My little mermaid

Last summer there was a little girl at our pool who always wore a Little Mermaid swimsuit, and Taylor was OBSESSED with it. Every time the other kid would walk or swim past her, Miss T would scream out, ARIEL! And when I asked the little girl's mom where she got the suit, she said it was a handmedown from some cousins. Which is typical of any amazing outfit or accessory that you spy on someone else and immediately want for yourself. Oh, THESE earrings? These are just a little something I picked up in Paris. Well, a lot of good that does me.

But this weekend, in my first post-sickness attempt to get both kids out of the house solo, we were browsing through a store in the mall and Taylor started squealing, Mom, Ariel! MOM, ARIEL! MAH-AHM! AIR-EEE-ELL! And there it was. A Little Mermaid swimsuit. And for as much grief as I gave Chris for caving and getting her the Happy Nappy Unicorn earlier in the week, there was no way I couldn't get her that swimsuit.

And she was so excited about her new suit, that we just had to break it in at the pool yesterday.

And she is just getting so brave at the pool, and each time we go she jumps a little further and stays off the steps for longer stretches. And because Luke is always with us, sometimes in his bag and sometimes in my arms, I can't always be in the water for her to jump to. And she has adjusted beautifully.

I am so proud of her. And so is her little brother, who was cheering from the sidelines.

Tangled

I don’t know which is growing faster in our house –

Taylor’s hair,

or Taylor’s attitude.

So leading up to having kids, everyone kept warning me about the Terrible Twos. Well, the Twos came and went with no real damage or emotional scars. In fact, Taylor-the-two-year-old was, for the most part, an absolute delight. But the Threes are turning out to be a bit trying.

And I’m sure a lot of it has to do with the fact the we welcomed little brother Luke into the fam a mere four days after turning the big-3, but I honestly feel like her and I have at least one battle every day. And it’s always over the most unimportant stuff – Eating dinner, getting dressed, picking up the 64 crayons she methodically threw on the floor while I was nursing her brother.

And I know in my heart and mind that she truly is a very good girl, and she gets along so well with other kids. And she still melts my heart and makes me laugh out loud on a daily basis. But someone needs to warn people about the Threes. That’s all I’m saying.

My new favorite accessory

Not only do his cheeks compliment all of my outfits, but the rest of him hides those last ten pregnancy pounds I've been carrying.

Future offensive lineman

Luke had his two-month checkup this past Monday, and no surprise to anyone, he’s still enormous for his age. I guess when you’re born at nearly ten pounds, you have a reputation to withhold, huh? He tipped the scales at 14 pounds-14 ounces, and is stretching 25 inches long. His new stats place him in the 99th-percentile for height and weight of all other two-month old boys. And while he’s bigger than most, he’s definitely cuter than all of them.

Our pediatrician kept remarking about how alert and smiley Luke was. And strong too. He’s got a pretty good force on those kicks and punches, something I remember clearly from when he was still living in my belly. And he totally took his first round of immunizations like a stud, crying at the initial pinch of the needle and then stopping as soon as I picked him up. He’s a tough little big-man. Which I’m sure is a direct result of living with his big sister.

In which I get put on antibiotics and Taylor gets a unicorn

So Monday afternoon I started to feel a bit rundown, which isn’t all that uncommon after coming off a busy Father’s Day weekend and considering the fact that I have been sleeping in three to five hour intervals for the past two months. And then I noticed that my chest was super tender, but chalked it up to getting a Taylor-elbow or running into something. Because I’m a total klutz, and my legs and arms are constantly flailing into objects, resulting in random bruises and scrapes. I’ve never been graceful, and throw in exhaustion and the fact that I’m constantly stepping over and around Taylor and Ruby while holding Luke, I’m bound to always have a few battle-wounds on me.

But then nighttime arrived, and I went from feeling rundown to completely whooped, and I started shaking with the worst body chills I’ve ever had. And my chest went from feeling uncomfortable to having red streaks running across it and being so painful I would scream if any pressure was put on it. And when I looked at Chris and said, I don’t feel very good, he got out the thermometer and took my temperature, which registered at 101-degrees. I was sick and miserable.

And when I finally got out of bed Tuesday morning I felt like I had been hit by a bus. I was so weak I could barely walk up and down the stairs, and my body ached like I had been hit to here and back with a sledgehammer. When I called my doctor’s office and let them know what was going on, they got me right in for an appointment and diagnosed me with Mastitis, which is a bacterial infection prone to mothers who are breastfeeding. And after prescribing me a super-duper antibiotic and telling me to alternate pain meds every three hours, I was sent home to heal and lay on the couch for the rest of the day.

And because Taylor had been cooped up in the house for two days, she had enough pent-up energy to run to the coast and back. Meaning her and I were on completely opposite wavelengths. So Chris came home early and was put directly in charge of exhausting the Princess. And because it was stormy and gross outside, I suggested he take her to the mall. And if you know my husband, you know his deep hatred for shopping. Despises it. Did I ever tell you the story about how he threw a tantrum while we were registering for our wedding? Right there in the middle of Bed Bath & Beyond, Chris spiked a bundle of washcloths to the ground and stormed out of the store because he couldn’t shop one second longer. So sending him and Taylor, the girl who LOVES to shop, to the mall to get out of the house for a few hours was a bit risky. But I didn’t care. I needed to sleep.

And when they got home, Taylor burst through the front door and squealed, MOM! MOM! MOM! and bounded up the stairs into my room to show me what she had suckered her Dad into buying her. A Unicorn Happy Napper, something she had seen many commercials for while watching cartoons and would always jump up and down and scream, I WANT ONE! I NEED A HAPPY NAPPER! And now she had one. And she was beyond thrilled. And Chris was beaming too. And I was all, Huh? I thought you HATED shopping. And he said that when they walked into the As Seen on TV store and she threw her body on top of the unicorn, all he wanted to do was to buy it for her. And the high that was accompanied with getting his precious girl a new treasure was enough to erase the pain of shopping. And I’m sure her squealing and bouncing around him in delight while clinging to her new napping buddy was enough to make the price worth it as well. He even said to me, Brooke, I would have paid $500 for it if I had to. Wrapped. Around. Her. Finger. And once I’m completely healed, I’m totally gonna take him to JCrew and try the Taylor-method of shopping, throwing myself on top of a few sundresses and pair of jeweled flip flops with pure joy and enthusiasm. Let’s see if it works.

Two months old

Today marks Luke's two month birthday, which blows my mind a little bit. Hey, Buddy! Didn't we just bring you home from the hospital?

But just look at him. No way does he resemble a newborn anymore. My son is gigantic, and I can't wait to see his updated stats when we take him to his two-month checkup next week. He's already close to growing out of his three-month clothes, and his belly is getting rounder and rounder with each passing day. And his cheeks! Chubby and delicious. Just like his sister's.

And my absolute favorite thing about this past month is that he is smiling and cooing on demand. He is just such a relaxed, happy baby. And when he sees you coming his way, or if you start playing peek-a-boo or tickling under his chin, he starts swinging his arms and legs, and cracks a smile so big that it takes over his entire baby face. And if you keep entertaining him, he'll start gurgling and cooing and making the most ear-pleasing noises I've ever heard. It's fantastically addicting. And it's the reason my house is a mess and our clothes are all in the hampers, because I could just sit and smile with him for hours.

One person that always bring a smile to his adorable little face is his big sister. I don't know how or why, because whenever she's close to him she's trying to smother him, pinch his cheeks or stick a binky in his mouth, but he thoroughly adores her and all of the attention she gives him.

For the most part, he is sleeping better through the night and waking up only once to nurse. I haven't put him on any sort of a regular nap schedule yet, as he's really good about sleeping in his carseat, his portable-basket and the carrier, so I know he's getting enough rest. But now when he's not sleeping, he gets annoyed just chilling in the swing and wants to interact with us and be held. And while that's nice and wonderful, he always seems to be the most demanding right when we're sitting down for dinner. And he'll cry and he'll cry and he'll cry until one of will pick him up and say, Hey, Luke! What are you? A little baby? And then laugh and be forced to eat the rest of our dinner with one hand.

We also moved him from the sling to the Bjorn this month, and he loves it. His neck is getting stronger and stronger, so I've been facing him outwards if we're out and about while he's awake. But if he starts getting tired, we just flip him around and he'll take a snooze while the rest of us party.

I mean, all-in-all, he's a really, really good baby. The only not-so-good thing has to be his explosive poos. The boy has a knack for pooping through his diaper, his outfit and all over you before you can get up the stairs to his changing table. In fact, the other night Paige and Elliot came over for dinner, and my son welcomed them to our house by pooping all over Paige while she was holding him. Which was funny because she wearing a skirt she had borrowed from me, but we definitely need to work on his manners. And advise all future dinner guests to not wear light colored clothing over to our house.

But major blowouts and soiled clothes aside, this past month with Luke has been awesome. Everyone in our family has transitioned so well to having him join us, that I find myself constantly holding my breath and waiting for the bottom to drop out. I almost feel like it's been a bit TOO easy. And I know that the reason things are going so well is because he's just that wonderful of a baby, and I feel so blessed that he is who he is. Which is a fantastically chilled-out little dude. And I can't wait for the following months and years to come so I can watch his little personality blossom. But I'm in no real hurry. Because right now I'm totally content just watching him smile and kick his little legs. I know how fast this goes, so I'm just going to savor every moment of my little man, and save my chores for when he's a teenager.

Warning: Watching this video may cause a serious toothache

Because it's that sweet.

This morning, as captured by my phone

So I don’t always have my camera handy in order to catch all of Taylor and Luke’s cuteness, but I generally have my phone pretty close by at all times. Because I’m a Words with Friends addict. So not only is my iPhone good at expanding my vocabulary, but it’s also helpful in documenting some of the adorableness that comes with being a new mother-of-two.

Luke is sleeping in longer and longer stretches now, and last night he only got up once to eat. Meaning I was able to sleep from 10.30 until 3.30, and then again from 4.00 until 7.00. Which makes me one happy Mama. And not only did I wake up feeling well rested, but I was then greeted by lots of smiles from my little man. The perfect way to start the day.

And as we were leaving to go to the gym, Taylor walked out the front door and squealed, Mama! Look at all the flowers! As our daylilies decided to burst open overnight.

And luckily Luke was there to hold her fairies while she was smelling all the new blooms.

And after a much-needed, sweat-filled workout, I brought my loves home to enjoy lunch and a before-nap cartoon on the couch.

Ah. It’s going to be a good week.

Summer loving

I know we’re only a week in, but I love summer. No wait, I LOVE summer. L-O-V-E. And as you can gather from last weekend’s pictorial, adding a newborn to our brood hasn’t slowed us down at all. Isn’t it funny how protective and cautious you are with your firstborn? I don’t think we left the house but five times for the first six weeks that Taylor was alive. And in comparison, last Sunday we met up with friends at an outdoor bar, and Luke spent about five hours attached to my chest in the Bjorn as we grilled tasty treats, played beanbags and watched Taylor dig in the dirt. He didn’t really have a choice... If he’s gonna survive in this family, he’s gotta know how to party.

And he’s also doing great at the pool. We’re lucky in that we have a lot of covered, shaded areas surrounding the pool, so he’s able to chill in his basket while Taylor jumps in and out of the water for three to four straight hours. My daughter has turned into quite the fish after a mere week of the pool being open. Her summer makeover is already underway, with her skin turning bronze and her hair getting blonder. She’s a bathing beauty, and instead of blowing the whistle and making her get out to go home and rest, we’ve been forgoing naptime to swim as much as she wants. Yes, that’s right. This strict schedule-following Mama is throwing out the routine this summer. Believe it or not.

And after a few hours of nonstop-swimming action, we pile our exhausted, sunned-selves into the car and make the ten minute drive back home. And it’s a miracle if Taylor’s still awake by the time we leave the parking lot.

And generally Luke is also sleeping or close to it, and so I turn off the radio and any other distractions and drive home in silence. And in that rare, coveted quietness, I thank God for all my blessings. A loving husband, two healthy children, a strong body, a roof over my head and all of our caring and supportive family and friends. I am grateful for this everyday, and sometimes I just need to take a moment of silence, a few deep, uninterrupted breaths and crack a big smile to reflect on how lucky I am. This is going to be our most fantastic summer yet.