Friday, October 16, 2009

SEVENTEEN months, already?

The youngest baby in our family turned 17 months old today. This age thing and concept of being the youngest has been a bit trying for me. For most of my childhood, I was the youngest in the circles in which I ran, with my own friends and with my sister's friends. Yes, I followed my sister A LOT when I was young; I looked up to her tremendously. Fast forward. Starting college at 17, I was definitely on the younger side, and this was still the case as I started graduate school. These days? I'm an old fogey in the lot. I mean, students at Denver Seminary talk as if people in their 30's are OLD. Whhhhaaaaatttttttttt? I am NOT old. You take that back. I'm just a few years older than you (then I think and realize in my head, "no, I'm more than two to three years older than those 26-ers"). Shhhhhhh, don't tell anyone. I told people my last birthday that I turned 24 (more like the 1oth anniversary of my 24th birthday). Oh, and, did I mention that I was the baby in my family growing up?

Anyhoo, I am certainly not the baby in the family now. We currently have a three year old and we have a 17 month old. Oh I forgot (in my old, feeble mind). When I started this post, I was talking about how I couldn't believe our youngest child is already 17 months old.

I still remember the commotion and hoo-ha around her birth, with my obstetrician constantly checking the health of the baby, around the time I was due, since I was going for a VBAC (vaginal birth after C-section). When it came time, I was also determined NOT to go to the hospital until Victoria was ready to make her own entrance into the world (I'm pretty convinced a large part of Isabella having to fight to live and survive in the first days of life in the world had to do with being induced; I do not ever want another induction - wish I never had had one). I was due Mother's Day, May 11th, 2008. Who's to say how accurate due dates are?

Anyways, come May 16th, I no longer had any experiential doubts about any differences between Braxton Hicks contractions and labor contractions. Labor contractions aren't uncomfortable, they hurt like #$(%@#!, especially when they come regularly and without much break in between. I had more confirmation that Victoria was head down in the final stretch than ultrasounds; like her sister, she spent a lot of time kicking the crap out of my rib cage and happily so. Unlike my pregnancy with Isabella, I wasn't in that much of a hurry to usher Victoria into the world, except for the fact that if I didn't deliver soon, my ob was threatening a C-section. The day Victoria joined the world will not be a day I will soon forget. OMG, I can't forget it. I certainly wasn't planning on delivering her without any pain management; it's just that I got to the hospital in enough time to pop the baby out, but not soon enough to get an epidural or not soon enough for them to plug me up to an IV ahead of time. Dude, they had to role me onto a gurney and TEAR my clothes off of me.

Here's Victoria. Darling, precious Victoria. I told myself and Troy that if I hadn't seen her come out of me, I wouldn't believe she was mine. When she was first born, she looked nothing like me. And, she looked nothing like Troy. Seriously people. It is NOT the case that all Asians look alike (plus, our daughters are not just Asian). With time and with her growth and development, she is looking more like me. Kind of interesting, Victoria looked nothing like me at birth and now looks more like me. Isabella was a carbon copy of me as a newborn, and now she looks much more like Troy. Go figure. I wonder who they'll resemble when they are all grown.

Hark, who do we have here?


One of my best friends, Christine, has load Isaiah & Belle's costume to Isabella. Actually getting the costume on her was a doosey. Barely fit over her head, and she was unhappy about the initial passing over her head. Once it was on her, however, we had a very happy Elmo-fan camper.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

A nickname I never guessed would be mine in my wildest imagination


I have had a plethora of nicknames - lil, lilliput, tigerlily, lilllian (even though 'lily' is not short for lillian) - just to name a few. Some more recent additions include hon (by my husband and oddly by some of Starbucks baristas) and waterlily. Victoria has given me one, too, besides "ma ma." Nai (pronounced kind of like "nigh"), which means milk, is her favorite way to call for me or call me these days, especially when she wants immediate delivery of milk or comfort directly from the milk truck. Fortunate for her, she can still drink directly from the milk truck. This is fortunate for me, too, since she's been waking up one or twice in the night. This girl's screaming not only escalates, but she can do two octave simultaneous screaming; and there's nothing like giving her some mommy's milk and both of us drifting back to sleep. Anyways, makes me giggle, twirl, and laugh that she calls me "nai" sometimes.

Up close and personal

We had heard so much about the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. It's a mountain literally built into the mountain. More excitingly, we get the opportunity to hand feed the giraffes. We wanted to take Troy's parents there, but that zoo was closed by the time we got to it.

When my college roommate and good friend Karen came for a visit, she was up for going. Whahoo! We headed to Colorado Springs as soon as we swept her up from the airport on September 12th. Those giraffes are definitely friendly for the crackers. Interesting lizard-length tongues.

Precious baby shoes

Family visits are so awesome. We are blessed with family, on both sides, that take such good care of us when they visit. Doesn't seem right. We should be looking out for them, but instead, having babies is like wearing badges inviting sympathy. That's half true. They loved on us long before babies came into the picture. How blessed, blessed we are. Why does family still seem so far away? We moved from Timbuktu (South Texas) closer, but everyone still seems far.

Anyhoo, my parents came within a week or two of when Troy's parents came. My parents brought yummy delicious, organic, home grown vegetables and other assorted goodies. Amongst the other goodies? My baby shoes. That's right, the picture you see above are my baby shoes.

Who are these little girls?

Victoria, I feel, looked NOTHING like me when she was born. And, she looked nothing like her sibling. But now, one can see how Isabella and Victoria are actually siblings. In fact, some strangers have seen them and assumed them to be twins. A bit perplexing, considering the considerable difference in size; but hey, whatever. Oh, and, I think Victoria and her cousin, Juliet (who is 9 days younger than Isabella) bear some semblance.


Like our dear friend, Syd, Victoria does not particularly like being fed. She wants to do big girl things, like feed herself. I still try to sneak spoons full of food into her mouth when she's temporarily distracted, in attempt to keep the mess more minimal. Laugh, go ahead. She ends up massaging whatever she's been eating and touching into her hair (and let appearance not deceive you; she will not wear anything binding her hair for long). Other portions of her food get splattered on to her table, in her bib-trough, and on the floor like paint on a canvas.

As for Isabella, dude, she looks everything like Troy and very little like me these days. No sympathy for me yet? You think she has some resemblance of me in her? She was a carbon copy of me as a newborn. Some day, I'll find a way to scan in one of my newborn pictures, and you can do the comparison yourselves. Right, so she has Asian eyes, but that's about all the resemblance there is. Okay, maybe the nose shape is more mine than his. But STILL. The hair, the complexion, and everything else is Daddy-o's. Okay, seriously, sniffles in a huge, why is she looking so much like a little girl now (and not a toddler anymore)?!


Thursday, October 08, 2009

Learning to share; a moment in history

Sorry the pictures are a bit blurry; still at the mercy of natural light and a camera without a flash. Took these pictures nearly a couple of months before Isabella turned 3. Though she has a sibling with whom she constantly has to struggle to share, I'm not certain share has come any more easily or quicker. But, here is some evidence to the contrary. She not only shared the piano with her little buddy Violet, but she let Violet hold her beloved Henry!


And they're holding hands. Too bad I don't have a clear shot of these two little girls holding hands. I must confess that Isabella's hanging out with a much more extroverted counterpart.