Talking about my girl.

Tomorrow my girl turns 1. I distinctly remember the months d.r.a.g.g.i.n.g. by until the big 1 year milestone for my firstborn. How did 4 months pass by me without so much as an anecdote for #2? I remember just hoping my son would make it to a year without dying. Anneliese, that thought hasn't even crossed my mind with you-- not that it shouldn't. Last week you fell into the bath tub, got trapped in the toybox, climbed onto the table, and attempted the stairs while my back was turned--and you've survived.

You started walking at 9 months. You were running at 11 months, and now you are on the brink of turning 1, and I want to freeze you here, just long enough for me to process how OLD you really are, and when you started doing so much stuff. I am not one to say things like "I need to process..." mostly because I don't. Things happen, I react, and then I move on.  But now I want to process. I have two wonderful kids. Jesse cried for 15 minutes today just because you had to take a nap. He adores you, but doesn't quite snup that you are a small girl, and he is a big boy. Today's game was fishing- he would toss you a spatula tied to a string, and when you would giggle and grab it, he would sprint down the hallway with his string, pulling you with him until you crash( letting go was not an option, apparently) These are the games you two play. And I pick my battles.

You love to cuddle your daddy. Yesterday both you and Jesse were clinging to his legs before he left for work, and I had to console two bawling kids that didn't want their pops to go to work that day. It's slightly irritating in the moment (being left with the riffraff of snot and tears to wipe and dry) but while I process this memory, it warms me up to know how much you guys love your daddy.

Sometimes I feel that for every one step ahead, I am 10 steps behind in all things domestic. In those moments where I let feelings of defeat wash over me, and silently pray that I can become a career woman, I make the decision to let everything be, myself included, and I just find a comfy place to lie down and watch you play. It doesn't take long for you to realize I am lying star fish fashion on the shag carpet, an easy target, and I become the make shift trampoline for as long as my ribs can stand it.  And then I have to play--balancing Jesse on my hands, tossing you up in the air off my legs, a regular 'ruff n' tuff routine- and it's hilarious. I mean,  I like a tidy house, and I like to walk on the floor without peeling squashed bananas and soggy cheerios out of my toes, but I also like to play and laugh and enjoy you-- it's good for us.

I wish it was easier to describe just you, Anneliese, like I described Jesse's solitary trek through babyhood, but you have a sibling that is shaping you, and I can't seem to find a lot of stories that involve just you. But you're a quick one. You were quick to be born, quick to sit, walk, and run, and I think behind those beautiful brown, smiley eyes, you've got a quick little brain madly working to figure things out-- most of the time it's working overtime just to figure out your older brother. It's been a quick 12 months, and I can't freeze the time. That's what words are for. I hope I can write down enough of them to capture the little girl from a year ago.

Love you.

Summer Nomads

I have no real excuse to be two months behind with the Anneliese update. My apologies, daughter. Somehow, I was swept up this summer by the call of the cottage, spending more time in the Muskokas in the last month than I have in the last five years combined. Crazy, but I'm not complaining. Somewhere between vacations, our family found time to move cities, and we are nestled back where we started our life as a married couple, in the sweet city of Hamilton. It's familiar, yet different in all the right ways, and it is good to be back.

Anneliese. You are 8 months old and the days of sitting and smiling quietly are long gone. You crawl like the devil's on your heels, you eat steak, you stand alone for 10 seconds at a time, you say 'ah dun' when you finish your bottle, you are weaned, you love Jesse (even when he uses your head as a rock in leap frog) you are feisty and mischievous, and I know I will have my hands full with you as much, if not more, than I already do with your 2 and an almost half year old brother. You cuddle when you're shy, you scream when we leave you in the babysit, you chew on your toes to amuse yourself, and you love to sit at the table with us. You are starting to hate the gruel I feed you when I'm in a hurry, and I'm going to have to plan meals a little better to accommodate you as a 4th person at our table. And that's what I've realized this month. You are not just the baby, but another person in the family with an apparent, delightful personality. You are a smiley thing, and I sense that you may live up to my middle name much more than I tend to. Thank you for that!

My boy. Your laughter is contagious, your joy is robust, and your anger could scare a storm cloud. I don't always know how to keep up with your shifting moods and stubborn behaviour, but most of the time, I enjoy trying.  It feels like you've really grown up this summer. You are now a little boy, doing little boy things, with a sling shot in your back pocket, drinking chocolate milk from a real cup, riding your red and white tricycle, peeing in bushes, making up songs, roaring at your sister, and talking (in your own fashion) to grown ups about things like "dock spiders in heaven" and "waterpalls" and "apple duice". You are a stocky, strong boy with amazing hair. Your aunty Michelle harasses me to cut it, but 1) you hated your last haircut, and 2) it's shockingly blonde and curly and unruly, and that suits you. Jesse, my unruly boy, and Anneliese, my doppleganger, you are such a gift to us. Thank you Lord.

( Trike and slinghot combo- the ultimate toddler; church picnic lion cub)

As mentioned earlier, I have been up North a lot. We had an incredible week with Brian and Ali, and then I went on my own for a weekend with 'the girls' (a group of 9 old University pals ;) and then, to really top it off, we spent a week at Limberlost with the Sikkema clan. We had three cottages to split between all 20 something of us, and it was definitely the highlight of the summer. Dave and Maria joined us from Texas, while Mike and Rachel stayed behind with their newest addition- Susanna Jane Sikkema. My newest niece that looks identical to my youngest nephew. Very cute.  James could only stay a couple nights, and as the sun rose and I rose with it to heat bottles, change sheets and diapers and wet pyjamas, I missed him. And then when the volleyball games, kayak trips, wake boarding and skiing events presented themselves, and I ran back and forth between cottages to check on sleeping babies and hungry toddlers, I missed him more. When Anneliese tore around the place like a squirrel, literally stuffing her cheeks with peanuts and scraps of who knows what, and Jesse screamed for the 50th time for apple duice, "missing" started to feel a lot like "resenting", and that wasn't right. This past week was a timely reminder for me  to grow up a little and take up my mothering responsibilites without feeling sorry for myself.
 I'm still selfish, but being a wife and a mom and a child of God helps with that. Especially when God reminds me, and steers me a little straighter in the course. Thanks for that, too.

And so, with the trip behind us, this next week sees James starting his very first career and my life as a mom starting to get real. James will be establishing rules and routines for his flock of 33 students, and I will most likely have less success in just managing our two, wrestling with the notion of how to bring order out of chaos. Sounds like Andy Crouch has my number. I consider these photos step one in culture making.

A few weeks ago I met up with some friends for a drink down the street, and I remember saying, "I feel like I'm ready for another adventure.." I didn't specify, I didn't dwell on it, I just said it and we moved on. And then one or two nights later, I come home and discover James' searching for flights out West. Music to my ears. We spent 10 fabulous days with our family in B.C, and the adventure itch was fully satisfied. I was a little apprehensive about flying with the kids, and sleeping schedules, and blah blah blah, but there was nothing to worry about. The kids were just fine. I'm discovering that they actually do put complete trust in us, and if I said it was O.K to jump off a cliff, Jesse might just do it. In fact, even if I didn't say it, Jesse might just do it. I was pretty happy to get Jesse to B.C in one piece. A few days before we left he stormed his little quad off of the tennis' court retaining wall (a 3 foot fall) and landed on a rock. Last year, he just ran off it and landed on that same rock. Next year he may try and tackle it with a bike. I'm currently lobbying my dad to remove the rock and replace it with a grass ramp. It's only logical.   When we got to B.C he pulled a couple stunts---jumped from the fourth stair into the invisible arms of who-knows-what and 'landed' it, despite buckling knees; and launched himself out of his swing, mid-swing, although I may have set that example without thinking of my little sheep. A.K.A-  total follower. Other than that, he played it pretty safe, and we kept him in one piece for the flight home.

It was so great to be back. I needed a chance to revise my former perception of the province, and this was the week to do it. Sunny skies, warm weather, clear views, and major beach time. Jamesis not typically a beach guy, but the beaches here come with grass options, and although Jesse and I opt for sand, Anneliese and James are grass people. Win-win.

But the sun and the beach were not the highlight of this trip. Seeing our family again, celebrating Oma's 80th, getting to know my sis-in laws better, seeing James around his brothers, his mom and dad, his new niece-- and especially seeing Jesse bond with his Oma and Opa- that was special. It was so fantastic telling Jesse at 5:30 am to leave us alone and knock on Oma's door instead.  Even more fantastic that mom actually opened the door and changed his diapers for us. Not to mention potty training him! Three cheers for an experienced mom of four boys! It was also so great that everyone was around and wanted to DO things! This made for full days, which I love. We planned our days to match what the kids could handle, so we were usually out the door exploring things early, and home in the afternoon to let the kids crash, and to get in some solid adult time. The adult time was centered around the kiddie pool where we could cool off from both ends- feet in pool, cold beer in hand ;) As dad would say, "Delicious".

We managed to squeak in a few evenings with friends, but we tried to keep those visits (as nice as they were) to a bare minimum. This was family time, and that's what we wanted anyways.
It was neat bringing a brand new person to James and Jesse's home away from home. Anneliese is about the age that Jesse was when we went to Ecuador, which blows my mind because I can't believe how much time has passed since that adventure. Anyways, Anneliese is 6 1/2 months old, has two teeth with a 3rd on the way, and is on the verge of crawling, if not already there. She likes to pull herself up to her tiptoes and watch the world. She doesn't sit in one place long, which reminds me of her brother at that age. Sitting is not a stage- it's a means to crawling, which is a means to standing, and soon, you can't let them out of your sight. So that's where we are at with her. She is still adorable in my books, but that has a lot to do with how much she laughs and smiles, and eats. She's into solids now, and I am not as anal as I was with Jesse about what I introduce and when. So far, her stomach seems to be able to handle it. It was also cool having Elizabeth around to keep our baby girl company. I wish they could grow up together. Maybe Mark and Leah should move.. ;)

Anyways, that's the update. One summer trip has come and gone, but there are two more on the near horizon. Who works anymore, right? ;)

The last few days have been cold ones, and I have descended back into the haze of unwelcome wintry thoughts. My thoughts are these.

1. Baking. I don't want to bake on a summer day. I think my 'not wanting to but doing it anyway' has affected my baking psychologcially. It is not loved, and perhaps because I have failed it, it has failed me. Strike three on the baking front. Rock hard scones, half baked brownies, and chocolate chip bars that somehow turned into a loaf of something. 

2. Shepherds pie. I don't want to eat shepherds pie on a summer day. It won't (and didn't) turn out well for either one of us. 

3. Cross stitching. Someone slap me if they catch me holding a needle and thread when the sun is shining. BUT, the sun has NOT been shining, and I am alarmed at how quickly my mind reverts to the pastimes of the homebound. I refuse to descend lower than the 14 steps it takes to get into our basement. Cross stitching has me treading on the 15th step. 

Yesterday I had to deal with a lot of poop. And by now you should know that I mean this literally. This is a blog that is documenting children. Aside from going through way to much butt cream, the diaper situation wasn't bothering me. But for whatever reason, Jesse's little body decided to take it up a notch, and he sat screaming and writhing on our couch for at least an hour, unable to find words to describe what the heck was the matter. THAT I can't handle. So James attempted a clinic visit, only to return early because it would have been a 2 hour wait and the clinic was closing. On his return (to my parents place) Jesse saw we were having pizza, perked up like a well watered dandelion, and resumed acting like his normal self. Was he faking it? I fear I spent all my psychological babble on scones, and I won't tread those waters here. I'm just happy he's back to normal. 

But, with every rose comes a thorn (unless they don't, in which case you will now discover that I don't know a lot about roses..) but what I'm getting at is that Anneliese took a turn for the worse during the night and was up on the hour coughing like a seal, and again, I can't handle THAT. (You might be wondering at this point, what I CAN handle. Sunshine people. I already mentioned that ) By the time morning came, I was half awake enough to see James heading out the door for work, hear Jesse crying in his bedroom, and see that Anneliese has her head in my armpit and isWIDE awake, but not coughing. Hallelu. 

Some people long to be adults. At this moment, wading through the haze of dream and reality, trying to figure out what cries are coming from where, and why the house is so cold and dark.. the realization of being the only adult in the house is not a good one. You can't just put the pillow over your head and keep sleeping when you are the grown up. One, it would suffocate the baby in my armpit, and two, two year old's don't like that. Jesse came and pulled off my pillow, and it was time to start the day that came out of the night that never seemed to end. (p.s. I think my past tenses have spilled into present progressives and simple presents, and I simply don't care right now. A less tired me would not approve, but at the moment, I'm making a new rule in grammar. Acknowledged errors are permissible, but only when blogging on very little sleep. I'll sign for that.) 

Yes, today was cold, clammy, and poopy. But at least it wasn't as poopy as yesterday, and both my kids were happy as clams, and although James came home cold, he came home early because the machines don't work well in mud, and THAT I can handle. 

Squeeked in the 5 month update.

My little butternut squash is 5 months old, has popped a tooth, gained some weight (17 lbs even) and stayed roughly the same height since our last doc. visit. She is a giggler, and Jesse goes to town trying to get her giggling. His classic 'go to' is to simply say 'jumping'. She invariably starts laughing at this. I think the origin story of this little escapade is that he was jealous of her carefree bounce in the exersaucer and thought he'd try and piss her off by stomping on the thing and making her bounce out of control. This made her laugh REALLY hard. Something beautiful was born that day. Now every morning Jesse just says the word and it works like a charm. 1 point for J-bear. I like seeing my 2 kids play together. It's amazing how Jesse seems to know Anneliese is just little and so he should tone it down a bit when he's dancing near her head, or swinging his hockey stick, or throwing his tractors. It also helps that she adores him, and he LOVES a good reaction.  I know this because he tends to get those out of me, but I'm a little more advanced than Anneliese, and I don't just do "happy". I've got an entire arsenal of reaction to get me through the day, and to keep Jesse on his toes. Still trying to perfect the reaction I typically have to the 3 am cry for apple juice, along with the bursting diaper and wet bed sheets. I'm a little over the top. Back to Anneliese. She just had her needles, so she's been a little off, as in off her naps completely, which is a real bust. Overtired babies are worse than overtired toddlers because they don't have words, and they don't care about T.V. All hope of bribing is lost on the overtired baby. This brings me to overtired moms. I am one. Currently. And although I want to soak up this sound of stillness in my home and use each precious bit of it, my eyelids are drooping, and my words are failing. Time. for. bed.

Anneliese battled her way through the first of (I'm sure) many 24 hour stomach flu's and emerged a little older. Our girl is 4 months, weighs 15.8 pounds, and is cruising in the middle of the stat pack. She recently slept straight through the night, and although that might have been because she was getting sick, I'll still take it.

This spring can be summed up with one word that I don't particularly like. Tease. Just say it. Doesn't sound nice. The word pictures aren't nice either- like when you tease your hair, purposefully knotting the crap out of it for a little bit of volume. Or when you tease your sibling just to get that nasty reaction you find amusing, or when you whip up a pot to go with that scone. You get it. I shouldn't be asking on April 21 if it is winter or spring. The upside is the hyacinths and daffodils are put on hold in the cold snaps, and linger on when they should be flopping to their deaths.  Die already!  Heat instead of hyacinths, please! 

To usher in the heat, I dolled up Anneliese today with one over the top ruffly outfit. Ruffled skirt, shirt, and bonnet. I mean, I really went to town. It's a wonder that I get such a kick out of dressing her up when I typically dread dressing myself. My closet needs a spring pick me up to say the least. I need some ruffle in my life.

I am enjoying the routine that I have settled into in the little town of Jordan. James is currently doing his final placement at Heritage under my old nemesis Huizinga, and I have come to the realization that I have married my 'nemesis'. Jack and James are two peas in a pod, and this somewhat startling realization has enabled me to reassess my old science teacher with a level of maturity that can set aside my hatred of chemistry, and thus my irrational distaste for the man in charge of teaching it to me so long ago. He did not succeed then, James will not succeed now, but at least I can separate subject matter from personality, and THAT'S what matters. Kapeeeesh.

I attend two Bible studies, and though I have heard rumor that people think this is because I can offload my kids in a free babysit, that is not the real reason. I actually like to learn, believe it or not, and I am doing just that at both Immanuel (reading the Lies Women Believe) and at Trinity (in a series called the Truth Project). These hours discussing the Word stimulate and revitalize me. Some girls started meeting up at Port Dalhousie with their babes, and I spent a chunk of my morning walking the Pier, showing Jesse the ducks, and watching the bomb of babies play together in the sand and at the playground. I particularly like that Rach attends, because not only is she my sis-in law, but our boys are tight, and they each visibly light up when they get a chance to hang out, and I find that pretty neat.

I like Jordan Station too. I like walking with my kids down the street. It's an interesting street with a lot of things that catch the eye, and I'm ready for what spring/summer have to offer in terms of its aesthetics. It also holds a lot of my childhood memories because my pal Kris grew up in a house on this very street, and I spent a lot of hours exploring with her.

The biggest blot on the weekly routine is how we spend Sundays. There is no rhyme or reason to our Sunday church attendance, because we have 3 churches to choose from based on convenience, and that's NOT how I foresee our families future Sunday routine. This needs serious ironing out, and soon. As I mentioned before, Jesse is a creature of habit, with a very impressionable little brain, and I'd like him to sense Sunday as a day set apart, and not because it's always a crazy day of flying around. Working on it...
Anyways, overall, the days fly by, and the days are fun. I love our family. I love to read about how to be a good homemaker. I don't always like to implement what I learn because I think I'm kind of lazy, but I aspire to keep trying because I see my role as a mom to be a pretty huge one. A God given one.  A job given specifically to me as a precious gift, and like the recurring statement of all my posts-since-time moves so swiftly, I had better use it well. 

Jesse's 2!

I'm so grateful that God has given us this kid to raise, and love, and teach. It's unbelievable how quickly two years have gone, and I'm running out of 'breathing room' to make those mistakes that I write off as "it doesn't matter yet, because he'll never remember". SOON, he will remember, but in parenting we have learned more than words will allow in this post, or at this hour. For one, I've learned that 11 pm, although not ideal, is the time allotted to me to take up this recreational activity of blogging. The house is quiet, the house is dark. Both are essential. Quiet to think, dark to dismiss the mess I can no longer see, which means I no longer believe it is there :) Anyways, Jesse is a champ. He woke up happy, loved his new red barn handcrafted by loving parents that did not always display that specific attribute while creating it-(it was a stretch) but certainly knew they loved eachother, and thus remained dedicated to their task and their marriage. Building exercises. And he loved it. We had a good day, made a cool cake, and threw a party for him the day after, and now I think he's getting sick. At the moment, despite the hour, he's coughing and crying. I guess I should know by now that those moments I think are 'mine' just aren't. This job continues to be the 24 hour 7 kind of job, so, I'm out. Hope the little guy kicks his cough soon.. I'm about 3 days behind in proper sleep. And still....I type. I'll let pictures do the talking later.   Happy Birthday Jesse. You are so fun, and I love you to bits. And then some :)

Turned the Page to 27

I woke up this morning to Jesse yelling "balloo". I was groggy, but could hear James blowing some up, 2 balloons, to commemorate me turning 27, on March 27. 7 years ago I met James, and for my birthday he dumped a bag of balloons on my head, and made me breakfast. This tradition has been kept alive, or would have been, I'm sure, had there been more than 2 balloons in the house, and had he not had to leave promptly by 7:30 a.m, requiring me to get out of bed and help with the breakfast part. Sticking with the breakfast theme, I received a griddle. I know some women may get stuck up on the fact that their is nothing sexy about a cooking appliance, and I admit, I'm usually one of them. But James did good. I have burned too many pancakes and wasted precious breakfast minutes hovering around my frying pan, which, by the way, can only fit one pancake at a time. So, I like the gift. And it makes a nice grilled cheese.

My mom wanted to know if I was going to do anything for my birthday, which made me think I should, which made me think that meant I had to invite everyone over. And as I thought about making this call, it dawned on me that playing hostess is not my strong suit. Don't get me wrong, I love having an open door policy, and anyone who comes in will find a beverage and something to eat and someone to talk to. Ground rules. But a planned party, for myself? Not my gift. SO, I waited until this morning (around 9) to call up people to come (at 10). I don't expect people to  particularly like these last minute shinanigans, but it is what it is.  Michelle and the kids and mom said they would come for tea at 10, and so I popped in my pie to be ready for 11, which is exactly when they came. One point for me! But minus that point on account of the pie burning anyways and my forgetting then remembering then forgetting to get mom her tea :) But things got fun as the house filled up with my wonderful family- nephews, niece, brothers, dad, mom, and I got showered with undeserved gifts (really, I rarely give birthday gifts anymore, so receiving them IS unexpected). I find that the crazier the house gets (and it doesn't take much in a one bedroom basement apartment) the more enjoyable the atmosphere. Kids under the bed, toys in the coffee, and a lot of giggling = a good time. So, the tea extended into unexpected lunch, and I liked that too.

Our evening was chill, until I thought James might be able to make Anneliese fall asleep by taking her in a car ride to Timmies and picking us up some coffees at 10 pm (it IS role up the rim, you know) . Which he did, but she promptly woke up when she got back home, and the caffeine that is now coursing through my veins and keeping me bright eyed has knocked James unconscious. Anyways, that leaves me awake enough to finish this post. Time to shift the focus.

Anneliese is about 3 1/2 months, and my guess is she's about 14 pounds, give or take. She's a butterball who loves her mom. She is ticklish when she gets changed, and her giggle makes Jesse laugh his little butt off. She spends a lot of time bouncing in her jolly jumper these days, gnawing on her fists and drooling or puking at any given moment, and so to date she's no different from any other baby, except that she's ours. And that's the best part. I get asked a lot if she sleeps through the night, to which I answer 'no', because lately she's been getting up around 2:30 am to eat, but I think the question should be rephrased to "are you sleeping through the night" because then I would answer 'yes'. Figure that one out. Anyways, Anneliese and I are getting enough sleep. Jesse, however, keeps me on my toes by getting strep throat, or pink eye, or the common cold in what appears to be some sort of cycle that is never ending. Please, winter, end already.

A few more things to document, and then I'm done. Anneliese- your nails grow too fast, and they require cutting every other day, which James and I are both hesitant to do since we snipped off the skin on your thumb. Aside from a serious bald patch, I think you will have thick, dark, curly hair one day. Fingers crossed. Your eyes look like they may be turning hazel. Your toes collect more lint than I can fathom, and you let Jesse push you around a lot (not by choice, but your jolly jumper does hang in his doorway, so he's right on that score. You're in his way a lot). But the bottom line is that you are our healthy, beautiful 3 month old, and Jesse, James and I love you like crazy. And truth be told, seeing you at 2:30 am isn't all that bad, especially when I know it won't last forever. The months just keep passing...

And just because I have a hard time leaving out my man Jesse, here he is at 3 months :)

2 months!

My sweet baby girl is 2 months. I would say the typical "time goes so fast", but really, it feels like she should be older. A lot has gone down in her short life. I mean, she was born, we ushered in the in-laws- along with Christmas, and New Year's, and then we got the boot from our previous home, and spent a full night at McMaster before the big move with Anneliese who sprung a fever (or so we thought) and contracted bronchiolitus at 3 weeks old. And during all this, she has kept her cool. I could not have imagined a baby this chill after bearing and rearing my man Jesse. I'm not sure if it's because she's our second, or because she's just that different, but she makes my job easy, and with Jesse, a perpetual ball of energy entering "sponge" phase, she really is a blessing.
Here's the quick 2 month update
I believe you are around 12 pounds-- that's just a guess though. I missed your doc. appt. today, which would have given the official weigh in :)
You have slept 5-8 hour stretches consistently at night-- unlike Jesse, who took half a year to reach those numbers.
You LOVE to cuddle, and I spend most evenings bouncing you on my  belly (you get a kick out of that :) and rocking you to sleep.
You smile at me a lot now.  You definitely like when I'm around, and you like your big brother too. Not to mention, he's a gem around you. You won't find a better helper at finding your soothers and keeping you warm. Although our appartment is a comfortable 20 degrees, Jesse has made it his mission to keep you covered in blankies at all times. It's kind of his thing. (Along with singing, kicking things, scowling, saying 'no way'  'oh my' and ' I pooped' , standing on my hands, asking for juice 30 times a day, helping me with baking, and vacuuming, and laundry-- all to the best of his ability, and craving the great outdoors as much as his mom. This photo gives a snapshot of the kind of fun Jesse has these days. He was pretty proud of this one.

This tangent could become another post, so I digress)

You don't know your daddy so well yet, but his time will come. I'll enjoy our bond while it lasts :) I know you and James are going to be a lot alike, and I'm looking forward to that developing relationship. He's thrilled to have his little girl. :)

You are very observant, your eyes follow me everywhere, and you don't rely on your soother to calm down. You like riding in the car, you rarely cry, and your fussy time is in the evening, but only if you are left alone somewhere. You take a bottle, your hair is dark and getting thick, and you are strong. You are also absolutely adorable. I know I'm biased, but really, it's true.
On that note, I'll wrap up the 2 month update. I'll be due for another one in no time at this rate.

In other news, James took a job in Copetown, and he signed his contract today, which means it's officially official. The Harskamps are heading back to Hamilton. I have mixed feelings about this, because it's been great getting back into my old community. BUT, I sense adventure is just around the corner, and although the physical act of moving can get old, God's unfolding plan doesn't seem to, and that's good enough for me.

The Story- 2^nd time around

30 minutes into Wednesday, Dec. 19—12:30 am "labour" started. It was all new to me, because with Jesse I was induced, and on top of that, I spent the good part of a year mentally blocking that horrific and beautiful event. Anyways, it was a bit uncomfortable, nothing debilitating, so an hour later I popped some Tylenol and thought I should pack my hospital bags, just to be safe, something James’ had been hounding me to do for about 3 weeks. I should have listened, because true to Ree form, I couldn’t find my track pants, and packed a pretty useless assortment of unnecessary things. Then I got on the phone with my pal Kristina, (my makeshift doula) while James' gathered 'data' on his ipad to see if this was the real deal. Any excuse to use Tech is a good excuse for James :) Anyways, after talking for about 30 minutes, she told me I better get my butt to the hospital because contractions 4 minutes apart and lasting 1 minute are a pretty sure sign the baby is coming. This was the cue James’ was waiting for, and Jesse was out the door and tucked in at grandmas before I had a chance to grab my coat. And then, untrue to James’ form, we drove 150 km/h to the hospital. I was impressed, and still quite sure that we would be turned around and told to come back when things actually got serious. Well, that may have been the case, if they hadn’t made us walk outside, around the hospital to get to labour and delivery, only to have to walk back to emerg because the hospital’s front doors were locked. I’m told a lot of women, full term, go jogging around hospitals between contractions to speed things up...

Anyways, we got into the hospital at 2:30 a.m., found a nurse to check me out, and apparently I’m at 6 cm, which means I'm staying put and having a baby. 15 minutes later, I’m at 8. Soon after that, 9 ½… and then BAM. It’s time to get real. The rest of this story is hard to recap, because I couldn’t conceive of labour without an epidural, and I kept expecting it to get way way worse.The fact that I had time to actually breathe between contractions was a small miracle, let alone that I wasn't numb and listless. The  nurse kept saying it was going to be quick, and I kept telling her that I had heard that before, and I wouldn’t let her dupe me with optimistic statements. But then she gave a very unexpected go-ahead to push.  Whaaa?? With Jesse, I waited a day for those instructions, and then proceeded to push for another day (or at least it felt like it). Having been in the hospital for all of 45 minutes, this didn’t compute. 

Well, 4 contractions and 8 minutes later, Dr. Nwebube (called down to catch my baby before he started an emergency C-section) delivered Anneliese Marie into the world, and there we had it. My job was done.  Well, at least the first job of getting her out. This job is sort of ongoing, but I’ll leave that for the next post-- entitled either "Harskamps get evicted", or "Anneliese gets bronchiolitus at 3 weeks old and her parents spend 6 hours in emerg the night before moving day, because 'Harskamps got evicted'"Thoughts?