sunday

Played amongst trees her size, wrote and sent a letter to the big guy, and found a new use for holiday stockings.

Check

Quiet time turned nap - check
Contents of file drawer emptied - check
Underwear and sock drawer "organized" - check
Placement of stool to climb back into bed- check
Pants removed- check

tricky, tricky

I think Steve and I surprised ourselves with how little effort and stress it took to organize for Thanksgiving this year. Granted, we aren’t doing the cooking or entertaining, but we’ve come a long way from 2007 when a couple nights away make my brow sweaty and kept me up late night thinking about what must bring items I must be forgetting. More evidence of our family of three well-oiled machine prowess. Of course I say that and we will have undoubtedly forgotten something of massive importance… and there it is… my toothbrush. Regardless of toothbrushes, not only did we pack up quickly and and organize efficiently, but I also had time to make a double batch of Ina's Pan Fried Onion Dip and prepare Caroline mashed potatoes for her classroom’s “Thanksgiving Feast.” I had to cut myself off from sampling both. It was harder than I thought.

Steve came up with a plan to end all plans; a single car. This eliminates the whole “I’ll meet you at home at” equation and was a cleverly disguised way to ensure my timeliness this morning and afternoon. I couldn’t linger over breakfast. I can’t send just one more email before I check out of the office. He’ll be picking me up at 11:45 with lunch in hand, maybe his plan wasn’t so nefarious after all? We’ll speed off to daycare together to retrieve our very own little stuffed turkey and head up north for the holiday.

I'm having trouble keeping track of the babies in Caroline's classroom. There used to be a Mason, but now there is a Braden and Braden is a big boy. He is only 8 weeks old and built like a linebacker. When I got back into the car with Steve this morning I told him there was a new baby and he was quite large for his age. "That's how this one is going to be! He's going to be an offensive lineman for BC!" Oh, really?

We’ve got so much to be thankful for this year.

Wishing everyone a happy and safe holiday.

the absence of all motivation

Some of us are still recovering from the last Boston College tailgate/game of the year this past Saturday. Special thank yous to the wonderful people who took on the clingy toddler holding duties for me throughout the morning, afternoon, and early evening. My back literally was incapable of snuggling the “hold me, hold me” little girl this time. Hard to imagine that this was the last game we’ll attend as a family of three. Hey look, it's Kiki and Papa - the Season Ticket Holders of the MONTH!


I was surprised on Monday morning to find a toddler who wanted to just sit and be as much as I did. She splayed herself across my lap while we read a book on the couch and I eventually just put my head back and ran my fingers through her curls for what felt like way too long. It took a monstrous level of motivation to get us up and out to the grocery store – but the promise of frozen turkey selection assistance seemed to help move things along a tiny bit. BigY handed out turkey coins earlier this month for 10.00 off a fresh or frozen turkey and when I told Steve his eyes pooled over with visions of gravy, mashed potatoes and dark meat. He’s keen on Thanksgiving. So I picked up what I hope is a doable size frozen bird for the freezer downstairs and scheduled a turkey dinner the weekend after Auntie C and Hokie’s wedding. YOU might be in Hawaii, but we’ll be eating turkey, assuming all goes well – I’ve never made a turkey before?

Caroline NEVER sleeps on days we have her at home. She gets some quiet time in her room and that seems to do the trick, but yesterday she asked to go to her bed to nap. I had to gently wake her after 90 minutes and she didn’t actually really wake up until she passed the two-hour mark. This spelled certain disaster for bedtime especially since the nap did not end until 3:30. I knew if I tried to nap myself that I would have been completely out and then utterly useless for the rest of the day, so I busied myself tidying, bleaching tiny onesies that seemed a bit yellow, stripping crib bedding, writing a list of things to do before we jet out for the holiday and showering. Please note the placement of my own cleanliness on my level of priorities; pathetic! Steve called just after my quick body cleanse and noted that I was out of breath, slurring my words even. Apparently getting yourself clean and fully dressed again takes a lot out of you when you are 31 weeks pregnant.

I wanted to sit, but sitting was just as uncomfortable as moving yesterday. Baby Mac had positioned himself in such a way that no matter what I did to try to find some relief, I just found myself sighing deeply. I had Steve touch what I can only describe as the “belly shelf” (the space between my chest and my belly) so he could feel the amazingly annoying position his son had gotten himself into and I think his bulging eyes said it all. I’ve clearly been fooling myself that I haven’t been all that pregnant because suddenly out of nowhere I am one big pregnancy complaint; my back, my feet, my hips, my lungs! Every time I open my mouth to whine, I think about how much we wanted this, how incredibly fortunate I am to even have these complaints. That seems to shut me up for awhile, until I have a terrible night of sleep. It’s never a good thing when your first statement of the morning is “that was the worst night’s sleep I have had in months and I’m going to try very hard not to take it out on you.” I’ve learned a few things in the past five years, but so has my husband. When he sensed a struggle to get the child out of her pajamas this morning he pulled himself from bed to help me dress her.

I didn’t laugh when my 31-week Babycenter email started with “having trouble sleeping?” Ok, I did, but it was of the sarcastic I hate you variety. This week Macadamia is about 3.5 pounds (four navel oranges!) and over 16 inches long. He is fattening up now as his body starts accumulating fat and he can turn his head from side to side now. Even after a tough night with little sleep and a sore lower back, I am reassured by his constant moving. Though it at times is all a bit too much (for the love of GOD, relax!), I smile each time he reminds me he is there.

and just because... some photos of Caroline from last week that made us laugh. She was playing catch with Steve and everytime he threw her the ball she was closing her eyes. So it wasn't so much a game of catch really, but it was silly fun. I can't help but laugh at the second shot. She is such a playful, vocal, smiling delight... who loves her Daddy.

interlaced

On my way to get Caroline yesterday afternoon my Sirius chirped at me that one of the songs I had stored into the memory was playing, so I hopped over to find out what it was. Dirty Water by the Standells. I sang along (OF COURSE!) and as I got closer to daycare I decided to rewind the tune, pause it, leave it running and play it for my daughter post pick-up. I wasn’t sure if it would go over at all, but when it ended a little voice from the backseat said “again.” We’ve got her hooked! Yes, baby the Charles River is not for swimming, but we certainly do love Boston.

After another Dirty Water go around I moved over to the “Holly” station that I discovered earlier this week. There are already at least two stations on Sirius with round the clock holiday music and nothing could make me happier. I asked her as I switched the channel if she wanted to listen to Christmas music and suddenly she went on a multi sentence rave about SANTA.

“Caroline wants to see him! I want to sit on his lap. I write him a letter. Doggie (meaning she will draw him a doggie). He will love it.”

He will love it.

So I pressed on. “What are you going to ask for in your letter?” “Presents.” “What kind of presents?” “baby”

We’re not sure if she wants her real live baby brother to arrive packaged neatly under the tree on Christmas morning or if she just wants a new baby doll, but either way it isn’t happening. We have a whole master plan that involves the Bitty Baby for her birthday, which will nearly coincide with the arrival of her baby brother. So perhaps Santa needs to just bring along plenty of baby doll accessories for her to continue caring so lovingly for the babies she already has? I am feeling conflicted about this, but I know that the best decision is to have her special new baby arrive when the real one does.

I was overwhelmed with love for my daughter last night. As challenging as she can be at times, as headstrong and fiery as her moods may sway, she is so amazing. I am still the preferred parent which still really stinks for Steve and more often these days for me as I simply cannot always do the things she wants me to do. Simple things like carrying her down the stairs or dressing her after a tub. I’ve been thinking about my preferred status a lot lately and while we continue to address it and find ways to get around the mommycentricness of it all, I often wonder how it came to be this way. How has she become so closely bonded to me?

Last night at bedtime I volunteered to do the putting to bed business, mostly because the new room is still so new and creating a stress free bedtime experience seems paramount to switching off duties right now. I sang her Twinkle and she asked me to repeat a story I made up the other night to help get her sleepy. A story she asks for by name; “princess caroline.” A story that she goads me into repeating at least once leading Steve to call me a sucker. A story about her big girl room with a big girl bed and a big girl chair and pretty curtains and a pretty nightlight. After tucking her in and hearing NOTHING over the monitor for nearly an hour, she was suddenly chattering away to George. So at 9pm I went back upstairs and snuggled her in. It’s a slippery slope, but I lay down with her for a few minutes, stroked her curls, sang to her again. She asked for “belly” and put her hand gently on my stomach, interlacing her fingers into mine with her other hand, looking deep into my eyes and soul, not breaking my gaze. Her brother kicked her hand with GUSTO and I smiled at their through the skin connection. I wondered then, how did this happen? How does this child love me as much as I love her? How does she know how to make my heart soar and break it all at once? I know it won’t always be like this, but that tiny moment, those few minutes we spent there are minutes I know I will reference years in the future in a mental reel of most precious moments. Interlacing fingers. Connected gaze. Sweet solitude. Little girl and Mommy.

caro and the bookshelf

That cut/bruise just millimeters from our daughter’s beautiful brown eye seems to be more of the skinned/burned variety today than the bruise we thought it would be yesterday. It was evident that she had gotten lots of TLC from the staff at school over her injury when she showed it to me with a huge pout and told me “I hit my head on the bookshelf.”

This morning over breakfast I applied Aquafor and styled Caro’s hair into adorable piggies. The curls just don’t cut it at school. They can’t quite manage them if a nap is involved and if Katie isn’t there in the afternoon I pick up a complete ragamuffin with an absolute nightmare of a hairdo that screams neglected. She looked at me as she scooped up another spoonful of oatmeal and said, “I don’t want to go to school.” I asked her how come. “I don’t want to see Jordan.”

Steve was still upstairs and I didn’t want to make him dread the drop off anymore than he already does when Jordan is there, so I kept it to myself. Instead I reminded Caroline that Ryan (who apparently has the same reaction to Jordan when he arrives in the morning per Steve), Sean, Bailey and all her other friends would be there too.

Before too long she had a cinnamon pop tart (breakfast 2 of 3) toasted and wrapped in a paper towel for the car ride. When Steve went out to put the bags into the car she leaped from her seat and ran to the door for her coat, greeting him when he came back snapped into her coat, wearing a big smile and a ready to go attitude.

The ebbs and flows of being almost 3.

bruiser

"fell off a truck and hit her face on the bookshelf" or so says the incident report from school. Add the drippy nose (thanks little ryan of boogery nosedom) and a pre 6am wake up and wow, we're feeling pretty awesome today.

to here

from here


moving up

There were as expected a few sad moments this weekend.

...when I realized we didn’t have to keep the door to the basement open for the cat anymore.

...when Caroline asked to see photos of Reese and asked us which one we liked best.

...when Steve and I simultaneously cringed seeing the cat in the beautiful illustrations in “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and Caroline said “My Reese, I love her.”

I have actually found her far and few between questions about kitty to be comforting, a reminder that she is still on our minds and in our hearts. Since Caroline frequently references her little friend Hannah from school who left months ago for a home daycare, I don’t doubt that we’ll be fielding these questions for some time, but I do not dread them. It’s been odd not having a heat whore pushing her way against my body and not feeling a heavy lump by my feet at night. I gazed into Caroline’s new room this morning, at the sunlight streaming through the windows, and couldn’t help but think that Reese would have spent a lot of time in Caroline’s new big girl room. Perhaps she would have left my feet for smaller ones that don’t yet reach the foot of the bed. So I am sad for what will never be for them, but so satisfied with the life she was given.

We had an unprecedented number of visitors this weekend, which was such a mental help. Marc and Kelly spent Saturday afternoon with us watching the BC/Virginia game over wings. I don’t think the boys knew quite what to do with themselves since they didn’t need to text their gripes and celebrations. Caroline warmed up to them quickly and when they left Sunday morning to head back to Boston she was missing them fiercely, needing reassurance that we would see them next weekend at the “Red Sox game.”

Marc and Kelly’s departure almost overlapped Kiki and Papa’s arrival with the big girl bed and furniture. She immediately took Papa upstairs to see her new room and it all came together in what felt like an instant. Poof, a sweet little girl’s room. Did she like it? She leaped up into the bed, covered herself with a blanket, and had herself a little quiet time. She was too excited to sleep, but she did grab a nap on Papa later in the afternoon after a delicious lobster roll lunch and koi pond fish feeding.

Her excitement had not worn off at bedtime either. She wanted to skip books completely and go straight to bed - absolutely unheard of at 7:30. One problem, she wasn’t tired yet. Her new room is three times the size of the nursery and she had some trouble settling down to sleep, nervously whining a bit. Steve lay down with her for a few moments to reassure her and she slept all night, not one peep.

Last night with no nap during the day she literally fell into bed only to wake up in the middle of Gossip Girl with the terrible croupy cough. It took us a bit of time to calm her down, but when I took her out into the night air wrapped in a blanket to sit on the steps she settled, breathed deeply and eventually said she was ready to go back to bed. I was prepared for a rough night, but she slept right through, with just a twinge of that cough remaining this morning.

The cutest story from our big girl room extravaganza happened on Sunday night. We walked upstairs and I took her into the nursery asking her who was going to sleep there now. A bit of conversation later she came up with this nugget that she’s been repeating every time we happen to be in Macadamia’s nursery to raise or lower the shade. (Despite the fact that there is no reason to raise and lower the shade, it just feels ODD to not do it everynight and every morning.)

“Bye bye bed, I too big for you now, I sorry."

Not a baby anymore

Big girl making big girl puzzles and sleeping in a big girl bed.

the girl who is getting us through

Reese left us shortly before 4pm on Thursday afternoon. She was comfortable and calm. I was with her for quite a long time before and after and I know we absolutely did the right thing. I wanted to ensure that Reese knew she had not done anything wrong, that she was a good girl. There have been only a handful of questions from caro, but we're handling them as they come, giving her only the information she asks for. At her age that is all she needs. We're trying to not speak in the abstract. It's hard to be overcome with sadness when this little girl makes us so happy, but there is a definite void in the house and in all our hearts today.

3pm, but I'm already bawling

That's when I go to the vet to visit with little Reese and say the words that no pet owner ever wants to say. I've got to call it enough and how can it possibly ever be enough? I am trying to be realistic, to listen to my gut, to imagine the week she has had and how it cannot possibly go on and on like this indefinitely. The vet seems to think that she seems to want to get better, she's got a fighting spirit, but she won't eat. The only alternative is a feeding tube and I am not willing to do that. Without the feeding tube she won't eat and since I feel so strongly, what is it all for?


Thanks for all the kind words, the emails, the @mccashew messages. It's going to be a very rough afternoon and I am so thankful that my husband will be home tonight, that I won't feel so all alone in the house. We, our family, will never be the same. Baby Mac will never get to meet her royal highness. Caroline won't mimic us yelling at the cat to stop pulling up the carpet already! Kitty won't say "rawr!" anymore, but she will live on in all our hearts, our memories and in the background of countless photos. It's appropriate that she is in so many because in her life she was always standing back from the action, taking it all in, waiting for a warm lap to open up, for me to tap my chest and tell her "it's ok, cmon up."

It's ok Reese, go on up.
Mother's Day, 2007



"I did it!"

As steve said, one bad thing happens, one good thing happens. The
world goes on, it is so wierd.

Kitty is not doing well at all and I've made the executive decision to
make a decision tomorrow late morning. I am preparing myself for the
worst case scenario. We are sad and I'm exhausted from worry and
tears. My poor kitty.

In the meantime someone pooped on the potty at school today, was quite
proud of herself and celebrated with a twizzler.

What a world.

not kitty prison

She seems happy to see me.

my brother reese

We came home from Auntie C’s lovely wedding shower and bachelorette celebration to discover a cat who willingly accepted pets and high pitched “hi Reese!” greetings from Caroline.

Something was very wrong.

She looked thin and when I picked her up I was alarmed that she felt like half of herself. She was lethargic, but still sidling up to any available warm body, purring away. I did some investigating around the house and deduced that she had probably not eaten all weekend and it did not appear that she had drank any water either. The cat typically gorges in our absence, draining her self-feeder and completely emptying her water bowl.

Something was very wrong.

A call to a local vet got us an appointment yesterday morning, which meant that the toddler would need to accompany me. As we sat on the steps pulling on her sneakers I explained to her that Reese was not feeling well. “I kiss her and make her better Mommy.” I told her that this kind of not feeling well involved the kitty doctor. “Reese get a sticker?” We rushed through grocery shopping and she assisted me in putting everything away knowing that she was going to help me put Reese in her “special box” to visit the vet.

Reese showed spunk by hissing and batting the side of her carrier when an immense but friendly St. Bernard sniffed in her direction. This was a good sign I thought. Her yellow inner ears and eyes were not and immediately my heart sunk – liver. The vet wanted to keep her – hospitalize her – to do some testing and while I love my cat, I am not the kind of pet owner who is going to blow the holiday budget getting her cat on IV fluids and a catheter. They brought in an estimate for her “hospitalization” and I hate to admit that I was torn, but I was. A call to Steve and a decision that we owed her at least this day to find out what was wrong, to see if it might just be an easy to clear up infection or something terrible she would never recover from. I did not expect Caroline to react so badly to leaving her there. Tears streamed down her face the entire ride home, “Reese, Reese, Reese.” How could she possibly understand and yet, how could she not?

The vet followed up with me during bedtime last night, explaining that she was doing just ok, but that she was much more alert than she should be given her liver levels – all of which were “markedly high.” One was 10.1 when the normal range is between 0 and 0.9. My poor Reese. I’ll be calling back later this morning to see if things changed overnight, but as the vet said, her recovery is up to her and whether or not she’s got the fighting spirit to power through this. A small fortune in, what is another day of IV fluids and monitoring? I suspect we will know one way or the other today which way this is going, but in the meantime there is a very sad little girl in my house asking constantly for “my brother Reese,” telling me “I want my Reese,” asking me when we can go get her, “when can she come home and we can pet her?” I don’t have answers for these questions, but boy are they ever helping me get through with a stoic face.

Steve’s away this week so I am facing this on my own, though he has been incredibly supportive to even allow the billion-dollar hospitalization of a cat he has often jokingly willed dead. She is an enormous pain in our ass in so many ways; a total heat whore, a horrid cat pee machine, a constantly underfoot menace. She is also a part of our family and without her at home the house feels not quite right. Something very important is missing. When Steve is away she is my shadow, trailing me through the house, sleeping beside me, reassuring me that the house is safe and all is well. I am off all day tomorrow for Veteran’s Day and serendipitously this is most likely the day she will either be on her way home or that I will need to say goodbye. Steve won’t be here to help me make any decisions or even to say his goodbyes if things go south, but in many ways this is exactly the way it should be. My roommates and I got Reese my senior year of college for mice. She was the only cat in the Greater Boston area to be found during the great September First Boston Move. She was spunky even then, having developed a rep with the staff for scratching and biting – “she’ll be an under the bed cat, you’ll never see her.” It could not have been further from the truth. She never left my side during the most traumatic/dramatic break up of my life. She moved with me to my first real apartment post college, into Steve’s life when we moved together to Cleveland Circle, out to the burbs, to CT, to our first house. She watched my belly grow, avoided the constant chirping of a newborn, and is now that toddler’s treasured pet… even if she avoids her most of the time.

She just can’t leave, not like this.

the big guy and the "baby jeez"

Halloween brought carved pumpkins, orange lights, spooky tombstones, and marked the beginning of the blow up lawn decoration season with pumpkins topped by cats and witches. When we went to get Caroline’s H1N1 vaccine we chided her into putting on her coat by telling her we were going out looking for pumpkins. Daddy did go out of his way to swing by some of the houses we knew would have them up and lit, but she was pretty upset that our pumpkin trip had turned into a trip to the doctor.

Each school night I turn down a street off my regular route just to go by the one house I know will always have their blow up pumpkin’s air pumping. With Halloween gone, so were all the pumpkins and did I have a sad little girl on my hands earlier this week when I told her that Halloween was over and the pumpkins were G-O-N-E. I had a hunch that the “special house” (as we have started calling it) would already be primed for Thanksgiving and they certainly did not disappoint. So family with the first blow up turkey in town – the car that stops in front of your house every night around 5:10 means you no harm, we’re just yelling “gobble, gobble” and laughing that the silly turkey is wearing a hat.

Of course with the onset of lawn turkeys comes the beginning of the Christmas insanity. On Disney this morning she was asking for “More Christmas” after watching a Disney “music video” (????) for an upcoming holiday special. More Christmas. I can barely wrap my head around the fact that it is November and the fact that not one calendar in my house has been flipped is testament to this fact. Another fact, we’ve already shifted into holiday mode with list writing and budget planning. With the exception of some stocking stuffers and her big item – we’re done shopping for Caroline. We’re getting pretty friendly with our UPS driver. I think it’s going to be a pretty exciting holiday season for Caroline. We can explain Santa to her and try to come up with a connection between him and the “baby Jeez.”

Now, if you ask Caroline if Santa is going to come to her house she will go ashen and shake her head no. Somehow it got into her head that he is coming to take her away… like another like girl I know who 30 years ago thought Peter Rabbit was up to the very same trick. The apple, it does not fall far.

girls night

A special treat- Tinkerbell snuggling just the girls post pancake supper

the one he calls the root of all evil

The little girl at school who annoys Caroline with her complete lack of personal space boundaries is the only remaining piece of the school drop off sadness. Most mornings I still get texts from Steve about how the tiny menace has now moved on from merely touching Caroline’s foot to completely encircling HIS arm in an awkward embrace while he tries to settle Caroline in. Sometimes she gets the hint and follows another child away, millimeters from his face, but most days she is all up in Caro’s biz and we are not sure how to proceed. The teachers continue to try to redirect, but her mere presence seems to set our daughter off.

I handled drop off this morning to make things easier for Steve who was commuting quite far to another regional office. I distracted her on the ride in with silly songs, discussion about her favorite Miss Katie, and questioning her recent declaration that one of the teachers had been sick and had to go to the doctor. She clung to me when we got to her classroom door, glanced around, and finally allowed me to put her down to take off her coat. “Jordan?” I had breathed a sigh of relief the moment we walked in. Jordan was nowhere to be found. “Nope, Jordan’s not here” and off she went practically skipping to the table to enjoy her third breakfast of the morning, happy as a freaking clam.

Steve was right. This little girl is a big issue. I am on the verge of asking her daycare for a huge favor; to step back our days from three to two during my leave. We decided long ago that we wanted to maintain as much of Caroline’s schedule as possible, while also taking into consideration that I will not be working and have absolutely no benefits for my leave. The one-day step back seems reasonable and we think they will agree since they will theoretically be gaining another paying infant come late April. So we’re feeling a bit trapped here. I don’t want to make a big stink and finger point at a two-year-old right before I ask them to help us out and make an exception, but we also cannot stand that this tiny person is causing Caroline so much anxiety.

We could ask them to move her to another room, but that doesn’t seem fair to Caroline. With so much change this fall and so much change on the horizon, I cannot imagine her starting over in a new room. We cannot exactly ask them to relocate Jordan either, though honestly we’d really like to. We want school to remain her little place to escape all the craziness of home when February rolls around. Part of me is hopeful that they might agree to the two day step down and somehow not have the space for her to return to her classroom for the third day when we add it back into her schedule come April. Perhaps they will just transition her to the preschool room at that point instead of splitting her days between rooms?

In happier news, I went through the three Macadamia name options with Caroline in the car this morning as part of Operation Distract and she can say all of them very clearly. One in particular was annunciated in such a cute way that I almost called Steve on the spot to tell him that we could stop the debate. Hearing her say it in that sweet way everyday to her baby brother would be so adorable. At this point, we’re still deadlocked.

Last time around I detailed all of Caroline’s fetal development milestones here on McCashew, something I have yet to do with Mac. He is measuring over 14 inches now and weighing in well over two pounds, like a head of cabbage. He’s blinking and has eyelashes that surely reach the moon like his father and sister’s. Babycenter made me smile with a reminder to put my feet up and relax until they also told me that I will likely gain an additional 11 pounds this trimester. That would put me right about where I was last time with Caroline in the weight gain department, which isn’t all together bad. I’m trying to stay healthy, eat right, be active – that’s the most important thing– not the number on the scale. Steve’s started doing some extra workouts at home after bedtime and I really should be taking advantage of that time to do more than check facebook or catch up on my twitterstream. Have you seen him lately? You might not recognize him he’s looking so svelte. We’ll be quite a spectacle at the wedding.

my little outline

This past Saturday was Caroline’s third Halloween and though I feared an all out participation refusal in even the most benign way, she willingly pulled on her cowgirl boots, stuck her Sheriff badge onto her flannel shirt, and at times even wore her hat. She’s quite a cattle hustler now.



We were lucky enough to have a brief trick or treat at Sean, Courtney & Dan’s house pre football game. I was sad that she might not have a chance to ring a doorbell and even if she didn’t really know she was missing out, I did. Thanks guys for being available!! Dan dressed up early too so we could see him in his ridiculously cute pumpkin attire. It’s really terrible that this kid is so unhappy.



The cowgirl morphed into a princess overnight and by the time Auntie C and Hokie arrived to Papa and Kiki’s house on Sunday carrying their amazing wedding invitations, she was dancing around in her flower girl dress and shoes. Their wedding is in 60 days! 6-0! Final preparations are underway and we’ll be heading up to the Boston area this weekend NOT for a football game, but for their wedding shower and Colleen’s Bachelorette. I can’t say anything more or risk ruining the surprise, but it is going to be wonderful.

Caroline and I had such a nice relaxing day together yesterday. The little diva got to do exactly what she wanted to do, when she wanted to do it. I even spoiled her by treating her to a movie in mommy and daddy’s bed. She loves those. She nestled right into me, forming her little body into a Mommy outline, turning around a few times during Tinkerbell to ask me where baby brother was. She’s looking for him in my belly now, lifting my shirt to take a peak. I grabbed a quick snooze during the movie. I’m more tired during the day now that I am regularly seeing 4 o’clock am on the clock. A normal person rolls over, glances at the clock and settles back into a deep sleep. A pregnant woman who just entered her third trimester (!!) rolls over, is instantly wide awake and spends the next 90 or so minutes staring at the ceiling willing herself back to sleep. I keep thinking it’s too soon for this, but I don’t think it is. I've actually gotten a lot of "mental work" completed thanks to this middle of the night wake up; figuring out the logistics of my task for the bachelorette, mentally arranging Caroline's big girl room furniture, coming up with holiday gift ideas. At least I am finding a way to make the time useful, but I'd really rather not know the answers to these questions.