Cool Mom.

I have a confession. It's a little embarrassing. But probably normal. When I was a kid (I'm talking adolescence), I thought my mom was basically the Anti-Cool. I mean, I really liked her and everything. I never had a big problem with my mom. But as far as the coolness factor, she was not even on the charts. Although, in my defence, some of my reasoning for this assessment of 'coolness' was based on the fact that she said "Whoa, baby!" (think Kimmy from Full House) on a regular basis. That is still not cool.

Well, you may think I am doomed to be relegated to uncoolness by my girls. But I feel like I am paving a new path in motherly coolness. Not only did Ella notice that I got cool new plaid shoes. (See example in her Mother's Day Out Easter Egg Hunt picture above.) But she really likes them. That is because I have impeccable taste. And I am cool. So, if we can just hang on to this sentiment for another, say, seventeen years, I am set.

As you might notice from the Easter Egg Hunt picture, she enjoyed getting eggs. But didn't really feel the drive that the other children felt. Once she had one, she was very happy just to watch. I had to strongly encourage her to get as many as she did (four). She's so chill. Although as I am typying this she is thowing bread on the table in disgust because I won't let her walk around while eating it. So not completely chill. But mostly chill. Similar to cool. Maybe one day she will be as cool as me.

On being a mother of two.

This afternoon I found fermented pink lemonade in a sippy cup in our car. Ella was insistent that she should be allowed to have a drink of it. I played the parent card and said "no". As some of you may know, I have actually partaken of fermented pink lemonade, and it is not something I would wish on anyone... but at least it will go down in history as one of my finest moments. My roommates promised that they would talk about it forever, and I know that they must be true to their words, and it is a frequently requested bedtime story for children all over the country now.

I ran out of pants (that fit) because I haven't done laundry in so long. (Although I haven't resorted to wearing swimsuits, yet, so the situation isn't that dire.) Unfortunately I had a doctor's appointment, so I had to wear something other than grungy pajama pants. I scrounged up a pair of shorts and was off. It wasn't until I walked outside and felt a cool breeze lifting my ridiculously long leg hair that I realized I haven't shaved since last summer.

An actual conversation with Paul:

Me: "Do you think I look too skinny?"
Paul: "No."
Me: "You don't think I look unhealthy? I think I am too skinny."
Paul: "No, you could lose a lot of weight and still be thicker."

Thanks, honey.

For those of you who are worried, I did ask him to clarify what 'thicker' means. He just meant I am not as slender as I was before I got pregnant. It is hard for me to tell, because I am just looking at a body that lost a lot of weight (you know, a baby and all its trimmings) really fast. It is weird to not be pregnant. And I just want to make sure that I don't lose the curves that qualify me for the definition of "Greek Goddess". Still got it.

All in all, my children are fed, and usually happy. My house is a mess, and my heart is full. I could spend hours staring at my newborn. I could spend hours staring at Ella, but she never stops moving, so I don't get the chance. Double the pleasure, double the fun. I definitely recommend two.

Details.

I must be more exhausted than I thought :) She has a name and everything.

Charlotte Loretta Christensen
9 lbs 3 oz
22 inches

She was born at 7:38am Saturday morning after about 12 hours of active labor. I started the pitocin at 2:30pm Friday, but the contractions didn't start needing any concentration for a while. I only had to push for five minutes, though, which was nice. All in all, a good experience. We are so glad she is finally here.

She's perfect.

Really, they both are. We are loving this time at home as a family. Yea for Spring Break.

The last days...

Well... still no baby. So, basically I have been spending the week trying to distract myself from the very obvious. Paul actually told me last Sunday, "You need a hobby. Why don't you write a book or something this week?" I informed him that book-writing isn't a very practical hobby with a toddler in tow. So I made up my own hobbies (mostly to avoid socializing, because it's just too depressing to "still be pregnant" around my friends). So we did some of park hopping. The weather has been BEAUTIFUL. The downside to this beautiful weather, a very real awareness that the air conditioning in our car is still not working. The day of reckoning speedily approaches. We are going to have to get that fixed before too long.Paul and I attended an Aggie baseball game Tuesday night. (An invitation from hesitant friends: "Ummm, so, have you had the baby?"

"No."

"Do you think you will tonight?"

"No."

"Good! We have tickets to the baseball game!"

A girl can always hope that the thrill of baseball can get labor going. But the final score was 17-1, A&M. Really fun game. Really not edge of your seat kind of stuff.

Lots of reading and singing and loving on my baby while she's still my only one.

Okay, I just put this one in because Ella looks so cute in my apron. Let's be honest here. I have done very little actual cooking this week. The upside of that being that there are very few dishes. What a beautifully clean kitchen we have!

Yes, this is more like it. Anyone recognize the classic Cracker Barrel scene here? I told Paul that my new hobby is going out to eat. He has been amazingly accommodating. I have a really good husband. We are actually sick of restaurants.

Well, here I am, seven days late. Which I think would not have been so stressful but for the daily, regular Braxton-Hicks contractions. I have been woken up by contractions three nights in the last week. I have been sure every single day that "today is the day". So so discouraging. It was actually pretty easy to wait for Ella (six days late) because nothing happened until the night I went into labor. I feel like I've been teased all week long. It's been pretty emotional for me.

We agreed many months ago that we would induce labor on late-day eight, because Spring Break starts for Paul tomorrow, and I didn't want to waste even an hour of the precious time that we get to spend together. And let's face it, I really didn't think I would go this late. Um, hello, I was only six days late with Ella. So this morning before my doctor's appointment I had to do some soul searching and praying to know if this was really a good decision. Inducing labor increases the risk of fetal distress, increases the likelihood that I will be unable to cope with the often more-intense contractions caused by synthetic hormones, and increases the incidence of other medical interventions, including Cesarean delivery. All of which I want to avoid. Obviously. So, I went to the doctor's office not completely sure what we would do. And left feeling amazingly good about inducing labor tomorrow. So we are. Tomorrow at noon. I'm still not sure why it feels so right, because I am a big believer in allowing your body to do its job on its own. But I am going with it. Wish me luck and send a prayer my way. We are having a baby tomorrow!

It's Official.

I am never ever ever going to have this baby. Ever.

Update.

Forget dinner. Ella and I are busy exploring the magnificent noise parchment paper makes when you run across it. Rice is good enough.

Trick or treat

Smell my feet, we have nothing good to eat.

So I'm making rice. And hoping that the rest of the meal will magically appear before it's done cooking.

And I'm hoping Ella will be magically not naked when her dad gets home... but if she's not, I will only feel marginally ashamed. Because I have already clothed her twice today. And I think that I'm not going to do it again. I'll let you know.

On the upside, maybe I'll have a baby tonight.

A girl can dream.

Happy Due Date tomorrow.

One of the true pleasures of being a stay-at-home Mom is the frequent opportunities I get to simply enjoy my child. Ella and I spent a very engaging morning watching the construction workers outside of her bedroom window. I loved that I could just push back everything on the list and live in that moment, totally thrilled with the chance to take advantage of Ella's limited vocabulary and have a very fulfilling conversation about trucks and dirt. We have a good life.

Write cute girls. Win Prizes.

My freshman year of college, my roommate and I realized the pure joy that could come with the arrival of a simple letter. So we took matters into our own hands and posted signs around campus-- complete with pictures of ourselves... and false names. But we put our real address.

Write cute girls!
Win Prizes!

It seemed like such a brilliant idea at the time. I am still shocked we didn't get a single letter.

Drinking Martinelli's tonight and watching the Olympics. Thinking of all the good times I had with my roomies. I never get the chance to be as wonderfully silly as I often was in those days. I still cherish the hope that I will one day find someone who brings the silliness out so thoroughly. Love you girls.