Bedtime prayers

Milo said his first all-by-himself bedtime prayer the night before last. Nothing too fancy. Just this:
"Wah-way, gangkgoo for day. Hep the food. In Shua's name, ahhhhhhhmen!"
Okay, I know. It was more of a mealtime prayer. Or maybe he meant to help the food stay in mommy's tummy, which was a much-needed request. Either way, Nate and I were so proud we had to choke back tears. Watching kids grow up is amazing and heart-wrenching at the same time.

Check, check, check

Here's how you know you are really and truly pregnant (well, aside from peeing on a little stick or seeing your doctor...):

1. You spend 20 minutes weeping over a Pinterest pin of the 40 most powerful photos of all times.

2. You then try to distract yourself by moving to another room and end up crying over your son's two little shoes lying by the door where he took them off himself.

3. You spend days unable to choke down anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, and then find yourself eating four crispy tacos (with beans instead of meat) from Taco Bell at 10:00 at night.

4. You can smell your dogs wherever they are. Even when they're outside.

5. Simple tasks like throwing in a load of laundry become daunting, and spending an hour playing Bingo on the iPad trumps every other activity.

6. Even thinking about going to the freezer to take out some chicken to thaw literally makes you run to the bathroom and puke.

7. Your cheeks are sunken in while your stomach has given up and rounded out at 9 weeks (muscle memory sucks).

8. Texas-shaped tortilla chips taste better than almost anything.

9. One minute you're alert, and then you're startled awake several hours later.

10. Did you forget about the crying? Because sure enough, you'll be all emotional about something any second now...

Okay, checked the list, and all 10 are accurate. Oh my word, guys. I think I'm pregnant!

Milo lingo

One of the funnest things about having an almost-two year old is listening to the new words and phrases he comes up with every day. Like, all of a sudden, he's referring to himself as "me." Today he told me "cars racing" as he moved them all over the table. We looked at pictures from the other day and he literally said, "Daddy, me, bow ties." And the other day he completely astounded me when we looked at a colors book and he said every one, including gray (he previously only said blue and red).

Yep, he's a clever one, that Milo. But I love that he still calls Bruiser "Zoozies," his feet "feeps," and the color red "za." Hanging out with Milo is a trip for sure. I'm thinking a video is going to be in order really soon...

A perfect mix

I always knew Milo would be a sensitive kid, because both Nate and I were (and still are). He recently started really grasping what emotions mean, and as we read a book about a fire truck this morning, I pointed out that he was sad. Poor Milo was heartbroken for this poor truck, telling me, "Mommy, fire cup (truck) sad." He then proceeded to hold the book to his cheek, make kissing sounds, and tell the truck, "Ay-kay, cup. Ay-kay." (Okay, truck.) My heart completely melted, and I had to gulp down tears and pray that he would always be sensitive to others and want to make them okay.

And then, of course, five minutes later he was building block towers and knocking them down as he laughed, so at least we know he's a good mix of sensitive and tough, right?

Look at my boys, all ready for a "hats and ties" tea party birthday celebration.

Cozy up

I remember caring a lot about pajamas when I was younger. I know for a fact that my mom dressed us in footie blanket sleepers until we were well into elementary school, and thank goodness. We grew up in the North, and there's nothing worse first thing in the morning than warm feet on a cold floor. Anyway, something happened around high school or college, and I think it was the fact that people started wearing their pajamas out in public, and they just didn't seem special anymore.

Fast forward a number of years to the precious Dantlets, who rocked pjs, slippers, and robes on a regular basis, and I decided that sleepwear was cool again (mainly for small children). And then came Milo, who wears a pair of footies more adorably than anyone I've ever seen. You know about the Cars slippers that he wears faithfully, and we bought him some big boy, two-piece pajamas with no feet. All he needs now is a robe and he's well on his way to becoming a sleepwear model. He's had lots of practice recently - we've been staying in pjs most of the day lately thanks to the little Sprout!

Just so you know, Nate is standing mere inches from Milo here - I don't just stand him up on the table and hope for the best...

Fresh perspective

I know I've admitted this on the blog before, but when I'm having a rough time, I tend to go on hiatus in every area of my life. I try to disappear until things are going better and I have something to offer again. Have you noticed a little absence here on the blog? I can't lie. It's been an extra-rough bad time, and what felt like the worst part is that I'm supposed to be happy about it.

Do you remember when I was pregnant with Milo? I puked from 8 weeks right on through the entire second trimester (just FYI, most people stop between weeks 12 and 14), lost weight instead of gaining, and spent an entire summer (after I was finished teaching summer school) locked in my house. It was a pretty bad time.

Bad doesn't even begin to explain how the last two weeks have gone, though (And honestly, has it only been two weeks? It feels like it's been forever). Not only have I puked all day and all evening, I've been completely unable to sleep, sometimes puking 6 or 7 times a night until I finally gave in and took a Zofran. But unlike pregnancy with Milo, Zofran hasn't even helped - just left me dry-heaving instead of bringing anything up. I haven't been able to eat anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, which makes me barely energetic enough to roll over, so I've lain in the recliner almost non-stop, lethargically praying that Milo will completely forget this time in both of our lives ever existed. Which brings me to the topper - last time, I just had me to worry about, and if I wanted to lie in bed crying all day, that was my business. This time, I've got a little man who needs attention, love, and to have his diaper changed... It's been discouraging to say the very least.

And then yesterday happened. I'd been up most of the night again, but was trying so hard to wake up with a positive attitude. I had a doctor's appointment at 10 and needed to at least be able to get myself out of the house without collapsing. Nate went with me because it was ultrasound day, and when we finally made it to the waiting room, I breathed a sigh of relief. By the time we got back to the room, I felt so completely peaceful, and when we saw that little baby's heartbeat, something inside me clicked. I might be sick, but it hasn't been without purpose. I'm growing a tiny little sprout that will be here next summer, a perfect little mix of Nate and I. I'm making one of the most precious gifts I can ever give to Milo - a sibling. And for goodness' sake, as wonderful as Milo is, I should be planning to have at least a few more, right? (Well, let's not get crazy. For now, one more should do.)

So all this to say, a little change in perspective can make all the difference. I'm going to keep writing on my blog, through the good days and the bad. I'm going to try to have a positive attitude, but not be afraid to be a little messy every now and then. And I'm going to just be thankful that this time will pass quickly and bring a brand new day.

Dear Nonnie...

Dear Nonnie,
Mommy said that if she has twins, you and Auntie Jen are coming to live with us. Sounds like a plan to me!
Love,
Milo