As I write this, you are curled up on my feet watching Handy Manny. At three years and four months old, you are fascinated with anything related to tools. Anything. You want to know about each tool, what it does, if Daddy uses one at work, how old you need to be before you can have that tool, if Mommy has ever used the tool and so on. We discuss tools at great length. I love seeing your passion develop and I love encouraging you to pursue the things that excite you.
You love school. You go to the On My Own program at school, twice a week. You love your teachers, you love your friends and you get so serious about telling me about your day. I wish I could be there to drop you off and pick up but fortunately, you still want to tell me about your class when I pick you up from your Mumma’s house at the end of the day. I’m so excited that school is a place you are excited to go and that you feel encouraged in your learning journey.
You absolutely adore your little brother. You call him your “Wynnipynn” or “Wynn Pynn Pynn”. One of your favorite activities to to tell Wynn about your tools or to give him your old Megablocks while you play next to him with your Duplos. You are his biggest cheerleader during his physical therapy appointments and are very well attuned to his state of being. When he is sick, you want to know what Mommy is doing to fix it. When he is happy, you are usually the source of his mirth.
I can’t believe you have been mine for so long. My life before you seems like a distant memory. I remember it fondly, it was wonderful and it shaped me into the woman I am today but the present day with you and your brother are so much more vibrant than the life I once lived.
I love you.
I’m a creature of habit. I wake up each morning, I stumble down the stairs to brew a cup of decaf coffee and diffuse a few drops of cedarwood before work. The warm, woody smell takes over my kitchen each morning and gives me a sense of grounding before I start my day.
Cedarwood plays a role in how I manage my ADD. While many people find that cedarwood is relaxing and calming, individuals with ADD may find that it helps them to channel their energy and focus.
It is also documented as an insecticide (add it to an oily bug spray in summer, anti-fungal, an expectorant, antibacterial, anti-infectious, antiseptic, astringent (great for oily skin or dandruff prone scalps), diuretic, sedative, lymphatic stimulant, and oxygenator.
I recommend diffusing cedarwood for one hour, up to three times a day or appealing topically. Remember to always dilute if using on your children.
Much like lavender, this is a multitasking oil that will earn its place in your oil stash. At less than $15 a bottle, cedarwood is an oil that gives you a ton of bang for your dollar.
Have a great testimonial about using cedarwood for you or your family? Please share it in the comments section below!
These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease. Always consult with your primary care physician before using any essential oil.
In my naive, only-child ways, I truly believed adjusting to life as a family of four would be easy. B and I have kept a tiny human alive for the last two years and seven months who has become more and more independent. People far less equipped than us have done the same. And the same less equipped people managed to add additional tiny humans to their families. B and I should have had this in the bag.
But here’s the thing. Your independent, creative, funny toddler may start to resemble the Honest Toddler. Suddenly there are temper tantrums coming out of a child that previously kept good listening ears on all day. He’ll only want to eat when the baby is eating and the rest of the time can be found orchestrating a hunger strike with a level of enthusiasm that makes you wonder if Child Protective Services will be appearing at your house soon. When he eventually caves on his hunger strikes, he’ll refuse to eat anything but strawberries (which isn’t helpful because you don’t have any in the house).
Navigating sibling relationships is such a strange journey for me. This is the closest I’ve ever been to siblings before. Even though W is only two weeks old, there is a dynamic relationship forming between him and T. It is fascinating to watch and such a heavy responsibility when I think of all the ways that my behavior will influence that relationship.
If there is one thing I want for my boys, I want them to be close in adulthood. I want them to feel like they always have each other. I want them to be the best man in the other’s wedding. I want them to always have a sense of family because of the other. I don’t want them to feel alone like I frequently do.
On May 20th, at 9:29 in the evening, Brian and I joyfully welcomed our second child, Wynn William. We are so grateful for a healthy boy, a safe delivery and the blessing of becoming a family of 4.
Wynn weighed in at 8 pounds, 4 ounces and 20 inches long. I was in labor for less than 9 hours and pushed for less than a half hour.
While I’m still a bit tender today, my birth experience with Wynn was absolutely incredible and I can honestly say it was everything I ever dreamed of.
I’m waiting. Five days away from my due date with Baby Number 2 and I am waiting.
I am contracting. I am dilated to 3 centimeters. My body is doing everything it is supposed to do but still I wait.
I am ready to have this little boy. I am ready to see his face. I am ready to hold him in my arms. I am ready for this family to become a family of four.
I am tired of waiting in this time of transition.
I went to a baby shower this afternoon for a girl I had grown up with at church. I am a few years older than she is so at times I felt like there was some confusion from other people about why I was there but there was always a closeness between the two of us.
Part of what makes a baby shower weird is the number of women who around my mother’s age and older who like to make comments about how “they didn’t have that when I had a baby and my baby turned out fine”. Which may or may not be true, depending on who you ask but that is another topic for another time. What makes it weird is that these are basic safety items. Or items that they wished they had when they were young mom’s but didn’t have available.
The other part that makes the shower weird is how it prompts women to ask those of child bearing age when they are going to have a baby, have another baby or stop having babies. If you have a boy, you are asked if you want a girl. If you have a girl, you are asked if you want a boy. You’ll be asked how many babies you want and questioned about your work status. I always love the question “So you’re a full time mom?” because it implies that for the 40 hours a week that I’m at my employer’s place of business, I stop being a mother. As if it is a switch that I can flip for 8+ hours a day.
For the most part, I’m able to remind myself that these questions come from a kind place. People aren’t asking these questions to make me feel uncomfortable or put me on the spot. They are asking these questions to form a bond, to feel a human connection. They are trying to take an interest in my life. And for that, I am grateful.
Every once in a while, a moment happens that blows my mind. Someone asked me today if I was pregnant as they touched the part of my belly that I’m not quite sure will ever go away even though I’ve been working hard at the gym to lose it. When I smiled and said that I hoped she didn’t know something I didn’t know, she asked if I had plans to get pregnant soon. Apparently, when you pass thirty, time is ticking.
It made me wonder if my uterus if falling down on the job. I had thought we were okay on time. T is only 20 months, full of energy and at a point where he can feel like a full time job. An adorable full time job but much like a job in retail, you don’t get the chance to get off your feet.
The worst part if knowing that I’ll probably forget all of this in 30 to 40 years and still ask these awkward questions.
So my mom threw her back out. Like call the doctor, beg for muscle relaxers, hide at home threw her back out. Which is problematic for me because my mom watches Baby T during the day so I can work.
Of course yesterday we had friends offer to watch T for us but that’s when we still thought my mom would be okay for this morning so I turned them down and then woke up to the realization that it might be too late to call and ask for help. Because they have a little girl who does not sleep through the night with the same level of skill as T and they were probably exhausted.
So we went to the office because I had two or three things that I just had to get done. And then we went to the supermarket. Mainly because I have this idea that Stay at Home Mommy has the time/energy/sanity to bake and I refuse to pay $45 to order lactation cookies online. We get home. We have a nurse and a cuddle. I put T down for a nap.
And nothing. The boy won’t sleep. He’ll cry. He’ll wrestle sleep sheep (who is playing whale noises at the moment). He’ll make desperate sounds I refer to as “Raptor Noises”. But he won’t sleep. Apparently, my baby boy will take epic naps at his grandmother’s house for three hours every morning but if I just want him to sleep for an hour and a half so I can make lactation cookies, that is way too much to ask.
He prefers to sleep on his boppy with my nipple in his mouth. I call it sleep nursing. He’ll sleep as long as he can drool out breast milk but the second that nipple is put away, he’s awake and he’s angry and I have failed as a parent (in his perception, fortunately, not mine).
I read somewhere that babies save their worst behaviors for their mothers and I wonder if T is testing that already. I suppose if he truly knows my love is unconditional, he can unleash the crazy that he might not want to share with the rest of the world.
Its a good thing I love his face.
On October 20th, Brian and I welcomed Tristan Thomas Morgan into the world after 31.5 hours of labor. He was 8 pounds, 10 ounces and 22 inches of awesome. He looks just like B but with my proportions (seriously, this boy has ridiculously long fingers for someone who can’t even use fingers yet).
Needless to say, I am completely in love with this beautiful creature.
Your days are numbered. I don’t mean this as a threat but as a reality check. You are quickly disappearing and I wonder how much longer I’ll be seeing you.
I didn’t think you would disappear so quickly. After all, you have always seemed oddly cavernous. At times, impossibly deep. As a teenager, I thought you severely impaired my ability to look as awesome as I could in a bikini. But still, you are disappearing and I thought we had a little more time.
I have to remind myself that behind your quickly disappearing space is a tiny human that is one part Dorie, one part Brian and all parts love. And that tiny human also does not have a belly button which makes me feel slightly better about my own lack.
So Bellybutton, I look forward to seeing you again soon. But not too soon. Try to be missing until October
Remember in elementary school, probably somewhere around the 4th grade, when girls started getting pulled aside for “The Talk”? Puberty was rapidly approaching so there was this urgent need to prepare girls for the changes that were about to happen to their bodies. Of course we don’t tell these girls the reality of those changes. Instead we tell them that some wonderful changes are about to happen to their bodies and they might feel dramatic but its how they will become women, blah, blah, blah…
Please note we leave out the reality of bleeding from your vagina once a month until The Change happens (tampons are expensive). We also leave out the judgment that women will pass on other women based on the changes that happen to their bodies but that’s another story for another time.
This story is about how everyone lied to me about puberty. Four and a half years after I got The Talk, I finally got my period. Six years after that, I finally had enough breasts that I could buy a bra that fit but it was really just for show since I didn’t need it. The only thing that came in when it was supposed to: Hips. Like those are useful on a young woman with no other curves what so ever.
So after the disappointment that was puberty, I didn’t really believe the hype about pregnancy. Yes, I know, there is nothing more dramatic than a baby growing inside of a person but I was told in puberty changes were coming any day and none of the changes showed up until years had passed.
I had to buy maternity pants at 6 weeks. And by week 10, I went up two full cup sizes. I haven’t been able to see both feet at the same time while standing for about a month now. And I haven’t managed shoe laces in three weeks. FYI, I’m 22 weeks pregnant.
I keep hearing its going to get worse. I finally believe them.