MadHen's New Room

Now that Henry is one full year old, we thought it was time to change the heading of this blog to actually include him in the family. Ok, you're right. It's been on my list of things to do for about, oh, 11 months. It's a long list, folks. A long, exhausting list.

But alas. Better late than never, and I think it was well worth the wait. Doesn't it look great?! My fabulously talented husband (who still doesn't think he is a graphic artist) created it with the inspiration from a little nickname Mimi has taken to calling the kiddos: MadHen. I like the nickname but I also like the image it conjures -- a slightly crazed mama bird squawking and clucking about. I can really identify with that bird at this time in my life. Not all of the time or even the majority of the time, thank God. But certainly much of the time. At any rate, I love the new graphic and I'm genuinely impressed with Kurt for his artistic eye.

This might be one of my favorite photos ever:

The Olmsted children are nothing if not expressive.

In other news, we moved Henry into Madelyn's room over the weekend. We have been fretting and stewing and plotting about this event for months and finally decided that there was never going to be a good, calm time to move two busy, giggly, easily distractable kiddos into the same room. So we ultimately just did it and didn't think too much about it. It hasn't been without complications, but oh my goodness...the amount of cuteness coming out of that room between 7:15 and about, oh, 9:00 when they finally can't keep their eyes open anymore is worth it all. The first night, Kurt and I kissed them both goodnight, shut their door, and then promptly sat down in the kitchen on the other side of the vent in their room to eavesdrop on their first parent-free sleep-over. Henry, in new surroundings, cried a bit when we left, but our girl Maddie really rose to the occasion. "Oh buddy, they hear you crying, but you'll be ok. I'm here. Do you see me over here? You can't? Ok, how about a back scratch? You have to lay down, Henry. Henry, you have to lay down. Lay down, Buddy. There you go!"

Henry then began chatting back to her "dadadada" over and over again and probably began pointing around the room because at one point she said "that's the humidifier...I don't know what it does but we run it every night." They got the giggles and chatted some more and there was a loud bang at one point. It took a few gentle reminders and about an hour and 45 minutes, but they did it. And they seemed to have a really good time, so that makes a mama's heart happy.

First Haircut

Henry's first haircut! We're having family photos taken tomorrow and, well, it was time regardless. Our boy has a gorgeous head of curly hair. Look at those luscious locks:

But it can get a little, well, Trumpy at times:

So we visited Little Snippers this evening and Finny got the royal treatment -- fancy DVD, truck with a beepy steering wheel, flashy stars hanging from the ceiling, and bubbles. And we got a darling little "first haircut" certificate with his soft baby locks saved for his mama on his first day of college.

Seriously. We are simply smitten with this little boy!

Three + One = Whole

One year ago today at 3:03 p.m. PST, Henry Finn entered the world, thus completing our little Olmsted family unit. I am so grateful that in spite of my exhausted, two-brain-cells-barely-bumping-together Mama forgetfulness, I remember that day so vividly. I remember seeing his face for the first time and thinking "Oh my goodness, he looks just like Madelyn did when she was born!" I remember how my body felt electric at how excited I was to meet my baby boy. I remember how Kurt lovingly and dutifully stayed by my side as they were getting me all put back together, but when I finally "released" him, he practically leaped over to where the nurses were weighing and measuring Henry so he could get a close look at his son. I remember snuggling with him chest-to-chest under a warm blanket in the recovery room and thinking "This, right here, just like this is pure bliss." I remember Madelyn entering the room for the first time and without saying a word walking straight to her new baby brother and quietly, tenderly, maybe a touch cautiously stroking his soft little head -- there were presents given to her but she was so focused on Henry. I remember driving away from the hospital on our way home (on a gorgeous sunny winter day) with TWO babies in the back seat, laughing and saying to Kurt "Look back there! There are two of them!"

This past year has been the fastest one of my life. Someone said to me once "With parenting, the days last forever but the years fly by." So, so true. What a delight it has been to watch Henry grow and change and see expressions emerge on his face and rolls fill out on his thighs and belly and chin. I've loved cheering him on as he learns new things and watching the wonder in his eyes as he takes in his environment (you know, every light in every room he's ever entered or the ginormous fan in the IKEA warehouse...). Every now and then in his profile or maybe a random expression I think I catch a glimpse of the man he will be someday. I'm sure I'll be ready for it when it happens (or at the very least I'm saving money for my future therapy fund), but for right now, I'm so glad I get to nurse my baby to sleep a bit longer and relish in his softness and innocence and dependence. Given that he is literally a part of me, my heart feels like I have always known him, and I am so grateful for every blessed minute of the last 365 days.

Happy Birthday, darling Henry Finn! You are deeply loved, sweet boy...

(Also, welcoming a second dependent into our world has shown us just how profoundly true the whole, "It takes a village..." saying is. I could not be more grateful for our "village" -- our family members and friends who listen and encourage and offer perspective and advice and, when necessary, meals and babysitting and playdates and hand-me-downs... You, too, are deeply loved!)


Henry the bi-ped! He took his first steps about a week ago and is now walking across rooms!

Shatter and Embark

I'm not really into making New Year's resolutions, and yet I find myself secretly, privately doing just that every year. Most of the time, my resolutions are pretty traditional: get in shape, reduce my sugar intake, "don't sweat the small stuff," read through the entire Bible. Perhaps also traditionally, I'm only ever moderately successful with those resolutions, and they significantly peter out around the end of February (e.g. I know Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus REALLY well but not so much anything that comes afterward).

This year I don't have a resolution, per se, but more of a (forgive the expression) "do I have the balls to go after what I really want" kind of decision. Not sure how I present on the outside to all of you, but on the inside, my mind is a flurry of whims and dreams. I see someone's beautiful garden and I think, yes! I want to be a landscape architect! I read a book about farming and I think, hurray! I'm going to milk cows and grow vegetables! I knit a pretty little sweater and I think, perfect! I'll open a knit shop and knit for the rest of my life! Even if I were a cat with the proverbial nine lives, they wouldn't be enough to pack in everything I want to do and experience and accomplish. Thank God I believe in eternity with a new heaven and a new earth -- there will be plenty of time to take care of all of those whims and dreams eventually.

Nevertheless, I'm still living this life here, and even with the promise of eternity, I do believe what we do in this earth matters. I think we are each gifted in a unique way and fulfilled in a unique way and that God delights in seeing us follow our hearts and our talents. The challenge for those of us idealistic dreamers is that we can imagine just about anything. At some point, we have to close our eyes, settle the flurry, and feel which dream pulls at our heart most persistently, most longingly, most excitedly. Not being in your 20's really helps this process. Good grief, I think most of us have Identity ADHD in our 20's, and I'm so glad to be (mostly) through that.

I know without a doubt which dream calls to me when my spirit is most still. (Well there are two, really, but one is more private for my family and does involve vegetables and fresh milk from a cow. That's another story for another time.) I can see it, smell it, hear it and even taste it, but it's like there is this thick piece of glass as far as my eye can see that prevents me from just jumping right into it, and for the life of me I don't know how to break it. I want to. I feel like I've paced anxiously in front of the glass like a caged bobcat at the zoo for years. Enough already.

So. That's my goal for 2012: shatter and embark.

No idea where to go from here.