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24 weeks
I think I need to get my head in the game here. In roughly 4 months, I’ll have another baby living at my house. My baby. Needing a lot of attention and diapers and clothes and boobs and all of the things that newborns are so good at demanding. I might be the only one, or maybe this is the way it is for everyone, but I find that this pregnancy is going so fast that I cannot keep up. I thought it felt weird to flip the calendar to second trimester, and in a few weeks, I will welcome the third one. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Time is this weird concept that is not realistically evolving for me lately. Today I turn 24 weeks, and last night, we took this photo.
Isn’t he a good helper? Jude is getting used to the idea of a baby around, and he talks about her independently without my asking or urging which is so fun. Still though, I feel like there is a lot to do. I got together with some friends over the weekend, and we only see each other every few months, so I received a couple of little gifts for Norah. There are tiny pink things! And monogrammed things! In my house! And where to put them, I don’t know.
I know we have time to get the nursery done, but I also want it finished before I am in my last month because I am a control freak and want to help out with all of it and get things set up on my own before I am too large or incapacitated to do it all. This means I have something like 12 or so weeks to get it done which is tons of time until I think about the mountains of things that reside in the closet of the guest bedroom that will soon be a nursery. And the furniture in there. And the white walls that will leave soon. And the furniture we need to purchase. And everything else there is to do. I thought nesting didn’t start until late in the game, but my cleaning and purging urges are out of control lately. At 7:58am this past Monday, I was cleaning out my freezer and pantry.
And then there is the realization that this baby does have to come out. Preferably from my vagina. And I am 100% certain in my convictions, but old fears from the last round are creeping up this week, and it’s scary.
[Side note: it might be my faulty memory, but I am fairly sure at this point in my first pregnancy I was in prenatal yoga and reading lots of parenting books and looking at a crib that already stood assembled in my house and feeling serene and confident in my ability to birth and completely ready for a new arrival. My, how time changes things.]
This post seems worthless and sort of a rant, but it feels good to write things down, no? Now off to get busy. I’ve got some cleaning to do.
the recap
We are home and becoming settled into real life again. Aside from some really early wake-ups (downstairs with coffee by 5am), the adjustment hasn’t been too bad. I love how you forget any bumps and bruises associated with traveling once you get home to reminisce. It all just becomes fuzzy and perfect when you are far away again and in your own kitchen, looking at the same walls you always have.
We made so many good memories on this trip.
I observed a family dining near us during breakfast one day, a college-aged kid and presumably his parents. For a second, I thought won’t that be nice. As I wiped spilled yogurt off my toddler’s face and hurriedly downed my food so we could exit before he got restless, they talked and relaxed and sipped coffee leisurely while planning the day over maps and guidebooks. No doubt there will be things that are easier when I am at that point in my life.
But seeing new places through little eyes has its own charm, too.
The trip was refreshing and such a fitting way to begin a year that holds many changes for us. I love being reminded there is so much beauty in the world, countless different people, and a million different things I have yet to see and discover. A sense of possibility is a lovely thing, such a necessary thing for me.
I’m happy to be home, too. It feels good to settle in to your house when you’ve been away. Groceries have been replenished; laundry is almost done. Old routines are emerging, and they feel really good. There’s a comfort in what we know.
Pieces of where I’ve been stick with me though. Going some place new always inspires me to take home a little piece of something different and stir it in with my life at home. You know how it is. A week at the beach reminds you that a Tuesday night margarita is a good idea. Trips to NYC leave you energized and humming show tunes in the kitchen. A week in Belgium has you lingering longer in the beer aisle. Seattle always leaves me dusting off the espresso machine when I return. My study abroad in England gave me a permanent preference for milk in my tea. Paris reminds me that dessert is a necessary thing. That art is everywhere. That I really like scarves. That this song can cheer me up in an instant. And that life is best sprinkled with good food and conversation.
I love the idea that I’ll change and evolve again and again as the years go by and I visit new places and meet new people. But I also vow to find a little of this inspiration without paying for a plane ticket. It’s everywhere really – good films, new music, conversations with friends or strangers, books. I don’t have to travel far to find it if I’m looking.
the last day
The last travel day somewhere is always a little weird. It’s such a mix of wanting to squeeze the last drop and feeling anxious for home and the familiar. It’s been a relaxing trip in many ways. No hurried visits to museums or historical checklist. Just enjoying a city that is so different from home.
There has been lots of lazy cafe time.
Yesterday we strolled in Luxembourg Gardens, and the sun felt so lovely. I’m proud of myself for enduring 10 days of freezing temperatures out and about, but I’m ready for warmth. Jude called to the ducks and loved having the space to run. And it’s a sight I missed last time I was here, so it was great to go. We cut through the Latin Quarter on the way back, and I bought a couple of French children’s books, one for Norah called “Caroline et la Galette des Rois.” It’s old with super cute illustrations, and it’s all about Kings Day and the cake tradition that accompanies it. We got to be a part of this last night when we dined with some friends which I’ll explain in a minute. I can’t wait to explain to Norah one day that she and I had a part in what the book describes.
So once we were here, we were brought to some old friends through the glory of Facebook, and it turned out that Scott has an old high school friend who is now living here only about 15 minutes from where we are. She has been here for 8 years and invited us to meet her husband and baby at their place last night over dinner. The apartment was charming, the food good, the conversation lovely. Jude played with the French bebe (ha) and was grateful for new toys and space to be active. Homestyle dining was so appreciated after 9 days of hotels and restaurants. It was such a lovely evening, and we returned really late on the Metro, but Jude was a trooper and as always, excited to ride the “train.”
It was great to see more of what “real life” is like here, and it made expat life seem exotic but almost easy in ways. Still though, as much as I love to travel, I’m a home girl at heart.
My sweet grandmother took a bad fall down a flight of steps on Sunday, and there’s nothing life threatening, but many broken bones and a long recovery ahead. A surgery last night on both her arms and wrists had me super anxious, and I am ready to be home where I can help and tend and cook and do all the things family does when it’s needed. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers please.
So here we are with about 12 hours left to enjoy Paris and then we leave for the airport early tomorrow. Plans? Stroll a bit, shop, dine, eat too many pastries. Au revoir, friends. See you on the other side of the ocean soon. Think there’s still time for another tarte aux pommes? Of course. 
phone dump and stream of consciousness, Parisian edition
It is cold here for my Georgia bones, but the sun is helping us out a bit when we aren’t on old, shaded streets.
We meandered through Montmarte yesterday morning, stopping for the Sacre Coeur and a few street musicians and lunch and a carousel ride. So many steps, of course, and my pregnant hips were aching so much last night. It was worth it though, I think.
We made an ill-timed trip to the Eiffel Tower last night, too. Not bad timing except that I had all these ideas for photos that would happen, but Jude napped until 5, and I know better than to mess with a toddler and his sleep. So by the time we were bundled up and off the metro, it was really dark. Too dark for the iPhone unfortunately, but a couple might have made it on my real camera. He insisted “a monster” lived at the top, and I didn’t argue.
This morning we stumbled on Victor Hugo’s house in the Marais, and we were equally happy to stumble on a park with a sandbox. Jude yelled, “I wanna play dirt, mama!!”
It’s funny the things we are indulging him with. I’m happy it’s a city I have visited before, so I don’t feel I’m missing out on much really. I’ve done the big museums and the historical sights. But the carousels? They’re a first for me. (And OMG do the French love their carousels. It’s crazy how many there are.)
I’ve had my own indulgences, too. I had a Nutella crepe with lunch today. And tonight we’ll wear mittens and hats again to do some souvenir shopping. More soon, reader.
the real Paris
I am certainly not complaining, people. Because I am on a [mostly] free trip to Paris, and when will that ever happen again? But the first five days were not completely enjoyable. The business district we were in while Scott was working could have been any city really. Just skyscrapers and rushed businessmen and mediocre food.
And me alone with my toddler all day and sometimes at night if work required evening attention. In a place where people seemed both shocked and confused to see a small child. And yes that was every bit as fun as it sounds. Last night, when the work day was over, I was grabbing my coat and shoes and loading Jude in the stroller to get the hell out. We dined on the Champs-Elysees, and had the best food I’ve tasted in months just by stumbling on a random brasserie. How do the French do that? They’ve mastered food in a way we never will.
The reward of my few days alone in the business district is so worth it. Scott didn’t have to work today at all, but by mid-morning, we were packed up and headed out to our new location. The taxi ride felt like fresh air.
So here we are in what finally feels like The Real Paris, and I’m writing with a belly full of Salade Parisienne and the soundtrack of two napping boys in our hotel room. We have no plan for tonight which is perfectly good with me. Tuilerie Garden perhaps. Or somewhere equally as lazy and beautiful.
Plans for the next few days? Eiffel Tower, Musee D’Orsay, the Marais, Centre Pompidou, maybe Montmartre. Just trying to soak it all in and enjoy some last travel moments as a family of three.
I’m realizing I’m pregnant on this trip, in the sense that I cannot really lift things or walk as fast as I’d like or whatever. I’m just past 22 weeks, so it’s where the physical limitations are sinking in a little. All in all, it’s not bad though. Just trying to calm my overly anxious American ways and enjoy the occasional french coffee or white cheese or sip of wine (gasp! My doctor even told me to.) and remember that millions of mothers around the world do the same thing and enjoy healthy pregnancies. In fact, when I look around and think about all of this, I’m realizing we are the unhealthy ones in so many ways.
Here it is bread at every meal. Pastries every morning. Sidewalks smelling of cigarette smoke all day long. But they are happy and relaxed and healthy both physically and psychologically in a way I think we will never be.
Oh travel, I love you so. You always show me things I’d never notice otherwise.
More soon, friends. Thanks for reading.
bonjour. we made it.
We’re here safely in Paris! The flight was delayed an hour or so, but Jude did pretty well. I, on the other hand, could not get comfortable. So I felt pretty tired when we landed here on Sunday morning. I joined Jude for an afternoon nap though (an idea I always thought was a sin against jet lag), and after a shower and a walk in some cool air, I was good.
I wasn’t quite sure how a two-year-old who is normally an early bird would deal with such late dinners here, but he’s adjusting like a champ. The late sunrise characteristic of Paris winter is helping him sleep late, and he’s indulging in some marathon naps as well. It’s making for a happy kid when he’s awake though, so I’m letting him sleep when he wants.
We are in the business district until later this week, and then we move to another hotel more central to the city. I start every day with coffee and a croissant and a birds-eye view of the ants walking busily to work outside my window.
This sea of black business suits and hurried pace is so incredibly different from the Paris I remember visiting years ago. No lazy lunches or quiet cafe conversation or iron balconies. It’s all stark and functional and busy. At least to this outsider it seems so.
We are strolling a bit and window shopping and enjoying the food but also spending more time in the hotel than I’d like – at least until Scott gets back in the early evenings. My inability to use the Ergo with a 33 pound toddler at this stage of pregnancy combined with the stairs sprinkled in every Metro station leave me confined to the walkable area outside the hotel. But in ways it’s a nice little vacation before our real vacation begins after the work week, I suppose. I get to read or knit or catch a nap while Jude sleeps in the room which is nice. I think I’m catching up on two years of missed sleep, and my nap-loving pregnant self is happy with that. We’re using the few toys I packed as well. The ziplock full of Legos and hot wheels were a good idea.
All in all, it feels good to breathe on the other side of the ocean for a little while, and I’m counting down the days until the work week ends and we explore some more. I’ll check in later with some more phone photos. We strolled to the Arc de Triomphe last night and ate dinner there. I could see the Eiffel Tower shimmering a little in the distance, but the phone camera didn’t do it justice, and my real camera cord is at home. C’est la vie. We’ll have to wait on the real pictures. I’ll write more soon, friends.
new year
It’s 2012, y’all. When did that happen? It seems like the Y2K nonsense was a few years ago at the most, but I guess time is flying faster than I think. I’m not quite used to writing the date yet, but I’m excited for what the year brings. A new baby of course. And lots of other exciting moments that I can’t predict, I’m sure.
I finished up my 2011 resolution with a few little sewn Christmas gifts that I stuffed in to bags and boxes at the last possible second without taking a real photo. I made yet another car cozy and a few of these little crayon rolls. I put one of the crayon rolls in Jude’s stocking, and now it resides in my purse where it’s already proven useful for entertainment in a tight spot. I think pairing it with a few coloring books is going to be my favorite gift for birthdays this year. So simple and so useful. I also knit these little booties for my cousin’s baby girl who should arrive this month.
Cue the “awwwwww” because they are so unbelievably tiny. And now I want to knit a million things for Norah. Baby projects are so fast, even for a slow knitter like me.
So this year will be nuts and as much as I love the fresh-start feeling of January first, I am not going to aim too high on the resolutions this year. It is not the year to reorganize my entire house or learn a new craft or do anything very time-consuming. I know for sure how overwhelmed I will feel at moments after our new arrival and the crazy task of taking care of two littles instead of only one.
There are so many things I’d like to do and change this year: I want an organized house that runs on a perfect schedule and never gets dirty. I want to simplify almost everything in my life. I want fresh laundry put away in its proper place each day. I want the time and energy to complete creative projects. I want to exercise every day. I want to always have fresh, healthy food on the table for myself and my family. I want to lose the pregnancy weight at a record speed and feel better than ever. I want a lot. And hopefully in the next 365 days, I will have shining moments on all of those feats and I’ll feel that I’m growing better and stronger. But I will soon have two kids under three years old, and I know enough to know that this year might be a time when I need to be gentle on myself.
So when I think about what’s important to me in this season of my life, so to speak, I know I want to focus on slowing down and seeing the good in every day, no matter how hectic or unexpected things become. I enjoyed my 365 project in many ways, and I’ve missed taking photographs. While it’s impossible to actually slow things down, feeling gratitude and stepping back from the moment for a minute are two really good ways to get started on that task. Plus I know I’ll want to take a million photos as the baby arrives anyhow, so my only resolution this year is to take a photo a day and hopefully learn my way around Lightroom a bit. I don’t really edit at all now, except for the occasional cropping. I’d love to know a little more about how to edit properly though.
I started on January first with a picture of Jude’s art desk during naptime when it was undisturbed. The house felt nice and quiet after such a busy couple of weeks, and it felt like a good place to start. It’s not overly symbolic. Just a quiet moment and as good a place to start as any.
I know some of the 300+ photographs will feel special and others won’t. It’s really just the daily practice I’d like to cultivate a bit, and it’s such a monumental year to document with photos. I can start off with a bang, too! In a few days, I’ll have lots to capture on camera.
We are heading to Paris in what will probably be the last tag-along trip for a while. The Husband has work to do there, so I’ll be entertaining myself and Jude for about five days, but then we are following it up with another few days of a real vacation. A last hoorah before life gets a lot busier. I know it’s not the ideal travel situation: I’m sporting a sizable belly, my son is two, and it’s winter. But really it’s an opportunity for [mostly] free travel, and I can’t say no. Croissants! And crepes! And the Eiffel Tower! And cheese! And cafes! Winter or not, pregnant or not, toddler or not, it’s still Paris and one of my absolute favorite places on the globe.
I hesitated a bit about saying something here because I am a little more paranoid these days about announcing when I’m out-of-town since my neighbor’s house was robbed while they were away. In reality though, my readers are mostly fellow thoughtful mamas who don’t know where I live at all or close friends of mine who know me well, so I’m coming clean instead of letting that paranoia dictate what I write about. Plus do you really think I’ll spend ten days there without checking in once or twice? I doubt it. So if you have stumbled across a random mommy blog and you now want to rob my house, be assured I have an alarm system, someone looking after my place frequently while I’m gone, and two very large dogs. And essentially nothing of value except a television with toddler finger prints all over it.
And to the rest of you, happy new year! I hope your 2012 will be full of countless happy moments and new adventures. I’ll check in soon. Au revoir!
Christmas Recap and Post-Holiday Let Down
It’s been such a great Christmas, and we’re still recovering over here. I found myself taking so many mental photographs, wanting to freeze things just for a second. I know these are the days, and I have a boy who gets more fun as the months pass. Christmas really just puts into clearer focus what we know all year. That little joys matter most. That childhood should be savored, and family is where life really happens.
I watched cousins play on Christmas Eve in the same home I’ve spent every one of my Christmas Eves for the past thirty-one Christmases I have existed.
And I learned that Santa really isn’t any less magical when you know the whole story and are running the show for your own little family.
Christmas breakfast feels like perfection with any size crowd, big or small.
And both the best and worst part of all of it is that you wait another year for it all to happen again. And for me, at this season of my life especially, I always wonder what exactly that will look like – next Christmas. With growing children, aging relatives, and what feels like a persistently changing view, I really don’t know what Christmas of 2012 will feel like. And that’s both thrilling and scary, like the unknown always is.
So the rest of this week will have me taking down the decorations, finding places for newly acquired gifts, and looking back on the year behind me. I have so much to be grateful for. And lots more good stuff around the corner, I know. I feel full in the best way, but also in transition. The end of the year always leaves me a little restless and achy like this. Am I the only one? There is so much to think about when you consider where you’ve come from and wonder what’s ahead. I hope I’m ready.
Big day!
There are so many fun and exciting things happening here lately, and I am not always taking the time to post like I should. We took a break from the shopping and baking and wrapping and playing to check in with my doctor for the big 20-week anatomy scan. I’m really at 19 weeks, but they scheduled me a week early since the official 20 week mark falls in the busy holiday week. We were not surprised at all to hear the ultrasound technician say, “It’s a girl!” But that didn’t make it any less exciting.
It’s probably just the timing since this ultrasound is about nine-ish days before mine was in my first pregnancy, but her little profile really does look so different than Jude’s did. This baby wasted no time at all showing us what she was because probably 20 seconds after we started looking in, she did this.
There was lots of other movement, and except for a moment when I had to roll over a bit to make her show us the back of her head and top of her spine, she was really cooperative. I do find myself asking, “Are they sure it’s a girl?” in a way I didn’t with my son. Maybe that’s because you are sort of looking at the absence of something, and not the presence. But she jumped around A LOT during the ultrasound, so I’m feeling pretty sure we have a correct guess here. That first shot was also clear enough, even for my layman eyes, that I think I might have been a bit disappointed if I didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. Her froggy legs jumped around a good bit in that position, and I was thinking I didn’t see anything in between them before the ultrasound tech told us the “official” word.
And all those old wives’ tales about pregnancy? They’ve all been true for me. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but I’ve felt so incredibly different with this pregnancy. My nausea first trimester was much more pronounced. My fatigue lasted longer. My face broke out like an adolescent for three straight months which never happened with my son. My boobs ached so intensely from the very beginning that they convinced me to take a pregnancy test a full week before my period was even due. With my last pregnancy, I needed to shop for larger bras about one month before I delivered, most likely just from general water weight. But with this one? New bras by week eight. It’s like anything hormonal is on overdrive with this pregnancy, and though I spent years assuming I’d have two boys for some reason, I’ve been expecting this girl news since about month two. I’ve heard the saying that girls steal their mother’s beauty during pregnancy, and friends, I am here to tell you that’s true. I look at photos of myself during Jude’s pregnancy, and I was glowing – best skin and hair ever. This go-around, I feel tired and frumpy rather than beautiful. Oh well, small price to pay for a new little life.
In spite of our assurance for months that we were having a girl, there has been much discussion on boy names in this house – primarily just because we absolutely could not settle on one. I had a favorite, and Scott did too, but we didn’t see eye-to-eye. We finally found a common ground with another name we both liked and couldn’t find a middle name that worked with it. A girl name though? I think we’ve been settled since before I even took the home pregnancy test. Funny how that works.
So this is real, folks! I’m having a baby, and she looks healthy, and I’m having a GIRL which will be so different in many ways, but also just the same. I’ve got a million other thoughts swirling in my mind about having a daughter, and I hope to write on those in the coming weeks. For now though, just soaking up the good news and being grateful for a healthy baby kicking in my belly. So much love and anticipation makes for a really great holiday season.
Much love to you and your families as well. I’m off to finish up a few crafty Christmas gifts and cook a little in the next few days. And maybe buy something tiny and pink. Have a happy Christmas!
life lately, according to my phone camera
I need to get back in the habit of using the camera in some everyday moments, but lately it’s just my phone. I can’t believe we are right in the middle of Advent and so close to the end of the year. Life is busy in the best way.
Most of my gifts are wrapped, and I’ve only got two presents left to buy. I’m hoping to finish a couple of things up in the next few days to end up lazing around and watching holiday movies in the days before Christmas.
