How lonely I would be...

I want to always remember how special Dagny has been to me during this time in the Navy. She is my buddy. I want to remember how most nights, as tired as I am, I prefer it when she ventures into my bed. I want to remember how much my heart aches when she is away with my parents because of work and I come home to an empty, quiet house. How much she keeps the hole in my heart, from Mark being away, feel full. I want to remember how much fun it has been having one child, a girl, to be girly with and silly with, to dress up, to be sweet and gentle with. To spend 99% of my time solely with her. She is so special to me and I can tell how special I am to her. What we've had is something I will never forget and cherish always. People say they can't imagine doing what we do, how hard it must be, or they don't know how I do it alone. I'll be the first to admit that being away from Mark is hard, but I don't really remember how hard its been to have Dagny on my own. Which means that even during her tough days, it wasn't that hard. All I can think about is how much she made me laugh, or how sweet it is to have her sleeping heavily on my chest at the end of a day. Sure there have been days when wine was necessary by 3pm, but I don't remember why. I just remember how much fun its been to have Dagny, all by myself most days. I want to remember how she says "oh mama" for no reason at all. Or how she still puts both her hands on my cheeks like she did when she was a baby. Or how when something hurts or is sad or scary, mama turns into mommy. How she loves to dance, march, sing, run, yell. But also sit in my lap all morning long talking to me or her animals she's lined up. She is changing before my eyes into a little girl. It is the greatest joy to watch her grow. She is my little walking parrot, repeating everything I say and even stringing little sentences together. I hope so many things for her and her little heart. But I also hope I'll never forget how special this time has been with her. With all of that said, I'm laying here, feeling sweet little kicks in my belly and hoping for my next baby's sake that they're as awesome as Dagny. And to think all I ever wanted was a boy first.

Poor Bird

At what point are wild children ill behaved children? I hosted a party recently that a bunch of friends from work came to. Within minutes of the arrival of a family with kids, my little tiny house was turned into a jungle gym. My couch was a fort and my closets were prime hiding spots. If you have been to my house you'd know its adorned with treasures. Antique hand me downs from my parents, Damariscotta pottery and pieces I like to describe as investments make up most of it. A few pieces are even a little too rickety for Mark's taste. Suddenly, I found myself having a very hard time enjoying the party because my house was being destroyed, and the volume had increased ten fold. I'm not sure if it was that I kept reminding myself to relax and accept that this is what life with children looks like, or the fact that I kept drinking margaritas, but I didn't say anything. Don't get me wrong, I love children. I especially love well behaved, polite, and respectful children. I also understand that my curated house will have to undergo some changes as Dagny gets older and our family grows. 

My sister and I have had a number of conversations about raising children and comparing the different parenting types. Our biggest examples are comparing our families with our cousins. Now that we are all adults its fun to talk about the different methods and "scary aunts" from our childhood. My parents were always the strictest of the families. We knew that at 5:00pm it was wine time and "grown-up" time. The five of us would disappear and entertain ourselves elsewhere. We also knew that when one of the parents had to come tell us to settle down, that meant business and we obeyed. Most of my cousins were terrified of my parents. However, my parents were raising five children in an Inn that was constantly full of inn guests trying to enjoy the peace and quiet of the East Coast. We had to understand boundaries and be well behaved. I love that at a young age, we knew how to find pleasure in talking to older couples staying at the Inn. We knew that there was a time for quiet. When the Inn guests left for the season, we could be wild and make the Inn ours. The Bernets were always a little more on the wild and ridiculous side. Today, they are the funnest people to be around because they are all hilariously silly and they make everyone around them laugh. While some of their behavior growing up never would of flown in our house, its clear that a little wild and silly is okay. I don't want to be the "scary mom," but I can already tell I have a lot of my mom in me when it comes to acceptable behavior.  It makes a huge difference when your children are guests in someone else's home. The behavior in your home can be different than the behavior in someone else's. I want my kids to be well behaved. I also want them to be silly and wild like the Bernets. I want them to know love like those kids do from their parents and I want them to make Mark and I laugh as much as they make their parents laugh.

So at what point is wild ill behaved? Well, when my dollhouse stairs are ripped off and this poor little birds legs are bent back just because, I draw the line. I can look past the messes and noise. Those are easy fixes and apart of the experience. When things are broken because of misbehavior, that is harder for me to look past. The fact is my house is tiny. There really isn't somewhere for kids to disappear and play. We also had two babies here that were on and off sleeping in rooms that could of been played in. So the chaos seemed to be where the adults were trying to eat and drink. It just got me thinking about wild children and how well my parents taught us when wild was not okay. 

A Messy Weekend, a Terrible Mama

Dagny has been sick for about a week and a half now. It started with red puffy eyes that would be crusted shut when she woke up. A runny and congested nose came shortly after. Bulb suctioning and saline is something we've gotten used to this winter. At her routine check up last week the Doc said her cold could last another two weeks, reassured me that a baby has an average of 7 colds in their first year, and that she could still get her shots. He also said her cold was in her chest now. Bringing on the cough. We managed the next couple days. That is until Thursday when my nanny texted me that Dags had already had three dirty diapers. Sorry if it's TMI, but this is where it gets messy. For a typical 6 month baby that's no big deal, but Dagny has been a once a weeker if not longer since the day she was born. I know, lucky me. I wasn't worried, the nanny did admit to feeding her every two hours the day before which is about twice as much as Dags usually eats. So naturally I attributed it to that. We decided to head to Santa Rosa to spend the weekend with my family. Dagny continued to have blow out after blow out. I stopped blaming it on the day of over feeding, but started to think it was a tooth coming in or the fact that I had introduced solids the week before. Who knows. In any case I didn't complain because I've been so lucky the last 6 months. The color and consistency started to change too, but that didn't stop us from spending an entire day at seaside. It was a beautiful day. Brunch in the morning, in the sun and the green the rest of the day, in the sun. Mary Kate and I called it a day about the same time I noticed Dag's pink cheeks. By the time we were back at Mary Kate's house, Dagny had a full blown sunburn. This is where I'm a terrible mama part 1. I like to think it wasn't all my fault, but ultimately I'm responsible. I forgot her sun hat and haven't started putting sunscreen on her. The doctor even told me babies now a days don't get enough sunlight... I also left her asleep in her stroller in the shade when Mary Kate and I went to walk around the shops baby free. By the time I came back she was awake and being passed around. No one seemed to know what the matter was with her, but if you checked her diaper you would of seen she was sitting in poop for who knows how long. Still in the sun we stayed because once her diaper was clean she was having a blast. So my fault again. The burn didn't seem to bother her, but it kept getting pinker. That night was rough, but its tough to say if it was the burn or her uncontrollable bottom. Probably both. It wasn't until the morning that Dagny really seemed off. She all of a sudden was inconsolable and wiggling out of control. She seemed very uncomfortable and out of character. Mk got a bath ready and I laid her on her belly where she immediately went into the the fetal position. I took off her diaper and low and behold there was a very angry red bottom and hooha. My poor baby. Terrible mama part 2. It came out of nowhere, I would of seen it sooner seeing how I had changed her diaper 1 billion times in the last two days. But how could it not of occurred to me to start putting something on that skin to protect it with how often she was going! Her diaper bag is always stocked with cream, I just never thought to use it...Woe is Dagny. Sunburnt, congested, coughing, sensitive raw nose, upset tummy and now an angry bottom. A cooling bath helped calm her down. She rested naked in the towel on my chest for awhile. She didn't want to leave my arms and seemed exhausted. That day was long. Every time Dagny peed it seemed like she had fire ants in her pants. When I went to change her she acted as if I was putting them there. I came back to Pensacola because I was starting to feel sick and wondered if I was going to need to take this baby to the doctor. Since we've been home she's been naked and seems to be more comfortable. I'm trying to let that bottom air out. Mark thinks I might as well potty train her now. I told him he could come right home and do that. I've stopped using wipes and she's gotten a lot of baths. I'm on my third load of soiled towel laundry. So it's been messy. I like to think she's had a viral infection and it's finally moved down and is working its way out of her system. If it goes on much longer I'll take her to the doctor. I do feel terrible, but I don't really think I'm a terrible mama. I've just learned a valuable lesson or two the hard way. Number one being don't have too many mimosas on a sunny day unless you've brought a sun hat for your baby.

Nesting

A 38 week belly

Let's just say the nesting kicked in, and I got a little surge of energy. I installed a shelf and mirror all by myself...into dry wall. It was tough, heavy, and is probably crooked. Last minute purchases arrived and swaddles were dip-dyed. Art still isn't framed, but I have a hard time wanting to spend money on those things right now. The far window still needs curtains that I'm being very fickle about. Hence the lack of photos of that wall. If only I had two more matching lace panels. Baby Bloom's book collection is lacking, but we will build that over time. I was a slow starter in that department too. But don't ask Mary Kate, she'll tell you I didn't learn the alphabet till I was 12. 

The house has been deep cleaned three times now. I'm over that and the dog hair. I did about 100 loads of laundry last week. I refolded all of the extra linen in my house and tucked them away nicely into closets. Baby Blooms clothes are cleaned, folded, and organized. I am in major need of Tea Tree Oil and Summer House candles to make this place sparkle and smell nice before she comes. If you haven't cleaned with this Tea Tree oil, you probably don't like to clean. A last minute run needs to involve new shower curtain liners, dishwasher detergent, and trash bags. Its the small things I don't feel like buying, but a clean and fresh house to come home to will be the best. I've started filling my fridge with things I know Mark and our families would eat. Living alone usually means a very empty fridge. The cinnamon rolls are waiting, and I am being very good not to eat them. Its almost as much torture as waiting for this baby. My gas tank remains full because I am notorious for driving it till it says 1 mile left. I finally packed my hospital bag last week when I convinced myself I was in labor. I since then realized the bag only contained items for myself and none for Baby Bloom. I feel like baby prep is done and I am just waiting now.

Mark and I planned out every good case scenario for the timing of this birth. All worked around his games and travel schedule so that he makes it in time and doesn't miss a single game. He hopes for September 7th, I hope for tomorrow. My sister reminded me that I need to pray and ultimately this baby is coming when God plans for her to. I pray for peace because I am truly over thinking the timing and if Mark will be there. There isn't a plan Mark and I could make for her arrival that is better than God's. We have already been blessed with the timing of this pregnancy. This season seems to have flown by with great excitement and anticipation for our new family. It is also very hard to feel alone with Mark being gone while I have our little baby growing inside of me. I know that whenever she comes, Mark and I will feel the most blessed! 

So here's to the final stretch. I am going to rest.