20ish weeks

I feel like I have so much catching up to do.  I haven't really written anything about this pregnancy.  It had a rocky start, so I think everything feels a little different because of that.  I think maybe the fact that I'm older (I LOVE it with the midwife refers to the "maternal age" as a thing . . . I'm 35, not 50) and that I'm chasing three kids around contributes to most of the differences.

I mainly just have a lot more pain this time . . . tendon and joint pain all around my belly.  I had very little nausea with the first three pregnancies, but was nauseated constantly for the first 10 weeks of this one.  Of course, I googled the heck out of what that could mean.  As it turns out, it simply means that I'm pregnant.  There were a few days I couldn't even get out of bed because I felt so sick.  Apple slices were the only thing I could eat without feeling sick.

My belly is growing faster than the first three, which is to be expected.  I also started out looking a little pregnant already, so that contributed, I'm sure.  I've developed an aversion to bacon, just like I did with Ben.  Even the smell makes me gag.  I haven't gained as much weight as I had with the other three by this point, but that's bound to change here eventually.

We had our 20 week ultrasound before we left on vacation last week and it was wonderful!  It doesn't matter that it was the fourth time doing this . . . it was still amazing to see the little person growing inside of me.  She looked healthy and perfect.

We brought home cupcakes with PINK frosting to share the news with the kids.  Jack and Ben really wanted a boy, so we weren't sure how they would react to another sister.  Jack said, "We'll probably still love her anyway."  Ben pouted.  They both recovered from their disappointment quickly and are now excited.  Ben even said it would be "nice for Claire to have a little friend."  They started making a list of potential names, the first of which was "Claire, Jr."

Here's a rough photo of my baby bump at 20 weeks.  Pardon the beach hair and blurriness.

 

And proof that I can still see my toes.  This is the only photographic evidence that I was on vacation with my family last week.

A few shots of her beautiful profile.

The tech said she was laying weird and had her feet tucked back into the sac (or something like that).  At first, we were afraid we might not be able to find out her gender, but she finally gave it up.  Here are the best shots she could get of her feet and a few fingers.

We love her so much already!

How I found out I was pregnant with baby #4. Three times.

This is a long post, but it's the true story of baby #4.


THE FIRST TIME:
About a year ago in March, I found out that I was pregnant with baby #4.

A week later, I learned that it was a false alarm.  I won't go into details, because they are humiliating.  But I was not, in fact, pregnant.

That week that I thought that I was pregnant, however, was an emotional roller coaster.  I cried for the first two days.  Kyle and I couldn't talk about it without me crying.  I was panicked about where we'd put the baby, and how we'd afford a baby and what on earth we were going to do with four children.

But as the week went on, we started to figure things out.  People have had a lot more children in houses a lot smaller than ours.  And finances?  They always seem to work out.  Maybe only one of our children will be able to go to college.  The others can learn a trade, am I right?  We were figuring it out.  By the end of the week, my fear had turned to excitement.

Then, on that Friday, I discovered it was a false alarm I was devastated.  I didn't have a miscarriage.  I didn't lose a real baby.  But I did lose something.  Everyone who's ever been pregnant knows that this minute you find out you're pregnant . . . even just a few weeks . . .  you start to make plans.  You start to figure things out.  In your mind?  That baby is as good as born.  I lost the idea of a baby.  Does that make me sound crazy?  Perhaps.  Still . . . it was rough.
I had only told a couple of close friends, and most of them laughed when I told them I wasn't pregnant.  I thought that maybe I'd laugh at myself over it someday (I still can't), but all I could do for about 2 weeks was cry.  March was a bad month.  I was finally getting over the pneumonia, and this happened.  April and May were kind of rough, too.  I cried a lot and didn't want to be around people much.  The whole thing really shook me and left me asking . . . should we have a fourth?

We weren't able to answer that question right away, and I knew it was unwise to jump into a decision like that right away because we were still emotional.  So we decided to wait and see how we felt in the fall.

Fast forward to the fall, and we decided that we were going to see what happened.  If you've followed this blog from the beginning, you might remember that I ovulate 2 - 3 times a year, so it's not like we can really "try."  We just decided to stop taking measures to prevent pregnancy and see where we landed.  In my mind, I had decided that if I wasn't pregnant by Christmas, we'd call it good and our family complete.

I don't think I'd normally share this story, but it's such an important part of getting to where we are now.  If we hadn't had this false alarm, I'm not sure we'd have started thinking about having a fourth baby.  During those months after the false alarm, and maybe even as a result of that week, our desire for another child grew.

THE SECOND TIME:
In December, Kyle was talking to a friend who works for child protective services.  He was telling Kyle about how the foster homes in Jackson County are full and they were using part of the detention center in Pontiac as a foster care facility.  Kyle came home and told me this, and we wondered out loud if maybe that was the route we should be taking.  The very next day I took a pregnancy test (I hadn't had a period since August, so I took tests monthly just to make sure).  Lo and behold, I had a positive pregnancy test.

We decided to tell the kids Christmas day, even though our first appointment wasn't until the day after Christmas.  Kyle and I were both hesitant about this because we've always waited until we've heard the heartbeat to tell people . . . but Christmas seemed like the perfect time, and I've had 3 healthy pregnancies.  What were the chances something would go wrong with this one?  We put an extra stocking on the mantle for Christmas morning and when we pointed it out, Jack said, "Uh, is that for baby Jesus?"  Once they figured it out, they were excited.  We let them tell our families at family gatherings that day, too.  Jack and Ben were really excited to share the news.

The next day, we went for our first appointment.  The midwife did an ultrasound and saw nothing.  She thought maybe she saw a shadow in one spot, but couldn't be sure.  She sent us to the hospital to have another ultrasound done, and the ultrasound tech confirmed that the gestational sac measured 8 weeks, but there was no baby.  They diagnosed imminent miscarriage.  My bloodwork showed that my hcg levels were still going up, but that's not uncommon early in miscarriage.

During that appointment, I started bleeding, so they sent me home to let nature take its course.  As is protocol, they scheduled an ultrasound for 10 days later to confirm miscarriage before taking any action to end the pregnancy, though the midwife thought it wouldn't be necessary since bleeding had already started.

We had to go home and tell the kids that the baby wasn't growing any more.  I beat myself up on the entire drive home from the hospital for telling them so soon.  Jack cried with me and Ben just sat quietly.  Claire had no idea what was going on . . . it was actually her 2nd birthday.  We ate cupcakes and did our best to celebrate, but it just felt like there was a dark cloud over us.

I'd like to say that I was stoic and handled this all with grace and a grateful heart, but that would be a lie.  I was a wreck. I stayed in bed for most the next week, and missed every Christmas gathering we had scheduled.  I spent a lot of time praying and realizing how grateful I am to have three healthy kids.  And how lucky my kids are to have parents as awesome as we are.

Kyle took care of the kids that week and attended all of the Christmas festivities with them, but he was hurting, too. My parents ended up taking the kids for us for a few days, which was probably the most helpful thing anyone could have done.  It gave us a chance to spend time grieving and accepting everything, without having to put on a happy face for the kids. 

During the time that the kids were away, my friend Jeanette sent us flowers with a heartfelt note.  It was so nice of her, but the flowers had been sitting in subzero temperatures all day when I took them out of the box, so they looked like this:

When we saw them, Kyle and I started laughing hysterically.  I don't know why it struck us as funny . . . maybe the juxtaposition of the dead flowers and the beautiful note . . . but we laughed SO. HARD.  That laugh was exactly what we needed . . . even more than the flowers.  It was perfect.

We went back for what was supposed to be a follow-up appointment a week later.  I was still bleeding, But it was light enough that I didn't think I had yet miscarried.  The midwife said that once they confirmed the miscarriage at my next ultrasound, they could schedule a procedure to end the pregnancy right away.  I wanted them to do the ultrasound that day, but they wouldn't have been able to schedule any procedures until it had been at least 10 days from the first ultrasound.  I just wanted it all to be done.  I was constantly nauseated . . . more than I was with any pregnancy before that.  I was hormonal and bloated.  I had honestly accepted the miscarriage.  I had dealt with the loss.  I just wanted it to be over.

The ultrasound was scheduled for January 6.  The night before the ultrasound, we had about 18 inches of snow dumped on us.  We were snowed in.  I begged Kyle to please try to get us to U of M anyway, but we ended up stuck in the road in front of our driveway for a good 20 minutes.  I had to cancel, and they couldn't get me another appointment for 10 days!  I was so upset.  I knew there was no baby and I just wanted to stop feeling pregnant. The nausea and fatigue were overwhelming. Fortunately, the midwife got me in for Friday, so that I didn't have to wait over another weekend.  

THE THIRD TIME:
So we went in Friday.  Jeanette offered to watch Ben and Claire so we didn't have to drag them along, which was amazing.  I was sad, but anxious to get there and get everything scheduled.

Before we left that morning, I was listening to the Rend Collective version of "10,000 Reasons" and this stuck out to me:

"For all Your goodness I will keep on singing;
Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find"

That verse played over and over in my head throughout the whole day.

On our way to the hospital, Kyle's Aunt Karen sent me this message:

"In the middle of running around and playing with Uncle Jeff at our party, Ben came up to U. Jeff and asked if he could tell him a secret. He then told him, "our baby isn't growing like he should." Uncle Jeff told him that he would pray that everything would be okay. Then they went back to playing. We wanted to respect your privacy, but even more, we wish to know if we could pray more specifically for you."

It was perfect timing.  I needed to have more people praying for us.  It was interesting, too, because Ben had very little to say about everything to us.  It was good to catch a glimpse of his heart and his concern.  At one point during the week before, he told me, "Mom, did you know that I pray for you in my head, like, all the time?"

When we got to the hospital, we parked in the lot that we've parked at for every OB appointment, and for the birth of all three kids.  We passed all of the hospital landmarks that have become so familiar over the last 7 years.  I was so sad that I would now have this memory tied to those things, too. 

A cheerful ultrasound tech came into the waiting room and said my name, and I followed her into the room.  With a big smile she said, "Do you want to know if you're having a boy or a girl, or are we keeping that a surprise?"  Through tears I said, "We're here to confirm a miscarriage and schedule an MVA."  She was so apologetic and realized she had the wrong Sara.  She promptly returned me to the waiting room where my name was called again, by a rather somber Fetal Medicine Specialist.  He had a packet of information on MVAs and D & Cs that he set down next to the computer.  He told us that after the ultrasound, he'd go over our options and we could schedule something as soon as possible.

I closed my eyes as he began the ultrasound and within seconds said, "Well, I'd like to introduce you to your baby.  And here is it's heartbeat."  I sat straight up and said, "WHAT?!"  And there she was.  A sweet little baby, about 8 weeks along.  I was stunned.  Kyle was stunned.  Quite frankly, the doctor was a little surprised, too.  He said it's rare that he gets to give good news in this situation.  I told him he was one of my top 5 favorite people.

We were given a due date of August 26, which is Kyle's birthday (the due date as also been reported as August 20 and August 13 . . . we're not really sure when this baby is due exactly).  Kyle and I left the Fetal Diagnostic Center agreeing that it was one of the best days ever.

I've had a few friends and family members question whether the ultrasound was just too early, or if they were wrong to presume miscarriage.  Just for reference, though . . . miscarriage is presumed when the gestational sac measures larger than 2 cm, with no embryo.  Mine was 2.3 cm.  By the time a woman's hcg level is 1000, they normally expect to see an embryo.  If it's over 5000, with no embryo, they presume miscarriage.  Mine was 67,000.  On top of that, I was having bleeding . . . not just spotting.  In retrospect, I think it was from the vaginal ultrasounds (even though I've been told they wouldn't cause as much bleeding as I had).  There's still no other explanation for the bleeding.

Midwife and doctor agreed that this little girl might have been up against the side of the sac or in a shadow.  She was definitely big enough to have shown up at that first ultrasound.  This little girl is already giving her brothers and sister a run for their money at hide and seek.

I feel so incredibly lucky (and to be honest, a little guilty) to have my story turn out this way, because I know that for many people it doesn't.  Why me and not them?  When I think about those two weeks that we thought our baby was gone, my heart still aches.  I know that there are people for whom that ache isn't a just a memory. 

Our 20 week ultrasound showed a healthy little girl, developing just as she should be.  I'm so grateful.

Stories

I often wonder what stories my kids will tell about me.  I'll hear speakers talk about their childhoods, or tell anecdotes from when they were little and inevitably, my mind wanders to what tales my children will someday tell.

Surely, they'll talk about their lack of childhood mementos due to their mother's incessant need to cut clutter.  Or maybe they'll laugh about the time I said, "IF YOU DON'T STOP THAT RIGHT NOW, YOU'LL HAVE TO ORDER PIZZA INSTEAD OF CORN DOGS AT THE RESTAURANT TONIGHT!"  Perhaps they'll one day respond to their kids with "Because I'm magical." every time one of them asks how they know something.  Because that's what their mom always said.

I don't know.  Even though I know I'll get teased (because that's what adult children do to their parents) I do hope that they have more good memories than bad ones.  I hope they remember the piles of books that we read together and projects that we completed side by side and forget the times that I lost my temper or said, "not right now."  I hope they remember that I tell them how much I love them 15 times a day and forget most of my screw ups.

This morning I was eating at McDonalds with Ben (please, God, help them to remember the healthy meals I prepared and forget the times we ate fast food) and he asked me a question about the angel who released Peter from chains.  As I pulled out my phone to look up the passage, the guy sitting in the booth next to us said, "I'm speaking across the street at chapel in an hour or so . . . maybe he'd just like to speak for me."  We kind of laughed and I said, "How about it Bennett?  Do you want to speak in chapel?"

He responded with, "No.  But I will at Somerset Beach Campground.  I only speak at Somerset Beach Campground."  I was unaware of the exclusivity clause in his contract with camp.

Ben immediately followed that up with, "Do your kids watch NFL Rush Zone?"  Chapel speaking invitation rescinded.

I've been thinking ever since then, though, about what my kids will have to say someday.  Whether it's just telling stories to their own kids, sharing with a large group or simply recalling things to themselves . . . what will they have to say?

I hope that they'll be able to say these things:  We were a family who loved each other and was for each other.  Our parents weren't perfect, but loved Jesus and did their best to point us to our loving God in everything that they did.

Heading South

A few weeks ago, I had what some might refer to as a "breakdown."  I was at the end of my rope.  The weather has been insanely brutal.  I'm convinced that it will be July before the mountains of plowed snow will completely melt.  I'm sick of my nostrils freezing shut every time I walk out the door.

In addition, having three kids, growing a fourth, working at a job from home and running a business is hard work.  I think the weather is taking it's toll on my customers, too, because people have just been grumpier to work with, in general.  A few small changes at my real job have created a couple of stressful projects that had me way more worked up than I needed to be.  The uncertainty of this pregnancy through the first half of January (more on that later) left me emotionally drained. 

The effect that being stuck inside all day is having on my kids has also been tough.  They are antsy.  They fight over everything.  They are (sometimes literally) bouncing off the walls by the time we hit bedtime.  If they get along for five minutes at a time, I call that a success.  Jack is having a rough year, so he comes home from school cranky most days and takes his frustrations from school out on his brother and sister (we're working on that).

So, the breakdown . . . a few Sundays ago, on the way home from church, I lost it.  It had been a rough morning full of disobedience and disrespect.  There was yelling.  There was crying.  There were tantrums all around.  And I just couldn't take it anymore.  That night, my husband sat down and started planning out two vacations.  We're actually using our vacation time on something other than "projects around the house" this year!

We had planned to buy new living room furniture this spring.  Our furniture is white (yeah, we bought it before we had kids) and is pretty well trashed.  It could stand to be replaced, but it will have to hold out a little while longer.  Instead, we're using the money to take these two trips.  We can buy furniture next year.  Or after baby #4 has learned that sofa cushions are not, in fact, the same thing as a coloring book.

The first vacation he refers to as my "mental health" vacation.  We leave on Thursday (IN TWO DAYS!) for Florida.  And by "we", I mean Kyle and I.  Just the two of us.  Warm weather.  Grandma and Grandpa Luke are coming to watch the kids and we are taking 5 days to ourselves.  We tried to get away for a single night to celebrate our 10 year anniversary over a year ago, but our kids puked out those plans, so this will make up for that and then some.  It might be another 10 years before we get 5 days to ourselves.

We've never left our kids for this long, and the few times we've left them for two nights with grandparents have usually been so that we can stay home alone and get things done around the house.  I'm a little nervous, but way more excited. Honestly, I'm really afraid that someone will get sick Wednesday night.

Second, we're taking the kids to South Carolina for their spring break.  This is partly out of guilt for taking the Florida trip without them.  More than that, it's because with baby #4 due in August, I don't think we'll be up to traveling to Tennessee this fall like we did last year.  It'll be a little while before we do a family trip again.  I looking forward to getting them into warm weather . . . taking walks, swimming (even if it's indoors), letting them wade in the ocean and just having time as a family. 

We're so excited about about these trips and I'm counting down the days to Florida and the weeks until South Carolina!

Ben's 4th birthday party

Shortly after his 4th birthday, Bennett decided he wanted a pirate birthday.  Given so much time to brainstorm and prepare for the part, I still chose to wait until the last minute.  It's just how I do things.

Here are a few of the party highlights.

Most importantly, the birthday boy, complete in his pirate Halloween costume:

 

Dessert table:

 

 

The "grub" . . . we served hot dogs, beans and typical picnic fare.

 

The decorations:

 

  The games:

 

Winter

I do not like winter.

I really have tried to like it.  I've tried to appreciate the beauty of the snow and ice . . . the way it makes everything look so clean and sparkly.  I understand why people love it.  I'm just not one of those people.
The cold just feels suffocating.  I like to send my kids outside to play.  I like to leave the house without having to deal with boots and hats and coats and mittens.  I would take a 100 degree day over a -10 degree day anytime.

This January, we set records for lowest temperatures and most snowfall.  We've had 5 snow days, and I think our district has had fewer than any other so far this year.  I was so excited for February, but so far it looks a lot like January.

We had lots of snow over the weekend and in my opinion, today should have been a snow day.  Because we live south of our school district (and the school district we actually live in was closed today), I expected roads to get better as we went further north, but they just got worse.  Cars were all over the sides of the road and I saw a school bus almost take out a minivan.  It was one of the worst driving days we've had all year . . . though I'll admit that it seems less of an issue now that everyone has had so much practice driving in the snow.

Kyle and Ben both had a stomach bug over the weekend, but Jack, Claire and I managed to avoid it.  Being cooped up in a house with two puking boys makes the winter feel even more suffocating.

While February often starts to make me feel a little more hopeful, I've decided to be more realistic this year and just count down to April.  We might still get snow in April, but it won't be THIS bad.  At least I hope it won't!

Dear Bennett, Month whatever

Dear Ben,

When I picked you up from preschool last week, your teacher came out and said, "Bennett has the kind of personality that allows him to be friends with everyone.  That will serve him very well in life."

I didn't get a chance to ask her more about what happened, because, well . . . your sister was in her car seat screaming (you know how that goes).  But I wonder if it had something to do with the new kid in your classroom. I wonder if you were your usual friendly self, and included him like you'd known him all his life.

I knew this about you before she told me, of course.  You are a friendly kid.  You don't really care if someone is different than you . . . you'll always find a way to have fun with them, with few exceptions.  If you judge people based on anything, it's usually on how they treat other people.  You're sensitive to the kid who gets picked on, and you're helpful toward the kid who needs help.  And while we've tried to instill that in you, it really does just come naturally for you.

On several occasions, I've seen you in situations with kids who are being excluded.  You don't feel sorry for them, or include them to be nice.  You invite them to play, simply because you think it would be more fun with them than it would be without them.

Something that I've told you and your brother is that you have to put up the "antennae" for the people who need you. When you feel lonely, use it as a reminder to look for the lonely people around you and befriend them.  When you feel left out, look for the kid who also feels left out and go play with him.  You don't struggle with this one bit.

I hope that as you get older, your kindness toward others will continue.  Eventually, you'll start to see the differences between people, but I hope that it doesn't ever change how you treat them.  I'm so proud of you.

Love,
Mama

At 2 years old, Claire . . .

• is in the 85th percetile for weight and 98th for height.  In case you're wondering, those two percentiles have switched places since her last check up.  Her rolls are starting to disappear.
  
• loves Smarties.  They're the treat for which she'll do anything you ask.  She pronounces them "Farties" which, of course, is a dream come true for the boys.  They'll do anything to get her to say it.  I'll admit that I have a hard time keeping a straight face when asking them to please stop.
  
• still has very little hair.  It's definitely starting to come in, but she kind of looks like a very tall one-year-old.  It's still very important for us to dress her in pink.
  
• loves tacos.  And taco bowls.  If you ask her what she wants for dinner, she will usually reply, "tacos."
  
• doesn't have the desire to watch television that the boys did.  I realize that this should be a good thing, but sometimes, Mama just needs 20 minutes to get things done.  If I say, "Do you want to watch Mickey Mouse?" she'll get really excited, but if I'm not sitting right next to her, she will not sit and watch it.  She will be asking to do whatever I'm doing.
  
• loves her Mama.  I cannot go anywhere without her following me.  Kyle does his best to distract her if I have to go down to my office, but I can hear her crying at the top of the stairs for a while after I go down.  When I go to the bathroom . . . she's right out side asking me what I'm doing.  If I have to run out to the car or the mailbox, she stands by the window to make sure she doesn't lose track of me.  I know this is only a stage and that someday I'll miss it, so I try to take advantage of it.
  
• takes a good 30 minutes to warm up to new people.  Until then, she kind of scowls at them and seems kind of cranky.  So when we're out shopping, she is constantly scowling at people who smile at her and saying, "NO, NO" to people who try to talk to her.   The only exception is the people who don't pay attention to her.  If someone is waiting in line behind us and hasn't looked at her, or if the cashier doesn't acknowledge her, she'll ham it up to get their attention.  2 year old girls have weird social skills.
  
• also loves her dad.  He can make her laugh and squeal like no one else.  When he comes in the door, she'll run to give him a hug and then run away real fast, hoping that he'll chase her.
  
• really loves her brothers.  She has different relationships with both of them, but they're both special.  Ben is her playmate and partner in crime.  Jack is the one she goes to if she needs help or wants to cuddle.  If the boys are watching tv, or playing on their kindles, she likes to cozy up right next to them.
  
• is a cuddler.  If I want to see her get excited or distract her from something, all I have to say is, "Do you want to cuddle in Mama's bed?"  She always wants blankets and has to be right up next to you.  If we're in bed and I ask, "What do you want to talk about?" she always responds, "Jesus."
  
• repeats questions and facts over and over.  I remember this with the boys, but it definitely seems like she does it more.  For instance, she'll says, "Daddy at work?"  I'll respond, "Yes."  "Working in his office?"  "Yes."  "Be back soon?"  "Yes."  And we will repeat that conversation until she finds a new line of questioning.  It's even worse in the car.
  
• has taken interest in her baby dolls.  She likes to rock them and put them to sleep.  She also likes to put them in time out.  Her favorite thing to do is to pull down the back of their diapers and say, "Oh no . . . stinky" and then pretend to change them.
  
• will sing the Doxology, ABCs, O Come all Ye Faithful, Jesus Loves me, Away in A Manger, and more.  She loves to sing and dance, but gets shy if she realizes she has an audience.  There's nothing better than hearing her sing, "O Come all you faiful."

On 2013

I know that a cardinal rule of blogging is to never acknowledge an absence.  However, my  blogging absence says more about 2013 than any blog post could.  In general, 2013 has not been good.  It's been uncomfortable, frustrating, and at times, downright heartbreaking.  It's stretched and challenged us and has brought more tears than laughter.  Those are just the facts.

I know what you're thinking: "You have a home, jobs, three beautiful, healthy children, etc.  Why are you complaining?"  The good things in life aren't lost on me.  I know that it could be worse and that I'm relatively fortunate.  That doesn't change the fact that this year has just been a bad one.  All last January, February and March, I kept commenting on how I couldn't wait for winter to be over because I was sure winter was bringing our misfortune.  But it continued through the spring, summer and right on into the fall. December has kind of been the grand finale.

I regret not writing as much this year, because I haven't documented much of the kids' lives during this year and they've all changed so much.  Jack is 6, going on 12 and really is amazing.  Bennett is one of the most creative, compassionate 4-year-olds I know.  And Claire?  She's incredibly fiesty and so, so, smart.  We've had so many good moments with them this year and I wish I'd written about those.

The fact is that every time I sit down to write, my mind draws a blank and tears fill my eyes.  That's just how it's been.

I wish that I could write about how much we've grown and learned through the challenges of this year . . . and I think we have.  But it's hard to see that clearly when you're still in the middle of it.

I do know, that despite all of the stress and misfortune of this year, that God is good and that he loves us.  I know that even if every year for the rest of our lives is like this one, we can still consider ourselves incredibly blessed.

I'm just hoping that 2014 is our year.

Claire's first birthday

Sadly, Claire is closer to 2 years old than she is to her first birthday, and I'm just now posting photos from her party.

I didn't post much about Christmas last year, but, well . . . it wasn't great thanks to a nasty little stomach bug.  Claire's original party was postponed, and by the time we celebrated, most of the treats I had ready were stale or too old to serve.  It was still cute on the 30th when we made up for it, and let's face it . . . she didn't really know the difference. 

Here are the two photos from her REAL birthday that we celebrated at home.  She was the only one who didn't get sick, so I think she's probably the only one that really enjoyed her birthday cake.

And here are a few from her belated birthday party:

 

Claire, at 20 months

At 20 months, Claire . . .

. . . likes to wear shoes.  Not HER shoes.  Other people's shoes.  If you take off your shoes at my house, she will likely be wearing them in 10 - 15 minutes.

. . . will stand still for photos, only when her mouth is full of animal crackers (see above).

. . . has an ATTITUDE.  She's learned to defend herself from her brothers and has mastered saying "STOP THAT", "I DON'T WANT TO", "I DON'T WANT THAT", "LEAVE ME ALONE" and many other things with enough edge to hold her own.  It's 1 part cute and 2 parts frustrating.

. . . is smart as a whip.  Honestly.  I can't even believe what she can understand.

. . . still loves her Mama. If I'm in the room, her arms are stretched out, asking "hold, please."  Sometimes it's inconvenient, but knowing this is the last one I'll have doing that, I usually give in.  I still use my sling to carry her in.

. . . if she wants my attention, and I'm talking to someone else, she takes it upon herself to grab me by the jaw and direct my head toward her.  This will only be cute for another year or so.  After that, it gets obnoxious.

. . . will stand at the top of the stairs or at the door and kyle, "KYYYLE!"  I don't know where she got that from.

. . . will yell, "BOOOYS!  STOP THAT!" when she hears her brothers getting rough or making lots of noise.

. . . has constipation problems.  TMI?  Perhaps.  But it's a pretty big issue for her right now.

. . . Is in 2T/3T clothing, depending on the brand.  I recently retired all of her 18 - 24 month clothing.  She grew A LOT in August.

. . . loves to put necklaces or bracelets on and proclaim herself, "PRETTY!" Something with which we all can agree.

. . . still has very little hair.  It's coming in, slowly, but surely.  I just look forward to the day that I don't have to say, "No, she's a girl" every time she isn't wearing all pink.  And sometimes even when she is.

. . . has been a little grumpy for about a month.  Which is how long she's had 2 teeth trying to push their way through.  My fingers are crossed that when they finally emerge fully, her temperament will become more pleasant.