On June 30, 2019, our Riley was baptized by Dave and confirmed and given the gift of the Holy Ghost by Grandpa Mike. We've been studying as a family all about baptism and the commitment involved and boy was she excited to take this step.
Here is the talk I sort of gave before she was baptized, but not really in full since I totally lost composure during my talk, and then Riley got up and walked away in the middle of it (to retrieve her journal to take notes in, but at the time, I thought she just got bored). And then I knocked a picture off the podium and basically got all kinds of flustered. Her actually baptism went off without a hitch, so that's good. And many thanks to my friend Selena Davis, who took the these pictures for us to remember the day by.
Dear Riley,
We are so proud of you and your desire at a young age to follow Jesus. As I've thought about this important even in your life, there has been a picture of you in my mind, standing in the water of baptism, the ripples fanning out around you, softly at first, and then splashing out as your dad dips you back into the water, just as when Christ himself was baptized many many years ago.
Let's talk about ripples for a moment. When we're at the lake, throwing in rocks, as we often do, some rocks, the small ones, will fall into the water with only a small disturbance, just a slight splash and a ripple or two before it disappears to the bottom. Other ones, those big boulders that we lug into the lake, those rocks can cause a huge disturbance. Their splash zone might extend for a few yards, possibly drenching your brothers and sister, and the ripples from those will fan out way into the lake, causing water plants to bob and rock, frogs to jump and the birds to take flight.
If your decisions in life were rocks being tossed into the lake, your decision to be baptized would be one of the biggest boulders you could lift. Few decisions you make will have as great a ripple-effect on your life as the decision you are making today to be baptized and receive the Holy Ghost. The ordinance itself is simple and brief, but the commitment you are making to follow Jesus Christ will be a blessing to you every day for the rest of your life. It will color the way you interact with others of God's children, it will help you navigate choices that will lead you either closer to God or farther from Him. As a disciple of christ, you will "stand as a witness of God at all times and in all things...serve Him and keep his commandments, that he may pour His Spirit more abundantly upon you. " (Mosiah 18: 8-9).
Remember that, Riley: Heavenly Father wants to pour His spirit upon you, that guiding, strengthening power that will aid you on your life's journey, as you strive to honor your baptismal covenants.
Mistakes will be made as part of your learning process, just like every other person in this room. You will learn about repentance and the healing power of the atonement. You will have the opportunity to renew your baptismal covenant every week when we take the sacrament, to mean it again when you say, "always remember Him."
My testimony to you: The Savior's power is real. Not just when we die and are resurrected, but in every single day, with all it's obstacles and choices, heart aches and mistakes. His power will heal and guide you through as you try to follow him. Never hesitate to call on him - his love for you is boundless.
A few weeks ago, we were having a completely lovely walk around Springbrook Nature Center, and the kids all turned photographer with my phone and started competing as to who could get the best picture of butterflies, frogs, flowers, ducks... Twas a worthy final act for my poor phone. It now resides at the bottom of a murky lake, just under a bridge that offers prime duck-photographing.
So we brought my iphone5 out of retirement. It's been fun looking at the pictures on it from 3 or 4 years ago, and I came across this delightful file I'd forgotten about, which I'll now share here.
"From the Mouths of Babes."
Me: Where are your socks? We need to find them!
Joe (3): They're camouflaged - I don't think we'll ever find them. (October 19, 2015)
Riley(4): What do you call a three-humped camel? A three-humped camel walking around! Hahaha! (October 23, 2015)
Joe: Wiley, I need a srew driver - mom locked the bathroom door again! (Pause) I need a screw driver!! (November 3, 2015)
Riley: I'm a scientist because I know lots of things, like chocolate comes from cocoa beans. And the scriptures are true and make us happy. (November 17, 2015)
Joe: *Sigh* I can't sleep with this much pink! (November 17, 2015)
Me: Joe you have got to listen to Mommy and stop doing dangerous things that get you hurt like you've been doing all day!
Joe: It's okay - tomorrow is a new day, Mommy. (January 18, 2016)
Riley: Can I sing you a lullaby Mommy?
Me: Okay
Riley: Go to sleep, Mommy Mom, so you don't want to be naughty. Go to sleep, go to sleep, you'll feel better when you sleep. (January 28, 2016)
Joe: *Sighs and looks out window* Mom, I wish I had a hump on my nose. (March 2016)
Riley: Thank you, Joe that was so nice!
Joe: Just don't hug me. (March 2016)
Joe: My imaginary friend got a little poop on his hand. (April 3, 2016)
Riley: Daddy, when you're at work, you are in my heart. (May 26, 2016)
Joe: *Points to breakfast cereal* May I punch that? (June 2, 2016)
Riley: The earth is really small.
Me: It's actually really big - bigger than Minnesota, bigger than our whole country!
Riley: People only think it's big because we are really, really small. But actually Earth is a very small planet.
Me: *Blinks.* (June 29, 2016)
Beginning of 16 hour road trip, 1am:
Riley: I LOVE this time of night! This is my favorite time of night! Because of the clouds!
Joe: I brought the best toys in my pack-pack. I brought the MONKEY BOOK! I'm going to stay up all night! That car looks like a hot dog and I want to eat it!
7am:
Joe: Can we go to the airport now?
Me: No.
Joe: Well, are we in Baginia yet?
February 19, 2017:
Dave: I'm going to finish cutting my hair now.
Joe: But you already look handsome!
I don't know why I started or stopped this file, but I'm so glad to have it, and to be chuckling over the funny things kids say three years later. I should probably start doing this again - Henry regularly has the funniest observations, but I can't recall any of it, probably because 8 years of consistent sleep deprivation has wrecked my short term memory. I'm not bitter. But I am going to bed now.
1)After a late night of cleaning and nesting, I woke at 3am with intense back pain, slept fretfully off and on/ Today: After a late night of assembling the fabulous kitchen my dad sent Betty for her birthday(watching Dave assemble it, that is), I woke at 4 to Betty's persistent demands (actually Dave put her in the bed and she head slammed my nose, so I fed her).
2)In the morning, I packed the kids lunches while trying to ignore contractions. Totally in denial, didn't tell Dave, but packed my hospital bag and put it in the car "just in cases"/ Today: Packed lunches while spooning oatmeal over the counter into Betty's face.
3)Dropped kids off at school and Henry at a friends house so I could go to the DMV and the library and grocery shopping - sucking in air while I took my license renewal test, but after each contraction was over, I astoundingly dismissed it as indigestion. I decided to skip lunch though, as I sensed my time was precious and I still had errands to run. I needed to print off a form for the DMV at the library, and as I did so, definitely scared the homeless looking guys next to me with my groans. As I walked out of the library, I barely stifled a yell, but still, drove on to the store. When I discovered I was too cramped to physcially step out of the car, I decided to call Dave, "just in case" and ended up yell/crying into the phone and we decided to meet at home and he'd take me to the hospital. Just. In. Case. hahah/ Today: Dropped the kids off at school, took babies to the gym where we arrived for my class early so I took a power nap in the front seat while they watched Charlie Brown. After the gym, nursed Bet in the front seat so she could start her nap on the way home, picked up an ice cream cake from Coldstone on the way, got home and transferred her to bed and fed Henry lunch.
4)Concerned I was going to deliver on the toilet, I screamed Dave's name when he walked in the door, yelling for him to bring me some pants (my water broke when I got out of the car), he slid down on one knee through amniotic fluid in the bathroom, and helped me put my feet into pajama pants and, in between contractions, we ran for the front door. But I had to stop because the pants were on backwards and falling off. I sat on a towel on the way there and Dave broke the speed limit, which he never does/ Today: took a nap.
5) Again, racing contractions, I ran into the hospital, made it almost to the front desk before one hit and I hunched over on a chair and groaned and hit my head against the chair back till it passed. A fabulous nurse ushered me back and didn't quite get the privacy curtain drawn before I jumped out of my pants because I was sure the baby was about to come. I was right. I didn't mind the "ring of fire" as much as I thought I would - I was just so ready to end contractions. She crowned just as the doctor walked into the room to deliver her. Thanks Doc ;)/ Today: Lifted a smiling Betty out of her crib and made her a batch of her favorite egg scramble. She insisted on feeding herself; it was messy.
6)Perturbed that delivering the placenta is an additional discomfort, I let Dave hold her till all that was past and then came the good stuff. Sooo snuggly. We moved into the mother baby room and introduced Betty to her 3 siblings and most adoring fans./ Today: Riley had an afterschool activity but Joe comes home and asks if we'd started the party yet? We go downstairs to play with the new kitchen. We'll have spaghetti later, an extra fun baby meal, and sing her happy Birthday before letting all the kids blow out her candle. She won't understand or remember it- this won't even be her first sugar (fourth child we're talking here).
But, oh Betty: you are so so loved. God bless you, baby girl! A moment with you is worth every pain or lack of sleep parent could be called to endure.
I hesitate to put parenting tips out there. Because every child is different, I'm far from the perfect parent myself, and all the parents I know are doing a great job. And, if they have questions they'll ask google, or their therapists, so better to just offer solidarity and support right? Buuut, there is a strategy that I came across early in this parenting game which I've used for all our kids and I feel obligated to pass on, because it's saved my sanity and aided my relationships with my children so very much. It is a skill I picked up from a podcast that, sadly, I now can't find to refer you to, but she has a book by the same title: Raise Your Kids Without Raising Your Voice. This strategy is super simple, and it has absolutely molded the way I parent in very positive ways. I really think this would work for a lot of parents and kids, a lot of personality types, and that everyone could benefit with it in their parenting tool box. So here it is:
3 Strikes.
Easy to remember, eh? Three strikes is a method for handling nagging and discipline issues.
Nagging, as we all know, is one heck of a maddening habit. There's a tone. There's persistence. There's a gradual chipping away at the parent's finite reserve of patience. It can turn into an argument, culminating in the parent loosing composure, yelling, saying, "Fine, sure, whatever!" with an eye roll or grimace that to the parent just means, "I'm fed up," but to the child could easily mean, "I don't like you/go away/you disgust me/my love is clearly conditional." Damaging ideas for a child to receive from a parent. More damaging than a simple "no" ever could be. "Rules is rules," as my Dad used to say, but conditional love - that is damaging to relationships. Nobody wins in that exchange.
So, how to stop nagging?
3 Strikes: Nagging Edition
Strike 1: When a kid asks for a cookie/stay up late/ watch this show, the first time, it is easy to answer with simple yes or no. If yes, that's the end of that. If not, continue to strike 2.
Strike 2: Then the child asks again, usually with a supporting argument. "But I promise I'll still eat a good dinner/get up on time/etc." At this point, I might consider changing my answer. I try to say yes when I can, but sometimes of course, the best answer is still "no." And I might offer a reason behind the "no". That's not healthy or whatever. Sometimes the answer can be, "I need to think about that, I'll let you know later." or just, "No, I don't have a good feeling about that." Parenting intuition is a thing. That is a legit answer.
Strike 3: The definitive end of the discussion. This is your last chance to change your answer to the child's question. At this point you need to be firm and conclusive with your statement. "Okay, as long as you eat a good dinner." That's fine. It's totally okay for you to change your original answer - maybe you didn't think it through. Maybe they made a good point. It shows consideration for the child. Whether the answer is yes or no, that must be the end of the discussion. You can actually say, "...and that is the end of the discussion." If they keep pushing it, don't take the bait. Maybe remind them once or twice you aren't talking about that anymore, if this is new to them. If they are very strong willed and and screaming their demands at epic levels, if you can't ignore them and continue on as a sane human being, this would be a good time for consequences to kick in. But The idea is that the kids learn they can't keep pushing to get what you want - once a decision is final, that's it - and the parent doesn't get to the point where they loose their temper and descend to negative parenting practices.
3 Strikes: Consequences Edition
Sometimes parents think that using anger as a consequence is acceptable because maybe their parents did it with them, and it works! Yes, anger might work in the moment. If you yell, rage, or hit, it can indeed deter behavior. But most parents know the damage that causes. Emotionally, it sets children up for anxiety and depression, not to mention rage issues. It is also damaging to relationships. To the parenting relationship as well as to the child's other relationships: kids are more likely to bully, to learn that acting on anger is an acceptable way to treat and be treated. There are tons of studies, feel free to research.
So.
How to discipline, sans anger:
You can administer consequences the way a police officer administers a ticket. A good officer doesn't take it personally, he doesn't scream and stomp or treat you disrespectfully. He writes you a ticket and says, "Have a nice day." This kind of zen can be hard in the heat of a parenting moment, but if someone walks into the room and sees you at conflict with your child, they should be able to tell who is the adult by more than just your size. Meaning, as the adult and the teacher in the situation, you get to model self control, respect, and love to your child. This is what that can look like:
Strike 1: You have set a rule. A misbehavior has occurred. For a new behavior you are starting to teach, a verbal correction is appropriate. "Remember, we don't watch TV on school nights."
Strike 2: Same misbehavior occurs. Verbal correction, add on consequence warning. "No, it's a school night so no TV. If you turn it on again, you won't get to pick a book tonight.
Strike 3: Misbehavior occurs third time: "Okay - you turned it on again, so when you ask to read a book tonight, and I say no, remember it's because you broke the rule." Always follow through. The child knows they can trust you this way, and has the security of healthy boundaries. Consistency is key. Accountability is key.
*Note on consequences: there are obviously different levels of consequences to fit different levels of misbehavior. "Parking ticket" level consequences for minor infractions might be: loosing a book, loosing dessert, extra chores, natural consequences like, "you peed on the seat so you have to clean the toilet." I like that one. Heavier ones can be administered for repeated offenses. And they are so different for each child. I have one child who looooves candy and pouring all his gumballs into the trash after a repeated offense was pretty traumatizing for him. Another child couldn't care less about gumballs. As parents, we generally know what makes our kids tick. I do not take felony-level consequences lightly and throw them out willy nilly. They might happen once a year or less. I love my kids and want them to be happy. I just don't think that happiness is the be-all and end-all, and that discomforting them from time to time is a necessary part of parenting, to help them be successful in life and in relationships, and some times that means bringing out the tough consequences.
This Christmas we didn't travel or make gingerbread houses, but we also didn't get sick so, it was AMAZING! If you have your health you have everything, so they say, and you know, being healthy is pretty awesome. We always have someone sick over the holidays. Always!
So there's that. And also:
I went into the holidays with a little more intention than years past. Historically, I have overloaded our December calendar with all the stuff. I say yes to all the stuff, bake all the stuff/eat all the stuff. Fear of missing out on anything Christmas has driven me to overindulge, to the detriment of physical and mental health. But thanks to some healthier thinking I've been working on this year, before Thanksgiving I did something rather genius, if I say so myself: I thought ahead and considered how I want to feel coming out of the holidays. Rather than creating a grand master list of all I wanted to do and how to squeeze the most out of the holidays, I visualized a post-holiday me, feeling uplifted, clear-headed, rested, spiritually fulfilled, healthy, heart-warmed, and grateful and generous, and went from there. I recalled that picture in my head as I made choices. Oh, we still baked cookies. We still did plenty of the fun stuff. But we had more wholesome, relaxed, "doesn't have to be perfect" fun than the fun that wears you down, or fun that has to meet some grand expectation. The glitz and glamor did not trump the general spirit and meaning of the season this year, and Momma did not loose her freaking mind.
Here's the list of what made the cut on this year's Christmas:
Christmas 2018 Memories
(including pictures mostly from my insta)
Shopping with the kids individually, hearing their deliberations on
what to get whom, and handing their own money to the cashier and
counting their change with a shrewd eye. Then having an enjoyable conversation about sales
tax.
Singing with the choir in the Ward Christmas program
Christmas concerts and singing the Hallelujah chorus
Nutcracker ballet at the Landmark Center
Caroling with choir members and their kids
Making snowflakes and hanging them up
Service at a food pantry: They filled food bags with such intensity, and wanted to go back the following day.
Visit to Santa
Cookie decorating
Christmas Eve white elephant party
"Sleep over" in the basement, watching holiday baking show and eating popcorn
Reading the Christmas Carol
Reading the scriptures
Brunch with friends
Church Christmas social
Family nativity on Christmas morning, very much winged it. Still spiritual.
Christmas church service followed by cookie munch and mingle
Relief Society paint night of the Babe in a Manger
Christmas Cards/letter: writing of, receiving of
Ice Skating (Dave and the bigs - I stayed home with the littles. And I'm fine with that.)
Hand-made gifts for teachers: embroidery on fabric to cover candy jar lids
Looking at this list I think, I actually could have pared down a bit more. But I do love all those fun Christmas activities. And I see in this list so much loving on others and being loved on, it really is a magical time.
I have this plaque that Mom gave us for Christmas one year - I think the last Christmas before she passed - that says, "The magic of Christmas never ends, because it's greatest gift is family and friends." I never thought about it beyond surface value, but it struck me this year in a new way. Christmas brings us together with family and friends, which is the best part of all those fun activities. But more than that, Christ's coming to earth and conquering death made it possible for us to have our loved ones forever. God's gift of his beloved son, and Christ's gift of his life and power, means that we do indeed have our loved ones with us forever. Those relationships will never end. And that is the magic of Christmas.
When the tree's on the curb,
And the lights packed away,
When the house is all quiet,
And the kids at school for the day,
What do you do?
How do you play?
When the holidays finish?
What do you say?
Do you take a nap?
Give the house a good clean?
Go to the store,
To buy grocery's and things?
Do you detox from the sugar,
Or relax with a cocoa,
Enjoy a moment to yourself,
with out all the loco?
What about goals, resolutions and such?
Are you diving right in,
Or don't care that much?
Are you list-makers listings
Your to-dos with gust-o
Or taking a well-earned break,
and Netflixing a show?
Manicures? Pedicures? Paying the bills?
Getting a workout, climbing some hills?
Baking some cookies, writing a poem?
Thank-you cards? Laundry?
Making calls on your phone?
Seriously, when holidays are over, babies down for a nap,
When big kids are in school,
And quiet feels like a trap,
How do you choose,
What do you find?
....Wait, nap time's over?
Well shoot.
Nevermind.
Also: Thank you, teachers! I love you. You, personally, I love. And I think you're amazing.
This morning as I was hiding from the kids (in one of their rooms because I'm sneaky like that) I had time to reflect about the quilt laid out on the bed in front of me. This particular quilt was made by my mother, about 10 years ago, long before she got cancer and all that heart break. The quilt is a t-shirt quilt, rather garish in colors, being as it was made from my high school and college t-shirts. The story behind this one always brings a little smirk to my face, as I remember how coniving my kind, pure, "without guile" mother could be. Because you know how you surprise someone with a meaningful t-shirt quilt? You steal their meaningful t-shirts. While they are out of the country! I returned from my 18 month church mission in England, fully expecting to have my old wardrobe waiting for me, and of course it wasn't. When I asked Mom though, she first said, "Oh, it should be all in those bags." When I pressed her with specifics (what about my Dr. Seusse shirt, and Rolling Stones, vacation and soccer shirts?) she "had no idea! Maybe...they got donated?" I chalked it up to one of those sacrifices a missionary makes, a casualty to the cause, and assumed I'd never learn the ending of the missing shirts. But almost 2 years later, all came to light in the most surprising Christmas gift I've ever received: the gift of a stolen t-shirt quilt. Mom can churn out quilts like nobodies business, in a matter of weeks even, but this one took so long because...SHE CONTINUED STEALING MY SHIRTS! A Jamba Juice work shirt I brought home over break that never made it back to work, as well as the Salt Lake City marathon t-shirt, silky, sweat-wicking fabric notwithstanding, were the final additions on this diabolical masterpiece, this elaborate heist. And gosh, how I love it.
It reminds me that Mom and I are more alike than I once thought.
I always wax a little nostalgic during the Christmas season. It's a bitter-sweet magic, sometimes. But still, magic.
Here is a little more of that Christmas magic, from 2018:
Santa's workshop. Aka Home Depot, where they do free crafts for the kids on the first Saturday of every month. Not pictured: free popcorn, as part of their "get your furnace serviced" promotion. Christmas magic, I tell you!
Yard decorating, and then Rudolf getting blown over in the short blizzard we had December first.
Ward Christmas party and Primary performance. Always wonderful.
And two little handwritten signs created during the Christmas devotional last night. The first, by Joe, was taped to a rocket and sling-shot into my lap while I was sitting by Dave. The second, by Riley, is a sort of instruction sheet on how to use the mistletoe. Although Joe has adapted the rule to allow for hugging if you're not a big kisser. I must say, that mistletoe has already gotten a lot of mileage this season. I rarely can walk into the kitchen without having to stop and give some little person a kiss or cuddle first.
So yes, we are deep in it, my friends, and be warned, if we see you in the next 3 weeks, we will probably hug you and wish you a Merry Christmas. And then a happy New Years. And then, a...tolerable January? Haha! I need to find something to look forward to about January. I saw on Facebook a 100 mile January challenge. Like, running 100 miles in January to start your New Year off strong. I'm still mulling over that one. I run about half that at the moment - 3 miles a day, 4 or 5 days a week. I haven't been in a running phase for a good...7 years, so maybe it's time. But if you have any, less tiring ways to be excited about January, do send them my way. I'm open. :)
Gather round, friends, for a tale of woe and horror this Thanksgiving night (it's afternoon but for our purposes...)
One cold and windy Thanksgiving Eve, I with focus and great care, was brushing my first-born's hair. From the basement I heard a shout. "Mom! Come see this!" Sleepy and still in my morning funk, I responded with a sour, "Not right now," and carried on with the hair. I barely registered the thump of feet up the stairs, but then the door opened and a child's voice innocently asked, "So, is this a fake one, or a dead one." "That makes no sense..." I began, turning to look over my shoulder, and shrieked when I saw that in my sons hands, clamped in a pair of pliers, was a mouse, held helpfully at eye level.
With a scream, Riley and I made a dash for an adjoining room, startling Joe, who dropped the pliers and the mouse, causing our overgrown puppy to bound for the kitchen. I barely snagged his collar as he lunged for the mouse, and, after kenneling the dog, ran through some mental exercises to snag an anxiety attack by the collar as well. Sending the kids from the room, I grabbed a shoe box and scooped the offending rodent (dead, now confirmed) into the box and out to the trash just in time for morning pickup. As I stood on the curb, contemplating my narrow escape and watching the garbage truck's long arm lift the truck, I saw with horror the shoe box teeter and fall out of the can and onto the lawn. I made to pick it up, but the kindly garbage man beat me too it and without ever knowing he actually held a tiny coffin, tossed it unceremoniously into the heap. I fervently thanked the man, before turning to drag our bin back up to the house.
Would that the story ended there... Alas, we found a few mouse calling cards today under the couch. On our family puzzle, actually, which we keep on a giant drip pan under the couch and slide it out on slow days like today. I binned the puzzle, sterilized the area, and then gosh darn it, while preparing Thanksgiving dinner I discovered further evidence in the kitchen. I don't know that anything has ever brought me so quickly to the brink of panic as discovering mouse leavings in our cupboard.
Which is why I am thankful for stores that are open on Thanksgiving. Multiple mouse traps have been purchased (and the turkey bag - I always forget to get the turkey bag) and hidden about the house. The workers at Walmart have been fervently thanked - I'm so grateful for employees that keep the store running so a person can make emergency mouse trap runs when need be. Because of them, I was able to finish a simple Thanksgiving dinner (we had planned on gathering with friends but are continuing our tradition of being sick on Thanksgiving, so home we stay) and relax in the knowledge that those little varmints are going down.
Happy Thanksgiving!
PS: Lil Bet is the only one dressed up because I bought this dress back when I was pregnant with Henry, before we found out he was a boy. Well, I now happen to have a girl baby, years later, that happens to fit it, so gosh darn it she's going to wear it. Nevermind if the rest of us look like hoodlums.
Fall, you beautiful beast you. We've had a tremendous fall. The weather has been charmingly unpredictable, with snow on one exciting Sunday early in October, and then we had a balmy 65 degrees to Trick or Treat in on Halloween. We made time for certain beloved fall activities (apple picking, leaf raking, family pictures) and skipped some of the good/not best ones (ahem, school Halloween dance).
This morning it was 7 degrees when we woke up and scraped frost off our window (the one with the poor casing, obviously...). Seven. De. Grees. That is cold, friends. It's past the point of flexibility with your toddlers winter wear: sorry, H - your wearing your coat whether you like it or not. At twenty degrees, I'll let him walk outside sans coat because he then will cooperate getting into it. But at 7... nah, son - coats go on before we open the door. But be ye not dismayed: there is no bad weather, only bad clothing for the weather. At least, that's what Bishop Foster told us when we first moved to MN 6 years ago. He's mostly right. A down coat goes a long way in a frigid tree-lighting ceremony or neighborhood hockey match. Pro tip.
6 years! Has it been that long?? I mean, we have moved like, 6 times since then, with various jobs and schooling and whatnot, but the bulk of those years we've been in Minnesota, slowly developing a heartier attitude and aptitude for cold and an extra layer or two of insulating fat stores. Go us! As lovely as MN summers are, with their music in the park and 10,000 lakes and 80+state parks and camping and impressive network of bike trails...despite all that, I think Fall and Winter remain my favorites. They bring out the heartiness of the people, and a deepened sense of community. We're a bunch of vikings, but instead of the violence and plundering, we're lustily digging each others cars out of snow drifts.
And Hygge! The hygge of winter! Candles, books, plaid throws, hot chocolate and rocking chairs, decorations of winter greenery and berries, bread baking in the oven and stew on the stove. The hush on the world that comes with snow, the ruddy cheeks smiling above thick scarves. Boots. Boots. Woolen tights, and boots. People congregating in each others homes to share a meal and pass a long winter evening with a puzzle or a card game, or quietly sitting by the fire and knitting something soft. It is a magical, restful time.
Don't get me wrong - I don't want a Narnia plunged in eternal winter. Part of the charm definitely is knowing that spring and summer will have their turn.
But, Lady Winter: you are a delight.
*Another pro tip: sun lamps to keep you Vitamin D needs happy are very affordable these days: we got ours here
*If you don't love your stew recipe, try this one - you won't regret it
*The kids and I are reading Miracles on Maple Hill, and it is the warmest of warm fuzzies from my childhood. I remember reading that in bed under a quilt in the middle of the day during Christmas break and being sweptaway. I read through the whole book in a day, only emerging from my room to grab rolls and yoohoo. Funny how certain books have an impact on you, to the point where you can remember the details of the day you first read them, even 25 years later.
*I've said it before but, I really am going to try for a weekly blog post going forward. I love looking back on earlier years and seeing the babies and seeing how our lives have evolved, and I deeply desire to share more regular updates for loved ones who care and wish to be more involved in our lives, many of whom are not on social media (which is where my short, quipy updates go on the day-to-day, for convenience sake). So stay tuned :)
Here is the birth story, as taken from my emails sent to family that very night, slightly edited for correctness. It all happened so fast - this was the first time it was just Dave and I there for the delivery (along with the dozen or so strangers circulating in and out of the room, of course.) It was lucky that even Dave was there! Despite feeling contractions since 3am that morning, I wasn't sure I was in labor - having only been induced before - until about two hours before she came rushing into the world. Basically shot out of a human cannon. So Dave didn't have a clue until two hours before she was born. But I digress; here are the emails:
Subject: We had a baby!
"This nameless, perfect, squishy little creature was born at 2:04. We are
both doing well. I’m sitting in a dim room by myself while Dave is picking up
the other kids from various locations and bringing them back to meet
her.
Whirlwind day! I’ve always been induced before because of
late babies and/or time constraints (mom flying home or moving to MN) so
this was a new experience. I started having painful contractions and
back labor at 3am but thought maybe it was from doing too much -
major nesting going on lately. This morning I took the kids to school
and dropped Henry off with a friend so I could go to the DMV and take a
test for my MN license. I was sucking in air periodically but still
wondered: indigestion? I then went to the library to print off some
forms and then to the store to get bread. Didn’t make it into the store, simply because I was in too much pain to make it across the parking lot. Called the hospital - hadn’t timed my contractions exactly, with all the
errands and driving around, but the nurse said come and we’ll check
you. Then I called Dave, not sure if he needed to leave work, but I had a
contraction while talking and there was crying and wordless yelling and that had him moving pretty quick.
We planned to met up at home, a close rendezvous point as I didn’t
think I should be driving. I got there first and when I got out of the
car, I felt a gush. My water broke! I was excited - ok yes, I am in labor -
and at the same time I was horrified. Oh. No. It’s going to get worse. I went in the house to
change...
TBC
Email #2
"...hospitals are busy places.
Anyway, Dave came home soon after and slipped in the amniotic fluid upon
entering. It was very satisfying in a Hollywood sense. Together we got
me into dry clothes and back in the car, then drove the 12 minutes to
the hospital in...less than 12 minutes. We were lucky not to get pulled over. Although I think Dave might have enjoyed that drama. I felt
another contraction coming as we walked into the hospital, and I made it as far as the
waiting room before kneeling on a chair and banging my head on the
backrest till it passed. Dignity where art thou? We checked in at
1:30. We were in triage, to make sure I was in labor (haha!) when it
really amped up and sounds were coming from me I didn’t know I could
make. Like a foghorn, or perhaps a typhoon. The
nurse, Kevin, plugged his ears. Dave said it wasn’t
as bad as the lady next to me, who sounded like a rooster. By the time
they got me in a delivery room, about 1:50,
the pressure was so intense, I refused to sit on the bed like they
asked (to get an iv in). I really felt like I needed to be kneeling on
the bed. Poor Kevin had a hard time convincing me, but got it done. There was no opportunity for the pain meds I desired through the iv though - birth was too near.
The doctor (Doc Harper) arrived just as I had
to push. It was the most bizarre pressure and mental weirdness to push
through, but boy was I keen to get her out and be done with
contractions, so I did it. Two contractions, right Dave? She was born at
2:04. Today, 2/21/2018. Once I had her in my arms I was a little stunned - it was hard to believe she was here! No one comes on time in our family, much less early! Also, I didn't really feel like celebrating - without pain killers, delivering the placenta was another uncomfortable experience. Once that was through I was able to coo over her sweet little lips. Another difference in this delivery: she wasn't in the birth canal long enough for her head to take on that cone shape that the others had for a day or so. Her head was pretty normal looking.
Dr. Harper
About five minutes after giving birth, we got a serious lecture from nurse Kevin about not letting her do 21 shots on her 21st birthday and having her die of
alcohol toxicity. Kevin was kind of an interesting guy, but it is sound advice
nonetheless.
There were no complications, no tearing or dizziness or anything. The baby was grouchy for a while till we figured out feeding, but on a full stomach she is extremely loving. Same as most I guess.
I got
to see the placenta this time and they delayed cord clamping for a
little while. They also delay bathing the baby, she still has vernix in
her hair, six hours later.
Isn't she lovely?!
Update: just had a bath. No more vernix.
Dave went and got the kids at about 6pm from friends homes in the ward, and
Riley and Joe were happy to get some cuddles and ham it up for the
camera. Henry took a slight interest at first and then played in the
curtains. My friend Selena came and took pictures
- she did our family pictures in the fall and did a great job, so I’m
sure we got some sweet shots, even with labor fatigue (and just
relief) setting in and baby girls eyes still puffy from her shoved
through the birth canal. [She did indeed get some amazing shots, many of which you see in this post. Thanks, Selena!]
Dave took the kids home about 8pm - we decided he’d better stay with
them tonight. It’s been a wild day for them too, and Henry especially
depends on him at night. We moved Henry back into his crib just last
night for containment purposes - he will not stay
in his own bed, and usually ends up sleeping on Dave’s chest.
The doctor said I can go home tomorrow if I want to. I might. I have
always stayed three days in the past, but I get a little stir crazy and
wanting my own bed. Hopefully we’ve settled on a name by tomorrow!
That’s all I can think of! I’m enjoying this very peaceful time (they
have meditation music on in my room and nature scenes on the TV
screensaver. It is very peaceful:) and feeling so grateful that all my
birth worries were mostly unfulfilled. Well, all were,
actually - I didn’t really worry about the painful stuff, always having
had an epidural before. But all is well, hallelujah! The kids were taken
good care of, Dave was with me when I needed him, the baby is healthy,
the nurses are lovely, I’m recovering well.
Blessed day for us!"
The 24 hour hospital stay proved to be one of the most peaceful I'd experienced, maybe because our room was at the end of the hallway and we were one of only like three mother/babies in the wing. Betty only left me once for tests, and the rest of the exams, baths, etc, took place right by my bed, which I loved so I could ask any questions and see what the doctor was looking for.
I was treated to aromatherapy and massage, room service, and then Dave ran me a hot lavender bath before handing me an intriguing little jewelry box, inside of which was a pair of beautiful earrings. It made me feel like a million bucks! No small miracle for a woman who is one day postpartum, let me tell you! Every time I think of it, I want to kiss his face off. That Dave: he's the sweetest, and I love him.
No amount of pampering can take the place of your own bed though, so I decided that yes, I would check out a day early. We settled on a name just an hour before time to checkout. Betty Louise, after both our Grandmas: amazing women whose names carry a legacy to inspire and uplift our little girl throughout her life.
Dave took a total of 3 days off for the baby and headed back to work on Monday, but we have been so well taken care of with meals and visits and gifts from friends, coworkers, and church family. Suzette flew in mid-week and has been a huge help taking care of people and making sure the other siblings feel loved while Momma is busy nursing or napping or doing what women have to do in recovery.
Here is a video with clips of her first week on earth. It has been a wonderful week. So. Much. Love.
