The end of 5 days of near disaster and Memorial day

It is Memorial day today and on that subject, I have this to say:

Somewhere in Arlington National Cemetery is a stone for a man I never met, but for whom my father is named. His plane went down in the Bermuda triangle and all souls aboard were lost. No trace ever found. My grandfather, his brother, told me from that day on, he knew what he would name his first son and that his father, my great grandfather, until the day he died, never gave up hope that his son would walk through the door some day. In memory of George Allen Terrell, and others who gave their lives in service, we remember this day.

It is also the end of Matt's annual trip to BONESAW (you gotta say it that way), which is a weekend away with his brothers and other like minded men to play board games and eat a lot of meat.  It is also the end of the longest five days of my life.  Well, perhaps not of my life, but home alone with the three monkeys for 5 days was pretty rough.  If something could go wrong, it went wrong.  Here's the crazy list.

• I got severely sunburned at the pool, in spite of sunscreen.  (not a disaster, but pretty painful) 
• Kid #2 had a near drowning experience at that same pool.  Thankfully he did not aspirate any water.
• Kid #2 finally figured he could unlock and open the front door, and Kid #3 (who is an infant) went on a walkabout without me.  Thankfully I caught him halfway down the tall front porch steps and he didn't make it to the street, or crack his head open falling down the steps.
• AC went out.  On a Friday night, just before a holiday weekend.  Grateful that they came on Saturday to fix it!
• Kid #3 eschewed sleeping during the day in favor of staying up all day and freaking out and being a grump.  I put the kibosh on that pretty quickly.  Mama ain't got time for all that.
• AC guy and electrician arrived at just the same moment to fix different things.  It felt pretty chaotic.  Thankful that all the work got done.  (It was in this chaos that the baby escaped.)
• New tenant moved in to our little cottage and promptly clogged the toilet.  She called me at 7am on Sunday.  I think she saw my kitchen light come on and figured I was awake.  (The one down side of being so close to our rental.  Most everything else is an up side.) Actually I am pretty sure this one was my fault for trying a trick I read about which is to leave a small piece of Magic Eraser in the toilet bowl to dissolve and it will take out stubborn stains.  I guess it didn't dissolve (and was too big of a piece) and someone tried to flush it.  A quick tutorial via youtube and I was off to the hardware store for a toilet auger with my three monkeys.  They stayed buckled in the car right outside the cottage door while I snaked the toilet.  My tenant, a cute, tiny little gal, called me "Quite the woman!!"  I didn't argue.  The weekend was feeling like a Herculean feat at that point.
• On Friday, I got an email reminder from our children's director that I was scheduled to work in the church nursery and since this was the last Sunday on the schedule, there really wasn't anyone to switch with.  She kindly reminded us of the verse, "Do all things without grumbling or disputing. (Phil 2:14)" and so I emailed back to say me and all the kids would be in my nursery class together.  Sunday night rolled around and we all made it there on time and had a pretty good evening with 6 other 18mo-2 yr olds.  Kid #3 only escaped once and another mom grabbed him up for me and brought him back by the time I realized he was gone.  That kid.  We are gonna need a fence.

We made it.  I'm glad.  I'm tired.  I am thankful.  I am going to bed early.

Coming out of hibernation : : A Winter Recap

Warning....Photo bomb!

It has been a long, long, cold winter.  I'm currently popping vitamin D just to say ahead of the dark and gloomy days.  Spring is just around the corner and I am OH, SO GRATEFUL for that.

We had some rough times this winter.

Our cat (Gizmo) went to live with family members.

 

Our dog (Freckles) went to heaven to steal pizza crusts from the heavenly hosts during family movie night.

The pipes froze, several times.

We had wild weather with tornado warnings. We hung out in our "safe place".

And we spent most of February sick.  Almost all of us. Boo.  (But we snuggled everyone a lot.)

Not that we haven't had a good time around here.

There were heaps of good books.

Little girls totally overawed by teen ballerinas.

Chores turned into fun by hilarious kiddos.

A baby "baptism", or dedication, if you will

"Snow" days. (A small dusting, a few times)

Fabulous holidays with far off family come to visit.

Wonderfully terrible Christmas photos. (Seriously.  Not a good one in the bunch.  They remind me of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbs.)

A 3rd Birthday.

Amazing art projects.

Epic sheet forts.

A ballet recital.

The ever blossoming friendship between these two.

And these two.

And these two.

And a whole lot of this wonderful girl, who is growing up on me, all sneaky-like, when I'm not looking.  My right hand gal, my perpetual conversationalist, my snuggler, my inventor, and queen bee/gang ringleader of this rabble.

And this boy, who is the sweetest boy.  Who is my guy, my wild boy, my tenderhearted, fearless one.

And this baby boy, who is amazingly strong, non stop motion, giggly sweetness, and mischief.  He has charmed us all!

And this guy.  My heart.  My love.
 

Who is just IN it with this parenting stuff!

 

 On the whole, we made it. We survived. Now March...enough of this Lion business, I am ready for the Lamb.

 

One more.  Just for good measure.

 

Mother's Day 2013

My mother's day was spent in a new way this year.  With this crew.  Peter was just 2 weeks old and we were still taking it very easy.  But we went to breakfast and the park and had an impromptu photo shoot.  It was a beautiful day to be a mama.

Peter's Birth Story

This little boy was brought into the world with laughter on the night of the pink full moon.  There was no laughter during labor, but laughing started it off.  On Wednesday night, the 24th, I went to bed early feeling extra tired, but decided to check facebook before bed.  Of course that got me reading and I ended up reading an article with hilarious autocorrect mistakes that people made on their phones.  I can't find the link now, but suffice it to say, I laughed so hard that I had to finish reading it in the bathroom.  I thought I had compromised my bladder laughing.  Seriously.  When I got up later that night at 2am, I felt a little gush, but since it wasn't a big gush I thought it was my bladder.  Turns out I was wrong.

I woke up on the morning of the 25th and realized pretty quickly that I was in labor.  A very random, disorganized labor that would last all day, on an off.  Matt worked from home and took us all for a walk that morning, where I realized that my water had REALLY broken since I didn't make it down the block without soaking my pants.

A kind friend, Jaime, took the kids for the afternoon around 3:30pm and that is when my body decided to get down to business.  It felt like I could finally concentrate on what was happening.  Our doula, Lauren, came over and within just a few hours, my contractions got very close together and we both thought I had transitioned.  I had all the signs.  Close, long, and intense contractions, vomiting, hot and cold flashes.  I had hoped to stay home long enough that when I got to the hospital, I would be almost ready to push.  God had other plans though. 

8:30pm We took a very not fun trip to the hospital with Lauren in the back seat with a bowl in her lap and me hanging over the back of the passenger seat and Matt holding me up while driving.  Every bump and turn brought another contraction.  We got there and though my contractions were a minute or less apart, I was only 4-5 cm.  I wanted to cuss everyone in that room out.  I thought for sure I was nearly ready to push.  I had done 29 hours with Judah before I wanted some kind of relief from labor, but it had only really been 4 hours of regular labor and I was losing it.  The contractions were stronger and more intense than I had ever felt with the other children.

9:30pm I asked for nitrous oxide, which they warned me would not really take the pain away, but just make me not care.  This was a very accurate description.  Essentially I felt like I was stoned out of my head and the contractions still hurt like hell, but I just didn't give a crap.  Matt had to hold me up while on my birthing ball so I didn't fall over.  I heard Matt and Lauren comment about how 'high' I was and I wanted to laugh, but couldn't really concentrate on laughing while having a contraction and trying to huff that gas.  It wasn't really working.  I finally asked for an epidural and though at the time I felt like I was chickening out of "real labor", it was really all I could do.  My blood pressure was on the rise and I felt like I could not continue with the crazy contractions.

10:30pm I get half of an epidural, which just worked on the left side.  There are some drawbacks to birthing at a teaching hospital.  But they fixed it eventually and both sides went numb.

11pm I felt better, but the baby started having late decelerations, which were worrisome for the medical professionals watching him.  They give me oxygen and his heart rate improves for awhile.

After that, the rest of the birth is a blur, but sometime after midnight, Peter's heart rate became more and more worrisome and they took me to the O.R., just in case.  I progressed all the way to 9cm and the midwife is trying to help me still do it naturally, but Peter's heart rate was getting slower and slower with every passing minutes and the Docs made the call.  Another C-section.  They turned up the meds and my arms and part of my lungs went numb.  It was rough.  I felt like I couldn't breathe and was so woozy and doped.  I remember hearing Peter's first cries when he came out at 12:54am.  I remember the nurse saying that he peed on the doctor.  I remember they said his cord had gone ahead of him in the birth canal and he was pinching it off with each contraction, thus the decelerations.  I remember his little crumpled, red, sweet face next to mine, and him not happy about being out in the cold world.  He went away with Matt to be cleaned up and I doze in and out of a panicked, scary sleep where I felt like my lungs weren't working, gagging because I can't swallow all the way, even though they kept telling me I was at 100% oxygen saturation.  They got me put back together and wheeled me to recovery, where I got to hold and nurse Peter for the first time, with help because I couldn't sit up or feel my hands.

But he was strong, and healthy and we both recovered quickly and well.  There were things to mourn about this birth. I am not able to fully nurse this baby either, even though I am making more milk than ever before, and for a very short time I felt bad that I had to have another C-Section and that I felt like I was not strong enough to labor all the way through, but you know what?  I don't feel that way now.  There is so much more to rejoice for.

My labor signs got ahead of where I was in terms of dilation, but in hind sight, I believe that was God's way of keeping Peter safe.  He knew my water had broken early that morning and that the cord was ahead of him.  He knew that Peter might be in trouble if I spent too much time at home, stubbornly waiting to get far enough along so I could just push when I got there, so I wouldn't have to be monitored (because I hate that part!).  I'm grateful for how things turned out.  I am grateful for our beautiful, healthy son.  And there are small blessings to having a C-section.  Like not having post partum incontinence, for example!  It's nice to not pee my pants. Just sayin'!  So here he is.  Our littlest guy.  Peter Israel.
(Photo overload to come! *Mama and Papa, just let it load for awhile. :) )

A blur...and a baby

Our third baby is here.  I'm working on a fancy post with photos, his birth story and all that, but for now, I'll tell you this much:

Peter Israel Evans was born on the night of a "pink" full moon (and lunar eclipse if we lived in Europe or Africa), April 26th at 12:54am, weighing 7 lb, 5 oz and measuring 20 inches long (21 inches if you ask his pediatrician, who measured him 5 days later and declared him an inch longer).  It was an unexpected C-section instead of a second vbac, but I'm OK with that.  He is here and beautiful.  The entire thing is big blur of time and images and thoughts that I am collecting for later.  I'm sifting through them like sand, sorting them and arranging them in my mind. 

So for now.  A self portrait of me and my new little guy, taken the day he was born.

More to come.  When I find the time in the middle of all this chaos!

Right here. Right now.

Are we near the end of this pregnancy?  Who knows.  None of my previous babies made it this far into the pregnancy.  Today I'm 39 weeks and 3 days.  Judah was 38 weeks and Cora was just 35.  Physically I'm OK.  In fact, I'm better that I ever was with either of the two before in terms of how well I feel on a day to day basis, but I am tired of keeping the house/fridge/car/laundry in a constant state of readiness. 

Each day brings "practice labor" and I'm ready to be done practicing and move on to the real thing.  I know, he's still growing/baking/packing on the lbs and I SHOULD remember that it is easier to take care of him on the inside than on the outside, but OH I am so ready to hold this little guy.  I am SO ready for the kids to meet him and SO ready for the family time that follows the birth of a child around here.  Inlaws and friends visit and Matt is home from work for weeks on end.  It's hard and good and wonderful and tiring, all at once.  I love it.

I've always been one to look ahead to the next thing, the next day, the next event, the next wonder, missing what is right under my nose.  And what is right underneath my nose is so delicious and in need of Mama, even if Mama's mind is drifting ahead to the future.

Judah's vocabulary grows and grows, even if most of what he talks about centers around Lightning McQueen and Thomas the Tank Engine and all his (Thomas's) friends (I try not to feel like his TV habit is a total parenting fail after making it 2 yrs with no TV for my oldest.  Sigh).  He loves to snuggle with me in the morning and puts his face just next to my face and smiles his little smile that crinkles his eyes into half moons.

Then we read "'Dog Go' by P.E. Basement". Every morning.  Until a car outside distracts him and then he's off to the window, telling me what he sees.  He wants to wrestle and play rough with Cora and she has no desire to.  None.  And it usually makes her start howling and tattling.  Judah doesn't understand that at all.  He's just being a rough an tumble boy!  We practice gentleness a lot. And in truth, he's still so very small and has so much to learn.

Cora wants to be big and yet get equal treatment to her younger brother, who is still learning the rules she master long ago, all the time.  We have lots of conversations about either being the big girl, or the baby, but not both.

I remind her of the benefits of being oldest, but she quickly forgets, reverting to baby talk she never used, even as a baby, but Judah did, and sometimes throws fits just to match her brother's fit.  Lord, give me patience.  The sassiness wears me out!

We talk a lot about her heart and her attitude and finding beauty there, rather than in princess clothes and sparkly shoes.(Although she has those too.) She cranks out around 30 drawings per day of people and places and friends and parties and fairies etc. My art stack grows and grows! ( Don't worry. I save the favorites.) Her questions are deep and somber and often out of the blue. She loves in a different way than my boy and her love is quiet and sweet and tenderhearted, not the run-by strangle hugs that Judah gives. It's easy to lose that quiet love in the wild wrestling of a two year old boy whose joyful exuberance is often louder than she has any desire to be. So we find time in the quiet moments together.

It will all change soon. A little one will be between Matt and I in the bed again, taking all our extra moments.  And while I love change, I love these moments too. And I get to practice being right here. Right now. For a little bit longer.