These Busy Days

For Throwback Thursday -- something I wrote roughly three weeks ago (five weeks into two-under-two) but want to post for the archives.

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When I sit down to write it feels that I have so much trying to tumble out that all the words block themselves. It's silly really, because throughout my day, every day, I go through what I want to post and how I want to capture certain snapshots of this or that moment or dive into topics that I long to go deeper on. But then life happens, that life that consists of a newborn and a toddler, and another day slips by where I don't find time to capture these thoughts. And they build and build until I am here, spending precious moments writing about why I'm not writing what I've longed to write.

But this is my life currently.

Feed, diaper, repeat.
Feed, diaper, repeat.
Carry stray sock back to bedroom and old smoothie cup back to kitchen.
Eat.
Feed, diaper, repeat.
Laundry.
Re-spin laundry because of the god-awful washing machine.
Tummy time.
Blocks.
No, markers.
No, blocks.
ELMO.
ELMO!
Feed, diaper, repeat.
Hang diaper covers outside for proper UV cleansing power.
Ring out still wet diapers before dryer.
Another load.
Another load.
"ou-side, ou-side, ou-side."
No, smother Sybil.
Kiss Sybil.
Run away with Sybil's paci.
Feed, diaper, repeat.
Nap time.
Take what feels like one single long breath after getting Declan down and Sybi to sleep annnnd...
"Ma-ma!"
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.

It's an all out scramble to get necessities completed, while at the same time trying to slowly soak in these precious moments of growth and development that are happening day in and day out. So when there are moments where I let myself just be, where everyone is settled and asleep, I have choices to make. Do I go from the to-do list that caters to the house and productivity? Do I take this time to try to keep even a small flame lit under my hobbies? Or do I sleep? Because, well... sleep. And each day I've tried to rotate it around but it's hard. It's hard to choose pleasures over production, though it is truly just as important. And it's hard to realize that this list will never end, much like the laundry. The never-freakin'-ending laundry.

Adding in a second really has been far less intimidating than I had worried. It really helps that she sleeps (more like she's an olympic sleeper) and that the past few mornings I've woken up truly refreshed. But the monotony of the job can get intense, as I'm repeating the same actions over and over and over again, sometimes with very little to show for it. (Just children who've made it through the day, but you know, no biggie.) And this is not me complaining. I am lucky to have the pleasure of soaking them in while they grow. But once in a while, as in every day these days, I just wish that our house would magically clean itself over night or that I'll awake to find a fridge full of prepared plates for Declan's day.

What can I say? A girl can dare to dream...

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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Weekly Photos :: 4, 5, 6

This girl, man. I'm in love. Every night those words break free as we gaze at her sweet sleeping face. I love her in that way that makes you want to squeeze them so hard and kiss them all over and smoosh up nice and close. But of course I can't do all of these things since she's an infant, so a few kisses and cuddles and lots of "I love her"'s will have to do.

And sleep, oh sleep. What I was most afraid of. And as a gift of sanity I'm getting it, probably more than I was in pregnancy. She's a snoozing champ with a nighttime long stretch of 5-7 hours and shorter ones around 3, along with daytime naps every 1.5-2 hours. And while this is utterly incredible, it's also amazing to see her starting to notice the world. To recognize me and smile, big, face-melting grins and gurgles. And oh those baby sounds. Those sweet, sweet sounds. When they go from just crying to more finessed yelps and coos. And the soft breaths while they sleep. And the big, pre-historic grunts when they stretch. And the swallows and sighs as they nurse. Just writing these words makes me want to go kiss her some more. 

The idea that there was a time pre-Sybil blows my mind. The whole transition has gone so smoothly that it doesn't even feel like it happened. She was missing and now she's here. Plain and simple. 

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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Days Like This

There are days like today that fall so perfectly into place.

Where mornings are met with smiles and sugary bowls of cereal (of the "healthy" variety, of course.)
Where the market visited does not begin with "Whole Foods" but rather is a collection of stalls and flowers and eight dollar pickles.
Where everyone enjoys a nap around two o'clock, Peyton and me catty-corner on the couches bathed in sun and kids tucked away in their respective rooms.
Where our slower pace still allows things to get done, like laundry and plant watering and picture hanging.
Where I'm not annoyed at my husband and he's not annoyed at me.
Where I sit and nurse my girl while tearfully saying goodbye, yet again, to Harry Potter.
Where my dog walks serenely by my side as fireflies dance in the dusk and barbecue smoke scents the air.
And where I take moments to notice and appreciate all that's been given to me, followed by a good old fashioned relaxation in front of the tv.

So even with a Monday looming, a broken dryer that needs replacing, and all sorts of every day responsibilities to be done for the gagillionth time, I'll see today as the sort of ordinary that is every shade of beautiful.

(Cue photos that have little to do with today. Because in true Christina-ordinary-day fashion, the camera never came out.)

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So She'll One Day Believe That We Actually Took Pictures.

When Sybil comes to me one day whining and complaining about her lack of pictures and posts versus her brother's, I will first bring her here. And then she will possibly notice that there are still far fewer here than when her brother was a baby, and I will kindly put it all on him as I point out that all pictures reduced dramatically once he was truly mobile. And his capacity for destruction is incredible in a short amount of time, especially if he is competing for attention with a camera. So basically, we're thankful we caught these.

{first time.}

{cuz that's how he rolls. solo.}

{every.single.tummy time.}

{1 month.}

{6 weeks.}

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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Peacocks and Pizza

Every day Mr. D will pick up numerous things- a remote, a dog food can, a piece of carrot or sweet potato- and place it to his ear.

"Hewo?"

"Who's that?" We'll ask, though it's the same every time.

"Cea-cock?" He'll reply, smooshing the sweet potato chunk into his hair.

Of course. Peacock is apparently one for the phone.

"Yea? And what's peacock saying?!"

"Piz-za!" And this is always delivered with excellent eye contact, a smile, and emphatic nodding. Because clearly, whether he's ordering or peacock is, calling peacocks for pizza is truly exciting business.

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And though his fascination with peacocks began at Christmas, it was further fueled by a visit to our local peacock hang out, Mayfield Park. He insisted on wearing his hat and backpack the whole time since he just knew an adventure was at hand. 

{the first picture of me and my girl on this camera.}

 His sweet innocence just melts me all over.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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Sybil's Weekly Photos :: 1, 2, 3

This has been the pregnancy of the iPhone. We realized we took no official photos of me pregnant with our camera, just as we've only done a handful since Sybil was born. Picking up a camera while taking care of a toddler, newborn, large dog, and household just is a bit too much for my little self right now. (Which also explains the lack of those 52 Project photos I'd planned... ) But I'm determined to keep up with those weekly photos I loved with D. so whipped that Nikon out twice (true to fashion we missed week one) and snapped away.

And here you have it. The start of Sybi's weekly photo op. 

{this is all we got right before a violent spit-up event, so we went with it. bebe numero dos.}

As for how these first few weeks have been, they've sailed by. We lucked out with another baby that sleeps nice stretches (so far!). She has some fussy patches here and there which she fights through then passes out. Which means baby cuddling during tv time at night followed by a chunk of sleep for mama. And in the day? As long as she's moving, whether wrapped tight in the moby or driving in the car or relaxing in her swing, she's a happy camper.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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These Early, Messy Moments

My silence of nearly a month says it all- it's a bit crazy here. Not bad crazy or loud crazy or "what the freakity-freak are we doing?!" crazy, more just the we are in pure survival mode and have no time for any normal necessities like cleaning and cooking and shopping crazy. Which doesn't lead to hopping onto the blog.

Yesterday says it all. Following afternoon naps I loaded the kids in the car and headed to do a quick errand. This meant no shoes and pajamas for Declan, a baby that was fast asleep and thus not fed, and a mom who had forgotten to brush her teeth and was fairly stinky due to the fact that she was dressed for weather about 30 degrees colder. The errand was completed and right as I was about to pull onto our street, I took a left instead of a right and headed to a friend's. I realized that the fact that we were out, in a car, was a miracle in itself and if I was going to ever see her it had to be now. So we rolled up, I popped in some gum, and proceeded to have life breathed back into me in the form of toddlers playing, smoothie drinking, chatting with people over the age of two, and enjoying the lovely weather in a grassy backyard. That left turn was the best choice I've made this week, even if it meant walking around with a milk sticky stomach and a shirt a bit too sweaty out since taking my sweatshirt off in front of people with noses would have been downright mean.

Ha. Getting real there, but that's what I want to remember. These early, messy moments. Just like I want to remember moments like now, when my sweet seven and a half pound girl is cuddled asleep in my lap keeping me locked down to write this. When I have actually showered and am donning"real" clothes. When Declan is having a full nap that will refresh him for a playdate with neighbors.

This parenting two kids under two thing might take some getting used to, but I can already say that I already don't remember or want it any other way. These are my people, my hearts, and this is where I'm meant to be.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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