500 Days

This is a not so happy milestone. Today marks the 500th day since we put our house on the market.

500.

That's almost half of Carter's life, and significantly more than Avery's whole life.

That's 500 days of anxiety over what's next, stress/trying to have faith and find peace, being show ready with a toddler and a pregnant mama, a toddler and a newborn, a toddler, a baby and two parents working full time, now we're pretty much at toddler and preschooler. I don't even want to think about how many strangers have been in my home, judging my belongings and decor and probably thinking our very protective dog was going to lunge through the glass door and eat them. A year of a baby sleeping in our room because she's too loud for her brother and he's too loud for her.

I honestly cannot even begin to count how many pieces of paper we've had to read, sign, and return. Probably 200, maybe more. By the time this is all over, we're going to have a lot more grey hairs and some serious carpal tunnel. That is, if it ever ends! Someday, maybe. Some people throw housewarming parties. We'll throw a "thank God we're finally getting the heck out of this house!" party.

12 Months of Avery

Dear Avery,

Today you are one year old. Happy birthday, precious baby girl.

I feel slightly teary as I sit down to write this. I truly cannot believe that it’s already been a year since you were born. On the other hand, I can’t remember what life was like without you.

You are such an incredible blessing. You complete our family just perfectly. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I literally could not breathe. I was overwhelmed, looking at our very full life, the wild 14 month old running around like a madman, the house that seemed to be slowly getting even smaller. I didn’t know how I would do it, how we could juggle all of this. I spent the first 17 weeks of my pregnancy so very sick, throwing up all over the country, sometimes 10, 20, 30 times a day. Then slowly, my excitement grew. I always knew I loved you, and that eventually it would be impossible to imagine like without you, but over the weeks and months, as I began to feel your kicks and hear your heartbeat, I felt the assurance that everything was going to be just fine. I was so excited when I found out you were a girl. Even after four ultrasounds confirming you were a girl, I still was afraid to believe it. We planned for your arrival and sorted through all the logistics and concerns. Then you were born. I loved you so much from that very first moment I saw you (approximately 30 seconds after I started pushing), even in the flurry of commotion that was your birth, I felt like the world stopped when the nurse put you in my arms and you nuzzled into my chest. You didn’t even cry, you had adorable little squeaks and sighs and gazed up at me with such beautiful, wondering eyes.

And here we are, a year later. You are all over the place, taking lots of steps but not quite walking. You are loud and full of zeal. You are independent. Even as you’re learning to walk, you don’t want us to hold your hands, you want to do it all on your own. You are very much a mama’s girl, that was your first word and sometimes you refuse to let anyone else hold you. You follow me around the house like an adorable puppy. You cry the second I leave the room and squeal the moment I come back. You are a charmer of all, but you’re also shy, burying your head in my shoulder as you smile at strangers. You have the loudest, most furious cry! And it’s the same cry for serious times and injuries as it is for things like running out of cheerios. You love dogs (or, as you call them, “gogs!”). You have delightful quirks that crack us up, like chewing on door hinges. You are obsessed with your brother’s toys, especially trains and cars, and ransacking any cupboard you can get your little hands in to. You think your brother is the funniest person ever. As you grow, you’re playing more together and becoming buddies, but you’re not afraid to take a toy back from him and you hold your own with him. You love music, almost as much as you love to dance.

You are tough and independent. I’ve known that all along. You proved that even today. You got sick over the weekend, and aside from some crankier than normal moments, you kept right on going. After a trip to the doctor today, we found out you actually have double ear infections. I knew you had a mind of your own even when I was pregnant, when you hid on the ultrasound and punched and kicked away the sensors. Then when my pregnancy never seemed to end, when I was still very pregnant almost a week late with no sign of the end coming soon, and then when labor was induced and you proceeded to enter the world in the fastest birth ever. I knew it when the lactation consultant called you feisty at six days old. You continued to show that independent streak when you refused to sleep through the night at 11 months, despite our best efforts. I love that about you, especially since you are also so sweet and cuddly (on your own terms, of course).  Although I may really regret saying this, I pray that you continue to embrace that independent side, that you’re always empowered to make your own (hopefully wise) decisions and be whoever you want to be.

We have had a wild year, full of an almost unbelievable assortment of events and every emotion possible. I’m glad I didn’t know everything that was in store for us this year, and even more thankful that we’ve made it through. You have taught me so much, baby girl. You would think I would have learned it all in your brother’s first year of life, but apparently I still had a lot to learn about trust and peace and joy and letting the small things go. I still have a lot to learn, so please be patient and please be kind.

We had a party for your last weekend to celebrate your first birthday, and also, more subtly, to commemorate the fact that we all survived the last year. The theme was rainbows and sunshine, which I chose because it fits you so well. You are full of life and color, and so happy and cheerful. At several points your dad asked me why I was devoting so much time and energy thinking about your party. I think it’s because I want you to have the best of everything in life.

I am so incredibly blessed to be your mother. My heart truly overflows with love for you, my sweet girl. 

Happy birthday, Avery.

So much love,

Mama

Measures of love

Last night, in the middle of dinner, Carter asked how much we love him. We have various answer to this, including as much as the whole sky, SO SO SO much, to the moon and back, etc.

Later, I asked Carter how much he loves me. His answer? 20 pounds.