daily interactions

Lillia has been lavishing us in smiles during all her awake time today. What a treat! She has my gummy smile already.

There's the happy smile:



And the giggle smile - the one that explodes across newborns' faces and disappears as they learn to laugh instead:



And Bella, I've been able to wear her down for naps. She's a happy little kid during the days again and is getting a bit more sleep at night. As her language grows, listening to her imaginative play is delightful. She repeats what we say, sure (Liiiiia, whadyoudoiiiinlia?) but what captivates me are the words that I don't remember teaching her, especially when she applies them in new ways.



Fug eyes boken (froggie's eyes are broken).

Oh really? What happened?

Wa wipe off! (they got wiped off!) Fug ah sad.

What are you going to do?
Bella hug.



And so it goes. She played with those little guys for a half hour and it was bliss.

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if i had known

that this is how naptime would look with a newborn and an emotionally needy two year old, hmmm....

at least she's napping.

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to my girls

Happy July to you, girls.

You get to share a letter this month (I imagine that you will have a lot of that concept to get used to anyhow). What a month it has been. Apparently when you have two kids, time goes by exponentially faster.

Bella, darling. I don't even know where to begin with you. You need me so badly and it is agonizing to see you in such turmoil. To see you reaching for your independence in so many little ways , and wanting the unwavering security of mama upon your return to earth. When you need me, it's overwhelming. You climb on top of me, grab me, and cling so tight that I seems like you want nothing more than to return to my belly. Sometimes I'm not there, sometimes you fall and my hands are full, sometimes your body gets out of control in a tantrum and this new baby keeps me from coming to your rescue, sometimes I have only half a lap for you to sit on, sometimes there is someone else in my arms at bedtime and it shakes your world to the core.

After nights of you screaming endlessly for me, crying yourself hoarse, worried sick to the point of vomiting, Daddy and I switched sides of the bed so you could feel me at night, so you could fill your own cup all night and not wake up feeling like you were stranded on a desert island. So you know that I do still love you. I was afraid you would wake me up every hour, since I know you still do, and then I would have two hearts to feed at night, but I was wrong. You stir, and reach for me, and that touch is enough to send you back to dreamland. It's just enough that I am there.

We battled all month, head to head, screaming, tantruming, hitting, and I'm ashamed to say these words describe me, too. Bedtime is still often a nightmare, but something finally clicked for me in the daytime. It's okay that you need me. It's okay that you hug my leg as I walk around the house. It's okay that you hop out of the stroller as I am pushing it because you need to be in my arms at that very second (even though I have to put you back screaming and crying and thrashing because, really, I don't have THAT many arms). It's okay that sometimes you glare at me and turn away when I finally do have a moment for you. It's all okay, because we're figuring out how much we still need one another. We're figuring out how to work that love into every little crevice throughout the day, and we're figuring out how to not resent each other for our love. We're going to be okay, I promise.

As for Lillia, my sweet. Bella calls you Lia, so while we call you Lily when we are out and about, you are Lia at home. Did you know I did that on purpose? Bella, too, and some day she make pick Izzy instead. Lillia, you are something to behold. A princess, really. Quiet, sweet, and calm. But make you uncomfortable and you squeal and shriek and whine. And don't bother trying to nurse you if your belly hurts or you are sleepy. Your entire day is spent searching for calm and equilibrium.

You are still a fan of the baby dive, pitching yourself sideways whenever you are upright. You are not terribly social yet - mostly you gaze around and often you make faces of utter panic so that we glance behind us for an axe murderer. Nope, that's just your thinking face. You're a mama's girl, which still surprises me, and will calm the moment you reach me. I have always treasured your sleep smiles, and now you are practicing them while awake, too.

You hate the car, and will scream yourself purple (so you sound like a dolphin) if you are awake. You are finally letting me wear you as long as your legs and head are not confined and you are tilted to the side. You're much more of a wiggler-mover than I am used to. I have a feeling you will be on the move the second you can. You still love your sleep, and every night that you fuss I cringe that tonight is the night you turn colicky. But so far, so good. Except that you sleep like noisy pig, and it's taking me time to learn which noises I can ignore.

It's hard not to compare you to your sister and I worry that her current antics will overshadow your babyhood, but fear not, you are paving your own way with quiet stealth. On occasion you stop and look at each other and I see a connection that I will never fully understand. I look forward to the months and years ahead as your sisterhood blossoms. To witness it will be magical.

I love you both more than I could ever imagine,
mama

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and then there was light

The next day was so much better. It's amazing how things like this come along just in the nick of time.

It's hot here, not HOT!! hot, but when it gets to 95 and you don't even own a fan, it feels hot. The house was 85 at bedtime, so Dave took Bella to sleep downstairs and Lillia and I had a great big bed all to ourselves. I don't mind the heat. We all slept great, and woke up ready for a wonderful day.

Oatmeal with fresh blueberries.
Delicious coffee, courtesy of my dad who roasts it and my hubs who brews it.
A shower, all to myself.
My first time leaving Lillia at home (since she hates the car and was not ready to nap).
An easy DMV errand, which turned into a Mommy Date with Bella. Just us two, hugs, cuddles, sticky notes full of scribbles, and whip cream to top it off. (And only a few tantrums, which did not last since I was able to pick her up and hug her tight.)
A new fan to get us through the one hot month of the year.

A visit with just Lillia to see my friend who had her baby a week after Lillia was born.
Lillia's great long nap which allowed me to be in the car for as long as I needed.

A quick phone call on the way home which was the beginning of a wonderful afternoon with family at the lake at the end of their road.

Smiles.

Excitement.

Funnitude.

Sparkles.

Sunshine.

Dawdling.

All finished off with blueberries from the back yard and birthday cake for my aunt.

Bella's asleep in the cool basement again. Lillia is squeaking, ready for me to come to bed. It's still 85 up here, but I'll be dreaming of that smile tonight. It was a good day.

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wistful

Catching up on photos. Sad, realizing that I haven't seen Bella this happy even once this week. Or haven't noticed it if she has been. Holding one baby when the other needs you so badly is so very hard. I miss my joyful little girl.

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so go the nights

Days have been pretty good. Even the ones where I'm alone
(except yesterday, the "come home early, hun, i'm about to lose it" day). Of course we haven't tried anything exceptional. Naps are still pretty elusive for Bella and we've resorted to the ever so eco-friendly habit of driving around in the car.

Nighttime lately has consisted of one or the other off us putting Bella to sleep, which can take between 20 minutes and two hours. Then around 3o'clock Lillia wakes up to eat, we switch sides of the bed and Bella wakes up out of a nightmare and starts thrashing and screaming and inconsolably for me (unless you're me, in which case she touches you and goes limp into a deep, sobbing sleep).

The night before last was a missed nap night (which you know is disastrous going in). Bella fell asleep after about 45 minutes with Dave and woke up an hour later when I came to bed. She crawled up next to me and Lillia and lay there awake (but remarkably still) for the next half hour. Then Dave came to bed, put her back into her bed, and she woke up crying for me. Since it was a rational, awake cry, and Dave was completely keeping his cool, I let him handle it without me rescuing Bella. She sobbed for two hours before finally letting Dave cuddle her instead. He had to hop into her bed to get her to sleep.

I sat by and listened the whole time to those heartbreaking cries. The ones that make you want to run to your baby. The ones that remind you of the times that you cried so hard because you thought that you would never get to be with someone again. No, it's not the end of the world, but it sure feels like it.

No matter how much I fill this girl up during the daytime, its nighttime that she needs the love. That is something that I'm still not sure how to handle. Society tells me to kick her out of our room and let her cry, that kids are resilient and she'll get used to it. My mama instinct tells me that she is a sensitive soul that might not get used to it, and why should she have to? It wasn't her choice to add another person to this family. Sigh. No nap yesterday (fireworks through the day and alllll night) and none again today so we'll see how it goes. At least I'll have Dave home by then to help.

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getting to know you

Dear Lillia,

Guess what? You're here! You know, even after another long labor (well, not the real laboring part, but you know...) I still look down at my belly and think, Where'd it go? How does it happen so fast? One minute it's just Daddy, Bella, me and the belly, and the next moment our lives are fuller and our hearts are bigger.

Of course, it's hard to say exactly who you are after just one week two weeks out in the world, but I spend most of my day shaking my head in amazement. I knew you were different than Bella - I had this intuition that the soul sharing my body was light hearted and peaceful. In fact, that's one reason I thought you were a boy, you were just so very very different. I just didn't know how different. You came out with brown fuzzy hair, which I thoroughly enjoy. I'd better stop petting it or you'll lose it before anything new comes in!

You sleep. That in itself is a miracle to me. You are so so so laid back. I think you've used your lungs once a day in the last three days, and that's it. (Okay, so it's a bit more this week, but I'll take it.) You are a mama's girl. Bella would go to anyone, and craved the movement and excitement and attention. You are soothed the very moment you and I touch. It is a strange feeling for me, and so rewarding.

You don't like the car much, but will fall asleep if you can have your hand wrapped around my finger. You take a pacifier (whoooaaah, I try not to use it.) and you purr in your sleep. Instead of waking up with little squeaks like Bella did, you grunt and cry and squeal. Your cries are extremely whiny, which I find hilarious. Bella was insistent, but not whiny. Until you came along, I simply thought everyone else's babies just seemed whiny. You also sigh great big sighs through your nose, and it sounds like the snort of a horse.

The hardest thing I'm learning is that your calm little spirit does not like to be unsettled, and the things that unsettle you are so different than Bella's, so I feel like a new mom again. As easy as you are, I have very few tricks up my sleeve for you. You crave peace. You are just learning to enjoy walking around with me, and finally this week you are accepting being worn. You sleep much better by yourself - you'll sleep on my belly, but anytime else you'd much rather sleep in your rocker. Coming from two years of a baby who needed constant contact and stimulation, this is beyond my comprehension.

Bella was a squished little baby - you got to float around in an ocean, goofing off for nine months. Now that you are out, you want nothing to do with swaddling. At three or four days your whole body was already completely relaxed. You still like to nurse with your hands in your face, and if you are on your belly you sleep with them there, too, but usually you spread out like a lazy teenager. I've never seen such a loose newborn before! Someone brought to my attention that in addition to her small home in my belly, Bella was likely scrunched up in a ball because she was in so much pain from her stomach. It breaks my heart to think so, but now that I see you, it makes sense.

I'm starting to understand you a bit more every day. I now know that if anything is wrong in your body, you will refuse to nurse. It's amazing to me that you understand that, and that you are patient in letting me remedy your problems, whether it be to burp you or put you in a better position. You're a gentle little nurser and like to snack, falling asleep while being burped or changed.

These might all sound like little things, but you don't know how many times I looked down at my belly over the past nine months and thought, Please, please, please be a healthy, easy child. I love Bella to pieces, and every struggle with her has had its rewards times a thousand, but I am still raising her, too. I'm so grateful to add you to the family, my little peace bomb. My world starts to spin when I think how lucky I am that you chose me. You calm my soul one little sleep grin at a time.


Love, mama

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