Pregnancy One versus Pregnancy Two:

Let me explain: this is a picture from my first pregnancy…the one where I didn’t know what was going one…the one where I made all the wrong decisions. First there was the weight gain. I had never felt such horrid sickness day in and day out and while I really didn’t enjoy eating, eating was the only thing that helped limit the nausea. OK, full disclosure: around 20 weeks, I actually started to enjoy eating again and then I wasn’t going to let anyone stop me. There was even an incident involving my husband throwing my McDonald’s french fries out the window of the car in pure disgust at my rapacious appetite. Was it some hormonal imbalance in my first pregnancy that induced me to get a horrendous haircut? Why did I think a bob would be a good idea? Wasn’t my face round enough at that point? Did I really need a hairstyle to accentuate that roundness? And oh, those clothes! I bought them on some discount maternity online store. I’m pretty sure they were leftovers from the early 90’s. I remember receiving compliments from some co-workers (the ones who thought business dress was a nice pair of sweat pants) saying that they appreciated that I was wearing matronly maternity clothes instead of those modern-day (translate as stylish) maternity clothes young (hip, gorgeous) pregnant girls were wearing. I should have gone straight home to burn all those matronly clothes then and there. And why did I decide that it was a good idea to stop wearing make-up? Daniel confessed to me (post-pregnancy) that in my final weeks, he had come across my old driver’s license photo from New Hampshire and had almost started crying at how beautiful I had been. You know it’s bad when your husband thinks an old driver’s license picture is prettier than what you have become.

So, I’ve learned my lesson. I bought some stylish shirts that my former co-workers would not approve of, I’ve limited food consumption…sorta, I’ve stayed away from the beauty salon, and I put on make-up each and every day. That last one is even a step up from the pre-pregnancy days. Maybe this way, my husband won’t go into a deep funk when I tell him in a few years that I’m ready to get knocked up again.

The Trifecta:

When Eole was born, my favorite thing to do was to rock her while I fed her a bottle and we gazed adoringly into each other’s brown eyes. I knew that as soon as she was able, she’d be insisting on holding her own bottle and would prefer the company of a comfy couch over her mother’s arms. Yes, I just knew those precious baby days were numbered. Fast forward 2.5 years and the numbering has yet to run out. When Eole wakes up from her nap, she needs what Daniel has named “The Trifecta” and what Eole calls the “Lalala.” This involves 1. Her bottle, 2. Milk in the bottle (preferably of the chocolate variety), and 3. Mommy holding the bottle while feeding and cradling Eole. Eole knows how to ask for a bottle and for milk and for snuggles. But when she says she wants “Lalala,” she is talking about all three. And don’t even try to get her to hold her own bottle, not even for one moment. Drop that bottle and she will scold you and tell you to pick it up again. Bottle-holding is strictly mommy’s responsibility. One change from her babyhood is that during this lalala time, she will pull up her shirt and, with bottle nipple still in mouth, she will ask for a “belly tickle” as well.

These are a few of my favorite things….

Eole loves doing water colors with her daddy. I’m hopeful that she has inherited his artistic talent and not my limited stick figurine skills. My southpaw also loves to make “counting” marks on paper all while counting, “three, four, five, seven, ten.”

Eole loves Locopops, a locally-owned artisan popsicle shop, whose flavors include such exotics as Mexican chocolate, mango chili, and mojito.

Eole loves going down to the local lake for a dip in the chilly water. Just try to keep her clothes on…I dare you.

Eole also loves feeding her singing bullfrog her left-over cereal. That's my girl!

And now for the holidays. 2011 brought a dearth of holiday celebrations. In fact, the only holiday we celebrated was Christmas. That’s what happens when you sell your house, move across the country, start working 90 hours a week and are pregnant-sick all the time. Now that Eole is two, I realize I need to step it up when it comes to celebrating holidays. I remember being two, and I don’t want her to look back and realize what a burn-out mom she had.

While still sick at Christmas, I did manage to finally finish our felt stockings. As a newly- wed couple, Dan and I pulled out our childhood stockings for our first Christmas together. Imagine our surprise to find that we both possessed home-made (and maybe a little homely) felt stockings. Thus began the dream to make new felt stockings for us and our future children. Eight Christmases later, I finally finished our first three!

I might have gone a little over-board for Easter this year…I bought four bags of candy for myself and a two-year old (Dan hates Easter candy, which is a down-right heresy in my book). The worst part is that I actually had to go to the store again because Eole and I had eaten most of that candy before Easter. Eole and I also participated in two Easter egg hunts. Although, she preferred to pick up a few eggs and then hide them again rather than keep them.

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio… I don’t know about Joe, but I’ve been out of the blogging realm due to a parasitic infection. Luckily, it will be a parasite that we will love and adore when he is born on May 14th.

But in the meantime, the last several months have been rough and we’ve been running essential systems only. (for the first few months, the essentials didn’t even include clean laundry or food…thanks for flying out three times to help out, Mom!).Despite sickness and a very heavy work load, we have enjoyed our first year in North Carolina. Here are some highlights:

We love living only a mile away from the Sarah P. Duke Gardens. It’s like a little piece of Europe here in Durham.

Eole celebrated her 2nd birthday with her Auntie Jen and cousins and her Nana Anne and Dad-dad-dad Dave.

The mini cupcakes from Daisy Cakes were a big hit...especially because I didn't have to bake them (do you recall the disaster "flat"-cakes I made for her 1 year old birthday?)

We took a late September trip to Roanoke Island and the Outer Banks.

Eole triped and fell at the Settlers display at Roanoke Island. Her knee got scrapped up and was bleeding. For weeks afterward, whenever she couldn’t get what she wanted, Her “old trick knee” would start acting up and she would start rubbing her knee and say “Ouch! Knee!”