Well here we are in Alabama, been here for about a month, although the kids and I had to go back to NC for a couple of weeks because I'm continuing a few jobs up there. Here are the things I love so far:
1. Being in our own home again. The weight of living at home was a heavy burden for me, although I tried to make light of it. It was a great blessing for us to be able to live with my parents for awhile, but it was less than ideal.
2. Small town. Little traffic, kind neighbors and people, sense of community, no large crowds for big events, like the local fireworks show on the fourth that was extremely manageable.
3. Local rec center. Jane was very excited about this, and I am too. A splash pad, indoor and outdoor pools, playground, gym, and other facilities for our use.
4. Small branch. We don't know yet if we will love this or not, but I am open to the idea of it. A small branch of church members can be a blessing.
5. The people. We've already met some great people here. Neighbors and church friends included!
6. Jeff loves his job. It's just what he was hoping to find.
Things that we will have to get used to:
1. Limited amount of stores. Might have to take most of my shopping online, which I've never been crazy about.
2. Limited amount of things to do. I will have to get creative with the kids in order to keep them busy. No more Discovery Place Kids, preschool, botanical gardens, Patterson farms or 10 playgrounds to choose from.
3. Heat and humidity. Yeah, we foolishly thought that North Carolina was hot and humid.
4. Me not working, or working in different ways.
We decided to buy a house here instead of rent, because of it's being a college town and the rent rates being extremely high for the amount of house. We figured we'd basically save about $400/month by buying instead of renting. AND, it gives me the ability to change things out, which, as a designer at heart, is really important for my happiness. We don't have a garage and perhaps that was a mistake but we didn't have a ton of options when we were looking, and we will adjust!
Jane and Evie stayed behind for a week with Nana and Papa, and I was told that Evie really had a hard time with that. It was my first time away from her even for a night. But they made the trip down here happily and seem to be settling in, adjusting to their new house, a new church, new friends, and new pace of life. I know that Jane will have moments where she misses old friends and family, and preschool too. But, I guess we are blessed that she is young and easy to adapt.
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
An Early Baby
It all started on a dark and stormy night... ha ha... not kidding. During the night at 1pm, Jane came in to say she had heard a noise. Turns out a huge tree had fallen in our driveway during the night, and that's probably what she had heard. There was no rain the previous day, just lots of high winds. Later, Steph would point out that the low pressure probably brought on labor.
I started feeling pain in the wee hours of the morning, February 25th. I was thinking in my sleepy way that perhaps my uterus was about to rupture (doctors warn of this to repeat c-section moms), because the pain was acute and my due date wasn't for another month. But by 5am, the pain was coming in predictable waves, and I was sufficiently awake to recognize that these were contractions. Phew. I waited until 6:30 am to text my doctor, fortunately she is a family friend and I didn't have too much of a hang up on contacting her at that hour, I might have waited longer if I was supposed to contact the hospital directly. She said to come into the hospital. I was a bit surprised, but she assured me that it was probably nothing serious but at only 35 weeks, it was best to be safe. I woke up Jeff at that point and informed him we were going to the hospital. I didn't grab anything but my shoes...I didn't have a bag packed anyhow... and I was so confident that these were just temporary, they'd monitor me and send me home. I went downstairs and told my mom that we were going to the hospital and got kind of frustrated that she was panicking. As soon as I said the word, 'hospital' she was jumping out of bed, 'Are you in labor?' 'Can Jeff stay home?' etc etc. I just told her it was nothing to worry about, they just wanted to monitor me for a bit.
On the way I became more worried as the pain got worse. Jeff was supposed to be leaving for the airport at 9 am that morning for a job interview in another state, and I did NOT want him to miss it. He hadn't even packed yet. Since the hospital was close to an hour away, I knew he'd only have time to drop me off. I texted a friend who lives somewhat on the way to stand in with Jeff for a priesthood blessing. It was a simple blessing, as Jeff's usually are. Although I asked for him to bless that the baby would not come today, he simply said that I would be safe and the baby would be safe and that the Lord knows me and what is best for me. At that point my friend Stephanie offered to take me to the hospital instead of Jeff, so that he could make it to the airport in time. She fully expected a baby, so she was excited at the prospect, and I was just thinking she could take me, they'd check me out, and then I'd have a ride home, that way Jeff could get off on the airplane and mom could stay with the girls that way. I reassured him that I was fine, I'd had two babies before this one, and I would be in good hands with the doctors and nurses whether he was there for the birth or not. It was more important to me at that moment to get him off to that interview.
At the hospital, they monitored my contractions and asked all their questions. My cell phone died and Steph started communicating with my family for me. The nurses stuck me three times before getting the iv in right. I saw my doctor, Holly, briefly; but she was going off her shift. She teasingly chided me for starting labor early. I was dilated to a 3. She expressed that neither she nor the other doctor wanted to see the baby come this early. 35 weeks is not horrible, but not ideal. There is a lot of benefit to be had the last four weeks of pregnancy, and not just weight. She expressed that the main concern with a 35 week baby are whether the lungs are fully developed or not, he may need assistance with oxygen and extra hospital time. He will have more difficulty with breastfeeding coordination. He may have jaundice. Difficulty staying warm because no body fat.
One of the nurses came out and said that I was having a c-section. Upon moving me to a labor room, the nurse had written in bubbly writing under 'Daily Goals': "Bake baby longer! :)" But it appears that the first nurse was mistaken; they weren't eager to move forward with a c-section right away. I called my friend Claire to cancel my baby shower, scheduled for that evening, and to ask if she'd take care of my girls for a few hours while my mom taught a class at the Green School. I was almost laughing on the phone with the irony of it all, happening the day of my shower, the exact day Jeff left town, it just seemed funny. After giving me some pills to slow labor, it looked like the contractions were slowing and I definitely wasn't in as much pain. The iv for fluids was making me have to pee a lot, which was annoying because it was painful to get up and move around, but also, they didn't want me moving around much to help stop the contractions. At this point, I was waiting until 2pm, when they would re-evaluate. At first I wasn't in much pain, just watched tv and slept, Steph in the room with me watching her own shows. I thought for sure it was over and I'd be sent home. They gave me more pills to slow labor, but I wasn't feeling them as much, just dull pain. Apparently I was on some pain killer medication too. At 2 pm, the doctor came in and said she wanted to wait 3 more hours and re-evaluate again, that I was in a holding pattern (I hadn't stopped contractions but they still didn't want to assume delivery). She told me I'd likely stay the night because they didn't want to send me so far home. Steph left at my insistence, and I waited til 5 on my own, with the pain getting worse, contractions picking up again. The worst part of the day was just not knowing whether or not I was going to have the baby. Holly came back and the two doctors decided to go ahead and deliver, since I was in a lot of pain, still having contractions, and dilated to a 4 despite 3 or 4 rounds of pills to halt contractions. Plus I was so far from home. I was relieved to hear this, scared for baby but knowing I could not keep up this level of pain through the night. But, since I had eaten at 3 pm (I had begged to eat, not having eaten since the evening before), I now had to wait until 9 pm for surgery. I was not in excruciating pain, but pain enough that I didn't want to wait 4 hours. Mercifully, the anesthesiologist arrived around 6 pm and asked if he could go ahead and start the epidural early, then just pump up the volume of drugs later on before surgery. Yes please! So 6pm- surgery was fairly pain free, plus I didn't have to move to the bathroom anymore, with a catheter. I wanted to sleep, but couldn't. I was too worried about having a pre-term baby. I wanted him to arrive healthy more than anything. Despite all the cautions, I knew that 35 weeks was at least safe for survival, they would just be disadvantages, nothing life-threatening. I thought when I met him, Charlie would be thin and tiny. I didn't know what to expect after that. I asked for my family to say a prayer for us, but only thought of it right before surgery.
Mom arrived around 7 pm I think, having left the girls at home with a friend who would put them to bed. I sent her to buy a memory card, she would wear the daddy's attire and be in the delivery room with me, so she was also responsible for all photos and video. We went back and I was very calm. I knew what to expect, and tonight I had two doctors who would operate, since one doctor was the one on call, and the other was Holly, who I learned had come in even though she wasn't assigned to work that night. It was so nice to have her consistent reassuring presence. It was right around 9 pm when I was rolled in for surgery and they moved me to the table. The anesthesiologist was a good man, kept our thoughts lightly engaged by telling me how many layers they'd gone through, talking about other things in a light engaging way, but not funny (a good thing, I shouldn't be made to laugh in that condition, I can't imagine what would happen if I did!) My nose itched like crazy because of the oxygen tube. Mom wanted to watch the surgery but was told to sit until they had cut me open and baby was ready to come out, but at that point she watched with obvious interest and not a bit of disgust. Jeff was always too queasy to even see the bloody baby after delivery. I didn't see anything but the bloody water of some kind of vacuum container located right above my head. My hands and arms shook uncontrollably. I felt the familiar pressure of the baby being lifted out, it took more pressure to get him than it did for the girls, maybe because he was smaller? But when I saw a glimpse of him, he didn't look so tiny and thin as I expected. He looked like a normal baby! He cried a bit but not much. He tolerated the nurses working around him, checking his breathing, his oxygen levels, his apgar testing, etc. I cried a tiny bit but not for long. Mostly from relief I think. The nurse held him up for me to see eventually, but didn't bring him over, as had been done with my previous babies. My best view of him came from the review screen on my camera, which mom brought over for me to see. It seemed like it took forever, but they finally got him to me for a few precious moments of skin to skin in the recovery room before taking him away again. I was still shaking uncontrollably and at least one nurse said out loud her concern for my holding him. I hated hearing it. My body began to itch because of the anesthesia. In my final room, they bundled him up and put him in the bassinet, they had to do some other things before letting him nurse.
After this, everything is fuzzy in my mind. I should remember my first moments with my baby but I honestly don't. I do remember I couldn't nurse him very well, or rather, he couldn't nurse me. He had a bottle. I can't remember if I went straight to sleep or stayed awake, but I was tired. I insisted on the things being taken off my legs that were supposed to regulate blood clots, but they itched unbearably at first, preventing me from sleep. I prattled away at a conversation my mom was trying to keep up, but I could hear myself losing control of my answers. She told me I sounded drunk. I remember the rest of that night, being so weak and tired, trying to feed him but not feeling like he got anything, he wasn't latching very well; vaguely remembering my mom in the room holding him at night and me trying to sleep through any crying and feeling guilty that I was letting mom do it, but unable to rouse myself enough to do any more. I've had the feeling before and I was definitely still feeling the effects of the drugs and painkillers, which were making my body even more exhausted. It could also have been loss of blood. Nurses came in and out a lot that night but beats me what for. Mom left at 3 am (I think?). There was no bed or comfy chair in the room and she had to be home before 7 am so Erik could go home, and she also had to take Jane to the doctor in the morning so I knew she wouldn't get much rest. I don't even remember how I handled the rest of that night but I did appreciate my nurse that night; she was in and out a lot, so I think she pretty much handled me, telling me when to feed, then putting baby away when done, changed all his diapers, etc. I think he even had his first bath that night.
So there you go. Steph had me laughing at all of the unfortunates of the day; a storm and tree in the driveway, it being the exact day that Jeff was leaving town, and the day of my shower, the poking at blood veins that couldn't go smoothly, my phone battery dying before we'd even started, the mere fact that I was in labor when this time around I was supposed to have a 'golden ticket' meaning no labor, just surgery this time. But all in all, we came out ok. Charlie is healthy and that's the most important outcome. Jeff eventually got to see him on Saturday morning, a day and a half later. Friends stepped up to care for my girls since mom did some filling in for Jeff. She had the opportunity to be in the labor room, which wouldn't have happened with my choice. So all's well that ends well.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
A Prayer is a Song
For Jane, this is literal. Every night for at least several months, on the days that she actually agrees to pray (because often she refuses), whether over dinner or at bedtime, she insists on singing her prayer. I need to record this somehow, but tonight's prayer song was; "Heavenly Father, while I sleep, please make sure nothing gets me. I don't like being away from my family. I don't like being alone." All sung in the sweetest little girl voice you can imagine without panic in her face or voice, but almost like she's singing about sunshine and daisies. I mean, when I read that over, I'm thinking I should be concerned, and shouldn't have left my scared little girl alone in her bedroom, but honestly, after the prayer song, she gives me a tight hug and a kiss, pulls up her (one! she only wants one!) blanket and rolls over to cuddle with her baby Jane doll. "Night, Jane, I love you." I say. "Night, mom, I love you too" she replies. Oh these moments are the ones I'll miss one day.
Not every moment qualifies. This is, of course, not the normal bedtime occurrence. I don't know if I can put a finger on normal, because every night varies, but last night she had had a long day. She was misbehaving in some way at bedtime, and I told her that she needed to listen or she would go to bed without stories. And then the count to three. I made it to three without a budge from her, so she started running, daddy had to chase her down and pick her up, carry her kicking and screaming up the stairs, she's screaming, "I want stories! I want stories! and crying so loud. I felt bad for Jeff, but it was his turn so I didn't feel that bad. But I did think he might lose his temper. I would have. But you know, Jeff rarely loses his temper. I've seen it happen with the girls maybe precisely twice and both times well warranted. Anyway, I probably would have yelled back or spanked her bottom, but Jeff managed to subdue the crying and get her off to her own bed before she fell asleep without a prayer song or a kiss.
So after my success (or rather, Jane's success) tonight, I stuck my head into the room where Jeff was and simply said; "I win." ;)
I don't pray with Evie at bedtime (she goes down earlier than Jane), but I do sing her some songs, usually "I am a Child of God", "I See the Moon", "Silly Lullaby", "Brahm's Lullaby", but also sometimes I'll throw in something different, like "All the Pretty Little Horses", "Lullaloo", "Stay Awake", "Barges", "I Know my Father Lives." I hadn't ever thought about it before, but I guess my singing to her is consistent enough to be like a prayer before bedtime. At least it's something. And it's an incredible time of the day to bond with her. Wake up and bedtimes are I think the most special parts of the day that allow real bonding to occur. I love in the morning when I go in to get her out of the crib. She's usually cooing and making happy noises or banging on the crib somehow. Sometimes Jane is awake too, but Evie is almost always the first awake. I love the happy wiggles and smiles I get when she sees me. "Hello happy girl!" I always greet her, then she bends down to retrieve a binky, a blanket, a stuffed animal, she likes bringing 'something' with her but it's not always the same thing. On some mornings she'll snuggle into my shoulder as I carry her downstairs for her bottle. Jane has even taken to snuggles in the morning recently, if Evie allows it. Jane usually shows up a bit later, heavily stepping down the stairs so I can hear her, and I call out; "Do I hear a Jane girl?" She pokes her messy head around the corner of the stair landing and says; "Here I am!" or, "It's just me, mom!" I love that we can take our time most mornings (except preschool and Sundays). And night time rituals are just fantastic. Bathtime (on a good day), baby lotion massage for Evie (she loves this), pajamas on, storytime (which both Jane and Evie love, I believe they are developing a love for books, yay!), brush teeth, go potty, then song and rocking for Evie, or prayer, kiss, and nightlight for Jane. I truly cherish these times of day when I can communicate with my girls and cuddle and tickle them and express how much I love them.
And I like to think that Heavenly Father cherishes these moments as well, seeing us greet the day with happiness and ending each one with a prayer song and an "I love you."
Not every moment qualifies. This is, of course, not the normal bedtime occurrence. I don't know if I can put a finger on normal, because every night varies, but last night she had had a long day. She was misbehaving in some way at bedtime, and I told her that she needed to listen or she would go to bed without stories. And then the count to three. I made it to three without a budge from her, so she started running, daddy had to chase her down and pick her up, carry her kicking and screaming up the stairs, she's screaming, "I want stories! I want stories! and crying so loud. I felt bad for Jeff, but it was his turn so I didn't feel that bad. But I did think he might lose his temper. I would have. But you know, Jeff rarely loses his temper. I've seen it happen with the girls maybe precisely twice and both times well warranted. Anyway, I probably would have yelled back or spanked her bottom, but Jeff managed to subdue the crying and get her off to her own bed before she fell asleep without a prayer song or a kiss.
So after my success (or rather, Jane's success) tonight, I stuck my head into the room where Jeff was and simply said; "I win." ;)
I don't pray with Evie at bedtime (she goes down earlier than Jane), but I do sing her some songs, usually "I am a Child of God", "I See the Moon", "Silly Lullaby", "Brahm's Lullaby", but also sometimes I'll throw in something different, like "All the Pretty Little Horses", "Lullaloo", "Stay Awake", "Barges", "I Know my Father Lives." I hadn't ever thought about it before, but I guess my singing to her is consistent enough to be like a prayer before bedtime. At least it's something. And it's an incredible time of the day to bond with her. Wake up and bedtimes are I think the most special parts of the day that allow real bonding to occur. I love in the morning when I go in to get her out of the crib. She's usually cooing and making happy noises or banging on the crib somehow. Sometimes Jane is awake too, but Evie is almost always the first awake. I love the happy wiggles and smiles I get when she sees me. "Hello happy girl!" I always greet her, then she bends down to retrieve a binky, a blanket, a stuffed animal, she likes bringing 'something' with her but it's not always the same thing. On some mornings she'll snuggle into my shoulder as I carry her downstairs for her bottle. Jane has even taken to snuggles in the morning recently, if Evie allows it. Jane usually shows up a bit later, heavily stepping down the stairs so I can hear her, and I call out; "Do I hear a Jane girl?" She pokes her messy head around the corner of the stair landing and says; "Here I am!" or, "It's just me, mom!" I love that we can take our time most mornings (except preschool and Sundays). And night time rituals are just fantastic. Bathtime (on a good day), baby lotion massage for Evie (she loves this), pajamas on, storytime (which both Jane and Evie love, I believe they are developing a love for books, yay!), brush teeth, go potty, then song and rocking for Evie, or prayer, kiss, and nightlight for Jane. I truly cherish these times of day when I can communicate with my girls and cuddle and tickle them and express how much I love them.
And I like to think that Heavenly Father cherishes these moments as well, seeing us greet the day with happiness and ending each one with a prayer song and an "I love you."
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Pregnancy Belly
I realize not everyone, and probably not anyone, wants to hear my thoughts on pregnancy bellies but if you were anything like a pregnant woman, you would be thinking about this at least a couple of times per day. So either go ahead, or skip it!
I am at that awkward stage of pregnancy where my belly either looks like I'm (maybe?) pregnant, or I just have a fat belly. To be honest, it's probably a combination of both. But you know, it's before your pants don't fit, but after you have to start wearing drape-y shirts to hide the awkward little bump and it's not really working anymore.
As a person who is generally comfortable in her own skin, I find the sudden obsession with how big my belly looks a bit disconcerting. Why do I have to suddenly change five times in the morning before I am happy with how I look? I want my belly to get bigger so that I look pregnant instead of fat, but I also don't want this to happen too soon and look like I'm more pregnant than I really am. I really would prefer to just stay skinny and then bam! Around month 7 or 8 look pregnant with the big (but not too big) belly. You know, just a cute little 'basketball' belly as we all have heard it called, which is so rare but so coveted.
So why do I care now when I don't generally care at other times? I think maybe pregnancy puts my feminine hormones into overdrive, and women tend to obsess about weight in general, so maybe I'm more womanly now. But I think it's a problem of mixed messages that women constantly get when pregnant: From the doctor, don't gain more than 20-25 pounds max (most of those at the end term). From peers: It's ok to gain more than that, you're growing a baby! From the radio (heard it a few days ago: Isn't such and such celebrity just the cutest little pregnant lady? From husband: You aren't fat honey, you are large with child... which is so sweetly meant, but translation to a woman: You have a reason to be FAT. From health experts: Eat a, b, and c in plenty, but avoid d, e, and f unless you want your baby to be born sick. Geez, with all this talk, of course women obsess when pregnant, probably more so than any other time. Or is it just me?
The only reason I write my thoughts now, is because I'm supposed to be blogging for our family personal history, and I think I'd like my girls to one day realize that even though I will try to teach them to have a positive body image and self love, that we all have down days, especially us ladies. For me, those days are pregnancy, and definitely, more acutely, post-pregnancy in the weeks and months that you have a much saggier softer middle, where basically it feels like your newborn can snuggle down into a blob of smooshy warm dough for a nice nap. And even though I know it's wrong, I eat ice cream almost every day right now, for some unquenchable reason (although interestingly, although I usually love Oreos, I pretty much can't stand them right now). I also try to make sure I'm eating all the right things throughout the rest of the day for good nutrition so I can cheat every single day. Yeah, I know no one advises that. But hey.
Maybe I should post a pregnant selfie of my belly right now. Um, maybe not. That's for the 'cute little pregnant ladies' with basketball bellies! But, in the interest of posterity's curiosity, I do have two photos hidden away somewhere on a hard drive of my belly on the night before Jane was born, and a few days before Evie came, at my hugest. Which is more enormous, the belly or the responsibility to keep a record? :) The second, obviously (to me), which must be huge.
I am at that awkward stage of pregnancy where my belly either looks like I'm (maybe?) pregnant, or I just have a fat belly. To be honest, it's probably a combination of both. But you know, it's before your pants don't fit, but after you have to start wearing drape-y shirts to hide the awkward little bump and it's not really working anymore.
As a person who is generally comfortable in her own skin, I find the sudden obsession with how big my belly looks a bit disconcerting. Why do I have to suddenly change five times in the morning before I am happy with how I look? I want my belly to get bigger so that I look pregnant instead of fat, but I also don't want this to happen too soon and look like I'm more pregnant than I really am. I really would prefer to just stay skinny and then bam! Around month 7 or 8 look pregnant with the big (but not too big) belly. You know, just a cute little 'basketball' belly as we all have heard it called, which is so rare but so coveted.
So why do I care now when I don't generally care at other times? I think maybe pregnancy puts my feminine hormones into overdrive, and women tend to obsess about weight in general, so maybe I'm more womanly now. But I think it's a problem of mixed messages that women constantly get when pregnant: From the doctor, don't gain more than 20-25 pounds max (most of those at the end term). From peers: It's ok to gain more than that, you're growing a baby! From the radio (heard it a few days ago: Isn't such and such celebrity just the cutest little pregnant lady? From husband: You aren't fat honey, you are large with child... which is so sweetly meant, but translation to a woman: You have a reason to be FAT. From health experts: Eat a, b, and c in plenty, but avoid d, e, and f unless you want your baby to be born sick. Geez, with all this talk, of course women obsess when pregnant, probably more so than any other time. Or is it just me?
The only reason I write my thoughts now, is because I'm supposed to be blogging for our family personal history, and I think I'd like my girls to one day realize that even though I will try to teach them to have a positive body image and self love, that we all have down days, especially us ladies. For me, those days are pregnancy, and definitely, more acutely, post-pregnancy in the weeks and months that you have a much saggier softer middle, where basically it feels like your newborn can snuggle down into a blob of smooshy warm dough for a nice nap. And even though I know it's wrong, I eat ice cream almost every day right now, for some unquenchable reason (although interestingly, although I usually love Oreos, I pretty much can't stand them right now). I also try to make sure I'm eating all the right things throughout the rest of the day for good nutrition so I can cheat every single day. Yeah, I know no one advises that. But hey.
Maybe I should post a pregnant selfie of my belly right now. Um, maybe not. That's for the 'cute little pregnant ladies' with basketball bellies! But, in the interest of posterity's curiosity, I do have two photos hidden away somewhere on a hard drive of my belly on the night before Jane was born, and a few days before Evie came, at my hugest. Which is more enormous, the belly or the responsibility to keep a record? :) The second, obviously (to me), which must be huge.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Baby (and other) Developments
It's past time for a family status update! I'd like to keep up better with journaling our daily lives, but we may all have to be content with quarterlies.
Our current baby, little Evie, can probably no longer be called that. She turned one on October 2nd. She's been walking since 10-1/2 months, before that too, but not consistently. Now, at almost 13 months, its all she does, the crawling has disappeared. It's sometimes odd for me to look at such a tiny little human toddling around on two feet. She's such a petite little thing, I love her bow-legged walk and her protruding little belly with her innie/outie. Her fingers and toes are long but chubby and so delicate. Her neck is somewhere under that chin but you can't really see it. I have trouble keeping her neck folds clean. I remember that Jane had the same problem. She's got a wonderful smile, now with three teeth poking out, the two bottom ones and a lateral incisor on her left side, with the right side one having just broke through (yes, I had to look up the correct term, I was going to call it a cuspid or a 'fang'). Maybe in time for Halloween this week we'll see more of the second lateral incisor:) Evie has always had fine, thin hair, but lately, with the length, we can see that her hair is in fact not straight, but has a bit of wave or curl to it. I'm crossing my fingers that it stays wavy if not curly. I've always thought that girls with curly hair were so adorable, especially toddlers. The hair above her forehead is still slow to come in though. We may have a mullet problem on our hands soon. My favorite feature of Evie's are her dark, strange colored eyes. They are almond shaped and seem to be soulful, intelligent eyes. I don't know how to describe it, Jane's eyes were always bright and sparkling with fun, and beautiful because of their color, but Evie's just seem mysterious and deep. The color is difficult for me to pinpoint, the closest I can say is gray, but that sounds dull. Some days they look dark blue, sometimes they have a hint of green or brown, other days, maybe just a dark, slate gray. I'm not sure what age babies settle into a final eye color, but lets just say that if they stay this way, she might have difficulty choosing a color at the DMV's office in future. We love our Baby Boo, that's what I've taken to calling her the most. Sometimes Boo Boo or Stinka-boo. I also call her Goosa-Goose, while Jane is Silly Goose when they are being silly. Occasionally, she'll still get called Little Peanut. Her personality is still a bit clingy, preferable to mommy, she loves to be held and snuggled, loves interactive games like Peeka Boo and Little Piggies. She loves playing chase with Jane. She dances all the time.... even to my bad singing and no backup. She's much girlier than Jane was, already loving to carry around purses, put on necklaces, headbands, dress up in her duck towel, more so than Jane did or ever has. She'll pull the baby lotion out for me to put on her after baths, while Jane always wriggled away. She is STILL swaddled to sleep at night. Loves stories being read, or rather, turning pages or lifting flaps, but she definitely has her favorite books. Her favorites recently have been, That's Not my Dragon!, Roar, Baby, Roar!, and Bedtime Kiss for Little Fish. She's a huge food waster. So much food ends up on the floor or in her seat. Like, more than half. I don't know if this is because she is messier, or if it's because she's our second so we gave her a little more freedom too soon. She doesn't talk yet, only uses sounds, but I always seem to know what she wants. Its hard to explain but mommas' know their babies and what they need by so many cues.
In other baby news, we found out on August 1st that we are pregnant! I had maybe one cycle before getting pregnant again, so I was a little surprised. This means, with a March 21st due date, that Evie and the new baby will be a little less than 18 months apart. Which scares me silly. I mean, at least with a three year age gap, I was able to direct Jane to do things and she was pretty self-sufficient at that point. Potty-trained, able to play on her own, have patience and understand how to wait a minute for help. Often, I'd stick her in front of the tv for a show while I took naps with Evie and she did great with this, not getting into things. Anyway, along with the excitement of adding to our family, we are unsure what this will do to us financially. We've been living at home, with me not working much, attempting to pay off some debts, some of which were accumulated for medical bills for Evie. So, the new baby will bring new medical costs. I wish Jeff had a job that would cover good insurance, but I suppose by the time that ever happens, we will be done with kids. I wish that having a baby didn't have to cost thousands of dollars. I do have to have a c-section again, for every child from now on, so that doesn't help costs. Anyway, we hope that it will work out and that one day we will be able to move out on our own again. Right now, it just seems like everything is up in the air and in question. Although I continue to work a little, I don't have as much time as I used to, and that will get even less as I have a third, especially two babies so young. I used to think I wanted to hang onto the business no matter what, and teach my girls how to work in a business when they were older, and earn some extra money. I probably still need to, and still will. What makes me stop and think, is that if I didn't work, the government would pay for Medicare. Its a shame that the government almost encourages people to not work, with incentives like Medicare and food stamps. There is a place for these things, especially seniors who no longer have the ability to work, but I wish that at least healthcare could be somehow pro-rated so that everyone pays based on their income levels, rather than having a set cut-off amount. Wish taxes were done that way. Everyone should pay, but people with more can pay more... but as it is, if you are self-employed you pay a higher rate. If you happen to make $50k instead of $45k (or whatever the cutoff is), you pay taxes but the other person doesn't. Anyway, don't mean to get all political here. My ultimate point is, that finances are so tough to understand and figure out, especially with a baby on the way. We don't know what to anticipate. We just hope that we can move into a place of our own once the baby comes.
We found out that Erik and Ryn are expecting a little girl in April. So, if we end up having a boy, he will be sadly outnumbered. But if we have a little girl, it could be, in Ryn's words, all Little Women around here. It is fun to think about, that the girls (and new baby) will have a cousin nearby. I grew up without any cousins near us, and I envy those families that all stick together and are able to have huge gatherings at every holiday of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. It comes with a price, too, but family is a group of people you can always count on, they will be there because they have to be. If you have a falling out, it's not forever. (at least I hope not!)
Our current baby, little Evie, can probably no longer be called that. She turned one on October 2nd. She's been walking since 10-1/2 months, before that too, but not consistently. Now, at almost 13 months, its all she does, the crawling has disappeared. It's sometimes odd for me to look at such a tiny little human toddling around on two feet. She's such a petite little thing, I love her bow-legged walk and her protruding little belly with her innie/outie. Her fingers and toes are long but chubby and so delicate. Her neck is somewhere under that chin but you can't really see it. I have trouble keeping her neck folds clean. I remember that Jane had the same problem. She's got a wonderful smile, now with three teeth poking out, the two bottom ones and a lateral incisor on her left side, with the right side one having just broke through (yes, I had to look up the correct term, I was going to call it a cuspid or a 'fang'). Maybe in time for Halloween this week we'll see more of the second lateral incisor:) Evie has always had fine, thin hair, but lately, with the length, we can see that her hair is in fact not straight, but has a bit of wave or curl to it. I'm crossing my fingers that it stays wavy if not curly. I've always thought that girls with curly hair were so adorable, especially toddlers. The hair above her forehead is still slow to come in though. We may have a mullet problem on our hands soon. My favorite feature of Evie's are her dark, strange colored eyes. They are almond shaped and seem to be soulful, intelligent eyes. I don't know how to describe it, Jane's eyes were always bright and sparkling with fun, and beautiful because of their color, but Evie's just seem mysterious and deep. The color is difficult for me to pinpoint, the closest I can say is gray, but that sounds dull. Some days they look dark blue, sometimes they have a hint of green or brown, other days, maybe just a dark, slate gray. I'm not sure what age babies settle into a final eye color, but lets just say that if they stay this way, she might have difficulty choosing a color at the DMV's office in future. We love our Baby Boo, that's what I've taken to calling her the most. Sometimes Boo Boo or Stinka-boo. I also call her Goosa-Goose, while Jane is Silly Goose when they are being silly. Occasionally, she'll still get called Little Peanut. Her personality is still a bit clingy, preferable to mommy, she loves to be held and snuggled, loves interactive games like Peeka Boo and Little Piggies. She loves playing chase with Jane. She dances all the time.... even to my bad singing and no backup. She's much girlier than Jane was, already loving to carry around purses, put on necklaces, headbands, dress up in her duck towel, more so than Jane did or ever has. She'll pull the baby lotion out for me to put on her after baths, while Jane always wriggled away. She is STILL swaddled to sleep at night. Loves stories being read, or rather, turning pages or lifting flaps, but she definitely has her favorite books. Her favorites recently have been, That's Not my Dragon!, Roar, Baby, Roar!, and Bedtime Kiss for Little Fish. She's a huge food waster. So much food ends up on the floor or in her seat. Like, more than half. I don't know if this is because she is messier, or if it's because she's our second so we gave her a little more freedom too soon. She doesn't talk yet, only uses sounds, but I always seem to know what she wants. Its hard to explain but mommas' know their babies and what they need by so many cues.
In other baby news, we found out on August 1st that we are pregnant! I had maybe one cycle before getting pregnant again, so I was a little surprised. This means, with a March 21st due date, that Evie and the new baby will be a little less than 18 months apart. Which scares me silly. I mean, at least with a three year age gap, I was able to direct Jane to do things and she was pretty self-sufficient at that point. Potty-trained, able to play on her own, have patience and understand how to wait a minute for help. Often, I'd stick her in front of the tv for a show while I took naps with Evie and she did great with this, not getting into things. Anyway, along with the excitement of adding to our family, we are unsure what this will do to us financially. We've been living at home, with me not working much, attempting to pay off some debts, some of which were accumulated for medical bills for Evie. So, the new baby will bring new medical costs. I wish Jeff had a job that would cover good insurance, but I suppose by the time that ever happens, we will be done with kids. I wish that having a baby didn't have to cost thousands of dollars. I do have to have a c-section again, for every child from now on, so that doesn't help costs. Anyway, we hope that it will work out and that one day we will be able to move out on our own again. Right now, it just seems like everything is up in the air and in question. Although I continue to work a little, I don't have as much time as I used to, and that will get even less as I have a third, especially two babies so young. I used to think I wanted to hang onto the business no matter what, and teach my girls how to work in a business when they were older, and earn some extra money. I probably still need to, and still will. What makes me stop and think, is that if I didn't work, the government would pay for Medicare. Its a shame that the government almost encourages people to not work, with incentives like Medicare and food stamps. There is a place for these things, especially seniors who no longer have the ability to work, but I wish that at least healthcare could be somehow pro-rated so that everyone pays based on their income levels, rather than having a set cut-off amount. Wish taxes were done that way. Everyone should pay, but people with more can pay more... but as it is, if you are self-employed you pay a higher rate. If you happen to make $50k instead of $45k (or whatever the cutoff is), you pay taxes but the other person doesn't. Anyway, don't mean to get all political here. My ultimate point is, that finances are so tough to understand and figure out, especially with a baby on the way. We don't know what to anticipate. We just hope that we can move into a place of our own once the baby comes.
We found out that Erik and Ryn are expecting a little girl in April. So, if we end up having a boy, he will be sadly outnumbered. But if we have a little girl, it could be, in Ryn's words, all Little Women around here. It is fun to think about, that the girls (and new baby) will have a cousin nearby. I grew up without any cousins near us, and I envy those families that all stick together and are able to have huge gatherings at every holiday of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. It comes with a price, too, but family is a group of people you can always count on, they will be there because they have to be. If you have a falling out, it's not forever. (at least I hope not!)
Finally, an update on our Jane. I definitely do not love one child over the other one, they are both unique and wonderful girls and each has their own special spirit and their own place in my heart. This is my disclaimer for what I'm about to write. Jane is my first child, and as the first, she allows me to have joy in the new things she does (I've never experienced a child doing or saying the adorable things she does or learns!), but at the same time, that means she takes up most of my patience, since I don't have a big picture ahead of where her development should be, etc. Jane and I, we have a special relationship because we are figuring out this whole parent/child relationship together at the same time. I love her joy for life, for doing things she enjoys (but nothing she doesn't!). She likes to be in charge, which is great in some circumstances, like when she befriends complete strangers or helps a sad child feel included, but at other times it is maddening that she thinks she needs her own way. This most often manifests itself while playing with her little sister, and I don't know if I should resign myself to it as normal, or continue to remind her to share, its not YOUR toy, etc, etc and hope she learns. I do want them to get along as they get older, and I'm afraid if I interfere too much, that Jane could resent her little sister, and Evie could learn to play victim. That was definitely the scenario that played out with two of my younger brothers. Jane goes to preschool, a parent co-op one day a week, and two other days with Nana. How lucky we are to have a Nana with her own preschool, and not just a preschool, and outdoorsy experience! She loves the days she can just dig in the sand, have a campfire, play with worms. Not many kids get this kind of experience on a consistent basis. Jane loves play dates, to be around other children. Her main source of joy is social... to interact with others, and to be in charge of others. She even likes to be in charge of adults and children much older than her. She loves to be outside, taking walks to the 'beach', going to the park, just playing in the front or back yard. Today when we asked her to come in for dinner, she responded; "In a minute, I'm singing to the flowers." That's a typical sweet Jane response. Recently, we went in the backyard and she wanted to climb on Nana and Papa's old playhouse, but the ladder is too difficult for her to climb. So me, with my Type 1 personality (full of new ideas but don't always follow through) immediately scoured Craigslist for some free wood to finish out the playhouse for the little girls. I figure its a good thing to do, since after we move, they will still have grandkids visit. Jane is thrilled over the idea. We love her and continue to learn from her and with her. I'm hoping she teaches me enough patience for the children to come to benefit.
On a side note, Jeff and I have been married for over ten years now. We went out to dinner to celebrate. A fancy trip will have to wait for another year. This particular year has been a hard one, I don't think its due to the amount of time, but to having two kids, one very small, and not having a home of our own, but we still love each other and are hanging in there! Going for ten more! (years, not kids or homes)
Friday, June 19, 2015
Lavendar Farm 2015
Thanks to my mom, I found out about this little event, put on by a regular vendor at the Davidson Farmer's market. Her lavendar fields were in Salisbury, so we drove out to check them out. The freshly cut lavender smelled so good, and I learned to make a lavender wand, which is so pretty! I want to plant lavender where I live just so I could sit and make lavender wands for all my friends (and myself!) Not only does it smell fantastic, but it has a lot of uses; sleep aid, laundry spray, even cooking! But my other reason for wanting to go was to get some good pictures of the girls. If I was a professional, I would have figured out a way to get the black tarp out of the shots, or photoshopped it out, but I'm not a professional. Still turned out well I think!
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Make a Checklist
I read a fascinating article yesterday. To me, at least, because it helps me to match a solution to a problem I've been having. Today is the first day I have done it and it makes a huge difference!
The article was about a lady who deals with depression in her life. It's not something that she feels will ever go away, but that she has learned to cope with. Every evening she makes a checklist of the things that she needs to do the following day, in order of importance. When she wakes in the morning, she has a routine to follow and a list to refer to, in order to keep her going. By having a list, she feels like she is being productive, even just to see an item crossed off as 'done' gives her satisfaction and keeps her from spending the day wallowing away, accomplishing nothing.
Now I wouldn't say that I am depressed, but I've definitely been in a 'funk' ever since Evie was born. I also went through this with Jane, so I think I may suffer somewhat from postpartum depression, but not severe. If I were to describe my state, I'd say that I feel lazy, helpless, unimportant, uninspired, hopeless. My days are 'wasted' away doing menial things like breastfeeding and watching tv shows, spending time on social media, changing diapers, playing with Jane, doing laundry or cleaning. I realize that I've just described the life of every single stay at home mom. But this is my first time actually doing it. With Jane, I went back to work when she was 4 weeks old. And although I never worked full time, I worked for a few hours a day, for at least a few days a week, and it was enough to keep the feeling of uselessness at bay. Now I don't mean to say that being at home is useless. Of course this is far from my belief, I know that moms at home are the best place they can be, because the ultimate goal is to raise our children up to be good adults, and there is no gift more precious than time with our child who will grow up much too quickly. But honestly, it is easy to forget that, day after day of doing the same old tedious tasks.... cleaning up the floor for the third time, changing another spit up on outfit, taking out the trash, giving another bath, reading yet another story, dealing with another tantrum, waiting for naptime to take a shower or even get dressed let alone do my hair. Even writing it out is tedious.
Work brings satisfaction because I can see (almost) immediate results. I am not a patient woman, I like to see things happen. Raising children is so hard because you don't get to see results right away, and when you do, it is subtle, almost unnoticeable. For example, I have seen the result of potty training. But I still don't feel totally safe, like any day she could regress (again). And it took us months and months to get here. Every day I struggle to get her to eat healthy foods, to clean up after herself, to let me do her hair even, to quit whining, to stop smothering her baby sister. I feel like she's not hearing me and I'm not making an effect, and yet I know deep down that it will eventually. All I can do is repeat myself over and over and over and hope for the day that maybe it will sink in.
"God is in the details." I've always loved this quote because it can apply to so many things. So back to this idea of a checklist. I spend too many days without a plan, then even my long-term goals get set on the back burner, because even those take small steps. Such as, family prayer, so they have faith (we always do nighttime prayers at least!). Dinner together as a family so they have a chance to talk and share with us for great relationships (living with folks this is nearly impossible, just because there isn't even a space for us to all sit together). Making healthy meals, so they grow up strong and have good eating habits (I let this slip most days because I just don't enjoy cooking at all). Teaching them to clean up their messes, and other places too, so they have good work ethic (I end up doing all of this haphazardly because it's just easier, and once again, this is difficult while living with parents). Spending time playing with them so we learn how to have fun together. In order to have success with these things, I must plan them into each and every day.
So, my new plan looks like this so far. Morning: For me, time to work, clean, or run errands. Jane has an activity that doesn't require too much of me and on some days allows me to get things done: Mondays, a playdate. Tuesday, Discovery Place Kids or park. Wednesday: Preschool. Thursday: Dance. Friday: Preschool. She has an hour of quiet time or nap time, from 2-3pm. (which is my chance to work again) I then spend at least one hour of dedicated play time with her, from 3-4 pm. Then from 4-5pm try to do something educational, puzzles, games, art, crafts, etc. 5pm TV time for her, make dinner time for me. 6pm is dinner (NO TV!). 7-8pm is bathtime, clean room, brush teeth, etc etc for bedtime. Jane goes down at 8, Evie around 9. Then I clean up the house, do laundry, etc.
That's a general outline for every day. But I'm still going to write down specific tasks that need to be accomplished each day because that's where I can start crossing things off and feeling better about what I'm doing to keep the depressive attitude at bay. I'm already loving the fact that I crossed a few items off my list today. I didn't have 'blog' on my list, but it will feel good to add it after the fact and cross that off too.
The article was about a lady who deals with depression in her life. It's not something that she feels will ever go away, but that she has learned to cope with. Every evening she makes a checklist of the things that she needs to do the following day, in order of importance. When she wakes in the morning, she has a routine to follow and a list to refer to, in order to keep her going. By having a list, she feels like she is being productive, even just to see an item crossed off as 'done' gives her satisfaction and keeps her from spending the day wallowing away, accomplishing nothing.
Now I wouldn't say that I am depressed, but I've definitely been in a 'funk' ever since Evie was born. I also went through this with Jane, so I think I may suffer somewhat from postpartum depression, but not severe. If I were to describe my state, I'd say that I feel lazy, helpless, unimportant, uninspired, hopeless. My days are 'wasted' away doing menial things like breastfeeding and watching tv shows, spending time on social media, changing diapers, playing with Jane, doing laundry or cleaning. I realize that I've just described the life of every single stay at home mom. But this is my first time actually doing it. With Jane, I went back to work when she was 4 weeks old. And although I never worked full time, I worked for a few hours a day, for at least a few days a week, and it was enough to keep the feeling of uselessness at bay. Now I don't mean to say that being at home is useless. Of course this is far from my belief, I know that moms at home are the best place they can be, because the ultimate goal is to raise our children up to be good adults, and there is no gift more precious than time with our child who will grow up much too quickly. But honestly, it is easy to forget that, day after day of doing the same old tedious tasks.... cleaning up the floor for the third time, changing another spit up on outfit, taking out the trash, giving another bath, reading yet another story, dealing with another tantrum, waiting for naptime to take a shower or even get dressed let alone do my hair. Even writing it out is tedious.
Work brings satisfaction because I can see (almost) immediate results. I am not a patient woman, I like to see things happen. Raising children is so hard because you don't get to see results right away, and when you do, it is subtle, almost unnoticeable. For example, I have seen the result of potty training. But I still don't feel totally safe, like any day she could regress (again). And it took us months and months to get here. Every day I struggle to get her to eat healthy foods, to clean up after herself, to let me do her hair even, to quit whining, to stop smothering her baby sister. I feel like she's not hearing me and I'm not making an effect, and yet I know deep down that it will eventually. All I can do is repeat myself over and over and over and hope for the day that maybe it will sink in.
"God is in the details." I've always loved this quote because it can apply to so many things. So back to this idea of a checklist. I spend too many days without a plan, then even my long-term goals get set on the back burner, because even those take small steps. Such as, family prayer, so they have faith (we always do nighttime prayers at least!). Dinner together as a family so they have a chance to talk and share with us for great relationships (living with folks this is nearly impossible, just because there isn't even a space for us to all sit together). Making healthy meals, so they grow up strong and have good eating habits (I let this slip most days because I just don't enjoy cooking at all). Teaching them to clean up their messes, and other places too, so they have good work ethic (I end up doing all of this haphazardly because it's just easier, and once again, this is difficult while living with parents). Spending time playing with them so we learn how to have fun together. In order to have success with these things, I must plan them into each and every day.
So, my new plan looks like this so far. Morning: For me, time to work, clean, or run errands. Jane has an activity that doesn't require too much of me and on some days allows me to get things done: Mondays, a playdate. Tuesday, Discovery Place Kids or park. Wednesday: Preschool. Thursday: Dance. Friday: Preschool. She has an hour of quiet time or nap time, from 2-3pm. (which is my chance to work again) I then spend at least one hour of dedicated play time with her, from 3-4 pm. Then from 4-5pm try to do something educational, puzzles, games, art, crafts, etc. 5pm TV time for her, make dinner time for me. 6pm is dinner (NO TV!). 7-8pm is bathtime, clean room, brush teeth, etc etc for bedtime. Jane goes down at 8, Evie around 9. Then I clean up the house, do laundry, etc.
That's a general outline for every day. But I'm still going to write down specific tasks that need to be accomplished each day because that's where I can start crossing things off and feeling better about what I'm doing to keep the depressive attitude at bay. I'm already loving the fact that I crossed a few items off my list today. I didn't have 'blog' on my list, but it will feel good to add it after the fact and cross that off too.
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