And just like that you are SIX weeks old, but first, Your Birth Story

It was a Saturday.  It started out the strangest day—at least as far as the weather was concerned.  The northwest had had a particularly dry and hot summer and by late August, the wildfires were already in full force.  They had actually been that way for several weeks.  The winds had shifted and by late Saturday morning, there was a thick layer of smoke all around our neighborhood.  I thought there was just a local fire somewhere that had generated all the smoke we were seeing and smelling, but that wasn’t the case.  The whole metropolitan area had a layer of smoke in the lower atmosphere.  Your daddy had texted when he had gotten to work and asked if there was a large fire somewhere in town……nope, that wasn’t the case.  All the smoke was from all the wildfires across the state and with the winds shifting and the air movement now nearly stagnant, the smoke wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  Plus, it was warm that day—about 86 degrees.  It was all just kinda’ weird!

Much like we had done on nearly every other warm day over the summer, we headed over to your Grandma and Grandpa’s house after lunch.  (I am sure that will be one of your earliest memories—spending LOTS of time at their house each and every summer.  Your older sister and brother had a lot of energy to burn off that day (which was like every other, really) and it allowed your mommy to put her swollen feet up while they played—both in and out of the pool. 

It was about 1:45 that afternoon when I felt the first contraction.  I made note of the time in my head, but didn’t think terribly much of it.  I had been having contractions on and off for the last several weeks and it hadn’t amounted to your arrival—so I wasn’t overly concerned.  

About an hour and half later, the contractions were still happening and were about 10-12 minutes apart.  Your Grandma had been in the kitchen preparing dinner (pulled pork sandwiches with fresh coleslaw) and she asked if it was okay to run to the store.  I felt like things weren’t moving terribly fast, so I gave the go ahead. So she went to the store (with your sister and brother in tow) to get the needed items to finish making the garden fresh salsa.  

Your Grandpa had been outside working on re-siding their greenhouse, but when Grandma told him they were heading to the store and that I might possibly be in the early stages of labor, he took the opportunity to come inside and check on me.  He told me he was going to call it a day (as far as the greenhouse was concerned) and headed upstairs to shower and get cleaned up.  I told him to please not do that on the account of me—but he insisted, saying that your aunt and uncle were also coming to dinner, so he had to get cleaned up either way.  He had been upstairs all of ten minutes, when I heard him heading back down, all showered and cleaned up.  My dear son, Grandpa is notorious for long showers. Even though the words had not been spoken, he was concerned for me and you, his new grandson, and he was doing his best to keep an eye on us!  

A little while later your daddy had texted me to see how I was feeling.  He had been checking in with me during his workday for several weeks…..as if I wouldn’t have let him know the time had come for your arrival!  I told him about the contractions and he let his boss know that he might need to leave.  A few contractions after that and your daddy was headed home (well, to G&G’s because that’s where we were all at).  Like Grandpa, your daddy made it from his restaurant (half way across the county) to G&G’s in record time.  Like nearly illegal record time, as it didn’t take him nearly as long as it should have to get there!

By the time your daddy had arrived, the contractions had started to intensify, BUT they were becoming very irregular.  Some were five minutes apart, but most were anywhere from 10-20 minutes apart.  We just weren’t sure what to think!  Either way, we wanted to be prepared—so we felt it was a good idea to go pack up.  Your daddy and I headed back to our house to get our bags for the hospital and to also pack bags for your sister and brother. It had already been decided they would spend the night at grandma and grandpa’s.  We took our time (sort of, but not really!) gathering our things and soon we were headed back.  

I was afraid to eat dinner, not wanted to get nauseous if this was the real deal, so I had a small snack while everyone else enjoyed the yummy meal Grandma had prepared.  The state of the contractions stayed pretty much the same through dinner.  Intense enough to concentrate on the first level of breathing, but not regular in minutes apart.  

So your daddy and I decided to take a walk down G&G’s street. That seemed to move things in the right direction, because at several points during the fairly short walk, we had to stop walking so I could concentrate on my breathing.  When we got back to G&G’s, we sat down in the outside “living room” and the contractions all but stopped.  

We decided to head home for the night.  We said our good byes to your sweet sister and brother, and during the short drive home, the contractions started to return with a little more consistency.  After being home for about an hour—I told your daddy I was going to touch up my make-up and fix my hair—as silly as it sounds, I wanted to look as nice as I could to meet my new son!  I paged my midwife, Donna, and we chatted for a few minutes.  She didn’t feel it was quite time to head to the hospital, but told us that if things changed, to just give her a page and we should head on out.  

I labored for about another hour and a half and it was about 10 pm when your daddy decided that it was time to head to the hospital.  Although the contractions were still about 8 minutes apart, they were getting closer together with each contraction and with this being our third blessing, we didn’t want to mess around! Daddy paged Donna on the way to the hospital and she agreed it was time and told us she would call the hospital and meet us there shortly.  

During my prenatal appointments, they had told us that we could go through the emergency room at the hospital to get to Labor and Delivery if it happened to be after hours.  Of course, your mommy was stubborn and decided that we could just walk in the normal entrance to Labor and Delivery.  All while having contractions every two to three minutes.  Clearly, I was insane.  We walked across the sky bridge to the hospital entrance and (unbeknownst to us!) the doors were locked that allowed visitors into the hospital.  Lovely!  However, there did happen to be a phone that went straight to security and they opened the doors immediately.  I guess when they saw on their security cameras the pregnant mama standing there gripping the handrails of the sky bridge to let another contraction pass, they allowed us through with no questions asked.  

We walked in and got checked in at the Labor and Delivery desk.  (And can I just share that even though we had preregistered at the hospital, there seemed to be a RIDICULOUS number of papers to fill out and sign when you are having contractions every two minutes???!?!)  I was still worried that they might try and send us home (perhaps I wasn’t far enough along yet?), but your daddy knew this was the day.  We were assigned our room and I went into the bathroom to change into the gown and use the potty.  By this time, the contractions were a VERY consistent two minutes apart and were VERY much intense.  As I had told my midwife, I was doing the HEE-HEE breathing.  That’s a sure sign that baby is on his way!  

A few minutes after I got settled (!) into bed, your Grandma arrived as my second “support person.”  She had the camera and was taking a few pictures of your daddy and I, all while making sure to stay out of the way of the hospital staff.  The nurse got my IV set (for my antibiotics—I had GBS strep) and brought me the BEST ice chips EV-AAH!  During the last few weeks of pregnancy I became sort of obsessed with crunchy ice and they ice chips?  They were DELISH.

By this time, the midwife apprentice, Ashley, was also there and she was asking if I was feeling “a little pushy” and while I hadn’t really thought about it (they checked me right when we got there and I was at a six, so I wasn’t thinking that I was ready yet), I decided that heck yes, I was ready to push!  She told me that with the next contraction to go ahead and try pushing and so I did.  And with just two pushes (not the three hours of pushing with your sister or the hour and half of pushing with your brother), you had finally arrived!  And just for the record, we checked in the hospital at just after 10:30 pm and you were officially born at 11:24 pm.  I was so glad your daddy made the call to head to the hospital when he did.  Me?  I was otherwise occupied and was not really able to make that decision to the best of my abilities.

You had a head full of blondish and brownish hair.  Blond on the top of your head and dark brown hair all around the sides—so funny!  You weighed in at 8 pounds and 1 ounce and the nurse measured you at 19 inches, which we are all convinced was wrong!  We measured you at home just a few days later and you were 20.5 inches.  My milk hadn’t even come in yet and you had already grown an inch and a half? Probably not, plus, both your siblings were 21 inches, so the 20.5 inches sounds much more realistic.  Then the nurse measured you at your two week appointment at 23 inches and while you had definitely gained some weight, there was no way you had grown a total of 4 inches!

Unlike your sister and brother, you LOVED your first bath.  The only time you cried was when the nurse took you out of the water and you were exposed to the cold air.  As Daddy pointed out though, the bath is very much like the womb—warm and watery—but a lot less confined.  Funny that your siblings never felt the same way!  

You were a great nursing champ from the start.  You did have a bit of jaundice, so you did have to go under the blue lights while we were still in the hospital.  That was a bummer, but having been through it with your big brother, while still difficult, we knew it was necessary. 

Later on the following afternoon, your Grandma and Grandpa came to visit with your big sister and newly promoted big brother.  They were SO excited to meet you!  They had heard about you for nearly six months and you were finally, finally here!  This picture pretty much sums up your sister’s opinion of you: adoration.  And your brother, well, this sums it up too: very curious with a lot of adult intervention!  

We are settling into our party of five quite well.  Not to say it hasn’t been without growing pains, because there have been those for sure.  

Regardless......you, my sweet baby boy, are a blessing that I didn’t know we ever needed.  

And I am completely, most entirely IN LOVE. 

My Thoughts Are All Over the Place Right Now

I was thinking the other day about our family and our move back to Hometown. Thinking that this coming January, it will have been three years since we've moved back.  It got me thinking even further--that we have actually been back here in Hometown longer than we were ever gone.

If my calculations are correct, and let's face it, there is a good chance they aren't--math was never my best subject.  However, these are just simple calculations and I only started to struggle with math once I got into high school.  Differential equations, anyone?  Anyhow.....I digress.  As I was saying, we lived up in Smalltown exactly 827 days.  Which is 2.27 years OR for those of you who like simpler terms, 2 years and three months.

As of today, we have been back 1,003 days.  It's just shy of 2 years and 9 months, so we have actually been back here in Hometown about 6 months longer than we were ever gone.

Can I hear an amen???!?!  I just can't even believe how fast it has gone by.  Or how God has continued to provide for us.  It was quite the financial stretch for us when we moved back--and as a matter of fact, it still is.  And you know what?  He wasn't kidding about that birds in the air thing:

“For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?  And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?  Matthew 6:25-27 NASB

I think I need to do myself a favor and tattoo that on my forehead.  

In case I haven't mentioned it before, I am. a. control. freak.  I like to let myself believe that I (as in me, myself, and I) can control it all.  Yep, I know exactly how much we have deposited in our bank each month and I know where every. penny. goes.  Every penny, I tell you.  And I control that.

But you know what?  I like to think that, but I don't have control.  He does.  He provides Hub's job that pays our bills, He provides our home, and He provides our health and the health of our children. He also provides the food we eat--HE provides everything.

He is the Alpha and the Omega.

But somehow I think I have control. 

Silly me.

It's funny too, because while I like to think I have control, one of the things I always remind myself (and others!) is that He is not a God of coincidences.  (Must be my alter ego??!?)

Things just don't happen.  There was a plan with us moving away when we did.  There was a plan with us moving back when we did.

How we were EVER able to afford for me to quit my job six years ago--in His plan.  

How things with Hub's job have fallen into place--in His plan.

How well things worked out upon our return to Hometown--in His plan.  

And even now, with Peanut going to her sweet little school--in His plan--at least for now.

And let me tell you, that is a huge source of my worry these days.  As in, if I did add hours to my life because of my worry--I'd be living to a ripe, old age!!!   On the worst of my days, I think know we are kidding ourselves in thinking we can continue next year with an even higher tuition payment.

Then, on some of my best days (which are sadly not very often), I think, you know, He already has it figured out.  Whether it be private school, public school, or home school, it will be fine.  It will be just fine.  He can take care of that little girl way, way better than you.

And I have to remember cling to that.  

So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.              Matthew 6:34 NASB

 

Picking Punkins' with the Punkins'

Early this week, the pumpkins were ready to be picked in the very nice garden my dad so kindly grew for me.   He even planted the sugar pumpkin variety this year at my request, as those arguably make the best pumpkin puree.  (For the record, I make pumpkin puree every year with the pumpkins my dad grows....and with the help of my Cuisinart, I've had very successful puree with regular ol' jack-o-lantern sized pumpkins as well.  But let me tell you--this puree?  It's very good indeed.) 

At a whopping 38 pie pumpkins brought home, I am going to have plenty of puree to use to my hearts content.   Plus, plenty left for a festive harvest display outside our front door.  Yay!

We went over to my parents the other night after dinner and of course it was pouring down rain.  However blessings were upon us, and the clouds started to break up just before we made it to my parents and by the time we were picking pumpkins, it was wasn't raining at all.

While the kiddos were waiting for daddy (my parents very kindly store our outdoor furniture for us at their house and he was getting it put away) they played in the puddles left by the downpours.  How is it that small children NEVER seem to mind being cold and wet?   I was never that way--at least not that I remember.

Growing up, my mom's best friend's family had a beach house and they invited us to go clamming on more than one occasion.  My mom thought it was the greatest fun and she drug us (maybe I was the only one who had to be drug? dragged? drugged?) along.

It was cold, wet, sandy and dirty and you smelled like fish when it was all over.  One of the most miserable experiences I remember from my childhood.     And yes, Dad, I know in the grand scheme of things, life could be much worse.  But even still, clamming is SO not on my top 10 list of favorite things to do. 

But, I digress. 

The Peanut was all about picking the punkins'.  My sweet boy?  Not so much.  He was much distracted by any and all other things.  He played fetch with my parents lab, inspected my dad's grapes (or lack thereof due to some hungry birds), and even was on p*o*o*p patrol (or catrol as Peanut called it at one point not so very long ago) with my dad going around pointing out the aforementioned dog's droppings in the yard for my dad to clean up.  

That said, I still got my photo op of the family at a pumpkin patch--circa 2014.  We won't have the opportunity with Peanut's kindergarten class this year as we did with her preschool class.  Which ended up being a good thing, seeing as the little brother had no interest in it anyhow! 



 

A New Chapter

Her lunch is all packed, and her uniform is laid out for tomorrow and she is FINALLY asleep.  She usually doesn't go down at night without a fight and tonight was no exception.



The first day of school butterflies, to be sure.  But whether or not they are jitters or if it's just all around excitement, I don't quite know.  When I was her age, it was jitters all the way (even through my first days of new classes in college!), but thankfully not much seems to make this girl scared.  I certainly don't want to plant those ideas of nervousness in her head, so I don't ask if she's nervous.  I ask if she's excited, and I get all sorts of yeses combined with jumping up and down.

She starts school Friday and yesterday, we fit in a last minute trip to the coast.  We've been talking about it for awhile and the days and weeks just seemed to be getting away from us, so it hadn't happened yet.   My mom encouraged us to make it happen, so we did.  And I am so glad we did.

Because they had SO much fun.  My one regret is not packing their swimsuits.  I am sure you are thinking you went to the beach and you didn't pack swimsuits?  But hear me out.  This is the Pacific NW.  The high for the day was supposed to be 65*.  And our ocean water?  NOT warm. At all. (It hovers around the high 50's this time of year, which to me sounds absolutely miserable!)

But I forget my kids are not my kids when it comes to water activities.  They are their father's children through and through, loving any and all water related recreational activities.  Like I said, that is so not me.  My idea of good recreation is a Netflix marathon.

You think I'm kidding. 

It ended up being such a nice day and the kids were taking off their overprotective mom gear (rubber boots, socks, sweatshirts....) and rolling up their pants within minutes of getting out on the sand.

To put it simply, they played for hours.  And thankfully they have a daddy who loves it just as much as they do.

This mama was content to take pictures and try and record as many memories as possible.  In other related news, I was also the pack mule, carrying my purse (never leave it in the car anymore, not after having my car broken into and my purse stolen from said car) and their shoes and sweatshirts and camera bag.

Thankfully I had a decent excuse for not taking off my boots while on the beach.  Not really--I tripped the other day and ripped off half my big toenail.  Ouch!!! It's still very much in the early healing stages, so I was not about to get all kinds of sand in it.  So for me, the boots stayed on.

I wanted to get a fun jumping up and down picture of all of them.  They gave it their best effort to be sure, but the timing was never quite right.  However, lots of laughs were gained in the process--and that was priceless!!

It was a great bookend to our summer.

As for tomorrow, it's a new beginning......

Apple Harvest Time

I so wish I could show you all my beautifully preserved apples in the form of jarred applesauce, apple pie filling and apple butter. 

But sadly I cannot.

I simply haven't had the time.  What with the big consignment sale coming up and having some family in town this week--apple preservation simply hasn't happened.

I have made a killer apple galette though.  Yum, yum.  And my kids?  They hoot and holler and cheer when I slice them up an apple.  Every. time.

So this mama can't really complain.  Eating plain apples and apple galettes it is then. 

What is too funny and slightly scary is that Little Brother is fiercely independent like his big sister.  I gave him some bits of apple to keep him happy while I was making the aforementioned galette.  But there were tears and pouty lips and all kinds of displeased--and he was quite unhappy too.  Turns out he didn't want the bits of apple.  No, of course not.  He wanted the whole apple. 

And he was pleased as punch once he had the whole apple that he could hardly maneuver. 

Like I said, his independence at fifteen and a half months is just a bit scary. 

 

Tangled Birthday Party!

We have one more week of four and then our girl will be five.  Five.  I can't hardly believe it.  We had her party a week early this year (fantasy football draft complications--I know) and it's already over.  Now this next weekend, it will be just a quiet little gathering at home as we celebrate the day of her birth.  I can't believe we are already half way to ten.  A third of the way to fifteen, a quarter of the.....anyhow, you get the idea.  It's just amazing how time flies so fast. 

My mom took her to Disney on Ice last year and the Rapunzel braid was her choice souvenir.  Peanut was handed down the Tangled crown from her cousin, so score in both those departments. And funny enough, she didn't even wear either during the party.  Too busy having too much fun. 

I'm thinking this photo of Little Brother is gold for adolescence black mail. 

These senior picture poses......totally all on Peanut.  It's her new pose whenever the opportunity arises.  It makes me smile.

But, back to the party.  It was such fun!  I kind of totally convinced Peanut of the Tangled theme this year.  Okay, there was no arm twisting or anything illegal, but let's just say I totally talked up the fact that if we did a Tangled birthday party, we could light off sky lanterns.  And there was absolutely NO convincing needed after that.

And our girl loves Tangled.  She knows the songs by heart (except when she fills in the words with her own 'cause she can't remember) and she was deciding which boy at her party she would demand convince to play Eugene--AKA Flynn Rider--you know, so they could dance at the end.  Ahem.

That's our girl.  Because dancing =  getting married.

We did a nacho bar (complete with drippy, yummy, no real food whatsoever nacho cheese) and my wonderful mama made her always amazing fruit platter.  We had the standard cupcakes and ice cream and then because we were waiting for it to get dark for the lanterns, we also had a campfire at the end.  And no campfire is complete without s'mores.   So s'mores it was to close out the evening.

And lest you think I came up with all this stuff on my own, as I've said before, I can copy the heck off of someone elses ideas.  Thanks to Pinterest, there are no shortage of ideas.  Period.

Most of this stuff was very inexpensive thanks to the dollar store and Joanne's coupons and sales.  The cupcakes I made myself, the sign was from an old fence piece my parents had and paint I already had on hand, and the rest was just card stock, yarn, and a little creativity on the computer. 

Oh, and of course the sky lanterns.  They were a little pricey with the shipping (but quite honestly they really aren't terribly expensive in the grand scheme of things--I am just flat out cheap).  However, we do say NO a lot to our girl, just because we have such tight finances (we don't even have smart phones, people).  So when birthdays roll around, we do tend to indulge her a little.  And our Peanut is none the wiser--although she is a smart cookie and I am sure she will fully understand shortly.  But that is another post for another day. 

The sky lanterns worked just like they were supposed to.  Although we didn't let them go as they are designed to.  We tied them off with string, which the instructions say DO NOT DO.  Although we had a pretty wide open area to light them off in, my parent's neighbors have some big tall fir trees in the distance and we just felt it was way too much of a liability to let these lighted lanterns off on their own.  So that made the process a little more difficult than we anticipated and Hubs likened it to flying a flaming kite.  So that's fun.  I thanked Hubs more than once that evening for making my hair brained {Pinterest} ideas come to life.  I am always doing that.....coming up with some grand scheme and expecting my husband to figure out how to make it work.  Although my mom is the same way, so I know I come by it quite naturally.  And what's a girl with great ideas supposed to do? And we have to keep our husbands on their toes, yes? 

It was a great, fun day.  I got a little teary as we said goodbye to my mom and dad that evening.  Happy tears.....very much happy tears.   I am We are just so blessed.   We are so happy to be just minutes away from my parents and to have such a wonderful extended family and friends that are there for us.  I am so glad that Peanut and Little Brother have that, because you simply can't put a price on it.

Life is about relationships.  And you have to make the most of them. 

Next Up:  She starts her last year of preschool this Friday, where Miss Independent will become even more independent.

But I don't even know if that's possible.  



 

To Swim or To Play

My sister is currently in town for our big (little) arrival.  Another fabulous advantage of her being in town for these next several weeks is that she is going to teach our little Peanut how to swim.

Unlike moi, my sister practically has webbed feet and absolutely loves the water.

Moi?  It has to be stinking hot for me to get in a pool.  Like at least 90 degrees + hot.  And I don't get my hair wet.  Or my face wet.  And let's face it, I don't really swim.....I just get in to cool off for all of like 10 minutes (and that's being generous!) and then get back out.  That's the extent of my water amusement.  

Now my sister......when my sister was little, she got through the swimming lesson set of courses through community ed like three years ahead of schedule.  So my Mom and Dad decided to see if she was interested in being on a swim team.  That was all she needed and as they say, the rest is history.  She swam competitively starting in grade school--lasting well into high school.  When she got old enough to have a job, during the summer she was a lifeguard and she also taught swimming lessons.  Which of course, leads us to where we are today.

Teaching our little Peanut. Luckily the water gene seems to have been passed on to Peanut and she loves the water.  And she LOVES her Auntie.  So what a blessing right?  However, because it's not quite warm enough yet in our neck of the woods for my parents outdoor pool, we went to the community pool instead. 
Peanut had a grand time, but we are thinking all the "water features" in the pool are a little too distracting for our little three year old.  We are thinking of trying out another community pool on the opposite side of town (my sister's old stomping grounds!), but it may not work out due to the swim schedule there.  Either way though, I am grateful for my sister's willingness to teach her little niece. 

And I guess there is always next summer....


 

They Came and They Blessed

It all started out as an innocent little request.  My Mom is sometimes able to get off work early and I called over to my parents to see if she was home yet.  I was hoping she wasn't because I was gonna then call her cell phone and ask if she could possibly stop by the store and pick up a few things for me.  My sister answered (who is in town for our big arrival-yay!) and confirmed that yes, she was home already, but please, go ahead and make a list and we will go pick up whatever you need. 

You see, Peanut has been sick.  Last week it was the flu, this week is a pretty nasty cough along with a cold. 

Fun times.  

So with her being sick, I didn't really want to run to the store.  And let's face it--there's no "running to the store" with a preschooler or when being 38.5 weeks pregnant.  Mmmmm, nope--it's just not that easy. 

Either my sweet husband does not truly recall or he is playing the safe husband card, but he insists I was just as big when pregnant with Peanut.  The photographic evidence shows that that is truly not the case.  I am WAY bigger this time around.  Oh, and yes, I have truly lost all sense of pride and am posting a picture sans make-up. 

So they went to the store for me to pick up the items I needed so I could cook some meals for our freezer.  This way, when our little guy arrives, I'll at least be able to get dinner on the table without too much thought.   Or at least that's the plan anyway. 

Well, my dear mom and sweet sister not only brought the groceries over, but they also proceeded to cook the meals I had planned.  Then they cleaned up the kitchen spotless. 

Sigh.  
 

What would I do without my family? 

What a huge blessing they are!