four months ago

Four months ago I met a happiness I had never known. He came in the form of a little boy, and he is absolute pure joy.

Dear Ivar,
You are four months today and growing bigger and bigger. I can’t get over how much you have learned lately. In the past two months you have gone from involuntary movements with your arms to sloppy attempts in reaching, to grabbing with confidence and success. I was so amazed at how quickly this progression occurred.

You make the funniest sounds. When we tickle your belly, you lift your legs to your chest and grunt a loud guttural grunt. When you are excited and proud you inhale a lot of air tightly in your throat and make a sort-of bull frog sound. You talk and babble all day long. And smile all the time. all. the. time. When your auntie Lisa babysat you on Saturday morning she texted us and wrote “ridiculously happy kid.” We loved getting that text.

Your sleep schedule is pretty great. We were trying to self-adjust your long stretch of sleep and just threw that plan out the window. You are good and letting us know what you need, and we’re taking your cues. Lately you will sleep for 10-12 hours, waking up only twice. We feel very, very fortunate. And way better rested.

You have decided to reject the pacifier. Bummer. But instead you enjoy trying to eat any part of your hand and we can hear you slirping and smacking in your crib long before you officially let us know you are awake each morning.

You can now roll over! Fully, on your own. For a while you had a pesky arm that held you up, but somehow that arm is no longer an obstacle. So with this new trick, gone are the days of laying you on the couch or the bed or the ottoman. If I am going to multitask then you have to be on the floor.

I had a friend come over recently and you had just woken up from a nap and for the very first time, you played shy. It melted my heart. You buried your head into my shoulder and peeked out with a little grin until you were more awake. But I will never ever forget that moment of realizing that I am your safe place.

Your neck and abs are super strong. When I put you in your car seat, you try to sit upright. And will try for a long, long time. I am impressed at the strength this must take, especially since you’re harnessed in! You like your exosaucer and play gym lately. It’s so fun to watch you learn and discover.

I think the thing that I love the very most about you right now is how you make other people smile. You smile and grin at everyone and seem to have a knack at day brightening. There are ladies who try to sit by us each Sunday in church so they can watch you during the service. You are quite the charmer.

Love you so much, baby boy.

one hundred and three

I met Hildur at a schmoozy event at Gustavus where I was the student representative hosting her table and she was one of the loyal Gusties who keeps the school afloat. She invited me to stop by her home sometime and I assumed she was just being polite. I ran into her months later at church and she asked quite sternly why I had never stopped by.

The next Friday I rang her doorbell and she invited me in to have a seat on her davenport. And then she served me cherry cobbler. We've been friends ever since.

We shared lots of Friday afternoons together when I lived in St. Peter and found that we shared a whole lot in common. Both of our families have a history of dairy farming, both of us were Gustavus education majors, both of us worked a lot with the youth in our churches. I addressed her Christmas cards one year and she always left a welcome back message on my voicemail when I came back to campus after a holiday break.

When I graduated, she let me hold my graduation party at her place. After graduation we talked a lot on the phone. If I ever drove through St. Peter either to my grandma's or back to Nebraska I'd try to pop in for a surprise visit. If I was ever overdue in calling her she would let me know it, making me promise that I wouldn't wait another three months to call her again. She loved a good life update and always asked follow up questions from our conversations months earlier. The woman was sharp.

My folks called yesterday to tell me that Hildur passed away in her sleep in her own home. She was one hundred and three. The news knocked the wind out of me because I have been meaning to call her ever since Ivar was born.

Regret is such a terrible feeling. It's such a bad place to find yourself because regret has everything to do with the past and things that can't be undone. I am so sad that I didn't call her in the past four months.

It's tricky because I had thought about calling her many, many times, but I knew it would be a long conversation and I was never able or willing to give up my window of naptime, personal time, whatever-time to actually give her a call. I can justify it any which way, I'm a new mom bla bla bla...but in the end, it still stinks. I would have loved to have told her all about my baby boy and I know she would have loved to hear every detail.

It's amazing how cleary I can hear her voice when I think about her. Her classic response to all of my commentary was always, "well that's just it."

So tonight as I think about a dear friend and a decade of sweet memories and a missed opportunity to celebrate my baby with a faithful cheerleader, I am left eager to make a few phone calls and sieze the day. Because we don't know if we have another day or one hundred and three years. (insert Hildur agreeing here, "well that's just it.")

wardrobe overhaul

Ivar is into his 6 month outfits now. People. This is his third complete costume change in his almost 4 months of life and I am green with envy. You know why? Because I want a complete costume change too. I want some new duds. My closet is filled with tops and bottoms that have been around for eons. So long that today while I was standing in front of the mirror for the bazillionth time with my baby boy, I noticed my elbow had popped out of my long sleeve tshirt. It's time for new clothes.

It's not like I haven't shopped in eons. I have. But when I come home from a shopping trip, it's usually with one or two articles of clothing that quite likely were on sale and don't necessarily make an outfit with anything else other than my trusty jeans. There is a large part of me that wishes my outfits were sold just like Ivars- pants, socks, hat, shirt, hoodie all connected on one fancy hanger.

I've been thinking about how I might strategically build a wardrobe. Rory and I have a practical budgeting system worked out so that I get a certain amount of "Becca Fun" money each month. That money is to cover all clothing, shoes, hair, meals/coffee out with friends, personal gifts, music and anything else that isn't quite "Joint Spending." If I'm really going to build a wardrobe, it will be done out of that money, and probably mean that each month I can get one or two pieces to add to the fun.

I've been looking up helpful tips on where to start, what pieces are the most important etc. etc. And then I remembered a super helpful and wonderfully insightful conversation I had on this very topic with my sistah Sara. I was packing for Slovakia and asked her how she packs for her time on the tour bus. She'll be out for good chunks of time and has to be pretty picky with what she brings along because there just isn't that much room.

She told me she always starts with her shoes. She picks her casual shoes and her dressy shoes, and all outfits must go with those two pair of shoes. If her dressy shoes are black, then every concert outfit must go with those black shoes. Her casual shoes will dictate what pants can come, and finally what tops. When it comes to tops, she brings layers along. Long sleeve shirts that can go under t-shirts, and finally hoodies, cardigans and jackets that coordinate.

Shoes first. Brilliant. Doesn't that sort of surprise you? When I pack I always begin with tops first. And then I'm always so caught off guard when I can't fit all five needed pairs of shoes into my suitcase.

So I am thinking about taking this same approach to my wardrobe overhaul. I want to get quality pieces that can mix and match with each other. Not all of the stand-a-lone clothes I see in my closet and then complain, "I have nothing to wear!" Or require me to run out to find another pair of shoes that would make that outfit complete.

Has anyone done this before? Updated your closet? Any favorite pieces in your closet that you can't live without?

Now I'm not planning on buying everything brand new. Of course I have clothes to wear. My very first step will be to go through my closet and take an inventory of what I do have. And then figure out what pieces would help build the most outfits. (By the way, my cousins Sarah and Kathy were in 4H growing up and for their Little Miss Fashion competition they had to take pictures of each piece of their wardrobe, write about how much it cost, what else they could wear with that piece, what accessories they would need, and what they would purchase to further their clothing options each day. They did this for years, and you know what? They have incredible skills! They always look so put together. What a smart and practical life skill to learn!)

So this will be me this weekend. Channeling my inner Little Miss Fashion.

Dear Taylor

Dear Taylor,

You don't know me. And I don't really know you either. But I'm starting to get a feel for who you are, and I'm worried. I believe you had my phone number before me. I am assuming this because a lot of your friends still call and ask for you. And then most of them ask if I have your new number. Hmmm..

But Taylor, I'm just going to be honest with you. I think you're going down the wrong road and I think this for two reasons. First, I get a lot of texts with your number asking if I want to buy any weed. I don't.

Second, your cousin Steve and I texted for a while on Christmas Eve... he seemed to be reaching out, saying he was hopeful he'd see you around at some point during the next week when the family was all together. I was confused because I, too, have a cousin Steve and so your cousin and I had a discombobulated text conversation until I figured out he wasn't actually my cousin Steve. But I got the impression that your cousin Steve is worried about you and really wants you at family gatherings again.

My hope is that you got a new phone number so that you can turn your life around. Your friends can keep calling and texting me. Honestly, it's entertaining since I'm pretty detached from the whole drug scene.

I wish you well Taylor. Be good to yourself. Just say no to drugs. And call your cousin Steve sometime. He seems nice.

Sincerely,
Becca

shocking news

After almost four months of excuses, I finally clipped Ivar's finger nails. I have been downright phobic. I can't remember if I was present for or if I was just traumatized by the story, but my sister once clipped her firstborns fingernails and accidentally drew blood. Either way, I have been avoiding the clippers. Instead we have filed Ivar's nails, but this takes a lot longer and still left him with little razors on the ends of his fingers.

So today I picked up those baby clippers with great bravery and held tight to my little guys hand. And you know what? It wasn't that bad.