when you fail before you start

So, the other night, I was telling my husband how I've noticed some people in blog world do this "31-days" thing where they pick a topic and write on it for 31 days. I explained that I don't really spend much time these days reading blogs and didn't care very much about being a part of that 31-days-community, but that it seemed like a good challenge for me. I love writing, and though it's hard to find the time, maybe the goal of writing 31 days in a row about something would be good. I had been thinking about it for much of September, and even written a couple posts to jump start, assuming I wouldn't actually have time to write something 31 days in a row. (Does that defeat the purpose? I don't know. Probably. #imakemyownrules)

So, my sweet husband listened intently as I went on to describe my chosen topic along with my first few posts in more detail than he might have cared for. (He is a VERY good listener. Actually, he is a great listener. And he has patiently taught me how to be a better listener over the past 4.3 years. I didn't even know I was a bad listener before, but I was. Let's call my current listening skill level mediocre. #workinprogress)

Anyway, he was listening intently as I described my topic. He laughed, responded, encouraged me, threw out a few more ideas and then he said, "But it's already October 2."

WHAT!?

It's October?????

[Aside: I almost never know what the date is. As a former public school teacher, who wrote and/or saw the date 283 times every day, I can't tell you what a weird feeling it is to go to write a check (yes, I write checks sometimes), and then wonder what day it is, only to find it is is 3 plus or minus days away from the date I thought it was.]

And so, just like that, I had failed before I started.

31 days was a nice idea. But, it'll have to wait until next October. Or possibly October of 2024 2074, when I am certain that I will not have any small children to care for (at least on a minute-by-minute basis).

Until then, I've already written 2 of the posts. (Yeah, I got a huge jump start...)
And I'll publish those this week. And maybe I'll write a few others on that topic this month. Maybe not.

By the way, have you ever failed before you started? Don't leave me hangin' here...
"I'm never going to speak like that to my kids again..."
"I'm going to eat paleo..."
"I'm not going to use that credit card again..."
"I'm going to read my bible every morning..."

or, wait for it

"I'm going to work out 3 times a week."

Yeah, me too.
But, did you know there is grace for that.
We will never be able to do perfectly what we set out to do.
And so, there is grace.
Grace to start anew and grace to make it through the mundane and the ordinary, grace to achieve your goals, and grace to accomplish something great.

There is a lot of grace available.
Give yourself grace.
Start over.
And if you again fail before you start... grace.

Turns out we're pretty different.

Almost exactly 5 years ago, Ben told me he loved me.
I said, "what do you mean?"

Yep, you heard it.
Ben: I love you, Renee
Me: What do you mean by 'love?'

(Ladies, just let me know if you need any other romantic advice...)

This was our first picture together. It was blurry. Kind of like the next few months before we decided to get married :)

But seriously, we were babies.

(Speaking of babies, we got married so quickly people joked about a baby. That is an awkward joke by the way. Don't say that to people.)

Fast forward 5 years.

I'm sitting in church the other day. As the sermon is ending, I glance over at Ben's notes and I have a revelation: all of our differences are evidenced in the way we take notes at church.

His notes: 2 sentences, scribbled at the top of the church bulletin in black ball point pen.
My notes: 4 pages of cursive and arrows and brackets in pink ink, written in my notebook that I bring every Sunday and then will add to the box of all the notebooks from all the years of church notes.

He processes internally and then verbalizes one sentence that sums up everything neatly and comprehensibly.
I process out loud and after 3 hours of talking about all the angles and what-ifs and details, I try to articulate something coherent and simple. And usually can't.

He sees something he likes and decides, "yes."
I see something I like, research all the possible alternatives, and then wait for Ben to tell me to just choose already.

He looks at the menu for 1 minute, picks what sounds good, and closes it.
I read every entree description, ask the waiter for a couple more minutes (5 times), go back and forth between 2 or 3 or 4 options, ask Ben which I want, tentatively decide, ask the waiter his opinion, and then change my mind at the last minute.

He drinks 2 cups of coffee every morning. Quickly, efficiently, and in one sitting.
I drink half my cup slowly, and just keep refilling it over the course of several hours.

He likes to be on time. No... early.
I think time is flexible.

His car is neat. I recently commented on how I like how clean his car is and I wish I could have mine as clean. He responded, "well, I just take out everything I bring into it." (so simple, and yet so difficult.) There are cheerios all over my car. and coffee cups and gum wrappers and those green things from starbucks that are supposed to prevent spilling. And somehow there are also coffee stains.

The house is a different story. I like everything in its place. [I'm learning to cope with letting this go in our current season of tornadoes babies.] Laundry in the laundry basket. Toothbrushes in the tooth brush jar. Pillows neatly arranged on the couch. Toys in the toy cabinet. Ben likes the laundry on the floor, and the toothbrushes on the counter, and the pillows haphazardly thrown to the side, and the toys wherever Addie left them. [I should mention that he often puts things away because I like it that way, and that is one of the 4,239,388 reasons I love him.]

Needless to say, we are very different.
But, he loves me well.
And in 4 (ish) years of marriage, we have learned a lot about how to navigate our differences and how to love and serve each other. Mostly though, we've learned that there is more to learn about each other and about true love than we ever even realized.

It is hard and tiring and surprising... and yet fun and hilarious and awesome. 

And I'm so happy I married this man.

disclaimer: please do not judge us in this picture. it had been a long day of driving 500 miles with 2 under 2. after a beautiful (but tiring) wedding weekend. where 3 of the 4 of us stood up in it. and i was nursing. and we did the drive twice in 4 days. celebratory frozen pizza and wine were in order. and showers. we needed showers at this point. clearly :) 

hospitality and pinterest

let's talk about pinterest. i have a love-hate relationship with pinterest. on one hand, i like the pretty pictures. i like the way it helps me easily keep track of recipes from all over the internet in one place. i like vegging out and scrolling. i like that it's like a free magazine subscription.

on the other hand, i think it easily tricks me.

tricks me into thinking i need to throw an extravagantly themed party for my two year old instead of just inviting everyone over to hang out and eat cake.

tricks me into thinking my kitchen should look like this

or a play room like this

now this isn't pinterest's fault. and extravagant parties and beautiful kitchens and organized playrooms aren't bad. but, they don't equal great hospitality.

Let's not confuse hospitality with a nice looking house or beautiful decorations. 

Hospitality says you before me.
Hospitality is sacrificial and serving.
Hospitality gives what you have, whether it's a lot or a little.
Hospitality helps people in need.
Hospitality welcomes all, even to a mess or a less-than-perfect house.

I have been on the receiving end of some great hospitality. People who've opened up their homes (big or small), and their hearts to say- you. are. welcome. here. just as you are. 

Something about their attitude and demeanor and presence that made me feel welcome.

And that is what I want people to feel in my home.

you are welcome here, just as you are.

So, I'll still browse and scroll, and click and pin. And my pinterest boards will probably be brimming with ideas and pretty pictures and recipes galore. But, they won't be dictating my hospitality.

Because even if it's just home-made Folgers coffee
in hodge-podge mugs
sitting on our craigslist couches
surrounded by toys  
laying on a floor that hasn't been vacuumed for an unmentionable amount of time,

you are welcome here, just as you are. 
So, come on over!

my heart in cambridge

We moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts almost exactly a year ago. [That was true when I started writing this post 4 weeks ago! Ahhh, babies!]

view from path along the Charles River

When we were getting ready to move, we were anticipating a vacation of sorts. [Insert hysterical now-we-know-better laughter.]
Ben was attending a 1-year program, and while we were open to him finding a job there afterwards, we figured we would likely be moving again after the school year. He was leaving a Phd program, where he did research and attended classes, so for some strange reason, we thought a masters program (at Harvard) would be easier and less time consuming. We pictured traveling around New England on weekends, exploring the sites, evenings in Boston.

[more hysterical you-people-are-delusional laughter ensues.]

Move-in day.

Ben's dad had driven with him in our moving truck from Omaha to Cambridge. My dad flew in on moving day to help with the unloading. (Somehow they got our sectional couch up 3 flights of stairs.) I was supposed to fly with my dad but accidentally booked a flight for a day later. Woops. Coincidentally, it was the same flight as my mom. So, she and Addie and I arrived after everything was already in the apartment. I highly suggest making that mistake for future moves...

I remember opening the little airplane window as we flew in over Boston. It was beautiful. Ben's dad's flight out was not long after we landed, so we crossed paths in the airport, said thank you and goodbye.

When we got there, the apartment was bigger than we'd pictured it, very comfortable for the 3 of us.

Addie was at a great age - she could sit and play happily, but not move.

We had 2 weeks to get settled and explore before Ben started his program, so we hit all the tourist sites.

Seafood on the water.

 Boston Common "Frog Pond." (Huge little wading pool with a fountain in the park. So fun.) 

Canolis

Otto's Pizza in Harvard Square

We got tired of dragging our huge stroller everywhere, so we bought an Ergo Carrier and a fancy umbrella stroller. (We bought both used for $80 total. 2 of the best baby-item purchases ever, by the way. I wish I would have known about both of these products sooner.)

And we bought bikes. Everything we read said don't have a car in Cambridge. (Bikes were fun, but they were a mistake. We should have just brought our car out from the beginning. Live and learn.) 

Those first couple months were so fun. Let's call this the 'honeymoon phase.' 

We thought we could stay in Cambridge forever. We really loved it. 

The honeymoon phase lasted through most of the fall. 

Ben's program started and he was in his element. Programming and coding all day. Interesting classes. Brilliant professors. Surrounded by nerds. It was awesome. Meanwhile, on the home-front, I was setting up our new apartment, taking Addie on walks, exploring new places, meeting neighbors. And then a few people decided to come visit - we had friends or family in town 4 weekends in a row. Not to mention, New England in the fall is as beautiful as they say it is.

So the honeymoon continued.

During one of those friends' visits, I felt really nauseous one night. My friend made a joke about being pregnant. I was a couple days late, but didn't think too much of it. I thought it was the seafood. The next morning, though, SURPRISE! Pregnant. [I've written more about this here, including a 'disclaimer' about the whole you're-talking-about-a-surprise-pregnancy-on-the-internet-while-some-people-are-walking-through-infertility thing.] 

After our last weekend of visitors sometime in October, I would say the honeymoon phase finally wore off. I often felt tired. I was tired of small talk, and craving close friends. Ben had schoolwork looming over his head every waking hour. Not to mention, it was a bit of an MAJOR adjustment becoming a full time, stay-at-home-mom. So little adult interaction. So many tears. (Hers and mine.) So much work for seemingly no progress or results. This feeling of, what the heck am I doing? Not to mention, I was getting larger by the week. 

October, November, and December were hard. 

We were eager to see family. Eager to feel like we had a home. 

Many mornings (and afternoons, and evenings), I prayed in tears.
Sometimes I cried out loud. Sometimes they were silent.

But, the Lord heard. 

He heard every prayer, and collected every tear. 

He drew near to me on the hard days. He rejoiced with me on the good days. He comforted me in the loneliness. He brought me friends. He gave us grace in our marriage, and taught us more about each other and Himself in 6 months than we might have learned in 6 "normal" years. (Whatever "normal" means.) 

He asked me to trust Him to provide in every area... 

to provide the energy, strength, consistency & discipline I needed to be a good mom.  

to provide the connection, balance, and time we were trying to find for each other. 

to provide deeper friendships. 

to provide a job for Ben at the end of the school year.

and on and on. 

So I did. (Not perfectly, but Jesus never asked for perfect faith. I believe his exact words were, "If you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'May you be uprooted and thrown into the sea,' and it would obey you!") (Luke 17:6)  

Well, we made it to December.

Our church gave out free Christmas trees. [This is how I know my husband loves me - he dragged it upstairs and set it up with me even though we were leaving town a week before Christmas and he'd have to drag it back downstairs to the trash 2 weeks later.] 

We went out for a celebratory brunch when the semester ended.

Ben passed his classes.
We were halfway done with the year, and headed home for the holidays. Hallelujah.

But something supernatural happened, ironically, while we were back in the midwest.

I started to miss "home." And by home, I mean Cambridge.
Cambridge had become home.
Looking back, I can see more clearly - not much had changed circumstantially by December. Our life was very much the same.

But, God's answer to my request for a changed circumstance was a changed heart.

While we were back in the midwest, I realized had gotten to know some other moms better than I'd thought, and I missed those friends. I missed our little apartment. I missed our neighbors.

Cambridge had become home.

So, when we began the 3 day & 8 state road trip back to Cambridge, I was excited.
Excited to be going home.
And that was supernatural.
That was the Lord. He knew that what I really wanted was to feel like we were home there. And he provided for my heart in a way I didn't even know to ask for.

Enter the winter. (Winter in Boston actually does last a really long time. It still felt like winter when we moved in May.) We were refreshed and ready to tackle second semester. A lot went down from January through May, but here's the bottom line:

God.is.faithful.

He provided everything He said He would and more.
More than we could have thought, asked for, or imagined. Just as he promised.
Ben and I learned how to connect with each other in refreshing ways.
I learned how not to be crabby about Ben's long hours with school work.
He strengthened us for the work that is parenting a toddler. [Holy cow. It is hard work, people.]
He strengthened my increasingly pregnant body to be able to climb 3 flights of stairs every day. [A definite feat.]
He helped us feel connected at our church.
He grew our relationship with our neighbors.
And, He again provided me with life long friends.

Fast forward to May. I wrote more about it here and here, but long story short, we decided to move back to Omaha. Ben took a job at Hudl, we rented a house, had a baby, and here we are.

One year later.
In a similar position as were one year ago, (albeit, closer to family), but starting over in a lot of other ways.
New things to be adjusted to.
New friends to be made.
New church to connect at.
New neighbors to know.
New job to figure out.
New baby added.
New season to be journeyed through.

Some people have asked - how's it going? Are you settling in?
I usually smile and nod, but the answer is more than that.
It's yes, and it's no.
Yes, we're embracing what's new, loving all the time with family, and settling in. Bits and pieces of life feel like home is here now. And I know the Lord will stitch my heart into the fabric of our new life that is in Omaha.

But part of my heart is in Cambridge. In Cambridge, where we ventured away from family. Where I became a stay at home mom. Where my baby learned to walk and talk and became a toddler. Where we had neighbors that became dear friends. Where other moms opened their hearts and lives to me so quickly and deeply. Where we had the most wonderful play group. Where it seemed like it'd never be home and then all of the sudden I was sad to leave.

And maybe part of it always will be. 

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Quick Easy Meals + Happy Babies = Success

Parents of littles know the title of this post is not a joking matter.
If dinner is being made and the babies are happy SIMULTANEOUSLY, that is a serious success all around. Maybe some of you have children who don't get cranky at 5:00, but that is prime whiny time over at our house and it also happens to be dinner-making time. Survival was the name of the game for a couple months after Emma was born. Meaning, burgers, tacos, taco salad, grilled cheese, spaghetti, etc... #eatinglikea5yearold

But, I'm trying to get back into cooking more "real" food.

Easy is still a must. No gourmet cooking over here. But we've upgraded from spaghetti to...

1. Pork lettuce wraps. I usually serve steamed broccoli and fruit on the side.

2. We bought a cheap teeny tiny gas grill & I LOVE having it! Ben often grills when he gets home. 5-10 minutes of prep for me (marinade/ seasoning) and 5-10 minutes of grilling and out comes something tasty. I've been experimenting with these marinade ideas. Seriously, I do this 2 or 3 times a week. Easy, healthy, fun.

3. Pesto. I've been wanting to attempt growing basil for a while. I couldn't stand to pay $3 per package for the fresh stuff at the store anymore. I am no gardener, but this wasn't that hard.
Pot + dirt + basil plant = $10.
Fresh basil all year long? Priceless.
Okay, not priceless. But it's much cheaper, and more convenient. Step out to back porch, pick a few basil leaves, throw in food processor with walnuts (cheaper than pine nuts), parmesan, garlic, and olive oil. Voila!
We like this skinny chicken pesto bake. I have Ben grill the chicken so that it's halfway cooked, then I put it in a baking dish, add the pesto, mozzarella, and tomato & put it in oven for 10 minutes (ish) at 375 (ish). It's very forgiving.
I also do the following copy-cat recipe of Noodles & Company's Pesto Cavatappi.
Pasta + homemade pesto + grilled chicken seasoned with salt and pepper + sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes. Top with shredded parmesan. I could eat that every day.
But I don't.
But I want to.

I do like to cook. [Side note: My mom was in town for a few days. One evening during meal-prep time, she took Addie outside to play, and Emma was sleeping. I was making dinner. And it was silent. And then the heavens opened, and angels began singing the Hallelujah chorus. Okay, that part was in my head. But, I had forgotten how much I like to cook until I was by myself and it was silent. I wouldn't trade in my chaotic children-filled evenings for silence every night, but for one night, it was really nice. God's grace to me in the mundane. Anyway, I turned on some great music, and chopped, stirred, and sauteed away. It was so fun.]

On most days, though it's the aforementioned slightly chaotic, child-filled meal prep time. We try to avoid meltdowns at this happy hour of sorts with the following strategies...

Addie helps me "wash" dishes. She would play at the sink all day long if I let her. So this is our #1 go-to.

Sometimes we put on a movie. (Which Addie refers to as "vee-vee.") 

These reusable stickers are super fun. It's from this Melissa and Doug sticker pad. It was an impulse buy when she first was into stickers - little did I know what a hit it would be. There are 5 animal habitat pages (farm, jungle, dessert, etc...) and then 5 matching sticker sheets. The stickers are like window clings so you can peel them and move them repeatedly. I actually like it better than stickers, not only because she can use them over and over, but also because they're easier for her to peel by herself. She can't quite get stickers off a sticker sheet yet. They end up all over our house. Or all over Emma. But as those of you with toddlers know, anything they can do by themselves for longer than 2 minutes is a WIN! 

As far as Emma goes, she is basically either eating, sleeping, crying, or swinging during this hour. She also enjoys being read to by her big sister ;)

Right now, Ben gets home around 6. If I'm really on it, we eat right when he gets home. This seems to happen once every 10 days. Most days, we eat around 6:30. So, I try to feed Emma at 4 ish and then give her a 'snack' either right before I start meal prep around 5:/5:15, or right after I finish and before Ben gets home around 5:55/6. If she's full, she's generally happy. If she's super crabby, I swaddle her up, lay her down, and tolerate the background music titled, "baby cries herself to sleep."

Some day, perhaps, I will cook in silence every day.
Perhaps I'll sip wine and try new, gourmet recipes.
I might think back on these somewhat chaotic evenings
evenings that were full of crying and whining and a child clinging to my legs.
but also full of singing & laughing
evenings with my kitchen helper who loved to stir and wash.
evenings where we turned whiny-leg-clinging into a sweet snuggly leg-hugging game.
And I might miss them.

(or not. i might happily sip my wine in silence, and eat a gourmet dinner with my husband and enjoy adult conversation. who knows!?)

changed

This is a GREAT story.
Well worth 18 minutes of your time.
This is the power of Jesus to change a life.
The power of Jesus to transform a marriage.

a glimpse at a conversation with my toddler

I was going to attempt this brief and interrupted blogging style... where I would just write thoughts as they came instead of sitting down to write blog posts novels. But it's not really working. 

Because, well, I have a toddler.

Don't get me wrong. 

I LOVE our toddler. She is sweet, curious, funny, feisty, a very loving big sister, and she has a killer run. (If you've seen it, you know what I mean.) 

I love her to the moon and back. [Bonus points if you can name that book.] 

But, in this current season, my thoughts are incomplete. And I thought that "incomplete" would be a fun and new way to blog - brief tidbits here and there. Little thoughts to share. Most of the time, though, I only ever get through half a thought. Just one little itty bitty glimpse of a thought. 

Like... wow the way that lady so kindly approached... [mama, mama, emma, emma? walk walk, crash.] That's Addie talking to me mid-thought.

So we talk about all those things. 

Me: Yes, mama is drinking coffee.

Addie: cah-fee, cah-fee. mama's. hot. hot. addieeee? nooooo. no. no. silly.

Me: Yes, coffee is not for Addie. Too hot. Just for mommy. 

Addie: baby? emma? nooooo. (She likes to say "no" in a drawn out teasing voice when she's joking. It's pretty cute.) 

Me: Right. Not for baby or emma. Just mommy. 

Addie: books? read, read, read. bus bus bus. (this means she wants to read the bus book.) 

Me: okay, go find it and I'll read it to you. 

She runs off. 

In my head, I should write about the sweet enthusiasm she has for reading and how I hope... 

[BUSSSSSSSSSSSSS.] 

She runs back with the book in hand & thought vanishes into thin air. Now I'm thinking about how we are going to read/sing "The Wheels on the Bus" for the 1,028,384th time. She has loved this book for months. 

Me: Yay, you found it! Let's read the bus book. 

Addie: Addie addie addie. 

Me: Okay, Addie read it to mommy. 

Addie: bus bus bus. nah nah. bus. emma? ride? ride ride ride. bus bus bus. 

[If you have a toddler, you understand that everything is repeated at least twice, often 3 + times at the age of 19 months.]  

Let's just say, my toddler is... chatty. 

I don't know where she gets it from. Probably her dad. [cough cough.]

So this is most of our day. I don't entertain her all day by any means, but she talks all day. To me, to Emma, to herself, to her baby. Really, I don't mind. I mean, I crave silence more than I ever have, but I love to hear her learning and articulating. I love that she can communicate her thoughts. I almost always understand her. It eliminates minimizes the whining. 

And so, here I am. 

Not many complete thoughts. And not as many moments to write the complete (or incomplete) ones as I'd hoped for. Still working on making time. 

Because I do love writing.

And I love sharing.

And I am so so so encouraged and tickled and inwardly blushing when someone says, "I read your blog." 

Yippee! I love that! 

I love that someone else could find any sort of connection or encouragement from something going on in our little corner of the internet. 

I love to record our lives so that one day I can remember what the Lord has done for us.

So, keep checking back. Don't give up on me. We'll be here.  

2 months already????

Since Emma is 2 months old {where did the time go?!}, it seemed fitting to write her birth story. Finally. If there can be opposites when it comes to birth, Addie and Emma's births were opposite. 
Agonizing (Addie's birth) and bliss (Emma's birth) are the two words that come to mind.

Once upon a time, I scheduled an induction for June 4, two days before Emma's due date. The reasons for picking June 4 were half logistical and half get-this-baby-outta-me. To keep it "PG," I'll just say my body was "ready" by about 37 weeks. Addie came on her own 10 days early, so I had false hope Emma would come early too. But by 39 she still wasn't here. We picked June 4 because my doctor was going out of town June 5 and my parents were arriving June 7. I was a little nervous to do an induction, but the doctor was pretty sure it wouldn't take much to get labor going. 

It is a very weird feeling to wake up one morning and know you're going to meet your baby that day. We were supposed to be at the hospital at 7. Ben got up super early to run with David. I woke up at 5:45, had a bite to eat, journaled and prayed a little, showered, and packed a couple last minute things. We went to the hospital at 7 am, answered what seemed like a million questions until 8:00. 

whew. glad i'm not carrying her around like that anymore!!! 

note to first-time preggo mommas: this is not what it looks like when you spontaneously go into labor. been there, done that, no photos. but when you wake up & go to the hospital for an induction, you are more likely to be beaming when you arrive :) 

At 8:45, our doctor arrived and broke my water. Ben and I walked around for an hour to see if breaking the water would kick start labor, but it didn't. 
They started the pitocin at 9:45. The doctor's process is to increase the amount by 2mL every 30 minutes until I'm in "active labor" (contracting regularly on my own, at 7 cm). The nurse explained that at any point, I can choose not to "up" the pitocin and just let my body do the rest if I want to proceed naturally. 
We started at 2 mL. Walked around a lot.  
Up to 4. Walked more. I could feel my body getting more amped up, and it felt exciting. We were going to meet Emma today. I debated progressing naturally (without more pitocin) the rest of the way. But we figured, go big or go home. Why not speed it up. So...
Up to 6. 
I was pretty sure I wanted an epidural with this one. I had labored too long with Addie without one. Plus it's supposed to be even harder (if that's possible) on pitocin. Knowing it would be about an hour from the time I requested it to when I got it, I requested the epidural once the pitocin was at 6, even though the pain was still manageable. The contractions were getting closer and stronger, so we stopped adding pitocin because I didn't want to be in agony for the next hour before the epidural. I jumped in the tub while waiting for the rest of the IV fluid to drip (necessary before epidural) & then waiting on the anesthesiologist. The contractions got HARD. 
The epidural went in around 11 or 12. I think.
It took well, and I was about 8 cm. They stopped the pitocin all together. 
Even with the epidural, I could feel immense pressure with every contraction. This was really different from Addie, because Addie wasn't in the right position until the last second. 
After about 30 minutes, the pressure went from only-with-contractions to constant. I couldn't not push. 
20 minutes later, she was out. 

Honestly, it was amazing in a lot of ways. It was a totally different experience from Addie's birth {which I am just realizing I never blogged about... maybe another day.} 
One thing I didn't like was  - it was a weird anticipation once they started the pitocin, but not knowing when things were going to pick up. Just walking around, with an IV in (yuck), waiting for contractions to start. Waiting for the 'real thing.' But at the end of it all, sweet Emma was born, and we were again, in love.  

at one month... 

6 weeks - first smiles 

7 weeks 

8 weeks 

and today. 

at 2 months old, she's smiley, relaxed, and pretty quiet. She cries to go to sleep, but doesn't make much noise throughout the day. Maybe she'll be introverted?? She loves being talked to and sung to though. And she seems to like her big sister. 

i'm so glad this little peanut was born 2 months ago.