I have some free time today and thought I would take advantage...hopefully, allow my thoughts to flow on paper as they so often do during the day when I don’t have time to capture them.
P2 is doing well. At our last appointment, P2’s heartbeat was the same as last month’s…147 and holding steady. We are in Week 28, and P2 does not sit still. He/she is not just doing summersaults but is managing an entire gym class in my uterus. I can’t wait to meet him/her; I think P2 is going to give me a run for my money, but I am up for the challenge.

The nursery is all ready. Items that had been removed for a growing toddler have been placed again for a newborn. Are we doing this again? I keep asking myself that. How is it that 2+ years have transpired already? So, the bumpers and mobile are back n the crib and all of the “baby” toys are ready for a new little one. How lucky are we that we get to watch another human being discover the world? Blessed beyond measure; luck has nothing to do with it.

One experience during this pregnancy that I thought was so thrilling was Jason and my snorkeling experience in Playa del Carmen. After a few minutes adjusting my breathing and getting comfortable swimming in the ocean, I settled into a rhythmic kicking and breathing pattern. I was floating above the reefs, felt weightless and calm. I could hear my breath…in….out….in…..out…as I breathed through the snorkel. I could feel the water surrounding me and the occasional warmth of the sun on my back coupled with waves of cooler water. I thought to myself, P2 is with me and he/she must feel this peaceful all of the time in the womb. I felt so connected and was so grateful for a quiet moment with him/ her. Quiet, reflective moments with your unborn child are more challenging to come by when you are caring for a toddler all day. This will always be a special memory for me.

What about Emerson, that sweet little toddler, so full of light?
She is amazing. Her vocabulary is uncountable at this point. I focus on this because truly she is showing more and more of her 'self' these days through her language, and we are just in awe to see our little girl grow up.

Painting Naked
Yesterday on the way to my Mom’s house, I told Emerson where we were going and that I was sure “Gammy” (Grammy) would have something fun and creative for her to do, as usual. Last time Emerson was at Mom’s house, Owen was there too, and Mom took the two of them down to their diapers while outside, and let them finger paint…on themselves and each other! Needless to say, the proud pictures of the two of them dressed head to toe in every color of the rainbow was adorable! So, I reminded Emerson of her outdoor painting adventure…and that was all it took! The rest of the drive, Emerson repeated, “I want to paint naked,” over and over again.
When she saw Grammy, she smiled and waved and yelled, "Hi! I want to paint naked!" There was no way out of it. When I pulled out of Mom’s driveway, my little “naked” Emerson had paint from nose to toe…and well, with no Owen with whom to play, Mom was covered too.
What a little pair they were.

Two Wrists
Last week, I was putting Emerson's hair in a ponytail, per her request. She took the hair-band I was going to use, and placed it on her wrist…she calls them “bracelets” and loves to stack all of her hair-bands on her wrists (and refuses to take them off). So, I got another band out and was ready to use it when she took that one too. I said, “Emerson, you already have a hair-band; I need that one for your ponytail.” She looked at me and said, “I have two wrists.” What do you say to a 22 month old who knows her body parts and how many wrists she has? I could not disputer her logic, so I said, “you’re right; you do.” And I got a third band out and finished her hair. She beamed at herself in the mirror and said “I’m cute.”
“Yes, you are cute but more importantly, you are smart,” I said. And thus begins the battle of every woman…. The battle of looks vs. smarts. I am determined that she will appreciate the power of her intellect, strength of her spirit, and capability of her body more than the image she sees in the mirror or the comments she gets from people about her appearance.

Baby Growing
We have talked again and again with Emerson about how Mommy has a baby growing in her belly.
She loves to lift my shirt up, and put her hands on the sides of my belly while bending over to kiss it. She says, “Baby is growing; kiss the baby!”
Emerson and I were in the grocery store the other day, and she was snacking on Goldfish while sitting in the cart. She looked at me, and said, “feed the baby.” And in the middle of the store, pulled my shirt up and placed a goldfish in my belly-button. She was so proud of herself, and I just said, “thank you so much, Emerson, that is so nice of you to give the baby a snack.” The most funny incident was two nights ago. I was sitting in the living room, and Emerson comes to me, lifts up my shirt, puts her mouth on my belly button and says, "Hi baby, how you doin'?" Hopefully, she will be this sweet when she actually has to share her time with the baby...hmmm....

Thank You God
Every night at bedtime, Emerson gets in her bed, and pulls the sheets over her. Jason and I sit next to her bed, and I read her third book, a book about twinkling stars (Jason reads books one and two). The stars on the page actually light up, so we turn the lights off and read it to her. When we finish reading, we say her prayers. She is so sweet. She puts her hands together and repeats after me, ”Dear God…thank you for Mommy, Daddy; Papa and Grammy; Nana and Grandpa; Erik, Whitney and Owen; and Aimee and Doug. Thank you, God.” She smiles all of the way through the prayer and is the sweetest gift from God I have ever seen. Sometimes she skips ahead of me and will say, “Owen!” before I get to his name. Sometimes, she skips ahead and says “Thank you, God!” before I get to that part, and that is OK; after all, it is her prayer.

And I will conclude with this...I have been teaching Vacation Bible School this week and Emerson has been attending. I picked her up from her class on Monday and her teacher (who knows her well from church childcare) says to me, "I wish we could have a half dozen more of her in our class." Amen.

Dear Jason, You are...

Dear Jason,

One does not expect to find a love letter in a public blog, but I am making an exception.

At the end of my pregnancy with Emerson, I printed all of my "Mommy and Me"blogs and made a book for her, which I keep in "Emerson's box." I plan to do the same for P2, and although, my blogging has been different during my pregnancy with P2 than it was with Emerson, so too am I different, and so too will our new baby be different. One thing I want P2 to know is our love for each other. I believe, my sweet Jason, that the love a husband and wife share spills over into the love you share with your children, and I am thrilled for P2 to understand that you are the best husband and my best friend. Although I thank God for you daily, I don't always tell you, and a recent incident reminded me to never take you for granted. I love you, my sweet, Jason, because...

You are patient.

You are honest.

You are full of light.

You are positive.

You are energetic.

You are careful with your words to me and others.

You are smart.

You are funny.

You are modest.

You are kind.

You are an unconditional lover and friend.

You are the best Daddy.

You are always willing to learn.

You are an expert at letting people be who they are with no judgement.

You are my roof, my walls, and my doors, and yet, you never shut me in or out.

You are my life, and you know me well enough to know that I don't easily give that much credit or control, but with you it's simply second nature because I know the feeling is mutual, and that's why you are the best partner for me.

I love you, my sweet, Jason, and I can't wait to see you be a Daddy again to our second baby.

We are the luckiest couple in so many ways.

Yours, Carol Ann

Spring

Emerson and I were in the backyard last week playing, and I couldn't help but notice that one of my trees was loosing its pretty purple blossoms to tiny little buds that promised me green leaves. Part of me was a little sad to see the purple blossoms go as I have enjoyed their color during the last few weeks. They are brilliant purple, and I loved looking out the window from the kitchen or living room and seeing them share Spring with me. I was thinking about how I would miss the color when I looked down at the ground and noticed that one of my bushes is budding deliciously red flowers. This made me smile. Instantly, my thoughts went to Emerson and P2, and I found a little peace for which I have been looking. You see, my sweet little Emerson is small in size but so big in personality and wit. She is learning so fast, which surprises people when they meet her as she is picking up multiple words every day now, and is speaking in short sentences. She seems to be in a phase in which her first little blossoms are falling away to bud a more mature self. It is truly brilliant to watch and have a hand in, and I thank God that he lent her to me. As I am slowly letting go of her infanthood, I am thankful that I am being given another chance to watch a baby grow into toddlerhood. My P2 is moving every day now inside me, and I can't wait to see what kind of personality and style he/she will have. What color blossoms will P2 share with me? What shape will his/her leaves be?
And so, the Spring is slowly fading but will surely return, and I will learn another lesson about loving and letting go.

"Up, Please"

Emerson is speaking in short sentences these days, and it is just a hoot to hear the ideas she strings together. It makes me wonder if she has been mulling these thoughts for a while now, and finally having the capacity to verbalize must be such a thrilling time for her.

I have been very busy lately. Between my volunteer commitments at church, Junior League, and recently taking on a project with a former boss, I find myself sneaking away to the computer to work when I think Emerson is engrossed in play. She is never too engrossed to notice my absence and to come searching for me. She always knows where to look. I hear little feet running across the kitchen floor and into the office, and my little blondie comes to my side and says, "Up, please." Well, this breaks a mother's heart, doesn't it? I would like to finish what I am doing, because it always seems important at the time. But, how do you say "no" to a 19 month-old who looks at you so sweetly and asks to be picked up and says "please" for that matter? So, now-a-days, I pick her up, and we find Web sites for kids to practice ABCs and animal shapes.

It wasn't always like this, though. A few months ago, our minister at church gave a sermon about priorities, and I really took it to heart. He illustrated his point about making God a priority by telling a story, an interaction, between one of his children and himself. He was busy, as we all are, and whenever he set about preparing a sermon or working on something for the church while at home, his toddler would come to him and put her arms up. At first, he would tell her that he was working on something very important. After doing this several times, he realized that his toddler holding her arms up to be held was more important than what he was doing at the time. That story really stuck with me. When I put my arms out for help from God, he doesn't ignore me or tell me other things are more important. I feel like my role as Emerson's mother is to teach her how to be a productive person, which includes feeling secure and loved. So, now when she asks me if I'll pick her up, I do. Naps and bedtime are when I now get things accomplished....guess who is sleeping?

This brings me to my summer plans. Along the lines of priorities, I realized that I am spending a lot of time doing everything for others and not really having fun with the time I have with my family, or at least not maximizing the fun. I also realized that I am not as in tune with my body and P2, and I want to find more quiet time to cherish this pregnancy and be with Emerson. So, I told my church circle that I am taking a sabbatical from my leadership position. The Junior League goes on summer break in 6 weeks, and the project I was working on is pretty much finished. I think this summer will be about swimming at the pool; gymnastics class for Emerson; playing at the park; and going places that Emerson will love, like the zoo, etc. I am taking Emerson for a long weekend to visit Mom and Dad in Hilton Head while they are there in June, so she can have fun at the beach (She loves to sit on the edge of the water and let the waves crash into and over her). Before all of that though, Jason and I are going to experience each other in Mexico. Too bad I won't be experiencing any margaritas ;-).

So, my motto for this spring and summer comes from a quote I read the other day...
"Once in a while you have to take a break and visit yourself." -Audrey Giorgi

P2

It seems like just yesterday when I was writing my first blog entry for "Baby P." I began that blog just after we got through our Week 12 appointment. And so, to keep with tradition, I am comitting to do the same for P2, whoever he/she may be. We had our 12 week appointment this morning and all is great with me and P2, who has a heartbeat of 165...the same as Emerson. I do not have a "feeling" about the gender, and we do not plan to find out until God is ready to show us P2, so again, lots to look forward to! I also don't believe in the trickeries people use to guess the gender, but I do so love to taunt Jason with them. Since the heartbeat is the same, I couldn't help but tease Jason a bit about having another girl. I truly do not care what gender this child is. I would like a girl b/c I have one, and I think it would be fun to have sisters in our home. On the other hand, I would love a boy b/c I don't have a son, and because from personal experience, there is nothing better than a brother. Either way, I am grateful that Emerson will have a sibling, as she needs someone to give her a run for her money. We'll see.

So, my first sweet experience with my two children happened a couple of weeks ago. Emerson adores watching "The Sound of Music." I recorded the movie when it ran on TV during the holidays, and she just loves watching the singing parts over and over...she is so smart...when the "do-re-me-fa-so-la-ti-do'"song ends, she runs for the remote control so she can play it again. Anyway, she loves to twirl, dance, and giggle to this song, and she loves it when I pick her up, and we dance and twirl together. One night a couple of weeks ago, she and I were singing and dancing, and I realized that it wasn't just she and me. I was dancing with both of my babies, and the most wonderful feeling came over me, and tears welled up in my eyes. I wonder if P2 will like to dance...maybe he or she will like making the music rather than singing and dancing to it. We'll see.

Two Wolves

TWO WOLVES

An elder Cherokee Native American was teaching his grandchildren about life. He said to them, "A fight is going on inside me... it is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you, and inside every other person, too."

They thought about it for a minute and then one child asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"
The old Cherokee simply replied... "The one you feed."

Dining Table

I love that each room of my house claims a special purpose.

Often, I will pour a glass of wine and go into the sitting room to take in the quiet and the perspective that I find there. Other rooms are more functional, like the guest bedroom, which is used when my sweet Jason snores. Or, the office to conduct my family business, write this blog, print pictures, etc. Then, there is the dining room. For years, the dining room and its table and chairs have been used, well, for dining or "buffeting"(no, it's not a word, but it should be).

I have hosted intimate dinners for two and parties for 40+ using that room as a usual suspect. But, lately, it has been transformed into something much different by my little Emerson's imagination and her constant drive to laugh and play.

We were all taking it easy last Saturday, and I think Emerson was a bit restless. At one point, I couldn't see where she was, and I couldn't hear her either, which always means one of two things: one, she is hiding and knows to be still and quiet until I find her; or two, she is doing something she knows she shouldn't and is being still and quiet until I find her. In this case she was hiding, under the dining table.

She loves this "game", and I adore it as well because, once found, she becomes a twinkly-eyed, toddler full of smiles and giggles. Most importantly, she becomes the master of her "fort" in which I am a mere pawn.

Where Emerson can squeeze between chairs and table legs, I can not, so I start by making the game more fair by pulling the chairs back from the table. Then the chase around, under, and between the chairs and table begin, lasting for 15 or 20 minutes and always ending with my laying under the table with her on top of me, both of us in a state of panting and laughter. She is always the first to get up, running away to find her next adventure, and I usually follow her.

This day was different. This day, she left while I remained on the floor under the dining room table, looking up at the construction of it. I began to recall the many times I have detached and replaced the table's leaves. I remembered the food and conversations that this table has held. I smiled thinking of all of the celebrations, and even the many moves this table has made with me. It has certainly served its purpose.

But I couldn't help but think that after nearly ten years of sturdy and predictable work, the best purpose it had served was providing my daughter and me a fort under which we could simply play. No table clothes, or centerpieces, no buffets, or china. Just Emerson and me, still in our pjs at 1:00 in the afternoon, giggling together in our fort like the entire world was ours. And it was.