Size

We had our first big pediatrician visit in Louisiana earlier this week.  A lot of the usual check up stuff with the dreaded shots, weight, height, etc. I was excited to get Elsa's height and weight because this will be her last appointment before she turns the big 2-0, just kidding, she will only be two. 


When Nyah turned two, I read up that this was the best age to determine what height the child will be as an adult. There are several formulas out there but I guess by doubling the child's height at the age of two is a good indicator of what their adult height will be. Another is based on parents heights, and the child's height and weight at a given age. An awesome and fun little parenting tool, I thought, like guessing the sex of a child during pregnancy by peeing on Draino (have you heard of that one), or doing the Chinese gender chart. 


Well, the height predictor put Nyah at a statuesque 5'9".  And as I ignorantly put Elsa's information in yesterday, excited for the results of my child's future, it predicted her at the age of eighteen to be...5'3". And though I think these are both beyond the perfect heights for our girls, I couldn't help but feel sort of jipped, robbed of the sheer delight it must bring to watch your child physically grow and grow into the beautiful adult they are meant to be, without knowing when they are finished. 

I immediately wanted to give the information back, permanently erase it from my memory because what business of mine is it to predict these girls futures? I mean what if this info lingers in the back of my mind and then the next thing you know I'm steering Nyah away from becoming a jokey and Elsa from being a runway model or volleyball star because I don't want them to get let down or fail? I don't want to let the knowledge of their predicted heights allow me to put them in a box in life because that is a total rip off and completely unfair to my children because the journey and dealing with and overcoming let downs and failures is what building character is all about.


So thanks to modern medicine and simple math equations we are now being way too invasive in our childrens' lives. I mean we look at them in the womb, their protected little world without second thought. And though the medical benefits way outweigh the weirdness of it all, hello, we are not supposed to see in there.


So does height matter in either direction? I think absolutely not, especially in matters that deal with the brain because knowledge is power and that is what I hope they depend on most in life. And as George so kindly reminded me, there are those that defy the odds in life each and every day. 

So wether I will be stretching up to kiss their beautiful cheeks or bending down a bit my heart will remain confident that these two girls will be capable of anything they set their minds on because on the inside, they are both giants.

Crazy Lady

What have I been up to? Oh nothing, you know, just going obsessive compulsive on a few projects I have going around here. I am not the extremely crafty type, besides the little projects Nyah and I do, but lately I have been a fanatic. Over the top, gotta accomplish things. Now.

I have been working on painting this little flea market dresser for the girls, photos to come. Why isn't white good enough? Good question, possibly because I'm posessed.

I whipped up these applique shirts up yesterday. Hunched over, snipping the little letters out seemed to give me piece of mind, for some strange reason. My fingers still hurt.

This morning, I woke up and randomly went crazy organizing my mom's kitchen. It was time. The space just had to be organized and cleaned, right then and there. But of course, not without a little help from old school friend Jay Z bumpin' in the background.


I remember when I was prego with Nyah, I decided I needed to make a quilt and I did. I painted animal pictures for her room. Elsa was born in December so I got to get all of my mad woman craziness out on the Christmas decor and baking. The neighbors must have seriously had a sugar high for most of December.


I am learning a few things about my self and am realizing (since this my gajillionth baby) that this might just be my odd little way of nesting. I would do normal things like wash baby clothes and stuff but I am still waiting for the Postal Service to toss my boxes around a little more so they arrive to us in a nice ball shape. I am sure they have a few more weeks to go to achieve this shape. Thats okay, just happy our possessions are making the long journey here, as a few have trickled in. I have my fingers crossed baby boy's things arrive before delivery, which if my craftiness is indeed my unique version of nesting, could be sooner than later.

Prepping

This week, I have just started to think that I should prepare for the new baby. I haven't done anything, seriously. Its real and I need to get with it. I don't want to fit the stereotype I have heard so often about how the last or in our case, third child, is allowed to do whatever and is all but neglected. 


I understand where this stereotype comes from. With practice makes perfect, or makes one more relaxed and confident and for us at least, by the time the third child arrives, I think (I hope) we will know what to expect, minus his little personality quirks. So what's the need for all the fuss and stress?


With Nyah, I was thrown numerous baby showers where I received beyond the amount of gifts one human deserves, from overly generous family and friends, picked from a mega baby store using a small hand held scanner. I had everything for her, wipe warmer, special pillows for nursing, special medical kits, special blankets, you name it. 


When Elsa came along, I had luckily saved everything from Nyah and was able to reused it. I obviously didn't ship the big stuff, like obnoxious swing, exersaucer, etc but that was fine. I didn't miss any of it and realized I didn't need any of it. The purpose of all the stuff seems to be just to make one small moment in the mothers life and small stage in the child's life easier and then to take up a lot of space. 


Elsa, from birth, has lived a contraption free life, minus a swaddling blanket. She has always been left to her imagination and allowed to lie, roll, sit, scoot, crawl and walk to her hearts delight without being confined to a piece of plastic. Our major investment with her were some mega padding puzzle like pieces for the hard tile floor which we are still using in the girls play area. We child proofed the house and set her free. She walked early and is extremely independent, has killer concentration for her age and enjoys playing alone, preferably looking at books. So this is the route we will take with the little guy, a plastic contraption free life. 


I have a carrier, swaddling blankets, co sleeper (in fact, haven't even put it away), the girls bedding is cobalt blue, everything is gender neutral so other than clothes, which my generous friends have totally hooked me up with, we might be set. I think. I hope. Bottles? Nope, breastfeed and try not to leave baby much. Cloth diapers? I just might go there this time, oh yeah, we got a washer and dryer. Booyah. Yup, it's the little things in life.


What I have been doing most of all to prepare little dudes arrival is reading. Lots. I totally engulfed myself with reading when I was pregnant with Ny. I wanted to know all there was to know about natural child birth and breastfeeding. None of the woman in my family knew much about these topics, in fact, I think my poor grandmother was knocked out for her "births". So since I really had no one to bestow this important womanly wisdom on me, I hit the books, naturally. My all time favorite book and the one I credit with teaching me the most was, Spiritual Midwifery, written by the badass midwife, Ina May Gaskin in 1976. 

If you are pregnant and have any interest in the beauty of child birth, you gotta read this book. 

A little crunchy and hippyish (some of the woman have harry arm pits) but it tells the birth stories of hundreds of women written by the mother herself, father, friend, or midwife who attended the birth. The numerous stories of how the mommas repeatedly had uncomplicated, untraumatic birthing experiences was so enlightening and get this, the majority of them did it on a farm. No hospital. They all did it, without drugs, without C sections. And they survived. The statistics are amazing, at times unbelievable. 


It's empowering and I credit this book with giving me the confidence to relax, trust my body and embrace the life changing labor and delivery experience I had with Nyah. The woman's stories in the book helped me realize that delivering a baby is normal and something I am perfectly capable of doing and in fact was born to do. It is a nice way to counter the horror stories so common in our culture today. 


Couldn't resist including a picture of the little beauty who changed my life in more ways than I can count.

So, I have picked up my treehugging tendencies again and ordered Ina's newest book, Ina May's Guide to Childbirth. 

Love it, so far. Haven't finished it yet but enjoying more inspirational stories along with more technical info of how to get 'er done in the delivery room. 


And there you have it, the most important item I have purchased thus far in preparation for baby boys arrival. Also, now accepting, in advance all good vibes anyone wants to send this way for a quick and peaceful delivery of a healthy baby. By far the best gift we could receive as we prepare ourselves and our lives for the newest addition.

And how could I forget a photo of the precious Elsa Christiana who brings joy and light to our lives daily.

Wives Tales

So here is how the story goes and before I start this very personal story I have to include that I am not a superstitious person. No way, no how. I like science and there is usually an explanation for almost everything in life. I also have to include that I can't believe I am telling this story, though I write a blog I would like to think of myself as a private person, keeping information dear to my heart private, but I guess I just feel like telling this story.


Well, when Nyah and I returned to the island to start our new life, as I have mentioned before, Nyah had a babysitter from down island who apart from putting grease in her hair was always bestowing her traditions, superstions and wives tales on me about the way I was raising Nyah. If the babysitter was sick, she thought it was probably because she walked in front of the fridge after ironing, tea and other mixtures could cure symptoms of illness (some do work), Nyah had to be bathed twice a day, the thought of taking a child outside in the rain was deplorable, and the ultimate; when a child bends over to look between their legs, they are looking for their "next brother or sister". 

Nyah January 2009- first week in STX.

My child, of course, was always on her head in a perfect downward dog position so I was constantly teased that I should be careful because the next baby was coming.  Vida was wonderful and never hesitated to get all up in my business but I loved her for that, I needed someone in my business. Laugh it off I did but sure enough Elsa joined us soon after.


Fast forward a year to this October. Nyah and Elsa were staying at my mother in law's while George and I were out on a rare date. When we returned, my mother in law had something to tell me but hesitated knowing I would be upset, she later tells me. 

We head to the gym a couple weeks later, after I had discovered we had been blessed with yet another surprise miracle. The wonderful woman who cares for and loves my children at the gym, Mrs. G., informed me that Elsa was bent over looking between her legs all morning and she was getting after her to stop, knowing that I would be upset if I caught her doing this. Mrs.G. told me this "just to warn me". Mind you, Nyah was almost two years old when she started this acrobatic position and Elsa was but ten months. I guess Nyah has taught her a thing or two and Elsa has even done a front roll she has gotten so into this position. So all I could do that morning was laugh/cry and tell Mrs.G the news. 

After breaking the news to my mother in law, she revealed Nyah was on her head the evening earlier in the month and she already knew I was expecting. 


Seriously? These women are smart (or at least with me just making a safe statement), they've really got something going. I love wives tales, there is always something to them and I just feel extremely lucky to be learning those of another culture and humoring them in their correct predictions. I have to admit that I am sure I will someday be saying these very things to other women if not my own girls in the way, way, way future. So women beware of acrobatic children and the words of down island women.  


And for those who are wondering, this is the last baby. Last hurrah, shows over, thanks folks, nothing more to see here. 

Seasons Change

Rain, rain go away... Nyah keeps singing this song this morning as the rain comes down from the tropical depression that is out there somewhere. School was canceled for Nyah. She was sad.  I am trying to explain to her that this is cause for celebration but I guess she will understand in time. I will just enjoy her enthusiasm for school as long as it last, which is hopefully forever. 

So far, the highlight of Nyah's day is getting the opportunity to put on long pants. The novelty of pants never fails to get her going. We don't get the opportunity to wear pants often. The lucky girl has no clue. With that being said, it is looked down upon here to take a child out without proper clothing on when the elements present. It is hard for me to remember to dress the girls in the extra gear when, well most of you understand, the temp isn't below fifty degrees and or snow isn't on the ground. 


When Elsa was a wee little one an elderly woman in the air conditioned pharmacy was questioning where Elsa's socks were. Mind you it felt like a sweltering 100 degrees outside. George and I were stammering, of course feeling horrible when the woman proceeded to tell us that, "Babies have feelings too". Talk about neglectful parent. Ugh. Now I try to pay closer attention and comply with the clothing expectation here so the girls don't "catch a draft" as they say, which still confuses me, but I think it is a cold.


I know I lost my thick skin for cold weather because I really feel even the slightest drop in temp. Honestly, I'm a wimp in the cold. In fact, I am drinking coffee as I type and enjoying the nostalgic feeling of fall while it lasts. The coffee maker hasn't been on since the last time one of my parents were on island. I guess my body is still programed for the change in season. Seasons do change here, you just have to look a little closer. And by the willingness of those who live here to bundle up, even those raised under the sun, it makes me suspect that I am not the only one who looks forward to the change.


I have a feeling will be enjoy our "snow day" indoors, snuggling in our sweat pants, and pretending its fall...just for the day. Cross your fingers the power doesn't go out. Hope you all are enjoying the change in season.