Thankful.

I am really thankful this year. Duh. It's Thanksgiving, so that's not a novel sentiment. But, here is my short list:

Our big, extended family. The delicious food we ate today, prepared with love. The hugs we got and were able to give. The warm houses we visited. And, all the happiness all around.

Our babies:
Sophie Salome, the smiling angel.
Eleanor Angelina, the sweet tot (who was a complete joy today and gave kisses and laughs to all 31 people who were lucky enough to see her).
Baby J., the silly and squirmy.

But, the award goes to Bill today. Bill has gone above and beyond lately. Today was his first day off in 31 days, as he's been working full time and replacing all of Grandma Jean and Dr. Dean's windows. This means he's been working, among other things, so that we can afford for me to just be home with my babies for a little while. Monday, he starts a new, very different, much deserved job at his company. He is taking in stride the fact that we don't know all of what that will entail. He is finishing up a full course load of all upper level credits (his second-to-last). He also has to be married to me, and that is a chore in itself. I'd like to say I am a wonderful wife, and he probably would say that to anyone who would listen, but I am fully aware of how difficult I am. And, I know he loves me for my "spunk," but sometimes I am a total pain. And, I know Eleanor is the most amazing little lady around, but sometimes she is a sassy little fit thrower. And, I know how hard it is to parent an angel baby, and wait on a baby being born. And, yet with all that he has going on, he never abandons his sense of humor, heart, or thoughtful nature. Today, with all I have to be thankful for, I know especially how much I have to be happy with in my husband.

I love you, buddy.

"Baked" has taken on a whole new meaning...

Today, Eleanor and I baked the day away. There are no pictures of us (even though I promise these sweets are homemade) because actually Eleanor was napping most of the time and I am immensely round and covered with flour.

Why would I be so round, you wonder? Well, maybe because I am over eight months pregnant, and always (pregnant or not) absolutely love food. Haha. Anyway, what follows: one sweet potato pie, one blueberry pie (winner of the best-looking pie award as far as I'm concerned), one apple crisp, two loaves of banana bread, and one loaf of apple nut bread. Also, in the pot is a half simmered corn chowder (not looking its best yet), which will be ready later and we will eat for dinner! The smells in here are enough to make a person full. :o)

(And, ironically, with all this, all I've eaten today are two PB&Js, with two accompanying glasses of soymilk, and two pieces of toast - pathetic.)

Sassy as she may be...

...I can't get enough of this baby, or this pink hat! You can't quite see here, but the hat has four red puff balls on the top. Now, I never never never buy anything. If you've been "shopping" with me, you know. If you've even talked to me, you know I spend about 50% of the conversation grumbling about money. And, I never imagined I would put Eleanor in ball-adorned fleece. But, when I saw this hat (and matching mittens) at Once Upon a Child, I just knew! Best $5 I've spent in quite a while!

3y3w3d...

...since the day Sophie was born. In those years following, I have seen so many blogs of so many families to lose sweet babies. And, today, I am wishing that I had some beautiful pictures of our family. A person never has the opportunity (thank goodness, I suppose) to offer advice to brand new mommies to angel babies. And, I hope that no one who reads this ever needs to take this advice. But, if ever you are faced with seeing your baby just once, call a photographer. I think, if I could choose just one thing in my life to do differently (and I couldn't choose saving Sophie), I would choose to save her in pictures. The faded shots we have just aren't enough. Neither is the picture I try to paint with words. And, I know nothing could ever be enough. But, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the longing.

A little update.

A little over five and a half weeks until my c-section.

A little person sure makes a lot of commotion in my uterus.

A little breakdown has been happening each evening (me, breaking down about Baby J. anxiety).

A little prayer sent out that she stays healthy in there.

A little kitty has taken to sleeping in Eleanor's crib.

A little white lie - Eleanor just loves to "meow."

A little stomach bug cost Eleanor a pound or two - a lot on a little body.

A little more time and she'll be good as new.

A little (LOT) excited for the holidays.

A little (TON OF) baking will be going on around here starting soon.

A little bit crazy, because I already bake 4-5 times a week.

A little bird told me that Santa will be making all of our gifts this year.

A little bittersweet lately, as we miss Sophie this time of year.

A little excited though to keep up the fun in her memory.

A little post has turned into a long one.

A little more than too excited to see Baby J.

A little hungry - got to go eat another PB&J.

No. No. And, No.

Well, Eleanor says who knows how many words now. I completely lost count somewhere around 50. But, among them are some pretty sweet words and phrases, like "I love you," "Please," "Thank you," etc. There are also some practical ones like "What is that?", "Bye," "Stop," "Go," "Help." The list goes on.

But, the word of the month is definitely "No." You hear it all the time, parents saying "It was cute at first..." Definitely the case here.

When you ask your baby, "Are you ready for bed?" and the answer is a definitive "No," that's pretty cute. When you ask your baby, "Do you want cheese?" and the answer is "No-ooo." that's clear, so at least helpful. Or in the middle of a tantrum in the middle of a store in the middle of trying to check out, you take away a ridiculous toy you would never waste your money on, and she screams "No!!! No! No! Mama, Noooo!" and tries to bite your sleeve. Not cute.

She falls asleep trying out different version of the word - "No!", "nooo," "na na na no na no." She wakes up screaming "No!" She says "No" when she means "yes," "maybe," "more, " or "hi."

All I can hope is that this goes the way of "bye," "give," "get," "see," "kitty," "dog," and "Daddy." All those words had their runs at number one and have finally been relegated to appropriate usage. Please, NO more NO.

"Visiting" Sophie.

We spent Halloween day as a family. Bill took off work and we visited the cemetery where Sophie is buried. It was bittersweet and sad, but believe it or not, it was a lovely day.
(Sorry for the delay.)

Sophie's Party

Here are a very few pictures of our Halloween party. Both of our cameras died after snapping just a few photos. But, here they are!

A few notes:
1) Sorry for the pathetically blurry pictures - I am not sure if we could have more pathetic cameras.

2) Not sure we could have better friends - sorry to everyone who isn't pictured. (Argh, camera.)

3) Do not mind my bulging jugular. Whenever I really smile, I get the stringly-neck.

4) Bill really loves coffee.

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Well, believe it or not, Eleanor typed that eloquently written title all by herself. :o)

Anyway, Eleanor has been learning a very important lesson between tantrums over the last week or two: How to kick it. Eleanor is getting an A+ in "just kicking it." After lunch and before naptime we often lay in bed together and "read books." We snuggle into our respective spots, get under the covers with our books, and totally lounge. Eleanor will "read" quietly or out loud depending on the book and how exciting it is. I will usually read silently from my own book, unless Eleanor needs my help getting focused. But, she is often willing to "read" and snuggle with me for 30 minutes, and then she either falls asleep next to me, or grabs Fanny and Cow (who we call "these guys") and marches into her own room. (I have to help her into the crib, obviously.) But, this is something we really have been working hard on, which is why I share. Basically, I need that quiet time every morning to get some kicks from Baby J. And, when Baby J arrives (we pray every day), hopefully we will have honed our chilling skills so that we can take some much deserved breaks periodically.


Also, Eleanor has been learning about sharing. Kind of. We go two or three days a week to library class. (Our library has great, free classes for kids.) After they read and sing for half an hour, out come the toys! Bins and bins of toys. And, about 20 one year olds. Eleanor isn't the world's best sharer yet. She really is more into coveting. She sets her sights on another kid's toy, like she can't quite see the potential of an inert toy, but once she sees it getting some play, she must have it! But, she zeros in (I can see it happening) and just snatches it. Then, she takes it and tries to "share" it with someone else. It's an odd system. She also tries to barter a lot. As in, she'll find a piece of lint on the carpet, her ever present hair bow, or her sippy cup and offer it to another child. If the child appears interested in the slightest, she steals the child's actual toy and makes off in the other direction. We are trying.

Update: Sharing is only going medium well. During a playdate with her cousins, Charlie, Avery, and Brand-New-Baby-Bridget, there was quite a bit of successful sharing going on. But, following that, nap-deprived cousins Eleanor and Avery (one of her best same age baby friends) had their first fight. It was over Avery's very posh doll stroller. So, at least it was a worthwhile prize. But, these two girls are both strong-willed and very verbal, so Avery's mommy and I had to actually turn around and laugh. The girls were giving each other "the hand," finger wagging, saying "No! No!" and yelling long strings of what we can only assume were baby-ese expletives.

Hmm.

Eleanor is in the middle of a spectacular tantrum. As in, biting her shirt collar, holding her breath, throwing herself on the floor and grinding her face there, and hugging me and then yelling "NO!" and pushing me away, then dropping to the floor with silent sobs. She is currently wailing and rubbing her face against my pants.

I'm floundering.

I have been in such a weird place for the last few days. I am applying to graduate school. Why? Who knows. I procrastinated, and when I finally went to set up my retake of the GRE test, I was pretty much too late. I signed up anyway, and paid hundreds of dollars to take it. Then, I realized I've gone stupid and that retaking it would not be advantageous. So, I cancelled, hoping to get a refund. Not happening. So, I'm resending my old scores, which were average. But, average likely will not cut it, as I need an assistantship to go. As in, even if the school was paid for, I'd need money every month via some sort of job. That, with momming and school, would not be do-able. So, I am applying to go to graduate school, which I can't afford, when I am pregnant with a baby I haven't even met yet. That makes me feel like a shitty financial planner and mom. And, I am increasingly nervous about Baby J, and her well-being in there. And, so why am I making plans to leave her and my Eleanor (if I actually am accepted), when I still feel like it will be some act of mercy if she actually arrives? Because I have no idea what I am doing.

VOTE.

Lesson learned...safely.

We had a really lovely weekend, this weekend. But, I have a sinus infection and yesterday, I was totally spinning my wheels. As an attempt to jump start me, Bill brought me a steaming, brimming (albeit teacup sized) cup of coffee. He set it on the nightstand, and walked back out of the room. Eleanor and I thanked him, but left it because I don't like it quite that hot. We were reading our books in bed, a new pastime that I completely love. But, of course, I had to break the spell moments later to get up and go get a tissue for my pitiful nose. I put Eleanor on the floor (because I still don't trust her getting in and out of the bed on her own, as she does in fact do a nose dive to the floor about 50% of the time). Then, I walked out to go the five feet away to the bathroom. As I pulled out a tissue and brought it to my nose, I remembered. I just knew it. The coffee. (You may remember from previous posts that Eleanor loves coffee with a passion and points out any coffee cup she sees, even when it isn't obvious.) I raced back to the room, only to be met with a horrifying sight. My baby was holding the full coffee cup in two hands and looking at me with a combination of terror (the cup was SO hot) and ecstasy (she had finally, after all of her scheming, gotten her hands on some Coff-Coff). I dove across the room, not sure what I would do when I got there, not to scald her little hands or body. But, I just didn't get there in time. Luckily, she threw the cup away from her (now I'm glad she has been practicing her throws with every round object she sees) as she began to scream. The hot coffee splashed all over the bed and floor, but none got onto Eleanor, herself. (Had she dropped the cup or unwittingly pulled it toward her, we surely would have taken our first trip to the ER. And, had the cup been any bigger, she might not have had such success picking up without burning herself to begin with. So, thank goodness for those things.) Nonetheless, it was terrifying, and I guess we need to officially be more careful with Coff-Coff, or just start drinking it iced.