Two Months with Maggie

She is my "little sweetheart," dad's "big girl," and Henry's "baby."

Last Thursday marked two months since Maggie has been here with our family. It feels like she has been with us forever. Henry still adores her and hugs and kisses her several times throughout the day. He loves to lay his head on hers, touch her face, and give her kisses. And he never, ever hits her. He is so good about keeping his anger directed towards anyone but her.

Maggie is a happy baby girl, giving us lots of coos and smiles. I love her noises and her smiles. She is looking more and more like a Holmes girl in a Gibson body. She has my long fingers and toes and is measuring in the 99th percentile for height and 54th percentile for weight. Maggie is long and lean. She is as bald as can be with the exception of her "old man hair" which is dark in color. Her hair goes from ear to ear in the back of her head. Her dark, blue eyes remind me of Henry's at this stage and her eye lashes are dark. We love the dimple in her chin and anticipate dimpled chins be a defining mark of our family. So far we all have one.

Maggie is a really good baby. And by good I mean good at sleeping. We are usually getting a five to six hour stretch between feedings at night, giving me some much needed sleep. I'm a wreck with little sleep and am so grateful for how well she is sleeping at night. We even had a seven hour stretch one night. Maggie is also good when she is awake. She's content to lay on her play mat or in her swing and gracefully takes brother's physical affection, even when it becomes a little rough.

We are so grateful for her spirit in our home and the added measure of love and joy she brings with her.

A Gift

Henry is at a difficult stage right now. Our mornings usually consist of a tantrum. So do our afternoons. He cries, throws himself on the floor, looks at me, and keeps crying. I ask what he wants and when I don't get an answer, I ignore him. After awhile, he usually finds and snuggles with his blanket, talks (in jibberish) with his happy tone of voice, and moves on with his morning (or afternoon).

I've been wondering what is wrong with him, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with us. Not just because of the tantrums, but in general: something seems different. Maybe I'm too busy worrying about why he isn't talking (in English) as much as he should be. Is he feeling like I don't love him? He has so much fun with dad every single day--why not with me? What happened to my happy, easy-going, content baby? What has happened with our relationship?

Last night I said to Brendon, "Is it bad that I miss my 15-month-old Henry?" Within a couple hours of saying that, I read this article ("A View of Birth from an Infertile Womb"), written by a friend in my book club group.

Now I know.

Love him more. Worry less. Be more grateful for him, as he is. 

I know not everything is going to be easy and "perfect" after this spark of much-needed inspiration. I know the tantrum will most likely come tomorrow morning...and probably in the afternoon, too. But it is more important for me to love that little boy than to worry about how he talks or wish he was something he isn't or worry what others think of me or him. Find the positive moments throughout the day and dwell on those. Find opportunities to express my love with time and affection.

After all, "(he is) a gift so special it would never be repeated or imitated. A miraculous gift."

Two Months with Dad

We haven't exactly had a solid two months with dad home, but looking back on life since Maggie sure feels like dad was home a lot to help ease the transition to our new life. I've already mentioned that Brendon has been a saint--a laundry-folding, babysitting, helping hand saint--and Henry would agree that life with dad at home is grande.

Brendon had some interviews and was out of town here and there and he did an ER rotation during the past two months, but his schedule has allowed me to sleep as needed and Henry to have the playmate he needs so badly. We love dad beyond words.

During our time with dad, we mostly stayed cooped up inside playing with toys, eating dinner together, watching movies, and enjoying "Sister." Despite being cooped up most of the time, Dad & Henry made an outing for Henry's first time playing in the snow. Henry now loves to eat snow, even when there is only a small amount on the grass, making it extra clean. Henry eats dirt, though, so he could care less. Dad & Henry also enjoyed sledding together.

We ventured outside to go to Chuck E Cheese one day. Henry rode on one ride. We set him inside a car and, despite the fun he seemed to have, he didn't care to do it again. We spent the rest of the time trying to convince him to ride this or play that. He thought the dragon ride was a real dragon (we've been watching "How to Train Your Dragon" these days). When I showed him that the dragon was nice by petting him, Henry reached out his hand, touched the dragon, quickly retracted his hand, and hugged me tightly. He mostly enjoyed watching all the kids play on the rides. Dad played basketball to use up the tokens we cashed in and we all left happy with a crazy straw and two packages of smarties.

Now we are back to real life. Dad works from 7 am to 5:30 pm and we are happily staying inside (at least I am), playing with toys and friends to keep us busy. Henry has been a sleeping champ yesterday and today, making both mom and Henry happy people.

Margaret Sue

Margaret. My great grandmother, my dad's grandmother, and my grandpa's mom. I've always felt a connection with her. She passed away when I was a baby, but I remember looking at my mom's wedding album at four years old, finding Grandma "Toots" (as in "tootsy") and pointing to her. I'm pretty sure she is one of my guardian angels. It's my only explanation for feeling a bond to her when I really have no memory of her. Before we found out Henry was a boy, we had Margaret picked for our little girl's name. We are glad our little Maggie bares her name.

Margaret was born in Switzerland and left with her mom and sister to America when she was a teenager. They traveled by boat to America, then by train to Utah and eventually ended up in California. My dad recalls her as a stern but loving grandmother who welcomed her grandchildren with root beer floats, gave amazing head scratches, and never yelled at or told on him (when he and his twin did things that would have gotten his parents upset with them). She was a strong woman who raised her children well and made many sacrifices for her posterity.

Sue. My mother. Where to begin...I've been trying to write this section for over a week now, and nothing seems to be good enough.

I've always had a great relationship with my mom. Always. She's been a best friend throughout my life. I hope I can have the same relationship with my children that she has with each of her kids. She is continually teaching me through her words and actions about being thoughtful, going the extra mile to help others, and how to sponge bath a newborn, among a million other things.

As a child I remember playing games together, cooking together, and talking about any and everything. Now we continue to play games together, cook together, and talk. I love going to her house and I always hate to leave it. Sitting and chatting (about "nothing," my dad would say) is my favorite thing to do with her. She is always available to listen or spend time with me and my children. Like Grandma "Toots," she is a strong woman who raised her children well and is willing to make sacrifices for her family. My mom would do anything for anybody. In one word, she is selfless.

Maggie Sue has great women in her life to look up to. And I hope as she learns about her great-great grandma and grandma that she will come to love and revere them both the way I do.

One Month

We've already had one full month with little Maggie Sue, better known as "sister." She is growing bigger every day and we can't seem to slow it down--but we're grateful that growth means a healthy baby. Maggie is a great eater, a descent sleeper (an excellent sleeper when lying right next to mom or dad), and a content baby. Being the happy child she is (along with Henry's naps and Brendon working a lot of night shifts at the ER), the transition to life with two children has gone much better than expected. We couldn't be more grateful she is here, healthy, and happy.

Pictures never do her justice, but here is Maggie's first month. (And like I knew I would, I have failed to take even half of the number of photos I did with my first child. It doesn't mean I love you any less, little Maggie.)

Recap of the hospital: we all adore her.

Leaving the hospital

The newborn pose 

(I know my babies are no longer new when they quit tucking their feet & 

wrapping their arms by their head)

Christmas photos

One month old

First Dose of Our Christmas

Just thought I would post a few pictures and videos for your enjoyment!

Good Reads

With interview season under way, I have been able to do some reading in my spare time and on flights. Here are some recent good reads.

My favorite was The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. A quick look at the wikipedia page for HeLa cells will tell you how important they have been to scientific research. The author explains that "more than 60,000 scientific articles had been published about research done on HeLa, and that number was increasing steadily at a rate of more than 300 papers each month." But more than that, this book delves into Henrietta's family history, with all of the racial and ethical issues that surround the use of her cells. If you are intrigued by the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, then this book is for you.

This was the fastest I have ever read a 250 page book. It took me only two days because I had a lot of travel time and I couldn't put it down. The combination of politics and sport, as well as the determination of Nelson Mandela make this gripping from start to finish. It's a shocking wake-up call to institutionalized racism that lasted until the 90's. Apartheid is such an important part of world history that it should be taught to every child worldwide.

This was a book on my father-in-laws shelf written by a man who has a PhD in physics from M.I.T. and has spent a good portion of his life studying the Torah and Talmud as well as other texts of Judaism. He reconciles the accounts of the creation with scientific evidence in as simple of terms as possible. By analyzing modern evidence and the context of biblical translations, he brings both sides into congruence. It got a little repetitive at times, but the principles will stick with me forever.