Things You Might See Differently Once You Have Little Kids

Caring for little kids is a bit of a big deal, so of course, they'll change how you see certain things. Here's a few thoughts on what may seem different once they're in your life:

LEAVING THE HOUSE

The first step to leaving the house is getting yourself ready, which has been a piece of cake since you were old enough to tie your own shoes. With more kids, you just add more steps--step one for you to get ready, step two a child, step three another child, and so on. Simple.

Now cue the fights when the child doesn’t want that shirt, or those pants, or those shoes. There’s the younger child who does want to wear shoes, but can’t put them on by herself; and then there’s the oldest child, who CAN put them on, but now doesn’t want to. And then there’s the baby, all giggly and drooly in the carseat in the front room, spitting up or pooping quite happily right after you buckled him in. Or maybe it’s the middle child who smells suspicious as you open the door.

Or maybe it’s both. It happens.

Eventually you get to the step that involves the diaper bag and everything you can’t forget: two sets of diapers, diaper cream, two sets of back-up clothes, wipes, changing pad, a pacifier, snacks, drinks, nursing cover, burp rag, cell phone, wallet, sanity (I often forget this one).

Then we reach what I consider my nemesis. . .nemeses?. . .the carseats. You wrestle all the straps and snaps and buckles and you win, eventually.

By the time you reach your destination, you’re wondering why you’re not in Jamaica for a four-day vacation, because you certainly spent enough time and effort to get you there.

But no, it’s only Wal-Mart.

POOP

Right from day one, you’re immersed in a new world of poop. You clean the last bout of sticky tar-like poop off your baby’s little bum. You keep track of dirty diapers to make sure your baby’s healthy. In the days that follow, poop will cover blankets, your clothes, your couch. It will fill baby’s diaper and beyond. It’ll turn baby’s back or tummy orange.

As your child grows, your new worst nightmare is your child squirming and rolling during a diaper change, threatening to land that poopy bum on anything but the changing pad.

Your schedule revolves around their poop. Smell a little something at family dinner? Time for a change! Got your toddler all set with clothes changed, shoes on, and heading out the door? Their favorite time to poop! Missed a call on your phone or at the door while you were cleaning up the yuck? It’s nothing personal. Want to go swimming but your little one hasn’t taken care of their daily business yet? Might want to wait on that.

It just gets better when more pooping bums come along. On some mornings they all go at the same time, so by the time I’m done with it all, I can barely walk down the hallway without keeling over.

Then there’s potty training. . . . . . . . . .that’s all I’m gonna say.

Oh, and diarrhea. You want to torture someone, you make them clean up a kid’s bum when they got the runs.

And part of pooping is tooting. With each young child comes a new toot machine set on full autopilot. Beware those bums.

BODILY FLUIDS

Then there’s the lovelier mess of bodily fluids. Before I had kids, dealing with snot and vomit was disgusting. Now after having kids. . .it’s still disgusting.

I would vote vomit as the worst. My husband is the primary cleaner of such messes--especially when I’m pregnant and can’t even enter the room--and I probably owe him my soul for that.

Then there’s the yellow fluids that come from down below. It’s not so bad to deal with until the child is potty training and it gets. . .everywhere. It’s the hardest to clean when it’s on furniture and carpet. After a while you almost start to miss when it was contained in a diaper. Almost.

Spit-up is one of those baby fluids that everyone says you just get used to. It’s gooey and smelly and inconvenient, but they are right: you do.

Where runny noses are concerned, I’ve gotten a lot of exercise chasing my kids around the house with a tissue, praying I can wipe the snot before their hands do. Three-year-olds are decent at grabbing tissues before disaster strikes. But in two and unders, since you can’t quarantine them in their room all day, your couches are gonna get it. First the snotty child runs and faceplants on the cushions as she pulls herself up. Then her nose will itch and she’s got this perfect couch at face level, so why not.

But since having kids, wiping runny noses is as routine as brushing hair out of my face. Ya just roll with it. Which leads me to. . .

SICKNESS

I once thought there was no way my kids could be contagious if they’d had a runny nose for weeks and weeks. I mean seriously, transferable sickness can’t last that long, right? But after observing my snotty kids interacting with others, and other snotty kids interacting with mine, I’ve learned the truth: THEY’RE ALL CONTAGIOUS. ALL THE TIME. They’re contagious with the Runny Nose Virus (RNV).

This virus usually doesn’t affect their moods. Maybe they’ll have one lethargic day, or one or two hard nights of poor sleeping. But it’s enough to keep you confined to your sickness-riddled house. There is no going to the park, (especially indoor play-places), or the library, church, that exercise gym with the daycare, or friends’ houses. For our family, the only outlet is going to our parents’ houses, where we cross our fingers and hope that good adult hygiene will protect parents from RNV.

Beyond RNV, our kids will only throw up or have a fever once or twice a year, if they’re lucky. On occasion those runny noses morph into infections. Then there’s the issue of us the parents getting sick. Remember those sick days when all you did was sleep in your bed, or lie on the couch watching TV shows with a box of tissues by your side? Yeah, those days are out--or at least come much less often.

SAFETY

Safety takes on a whole new meaning once you start caring for fragile little humans who will crawl right off a bed because they don’t know that gravity is a thing.

To protect these little ones, parents must develop a degree of paranoia. The potential threats are everywhere, and having developed safety awareness long ago, it can be hard for parents to nail down every risk to a child. Just think of the heart-stopping trouble a child can cause once they learn to open doors. There’s the first day your child hears the garage door opening and goes “Daddy!” just like normal, but then you hear the door to the garage open--and it takes approximately 2.67 seconds to imagine the child running into the garage as the car pulls in, and terror strikes.

But just a day prior, you never would have pictured such a threat because the child had never opened the door to the garage before.

The best age for triggering heart attacks is when the child starts walking and climbing. Children develop mobility far faster than common sense, which isn’t all that fair to their caretakers. One second, you’re showing her the way to the slide on the playground; the next, she’s tumbling off the playground because she tried to climb down the ladder like you did, and very much couldn’t do it, but it never occurred to you that she’d even try.

There are things children can fall off of, and things that can fall on them.

There are electrical sockets and things that should not be ingested.

There are hot things and sharp things.

There is lots of water. Sometimes.

There are cars outside.

Personally, just writing about this triggers my paranoia and anxiety. It’s daunting to think of how much brainpower goes towards protecting young ones. And not just brainpower either, but also emotional power. I apologize now to anyone who may have endured my over-reaction to something small that happened to my child--I’m still learning to control my mama bear. But if I happen to be pregnant when such a thing happens, you might want to run.

This part of parenting is not fun. But I pray every day, and I observe that the human race hasn’t died out because of dangers befalling children, and my heart goes out to those who have experienced the greatest of losses to ever be felt by a parent.

“Making the decision to have a child -- it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” -Elizabeth Stone

Protecting our children becomes a part of us, from day one. I can’t blame any parent for being overprotective, and the level at which parents take a step back as their children grow older will be different for all of us.

YOURSELF

Children are not adults. (Just in case you were wondering.) Therefore, they don’t see things the way our adult brains, and all the adult brains around us, see things. That includes us.

Children don’t judge, for one thing. They don’t see flaws or societal expectations. They won’t constantly tell you that you need to have this, or be this, or do this, in order to be happy. They don’t need our perfection--just our love and best efforts.

You may see a reflection of yourself in your young child. You’ll see the way you respond to things, like when you’re mad; or really happy; or some other habit or quirk that your child picked up. It’s bizarre to see because we’re not used to it--adults just don’t go around mimicking each other. (Weird, I know.) No one can show you how you react to certain things better than your child can. It’s a unique way to evaluate your own behaviors.

Children are little bundles of innocence and forgiveness and love, and to have their love is one of the purest forms of joy.

Sleep Deprived and Depressed

I am depressed.

The sort that comes from sleep deprivation.

It starts when baby won’t go to sleep before 11:00pm, so there’s no going to bed early. Then his 5 and 6-hour stretches of straight sleep are broken. Then the 3-hour stretch that follows his nightly snack is broken.

It comes without warning and lasts for days. Sometimes weeks.

I handle it okay at first. I function--I take care of everyone, even clean here and there. Get dinner kinda going before hubby gets home. Leave the house occasionally. Take 3-hour naps on the weekends when we’re not out and about. But all too quickly, what energy I have left slips away. My body begs for a long stretch of deep sleep, or maybe even sleeping all day in the manner of Rip Van Winkle until full rest has seeped into every inch of my bones.

But it doesn’t happen. Too much crying baby at night, too much juggling of three kids during the day to take a good nap. I even have neighbors and family who help when they can, and if baby complies, I do get a nap. Naps mean I can eat dinner without falling asleep.

Yet night comes again and the need is still there. Pushing myself out of bed the first couple times is hard enough, and each time after that is impossible. My hubby even helps later in the mornings when he can.

Still the struggle, every night, until my transformation into a zombie is complete.

And you know, zombies can’t do much. I’ve been one now for many days. The house needs dusting, vacuuming, sweeping. The kitchen floor is covered in sticky spots. My husband has cooked our meals for a long time. He’s done the bulk of the dishes. He’s done the last few loads of laundry. He’s put the girls to bed night after night. He’s freakin’ amazing.

And what have I done? I kill bugs that snuck inside the house. I pull weeds in 90 degree heat while the kids play in the shade because we don’t get out of bed before 10:00. What hurts is that there’s so much I want to do. I want to sing and dance with the girls. I want to help them learn and grow. I want to clean. I want to exercise. I want to leave the house and play at parks and play-places and the library and everywhere. I’m home all day with the kids--it feels like I have all the time in the world to do what I want.

Except sleep.

This barrier in my life is an invisible one. I go from tending need to need to need to need, pulled down by a weight of exhaustion. I can barely get myself to eat on some days, but I do--that I must do. I’ve been in this boat before, and I sank into a new world of being underweight. It took a long time to recover from that ding on my health.

I never wish for my kids to go away. It’s just that I start to break down, ignoring the simplest tasks beyond feeding and cleaning my little ones. I get short with them. I live on the couch. Soon I want to escape it all for just a little while, and go where there are no needs to tend, not even my own. I feel like a failure and I want my old self back and I want to cry and cry.

I am depressed.

But I push through. The love for my family never erodes. My little ones still love me, my 3-year-old forgives me. And I thank my lucky stars that I know, beyond a doubt, that this kind of depression will pass, because someday my baby will sleep again.

All I can do is prepare for that day when I really wake up. (Prepare mentally anyway, while I’m laying on the couch eating and drinking from play-food the kids bring me to keep me alive.) When I’m not a zombie anymore, and I have energy again, I will exercise and play and live again.

They've got the right idea...

And Then There Were Three

I LOVE BEING A MOTHER.

I would never give up the trials and pain that come attached to motherhood if it also meant giving up my kids. They, and my husband, are my everything.

For sure, I’m the kind of person who benefits from talking about parenting struggles with others. I recharge and reconnect beyond the rut I’m probably feeling stuck in at the time. This is especially true in times of sleep deprivation or hormonal chaos, the times when emotions defy my own logic, the times when I need the voices and understanding of others to get me through.

But even with all the venting, and complaining, and bemoaning of the stories churning unwritten in my head, I am happy devoting time and energy to my children. The stories can wait. The rapid growing of my little ones will not.

So, I have three kids now:

My cutie pies

Ariana, 3 ½ years old

Ariana is our toddler caught between the world of a proud big girl and a little girl still learning to deal with emotions and her rapidly developing existence. She has two ways of dealing with frustrating situations: either crying out “Fine!” and shaking her little fists before stomping off to her room, or having a complete screaming meltdown. But she’s getting better at calming herself down after getting so worked up.

Her imagination is vast. One of my favorite moments was watching Ariana really play with her animals for the first time. It was different than pretend-play with toy dishes; her animals talked to each other and carried out a story in her head. To this day, her animals remain her favorite toy. She can entertain herself really well.

She's got at least 5 different kinds of toys here (before the animal craze)

Rocker girl

At the same time, she’s learning more and more how to play with Brielle. They run together and play with toys together and scream merrily throughout the house together. Ariana even gives Brielle blocks to play with in her crib on mornings when their mother is sleep-deprived and glued to the bed. Ariana is also quick to tell me of Brielle’s wrongdoings--including falsely accusing her at times, but what can ya do--and helps keep her safe. She also helps take care of Levi, like giving him his binky or singing to him if he’s crying.

When she’s not angry, she’s quite polite with her “please” and “thank-you’s.” She likes to be clean and kinda freaks out if she spills something on herself. She doesn’t mind getting dirty outside though, which is a good thing, and she always washes her hands of her own accord when she’s done (score!). Ariana also seems to do well socially when she’s in a comfortable environment. She’s made friends several times at the park, even with a little girl once who I don’t think spoke much English. At other times she’s quite shy, which is perfectly fine and suits her rather cautious nature. Ariana’s not the kind of kid who bounces off the walls and furniture like she’s in a pinball machine, but rather the kind who loves to run and outlasts most of the kids she runs with.

Look Brielle, it's a boy...

Helped Daddy build his humongous Lego Saturn V Rocket

Some of Ariana’s favorite things:

• Running around and hide-and-seek
• Singing (Moana songs are her current favs)
• Drawing
• Books
• Building Blocks
• Her animals and farmhouse
• Sofia the First, Little Einstein’s, My Little Pony, Curious George
• Rockets
• Going up and down slides
• Playing with friends and family

Current funny language thing: she refers to anything that happened in the past as “yesterday.” “Yesterday” could mean this morning, or a month ago, or actually yesterday. Also, she still says “Yord” instead of “Lord.” The Yord commanded Nephi. . .

Ariana and I drive each other crazy at times, which makes sense since this is her first time being a three-year-old and my first time dealing with a three-year-old, but we also have a relationship of loving and forgiving. She loves her family and is our big sweetheart.

From bad hair day...

...to doing Mommy's hair

Brielle, 1 ½ years old

Brielle is our mimic. She repeats a ton of what we say, even picking out words she’s never heard before from a long sentence. She says words in such a freakin’ cute accent that you just want to repeat it back to her in exactly the same cute way. (Like when she says “Google.” Ahh the cuteness!!) Sometimes I have to remind myself to say words the real way, and not her cutesy way. She also imitates a lot of what we do, especially if it involves dancing or shouting--even if she has no idea what we’re shouting about.

With her exploding vocabulary, Brielle is having a blast experimenting with things and names. She’ll be playing happily and all of a sudden shout “Daddy!” because she spotted him in a picture. Then she’ll happily point out the rest of the family in the picture AND in person if we’re there. Certain things are like “squirrels” to Brielle, as in, she sees them and forgets everything else as she shouts:

“Birdie! Birdie!”
“Airplane!”
“MOON!!!!!” (Moon beats airplane.)

The best thing ever is when she’s crying and all of a sudden she yells “airplane!” and quite literally forgets to be sad. These are the times when I think, “Thank you, God, for sending an airplane.”

Even though she’s a mimic, she still has her own personality. Ever since she was young she’s had a tendency to just stare at people, and that hasn’t gone away. When it’s crowded she likes to just people-watch. But once she’s comfortable with someone, she likes to be around them and show them some new exciting thing. She’s become very affectionate and loves to give kisses and hugs. Her favorite thing to do before naptime and bedtime is give hugs and kisses to me, Ariana, and Levi, then happily shout “Goodnight!” as I carry her to her crib. She could kiss Levi’s little head all day long if I let her. She grows very concerned when he’s crying, making sure to tell me “crying!” if I’m doing anything other than attending to him when he’s sad. She tries to give him his binky, but is still working on not jamming it into his mouth. She has at least learned to throw his blanket over his legs instead of his face.

Are ya kidding me with this hat, Mom?

If Brielle is freaking out too much, or having a very contrary toddler day where she fights me on EVERYTHING, then I’ll put her in her crib and she calms down. She just needs her space sometimes, like we all do. She also likes to play with Ariana and is getting better at it as she grows older. The two love to run from one end of the house to the other while pushing toy strollers. Of course, when she’s feeling mischievous, she’ll grab one of Ariana’s toys and run around the house with a frustrated Ari chasing her. It’d be hilarious if I didn’t feel so sorry for Ari at the same time.

If Brielle is frustrated with a toy, she chucks it (we’re still working on this). If she’s frustrated because I told her no, then she looks for something to throw or knock over like Godzilla--and she looks at me the whole time as though saying “See what I’m doing? You made me do this!” The funniest time was when she first tried to knock over Levi’s rock ‘n’ play, which failed; then she tried to knock over the farmhouse and didn’t push it hard enough; then she tried again and finally got the farmhouse knocked down. By then, her failures had quenched her rebellious spirit and her look seemed to say “Uh, what was I upset about again?”

Ariana dressed her up as a princess

Reading on her favorite chair

Brielle’s favorite phrases:
“There you go” or “Here you go”
“Hey, Bee-bye!” (Levi)
“I do it!” (As in, let me do it!)
“See it?”

Some of Brielle’s favorite things:

• Running around
• Building Blocks
• Swings
• Airplanes and birdies
• Rocks
• Books
• Closing doors
• Kissing Levi
• Talking

Brielle loves her family. She is so excited every time Daddy comes home, and will run up to give me a hug if I’ve been gone for a while (like taking a 3-hour nap on the weekends…) After she sees me in the morning and we’ve taken care of the usual morning stuff, she’ll ask about Levi and go try to find him to give him a morning kiss. She is our little sweetheart.

Hey, Bee-Bye!

Levi, 2 ½ months old

Levi is our squeaky, smiley baby boy. He loves to smile at people, especially his family, and will coo to whoever is talking to him. He’s pretty chill during most of the day, which is nice because his naps aren’t super long--only his morning nap reaches an hour. He loves being held, though I’m not sure how much he loves us kissing his little head and cheeks all the time. ;)

Go Batman!

Wuz up

He tends to poop once every few days, which is actually pretty nice, as long as I get him to a changing pad in time for when he does go (otherwise LOOK OUT). He’s only shot pee at me ONE TIME, so I’m either a pro at this changing stuff, or he’s just more polite than his sisters were (Ariana was the worst).

His night-sleeping is decent. For a few weeks now, he’s usually gone at least 5 straight hours of sleeping after entering what I call “night mode.” The tricky part is he enters night mode anywhere from 10:00 to midnight, which changes the time when he wakes at night. But that usually guarantees at least 4 or so hours of straight sleep for me, so waking up in the middle of the night isn’t too horrendous. We’re usually awake for 30-45 minutes depending on how much he eats.

Levi's favorite things:

• Family
• Food
• Smiling

My Kids

My kids are my joy. Yeah, sometimes there’s rain and lots and lots of mud, but after that comes the rainbow. And I’m happy that in our house, we have a lot more rainbows than mud.

Love my boys

Love

Levi's Birth & Delivery, & My Recovery

A couple months ago, our third child and first boy was born! Levi Edward Watts, 6 lbs 9 oz. As has been the case with each child, the entire experience was no walk in the park--more like playing hopscotch over a volcano.

Laborious Labor
Contractions began eight days before his due date at 7:00ish in the morning. They were gnarly things that wrapped around from my front to my bum. They stayed far enough apart that Clayton could go to our 9:00am church and conduct the choir for the Easter Program (proof that God loves his music, right?), and shortly after he got back, they were five minutes apart and off we went to the hospital.

While I was all curled up and moaning with each contraction, the anesthesiologist stabbed me with the epidural and did his thing. An hour later, it still wasn’t working. He gave me another dose, and after fifteen more minutes of contraction pain and failed medicine, he realized he had to completely redo it. By this point I’d been hit with intense contractions every five minutes for more than two hours, and when the pain of him stabbing me with the second epidural hit, I broke down. I cut off the circulation in Clayton’s hand from squeezing it while I cried and waited for the pain to stop. The anesthesiologist, who had been quite chatty the first time, said nothing this time. I think he was a bit flummoxed.

Finally I had the peaceful satisfaction of looking at the monitor and seeing the spikes of a contraction that I couldn’t feel. Hallelujah!

After a few hours passed, I progressed from a 4. . .to a 5. I wanted to cry whenever the nurse came in and checked me and I was still only at a 5. But at last, the doctor herself came in and broke my water, AND they gave me Pitocin. I then zoomed from a 5 to a 10 in fifteen minutes. (Would’ve been nice if they’d done that sooner!)

Delivery: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
The Good: Levi came out in less than fifteen minutes of pushing.

The Bad: I asked the doctor if I had hemorrhoids, because I’d had those with every birth so far. She said, maybe some internal ones. I literally thought, oh that doesn’t sound so bad. But as she sewed me up she said things like “You’d better never have an 8-pound baby…” and “You’re the perfect candidate to be induced early so your baby doesn’t grow too big.” Sounded ominous.

The Ugly: I got a third-degree tear. I tore so deep I tore my freakin’ external anal sphincter.

Quick Lesson on Human Anatomy
Let’s talk about the external sphincter. Besides just being a funny word, this sphincter is a muscle that keeps stuff from coming out of you when you’re not ready. It’s what helps you keep those toots in when you’re feeling polite. It’s also what gives stuff the final push; when things move and you feel an “oomph” amount of pressure and then you’re in the clear. Our sphincters definitely have the crappiest jobs in our body (har har), but they’re very critical to our comfort and health.

And my anal sphincter was broken. Which, by the way, they told me nothing about. But more on that later.

My First Bad Reaction to a Medicine
I was very nauseous after delivering Levi. I was also in a ton of pain thanks to my hugely swollen lady bits, the hemorrhoids (which weren’t pushing through to the outside yet), and my broken bum. So I was on painkillers around the clock--an opioid with codeine (which makes you constipated--remember that!) and Motrin. To counter the codeine, I was also taking stool softener pills.

To counter the nausea, I took Zofran. I had taken it twice with no problems. But the third time, something freaky happened. The nausea vanished, but I became really dizzy. My muscles felt really heavy and I could barely lift my hand. My body felt so awful and weird that I started crying. And then it felt like there was a weight on my chest and I couldn’t inhale a full gulp of air. At that point I began shouting “I can’t breathe,” which in case you’re wondering, are the three magic words for sending a bunch of people flying into the room.

I confused everyone because my vitals were fine. No change in blood pressure, no spiked fever. The top nurse thought I was freaking out over nothing. “It’s probably an anxiety attack, do you suffer from anxiety?” Uh, no lady. “Maybe it’s a panic attack.” Aren’t those the same thing? “Do you have asthma?” Nope, never. I began to be afraid as I lay there unable to breathe properly or hardly move my body.

Eventually they left me alone, though they kept an eye on my vitals. Clayton had been gone at the start of this episode and came in near the end. He massaged my chest and arms, and gradually the heaviness vanished and the pressure left my chest. After that, the pharmacist came in and told me she believed I’d experienced a rare reaction to the Zofran called “bronchial spasms.” These happen when oxygen suddenly leaves the muscles. They’re not life-threatening, she said, but can be very scary. I was so grateful she validated what I’d felt that I would have jumped up and done a happy dance if I hadn’t just pushed out a baby.

Recovering at Home
I was in a lot of pain. When I didn’t have the codeine painkiller in my body, I could barely move and worse, hardly sit. Nursing was awful because I had to sit upright and directly on my bum, and no pillow or donut could help. I knew by the end of the first week that I would run out of the painkiller, so that Friday I went to the doctor for more. I still didn’t know at that point that my sphincter was torn. In hindsight, I imagine that when the nurse told the doctor I hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet, he knew I couldn’t keep taking the painkiller with codeine--so he gave me a different one without it.

All I knew then was that when I brought the medicine home and saw it was different, I was so disappointed and worried. I tried the new painkiller but as I feared, it didn’t work at all. By then their office was closed and I was terrified of facing the weekend without something to ease the pain. In the end, I asked Clayton to go to the store and buy me a flexible ice pack, which ended up being the only thing (besides hot baths) that offered me relief from the pain.

Pushing Rocks Past a Broken Sphincter
When the pressure hit my bum, it was terrible. I tried to go for an hour and there was pressure and pain the entire time. You can’t really push much with a broken sphincter, see. Plus the area was covered in hemorrhoids so that sucked. Eventually enough came out that I realized how hard it was and how much trouble I was in.

The next time I tried to go was one of the worst experiences of my life. The best way to describe it is to picture a rock with a spike on it trying to come out and getting stuck in that “oomph” spot. The pressure and pain were unbearable, and I cried and cried and cried. I didn’t know how to make it stop. Eventually, of course, things resolved for the time being, but it was bad.

In desperation, I threw all kinds of stuff into my body: Milk of Magnesia (ewwww), the stool softener pills, a stool softener powder, fiber pills, and a suppository that was supposed to make me have a bowel movement. NONE of it worked, at least not for days, and certainly not in time for my body to try and shove things out again. That next time I had to go was just as awful; I was yelling from the pain.

But at long last, my body did its job, and I was able to get a break for a while. I even started to drink prune juice to help transition my body off all the softeners. After a few weeks I could do a little more each day around the house and with the kids. My sphincter is still healing--the doctor said it could take months to heal all the way, isn’t that grand--but I can function, and I’m so crazy grateful for that.

Every Experience is Different
There is no one-size-fits-all for delivering babies. Our bodies are so different and individual, so our experiences are also (though it is a great feeling when someone has experienced the exact same craziness as you!) And yet, there’s a struggle of some kind for ALL of us when it comes to this baby business, so we can always relate to each other that way. Go mommies!

Another Update: Brielle (6 months) & Ariana (2 1/2 years)

So I’m a mom of two little girls--the same number of kids my parents have. Sometimes I’ll look at Ariana and imagine her as me when I was toddling around my parents’ house. Back when I was the kid.

But Ariana isn’t me. She’s a whole other little person, and I’m the mom now. It’s a trippy thing.

Amidst the frustration, the sacrifices, and the uncertainty, there’s one thing that always feels real, that I always know for sure: I love my children fiercely. That, and I’m forever ruined whenever I watch anything where a child and parent are being taken apart from each other. I will always cry.

So, who are these two little ones?

Brielle

Brielle is a very happy 6-month-old. Her smiles come easy and they’re super contagious. When she’s just woken up or is about to come out of the carseat, her smile is usually accompanied by an excited baby jig. She always coos right after she sneezes.

Like her sister before her, she’s quite the chubsters--complete with a roly-poly baby bod, a double chin, and chubby cheeks that we kiss fifty times a day. She’s in size 4 diapers because the 3’s just weren’t cutting it. Which, to her credit, is a size smaller than Ariana was in by this age. (They don’t have chubby cheeks on just their faces, I suppose.)

Right now Brielle is doing lots of typical baby stuff: she can roll over, sit up, do crunches, and drool like a pro. She likes baths and getting her diaper changed. She also likes to whack me in the face while she’s nursing. She likes watching the sun’s reflection off my phone screen as I shine it around the room. Above all, she loves watching Ariana.

Brielle has been a trooper fighting cold after cold. While Ariana was hardly sick at all until she was two years old, Brielle has fought a runny nose, watery eyes, and phlegmy throat several times already. She cries when we wipe her nose, then immediately tries to be happy again, bless her little heart.

Brielle really only cries these days before she falls asleep. She doesn’t seem to like the pacifier as much as Ariana did. She’ll chew on it, but not suck on it for comfort. Maybe that’ll change once she’s moved on from sucking on everything else in sight, but for now, the pacifier isn’t the guaranteed bringer of peace that it was with Ari.

Ariana

I have to throw this crazy fact out there: since having a baby and being a stay-at-home mom, there is no human being I have seen as often, or spent as much time with, as Ariana. She is my child, my job, my friend, my constant companion. Of course, we’ve added Brielle to our group of constant interaction too. But it just blows my mind how connected I have been the last couple years with this little person.

Ariana is 2 ½-years-old. She is a very easy toddler. I appreciate it since I grew up hearing from my mom what an easy child I was. So the curse of “I hope you have a child just like you!” has been great so far. We’ll just see what Ari’s like as a teenager (sorry, Mom)…

Ariana communicates very well. I can even tell when she’s trying to tell me something new for the first time and her mind is working desperately to find what words to say. I’m always impressed what she comes up with. She’s happy to help and do grown-up things. As children do, she likes to imitate, and will even copy me when I’m exercising. She is a sweetheart who will give people a hug good-bye when she leaves after only being around them a few times.

Ariana goes to sleep at night really well, as she has since she was 3 ½-months-old. However, she has resisted naps during the day for the last few weeks, so, yikes. (Apparently I stopped naps early as a toddler too. The curse again?) She’s also a very good eater. She eats most everything I make, including stuff I don't eat myself. (Mushrooms on pizza, for example. Ye-uck.)

Ariana LOVES to sing. (Singing is synonymous with “Watts.”) She knows several primary songs and is starting to pick up on Disney songs. It’s so cute hearing a child sing a song when they don’t understand most of the words and are largely just imitating the sounds of the words. (Like instead of saying, I always want to be with my own family, she literally says I want to be fuuuunny…)

Ariana is a Pixar and DreamWorks fan. Her absolute favorite movie is How to Train Your Dragon. Other movies go through cycles: in the winter it was Frozen and “Jack Frost” from Rise of the Guardians. She loves princesses, Toothless (any dragon really) and Curious George. Oh, and rockets and space. (Clayton's taught her well.)

Ariana loves building things and figuring things out. She likes puzzles and taking bubble baths, and playing hide-and-seek and chase. She’s independent, as 2-year-olds are. One of her favorite phrases is “I want to do it!” And sometimes it’s the simplest little things she wants to do. But she takes what she can.

She loves Brielle. She asks about her each morning if she doesn’t see her, and gives her hugs and kisses at night. She’ll even sing to Brielle sometimes when I put Brielle down for a nap. She’s as sisterly as they come--including when Brielle touches her toys and she freaks out. Even then, we can usually get her to share with Brielle. Eventually.

Speaking the Ari Talk

“Mom, hard pajamas princess!” (Meaning, her princess pajama pants are too long for her to climb into her booster seat by herself without slipping.)

How Ariana says words with “L” sounds:
Brielle: Bee-air
Smile: Smi-er
Family: Funny (“I Have a Funny Here on Earth”)
Abigail: Abigairs
Bubbles: Bubbers
Puzzle: Puzzer

Example of life with a toddler:
Ari: Mommy! A paplane!
Me: Oh, you see an airplane! Can you say air?
Ari: Air.
Me: Plane.
Ari: Plane!
Me: Now say airplane.
Ari: Airplane!
Me: Very good!
Ari: Mommy, I see a paplane!
Me: Arghff.

Basically I just really, really love my family. I'm so grateful for my hubby and the opportunity to be the Mommy of these beautiful girls.