Boston was amazing. We will definitely return.
Hill Family Does Boston from Carrie Hill on Vimeo.
Sep 25, 2010
Playing Catch Up
In May, we traveled to Boston for a few days. It was Charlotte's first plane trip. I posted photos a while ago, and just got around to completing the editing of the video we captured.
Boston was amazing. We will definitely return.
Boston was amazing. We will definitely return.
Sep 21, 2010
The Thing I Never Thought I Would Say
If parenting has taught me one thing it is that any preconceived notions of how I would behave as a parent, how it would feel, or how I would be as a person after becoming Mommy were completely unfounded. Not wrong, per se, just ill formed. That, and no matter how well you plan for it, your kid will definitely have a poopy blow out on the morning when you have a very important early meeting requiring a bath, and a change for both you and said child, and while you may be close to having a premature heart attack at 32, you will live through it and still manage to be on time.
I do not miss work. When we discussed and eventually decided for me to take this time off, I thought I would miss the adult interaction, the fulfillment that came from launching a major project, the ego boost I used to get with each promotion, bonus, new office. I don't. I don't miss the stress. I do not yearn for a constant obsession and striving over the balance in time to ensure that my child and now children feel that they are my first priority. I do not have any desire to live through another child's first day at daycare as a baby.
So I am presented with this dilemma: The money ends in March. Our current financial situation affords much flexibility and freedom to do what we want, travel when we want, etc., and neither of us want that to end. Yet, I know I cannot return to a full-time corporate work climate after this experience. What to do...what to do? My mind is full of options, all interesting ones, and yet I can't seem to focus on starting any one of them.
(And, can you blame me? I mean, look at those faces.)
I do not miss work. When we discussed and eventually decided for me to take this time off, I thought I would miss the adult interaction, the fulfillment that came from launching a major project, the ego boost I used to get with each promotion, bonus, new office. I don't. I don't miss the stress. I do not yearn for a constant obsession and striving over the balance in time to ensure that my child and now children feel that they are my first priority. I do not have any desire to live through another child's first day at daycare as a baby.
So I am presented with this dilemma: The money ends in March. Our current financial situation affords much flexibility and freedom to do what we want, travel when we want, etc., and neither of us want that to end. Yet, I know I cannot return to a full-time corporate work climate after this experience. What to do...what to do? My mind is full of options, all interesting ones, and yet I can't seem to focus on starting any one of them.
(And, can you blame me? I mean, look at those faces.)
Sep 14, 2010
A Monkey and a Buggie
When Alex isn't jumping over Charlotte or throwing things precariously close to her little head, he is generally amazing at getting her to smile, laugh and talk. There is no question that this little one adores her big brother.
Sep 13, 2010
Hip Hop Happy!
We celebrated Alexander's fourth birthday last weekend with a backyard movie night Saturday, followed by a brunch with the grandparents on Sunday morning. The movie party will be something we repeat...many times. It was great fun.
Most importantly, my four year old (GASP!) enjoyed himself. Mission accomplished. On to planning for next year.
Most importantly, my four year old (GASP!) enjoyed himself. Mission accomplished. On to planning for next year.
Sep 4, 2010
We Do Have Two! I Swear!
My Dearest Charlotte Olivia Buggie Sha-Sha Girl,
Please do not hate me when you discover that in six months I have managed to write this one letter to you, while I wrote your brother letters pretty much every month for his first two years of life. I promise to make it up to you someday, but know that this does not mean that you will get a car on your 16th birthday. For that, you'll have to do a whole lot more laundry, dusting and vacuuming then your little self is able to handle right now. We have 15 and 1/2 years to discuss this further, and I digress. On to your letter.
So....so....six months ago, on this very evening, I was probably nursing you in my small, yet comfortable room at Lankenau Hospital, reveling in the fact that you made it into the world with nary a scratch. And quickly too! Six and a half hour labors are infinitely better than 22 hour labors. Those of you reading who have not yet had a child, take note!
At this time, six months ago, I was probably also completely caught up in your hair. Because that hair. OH MY GOD. That hair was the stuff of baby legend, and my darling, I wish I had taken more photographs of it because it was so cool. As it stands, there are about 500 photos of you in your first few days of life, we haven't managed to become the parents who take rolls of film (ha - remember film) of their first child and manage three snaps of their second. So you will get to see this hair when you're interested in looking at your own baby photos. But really. There wasn't a person who saw you in the 72 hours after your birth who didn't mention your hair. And then when you were about eight weeks old, all but 1/16th of it fell out over the course of five consecutive nights. The stuff that is remaining never ceases to bring a smile to my face, no matter how vexed I feel at that moment. Your new hair is coming in light blonde, and yet you're hanging on to these long strands of deep brown-black from the newborn days. Basically, it's my hair in reverse when I'm overdue for blond highlights.
I could talk for weeks about your hair, or your cute birthmark on your left cheek, or your thumbnails (THUMBNAILS!) or your crooked finger. Yes. I noticed that on our second night together in the hospital. Your index finger on your right hand is bent to the left at a precarious angle. Experts call that clinodactyly. Daddy and I call it crazy. Old Crazy Finger. I do hope that if you someday go to college and choose to join a sorority, that becomes your rush name.
We brought you home healthy and lovely, sleeping lots during the day and little at night. Alexander took to your presence with a love that I don't think I've ever known. Watching him with you in those early days of your life made me so envious of my friends and family who have siblings. There is a very special bond growing between you and he. Lately, when Alex enters the room, it is as if no one else exists on the planet, you are just so focused on him. And it doesn't matter what he is doing. He could be laughing, screaming, crying, tormenting or cuddling you; you give him your undivided attention. Lately, you've developed a special type of language that you save for him. He's the one who gets the best shrieks, yells and giggles out of you. It is altogether amazing to watch and I hope beyond hope that this early time establishes the foundation for a friendship that the two of you will share into your old years.
All this talk of you watching your brother may lead some to think that you are an observer in spirit, and that couldn't be further from the truth. You, my dear, want to participate in the world around you, and you make your desires known through your action that continues to amaze Daddy and I. At five days old, you rolled over. I am not kidding. I put you on your belly for tummy time, and turned to help Alex with a puzzle. I turned back to check on you and you were on your back. Sleep deprived, I asked your Dad if I had put you on your belly. I had. We marveled. Since, you have craved tummy time, and when you managed to build the strength to push yourself up, back time was history. I theorize that this way, you have much more control over where you're looking and what you're seeing.
You are also a marathon night-sleeper, although for the first few weeks at home you had us wondering if you would ever get your day and night figured out. Those weeks were worth it. Lately you've been putting yourself to sleep between 6:30-7:00 and we generally do not hear from you until 7:00-7:30 the next morning. Daddy loves this. I love it too, so much so that I am ready to buy you that car and just put it into storage until you turn sixteen. Mommy loves her some sleep.
Charlotte, you are happy, healthy, squishy and smiley. You blow raspberries at your brother and when we come get you in the morning after your marathon sleep, you never fail to greet us with a giant toothless smile. You are drooling a ton and you love to suck your thumb. Lately, you've been preferring the left, but I do catch you from time to time favoring the right. You enjoy time in your Exersaucer, tummy time, sitting on our laps as long as you can look out at the world and just about anything your brother does.
You have brightened our world in the way only a new baby can and have taught me that love is, indeed, limitless. Thank you for joining us in this crazy adventure.
Love,
Mommy
Please do not hate me when you discover that in six months I have managed to write this one letter to you, while I wrote your brother letters pretty much every month for his first two years of life. I promise to make it up to you someday, but know that this does not mean that you will get a car on your 16th birthday. For that, you'll have to do a whole lot more laundry, dusting and vacuuming then your little self is able to handle right now. We have 15 and 1/2 years to discuss this further, and I digress. On to your letter.
So....so....six months ago, on this very evening, I was probably nursing you in my small, yet comfortable room at Lankenau Hospital, reveling in the fact that you made it into the world with nary a scratch. And quickly too! Six and a half hour labors are infinitely better than 22 hour labors. Those of you reading who have not yet had a child, take note!
At this time, six months ago, I was probably also completely caught up in your hair. Because that hair. OH MY GOD. That hair was the stuff of baby legend, and my darling, I wish I had taken more photographs of it because it was so cool. As it stands, there are about 500 photos of you in your first few days of life, we haven't managed to become the parents who take rolls of film (ha - remember film) of their first child and manage three snaps of their second. So you will get to see this hair when you're interested in looking at your own baby photos. But really. There wasn't a person who saw you in the 72 hours after your birth who didn't mention your hair. And then when you were about eight weeks old, all but 1/16th of it fell out over the course of five consecutive nights. The stuff that is remaining never ceases to bring a smile to my face, no matter how vexed I feel at that moment. Your new hair is coming in light blonde, and yet you're hanging on to these long strands of deep brown-black from the newborn days. Basically, it's my hair in reverse when I'm overdue for blond highlights.
I could talk for weeks about your hair, or your cute birthmark on your left cheek, or your thumbnails (THUMBNAILS!) or your crooked finger. Yes. I noticed that on our second night together in the hospital. Your index finger on your right hand is bent to the left at a precarious angle. Experts call that clinodactyly. Daddy and I call it crazy. Old Crazy Finger. I do hope that if you someday go to college and choose to join a sorority, that becomes your rush name.
We brought you home healthy and lovely, sleeping lots during the day and little at night. Alexander took to your presence with a love that I don't think I've ever known. Watching him with you in those early days of your life made me so envious of my friends and family who have siblings. There is a very special bond growing between you and he. Lately, when Alex enters the room, it is as if no one else exists on the planet, you are just so focused on him. And it doesn't matter what he is doing. He could be laughing, screaming, crying, tormenting or cuddling you; you give him your undivided attention. Lately, you've developed a special type of language that you save for him. He's the one who gets the best shrieks, yells and giggles out of you. It is altogether amazing to watch and I hope beyond hope that this early time establishes the foundation for a friendship that the two of you will share into your old years.
All this talk of you watching your brother may lead some to think that you are an observer in spirit, and that couldn't be further from the truth. You, my dear, want to participate in the world around you, and you make your desires known through your action that continues to amaze Daddy and I. At five days old, you rolled over. I am not kidding. I put you on your belly for tummy time, and turned to help Alex with a puzzle. I turned back to check on you and you were on your back. Sleep deprived, I asked your Dad if I had put you on your belly. I had. We marveled. Since, you have craved tummy time, and when you managed to build the strength to push yourself up, back time was history. I theorize that this way, you have much more control over where you're looking and what you're seeing.
You are also a marathon night-sleeper, although for the first few weeks at home you had us wondering if you would ever get your day and night figured out. Those weeks were worth it. Lately you've been putting yourself to sleep between 6:30-7:00 and we generally do not hear from you until 7:00-7:30 the next morning. Daddy loves this. I love it too, so much so that I am ready to buy you that car and just put it into storage until you turn sixteen. Mommy loves her some sleep.
Charlotte, you are happy, healthy, squishy and smiley. You blow raspberries at your brother and when we come get you in the morning after your marathon sleep, you never fail to greet us with a giant toothless smile. You are drooling a ton and you love to suck your thumb. Lately, you've been preferring the left, but I do catch you from time to time favoring the right. You enjoy time in your Exersaucer, tummy time, sitting on our laps as long as you can look out at the world and just about anything your brother does.
You have brightened our world in the way only a new baby can and have taught me that love is, indeed, limitless. Thank you for joining us in this crazy adventure.
Love,
Mommy
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