a few firsts

Or...copious amounts of baby pictures...

First Shots

Just look at that tiny little leg with such a big band-aid...

They cried, I cried....I think their dad teared up.  

First Time Wearing Sunshades

         

Need a bow to hide that receding hairline... ;)

I'm so cool...

                         

           


First Neighborhood Walk in the Moby

LOVE the Moby

First Baths

At the hospital...               

Now I think my girls are pretty much the most beautiful babies in the world...but Charleigh looks a little like Bill Murray in this picture, no?

First Time Cheering P-dubs on at his football game...

First Walk 

                                                              
         


First 'Manicure' with Aunt Lou

First Thanksgiving

Check out that turkey bow...we're serious about our accessories around here. 

First Date?

Their play date doesn't look so sure about it...

First Breakfast at Toast

Auntie Katie and Auntie Noney....the girls better get used to this little outing. 

First Trip to Church

Sweet 'n' Lo

Sweet C

a birth story

The girls were born over a month ago and I'm just now writing about their birth. {Clue as to how CRAZY my life can be. Crazy but wonderful.} Anyways, late or not...here's how it all went down...

My c-section was scheduled for November 3rd and, by golly, I was going to make it until that date. AND I was convinced I would work until November 2nd. Nevermind that I was so huge and uncomfortable looking that I received comments from perfect strangers like 'Good grief!' and 'There better be two babies in there!' and (said with  clear discomfort on their face) 'Are you going to have it right now?!' To which I wanted to say, 'Yes, I am. Please go boil some water so I can deliver my sweet babies on the floor of Aisle 6/Starbucks/your precious pizza joint.' {And while I'm ranting and raving... What if there weren't two babies in there?! How bad would you have made me feel?!!!}

 My colleagues were also urging me to slow down...maybe stop working a week early? {Ha! Do they even KNOW me?!} At this point I'm not sure what my sweet co-teacher feared more...my water breaking all over our trailer or the possibility that small objects and/or children might start orbiting me. 

Regardless, Baby A was still breech and clearly had little intention to turn before our 38 week deadline. And I was stubborn. My doctor scheduled the section for the day she would be on call and I left that appointment with a plan for the next two weeks. But that Monday at school I felt AWFUL. My legs were killing me and I felt so much pressure... ahem...down there that I couldn't even walk my kids out to the bus. I was convinced I just needed a good night's rest and I would be fine to teach the next day. But, after my 'good' night's rest, I felt worse and could barely move my legs. I texted my co-teacher that I wouldn't be in but ended by saying 'I'll be there tomorrow!' Oh, but these babes had a different idea.

1:30 ish My long-suffering sister came to keep me company. I sat on the nursery floor while she finished packing the babies' hospital bag. I told her not to worry about it because that was on my list of things to do that weekend. Again, she is so wise.

5:00 ish I laid on the couch watching FRIENDS while trying to elevate my feet enough that they didn't look like they belonged to a 400lb woman. Let me tell you, there were not enough pillows for that job.

Exhibit A....this was a few weeks before and my feet got way worse than that. Paul called them thankles because my knees, calves,  and ankles were all about the same size as my thighs... like my thighs just met right up with my feet. Gross. I also really like how I'm wearing leggings under a dress here. Stylin'.

7:00 ish I gave myself a pep talk and headed to P-dubs football game where everyone was already aware that I had pressure...ummm...there. Even my brother-in-law...and that's not embarrassing AT ALL. I think they won. Or maybe they lost. Hmmmm.

10:00 ish I settled into bed {alone} to try to sleep that weird feeling off. I told Paul to sleep in the guest room so he could actually SLEEP...because, let's be real, with all my pillows and my huge belly, there really wasn't enough room for him. And I was getting up almost every hour. 'Sleep while you can! Ha!' I said. And good thing he did.

2:30 ish I got up to use the bathroom for the zillionth time. Just after I was settled back in bed, I felt a small pop and the flood gates opened. I kid you not I probably lost 20 pounds of fluid in that second. Now, I've never been with someone when their water broke but in the movies (a truly reliable source, I know) it's always made to sound like water breaking=small trickle. Well, mine was more like Niagara Falls. Afraid to move or even talk too loud (what?), I calmly called out for Paul. Then I yelled for him. Twice. Then I called his phone. Twice. Then I got my pregnant, soaking wet self out of bed and waddled/trickled down the hall. (TMI?) I flipped on the light and said, 'Hey Paul? My water broke.' He sat straight up--without a doubt the fastest I have ever seen that boy wake up--and said 'Are you serious?' Umm. Very. I called the doctor while he called my sister. And PRAISE THE LORD my doctor happened to be the one on call. She wanted us to hurry in so she could do the section before her shift was over. We grabbed our things and headed out the door. P-dubs really enjoyed that feeling of rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night--especially since he had been preparing for a scheduled, un-rushed trip. {Really we didn't have to hurry since we knew they had scheduled the operating room for us at 5:00. But adrenaline and the lure of almost completely clear roads took over.} 

3:45 ish We checked into the hospital and the nurse checked to be sure I had in fact 'ruptured.' Ew. She gave me my hospital gown and Paul some scrubs. {Now I know what my husband would look like if he were a doctor. And I'm not gonna lie, I like it.}

Last belly pic...middle of the night...rough...

Cutie pie doctor with a little bed-head going on...

4:45 I walked into the operating room which was entirely more overwhelming than I had anticipated. I knew I was going to have surgery but until that moment I didn't realize how serious that really was. I walked into bright lights and a chilly room with about 15 people staring back at me. And there were two baby warmers. Two. I got my spinal which was honestly more terrifying than the thought of being sliced open. {I was convinced I would be that one in how-ever-many people who would end up paralyzed from it. }Shaking from the drugs in my IV and the cold room, Paul was finally let in to hold my hand. My doctor asked if we were ready to meet our babies. Umm. Very. At 5:09 Charleigh Grace entered the world and she looked SO BIG. At 5:10, her sister followed and I thought 'Oh my gosh she's SO SMALL!' 

And suddenly we were four and my heart could barely handle it. 

CG

Lo

The paparazzi. I promise there were babies over there somewhere.

Oh, there they are...

Paul was a rockstar at the hospital. The nurses LOVED him.  By the end of the first day he was using all sorts of technical  nurse jargon that was completely over my head. Maybe he missed his calling?

Logan

Charleigh

Charleigh looks so big but she was only 6 lbs! And Logan was actually longer...

Sisters snuggling in the warmer.

Nice baby. NICE SLIPPERS. 

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. ~ James 1:17

happy birthday

Happy Birthday to this guy...

thebeautifulmess.com

He's a stud muffin. Inside and out. And he turns the big 27 today. {Talk about babies having babies! Ha!}

Last year on his birthday, he showed up after work to find his new little wife all dolled up--hair curled, dressed to the nines, make up, fancy schmancy shaved legs, ready to go to dinner...this year he'll be lucky if I manage to change out of the shirt that Charleigh just spit up on. {They are ganging up on me today.} Two years ago I made him eggs benedict for his birthday breakfast. Today I didn't even have a hand to throw a frozen waffle in the toaster. Last year I bought him tickets to the ACC championship AND sat with him in the freezing cold to watch it. Not so much this year...But thankfully the same little ones that are making it impossible for me to even brush my hair today or send my husband out the door with so much as a measly cup of coffee are the same exact reasons that P-dubs wont even notice. Who cares what I look like when you come home to this goodness?

So double team me all you want girls. In honor of the man of the house here are some reasons we are so incredibly thankful for him.

Thankful for Daddy

1. How hands on he is with the girls. Seriously, I think I changed a grand total of ONE diaper the whole time we were in the hospital. Five weeks later and he's still helping me out as much as he can. And these girls LOVE him.

2. His sense of humor...nothing like having a husband who can make you laugh so hard you almost split open your c-section incision. His modeling/explanation of his 'manly diaper bag' is priceless. Especially when he's trying to explain something that he clearly has no clue what it even is.


3. How hard he works. This guy has some serious initiative. And he's good at pretty much everything he does.


4. He's easy on the eyes. His daughters could just stare at his bearded little face for hours. I could too but how unproductive is that??

5. He has not complained once that I've cooked dinner maybe 4 times in the past six weeks. He usually even calls to offer to pick something up on his way home. He's treated me with a lot of grace in this new phase of our lives. {Example...pretending like he didn't notice that I wore the same yoga pants two three days in a row. Or telling me he thinks my new belly button looks 'kind of cool.' Definitely not the words I would use to describe it.} 


6. His faith. Plain and simple.


7. His beat boxing skills. Amazing. And I can't wait for our girls to be able to bust some moves to this talent.


8. How he is as manly as they come but will still watch certain un-named Bravo reality TV shows with me.

9. That he is up for any and all adventures. Disney World. Europe. Effingham, NH. Taking two newborn babies anywhere. He lives for that kind of excitement.

You can take the boy out of America but you can't make him act European. 

10. That he chose me to be his wife and friend for life. I'd choose him a million times over. Even over Michael Buble. And that's saying a lot.


Your three girls love you more than you know. Happy birthday!

And we're done. Hurry home, dad.