Party of Four

To new mothers, they all say “sleep when the baby sleeps.” But what do you do when the baby is sleeping, and your 3-year-old baby is wide awake and running around the house playing chase with the dog, seconds from waking your baby baby? That, I’ve quickly learned, is life with two.
Baby Bro is one month old today and already making our noisy, hectic house feel more complete. His little coos, adorable expressions and sleepy snuggles have made me fall in love and it’s not just me. His older brother is absolutely infatuated! Toddler B wants to help whenever and however possible. He hands me clean diapers during changing, comforts him when he starts to cry, and doesn’t want to leave his side. It has made naptime very interesting, if nonexistent.
It hasn’t all been snuggles and cuddles. Toddler B is transitioning from being an only child to sharing the spotlight. Combined with the fact that he’s now officially a “threenager,” it means he’s taken negotiating to a new level. Every time I tell him “no” I catch a glimpse of his future as an attorney. Bringing home a newborn also means transitioning as parents from one potty-trained child who can articulate his every need, to diapering, crying and guessing- is he hungry? Sleepy? Gassy? Thankfully the answers to those questions come more easily the second time around.
We’ve been a family of four for one month now and though it takes a bit of adjustment, it feels as if we were always waiting for Baby Bro to arrive and multiply the happiness in our home.
At one month, Baby Bro likes: sleeping, playing on his play mat, listening to his brother sing songs, being outside, and snuggling.

He dislikes: garlic, we think.

It All Started with a Piece of Cake

When I look back on my labor and delivery with Toddler B, it’s with fond and proud memories. I went into labor on my due date, everything went according to plan and happened very quickly. I had him naturally, with no drugs as I had intended. It was beautiful.

As we ate B’s leftover birthday cake the night before my due date, I thought this labor and delivery would be just that- a piece of cake. I’d done it before, the second was “supposed” to be faster, and I’d felt so great all week I thought I might have a baby by the end of the weekend, but certainly not on my due date. What are the chances?

Then, a plastic plate hit the floor. It was the last piece of birthday cake, and without hesitating or thinking, I dove, nine months pregnant, to save a piece of cake from the dog like I was saving a child from oncoming traffic. I got up from the floor laughing hysterically at myself. Shortly after, I sent this text to my coworker: (pardon the autocorrect)

Funny, right? Well, about 10 minutes later I started feeling very unusual.

It was just past B’s bedtime when the real contractions started, but the pain was all in my lower back. By 1 a.m. they were 2 minutes apart, so we went to the hospital. When we arrived, I was only 2cm dilated so we walked around slowly for an hour, still contracting every 2-3 minutes with nearly unbearable pain in my back. I hadn’t progressed. The triage nurse mentioned that I was “posterior” but she wasn’t concerned because it was early. I was in so much pain I didn’t quite process what she was saying. Turns out, the baby was positioned with his head down, but facing the wrong direction, making it more difficult. It was around 5 a.m. and I still hadn’t progressed at all. I was waking up Drew to help get me through each contraction, which were becoming fewer and farther between but just as painful. I was exhausted and defeated. The nurse gave me a Lortab to ease the pain and sent us home. I spent 5am-8am sleeping between contractions, wondering if I could birth a posterior baby. Luckily, I had a scheduled appointment at 9:30am for my due date, so I knew I could see my midwife and get some answers.

Like a crazy person, I showed up to the office for my regularly-scheduled appointment, only instead of entering the building with some sense of composure, I was crying behind my sunglasses, trying not to make a scene in the waiting room while having contractions. I didn’t wait long because it turns out as soon as the front desk saw me they called a nurse. Everyone seemed more in the know than I was… when the midwife checked me I was 6cm. Time to finally go to labor and delivery! The midwife showed me a few tricks to turn the baby and after traumatizing those poor pregnant women in the waiting room on our way out with my wincing, breathing and moaning, we drove quickly right around the corner to the hospital where we were led straight into a delivery room. It was about 10am.

Contractions were strong and close together, but I still had about a 2-minute break in between and my water still hadn’t broken, which according to most movies and birth stories I’ve heard, meant I had a little time before the baby arrived. So, when I said, “I have to go to the bathroom,” the midwife told me to go ahead, but sit backwards in case I had a contraction so I could lean and breathe through it. Drew followed me and a nurse followed him, putting on her gloves. That’s when it happened- my water- right into the toilet. Not a second later the baby followed- thank God the nurse was there to catch! The midwife and the rest of the nurses ran into the bathroom to assist, shocked at the sudden arrival. For a baby who seemed in no rush to get here, he certainly waited for an opportune time… and location.

Baby Bryce was born at 11:59a.m. weighing 7lbs, 15oz and measuring 20.5 inches. We briefly considered naming him “John.”

The Worst Part of Being a Parent

With just a couple of weeks to go before we meet our exciting new addition, our family is already changing before my eyes. Toddler B will be three in just over a week, and recently I realized the one thing that is truly the worst part of being a parent.

It’s not the sleepless nights, the toddler tantrums, the battles over bedtime or the constant worrying. The worst part is a very different kind of unknown.

Last Thursday, B stopped napping. Usually on weekends he would consistently fall asleep in the car, I’d carry him inside on my shoulder and snuggle on the sofa, snoozing for an hour or two before snack time. He still looks like a baby when he’s asleep. Not just a blur of activity and motion and dirt and noise like he does during every waking hour. He’s safe and warm and comfortable in his mommy’s arms. But last Thursday, he stopped napping.

Maybe he’ll do it again on occasion after a busy day or while battling a cold, but I don’t know when that will be or if it will happen or how many times. I realized… the worst part of parenting is not knowing when it’s the last time, while you’re in the last time.

Someday I will nap with him on the sofa in my arms for the last time. It may have already happened. Someday I will carry him from the car for the last time, or help him use the potty, or put a band-aid on a hurt knee. On all of these occasions I will just go about the task routinely, unaware of the monumental privilege I may never have again. The last time will come and go, only for me to try to remember later when I realize there hasn’t been another.

They don’t tell us. We don’t get a notification. It’s not written down in a book of developmental milestones. There’s no fanfare or celebration or recognition. These moments just pass as part of life.

Soon I’ll be singing happy birthday to my baby boy. And welcoming another life that will be full of last times. Luckily for me we all still have so many firsts to look forward to.

Almost Ready

At 36 weeks, we’re officially a month away from our baby boy. After a pretty rough third trimester riddled with cold virus after cold virus because of my compromised immune system, I’m finally feeling normal again, or at least as normal as one can feel while carrying a bowling ball around in their stomach all day and night. I recently came to an agreement with my baby bump, that he’ll arrive at a time and date convenient with my busy schedule. After all, it’s the least he can do for putting me through all that discomfort.
So far, he’s holding up his end of the bargain as we get ready for his arrival and I wrap up our most important project of the year at work, as well as plan Toddler B’s third birthday party. I still have a few things to check off my list- install the infant car seat, pack a hospital bag, etc. But we recently completed one major transition that was essential for baby’s arrival- B’s big boy bed.

If there’s one pregnancy stereotype that’s true in my case, it’s nesting. I love getting the house ready for a new baby even if it means redesigning a toddler room instead of a nursery. Since we already have what we need for a baby from Toddler B, I was excited to take on the task of painting, planning and assembling everything in his brand new room. Don’t worry, I wore a medical mask while painting and I only lifted half a bed. Despite crazy looks from my

husband for being a little too ambitious for someone in their third trimester, we finished B’s new superhero room just in time for the
new year. He loves his new room and his new bed!

The nursery has been converted back into a true nursery with diapers and all, and is waiting for its new tenant. 
At 36 weeks, baby boy weighs almost 6lbs and should be about 18 inches long (although the kicks in my ribcage indicate he may be as tall as his brother was.)

Santa is Coming to Town

The holiday season can be stressful even when you’re not carrying a bowling ball everywhere while planning for its arrival and chasing his older brother around. Every parent wants to create picture-perfect moments for their children, especially during this time of year. As a parent, you get to see the magic of Christmas come alive again through a child’s eyes. Participating in all of the traditions and activities can be so much fun! It can also be exhausting.
Between shopping, decorating, wrapping, and planning, I signed up for the annual “Breakfast with Santa” event at the community center. My family already had the perfect Christmas photo at the park for our holiday cards. Now, all of my friends were posting adorable Santa photos with their children on Facebook, and this would be a great opportunity to allow Toddler B to sit on his lap, talk about his Christmas list, and smile for a picture I could look back on years from now and admire his adorableness. In the past, our photos looked like this:
I just knew this was our year. With two Christmases under his belt, B would finally be comfortable enough to willingly sit and smile and receive a gift as a reward for his photogenic behavior. The event included breakfast, crafts, cookie-decorating, and or course, a meeting with Santa.
There we were, watching family after family lead their children up to Santa, snap a photo and create that perfect moment- tiny people in tiny sweaters sitting on the big guy’s lap, smiling with joy. Soon, it was our turn. We escorted our toddler to the platform on which Santa was perched. But that’s as far as we got. As we bent down to pick him up, Toddler B wrestled out of our arms, practically tearing off his own shirt in the process. He ran across the room, unable to be convinced or swayed. “No!” he said, with a decisiveness well beyond his two years. He never got close enough to sit on a lap, talk about his Christmas list, or get that pinterest-worthy photo. We calmed him down and sat back at our table and decorated cookies. He had a great time and it didn’t matter that the point of it all had been missed.
In reality, I’m the one who missed the point. If all of this effort was for him to make holiday memories and have fun, what did it matter that I didn’t get to post a perfect photo? On the plus side, I don’t have to worry about him getting kidnapped by a guy in a red suit with a white beard.
Later in the week, we started a new holiday tradition. In lieu of the annual “Santa photo” we’re going to do a letter. I helped him write his first one.  He wants three very specific hot wheels cars from the movie, “Cars.”

Of course the best gift will come 8 weeks later.

Last Trip as a Family of Three

In just three months, our family of three will become a family of four! I am officially in my third trimester and still feeling very well, although it’s getting increasingly difficult to tie my shoes.

Bringing a new addition to the family comes with a few mixed feelings. We are of course ecstatic about our new baby, but juggling an infant and a toddler will have its challenges. Before we add to the chaos, we wanted to take some quality time to enjoy our little family of three. So, we packed up our Highlander and headed to the happiest place on Earth- Disneyland!
Toddler B was beside himself with joy meeting Mickey Mouse, driving a car in the Autotopia ride, seeing the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show live, and so much more! There’s nothing like going to a place like Disney and seeing it through the eyes of a child. The experience was truly magical.  But, we didn’t stop there! Our road trip continued to San Diego, where we met up with B’s Grandmama and Abuelo.
We visited the San Diego Zoo, toured the U.S.S Midway, saw the seals at La Jolla Beach up close, and more! It was so much fun to be able to enjoy a California vacation with B’s grandparents, who got to spend quality time and capture every moment of the adventure. And when traveling with a toddler, it’s always an adventure…
The California coast has been unseasonably warm lately, so while we were at La Jolla Beach, I let B take off his shoes and socks and put his feet in the water and splash around a bit. He was about shin-deep in the water with daddy and I was standing by the shore when all of the sudden he just started removing all of his clothes. ALL of them.
Holding in laughter, I had to convince my naked child to put his pants back on in front of dozens of tourists as he argued that he needed to go swimming. Turns out, two older boys had jumped into the water nearby and when he asked if he could, daddy responded, “you don’t have your swim shorts.” In response, B just did what he thought was practical!
His fun sense of adventure, flexibility, and positive attitude will certainly come in handy when his little brother comes along. 

Familiar Voices

At 24 weeks, I’m still feeling good but looking bigger! The baby weighs a little more than a pound and is kicking up a storm, getting more active and itching for more room each day. He can also hear the sounds and voices around him, which means he will definitely be more than familiar with his chatty older brother when he arrives.
We have been talking to toddler B about his new little brother, and reading stories that we hope will help him adjust to life with a new baby. Aside from his reaction during our gender reveal party, (when we asked him if he was excited about a new brother he yelled, “no!”) he has shown a lot of excitement and interest in the new addition, and he’s definitely noticed my changing belly.

Toddler B has always been talkative, and never at a loss for words. Sometimes he takes me by surprise. One evening, in an attempt to stall during bedtime, he called me into his room and said, “I want to say goodnight to the baby.” He proceeded to touch my belly and tell me babies take nine months to grow, quoting a book we read that night. Overcome by adorableness, I have now been duped into letting him stall whenever he wants, because now he knows he will have success being so sweet.
B showed another surprising side recently when I was trying to decide what to wear to a formal event and all but 2 of my dresses no longer zipped. As I shimmied into a form-fitting but stretchy evening gown, I walked into the bathroom bracing myself for what I was about to see in the mirror when all of the sudden I heard a small voice say, “mommy you look beautiful!” He was beaming, and ran over to give me a hug. I didn’t even need to look in the mirror. I wore the dress.

Unfortunately, not all of B’s observations are so sweet. More like sweet and sour. One day walking home from the park we passed a woman pushing a stroller so I pointed it out and said, “did you see the baby?” B put it together right away. He made me stop and touched my belly and sweetly said, “there’s a baby in there.” My heart melted! For a second…
Then, he walked around to my backside and said, “there’s another baby in there!”

You’ve got to appreciate the naiveté and brutal honesty of a toddler. It keeps you humble.

Oh, Boy!

As I reach the halfway point of my pregnancy, it’s hard not to try to compare it to the first time around, two and a half years ago with Baby B. During my first pregnancy, I felt like I was constantly starving, I craved red meat and hearty meals, I had morning sickness, severe fatigue, and as soon as I could feel him move he never seemed to stop. This time around has been the complete opposite. With very little nausea, relative comfort, cravings of fruits and vegetables, and a baby that seems to be sleeping during most of the day, I was sure that baby had to be different. By different, I assumed a girl.
Then, we saw the ultrasound. We didn’t find out the sex during our appointment and chose to look away while the tech wrote the results down in an envelope so we could keep it a surprise. But, after getting a look at that tiny growing baby, I wasn’t so sure anymore. The next morning we found out Toddler B is getting a little brother!

We are so excited to get to know our baby a little more, and to be halfway to meeting him in person.
We started to brainstorm some names during dinner, but haven’t come up with anything we can agree on yet. When we asked Toddler B what he wanted to name his little brother, he gave a confident and… unique answer: “One-Hundred.” 
Baby “One-Hundred” is about the size of a banana and weighs about 12 oz. He is starting to hear sounds outside the womb, and definitely responds to the world around him. During the anatomy ultrasound, we saw the windup and felt the kick! He did not like getting nudged around by the camera. 

Baby Bautista: Take Two

In just six months, we will be adding a new baby to our family! Toddler B is getting promoted to big brother, and though he’s not entirely sure of what’s going on, over the coming months it will start to be clear that something big is happening. That something big will be my belly… even though right now it’s barely a glimpse of what’s to come:

I’ve heard that every pregnancy is different and that’s definitely true in this case! This time I’m chasing a toddler around. Napping every time I feel fatigued and exhausted is no longer an option, although I’ve taken advantage of B’s naptime. This time around the first trimester nausea was almost non-existent aside from a few bad mornings. The cravings have been completely different. Instead of tacos, red meat and comfort food, I’ve had a hard time resisting any kind of fruit or vegetable. Maybe I’m having a vegetarian?

I’m not going to speak too soon but so far it’s been as easy and pleasant as anyone could hope for. Baby is about the size of an avocado and we have a ways to go before it’s a watermelon, but we are so excited about our growing family!

If Adults Had Toddler Problems

One of my favorite phrases is, “Don’t sweat the small stuff, and it’s all small stuff.” In a toddler’s world, the opposite is definitely true. It’s all big stuff. A few of B’s biggest problems lately had me thinking if the roles were reversed, how would the world operate? If the problems of toddlers weighed on adults, productivity, society, the economy- it’d all go out the window.
An adult would walk into work an hour late and have to explain to their boss, “two of my Golden Grahams were stuck together this morning so I had to spend twenty minutes wailing in agony at the kitchen table until mom poured me a new bowl.”
At lunch, they’d spill food on their shirt and have an absolute meltdown because “My shirt is wet and I don’t want to wear any shirts that don’t have Thomas the Train on them.” Not to mention, it’s pajamas. That they’ve been wearing for nearly 48 hours.
They’d go to the bathroom and later cry inconsolable alligator tears because “mommy flushed my poopy before I could show daddy.”  Yes, that happened. And it was both tragic and hilarious at the same time.
Countries would be torn apart over the concept of having to share toys. Regimes would fall at the notion that a leader should put on his socks. We would sooner go to war than eat a vegetable, and no one would ever sleep because that would require a bedtime.
Isn’t it good we all grow up? Or, what wouldn’t we give for those problems to be the biggest in the world.
B is 2 and a half today, and though his problems may seem small, he is such a big boy. His personality, his energy, and his love are larger than life. He makes us laugh every day, even if it’s the kind of laughter I have to hold in while consoling a boy who just wanted to show daddy his poopie.
At 2.5, B likes: trains, planes, cars, building, running, swimming, snuggling, his cousins and friends, mommy, daddy and max, and most of all, cereal.

He dislikes: bedtime, broccoli, and having to wait.