The Haps

A few recent photos:

Reading to Bitty Baby. Madelyn has really discovered her dolls lately and loves to be "a good Mama" to them. I love that they are sitting under her umbrella. Not sure what the catalyst for that decision was, but my sister and I used to do that with our baby brother when we were little. We'd get the huge family umbrella and camp out underneath it with blankets and pillows and stuffies...and Kristopher, of course!

This is Madelyn's (and mine!) favorite little spot in the house. It's the rocking chair that used to be in the kids' room when it could fit in there and is super duper cozy. When the sun in shining, there is no better place to curl up, read a book, or watch a little TV (like Maddie does every morning while Henry takes his morning nap). If you look really closely, she looks quite lanky in this photo, too. Our girl looks like a newborn foal these days -- long limbs with knobby knees and elbows. But she is coordinated and strong and is typically the fastest kid on the playground. Track, perhaps?

Linus! Henry carries his blanket around wherever he goes, often in his mouth like a puppy dog as in this photo. He has also developed an inexplicable and sudden attachment to a stuffed polar bear that was given to him by Uncle Kris and his girlfriend Laura. One morning, he refused to nurse until I handed him the bear, and since then, it has joined BeeBee as a security item that has to go with him everywhere. So random! Maybe he just has a thing for polar bears, though, because the picture of the polar bear in one of our books is one of his favorites and gets by far the most enthusiastic "Dee dee dee dee's" when we read it.

I just love Henry's eyes in this photo. Babies can just peer into you, can't they? I would love to know what he's thinking...

Dexter! Kelsie and Ben got a dog a few weeks ago (a French Bulldog) and named him Dexter. "Deedee" for "doggie" is officially Henry's first word. He babbles in a variety of sounds and inflections constantly, but this is the first word that he has consistently and nearly-correctly assigned to an actual object. I think that's adorable. My kids adore Dexter (and all of the dogs in our life, really). So far they have been pretty gentle with him, and they think it's hilarious when he licks them and surprises them with a smooch on the lips.

Also, I love Madelyn's hair in this photo. She wants to grow out her hair so she can do fancy things with it like some of the girls in her class, so we've been putting it in piggies and barrettes quite a bit lately given that it's pretty scraggly. With her hair pulled back from her face she looks so delicate to me all of a sudden. So grown up.

The BEST. These are my happy kiddos first thing in the morning during "Maddie/Henry" time. Madelyn likes to be the first person to greet Henry in the morning, and then the two of them like to play together -- without Mommy and Daddy -- for 15 or 20 minutes. I love to listen to them giggle and talk with each other, and I'm always amazed at how nurturing and attentive Madelyn is when there isn't anyone else around to do it. Our days start crazy early at about 5:45, but at least they start off this way...

Hmm, what else?

Henry is learning new things so fast it's amazing. I remember feeling this way when Madelyn was this age -- like I was watching brain cells divide and learn to talk to each other. He consistently signs "all done," "more," "water," and "milk" and we're working very hard on "help" as he's solidly entered the "scream when I get frustrated" stage. He knows his nose and toes and loves to help put his socks and shoes on his feet. He's really into making sounds lately and can do a duck (so he can quack for Ducks' games!), a monkey, a doggie, and just recently a rooster. He will vroom like a car and push a toy car on the floor or up your arm (like Daddy does to him when he's getting his diaper changed). But his recent obsession is the vacuum. I was doing some serious Spring cleaning last weekend and had the vacuum out for several days, and he only wanted to be over by it, touching all of it's miraculous parts and saying "vvvvv" reverently. I'm on the hunt for a toy vacuum for him as I think he would totally get a kick out of that. Our boy has also (finally!!!) discovered the joy of books. He actually goes to his book shelf on his own accord, picks a book, and brings it over to us to read it to him. Sigh.

Madelyn is our resident artist these days. Our girl is still busy and loves to run and be wild, but she can also routinely be found sitting at the table drawing or painting or doing stickers for hours. She has an unbelievable memory that gets Kurt and me in trouble all the time. She's set to start ballet at the beginning of April and she's super excited. It's the only thing she consistently says she wants to do, so we'll see. We get to pick out an actual leotard, tights, and slippers, so I'm kind of excited about that.

We're good. We hope you are too.

Choosing to Bloom

"Bloom Where You Are Planted." I"m pretty sure I saw that needle-pointed on a pillow somewhere...or maybe sketched in bright happy colors by Mary Englebright? Regardless, it's become my mantra lately as I've had a nasty, embarrassing case of the "envies" lately, and I'm trying really hard to get rid of it. Contentment does not come naturally or easily for me. Perhaps it's what makes me creative and driven, but it also prevents me from feeling present and happy and grateful much of the time. I don't like that about myself, and I'm trying to change it.

My brain has been ridiculously preoccupied lately with creating the "perfect" home for my family. You know: three bedroom, two bathroom house on a quiet, tree-lined street with just enough land for a big garden and some room for the kids to run. Playroom. Lots of windows to let in the natural light. A table big enough to host a holiday meal. Vintage/farmhouse decor with just enough modern flair thrown in to make my husband feel like his taste is reflected, too. Good school district. Walkability to parks, groceries, coffee shops, a library. Friendly neighbors.

I've spent a lot of time creating this "perfect" home in my mind and imagining all the ways it would benefit my family. My kids would sleep better if they had their own rooms. I would sleep better if there wasn't so much road noise. We could grow so much more food and save more food if we had more land. The list goes on and on. And then I start to get even more myopic and think things like, "I'm 33 and I've never picked out my own couch." "I would feel so much less anxiety if I saw actual trees out my front window instead of power lines and a busy street." "

It's embarrassing. I can't believe I'm admitting all of this.

Someday, I really do hope to have a home on a quiet(er) street with a few more trees and a bit more land. My girl and my boy will eventually need separate rooms, and I sure hope I get to pick out my own couch before I'm 40. But all of that isn't going to create unity and warmth and tenderness in my family. It's not going to teach my children about Jesus or how to be kind to others or foster their creativity. This is their home whether there is the perfect vintage/farmhouse/modern decor or not, and maybe spending the first waking minutes of each day giggling with your only sibling is more valuable in the long run than getting the best possible night's sleep.

The thing is: we are solidly planted in our little home here in North Portland. The economy being what it is, we cannot sell our home anytime in the near future. But lately, I have started to feel this not as a claustrophobic limitation but as a blessing. I know that neighbor Kristin opens her curtains every morning just as insanely early as I do. Neighbor Chuck picks up lattes every single morning, and his girlfriend Cynthia watered my tomatoes last year when I was too exhausted to remember to do it myself. Nolan (4) and Madeline (2) live to the right of us and Lavi (5) and Mayim (2) live to the left of us. Pam across the street put out a second lit angel at Christmas because Maddie told her how much she liked the original one. We borrow and lend tools regularly with neighbor Shane and neighbor Aaron. I've given a few hand-me-down baby things (and some Christmas sticky buns) to the very young couple across the street with their first baby. This kind of familiarity takes time to build, and I now see that the possibilities for service and friendship here in our little patch of Portland are unlimited.

Furthermore, the park behind our house (which is already pretty great) is getting a massive makeover this spring/summer to make it an inclusive space for children of all abilities. The elementary school behind the park is one of the few in our public school district that is actually thriving. My sister and her husband are house-hunting in our neighborhood, and -- icing on the cake -- we just learned that our beloved church, Mosaic, is launching Mosaic North Portland sometime in the near future.

Deep, lovely, nutrient seeking roots, and I can't wait to experience the garden full of blooms they will surely produce...

Truth

We were up at 5:15 both Saturday and Sunday morning this past weekend. Actually, we've been up around that time every morning for the last week or two, but Saturday morning felt particularly rough because Kurt and I evidently forgot we had children Friday night and had a mini Friday Night Lights marathon until 11:30. I know. Not smart, but those of you who have ever watched that show totally get why we just couldn't stop watching...Tim Riggins, you long haired, cowboy boot wearing, sexy drawling bad boy gone good...(that might not be the reason Kurt likes the show...or maybe it is).

Henry is the cutest little boy my eyes have ever seen, and I could expound in minute detail about all the little adorable things he does (the most recent being carrying his blanket around -- Linus style -- everywhere he goes, often in his mouth like a little puppy dog). But our darling boy, at nearly 13 months old, has yet to sleep through the night. He has made it the whole night a handful of times since he was about 7 months old, but globally speaking, he is still not sleeping through the night. I know he's not hungry because even when I offer, he eats for 3 minutes, gets distracted, and then lays awake chatting or crying for the rest of what's left of the night. I think his body is just so used to waking up in the middle of the night that it's going to take awhile for it to learn otherwise. We are helping him learn the valuable skill of sleeping by not giving him any stimuli or attention until 6:30 at the earliest when it's acceptable for him to wake up. But we all toss and turn and lay awake listening to him fuss and cry, watching our clocks count down one sleepless minute after another.

My brain gets this and accepts that this is simply the stage we are in right now. It's a season, and we are certainly in good, sleep deprived company.

But in the spirit of showing a little "behind the scenes" footage and not always the "highlights" reel, there are moments when I really don't like being a parent. I know we're not supposed to ever say that, and hopefully someday when my children read these posts they will feel secure enough in my love for them that they understand it's not even remotely about them. Actually, if anything should prove how much a parent loves their child, isn't it sticking with it even when you're on your ninth day of less than 5 hours of sleep, your kids have whined and complained all day, and you can't even poop in peace? Let me tell you: if I didn't bonkers love my kids, Kurt and I would've high-tailed it to Hawaii a long time ago.

If you choose to do parenting well, you sacrifice so, so much. Time is no longer remotely your own; your bank account takes a hit worthy of the Richter scale; you expend energy in ways and amounts that make your bones ache with exhaustion; often, you put your own personal dreams and aspirations on hold; etc. etc. etc. It is not fun to change poopy diapers, especially during winter when your kid gets no fewer than six gastrointestinal viruses. It is not fun to negotiate with a preschooler who always (ALWAYS) chooses option "C" when only options "A and B" have been offered. It is not fun to wake up at 5:15 every morning and never feel sufficiently rested.

This has been a particularly challenging parenting week for me for all of the above reasons and a few more that I won't go into. I'm tired. I'm grouchy. I'm histrionic. Typically, I would tell myself that I'll feel better in the morning after a good night's rest. But that's the catch 22 -- I'm not getting any rest, so things just seem a little bit worse each day.

Sigh.

Kids are worth it. I know this. And hopefully you know me well enough to know that I know this.

But I think we should be allowed to be honest with ourselves and with each other every now and then that this whole parenting thing is hard, hard work that sometimes doesn't feel very gratifying.

So I think the only thing to say at this point is "THANK YOU" Mom and Dad for choosing to do parenting well and sticking with it even through these kinds of weeks. I had no idea...I just had no idea!

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.