"Little Forrest, he's doing just fine. About to start school again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong. He's really good. We fish a lot. And every night, we read a book. He's so smart, Jenny. You'd be so proud of him."
Toward the end of that monologue, about the time that Forrest says "He's so smart, Jenny," he breaks down in tears. It's pretty much the absolute best summarization of me talking to Cody at the end of every day when he asks about Ella's day. We don't do much fishing, and I'm probably the worst person in America at ping-pong, but we do a lot of things together, and I love teaching her new things. Some of them were dumb things to teach, like how to climb the ladder to the slide, or how to use my blush brush... but we do all sorts of different things everyday. Usually, I love it. But sometimes... sometimes... she's too smart for her own good. So much so that she's learned how to completely maneuver the DVD player. So when I'm binging on "Chopped" (is there a greater show on television? No.), she knows how to switch it to "Frozen," just to see me cry. She's learned how to get to pictures and videos on my phone and almost uploaded a video of the baby moving around my stretched marked stomach to Facebook. Help us Lord, I would have been so mortified. She's learned how to get into the bathtub and turn on the shower, clothes or no clothes. The real conundrum is that she's afraid of the shower, but by God, she turns it on anyway. She's obsessed with everything having a "house" and it doesn't matter how inconvenient it makes my life, she finds new nooks and crannies everyday. This wouldn't be a problem if my makeup and various necessities weren't involved. I once found my camera charger inside of one of her "Ride Along" toys. I didn't even know she knew the compartment existed.
"Kaylea, just put your things away and you won't have these problems!" Shut up.
Anyway, back to my initial thought... I love that she loves to learn. I love her intelligence, her curiosity, her intrigue... I absorb every second of that brilliant little mind. But She. Exhausts. Me. This side of 6 months ago, whenever I heard a crash and bang and a dramatic scream, I found myself moving with lightening speed and vigilance to rescue her. These days, I count to five before I get up... just to make sure it's a real cry. "What fresh hell is this?" I mutter to myself as I trudge to the playroom, only to find my drama queen irate that her toy is in the bottom of the basket and she can't get to it. "Why did I get off of the couch just to find you throwing a fit?," I say in my best annoyed tone. *tears and jabber* I reach into the basket, grab the object of her angst, and hand it to her with little to no enthusiasm. "Tan Chu Mama!" She says gleefully as she runs out of the room and drops her toy on the tile, sparking another fit of rage. I sigh, walk past her as she follows me in tears, the toy left abandoned in the hall. I pick her up and carry her to the rocking chair while she cries it out, then gently kiss her head when she finally calms down. "You're just gonna have to get over it, girl..." I say as she waves at me through red cheeks and snotty nose. I put her down and she prances away, rambling to herself about only the Lord knows what. And we replay that same scene at least ten times a day. Minimum. Maybe the start up of the story is different, but it's the same situation. Some days are better than others, yes, but it can wear on a Mom. It can wear on any Mom, don't even factor in a pregnant one. So sometimes, when I give Cody a run through of the day, my voice breaks half-way through. And I always think of Forrest Gump's speech, and I always laugh. The situations are totally different, but the emotions feel so similar to me. I don't know why... but it'll be something I think of every time I watch "Forrest Gump."
Anyway. I've really tried to reign in my temper this month, and find myself asking "Am I upset with Ella, or are my hormones upset with Ella?" It's been a fury filled month of prayers of grace and lots of "Mommy needs a MINUTE!" But things are looking up from last month. They really, truly are. I've learned the hard truth about humble bragging, as Cody and I used to humble brag on Ella almost non-stop. With great and warranted reason, as she really was the best baby. She slept all night, never got sick, had the sweetest little disposition, and was content almost constantly. We had a fantastic baby... but we have a rough toddler. We've entered into the phase of fits. Throwing herself in the floor in hysterics while we hide our laughs, sitting down stubbornly and refusing to move when she doesn't get her way, fifteen minute long tear sessions... vicious cycles. There have been times recently that we've declined social engagements because I didn't want to risk the general public witnessing my sweet little psycho. Cody and I talked back and forth about it one day... has the damage been done? Have we raised a brat? Is this our life for the next 18 years? I think no. I think she's learning she's allowed to have an opinion and a voice, and sometimes it means that we're at the mercy of those opinions. I hope that this is a short lived phase, and that as she really learns to speak and communicate, these aren't as frequent... but until then, we breathe deeply and trust our friends when they tell us we aren't alone. Our child isn't the exception. We didn't raise a bad seed. We hold tightly to those words. And hide in bathrooms and eat candy bars.
Otherwise, I'm trucking along with what I hope to be the most laid back baby in America. As most of you know by now, there's a sweet baby boy growing in my uterus, and I'm so excited to meet him I can hardly stand it. I wouldn't say I'm super thrilled about fighting Ella with a newborn on my bosom, but hopefully that phase is short lived and we find a rhythm quickly. I think I'll be able to handle things a little easier with him on the outside, because right now I exhaust so, so easily that I hardly have the energy to fight Ella too hard on things. Newborn tired and Pregnancy tired are two totally different tireds... pregnancy is mental AND physical, where I hope to be able to go up the stairs without gasping for air after he's born. I think it's going to be okay. I think I'm going to survive.... but it's not really a choice I have, is it? Ready or not, here he comes.
I knew from the beginning that this was a boy. Moms just have this creepy intuition about things sometimes. I wanted Ella to have a sister so badly, A. Because I always wanted one, and B. because convenient... but I knew he was a boy. I had several dreams that he was a she, but my gut always said Boy. I was bursting at the seams to know, so we actually found out way back in week 15. Then I really enjoyed the secret. And then I got even more pregnant and tired, so never felt like taking the gender reveal pictures. We let our families know, because my mother was about to make me lose my mind (in her defense, I was acting like I didn't care and would find out at 20 weeks.) Her reaction was worth every second of it. I won't post the video, because I choose life, but it's probably the funniest thing I've ever seen. Ella watches it and just laughs and laughs. It was really sweet, and if we were planning any more babies, I would find a way to surprise her again. But with this baby, I really feel confident and content with our family. Cody is so excited to have a baby to "carry on" the Gaines Bloodline, and I know that even though it'll be a different relationship than the one he has with Ella, there is no man better suited to raise my son. He's been on both sides of life, meaning one with the Lord and one without, and I know he can use that knowledge in whatever we come against in raising a "man." We don't want to be foolish or naive, as we know we're going to come into situations that will require grace and forgiveness with both of our kids... and while proud of my life, I don't know that "I'VE GONE TO CHURCH MY WHOLE LIFE AND MET YOUR DAD WHEN I WAS EIGHTEEN" will do for us in some of those situations. He brings wisdom and enlightenment to these situations, and can truly testify that the righteous way is the way that brings life, and freedom, and contentment. The righteous way just made me think of Pauly Shore. Maybe we'll find a new phrase of that before we take on a parenting chat.
I think that's mostly it. I say hesitantly that this pregnancy couldn't be progressing any smoother. That's a good thing. I keep a watchful eye on my blood pressure, as does my doctor, but so far it seems that we don't have a problem yet. By next blog post, I'll be in the prime of my third trimester, and then there's only a blog post after that one before there's a baby in my arms. It's one of those things that it's a long and quick time frame approaching. Just yesterday, Cody paused and said "Holy crap, you're 26 weeks pregnant already." To which I replied, "No, I'm only 26 weeks pregnant." The one without the actual human in his womb sees how quickly it's going, while the one who can't sneeze without running to a toilet knows that another 14 weeks could potentially drag on forever. The good news is that we've hit the holiday season, so I'm hoping that December flies by. January will probably be fairly tolerable for me, because anytime after thirty weeks tends to be when I say "Okay too fast!" So really, the next four weeks will be the hardest ones. Please pray for us as we work hard to balance this new phase in our lives. Some days are easy days, and some days leave us worn down and maybe even a little disheartened. Hashtag Parenthood, am I right? Here's a bump picture from 26 weeks!
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