W, currently

8 months

age: 8 months

eating: everything!  Favorites: avocado, strawberries (whole and sticky in his fat little fists), sweet potato

saying: ba-ba-ba (which has inspired a lot of Barbara Ann in our house)

loving: Mommy (duh!) and Grandpa (fan favorite over here)

listening to: If You’re Happy and You Know It, The Wheels On The Bus, and Hush Little Baby

proud of: himself each and every time he stands up

achievements: learning how to clap his hands and his feet (something he does each and every time he stands up – see above)

wanting: to crawl and run around and be MOBILE!  “I wish I can – I wish I can”

We Live In Brooklyn Baby!

The best thing about being on maternity leave, aside from spending quality time with the kid and all that, is getting to go out and do whatever I want each day without having to think about, you know, work (shudder).

Today, with no second thought about responsibilities (because I have none – aside from teaching and guiding and encouraging and raising my darling son and helping him grow into a strong, independent, intelligent, loving, generous, amazing man – phew!) we decided it was the perfect time to strap on our walking shoes and backpacks and play the tourist.  Time to show the little guy exactly how amazing this place is.  Time to watch his face light up at the towering sky scrapers and wave hello to every passing person.

Brooklyn Bridge27 Weeks Pregnant/8 Months Old

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Screen Shot 2013-05-06 at 7.20.36 PMThe bridge, the people, the cars… it all delighted Wyatt to no end.

Screen Shot 2013-05-06 at 7.21.04 PMAs you can see… the smile never left his face.

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Screen Shot 2013-05-06 at 7.21.32 PMThis kid.  This view.  The smile never left my face either.

In Living Color

It’s that time of year again. The time when everywhere you look things are turning from drab and dreary to bright and cheery.

This is the time when everyone takes a big sigh of relief and says, yes, THIS is why I put up with the evil grayness of winter.  This is the time when we all fall back in love with this ridiculous place.

Case in point: Tulips and lilac.  These beauties make it all worth it.

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The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

This time last year Joel and I strolled, hand in hand, through the Cherry Blossom Orchard at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I cradled my ever growing belly, Joel tried desperately to get a good picture of me, and we both dreamed of the day we’d get to bring our bouncing baby boy to see the beautiful blossoms for himself.

As I reflect on that day I remember we wondered what our son would be like. Would he be happy and healthy? Would he have red hair? Would he look like his sister?

This week Joel and I strolled, hand in hand, through the Cherry Blossom Orchard. I gazed fondly at the beautiful boy strapped to my chest, Joel (again) tried desperately to get a good picture of me and our son, and we both felt happy.  Wyatt spent most of the day charming the pants off everyone who looked his way and we just smiled, realizing that sometimes dreams do come true.

Screen Shot 2013-05-03 at 9.37.54 PM17 weeks pregnant/7.5 Months old

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Life As I Know It

Last week I left the babe in NY and traveled all by myself to Arizona to meet a friend’s new baby. I’ll be honest, I had some mixed feelings before I left… just not about what you might think. I had no reservations about leaving Wyatt at home. I knew he was in good hands and would be just fine without me for a couple of days. No, I wasn’t worried about him. I was worried about me. I was worried that holding a teeny, tiny, newborn babe in my arms would make me baby hungry (ok, truth be told, baby hungrier). I know, I know, you’re thinking, “You have a 6.5 month old baby! What the hay would make you want another baby right now?” Well, that’s the thing. I can’t stop myself from doing the math and feeling short changed by the answer.

1 pregnancy + 1 pregnancy = 1 baby.

That’s not right!  I did the two pregnancy thing, I should be doing the two kid thing.  I was worried about what might happen when I entered the now two child household of my friend. Would I watch her interact with her toddler and teensy and feel shortchanged? Would I snatch up those kiddos and make a break for it? Would I feel sad and envious?

Answer: None of the above.

For the first time since we lost Clementine, seriously, the FIRST time, I felt perfectly happy and content with the way my life is RIGHT NOW. EXACTLY as it is right now. Wyatt is entering a glorious stage. His personality is forming rapidly and every day he gives me new reasons to smile. He raises his eyebrow at me when he wants to give a little sass, he claps on command (well, when he feels like it), he sticks his tongue out and blows raspberries, he laughs and he smiles and he gives the best hugs.  I no longer spend every second terrified I’m going to break him.  He holds on to me as tightly as I hold onto him!  We’ve moved him into his own room where he sleeps though the night and I only check on him once or twice in the night (it’s the truth!).  I love the way my life is and finally, FINALLY, the feeling of panic and hurry, hurry, rush rush, has slowed to a crawl.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about why watching my friend interact with her two girls made me feel as though my life is perfect just the way it is. It’s not as if her toddler is a terror and her baby screamed uncontrollably.  It wasn’t like that at all.  In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Those kids are freaking cute. The almost three year old is bright and cheerful and precocious and inquisitive. She is loving and generous. Her baby sister is teensy and wobbly headed and just learning to smile. She stares at the world wide-eyed and curious.  And then there are the moments when the whole family is together.  There is nothing that warms the heart more than watching loving parents in the presence of their children.  For the briefest of moments I was the fly on the wall, and I liked what I saw.

And, there we have it. I was able to witness what results when a child is loved and educated and nurtured by family. I got to see what an amazing little kid Wyatt will grow up to become, and, when we are ready to add another to the mix, how he will welcome that new baby with pride and joy and thousands of hugs and kisses.  I learned a lot about being a good mother during my visit.  I came home with a lot of new tricks up my sleeve and I’m super excited to share them with Wyatt over the next few months and years.  Being a mother is something special and I decided I no longer need to hurry my way through it to get to the next thing.

Of course, now that I am feeling 100% content with my life EXACTLY AS IT IS…

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If I Ran The Zoo

If I ran the zoo I’d invite my whole family to enjoy the sites and the treats,
I’d include an elephant that performed tricks and amazing feats.

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I’d insist we have a red bearded man at my zoo,
no, not one, there must be two!

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If I ran the zoo I’d look at everything I could,
and I’d love to do it in my parents’ arms, because don’t you think I should?

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If I ran the zoo I’d probably get tired and need a nap,
I’d ask my mom to carry me in the Ergo backpack.

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I’d giggle and laugh and count to ten,
and then I’d do the whole thing all over again!

It’s A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Today we made another dream come true.

DUMBO. Where the macarons are perfect, the breeze is pleasant, and the views are spectacular. Where I envisioned a beaming redheaded boy riding on the carousel with his daddy. Where I pictured our family, happy and healthy and head over heels in love. Where reality exceeds expectation.

Today we crossed another thing off the list: Wyatt, meet The World. The World, this is Wyatt.

dumbo21 Weeks Pregnant/6.5 Months old

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IMG_2755Happier days were never had.

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Luck O’ The Irish

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Meet Joel in all his red headed glory. He may only be a teensy bit Irish, but even that miniscule amount translated to a full head of flaming red hair and a lifetime of good luck. I’ve seriously never met a luckier person than Joel. Want something from the claw machine? Joel will get it for you, guaranteed. Want to win at roulette? Have Joel nonchalantly place a stack of chips on a random number and watch the money roll in.  Need free drinks at the bar?  Joel’s on it.   This guy, and his lucky red hair, wins with a capital W.

Now meet Wyatt.  His red headedness is still up for debate, but whatever tiny bit of Irish Joel passed on down to this kid has certainly done its job:  just like his daddy, this kid only wins.

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Living The High Life

Life has a funny way of catching you off guard.  Even though I JUST wrote about the novelty of motherhood (literally 5 days ago), today I was yet again shocked and moved at the notion that, yes, this pregnancy worked.

Throughout my pregnancy with Wyatt I often dreamed about the things I would do with him once he was here.  I documented many of these dreams in the little notes I wrote to him as Joel and I  journeyed through the belly series (and the pregnancy) together. All of a sudden, as in, just a few days ago, it occurred to me (once again) that he’s here. He’s HERE!  He’s in this world and all those things and all those places and all those memories are ours for the taking.  Let the games begin.

Drum roll please… Wyatt, I give you The High Line:

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And… Buddy slept the ENTIRE time. This kid.

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It’s Not Easy Being Little

Parks are for big kids. Even the littlest parks, designed for the littlest kids, are meant for kids bigger than Wyatt. He’s just a little too little.

Slides are confusing and not that fun:
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But feet? Feet are awesome, always.

 

Swings can be fun… but sometimes, they make you feel like you’re sitting in a giant’s chair:
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Standing can be stressful:
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It’s too much Dad, I can’t handle the responsibility!

 

But, regardless of size, there is one thing at the park that brings Wyatt joy all day, every day:
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Licking the railing.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

Introducing the bug to the wonders of the park:

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And witnessing Wyatt select his favorite way to spend the afternoon:

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Getting the eyebrow raise from the little buddy. My just desserts after giving said eyebrow raise to my parents umpteen times.

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This little neck and this enormous head:

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And, my personal favorite: A mother/son photoshoot. The. Best.

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What A Wonderful World That Would Be

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In the world of make believe it is understood that conception + pregnancy = baby = a lifetime of laughter, love, crying, snuggles, joy, toddlerhood, hugs, adulthood and pure bliss.  I believed this wholeheartedly when I conceived Clementine.  I remember thinking when I saw that magical line appear on the stick that whew, we did it, we made our dreams come true.  My head and my heart skipped toward the future, hand in hand.  And then my baby died.  And, even though we conceived and even though I carried her for 9 months and even though I met all the mandatory milestones and crossed all my t’s and dotted all my i’s, Joel and I left the hospital still a two instead of a three.  And then, 7 months later, Joel and I conceived again.  I was, of course, skeptical that this pregnancy would result in a baby because, well, look at my track record.  But, we still had hope.  We talked names almost immediately, we imagined our bundle, even though we knew better.  And, lo and behold, at 9 weeks we discovered that this baby, too, had died.  I was really starting to wonder why we’ve been led to believe that conception + pregnancy = baby.  This was not my reality!  What was I doing wrong?  Or maybe, I was the only one let in on the secret:  there are NO guarantees when it comes to pregnancy.

So, when 5 months after the miscarriage I conceived again, I found myself actually denying that this pregnancy would result in a baby that, you know, we’d actually get to keep.  As Joel and I stood there, waiting for that double line to inevitably show up bold and bright, I felt uncertain. I was batting 1000, people, albeit for the wrong team.  (Okay, I’m mixing my metaphors, but I think you get what I’m saying?)  Why should this pregnancy be any different?  I had done this before, almost EXACTLY before, with the same due date and the same major milestones falling in exactly the same places…  I kept thinking, isn’t the definition of crazy doing the same thing and expecting a different result?  We didn’t tell a soul until my protruding belly forced the announcement.  I no longer looked at pregnancy with the same rose colored glasses as the millions of women surrounding me.  I felt their attitudes were careless, cavalier even.  I kept my nose to the ground and waited for the inevitable to happen.  But, no matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise, I was hopeful.  I did envision a wrinkly newborn baby who would one day turn into a toddling baby boy who would eventually turn into a man I was proud to call my son.  I took belly pictures and I bought baby boy clothes.  I sewed curtains and I picked out a name.  And, as the most beautiful baby in the world was placed in my arms, I stared at him with wonder and fascination.  Conception + pregnancy CAN equal a baby that’s yours forever.  I didn’t know what to make of this.

Today that magical bundle turned 6 months old, and I STILL stare at him with wonder.  I’d gone through an entire pregnancy and then been expected to return to life as usual, and yet this time was different.  Every night as I listen to him breathing, deeply asleep, I think to myself: “I went through an entire pregnancy and ended up with a baby!  I ended up with him!  He’s mine!  He’s MY baby!”  The concept is a complete novelty to me.  I often look at him and think, “Pinch me, I’m dreaming.”  But pinch after pinch, that baby remains MY adorable baby.  He looks at me and squeals with delight in the way only a baby looking at his mama can.  And, I realize, I’m his mama!  What a wonderful thing to be.

I don’t know if I will always feel this way about pregnancy and motherhood, but I hope that I do.  I don’t ever want to take a single moment of motherhood for granted.  I want to always look at my baby and feel amazed that I get to be his mama and he gets to be my son.

6 Months

The Way You Make Me Feel

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I have written and re-written this post in my mind about a dozen times and yet the words never feel right.

The one absolute truth I have learned after conceiving and carrying and birthing two babies is that the English language can, in no way whatsoever, describe the way I feel.  I have shared the technicalities of Wyatt’s birth, but how can I possibly share the rest of it?  The rest of it, the emotional side (other than the fear and terror that have plagued me since Clementine passed away) seems to evade me at every turn.  I want to shout it from the roof tops, but where do I begin?

How can I tell you how worried I was that Wyatt would replace the space in my heart reserved especially for, and left vacant by, Clementine?

How can I tell you the relief I felt upon seeing and meeting my son?

How can I tell you that I felt my heart expand and a new place, a place designed just for Wyatt grow and snuggle in so deep and so near that lovely spot of Clementine’s that I actually felt whole again?

How can I tell you about the smile that crept over my face when I locked eyes on this little person and knew in my soul that I’d known him forever.

How can I tell you the joy I felt when I saw Wyatt for the first time and thought, “Yes!  It’s you!  It has always been you!”?

I stare at Wyatt as we snuggle in bed and I am amazed and filled with awe at his beautiful face and spirit.  I love watching him pretend to be asleep and roll over to snuggle some more.  I love kissing his face over and over again until he inevitably gives up and bursts out laughing, blue eyes wide and bright.  I love the way he looks up at his Grandpa and stares and listens so carefully to every single word, waiting for Grandpa to finish his story before he grins and returns to whatever he was previously doing.

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By gosh, I wish I could find the way to tell you how much I wish I could see my baby girl snuggle her brother and how much I wish my days were filled answering her inquisitive whys about this new creature who lives in our home.  I ‘d love to tell you all about how I long to see Wyatt gaze at his big sister, eyes filled with admiration.

I am no stranger to unconditional love.  The instant I discovered Clementine was growing inside me I fell madly, deeply in love with her.  I loved her and I loved her and I still love her, but my love became stuck when she passed away.  I had years and years worth of love for her and nowhere to put it.  Now that Wyatt is here I am astonished at how I am filled to the point of overflowing with unconditional love.  I have learned just how unconditional unconditional really is.

As you can see, it is virtually impossible for me to let you experience and understand my feelings as I really feel them.  The words are not there!  Perhaps I’ll give it a try in person the next time I see you and with the help of some arm gestures, flushed cheeks and wild eyes, maybe, just maybe you’ll begin to understand how much I love my son.  How much my life has become the life I was meant to live.

I feel blessed.  Something I swore I would never, ever feel again.

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