Surprise, it's a birth story!

Oh hi. It's been almost a month since my last post, where I mentioned that I had planned to sign on to write Wes' birth story, but instead accidentally deleted the many, many words I'd typed over the course of several months' worth of tiny moments to write. Sigh. I guess I've finally come to terms with deleting that post, and feel ready to re-write some version of the tale. And today yesterday (took me a few hours to write this and now it's tomorrow), Wes is 6 months old, so it felt like a good time to get this story out of me already. Margie and I made him half a cake today (well, really a whole cake, but I cut the layers in half, and it's a 4-layer "half cake"), and gave him one tiny lick of frosting. He has two teeth, has mastered rolling in one direction, is doing okay with bedtime sleep training, LOVES eating baby food and teething crackers, and has a smile that lights up his whole face. His sister makes him laugh a lot. He thinks I'm hilarious, too. We've been staying with my in-laws for the last couple of months because of covid and needing childcare help, and while I am incredibly grateful for their hospitality, care, and companionship, it's heartbreaking that my family hasn't met this guy yet. He's good with FaceTime, but it's obviously not enough, and I'm hopeful we can make it work to see them soon, because wow does it make me sad to be so far from them as this guy just keeps growing. He is usually a bundle of smiles and happiness, though right now he's crying because he woke up and I haven't gone in to nurse him (sleep training).

But I digress. This was supposed to be a birth story. I don't really have it in me to do the super detailed paragraphs of prose, but I'll tell the story. It will probably end up being long.

My last month of pregnancy was the first month of shelter-in-place. To say it was weird is an understatement. Margie home from preschool, Will working from home, me trying to figure out if I was going to go into labor or get induced (gestational diabetes, yay), and our families not knowing how and when and if they would be able to come visit. We all assumed this would last a few weeks or a few months, tops. Sigh.

We eventually landed on our beloved nanny quarantining for two weeks and then coming to stay with Margie the day I was scheduled to be induced (one day before my due date), which was honestly wonderful from a planning perspective. We were able to be relaxed and calm about the whole going to the hospital experience, which was great for Margie. We had a day at home all together, hanging out and packing our bags and waiting for our time to go. I'm so grateful that we got to do that, instead of being home when I went into labor, hurried and stressed and in pain. 

When we arrived at the hospital, around 3pm, we were delighted to run into Nurse Kate (from Margie's birth) in the parking lot. We were giddy with anticipation and the joy of seeing a friendly face, and she escorted us into the building (we were all masked but social distancing wasn't really a thing yet). We were taken to the delivery room quickly, since they were expecting us, and settled in for the day. They started me off with a dose of misoprostol and fentanyl (wow, fentanyl is the good stuff. I can see why it's addictive and nobody should be allowed to self-administer it. wow.), but nothing really started happening. I was feeling chipper, and excited that Kate and our other friend Bry were both working (we had definitely tried to plan for this, but there was no guarantee). They weren't assigned to us, but it wasn't too busy so they were able to come and hang out, and our other nurses were delightful as well. It felt like a big clubhouse of women, coming together to socialize and get a baby born, and I definitely felt a sort of high just from being in a room of friends, laughing and talking, as if we weren't in the early stages of a pandemic. 

After several hours, and another round of miso+fentanyl, we amped it up to a foley balloon and catheter. Now, originally we had considered a plan that would have me getting the foley and going home for 12 hours to begin labor at home before returning...I am very glad we did not do that plan. I can't imagine waddling around the house with a balloon in my cervix and a catheter taped to my thigh, Margie hanging all over me, as I went into labor without medication. No thanks. The balloon did its thing, but eventually we moved on to pitocin and an epidural. The pitocin moved things along, albeit slowly; I had gone from zero to 5cm over the course of about 24 hours, and it was time to make things happen. 

At about 3pm or so, on April 14 (my due date), someone manually broke my water, and labor picked up. Within the hour, I was at 7cm, but then it became harder to get the baby's heartbeat on the monitor. The doctor checked me (still at 7cm), and suggested we place an internal monitor and have me move onto all fours for better tracking positioning. The nurse started to place the monitor, and was going to have me switch to all fours, when the doctor decided to check me one last time before leaving. It had only been about 90 seconds, but suddenly I was at 10cm and ready to push! Apparently the reason they were having trouble getting a heartbeat was that Wes was in the birth canal trying to be born. 

After only two rounds of pushing, Wes was born. It took less than 10 minutes (barely more than 5 minutes, really - they call it "two pushes" but technically it's like, 6 pushes, 3 at a time?) and when they pulled him out and handed him to me, I couldn't believe it. One minute I was pushing and they were exclaiming that they could see his head, and the next, I was being given a baby. I remember thinking, "what?! already?! I'm done pushing (possibly forever? since this is likely our last baby? I'll never push again? that was it?) and somehow being disappointed that it had happened so quickly (after 24 hours in the hospital, but still). It was super smooth, with no tearing, and as Margie had encouragingly requested, "fast as a shooting star." 4/14/20 at 4:59pm. 

I delivered the placenta without much fanfare, and we have a nice video of the placenta coming out and the doctor explaining all the parts of it (we did the same when Margie was born, though we didn't capture the actual delivery that time), and it's pretty neat to see that now. I nursed Wes just a little, and he latched easily, though I'm not sure he was getting much at that point. Eventually, the epidural had worn off and the nurse said it was time to see if I could get to the bathroom on my own. I had no trouble walking the few feet to the toilet, but once I sat down I instantly got very dizzy. I mentioned this to her, and she asked if I thought I would pass out, and I remember thinking, "no, of course not oh yes actually I am going to pass out this is what it feels like when you're going to pass out I guess" and she shoved an alcohol wipe under my nose to wake me up. She told me to try to stay with her, and moved me back into the wheelchair, since I could not walk to the bed. I felt ok after a minute, but when she asked if I could stand up and get back in the bed, I think I may have laughed. At the very least, I said no way.

Somehow they got me back into the bed, and that's when the fun really started. I was still dizzy, and had to lay down with my eyes closed. I was cold, but feverish. Started getting uncontrollable shakes. They started in on my fundal massage, and I was just splooging clots out...apparently some very large ones. Will reports that they were golf-ball-sized. The nurses and doctor seemed concerned, and tried a few different things to stop the hemorrhaging. I don't remember what they all were because I was pretty out of it; I remember asking for blankets, mostly. I don't remember feeling stressed out or scared. They had hooked my epidural back up, I think. Or maybe given me fentanyl. It was 6 months ago and my memory is pretty blurry. And the post-visit summaries are...long and kind of hard to read. But I know that they tried a few things before eventually resorting to the ole "doctor sticks her hand up into your uterus and literally scrapes out the remaining blood clots with her hand" trick (I couldn't feel a thing), which worked. The whole thing probably lasted about 10-15 minutes. Will remembers that suddenly there were a bunch of people in the room when I came out of the bathroom and was put back in bed, and then just as suddenly, when the bleeding had slowed enough, they all left. That whole time, he had Wes and had given him a bottle (baby's first formula!) and really just was a champ taking care of Wes even though I know he was stressed out.

I spent the next several hours laying in bed hooked up to a variety of IVs that I don't remember - except the big bag of iron, because that was, well, iron-colored. Once I had perked up a little, we started ordering copious amounts of delicious hospital food (seriously, the selection was great) and our friends did a socially-distant sidewalk dropoff of burgers and milkshakes. 

I wasn't feeling great, emotionally, and we had a great visit with a doctor who was able to prescribe me Zoloft to start in the hospital. I don't know if it's the pandemic, the second-kid, or what, but I am really grateful to have had that help. I recognized some of those "first 3 weeks" hormonal rollercoaster feelings that I had had with Margie, and I thought that since I was already feeling them in the hospital, and I knew we were going home to zero extra support and help in person (thanks, covid), it was better to address it head on. I remain really grateful for modern medicine and my personal (privileged) education and destigmatization of mental health. 

Anyway, Wes was a happy, sleepy baby in the hospital, and really remained a great lil sleeper for the first several months (he's still pretty good, just going through a bit of 6-month old "oh I can get snuggles instead of sleeping alone? I'll take that, please!" at the moment). Bright eyed and bushy tailed and just a very mellow lil dude. We love him very much. 

Margie is a loving big sister, and is starting to enjoy interacting with him (though she still does not like how drooly he is, and has decided that his middle name should be Goo-ball) (he still doesn't have a middle name; we have not agreed on one yet, nor have we found the time to discuss it at enough length). It's wild to see them together. Sometimes I can't believe we have two kids. I can't believe Margie is four. I can't believe Wes is 6 months old. I can't believe it's October. Every day is still a bit of a blur, and time stretches on and shrinks down predictably (it's "the longest shortest time", after all). But I'm grateful for our little family, and our health, and that in general, we have two happy and well-adjusted (adjusting, I suppose) kids. 

We're doing our best to give them a full and joyful life amidst the awfulness of covid and racial injustice and the general political shitstorm that is our country right now. Every day is a new chance to try again, and every night is another opportunity to stay up way too late, carving out tiny moments of quiet time to myself. It's a bizarre time to have a new baby. I miss my family, and our friends, and home. I grieve the maternity and newborn experience I wanted to have and will never have again. I am exhausted and sad and grinding my teeth constantly even though I try to stop. I often have two children touching my body, and rarely have more than 5 minutes to myself in any given day (hence the staying up way too late). I smell like maple syrup from the fenugreek supplements I take to increase my milk supply.

But we keep moving forward, and making the best choices we can with the information we have, day by day. And here we are.

Learning at home

My kid is in preschool. I feel incredibly lucky to not be beholden to a homeschooling curriculum like so many of my friends who are trying desperately to continue their children's education while trapped at home (and also trying to work from home full time! it's madness!). With only about 1.5 weeks left to go of this pregnancy (and let's be real, even starting 3 weeks ago), I don't have the energy to make a color-coded daily schedule with school-like activities full of enriching preschool curriculum. I can barely keep track of the different types of Zoom calls and classes that are available for us to call into (and there are so many good ones!), much less like, keep to a schedule.

But I still want her to learn! 3.5 year olds are little sponges and they learn whether you have a curriculum or not - and Margie is a curious, talkative kid. I'm finding it really fun and satisfying to just make little mini-lessons out of whatever we're doing, following her lead and exploring things she asks about or wants to do anyway.

For example:

Watch Rogers and Hammerstein's 1965 TV broadcast of Cinderella 3 times back to back.
(available for free via Amazon Prime)

• Music/Dance: What is a waltz? How does it sound? How are they dancing? Let's count 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3!
• Psychology/Relationships: Why are the stepsisters mean? Do we think it's because their mommy is mean to them? What is jealousy? Why do people get married? How do the king and queen treat each other?
• Science (Magic): How does the fairy godmother change Cinderella's pumpkin into a carriage? (magic!) Why does Cinderella leave at midnight? (magic!) Does anyone else have magic in this story? (ok there's not much science here)
• Story structure: Notice how the Prince and Cinderella say "Thank you most kindly / You are most kindly welcome" many different times. This helps them realize they know each other!
• Empathy/Social Cues: How are Cinderella and the Prince looking at each other? What do their faces look like? Why? How do the stepsisters look? Why do they make that face?

Eat.

• Why are the noodles soft now, but they were hard before? (we cooked them in water and they soaked up all the water and got soft!)
• Why do we eat chicken/yogurt/tofu? (protein! makes your muscles strong!)
• Why do we eat vegetables? (vitamins! carrots are good for your eyes!)
• Why do we eat cheese? (calcium! it's good for your bones!)
• Why do we eat cookies? (they taste good! they give us fun sugar energy to get things done! they're a special treat!)
• See also: cooking, learning about different ingredients, etc. Not sure what the "lesson" is, but maybe it's just a lesson in how we make food?

Paying attention to our neighborhood (a great one if your kid is also into Daniel Tiger)

• Who are the helpers in our neighborhood?
• When you hear a fire truck, where do you think the firefighter is going?
• What is a city councilperson ("someone who helps take care of the people in our neighborhood", according to me)?

I don't know. Other stuff. Lots of letters and sounds and drawing and dancing. It simultaneously feels like cheating (because we're not planning educational activities) and being awesome (because we're turning playtime into learning experiences). We're doing our best. She's having fun. This shit is hard.

Any fun tips or accidental lessons you've had? Share away!

Some days are harder.

Today was a hard day. We stayed up too late last night, which was fun and different in the moment, but regrettable in the morning, even though Margie slept in until 8am. And I've just been tired and kind of down all day.

My blood sugar was all over the place; I just couldn't seem to control it (not that I was trying super hard). This whole social distancing thing has been really rough on my ability to keep up with a normal eating schedule. Because of the gestational diabetes, I'm supposed to eat certain amounts of certain foods at certain times, and...it's just hard right now. Partly because what we have in the house is unusual and gets limited (for example, running out of eggs or fresh vegetables) and partly because like most people, all I want is comfort food (and bread, fruit, and chocolate are on the "eat in extremely limited portions" list). And partly because time feels like an illusion and it's hard to remember to keep myself fed with specific things. I want bagels and cake and macaroni and cheese, whenever I want them.

I think today is the first day I've felt truly stir crazy. By late afternoon, all I wanted to do was leave the house. Per doctor's orders, we're supposed to be treating ourselves as "high risk" until the baby is born, which means staying home (walks in the neighborhood are ok but we're all still getting over this cold and cough and haven't really felt up for it yet). I miss grocery shopping (we've been advised to have others shop for us for now). I made an Instacart order that was close to $350 worth of groceries - that's how much we need to restock the basics that make me feel culinary freedom - but canceled it because I want to support the workers who plan to strike tomorrow (when our order was to be filled). We're eating leftovers and getting creative with how we use up things we have on hand, and we're eating well, but it's not the same as being able to pop over to the store as needed, or to have a fridge filled with fresh produce that you picked yourself. We'll be taking advantage of a good friend's offer to shop for us, but it feels weird to hand off a list this large to a friend. And like I said, I miss grocery shopping. I enjoy the process and the control I feel when I've stocked the kitchen to my liking. We finally were able to get some takeout this week, but even though it was completely delicious, the process of transferring our food into our own containers and immediately disposing of the ones from the restaurant felt unnatural and strange. And it's all a lot of work. We're doing so much cooking and so many dishes and there's just so much to do when you're home 24/7 with a preschooler, even if neither parent is working. It's exhausting.

Today I just felt trapped in our house, which I know is partly attributable to the blood sugar up and downs, and partly due to the whole [waves hands] situation. And partly because Margie didn't nap today, so while I took a 1.5 hour nap (thank you, Will), things were off. And I am tired. At almost 38 weeks pregnant, I'm just tired all the time. I need to nap, I need to rest, which puts a lot of the parenting burden on Will. I am uncomfortable, but hoping this kid doesn't come too early. I want to be outside, but I also just want to lay in bed. I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep well. I'm hungry, but if I eat what I'm supposed to (and what I usually don't want), I'm not satisfied. I want to treasure this time when we're still just the 3 of us, and spend as much time as I can with Margie...but sometimes (usually) I just don't have the energy to match the kind of playing she wants to do. I find myself getting more frustrated, and more tired than I want to be. I'm not getting as much done around the house because I'm just so tired. I went out in the yard for 5 minutes to pick lemons and just breathe alone outside for a minute. It was both too much and not enough.

This is a hard time to be in, for everyone. Pregnancy is hard even in the best circumstances. Social distancing and isolation are hard even for introverts. And we are certainly not in the worst position, by any means, but today, I just needed to complain a bit. Here's hoping I can get some sleep tonight and let tomorrow be another day with a fresh start.

On being selfish, whatever that means right now

I fluctuate between feeling completely normal, enjoying the beautiful little moments where my kid conspiratorially tells me a story from Daniel Tiger ("he imagined he was in a cave with a real grizzly bear! and he said grrriffic! and the bear said bearrriffic! hahahahahaha!"). And the hard ones, where out of nowhere she talks about how she still wants to be a person when she's dead, she doesn't want to be a tree or something else, she wants us all to be persons so we can still be together and she can be a big sister still. I'm really trying to focus on enjoying this time together, just the three of us, which is truly a unique experience we were not supposed to get. So I'm to relish those "normal" moments and be glad for this time.

But then I also feel grief, a selfish sort or mourning for the maternity leave I thought I was going to have. I had so many self-care plans, for haircuts and foot massages and taking myself to the movies. For snuggling friends' newborns and walks around the neighborhood and getting things done around the house and having energy to enjoy my time with Margie before her brother comes along. I wasn't anticipating a week of quarantine in our house because Will may or may not have Coronavirus, to feel anxious and tired constantly, and to feel like every day was a day sadly lost to fear and unproductive hours rather than a day spent happily preparing for the baby and enjoying our family. I wasn't expecting the first week of my maternity leave to be like this.

If he has it, he has an extremely mild case so far. It's been about a week, and he has a super low fever, fatigue, and a cough. It could very well be a bad cold/mild flu. But in these times, you can't be too certain. The whole state is now under mandatory shelter in place rules, and if you're even suspected to have the virus, you're supposed to quarantine for 14 days. We're about halfway through that period, and really hoping things get better. Margie has a cough, but I have no symptoms outside of "holyshit I'm so pregnant and tired", so once he's better, we can get on some sort of schedule and get outside and start getting things done. But until then, we're basically locked inside our house (thank goodness we have a backyard), relying on friends for grocery deliveries, and trying to stay sane. Margie thinks we're staying home because she and Will are sick, and we're all (like everyone we know) on a special long spring break to stay healthy and take care of our bodies. We haven't figured anything to tell her beyond that, but with so much uncertainty, it didn't seem urgent to explain the concept of a global pandemic. I just don't want her to get a complex about being sick.

Some good tweets:

My therapist yesterday was so excellent & gave the advice that if you feel like you're going to cry or lose it, realize that you're processing grief. We're losing parts of our way of life for now or permanently, and mourning it is completely natural.

— Kat Kinsman (@kittenwithawhip) March 20, 2020

there are obviously giant differences, but I keep thinking about how much this reminds me of what it felt like after my first baby was born. it’s the mix of boredom and terror, and the isolation, and the way you count hours and days and hope it means something when they pass.

— Kathryn VanArendonk (@kvanaren) March 19, 2020

You may feel like you’re on an emotional roller coaster right now. Things may not feel entirely real. You may get shocked every few minutes by the realization that this is actually happening. This is your psyche gradually attuning to the situation.

— Jessica Ellis (@baddestmamajama) March 18, 2020

In addition to our families, we've had some wonderful friends checking in to see how we are doing. Offering to do Zoom playdates and grocery runs, and just to say hi. I so appreciate each one of those texts, and I've been feeling guilty and selfish that I'm not initiating more. I feel so self-centered right now, which is fairly normal in late pregnancy, but feels indulgent now. I just don't have the capacity to reach out and care for others, when I can barely care for myself and my family. But I appreciate every text and tweet and email, and I try to at least respond honestly and not superficially. Today my responses went from "doing ok, though Will is feeling sick" to "not so good!" so that's a start.

It was a weird day. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

I had an ultrasound and prenatal checkup today. My doctor wore a disposable plastic gown + gloves, and a fabric mask. She told me that I'm the first patient she's been able to "gear up" for (my husband has respiratory symptoms), and that she has to wash/reuse the mask.

— Kim Rohrer (@kimskitchensink) March 21, 2020

The Unknown

Yesterday, we unpacked some more bags from our quick trip to Tahoe. We baked bread. Made stock and soup. Picked flowers in the garden. Did laundry.

Today, we unpacked some more. Ran the dishwasher twice. I cleaned the stove. Friends went grocery shopping for us, so now we have fresh produce. Read this article about how coronavirus may impact pregnancy and delivery. Found it alternately helpful and terrifying.

There's just so much uncertainty right now, that even the days that are full of fun and lightness and snuggles and giggles and up with me in tears at one point or another. We've been taking really nice family naps and dealing with the "I don't want to turn off Daniel Tiger" tantrums, and spending time together in a way that is honestly a blessing, given that these are our last weeks as a family of three.

I don't have much more to say about how things are going in week 1, though I had lots of coherent and thoughtful things to say earlier when I was washing dishes. Funny how those nicely worded smart things just dissipate by the end of the day.

I have a Non-Stress Test and Strep B swab appointment, as well as a phone appointment with my doctor, tomorrow. I was supposed to have an ultrasound to check both the size and position of the baby, but they postponed that until next week. Why? Will has what may just be a cold/sinus infection (stuffy head/face, sinus pressure), but may be coronavirus (super low fever, dry cough and fatigue), and since his doctor has him in the "person under investigation" category and I live with him, they consider me to be possibly be an asymptomatic carrier. And given that, they don't want me coming in for an appointment where I'd be in close quarters, "face to face" with an ultrasound tech for an hour (vs the NST where they'd gear up and put the monitors on me and leave me alone in the room). I can't get tested because the likelihood I have coronavirus is too low, and tests are being rationed carefully. I agree that they should save the tests for those who really need them, and I was feeling preemptively guilty at the idea that I might take a test away from someone who needs it more. But it's still hard not to know, to be assumed to be a risk to others until proven otherwise, but not able to prove otherwise.

It's disappointing, of course, because I was really looking forward to an ultrasound as reassurance, and to help inform any future planning for labor and delivery. But I also want to prioritize the health of the medical staff as much as possible, and since there's no reason to believe there's something wrong (baby is moving a lot, and as long as the NST goes well tomorrow, we assume all is fine), it's safer to play it safe.

The unknown, the constant reevaluating and planning and replanning and trying not to plan at all...it's exhausting. But tomorrow is another day (I remind myself) and overall, the days have been going nicely. We're doing things, even if we're not doing all the things on my checklist. There will be time for that (I remind myself) when Will feels better. When Margie's not coughing so much she can't sleep well alone. We will get through the chores and the piles and the house will start to feel ready. Picking up baby gear from the storage will count as an essential errand (gotta have the carseat), and hopefully one of us will feel well enough to pick it up in the next week or so.

It's hard to stay hopeful, unless I'm just burying my head in the sand and pretending that this is all normal and fine, and I don't think too much about how long it will last or what will happen when the baby is ready to come. It's all ok living in the moment, but I'm a planner and we have some major changes coming. For now, I'll try to channel my inner Elsa (Margie would approve). This feels a bit too optimistic for my mood, but maybe it'll rub off on me.

Weird times

It's been almost a year since I last posted. It's been a busy year, I guess, but frankly, I just haven't made time to blog. I've had ideas, but not inspiration. I've been meaning to write in a journal for the new baby (hi, oh yeah, I'm 36 weeks pregnant), and have completely failed. This pregnancy has been so different from the last one, from physical stuff (more and different aches and pains) to mental (so much more tired, so many feelings about how our lives will change). I haven't been documenting this pregnancy nearly as much or as often as the last one, and I feel like this poor kid is already getting the short end of the stick in terms of attention. And in these weird times, well, there's a new and added complication.

There is so much information flowing around, most of it terrifying, and I have to force myself to close Twitter and stop reading news frequently throughout the day. The uncertainty is what gets me. I do best when I have a plan, and it's impossible to make a plan right now - not a real one, anyway. It's hard for me to live one day at a time, especially when we're physically isolated from our friends, family, and local community. It's weird to imagine this going on for months or years, each of us isolated in our own homes with just our nuclear family units, afraid of and unable to help each other in person. We'll find a new way of living; we are already trying to start. Of course.

Today was our first day at home in this new world. We hightailed it up to a friend's house in Tahoe this weekend - postponing the inevitable, maybe. There was a big snowstorm expected, and we thought it would be good to get out of town for a few days, try out our new Subaru, and just kind of hide from Coronavirus for a little bit. It was beautiful and we are so so lucky to have had that option. But as of last night, we're home and getting ready to adjust to a new normal.

We're tired. Will wasn't feeling well today, and like I said, I'm 36 weeks pregnant, and even though Margie was unbelievably adorable almost every minute of the day, there were still tough tantrum-y moments and missed naps and physical and mental exhaustion...it was a hard day, even though almost all of it was charming and fun and very mellow. I don't know what we would have done if we had to work, or if Margie was school-age and had to keep up with classwork. So many parent-friends are now in the position of having to work from home while also homeschooling their kids, without knowing whether or when things will go back to normal.

I keep hearing of schools announcing that they're closing for the rest of the year. I don't know what that will mean for our preschool and daycare situation, but it's unnerving. Mostly because it seems so...permanent, and so far off, and so hard, even though we are in a pretty ok spot to handle something like that. As it is, I'm off on maternity leave until mid-August. Will's work has been pretty flexible so far (they gave staff 3 weeks paid time off in light of school closures), and likely will continue to be. We have a comfortable home, stable income to support our family, access to food, etc. We will adapt. We will be fine. We are lucky. Extremely lucky.

But this is, as everyone keeps saying, weird times. What if this continues for a year? What if it becomes the new normal? There's so much unknown. And today, despite having two relatively healthy parents home and not working, with one relatively easygoing, cheerful, and easily-entertained kid, I felt so overwhelmed and confused that it felt like the right time to resurrect the old blog. I need a place to write down what we're doing, how we're adapting. To count our blessings and keep track of time.

So, some highlights from today:
- stayed in bed until well after 8am
- baked egg-free banana muffins (including a hunger-induced meltdown when I didn't leave her a big enough scoop of batter to eat because I was using it to fill the muffin liners she told me to fill)
- played wild and crazy puppet show games with Margie's farm animal puppets (often reenacting storylines from Daniel Tiger but with farm animal characters)
- watched videos of penguins wandering around an aquarium
- did not really nap, but did have some lovely snuggles
- unpacked some of our Tahoe bags and a box of diapers and wipes
- made pizza for dinner
- roleplayed/talked through the story of Frozen 2, many, many, many times (for example: "I'm so sad because our mommy and daddy died, yeah, they died, it's so sad. I wish they could be alive again. I gived you some of my magic so we can go on an adventure together to Ahtohallen and learn about my magic. I want to live with you in our castle in Arendelle so we can always be together, because we are sisters.")
- made bread dough to bake tomorrow

There's so much more to do - our house is filled with boxes and bags, and I have lots of ideas for ways we could spend our days at home. But when I write out the highlights and not just the task-based accomplishments, I realize that our day was quite full. There's no rush to do everything in one day, or even one week (though I felt some internalized pressure to be productive on day 1 instead of starting off with a "lost" day or something). The reality is that we'll likely be in this for weeks or even months, and I should take some time to slow down and adjust to the new reality instead of jumping into "fixing" it with productivity.

We have a long list of things to do to get ready for the baby, and we've told Margie that we're on an extra special long spring break to spend time with our families, take care of our bodies and be healthy, and get ready for baby brother's arrival. So far, she's asked if "since everybody is having time with their families and not going to school, can we have a friend over to play or scooter in the neighborhood?" And I told her that everyone's plan right now is to spend special time with their own families, but maybe another time we could see a friend. We're planning on a lot of FaceTime and special projects around the house, and deploying Daniel Tiger, Sesame Street, and of course, Frozen 2 as needed. We'll see. One day at a time. Weird times indeed.