Life with Little Sis

Tomorrow, my little sister Annabelle will celebrate her three-week birthday. Feel free to send gifts.

First things first, for those interested in her well-being – she’s doing great. Her two-week checkup was last Thursday, and the doctor said she’s perfect. She’s gained back all the weight that babies lose after birth (and then some), and she’s still eating and sleeping well. She’s also very alert and engaged during the two or three hours each day that she’s not sleeping.

Because she’s nice and robust, the doctor also gave Mom and Dad permission to start doing “Tummy Time” with Annabelle, which helps strengthen her neck and back muscles – not to mention helps prevent embarrassing flat spots on the back of her head. They stuck her on her belly on the ottoman the other night, and you should’ve seen their reaction when she turned her head from one side to the other. They were more than a little excited. I swear, parents of babies are super annoying.

But since the excitement of those first few weeks has died down, I guess you need moments like these. We’ve all felt each other out, so now we’re able to settle into a nice little routine. And it is nice. Every day, I come home from daycare knowing that Mom will be out in the living room with Annabelle. I walk through the door, get a big hug from Mom, make a bee-line over to Annabelle to say hello, then head to my toy box while I wait for dinner.

I’ve grown quite fond of little Annabelle over these past three weeks, although I’m still trying to find a happy medium on how gentle I need to be with her. I love giving her kisses, but I’ve found (much to Mom and Dad’s dismay) that there’s a fine line between “loving kiss from big sister” and “Road House-style head-butt.” Same with burping. Mom lets me help burp her every once in a while after feeding, but it’s not easy to know how hard I can slap her back. [Editor’s note: It’s not easy for me, either.]

Those minor hiccups notwithstanding, things are going quite well for our little family of four.

By the way, you might have noticed that I updated the header at the top of this page, replacing the makeshift one I threw up there after Annabelle was born. Anybody who knows me knows that this is a big breakthrough, because whether it’s toys, food or the limelight, sharing isn’t exactly my forte.

So, now that she’s essentially on equal footing with me on this blog, does that mean she’ll start getting equal time when it comes to posting updates of her own? I’m not sure yet. Like I said, I’m not big on sharing. But if I were a betting girl, I’d say that, at some point, Annabelle will be sharing her own thoughts on this site. If and when it does happen, I have one request: Take everything she says about me with a grain of salt. Those head-butts can’t hurt that much.

Welcome, Annabelle!

Remember in last week's post when I said that it had been a whirlwind of activity around our house as we got ready for the new baby? Well, that was child's play compared to what we're dealing with now.

I don't know if you've heard, but if you haven't, my little sister was born last Wednesday (yes, it was on 9/11, let's move on). Here are the details: Annabelle Victoria Rose, born at 10:52 a.m. at Swedish Hospital in Seattle. She was a robust 7 pounds, 6 ounces, and she measured in at 21 inches. And I'm legally required to inform you that she and my mom are both doing wonderfully. Of course, Mom and Dad are now dealing with a 23-month-old and a newborn. Hopefully they can squeeze in a nap around Thanksgiving.

I officially met wee little Annabelle on Friday afternoon. I know that in previous posts, I've proven to be somewhat lukewarm over the prospect of having a little sister to steal away Mom and Dad's affections. But that changed the moment I saw her, when I knew that I'd love her unconditionally and protect her for the rest of my life. Was it because I looked into her tiny little face and saw a little bit of myself? A beautiful, feisty but fragile child, ready to take on the world? Yeah, maybe. But mostly it was because Mom and Dad told me that Annabelle had given me a "Big Sister" present.

It's a model airplane, complete with lights, people and all sorts of fun noises! Airplanes are near the top of the list of my favorite things in the world -- if there's one flying overhead at any time, I'll point it out, even if it occasionally ends up being just a bird -- and this is my first one to call my own. So yeah, this little runt is OK in my book.

She has other qualities, of course. Mom tells me that she's a great eater and great sleeper so far, although that may change at the drop of a hat. And I hate to toot my own family's horn, but she's pretty darn adorable. But I'm also afraid to admit that I'm a little jealous. When I was born, my head was pulled out via forceps, so my first day or so was spent with a head shaped like a peanut -- with one big lump protruding from the top of my head (it went away, of course). Annabelle was born with a perfectly round head that several nurses commented on breathlessly. Personally, I think she looks like Dr. Bunsen from the Muppets, but apparently people dig round heads. Whatever.

Either way, I'm glad to have her around, and I'm looking forward to getting into all forms of mischief with her over the next, oh, 100 years.

Now, if you're one of those people who loves a good (non-graphic) birthing story, keep reading. I was at daycare while all this was happening, but I gleaned enough from listening in on conversations around the house that I have a pretty good idea what happened on Wednesday morning.

Mom first started having contractions at about 6 a.m. Wednesday morning. She'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions for a couple of weeks so she initially didn't think much of them, although they did seem worse than usual. Knowing that Annabelle wasn't due for another nine days, and assuming these were just another round of Braxton Hicks, Dad took me to daycare and then went to work.

But the contractions continued, and my Auntie Amy (Mom's sister) was nice enough to drive Mom to see her doctor. At 9:30 a.m., Amy texted Dad and wrote "It's gonna happen today." Mom and Amy headed from the doctor's office to the hospital, getting there a little before 10 a.m. Dad started driving north from Sea-Tac, but he got stuck in traffic and didn't get to the hospital until 10:15. He wasn't worried; Mom's labor lasted about 18 hours when I was born, so he figured he'd get there in plenty of time. In hindsight, it's a good thing he didn't stop for an Egg McMuffin like he was originally planning on doing.

At 10:30, Dad finally found Mom's room, and she was just getting her epidural. Unfortunately, there was no time for those lovely, wonderful drugs to take effect, because Mom had to start pushing at 10:45. A scant seven minutes later, out came Annabelle!

So, if you're scoring at home, Annabelle was born at 10:52 a.m. Dad didn't get to the delivery room until 20 minutes prior to the birth, and Mom hadn't even gotten to the hospital until an hour prior. It seems all those people who say the second child comes much faster weren't joking around. But all's well that ends well!

[Editor's note: Funny story -- after Lauren got her epidural, Amy left the room for a few minutes. She came back in to grab her cell phone, not realizing that Lauren had already started pushing, so she was trapped in there while all this happened. It would be more entertaining to say that she was emotionally scarred and didn't speak for five days after witnessing the carnage, but she actually handled it pretty well. She and Uncle Ben have been a HUGE help in taking care of Annabelle and Eliza at various times so Lauren and I -- mostly Lauren -- are able to take some breaks.]

She's Having a Baby

 

It’s a whirlwind of activity around the Rose Household these days. Officially, Mom’s not due to give birth to my baby sister until Sept. 20, but I keep hearing her and Dad exchanging big words like “contractions,” “centimeters,” “dilated," and “holycrapareweseriouslyreadyforthis.” So they’re either studying for a spelling bee or this little brat might be on her way sooner than we expected.

Do you think they’re mentally prepared for a second baby? You tell me.

Regardless, they’re still doing a lot of last-minute work to make sure they’re as ready as possible when this baby does come. The bag is packed for the hospital, the bassinet is out of storage, all of my newborn clothes have been re-washed (mixed in with a few new ones so she doesn’t feel neglected), car seat bases are ready to be installed … you get the idea.

As part of getting to this state of readiness, Mom and Dad have been slowly preparing me for what life with a newborn will be like. Sofia, my Chinese teacher at school, taught me to say “mei-mei,” which means “little sister,” so Mom and Dad use that around me pretty regularly. Mom also makes sure to give me a lot of quality time around her belly (as you can see in the picture up top), although half the time I end up trying to jump on it like a Hippity Hop. Plus, not a day goes by where they don’t spend a few moments teaching me how to say my little sister's name.

They also gave me a present a month or so ago – my own little baby. It has a little outfit and diaper that can come on and off, so I started learning to change diapers before realizing they were only teaching me to do it so they could get out of doing the work on my sister. I haven’t done much with that diaper since. But I do take good care of the baby for the most part, although occasionally I forget that she represents an actual little baby and will chuck her across the room or bite her face.

But I’ll tell you, the realization that you’re going to be a big sister in a matter of days really gives you a new sense of perspective. Recently, I’ve spent plenty of time reflecting on what I can do to help make things easier for Mom and Dad once they’re busy taking care of two kids. I’ve made a lot of changes, knowing that it’s time to grow up and be a productive member of this household. Here are just a few of the ways I’ve bettered myself in recent weeks.

I'm learning to help out in the kitchen to take a little bit of pressure off of Mom.

Nobody can handle a salad spinner like me.

Part of being a big girl is putting on a happy face and taking one for the team,

even when your parents make you wear some stupid new hat that makes you look ridiculous.

As you can see here, I gave myself a black eye a few weeks back.

Knowing that I need to stay healthy so I can pull my weight, I've decided to be as safe as possible at all times.

Growing up also means taking responsibility for good oral hygiene.
Those giant Rose teeth can't take care of themselves.

OK, so maybe "growing up" wasn't the right choice of words.

¡Hola!

A few weeks back, Dad got an email from a friend, asking where I attend daycare. Turns out that I’ve mentioned daycare a few times on this site, but I’ve never actually said where I go. And it seems that some people care (OK, one person cares).

So here’s the scoop. Since last October, I’ve been spending my weekdays at EuropaKids International Preschool in glamorous Burien, Wash. Here are just a couple of photos, one of my classroom, and one of our playground.

 

It’s a really cool place that uses full immersion to teach kids foreign languages. Me? I’m in the Spanish/Chinese toddler class, so my teachers speak nothing but – you guessed it – Spanish and Mandarin Chinese.

Does this mean that Mom and Dad are crazy, overbearing parents who want me to be fluent in three languages by the age of 6, graduate college at 10, discover cold fusion at 13 and take over Microsoft, KFC and Wayne Enterprises at 18? Possibly. But more likely, they figured that if they were going to shell out entirely too much money for daycare, I may as well go someplace where I’ll learn something in the process.

And I’ve certainly been learning. On top of the language immersion, we have a curriculum that’s a scaled-back version of what the preschoolers learn. I’m not saying I’m ready to write a dissertation for a Ph.D., but I’m at least learning my ABCs. We also went on a fun field trip to the Pacific Science Center just a few weeks after I started going there. Here we are, ready to learn!

I'm the tiny one on the left.

But the language aspect is the interesting part. Like any toddler, my brain is like a gigantic sponge, ready to soak up anything it can, so I’m picking up quite a bit of Spanish and Chinese. In fact, one of my first words, after “Mama” and “Daddy,” was “gracias.” Mom and Dad often hear me as I wander around the house, muttering under my breath in broken Chinese. And half the time, if you ask me to say yes, I’ll shout out “Si!”

Is it utterly confusing? Of course. But is it utterly adorable? Si!

Now, part of the reason Mom and Dad chose EuropaKids for me is that Burien was located smack dab between West Seattle (where we lived when I started going there) and SeaTac, where Dad works. Thus, it was nice and easy for him to drop me off on the way to work and pick me up on the way home. With us living quite a bit further north now, it probably might have made sense to choose a daycare provider closer to our house, but they’ve been so impressed by it over the past 10 months that they don’t plan on switching unless it’s absolutely necessary.

You can't tell from this photo, but kids do actually enjoy this place.
I look like I was just told my car was stolen.

But Mom and Dad do have one minor quibble. A few months back, I got a little too messy during arts and crafts, so the teachers had to put me in a new outfit. A certain shirt had been put in the lost and found, and they mistakenly thought it was mine, so they put it on me. Imagine Mom and Dad’s surprise when they picked me up that day and I was wearing this monstrosity...

Yikes!

But other than that one hiccup, Mom and Dad are more than satisfied with EuropaKids. How much to they like the place? Well, they’ve already enrolled my little sister-to-be in the infant class there. I can’t wait – in a couple of years, the two of us will be able to talk behind our parents’ backs, right to their faces.