Thankful

Wil and I were hanging out in bed together a few days ago after he put Chase down for the night. Wren was with us, dozing off. He said "I love my life right now. It's everything I ever wanted." Couldn't have said it better myself. There are so much to be grateful and thankful for this year. Exactly a year and 5 days ago, my husband was wheeled into a surgery that would last 10 hours. It was the longest day following an even longer month of home care and pain management waiting for the OR schedule to open up. That WAS hell on earth. The uncertainty of his recovery and our future weighed heavily on our minds, which led us to a few important decisions, like trying for our second baby earlier than we had planned, that brought us here this year. And what difference a year make! Wil is healthy and fully recovered. His back will never be perfect and because of that his career path will change, but it's the kind of change we're happy about. Our family is blessed with yet another healthy, happy, and beautiful girl, whom we're all madly in love with. Chase was made to be the most adoring big sister and I can't be more proud of how she has handled this huge shift in her life. My mother being here to lavish my big girl with all the attention certainly makes the transition that much easier. Chase has Yai to go to whenever she likes and they are just the best of friends. I honestly dread the day we have to drop her off at the airport and already feel a heartbreak coming on for the both of them.

Having a baby and moving within weeks of each other is not exactly ideal, but such is a military life. Wren has made this whole process as easy as possible on us by being the sweetest and calmest baby. She worried me at first because she would rather sleep 4-5 hours at a stretch at night instead of waking up to eat constantly (or in Chase's case, about 23 hours/day). Her pediatrician assured me that she was doing well and putting on weight quite nicely, and that we should thank our lucky star before we went to bed for this perfect little angel. I'm just not accustomed to having a baby who wants to nurse a lot on schedule, sleep soundly on her own in her bassinet, and is generally the most relaxed little creature on earth. We're getting more sleep now than we ever did with Chase when she was 4-5 months old. Both of their personalities in utero have held true since we welcomed our girls into the world. I fought for the name Chase because she felt like a hunter, a go-getter the whole pregnancy, and Wren always felt like a delicate little bird from the beginning. I'm honored and proud to have these two babies call me momma and watch them grow up into wonderfully tough and smart broads with kind and humble hearts, who always strive to better their world.

Have I mentioned that I LOVE being a mother of two?!? It's such an incredible ride. Chase loves her sister so very dearly and is so caring. She constantly wants to hold and kiss Wren and will check on her just about every other minute if her baby is down for a nap in her bassinet. Wil and I put both kids down for a nap today and looked at each other like "now what do we do?" This just seems a little too easy, and therefore a little like some kind of a trick. I'm sure the hard part is coming in a few short weeks, so we should just be more thankful for our free time right now.

Hope your Thanksgiving is bountiful and full of love from friends and family. Ours will undoubtedly be since we'll be introducing my mother to our family Thanksgiving tradition of joining the crowd at a DFAC (Dining Facility for those of you non-military). I'm sure she'll be mortified :).

P.S. One last, but never least, person that I'm most thankful for: an incredible Husband. I've said it numerous times before, there's no one else I would rather go on this crazy journey with. To see Wil hold our babies just melts me into a mushy puddle of love. Thank you, Honey, for letting me dupe you into marrying me! I yoveeee you!

Nuts!

In my head I feel a little like a hamster spinning a wheel, although my body is anything but in motion. I'm sure the only reason I haven't gone into a panic attack about this move yet is because the last trip to the bathroom/kitchen sucks all the energy out of me. We picked up two more luggage this weekend to pack up the clothes that we'll be using for the next two months and have lined them all up in the hallway. So far we'll be traveling with 5 30"+ luggage, 4 carry on's, 2 car seats, 1 double stroller, and 2 giant dog kennels, plus the six of us. I'm not sure how we're going to transport everything and everyone (we could barely fit everything in a German rental van when I first got here--two fewer children ago), but that's another worry for another time. The movers are coming next week and hopefully the baby will be coming this week. My mom is flying in to help out, and no one is more excited about it than Chase. I ask her what she has planned for Yai, and the list she gives me includes things I haven't been able to do with her much like playing tag and chasing pigeons. Makes me a little sad, but I know we'll get over this horribly challenging hump in some kind of fashion.

Not in the same kind of moving news, but I did attempt to induce my own labor by knowingly consuming Taco Bell. I was hoping that it would make me so violently ill, as it always does, that my body will be forced to expel EVERYTHING it's currently holding hostage. No dice. I only gave myself horrible stomachache for 8 hours to add on to the discomfort level. Nice work there, Umer. I have also decided that, since some people view a huge pregnant belly as a form of insensitive comment/cheap shot practice, I am under no obligation to put up a polite front and just "let it roll off my belly." This revelation came to me during this week's unfortunate trip to our BX to buy more stuff for the move.

Me, pushing a cart full of stuff and dragging another luggage behind me and getting stuck behind 3 shopping gal pals and their carts that had no intention of moving after 30 seconds: Excuse me.
Girlfriend #1, who was wider than she was tall and sporting a sassy headband that only made her fat head looked fatter, after looking me up and down a few times: Oh, yeah (barely made room for me to pass).

I didn't made it 5 steps ahead of them and was clearly within an earshot when I heard:

Girlfriend #1 to #2 and #3: Well, she's not THAT fat.

Back in the days before I packed on 40 lbs, I would have taken down the heifer in one fell swoop. I'm less than 2 months out of Germany and can't afford to get banned from the only place nearby that I can buy heaving piles of organizational plastic crap for cheap. Inhale and exhale. Walk on.

After finally tracking down my Husband and Child in a crowd that was as stupid as we were to brave KMCC on a 3-day weekend and feeling an imaginary baby head crowning, I told Wil that I needed to go sit down somewhere STAT. And wouldn't you know it, the only available table I could find was conveniently located in front of a Baskin-Robbins shop. I was too tired to breathe and left the chowing to the other two Stooges. Somehow, I was still an uncomfortable recipient of the glares, stares, and whispers from EVERYONE, and especially from a woman who was sitting a row over and a table behind us. She kept giving me these frightful looks then turned her face in horror to whisper something in very hush hush tone to her husband about every 15 seconds. After about 10 minutes of this I had enough:

Me: Please stop staring. I'm not a freak show.

Her husband thought I was hilarious. The wife? Not so much.

Then a random woman just started yelling at me as I was walking pass her to tell my Husband that he was going to walk home if I had to wait for him 5 more minutes.

Woman, who was about 5 yards away from me: BOY? BOY? BOY?
Me: No. None of your business, but no.

I'm limiting my outings for the next couple of weeks for public safety reasons.

Because He Wants to Die Alone in an Empty House?

Wil had some business to take care of a few days ago in Baumholder, from where we moved nearly two years ago. He called and told me that he was coming home bearing a present. As soon as I saw the wrapping I knew what it was. Our favorite bakery is in Baumholder, and it should give you an idea what kind of valued customers we were when the baker saw Wil's face and asked where he had been all these times. He said she gave an uproarious laughter when he explained that we had moved and that his wife was pregnant again before bagging up a generous portion of my favorite dessert on earth in the most familiar cheerful yellow little wrapper. I must have asked her the name of it in German a million times, but honestly, as soon as I see the thing, all I can hear is angels singing and blowing their trumpets. I've tried this dessert all over Germany and none comes close to the delectable masterpiece from this bakery.

He came home late, and Chase and I had just about finished our dinner. I thought about my weekly weigh-in that was in a few days and an hour of free open bar (read: Halloween candy bowl) the kid and I had earlier, summoned every fiber of strength I had, and graciously thanked my husband before asking him to put it away for tomorrow. My evil Husband grinned. He knew he was going to have a little fun at his wife's expense.

Wil: Chase, this is Momma's present! Would you please take it to her?
Chase, carrying the wrapped tray on both of her open palms: Momma, here's your present! What did Papa bring you, Momma?!?
Wil: It's a dessert!
Chase: May you please share your dessert, Momma? PLEASE?!?
Me: Of course, Honey! Papa can give you a few bites (because I don't want to be in a close physical contact with the thing that has gravitational force of the sun).

A few minutes passed...

Me: Okay, fine, would you please cut me a little sliver of it?
Wil, letting out a mischievous snort: Here, Honey.
Me: Alright, give me another. Oh, forget it, just pass the tray to me.
Chase: Can I please have some more, Momma?
Me: Yes, Honey. You should like this dessert. I had this EVERY DAY when I was pregnant with you.
Chase: I eat this when I was inside of you!
Me: More or less, yes. That's how my butt got really big.
Wil: Well, you haven't had any during this pregnancy and your butt still got really big.

Oh, yes, I ate the whole thing after that. In one sitting. It was as delicious as I remembered.

Overheard

A conversation in the bathroom

Chase: Papa, can you do me a favor?
Wil: Yes, Chase. What is it?
Chase: A big fat favor?
Wil: Ok, Honey, you just have to tell me what it is.
Chase: A. BIG. FAT. FAVOR, PAPA.
Wil: So you want me to do you a big fat favor.
Chase: Yes, Papa, a big fat favor.
Wil, walking out of the bathroom scratching his head: Did you hear your daughter?

We don't say that!

Chase: Momma, we don't say pooppy head, doo-doo, what the hell, damn it,...
Momma: No, Chasey, we don't say those because they are bad words.
Chase: So, we don't say "what the hell" and "damn it" anymore.
Momma: It's great that you know that but I wish you would actually stop repeating it.
Chase: We don't repeat "what the hell" and "damn it"?
Momma: Really, Chasey?

My Husband

Chase: I'm mad!
Momma: I'm sorry about that. Why are you mad exactly?
Chase: I'm very very upset.
Momma: Ok, I'm assuming you are going to tell me why you are upset?
Chase: I NEED my father! I want my husband!
Momma: I'm sorry, Honey. Papa is at work but he'll be home soon though.
Chase: At work? Again?!?

Chase: How are you feeling today, Momma?
Momma: I'm great, thank you! How are you doing?
Chase: I'm good. What are we going to do today, Papa?
Papa: Well, we're having dinner together right now, and we can hang out together after dinner?
Chase with a heaving sigh and a slight eye rolling: Anyways, I guess we're not doing anything then.

My Lame List

-I'm a day shy of 36 weeks, which means I was ready to have this baby a month ago. Exhausted, obnoxiously huge, and especially love it when people just yell at me "you haven't popped yet?!? (as if I'm holding the baby hostage). If I'm out and about with Chase more than 6 hours/day, I get real strong painful contractions all night. Her movements are becoming very creepy to whomever that is talking to me, because it really does look like she's trying to bust out. I have pregnant friends who say that their husbands never get to feel the babies, so I should be thankful that both Chase and Wren keep Wil up all hours of the night kicking and punching him showing their father their personalities. Thankfully, I don't think he's going to be sent across the pond again anytime soon until we leave (although he did come home this week starting a sentence with "next week one of my soldiers has to be escorted..." He has enough wits about him to immediately tell me that another coworker would take over that gig. 3 trips in 3 months is enough).

-Spent all of last weekend sorting through ALL of the kids' clothes we had all over the house, cleaned and repacked them according to sizes in those huge RubberMaid tubs. So far I've got 7 plus a few in smaller containers. Now onto packing my own clothes. It's awfully tricky to pack when we have to live out of suitcases for 2 months (and for me in the ever changing post-baby body, no less). Thankfully, this WILL be the last time I'm pcsing across the ocean with a newborn. Crazy husband seems to think that I might want #3 down the road when I start sending Little Mutt #1 to school. Clearly the man is insane. We're only having as many as we can afford to send to college. Post 9/11 GI bill is sponsoring one and we're the other. That's enough for momma.

-The weather sucks. Overnight lows are already way below the freezing point and it's been dreary for days. Snow is in the forecast 3 nights this week. Tears. This, coupling with having sent off all of my besties back to the States, actually makes saying goodbye to Germany much easier to deal with.

-My Wonder Kid finished potty training herself about a month ago, and she would have done it sooner if I just let her do what she wanted. Momma wasn't jazzed about kneeling in front of public toilets during the first trimester, sorry Chaster. Some of my friends' asked what our secret to super quick and painless potty training was, and to be honest I had very little to do with it. She was ready, and I followed her lead. We never used pull-ups like it was intended though. The whole idea seemed a little crazy to me--"you can pee in this big-girl panties but not the others." Pull ups were only for entertainment, but once we were serious about it, we just stuck with her real little undies. I'm telling you, this kid will go far in life if I just stay out of her way. She's my constant source of amusement and we're thoroughly enjoying the last of our alone time together.

-In the Husband news: Wil's work replacement is here (yay!), although his department is still sadly under staffed (boo!), which continues to make for occasional long days and weekend work but it hasn't been nearly as bad as before the Damn Bike Trip. Speaking of the trip, although I was mighty bitchy about it, I have to admit that I am also very proud that he was able to complete 450 miles on his own in 7 days without any kind of training, getting up and biking on after numerous falls and crashes, and keeping his cool when the rich CA people in their Ferrari's and Bentley's gave him the fingers for being in their lanes. Ride 2 Recovery is such a fantastic program, and if I weren't hugely pregnant and pretty much alone away from friends and families, I would have let him go on all the rides around the country. He got to keep his brand-new and expensive 5-lb road bike and is now contemplating the Soldier Ride once we get situated in our new home stateside.

I gotta go get ready for our Saturday Doughnut run and farmer's market visit. Hope your weekend is equally fattening and blissful!

Chase

Sometimes there's not much else I want to do but to sit and marvel at my darling girl. This year has transformed her from a baby into such a little girl, and there's no amount of "don't blink" warning to prepare me for any of it. She's grown into a funny, sweet, considerate little lady, who's testing out her boundaries and independence every single day. It both breaks my heart and makes my chest puff up a little to hear her say "no, Momma, I can do it all by myself!" Lately the weather has been so wet and dreary, and to couple that with her father being gone on yet another work trip and her BFF's PCSing, it's just been a lot of us hanging around the house together. I used to dread days like these when Chase was a tiny baby, because it felt like the days would never end. Now it feels a lot like I'm hanging out with a really cool friend, who can make me laugh all day--just like her father does. It's also a big plus that she gives spontaneous hugs, kisses, "I yove you, Momma," and still lets me cuddle with her whenever I want.

Yesterday she woke up and asked for her father. I choked up a little before reminding her that he was away again. Her eyes said she remembered, although she kept asking and answering her own questions about him all day. I'm sure he's missing her just as terribly, since the only reason he signed up for a Facebook account after barely 8 hours away from home was to have constant access to new pictures of her I might put up. He was born to father our girls.

Later in the day when Chase was serving me food from her kitchen, she also made a plate for Nadia, her best buddy whom just moved away. I really teared up that time because I knew it was the first, and perhaps the easiest, of many goodbyes coming her way as a military brat. I'm pretty sure she thinks that all of her friends are just moving to the same place we are, and we'll soon have daily playdate just like this past summer.

She seems to know when I'm a little down and need some cheering up. After she woke up from her nap and had her snack on the couch with me, she grabbed my hand, dragged me off the couch, and said "come yook at the tree Momma." She took my hand and led me to my bedroom. From the window there, she stood pointing at a maple tree that was turning beautiful golden color. "The yeaves are falling--they are SO beautiful!" I could never hug her tightly enough.

This evening, perhaps sensing that her mother might never ever let her out of her grip unless she fought for it, she uncharacteristically ventured out to a group of older boys that had been playing around our house all day. "Heyo, I'm Chasey--Dr. Steinhauer. Yook at my pretty birdie necklace and dandelion!" Those 4 boys, who alternated between riding their loud bikes up and down the street and a pick-up game of soccer clearly couldn't care less about a little 2-year-old, who was wearing Hello Kitty rainboots with her pink outfit and trying to get their attention from the sidewalk. Again with the heart break/motherly pride combo. She did everything she knew to do to show them that she was cool, too. Her red little balance bike got one of the boys' attention (or perhaps it was pity?), but she quickly grew tired and settled to sit and cuddle with me while watching them make more noise with bikes and soccer ball. If those kids were girls, she would have been the bell of the ball, but neither one of us meant much to a gang of 7-year-old boys. So I sat next to her and swallowed 20 more hard lumps in my throat. My whole traumatic middle school years flashed before my eye and I was almost mad at those poor boys for not lavishing my baby with all of their attention. Then she happily said "cuddle with me, Momma," and all was right with the world again. I couldn't have birthed a more perfect creature.

Catching Up

Well, I think that was the longest stretch of blog absence yet! I wish I had something momentous to share to compensate for the neglect, but, alas, we were just chucking along as the shortest summer sped past. There were so many places in Europe we wanted to visit, but our pockets were only so deep and Wil could only take so much time off of work (the man had over 90 days of leave that he never used, so, no, he was not at all a workaholic). Plus, you know, there was that matter of the burgeoning bump. Traveling with a 2-year-old proved to be an equal part of fun and challenge. Everything was so new to her that her curiosity and joy became incredibly infectious to both of her jaded parents. I wouldn't have changed a thing.

We spent most of July enjoying the warm weather and the daily company of our friends, who would be pcsing too quickly. Wil was occupied by his unfortunate mission to the States, but the dark cloud and fog that seemed to hang around him quickly lifted once he returned. My girlfriends and I spent every Saturday morning flea market hopping around town, while our husbands got their fair share of time on the green. The kids were in heaven because they had the perfect built-in playgroup nearly everyday and during every cookout/dinner party/birthday bash we had. Everyday Chase woke up asking "where are my kids? What are we doing today, Momma?" It was bliss. Sticky hot, no-A/C, kind of bliss.

August started with us heavy-heartedly sending the first group of our friends back to the States. Being stationed overseas changed our family dynamic. Both Wil and I have been gypsies most of our lives and moving was second nature to us. But this one is different, because everybody who was uprooted here was in the same boat, too. Most family visits are very far and few in between, so our friends become our surrogate brothers, sisters, and aunts and uncles to our kids. I didn't have this kind of support system when we were in NC, and Wil was gone to the desert. Here it really feels like we are making the kind of family we can choose (not that there's anything wrong with the ones we were born into, Parents). See-you-later's were said and tears were shed as I tried to memorize all the babies' chubby rolls and sweetness, because they might be towering over me the next time we bump into each other again. These last 3-4 years have gone by in a flash.

The rest of August was thankfully much more lively. We did the touristy thing with our friends, finally doing the Rhine River Cruise to see all the castles. People come from all over the world to see the thing that we live 40 minutes away from. I'm glad we had our buddies to goof around with all day because after the first 10 castles, the next 20 started to look like giant piles of pretty bricks. Then we packed our bags and headed to Bavaria. There are no words to describe how majestic that place really is. We walked absolutely everywhere and I felt a lot like death lugging around my then-27-week-pregnant body all over town and up Germany's highest point, the Zugspitz. Chase got to splash around in Eibsee, fed the ducks, and even went under for her very first solo water incident. The weather couldn't have been better nor the view more stunning. It's etched in my brain as one of my most memorable trips to date. We came home for a few days to do laundry and for me to nap before heading out again to see Belgium and Amsterdam. Our friends, the Lazares' were kind enough to host us on our way to/back from Brugge. It was amazing! What a charming little town! I logged in the longest walking/picture taking day yet (7 consecutive hours!). Although it felt like we just glided through this UNESCO World Heritage Site at the time, my bones ached as we made our way to the Netherlands the following day. My mother always had odd posters of the tulips and windmills plastered around the house, so it was a must-see for me. Well, disappointing is the first word that came to mind. I was prepared for the windmill village, the wooden shoe factory, and the cheese farm to be rather touristy, but the whole thing was largely underwhelming and not entirely well-kept. I've been spoiled by the Germans and their immaculate attention to every last detail, but we pushed on through Amsterdam. At this point in our lives, I must say that it was a colossal waste of time and energy that we didn't have. Amsterdam is chaos and noise rolled up into a ball of mess, and I spent the first 17 years of my life in the city of 12 million, just to give you some perspective. It was the first city in Europe that I genuinely felt very much disregarded as a pedestrian, and we couldn't find a single garbage can in the 3-block radius. We recognized a lost cause when we saw one, grabbed dinner, and headed out after spending less than 4 hours there. At least we checked it off our list and now know that we'll never have to try to come back again when we're empty nesters.

September has been hectic. I honestly don't remember exactly what went on since the whole month has just been one big blur. After coming back from our vacation, I was informed that I failed my glucose test and had to do a 3-hour one. To make a long story short, the result from that test showed that I was growing resistance to insulin, although I was not quite considered a gestational diabetic yet. I wasn't too concerned about it and just chalked it up to yet another pregnancy crazy. The nurse advised me to immediately get on a diabetic diet and set up an appointment with a dietitian for me the following week. I became very sick the following couple of days. Lethargic, nauseated, fainting spells. Something was not quite right, and I knew it was my blood sugar. I was perfectly fine before the diet started, so I decided to listen to my body and just started eating like I normally did before the crazy week. I skipped occasional sweet treats, which weren't hard to give up, and kept up with the amount of food intake and the fruits, which were the first thing I parted with during my short stint as a diabetic diet follower. And what do you know? I felt immediately better after eating a peach. I learned later during the appointment with the dietitian that my one irregular reading (out of three) that came back during the 3-hour glucose test was actually reading low, which would be consistent with my being boarder-line hypoglycemic all my life. By strictly following the diabetic diet, I was depriving my body of what I needed to function normally, not to mention growing a healthy baby. Do you know how much I look forward to my next appointment with the OB? My midwife, whom I saw on a regular basis, was not available for my last appointment when my result was reviewed, and I had to see a new young doctor, whom I will unfortunately see again next week. Momma got some ass-chewing to do.

Wil has been working like a dog in September. 16-18 hours/day everyday nearly 7 days a week kind of month. It's one thing if he was deployed or gearing up for a big inspection--you would never hear me bitch about it. But this was his new "normal" schedule, because they were operating with less than half the staffing they were supposed to have and there is no relief in sight anytime soon. Then there was another quick trip to the States, and now we have him for a week before he heads out to that damn bike trip, which will forever be known as "the damn bike trip" under my roof. Because of OPSEC, I'm not sharing too much but will as he wraps up the trip. The reason I'm so ticked off about it is because it's not an essential kind of mission. It started out because my husband pondered out loud to his superior that the trip was "feasible" knowing that I would be in the middle of my third trimester while he biked through California FOR FUN. When he came home with the news, I was all "what was feasible about leaving me to volunteer on the damn bike trip when you have hardly seen your daughter and might possibly miss the birth of your baby?" Now the matter is out of his hand and the trip changed from voluntary to "Git R Done!" If you want to see an irate pregnant woman, I will gladly send you an 8"x10" photo of myself for your viewing displeasure. My last two best buds will be heading back to the States during the same time he's gone and I'm scared out of my wits that Wren will make her debut early as I've had more than a few episodes of strong real contractions throughout this pregnancy. If I were a betting woman, I would say this kid won't stay put for much longer. Wil's better be praying hard while he's coasting through the shoreline of California she stays where she needs to be, otherwise he will come home to find all his belongings in the front yard in cardboard boxes and an armed guard post in front of my hospital room.

Last but not least, you may have noticed that I no longer post pictures or videos on our blog. The reason I have yet to make it private is because we have learned that some of our relatives, whom we otherwise have no regular contact, keep up with our lives through this blog. Pics and videos are now on Facebook instead. Anyway, I have to feed Wren before she gets any more mad. Sorry for the disappearing act. I would have promised to do better, but, you know, I'm looking at preparing our house for a transatlantic move and another baby in the next few months. How about we be friends on Facebook? Much easier.