The truth about two

Alternative post title: I like this.

A few nights ago, as Papa and I sat in Lane's room preparing him for bed, we read from a new book he received as a Christmas present. We all laughed hysterically as Papa tickled Lane and turned the pages in The Tickle Monster.

Lane thought getting tickled was hilarious, and we thought he was pretty funny as his chubby cheeks chuckled with the story.

And then, he made us laugh even harder.

Pointing at the book, he told us, "I like this."

That's kind of become our new motto around here.

I like this.

We've officially got one week under our belt as the parents of two little boys.



Lane seems to be adjusting well. Asking to hold Bro Bro a few times a day. Putting Evan's pacifier in his mouth when (and when not) needed. Showing concern when Evan cries.

He's getting a lot of papa time, which makes this mama a little jealous, but seems to be good for our big boy. He's enjoyed a barbecue lunch at Papa's favorite BBQ place, gone swimming at the gym and hung out at work - all while I've been at home loving on Evan.

When he's not paying attention to the baby, he's proving to us just how much he's grown. It is as if we left him a baby in his crib last Thursday night and came home to a big boy Saturday afternoon.

His vocabulary and memory increases daily - and he continues to amaze us with what he knows. He can now recognize each letter of the alphabet and is well on his way to being able to sing the entire ABC song. Numbers are second on his list - recognizing each number from zero to ten - and counting everything.

He doesn't appear to mind all the time we've been spending in our pj's and lounging around the house. He's doing a good job at keeping himself busy with all of the new cars, blocks, crayons and books he was gifted last week.

And, I'm not going to lie - he's had quite a few cookies and gummy bears.

But what the heck, it is not every day that you become a big brother.

As for this little guy, he's a joy.

With a much more relaxed set of parents than his big brother had, he's bound to be a little calmer and much more laid back.

He spends most of his days - and nights - with his eyes closed. When he's not sleeping or eating, he's gifting us with little bouts of awake time - mastering that same little Hoo face that earned his older brother his nickname.

We can't get over how much he looks like Lane, and we are trying our best not to compare the two of them. But it is so hard when you've got a mini of a mini living under the roof.

He likes to snuggle but is perfectly content to spend time in his bouncy seat while I tend to his older brother. He rarely cries - only to let us know when he needs a clean diaper or a little something to eat.

We're pretty smitten with him and happy he's here.


As for me, I'm feeling good about this whole mama of two gig I've got going on now. Yesterday, I packed up both boys for the first time and headed out for lunch with Papa. Sure, it took me all morning to feed and dress both of them, but I got it done. That's all that matters.

Going through a labor and delivery drug free seems to have done my body well - as my recovery is moving much faster than last time. I'm anxious to get back to our normal routine - although I know normal and newborn are rarely spoken in the same sentence and life as we knew it will be different now that we've got two boys.

So, I'm taking it one minute at a time. Snuggling each of my boys when they need it. Giving out lots of kisses. Changing an abundance of dirty diapers. Feeling pretty blessed.

I'm trying to sneak at least an hour nap in each afternoon, setting a goal of one load of laundry each day and getting a lot of help from Papa when it comes to cooking and cleaning.

Overall, I have to say, "I like this."

Watcha' doing Hoo

"Watchin' birds, Mama."

He's so cool.

Evan's birth story

This is the story of the birth of my second child - as told to both of my children.

Part II - Delivery, as told to Evan.

I walked from your brother's room in to mine and told your Papa I thought we should call my parents. Contractions were now five minutes apart.

Honestly, I was kind of scared. I called your Pops and prepared him for what might come. He placed his bags in his car and told me to call if I felt I needed him.

Back upstairs, I climbed in to bed to try to rest. For 45 minutes, the contractions came in five minute intervals. The pain a little more than before. We were getting close.

Then, my water broke.

Everything that followed happened so fast. My body began to shake. My teeth couldn't stop chattering. I called the midwife. Papa called your Pops.

We gathered our belongings. We dressed. Papa began taking our things to the car.

Still, I continued to shake. The contractions now came on so fast I couldn't record the time on paper. The pain intensified.

I asked Papa to call your Mamaw and Papaw. I knew you couldn't wait for your Pops to make the hour long trip.

While we waited for your grandparents, I walked. I clung to door frames. I grasped your Papa's body against mine. All to ease the pain of each contraction.

I felt you low in my body and knew your time growing inside of me was close to an end.

I expressed my concerns to your Papa.

He expressed his excitement. Told me how proud he was of me for laboring at home.

You've done all the work, Mama. The hard part is over.

We got in the car and began to make our way to the hospital. Out of habit from the day, I looked at the clock.

10:40.

We drove quickly. In silence.

I grasped the handle above my seat. I held on tight to the sunroof. I rolled the window up and down. Each contraction more painful than the one before. Each contraction closer together than the one before.

We arrived at the hospital. Papa put the car in park in front of the labor and delivery doors and helped me inside.

I saw my mother's face. I felt comfort. And then pain.

You were coming. Coming now I told the receptionist. I needed a room. Quickly.

The nurses walked me in the room, and I immediately asked for pain relief. There would not be time.

I undressed and climbed in to bed. I answered a series of questions. I moaned in pain.

I felt you.

I ignored the nurses insistence that I was only dilated seven centimeters and didn't need to push yet.

My mom informed them that I moved quickly from seven to ten with my first delivery.

I pushed. You began to make your way in to the world. The nurses calmly prepared the room for an emergency delivery. My doctor was called. He would not make it in time. A doctor was grabbed from the hallway.

With my mom and your papa by my side I felt the pain of a contraction and pushed again. I looked to my mom and saw tears in her eyes. I heard your papa tell me to push again.

I didn't think I could do it. The pain was too much. I asked for help.

Help wasn't needed. You were here. Two more pushes and you were born.

The time was 11:48.

Seventeen minutes after arriving at the hospital, you were born.

The doctor placed you in my arms, and I felt as if I had known you my entire life. Your face looked so familiar.

We all said it - me, your grandmother and your papa.

You looked just like your older brother.

Later that night, after I'd had time to process the excitement of your birth, I held you in my arms and nursed you.

I kissed you in the spot where your nose meets your eyes and whispered to you, "You and your brother are the best things that have ever happened to this mama. You know that. The best things."

Evan's birth story

This is the story of the birth of my second child - as told to both of my children.

Part I - Labor, as told to Lane.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

I woke up Monday feeling different than I had the night before. I could tell by the shape of your brother's bump and the puffiness all over my body that labor was on its way.

We spent the day playing with your friends, laughing and enjoying each others company. The girls all remarked at how much my physical features had changed. How I "finally looked pregnant." They too could tell change was approaching.

On Tuesday, I made plans to prepare myself for life with two boys. Not wanting to keep you cramped up in the house, you went out to play with your grandparents. When you did not return at the time I expected, I became emotional. All of a sudden, I felt as if I needed to spend as much time with you as possible.

Tuesday evening, the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been experiencing transformed in to contractions. I spent the evening getting my hair cut by a friend and feeling the temperature of my body rise as contractions came and went every 20 minutes or so.

Wednesday, I went to see the midwife. I explained I felt that labor was near. She ignored my insight of my own body and insisted I had two more weeks. I came home and labored.

I woke James early in the morning on Thursday, December 23. After walking the hallway of the house and relaxing, the contractions continued. He snuggled me close and eased me back to sleep.

When all of us woke later that day, I knew it was time. I prepared myself. I decided I needed to spend the day with you. To play with you. To laugh with you. To snuggle you. To enjoy you as my baby for one more day.

I wanted to document our day. To write it down and photograph each step. We played all your favorite games: flash cards, cars, Lincoln Logs.

Eventually, the contractions grew closer together, and I began to write down the time each one came and went. We spent the morning playing in 15 minute intervals.

We stayed in our pajamas until lunch time. Eventually, the pain from each contraction got stronger. We went upstairs and took a hot shower. Together, you and I. I let the water warm my back as you sang me songs and gave me kisses. You stayed in the shower much longer than usual - as if you knew I needed you there with me.

We laughed at all of your funniness, and I cried for the first time that day. I knew life was about to change. And, as excited as I was to meet your brother, and for him to join our family, I felt some guilt about letting go of the last two years: two years of you.


By the time you were ready for a nap, Papa came home and the contractions were closer to ten minutes apart. We dressed in comfortable clothes and I coaxed you in to some cuddling by sharing some ice cream with you. We sat on the couch together, eating ice cream from the container and breathing through each one of my contractions.

When you woke, we discussed dinner. Papa picked up some Chinese food - your favorite, fried rice, and the three of us shared a meal. We discussed what to do next. Should my parents make the ride out to us? Should we continue on as normal? Should we head to the hospital?

We decided to stay home as long as possible. To enjoy our nightly routine.

We bathed you. Played in our bedroom. Read you your night time books. When it was time for you to go to sleep, Papa left us together in your room.

I gathered you close to my body. I whispered in your ear the story of the night you were born. How the moment you were placed in my arms, I felt as if I'd known you my entire life. As if I'd seen your face before.

I told you how much I love you. How special you are to me because you are the boy who made me a mama.

Then I explained that I might not be at home in the morning when you would wake. I told you not to be scared. I explained that your brother might be on his way. I asked if you would be brave - as we've only spent one night away from each other before this day. You told me yes.

I placed my lips on the spot where your nose meets your eyes and kissed you there as I have every day since you were born. I wished you peaceful slumbers.

Then, for the very last time, I whispered in your ear, "You are the best thing that has ever happened to this mama. You know that. The very best thing."

I walked out of your room with tears in my eyes.

My father holding his grandson Evan Abram Rader

We knew we would know your name when we met you.

Like your brother, we didn't rush our decision. As we patiently waited for the two of you to join our family, we patiently waited for each of you to tell us your names.

Our decision came shortly after your birth.

We named you Evan.

A name of your very own. A name fitting of the man we believe you will become. A name meaning "Rock." Our hopes are that you will be a strong man. A hard working man. A man who is not scared to stand on his own.

Your middle name comes from Abraham. Your great grandfather. My father's father. A man who left this world shortly after my first year. However, I always felt as if I knew him. His presence always in my family and his name spoken often.

He was a hard worker. A man who served his country during war. A faithful and devoted husband. A good father. May you possess many of his qualities.

Your last name comes from your father. And his father. And the many men before him. Carry it with pride, share it with your brother and pass it on to your sons.

Complete

Evan Abram Rader
December 23, 2010
11: 48 pm
Seven pounds, Three Ounces
Twenty and a half inches long
Perfection

We are complete.

Little gingerbread houses for Hoo and me

Knowing it might be a few weeks until we gather with our besties again, we invited the gang over to make some faux gingerbread houses.

You know, the kind I put together using hot glue and Publix brand graham crackers.

Then we slathered them with some Duncan Hines icing and let the kiddos go at it.



Resulting in a cute little village where gummy bears call graham cracker houses home and Cookie Monster is always outside your front door to greet you when you arrive.

This might have been one of the best bestie days in a long time - for the kiddos at least.
Because we've got a few babes who enjoy eating candy.

Candy filled kids equals wild kids, which was nice for getting a cute group shot.

But not so nice when these two decided to be a little bit naughty.








John Oscar's house, which has very little candy on the outside and a whole lot stored inside. I guess he's saving up for a big storm.

Hello two

Good bye booster seat.

A deer, mama

If I could have bottled up this boy's excitement last night, I would have. Then, I would have sent it to all you. That way, you could hear how happy he was when he spotted one of his favorite animals, strike that, favorite things, in the whole world in his own yard.

As I was preparing dinner, the short hair began whining. I figured she spotted the chipmunk that lives in our front yard. A few seconds later, Lane informed me, "A deer, mama."

"A deer," I asked him. "No baby, that's just the neighbor's dog." Wrong.

He was right. There in our side yard was a big deer watching Lane and Elly Mae as they watched him.

"A deer, mama," he kept telling me.

"You are right, babe. That is a deer," I told him.

That's when the excitement began. We watched that deer for a few minutes as he hung out in our yard. Lane giggled with excitement. The short hair whined with desire to get outside and get that deer.

We followed him to the front yard, where we spotted two more deer.


"Three deer, mama," Lane informed me.

We watched as they crossed our yard into the driveway until we couldn't find a window in our house that gave us a view of our friends any more.

"Let's go tell papa what we saw Lane," I told him, as to keep him from crying now that the deer were out of sight.

Up the stairs he went as fast as his little body would take him.

"Deer papa," he yelled. "I saw deer, papa. Three deer."

And we've been talking about those deer all day long.

Slowly

I guess I didn't do much posting last week.

It's hard to explain how I'm feeling right now.

My best attempt is to say that time is moving very quickly while I spend my days (quite literally) moving very slow.

One step at a time with my big boy by my side.

At 37 weeks, I'm running out of room for our newest babe and running low on energy.

I feel the need to get things accomplished. At the same time, my body reminds me to take it easy and rest. My heart tells me to spend as much one-on-one time with Lane as possible.

So, that's what I have done. I've learned to go to bed with dishes in the sink, cars on the floor and clean laundry in a basket waiting to be folded and put away.

Eventually, everything gets done.

For now, I've got just a few more weeks to enjoy life with just Lane.

Last week, we read books. Snuggled in bed. Played cars. Visited with friends. Talked a lot about what the future holds for our family.

And at times, took baby steps in preparation for our newest family member.

This time, I know that all a baby needs upon his arrival home is a few warm pieces of clothing, a small spot to sleep, plenty of time to nurse and an abundance of love.

I know we can provide all of that for him.

The rest will come when the time is right.

Even his name.

Hoo Turns Two

He is worthy of a celebration every day.
On Saturday, it was all about him.
So, we celebrated with a small, owl themed party featuring all of his favorite things.

We had cupcakes with cute little owls for each of the kiddos.

And all of his favorite snacks.
Suckers, Krispy treats, Gummies and Grapes.

And olive pizza for lunch.

His four favorite girls were there.
Lilly, Madelyn, Andrea and Lizzie Mae.
All of them came dressed in outfits adorned with owls - just for our Hoo Bird.

His four best buddies were there too.
Damian, John Oscar, Preston and Drew.

The rest of his family joined him to celebrate.
Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents and Family Friends.

We sang happy birthday and ate our cupcakes.

He hung out and played with his friends and family.

We let the kiddos pull the strings on an owl pinata and
they went nuts when some of Lane's favorite treats fell out.
Sesame Street stickers, Curious George and Snoopy snacks, and Smarties.

Each kiddo grabbed their little gift bag, which was decorated with a Hootie Owl Bird and came complete with more of Hoo's favorite treats, and filled it with the pinata goods.
A Krispy Treat, Bubbles, Matchbox Car and Suckers.

And we played the day away.

Lane with his gang.
Damian, who is behind the door; Andrea; John Oscar; Lilly; Lane; Lizzie Mae; Drew and Madelyn.

It was a special day with our special babe.
And we will do it all again next year.

Twomorrow

Dear Lane,

I've begged and pleaded and tried to figure out how to put an end to this whole thing. However, no matter what I do it appears as if you have other plans.

Plans that include turning two.

So, I'll do my best to help you celebrate tomorrow. We'll have a party. Invite your family and best friends.

We will celebrate all that you are and all that you've given us over these last two years. I'll probably cry. Not because I'm sad. More because I'm so happy to have you as my own.

If I'm being honest, I have to say that as much as I miss that little tiny baby I brought home two years ago, I love this big boy toddler so, so much.

I guess I could keep denying the fact that I can't freeze time, but, truthfully, I enjoy this whole growing up into your own unique self.

I love the little boy you've become.

Hearing you speak in sentences, "Squirrel eat acorn, Mama," you told me as you watched out this window.

Listening to you boss around your papa, "No, Papa. No, nap. Play cars, Papa." Your the only person I know who can tell your papa what to do - and he actually listens.

Teaching you how to count, "Two, Three, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten." Who needs One or Five. Certainly not you.

Recalling memories of times with friends. "I pick apples with Drew," you tell me at least once a week.

Seeing at two the type of man you will be 20 years from now.

How you methodically line up your cars - a game we play at least a dozen times a day - before racing each one of them across the playroom floor.

How routine is so very important to you.

Papa must give you a bubble tubbie. Books must be read before bed. White socks must be worn with pajamas - not the comfy slippers I purchased for you earlier this week.

"No, mama. No. No comky socks. White socks," you told me.

Watching you with your short hair. How you love her so much.

"Hi Mae Mae," you tell her each morning when you wake.

"I copy Mae Mae," you tell me as you chase her around the house mimicking her moves: from grring to sitting to shaking your papa's hand.

"Mae Mae play backyard," you insist every day. And she does. She follows you outside and plays along with you in the afternoon.

Because there's no where else you would rather be than outside playing: throwing a football, digging in the dirt, running the length of the yard or messing around in the fir trees.

You show us the moon each night. Point out birds in the sky. Know how to call squirrels and turkeys. Sit patiently and watch the deer graze in the field by Papa's office.

Before you were born, Papa and I decided we would promote a love of the outdoors in our child.

We didn't know it would come so naturally.

Tomorrow, we will leave one behind and say hello to two.

I guess I'll give you that.

After all, you've given us so much more than we could have ever wanted or asked for. You are the boy who turned James and Lana into Papa and Mama.

No matter how old you get and how much time goes by that will stay the same. We will always be your parents.

Our life will forever be better because of Lane.

Happy birthday Lane Thomas.

We love you.

Mama and Papa

Six O' Clock Snack

Yep, I let him eat green olives as a snack one night last week.
He asked for them.

Then, we fed him a smoothie for dinner.

Thankful

Really, I could continue with this for another month.
I have so much to be thankful for:

amazing friends
my cozy Cape Cod
food in the fridge
unbelievable parents
a big bed with warm sheets

the list goes on and on.

Today, on my last day to officially give thanks,
I am thankful for this blog
and all of you who read it.

I started thinking about it today - how glad I am that I started this silly blog.

It has been here to track those first few months of motherhood.
You know, when I was so in awe of Lane
and so very tired.
When I had no clue what I was doing
but knew I loved doing it.

I've shared so much with all of you.
Memories of my pregnancy with Lane.
Personal revelations.
Reflections on infertility.
Loss.
Gain.

It is great to have this online journal to look back on and see how both
Lane and I have grown.

Most of all, I'm happy that I have the simple memories recorded.
You know, moments like today when Lane and I rolled around on the kitchen floor after he came in from a rainy outside.

This boy makes me laugh.
I'm not sure if I will remember simple moments like these.
But, this blog makes that possible.

I'll always have the photos and the way I felt at that moment recorded.

I'm not sure if Lane will ever care about this blog.
If he'll ever look at it or read it.

I wonder if I'll come back to it long after I've stopped recording my thoughts.

However, today I'm thankful for this blog so I can record the simple memories,
like baking brownies together to take to preschool tomorrow morning.

So he can celebrate turning two with his teacher and classmates.
Two years of our life with Lane.

Two years of lovely moments.
Here are a few of my favorite:

Good morning my loves
Monday morning meeting
Light of my life
It still fits but he won't wear it now
My boy loves his dog
Some things never change
This still makes us laugh