Footy Pajamas

A Beautiful Desert.

2012-02-08T00:00:00.000-08:00

The day I came home from the hospital, I had an ugly-cry meltdown in the kitchen after about two hours of being there. It was that surging feeling of being overwhelmed--overwhelmed with the thought of taking care of three kids three and under, overwhelmed with stuff that needed to be done around the house, overwhelmed with hormones, overwhelmed with unpacking my hospital bag, overwhelmed with putting one foot in front of the other ... overwhelmed with feeling overwhelmed.

My parents were here and I had no reason to feel overwhelmed. But oh, I did.

That night, we laid Lydia in her pack 'n play and went to bed. Within a matter of minutes I was kneeling next to the pack 'n play, my forehead pressed against the netted side, with tears falling off my cheeks. My husband assured me Lydia was fine, and I needed to go to bed. "NO," I sobbed, "What if she stops breathing?"

Overwhelmed.

These past few weeks have been one big exercise. An exercise in humility, asking for the help I know I need. An exercise in patience--with myself and with my kids. An exercise in rest, since this recovery has been the hardest (back ache, gas cramps, uterine cramping, etc.). It's also been an exercise of faith. With every need, there has been an answer. Meals provided. Babysitters provided (the kids have amazing grandparents and aunts and uncles and psuedo aunts and uncles). Help provided. God's mercies are truly new every morning. And He is patiently loving me as I learn to rely on Him through each day. To believe He is truly guiding my steps, that He truly cares about my tiny corner of the world, as I slowly, but surely, am empowered every day.

I am in a Bible Study entitled, "Walking With God Through the Desert". For as blessed and as beautiful as adding sweet Lydia has been to our family, this time still feels, in a way, like a desert. Unchartered territory that God has gloriously ordained and will faithfully guide me through, with his perfect provision. I don't believe it is random that God has me in this study after the birth of my third. It is perfectly fitting, an ever-present reminder that I am not in this alone.

And oh, the sweet moments are delightfully sweet. Lydia is a precious baby. She nurses well and sleeps well. The kids love her and are becoming more understanding of the time she requires, although they do conveniently want to be held when I am holding her! In the midst of feeling like I am simply enduring some days, there are moments within them that I cherish. I really do. This chaos is a sweet one and though I am challenged right now in a way I have never been challenged before, I am also being blessed like never before. God has called me to this journey, for such a time as this. And has faithfully placed people in my life to help me.

For as many frazzled moments that I have, where my hair is caked in spit-up and the sweatpants I've been wearing for three days straight begin to smell, there are also good days. Days where we make it to the end and I didn't cry once. And those days are increasing. But, you know, even if I have a week straight of spit-up-caked-in-my-hair days, that's okay, too. I'm learning to be easy on myself. If my sweatpants disintegrate from too much wear, so be it. We will make it to the other side, smudged mascara and all.

Thank you, Jesus, for my family. And for refining me through it all.

Have a lovely day.

Jane, Explained.

2012-02-07T05:36:00.000-08:00

I guess I never really explained how we made the middle name transition from "Bourgette" to "Jane" for Lydia! The day before my due date, the middle name discussion came up again and I could tell my husband wasn't totally on board with "Bourgette". We went through a list of family names (AGAIN) and came up short (AGAIN), until I meekly offered "Jane". My sister-in-law's middle name is Jane (Laura Jane) and my niece's middle name is Jane (Nadia Jane). So, it's a family name ... and it also happens to be the middle name of my best friend's littlest one, Delia Jane. My husband liked it immediately and I did, too, but I wanted to check with my friend to make sure that if we used it, she wouldn't think I was being a name creeper or anything.

She assured me I wasn't.

Now that Lydia is here, I adore her name. It fits well with the other kids' names, too: Caleb Scott and Naomi Kate...and Lydia Jane. Love it.

There you have it.

Have a lovely day!

Staying Organized.

2012-02-06T00:00:00.000-08:00

Do you have a cleaning "system" or are you one of those people who stays naturally organized?

My friends would laugh at the thought of me being considered as a naturally organized person, although Motherhood has definitely challenged that area of my life and I have become more so with each child, out of necessity!

Let me first say that toys strewn everywhere is not a sign of a mess. It's a sign that younger kids live here. We pick up our toys when we leave the house or before we sleep (nap time and bed time), if we get around to it (always before bedtime). So, toys can't count as the house being "dirty". Food crusted on an old casserole dish count, but not toys.

I do not have a cleaning system. My take on it is simply priority. Or, a better word: SURVIVAL. Everyone has to be fed. That means that grocery shopping has to happen every Monday, for us. I make a menu Sunday night (for all three meals, every day) and make my shopping list according to where things are in the store. I write out our menu and adhere it to the fridge. I also keep three notepads on our fridge (Grocery Store, Target, To-Do) where I can quickly write down what we need when it comes to my mind. I have to prep the food ahead of time (be it cutting up fruit and storing it in containers for snacks, or making meatballs and such ahead of time for dinners), so Monday afternoons are dedicated to food prep (simple or complex). I know, all of that seems very involved, but being prepared gives me freedom for the rest of the week. So, that takes care of the food part of survival.

Secondly, everyone has to have something to wear. My best way to tackle laundry is to do a load every day. As soon as I get up, I throw a load in the washing machine. Somewhere in the middle of the day, I move it to the dryer. Then it gets folded and put away. I cannot, for the life of me, survive with a Laundry Day. It just piles up too quickly around here! My anxiety reaches new heights when the hamper is overflowing and then I just stand there and do nothing. Keeping it under control is key, for me. And, let's be honest--if it says "Dry Clean Only", it gets tossed to the top shelf of the closet! No time, right now, for that. There: Everyone can survive, fully-clothed.

Then beyond that, it's seeing things that need to be done and doing them as I can. I try to make the beds as soon as we get up. I try to put food in the same place in the pantry every time so it will stay under control. I try to keep dishes out of the sink and keep the dishwasher running. I try, I try. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I do not. But constantly thinking ahead has proven to be the best means for me to keep my sanity!

A great way to accomplish a lot is to practice the "60 Second Rule". I set a timer for one minute and clean as much as I can. It's amazing how much can get done in just a minute! If I walk through the laundry room and notice it is unusually cluttered, I give myself 60 seconds to quickly put things away and wipe down the countertops and appliances. If the kitchen seems overtaken by mail and sippy cups and plastic helicopters and purses and bags and food and pieces of string and bits of half-eaten cereal bars, I give myself 60 seconds to put everything in its proper place (and the trash can). Sixty seconds. Imagine what you can do in five whole minutes! :)

Okay, and let me share a little tidbit that has really helped me to survive the day-to-dayness of stay-at-home Motherhood. There are days where I look around and think, "I was busy ALL DAY ... and have nothing to show for it." I look at my to-do list and all I've crossed off is "laundry". But I know I did more than that! So, one thing I've added to my to-do list are things I have already done. If I read a book to the kids, I write it down on the list and immediately cross it off. If I change five diapers, I write it down and cross it off. If I prep breakfast, feed the kids, clean the dishes, clean the kids, and clean the countertops, I write it down and cross it off. I don't do this every day, but sometimes I just need to be reminded that I AM busy all day, even if the house is still a wreck by the time the kids go to bed. Caring for little ones is a task in and of itself--the most important task of all--and it deserves proper recognition! By the end of the day, that to-do list is one huge scribble and I smile at all of the things I accomplished.

And, on that note, let me end by saying, most of us make the decision to be a stay-at-home parent because we want to raise our kids ... not to be housekeepers. Therefore, we shouldn't be hard on ourselves when our homes do not glisten the way we wish they would. If at the end of the day the kids have been loved, fed, taught, and nurtured, then our day was a successful one. The house needs attention and it will get it, just don't feel too bogged down by it.

Have a lovely day.

Chickie Chickie.

2012-02-03T00:00:00.000-08:00

How are the chickadees doing?

They are laying. Oh yes, they are laying. This picture was taken after I gave a dozen eggs to a friend. We have a surplus! When the weather is good, we get 4-5 eggs a day. Now that it's colder, we get two or three. It's great.

Our poor banty (our rooster) got attacked by a hawk the other day. Our neighbor saw it and texted my husband. He survived, although he is missing a few feathers! Hawks are a big threat as of now, so we keep the chickens cooped a lot of the day and let them run around for an hour or so (there have been a lot of coyotes around lately, too). Their coop has an open pen on the bottom so they can still scratch and eat bugs while safely locked in. They've been a fun addition to the family and hopefully the winter won't be too harsh for them. They do have a heat lamp, so that helps!

Great question!

Have a lovely day!

Some Thoughts.

2012-02-02T12:17:00.001-08:00

I've had a few people ask me if I regretted taking medication the day of Lydia's birth, after planning and preparing to go medication-free.

It's a fair question. I wrote the birth story post the night of her birth and I've had a week to reflect on the experience.

I think it's always hard when things don't go the way you plan. It's okay to have an idea in your mind of how you want things to happen, and even though you realize it might not go that way, I think it can still be hard to accept that things didn't turn out the way you had hoped. Obviously, a healthy baby was the end goal of Lydia's day and that goal was achieved. Honestly, in my case, I have no regrets. I wouldn't change anything.

I gave birth in a hospital because I trust my doctor's care. When the presence of meconium was discovered, I felt that it was as big of a deal as the doctor was saying, though some might disagree. One specific friend comes to mind who came too dangerously close to losing her baby because of meconium and since then I've never taken the issue of it lightly. When that came into play, I was open to whatever my doctor instructed, even, ugh, pitocin.

Out of my eight hours of labor, seven were without an epidural, and five of those hours included pitocin. I wouldn't change anything about it. I wouldn't have gotten the epidural sooner. Despite the pain, I actually, in some indescribable way, enjoyed labor. I was able to take a deep breath as soon as the contraction began, to inhale and close my eyes and completely relax myself bit by bit, to make sure my hands were unclenched, my toes were uncurled, my face was limp, as the contraction built and built. All of my focus was on complete relaxation and breathing (a high-five to yoga), to the point that when the contraction was over, I was almost asleep. It was amazing. I literally fell asleep between contractions because I was so relaxed. It was the most blissful comatose state. For as painful as each contraction was, the rest time in between was just as restful. I was in awe of the experience and loved it.

As the pitocin increased, my rest times decreased, to the point where relaxing between contractions and tolerating excruciating back labor was becoming pretty futile. From what I understand, transition, the period of dilation between 8-10, is the most difficult part of labor, and my doula explained that what I was feeling at a 6 is what I would have been feeling at an 8 if I wasn't on pitocin. When I received my epidural at a 7, I was at peace with the decision. The epidural was short lived, as I quickly progressed and began pushing within the hour. I still felt the pressure to push and felt that I was still in control. Because I only had the epidural for a short amount of time, I recovered well and was able to get up and move around soon after Lydia was born.

Her birth was wonderful. When it came time for me to push, my mom and my mom-in-law happened to be in the room with my doula and my husband and I. As the nurses set everything up, I asked my doctor if they could stay (totally a last-minute decision on my part and much to their surprise!) and she said they could. So, they were able to be there for the birth of what we think will be our last baby. This is something that I would not have necessarily been open to with my other babies, but this time the timing was just right and I wanted them to stay. I think it's easy to forget in the midst of the hustle and bustle of birth that the experience itself is truly a miracle, and hearing my two moms gasp and cry as Lydia was born helped to give the moment the poignancy it warranted. It was amazing.

So here I am, the mother of three. THREE. Wow. The song I chose to listen to while I was in labor was "Jesus, Draw Me Ever Nearer" as performed by Keith and Kristyn Getty. This song is special to me because it is the same song that saw my Dad through chemotherapy when he had cancer three years ago. The lyrics are simple and powerful. I find myself, now that Lydia is here, singing them to her as her lullaby, in the quiet hours of the night.

Jesus draw me ever nearer

As I labour through the storm.

You have called me to this passage,

And I'll follow, though I'm worn.

May this journey bring a blessing,

May I rise on wings of faith;

And at the end of my heart's testing,

With Your likeness let me wake.

Jesus guide me through the tempest,

Keep my spirit staid and sure.

When the midnight meets the morning,

Let me love You even more.

Let the treasures of the trial

Form within me as I go-

And at the end of this long passage,

Let me leave them at your throne.

May this journey bring a blessing,

May I rise on wings of faith;

And at the end of my heart's testing,

With Your likeness let me wake.

I can't tell you how much peace these words bring to an exhausted Mom who is slightly terrified at how in the world she is going to effectively parent and love the three precious kids God has blessed her with. The road ahead feels positively daunting and these words bring enormous peace, a constant reminder that life is for His glory, not for the glory of my own, and that I want only to be more like Him when the journey is through.

Have a lovely day, friends.

Ma Petite Moineau.

2012-02-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

My little sparrow.

HELP.

2012-01-30T11:01:00.001-08:00

I don't like to say it.
I don't like to need it.
I don't like to ask for it.
I don't like to take it.

But oh, I'm so, so, thankful for it.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone while I lay in bed with stomach cramps from overdoing it this weekend.

Hubby Help.

2012-01-30T00:00:00.000-08:00

Does your husband help a lot with the kiddos?

When I first read this question, I thought, "Yes! Now ... how am I going to expound on that?" As I thought through how life has changed since having our first, I realized that my husband has always been a help, but the level of his helpfulness has changed.

Let me explain.

After we had our first, my husband's primary role was to help me. I needed him to affirm me, to console me. He didn't exactly know what to with a newborn, but he did whatever I asked, trying to help. He changed diapers and such willingly, if I asked. When Naomi came along, he took over Cub duties whenever we went out, ate dinner, etc., and I dealt with Naomi. We sort of naturally slipped into the roles of him caring for the toddler and me caring for the baby, when need be. Again, he was great at doing anything I asked.

Then, this summer, something changed.

When I went to Vermont, I was gone for six days. My husband, while he had help some days, was now the primary caregiver to the kids. He had to take care of the kids intuitively, meaning, I wasn't there to ask for his help--he just had to figure it out. And, eventually, he had to just know what they needed. When I came home, I noticed how his helpfulness had changed. Instead of waiting for me to ask him what needed to be done, he figured it out. Instead of asking what the kids need to eat or drink, he just feeds them. Instead of hunting around trying to figure out how to pack their bags, he just does it and knows what to put in there. The other night I came home from Zumba with the kids and he had their rooms picked up and their jammies laid out on their beds and he immediately scooped them up, took them to their rooms, and took care of bedtime. This might not seem like a big deal to some, but it's a big deal to me--knowing how to care for two kids (one a boy, one a girl), with two different personalities, and sometimes vastly different needs (different cups, different foods, one potty-trained, one not, etc.), is challenging for me some days (a lot of days!). For my husband to be able to come home from the job he works so hard at all day and be able to seamlessly step right into Job #2 of being Dad ... it blows my mind sometimes! I'm very, very thankful for him.

So, to answer your question, yes, he's a huge help ... and that means more than I can really explain. :)

Have a lovely day!

Alone Time.

2012-01-28T09:33:00.000-08:00

My big kids are in the living room playing with my parents, Lydia is sound asleep, and I have a cup of coffee and a few quick minutes to myself!

This is just a little shout-out to the mostly visitor-free hospital stay I had after Lydia was born. My sister-in-law gave me this idea by telling me how wonderful her hospital stay was--all alone. Just she and her new baby, snuggling the days away. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense--encouraging visitors to come after we were home and settled, and to leave hospital time to recover (duh) and bond with our newest little one, before the chaos of real life inevitably ensued. Genius.

So, after Lydia's arrival, I put a short note on Facebook encouraging friends to visit us once we got home, and the nurses happily stuck this sign on my door:

Of course, parents and grandparents were welcome, but even they kept a distance, respecting the rest I needed. With my other two babies, I would have thought it was lonely and sad and that I needed to have a party in my room, but this time? It was awesome. Not having to play hostess the day after I birthed a child was fabulous. Who knew?

So, we did a lot snuggling ...

I enjoyed the delicious offerings from room service (and ate ALL of this breakfast, yes, I did)...

And, by the time I left the hospital, I felt like this:

(Notice the baby strategically placed in front of my very-much-present gut.)

Seriously, it was great. Lydia was the only baby in the maternity ward the few days we were there, which means the nurses were happy to keep her at night between feedings and happy to keep her while I showered. It was amazing. We spent our days snuggling and sleeping and I look back on those few days very sweetly. It was great.

And now Lydia is fussing and Cub is trying to crawl in my lap--gotta go!

Have a lovely day.

The Birth Story, Quick Edition.

2012-01-25T18:47:00.000-08:00

My apologies if this is slightly incoherent. I want to write this while it's still fresh on my mind, so I can answer the "natural birth" question in one big post. Lydia is snuggling with her Daddy and I'm resting in bed. Phew, what a day!

And, as with so many things, it did not go at all as I had planned.

We had decided that if everything looked okay, we would have my water broken today (Wednesday). We were hoping that things would progress on their own after that (meaning, no need for pitocin) and made plans accordingly, realizing, of course, that it's kind of rare for things to go exactly as planned. We came in Wednesday morning and had all of my vitals taken, got me ready to go, and the doctor broke my water.

And immediately saw that Lydia had had a bowel movement.

Then the priority became getting Lydia out in a timely manner, which I totally understood. They gave me two hours to labor on my own and if things did not progress well, they would start pitocin. My whole reason for doing a natural birth was to avoid pitocin, but at this point I knew that the most important thing was quick progress so Lydia would come, for fear of her swallowing the meconium. My broken water continued to make an appearance throughout my labor and the meconium was still present.

After two hours, my progress was minimal. So, they started the pitocin. They started it minimally, but, to make a long story short, they had to up the dosage over the next few hours. I was breathing through the labor (my doula was amazing) and the contractions were hard, but manageable, as long as I had breaks. Then the labor moved to my back and I stopped having breaks. The contractions would start in my stomach and then move slowly to my back ... and then stay in my back between contractions, giving me no time to rest or rebuild my pain tolerance. Ask my husband--the cow-like sounds coming from my mouth were evidence that the contractions were fast and hard. Then the nurse came in, felt my stomach, and informed me that Lydia was in a posterior position, or sunny side-up.

At that point, I lost it and started crying. My son was posterior and the marathon pushing involved with getting him out was not forgotten in my mind. I knew that I could not push like that without an epidural, as he had turned in the birth canal. I was dilated to a 7 and knew that if I was going to get an epidural, this was the time. The contractions continued to hit hard with little to no break. So I chose the epidural.

I felt badly for my doula, that she had put in so much hard work (and she totally supported my decision), but I knew that the day had not turned out the way we had expected. I knew that as soon as pitocin made an appearance, things might change, and knowing that she was also sunny side-up sealed the deal.

I was still able to feel the contractions with the epidural. The pain was numbed, but I was still really sore and very nauseous (I think throwing up during pushing may have helped her come out). It was only a matter of moments before I began to push. When her head appeared, she was sideways, turning, and I was so, so glad I had that epidural. By the time she came, she came out in the right position, and they immediately whisked her away to scope her stomach and make sure she had not swallowed the meconium. It was a long time before I was able to hold her, but when I did, I knew that, while the day had not gone at all the way I had planned, it had gone perfectly. I'm so glad that we decided to break my water today, so we were able to discover the meconium. I feel like God's hand was over the entire day.

I'm exhausted, but I'm so happy. She's here, our little Lydia.

So, our goal was reached: Healthy baby, healthy Mama.

Time for bed. :)

She's Here!

2012-01-25T16:47:00.001-08:00

Lydia Jane.
7 pounds, 10 ounces
21 inches
We love our little lady.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

School and Work.

2012-01-24T00:00:00.000-08:00

How is it going with homeschooling? You mentioned before that you were trying it in small steps and I wondered if you still felt the same as you did back then.

Ah, good question! Cub and I still do a bit of "school" every week, with flashcards and reading and such. But, as far as schooling is concerned, we're just going to take it a year at a time. Finding out I was pregnant with Lydia put a new spin on everything and the reality of having a three year old, a one and a half year old, and a newborn has begun to sink in a little. Don't get me wrong, I have friends who have many more children, many close together, who still homeschool and homeschool well--I'm just not sure what that would look like for me. I want to be honest with myself more than anything, while keeping an open mind. That's why we're just going to take it year-by-year. I'm not adhering to one thing or another as of yet.

Cub is in a unique spot because he's an October birthday. This means he will be the oldest in his class, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. As I've seen him grow and develop, especially in these past few months, I've begun considering having him attend a two-day a week program next fall. I haven't decided for sure. I never thought that I would consider it, but, well, as with all things related to parenting, I'm learning to never make a decision about something I've never experienced. I can see how much Cub would thrive spending a few hours a week in a classroom setting (no more than two days, though). But, we will only do it if it is a private Christian preschool. If that is out of our reach, then I will keep him home until kindergarten and re-evaluate then. And if it's a total bust, then we'll consider something else. I want to be flexible and practical when it comes to the kids' schooling and I believe the only way to do that is to take it year-by-year. I'll keep you updated.

I hope that made sense. I'm still learning all of this!

Do you have plans or desires to get back into the workforce outside the home at any point?

Good question! As of now, the answer would be "no" (but, again, only time will tell!). If possible, I would love to stay home and volunteer my time. One of my greatest encouragements as a young Mom was having older stay-at-home Moms who mentored me--I would love to have that role for "younger" Moms. If the kids are in school, I'd love to help out in their classrooms. I still want to be available to them, even if they are not home with me, while they're still young. As they get older, things might and probably will change, but we'll see when the time comes.

It will be at least five years before I have all of my kids in school (again, if we don't homeschool), so I have some time to think about it ... thankfully. Honestly, the thought of an empty house already makes me sad!

These have all been really great questions. Y'all are making me think!

Have a lovely day!

Forty Weeks.

2012-01-23T07:58:00.000-08:00

Sleep: What's that? :)

Energy: Waning, but still there. The lack of sleep may have something to do with that. That and the fact that crawling on all fours is the most comfortable position for me right now.

Wardrobe: Down to two shirts and one pair of jeans. Hang in there, clothes!

Weight gain: Down two pounds at my last appointment, which I think is normal at this point in pregnancy. Because my ice cream consumption has remained steady. Calcium, folks, calcium.

Feelings: Okay friends, here we go ... I feel READY! I've finally hit the "done" phase. She may make her appearance any day, thank you very much! The anticipation is really exciting. I'm nervous about having a natural birth, but I'm excited, too. I'm just really ready to hold my baby girl in my arms. Let's do this, Lydia!

Oh, and we've had a middle name change. Last minute. Maybe this is why she's waited so long to come! NOW we're ready. :)

Have a lovely day!

Forty Eve.

2012-01-22T12:12:00.000-08:00

So. How are you?

I'm doing fine, fine.

Tomorrow is my due date.

TOMORROW.

I mean, I know due dates aren't much more than educated guesses and such, but wow, I just can't believe that when I open my eyes tomorrow, I will have been pregnant for FORTY WEEKS.

FORTY.

This is the thing when your first baby comes early: You just assume that your others will, too. Of course, Cub was sunny side-up, which aided in his early delivery, but, you know...I still assumed Naomi would come early, too. And, when she didn't, I was miserable and induced a week early (using the fact that I was Strep B Positive as a reason ... which was an understandable one, I guess). But maybe I've accepted the fact that each pregnancy is VERY different, so I'm not so much surprised that I've made it this far with my last.

Oddly enough, despite the aching back and hips, the groaning, the lack of coordination, the incoherent sentences, the puffy face and fingers (but I still have my ankles!) ... I'm really happy to have made it to this point. I've had grumpy days, too, but they've been the exception rather than the rule.

It's actually really, really exciting.

I hope she comes tomorrow. Shoot, I hope she comes tonight! If she doesn't, we've made arrangements that I feel comfortable with--I won't feel like I've rushed her out. It's a good feeling.

And ... I guess that's it.

FORTY.

Wow.

Have a lovely day.

Pancakes with PawPaw.

2012-01-20T07:39:00.001-08:00

Once a week, the kids and I load up and head over to their PawPaw's house for breakfast. PawPaw is my husband's maternal grandpa and he makes some pretty yummy pancakes. We have lovingly dubbed our visits as "Pancakes with PawPaw".

My grandparents lived 2,000 miles away when I was a kid and I never knew my great-grandparents, so these visits are special for me to see with my kids. Even as a stay-at-home Mom, my life is busy, and I'm glad we've carved out intentional time to come and visit. It's been so sweet to see the kids warm up to being at PawPaw's house--our visits used to be sparse, but the frequency has made them quite comfortable--not only at the house, but around their eighty year-old great grandfather, too. They immediately climb into their respective seats at the table, gobble their pancakes, and run upstairs to play with PawPaw's marbles, begging him to come along. After, of course, a quick stop inside Granny's room to say hello (she is primarily bed-ridden).

I hope the kids remember these sweet times with their PawPaw.

Have a lovely weekend, friends.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

To Boob or To Bottle, Part Deux.

2012-01-19T00:00:00.000-08:00

My friend left a comment asking me if I noticed a difference in my two kids, with one being breastfed and the other being breastfed for only a few months before being bottle-fed. It's a great question!

Firstly, their brains. My kids have two totally different personalities. Cub is more serious, focused, and expressive--probably your typical firstborn. Naomi is free and easy, hilarious, and all kinds of fun--probably your typical second-born. Caleb spoke words and sentences early, but isn't as proficient in motor skills (he still needs help dressing himself). Naomi, on the other hand, speaks primarily in chirps and clicks (ha ha), but her motor skills are much more proficient--she can already partially dress herself and is much more agile (read: coordinated) than Cub. I can attribute those things really only to interest. Cub has no interest in dressing himself. Naomi has only begun having interest in using words. Breastfeeding may have played a part in Cub's memorization ability and such, but I know a lot of breastfed babies that are like Naomi and take a little longer. So, it's hard to tell!

The other issue to look at is health. Cub was a much sicker baby, even though he was breastfed. I remember someone making a snide remark about how her formula-fed baby was never sick, but my breastfed baby was (high-five, witchy Mama!). I attribute that more to the fact that he was early and his lungs weren't as developed as they could be. He had ear infections from an early age and they thought he would have asthma as well (which he does not). But, once he got tubes, he was fine. The kid hasn't been on antibiotics in a year. Naomi, on the other hand, was a healthy baby, despite her tummy issues early on. She was a much stronger baby, I would say. Is that thanks to the formula, or thanks to the fact that she is a girl? Eh, I don't know. I personally think being a girl and being in utero longer worked to her advantage, but who knows! How do we ever know? Asthma runs in our family, so is that why Cub had lung trouble? Could be!

As far as bonding, both of my kids are extremely affectionate and loving and snuggly, so I don't think it affected that at all. And, on a side note, I didn't baby-wear (besides running errands or every now and then around the house), either, and my kids are still super-affectionate and loving. Sometimes I think there's more to personality than we give credit. Everything isn't ALL up to us!

All that to say, I'm pretty inconclusive on feeling that breastfeeding or bottle-feeding affected my kids in a notable way--there are just too many other variables to consider. I still believe breast milk is better since our bodies make it naturally and such. But do I think that babies who are not breastfed suffer in some way? Nope. Do I think that because breast milk is healthy that formula must therefore not be healthy? No. Not in a way that my personal experience has shown me. But, between the two, I prefer breastfeeding, as I've mentioned. But, more than anything, I love my babies. And whatever works best for my babies works for me.

Have a lovely day.

To Boob or To Bottle?

2012-01-18T00:00:00.001-08:00

Bottle-feeding or breastfeeding--which one is easier?

(These questions are answered in order of "urgency", if you will, ha ha!)

A quick recap for those of you new to the blog: Cub, my oldest, was breastfed until ten months (he weaned himself) and Naomi, my youngest (for now!), was breastfed for four months and I chose to wean her to formula then because of a milk allergy.

Okay. This is one of those things where I can only speak from experience and my experience is limited. This question comes from a dear reader who just had her third and she is considering the convenience of one versus the other (I believe she breastfed her other two). While I can confidently say that "Yes! Breastfeeding my first was easy!" I cannot confidently say that breastfeeding a third would be easy (I will soon find out). Also, her third is a boy, and boys are a little harder (typically) to get going. Cub ate for a total of 45 minutes for the first few months. I thought I was some kind of champion because I could claim that "Look! He took forever to eat and I had clogged milk ducts and he had reflux but I DID IT! Breastfeeding all the waaaaay!" until I realized ... he was my first. Of course I had time to dedicate to all of that. With Naomi, she was actually a much easier feeder. She nursed great from day one, a total of ten minutes per side, which was heaven. But she had tummy issues from the get-go and the decision to wean was so, so, so hard, but it made the most sense for all of us. I'll be honest--I'm not a huge fan of formula. I think it's stinky. But I'm so thankful for it. Naomi did great going to formula. With my third, I plan to breastfeed and hope it goes swimmingly all the way through, but I've learned to give myself grace if it doesn't.

So, all of that being said, I think breastfeeding is still "easier". It's easier because it's always with you and, with time, the baby typically becomes more efficient in their eating and the time gets cut way down. And, of course, there's no arguing that it really is the healthiest option. Comparing the two, I think transitioning from having two bottles attached to you to having to prep actual bottles is cumbersome, at first. But, that's comparing the two. I got used to prepping bottles for Naomi the way I got used to breastfeeding Cub. Life goes on. Ultimately, you do what you feel is best for the baby AND for you.

That being said, I will say, Reader, to do whatever will help you keep your sanity. This is just one of those things where having an opinion doesn't really help--we Moms just need to support each other. Set a goal before you wean. Try to breastfeed for a certain length of time, to prove to yourself that you've given it a fair shot (which you already have--I only suggest this because I know you want to breastfeed), and then make your choice.

It won't be a wrong one.

Good luck, friend.

Have a lovely day!

39 Weeks!

2012-01-16T00:00:00.001-08:00

Sleep: Some nights good, some nights bad, but never all the way through the night!

Energy: Refreshingly good (probably thanks to Zumba and chasing after toddlers), but by the end of the day, I'm definitely tired. Everything takes more effort and that's tiring!

Wardrobe: I have three shirts left that I actually like to wear, and one pair of jeans. So, in a word, limited. My stomach is out there!

Weight gain: Last I checked, it was less than with the other two pregnancies, but I'm really not keeping track. Seriously, chasing two little ones must be the thing.

Feelings: Excited, a little nervous about going too far past my due date. I really want to just go into labor on my own and I have to keep thinking towards that. And eat spicy food and pineapple, ha ha.

Have a lovely day!

The Space Between.

2012-01-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

I will answer the rest of the questions in a bit, but I wanted to write out my thoughts while they were still fresh on my mind.

I've had a lot of people ask me if I'm "done" being pregnant. This is, obviously, understandable, as having two little ones and a massive preggo belly make any simple task a bit arduous and the idea of not waddling around like a walrus should be somewhat appealing. And it is. I remember with my first two pregnancies I felt "done" around 36 weeks or so. Just FINISHED. Enough already.

But that hasn't exactly been the case this time.

I feel like I'm in this sort of extraordinary spanse of time with my kids. We know that life is about to change, but it hasn't changed yet, so here we are, existing in a state of anticipation. Every day is one day closer to meeting Lydia. The kids know that a baby is coming, as much as they can understand it, and I think an extra sense about them has caused them to crave more time with me. God has blessed me with really affectionate kids--they've always loved to be snuggled and held, but I've noticed their "need" for me has increased over the past few days. I've made it a point to slow down more and really spend sweet one-on-one time with each of them, doing their favorite craft or reading their favorite book. I find that I relish them more, their expressions, their words, the sound of their voice ... I'm drinking it all in while my attention is not yet again divided.

I know that after Lydia is born, life will, in time, acclimate to its new sense of normal, and I will again, hopefully, find my head, as I am pretty sure I will lose it for a few weeks (months? eh, years?). But I guess I'm just trying to absorb as much of our current normal now as I can. I'm getting teary writing this all out and I think there's a part of me that's going to miss this, these days of waiting with my two ducklings following me all day, knowing we are on the brink of a beautiful life-change. It's scary and wonderful, all at the same time.

I'm so glad to have them with me. I'm so glad to have little hands to pat my belly.

And, who knows, maybe Lydia is happy as a clam and will wait even longer to come. Then you might see an "I'M DONE" post! But, until then, I am joyful for these moments and humbled by what is yet to come.

Have a lovely day.

My Three Little Rules.

2012-01-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

What was/is your disciplining style with Cub and Mouse?

(Specifically referring to tantrums.)

Let me first say, every child is different. This we know.

But, just because every child is different doesn't mean that your tolerance for certain behaviors changes. There are a few general principles that I practice with both of my children, even though their personalities are different, so I will share them here.

1) Eye Contact

When I want to make a request or if I need to reprimand one of the kiddos, I get down to their level and say, "Caleb, look at my eyes." To keep it simpler for Naomi, I say, "Naomi, where are Mama's eyes?" I do this because I can't guarantee that they are listening to me if they are not looking at me. I don't believe it's fair for me to bark a command over their heads and then huff in frustration when they don't immediately respond--how do I know that maybe they didn't hear me? Here's the kicker--when the kids know they're in the wrong, they don't want to look at me. I get on their level, ask them to look in my eyes, and their little heads look down. Their eyes close. I ask again firmly and see a little sideways glance. It's hilarious, really! Once our eyes meet, then I speak. I make sure to use their real names, not their nicknames, so they know I mean business. If they disobey after we've made eye contact and they know what is requested of them, then I take it to the next step. I will leave that vague, since everyone has a different opinion of what the "next step" should be!

2) Leave The Room, Fussypants!

Kids throw tantrums. For Cub, it meant lying down on the floor with his eyes closed (think, "Occupy Living Room"). For Naomi, she'll say, "No!" and sit on her bottom. I'm a big fan of kids being able to express themselves ... but if it's in the form of a tantrum, I stick to the belief that tantrums are really only fun when there is an audience. So, I remove the audience. When a tantrum begins, they get a warning and if they do not listen, I escort them (when they're learning) to their room and tell them that they are more than welcome to be upset in their room, but they may not throw a tantrum in front of me. They must be alone. If they come out upset, they go back. Come out upset again, go back again. Once they are able to come out happy, then we're done. Naomi has thrown one tantrum that required going to her room (the other times a warning was enough) and it was a BATTLE. An hour long. It was rough, but she hasn't done it since (even though I know she will). Cub now knows to simply go to his room when he gets upset. When he's ready to talk about it, we talk. Two different personalities, but the method has worked for both.

And, when we're in public, I'm a big advocate for "going to the van" if a tantrum happens. I know that "going to the van" will mean different things depending on your method of discipline, but, again, removing the audience is applicable no matter what.

3) A Gentle Answer

I worked at a girls' home in Vermont one summer in college. There was a separate home for boys and one day at a co-ed volleyball game, one of the boys lost it. Just as violence was about to ensue, the home director was able to diffuse the situation without yelling or barking commands. We talked about it later and the director explained Proverbs 15:1, which says, "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Losing your head typically encourages others to do the same. I've held this Proverb close to my heart while parenting. If I want my kids to take me seriously, I need to speak them without sounding like a raving idiot. Don't get me wrong--there are appropriate times to raise my voice (when they are in danger, etc.) and, let's face it, I've raised it when I shouldn't! But, as a rule, when I want the kids' attention, getting down on their level and speaking calmly works infinitely better than yelling. It keeps both of us calm and helps me stay on track and say only what I want to say, rather than blabbing in anger where the chances are better that I will say something I will regret. It's true--a gentle answer really will turn away wrath...for both parties involved.

I hope that some of those things are helpful for you.

Have a lovely day!

First Questions.

2012-01-10T00:00:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the great questions, friends! I look forward to answering them. Here is the first round!

What are your favorite dinners to cook?

Easy is key in our family! I do my grocery shopping on Monday and use that afternoon to prep as much as I can for the week. Some of our favorites include chicken fajitas, chicken fried rice, crispy chicken and spinach salad, homemade chicken noodle soup (hallelujah crock-pot!), and baked crispy chicken, rice and veggies. And, I always keep a frozen pizza handy, just in case (California Kitchens Margherita Pizza is the kids' favorite!). I love to cook, but I don't have a whole lot of time to dedicate to it with a burgeoning belly and two toddlers "helping" me! Hopefully as they grow older (sniff, sniff) I'll be able to spread my wannabe gourmet wings. Until then, I try to keep it simple: whole as much as possible, throw in a veggie, and done.

(To make my chicken "crispy", I butterfly-cut chicken breasts and slice them apart completely. Then I slice them again to make four pieces. After pounding them with a meat tenderizer, I brush them lightly with butter [mmm, butter] and dip them in a traditional bread crumb/panko bread crumb/parmesan cheese mix. I bake them for 50-55 minutes at 350.)

Do you have favorite books that you recommend for surviving (enjoying!) the toddler years?

Ah, yes. When it comes to the matter of discipline (training and teaching), I love and highly recommend Don't Make Me Count To Three by Ginger Plowman. I love this book because it focuses on training your child's heart, not just their behavior. Love it. Another book that I'm about halfway through is Give Them Grace by Elyse Fitzpatrick. In the section I've read, I love how it focuses on making our children aware of their need for a Savior as early on as possible. It teaches that when kids find themselves in disobedience (hitting their sister, disobeying Mom, etc.), we as parents can encourage them to pray for God's help--after all, being kind to your sister is just plain hard sometimes. So, when they plead, "I can't do it!" we respond, "You're right! We need God's help to be kind--He can give us the strength to do it." Any kid can learn to behave, but making them aware of their need for God is imperative. And, on a final note, I've never read this book but have heard that Loving the Little Years: Mothering in the Trenches by Rachel Jankovic is great, too.

Great questions! Have a lovely day!

Questions? Comments?

2012-01-08T05:55:00.001-08:00

This is the time where I open up the floor for you to ask me a question. Any question. These posts help me understand how I am portraying myself on this blog and give me an idea of what I can improve, change, etc. You can ask me anything--how George the Cat got his name, or something about my faith, or if my hair is naturally blonde. Or, you can ask me nothing at all and we'll move on!

I do reserve the right to not answer any question if I deem it inappropriate. :)

Have a lovely day, friends.

Letter for Lydia.

2012-01-05T06:55:00.000-08:00

Dear Lydia,

Hey, sweet girl! The time is drawing near when we shall meet and I am so very excited.

You, my dear, are inside of that big belly. That's me. I am your Mama. You've heard my voice and now you can see my face. Ta-da! We have about two weeks until your due date! We are thrilled.

We have been busy preparing for your arrival! This is the room you and your big sister, Naomi, will share. She has been busily feeding and patting and cuddling her baby dolls, practicing for her new baby ... you. :)

Your family and friends have worked hard to make this room special and I think they've done a marvelous job.

(Your take-home outfit. Squee!)

Someday, you and your big sister will share these bunk beds. I can already hear the giggles and squeals. Oh, my heart is full.

The time of your arrival is drawing ever near and we are ready, my little love. I love to feel your kicks and pushes, your small hiccups and your light punches. Your Dadda and I love to talk to you and rub my belly. You are settled comfortably on the right side of my stomach, which gives my stomach a very funny crooked look if you look closely enough. I love it. I love that you are uniquely and wonderfully you, even within my stomach. God's fearful and wonderful touch on you is already undeniable.

We love you, Itty Bitty Liddy. We can't wait to meet you soon.

Love,

Mama

2012-01-04T06:20:00.000-08:00

Good Morning! I read this excerpt this morning and wanted to share it with you. This was a good reminder for me not only with pregnancy, but with all areas of my life.

There are times when you can't understand why you cannot do what you want to do. When God brings a time of waiting, and appears to be unresponsive, don't fill it with busyness, just wait. The time of waiting may come to teach you the meaning of sanctification--to be set apart from sin and made holy--or it may come after the process of sanctification has begun to teach you what service means. Never run before God gives you His direction. If you have the slightest doubt, then He is not guiding. Whenever there is doubt--wait...When it is a question of the providential will of God, wait for God to move.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest (Updated Edition)

Master.

2012-01-03T00:00:00.000-08:00

This weekend I used my Saturday to finish two Pinterest projects for our master bedroom. Let me first say that they are by no means impressive or difficult, but just the fact that I completed something that I started is somewhat noteworthy and, according to my personality, usually all but impossible. I realized that I never did a room-by-room blog post with pictures of our house, so this is me catching up.

When we moved to our new house last spring, our goal was to simplify. You can tell in the decor of our home. I tried gaudy on for size once, but it just didn't fit. I like it clean. I like it simple. A muted palette is a soothing one and with our busy lives, I'm all about creating a calm environment in my home. And an awesome chunky frame on clearance from Hobby Lobby and some spray-painted letters are right up my alley.

The "J K" stands for our initials, not "just kidding". :)

For the other half of our room, I cut some leaves out of scrapbook paper and decoupaged them onto white canvases. I didn't have a particular pattern I was going for and I'm happy with how they turned out. The glider is in our room for Lydia's impending arrival. These windows face most of our land and I love the view. This room is always bright.

Now I can rest a little easier until our lives take on a whole new dimension in a few weeks.

Have a lovely day!

The Little Big.

2012-01-02T00:00:00.000-08:00

The other night as I was crawling into bed after my billionth potty break, I heard Naomi sneeze over the monitor. The sneezing slowly turned into a cough, which slowly turned into a whimper. I rolled out of bed and padded down the dark hallway to her room. She was standing in her crib with her arms reaching out to me and I scooped her up with her blankie and brought her back to my bed. My husband had jumped ship earlier in the night (his snoring pregnant wife was keeping him awake? what?) and was in the guest room, so it was just baby girl and I. I snuggled her next to me and she curled into a ball until our foreheads were touching.

I touched her chin with my finger and she wrapped her hand around my hand. I couldn't believe how small and chubby her fingers are. I forget. I kissed her forehead and we snuggled together, forehead-to-forehead, hand-in-hand, until she fell asleep.

I was about to carry her back to bed until I realized that this might be one of our last long snuggles for a while, after the baby comes. So I froze time and wrapped my arms around her and soaked in her baby-ness. Her little hands, her little feet, her little head, the smell of her hair. She's so little, about to be the "big" sister. My pillow was wet from a few tears, thinking about our sweet moment and the future. It's so much to take in, but I'm thankful. I never could have asked for more than that moment that night.

Love you, baby girl.

Have a lovely day.

Resolving.

2012-01-01T05:46:00.000-08:00

Because I'm a goal person. And a blog is a nice way to stay accountable.

: Birth a baby

: Preferably, birth said baby unmedicated, if experience is void of complication

: Decorate empty formal dining room

: Lose most of the baby weight by summer through healthy eating and exercise (will I have time to eat? or exercise?) ... and keep it off (the real challenge for this foodie)

: Go on a trip with my hubby

: Invest time in someone outside of my family and friends

: Run a 5k

: Pray intentional prayers about parenting my children according to their specific needs--three different personalities are intimidating, but they are three lovingly crafted personalities and I need to remember it's okay to ask their Creator for help when my head is spinning (and when it's not)

: Pay it forward once a week

: Learn a new skill (any new skill ... sewing, something to bake, anything)

Ten goals. I will hang them on my bathroom wall.

If you have a resolution you'd like to share, I'd love to read it.

Have a lovely New Year.

Love.

2011-12-30T03:57:00.001-08:00

My sister-in-law's parents sent Naomi some shirts from Mongolia. If I were any sort of seamstress, I would make her ten. Thick and warm and pretty darn cute.

Or maybe we just need to take a field trip to Mongolia. :).

Have a lovely weekend!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone...hence the sub-par picture quality

Buzz. Slap.

2011-12-29T10:28:00.001-08:00

I'm walking through the waiting room at my doctor's office.

A guy is sitting there with his wife/girlfriend/sister/etc. who is pregnant.

He gestures towards my stomach and chuckles.

Guy: "Looks like you've been stung by a bee, too!"

My mind clicks down the list of possible responses to his attempt at humor:

1) Give a courteous smile and continue walking. Quickly.

2) Freak him out by crying and running for the door. He just called me fat, right?

3) Give a clever response.

Me, putting my hands on my burgeoning stomach:

"Yes, sir! And it must have been a BIG BEE!"

You roll with the punches, right?

Have a lovely day.

Drawing a Blank.

2011-12-26T05:27:00.000-08:00

As I laid in bed this morning, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps I should pack my hospital bag soon. At some point. I mean, I don't think baby girl is coming too soon, but a little preparedness is never a bad thing.

Oddly enough, as I was racking my brain, trying to think of the appropriate items to bring, my mind kept drawing a blank. I remember meticulously packing our overnight bag before Cub was born ... but I'm not sure what was in it. Naomi's birth was planned and I'm sure we were stocked and ready to go ... but y'all, I'm not even kidding, besides socks and chapstick, I'm having a hard time coming up with those little things that I'm supposed to remember having done this twice before.

What were the necessities that you packed for the hospital? Were there other things that weren't as obvious that you're glad you brought? I know once I sit down and make my list it will all come back to me, but for now, my post-holiday fog coupled with my dense pregnancy brain is making it difficult for me to come up with anything!

Have a lovely day, friends.

2011-12-25T10:46:00.001-08:00

Flippin' Sweet!

2011-12-23T07:53:00.000-08:00

It's safe to say my perspective at the end of this week is a little more upbeat than what I experienced last week.

The stomach bug laid me flat for four days and finally, on Tuesday, I was able to hold food down and function somewhat normally. It was miserable, but y'all, let me tell you, there's nothing like illness to make you appreciate health. At the end of it, I found myself tolerating the normal pains and groans and strains of third trimester pregnancy with much more grace. A few contractions, sore hips, and pressure are easy to manage when compared to experiencing those things AND the symptoms of a stomach bug. God knows that it's hard to have a bad attitude when one has a grateful heart. And I am so grateful for health ... SO grateful for health, that the negative thoughts and feelings I was having have paled in comparison. Don't get me wrong--the thought of three little ones is still a bit overwhelming, but I am enormously grateful that He has given me a healthy and, all things considered, an uneventful pregnancy. I needed that reminder.

That being said, I think all of the throwing up may have paid off. While I was heaving (sorry for all the throwing up talk), I felt like I was on the brink of breaking a rib. I almost screamed in pain. Throwing up has never been that painful for me, but now I think I know why it was. At my appointment yesterday, we found out that Lydia, who has been breech since 30 weeks, has FLIPPED! And I'll bet you anything that baby flipped while I was throwing up. I've heard of that happening, and it's the only way I can explain the pain I was feeling (it was horrible). Isn't that crazy?

So now here I am, a day away from 36 weeks. I'm dilated to a 2, but I'm guessing that is just the result of Lydia flipping--surely that shook things up a bit! I am not effaced at all and I feel great, so I think baby girl still has a while before she makes her appearance. She already weighs six pounds and the doctor thinks I won't make it to my due date, but we'll see. We all know we girls are tricky. :)

There you have it!

Have a lovely day, a lovely weekend, and a VERY Merry Christmas!

Crock-Pot Steel Cut Oats.

2011-12-22T00:00:00.000-08:00

After posting some pics of yummy crock-pot oatmeal on Facebook (all of which I cannot find, hence the Google Images photo above ... LAME, sorry), I had some requests that I post said recipe on my blog. I found this easy double-boiler method linked from my friend Leslie's blog. The Footy Pajamas household is quite grateful that she took the time to share it! It's super-easy. Plus, what's better than waking up to a breakfast that's already done?

If your breakfasts are anything like ours in our house, then a little preparedness goes a long way.

I add a little more water than the directions specify, simply because my crock-pot is rather ambitious when it comes to heating. Also, I made a rookie mistake of setting my crock-pot to "warm" for fear that the oats would burn and nay, they simply didn't cook. Be sure to set it to low. We mix our oats with bananas and maple syrup. Yum.

So, click on the link, and enjoy! We do, at least twice a week. :)

Have a lovely day.

Wordless Wednesday: All Hands On Deck. :)

2011-12-21T00:00:00.000-08:00

Week 34: A Recap.

2011-12-19T00:00:00.000-08:00

It's safe to say Week 34 was my hardest week yet.

See? I don't even have a picture to show for it.

But, if I did, I think it would look something like this:

Well, okay, chub up his cheeks a little and it might be a tad more accurate.

Last week was my Week of Panic. I woke up every morning feeling overwhelmed before my feet ever hit the floor. My agenda for the week was an easy one--lots of time home with the kids, two family Christmases, a playgroup ... nothing that screams "stress". And yet that familiar anxiety-ridden panic-y feeling I first recognized in my pregnancy with Caleb decided to rear its ugly head this past week.

And it was HARD.

Monday and Tuesday were bearable, but Wednesday was the beginning of the worst. I was hosting playgroup for some good friends of mine, which I usually love to do, but it seemed like nothing could go quite right that morning. A preggo belly and two toddlers made the task trickier than usual and as I hobbled around picking up, I couldn't help but reminisce back to the days when I had only one child and hosted playgroup. I'd usually have a spread of two or three brunch-y delights, a spotless house, a fresh pot of coffee, and oh, probably party favors or Mom SWAG. A totally different scene than what I was experiencing this particular morning, attempting to vacuum only a few rooms while scraping stuck-on cereal bar from the tile floor and grabbing the burning sausage roll from the oven before it went from "well done" to "house fire". It seemed that no matter how quickly I moved, I couldn't move quickly enough. I waddled to the left, waddled to the right, grunted as I bent over to pick up superfluous stuff from the floor, and right in the middle of it all, I heard a loud CRASH come from the butler pantry.

I cringed as I peeked around the corner, only to see Naomi with a terrified look on her face, holding my camera strap in one hand while my camera (still intact) laid on the floor ... with its lens shattered in at least a bazillion pieces. I felt a lump catch in my throat. Then my mind imagined a screaming newborn in the background of this overwhelming chaos, and I promptly burst into tears.

I CAN'T DO IT.

The panic continued throughout the day and a long conversation with my husband helped to ease the tension (I just love him). The next day was a bit more bearable until Friday hit and I woke up with not only a bit of panic, but a runny nose as well. Our family Christmas on my husband's side was that evening and I muscled through the evening's activities, only to barely sleep that night and wake up groggy, congested, and frustrated the next morning. As my feet hit the floor, I doubled over from pain in my lower abdomen (welcome to a constant in my life right now: UTI). I finally called the doctor and she said for me to go into the hospital for monitoring.

Oh boy.

I didn't want to go. I knew what it would entail. I didn't want to be monitored. I knew the baby was fine and I wasn't in labor. I just wanted MEDS. Preferably through an IV. Make this UTI GO AWAY. Sure enough, they hooked me up, concluded I wasn't in labor (yes, I know, thank you) and sent me home with a prescription. Oh, here's a fun extra--I threw up in the hospital. And then I threw up later that evening, in the car (thank goodness for a to-go baggy that saved the day). All Saturday night I moaned from a deep pain in my lower back, throwing up every now and then (which was unusually excruciating) until I finally filled the tub with scalding water at 2:00 in the morning and then sat in it until the water turned cold. I threw up the next morning and was finally able to hold something down by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around. And now, here I sit, a towel on my head (yay, a shower), thankful that most of the illness has passed.

I am now in Week 35. I'm praying that the anxiety stays at bay. I can only live each day at a time and imagining the future is nothing short of futile, since I have no idea what it will be like. But y'all, I feel like I hit my lowest low this past week. I just couldn't imagine being a Mama of three. Most days I'm excited, but last week, I was terrified. I don't want to go back to that feeling again.

And thus concludes a very honest post from yours truly.

Have a lovely day.

Stuck In the Middle.

2011-12-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

Our precious unborn daughter still lacks a middle name.

Poor third child. Poor, poor third child.

You see, I have a middle name that I really like. But before I share it, let me share something else: I'm kind of big on names that are easy to pronounce. Everyone has a personal preference, I understand, but I'm in the simple name camp where the spelling is original and the name is pronounceable (take, for example, "Leah" versus "Leighugh"). Easy is good.

Which brings me to my conundrum.

We have a pattern with our kids thus far where their first names are biblical names and their middle names are family names. That wasn't necessarily an intentional plan, but it's the way things have turned out and we like it. Easy. I would like to continue this trend with Lydia, too.

The family name I would like to use?

Bourgette.

It is the maiden name of my French-Canadian great-grandmother, Maria Prefontaine, who had a fascinating life story and who is, I believe, a very worthy namesake. And it is, all things considered, a bit of a difficult name to pronounce upon first glance.

("Bore-jet". But with a soft "j", almost like "bore-shet".)

So.

Does sentimentality trump easy pronounceability?

Thoughts? Opinions?

Have a lovely weekend, friends!

Advent: The Candle of Faith.

2011-12-16T00:00:00.000-08:00

This candle reminds us that Mary was chosen to be Jesus' mother because of her faith in God. Joseph, Mary's husband, had faith in God. He believed what the angel told him. When the baby was born, Joseph named Him Jesus. The shepherds had faith in God. They believed the angels, God's messengers.

In a country far from Bethlehem, in the East toward the rising sun, lived men called "Magi". "Magi" means wise men. These wise men had been studying the stars for a long time. They belonged to a religion that taught that stars could reveal the thoughts of God. Night after night, week after week, year after year, the wise men peered at the twinkling lights ... waiting and watching. Would they ever see a sign from God, they wondered?

Then one night, something very unusual happened! There was a new star in the sky! The ancient Hebrew Scripture said that one day a King would be born, a Messiah sent from God. The star would be a sign of His coming!

The Magi, who were led by the star to the Christ-child had a long, difficult journey. They did not come the same night as the shepherds, but much later. When they found the Child, God's Son, they were filled with great joy and fell down and worshipped Him! They gave him precious gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to Jesus. The Magi, by faith, believed that the child was the Messiah, God's Son.

Questions for the kiddos:

Can you think of any other great people in the Bible that were able to show that they had faith in God by their actions?

If you could give any gift to each member of your family, what would you give them?

Wednesday With a Few Words: Christmas Card Pic.

2011-12-14T00:00:00.000-08:00

Because let's face it:

Once the cheesy smile appears, trying for anything else is simply a waste of time.

('Tis the season to be three.)

Have a lovely day.

Conjunction Junction.

2011-12-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

Cub: Hey Mama, what's that?

Me: That's an ampersand, honey.

C: A what?

M: An ampersand.

C: What is a 'persand?

M: An ampersand is used in place of the word ... "and" ... in a sentence, when you, uh, don't want to write the word "and".

C: A persand is a place in a word?

M: Uh, no, it's a symbol used in place of a word. When you, um, learn to write sentences you will write the word "and" and sometimes, if you want, you can use ... an ... ampersand ...?

(Cub pauses.)

C: But does it have big muscles?

M: Yes. It has big muscles and it is very fast. It might even glow in the dark.

C: WOW! Persands are AWESOME!

You're welcome.

Have a lovely day.

Advent: Joy/Praise.

2011-12-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

Today we are celebrating the third week in Advent. This week may also be known as "Gaudete" Sunday, which is Latin for "rejoice". We first lit the candle of Hope, signifying the hope of the patriarchs of old as they anticipated the coming of the Savior, and also the hope that we hold onto today that Christ will come again. We then lit the candle of Peace, as a prayer that we might allow God's peace to rule in our hearts this season, putting aside personal differences to recognize the fullness of the celebration of Christmas morning. And today, we celebrate.

Today we will be lighting the candle of Joy.

Luke 2:8-14 says: In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christthe Lord. "This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased."

As with Peace, Joy can be difficult to find amidst the distractions and struggles we face this time of year. But, the charge from Paul to us to "rejoice in the Lord always!" remains true. Because, despite those things that stand in our way or the things that we allow to block the light of God's glory in our lives, God has given us more than enough for which to be joyful. This week, let our focus remain on what we know to be true: That God sent His only Son for us. That He broke through heaven to experience a human birth and a human life. He did not come in a blazing light of glory. He chose instead a manger as His place to begin an earthly life and He chose shepherds to celebrate His arrival. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords chose poverty. Christmas morning is a miracle. And friends, THAT is our reason for joy.

Let us pray.

We praise you God for the things You have given us for which to be joyful. Open our eyes to Your truth and fill us with Your joy as we celebrate the birth of Your Son. And we pray the psalm that says, For You, O Lord, have made me glad by what You have done, I will sing for joy at the works of your hands! You are holy and worthy to be praised. In Christ's name, Amen.

Advent: The Shepherd Candle.

2011-12-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

"Praise the Lord!

Praise God in His sanctuary;

Praise Him in His mighty expanse.

Praise Him for His mighty deeds;

Praise Him according to His excellent greatness.

Praise Him with trumpet sound;

Praise Him with harp and lyre.

Praise Him with timbrel and dancing;

Praise Him with stringed instruments and pipe.

Praise Him with loud cymbals;

Praise Him with resounding cymbals.

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord!" Psalm 150

"The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had been told to them." Luke 2:20

This candle reminds us of the importance of praising God for the wondrous things He has done for us in our lives. Under the star-filled sky, in the fields near Bethlehem, a shepherd watched over his flock. He heard the distant call of a wolf and strained his eyes in that direction, recounting his sheep to see that none were missing.

That night seemed unusually quiet, a strange quiet. Suddenly the stillness was broken by a sound like rushing wind. All the shepherds looked up and saw a figure who was different from anything they had ever seen before. All around was a great glow of light. Can you imagine how frightened they were!

What a great message of praise. "Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord!" Suddenly there were many figures, all like the first, and they were praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace to all men in whom his favor rests!"

Something for the kiddos to think about:

Would you have believed the angels' news and left your sheep in the fields?

Share with each other how you might have responded if you had been a shepherd.

The response of the shepherds is a good one for all of us to follow!

Wordless Wednesday: S'mores By The Fireplace.

2011-12-07T00:00:00.000-08:00

Fa La La La!

2011-12-06T07:03:00.001-08:00

Okay. I have tried and tried to type a succinct post about Christmas and how I'm trying to celebrate it. I've written and deleted, edited and re-edited, and finally I gave up and now a botched post is sitting idly in my saved drafts.

Then a blog post from a blogger named Jen started floating around Facebook, so I read it and took a sigh. A-ha! This witty blogger put into words what I was feeling, and then some.

This past summer, my sister-in-law shared an idea her family was doing for Christmas when it came to purchasing gifts for their kiddos:

1) Something they want

2) Something they need

3) Something to give to others

I loved the idea and my husband and I agreed to follow those rules for our own kids this year. If people are pepper-spraying each other for X-Boxes on Black Friday, surely we can help reign things in a bit.

Christmastime always presents a bit of an issue for me because of the balance we try to strike with making it "all about Jesus" and also buying lots of gifts and writing letters to Santa, the guy who doesn't actually exist. I've tried to figure out how I could do both. I didn't grow up doing the "Santa thing", so I'm really just terrible at it, but a lot of people I know do it and seem to have no issue with it, so I've given it a fair amount of thought and I've still managed to come up empty. The only ideas I can drum up are to add more nativities, talk about Jesus a lot, light lots of Advent wreaths, go to a lot of Christmas Eve services, read the Christmas story a million times before Christmas Day ... and then I can do the other stuff, too, right? Because I've done a good job of telling my kids what Christmas is "really" about, right?

And then I realized that all I'm doing is a lot of works, basically, and missing the point entirely.

So, no Santa for us. (If you love Santa and love doing Santa, I am in no way saying you are wrong or horrible or whatever. It's just that I can't do it. But that doesn't mean you can't!)

Read this post and tell me what you think. Really, read it before you comment. She says a lot of what I can't seem to articulate.

Have a lovely day.

Two Easy Lunch Ideas.

2011-12-05T00:00:00.002-08:00

Do you ever get stuck in a food rut with your kids? This seems to happen to me periodically. I'll be on a roll with menu planning and then all of the sudden I'll sit down to write out a menu for the week and I totally draw a blank. What do my kids like again? What should I buy?

If this ever happens to you and you need some inspiration, here are two of my favorite lunches to do with the kids. The first one is super easy: Peanut Butter and Honey Roll-Ups. Just spread peanut/almond/whatever butter on a tortilla, then spread some honey on top. Roll it tightly and voila! Easy and yummy (and slightly neater than a sandwich). I slice it for Naomi, since she only has two teeth. Poor little kid.

Another lunch idea is English Muffin Pizzas. My Mom did this for us as kids and I loved it then and I love it now! It's totally easy. Take some whole wheat English muffins (I like Rudi's) and toast them in the toaster, or warm them in an oven heated to 350. Spread a dab of pizza sauce on each half, and then top with whatever you'd like (we prefer slices of fresh mozzarella). Put them back in the oven for ten minutes or so to let the cheese melt and there you have it! Instant personal pizzas. Yum.

Have a lovely day!

Not One Of Them Is Missing.

2011-12-05T00:00:00.001-08:00

Whenever this time of year rolls around, my thoughts go to the miscarriage my husband and I experienced four years ago. It happened a week and a half before Christmas. We all have our own story when it comes to pregnancy or fertility. Today I felt prompted to share mine.

My husband and I had been trying to get pregnant for almost a year. It seemed like everyone around us had no trouble getting pregnant within one or two months and I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt a little that conception didn't seem quite as easy for us. But I was genuinely happy for those around us. When we finally found out we were pregnant, we didn't tell anyone and kept it our own little secret. I felt gloriously exhausted.

For about two weeks.

One day I woke up, and I wasn't tired. I can't explain it, but that "feeling" had vanished. I didn't think much about it and went about my normal day, grabbing some coffee and heading to work. While at work that morning, the miscarriage began. I was really shaken up and didn't know what to do. I called the doctor, crying, as my boss stood next to me and patted my back. They told me to go to the emergency room, so I did. Once I got to the emergency room, the blood test showed I was pregnant, but the urine test showed I was not. My husband held my hand as the doctor explained that I was in the process of miscarrying.

The next hour was hard. I know specificities can be uneasy, but there was a lot of pain and a lot of blood--something I wasn't expecting. It's amazing how our bodies begin to rapidly prepare to carry a child at the point of conception and what happens in our bodies when all of that is undone is hard, to say the least. I didn't know why it was happening, but God gave me the greatest sense of peace through it, even though the following weeks and months were some of my hardest.

I can only speak from my experience in saying that miscarrying our first baby was devastating. I hadn't ever been pregnant before and now my only experience with pregnancy had ended abruptly and harshly. When I found out I was pregnant with Cub just two months later (it was a complete surprise), I was completely unprepared and terrified. I wasn't overjoyed. I wasn't excited. I just knew in my heart that this pregnancy would end early, too. I was twenty weeks along before I allowed myself to believe that maybe he might be okay.

The hardest part was hearing people say that "thankfully" I was "only" six weeks along when I miscarried. Walking through any life-changing experience, be it miscarriage, pregnancy, marriage, or what have you, typically warrants a good deal of unsolicited advice and comments and I feel convicted to accept such advice and comments with grace, even if they make me cringe. But I'm going to go ahead and say that if you've never miscarried, never tell a woman that it's a good thing she wasn't very far along. A woman who is six weeks pregnant is "just as" pregnant as a woman who is thirty weeks pregnant. Pregnancy is pregnancy, regardless of how far along you are. If you believe life begins at conception, then a life is lost no matter what.

There are a lot of unknowns that surround a spontaneous miscarriage. What I do know is that the experience has given me a softened heart towards those who go through the same thing. Here we are with two children and one on the way and I know that I do not understand infertility--I don't know what it is like to try for years with no answer. But I know what it's like to wonder and I know what it's like to have a much-anticipated moment disappear, beyond your control. It doesn't take a miscarriage for someone to understand that life is truly a miracle, but I know my own life was changed because of it.

For those of you who have walked through a miscarriage, you have my truest sympathy.

Lift up your eyes on high

And see Who has created these stars,

the One who leads forth their host by number,

He calls them all by name;

Because of the greatness of His might

and the strength of His power ...

... not one of them is missing.

Isaiah 40:26

Have a lovely day, friends.

Advent: Peace.

2011-12-04T00:00:00.000-08:00

Today we are celebrating the second week in Advent. The word "Advent" means "arrival" or "coming". We use the wreath to prepare and ready ourselves for Christmas morning. The evergreen represents the life that can be given through Christ alone and the roundness of the wreath signifies that that life is everlasting. The lit candles remind us that Christ is the light of the world. While the tradition of the Advent wreath dates back to the 1600's, its significance still stands even today, in traditional and non-traditional services alike, as Christians come together to recognize the importance of bringing our focus back to the miracle of Christmas morning.

Today we will light the candle of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6--"For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace."

For some of us, Christmas is a time to gather with family and loved ones. But, also for some of us, Christmas is a difficult time, through family crises or differences that have grown between us and loved ones throughout the years. And, sometimes the memories surrounding this season are just difficult. This week is a significant week in Advent because it focuses on the truth that Christ is the Prince ofPeace. We are encouraged to put aside differences and focus on peace--to focus on reconciliation--and to truly allow the peace of Christ to rule in our hearts. Christ's birth happened in the middle of great civil unrest, when the prayer for peace cried out throughout the country from God's people. And today we continue to pray for that peace--within our homes and around the world.

Let us pray.

Lord, make us your instruments of peace. Where there is hatred let us sow love, where there is injury, pardon, Where there is despair, hope, where there is darkness, light, and where there is sadness, joy. Oh, Divine Spirit, grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. Let us focus on your peace and remember Your words that say 'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.' In Christ's name, Amen.

Advent: The Angel Candle.

2011-12-02T00:00:00.000-08:00

'"Behold, I am going to send My messenger, and he will clear the way before Me. And the Lord, whom you seek, will suddenly come to His temple; and the messenger of the covenant, in whom you delight, behold, He is coming,' says the Lord of hosts." Malachi 3:1

"Now the birth of Jesus Christ was as follows: When His mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit. And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man and not wanting to disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly. But when he had considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the Child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a Son; and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.'" Matthew 1:18-21

This candle reminds us of the great joy we have because God loved us so much that He sent Jesus to be our Savior. Mary was alone one day, or at least she thought she was alone, when suddenly she heard a voice. "Greetings, you are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

Startled, Mary turned to see who had spoken. Standing before her was no ordinary person, but an angel, a messenger from God Himself! Mary was afraid. But the angel said, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God."

The Lord was going to send His Son into the world, and Mary was chosen to be His mother! What great news! What joy! Mary believed that what was happening to her was God's way of remembering the promise He had made to the people of Israel, to Abraham and all the rest. God loved the world so much that He sent Jesus. Knowing about God's love and forgiveness in our lives fills us with joy!

Something for kiddos to think about:

Imagine how Mary must have thought when she received the angel's message. Talk about it together. Share with members of your family how you came to know the Lord as your personal Savior. Share how your life is different today because of that decision.

They Call Him Mr. Personality.

2011-12-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that I would be perfectly fine if Cub decided to stay three years old forever.

This age is seriously hilarious.

Caleb's latest gig includes very specifically expressing his emotions. Some examples:

(Head hanging low.)

"I am sad. I am sad because I do not get to have another cookie. That's why I am sad."

"I am sad. I am sad because I do not want to go to bed. That's why I am sad."

(Wrapping his arms around my neck.)

"Mama! I'm just so glad to see you! I am happy!"

(Spinning in circles.)

"Look at me! I'm so silly!"

(In Hobby Lobby.)

"We can get in the cart and look at the Christmas trees and it will be SO MUCH FUN! Yes! Yes it will!"

It cracks us up. His need to over-explain everything is really quite precious. He goes into great detail describing his latest endeavor, be it looking at lights on the Christmas tree or finding his shoes. When we're eating dinner he will sit quietly eating his meal and suddenly declare, "Two more bites! All I need to take is two more bites and then I can get down and go into my room and play with my toys and you can come with me and we will find my trains and it will be so much fun!"

He has also become a master negotiator.

Me: "Caleb, bed time in five minutes."

Caleb: "Hmm. Bed time in five minutes, or ten minutes? How about ten minutes?"

Me: "Two minutes." (ha ha)

He is working hard on being "very kind". Dealing with a little sister who gets into everything (Everything! EVERYTHING!) can be tricky, especially when you are slightly anal like our little guy. We explain that if Naomi takes one of Cub's toys while he is playing with it, all he needs to do is politely ask for it back. Nine times out of ten, Naomi will toddle back to Cub and give him the toy with no problem (she's a mess, but a polite mess). However, Cub has found that running to his sister and yanking the toy out of her hand is much more efficient and when I catch him doing so, he quickly calls out, "I'm being kind, Mama! I'm being kind!"

We're still working on it. :)

He really actually is kind and those moments are incredibly sweet. If Naomi is crying in the car, he sings songs to her to help her calm down (and it works!). If she gets hurt, he hugs her and kisses her head and says, "It's okay Naomi. You're going to be okay." He loves to help out and feel important. His imagination has totally taken off. He collects his toys and gives them names (Mama, Dadda, George) and they eat sandwiches for dinner and then go to sleep. For days he walked around with a box of marbles, shushing us and whispering, "They are sleeping. They are very tired." Yes. Marbles need their rest.

Of course, three wouldn't be three without the occasional fit (accompanied by "I am angry.") and he's learning to control his emotions and use his words. Sometimes his response is that he doesn't want to. "I don't want to be kind." Then we tell him that it's hard to be kind, and that maybe we should pray and ask God for the strength to be kind. Watching him grow and learn is wonderful and heart-wrenching at the same time.

Of course, I know he can't stay three forever. But I'm glad I have almost a year until he turns four.

Wordless Wednesday: 'Tis The Season.

2011-11-30T00:00:00.000-08:00

Au Naturale.

2011-11-28T00:00:00.000-08:00

I've asked this question several times on my blog, several times on Facebook, several times to people I know, several times to people I do not know ... you get the idea. The possibility of doing childbirth with no meds (what I will refer to as "natural", even though I'm not sure if that is the appropriate term) has been lingering in my mind for a few months now and I think I've decided that I want to do it.

I would say I want to "try" it, but I'm afraid going in with a "try" attitude won't cut it. I think I need to be resolute. And I am.

I think.

I have no huge agenda. I have no bias. This decision is one that is simply based on experience. Behold: I was dilated to a 7 with Cub, feeling great, and was totally sure I could go all the way without an epidural. I initially thought for sure I would get one, but because the pain was manageable, I was okay without. Then the doctor told me that Cub (who was sunny side up) had not flipped over and that maybe I should consider that epidural. So, I did. And Cub slowly flipped while I pushed, which resulted in a four-hour pushing marathon. Whee! I'm glad I had that epidural (or whatever was left of it by the time he was actually born).

Then there is the birth of sweet Naomi. I chose to be induced because I was Strep B positive and had been dilated for two weeks (I was a three the week of my induction). It was "easy" in the sense that we simply packed up, went to the hospital at the scheduled time, enjoyed a sleepover in the hospital, and by 1:00 the next day (after only five glorious minutes of pushing), there she was! Easy!

Both of the experiences were precious and perfect because they resulted in the birth of our children. I do not regret any decision and would not change a thing.

However.

If I had to compare the two experiences physically, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that my experience with Cub was the better physical experience (the labor, not the pushing). I knew what my body was doing and I was able to respond, with lots of help from my husband, and it was incredible. Don't get me wrong--any birth decision is a highly sensitive, completely personal choice and women have the right to choose what they want to do, including induction. I'm just saying that in my own, personal experience, going into labor naturally was the better experience for me. I think, too, that women have different pain tolerances--just because I "made it" to a 7 with Cub doesn't necessarily mean I handled pain better--maybe what I felt was the equivalent of what some women feel at a 3. It isn't fair to compare experiences. I don't believe that because you want to have a baby naturally that you are trying to prove anything. I'm not. I think the parenting that follows childbirth is enormously more important, with more to prove. Being a good Mom is a challenge all its own. I would not be doing this to prove anything, except that I can do it. Does that make sense?

Now. There are so many variables. Lydia is still breech and if she remains so as her due date draws nearer, it will present all kinds of different issues. I am completely open to whatever needs to be done. Only if she has flipped and everything is normal, will I do natural childbirth.

I have a friend who has graciously offered to be my doula. I'm beginning my research and my reading. My husband is having a harder time because he hates to see me in pain, but he supports the decision and has agreed to be in the trenches with me. I will give birth at my hospital, with my doctor (or whoever is on call).

So, that's it, friends. Those are the thoughts running through my head.

Now, I would love to hear the opinions of my readers. If you planned and experienced natural childbirth, what did you think? I want to clarify, too, that by "planned and experienced natural childbirth" I mean that you went into it with a plan and followed through. If you accidentally had the baby naturally because there wasn't enough time to get the epidural, I can imagine that would be completely horrible, since you had no time to prepare for the experience! You can definitely share that, too, if you'd like, but I would think that going into it with a plan would be a different experience than having it happen on accident. But, maybe I'm wrong!

I am imagining lots of pain, lots of begging for my epidural, possibly some naughty words, and, well, a healthy baby. That's the end goal.

Have a lovely day.

Advent: Hope.

2011-11-27T00:00:00.000-08:00

The purpose of Advent is to draw our hearts towards the celebration and significance of the miracle of the birth of Christ. We pause to prepare our minds, attitudes, and our hearts in anticipation of Christmas morning—and in anticipation that Christ will come again. In the midst of the chaos surrounding this holiday, we stop, still our bodies, and listen, until all is silent … and in the silence we strain to hear it—the cry of a newborn in the darkness. And in the quiet we absorb the miracle and remember that God pierced the stillness and shook the earth through that tiny cry. As the cry pierced the stillness, God’s light pierced the darkness, and we see that light as we light each candle.

Today we will be lighting the candle of Hope.

Isaiah 7:14 “Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son, and she will call His name Immanuel.”

As the patriarchs of old hoped for the coming of a Savior, we now hope for Christ’s second coming. We believe in the prophecy fulfilled and believe that Christ will come again. We all hope. We all need hope. In a time of war, economic uncertainty, and a future unknown, we rest in the hope that God will again keep His promise in the coming of a Savior, as He did thousands of years ago.

Let us pray.

Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when He shall come again in His glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through Him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. In Christ's name, Amen.

Advent: The Prophecy Candle

2011-11-25T00:00:00.000-08:00

"For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us;

and the government will rest on His shoulders;

And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Eternal Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6

"Now in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city in Galilee called Nazareth..." Luke 1:26

The "Promise Foretold" candle. This candle reminds us of all the promises God gave to His people many years before the birth of Christ. The days before the first Christmas were a time of waiting, too. In Israel where the first Christmas happened nearly two thousand years ago, people waited for Christmas. They did not know as you and I do, exactly what they were waiting for. There had never been a Christmas before! But they knew God had promised that He would send them a Messiah, a King. They knew that the men called prophets who spoke for God, had said God would send a Messiah.

A child would be born, said the prophet Isaiah. He would be called, "Wonderful, Counselor, the Prince of Peace". The people accepted the word of Isaiah as the promise from God. They knew God would keep His promise. But when would the Messiah come? And who would He be?

Questions for kids:

What are some promises others have made to you this year and kept?

How did you feel when they kept their promise?

What are some promises God has made to us?

What's most important to you at Christmas?

(Have a lovely day!)

Happy Thanksgiving, Friends. :)

2011-11-24T06:38:00.001-08:00

Wordful Wednesday.

2011-11-23T09:25:00.000-08:00

One word: Oy.

Two words: I'm tired.

Three words: To-do list.

Four words: Not getting done quickly.

Five words: Kids want their grandparents now.

Six words: Will I get anything accomplished today?

Seven words: Not if I sit at the computer.

Eight words: It's time to get my rear in gear.

Nine words: Clean car, corral kids, finish food, and pack clothes.

Ten words: I think I can I think I can I ...

One word: Can.

(Happy Thanksgiving, friends.)

Who Splits The Wishbone?

2011-11-22T05:14:00.000-08:00

I just rolled out of bed and my hair looks CRAZY. EEK. My Thanksgiving to-do list is long and today we delve into it, so let the fun begin! I figured while I had a few minutes to myself (between waking up and fixing this bird's nest on my head) I would write something.

Hm.

So ... let's see ... Thanksgiving-ish post ... ah!

What is your favorite Thanksgiving tradition?

Does Grandma always roast the turkey? Does your uncle always fall asleep on the couch during the football game? Is there one special dish that MUST make it to the table or blood will be shed?

This is our year to spend Thanksgiving with my in-laws and my favorite tradition at their house is Thanksgiving Bunco. I have to admit, I hadn't ever heard of Bunco until I started dating my husband (nine years ago, WOW) and somehow I've managed to move up the ranks to becoming the Bunco Name Card Maker this year. Thanksgivings are always big at their house (there are twenty this year and that's with a significant chunk of the family being out of town) and it's fun to see everyone, from the youngest to the eldest, get into the game, hoping for the glory and fame that accompanies every "BUNCO!" Way fun.

My favorite dish is sweet potato casserole and dressing/stuffing. And mashed potatoes. And fried turkey (my husband fries a mean turkey!). All mixed together. Carb-a-licious comfort food at its finest.

Those are my favorite traditions. How about you?

Time to go tame this hair and hit the grocery store.

Have a lovely day!

The Advent Wreath.

2011-11-21T00:00:00.000-08:00

Okay. I am not bypassing Thanksgiving and jumping into Christmas, but I realized that the Sunday after Thanksgiving marks the beginning of Advent, so I figured I would go ahead and write a post about Advent wreaths, in case you are interested in doing one this year. That way you have plenty of time to get it ready before Sunday while still having time to perfect your stuffing and roast your turkey. Or dump your cranberry sauce from a can. Woot!

So. What is an Advent Wreath? Traditionally, it is an evergreen wreath holding/surrounding four pillar candles (sometimes five). Here is one I made a few years ago:

Each candle represents a different aspect of Advent. The word "Advent" means "arrival", so the candles are typically Hope, Joy, Peace, and Love; however, that can change depending on tradition/liturgy/preference. For a more kid-friendly version, the candles represent things like Bethlehem, shepherds, and angels and follows the Christmas story. A candle is lit every Sunday in Advent (four candles for four Sundays), and in newer tradition, a fifth candle is lit on Christmas Morning. This would be especially appropriate this year, since Christmas is on a Sunday morning! Each candle lighting is accompanied by a brief reading and prayer. In my family, it's a great way to anticipate Christmas morning, keeping in mind the actual reason for Christmas, amidst parties and shopping and chaos and such.

That's it! Very simple, yet poignant.

There are several ways to make an Advent Wreath. When I was a kid, we would use real evergreen and stuff it into a styrofoam ring. Now I just use a store-bought wreath and place the taper candles inside of it. Some people ditch the evergreen and use walnuts, ornaments, or twigs instead, but I'm a bit of a traditionalist and like that the evergreen represents everlasting life. It's totally up to you, though--you can be as creative as you'd like!

For the readings, I have two kinds. One is a collection that I partly wrote, partly assembled from other sources (a more grown-up version), and another is the booklet we used when I was a kid (a more kid-friendly version). Every year on this blog I post the grown-up readings each Sunday of Advent and last year I received several emails from friends saying that they found it helpful, so I'm going to do that again this year. And, since my kids are older and this blog is really about doing things that are kid-friendly, I'm going to post the kid-friendly readings (I still have the pamphlet, circa 1991!) every Friday. So, if you're looking for a place to do kid-friendly readings, just check here on Friday and you'll be good to go on Sunday. Or, you can just read Sunday's for a more "grown-up" version!

Disclaimer: The Sunday readings are a compilation of my own writing plus the writings of others. I used different sources and forgot to cite them (I'm a college graduate, I promise) so I'm apologizing now for the lack of proper citation.

I hope that made sense. :)

And that's it!

Have a lovely day.

Motherhood: Staying Home.

2011-11-18T12:13:00.001-08:00

I remember hearing someone say once that the more you stay home, the more you want to be there, and the less you are home, the less you want to be there. The statement was in reference to stay-at-home Moms and our sometimes uncanny ability to be everywhere but at home. There are always errands to run, activities to join, and really, let's be honest ... sometimes we go because we just have to get out! Sonic, Starbucks, or a drive through the park. Sometimes being gone is the little breather we need to finish out the rest of our day, while the kids are strapped in the back!

But besides the necessary driving-to-refocus breaks, I've noticed that the statement is true. The busier I am, the less I want to be home. What I mean by that is, when I've had a few days of go-go-go, I come home and feel like I don't quite know what to do. My home isn't any different than it was the day before, or the day before that, and yet I feel a little helpless and discombobulated. That's when the urge to jump in the car and go somewhere--anywhere--hits again, and while I find comfort behind the wheel, I come home to that same awkward feeling.

However, if I really focus on staying home and don't let my mind wander to the great beyond that lies outside our front door (that usually requires spending money, eek), I find that I really enjoy being home. I love doing fun things with the kids while we're out and about, but I've grown to realize that the best way to fill their love tanks is to just be home with them, spending one-on-one time in the environment they know the best. Oftentimes while we're gallavanting around, their behavior can be notably different. That's when I know we've just been away too long. When we're home and I actually make the effort to sit on the floor and dedicate good chunks of time to playing with them, their response is undeniable. They're more relaxed, they're more imaginative, and I can just tell that they're all-around happier. I have great memories of Disneyland and Sea World as a kid, but the memories of playing Breyer horses on the living room floor with my Mom rank just as highly in my book.

This is a challenge for me sometimes because I don't sit still very well. Ask my husband--I'm that obnoxious person who asks questions during movies and who loves to be on the go. If the kids are playing well by themselves, I use that time to do laundry, wipe the countertops, vacuum, etc. Don't get me wrong--the ability to play alone is hugely important, but sometimes I think I take advantage of it. I love being attentive to my kids, but I've noticed a difference between being conveniently attentive and intentionally attentive. When that urge to "get out" comes, I find that I'm dissatisfied and snappy if I can't, and a lot of the time if I do answer the urge and leave, I'm not really any more satisfied than when I left. But if I push those thoughts out of my head and join the kids in their play, I am quickly reminded of how much I really love spending time with them. I'm reminded that their obedience and behavior are not my primary responsibilities as a parent, but that they are to feel loved and secure and valued--that they were created lovingly down to every last detail. That inner sense of worth is priceless. Obedience, without it, just makes a robot.

So, here's to staying home, and the challenge it can be to sometimes actually do it. :)

Have a lovely day.

Love: Sweet Syrup

2011-11-18T08:05:00.001-08:00

We eat breakfast with my grandfather-in-law once a week and today I walked in to find a bottle of real Vermont Maple Syrup, just for me. He prefers pancake syrup, but he knows I prefer the real stuff. It was such a sweet and unexpected gesture! It's the little things. Love.

Crazy Number Two.

2011-11-17T00:00:00.000-08:00

When I was pregnant with Naomi, I remember hearing several comments from Moms noting the personality difference between their firstborn and their second-born. The firstborn, they would say, was compliant and obedient and easy. Their second-born ... not so much. Wild thing.

I, of course, as a new Mom, nodded in agreement but secretly scoffed at that idea, figuring that my firstborn's personality (which was compliant and obedient and easy) had more to do with, well, upbringing, then anything else. I mean, I worked hard to be a good Mom, so some of that was paying off, right? So then, surely my second-born would be similar, with *obviously* a different personality.

Sure enough, Miss Mouse came into our lives with a grand cry. She was a noisy newborn, but also an excellent eater and fairly easygoing. She was easy. I was proud.

After a few months, the easiness disappeared. She woke up.

She was fussy. She was high-maintenance. She had what we think was colic. She woke up several times a night for a few months for no apparent reason. I saw myself as a champion of breastfeeding and happily doled out advice to Moms regarding it after Cub was born, and now I found myself faced with the choice to wean my daughter before I felt either of us were ready, because of a milk allergy (I held out for four months, weaned her, and cried for three days). Everything I "knew" about being a Mom to an infant flew straight out the window and I found myself in an absolute tizzy.

I soon realized that the biggest challenge was simply learning a new personality--the methods that had worked with Cub did not necessarily work for Mouse, but some of them did. Trying to figure out this new little person was half the battle. Boundaries had to be set and they lay in different places than they did with big brother.

In my mind, I heard the words of those Moms who had said their firstborn had made them confident ... and their second-born had made them humble. And oh my word, I laughed because, in my case, they were totally right. Obviously, there are exceptions to the rule, but they were dead-on in my situation! I found myself humbled more and more, looking through grace-colored lenses at my fellow Moms. Simply becoming a Mom had made me understanding to other Moms, but becoming a Mom again opened my heart even more. It was so good for me.

Despite the trickiness, there was spunk. Naomi was a difficult infant, but she was also gloriously delightful. Watching her grow has been nothing short of one amusing ride. When she's happy, she absolutely lights up the room. She cracks us up with her antics, putting on our shoes, eating wood chips, chasing the chickens, and dancing every time she hears music. Her laugh is infectious and her cuteness just kills us. She's rough and tumble but is always gesturing for me to put bows in her hair. She loves dirt and (pretend) lip gloss. Even though she's stubborn, she's sensitively sweet, and when she gets in trouble it melts her world and she hates disappointing us. Once we began to learn her personality and her quirks, we fell into a groove the same way we did with Cub. I realized I had basically given birth to myself, which honestly helped us figure her out! Naomi is by far our spunky pumpkin, but she's a great kid. Our kids, who have totally different personalities, delight us just the same. We can't imagine loving them more.

I sat down to write this as Naomi shuffled by me wearing my TOMS, pushing her brother's new bike. She stopped, looked up at me and smiled, and went on her merry way, her head bobbing back and forth, the bow perched atop it starting to fall. There will no doubt be a mess wherever she stopped and chances are my TOMS will be missing for at least two days. But the joy, the absolute joy of her, is overwhelming.

These are the things I want to remember as we introduce yet a third personality to the bunch. May grace abound.

Just some thoughts today. :)

Have a lovely day.

Wordless Wednesday: I Love Fall Mornings.

2011-11-16T00:00:00.000-08:00

Even Bathroom Breaks Are Accompanied By Little Hands Knocking.

2011-11-15T00:00:00.000-08:00

I sneak in a quick shower before the kiddos are up.

The breakfast show gets up and running and both are fed. I call the doctor because Naomi is congested and hoarse.

Help with shoes and boots and dressing and diapers and pottying and etc.

Loading in the van. Buckling, adjusting, toy-distributing. Sippy cups, check.

Trip to the grocery store.

Trip to the doctor. Just a cold.

Drive-thru lunch.

Naomi falls asleep in the car and gets put down at home.

Cub and I eat lunch and play a game.

Cub goes down for a nap.

I organize our pantries and chop the peppers and chicken for fajitas for dinner.

I sit down on the couch and Naomi promptly wakes up.

I feed Naomi lunch.

I attempt to make pumpkin spice muffins while Mouse plays at my feet.

The muffins are an epic fail and all I have to show for them is a pile of dishes.

Cub wakes up.

I put both kids in shoes, grab some paperwork, head out the door.

More loading, buckling, adjusting, toy-distributing. Sippy cups, check.

I drop paperwork off, run to Target.

Zoom through Target with a brief pause to check out the Christmas trees with a wide-eyed Cub.

Come home, unload Target purchases, walk to the end of our loooong driveway to retrieve our huge trash can and roll it back. In the rain.

I let the chickens out, collect eggs, and head inside to clean dishes from the muffins.

Dishes get done, time to start dinner.

I start dinner while two hungry kiddos observe and occasionally beg.

We sit down to dinner and my legs ache from not sitting for a long time.

Prayer, chatting, nudging to take more bites. Crumbs on the floor, on the table, on the Mouse.

Dadda comes home as we finish up.

I run and give him the biggest hug and tell him I'm so glad he's home.

While he eats dinner, Naomi bonks her head and comes running to me for comfort.

She cries so hard she throws up on me.

I change her and myself.

I load the dishwasher and wash the remaining dinner dishes by hand.

My husband puts her to bed as I pick up a few wayward toys.

All with a 30-Week pregnant-for-the-third-time-in-three-years belly. My body is beside itself.

My husband is now playing with Cub while I sit down for ten minutes by myself to type this post.

One word to describe motherhood?

Constant.

The good, the bad, the busy.

Have a lovely day.

Love: Little Mouse On the Prairie.

2011-11-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

Drawing A Blank.

2011-11-10T00:00:00.000-08:00

I'm staring at the computer, trying to come up with a clever topic about which to write, and my brain is coming up empty. I mean, I try to have at least ONE substantial post a week, one that involves thought and personality and such, but this week, I'm drawing a blank.

...

Which, I suppose, could be a post in and of itself. The Pregnancy Blank, where all rational thought processes are concealed beneath an imaginary sheet of white, and when the brain attempts to pull such thought processes, all it sees is the white. If I'm not careful, my eyes will cross and I will begin to drool.

This pregnancy bit, it's really all-consuming. I look back on my posts as of late and most of them have to do with the baby. So then I think, I should write a post about my favorite current styles and such, something refreshingly shallow. But what would those styles be? MATERNITY. Cool. Not really. Then I thought, what's my favorite make-up? I don't know, because my face is always red and blotchy whilst pregnant (sexy, right?). What about my current favorite music? Ehh ... Fisher Price Christmas lullabies?

It just seems like I'm quite immersed in this baby-and-toddler stage of life.

I mean, I'm not totally irrelevant. I wear (maternity) skinny jeans and chunky jewelry and carry a fancy-schmancy (diaper) bag and I shower, sometimes, and, you know, I'm sure I look awesome in that white MINIVAN in which I cruise around town. I haven't completely let myself "go" (well, except for the minivan, with dreams of owning that coveted Toyota Sequoia), but every time I sit down at the computer to write, it is the things of baby that come to mind.

...

So, that being said, can anyone recommend a good facial moisturizer? I mean, next year is my last year in my twenties, so it seems like maybe I need to use some sort of you're-getting-older facial moisturizer. Do I? Uh, but it has to be cheap. Like, Target cheap.

Do you like how this post has absolutely nothing to do with anything related to facial moisturizer? Until the very end?

That's about right, folks. That's about the level at which I am functioning.

Have a lovely day, friends.

Wordless Wednesday: There She Grows!

2011-11-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

Because Butter and Brown Sugar Were Made For Each Other.

2011-11-08T00:00:00.000-08:00

A slightly tweaked recipe from a friend. Tweaked because I just used what I had in my pantry :).

2/3 cup butter
2 cups packed brown sugar
2 eggs
2 T hot water
2 2/3 cups flour (I used 2 cups wheat flour, 2/3 cup bread flour)
1 t baking powder
1 t baking soda
1/4 t salt
1 bag chocolate chips (I used white)

Mix wet, mix dry, mix both, bake for 8-10 minutes at 375.

Have a lovely day!

Intuition!

2011-11-07T00:00:00.000-08:00

When I was pregnant with Cub, I knew he was a boy. Instantly. I had no idea what his name would be (my husband named him later on in the pregnancy), but I sure knew there was a little guy in there. I don't know how or why, but my instinct? intuition? something? told me I had a son on the way. I was confidently confident and, well, I just knew.

With Mouse, I had no idea. None at all, but I hoped she was a girl. Yes, I hoped for a specific gender. Is that bad? I'm the little sister to a big brother, so I think I just naturally hoped my second would be a little lady, since I understand that kind of sibling dynamic. I think it goes without saying that if Baby Number Two had been a boy, we would have been madly in love with him the way we're madly in love with all of our kids, and the brother dynamic would be just as awesome. But, we were thrilled when we found out that there was a little sister in there.

With this pregnancy, as soon as I took the test, I patted my stomach and said, "It's Lydia." The next few days were spent in a bit of a blur, with some crying and almost-passing-out-from-pregnancy-shock and such, but amidst it all my gut just told me that this baby was a girl and that girl was Lydia. We had an early ultrasound and the doctor thought it could be a boy, but I was doubtful, even though, truthfully, the thought of two boys was easier for me to handle than the thought of two girls (crazy, I know!). I wanted a later ultrasound to know for sure (which ended up being quite a feat--Lydia is quite a bashful little pea!) and sure enough, the doctor gave us 90% certainty that our baby was a little lady. And, of course, we're thrilled. I realize that the ultrasound could be wrong and my gut could be wrong, too, but I'll be surprised if it is!

What about you? Did you have a gender inkling during your pregnancy?

Have a lovely day, friends!

Shakey-Shake.

2011-11-05T06:16:00.000-07:00

Good Morning!

I am writing to you in my pajamas with really awful bedhead on this Saturday morning to bring you some breaking news. We had an earthquake here at 2:00 this morning. In OKLAHOMA. Some people (including our kids) totally slept through it, a trait of which I am jealous. I'm a light sleeper.

Anyway.

It registered as a 4.7, which, if you grew up with earthquakes, you know it isn't huge but it isn't insignificant, either.

In OKLAHOMA.

OKLAHOMA. Where the tornadoes come sweeping down the plains. NOT earthquakes.

Anyway. After the shaking stopped, I sat in bed with flashbacks of my brother and I clamoring down the stairs during earthquakes as a kid in California, stumbling outside with our parents to stand under our front outside doorway and watch the driveway ripple and the trees shake. I'd be okay with it not ever happening again!

That is all.

Have a lovely weekend, friends.

(Oh, and I passed the glucose test. Yay! Bring on the sweet potato casserole!)

Sugary Yuck.

2011-11-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

I'm taking my glucose test today.

Pity, anyone? Empathy?

Have a great weekend, friends!

Fretful.

2011-11-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of those days where every problem or fear seemed like a larger version of itself than necessary. I found myself feeling heavy with worry about the upcoming holidays (money to spend on Christmas presents for a lot of people), the upcoming baby addition (THREE CHILDREN ... sometimes it just feels impossible!), and just the day-to-day responsibilities of being an adult.

I could feel my face becoming fretful. Pouty and frustrated, brow furrowed, mouth set. My Mom tells me I have an excellent fretful face and I believe her now after seeing myself in my children--Cub's fretful face is dead on! It ain't pretty. After putting the kids down for naps, I milled around our kitchen, dark from open windows on a cloudy day, and my mind raced with worry while my heart continued to sink and my brow continued to furrow. I turned on my Pandora radio (set to Norah Jones) while I dumped the chicken stock from the stove into the crock-pot. As I mindlessly pieced through the chicken, I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. My worry had decided to manifest itself through weepiness, something I do not particularly appreciate, and I took a deep breath. A heavy sigh, really.

The kitchen filled with an ominous silence as the previous song ended, and I stood there, staring at my chicken stock through blurry eyes, frustrated with myself for being frustrated.

And then, softly, chords from an acoustic piano began. I recognized them immediately, and realized that Pandora had randomly started playing a piano version of "Be Still My Soul". I blinked through my wet eyes and turned up the song, letting its peaceful melody fill through the room.

Be still my soul: The Lord is on thy side.

Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.

Leave to thy God to order and provide;

In every change, He faithful will remain.

Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend

Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

"Leave to thy God to order and provide; in every change, He faithful will remain."

I just want to say that I am thankful that God wasn't subtle with His desire for me to calm down and set my worry aside. Sometimes I just need a big, obvious reminder, and He sure came through yesterday.

The song played through while I stood in the kitchen, eyes closed, drinking it in. After it faded, I stood there for a moment and turned the music back down as Jack Johnson came on singing about banana pancakes. The hymn had been so beautifully random.

That's all I've got today, friends. I hope you have a lovely day.

The Thanksgiving Tree.

2011-11-02T00:00:00.000-07:00

You might remember my post about a Thanksgiving Tree last year...can you believe it's that time of year again? I can't! Here's a little refresher on the Thanksgiving Tree if you're interested in doing it with your family!

A sweet friend of mine shared this idea with me a while ago, and I'm happy to pass it on.

Firstly, you take fall-ish colored construction paper or cardstock and cut out enough "leaves" to represent each day from November 1 until Thanksgiving Day (this year Thanksgiving falls on November 24th, so you would cut out 24 leaves). Since I used cardstock, I used the first leaf as my template.

Poke a hole in each leaf and feed a piece of string or twine through.

Create a "tree" using a large stick or a bundle of sticks. I have a dried twisted hibiscus I'm using this year. You can either attach all of the leaves now or attach them one at a time. Cub wanted to help me this year, so we went ahead and put all of the blank leaves on our tree.

Every morning, write what you are thankful for on a leaf.

It's an easy way to focus on the poignancy of a thankful heart, and to teach it to our kiddos at a young age. We kept our leaves from last year and plan to continue keeping them--it's so fun to look back!

Plus, it's a great fall decoration. :)

Have a lovely day, friends.

Twinkle, Twinkle.

2011-11-01T00:00:00.000-07:00

The kids' grandparents took a trip to Washington, D.C. a few months ago and I received a text from their G-Ma saying that she was at the Smithsonian and saw the cutest astronaut jumpsuit costume there and would we possibly want it for Halloween?

Well of course we would!

Ever since we watched the space shuttle launch, Cub loves to talk about how "the space shuttle went WAY HIGH in the SKY!" And, one of the best parts of being a parent is having the ability to play off of your children's obsessions, so I was more than excited for Cub to be an astronaut for Halloween. Then I thought it would be cute if Naomi could be something space-ish, too, and it hit me: A star. She just twinkles, so it was really a perfect match. I hacked up some styrofoam to transform (ha ha) our wagon into a spaceship, and last night we ventured to our church's Trunk and Treat with our star and our astronaut in tow. It was way fun.

And, of course, in the chaos that is Monday in our home, I forgot to bring my camera, so all I have are a few pictures from my phone. Zero points for Mom. But, you get the idea. Also, attempting to get both children to smile at the camera is nothing short of hilarious. My star who giggled and played all night totally looks like she's scowling in both of the pictures. Meh, that's how it goes.

Have a lovely day, friends.

Happy Halloween from Humpty Dumpty.

2011-10-31T00:00:00.000-07:00

(And the wall, of course.)

(My husband is a good sport.)

Have a great day, friends.

And She Shall Be Called...

2011-10-28T07:29:00.001-07:00

Lydia. :)

(The middle name is still in the works.)

Have a lovely weekend!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone because the Internet is STILL down

Just In Case You Need An Idea For Dinner.

2011-10-27T04:50:00.001-07:00

My friend posted this on Facebook after finding it on Pinterest so I thought I'd share it on my Blog:

(Three cheers for social media!)

Take the following:

Can on black beans
Can of corn
Can of rotel
8 oz package of cream cheese
Some frozen chicken breasts

Place chicken lovingly in your crock-pot. Dump the remaining ingredients on top. Simmer on low all day long.

Serve with brown rice or in tortillas or whatever suits your fancy and watch your family happily inhale it.

That's it!

Have a lovely day!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone because the thunderstorm last night knocked out our Internet

Wordless Wednesday: Three Wonderful, Well-Worn Years.

2011-10-26T00:00:00.000-07:00

27 Weeks!

2011-10-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

Here I am, folks, 27 weeks and getting big! Here are a few preggo updates!

*I had a slump of no energy around 22 weeks and it stuck with me for about a month, but now I'm feeling great. Hopefully the third trimester will treat me well for a little while!

*The baby is kicking ALL THE TIME, especially when I'm ready to go to sleep. :)

*Speaking of "the baby", we had another ultrasound last week and ...

*She's a GIRL!

*We are WAY. EXCITED. Tiny sisters for Cub. I can't wait.

*We have a name picked out, but we haven't decided on it for sure. I'll let you know when we do.

*Baby Girl is breech and has been since our 20-week ultrasound ... not a big deal yet, obviously, but I'm hoping she decides to flip before she gets much bigger!

*Or before I get much bigger. Oy.

*My weight gain is ... uh, on track, I think? I never actually look at the scale when they weigh me. Terrible, I know. I like to check right at the very end, just because it's fun, but I don't really care throughout the pregnancy. If I'm blimping up too much, my doctor will tell me.

*Speaking of blimping up, when I saw this picture, my first thought was, "Well, there goes my face!" Check out those round cheeks! And they will only get rounder as the weeks go by and the holidays encroach upon us. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas and a trip to Branson in there somewhere, I'm hosed. Bring on the stuffing and apple dumplings!

*Besides my face getting cheeky, I'm not swollen, which is nice. My ankles and wrists are still intact. I did have to take off my wedding ring, though. :( It never fit right after I had Cub (even after my drastic/crazy weight loss), so my fingers must have permanently gotten a size bigger with him, if that's even possible. Thusly, I had to move my right-hand pink sapphire to my left-hand, along with a cheap "wedding" band from Target to complete the set.

*I've already lost two "diamonds" out of my cheap wedding band. Ha ha. Classy!

*I'm anxious about having two girls, simply because I never had a sister, so I'm not sure I'll know what in the world I'm doing. I have friends I can ask, which is great. :) I'm so excited for the girls, though. Tiny sisters.

*No cravings anymore, but I do get fuller faster. Not what I would consider to be a problem. :)

Have a lovely day!

The Liturgical Baptist.

2011-10-23T11:08:00.001-07:00

When I was fifteen, the Baptist church we were attending suffered a split and my family left along with several other families in the congregation. I was what you would describe as an "active" member of our youth group, volunteering for various ministries along with singing for the worship band and youth choir, and playing the piano for the offertory on Sunday morning and Sunday night. I was known and affirmed for my service and appreciated the pats on the back I received in return. High-five for the involved kid in the youth group.

So, needless to say, the church split rocked my cozy little world and my safe walls came tumbling down. Adults whom I had known for years said hurtful things. Friends whom I had had for years said hurtful things. We were all hurting and we hurt each other in return. I turned my nose up to the idea of ever attending another Baptist church again and I allowed that hurt to settle into the deep recesses of my heart, where a tiny root of bitterness took hold. I can be a slightly cynical person by nature anyway, which didn't help anything, either.

I didn't have an issue with God or really of church in general--just of Baptist churches. I spent the next few years floating between my friends' churches, ignoring the bitterness and therefore letting it grow. My freshman year of college, I took a break from church altogether. I attended chapel at least once a week and felt it was sufficient. And really, at that time, I think it was.

My degree is in Family and Human Services and at the university I attended, this particular degree falls under the Department of Biblical Studies. That meant that along with my classes on counseling theories and family law, I was also taking Philosophy of the Christian Faith, Spiritual Formations, Theology, and the like. I studied the works of Augustine, Kierkegaard, and Bonhoeffer, and spent countless hours in the offices of my professors, discussing questions and revelations I had about my faith and the experiences that were shaping my worldview. I attended liturgical services, went to my first Ash Wednesday service, and observed Lent for the first time. I found these things to be tangible ways for me to worship and not altogether distant from my early years spent at a Dutch Reformed church that practiced its own methods of liturgy. It resonated with me and my faith grew enormously.

My sophomore year of college, I started dating the guy who would someday become my husband. I remember one night casually asking him where he went to church when he was home from college, and he said it was a Baptist church.

I don't like to think that I am dramatic, but sometimes my responses to things can be a little, eh, over the top. I promptly threw my hands in the air and declared that we couldn't date.

Thankfully, he ignored my little outburst and instead listened to the story of my hurt, the reason I felt the way I did. I was surprised when he didn't laugh or toss the story aside, but instead took it seriously. He said we would pray about where God was leading us as a couple, and that would be that. I nodded. That night I started praying. I prayed diligently every night for months, that God would release my hurt and, truly, my hate towards this specific kind of church--the same kind of church that the man I loved, and the man who's family I also loved, chose to attend. That root of bitterness had grown and had been nurtured over the years and was now a strong one. I know it seems silly to be weighted down by something that in the scheme of things seems so ... minor? Insignificant? I mean, the kind of church you attend? Who cares?

But wounds from the church are of the worst kind. If you've experienced that, you know it to be true. I couldn't forget the hurtful words, the dirty looks, from people I used to share my life with. All at a time in my life that was a decidedly poignant one.

In college, I became familiar with the Apostles' Creed. If you don't know it, this is how it goes:

I believe in God the Father Almighty,

the Maker of heaven and earth,

and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord:

Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost,

born of the virgin Mary,

suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, dead, and buried;

He descended into hell.

The third day he rose again from the dead;

He ascended into heaven,

he sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty,

from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Ghost;

the holy catholic church;

the communion of saints,

the forgiveness of sins,

the resurrection of the body;

and the life everlasting.

Amen.

The holy catholic church. The lowercase "c" refers to the universal church. The universal body of believers. As I studied the Creed, I realized that these were the things that mattered. These were the pillars of orthodox Christianity. If a Bible-believing church taught salvation and adhered to these truths and followed them, then I was on board, regardless of how they chose to worship or what denomination was listed under the name on their church sign.

Maybe even Baptist churches.

It was a historical creed, one that is rarely recited in Baptist churches (though is sometimes sung), that made me open to the possibility of the idea of attending one.

My last semester in college, I knelt one night by my bed and prayed again what I had been praying for a long time--that the root of bitterness would die. And in that moment, it did.

I opened my eyes and couldn't believe it. The hatred was gone. The bitterness was gone. God had answered my prayer. It was the biggest stronghold I have ever experienced and the disappearance of it was, thusly, the biggest relief I have ever experienced. It's like holding your breath just a moment too long and finally releasing it to breathe in fresh air. You want to laugh and collapse at the same time. I probably did.

Ironically, after my attitude underwent this crazy transformation, my husband and I didn't end up attending a Baptist church. We instead went to a church across town and stayed there for six years, and loved it. Then, almost a year ago, we felt God calling us to the church where he grew up. The Baptist church. We wanted our kids to have the experience of going to church with their grandparents, and after months of prayer and discussion, we did it. The transition has been a beautiful one. I'm still the same me--I will still attend an Ash Wednesday service and I still observe Lent and read through the Book of Common Prayer. These are the ways I love to worship. I also love the genuine joy of the body of believers God has called us to, the Bible Studies, the kids running in the hallway after church, and the glow on my in-laws' faces when they see their grandkids in the children's wing. The pastor and I have had really good conversations and even if we don't see eye-to-eye on everything, I respect him greatly and he has shown that he respects me as well, which is huge. God not only released my hatred towards all things Baptist, but He gave me love in its stead.

And as I sit here teary-eyed, I'm not entirely sure as to why I felt the need to share all of this with the Internet. But it was on my heart this morning, so, there you have it.

Have a lovely day, friends.

Love: The Kiddos.

2011-10-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Handprint Tree!

2011-10-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

My friend recently made some handprint trees with her kiddos, so last week I decided to do the same with Cub. Once sister went down for a nap, Cub helped me gather paint from our craft closet and organize our assembly line of tools: Paint, paintbrush, damp paper towels, and a large piece of paper.

We started with the tree trunk. Using a paintbrush, I painted Cub's hand, wrist, and arm (to his elbow) with brown finger paint and pressed it on the paper. Then I wiped it off with a damp paper towel, rinsed the brush, and he picked the colors he wanted for the leaves. I repeated the process with each color (only painting his hand), and Voila! We soon had a fun fall-ish tree. He even added a smear of green for "grass". Such artistic flair! I hung it on our fridge and Cub is very proud. :)

Have a lovely day, friends!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Vomiting Makes The Heart Grow Fonder.

2011-10-19T00:00:00.001-07:00

I think it's safe to say that any sort of stomach bug is my least favorite sort of bug. I had heard of such a bug floating around our area and while I crossed my fingers and took my vitamins and hoped that perhaps it would skip over us, my efforts were futile. Saturday night, Mouse threw up six times in an hour and a half, once Sunday night, and then we all got it Monday night. "It" turned out to be a horribly painful bug, full of stomach cramping and subsequent loss of stomach content. Both my husband and I agreed that this was the worst sickness we'd had in a while, as we laid on the floor curled up in the fetal position, moaning and pounding the floor with our fists.

Yeah, it was that bad.

Thankfully, it only lasted for a few hours with the kids. It lasted for eight hours for my husband and I, and finally after midnight we were able to hold down Gatorade (it never tasted so good). By the next morning, we were at least functioning, and I took advantage of this energy burst to go into psycho-cleaning mode. It seems to me that the stomach bug spreads germs in the worst way and I was determined to nix every last trace of illness in our house. I strapped on a mask and yellow gloves, and after removing the shower curtain, rug, and towels (all of which went in the wash for a spin in the "sanitize" cycle) in our guest bath (where we camped out most of the night), I bleached the entire bathroom. On my hands and knees, scrubbing. GAH. It was awful and felt wonderful. Now, at the end of the day, all of the sheets and comforters have been washed, too. Phew.

While my husband and I tag-teamed caring for the kids and took turns throwing up between hand-offs, it made me appreciate him all the more. He is so sensitive and sweet to the kids and this was especially true last night as he consoled them and held them and loved on them while they were sick. At one point he reached over to me and said, "I feel like death. I can't even imagine how hard this is for you being pregnant. You're amazing." I managed a smile in the midst of a really horrible night.

Now, we are back in the land of the living. Kind of. We're all still feeling tired and weak, but our stomachs are better and the house is sparkling. I'm glad that episode is over.

Have a lovely day.

2011-10-18T05:18:00.000-07:00

Hello there.

How are you?

Good, good.

We've all been projectile vomiting around here, hence the lack of blog posts.

Puke-tober 2011 has taken its toll.

I'm so thankful for cold, refreshing Gatorade.

And for sleep in small doses.

That's all.

Have a lovely day.

Motherhood: Pregnancy The Third.

2011-10-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here looking like I've been hit by a dump truck.

I'm looking snazzy in my sweatpants and maternity tank top (ow ow!) and I gracefully tripped over a sippy cup on the floor on my way to the computer. My laundry room is impassible, the dishwasher is full, and I've been having achy-breaky Braxton Hicks all afternoon. I started the day with gusto, however, with a breakfast with the kids' great Grandpa, a three mile brisk walk through the neighborhood pushing the kids in the jogger, hide-n-seek with Cub for an hour, and I even threw in a craft for good measure. Energy! Blessed energy!

Then I crashed at nap time. CRASHED.

The exhaustion that has decidedly accompanied this pregnancy is naturally blamed on the fact that I have two little ones to chase around. As you can see by the aforementioned game of hide-n-seek, the word "chase" is a literal one. As I crash into bed at the end of the day, I tell myself, "You had two kiddos to care for, no wonder you're tired!" I mean, right? Not just kids, but toddlers. Little kids. Baby kids.

It wasn't until today on the couch that it dawned on me that I've been wrong this whole time.

I don't have two kiddos to care for.

I have three.

The baby in my tummy requires his/her own amount of care, which, in this case, means stopping. Resting. Putting my feet up during nap time and taking a snooze myself. It's really the only time I can rest, seeing as any time I sit down while the kids are awake, even if they are on the other side of the house, they sense my pause in action and coming running to crawl on my lap and wallow and hang and pull and whatnot. Nap time = Rest time.

I kind of have to force myself to do it, since I see nap time as a time to get a few extra things done. But, sorry laundry room, you're just going to have to stay cluttered for a bit. I spend the morning paying attention to my two oldest. Nap time is now for the youngest.

Wow that's crazy to say.

And this "Dump Truck Chic" look will just have to be something to get used to. :)

Have a lovely day, friends.

Yay, Family.

2011-10-13T08:55:00.000-07:00

Three Reasons I Love Vacation...

:Reconnect:

:Recharge:

:Laugh, Laugh, Laugh:

My gracious in-laws took us on vacation this past week and we had a blast. Such a sweet time to play together. I am thankful for a healthy family (the older I get, the more I realize what a blessing that is) that loves to be together, no matter where we are. It was good to get away, and it's good to be home. And I'm still finding sand in our clothes. :)

Have a lovely day.

Wordless Wednesday: Lay Lady Lay!

2011-10-12T11:07:00.000-07:00

The Days Are Long, But The Years Are Short.

2011-10-11T00:00:00.000-07:00

October 11, 2008

One.

Two.

Three.

Happy Birthday, my precious baby boy.

Vermakelijk.

2011-10-07T18:27:00.000-07:00

Blogging while on vacation isn't typically my thing, but I just had to show you what the screen looks like when I go to check my blog here.

Blog maken?

Then, when I tried to sign into my blog, this is what I got.

Thankfully, I figured out how to change the language. Which is good, since this language is nowhere on my linguistic radar (and no, I'm not in the Netherlands).

Have a lovely weekend, friends!

Pause.

2011-10-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

Time for a brief hiatus to enjoy some time with the family.

In the meantime, here is a little something to make you laugh, because this can be true even when family time is enjoyed. :)

Have a lovely week, friends.

Cute Labor.

2011-09-29T20:45:00.000-07:00

Shopping carts are not only handy in the store.

Thanks for the help delivering the laundry, buddy!

Have a lovely weekend, friends.

What's a Romper?

2011-09-29T07:36:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine who is pregnant with her first sent me a message on Facebook asking for some advice on which items she should have on her gift registry. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed and oh, I remember that feeling! I remember walking into Babies 'R Us, pregnant with Cub, taking one look at their ten-page registry "suggestion" list, and promptly turning heel and leaving, barely averting a panic attack. Co-sleeping wipe warming jumperoo onesie Bumbo? What??

So, I dug into the reserves of my brain and made a list for my friend. I was amazed at how much I remembered and even though I don't know know how many times I've heard "the baby just needs a boob (or bottle) and a blanket!", I still found all of this stuff helpful. The needs change with each baby, but when it's your first go-round, a little extra help doesn't hurt. I included the brands I used, just for reference, and included why I liked certain things. It brought back so many memories of the early days with Cub and was actually quite fun! This is my list, copied and pasted from Facebook to here:

-Boppy
-Boppy cover
-Lansinoh or Medela Breast Pump (eek ... but you'll use it!!)
-Lansinoh milk storage bags
-Lansinoh nursing pads
-Baby Einstein Floor Gym (we used this FOREVER)
-Some sort of swing--we used a small travel swing rather than the huge swings, so we could take it with us wherever we went
-Fisher Price Bouncy Chair (my kids hated vibrating chairs ... and, I hate to say it, but typically the brighter and more obnoxious the bouncy chair, the more they like it ...)
-Dr. Brown's Bottles
-Bottle Drying Rack
-Sound machine/fan
-Pack 'n Play
-Eddie Bauer Pack 'n Play (I think they might call it "Play Yard") Quilted Mattress Cover---way softer than a sheet
-Eddie Bauer Car Seat Cover (to zip over the car seat during cold months)
-Changing Table Pad
-Changing Pad Cover
-Extra crib sheets (I don't know if you have your bedding picked out or not!)
-Have someone make you a swaddling blanket--I'm not even kidding--homemade is hands-down the best! Typically the packaged ones are too small.
-Either a notebook or an Itsbeen timer to help you record feeding times ... you will lose track of time sometimes!
-Stroller (I would recommend a jogger that is compatible with a car seat, like Baby Trend. We have a BOB jogger and I know you can buy a car seat adapter so your infant seat will click into it, and I think any Graco or Chicco car seat is compatible ... just Google it. :))
-Umbrella stroller (MacLaren is great)

-Vaseline (you will need this if you plan on having your little guy circumcised)
-Diaper rash ointment (Aquaphor is hands-down my favorite and can also be used if they get chaffed on their noses or lips)
-Skip-Hop diaper organizer (a little zipper thing that holds diapers, that you can toss in your purse or diaper bag)
-Baby Carrier (like a sling or Baby Bjorn--we love our Bjorn!)
-Baby Lotion, soap, shampoo, etc
-Burp cloths
-Baby Thermometer (we have one you just swipe across their heads--nice and non-evasive!!)
-Nasal aspirator (that thing that sucks snot)
-Baby bath cradle (we just used the kitchen sink, but some people like these!)
-Nursing cover ("hooter hider", ha ha--even if you don't plan on nursing, you might have to pump in the car ... yes, yes it's happened to me ... and a cover is great!)
-Bumbo seat
-High chair (we had one that just clipped onto our table ... I'm not a fan of huge plastic chairs!)

What do y'all think? What would you have listed?

Have a lovely day, friends!

Wordless Wednesday: She Has Enough Hair For Pigtails, Sigh, Sniffle, Love.

2011-09-28T00:00:00.000-07:00

Shoot.

2011-09-27T00:00:00.000-07:00

A while ago there was an incident that kind of hindered my photo-shooting mojo. After a series of small life changes (you know, new house, unexpected Baby Numero Tres, etc.), I took a brief hiatus from picture-taking to allow my brain to jump back into my head. Then the summer hit, which left us HOT HOT HOT, making scheduled shoots miserable to the point where we started scheduling them at 8:30 in the evening, just to avoid the worst part of the heat. Ugh. I could feel that I was in a bit of a slump and the fervor I had for photography had faded significantly.

I realized that a lot of it was fear-driven. All it takes (for me, anyway) is one shoot to make me feel like I'm a terrible photographer who has no idea what she is doing. And I'm not even a professional or advertised as one. I'm just an amateur building a portfolio who gets paid a little fee that I typically spend on an indulgent cup of coffee and diapers. The whole gig started out "for fun", but "fun" was the last thing I was having. I was stressed and overwhelmed as it was, chasing after two toddlers while maintaining the one in my womb, and photo shoots got knocked off the priority list. Needless to say, I learned a lot about boundaries and functioning within comfortable limits. It's what I have to do right now with my busy life. If I'm not okay, no one else is okay, either!

Then the weather cooled. This past weekend I had two shoots scheduled. They were for the first shoots in a long time and I could feel my stress creeping up again, but I knew that the best way to keep riding was to get back on the horse.

So, I did it. I did two shoots for the first time in a long time.

And they were great.

I uploaded the pictures and found myself commenting and ooo-ing and ahhhh-ing over the cuteness of my clients' kids, and with each click of the mouse I remembered why I loved doing this. Capturing these moments and being mesmerized at how quickly little ones grow. I ended my editing sessions feeling relieved and proud, rather than defeated and frustrated. These clients were repeat customers who called me because they wanted me to again do their pictures. That in and of itself brings a feeling of redemption.

I have one more shoot scheduled this fall and then I'm taking another break. But I feel good about this break--we have trips and holidays and then a baby. I'm not taking this break because I'm worried or afraid. Leaving on a high note feels great.

That's all. Now y'all have a little more of a peek into my life and the stuff I like to do.

Have a lovely day.

Shopping Savvy.

2011-09-26T00:00:00.000-07:00

Caleb has a shopping cart that his G-Ma gave him and it recently made its way from her house to ours. He loves it. He uses it to transport all kinds of things around the house, namely trains and books and cars and such.

A few months ago, he got it in his mind that he would like to take his cart to Target, please. Naturally, the execution of such a suggestion would be tricky with a one year old and a two year old, so we put it on the back burner, but kept the burner lit in case the opportunity ever presented itself to go.

And it DID!

While Naomi spent some time with the grandparents, I decided it would be the perfect chance for Cub to take his cart to Target. As soon as he woke up, I got him dressed and we loaded his cart in the van. We parked in the closest spot we could find and unloaded his cart. The store had just opened and was pretty empty (part of my plan!) and when we walked through the doors, the manager greeted us and was delighted in how cute it was to see a little guy pushing a cart, so I knew we were good to go.

He got to go to the cereal bar aisle and pick out his favorite flavor (always strawberry) and put it in his cart. Y'all, it was a BIG DEAL. So cute!

We only stayed for about fifteen minutes, and it was worth every second. Cub was elated. I remember always wanting to take my little cart I had as a kid to the store, so I could only imagine how happy Cub was to do it. Such a big boy.

Way fun.

Have a lovely day!

Autumn-ized.

2011-09-23T05:40:00.000-07:00

My challenge for fall this year was to find cute, simple decor that was, of course, kid-friendly. Because that's how we roll, folks.

Front door: Fake mums in lightweight (but look heavy!) planters. I have trouble keeping things alive.

Straw pumpkins. Love them. (Sorry it's dark, the den was dark this morning!)

The mantle. The sprigs are mustard yellow and the sticks and berries are chocolate brown. Easy, plus I can put them up again after the Christmas decs come down, since they are also winter-appropriate.

The breakfast nook table! Since I do not have a dining room table yet (crossing my fingers), this is the only table where I can display things. Hence, some candles ... and a pile of gourds and pumpkins for the kids. They love to play with them during meal time (notice Cub's collection of them in the previous post). So fun.

That's it! A peek into our fall decor. Simple and easy and crash-resistant.

Have a lovely day!

The Best Kind Of Mess.

2011-09-22T00:00:00.000-07:00

: Having a two year-old is like having a blender that you don't have the top for. :

-Jerry Seinfeld

This is Way Harder On Mom, Obviously.

2011-09-21T10:46:00.000-07:00

Me: Okay buddy, it's time to take a rest. Let's go find Bullseye!

Cub: Okay. Because Nigh-Nigh's at Memere's house!

(Nigh-Nigh has already arrived in the mail, unbeknownst to Cub.)

Me: Yeah ... Hey buddy, do you think it would be okay if Nigh-Nigh stayed at Memere's house for a while? You know, for a long time?

Cub: Yeah! That would be okay!

(I am pathetically FIGHTING BACK TEARS as I tuck him into his bed.)

Me: Okay! Here's Bullseye. Have a good rest, buddy.

Cub: I will, Mama. I love you.

Me: Love you, too.

It's hard knowing that his beloved toy is stashed in a box in the hallway closet, right next door to his room. But the thumb-sucking hasn't happened since Nigh-Nigh was first left at Memere's house, and the fading little sore on Cub's thumb tells me this is the right choice. I'm just glad he doesn't seem to be upset at all. If he asks again later, we'll tell a grand story about Nigh-Nigh going to the zoo to join the other lions, so he won't go to Memere's expecting to find him. I just can't believe how easy this has been for him.

Because it's been a little rough on me. Sigh, transitions.

Have a lovely day, friends.

Yawn.

2011-09-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

Baby girl was up sick from her shots.

Husband has a sore throat.

George the Cat got stuck in the attic and woke us up with ominous thumping and rustling at the crack of dawn this morning.

And just when I get them all back in bed ... Cubbie wakes up. :)

Good Morning, friends.

Reactive Attachment.

2011-09-18T21:24:00.001-07:00

Tonight (Sunday) we realized that Cub left his sleepy toy, Nigh-Nigh the much-loved-and-mangled-and-hanging-on-by-a-thread-(literally)-Ecuadorian-lion, at my parents' house in Arkansas today. We realized it after we came home and it's safe to say we froze with panic.

Cub has slept with Nigh-Nigh since he was seven months old, when he received him as a gift from his grandparents. I casually tossed him in the crib with Cub's other stuffed animals and it was love at first sight. The two have never spent a sleepy-time apart. Until now.

Naturally, we were terrified.

We came up with several different options: Drive to AR to pick him up and get home way late? Meet halfway? Fly to Ecuador and try to find another street vendor selling alpaca wool lions?

Or ... just explain what happened and (gulp) hope for the best...?

I decided to just go ahead and tell him. I lightheartedly explained how Nigh-Nigh wanted to spend a few extra days at Memere's house, but he'd be back in a few days. That meant he got to bed with another friend instead! What about Squirt the Turtle? Or Bullseye the Horse? Caleb processed this and we chatted about it for a bit.

Bullseye was selected.

I tucked him in with Bullseye at bedtime and we sang our songs together. He murmured quietly, "Nigh-Nigh's at Memere's house." I stroked his hair and told him how excited Bullseye was to be his sleepy friend tonight.

Y'all, I was fighting back the tears. RIDICULOUS. We just all have really grown attached to Nigh-Nigh around here. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be a little kid, not even three years old, and the only toy, I mean the ONLY TOY that you've ever attached to is suddenly gone. It really broke my heart.

I kissed his head and closed the door. He came out a few minutes later and I winced for the worst. He needed to go potty. Oh. Okay. So, he pottied and went back to bed.

And ... that was it.

The little tyke is fast asleep, Bullseye tucked under his arm.

I'm kind of in disbelief. I didn't know how it would all go down but I at least expected a few tears. Nope. I'm just .... so, stinking proud of my big boy. He's being so brave.

So, this little experience presents us with a bit of a conundrum. Caleb sucks his thumb to self-soothe at sleepy times with Nigh-Nigh. He ONLY sucks his thumb when he has Nigh-Nigh. It's not just direct correlation here, folks: It's causation. One doesn't happen without the other.

While we sang our songs and he hugged Bullseye, I saw his thumb go towards his mouth several times, but he pulled it away. Bullseye just doesn't have that luxurious, flowing, nasty, saliva-stained lion's mane to which Cub has grown very attached. Without the mane to rub, the compulsion to suck his thumb isn't there.

So, eh, at what point should Nigh-Nigh take a permanent vacation? I mean, we wouldn't really ever get rid of him--that beloved lion should be bronzed ... just hidden for a while. But if he makes it through tonight sleeping fine without him ... and maybe if he makes it through tomorrow night just fine, too ... (who knows) ... then that means that thumb-sucking might take a permanent vacation, too. He'll be three in a few weeks and we're going to have to stop it at some point, right?

At what point did you take away your child's sleepy toy/paci/blankie/lamby/smooshy/felty/snuggly (if they had one at all)? This might be time for the transition, but we're just not sure.

Have a lovely day. :)

21.5 Weeks.

2011-09-16T21:03:00.000-07:00

I'm not typically a weekend updater, but I realized that by Monday this picture will be null and void, since I will technically be twenty-two weeks then and not twenty-one like I am in this picture.

HUGE DIFFERENCE here, people. Ha ha.

And ... the chances of me getting another picture taken in the near future are pretty slim.

So, here you have it:

The baby bump.

Have a lovely weekend.

Creamy. Yummy.

2011-09-16T00:00:00.000-07:00

When it comes to soups, I'm a huge creamy soup fan. You know, the kind that isn't as good for you and usually involves significant amounts of fat and such. YUM!

As I made my menu for the week, I perused teh Internets for a creamy chicken noodle soup recipe that I could make in the good ol' crock-pot. I didn't find one that I loved, but I found parts of several that I loved, so I put them all together and made my own.

Oh my. Oh MY.

It was creamy, rich, amazingly yummy. My husband praised it and my kids devoured their bowls. I also devoured my fair share. So, if you're in the mood for something creamy and hot as the cold weather rolls in, here is my recommendation:

Way Yummy Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup

You will need:

4 cups chicken stock

2 cans cream of chicken soup (I usually try to be all healthy and shy away from using "cream of ..." soups, but this time? NAH.)

1/2 cup heavy whipping cream (remember me not being healthy?)

2-3 cups chicken, shredded (or chopped or whatever you prefer)

3/4 bag of egg noodles

veggies of your choosing (chopped carrots, chopped celery, chopped green onion, etc.)

salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

Dump everything in your crock-pot except the noodles. Cook on high for roughly thirty minutes, and then set to low.

Let it simmer all day and make your house smell amazing.

About thirty minutes before meal time, dump in the egg noodles.

Cook noodles until satisfied (I let mine thoroughly cook so they would have a dumpling-like creamy texture).

Add salt and pepper as needed.

(NOTE: I'm going to go ahead and recommend that you make your own chicken stock. I know, it sounds like a pain if you've never done it before, but it's way easy and you just can't beat the rich flavor. I seasoned my stock with garlic, green onions, bay leaves, salt, and pepper and it tasted amazing. I like making my own stock because I can control the salt content (I think store-bought tends to taste a bit salty, and the low-sodium option tastes a bit bland ... I guess I need a happy medium!). Especially when I'm using other canned soups which are already salty enough--it's nice to have a mellow but rich stock. I also used my chicken from the stock and it was all flavorful and yummy and YUM.)

Dump in bowls and watch your family devour it!

Happy eating, friends!

Have a lovely weekend.

Cheers.

2011-09-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

It wasn't until I was pregnant with Naomi that I had a false alarm.

I mean, she was my second. Meaning I HAD DONE THIS BEFORE and really, should know how contractions and labor and baby pains and all of that felt.

So, one night I laid in bed with what I thought was horrible back labor. Ughhh. It was searing and uncomfortable. Back labor was the primary labor I experienced with Cub, so it was all I knew. I was about 37 weeks, so my husband called his brother to come and stay with Caleb while he and I headed to the hospital.

After much monitoring and adjusting and urine sampling they came in and told me I was dehydrated.

Note: DEHYDRATION MIMICS BACK LABOR.

I had no idea. I drank water all day and all night but it didn't seem to matter. They said they were glad I came in because I needed to be put on fluids to catch up to the hydration level I needed to be.

This time around, I'm feeling just as dry.

I joke that coffee is my primary beverage of consumption but, of course, it's not. I drink my allotted amount, maybe ... three times a week? And if you ask my friends they will tell you: I never finish a cup. I'm a slow drinker and a slow eater and by the time I'm halfway through my delectable brew, it's cold and I'm done.

Weird.

So, after I've had my approximate 4 ounces of coffee, I spend the rest of the day guzzling water in the lovely blue mug pictured above. Classy, yes? My husband picked it up for me at Lambert's Cafe when he was a sponsor for our church's junior high camp. So romantic. But, really, it's been quite useful. Every morning I fill it up with ice and then fill it with water, and guzzle away. By the end of the day, I normally have consumed four or five of these bad boys.

Please note the mug is the size of my head. This ain't no easy task.

What's crazier is that I fill it up before bed and continue drinking it all night. I'm THAT DRY. And my coffee days are no drier than my non-coffee days. I live in a perpetual state of thirst. Weird. What's even weirder is that in my pregnancy with Cub, when I was pregnant allllllll summer long and drank a lot of coffee (I was working then and Starbucks happened to be on my way to work ... wait, no it wasn't .... but it was still easier to access ... excuses, excuses ...) and I wasn't dehydrated one bit. Ever.

Huh?

So, can someone please tell me if this is a blood sugar thing, maybe? In your expert opinions? I'm borderline hypoglycemic and my glucose tests in pregnancy are always very low, so I have to wonder if that matters ...?

Anyway. Back to my blue mug.

Have a lovely day!