Eden and Church Funnies

  Last Sunday we attended our Kilauea ward for the first time.  It seems like a wonderful ward - of course, the Honomu branch was so incredibly welcoming and reached out to each one of us that it would be hard to beat, but the Kilauea ward is very warm and inclusive as well.  We are excited to participate and serve there!  Eden and Lucy were absolute pumpkins, due to all the moving around and unpredictable scheduling, but thankfully Nate was on standby for work, so it was two on two.  During one of the talks, Eden was wriggling around to look at the family behind us.  She began to quietly sing, "Where are you, tall man? Oh, where are you?"  My eyes were on her, but I was trying to listen to the speaker, so my attention really wasn't.  Besides, she always has to fumble a little bit with her fingers before she can get one of them to stand up alone.
  Not this time!  Right on cue, she held up her hand and perfectly flipped off the family behind us!  I grabbed her hand and we all dissolved into (mostly) silent, shaking giggles.  Eden just looked at me, puzzled, innocent, and utterly hilarious.
  The week before that, when I went to pick her up from nursery, the Primary president couldn't say enough good things about her.  She was amazed at her verbal ability ("I can't believe I was standing there having a full conversation with a two year old!!") and the way she paid attention and interacted in Primary.  I almost fell over, though, when she said, "Her name is Belle, right?"  Apparently Eden does just fine introducing herself when we are not around!!
 (Actually, since we moved out here, Eden has taken to introducing herself as a character from her favorite movies or stories.  I probably mentioned it before, but it got pretty extreme during all our moving around.  She had so many new people asking her name every day that she got very good!  Its very rarely her own real name!  Although its funny, it can be a little odd/embarrassing, and I have struggled to know how to handle it.  Do I just let it go?  Correct her?  Laugh?  Pay no attention?  She's not doing it for my sake or play a trick or make a joke, she's sincerely introducing herself!  For a few days when it got really extreme, I found myself laughing and saying something like, "She wishes!" or "Now tell them your real name," but I felt bad about those responses - I don't want to be rude to my own daughter!  Its still funny, and still happens, but now I mostly just smile and only explain if necessary.)
  (Edited to add:)
  Saturday night, we packed up our dinner, and Nate took us all to a little school playground for an evening picnic.  There was a lovely little hill overlooking the play area, and as it was almost dark, only one other couple there with a little boy about Eden's size.  They were sitting on the hill, watching him play down below, when we got there, and we sat a little way off to eat our food.  As soon as Eden saw the playground, she begged to go play first, and eat later.  We let her go, and admired the confidence and agility with which she navigated the equipment.  She even climbed up that twirly ladder thing and after a few tries, successfully stepped over to the main play platform!  Her interaction with the little boy seemed minimal, but friendly.  A few minutes later, another mom and young boy, probably 5 or so, showed up.  Eden immediately wanted to make friends, and although we couldn't hear very well, we watched her join in a game of chase with great glee.  First the bigger boy, then Eden, then the little boy, went racing around the slides and stairs.  When they came around the other side, however, the order was reversed, and the little boy was running as fast as he could go!  He headed off the padded area, making a beeline for his parents, and as they got a little closer, we heard him screaming, "WAAAAA! Waaaa!  Moooommmmmyyy!!!! WAAAA!!"  and saw Eden leaping after him, roaring like a beast, with fingers hooked into claws!!!  I couldn't believe my eyes!!  We tried to reprimand a little, but we were all laughing in disbelief (the little boy's parents included.)  They sent him back down to play, and a few minutes later it happened again!  It was time for them to go, and Eden came panting up to eat some dinner.  We were talking about what had happened, and she kept asking, "But why?  Why was the little boy running away from me?"  We hadn't been close enough to hear what started it, so we could only explain so much, when suddenly she said, "Maybe because I bit him."
   "Really??!!"
  "No, not really.... We were just playing..."
  But later, as we got in the van and she mentioned it again, I asked if she really did, and she said yes.  Oh, dear.  I hope not!!!

Comedian

(This was from a month ago, when Nate had been gone for several weeks.)

Last night I was the comedian.  I totally brought the house down.  Mine was a slapstick act involving a mischievous green spiky ball and my efforts to restrain it.  The girls sat on either end of the table, Eden ensconced in her seat of choice, the Bumbo, and Lucy strapped into the booster seat with a tray.  It was basically a juggling act, but I kept dropping the ball and chasing it, or throwing it over my head, or tumbling with it on the floor, complete with silly faces and sound effects.  The girls were totally overcome with hilarity.
I never thought of myself as a funny person.  I never thought of myself as particularly outgoing, and definitely not the type to be crazy and wild.  Spontaneity and silliness were not my trademarks; dignity and reserve were much more my style. I was much more comfortable with understated than over-the-top.

Being a mom brings out every side of me - the good, the wonderful, the bad, the awful, and the downright, flat-out silly.  And I love it.  There is nothing more delightful than pure laughter rippling freely from my sweet little daughters' lips.  I don't care how silly, undignified, or crazy I have to be - its worth it. :)

Lots of Random Pictures from the last couple of months

Super-Nana!  Eden LOVED all the adventures that Nana was willing to include her in, like hauling wood, picking citrus fruit from a neighbor, visiting the chickens or the horses or the dogs, working in the garden plot, or just going for adventures.  I was so thankful!

Walking with cousin Chloe.

Lucy, not an hour old.  In my parent's kitchen, in Papa's arms.

Another snuggle time with Papa. It warms my heart to see my children as the recipients of my parents love and care.

Lucy, napping with Aunt Brynne.  Less than 2 weeks old.

I love the delight on my mom's face! A precious, though squished, moment, with four cousins and their Nana.

Lucy looks a little skeptical.

Another adventure with cousin Chloe!

Sisters!

Home in Alaska...Eden is going through cousin withdrawals and insists on including Lucy in her play.  She clearly indicated where I was to put each one of the elements of the above picture.

I just love this one!

Eden with homemade tub paints.  She loved it, and kept saying, "Rainbow! Rainbow!" as she smeared and glopped.

Out for a walk with her baby sometime in April.  She's making the baby wave "hello!"  The hat and socks were her additions to make sure baby Peter was warm enough outside. 

Babywearing - its never too early to learn!

"Yeah...my sister has a thing for hats... At least she didn't cover my eyes this time!"

Applesauce on the door sill on a lovely May day.

Where Eden gets her ideas about babywearing. :)

Eden Update

Our little girl is getting so big!

Lucy - Eden loves her little sister.  She calls her "Lu-Lu" (and is the only person allowed to do so!;) and when she's feeling super affectionate will upgrade it to "Lulu-Baba" or "Lulu-beebee," which I think is her version of "baby Lucy."  Sometimes its even just "Lu-Ba."  Eden is always excited to find Lucy lying in some accessible place - the floor, the couch, the jumper - and snuggles right up to her, laying her head on Lucy's chest much as she does with Nate and me.  Of course that pretty much squashes Lucy, but she's a good sport about it! She's also discovered that its hilarious to stick her finger as far as she can in Lucy's throat and watch/hear/feel her reaction.  I can pretty much guess exactly what she's doing when I here a certain delighted and uncontrollable giggling coming from around the corner.
Eden is very much a girl when it comes to colors, pink and purple being her definite favorites.  If there's a choice, those are the winners, whether in food, clothes, flowers, or toys.  She also knows green, blue, black and white sometimes, orange, and yellow.
Hats are required for any outfit to be complete.
Back in December, I brought home a DVD of The Nutcracker from the library.  I didn't know how she would react, but it turned out that she loved it and would watch it for as long as I would let her.  She would dance and twirl and fall down, only to get up and watch and dance again.  When we visited California, she learned a lot more about dancing from her aunts and her three year old cousin, and her passion for the Nutcracker continued.  These days she asks for the music three or four (or ten!) times a day, always with the same urgency and enthusiasm, and her dancing now includes jumping, twirls without falling down, spinning (which does result in falling down), and all sorts of creative and dramatic flourishes and kicks.  She'll dance with her dollies, with some little paper bears I cut out for her, with Mama or Daddy, or by herself.  She wishes Lucy would get up and dance with her - she'll grab her hand and pull up on it, exclaiming, "Up! Up!" - but that won't be happening for a while.
Speaking of the Nutcracker, one of the things she learned from her cousin was that the Nutcracker died at one point in the ballet.  So for nearly a month, everything "died."  Daddy, Mama, dollies, Lucy, Eden herself...she's very drawn to the dramatic and emotionally intense side of life. We tried to derail that obsession by telling her he didn't die, he just got broken.  So now everything is "broke."
Eden loves to read!  She wakes up and the first word out of her mouth is, "Eat!"  If we don't respond appropriately, she'll make sure we got the message by signing eat, first on herself, and then on us!  When we get downstairs, however, she switches from "Eat!" to "Read!"  She loves Curious George, a series of old Disney books my mom gave us, and Beatrice Potter's Jeremy Fisher, but she's pretty much an omnivore.  Last night I found her sitting on her blanket, poring over a massage manual.  It amazes me how much she comprehends of the spoken word.  She's only just beginning to be very verbal, but her understanding of conversations and oral storytelling is astounding.
We started Eden with elimination communication from the time she was about two weeks old and went through all the ups and downs of that.  By ten months she would tell us when she had to poop, and she did all her poops in the potty (except the occasional miss) and I must say, that has been SO nice.  We pretty much gave up on catching the pee though.  I thought I'd have her potty trained before Lucy, and then before we came back to Alaska, but that didn't happen.  So we got down to business a few weeks ago, and really focused.  For three days I changed many wet panties, pants, skirts, and tights, and mopped/soaked up numerous puddles.  I gave up.  I decided she must not be ready, and resigned myself to putting her back in diapers.  But that night she woke up at 4:30 am, bolted out of bed and ran to to potty and peed.  And every twenty minutes, for the rest of the night, wanted to get up and go potty.  I was so over it!  But we've progressed in our potty training journey from that day, and now she's in panties, except for naptime and bedtimes. (That's been its own struggle. She would ask to go potty at least 5 times every time we put her to sleep, and it was seriously delaying the process.  We finally came down to declaring, "If you're wearing panties, you pee in the potty.  If you're wearing a diaper, you pee in your diaper."  Maybe it will backfire when we want to get her out of diapers for good, but for now its the only way to get her to relax and go to sleep.)
Some other concepts and words she's been experimenting with  include "NO!" "Happy!" and "Cranky." When she's being cranky, we ask her if she wants to go to the cranky corner, a little alcove at the end of our entry hall. This is not framed as a punishment or a time out, just as a place to go to get yourself under control. She usually says yes, takes herself over there, stands there for a few seconds, and then comes out saying, "Happy!" It melts my heart, though, when she comes up to me, out of the blue, and tells me she's happy.  That is what I want for her!

Oh yes! She calls herself "Eenie," and she says oopsies, "eepoo!"

One more thing.  This update is about three months old! Eepoo! :) She has grown and changed so much that I need to do a whole new edition already.  I didn't want to lose this, though.

I am not so different...

I've heard about how parents are, surprisingly, not uncommonly the ones to introduce their children to smoking, drinking, and illegal drugs. 

I've wondered, "How could they do that?"

Even if you, yourself, were addicted or used those substances, isn't it obvious (not to mention extremely well publicized) that they are BAD FOR YOU!!??  What parent, in their right mind, gives their child things that are bad for them?  Knowing the love I feel for my girls and the desires I have for them, and imagining that it is nothing out of the ordinary - don't all parents feel that way toward their precious children? - I have often marveled at how this could happen.

But, you know....

I just realized, I am not so very different.  

No, my substance is in no way illegal, nor is it particularly harmful (though there are some that would say it is.:) 

No Bake Cookies.  Globs of peanut buttery, chocolately, oatey deliciousness.  Some even have tender little marshmallows hidden inside.  Oh, my.  

I'm having a very hard time resisting them.  We made a double batch to share, on Sunday, and though we did share some, there are far too many still sitting on my kitchen counter.  Maybe the oats make me feel like they are healthier than regular cookies, but I highly doubt the truth of that conclusion.  Whatever it is, I have been eating WAY too many.  A quick fix to hunger, soothing distraction to frustration, loneliness, whatever the emotion of the moment, and generally just fun to consume.

Eden came up to me as I stood there eating my fourth (shame!) and wanted some.  And though I knew she really didn't need one, wouldn't be better off for having one, I gave her some.  Because I was enjoying it.  

(Ok, I do realize there is a big difference between cookies and drugs.  And I am one of those moms who lets her kids have cookies, cake, ice cream, dessert, etc, when we have it.  I certainly don't adhere to the school of no treats or no sugar. I think its good to share good things in moderation!)  

But in that moment, I felt a sudden epiphany burst upon me.  Here I am, doing what I know I should not be, and including my daughter.  Its fun.  Its tasty.  It feels good in the moment.  

A sudden insight into a pocket of unconscious pride.  

I am not so very different.

Good inspiration to be who I should be more consistently.

my dream job + reality/a humbling day

I love being a stay-at-home mother.

No, let me say that again.

I LOVE being a stay-at-home mother.

It is my dream job.

I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing!

These were the thoughts that ran through my head last Monday night, as I looked at my precious daughters lying on either side of me in peaceful slumber.  The room was darkened to a comfortable twilight by blackout curtains, and the memory-foam of the bed was warm enough to make us a cozy snuggle, but not yet warm enough to make us a sweaty pile.  I re-played the day in my mind.

Busy, it was, but with the calm, ordered busy-ness of just enough time and tasks to fit well together.  We'd gone for a walk outside, since the weather was finally starting to warm a little. (A high of 35, but that's great compared to 18!)  We'd read stories upon stories.  We'd danced to the Nutcracker.  I made our Monday night dinner of beans and bread, warm and fresh and filling and tasty.  The laundry was not only washed, it was folded and put away!  The girls had gone down peacefully for a nap, slept well, been cheerful all afternoon, and bedtime had proceeded like clockwork.  Daddy was home from an all weekend flying job.  Yes, I loved my life. 

I thought of all the ways that my job was the best.  :)

I am my own boss.  

I don't have to think about what I'm getting paid, how many hours I lack or am overtime, or losing my job.

I get to work with my favorite people.

I get to choose when and how I do what I have to do, and even (to a certain degree) decide what, exactly, I do have to do.

I get to pour out my best, my love, my enthusiasm, my desires, without stint.

I get to confront problems and then find and implement the answer. (I love to do that kind of trouble-shooting, research, whatever you want to call it!)

If I want to change things - I can!  If I like the way I'm doing it - I don't have to change!

I nuzzled my toddler's hard little head, butted up against my cheek, and gently squeezed my baby's soft, dimpled arm, and gloried in my blessings.

And then there was Tuesday.

Smack in the face reality.

Mom-Fail.

(At least that's what it felt like.)

Everything just started off on the wrong foot! I was distracted, Eden was excitable and mischievous, and Lucy was needy.  The morning was frittered away on unimportant bits and pieces, as all my nice plans and goals dripped down the drain.  Panties were wet (multiple times), food rejected and thrown overboard, and toys strewn hither and yon.  My patience wore thin.  Lucy was hungry but then had a burp and wouldn't settle to eat, or she finally slept only to be rudely awoken by Eden's loving ministrations.  My patience wore thinner.  Naptime came, finally!  The "reset" button to the day, if you will.  My hopes were doused when it became a huge power struggle - Eden wouldn't go to sleep, I wouldn't let her get up, so we all stayed on the bed til 2 o'clock, with Eden whining, kicking the wall, kicking her mama, standing on her head, burrowing under the covers, sucking on the wrong end of her water bottle, triumphantly getting up to go to the potty and then coming back and throwing a fit all over again at the prospect of laying down.  And of course, me reacting to each of her actions.  I knew I was making it worse, but I was tired and fed up and couldn't seem to break the cycle!  More than once, she got quiet, and then quieter, and stiller, and was alllllmost asleep....and then realized it and woke herself up again with silliness.  

So we got up, and she was a whiny mess of tired toddler, and I was a fed-up mess of tired mama, and what did I do? 

Basically ignored her for the rest of the afternoon.  

I know.  Not something I'm terribly proud of.  

I just did other stuff, took care of some emails, fed Lucy, and benignly neglected my Eden. 

Not out of calm, thought-out, mommy strategy, but out of sheer "I can't deal with this right now!" desperation.

Funny thing is, she whined about for awhile.  She tried to get me to engage. (I did; I wasn't being mean, I just took care of whatever she really needed and then left her to her own devices.)  And then she just started playing on her own.  She crashed her little bike and the kiddycar on the kitchen floor.  She scattered her (dry) beans all over.  She dumped out the Duplos, and piled her stuffed animals under the coffee table.  Books were here, there, and everywhere!  The house was a disaster.  

I just tuned out the whiny-ness and the mess, and wrapped myself up in a bit of calm.

Then I had to change Lucy's diaper.  I buzzed her chubby tummy, and made silly sounds at her.  Suddenly I heard Eden's giggle, and looking over, saw her leaning on the axle of her upside-down bike, watching us, and laughing uncontrollably.  She was a pumpkin, past the stage of irritability and coming into the slap-happy giggles.  

Who can resist a little girl giggling? Everything I did made her laugh harder, until I was laughing out loud too.  Reset.

We giggled and were silly, ate an improvised dinner, had a splashy bath and went to bed.

I still love being a stay-at-home mom, even on the hard days.  But those humbling days do make me not take myself so seriously!

Mother of Two

Somehow, I never thought it would be such a huge transition, going from one child to two.  I've done kids before!  Multiple kids, of all ages!  Why would adding a new baby to my so-far only child be so different, so  challenging, so down-right HARD?

(Okay, I didn't actually think that.  I just didn't really think about it at all.)

It was a challenge from the first weeks of pregnancy to adjust to parenting Eden under the simultaneous demands of morning sickness, milk decreasing, girth increasing, energy waxing and waning (but mostly waning), and all the changes that come with the expectant state.  I learned a lot about slowing down and allowing or even asking for help as I thought I needed it.  Thankfully, Eden was mostly happy and ready to become more independent, bit by bit.  

But when Lucy was born...

One night, when Lucy was just a few days old, Eden woke up crying.  I was in bed, next to the wall, with Lucy, and we had already spent most of the night wrestling with repeated newborn poopy diapers and the process of establishing breastfeeding.  Nate, sleeping to the outside, got up to comfort Eden and help her go back to sleep.  Except that she wouldn't.  She was still getting over a nasty cold, and all she wanted was her mama.  All I wanted was to go to her and make it all better, but Lucy had just latched on and was nursing avidly.  I knew Eden was safe in her loving daddy's patient (if somewhat exasperated) arms, and that I needed to lay still and let my body heal, as well as take care of Lucy, but my heart felt like it was going to leap out of my body!  It was so hard to not be able to be there for her!  (And I will ever be grateful to my husband for dealing so patiently with all of us that night and not just leaving her to cry it out.  I don't think I could have handled that!)

It was such a hard thing for me to learn and be okay with the fact that I could no longer give my all to my one child, because now I had two children to give my all to.  And the logical extension of that realization is that each child, therefore, gets less.  And I was not okay with that!  The depth of desire I have for my children to be blessed and cared for is beyond what I could have comprehended before they came into my life.  It is hard to back up, let go, and trust, when all I want to do is make it all right for them!  In this light, I can understand better some people's decision to limit the number of their children in order to provide more, be there more fully, or in any way, make their lives better.

Except...
I am the fifth of eleven children.
I do not feel deprived, neglected, or like my life was in any way worse for having ten siblings.
I am very glad that my parents did not stop before I was born, and just as glad that they did not stop after I was born!  I treasure each one of my siblings, and each has contributed so much to my growth, my development, and the quality of my life.
I love and admire my mother and my father; I never doubted their love for, and devotion to, me, and to all of my brothers and sisters.  I knew they were sacrificing and doing a hard work in inviting all of us to their family, and I was so glad they were willing to!
I do not consider myself to have received "less" of anything, really, due to multiple siblings.  Only more.

So I am learning to trust that Heavenly Father will fill in the gaps, and that even as my capabilities are stretched to beyond their limit, His glorious grace will pour through the cracks into my children's lives.

(And yes, as the weeks pass, we are settling into our rhythm together and finding ease once again.  As a wise man once said (and I can't remember who it was), "That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do - not that the nature of the thing has changed, but our capacity to do it has increased." Or something like that.  But I know that much of that ease is coming as I learn to more fully rely on Heavenly Father as a mother of two.)

Looking Up, Not Down

Oh, My, Goodness.  It is so easy to look down.  It is so easy to feel the weight of my “burdens” and sag beneath the load that is mine.  It does me much good to get a little perspective now and then – that's why I love to read. 

            In the hormonal maelstrom of the early postpartum weeks, missing my newly-returned-to-Alaska husband, trying to balance the needs and demands of my now two children, and struggling with guilt and resentment at my somewhat incapacitated state of recovery and the service that required others to give, I found myself definitely looking down. 

            And then I had a few moments when both girls were asleep, and I was able to get online.  I checked emails and facebook, of course, and did a few more things before heading over for the first time in a few months to one of my favorite blogs.  I’ve been randomly following The Blessing of Verity for over a year now, and the chronicles that Susanna Musser has kept of her family and her own heart never fail to uplift me.  But not in a high-flown, fancy, head in the clouds way.  Oh, no.  This is very much a down to earth, practical application, day to day life sort of blog.

            Anyway, here is this mother of eleven, simultaneously expecting an twelfth baby and thirteenth child (older, with extreme special needs) by adoption, homeschooling and raising her children to love and serve one another, already dealing with the special needs of her youngest daughter, born with Down syndrome, and another daughter, adopted not that long ago, who also has Down syndrome as well as special needs resulting from her life pre-adoption.  Whew.  It wears me out just to type all that!  Yet she exudes a spirit of faith, love, determination, and worship.  I know that what is communicated through a blog is just a snippet of life, a little window through a wall, but when those snippets add up to a consistent whole, when each little window shows a slightly different, but very congruent, piece of a picture, I take it as a good sign that it's a true picture.  Besides, it’s just too much work to be fictional, or dishonest, on your blog when you have so much else to do! J

            She’s an inspiration to me.  She reminds me of where my focus ought to be.  She helps me feel new gratitude for my blessings, my challenges, and my Savior.  She shows me how to live with grace, and in reading her words, I find that much needed perspective on my own life.  She helps me to remember, as President Monson is quoted to have said,  to “look up!  It is better to look up than to look down!”

Lucy's Birth

Our little Lucy is seven weeks, and not longer so little! Her knees and elbows have little dimples, her little biceps and thighs have fat creases, and she looks like a perfect little dolly!  I look back on her birth and can hardly believe that it was such a short time ago!  So here is the story…

            Short, uncomplicated version – Lucy was born, two days after her due date, at my parents house at 10:20 pm on Monday, Jan. 21^st, after two and a half hours of labor.  We were attended by Nate and, at the last second, my mother, and the midwives arrived 15 and 20 minutes later.  I did go to the hospital for some sutures, which is worse than giving birth, but as far as the labor and birth went, it couldn’t have been better.

            And now for the long, detailed version – We had hoped to meet this baby significantly earlier than January 21^st.  Nate had only a certain amount of vacation before he had to go back to Alaska, and more than anything, I wanted him to be with me for the birth.  I didn’t care who else was there, but Nate HAD to be there.  And we hoped he’d even have a little time with us postpartum to get acquainted and help us transition as a family.  Eden was born at 38 weeks, so I thought it was reasonable to expect this one around the same time.  Besides, I’d been having episodes of significant contractions every time I got stressed and over-exerted myself since 34 weeks pregnant.  Well, so much for all that.

(Actually, it probably was accomplishing a lot of the early dilation very gradually.)

Anyway, we met with the midwives and thankfully, there was a good connection there.  They warned us that second labors often go in half the time of first labors, so to expect about 2.5-3 hours total. (How right they were!)  However, the days came and went, and little baby stayed securely inside.  We walked.  We danced.  We did…all sorts of things…in an effort to help this little one make an entrance (or exit? J) Nothing extreme, being well aware that she wasn’t even quite due yet, but I was about at the end of my rope.  Never again will I judge anyone for getting tired of being pregnant, especially at the end!  Being pregnant is a miracle, one that I love and give thanks for and will accept as many times as it comes to me, but for heavens sake! All good things must come to an end, and I prayed for the end of this one!  I was so ready to move on to the next stage!  I didn’t know how much more one’s body could stretch in those last two weeks, how long the nights became when interrupted regularly by urgent (like suddenly realizing I’m going to explode!) potty trips, shooting pains down hips and calves, trying to stay on one’s left side to help baby get into a good position, and how all my clothes would just run out of room.  I went to bed each night, thinking, “Maybe this will be the night!” and woke up each morning grumpy and out of sorts because I was still very, very pregnant. 

            I finally got over my bad attitude, telling myself that I was just going to be pregnant forever, and just focused on taking each day as it came.  And really they were lovely days – soft California winter of clear skies and bright sun, shared with my sweetheart and our daughter, enjoying time with family, going for walks, just soaking up the togetherness of the time. 

            I thought I’d lost my mucous plug on Saturday, Lucy’s due date, but I didn’t want to tell anyone because I’d been pointing out every sign as it came along and so far none of them had led to anything exciting.  They just sort of petered out.  Talk about deflating the excitement!  So I didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call the midwives, just noticed and let it go.  Sure enough, nothing happened.  I had to go to church another Sunday, elephantine in my maternity.  Monday night, I was actually googling how long after losing the mucous plug one usually goes into labor, when I felt a sudden warm gush.  My first thought was to ascertain that I hadn’t wet myself, as that can be an unexpected side effect of being so pregnant.  No, I had not.  In fact, when I shifted in my seat, more warm fluid gushed out.  I asked my dad to get me a towel, and sat waiting, thinking, “Finally!  I’m so glad to be in labor!”  Not five minutes later, the first contraction/pressure wave hit, and the second came within five minutes of the first.  They took off from there.  Within probably 15 minutes I could feel sweat drip off of me as I breathed through a contraction, and I remember thinking, “Oh, right.  This is labor.  This is the work, the effort, the intensity of bringing a child into this world.  I am glad it’s finally happening, but this is HARD.” 

            I had called the senior midwife shortly after my water broke, and sent her a text as well.  She didn’t respond, and I left a message, but thought nothing of it – I had several times left messages, only to receive a return call not very long after.  Truthfully, once those first messages were sent, my mind was very caught up in other things and I didn’t even think of it again until they walked in the door.  It turns out that her phone had suddenly and unexpectedly died.  It was charged up, nothing was wrong with it – it just died and she didn’t know it until it turned itself on again.  Then, of course, they came as fast as they could, but it wasn’t as fast as Lucy!

            We took a shower, and when we got out the kitchen had been transformed into a peaceful, darkened birthing room.  Dinner’s dishes had magically disappeared. The dining room table and benches were carefully stowed out of the way.  A neatly made bed awaited me in the middle of the clean linoleum floor, and strings of white twinkle lights around the edge of the ceiling lit the room with a soft glow.  Everyone was quietly and inconspicuously holed up in their own rooms.  I went directly from the bathroom to the bed and immediately lay down on my left side.  Nate knelt near me and I rather forcefully directed him to push on my lower back, which he did for the next hour and a half, I guess.  (I wasn’t paying attention to the time!)  Every time he’d move in the least, I let him know he needed to stay right where he was, and as long as he did, I could manage.  The Hypnobabies “Easy First Stage” track was playing on my phone, and it was all I could do to focus and relax.  I began to vocalize, moaning as low and deep as I could.  (My mom later said it sounded kind of like mooing.  Oh well.)  At some point I was trying so hard to relax and my muscles were trying so hard to do whatever they were doing that my tummy literally began to jump and spasm.  I could feel it, and Nate could see it, and it was very strange!

            Suddenly I couldn’t stay down any longer and with no conscious effort on my part I was up on hands and knees, pushing.  Nate got ready to catch, and my mom, hearing the change in the noises I was making, came out of her bedroom to help, knowing that no one had yet arrived.  Lucy was born very quickly!  They caught her, I flipped over, and my wet, pink, new little daughter was on my chest, wide-eyed and ready to latch on.  We were not surprised that she was a girl; we’d sort of expected that from the time we knew she was coming.

            Suddenly, it seemed, the midwives were there, assessing, discussing, checking us all out.  I was totally exhausted – all I wanted was to curl up with my precious babe and SLEEP!  But no, it turned out I had torn and needed sutures, so I got up and we tried it out on the kitchen table.  It would have been fine – the midwife knew what she was doing – but it turned out to be more extensive than we had thought, so after consuming an egg and some toast my mom thoughtfully, and hastily, prepared, we trundled off to the hospital.  Ugh. 

(A word about tearing – it was totally my biggest fear about giving birth the first time.  Then, as this time, I did end up tearing and realized that it’s no big deal.  I didn’t feel a thing.  In fact, when the midwife asked me if I thought I tore, I answered, “No!” with no hesitation.  The sutures, however, are a totally different story.  I’d rather give birth all over again than be stitched up!!  But that's not really an option, unfortunately…)

So we had our little hospital adventure, and they were really very nice to us all.  The midwives came with us – they were great, and I wished they could have been there for the birth.  It was wonderful.  If I could do it all over again just like that, without the hospital trip, that's the way I’d go every time.  Each birth is different and every woman is different – I think that home birth is only one of many good options.  For me, for us, this time, it was absolutely the best.

Family Portraits

These were taken during our Christmas visit to California by my very talented sister, Rochelle Rupp.

My Handsome Husband!  How I love this man!

Blessings and Sacrifices

Inside the tough, tedious, sometimes very bitter rind of sacrifice lies an indescribably sweet nectar of blessing.

(This post is not to judge anyone who does not parent the way I choose to parent, nor to say anything at all about their style of parenting.  As in all of life, I believe each person has a responsibility to carefully and thoughtfully seek out the methods, styles, etc. of parenting that are truly in the best interest of their family and children.  I do feel very strongly about many of my parenting choices, but I want to say very clearly that I have to answer to my own conscience regarding what I do, and I don't hold anyone else to that standard.  So basically, this is just my experience and I'm not trying to judge!)

I began to write this post several months ago, after a very trying day which ended with a long bedtime battle to get our determined daughter to calm down and go to sleep.  It was hard.  Very hard.  I wanted very much to give up and just let her cry it out.  But I didn't.  I breathed deeply, deliberately relaxed my tense muscles, and silently prayed for grace.  I rocked her and sang to her and shhhed her and bounced and lay by her side, and she finally went limp and lay, warm and soft, cuddled in my arms, both arms around my neck and a hand twined in my hair.  I, too, went limp and just lay there, letting the relief wash over me like waves.  In that moment, the words with which I opened this post came very quietly and clearly to my mind.  I was filled with the sweetness of my child, the blessing of her trust, the physical enjoyment of those moments snuggled so close.  The fleetingness of the experience was impressed upon me.  I realized that I could not have all this, would not be able to savor it so, if I had chosen a different path of parenting earlier, when the sacrifice was so tedious and tough.  I would have other things to be doing, enjoying, experiencing, but not this moment.  And this moment was totally worth it.

And one more thing.

This is our little daredevil's latest feat of daring.  We left the bathroom door open for just a minute, unattended, and found her here -

Finally....

Aunt Laurel sent Eden this beautiful stuffed animal as a birthday present.  H. christened it  "Rusty" and Eden loves it!  Here she is, discovering its marvels for the first time.

Using the easel as a walker!

Nate took us on a boat ride up the Naknek River for a picnic.  It was a beautiful day, quite chilly, but lots of fun!  Eden was really scared though, besides being tired and cold, and this was the closest we got to a smile. :)

New mobility brings new discoveries!

She climbs all the way inside, behind the door, and throws out the plastic stuff we keep in there.

A beautiful evening during the two short but lovely weeks of autumn we enjoyed.

Hurray for brushing teeth!  Eden loves to brush her own or anyone else's!

What a good daddy!

It was too cold and snowy to go out, but we made do, playing in the snow on the back porch from the doorsill!

Yes, she climbed up there by herself.  At least she stopped trying to stand up after I told her not to.  Nothing is safe now!

She pee's on the potty every morning when we get up, and usually at bathtime, too. Not at all afraid!  

I thought that was a cool pic with Mt. Chiginigak volcano in the background. This is one of the rivers I would take people out heli-fishing to.

This is the view from the mahogony throne (ok, not actually mahogony, but it sounds good) in the outhouse at the sport fishing camp that I flew to all summer long. This camp was posh - gourmet chef, hot water shower, wood burning stove - all this and no one else around for 130mi in any direction!

Looking south across Mt. Chiginigak. I flew by here a couple times a week all season long. This is one of the 3 calm clear days when I could get good pics of the volcano.

This is an open plume on the North side of the Chiginigak Volcano. The plume is probably at about 5500'.

This is looking at the bottom of the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes in Katmai National Park. The valley floor is just one big ash flow from the last eruption of Mt. Griggs in 1912. There are deep canyons where the rivers have cut through. The cool thing about this pic is the dust you see blowing. It is volcanic ash. Very dangerous to helicopters. On this particular day the wind was blowing up to 45-50 mph through the mountain passes. It is hard to tell from the picture but the ash cloud (blowing down the valley from right to left) is over 1000' thick! Needless to say, I had to take the long way for the rest of the day. I also ended up flying through the worst turbulence I've ever been in.

Another of our autumn adventures.  You can't see much of Eden; she's actually asleep between us.  At first she was pretty scared, but by the end she was out cold.

About 24 weeks pregnant in these pictures!

Alaska sunrise

Silly girl!  She can put her pants and tights on her own head now, and knows she's funny when she does!

"Mama!" According to Eden, she and I are basically the same person.

The iphone cam just doesn't do justice. I need Trevor's camera!