four weeks

The fourth week of homeboy's life has proven jinxing to be a real thing.

At the beginning of the week we sent Surrey to her grandparents' house for a few nights, (1) because she loves it there and (2) because us parents were itching for a little break, especially with Jeremiah going in to work a couple days. Being that Knox had been so angelic, I anticipated a bit of relaxing and of course a lot of crossing things off the to-do list. Welp, famous last words. Knox has decided to cry and scream for forty-five minutes to an hour before finally settling in for a nap - every time. Previously, we were able to just plop him down - swaddled of course - and it was lights out. Life just got a lot harder. Thankfully, he's still sleeping well between feedings at night. Dang it, jinxed again.

I've also learned the hard way that unlike his sister, being in the car seat and running errands does not lull him to sleep or keep him calm and maintained. Target was a battle ground on Monday morning. What has always been a place of comfort and competency for me became a place of distress and embarrassment. Child didn't stay asleep while in the car seat in the cart and then decided to start screaming mid-trip. I was that woman with the crying baby. Ultimately, I resorted to removing him from the car seat in the coffee aisle (how fitting) and swaying and shushing the crap out of him til he calmed down. At that point I proceeded on to checkout, pushing the loaded down cart with one hand and holding him in the other. 

If it were anyone else, I would have told them to abort mission and head straight home for sanity's sake. Oh but not me. Right next door to Target is Hobby Lobby and you better believe I chose that location because of the strategically placed retail. I had a list, after all. Idiot. Same scenario played out again. Lesson learned - never leave home without the chest carrier and let go of any and all expectations in life.

Needless to say I got back to the car sweating and exhausted and didn't get close to purchasing everything I had came for. Let the good times roll.

In other news, baby boy has had some serious diaper rash issues so Jeremiah took him to the pediatrician today. Upon arrival they noticed he still has semi-yellow eyes and a tan face (as evidenced in the picture) and sent him to get jaundice blood work. I don't even know what that means but hopefully it's all good. And hopefully he starts looking more like his family soon, instead of someone from across the border.

This photo really accentuates his large, tan head and his skinny, pale froggy legs. 

risky business

Feast your eyes upon the crazy wall. It's risky, all of this stuff. 

The new rental has barely any full walls. Sounds funny, but truly they're a hot commodity around here. The bedrooms all lose wall space to bifold closet doors or windows. The living room literally does not have a single full, blank wall. There's a half wall, windows, a kitchen pass-through, and a fireplace. With all of the wall openings, things have the potential to get a bit busy because you're looking at multiple rooms or multiple views at one time. 

Example, this one side of the living room. We're battling a huge doorway to the eat-in kitchen, another substantial kitchen pass-through window, and an adjacent opening/half-wall to the entryway. Also, there's a legit vaulted ceiling, meaning the walls are extra tall.

All the dilemmas - eat-in kitchen view, pass-through window to the ultra retro kitchen, half-wall.

I spy the shed from our old rental, truly right next door.
 

A decorating dilemma to say the least. For awhile there was just the coral chair and the desk with the clipboards. (I love a good clipboard wall hanging. Funky and functional. Hoping to replace these cheap-o ones with legit boards with the chunky clip one day. Oh, one day.) I sit across the room on the sofa the majority of my days staring at this wall. The blankness, while safe, was so blah and stark. It needed some oomph. Like the clipboard thing, I also love a good frame wall. With a lack of wall space I've been brainstorming where I could sneak one into this house. I toyed with the entryway for awhile, but because of some horribly inconvenient air intake vents, we decided we'd try this narrow, tall span of wall. It's decent, but that left the other side feeling ultra bare. I knew I didn't want more frames or rectangular things. And remember, I'm working with what I have. So hello paint chip wreath, I hope you won't look lost on that wall.

View from the front door entryway.

The temptation is to wait and wait until I find something nearly free at a store to put up, or to leave it blank for fear of cluttering the walls, or to just throw something up there and live with it awhile and see. We went with the latter. The Nester's mantra kept playing in the back of my mind. It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful. It has to be us. Safe and blank is not how I want my home to feel. I also don't want it to feel overstimulating, so it's a balancing act. So, we'll see. But for now, this is it. And I really mean for now. That green floor lamp has moved back and forth about twenty times since we've moved. My mind is constantly going and reconfiguring. Whose wouldn't when glued to the sofa feeding a newborn for an hour a pop? Nearly an hour! The agony!

Now, on to updating the pictures in those frames. 

the boy's room

With Surrey away at my in-laws' for a couple nights and Jeremiah counting down his final hours of summer break, we are busting our tails to get as many things squared away in the new place as possible. The first week we moved in we made big time progress, but things have slowed down a bit lot with a newborn and a toddler and no live-in grandparent help. Nevertheless, it's coming along. As you know by now, I'm certifiably insane so I am moving things around every free moment I have. Every time Jeremiah comes in from outside something is rearranged. I mean, really, every single time.

Knox's room was no exception. It took me a long while (this entire month we've been here) to feel settled on furniture placement and decor for the most part. Of course, this entire place is still a work in progress. One huge thing you'll see lacking in every inch of this house is paint. Right now there's flat white paint on every surface (other than those hideous kitchen cabinets). Actually, I'm not sure it's even paint - I think most of the trim is seriously just primer. This painter was clearly over it. 

Here's the view when you walk in the room. We reused the curtains my mom made from our old condo's guest room, which happen to be the same fabric as Surrey's curtains but in a different color scheme. Jeremiah's excited to have a place to display his cherished childhood football cards and some other memorabilia. We've got a loose blue/green theme going on in here, with a few jolts of yellow and orange to keep things interesting. 

Also from the condo's guest room we carried over a bit of a Penn State theme. You Hokie fans aren't the only die-hards around here. The pictures in the frames above the crib are from my brother's old calendars. So vintage, so special, so awesome.

And check these homemade touches out. The trophy figure hooks are killer. I had pinned something similar before I was even pregnant and not too long before Knox was born I consulted my mom about it. You may or may not know that in my high school glory days my summer job was making trophies at my mom's work. Like a boss. I asked her to gank some extra figures from the shop, and of course she went way beyond. Her and my dad went all out and made the whole set of hooks. Da bomb.

As I did for Surrey, I made Knox a little mobile. Sidenote, how in the world is that word supposed to be pronounced? Mo-beel? Mo-bull? Mo-bile? Who knows. Regardless, another pinned inspiration was a mobile with paper airplanes. After a lot of failed attempts, I finally figured out a right size paper and a right way to fold the airplanes. I almost gave up after an entire naptime's worth of trying. I'm so glad I didn't though because ultimately I think it's so cute. Jeremiah asked if I was going to start selling them on etsy (since that's where the inspiration came from) and I said a big fat hail no. Because it may look easy but it was a huge pain. And true to my crafting form, by the end of it I ended up having to throw on some scotch tape to hold things in place. Not perfect, but you can't tell unless you closely inspect. Or unless you read it on a blog. Sheesh.

And to keep things real, here's a work in progress shot of the closet. Because this house has next to no storage, here's my craft chifforobe (apparently it's a technical term) shoved into Knox's closet, doors removed. It holds my sewing machine and all my extra fabrics and craft supplies. A baby's room may not be the logical place to house these things, but it's my only option. At some point I think I'll grab a tension rod and some canvas and make a little curtain for above the chifforobe to hide all the diaper storage. Not pretty.

We're working with what we've got in this house, people. My eyes are always peeled for a good clearance item or bargain to add to our space, but for the most part it is a bunch of me shifting and tweaking things we already have. We're broke. But this guy is none the wiser for it.

three weeks

Baby boy is three weeks old today. He looks so pleased. Perhaps he's pissed because it's only his third weekly photo and I'm already using pink? 

This big guy is weighing in at 9lbs and has already outgrown his newborn size one piece sleepers. His hair is looking very voluminous due to his morning spongebath. And dare I say there's a bit of a wave? I wonder if he'll be inheriting his mother's thick, curly hair. Lord have mercy. He hates every second of getting cleaned except the hair washing. This child loves a nice, soothing shampooing. How could he not? You may my recall my first high school job was as a shampoo assistant - I'm basically a professional. Still so far so good in terms of his demeanor. One hang up I have with him is his tendency to take ONE HOUR minimum to finish a 3oz bottle or to nurse. Get real, kid. Ain't nobody got time for that. Boundaries will be set in the near future.

grace, we meet again

This past February I had the privilege of sharing a little snapshot of my story at a women's gathering at my church. I remember sharing with the room full of hundreds of women that for the first time I really got grace - that God used friends to allow me to experience His grace in a whole new way as I waded through all my marriage muck. Grace used to be such a distant, detached Christian thing for me. People spoke of grace with such conviction and I dismissed it as overly Christiany.  I don't think I ever really used the word, because I didn't get it - but I'm not sure I actually realized I was totally missing something extremely significant.

And for someone who has extreme FOMO (fear of missing out), it's a wonder it took me this long. Because you better believe when you don't get grace, you're really missing out. I thought I knew God, but I didn't. Not that we as humans can ever fully understand and know God this side of heaven, but like we really can't when we choose - voluntarily or involuntarily - to give grace the cold shoulder. I don't think we miss out because God withholds it, I think we miss out because our eyes and hearts aren't aware of what's going on. Humility and grace. When we don't realize how bad off we are, we can't truly accept the crazy incredible love and mercy God throws in our face. Grace is that love and mercy God chooses to give us because he wants us to have it, because he loves us, not because of anything we have done to earn it.

And it's not necessarily our fault that we haven't really and truly experienced grace. In my story, grace showed up when hardship showed up. And of course, sweet Jesus controls it all and is wise in his timing. Let me tell you one way to hop on a one-way train to grace-town. Have a freaking second baby. You guys, I didn't speak like it back at that women's gathering (or, at least I hope I didn't), but I'm realizing that part of me thought I had arrived in the world of grace. Like, I got it so I get it, moving on. This is a recent revelation caused 100% by having a newborn again. I am the absolute worst with a newborn. That was the case with my first child and it's even more dismal now. Because now I have a toddler, I'm more aware of my marriage, I have deeper friendships to maintain, and I'm trying to unpack and settle into a new home. And I have a newborn and me and newborns just don't really jive.

True humility. I'm barely keeping it together and I've never been more aware of my depravity. I'm mourning the loss of what had become so routine with Surrey, mourning the loss of independence that had been established (gosh I didn't realize how good we had it), and mourning the loss of my time with friends. It's been over three weeks since I've initiated much of anything with these ladies. We moved, my mom was in town, my husband is home, there's a new baby. My normal schedule of playdates and group texting about nap boycotts disappeared without me realizing it would. I don't know what the heck my people are doing day in and day out and I don't like it. I cannot keep it all together. I am bad at keeping so many things going simultaneously - the physical, emotional, relational, spiritual, mental. I'm failing as a parent, as a wife, and as a friend. I know it and I feel it and I wish I had the strength or energy to fix it all and shine it up, but I don't. And track record shows until we get this nightmare of a nurser on a schedule, the near future doesn't hold much hope. 

So at this point my marriage should be on the rocks again and I shouldn't have one friend left. Because in this world we are told you've gotta earn it and don't let 'em see you sweat. And people, I'm sweating big time. But guess what. Today on my door step was a package of flowers and treats and the kindest note from a friend. The friend who should have dropped me and my family like a bad habit months ago, but instead she and her own little family continue to love us. Her selfless husband has used the past Fridays he has only had to work half-days to move our heavy stuff or keep my husband company while that dear friend took my child out to have fun and oh she fed her dinner too. Grace. I found a gift on the front seat of my car. Another sweet note, another friend who I haven't loved well in the midst of my stress. Grace. A huge balloon tied to the mailbox for Surrey from her little friend. Grace. Brothers picking up meal tabs. Grace. Meals upon meals upon meals. Grace. Anonymous gifts in the mail. Grace. Unexpected baby gifts from people we've lost touch with or don't keep up with. We wouldn't notice if we never heard from them. Grace. This is love for the sake of loving, not with expectation or need for repayment. This is the way God loves.

The temptation is to feel like a huge fool, a charity case. To feel worthless and stupid and shameful that I still need to be cared for in this way. The temptation is even to isolate and withdraw from these kind people, feeling like too much of a burden. But where does that leave me? Trying to earn the gifts, the care, the friendships. Trying to be deserving. Trying trying trying. It'll never work. It didn't work when my marriage tanked and God is reminding me He still doesn't expect perfection of me with a second baby - or ever. Just because I've experienced grace once, doesn't mean I now have to earn it. That's not grace, that's not God. God's the one who decided He thinks I'm lovely and worthy enough to love and care for because of Jesus, not because of me. Every hour on the hour forever. That's hard truth, but that's freeing truth. 

Praise Jesus for selfless people who serve well. Not only is it good for me to learn receive these gifts, but it's good for me to see people loving Jesus well. It's a good kick in the butt towards maturity in my own faith. Am I actually, tangibly loving people like Jesus or am I too wrapped up in my own little life? Do people see something different in the way I love others? Thank you God that I've got dozens of people around me who radiate something different. More grace for the receiving. Because Lord knows I need it in this season of life. Now let's crack open these delicacies and gear up for another round of nursing. Ponchos, anyone?

weather grieving

Richmond was recently dubbed the happiest city in the country, claiming its people are some of the most contented. Generally, I agree that this city is a great place to live; however, I have one major issue that I've come to realize not one other person shares with me. Except maybe my husband, but verdict's still out on whether he truly shares similar viewpoints or if his life is just easier if he appeases me. Either way.

My issue is the weather. It's atrocious. I mean, it's awful. Or maybe it's not the weather itself, but the weather forecasters. Take for example this weekend. All week the local forecasters were calling for gloomy skies with highs only near 80 and a potential wash-out of a weekend. While everyone else in central Virginia is dreading the weekend outlook, I'm on the edge of my seating waiting for it. You guys, I love a rainy day. In fact, I love a few rainy days. I love cold weather. And snow. I hate being hot and sticky and sweating in a regular bra. The worst. So yes, this northerner - especially with a post-pregnancy body and a nursing baby - was truly looking forward to the change in pace of weather. Saturday morning I excitedly turned on the news to see when the drops would start falling and figure out the prime time to flip on a movie for Surrey. When what to my wondering eyes would appear but a sunny, rainless weekend forecast scrolling across my TV. Surprise surprise, the storm changed its course and now we probably won't get a drop. I've heard this familiar script before. Every other day in the winter it's the same story with snow. I sit with a heavy heart, my eyes darting between the big yellow sun graphic on the screen and my wide-awake daughter already begging me to play animals with her. It's only 6:30am. The agony.

I don't mean to be so dramatic, but it's had to come to this. Several times a year I seriously consider moving back to Pennsylvania. Sure, because my family is there, but a large part of it is the weather. My internal morale would be far higher if I could get a little relief around here. Or maybe just some validation. Hey 8News, 96 and sunny is not a nice day for "lunch outside." Please stop imposing your weather views on me and start reporting the weather objectively. Let's leave it up to the individual to decide if they think a high of 88 in October is a beautiful day or not. Because, in my opinion, it's not. Fall should not be merely a period of days where we can finally wear jeans and not sweat. We should actually feel a bit chilly. Also, why the groans and forlorn looks whenever snow is on the radar? Most Richmonders are so hateful towards snow that forecasters refer to it as the "s word." I'm offended. Stop shaming those of us who enjoy seasonable precipitation.

You guys, I like the sun. I enjoy being outside. What I don't like is unseasonably warm temperatures and the animosity towards weather other than hot and sunny. Like I said, I'm sorry it's come to this. I know intellectually I need to loosen up a bit - let it go or ship out because it is what it is - but head and heart just don't align right now.

This is hysterical. A girl in the small group I lead asked me more about my weather issues a couple months ago. She asked, do you just not like the feel of the sun touching your skin? She was dead serious. This is the impression I'm giving people. It was one of the funniest moments of my life. Even better, that night I was wearing a hat and long sleeves (even though it was hot, because a girl can dream right?) - it truly was like I was shielding myself from the sun. Hilarious. I'm apparently very overdramatic about this. But desperate times call for desperate measures and I feel like it's my duty to make a stand against this strong southern weather favoritism. 

two weeks

Baby boy is two weeks old! Well, technically he was two weeks old on Friday, but who's counting. We've been bracing ourselves for this milestone since this is typically when newborns decide to "wake up"  and show their true colors. I remember thinking life with a baby was a breeze with Surrey - I cleaned like a boss and showered at my leisure. She slept all the time. Then girlfriend came out of her labor-induced two week stupor screaming and didn't let up until she was about three or four months old. I thought I might never make it out alive during those dark, dark days.

Here's where I jinx it. Knox has been far easier in his first couple weeks of life. It's only a couple days post two weeks, but so far so good. He sleeps like a champ - especially at night. I wish that translated into he's sleeping through the night, but it doesn't. He's waking up a couple times to eat, as normal babies do. Oh, babies what's up with that. It might also help if Jeremiah and I didn't stay up until midnight. Idiots. Give me an inch of kids-are-sleeping freedom and I'll take a mile. For real for real. Especially when there is settling in and unpacking still to do. 

Speaking of - I know - I owe the world some creative posts to get up about the new digs. I become so unmotivated after I realize I never took before pictures of a project or a room. I'll get on it though. And I'm sure that will happen right when Jeremiah is due to go back to work, perfect timing.

hello again

Friends, I'm back! Although, life with a newborn affords one no guarantees, so we'll see what regularity comes to look like.

Let's recap.

Friday, July 18 we were given the go-ahead to move into our new rental next door. Turns out this was the one weekend this summer most everyone we know was out of town - or at least that's what they told us when we told them about the move. Hmmm. Either way, we wrangled a few suckers helping hands and began the move. Overwhelming to say the least. We are forever indebted to the friends who came - it was a lot. Saturday, July 19 my mom came to help maintain sanity and she'd stay through our hospital stay. Because yes, Friday, July 25 I was induced and our new baby boy arrived that afternoon. That was horrific, but a story for another time.

So, it's been quite an eventful couple of weeks. We were working our tails off the week between the move and the baby to settle in as much as possible. And then last week we had a fourth person living here so forget every single other thing besides sleep and painful nursing and playing "nanimals" with Surrey all day every day. This is the first afternoon Surrey is napping pretty much since the move (it got so bad we switched the door knob around and locked her in there - but no need to call CPS) and the boy is, too. So here I am. Hello again.

Knox Braddock was born Friday, July 25 @ 2:23pm, coming in at a hefty 8lbs 5 oz and much longer than his sister at 21". He looks exactly like Surrey did though, aside from a darker and more thick head of hair. He championed the hospital, hallelujah; however, hasn't been quite as easy since. He's far more manageable than Surrey was - or else we're far more empowered this time around. Either way, we'll take it. You guys, yesterday we even got to church on time and showered (even Knox got a bath)! I don't think I entered back into public civilization with Surrey until her half birthday.  I don't say this for a pat on the back, I'm just saying it's a whole different ball game with the second. You can't let the sleep deprivation or the post-pregnancy body insecurity in. If for no other reason, you've gotta maintain normalcy for the sake of your poor oldest child. I have to keep telling myself she will be resilient, she won't be traumatized. Right? Thankfully, she is totally in love with the boy and hasn't started a full-fledged rebellion as of yet.

The plan is to snap a weekly photo of Knox for his first year just like we did with Surrey. Two lessons learned though: (1) We needed something to maintain constant in the photos for scale purposes - Surrey took up as much of the frame week one as she did week fifty-two. Hence, the clipboard. Don't fall off your chair from that burst of creativity. (2) Ain't nobody got the cash to buy a new fabric each week so poor second child will be getting random blankets and some fabric from Surrey's and who knows what else. 

And as we part, I'm telling you I jinxed it. Surrey is up already. But hey, at least she can't get out? Jesus take the wheel...