwCLcBGAs/s640/cookie%2Bfrosting.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a good thing I don't worry about things like "messes".</td></tr>
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We did our usual appetizers for Christmas Eve dinner while watching Elf. Everyone opened a gift as well as Christmas pajamas. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xN8sJ8Mkpp8/WkZGAthi0kI/AAAAAAAA_So/kp-BejRWj1QCA4Cm4_UuCpH14LV0EFZsQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xN8sJ8Mkpp8/WkZGAthi0kI/AAAAAAAA_So/kp-BejRWj1QCA4Cm4_UuCpH14LV0EFZsQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6113.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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Christmas morning was really fun. Dalton mainly seemed confused at first that Santa had come and brought him a tool bench. Then, in typical 3 year old fashion, he wanted to just play with each gift instead of continue to open them. But we had nowhere to be, so, why not?</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CHIzxZOS0TA/WkZGEpUupOI/AAAAAAAA_TU/xg82Z_uTTUkBfD9wv1MtSh8PEEqJZKCmwCLcBGAs/s1600/Workman%2BDalton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CHIzxZOS0TA/WkZGEpUupOI/AAAAAAAA_TU/xg82Z_uTTUkBfD9wv1MtSh8PEEqJZKCmwCLcBGAs/s640/Workman%2BDalton.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ltI3tsJU9zk/WkZF_s4lu2I/AAAAAAAA_Sc/aMhEI1QRTGAZNr2XAkXM-jw6MwJ3zJM1wCLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Bbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ltI3tsJU9zk/WkZF_s4lu2I/AAAAAAAA_Sc/aMhEI1QRTGAZNr2XAkXM-jw6MwJ3zJM1wCLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Bbook.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kvSDJ1py0R4/WkZF_14ezNI/AAAAAAAA_Sg/MPNe4kkJrRg8ogYNdaRSz8GZ0Vg-6RWkgCLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Bstocking%2Bstuffer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kvSDJ1py0R4/WkZF_14ezNI/AAAAAAAA_Sg/MPNe4kkJrRg8ogYNdaRSz8GZ0Vg-6RWkgCLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Bstocking%2Bstuffer.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was all excited to turn his "medicines" into cars. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vCYw_dhoGLg/WkZGAG2LTwI/AAAAAAAA_Sk/aPVX0JIVRwozdIC_ISymTaAAAQKuXWWQwCLcBGAs/s1600/Dalton%2Bstocking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vCYw_dhoGLg/WkZGAG2LTwI/AAAAAAAA_Sk/aPVX0JIVRwozdIC_ISymTaAAAQKuXWWQwCLcBGAs/s640/Dalton%2Bstocking.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I didn't think Royce would get the hang of things based on Dalton's one year old Christmas, but he does what his brother does!</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--RjcRUKCZfQ/WkZGDdw6SMI/AAAAAAAA_TI/-vvE5YLDM9s6m-9HJfSVaKRfYeRK70fxACLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2Bmusic%2Btoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--RjcRUKCZfQ/WkZGDdw6SMI/AAAAAAAA_TI/-vvE5YLDM9s6m-9HJfSVaKRfYeRK70fxACLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2Bmusic%2Btoy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n3aay9cAPz8/WkZGB9JxRqI/AAAAAAAA_S8/O9kBm9YMJusuxq1AD08LNzwSPJFebGtXACLcBGAs/s1600/Reading%2Bbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n3aay9cAPz8/WkZGB9JxRqI/AAAAAAAA_S8/O9kBm9YMJusuxq1AD08LNzwSPJFebGtXACLcBGAs/s640/Reading%2Bbook.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f6uSSj5W4IQ/WkZGCe1iHMI/AAAAAAAA_TA/nbUW_DQOZGshLNyAbqGypgI6Vfzjx0OjwCLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2Bbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f6uSSj5W4IQ/WkZGCe1iHMI/AAAAAAAA_TA/nbUW_DQOZGshLNyAbqGypgI6Vfzjx0OjwCLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2Bbook.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical teacher parents - lots of books!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Fpt-BmEGczA/WkZGCxy-BHI/AAAAAAAA_TE/Q52-uydF0WYXwIldx8e85_BrzQcoXS8MQCLcBGAs/s1600/Royce%2Bdrawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="441" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Fpt-BmEGczA/WkZGCxy-BHI/AAAAAAAA_TE/Q52-uydF0WYXwIldx8e85_BrzQcoXS8MQCLcBGAs/s640/Royce%2Bdrawing.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This has been making diaper changes so much easier. </td></tr>
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We had this great plan to get Royce to give up the pacifier, with plenty of time to spare before the new baby arrives. We started right away, on Christmas.<br />
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Yeah....good thing it took me 3 more weeks to post this. We gave in and he got it back last night. The first week was fine, but then when he returned to daycare, sleep became a nightmare. He used to go through his bedtime routine, happy as a clam, give him a kiss goodnight and didn't see him again until the morning. Suddenly, as soon as we finished reading his book it would be kicking, flailing, running away, throwing himself to the floor, and hysterical screaming as soon as he was in the crib. It worked for awhile to lay down with him, but then that stopped working. Plus, he was up in the middle of the night doing the same stuff (thank god Eric dealt with that). Eventually we got to the point where laying with him didn't work, cry it out didn't work, he just wasn't sleeping. Eric said he won, and was getting the pacifier back. I honestly felt totally dumb because that hadn't even occurred to me as a solution. </div>
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He started tensing up and pawing at the door after his book last night. As soon as I gave him the pacifier, his body totally relaxed and he turned off the light like the good old days. Totally different child. So whatever, he can have the pacifier until middle school. How much can braces really cost anyway? It's not the first or last time I'll be bested by a one year old. </div>
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I comforted myself with the reminder that when Dalton was a baby, my friend also had a baby, one week younger. The two of us decided to have our babies share a dorm room and secretly pay someone to swaddle them every night because we were positive they would never sleep without one. Point being, both our kids now sleep without the swaddle, so even if it seems like kids will never get to a certain point, they will. Someday.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He wins.</td></tr>
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In other news, I had stomach flu this week and having that while pregnant is about as fun as it sounds. 0/10, would not recommend. Royce threw up on the way home from daycare Friday. All over his car seat. In sub zero temperatures. That was the beginning of the end. Then he continued life in his happy go lucky not gonna sleep fashion, not bothered at all. He was kind enough to give it to me on Sunday. It had me contemplating death. I'll never understand how illness can barely slow down a kid but completely take down an adult. <div>
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By Tuesday, I was able to keep liquids down somewhat but still pretty dehydrated. My OB said I might have to go to the ER for fluids (not as dramatic as it seems, it's pretty easy to get to that point while pregnant). I was completely panicking because it was around 1pm, and I had to pick the kids up by 5:30pm and Eric was coaching a basketball game. In my luckily (surprisingly, if you know my kids) limited ER experience, I would be there for quite a long time so....that kind of screwed us. A non local friend asked if there was anyone else who could pick them up and I was like....uhhhhh.....not really. Willing? Yes. But most of my friends have their own child and most cars don't fit 3 car seats, not to mention the confusing of getting and moving car seats in, again, sub zero icy temps....so...yeah. I was like oh maybe this is why people don't live in different states from their family. If it wasn't for the whole pesky needing to be employed thing, I definitely wouldn't.</div>
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Anyway, I was able to hydrate in my preferred fashion, in bed, with Netflix and not at the ER, and got the kids, and it was all fine. Now I'm able to be back at work and provide the absolute lowest quality minimal parenting in the evenings (Eric had games all week) and sort of be a human. I'm mainly annoyed because I've still been feeling nauseous and gross and on a bread and cracker and juice only diet and don't want to feed my kids because food disgusts me so much. AKA - repeating the morning sickness from the ENTIRE first + trimester that I had FINALLY started to move past. Sometimes I wonder if I'm more excited to meet the baby or just be able to eat normally again. </div>
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Pregnancy wise, I'll be 19 weeks tomorrow! Almost halfway! It still feels like this pregnancy is taking forever and I have a constant countdown in my head of time left (20 weeks and 3 days). I'm really, really impatient to get it over with and meet the baby. I think I've mentioned that. I'm hoping once I start feeling movement and maybe even return to eating more than just bagels and toast I'll enjoy the pregnant part a little more. It's not that I don't like it...it's just that I am seeing it as a means to an end, and I really, really, want to get to the end. Remind me of that when things are completely chaotic and insane and I'm barely surviving on enough coffee to take down a small horse. But I still can't wait.<br /><br />
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336273598199876862.post-25410310497192192322017-12-09T07:57:00.003-05:002017-12-09T07:57:28.278-05:00Baby/kid talk, Christmas stuffI'm in the second trimester of my pregnancy! 14 weeks!<br />
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Yeah, I got the memo you aren't supposed to have tons of apps and know the exact number of days pregnant you are with the third pregnancy. But I don't subscribe to that. Being pregnant is still super exciting and I like to obsess over it! I mean, it's a big deal! I'm growing a human. I don't think I could ever get over that no matter how many times I do it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictures of fetuses are boring, so.</td></tr>
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Being out of the first trimester has never been such a huge relief. As I said in my previous pregnancy post, I struggled the most I ever have with anxiety about losing the baby. And I still get scared - does anyone ever relax until the baby is in their arms? But at this point the odds are that the baby will be in my arms this summer!<br />
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The morning sickness is so much better. I'll occasionally feel nauseous or have nights like Monday when the only thing I could stomach for dinner was white rice, but they are becoming fewer and further between. A lot of days I feel almost normal and it's amazing. My diet has been worse than most college freshmen. After the slurpee period, I went through a period where I couldn't stop eating Taco Bell bean burritos. Yep, weirdly specific. I hadn't had Taco Bell in ten years prior to this pregnancy and now I don't even want to think about it. But for awhile there, I was going multiple times a week. There was a lot of chips, pizza, crackers, and juice too. You know how some people are all like "oh all I craved was fruit!". MUST BE NICE FOR YOU. I craved everything that could make me the fattest ever. Except sweets. My consumption of dessert is WAY down. Like I've eaten white rice with soy sauce FOR DESSERT. I don't even know me.<br />
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Now I can frequently be seen eating pickles in my classroom while teaching. Pregnancy cravings are so weird and I never had any like this (cue everyone saying ooooooh it must be a girl because symptoms totally predict sex). I had foods that sounds good and I wanted to eat them, like in normal life. But this is different. The audiobook I was listening to mentioned Minestrone soup and I drove straight to the grocery store and bought some and my mouth was watering the whole way home and I couldn't think about anything else until I had that soup. It's just so random and so specific and once I think about that food I can't think about anything else until I have it (most inconvenient at work). I drive around with pickles in the passenger seat. Not even joking.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random pic to break up text.</td></tr>
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Aside from the fetus, my outside children continue to grow and develop as well. Royce continues to shock me as he gradually becomes less and less of a confused destructive caveman and more and more into a real actual human being. Just a few months ago, like September/October, we had an important milestone. I introduced him to the wonder of Chick Fil A sauce. I wish I had a picture because he essentially bathed his entire upper half in it. He quickly abandoned his dinner to just use his hand to shovel it into his mouth, as we all would like to do, but is only socially acceptable for a one year old (and barely at that). He was covered with it.<br />
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Last night, he was neatly dipping his nuggets into the sauce LIKE A REGULAR PERSON WOULD DO. He barely even made a mess. Sure, he also dipped his apples into it but there's no accounting for taste. Also sure, maybe this indicates an over-reliance on fast food for our family, but I've already discussed this in previous posts and anyway, Chick Fil A is not on the same level as other fast foods.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just eating with no high chair or anything, like a regular person.</td></tr>
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Another pretty cool thing with Royce is he understands so much now. He's not talking, so it's easy to overlook this, but I'm noticing more and more how much he's responding to whatever I'm saying. I can actually calm him with my words now! The vast majority of the time, of course that doesn't work because he's a toddler, but it's starting to happen. For example, if I'm buckling him into his car seat and he's fussing for a toy he sees, he will often actually stop fussing and wait if I tell him I'll give him the toy after I buckle him in. That's amazing. He's turned from a helpless newborn that has no choice but to cry for every need to an real human being who can dip Chick Fil A nuggets properly and listen and react to what people are saying. Yes, every single human being on earth also has made this transformation in their lives, but much like pregnancy, it's still incredible when it's your child and your experience (see above).<br />
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Royce is truly just fearless too. Another Chick Fil A milestone, he was climbing to the top of the play place and going down the big, fast slide. At 19 months. Dalton didn't do that until he was 3, and he's known for being a daredevil climber.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No fear</td></tr>
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Dalton just continues to amaze me with his sweet and caring nature. It's weird too, because he's very much like me in many ways but I'm not exactly known for being a touchy feely warm and loving type. Yesterday, I won't mention where we were but see above, a bunch of parents/kids were helpfully saying things like "watch out for the baby!", meaning Royce, in the playplace. Dalton went up to him, put his hand on his shoulder, and and quietly said "you're a big boy". I mean, melt my heart. Another time I took Royce out briefly because he was fussing over something and Dalton came running out to me. "Royce is ok, right?". He's just such a good big brother and so, so funny.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are all precious when they sleep.</td></tr>
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They both "know" about the baby but I put that in quotes because who really knows how much Royce understands, and Dalton is really a live in the moment kind of guy so at this point even Christmas is kind of far away for him to be getting worked up about. Neither of them are much interested in babies or baby dolls or anything. I've tried to show Dalton the 3D image of the baby on my app but he just asks to see the picture of the bunk beds I told him he and Royce would be sharing when the baby arrives. For him, that's by far more exciting (and who can blame a three year old for that thinking, really). I'm not concerned because Dalton never showed any interest in babies last time but clearly it worked out fine.<br />
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Back to the baby, one reason I really like my doctor is she's super blunt and just came out and said what everyone is likely thinking. She walked into my first appointment and the first words out of her mouth were "so, was this planned?". I'd definitely been clear with her when we discussed birth control options last winter that another baby was hopefully in the cards for us, but, I'm not offended. I know two kids in less than two years puts me in the "woah, you'll have your hands full!", minorly crazy camp. 3 kids in 4 years puts me in the much smaller "this bitch has seriously lost her damn mind" group.<br />
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I probably will have my moments where I am losing my mind, but, I love having my boys close together and we really didn't want a big gap before another baby. This is a decision where I can totally understand the other side of waiting much longer in between children. Unlike, for example, the other side of the epidural decision. No offense to anyone, but I just DON'T get why anyone would just want all that pain. But anyway, Dalton is now at the age where it's much more common to add another child to your family, and, I get it. He's very independent, out of diapers, out of the crib, can do a lot of things for himself, and he's out of the "I don't know what this thing is so let me lick it/bite it/throw it and figure it out" phase. I can get him out of the van and tell him to walk to the sidewalk and wait while I get Royce out and be 99% confident he will not run into traffic because he understands it's dangerous. (I feel 100% but nothing in parenting is ever 100%.) I can definitely see how adding a newborn with just one child at this age would be desirable, it's just not for us. I much prefer to just keep rolling with the diapers/night wakeups/constant, CONSTANT supervision. It's insanity and chaos and constant crumbs and mess and crying, but honestly I think the two of us handle the chaos pretty well and it doesn't bother me (much).<br />
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I don't remember ever being this eager to just HAVE THE BABY. I was so nervous about the changes the last two times that it was maybe equal parts excitement and nervousness. Now, sure, I'm nervous about how I will handle 3 kids but I have this overwhelming impatience that I don't remember having for anything since I was a little kid where I just cannot wait to hold this baby. I think I would truly just go ahead and fast forward to June if I could, I just want to meet this little person so bad.<br />
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I had some sort of foolish thoughts that since I can just have a scheduled c section with this one, I wouldn't need to have 400 contingency plans for going in to labor. Um, wrong. When I met with my doctor, I realized all a scheduled c-section is a spot blocked out on my doctor's calendar. If there's one thing I've learned about babies, it's that they DGAF about how you want to birth them. The earliest they will schedule a c-section is 39 weeks 2 days, which is tentatively the plan. But Royce came at exactly 39 weeks so....I kind of feel like a third time laboring followed by a c-section is in my future. Womp womp. I'm over these contractions, but, I know carrying a baby to term is a blessing and I need to focus on hoping I'm lucky enough to do so even if it means more stupid contractions for me. If I do go early, it does meet my earlier desire of meeting the baby earlier! So, every friend I have within 30 miles of my house, you are officially on call in late May/June.<br />
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We've also done some adorably fun Christmas stuff lately.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Train garden</td></tr>
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Breakfast with Santa where they actually got near Santa! Not that we got a decent pic, but still.<br />
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Dalton showing off his breakfast with Santa craft. He was so proud!<br />
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That's my latest stream of consciousness. I have to get everything on my mind out because who knows when I'll get around to blogging next. </div>
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02517428815573698474noreply@blogger.com5