11: Brave.

It's easy to have something to be thankful for today.  The soldiers, sailors and servicemembers of our military have my deepest gratitude, respect and admiration today (and all days).

"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave." - Elmer Davis (award winning journalist & Franklin College alumnus)

10: Thursday nights.

Today I'm thankful for Thursday nights.  I've been taking a yoga class on Thursday evenings and it has quickly become something I look forward to all week.  I get 60ish minutes in a warm studio, all to myself, to do something I enjoy.  There are no outside distractions: no cell phones, TVs, kids crying/whining/yelling, dogs barking, horns honking...nada.  It's amazing.

9: The home stretch.

I'm SO thankful today to be in the final stretch before homecoming.  I can't share the details on dates (due to operational security) but I can say Paul will be home SOON!!  The past 6 months have been long and we are so very anxious to be back in Virginia, with our entire family together under one roof!!

8: Lunchtime.

Today I'm thankful for lunchtime -- a time when both kids (generally) are in good moods, ready to eat whatever gourmet meal I set before them (HA!) and we unwind before naptime. 

And every child needs at least a few pictures of a messy spaghetti face, right?  Amelia calls it "sta-tetti" and I die of cuteness.

7: A bright new day!

This morning I feel like a brand new person!!  It's amazing what a solid night of sleep can do for you.  Today I'm grateful for Daylight Savings Time, and the smooth adjustment my kids made to the new time.  Given my under-the-weatherness on Saturday night, I sort of forgot about the extra hour of sleep (probably because I didn't get any) and am happy to report both kids woke up at a semi-normal time for them, under the time change.  So yay for that!  I woke up this morning and it was light outside...and that?  Is wonderful.

I have a feeling it's going to be a great week!

6: The bad days.

Who was next on the list for Mr. Flu?  Me.  I feel horrible for Amelia, only because now I know exactly how she felt on Thursday night while she was sick.  I have never felt so awful in my entire life.

So today, I'm thankful for the bad days, which serve as a reminder that the good days far outnumber the bad.

5: Weekends.

I have always loved the weekends -- a time for resting, relaxing, shopping and spending lots of time together as a family.  Of course, now that we're missing an extremely important part of our family, weekends are a bit bittersweet.  Paul and I are putting together a family bucket list, made up of all sorts of activities we want to enjoy as a family once he's back.  Lucky for us, the holidays will be in full swing when he's home, so there will be many opportunities to get out of the house and enjoy our time together.  And, with over 2 weeks of leave (vacation), it will be lots of "weekend" time when he's home!!

4: Sleep

Last night Amelia had her first run-in with the flu.  It was horrible, awful and I felt so helpless.  We were up all night because she was so uncomfortable and so sick. 

So today, I'm thankful for the sleep we do manage to get.  Both of my babies have been pretty good sleepers for the most part, and I'm thankful because I am NOT good on little sleep.  I need at least 6 hours, preferrably 8, though motherhood had definitely shown me I can function with even less than that!

She is feeling better today, so now we just wait and see who is next on the flu bug's list.

3: The parents.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm extremely close to my parents.  When we're not all under the same roof, it is not uncommon to speak multiple times a day.  Unhealthy?  Some might think that, but not me. 

There's nothing I can do or say (or buy) to thank my parents for their support and love and help over the past several months.  They've kept me sane when both kids have been sick, they've let me enjoy a couple of hours to myself, they've been there to give me a reality check when needed (and I've needed one more than once).  I love the way they love me, but even moreso, I love the way they love my babies.  There's nothing like watching your parents love your children...

These pics are wayyyyy old...taken the day Paul and I left Indiana after we got married and moved to our new home in Virginia.  Lots of tears shed that day!!

2: The husband.

Today I'm thankful for my husband.  We've known each other for 14 years, have been together almost 10 (in January) and next month we'll celebrate 7 years of marriage.  It hasn't always been easy...there have been some pretty awful moments in the past 10 years, but I'm proud of us and how we've stuck together instead of grown apart.  He balances me out -- the perfect Type B to my Type A neuroticism.

I miss him every day, every moment he's been gone the past 6 months, and cannot wait to see him again in a few short (actually, long) weeks.

A month of gratitude.

Oh, hello there blog.  I bet you thought I'd completely forgotten you!!  Sorry about that.

In celebration of NOVEMBER (yay!) and in an attempt to resume somewhat regular blogging, I'm choosing to copy so many others who are giving thanks all month long, by finding something to be thankful for every day.  And it wouldn't be me without being a bit late...so today I have 3 posts, for the 1st 3 days of November.

Today I'm thankful for my 2 littles.  They make me smile, they make me cry, they make me stress out until I feel every hair on my head would be gray (if it weren't for regular hair appointments of course).  I never pictured myself as a mother when I was in high school and college, and never had that deep maternal instinct until much later.  But now?  I cannot imagine what my life would be without them.  They have changed every single facet of me, and I cannot thank God enough for choosing me to be their momma.

Everything is just fine, until...

I try really, really (really, really) hard not to whine or complain about Paul's deployment.  There are some who would just tell me, "Well, you knew what you were getting into when he joined the military."  Which I disagree with, but that's besides the point.  No one really understands what it's like to say goodbye to your husband (or wife), who is headed to a warzone for 7 (or more) months, unless they've actually done it themselves.  So to say, "Oh, I totally understand how you're feeling," when you haven't done that?  No.  For that reason, I don't really share much of my misery, whether with friends or on Facebook or whathaveyou, because there are very few who actually understand.  Plus, I'm not really looking for sympathy, and I don't want to open the aforementioned, "Well, you knew this going in it..." can of worms. 

And honestly, most days are really good.  William and Amelia keep me very busy so lots of the day is spent chasing them around and playing, and the hours pass by relatively quickly.  But there are certain things, just random events, that catch me off guard and send me spiraling into a pit of sadness.  I'm sure it's pretty normal.  And I also assume it's better to have these moments than not...because what would that say?  That I don't miss my husband?  So I guess this post is just a vent.

WOW.  Was that a ramble?

Everything is just fine, until...

1. You're driving and see a car exactly like your husband's, and get that excited feeling in your stomach because maybe, just maybe, it's him, home early to see you!
2. You're in a store and catch the fleeting scent of your husband's cologne. 
3. Your daughter tells you for the 12151839th time today that her daddy is "on a ship!"  No child should have to go so long without seeing both parents.
4. The weekend comes.  And you see all kinds of families WITH daddies, out having fun.  Paul hasn't been able to enjoy a summer with us since Amelia was a newborn.
5. You check, daily, the Donut of Misery.  It's only going to tell you how much time is left of the deployment (and it's a lot...)
6. You wake up in the middle of the night after a dream of your husband that was so real, and are super sad it had to come to an end.
7. You realize there are still so many holidays between now and homecoming.
8. And speaking of homecoming, you see pictures and video of other homecomings, and they make you so happy and so sad at the same time.  Because homecoming?  So. Far. A. WAY.

Wah me, right?  I know.

And the baby who evened the score.

So we all know how much of a joyful surprise William was.  I found out I was pregnant with him on December 10th (yes, I remember the exact date...even the time...11:17 was the time on the clock in our kitchen when the test popped up "Positive.")  Amelia was just over 7 months old, I took the test while she was napping on a whim, because I was having some intense back pain and was about to make a doctor's appointment to figure out what was going on.  Imagine my surprise, right?  It was more like paralyzing shock.

I spent pretty much every day of my pregnancy terrified that he was going to be a difficult baby, just like his big sister.  I was scared he'd be high maintenance from the beginning (he wasn't), a horrible sleeper (well, he wasthat), cry non-stop (nope), wouldn't take a pacifier (he did), or a bottle (he did - yay!)  I would go to sleep at night right up until the night before he was born, and plead with God to give me a baby with a laid-back temperment who I could handle while dealing with a toddler.  I was SO SCARED that we'd bring him home from the hospital and I'd fall to pieces again, only this time with an audience who would need her mommy to hold it together.  I couldn't (or maybe wouldn't) let myself relax.

I know Paul was thrilled to find out we were having a son. Those early days, where I was still dealing with the panic and fear of another baby, I'd pray for a son because then I could give Paul a little man to rough house with and do all those types of dirty, smelly, boy things.  There's just something about a father and son and the unique bond they share...probably similar to the bond mothers and daughters share.  I know he would have been thrilled for another daughter, and I would have been too, but we felt so blessed the day we found out our son was on the way. 

William's actual birth was very quick -- he was born while a team of nurses frantically paged a doctor, anydoctor, to come deliver him.  He just had plans of his own, and true to his personality, he's been that way ever since.  He's a determined, sweet, energetic little guy who would figure out a way to climb the refrigerator if there was something up there he wanted.  He loves his sister more than anyone else, even if she doesn't quite return that same level of affection.  He was such a sweet newborn, completely opposite from what I was expecting.  By about 2 months he perfected the "smize" (smile with the eyes) and his deep belly laughs are some of my favorite sounds ever.  I fear for his toddlerhood, only because I'm not sure I'll be able to sit down or sleep or even take my eyes off him until he's about 18...and even then, I wonder.

These days when I think back to the pre-William days, I always feel like he's missing.  There are pictures of Amelia's first Christmas, trips to the zoo and even day-to-day life and they all seem incomplete without him, even though another child was nowhere near our radar.  The transition to 2 babies was much easier than I ever imagined, though it's still no cake walk, and there are days I wake up and tell myself if we all survive to naptime then that counts as a success.  He's definitely evened the score (girls: 2, boys: 2...but girls still win, a lesson he'll need to learn soon and I'm sure big sister will teach him!) and completed our family. 

Perfect little boy, my Boog.

The baby who made me a mommy.

Amelia was very much a planned baby.  Paul and I dreamed of starting our family for about a year and a half before we finally got the positive test result that changed everything.  So it may come as a surprise to all when I say (gulp) it was not love at first sight.  Or, maybe a better way to phrase it would be, I loved her because I'm her mommy, but I didn't feel that amazing, intense, instant connection with her that I read all about while I was pregnant.  I remember clearly the moment they placed her tiny little pink body on my stomach the moment after she was born.  She started to cry and I thought, "Huh.  So I guess that means life as I know it is over." 

And that was pretty much my mindset for the first 8-9 months of her life.  Of course, I loved her intensely and took care of her the best way I knew how, but it took a long time for me to feel like she was really, truly mine.  She screamed.  All.  The.  Time.  And if you didn't have the pleasure of visiting us in those early days and months of her life, just take my word for it.  Doctors told me it wasn't colic, she was fussy and needy, and she was (obviously) just a baby.  If I had a penny for every time I heard the phrase, "Babies cry.  It's totally normal.  Babies cry."...well...let's just say I'd be driving a Bentley (or maybe I'd have a driver driving my Bentley) and living in a country estate in France because I would be LOADED.  I also struggled for a long time with post partum depression and anxiety, which is shameful and embarassing and humiliating and isolating.  It took a really long time for me to feel normal again...in fact, I remember about a week before I found out I was pregnant with William, I told Paul that I was finally feeling like me again, and I was so glad we weren't having another baby for a very long time.  HA!  God has such amazing timing, no?

Anyway.

I love my daughter.  I firmly believe our souls are entwined, that we're sort of cut from the same cloth, and that's why I physically hurt and ache when she's not with me.  I cannot imagine my life without her, not for a second.  I love her smile, her giggle, her fierce devotion to me...she is a mama's girl, through and through.  She loves her family, her baby brother (most of the time) and nothing makes her happier than a day spent outside. 

I can't believe she's already 2 years old.  Some days I look at her, and wish I had those first months of her life back to relive.  There are things I thought and said and felt that I am ashamed of, and I'll live with that for the rest of my life.  But I am so proud of the little girl she's become, I'm proud of the mommy she's made me, and I'm embracing (well, trying to embrace) all of the moments we share together. 

Love her.  To pieces.

Rough night.

And it wasn't because William was up multiple times crying, or because Amelia refused to go to sleep and stay asleep. 

No...it was because I read this article, filled with sorrow, anger, acceptance and grief.  (Warning: you need about a box of tissues and a glass of water to get through it all.  That's not an exaggeration or a joke.  Don't say I didn't warn you.)  The Google-aholic in me found out this morning that the article won several awards, including the Pulitzer.  Well-deserved, for sure.

I cannot imagine waking up to life as a widow every morning.  I was terrified to go to sleep last night because I have been having pretty intense nightmares lately, and was scared to even dream something like this.  An unfinished life, so many what-ifs...it was just too much for me to bear last night.  And so, while I cling to the knowledge that Paul is relatively safe, and the landscape of an aircraft carrier is nowhere even close to the landscape of Afghanistan or Iraq or anywhere else our soldiers are, it still hits just a little too close to home. 

I promise to post happier things, I truly do.  I guess just not today.

And he's gone.

Deep sigh, right?  Paul left Tuesday afternoon.  We're hoping he's home by Christmas, though given the current state of affairs in the world (Japan, Libya, al Quaeda, etc.) I'm not going to hold my breath.  What I AM going to hold is my babies, who are daily reminders of their daddy.  Especially William, who is, obvi, Paul's mini me.  The resemblance between the two of them is scary. 

I mean, I gave birth to TWO babies, you'd think at least ONE of them could look like me, right?  Wrong.

That's all I've got.  We were lucky enough to get some amazing pictures taken by an incredible photographer and I stare at them approximately eleventy billion times a day. 

She's two.

Well actually, she's two + a week and a few days.  I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my baby is now two whole years old.  That's halfway to four, which is about school age, and then that means middle school and that awkward phase where mom is no longer cool, and then high school and dating and graduation, and college and weddings and ahhhhh!  So, I've been a mom for over 2 years now...and happy to say I've yet to even try on a pair of mom jeans.  Ha!!  That other baby of mine is eight (point five) months...and I know how quickly the last 4 months of baby-baby goes.  Pretty soon we'll be wrangling 2 full-fledged toddlers around here.  You spend so much time wishing and hoping they'll reach and conquer the next big milestone that, if not careful, you miss the chances to just sit and relax and enjoy their babyness.  Is that a word?  Because it is now.  Babyness goes so quickly and is replaced with toddlerhood, which is, um, sometimes trying.  Anyone with a 2+ year old knows the ups and downs of this fun stage!!

Amelia's birthday was lovely.  We didn't do much, just celebrated with a few gifts and a delish cake prepared by yours truly and Grammy.  She got some lovely gifts, including a birthday cake set from Uncle Jordy, play food set, teapot and Jeep (more on that later) from Grammy and Grampy, and we got her an apron with her name embroidered on it and a big pool-type thingie for this summer.  Said pool-type thingie is actually something I can't wait to sit in myself, with both babes...if only Indiana weather would catch the memo that it's MAY SIXTH already and it's still cold and rainy up in here.  I mean, there aren't even leaves on the trees around these parts.  Missing Virginia weather right about...now...

Pictures of the little lady's special day:

This cutie wanted in on the action, but he has to wait a few more months for HIS birthday.

Shirt says, "I still live with my parents."  HAHA!!

Goodbyes.

I am horrible with goodbyes.  Just the thought of saying goodbye to someone, anyone, turns me into an awkward, sweaty, nervous mess.  I don't know for sure why I'm so bad with them.  All I know is, when faced with a goodbye, I'd rather get a root canal without meds.  And chances are, if you've had the unlucky privilege of saying goodbye to me, you know it's painful.  As in, do I hug?  Do I not hug?  Do I play it off and make a joke and not focus on the fact that it could be months, years, NEVER, before we see each other next?  Most of the time, I'm looking at the ground, fidgeting with my hands, hoping and praying that it'll just END already and we can both go our separate ways.  It's horrible.  And goodbye shouldn't be so hard for me, considering the past 7 years of my life have been filled with goodbyes.

Goodbye childhood home, college, Indiana, my mom and dad and family and friends...  Goodbye Virginia, good job, newfound Navy friends, our first home as a married couple...  Goodbye Charleston, the best of friends, amazing job, wonderful southern charm (including shrimp and grits and weekends at the beach)...Goodbye goodbye goodbye.  UGH.  HATE THEM.

So, as one can imagine, the BIG goodbye coming in my life is making me anxious.  And hello, awkward, how crazy is that!?  We've been scrambling around here, filling out paperwork for our Wills, advanced directives, custodianships.  Packing.  Laundry.  Cleaning.  So many things packed into the short 24 hours we're given each day, but you know what?  But I happily do it all, if that means I don't have to think and think and think about what's coming.  Because when I sit and think about that?  Cue the sweaty, clammy hands (and armpits, if we're being brutally honest), cue the anxieties about what would happen should the unthinkable happen, cue the countdowns and worry and all that goes into the final days before the day of the BIG goodbye.  There are honestly moments where I wish we could just fast forward to a month from now, when the goodbye is done and we're counting down the days until homecoming.  That is so much more stomach-able (is that even a word?) right now.

Now, let's have a reality check.  Because I know my husband isn't facing combat on the ground.  I can't imagine how I'd be if that was what we're facing. 

Either way, if you have a moment to think of us in the coming weeks, we'd appreciate any thoughts and/or prayers.

There is light at the end of the tunnel, though, because I know this awaits us:

Enthusiasm!

Pictures from the cell-y!

My apologies for the low quality, but I think they're pretty cute.

William started solid foods a few weeks ago and is doing really well!!  He has a bit of a sweet tooth (who can blame him?) and isn't a huge fan of peas or green beans.  Just wait until you get some teeth, kiddo.  I've got big plans for you!!

This next series melts my heart.  I have so many days where I stress about dividing my time and attention between the two of them.  I worry I'm not teaching Amelia enough, or that I'm not showing William all sorts of new things as he gets more mobile.  But then, there are moments like this.  Moments that make me exhale, and relax, and realize that the sweet little relationship between these two is really growing.  She knows when he's not around (and lets me know when he's missing [read: napping], justincase I forgot about him!) and he lights up when she's near him.  I love that they'll never know life without one another.  I hope they grow up close, the best of friends.

This is Billy Joel's book, "Goodnight My Angel."  A great lullabye book, for sure!

Are you dying from the sweetness yet?

So, Amelia has stopped napping altogether.  It's a sore subject for me, but when we were driving home from a shopping trip to Target on Sunday, it got super duper quiet in the backseat.  And usually, when it gets super duper quiet, that means one (or both) of the babies is being naughty.  NOT SLEEPING!!  If only she'd do this in her CRIB!

Remember when I said William loves his big sister? This is a pic from this morning when I asked if he was ready to go get her up and out of bed. I mean, he's not even that excited to see me in the morning!!