learning from our littles

Yesterday morning was a parenting fail.  A mom's group in town was having me a very sweet baby "sprinkle," which meant I needed to get myself and my two 23-month-olds dressed and out the door at a specific time.  When we go to the park or to get muffins or anywhere for fun, the getting ready ordeal typically runs pretty smoothly.  When we actually need to be somewhere, though, chaos tends to ensue.

With about 20 minutes left before we needed to be in the car driving, I started getting the twins dressed.  Barnes, in typical Barnes fashion, absolutely refused to remove his dinosaur onesie, which he had slept in.  I got an arm out, he screamed like I had actually cut his arm off.  When I finally removed the entire onesie, the screams coming from our kitchen must have scared the neighbors.  I literally used my leg to hold him down and wrestle him into his clothes.  I try my very best to subscribe to peaceful parenting.  No yelling, lots of explanations.  Yesterday morning was not peaceful.  Trust me when I say that mom v. onesie got ugly.  Barnes rode to the sprinkle with his john john on and his onesie draped around his neck...he was not leaving that thing at home.

At the sprinkle, they of course behaved like angels.  Barnes was especially good, playing with other kids and showing some independence.  On the way home, having been told by multiple moms how sweet the twins are, I found some perspective.  Barnes is 23 months old...not even a full two year old.  He loves his pajamas.  Taking them off is sometimes traumatic for him.  Is that so bad?  Should I really expect anything different from my sweet little boy?

The point of this story is not that I'm a terrible mom (though I definitely have my moments).  The point is that, within seconds, Barnes was over the whole thing.  Even as I strapped him into his carseat with his dino onesie draped on his neck, he whispered "wuv u."  No grudges.  No resentment.  No silly disagreement hours later about something completely unrelated because he was still mad about his onesie.  Just love.  And forgiveness.  Without condition.  There's definitely a reason Jesus encouraged us to come to him like little children.

apples to apples

So here's the final comparison.  33 weeks is the last time we took a "belly shot" of the twins.  Hopefully we'll have many more of baby boy!

Baby boy is on top, and the twin shot is on the bottom.  Not sure that there is too much of a difference here...

23 months

It's subtle, but it's happening.  My sweet twins are growing up.  I feel like I am literally watching them change...watching them learn and grow and explore.  Watching them develop personalities of their own, both similar and contradictory.  As much as I hate to admit it, barnes & frances are transitioning out of the baby stage.  

When a human baby is born, it is helpless.  A baby can do nothing for himself and can do little to express his needs.  As a parent, it's frightening to think of how utterly another living creature depends on you, but it's also quite beautiful.  Now, as the parent of toddlers, it's alarming to realize all the things for which my babies don't need me.  Sure, they are still extremely dependent, but they are also emerging into a new stage of independence.  They can entertain themselves.  They can feed themselves, once I provide food (although they also like to open the pantry and help themselves at times).  They can take their clothes off.  They can make up games.  They can tell me what they need and when they need it.  

I want to foster this development.  It's healthy, after all, for them to need me just a little less.  But I also want to hold on to my babies.  I want to make sure I still have years of cuddles and silly kisses and fixing boo-boos ahead.  Oh, the never ending balance of being a parent.  

Here are some "big kid" moments captured on my phone.  It seems that everything these days has to be captured on my phone, if at all.

milkshake time with mom

snacks at the farmer's market.  we both have to get our own order of fries now.

getting a little too brave at the beach

loving dressing up in mom & dad's clothes

cartoon time in mom & dad's bed.  this sassy face is likely the result of "wiping off" one of mom's kisses, a game this little girl made up all on her own.


And we've figured out how to manipulate nap time to end up in mom's arms.  I guess they still need mom sometimes.

save the date

Let the countdown begin!  We will officially be meeting our newest baby boy on Monday, September 16th; just 48 days from now!  While I am well aware of the fact that babies don't tend to listen to our schedules (or at least Shafer babies don't), I am also hopeful that this little guy will wait until the appointed hour to make his appearance.  Going into labor with two 2-year-olds at home and the nearest grandparent 7 hours away does not sound like a great idea. 

Many people have asked how this pregnancy has felt different from the twins, so I've been thinking about it lately, and here's what I've come up with:

• When I feel the baby move, I know for sure which baby it is this time.  I kind of love that.
• I am MUCH less swollen.  You can still see bones in my feet!
• My belly is probably smaller, though it still feels quite large.
• When pregnant with the twins, I spent most of my day on the couch or otherwise resting.  This time, I spend my days taxiing around toddlers, playing trains and babies, coloring, wrestling in the floor.  So I'm pretty exhausted by the end of the day this time, but I'm not sure that can be blamed on the baby.
• I haven't been to the doctor/hospital a single time for an unplanned appointment!
• During our twin pregnancy, I read about a thousand books to "prepare" for mommyhood.  This time I try to remember to read the app on my phone every few days.  

We are so grateful for this healthy pregnancy and the baby who will be joining our family soon.  Praying for 7 more healthy weeks inside!

a fabulous, ordinary anniversary

Sunday was mine and Andrew's seventh anniversary.  For seven years, we've been trying our best to live out the vows we made to each other.  Some seem pretty easy... fidelity, check.  Love, check.  Others, like honor, can be trickier though.  Do I really honor Andrew each day--even on the days when it feels like both babies and both dogs have been screaming all day?  Do I cherish him appropriately, cherish the way he takes care of our family, even on the days when I feel like I have nothing to wear and my hair is showing too much gray and I haven't had the chance to wash said gray hair in three days?

Like most couples, we usually try to do something special on our anniversary.  This year, though, we couldn't get a babysitter on July 15th, so we went on a date the night before.  Our actual anniversary was thus filled with the normal routine of a young family.  Two doctors appointments (one for me and one for a sick kid); a rendezvous at the park to switch off on kid duty; singing, reading, playing, and doing whatever else is necessary to entertain 22 month olds; walking the dogs; tired, pregnant mommy taking a nap when dad got home from work.  Sure, Andrew cooked a lovely dinner and we watched our wedding video, but mostly it was business as usual.  And maybe that's appropriate sometimes.

I fully support lavish celebrations, but perhaps it's good to occasionally spend a day remembering and renewing your vows in the midst of life's monotony.  After all, it's never difficult to love and cherish one another when you're sipping chianti in Tuscany or basking in Mexico's glorious sun.  But it's the day to day living...the remembering to say thank you when your spouse is especially kind...the trying to get ready a few minutes earlier so that your coffee-addicted husband will have time to stop at starbucks...that really matter.  It's the intentional affection we give in the middle of our routine that makes a marriage work.

So Happy Anniversary, Andrew.  Thanks for making Monday such a fabulous, ordinary day.  I love you.  

a new decade

Apparently my thirties are trying to set low expectations.  I officially turned 30 on Sunday, and while my twenties went out with a fabulous family trip to Chicago, my thirties haven't started with quite the same flair.  I started feeling sick on the evening of my birthday.  Then, on Monday, chaos ensued.  B&F both had a high fever, and I got a nice bath of vomit from Barnes before bed.  We're now 4 days into these fevers, and Frances was diagnosed with croup this afternoon.  I didn't even know croup existed--I thought it was just something that old people said--but apparently it is a real, diagnosable condition.  Fun.

The bad news is that it's been a long week.  The good news is my thirties have to get better from here.

baby update- 28 weeks

Three days in a row is a bit much on the blogging front, but y'all...baby boy is 28 weeks old!  Only 11 more weeks until he makes his entrance into this world!

He looks perfect and is actually measuring 1-2 weeks ahead, which makes mom feel happy.  Like his brother, his head appears to be exceptionally large (makes the c-section sound even better).  He is quite the mover, especially any time I am trying to sleep.  His face is already taking on an adorable shape, as you can see below.  We cannot wait to meet this sweet little boy!