Two Minutes

My two year old daughter’s sounding cry these days is “two minutes.”

“Nora, let’s get PJs on!”
“Two minutes, Mama!”

Or

“Nora, we’ll go to the park in five minutes.”
“Two minutes, Dada?”

She has no idea how long two minutes lasts. She solely understands that two minutes is some time in the future. Not now.

Her concept of time has me thinking about my two minutes with her and her brother. We have an amount of time with our littles that is extremely limited in the grand scheme of life. Our mundane minutes will turn into their memories and I’ve often thought about the few things I hope they remember.

I hope they remember the laughter.
We laugh through the good and bad. We laugh because Weston insists upon carrying around a fake corn cob all day, and Nora calls him “Peto” when he acts like a dog! We laugh to keep ourselves from crying when the night blurs into day, and things go terribly wrong (cue mishaps like accidentally biting a kid’s finger, poop on the floor, etc.).

And, they were heard. 
Even though our kiddos are still little, we work hard to recognize their emotions. Nora gets frustrated easily and lashes out. Weston is more sensitive and sometimes cries when Nora cries. I hope they remember their feelings being acknowledged. I hope even when we disagree, today and in all the years to come, they remember being heard.

That they are loved.
I hope when they think back to their childhood and these early years, they remember the love. I hope they remember sprinting into our arms and how much our faces light up when we see them. I hope they remember lying with us when they didn’t feel good, and at least some fragments of our family adventures.

What do you hope your littles remember from their childhood?

A version of this post previously appeared at St. Luke's Birth Care Center.

Mom Olympics

With the Olympic Games kicking off this week, it got me thinking about the idea of a “Mom Olympics.” We all deserve a medal for merely getting through the days. Some days are certainly worth a gold while others barely deserve a bronze! But, there are some events that would be entertaining to see play out in an Olympic format. I’ve outlined a few of these events below!

Event #1: The Diaper Sprint

You know this one, get one diaper off while simultaneously adjusting the new one so your little darling doesn’t have a chance to relieve him or herself all over!

Event #2: The Bedroom Sneak

This one is no joke in our house! How can babies sleep in their stroller while planes are overhead and yet wake up to the slightest door creak? You deserve a medal every time you slither out of the room without the baby alarm sounding!

Event #3: Toddler Translating

I’m positive that my toddler often sounds like this to the average person… “Fadiblyabentruepeese?!” to which I always know she is requesting to go on a family adventure…please! Toddler translating at its best!

Event #4: Simultaneous Napping

Want to know how I’m able to find the time to type these words right now? Simultaneous naps! They don’t happen often. They are so rare when they do occur I sometimes get overly excited, and can’t decide what to do with my time. Then, the next thing I know, someone is awake again and all I did was get lost in the Facebook abyss. Seize your 20 minutes, mamas!

Event #5: Pumping and ­­­_____

Insert every awkward place you’ve ever pumped in the above blank and give yourself a medal. Breastfeeding is hard and is made even more difficult when you have to find time to pump in between all the other Mom Olympic Events!

Event #6: Wine Dance

A glass of wine at the end of the day is often the reward for completing so many monumental events. The real challenge is determining how many glasses is too many glasses to remain productive the following day!

Event #7: The Family Photo Session
I like a good candid photo that shows "real life." But, for two seconds can real life not include the baby barfing on himself while his sister plugs his nose? When you capture all members of the family looking at the camera, it's time to reward yourself!

Worthy of at least a bronze, yes?

What events have I missed? And, what event would you medal in? Admittedly, I might have the wine dance down! 

A version of this post previously at Today Parents.

You Could Have Told Me

Hey little bud with that toothy grin that makes my heart beat differently than it did ten months ago! Yeah, you, with that perfect baby body and the sweetest cuddles. You there. You could have warned me.

You could have given me a gentle nudge while you hiccuped in my belly. A nudge that told me these last ten months were going to redefine the word hard!

You could have told me the fear I felt when your sister didn't cry out for me in the middle of the night any longer would be trumped by the fear I felt when you were sick and cried out in misery.

You could have told me my heart would swell with love for you more quickly than your sister's and it would simultaneously ache while I watched hers catch up.

You could have warned me that I wouldn't sleep for ten months straight. That I’d curse the woman I was before I met you – the woman who seemed to know it all about how to make a baby feel secure enough to sleep!

Frankly, you could have told me you'd be the catalyst for me to call everything I thought I knew into question... how to be a working mom, an effective wife and partner, and a nurturing parent.

You could have warned me, bud, but I know I wouldn't have listened. Instead, as you have grown ounce by ounce, I have grown in patience and understanding. In the process of completing our family, you've helped complete me. My mind is more open and judgment comes slower now. I’m not perfect, but I’m thankful.

You are a rare gift, Weston – the rainbow in the middle of the rain. And, I’m thankful for all the love, lessons and laughter you’ve brought to our lives.

A version of this post previously appeared at St. Luke's Birth Care Center.

How Do I Quit You?

Come August, I will have been either pregnant or breastfeeding for three years straight. There was a brief sabbatical – about six weeks – between when I finished nursing Nora and got pregnant with Weston. But, for the better part of three years I have shared my body with my littles. Honestly, I’m tired, and ready to have my body back. Yet, I just can’t quit!

Breastfeeding feels so personal. What’s right for any given mom may range from never breastfeeding all the way to breastfeeding their child for years. I fall somewhere in the middle. Nora made the decision as to when to quit for us. She refused to nurse when she was around six months old. I pumped for another six weeks or so and called it good. Weston, has been a different story entirely.

For much of the first six months of his life, he outright refused formula (he projectile vomited it up!). As a mom who works full-time outside the home, it was challenging to keep up with his eating while building a reserve for the few work trips that were inevitable! During that time I would have given anything to just quit. Now that things have settled down a bit, I’m struggling!

I knew when I got pregnant with Weston that one of the things that can be deemed both a pro and con of having littles so close together is that each phase comes and goes in the blink of an eye. Within a three year stretch, my life growing babies will have started and ended. It's seeing this phase of my life conclude, not saying good-bye to that god-forsaken black bag, that’s got me struggling a bit.

 

Did you nurse? Did you struggle when it was time to quit?

 

A version of this post previously appeared on St. Luke's Birth Care Center.

Embracing Chaos

We had “one of those nights” recently that seem all too common these days. Both kids were restless which meant their bedroom doors were revolving as Andy and I entered and exited to comfort and rock. It was a week day so the restless night turned into a busy morning, and before I knew it we were walking down the hallway of daycare thirty minutes late.

Nora seemed to be walking slower than normal. I turned to check on her just in time to see her throw up all over the floor. I quickly scooped her up to once again comfort her when round two came – on my head! We turned right around and headed home just in time for me to change my clothes, pull my puke-covered hair into a ponytail and call into a video meeting from my laptop.

After the puking episode. Is it just me or does she look a little proud?

Just another day at the Wendlings!

I’ve been quiet over here on this blog for some time. I keep thinking if my kids start sleeping consistently, work slows down or everyone stays healthy, I’ll give the blog a makeover and get back to it. But, kids don’t sleep, work doesn’t slow, and health is relative. So, now’s as good a time as ever.

It’s taken me over nine months to get to this place, but I think I’m finally embracing the chaos. I grossly underestimated how hard having two littles so close together would be. But, this is our life today. It's crazy and beautiful and will soon enough be nothing but a cloud of hazy memories. And, while I can’t always laugh in the moment or embrace my puke-covered head, I can document it! So, I’m back and committing to make this a place for love, laughter, honesty and embracing the chaos.

Cheers!

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good ,Very Bad Day in Parenting

It was 2:00 in the morning (I think?) and the two littles were crying in what can only be described as “rounds.” You know, like how you sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat? One person starts and the other joins in? Yea, it was like that! Anyway, I finally lost it. I said things I shouldn’t have and put the two year old in her bed before my husband calmly came in from the baby’s room (after FINALLY getting him to sleep) and became the voice of reason. 

Ultimately, we eventually got the two year old to sleep, the baby started crying again and everyone was up – for the day – by 6:00 am.

We decided to head to the farmer’s market because “if we push both kids in strollers, they’ll sleep!” We were excited to treat ourselves to our favorite coffee! 

They didn’t fall asleep. 

And, the coffee shop wasn’t open for this particular farmer’s market. 

We cut our losses and headed back to the car because “if we drive around, the kids will sleep!” We were excited to get coffee at Starbucks in this new scenario because it has a drive-thru. 

When we arrived back to the car there was a flat tire. (I’m certain this was my karmic retribution for the lack of grace I showed in the wee hours of the morning.) 

And, the day was just getting started. From there we encountered technical issues with the bad tire that required tow truck dispatch, a friend picked us up, and we left a trail of Cheerios in her clean vehicle as a thank-you for her kind heart.

I write all of this down so I can laugh in a few years when I’m looking back at this time in our lives that can only be described as chaos. We’ll forget. This post will remind us! And, it will be funny. But only in retrospect because the day ended with a black cat running in front of our car. Mama said there’d be days like this, right?

After Infertility

I spoke with a friend the other day who admitted to me that she and her husband were in the beginning stages of the struggle to start their family. I had long suspected this was the case, but it was the first time we spoke at length about the topic. I struggled to find the words to help or reassure. Honestly, it was hard to hear her words without letting the memories of our not-so-distant past come flooding back.

It was just over three years ago I found out I had a unicornuate uterus byway of laparoscopic surgery for endometriosis. It was just under three years ago we started the IVF process. And, it was shortly thereafter we were surprised with a pregnancy prior to beginning our first round of IVF. But, the memories, they seem like a lifetime ago.

Life after infertility looks different than I thought it would. I thought I would be immersed in the gratitude toward these little surprises after so many months of heartache. But the truth is, the gratitude comes in waves. Because, motherhood – it’s hard.

I have come to regard our long journey to parenthood as a gift. We were granted the opportunity to ask ourselves what we wanted out of our lives. We didn't go from marriage to parenthood because it was what we were supposed to do. When it didn't come easy, we asked ourselves if we would be okay with our lives if they looked different than what we had always imagined. We explored our feelings toward adoption and fertility treatments. Ultimately, we put in place how far we were willing to go to complete our family.

Photos by Heart Shot Photo

Today, when we don't sleep or when we hear "no" for the one thousandth time, we know that we chose this life – this family! And although the gratitude comes in waves, the waves are big and can be momentarily debilitating.

I wish I could gift the after to my friends who are currently swimming through the storm that is infertility. But, unfortunately, experience isn't something you can wrap-up with a bow. Instead I can gift them this... the dark moments will eventually give way to sunshine. With or without a little one, your life will end up looking different than what you expected – the sunshine might be a different hue than you knew existed – but I promise your journey will help you. And, the journey will be what gives you the strength for the hardest of days to come.

A version of this post previously appeared on St. Luke's Birth Care Center.