So after a couple weeks of happy, lovey-dovey, I'm totally doing this mom-of-two thing posting, germs spread rampant all over our house 

(remember the souvenir we brought back from Hiawatha?), and I've now been in the pediatrician's office at least once for the last four weeks.  

I kind of didn't want to post about it because I felt a bit embarassed as if I was talking out of both sides of my mouth.

Side one - Being a mom is the most magical thing in the world!  

Side two - OMG, someone come help me.  Please.  Handling three meals and two snacks for Henry, approximately seven feedings for Nelle (oh and she refuses to take a bottle STILL), maybe 12 diaper changes, six breathing treatments between two kids, two baths, antibiotics to give, and countless tissues used to wipe up snotty baby noses EVERY DAY is hard, exhausting, selfless work, and I'm drowning.  

It is.  

And I am.

Drowning in love for my babies.  Drowning in desperately wanting them to feel better.  Drowning in frustration and anger that we are sick in the first place and can't seem to kick it.  Drowning in a sense of failure that our house is a disaster.  That dinner isn't ready on time.  That I keep lose my patience.  That I just want an hour to myself.  Or just twenty minutes.  Or even just five.  And then feeling guilty that I want to leave my sick children for even just a bit.  Drowning in I miss seeing my friends and am sick of being quarantined to our house.  Drowning in I wish my parents lived in town for times like this.  Drowning in I hate giving Andrew the look when he gets home after a long day at work and asks how my day was.  

Drowning in disdain for this freaking winter weather and would it just be spring already?   

And then a revelation.  

(After a good cry on my knees with Nelle strapped to me in the Moby, and a plea and a prayer for some clarity, help, and bedtime.)

Meltdown city because he couldn't get the key to come out.  Because it's not supposed to come out.

Is it really talking out of both sides of my mouth when it's true?  There are major ups and downs in parenthood.  When your world is centered around little people that are completely dependent on you for everything, and these little people are emotional, and irrational, and experiencing so much for the first time, yearning to be independent when most of their day is directed for them, yet still needing so much, of course there are going to be major swings, up and down.  And how sweet are the ups after riding out the down?

I ran a few errands by myself this weekend.  Made good dinners that even our unpredictable toddler ate.  And enjoyed a cup of hot tea yesterday afternoon while Nelle napped, and Henry and Andrew did yard work outside.  Oh, that was nice. 

Henry's two week ear infection and bronochiolits are healing.  He's almost done with his antibiotics.    We're halfway through our breathing treatment medicine.  Nelle's RSV check-up appointment this morning signals she's weathering this as best as she can, and this afternoon I'll take her to a bronchiolitis clinic at the hospital to get all the gooey crud in her nose, throat, and chest sucked out.  

 

And wouldn't you know it...I think we're on our way up again.

I'm having a whew-the-day-is-done glass of wine tonight.  A you-deserve-it-mama glass of wine tonight.  And a celebratory glass of wine tonight - to making it past the first two months of two under two all in one piece, certainly in better condition than the first go 'round with Henry, 

and on most days in most moments, really, very content.  No.  Really, very happy.

Still going strong from Nelle's baptism on Sunday.  Why don't I have fresh flowers in the house all the time?

(And to clarify, all those glasses of wine are all rolled into one because I do have to go pump in an hour.)

Our family is settling into this new life as four, yet we still haven't quite hit our stride yet.  I feel like that comes when we get into a bit more of a predictable schedule (mostly dependent on naps), and right now, I can tell you we have about 14 hours of the day figured out, and that includes dinner time, bath time, story time, bed time, one nighttime feeding, rise and shine time usually kicked off with Henry asking for Andrew from bed followed by his pitter patter down the hall into our room either asking for Mama or asking for Sister, breakfast time, and a quick nap for Nelle.  

The rest of the day...well, there's a lot more in between.  

 My type A self is itching for more structure for the in between.

My romantic, baby-loving self is shushing type A and telling her to look around.  Look at these beautiful babies and enjoy them.  

I thought Henry's first year flew by.  Nelle's is happening even faster.

 Ever since we got her first grin smack dab on her one-month mark, Nelle smiles more and more every day.  Especially when I smooch her cheeks.  Loooves it.  Her entire face lights up.  And Dada loves it too because you can see her right cheek dimple...like father like daughter. 

 

She has no less than four rolls on each thigh.  And a little pot belly to match her brother's.  I mean, Sister is growing. 

(And was feeling a bit needy after shots this morning.)

 

She sticks out a mean bottom lip and is already working on her pout.  

And Henry said his first sentence today.  

Hi mama.  

I let him help make the pie crust for our dinner tonight - chicken pot pie.  Even got his own bowl with a bit of flour and salt to mix.  

(Maybe by default because he got to the ingredients before I did.)

Belly.

 

He was whisking his ingredients together, looked up at me, and said hi mama.

Hi mama.

 

Hi Henry.  You are just the cutest.

Of course, now I can't get him to do it again, but I'm still beaming.

 

Today, I'm lucky to have captured the pure joy on his face as he learns and explores and grows.  

Every day, I'm enamored to spend my life as a part of theirs.

 

And with two littles in bed, their father out getting drinks with friends, there is only one thing left to do.

Sweep the floor.  

 I mean, did you see him flinging that flour everywhere.  Good thing I have a hook-up for more flour on-demand.

Night, night.  Sleep tight. 

We had one of those weekends that just leaves you feeling that all is exactly as it should be.  And what should be feels so happy.  

After both babes were in bed, Andrew and I just sat on the couch together, sometimes just watching Netflix, sometimes on the iPad, 

and every so often, one of us would say something you knew the other was already thinking.  

Like, "our little family is pretty great right now."  Or, "isn't Henry at such a funny age?"  

Or, "seriously, Nelle is such a good baby...how did we get so lucky?!."  

We would go back to unwinding to get a fresh start on the week, intermittently talking about the present, and the future, and saying just enough 

to let the other know they weren't alone in cheesing on how we were feeling about this precious life we're living.

High on weekending.    

But really.  Nelle is such a good baby that I'm really in for it later on.  

I'm fully expecting her to make my life miserable during her teenage years so we gave her two godfathers to help keep her in line.

Nelle was baptized on Sunday morning, our family was here throughout both Saturday and Sunday, 

and Henry couldn't get enough of playing with his cousins.  He's just getting to the age where he thinks older kids are just the coolest.  

Particularly when they run endless circles with him around our house.

After a good Sunday afternoon nap, we finally got the chance to take Henry sledding for the first time.  Nelle was also up from her nap, but it was too cold to get her out, so Andrew and I took turns leading Franklin around with Henry in tow, or pulling Henry up and down our street, 

in between dashing out for some quick pictures and then back into the house to tend to the babe.

Remember when Franklin was the star of this blog?  My how times have changed.

Henry's faces kill me.

 So focused and trying so hard not to let on how much fun he was having.  

 

There is probably more I should say to clarify that life isn't perfect as to not paint a false portrait of reality.  

But this time when she ebbs and flows into such a positive space...I'm just going to enjoy it.

This little family of mine.  So blessed.

I haven't been out of my house since Monday at noon...

if you don't count taking the trash out.  

Which I am leaning towards maybe counting it so then I won't start itching even more to plan my great escape tomorrow.

With 8+ inches of white, fluffy, beautiful snow on the ground, it makes much more sense for me and the babes to stay put than to be "gallivanting around town" as my husband so often likes to say.  It's not that we have anywhere we have to be.  Yes, there are minute errands we could run, and plenty of other snowbound households we could crash for playdates, except that we can't.  Because on top of being snowed in with two under two, we are all also dealing with head colds picked up from our trip to Hiawatha/Manhattan last week.  

A little souvenir, if you will, for Nelle's first out-of-town trip. 

 

   Nelle takes her nose being sucked out like a trooper possibly due to the fact that she still has no idea what's about to happen meanwhile I have to lay my entire body on Henry's to take care of his as it's turned into a two person job, but Andrew doesn't get snow days so now it's a 

sick mama givin' it all she's got alone job.

 

From the outside, it probably sounds not that great.  And there have definitely been trying moments.  

But I knew what was coming this week, and I prayed on Sunday night for a little extra help.  

Henry had a tough weekend as he's learning just what happens after 1,2,3 (spoiler alert - it's timeout), 

and I honestly wasn't for sure I could handle it alone.  

But Monday was a good day.  (Minus not feeling well by bedtime.)

And Tuesday was a good day.  (Despite the box of Kleenexes we blew through.)

And today was a good day.  

Nelle's safe spot.  On top of our table.

 

Answered prayers.

 

Somehow, our toys haven't gotten too boring, our games too silly, our songs too obnoxious, 

our dance parties too out of control, and helping too demanding.  

 

Oh this boy loves to help.  

 He helps cook; he helps bake; he helps change diapers; he helps bring blankets for Nelle; he helps Dada with the firewood; he helps pick up his toys; 

he helps give Nelle a bath; he helps empty the dishwasher.  He "helps" with whatever we'll let him.   

 

Sometimes taking away our normal, our outside world teaches us things.  And this week's lesson?

We all need a little help now and then.

Just ask.