An Open Letter to Lucy

On this, the day after your uncelebrated 5th birthday.

Four years ago, when Daddy and I found you online and called down to the Birmingham-Jefferson County Animal Control Center, we were just married and hadn't actually ever discussed getting a dog. I think somehow we both knew it would happen one day but we didn't know it would be three months after getting married. I found you, I sent your picture to Daddy, and the next day, I drove to Birmingham to meet you.

How could any one have seen this picture and not fallen

in love you immediately? I just don't understand.

You were there, quiet and alone, in a room full of loudly barking dogs. You were quiet and scared. You were skinny, but not the lean, muscular type of skinny. You were malnourished and your fur was long and dirty. You had sad eyes and looked at me like you were afraid of me.

But when I got you on the leash and outside, you ran like you didn't have a care in the world. You jumped to eye-level with me and your tongue hung out of your mouth as you ran in circles around me and rolled over for me to rub your belly- "Could she be my new Mommie?"

"Pick me. Choose me. Love me."

-Dr. Meredith Grey, not in reference to a dog.

I was. I was hooked. I wasn't allowed to take you home that day- but I would have. There were a few loose ends that needed to be tied up between you and the Shelter before I could bring you to your forever home. We had a house, and a bed, and fabric toys, rubber toys, chewing toys, toys with squeaks, toys with crinkles, toys with fluff - so, so much fluff. We had food and water bowls, along with food and cookies. We had a leash and collar- the very ones you still use today. We had a name tag, a vet lined up, and a name.

Lucy.

Also known as: Puppy, Puppycakes; Boogers, Lucykins, Puppins, Puppers McGee, Boogers McCheese, etc.

Three days later when we picked you up from the Shelter, we were warned that you'd had surgery just hours prior and that you'd be groggy, and might be scared or in pain, and that you might act tired and lethargic.

Well that didn't happen, and you've never acted tired, lethargic, or groggy since then. We picked you up, we put your collar on you, we tied a bow around it (for your unofficial new birthday, and because you were our Christmas present to us), and put you in the car on the towel across the back seat. I sat back there with you to keep you company and pet you and help you feel safe, while Daddy drove us home. To your new home! To your forever home! To a place where you'll be loved and cared for and walked and played with and everything else that comes from being the Family Dog.

December 16, 2011

And then... we brought home Not So Furry Puppy on June 21, 2015. And our sweet Puppykins got pushed aside.

You get yelled at now, for wanting to be with us- because when you shake, you wake up the baby, who is slooooowly drifting off to sleep- finally, and because you carry germs that we don't want to risk getting on the baby. You get grunts and sighs because you want to play with the baby, but he just wasn't big enough to play with you yet. Your walks got shorter and play time was abruptly cut in half (if not worse). You are back to sleeping in your house at night, lest you go into the baby's room and wake him up. You see all the new toys the baby has - things that squeak, or crinkle, or have fluff - and you can't play with them. You watch Mommie and Daddy go nuts over this tiny little thing just just lays there! and cries and has a bad smelling lower region. Its cries kept you up at night and its presence leaves you alone throughout the day.

Six months have gone by since we brought home Baby Brother, and now that he's about to start eating finger foods...

I t ' s   a b o u t   t o   g e t   g o o d   f o r   y o u   a g a i n .

Happy birthday, Lucy!

You will always be our first (furry) child.

Love,
Mommie and Daddy

December 16, 2011

December 16, 2012

December 16, 2013

December 16, 2014

July 16, 2015

I Bought My Giraffe

Today is a special day in history. And no, it's not because a year ago today we saw the movie Interstellar for free (thanks NASA). (Also, I hated that movie.)

A year ago today, I was working a Day Shift and felt funny. Went home, did some stuff, then spent three hours driving around town to find a specific toy.

I had been eyeballing this stuffed giraffe for years, but Hubs always said I could have it when we had a baby.

Well guess what? We're having a baby! I bought my giraffe.

A screen cap from the video being taken when

we told our parents on Thanksgiving last year.

I'ts been a long 12 months since November 6, 2014. A lot has changed - my body, our family, even our house (more to come on this one day)!

Don't mind the repeat dress in the middle. In my defense,

the pictures were taken 5 weeks apart. I swear I didn't just 

wear that dress allllllll the time. Just most of the time. 

Babycakes at 1 day, 1 month, 2 months,

3 months, and 4 months.

Now that he's about 4.5 months old, let's do a quick update.

Babykins has decided that he like road trips as long as the car is moving at a reasonable speed, and there are no slow spots. He hates traffic, much like the rest of the world. He's been to Atlanta twice (once for a Braves v Yankees game and once for a two-night concert he did not attend), Tuscaloosa once (nephew's birthday), and Destin (annual beach trip).

At 2 months, he started day care and thankfully, he's still loving it. His teachers, Miss Pam and Miss Tasha, love him. They still say he's so happy and never makes a peep unless he's wet or hungry. I still would like to meet the kid they're talking about, because it's not the one I take home! Though, he is better. The first few weeks of day care, when I would pick him up, he would just scream. Scream until he finally passed out. It was miserable. I was miserable. Hubs was miserable. Life was miserable. Now, when we get home, we play on the floor (tummy time and activity mats, sometimes in his bouncer singing Winnie the Pooh or our own song, "Clappy Feet."), laugh and giggle, and practice sitting up and standing. He tells me about his day in Goo's and Ga's, Doo's and Da's. I copy him. We make faces at each other. It's fun. Then we have first dinner (nursing), and then some purees. Typically after his purees, it's time for his HMT- or Hold Me Time. This occurs nightly around 630. He wants nothing but to be held. Even being played with actively on the floor is not good enough.

He likes bath time now. He's still not sure of the whole getting-out-of-the-tub thing, but he enjoys gnawing on his foam H (I've given him the U, G, and O also, but the H is his favorite). He enjoys the warm water. Soon, I think he'll enjoy splashing. I'll enjoy it too. I always loved bath time growing up- splashing and pouring water from one container to another, bubbles, soaps. So fun.

At 3.5 months old, Babycakes enjoyed his first trip to the beach! As small as he was, he was pretty cold for a large portion of this summer-turned-fall trip, so he never actually got into the salt water. He did go down to the beach and laid on a blanket in the sand. In the shade. In his non-beach clothes. Once. (Mom fail.) But he did have a fun time splashing and swimming in the pimped out private pool at the beach house.

Daddy lovin'.

"Oh my gosh these things at the end of my flappers taste so

good. Normally they taste like old slobber, but today they

taste like old slobber AND CHLORINE!"

What you see here is a baby who is about to be unhappy. So we dried

off, got cleaned up in the bath, and took a nap:

He started eating "solids" a few days after his 4 month birthday. His first food, suggested by his pediatrician, was oatmeal. He did not approve:

We cleaned him up and Daddy turned him into a little Amish girl:

Poor kid can't catch a break.

After a few days, we introduced a carrot puree, and it went over much more smoothly:

And then, green bean puree (which Daddy thinks smells like queso?):

As an aside, Tiny Human DOES like oatmeal, carrots and green beans. He likes oatmeal+carrots, and oatmeal+green beans, but if you give him green beans+carrots, you may as well be dead to him. Also, that combination is pretty unappealing to the eye. Tonight, we try sweet potato!

As for milestones, this kid is trying to sit. And stand. And crawl.

If he had his way, I'm sure he'd skip sitting altogether and go straight to standing and running. He likes heights, spinning, and "flying." I'm pretty sure he's going to be like me, in a lot of ways. (So far, he's showing signs of being left-handed despite Daddy's attempts to stop it, he like motion, as opposed to Daddy's extreme motion sickness, and he likes heights. Hopefully these qualities stay so in a few years, I'll have a new rollercoaster buddy.)

His first Halloween was kind of a bust because we moved from Chateau Perrin to the New Unnamed House. Picture anyway:

Our last official family picture at Babycakes' first home.

One year ago today we found out about our Baby Brownie, and this weekend, at 4.5 months old, he gets baptized. I'm so grateful for the lives we've built.

I Have Scars

I realized I never wrote anything about the cholestasis, and I thought I should.

I am happy to report that it went away within the time it took for my epidural to wear off. I actually hadn't noticed. I guess I was in a hormonal and exhausted state of mind and body. So much so, that I didn't notice that this thing that had afflicted me for seven weeks was gone.

It tortured me. It laughed at me when I was sobbing on the edge of my bed for hours a night for weeks on end. It heckled me when I took my medicine for it every morning, knowing nothing would help. It made me self-conscious and afraid to leave my home, for fear that it would start. And then not stop.

It took seven long weeks from me. Seven weeks of sleep. Seven weeks of enjoying my pregnancy. Seven weeks of peace of mind. It took seven weeks of safe driving and the ability to maintain focus on a conversation or TV show. It took seven weeks of enjoying movies, bubble baths, dining out. Seven weeks of enjoying my life.

I have scars- both physical and emotional.

I scratched my skin until I bled. I have scars from scratching all over my body, from my feet to my legs, to my hands, arms, and shoulders. I have a scar shaped like a long line on my stomach from where I used my engagement ring to scratch out of total desperation.

I feel no joy or relaxation from getting my back scratched. I feel afraid when I have an itch- I'm afraid that the itch will grow, that it will not stop.

I am very seriously traumatized from the cholestasis. I am so, so, so thankful it went away, but I am nowhere near past it yet.

And part of me feels like I'm being dramatic. Sure, I was itchy for a few weeks, but I got a sweet baby boy out of it, right?

But I feel like seven weeks of emotional breakdowns- sobbing in the shower, while driving, while eating, while trying to sleep- warrants a little drama. Seven weeks of literally outright begging my OB to let me just have this baby to make it stop. Actually, I only begged for four weeks. I guess I kind of gave up for the last three. I knew the OB wasn't going to help me. I knew I was stuck in this constant state of breakdowns until either 37 Weeks or Little Man showed signs of distress. And I knew there was nothing I could do or say or plead that would change it.

It's been fourteen-and-a-half weeks since Baby Boy was born; twenty-one weeks since I was diagnosed with cholestasis; twenty-two weeks since I first felt the effects.

But I'm still terrified every time I get the smallest itch.

September 6, 2012

For someone who's historically been so good with dates, I totally flubbed up on one recently.

This past Sunday, September 6, was the third anniversary of us closing on our house.

April 28, 2012

So many parts of our lives have changed in the time we've been in this home.

June 9, 2012

We've seen both of Hubs' brothers and my sister get married.

July 1, 2012

We've become an aunt and uncle, respectively.

August 9, 2012

We've traveled to Chicago for concerts and visiting with friends, 

August 16, 2012

to south Florida for Christmas with my family, 

August 19, 2012

to Destin for fun beach trips with great friends,

August 26, 2012

to Hawaii with hubs' family,

First wedding anniversary, September 10, 2012

and to Italy, Greece, and Turkey on a Disney cruise

Cutting down my first real Christmas tree, December1, 2012

so we could start the next chapter of our lives:

Snow, February 2014

We became parents to the most wonderful little ball of screams and giggles, our tiny miracle.

Two Month Old Brownies.

Two months. Lots of pictures.

He's gotten slightly better at posing. The fact that he can smile helps a lot!

Little Man has grown a lot in the two months he's been in the outside world. Well, not in terms of poundage or anything, but in terms of mental faculties. This little boy has been able to roll from his tummy onto his back since he was six-and-a-half weeks old (he's now almost 10 weeks old)!

Such an over-achiever.

He survived Mommie's 27th birthday at Macaroni Grill, and only resorted to tears when he realized that not all of the attention was on him.

He's overcome with excitement

He survived his first pool day, when Mommie and Daddy hung out with friends, then the girls went off to dinner- without babies. I suppose this is a touch misleading. The child did not actually get in the water. He actually didn't even see the water. He's still infinitely too small for any type of swim diaper, so he and Daddy stayed inside and hung out with the other people who didn't want to swim. Don't you fret, though, he will be getting in a pool sometime soon- even if it finally happens at the beach in October.

The men with the babies

The women without the babies (except for Abby). Also to note: 

there are two babies in this picture because Alyssa is pregnant!

He also survived his first day of day care! He wasn't sure at first if it was something he was interested in trying. He's doing so well there, and his teachers tell me every day when I pick him up how he's such a sweet and happy baby.

I'd like to meet this baby.

He stares skeptically on his first day. 

The baby I see is fussy and cries and only finally falls asleep between 11pm and midnight, and has started waking up- at least once through the night- when he used to sleep through the night. We're getting better at figuring him out though. It's like every week we have a new baby who wants something new and we need to relearn him. It's becoming less frustrating now that I know this, though.

"Why are you taking pictures of me instead of making me happy?"

Just look at that pouty lip.

Hanging with Puppy immediately after second lunch.

Anyways, he is doing well at day care, and I'm doing alright with handling it. I still can't drop him off there though. I just can't. The thought of it makes me weepy. I'd much rather go pick him up so I can have him the rest of the night!

Just the cutest photo subjects around.

On the 15th of August, my mom finally made her big move to Huntsville. She drove up with a car-full of belongings and that's all she has. My grandma came up with her to help with the drive and to meet Babykins. My mom started a new job on the 17th and she's enjoying it, and my grandma flew back down home after a week of cuddling and playing with Babyface.

He met both of his Great Grandmothers in August! Grandma Doris and GG:

I tried to get a photo with him. Below is typical:

But we snuck one in when he wasn't paying attention:

My sleepy Brownie.

Tummy time!

Puppy has really been enjoying Baby. At first she was probably like, "Why did you bring this small loud thing here? We never get any sleep anymore." But now she's more like, "Bring me the small loud thing. I want to sniff its nether regions." She's been great with him, always wanting to be near him and she likes to try to sneak in some kisses. She and Daddy can often be found on the nursery floor napping while Hugo gets his last meal for the night.

But she's not afraid or ashamed to beg for attention when Little Man is asleep.

"Play with me. Now."

Fin.