I started getting really stressed tonight about having people over for games (house not cleaned, desserts not made yet, etc.); since stress is one of my triggers for PPD episodes, I canceled game night and did a movie/popcorn night with my babies. After prayers, B2 said, "Mom, it's kinda funny. Earlier you were so mad at us, and now you're so nice." I'm glad I followed through on canceling game night so I could have this time with my kids.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Funny Things B2 Says
Regarding his fishing trip with Grandpa White this summer, B2 said:
"Fishing was a lot of fun. Too bad we only caught seaweed."
PPD
You know those times when you're scrolling through Facebook, and you see an image or a message or a video, and it's like someone might as well have tagged you and said they were posting it for you. Well, that happened to me the other day when I saw this.
[Source]
Hi, my name is Sandy, and I have Postpartum Depression.
Phew. That was hard.
I first saw my doctor back in May, when E was only 2.5 months old. As I described what I had been feeling, and some experiences that frankly had scared me, she said it sure sounded like PPD, but I still clung on to the hope that I was "normal." I got a prescription for an antidepressant, but didn't fill it. Instead, I kept battling, thinking that if I just tried to do X, Y, or Z, that I'd be fine, and it would go away on its own and I'd be back to myself.
A month later, and I wasn't better. I was getting worse, and I was getting more desperate. I filled the prescription, but still didn't take it. Why? Oh, a million reasons. I was worried that the thoughts I was already having about hurting myself would turn into full-blown suicidal attempts (or completion), and that terrified me. I was afraid of the stigma (entirely, and falsely, perceived in my own mind, and not an actual stigma laid upon me by anyone else) of being "mentally ill." I was afraid to admit that I couldn't control my emotions, that I was so "weak" as to need a pill to make me happy. And so on. Yes, my reasons were stupid. As someone with a Masters degree in Psychology, I should know better. I should know that the only "stigma" associated with mental illness comes from ignorant people, not smart people. I should know that medication truly can help. I should know that having PPD is no different than having cancer, or the flu. But for some reason I was holding myself to a different standard, and I was miserable.
Finally, last week, I couldn't take it anymore. I was having depressive episodes several times a week, I was having a very hard time going to church, and on my "happy" days I felt like I couldn't catch up from how little I was able to do on my bad days. And, now, I can even see how much it was hurting my family. My kids were grumpy, my husband was stressed--it was just too much. I took the pill. I've been taking the antidepressant for a week now. Yes, it's probably a little early to know just how well it will work, and how many side effects I'll see, but it truly has made a difference. My husband isn't afraid to open the door, wondering which version of his wife he'll see--the normal, happy one, or the barely functioning one, crying in the bedroom while the kids run amok in the rest of the house. I had the first happy Sunday I've had in a long time. I can make it through my whole day, including dinners where the kids don't like what I've cooked and the bedtime routine (and associated hundreds of repetitions of "Go to bed!") with a smile still on my face. For the first time in months, I'm actually convinced I'll beat this, rather than dreading that I won't. I'm able to smile every day, and mean it.
I'm not trying to argue that antidepressants are for everyone. I'm not 100% sure that I'll continue to not have side effects, or that I'll never have another bad day. But, I do know this: I have PPD. As I've seen the outpouring of love from my neighbors and family, I've also realized that the "stigma" was entirely in my head. No one looks down on me for needing these meds--it's okay to get medical help for medical problems. As Elder Holland said, "If you had appendicitis, God would expect you to seek a priesthood blessing and get the best medical care available. So too with emotional disorders. Our Father in Heaven expects us to use all of the marvelous gifts He has provided in this glorious dispensation." [source] This talk was one that I felt did not apply to me at the time it was given, but was extremely comforting in the days before I finally agreed to take the medication.
So, there you have it. I'm talking about my PPD. I hope that this will help someone gain the courage to talk about her PPD, or get the help she needs.
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Positive Thinking
I was challenged on Facebook by my mom to write 3 positives per day
for 5 days. I completed it, and I wanted to record it here as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1st
1.) I've been in bed all day with a super awesome cold, and B2 fed D and A both lunch and dinner, and kept an eye on E while I did as little as possible.
2.) My mommy is still here, cancer-free, nearly 9 years after her initial breast cancer diagnosis.
3.) It's September 1st, which means it's almost my birthday! Woo hoo!
September 2nd
1.) B1 came home tonight, and has the next two days off! After a 4-day trip last week, and a two-day this week (combined with me being sick), it'll be so nice to have him home!
2.) I got to go shopping today at Costco with only two children in tow. I didn't hear on every aisle, "Can we buy these chips? Can we buy these cookies? Do we need watermelon? Can I have some gum?" This was almost me: http://www.scarymommy.com/back-school-video/
3.) I'm still on track to earn my Young Women medallion this year. I got a little sidetracked by E being born, but I look forward to joining my beautiful Young Women at the medallion dinner in February.
September 3rd
1.) Had another testament to the fact that God answers our prayers, even the ones that may seem silly and minor.
2.) I can almost hold a pencil again after last night's journaling. Seriously, when did my hand become such a weakling? And how did I ever write stuff before I had computers?
3.) I have a computer that sits on my lap and allows to me avoid folding laundry by Facebooking instead.
September 4th
1.) Got to go with B2 on his field trip to the Utah State Fair. To quickly sum up the positives--he wanted me to ride on the bus and sit by him, we had a fun group and I only had to learn 2 new names, no lines, no pestering from the kids ("Can we ride that?" "Can I have a ridiculously-overpriced hot dog?"), and overall a really fun experience.
2.) Spent the afternoon building a volcano with Dallas--one-on-one, as B2 was at a friend's house, and A and E were napping.
3.) B1 finished insulating the basement--inspection tomorrow, and then we can start the drywall!
We'll overlook me dropping a rolling pin on my toe, running late for carpool this morning, and my wicked migraine tonight. It was still an awesome day.
September 5th
1.) Friends! While I don't think I have a hard time being friendly and cordial (most of the time), I have struggled with making true attachments with others. Moves are especially hard because I always wonder which people will care enough about me to make the effort to stay in touch and which will drop out of my life. I have been blessed with amazing friends--some from high school, some from college, and some more recent.
2.) I love those words and stories that bring fond memories of loved ones, like driving around in Jiggy randomly with Leslie, or why my car is named Elton, or remembering that the Wilk has great acoustics, and so on. I know I'm not super old or anything, but I have lived a great life so far.
3.) I love all the women that remind me that it's okay to be where and who I am--we can't all be perfect mothers with pristine counters and floors, with perfectly behaved genius children, with rich husbands, and "truly accomplished" in our hobbies. And you know what? That's okay. There's plenty to enjoy in life, even without all that perfection.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some days were easier than others to identify three positives. As I've been battling what I believe to be postpartum depression, I've found that sometimes there are some triggers to a depressive episode. The two worst triggers are allowing myself to lose my temper with my kids (that usually triggers a shame cycle, where I convince myself that I'm the worst mother ever, and then spend hours or sometimes longer battling the fear that they truly would be better off without me) and focusing on comparisons (Are my kids smarter than So-and-so's kids? Is my house cuter/bigger/fancier than So-and-so's house? Am I as fun/smart/pretty/hilarious/entertaining/friendly/etc as So-and-so?). But, as I was doing this challenge, I found it comforting to pull myself away from any negative thoughts, and any concerns over how I measure up, and simply focus on what was good in my life. I won't exaggerate and say that all my depression went out the window simply by stating 3 positive things on Facebook, but it did curtail it a bit, and this week has been better than some previous weeks have been. And so, let me record a few more positives.
September 6th
1.) The smile of a baby is the purest form of love. There are no judgments in my daughter's eyes--she doesn't grimace at the extra 15 pounds I'm carrying, or look down on me when I make a mistake. If she even sees the sadness that is sometimes behind my eyes, she just gives me a bigger grin than usual, to the point that I can feel the darkness recede and see the hope returning. There's just nothing like the unconditional and pure love that radiates from my daughter's face when she looks at me.
2.) There is something beautiful in everyone I have met. Some days it may be hard to see it, and some days I have to look past my own jealousy to be able to appreciate it, but I'm often amazed at the many beautiful acts I see. It may be something as simple as my neighbor behind me who is always cheerful and friendly--I doubt she's ever said an unkind thing about anyone. Then there are the friends I've made over the years, who remember my birthday, or make an effort to hang out with me, or who have served me in countless ways even when it was difficult for them. There are those I see who are struggling with all manner of physical illnesses and afflictions, yet they are optimistic they can either beat them or be happy in spite of them. I admire those who can ask for help, because I have a hard time admitting that I can't do it all on my own. I've watched neighbors plow sidewalks and driveways without being asked, watched those in my city pick up trash on the side of the road, and seen drivers in my neighborhood slow down and drive cautiously when children are out playing. These may seem like little things, but they show an unselfishness and consideration for others that I admire. So, while we are all flawed, and we all make mistakes, and sometimes we aren't the perfect examples of Christians that we know we ought to be, we are also good, wonderful people who are trying to be a little kinder, love a little more completely, and make our corner of the world a bit better, and that effort is worth recognizing and admiring.
3.) To end on a lighter note, I get to turn off my alarm tonight, and rise tomorrow morning to the sounds of my children rather than the obnoxious beeping of my alarm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1st
1.) I've been in bed all day with a super awesome cold, and B2 fed D and A both lunch and dinner, and kept an eye on E while I did as little as possible.
2.) My mommy is still here, cancer-free, nearly 9 years after her initial breast cancer diagnosis.
3.) It's September 1st, which means it's almost my birthday! Woo hoo!
September 2nd
1.) B1 came home tonight, and has the next two days off! After a 4-day trip last week, and a two-day this week (combined with me being sick), it'll be so nice to have him home!
2.) I got to go shopping today at Costco with only two children in tow. I didn't hear on every aisle, "Can we buy these chips? Can we buy these cookies? Do we need watermelon? Can I have some gum?" This was almost me: http://www.scarymommy.com/back-school-video/
3.) I'm still on track to earn my Young Women medallion this year. I got a little sidetracked by E being born, but I look forward to joining my beautiful Young Women at the medallion dinner in February.
September 3rd
1.) Had another testament to the fact that God answers our prayers, even the ones that may seem silly and minor.
2.) I can almost hold a pencil again after last night's journaling. Seriously, when did my hand become such a weakling? And how did I ever write stuff before I had computers?
3.) I have a computer that sits on my lap and allows to me avoid folding laundry by Facebooking instead.
September 4th
1.) Got to go with B2 on his field trip to the Utah State Fair. To quickly sum up the positives--he wanted me to ride on the bus and sit by him, we had a fun group and I only had to learn 2 new names, no lines, no pestering from the kids ("Can we ride that?" "Can I have a ridiculously-overpriced hot dog?"), and overall a really fun experience.
2.) Spent the afternoon building a volcano with Dallas--one-on-one, as B2 was at a friend's house, and A and E were napping.
3.) B1 finished insulating the basement--inspection tomorrow, and then we can start the drywall!
We'll overlook me dropping a rolling pin on my toe, running late for carpool this morning, and my wicked migraine tonight. It was still an awesome day.
September 5th
1.) Friends! While I don't think I have a hard time being friendly and cordial (most of the time), I have struggled with making true attachments with others. Moves are especially hard because I always wonder which people will care enough about me to make the effort to stay in touch and which will drop out of my life. I have been blessed with amazing friends--some from high school, some from college, and some more recent.
2.) I love those words and stories that bring fond memories of loved ones, like driving around in Jiggy randomly with Leslie, or why my car is named Elton, or remembering that the Wilk has great acoustics, and so on. I know I'm not super old or anything, but I have lived a great life so far.
3.) I love all the women that remind me that it's okay to be where and who I am--we can't all be perfect mothers with pristine counters and floors, with perfectly behaved genius children, with rich husbands, and "truly accomplished" in our hobbies. And you know what? That's okay. There's plenty to enjoy in life, even without all that perfection.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some days were easier than others to identify three positives. As I've been battling what I believe to be postpartum depression, I've found that sometimes there are some triggers to a depressive episode. The two worst triggers are allowing myself to lose my temper with my kids (that usually triggers a shame cycle, where I convince myself that I'm the worst mother ever, and then spend hours or sometimes longer battling the fear that they truly would be better off without me) and focusing on comparisons (Are my kids smarter than So-and-so's kids? Is my house cuter/bigger/fancier than So-and-so's house? Am I as fun/smart/pretty/hilarious/entertaining/friendly/etc as So-and-so?). But, as I was doing this challenge, I found it comforting to pull myself away from any negative thoughts, and any concerns over how I measure up, and simply focus on what was good in my life. I won't exaggerate and say that all my depression went out the window simply by stating 3 positive things on Facebook, but it did curtail it a bit, and this week has been better than some previous weeks have been. And so, let me record a few more positives.
September 6th
1.) The smile of a baby is the purest form of love. There are no judgments in my daughter's eyes--she doesn't grimace at the extra 15 pounds I'm carrying, or look down on me when I make a mistake. If she even sees the sadness that is sometimes behind my eyes, she just gives me a bigger grin than usual, to the point that I can feel the darkness recede and see the hope returning. There's just nothing like the unconditional and pure love that radiates from my daughter's face when she looks at me.
2.) There is something beautiful in everyone I have met. Some days it may be hard to see it, and some days I have to look past my own jealousy to be able to appreciate it, but I'm often amazed at the many beautiful acts I see. It may be something as simple as my neighbor behind me who is always cheerful and friendly--I doubt she's ever said an unkind thing about anyone. Then there are the friends I've made over the years, who remember my birthday, or make an effort to hang out with me, or who have served me in countless ways even when it was difficult for them. There are those I see who are struggling with all manner of physical illnesses and afflictions, yet they are optimistic they can either beat them or be happy in spite of them. I admire those who can ask for help, because I have a hard time admitting that I can't do it all on my own. I've watched neighbors plow sidewalks and driveways without being asked, watched those in my city pick up trash on the side of the road, and seen drivers in my neighborhood slow down and drive cautiously when children are out playing. These may seem like little things, but they show an unselfishness and consideration for others that I admire. So, while we are all flawed, and we all make mistakes, and sometimes we aren't the perfect examples of Christians that we know we ought to be, we are also good, wonderful people who are trying to be a little kinder, love a little more completely, and make our corner of the world a bit better, and that effort is worth recognizing and admiring.
3.) To end on a lighter note, I get to turn off my alarm tonight, and rise tomorrow morning to the sounds of my children rather than the obnoxious beeping of my alarm.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Funny Things D Says
"See that [Wii] game? It's called 'Punch Out.' Me and my brother play it all the time. It reminds us to punch out each other."
Friday, August 8, 2014
Facebook status turned blog post
"When in situations of stress we wonder if there is any more in us to
give, we can be comforted to know that God, who knows our capacity
perfectly, placed us here to succeed. No one was foreordained to fail or
to be wicked. When we have been weighed and found wanting, let us
remember that we were measured before and we were found equal to our
tasks..." -- Neal A Maxwell [source]
I shared this devotional on Facebook few days ago, but I was listening to it again tonight, and this part really hit me. Sometimes I get really down on myself, thinking about all the awful things I do, the mistakes I've made, and the many things "everyone" does better than me. Some days all I can see are the negatives in myself, and I wonder why my husband still loves me, and why my kids can still smile when they see me, thinking that if they just saw the ugliness that I saw, they'd go running.
I post this not to garner sympathy, or to be fishing for compliments or reassurances that I'm not the awful person I sometimes see in the mirror. I post this for two reasons: first, to let others know who may be experiences similar feelings that you are not alone; and second, to remind us all that we were placed us here to succeed! Our Heavenly Father is giving us tasks, and challenges, and trials that He knows we are able to overcome. He knows our capacity; he knows our strengths, and our weaknesses, and what will help us grow. He does not give us challenges that will cripple us (spiritually speaking) -- He gives us challenges that will elevate us to great heights. And when you feel that you have been weighed and found wanting, do not be discouraged. It's not just you. You're not the only one who feels this way! You are not alone!
To borrow a few more words from another wise fellow, Jeffrey R Holland:
"The next time you are tempted to paint your self-portrait dismal gray, highlighted with lackluster beige, just remember that in like manner have this kingdom’s most splendid men and women been tempted. I say to you as Joshua said to the tribes of Israel as they faced one of their most difficult tasks, 'Sanctify yourselves: for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you' (Joshua 3:5)" [source; seriously, go read this whole speech. And then read it again. And again.]
Have faith. You are up to this. You can tackle this. You are equal to this. Put your faith in God, and watch the wonders occur around you. Don't believe me?
"If your faith is a little tested in this or any season, I invite you to lean on mine... Hope on. Journey on...
[A]ll things are possible to them that believe." [source; yeah, read this one too]
I shared this devotional on Facebook few days ago, but I was listening to it again tonight, and this part really hit me. Sometimes I get really down on myself, thinking about all the awful things I do, the mistakes I've made, and the many things "everyone" does better than me. Some days all I can see are the negatives in myself, and I wonder why my husband still loves me, and why my kids can still smile when they see me, thinking that if they just saw the ugliness that I saw, they'd go running.
I post this not to garner sympathy, or to be fishing for compliments or reassurances that I'm not the awful person I sometimes see in the mirror. I post this for two reasons: first, to let others know who may be experiences similar feelings that you are not alone; and second, to remind us all that we were placed us here to succeed! Our Heavenly Father is giving us tasks, and challenges, and trials that He knows we are able to overcome. He knows our capacity; he knows our strengths, and our weaknesses, and what will help us grow. He does not give us challenges that will cripple us (spiritually speaking) -- He gives us challenges that will elevate us to great heights. And when you feel that you have been weighed and found wanting, do not be discouraged. It's not just you. You're not the only one who feels this way! You are not alone!
To borrow a few more words from another wise fellow, Jeffrey R Holland:
"The next time you are tempted to paint your self-portrait dismal gray, highlighted with lackluster beige, just remember that in like manner have this kingdom’s most splendid men and women been tempted. I say to you as Joshua said to the tribes of Israel as they faced one of their most difficult tasks, 'Sanctify yourselves: for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you' (Joshua 3:5)" [source; seriously, go read this whole speech. And then read it again. And again.]
Have faith. You are up to this. You can tackle this. You are equal to this. Put your faith in God, and watch the wonders occur around you. Don't believe me?
"If your faith is a little tested in this or any season, I invite you to lean on mine... Hope on. Journey on...
[A]ll things are possible to them that believe." [source; yeah, read this one too]
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
That awkward moment
You know that awkward moment, when you're trying to be an awesome
person by taking fresh, homemade cookies to your next door neighbor,
only to have your daughter spit up, projectile-style, all over you and
the neighbor's doormat and porch just as they open the door to receive
said cookies? You know that moment?
No?
Well, I do.
It was awesome. If, by awesome, I mean totally not awesome.
By the way, I have the best neighbors who can kindly laugh when their neighbor barfs all over their doorstep, and then clean it up because my hose won't reach that far.
I think I'm going to go bury my head in the sand for a while.
No?
Well, I do.
It was awesome. If, by awesome, I mean totally not awesome.
By the way, I have the best neighbors who can kindly laugh when their neighbor barfs all over their doorstep, and then clean it up because my hose won't reach that far.
I think I'm going to go bury my head in the sand for a while.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Funny conversations
B2 was holding E while I worked in the kitchen, and she made a pooping noise.
B2: "E tooted!"
D: "Does that mean you're warm?"
Ew...
B2: "E tooted!"
D: "Does that mean you're warm?"
Ew...
Spring break!
Last week was spring break for the boys, and B1 was able to take the week off work as well. So, we loaded up the van, and drove to California! At least once a week, at least one boy will ask to go to California. I'm not sure if it's the fact that it's warm, or that they get to see Grandma and Grandpa, or that they get to swim in Grandma and Grandpa's pool, but they are always up for the trip.
We drove down Friday afternoon and got there after midnight. A had a rough last few hours--he fell asleep in his car seat, but every hour or so would wake up and cry for about 5 minutes before going back to sleep. When we arrived and unloaded him, he became completely irrational. I think he feared we were leaving him in a strange house, because he would start screaming the second we put him down until we picked him up again. He ended up sleeping with B1 and I that night--it was the only way he could be comforted enough to fall back asleep. Other than that, our trip was rather uneventful--there was very minimal fighting with the kids, and we made pretty good time (I pumped while B1 drove so that we could feed E via bottles, minimizing our stops).
Saturday and Sunday we watched General Conference (well, the adults tried to watch while the kids ran around like crazy people). I will admit that I completely slept through the afternoon session on Saturday--I was just too tired from our long drive the night before. On Saturday, B1 also helped my dad install a drip irrigation system to my dad's new garden. While it's cool that he's finally able to plant a garden, it was still sad seeing my dog's old home without him there. And somehow A knew a dog was supposed to be in the backyard, because the first thing he said when he looked out there was "Doggy?" Maybe Scooter still visits and A's innocent eyes were able to see him. Anyway, starting from Saturday morning, the boys kept begging to go swimming, even though my dad's pool was only about 65* and it was only in the high 70s outside. Much too cold for my old self to get in the pool. In fact, we didn't even pack swimsuits because I knew the pool would be too cold.
On Monday the older 2 boys went to play at Aunt K's house with their cousin O. It wasn't long before they had jumped in the pool, clothes and all. They had so much fun playing with their cousin this week, and we are all so excited that they are moving to Utah this summer!
On Tuesday, B1 woke me up around 4:00 a.m. with some bad news--E was running a fever. He had been up with her for several hours, with her fever fluctuating between low-grade and fairly high. By 4:00 a.m. though, she was also starting to breathe fairly quickly--roughly one breath every second--and very shallow. We were worried, and so we called the nurse hotline through our insurance company. The nurse recommended we take her in to the ER, so we got dressed and drove her to the ER. Her fever was 101.2*, and given her age the doctor recommended a series of tests that included several blood tests, a urine test, a flu/RSV test using a nasal swab, and a test done from her stool sample (she so kindly pooped on the bed for them). After the ER doctor consulted with our pediatrician, she also recommended a spinal tap to run cultures on her spinal fluid--these cultures would help rule out meningitis. As you all know, I don't do well with needles. The last time I saw a needle inserted in my skin (I was giving blood at the time), I nearly passed out. I turned all white and several technicians came over, worried about me. So, when the nurses were putting in IV lines and taking blood samples, I had to sit down and B1 stood next to E. Poor girl. The spinal tap got to both of us though--I couldn't watch, and I just sat and wiped tears as I worried about my poor girl and how miserable she must be feeling right now, between being sick and having everyone poking her. They also gave her some Tylenol, and shortly afterward her fever broke.
All the tests (blood, urine, flu, RSV) came back negative, but it would take 48 hours to allow the culture tests from the spinal fluid to work. The doctor wanted to admit E during this time so they could keep an eye on her, and to administer antibiotics in case it was meningitis. Unfortunately, this hospital (which was only about 10 minutes from my parents' home) didn't have a pediatric unit, so she was transferred to a hospital in Tarzana, about 35 minutes away (without traffic). My brother was amazing and came by to help B1 give E a blessing before they left. At this point, it's after 10:00 a.m. B1 went with E in the ambulance to Tarzana while I went home, took the fastest shower of my life, and loaded up the necessities: clothes for E, PJs so I could stay overnight in the hospital, toothbrush, etc. I drove down to the hospital, pull in, and see a turnstile so I can pay to park in the hospital parking lot. Yep, no free parking. I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz -- "I'm not in Utah anymore!" No only are we going to be paying a fortune to have my daughter in the hospital for the next 2+ days, but we are also going to pay to park as well.
E was held in the PICU ward, though we were told later that she was only there because the pediatric unit was full, and not because she needed PICU care. That was reassuring. We were also told that she would be held at least 48 hours--if her fever returned, or her pulse rate went abnormal, or her blood oxygen level dropped too low, or the cultures came back with negative results, she would be there longer. We all prayed (along with many others--thank you!!) that she would be fine so we could get back to our vacation. B1 and I took turns being with her--I stayed with her most of Tuesday and Tuesday night, and B1 stayed with her most of the day on Wednesday (I came back during the night). But, she did great--her fever never returned, and all her levels and tests were normal. We were thrilled when the doctor said she would be discharged Thursday morning.
When we got home from the hospital, we took the family out for lunch (Cafe Rio, yum!) and my mom showed us a park with some adorable ducks. There were even baby ducklings swimming around, and a few turtles! We ate while we watched the ducks swim and eat. One of the things I miss about working in the CP office is driving past the duck ponds every day and watching for the new little ducklings each spring. Baby ducklings are some of the cutest animals ever.
On Friday, we went to Griffith Park. B1 came with us as we went to their train museum--they had tons of old train cars that you could walk through, plus a museum and a train ride. My mom also had a celebrity spotting -- Walton Goggins. She kept trying to catch him in a photo bomb. I'm not sure if she ever got a decent picture of him to prove that she saw him. We were there for an hour and a half and didn't even see half of the train stuff, but we couldn't stay--B1 was meeting my dad at the pony rides to go golfing. While he did that, B2, D, and A rode on the ponies. B2's first time was on a bigger horse that went fast, and I think the bouncing hurt his back a little--he didn't want to ride again for a while. D had to sit out the first ride as a punishment for some bad behavior earlier that day. A went on a slow pony that walked the whole time. He loved it on the first lap, but during the second lap the pony just stopped for a while, and A got scared that he had been left. He wouldn't go on a pony again for the rest of the day. B2 went on one more ride on the medium speed ponies (smaller, and they trot a little on the first lap and walk the second lap), and D ended up doing two more rides on the medium ponies.
Our initial plan had been to come home on Saturday, but with E spending two days in the hospital, we stayed one last day to BBQ with my parents and see my brother and sister-in-law before we left. Saturday was a relaxing day at home. We then woke up Sunday morning at 2:30 a.m. CA time, loaded the kids up, and drove home. Despite some car troubles, we made it home before 4:00 p.m. Utah time. It was great waking up early like that -- the kids didn't even wake up until we were in Vegas, so it greatly minimized the number of times we were asked "Are we there yet?" and "How much longer?" We would have been home even sooner if D and B2 hadn't needed to pee every 20 minutes between Cedar City and Nephi. :)
This final picture isn't from spring break, but I had to share--I painted E's toenails for the first time after we got back. B1 had a hard time with it--he feels like it's a short jump from painted nails to make-up and then boys, and he feels like she's growing up too fast. She's only 2 months old and he's already worried about her teen years. :)
We drove down Friday afternoon and got there after midnight. A had a rough last few hours--he fell asleep in his car seat, but every hour or so would wake up and cry for about 5 minutes before going back to sleep. When we arrived and unloaded him, he became completely irrational. I think he feared we were leaving him in a strange house, because he would start screaming the second we put him down until we picked him up again. He ended up sleeping with B1 and I that night--it was the only way he could be comforted enough to fall back asleep. Other than that, our trip was rather uneventful--there was very minimal fighting with the kids, and we made pretty good time (I pumped while B1 drove so that we could feed E via bottles, minimizing our stops).
Saturday and Sunday we watched General Conference (well, the adults tried to watch while the kids ran around like crazy people). I will admit that I completely slept through the afternoon session on Saturday--I was just too tired from our long drive the night before. On Saturday, B1 also helped my dad install a drip irrigation system to my dad's new garden. While it's cool that he's finally able to plant a garden, it was still sad seeing my dog's old home without him there. And somehow A knew a dog was supposed to be in the backyard, because the first thing he said when he looked out there was "Doggy?" Maybe Scooter still visits and A's innocent eyes were able to see him. Anyway, starting from Saturday morning, the boys kept begging to go swimming, even though my dad's pool was only about 65* and it was only in the high 70s outside. Much too cold for my old self to get in the pool. In fact, we didn't even pack swimsuits because I knew the pool would be too cold.
On Monday the older 2 boys went to play at Aunt K's house with their cousin O. It wasn't long before they had jumped in the pool, clothes and all. They had so much fun playing with their cousin this week, and we are all so excited that they are moving to Utah this summer!
 |
| Battle wound from the spinal tap |
All the tests (blood, urine, flu, RSV) came back negative, but it would take 48 hours to allow the culture tests from the spinal fluid to work. The doctor wanted to admit E during this time so they could keep an eye on her, and to administer antibiotics in case it was meningitis. Unfortunately, this hospital (which was only about 10 minutes from my parents' home) didn't have a pediatric unit, so she was transferred to a hospital in Tarzana, about 35 minutes away (without traffic). My brother was amazing and came by to help B1 give E a blessing before they left. At this point, it's after 10:00 a.m. B1 went with E in the ambulance to Tarzana while I went home, took the fastest shower of my life, and loaded up the necessities: clothes for E, PJs so I could stay overnight in the hospital, toothbrush, etc. I drove down to the hospital, pull in, and see a turnstile so I can pay to park in the hospital parking lot. Yep, no free parking. I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz -- "I'm not in Utah anymore!" No only are we going to be paying a fortune to have my daughter in the hospital for the next 2+ days, but we are also going to pay to park as well.
E was held in the PICU ward, though we were told later that she was only there because the pediatric unit was full, and not because she needed PICU care. That was reassuring. We were also told that she would be held at least 48 hours--if her fever returned, or her pulse rate went abnormal, or her blood oxygen level dropped too low, or the cultures came back with negative results, she would be there longer. We all prayed (along with many others--thank you!!) that she would be fine so we could get back to our vacation. B1 and I took turns being with her--I stayed with her most of Tuesday and Tuesday night, and B1 stayed with her most of the day on Wednesday (I came back during the night). But, she did great--her fever never returned, and all her levels and tests were normal. We were thrilled when the doctor said she would be discharged Thursday morning.
On Friday, we went to Griffith Park. B1 came with us as we went to their train museum--they had tons of old train cars that you could walk through, plus a museum and a train ride. My mom also had a celebrity spotting -- Walton Goggins. She kept trying to catch him in a photo bomb. I'm not sure if she ever got a decent picture of him to prove that she saw him. We were there for an hour and a half and didn't even see half of the train stuff, but we couldn't stay--B1 was meeting my dad at the pony rides to go golfing. While he did that, B2, D, and A rode on the ponies. B2's first time was on a bigger horse that went fast, and I think the bouncing hurt his back a little--he didn't want to ride again for a while. D had to sit out the first ride as a punishment for some bad behavior earlier that day. A went on a slow pony that walked the whole time. He loved it on the first lap, but during the second lap the pony just stopped for a while, and A got scared that he had been left. He wouldn't go on a pony again for the rest of the day. B2 went on one more ride on the medium speed ponies (smaller, and they trot a little on the first lap and walk the second lap), and D ended up doing two more rides on the medium ponies.
Our initial plan had been to come home on Saturday, but with E spending two days in the hospital, we stayed one last day to BBQ with my parents and see my brother and sister-in-law before we left. Saturday was a relaxing day at home. We then woke up Sunday morning at 2:30 a.m. CA time, loaded the kids up, and drove home. Despite some car troubles, we made it home before 4:00 p.m. Utah time. It was great waking up early like that -- the kids didn't even wake up until we were in Vegas, so it greatly minimized the number of times we were asked "Are we there yet?" and "How much longer?" We would have been home even sooner if D and B2 hadn't needed to pee every 20 minutes between Cedar City and Nephi. :)
This final picture isn't from spring break, but I had to share--I painted E's toenails for the first time after we got back. B1 had a hard time with it--he feels like it's a short jump from painted nails to make-up and then boys, and he feels like she's growing up too fast. She's only 2 months old and he's already worried about her teen years. :)
Monday, March 17, 2014
Interesting conversation
D was playing Donkey Kong on the Wii. There's a tool where you can select to have the level beat for you by the computer. You become a gray Donkey Kong, and he passes all the obstacles. This is quite appealing to D, as much of this game is still beyond his playing abilities. D has named this gray Donkey Kong "Super Guy." D and B2 had the following conversation today about Super Guy:
D: "I love him."
B2: "Do you want to marry him?"
D: "No."
B2: "Then why do you love him?"
D: "Because he does everything for me."
I sure hope D gets a more mature view of love eventually, or his future wife is in trouble. :)
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Welcome E!
I never
thought I'd say this, but SHE'S here! Our fourth baby was born on
Sunday, and surprised us all when we discovered it was a girl!
Over
the last few weeks, I've had several false alarms that I might be going
into labor. I'd get fairly intense contractions (enough to capture my
attention) about every 5 minutes, but they'd only last 30-45 minutes and
then they'd stop. At my doctor appointments each week, my body was
progressing as is normal for me -- 2 cm dilated at 36 weeks, 2.5 cm at
37 week, 3 cm at 38 and 39 weeks--but the contractions weren't lasting
long enough for me to go to the hospital. After my labor with A, where
my contractions were less intense but my labor lasting longer in the
hospital, I decided this time I wanted to wait until the contractions
became more painful (indicative of being further along in the labor
process) before going in. I wanted as short a stay in the hospital
(particularly the delivery room) as possible.
So,
along comes Saturday, February 15th--the day before my due date. B1
and I actually went out to dinner the night before for Valentine's Day
(we have never been out on Valentine's Day before--early in our
dating/marriage relationship, I was working at Black Angus so I always
worked Valentine's evening, and after that job was over it was still too
stressful for me to eat out on Valentine's Day because I knew the
servers were hoping to flip tables quickly, so we always celebrated
Valentine's at home). We went to Buffalo Bills and had a wonderful time.
We ordered some of our wings rather spicy, and I joked that maybe the
spicy food would throw me into labor. Sure enough, Saturday morning
came, and with it regular contractions--however, these still weren't
very intense, and would come every 5-10 minutes, so not quite as close
together as they needed to be. I spent nearly all day just
uncomfortable, between the contractions and the even more frequent trips
to the bathroom. I didn't have much of a desire to eat, which I would
later regret, so my diet from that morning until 5:00 p.m. consisted of
some donuts for breakfast and Ritz crackers for lunch. By the time 4:00
p.m. rolled around, the contractions were coming more frequently and
were more intense, requiring me to stop what I was doing or saying to
breathe through them. I finally admitted that this must be it--our baby
was finally coming.
B1
went into nervous father-to-be mode, and started packing his overnight
bag and loading up the car. Meanwhile, I tried to convince him that I
didn't want to leave just yet, as I was sure I still had several hours
before the baby would come and would rather be comfortable at home than
in the hospital. So, we made dinner for the kids so my mom wouldn't have
to, and I forced him to eat as well. We ended up leaving for the
hospital around 6:00 p.m. I made him stop by Walmart on our way to the
hospital so I could pick up some lanolin, and he gave me the hardest
time. He only ended up stopping because I explained what a necessity
that was for nursing, and again convinced him that this baby was not
coming for at least an hour--plenty of time to reach the hospital so we
wouldn't be having a baby on the side of the road. I even went into
Walmart with him, despite his protests. After the shortest Walmart trip
ever, we were back in the car and heading to the hospital. With how long
my contractions had been regular, and the fact that I was at 3 cm the
previous Monday, and the intensity of the contractions, I had hoped to
be around 6-7 cm dilated when we went in. We arrived at the hospital and
put in the triage room for monitoring. The nurse checked me, and
declared...I was at 4.5 cm. I couldn't believe it. After all my best
efforts to minimize my hospital time, and this was the LEAST dilated I
had been among all my children. To add to my horror, the nurse even said
they might consider sending me back home! Oh, the shame! :) They said
they'd monitor me for an hour, check me again, and then the doctor would
decide.
After
an hour, the nurse came back, and thankfully I was just over 5 cm
dilated, so I was admitted. I was hooked up to the IV (unfortunately, I
was GBS positive with this pregnancy, so antibiotics needed to be
administered, which means I needed an IV; I hate needles), and settled
in for my depressingly-long wait in the hospital. At this point, it's
nearing 8:00 p.m., and the nurse explains that if this baby doesn't come
in the next four hours, I'll need another dose of antibiotics to make
sure the GBS doesn't affect our baby. B1 and I look at each other,
and realize that four more hours puts our baby as being born on the due
date. I really don't want to be in labor that long, and we joke that
maybe this baby is copying B2 and will wait until the due date before
making the grand appearance. Ha ha, right?
Another
hour passes, and the contractions seem to be getting less intense. I'm
worried that my labor will stall, and I'll either be given the options
of breaking my water (nope, don't want to do this) or take pitocin
(really don't want to do this). I wanted a labor with as little medical
intervention as was necessary, and I feared it was all spiraling out of
my control. I already had the IV I didn't want, and now this. The nurse
checks me, and I'm only about 5.5 cm dilated. This pattern continues for
the next few hours--I only progress at the rate of about 0.5 cm
dilation per hour, which is really slow for me. B1 and I passed the
time by watching the Olympics (we don't have TV, so the little we've
seen of this year's Olympics has been at my in-law's house or when we
were at Buffalo Bills the night before), and I spent some time in the
jetted tub trying to reduce the pain in my back during the contractions.
Around 11:45, they check me again, and I'm still only around 7 cm
dilated, but the contractions are getting very intense and I'm having a
hard time focusing on my breathing. In fact, I don't do such a great job
of breathing, and start feeling buzzing in my face and hands. At one
point, my hands actually went completely numb, and the nurses had to
work with me to get my breathing back in line so I didn't
hyperventilate.
At
this point, I turn onto my side (I've found this to be the most
tolerable position for me for the later stages of delivery) and spend
most of the remaining labor with my eyes closed, focusing just on
getting through each contraction. As such, I don't know how long each of
the next phases takes to pass. But, needless to say, the labor kicks
into high gear. I start wondering why I was so anxious to have this
baby, and asking myself again why I decided to do this un-medicated.
But, I remember from my previous deliveries that this means I'm close to
the end, so I don't bother asking for drugs I know they'll refuse to
give and instead look forward to those contractions when my body will
start pushing and the end will be here. I'm guessing somewhere around
12:15 a.m., my body starts pushing the baby out. I don't say anything
just yet though to B1 or the nurses, because I want to be in control
here of my body position and pace. After several contractions, though, I
realize this baby is moving more quickly than in the past, and I tell
the nurses that they need to get the doctor. When he comes in, he says
he wants to check me again to see if I'm at 10 cm dilation yet, despite
the fact that we told him my body was already pushing out the baby. At
this point, my contractions are slow close and so intense that the last
thing I want during my brief resting periods is to be checked when I
know I'm fully dilated. So, the doctor stands there waiting, and my
water broke. I think he finally believed me at that point, and the
nurses quickly get the bed ready. At the next contraction, I feel the
baby's head crowning, and with the second contraction after my water
breaks our baby is born. Yep, that's right--she was completely born in
one push. While it was nice not feeling like a head was stuck and much
too big to fit, it was also very intense having the baby born in one
push.
When
my water had broken, there was meconium, so there were some respiratory
specialists in the delivery room when our baby was born. Right after
her head came out, I felt like my heart stopped beating while I waited
to hear her first cry; once that came, I immediately wanted to know if
our baby was a boy or girl. I was shocked when B1 announced that we
had a girl. We had both convinced ourselves that we were having another
boy, but I don't think either of us had given up hope that maybe we
would get one girl after all. So, we were just thrilled.
It
took a few minutes before I could hold our baby, while the respiratory
specialists made sure that everything was okay. When they passed her to
me, it was like all was right with the world. All the fears I had had
during my pregnancy were gone, and I was just in awe of this tiny,
beautiful miracle.
Sunday night her brothers came to visit. B2 was so excited when Grandma S told him that our new baby was girl--he had been wanting a sister since I was pregnant with A. D, however, was not happy. He told Grandma that he didn't want a sister; he wanted another "brudder." So, when they arrived at the hospital, B2 was so excited to see his baby sister, and D was at best mildly curious. He did ask to hold her though. I asked if he thought we should keep her, and he said yes, but, "Can you put another baby in your tummy?" I laughed and told him no, at least not for a while. He seemed a little sad. Before the kids went back home, I talked to D again and asked what he thought of his new sister:
D: "Are we going to keep her?"
Me: "Yes."
D: "And A too?"
Me: "Yes."
D: (incredulously) "Both of them at the same time?"
At this point I couldn't keep from my laughing, and I tried to explain that we didn't have E to replace anyone--we are keeping all four of our kids.
Despite D's initial hesitancy, he has really warmed up to E. He asks to hold her at least once a day, and is often concerned if her sock or mitten has fallen off or if she cries. B2 also loves holding her, and brags to anyone who will listen about his new little sister. Heaven help whoever tries to mess with our baby girl, with D and B2 on the watch!
Friday, January 24, 2014
Funny Things D Says
While getting ready for nightly prayers, D was getting a little
crazy and we were trying to get him to calm down before he said prayers.
B1: "Who do we think of during prayers?"
D: "Heavenly Father and Jesus. They created the earth."
B1: "That's right."
D: "How?"
B1: "Through the priesthood."
D: "Oh." [Whispering conspiratorially] "Don't tell anyone!"
B1: "Who do we think of during prayers?"
D: "Heavenly Father and Jesus. They created the earth."
B1: "That's right."
D: "How?"
B1: "Through the priesthood."
D: "Oh." [Whispering conspiratorially] "Don't tell anyone!"
Saturday, January 11, 2014
I need to be better
I need to be better about blogging. Since I'm not really keeping much
of a journal, this blog has been a good way for me to remember the fun
things my kids say and their odd stages. I had already forgotten about
A applauding my cooking until I read my blog post about it. But, I
guess that's to be expected, since I've also forgotten my boys' names,
what day it is, and what I did yesterday. Pregnancy brain has fully
settled in, and I find myself incapable of locating keys or remembering
conversations.
Since I didn't write a Christmas summary letter this year, I might as well take this time to do an update on our family.
B -- B1 has been super busy finishing our basement. What started as an attempt to finish one bedroom so we would have room for this new baby has lead to framing the entire basement, finishing the bedroom, and completing a bathroom. While we are still a long way from being done, B1 has made some amazing progress, and done all of it (so far) without contracting it out. We have had some wonderful help from one of his coworkers, his dad, and a few neighbors. We've chalked up his urgency to do this to his "nesting" stage. He's always nested worse than I do when the pregnancy draws to a close. Last year the nesting instinct was satisfied by all the work we had to do on our new house; with D, B1 painted our condo; with B2, he unpacked boxes that had sat for a year and set up the nursery.
B2 -- B2 started basketball this week through the city program. He is very excited. He spent most of last summer/fall playing basketball, so he's really excited to be on this team. As an added bonus, a friend of his from 1st grade is on his team, and he was just super thrilled about this. We're still not sure if transferring him to the charter school was a good idea. Academically, I believe it was--he has done much better in class, and the communication from his teacher is well above what we've had from the traditional schools. But, we really worry about B2 making friends. We are now halfway through the year, and I still don't think he has really made a friend. When he has free time and wants to invite someone to play, it's always the neighbor kids or friends from past wards/schools. When we ask about his friends at school, he mainly refers to this one boy that (frankly) I don't think treats him very well, but B2 insists on continuing to try. I hate to transfer him back, particularly because I know one of the 4th grade teachers at the charter school and REALLY REALLY want B2 in her class; if we leave next year, it will be a small chance that he will get back in. We're just going to have to keep watching him closely and this summer reconsider whether this school is the best option for him.
D -- We are realizing more and more that there must be a pre-Earth life, because D has a personality so incredibly different from his brothers. We have really struggled over the last few months trying to understand how to be the sort of parents that D needs. He is a wonderful, sweet boy that needs lots of attention and lots of choices. I'm still learning how to give him options that I can live with. For example, I have places that I need to be (doctor appointments, church, etc.), and I have places I want to go (shopping, play dates, and so on), both of which require certain behaviors from Dallas (such as getting dressed and putting on shoes). Sometimes, he has no problem doing what I ask, but more often it seems that the more urgent my errand, the more stubborn he becomes. I quickly run out of options--I can't leave him home alone, I can't take him shopping in just his underwear, or shorts and a shirt without shoes when it's 5 degrees outside, and staying home and missing my appointment only hurts me and doesn't teach him anything. So, we've been doing a lot of experimenting with different rewards, punishments, and language to see what works. Of course, the same thing doesn't work every day, but generally I think we are making progress. I'm trying to appreciate his stubborn personality and likewise release some of my own preconceived notions of parenthood. But, the last few months have taught me a lot about the importance of agency, and how our Heavenly Father must feel when we use our agency for good. I am so pleased when D happily says, "Yes Mommy" when I ask him to do something, or when he comes and tells me that he made a paper airplane just for me. Now, if I only I could make him love to get dressed and run errands with me (or go to preschool and church happily), we'd have it made. :)
A -- A is officially into EVERYTHING now. He can finally climb onto our couches and kitchen chairs (they are slightly taller than I think is average, so we got a few extra months where he would try but just could pull himself up onto these furniture pieces). He has also discovered that he can push our kitchen chairs over to the counters so he can climb up and reach what is on the counters. He can also bypass the baby locks on the cabinets (most worrisome is the one that locks up all our cleaning products; thankfully, right now he mainly likes to pull everything out but doesn't try to eat any of the poisons) and climb up and down stairs. He can't open doors yet or climb out of his crib, so we do still have some control over where he can go in the house, but I'm sure that won't be long. We stored his high chair this past week or so, and he now sits at the table in a booster seat. He loves being with the family and loves to feed himself, but he also loves to throw everything--food, toys, books, sippy cups, and so on. Sometimes I wonder if he's going to stop growing because I'm convinced all of his food winds up on the floor. But, regardless of the mischief, he does everything with a smile. Well--except going to nursery. He cries about that. But he's very happy otherwise. He still claps a lot, and is getting better about saying Thank You. He's even starting to form sentences. The other day at dinner, A randomly pointed at Dad and said, "That's Dadda; that's Mama [pointing at me]." Brian and I looked at each other to confirm that we heard what we thought we heard. A has a rather extensive vocabulary, though I still think it's only our family that can understand most of his words. He likes to say "Bye!" to everyone that leaves--the cashier at the grocery store, his teachers in nursery, the neighbors who knock on the door. He may not be so willing to say hi, but he'll happily bid them farewell. But, probably my favorite part of the day is when Dad comes home, and A happily cries, "Hi Dadda!" and runs to him to give him a hug. It reminds me of when I was a kid, and how we'd all cheer when my dad came home from work and run to say hi.
And, then there's me. I finished working at CP at the end of December. I'd been there in one capacity or another for the past 8.5 years, so it was very surreal to be attending my final Christmas party and to be processing my final payroll. I still wake up each morning and think that I need to check my email, and I wonder each day what's happening in the office and thinking about what I need to do for the upcoming payroll and which new employees need insurance paperwork.
My pregnancy has been going well. The baby moves consistently and measures on schedule. I'm just shy of 35 weeks along right now, and it's weird to think we'll have another baby in just over a month's time. We still don't have a name picked out for either sex. B1 has been so focused on work, finishing the basement, and his upcoming check ride to really give baby names much of a thought, and I've been so bogged down the last few weeks with a cold that alternates between wiping me out, giving me migraines, and keeping me from being able to breathe that most days I just try to survive to bedtime. So, I haven't really given names much of a thought either. This whole pregnancy has been different than my other three--at first, I feared there was something wrong with me or the baby because I didn't have the same immediate attachment that I had with my other three boys. After our ultrasound, and some talks with my OB, I've realized that this is common behavior and not necessarily indicative of a problem. Now, being this close to the end and still not knowing if we're having a boy or girl has been both fun and frustrating. I've wanted to buy little girl clothes that I see on sale, but don't want to if we end up having another boy (and, I've also seen some really cute little boy clothes that I've considering buying, but would already be too small for A and silly to purchase if this baby is a girl). But, I'm also really looking forward to finding out when the baby is born whether it's a boy or girl--it's like I get Christmas all over again in February. :) We get a lot of people asking if we are hoping this baby is either a boy or a girl, and I think frankly we don't care. We are just happy to have another baby blessing our family. And, I'm happy that this is the last time I will be pregnant (knock on wood).
So, that's our family news. I know, nothing super exciting, but at least I have some things written down for when I forget them tomorrow. :)
Since I didn't write a Christmas summary letter this year, I might as well take this time to do an update on our family.
B -- B1 has been super busy finishing our basement. What started as an attempt to finish one bedroom so we would have room for this new baby has lead to framing the entire basement, finishing the bedroom, and completing a bathroom. While we are still a long way from being done, B1 has made some amazing progress, and done all of it (so far) without contracting it out. We have had some wonderful help from one of his coworkers, his dad, and a few neighbors. We've chalked up his urgency to do this to his "nesting" stage. He's always nested worse than I do when the pregnancy draws to a close. Last year the nesting instinct was satisfied by all the work we had to do on our new house; with D, B1 painted our condo; with B2, he unpacked boxes that had sat for a year and set up the nursery.
B2 -- B2 started basketball this week through the city program. He is very excited. He spent most of last summer/fall playing basketball, so he's really excited to be on this team. As an added bonus, a friend of his from 1st grade is on his team, and he was just super thrilled about this. We're still not sure if transferring him to the charter school was a good idea. Academically, I believe it was--he has done much better in class, and the communication from his teacher is well above what we've had from the traditional schools. But, we really worry about B2 making friends. We are now halfway through the year, and I still don't think he has really made a friend. When he has free time and wants to invite someone to play, it's always the neighbor kids or friends from past wards/schools. When we ask about his friends at school, he mainly refers to this one boy that (frankly) I don't think treats him very well, but B2 insists on continuing to try. I hate to transfer him back, particularly because I know one of the 4th grade teachers at the charter school and REALLY REALLY want B2 in her class; if we leave next year, it will be a small chance that he will get back in. We're just going to have to keep watching him closely and this summer reconsider whether this school is the best option for him.
D -- We are realizing more and more that there must be a pre-Earth life, because D has a personality so incredibly different from his brothers. We have really struggled over the last few months trying to understand how to be the sort of parents that D needs. He is a wonderful, sweet boy that needs lots of attention and lots of choices. I'm still learning how to give him options that I can live with. For example, I have places that I need to be (doctor appointments, church, etc.), and I have places I want to go (shopping, play dates, and so on), both of which require certain behaviors from Dallas (such as getting dressed and putting on shoes). Sometimes, he has no problem doing what I ask, but more often it seems that the more urgent my errand, the more stubborn he becomes. I quickly run out of options--I can't leave him home alone, I can't take him shopping in just his underwear, or shorts and a shirt without shoes when it's 5 degrees outside, and staying home and missing my appointment only hurts me and doesn't teach him anything. So, we've been doing a lot of experimenting with different rewards, punishments, and language to see what works. Of course, the same thing doesn't work every day, but generally I think we are making progress. I'm trying to appreciate his stubborn personality and likewise release some of my own preconceived notions of parenthood. But, the last few months have taught me a lot about the importance of agency, and how our Heavenly Father must feel when we use our agency for good. I am so pleased when D happily says, "Yes Mommy" when I ask him to do something, or when he comes and tells me that he made a paper airplane just for me. Now, if I only I could make him love to get dressed and run errands with me (or go to preschool and church happily), we'd have it made. :)
A -- A is officially into EVERYTHING now. He can finally climb onto our couches and kitchen chairs (they are slightly taller than I think is average, so we got a few extra months where he would try but just could pull himself up onto these furniture pieces). He has also discovered that he can push our kitchen chairs over to the counters so he can climb up and reach what is on the counters. He can also bypass the baby locks on the cabinets (most worrisome is the one that locks up all our cleaning products; thankfully, right now he mainly likes to pull everything out but doesn't try to eat any of the poisons) and climb up and down stairs. He can't open doors yet or climb out of his crib, so we do still have some control over where he can go in the house, but I'm sure that won't be long. We stored his high chair this past week or so, and he now sits at the table in a booster seat. He loves being with the family and loves to feed himself, but he also loves to throw everything--food, toys, books, sippy cups, and so on. Sometimes I wonder if he's going to stop growing because I'm convinced all of his food winds up on the floor. But, regardless of the mischief, he does everything with a smile. Well--except going to nursery. He cries about that. But he's very happy otherwise. He still claps a lot, and is getting better about saying Thank You. He's even starting to form sentences. The other day at dinner, A randomly pointed at Dad and said, "That's Dadda; that's Mama [pointing at me]." Brian and I looked at each other to confirm that we heard what we thought we heard. A has a rather extensive vocabulary, though I still think it's only our family that can understand most of his words. He likes to say "Bye!" to everyone that leaves--the cashier at the grocery store, his teachers in nursery, the neighbors who knock on the door. He may not be so willing to say hi, but he'll happily bid them farewell. But, probably my favorite part of the day is when Dad comes home, and A happily cries, "Hi Dadda!" and runs to him to give him a hug. It reminds me of when I was a kid, and how we'd all cheer when my dad came home from work and run to say hi.
And, then there's me. I finished working at CP at the end of December. I'd been there in one capacity or another for the past 8.5 years, so it was very surreal to be attending my final Christmas party and to be processing my final payroll. I still wake up each morning and think that I need to check my email, and I wonder each day what's happening in the office and thinking about what I need to do for the upcoming payroll and which new employees need insurance paperwork.
My pregnancy has been going well. The baby moves consistently and measures on schedule. I'm just shy of 35 weeks along right now, and it's weird to think we'll have another baby in just over a month's time. We still don't have a name picked out for either sex. B1 has been so focused on work, finishing the basement, and his upcoming check ride to really give baby names much of a thought, and I've been so bogged down the last few weeks with a cold that alternates between wiping me out, giving me migraines, and keeping me from being able to breathe that most days I just try to survive to bedtime. So, I haven't really given names much of a thought either. This whole pregnancy has been different than my other three--at first, I feared there was something wrong with me or the baby because I didn't have the same immediate attachment that I had with my other three boys. After our ultrasound, and some talks with my OB, I've realized that this is common behavior and not necessarily indicative of a problem. Now, being this close to the end and still not knowing if we're having a boy or girl has been both fun and frustrating. I've wanted to buy little girl clothes that I see on sale, but don't want to if we end up having another boy (and, I've also seen some really cute little boy clothes that I've considering buying, but would already be too small for A and silly to purchase if this baby is a girl). But, I'm also really looking forward to finding out when the baby is born whether it's a boy or girl--it's like I get Christmas all over again in February. :) We get a lot of people asking if we are hoping this baby is either a boy or a girl, and I think frankly we don't care. We are just happy to have another baby blessing our family. And, I'm happy that this is the last time I will be pregnant (knock on wood).
So, that's our family news. I know, nothing super exciting, but at least I have some things written down for when I forget them tomorrow. :)
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