A Photo Update

Life is a little bit more hectic these days.  I have to readjust to being away from home all day and trying to make the most of the time we have with Annie in the evenings.  This doesn't leave as much time for blogging.  But I'll get back into the swing of it all, I know.  For now, though, here are some pictures from our weekend...our first St. Patrick's Day with our little leprechaun.

First we played on the porch for a while.  Annie loves her new activity table.  And it's "learn Spanish" setting is teaching mama a thing or two.  (Please excuse the dirty porch floor.  Ugh.)

Then we headed downtown to enjoy the St. Patrick's Day parade.  We met up with Annie's friend, Hank, and his parents.

Then we sat on the grass while we waited for the parade.  The weather was perfect and it was nice to spend some time outside.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Rushing Things

Confession time.  If I allowed myself to be, and if my husband wasn’t so fundamentally opposite of this, I could become one of those moms who constantly worries whether her child is doing what the other kids are doing, developmentally I mean.  As much as I hate to admit it (and I do hate to admit it, but there is something cathartic about doing it), I want my baby to not only meet milestones on time, but to meet them early.  Left unchecked, while I wouldn’t be one to push her (how do you do that to an almost 9-month old anyway?), I would spend more time than I would like worrying about it.  Okay, I already do spend more time than I should thinking about it and without my husband and my mom to give me some perspective, I’m afraid I would easily fall into the comparison trap.

And while that is ridiculous and dangerous on so many levels, the most ridiculous part of all is that I believe my daughter to be perfect.  I really do.  Not that she will always act perfectly as she grows or do exactly what I want her to when I want her to do it, or be without flaw of any kind, but I honestly believe God gave us a wonderful, perfect gift when He chose to give us Annie.  In my eyes, there is no baby more perfect – no baby smarter, funnier, more beautiful or more full of personality.  I make no apologies for that and admit that with no shame.  I mean, it’s kind of part of the job to think these things, is it not?  Well, whether it is in the mama job description or not, it is true with us.  And I like it that way.

Somebody can wear little bows in her hair now.

So why don’t I focus on that instead of wondering whether she is crawling later than the other kids in her class at daycare?  Why do I care whether some other kid is pulling up before she does?  Or eating more table food?  Intellectually, I know that all babies develop differently, and my baby certainly isn’t behind.  So why can’t I internalize that information and get rid of the desire to prove to myself that Annie is right on target? 

I think competition between parents over the development of their children is inspired, in many cases, by anxiety.  You so want your child to fit in, so want her to be included and accepted and “normal.”  Any evidence (or question) to the contrary is scary.  And I guess on some level, when you talk with other parents and find out that their 6 month old is rolling over and yours isn’t or their 8 month old can say “mama” and mean it when yours can’t, you worry that it’s a sign.  A sign that life will be harder for your perfect, beautiful, wonderful child.  But how ridiculous is that?

For the record, I think we're knocking on the door of crawling.

Here’s one thing I know to be true: my baby is happy.  Whatever her abilities (which, I feel compelled to say, I think are right on track), she is happy – loved, well cared for, and generally, just a pleasant child (although sometimes strongly opinionated, which I'm okay with…).  Isn’t that what’s most important?  Isn’t that what really matters?  And not only is she happy, but she is also healthy.  That right there is a gift…and one I don’t take for granted.  Isn’t that the true blessing here?  What more could you ask for as a parent?  Absolutely nothing. 

So here’s to internalizing what every pediatrician, childcare professional, and grandparent will tell you – all babies develop differently.  And here’s to celebrating that difference.  I feel especially silly typing this because just today I got all misty-eyed when I heard a tiny newborn crying in Target.  I saw the weary look on her mother’s face which said both "I didn't get enough sleep last night," and "I don't know quite how to make this stop" and I remembered a specific time when I know I had the same look, in the same baby department, of the same store.  And now, somehow time has moved at warp speed and we’re just over three months away from a first birthday party.  I know time will continue to move faster than I want it to.  I know there will come a day very soon when I will wonder why I was in such a hurry for Annie to meet milestones.  Because, you see, meeting milestones means growing up.  And who in their right mind wants to rush that?

A Quick Update

I feel like I should do one more blog post before my new job starts (on Monday!) and my schedule gets a little less, um, free of activity.  So I figure a nice little update on what’s been going on around here is in order.

Annie –

Just to give you some evidence of how quickly infants develop, Annie has added some new things to her repertoire just since my 8-month post last week.  Almost as soon as I hit the “publish post” button last Wednesday she started saying “mama.”  Mind you, she doesn’t just say it to me, but at least she’s getting the word out now.  And in addition to waving, she now points her finger up in the air, as if to say “number 1.”  I think she’s practicing to support the UK basketball team in the upcoming SEC and NCAA Tournaments.  She will also fist bump you if she feels the spirit.  Oh, and if you give her a high five she thinks you are hilarious.

I love love love watching her little personality take shape!  She’s so social and happy.  I really hope she stays that way because she truly is a joy to watch these days. We really won the lottery in the baby department, I’m here to tell ya.

We have also recently moved family meals from the living room couch, where David and I have been dining for four plus years of marriage (don’t judge, it’s comfortable) to the dining room table.  Annie sits in her highchair and enjoys little bits of what we are eating and other finger foods.  She was getting so cranky playing on the floor while we ate on the couch and never got like that when we went out to eat (and she sat at the table with us in a highchair)  that I finally caught on to the fact that she wanted to be a part of what we were doing.  So now we have a happy baby while we eat and the time David and I spend talking to each other instead of watching the same local news stories for the third time in a row is doing us some good too.

Sort of doing the "Number 1" point.

Just to prove she doesn't always look delighted.  I just don't usually publish the sad face pictures.

David –

I have been greatly lacking in the reporting on the adults in the household business on this blog.  I guess I figure Annie is more interesting (and adorable) than we are.  But I know some of you would probably like to know what is going on with the other two members of the household, so I will try to do better with that.  David’s work has been doing really well.  Working in construction, sometimes the winter months can be a little slow, but this year has been a completely different story.  The company David works for is really growing and the jobs have been steady, and we are really grateful for that.  He celebrated a birthday earlier this week too.  It was fun to watch him celebrate with baby girl for the first time.  I kept thinking of how fun it will be in the coming years to go shopping with Annie for Daddy’s gift.  I expect David’s twin (aka Annie) will really get into that.

Happy birthday to Daddy!

Yours truly –

The biggest news with me is, of course, my new job.  I will officially begin my work in the non-profit world on Monday and I could not be more excited.  People keep asking me if I am nervous and I suppose that is a reasonable question.  I mean, I am completely switching gears here and starting a whole new career.  But I feel no anxiety or nervousness at all.  I am just ready to get started.  Ready to see what lies ahead.  Ready and hopeful to have found a job I actually want to go to in the morning.  It’s sad to say, but that will be a dramatic change for me.  A change I am so excited to have.

We are traveling to Indiana this weekend to visit David’s parents and I am sure Annie will enjoy some quality time with her Nana and Papa.  She had her first overnight stay by herself at Grandma’s last weekend and I think everyone had a great time.  We are so fortunate to have such doting and loving grandparents for our daughter.  Although, that’s the kind of parents they have always been, so we should expect nothing less I suppose.  It is so fun to watch her relationships with them unfold.

Until next week!  Happy weekend, everyone…oh, and “Go Cats!”

8 Months

Here we are again, at another month birthday.  And this month has been a big one for Annie, development-wise.  David has remarked that it seems like she has really learned a lot just in the last couple of weeks.  And I feel like every day she becomes less of a baby and more of a person.  Her personality is really coming out now…and she keeps us laughing all the time.

Here's what we've been up to this month:

Rolling over – Up until this month, Annie has not shown any interest in rolling from her back to her tummy.  She didn’t like being on her tummy and, I suppose, saw no reason to flip there.  All of that changed this month.  She flips over most often in her crib right before sleep.  And I don’t blame her.  Until now, she has been sleeping on her back with her arms over her head.  A precious position, but I never understood how it could be all that comfortable.  Now, she’s sleeping more like the rest of us.  On her tummy with one knee pulled out to the side or sometimes on her side.  And baby girl is still sleeping like a champ, and I say a little thank you to Jesus every day for that little favor.

Hanging out in the hammock with Daddy.

Standing ovation – Little Bit plays great on the floor for quite a while these days, but when she tires of that there is only one place she wants to be – standing on her own two feet.  She scoots over to me and grabs my hands, which is my cue to pull her up to standing.  If I act like I’m not catching on, she crawls all over my legs and lap until she has pulled herself up onto her feet.  She no longer likes being inside her exersaucer, preferring instead to hang out around the outside of it, playing with the toys.  Along with this whole standing business is coming (slowly) an ability to fall down without freaking out.  Each time she lands on her Pampers-padded bottom she takes it a little more in stride.  And it’s a good thing, because I know we have many more falls and bumps in our future as she becomes more mobile.

Chatty Cathy – Annie’s really got that stringing sounds together thing going now.  She can be pretty chatty almost any time, but she is most talkative on her changing table and in her highchair.  Her word of choice?  No, not “mama” (she laughs at me every time I try to get her to say it).  Her favorite word is, as you might expect, “dada.”  She’s “dadadada”ing all over the place.

First trip to the playground...with her muse.

Waving – A few weeks ago, Annie started this habit of putting her hand out to the side with her elbow bent and kind of shrugging her shoulder when you talked to her.  It was the cutest thing ever and made us laugh every single time, so of course, she kept doing it.  Before long, the hand-and-shrug became a wave and now she will frequently wave hello and bye-bye.  It’s so cute that the whole bye-bye wave makes it even harder to leave her…but at least we have the promise of the hello wave to keep us going.

Teeth – No, still no teeth poking through those gums.  But she has been having more periods of inexplicable fussiness and I think I’ve noticed some swelling in her gums.  Most of the time, she still seems pretty okay with this long teething process, so we’ll just keep waiting for those pearly whites to appear in their own time.

I keep waiting for the whole hormonal emotional part of motherhood to ease up.  But here we are 8 months after Annie's birthday and I still tear up like crazy about being a mom.  I saw a couple of women talking over lunch in a restaurant yesterday, both of them pregnant.  One of them had that about to pop look to her, while you wouldn't have known the other was expecting were it not for the ultrasound pictures she was proudly showing off.  I thought as I looked at those women, they have no idea what's coming.  No idea how much they are going to love those children.  While I was pregnant, I loved Annie.  Before I knew her, I was connected to her.  But that was nothing compared to the emotion I felt - and continue to feel - after she made her appearance.  And so as I sat in the restaurant watching the about-to-be-mamas, I felt a little jealous of them.  Jealous of the birth days they will soon share with their children.  Jealous because I wish I could have captured that moment of ours in time and relive it (preferably after the labor part, mind you) again and again.  Because it is foggy to me.  It all happened so fast.  And time has only sped up since then.

So happy 8 months to our sweet baby girl!  She's growing like crazy and changing before our eyes.  And we are loving every minute!

Change

You know what they say about God closing doors and opening windows?  Well, there’s been a whole lot of door closing and window opening around here.  I know lots of people say this, but I really mean it.  I’m not a fan of change.  Change is scary.  Change causes worry and anxiety.  Change brings me face to face with the unknown.  But change can also be exciting.  It can be meaningful.  It can be necessary.  We are in a season of change in our house.

I won’t get into all the details, but the Reader’s Digest version of the latest change around here is that I am not only starting a new job in a couple of weeks, but starting a new career.  I had been unhappy and unfulfilled in my legal career for…well, really, since it started.  I thought maybe changing law firms would help, but it didn’t.  And when I had Annie and went back to work it was like a spotlight was shining on all of the things I didn’t like about what I did for a living.  It's hard to admit that you don't like what you do.  And it's particularly hard to admit that - especially to yourself - when you have spent three years and a lot of money training to do the thing you don't like.  But the time came for me to accept the fact that my feelings about practicing law weren't going to change.

Let me be clear here, there is absolutely nothing wrong with my old career.  It is a worthy profession.  Lots of good, smart, wonderful people do it and do it very well.  I just realized that it wasn’t for me.  And once I saw that, there was kind of no ignoring it.

This face has a way of putting things in perspective.

Here I am, almost 36 years old, with a house, a full on grown up family with husband and new baby and everything, and law school student loan debt.  Doesn’t seem like the best time to change careers does it?  But for me – for our family – there could not be a better time.  For whatever reason, now, this year, right in the middle of adjusting to parenthood and all that it brings with it, is the time to make a change.  This has been made abundantly clear to me.  I’ve learned that we can’t pick the timing for most things.  We couldn’t choose when Annie was to enter our family (despite our best efforts, which you can read about here)…and yet, her arrival ended up perfectly timed.  I know the same is true for this change in my life.

So I have bid goodbye to the legal profession (I always feel strange saying or writing that – I mean, it’s not like I’m now going into an illegal profession).  And I am saying “hello” to work in the nonprofit sector.  It sounds all Pollyanna and hokey, I know, but for me, there was nothing like having a baby to make me want to do something meaningful with my professional life.  And for me, meaning needs to come from work that directly benefits my community.  The indirect stuff I was doing before just wasn’t enough to justify my dropping my daughter off early every morning at daycare and picking her up late.  It’s one thing to leave your child in someone else’s care so that you can do something that matters to others, matters to you, or, at the very least, is something you like doing.  It’s something else entirely to do that when the work you are doing doesn’t make you happy, generates a disproportionate amount of stress in your life, and leaves you feeling like you’re missing something.  The latter, my friends, was what I was doing.  And I don’t want to do that anymore.

Annie says, "Yay, Mama!"

As has been true of many things in the almost two years since my dad passed away, I have found myself thinking a lot about what he would have had to say about this life change of mine.  My dad never really seemed to mind change - at least that's how it appeared to me.  In fact, it almost seemed as if he welcomed it, so long as it was in the best interest of his family.  He changed careers several times over the course of his adult life and always seemed to use that change as an opportunity to help others.  I know my dad would be proud of what I am doing.  As much as he liked to tell people about his lawyer daughter, I know he would be just as happy to talk about his daughter who works in development for a nonprofit.  He would have handled this change - and the bumps and dips we have experienced to get here - gracefully.  And, with him in mind, so will I.

I am so excited to start this new chapter, and can't wait to see what lies along this road God is taking me - and my family -  down.  And I am so incredibly grateful and thankful for my wonderful, supportive husband who has cheered me on through this whole process, despite the affect it may have on our bank account.

So change, it is a comin'.  It appears the Nobles like to live with the windows open.

Guilty Displeasures

I’m reading a book right now that is inspiring me to do some thinking.  I know, I know.  Watch out, right?  And thanks to my lovely sister-in-law, Abi, for sending this book to me…you have no idea what you have started.  The book is The Happiness Project and it chronicles the writer’s year-long quest to be happier (for more on the book and the project, check out her accompanying blog here).  To put it simply, I identify with this concept and can’t stop thinking of ways to apply it to my own life.

Now, make no mistake, I consider myself to be a happy person.  But am I as happy as I could be?  As I should be?  I have a remarkably blessed life.  The kind of blessed life that sometimes brings tears to my eyes at the most random of moments, just because I am overcome with what I have.  It is truly the life I have always wanted.  So why, then, do I find myself spending more time than I should thinking about what annoys me, what frustrates me, or what could be slightly “better”?  Well, because I’m human, of course.  But just because it is common practice to apply the whole grass is always greener approach to life doesn’t make it right. 

Who wouldn't be happy with this face around?

So I have recently started identifying areas in my life where I have formed a bad habit of sabotaging my own happiness.  And since I decided when I started this blog that I would sometimes use it to process some not-so-easy stuff, I decided to share one of those areas (and perhaps more down the road).  Area #1 where I wreak havoc on my own happiness? Guilt.  Sounds like a fun topic, doesn’t it?  (My tongue is firmly planted in my cheek with that question, just so you know.)

I feel guilty for lots of things, and when I really look at them I find that they fall into two categories: things I just need to get over and let go of and things I need to do something about.  In the first camp are things like (and these are all stories for another time, really) feeling guilty for taking Annie to daycare (although she loves it, we love it, and from all appearances the people who care for her love it), feeling guilty for switching Annie from breast milk to formula, and feeling guilty about the fact that I pay hundreds of dollars in student loans each month for an education that equipped me for a profession I am now trying to separate myself from.  These are all things I just need to get over.  Decisions that have been made – all of them, I believe, with positive results for my family and for my personal well being.  Topics I just need to stop obsessing over. They are all areas of either personal or societal conflict or controversy, but they are decisions I would make exactly the same way were I to do it all over again.  I am realizing that the mommy guilt, professional guilt, and various other forms of guilt I feel over these topics is accomplishing nothing more than zapping my happiness.  So now is the time to get over it.  Let it go.  Move on, already!  Certainly easier said than done, but a simple enough solution to identify.

Annie says, "Get over it, Mama!"

The second category of guilt-inducing topics is a little harder to deal with because they involve actual action on my part.  These are things like feeling guilty for nagging my husband, guilt that is inspired by my failure to get out of the house each day to run, and guilt that comes from putting another box of Pop Tarts in the shopping cart when I know how very bad they are for me (but those chocolate ones must have crack in them, because I can’t stop eating them).  These sources of guilt are all within my realm of control.  But instead of stopping my bad behaviors, I just continue to practice them and then feel guilty about it later.  Or at the exact moment I’m doing it, as in the case of nagging David and buying Pop Tarts.  So what’s a girl to do?

Well, the first step for me is identifying the problem.  Hello, my name is Sarah and I am a guilt-aholic.  And because I can’t do anything without an excruciating amount of self-examination, I have been searching for the root of the problem.  Here’s what I’ve found: I am a person of high expectations.  I have high expectations for others, yes, but I have even higher expectations for myself.  And every time I fall short of these expectations, a little seed of guilt is planted.

Case in point: When I started exercising again after having Annie, I immediately started training for a half marathon.  I had done them before, pre-baby, so I thought I should just be able to pick up where I left off and train for another one.  It never occurred to me that I might be expecting a little too much from myself, from my body, from my psyche.  And so I feel guilty every day that I don’t run (which, lately, has been a lot of days), because I see that high goal I set for myself becoming less and less likely to be a reality.  Instead, I could have (and I believe, should have) started a “Couch to 5K” program so that I could feel the accomplishment of reaching a worthy goal while easing myself back into a level a fitness that pregnancy and post-partum recovery have made difficult.  See, I’m growing here, people!  Right before your eyes.

I won’t bore you with further examples, but I will say that my mind is made up that this whole guilt party I’ve been throwing for, oh, most of my adult life, is going to stop.  It may not be easy.  It may not feel nice.  But it is necessary.  So here’s to self-forgiveness, blowing up those roadblocks to happy land, and feeling even happier!  Are you a happiness saboteur too?  If so, you are in good company…we can walk down this road to self-improvement together.

One final picture for today...

 

A Valentine's Post

Annie rarely needs middle of the night attention anymore.  God blessed us with a truly wonderful sleeper and when she does happen to wake in the wee hours she is usually really good at putting herself back to sleep.  Not last night, though.  And last night she did something really unusual – but wonderful.  Instead of wanting to be fed when she woke at 4:00 a.m., she simply wanted to be held.  And I was the lucky one who got to hold her. 

When the middle of the night jabber I awoke to turned into fussing, which then turned into intermittent little crying, I figured she had fully awoken herself and realized she was hungry.  So into her room I went with a bottle in hand.  As I lifted her from her crib, she gently touched my face with both of her little hands.  I sat down in the glider and cuddled her in my arms, bringing the bottle within her eyesight so she could grab it and guide it and my hand to her mouth as is her usual protocol.  She did that for a minute, drank for just a brief time, and then took the bottle from her own mouth and just relaxed against me. 

She wrapped her fingers around my thumb with one hand and played with the zipper of her sleep sack with the other.  Then she caught sight of my face out of the corner of her eye and reached up to touch my cheek and then play with my hair.  She rubbed her eyes and relaxed even further into me and then her little eyelids closed and her breathing got deeper.  As I stood up with her and placed her in her crib I thought this was the perfect (although early) start to Valentine’s Day.  Because there was a lot of love in that nursery.

The whole experience only lasted 6 or 7 minutes.  And I know it would lose a little (or maybe eventually, a lot) of its charm if it happened often.  But it truly got my day off to a wonderful start.  Happy Valentine’s Day to me, indeed.

David and I aren’t over the top Valentine’s Day celebrators.  We fall more into the camp of “show your love everyday” then the grand gesture once a year deal.  We kind of pride ourselves on our Valentine’s Day tradition of going to Target together, setting a very reasonable price limit, and then separating for 30 minutes or so to find the perfect gift for the other.  It’s one of my favorite times all year.  Because I feel like we are kind of turning the convention on its head, but still celebrating the point behind it.  And also because it is our thing, our way of celebrating, our time together…as valentines.

An oldie but goodie of me and my valentine.

My loves.

 So however it is you choose to celebrate – whether it’s a trip to Target and an early morning baby rocking session like me, or something a little more conventional – enjoy this day for what it is.  A time to think about what and who you love.  I know I am making a mental list all day of what I love about this blessed life.  Feel free to do the same!