Deuces

Alana, As the baby in my family I know being the younger can sometimes make you feel like you've somehow missed out.  It can make you feel like there's a little less fanfare over your milestones, your firsts and I admit it may be hard for me to someday differentiate between you and your sister's early days. Who did what, when. What makes each of you unique.  Why do there seem to be less pictures of you than Sayler? (I'm going to start working on it, I promise!) So let me tell you a story about how different you were from the start since I know I was remiss to not write about my pregnancy with you as I did with big sister. Aside from vomiting when I brushed my teeth and feeling very, VERY sick 24/7 the first few months of pregnancy with you, once I kicked the first trimester's ass I had a wonderful pregnancy with you. I felt incredibly happy for the last 6+ months carrying you.  Big sister was so excited and impatient to welcome you, too.  Daddy knew you were a girl

"... It's so spiders don't get inside..." It's the story I give my daughter when I cannot explain something in 5-year old terms.   It is the story I give my daughter when I am tired. It is the story I give when I want my daughter to avoid danger.  It is the story I give my daughter when I am quietly praying there won't be a follow-up question. But there always is.  Today it was the absorbency pack inside the jar of multivitamins. On another day or time perhaps I would have been able to explain the molecular reasoning behind why these little packs wind up in everything from multivitamins to sneakers. Perhaps I would have been able to anticipate the follow-up questions and calmly and patiently explain every detail. The amazing version of myself would even include a T-Chart or Pie Chart or a compare and contrast analysis.  I would have been able to break-down, exactly, why you are never to eat those pesky packs or leave them lying around for when baby sister craw

Sometimes you hit a wall. I hit the wall in Costco. I had 2 kids- one baby in the cart, one hanging off the cart- frequently jumping on the cart... Then off.... Then back on... Then off again.... One baby whimpering... A signal that a meltdown was imminent. One 5 year old pointing to all the things "we should get..." "Wait mommy... Stop for a minute..." She'd implore. But I couldn't stop. Must move. Must push. Because when the cart stops, the crying starts. Must keep moving. Read the labels... Push the cart simultaneously ... Back and forth... "Mmmmhmmmm..." To my 5-year old as I pushed and evaluated the sugar content... Back and forth.  Don't stop moving.  I knew I had hit the wall when I found myself on my third lap around the super -size warehouse- still unable to find what I was looking for. Wait... What was I looking for?  I forgot. Then I remembered. Then I forgot. Lap again. Oh... Right... The chips Lloyd likes. And the apples he and Say