Missing

I miss you, sweetheart.  I miss you everyday.  Our daughter asks for you, asks about you, everyday .  She tells me, clearly, that you are happy in heaven.  She tells me, "My Daddy is happy."  It's hard for me to believe that, to understand it.  How can you be happy, when you aren't with us?  When my heart splinters every morning that I wake and you aren't here?  Perhaps the freedom from pain, and suffering, makes you happy.  I want that, for you.  I want that, for me too.  But I miss you so much.  It's almost Christmas, here.  I put up our tree.  I hung your ornaments, and your stocking.  What do I fill it with?  It seemed wrong to leave it in a box...but I don't know what I should tuck inside it.  Our dear, darling daughter is excited for Christmas this year.  She's told Santa that she wants a big girl princess bike and a puppy.  The bike, I can do.  The puppy?  Yeah, I'm not sure I can keep another living creature alive.

I really miss you.  I miss your mocking of my collection of Barbie ornaments.  Guess what?  Our sweet daughter has requested a pink, sparkly, dolly tree.  I guess my Barbie ornaments will come in handy this year.

I really miss you.  I miss Bailey's and coffee and pancakes with real maple syrup and your insistence upon pork sausage, not chicken sausage.  I miss our dreams of teaching our sweet daughter to ride a bike on Christmas morning.  I miss our late-night toy-building sessions on Christmas Eve.  We only got one of those and it's not fair.  I miss sipping a glass on wine while you struggled to make heads of a trike building instructions.  I miss the Christmas Eve toasts we gave each other, before slipping into our warm bed

I miss all of you.  I miss you so much, that I can't stand it.  But I know I must.  Our daughter was the most important person in the world to you, and I promised you, at the end, that I would do everything I possibly could to make her happy.

So, my sweetheart, I will do as you would have.  I will make this time of year magical, and enchanting, and special, and everything we promised each other, for her.

I love you.  I miss you.  I hope you are happy and at peace.  That is all we ever wanted and it's all I want for you.

Just Wait

"Just wait."

People start spewing those two hideous little words as soon as you announce your pregnancy.

"You think you pee a lot now?  Just wait until after you give birth, you won't be able to sneeze without wetting your pants."

If someone says this to you, give them a detailed description of Kegel exercises.  Perhaps ask if they'd like a demonstration.  By the way, this little gem isn't true for every woman. 

"Oh, you think your back hurts now?  Just wait until you're in labor."

No pregnant woman on Earth expects her labor to be a breeze.  Don't be Captain Obvious, idiot.

"You should sleep as much as you can right now.  Just wait until the baby is born.  You'll never sleep again."

Obviously, you've never been nine months' pregnant.  It is impossible to get a decent night's sleep, between the constant trips to the bathroom, the inability to get comfortable, the aching back and hips and breasts.

"You guys should have all the sex you can right now.  Just wait, after the baby is born, you'll never have sex again."

A: gross.  Your sex life is no one's business.

B: again, you've obviously never been nine months' pregnant.

C: yes, you will have sex again.  Probably even frequently.  You're not sleeping anyway, right?

"So you're thinking of natural childbirth?  Just wait until you're in labor.  You'll trade your husband for an epidural."

This one drives me up the damn wall.  Women planning on natural childbirth should be encouraged, supported, heralded even.  I believe in you, mama.  You can do it.

"You think you're hormonal now?  Just wait until you have the baby and postpartum depression sets in."

This one drives me nuts, too.  First of all, every woman experiences major hormonal shifts during pregnancy.  That emotional roller coaster can make you feel crazy, happy, sad, listless, energetic, sexy, extremely un-sexy, and excited.  After giving birth, many women experience Baby Blues.  It's temporary, it's normal, and it's okay.  Baby Blues is NOT the same as Postpartum Depression and anyone who gives you the idea that they are has, again, never been pregnant and given birth.  Postpartum Depression is a serious condition and your care provider (OB/GYN, midwife, and/or doula) can help determine if you have it. 

"You think your toddler is driving you crazy?  Just wait until the new baby comes.  You'll lose your mind."

Hey jerk, instead of saying that, why not try this: "After the baby is born, I'd like to come over and give you a hand with Toddler.  I'll bring dinner, too."

Honestly, I don't know why our family, friends, co-workers, and strangers think any of the above comments are helpful.  They aren't funny, either.  And really, WHY would you mess with a pregnant woman?

20 Truths About 2-Year-Olds

Nothing strikes fear into the hearts of parents everywhere more than the words: "two-year-old."  The Legend of the Terrible Two's is not a myth, friends.  It is for real, and it is frightening.

The first year of parenting is essentially about survival - for both you and the baby.  If you can keep the baby alive until her first birthday, you have conquered the world.  You can relax...for a minute.

Then, your baby turns 15 months, or 18 months, or 23 months, and suddenly, it's a whole new game and guess what - there is no instruction manual.  Here are the twenty truths I learned during my daughter's second year of life.

1.  There will be a fight every day.  

Sometimes, it will last from morning until the middle of the night.  Sometimes, it will come on like a blitz attack and be over just as quickly.  But no doubt about it, you and the two-year-old will fight about something EVERY SINGLE DAY.  Also:

2.  You have no hope of winning the fight.

There is no rhyme or reason to the two-year-old's mindset.  Don't try to understand.  Just wait out the storm, then take a few minutes to cuddle your child and remind yourself why you had him in the first place.

3.  A two-year-old mind moves like lightning.

They are brilliant, these small people.  A two-year-old will pick up on language (so watch your mouth), behavior (so watch your finger), and any number of things with a quickness you wouldn't believe.  Tied to this truth, is:

4.  A two-year-old grows bored immediately.

Because their minds are working overtime, the two-year-old needs almost-constant stimulation.  My daughter will insist upon coloring, then promptly discard her crayons in favor of her VReader, only to discover that her play kitchen needs immediate attention.  Try not to get dizzy.

5.  She will watch the same movie five times in a row.

Every day.  Get used to it.  We've seen/listened to "The Lorax" approximately 18,000 times.  She loves it.  I sing "How ba-a-a-d can I be?" to myself subconsciously.  No big deal.

6.  They will save their very worst behavior for the public's viewing.

The two-year-old will be having a fantastic day, behavior-wise, so you'll think that it's a good time to run into Target.  This is two-year-old trickery at its finest.  Mid-store, the child will suddenly flail about in the cart, throwing his popcorn, screaming at the top of his lungs, and possibly hitting you.  He will do this until you are a sufficient shade of red and at least ten people have noticed his behavior before he will chill the F out again.

7.  You can't predict the two-year-old's mood.

They are as moody as, if not moodier than, teenagers.  See # 6.

8.  The two-year-old attitude knows no bounds.

Your sweet child will "humph" at you, kick up the sass in an instant, and stare you down with her hands on hips.  Try not to lose your shit, and remember: you aren't going to win.

9.  She will become a kid overnight.

You will put your baby to bed one night, and the following morning, you will realize that she is most definitely not a baby anymore.  Also:

10.  She will tell you daily, hourly even, that she is "a big girl."

This is usually in response to your trying to assist her with anything: going potty, getting dressed, fixing dinner.

11.  Embrace that she is "a big girl."

Use it against her when she acts like a baby.  When she screams and cries because WHATEVER has happened, you can calmly remind her: "I thought you were a big girl?  Big girls don't behave this way, do they?"  But:

12.  Don't expect reverse psychology to work.

Like I said before, they are brilliant.  Whatever scheme you can come up with is no match for the two-year-old's brain.  She will call your bluff and you'll be left standing there, like "Oh God, now what?"

13.  Every day is Independence Day.

We all hope that our children will grow to become independent adults, capable of handling whatever life sends their way.  Well, my friends, the independence starts early.  It is great and horrible at the same time.  She will insist that you do not help her with her shoes, only to scream at you a moment later that she can't put on her shoes.  Your child will insist upon dressing himself.  Let him.  He'll choose pajama bottoms, a Sesame Street t-shirt, flip flops, and his superhero cape.  No one really cares what the kid is wearing.  Anyone who DOES care, well, whatever.  It's not worth the fight.

14.  The two-year-old will take on her own responsibilities.

She wants to put away her laundry?  Let her.  She wants to load the dishwasher?  Let her.  She wants to feed the dogs?  Let her.  She won't do it perfectly, of course, but it is far more important to her pride and to her development that you let her do it herself.

15.  The two-year-old needs to hear how awesome he is.

ALL THE TIME.  Major self-esteem development is happening right now.  Your child is more likely to take pride in himself and in his actions if he hears you tell him how well he's doing.  My daughter loves being told "You are such a good helper!  You are so smart!  You are amazing!"  She lights up like fireworks when I express how proud of her I am.

16.  Hunger strikes will happen.

Try not to freak out if the child insists that he only wants four grapes and a cube of cheese.  All day.  More than likely, he'll plow through your fridge the following day.

17.  Naps may not happen.

Your child, who previously took a two-hour nap every single day without fail, may suddenly decide she doesn't need a nap today.  It will occur on the day when you have the most to accomplish in that two-hour window.  Don't fight it.  See # 2.

18.  The two-year-old is hilarious.

My daughter is beyond silly, when she's not pitching a fit.  Her sense of humor is off-beat and cracks me up.

19.  The two-year-old will make you feel like the best and worst parent ever in the history of time.

You are The Meanest Mommy In The World (actually you aren't, because I AM).  You feel like this small person is going to send you straight to the madhouse (actually, you already live in the madhouse).  You will question every single decision you make, every word you say, every action you take.  Don't sweat it.  Really, don't.  At the end of the day, your little person loves you to death, thinks you are amazing, and is in awe of you.  There is nothing better in the world than having little arms wrapped around your neck while a little voice says "Mommy, I love you."

20.  My two-year-old is not like your two-year-old.

Just as with infants, you really can't compare one child with another.  You can, however, commiserate with other parents.  More than likely, they are all too familiar with the tantrums, the fits, the weird outfits, the hunger strikes.  Don't be afraid to vent to other moms and dads just how f'ing frustrated you are with the two-year-old's attitude.  You'll feel much better and, trust me, you are not alone.