Moving and moved.

Goodbye Woodlawn House

We were driving around today, and Violet said "you know, sometimes when we're over here [in Fremont] I forget about our new house and think we're going to our old house."  I asked her if she misses our old house, and she said "a little bit… but mostly I just really love our new house".  
I think that's how I feel too.
I haven't written in a while, so I'll fill you in:  We managed to move out of our apartment at the end of January with the help of many cousins and uncles and aunties, and have been in our new house now for about a month.  Mostly, it has been quite wonderful.   The first week or so was really rough.  We realized our heater doesn't do the job, I got horribly sick, and because it is an older house we immediately had about 50 million things that we wanted to fix.  Leaking refrigerator, toilets, faucets.  The peeling bathtub needed immediate attention so that it could be ok for a kid to sit in, and we very quickly entered the world of blinds and curtains in attempt to insulate.
We've had a swinging door of heater men coming through, giving quotes on various systems.  And, slowly unpacking a little more every day.
It's been a lot.
And figuring out how to route my paths to preschool, the art studio, the gym, grocery stores….

But with all of that said, we are falling in love with our new home.  It's amazing to have so much space, and to paint walls blue and green and pink and whatever.  Our street is so quiet, and in the morning the Eastern sun comes through our bedroom window.  Our neighbors are incredible, they bring us zucchini bread and strawberry pie.  There are tons of kids, and when it snowed they all got out their big wheels and sleds.  Also, I have this tiny space in the basement that is just for me and my art, which is a dream come true.  I sit and paint and look out over the backyard and dream of all the camellias and tulips I'll grow someday.  Neighborhood cats walk by and stare at me, surprised--  as if they have never seen anyone sit there ever.  This week the birds came out and started to hop around in the grass.    
We have a garage for our car, which we call "car house", and there is another little kitchen in the basement too, which someday might turn into my larger dream studio space (if we ever manage to clear out all the boxes).
Slowly, slowly, bird by bird, we are learning how to live in a space that is all our own.
And we are discovering new coffee shops nearby, and new beaches and parks.
Settling in is definitely a process that takes time (maybe months?).  There are only so many hours in a day, and right now it feels as though most of those hours for me are taken up with growing this baby-- who is at 33 weeks--  which  translates to dealing with back and tailbone pain, eating massive amounts of anything I can find, and falling asleep whenever I sit down for more than five minutes.
On that note-- I have a million photos I want to share of the new house, but they will have to come another day because now it is time for a bath (in our newly refinished tub), and goodnight.

Bird by Bird

The inside of my head feels like a chipmunk's den-- a mess of cotton fluff, dried up clovers, and little bits of paper everywhere with scribbled reminders of appointments and last week's grocery list.  There is the list of magazines and credit cards, the zoo and various insurance companies that need a change of address submitted--  all floating around and bumping into ideas for baby names, and questions to ask my midwife.

There are the things we need to do to the house before we move in next weekend.  So many things every day-- Paint colors, a new couch, a dripping faucet, the bathtub guy to resurface and repair and clean the grout.  Tyler working around the clock in between teaching his classes;  removing the weird temporary wall in the living room, cutting more molding, fixing a floorboard, staining the kitchen cabinets.   And the fire alarms won't stop chirping.

There is a dead worm that has been in the downstairs entryway since the first day we saw the place, and still I have yet to dispose of it (Violet is now calling that room the worm room.  

And then our apartment-- a donkey kong of boxes.  Boxes yet to be packed.  Boxes already packed.  Boxes filled with stuff for the new house, and boxes filled with stuff to donate.  And my cats keep packing themselves.  I keep finding stuff; there are literally millions of bobby pins everywhere.    

Of course normal life also doesn't really stop:  There is Violet's schedule, soccer, ballet, school.  She grew an inch and needs all new pants.  Also, it's wedding season, and shoe orders are rolling in-- hooray!  But where did I put my jar of Q-tips and masking tape?  

Then there is the pregnancy which refuses to be taken lightly these days.  My iron levels dropped which made me feel as though I were swimming through pea soup for a few weeks.  I started getting pretty strong and frequent Braxton Hicks contractions-- which are not fun and have made me take a step back from my weekly exercise routine (which makes me feel even more like I'm sinking into pea soup).  

BUT, really, life is great and exciting.  Overwhelming at this moment in time, but good and moving quickly forward.  

It's easy to feel swallowed up by it all.  Last week I locked myself and Violet out of the house.  She missed ballet class, and stood shivering in her leotard, dress, and tights in the driveway until our friendly neighbors took us in-- and I felt like a horrible mom-- trying to remember a million different things at once; forgetting the only thing I needed to remember in that moment (my keys); 

Forgetting to take things bird by bird.  

Bird by Bird.  It's the title of Anne Lamott's writing guide and a saying of hers-- which has gotten me through more than just writer's block.  Here's what she says: 

“Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report written on birds that he'd had three months to write, which was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books about birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.”

I say it as I fall asleep at night-- Just take it Bird by Bird.  It's the only way to get through these massive days.  Only 12 more weeks and my arms will be filled… and that makes every other task seem like a cake walk.

   

25 Weeks, and Christmas

25 weeks into this pregnancy, and I feel like I'm coming out of the honeymoon phase.  But more on that later…

Christmas was a fabulous three week long holiday where we ate turkey and toffee at every meal. My mom was here for a bit, which was such a treat, and we splurged on a beautiful Swanson's nursery tree, and watched our apartment transform into a Christmas wonderland.  Having a 4-year-old brings this crazy-joyful intensity into the holidays.  Frankly, we don't buy much for her during the year, and so having the excuse to give her new books, new games, new puzzles, legos, some little figurines, and a chocolate Santa bear…. it's just really fun.   Then, the days that follow are wonderful too.  She gets to work playing and setting up everything, completely focused, like she's writing a legal brief, or something of great importance.  New princesses and animals have to be incorporated into the ecosystem of her dollhouse.  Picnics have to be made, and we have to play her new card games a million times.  She disappears in her room or under the table with a new book, and pops out every twenty minutes to ask for help with word she's stuck on.  

Toys may just be toys… but they can also be so much more.  

And they have given me the luxury of time to myself over the past couple of weeks.  --Time to sit on the couch and sketch, or maybe sleep a little, or just breathe while the baby kicks.  

When I was pregnant with Violet, I read that the third trimester is the "growing phase".  --Where the baby, pretty much all formed by then,  just starts to grow and grow and grow, and get big and ready for the world.  I think I cried at that point, because, then, I couldn't possibly imagine getting any larger than I already was.  I wasn't big at all.  But being first-time-pregnant, you feel huge at every stage.  

This time, I haven't really felt so big…yet.  Just suddenly completely and totally uncomfortable.  

Why is it that there is so much ligament pain the second time around?  Shouldn't my belly remember this from the first time?  

I'm trying to keep smiling, but 6-months is definitely the trail marker (at least for me) where suddenly there is this small voice in my head-- pretty much constantly-- like an angel/devil on my shoulder-- that dryly repeats profanities throughout every circumstance during the day.  Example: The clerk at the bank wants to chat about the weather, and all my little voice is saying is "f-you and your f-ing weather".  I know, it's horrible.    

I can't wait for this baby to be here.  I can't wait to hold her in my arms, and be up at 2am just smelling her head in the dark against my shoulder.  I can't wait to look into her marble eyes and see the whole world and the heavens and the future staring back.  And, in the midst of that, I can't wait to slowly have my body back.  

Ok third trimester, do you thing.   We've done this before, we can do it again.  

More photos from the holidays….. 

       

21 weeks: Baby Girl Land

We've been busy.  Tyler and Violet have gone through various illnesses throughout the past few weeks, and we're bidding on houses, and trying to figure out how to make Christmas Christmasy without going home to California to be with our extended families this year.

I'm keeping my head above water, still exercising a couple times a week doing Zumba--which always sounds like a horrid idea when I'm sitting at home on the couch feeling lazy and pregnant, but always makes me feel like a million bucks when I'm actually out there moving around.  Energy is pretty good, spirits are high, time is moving forward, and we're somewhere around 21-22 weeks-- a little more than 5 months into this thing.  

Mid-pregnancy is a super exciting and slightly stressful time because it's when you get to go in for the huge show-stopper ultrasound.  

I think Tyler and I were both a ball of nerves going into the appointment.  There have been all of these little wormy thoughts and fears in our minds that this pregnancy might not actually be happening as it should--  still in disbelief that everything might being going as planned.  It's really hard having gone through a miscarriage before to not constantly have this little thought in the back of your head that something might be wrong.  

But, thankfully, we watched the silver-toned screen flicker for about an hour and saw this amazingly active and alive and seemingly perfect little person show off--  feet, hands, nose, head, kidneys, heart, and a spine like a fish with tiny little bones, all in row, curving down to a little round bum-- all moving in the dark.     

It's incredibly amazing.  Shockingly amazing.  Every little thing right where it should be; punchy little hands wave about and explore the face and find the nose and mouth.  There are fingers and toes.  There are eyes.  Bones and joints.  

We're on our way.  

And she is she.  A girl.  A second little girl for us.  

I feel like I'm the luckiest person in the whole world because I get to have not one but two girls to raise and watch grow up. 

I never had any sisters, although four brothers were quite fun.  I am excited for Violet, and for this little baby girl--  that they will have each other as sisters.  They can argue and sneak around and call each other when they need an opinion about something.  Is that what sisters do?  I wouldn't know.  I'm excited to find out.  

19 Weeks!

It's been a while since Ive posted anything about this tiny growing person inside my belly.  We're at 19 weeks now.  Do you know what that means?  It means we're almost halfway done!!
I have to say, in general this pregnancy has been much easier than my first one with Violet.  --Not that it's been a cake walk, but I generally I feel better than I did.  Maybe it's because I have my eating figured out these days (I know which foods create headaches, stomach pains, mood swings, lethargy, etc..).  Not that I haven't given into cravings for cheesecake and kraft dinner… but at least I can predict how I will feel afterwards and know how much is too much to send me on the fritz and over the top of a body-chemistry meltdown.  When I was pregnant with Violet, I had no idea any of these food intolerances were lurking with everything I ate.  I felt horrible almost the entire pregnancy.

Mostly now I just feel happy.

Also, I have so much support in my life these days than I used to.  So very much more support than I did five years ago.  I have made exercise a fun part of my weekly routine, I have my work that I love and that keeps me busy, I have a wonderful network of friends and moms who I can count on to laugh and cry with, and I have my most extraordinary husband (of course, he was there the first time-- but I feel like this time around he has somehow gone above and beyond every expectation with his greatness).
Also, this time, I have Violet.
Violet keeps my spirits up, and keeps me busy and distracted every day, which actually is an enormous help.
Next week we get to learn if it's a boy or girl kicking around.  Whatever it is, it feels strong already.
I'm feeling these little punchy kicks.
It literally feels like butterflies all flitting about at once-- knocking around, drinking root beer and pop rocks.  When I'm flat on my back it's a bit startling.  It's a good thing my brother and sister gave us a box of baby socks; I have a feeling those feet are going to need some protection against the wind when they're kicking wildly in the open April air, just 20 weeks away.

     

Appendicitis, or maybe Pneumonia, or maybe a Mystery

There are a lot of really tough parts about being a parent, but on Monday we got a tiny glimpse of what the hardest strand might look like.  

Violet had a bit of a fever on Sunday.  

Then, Monday that little-bit-of-a-fever turned into a raging fire fever, and I found her doubled over on the bathroom floor crying in pain that her chest and stomach hurt.  She was breathing in this really shallow quick way; she was in agony.    

We ended up in the urgent care of Group Health-- and they started doing all of these tests--  putting IV tubes into her tiny arms, drawing blood, pumping her full of fluids, taking ultrasounds.  It's hard to have to hold your child while they are weeping in pain, and know that you have to be the strong one.  You have to comfort them and help them feel safe, even though you are scared bananas.  

Group Health decided without a doubt that it was appendicitis and that she needed to be taken to Children's Hospital to have surgery that evening.  So, off we went, in the middle of the night, across town to Children's.  

Let me just say first that Children's Hospital is an incredible place.  I was so impressed with them.  Every nurse and doctor there just showered kindness on our child.  Between talk and tests and fluid IV's we watched movies, played with play dough, looked at stickers….  and while we were all a bit distracted, they somehow were able to get her fever to come down a bit.  

More ultrasounds, and stomach poking, and X-rays, and finally we got word that the doctors and surgeons were not as certain of appendicitis as they originally had been.  We would have to wait and see if the stomach pain got better or worse and if it moved to the right side of her little bean body, and watch the fever too.  

2am, finally we were sent home.  

Tuesday, another checkup--  Violet asking me on her bed before we left "are they going to do more shots? do I have to go to the hospital?  am I going to have more sugar water in my arm through that tube?  sugar water, just like a hummingbird, that's funny!"  

But luckily, my little hummingbird has been getting better ever since Monday night.  They called and said it possibly could be a small case of what they described as "lower abdominal pneumonia", which often shows itself in young kids through similar symptoms as appendicitis.  

But her fever has tamed itself and she's jumping around like normal…so, at this point I don't really know what to think.  

Kids can get sick so fast.  It's terrifying, and its hard feeling so helpless.  

My tiny lady, who made me throw a birthday party for our cats last week, and who had me build her these giant fairy wings for Halloween.  I thought making fairy wings was hard, but let me tell you, this was so very much more difficult.  I would make fairy wings every day over having any of this happen again--  and really, even this could have been so much worse.  

Learning to Read

I've been ligging around the couch for the past three months, so extraordinarily tired and a bit ill.  Poor Violet, on the days when she's not in preschool, or doing ballet or soccer, she's stuck at home with her slug mom.  

But little people tend to be resourceful.  Yesterday she built a juicer out of tupperware, and I am constantly waking up from my couch naps to find tiny versions of Hawaii built out of legos and old popsicle sticks.
And when I'm awake, she sits with me in my big pile of cats, and blankets-- and we read.
We've been reading a lot.
We've been reading so very much, that she is now reading to me most of the time.
On good days, she takes my hand and pulls me up the road, past the troll, to the Fremont library to check out new "I Can Read Books", and then we bring them home and she devours them, along with juice and goldfish crackers.

I love to watch her face as she works out the words, the little sprockets in her head churning out all these sounds- "apple" and "puppy" and "time"-- with a little mumble to herself that the e at the end makes the i say it's name.  
It's so incredibly amazing.

Tiny little squirt, standing at the party with the Romans and Shakespeare, and Charlotte Bronte.  All the great readers and writers of the world, here comes my girl.  Smarty pants.
I'm a proud mommy.