Day In The Life - Fall 2013

Linking up once again with Navigating The Mothership's Day In The Life series. Details here.

It feels extra special to document this moment in time as it's one of the last few as a family of three. In (+/-) 30 days, our lives will be forever changed (and inevitably more chaotic) with the addition of Baby #2. Plus, it's the first DITL where Tory's fully talking, so I tried to write down some of the funny things she says these days. Here's a peek into our lives on Friday, October 11.

Tory is 2 years and 1 month old
I am 35 weeks pregnant with Baby Aden

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12:15am: I wake up to the sound of Tory crying out for me from her bedroom. Tory's been sleeping in her new "big girl bed" for three weeks now and ... transitions are tough. Each night yields 1-3 wake-ups which is just plain annoying considering she's two-years-old and perfectly capable of going back to sleep on her own. I glance at the video monitor sitting on my nightstand table and see she's already crawling down the side of her bed, so I get up to re-direct her back to bed. I tuck her inside the  blankets and take a seat on the corner of her bed to stay with her until she falls back asleep. In the meantime, I sleepily rub my eyes and read a few blog posts on my iPhone. Tory's back to sleep in 10 minutes so I leave her room, then use the restroom before crawling back into bed myself.

12:55am: Tory cries out for "mama" again. Rinse and repeat. I go back to her room and tuck her back into bed. "Rub back, Mom," Tory asks and I do as requested. While I'm sitting on the edge of her bed, I contemplate the next few months and how on Earth I'm going to manage two kiddos awake in the middle of the night. Part of my brain knows I should give Tory some tough love by returning her to bed and walking out until she learns I won't stay with her until she falls asleep ... and the other part of me just wants to soak up the last few nights of semi-restful sleep before I'm up all night with a newborn. With four weeks left until baby, I just don't have the fight in me to tackle sleep-training right now. Following this mid-night deep thoughts on parenting session, I glance at Tory and see she's back to sleep. I exit her room and return to my own bed, half-tempted to get up for a snack since I'm wide awake now.

2:00am: Tory's awake again. Good lord, child. No need to reach over for the video monitor this time because I hear her door handle click open and the pitter patter of little feet on the hardwood floor. I get out of bed again and meet Tory as she's entering into the master bedroom, return her back to her own bed and stay with her again until she falls asleep. This time, she's more awake and shouting demands for "my drink!" and "my monkey!" as I retrieve the various items scattered around her bed. Tory's asleep and I'm back in my own bed at 2:25am. I want to read the Internet on my phone, but force myself to lay quietly in the dark and fall back asleep myself.

6:20am: Andi wakes me up to say he's leaving for work. We briefly discuss our departure plans for the lake cabin this evening and he kisses me good-bye. I close my eyes again.

6:40am: Tory's awake. I hear her door handle open and her little feet running into the master bedroom. She's carrying her pillow, monkey, baby doll and sippy cup in her arms and says "Wake up, Mom. Okay, honey? Turn light on," as she stands by the side of my bed. I pull her into bed with me, turn on the bedside table lamp as requested and roll out of bed (literally, roll out of bed in my giant pregnant body) to use the bathroom again. While I'm up, I get Tory an applesauce packet from the kitchen, then turn on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in the bedroom to buy myself 20 more minutes of laying in bed.

7:00am: Mickey Mouse is over and Tory tells me she needs to potty. I take her to the bathroom and I'm surprised to find her nighttime diaper completely dry. Go, Tory! Our new double stroller is on display in the dining room (Andi must have put it together late last night when he got home from work). Tory plays with the new stroller while I make breakfast. We bought some apple cider donuts at the apple orchard yesterday, so I give Tory and I each one to eat, along with yogurt and oatmeal mixed with peanut butter and banana. We both have orange juice and also have a cup of coffee.

Top: Tory and Baby Boy in the womb
Bottom Left: Can't live without my morning coffee
Bottom Right: Tory taking baby for a ride in the new double stroller 

7:30am: Tory and I sit down at the dining room table to eat. I've been dying to try an apple cider donut this fall to satisfy my latest pregnancy craving. It's ... decent. Perhaps better called a sugar cake donut? I don't really taste any apple flavor. Am I suppose to? I eat my breakfast while checking Instagram and emails on my phone. Tory's too hung up by the donut's sugar dust on her hands to eat much of anything. "My hands! My hands!" she shouts until I get a washcloth to wipe them off for her.

7:45am: Tory announces she has to use the bathroom, then says "fits me" as she climbs onto the step stool and kid's toilet ring. "Watch me? Sit right there," she commands by directing me to sit on the side of the bathtub. Three weeks in, potty training is going really well in our house. Tory's very excited about the toilet ring and step stool for the bathroom I bought her a few days ago.

7:50am: Tory plays with the new double stroller again while I clean up the breakfast mess. "Okay, honey? Ready, set, go!" she says to her baby doll buckled in the front seat of the stroller. She's pushing and pulling baby all through the kitchen, dining room and living room.

8:15am: I do a load of laundry, make Tory's bed, our bed, pick up the kitchen and load/start the dishwasher. My little helper is right beside me, as always. Still crazy to see baby boy clothes as I fold and put laundry away.

Top Left: Laundry Room
Top Right: My little laundry helper
Bottom: Blue (!!) baby boy clothes

8:30am: I usher Tory into my bedroom so I can get ready for the day. I try on fifty-million maternity shirts and finally settle on one that still somewhat fits (I'm getting to that stage in pregnancy where shirts are no longer long enough to cover my belly), then brush my teeth and put on make-up. Tory likes to help me get ready in the mornings, so she climbs up on the master bathroom toilet beside me and reaches for anything/everything on the pedestal sink. "Need brush teeth," she says. "Need eyes, honey," asking me to put eyeshadow and mascara on her face. I pretend to do so and she replies with "thanks."

Tory started using her first term of endearment this week and everything's 'honey' if you haven't noticed. I couldn't figure out where in the world she learned this until I heard myself ask her, "do you have to potty, honey?" Ah, yes. Like mother, like daughter.

8:45am: Next, I get Tory dressed in a gray Gap sweater dress with white leggings. I gather some hair clips and ready her toothbrush with toothpaste while calling for her to come back into my bedroom to finish getting ready. "I know!" she shouts at me from her room. (Already with the back talk, geesh).
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9:00am: We load into the car for music class. Before we're even out the drive-way, Tory pinches her finger in her sunglasses and starts to cry. I stop and console her before we're finally on our way. I turn on her Music Together CD to get us warmed up for class. When I start singing along, Tory says, "No, no, Mommy!" Apparently, my singing skills aren't up to snuff.

9:30am: We arrive at music class which is located in a local church basement. I take Tory to use the bathroom before class, then we sing and dance our little hearts out for the next 45 minutes. My friend, Lindsey, and her daughters Ashley and Taylor are in the class with us. Tory's completely obsessed with Baby Taylor (4 months old) and spends half the time climbing on Lindsey's lap to get closer to the baby. In return, Ashley spends her class time crawling on my lap in search of some non-baby love.

10:15am: Lindsey and I chat with a few other mothers in the class while the girls run circles in the church lobby. Ashley and Tory find some churchy books on a shelf and tell us they're "reading books." Soon, they're running up and down the hallway, gazing outside the window and smelling the mums in flower pots as we slowly make our way outside to our cars. We're in route home at 11:00am.

Teenage Toddlers
Tory and her BFF Ashley at music class

11:30am: Back at home, Tory uses the bathroom (no accidents all morning!) and I start to make lunch. Since she didn't eat much for breakfast, I decide to make Tory's favorite meal - grilled cheese and tomato soup - for lunch so she'll get some food in her belly. "Tory help, too!" she says so I pull Tory up on the counter top to help me assemble our meal. I serve up lunch with fresh, local Sweet 16 apples we picked up at the orchard last weekend.

Noon: We're finished with lunch. My big girl devoured 1 1/2 grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup. I continue to be shocked by the amount of food this teeny girl can put away when she wants to. This is also the messiest meal she eats, by far. I wipe tomato soup off her hands, face and legs, then give in to her request for a "bath" in the sink. While she plays in the bubbles, I clean up the remainder of the lunch dishes.

12:30pm: Tory heads to the living room to play kitchen with her baby dolls and I sit on the sofa next to her to work on one of my Christmas sewing projects. Obviously, it's not the best time to hand-sew with a sharp needle as Tory continuously climbs all over my legs and the couch cushions beside me, so I put the sewing away. I ask Tory several times if she has to potty. "No thanks, Mom" she tells me. Naturally, she poops in her underwear about five minutes later. It's her first bathroom accident all week, darn it.

1:00pm: Time to read a few stories before nap time. I change Tory into a diaper for nap and we crawl into my bed to snuggle up and read together. Lately, the girl's got ants in her pants when it comes to bedtime and it drives me nuts. She wiggles all over the bed and refuses to sit still and listen to books being read to her. I ask her to lay down nicely a gazillion times and finally she jacks me in the face with her foot while she's horsing around. Okay! Storytime's over. I carry her into her bedroom to take a nap. Now, I know naps/bedtime should be the sweetest time for a mother and her child, but I dread them. Fourteen different times a week (plus all the times I put her back in bed during the night), I fight Tory and sleeping. It gets old.

1:30pm: Toss, turn, toss, turn. "Mommy, hot!" (Tory kicks her blankets off). "Mommy, cold!" (I cover her back up). And, repeat. Today, she's asleep by 1:40pm and I breathe a sigh of relief as I exit her room.

1:45pm: I do another load of laundry downstairs and pick up toys in the living room. I should pack for the cabin. I probably should do some meal planning for the weekend. I had good intentions of making an apple crisp to use up some of the apples from the orchard. But, I'm freaking tired. I sit down on the couch in the three-season porch, turn on the TV and relax.

3:15pm: Tory's up from her nap. She climbs out of bed and finds me sitting on the porch. Now I wish I would've taken a nap myself since she slept for 1 hour 45 minutes, which is a fairly long time for her. Tory's a little fussy while she wakes up so we snuggle together on the couch for a while.

3:45pm: Andi texts and says he'll be home from work around 4:30pm. Are we ready to go when he arrives, he asks? Um, no. I haven't packed yet. I pull my behind off the couch and pack clothes and food for the cabin this weekend. It doesn't take me long to ready a bag since I do it nearly every weekend. Andi leaves a set of clothes and toiletries at the cabin to use, but I don't have enough maternity clothes to get by doing that myself and I'd miss too many of Tory's cute clothes and shoes to leave her stuff up there. I toss together a few short and long-sleeve shirts and pants since it's suppose to be colder this weekend, underwear, pajamas, nighttime diapers for Tory and make-up and hair stuff for me. Done.

4:30pm: Andi's home and shortly afterwards, we're out the door for the 1 1/2 hour drive to the cabin. "Tory's cabin?" Tory asks Andi as he loads her into her car seat. "Daddy come, too?" By the time I settle into the front passenger seat, I'm panting and exhausted from scrambling around the house for the last 45 minutes. As we start off down the road, Andi shoots me a look of annoyance when he realizes I have an estimated 15 miles until I'm out of gas in my SUV. Oops, I meant to get gas after music, but forgot. We pass two gas stations as we approach the highway entrance ramp and Andi tells me he's going to try to get as far out of the Cities before stopping to fill up. Now I'm the one rolling my eyes at him.

5:00pm: We stop for gas just outside a northwest suburb. I guess Andi was right, we beat most of the traffic through town. I'm already feeling car sick, as has been the case during most of the pregnancy. I sit stiffly in my seat with the cool air vents blowing in my face and concentrate on not throwing up in the car. Ugh.

5:30pm: We pull off in a small town along the way because Tory says she has to potty. Andi offers to take her inside the gas station while I sit and continue to feel nauseous. Andi says Tory successfully used the bathroom and her pants are still dry. Wahoo! He loads her into the car and we're back on the road.

6:00pm: We stop (again!) at The Old Log Cabin for dinner. I'm feeling guilty for not preparing something for dinner to eat when we arrive tonight, but Andi turns to me and says he could care less. Thank you, husband. Inside the restaurant, we order fried pickles off the appetizer menu. I'm still feeling a little sick to my stomach, but I know these will make me feel better. YUM. Andi orders battered shrimp for his meal, I order a crispy chicken salad and Tory has grilled cheese and fries. This is our first time at The Old Log Cabin and we are big fans. Service was speedy and friendly and our food is all delicious. By the end of dinner, I'm feeling much better with food in my belly and time out of the car for a bit.

Tory and Daddy at dinner

Is there anything better than deep fried pickles?

7:30pm: We (finally!) arrive at our lake cabin. Andi and I unpack the car while Tory runs to the living room and drags out all her toys. She forgot her beloved Minnie Mouse stuffed animal here last weekend, so she's excited to be reunited again. (I catch her giving Minnie a hug and kiss - so cute). It's funny to me how different Andi and I are at the cabin. When he arrives here, he jumps right into cabin projects. Tonight, he immediately starts opening packages he's had shipped here and starts installing a new light fixture in the bathroom. I like to ... sit down and relax, so I do just that.

Has to "help" Daddy ... but hates the loud noise of the drill

8:00pm: It's already 30 minutes past Tory's bedtime, but she's in good spirits playing toys in the living room while Andi moves onto updating the hardware on drawers and cabinets. We're having a nice time talking and listening to country music, so I let Tory stay up a little longer to play. She tries to shut the sliding glass door because it's "too windy," but she can't manage it on her own. "Help me, Daddy," she says, "tough one," as they slide it closed together.

8:30pm: Alright, time for pajamas, books and bedtime. I get Tory ready for bed and read stories to her in her big girl bed at the cabin. We have about five kid's books here and I've read them so many times I could recite them with my eyes closed. Tory can recite them too, and usually does right alongside me.

9:30pm: Tory's finally asleep, so I roll out of her bed and go back upstairs to find Andi watching a television show in the living room. I'm ... pooped. He asks me if I want to watch a show together, but I decline. I just want to go to sleep. So, to bed I go.

11:00pm: I hear Tory cry out "mama, mama" from outside our bedroom door. She's awake and has come all the way up from the mid-level to retrieve me. I sleepily drag myself out of bed (Andi says I grunt - ha!) and return Tory back to her bedroom. I crawl into bed with her and pass out. I'm exhausted and end up sleeping here for the night. I don't hear another thing until "Wake up, Mommy!" at 6:20am Saturday morning.

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