Baby Sofia

Z, enjoying the morning, the day of Phoenix and Sofia's birth.

So, turns out P got a birthday buddy after all.  And, honestly, after all of the hotheaded commentary on the subject, he barely winced. This could be because he has the most amazing Aunt and Uncle on the planet...

Seriously, though they had just given birth to their firstborn, they went waaaay out of their way to make the weekend special for Phoenix.  Absolutely broke my heart to see how much he is loved by such truly unbelievable people.  

For example, after a long labor and sporting a newborn, Alicia just wasn't gonna make it up our multiple stairways the very next day for a loud, kid (germs) infested birthday party.  So what did they do?  Uncle Seth showed up early for a special FaceTime tour with the Little Man and his Aunt.  She cyber walked through his whole set-up, asking questions and validating excitedly.  Like she wasn't busy needing sleep or figuring out how to nurse or change dirty diapers or something.  

And then Seth came back for the party.  Fer reeealz.  AND we were invited down the next day for celebratory drinks with more cake (Phoenix's birthday cake was The Most Scrumptious Cake Ever Made.  And I mean that.  I'm not a big wedding cake eater, but this shit was divine.  Unfortunately, Z reacted to it, so the thirds and fourths I would have had were out of the question;) while they gave him bday gifts and chatted him up about the party and made him feel like the center of the universe.  

I, meanwhile, couldn't keep my hands off of that baby :)  Which, didn't make my baby all that happy... But, fortunately, she so dotes on Uncle Seth that when he shined his attention on her, she happily forgot me.  But when she remembered Alicia or I, well, she reeeeeally wanted to get her hands on that squiggly little doll in our arms.  

Which makes sense, as her baby doll is her hands down, absolute favorite toy.  She carts that thing everywhere.  She has created a sign for it (an arms together rocking motion).  She sings "rockabye baby" to it (the tune, but the words are just mumbo jumbo;) as she sways with it in her arms.  She feeds it and hugs it and kisses it and sucks on its face.  

And she would Very much like to do this to baby Sofia :)

I started this post weeks ago.  Then sickness and travel (and motherhood in general;) got in the way.  Now we haven't seen our sweet extended fam for a week and it kills me to be gone right after that baby is born.  (But, probably for the best, or Z, P and I would smother her:)  P, seeing baby Sofia through the window on our way to the airport yelled, "Oh, I love her So Much!"  It brings tears to my eyes, thinking about him having these little ladies looking up to him (and probably eventually pummeling him;) and thinking about Z having a built in best buddy.  Sophia being born has been the best example ever of the old saying that babies just make love multiply.  Though I knew Seth and Alicia would always be amazing to P and Z, somehow they seem even more amazing, even though there is another person around to love.  So what has always seemed contradictory, really is true: babies multiply love.  

The Big Birthday Bash

P achieved the birthday bash of his dreams.  It's funny, I'd always fallen on the "set small expectations" side of the scale.  As in, do next to nothing for celebrations, so that any little thing seems fabulous.  One gift.  A chosen meal.  That about sums it up ;)

But P has been indoctrinated in our culture (thank you, Hollywood) and seen big blow outs and grown a dream sliding towards the other side of that scale.   So I embraced our switched sides, remembering another mum I once met who'd exclaimed, "Oh, we have a Huge bash every year for S, we love really celebrating her birth."

Let me say up front.  I learned I'm not the sorta mom that can slide to this end of the scale on a yearly basis.

And, turns, out, P isn't the kinda kid who could either :)

But, for this year, for this one time, it was Great.  He had a ton of friends show up.  He had his chosen clowns from around the corner come.  He had his stacked cake.  His house decorated.  His party favors made.  And he had fun.

I think the clowns were a bit much, personally.  But I'm sound sensitive.  Things were rolling along nicely and they burst in singing happy birthday and I about climbed out the window :)  Then they set up shop upstairs, many nicely seated themselves for the show and.... the Little Man continued hanging from the rafters. Almost right over the clowns.  Yes, this was awkward :)

And this is what I learned from having a big birthday bash:  Screw general judgement.

That's a hard lesson for me.  I'm kinda a people pleaser.  There were a million things P wanted that I (internally) questioned.  Like chocolate dragons for the gift bags?  Oh, but not all parents will want to take home huge chunks of sugar....  Clowns and balloons... too over the top??

The birthday boy hanging upside down during the entertainment?  Oy vey.

And I'm sure, to those that don't know him that well (probably everyone but me) that it looked like he wasn't enjoying the entertainment or something.  But I knew it was the way he was dealing with being the center of attention and so much noise and activity.  He always recedes to movement, to climbing.  So I could challenge him down, to "look right" during his party, to make me feel more comfortable.... and I heavily considered this...  Or, remember that this was His party and he wasn't hurting a fly, that everyone could judge it however they needed and I didn't need to own that.  Even though I very much like to own other's thoughts about me because then I can make them nice thoughts :)

Then they all ran around with their custom balloons, whopping each other and laughing and climbing the rafters and hiding in the loft and dropping crumbs everywhere.  It seemed they had fun.

But P was overwhelmed.  He had a couple friends that really wanted to play with him and he just didn't' have time to individually play with each pal.  He recognized all of this and talked to me about it after the party, explaining that he'd loved his party, but thinks next year, maybe, just 3 friends and a pizza sounds good...

(Non-clown) music to my ears.

I think Z may have appreciated the party more than anyone.  She danced her little toes off to the clown's music, bopped balloons with the best of them and I even found her hugging guests on the couch!  Yes indeedy, this little family of introverts has finally landed an extrovert...

The Screamer and the Stoic

I should be sleeping.

It is effing impossible, even with a Superman in residence, to catch a break when you are sick with your kids.  Or, at least, when I am sick with My kids.  (ie. While one screamed and nursed last night, the other was heavy breathing and screaming from sweaty, fever induced nightmares. And they both wanted me right. then.)

I should be in Kansas.

They adore their father.  And he is, well, Superman.  But when they are tired, hungry or sick, he may as well be mud.  No.  Mud would hold more allure, all brown and gooey.

I should eat more greens.

But, since I am awake, in Oregon, briefly without babe and obviously short-listed in the green protecting awesome-immune department, I will blog before I fall too far behind and forget.

Zia fell sick.  She was pathetic and didn't move off of my body.  Contrary to her typical self, she didn't even move while On my body.  I never take my kids to the doctor when they are sick, trusting their bodies.  I schlepped her sick ass to the doc by bus.  Even the doc was alarmed.

The next day, she screamed.  I know she usually screams when she is sick, but that's usually at night (the most logical time to scream, of course.)  She screamed All Day Long Too.  With 10 minute breaks to regain her energies, she would then launch into an hour tirade.  Freaked. Me. Out.  She wouldn't even nurse.

Of course, we were to climb on a plane (two, actually) the very next day.

And double of course, as I hauled her screaming ass around, frantically tossing in laundry and trying to prepare for our long trip, I could feel myself running into the ground.

So, amid my stress and her screaming, I called the doc.  Again, I NEVER call the doctor.  And I anxiously awaited my symptoms to soldier on so I could figure out what the heck was killing this kid's happy and leaving her with diarrhea.

Long story short?  P and I both shot up awful fevers and miserable malaise.  We have been feeling terrible, but, well, neither of us have been screaming :)

We sadly canceled our flights.  The next day, as P profusely (and silently) yacked into multiple bowls, E quipped, "And right now, we'd be in the Denver airport."  Yup.  Dodged a bullet on that one.  (As, last year, P was puking in the Denver airport.  You'd think we'd clue in and not fly during the flu filled fall...)

Meanwhile, Z developed sores in her mouth.  Then blisters swelled up on her feet and hands.  A fleeting memory from a year ago swirled.  Something about a foot and mouth disease.  Something I'd teased darling Dale about being for farm animals...  I called the doc.  Again.

So we're all down with hand, foot and mouth disease.  Or Cocksackie.  (Could that sound any grosser?!)  And the kids have wanted to both be on my body for the entire ride.  Z, screaming, P, a total stoic, barely saying a peep.  E swirls around doing what he can, bringing water, cleaning puke bowls, gathering food.  And right now, finally giving me the break I really, really needed of just sitting on my ass rather than racing after a toddler that is hobbling on her poor blistery feet, screaming for everything.  (Last night she heard P say Seth's name and launched into a tirade of "Seeeef, Seeeef, Seeeeeef." If she can't have it, she is going to scream for it this weekend.)

And, of course, she can't have Seth.  Because that gorgeous, new baby can come near nothing that we touch.  We visited sweet Sofia right before Z got sick and I was in tears thinking we'd gotten her sick.  I don't know how mums with toddlers and newborns do it.  The germ infested mixing with the innocent....

Thank gawd my little germ spreader finally accepted Superman for a bit.  I'm not sure which I'm happier for, a moment of stillness or a moment of quiet.  Because E, always with a song on his lips, has been singing the Troggs song all day, with slightly altered lyrics (making it no less annoying)

Blisters on my fingers
Blisters on my tooooes
Cocksackie all around me
And so the sorrow grows...

Yah, actually, I'm most glad to be rid of the singing for a bit ;)  I can snuggle by my stoic and blog while E sings (that horribly annoying song) for the screamer.  Funny how different kids are.

Halloween

Halloween seemed to be the best yet. P was totally into it, as usual, but the idea of being seen at large in a costume still gets him stuck. Despite crafting a cool ghost costume, he decided last minute to fall on his failsafe and sport his Harry Potter garb. That's three years running, folks ;)

The weather was unbelievably beautiful, leaves littering the sidewalk, all colorful under the street lamps, and just enough foggy mist to make the evening special. Z wasn't too tired and happily hung on my hip waving to everyone. It was just the four of us this year and that felt special and sweet. P hauled in more candy than ever before, chattering up almost every house, wishing them good evenings and just sounding So Big. He saw friends all around - some houses even had special treats just for him - we really felt like part of this community - a new thing for us :)

I never get Halloween pics! Kids are too excited to pose and it's always shitty dark light :). Here's the best we've got ;). (Z DID wear her dotty cape and her Amazing Aunt sewed both kids sweet pumpkin bags, so she even had a Little Red like "basket" (with an apple, of course:).

Almost 8

Phoenix turns 8 tomorrow. As I lay here, feeling my youngest sigh into sleep tonight, I'm happily remembering P's birth. I'd been working damn hard on it all day, 8 years ago (and still had a long way to go;) And today, exactly 8 years later, I've had the immense privilege of witnessing my amazing sister-in-law work through her first labor a little.

P has been simultaneously beside himself with excitement that he will be 8, excited that he will have another cousin, and dread filled that his new cousin will take too long in coming and share his bday ;). Alicia's bundle still has two hours left to slide in under the wire and she's working on it for sure;)

I'm kinda surprised how very, very, very excited I am to be an Aunt again. But it makes sense. I was a tween when my nieces and nephew were born and I luuuuuuuved becoming an aunt. They lived further away than I would have liked, so I tickled and bounced them up every holiday and visit I could. I was young, had endless energy and was the girl that naturally loved babies, so holding my brothers' sweet babies and chasing their adorable toddlers was the end all be all. Now they are all grown and spread far and wide working on starting their own adult lives, and I miss them. But I'm less fun, playful Aunt and more peer, occasional texter ;). So I'm ready for another round, another awesome set of munchkins to bounce and swing.

But, I guess since my own kids are still so young, I didn't figure on being quite so excited about another baby? So my overwhelming (hopefully not too stalker-ish) excitement about this new niece/nephew kinda tickles me. And the fact that I'll get to live so close this time around is beyond amazing. (I know they'll eventually be lured into another home, but we're hoping that's forever in the future:).

Well, enough blather, I best get some shut eye, as the Little Man promised he was rising early to rattle some packages ;) He is the Most Excited for this birthday that I have ever seen him. He has even given the go-ahead to have the birthday song sung at his party this weekend. He says 8 is the second best age (after 10, which, apparently, denotes "Big Kid"). E has taken a half day vacation, so tomorrow should be fabulous fun. And, with any luck, I'll get to see my new niece/nephew too!!!


Below - Z, obsessed with belly buttons, loves to poke at Aunt Alicia's ;). Today, she had to do it between contractions ;)