Saturday, October 31, 2009

Missing you.

As usual, Sophie Salome, I am missing you.  No need to get into the hard, deeper feelings of the past weeks.  Not here or now.  Today was beautiful.  Despite pendulous weather, we had a beautiful day.  But, it hurt to miss you like this. 

Who would have known your sister Eleanor would be the queen of trick or treat?  (Um, duh, everyone probably knew that.)  But, she marched from house to house, yelling "Happy Halloween!" and cackling like a witch.  It was delightful.  You would have loved it, too.

Who would have known your sister Josephine would have ridden content the whole time strapped to me?  (Again, everyone.)  But, she rode from house to house, babbling and being very brave in the drizzle.  And, kicking her pointed toes like a ballerina.  It was delightful.  You would have loved it, too.

Those things are such wonderful realities to live each day, and today was a good one for memories.  And, they make me ache for life with my four year old.  Four years, I've been your mom, and each of those thousands of days I've wished for you.  I still wish for you, all day every day.  And, imagine your sweet face, your "Trick or Treat," your strut down the sidewalk, your giggling with Eleanor while we wash the color from your hair, and your protests at bedtime.  My life could only be more wonderful if you were here with me.  Miss you, sweet girl.

We love you.  "I wish you would come back, but I know that you can't, so I guess this will have to be enough."

Happy Fourth Birthday, Sophie Salome.

Your day was so bright.
A witch and ballerina.
Both felt your spirit.



Happy Fourth Birthday, Sophie Salome.

Ate at the old place.
With what would be your best buds.
Your sister bit me.

Happy Fourth Birthday, Sophie Salome.

Not short on laughter.
Stopped by the place you're resting.
Good cries all around.


Happy Fourth Birthday, Sophie Salome.

Played in red-brown leaves.
With the neighbor boy you'd love.
Spent family time there.

Happy Fourth Birthday, Sophie Salome.

Happy Birthday Soph.
Woke on lazy Saturday.
Dressed up to see you.






Four Years.

Today, at 8:51 am, four years ago, I was in labor with Sophie Salome.  We missed and loved you then, we miss and love you now.

More to come in quieter moments.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Stopping time.

I just finished feeding Josephine and putting her down for a nap.  While I was feeding her, she was curled up on my stomach, basically in fetal position.  Her perfect chubby legs were covered in blue striped leggings, and she was rubbing her round, bare, little feet together while she fell asleep, her fingers opening and closing rhythmically on my thumb.  Such a sweet baby. 

But, she had remnants of greenbeans on her face.  Not even baby food - she had eaten whole green beans for lunch.  And, a bit of one had become stuck to her face.  Such a sweet, growing, changing baby.

Sometimes, I wish away the hours.  I wish she could walk, because my arms get tired.  Or, I lament the frustrations of pumping at four am.  Or, I wish she could face forward in the car so I could see her sweetness.  Or, gasp, I wish she could be trusted to luxuriate with Eleanor on the couch watching Ratatouille while I write a paper.

But, moments like we just shared remind me that my Josephine is so absolutely wonderful right now.  Each day she gets closer to never falling asleep in my arms, never being comforted by my hand on her hair, never riding on my hip for hours, happy as a clam, tied to me by a friend's pashmina. 

So, I know I can't stop time.  But, for just this moment, on a rainy Friday in October, I wouldn't really mind.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Josephism.

Ok, so that's silly, because Josephine doesn't say anything too funny.  (Although she has been heard around town saying "baby," "momma," "daddy," and "hi.")

But, most of what Josephine has been saying lately is "Ow."  Because, she has been hitting her head one million times a day.  It is just so easy to forget how much babies this age hit their heads.  Crawls near the armoir, hits her head.  Shimmies under the piano bench, hits her head.    Pulls up on the coffee table, hits her head.  It is bananas.  Seems she can't make a move without a bonking.

Poor Jogini.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Eleanorism.

"Mommy, me a pumpin'. A pump, a pump, a pump-pump-pump. Me a pumpin', but my nipples hurtin' bad. A cleanin' my pumps. Well, my one pump."

(This is going on while Eleanor sits on the toilet naked, "pumping" with a handpump.)

Thursday, October 15, 2009

It's that day again.

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. It's been a really hard few weeks for me, and a pretty hard day specifically. And, of course, it's hard for many people we know and love. Please keep them (and their children) in your thoughts and prayers. (Mary said it beautifully - "they are mothers of more children than they put to bed each night.")

Sunday, October 11, 2009

So what if I do?

So freaking what if I stop pumping right now? I am not saying that I'm going to. But, so what if I do?

I have over 1,000 ounces of frozen breast milk.

Which means, given that that would last about six weeks, Josephine would get breast milk until 11 months.

That also means that I've pumped approximately 7,000 ounces of breast milk in the last nine months.

I am sorry, in case you didn't notice the first time, that's 7,000 ounces.

So, let's say for the first three months, I pumped eight times a day for 30 minutes each. That's FOUR hours a day. Times 30 days a month (give or take). Times three months. That's 360 HOURS of pumping.

Let's say six times a day for the next three months. That's 270 HOURS of pumping.

Let's say four times a day for the next three months. That's 180 HOURS of pumping.

That means, over the last nine months, I've spent 810 HOURS PUMPING.

So, that also means that I've pumped give or take 540 times.

That also means, if it takes me 10 minutes to set up, sterilize, clean up, etc. to pump, I've spend 5,400 MINUTES PREPPING. That is 3.75 DAYS SPENT PREPPING TO PUMP.

On the up-side however, if formula costs $100 per month, I've saved my family $900 DOLLARS in nine months.

So, take that. So what if I stopped today?

Friday, October 09, 2009

Windytime.

That is what Eleanor calls a windy day. She says, "Nice day, Mommy. No rain. It's WINDYTIME!"

The only bad thing about windytime is that our internet has been spotty. But, we're back in touch now. I took the girls out Wednesday for some pictures in and around Historic Sykesville. I planned to take their pictures together (in these beautiful fashions a la Maura Bayly), but Eleanor couldn't sit still for 10 seconds. Windytime is just too exciting. But, here they are!

Sunday, October 04, 2009

I know you love...

the Eleanorisms.

But, that you'd love pictures more! There are some coming. I promise. I'm sitting here, pumping (yep, still pumping - J is exclusively breast (milk) fed, aside from pbj, pizza, peas, bananas, and egg yolks, of course), wishing I had some pictures to upload for you. I've checked facebook about 100 times in the last ten minutes.

But, here is a video to tide you over!

Saturday, October 03, 2009

Eleanorism.

"Mommy uses the car to hit reindeer."

Eleanorism.

"Mommy, take this crap off my eggs."

(Me: Did you just say crap?

E: Yes. Crap. This dirty crap.

Me: Crap? Crap?

E: Yes. This burned crap. These eggs crappy.

Me: Crappy?)

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Eleanorism.

I love my pligget munch.

(I love my piglet much.)

Ladybugs and Bubbles.

Eleanor's imagination has taken off lately! Here are bits of imaginative play she's been engaging in.

1) Having a snack. At any time, Eleanor might be found digging in a pocket, down her shirt, or in the couch cushions. She also can be seen moving her tiny little hands and fingers randomly across a tabletop. What is she doing? Finding or making a snack. Usually, it's corn on the cob, but sometimes chocolate milk, gummies, pbj, lettuce, etc. Then, she doles the snacks out. And, goes around the room and asks each recipient, "Corn good?" "Chocamilk good?" Mmm, chocolate milk from between the couch cushions - just what I wanted. :o)

2) Everything is magic lately. "Magic girl," "magic horse," "magic pooh bear," etc.

3) Sometimes she sings songs about imaginary things. Likes, bees and spiders. For seemingly no reason.

4) She often pretends she is some kind of animal or another. A horse, dinosaur, monster, rabbit.

5) Imaginary boo-boos. Everywhere. She is currently wearing six "tigger pooh band-aids." Although three of those are from actually injuries, but that is whole different post.

6) Her (real, not imaginary) food is always seeming to become an animal as well. Often horses, because they are fun to make gallop around (and neigh). Just today, we were eating noodles that were rotini and shells. The shells immediately became ladybugs (makes sense) and the rotini became bubbles (hmm, not as fitting). Either way, she made them scream in horror as she grinned with delight and "ate them all down."