Your First Halloween!!!!

Dear Story,

This year was your very first Halloween and I wanted it to be special. We started off the celebration with a Saturday morning trip to the local pumpkin patch/Trader Joe's.

Once we had the perfect three pumpkins, we headed home to host a carving party at the house. You had over a few of your friends and mommy and daddy had over a few of theirs. Between seven adults, four kids, and seven pumpkins, we only managed to carve one pumpkin. Can you believe it was mommy's? I'm kinda a freak about these holiday things. After all, I have a tradition to uphold. Your mommy has hosted a pumpkin carving party every year for the last ten years, but this is the first year with children present. Next year I promise to get daddy to actually carve a pumpkin! Here are some pictures of the carving party.

The next day was Halloween and we dressed you up in a monkey costume and took you out with some friends for your first experience with Trick or Treating. You loved it!! Here is the evidence:

We came home and put you to bed, then mommy and daddy answered the door for all the late night Trick or Treaters. We cuddled on the couch, watching tv and thinking about how full you have made our lives and how very much we love you.

I love you little monkey. And I can't wait for next year!

Mommy

One Day

Dear Story,

One day, when you are two and you don’t want my help and you tell me you can do it “all by yourself”,
I will remember this very night tonight, how you clung to my shirt and pressed your sweet head against my chest as I rocked you back and forth until you fell asleep.

One day, when you are a teenager and I am so embarrassing,
I will tell you how you would smile when I would sing to you and pick up books off the shelf and hand them to me to read aloud.

One day, when you are graduating from high school and I take a picture of you proudly holding your new diploma,
I will tell you how many pictures I took of you when you were a little girl,

One day, when you fall in love and you bring home the man and you say, “Mommy, I think he is the one,”
I will think of a time when your daddy was the most important man in your world and how you would light up whenever he would enter a room.

One day, you will call me, crying from a broken heart,
And I will tell you about when you were learning to walk, wobbling and falling every day, and how only my arms and kisses would make it better and get you to stop crying.

One day when you do find the one and daddy and I watch you exchange your vows and put rings on one another’s fingers,
I will remember those little fingers splashing in the bathtub while daddy and I laughed and squirted each other with water and told each other how lucky we were and how much we loved our life and one another.

One day, when you come to me and tell me you are pregnant with your own little baby,
I will sigh and tell you all about what it felt like to be pregnant with you and how I rubbed my belly at night, pushed away the fears and told myself that you would be the most loved baby in the entire world and perfect in my eyes no matter what.

One day, when you hold your own little girl in your arms, your husband smiling and your own face wet from the tears of joy over your new little family,
I will remember this very night tonight, how you clung to my shirt and pressed your sweet head against my chest as I rocked you back and forth until you fell asleep.

Love, Mama

Wanted: Full-Time Stay-At-Home Mom, Pays -$500 a week, No Breaks and No Benefits

Dear Ms. Story Brynne:

It is with great enthusiasm that I submit my application for consideration for the position of Full-Time Stay-at-Home Mom. Ewe R. Daddy recommended I apply, and I think you will find from a review of my resume and background that I will make an excellent addition to your Development Team. A position on your team would be a great asset to my personal growth and bring me closer to my goals of enlightenment as an individual. Three particular areas of my background will contribute to the growth and success of your future.

My entrepreneurial background will be a valuable asset as you develop your navigation plan in the coming months. I worked my way through college by building my own guerilla marketing company, supplying attractive young men and women to local beer and liquor distributors for promotional events. Just as I was able to grow a $500-a-month weekend job into a $10,000-a-month thriving business, I plan to increase your weight by 20% by Christmas and 50% by September 2011. I am a skilled self-starter and can be of great assistance as you learn to pull yourself up off the ground without pulling heavy objects over onto yourself. Together, we can build you up from a baby wearing number 3 diapers and eating number 1 baby food, to a toddler wearing number 5 diapers and eating number 3 baby food.

When I got my MA in International Affairs, I studied Italian and Serbo-Croatian, spending a year in Italy learning culinary arts and a year in Bosnia building a youth employment program. My extensive language and culture background, coupled with five years of high school Spanish, will prove useful as you develop your first few words and string together sentences of great intellectual depth. With my help, you can be uttering, “Ma-ma, more ba-ba” and “Da-da, poo-poo, change me”, before the end of the next fiscal year. My international travels throughout Eastern and Central Europe demonstrate that I am accustomed to figuring out what people want, even when they are rapidly uttering unintelligible gibberish. I look forward to interpreting your needs with cultural sensitivity and helping you find the right words to ease your entrance into society.

As you move towards your teens, you will be looking for someone with well-developed consulting skills. When I first began working with CEOs, Board Chairs and senior level executives, I had to learn to keep my ego in check. It was more important to my paycheck that my clients feel they were coming up with the ideas than it was for me to get credit for my hard work. This skill will be especially valuable while doing science projects together, going over math problems and learning phonics. It will be especially helpful while working with a teenage daughter. I hope to be able to bite my tongue as often as possible when you think you are the center of the universe. My experiences advising senior level leadership with patience, trying very hard not to be condescending and suppressing eye-rolls, will be extremely valuable to your progressing self-esteem.

My counsel built a $650 million capital campaign plan, raised $30 million for a science museum, brokeraged a partnership between the Gates Foundation, the United Nations Foundation and the United Methodist Church, and thwarted a terrorist attack during the 2002 Bosnian elections – yet I know I will still find it a challenge helping you pick out an appropriate dress for your first prom and finding the right words to heal your first broken heart. Ms. Story, these are exactly the sorts of challenges that I seek in a new position.

With the recent depletion of the funds in my 401 k plan, I am ready to begin work ASAP. I will contact your offices in the morning to find the best time between naps and feeding for us to meet. I look forward to discussing the position over a breast.

Sincerely – Ewe R. Mama

Happy Birthday To Me!

Hello world!! Today, I am five months old!

I thought I was five months old when I was twenty weeks, but Mom says that’s not the way it works and from now on we are counting month to month. So since February only had 28 days this year I am only just now turning five months old (even though I’m twenty-one weeks and four days old!). Mom says not to make a big deal of it – it works out in the long run and lets her tell people I am developmentally advanced for my age. It has been sort of a big month for me.

The Move
The day after my Auntie Elizabeth and Uncle Kevin got married, my parents packed up all my toys and clothes and stuff and Mom took me on my very first ever plane ride. Mom seemed real nervous about things, but I slept through most the ride. She was really uptight for the next few days and I had to wait ten whole days to see Daddy again. I thought once she saw Daddy she would chill out a little bit, but she just complained that he took up too much room in the bed. I could feel the tension, so for that first week, I woke up every few hours to make sure they were doing okay and had someone to talk to.

I think it helped because they seem much happier now and I don’t need to wake up so often to check on them. Mom has me sleeping in my own little room that she calls ‘the closet’. It’s super cool and dark and I have my very own night light. I got to meet my Papa for the first time and see my Ina again. They love me! Ina is always making lots of funny noises and sounds and smiling at me. Papa like to take naps with me and somehow he always makes me feel safe.

Mom says we are only here for a little while before we move to our new home in Los Angeles. She says I am going to love LA because it’s sunny all the time and there will be lots of other kids to play with. Don’t tell her, but I miss our home in Philly, our daily walk and going to the Park every day. I think Mommy misses Philly too. She got a little emotional when she saw Philly Cheesesteaks on the menu at Jake’s. Moving wasn’t my choice, but I can see that it makes Mommy and Daddy pretty excited about our future. And Daddy says that Home is wherever we are all together. So I’m excited about our new home too. I hope we can bring Papa and Ina with us when we move to the next place. They are really fun to play with, Papa cooks dinner for Mommy and Daddy and Ina takes me shopping all the time!

Toys
Ina took me shopping right the day after we got off the plane. She and Mommy bought me all kinds of strange things to play with that I had never seen before. Thank goodness! Boy was I getting bored of staring at Mommy as my main form of entertainment. I love the noisemakers and the jumper-thingy is awesome. I could spend all day in that jumper-thingy. It plays music and let’s me sit up like a big girl and watch Mommy making dinner with Papa. It makes Ina do some crazy things, like yell in a high-pitched voice, “Boing, Boing, Boing, Boing little Geraldine McBoingboing.”

My least favorite toy is the Bumbo. Mommy brought it home from Target and I tried to tell her I was too big for it but she crammed me into it anyways. When I stood up, the Bumbo was stuck to my butt and I had to have my thighs pulled out of it. I am now 18 pounds, can sit up all by myself and stand with support, so Mom – too big for the Bumbo. Told you so.

I love all my new books, toys, jumpy-things and noise makers, but my favorite toys of all are my toes. I could talk to them for hours, they taste delicious and I never have to ask Mom where she put them. My piggies are spectacular.

Sir Poops-a-Lot
I poop more now. I know my Mom would want you to know. Maybe the plane ride jostled things around a bit. Mom thinks it’s because she is now feeding me solid foods. That’s right! I eat big people food now. Well, I haven’t actually ever seen a big person eating the food from those little jars, but I see them eat with a spoon and now I eat with a spoon too! I like sweet potatoes, green beans and sweet peas. I don’t like carrots. I scream when they try to feed me carrots. Mom just doesn't understand my issues with texture or the way they turn my fingers orange. I just don’t like them.

I get to eat with a spoon twice a day and I try to keep it fun by banging on the table and making raspberries when my Mom least expects it. Mom makes the best face when I spit peas at her, it's classic. Tonight, I showed Papa how I didn’t even need Mommy to feed me. I could just pick up the bowl and put my face in it and then throw it on the floor. I think he was very impressed because he got down on his hands and knees with a towel to wipe away the tears of laughter.

Mommy and I went to Target and picked up a few new flavors for this week. She wants to make it fresh for me – but I just think that’s crazy when we can just buy up a variety pack at Target and I can eat Pears and Prunes and Apples, something different every night. I hope she doesn’t try making me dinner the way she makes it for Daddy. Because then she might want me to start doing dishes and I hate dishes.

Lullaby and Goodnight
Mom would want me to report that I no longer sleep with a swaddle. I made it as tough as possible for Mom to break me of the habit, but she finally did it. No more sleeping in a straight jacket and strangely, I now just go to sleep when Mom puts me in the bed. Of course, I whine a little, but Mommy just puts her hand on my tummy and looks at me until I fall asleep. I wake up once at 3:30 AM to check on Mom, but she seems to be okay, so I might just start sleeping through until my alarm goes off at 8:00 AM.

Night time is my favorite part of the day because Mom feeds me sooooo much. She starts at 6:00 PM with the green beans and then at 7 PM with a bottle and then we take a bath together and she lets me breastfeed while she reads me a story. Then we listen to music together and I doze off around 8:00 PM. She tells me, “Shhh, shhhh, shhhh, go to sleep now Ms. Story. Sleep makes you feel good. You are going to feel so fresh and happy when you wake up in the morning for another day full of adventures.”

I take two naps for about 1.5 hours. Sometimes longer. Mom or Dad lays me down around 10:00 AM and then again at 2:00 PM. Unless there is the World Cup or a boating trip or something else more exciting going on. Then I get to sleep on Daddy’s shoulder or in my stroller. Or in my favorite spot, inside the Ergo baby. Here I can hear my Mommy’s heartbeat and she rubs my toes and kisses the top of my head and whispers sweet things in my ear.

Today she whispered, “Happy Birthday little Story. Mommy and Daddy are so proud of you. We love you so much. You are going to have a very special day.”

And she was right. Today I woke up and went for a walk on the beach with Mommy, took a nap, watched the world cup with Dad, ate peas, took another nap, opened gifts from the big party, ate green beans with Papa and Ina and spent an hour in the jumpy. Mommy took a bath with me and made up a different voice for everyone of my new bath tub squirters. So the Nederlands lost the World Cup. It was still a good day. And every day I spend with Mommy and Daddy is special.

So, Happy Birthday to me on this very special day! And go Nederlands!

Love - Story Brynne

Mommy’s First Mother’s Day

Dear Story,

This morning you woke up at 7:00 AM and I held you until 10:00 AM, kissing your forehead, stroking your super soft skin and smelling your lovely baby smell. Daddy made me coffee and toast for breakfast and served it to me in bed.

When I got out of the shower, I found the card you left for me. It was so sweet, thank you so much little lady. I loved the glitter and your sweet words. I told Daddy that I found your card and he said, “I told her to wait until brunch to give it to you, but she was too excited.”

I dressed you in a pretty new blue dress that you got from Mimi and we all went to a fancy brunch at Daddy’s work. All of Daddy’s friends came by to say hello. You smiled at everyone and let Mommy make it all the way through brunch without fussing a bit. Thank you sweetness.

After brunch, we all hopped in a taxi and went to The Ritz to watch the movie Babies. Thank goodness you are so cute, because it turns out that they don’t allow babies at the Ritz but they made a special exception just for you.

“If she cries, you gotta get her out of there,” said the manager.

You were fast asleep in the stroller when the movie started and I was so sure you were going to wake up. It was so loud.

“At least there wont be any crashes or explosions in this movie,” your Daddy said.

You made it about thirty minutes before you woke up. I got you out of that stroller so fast and started feeding you right there in the theater. That kept you quiet for a little bit, but you really weren’t digging on all that noise and especially the scenes where there were lots of babies crying. You joined right in and my blood pressure went way up.

Daddy took you out of the theater when you started crying. “It’s not like I’m going to miss something essential to the plot line,” he said. He was right, of course. So Daddy and took turns standing at the back of the theater bouncing you while we watched the utterly delightful movie. I think that might be the last movie we watch in a theater for a long while.

It just so happens that the movie theater is right across the street from where Daddy and Mommy had their wedding reception. So we took you over to see where we had our first dance as a married couple and get some dessert. You lounged on the white sofas and made sweet cooing noises that melted the hearts of both me and your Daddy. Dessert was free since Daddy’s friend was working. And everyone wanted to hold you and pinch your cheeks.

When we got home that night, Daddy tried to convince you that you could wear your underwear on your head as a beret. He carried you around the room, speaking in a French accent about baguettes and croissants.

We took a bath together and you went right to bed. After I turned out the light and kissed you on the forehead, I stared at you in the bed until you fell asleep. Oh how you have filled my life and my heart with an overabundance of joy in the very short time I’ve known you. Before you, Mother’s Day was just a reason to send another greeting card. But now, it means something. Just like you.

All my love, xoxoxoxo - Mom

Date Night

Dear Story,

Tonight Mommy and Daddy had their very first fancy date night in a very long time. We left you at home with Mommy's friends Rachael and Rusty and you were a complete little angel. Even though it didn't seem like you missed me one bit, I suspect you are just faking it to supress your true feelings. It's alright, I pretended that I didn't miss you too. But I did.

xoxo - Mom

Weekly Update

Dear Ms. Story,

Time for a little update on all your weekly accomplishments.

• This week, you rolled over from your belly to your back, causing your parents to squeal with delight.
• You smiled. Of course, I still can't confirm if the smile is indicative of joy or just pooping in your pants. I imagine that both possibilities could make one very happy.
• This week you slept in your bed. One night, you slept six whole hours in a row. Unfortunately, I couldn't enjoy it because I woke up every 30 minutes to check and see if you were breathing. Even though my breasts ached, I was elated by your accomplishment. But then you wouldn't go back to sleep and broke into a major crying fit that turned your face purple and drew actual liquid from your tender tear ducts.
• Daddy and I both learned the value of a vibrating chair swing.
• Mommy finally learned to swaddle you and got you to start waiting four hours between meals.
• Daddy and I took you on lots of long walks. Sometimes in the stroller and sometimes in the ErgoBaby. You loved the feeling of fresh air, wore your first dress and had your first picnic in the park.
• You met lots of new people this week, as your parents slowly emerged from their isolation.
• You grew rounder in the face, cuter by the minute and more and more loveable, as if that was even possible.

My little lady, just when I think I have you figured out, you go and switch things up on me. But I'm learning how to keep up with you and I haven't lost my passion for the challenge. I can't wait to see what you do this week!

xoxo - Mom

Today I am Seventeen Years Sober!

Dear Story,

Saturday, I put you in the Ergo carrier for our daily stroll and we walked through the rain storm to visit your Daddy at work. Being so close to St. Patrick’s Day, the city had erupted in shamrock themed parties being staged all over the city and attended by young drunkards wearing green shorts over their leggings, carrying broken umbrellas and sporting leprechaun stickers on their faces. I bobbed and weaved through the streets with my hand over your head to shield you from the uncertainty of what might happen next. I shot a judgment filled dirty look at a group of girls holding up their friend in an alley while she puked. How quickly I’d forgotten where I came from.

After our visit with Daddy, we turned towards home and that’s when I saw that Sansom Street had been cut off from traffic for a rain drenched street party. I could turn on 19th and avoid the chaos, or I could walk through the crowd now huddled under plastic tents and sidewalk awnings, red keg cups in their hands. I rationalized that I was curious and I walked towards the music and the smell of beer and hot dogs. I peered into the plastic tents filled with green shirts and young faces, I smelled the body odors mixing with beer and cigarettes, I listened to the laughter, awkward conversation and bad eighties music and suddenly I was transported through time.

Suddenly, I was seventeen again and it was Friday night before a big football game. I had blue and white paint stripes on my face and was wearing my brothers letterman’s jacket. The party was high on a hill and the rain was soaking my hair, water crawling up the bottom of my jeans. Milli Vanilli sang Blame it on the Rain from a car speaker. The warm buzz from my Miller High Life made me impervious to the damp and cold. I held the golden bottle as if it was a trophy – thinking I was impressing my older girlfriends with my choice of a long neck quality beer. Some of the girls smoked cigarettes and tried to shield them from the drops of rain falling from the tree branches. The bleak Tacoma air could not dampen the feeling of a night full of possibilities. The only light on the hill came from the distant football field, making it difficult to navigate through the forest of people. But that only added to the electricity when the cute boy from Spanish class bumped up against me. His hand brushed against my arm and he gave me a plastic red cup for the keg.

“Those are worth $5.00 you know,” he said with a lopsided smile. I breathed in his scent of chewing tobacco, beer, gym socks and youth.

My friend Kelly nudged me from behind so that I knocked into him again. I giggled, he smiled and I hoped the cops wouldn’t come before I had a chance to kiss him.

When I drank, something exciting always happened.

And then I was back on Sansom Street, watching a young woman with a “Kiss me I’m Irish” t-shirt hanging onto the arm of a very tall and handsome twenty-something. I wondered if she would go home with him tonight and make-out in the lobby of his dorm room. And that is when I had the urge to be inside the party, drinking, letting go of the week, being free, flirting recklessly with a drunken frat boy, chain smoking cigarettes and waiting for an adventure to find me. I took a few steps towards the tent but then I realized that you were still strapped to my belly in the Ergo carrier.

My reverie of high school dances, fraternity parties and drunken adventures ended abruptly. Not because I recalled what comes after the adventure; the vomiting, the dry-mouth, the headache, the cheating, the broken relationships, the lying, the stealing, the poor self-esteem, and the depression. But because I thought of how ridiculous I must look. I’m a mom now. Between me and the next drink is a little bundle of life that depends entirely upon my sensibilities.

I took one last languid glance at the scene, turned and walked away.

Today I celebrate seventeen years of sober living and I am so grateful. I am grateful for you, for your Daddy, for the gifts of recovery and for the woman I’ve become because of these things. I am blessed with a loving and supportive family, real friends, a warm and welcoming home, healthy food on the table every night, a spiritual connection with something greater than me, and a guide to daily living. I've been able to create a purposeful life built on the foundation of service, love and tolerance.

It is my hope that you will never know me as I was before I began to work the twelve steps. I have so many reasons to savor this life, and you are one more.

Thank you,

Mom

Home

Dear Story:

Today when I got home from my meeting, you Dad pulled me onto his lap and played this song by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros for me. He said, "I've been listening to this song all morning and I just want to get my hands on you." He bounced me on his knee and squeezed me and rubbed my back and I know I am a total sap, but it made me tear up a little.

Here is why...

The weekend I first met Grandaddy Crawley, he was circulating a short book heralding his recently deceased wife that detailed their life and travels as Baptist missionaries. It was a collection of stories about a reserved man with a deep but unspoken love for his loyal wife. He had silently loved her since the day they met, but when she passed she may not have known all the love he had in his heart for her. He waited for her passing to write down all his most precious memories. Amongst the catalogue of places they lived and challenges they faced, he described vividly what might have been nothing more than mundane moments to his wife Margaret. But to Grandaddy Crawley, these were the moments when he looked upon his wife and his heart swelled with a deep and passionate love. The book was Winston’s love song to Margaret, sung loudly in the words on the page.

“Grandaddy always said that home is where Margaret is,” your father told me that weekend. And your father told me one late Friday night when he rushed in the door after a long night at work, sweeping me into a long hug that brought me onto the tips of my toes. “Home is where you are Ingrid”. He lingered in the hug, I could hear him sniffing my hair and feel him breathing me into his heart.

I called my Mom last night to thank her for her visit and she said she had such a lovely time but was so happy to be home.

“You know that I’ve been taking those flower arranging classes and I hardly thought your father noticed. But before I left, I had made a very special arrangement in the bedroom and it was sadly dying. You know your father Ingrid, well I suspected he would have all the dead flowers out of the house before my plane even left the runway. But when I got home, the strangest thing, the Ichiban arrangement I had left in the bedroom was exactly as I had left it. Well your father had measured each flower and gone out and bought replacement stems and arranged it exactly as I had left it. I guess he had noticed. I guess he missed me. And I have to say Ingrid, I missed him too. I had a wonderful time visiting with my kids, but I couldn’t wait to get home. And home is where your father is. It always has been.”

Then, this morning, out-of-the-blue, your daddy plays me this song. Unfortunately Ms. Story, as Grandaddy reminds us, we wont always have each other. But for now, we have a beautiful home. These little coincidences remind me to be grateful.

xoxo, Mom

The One Month Check Up

Dear Story,

A visit to your pediatrician today yielded the following observations:

• You now weighs in at 9lbs. 13oz. (an amazing leap from your birth weight of 7lbs. 8 oz. and yet more evidence that my breasts are magnificent).
• Apparently the cold metal of a hospital scale induces urination.
• You are now 22 inches in length, growing two inches in one month (making you almost as tall as me).
• Grunting is normal - you are not part wildabeast.
• Sleeping in the car seat must stop unless we plan to allow it through Kindergarten.
• It's normal for you to spit-up five times in a row at least three times a day (as long as there is no fever).
• You are good with shots but bad with band-aid removal.

It's funny how a good visit with the pediatrician can make my entire day. I am so proud that you are eating well and growing strong. While I wish I could keep you small forever, I secretly enjoy fattening you up. Can't wait to see where you weigh in next month!

xoxo,

Mom

Happy Birthday Story (One Month Old Today!)

Dear Story:

Today makes it one month since you were born. I just can’t believe that it was only 28 days ago that your Dad and I were hiking through the snow eating pineapples and beets trying to induce your birth. Little did we know it was our last carefree night as a pair of lovebirds. I didn’t think we could be any happier than we were that night, posting our silly photos, exchanging glances and talking late into the night. But then you came along. You have filled our hearts with such an abundance of joy that we both find ourselves smiling amidst all the chaos, our love stretched like a balloon at maximum capacity about to burst.

Don't get me wrong, being a mom isn't easy. Lately, I smell of sour milk, pick spit-up out of my crusty hair, forget to button my shirt after I feed you and fall asleep standing up in the grocery store line. But no matter the loss of my vanity or the fact you are impossibly difficult to lay down to sleep, I gaze down at you and my eyes just start to tingle when I see your cherub cheeks. Your face is changing every day, rounding out along with your little body. Your bright eyes make me melt into a tiny pile of gush. Your little squishy body in my hands and your sweet soft cheeks made for kisses and nibbles, make three hours of sleep feel like bliss. While not simple, it's very rewarding.

Much love - Mom

People Like to Hold You!

Dear Story:

Here are some photos of people other than your Mom and Dad who have met you since you were born.

Mimi and "Ina"

Your Aunt Sandy and Uncle C

Jerimy, Susan and John

Your cousins Hannah and Aiden (Aunt Jen and Uncle Joe not pictured)

So far, everyone seems to think you are adorable. I think they all sort of love you. How could they not?

xoxo Mom

My Breasts Are Magnificent!

Dear Story,

In case you didn’t know, my breasts are magnificent! It’s not just that they are giant and round and sit up under my chin like they did when I was 23. They are also functional! They produce copious amounts of white wet milk that overflow most of the day onto my t-shirts and jackets, dousing your bed and changing table with gushes of fluid when I bend over. I had no idea how similar the female form could be to that of a milking cow.

As soon as I hear your gentle cries, I feel this little tingling at the top of my breast. The tingle slowly moves down towards the areola and then I actually feel my magnificent mammary glands begin to swell like air entering a deflated tire. Once engorged, you latch on to my breasts with the ferocity of a barracuda attacking its prey. I gush like a fire hydrant and hope the force of the flow doesn’t push you off my breast. The combination of my flow and your grip make the time pass quickly. Between your gulps for air, you lightly cup the sides of my watermelon sized boobs in your tiny little hands as if touching the face of a delicate china doll.

Sometimes I worry that I might crush you beneath their weight. They are so heavy that just getting out of bed in the morning constitutes a complete lower back work-out. Of course, I wear a bra to bed to keep them reigned in so I don’t knock your father out on accident when coming back from a midnight bathroom run. Swollen to twice their size, my new porn star proportions have limited my wardrobe to stretch fabrics, v-necks and button-downs. Thankfully, I never threw away those flannel shirts from my Seattle grunge phase.

Let’s not even talk about my amaze-balls nipples! Hour after hour they are exposed to extreme sucking and nibbling and yet somehow they don’t shrivel up or fall off (even thought sometimes I wish they would). Like science fiction characters from a distant planet, the beaten down crusty and blistered nipples miraculously heal themselves between alternating feedings.

I once thought that all breasts were good for was a little extra male attention. But then you came along. I gaze down at you while you suckle and you stare back with those big blue eyes that see me like no one else before. I hold your little hand, you grip me with your soft baby fingers, it’s our moment and I know it’s my breasts that are making it all possible.

So Story, if you see me walking just a little more proud, straightening my spine to thrust my chest out before me, if you see me doing a double take in front of the mirror when I catch the girth of my side boob or the depth of my cleavage, don’t be alarmed. It’s only because my breasts are magnificent.

Love, Mom

Happy Birthday Story (Two Weeks Old Today!)

Dear Story:

Daddy went back to work today and left us alone for the first time. I admit, I was scared of the quiet. For the last two weeks, your Daddy and I have lived in an isolated bubble of baby burps, diaper discussion and sleep pattern analysis. We have been impervious to the sleet and snow outside, except for its guilt free reason to shut out the world, stay inside, light a fire and exist in our own little baby kissed universe.

Reality suspended, we have enjoyed every moment of our two week staycation. During the day, we patiently observe a cycle of eat, change, activity, sleep. Daddy does the wash, cleans the dishes, takes out the trash and makes the coffee. Mommy makes the bed, feeds the baby, and prepares all the meals. We share diaper duty. At night, we toss and turn with your every coo, grunt and wail, praying that you will sleep more than 2.5 hours at a time.

In our bubble, there are no bills to pay, phone calls to return or obligations to the outside world. And then today it burst. Dad went back to work and I sat down at my desk to go through the pile of mail and compile my “to do” list.

Here is what I had hoped to accomplish today:

• Do the wash
• Write eight thank-you notes
• Clean the kitchen
• Go to the grocery store
• Complete three unfinished blog posts
• Pay bills
• Organize baby paperwork
• Prepare lunch
• Prepare dinner
• Put something aside for Daddy to eat for dinner
• Invoice clients
• Reach out to three new client prospects

Here is what I actually accomplished:

• Got one load of wash out of the dryer and dumped it on the center of the bed
• Fed you, burped you, changed you
• Asked Dad to write eight thank-you notes before he left for work
• Fed you, burped you, changed you
• Rocked you for two hours because you wouldn’t stop fussing
• Thought very hard about loading the dishwasher
• Put you in the ErgoBaby and heated up some leftovers for lunch
• Fed you, burped you, changed an extremely dirty diaper resulting from an assplosion of mythic proportions
• Looked at the bills but you started crying
• Rocked you for another hour until you nodded out for fifteen minutes and then woke up grunting and fidgeting - why does this not happen when Daddy is here?
• Managed to Skype with your cousins for eight minutes
• Started to write this blog about five times, one word at a time, while I jiggled you on my lap until you started grunting and thrashing
• Put you in the car seat and zoomed you around the house which was somewhat effective until I stopped
• Tried to swaddle you, you escaped
• Fed you, burped you, changed you
• Thought maybe you have dark circles under your eyes and spent twenty minutes on the internet researching birth defects that cause blackened eyes
• Put on all our going out clothes and then decided to take a nap instead on the sofa
• You slept about twenty minutes and cried the minute I moved you to your bed
• At 4:00 PM I put the stove to 400 degrees to attempt to make pizza
• Put you in the ErgoBaby and got the mail!
• Fed you, burped you, changed you, tried again to put you down
• Replaced your soothie when it fell out of your mouth over fourteen times in one hour
• Decided you have your Daddy’s nose
• Fed you, burped you, changed you
• Shit! Left the stove on for three hours and never made pizza
• You closed your eyes for about eighteen minutes and I finished this blog

Don’t tell your Daddy, but I had no idea how much easier this was with four hands instead of two. Now don’t worry Ms. Story Brynne, I’m determined to persevere! This is only day one, and I can't remember a job I did well at (or still liked) on the first day. With time, we are going to be a great team!! Of course, I know that once I’ve mastered this challenge, there will be another one waiting. And just like today, I promise to meet each challenge with patience and love. Nothing worth having comes easy. You will be my life’s greatest work.

Love every little eyelash, toe nail, and ear hair - Mom

Getting Things Done - Day 10

Dear Story:

Sunday has always been a special day for me and your father. We wake up when we want to wake up and we lay around the house drinking coffee and doing our own separate projects. We have lunch together, go for a walk and maybe see friends. But today was our first "family" Sunday. We all slept in until 11:30 AM, I fed you, we drank coffee in our separate corners, I fed you again, we answered emails, I fed you, we caught up on our favorite blogs, I fed you again, I got to write for the first time in a long while, I fed you, Dad processed his in-box, we organized and I fed you some more. Your father spent about eight hours cleaning up his gmail contacts list and according to the new Total Baby app on our iTouch, he changed you six times!

Encouraged by the extra hours of sleep you gave us last night, we moved around furniture, did wash, cleaned, and put some order back into our lives. We know it wont last, but for now it was just what we needed.

Refreshed and rejuvenated, we are ready for the week to begin. At least we think we are.

Family Resemblance - Day 5

Dear Story:

I can't yet figure out who you resemble more.

Day 2 - Welcome Home Story

Dear Story:

Dad and I took you home from the hospital today in a big yellow cab driven by a man named Khakid Alied.

We introduced you to every room in your new home, swaddled you in the bed, rocked you in the swing, tried out the changing table and even gave you a sponge bath on your new pink tub. You seemed to love every minute of it!

Like most new parents, we took a virtual cornucopia of photos and video and found ourselves just staring at you in your crib.

We were so happy to leave the hospital and so happy to have you home where you belong. Oh Story, your Daddy and I are so happy that you are here. Even though you were a big surprise, it's as if we waited all our lives to meet you. And well, we are just so happy.

Welcome home Story. Welcome to our family.

Three

Dear Sweet Baby, just thought you should know that you are really our third baby.

Our first was conceived last Christmas over late nights in front of the computer collaborating on Daddy’s application packages for business school. Daddy would write and then sit hopefully by my side while I read.

"Please don't say that I have to re-write the whole thing," he begged.

Then I would begin the critique, "Let's talk about what's good first".

We gave that baby Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and every date night in between. Gabe averaged 5 hours of sleep and I averaged 6. He wrote, I critiqued, he wrote more, I organized his recommenders, he prodded them gently, I nagged incessantly. We submitted the final application on January 8th and on August 9th we got the news that Dad was accepted at UCLA Anderson.

He sat stunned on the couch, the phone pressed to his ear. I jumped up and down silently before he hung up and then I wrapped my arms and legs around him and squeezed with every muscle in my body.

"We did it," he said.

Our second baby was conceived on July 27th, when your father got down on one knee at the Kidrobot store in New York and asked me to marry him. The engagement was just the beginning. Your father and I labored for 60 days over every small detail. Dad had an opinion on everything from the color of the paper for the programs to the flowers for the boutonnieres. And of course, I had an opinion as well. So we had to collaborate on everything.

I averaged three hours of sleep between juggling the guest list, assembling programs, cutting out gift bag labels, wrapping favors, selecting bridesmaid dresses and managing the invitation and RSVP process. Daddy did all the song selection, handled all the restaurants and food, worked on the ceremony and wrote thank you notes. We poured our hearts and souls into something that was really special for the both of us. The big day was birthed September 26, 2009 and it was spectacular! It was the product of our love and devotion to one another and it came together beautifully.

We are pretty proud of our first two offspring. But I have a feeling we will be even more proud of you!

We expect to be tired and cranky and frustrated when things don’t go quite right. We know all about trial and error. But in the end, we are both confident that the first time you grip a finger, hold up your head on your own, smile, crawl or make a noise that resembles a word, then it will all be worth it. We make pretty good things together, your Daddy and I.

I think you will love your siblings as much as we do and we can’t wait for you to meet them!

See you soon – Mommy and Daddy

Dear Baby - Only 6 days until we meet!

Dear Sweet Baby,

It is difficult to believe that this time next Wednesday night I may be feeding you or Daddy may be trying out his “Happiest Baby on the Block” tricks on you. If the shushing sound he makes in your ear is annoying, I give you permission to vomit on him.

In these last few days, Mommy and Daddy have been doing lots of preparing for you arrival. Tonight, I baked 24 red velvet cupcakes and 24 snickerdoodles to serve to all the friends that will be stopping by to see you when you are born.

Daddy walked me all over town to try and find flavors to drip in my ice chips at the hospital, he got the laptop loaded with our favorite music and photos and packed his Daddy bag. We washed and folded all your new baby clothes. Your Aunty Barb sent another huge box of designer duds that made Mommy tear up and cry all over them. Dad said we should wash them again.

On Friday night, Mimi will be arriving so she can help us with your birth. We hope you don’t come before she arrives because she would be so sad to miss your arrival. And Daddy and I still have a few things left on on our ‘To Do’ lists.

Daddy and I spend a lot of time wondering what kind of birth we will have, and what kind of baby you will be. I'm especially curious about what you might look like when you are born.

Here is what your daddy looked like when he was born.

And here is what your mommy looked like when she was a baby.

I hope you look more like me.

Daddy was born 7 lbs and 2.5 oz, he broke his nose and Mimi's tail bone on his way out after 36 hours of labor. I slid out at 5 lbs 14 oz within five minutes of my Mother arriving at the hospital.

I hope you are born more like me too.

When I was little, I loved looking at pictures of my Mom and Dad when they were babies. I also loved asking your great grandma Wiese and Ford to tell me stories about when my parents were bad. Your Grandma Hesson and Grandma Wiese should have lots of stories like that for you Hedvig. And as for photos, I put together this little video so that you could see what your mom and dad looked like when they were little. I can’t wait to watch it with you someday and answer all your questions.

Well, I should probably get some sleep because I need to be well rested in case you decide to arrive in the middle of the night. Would it be possible if you could wait until around noon before you start your journey towards us? Daddy and I really like to sleep in and it would be so great to meet you when we are super well rested.

Thanks Baby - See you soon,

Mom

9 Days to Baby Toes

Dear Baby Hedvig:

We are now counting down to your arrival in single digits. I have to be honest, the last two days have been rough. You wriggle and writhe and stick toes in places that they just don’t belong. You wake me up in the middle of the night and cause heartburn that feels like I am having a heart attack. I’m cranky when I don’t sleep and that makes me extra mean to your father.

When I’m cranky, I let dark thoughts invade the peaceful space that is usually filled with nothing but love and excitement for our first meeting. And tonight – the darkness came, softly but swiftly like a fog rolling in from the sea. By the time I noticed it, I was panicked.

You see, dear girl, I’m a little bit freaked out about the prospect of changing my life for your arrival. I’m nervous about losing myself. Before I met your father I wore my hair long, my dresses short and never left the house without at least 2½ inches of stylish heel. I signed up for missions in Bosnia or Africa or Albania when life felt boring. I loved coming home to an empty apartment, a clean kitchen and a well made bed. I slept on a different side of my glorious bed every night and cherished staying up late with my laptop writing blogs and answering my Friendster, MySpace, Facebook and Match.com emails. Dating was my favorite sport, shopping was my cardio warm-up and eating alone in a coffee shop was a daily exercise. My life was wild and free and easy.

Of course, your Dad changed all that and I’m happy that he did, but I’m still sort of adjusting. And now here comes you. People keep warning me that “everything is going to change”, “you will never leave the house again”, “you will become nothing more than a feeding machine”, and I can’t help wondering if all that I once loved about myself is about to die. I know you will keep me busy and entertained, but will you keep me mentally stimulated? Will I be trapped inside a world of diapers and bottles and sleeping schedules with no outlet? Will Dad stop talking to me about articles he read in the Economist? Will we ever have date night again?

I already feel like a bad mother for even thinking these things. These fears come and go these days – and are most often triggered after an evening with friends who have kids of their own. I wish I could promise you that once you are born these fears will vanish. I hope that they do. I also hope that your father and I don’t stop caring for our souls and our minds when you burst into our world. I hope that we allow you to widen our world and not shrink it. I hope that we get to be kids again because of you and that our love for one another deepens as a result of your presence in our lives. My dear sweet baby, I hope you never know the fears that threatened to eclipse the sunshine of your bright spirit coming into our world.

Look, I have never been good at knowing what will make my life complete and happy. In fact, the things that have brought me the greatest joy are things I resisted at first. A stable (boring) job, a move to Philadelphia, your Dad, a career change, marriage! So I think it’s okay that I’m feeling this way tonight. I think it’s okay to mourn my independence one last night. I think, well I hope, that this is normal and healthy and all part of the journey towards becoming a mom.

Regardless of how I feel, you are coming soon and there is nothing I want to change about that fact. You are the most important project I will ever accomplish and the next great journey in my life. You are my chance to give back the copious amounts of love I’ve received in my lifetime. And for that I’m truly grateful.

Don’t worry sweet baby, I’m ready whenever you are. Just a little reluctant tonight.

Love, Mom