Things that Make me Happy

1. That little baby no longer poops during the night.   I don’t mind feeding her at night and with her sleeping in the bed it is really easy, but changing babies at night – not a fan.  This is a very happy time in my life. 

2. That we are on Christmas break from school.  No getting me and three others out the door at 8:30 every day.  Enough said.

3. Pomegranates.  I love them.  The other day I prepared two at one time because they take so long, I figured this would last awhile.  I took my delicious bowl of seeds to my desk to work and I looked down and they were gone.  I ate two giant Costco pomegranates in one sitting.  Oh well, I love them.

4. That Owen has a girlfriend named Rylee. 

5.  That Ivy wore not one but two skirts the other day.   She hasn’t worn a skirt for months.  This was a good day and made me realize that there is hope for her current scruffy style to change. 

6. That at Toys R Us yesterday, a big black plastic snake and Owen made the baby laugh.  Not just a little laugh, but hysterical laughing.  Not giggling but screaming with laughter.  It was the highlight of my day, possibly even my week and maybe even the month.

7. That I am doing yoga at a class I love and that I am back to boot camp 2 days a week. 

8. That I have these three pictures of the baby.

9. That Owen’s front teeth all fell out and somehow that made him able to say his “s” sound and we were able to graduate from speech therapy. 

10.  That Ivy made a special box for her binky to go in during the day. (It doesn’t always make it there and there was that time when I said she couldn’t take the binky out of the special box during the day so she turned it around and held the box up to her mouth and sucked on the binky in the box.  What can you say to that?). 

(aren’t the clothes awesome, see why I was so happy she wore the skirts)

11. That Ben cooked our turkey on 0 degrees for 2 hours this year.  He accidently turned his oven off and didn’t know.  It was almost as good as the year he told Greg to hold open the cooking bag while he put the turkey in it.  Greg held the bag open, Ben took the prepared turkey and dropped it in the bag.  The 30 pound turkey sailed straight through the bag without even slowing down and plopped on my floor, spilling oranges and seasoning all over.  We are not sure why we thought that bag was super strength, but it was a classic moment. 

12.  That Ivy zooms around the kitchen on her bike.

13. That Angie and I both separately made list blogs tonight without knowing the other one did.

and

14. That I have a picture of both my kids in the same predicament.

I am happy.

I am my plant

This poor plant of mine.  I glanced over to it a few days ago and found it in the sad state above.  This is not a plant that sits in a dark corner somewhere in a room I don’t go in, but rather it sits next to the front door.  I see it everyday and somehow managed to forget to water it for who knows how long.  Actually, I didn’t forget to water it, I just couldn’t find the time to water it.  That sounded ridiculous in my head and even more so in print.  How could I not find time to water a plant, it takes all of 30 seconds. 

I couldn’t find the time because every now and then I feel like my plant looks.  A baby who is always happy as long as she is being held or looked at, a son who is always busy, a little girl who is always nearby, work that cannot wait, cleaning to be done, groceries to be bought, lessons to go to, and so on and so on leave me feeling like that plant. 

The last few weeks I have only been good at one thing, if the house is clean, I am behind on my work and the kids are orphans; if my work is caught up, the house is the aftermath of a tornado and the kids have fed themselves all day; if I have stocked shelves full of healthy delicious food with planned meals for the day, all my clients are mad and the house is just plain awful; if I decide to get rid of it all and work on Christmas ornaments to fill my advent calendar, we eat take-out and get dressed in the laundry room from the clothes in the dryer. 

It doesn’t take long after those 30 seconds I took to water the poor guy and he starts to look like this.  There is a little more life, it has picked itself off the ground and has probably come to the realization that some days you are watered and some days you are not.     

Today the house is clean, the laundry is done, my work is done, there is a chocolate peanut butter banana snack waiting for us in the fridge, there is a tent to play in that I made, we ate healthy all day and all the kids are happy.  

Tomorrow may be one of those days when all the water is gone and I drag myself on the ground.  We may eat terribly, barely get dressed, go late to school, watch the house fall to pieces and struggle just to get through to the end. 

Either way is ok because I am coming to the realization that some days you are watered and some days you are not and it is not good or bad, it is just the kind of day it is.

2 Months & How Could this Be?

My son did something the other day that I NEVER thought he would do.  It was terrible.  The story goes like this:
About a month ago or so, someone from the church that we would go to if we went to church brought by a baby blanket for us.  We started talking and she mentioned that she had three boys, ages 8 ,6, and 4.  I explained how Owen only had girl friends and that it may be fun to get together sometime for them to play. 
Then a few weeks later or so, she stopped by one night with cookies and brought her boys and her husband.  The boys and Ivy played great together and Greg and I had a nice time visiting.
Then on Tuesday we went over to their house for an afternoon play date.  We had fun.  The kids played great again and I had a nice time visiting again. 
Then on that same Tuesday it most likely became our last play date there.  After a few hours it was time to go.  I asked Owen to please clean up all the cars that they had been playing with and take them back upstairs.  He agreed fairly easily and loaded up his hands with cars.  After taking them upstairs, he came down with his hands in his coat pockets and said he was done and we could go.  After taking one look at him, I asked without question what he was doing.  He not so calmly replied nothing and said he was done helping.  Knowing my son so well, I responded with a statement sort of like, ok, well make good choices so we can come back and left it at that.  He marched outside and one of the boys followed. I continued to get ready to leave and help Ivy put on her coat and it was then that Owen came back inside and said to my dismay: “At least I gave it back.”  Shocked, I replied, “WHAT!”, to which he again said, “at least I gave it back.”.  And it was then that the little boy showed me his sheriff car from Cars the Movie (which he informed me he loved earlier in the play date).  I looked at the mom unable to really know what to say or do and then she said, “at least he was honest” and I said, “except that he still tried to steal your toy and it still made its way into his pocket” and then I just said, “well goodbye” (cause what else can you say in that situation to some people that come from your church that you have seen twice in your life). 
Then we discussed the incident.  I let him know that this could perhaps be our last time to play with his new friends, we discussed how he would feel if people came to his house and stole his toys, we talked about what happens when you steal when you are older, we discussed his feelings after someone stole my ipod, and we discussed that he probably doesn’t want to be known as the kid who steals other people’s toys or he will have a short list of invites over to their houses. 
So, to focus on the “at least giving it back” part rather than the making it into his pocket part, I told him that we could try to be friends with them, but that he had to write a sorry letter to them and deliver it to them himself.  And he did:

(Dear Sam Tyler and Caleb, I am really really sorry for almost stealing your toy.  From Owen Leigh. I won’t do it again.  I hope we can play again soon.)

He came back to the car and was happy to report that they forgave him and they said they would still be his friend. 
Before we left we had a big discussion about leaving.  I asked him to please get ready to leave when I asked him to.  He said he would, and surprisingly he did.  I had no idea that we had to have a discussion about not stealing our friend’s toys. 
He seemed to understand this was bad, he swears he will never do it again, but just in case, if you invite us over, beware.

And yet again, here is the post-edit of this post.  I could not find any stats on my blog for Autumn at 1 month (they are now added to the end of a post) and for her at 2 months.  So, as I said before, for the future:

Height: 22.3 inches: 45%
Weight: 10 lbs 5 oz: 34%
Head: 39 cm: 55%

Same Age Take Two

Farewell Little Friend

It has been 8 weeks and it is time to admit it…T.J. (my cat) is gone.  16 years together and it didn’t end the way I wanted it to. 

T.J. became an outside cat a year or so ago after living his whole life inside.  There is only so much one person can take and cleaning up after kids all day left nothing for the cat.  I couldn’t do the laundry anymore and have litter stuck to my feet.  He had to go outside.  For a year or more, probably closer to two, he lived in the garage.  He would go out in the morning and would come home at night, until a few days before the baby was born.  She was born on a Thursday.  The last time we saw him was Tuesday.  He left in the morning and never came home that night. 

I always envisioned his death would be sad – after all, until I had Owen, for 10 years he was my baby.  He slept with me EVERY night (not just on the bed, but snuggled up to me as close as he could get).  He was a little more like a dog than a cat.  He would come when I called him, he loved to play, and he let me know when he wanted something.  He was everything to me; but as much as I swore it wouldn’t happen, having kids put him lower on the list.  (well having kids and the fact that he peed on the outside of his box as much as he did on the inside and that is enough to drive a person insane)

He drove me nuts but I still loved him.  He was getting old and especially went downhill after his cat died last year.  He was deaf and his kidneys were starting to fail, in fact, I took him to the vet for a check-up the week before he disappeared.  He would often be found wandering around outside with no destination and no where to go.  I had thought about putting him down to make sure nothing bad happened.

But I didn’t get to say good-bye and I didn’t get to decide to put him down and make sure he was safe.  As much as he drove me crazy, I wanted to make sure he was safe.  Now, I will always wonder.  I dream he comes back all the time and I still look for him when I drive down the street.  I just wanted things to end a little differently.  I miss him and wish I could have said good-bye.  If I could have, it would have been something like this:

Dear T.J.,

When I got you for Christmas 16 years ago, I was so happy.  You were so little and so full of life.  You loved to play and cuddle and I loved you so much.  Everyone that met you loved you and thought you were the cutest cat.  You were always up to something and caused me my fair share of bills, like the eye infections you had for the first year of your life (I really think you were allergic to those other two cats we lived with), or the time you fell into a pot of boiling water, or the time we woke up and you had a puncture wound on your chin (the vet probably still believes you got in a fight with an animal, still not sure how that animal would have broken into the apartment).  I loved taking you places in the car like a dog and I loved that you would meow at me the minute I walked in the door and wait for me to pick you up to say hello. I am still not sure why you always hated little kids (and would bite them any chance you got) or why you hated your back to be pet. 

Before you go, I want to tell you I am sorry.  I am sorry that I had to close you out of the room after Owen was born.  I am sorry that I had to move you to the garage to live.  I am sorry that you probably felt that I didn’t love you anymore.  I did love you.  I still love you.  You will always have a special place in my heart. 

I am sorry that I didn’t get to take care of you at the end.  I hope you didn’t suffer.  I hope you weren’t scared.  I hope you weren’t looking for me and wondering where I was.  I would have come if I could have.  I hope you know that. 

I h0pe you are in a better place and can jump and play again.  You were my little pal I will forever love you.

me.

We are Warm

It is cold outside, but never fear, we are warm.  We have a new furnace. 

My bids came in bright and early the next day after our troubles began.  We opted for a furnace and the heat pump.  I couldn’t resist.  I did learn that it was quite a bit more money than I originally thought, but no matter, I am not sure I have a limit when it comes to my comfort.  I may never turn the air on in the summer, but I am a fan of having the ability to do so if I want to. 

So, welcome heat pump, bring on the summer months and thank you new furnace for doing such a wonderful job and not leaking gas into my house. 

(oh and as a side, thank you water meter outside for breaking at the city’s expense and giving me a month of free water.)

The Good, the Bad and the Good Again

First the Good:

This smiling baby who turned 6 weeks old today. 

She has been smiling since about 4 weeks.  I was holding her today and getting ready to take Owen to school.  Each time I looked down at her I found her smiling at me.  There is something so sweet about a baby smiling. 

She still loves to be held a lot and has permanently made her way into the bed to sleep with me (although, that didn’t take much work or convincing on her part).  Owen says he is glad she is a girl cause girls are cuter than boys.  Ivy still doesn’t understand personal space and thinks kisses on the baby’s head with her binky in are still super special.  We switched to Tide Free and Clear and her bumpy rash on her body has started to go away.  Life with her is good.   

Happy 6 weeks teeny one.

Now the Bad: (which has nothing to do with the good, I just wanted to remember the good when thinking about the stress of the bad)

I was working the other day and kept smelling a gas smell at my desk coming through the vent.  Greg couldn’t smell it (not that I was surprised).  I have been waiting for the furnace to have a problem and was concerned that the smell was coming through the vent from the garage.  Time for a service call.  We knew the furnace was on its last legs.  It was the one thing that was not new or replaced with the house when the previous owners remodeled the entire place.  It was only a matter of time. 

Well, the guy came out today while I was at work and apparently it was time.  Through a series of text messages with Kristi I was informed the heater was NO longer.  Shut off.  In fact, the diagnostic notes include a statement that says: Furnace is Dangerous.  Lovely.  We have been living in the house with a DANGEROUS furnace.  Tonight we have no heat. (I would gladly have no heat than a dangerous furnace.)  I am waiting for an email tomorrow containing a bid as to the replacement cost of the new furnace.  So tonight, we are dressed in sweatshirts, heaters are going and we have a fire (thank heavens the fire didn’t mean the end of all of us with gas in the house).  Hopefully the new furnace will be up and functional by tomorrow.

Which leads me to the good again: (which is actually the good and the bad again)

We have wanted air conditioning for some time now.  I hate to be hot and not be able to do anything about it.  Not a lot of people have air conditioning around here, but who cares what other people do, I hate to be hot.  We have talked about that time when we replace the furnace, to add a heat pump, which saves on gas costs during the winter and then functions as an air conditioner during the summer.  Well, that time has come, and we have to decide.  A furnace alone is around $2000 while the heat pump makes it about $5,000.  Merry Christmas to me? So the good – I may have the air conditioning I have always dreamed about.  The bad – I really didn’t want to spend $5,000 right now (but then again, is there a price tag on comfort when you HATE to be hot – probably not).   So tomorrow we decide, but I think I already know the answer and I am so excited.

So, tonight I will forget the price, forget about the freezing night we may have because how can you care about any of that when you have this:

and I will throw in these guys for extra help in not caring.

1 Month & Only a Lunch

Owen goes to school full day on Mondays and Fridays.  On those two days I have to pack him a lunch.  He is so picky that his lunch is usually pretty boring and is often the same thing every time.  I was packing the same peanut butter sandwich, container of goldfish and a granola bar on Friday when Owen looked at me and said, “Can I have a note?”
And then it went like this:
“Yes, I can write you a note.”
“Everyone always has a note, Gavin, Austin, (and named about four other kids), everyone but me.”
“Well, that is terrible! I didn’t know you could read the note so I didn’t put one in”
“My teacher helps us read it.  Mom, everyone has a note and all I have is a lunch.”
My poor son without a note, he had to ask for a note. 
I am awesome. 

This is a post-edit blog.  I went to find out how much Autumn weighed at 1 month only to discover that I NEVER posted it.  I cannot let her be the "third", the one with nothing recorded and no pictures.  That being said, for the future:

Height: 21 inches = 44%
Weight: 8 lbs 10 oz = 30%
Head: 37 1/2 cm = 60%

Vegetablearian

I love Owen.

Owen: “Mom, did you know Austin from school is a vegetarian?”

Me: “No, I didn’t realize that.”

Owen: “He is.  He is a vegetarian just like me.”

Me: “Like you? Owen, I don’t think you are a vegetarian.”

Owen: “Yes I am.  I don’t like ANY vegetables.”

3 Weeks

I love 3 weeks old.  I love it because this little stranger who has come to live with us is no longer quite a stranger.  When she first arrived, the only thing I knew about her was that I loved her beyond measure, and now, well now I know more.

I know that she likes to wake up twice in a night, usually around 2:00 and 5:00, to eat.  I know that she spits up more than I think she should after she eats.  I know that she doesn’t like to be naked.  I know she likes to sleep with her hands by her face.  I know that when she starts to get really tired she gets fussy and to stop the fussiness she likes to be dressed, wrapped up tight in her blanket (with her hands able to get free) with her binky and snuggled in close.  I know that she likes to sleep in her bouncy seat.  I know that she likes soft piano music. 

I love learning what she likes and doesn’t like. 

I also know some new things about the other two.

Ivy loves to put her face too close to the baby.  She also loves to kiss the baby while leaving her own binky in.  Ivy loves to decide what the baby is going to wear.  Owen loves to hold the baby but wants to make sure she is done spitting up before I give her to him.  He cannot stop kissing her head.  

They love her. 

I love her! 

She looks like the others

Here are all the kids at 3 days old.  Baby fits right in.

OWEN:

IVY:

AUTUMN:

She is Here!!

At 40 weeks 1 day, on Thursday 9/29/11 at 8:20 pm, little Autumn Emily arrived.  She weighed 7 pounds 12 ounces and was 18.75 inches long.  And I could not be happier.

As I crept closer and closer to my due date, I decided to talk to my dr. about how far past that date I should go.  Ivy was 8 pounds 3 ounces and the idea of going past my due date and having a baby bigger than that was a little overwhelming to me.  My dr. is very conservative and I felt he wouldn’t do the induction unless he felt it was the right thing for me.  Without any hesitation, he suggested that we schedule it for the day he would be on call at the hospital – 40 weeks and 1 day along.  I scheduled it, but with some hesitation and some hope that it wouldn’t come to that.  Most people would be thrilled with the prospect of the certainty of being done, and don’t get me wrong, I was excited about this idea, but concerned about picking her birthday and scheduling her birth before she was ready.  Hopefully she would come on her own. 

The week went by with no sign of labor, no broken water, no contractions, nothing.  My due date of 9/28 came and went, still nothing.  This lead us to 9/29 – the induction date.  The hospital was set to call me if they had something available.  At about 8:30 I got the call to come in.  Doubt crept back in and I asked if I could think about it for 5 minutes and call back.  I am sure they talked about me after we hung up, about that insane girl who was gong to think things through.  I called Greg and he said go.  I called Angie and we talked it through, at the same time we both said I should go.  It came down to me being past the due date and if any risks were going to come from something, I felt there were more if I waited than went in.  Within a few minutes the plans were set, Angie would be here within the hour to watch the kids, Greg was on his way home to get me and the hospital was expecting me around 10:00. 

We arrived and checked in, and I can say it was nice to be driving and checking in without wet pants and water dripping down my leg from my broken water with both of the other kids.  Definite bonus of this plan. 

With the kids safe with Angie and on their way to the Dr. to have a strep test done for Owen (it was positive, awesome timing), Greg and I got checked in, answered a million questions about my medical history, the birth of the other kids, and this and previous pregnancies, got the IV, started Pitocin and came to the realization that there was no turning back and within a few hours (give or take), she would be here. 

My first nurse took things really slow.  I was progressing slowly but moving along.  I had decided without a doubt that I wanted the epidural and as soon as it was possible.  In the past I held off getting it.  I have no idea why but decided I would be getting it early this time through.  BRILLIANT decision.  Getting an epidural with horrible contractions happening is awful.  Getting an epidural with minimal contractions is so much better. 

After the epidural, my dr. broke my water and a little more progress was made over the next few hours. Around 7:00 that night it was time for the nurse change, and the new nurse, Lacey, is part of the reason that I now believe going in this day was the best decision I could have made.

She started out by moving me to a new position to get things going and she turned up the Pitocin a little.  While she was reviewing the charts and the monitors the contractions started coming much faster and much sooner.  She said she was going to come back and check me in 2 hours.  That was not happening.  I told her to check then.  I had gone from a 6 to a 10 in about 25 minutes. It was time to start pushing. 

The experience at this point was totally different than the other two.  She turned down the lights and it was just her, Greg and I.  There were no rules about taking a breath and counting to ten or who was going to hold my legs or who should do what and stand where.  She just let me figure it out and do what I wanted without even saying that, she just let things happen.  With Owen I was so numb that I couldn’t feel the contractions or the pressure and had to have everyone tell me when to push and because I was so numb I didn’t know how to push.  After pushing forever he was pulled out with forceps.  With Ivy, things started happening so fast, there were suddenly a lot of people in the room.  I was told to push while someone counted to ten and always told me to do one more breath.  In between pushes everyone sat and talked to each other.  I felt a lot of pressure to do things a certain way and eventually the dr. suggested using the vacuum to get her out.  With this baby, I pushed for 40 minutes.  Most of that time was with my new favorite nurse and Greg.  There was no one talking between pushes unless I wanted to.  There was an undeniable calm in the room and a connection between Greg and I.   My dr. was there for the last three pushes and she was here.  Having my dr. and this nurse be a part of the process turned a horrible part of being pregnant for me into something totally different.  I cannot thank this nurse enough for her part in making this experience what it was.   (and I am ever so emotional today and I cannot stop the tears as I write this). 

Baby was cleaned up, weighed, measured and checked out. Greg got to hold her for about five minutes before he left to take care of the other kids and I got her to myself for a little while longer.  We both suffered through the long hospital night being checked every few hours and gladly welcomed the sun and new day. 

The new day brought on visitors and it was quickly apparent that her brother and sister could not get enough of her. We anxiously awaited our check-out time as we could not wait to bring her home and love on her more here.  We left the hospital that night around 6:00 to start our new life as a family of 5 and as that gets underway, as I mentioned above, we could not be happier. 

Birthday Baseball

My husband LOVES to play baseball.  I mean really LOVES it.  He plays on a league where they all play as though they are professionals.  So you can imagine my joy when I went to the baseball website to look up a game location and found an announcement for a great opportunity.  It was a chance to play a game at Safeco field, the home of the Mariners on my birthday.  The game would be against other players in the league, they would have use of the visitor’s locker room, a professional announcer, a concession stand open, introductions and the national anthem… all for a not so small fee. 

Who cares!  Happy early birthday present to Greg!

Yesterday was Greg’s real birthday.  It probably sucked.  He was sick, I am days away from a baby and not the nicest I have been in my life, he already got his present, he had to do the dishes and we didn’t even make a cake.  The day he turned 36 could go down as one of the worst birthdays yet.  

Hopefully the posting of his dream day will bring back the wonderful memories and we can pretend that was his birthday instead.

Oh, and p.s. Greg, I love you.  (does that help?)