These Days

These days I spend a lot of time with my little ones. It constantly amazes me it is the really simple things they do, not the big milestones, that make me the happiest. To show you what I mean, here are ten vignette's that just made my day of late.

1. I love feeling Miss K's sleep smiles when I hold her cheek to cheek while she is snoozing.

2. I love that Claire's bedtime ritual includes tick-o's (tickles) and that in addition to Dave and I tickling her she likes to order Dave to "tick-o Mommy" and me to "tick-o Daddy".

3. I love that the day after we brought Kennedy home from the hospital that Claire dubbed her "Princess Fiona" from Shrek and then proclaimed herself "Princess Cinderella".

4. I love that Claire has started laughing when she hears adults laugh, even when I know that there is no way she understands or was even listening to the content of the joke.

5. I love that Claire looks forward to the "naked girl run" each night when she dashes around the house chanting "naked gurl, naked gurl", in the buff, right after her bath.

6. I love it that my favorite things about Kennedy are not that she sleeps well (which she does) and eats well (which she does, too). It just makes me feel like a get her a little more than that.

7. I love that Claire calls Santa, "Satan", Kookaburras, "Cookie Birds", birthday cake, "happy cake" (because what can be more happy than cake?) and that her favorite phrase is "moob it", move it from Madagascar 2.

8. I love that Baby K has rolls (plural, baby!) on her legs, arms and has a robust little belly. It makes me feel so proud that I helped her create her little curves. Having never experienced this with Miss Claire who was such a skinny little wee, I am taking great satisfaction in it.

9. I love that the other day when I thought Claire was attempting to steal Baby K's paci from her in the car that she was actually holding hands with her. 

10. Finally, I love that there is this brief interlude post-nap when the girls are perfectly in sync-no one needs a diaper change, no one needs to eat or sleep, no one needs to be entertained and the three Thatcher ladies can just enjoy one another's company.

Natural Woman

One week ago yesterday my mom, who had been staying with us and taking care of us (not big enough words for all that she did for Dave, Claire, Miss Kennedy and me) for three and a half weeks, left to go home. I have survived and even managed to eat well thanks to some amazing women who have brought dinner to us almost every night and some Indian restaurant leftovers that just keep giving and giving. After a week of doing it alone, I have some reflections. First, I miss my mom. It was so nice to have her company and calm assurance around every day. She makes me feel like a "natural woman"--capable, competent, composed, and comfortable being a mom. When she is gone I have to remind myself of it, sometimes even in a "I am capable, competent, composed, and comfortable being a mom" mantra which replaces the "Am I crazy? What the heck am I doing?" mantra that I am prone to mutter to myself.

Second, a good mom is still helpful even when she is not around. I feel that just enough of her good mothering pixie dust rubbed off on me in the past few weeks that somehow I have managed through the last eight days. She left me know in countless little ways that I could do this on my own, from her comforting words of confidence in me, Dave and Claire to pointing out good mothering in me when she saw it. Her confidence in me lingers and wraps me in the hope that I can be better--more compassionate, more giving, more loving.

Third, a good mom teaches lessons that last. When I am at my wit's end, feeling impatient with Claire, or myself, I wonder what my mom would do and without fail I am able to redirect myself to some better path. She has always chosen patience over intolerance, calmness over sass, looks of praise over distance and consistency overs swats. I remember her mothering and it gives me a wonderful textbook to go by. I remember that her mothering made me feel important, precious and one-of-a-kind and I want my daughters to feel the same way. I am so grateful for the peace of mind she gives and has given me. Today, for some reason, I just know that my mothering cup runneth over.

BABY

Those EYES.

That SKIN.

That SMELL.

That SERENITY.

That PEACE.

FAMILY.

Kennedy Eva Thatcher

Ms. Kennedy Eva Thatcher finally arrived on Friday morning at 9:58am weighing a whopping nine pounds three ounces (I know I pushed her out) and measuring a shrimpy 19 and 3/4 inches (compared with big sis who was almost two inches longer). She has black hair and blue eyes and lovely olive skin at least for now. Yes, she has not left my side yet so I know that she is mine and was not accidentally swapped at birth. I just hope her striking coloring sticks.

The Story:

Since Kennedy's due date was past and the ultrasound indicated that she was probably between nine and ten pounds, on top of the fact that I had been dilated to over a six for two weeks, the doctor did not want to wait any longer for her to be born of her own volition. We tried everything, including a brisk four mile walk on Christmas, to get her to come on her own. Ultimately, this girl didn't budge.

On Friday morning the doctor brought me in to break my water. He broke my water at 8am and my mom, Dave and I waited for the contractions to start. The doctor and nurse left the room and the nurse agreed to come back after she had finished her paperwork and the doctor after a couple of hours, unless summoned. Around 8:50am my contractions started in earnest. It was actually really scary. They were so powerful and coming so quickly that it took Dave and me a minute to wrap our minds around the fact that she was coming and coming soon. I couldn't remember even how to breathe period, much less any of the breathing techniques we had practiced. Dave pulled out his iPhone to look up some of the techniques and my mom, who was cool as a cucumber from the start, really helped focus Dave and me. I had decided not to do the epidural again, but honestly, I had doubts about whether I could make it because the contractions were so brutal. I couldn't gauge how bad they were in comparison to the final stages with Claire and had no idea how long I would have to endure. The doctor was at his office and the nurse was gone baby gone and when I started feeling a lot of lower back pressure about 45 minutes later, Dave went and got the nurse to check me.

The nurse came in pretty laxidasically to check me. She checked me and Ms. Kennedy was already starting to crown. She told me not to push and rushed to get the doctor who was there in a few minutes. He arrived and I started pushing. After four pushes my slippery little baby was in my arms. She was perfect from the start. So peaceful, so lovable, so mine.

The hospital, unlike in NY, where they swept Claire away almost instantaneously, left her with me in the room the entire time. They don't even have a nursery, so we were side by side until I left the hospital yesterday afternoon. Since we arrived home she has thrived even more than at the hospital. She came home to a full house of greeters. My grandma, mom, three of my brothers, three nieces, one sister-in-law, four dogs and even and ex-sister in law were all here to welcome her to the world. It was wonderful to have them here for the birth and for Kennedy to get to meet so many people who love her so soon.

The Name:

As some of you may know Dave and I have been debating on a name for months. Since we really nailed it with Claire so we felt a lot of pressure. Nothing really sat right with us and when we arrived at the hospital we still had a "stupor of thought". Our nurse, Kita, who was with us all day turned out to be this really incredible lady and suggested her daughter's name, Kennedy. Despite asking around for months, scouring baby books, facebook friends of friends lists, credit lists from the movies, and yes even our very own phone directories, the name Kennedy never even crossed our minds. We both liked it instantly and put it on our name list but didn't think much more about it than that.

The next day the deliberations continued, under pressure by the hospital staff to complete the birth certificate paperwork before we could be checked out. On a side note, I do not recommend this naming approach to anyone. Dave admitted during our discussions that on the way to the hospital that morning he felt pretty strongly that her name should be Kennedy. I was less convinced but we decided to pray about the name Kennedy and one other name (that I will keep in my heart for the next baby). I felt really clearly immediately after the prayer that her name was indeed Kennedy.

We also love that Kennedy and Thatcher both are names of very influential leaders and think the trait of leadership may just swim in her veins.

Eva was easier. We were introduced to this name a few months ago when our niece Brooklyn was born. Eva is Brooklyn's middle name and Dave's great grandmother's name, Agatha Eva Katharine Reeder. Melissa, Brooklyn's mom, wrote a great tribute to her on her blog and without permission (sorry Melissa, don't ask, repent later has always been my motto) I will share it here:

"Eva was an extraordinary woman, but one virtue in particular that she magnified is the reason we wanted our daughter to carry her name. It is a story of the value of attitude. Grandma Eva raised her family during the depression, when even the sturdiest of supplies was waning. However, Grandpa Lynn (Dave's grandfather) recalled that the only thing that stood as a reminder to him that things were hard was that his overalls had patches on them. Although they were a full house on a less than meager income, their home was full of laughter and light - and in his memory things were never that bad. Grandpa Lynn eventually married a woman who came from a very high social class and a lot of money. Her description of the same years were grey and dismal. She, like the majority of the population who lived through it, described them of some of the hardest times in her life. The lack of what they had determined everyone's outlook - she recalls the years as full of endless struggles.

This lesson is one that I cherish. One mother's attitude was able to alter the whole state of being in her home at a time when the nation as a whole was struggling. I'm sure it was not easy nor comfortable for her - but her outlook on life made it easier for everyone else, and the situation was then supplemented and sustained on the rich things she could offer: family, laughter, love, and God."

Thanks for the inspiration Brent and Melissa, we are so happy that our girls, born in the same year, will always be tied together by the special bond of sharing a name.

Anyway, Kennedy Eva Thatcher, we welcome you to our family and love that you have finally arrived.

As to Ms. Claire and how she is feeling about the event, I think this photo explains it all.

All I Want for Christmas is You...

My due date has come and gone, despite the fact that the baby counter widget is now adding a day for each day that I am overdue, and still no baby. I thought for sure that I would have her in my arms by now, particularly since my doctor has been telling me for three weeks that she was coming at any moment. He offered to induce me on Monday, but I declined. I just kept picturing her saying goodbye to everyone in Heaven and then being ripped from their arms when the Pitocin started to drip. 

I want her to come on her own, just tonight, or even tomorrow would be fine. I need to meet her now and I know if I wait much longer any carefully avoided stretch marks could start popping out everywhere. I need your secrets--time tested or even vodooish--preferably something that works within 24 hours. Give me what you have got oh wise friends let's bring this baby home, or just keep me in your prayers over the holiday.

Forced Nesting?

"The nesting instinct is the name given to the distinctive urge to clean, tidy, and organize that occurs during pregnancy. One of the many pregnancy symptoms that you will experience, the nesting instinct generally kicks in around the fifth month of pregnancy, however it can also occur much earlier or much later. Many women acutely experience the nesting instinct in the final days of their pregnancy, and this can often be a sign that labor and delivery is close at hand."

But then again, what if this "primal" instinct never kicks in? What if 16 days out, I still haven't cleaned my house, made a list of baby names, or even packed my hospital bag? Females all over the animal kingdom apparently have this urge--a burst of energy to help them prepare for the imminent birth of their child, but somehow it skipped me.

So this past week, I set out on a plan to force "nesting". I made elaborate lists of things that I must accomplish and set aside time for shopping, cleaning and organizing. Claire even complied with my fastidious plan. I thought the instinct would set in after my list was made and chores began, but dear readers, it never did. My "forced nesting" efforts did induce a labor of sort, not the birthing kind, but the "I'm at the point of exhaustion and can't move another step" kind.

I wonder how many women really experience this "burst of energy" or if most are like me--they just know they have to get things done before the baby arrives or it will never happen. At the end of the week even despite my reluctant nesting, I did feel a sense control and accomplishment and guess what, my new baby's drawers are organized.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changing

My step dad told me once that change typically happens in bursts--very quickly--rather than gradually like most people think. I've thought about that a lot and have since seen some dramatic bursts of change in my life and others lives. Its amazing to think that someone can wake up one morning and really commit to being different and stick with it. Change takes real power, real dedication.

The other night I thought about this again when Dave and I went with some friends to the Jewel concert. I've always liked Jewel. I like that she writes her own music and lyrics. I like that she seems somewhat unchanged by her stardom and I like that she has never fixed her teeth. Anyway, it was a great concert. She played for several hours, just her on the stage with a guitar. She told the story of the song "Hands", which she wrote when she was 18 years old, homeless and really having a difficult year physically and emotionally. She said she has started stealing from stores and was justifying it to herself somehow, like the establishment owed it to her. Then, one day, she saw a sun dress she wanted and thought about stealing it, but then changed her mind. She decided she didn't want to be "that person".

She went on to write "Hands" and so many other songs in her 18th year--songs that she later built her career on. It is amazing how pivotal that year was for her. It was the worst year of her life but the catalyst for so much rapid change.

I guess this is on my mind right now, because things seem pretty bleak in the world right now. We really do need change and rapid change and the crazy thing is despite it all, I am an optimist and think that it could actually happen. We could wake up one morning and be different--more fiscally responsible, more conscious of others, more supportive of people with different backgrounds and beliefs, more willing to be an example. Or in the words of Jewel:

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear

My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken