Smile

Looking back on my one word for 2013 I can say without a doubt I completely failed to just "breathe". I didn't cut down on projects. I wasn't easier on myself. I didn't conquer relaxation. However, I learned quite a bit about myself and decided to just accept the list-making, ambitious, uptight person I am and not fight it. It actually stressed me out more knowing I wasn't relaxing as much as I should.

As for my list of 2013 resolutions, I've never had a year where I failed so badly at those as well. I am not back to my pre-pregnancy weight (owing to the other pregnancy). I never took Liesel to see a live performance because I was too tired and just didn't make it happen. I didn't learn the moves to the Lilo and Stitch hula (although I feel compelled to learn that for 2014... don't ask why because I couldn't tell you). I've heard something like only 8% of Americans actually make and keep New Year's Resolutions. This year I want to earn my spot back into that 8%. So without further ado, my one word for 2014 is....

SMILE. I want to smile more at my kids. I want to smile more to strangers. I want to smile more to my husband. I want to smile more to myself. That's it. Just smile. Not be happy... that can be a tall order, but smiling can be done no matter what the circumstances. So here goes, 2014 here I come!

Snapshots of Sydney Pippa

When I looked at my phone for pictures of Sydney Pippa (which, I've surely been snapping daily, right?) I was shocked to find they are a little, uhm, spare. So as I did with Brigitta, I'm going to post monthly snapshots of Sydney. It keeps me motivated to catch little moments here and there as she rapidly grows. This is all I have for November and December, but I'm going to do better in 2014!

With Aunt Whitney

I love these sweet turtle pjs (handed down by Reagan) and was so sad when Sydney grew out of them. 

Brent spends as much time as he can with Sydney when he's around. 

With Mom

Again with Dad

I don't want to say Sydney is a "good" baby because that automatically implies there are "bad" babies. I guess I can say Sydney is an extremely "easy" baby in that she doesn't require any extra attention for digestive issues or colic or just needing to be held. It's almost as if she was read the riot act in the pre-existence and told if she was going to come as an early surprise, she'd better not throw a fit when she got here. Sydney Pippa is a champion sleeper and she dozes for 4-6 hours at a stretch. During the night, she doesn't cry but I'll wake up to hear her rooting instead. After she's nursed, she goes right back to sleep. As a side note, Brigitta is now sleeping through the night so I'm getting loads more rest than I did when I was pregnant! Sydney has mastered the "social smile" that melts my heart. Her tiny body shudders as if the joy inside her just spills out onto her face. Initially Brigitta went through an adjustment period with the change in family dynamics. She'd randomly scream at things: doors, clothes, ice cream, etc. like she didn't know quite how to cope. After a couple of weeks, Brigitta relaxed and now "Puppaaah" as she calls her, doesn't seem to phase her in the slightest. Brigitta will run into the room with her bottle if she hears Sydney crying and on the flip side, she's right there to polish off a half-drunk bottle left behind. Brent's particularly happy about that because we aren't wasting even a drop of expensive formula. Sydney's still so small she just curls up on my shoulder and cuddles. I have to admit it's hard to put her down to make dinner or change a diaper because I know this won't last forever.

Oh Santa, We Know How You Feel

Here's the thing- we started out friends. It was cool but it was all pretend:

 You had your chance, you blew it. Out of sight, out of mind:

 Shut your mouth I just can't take it. Again and again and again and AGAIN!!!

Since you been gone I can breathe for the first time. I'm so moving on: 

 Thanks to you, now I get what I want:

Crushed it.

Chopped

First I discovered the chunks of blonde locks on the floor of Liesel's room. A quick forensic analysis told me this was Liesel's hair and not Ireland's. Then I took a closer look at my eldest daughter, who up till now I had passed in the hallway, bleary-eyed from a not-so-sound night of sleep. My suspicions were confirmed. Liesel had gotten out of bed early, gone into the kitchen, climbed onto the counter so she could reach the kitchen shears (magnetically attached to the side of the fridge), snuck them back to her room, and boldly charged down the road to becoming the next Vidal Sassoon. Because Liesel's hair is so much thinner than Ireland's, it was beyond repair. There was no way to just taper this in. Her flowing golden hair would need to be completely cut off.

I couldn't find a filter to make this look any better. 

I called my Aveda salon and left a message explaining what Liesel had done and asking to be squeezed in right away. Then I called Liesel's school to let them know that until she was presentable again, she wouldn't be coming to class. The salon called back and an all too amused woman booked us for the earliest appointment available. When I thanked her she chirped, "It happens!"

Liesel's stylist spotted her right away and said, "So you decided to have some fun this morning, eh?" At some point in my grown up life I told myself I would never cry over a haircut unless it was necessitated by chemotherapy. Hair grows back and there are bigger travesties in life to spend tears on. However, as I saw Liesel's lovely hair fall to the floor I hate to admit I choked back emotion. All in all it was 10 inches. I have to hand it to them, everyone at the salon was extremely calm and kind about the whole thing. In the end, they made it such a positive experience I'm honestly a little concerned Liesel will try it again just to go back.

This is just the first pass to get the main part. Much, much more was cut off.

Even though I was still fuming over the whole debacle, Liesel immediately embraced her new haircut. She likes how it "swings" and how she can jump around and let it fly, only to have it fall right back where it was when she's still. She excitedly tucks it behind her ears and tells me she's okay if people call her "cute" instead of "beautiful". The kitchen shears are now on top of the china cabinet and Ireland has been told to scream bloody murder if Liesel tries to cut her hair.

The new bob.

 I know Liesel is not the first, nor will she be the last, little girl to cut her hair. Nonetheless, it's still a bit hard for me to look at her and think of all the adorable hairstyles I used to do and how that era is over. Oh Liesel, what are we gonna do with you?

Liesel Epistles

The outside of my birthday card.

The inside of my birthday card. For the record, I did have a great time eating my breakfast in bed. While I did get an ice cream cake from Coldstone's, it wasn't nearly that big.

Liesel vacillates between calling us by our formal names and calling us Mom and Dad

I haven't seen this particular manicure inspiration on Pinterest but I think it should be!

 For reasons unknown to us, Liesel prefers to confront her dad through written, rather than spoken, word:

If you don't have real cookies handy, doesn't a drawing of cookies cheer you up just as much?

I love how Liesel drew pictures of her usual happy self, and a frowny face crying due to her father's harsh words... just in case the note itself wasn't clear enough.

Memo to Me, Memo to Me...

Do NOT leave my camera where Reagan can get a hold of it!

Especially since she appears to be recruiting:

Bringing Baby Home

 Pictures courtesy of Reagan:

Baby in a basket! Fresh from the stork :)

I'm particularly grateful Reagan got this shot. You can see the sweet swirl right on top of Sydney's head!

Sydney is a champion sleeper (out for 4-6 hours at a time) and I can't get enough of this serene little face.

Sydney Pippa's Hospital Photos

Many thanks to my generous mother-in-law for these! I'm grateful to have a record of this little girl in her first few days of life. Just a few of my favorites:

I really love this last one because you get a sense of how tiny she is with Brent's hand for reference. 

A Sweet Recovery

I once thought when a woman has a baby she spends the rest of her time in the hospital sleeping and getting pampered by nurses while she looks adoringly at her newborn. Now I know better. There are the vitals checks, billing department verification, hearing test, flabotomist, pediatric visit, newborn photos, and it's a never ending parade of doctors, nurses, residents and other hospital staff. Quite the opposite of restful. However, a little r&r comes a lot easier when you have a room like this:

I've never seen such a big hospital bed! It still felt like a hospital bed but it was nice to have extra room.

And a bathroom like this:

I loooooved the tub! Complete with jets and massage cycles. Lovely. 

Well if you insist...

 All in all not a bad place to recuperate, eh?

Introducing the Sixth Wuehler

Sydney Philippa Wuehler was born at 4:22 pm weighing 8 lbs 11.7 oz and 21.25 inches long. Let me tell you about her journey to this world! Apparently by the fourth child my womb has been primed to be a most comfortable, happy place because Sydney Pippa was in no way interested in leaving. Many a well-meaning person would chirp at me, "Almost there!" leaving me infuriated with this doo-wah who did not have a creature kicking at their ribs from the inside and running after 3 tinies on only 2 hours of sleep while everyone eyed their physique and felt they had a free pass to make comments on it (ie "You look like you're ready to POP!"). My merciful OB not only scheduled an induction, he moved it up a couple of days when there was an opening. And openings were scarce since all the Valentine's Day love children are due... about now.

I checked in with a bag of hot bagels for the staff and began the long day. By far the worst part for me was having the IV placed. I had an experienced nurse and a student. The student quickly volunteered to do the dirty deed and something inside me said I should politely request the nurse. I should have followed my instincts because she didn't know what she was doing so finally the nurse took over. Man alive, I HATE needles!!! From there it was increasing doses of pitocin and penicillin until the contractions were really grabbing a hold. They went from my lower back and moved into my pelvic floor which was new for me. I asked to be checked because I figured if I was close I'd just skip the epidural, put on my proverbial big-girl pants and breathe my way to the end of it. Hell, if Kate Middleton can do it, I can do it, right? I was dilated to a 5. Screw the natural birth movement, call the anesthesiologist. NOW!!!

For the first time, I was in labor in a hospital that allowed Brent to be in the room for the epidural. I was excited about that from the moment I found out months ago. Turns out, when I'm in excruciating pain and someone is sticking a needle in my back (I HATE needles!) he morphs into the most annoying person in the world. Let me be clear, my sweet husband was really trying to help. He had my phone and kept checking it to see if I'd received any new text messages. I snapped at him to put the stupid phone down and focus on ME for a minute. Then he grabbed the remote to the tv and started flipping through channels as I was desperately breathing through a really bad contraction. I snapped at him again and he explained he thought the distraction would be helpful. Just a couple of minutes after the epidural was placed, Brent morphed back into my wonderfully supportive husband. I was relieved that it was the fastest, most pain-free epidural I've ever had.

This was also the first time I was in a hospital that allowed me to eat! As we entered the afternoon, I chowed on a juicy, thick cheeseburger and fries. The amount of energy that cheeseburger gave me cannot be underestimated. I entered a period of happy peace where I was conscious of the contractions but not in pain and energized. Then it began to snow. With my sweet husband by my side, I relished the beauty and quiet of it all.

Something told me I was close and I was getting the urge to push. The resident checked me and said I was fully dilated but still had a bit of cervix that needed to clear before I should push. To our surprise, she said she would check again in an hour. A team of residents as well as my OB came back in 15 minutes and suggested one more check. Since I was good to go, I did a practice push and well, they didn't even have time to break the bed. After the excruciatingly long wait, Sydney quickly greeted the world. Another thing I loved about this experience is I didn't do coached pushing; I pushed when I felt like it which worked so much better with my body's instincts.

Sydney had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (very common) but she was in no way choking or suffocating on it. She made it clear she didn't appreciate being evicted from the womb. They handed her to me and immediately covered us in warm blankets and here's another thing I loved- they let me hold her for a really long time. With every other birth I've been given a special moment or two before they whisk the baby away to be measured, poked and prodded. Not this time. The moment I saw her face I knew she was our Sydney Pippa. She's at once similar to her sisters as well as her own baby.

Her weight was a big surprise to everyone. I was hoping she'd be just under 8 lbs. When my OB and residents felt around, they thought perhaps she'd be just a tad over 8 lbs. No one was anticipating the 8 lbs 11.7 oz.! However, she handily filled her diaper 3 times in 90 minutes and her weight dropped to 8 lbs. 9 oz.

I'm so relieved she's here safe and sound. I once mentioned to my father I wasn't sure what the Lord's plan was in having this baby we were already planning to have come so much sooner than we were prepared for. He wisely said, "You'll know why when you finally look into her face." He was right. Our little family is here and now that Sydney Pippa is a part of it, I can't imagine life any other way.