we're just fine

let's start out nice and slow, because i've got a toddler boy asleep in a crib 15 steps to my left and there's very little in the world that will pull me to my feet right now. this is it for me, nice. and. slow.

life is streaming through my fingers - tiny, microscopic crystals, sparkling and smooth. life is rushing on huge gusts of wind that come out of nowhere and drag me yards away before i have a chance to brush the unkempt hair from my face. life is sweet, glorious kisses from my two most beloved gentlemen, one hobbles over on unsteady knees, the other is holding his hand. life is this dream of mine that looks enormous, minuscule, terrifying, and extraordinary all at the same time. life is wonder, evolution, love. life - life is fast.

we get home in the evenings, henry and me, holding tightly to one another with our arms full of things. henry's neon green bag and blanket. mommy's purse, keys, and phone. sometimes we hardly make it through the door. most of the time our entrance is henry's body, folded in half so that his dangling feet hang just below his outstretched finger-tips, mother holding on for dear life. all the things fall, henry's head brushes the hard-wood floor. it was a close one, but we made it. we're just fine.

henry is upright, dashing towards the opened closet where we store coats, shoes, winter hats, toilet paper (too high for henry to reach). the shoes are great fun at 16 months old - henry can reach the shoes.

"oosch?"
"oosch?!"
"mama?"

he wants me to put on his shoes. the shoes he has in his hand are 10 sizes too large for his thick, baby feet. he loves shoes. he has 15 shoes outside of the closet now (dirty shoes. shoes i would have never let him touch in my other life.), piled on top of his legs. none of them have a match. it doesn't matter. "oosch!"

the shoes are cleaned up, neatly piled high on top of each other again in the closet. none of them have a match. it doesn't matter.

i have one minute to unpack henry's neon green bag, full of dirty clothes from daycare and a white, copied report that tells us what henry did all day. it's identical almost every day. i glance at it to be sure we're not out of any supplies - diapers? wipes? sunscreen? we're not. i have thirty seconds left to throw the dirty clothes into the washing machine before henry's hands skim the toilet seat, before he's found the cupboard he's not allowed to open, before he's got a hand/nose full of potting soil. damn, the potting soil. it's all over him. his clothes, his hair, the floor. damn the pretty plants - the bright, splashes of color i have in my home that remind me i am a woman, a person, i can keep a plant alive. henry's eating its soil.

his clothes are off, he's in the sink. his hands are spreading black dirt onto the formerly cream colored wall above the sink. the sink is now full of all the dishes left to dry on the counter beside the sink. they're dirty again. i throw them into the dishwasher. it's okay, we're doing it. we're just fine.

he's out of the sink, spread out on the kitchen floor, sobbing. he didn't want to get out of the sink. clear, thick snot is flowing from his nose, his tears are wetting the tips of his freshly cut hair. his cheeks are red, further highlighting their round fullness. he's got the most doughy cheeks. he's mine. he's a miracle. he's loud.

three things sit snug in my arsenal, ready for launch: 1.) tomatoes, 2.) cheese, 3.) bath-time. options 1 and 2 are most often used interchangeably and/or paired to steady a mad, red henry. in this moment, i choose to pair 1 and 2. to lure him into his high chair is an art i want you to know has taken months to craft. it's still not perfect. henry will remain on the tear-stained kitchen floor while i sing-talk calmly about how nice it would be to have a snack with mommy. tomatoes. cheese. all lovely things to ease the pain of evacuating the sink before henry was ready. i will cut up the tomatoes and cheese. i will have a bite. oooh, delicious! the first offer to henry is calculated, precise. not too pushy. nice and easy. denied. he wants nothing of it. that's okay, it's not over yet. i keep eating. i have an affinity to cheese and tomatoes myself, i think that's where he gets it. i place two slices of bursting, baby red tomatoes on his high chair tray and hand him a bite of cheese. he takes it. internally, streamers are falling from the rafters. he's 40 seconds from sitting calmly in his chair like a gentleman. he's in my arms, his face is glistening with every trace of transparent liquid his body has just expelled. it doesn't matter. we're just fine.

we spend the next 13.5 minutes in the kitchen together, chatting over the goings on with old mcdonald and his farm, the various noises mr. mcdonald's farm animals tend to make, the wheels on the bus - we have lots of hand motions for this one. i'm beaming with pride. this kid, he's a blessed genius. he's mine. we're just fine.

the door slams hard, rattling the door knocker. joey always lets the door slam. it's okay. we're just fine.

henry's face shoots to the location of the sound. the door?! dad!

"hi!"
silence.
"da!"
silence.
"dada!"
silence. excruciatingly l.o.u.d silence.

joey and henry have this game together, it involves a lot of creeping, sneaking, tickling, and high, screechy giggles. henry is reaching far from his perch in his high chair, neck craned, fingers taut. silent. beaming. he's like a enormously overflowing water balloon, every piece of him is stretched. the anticipation is starting to seep out of his finger-tips.

"da!"
"hi henry!"

such glee. such perfection. henry's face is dripping with tomato juice. his hands are speckled with cheese, the floor around his high chair is littered with clumps of tomatoey cheese. he is happy, eating, and talking loudly about daycare? shoes? the monkeys that are always falling off the bed? who can be sure? joey and i watch in wonder, busily making a supper we will both stand to eat. this is life. this is us. they are mine. we're just fine.

adios, 2014

2014 was one of those sneaky kinds of years that comes on highly anticipated and takes off in the night without so much as a lipstick smear on the mirror. i craved 2014 like a sleep deprived new mommy craves an ambien and a night nanny - hard! henry was tiny, healthy, and perfect, but soooo demanding of my time between the hours of 24/7 that i really thought i was losing every stitch of remaining sanity i'd held on to through his pregnancy. joey and i saw eye to eye approximately 2ish days of the week, and the other 5 (or was it 10?) were spent battling over important things like 'your coat is on the couch, again!', 'the pillow doesn't go there!', 'you'll never understand, your boobs aren't taking over y.o.u.r. life!'.

2013 saw shades of me that were straight hideous and confusing, and i looked into 2014 with love-sick, rosy goggles. and she shined. she really did. even when we were in it, neck deep in blown-out diapers and daycare drop off. it never got boring. 2014 was full of the kind of glamour and riveting excitement reserved for the tired and weary. our curtain call every morning was henry's squirmy bottom in the monitor as he vocalized his ripe entrance, and every night the lights dimmed with henry's stage right exit, his companions (bottle and lucky parent) wrapped snug around his pinky finger.

we said goodbye to 2014 at 11:15 (although huck blew a precious kiss to the old year at 6:27 on the nose, because he's nothing if not ornery on less than 12 hours of beauty sleep), and we were ready. because every new day is a better one, and every new year promises so much to look forward to. blindly optimistic? rarely. naive? always! we'll take it 2015, throw us a good one.

keep holdin' on

you know what just jives me up? these two. every. stinking. time. i just can't get enough of those faces. those wacky, increasingly identical smiles! there are things in my life that i'll always be grateful for, but hanging out with these two takes the cake. 

joey is out of town this week. he's enjoying mid-70 temperatures, phenomenal, towering views of guadalajara, and lots of down-time between meetings - he spent the afternoon sipping on mexican beers with his co-workers while i tackled all that it means to be a working mama with a blown-out tire this beautiful monday (darn you, sharp curbs on memorial bridge this morning!). but the thing about that seemingly not-glorious picture is that it sort of was glorious, in that messy, this is real-life sort of way.

and that's all i wanted to say. just that this life is really great. so i'm encapsulating this peaceful bliss that settled over me tonight when i sat down to cyber-monday shop with joey in the glow of our christmas tree and my computer screen :) this is contentment. this is hope. this is what we hang our hats on. happy holidays!

about the mama

okay. okay. i know. i know. down and out posts are for the birds, and you've seen (read) enough. believe me. beleeeeeeive me. i know.
but i ugly cried today in an official meeting, with official colleagues. it was not my best performance. it's making me wiggle in my seat a little thinking about it. and here is what i blame it on:
1. me (because, obviously!)
2. henry
3. henry
4. hormones because of henry
5. my job is high-stress, no fun right now and i have a lot of not nice things to say about it.

but, damn! this mama-working thing is hard. how do you do it? seriously, tell me!

okay. enough. it's out. it's aired. we're moving past it.

here, look at him.

this was taken last weekend, those spots are his battle wounds from when the hand foot and mouth
fairies knocked on our door and left a wicked trail all over the babes. he's healing and looks better since this pic was taken!

because toys are so fuuuuuuuun!

next time, it'll be good news only. lots of cheery tales! promise.

the quickest trip home

the day after henry turned six months old, we got up before the sun, hopped in a taxi, spent a few hours on a plane, and before 11 am we were at the sioux falls regional airport skidding down the runway and looking out at the familiar buildings and street signs that somehow send the same warm feeling through my body as a big hearty bowl of soup on the rainiest of days.

joey and i decided only a few weeks ago to make the trip home for a real quick weekend after i got an excited-to-the-point-of-hysterics call from my mom with all the reasons we just couldn't deny that we hadhadhad to be there. my cousin, my first baby, my little lys, my heart from way back, is graduating this year, and clearly i just couldn't miss her graduation reception. and bonus points for all, because my sweet cousin from my dad's side (who also happened to be one of my favorite people in all the land when we were little to play school/house/doctor with) was getting married on the same day! so there it was, decided on the spot, and when i was told my brand new job would start the week we were flying out, i had to say, "k, thanks a million. but i won't be there friday...," because priorities, you guys! but no trip back home would ever be completely fulfilled if we couldn't see the most amazing in-laws to ever walk this earth, so we begged (but didn't have to beg too hard, thankfully) them all to hang out with us on friday night, and alas, we got to see joey's family as well (but not nearly long enough, and why oh why does dc have to be so blasted far from south dakota?!). and for whatever reason, i will never remember to stop what i am doing for only a second and a half to snap a picture or twenty of our family together. i have a camera full of grainy pictures of the white house and every other high-profile spot in dc, but my family is what i really want in the end! i'm so sad that all i have of our time with joey's family are 7 different versions of this one, in which henry looks about at impressed as a slug to be hanging out in the sun.

and all i have of alyssa's graduation reception, although we were surrounded by more family than i could even name, are versions of this unruly hairdo atop one blindingly white exposed arm. but doesn't alyssa pull off hipster cool better than anyone else?

oh, wait. here's one at the graduation reception of henry on grandma's horsey. he didn't hate it.

the wedding overlapped alyssa's reception, so we missed the ceremony but showed up just in time to snag the last plate of potatoes, like the terrible party crashers we are. we surprised my dad and the rest of the family, so i passed my son around to make up for any hard feelings. i made him spend the most time with my dad because not only was he totally surprised when we showed up at the reception, but he's got plane tickets to fly out to see us this thursday so we're making him hang out with us two weekends in a row and i felt like we owed him as many big slobbery huckleberry kisses as possible. see you soon dad!

henry also got to smooch the pretty bride :)

my amazing mom drove all the way to the wedding reception to pick up henry and my brother's kids so we could have some quality sibling/adult time, minus our tired offspring. henry got to spend his first night away from mama and daddy at joey's mom's house, and mama got her first uninterupted/stressfree night sleep since henry's birth. winwin!

family is just my favorite thing there is. 

it gets harder and harder to keep henry so far away from the people and places that made us who we are. incredibly, the second i step off the plane in sioux falls i feel like i never left, and the people we get to see while we're there feel as close to me while i'm there as if we lived right next door to one another. but we don't, and for now at least we are here, in dc, to build a life for our little family. and so we will celebrate these quick trips back to the midwest and look forward to the time we get to spend with our families when they visit. and from afar, we love them deep down to the bottoms of our toes. 

deep, breathy sigh

do you hear that? it's the sound of not one but three sets of relieving shoulder rolls from all corners of the larson house this week (yes, henry had mandatory involvement as well), because we're rich with offer letters over here. on sunday, while enjoying his new hobby of zillow-stalking, joey happened upon a new area in arlington (just north-east of our house in alexandria) that is situated pretty conveniently between henry's current daycare and joey's job in rosslyn. plus, dc (and my new job) are quite a bit closer as well. so we found a reasonably priced apartment complex that boasts a great 2-bedroom floor plan with comparable square footage to our current town-home, and we pounced. luckily, we were able to lock down a balcony unit so joey can continue to grill all the live long day with our new little travel grill, which we've used everysingleday since purchase a month ago. it's summa time over here and we will shout it from the rooftops while preparing our feasts outdoors for good measure.

what?! did someone say "feasts!?!" right here on this tray, if you please.
(henry's wonderful grandparents hooked him up with this stylish new high chair before they left. thanks g+g!)

our move-in date is mid-july, so we've got some time to purchase lots more henry accessories before then and outgrow the new place before we even get there. you know, like the little smarties we are.

on monday, the skies opened up and my offer letter from work finally arrived. we're not wasting any time jumping back on the saddle (except if you count the six month maternity leave we'll be wrapping up, because if you do that saddles's been vacant for faaaaar too long), i start on monday. but don't you worry for a second that i won't drone on and on about every stitch of my first day for you once i've recovered from the shock of getting dressed in the morning (and staying that way all day). we're all shaking a little in our sweat pants because routine is what this family thrives on, and when you pepper in a job for the mama (with a 40 minute commute both ways), life will most certainly not glide on as before. you might send beer and bath salts for the patriarch of the family, because his wife life is about to get a whole lot crazier.

hope your week dries out a little. we're soaked in april showers this week and hoping they don't drown out the may flowers, which are hanging heavy in full bloom already. henry thinks the rain is a terrible annoyance when it splatters on his face. but you won't catch the one trying to wrangle the 20 pound prince, while gripping the umbrella under her chin next to the diaper bag noose, complaining. nope, not complaining one speck.

rainy days are for dirty laundry

warning: this post contains (metaphorical) graphic images of my soul splayed out in ugly detail. but it's real life we're after here, so read on if you dare.

remember back in january when i shared a tiny hint about something new coming up for us, and then again in march i asked for your thoughts because finally things were starting to iron themselves out and the job was "officially" mine… but not really, because it's still not even officially mine? don't worry, i wouldn't expect you to uncover the encryption of any of this… so let me start over!

when we moved to virginia, i took a job teaching sixth grade math in a school district that was considered "at risk". the math department was in shambles, performance scores were abysmal, and the school was without a superintendent. but i have a master's degree, and more than anything i wanted to teach math and provide for my growing family, so i took the job with excitement and a teeny bit of apprehension (because self-doubt is my middle name). but when i finally got into the position, surrounded by the most helpful and supportive team of teachers and administrators i could ask for, i crumbled. i was absolutely defeated every single day by the very real challenges that come with teaching in such a hurting district. my heart was broken for the students i couldn't reach and for the students who stared at me with wide, eager eyes from all corners of the room who couldn't reach me. my days started at 5 am and ended most days after 6, and every breathing second was focused on finding a way to morph sixth grade math lessons into blankets of strength and knowledge for a group of kids whose everyday thoughts literally consisted of finding a place to sleep, food to eat, and someone to care. and although to the very soles of my feet i cared, and maybe because of that, i chose to walk away from my classroom for good when henry was born. because i knew that i couldn't go on with my heart shattered every single day and be the kind of mom and wife i needed to be for my family. but the move wasn't taken lightly. joey and i spent so many sleepless nights going over and over the decision that we got more sleep with a newborn than we did those few months i was teaching.

i don't, even for a second, regret my decision to move on from teaching at this point in my life. i am a teacher at heart, and will always crave the feeling i get when i'm in a classroom, but now is not the time. here is not the place. so i gave myself two weeks to bond and cuddle my brand new baby, and then i began searching for a job that would help support us through the next chapter in our lives. while we lived in saint paul i worked for the medical school at the university of minnesota supporting the curriculum department and managing a few classes for first and second year medical students. i really enjoyed the work i did at the u, and so i focused my job search in virginia on something similar at one of the many universities in the dc area. about a month after henry was born, i was called to interview for a position in the medical school at george washington university (gw), and almost a month after the interview - still having heard nothing except, "the decision is still in the works," - we gave up hope that the job was mine. but finally at the end of january, i got a call from the medical school. they told me the job wasn't mine, i didn't have the experience they were looking for, but they were intrigued with what i had to offer them. miraculously, gw had decided to create a position for me supervising a group of people who essentially hold the same job i had held at the university of minnesota. i was honored they'd considered me for the position and so very anxious to start as soon as possible. but oh the red tape we've had to cross since that phone call in late january!

fast-forward to today, four months after my first interview at gw, and i am still waiting for the red tape to clear. i'm told the position will start in two weeks. but i could count on two hands the number of times i've been told that in only the last two months. meanwhile, our daycare had all but given up on us in march, so we were forced to start henry part-time to hold our spot (while paying full-full-full-full time prices. think double-rent-sized payments!) while i am still pacing the floors waiting. and waiting.

through it all, believe me, i am not feeling sorry for myself! in fact, the very opposite! we are blessed beyond belief that we were able to stock away a healthy enough savings fund while i was teaching to get us through this financially straining time. it helps that we are still able to get by without formula (thank god!), because henry's allergies would force us into a desperately costly variety! and an entertainment budget with an infant is essentially zero dollars :) not to mention some very special guardian angels (you know who you are!) have kept our growing babe in high fashion since birth. somehow, wondrously, everything has fallen into place.

in the end, i guess i needed to share this part of our journey to update those who've patiently waited for answers, or prayed for us from afar. but also to acknowledge how overwhelmingly blessed we've been. we moved to virginia with very high hopes and sparkling (blinded) eyes, and we've been surprised to find out how very real life can be. and looking back it's almost humorous to remember how rosy our blissful life once was, but encouraging to acknowledge how very blissful and fulfilling it still is. this life, it's such a crazy ride. and my two boys and i, we're anxious to uncover what's around the next corner. henry hopes it's a puppy ;)

thanks, as always, for reading.

#newparentproblems

how do you feel about the cry-it-out method? joey and i have long been on the fence about this somewhat barbaric approach of accomplishing sleep for henry, and have, up until now, mostly squashed the idea of suffering through the incessant cry-screams from our dearest huckle. although, admittedly, i've always sort of assumed we'd take the plunge eventually. there are several different versions of and philosophies regarding sleep training and i guess you might say we were in the beginning stages of educating ourselves via the google when the dreaded 4 month sleep regression (it's really a thing!) happened in a big way at our house. and you know desperate times call for yada yada, so we ramped up our google searches in the last few days because although desperate may be an enormous stretch here, by now you know that sleep rates super high on my survival necessities list. and lately, because my husband is probably the best there ever was, i've been pulling joey down with me on reallylong nights with henry, and we all know how happy a household can be when mama, daddy, and baby are all exhausted and short tempered. real happy. 

last week was long anyways, but two nights ago poor henry was bright eyed and notevenalittletired from about 10 pm until 4 in the am, leaving his weary parents trading the bundle of joy back and forth in hopes that the next bounce, or feeding, or cuddle would be the magic ticket to dreamland for the entire family. but they never were. until finally joey laid henry in his crib at 4 am, where we let him cry for 20 minutes until he finally fell asleep. that night the family banked a total of four hours of sleep, thank goodness, because another spot of snow fell in the dc area and joey (of course!) didn't have to work the following morning. 

in honor of the previous night from not-heaven, joey and i held an emergency pow wow yesterday regarding the matter of sleep in the larson household, and decided to work on teaching henry to self-soothe (i.e. spend some time crying it out). and in true henry fashion, he spent the day in straight disgust of his parents' new tactics and slept m.a.y.b.e an hour and a half through the day, but laid down for a full night of sleep at 7:30 with very little fuss. at 3:30 am h woke for the shortest of short snacks, then laid right back down to cry for a few minutes until he decided enough was enough and he fell straight to sleep until joey woke him up this morning for daycare. 

i am by no means saying our incredible luck last night means, in any way, that we're back in line for a smooth sail with henry sleep-wise. nor am i saying our (or any) sleep training methods are best - because they're hard! veryveryhard! but we celebrate all minor successes around here, and i wouldn't blame you if you decided to skim-read the next time henrymakesthemamaproud.

here are a few pictures for dessert.

that furrowed brow.
he's always got a thing or two (not nice things) to say when we get too close to bedtime.

a day - or two - in the life

around henry's three month birthday, joey decided the sleeping pattern we'd been perpetuating with henry wasn't going to work. he was right, the hours were annoying! h woke up every morning around 7 o'clock - which i loved - but he refused to go down at night until at least 11. more often closer to midnight. of course he woke several times in the night too, so mama bear was lucky to bank herself three or four good hours of sleep each night. i'd gotten used to it by the third month, but in the beginning that schedule was my version of straight hell. the first night of our new initiative - operation 'get da mama some sleep' (gdmss) - we dimmed the lights in the house, bathed our grumpy babe, and nestled in for a few books before his scheduled feeding at around 8:00 pm. when it came time to eat, huck and i shut ourselves into my bedroom with the lights dim and one of us ate while the other silently pleaded for mercy and a solid 5-7 hours of sleep. strangely, that first night henry slept from about 8:30 pm until 7:30 the following morning. he didn't wake up once! we tried again the next night - equal success. and so it began, our celebrated nightly ritual of bathing, reading, and feeding, and eventually henry was asleep by 8 each night and regularly slept through the night, unless he woke once or twice for a (very quick) snack and went back down in less than a half hour. consequently, mother found her long lost mind again, and joey and i were able to re-establish a semblance of our old relationship, where we actually got to spend time with one another again without the company of our needy infant. life was good!

but you know i wouldn't be sharing all of this good luck, nor would i be writing in past tense, if our bubble of happy sleeping continued to hold strong. because on saturday night, exactly one month since we started operation gdmss, the clocks played a nasty prank on the larson household - oh, it happened at your house too? weird - and sprung one hour ahead so that henry found himself awake at 8:30 sunday morning instead of 7:30, and when the clock struck 7:30 that night, and his parents tried to begin the nightly bedtime routine, henry's body said, "hold it right there, mom! it's only 6:30!" although henry's always been a sucker for a cuddle and feeding with mom, and so an hour early didn't stand in his way of falling asleep right on time at 8 o'clock (new time). but something inside little huckleberry sent up smoke signals and sounded the alarms, because that night henry woke up six times before 1:00am. the next night he did the same thing. and last night, he was awake every two hours allnightlong! newborn henry came back in a big way, almost seven pounds heavier and four inches taller with much less hair! a speedy fast forward back to four month henry might not break my heart. because sleep has been such a welcomed part of my life again, and i missed hanging out with my husband!

it's also been a month since i swore off dairy for the good of huck's tummy, and today we had a follow-up with his pediatrician to make sure it's been effective. it hasn't, at least as far as his diapers are concerned, so the next step is to cut out soy. you know soy, the key ingredient in any of your major dairy replacement food items: cheese, yogurt, creams, fake chocolate, etc. so now i think i'm safe to eat... lettuce? i'm clearly exaggerating (like always), and of course it's a worth-while sacrifice for henry. plus, his pediatrician assures me it may only take a few months before we can start fazing dairy back in again, so i won't complain (much). but that is it for my lenten fast. i think god will understand if i don't commit to giving up decaf coffee this year. i hope.

henry and i visited his new daycare a couple of times this week, and i let him stay on his own while i bit my fingernails off and paced nervously while watching the clock like a mad-woman. the center is run by a peruvian woman named ana and her three spanish-speaking employees. the infant room - henry's room - is supervised by the only caregiver who doesn't speak any english at all. i couldn't even ask her what her name was. but when we found the center, we fell instantly in love. imagine how cool it'll be to have our kids so far ahead of the game they're exposed to and learn to speak two languages from infancy! plus we really loved the energy, the care-taking philosophies, and the overall cozy, homey feeling we got the minute we walked in. i finally got official word that my new job at george washington university starts in a few weeks, so it will no longer be just me and h all day every day (don't get me started on how that feels - horrible! - because that's not what this is about. don't worry, i'll (over) share more veryveryvery soon). lots of changes in our neck of the woods these days. if you have a minute or two, your thoughts would be appreciated.

hope all is well with you and yours!

in lieu of dairy, i shall complain

our little short-stop likes to relax with some literature before bed

did you know that food manufacturers are required by the fda to list the word "milk" on all product labels for food containing dairy?
did you know that milk is often found in baked goods, caramel candies, chocolate,  salad dressing, and nougat?
did you know that a dairy-free diet also requires the elimination of butter, yogurt, and cheese?

i know you're rolling your eyes right now and nodding along, because you surely did know all those things! and i suppose i knew it too, loosly. in the sort of way we know things that only remotely relate to us in our lives and we only stare in disbelief and sorrow at the poor soul who chooses to cut out the milk products for any number of "i'm going to be more healthy!" reasons. and we secretly giggle to ourselves, because who in their right gourd would e.v.e.r choose to eliminate such things as c.h.e.e.s.e, c.h.o.c.o.l.a.t.e, and b.a.k.e.d g.o.o.d.s**?

me. is who. and you know the way to my heart has never been the shiny diamonds. never! chocolate, is what! bake me a batch of soft, gooey cookies. that's it! and yet, i write to you in a state of dairy free health. and need i remind you that caffeine has also been nixed from my life? so for the past few weeks i've been hydrating with decaf coffee and living on cookies, and spinach salads - heavy on the shredded cheese and ranch dressing. i should be ashamed to admit all that, but i'm not. especially because it's over. all of it. except the decaf (spiked with almond milk, not cow) and spinach - thank goodness. and i'm in mourning.

for the last week this guy has been producing unusual diaper contents (and that's the furthest we'll go with that description). he's also taken to scream-wailing here and there throughout the day and bunching himself up into tight little balls of unhappy, which he hasn't done since he was about one month old. so i took him to see his pediatrician yesterday, and you guessed it! he's developed an allergy to milk protein. classic case, they see it all the time. so i got a pamphlet with a list of all things mother needs to avoid in order to make henny's tummy better (we already talked about that), and i was relieved! i'm not kidding, completely relieved to have an answer to every single question i had about henry's curious state. i now knew how to fix him, relatively easily. if you're a mom, you get it. you celebrate that ability to fix it. but that was last night... and this is today. and i want a chocolate chunk cookie. bad. but i'm not going to... i promise! although i would highly suggest you do.

so in 1-3 short weeks huck's tummy will be celebrating and i will be healthier than i've been in all my life :) win, win. but now my husband needs to find a different gift for valentine's day, because obviously his previous plans (should have!) included chocolate of various sizes and flavor. obviously!

henry weighed in yesterday at 16 pounds, 7 ounces, so we know he is growing like the dickens still. he's also doing something through the night that i'm not going to talk about for fear of reversing any saintly behavior that may be happening every.single.night for the past 4 nights! i'm talking, 8pm to 8am. all through the night. but i'm not talking about it, because mother likes her sleep and i am not going to jinx it!

**my neighbor lives vegan and gluten free, and the sweet soul drops off baked goods about once every couple of weeks that go straight to the trash because they taste like the sand casseroles i used to make as a kid, and i grew out of sand-eating decades ago. so when i say "baked goods", you know i'm talking about the real baked goods... high fat, extra fluffy, chocolate that just won't quit.

an ode to single parents

it's really not my intent to sound as if being henry's mom is anything except positively fulfilling and incredible, because it is. right now he's nestled snuggly in the crook of my arm wearing these great light blue fleece jams with forest animals on them (which suits him perfectly), and i can't think of a single second in my life i would replace this moment with. but we both have colds, the kind of cold that rips at your throat while you're trying to hush your crying child and produces messy sneezes and stubborn stuffy noses. we had a really rocky night last night, henry and me, nursing our coughs and fighting sleep like it's soothing arms were just the worst place to land. so instead we bounced, because my little huck can just melt himself right into a good bounce. and then we paced until there really was nothing left of us. and then we collapsed together on the couch surrounded by tissues and blankets and deep, heavy, raspy breathing.

it's in moments like those, when the mama magic is depleted and i can't tell if that dampness on our blanket came from his tears or mine, i pray long and hard for mommies and daddies who do it all alone. because henry has a daddy who spends his days at work and his nights at home bouncing and soothing, wiping and changing, patting and cuddling. he leaves us every morning with showers of kisses, and brings us all the cough drops and aspirators we could ever need. h and i really are the luckiest. and we know it. and if we didn't have joey, we would just be the saddest versions of our very tired selves. but there are moms out there, and dads!, without their best friend right there to make it all okay. they take showers and clean their houses, go to the grocery store and the post office. they find ways to get their hair cut (which i desperately need and still haven't figured out a way to make happen!). and it's a genuine mystery to me how they do it all without the help of a spouse (or significant other). huck is my true love, but he takes it from me, you know? the core piece of myself who used to squish into one day the elements of daily living one must perform as a functioning adult. i'll get it back one of these days, god willing, but lately i've resembled the sloppy woman you've seen at fast food places with ketchup in her hair and mismatched socks. i'm not proud.

so in this moment, while my eyes are dry and my hands are full of henry, his saline nose drops, and a spit-up-laced blanket, i thank god for henry's daddy, my saving grace, my husband. because even when i'm looking like this (really good!), he's still always here for us, his family. and gosh darn it do we love him :)

on being a mommy

the nights, they're of the sleepless variety around here. and the days, they sometimes drag on until i think the world is just me and my baby forever and ever. which is one part precious and two parts despairing and lonely as hell. these are the things i think of for just three seconds each morning, when the sun hasn't thought of rising and the time on the clock is still foreign to my new mommy eyes. 4:50am... why am i awake at a time like this? because huck is hungry, or his diaper is soggy and he's gone for 2.5 hours already without a snuggle from his mama. without the luxury of consciousness, i rise from my newly temporary post in bed and reach for my child. and then i am content, because his breath has calmed and his perfect little face nuzzles my shoulder. this is what it means to be a mommy. and they were right, it's hard stuff. but it's the kind of hard that makes every stretch of effort worth the struggle.

huck turned 2 weeks last friday. in a flash, his life is already counted by weeks, not days. his cries are becoming more familiar, his squirms easier to translate. we know now that he takes longer morning naps than afternoon naps. his greatest stretch of sleep usually comes between 12am and 3. he likes to be swaddled, but his hands always find themselves free. his tummy has started to hurt every night around 7:30, and daddy is best at making it better. he loves baths, now that he gets to soak in the tub. he hates when his diaper is wet/dirty. he falls asleep every time he rides in the car. he l.o.v.e.s. being in the moby wrap with mama. he's patient about getting his clothes and diaper changed. he's impatient when he decides he's hungry.

all of these things i know because i am his mommy. yet still the idea is hard for me to grasp. how did i become so blessed? i spend the majority of my time with henry contemplating that question. joey is always reminding me not to over think it. god wanted him to be ours. but i still find it so unbelievable.

sleepy head.

my favorite times with my little man.

tummy time for huckleberry. still pretty rough, but he's getting better!

today was henry's 2 week follow up appointment. he's already just over 10 pounds and stretches 22 inches. he's growing so fast! i came across this blip of a poem the other day, and i feel like it's shouting to me during this very new stage of my life. maybe it says something to you about yours too. have a great week and a very happy thanksgiving!

"Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return."
Mary Jean Irion

to birth a henry (part 2)

see part 1 here

i should clarify that when my positive amnio test came back early that morning, traces of amniotic fluid in the test were probably essentially zero, because let me just say (with an inappropriate amount of detail)... my comfy labor bed turned itself right into a modified kiddy pool of warm, gushing amniotic fluid during every. single. contraction. and the "semi-regular" contractions i was having after my water broke were actually really dang painful and essentially back to back, with a slight break after 3ish contractions. my nurse, who i will declare here and now a complete saint despite her charming bluntness, did little to affirm my agony.

nurse wonderful: okay, the bad news is these contractions still don't seem to be doing much. they're still mild to moderate, although they're coming relatively close together, so i'm increasing your pitocin level again.
jamie: mild to moderate?! really?!?! (while silently half-breathing/half-passing-out from the steak knife driving itself into my abdomen with vicious fervor)
n.w.: honestly, yes
j: (probably not very nicely with zero tact and quite a bit of sass) then i'll take that epidural now.

because my contractions (although apparently just weak little tinges of pain!) were coming so closely together, my epidural was administered while the gripping waves of labor continued to lacerate my body/sanity. am i being dramatic? absolutely. but i will tell you that in the 10 minutes it took the epidural to sweep over my body and turn those "virtually painless" contractions into prickles of warmth, and then absolutely nothing, were some of the most celebrated minutes of my labor experience. i also declare any woman who has, will, or has even considered delivering a child without the miracle drug to be my new and forever recognized greatest-woman-on-earth. because, ouch!

once the epidural was rushing through my veins, the time fu-lew by! before i knew it, we were creeping up on midnight and my midwife f.i.n.a.l.l.y. gave me permission to push. and push i did for an hour and a half, until my eyes popped out of my sockets and my toes locked permanently in the curled up position. joey was incredible, counting down through every push, providing ice chips on demand, and reaffirming every effort i gave. my nurse was the most energetic and supportive woman i could have asked for. my two labor coaches, they were fabulous. by the end, i was exhausted, but i would have pushed for hours. my mind was set, this baby was coming out of me right now... how ever far away right now happened to come. to the last minute, my nurse continued to sing my praises and coach me like she would coach a fighter going in for the last win. she convinced me that she knew i could do it, and so i pushed like he was already almost there, despite my midwives skeptical stares. but for all of our hard work, mr. henry refused to budge even an inch. he was locked into my pelvis with his head slightly tilted, making his escape completely impossible no matter how long we decided to trudge on.

the decision to deliver henry via c-section was surprisingly very painful for me. there is something beautiful about the natural process of delivering without surgical intervention, however medicated i had chosen to be. in my mind, i had a vision of how our delivery was going to play out. i knew our baby was stubborn, as demonstrated by his semi-dramatic refusal to excavate himself from my quarters, but i never imagined his birth to be anything but the old fashioned way. until it wasn't.

henry was born at 2:43 am on a friday. his squirmy body lifted high above me wailed with the brightest hello i could have wished for. his limbs were bright red and waving. his voice stretched across the operating room and bounced off the cold metal surrounding his entrance into the world. i saw him for only a second and then i could see only blurs of him through tears that crept on slowly and then took over in a sweeping release. my body was shaking so uncontrollably my teeth chattered together with a force i thought would surely make them crumble. i was completely overcome. he was what we were waiting for. his life marked the beginning of ours in the most literal sense, and from the second i saw his soft, rounded face i knew he would always be mine. his pain would be mine. his smiles would be mine. his struggles, his victories, i would share in them as a secret passenger on his journey. because he was it. this kid. he was what we'd been waiting for.

henry wakes up every morning blinded with hunger, as if he and his mama hadn't spent the night fighting sleep through almost bi-hourly feedings. his weak sighs and forceful grunts accompany his every sleeping breath. and when he wakes, those piercing dark eyes capture his mama's heart while we share smiles, stories, songs, and prayers together. nothing prepares a naive, excited new mama for the role she will play when her little one finally comes into the world. henry was more than i could have ever hoped for. he was more than i will ever deserve. henry richard larson, with my whole heart, i love you. I LOVE YOU.

we spend our mornings chatting about life's wonders. this kid... i can't get enough.

our first attempt at a family picture. we're working on it...

to birth a henry (part 1)

impatiently waiting for strong contractions. silly girl!

there are moments in life that hang in the air like the smoke shadows fireworks leave in the sky long after they've sparkled. henry's birth will always be one of those moments for me. and although i will try to capture the magnitude of that night, i will inevitably fail to accurately describe even a sliver of what it felt like to be there birthing a new life, bringing new breath into a room full of bright lights and sterile metal.

for two weeks leading up to my due date, my midwife confirmed noticeable and progressive cervical dilation.  i was becoming increasingly effaced and babe was head down and engaged by week 40. all good signs that birth was coming... soon! yet, it wasn't. i was already almost a week late and babe was just getting bigger. so at my last prenatal appointment (5 days past my due date) we scheduled my induction date for friday, nov. 8, exactly 1 week past due date. i couldn't wait.

my mom flew in on wednesday night and we chatted over pizza while making plans for the following day. we still had at least 35ish hours to kill before anything with babe was going to move ahead, and this girl was restless. the next morning joey woke early for work, and since sleeping in our bed with a 50 pound bowling ball in my stomach had become about as much fun as sleeping on a tree trunk i woke up with him and headed to the bathroom (for the 20th time in the last 12 hours). when joey got out of the shower we chatted about christmas logistics, our induction the following morning, and plans for the evening with my mom. before he left i let it slip that i felt like maybe... perhaps... but actually probably not... my water could have just broken. of course joey semi-panicked and requested that i call the doctor, which i did after sending joey off to work with a kiss and promise that there was (probably) absolutely no chance my water had broken and that i would keep him updated once i called our midwife.

the call to our midwife resulted in me pessimistically driving my enormous self to the hospital, just in case. baby hadn't moved since i woke up and that increased her concern, especially if my water had really broken. because i didn't want to jinx it, i left our packed hospital bags at home but didn't waste any time getting to the hospital. in the back of my mind i knew baby was fine and my scheduled induction for the following morning would be the true start of the labor i was sooooo ready to have.

i checked in at labor and delivery with my tail between my legs. i'd heard and read so many stories of women who show up at the hospital far before they need to and get promptly shown to the door. to keep me moving towards the l&d desk, i replayed my midwife's words in my head and tried hard to convince myself it was worth knowing the status of baby, who still hadn't moved all morning. after check in, i was surprised to be shown to labor triage and thrown into a gown. liquids were drawn, fetal heart rate monitors were hooked up, and i texted joey a quick status update. baby's heartbeat continued to sound in my ear as i waited for labs to confirm my morning scare was all just a sign of impending (but still not present) labor. at this point i was having steady but completely painless contractions (as i'd been having on and off for the past few weeks), and my midwife came in to check my progress - none since my prenatal appointment the day before. she assured me baby was just fine and warned me that chances were high i would soon be released since her intimate examination revealed in-tacked membranes (i.e. no water breakage yet!). with spirits low, i texted joey to let him know i was being discharged and to stand down for the rest of the day. i texted my mom to confirm our 11am pick-up date and waited impatiently as ever for labs to arrive.

thirty agonizingly long minutes later the nurse came in with her phone to her ear. i overheard her mention something about a positive amnio (a test used to determine if amniotic fluid is present in the urine), but assumed she was semi-rudely discussing the results of another patient's good news in front of me. instead, she looked over at me with a smile and a wink (darling nurse, she was) to negate my suspicions. positive amnio for this girl, we were staying!

i texted my mom and joey to let them know the change of plans and promptly got a call from joey demanding clarification and direction. although this stubborn babe of ours was due almost exactly a week ago, the idea of labor actually, really being here... as in right now, was completely surreal to us both. i don't even remember what we said to each other as we feigned a cool conversation (while both completely freaking out in our heads) about getting my mom to my car, so she wasn't stranded at her hotel while we were at the hospital, and joey to the hospital with our bags.

40 minutes later i was in an expansive and actually pretty luxurious labor suite, hooked to monitors and an iv of very-slow-dripping pitocin that took 3 painful pokes in my "excellent veins" to get right. joey arrived shortly after, and then we waited. and waited. and waited. i'd been at the hospital since around 7am, and by 3 that afternoon all we'd accomplished were some pretty raggedly distributed contractions that were clearly doing no good, and i was starving! at 5pm my midwife came in to break my water and hopefully get the ball rolling. a half hour after my water broke (the most disgusting feeling in the world, by the way!), i was having excellent (and increasingly uncomfortable) contractions semi-regularly. we were finally moving!

read part 2 here.... but first, pictures of henry to tide you over...

this face. after every meal.

only slightly tolerant of his mama after bath time. but that hair!

where I am

"BY CHOOSING YOUR THOUGHTS,
AND BY SELECTING WHICH EMOTIONAL CURRENTS YOU WILL RELEASE
AND WHICH YOU WILL REINFORCE,
YOU DETERMINE THE QUALITY OF YOUR LIGHT.
YOU DETERMINE THE EFFECTS THAT YOU WILL HAVE UPON OTHERS,
AND THE NATURE OF THE EXPERIENCES OF YOUR LIFE."

Gary Zukav (via nativecore)

so i'm working on that this week, instead of polluting this space with negative thoughts and/or electrifying details of my day to day. i'm also focusing my energies towards being grateful. grateful for second chances and for husbands who willingly give up saturday football to calm impatient wives with fresh air and small-scale adventures. i'll be back when grateful isn't all I can be at once :) 

on taking the lesson

it's not easy to admit, because i like to think i am a relatively strong person, but the last few weeks have been some rough ones. i tend to do the best when i know where i'm standing, and i know that my life is in some sort of logical order. i like routine. i don't like change. i like to be challenged, but mostly only on my own terms. these characteristics about me drive my husband insane because that means that every time something haphazardly rocks my ship my hands go up and i deflate into a blubbering mess of misery. again, i'm not proud of this. i also know it doesn't make me sound very strong.

over the last few years i've found myself positively showered with really, really amazing accomplishments and life-altering blessings. we got married, we're having a baby, we're healthy, we've been blessed with incredible job opportunities. but intermixed between all that wonderful - and sometimes because of the blessings - there have been some challenges i look back on and feel i hardly survived. my stomach still turns to knots over the memories. and today - these last few weeks - i've been in it again. i'm making the kind of memories i know i will remember later and cringe about. i feel sort of like i'm drowning, not just in the reality of the challenges but in the anxiety i can't seem to break away from. i know there are lessons that need to come from all of this. i know that in the end i will be grateful for the opportunity to have ridden these rough waters towards whatever is was that i was destined to learn from it all. but today i am having a hard time praising god for these great learning experiences.

i hope you are having a great week. i hope the struggles and challenges you are facing make you feel stronger and more capable. i hope you find lots of reasons to smile. meanwhile, i'm working on this:

lately i've been...

Making: a nursery for our new baby.
Cooking: everything in our cupboards before we can even turn around. where does it all go?
Drinking: tea. lots of tea for me please, because coffee is still on the not-while-pregnant list and it's the pumpkin lattes i crave this time of year.
Reading: all there is to read about labor and delivery, and let me just say - yikes!
Wanting: the constant feeling of uneasiness because of change to disappear (even just for a while).
Looking: at my slithering tummy. he/she is always moving.
Playing: with colors and decorations for the nursery. so many fun ideas.
Wasting: my planning period on this list. it's to cool the nerves and distract my attention. it's working, barely. 
Sewing: notta. but those curtains in our bedroom should be on this list.
Wishing: for more faith and contentment.
Enjoying: the moments before i drift quickly to sleep beside my husband. it's heaven on earth to have him by my side.
Waiting: impatiently for baby to arrive.
Liking: the cooling weather and fall decorations all around.
Wondering: what the baby will look like. will he have joey's smile? will she have my droopy hair?
Loving: that there are only a couple more months until christmas. I can't wait to see everyone!
Hoping: for an emergency reserve of energy to pull me through until saturday.
Marveling: at how quickly these last few weeks have gone. in a flash!
Needing: nothing more.
Smelling: hand sanitizer and dry erase markers. always.
Wearing: uncomfortable shoes. my feet have grown since i got pregnant and none of my shoes fit.
Following: the minute hand on the clock, praying for it to slow down.
Noticing: scampering feet in the hallway, the sound of learning next door.
Knowing: these days will get better, praying it doesn't take too much longer.
Thinking: i should focus more on small victories like joey is always telling me to do.
Feeling: grateful for a supportive husband.
Bookmarking: all things baby.
Opening: my mind to change.
Giggling: at the way my middle schoolers jump out of their seats to answer the questions they know so well. 
Feeling: overwhelmed, but grateful.

and this is what he's been up to...

month of new

it's not every day a girl gets to move to virginia and discover all kinds of secret places she never would have happened upon in another life, a life without moves and uncomfortable transitions. so this is to those transitions. the kind that aren't always easy, but which make us grow into versions of ourselves we never could have imagined. 

on monday, joey started his new job. he comes home every night anxious to report back how much faster his commute was, how many 4-star generals he saw on the metro, and interesting facts about u.s. owned property overseas. i can't tell you how excited i am to see his eyes sparkle with purpose now that he's settling into his first real job. if only we could get those h.r. folks to expedite our much anticipated first paychecks we'd be in business.

for the past three weeks i've been in meetings for hours and hours. my classroom is coming together but there is a ton o' work to be done before tuesday, when the students start back. whoever stole my inclination to stressing out though, thank you very much and do keep that away until forever. old me would have been a crumpled mess of anxiety over this time crunch, but for some reason i find myself feeling mostly nonchalant as the week draws to a close. we'll see how hard i'm kicking myself next week when the anxiety hasn't catapulted me into over-prepared, because lord knows over-prepared is the only way teachers survive. wish me luck ;)

a cross-country journey

i will tell you a few things i learned over the course of the past two days. we're not home yet, we can't meet our new landlord at the house until tomorrow morning, so we're staying in a hotel in hagerstown, md for the night. we've driven over 1,000 miles. we're both exhausted, and when we're both exhausted we like to keep a (very) safe distance from each other to help lessen our affinity to fighting (nay, tensely chatting). joey's taking a bath right now, which for those of you who know him is typical. you don't have to tell me about hotel bath tubs. i already know, and he already doesn't care. joey would take a bath in a horse trough if the water ran clear and lukewarm. i'm happy to have a second to get rid of the tension riding in my shoulders (and everywhere else) after two straight days on the road. yesterday was 13 hours, today was 10. the uhaul (pictured above) is terrible on the hilly roads that brought us into pennsylvania, through west virginia, and into maryland. we averaged 40 mph. i like to go 70 (okay, 80). i don't always get what i want, but at 26 weeks pregnant, my body was screaming at me to get somewhere fast so we didn't have to spend another second trapped in the car. i told my body to shut it approximately 70 billion times, and drove 40, diligently following the train of uhaul-pontiac all 1,000+ miles while it struggled to chug up every steep incline and slow way down for the slightest decline. god forbid we use the grace of gravity to speed the ship up a bit (oops, sarcasm seeped out a little there). this (un)comforting lag and lull repeated every 5 miles while we were aggressively passed from the left and right by gigantic semi trucks and frantic sedans anxious to get past the weaving Minnesota mobile polluting their hwy. it was as relaxing as you're imagining. i feel better now that you know where i'm coming from (even if you don't care/think i'm a baby/hate me for complaining). back to my list. 

things i have learned:

1. no matter how much i wish it wasn't true, virginia really is (explative) far away from south dakota.

2. pennsylvainia/west virginia/maryland's tree soaked hills along i-70 are absolutely breath taking.

3. i will never live in indiana.

4. my husband continues to be the most patient, thoughtful, determined man i know.

5. road trips are much more exciting/tolerable without child. 

we're going to get some rest/not kill each other. i'll update again when we're finally home!