Sunday, December 19, 2010

Last third of the year

In October, we had a birthday. The first birthday of Baby Brother. It was awesome!

He loves to sweep the kitchen floors. And then play with cake.
We practiced blowing out candles before his birthday, but he just didn't get it when we actually put one on the cake. He really just wanted to play with it.

This is my family with my parents about 5 days before they left for Germany to serve in the Freiberg Temple.

This is the cake I slaved over. It was awesome and soo YUMMY!

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Relationship Supervisor

Whatever you want it to be, I got all the crappy parts of it. It could be IT, but then, what does IT mean? Jen doesn't know, and she's the relationship supervisor.

But you have to know British Tele. to know the IT Crowd. funny stuff that IT Crowd is.

On another note, my boy turned one on Saturday.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Just like big sister

My girls do lots of things together. I only say lots because big sister went to first grade this year and left little sisters behind. Middle-most sister isn't really behind though because she is reading along with the best of them. At nearly 5 years old, she reads on a beginning kindergarten level. she smart enough to be in K this year, but we decided that she's not emotionally ready for it. I'm so proud of her that she reads so well already.
Biggest sister got 12/10 on her spelling test last week. Why are first graders given words like "behavior" and "cooperate" anyway? I never learned those even as a bonus, until about the 3rd grade.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Gun Talk.

In the daytime, I am mother, financier, housekeeper, maid, butler, secretary, curator of small mammals, inventor, nurse, tutor, teacher, launderer, and answerer of phones.

In the evenings, I am the menial, last person whom the consumer deals with at the grocery store. I am the checker. I take abuse, foul language, eye-rolling and tongue lashings from many people.
Two weeks ago, I was able to add: gun threaten-ee.

Mind you, I am the wife of a former Marine officer. I don't take gun talk lightly. Especially if you are going to be brazen enough to threaten me, or my family.
When your receipt shows a charge and the two very nice ladies at the customer service desk are trying (very nicely) to help you understand that it was the flex spending charge because of your pharmacy items and you threaten to bring back your gun and kill people, you'd better be prepared to spend a night behind bars.
Really. I was threatened with a gun.
After Amanda and I tried very nicely to explain that this $11.xx number was what he could have put on his FSA card, if he had insurance through his employer, even after I showed him that his Benedryl and one other item were pharmacy items that added up to his $11.xx, he was belligerent still and told us that he was going to go home and add it up on his calculator and if it didn't add up right he was "going to come back with my gun and shoot everyone".

Now I am here to tell you that that is a first for me. I have been threatened by drunks, drug addicts, roommates, children, teenagers. None of which I have taken very seriously, but this gun thing, I don't think is a very funny joke. It's a very sick one if you ask me. I may have overreacted and told too many people. I told one of the night managers, who was there and she grew concerned and her face got big and flushed and then, she did the right thing. She called the Loss Prevention manager, who was cooking dinner for her family, and then she called the police dispatch.

I have to tell you right now, I was terrified. I'm all about the right to bare arms, but there's nothing that says you get to threaten people with them. Unless you're protecting your freedom of speech, then you're just dumb, because that kind of thing will get you thrown in jail.

When the police officers arrived, I made a formal statement and then I stayed out in the LP room to help identify the perp and just get off the sales floor. I was in no shape to see people at the moment. It took roughly 35-45 minutes to get images for the police officers. I think if anyone ever sees the man again, he will be permanently trespassed from the store I work at and he will probably be arrested for oh, I don't know, attempted stupidity!
I just don't feel safe at work any more.
Wish me luck.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Mist of Darkness

Not to be trite, but recently, I have really decided to take the bull by the horns and do something with my life. I have 30 pounds to lose and a life to look after. I have been brought up in

For me to post this is a big thing and I draw strength from a friend of mine, Nicole. She's wonderful and has a huge testimony of the love our savior has for us. I love that she has no fear in sharing this with people either.
Back to the thought.
I have been struggling to lose weight after baby M was born, I nearly lost my life. I have come to the conclusion that I need to be healthier and take the initiative to lose. It is ssssssssooooooo hard. I love food, and I love the wrong kinds of food. Right now, food is winning.
We have this Word of Wisdom that serves as a guideline for health and well-being. It was given as revelation, nearly 200 years ago, through the prophet Joseph Smith, and the things it contains are only now being backed up by science. For instance, eat meat sparingly, fill up on grains, exercise regularly, alcohol is for the wound and not the belly, tobacco makes your lungs black and makes you sick...and many more things.
I'll tell you what. I don't have any problems with the alcohol part because I have smelled drunk people. They smell like my babys dirty diaper bin. Why would you do that to yourself? Why would you make yourself smell like a dirty, wet diaper? tobacco makes me get headaches. No problems there.
I'll tell you what kicks my butt. FOOD. I work in a grocery store and am surrounded by food every day. I say that it's not the shopping while you're hungry that gets me. It's the working while I'm hungry that gets me. That's when I make all my meal plans and dinner plans and any kind of food plan. If it goes in my stomach, it's a well thought out plan of many hours at my place of employment. I LOVE FOOD!
I have just now, (well, three weeks ago) decided that I need to take it seriously and lose some weight. I said in an earlier post, "Me and the flap, we're good friends" referring to the lose skin around my midsection. I plan to lose it or most of it by Christmas time. I might be brave enough to post some before and after pictures.
I have been fighting with the same 6 pounds since March though. It's a lot harder than it sounds. I have been trying, earnestly, to limit my sweets and garbage foods to minimal amounts per week, and I have been putting more veggies in my meals. Not just produce in general, but vegetables. I don't eat enough veggies. Or drink enough water for that matter. I have started drinking two of those tall bottle sizes of the smart water at work every day. That doesn't account for what I intake at home either. Ahh, water tastes best to your body. (Even some of the girls at work have said that I look thinner. Thanks, Angela).

And more importantly, I have decided to take on Moroni's (More-O-nigh) Challenge. I am going to finish the Book of Mormon by the time my oldest goes back to school for the fall. The last time I did that, I was in college. in the late 1990's. When you read the Book of Mormon, you read with intent, prayer and a desire to know that it is true. When you are finished, you kneel in prayer to Heavenly Father and ask Him if it is true. The Holy Ghost will testify to you that it is and there is the beginning of your tesitmony. You then keep your life in line with the teachings therein and pray and read scripture regularly. He will bless you so much for doing good and righteous things. And I will be a better parent for this too.
Sometimes, though, we forget. I am looking at this as a "refresher course". I am going to go at this three fold. 1)Word of Wisdom. 2)Book of Mormon. 3)Teach my children with more love than I have ever done before.


I have known this since the middle of June. Now I am crunching at the end of June. I have so many, many sewing projects to make, I just don't know where to start.

I promised biggest sister that I would make her a new summer dress, because all she has is her fancy wintertime dresses, which are too small by now. I just finished middle-most sisters Easter dress. I only basted the zipper opening shut and poorly put the zipper in. Now it looks, and operates the right way. Whew! That was a close call.

I also finished a coin-purse/wallet that I had been putting off for the last several months. I had one of those Latin American purses that had holes in each side corner below the zipper. I took the zipper out of that one and re-purposed it to another one which I used a fat quarter for. It looks sweet. Well, for a first try I am super pleased with myself.

Now I have to conjure up two pioneer outfits for a July 10th activity for the primary. HELP. I don't know where to start. I think I will call my mother and see if she has any old patterns I can use. I know I have fabric to use. I have an old skirt I made in 2007 for a Relief Society thingy where they asked me to be Emma Smith. I can cut that up and not feel badly about it. I just need a pattern. I think they would look super-cute in matching dresses and pinafores with little bonnets. I dunno. I don't know if I have time for that. We'll see.
I promise to post some pictures. Later. After I get the pioneer thingy out of the way.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

breastfeeding vs. bottlefeeding

I have no idea what I was thinking when I found this, but I thought it was super funny, and quite accurate. I have been on both sides of the argument, but find this so anecdotal, that I had to share it. I even left a the very bottom.
and search "Bottles vs. Breast contest."

It is about the general savings that can take place when you breast feed. Not just about the 1500 in formula, but other things as well.

Here is a copy of my response. I had to laugh at some of the others because they were so silly:

"Thank you for your humor. I for one can really appreciate it

I have 4 children. Two of them are Half-and-half babies. I was one who didn't know enough to get the right help with my first baby to successfully nurse. Wish I would have known. It was never easy with her. I felt like someone was rubbing 10 grit sandpaper on my chest. I pumped for her. It was more comfortable. She had milk for 4 months, formula for 8. She turned out pretty bright.

I couldn't keep up with little sister because of work. She had much less formula than oldest sister. Middlemost sister was exclusively breastfed for 13 months. I had milk to spare.

I plan to nurse baby as long as he wants. I have no problems with it. I also had to work with each one of them as babies and daddy had to give them bottles. I have no problem with that either.
I thought this was dead on. Having had to buy formula for our oldest was the hugest expense we ever had for any of our babies, other than getting baby boy here, (in which we both nearly died--he was born via emergency c-section and I still don't understand why they say c-section babies can't nurse...that's a boatload of b.s.)

I have had to pump for all my children. It takes up way too much time, but they all have had breast milk, they are all relatively in excellent health.

I can estimate that a can of Enfamil powder (12.9 oz.) lasts a new baby 5 days. Each can this size costs between 13 and 16 dollars. You buy more as the baby gets older and I do believe we reached an average of 12 cans/month. So it costed $117-192/month and over the course of 8 months, $936-1536 on powder alone to feed our first born. I never thought to calculate the savings of electricity and water

Don't get me wrong! there are benefits for both ways. When all you want to do is take a shower and brush your teeth, but baby wants to eat, most of the time, baby wins. with a bottle, and an older baby, you have about 20 minutes. And that time is golden. But sleep is golden also. It is wonderful to take baby to bed and go back to sleep and turn over and start again.

Even a nursing baby loses focus and looks around. We've sprayed as much as he's played while he's been eating.

And keeping with the tone of this post I will say that our savings have been phenomenal as we've given our babies breast milk. "

The June Reference

I really have no other title, but it is. I was going to write something else, but abandoned it because it wasn't something I thought I should write here. I have been jabbed at by some of my friends that I haven't updated anything lately. C'mon! It's only been a month!
I still work in retail grocery. Nothing new there: biggest sister got her first week of summer vacation done with and the next Monday waltzed into my bedroom at 6:45am and proudly proclaimed that she was "going to school today". We bantered back and forth for 2 hours about it while I convinced her that she really wasn't going to school, and that she had at least 2 more months of play time. I think she is just really anxious for the first grade:
Middlemost sister has some, well, okay a lot of left-over 2-year-old syndrome and whines so very much. I am still learning that the best discipline for her (and littlest sister too) is to scoop her up and hold her while she is pulling a tantrum. I realize that's not what I really want to be doing, when all I really want to do is throw her outside to play in the back yard, but it will only create a sadder, whinier little girl. It is, however, just what she needs. I have had more cuddle time doing this, and we end in more hugs and giggles than there would be otherwise.
Littlest sister is a mumbler. I just want to run and hide from her, but the human side of me yells in hopes that she will hear me being loud so that she will be louder. I know this is wrong, and have made enemies at times with her. She too, I scoop up and cuddle as she is tantruming. It happened just the other morning. Daddy was making pancakes for breakfast and she wanted her favorite, special plate, but it was in the dishwasher. Dirty. As much as we kept telling her that it was dirty, she kept trying to get it out and open and whine and boob about it. We kept telling her that we were going to send her back to bed and this and that, but nothing worked. In a huge rage, I took about 7 quite large, loud steps to the dishwasher, where she was sitting on the floor and I scooped her up and hugged her and we walked to my bedroom, sat on my bed and rocked back and forth as I patted her back. She eventually calmed down and we agreed that she could have a glass plate, instead of her favorite black plastic one.
Baby has learned to really crawl. He never army crawled, he would dig his toes into the floor and push at the same time he used his arms to gain forward momentum. He'd fall on his face this way but would reward us with a giant toothless smile, as if to say "look at what I just did". He's growing way too fast.
Hubby has one class left and then an internship. Please pray that he gets the right one. I don't know what to do for him, except pray. He is doing so well in school and I am so proud of him. We even think he will be able to work at the local university in the fall and teach 3 classes. (He is, after all, buddy buddy with the adjunct professor hiring guy). We hope this works out. I hope this works out. His birthday is this month. This week, actually. He will be XX. It works out for me, because I am XX. I married myself a young'in. It works out for the mortality rate, to be exact. Men tend not to last as long as women do.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Mixed Nuts and Mending the Past

Stop me if I'm wrong, but I think I have created a few enemies in my life. I would be lying if I didn't admit to it. I know I have done wrong to some and hurt some feelings. "I'm only human" right? It sounds like such a scape-goat. Sometimes I think that's exactly what I need. After all, the ancient Jews had a scape-goat. The red-haired goat they would lead up the mountain for sacrifice had to be completely red-haired. If there was even one white, brown, black hair on its entire body, they would cancel the sacrifice and the goat would get to "escape". I'm pretty sure that's how it goes.
Anyway, I'd like a scape-goat right now. I'd like to escape from all the sour things I've ever said, mean things I've ever done and bad things I've ever thought of doing.
I learn this from my children. They are wonderful. The sisters love to dress M. up in headbands, barrettes and flowers. Please...let's let the boy have a chance. But I can't get mad at them because they are having fun and M. isn't old enough to know any better. We'll just have to make him a prince costume or knight costume or something. Maybe...Invader Zim.
I learned today and yesterday, from the whining littlest sisters that to pick them up and hold them through their tantrum isn't really what I want to do, but exactly what they need their mommy to do.
I'm trying to right my wrongs and it's not really working out in my favor. Just over one year ago, we moved out of my mom/dad's house. We went stealth and left while they were away. Things were going south and doing that made them go farther south. But, I will spare details, because I was pregnant and don't remember them, or choose not to remember them. 6 weeks after we left mom/dad's house, I had a real relationship with my mother. It wasn't back to normal, but it was so much better. I hope she can say the same thing. I know I hurt my dad's feelings too, but as far as I can tell, we have mended. I'd like to have a wonderful relationship with the rest of my family, but I can't. We are spread out way too far away for my taste, and it makes getting together really hard. When my mom drove from Virginia back to my home state with my and my two older girls, after hubby got out of the military, we stopped at my older brother home in XXXX. We stayed the night and he and I stayed up until 5am shooting the breeze about nothing. It was FANTASTIC! As tired as I was when I got up 4 hours later, I would do it all over again.

I think my family is nuts, and that is why I love them.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Art by J. Kirk Richards.

My cousin, Kirk, is a fantastic artist. He was featured in an exhibit during the 2002 Winter Games in Salt Lake City. I don't remember what gallery. He has had his work featured in the LDS monthly magazine "the Enzine". He has studied art from one of my favorites, James Christensen. And now, his biggest show ever is going to take place in St. George, Utah at the Dixie State Sears Gallery in St. George, Utah from May 28-August 13. He does a lot of angels, Christian/religious, family work. I think he's marvelous. He's also quite the musician and has a couple of childrens books too. Here is the link to his showing:
and here is the link to his professional web page.
Please take a look at his work, and read his books, and listen to some of his music.
I can't post a sample of his work because it is all copyrighted, so you'll just have to go take a looksee.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

What Not to Wear

As recently as Thanksgiving, someone close to me, also a mother, had a bit of work done. This woman has always been beautiful, but after 3 children, her youngest is nearly 4 at the moment, she had that last 10 to go and no matter what work outs she did, couldn't seem to get rid of it. She had abdominal surgery and looks the same size she was when we were children. I love this person dearly and at a time in my life when I was needing new clothes, she gave me not new clothes, but new-to-me clothes.
We have never had the same taste, but I would honestly wear some of these things by choice. Some are way cute, and others...we'll just say make me look so much more hippy than I have ever been.

There is a show on the cable network TLC called "What Not to Wear" and we are both fans.
The hosts, Stacy London and Clinton Kelly, take fashion-challenged people from around the USA and give them $5000 and a week in NYC to shop for a new wardrobe according to body shape rules and fashion savvy. The catch is, they have to give up nearly every little bit of clothing they own--if (and most of the time all the peices do)--they don't follow the rules. Usually, buy things in the right size, not the size you think you are; cinch above the waist and not below it/that cuts you in half and creates more rolls; wear proper, supportive undergarments; a little make-up goes a long way, way longer than more make-up; create some visual interest and so on.
Now, I do consider myself fashion-challenged, but not to the point where I would have to surrender my clothing under threat of ripping the shirt off my back, and I thank this woman for the "new" clothes I have, but, and it is a big but...MINE. We have never been the same size, even when we were. My hips are hippier and my chest has always been chestier.
"They're all Clinton and Stacy approved." she says. I got the reference. I didn't need her to explain where the reference came from because she knows I'm a fan and would watch religiously if I could, but most of these pieces she gave me--the pants (I was only able to wear two pairs of the pants, and I'm nursing a wee one so I can't wear the dress that looks so fabulous on me because I'd end up stretching out the neck way too much)--Bless her heart, they are approved for her body shape. Or what her body shape used to be.
DH says I can get a tummy tuck if I want one, but when I had Baby M, I nearly lost my life with a c-section. I just don't know if I could do that again. And the cost. Even in about 5 years, when we're done with school and making real money...I just don't know about that. After 4 babies, I'm resigned to the flap I have going on. Me and the flap, We're good friends. I'd just like to have the clothes that fit my body and camouflage the flaws. I am not ungrateful, I just wish I could wear all the pieces she gave me.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Addiction to

Remind me sometime that I have to write about my addiction to following er uh, lurking around crafty blogs.

Family. We Grow and Learn....Sometimes.

Sometimes I think I know it all. Other times, I know I don't. Wanna know why? The brain cells come out with the breast milk. I said that last night at work and one of the little girls I work with thought I was serious.

I can't count. It's been proven by testing. I was a music major in college. I failed the chapter on counting and rhythm miserably. Just ask Kara. She is a supervisor in the grocery store I work in. She has the dubious task of checking my till when I'm done counting down and then saying to me, "sara, where is the rest of your money. count your till again." last night, I found 35 still in it, but the tape really did say 200. I promise.
I can't count.
In high school, I learned rhythm in the musical "Into the Woods". It was such a great play. Sondheim is a killer to play though.
Doesn't mean I can count.

Littlest sister is potty training. She had two accidents this week. The first, her diaper leaked because I just didn't change her enough. The second, she smacked her fingers in the door and creased her knuckles when it shut, 3 minutes after I told her to go potty. In the middle of her crying, her little body relaxed and she pooped in her unders. I'm pretty sure this is about the 4th pair we've thrown away. I just can't bring myself to clean cloth underwear of poo. She certainly is a cute little girl though. Her potty chart sure is filling up. Not as fast as we'd like it to, but she's doing very well.

Middle-most sister is doing all the things that biggest sister is doing, but at a slightly slower pace. after all, she is only 4 years old. We forget that she is only 4. Her verbal skills are of a 6 year old. We could technically test her into kindergarten and she would fit right in perfectly. I so wish we could get her into dance class

Biggest sister is about to embark upon her very first field trip. The kindergarten is going to the petting zoo. I'm jealous. I can't go because there is no room for younger siblings. Oh well. I sure hope I can get much done while she is gone for the extra two-and-a-half hours.

My hubby is trying to line up his internship and another job. interning and working at the same place just doesn't jive with his place of employment. It's a conflict of interest. He's on some serious good terms with the person who hires adjunct faculty at the local small university. He told him to call in the end of summer for fall semester. Here's to luck. Of the good kind.

Baby M. is growing so fast. I don't want him to stop, but at the same time, I think he's too big. He won't roll over, but gets frustrated when he ends up on his side arching his back to see what's going on above his head. He'll roll front to back, just not back to front. He gets along quite well in his stander. It carries him all over tthe kitchen and dining room. He loves it. You know what else he loves? Baby food from a jar. That's so much fun to watch him. He gets so worked up about it and then yells at me for putting the spoon down to feed myself, at the same time, so I can only manage one bite at a time. Being my fourth child, I have mastered feeding babies from my lap. I do this so when baby sneezes, I don't end up with a face full of mush, like my sister-in-law. It's just one of those things you gotta learn. The high chair is a thing you use when they can feed themselves.

I enjoy watching my children play with each other and learning from one another and loving each other. I truly am blessed by the love my little family shares with one another, even though we raise our voices a lot.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Crafty? Me?

Afraid not. The craftiest I have been lately was yesterday. I moved my scrap-booking paper and things from the garage to the attic. Let me emphasize that I do not use my scrap-booking paper for its intended purpose, at all, if ever. My children play with it and we do silly crafts, like ripping pictures.
The craft, I mean goal, now is to get the garage cleaned out of all residual boxes before my birthday in July. I mean, if it's like walking a tiny ditch to get to the van, then it must be cleaned. Right? I owe tribute to my mother for that. We had just that. A narrow ditch from the kitchen door around the front of the vehicle to the drivers door, and any other door for that matter. I'm only sorry that I had no pictures of the before. I called my mother to beg for her help. She could have her own organization helpline and make millions off it. I swear, that woman could pack a moving van that was already full! They, my mom and dad, came over on a Saturday afternoon in December to help. And to have birthday cake for the middlemost sister. My mom and I spent the better half of 3 hours moving boxes around and repacking boxes and stacking them. What a difference! Instead of a space barely big enough to park our van, (even my mother-in-law helped out while she was here when Baby M was born. She made the wall of boxes to match the great wall of china, with no order though. just space to park the van. When we moved in, Hubby put ALL of the boxes in the garage in no order at all. Just to get them out), We now have lined the wall of the garage with only one layer of boxes neatly stacked around the perimeter.
I should have done it when it was colder, so I wouldn't have to look especially hard for critters. I don't want critters in my house. I don't like them and they don't like me, but things are okay. I have probably 3 hours worth of work to do to get things put away, then It's gotta get swept out. (Having to go to work makes craft projects like this kinda difficult).
Oh well, I'll have fun, right.?

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Baby M.s Birth

Here is an account of Baby M's birth. It's quite horrific if you ask me. I think I truly nearly died. I decided to put it here since things on facebook arbitrarily go missing. I had to edit some things though. About the last whole paragraph has been deleted because you never can be too careful.

..M. was about 5-6 days old. and I was so very tired and hungry and cranky when I wrote this.

I went into labor Thursday about at 11:30 am, right before I picked I. up from school. I did some acupressure, which I think set it off, because it was nearly an immediate reaction. I contracted for 14 hours. Anyway. We got to the hospital about at 11:30 PM, they monitored me for an hour, because I was only dilated at a 2. When my doc showed up an hour later, (he just happened to be there anyway, to help some other colleague with a tubal ligation) he checked me and I was at 4. My water broke, which I never felt before and I gushed for about 5 minutes. Here's where it gets scary.
Babys hand popped out. Followed by an umbilical chord. They did a sonogram, and in less than a day, he went breach. My hubby said there was a contraction that pushed him up, instead of down and out,I had my last apt on Wed, and he was head down, so I was pretty much scared to death. I cried, the nurse jumped on top of me and shoved her hand inside to keep his head from pressing the chord, which prolapsed, and they rushed me to the O.R. They ran to get my doc and he hustled in. there was no time for a shave, so he anesthesiologist gave me a spinal (no time for an epidural here) and my legs went really shaky for about 30 seconds and then really warm. I still wanted to cry. "Do your legs feel warm?" the anesthesiologist asked over and over until I said "yeah, that feels kinda good". "Okay, cut now"
It only took about 30 seconds. They told me I had to relax, but when you're being cut open from side to side, and your body is in trauma, what else is there to do? I closed my eyes for the whole thing. They cut, his hand popped out of the incision and so the doc had to call for extra "specialty" help as he swept my uterus for the head. This caused a tear in my uterus, on both sides of the incision and the need for the specialist, who was an OB Surgeon. It only took 16 minutes from the nurse jumping on me to baby coming out, then they sewed for 2 hours. my insides feel so discombobulated. That's not something I was looking forward to in any situation anyhow. So I have a horizontal scar now to go along with my vertical stretch-marks. It's a good thing I wear a one-piece bathing suit, huh.
Anyway the specialist aided in sutures, because of the tearing, there was a good chance of vein ruptures, and I would have had to have a full hysterectomy. Thankfully, It wasn't THAT bad. I only lost half of my blood volume.
I shouldn't remember so much detail, especially for being in shock, but hey. This is it. I'm glad that he's safe, and healthy, and I'm going to be okay. I can go to the bathroom my myself, and walking is a great chore. But it all could be so much worse. So much worse. I'm glad it's not. The girls can't wait to see baby brother:
Friday, October 2, 2009, 1:39 am
Utah Valley Regional Medical Center

We welcome him with lots of hugs and kisses! and a flat wallet.
Did you know they won't let children under 14 into the hospital to visit patients? My girls are so sad....
I think I may have a bit of ppd already. I have never been good at this nursing thing, and seriously, Each side is now as big a a regulation-sized football. I'm not joking. I hurt all over, have a headache, fronts ache and tummy aches. I'm cold, tired and hungry,

So, there you have it. I lost 1/2 of my blood, had to have 2 units in an IV during recovery and lots of other kinds of fluids. My feet were 3 times the size they normally were and I still get dizzy. The feet have recovered, but the dizzy-ness will go away in about a month, when my red blood cell count has returned to closer to normal. The nursing thing now is so much better than my girls ever were. I don't know if it's a gender thing...j/k...but really, I am having much better luck this time around than any time before.
I thank the Lord that I came home with my baby and that we are all adjusting to the new things...even L., whom I thought would take it harder. (She's even potty-training right now to make things more interesting).

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Am I Really?

I have a good friend who has disclosed an ongoing battle with depression. I never knew it, because she always seemed to be happy and well-adjusted. I was always cranky and quite negative. She has a new blog about it too. I thin we are more alike than being a cancer makes us out to be.
In the last three or four years, my sister has been saying "what has happened to the fun, happy sister I used to have? I want her back!"
I just now know what I have been suspicious of for years is true, and I haven't been doing anything about it. Music used to be my one outlet for emotion that would never fail me and I could rely on it for anything. I am a classical musician, and I enjoy music of all kinds. It has taken a back seat in my life over the last 4 years. No longer! I make a space for it. My children love to dance and ballet takes a front seat. None of them has formal ballet training, but that makes no difference. Middlemost sister has a natural body for ballet, and we are looking for a dance school for her. It brings a great joy to my face to see my girls dance and have a good time, even if they are bopping to Salt n Peppa.
I have taken up sewing again. My mother taught me to sew on a machine when I was very young. I will probably teach my oldest daughter near her next birthday. (I just need to remember to not lose my temper). I have a giant sense of accomplishment when I finish tiny projects. Just yesterday, I made a childs apron out of a fat quarter and rickrack. I made the general apron shape by cutting half-circles out of the top corners and sewed them on as pockets. The rickrack made its way to the neck strap and the ties. It turned out really cute and only took me 30-45 minutes. But I felt really good. I finished something. Last week it was a car seat canopy for Baby M. The cover broke off, three months ago, so I had to remove it. He's been going uncovered since then. I found some darling oriental-type dragon fabric and made a quite boyish (not babyish) covering for it. I was quite pleased with myself. Last week, I also figured out how to fix the car seat. I found an old drycleaning hanger and took the cardboard tube off. Then I cut it open and taped about 4 inches to the stick part that has the built-in canopy, which was the part that broke. My grandmother would have been so proud. I used it up and wore it out. Now the one I made won't get lost in the baby carrier and smother Baby M.
All I need to do now is drag my cello out and play for a while. I just worry about poking little girls in the eyes with the bow and stabbing little feet with my end pin. Maybe I will write a song for my hubby.
So I have depression. I've said it. It's out. Now to heal.

Most Things Considered.

So I made a new blog. I gave it a better name, and the web address was already taken, so I had to modify it. I'm not as clever at naming things as I thought I once was and moved ALLLLL my posts from the other one to here just now. Since I live in a house full of girls, one boy and a husband, I thought it would be more fitting.
That being said, lets get started.

My husband is in graduate school and it terrifies me. His program requires an internship and he may have to quit his job. I'm scared of that because I make only enough for a single person to be impoverished by, let alone a family of 6. And I don't even get my whole paycheck because of the regular deductions and on top of that, health insurance. We still have to wait to see how things will go, but I have every right to be nervous. Hubby says that we'll just have to wait and see how things pan out and not to worry yet...Come on! I'm female. Women worry for everything. Baby M is teething and I worry about that too.

Biggest sister has been losing teeth now. She is 6 years old and has two holes in her smile. I had the tooth fairy leave 50cents for each one. She was so stinkin' excited. My children are so grown up, and the oldest is only 6. I am ready for them to stop. Not because I am dreading the sassy teen stage, but because they are perfect the way they are right now. I met a woman last night at the grocery store where I work, who's teenagers were really irritating her. She said to me, "don't have children".
"I have four". I said with a smile on my face.
"bury them before they get to be teenagers". She said with a crooked smile on her face that was just really creepy. I felt sorry for her. I love my children and I can't wait for them to be teenagers and pray that we will get along and like each other when they are.

Middlemost sister is 4 and she loves to dance. And take care of Baby M. And be the mom. And change babys diapers. "Make sure you point him down", I remind her as she is fastening it. I wish we could get her into ballet right now. I just fear that when we are able to afford it, she will be too old. (Like six is too old to dance, but it's a good fear).

Littlest sister is a challenge. She thinks she is up to all thing s the bigger sisters can do, but she forgets that most days she should take a nap. Most days, she truly needs a nap. And most days, I deal with it. I scoop her up and hold her while she cries and boobs. Then we start all over. She is so funny. I need a nap too, most days. But I forfeit the nap to work out.

I have lost 10 lbs since Baby M was born. My new pants are pretty loose now. I wouldn't have bought new pants, but the old ones have a hole in the crotch area that can't be fixed. I've sewn all my life and I can't figure out how to fix this one. And there is a giant bleach splatter on the rear, so people always knew it was me. Back to the weight. I'm working every day for this goal, and it seems impossible. Except for yesterday. I'll just put it out there. Yesterday, I weighed 166lbs. I'm pretty pleased with myself, that I can lose it. My hubby thinks that realistically I can lose 30 more, but I don't know that I want to go that low. 20 seems fine enough. But in my mind, I'm comfortable with who I am and the shape I have. Most of the time.
Now that I think about it, truthfully, I'd like to lose the belly. I think a little belly in front is okay, but I have just too much. I think when I lose the weight, because I've had 4 kids, it won't all go away. My sister had a tummy tuck, but I don't think that I could do that. My last was born by c-section in which I nearly died, (Which I will post about later), and that--I believe--is not helpful for the loss of shape.
Anyway, I don't remember where I was going with this because I have been tending to the needs of the wee ones as I type. They are good kids, and helpful too. I love them dearly.

Now I need to read that book about feeding husbands, because I think mine is malnourished.

New Blog=Better Name.

So I made a new blog. I gave it a better name, and the webaddress was already taken, so I hade to modify it. I'm not as clever at naming things as I thought I once was and moved ALLLLL my posts from the other one to here just now.
That being said, lets get started.

My husband is in graduate school and it terrifies me. His program requires an internship and he may have to quit his job. I'm scared of that because I make only enough for a single person to be impoverished by, let alone a family of 6. And I don't even get my whole paycheck because of the regular deductions and on top of that, health insurance. We still have to wait to see how things will go, but I have every right to be nervous. Hubby says that we'll just have to wait and see how things pan out and not to worry yet...Come on! I'm female. Women worry for everything. Baby M is teething and I worry about that too.

Biggest sister

Some Things Never Change or Now is the Time for Less Stress.

Some Things Never Change or Now is the Time for Less Stress.

I'm not as good at this blog thingy as I thought I'd be.
My baby boy is now 3 months old and looks like a little man. The sisters have pink eye and refuse to believe they are sick. I still work as a cashier in the grocery store and hubby is in grad school, trying to line up his internship.
I have less stress in my life, not because I am doing less. I do just as much now as I was before baby was born, even more. I have been known to wake the girls up at much past midnight thirty to clean up their messes they "didn't get to" before they went to bed. I have to make lunch for the baby while I am at work. (Actually, I have done that for each of his sisters as well,) and there is a surplus in the freezer. Yay me! That means he will never have to have formula. It is less stressful because I know he's not going to get sick with anything I get because he's getting breastmilk. I don't know about you, but I've been sitting in the same closet (because it's the only room without a camera and/or window) to make a bottle at least once per shift that I work. It's not my favorite part of the day, that would be when baby wakes up and I take him back to bed with me at 6 am to feed him, but it helps us both out. I get quirky looks from co-workers and sometimes even some daring soul makes a snarky remark. Whatever! I can take it. I have three other times. Bring it! I was even made aware of a Utah state law that requires employers to allow nursing mothers extra breaks to take care of business. (In addition to the regularly scheduled breaks). How nice is that? I get extra time off my feet!
The younger sisters are both sick. They have pink eye and colds. Grandpa's birthday is tomorrow and they won't get to go because of it. I don't know how to let them down easily, but they can't go and infect my nieces and nephews. It's going to break their little hearts. Biggest sister will be the only one who gets to go. The others will stay home with Daddy while I go to work. He's so good at the daddy thing. the kids adore him! I think it makes him HOT!
Biggest sister is in Kindergarten and she loves Loves LOVES it! I can't get her to not love it. and she loves to read. I can't believe how much she has learned in 4 months. She's learning things in Kindergarten that I only remember learning in the first or second grade. Certainly not in Kindergarten.

Sweet Rolls

Sweet Rolls

My husband has to work on Sundays. We miss him for church, especially when I have to feed baby. Three sisters think they have to come with me to the mothers' lounge. That gets to be a little hectic when there are other women there feeding their babys too.
Anyway, he works with mentally ill people of all ages at the state mental hospital. He has to be there at 6:30 am, so he has to be up pretty early. That is why I am up at this hour. I would be asleep right now, but he mad a special request for breakfast. Sweet rolls. He wants my sweet rolls. "I want big, fluffy sweet rolls. Not skinny ones. I want something yummy to eat." Since my husband cooks, but cannot bake, I make the bread. My dough is better than his and always has been. I just know how to make a good bread dough. I don't know the secret. I couldn't tell you if you wanted to know. There's just something about the bread I make that it always, ALWAYS turns out right. AND it's fluffy, just like he likes it.
So I am waiting for the bread to finish.

I was thinking about my sweet rolls when all of a sudden images of my teenage church years came to mind. I was a class presidency member and we'd have weekly meetings at the adult leaders home and I would always take my "sticky buns" every week. I had a friend named Sallie who would go to these meetings with me. Sallie was my best friend for a time when she moved into the neighborhood. I was in 10th grade and she, 9th. We were mostly unseperable. Then she stopped being my friend. I was devestated. I had no other friends. Someone else moved in and they were the closest of all. Life was over as I knew it. This girl named Nicole came in and took Sallie away from me. I hated Nicole. I loathed everything about her. She was smug. She was Smart, she was beautiful. I was none of these. I thought myself cute, but that's about it.
But you know what? It turns out that Nicole has been one of the best people in my life. I grew to love Nicole and her beautiful spirit. She was and still is beautiful from the inside, out. She has an amazing spirit and testimony of our Savior, Jesus Christ that I absolutely think is so fantastic and she has no shame in what she believes. I only wish I...

So the next time you find yourself making sweet rolls, count all the blessings you have been given by our Heavenly Father. Give thanks for your sweet, wonderful friends. Those close to you and those you haven't seen, or spoken to in a while.

I Need a Time Out

I Need a Time Out

My mom and dad came over today. I called earlier in the week to see what they were doing, or rather to specifically invite my mother to come help me finish cleaning out the garage. They came over, to put a long story short, and helped me get the pile of dead/buggy boxes (because bugs love open boxes in a garage and tend to die in them) cleaned up and sorted out and put up the shelves for our meager food storage supply (which was half the problem). Now, instead of a narrow ditch, which we had to tiptoe through, there is a single-file stack on the far wall of the garage, which will eventually---SOON---end up in the attic. It makes me happy that I don't have to pretend to ignore the mess, which my wonderful husband created when we moved in by unloading the moving truck into the garage, any more.
We moved and hubby unloaded the truck into the garage, and then, when we needed something, we'd go look for it in a box. shortly after that, we sorted and threw away most of the junk, which was literally half of what was left. when baby was born in October, my m-i-l moved the boxesto the edge of the garage and I have been ignoring it ever since, until now. We can move around the van, Finally! and I believe it won't take just myself more than a few afternoons to finish the job. After all, I do have to find someplace suitable for biggest sisters bicycle, and the lawn mower.
When we got to a suitable stpping point, we had chocolate muffins for a birthday girl.

Today, it was middlemost sisters birthday. She turned 4. We had cake and ice cream and she wanted taco salad for dinner. It was good taco salad. I took our babysitter (from Virginia, who is here for college) home from the party and dropped the nephews off too. When I got home, I took to getting the girls bathed and ready for bed. Littlest sister was in her diaper so long today, that it leaked all over and she had a shower. Then she pooped in her clean diaper, THEN, she jumped into the COLD bathwater from the bigger sisters--dressed in yet another diaper AND her bathing suit. I was completely annoyed. The bigger sisters were washing the tea set that Grandma and Grandpa L. gave to middlemost sister for her present in the bathtub. They just HAD to wash it. We got them out of the tub, dried off and dressed for bed when I discovered IT.

I desperately need a time out. I went upstairs to get my girlie girls to bed tonight and to my surprise, and unbelief that I missed it for an entire day, I witnessed ink writing covering the wooden bunk beds. They, all three of them, got into heaps of trouble for writing all over the furniture. I just can't understand myself, and why I get so mad at something that mundane. It's just furniture. And not even decent furniture at that. It's a cheap, barely basic bunk bed from my favorite Swedish store. But like most people these days, we can't afford to replace, or even paint for that matter, our things I guess I could turn the ladder around. The thing is, the biggest sister wrote her name on it. "I didn't do it." She cried. But then middlemost sister said, "littlest sister colored over what I wrote. But I didn't write there because littlest sister wrote over it."
They are all grounded. And don't get anything to write with (pens, pencils, crayons, paints, colored pencils) upstairs. Ever. They have to do all their coloring and writing at the kitchen table. For the rest of their lives. (If that's the worst thing that ever happens, They are in pretty good shape.

Biggest sister is already in heaps of trouble for sticking her fingers into the center of each piece of cake that was left in the pan. She's six years old. I remember being six and being terrified to step out of line. Wiping frosting off the top of the cake would have been out of line, but my children don't really think twice about it.

I really don't know how many times today I asked my children "what were you thinking?" or "do you really think that was a good idea?"

Yesterday I had a great accomplishment. I assembled baby boys crib. He's been sleeping in a pack and play bassinet in our bedroom all this time and I don't sleep. Neither does my hubby. You know how newborns snort and grunt in their sleep? It keeps us awake. Every night.
I put the crib together, put a sheet on the mattress, and a blanket on top of that so he doesn't get cold and when the time came, he went to bed in his own room, in his own bed. He's been sleeping for more than 6 hours/ night now. Because I don't get up at every grunt or snort to feed him. My fronts are sore in the morning, but that's a very small price to trade for over 7 hours of sleep. He'll go down at about 8-8:30 and sleep until 5 or 6 to eat, then back to bed he goes and back to bed I go. It's been wonderful these last 3 nights. I have loved it.
But I still need a time out!

That's New to You Too!

That's New to You Too!

I have finally done it. I have jumped onto the bandwagon of blogging and begun a life I don't really have time for. already spend too much time cleaning my house and on facebook. I don't spend nearly enough time with my children making forts out of the kitchen chairs and clothes pins or reading to them from anything Shel Silverstien. We don't make telescopes out of old paper towel tubes or make cake and cookies all morning long every day with only the mixing bowls and cookie sheets. My hubby is gone by the time everyone else gets up and has half a day of work by the time dd1 gets home from school. Oh what a life I live.
I think that reading to my children is a valuable asset to life. It puts me to sleep and makes me lose my voice, but if I can manage to stay awake long enough, we can finish "the cat in the hat comes back". Not to mention, dd's 1 and 2 are both learning to read. and dd3 has an exceptional memory. Ds is just learning to smile and keep his head up and be cute!
I don't know if I'll have time for this like my friends Channin and Nicole and Heidi. They are beautiful people and I love them. I only wish my blog to be as nearly wonderful and entertaining as theirs.