I really should be showering right now. But instead, I thought I'd clear away the cobwebs and blow away the dust that has totally settled over this blog during the past two months. Please say you've granted me a get outta jail free card because adding a 4th child to my crew has rendered me a little batty, which I hope is normal. But enough of the complainin'--it's summer ya'll, and summer just wouldn't be summer without some lemonade, right?
Last week, we held our 2nd annual community lemonade stand.
All photos courtesy of my friend Erin Collins. Thank you!
It was the hottest day of the summer and I almost melted the moment I stepped outside. But we Narcisos aren't quitters, well at least not after we broadcasted it on Facebook, doh!
It was over 90 degrees at 9AM so the kids made a beeline straight for the park district sprinkler to cool off. Seriously, old fashioned sprinklers are the best! In between hair dips and run throughs the kids passed out lemonade and cookies (baked by Erin) to all the friends that showed up.
And as hot as it was, our two hour event turned out to be perfect!
Thanks to all the families who sweated along with us! Until next year...
At the ripe old age of 2, Bella was introduced to the movie Annie. It was the second musical I showed her, right behind Mary Poppins of course. You see, I love me some Annie ya'll. When I was little, I'd rewind our VCR over and over again until I knew every word of every song. Just imagine how long that took--it was a VCR! I noticed every spin, every tumble and every detail of the movie's big song Hard Knock Life. The way the girls twirled from the rafters and the way the bucket spilled perfectly down the stairs spreading the soapy suds just right. I noticed EVERYTHING. Which is why it came as no surprise to see Bella love it the way I loved it. I remember my days in California when it was just Bella and I driving around and she'd be screaming the song Tomorrow from the back seat of our sedan, making me so happy. Hold up. OMG. There was a time when I drove a sedan! With only 1 carseat! Can you believe it?
Back then Mary Poppins and Annie was the soundtrack to our lives. The love affair even traveled across country because when we moved to Chicago it made our Halloween hit list for two years in a row.
I mean really, isn't this adorable!!!
Of course she dressed up for the show. And in return the VP of Disney Theatre rewarded Bella with a Mary Poppins umbrella when he spotted her in the lobby. Talk about awesome!
Why yes, that's a locket. For real, I don't mess around on Halloween :)
Good ol' Sandy
I even dusted off the ol' flip digital camera to share this video from the archives...
But as the years went on our love affair with Annie was put on the back burner behind Wicked's Defying Gravity YouTube clips (which they're going to see live in October--can't wait!), Disney's Tangled and The Fresh Beat Band.
Until last week, that is. A college friend of mine Leena who blogs at Leena Eats, recommended that we watch the PBS documentary, "It's The Hard Knock Life, From Script to Stage" which chronicles the journey from auditions to opening night of Broadway's revival, Annie. We set our DVR and sure enough, loved every minute of it. If you're interested in watching it, just go here.
We all snuggled around the couch and watched as the documentary, much like the musical, captured our hearts and imagination once again. The kids were totally engrossed-- just like I was 30 years ago. And when the girls asked to watch it a second time, I knew my DNA was in there somewhere. See people, I'M NOT THE NANNY!
But I digress.
Earlier this afternoon, as I was nursing Indy, I heard some startling sounds from the monitor. At first, I thought all hell was breaking loose in their room. But the more I listened, the more I realized they were actually acting like they were upset, angry little orphans. So I hoisted Indy into the bjorn and grabbed my phone. Here ya go...
Funny, huh? The second clip which I'll spare you from, was even more intense since they discovered that the only way to really portray bitter little orphans was to bang on every pot in their play kitchen while they screeched out the song, making the video clip (and my ears) totally distorted.
Method actors, humpf.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got way too much to drink and way too many kids that I need to boss around. I mean, how else is this place gonna shine like the top of the Chrysler building?!
I've spent the last 41 days kissing, cradling, nursing, snuggling, tickling, swaying, burping, changing, bathing and unconditionally loving my beautiful new son, Indy.
Born on May 20, 2013 weighing 7 lbs 1 oz, Indy Post Narciso was welcomed into our family and our lives were forever changed.
The name Indy has very special meaning to us. The most obvious being short for independence--which is always a good thing in our books. In most entertainment circles the name "indie" is synonomous with uniqueness and creativity--a genre which honors non-conforming art forms that are independent of mainstream labels. What an important lesson to teach a child, be who you are, not what others want you to be. But there's also an even greater meaning in the name. You see, Indy will spend his life being told by others that he's the baby of the family--a truth he has no control over. Birth order can do funny things to a person and as our last child, we hope that just because he's the "baby" he doesn't always have to feel like one.
Friends, meet Indy.
Playful. Patient. Totally aware.
Cuddly. Hairy. Smells devine.
Kissable. Hungry. Rockstar sleeper.
The truth is, this birth has really rocked me, in many ways actually. For one, it's my last, so I cherished and celebrated every single ounce of it. I smile when I think back to how we announced it on Christmas Eve, remember?
And I'll never forget how thrilled our whole family was to learn he was a boy.
The excitement our family shared was obvious, right up until the last minute when we kissed the kids goodnight on the evening of May 19th. This picture says it all.
And when I woke up on May 20th, I couldn't believe the day was actually here! With only a couple hours of sleep, I opened my eyes with a sense of adrenaline that I'm not normally used to. While everyone else slept soundly, Eugene and I snuck out of the house at 5AM and hand in hand we drove the whopping three minutes to the hospital---it was a very peaceful, very happy and very exciting 3 minutes.
When we arrived on the maternity floor I was pleasantly surprised to see so many nurses that I remembered from Chance's birth. And while I couldn't place their name, I recognized their faces immediately and it made me feel that much safer. We checked into room 210 and Eugene, like always, began setting up--arranging the magazines, organizing the photography stuff and making it feel like home. He actually set up a candy and snack buffet out of a writing desk---always catering that guy.
I layed in bed with such mixed emotions: giddy with excitement yet weighted with heartache knowing this was it--the last time I'll feel the uncomfortable kicks of a child inside, the last time I'll hear the pounding heartbeat over the loudspeaker, the last time I'll subconsciously rub my stretched out balloon belly in a nonverbal act of protecting and nurturing a child I can't see.
Man, I'll miss that.
The last time I'll go through surgery for the sake of a baby. The last time I'll feel the sting of a spinal.
The last time I'll listen to the mundane conversations of the surgical staff as they talk about their weekend as I lay there knowing that one of my greatest life's accomplishments is about to unfold.
And the hardest to swallow--the last time I'll look up at Eugene and see his piercing brown eyes staring at me over his surgical mask, which is a sight that brings me to tears every time. We locked eyes in that surgical room and without hesitation my memories brought me back to a time, 16 years past, when he and I sat in the front seat of his Honda Civic staring out at the city lights of Peoria promising eachother we'd have it all and really, really meaning it. My, how far we've come. Feeling much older than my memory, I layed there on the operating table nervously awaiting the next steps. And with only my shoulders to caress and my forehead to kiss, Eugene showed me how much our love and our life meant to him.
Then folks, at 8:12AM it happened-- final love at first sight, a term my dear friend Zoe warned me about. I heard his sweet cry first and when my doctor, in his best Lion King moment, brought him around the curtain and showed us our beautiful boy my heart truly skipped a beat.
Our son.
Dark hair and dark skin, he's exactly what I had pictured (and hoped for). I love that Indy and Chance will be so different from one another. Fortunately, we had our neonatalogist friend Mario by our side in case Indy needed a set of trustworthy hands. Mario checked him out (shown below) gave Eugene the thumbs up, handed him the scissors and in his own nastalgic farewell, Eugene cut the cord a final time.
The doctors then brought Indy to me and for the first time ever I felt the initial skin-to-skin contact that most vaginal birthed babies and mothers get to experience. Sadly, I never had the opportunity with my other children. See, it's not normal practice for c-sections (which, wth? it totally should be!) but with a simple request and a faithful doctor I had that precious time with my baby while they continued with the procedure.
He stopped crying the moment his skin touched mine and I have to say it was the single, most beautiful moment in all of my births and one that I'll carry in my heart forever. He held on so tight to me, see? For real you guys, this is what true happiness feels like.
While I was whisked back to my room for recovery, Eugene brought Indy to the nursery to show our kids their new soulmate.
The gang was complete.
Perhaps one of my favorites
And then suddenly we were a family of six. And what was our norm the day before was now something completely different--a totally different feeling altogether. No matter how I try to describe it, it just felt right.
Our new norm.
Our first half dozen family picture. Hot damn there's a lot of us.
The following three days was spent laughing with family,
and enjoying the thrill that only the arrival of a new baby can bring.
A hospital room? WAY better than a hotel room!
It was right around minute 40 of every daily visit where the kids lost their ever lovin' minds. And don't get me started about Chance's emergency room visit that first day when his foot apparently got caught in the automatic revolving door of the hospital lobby.
Yes, that happened.
We were so punch drunk happy over our new baby--a true celebration through and through. In fact, as our announcement we passed out about 100 of the most DELICIOUS cake pops imaginable, thanks to our friend Erin who has some crazy good baking skills. Thank you Erin, you are a rockstar in the bakery dept. and EVERYONE loved them! Every nurse, every doctor, every neighbor and every friend shared in the sweetness of Indy.
And once visiting hours were over, we'd set up shop. Well Eugene would, all I would do is bark demands from the hospital bed, until of course, I got booted out in favor of the baby. You should have seen the nurses reaction when they walked in. I swear to you, I have NO idea how Anne Geddes does it. Indy cried the entire time and when he wasn't crying he was pissing all over our props.
Clearly, it was time for us to leave.
And after 3 and a half days, we did just that. Bidding farewell to the room we called home, hugging the nurses that took the time to really know us, and preparing Indy for his first homecoming was bittersweet. My hospital memories of our babies births are so vivid and so precious to me. As excited as I was to get home and get a move on life again, time stood still in these four walls. And Eugene, bless his heart, was by my side the entire time sleeping in the fetal position on a reclining vinyl chair that kept folding up on him the moment he'd close his eyes, drift off and fall asleep. At least I had a bed and pain meds. Thank you babe, I love you so!
This was Indy's coming home outfit which I simply adore even though the wingspan of the bowtie is bigger than his face.
But Dapper Dan didn't get to wear it since it was uncharacteristicly cold that day---in the upper 50's!! So I bundled him up in the back-up outifit and off we were, home sweet home.
Indy, my precious boy...it is with a heavy heart that I finally close the maternity chapter of my life's book, but please don't be sad for me.
It's with that same breath that I discover uplifting joy knowing that your stories are just unfolding.
So, it's been a week since my little baby was born and what a week it's been.
I can't wait to write about his birth story and just as soon as I can find the time to write it, I will. My life consists of three hour increments---attempting to be a decent mother to my three other kids, execute a load of laundry and put away toys before I need to nurse again is proving to be extremely challenging. But day by day I get a little more accustomed to the schedule. Today, for instance, the kids were back to school and our morning routine went rather smoothly, yay!
But the truth is, I've got a squishy, soft, warm little peanut to cuddle with all day long, and that more than makes up for it.
Tomorrow morning I will meet you face-to-face and I'm so thrilled I could just scream. Which would be a bad idea since I don't want to wake up the rest of your sleeping family. You're daddy is laying right next to me, snoring of course. Your awesome sisters who normally can't stop talking are silently sleeping and dreaming about their newest teammate. Your big brother is sound asleep in his crib clutching two plastic horses and a Thomas blanket. And as of this moment, Chance is still my baby, but 7 hours from now you'll take over that role thrusting Chance into a Kuya status, which is "big brother" in Tagalog--a role I know he'll be awesome at. Your dog, Rizzo whom you've heard bark every single day is sleeping on an over sized Pillow Pet of another dog, which is hilarious, actually. Your Lolo and Lola, who flew all the way from California to meet you, are right across the hall, nestled all snug in their bed.
Visions of you are dancing in our heads.
I can feel you move around, though I sense its pretty tight in there.Wait till you see what this world has in store for you--it's so much better out here than where you're at right now, trust me. But with every move you make, all I can do is smile. You're inside me!!! And have been for a long time. The whole process is just so beautiful that it never gets old. Okay, sometimes it does. But not right now. Right now, I want to feel every move and every kick because I know its the last time my body will embrace this amazing journey.
The smell of lilacs just came drifting past me, which I know will always make me think of you and the moments leading up to your birthday. You see, growing up we had a huge lilac tree in our yard and every spring I'd spend hours hanging from the branches to get a better whiff of their exuberant scent. In fact, my mom would leave all the windows open in the house so that the smell of the lilac bushes would suddenly fill our house with the promise of summer. Lilacs were the undeniable symbol that a new adventure lay ahead.
Kind of like you.
This week, like my mother, I have showered our house with fresh lilacs from our yard.
They're in every room.
You see, I always want to associate this time and this smell with you.
I even hit up my local Yankee Candle Co. store so that I can have a lilac candle
waiting for us when we arrive home together later this week.
Until we meet tomorrow morning, good night sweet baby of mine.
EPILOGUE
As I was leaving the store I noticed a whole new line of candles that are marketed to men. Like an idiot, I smelled the bacon candle. DO NOT AND I REPEAT DO NOT SMELL THIS CANDLE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE PREGNANT, YOU JUST MIGHT START DRY HEAVING RIGHT THERE IN THE STORE.
"Saying there are too many children is like saying there are too many flowers" --Michelle Duggar
Pardon me, while I call BULLSHIT you crazy ass mother of NINETEEN HUMANS!!!! Flowers have like a one month time span, tops. Crap, even my flowers can't seem to make it past a week. But children? They will suck you dry FOREVER. How dare you compare children with flowers. You see, this is my fourth and definitely my last and no one is happier about this decision than my flimsy-mesh-like uterus.
In fact, my uterus is pretty pissed right now. It's temperamental, it's painful and it's out to get me. It all began when I reached my third trimester and my doctor very non-chalantly mentions that he's diagnosing me with AMA. And I shit you not, for a nano second I thought rock-on, I've got an awesome taste in music and I'm sure the American Music Association would love to know that I....
Wait a second.
"What exactly is AMA?" I asked.
And his horrific response was "Advanced Maternal Age."
And I nearly body tackled him to the ground. I mean it's one thing that I already feel like Jabba the Hut but to basically call me a geriatric Jabba the Hut was just WRONG. He even prescribed me with a twice weekly non stress test because of it. And every time I went, a nurse would always ask me why I was there and I'd have to mutter under my breath, A-M-A, all defeated and shit. That's of course, after I told the nurse I didn't hear her question because my hearing aid isn't working so well. Uugggh! Don't these doctors know that 38 is like the new 24????
But back to my uterus.
85% of the time, I'm a pregnant rockstar. Constantly in motion, keeping up at a pace that I'm proud of, minimizing couch time as much as I can and getting things done! And then there's the extra 15% of the time where I would rather slowly fork my eyes out then take another godforsaken step. Which is exactly what happened when celebrating the other night. My awesome sister and dear friend Tiffany schlepped me out for a girls night in hopes to recreate the awesomeness of our last 2010 pre-baby outing, Girls Gone Wild.
Our dinner was lovely. Lovely in the sense that we each consumed about 1700 calories in under 40 minutes. Our fancy dinner reservation was at 5:30 and we had barely finished licking the appetizer plate (literally. we lose all manners when we're childless and hungry) before our main courses arrived. And none of us even had a chance to politely burp under our breath before the check was handed to us.
It was 6:15. We all kind of stared at each other with the what the hell do we do now look?
Thankfully, we were at Oakbrook Shopping Center and not some awful Home Depot strip mall. A night of shopping and browsing and laughing and talking and ENJOYING EACH OTHER'S COMPANY sounded like a dream date.
We hit up Anthropologie first and my sister and Tiffany were off galavanting while I hid in the jewelry department, sadly the only section that would fit. I mean come on, hobbling around stores when you're 39 weeks pregnant is just downright embarrassing.
And that's when my uterus struck.
First, it was a mild cramping while I was walking. No biggie, I can handle this I thought. Then I noticed my sister and Tiffany laugh under their breaths when they turned around to see a traffic jam of people stuck behind us. And by us, I mean ME, the girl who is walking at a SNAILS PACE. With every step I took, I'd get a sharp pain. Almost as if my uterus was saying
"You feel that Gina? That's what you get for putting me through this a 4th time"
OUCH, ANOTHER ONE.
"And that's for the up-all-night, loud and unruly tenant that's been living here for 9 months"
CRAP. ONE MORE STEP. OUCH!
"And it smells like shit in here."
ONE STEP MORE. AHH, AHH, ACHOO!
"Oh, will you look at that, did I just make you tinkle?"
I mean I could barely walk. I don't know if it was the food or if it was complete retaliation but it hurt like hell. I kept making sideline pit stops to pretend to "enjoy the beautiful view" but shit-damn, the entire mall was under construction making me look like an even bigger idiot.
It was one of those nights that will forever remind me of this pregnancy. Thank you Gabrielle and Tiffany for putting up with me and allowing me to sit every 5 minutes.
Now to bring this story completely full circle, (OMG) HAVE YOU SEEN THIS COMMERCIAL?????
Let me preface it by admitting that I watch very specific shows on television and hardly ever watch TV when it's live--so if I've seen this commercial then you know you're in trouble Shannon. Come to think of it, I don't know what's worse, Shannon Doherty accepting this gig or envisioning a board room of executives wracking their brains until someone finally pounds their fists to the table and proclaims, "I've got it!!! Shannon Doherty!"
