Some Solutions

I just went back and found some posts where I was sharing how I was trying to figure out some stuff as a new mom. (Well... some of the issues don't have that much to do with being a mom -- just my life -- like the closets in our rented duplex.)

And since I have figured some of it out for myself, I thought I would share.

I apologize in advance, this post is just gonna be kinda a jumble of stuff.

The first solution I wanna share was my struggle to "Understanding The Toddler Mind."

Nearly a year ago, I shared with you how I just don't understand small children.

For some reason I get babies. Maybe because its pretty much eating, sleeping and cleaning.

But once they can show me a mind of their own, I'm lost.

I have never spent time around kids, unless you count when they were my peers, loooong before becoming a mom. My life just kinda lined up in a way that I never was around people much younger than me. And I never baby sat or anything. I also didn't take any classes on kids (unless you count that one in high school where they basically tried to scare teenagers away from getting pregnant by showing labor movies, giving you a fake baby doll that cries all night, and telling you how expensive kids are.)

So I've been lost. REALLY lost since Jasmine turned two.

I tried looking for some books, but I didn't come across what I was looking for until now.

(So, I totally missed out understand two year olds! :) We have moved on to being confused by three year olds now.)

I just grabbed this book of the library shelf this past week and I am LOVING it!

Its called: "Your Three Year Old: Friend or Enemy" by Louise Bates Ames. (I found the inclusion of the word "Enemy" a turn off, but I get the usage of it, and I'm glad I still grabbed the book despite my idealism.)

I don't know if anyone else would like it. But its seriously EXACTLY what I was hoping to find. Just a book that explains what a person of that age is like: what they are capable of, what they find difficult, what a stereotypical persona of that age looks like, what they enjoy, what they dislike, basics of their day and how they see the world.

Its like the author read my mind on what I needed to know.

Now the book is a little older. It came out in 1985. So I read a couple reviews on amazon of some of her books where people were thinking it didn't apply now. But, I can say for me its a total hit. The author acknowledges that every kid is an individual and they each go through things in their own way -- but the generalizations she makes really do fit what me and Jasmine are going through. And I find it really reassuring because I never could tell before I read this if she was doing something strange, or something that needs correction, or if its just an age appropriate thing she will out grow. And as long as I know its just an age thing I don't feel compelled to worry about it any more. And I can take deep breathes and just say, "It will get better."

I'll be going back and reading the one year old and two year old books for Ruby's sake. And I'll definitely be reading the four year old book and likely the rest too. (They go up to nine years old, and then there is a book covering 10 -14 years old.) The one I'm reading is really helping me out, so I'm definitely looking forward to the others.

Ok moving on to clothes:

Around Thanksgiving last year I whined about having no nice jeans and not being able to find underwear that fit, are cute, comfy and not wedgie machines.

Waiting is Painful. {Part 2}

Yesterday I left off half way through sharing the hardest parts of my second pregnancy -- emotionally, as I waited for a VBAC.

39 Weeks. On Jasmine's 2nd Birthday.

So today I'm just gonna dive right in and finish it up.

• Through my pregnancy, well at least once we moved, I swam laps for exercise. I loved it. But it was a love hate relationship. Because every time I went I felt like I was fighting for it --- fighting for the ability to VBAC. And so I had to face my fears and myself every day in that pool. Usually about half of my 30 mins was spent talking myself down from a place of worry about something, and then those sweet endorphins would kick in and for the rest I was able to just glide and forget. I was so grateful. Those workouts were one of the only things that kept me sane during my pregnancy. But there was one day where I was just so full of deep, deep need to "win" (win what? Win back what I lost I guess. I wasn't sure. But it was strong.) that I couldn't calm down like I was used to half way through. I just stayed tense and mad. So that day I swam like I've never swam before or since. Just full speed. Like my life depended on it. Pulling my body down the lane with every single fiber of the muscles in my arms, while my legs furiously fumed at the monsters behind me. I went until I thought my heart might just explode, and I kinda considered how that might be bad for the baby, but I knew I had to do something in the pool that day. I didn't quite know what it was, but I was going to do it. I spent the rest of my lap time doing that, until I finally felt like I swam fast enough to leave what ever monster was behind me, behind me. And I left the pool feeling accomplished but worn clean out. That feeling comes back to me sort of regularly. The memory of all that.

Why it turned out ok:
Well I did a couple posts (1 & 2) on why working out while you are pregnant is a good thing. And I am so sold on that after my experiences. I'm so glad I did those work outs. They were so important to my hormonal emotional stability that Blake would tell me to make sure I got those work outs in because he could see me starting to crack when I would miss them. And doing all that hard work really did pay off. I did not gain as much pregnancy weight, I looked better and felt better, and I was much more able to keep up with labor this time.

• The next hard thing was this trip to the doctor. For insurance coverage on chiropractic care, I had to go to our college health center. (Blake's not a student any more, but the system is dumb and gives him student insurance.) Where doctor, a non-OBGYN doctor, told me about how scary and deadly birth is and how since I've had a c-section I would need another one. And I had to sit through that so I could get a tiny bit of insurance reimbursement for chiropractic treatment. (Which he lamely told me would not make my pelvis bigger. That's when I almost rampaged. But instead, I just nearly-yelled how I didn't want my pelvis any bigger I wanted proper alignment.)

Why it turned out ok: It was the only reason I ended up going to an ICAN meeting. Which I got an immense amount of healing and help and support from. AND I got to prove that guy really really wrong. And I never had to see him again.

Waiting is Painful. {Part 1}

I really don't know why this just won't leave my head. I don't know if its some residual emotional healing I need to undergo or if maybe this post might encourage or prepare someone else.  But I just CANNOT get it out of my head.
I haven't had time to sit down and do it but my thoughts are starting to just overtake me.  So I'm gonna start typing.  It's gonna be long.
(So for that reason I split it in two parts.)
I'm not sure who's gonna wanna read it but I'm putting it out there!  Have at it!

I'm gonna share the hardest parts of my second pregnancy -- emotionally -- all regarding the fact that I REALLY wanted to VBAC and was really scared I wouldn't be able to, because of maybe physical stuff like pelvis shape, baby size & position and that kinda stuff, as well as things like labor stamina sans epidural and such.

39 Weeks. On Jasmine's 2 year old Birthday.

Much of the time I didn't feel like I had the emotional control to make it to the end of my pregnancy without needing to see professional help.  And likely it would have been a good idea, but I didn't know where to turn.  The few times I attempted seeking some, I didn't get anywhere.

Like I said, I don't know why I need to do this post.  So I'm not totally sure the angle I'm gonna take, so hold on to your hats as you ride this one with me.  I'm not gonna pretty it up, or hide my crazy, or the emotions I'm embarrassed I had.  I feel like I need to write them out.

DIY Baby Shower Gifts

Ok, if this post doesn't have proper grammar (or make any sense at all...) please forgive me. My one year old is teething four molars at once, it gives her a fever and I literally spent at least 9 hours getting her to bed last night. (And lets not get into how that wakes up my three year old.) So I'm doing my best to communicate at an understandable level.

Anyway,

We went out of town last weekend so Blake could do a 5K color run with his sister and brother in law

they had lots of fun.

 And another of his sisters had a baby shower while we were there. (We are so excited! We are getting so many cousins all of a sudden! Its great!)

I wanted to make her some things for it. And so somehow I managed to do it. A couple things I started early. And for the rest, I had one day where I worked like crazy durning nap time (Jasmine doesn't nap any more, but she has some quite play time in her room while Ruby does her second nap.) And then just really pushed through the rest of the afternoon asking the girls to entertain themselves. And I finished after they went to bed (the molars hadn't started this madness yet.)

I thought I'd show you what I made incase you are wanting to do a very esty-like DIY kinda Baby Shower Gift.

On the Side...

So I asked your thoughts the other day about a second blog.

And your response was near silence. :) (I keep thinking that line from "The Princess Bride" -- "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.")

So, I'm going with my gut.

I'm making a second blog.

I already had the perfect name -- why not!?

But that's not really why I made it. Really I just want a spot where I don't constantly ask, is this something that will make someone else feel bad? I like this Walking with Dancers blog to be for others.

And this new blog is not gonna be a blog for advice or opinions or ideas.

Its just gonna be my journal.

I'm going to honestly remember this time.

The good, the bad, the beautiful.

I know I could do that on this blog -- but something feels more safe this way. And safe helps me be real. And real is what I want to be.

I figure it will be the more appealing blog for my beloved Grandma who lives in Montana (and I miss so much) and doesn't get to know my girls as much as anyone would like. She doesn't care about mom hair. She cares about what Jasmine said the other day and what Ruby is learning right now. And that's what she's gonna get over there. Well that and some of how I feel about it all.

(Oh and by the way, I'm sticking to their alias names on that blog too. Jasmine is the older, Ruby the younger.)

I don't think I'm gonna do a lot of photos -- mostly because it takes so much more time. And I just want a word outlet right now. (My fingers often want to use a computer keyboard like a story-piano.) But who knows, time will tell. Maybe photos will happen?

Anyway. So to you my dear readers, you are invited to read or not read the random semi pointless smallnesses of my life I will record there.
Stick around here for the standard, blog sometimes about something I know.
Go there for the unforetold-how-often-it-will-be-plubished blog about things I experience.

And if you want a mini-vent-fest about who I am right now, check out the about me page on there to hear a bit more about my current plight.

Enjoy the ride (or not) with me!

The new co-sister-blog:
Pressing Baby's Breath

More Mom Hair

Thought I'd show you another one of my mom hair tricks today.

This one is particularly helpful for once your dealing with sorta-kinda-grown-out baby hairs but those fun little guys they aren't long enough to really work with yet. (If you are wondering what I'm talking about: you get 'em after you shed your pregnancy hair in mass, and then it starts to all grow back at once)

(The stage right before this, where they are just non-helpable, is the "funnest".  Just grin and bare it. :) It grows.)

Anyway,
Mine are starting to be functional(ish) right now, around a year out from birth. But they still are quite short and want to escape most my stylings. (Or lack of stylings on a bla day.)
When my hair is down I like to combine some mousse and smoothing serum and rub it into my hair line while its wet.
But on the days where I want my hair up. (Which is often -- its kinda just the way I like it. Easy, pretty and functional.) I'm loving this thing!

After trying to google for this thing under weird-name-attempts I finally figured out its officially called:

 a flexible stretch comb.

I think these came out when I was just about to go into Jr High. At least thats the first time I'd ever seen one. And being that I was a junior higher, (and jr highers are awkward) the first girl I ever saw wearing one, wore it soooooooo poorly that I literally thought she had brain surgery and had terrible football-lace-stitches around her skull.

So I never wanted to own one of these after that!

Then I had a baby (years later),

and I was watching Project Runway on DVD and Heidi Klum just so happened to wear one so shockingly well (and I mean, that's just how she wears anything) that I wanted to go buy one right that instant! She erased years of hair-horror in an instant!

(I tired really hard to find a picture of her in the hair style online, but I can't. Its driving me so crazy that I may end up re-watching seasons 2 &4 (which are the ones I think I had watched -- but I'm not even sure!) just to find it. She had one of these flexible stretch combs in, and her hair was all lose and wavy and then done into a french braid.  -- I mean she just reglamourized french braids for me right then and there too! (Yeah they are cool again now, but they weren't back then she was going out on a limb and rocking it.))

(If for some reason you know what I'm talking about, let me know what season it is, or send me a pic!)

Anyway, I thought, "She made that look so good, no one is gonna convince me this thing isn't cool."

So I just wore it with confidence from day one.

It seriously fixes so many of my hair issues at the moment.

I had it tucked away since our move, and just pulled it out this week and I'm loving it all over again!

And Blake loves when I wear it. 

And that makes it that much sweeter!

I throw this hair style together in 2 mins and Blake thinks I'm runway worthy.

Never hurts a girl's day to get that kind of reaction.

To do it, I just pull my hair up in a lose messy pony tail. 

Fasten this thing around my neck, carefully pull it up over my face, tuck it into my hair, and pull it back.

You can keep it tight, or kinda fluff the hair up. 

(I like both, but my baby hairs are so short I don't do much fluffing for now)

Then I take the pony tail out and redo it. 

I like to puff the top of the hair behind the headband,

and then put the rest in a messy blob-bun.

My headband's fastener is kind lose and can open up, so I tuck a bobbie pin up into the headband on either side of the fastener and it stays put all day.

My hair is also shorter underneath still from when I cut it all off. 

So I stick two long bobbie pins across the back (between the headband and the bun) to hold that in place.

And there you have it.

If you missed them here are two other old mom hair posts: 1, 2

Stuff and a Teething Project

I can't seem to blog lately.

I'm really lost inside myself currently.

This going-to-move, but-not-for-months thing takes a lot out of me.

I get so weary in the waiting. And I don't really know what to do about it.

I mean, I know there is TONS of stuff I want to get done.

Like clear out all the closets. Go through all our paperwork and shred junk that we don't need anymore.  And more stuff like that. Plus I've been sewing bow ties for Blake's new job.

(Directions)

But none of this stuff is done because well, I have two tiny girls, who take up my days. I'm trying to be good and fit workouts back in my days. And my nights are still rather sleepless.
And I want to get down on myself for that like, "If you had only....blablabla...then you'd get more sleep." But constantly I need to remember I'm doing my best. And I'm making my best choices. And no matter what worked for someone else (on any certain topic of life) life is not one size fits all. And actually life does not have any rules. (Laws --- yes, like "Thou shall not kill." But rules like --"make these choices" -- no.) And it kills me really, because I love rules and I like to follow them. But then again that's not true, as a kid my brother always yelled at me for not following the board game rules. But I do like order. And I miss having someone be in charge of ME. And I don't always like being in charge of anyone else. I am constantly second guessing if I am doing it right. And now it doesn't just affect me, it affects my husband and my two children. Sheesh. PRESSURE!
I'm trying to calm myself down. I'm trying to get more comfortable with "not perfect" but my personality SCREAMS for perfection. Its like my past time to sit down, look at something, see it for what it is, analyze it for what it could be and should be, and then figure out the BEST way to get there.
That's gonna be a rough go for me and motherhood. I'm still such a newbie, and the start of mootherhood is rather bootcamp like, and I can't figure out a way to take a break (but that's another tangent of brain explosion.) I keep telling myself it gets better. I keep trying to take a break from my personality so I can get a break from this PRESSURE.

I watched this movie "Today's Special" on Netflix. (Kinda cute. Not phenomenal.) And its about this guy who wants to be a chef but needs to take over his family's hole in the wall restaurant. And he meets this guy who teaches him how to lighten up and feel what he cooks not follow the rules. It kinda inspired me to: STOP IT! For heaven sake.
(But then again I can start the whole whirling stupidity about perfecting the "stop it." Its rough.)

Anyway....
Moving.
(Yeah it does go together in my head.)
I want to get into our new phase and get settled. And "start life." So far since being married its all been temporary jobs. This next one is a settle in job. And I'm craving that so bad. I just want it now.
5 more months.
I spend all this time day dreaming about it, and how to make it function once we are there.

But then there are these moments, here and now, when it feels like the worst bandaid peeling of all time. I started out not liking it here. But then we thought we would stay, so I started saying I could love it. And somewhere, somehow, in between those, some of the most amazing things of my life happened. I worked through the biggest terror of my life and saw the biggest victory of my life here. (VBAC.) And in the midst I met some of the most amazing people.

So sometimes I'll be on a walk and the setting sunlight will hit our watertower (with the town's name brazened on it) and it will take my breath away and pierce my heart with an ache so deep I didn't know I had that spot in my heart. And it starts to make it hard to breath, knowing I won't be taking these walks on these streets anymore. And I start to feel confused. And I start to feel shocked to think I may not have another reason to be in this town again.
That it's all over.
That it happened and is done.

AND THEN>>>
I realize I have 5 more months.

And I get scared to fall in love harder and longer.
AND now my scab is kinda pulled off with the band aid, and we need to put a new one back on, and I know its just gonna have to get pulled off again.

Its the longest goodbye.




I don't know.

I'm rambling.

AND
This Blog.
I'm floundering on it.
A few more people have found it and are following it.
And I put pressure on myself to make what I say count. Make it good. Make it important.
And I don't know what you want to hear. And I debate starting a separate sister blog, so I can have one that's more for me, and less for anyone else. (But you could read it if you wanted.) One where I can be more relaxed. One that just talks about my days, and my girls, and how I love them, and how sometimes I can't stand anything at all, but I still love it - I just need more sleep.
And then I think, "well why can't you put that in this blog?"
And maybe I could.
But maybe you wouldn't want all that. That much of me.
Because really this blog isn't ME, me --- Its me-that-knows-things.
SO maybe I need a different blog for me-that-knows-nothing.
Or something.

So I feel in a stand still on what to put on here.
And the serious topics I want to post about take so much time to compile. (And the lack of time....)

But so, in the interest of making sure you don't think I am dead.
I blog today
this random blob of a blog.

And
Because I took pictures.
And its something I "know"
I'll throw this in there:

Have you every heard of a wubbanub?
No?
Me either. Till recently.
It's a really cute pacifier stuck into a small stuffed animal.
I mean, genus! It helps tiny babies hold onto a paci easier. AND it helps you not lose the darn thing.

AND....
Ever heard of a Raz teether?
Yeah, that was new to me too.
I inquired of my facebook friends what to do to help my poor teether a while ago. They all said this thing was awesome.
And it is pretty great.

So I kinda combined the two into my own RAZZYWUBBANUB-thing.

I put a ribbon through the loop of the teether and then sewed it onto one of those security blanket stuffed things. 

Mainly in the interest of not losing the teether again.

So far, not lost.

Yay!

My daughter is one year old. And I don't leave her alone with this. 

I don't feel she is in any danger of hurting herself with this. 

If you want to do this, and your baby is younger you will want to consider if you feel he or she is safe with this idea. And you may want to keep the ribbon a lot shorter.

Anyway:

If you follow my blog and have any thoughts at all, about a second sister blog vs. blathering on and on about more personal stuff on this blog -- seriously let me know. You read this thing. Tell me why you are here. I'll take it very seriously. You mean a lot to me.