Snapshots of Sydney Pippa

When I looked at my phone for pictures of Sydney Pippa (which, I've surely been snapping daily, right?) I was shocked to find they are a little, uhm, spare. So as I did with Brigitta, I'm going to post monthly snapshots of Sydney. It keeps me motivated to catch little moments here and there as she rapidly grows. This is all I have for November and December, but I'm going to do better in 2014!

With Aunt Whitney

I love these sweet turtle pjs (handed down by Reagan) and was so sad when Sydney grew out of them. 

Brent spends as much time as he can with Sydney when he's around. 

With Mom

Again with Dad

I don't want to say Sydney is a "good" baby because that automatically implies there are "bad" babies. I guess I can say Sydney is an extremely "easy" baby in that she doesn't require any extra attention for digestive issues or colic or just needing to be held. It's almost as if she was read the riot act in the pre-existence and told if she was going to come as an early surprise, she'd better not throw a fit when she got here. Sydney Pippa is a champion sleeper and she dozes for 4-6 hours at a stretch. During the night, she doesn't cry but I'll wake up to hear her rooting instead. After she's nursed, she goes right back to sleep. As a side note, Brigitta is now sleeping through the night so I'm getting loads more rest than I did when I was pregnant! Sydney has mastered the "social smile" that melts my heart. Her tiny body shudders as if the joy inside her just spills out onto her face. Initially Brigitta went through an adjustment period with the change in family dynamics. She'd randomly scream at things: doors, clothes, ice cream, etc. like she didn't know quite how to cope. After a couple of weeks, Brigitta relaxed and now "Puppaaah" as she calls her, doesn't seem to phase her in the slightest. Brigitta will run into the room with her bottle if she hears Sydney crying and on the flip side, she's right there to polish off a half-drunk bottle left behind. Brent's particularly happy about that because we aren't wasting even a drop of expensive formula. Sydney's still so small she just curls up on my shoulder and cuddles. I have to admit it's hard to put her down to make dinner or change a diaper because I know this won't last forever.

Oh Santa, We Know How You Feel

Here's the thing- we started out friends. It was cool but it was all pretend:

 You had your chance, you blew it. Out of sight, out of mind:

 Shut your mouth I just can't take it. Again and again and again and AGAIN!!!

Since you been gone I can breathe for the first time. I'm so moving on: 

 Thanks to you, now I get what I want:

Crushed it.

Chopped

First I discovered the chunks of blonde locks on the floor of Liesel's room. A quick forensic analysis told me this was Liesel's hair and not Ireland's. Then I took a closer look at my eldest daughter, who up till now I had passed in the hallway, bleary-eyed from a not-so-sound night of sleep. My suspicions were confirmed. Liesel had gotten out of bed early, gone into the kitchen, climbed onto the counter so she could reach the kitchen shears (magnetically attached to the side of the fridge), snuck them back to her room, and boldly charged down the road to becoming the next Vidal Sassoon. Because Liesel's hair is so much thinner than Ireland's, it was beyond repair. There was no way to just taper this in. Her flowing golden hair would need to be completely cut off.

I couldn't find a filter to make this look any better. 

I called my Aveda salon and left a message explaining what Liesel had done and asking to be squeezed in right away. Then I called Liesel's school to let them know that until she was presentable again, she wouldn't be coming to class. The salon called back and an all too amused woman booked us for the earliest appointment available. When I thanked her she chirped, "It happens!"

Liesel's stylist spotted her right away and said, "So you decided to have some fun this morning, eh?" At some point in my grown up life I told myself I would never cry over a haircut unless it was necessitated by chemotherapy. Hair grows back and there are bigger travesties in life to spend tears on. However, as I saw Liesel's lovely hair fall to the floor I hate to admit I choked back emotion. All in all it was 10 inches. I have to hand it to them, everyone at the salon was extremely calm and kind about the whole thing. In the end, they made it such a positive experience I'm honestly a little concerned Liesel will try it again just to go back.

This is just the first pass to get the main part. Much, much more was cut off.

Even though I was still fuming over the whole debacle, Liesel immediately embraced her new haircut. She likes how it "swings" and how she can jump around and let it fly, only to have it fall right back where it was when she's still. She excitedly tucks it behind her ears and tells me she's okay if people call her "cute" instead of "beautiful". The kitchen shears are now on top of the china cabinet and Ireland has been told to scream bloody murder if Liesel tries to cut her hair.

The new bob.

 I know Liesel is not the first, nor will she be the last, little girl to cut her hair. Nonetheless, it's still a bit hard for me to look at her and think of all the adorable hairstyles I used to do and how that era is over. Oh Liesel, what are we gonna do with you?

Liesel Epistles

The outside of my birthday card.

The inside of my birthday card. For the record, I did have a great time eating my breakfast in bed. While I did get an ice cream cake from Coldstone's, it wasn't nearly that big.

Liesel vacillates between calling us by our formal names and calling us Mom and Dad

I haven't seen this particular manicure inspiration on Pinterest but I think it should be!

 For reasons unknown to us, Liesel prefers to confront her dad through written, rather than spoken, word:

If you don't have real cookies handy, doesn't a drawing of cookies cheer you up just as much?

I love how Liesel drew pictures of her usual happy self, and a frowny face crying due to her father's harsh words... just in case the note itself wasn't clear enough.

Memo to Me, Memo to Me...

Do NOT leave my camera where Reagan can get a hold of it!

Especially since she appears to be recruiting:

Bringing Baby Home

 Pictures courtesy of Reagan:

Baby in a basket! Fresh from the stork :)

I'm particularly grateful Reagan got this shot. You can see the sweet swirl right on top of Sydney's head!

Sydney is a champion sleeper (out for 4-6 hours at a time) and I can't get enough of this serene little face.

Sydney Pippa's Hospital Photos

Many thanks to my generous mother-in-law for these! I'm grateful to have a record of this little girl in her first few days of life. Just a few of my favorites:

I really love this last one because you get a sense of how tiny she is with Brent's hand for reference. 

A Sweet Recovery

I once thought when a woman has a baby she spends the rest of her time in the hospital sleeping and getting pampered by nurses while she looks adoringly at her newborn. Now I know better. There are the vitals checks, billing department verification, hearing test, flabotomist, pediatric visit, newborn photos, and it's a never ending parade of doctors, nurses, residents and other hospital staff. Quite the opposite of restful. However, a little r&r comes a lot easier when you have a room like this:

I've never seen such a big hospital bed! It still felt like a hospital bed but it was nice to have extra room.

And a bathroom like this:

I loooooved the tub! Complete with jets and massage cycles. Lovely. 

Well if you insist...

 All in all not a bad place to recuperate, eh?

Introducing the Sixth Wuehler

Sydney Philippa Wuehler was born at 4:22 pm weighing 8 lbs 11.7 oz and 21.25 inches long. Let me tell you about her journey to this world! Apparently by the fourth child my womb has been primed to be a most comfortable, happy place because Sydney Pippa was in no way interested in leaving. Many a well-meaning person would chirp at me, "Almost there!" leaving me infuriated with this doo-wah who did not have a creature kicking at their ribs from the inside and running after 3 tinies on only 2 hours of sleep while everyone eyed their physique and felt they had a free pass to make comments on it (ie "You look like you're ready to POP!"). My merciful OB not only scheduled an induction, he moved it up a couple of days when there was an opening. And openings were scarce since all the Valentine's Day love children are due... about now.

I checked in with a bag of hot bagels for the staff and began the long day. By far the worst part for me was having the IV placed. I had an experienced nurse and a student. The student quickly volunteered to do the dirty deed and something inside me said I should politely request the nurse. I should have followed my instincts because she didn't know what she was doing so finally the nurse took over. Man alive, I HATE needles!!! From there it was increasing doses of pitocin and penicillin until the contractions were really grabbing a hold. They went from my lower back and moved into my pelvic floor which was new for me. I asked to be checked because I figured if I was close I'd just skip the epidural, put on my proverbial big-girl pants and breathe my way to the end of it. Hell, if Kate Middleton can do it, I can do it, right? I was dilated to a 5. Screw the natural birth movement, call the anesthesiologist. NOW!!!

For the first time, I was in labor in a hospital that allowed Brent to be in the room for the epidural. I was excited about that from the moment I found out months ago. Turns out, when I'm in excruciating pain and someone is sticking a needle in my back (I HATE needles!) he morphs into the most annoying person in the world. Let me be clear, my sweet husband was really trying to help. He had my phone and kept checking it to see if I'd received any new text messages. I snapped at him to put the stupid phone down and focus on ME for a minute. Then he grabbed the remote to the tv and started flipping through channels as I was desperately breathing through a really bad contraction. I snapped at him again and he explained he thought the distraction would be helpful. Just a couple of minutes after the epidural was placed, Brent morphed back into my wonderfully supportive husband. I was relieved that it was the fastest, most pain-free epidural I've ever had.

This was also the first time I was in a hospital that allowed me to eat! As we entered the afternoon, I chowed on a juicy, thick cheeseburger and fries. The amount of energy that cheeseburger gave me cannot be underestimated. I entered a period of happy peace where I was conscious of the contractions but not in pain and energized. Then it began to snow. With my sweet husband by my side, I relished the beauty and quiet of it all.

Something told me I was close and I was getting the urge to push. The resident checked me and said I was fully dilated but still had a bit of cervix that needed to clear before I should push. To our surprise, she said she would check again in an hour. A team of residents as well as my OB came back in 15 minutes and suggested one more check. Since I was good to go, I did a practice push and well, they didn't even have time to break the bed. After the excruciatingly long wait, Sydney quickly greeted the world. Another thing I loved about this experience is I didn't do coached pushing; I pushed when I felt like it which worked so much better with my body's instincts.

Sydney had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (very common) but she was in no way choking or suffocating on it. She made it clear she didn't appreciate being evicted from the womb. They handed her to me and immediately covered us in warm blankets and here's another thing I loved- they let me hold her for a really long time. With every other birth I've been given a special moment or two before they whisk the baby away to be measured, poked and prodded. Not this time. The moment I saw her face I knew she was our Sydney Pippa. She's at once similar to her sisters as well as her own baby.

Her weight was a big surprise to everyone. I was hoping she'd be just under 8 lbs. When my OB and residents felt around, they thought perhaps she'd be just a tad over 8 lbs. No one was anticipating the 8 lbs 11.7 oz.! However, she handily filled her diaper 3 times in 90 minutes and her weight dropped to 8 lbs. 9 oz.

I'm so relieved she's here safe and sound. I once mentioned to my father I wasn't sure what the Lord's plan was in having this baby we were already planning to have come so much sooner than we were prepared for. He wisely said, "You'll know why when you finally look into her face." He was right. Our little family is here and now that Sydney Pippa is a part of it, I can't imagine life any other way.

Last Supper

I took the girls to Olive Garden for one last Mommy-Daughter Date before our new addition. 

Our waiter was wonderful! Look at that huge pile of olives he brought the girls to munch on. 

I put a couple of olives on Brigitta's fingers and she loved it. As soon as she ate one she begged to have another one put on.

Brent was able to join us at the very end and Brigitta was feeding him some bread sticks.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when I take the girls out to dinner and we are enjoying our beverages and salads that Liesel will announce she needs to go to the restroom. In order for her to go to the restroom we all have to go to the restroom. She saw the look on my face and immediately told me she would hold it. Then she couldn't stop talking about it and I knew she really needed to go. I asked the people at the table next to us to please let our waiter know we didn't completely leave and to not clear the table. Apparently Ireland became very concerned my conversation with our dining neighbors wasn't enough because she accosted the first Olive Garden waiter she saw, "We're going potty, don't take our food!" She said this to him 3 times as we made our way to the restroom.

I love my girls!

It's Been a Year.

Today marks the day the girls and I moved to Iowa City to begin our time as caretakers of my parent's home while they serve their mission in South Africa. Plenty of people let us know they thought it was a colossally bad idea. "Get out of it" was a resounding theme we ran into even though the decision was made and well, Brent and I feel strongly about not going back on our word. The voices were much fewer in number, but we had a small core of people who absolutely supported us and understood our dedication to help further missionary work. One dear friend of mine told me if anyone she knew could do the single mom thing with 3 kids, it was me. She'll never know how much her vote of confidence meant to me.

Over the past year, I've come to define and redefine the word "hard." Just when I thought things couldn't get more challenging, life would throw me a curve ball. Extreme weather, illness and of course the unexpected (NOT unwanted!) pregnancy have often made me feel like I'm sinking into a very dark abyss. There have been oh so many days when I felt like I just couldn't give it one more ounce of energy. But somehow I did. Yes it was hard, but we got through it. There have been many little miracles that have let me know I am not truly alone and I have some great support from friends and family. For example, Liesel has never been late to school. That may sound like a little thing but being on time is a really, REALLY big deal to me. Many a morning I look at the clock and just know we won't make it but somehow we do. Tender mercies.

I've tried not to complain much for fear of the told-you-so naysayers jumping down my throat. More than anything I'm so grateful for those friends and family who believed in us from the beginning. Reagan is ready to take on one of my vents at a second's notice. She also has an uncanny ability to send me random, hilarious YouTube clips that not only leave me laughing but determined not to take myself so seriously. Joey sends text messages just letting me know he loves me. A lonely mom needs to hear that now and again! Katrina never says goodbye to me after a phone conversation without letting me know how amazing I am and how she thinks I'm a good mother. Logan always checks in with me after major storms to make sure the house is sound and I'm okay. Whitney also repeatedly checks in on me. Make no mistake, the entire Nielsen clan is supporting me ergo supporting my parents on this venture. Man I love my family!

There have been some surprises along the way. Remember, Brent and I were apart for the better part of 5.5 months when we made the move from Boston to Chicago. We felt we knew pretty well what we were getting into. There have been some distinct differences:

• Everyone talks about how a mission flies. I guess after a certain point it did for me when I served. I've heard my parents talk about how time flew for them when one of us kids were out in the field. That just plain doesn't hold true when you're the kid and caretaker of things back home. This year literally feels like it's been three. The time has dragged and dragged and dragged. Perhaps the second half will speed up a bit?
• As hard as it is for me, often it's harder on Brent. I thought he would really love his bachelor pad where I wasn't bugging him to put his mountain of papers away or to come to bed (he believes he needs no sleep) or incessantly checking ESPN. When things have been difficult for me, Brent's hands are tied and he's mentioned often how frustrating that is for him. More than once I've seen him tear up as one of the girls recounts something that happened during the week that he missed. 
• The weekends are busier than the weekdays. We usually have 1 car and an extremely limited amount of time to get the house in shape for the upcoming week. This includes groceries, laundry, errands and somehow there is always something that needs to be done for the house. Throw in church (and the attendant obligations) and some family activities and the weekend is over. We've become disciples of Date Night which wasn't always such a big deal to us. Now it's an absolute necessity to have time once a month to just be together and discuss our family, our dreams, our own relationship, etc.  
• I can survive without sleep. Recently I told my sister-in-law if I were ever taken prisoner and my captors tried to break me by using sleep deprivation, I'd be rock solid. Even after the babies started rolling in, I've always been a believer in 8.5 hours of sleep. There are tons of studies out there about how Americans don't get enough sleep and how many negative side effects that creates. After a year, Brigitta still doesn't sleep through the night. Throw on some illnesses and a shrinking bladder as my pregnancy progressed and I haven't had a decent 8.5 hours of sleep since we moved. But I've managed to survive. 
• The girls would step up. Like any kids they have their days, but they have stunned me with how much they've been able to take on responsibility for themselves and each other. I simply can't do everything myself and the girls have learned oh so many things to help things run smoothly. I'm so proud of them. I've also learned that kids need their dad. We do okay without Brent, but the whole family dynamic shifts when he's around. These girls love their daddy and they simply couldn't do without him. They are keenly aware of Thursdays and always ask me to tell Daddy to come say hi to them when he gets home. The notes he leaves for them on Sunday night are the first thing they run to on Monday morning. 
• I don't know how to relax. Remember how my "one word" for 2013 was BREATHE? Yeah, I can say I didn't even remotely accomplish that one. Something about me is wired for projects that often make no sense given my time and energy restraints.

The remaining year of my parents mission will be filled with many more changes for our little family: a new baby, travelling to South Africa, buying a home, reuniting our family (FOR GOOD!!!), etc.. We've learned so much from this past year and we have so much hope for the year to come! More than anything, we're happy my parents are having so many amazing adventures and helping to further the work of the gospel. The blessings have definitely trickled down.

Happy Halloween!

This year I really wanted the girls to have traditional costumes. As such, we had a clown:

There's a picture of my brother-in-law Matthew around this age as a clown. I hunted everywhere for a clown costume. Not only are they rare for this age, the only ones out there are cheaply made. As it turns out, the local craft store was going out of business so armed with a pattern, I picked up these happy fabrics. The package said it was a 2 hour project but somehow it took me the better part of 3 days to complete because I was so picky about how I wanted the finishing touches like the collar and ric-rac. I absolutely adore how it turned out! Brigitta loved wearing it too. It was just roomy enough I imagine it was very comfortable. It has a hat but she didn't love wearing that quite so much...

 a witch:

Recognize this one? Liesel was a witch at this age. I especially love the purple and orange glasses. So did Ireland.

and an angel:

I wanted to make a super fluffy tulle skirt that could also be used for dance class. There are tons of "no sew" tulle skirts out there that can be done in an hour or so. However, over time tulle has a tendency to curl up and get nasty. I wanted this skirt to last through all four girls so I painstakingly edged each piece of tulle in ribbon. This one had no pattern, just an idea in my head. In the end it was 16 layers and even though tulle is light, I managed to break the needle on the sewing machine putting on the finishing touches.

Sorry, but that skirt deserves a shot from another angle:

Liesel looked truly ethereal among all the obnoxiously bright Disney princesses:

All three:

 I usually don't dress up for Halloween but I thought of the perfect pregnancy costume and just had to run with it:

It was immediately apparent who knew their classic American literature and who did not. If you don't get it, here's a hint: I'm holding a copy of Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.

The girls made good use of their costumes! They were able to wear them to dance, then the ward trunk or treat, then school where they both had parades. I was one tired mama by the end of it all. Secretly I considered skipping their parades so I could stay home with Brigitta and nap. However, once I saw them light up when they spotted me among the parents I knew I made the better choice.

Even trekking out in the rain while severely off her nap schedule, Brigitta caught the spirit of the parades and waved to everyone she could.

Another thing she readily caught onto? Gorging on candy!