A Second Love

I've mentioned before that Baby #2 is more than just a bomb in your marriage, they are a major upheaval of all that is normal for your whole family-of-three's dynamic.  With the first baby you worry about being a good parent and being "ready" for all the things that a baby brings.  With the second baby, you worry about the first baby.  A lot.

I was totally unprepared, and had never heard anyone talk about, the overwhelming amount of guilt I felt towards the end of my second pregnancy.  I was terrified of what this second child would mean to my relationship with my first daughter.  I was excited about the baby, couldn't wait to meet her, hold her, and love her....and that made me feel guilty.

My daughter was a relatively easy toddler....because she was used to the whole world revolving around her.  She played what she wanted, when she wanted.  Her stuff stayed where she put it.  If she wanted a snack or a drink, she got it within a reasonable period of time.  She was our whole world because she was our one and only.  That was about to change - and she had no clue it was coming.  I did know...and it made me feel guilty.

Snuggles on demand were no problem when there was only one kid to snuggle.  Sharing our bed wasn't really a big deal because when she crawled in between us in the middle of the night, there wasn't anyone to be jealous of her doing it.  Stopping what I was doing to do what she wanted was a habit because whatever else I had been doing was only something for me anyway, and she was more important.  There was going to be another person to divide my attention away from her now...and that made me feel guilty.

The last few weeks of my pregnancy, I actually cried sometimes from the overwhelming feeling of change that just felt as if it were swallowing me up.  Jace was only 2 years old - she wasn't going to understand what she was feeling once the baby came and I wouldn't be able to explain it to her in any way that she could understand at such a young age.  My biggest fear was that my sweet baby girl would think Mommy didn't love her anymore.  (Now I'm crying just remembering it, ugh!)

The night before my Cesarean, we left her with my parents and I cried like I would never see her again.  It was ridiculous.  I was being torn in half between how excited I was to finally meet my new baby and how awful I felt about "abandoning" my oldest child to go do it.  Don't judge my irrational behavior - pregnancy hormones are a real B.

The other thing I wasn't prepared for was the next morning when they held that wrinkled up little mess of a strawberry-blonde that is my second child up to my face, and I got to kiss her little fingers and stroke her soft cheek before they whisked her off to the hospital nursery.  "Oh my God...I just fell in love again,"  I told James. 

I was wrong about my heart being split in two for two babies.  I was wrong about having to give up some of my love for Jace so that I would have enough for Daire.  I was wrong to ever doubt that my heart couldn't hold them both at the same time.

My heart got bigger.

Now I feel incomplete without them both in my arms.  My world is not divided, it is more complete.  I have more love, get more snuggles, and make or buy two of everything.  The first year was far from smooth and nothing if not a learning experience, but we made it.  For every time my heart broke for having to tell Jace "hold on" or "not right this second" because of the baby, it has swelled ten times over when I see them hug, snuggle, share, and love each other beyond words. 

I will always remember that first love, but I couldn't imagine life without my second.

♥M

Happy Valentine's Day!

Single or coupled, today's about LOVE!  I choose to think it's not just about romantic love, but a day to celebrate all the people in your life that make you feel special the other 364 days of the year. For me that happens to primarily be my husband and children, but also my friends and other family as well.

A lot of people think that if you don't have a significant other, then Valentine's Day sucks.  If you don't have anyone to make you feel special - then go make someone else feel special!  ♥

Tonight the hubs and I cooked dinner for my grandparents while trying to keep the kids from destroying their non-baby-proof house.  We had a great time, ate, laughed and told stories....then I kissed my kids and hubby goodnight, and they went home.  I'm crashing on my grandparents' couch, munching on some Hershey kisses I found in the pantry, and getting my I.D. channel fix.  I probably should have checked the date on the Hershey kisses, but hey, a little extra buzz off chocolate can't be a bad thing...right?

My grandma says I'm here to babysit them, but I don't have the heart to call it that.  I prefer being called "the muscle."  I mean, I DO workout...

Actually, I just thought my aunt might want to spend Valentine's Day with HER hubs, since she's been sleeping here every night.  I see my hubs every day, and we can go on a date whenever (hahaha!) so what difference does it make if we go out tonight? None. And like I said, today doesn't always HAVE to be about romance, it can just be about the little things that let people know you love them.

So don't mope around if you're unattached!  Once you ARE attached,  you're just as indifferent to the balloons, chocolate, and flowers. They're nice, but I like balloons on my birthday, flowers just because it's Tuesday, and chocolate everyday!

Happy Valentine's Day!

♥M

P.S. If you ARE on a hot date tonight....then get off the Internet and do your thing, crazy!

P.P.S. If your night is more "Hershey kisses & chillin' on the couch" like mine, and you'd like a love story to read in honor of our holiday, then check out these posts! ;)

Another Crazy Love Story: So I met this guy...

Another Crazy Love Story: The Honeymoon Phase

Another Crazy Love Story: The Baby Years

Another Crazy Love Story (Part III)

Part III: The Baby Years

In 2009, we decided we wanted to be a family of three.  In 2010, we had a perfect baby girl, and named her Jace.  Jace was the equivalent of a bomb going off in our lives.  It's very confusing to be in love with each other, then have this little person suddenly take over.  It's not about quantity - you don't love one more than the other.  It's just a different kind of love, but one that's equally intense. 

We survived as well as new parents do.  We were cranky from being up all night.  We learned that trial and error are the ONLY way to learn what makes YOUR baby happy....NOT the 50 baby books on the coffee table or the 200 people telling you how to do everything.  James was extremely supportive when I wasn't able to breastfeed, like I planned.  I learned to let go of my focus on making things go the way I had planned, and instead focus on handling things the way that they went.  Jace made our hearts bigger just by coming into the world.  She was the best thing that had ever happened to us.

The summer after Jace turned one, people kept teasing me, "Time to have another baby!"  I kept saying, "Not yet - We need a bigger house!"  The teasing made me paranoid though, so I took a pregnancy test.  James and I just stared at it for a few minutes....then looked at each other and busted out laughing.  How in the world was this going to work?!  We live in an apartment sized house, and we were drowning in paying student loans!  And yet, we were over the moon excited and couldn't wait to meet Baby #2.  I was, however, fully aware of the fact that I would have to hear those exact same concerns from anyone that we announced my pregnancy to.  I wanted to bask in my joy a little longer...before I had to fend off all of the "helpful" people.  ("Oh my God, you're going to move aren't you?!"  Yes, I just took maternity leave and am pregnant again, so we can definitely spring for new digs.  "How are you going to afford to pay for two kids at the sitter?!"  Well, we're just going to leave one in the backyard while we're at work...it's fenced in.) 

Plus, I was the matron-of-honor in an upcoming wedding, and thought it would be a pretty crap move to announce that I was pregnant in the middle of throwing bridal showers, planning a bachelorette party, and attending dress fittings.  A real "look at me, not her" sort of thing.  Not cool.

Somewhere between month 4 and 5, I casually announced that we were expecting.  It was pretty well received, with the exception of one friend.  She had been having trouble with a second pregnancy, and unfortunately my good news was not something our friendship was able to tolerate.  Looking back, I understand that it was her pain that made her lash out at me; but that there was nothing I could have done to help ease her distress in my "condition."  She saw my unexpected pregnancy as a slap in her face.  She felt that I didn't deserve my baby because I hadn't suffered the same way she had.  It didn't matter that I understood WHY she said the things she said...no amount of understanding can make words like those hurt any less.  I was extremely sad to have lost her friendship, but not everything that is broken can be fixed.  That included the "close as sisters" relationship we had, which I still mourn from time to time.

If it's possible to have two of the "best moments ever," then Daire's arrival was exactly as much of a "best" as Jace's.  She was an even bigger bomb in our lives, however.  The thing about Baby #2, is that they don't just change the lives of you and your spouse....they turn Baby #1's life upside down too.  Poor Jace was so torn between being just as in love with Daire as we were, and also being insanely jealous.  Nothing stayed the same for any of us.  Our house, our schedules, our SLEEP, how we divided our attention...everything changed.  We had the whole "new baby" thing under our belt, but "new baby plus toddler" was nothing short of something I'm still waiting on a trophy for.

The first year of "baby plus toddler" was hard, the second year was bumpy, but now we're hitting smoother patches.  The girls are sharing a room (as opposed to us sharing OUR room...with either of them).  They can both talk now (not always a good thing).  They are both fully mobile (definitely not always a good thing) and decently independent.  The big one can even dress herself!  Woohoo!

Our endurance, tolerance, and patience have been tested daily throughout these baby years, but we do get more sleep than we did a year ago - and THAT is always lovely.  The fact that they are both girls makes for a lot of drama-handling and regular doses of theatrics; but I'm trying to study and gain knowledge daily on diffusing these intense meltdowns....otherwise I'm not sure how we'll all fare through their pubescent years. 

All we can do is march forward, like good parent-soldiers, and take comfort in the fact that we are facing these challenges together.  We'll need each other to lean on in the years to come, that's for sure; because with what I've seen of this parenting stuff so far - it is NOT for those of a weak spirit...or a weak stomach.

♥M

Another Crazy Love Story (Part II)

Part II: The Honeymoon Phase

We might not have had a storybook romance leading up to the wedding, but the honeymoon was perfect.  Sand, sun, drinks, bonfires, sunset cruises...it was perfect.  Well, mostly.

You have to consider that we'd been together for 3 years, and 2 of those years were long distance.  So while we loved each other intensely, we were also used to a certain amount of space... and living in separate towns.  Needless to say, eating, sleeping, and breathing the same air for a solid week became a challenge.  I think it was about Day 6 or so that I actually threw my ring at his head on the way back from the hot tub.  It was obviously something super important and worth throwing my ring over, since I don't even remember what it was.

Then we came home and had the excitement of our first house to keep us busy.  James had spent months gutting and renovating it, and while it wasn't quite complete (we brushed our teeth in the kitchen sink for a while), it was OURS.  Problem is, you can't take two larger-than-life personalities, mash them together in holy matrimony, dump them in an 800-square-foot house in a Mayberry town, and there NOT be fireworks.  Oh, the fireworks.

We are so different and yet so alike, that it's honestly just scary.  We're both loud and fun. (Fun? Or obnoxious....hmmm....guess that depends on YOU. haha)  We're both compassionate.  And at 21 and 22 years old, we were both selfish and stubborn.  (In other words...we were 21 and 22 years old.)  The first year was spent with our horns locked, debating pretty much everything from how to properly load a dishwasher, to what brand of laundry detergent we should use, to who got to pick the paint color for the spare bedroom (since we were OBVIOUSLY not going to agree on one).  Sidenote: no one ever even saw the spare bedroom because we kept it full of boxes until we turned it into a nursery...and repainted it.  Soooo glad we made a big deal out of the original paint color.

My favorite example of how ridiculous we were is called "The Home Depot Incident."  Yes, it has a title.  And yes, our friends know exactly what we're talking about when we cite it. 

Our new house needed a new front door.  No problem, let's go get one.  The problem - we almost got divorced right in the middle of Home Depot over which door to get.  I was determined to have Door A.  James was refusing to concede, and loading Door B onto a cart.  Not to be thwarted, I procured my own cart.

"Put Door A on this cart!"
"I will not.  We're getting Door B!"

I made a fool of myself trying to put the damn thing on the cart alone, then stomped off to find help.  I returned with a guy who put the door on the cart...while James pretended like he didn't know me.  I started towards the checkout line when James sealed his fate:

"You are NOT buying that door."

Ha!  We glared at each other from separate checkout lines.  We attracted some stares in the parking lot as we angrily shoved our respective carts out of the door....and to the same vehicle.  We stood at the back of the truck and finished duking it out until James went and returned one of the doors.  Here's the funniest part - we don't remember which door we got.  I cannot tell you, right now, who "won" and whether we got Door A or Door B.  Again, super important argument.

And yet, here we are.  We're still loud and fun (or obnoxious, whatever)...just at tea parties under the kitchen table now, not sorority socials or field parties.  We're still compassionate...probably more so with other people than with each other, though. (Oh, you had a long day?  So sorry...are you going to change that poop diaper while I'm cooking dinner?)  We should work on that.  That's the beauty of it though, we have a lot to work on but we're not scared to take it on anymore.  We had to quit trying to force everything onto the other one, and just grow up together.  That blog post, 10 Tips on How To Fight Fair?  Yeah, that's all from experience....with doing the WRONG things.  If you don't try - even if you mess up - then you don't learn. 

In my opinion, the honeymoon phase propaganda is a crock.  There's nothing magical about learning all of each other's annoying habits and having to share your stuff...every day.  But if you make it through to the other side, then...you've earned your anniversary, my friend. 

So here's to sleepovers with my best friend every night for the rest of my life!  (Even if he does have a really annoying habit of yanking the comforter off of me while he's sleeping.)

♥M

Another Crazy Love Story (Part I)

Part 1: So I met this guy...

February is a special month to me. (No, not because of Valentine's Day...but I DO love chocolate...)  In February 2004, the planets lined up just right for me to meet someone that turned my whole world upside down.

It was my freshman year of college and I was meeting friends to go out. My girlfriend, Katie, brought her boyfriend, Josh. Josh brought some arrogant guy that way too into his car. His name was James. Our initial encounter included me almost backing into his super cool car...then running over his foot when he got out to see if I'd hit it. I know, I know...you're jealous of my super smooth flirting skills.

Our initial assessments of each other, ("She is so stuck up, dude." "He really thinks he's something,  huh?") did not do anything to deter our fate. We ended up being forced into awkward conversation after finding ourselves alone while everyone else was mingling. That turned into an all night conversation from which no one could tear us away from, and yet we were still loathe to admit that we were in any way attracted to each other.  That didn't stop us from simultaneously harassing Katie in the weeks to come for assistance in "running into" each other again.

We ended up dating. He met my parents.  They were not amused by my new "phase." In their defense, my dating history consisted of 4 years with Mr. All-American. Y'know - straight A's, straight-laced, good-looking guy, played football, went to church every week.  They were unprepared for tattoos, a lip ring, ear plugs, a loud car, and smooth talking tall, dark, and handsome. My dad's career in juvenile corrections made him wise enough to know that preventing me from knowing he even had an opinion was the safest way to help my "phase" pass quickly. My mother,  on the other hand, has always believed that the world is a better place all around when she shares her opinions. (THAT'S where I get that from...) And share them she did. Loudly. And often.

And yet, by 2007, wedding bells were ringing and he was a well-loved part of the family. I had suffered through his ex-girlfriend drama, and he had suffered through my mother. He had suffered through me being in a sorority, and I had suffered through his jealousy.  We both had suffered through spending a small fortune on gas and losing sleep while we traveled back and forth from home and my university to see each other regularly. None of it mattered. We were in love, and not the fairy tale kind - the messy, impractical, die-before-letting-go kind.

Ten years later, we still laugh at how it all turned out. We look at our kids and think "if you had told us about this THEN...we never would have believed it."  But our love is still messy and impractical.  We would still die before letting go of it.

We don't compare ourselves to other people because that's not "apples to apples." No two marriages are the same and mine doesn't have to look like yours to be a good one. I sincerely hope no one compares theirs to ours because you'd go crazy trying to figure out how two border-line Italian lawyers like us make it work year after year.

So sometimes when you're staring at the hubs, picturing his head bursting into flames...all you gotta do is remember that first kiss, and it takes you back enough to kill the urge.

Here's to the growing process that is love!  Now, go smooch your hubs!

♥M

The Greatest Love Story of [All] Time

 

When I took my grandfather to visit my grandmother today, I decided that instead of talking about people he didn't remember and things he had forgotten, we would talk about the one thing that means the most to him - my grandma.  I asked them to tell me how they met, dated, and got married.  This is their love story of 1959 - starring a pretty nursing school student named Myra, and an oh-so charming road design engineer named Charles.

*******************

How did you and grandma meet?
 

Grandpa: I had a date with a girl named Nancy.  I went to her house to pick her up, but she wasn't there.  Her dad said that she had already left on a date with another guy!  It made me hot, but I don't suppose I cared too much one way or another about it.  So my buddy Edsel and I decided to head to Colonial Heights - to Lakeview where the swimming hole and dance pavilion was.  When I got there, I saw a girl named Vicky that I went to high school with, so I started talking to her.  There was a girl sitting on the bench next to her, and I said to her, "Hey, you're in my seat."
 

Grandma: And I looked at the bench and said, "I don't see your name on it."
 

Grandpa: We couldn't stand each other!

  

Grandma: I didn't care if I ever saw him again.  I thought he was a big smartass.

  

Grandpa: That's funny, because that's what *I* thought!  So anyway, then she went around town telling everyone how much she looooved me and....

  

Grandma: I did not!  You had your friend, Edsel, call my roommate, Vicky, and harass her to bring "that girl" out again!

 

 Grandpa:  Well you came!

  

Why did you go if you didn't like him?!

 

 Grandma: For the hell of it.

  

Grandpa: So then 3 months later, we got married.

  

What?!  How did you go from not being able to stand each other - to getting married...in 3 months?!

 

 Grandpa: There was just something about her!

 

 Grandma: Yeah, you'd met your match.

 

 Well, where did you get married?

 

 Grandpa:  My buddy, Edsel, drove us down to North Carolina to find a preacher. 

 

 Grandma:  You had to be 21 in the state of Virginia to get married without parental consent.  I was only 19 and he was 20.  I knew my parents wouldn't give consent because I was in nursing school.  So I put on a white dress and white heels and we rode to North Carolina.

  

Where did your parents think you were?

 

 Grandma: We told them we were going to the zoo for the day.

 

 Wait...so your mama thought you were going to the zoo in a white dress and heels?

  

Grandpa: Probably not - that's just how dumb we were.

  

Grandma:  I wanted to be married in a church, so we drove until we saw a little Baptist church and stopped.  It was a Saturday, but the secretary was there and she called the preacher.  He was in the field picking butter beans, but he stopped, and drove up, and married us.

  

Then what did you do?

  

Grandpa:  I had to pay a $5 fee!

 

 Grandma:  Then we went home.  So broke we couldn't even afford a Pepsi or an order of fries on the way!

  

Grandpa:  You had me!  What'd you need food for?!

  

Did you tell anyone you got married?

  

Grandma:  No, Edsel was the only one who knew.  You had to live in the dormitory while you went to nursing school, no matter what; and you had to ask permission to get married.  I asked after the fact and got permission, but I still had to drop out because I found out I was pregnant.  At that time, you had to spend 6 months in Philadelphia for an affiliate program with the psych hospital there, and I knew I couldn't do that with a baby.

 

 What about your parents?  When did you tell them?

  

Grandpa:  I don't remember when we told mine...

  

Grandma:  I don't know when we told his parents, but I remember that Grandpa talked me into calling my mama and telling her about a month later.

  

What did you do after you left school?

 

 Grandma: We lived with your Grandpa's parents for a few months and then rented a little apartment of our own.  I had your Aunt Terri; and then a year later, had your daddy.

  

Grandpa: We ate a lot of pork-n-beans and potatoes, that's what!

 

 But I know you were a nurse, so how did you get your LPN if you dropped out of school?

 

 Grandma:  I went to work for Dr. Cohen Sr. when your daddy was 6 months old and he encouraged me to to take advantage of a new state program that offered the LPN board testing if you had been in nursing school - even if you didn't finish.  There was another girl in the office who was taking it, but she didn't want me to know about it, so she hadn't told me.

 

Why wouldn't she want you to know about it?!

  

Grandma: Probably because you had to get a 300 to pass and she got a 301...but then I got over a 700.

 

 Go on, Grammy!

  

Grandma:  I'm not bragging!  I just borrowed books and studied for a few months.

  

So whatever happened to Nancy?

  

Grandpa:  I have no clue.

 

 Grandma:  She sent some love letters to your Grandpa a few months after we got married and I called her house about it!  Her daddy answered the phone and said she wasn't there.  I told him to kindly ask his daughter to stop sending my husband love letters.  He claimed his daughter would never do such a thing and I told him he was welcome to come 'round and read them!  ...I had some hell in me when I was younger.

 

 One last question...if you lived in the dorms at nursing school...and Grandpa lived at home...and you didn't tell anyone you were married...how do you explain Aunt Terri?!

 

 Grandma: Well...........your Grandpa's parents went for long Sunday drives.  And we didn't go with them.

  

Gotcha.

 

 Grandma:  This isn't going in the church newsletter or anything is it?

 

 Nope.  Just on the Internet.

  

Grandma:  Oh, alright then.

 

 

♥M