Welcome, Baby Sister

I will eventually write out a birth story, but wanted to share that Finn, who was adamant all along that I was having a baby sister, was right. With joy and love we welcomed Mary Adelaide Hidalgo into the family. Our third baby, our first girl, a total surprise. 

This video was taken several weeks ago but for the last few months when asked "baby sister or brother" or "baby girl or baby boy," (and regardless of order asked) Finn always said I was having a baby girl, a baby sister.

Maybe we should have him buy a lotto ticket tonight!

Welcome, sweet Mary - you're so loved.

Mary Adelaide Hidalgo

December 16, 2013

6lbs, 12oz  18.25in

7:39pm

Finn at 2.5

Yesterday our little Finn officially turned two and a half! I know people often say that whatever stage you are in, that is your favorite, but I that's a lie. I think it's hard to really pinpoint a favorite because they are all so different and all so wonderful and all so challenging at any given point. Two and a half year old Finn makes me miss baby Finn. I miss the little baby who slept on Mama's chest, who still had (some) cute baby pudge, who didn't know how to throw a temper tantrum or what the word "no" meant. But I also LOVE how fun Finn is right now. I love that he likes to help Mama, he wants to cook or clean, and is becoming independent enough that he wants to try things for himself instead of having us do it for him - like take off his clothes, put on his shoes, etc. I love how in love with Dada he is. He asks Miles things like "Dadda go play?" "Dadda build train track?" "Do it again!" (when Miles is throwing him up in the air), "Dadda read book" and it just is the sweetest thing to witness.

Finn loves learning about the world around him. He likes to narrate for you whatever you are doing, "Mama making da waffles," "Mama driving the car" and sometimes will call you out in the process, "Dadda fart. Dadds stinky. Dadda need to go potty?" (bahaha - that did just happen the other day. Anytime Finn farts he says "Finley fa-ted" and so we ask him if he's stinky and needs to go potty. I guess he felt he needed to do the same to Miles). He points out what he sees "see dat digger! see dat back hoe" and wants you to explain things he doesn't understand. I don't mind taking time to explain things to him and try to understand what he's asking or what he's pointing to when he is curious about things as it's pretty amazing to see him learning and processing things. Potty training, on the other hand, proved to be a true test on my patience. Once he established that he could tell you he needed to go potty and was good at going in the potty, it was (is) hard for me not to lose it when he has an accident. Fortunately they are fewer and further between, but I have to take deep breathes in the moment and remember that he is only two and a half. Accidents happen. But sweet Jesus kid, I just asked you if you needed to go and you said no, you little liar! He is waking up with more and more dry pull-ups during naptime - in fact he hasn't had a wet one yet this week (knock on wood), but I don't think we will switch to underwear during naptime just yet.

As far as his naps go, he's still (fortunately!) napping about two hours each day and sleeping about 12 each night. I do not at all take that for granted and will miss when that changes. We are still waiting on his two year molars to pop through (ugh), He's roughly 25 pounds (lil peanut), wears 2T shirts and 18 month pants/shorts. I even have to ensure his pants have the adjustable waist as he is just so dang skinny! His vocabulary, sentence structure and overall intelligence amaze me constantly. He loves any and all trucks/cars/planes/etc, would watch "choo choo bideos" all day if you let him, and loves to run wild at the gym and park. Finn is sweet and gives hugs upon request, big and wet open mouth kisses, and still (though sadly not as much) requests the occasional "nuggle."

He also knows what time out is and has many a moments where he whines for no legitimate reason or throws a fit simply to throw a fit. He will let you know when he's "all done cying" and ready to move on though. But the whining - oh the whining is another test of my patience.

But two and a half years with this boy? So amazing. We are lucky, lucky parents.

"Biss it" = kiss it, as in make the monkey's owie all better

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{DIY} Maternity Pictures

When we were living in Georgia I had the same photographer who took my maternity pictures with Cale, also take maternity, delivery, and newborn pictures of Finn. She is an amazing photographer and has become a friend over the years. That same dear friend is coming to Texas to once again, capture images of our newest babe and our family. I cannot wait.

Because she will be here for (knock on wood!) the delivery and to get some newborn shots, we did not hire a photographer for any maternity pictures. But I still wanted some to document this important part of our life and my time with this baby, so I did a few DIY style where I just set the camera to a timer and snapped about a million in the hopes that I'd get a few decent ones. My two favorite were probably the ones I shared here. Then fortunately for me, my sister-in-law was willing to take some more pictures for us. With a little help of picMonkey I tweaked the colors, cropped the pictures, and voila! instant maternity pics on the cheap! 

 

 My SIL captured this picture, but my sweet friend Priscilla used her photoshop magic to clean it up.

 

   

   

 

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By the Numbers

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Over the span of five years I have been pregnant four times. I will give birth to three babies, two of them I hope we get to raise. And one who will always be missing. Always.

Numbers are really tricky when you've lost a child. I don't like referring to my kids in numbers because it gets complicated. As we draw closer to meeting this newest babe, I find I'm getting more and more sensitive to comments about numbers - and the incorrect usage of them. Finn will always be my second child, but he is my first living. But it's still hard when people say things along the lines of "getting ready for #2." I just wish we could refer to this baby as another baby. My third pregnancy, the third baby I carried for a brief couple months, doesn't feel to me like my third child. Maybe it's because that pregnancy was unfortunately too short. Or because I didn't give birth to that child or know anything about him/her. That will always be a could have been baby to me as opposed to a baby like Cale - a child I held and saw. Cale should have been. I don't know if that's right or wrong, but it is what it is and I've come to peace with how I view that pregnancy/baby. All that to say, when people (strangers) ask me if this is my first baby (when I'm not with Finn), I say no. Sometimes I smile and say "no, it's not" and leave it at that. Other times I say "no, it's my third."

In the weeks prior to Finn's arrival, I think people were good about ensuring Cale wasn't forgotten. Grated Cale's first birthday was also around the corner, but it was like everyone knew that I was about to have our second child, not our first. This time - it's a little different. Most people are still careful and sensitive to my own sensitivities, but I can't help but feel like there are a lot who think that, yet again, we are getting ready to have our second child. I get it - I hope this is our second living child, but that's why numbers are complicated and I'd rather just hear things about having another baby. I'd rather that despite the happy outcome that I HOPE we have soon, our first child never be forgotten.

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Date Night in Style

Being nine months pregnant for the third time in three and a half years can make you a pretty crabby person. Sometimes when I'm up late with heartburn or I wake up because my pelvis pops while I'm trying to roll over, I will look over at Miles - sweet, peacefully sleeping, mouth breathing Miles, and I just want to smother him with a pillow. Technically, he's the reason I'm so uncomfortable right now, but I need to remember what a good guy he can be when the moments of rage and jealousy hit me and I hate him for being able to sleep/walk/function with no pain. He scored some brownie points this past weekend, so that will buy him a few days.

Listen to this while reading if you really want to set the stage right.

  (Though I realize the car in the song and the car depicted below are not the same thing, but whatever).

Over the weekend Miles surprised me by planning a date night. He had arranged for some friends to watch Finn for a few hours so we could go to a nice restaurant. But he also had asked around and found a friend with a convertible he could borrow for the evening as riding in a convertible is on my 30 before 30 bucket list. I'm 99.9% sure I never have before, I've been racking my brain and really can't ever think of when I would have - hence the reason for adding this "goal" to the list.

Anyway, Miles is friends with a guy who has a '71 Toreno that he got back in high school when he mowed the lawn of an elderly neighbor who basically gifted him the car before passing away. 

So we traded cars for the evening and hooked up Finn's carseat to drive him literally two minutes up the street to our friends' house, but he was equally excited about his first convertible ride. "Going SO fast! Red con-burt-able go so fast." I guess with the wind in your hair, 15mph does seem fast. We traded cars before picking him up, so he only got the one ride - but it was cute (and totally bizarre) seeing him in a convertible.

Miles had his ipod set to some Creedence Clearwater and off we went. The ride to the restaurant was about 25 minutes and fortunately it was still 64 degrees out when we left. My hair was a little crazy when we arrived and because it had cooled down during dinner and was dark on the drive back, we put the top up - but it was still a lovely date - especially since it very well may be our last before le bebe.

For the record, major heartburn after that meal. I didn't hold it against Miles though. Lucky bastard.

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