One Month Down. Eleven To Go.

I am openly admitting that I am counting down the days until Pippa turns one.  It doesn't take a genius to see that I am out of my element when it comes to caring for a baby.  Like a fish out of the water, I have no idea what I'm doing... Even with the experience of an older child under my belt.  I felt so much more comfortable with Motherhood once Ro turned one.  Easier to manage.  Not too defiant.  Somewhat independent.  I finally felt like I had a (slight) grasp on being a mother. 

Lest Pippa thinks I am wishing away her babyhood, I am not.  Mostly I am just wishing away her newborn stage.  Motherhood is constantly teaching me, a lot.  And it hasn't skipped the lesson that I DO NOT like unpredictability.  And newborns are unpredictable.  How many times are you going to wake in the night?  Why are you crying?  Why aren't you sleeping?  Why aren't you awake?  Should I wake you up so you sleep later?  I am sure so many of my readers (all two) are laughing at me right now.  I have a friend that told me she thought babies were easy:  "Babies are so easy.  If they cry, you just figure out why."  Uh-huh, right...  You figure out which of the endless possible reasons is upsetting them.  So easy.

Pippa is a good girl.  As mentioned last post, she likes to snuggle.  Which is sweet for me.  I like to snuggle her (and Ro and Wyatt) too.  So all the anxiety I feel from having a newborn under my supervision is (somewhat) excused.  And as she gets older, she becomes more predictable.  As in she loves to take a bath but hates the post-bath routine.  She cries when she's tired.  She cries when she has a messy diaper (Ro never did...is this because he's a boy?). She usually dislikes her carseat unless the car is moving/driving.  And she loves to be held!

Pippa is still unpredictable when it comes to any sort of routine.  It sure would be nice to have set nap and bed times.  Not only for my sanity but for Ro too.  It gets old fast having to constantly tell Ro, "Just give me a minute, I need to _____ for Pippa first."  Lucky for me, Ro is a patient kid.  He doesn't seem to mind too much that Pippa has taken the majority of my attention.  As my friend reminded me, babies are demanding.  They want whatever they want right now.  

It has been a rough month.  I love Pippa to pieces but it is still soooooo hard!  I can't tell you how many times I've watched a plane take-off (we live very close to SeaTac Airport) and wish I were on the plane escaping to wherever.  Or looked at others with multiple children and wonder to myself, "Why? Why did you agree to having multiple kids?"  

Then there's the guilt.  Ohhhhh, the guilt.  No one ever tells you about the guilt.  I had it with Ro.  Guilt for not holding him enough (or thinking I should).  Guilt for dragging him out in the weather to go running with me.  Guilt for doing something I wanted to do instead of something I thought he'd like to do more.  (What the heck does a baby want to do?!  Another reason I don't feel comfortable with babies.)  Guilt for leaving Wyatt with the baby during his time-off so I could "enjoy" (if you call feeling guilty enjoyable) some time-off.  Guilt for feeding him (breastmilk) from the bottle instead of nursing him.  I still feel all those things with Pippa.  But now I have the added guilt that comes from having a toddler too: Guilt for not spending enough time with him.  Guilt for doing everything for Pippa first, him second.  Guilt for being impatient with him because I am sooooo tired...and anxious.  And guilt that Wyatt comes home from work to chaos while I try and get two kids to bed - and inevitably relying on him to step in - preventing him from winding down and enjoying a quiet evening.  How do people have more than two kids?!

I have had several tell me, "This too shall pass."  I have told it to myself several times (and sang the chorus of the OK Go song).  I know it will.  But it raises the question, am I living in the moment?  Probably not.  Am I going to miss all of this hard stuff?  I really don't know if I will.  I have contradicting emotions.  Part of me loves this time in my life so much, I think my heart is going to burst!  Like when Ro sits by me, while I feed Pippa, and I read him a book.  I am surrounded by the two kids I love the most.  I never want them to grow up.  And then there are the moments that time can't pass fast enough.  Like being tethered to a baby, never really being able to do what I want.  I am not a fan of nursing.  

Wyatt reminded me that being in a family takes sacrifice.  But that sacrifice reaps love.  All three of us - Wyatt, Ro and I - are sacrificing something to share our home with Pippa.  And all three of us love her to pieces.  So as hard as things are now, and as much as I want to be onto the next stage, I am grateful for this moment.  I am grateful for my tiny giant. 

Welcome to the World, Philippa Wilson!

Our tiny giant arrived...seven-weeks ago.  Philippa Wilson born December 29, 2015!  Despite her larger than-average-size - 10lbs 3oz and 22-inches long - delivery wasn't that bad.  Well, it was pretty bad.  What I mean to say is that she was considerate enough to spare me the pain and came quickly.  By the time I was dilated to 10cm, she came out in two pushes.  Maybe, maybe 15-minutes.  I thought she'd arrive on the 30th since I started pushing just after 11:30pm.  Nope.  Apparently she was determined to have her birthday on the 29th since she was born at 11:45pm.  

Labor was as bad as I remembered it to be.  Just like Ro, the epidural didn't work the way it was supposed to, so I was left to feel all the pain.  That is until after Pippa was born and it finally kicked-in.  I was suuuuuper numb when they did all the post-delivery stuff.  I couldn't even walk the 10-feet to the bathroom without a wheelchair.  My guess is that she came so quickly, that things progressed so quickly, the epidural didn't have time to set.  Who knows.  I just know there was NO way I could've taken a nap after I received the epidural... the nap that I've had so many women tell me they enjoyed before they had to push.  Wo is me.

Recovery was bad too.  I was told I had a third-degree tear.  A fourth-degree tear is from one hole to the other.  At least it wasn't that bad.  But it hurt like crazy for two-weeks...and then I woke-up one day and it was like it never happened.  Yay! 

Wyatt's mom, Goombaw, came to stay with us for a week.  I was apprehensive at first - I kind of like going through a new change without extras.  But I'm very glad she was there.  She came the night before I was induced, so Ro had a familiar face when we went to the hospital.  As opposed to a stranger or acquaintance greeting him in the morning (if we were to duck-out in the middle of the night).  And she was a great distraction for Ro when we brought Pippa home and tried to nestle into our new norm.  

Pippa is a sweet baby.  She loves to snuggle, which is the exact opposite from Ro.  Wyatt calls her a dead spider because she rolls into a ball when you pick her up.  (Unlike Ro who liked to make his body straight as an arrow.)  I said I wanted a snuggly baby and got my wish.  It has come back to bite me in the butt though.  She likes to be rocked to sleep (until very recently...but I'm getting ahead of this post) which makes it very stressful when I have a toddler wanting attention too.  Ro has had to take the back-seat a lot lately.

Even so, Ro is a great big brother!  He was a bit apprehensive about Pippa when she arrived.  But quickly warmed-up to her and really likes her now.  He'll give her hugs and pats randomly.  And likes to lay next to her on her blankie.  And announce when she's happy or sad.  And he's a very good helper when I ask him to fetch me something while I'm nursing her.  I am a very lucky mama!  

So, yeah.  We are very glad Philippa is part of our family!  Welcome Miss!

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Cards of Christmas' Past: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014

Roosevelt and Junction

In honor of Ro's second birthday, I thought I'd share the story behind his name.  It is derived from an experience Wyatt had when was 19-years-old and served a mission for our church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Here is the story in Wyatt's words:

Wyatt as a missionary in New York City

I started my two-year mission in September of 1997.  After two-months of Spanish language training at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah, I was flown to the New York New York South Mission.  I remember the excitement of the very early morning travel to the airport and the flight to New York City. It was a clear day as we descended and the circuitry of the city stretched out further than anything I had seen before. There was a haze of pollution that gave the buildings an eerie glow.

We landed at JFK airport and were picked up by the missionaries serving in the mission president’s office.  We were asked to retrieve our flip-charts from our luggage and were loaded into a white passenger van.  As we sped through traffic, at times it seemed on two wheels, on our way to an unknown destination in Queens; we were promised that the New York New York South Mission was the best in the world.  It was explained to us as new missionaries, that to thrive in the New Your New York South Mission it was necessary to be fearless.

We pulled into a busy neighborhood. There were tightly constructed homes that lined the street and the noise of the city intensified as we walked to our destination. We came to a street lined by international stores loudly playing Salsa, Meringue and Bachata music.  Every ten-minutes the 7 Train passed overhead along that street on an elevated track drowning out even the loudest music.  The sights and sounds of the city were exciting but also a little overwhelming for me, a quiet kid from Oregon. 

With flip-charts in hand, we walked to a busy corner under a train stop where a group of missionaries were gathered doing what I learned was called a “Street Sweep.”  The idea and function of a Street Sweep was that a group of missionaries would meet in a busy place and try to speak to as many people that walked by as possible.  As we approached, I noticed that in the middle of the group of missionaries someone had placed a milk crate, and I wondered naively what that might be used for. 

We arrived at the group of missionaries and I was given an explanation of the purpose of the milk crate.  My first action as a missionary in the field was to demonstrate my fearlessness.  I was instructed to stand on the crate and preach the gospel.  So, nervously and with some self-doubt, I stepped onto the milk crate, held up a picture of Joseph Smith, and bore my testimony in Spanish. 15-seconds later when I had exhausted my Spanish vocabulary, I tried stepping down.  However, I was told I was not done yet.  So I stayed on the milk crate and repeated what I knew over and over until it was another missionary’s turn.

The name of that busy street was Roosevelt Avenue.  That experience of stepping-up and facing my fears to testify for something right has been a great lesson in my life.  For this reason we gave our son the name Roosevelt.  So that he too might learn to be fearless in his life.

Ro hanging with his favorite person, Dad.

Ro Turns Two

Ro turned two!!!  Over two-months ago... Yeah, I haven't been so good at my family's current events.  Maybe I should also mention that I'm seven-and-a-half-months pregnant?  That's a whole other post...

Anyway, back to Ro.  He is an awesome kid.  I might be a little bias in my statement.  Though, I don't think by much.  Hey, even the lady at the zoo - who observed Ro for a mere two-minutes - called it like it is (she even mentioned that she sees dozens of kids everyday).  Ro is just an even-tempered, well-behaved, loving, obedient kid.  No credit on my part, he came to us that way.

Ro is growing by leaps and bounds!  Physically, yes.  But more so mentally.  I am blown-away by the things he remembers, knows, does, says.... everything.  He never ceases to amaze me.  Especially the memory bit.  I swear, that kid can see/visit something/somewhere once, and he will remember it for MONTHS to come.  For example, my brother and family visited us way back in June.  They took Ro to Snoqualmie Falls, a tourist attraction 45-minutes from home, while Wyatt and I went on a date.  Fast forward to October when Wyatt, Ro and I went on a leisurely drive and passed-by Snoqualmie Falls.  With ZERO prompting from Wyatt or me, we hear Ro in the backseat say, "Nuh."  (His name for my niece Savannah.)  He remembered the one-time, several months previously, he had visited the falls with my family!  Things like this happen all. the. time.  Maybe every two-year-old is like this?  I have no idea.  Even so, Ro is pretty special to us.

Other interesting things about Ro: he can count to four.  He can "read" the letters A, B, I, L, M, N, O, P, R, S, U, W, and X.  He knows all the colors of the rainbow.  He knows his opposites.  He knows how to jump with two-feet.  He loves to throw rocks.  He loves to run and race.  He loves to play hide and seek (though he's not very good at it).  He loves all modes of transportation: cars, busses, emergency vehicles, motorcycles, trains, and planes.  He loves the song, "Roar" by Katy Perry.  As well as, "Hooked on a Feeling" by Blue Suede.  And..."Shake it Off" by Taylor Swift.  (True to stereotype, he is not that into the music Wyatt and I like.)  He loves receiving "box" in the mail...and getting the mail.  He LOVES our neighbors "Mimi" and "Aum" (Mickey and Selam).  He loves swimming, though he's fickle about floating on his back.  He loves fluffy "sleeping bag" coats.  He's a really good helper (clean-up, making food, laundry, and tinkering in the garage with Wyatt).  And, as of last month, he is potty-trained!!!  Whoot, whoot!

Seriously, the list can go on...as I'm sure you can imagine.  Another thing about Ro is that he is super shy.  Almost debilitating.  He clams-up around new people, which usually consists of hugging my leg very tightly.  We go to story-time at the library every Friday and he still clamps-on to me when we walk in the door.  As well as plants himself in my lap, refusing to budge.  And anytime the librarian asks him to participate at the front of the room (in front of all the kids) he refuses to do so with out me holding his hand.  I think Ro got his shyness from Wyatt.  Though, I'm a pretty shy person too.  However, if you visit Ro on his turf, you will see a totally different kid.  At home, Ro is full of energy - playful, energetic, funny, FUN!

I love this kid so much!  I feel so lucky that I get to spend my days with Ro.  I can't imagine anything I'd want to do more.  And I even miss him when we're apart for longer than a few hours.  In fact, I told Wyatt that I wanted a "day-off" for my birthday and Wyatt was happy to oblige and has suggested the opportunity a few times since.  But truthfully, when it comes down to it, I don't want a day-away from Ro.  I'd miss him too much!  (I used to roll my eyes at women that would say this.  Who am I?!)

Happy (belated) Birthday Sweet Boy!  We sure are happy you're a part of our lives!

Or So You Thought...

Many people comment on how much Ro looks like Wyatt.  I'm not disagreeing...Ro does look like Wyatt.  He looks like grown-up Wyatt.  The two-of-them especially share the same facial expressions - most significantly the furrowed brow.  

However, anyone that knows my family knows the truth.  Ro looks like a Nichols.  He has many of the same features as my brothers.  And (!) he looks like me when I was a young pup.  

Don't believe me?  See for yourself.  

Left: Brittany (c. 18-months);  Right: Roosevelt (23-months)

I'd say Ro is the perfect combo!  We'll see how his looks and resemblances change with time.

Because of Him

Easter has come and gone...but I wanted to share a video that I really liked this season.  It's so hard to keep Christ at the center of all these holidays - these holidays who's existence is because of our Savior.  How has the focus flipped?  I'm not saying that I am opposed to the spring traditions that accompany Easter.  My home was decorated with bunnies, eggs, and flowers too.  I'm just trying to figure out how to put Christ first...  Maybe I'll figure it out over the years.

In the mean time, here is what I believe:  I know my Savior died for me and I know He lives!