Saturday, September 26, 2015

Polina Jane Birth Story Part TWO

11:08. I got out of bed.

I went to the bathroom, and there it was. A very large, and unmistakable, bloody show.  Strange, I thought to myself. I sat there for a moment just contemplating all the different things that could be going on here. Is labor around the corner? Is my body trying to tell me something? Am I going to have a baby soon?

All while Andrew is hollering from our bedroom, "What, what, what is it!"

Well honey. There is a big large glob of bleh that is streaked with blood. And then I said to him....

"I think we are going to have a baby tonight."

I got into bed, laying flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling, covers pulled up to my chest, and texted my friend. She asked me if I had contractions, and as I was typing her "no," all of a sudden I had a... contraction.


Not having had one this entire pregnancy, there was definitely no denying what this was. Was it a coincidence? Was this just going to be one of those nights where you have a little activity and then things simmer down? Who knows, but I timed it and it was about 30 seconds long. Low intensity.

"Andrew, baby, I just had a contraction."

Half asleep, he asked me if it was okay to go to sleep. I told him, "No! Are you crazy? We are going to have a baby tonight." He squinted, rolled over, and started snoozing.

Five minutes later, another contraction. 4 minutes, another, and then another. More and more intense.

11:30 I text my dad to stay by his phone. I text my MIL to tell her we may have a baby tonight.

11:45 Contractions are getting stronger. About 2-3 minutes about. I decide to get up and start putting make up on. I holler at Andrew to tell him it's time, and he needs to get up. He goes to get bags ready. I walk downstairs and pace around for a minute, having to stop with each contraction and sway from side to side. I wasn't moaning yet, but it was very uncomfortable, and too frequent that I couldn't stop thinking about them.

I make a page to the OB night doctor to tell him what's going on, and that I was coming in. It feels like forever until I get that call back.

12:00 The doctor calls me back and asks me what's going on.

"Hello, my name is ..... I am a patient of ..... I am 37 weeks 2 days pregnant and about 30 minutes ago I had my bloody show. Immediately after, contractions began and have intensified and gotten closer and longer from there. They have been about 2-3 minutes apart for the past 20 minutes. "

"And this is your first baby?" ---he clearly thought I must be crazy to call him only 30 minutes from the start of the first contraction.

"No, my third, and they have been 3-4 hour labors."

"Ohhhhh, well we need to get you in the hospital then."

12:05 a.m.

After I hang up the phone with the doctor, I have Andrew call my dad to wake my mom so she could head over. I could hear my dad on the other line sounding confused. I'm not sure he even realized why we were calling, until it finally hit him that we are going to the hospital.

After hanging up, Andrew rushed upstairs to quickly shower. I was left alone with my thoughts and these terrible contractions.  Although I knew with 100% certainty that there would be a baby here in a matter of hours, I wasn't quite sure where that baby would be delivered. Everything had progressed already so quickly, that I began to worry that we would end up in the news as the next couple who delivered in the car. Thankfully, we pass about 4 hospitals trying to get to ours, so I was assured that at least if we had to, we could stop elsewhere.

12:30 Andrew was finally ready, and our bags were in the car, but the contractions were getting more intense, and I was scared at this point. I tell Andrew to call my mom and to have her jut meet us at the hospital. We pack the kids up in the car and drive.

Lots of contractions in the car, a lot of moaning on my part. But I have periods of rest in between, even if they are only a couple minutes, it feels like heaven.

When we arrive to the hospital, I have Andrew drop me off and him meet my mom with the kids so she can take our car back. The lady at the desk quickly checks me in, and

1:08 Signing paperwork, getting hooked up to monitor, and answering a lot of questions. A little while into being at triage, I finally tell the nurse that I felt like I was wet down there, she barely glimpsed and said "Oh yup, you sure have ruptured!" Somehow the thought that my water had broken somehow slipped my mind. Once we were done with the all the paperwork, she decided to check me.

"Do you want an epidural?"

"I'd like to try without one as long as possible."

She checks me. 5 centimeters, 100% effaced.

Only 5. That is all I could think about. I was hoping to be a 7 by the time I arrived at the hospital. I was hoping that I would be able to deliver shortly after, and that they would tell me that I just didn't have time for an epidural. Why? Because I just knew I wasn't strong enough to do it otherwise. That ultimately if you would give me the choice, as soon as it got too hard, I would choose it.

But for now... I dealt with the pain.

2:00 Arrive to my room. Contractions are really intense at this point, and I can barely talk in between them.  There are a million and one people in the room, everything is set up for baby to be delivered, and I have more paperwork to sign, an IV to go in, and an ultrasound to be completed to "confirm" the baby is head down.

While this is going on, I get irritated with one of the residents, and end up saying that to the nurses who then make the decision that he won't be coming back in again. At this point, I was in too much pain to even care who was coming in and out of my room. My eyes barely remained open.

2:30 I had about 5 back to back hardest contractions of my labor, and I whimpered out "I can't do it. I can't." My nurses were great and kept trying to support me, "Yes you can, you're doing great! Yes you can." And then I said "I need an epidural."

It was amazing how quickly those nurses got things going, because my anesthesiologist was in the room within a couple of minutes, didn't ask me ten million questions, and could see that I was in excruciating pain with little relief in between.

He got it. On one stick. Unlike the last time where it took 4-5. And he was able to do it in between my 1.5 minute apart contractions. My hero in that moment in time.

But the pain. Oh the pain, I said. I still feel it. He gave me a boost. And another boost. And then finally, it was like the angels were singing in my room and I was a completely new person. I felt like I could actually breath again, and I believe I finally did just that.

I opened my eyes and I could tell that everyone was just staring at me with the next contraction on the screen, waiting to see what I would do/say next. Apparently, I didn't even know I was having one.

The ice was broken when my anesthesiologist says,

"Well, good to see you aren't cursing anymore!" And everyone laughs. Oops, I don't deal with pain well obviously.

2:45 Now that my epidural was working, all questions and procedures were completed, and there was nothing left to do but to have a baby, everyone left and there was finally peace and quiet in my room with just me, my thoughts, and a sleeping husband next to me. With my pain completely dissipated, I was able to quickly text a few people, snap a picture, and post an update to FB/instagram.

"It was time" I said.

3:20 The nurse comes in to check me. The last time I was checked was when I arrived in triage and I was a 5. The first nurse checks me and says she thinks I'm an 8, but wanted her preceptor to double check. The other nurse checks and says, "Oh she's further than that." I'm over here thinking, only 2 numbers left so 9 or 10? The doctor then comes in to check and says I'm in between 9-10, and it's time to call the doctor.

When I hear those words, I immediately ask if we could have the anesthesiologist come back and turn down my epidural so I can feel my contractions to push. They make a call in, and it was decided to just completely turn it off.

4:25 The head doctor comes in and decides to check the baby one more time. At that point, he discovers that the baby is positioned posterior, meaning the back of P's head was against my back. He stated how he couldn't believe that I rapidly progressed with her being positioned posterior. He decided to go ahead and try to turn her head with me pushing during a contraction.

My nurse looks at me and asks, "You feel like you can do this?"

The adrenaline was starting to rush through me. This is the part of labor that I looked forward to. This is what I dreamed about. "Yes! I could feel my legs, I could push."

So I grabbed my legs, and with the coaching of my wonderful nurse and doctor during a contraction I pushed in three 10 second increments.

"Stop stop stop!" The doctor says. "I need to gown up, she's coming out."

And he hurries to the table, while the other doctor helps tie him up, and the nurse hurries to try to get my mirror in front of me, but we wouldn't get it in time, because with the next contraction I push, and there she is. She comes out so quick, that I almost don't even realize what happened.

She cries so loud, and so strong, and she is finally actually here.

4:29 a.m. Sweet Polina Jane is officially born.

She's placed on my chest, and Andrew and I kiss her. Another child for us to call as our own. Another blessing from the Lord. She's here, early, and healthy, and we are completely, utterly, smitten by her. 

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Polina Jane Birth Story PART ONE

There are so many things that I don't want to forget about my sweet girl's birth story. So many details, dates, and significant events that led up to her birth. While all three of my births have been similar in many ways, they still have varying stories and each are beautiful in their own way.

When I was pregnant with Polina, and especially toward the end of my pregnancy, I remember specifically telling anyone that would ask...."I'm just not ready". That although I had always been antsy with the other two for them to arrive into this world, I had a completely different feeling this time around. Not because I didn't want to meet her, but because I just wanted to keep her in there and savor this time with her as long as possible. And also because I didn't want a false alarm. I wanted that story where you say you woke up in the middle of the night, gush of water, and things went crazy from there. I wanted pain. I wanted to yell at my husband. I wanted to drive fast and I wanted to barely make it to the hospital.

In other words, I had lost my mind.

But. Let's get to her birth story. Let's actually start a week and a half before her birth, and mention a couple dates. A couple of events. Perhaps these were significant to her arriving in this world earlier than expected, and perhaps not. Regardless, they are important. 

September 5th, 36 weeks pregnant. Attend a beautiful wedding of a good friend, have a date night with the hubby, and dance the night away in tall heels.

September 7th, 36 weeks 2 days. Labor day. Go canoeing and "hiking" lots of stairs with the family. Do a lot of walking, a lot of eating, and enjoying one of our last family trips as a family of four.

September 11th, 36 weeks 6 days. I went in to my scheduled OB appointment.

Everything went well, numbers looked great, and baby's heart beat was absolutely perfect. Toward the end of the visit, my doctor asked if I wanted to go ahead and get checked, and he knew immediately by the smile on my face that the answer would be yes, of course, why even ask! Although, I quickly exclaimed that I know it doesn't mean anything. But this girl? This girl likes to know what's going on.

I was actually surprised when he said I was 3cm and 50% effaced because I honestly had not felt a single contraction this entire pregnancy. No braxton hicks, but definitely tightness down there. Because I was used to the typical abdominal contractions that I had with the other two, I just wasn't sure what to call these and what exactly was going on. Whatever it was, something was working and getting me ready for labor.

Regardless, I remembered being 4cm for a week when I was pregnant with Graham and 3cm for 2 weeks with Elliana, so to me the number didn't mean anything. However, my doctor followed up my measurement with these words....

"I may just not see you next week. Any day now!"

Look, as excited as I was to meet sweet P, and as uncomfortable as I was having to work nights and still take care of two little ones at home, for some reason {for the first time ever in my pregnancies}, I was in no hurry for this one to come out. I still had lots to do on my list prior to her arrival, and I just had not let it mentally sink in just yet. I don't think I realized how real it was. And not only was it real.... but it would be here quite sooner than I expected.

So I worked that night the 11th, and the 12th, and had great nights at work. No contractions, no indication of labor coming soon. All the girls kept saying they wouldn't see me soon, but I brushed it off and felt like I knew my body wasn't ready yet.

September 13th, a Sunday, we spent our day relaxing and doing family things and welcome in the Football season with lots of food and our family over. Nothing significant or exciting about this day. 

September 14th, Monday came. I got up early with the kids and we went on our long route for a walk around the neighborhood— one that we had not taken since my second trimester. I spent the rest of the day cleaning our car out, getting lots of laundry done, and just having fun with the kids outside. Now that I am trying to think about the actual day, I cannot remember details. But then came night, and that's when things begin to really get interesting.

Andrew came home from work and we were outside with our friends playing. I remember how beautiful it was out, and I honestly had no desire to go inside. Not even to make dinner. So we didn't. We stayed outside for hours, and for a good 45 minutes we threw frisbees around with the kids. We rolled down the driveway in a rolling chair with the kids taking turns sitting with us {we are so safe over here}, and I even snapped a picture from that night. I was in one of those moments where you just cannot get over how blessed and grateful you are to be alive.

As the sky began to darken, we realized that we should better get inside and start getting dinner ready. Since I hadn't really prepped anything prior to, the easiest thing to make {and a house favorite of ours} was our homemade pizza. I whipped through the ingredients, we turned on our bluetooth player and played our favorite music, and then in no time two yummy pizzas were in the oven and making our house smell absolutely delicious.

I can remember every detail after that. Andrew and the kids were on the floor playing, and I hear the timer go off. I walk into the kitchen, turn the oven off, put on my oven mitt, and reach for the first of the two pans. As soon as I grasped it, burn. I dropped the pan that flipped the pizza completely over with ingredients smeared all across the oven, and squealed in pain. Andrew ran quickly to find out what happened, and I couldn't explain what it was but said something around the lines of "something didn't work in that process because I just burned my finger."

His response? And something I will never let him live down.....

"Oh yes, there is a hole in the finger of this mitt! I saw that the other day."

Now. Imagine the biggest look of disgust. Picture it in your head. Yes, that. That's exactly what I gave him, with a quick response of "And then you thought it was a good idea to put it back in the drawer?!" 

Initially, I wasn't even as mad about the burn as I was about only having one pizza to eat. Look, I was hungry and 9 months pregnant. But that was because the burn hadn't kicked in yet... and once it did.... oh did it ever.

I started whimpering like a big fat baby, whipped out the ice pack from the fridge [because it's the only thing that would help], and ended up plopping myself in bed early for the night feeling sorry for myself and upset with Andrew. Andrew came up to be with me after putting the kids to bed, and felt so sorry for me that he ran to the store to find something better than an "ice pack." He ended up coming home with some cream, that I wasn't sure if it was safe to use while pregnant so I refused it, and some burn cold wipes. I taped the cold pack to my finger, added a band-aid on top, and then placed the ice pack on that.

Andrew was laying next to me watching Monday night football when he said to me, "what if we had a baby tonight?!" I'm not even sure why he said it, and I had not heard him say those words yet once this pregnancy, but regardless, they were said. I laughed it off, and assured him... no, no baby, and slowly started drifting off to sleep at around 10:30.

That didn't last long, because a little after 11, I woke up to a little "gush" down there. Eyes opened. Andrew watching TV. It's wet down there. I don't say anything right away, and take a moment to rise, just staring at the ceiling wondering what could have possibly come out. Finally, I spoke.

"Andrew... something just came out."  

And then I got out of bed....

{to be continued. because it is already TOO long!} 

Monday, September 14, 2015

New Father Gift Ideas for the first timer, second, or fifth

“This post is part of a social shopper marketing insight campaign with Pollinate Media Group® and Scandinavian Tobacco Group, but all my opinions are my own. #pmedia  #havanahoneys

When I think about the past 9 months, one of the first things that comes to mind is how much more I needed my husband than ever before. With two toddlers, continuing to work full time nights, and staying up during the day with the kiddos until Andrew rolled in the door around 6pm, I was exhausted, cranky, and definitely more impatient than I'd like to admit. Andrew picked up on these cues right away, and would jump right in. Without even asking. He'd take on the bath role, reading books, and putting the kids to bed, all while I took a moment to sit the couch and just decompress. Most nights? I'd fall asleep before he would even make it back down for night time in-home dates.

I wouldn't say that this pregnancy was the hardest of my three, but I would definitely say that I felt every moment of it. I have felt the fatigue, the pain in my joints, and the heaviness of carrying around a full term baby. I have felt the restless nights, the constant getting up, and the difficulty of simple tasks like-getting out of bed.

And I've always felt the full love and support of my husband.

Often times, when we think of a mom delivering a baby, we think about people bringing her flowers, balloons, and even a "push gift" presented to her by her husband. Everyone congratulates both parents, but it's the mother that they focus on when acknowledging all her hard efforts in bringing a healthy baby into this world.

But the fathers. My baby father, is someone that also needs just as equal acknowledgement. Sure, they may not be the one to physically feel the heaviness of a 9 month pregnancy, but they definitely feel the emotional and mental roller coaster. And for that, they deserve more than just a high five.

So this year, I decided to make him something special to take to the hospital on the day of the delivery. Something for him to do, something for him to enjoy, and something for a little later when I know that we will need on those late nights and early mornings—hello coffee again.

I had so many ideas when it came time to making his New Father Gift idea basket, but I tried to not overwhelm him and keep it simple. I really wanted to make sure that I kept some of his favorite things in mind, and to think about what he would reach for come go-time. Push time. This baby is coming soon-time!

So here are my list of things I added, and some others that would be a great thing to think about. I also think it would be cute to attach a little fun sticky note to each item to explain why you chose it and how they may benefit from it. For instance Starbucks gift card: for all the times we will need coffee to stay awake. And gum- because you know we will forget to brush our teeth more times than not. It's fun, and makes this whole process even that much more real.

New Father Gift Ideas

1. Gum. This is simple, easy, compact, and necessary. With not knowing how long labor will last, and knowing the nerves are going to be kicking in, it's nice to have something to chew on and to get your mind off of what is about to happen.

2. Book. I suggest one that prepares {or reminds} dad of the early days and what to expect. Although a pleasure read would also be nice, it definitely isn't ideal during the labor process. Remember, they have to frequently come and rub our feet, hold our hand, and fluff our pillow. Even if it's not their first time around, they do appreciate a little reminding of what to expect.

3. Gift card. To treat themselves to either something they enjoy or something as simple as coffee.

4. A gift. A small gesture of appreciation. For Andrew, I chose his favorite cologne. So he can cover up the smell of "being up all night" and then going to work the next day. You know, that smell.

5. A treat. For my husband, I chose gum. For yours, it may be twizzlers. But definitely something sweet and yummy for them to enjoy. Now just don't get mad when they are eating in front of you during labor and you know that you can't have a single bite. You might just have to remind them to wait on that one.

6.  A celebration gift. Havana Honeys is the way to go. After we are settled in our room, and after all the commotion starts to settle down, it will give him the opportunity to leave for a moment, to walk outside to breathe in some fresh air, and enjoy a cigar for himself {and maybe his dad or friend} with tasty flavors and great Cuban quality.

**To sign up for free coupons and to find a retailer near you visit Havana Honeys website here.

So here we are, 9 months in, and ready for a baby to be here any day now. With our bags packed, car seat installed, baby items out and ready to be used, and finally my gift basket for the best father ever, I can officially say we are ready. 

We are ready for our lives to be turned upside down all over again, but in a great way. Our arms are open, our hearts are ready to be filled again, and the excitement is at its ultimate high.

We will see you soon baby Polina.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Why we skipped on preschool.

I know I have mentioned homeschooling a lot on this blog. In fact, it is one of the main things that I would describe about myself when talking about motherhood. It's {teaching} something that I have done with the kids since they were about 9 months, and I have had a passion for it since I was a little girl. Although I have to say that my patience and persona is definitely not of one I would describe as sweet, quiet, or soft-spoken, I've definitely grown throughout the years.  I have learned a lot, and I am slowly {but surely} getting to that point where I am proud of the work that I do with the kids and how I handle certain situations.

So.... preschool.

For two years, Elli was enrolled in a one day "preschool" at our church that we attend. It was a 4 hour class, one time a week, and she absolutely adored it. Initially, when I placed her in this preschool, I did so because I was pregnant with Graham and unsure of how I was going to handle two kids and working full time nights. Basically, I viewed it as an opportunity for me to "sleep" while Elli had a good time socializing with other little people.

And so after the first year ended, we decided to continue and go on and do it again the following year. I loved that it was 1 day a week, and that I didn't miss out on seeing my baby girl. I loved that it was something that she enjoyed, and I loved that she had an opportunity to be away from her comfort zone and be around others and learn from them. I truly did love it. And I know E loved it even more.

We did pick up some bad habits at "preschool" and it was amazing to me how much 4 hours could impact her behavior. It then reminded me of how much harder it would be if the kids went to school more days/more hours and trying to correct/fix certain things that they pick up from others. They are too young at this age to know any better, and so it was even more important to make sure we talked about our days and talked about what went well/what didn't.

After the second year, this past winter, it was time for re-enrollment. When we found out that the option of 1 day was no longer available for 4 year olds, and instead she would have to do 3 days a week, I knew right then what we would be deciding to do. I also knew that if E did preschool, that G would have to do it as well because he would already cry when we dropped her off wanting to go in his own "classroom." We talked to E extensively about it, put all the pros/cons out on the table, and really discussed what our goals and reasons were.

It was simple.

We could not justify a reason to pay $400+ a month for the kids to socialize and play. They were already very social, spent much time around kids from play dates to park dates, and had no problem making friends with others. Academically, Elliana had already been reading for almost a year and met the expectations of that of a first grader. Graham would have definitely benefited from a 1/day a week program because he is very attached to his mama, but again we were placed in a dilemma where E would have to go in with us when we dropped him off and that would make her sad.

Surprisingly, when we asked E if it was okay if we took a break from "school" at church, he simply shrugged her shoulders and said yes. I think I wiped a little sweat off my forehead at that time, and definitely sighed a deep breath of relief. I was so worried, so concerned, so anxious about the idea of taking her out of something she loved. And here she was, totally okay with it.

Now that the school year is here and she sees her friends going back to school, she still hasn't mentioned not even once about missing it or wishing she could be going. It was again reconfirmed our decision, and has most certainly given me a peace of mind. Although, I do have to say, she tells me often that since she will be FIVE next year, that she will start kinder. Not sure where she even learned this {as we have never talked about kinder}, but it breaks my mama heart to even think about this. We have mentioned to her many times that if she wants to go to school, that she can start with 1st grade, but if she continues to be this passionate about it, we may just have to start next year. Ultimately, the kids will be an equal part in the decision making and they will be able to decide what they want to do. Doesn't change the fact it will hurt my little heart. Bad.

But back to preschool. Back to why I am so glad we didn't do it. Back to telling you why I love this time we have together at home.

Bonding. Time. Family.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than spending time with the kids, loving on them, and having the opportunity to watch them grow. But do you know what is even better than that? Seeing the relationship between the two of them. It is seriously so amazing how they can spend hours pretend playing together, and the conversations that I hear between them. Sure, they fight {and they can fight hard}, but the way they love each other? It is way deeper than I would have ever envisioned for my children. They are seriously stuck to each other, and I truly believe in the importance of this time together before their world gets turned upside down with the crazy hectic schedule of school {in the future}.

I want nothing more than to homeschool these kiddos as long as I possibly can. Not just because I see the amazing benefits of learning at home without distractions, but because of the time that we get to spend together. The fun that we get to have. And the memories that we are able to create.


So have I regretted our decision to keep the kids home? Not one bit. And from the looks of it, I think we are all much happier at home.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Where have I been.

Where have I been. What have I been doing. Why am I not blogging anymore. Will I be stopping?

Those are all questions that I have asked myself in the past month when I have realized that every day that goes by that I don't blog is just another day that pushes me closer and closer to shutting it down completely.

I won't sit here and make every excuse in the book of how I have been so utterly busy that at times I don't even have time to think. Although it's true. I won't even lie and say that the passion and desire to write down our little life story has slowly {quickly} dissipated over time. Because it has. And I won't even mention that preparing for a third baby has been overwhelmingly confusing. I feel like I'm not prepared at all.

I won't do any of those things. I will simply just tell you what is going on.

To begin with, I'm now 36 weeks pregnant. I should probably go back and actually look when the last time I even mentioned my pregnancy, but I'm going to guess it was probably around 10 weeks. Well a lot changes in 10 weeks. We are officially in our 9th month and realistically, the baby may even come between the next 1-4 weeks. That's a really small time frame for a family that has not even chosen a middle name for their little one.

We have, however, chosen a first name. It's been chosen for quite some time, but I just never shared it on social media. Our family and friends did of course know. So a drum roll..... really, not that exciting for anyone but us.... but... it's.....

P o l i n a

It's not a family name, but it is a Russian name that we loved and when we heard it, it was like a no-brainer. That's what she is supposed to be named. The kids call her Poli {sounds like Polly}, and we are loving having a name to the baby that will be blessing our home so so soon.

Pregnancy has been great, but definitely tiring. I think part of the problem is that I am continuing to work full time {nights} while taking care of the kids full time during the day and then squeezing in photography sessions in the mix.

Which by the way, photography has been blooming. Like really really really becoming something bigger than expected. I did two weddings in July {while 7 months pregnant}, and I fell in love with the images I was able to capture. Then had a few family sessions and then another wedding photo shoot {recreation type shoot} just last week. I already have 5 sessions lined up for while I'm on maternity leave, and I absolutely cannot complain about all these opportunities to continue to grow and advance my skills. I think this has definitely taken place of blogging as I am much more passionate about this than ever before.

Back to pregnancy talk. We are all packed up and the car seat is officially installed. Elli keeps talking about the carseat next to hers and how she is going to sing and talk to baby P. It will be interesting to see how Graham reacts to the screaming in the car as well. 

I'm a little over 36 weeks, which means that I am just about to full term. Usually around this time I am already itching for the baby to come, but for some reason I am content with her staying in there longer because I'm not quite sure any of us really even realize that another baby is coming. I mean, it's obvious by my large belly, but it still has not hit us somehow. Not sure how.

Baby nursery. By this time with the other two, I had completed full nurseries. This time around? There was no work to be done. We have decided to keep Graham's nursery {that he hasn't slept in over a year}, just how it is, and not make him a big boy room until P is about a year old. Then we will either consider making the 4th bedroom her room or she can share a room with E as she already has a trundle bed. Not to mention, we plan on moving in a couple years, so we just want to hold off making any drastic changes. Also? She can't read, or tell, nor care. Love how different having a third baby is compared to the first. You really realize what is important and what is not. 

Vacation. We went to hilton head again this year and it was just as great as the years prior. It was relaxing and wonderful all at the same time, even when I was 8 months pregnant. It's exactly what I needed before the arrival of this baby.

My goal is to actually sit down and work on a real vacation post and share our pictures and videos like I have done in prior years. Family vacations are so important to us, and I am so happy that we have done this every year for the kids. I know that some of their fondest memories of childhood will most definitely be from the beach. 

For now. There's the update. Not a big one, but just enough to speed things up a bit. 

We are alive. We are doing well. Blogging isn't quite over, just yet. I just need to get my groove back. 


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