heart of the mama

To love you more than I ever thought possible...

To do anything I can to protect you from pain...

To love you enough to tell you "no" when you need to hear it...

To help you with even the simplest of tasks...

To play with you until fatigue closes my eyes...

To laugh with you just to make you laugh harder...

To sit with you until you fall back asleep...

To ask myself over and over again how God knew I wanted exactly you...

To dream of the day I see you in a wedding dress...

To cry when you cry, no matter the reason...

To recognize that this is the most important work I'll ever do...

To experience joy through your eyes...

To feel brand new and special first thing in the morning...

Noelle, you are the best part of me.

A little Uppy Date

Oh...where to begin? The past few weeks have gone by really quickly, and I am completely shocked that we are looking at the first week of November being over already. Where does the time go? And is there another phrase that basically means "Holy Shit, I'm getting older by the second and my baby isn't a baby anymore?" aside from the cliched "Where does the time go?" If you know of one, let me hear it.

Since my last post, I had Fall Break, which is a nice (and welcomed) break from school. Though I still love teaching and know that there's nothing else that I can see myself doing as a professional, it has been kicking. my. ass. this year. It has left me with very little time to do anything that I sincerely want to do, and thus my blogging, crafting, cooking, organizing, cleaning, exercising, and overall cleanliness have taken a back seat.

Over Fall Break, we took Noelle to a little pumpkin patch and farm. It was pretty cute. The cutest part was when she exclaimed "OH MY GOODNESS!" when she saw a cow. I about fell over dead from the cuteness overdose. We also took her to the Muncie Children's Museum. It was alright. Not much has changed since the last time I was there, which was when I was like 6. But, it was a lot cheaper and closer to home than the Indy Children's Museum, and when all Noelle really cared about was playing in this little water table, I high-fived myself for not spending the $17 per adult and the 3 hours total in the car to take her to the big museum. Maybe next year.

Halloween, of course, was a highlight. Between Luke's residency party and taking the Nugget trick-or-treating (i.e. to my old neighbors at my parents' house), it was a good time. She was a garden gnome. I'm sure she will hate me later for it, but the costume was a hit.

I'm toying with the idea of starting a new blog for my crafting and cooking expeditions. This one is pretty good for emo-rants and picture updates, but as far as all the other stuff I like to do (when I'm not all "wah wah wah, my life is hard..."), I'd like to have a place to organize it. I could just get a binder...but I think I'll go the blog route. So....be looking for that you loyal readers. ;-)

Thanksgiving is in less than 3 weeks. I didn't know if you knew this, but it's on a Thursday this year.

P.S. The Colts suck.

Sweet joy

As I sit here and enjoy the last hour or so of my weekend, I find myself smiling. I'm alone. Noelle's alseep. Luke was home but was called to the hospital because someone else needs him. I've never been good at sharing, but I'm learning.

I made the comment today that we need to take more pictures of Noelle. When she was younger, I was snapping photos all the time, but as she has gotten older, I've found that my camera battery is dead more often than not and I am lacking the motivation to charge it.

I know I should be documenting every second of our days together, but I think the reason why I'm not reaching for my camera as much is I am enjoying truly experiencing each memory with her, and not from behind a camera. I'm enjoying every interaction...every laugh...every word...every everything. I'm making pictures in my mind more vivid than I could ever take.

She's more than what I asked God for. There's a palpable sweetness to her that even strangers can feel. An angel on Earth...and I can't believe she's mine...ours...mine. She's growing so quickly and changing so rapidly. Tonight, she counted to 7.

When she says "Mama," it's like it comes from the bottom of her soul...like it's the only word she needs to know for the rest of her life. She hugs with her whole body and kisses with her whole face. Even when she cries, I find her insanely cute.

She walks on her tippy toes. She laughs when we laugh. She dives to the floor on the last verse of "Ring Around the Rosie," and it might as well be Christmas morning when we turn on Yo Gabba Gabba.

She's pure, simple, sweet joy.

And she's mine.

Ours.

Mine.

Got the fever

I have started and quit this post about 3 or 4 times now. I just don't know how to say what I want to say...so I guess I will just say it.

I want to have another baby!

Like...yesterday.

I think it's been so hard to write it because I'm worried I'll get unsolicited opinions. I don't want to hear about how having a 2 year old and a newborn is hard. I don't want to hear about how it's expensive. I don't want to hear about how I'll have 2 in diapers and 2 in daycare and 2 extra mouths to feed. The chaos we will experience will truly only be such a short time in our lives compared to the lifetime we will have with our family...our complete family, the way we have always wanted.

Noelle is so perfect and amazing and sweet and smart and beautiful. Why wouldn't we want another one? I would think it would be the terror child that never sleeps and is allergic to everything on Earth and causes you to go prematurely gray that would convince you that one child is enough...not the other way around.

We want our children to be close in age. Noelle is already 19 months old. I know people who have had their 2nd child by the time their first is 19 months old. I'm not saying that it's the most ideal, but those families seem to be doing just fine and loving their lives and children.

So...in a nutshell...Baby #2, where are you? :-)

The Balancing Act

Long time, no blog.

If you think this one's bad...you should see my photography blog. It is sooooo out of date that it's not even funny. I don't think I've written a quality post there since the beginning of the summer. BAH!

I'm struggling with balancing my life right now. If I had a balance (like an actual balance that you, well, balance things on), it would be heavily weighted down by SCHOOL/PHOTOGRAPHY, and the other side floating so high up in the air would be the FRIENDS/FAMILY/EXERCISE/HOBBIES/FUN side.

Ugh. Big, fat UGH.

How do people do it? And by people, I mean the cute little put together moms who always look so polished and refreshed as they beebop out the door to work, and then arrive home just in time to get an amazing dinner started with a bottle of wine on the table just as their hott hubby strolls in and says "Thanks, Babe, you're the BEST!" all before she puts on her yoga pants and sweats it out so she doesn't look like a fat, frumpy mess? I KNOW there are women out there like this, and I just want to BE one of them.

There's got to be something that can be removed from my plate. I think what I am going to have to start doing is leaving school at 4:00 no matter what. I can't keep staying until 5:00 or 5:30. It's not good for my sanity or for Noelle's. I NEED to be able to decompress and have some time in my evening. I NEED to be able to wind down and breathe and relax and enjoy the things I used to enjoy, such as exercising and sewing and crafting and other things.

So, I'm going to do it. I'm leaving at 4:00 and you can't stop me!

As for photography, I am way over-scheduled. I am behind on sessions, and I am putting my foot down that I am no longer scheduling sessions from now until January. I can't. I won't. I need to have a break.

I think I would feel so much better if I had time for some physical activity. I miss Zumba so much and the friends I made there over the course of 2 1/2 years. I enjoyed that outlet a lot and I have been hesitant to try it in Muncie because I know it won't be as good as Fishers. I know this because the instructor in Fishers is DA.BOMB and that's all there is to it. So I am being a Bitter Betty about it and am digging my heels in. As a result? I'm getting fatter. By the DAY!

The joys!

I wish I could write a non-whiny post. But I can't. I tried. Didn't work.

So, here I sit. Saturday night. Luke's on call. I am about to embark on an editing extravaganza to end all editing extravaganzas. Don't you wish you were me?

Big word for a little girl

The time had come. I walked into daycare at about 5:00 p.m. on Friday, and my baby girl was crying. This is never a good sight to see...especially when you feel horrible all day for having her in daycare in the first place.

So, I quickly ask what happened, and I was told that Noelle had to be scolded today. SCOLDED! As Noelle was sniffling hard and had tears streaming down her cheeks, I asked what she did. They said that she walked across the room and smacked one of the workers in the face for no reason! Now, I wasn't totally shocked because Noelle does have a "heavy hand" when it comes to hitting. She has been known to hit me on the arm and sometimes the mouth but she usually is giggling and not realizing that hitting is bad. We always take her hands and tell her a stern "no," but we haven't gone much further than that with discipline. I am a really big believer in discipline, but I also really believe in age-appropriate discipline. Children have to understand that what they are doing is wrong for the discipline/punishment to mean anything. And I am not, nor will I ever be, a spanker. Never, ever. Why would I teach my child that hitting is wrong through hitting her?

I digress.

They didn't do anything inappropriate, but they wanted her to say she was sorry. This is a pretty huge concept for a little girl to understand. Because Noelle says any and every word in the dictionary, she did say she was sorry and gave the girl a hug. I then scooped her in my arms and held her, and as she was still sniffling into my shoulder, she kept uttering "sorry....sorry..." Oh, it was the WORST! So painful and heartbreaking to hear your little baby girl crying sorry into your shoulder.

The whole way home she continued to sniffle and say "sorry" every few minutes. I couldn't help but in those moments feel an extreme amount of love and defensiveness for my daughter. I kept telling her how good of a girl she is and how much I love her. I told her hitting isn't nice and it hurts people, but she's not a bad girl.

And then my guilt turned on full blast. I went through all the ways that this incident was my fault. First and foremost, if I didn't choose/have to work, then she wouldn't have been in daycare to begin with. She would have only hit me in the face and I could have dealt with it in my own way. Second of all, if I would have left school early like I wanted to, then I would have been there before the assault was committed. I got there too late, and too late it was.

Ugh.


Sigh.


Sniffle.

If Noelle truly understood the word "sorry," then I would tell her I'm sorry for not being the most perfect mommy on Earth. I'm sorry you have to get up at 6:00 a.m. and go to daycare all day for 9-10 hours. I'm sorry that things are hectic and crazy sometimes and you don't get all of our attention.  I'm sorry that you might think I don't love you as much as the mothers who stay at home love their kids, but Heaven knows that's not the case.

I'm sorry.

3 Years

It's been 3 years.

Three years ago this day, we were excited to go to our first baby doctor appointment together. We weren't too nervous. We didn't know we had a reason to be. We were just excited and ready to meet our doctor and possibly see the little peanut on the ultrasound screen.

Everything changed so quickly. I still hear the words and see Dr. Ertle's face as she expressed her sympathy and disappointment for us. We lost the baby. Still...so haunting.

In some ways, it hurts more now than it did then. Before, I didn't know what I was missing. I had never been a mommy before. Now, I am so aware of the profound love you feel for your child, and my heart aches for the one I never held.

I suppose the biggest lesson I learned throughout the whole process is that time heals all wounds. I'm not saying it doesn't hurt and that there's not a scar...and that a little part of me doesn't die with every story of another woman's miscarriage or pregnancy loss...but I am saying that I am no longer raw with emotion and I can talk openly about the pain I felt then and the peace I feel now. I can thank time and faith....and if I am being honest...I will give about 75% of the credit to time and 25% to faith. I'd be lying if I said my faith wasn't shaken, damaged, and bruised through it all...but I'm working on healing that, too.

So, to our first baby, who we loved before we ever knew we lost...we still think about you all the time. And you have the coolest little sister in the world.