Bottles made: 1,408
Diapers changed: 1,056
Throws (of dog toys): 4,381
Minutes of Olympics watched: 5,760
Gallons of coffee brewed and consumed: 25
Almost-guilt-free-new-mom trips to NYC: 1
Daddy/Daughter/Puppy solo days: 4.5
Number of times googling “is xxxx normal for a baby?”: 44
Miles walked: 292 for M & K & Gatsby, 0 for Libby
Miles rolled: .003 for Gatsby, .007 for Libby, 0.0 for M & K
Vaccines: 3 each for M & K, 6 for Libby, 1 for Gatsby
Hours spent crying: 352 for Libby, 12 for K, 2 for M, 0 for Gatsby
Spit up stains on clothes, furniture, and carpet: 28
Centimeters dilated: 5
Major surgeries: 1
Books read: 50 for K, 35 for M, 243 for Libby (and yes, she’s advanced, but those are obviously books read to her)
Times Gatsby barked at an Amazon delivery driver: 126
Pints of beer consumed: 22
Minutes spent listening to music: 17,294
Weeks of work: 44 for M, 31 for K, 52 for Gatsby (keeping the house safe is a full time job!)
Cheers over a baby farting on their own: 386
Ounces of breastmilk pumped: 7,011
Inches of sandwiches consumed: 312
Hours donated to CASA kiddos: 85
Laughs: Innumerable
Doctors visits: 10 for K, 4 for M, 5 for Libby
Age group ranking in El Tour 28 mile ride: 7 out of 88 (M, in case that wasn’t clear)
Times we said “Oh, she’s a girl”: 14
Sleep lost year over year: 21.4%
Loads of laundry: 104
Miles ridden: 497.8 for M, 24.4 for K (thanks to *great* balance while pregnant)
Visitors: 40
Weeds pulled: 10,000
Weeds left to pull: 1,000,000
Times we checked the grammar and the accuracy of this math: 0
Last year as I was getting ready for Christmas, I was 7 weeks pregnant. I was nervous as hell about the little one I was carrying and not feeling great. I pulled out our Christmas decorations and right on top was the “E” stocking Libby is holding. I’ve always known that if I had a daughter one day, I wanted to name her Elizabeth. Matt bought that stocking Christmas of 2016 and it’s been in the box of decorations ever since. It stayed in the box last year because I was afraid of more heartbreak. This year, there was a sweet rainbow baby to play with it under the tree. We are so grateful.
It really doesn’t need to be said, but 2021 was another hard year on every level. Parenthood has stretched us in so many ways and the sleep deprivation was not a joke. We’ve cried a lot more and been completely empty. But we’ve also laughed every single day and spent so much time delighting in the life of Libby. We’re really trying to be content living in the tension between all the personal happiness and the worldwide sadness, between new life and the death of loved ones, between the smiles we get from Libby in the morning and the wish that she would sleep just a few more minutes, between accepting advice and knowing we’re going to strike out on our own path of parenthood, between knowing Libby should have the best of us and knowing we should have a chance to feel our best as individuals. We’re deep in the learning. The year is now 2022, but we expect our days will remain mostly the same: lots of baby snuggles, trying to find time for ourselves, and all growing the best we know how.
Thanks to all of you who have helped or been a witness to our lives.
May you feel loved. May you feel whole. May you find peace.
Sunday Cereal 