Freddy Hill Farms: Take 3

We made our third visit to Freddy Hill Farms today. It's crazy to think that we've been in Philadelphia long enough to participate in a seasonal activity 3 times, and it's even more crazy to think that we'll only have one more shot at it.

We had a rocky start to the day. Abby decided to wake up at 3:30 a.m. and never went back to sleep. She wasn't fussy or crying. She just wanted to play. She didn't even wake up like that as a newborn. It was INSANE. Sam hadn't even gone to bed yet because he was up late studying. I felt so bad for him.

We got all ready to go in the morning. I really didn't want to reward Abby's unusual behavior with a fun day but I had been looking forward to it as much as she had so I wasn't willing to back out.

On the drive to the farm, Abby told me her tummy was hurting. I thought she was just hungry because she hadn't had much for breakfast so I gave her something to munch on. She kept saying her tummy hurt and then she puked. A lot. It was super sad and stinky. This stomach ailment may have contributed to her mid-night antics.

She seemed to feel much better after she got the puke out and I knew she would be devastated if we didn't go. Plus, I was riding with the girl who organized the whole activity. So, we decided to go for it.

When we got out of the car it was cold and windy. Abby had pretty well demolished her sweatshirt so I improvised and just wrapped her in a blanket. She smelled a little bit like puke all day but it didn't seem to bother her.

We loaded up our wagon for a fun hayride to the pumpkin patch. It was fun to snuggle two sweethearts this time.

It was muddy and a lot of the pumpkins were soggy because of the insane amount of rain we have had this year but we managed to find some good ones.

Luckily, the sun came out and the wind died down soon after we arrived at the pumpkin patch.

After choosing our pumpkins, we went through the corn maze--with no wrong turns I might add. Our ride down the slide was more brisk this year. I must have been wearing better sliding pants.

We finished off the morning with some delicious homemade ice cream. Abby slipped in a few orange slices between licks to help me feel better about feeding her ice cream before lunch. (Who am I kidding? I didn't feel the least bit bad.)

Then and Now

And by now, I mean a month-and-a-half ago, but ya know, close enough.

Me and Clara. Megan and Josie. Tiffany and Abby. Sarah and Claire. Kimberly and James.

Just Playing

It's strange to me to realize that I spend the majority of every day playing. Most grown ups aren't so lucky, so I should count myself blessed!

Abby has had fun revisiting her infancy and playing with the baby toys.

We gave Clara a piece of graham cracker to nibble on. You can't really tell in this picture, but it was all over her shirt.

Oh heavens, she is a cutie. But, that's just my totally unbiased opinion.

How big does Abby look!?! I can't believe she will be 3 in 2.5 weeks.

Clara's favorite thing to do lately is unload all of the toys from her box into her lap. When the box is empty she grumps until we put all of the toys back in.

I love this picture because it shows off her constant moving, stretching feet. I think they stay so tiny because she is constantly working them out.

My girls enjoying their after-nap milk. Why do they always have cute moments when Abby is covered in sweat?

It truly is a blessing to play with these girls all day, even though I'm occasionally convinced I will drop dead if I have to play Play-Do or watch another segment of Elmo's World. (Does anyone else find Mr. Noodle totally disturbing?) My girls are so much fun and I dread the day when they won't want to play with me anymore.

Sitting Pretty

Clara started seeing an occupational therapist once a week to help catch up with the development of her gross motor skills--the big stuff like rolling, sitting and crawling. She has low muscle tone in her core which makes doing those things more challenging. She is improving quickly and is getting really good at sitting up by herself.

She tends to sit by locking her legs rather than using her tummy muscles so we are working with her to have better posture.

I am still pumping as often as I can and topping her bottles off with formula. We call it the Clara Cocktail. My milk supply hasn't really increased at all but she keeps growing so we are grateful.

The girls have more fun playing together these days. They love to make each other laugh. We will hear them both giggling in their bedroom when they wake up in the morning.

Only What You Can Handle

A few weeks ago, a couple of my friends were over for a play date. As the kiddos were running wild, we got to talking about our children and their varying personalities. One of my friends was feeling particularly exasperated with her toddler--a feeling I'm sure every parent experiences many, many times during the course of their child's life, even when they are should be "all grown up." As I comiserated with her, I found myself reciting the (probably overused) adage "Heavenly Father only gives us the children or the trials (which are oftentimes synonymous) we can handle." To be honest with you, I used to hate this phrase. I feel like people always tell you that like it's supposed to make the trials easier, like you should be dealing with the problem with a cheery disposition because you must be so strong to have to be dealing with it. My friend responded, "But I can't handle it!" And then, like a ton of bricks, it hit me. Nobody says, "Heavenly Father only gives us the trials we can handle easily." No! Because if they were easy they wouldn't be trials. This realization has helped me to find comfort in adversity. Does this mean I face my problems with a cheery dispostition? Not usually. But even when I'm crying or gritting my teeth or pulling my hair out and even when I think I'm at the end of my rope, I realize that I'm not. Because even if it's only in a very small way, I'm handling it. And before I know it, the trial has passed and the truthfulness of that phrase rings clear. I made it, I handled it and I'm better because of it.

So, to my dear friend, and to anyone reading this, I remind you--Heavenly Father only gives you the trials you can handle. You may have to lock your toddler (or yourself) in a room. You will probably feel like you are at the end of your rope but you're not. Things will get better, they always do.

Picky Play

Abby has a basket of play food that she plays with often, usually several times a day. Sometimes she goes and grabs an apple or some broccoli for her baby to enjoy while the rest of us are eating a meal. Sometimes she stands at her kitchen brewing up culinary delights. Most often, she takes the whole basket with her into her room for a party or a picnic. Well, not the whole basket. Before she takes it into her room, she always removes the husk from the corn and leaves the lemon and the onion on the floor because she doesn't like those things. It cracks me up every time I go behind the couch and see the poor, neglected lemon and onion lying on the floor. Oh how I love the fun quirks of a toddler.

Emotional

I don't know what has been going on with me today but I have felt particularly emotional all day.

It might just be because I'm tired. The last week of staying up late with Philip and Merrick has started to take it's toll. I feel like I've been functioning at about 10 percent most of the day. Plus, I was feeling lonely all day without house guests.

Maybe it's because Sundays are always so busy so I didn't really get the chance, until this morning, to reflect on the horrific events that took place in our nation ten years ago. Several blog posts and facebook statuses (stati?) elicited tears this morning. After ten years, the pain, confusion and anger are still so raw.

Perhaps it is because my birthday is tomorrow. Turning a quarter of a century can sure make a girl feel old. Spare me any--well, wait until your 30--comments. I know I'm still quite young. But it's (almost) my party and I can cry if I want to. Birthdays are so strange once you're an adult. I love to celebrate, especially with my sweet family but I still can't help but miss how awesome birthdays are when you're a kid.

It's likely a combination of all of these things in addition to a temperamental toddler, a not-increasing milk supply, never leaving the house today and a natural tendency to be overly emotional anyway.

Maybe a small  medium bowl of ice cream will help me feel better. Hey, it is my birthday (tomorrow) after all.