My Morning Bird

So, today Matt and I celebrate our 4^th Wedding Anniversary. These four years have been a whirlwind for us. We met in July of 2009 right after I moved to town to try my hand in grad school. By late December we were engaged and married the next September in 2010. Days after our marriage, we learned our family of two was soon to be a family of three – talk about jumping right in to family life!
Baby girl threw us into a dizzying world of parenting that we were shell-shocked with, but I think we handled pretty well…after we got our sea legs back. We lost our second baby when our first child was 11 months old. But then we were blessed with our second daughter in May of 2013 and are now expecting a surprise bundle this late Fall.
Beside all of the family additions, we’ve been on the move: Matt moved from his apartment to mine after we married; we moved across the hall to a bigger apartment when I was 6+ months pregnant with our first child; we moved across town to a nicer apartment a year later – at least we stayed there until after our second child was born; and we purchased our first home and moved in to it this past March.
Oh, and I quit grad school, got a job, and then switched jobs; Matt switched jobs in the same company, quit, went to school, quit school, got a different job and has since moved up.
We are ready for a slow-down, but know it’s a ways off. But that’s okay.
Of course, I had dreams and hopes and excitement the day I took hold of Matt’s hand four years ago, but I never imagined the fast paced life we’d have and all that we’d cram into 48 short months.



"B" is for Buse ... or baby



 So, you guys: this guy I married is pretty cool. He met me, loved me, taught me to love – real, honest, soul-baring love - to be honest with myself, and has challenged me to be a better person (whether he knows it or not). He’s got a knack for handling impatient and short-tempered me and is pretty awesome and keeping me grounded and my head on my shoulders. Nothing melts my heart more than seeing him play with our girls and hearing their peals of laughter. He’s a good dad. He’s my bestest friend ever. He’s a wonderful man to go through this whirlwind of a life together. I like him a lot!
Fun fact: we’ve seen each other every day since we were engaged that December of 2009. How awesome is that?!

 

What do you think we're looking forward to?

 

So heard this song today, Morning Bird by Forest Sun, and I got to thinking that Matt is my morning bird. His song, our song, is sweet and perfect for us and we sing it for our children. Even though we lead a tiresome and non-stop-always-rushing life, this is truly the "sweetest song I ever heard."

Happy Anniversary, My Love. Here's to many more!

Heavy Load

My friend Kara wrote a blog post today that speaks volumes to me. I feel like she got inside my head and wrote down what was plodding around on my heart and in my mind.

Lately…more like months and months and months…I’ve been feeling like I need to just “RAWRRRR!!!” I feel like I’ve lost my way and the spunk. My exhaustion is so much that I feel most of the time that if one more thing was to happen outside of our tight schedule I might just crumble into a million pieces on the floor. And then my lovely husband would have to come along and sweep me up and keep all of my pieces together. Thank you, Love, for already doing this multiple times.

So, so, so many stresses have popped up since late last Fall and my already exhausted mind and body have not dealt with them very well. The other day, my youngest (who happens to drool like she’s a faucet) was put in the car to go to daycare without a bib. I “rawr’d” and made her jump. What the heck?! It’s a silly bib. I have nearly lost the ability to keep my focus on what’s important here. Where is that fun, funny, silly, happy woman that I used to know? I’ll tell you: she’s hiding away from anything that might cause her to flip out. She’s hiding from the stresses of leaving a day care due to unsafe practices, moving (and all the lovely surprises and set-backs that go along with owning a home), having the new day care close due to illegal goings-on in the facility, searching with little luck for a new day care, and quickly oh so quickly having my personal time from work slipping away. All of this as our months until our new addition to the family arrives are rushing by.

We’ve chosen this life. I’ve chosen this life. And as Kara says in her post, it’s not easy. There is a lot of waiting for the pay off, and focusing on that is proving to be difficult. I love her personal suggestions for how she’ll get back to herself. I’m going to follow her suggestions: Communication (reach out to those that help you feel happiness and love. Don’t keep “it” all in and not talk to close friends and family); Quiet Time (take some much-needed alone time, pray, meditate, take care of myself); Manage Expectations (so we are surviving, not thriving yet. So accept it and understand it, and try not to beat myself up over not being that “perfect” everything all the time); Foster Joy (seek out the joy in life and allow the beauty of my life to sink in).

So, my heavy load might not really be that heavy for some people, but it sure feels like it. It’s felt like it for some time. My story is not unique with the pressures of adulthood, or even parenthood. But they are mine, and I must choose how this heavy load affects me.

Third Time Really is a Charm

Matt and I got married on September 4^th and by the beginning of October we learned that we were already expecting our first addition to the family!  Wowza – what a way to kick off life as a newly married couple. We were pretty excited, to say the least.

After six months of horrid sickness finally ending, I finally felt able to really bond with this little life. We found out we were to have a girl and I was over the moon in love with her. I had grand ideas of our life together after her birth and all of her future milestones. I sobbed over the fact that I knew I’d have to take her to a sitter or have someone other than me watch her day in and day out. I begged and begged for us to find a way for me to not have to return to the dreaded work place and not observe every blink of an eye or twitch of a finger each and every day.

When she was finally here I had some of the biggest feelings I’ve ever had in my life. I had always heard people say that the love for a child is deeper and different than any other love out there. This is most definitely true for me. I have adored our three years together. When I see pictures of her from the past I get all nostalgic and remember how tiny she was then – I want to scoop her up and cuddle her all over again. I used to be pretty emotional with each milestone. I remember while I was on maternity-leave she turned 4 weeks old. I read something about baby development and how she was no longer considered a “newborn”. I cried over that! My baby was already growing too fast and I wanted to have more time to hold on to each and every precious moment.

Now as she’s growing and developing more and more with each passing week, I rejoice in her abilities and changes. I still have my sweet toddler that needs me to hold her. Sometimes during mass she’ll want me to hold her the entire time. I’ll soak it up! Someday she’ll be a too-cool-for-mom tween or teenager and maybe not want me to hold her.

In the middle of the night last night she came to my side of the bed and I pulled her in to snuggle. I have no idea how long she was with me, but during those moments she kept hugging me and grabbing my arms to have me hug her. Then after a few moments of silence she very clearly said, “I want to go back to my own bed.” She said it with such clarity that you’d not think she was just 3 years old. I smiled to myself in the dark and placed her back in her bed. I was happy knowing that at the ripe old age of 3 she knows she can come to me at any time. And my arms will forever be open to snuggle or hold, or whatever she needs.

So, my little girl; my Gabbers; Gabs; Gabi-goo; princess; has turned 3. Some of her favorite things are running in circles while singing made-up songs, spinning around and giggling, cutting paper into small pieces, tearing paper into smaller pieces, coloring, reading books, singing all the songs she knows over and over, showing people how to do things (with a temper a lot of the time – whooo! She’s so much like me with that Irish temper), holding hands, taking wagon rides, swinging, building things with blocks and Legos, snatching my phone and taking “selfies”, her baby sister, and laughing. I love her laughter!! You guys, you need to hear her giggles and her boisterous laughs – if ever I have a sad day or a frustrating day, all I need usually is to hear her sweet peals of laughter to know that all really is right with the world.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!


Oh, and here are some snapshots of her over these last few years. I have buckets of photos so I’ve tried my darnedest to only pick a few of my favorites. But who am I kidding – if I let myself I’d probably be THAT person showing you every single little picture I have of her. If this were life pre-smartphones and pictures online, I’d be the gal with a bazillion photos in my purse, just waiting to show this cutie off to y’all!

Proud papa holding Gabriella Grace ~ 6/9/11

 

Successfully walked across the room all by herself!



She woke up on her own this morning and had her pals right along with her

Reading one of my childhood books

Reading again - on her toddler bed, 2nd birthday

I love this smile!!

Showing me her artistic skills

Ready for a day out in the sun - she picked the sunshiny-est outfit she had

Taking a rest from playing outside

Gabi's 3rd Birthday, with one of her favorite books

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Same Rainbow’s End

I’m going to say the same cliché comment that everyone makes: I can’t believe my baby is turning one year old!
But seriously, where did the time go? My sweet Ivy is turning 1 on Sunday. She gives the best snuggles, the best smiles and grins, has the best baby laughter, and the most in-depth eye contact from a baby that I’ve ever known. She can brighten my day with one crooked little grin. We prayed and prayed for her. She is our rainbow baby. Have you ever really sat and looked at a rainbow? There are definitely distinct colors, but they run together at the same time. You can’t really see the beginning or the end, but they are beautiful and so special. They only happen at a precise moment with all of the right elements lining up at the right time. This is how it is with Ivy - special, unique, beautiful.
Taken from a quote I saw once, Gabi taught me how to be a mother and Ivy has taught me (albeit very slowly) how to be a better mother. Most of this past year has been a fog for both Matt and me, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I was nervous that the strong and deep love I had for Gabi wouldn’t leave much room for that kind of love for another child. I was so wrong! Ivy has opened up our hearts even further than we thought was possible. I feel that she’s my huckleberry friend. I love her so much!
Some of her favorite things are rocking out to music – literally. That girl can rock back and forth like there’s no tomorrow, and giggle while doing it, which makes me giggle quite a bit. She loves her big sister, who loves her to pieces. I have no doubt that they will be best friends. Gabi can do no wrong in Ivy’s eyes. And Ivy is just about the best thing in Gabi’s opinion…other than milk. Ha!

Here are some snapshots I took of her each month list last year. What a difference a year can make!

 

Two days after her arrival

 

 

Two days before the big One Year Birthday!

 

Unexpected Expectation

What a long several months it’s been! We bought our first home in January, but didn’t move in until March. March-April 2014: Oh, what a start to what seemed like never-ending madness!  I got sick at the beginning of March but never seemed to bounce back. A few weeks later and a few days before we planned on painting some of the walls in our new house, I got the idea that maybe I should take a test to see if we were expecting again. Sure enough, that little test told no lie. So, I didn’t help paint. Instead I packed. And packed. And packed some more. Then moving week arrived. I felt worthless with moving things and cleaning anything. And I felt horrid. I just wanted to sit down and cry at the amount of house work piling up in front of me before we were even settled in our new home – the home we had been pining over for 2 + years.

Finally, we got most of our stuff put away. April came and then our oldest got sick for an entire week. A couple weeks later, our youngest got sick, and then I got sick.  The sickness just would not go away! And then our oldest got sick again. When in the trenches of non-stop sickness and trying to clean germs for over two weeks, it’s so easy for perspective to fly out your new home’s windows. I was not in a good frame of mind to say the least. I missed too many hours of work and was rapidly depleting my already too-small bank of time for time off from work. I couldn’t see the here and now – all I kept thinking about was prenatal appointments, doctor appointments for the girls, and the impending maternity leave at the end of the year. The leave that I’d be lucky to have 2 weeks of time saved up for. I was freaking out and ticked off and sick and…I could go on. I was not in a good way at all.

On top of dealing with the sickness, wouldn’t you know it? One thing after the other seemed to go wrong or need fixed RIGHT NOW with the house. I started to think we made a mistake. Maybe we should have just stayed crammed tight in a two bedroom apartment for the rest of our lives. That way maintenance would take care of everything and blah blah blah blah.

During this time, we found our youngest has a developmental delay. So she’ll be getting therapy and I have no clue where to find the time from work to get her to those sessions. Thank goodness they can be held at daycare. But TIME, friends; precious time seems to be slipping faster and faster away from us.

All of this may seem like the typical stresses of being a parent of two kids under 3 years old and moving. But then there was real darkness on my heart and in my mind. Two years ago we were expecting our second child but she/he left us. The days leading up to the loss and after were a nightmare. I still feel deep sadness and pain from it. Last year at this time I was just days away from delivering so I was much more at ease. But this year, we were still so early on in our pregnancy that I just knew that all the stupid and annoying stresses of late surely have made our babe leave, too. My hair started to shed – a LOT, like as in post-partum (or as it did after we lost our babe two years ago). I had bad cramps, but not too bad. But those cramps were still there, beckoning me to succumb to the old emotions from two years ago. Besides, all of my symptoms just stopped. It was like a switch was flipped: no more extreme exhaustion, no more or very little nausea, no more food aversions. You may be thinking: isn’t that a GOOD thing? Doesn’t that happen in the second trimester?? It hadn’t happened to me in our past pregnancies. So I didn’t think of anything good – I just thought, “Oh, great. Here we go again.” Every day I was waiting for the axe to drop. I just knew I was destined to lose this babe, too. A friend lost her baby at 12 weeks. I bawled - hard. I knew the emotions I felt and was sharply reminded of how scared I was to relive May of 2012.
Then we had our 14 week regular checkup. I was of course so nervous about hearing no heartbeat. I could have thrown up from being so nervous.

Thank God that Matt was able to take some time to come with me. I just couldn’t lie there on the table, not hearing a heartbeat by myself.

Alas! Two seconds after the wand was on my tummy that glorious little heartbeat was heard. I didn’t cry tears of joy, but burst out in laughter. JOY!! Oh loveliness of life!

I hadn’t honestly laughed in weeks. It felt amazing to have pressure and stress lifted off my shoulders. I had tried to let things go. I truly did try. But my heart was heavy and I couldn’t lift it up on my own.

Sure there are going to be other stresses and burdens the rest of this pregnancy and after, but I feel so much better knowing that this little girl or boy is going to be with us.

Too often I have expectations – mostly of myself and how my life should be. I then expect things to go so badly once they don’t go as I expect. I need to learn to stop expecting so much. I must learn to let it go. After all, I don’t really have control of many things, right? But I can embrace and adore my life as much as I want. And I suspect that if I let it go and stop expecting “this” or “that”, then I will be able to take time to smell the roses. And roses are so sweet and such a special gift from a very special Mother.

Happy Mother’s Day to all moms and dads: I know I couldn’t be half the mother I am without my best friend and husband!

Getting Polished

The other day, Matt and I were talking about how old we were. Ha! Old? We sure feel old many days with the lack of sleep little ones. As so many wives say, I mentioned how I thought I’d become less polished and run down a bit. I mean, look at my hands! My lovely hands that used to be so smooth and soft, and nails that looked near perfect all the time. Now they are so dry they crack and my nails – ooh boy! They need some help. But I do what I can when I can.

We both feel the age creeping into our joints and cringe when we hear cracking and popping from time to time. I found my first ever white hair a few months ago, too! I snapped that baby right out, you can be sure of it. And if we could just get a little, tiny, smidgen, or bit more sleep I’m sure we’d feel like our old selves (pun totally intended), right?

And ladies, don’t you wonder deep down sometimes if how we change registers with our men? I don’t tend to dwell on it, but during this conversation I started to wonder what Matt thought now – now that I’ve delivered two children and lost another. Those stresses, both wonderful and horrible, wear a gal down.

But then he turned and looked straight at me. He asked if I had read “My Antonia”. I said that I had started but didn’t have time to finish it. I never have time to read anymore! He said that the end of the book has Jim return to visit Antonia a couple decades after he last saw her. He was nervous at what he’d see in her. Yes, she was worn down by time and raising many children – her hands were older, her face, eyes, everything had aged. But he still couldn’t help but see how beautiful she was. She was more beautiful to him than ever before.

At this moment, I stopped worrying about how dry my hands had become from washing our never-ending supply of bottles and sippy cups and baths. I remembered why. Why I love being a mom, and more importantly why I am so darn lucky to have My Love as my husband.
So, I’m going to keep on getting worn down. But you know what? I don’t really think I’m getting worn down. I’m going to start thinking that I’m being polished by my little babies and time instead.