Busy

Hi Sadie Bug.

Guess what? You're ONE!

I can hardly believe it. 

People always told me how fast time flies when you have kids, but I couldn't really comprehend what they meant until now. Let's just say it's bittersweet.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. The craziness all started when we found out we're moving to Florida...how bizarre is that? What are the chances that we'd both serve missions there, and then move back a couple years later with our BABY?! Our SADIE! It still doesn't feel real. 

As sad as we are to leave our wonderful Texas friends, it's a great move for Daddy's job. Plus we found a great house! You'll have loads of room to run around. 

We move in 9 days. YIKES! It'll be our 4th move in 6 months. 

Right after we got the Florida news, your amazing great-grandfather passed away. He lived a beautiful, full life, but it was still hard to accept. You and I got a last-minute flight to Utah and made it to his funeral. It was a wonderful, tearful, spiritual experience.  

After that, we flew to California and met up with Dad for a very quick weekend trip to attend Alec and Courtney's wedding. It was amazing, but you were pretty grumpy from lack of sleep. (Sorry, sweetie)! 

We got back just in time to celebrate Daddy's birthday. We went on a family date to P.F.Chang's. You loved the lettuce wraps. But let's be honest. This is America. Who doesn't love those things?

The day after that our friends Dana and Aaron came out to visit. We had an awesome Thanksgiving with them, and we all loved spoiling you on your FIRST BIRTHDAY! You wouldn't even touch the cupcakes I made for you. Not surprised. 

This week, it's just been you and me. Dad's back in Florida for work. Your cuteness keeps interrupting packing, but trust me when I say, I don't mind at all. 

There are very few things in life I truly hate...in short: spiders, mosquitoes, sharks, garbanzo beans ...and packing. 

Five days after we get to Florida, we'll be flying to California for Christmas. 

[[I swear, you've been on about 25 flights in your 12 months of life. Thank goodness you're such a happy baby!]]

There's much more that's happened the last few weeks, but really, I just want to give you Sadie highlights---

Lately, when I'm sitting on the floor with you, you'll walk up to me, get super close to my face, and pull my hair over your head as if it's your own. Then you giggle, and peek up at me through your long blonde lashes.  

You can't get enough music in your life right now. Whenever you hear anything resembling dance tunes, you shake your little bum, bend your knees, and sway side to side. You're such a party.

You've been extra snuggly lately. I feel like you're really understanding that we're your Mommy and Daddy. I love that you love us.

Your hair's been growing; it's starting to curl the same way mine did when I was little. Wispy, curly, all over the place. The back is extra curly.

You're o b s e s s e d with goldfish. You'd be perfectly happy if that's all we fed you. Hours after lunch, you'll hunt down the rogue ones that made their way to the floor and quietly chomp. All the while, peeking over your shoulder to see if I see you. I do, Sadie, hahaha, I do.

You're a big fan of the green smoothies I've been making you lately. Unfortunately, you're absolutely TERRIFIED of the blender. I mean, purple face, DEEP frowny mouth, crocodile tears, screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs, SCARED. Poor girl. 

You've started "reading" to yourself. All throughout the day, you'll grab a book, walk around, fall on your bum, and turn the pages while your sweet little voice narrates your version of the story. It's probably my favorite thing to watch. You always have just loved reading books.

I could go on, but it seems you're ready for dinner. 

Also, packing awaits. Gross.

I love you.

xo//xo 

mommy

P.S. SADIE. IT TAKES ABOUT 4 DAYS TO THAW A TURKEY. DON'T FORGET. 

Luck

Sweet Sadie.

Your father and I are ultimately good people. 

We make good decisions. We try to be kind to anyone we meet. We work hard. 

But it seems we have an undeniable disease of bad luck. 

Since I last wrote to you, a few things have happened.

-Our landlord decided he wanted to sell the home we were renting. He said we could stay if we wanted, but after dealing with realtors, and showings etc., we realized moving would ultimately be a better option. We hired a moving company...they arrived 5 hours late. We had purchased a new washer and dryer...they arrived 2 hours late. You and I sat on the floor in our empty new home waiting for everything to show up, namely, your crib, and for hours, it never did. You were exhausted and miserable with nowhere to sleep. 

Oh, and did I mention we had a guest in town during this? My best friend Courtney was here visiting, enjoying all the chaos as well. Poor thing. 

-Back to the new washer and dryer. 

After the first wash, we realized something was wrong with the washer. A few days passed by and the repair guy was finally able to come address it. Turns out it was simply a design flaw. (SADIE, DON'T BUY SAMSUNG APPLIANCES). We needed to exchange them. 

[Please imagine in your mind the mounds of laundry piling up in the background of the washer/dryer saga]. 

-We had to quickly pick out new ones because my mom (grandma) was coming into town a few days later. Finally, a new pair was installed, and hallelujah, there's nothing wrong with them.

But wait. 

A couple days into grandma's visit, I was sitting in my room while you slept, and something caught my eye...water. LOTS of water. Soapy, fast-spreading water, was flooding our newly-moved-into-home. Grandma and I grabbed every available towel, and while slipping and laughing, we quickly tried to absorb the disaster. [We're on day 5 waiting for the repair guy. Again, imagine the laundry piles].

-Meanwhile, my Jeep was at the dealer for the hundredth time while they tried to figure out why it randomly dies. We've been to multiple places, and spent about $1,500 so far in repairs that still aren't solving the problem. 

They finally discovered what's wrong with it, and the fix is over $2,000. 

So, we get to sell it. And buy a new one. Again. 

This isn't even everything, but certainly the highlights.

Dad and I normally laugh at all the different things that happen to us, but after the flood, I was feeling depleted. I thought to myself, it's just too much. I looked at the massive mound of dripping towels I now had to wash in the tub. The couches and chairs, all strewn about the place like there was just a terrible earthquake. Water still seeped out from under the floorboards. 

And then you woke up.

This little sunbeam, jumping on her bed. Smiling and singing her little heart out. 

I scooped you up and we sat on the couch in the middle of the living room.  

For the next hour, you gave me the sweetest snuggles and smiles I'd ever experienced. 

You sang and laughed and loved me. 

Sadie girl, you legitimately "kissed me, and made it all better". 

You have this incredible ability to fill people's hearts in a matter of seconds. 

(Clearly, Daddy and I know that, we're your parents) 

No matter where we go, people stop and just have to interact with you. You draw them in, and fill them up. You have the brightest, happiest little spirit in you, and it honestly nourishes those you come in contact with. 

I bet you think I'm making this up, but it's true. 

So little Sadie, thank you for being optimism personified.  

You rescue Daddy and I more than you'll ever know.

xo//xo

mommy

P.S. you're walking now!

Hard Times

Hey sweetheart.
I want to tell you about Sunday.
I'm currently in the Relief Society Presidency at church, so Sundays are generally pretty busy. Normally, Dad and I are able to tag-team to get different things done while loving and entertaining you, but with him in Virginia still, it's a bit of a different story.
Sunday morning, I woke up at 5:00 am to get ready, finish the work I had procrastinated, and organize/pack everything for the day before you woke up. Eventually, I heard you talking in your crib; your little voice sounded sad. You're teething right now, so it's understandable. Luckily you're not really a crier, but when you're unhappy, you use a whiny, grumpy voice. (Makes me laugh 90% of the time, you're just so cute).
You kicked and squirmed while I tried to quickly get your dress on. You had little to no interest in breakfast. I put you down while I tried to load the car, and you started screaming as if I was going to leave there alone for the rest of the day. I raced as fast as I could, got everything set, and buckled you in your car seat. Still grumpy. Still sad.
Then, just like every Sunday, I remembered something I forgot.
Ran upstairs, got my glasses.
Ran back upstairs, got your pacifier.
Ran back upstairs, grabbed a blanket for you.
Ran back upstairs, got your favorite book.
Finally, we're both in the car, on our way. I had planned everything out to get there early so I could work on some things, but clearly, those extra minutes were now gone.
We arrived. I had to bring in your stroller because to carry you, the diaper bag, and the four binders I bring each week is, simply put, a death wish.
Fast forward through three hours of wrestling, coaxing, working, talking, listening, praying, reading, rereading, and writing, and we're on our way home. You screamed the majority of the way due to no nap, and sore gums.
When I pulled into the garage, I heard you calmly exhale, as if you knew we were home. I picked you up, and you instantly fell asleep on my shoulder.
I carried you upstairs, hugged you tight for a moment, and quietly transferred you to your crib.
Then, I walked downstairs, sat down, and cried.
I missed Daddy.
I felt guilty for losing my patience with you.
I wasn't able to complete a task I had been given.
I felt I didn't discover a spiritual answer that I longed for.
I was physically and emotionally spent.

Why do I want to share this with you?

If you're anything like me, you're going to feel like a walking disaster most of the time.
Like you're a step behind all the real grownups around you.
As you catch each new thing thrown at you, you drop two others.
That you're trying so hard, but it's all for naught.

I want you to know that it's ok.
I need you to know that it's ok.

No aspect of your life will ever be perfect. There will always be failure; there will always be disappointment.
That doesn't mean you're a failure. Doesn't mean you're a disappointment.
It means you're going to experience a lot of good, bad, and ugly in your life, and your reaction to it all is what cultivates identity.

So choose now how you'll react, and who you'll create.

[[And just for the record, it's totally OK to cry sometimes]]


In other news, you woke up about 15 minutes ago, and you've been trying SO HARD to type something since you came in here, so...here ya go..

l lh  uj uyht gy vjynthgbgtrglnpgbiooijiyunyuh hluulz
 fgbteybtgf5tbr
-Sadie, 9 mos

You woke up in the funniest mood, you've honestly been laughing so hard since you've joined me in here. I just look at you, and you die. You're the happiest baby alive!

Time for dinner and long walk.

xo//xo
mommy

Happy Thoughts

Oh Sadie. Where to begin.
I love you. How about I start there.
It's been non-stop Mommy-Sadie time, but I STILL feel I can't get enough of you.
I love how you stand up against my legs anytime, all the time.
I love how you play with my hair whenever we read, or sing, or snuggle.
I love the mornings with you. OH the mornings. You are so sweet and cozy in that morning light. We have a routine, you know. You wake us up with your sweet little voice talking all about who knows what. You raise your little arms as I take you out of your crib. I change your diaper, and bring you into bed with me (and Daddy, normally). Then we talk and snuggle while you crawl on my face. You eat a little, then snuggle. Then crawl, then eat. Then stare at me with your enormous blue eyes while I tell you how much we missed you during the night. If I had it my way, we'd stay there til sundown. But, eventually, you try to leap off the bed to enjoy your own little adventures.
I love your bright smile. I swear it gives off vitamin d to those that see it. No matter how stressed or frustrated I am, when you look up at me with that big goofy grin, all negativity melts away.
I love how wild you already are. Pretty sure you get that from Daddy.
I love how easily you laugh. I often feel inadequate as a mother, but as I hear you giggle all day long, it assures me that if all else fails with parenting, at least you're happy.
I LOVE how you love your Daddy. I'm almost positive he's your favorite, and that's fine with me. When he comes home from work, you go absolutely crazy in the best way. You laugh your hardest with him, my dear. I hope you always remember that.
I love the back of your neck. I tickle you lightly there, and you giggle as you get the shivers.
I love playing chase with you. You freak out and SCREAM with laughter whenever I say "IIII'm gonna get ya..!" Then you crawl your lil heart out, always looking back to make sure I haven't stopped playing.
I love watching you sleep. Right now you're upstairs snoozing on your belly with your lil bum in the air. It kills me how cute you are.
Sadie girl, I love loving you. I know that sounds silly, but I mean it. The purpose of my life is to love you, and you make it so easy, and so fulfilling.
You're a tiny little 9 month old, and you have the power to change hearts. To change lives.
Keep that in mind as you read this as a (?) year old. What all are you capable of now? Probably more than you know.

xo//xo
mommy

Your Arrival

Hey you.

This morning you threw up in a niiiiice looong line right on Daddy's side of the bed. Lucky for him, he's in Virginia right now on a business trip.

So. Do you wanna know your birth story? I haven't recorded it yet, so hopefully my memory isn't too fuzzy by now.

Daddy and I got married October 18th, 2013, and we both wanted to start having kids almost right away. Luckily, I got pregnant in February after only a couple weeks of trying. Your due date was November 25th, just a day after Dad's birthday. 

Now, as much as I love you, being pregnant was THE WORST. I was on two different medications because I couldn't stop throwing up. I'd just crawl back and forth from the bathroom to the bed. Luckily, Daddy took such good care of me. 

When you started kicking, everything changed. Yes I was still sick, and my back killed, but feeling you live and learn in my belly was the most beautiful motivation. 

Hiccups were the norm for you, along with back arches, and STRONG kicks and punches into my ribs. We'll just say you were trying to hug me, right? 

Chewing ice was the norm for me. That was the only craving I had really, but BOY I HAD TO HAVE THAT ICE. 

Fast forward to November 25th. 

I had an appointment that morning to see if I was at all dilated. Dad came with in between class and baseball practice. We were so eager to meet you, sweetheart, that when we learned that I was only at a 1, I wanted to scream. (When you have your first child, and you're 40 weeks pregnant, you'll understand). The plan was to wait until I went into labor myself, and if I didn't they'd induce me a week later. 

November 26th, 4:00 am.

I was up most of the night feeling so sick and uncomfortable. I was having some minor contractions, but nothing that seemed pre-labor. 

All of a sudden I sprint to the bathroom and throw up. And throw up. And throw up. And throw up. And have diarrhea. Over and over again. This lasted, non- stop, for 12 hours. 

Dad was getting super worried. He went out and got me Gatorade, and kept calling the nurse to see what we should do. I wasn't really having contractions, so going to the hospital wouldn't do much. 

4:00pm.

Contractions begin. I was so weak at this point, I could hardly move to brace myself from the pain. They were instantly close together, so Dad said "NOPE. THAT'S IT. WE'RE GOING." I started nervously laughing. I'm a procrastinator, and hadn't packed a hospital bag yet, so Dad threw some stuff in a bag, and I hobbled my way into the car. 

We lived about 4 minutes away from the hospital. I remember that drive was so surreal. Dad and I kept looking at each other like "WAIT. This is actually happening...Oh my gosh. We're going to meet her...WHAT IS HAPPENING!??" I remember laughing a lot during that time. Your father is the best husband, because he can make the scariest, craziest, worst experiences the absolute best. He calmed my nerves by making me laugh so hard. I hope your future husband does just the same. 

We walked in and they led us to our room. After a few tests, we learned that I still wasn't far along. I was at a 2, if I remember correctly. However, the contractions just kept on coming. I remember Grandma had told me that when she had us, (Aunt Sydney, Uncle Calvin, and me) that she had tons of contractions, but they didn't cause dilation. 

It was miserable. 

Luckily, they said we could stay. 

Contractions. Again and again. I was so weak and exhausted, the thought of trying to push a baby out of me seemed impossible. 

Dad was so sweet. He'd watch the monitor and warn me when the contraction was coming. At this point I was crying and shaking from the pain. And then, an angel walked in the room.

The anesthesiologist.

After the epidural went in, I remember almost passing out. I was shaking violently, and threw up, and then something happened to your heartbeat, so they put an oxygen mask on me, and did something else, I can't remember. It all happened so fast, I remember crying because it scared me. 

After everything calmed down, it was just a waiting game.
Eventually, our awesome nurse informed us that it was time to push. I suddenly felt very nervous. I hadn't read any birthing books, or gone to any classes. Honestly though, I'm glad I didn't. I think my ignorance allowed me to fully trust and rely on my nurse, my doctor, and my instincts.
The pushing time flew by. It only took thirty minutes, and you were here.
Thanksgiving morning. 5:06am. 7lbs 10oz. 19.5in.
I remember Daddy saying " Oh my gosh, I see her head, I see her head!"
And then I got to see you.
This perfect tiny little girl.
Dad and I both started sobbing. It was hands-down the most spiritual moment either of us had experienced. We were instantly so in love with our little Sadie Jane.
Later that day, Dad started throwing up and had diarrhea too, sooo turns out that's not how I go into labor, we simply got the flu in a really bad way. Impeccable timing.

So there you have it, little one. One of the best days of our lives.
Also, while I wrote this out, you were crawling all over me, pulling my pants down, and pressing all of the computer keys. Excellent participation.

Now you're sleeping. I want to wake you up, but I won't. Promise.

xo//xo
mommy

"remember when.."

Hey tiny.
Confession. I'm a terrible journal writer.
I've purchased dozens of journals over the last 25 years, filled a couple pages, and forgotten about them like I will soon forget certain memories.
Yesterday in church, we learned about the importance of preserving the memories of our elderly. Their existence fades quickly in our minds when we don't have photos and stories to grasp on to.
It struck me how lazy I've been throughout my life. I've learned so many valuable lessons, and experienced some hilarious things that I so desperately want you to learn about when you're older, but I haven't taken 10 minutes each day to record said moments.
It fills me with regret, and I refuse to make the same mistake again.

Now, I'm not about to go back and write my personal history, but I can certainly start yours.
Daddy and I have had the time of our lives with you the last 8 months, and I want you to read all about it one day.
No, it won't give you bragging rights over your siblings. When they come along, this will be for them too.
But for now, Sadie Jane, I write to you.

xo//xo
mommy