Shifting Sand

My birthday is next week. I turn 34. I don’t feel old, and certainly in the scheme of things, 34 isn’t *that* old, but let’s be frank – I remember when MY parents turned 34. I remember having a party for my mom when she was 35 and there were black balloons and “Over The Hill” signs. This is where I apologize and say, “Mom, I’m sorry. As a 9 year old I had no idea what it meant to be 35 and how that could possibly affect your psyche regarding how old that must have made you feel that particular day/year.” And, I’m thankful that most likely the earliest my kids will really remember *my* birthday is when I turn 40. Heh. That should be fun.

So anyway, I turn 34. I’m excited. I love birthdays. I enjoy my own. I love shopping for gifts for other people and I love birthday cake. This year seems to be The Year of Birthdays – for Adam’s birthday we went to Colorado Springs and for my birthday we’re going to Durango. I’m super excited that ON my birthday I’ll be going to one of the top places in the United States that has been on my Bucket List – Great Sand Dunes National Park. SO EXCITED.

Typically, though, a birthday doesn’t mean much other than that it’s another milestone; another year. I tend to leave it at that, but this year, I feel change a-brewing. I feel that after the birth of Anna, and finally starting to deal with an anxiety issue that it has turned out has been a problem for much of my life, that my life is making a turn for the better.

Is it okay to think that way? To see a birthday as a milestone that indicates change and not just another year added to life? Because I’m going to think about it that way.

This “new year” for me started with a doctor suggesting I needed to see a therapist about my anxiety so that I could function upon returning to work from maternity leave. It started with that same doctor suggesting that I might want to consider anti-anxiety medication to “take the edge off” so that I could access those tools I talked about in a previous post – so that I could access my prayer life and my faith life, so that I could access the relaxation techniques that I know, so that I could access the ability to start figuring out who I am when I’m not anxious. Because you know what? I don’t think I’ve ever known. During the first session with my therapist Kate, she asked me how long I had felt like this, and do you know, I couldn’t remember NOT feeling like this.

What does anxiety feel like to me? I likened it to a sparkler inside my chest. This constant buzzing in my chest. Always sparking, always going, kind of like the Olympic flame. It never went out.

And I knew HOW to quench it, but I was struggling with getting around it to access the tools to do so. And so I agreed to go on anti-anxiety medication. We started with Zoloft, but after three weeks it seemed to have no affect on me. We switched to Celexa, otherwise known as Citalopram. For the first two weeks, I didn’t feel any different. I continued therapy and started work and then honestly, it was like a switch – suddenly I woke up one day about a week and a half ago without that sparkler in my chest. Suddenly I could think and I could pray and I could get excited about life again, but not be overwhelmed by it. It was a Godsend, really.

But, it can’t be that easy. I was leery of the sudden change in my demeanor, in my ability to *deal*. I mean, it was my first week back to work – I should be overwhelmed, right? Anna was newly in daycare and not taking a bottle; I should be freaking out. I *tried* - yes, masochistically – to MAKE that feeling come back, and I couldn’t. It wouldn’t. It didn’t.

But I don’t simply liken this change to the drugs. I also really appreciate my therapist. She opened my eyes to a number of things I’ve never allowed myself to think on let alone think through, and it started a change in me. Find joy in each day, even if you have to try. Do something you love every day, even if you have to force yourself to do it. Start trying to live life instead of just doing it. Try. And talk. Talk to your husband about what you’re going through. Talk to your family. Talk to your friends. Make yourself important

again in your own life and in others’ lives. Truly live and don’t just exist. There has been so much… eye-opening… brain-opening… in the last few weeks. Good talks with my husband. Good talks with my friends. Opening myself to trust. Opening myself to acceptance of others’ failures – and my own – and being okay with that. Lessening the burden of expectation on myself and on others.

I said to someone very close to me – someone like a sister – this week, “the drugs help me be way less of a [insert a “b” here]itch.” But it’s not just the drugs. It’s everything combined. It’s the therapy, it’s the talks, it’s digging inside myself to figure out what’s in there. It’s truly awesome. I feel a lot freer, a lot nicer, and lot happier – not happy, more content with my life. I’m excited about the future… about planning forward, and figuring out how to make today the best for today and also make today the best for tomorrow all at the same time… it’s an incredible feeling.

I will see Kate the Therapist at least one more time, and I’ll stay on the Celexa for six months. I have lots to “work on” yet and will go back to Kate if/when I need to. I’ll keep building my tool kit up so that when I do go off the Celexa, I don’t sink back into who I’ve been. There’s so much to do with myself yet, but I’m happy with the start. There is hope, there is hope.

So, another year? A new year. Sand Dunes, here I come!
erin

Swaddle Me No More

This post is a testament to our love of swaddling our children.  We first learned to swaddle when Julia was six weeks old, who suddenly was no longer the “sleepy baby” who would sleep anywhere and in any position, and her hands and arms became her worst enemies.  One trip through “Happiest Baby on the Block”, and we were swaddling fools. 

And we didn’t need those fancy swaddling contraptions – oh, no.  We swaddled Julia in receiving blankets until she was too big and then switched over to 48” x 48” flannel swaddling blankets that a friend had sent us that I swore we would never use – “MORE blankets???”  Those blankets became our best friends.  We learned how to swaddle in them and swaddle well. 

Julia was swaddled until she finally broke free at 7 months.

We started swaddling Raven from the get go.  She was by far our happiest child of the two older girls and best sleeper.  Another baby swaddled until 7 months.  Again, with a 48” x 48” flannel swaddling blanket.

Then along came Anna.  Anna took to the swaddle right in the hospital.  She accepted it and even today at almost three months old (tomorrow), she immediately calms down upon being swaddled if she’s upset or otherwise.

However, Anna is strong.

Anna is so strong and wiggly; so much so, in fact, that she can break out of Adam’s swaddle without breaking a sweat.  The Swaddling King’s Swaddle.  The Man Who Swaddled Our 18-Month-Old (this worked during a raucus fit of Julia’s and was the only way to calm her down).  Anna, with a grin and a giggle, breaks out of that thing like nothing.  And, after three straight nights of Anna focusing her energy on breaking out of her swaddles multiple times a night and then being mad that she is cock-eyed in her bassinet from all of the moving around, I’ve finally accepted that I need to transition Anna out of the swaddle.

Anna has been able to sleep with her arms out of her swaddle for a few weeks, as long as I swaddle her to start.  However, she’s no longer content with just her arms being out – she wants her whole body out.  So tonight I laid her down asleep without the swaddle, only to have her pop back away 5 minutes later.  Fifteen minutes later, she was out again, and again I laid her down.  Five minutes later… awake.

Well, Mama ain’t havin’ none of that.  Into the swaddle she goes.  We’ll see how long she lasts tonight.  I guess we will have the contention of the swaddle versus not until Girlfriend learns to sleep completely without it… until then, I’ll keep trying to let her fall asleep without it, she’ll keep breaking out after I succumb to my Best Baby Friend, and I will experience a lot of lack-of-sleep nights in my near future.  (Good thing she’s so cute when she wakes up!)

But, I’ve accepted that this one is different… this one will have her way much, much sooner.  My goodness, how fast they grow!

erin

More Star Spangled Lyrics

Julia: "dug fruit through the night"

The Brewer

I have to post about this…

… just so I don’t forget.

Anna is in her second week of daycare, and they have air conditioning and she spends much of the day indoors.  So, while she’s been wearing summer outfits all summer long, the other day Itzel (one of her teachers) thought she was cold so put her in a long sleeved pant outfit.  Adam brought her home in it, and I left it on her as I put her to bed, as she typically just wears whatever she’s wearing during the day to bed, at long as it’s a comfy outfit.

During the middle of the night I woke with Anna to change her and nurse her, and I went to remove the outfit to change her diaper.  It was like peeling off a sausage casing!  I have no idea how Itzel got this outfit ON Anna, because it was really hard to take it off.  I was literally peeling it off of her!  And, it wasn’t hard to figure out why – the outfit was a newborn outfit.  HA!  HA HA HA HA HA!  Anna has been wearing six month clothes for what… three weeks now?  So imagine a newborn outfit on her.

Sausage casing.

Needless to say, I put her in a different outfit to put her back to bed.

erin

New Word

snagglewhack, verb

Also: snaggledwhacked, snagglewhacking, snagglewhacker (noun)

Definition of SNAGGLEWHACK: (1) To purposefully lessen the amount of work, level of difficultly, or amount of time expected for a home improvement project when explaining said project during a request for help from a friend; (2) To obtain assistance from a friend to help with a home improvement project through deceitful explanation of project

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When it was determined during The Rock Project that I needed to stop assisting, we determined that Adam would need to find someone to help.  After talking to our friend Dan and learning that Dan was more than willing to help, I asked Adam if he told Dan that it was less work than what it was really going to be.  Exactly how the word came about is lost to me, but basically, I said something along the lines of, “Well, I just don’t want Dan to get…” and couldn’t finish the sentence.  I was looking for “swindled”.  Adam promptly spit out, “Snagglewhacked?”  And, a new word was born.  We both laughed and laughed and laughed.  Three weeks and some change later, all one of us has to do is say the word “snagglewhacked” and we both start laughing.  It took us approximately two weeks to come up with the word “swindled”. 

erin

Rocks

A few weeks ago or so, Adam had an idea that he would clean up underneath the pine tree in the front yard.  Despite the rocks and early summer weed pulling, there were a load of weeds under the tree again and he wanted to vanquish them.  His thought was to take the rocks out, lay down new landscaping carpet, and put the rocks back on.  Three hours, maybe four hours tops.

It only took us about an hour to shovel out all of the rocks.  But that is when the trouble hit.  Years of pine needles, weed, and leaf decay had turned into dirt in the rocks, so even though we found that there was already landscaping carpet under the rocks, it didn’t help because the weeds were growing IN the rock bed.  So, now we simply had a large pile of rocks and dirt.  Scooping them back into the bed was going to be counterproductive without cleaning the rocks.

This is where a three to four hour project quickly turned into a nine and a half hour project.

We first tried spraying down the pile, but quickly realized that wasn’t working.  That is when we turned to scooping rocks into the kiddie pool and washing them off and then putting them into the bed under the tree.  So.

Time. Consuming.

Very. Dirty.

I’ll confess that while I didn’t mind helping, trying to watch a baby and two big kids and trying to help and knowing I needed to work a few hours that afternoon was becoming overwhelming pretty quickly (see my anxiety post from near the same time frame), so I made lunch for the family (homemade burgers and corn and beans – yum!) and then I cashed in on the project.  Adam was able to get a hold of our friend Dan with whom we’re in church small group, and Dan was willing to come over and help, even after described the project.  (more on that to come)

Dan is also an engineer and had a few other ideas to try including a dry cleaning technique of dropping rocks over an old fridge rack and shaking, and he was such a great big help to Adam.

I think the best tools of the day ended up being that fridge rack and an old gym locker basket.

And the colander. 

Aren’t our rocks pretty?

Right.  Next time?  We’re buying new rocks.

erin

Breckenridge

Two and a half weeks ago, we went to Breckenridge.  I posted pictures from our phones, but not pictures from our camera.  Adam reminded me… I had one of those moments where I remembered going through them, but didn’t remember posting them… and sure enough, I checked tonight and I didn’t post!

I love this picture of Adam.  My favorite pictures of him are when I catch him slightly unaware of the lens until right before I snap the picture.  Here we’re at Motherloaded.

I loved the theme of the restaurant… mothers.

Before dinner, and before it started to rain, Adam snapped some pictures of the big girls while I nursed Anna in the van.

So glad we were able to spend some time together as family that night.  We are so fortunate for all that we have and to be able to live in such a beautiful state and take it all in on a whim… so very fortunate.

Anna is 12 weeks old!

I have a load of blog posts I want to write, but tonight you’ll have to suffice with Anna’s weekly picture post.  Hopefully I’ll find the energy to write more this week!

Of course, the day that Buscha asked how Anna was doing with the bottle and I reported “not so well” was finally the first day that Anna did well with a bottle at daycare.  I bought a new bottle – The Comotomo Natural Feel Baby Bottle – after reading reviews and to try and find a bottle that better resembled a breast, as this baby LOVES her breastfeeding and was only drinking about 6 oz a day at daycare.  I sent this bottle today and finally today she sucked down 9 oz, which is more in line with what I would expect.  So yay!

Anna is doing well so far at daycare – she’s a darling and a good baby and hopefully that will continue… makes mama going back to work much easier.  Of course, there’s good and bad in everything, it seems, as daycare is going well, but mama has very little time in the evenings with Anna before she heads off to slumberland… last night I got home at 5:35 pm, fed Anna, and she was out for the night at 6 pm.  Ah, well.  It’s better than having a screaming baby all day at school.  Sacrifices.

Running the seats of Red Rocks

69 rows and about 135 seats in each row (just under 10,000 seats) at Red Rocks in Morrison CO.
Each day there are people who exercise here, including yoga and push-ups and other activities. But most people do one of two things 1) run from the bottom to the top on the seats or 2) running back and forth until you ran past all 9500 or so seats. I just did the later of the two but I walked it instead. Apparently it is 2.25 miles worth and I did it in about 45 minutes. Also the number of steps from the parking lot to the top is like 390 or almost twice that of climbing the M in platteville. Now I just to see an actual concert here and I can cross another thing off my bucket list.
Crazy Horse played last night and will play again tonight and you can see the whole calendar HERE.

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Prost!
Adam