Ponytails and Paradise

Pummeled

2011-09-30T01:28:00.000-07:00

About a week before Echo was born, I wrote the following in a post:

"I feel pretty accomplished when I can get three square meals on the table, [the dishes washed], a load of laundry done, and a path through the toys cleared in one day. But that doesn't get you "ahead" anywhere. I'm barely holding back the tide and I'm afraid once the baby comes, I'm going to get pummeled."

Well, folks, it's true. That about sums up how I feel lately. Pummeled.

The house is a wreck. I haven't done my dishes tonight or picked up any of the toys. I didn't do a single load of laundry today. I slept through breakfast, (we got home at 3AM from a trip, and the baby was up by 7-ish, so I don't hold it against myself too much), I don't remember if the girls really had a lunch, and a last minute trail ride foiled dinner plans, so the girls ate cereal.

In the time I spent tonight "unwinding" from the day, I could've easily done two loads of laundry, washed the dishes, AND picked up the living room. Or balanced my checkbook, written out the bills for next month, entered receipts for the business, mended something from my Mend Pile Mountain, edited the website, exercised, or tackled any one of the projects that have been mentally and emotionally eating me alive. But I didn't. Instead I just mulled over things that I know I need to do, but just don't ever seem to do them. I have so many ideas of how I want to clean, organize, decorate, and yet no idea/motivation of where to begin. I decide on one area to work on, only to find out there are "prerequisites" before I can really do them, so they are left undone altogether.

To make matters worse, I'm addicted to staying up late. I love sleep! I WANT to sleep, NEED to sleep, SHOULD sleep, and yet I still find myself puttering away those nighttime hours, strictly because they are my own. No interruptions (for the most part), silent, bliss when I can just be ME. I know it creates a vicious cycle, because I will be unproductive and irritable tomorrow, longing for a few minutes alone, which I know doesn't come until everyone else is asleep again. But still I do it.

It's a humbling and frightening realization that being responsible/a mom/a wife/etc is harder than you ever imagined. I had great plans and expectations of how I would be an awesome mom, a cherished wife, have a cute home, and still have time to cook, clean, and create like a super hero. And if I didn't finish everything I was supposed to that day, I wouldn't go to bed until I did. Because super heroes don't need sleep, either.

I don't mean to be a negative, depressed, woe is me, dark cloud of despair kind of person. I know it never solves anything. I really do have so many things to be grateful for. And here are just four of them.

I guess I relieved a little guilt tonight, being late and all, because after 2+ months, I finally wrote a blog post.

Of Mice and Rattlesnake Guts

2011-07-27T23:43:00.000-07:00

Last Monday, we returned home from a family trip to Idaho, which I may or may not blog about. I make no promises, therefore I have no guilt. Anyway, upon arriving home, I was greeted by several unpleasant things. One being a very large, still-soaking wet dog piddle-puddle on my carpet. How it got there, and how it was still so wet, remains an unsolved mystery since I beat ALL the dogs into the house. The second unpleasant surprise was a certain dead smell I encountered in my kitchen, around the area of my stove. We've concluded that it is a dead mouse in our wall. There is a vent behind my stove into the garage and it must be somewhere in that vicinity because no amount of poking or prodding under the stove or in the vent has been successful in producing the mouse. The smell has gotten better with time, except when the heat from the stove heats up the wall. Any suggestions on solving my problem are welcome.

Now on to the second half of my title, which no doubt got your attention. The other day, Shane killed a very large rattlesnake at the barn. It had 13 buttons on his tail, but you can tell there were more than that; they had just worn away. I haven't seen a rattler that big in quite a while.

Exhibit A: 13-button rattler

Anyway, that was last Wednesday. This past Sunday, we went to visit Shane's family. Somehow that rattlesnake had gotten hauled down from the barn area to their yard and had ripened horrifically over the next four hot, summer days. We did not notice this little factoid until all the dogs had proceeded to roll all over in it, and smear the most putrid rotten-gut stench all over into their coats. I put my foot down when it came time to load up and go home, since we had all ridden in the van. There was NO WAY I was letting those dogs sit in MY van. I told Shane they could stay at the barn for a few days until the scent wore off. That was all good and fine until Shane opened the back of the van for something and quick as a whistle, Sadie jumped in. Shane hauled her out, but the damage was done. We drove all the way home with the windows down and the AC on full blast, but it was no use. The girls were both sitting in the very back and Rain kept telling me the whole way home, "Oooh yuck! I smell rattlesnake!"

So there you have it--lessons learned. Febreeze, anyone?

Mesa - Two years old!

2011-05-16T13:56:00.000-07:00

Petting the first foal of the season.

Mesa turned 2 on May 1st. Wow! We had a family baby blessing and dinner in Cane Beds that day, so I didn't have a cake ready for Mesa yet. Hopefully, I can remedy that before May is over. But I think she would forgive me if I don't. We went to her Well-Baby Check up last week and thankfully she didn't have to have any shots. (We are good until she's four--yay!). She had woke up with a slight fever that morning so she was a little grumpy at the appointment. When they were trying to test her blood pressure (or something) she sat still for a moment and then kept telling me, "I'm done!" But she was a good sport and she is growing incredibly.

Her Stats:

Height: 3ft 1.5in (37.5") Percentile: OFF THE CHART!

Weight: 35 lbs Percentile: OFF THE CHART!

Just for fun, Dr. Bowman projected her height and weight numbers as a three-year-old. She is in the 75th percentile for height and weight. That means she is bigger than 75% of all other 3yo children! and she just turned 2! The Dr. wasn't too worried because she is consistent for height and weight. She's just a big girl, but she is balanced.

It's been a tradition in my family to do inkprints of our hands and feet on our birthday every year. It was a highlight growing up, so I've continued with my children. We did Mesa's hand and feet prints and of course Rain had to do it too, so here is a snapshot of Mesa and Rain's prints next to each other, done on the same day. Can you tell which print belongs to each girl?

Rain's is on the left, Mesa's on the right

Mesa is tough, caring, and obedient. She is also very strong-willed, loves her daddy, and loves cooking with mom. She always asks to sit on the potty, but as soon as you get her on it, diapered or not, she says she's done. One of these days I'm just going to grit my teeth and potty-train her. I don't think it will take much. She already has a pretty good handle on the concept.

Chillin' with Daddy

She loves singing, Sleeping Beauty, playing Ring-Around the-Rosies, Follow-the-Leader, and Fee-Fi-Fum (Which means riding on mom's back like a cowgirl or dinosaur or something). She likes to say the prayers, read scriptures, and loves her nursery leader, Sis. Chamberlain. She literally will not let Shane leave until she gets there. Mesa loves to eat her food, and when she's done, she'll usually finish Rain's plate as well.

Reading books with Rain

When her feelings are hurt or she just woke up, she wants to be held constantly, which is challenging because I am usually feeding the baby, holding the baby, or cooking/cleaning when those time arise. Also, refer back to her height and weight, and you'll see why I don't hold up very long lugging her around.

Sleeping peacefully.
One of my favorite things to do before I go to bed is look at each girl sleeping.

She just recently decided she doesn't like the door closed at night and insists on "Rock-a-baby" at naptime and bedtime. And she does many things in multiples: she has to have three binkies at bedtime, or hold 2-3 sippies at a time, use a fork and a spoon at the same time etc. We love our little Mesa girl and are so happy she is in our family.

Echo Dawn

2011-03-26T19:52:00.000-07:00

Finally! I didn't want to post pictures of our beautiful little baby if I couldn't attach a name to them. But now that we have the official birth certificate back with a finalized name, I can post these.

I really appreciate my sister jumping in and helping me with these pictures. I've always wanted to have an infant photo shoot, but I didn't really know how to go about it, and I really didn't have the energy to stop and do it. But Shado stopped by, and on the spur of the moment, she threw some things together to bring over. It was just the motivational boost I needed. The more we played around, the more creative we got. We are by no means professionals, but I had such a fun time doing them, and the important thing was that we did it. So thank you Shado, these wouldn't have happened without you.

Echo Dawn Stotlar

Sleeping under Daddy's hat

Watchin' over Baby

One of my favorite props we found to use.

Just peacefully sleeping

Playing around with some photo editing

Oil painting =)

Belated, yes. But Happy Valentines Day!

We were really getting creative at the end. "Little Island Baby"

The rest of these are just different variations of the poses. I couldn't pick favorites.

Sweet dreams, lil' cowgirl!

Already lassoed my heart

This rocking horse was her great-great-Grandma's!

Brrr. It's cold, Mama.

She let us play with her for probably 4 hours and she just slept through everything.

Are you done yet?

ZZZZZZZZZZ

Boots and Saddles! All ready to ride.

Just a little note about the cute boots in these pictures. My good friend Janessa made them for my little girls. She is so crafty and talented. You can hop over to her website and see the other cool things she and her sister make at Huckleberry Hazel or her cake website. Amazing!

Sleeping on Daddy's hat.
We decided the hat band was too pokey to make her sit in the hat, but she would've fit.

Echo just had her 2-Month Well-Baby Checkup and here are her latest stats:

Height: 22-1/4 inches 50th percentile

Weight: 11 lbs 1.5 oz 50th percentile

Head: 15 inches Who knows? =)

Echo has been a very sweet, mellow baby. She is usually very happy, with only a touch of colic now and again. She is very smiley and interactive, and she typically gives me a good 5-7 hour stretch of sleep every night. She already loves her sisters and loves it when they play with her. We love her so much!

Sweet baby girl

2011-02-14T17:35:00.000-07:00

So, I've started this post in my mind a dozen times in the last three(!) weeks. Each version had a different beginning depending on my mood, the latest happenings at home, or something funny that had struck me. But since you can only have ONE beginning to a post, and here it is a whole three weeks since the baby has been born, I decided I had better just sit down and write it. Even though I JUST drew hot water to wash the dishes that have been piling up since yesterday and I can't stand washing dishes in lukewarm water so I'll end up draining it and refilling it, AND even though I was up late and slept half the night in the armchair so I should be napping during this blessed naptime, AND even though I have been dedicating every other awake (and coherent) moment that isn't filled with my children and all that entails to finishing the ranch's taxes so we can get on to filing our own. I'm still going to write this post.

*Disclaimers: Sorry for all those who have heard my story and this is a repeat. And apologies to anyone who doesn't like birth stories, you can skip the rest of this post and catch the next one, oh, probably in another month at my pace. =)

Monday, January 24th started with the regular rush of the day. We got the girls up and ready so Shane could drop them off at my parents while he did chores and we went to my appointment at 9:15 that morning. While he was gone I got ready and wondered anxiously what my appointment would tell me. All week I was secretly hoping that my water would break or at least start leaking, or I would be super dilated at my appointment, or I would start getting painful contractions. . . just SOMETHING that would give me a sign that it was time, that my body was ready, that the baby was ready, and that the end was near. I went a whole week after the doctor stripped my membranes with nothing happening (and no, it didn't hurt to get them stripped, at least in my case).

So, we went to my appointment to see where I was at this week. I was dilated to 5 cm. In my mind, I'm thinking, "What!? Only a 5? Seriously? I need more than that to go on." On the other hand, the nurse was saying, "Wow! That's great! Most women only get to a 2 on the exam table, and you're already halfway there!"

So the question remained: What am I supposed to do? I technically still had 2 more days until my "due date." Should I stick it out the remaining two days, or in the end, is it really not going to make a difference? I'm already a 5 after all. My doctor looked at me and asked, "So, what do you want to do? Do you want to set up an appointment to break your water on Wednesday if you don't go before then?" Gag. Can I really stick it out for two more days? If it was the right thing to do, of course I could.

Then the doctor continued, "Or we can go get you set up right now. I could break your water, and you'll probably have this baby by noon."

The proposition sounded frighteningly appealing. Maybe too appealing. It sounded so selfish to just say yes right then. Instead, I looked pleadingly at Shane for an answer, but his eyes only reflected my own feelings of I-DON'T-KNOW. So I said I would go home and think about it. "But I might be back," I finished lamely.

We went out to the truck each mostly lost in our own thoughts. So, I called my mom. I talked to her the whole way to her house to pick up the girls. I just poured out my jumbled thoughts, worries, etc. I wasn't sure if I wanted to pick up the girls yet because if I decided to go ahead and get my water broken, I didn't want to have to pack up the girls and drop them off again somewhere. It was easier to just leave them where they were, without even letting them know we were done "going to the doctor said". So, we just parked by the road leading to my parents' house while I finished talking to my mom.

She said, "You are the mom. You are the one doing the work, so you can decide. Don't let everyone else's opinions about what you should or shouldn't do sway you. You know your body and what is best. You are the one that has to do all the work, so you get to decide. And you don't have to decide right now. Go eat some lunch or something." It was good advice.

We stopped and talked to my sister. Shane called his mom (a nurse). I tried to call my aunt who had just had her baby. Everyone obviously had their own thoughts and opinions. Finally, we just went home and decided to talk to the one who really mattered. After talking together for a moment, we prayed about our decision. . . We were going to have a baby that day. I remember still having a lot of questions and doubts, but I felt a peace that told me everything would be okay.

Shane cleaned up the kitchen a little for me (I didn't want to leave a messy kitchen) while I finished packing my bag and called my parents to let them know what we had decided. I called my doctor to let him know I was coming in and asked where he wanted me to go. He almost sounded surprised and asked if I was having contractions. I said no, that I was just going to have him break my water, "unless that doesn't work for you." I added. He said, "Oh, well, let me see if they have a room for you."

That kinda shook my resolve for a moment. I had finally decided to do this and then it felt like I was forcing the issue. I waited while he called and sure enough, the (only) birthing room was available if I wanted to go in then.

After a quick stop at Subway (I was starving, okay?) we headed to the hospital. I scarfed down about a 1/3 of the sandwich before I gave the rest to Shane. I was still hungry, but I was trying to avoid any embarrassing moments during delivery. We went to the front desk of the hospital and the nurse asked if she could help us. I was a bit dumbfounded, "Uhh, we're here to have a baby today?" I said with a question in my voice, like can't-you-see-I-have-this-abnormal-bump-on-my-belly-and-I-would-like-it-removed. So then she asked if we had pre-registered. "Pre-registered? Uhh, no?" At this point, I was thinking it was a good thing it wasn't an emergency or I might have had a hard time remaining calm during the whole situation. "See if we have room for you?" "Pre-registered?" I just wanted to have a baby.
Finally, paperwork signed, yet another lovely hospital gown donned, IV inserted, monitors beeping their existence, table with instruments prepped and covered, and cue doctor.

1:00 PM: The doctor breaks my water. Liquid clear. All looks good. He says he will be back to check on me later. I get unhooked from as many machines as possible, braid my hair, and start walking the hall outside my room. It's always amazing the myriad of feelings that hit me almost predictably during labor. Before everything starts, it is a whole lot of anxiety and fear. Once my water it broken, I get a wave of "Let's do this!" and I start walking. With gusto. I am certain I looked like I was ready to run a maternity marathon or something as I made my circles up and down the hall, carting my IV stand with me. Shane gave up trying to keep up with me, so he sat down and called family to let them know I was at the hospital. I texted family while I walked to let them know there was no turning back at this point.

1:30 PM: Contractions start coming. Nothing major, I can still walk through them easily enough. Shane runs back to the house for my insurance card which I had forgotten and to stop at the hardware store. I'm sure whatever it was he needed at the hardware store was something very critical and desparately needed to help me deliver a baby. =) While he was gone, the contractions start to come in waves, one hard one, one or two small ones.

Shane gets back about the time I start slowing down for each contraction. I look at the clock on my cell phone each time a contraction comes--2:05, 2:07, 2:09, 2:11, 2:13, 2:16. I start to lean on the wall through each one and focus on breathing.

2:30ish PM: My nurse comes back to check on me. After a quick check, she says I'm between a 6 and 7. She hooks me back up to the monitors so the doctor can get a good reading on the feed that is monitoring contractions when he comes back. I lay in bed for awhile watching the contractions come and go and reading the numbers on the monitor. 20 is "zero". By the time it hits 30, I can feel the contraction growing. 80 is killer. I start to relax and look for the release at about 56 as the contraction ebbs away.

I'm not sure what to put here: "No, I'm not scowling at my belly," or "I didn't know Shane was taking a picture," or perhaps, "Just watching a contraction." You choose.

After getting some good feed on the chart, I get unhooked again so I can be mobile. Yay! Freedom! I try to stay out of bed and off my back as much as possible during labor. The pain is so much more bearable when I can move at will. My nurse offers a birthing ball, which I had thought about using if I had the chance. It was nice being able to roll through some contractions. I thought it helped sitting on the ball.

3:50 PM: My doctor comes to check me. I'm an 8! I have to go to the bathroom. Again. While I am trying to accomplish this while dodging contractions, I can hear my doctor talking to Shane: "Probably another 45 minutes and we'll have a baby somewhere between 4:30 and 5:00." On the other side of the door, in my mind, I'm thinking, "Please don't put a timeframe on this. Don't tell me I have to do this for 45 more minutes. Just say, 'We'll have a baby soon' and I will keep holding on for one more minute, one more contraction. But don't tell me I have to do this for 45 more minutes!"

I come out of the bathroom and my doctor has been replaced with my nurse. She is actually from my ward and I was so glad she was my nurse from start to finish. I really enjoyed her. She had been warned that I deliver fairly quickly which was why the instrument table was prepped and covered right away, rather than waiting until I was "closer". She also kept telling me that if I "felt ANY vaginal pressure" to call her right away. She reissued the warning as she left the room and said she would be back to check soon. I decided to get back on the birthing ball and try to muddle my way throught the next "45 minutes". I walked from the bathroom door, but only made it the foot of the bed before another contraction hit. I gripped the handrail, and suddenly I felt a moment of panic, as an intense urge to push came and I literally felt the baby coming. In a moment of panic I put my hand between my legs and said, "Oh no! I think she's coming!"

If there was any doubt in my mind before about what the nurse meant when she said "any vaginal pressure," it was gone and it was pretty clear to me, this baby was coming out. Shane jumped up and buzzed the nurses who came rushing in. Like a whirlwind, they started prepping the room and one said, "Call the doctor. Get him down here right now."

I protested and said, "Well, don't bother him. He said it would be another 45 minutes. I don't want to call him for nothing." He had been gone barely 5 minutes, if that.

"Oh no sweetheart. It's better to be safe than sorry," the other nurse replied.

My doctor rushed in the room, smiling. "That was a quick 45 minutes! Let's check and see where you are at. Can you get on the bed?"

That was precisely my intention, but it was slightly challenging trying to get my body to listen when it was so focused on delivering the baby at that point. But we succeeded in getting on the bed.

My efforts were rewarded when the doctor checked me and said,"Yep, you whipped right open. You're there. Can you give me 30 seconds to get dressed?"

"I think so," I replied trying not to push. But the doctor was already trying to get garbed up for delivery. Within a matter of seconds, it was showtime. Off goes the end of the bed, out come the stirrups, and the last of my modesty goes out the door. But I didn't care. I was going to do this. And I was going to do it well. I wasn't going to fall apart between pushes like I did with Mesa. I wasn't going to stop holding my breath and pushing until my 10 seconds was up and I was going to focus. I could feel my contraction coming, so I verbally prepared myself: Chin down to chest, hold my breath and push for 10 seconds. Three times for each contraction.

So, deep breath and push. One contraction and her head crowned. The doctor asked if I wanted to keep pushing, but my contraction was leaving, so I said I would wait for the next one. He said, "I think we can get her here next push." I hung onto that thought. Sure enough, next push and her head was out. The cord was around her neck, so we stopped and cut that before delivering the rest of her.

Time of birth: 4:10 PM. A mere 20 minutes from the time the doctor checked me and said I was an 8, to baby born.

A little bit blue in the face from the cord being wrapped around her neck.

Brand new!

Hospital stats:

7 lbs. 15 oz.

21.5 in

We did it!

We did it! And I say 'we' because Shane was right there with me, holding my hand through each contraction and giving me strength when I needed it most.

I was so worried about so many things that really didn't matter in the end. She was a whole pound lighter than Mesa, even after two extra weeks of incubating. She just really wasn't ready to come out yet. It really reaffirmed to me that the baby and your body know best and that she really needed to wait those extra two weeks.

Rain and Mesa meeting their new sister. What fun! Three girls: ages 3 and under!

The girls came to say hello (we found out later they weren't supposed to come to the hospital because of RSV season, but oh well).

Rain taking care of the baby.

Rain has quickly adopted the "mother" role and says she needs to take care of her. She loves to give her kisses and rub the hair on her head. She likes to hold her and always watches in case her binky falls out so she can put it back in her mouth.

Mesa thought she was interesting at first, but is struggling with relinquishing her "baby of the family" role. If I am holding the baby, she won't let me touch her. She will be crying and won't let me give her a hug until I "mose baby" (move baby). She also asks me to "care" (carry) her more these days. I hope we can adjust soon.

Meeting Paca and PacaMa - my parents.

And alas, we still have not named her. Shane could have named her at the hospital, but I am still having an internal struggle with feeling right about her name. She is so sweet and mellow. I have lots of feelings bottled up inside about her, but nothing that can translate into a name yet.

Getting bundled up and ready to go home!

Stay tuned: Up next--Photoshoot!

This had better be my last pregnancy update for this baby . . .

2011-01-18T19:35:00.001-07:00

Next I hope to post actual pictures of this baby and not another frustrating appointment recap. Last week I was a 4, and this week, I'm a . . . "stretchy" 4. Wow, that's exciting. Then comes the decision, do I just leave things alone or do I have the doctor strip my membranes? The way he put it was "75% of women who have their membranes strip have the baby within 75 hours. The other 1/4 don't." So, if your body is ready, it encourages it, but if it's not ready, it really doesn't make a difference. Still, I don't like interfering.

My first two babies came two weeks early and it was perfect. I'm almost 39 weeks (tomorrow) and every day makes me more restless and anxious. What if this baby is even bigger than the last one (8lbs 13oz)? What if I can't do it naturally again? Should I have stripped my membranes, or just waited? What if I can't do three children at all? Shane thinks the baby hasn't come yet because I am mentally keeping it in, because I am afraid of having another baby. It's partially true . . . who really wants to volunteer for labor and delivery pain, and let's face it, it's not easy having a little tiny baby to care for. I'm not saying it isn't worth it, because it totally is, but it's a lot of time, patience, and sacrifice. I feel pretty accomplished when I can get three square meals on the table, a load of laundry done, and a path through the toys cleared in one day. But that doesn't get you "ahead" anywhere. I'm barely holding back the tide and I'm afraid once the baby comes, I'm going to get pummeled.

Shane has hopes that since this pregnancy is so different, that perhaps it's a boy because "boys have to grow more." I think he is grasping at straws and is afraid to be even more outnumbered.

I am excited for the girls to have another sister to love and play with. Rain is making such progress in being the Big Sister and watching out for Mesa. She has made some super big steps in the past couple months: Giving up her binky and Potty training. She hasn't had an accident during the day for awhile now and she can go some nights and stay dry. She insists on wearing her panties to bed under her "special diaper" (Pull-up) so she can still be a big girl. Sometimes I worry that she holds it too long. She can go once in the morning when she wakes up, and then not go again for hours---like past breakfast, past lunch, through a 2-hour nap, and start playing again after her nap, before I MAKE her sit down and just "see" if her body has to go. She's like a camel. Maybe it seems like such a stark difference to me because I am constantly going and it is a miracle her body can last that long. Sometimes it's hard to let her be independent and do it all by herself. I cringe and hold my breath when she has to empty her potty chair by herself and I hope she gets it all in the toilet. But she does admirably and promptly asks if she can have a "pootsie roll" (tootsie roll) for going potty.

Mesa also wants to be a big girl like Rain and has to sit on the potty too. She will tell me "poo-poo" and "potty" and won't give it up until she sits on the toilet for 1.5 seconds (fully dressed or stark naked) and then she is done. She wants down and runs off to play. Oh, how I love my two little girls. One more is just going to add to the adventure.

Mesa loves to give Rain a hug before she goes "nigh-night"

Lest anyone think that Shane doesn't love his girls, here is a video to attest otherwise. It's long and the sound and motion aren't quite matching up (I can't tell if it's because my computer is super slow or if it has something to do with the fact that Shane rolled a horse down the mountain with MY camera in the saddle bags. Either way, my video clips are "special") but I ask you, how many dads are man enough to dance to Barbie with his girls?

Mesa is a bit of a Daddy's girl, definitely more so than Rain. Mesa insists on a kiss when daddy leaves for work, when I scold her she calls for Daddy, and sometimes only Daddy can get her more milk or blow on her food. On the other hand, Rain is the same way for me. If she wakes up crying and I've already had a hard night and I send Shane in to help her, she starts screaming, "No, I need mommy to do it."

The girls love to be cowboys like Daddy

I warned the receptionists at the clinic that I might not be a happy camper if I have to come in next Monday for my scheduled checkup. We were all counting on cancelling the appointment I had yesterday. They said not to worry and that they would have some chocolate on hand to console me. I guess I can look forward to that, right?

Disappointing

2011-01-11T13:11:00.001-07:00

I had such high hopes for my appointment yesterday. I guess that should be a lesson to me: Never count on things going as you plan them.

Yesterday morning I was dilated to 4 cm. More progress from last week, yes, but disappointing at the same time. Last baby, I was a 7 at this point, so I went ahead and had the doctor break my water for Mesa. But here I sit, water intact, dilated to a 4, Braxton-Hicks contractions coming almost constantly, and still nothing solid to go on.

So, I didn't have him strip my membranes. I thought my body obviously needed some more time, so I'll sit it out some more. I have another appointment next Monday. If I make it that long, I will have surpassed my other two pregnancies in length. Not a pleasant thought. The doctor doesn't think I'll make it that long, but I am trying not to get my hopes up and be disappointed again.

I also got an ultrasound yesterday because when the doctor checked me, he was afraid he couldn't feel the head in the right position as it had been at all my previous checkups. He thought it was the neck, but the ultrasound revealed a VERY healthy, getting VERY chubby, baby, head down, but with no intention of leaving her watery home soon.

Not the best shot, but already stubborn!

Quick update

2011-01-07T14:50:00.000-07:00

So I didn't post my last appointment's progression, so this is just a quick note about it. On Monday, I went ahead and had the doctor check me again, just so I had something to hang onto as far as "progress." I had dilated to 3cm and I suspect I am even more now. I'm 37 weeks and 2 days and would love to be done any day now. I guess I've started counting on coming 2 weeks early every time. Bless all you other ladies that last to 40 weeks and beyond. I'm ready to be done. My babies are big enough as it is at two weeks early. I don't need them hanging out and packing on the pounds.

I have an appointment on Monday again and I am anxious to see where I am at that point. I guess once I know for sure if my body is close to being ready, I can make a better decision as to having the doctor strip my membranes or not. I really feel that my body knows best when to have the baby and I don't want to interfere and make delivery any harder than it needs to be.

I picked up a nice head cold over the last couple days. Exciting! Hope I can beat that before D-day comes because that just complicates everything. I started taking the herbal supplement T-5W. I am curious to see if it holds up to everyone's high recommendations. Also, I washed our bedding and put on BRAND NEW sheets. Maybe that will encourage my water to break. Haha. And maybe I should go pack that hospital bag . . .

Pregnancy update

2010-12-29T16:30:00.000-07:00

I decided it was about time to document the fact that I'm pregnant.

I wasn't as good as some in taking weekly photos to track my progress. But life goes on.

Here's one when I was a little past my halfway mark.

22-1/2 weeks

Here's 35 weeks. Somehow I've got to get my photographer to not take pictures where the shadow outlines me and makes me look twice as large as I already feel. This is three days before Christmas. I think the holiday to-do lists on top of being pregnant is wearing me out.

35 weeks

I had a check up on Monday, followed up with the Group B Strep test. Hooray! The doctor checked me and said that I was almost dilated to a 2. Hip hip hooray! Looks like this baby will come early like my first two. Three cheers for that because I don't know how much longer of this I can take.

November Recap

2010-12-28T17:38:00.003-07:00

It seems the slower I move these days, the faster things overwhelm me. Now the question is how to recap the last two and a half months without overloading.

Rain helping Mesa finish her breakfast

Mesa had her 18-month checkup on November 5th. Her stats are as follows:

Weight: 32 lbs (98th percentile)

Height: 34" (99th percentile)

Overall, Mesa is just Big 'N' Tall (in a good way)

They measured/weighed Rain while we were there because she didn't want to be left out. I thought it was interesting to note that Rain weighed 38lbs--only 6 lbs more than Mesa. Mesa is already wearing Rain's socks and most of her smaller-end clothes. I guess that's what sisters are for, right? Wardrobe swapping at such a tender age. Rain does have some height on Mesa, though, so lengthwise, swapping clothes is a challenge in the height department.

Mesa had one shot and didn't even cry. Her daddy should be proud. After we left the exam room, both my girls went to the candy drawer. How do they always know where that is? Apparently their candy-homing devices are as well-tuned as mine. =)

The following Monday, November 8th, I went in for surgery on my wrist. Super exciting stuff for anybody's To-Do list, lemme tell ya. After getting to the surgery center, and straightening out some needed changes, they prepped me for surgery. After stripping down to my socks and underwear, I donned a lovely hospital gown and laid on the bed. Immediately the nurse put in not one, but two IV's, one for each hand. YAY!!! --since I love needles and all.

Since I'm pregnant, they wanted to check the baby's vitals before and after surgery, so they had to call in a "special" nurse. And then I got to wait . . . and wait, and watch as patients were wheeled in and out for colonoscopies and prothetics. I was STARVING. I had been fasting since midnight the night before, except for the small glass of apple juice I had to beg for them to allow me to drink that morning at 6AM. And what show do they have on the TV in the patient prep room but a cooking channel. Cruel irony, I'd say.

Disclaimer: Don't read further if surgery stuff makes you squeamish.

After waiting for over an hour, they came to wheel me away, leaving Shane behind. Due to the pregnancy, they didn't want to do a general anesthesia, and nor did I. They started a local anesthesia and antibiotic. So in order to the local, they put a tournequet on my arm midway above my elbow. Not only do I detest needles and shots (which are technically quick and relatively painless--in and out), I abhor IV's where they stay in your flesh and twist and tweak with movement. I hate that feeling. I usually hold my hands still or move like a robot to avoid feeling the metal object impaled in my hands moving around. But in order to get the blood out of my left arm, one attendant had me make a fist with my left hand, and then he put his hand over my fist (and IV) and squeezed. Then they took one of those wide surgical stretchy bands and starting with my clenched fist, wrapped it around and around all the way up my arm, choking all the blood out of my arm. I started to get that lovely feeling where you've slept on your arm wrong and it's asleep, but you start getting those painful tingly jabs as it wakes up. However, I could still feel them messing around with my hand as they painted it with a beautiful orange iodine once the rubber band was removed. I kept wiggling my fingers to let them know that I could still feel and control my hand. I didn't want them getting too anxious about cutting before it was all the way numb. Unfortunately I couldn't see the surgey since they had a drape over the rest of me, as if I was having a C-section or something.

Then they started cutting. There were a couple interns there and I could hear them talking and observing the procedure. "Oh, wow, so is that bone?" Super consoling, believe me. My doctor was explaining this and that, which was interesting to me. I wish I could have seen what he was pointing at as he spoke. "See, here is where a cortisone shot should be given in the tendon. Now you can see where they missed the tendon by 1 millimeter and it caused all this fat atrophy here. They were close, but they still missed it."

The only angle I could get that the picture turned out clearly.

More straight-on, but blurry. Two pathetic stitches and some bruising. Boo!

The procedure is called a DeQuervain's Release where they slice along the tendon sheath, opening it up, allowing the inflamed tendon inside more room to move. They also ground off some bone spurs built up around that area. Then two stiches and I was done. I think the whole thing took 10 minutes or less. Feeling was starting to come back in my arm, but my control was still considerably MIA. As an assistant was bandaging me, I was trying to help by lifting my arm this way and that way as he wrapped it. Once, I tried to straighten my arm and it shot out uncontrollably. It's a good thing I didn't knock the assistant out. I think it would have really hurt my wrist. He laughed and told me to be careful because my arm was my enemy right now, and to not knock myself in the face with it. They bandanged me up in a full-arm wrap and wheeled me away. After meeting up with Shane at the patient-receiving room, they gave me some juice and had me sign lots of paperwork with things such as "Don't operate a vehicle or machinery" and "Don't sign any legal papers". Little did I know that following lunch (because I was still starving) I would spend three hours on a car lot, trade in the ranch truck for a different one, and then drive the truck home from my parents after picking up the girls. So much for following doctor's orders.

After making arrangements for Shane to be home for a least a week to help me out, of the following five days, he spent three days in St. George, and one day looking for some cows that got out.

I couldn't wash dishes, change a diaper, tie my shoes, fasten my bra, fix my hair, or fold clothes, although I did manage to peel three potatoes with one hand, and drive my car (a stickshift) with one hand.

The first day home, I burned my good arm trying to take a casserole out of the oven one-handed, and within minutes, while I was running my arm under cold water, the girls had each bloodied some part of their anatomy. The whole scenario was rather comical.

And it would only be fitting that Shane be gone during this whole ordeal AND when Rain was struck with a two-week string of diarrhea, which put a serious kink in potty-training progress and created an interesting situation where I had to clean up an accident which was all over Rain, the potty chair, her clothes, and the cream-colored carpet. Several times. One-handed. Perfect.

But life rolls on and I am getting more and more movement back and less pain. I believe they left part of a stitch in and so I am waiting for that to fester and come out.

Halloween recap: Rain was a princess

Rain was a princess

Mesa was "a cowgirl in her long-johns and boots" or in other words, Mom-didn't-have-a-costume-for-me-but-this-outfit-kept-me-warm.

You can also see our improvisation for halloween candy bags. They actually worked quite well.

Can you say 'honey'?

2010-10-05T11:55:00.001-07:00

How can you resist a face like this? Rain loves to eat candies that turn her tongue colors so she can look in the mirror at her brightly-colored mouth.

Recently Rain had a pretty serious urinary tract infection (UTI). I was at a loss at how to help her. We ended up in the hospital on a Saturday morning, trying to get a urine sample from an un-potty-trained-youngster. She got a shot in her leg and a round of antibiotics. But for days we had alarmingly bloody urine in her diapers and VERY unhappy little girl. Everytime it started to burn she would say she wanted a band-aid on it. I honestly wish it was that simple. I never want to do that again.

One day I was napping after church when Rain needed help getting a shirt on. After I helped her, she brought in her tricycle and said she needed help fixing it. I wasn't sure what she needed fixed, and I wasn't ready to get up from my nap, so I asked her if Daddy could fix it. To this she responded, "Can you say honey?" This seemed an odd response and so I rephrased my comment and told her to take her tricycle to daddy and daddy could make it work. Again she said, "Can you say honey?" I thought I was hearing her wrong until it clicked. When I want Shane's help with something, I say, "Honey, can you . . . ?" In essence, she had picked up that Honey=Help. So she was asking me to call Daddy to help us. Now her comment made sense: "Can you say "Honey"?

The other night Rain wanted me to lie down with her after her stories. Next thing I knew it was 10:30, I was asleep on Rain's bed, with every one of her stuffed animals next to me and Rain was playing happily in her room. I am forever finding dolls and animals tucked into my bed such as the picture below. I'm glad they are developing some motherly instincts.

The girls are having a picnic with a friend. Here they are getting ready to say the blessing on the food. It was too cute not to snap a picture.

Until next time!

Some old quotes

2010-09-16T21:36:00.000-07:00

April Quote board

Whenever we are driving, particularly as we are going down a hill, Rain will say, "Look at you, Simba!"
I'm not sure what connection she has made mentally to always say that, but there you have it.

Rain runs into the house with a blade of grass.
Rain: "Taste a grass?"
Mom: Yes, you can taste the grass. What does it taste like?
Rain: Taste, . . . like candy!

Four Years

2010-08-12T16:54:00.001-07:00

It's our 4th wedding anniversary today. Shane's been gone again this week. He's up on 50 Mile Mountain checking the cows. But if nothing goes wrong, he should be back by tonight. That means I should probably cook a real dinner tonight. I've spent the day taking care of the girls, petsitting two dogs, mending yet another pair of pants for Shane, and trying not to scratch the two dozen mosquito bites I sustained (on my face and neck) while taking a trail ride out for Shane the other night while he was gone.

Four years. It seems so long and so short at the same time. I'd venture to say this has been our most challenging year so far. But we're still here and we still love each other, so I'd say we are doing alright.

Shane has put in many long, hard, hot hours providing for us and I really appreciate how hard he works. It makes me want to work harder for him, too.

I would love to sprinkle this long post with wedding pictures but I can't seem to find them since most of our belongings have been boxed up since before our wedding day. This causes me no small amount of consternation--both the fact that I have lost my wedding pictures and that I have lived in my home for a year now and still have a garage full of boxes to sort through.

My next choice would be pictures of us since we got married. But alas, I haven't really found any of us together. I am not a big fan of being in front of the camera and I am usually the one taking the pictures, so these are also a poor substitute.

Sooo, the next obvious choice is to post pictures of the products of our marriage, since those are typically plentiful and hard to choose only a few.

Off to conquer the world!

Sharing popsicles with Dad

Tickle TIME!

After watching Dad cut potatoes for Dutch Oven Potatoes, Mesa is certain she is up to the task.

"Dad, you can't fool me. I know this isn't the real thing."

How did I get down here?

I know I JUST had a bath, but I STILL want to play outside.

Maybe it's time we get her a bigger bed, eh?

Playing in the water fountains at the park.

Entertaining ourselves while Dad works hard.

Can't you tell we are contributing to the project?

Illegal fireworks when we have two cops for neighbors.

Mesa: "Where's mine?"

Surprise! I found some of the whole family.

Riding together in the 4th of July Parade.

Now that it has taken ALL of naptime to get all the pictures uploaded and the right size (maybe this is why I'm horrible at blogging regularly), I shall post this and try to make a presentable anniversary dinner. Wish me luck.

Oh where, oh where, has the month of May gone . . .

2010-06-04T22:15:00.001-07:00

Wow, is it really June? My goal was to post at least one more time before the month of May was up. Looks like that didn't happen. But that doesn't mean I didn't do anything. Life has been pretty adventurous. I have sooo many projects to do, but it seems like I am doing projects for everyone else. Then, by the end of the day, I am so exhausted, that finally getting to MY projects has lost its appeal to my pillow.

Shane has been gone this whole week rounding up cows and moving them up on the mountain. I've had a sore throat, and Mesa has been feverish and goobery the last couple days. In the mornings, her eyes are glued shut, and I have to soak them to get them open. Poor baby.

But in spite of all that, today was a good day. Today, we made it to an appointment--only ten minutes late. Afterwards, we went to the park. Wrong day to go to the park. It was a boy's youth baseball tournament and there were no less than a hundred little boys and their families swinging bats and throwing balls around. But my girls could care less, except that we had to wait awhile for the swings to open up, and another little girl kept stealing Rain's sippy cup. We went home to lunch, naps, books, and enjoying a nice summer evening.

But thankfully, Shane gets home tomorrow sometime and I might get a little break. Now, along the lines of gardens, since I've been noticing a lot of posts about gardening and yard work. Let's see... Our garden consists of about 5 potato plants that had sprouted in my pantry and Shane put in the ground. I won't post a picture of it because you probably can't see the plants behind all the foxtails. Then comes the lawn. Hmmm. I don't own a mower that works, so I have to borrow the neighbor's mower ALL the time. Because I have been very busy, I haven't mowed it for awhile. It looks horrid, and yet I have chosen to delay even longer, to let it go to seed so that perhaps it might fill in all the patches of dirt that are constant reminders that I have dogs who love to dig.

But life is still good. I might even get another post in this month.

California Trip – Part I: The Ocean

2010-05-04T00:46:00.001-07:00

I'm catching up on some of my oldest, previously-started-but-never-finished blog posts. Beware they are very old. Forget about being slow to post your Easter blog--just wait until I post our Christmas one. Haha. Oh well. So, here we go. Also, be forewarned, this one is mostly a picture narrative.

Shane’s youngest brother, Joseph, graduated from the Marines the week before Christmas and he treated us all to a trip to balmy California for his graduation. While the rest of the family went to the early morning festivities on base, the four of us sneaked away to give Rain her first ocean experience. I’d say it was a hit.

(Notice she was dressed cute for the day. You'll appreciate the fact as the narrative unfolds)

At first we weren’t sure about all that water, even though Dad was there.

So Mom rolled up her pants and tried her hand at negotiation.

(I'm not sure why I bothered. My pants were soaked the rest of the day anyway.)

Nice and slow

Look at all that water!

The weather was nice, but the water was cold. It was December, after all.

She decided she would get down for awhile

"Aahhhh, here comes the water!"

Rain tried to keep her balance as the water swirled around her feet.

I’m not sure what I was explaining, but by Rain’s expression, it must have been pretty grim.

Her pants were so heavy with water, we finally just stripped down to the diaper.

Chasing waves was her favorite part!

Preparing for the next wave. Bring it on!

Going solo . . .dun, dun, dun!

Good thing mom was there for backup.

Mesa slept in her carseat the whole time we were there, which wasn't super long, but long enough for Rain to decide that she loved the ocean and DID NOT want to leave. By the end of the excursion she had lost all fear of the water, and would run straight into the path of the oncoming waves. My fear level heightened considerably as I tried to make her retreat before she was bowled over and lost under the rolling tide.

When it really WAS time to leave, we had to pick Rain up and carry her, kicking and screaming, back to the car. Of course, then she had to stand by the car while I tried to clean the sand off her with wet wipes. Note to self: Next time I head to the ocean, be prepared to douse everything with jugs of water in an attempt to banish all the sand. I'm thinking it's an impossible feat without a good ol' bath/shower.

But all in all, it was fun and I think Rain was secretly happy, she just was too tired to tell us through the tears at the end.

(Apologies for the bounciness in filming)

(To be continued . . . )

Randomness

2010-04-20T07:01:00.002-07:00

This post is a compilation of little snippets of everyday memories I wanted to record. And the pictures don't necessarily correspond with anything, they are also random photos.

Going out the door, or if she is done “talking,” aka “listening” to me, Rain will say, “Okay, bye!” and walk away.

(I forgot to buckle the high chair seat belt and Mesa started falling out the bottom. It was worse, but I adjusted her before I took the picture for safety's sake.)

If I get after Rain for something, she cries and runs to me saying “scaredy.” I’m not sure where she learned this word, but she uses it frequently. I promise I’m not abusing my children. If it helps, whenever the dogs bark, she will run to me saying “scaredy.” And oddly enough, she always brings me string and wants to be "tied up". Don't ask me where she is getting that one.

Lately, we have watched Tinkerbell, almost every night, in 8 separate 10-minute clips from YouTube. When one segment stops, she says “Uh-oh, uh-oh, drop it” (Stopped) in a traumatized voice, and I have to go to the computer to load the next segment. We have really been working on learning patience.

(One of the girls' favorite pastimes:

"Let's See How Fast We Can Empty the Dresser Before Mom Finds Us")

Rain is getting quite vocal, especially when singing. It’s quite common for her to sing for two hours in her bed during naptime before finally falling asleep. Some favorite lines are:

“Everbuddy, everybuddy, everbuddy wants to be a CAT!”
“Wet’s go fwy a kite! Up to the highest hite. Wet’s go fwy a kite!”
Ol’ Mcdonald had a farm, ee-ii-ee-ii-oooooooooo!”
“I often go walking, in meadows of clover, . . .”
“Hakuna, matata”
“Hey-ya, hey-ya . . .” the drum song from Pocahontas
Colors of the wind
Jingle Bells
Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer
If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands
"Tew everbuddy I'm wah, wah, way" (Tell Everybody I'm On My Way from Brother Bear)
"The wheels on the bus go roun' and roun', doors go opie an shut, opie an shut, etc"

If you haven't noticed, we sing a lot. I use it to distract from unpleasant situations such as diaper changes, or to pass the time in the car when sitting in the car seat for one more milisecond has become insurmountable.

Rain goes to sleep with the Primary Children Songs on cd. I think the Nursery leaders were a little surprised when she could sing all the words to the songs they sang.

She also has a few medley/combo songs where she will start singing one song, and end with another. Example: “Tinkerbell, tinkerbell . . . jingle all the way”

One afternoon, I was trying to catch a few winks, so I laid down on the floor while Rain was watching Pocahontas. How long I dozed, I’m not sure, but I awoke to Rain screaming hysterically, and sobbing, “Kokoum, No, Kokoum.” Needless to say, this is a part I always have to fast-forward through now.
When watching movies where there is trauma such as when Nala is chasing Pumba in The Lion King, Rain starts yelling, “Be nice! Be nice! BE NICE!!!”

(Rain loves to help with anything that Mom is doing)

When Rain wants to wear her shoes outside, she will say “Get the boots on?” But when she doesn’t want to wear shoes, she will say “Outside, toes in da grass?”
"Lidol"- mix between little and lidon, I think. It means “lid on.” When I get her a sippy cup she’ll say: “Where’s the lid-o? OH, der it is!"

(Rain plays for hours with the squirt bottle)

She also says Thank YOU! and then You're Welcome immediately afterwards. It has lightened my load considerably. =)
Rain, watching a jet leave a trail in the sky: “Look, he’s coloring . . . Make an elephant?” (One of the Baby Einstein movies has an airplane that flies in the sky and draws animals with the jet trail).
At bedtime, Rain wants the door closed, and the light OFF so it’s all dark. Thus, during naptime when I can’t turn off the lights to make it dark AND I have yet to put up her curtains, she has decided the light is “broken”. I leave it at that.
We have two new little baby cousins in the family and Rain loves to hold them.

(Rain has a zoo of animals that have to sleep with her every night. They have their very own pillow.)

(Sometimes she even opts for the baby cradle so the animals have more room)

We went to a cousin’s missionary homecoming in Las Vegas. We only made it to St. George before we had to stop and get Rain out so she could throw up. We BARELY made it before it was too late. She only lasts an hour in a car before she starts throwing up. I hope this car sickness stage doesn’t last long. Rain was awake the whole drive there. Fifteen minutes after arriving for dinner, she announced she was ready to go home and go “nigh-nigh.”

On the way home, Mesa was done being in her car seat and was inconsolable. As she lay there fussing, Rain looked over at her, stating matter-of-factly, “Mesa needs to go “nigh-nigh.”

We had to make another lay-over in St. George on the way back so Rain could get some fresh air and Mesa could have some time out of her car seat, relieving our poor ears. There truly is NO PLACE LIKE HOME!

(I've given up trying to keep Mesa out of the mud)

(So we get lots of baths, and of course, Rain wants to join in the fun.

Is there anything cuter than two girls in a sink full of bubbles?)

When I Grow Up, I'm Gonna Be . . . A Beautician

2010-04-01T00:20:00.001-07:00

Valentines Day dawned like any other year, except this year it landed on Sunday, so it was a mad rush to get to church on time, so we weren't banished to the hard chairs in the back of the chapel. The weekend had been busy, so trying to stay awake at our early meetings, even with two wiggly girls, was a challenge. But we survived. After unloading the girls at home, I laid on my bed for a few minutes, thinking about the week ahead. Shane came in and we talked a little before Rain hopped on the bed, not wanting to be left out. She was pretending to "go nigh-nigh" by mom. But she quickly grew tired of that and soon found a bag of hair accessories that she began putting in my hair. Her favorites were the claw clips, which she was learning to open and latch onto things--like my hair. It was at this point I slipped into precious dreamland. Swirling in and out of my dreamy frame of mind was the feeling of the claw clips tickling my scalp as Rain put them in and out of my hair.

Then suddenly, my mind started registering a slightly different, more horrifying feeling--and accompanying sound--of scissors cutting hair. It took me a little longer to register that it wasn't the clips anymore. When I heard that sickening sound of cutting hair, I flew off the bed so fast, saying "No, No, No, NO, OH NOOOO!" as I ran to the bathroom mirror to survey the damage that I KNEW I would find. Clumps of hair started combing out with my fingers.

Of course, Rain started crying. I didn't want to make her feel worse, so I didn't cry. It was a good thing I had already chopped a foot off my hair recently so I was mentally prepared to cope with something like this. My hair had been in a clip, so of course she didn't cut at the bottom where it would be easy to disguise; she cut on the very top, front of my head, too far back to even make bangs.

Luckily, she is still learning to manuever scissors, so her bites of hair weren't really big. And she cut them at slightly different lengths, so I am not dealing with as big of blunt cut areas as it could have been.

It was a little difficult to capture the effect because the scissors hacks were so haphazard that the longer hair was getting in the way of sorting it out for pictures. I guess it does help disguise it that way. This is only one clump that I was able so salvage enough for a picture.

It has been a little bit of a pain dealing with the short chunks as they grow out-especially when the wind blows. Those areas are also more prone to curl being as short as they are.

But my new hairstyle has probably been tried in some professional salon at one point or another, so if anyone needs a new modern haircut, I have an excellent recommendation-- and the price isn't too shabby either. It's FREE!

These Days

2010-03-12T10:35:00.001-07:00

I'm having a hard time getting new entries posted. Not because I don't have anything to say, but because I feel like if I can't write the "perfect" post about something, and usually in about a 5-10 minute timeframe, I don't write it. Throughout the day, I see things happening around me, or I have thoughts, and I think, "That would make a good blog entry" and then I go about my merry way and never even write it.

So, I've have to rethink my purpose in having a blog, and that was to help me cherish each day with my girls--on good days, yes, but more especially on crazy days, trying days, slow days, sick days, and BLACK days. Black days are the ones that I wish I could just erase from my calendar. They are usually days when I lose my temper, or I am so wrapped up in the latest "emergency" that I neglect to give the attention to my girls that they deserve, or I am overwhelmed and I run around all day trying to catch up from the day before, and by the time I get to the part where I get dressed for the day, it is time for bed--and usually later than I wanted to go to bed in the first place, which bodes evil for the next day as well. But I guess I have black days, partially because I create them for myself by going to bed late, or not planning ahead well enough, but also because I am human and they are part of this earthly experience. Every time they come around, I get to practice being patient, being humble, being charitable, and enduring them WELL.

The other quandary I have with blogging, is finding the balance between recording "real life" and recording what I want to remember in life. If I dwell on the black days, then I tend to have more of them, but if I only blog the positive things, then I feel like I am painting an insincere picture of my life. Is it fair to only paint pictures about the positive days on my blog, or will doing so, actually help me have more positive days? So my question is, how do I stay postive, but stay "real life"? Or am I totally missing the picture altogether? Is there something wrong with me?

So, aside from my own personal struggles, the girls are growing quickly and I love them.

Rain is forever finding little things and poking them places. I should have taken pictures, but whenever I go to use my sewing machine, I find pins poked in all the little holes on the machine, or foil wrappers shoved around the knobs, or jingle bells in the bobbin compartment. She also sprinkled the pins all over the carpet. This might have been okay if they were the decent kind of straight pin with the bright yellow head or something. However, those are still packed somewhere, so I've been using a few cheap, flat-headed, really short pins that I dug out here and there so I could do some sewing. It's a miracle we haven't embedded one in anyone's foot yet.

She also has a certain fascination with "pokies". This includes pins, stitch-pickers, screws, forks, and a myriad of other items that I can't seem to recall at the moment. It you don't believe me, I will issue a warning that you should check anything you are eating at my house before you eat it. See pictures below for a better expanation.

Here is Rain eating an innocent cluster of grapes.

Here is what I found when she was "FINISHED"

Need a closer look?

YUMMY!

Need a little iron in your diet?

Mesa is getting so grown up, too. Since I was on a blogging hiatus and didn't post results from Mesa's last Well-Baby checkup, which was a month and a half ago--ack!--here they are:

Head Circumference: 18"

Length: 30-3/4" ---97th percentile

Weight: 22.2 lbs ---95th percentile

She's been horribly sick for a week now, and doesn't really appear to be improving, even after a round of antibiotics. Not good. I have my suspicions that it might be RSV since there have been some cases popping up. But she has been amazingly good-spirited and I am thankful for that.

(Stealing Rain's sippy and feeling pleased about it.)

Poor sick baby, but still has a smile for Mom.

But I guess that will have to do for now because it is WAAAYY past breakfast and I'm headed into another "already-behind-but-I'm-okay-with-it" kind of day. Thanks for bearing with me through my long and comma-punctuated sentences.

Where Does the Time Go?

2010-01-31T04:21:00.000-07:00

As I scroll through days and days of pictures on my computer that are piling up since the last time I posted, I get overwhelmed and think that there will never be enough time to post everything that has happened since then. So I think, that's okay, just start from now on and do better. But I can't help but think of all the memories we had that I didn't record. So, I've decided to just do my best to post a couple smorgasbord entries that will probably only haphazardly cover our crazy life right now. But for now, enjoy a couple of random pictures.

Skye's mini dachshund puppies were a big hit at our house.

Puppy Love!

Okay, maybe a little TOO much love.

Puppies, or not, we have LOVED having a good winter.

Our attempts at a snowman.

I had to go to the driveway and dig under the snow for enough rocks to make a face. Unfortunately, I didn't pack the snow hard enough and it was decapitated within an hour.

Rain kept saying, "Snowman, broken," and "Mommy, six it." (Fix it)

I bundled Mesa up and plopped her in the walker. I slipped some of Rain's old boots on to keep her toes a little warmer. I also shoved the broom under the walker, in an attempt to keep her from rolling off the sidewalk ledge and tipping over into the snow.

She was a happy camper and was just excited to be outside and amid the excitement.

How can you NOT smile at this grin?

Blogging? What's blogging?

2009-12-30T14:42:00.001-07:00

I know I have been sorely vacant from the blogging world, but forgive me. I have much to catch up on and I have several partially completed posts, but "our" internet is on the fritz--or should I say our neighbor's wireless signal isn't reaching us as strongly as it was in the past. But once I post all these, you better read fast to keep up with me. Ha ha!

Our Christmas Jar

2009-12-10T14:32:00.025-07:00

The evening started out like any other night--diaper changes, last drinks, chasing a half-dressed Rain around the house, trying to complete her night ensemble. Then after herding her to her room, it was tickle time and then prayers. We were just kneeling down when the dogs started barking and Shane went to see what had set them to barking. It's not unusual for that time of night as there is the occasional neighbor walking a dog, or a teenager that roars around our corner that gets the dogs excited. Shane went to tell them to be quiet while I finished saying prayers with Rain.

When Shane got back, he had a silly grin on his face. He handed me a book, wrapped in gold ribbon. I had seen the book before, and had even wanted to read it, but hadn't quite ever run into it again to do so. It was called Christmas Jars by Jason F. Wright. I thought that was a nice gift and asked who had left it. Then I realized that Shane still had his hand behind his back. Sure, I thought, keep the cookies to yourself, and give me the book. Probably a fair trade at our house.

Then, he pulled out from behind him a huge glass jar filled to the brim with silver coins and green bills. Whoa, I thought. That's a lot of money. Most of the silver coins were quarters. I asked again who had left it. Shane said some teenager that he had never seen before had given it to him. Shane wanted to give it back to him, but the kid said that somebody else had asked him to deliver it to us. Truly anonymous.

At first I thought it was my mom because the handwriting was so familiar, but after a little sleuthing, and flat-out asking, I found out it wasn't her. So, somewhere, out there, is a family that I owe a heartfelt --

THANK YOU!

The questions tumbled around in my mind that night. Who? Why? How can I repay . . . someone for this gift? After the girls were in bed, I sat on the couch in the silence staring at the jar and the book. Then I started reading. I read the entire book right then, even though the dishes weren't done and the toys weren't picked up yet. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Shane, who had fallen asleep on the floor amid the day's tornado of toys, woke to my sniffling and soggy shirt cuffs.

This year has been one of faith and prayers. It's one of the reasons that Mesa's middle name is Faith. Shane hasn't had actual employment since May and every month we have seen many miracles that have helped us get through to see the next one.

It's also been a challenge to be on the receiving end of service, gifts, and help. But there is also a lesson to be learned in receiving and it brings good growth. Even if we don't have a lot right now, I want to help others where I can, and when we are more on our feet, I want to help even more. I am thankful for a gospel that teaches us to look out for one another. We shouldn't tear each other down, or be spiteful, if someone else succeeds. It may be that success that will help you out in your own low spot at some point. And when you do succeed, you can help others. We are all in this journey together and I hope I can be better at giving someone a hand when they need a little lift. I know I need it now and again.

Tangled Forest

2009-12-03T18:13:00.029-07:00

The other day we went for a spontaneous family hot dog roast

while the uncles worked on building a corral.

Rain absolutely adores her cousin, River.

They immediately found each other.

Hand in hand, they set off on a marvelous adventure
through the tangled forest to find the sticky swamp.

HUP, two, three, four!

First, they had to conquer the tangled forest.

"Wriver! Whey yare you?"

"Over here!"

Finally, success!

Next, it was the Canyon-With-Only-One-Way-Out, which was UP!

And UP we went,
clamoring, sliding, clinging, grabbing, dragging, and carrying.

Rain turned out to be quite the hiker and didn't want much help
from the rest of us. She is Little Miss Independent these days.

We grown-ups were invited merely for the fact that

they needed a little help traversing the area.

The girls had fun climbing up the sandbanks and sliding back down.

River was a very constructive mentor for Rain

The two younger cousins enjoyed the warmth of a perfect fall outing.

Believe me, it's a challenge to hold a little one on your hip, navigate a camera and take semi-decent pictures, all the while trying not to impale the said little one with the newly cut--and sharpened--hot dog roasting sticks that are somehow entwined in your fingers, the crook of your elbow, or poking out of a pocket. Somehow we all managed.

Watching my mom help on our adventure, it made me remember all the Saturday "Bentures" we had growing up. I'm sure I always did my share of complaining about things not being perfect--the sand in my shoes, or my hot dog falling into the fire, or the smoke in my eyes--but I remember my mom always being so cheerful about being out, doing something together as a family. Now I'm a mom and I get the challenge of tackling not-so-perfect circumstances and still being positive.

When we returned after giving up on the Sticky Swamp, the little explorers were ready for some grub. But first we had to roust the uncles away from their work.

If one little girl in a hole is fun . . .

. . . then two little girls in a hole is even more fun!

Yum, hot dogs, finally. River wanted both varieties--
cooked and uncooked.

"Hey, how come you got two, I only got one."

This was a good day!

Six months already

2009-11-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

Mesa went in for her 6 month well-baby check-up at the beginning of the month. (It's taken me so long to post this that she is only a few days shy of 7 months--unbelievable). She is growing a lot -- I know, because she is getting super heavy to pack around. It's no wonder my hips are always out of wack, when they are always cocked one way or the other with almost 20 lbs latched to them. I take that back, not latched, more like balanced, because for some reason my children don't know how to hold onto ME, I'm always holding onto THEM. So anyway, here are some stats:

Weight: 18.5 lbs (90th percentile)

Height: 27-3/4 in (95th percentile)

Head: Sorry, didn't catch what she said.

I was trying to entertain Rain at the moment.

This little girl is just as loveable as the first one. Mesa is actually probably more laid back than Rain was. Mesa likes to chill with Daddy and she is very forgiving of Rain who tries to love and take care of her, but does a good job of mauling and squishing, sprinkled with hugs and kisses. Rain even occasionally shares her binky with Mesa. Pure sister love, that's all I can say.

Mesa LOVES to eat graham crackers. She has an obsession with food. She eats at least two HUGE bowls of cereal with applesauce or a pack of baby food--and screams when it's gone. At in the middle of there she eats pieces of bread, mom, bananas, graham crackers, mom, and anything else she can get her little chubby fingers on. She is getting more precise at grabbing things between her finger and thumb.

She has kept me up at night a lot lately but hopefully those stubborn teeth will poke through and we will once more see a little less of each other during the wee hours of the night. Last night was a major improvement since she had very little sleep throughout the day and was exhausted. But I still love her to pieces and her little giggles make it all worth it.

Humility

2009-11-20T13:24:00.000-07:00

Being sick is one of the many humbling experiences during this mortal experience. I am so lethargic and unproductive that it frustrates me. All the household things start slipping and I find that I lean on the crutch of movies to pass the time with as few disturbances as possible. I feel even worse because I feel like I am wasting my life when I am sick. It's at that point that I begin promising myself, and the Lord, that I will be SOOO much more productive with my time, if I could only get over this current ailment. I also find myself cheering myself on when I get something done while I'm sick. Then it's one less thing I will have to do when I get better.

The second thing that brings humility is not getting a full night's rest. Mesa has been waking up 3 or 4 times a night and lately even 5 or 6 times. She could be teething, although for as long as it's been going on, I would have expected to see at least a little tiny tooth . . . but NOTHING. She got some vaccinations last week, but she seems to be over that. The final option is that she has the cold that my whole family got. Despite my best efforts in trying to sanitize and keep her from getting it, I was defeated. With the whole stuffy nose business, she can't take a binky very well because she can't breath. When I am so exhausted and she wakes up, I groan, thinking how tired I am. I go to her crib and look down, seeing those bright eyes staring at me in the darkness when I wish that they were closed. I wrap her up again and start rocking her, trying to keep from dropping her as I half-doze walking up and down the hall. It's humbling.

If my day goes by, and I've only emptied the dishwasher and maybe done one load of laundry, I try to find excuses like "the girls are sick and more fussy," or "if only I had got a good night's sleep, I would've had the energy to get more done." But if I look at the big picture and assume that I only have to be productive on days that EVERYONE in house is in perfect health, and I got a full night's rest the night before, then there will be a lot of unproductiveness in my life. The hard part is to still work through those days getting as much as done as I can, with as much of a smile and cheerful attitude that I can muster, knowing that I tried my best and that the Lord expects nothing more.

Watering the Deer . . . I mean, Cows

2009-11-17T23:00:00.002-07:00

It's been really dry in our area and all the cows on the cattle permits are running out of water. There hasn't been any rain to fill the catchments and storage tands, so my parents have to haul water EVERYDAY, and sometimes twice a day to water their cows. However, not only is the water running out for the cows, it is also running our for the mule deer population on the Buckskin.

Rain was content to stay in the back of the truck for about three minutes.

Then she wanted to be closer.

So as my parents haul water, it is not uncommon to see the deer coming in to lick the water off the water trailer, or mill among the cows trying to get a drink. The water was so scarce, the cows were even chasing the deer off of it.

Can you spot the deer?

One afternoon my two girls and I went on an adventure with "PacaMa" to haul water. We bounced and jostled over the dirt road as the water trailer sloshed and shoved behind us. We finally reached our destination, and sure enough, there were the cows, and the deer, waiting for us.

Rain enjoyed watching the cows, and I had to keep pulling her back as she was intent on running up and petting their faces--probably more like poking their eyes and tugging at their ears, which is her favorite anatomy lesson she likes to recite with any animal, creature, creepy crawly, etc that comes within her reach.

After filling up the water troughs, we sat back and watched the cows get their fill and the deer coming in to get their share.

We also found a carcass of a deer that had been butchered out since this was all during the deer hunts. While most little girls pick bouquets of flowers, my little girl enjoys bouquets of deer legs. She loved to pet it softly and tickle its toes.

(Don't ask me where she gets this since I am usually there in the middle of it trying to catch that "hopper" for her, or show her the lizard before it runs away, or the rattlesnake that "Paca" killed.)

Both the girls were pretty good troopers throughout the whole adventure.

Green pumpkins

2009-11-11T13:56:00.002-07:00

I'm not a huge fan of Halloween. I would much rather play games as a family than try and think of a costume and brave the trick-or-treating crowds. But as a Mommy, I thought I should at least try to get in the Halloween spirit for Rain.

So, I bought pumpkins--around the first week of October. I was bound and determined to carve pumpkins. I bought a big one and a little one. I brought them home and set them on my counter. "Look Rain, PUMPKINS!" So big and orange. Well, days passed and between chasing cows, building corrals, cutting cedar posts, and life in general, they sat on my counter--faceless--yet I could feel their eyes boring into me every time I walked past them, or pushed them this way or that way to make room on the counter for food, playdoh, or coloring books. The day I would plan to carve them, would be the night that Shane didn't get home until after the girls were in bed.

Halloween loomed nearer and I noticed a strange phenomenon. My pumpkins were turning GREEN! . . . and not from mold. How could a pumpkin that was bright orange when I bought it, grow chronologically backwards and turn unripe, I wondered. Now my pumpkins didn't have faces, nor were they even the right color.

Well, October 30th dawned, and I told Shane we were carving pumpkins that night, with or without him. Daddy made a special effort to be home and we carved our green pumpkin. Rain enjoyed playing with her "cumpin," and the candle inside was an extra cool idea for her. So for Halloween we had a carved green pumpkin face, roasted seeds, and went to the ward Trunk-or-Treat. Rain was a little camo girl on behalf of Uncle Joe who is in the Marines boot camp.

One of the first costumes she saw at the Trunk or Treat was a gorilla who tried to give her a piece of candy. It petrified her and for days after, all she could repeat was "scary monkey" over and over. Several days later, I unthinkingly checked out Tarzan from the library. Probably not the best timing. Maybe she'll enjoy it better another time.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

2009-10-28T15:45:00.007-07:00

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair" . . . What? You cut your hair? Yes, I did and I promised pictures of my haircut, so here are a few. I was going to show a picture of it done curly too, but thought I better post what I have or I might never get to it. I miss my long hair, but I am enjoying having it shorter.

I had about 8 inches cut off, which I donated, and had my hair thinned a little more. Now that there isn't so much weight, my curls are starting to spring back to life. I had talked about getting a haircut for a long time. I knew it was time, but wasn't ready to face it. Everytime we would walk past someone with really short hair, I would always tease Shane --"How about if I cut my hair like that?" He would always glare at me and say "you better not." He said it was okay if I cut my hair, but it couldn't go above my shoulders. Like I would be brave enough to go any shorter. It took my sister and two aunts to help me cut this much off.

I decided to wait on trying bangs for awhile yet. Maybe after another two kids I will be ready. =)

Maybe we'll see a bird . . .

2009-10-28T12:57:00.004-07:00

The other day Rain wanted to go for a walk. I agreed--we had been cooped up in the house and needed to get out. So, I was putting coats and shoes on, and then there were diapers to be changed, etc. While changing Rain's diaper, I was making up a song trying to distract her long enough to get the job done.

(make up any tune you want . . . I did)

Goin' for a walk

What do you think we'll see?

Maybe we'll see a bird

. . .

Now all bundled up, we headed out the door. But what should we come upon as soon as we opened the front gate, fluttering around helplessly on the driveway . . . but a bird. Of course, Rain's new thing is to "hode it". I tried to catch it and put the poor thing out of its misery. It must have flown into the side of our house. After catching it, Rain held it "carefully" while I tried to decide how to deal with it humanely and without breaking Rain's heart. She absolutely loved it and named all its parts.

Thankfully Nature ran its course, very quickly, and the bird died while she was holding it. But it went on our walk around the entire neighborhood.

Unfortunately, after the walk was over, Rain STILL didn't want to relinquish her newfound friend. I said she could hold it as long as she stayed outside. This would have been fine-- except she stepped in a big mud puddle in yard and started crying because she was dirty. (I don't know how I could have a child that dislikes being dirty so much.) So, I had to strip her outside, pry the lifeless bird out of her hands, and put her directly into the tub. She didn't stop screaming about her bird for at least a half hour. At bedtime, she finally consoled herself with the fact that it was dark outside and the bird "went night-night."

Look at me-- I'm a Blogger!

2009-10-24T23:37:00.001-07:00

In reading the name of my new blog, I hope you don't get the impression that I live in "Paradise" where my life is perfect. Perhaps it would be more appropriately named "In Search of Paradise." However, all the blogs with the name "Finding (insert word here) " with such words as Happiness, Joy, Peace, etc were all taken. No, this blog is more along the line of everyday adventures of trying to put ponytails in a runaway toddler while trying to find happiness NOW. As you will come to notice, I'm not always very successful in getting the ponytails in and a lot of the pictures will be "wild and free."

I have felt for awhile now that I should start a blog--maybe because all my friends have one, or maybe because it will ease the guilt about being horrible at keeping a journal, but probably more because my girls are growing up so fast and I don't to miss it. I know it sounds cliche, but I didn't think it would happen to me. Sure, there are long days, and even longer nights, but I can tell already that these days will be gone long before I'm ready.