sick sick sick

First the kids were sick (Thursday). Now, my husband is sick (Saturday). I think I’m next. Let’s hope not.

In other news, Lucas has learned all of the following since Tuesday (when we arrived home from Texas):

• climb out of his pack & play (makes bedtime that much more interesting)
• reach the thermostat (which contains mercury, so I just purchased a guard on Amazon earlier today)
• open all the doors in the apartment (except the door to the outside, which has a safety lock on it)
• how to slide our plexiglass bookcase guards up and down (thankfully, he can’t get them all the way up & out)

This kid is way too smart.

sketches of moments

One day Lucas fell asleep while playing.

He had been asleep for awhile, when I went to grab the camera. He promptly woke up after hearing the shutter release, obviously confused.

Then he realized it was me, and flashed me a smile.

He likes being online.

Ruthie likes to draw.

Steve gets to wear a “pretty dress” now (according to Ruthie).

Back to Baltimore

We’ve made it.

Through the snow, through a stay in an overpriced hotel, and through a night where congested kids coughed themselves to sleep.

But we’re here. It’s Christmas. It’s time to relax! I’m with our family, and it’s wonderful.

Nearing the end!

We’re in the home stretch, folks.

It’s finals week! We just finished hosting Ruth’s birthday party. I’m in the midst of finishing up a few freelance projects, taking care of the kids while Steve studies his brains out (a very messy process indeed).

At the end of the week, we’ll head down to Baltimore to visit family and friends, as well as to triple-dunk Lucas in some holy water. We’ve been meaning to do that for awhile now, so, you know, he can be baptized and all.

So, not too much in the way of reflection or other news, except that of the glee and happiness I’m experiencing after having put both kids to bed at the same time. I wonder if it will ever happen again.

A mother can dream.

Home, home, home

I’m back from Texas, and have been for awhile now. I had the strange feeling upon returning home, that I wasn’t truly “home,” but merely on another leg of my travels. It’s taken a week or so of normal life–laundry, dishes, diapers–to shake that feeling, and find contentment in being settled until we visit Baltimore for Christmas.

We’re settled, but not completely. I have mounting anxieties about our finances, about employment, about the loose strings that moving has created. I won’t go into the complicated details, but applying for food stamps and state health benefits has turned into a game of setting up dominoes in just the right positions so that one falls right after another. It feels as though there are 27 steps for each document I need to prove that we are who we say we are, live where we say we live, and need what we say we need.

Experiencing a New England autumn again has made up for this, however. Crisp air and that familiar temperate forest smell evoke powerful childhood memories for me. I’m remembering what it means to layer clothing, and discovering that my wardrobe is sorely lacking in chilly New England essentials. I curse Baltimore for making me a weather wuss.

The kids are very healthy (at the moment), and lucky for us, the dreaded H1N1 vaccine shortage won’t hit home; Ruth has had her first dose, while Steve and I will get ours this week. It’s nice to have a toddler whose nose I don’t need to wipe every ten minutes, and a baby breathing easy and phlegm-free.

Thanksgiving is nigh upon us; Steve’s parents will be up for a visit to get their hit of Ruthie’s energy and Lucas’ baby smiles. Both my brothers will return to Natick, and we will gather around the table like old times, and perhaps even say the family grace with gusto:

God is great, God is good
and we thank him for our food.
By his hands we are fed
we thank him for our daily bread.
Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub!
Yay, God!

(Mom always tried to make us drop that last bit.)

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(See my October family photos, too!)

Nervous Anticipation

I leave for Baltimore today.
It’s going to be strange, returning to the home-that-is-no-longer-my-home. I’m nervous, mostly about leaving my kids for so very long. I won’t see Ruth until we meet in Austin, and Lucas will be away from me for large stretches of the days ahead. I know it’s partly my control-freak tendencies, but also the part of me that wants to cling to something secure and familiar.
People do this all the time, I keep telling myself.
It’s still strange to be caught between worlds. Hopping across the country as though the boundaries and miles didn’t matter is simultaneously reassuring and disconcerting.
But before I embark on my journey, I wanted to share a few highlights. First, Stephen singing at St. George’s in Norwood, MA, with a crowd of other seminarians. Ruth shared books with Lucia, a fellow toddler.

Secondly, an example of Ruth miming what mommy does with a phone and a baby.

And last, an unsuspecting victim.

One Month Down, More to Go

A little over four weeks ago, I flew with my two-week old son to meet Stephen in our new apartment. A new beginning, with new faces to meet and new opportunities to experience.

Although he had worked long and hard to unpack as much as he could, boxes still sat waiting to be unpacked, and many piles lay waiting to be organized. Both of us went through emotional highs and lows as we slowly settled in. Steve’s schedule demanded much of his time, so many days I was left to manage the kids and try to make some semblance of progress. There were a few nights where I went to bed with a smile on my face, happy with the day’s work. Those nights were balanced by others where I cried, because everything felt insurmountable.

But here we are. I hereby pronounce us officially settled in. There are no stray boxes in the apartment, and what few projects remain are finishing touches, like curtains and shelves. The household is humming: laundry, dishes, and baths are taking place. I even made cookies from scratch the other day. And we’re making friends.

Life is taking on its own rhythm, and I’m adapting to life with two little ones. Truly, the transition from no kids to one kid was its own odyssey; I felt run over by a truck, yanked into a world of sleep-deprived breastfeeding limbo. Moving from one to two feels like a juggling act performed in a sea of molasses; everything takes three times as long as I expect. My ambitions for each day have to be scaled back a great deal in order to jive with reality.

I’ve had a laundry list of moving-related things to take care of, and ticking each one off has proved immensely satisfying. The car has Massachusetts plates on it now, and I have my temporary license. Lucas’ birth certificate is on its way. We’ve applied for state health benefits. I’ve found a pediatrician (my own, actually, from when I was a baby). Slowly but surely I feel my feet resting on solid ground.

Truly, it’s a wonderful feeling to be settled in, yet I still feel an undercurrent of nervousness about our finances. Steve’s student schedule is so rigorous he hasn’t had time to work, let alone think about working. My glimpse of his demands is such that I can’t imagine him ever working during the school year. Our hopes are for some seasonal work when the summer hits.

As for me, well, the sudden move to Massachusetts threw a wrench in my photography business; travel plans and profit margins for my October portrait marathon in Baltimore have been completely whacked out. I’m hoping to break even, and wishing even more for an influx of business and bookings. Some form of part-time employment may be in my near future, to keep us afloat.

In spite of that looming obstacle, we’re surviving. Monetary gifts and blessings have come our way from unexpected and familiar places, without which we would sink into being completely broke. (Yet another item on my to-do list: writing thank-yous.)

The short of it is that God is good; it seems as though we’re truly meant to be here. The adjustment has been infinitely easier with my parents close by. Grandma has come to the rescue more times than I can count now, and Ruth has a few new games she’s invented with Grandpa. It’s a beauty and a marvel at how everything has come full circle, as I watch Ruth explore my childhood home, and my parents re-live their experiences raising children.

I can’t wait to see what else is in store for us.

And Then There Were Two

I’m officially a mom of two. I’m outnumbered when alone. There’s one for each of us when Steve is by my side.

I’m also the parent of a willful toddler (but what toddler isn’t willful, really?).

Lucas is–to be horribly cliche–his own person. He’s not at all what I remember Ruthie being like. She clung to me like a burr to a wool sweater. She needed me to co-sleep and nurse her to dreamland every night. She woke me every two hours for the first three months of her life.

In the past two nights (I’ll say it though I don’t want to jinx it), Lucas has let me sleep for 5 hour chunks of time. FIVE HOURS, I tell you. And he readily sleeps by himself in the baby swing. It’s utterly astounding.

He’s a hungry kid; during the day he’ll nurse every 2-3 hours. Every now and again cry to be held. Since he’s a boy, I’ve had to look out for the pee fountain at diaper changes. Boy, does he like to fill his pants, too.

He’s a big kid; nearly two pounds larger than Ruth at birth (5lbs 12oz vs. 7lbs 8oz), and just a few days ago weighed in at 8lbs 3oz–already gaining weight in the first week.

We gave him his first bath yesterday. He is one week old.

…

Ruth seems okay with him being around. She’s fascinated. She won’t leave him alone. She likes to put toys and extra binkies in his swing with him. She likes to shake the swing to rock him (which we discourage, of course), and tries to sit in the swing like he does when he’s not there (which we also discourage, since she’ll break it). She asks to hold him. She tries to pick him up herself.

But she’s also started throwing tantrums, and had a few tough nights going to bed. She’s a good girl, very obedient, and normally a dream at bedtime and naptime. We’ve had consistency, living at Steve’s parents’ house. In about a week we’ll throw all that consistency out the window and fly to Boston. Hopefully she won’t be too disoriented.

She’s going to really miss her grandparents, Papa and Mamou. I’m going to miss them, too, because watching her play and engage with them is one of my favorite things to do.

…

Soon, I’ll write his birth story, as well as a general reflection on all the crazy stuff that’s happened to us since July.

P.S. See more photos of Lucas here.

Meet the Little One

We’re calling him Tapeworm until we pick a name.

It’s not the perfect profile, but it’ll do, it’ll do. We think he has a Mathewes nose for sure.

New Faces to Come

Brief administrative announcement, here.

We have a new member of the family coming, which means that this blog will no longer be just about Ruthie, but about our entire family and goings-on. Stay tuned for site modifications, photo updates, and more!