Almost every day, someone asks me how the sisters are doing together and how Madelyn is feeling since having Arielle home. I am proud — and relieved — to say that it’s been 14 weeks of Arielle-ness, and not once, even for a nanosecond, has Madelyn ever acted out, felt jealous, or wished her sister away.

Just today, Arielle was crying because… who knows… and Madelyn and I looked at each other with exasperated eyes and I said with some sarcasm, “Ok! That’s it. She’s going back in!” and Madelyn put her hand on my tummy and said, “Noooo, Mommy! You can’t put my sister back in! She has to be out of your tummy so I can always be with her.”

And that was just one instance of Big Sis showing her Lil Sis some love.

A few weeks ago, I was in my bathroom doing my makeup before taking the girls out for the day. Of course I only had about five minutes left of putting on my face, but that’s when Arielle decided to do a ping pong match with her pacifier where she’d spit it back out after I put it back in. This exercise continued and I decided that I just needed to finish the mascara and I’d be able to then pick her up and we’d be on the move.

So just as predicted, the first coat was going on Lefty, and Arielle began her wail. I told myself to stay strong, that I’d be ready to pick her up in a few minutes, and then I heard Madelyn barreling down the hall: “I got it! I GOT IT! I GOT ITTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!” and in a blink of my newly spidery eyes, the baby stopped crying, Madelyn was rocking her, and singing, quite appropriately, “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Arielle was silent. And then she began to coo at Madelyn who started to talk to her gently in her baby voice: “It’s Ok, Baby Sister. I’m here. I’m Maddie. I’m your big sister. I will always make sure you’re happy. I can’t wait to teach you things.” And then she proceeded to list all of the things she wants to teach her and do with her, which included reading, playing with Princeton, and going potty.

And then my stupid mascara dripping was all over my cheeks. Must’ve been allergies. Or some onion chopping… invisibly taking place… in my bathroom. Yeah.

Every week, when I take Arielle’s photo to document her age, Madelyn always wants to jump in and be in the photo with her. At first I thought maybe this was the jealousy and it was finally showing up, but then Madelyn would declare, “I just want to be in the photo with Arielle so she can always remember us together.” I mean. What? Really?

So now each week, I have record of both girls growing together.

Even in the hospital, Madelyn was curious and never cautious. She owned Arielle from the moment she arrived. She knew right away to speak to her in a sweet voice and was always quiet and calm around her, despite her genuine excitement. She proudly wore her Big Sister couture, never felt left out even when I was in bed with the baby so we could get to know each other.

Before Arielle was born, friends advised me to have a basket of special toys for Madelyn to play with while I nursed the baby since those first few weeks typically require us to be attached to each other. The theory is that the basket of unique toys would distract the big sister from the fact that Mom is giving a lot of attention to the baby sister. Well, I never got my act together and no such basket ever came to fruition.

Instead, Madelyn gave US a gift. If she wasn’t off playing happily and independently while we tended to all of Arielle’s needs, she was right by our side, helping out and assisting as a second or third set of hands. And those long hours of nursing Arielle in her room presented us with a greater gift than any basket of presents we could’ve given to Madelyn: She would sing and dance, dress up in costumes, and perform shows for us. Not only did this keep me entertained while nursing — which, admittedly, can be kind of boring and exhausting — but it made Arielle more and more familiar with her future idol. As the weeks went on and the baby became more aware of her surroundings, she began to fixate on Madelyn right away, and I really think it’s because she heard her voice and felt her presence so often.

Now, Arielle lights up when Madelyn enters the room. This past week at Gymboree, we were discussing who our babies’ favorite people are besides Mom (read: food), and without a doubt, I was able to list Madelyn. When she’s around, Arielle quits crying, and she doles out smiles for free to her big sis, which makes Madelyn reciprocate with excited squeals.

As an only child, it is so super cool to see how the girls treat each other and react to each other. I know that the future holds more of a … variety… of emotions between these two. But their foundation now is strong. I am so thankful that Madelyn embraced her baby sister. And really, I never expected she wouldn’t. I always kind of knew she’d be a terrific big sister and wouldn’t display any negative reactions. For the sake of honesty, I was always worried about how I, the mother, would accept a new child into our home. Things were so established with Madelyn and she’s such a great kid. I kept wondering how I could ever love another little one.

It wasn’t love at first sight either. I was quite happy with Arielle and glad she was here, but I still didn’t know HOW I would fit her into our very tight unit. We took her home, and between the distractions of recovering from surgery and figuring out breastfeeding, I wasn’t quite bonded with her yet — I mean, I thought she was very cute and sweet, but didn’t really know what to DO with this new baby.

And then it hit me. Madelyn was a big sister. She grew into her new role like a pro, like it was always meant to happen for her. And I began to fall in love with Arielle through the eyes of Madelyn.

At the end of my pregnancy, I had shared my concerns with of our dear friends who is also very wise with two darling daughters of his own. He said that his older daughter made them a family and his younger daughter completed it. Those words definitely ring true for me now and thanks to Madelyn, I had my “Ah ha!” moment of really FALLING in love with Arielle, our sweet little newcomer.

Madelyn allowed me to truly adore and enjoy our baby. The guilt and concerns I felt before she arrived all dissipated once I saw Madelyn as a big sister. I can’t wait to see their relationship grow, and I know that Arielle will always be on the right track with such a wonderful role model in front of her. Time will tell how different they may be, but these two sisters share one big thing: my heart.

Wednesday marks eight weeks of an accomplishment I never thought I’d make.

Before she was born, I knew I wanted the experience of breastfeeding Arielle, It’s what I’d planned to do with Madelyn, but I had to stop early due to the infection at the C-section site. As she grew, I remained sad about not having the opportunity to breastfeed and harbored a lot of anger toward the doctor who dismissed my suspicion that something was wrong with me. I knew that if we ever had another child, I would attempt breastfeeding again.

I don’t really know why it was so important to me. After all, I am not even against formula or claim in any way that it’s poison. Thank goodness for formula! It’s what nourished and grew my happy and healthy first child who rarely suffers illnesses, accomplished milestones ahead of or on time, eased into developmental transitions, and continues to outsmart us in almost every area of life.

Still, though, I longed for the experience that formula can’t give; the utter (udder?) mammalian connection between mother and biological child.

So when it was time to feed Arielle about an hour into her life in the outside world, I was essentially starting over. The nurse helped us latch, gave me tips about positioning, and explained to me what I should listen and look for. As the days went on and I was able to move better and better, we continued to establish a breastfeeding relationship. It was simple at first, but then became more and more painful. Nurses said our latch looked fine, and I was told I was doing it right, but I should just keep nursing and power through the pain that would leave within the week as my body became used to all the new sensations and activity. So I did. In the bubble of the hospital, I learned how to breastfeed Arielle.

Milk came in the day before we were discharged so on top of all kinds of lightning-like pain, I suffered some pretty intense engorgement. Our wonderful pediatrician came in one morning to do her routine assessment on Arielle, and we giggled together as I greeted her with pillows of ice across my chest.

I don’t know how I did it, but I just kept telling myself to keep on keeping on.

Our first night home was a disaster. I’m still looking to meet the mom who hasn’t cried on her first night home from the hospital. Are you out there, Miracle Woman? Do you exist? Has anyone ever had a peaceful night without tears the day the baby comes home? Between hormones and the absence of the safety net of the wonderful nurses, I lost it. The pain suddenly increased and I was noticing blood and scabbing. The engorgement seemed out of control, and I swore I was going to float away like the house in “Up” due to the balloons under my shirt. The discomfort and the resulting crying baby left me in a puddle of tears from The Ugly Cry.

Twelve hours later, I had a lactation consultant in my house.

She taught me how to latch differently. She inspected my breasts. She assessed Arielle’s anatomy. Even though my face was still puffy from hours of crying, I began to feel better about having this personal support at my fingertips six days after Arielle’s arrival. She did notice, however, that Arielle’s tongue didn’t seem to wiggle out past her gums. And after additional inspection, she decided that Arielle was tongue tied; that her frenulum (the tissue that connects the tongue to the bottom of the mouth) was tight and preventing the tongue from making the necessary movements to suck and swallow correctly. I learned that this is very common, but usually goes undiagnosed if the baby is not breastfed because it’s the uncomfortable experience that brings attention to the tongue tie. If the baby is not breastfed, later in life, the child or adult might have issues with range of motion, speech, behavior, or ear, nose, and throat channels. I was glad we caught this, not only for my own comfort, but for Arielle’s overall health.

So on her eighth day, Arielle had a tongue bris. The ENT physician was so knowledgeable and supportive of breastfeeding. The procedure was hard for me to watch as I held her hands, but immediately after, I was able to nurse Arielle and I noticed a difference. By releasing the frenulum with a small cut, her movement was more breastfeeding-friendly, and we were able to continue on our journey while I simultaneously healed.

It wasn’t smooth sailing though. I continued to encounter bumps in the road. My pump was uncomfortable. Engorgement took over again. A plugged duct killed an entire day that I was sure would also kill me. Two weeks in, and I was miserable. I had threatened to quit breastfeeding approximately 47 times and every time, I chickened out because I didn’t want to quit breastfeeding. I wanted to like it. And I knew I could get to that point eventually only because so many friends had been in my shoes and told me it passes. This was a test of my strength and stamina.

I am part of a wonderful Facebook group with local moms who all gave me great advice. Two friends from the group spent hours replying to texts and looking at photos to consult me during those hard times. Late night FaceTime sessions helped talk me off a ledge. Therapeutic phone calls with friends added to my arsenal of information to battle the challenges I experienced (thanks, Gretch, for the APNO recipe!). I began going to a breastfeeding support group on Wednesdays and it has since become my favorite day of the week.

The weeks went by and the pain began to dwindle. What was once pain throughout an entire nursing session became pain only during the first few minutes. Then those minutes turned into only one. That one became a half. And now, when Arielle latches, I don’t feel pain. I feel pride.

The nurses said it would take about two to three weeks. Well. No. Biggest lie of my life. Six weeks in, I stopped having anxiety before each feeding. And now, we’re at eight weeks, and the only reason why I find myself sighing before she eats is because the dog needs to go outside, Madelyn needs help putting on her socks, errands still have to be completed, I haven’t showered yet, and it’s 5 o’clock and I need to start preparing dinner. I didn’t need a breastfeeding miracle. I need a clone.

We’ve even figured out how to successfully nurse when we are out of the house. At first I was so nervous to leave home because I wasn’t sure how I would perform the breastfeeding choreography without the comfort of my special chair and positioning. But now, I can nurse while waiting for a table at a restaurant, off to the side at Target, and even standing up while microwaving Madelyn’s dinner. I don’t profess to know everything, but I know what works for me. So far. At this point. I know things will change as she grows and develops, but I now feel equipped to roll with it.

My mom breastfed me during a time when a lot of moms felt that formula was the magical milk that was just as good as breast milk. Maybe it was. It was the 80s after all. But what interested me in breastfeeding and inspired me to try it and work through my obstacles was the experience itself that she shared with me. She told me about the amazing bond she felt, and the closeness of our relationship. She shared with me that it felt good, and how sweet it was. While she didn’t breastfeed me for an extended amount of time due to being a working mom (again, it was the 80s after all), she still felt the depth and benefits of nursing. Needless to say, I was intrigued, and wanted to understand first hand these memories my mom had of nursing me. So every time i swore I was going to quit between gasping, snorting sobs, she encouraged me to keep going and power through.

So many friends who support breastfeeding told me it was OK to quit. That my happiness mattered most and Arielle would be fine. Of course she would. Madelyn is a shining star. My stubbornness was selfish. I didn’t want to quit for me. I knew my baby would get fed regardless; but if I quit, I would never have this experience again. It was now or never. I wanted to reap the benefits of breastfeeding for myself and make the choice to quit for whatever reason after we were established, not during a low moment. I didn’t want to regret it later on because I knew the pain of regret would be greater than the pain at the breast.

But my true rock? My greatest support? My husband. He doesn’t have boobs and he was raised on formula. He’s not a hippie and he hated seeing me in pain. He usually chooses the path of least resistance, but is just as stubborn as I am. He was there for me with a glass of water and a flexi straw every time I was due to nurse. He helped me plan a blueprint of a schedule to get us through a good day. He could have told me to just forget it; that my constant crying was stressful and annoying; that it would just be soooooo much easier to shake up a scoop of powder and water. He was sympathetic and gentle, exactly what I needed to keep going. He continues to be there for every middle-of-the-night feeding, not even because I need help with breastfeeding specifically, but because we are a team and he wants the best for me and the best for our daughter. So while I prepare to nurse Arielle, he changes her diaper and brings her to me. It’s a relay and we work well together. I am so, so thankful to have a supportive partner like him because even though he can’t possibly understand what I’ve gone through, he knew how important it was to me. He wanted me to succeed, so he did everything to empower me. True love.

My personal opinion is that everyone, if they can, should try to breastfeed. I’ve never felt more female or important. I feel much more bonded with Arielle than I did with Madelyn at this stage of newbornhood. My mental state is completely normal and I feel extremely clearheaded and recovered from surgery and post partum symptoms. My weight loss kicked into gear much sooner than it did last time, and I not only feel connected with Arielle’s body, but with my own, too. I am constantly in awe of the fact that I have the ability and honor of feeding my baby and how miraculous my body is for making it possible.

Breastfeeding is not easy. The fact that it’s the most natural thing a woman’s body can do does not mean that it’s the easiest thing. I don’t know very many women who say it’s not painful in the beginning, or messy, or stressful. It was all those things for me. Between inconvenient leaking that left a trail like I was Hansel AND Gretel to predicting feeding times with opportunities to sleep, I found beginning breastfeeding to be extremely challenging. I did it anyway. Anyone who knows me knows that I usually quit things that are difficult and too much trouble. Except this time.

A woman’s anatomy is truly amazing, and I have nothing but pride to do what it’s been made to do along with all other mammals. Our society has made breasts to be acceptable as only sexual accessories, but nobody is grossed out about the mama dog feeding her puppies or the new baby giraffe nuzzling with its mom for milk. I joke that I’m Arielle’s pantry. The kitchen is always open and I will continue to feed my baby until one or both of us is done. I’ve come so far and have never felt more proud. With the ongoing support of my friends, my mom, and Bryan, I know Arielle will continue to get the best. I love that she and I have a unique relationship that nobody else in her life can duplicate and I have the ability to take her from frantic to calm with cuddling and milk.

***

When new moms come to the Wednesday breastfeeding support group filled with anxiety and tears — the usual signs of having a one or two-weeker — I empathetically tell them it will all be OK and it gets better. It wasn’t long ago that I was hearing the same thing, and I am now honored to take my place in the sisterhood and support others from the other side of the fence.

A big sister must be prepared for her sibling duties, so just like my mom made me take an SAT prep course in my junior year of high school, we enrolled Madelyn in “Siblings R Special” at Los Robles Hospital to make sure she passed the ultimate test with flying colors.

Initially, she was scheduled for the class the weekend before. It’s only offered once a month, and I opted for the date closest to our c-section so that Madelyn would have all the information fresh in her head. I was so excited to watch her have a sister experience that’s all about her, so imagine my utter disappointment when we got to the class and it had been canceled due to the teacher’s illness. The high school volunteers at the hospital almost had to admit me to a room with rubber walls.

I called first thing Monday and begged them to reschedule the class. They did! So, four days before Eviction Day, Madelyn got to take her class and we enjoyed the little nuggets of information the teacher shared. Madelyn learned how to hold the baby properly, and the teacher also explained that the belly button would look funny.

Madelyn got to color a picture that would go on the baby’s cart-bed and — nice touch — the volunteers took a family photo of us at the beginning of class that was ready by the end, so we could affix the photo to Madelyn’s picture.

The class ended with a tour of the maternity level and a stop at the nursery so she could see where her little sister would be right after delivery. We looked at the new babies in there and she recalled pictures she’d seen of herself in the very same nursery just over three-and-a-half years ago.

I definitely think she aced the class. The final exam is on Wednesday. We’ll see how all her studying pays off.

Oh, and P.S., I cried about 6 separate times during the class. That’s pretty much every ten minutes. I blame hormones. Either that, or there was an invisible kitchen in the classroom with an invisible chef cutting up onions in the back. Why would seeing Madelyn hold an oversized, plastic, lifeless baby doll without any of my DNA make me well up? Or walking past the nursery and seeing other strangers’ fresh, new babies? Psshhh. Hospital fumes.

After Big Sister Academics on Saturday, it was time for Big Sister Extra Curriculars. Madelyn, ever the ultimate girly-girl, has always admired my nails after I come home from a manicure or pedicure. She loves to rub her fingers of the smooth polish and analyze the color I’ve picked. She also likes to watch me put on my makeup every morning and regularly declares, “I’m not a big girl yet, but when I am one day, I will get to wear makeup and get my nails painted, right Mommy?” I always tell her that, yes, makeup is for grown up ladies and that painted nails are for super big girls. Honestly, I’ve avoided putting nail polish on her fingers simply because I haven’t wanted to open up a can of worms of vanity or set up expectations that it can be a regular thing for her.

But between solidifying the idea that she’s about to be a big sister — and, therefore, a “big girl” — and the selfish fact that I’m an emotional mess, holding on to every last bonding opportunity with my only child who made me a mommy in the first place, I decided that the week of the baby’s arrival would be a good time to finally treat her to her first manicure!

After school on Monday, I told her we were going to do a surprise. She immediately began guessing. “Trader Joe’s?” “The bagel store?” “Nordstrom?” I suppose she has me pegged. But I told her it was something she’s never done at a place she’s never been to. She guessed: “A new Target in a new city?”

This girl is a victim of routine.

We walked into the nail salon and she didn’t seem to catch on right away. So I explained to her what we were doing and her eyes lit up. I told her to pick a color and she immediately picked up a sweet pink — shocker! — but then I switched it out for a better brand! OPI’s “Pinking of You” was the winner. I explained the pun. She was not as impressed as her mother. One day.

I had my nails done first; a set of sparkly, soft pink gels to really ensure a good two weeks out of my paws. Madelyn stared at the UV box in horror and I reassured her that her manicure did not entail this exercise.

When it was her turn, her manicurist, Nancy, simply painted her nails pink and Madelyn watched with very big eyes. I had to keep reminding her to stay very still and to let her hands relax and stay away from touching anything. At the very end, Nancy added white flowers to her thumbs with jewels in the middle of the petals. Madelyn lit up. She loved it. She could not stop staring at her nails and I loved watching her awe.

When we got home, she ran into Bryan’s office and was so excited to show him. She’s been staring at her nails all night and I made sure to remind her a few times that she got to have a manicure because she’s a big girl and it’s what we do for very special occasions — like becoming a big sister!

Next big beauty milestone will likely be an eyebrow wax in about ten years. That’s a little less exciting and glamorous, so I hope she savored today.

I’m so happy that all of the photos of Madelyn holding her sister on Wednesday will have a glimmer of our special, surprise mommy-daughter manicure day together.

It’s at this point in any pregnancy, when you grunt while simply getting out of a chair or you massage your own lower back as you shift weight when standing or you run to the bathroom in a Niagara Falls-like pee-mergency only to encounter two measly and underwhelming drip drops that people give you a sympathetic look and say, “You must be so over it!”

And yet, I’m not.

At 36 weeks pregnant with three weeks to go until scheduled eviction day, I am not over it. I’m not ready to be done. I’m not hoping for the days to fly by so that March 4th can hurry up and be here. I am actually wanting more time, more kicks, more 4:45 a.m. on-the-dot potty wake ups.

This is our second* and last baby. And then that’s it. Babies grow up; I get old. This phase of my life will be over. Yes, I know, then have more babies. But damn. College is expensive. So no, the fiscally responsible thing to do is to quit while we’re ahead. Two heads, to be exact. Two precious heads of girly, curly cuteness.

I’m one of those weirdos who really likes being pregnant. And I come with my own fair share of weird pregnancy symptoms, so it’s not even like I’ve had the most perfect and painless human-making experience. I’m suffering from an itchy belly that makes me want to go to town on my skin with a fork, turning it fifty shades of red, which is a whole new brand of a hurts-so-good franchise.

My leg is also going numb now, so that’s fun. If I stand for more than five minutes, a chicken breast-size area of my lateral quad goes tingly and cold and I can’t feel anything superficially. It is SO. FREAKING. WEIRD. My little bundle is sitting on a nerve, I guess, which is really a lot of nerve.

And, in an act of betrayal by my own girly parts, I also suffered through some pretty gnarly procedures and pains that went so far as to motivate me to buy an undergarment I endearingly called the Over the Shoulder Vulva Holder, so there’s that. I promptly returned it, in case you were wondering, because my condition was beyond this device’s capabilities, and minor vascular surgery was a more direct remedy. Really good times. Really.

And yet, here I am declaring that I don’t hate pregnancy. Clearly, growing a human has also made me delusional because why else would I enjoy it even with these symptoms? I just do. I’ve never felt more female and feminine. Creating life makes me feel powerful. I find a growing belly to be extremely beautiful. Also, not caring about the combo of jeans and a muffintop is always nice, and I really love maternity clothes (my credit card does not).

But even more than the pregnancy experience, becoming a mother was what I always wanted. The mystery and miracle of pregnancy had always intrigued me and, by the end of this second daughter’s gestation, I will go from having experienced 18 months of this wonder and then never to experience it again in my life. My job as a woman will be over and then I’m not cooler than my male parenting partner. He’s pretty cool, though, so I don’t mind being on his level, but the parts that make me a lady, the ones that will have hosted two healthy and happy girls will essentially have no reason to do their jobs. They will be “displaced,” no longer with the company, fired, actually (and I will still have to pay severance once a month, which seems even more unfair). Yay for being almost 32 with a completed family.

I’m going to enjoy the itchies and the numbies in these last three weeks before Baby Girl Friedman 2.0 comes because I will never associate them with such a happy thing ever again. Future skin rashes will just be annoying, and potential numbness of body parts means something might actually be wrong. But now, these inconveniences I’ve endured are simply battle wounds from a great victory.

And while I am trying to enjoy the ups and downs of my final pregnancy, I am also holding onto the greatest gift of my first go ’round: one-on-one time with Madelyn. It’s hard to imagine she’s closing in on her experience as an only child, one that I know all too well. She’s the light of our lives and the center of our universe. Sharing it with another little girl seems impossible and I can’t wrap my head around how that works, but I’ve been told it does. Each cuddle session and hug we exchange every night and every morning are becoming more and more special, that I regret not breathing them in even deeper for the past three-and-a-half years.

I know she’s about to also enjoy a new adventure and title as Big Sister and I’m excited to watch her blossom, which is what’s keeping my eye on the prize as I count down the end to our perfect little threesome. I just keep telling myself that being Madelyn’s mom is like getting to eat one giant piece of chocolate cake and that adding to our family is getting TWO giant pieces of chocolate cake, and really, who doesn’t want more than one piece of chocolate cake?!

BRING ON THE CHOCOLATE CAKES.

Especially because they don’t require paying for college tuition.

So no, Nosey Lady At Trader Joe’s, I am not miserable or looking forward to being done with pregnancy. I am savoring these last bits of what I believe to be my greatest purpose. And then I suppose it’s time for Phase 2: raising two well-adjusted girls who will only slightly hate me as teenagers. And I’ll be so old, I won’t even care about tight jeans and muffintops again.

*Princeton is under the impression I am concluding my third pregnancy.

Now that we’ve been back to reality for a month and the tans have worn off and the aches and pains from sitting on an airplane have been replaced by aches and pains from {insert all activity while 34 weeks pregnant here}, I figured it was time to do a little nostalgic hula down memory lane.

The flight to Kauai was just over six hours and it was rough. The crew was nasty, the plane was packed, and my body was not impressed with being confined to a seat for so long. Madelyn, on the other hand, was a total champ. She slept for two hours and managed to stay happy thanks to coloring books and 79283742 episodes of “Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood.” We bought her her very own set of headphones and she wore them very proudly and stayed entertained. There is no doubt that she was way better behaved on the flight than I was!

We arrived at our hotel to enjoy a great room with a pool and ocean view. Bryan and I stayed at this Marriott property on our honeymoon and it was great to be back, especially after some nice updates and renovations. We rested and cleaned up from our travel day, and then walked the short path to Duke’s for dinner, but not without Madelyn modeling for the camera first.

Madelyn couldn’t wait to go swimming in Kauai. We had told her that our hotel had a gigantic pool and she was so excited to wear her floatie and swim.

The water was cold in the pool! Bryan went in with her most of the time because I am a wimp when it comes to water temperature. But I was also her partner in vegging, and she very quickly got accustomed to resort life.

Bryan was also Madelyn’s sand castle partner. He showed her all the techniques and introduced her to proper ratios of water and sand. He taught her how to dump bucket molds properly and about accessorizing castles with sticks and seaweed. I loved watching my little architect become so passionate about sand castles. I was happy to let them have their building bonding time because I don’t like sand in my bits and sitting on the beach means getting stuck on the beach. #pregnantproblems

We also ventured away from the hotel pool and beach. The great part about visiting Kauai is that it’s small and with a car, it’s super easy to get around to see all sides of the island.

We took a drive to the very end of the road past Hanalei but made stops along the way to see waterfalls, burgers, boobies, and beach.

With two must-have burger joints on the road, we couldn’t go Sophie’s Choice on the meal and decided to have lunch twice; once at Ono Char Burger alongside the resident roosters and a few hours later at Bubba Burgers in Hanalei. Bubba is also next door to a pretty delicious shave ice place, so of course we had to enjoy our first shave ice of the trip. Madelyn had no idea what was coming. Her mind was blown.

Between our burger breaks, we visited Kilauea Lighthouse. The lighthouse itself is not that exciting, though it is a pretty structure. The real draw to this stop is the gorgeous views from the tip of the island and the sanctuary of boobies. Boobies are birds. It’s fun to talk about boobies in public and how they fly and swoop. Boobies boobies boobies.

We finally made it to the end of our drive at Ke’e Beach where the road ends and the Napali Coast takes over with its monstrous, lush jungle mountains.

Madelyn was so thrilled to be at a new beach that she tackled me with love and how could I resist? Bryan had the camera ready and I’m so glad he caught these moments of her love attack. On day three of our trip, she continued to be in the happiest of spirits, never complaining and always appreciating everything we showed her in our beloved Kauai. It was at this moment that I was reminded how lucky we are to be raising Madelyn who is so positive and delightful. She really seems to “get it” and we love that she has the travel bug, too.

Madelyn took in her new surroundings and ran around the beach before settling into the sand with Bryan for another creation.

Then, we spotted our first rainbow and Madelyn was pretty enamored with the sight. It was one of those perfect rainbows that disappeared as quickly as it came and showed vibrant colors at its pique. I was hoping we’d get to see a famous Hawaiian rainbow on our trip, and this day did not disappoint. This rainbow reappeared over and over again over the course of our hour at the Ke’e Beach.

We learned the day before at the beach at the hotel that Madelyn does not like going into the ocean. The waves scared her and the endlessness of it seemed to make her nervous. It took a little convincing, but she was finally OK with going in the water at Ke’e Beach because the water was calm and smooth like glass. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to float in the Pacific Ocean with my best girl, so I got over my water temperature snobbiness and we bounced around together, singing and giggling.

After our fingers had turned into raisins, Madelyn relaxed on the beach while Bryan snapped a few belly shots. Apparently we wanted to remember what 28 weeks looks like the second time around. Then Madelyn wanted in so she could give kisses to her little sister. And I melted into a puddle that was bigger than the water we’d just come out of.

The next day, we spent the day at the hotel pool and beach again to take it easy after our adventure the day before. We met an older woman from Mississippi on the beach who managed to tell me her entire life story and how her granddaddy built her Baptist church and that every Sunday, she and her husband sat in the pews named after her family and she sings the loudest during the hymns. She also blessed me a million times for my pregnancy and upcoming baby. She then kneeled down to Madelyn and gushed about how she reminded her of the angels in her Sunday school class that she teaches.

She followed up her friendly and kind conversation by asking Madelyn if she likes to sing. Madelyn confidently nodded her head. So the lady asked her if she knew the song “Jesus Loves You” and Madelyn stared at her like she had 50 eyeballs on her head. When she didn’t answer, the nice lady gave us her own personal recital and giggled to us that Madelyn must be shy for not singing the lyrics with her. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that not only did Madelyn not know the words to “Jesus Loves You,” but that we were also on a family vacation during Hanukkah and that the last song she sang at preschool was about a dreidel. This experience was one of the funniest and most bizarre moments of my life, but this lady was so nice with good intentions.

After she left, we blessed the sand with our own creation: a Madelyn Mermaid. She loved being buried and giggled about her sandy fins.

That evening, we got cleaned up to go see a Hula show in the same shopping center as one of our favorite restaurants, Roy’s. However, we were in lots of traffic going into Poipu, and we missed the Hula show. I was so sad because I wasn’t sure when else we would be able to go before our trip ended, so we let Madelyn run around to get some of her wiggles out from the long car ride before dinner and her silly antics cheered me up.

We went to the beautiful nearby Hyatt resort to walk around the property and ended up watching a Hawaiian singer in the lounge where Madelyn danced to his music and put on her own little show for us. We also learned we could come back to the Hyatt a few days later to take a Hula class and see a Hula show. I was so glad to have that final option and couldn’t wait to come back!

We bought a pineapple earlier in the week at a nearby market and it was finally ready to eat, so the next morning, I called for room service to bring up a knife and I performed major surgery on that gem so we could enjoy its juicy island flavor.

Madelyn was so excited to eat real Hawaiian pineapple and she loved watching me slice it up. It was a yummy way to start the day and it sure beat room service.

With our bellies full of pineapple, we woke up our appetites to grab some delicious Mexican food from a food truck I’d read about. We drove to Koloa Town to try Chalupa’s and it did not disappoint! Our food was delicious and was the perfect lunch before making the long drive to the other end of the island to check out Hanapepe and Waimea Canyon.

Hanapepe is an old little town and we went to show Madelyn the swinging bridge. We walked across the bridge 6.5 years before when we came to Kauai for our honeymoon, but we thought Madelyn would get a kick out of crossing a river on a suspension bridge. And then walk back. It’s very anticlimactic, but it’s quirky and kitschy and something you’ve just to go do when visiting Kauai.

And it must’ve made some kind of impression on her because every bridge we saw or walked on throughout the rest of the trip, including the bridge over the pool at our resort, was called a Hanapepe Bridge.

Plus, the photo opps were fun!

After a long and windy drive up to Waimea Canyon, we woke up a sleeping Madelyn to take in the miraculous view of the Grand Canyon of Hawaii. As many times as I’ve seen Waimea Canyon, it’s still a breathtaking sight.

No photo truly does it justice. The ropey red mountains with a cavernous valley below are so powerful to take in. The waterfall gives the perfect dose of Hawaii. The breeze is the only sound over the murmur of amazed visitors who exchange buzzes of conversation for photography trades. We also partook, and thank goodness, because it’s not often we’ll have a family photo with this landscape.

Back down the windy road, we stopped for a late lunch at the Shrimp Station, which was decorated for the holidays. Madelyn loves shrimp and was totally enchanted by the shrimp on a sleigh in front. Bryan and Madelyn also managed to polish off some shrimp platters, while I cursed the windy road that left me nauseous and totally unhungry. I was sad to miss out on one of my favorite eating experiences that I was excited to return to, but I could not force any shrimp into my upset belly.

I was too much of a wimp… for shrimp. Womp womp.

We drove back to the hotel and I spent the rest of the late afternoon and evening curled up in a ball, stewing over how mad I was for feeling sick on vacation. We called it an early night and I felt so much better the next day. We relaxed at the pool again and then got dolled up in repeat outfits for our Hula night back at the Hyatt.

Dinner at Puka Dog was quick, but delicious. Kauai travelers will enjoy visiting this simple hot dog shop that’s anything but boring. The dog is wrapped in a cylinder sweet roll and there’s a variety of tropical relishes to use instead of the usuals. This is no ballpark hot dog. And as a picky hot dog eater who has the audacity to hate all condiments except for ketchup, even I like the relishes!

We arrived at the Hyatt for our Hula lesson and we learned a dance and a song. It was super fun and I appreciated learning about storytelling with my hands. Madelyn did a great job following along when she wasn’t being harassed by another little girl who had no interest in watching the teacher and only wanted to play with Madelyn. Poor Madelyn was so torn, loving the attention from a new friend, but also really wanting to Hula dance. She did the best she could and we ended up having a good time before heading down to the lounge to watch the children from a local Hula school perform for hotel guests. Madelyn ate it up. She loved watching little girls not much older than her shake their hips and use beautiful props to dance.

At the end of the night, we enjoyed a family walk and a cuddle on a hammock under the stars. It was a perfect evening and a wonderful memory.

On our second to last day, we took one more drive north to check out some other beaches with a shave ice stop on the way because shave ice. We enjoyed the beach at Princeville and then found ourselves at Lumahai Beach which is one of our favorites. It’s rarely crowded, easy to get to once you know it’s there, and the waves are fun! They are also huge and I’ve never seen anything like them. On our honeymoon, we went there and I wore a bikini (a bik-what???) and the waves at Lumahai left me without a bikini. So, there’s that. Needless to say, Madelyn took one look at those waves and ran away back toward the car. We promised her she didn’t have to go in, but Bryan enjoyed some thrashing around in the water while we watched.

There’s also a really cool river alongside the bottom of a cliff that feeds into the ocean. It’s super calm and like a wading pool. Madelyn much preferred that atmosphere. She chased floating banana leaves and splashed in the water.

We ended up eating dinner in Hanalei that was just mediocre. We didn’t feel satisfied after, so we did what any hungry people do after they’ve eaten a proper restaurant meal: we got burgers at Bubba’s. Shameless. Who says dessert has to be sweet??

At the end of the night, my depression sunk in that our trip was ending and we’d rest our heads on the pillows of our hotel only one last time. Madelyn loves hotel life. She thinks the little bottles of toiletries are a blast and being roomies with mom and dad couldn’t be cooler. We taught her about hotel etiquette and that we have to be quiet in the hallways since people might be sleeping. We told her this once. From then on, eery time we walked down the hall, she put her finger to her lips and whispered “Ssssss!” (she can’t say her “sh” blend). One morning, a horrible man was talking so loudly on his phone and we could hear him through the door. Good thing I was already awake or I would’ve ripped his ear off with the phone. Madelyn shook her head in disapproval and scolded him from inside our room. Already, such a savvy traveler.

She slept in a sofa bed for a week and did great. Better than great. In fact, every morning, she did something new that she’s never done at home. She would get out of bed when she woke up (sometimes before us), tip toe to the bathroom, pee, come back, and go back to sleep or get dressed and read her books while letting us snooze. She also woke up dry every morning even though she wears Pull-Ups to sleep and essentially nighttime potty trained herself on this trip. What?! I never imagined vacationing with a three-year-old would actually be a vacation for all of us.

The fastest week was also the best week we’ve had as a family. We had the best time showing Madelyn what we love about one of our favorite places and we loved watching her take it all in. Even a month later, back at home and back at the old routine, Madelyn consistently tells us she loves Hawaii and misses it.

But in typical Madelyn fashion, instead of harping on the vacation she had, she looks toward the future and always says, “Let’s go to Hawaii again, but with Baby Sister when she gets here.”

Sign me up, Big Sis!