Eli - 23 Month Update

As usual for me lately, this post is coming super late! While I wrote the post about three weeks ago, I kept waiting for a chance to take different photos for this month as Eli wasn't in a very good mood the day we tried to - aka - he woke early from a nap, was super grumpy and wouldn't smile. But oh well, real life, right?

Naps: One nap a day, around 1 p.m. for two to three and a half hours.
Feeding: Two percent milk (16-20 oz./day), water all day, table foods three times a day with a snack after nap.
Clothing: 2T
Bedtime: 7:30 - 8 p.m. Sleeps 12-13 hours each night.

Eating: I think he went through a growth spurt this month, because it felt like I could never give this little boy enough food! He's super agreeable to really eat anything now, I feel like we've finally pushed past some of the pickiest eating days. For a long time I wondered if that Baby Led Weaning method worked because he was so finicky with food, but these days, Eli eats everything. Particularly now that we can barter with him, I can tell him he needs to finish his meal and then he can have bread/chips/dessert/etc. It's amazing that it works, and often he forgets that he even wanted the other food! Of course, when he requests food, he still wants grilled cheese, quesadillas, anything with cheese, but overall he happily eats anything I put in front of him. 
Totally back to normal here. I don't think we had a night waking all month! Which was so nice for me! His naps really range from 1.5 hours to four hours, usually around two hours, but they're a little all over the place for duration. For him to wake up happy though, he really needs to get the two full hours, so it always stinks when he wakes early!
This kid is a chatter box - we're now up to five word sentences. His first one was "Momma sit down, righ' here!" (Eli has never been shy about letting me know exactly what he wants.) He's getting better at stringing the words together without the pauses in between so it feels like I'm actually having full conversations with him instead of cave-man talk. 

He continues to love imaginary play and I'm always amazed at the things he comes up with. I'm starting to realize what a sponge he is because often, he'll start saying/doing something that I KNOW I haven't ever done or taught him. Like one day he came home from nursery singing "Ring around the Rosies" - he'd just hum the main tune, then shout, "All fall down!" and collapsed on the floor. I was shocked! 

He's also really into always having a buddy help him do something or play along side him. He lost a bit of his stamina for independent play this month, but I think it's likely because of all the transition we've put him through. He always wants, "Momma's help, Momma play, Momma finger - walk?" I love that he loves to play with me, but it's been a bit hard with how clingy he his. He started to not like it when I'm holding Colette and will shout, "No, no, no, Colette down. Momma play." It breaks my heart that I'm having to teach him to "share" his momma with his sister. 

He's still really into shouting his colors, counting randomly and singing his ABC's. His colors are down pat, but the numbers and letters are sorta a grab bag for what you'll get, which is completely adorable. 

Mommy/Daddy Update:
We're doing really well. I've really begun enjoying Eli's age - he's an absolute riot to be around and I feel like I'm either doubled over with laughter over the funny things Eli says and does all day, or I'm sitting there guessing out loud what he's trying to tell me and we both end up giggling when start to realize it's a lost cause. He's just so adorable when he's trying to say something but can't remember how! While our lives were still in a lot of upheaval this past month, I was so impressed with how well Eli did. He spent nearly a week with each grandparent set as we flew to Chicago with Colette, and while each time we had a couple days of him transitioning back to - well, not getting what he wanted all. the. time. and being told "No." again - overall, he did awesome and Mike and I love seeing him continue to get closer and closer to our extended family. I'm looking forward to this next month with him - while we'll still be in a lot of transition as we FINALLY make the move to temp housing in Chicago - we won't be tossing Eli around so much, so I'm hoping the move goes smoothly for Eli since Mike and I will be around all the time to care for him and give him some much needed consistency and security. 

When Your Heart Breaks For Your Children: Where To Turn When You Can't Protect Them

My children are young, so young that they mostly live in a Pleasantville-like bubble. But over the past year, that bubble has been pushed and poked a few times. There have been a few holes here and there, but I work quickly to patch them. And for the most part, the bubble remains.

But that is not the point of this. The point is just the opposite. The point is that the bubble will inevitably burst, no matter how I try to support it. The point is, I am realizing very quickly that I cannot protect my children from everything.

It's an uneasy feeling knowing you can't solve the problem, fix the issue, deal with the matter. I'm a problem solver by nature; an avid, rabid researcher; a Pull Up Your Bootstraps, Have A Little Gumption And Everything Will Be Alright kinda gal.

But there are some things in life parents just cannot solve.

I remember being little, believing my dad was in fact the one that hung the moon. He was my world, and there was no problem he couldn't solve. And I was right to believe that. That's what daddies should be: everything wonderful and strong and solid and trustworthy that this world is made up of.

But today as a parent myself, I look back over my childhood and realize as much as I know he tried at the time, he couldn't protect me from everything. The day the girls at recess kicked me out of their friend group. The day I was made fun of for being tall and wide. The day my heart was broken and confused by a boy.

He couldn't protect me from those things. They happened. I was crushed.

My son has some vision conditions, and his eyes are not doing well. Appointment after appointment, the news just seems to get worse each time. In person and if you pay attention, there is evidence of his vision loss on the outside beyond just the glasses, and already he has been called names by the older children at the park, or been privy to inconsiderate, piercing statements that should not be said at all.

My heart breaks for my son. Not only because his eyes will probably always serve as a challenge to him - a roadblock I cannot clear, a thorn in his flesh I cannot remove - no matter the interventions we throw at it. It also breaks because people are mean. They are inconsiderate. They do not think.

It has been my first lesson as a mother that my dad knew all along - I cannot protect my children from everything.

They will burn from the sting of a well-placed name or overheard gossip. They will hurt from friend that is no longer a friend. They will ache over a love lost and be scarred by the break of the heart that always comes with.

And as their mother, I will burn, hurt, ache and scar right along with them.

But then, when our tears have been cried and dried, when the anger is spent and the hurt is slowed, and the headache and tension has left our bodies, I will ask them:

"Are you going to believe them? Will you believe what they say?

Or will you believe what I say of you? Or even more important, will you believe what Jesus says of you?

Because you are perfect to me. And you have been made perfect in him. Oh baby, you are at a crossroads and I know you are hurting right now, but you have a choice to make. You can choose to believe them, or you can choose to believe truth.

Because you are more than their empty words. You are more than their rude stares, their snide comments, their brash criticism. They know nothing of who you truly are or who you will become. Don't let this stop you. It is only a crack, and there isn't a crack that The One cannot seam.  Don't let them cut you down at the knees. Stand up strong and tall like I know you are.

You have a choice to make.

Are you going to believe them? Will you believe what they say?

Or will you believe me now? Will you believe the truth of the gospel?"

No. I cannot protect my children from everything. But I can point them to the one who can.

The Rock. The Pillar of Cloud and Fire. The Potter. The Burning Bush. The One On The White Horse.

As I think about it more, I can see why God designed it that way. It is in our weakness that he is strong. It's in our cries for help that he hears and answers. It is in our distress that we are set free. It is in our troubles that he has mercy on us.

And so I think as a parent, I can find peace with not being able to protect my children in everything. While it pains me to know that my children will experience the harsh and sour world more than I'd ever want them to - I know that it is God's way of revealing the incredibly soft and sweet contrast of the gospel.

So I am preparing my heart for the hurt as well. Because when you hurt my babies, you hurt me.

But as our hearts heal together, I will say to them, "You have a choice to make. Will you believe them? Or will you believe me?"

And I will remember in that moment that I cannot protect them from everything.

But I can point them to the one that will.

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Photo courtesy Leah Fontaine. 

Oakland Avenue >> Living and Dining Room Source List

I'm just quickly checking in today with a short flyover of where the furniture and decor in our living and dining room is from. I've had a lot of questions from you all about where certain items came from since the reveal a couple weeks ago - and a handful of requests for a full source list. Well, it's taken a bit, but I'm back today to share the full rundown of where things are from in case you'd like to nab similar items. 

Alright, here we go:

Light Blue/Grey Lamp: Base is from Crate&Barrel (old), landed it at a deep discount because it didn't have a shade. I picked one up from a local lamp store in the Twin Cities.
Mid Century Side Tables: Craigslist
Basket Under Side Table: Home Goods
Couch: HOM Furniture (old)
Pillows: Motif Pillows (custom)
Coffee Table: West Elm
Fern: Bachmans
Marble Pillar Lamp: West Elm
Tochkeys: Old
Gold Tray: Target
Painting: Lindsay Letters
Roman Shades: JCPenny.com

Basket (with blankets): Home Goods
Black and White Blanket: Terrain (old)
Wallpaper: Hygge & West
Blue Velvet Chair: West Elm
Pink Lumbar Pillow: StuckOnHue
Drum Floor Lamp: Target.com (Old)
Rug: Rugs USA

White Chair: West Elm
Blue and White Pillow: Motif Pillows
White Blanket: Crate & Barrel (Old)
Dot Paintings: DIY (Frames from Michaels)
Brass Side Table: West Elm

Card Catalog Credenza: DIY
Concret Planter and Branches: Gift
Tochkeys/Tray: Old (Mostly Target I think)
Coffee Table Books: Amazon.com, Second Hand, etc.
While Lamp: Crate & Barrel (Old)
Basket: Home Goods

Mid Century Pendant: Shades of Light
Table: Schneidermans (Old)
White Chairs: Kmart.com

Blue Ikat Curtains: Fabric from Ballard Designs (I used hem tape to turn them into curtains.)

White Frames: Ikea 
Basket for Toys: Home Goods

And that's it! Please let me know if I've missed anything or you have any other questions about it - I'd love to answer.

Photos courtesy Anne Golliher.

Oh, Momma, You Are Doing A Good Job

I stand in line to use the restroom in the bathroom at the airport. Babygirl in my sling, finally asleep for the first time in five hours. A woman, just a bit older than me asks me, "Are you the one that had the newborn on the plane?" My face flushes, and I look down for a bit. "Yes, I'm so sorry she was so fussy!" I respond. "No! I thought she did awesome! I have two boys, five and seven, I remember how tough flights were for them. It'll get easier," she replies. I tell her thank you, that I sure hope so, and that this is my second baby so I should be better at this airplane thing.

She just looks at me, she sees me, and says, "Oh, momma, you are doing a good job."


I walk out of the bathroom and take a seat near the benches by the baggage pick up. Babygirl has woken and it's time for her go back in the car seat for the ride home so I pull her out of the sling. As her little body uncurls, two elderly women, on my right and my left oh and aw. "Her hair!" "Her eyes!" "How old?" "What's her name?" The compliments and questions come fast and furious and I say thank you and answer the questions as quick as they come. My husband drops the baggage around my feet for safekeeping as it comes off the belt and I begin to open our stroller with one hand as I hold babygirl in the other. "Oh, let me sweetheart!" the woman on my right offers. She is not young, I think I could be her daughter, more likely her granddaughter. I let her know I've got it, I do it all the time with one hand. But she sees me struggling and she pushes me gently out of the way. I verbally walk her through the steps to open it and woman on my left comments on all the "newfangled contraptions young moms have - so complicated!" I smile and sigh a little. 

She looks at me, she sees me, and says, "Oh, sweet momma, you are doing a good job." 


I am walking out of baggage claim when I receive a text from a friend with two littles at home just like mine, asking how the house hunting is going. I tell her we haven't found anything yet. Maybe the next trip. She asks how babygirl is sleeping and I tell her the truth: Not well. But I add that it's likely our fault as she had to share a room with us the entire time in the hotel - hopefully this week will be better. 

She reads between the lines, she sees me and says, "Oh,  don't worry momma, you are doing a good job." 


Three times in under an hour I heard those words. "Oh, momma, you are doing a good job." 

And three times in under an hour I needed them. 

Do you need them today? Because I will say them to you. 

"Oh, momma, you are doing a good job."

There are the rare days where I feel like I've got this mom-thing decently down. And then there are all the other days when it overwhelms and drowns me. And in this particular season, I'm looking for a life raft more often than not. I feel like I'm surviving each day, living hour by hour, no time to think ahead, just dealing with the needs of now. There seems to be no ends to my days, just a continuous cycle of Do The Next Thing. These are the days where it can feel like I'm making no difference, having no impact, where I'm just not doing a very good job. 

But then I hear someone tell me I am. From someone in a stage of life just ahead of me. From someone on the other side. And from someone right here in the trenches with me. Three times I hear it. And three times it takes me to begin to believe it. 

Do you need to hear those words today? Because I will say them to you. 

"Oh, momma, you are doing a good job."

We're in this together, you know. I've never felt more camaraderie, more community in this motherhood gig until it began to drown me. What I'm learning is that the life rafts are all around me, in the form of all the other mothers swimming in this sea. Some are closer to shore than others, but the truth is, no matter where we are in the waters, we all have the ability to save each other from drowning with just a few words. 

Do you need to hear those words today? Because I will say them to you. 

"Oh, momma, you are doing a good job."

And I will say them again, and again, and again. As long as it takes for you to believe it.

"Oh, momma, you are doing a good job."

Like this post? Here are some of the other most popular posts on motherhood. I also share a whole lot more on this motherhood gig over on Facebook (Oakland Avenue) and Instagram (@laurawifler) and I'd love it if you followed along!

The One Thing I Hope My Children Learn From Me

This is what I want to tell you today. This is what I need to tell myself. 

Today my toddler, Eli had the flu. It came fast and strong and unexpected like it always does. He was in my lap when it finally showed itself, ending up all over my jeans, my shirt, my floors, and my hands were not thinking when they reached out to catch the brunt of it as I superman-carried him to the bathroom.

Colette has The Colic, and The Reflux. Which basically means she has The Cry Forever At Night. Or as Eli likes to say, "Colette cry all time!" 

Out of the mouths of babes. 

And she received her two month shots yesterday and seems to have yet to forgive me for it. 

The crocodile tears from the past two days sit in large puddles on my hardwood floors, with no time or energy to mop them up. 

I worry about Eli's temperature. If he's getting enough liquids or too many solids. I worry if Colette's chubby thighs were really chubby enough to protect her at least a little from the painful pricks of shots. I worry if I just gave her Autism, even though when I think long and rationally and remember my careful research in the past, I don't believe the tales, but I just can't shake the thought. 

I think about these past two days and remember that I haven't given Colette enough tummy time. I also wonder if I've stimulated her enough - there is only one toy hanging from her playmat after all - Eli has stolen the rest to "snuggle with." Speaking of being stimulated, I wonder if Eli is getting enough as well. The guilt creeps in a bit about the Daniel Tiger he watched today. But he was sick! That's my excuse today. And at least Daniel teaches good morals and people skills! That's my excuse all the other days. 

The thought of pre-school enters my mind for no other reason than I'm likely crazy to be thinking such thoughts. At first the thought seems amazing - One Less Need To Meet For A Few Hours A Day! - then my heart breaks - with guilt for thinking such thoughts. And probably because I remember a good mother's heart should be sad about her baby going to school. 

But secretly, mine is not. At least not today. 

The thoughts keep rolling through my mind, tripping over one another as I lay another towel down in Eli's crib, show him an old ice cream bucket and fake vomit into it as I try to teach him that's where it goes. Colette's cry plays soundtrack in the background as he giggles and fake gags into the bucket as well. I laugh on the outside but on the inside I know it'll never work. 

We've all heard the term the "trenches." It has likely become a bit cliche, overused in motherhood to where it no longer seems to mean anything to the hearer. And maybe that's for good reason. Maybe that's not. A post for another day perhaps.

But today I want to talk about something else. Today I need to tell you something. Something I need to tell myself. 

The days you wear vomit on your leggings, snot on your sleeve and yogurt in your hair, those are the trenches. And in that moment, the word "trenches" is anything but trite. 

And so here is what we mothers must remember. 

Here is what I need to remember.

If nothing else, I pray my children will see that I love Jesus. 

I worry about the after-affects of vaccinations. I stress over stimulation. I desire a clean and picked up house, a freshly vacuumed floor and to make elephant-shaped pancakes for breakfast. I think about reading aloud enough, giving breast milk long enough, and teaching the difference between sky and periwinkle blue. 

And sometimes, it sure looks a lot like I love those things. Because that is where my time, my thoughts, my efforts and my energy goes. 

But I love Jesus more. 

And I want my babies to know that!

If nothing else - I beg - at least that.

But often, I lose sight of what is important when I'm in the trenches, setting my gaze on singing the alphabet song over and over, planning Pinterest-perfect birthday parties, finding an all-natural cure to diaper rash, and researching the best ways to implement independent playtime. 

Yet even if I don't, the world will be sure to teach my children their ABC's and 123's. It will heal the diaper rash, throw the parties and teach them the independence. 

But the world will not teach them about Jesus. 

Or maybe it will, but it won't be truth. 

That is what the trenches are for - wading through the messy, mundane days and finding the meaningful, the miraculous. It is there, among the dirty laundry, full sinks and the Outrageous Orange and Inch Worm Green crayons. It sits in our homes in the form of tired eyes, hungry tummies, plastic toys and innocent questions, just waiting to be seen, talked about and focused on. 

It is these trenches that reveal God's gift of grace to us the most. It is in the bland everyday that we mothers can find the bright gospel of eternity come to life. It is in the dirty days of now that we live in the hope and promise of the clean and pure days to come.

There is meaning in the mundane. There is truth in the trenches.

It is these trying, wearing days that we reflect the truth of the gospel to our children.

We love them, because He first loved us. 

We will wash their dirty, because we have been made clean.

We will hold them, because we are being upheld.

We will always be there for them, because He is always there for us. 

We will carry them, because he is carrying us.  

It is these trench-filled days that I pray that if my children learn only one thing from me - just one thing - it is that their mother loved Jesus and showed them who he was each and every day of their lives.

Not they would remember me as a great cook, or a fabulous party thrower. Not as a fit mom, or a funny mom, or the mom that was always volunteering at their school, or always knew what to do what to do when they were sick, or never missed a game or a concert. 

Those things would only be a bonus; the icing on the cake of what I hope my children remember from me. What I hope that they would say, is when things got hard, she ran to the cross. When she was in the trenches, she trusted Jesus. That more than anything - more than them, more than daddy, more than anything this world had to offer, she loved Jesus. 

This is what I want to tell you today. This is what I need to tell myself. 

Show your children Jesus in the trenches.

Show them that you love him. 

This is what matters. This is all that matters. 

The world will demand to take care of the rest. But this. This is too precious. Too important to leave to the world to get wrong. 

So today, in these trenches, remember the truth: This is your chance to show them the meaning in the mundane. The miracle in the mess. 

It is your chance to teach them about Jesus. 

Like this post? Here are some of the other most popular posts on motherhood. I also share a whole lot more on this motherhood gig over on Facebook (Oakland Avenue) and Instagram (@laurawifler) and I'd love it if you followed along!

Colette - 2 Month Update

Naps: Four naps a day, about one to one and a half hours after each feeding, about two hours each.
Feeding: Exclusively breastfeeding about every three hours during the day, but also on demand. Typically nurses about eight times in 24 hour period. 
Clothing: Newborn and 3 month pants. All else, 3 month. 
Bedtime: 7 - 10 p.m. (ish)

Eating/Sleeping: (Because of our adventures in colic/reflux, I'm going to combine these two topics this month as they are quite related.) Nursing with Colette continues to go so much better than with Eli - with some exceptions. By five weeks with Eli, I was nearly exclusively pumping because it was so painful, with Colette it's not painful at all and I only pump if she refuses to nurse, or the few times she's had a longer stretch at night and I can't sleep because I'm so full. Overall I try to nurse Colette every three hours during the day, 7 a.m., 11 a.m., 1 p.m., 4 p.m., 7 p.m. and 10 p.m. At least, that's the goal. Basically, because of all the traveling we did during the month, and her colic/reflux, I pretty much nurse on demand, sometimes every two hours, sometimes up to four hours apart during the day. And I definitely don't start at seven every day. If Colette is actually "sleeping in" I usually start her day when Eli wakes, usually around 7:30 or 8 a.m. I'm just too tired to get up any sooner than I have to. 

The day always starts off strong with Colette eating and sleeping well, and me able to keep her on a schedule, usually going every three-ish hours until the 4 p.m. feed. She tends to go on a nursing and sleeping strike anywhere from 4 p.m. to Midnight, and won't take a bottle either. (For the record, we introduced the bottle at five weeks, and she takes it like a champ - at least before 4 p.m.) Sometimes she'll will actually latch and eat a bit, but then pull off and fuss and not try again.

At six weeks, I finally made it into the doctor and they diagnosed her with colic since her "symptoms" only started around 4 p.m., but told me to try reflux medication as a "last ditch effort," and I would know within 7-10 days if it was working. We put her on reflux meds, .9 ml, twice a day. Well, on day nine of the meds, we definitely started noticing a difference. She still went on a nursing strike at the usual times, but this time, she was somewhat able to be consoled with her crying, and she usually would fall asleep around Midnight, instead of her usual 3 or 4 a.m. To us, this was a HUGE win. We could hold her and she would just sorta fuss, instead of just bawling out the loudest cry she had four hours on end. Seriously, I had no idea a baby could cry that loud, that intensely, for that long. Because she fussed so much, we've been co-sleeping with her (Something I really never wanted to do, but you do what you gotta do when you only get two hours of sleep a night.) Often, Mike would go sleep on the basement couches with earplugs in while I took the worst of the shifts, but Mike kept his phone turned up so I could text if/when I needed a trade and he would also be on Eli duty if he happened to wake up.

I took Colette in for her two month check up last week, and while she hadn't lost any weight from her four week weigh-in, she hadn't gained any either - which I had an idea was happening since she's essentially missing one or two feeds a day. The pediatrician upped her reflux medication to 1 ml, three times a day, mentioning that the medication really only covers eight hours at a time, so we were likely missing that evening window for the meds to make her feel better after 4 p.m. She also said Colette likely also still has colic, but hopefully it would clear up by three months. We'll see what happens! 

Also, for the record, we are rarely using Colic Calm, if at all. We use it every once in a while just to help calm her a little in the evenings and I do think it helps a bit, but really I get uncomfortable pumping her full of more stuff in addition to the reflux meds, so we only use it on the worst of the worst nights. I would definitely still recommend it for a baby, I think it works better than any of the gas drops/gripe water I've tried. 

The cooing started this month, and I forgot just how much I love that stage! During the day, Colette really is a super enjoyable baby and she's incredibly smiley and talkative right after nursing. She has the sweetest, softest little voice - such a contrast to the cry she can belt out! She also likes to complain a bit now too - if she's done with tummy time and I come to her just a little too slowly, she lets me know it for a long while, complaining to me for a good 10 minutes about how she didn't like being on her belly that long. She's great at lifting her head but overall during tummy time she tends to just relax with her head on the blanket. When she's on her back, I'll often find her rolled to her side. She's also tracking really well, and loves to be up in her bouncer so she can watch Eli and his antics all day. 
Girlfriend LOVES having her hair washed. While it still doesn't calm her down in the evenings, she loves it any other time of day. I wash her hair about every three days because of the grease it shows, but she only gets a full-on bath a few times a month. She also really likes the sling, and in the evenings that is one of the things I can put her in and we have a 50/50 chance for her to lay quietly (since she's been on meds), or even sometimes fall asleep for 15 minutes or so. The sling has also been a life-saver for all the plane rides she's been on. She's been such a trooper while traveling, and I know the sling has been a big part of helping her to travel well. She's also been liking the swing lately, although I swear Eli gets more use out of it than she does. "Eli's chair. Eli too big for chair! Eli like!" is what he tells me. As far as dislikes, she really used to hate the carseat - she never slept in it, but after our Chicago house hunting trips, she grew to really like it since she was pretty much spending all day in it. (I felt so bad for her!) Now she sleeps like a champ in there which is actually really nice so I can pretty much have her nap anywhere we are.  We call her our "princess" or the "queen of comfort" as she really likes everything to be juuuuuuust right. She'll fuss if she has a poopy or an extra wet diaper, and gives the biggest smiles when we change it. She's also pretty picky about temperature, not liking to be too cold or too hot. It's so different from Eli who would likely sit in a dirty diaper all week and couldn't care less about temp!

Momma/Daddy Update:
Well, I think this post pretty much sums up where I'm at. I feel pretty weak and inadequate right now trying to juggle everything, but I still wouldn't trade anything for how wonderful this little girl is - and I really mean that, I'm not just saying it 'cause I'm her mom! During the day, Mike and I are just amazed with how wonderful and agreeable Colette is and I think it was so good that Mike got to spend a week or two with Colette while we were in Chicago house hunting. I think for a bit there all he ever saw was Colette crying, so that allowed him to see Colette during her good times. We joke that it's a good thing she's cute since she cries so much! But really, the nights are long, but already I can feel time slipping by as fast as they say. I can't believe it's been two months already!