a year in review

2011

3 firsts

1. first garden

2. first ER trip

3. first hurricane

3 favorites adventures

1. Niagara falls/Palmyra

2. 4th of July in Boston

3. Sister's weekend in Oklahoma City


3 new things

1. a new baby!

2. a new car!

3. a new kindergartener!


3 things mommy said all the time:

1. What time is it?

2. I spent all day cleaning and the house is already a mess!

3. Look at the beautiful world Heavenly Father created!



Bring in the new year! I'm sure 2012 will be just as good.

my boys will be boys (& my girls will be girls)

About the time Jack turned 3, maybe sooner, but I started noticing it then, I realized that he was a boy. Of course, I had always known he was. But suddenly, he didn't quite so easily give in to Ana's whims of what to play or watch on TV and his play became more ... "boy-ish." Suddenly his cars were zooming in the air and everything became a sword. He wanted to get Spiderman things. Which I found especially weird because we have never introduced him to Spiderman.

Suddenly I can see the difference in boys and girls. Despite Ana's love of pink and princesses and arts and crafts, Jack's not interested. They are different. Jack checks books out from the library about space and science and Ana wants books about fairies and unicorns. Jack paints blue and green blobs and Ana paints rainbows. Ana wants to watch Barbie princess movies and Jack prefers Thomas and Cars.

Recently there seems to be all this hoopla about gender roles. People are raising their children to be "genderless." Disney states that princesses teach outdated ideals. People freak out over gender specific toys or games or sports.

But men and women are different. Physiologically, emotionally, spiritually. What is the sense in telling girls to be more like boys or boys to be more like girls. Isn't that sending the signal that they should ignore who they are and conform to society's standard of sameness?

I am a woman. I have the physiological parts and hormones and emotional inclinations ideal for motherhood. Motherhood is a noble calling. I have no issues teaching my daughters to be feminine, to want to be a mother, and to find joy in keeping hearth and home.

I will also teach her to get an education, to be kind and to stand up for what is right.

Dave is a man. He has the physicological parts and hormones and emotional inclinations for fatherhood and manhood. He takes pride in his ability to provide for his family. I have no issues teaching my sons to "be a man" by working hard and wanting and providing for his family.

I will also teach him to treat women with respect, to be kind and to stand up for what is right.

In a world with increasingly blurry lines of gender roles, I stand by the traditional ones. Men and women are different. And we need each other.

christmas week

I was surprisingly non-stressed last week. We made gingerbread houses with our friends, I finished up a few projects, made Christmas goodies for our friends, and cleaned my entire house. And though the gingerbread house was a much bigger project than I anticipated, a few projects were left unfinished, my goodies were not nearly as ambitious as I had previously wanted, and my house was clean for a whole 10 minutes before Ana and Jack crumbled zucchini bread all over the floor, I kept my cool, and we ended up with a wonderful Christmas. We got together with friends for a Christmas Eve program. Opened our traditional Christmas jammies and then tucked the children into bed.

Christmas was nice. Dave got me THIS watch. I got him THIS rain jacket (in red). Ana got a "sewing set" and a pillow pet and Jack got a basketball hoop and an umbrella. And a few other things. Then we went to Church. I liked that. We had a delicious Christmas dinner at our friends house. It was such a great Christmas. Simple.


Yesterday we took our dead Christmas Tree down and we are now enjoying a nice relaxing week with nothing on our schedule. Now if we could just get some snow.

merry christmas 2011

May your days be merry & bright.

getting out of the rut

Perhaps it is the time of year. I usually wax all philosophical when the year is drawing to a close. Re-evaluation and all that.

Lately I've been in a rut. It isn't the stress of the season - my shopping is all done. Perhaps it is the dreary days a bit. But I think it is something else.

I was reading through status updates on my facebook account and things started jumping out at me. "Can I go back to bed?" "My children are driving me crazy." "Sick again! Can we ever catch a break?" "Can't sleep - too much on my mind." "This is so irritating!" "I hate it when...."

(This isn't to say that I don't want to hear about trials and struggles that others are going through. I do. I want to know when my close friends and family need prayers and help and support. Hard time come to us all. I hope that my family and friends know they can open up to me. )

It isn't just on facebook. News stories (particularly comments to news stories) are filled with derision and judgements. About the campaign, about the Duggars, about some so-called celebrity, about religious people, about non-religious people. Blogs dedicated to "people I want to punch in the face." It doesn't stop. The internet is full of complainers and if you spend too much time there (like I do) it starts to seep in too.

The negativity affects me. It changes how I respond to my kids. It changes how I respond to my husband. And the time I spend in it takes me away from my wonderful children and life. It is time for a change. Life was meant to be enjoyed.

In the midst of all this negativity, I came across this video:



I was moved to tears.

I hope this Christmas finds your family happy and healthy. I hope I find time this week to look beyond myself. To be cheerful and loving. To enjoy life.

The days are long. But the years are short. I do not want to spend them whining.

walking in a winter skiff of snow

We haven't had much snow in these parts. The day before Thanksgiving we had a good snowfall, but it all melted within a few days and since then we've only had an inch now and then. Even still, I really haven't been outside much. Saturday morning we awoke to a light dusting. The air was crisp, we had nothing on the schedule, the kids were going stir crazy. So we bundled up and went walking.

Ana's idea of bundling up was 4 shirts, 2 pants, a skirt, scarf, hat, mittens & boots. Jack wore his full snow suit and coat.

As usual, Ana ran on ahead and Jack lagged behind dragging a stick.

Katie stayed sleeping & bundled in the stroller.


We spent a few minutes at the park. It was deserted and the children relished in their full reign.


It was a lovely time. The walk rejuvenated us. Seeing their smiles and hearing their giggles filled me with love for these little children of mine. Simple things make life happy.

dear santa

(my futile attempt at taking cool holiday pictures)

Every time we go into any store my kids ask to buy a million things.

Yet here it is Christmas time and let me share with you what they are asking Santa for.

Jack: an umbrella. He has had this on his list for approximately 4 months. Ana has one. He saw one in the store that had Lightening McQueen on it a while back and I told him, "maybe you can ask Santa for one for Christmas." And he is. A few weeks ago he also added a (toy) jet to his list. That's it.

Ana: I have asked several times what she wants for Christmas. Her answers have varied from "A real live pony" to "I just want to buy Jack a new car since I lost his old one." One thing she insists is that you can only ask Santa for ONE thing and then you'll be sure to get it. She tells Jack this every day. Today I asked her again what she was going to ask Santa for and she replied,

"I think I'll just tell him to bring me whatever he wants to."

I love my children.

twenty-nine

I love this man! He is smart. He is funny. He is the world's best daddy. He doesn't care that I pick my toes or dance like a weirdo. I love his eyes and his smile.

I could go on, but he's not into that sort of cheesy stuff.


Happy Birthday to the love of my life.

kids and freedom

I was talking to a friend this week who recently got married. She made the comment, "Kids scare me. I love my freedom too much." I know others that share the sentiment. It seems like most of society shares the sentiment. So I started thinking.

Why wasn't I scared to have kids? I came up with 4 ideas that may have influenced me.

1. I grew up in a big family. My mom liked being a mother. We had a good time. She taught us to make bread and cookies and how to sew. She wanted us all to grow up and be mothers. And though my parents definitely encouraged their daughters to get an education (all 8 girls went to college, 5 have bachelor's degrees, 2 of those have a masters) they also encouraged having a family.

My mom and 7 of her 9 children, May 2011

2. I grew up in a big family. And I was near the end. That means that I watched 5 older siblings flirt, date, get married and have kids. I saw that they were happy. Kids were often around. I knew that they were sticky and noisy and dependent. But I also knew that they were sweet and innocent and adorable.

3. I grew up in a big family. I didn't have a lot of freedom. I didn't have many things that were my own. We shared chores, clothes, toys, bikes and rooms. We had curfews and responsibilities and we didn't have our own car unless we got a job and purchased one.

4. I got married young. I went from having no freedom at home, to having a little more freedom at college, to being married. I think I have had my own room for all of 5 years. (And that is probably longer than some of my other siblings.) I didn't own a car until I was married. I paid for college myself and I didn't have a lot of extra money lying around to go off and have adventures. Dave and I got married and we didn't have a lot of extra money lying around to go off and have adventures. And we both wanted kids. So we had kids.

And, actually, I feel like I have lots of freedom. I can take a nap when I want to. I don't have to answer to anyone but myself. I can choose when to do my work and when to play. I swap kids with my neighbors to exercise or run errands.

Mostly, there is nothing like my little girl handing me a note that says, "I lev you, mam." It brings me a lot of happiness.

peace and quiet

The house is quiet.

I hear the hum of the refrigerator and the passing of cars down the street.

The floor littered with toys. The sink full of dishes.

Three sleeping children. One a babe in my arms.

My thoughts turn to the day. Was I enough?

I close my eyes and pray for them.

But mostly, I pray for me. For strength. For guidance. For love.

My eyes open. Inspiration comes.

And with it, peace.

but for the grace of God

My senior year of high school was awesome! I realize high school is over and it isn't "everything" like you think it is when you are living it. But it was still a fun time. I had a big group of friends, most of whom were much cooler than me, but my best friend (whom Katie was named after) was somewhat of the ring leader so I was included in the group. We had a grand ol' time doing mostly stupid things.

This week, one among that group died very suddenly. We weren't super close or anything. But he was really awesome - funny and super nice to everyone. He took me to the Valentine's dance my senior year. We spent that dance laughing and annoying our friends by "cutting in" on slow songs.



I have been affected by it more than I thought I would. I already have a preoccupation with death. I don't know why. (But it is enough that right after Ana was born, Dave and I got life insurance.) Sometimes I will be sitting around my house during the day and think "what if something happened to me right now?" It's a little morbid. I don't know know if the news of my friend has helped or hindered it, but it has made me think.

It has made me think about life and death. You can't really live as if it is our last day because frankly, I wouldn't wash the dishes or send Ana to school. It has made me think about how I treat those I love. You can always treat others with kindness and respect. It has made me think "But for the grace of God, there go I."

My prayers go out to my friend's wife and children and his family. God be with you 'til we meet again.

my need for patience

My children must think I am mute. They must think so, because they seem to not hear what I say. It's been one of those weeks months. My patience is wearing thin. Jack has suddenly become a crazy little boy - literally running circles around me some days. Ana just ignores my every request or just flat out says "no." I have to repeat myself over and over and over again. It drives me crazy!!!

It's under these conditions that I came to a realization today:

Ana is so much like me. I am so much like Ana. The things that drive me the most crazy about Ana are the qualities most like some of my own.

*Last Monday I wrote the following in my journal.

"Today was a "yes" day. Ana is home for Thanksgiving Break, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so I woke up this morning without any energy to say "no." And though they watched TV all morning, we made bread, did the dishes, made Dave lunch and took it to him, went to the local children's museum, did a "Thankful Tree," ate 3 meals, AND made s'mores together AND did jobs AND still got the bed before 8. Not only that, but we made it through the day with no fits or tears and Ana was very cooperative.

Perhaps my expectations for my days are too high. Today I had low expectations and it turned out great and happy. Days that I try too hard are harder on everyone. And perhaps Ana just needs to hear "yes" a little more often."

(making s'mores)

I thought about that today. I thought about how frustrated I am when I hear "no" (or no response at all) and I thought about how I would feel if I was being bossed around and told "no" all the time. Suddenly, I can see why she is uncooperative. I probably would be too.

*In Relief Society today, we watched President Uchtdorf's "Forget-Me-Not" address. It is an excellent talk, and I never get tired of hearing it. I thought about how often we hear the same things over and over at church: Read scriptures, say prayers, go to the church, go to the Temple, pay tithing, be kind, etc. It is all the same. And yet, I need the reminder. I don't always say my prayers or read my scriptures. I'm not always kind to those around me. And I am always reminded. It helps to be told things over and over.

Just as I hope God is patient with me, I hope I can be more patient with my children. After all, we aren't really that different.

rolly polly

Hi! I'm hanging out on the floor today.



Ooo... Look what is over here.



A toy! I want it, I want it...


Dang, I over shot things. Hmmm.... Now what.


This electrical cord looks fun. I'll play with it instead.


Now I'm going to cry for mom to pick me up.




PS. Katie is the youngest of my kids to roll. Both the others were 7 months! I guess this means no more leaving her on the couch.

its beginning to look a lot like christmas - 2011 edition

Saturday was Christmas tree buying day! We left Saturday morning, but discovered that the flat tire we thought we had fixed the day before was no longer fixed. Three hours and 2 new tires later (boo!) we headed to the Christmas tree farm. This year was slightly warmer than last year.








Jack really got into decorating the tree. I have this weird mix lately of thinking Jack is such a big boy and remembering that he is still so little and that there are so many things I want to remember about him right now. Like how he put all his ornaments on the bottom few branches and that he keeps trying to sneak some more ornaments on the tree. Ana wanted to put all her ornaments up really high by the star, so our tree is lacking in the middle sections. But I don't really want to fix it. I want to remember it how it is.







We also put lights on the outside of our house, which I LOVE!!! Tonight I'm going to make a wreath and then it's time to get cracking on my handmade gifts for the year. Christmas makes me happy.

let them eat pie

We've had a busy weekend spent with good friends, good food and a lot of family time. Happy times. I've been thinking and reflecting a lot this weekend. Between the turkey and the stuffing and the gravy one thing kept coming back to me.

Pies.

I've heard this absurdity that some people don't like pie. This I do not understand. It is a dessert with endless possibilities. Pie is never boring. Whatever dessert you like, there is a pie for you.

You don't like traditional pie crust? Fine - (but I bet you have never had good pie crust...) you can have graham cracker, chocolate, sugar cookie, or cinnamon roll.

Are you a fruit person? You can put it in a pie. You also have cream pies in many varieties: chocolate, coconut (my favorite, but only my mother's recipe), lemon, banana.

There are thick and creamy pies and light and fluffy pies. Pies topped with whipped cream or meringue or a nice brown sugar crumb topping. You can have a pie with pecan or key limes. (Yum!)

Then there are cheesecakes, with all of their endless possibilities including pumpkin and nutella, both of which I have made and devoured, or regular topped with cherries.

I made 3 pies on Wednesday. Pumpkin cheescake (this recipe). Chocolate Cream. And my mother's Coconut Cream. It tasted just like hers. In that moment, I missed my mom. Its amazing what a pie can do.

Go make a pie. Or better yet, I'll make one for you. But first I'm going to go finish one off.

first snow!

Jack: Is it Christmas?

Ana: I'm confused... How can it be snowing if it's not the first day of winter yet?

Of course we had to play in it...


Katie slept...


Kenzie smiled...

Yay for the holidays!!!

thankful tree

Nothing like a good ol' Thankful Tree to kick off Thanksgiving Week.



It's funny, but this simple exercise really does help me to remember my blessings.

Especially my children, who think of things like, "hugs" and "Jesus" and "trees".

Love it!

3 babies

I have baby births on my mind lately. I don't know why. I keep thinking back on the births of my three babies. They were all so different, but I was happy with each one.

Labor went exactly how it is supposed to go with Ana. Tuesday morning contractions were regular and I started timing. I went to the store and made banana bread for a friend who had just had a baby herself. Contractions were getting closer - about 5 minutes apart. About lunch time I called Dave and told him when he got off work we probably would go to the hospital. He called me back a while late and said, "Just come and get me now." After I picked him up, we headed to my friend's house. After that we went to eat at Subway, but I wasn't too hungry. We got to the hospital about 6 and they decided I was probably in labor and admitted me. But they didn't have any rooms so they told me to walk around for a while. So Dave and I walked around while he read some cheesy church novel to me. Fun times.

About 8 I was in a room. Labor was going pretty well. Contractions were steadily getting harder and closer. At 10 they broke my water. Then contractions came hard and fast. I couldn't relax. I was worried. Everyone said the pushing was the hardest and I was already in ALOT of pain. I couldn't breath through them. Dave touching me drove me crazy. So I opted for an epidural. I got one about 12 AM. I threw up right away and then I finally slept. (Dave did not. He stood next to the TV watching the Cosby Show.) At about 2 o'clock I woke up, I wanted someone to check my progress. Finally at 3 the doctor came to check and Ana was crowning. I pushed for about 30 minutes, during which time Dave got light-headed and had to sit down. Ana was born at 3:34 AM.

Jack was different. Labor was stop and go for 2 days. I Finally on Saturday afternoon I went to the hospital. After walking around for a while, they decided to keep me. I had Group B strep, so I had to labor for 4 hours while my antibiotic ran, so I decided to get an epidural early. Once again, I threw up and my blood pressure dropped so I had to have some oxygen for a while, but then Dave and I chatted and watched TV for a few hours. The doc told us he'd be back at 7. It came and went and Dave kept saying we should call him. But I was watching Ever After and wasn't in a hurry. Finally he showed up at 8:30. He broke my water and then, knowing Dave was a soon-to-be med student, he put him to work. He told the nurse to get him some gloves and she pulled a couple out of the box. "No, not those. Get him sterile gloves." The nurse looked a little shocked, and handed Dave the gloves. With the doctor as his guide and the nurse as my pushing coach, Dave delivered Jack a few minutes before 10 PM, only an hour after my water was broken. It was awesome!



By the time I was pregnant with Katie, I recognized that my problem with Ana's birth was my inability to keep myself calm. But I had been working on it. (I'm still working on it.) I didn't want an epidural this time. I had no issues with my previous births, but I didn't like the woozy feeling I got right after my epidural, so I wanted to do it without. I practiced breathing through it by breathing through the leg cramps I got frequently during pregnancy. The Saturday before she was born we went up to the hospital late at night because my labor was pretty regular. But then sent me home because contractions stopped. That continued for the next 3 days. They'd be regular for a while and then stop. I went to the doctor every day that week to be checked and I wasn't progressing. I told the doctor how I wasn't getting any sleep and that my labors usually pick up after my water is broken. So we decided to head up to the hospital to brake my water. I was so thankful! She knew I didn't want an epidural, but she warned me that sometimes intervening early can lead to problems and that we might end up with one anyway if I needed pitocin. I understood, and we headed to the hospital.

At about 1 my water was broken. I then spent the next few hours walking around the maternity ward. It has a fabulous view and Dave and I spent much of our time laughing and trying to figure out a way to use my Grandma's name (Doris) with Katie. (Most options were quite comical and we ended up not using it at all.) By 5-ish the contractions were quite strong and uncomfortable. I took a shower and took a lot of deep breaths. After that I just wanted to lay down. So I spent the rest of the time in bed breathing. I held Dave's hand and breathed. My doctor was fabulous. Knowing my plan, she never even offered an epidural but spent the time telling me I was strong and that I was doing great. Time came to push. I told Dave that I couldn't do it anymore. He assured me I could (though he was thinking that I didn't have a choice anyway) and I pushed for 20 minutes. She was born about 7:30 PM. They placed her on my chest and kept her there. It was wonderful.



Giving birth is such a wonderful, empowering thing. It doesn't matter how it happens, epidural or not, c-section or natural, it is a wonderful thing to hold that baby and know that you grew it and now it is here.

Now I have a 5 year old, a 3 year old and an adorable little baby and they are my world! I am so grateful for my body and my babies.

on a monday afternoon

playing on the floor with my boy:








I love being a mom. I even love blocks and trains on the living room floor. Someday I'll miss it. I better keep having babies!

enough for one

For me, the hardest thing about being a mom is not the late night feedings (or puking) sessions. It's not the noise or the clutter or the lack of independence. It isn't the physical pain or sickness or fatigue of pregnancy and childbirth.

The hardest thing for me is the issue of not being enough. I feel surrounded by reminders of my failures. Jeans that are too tight remind me that I am not skinny enough. My messy house reminds me I'm not neat enough. I lose my temper and I'm reminded that I'm not calm enough. Seeing my neighbor who seems to always be serving others reminds me that I'm not selfless enough. Trying to teach my children to be kind and hard-working reminds me that I don't know what I'm doing. Pinterest reminds me that I'm not stylish/creative enough.

I know that I am way harder on myself than anyone else. My children are forgiving. My house eventually gets cleaned up. I will eventually lose the baby weight. But there are times when the negative voice in my head drowns out all reason.

And then there is Katie. When she is hungry, I feed her. When she is tired, I rock her. I smile and coo at her and she smiles back. No matter what chaos is swirling around me, her smile melts it all away. I am happiest when looking in her face.



The other day I was driving down the road thinking about how I want another baby. Then I told myself that was crazy and why was I thinking about that already. Today I realized why I was thinking such nonsense.

To a sweet little baby, I am enough.