little black journal

We had a joy-filled Thanksgiving, complete with a quiet morning at home, an afternoon walk in the perfect fall weather, and a belly-bursting evening  meal at Jack and La Verne’s.  My plate literally overflowed with blessings.  We have so much to be thankful for, in our home, our friendships, our family, and our sweet little babe.  Juliette somehow got wind of my previous blog rant and has been making amends the past couple of days, with smiles and long naps and a generally sunny disposition; she was a trooper as we made the meet-the-baby rounds at my office and Shane’s office on Tuesday and was great company when I lugged her to Costco and Trader Joe’s for pie fixin’s on Wednesday.  Today we laid on the floor together and chatted for over an hour, Juliette responding to my nonsense rambling with sweet oohs and ahhs and mmms until our eyelids began to grow heavy and we both fell asleep, her serene little face just inches from mine.  Best nap ever.  I’m so indescribably thankful for this girl, for the ways she’s taught me to give and love and hang tight through the tough stuff.  I’m thankful for Shane, who fills in the gaps when I’m short on patience or sleep, who is unabashedly silly for the sake of making Jules (and me) smile.  I’m thankful for this blessed up and down and up, up, up life we live.

Ten days ago, I was writing Juliette’s two-month entry in her baby book, gushing about how happy she was, how well she’d been sleeping, how she had rounded a corner with her car seat aversion.

And then Friday happened.  Major car seat meltdown.  There and back.

And then Saturday happened.  Hour-long inconsolable wail-fest while I was at the movies with some friends.  Poor Shane was wild-eyed and exhausted by the time I got home (you know it’s a bad scene when I walk in the door and he’s wearing his noise-canceling headphones while holding the baby).

And then Sunday morning happened.  Juliette decided at 3:15 a.m. that 7 hours of sleep was really enough and that she was ready to start her day.  Shane and I took turns rocking and bouncing and shushing her for two hours, while she just gazed up at us with her wide open eyes, as if we were engaged in the cruelest staring contest of all time.

I try to take these bumps in stride, knowing that she can’t cry forever, that she’ll eventually fall asleep, that our sweet, smiling girl is in there somewhere, but man, sometimes it’s tough to roll with the punches.  Life is so unpredictable these days.  I go to bed each night not knowing if I’ll need to wake up in two hours or six hours.  We have eaten many a cold meal, miscalculating bedtime and leaving our dinner to sit on the counter while we try to get the baby to sleep.  Every time we get in the car, I feel this little pulse of anxiety, wondering if we’re in for a pleasant family drive or a white-knuckled race to our destination.  I knew that parenting would require me to relinquish control of our quiet, self-indulgent lifestyle, but gaaaah!  This crazy-haired little girl is really going head-to-head with my inner control freak.  And guess who’s winning?

Parenthood has made me so much more aware of the passage of time.  Thirty seconds at a stoplight can feel like an eternity with a crying baby in the backseat, but then she calms down and time flies and before you know it, your little girl is two months old and weighing in at a hefty twelve and a half pounds…  It’s bittersweet to see Juliette growing and changing so quickly, but definitely more sweet than bitter.  The highlights:

Her highlights!  Her soft brown and blonde locks are getting longer and more out of control.  They often lay nice and flat in the front and stick straight up in the back – we’ve shared some good laughs over her morning bed head.  And I’ve logged some precious hours running my fingers through this hair while she nurses.

Bathtime!  Now that Shane is back at work and I don’t have an extra set of hands around in the morning, we’ve traded showers for evening baths.  Juliette loves the tub and often flashes some of her best smiles when I’m shampooing her hair.  And no more post-bathing meltdowns!  She’s mellowed out a bit in her old age.

She continues to eat like a champ and is packin’ on the pounds – I feel like I discover a new crease in her chubby little legs every time I change her.

She is rockin’ her tummy time these days, holding her head up like a pro and rolling over almost every day now – here she is, makin’ a break for it:

She’s got lots of nicknames – I thought we’d call her Jules most often, but we’ve come up with a number of other terms of endearment that get a lot more use:  Flock of Seagulls (that 80’s hair!); Bag of Books (because she’s heavy, and because this is what came out of Shane’s mouth when he drew a blank on the phrase “sack of potatoes”); Stinkpot (have you ever gotten a whiff of spit up that has crusted itself in a baby’s neck creases and gone sour?  oooof.); and a smattering of Sweetheart’s and Hon’s, for good measure.

Finally, she’s just lots and lots of fun right now.  After a few weeks of feeling like we were constantly trying to get her to stop crying or to sleep, she’s taken a turn and now loves to just stretch out on the floor and babble and smile and kick those chubby little legs.  And praise the Lord, she’s sleeping more!  On her best days, she naps for a couple hours in the morning and a couple hours in the afternoon.  On her OK days, I settle for one nap or the other.  And then there was yesterday, when she celebrated her two-month birthday by refusing to take a nap at all.  But dang it, she kept making these sweet little faces, so I forgave her…

Happy two months, Stinkpot.  It’s an honor to watch you grow.

On Saturday morning we loaded up our car with an ungodly amount of baby gear and headed south to Portland – Juliette’s first road trip!  Given her distaste for her car seat, we had our qualms about this little getaway; I considered calling Mitch late Friday night and telling him we simply weren’t ready to wreak that kind of havoc on our eardrums.  But I summoned my “adventurous” spirit and we pressed on with our plans, hitting the road right at naptime on Saturday and praying that Jules would fall asleep with little fuss.  And I’ll be danged, it actually worked.  She wailed for about 10 minutes around Tukwila (10 miles south of Seattle), but just as I started to cry along with her, longing to scoop her up into my arms and assure her we weren’t intentionally neglecting her, she conked out and hardly stirred the rest of the way to Portland – we made it to Mitch and Kathryn’s in record time, sanity still intact.

We spent most of the weekend just lazing around the house, enjoying Morgan and Elise as they enjoyed Juliette – it was a veritable cousin love-fest.  Morgan has adored her baby dolls for as long as I can remember, carrying them with her to bed and to the store and to the dining room table.  So you can imagine her enthusiasm over the chance to play with a real, live baby doll – she was immediately smitten with Juliette and had great fun tucking her in with her favorite blankie and her stuffed bunny, helping me with diaper changes and jammie time, tagging along when I went to get Juliette up from her naps.

Goodness, I can’t believe how much Morgan has changed in the four months since I’ve seen her.  Her hair is longer, her legs have lost that precious baby chub, and her will is stronger than ever.  She’s stubborn and sensitive and incredibly sweet (when she wants to be).

Elise also doted on Jules, with serenades on the guitar and cuddle sessions on the couch, but seeing as how she’s five, she’s very much into her big-girl stuff as well.  She started kindergarten this year and loves to play school; it turns out she is the strictest teacher on the planet, and Shane spent much of Saturday afternoon in time out for his refusal to properly follow directions.  She’s a chatterbox and a total riot – sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.  Mitch and I were discussing Christmas plans on Sunday when Elise announced that she wanted a “diarrhea”.  I raised my eyebrows at Mitch as he shrugged his shoulders and asked for clarification.

“What was that, Elise?”

“I want a diarrhea book.”

I bowed my head and stifled a giggle as Mitch delved deeper:  “You want a book about diarrhea?”

“Noooooo, Daddy, I want a diarrhea.  To write stuff in.  Karma has one.”

“Oh, you mean a diary?”

“Yeah, a diarrhea.”

By this point, I was breathless and red-faced with the effort of not laughing out loud.  Kids do say the darnedest things.

Shane and I sighed with relief and gratitude as we pulled back into our driveway on Monday afternoon – the weekend had been a smashing success.  Juliette traveled well, slept great, and soaked in some serious love from the Jarrell clan.  She’ll never have a big sister, but I suspect that these two will be pretty good surrogates.

Yesterday was the last day of Shane’s paternity leave – say it ain’t so!  I have loved having him home these last few weeks – not just because he takes the 6 am feeding shift, but because the three of us have such a good time hangin’ out together.  We made the most of his last week off, getting out (nearly) every day with Juliette for afternoon strolls at our favorite parks or lunch dates at our favorite restaurants.

A new walking trail just opened up in the greenbelt across the street from our house, so we headed out during a sunbreak last Tuesday to do some exploring.  It’s beautiful in there – thickly wooded and so quiet, save for the chirp of birds above or leaves crunching underfoot.

Despite gray skies and a forecast of rain, we drove over to Kubota Gardens on Wednesday, knowing it would be one of our last chances to take in the park’s fall colors.  We walked along the meandering paths, stopping every so often to snap a photo or give Juliette a close-up view of the bright red maples.  It sprinkled on us a bit, but we paid it no mind – we considered it Juliette’s crash course in Pacific Northwest living.

Shane’s mom arrived in Seattle on Friday morning, and after a quick snuggle session with her newest granddaughter, the four of us headed over to the 8 oz. Burger Bar for lunch, followed by a walk around Jefferson Park to burn off those truffled french fries.  Juliette snoozed through most of the outing – she wouldn’t open her eyes for a family photo, but somehow knew to wave to the camera!

We took advantage of Sunday’s sunshine for a walk along the water at Lincoln Park and then lunched at Geraldine’s Counter.  Again, Juliette snoozed…  Car seat crying was minimal this week, knock on wood!

We laid low the rest of the day on Sunday, hanging out at home and doting on this happy girl.  Juliette certainly sprouted her little devil horns from time to time this weekend, but for the most part, she was good to her grandma, cooing and smiling and wrapping yet another family member around her little finger.

Shane’s mom left for Minnesota yesterday morning, and Shane headed out the door promptly at 7:30 this morning to return to work. So it’s just me and Jules today, flyin’ solo…  Wish us luck!

I’ve had lots of quality time with my Kindle during Juliette’s middle-of-the-night feeding frenzies, and I just finished reading Glennon Doyle Melton’s Carry On, Warrior.  In her book (and her blog) she chronicles the ups and downs of being a wife and mother.  One of her most famous essays is “Don’t Carpe Diem“, in which she describes the pressure placed on parents to enjoy every single moment of their children’s lives, as it all goes by so quickly.  But the reality is that parenthood is often wrought with trials and tantrums and tears, and it’s unfair to expect moms and dads to spend all day, every day in a state of parental bliss.  Some days, the best you can hope for are just a couple of precious, fleeting moments with your kids.

Spot on, sister.

We had some bumps in the road today, with bouts of fussiness, stubborn resistance to naps, and hoped-for outings left undone.  I wanted to take Juliette to a Halloween party at my office, but the cute mo-hawked rockstar outfit I had planned for her fell to shambles, as she ended up looking more geeky grease monkey than punk rocker.  And I could tell she was tired and on the brink of a meltdown as I gathered our things to go.  I knew I was pushing it, pushing her, and it wouldn’t end well.  So I sighed, washed the coconut oil from her hair, and settled in for another marathon bounce session to get her down to sleep. And man, she fought that nap somethin’ fierce, with wailing and writhing and then the notorious naptime fake-out, acting all snoozy and limp-limbed only to pop open her eyes the second I put her in her crib. We were both at our wit’s end by the time she fell asleep (and four hours later, she’s still sleeping! that girl must have been zonked).

But let’s not forget the good stuff.  Like, hey!  Jules rolled over today!  She was in the midst of her morning tummy time session, lifting her head like a champ, when she leaned a little to the right.  And then she leaned a little farther, and a little more, and whoop!  She was on her back!  You’d think she’d just received her first college acceptance letter for all the hootin’ and hollerin’ Shane and I did.

And dang, this girl is flashing us some good smiles these days.  These aren’t “I just made a big poop” smiles.  These are “Hey!  Mama, Papa, you’re funny!” smiles.  As she laid on the floor after her morning snack, kicking her feet and waving her arms, she gave us a little smirk, which was all it took to throw Shane and I into a complete tizzy of silly songs and dance moves and smothering kisses, all the while coaxing bigger and bigger grins from our girl.  This feeling that she finally sees us, knows us, that we’re no longer just a bouncing robot and a milk machine – it turns us into a couple of giddy idiots. Joy runs deep when your screechy monkey sounds elicit a smile from your most favorite little person.

It wasn’t a perfect day. In fact, there were times when this day made me want to pull my hair out and hand Juliette off to the first trick or treater that came to our door. But those smiles. Sweet Jesus, those smiles! Best, brightest silver lining ever.

We’re in the midst of Autumn’s finest hour here in Seattle – brightly colored leaves, pumpkins on porches, and cool, crisp afternoons. We pulled our sweaters and scarves out of the back of our closet on Saturday and got our Fall on with a visit to Carpinito Brothers pumpkin patch in Kent. I have been getting together with a number of new moms from our church each week and had fun sharing the day with them and their families. Juliette is the newest little tot in the group – I asked her to stand on a pumpkin and smile for the camera, but she wasn’t havin’ it…

Photo by Jon Brenner

Clearly, pumpkins aren’t her favorite.

It wasn’t quite the carefree family outing we’d imagined, as Shane spent much of our time there doing the shush-bounce-walk among the pumpkins while Juliette wondered where on earth we had taken her. Turns out missy was super-tired – she dropped off to sleep within minutes of being tucked into her stroller.

Once our hands were free, I picked out a couple of perfect pumpkins and handed them to Shane to take to the pay station. He later told me that as he was standing in line, he caught himself absent-mindedly bouncing and shushing the pumpkins in his arms – oh, the things sleep deprivation will do to you! I giggled the rest of the day, imagining my husband soothing a squash.

On Sunday we gathered with friends at Emily and Daniel’s to carve pumpkins and eat dumplings and admire the kiddos in their sweet little costumes. I didn’t snap a single picture. Or carve a pumpkin. Or eat my usual fill of a dozen dumplings. Different priorities this year, I guess. But dang, that was some good cuddle time Jules and I shared on their couch…

We took advantage of yesterday’s sunshine and got out in the afternoon for a walk through the arboretum. The trees were donning their very best October outfits, in gold and orange and bright red.  I still maintain that Summer in Seattle can’t be beat, but days like today make Fall a very close second (I might be singing a different tune in November, after we’ve had 27 straight days of rain, but I digress…).

Juliette dozed off and on in her stroller, waking every so often to look up at the leaves with her wide, curious eyes. We’ve had a couple of challenging outings this past week, so we were thrilled to see her hang tight on an hour-long walk.  We even coaxed a smile out of her near the end!  We thought she was being all sweet, saying “Thanks for the walk in the park, Mom and Dad!”.  Now I know there was actually quite a bit of mischief behind that grin – turns out she was saying “Get ready, folks – I’m going to scream like hell on the car ride home!”  Oh, child…

Car seat tantrums aside, it’s been a pretty glorious October with this little pumpkin.  Whether we leave the house or not, every day is an adventure!

I have known for a very long time that Shane would make an amazing father, but I’ll admit that I initially questioned how comfortable he’d be with the newborn phase.  He’s like a magnet for toddlers and bigger kids, with his willingness to crawl around on the floor to play cars, or to toss a ball back and forth for hours on end.  But babies typically haven’t been his specialty – he was always shy about holding our friends’ little ones, unsure he had the proper head-supporting technique or spit-up damage control.  Diaper-changing was foreign, unnerving territory.  Newborns were fragile and intimidating and unable to speak Shane’s love language of “play”.

And then Juliette was born.

Sweet Jesus, this guy is a natural.  From the moment he first took her in his arms when she was less than an hour old, his ease and grace as a father was evident.  It took all of 2 days for him to become a diaper-changing pro (though he did panic a bit when that first big blow-out left him with a poop-streaked t-shirt).  He’s king at soothing her when she’s really fired up, bouncing her on our exercise ball and crooning his silly made-up songs (Juuuuuuliette, is on the ball, bouuuuuuncing, up and down…).  And damn, he’s just really, really good at loving her.  I’m seeing this different kind of tenderness in him, this knows-no-limits selflessness and vulnerability.  When Juliette was just a few days old and waking from one her epically short naps, I watched Shane on the baby monitor as he lifted her from her bassinet, and the softness of his voice murmuring “hi baby, it’s okay…” was new and heart-achingly sweet.  Sometimes I sit and stare at the two of them together, him shushing her quietly and stroking her hair while she drifts off to sleep in his arms, and I want to laugh and cry and fall on the floor under the weight of all our blessings.  So cheers, dear papa!  I know that Juliette isn’t old enough yet to understand just how lucky she is, and I know that some days you feel like a big bouncing robot as you desperately try to get our daughter to sleep, but remember that every minute spent on that dang exercise ball, every goofy song you sing, every sweet word you whisper – they’re all forming the little girl that will one day experience the comfort and confidence that comes with knowing she is fiercely, fiercely loved.

My hope is that I’ll chronicle each of Juliette’s monthly milestones with a few notes on what she’s currently loving/hating/learning.  But seeing as how I was busy wandering the parking lot of Southcenter mall on her actual one-month birthday, I’m a little late on this one.  Nonetheless, this is what we’ve figured out about our little girl thus far:

She is really stinkin’ cute when she sleeps. She’ll cycle through several different facial expressions as she dozes, first furrowing her brow and pouting her lips, then suddenly turning that frown into a smile and quietly chuckling to herself. And her arms are often stretched out straight in front of her, like she’s conducting an orchestra in her dreams. Thank god for these angelic moments of rest – they have offset some pretty intense bouts of fussiness.

She likes the shower – Shane or I bring her in with us every morning to hose her down, and she seems soothed by the sound and the feel of the spray of warm water. But ho-ly cow, this girl screams when you take her out. I have tried everything to ease the transition, drying her off and dressing her in the warm, steamy bathroom, but to no avail – my eardrums were vibrating this morning with the sound of her post-shower shrieks.

Her hair gets crazier (and cooler!) every day.  When she’s really cranky, Shane blames it on a “bad hair day”.

Shane is convinced that she loves Coldplay.  When she’s really fired up, he’ll sway her in his arms while singing along to X&Y.  And I’ll be danged, it works.  Once she’s mellowed out, we turn on the Yo Yo Ma to keep her cool.

She still really hates her car seat. We had barely made it out of the driveway this morning before Shane threatened to turn the car around. Juliette called his bluff and yelled even louder. Our friends tell us this is just a phase, but sweet Jesus, make it stop.

She’s a girl of many faces.  And these days, that face is flashing us more and more smiles.  Be still my beating heart.

I know, my last couple of posts have been syrupy sweet with new mama bliss, so allow me to present…the flip side.

Some days, this gig is rough. Yesterday was one of those days.  It was Juliette’s one-month birthday, and I had high hopes for the day – a photo shoot of our sweet little babe, a walk in the park, maybe a long nap…  Things got off to a rocky start with a bout of morning fussiness.  She wanted to be held constantly, which I don’t mind if it involves a cuddle session on the couch, but she wanted to be held and bounced.  Lord help me, the incessant bouncing…  We (meaning primarily Shane) have logged hours upon hours on that dang exercise ball, soothing the baby into a full-on, knocked-out, limp-limbed sleep, only to have her wake the second we stop to give our aching backs a rest.  We played this bounce/sleep/fuss game for a couple of hours yesterday morning before she finally conked out for a late morning nap.  Success!  She woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed around noon and I rushed her up to the nursery to snap a few pictures while she was alert and content, but she was less than photogenic, just staring at me blankly while I cooed and babbled.  My little song and dance eventually resulted in frustrated tears, for both of us.  I know, she’s a newborn, not a trick pony, but throw me a bone, girl!  I put away the camera and we spent a relatively quiet afternoon at home before deciding to get out and enjoy the sunshine.  I bundled her up and strapped her into her carseat for a ride to Jefferson Park.  She whined a little in the car, then cried a little as we walked the park’s loop, and began to wail as I took a detour to enjoy the fall foliage.  Back to the car it was, then.  The ride home was the longest five minutes ever – you’d think her car seat was lined with shards of broken glass, to hear her screaming.  Shane went for a quick run to decompress after I assured him I could handle her madness, but by the time he got home 30 minutes later, I was on the brink of a meltdown.  I was tired, and discouraged, and having a hard time finding the little girl I love inside our moody, red-faced monster.  Shane urged me to get out for awhile, so I grabbed my coat and flew out the door before he could utter the words “retail therapy”.  I found refuge in the mall, overwhelmed with my options now that I can shop outside of the maternity section.  I’ve still got some pregnancy pounds to shed, so finding the right fit has its challenges, but the break did me good.  By 8:00, I was ready to go home and make amends with my baby.  I headed out to the parking lot after making a quick stop at the Clinique counter to snag my bonus bag, but didn’t see the car outside of Macy’s.  Wait – had I parked outside of Macy’s?  I thought so…  I walked up and down the aisles of the lot three times before going back inside the store, to see if I could retrace my steps.  I completely drew a blank – I had absolutely no memory of walking into the mall.  I went back outside and walked the lot, again.  I started to panic.  I called Shane and really began to panic as I wondered aloud if our car had been stolen.  He was obviously helpless, at home and car-less with a sleeping baby, but he did his best to talk me off the ledge and then asked me to call a friend for a ride home while he looked into the protocol for reporting a stolen vehicle.  I called La Verne, doing my best to put on my calm and collected voice as I asked if she was busy, but she saw right through my guise and left her dinner guests immediately to come pick me up.  Is this who I’d become?  A lost, crazy lady wandering a mall parking lot in the dark, crying into her Jamba Juice?  As I was waiting for La Verne, I walked over to the adjacent Nordstrom parking lot, just to check, and…voila!  I have never been so happy to see our beat-up Civic.  I’ve also never been so embarrassed to call a friend and say, “Uh…nevermind.”  (Thanks, anyway, La V!)  I called Amanda on the way home, wanting to share my brush with insanity with a fellow mother, and as I told her that I felt like a total basket case, she kindly assured me, “You’re not crazy, Kel.  You’re just a sleep-deprived, hormonal new mom.”  True that.

Thankfully, the tides have turned today.  Juliette has flashed us dozens of smiles, as if she’s trying to make up for yesterday’s grump-fest, so we’re on speaking terms again.  I guess we both just needed a day to flush the crazy out.