I've been long absent from my blog and I know it.
It started out as a somewhat planned break as my attentions turned to other things, namely my dear father-in-law's struggle with cancer and posting health updates to a website for friends and relatives. My father in law is finally home for a short respite in his treatment. We are praying that he will be well again soon. But, then the planned month slid into two and now I find myself sliding into a third. I'm ready to come back now. I'm putting on my big girl pants and getting back to it.
I spent a month wading through homeschooling curriculum. I spent hours reading through blogs, articles, books, and websites on different products and methods each promising in turn to make my life easy and my child a genius. Awesome. I love it when money can buy easy solutions. At least when there's money to be had.
In any case, I bought books (lots and lots and LOTS of books) and now I'm settling in to go over my list and I'm making plans to get an outline ready for next year. I'll need to browse through our history/geography books and get an idea of the areas we'll be covering.
I have also been planning how we'll be spending our summer. We frequently go for walks through a local park. There are paved paths which wind around a shallow pond and there are many things to see. Last week Anna spotted a baby turtle swimming through the water. Its shell was slightly larger than a quarter so it must have been newly hatched. I have guide books on trees and animal tracks and wildflowers. Thomas and Anna will enjoy looking through them, even if they don't become expert naturalists. I think that this book will be fun for the kids, too.
It might seem like a lot of books, but honestly, Thomas really loves books. He gets most of his ideas and plans and information from books. Most of the time, if I just have the books available he will find them and read them in an afternoon. It makes my job very easy. Except when he gets this Really Great Idea about how he can build a real train and give Henry, Anna, and me rides and how he will be able to use his train to move packages! And he doesn't understand that this is just not something we can help him to do. The time he got into Calvin and Hobbes wasn't so great, either. Hm, or those Peanuts/Charlie Brown comics. Hearing him call Anna a 'Blockhead' was funny the first time, but it got old quickly.
Peter is taking a vacation from the Madhouse this week. We are staying close to home and putting a heavy emphasis on relaxation. Wish us luck. Today we went on a trip to the Arboretum. We had a wonderful time. I packed a lunch and the kids spent most of the day running down the paths shouting, "Really, I'm quite overwhelmed!" and "Mommy, isn't it a GLORIOUS day outside?" and "We could explore and explore every day for a YEAR and never see it all!" I need to stop letting them watch British BBC movies. And I'm definitely nixing the Masterpiece Theatre productions as well. And lest you think that I'm raising Little Lord Fauntleroy and PollyAnna Whittier, you might enjoy knowing they fought with vigor and passion over an empty Almond Extract bottle this afternoon. Ah well. It wasn't as bad as Henry's persistent screams in the van on the drive home.
I'll see if I can find some nice pictures to post of our outing today.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Edge of the Wilderness
We are back.
We went on vacation last week with my parents. They rent two little lake cabins every year so that we can all spend a week having a real vacation. I don't know how restful it is for my parents, but it gives the kids a lot of excitement and Peter and I get a chance to actually rest as Grandma and Grandpa cook and keep the kids busy.
The resort is in the middle of nowhere. It's along the edge of the Chippewa National Forest, 40 minutes away from Grand Rapids, Home of Judy Garland. We ran out of diapers towards the end of our vacation. We drove 10 miles to pay $14 for a package of Luvs. As I was checking out, the woman remarked that this was the last pack of diapers on the shelf in a size 4. I told her that she had a remarkable memory. She said that, no, she had been watching the supply of diapers and was waiting for the last package to sell before she ordered more. I wondered what would happen if you lived in the area wanted to buy diapers when she was waiting for a shipment. You'd have to drive miles to find any. Of course, so few people live in the area that I imagine there wasn't too much chance of anyone rushing in with a desperate need for diapers. But still. If Target were to run out of Luvs, well, I could buy the Target brand diapers, Pampers, Huggies (two different kinds), and that crunchy brand they're carrying now. And, failing that, I could buy diapers at one of the two grocery stores. It's almost a shame I use cloth diapers.
It was a five hour drive to the cabins and it put us in the middle of the quietest bit of forest that you can imagine. The Northwoods are dense and dark, filled with birch trees and pine and we spent the week enjoying the quiet. In the Twin Cities, we have airplanes flying overhead all the time. At our house, you can hear the blaring horn of passing trains half a mile away and the highway provides a steady stream of white noise. In the woods, all you can hear is the forest and the lake. I never heard an airplane all week. And at night I would look up and see the stars. In the country one can see the stars most people have forgotten even exist. I would look into the sky and be amazed that these bright points of light had been there all along. Even on the clearest, coldest day of the year, these are never seen in the city. And you forget. It made me wonder what else is out there, obscured by the business of everyday life. And I wonder how one goes about finding it.
Whatever else there is and however one finds it, it almost certainly has to be easier than finding diapers in the middle of the wilderness.
We went on vacation last week with my parents. They rent two little lake cabins every year so that we can all spend a week having a real vacation. I don't know how restful it is for my parents, but it gives the kids a lot of excitement and Peter and I get a chance to actually rest as Grandma and Grandpa cook and keep the kids busy.
The resort is in the middle of nowhere. It's along the edge of the Chippewa National Forest, 40 minutes away from Grand Rapids, Home of Judy Garland. We ran out of diapers towards the end of our vacation. We drove 10 miles to pay $14 for a package of Luvs. As I was checking out, the woman remarked that this was the last pack of diapers on the shelf in a size 4. I told her that she had a remarkable memory. She said that, no, she had been watching the supply of diapers and was waiting for the last package to sell before she ordered more. I wondered what would happen if you lived in the area wanted to buy diapers when she was waiting for a shipment. You'd have to drive miles to find any. Of course, so few people live in the area that I imagine there wasn't too much chance of anyone rushing in with a desperate need for diapers. But still. If Target were to run out of Luvs, well, I could buy the Target brand diapers, Pampers, Huggies (two different kinds), and that crunchy brand they're carrying now. And, failing that, I could buy diapers at one of the two grocery stores. It's almost a shame I use cloth diapers.
It was a five hour drive to the cabins and it put us in the middle of the quietest bit of forest that you can imagine. The Northwoods are dense and dark, filled with birch trees and pine and we spent the week enjoying the quiet. In the Twin Cities, we have airplanes flying overhead all the time. At our house, you can hear the blaring horn of passing trains half a mile away and the highway provides a steady stream of white noise. In the woods, all you can hear is the forest and the lake. I never heard an airplane all week. And at night I would look up and see the stars. In the country one can see the stars most people have forgotten even exist. I would look into the sky and be amazed that these bright points of light had been there all along. Even on the clearest, coldest day of the year, these are never seen in the city. And you forget. It made me wonder what else is out there, obscured by the business of everyday life. And I wonder how one goes about finding it.
Whatever else there is and however one finds it, it almost certainly has to be easier than finding diapers in the middle of the wilderness.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Knitting Stuff
Zucchini bread is proof that no matter how questionable things look in the beginning, things can always be improved if you add enough sugar and fat.
My dear Rachel came over yesterday and brought us some zucchini bread that she had baked in her tiny little kitchen. We ate it today for snack and I marveled again that something so tasty could come from something like the humble zucchini.
Rachel is an art specialist in the public schools and so she also did an art lesson with the kids. They drew things like lions and rabbits, houses and people. During their lesson I kept thinking, "Look! You're being enriched! We're having Enrichment Activities!" And after that I took the kids to their swimming lesson. I can't tell you how suburban this makes me feel. When I was growing up in the country our 'activities' basically consisted of weeding the garden, avoiding work, and learning how to shoot a gun. My kids are so soft. Thomas doesn't even know how to pluck a chicken.
In any case, there was some interest expressed in what I've been knitting this summer. Here's a brief synopsis:
Socks. Socks for ME! For a change.
I used Stephanie Pearl-McPhee's Basic Sock Recipe from her book Knitting Rules. Bless that woman's heart. With that book I can knit anything, without a pattern. I used Ty-Dy sock yarn from the Knit One Crochet Too company. I don't know how it will wear, but it is the softest yarn ever. I'm not usually a sucker for The Soft, but this was like knitting with water. And I really love the colors.
I am also knitting a Baby Albert for little Henry (who by the way is not so little any more--little giant, more like). This photo doesn't do the yarn any favors. It's a very rich, jewel-tone blue and green. The green is more of a yellow-green than a blue-green and is much richer. It's the best picture I could get, sadly enough. It's a schooshy merino wool that I bought at Shepherd's Harvest Sheep and Wool festival. I wonder how it will wear, but only time will tell. It was dyed by a local woman who had an amazing palette. I'd give you her contact info, but her etsy shop has been empty since the festival.
I've also finished a February Baby sweater (another) for a friend who is epecting her sixth intallment in September. I've started working on a matching hat, but who knows when that will be finished?
I've ALSO started a Christmas surprise for my father-in-law. I think he lurks here so that knitting project will have to be under wraps for the time being. I was lamenting to my mom that whenever you knit a gift it doesn't LOOK like anything. The yarn itself could cost $20 or more, plus all of your free time for weeks and weeks, but in the end all you have is a pair of mittens or socks or a hat to show for it. Oh, well. It's the thought that counts, right?
I've ALSO started a project for my mother-in-law. This one is a little more difficult since it involves lace and therefore requires more attention and concentration. I'm not sure it will be done in time. Can you believe it? Six months in advance and I'm still not sure. But now that the lace baby sweater is done, perhaps there will be more attention for this?
And, lastly, I have just begun a little white sweater for Anna. There was a fair bit of confusion surrounding this project since I didn't think I'd be able to get the pattern I wanted, so I got another pattern, then I ordered yarn for the second pattern, found the pattern I had preferred at first, recieved the yarn I'd ordered for the second pattern which turned out to be more off-white than I wanted, so I took my First Pattern and just bought some white Cascade 220. For Lord's sake, I've had enough. And she probably won't wear ANY of the sweaters I knit her anyway. I'll have some pictures of this eventually, when there's enough to photograph. At this point you'd only have a nice picture of some white Cascade yarn with my Addi circular needles. I've finished about two inches.
I've also, at Rachel's insistance, begun reading Depletion and Abundance. I was aprehensive at first, because I have enough stress in my life already, for Lord's sake, but it turns out to be a better read than I had anticipated. However, it may yet leave me wanting to stick my head in the oven, but reluctant to do so because the energy usage would be so bad for the environment. I'll keep you posted on that, too.
Looking at this list of knitting projects it occurs to me that I have way too much free time. I am properly ashamed of myself, I assure you. Maybe I'll only knit a few rounds on Dad Edstrom's Christmas present before hanging out the laundry and only a couple of rows on Anna's sweater before making lunch.
My dear Rachel came over yesterday and brought us some zucchini bread that she had baked in her tiny little kitchen. We ate it today for snack and I marveled again that something so tasty could come from something like the humble zucchini.
Rachel is an art specialist in the public schools and so she also did an art lesson with the kids. They drew things like lions and rabbits, houses and people. During their lesson I kept thinking, "Look! You're being enriched! We're having Enrichment Activities!" And after that I took the kids to their swimming lesson. I can't tell you how suburban this makes me feel. When I was growing up in the country our 'activities' basically consisted of weeding the garden, avoiding work, and learning how to shoot a gun. My kids are so soft. Thomas doesn't even know how to pluck a chicken.
In any case, there was some interest expressed in what I've been knitting this summer. Here's a brief synopsis:
Socks. Socks for ME! For a change.
I used Stephanie Pearl-McPhee's Basic Sock Recipe from her book Knitting Rules. Bless that woman's heart. With that book I can knit anything, without a pattern. I used Ty-Dy sock yarn from the Knit One Crochet Too company. I don't know how it will wear, but it is the softest yarn ever. I'm not usually a sucker for The Soft, but this was like knitting with water. And I really love the colors.
I am also knitting a Baby Albert for little Henry (who by the way is not so little any more--little giant, more like). This photo doesn't do the yarn any favors. It's a very rich, jewel-tone blue and green. The green is more of a yellow-green than a blue-green and is much richer. It's the best picture I could get, sadly enough. It's a schooshy merino wool that I bought at Shepherd's Harvest Sheep and Wool festival. I wonder how it will wear, but only time will tell. It was dyed by a local woman who had an amazing palette. I'd give you her contact info, but her etsy shop has been empty since the festival.
I've also finished a February Baby sweater (another) for a friend who is epecting her sixth intallment in September. I've started working on a matching hat, but who knows when that will be finished?
I've ALSO started a Christmas surprise for my father-in-law. I think he lurks here so that knitting project will have to be under wraps for the time being. I was lamenting to my mom that whenever you knit a gift it doesn't LOOK like anything. The yarn itself could cost $20 or more, plus all of your free time for weeks and weeks, but in the end all you have is a pair of mittens or socks or a hat to show for it. Oh, well. It's the thought that counts, right?
I've ALSO started a project for my mother-in-law. This one is a little more difficult since it involves lace and therefore requires more attention and concentration. I'm not sure it will be done in time. Can you believe it? Six months in advance and I'm still not sure. But now that the lace baby sweater is done, perhaps there will be more attention for this?
And, lastly, I have just begun a little white sweater for Anna. There was a fair bit of confusion surrounding this project since I didn't think I'd be able to get the pattern I wanted, so I got another pattern, then I ordered yarn for the second pattern, found the pattern I had preferred at first, recieved the yarn I'd ordered for the second pattern which turned out to be more off-white than I wanted, so I took my First Pattern and just bought some white Cascade 220. For Lord's sake, I've had enough. And she probably won't wear ANY of the sweaters I knit her anyway. I'll have some pictures of this eventually, when there's enough to photograph. At this point you'd only have a nice picture of some white Cascade yarn with my Addi circular needles. I've finished about two inches.
I've also, at Rachel's insistance, begun reading Depletion and Abundance. I was aprehensive at first, because I have enough stress in my life already, for Lord's sake, but it turns out to be a better read than I had anticipated. However, it may yet leave me wanting to stick my head in the oven, but reluctant to do so because the energy usage would be so bad for the environment. I'll keep you posted on that, too.
Looking at this list of knitting projects it occurs to me that I have way too much free time. I am properly ashamed of myself, I assure you. Maybe I'll only knit a few rounds on Dad Edstrom's Christmas present before hanging out the laundry and only a couple of rows on Anna's sweater before making lunch.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Countdown
My brother's in the army. Have I ever told you that?
Technically, he's a full-time supply sargent in the National Guard, but I guess that's army enough, so I'll just say he's in the army. I'm not very familiar with the world of the military so you'll have to forgive me any slip-ups in jargon or understanding for a little while. I know enough to know that BDUs are not underpants and that they are tan now instead of green.
In a week he'll be leaving for a chunk of training so he'll be ready to go to Iraq. We've known about it for a while, but I haven't wanted to say anthing for two reasons: 1) I hoped the government would changed its mind about sending him and 2) my brother tends to be rather reserved and I often say too much of the wrong thing where he's concerned.
But he's going now, so he'll have to wait a year to lecture me if he doesn't like what I say.
I don't hate that he's going and I understand why he'd want to go. I wish he'd picked a job as a dentist or an insurance adjuster instead, but I've long ago realized that he is a different person from me.
He is reserved to a fault (I'm really glad he told me he was leaving ahead of time instead of just sending me a postcard from Dubai) so he doesn't always tell me the stories of things that he's done or seen. One of the hardest things about this deployment (ha! I do know some military words.) is that he will be adding another layer to his life that he won't talk about.
I wish I could go with him and see the things he sees, but the chances are very good that I would only get him in trouble by saying or doing something stupid. I hope he tells me about his time there, though.
He's going with his best friend and this makes me feel so much better. I am so glad that he won't be there alone. I felt this way when he got married--I was so glad that he had someone who would know when he was sick and who would make sure he took care of himself.
So, we're doing the countdown now. I'd like to see him before he leaves, but my dad said that we shouldn't make a big deal out of it because it would just make it harder on him. I'm sure he's right, but I think it will be hard for him either way and I'd like to shake his hand before he goes. I know he's just doing his job, but it's a brave thing and I'd like him to know that I respect what he does. At the very least I'd like to offer him some advice. Like never go with a strange man on a camel, even if he does offer you lentils.
Well, I'm sure that this will all be over soon and that in thirty years or so it will all be a distant memory. I'm sure that I can be a big girl for a year. I know that at least a couple of you have had loved ones deployed for long periods of time. Is there any advice you would give him as he prepares to leave?
Technically, he's a full-time supply sargent in the National Guard, but I guess that's army enough, so I'll just say he's in the army. I'm not very familiar with the world of the military so you'll have to forgive me any slip-ups in jargon or understanding for a little while. I know enough to know that BDUs are not underpants and that they are tan now instead of green.
In a week he'll be leaving for a chunk of training so he'll be ready to go to Iraq. We've known about it for a while, but I haven't wanted to say anthing for two reasons: 1) I hoped the government would changed its mind about sending him and 2) my brother tends to be rather reserved and I often say too much of the wrong thing where he's concerned.
But he's going now, so he'll have to wait a year to lecture me if he doesn't like what I say.
I don't hate that he's going and I understand why he'd want to go. I wish he'd picked a job as a dentist or an insurance adjuster instead, but I've long ago realized that he is a different person from me.
He is reserved to a fault (I'm really glad he told me he was leaving ahead of time instead of just sending me a postcard from Dubai) so he doesn't always tell me the stories of things that he's done or seen. One of the hardest things about this deployment (ha! I do know some military words.) is that he will be adding another layer to his life that he won't talk about.
I wish I could go with him and see the things he sees, but the chances are very good that I would only get him in trouble by saying or doing something stupid. I hope he tells me about his time there, though.
He's going with his best friend and this makes me feel so much better. I am so glad that he won't be there alone. I felt this way when he got married--I was so glad that he had someone who would know when he was sick and who would make sure he took care of himself.
So, we're doing the countdown now. I'd like to see him before he leaves, but my dad said that we shouldn't make a big deal out of it because it would just make it harder on him. I'm sure he's right, but I think it will be hard for him either way and I'd like to shake his hand before he goes. I know he's just doing his job, but it's a brave thing and I'd like him to know that I respect what he does. At the very least I'd like to offer him some advice. Like never go with a strange man on a camel, even if he does offer you lentils.
Well, I'm sure that this will all be over soon and that in thirty years or so it will all be a distant memory. I'm sure that I can be a big girl for a year. I know that at least a couple of you have had loved ones deployed for long periods of time. Is there any advice you would give him as he prepares to leave?
Monday, April 27, 2009
Transitions
It's been a month of transitions. We've moved from Psuedo-Spring, which is only spring because it is Less Wintery outside, to Real Spring. We've moved from Preemie Baby to Real Baby. We've moved from Hermits Entrenched to Errand Runners. We're actually getting out and seeing people. Henry has discovered that there is a world outside of our house and he seems to find it rather shocking.
We went to the NICU reunion last Sunday. I think it's the hospital's way of letting parents know that it is really, truly OK to bring your babies out among people now since RSV season is over. I think that for many parents it was the first time they were able to show their babies off. I met two of the moms I was on the ante-partum unit with at the hospital. Their babies looked amazing. I hadn't seen one of the babies since he was next door to Henry at the NICU. You can imagine how he's changed! There's a big difference between a four pound baby and a 14 pound baby.
Now that spring has come and our worries about RSV have passed (for this season, anyway--and you can just shut up about swine flu because I'm not listening)I'm starting to feel like Henry is a normal baby. I am still washing my hands like a crazed raccoon, but perhaps with less OCD frenzy. We can go out, have people come over, and let the older two kids mingle freely with other children. Normal. Sigh. Now I can start obsessing over how little sleep we're getting.
Now for the pictures.
Thomas has this crazy, over-the-top affectionate personality. When he loves you, he loves you more than anyone has ever loved you and when he hugs you, he hugs you more than you have ever been hugged before. He hugs Henry like this every day. Every time he does it we have to remind him that we hug and then we release. Don't lay on him, Thomas. I don't know that he'll ever figure out how to give a normal hug. He reminds me of that character in the movie Tommy Boy. "Brothers don't shake hands; Brothers gotta HUG!"
Here's a handsome kid. He looks like me. Only cute. And unbeatably five years old. Don't play this kid in checkers unless you're ready to get schooled. He plays with the big boys.
And now, Anna. I realized as I was going through my copious digital pile of photos that I need to take more pictures of Anna. She's finally figured out how to pedal a bike. I took a few photos of her demonstrating her new skill. In every one of the pictures she looks like her grandmothers. How odd to see them looking so young!
Henry's baptism is scheduled for Mother's Day. I am overwhelmed that we have made it this far. When I think of where we started last year in July, to Henry's birth at the end of August, I have to hold my breath when I realize how far we have come. We've come to this Spring by the seat of our pants, but we've made it and I'm glad.
Here's Henry with his auntie. He finds her both fascinating and alarming. Most of us do, too.
Before Thomas was born, Rachel was adamant about NOT being called 'Auntie'. So, of course, we called her 'Auntie Rachel'. But after seeing her beautiful nephew, she quit caring. Spoiled all our fun. Here she is with her newest nephew, Henry.
Henry is now practicing sitting on his own. He does pretty well. I cannot wait until this kid can amuse himself. I'll be really excited about it until I find out exactly what he finds amusing. Then I'll wish he would just sit still again.
And now, Anna. I realized as I was going through my copious digital pile of photos that I need to take more pictures of Anna. She's finally figured out how to pedal a bike. I took a few photos of her demonstrating her new skill. In every one of the pictures she looks like her grandmothers. How odd to see them looking so young!
Henry's baptism is scheduled for Mother's Day. I am overwhelmed that we have made it this far. When I think of where we started last year in July, to Henry's birth at the end of August, I have to hold my breath when I realize how far we have come. We've come to this Spring by the seat of our pants, but we've made it and I'm glad.We took a few pictures of Henry when he was in the NICU. I didn't share many of them here because they are so complicated to look at. On one hand they are so sad. There is this small, frail baby hanging on to life surrounded by breathing equipment, IV tubes, monitors, buttons and plastic. But at the same time, he is so fragile and so lovely and so tough. His ability to come through these challenges is so amazing. I'm thinking of posting them some time so that you can see how far he has come. I look at them and I am sad, but I'm also amazed at what people can come through when they are loved and cared for.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Baby Toys
It's been a busy week here at The Little House and I've certainly had my hands full. Too full. Henry has had a cold and I strongly suspect that he's working on an ear infection. He has been cranky and awake and I haven't gotten a single thing done all week. I'm looking forward to next week being much nicer since a virus simply can't last forever. So, I'll sip my whiskey and soda and dream sweet dreams of Next Week.
There's been something that's come up in my world that has really put a burr in my underpants. Needless to say, I've been unsettled in my mind and I've had a hard time putting it aside and moving past it. I'm not someone who spends time being upset in any meaningful way and so this has been something of a shock to my system. Of course, I can't talk about it, not to anyone, and I REALLY can't post about it on the INTERNET so it has been my burden to carry. I've been praying for peace and for my mind to be at rest, but it has been hard.
But I'll move on now to something I can write about. I want to hear what you have to say about Baby Toys. I was playing with Henry the other day and it occurred to me that he would be out-growing his baby toys soon ('soon' being a relative term) and that I would have to figure out what to do with them.
Most of them I don't care a whit about, but I was surprised to discover that I have a pretty strong attachment to some of them. My memories of the children playing with one toy or another are so strong that I cannot imagine parting with that toy. To get rid of it seems to be getting rid of a tangible part of my memories of The Babies that I don't know how I'm going to do it. I know that most moms have boxes (and boxes?) of impedimenta of their children's babyhood. I am just not sure that I want to keep lots of old things in boxes. I doubt very much that any of my kids are going to grow up and want any of it so I'll be keeping it mostly out of sentiment.
In the past I have taken pictures of things like my old stuffed animals so I could keep the memory and still let go of the item, but I'm not sure that technique is going to work for this situation. I'm wondering what you do? What do you keep? What do you give away? What do you throw away?
In the meantime, I made sure to take a picture of Henry playing with one of my favorite baby toys of all time.
I think it's called a Whoozit. I bought it for Thomas when he was a baby because he HATED being in the carseat with a red hot fury. I found that the only way I could keep him happy was with toys--lots of toys--or he would scream, scream, scream for however long it would take to drive some place. I would pile baby toys in the passenger seat next to me and whenever he would fuss I would toss another toy into the back to keep him happy. This toy was great. It has lots of loops for little fingers to grab onto so it was easy to hold and would keep him happy for quite a while. All of the kids have enjoyed it. I look at it and it brings back those early months of parenting like nothing else. For better or worse, I suppose!
There's been something that's come up in my world that has really put a burr in my underpants. Needless to say, I've been unsettled in my mind and I've had a hard time putting it aside and moving past it. I'm not someone who spends time being upset in any meaningful way and so this has been something of a shock to my system. Of course, I can't talk about it, not to anyone, and I REALLY can't post about it on the INTERNET so it has been my burden to carry. I've been praying for peace and for my mind to be at rest, but it has been hard.
But I'll move on now to something I can write about. I want to hear what you have to say about Baby Toys. I was playing with Henry the other day and it occurred to me that he would be out-growing his baby toys soon ('soon' being a relative term) and that I would have to figure out what to do with them.
Most of them I don't care a whit about, but I was surprised to discover that I have a pretty strong attachment to some of them. My memories of the children playing with one toy or another are so strong that I cannot imagine parting with that toy. To get rid of it seems to be getting rid of a tangible part of my memories of The Babies that I don't know how I'm going to do it. I know that most moms have boxes (and boxes?) of impedimenta of their children's babyhood. I am just not sure that I want to keep lots of old things in boxes. I doubt very much that any of my kids are going to grow up and want any of it so I'll be keeping it mostly out of sentiment.
In the past I have taken pictures of things like my old stuffed animals so I could keep the memory and still let go of the item, but I'm not sure that technique is going to work for this situation. I'm wondering what you do? What do you keep? What do you give away? What do you throw away?
In the meantime, I made sure to take a picture of Henry playing with one of my favorite baby toys of all time.
I think it's called a Whoozit. I bought it for Thomas when he was a baby because he HATED being in the carseat with a red hot fury. I found that the only way I could keep him happy was with toys--lots of toys--or he would scream, scream, scream for however long it would take to drive some place. I would pile baby toys in the passenger seat next to me and whenever he would fuss I would toss another toy into the back to keep him happy. This toy was great. It has lots of loops for little fingers to grab onto so it was easy to hold and would keep him happy for quite a while. All of the kids have enjoyed it. I look at it and it brings back those early months of parenting like nothing else. For better or worse, I suppose!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Looking For Spring: Random Thursday
We've been quiet here at Chez Sarah these days. Mostly we're hanging on, waiting for winter to finally end. We've had some days that looked promising, but I have a feeling we're going to get whipped back into winter in another week.
It was 40 degrees today and I was in my garage, spray painting a headboard for Anna's Big Girl Bed. Anna was dressed in her hat, coat, mittens, and rain pants. I was chilly in a long sleeve shirt and some bib overalls that I swear used to fit me when I was in college. She was running up and down our driveway, describing to me in detail everything she was doing and everything she saw. She came up the driveway and went around the corner of the garage where the rain gutters leak onto the walkway to the house. I heard a muffled cry and I put the spray can down to see what had happened. Anna was sitting on the wet ice with her legs bent every which way. I asked her if she was hurt and she sighed and said no. As I was helping her up and over the thick ice she said, "I'm tired of the Slippery Season, Mommy."
I know, Honey. I know.
The headboard isn't going to work out, by the way. I had it all painted and put up in Anna's room when I came upstairs to make up the bed. I guess it had been too wet or too cold when I painted it because the paint was coming off in big flakes. The paint can says that it should be warmer than 50 degrees with lower-than-raining humidity for the paint to work best. I guess that means I have to wait until JUNE before I'm allowed to spray paint anything. I love living in Minnesota, but LORD the weather is discouraging.
Another random Bit of Nothing: A week ago or so we were having another one of these strange half-thaw sorts of days and I sent the kids out to play. A day later the Twin Cities was hit with a heavy snowstorm that landed inches and inches of snow within a few hours. I was so glad I had kicked their butts outside when the weather was nice until I heard Peter getting them dressed up to go play in the fresh snow.
"Where are your yarn mittens?"
"Outside."
"Outside? Where did you leave them outside?"
"I don't know. By the tree?"
We look helplessly out the window at the SEVEN INCHES of fresh snow that lay on the ground where only mud and ice had been the day before.
Some days I'm not sure God really meant for people to live here, but that doesn't stop us from trying.
It was 40 degrees today and I was in my garage, spray painting a headboard for Anna's Big Girl Bed. Anna was dressed in her hat, coat, mittens, and rain pants. I was chilly in a long sleeve shirt and some bib overalls that I swear used to fit me when I was in college. She was running up and down our driveway, describing to me in detail everything she was doing and everything she saw. She came up the driveway and went around the corner of the garage where the rain gutters leak onto the walkway to the house. I heard a muffled cry and I put the spray can down to see what had happened. Anna was sitting on the wet ice with her legs bent every which way. I asked her if she was hurt and she sighed and said no. As I was helping her up and over the thick ice she said, "I'm tired of the Slippery Season, Mommy."
I know, Honey. I know.
The headboard isn't going to work out, by the way. I had it all painted and put up in Anna's room when I came upstairs to make up the bed. I guess it had been too wet or too cold when I painted it because the paint was coming off in big flakes. The paint can says that it should be warmer than 50 degrees with lower-than-raining humidity for the paint to work best. I guess that means I have to wait until JUNE before I'm allowed to spray paint anything. I love living in Minnesota, but LORD the weather is discouraging.
Another random Bit of Nothing: A week ago or so we were having another one of these strange half-thaw sorts of days and I sent the kids out to play. A day later the Twin Cities was hit with a heavy snowstorm that landed inches and inches of snow within a few hours. I was so glad I had kicked their butts outside when the weather was nice until I heard Peter getting them dressed up to go play in the fresh snow.
"Where are your yarn mittens?"
"Outside."
"Outside? Where did you leave them outside?"
"I don't know. By the tree?"
We look helplessly out the window at the SEVEN INCHES of fresh snow that lay on the ground where only mud and ice had been the day before.
Some days I'm not sure God really meant for people to live here, but that doesn't stop us from trying.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Grieve
I knew from the beginning that Henry might be my last baby. Apart from having high-risk pregnancies and harrowing deliveries, we felt like three children would be a good fit for our family. We hadn't decided for certain, though, and had planned on leaving the door open for a couple of years to see if we might find that our family had room for another child after all.
After our misadventures this summer, however, it would be irresponsible to take the risk of becoming pregnant again. It was a miracle that I stayed pregnant for so long after my water broke. And I don't say that lightly.
What happened for Henry came very close to being very bad. I can't imagine how this could have ended differently and still have been "okay", even though it has been difficult to go through. The decision has been made for us, it would seem. And even though I knew from the beginning that this could be my last go at having a baby, I find that the idea makes me pretty sad.
I wonder if women are always a little sad, or wistful, when it becomes apparent that they've had their last fuzzy headed baby. A friend from college was one of 13 children and when her youngest brother was three, it became clear to her mom that this would likely be her last child. And she was sad. After 13 babies, one whould think that she would be a little relieved to close the door on nighttime feedings and toilet training, but I also think I understand. Of some things, there is never enough. How could you ever have enough of that warm little weight snuggled on your chest, fluffy baby hair rubbed against your nose? After three or thirteen children, it is still the End and I guess you always wonder who that "One More" child would have been.
I certainly feel the loss of the healthy pregnancies and babies that most women expect to have. I try not to think about it too much because it just upsets me and I'm not sure there's anything to be gained by getting angry or sad or feeling like I've been cheated. It is what it is and I'm satisfied by the good outcomes my babies have had. But I need to let go of the fourth baby I felt entitled to choose along with the healthy pregnancies and the robust newborns and the carefree cold/flu season.
It will be a long process, one that starts with moving my baby girl clothing out of storage and into the home of someone who can use it. I walk by those tubs in the basement marked "Girl: 0-6 months" and I know that they will have to go. If you loose your left leg, do you still keep the left shoe when you buy a new pair? There won't be another girl to save it for and I find it as unnecessary as the proverbial left shoe.
It should go, and it will. But not yet. Most of it will likely get saved for my sister in law Rachel, but I am strongly repressing the urge to give it to my friends who have baby girls already. I love seeing the hand-me-downs running around on little ones and it might be too much to have to wait for Rachel to have a baby (who may have only boys!).
Having the choice made for me is one part blessing, another part burden. I'm not sure which has the greater share. After some distance from the events of the summer I'll be able to close this door with greater clarity and peace. I think I'm looking forward to that.
After our misadventures this summer, however, it would be irresponsible to take the risk of becoming pregnant again. It was a miracle that I stayed pregnant for so long after my water broke. And I don't say that lightly.
What happened for Henry came very close to being very bad. I can't imagine how this could have ended differently and still have been "okay", even though it has been difficult to go through. The decision has been made for us, it would seem. And even though I knew from the beginning that this could be my last go at having a baby, I find that the idea makes me pretty sad.
I wonder if women are always a little sad, or wistful, when it becomes apparent that they've had their last fuzzy headed baby. A friend from college was one of 13 children and when her youngest brother was three, it became clear to her mom that this would likely be her last child. And she was sad. After 13 babies, one whould think that she would be a little relieved to close the door on nighttime feedings and toilet training, but I also think I understand. Of some things, there is never enough. How could you ever have enough of that warm little weight snuggled on your chest, fluffy baby hair rubbed against your nose? After three or thirteen children, it is still the End and I guess you always wonder who that "One More" child would have been.
I certainly feel the loss of the healthy pregnancies and babies that most women expect to have. I try not to think about it too much because it just upsets me and I'm not sure there's anything to be gained by getting angry or sad or feeling like I've been cheated. It is what it is and I'm satisfied by the good outcomes my babies have had. But I need to let go of the fourth baby I felt entitled to choose along with the healthy pregnancies and the robust newborns and the carefree cold/flu season.
It will be a long process, one that starts with moving my baby girl clothing out of storage and into the home of someone who can use it. I walk by those tubs in the basement marked "Girl: 0-6 months" and I know that they will have to go. If you loose your left leg, do you still keep the left shoe when you buy a new pair? There won't be another girl to save it for and I find it as unnecessary as the proverbial left shoe.
It should go, and it will. But not yet. Most of it will likely get saved for my sister in law Rachel, but I am strongly repressing the urge to give it to my friends who have baby girls already. I love seeing the hand-me-downs running around on little ones and it might be too much to have to wait for Rachel to have a baby (who may have only boys!).
Having the choice made for me is one part blessing, another part burden. I'm not sure which has the greater share. After some distance from the events of the summer I'll be able to close this door with greater clarity and peace. I think I'm looking forward to that.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Spinning Plates
We're having a quiet day at home today. We're trying to settle into some kind of familiar routine, despite having a battery of childcare helpers coming while I recover from Henry's c-section. Our kitchen is still torn up (and thus the whole house) from the remodel and nothing is where is should be, including the plumbing, and this is contributing to a sense of disruption. A quiet day at home together is just what we need.
Any surface appearance of normality is purely an illusion for me, though. Most of my family is here with me, but it's not the same as it was. It's strange how Henry has changed our family even though he's never been here with us. I don't think our family will be the same while he's still in the hospital.
I don't feel as torn and guilty about Henry's hospital stay as I did when it was Thomas spending his weeks in the NICU. But days like today when I could go to the hospital and spend time with Henry, but instead choose to stay home with the rest of my family are a terrible balancing act. I need to weigh Thomas and Anna's need for time with me against Henry's need to have me there with him, bringing him pumped milk, holding him skin-to-skin, and hearing my voice. I can't be at the hospital every day, especially not while I am depending on someone else to drive me there and pick me up. But today I am choosing to stay home. Peter could load the kids into the car, make the 25 minute drive to the hospital, bring everyone home and then reverse the process to pick me up in a few hours. But instead we are here, just hanging out.
We'll go tomorrow and I won't be able to go Tuesday. Wednesday I'll go, but I don't know what is happening on Thursday and Friday. And I don't know what will happen when my Helpers go back to their work and I'm home caring for Thomas and Anna again during the day. I'll most likely drive to the hospital in the evenings.
This will only last a few more weeks (Five more? Maybe?) before we are all able to be home together. I'm so glad I won't always have to make decisions about who needs me most. At least not every day.
Any surface appearance of normality is purely an illusion for me, though. Most of my family is here with me, but it's not the same as it was. It's strange how Henry has changed our family even though he's never been here with us. I don't think our family will be the same while he's still in the hospital.
I don't feel as torn and guilty about Henry's hospital stay as I did when it was Thomas spending his weeks in the NICU. But days like today when I could go to the hospital and spend time with Henry, but instead choose to stay home with the rest of my family are a terrible balancing act. I need to weigh Thomas and Anna's need for time with me against Henry's need to have me there with him, bringing him pumped milk, holding him skin-to-skin, and hearing my voice. I can't be at the hospital every day, especially not while I am depending on someone else to drive me there and pick me up. But today I am choosing to stay home. Peter could load the kids into the car, make the 25 minute drive to the hospital, bring everyone home and then reverse the process to pick me up in a few hours. But instead we are here, just hanging out.
We'll go tomorrow and I won't be able to go Tuesday. Wednesday I'll go, but I don't know what is happening on Thursday and Friday. And I don't know what will happen when my Helpers go back to their work and I'm home caring for Thomas and Anna again during the day. I'll most likely drive to the hospital in the evenings.
This will only last a few more weeks (Five more? Maybe?) before we are all able to be home together. I'm so glad I won't always have to make decisions about who needs me most. At least not every day.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Week 26
I've finally hit one of the smaller milestones that the neonatal doctors like to see when you're on antepartum. Twenty-six weeks! At twenty-four or twenty-five they smile a little and say things like, "Well, the survival rates aren't so bad. . ." and then proceed to tell you not to go into labor for a couple more weeks. At twenty-six they start sounding a little more cheerful about your baby's prospects. I imagine that when we hit twenty-eight they might actually throw a party for me. But I need to remember not to get ahead of myself. Twenty-six. My baby is at twenty-six.
I had my weekly ultrasound today and the baby looked well. The screen showed my baby in black and white, clearly using his or her little diaphragm to practice breathing motions. I am very low on fluid since I spent the last two days leaking heavily. But the doctors don't seem too concerned since babies are continually making more fluid. I haven't leaked any fluid yet today so perhaps Baby Nuevo is working on building up more reserves. Despite the positive news, I'm getting tired of going through all of these tests alone. During a normal pregnancy, I have no problems going to the prenatal appointments by myself (if going with small children is really going by yourself), but now that things have taken a downturn, I wish I could have Peter here to be with me while I wait to find out how our baby is doing. I spend so much time alone and I am pretty good at it, but there are times when I really would like to have someone hold my hand. I'm not scared, much, and I'm not worried, most of the time. But I feel the lack of the comfort Peter brings to most situations.
All that said, I'm going to enjoy the small victory that two and a half weeks in the hospital has brought me. And I'm going to knit another baby hat.
I had my weekly ultrasound today and the baby looked well. The screen showed my baby in black and white, clearly using his or her little diaphragm to practice breathing motions. I am very low on fluid since I spent the last two days leaking heavily. But the doctors don't seem too concerned since babies are continually making more fluid. I haven't leaked any fluid yet today so perhaps Baby Nuevo is working on building up more reserves. Despite the positive news, I'm getting tired of going through all of these tests alone. During a normal pregnancy, I have no problems going to the prenatal appointments by myself (if going with small children is really going by yourself), but now that things have taken a downturn, I wish I could have Peter here to be with me while I wait to find out how our baby is doing. I spend so much time alone and I am pretty good at it, but there are times when I really would like to have someone hold my hand. I'm not scared, much, and I'm not worried, most of the time. But I feel the lack of the comfort Peter brings to most situations.
All that said, I'm going to enjoy the small victory that two and a half weeks in the hospital has brought me. And I'm going to knit another baby hat.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Week Two
I've been in the hospital on bed rest for two weeks now. I cannot believe it's been so long already. I cannot believe that I have so many weeks left to go. It's amazing that time can go so fast and still move so slowly.
My family seems to have settled into a schedule of care-providers with people coming on their regular days. As time moves on, I think the kids will be able to anticipate who will be taking care of them on a particular day. Thomas and Anna are excited to come visit me in the evenings and they seem happy enough when it is time to leave, though we do need to add the incentive of walking past the nursery window so they can see the new babies on the way to the car. Everything seems to be working out.
After two weeks in bed, hospital life (and food) is starting to loose its charm. The past two days have found me with moments of irritability and impatience. I am beginning to dislike waiting for people to do things for me. I've gotten over the awkwardness of having to call a nurse for a cup of water and now I'm occasionally grumpy because calling a nurse means I have to wait for something I used to be able to do for myself. I have more sympathy for small children who have to wait for someone to do almost everything for them. Oh, the convenience of fulfilling your own needs! At least I can use the bathroom on my own.
I am hoping this moodiness will pass. I find that being grumpy only makes me more irritable since this attitude is unfamiliar to me. I just want to be my normal, cheerful self.
I am very good at entertaining myself. I have at hand any number of ways to amuse myself including the internet and email, my knitting, and a couple of good books. The TV is little help. It would be worthless if it didn't come with a DVD player. However, after two weeks in bed, I am occasionally finding myself at loose ends for something to do. I'll lay on my side, looking out the window, wishing for something new to brighten my day. Visitors help a great deal, particularly those who are able to come during the day. I have been lucky that I have only had a couple days when I've had no visitors at all. Those were long days indeed, but most days I see Peter and the kids for an hour or so in the evenings. I think the best days are when Rachel or my friend Kate have been able to come for longer visits. I'm not sick so visitors don't tire me out like they would if I were unwell.
So all that is left is to wait. I am always thinking ahead to that future date when this baby will be delivered and we will be able to go home again. I have mid-September fixed in my mind as my goal, though I know that for me at least it could be sooner. I would love it if my baby could go home with me, but I don't see that this could happen. Part of the challenge is not knowing when I can expect the end to come or what it will look like for the baby when it finally gets here. It's almost like Alfred Hitchcock wrote my script for the next few weeks.
I think that the only thing for it is to find another hobby. Rock collecting and metal detecting are out, of course. Figure skating won't do, either. Any ideas?
My family seems to have settled into a schedule of care-providers with people coming on their regular days. As time moves on, I think the kids will be able to anticipate who will be taking care of them on a particular day. Thomas and Anna are excited to come visit me in the evenings and they seem happy enough when it is time to leave, though we do need to add the incentive of walking past the nursery window so they can see the new babies on the way to the car. Everything seems to be working out.
After two weeks in bed, hospital life (and food) is starting to loose its charm. The past two days have found me with moments of irritability and impatience. I am beginning to dislike waiting for people to do things for me. I've gotten over the awkwardness of having to call a nurse for a cup of water and now I'm occasionally grumpy because calling a nurse means I have to wait for something I used to be able to do for myself. I have more sympathy for small children who have to wait for someone to do almost everything for them. Oh, the convenience of fulfilling your own needs! At least I can use the bathroom on my own.
I am hoping this moodiness will pass. I find that being grumpy only makes me more irritable since this attitude is unfamiliar to me. I just want to be my normal, cheerful self.
I am very good at entertaining myself. I have at hand any number of ways to amuse myself including the internet and email, my knitting, and a couple of good books. The TV is little help. It would be worthless if it didn't come with a DVD player. However, after two weeks in bed, I am occasionally finding myself at loose ends for something to do. I'll lay on my side, looking out the window, wishing for something new to brighten my day. Visitors help a great deal, particularly those who are able to come during the day. I have been lucky that I have only had a couple days when I've had no visitors at all. Those were long days indeed, but most days I see Peter and the kids for an hour or so in the evenings. I think the best days are when Rachel or my friend Kate have been able to come for longer visits. I'm not sick so visitors don't tire me out like they would if I were unwell.
So all that is left is to wait. I am always thinking ahead to that future date when this baby will be delivered and we will be able to go home again. I have mid-September fixed in my mind as my goal, though I know that for me at least it could be sooner. I would love it if my baby could go home with me, but I don't see that this could happen. Part of the challenge is not knowing when I can expect the end to come or what it will look like for the baby when it finally gets here. It's almost like Alfred Hitchcock wrote my script for the next few weeks.
I think that the only thing for it is to find another hobby. Rock collecting and metal detecting are out, of course. Figure skating won't do, either. Any ideas?
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Short List
I'm still pregnant! And I've hit the 25 week mark. Good news, indeed, though there is still a very long way to go.
I was brushing my teeth this morning and it occurred to me that I could be brushing my teeth at that hospital sink for the next two months. For some reason it struck me as an impossible amount of time. I can imagine being here through the weekend, but it seems amazing to think of how long I could be here by the time the baby arrives. I suppose if I were to spend that whole time brushing my teeth it would seem longer than it has to. Oral health is important, but you could carry a good thing too far.
In any case, I bring an offering to you today. Peter came by last night for a visit and we had a chance to compile a Short List of potential baby names for the Peanut. I'll preface this list by saying that Peter is an impossible person to name babies with. He usually rejects most names and of the names he'll agree to add to "The List", many of those don't make a second cut. But then, if I bring a previously rejected name to the table a second time, he'll profess an affection for it and it will be put on the list. Naming children with Peter is not for the faint of heart. Luckily, I think our situation is sitting heavily on him so he was able to put himself to the task of sorting names with more seriousness. We have an uncertain amount of time to fool around with this. I think that we may have an actual list.
So without further ado:
Baby Names
Girls
Nora (I've loved this name for a long time and I think Peter might finally be warming to it)
Eleanor (gotta love the historical/fictional background)
June (this is Peter's favorite, I think)
Charlotte
Beatrice (nothing cuter than a little girl called "Bea")
Boys
Henry
Carl
Joseph (I have some concerns about having a Thomas and a Joe--one full name and one nickname, but if we go with it, I don't think that the asymmetry will bring the house down)
Leo (a previously rejected name that Peter now likes. we have some friends with a Theo, but I think this will be ok)
So, I feel better now. Even if I don't have a lot of time left to ponder these names, at least we'll have something manageable to choose from. Certainly it's better than 35,000 Names for Your Baby. However, I think that I still have a few weeks to consider my possibilities. With so many people remembering me in their prayers, how can I have anything but hope?
I was brushing my teeth this morning and it occurred to me that I could be brushing my teeth at that hospital sink for the next two months. For some reason it struck me as an impossible amount of time. I can imagine being here through the weekend, but it seems amazing to think of how long I could be here by the time the baby arrives. I suppose if I were to spend that whole time brushing my teeth it would seem longer than it has to. Oral health is important, but you could carry a good thing too far.
In any case, I bring an offering to you today. Peter came by last night for a visit and we had a chance to compile a Short List of potential baby names for the Peanut. I'll preface this list by saying that Peter is an impossible person to name babies with. He usually rejects most names and of the names he'll agree to add to "The List", many of those don't make a second cut. But then, if I bring a previously rejected name to the table a second time, he'll profess an affection for it and it will be put on the list. Naming children with Peter is not for the faint of heart. Luckily, I think our situation is sitting heavily on him so he was able to put himself to the task of sorting names with more seriousness. We have an uncertain amount of time to fool around with this. I think that we may have an actual list.
So without further ado:
Baby Names
Girls
Nora (I've loved this name for a long time and I think Peter might finally be warming to it)
Eleanor (gotta love the historical/fictional background)
June (this is Peter's favorite, I think)
Charlotte
Beatrice (nothing cuter than a little girl called "Bea")
Boys
Henry
Carl
Joseph (I have some concerns about having a Thomas and a Joe--one full name and one nickname, but if we go with it, I don't think that the asymmetry will bring the house down)
Leo (a previously rejected name that Peter now likes. we have some friends with a Theo, but I think this will be ok)
So, I feel better now. Even if I don't have a lot of time left to ponder these names, at least we'll have something manageable to choose from. Certainly it's better than 35,000 Names for Your Baby. However, I think that I still have a few weeks to consider my possibilities. With so many people remembering me in their prayers, how can I have anything but hope?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Bring Home Baby List
I have been gradually realizing over the past few days that I am not ready for a new baby yet. Surprised? Don't misunderstand me--I have the little socks and sleepers and the infant car seat as well as a crib, tiny cloth diapers, and a changing pad. But I realized yesterday that nothing is ready yet!
The baby clothes and diapers should be rewashed and brought upstairs, I still want to knit a baby hat for the wee one, and I really should get some long sleeve onsies and t-shirts (preemies use these a lot). This is a lot like the dream where you show up to prom in your nightgown. I'm trying not to panic because no matter when the baby is born there is likely to be at least a short stay in the NICU for him or her and I can prepare things then. But I still get a little worried because I'm not able to be home to do any of the preparations for our impending arrival now.
But all of the little chores that are on my Bring Home Baby list are nothing compared to the item at the top of this list, the only thing that really should be done before the baby is born. We need to pick out a name.
Sure, the cloth dipaers and little sleepers can wait. What does the kid need for the first few days besides a little gown and one pack of disposables? But right after your baby is born, the first thing the nurses ask is "So, does the little guy have a name yet?" Am I supposed to say NO? And then how long do you take to decide? What if a WEEK goes by and your baby still doesn't have a name? This is how kids get named "Precious" or "Goober".
I'm not even sure where to start. We've had a hard time getting even a modest list of names to materialize. Also, I'd like some time to think of a name and live with it for a while. I don't want to have the baby, name it Sparkle (hey! works for a boy OR a girl!) and realize a month later that Sparkle is a stripper's name. We've had the name Eleanor on the list for a while and I like it, but I don't know if I can live with it. Every day. Maybe I'll never get past the "old lady" feel it seems to carry around the edges. Beatrice poses some of the same problems. How about Penelope? There is so much I love about this name, but maybe it's too exotic for a child growing up in the Midwest. Or maybe it doesn't fit with Thomas and Anna's names. Thomas, Anna, and Penelope. Hmm. I am riddled with indecision. We have some names on the list, but there aren't any that jump up and grab my attention in a perfect, pearl-like way. The Boy List is another issue. Instead of a list of names I love 3/4 of the way, I have a list of NOTHING. Ok, we have two names, but, again, I love them 3/4 of the way.
So, what do you think? Want to help name a baby?
If you like, you can give me some of your ideas and in a couple of days I'll post a list of some of our picks. After that, we'll talk some more. It's a Baby Naming Summit Conference and you're all invited. You may dress informally.
If you'd like help with your suggestions, you should know that we like names that are more traditional. Kylee or Harlee probably won't make the cut. Despite the conservative nature of Thomas and Anna's names, we do like names that are more unusual like Beatrice, Penelope, Violet or Maeve. BUT, if it is unusual I like to avoid something that could end up being trendy-ish. This is a concern for me with Beatrice--could Beatrice, in five years, be the next Olivia, Sophia, or Amelia? All of this is subjective, I know, and I'll tell you now that we need more suggestions than less.
Thanks for your help! I hope I won't need to have a name ready for another 9-10 weeks still!
The baby clothes and diapers should be rewashed and brought upstairs, I still want to knit a baby hat for the wee one, and I really should get some long sleeve onsies and t-shirts (preemies use these a lot). This is a lot like the dream where you show up to prom in your nightgown. I'm trying not to panic because no matter when the baby is born there is likely to be at least a short stay in the NICU for him or her and I can prepare things then. But I still get a little worried because I'm not able to be home to do any of the preparations for our impending arrival now.
But all of the little chores that are on my Bring Home Baby list are nothing compared to the item at the top of this list, the only thing that really should be done before the baby is born. We need to pick out a name.
Sure, the cloth dipaers and little sleepers can wait. What does the kid need for the first few days besides a little gown and one pack of disposables? But right after your baby is born, the first thing the nurses ask is "So, does the little guy have a name yet?" Am I supposed to say NO? And then how long do you take to decide? What if a WEEK goes by and your baby still doesn't have a name? This is how kids get named "Precious" or "Goober".
I'm not even sure where to start. We've had a hard time getting even a modest list of names to materialize. Also, I'd like some time to think of a name and live with it for a while. I don't want to have the baby, name it Sparkle (hey! works for a boy OR a girl!) and realize a month later that Sparkle is a stripper's name. We've had the name Eleanor on the list for a while and I like it, but I don't know if I can live with it. Every day. Maybe I'll never get past the "old lady" feel it seems to carry around the edges. Beatrice poses some of the same problems. How about Penelope? There is so much I love about this name, but maybe it's too exotic for a child growing up in the Midwest. Or maybe it doesn't fit with Thomas and Anna's names. Thomas, Anna, and Penelope. Hmm. I am riddled with indecision. We have some names on the list, but there aren't any that jump up and grab my attention in a perfect, pearl-like way. The Boy List is another issue. Instead of a list of names I love 3/4 of the way, I have a list of NOTHING. Ok, we have two names, but, again, I love them 3/4 of the way.
So, what do you think? Want to help name a baby?
If you like, you can give me some of your ideas and in a couple of days I'll post a list of some of our picks. After that, we'll talk some more. It's a Baby Naming Summit Conference and you're all invited. You may dress informally.
If you'd like help with your suggestions, you should know that we like names that are more traditional. Kylee or Harlee probably won't make the cut. Despite the conservative nature of Thomas and Anna's names, we do like names that are more unusual like Beatrice, Penelope, Violet or Maeve. BUT, if it is unusual I like to avoid something that could end up being trendy-ish. This is a concern for me with Beatrice--could Beatrice, in five years, be the next Olivia, Sophia, or Amelia? All of this is subjective, I know, and I'll tell you now that we need more suggestions than less.
Thanks for your help! I hope I won't need to have a name ready for another 9-10 weeks still!
Friday, July 18, 2008
Update
First of all, I want to thank you for all of your prayers and kind thoughts. When I get discouraged, I remember all of the people who are praying for me, my baby, and my family and it encourages me to know that so many people are surrounding us with their care.
I've waited to write anything more in hopes that I might have something more to share, but I'm afraid that life on the ante partum unit is not unlike life anywhere else. No news is good news. I'm still pregnant and the baby seems healthy. We can only wait and see where this is going. There is nothing I can do to help the situation other than to lie very, very still. All day. Every day. As much as I pity Peter's burden in all of this, I can bet you that he doesn't envy me a jot. I had been thinking of this as a version of Mommy Jail, but it occurred to me that even prisoners have recreation programs and physical fitness hours. I do have internet access, however, and someone to bring me water. I wager that the food is about the same, though.
So, here I am, trying to keep my spirits up and not spend too much time worrying about the baby or how things are going at home. Luckily, I know the kids are being well cared for by family and friends. They have been able to be with people they know and with whom they are comfortable. We are trying to keep them home most of the time, so that they can have some stability and structure to their lives. The person making them the peanut butter sandwich might change, but at least they will be home.
The great irony in this, of course, is that our kitchen is still set to be demolished on July 28th. So, even though they will be home, our house is going to change a great deal. At least they will be there to see the changes happen as the work progresses. It won't be too great a shock if they are there to watch and understand what is happening. I'm afraid that for me it will be more like falling asleep in the car and not knowing where I am when I wake up when I finally am able to go home again.
I've waited to write anything more in hopes that I might have something more to share, but I'm afraid that life on the ante partum unit is not unlike life anywhere else. No news is good news. I'm still pregnant and the baby seems healthy. We can only wait and see where this is going. There is nothing I can do to help the situation other than to lie very, very still. All day. Every day. As much as I pity Peter's burden in all of this, I can bet you that he doesn't envy me a jot. I had been thinking of this as a version of Mommy Jail, but it occurred to me that even prisoners have recreation programs and physical fitness hours. I do have internet access, however, and someone to bring me water. I wager that the food is about the same, though.
So, here I am, trying to keep my spirits up and not spend too much time worrying about the baby or how things are going at home. Luckily, I know the kids are being well cared for by family and friends. They have been able to be with people they know and with whom they are comfortable. We are trying to keep them home most of the time, so that they can have some stability and structure to their lives. The person making them the peanut butter sandwich might change, but at least they will be home.
The great irony in this, of course, is that our kitchen is still set to be demolished on July 28th. So, even though they will be home, our house is going to change a great deal. At least they will be there to see the changes happen as the work progresses. It won't be too great a shock if they are there to watch and understand what is happening. I'm afraid that for me it will be more like falling asleep in the car and not knowing where I am when I wake up when I finally am able to go home again.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Post With a Hundred Titles
During the last two days I have come up with at least a couple of dozen titles for this post I'm going to write, but none of them seemed very fitting. The last couple of days have ranked among the worst I've ever lived through and there's just no way to sum it up into a leading title.
I'm not quite 24 weeks pregnant yet and on Monday my water broke. Not even my Irish gallows humor was able to stand up to the seriousness of the situation as Peter and I went to the hospital to have the situation assessed. It was obvious that my water had broken--I had a ruptured membrane with Thomas at 31 weeks (though he didn't deliver until 32) and my water broke with Anna at 37 weeks. But this was so entirely unexpected that I didn't know what to make of it at first. My water broke? really? We drove to the hospital and I knew that there was really nothing they could do. I'd been down this road before with Thomas--the early delivery, the weeks in the NICU, learning to care for a premature baby. I knew what was involved with babies born at 32 weeks and I had a very good idea of what the NICU experience would look like for a baby born earlier, if the baby lived at all.
I lay on the bed as the nurse hooked me up to the fetal monitors. I couldn't breathe and all I could think was "What are we going to tell the kids?" I was so mad at my stupid, broken body. Why couldn't I grow a membrane like other women? Why do my pregnancies always have to be like this? I was about to loose a perfectly good, healthy baby because my body didn't know how to carry babies.
I don't remember what happened next, but I was wheeled down the hall into a labor & delivery room they use to stabilize their pre-term labor patients. They did the tests they do in situations like this and hooked me up to antibiotics in case of infection and magnesium sulfate in case of contractions. They hooked up the fetal monitors and called in the specialists. They wheeled in an ultrasound machine and they poked and prodded and then the neonatal specialists came in. There were IVs and so many things happening that it still makes my head spin. A doctor gave me run-down of what I could expect if I delivered at 24 weeks and then he talked about how that improved with every week the baby spent in the womb. One of the super-duper specialists came in, did the ultrasound, and very optimistically said that she expected me to keep the baby in for another 3-4 weeks, at least. I started being able to breath again. A very little.
The next day another specialist came in and gave an even more optimistic assessment when she informed me that they keep many women in my situation for months before delivering and that it wouldn't be unrealistic to expect me to be able to carry this baby to 32, even 34 weeks gestation. Rosy pictures, indeed.
All of this, of course, is barring any infections I might get with my water broken. I'm still not 24 weeks along yet and it is still so, so early. The survival rates at this point are 60-70%, which is good, but the difference between here and, say, 28 weeks, is the difference between our baby surviving and our baby doing well. And it is a long, long road between where I am tonight, sitting alone in a hospital room, and taking home a nearly full-term baby. I won't even think of all of the milestones I need to hit along the way--26 wks, 27 wks, 28 wks, 30 wks, 32 wks--all of which would still leave my baby in a very challenging position, if not as precarious as I had originally thought when I walked in the hospital doors.
Part of me is curled up inside, thinking of how powerfully difficult it was to care for a premature baby before, how I prayed to God to never let it happen again because I just didn't have the strength to go through it one more time. Then Anna came, beautifully full-term and as peaceful as a rose. We'll ignore the trauma of her emergency c-section for now because I thought that the NICU was far, far behind me. It was almost like I was healed.
Now here I am again, with the real possibility that it could not only happen again, but this time it could be much, much worse. My logic and reason is fried. I cannot make sense of this. But I do remember the grace I found in the middle of Thomas's situation. I remember how glad I was that he was born so strong and healthy, even if he was premature. I remember how the doctors and nurses warned me that he might not cry when he was born because his lungs might be weak and underdeveloped, but that when he was born he did cry, loud and mad. I remember how quickly he matured in the NICU and how he came home a whole week before anyone though he'd be able to. I remember the grace that was there. But it was grace in the middle of a horrible storm, certainly not a storm anyone would want to face twice.
And this situation, the extreme prematurity aside, has challenges I've only contemplated in the abstract. What would Peter do with the children if I weren't there? What would their lives look like without me to care for them? I'm the only one I want mothering my children, but now I can't do the simplest things for them. I am so far removed from their daily routine that I couldn't tell you what they ate for breakfast or lunch. Anna fell down and scraped her leg yesterday and I didn't get to put a Band-aid on her knee. These are small, trivial things, but so much of motherhood is made up of the small, care-taking tasks that I am at loose ends imagining what I can be to these small children without them. I worry that they will forget what it is like to have me caring for them; what it is like to have me around as a part of their lives. They come for short visits once a day, though tomorrow they won't make it to the hospital at all. They stay for an hour, maybe two if we watch some TV. We curl up in bed together and they run around the hospital room and make a ruckus. And then they're gone.
The boredom of bed rest is a challenge, to be sure. The physical difficulty of remaining in bed is going to be more and more apparent as the days and weeks (God be merciful!) roll on. But the thing I find hardest to bear is being away from my children, away from my family, and away from my home. I'm grieving the loss of what this pregnancy should have been as I try to come to terms with how my relationship to my kids will change as I miss these (hopefully!) months from their daily lives. I am slowly giving those months up as I reach for the hope that this baby I'm carrying will hang out a while longer in my womb. Much longer. I have no idea what the next few weeks will bring for me or my family, but I'm trying to be hopeful for the best outcome. I know that eventually, the children will adjust both to me being gone and to me returning home. I'm just praying with all the faith I have that God will hold back any infection so that He can finish knitting this baby together in my womb, where he or she is meant to be.
Wish me luck, and please pray with me. My bottom may forever resemble the bend of a hospital bed, but I'd gladly take that shape in order to have a healthy, strong 34 week baby and a short stay in the NICU. I'm just looking forward to the day when I can go home again and our family can be together.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Strawberry Shortcake
The last two weekends have been a lot of fun. We took the kids strawberry-picking and look at what we got:
Nearly 20 lbs of fresh, organic strawberries. How lucky am I? I don't know how many pounds of strawberries the kids ate in the field, but I do know they weren't very hungry for a while afterwards. I brought the berries home and spent some time cleaning and freezing them so, hurray! Strawberries in November!
As if this weren't enough, we went back last weekend with my parents and picked, oh, yes, another 10 lbs of strawberries. This time I froze some, but with the others my mom and I made this:
Two batches of strawberry jam. One for her, one for me. And it tastes as good as it looks. I pretty much want to roll around on top of a giant waffle covered with fresh jam. If I go pick some more berries, I may be able to.
I think Anna may want to join me.
Here's Thomas, contemplating The Berry:
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Mid-Point
So, here I am again at the Mid-Point of pregnancy. May I introduce you to Baby Number 3?
This baby is about 22-23 weeks along and seems to be doing very well. I look at this little picture and think that I am incredibly lucky and that I am so happy to be waiting for this wee one to be born. I'm still nervous about how a third baby will change the dynamics of our family, but I'm feeling more confident that things will be ok after we've adjusted to a new person in our home.
Baby Nuevo looks so peaceful. The baby's just resting there, playing his or her own games in peace. I'm listening to the rabble going on upstairs right now and I want to tell him or her to enjoy it while it lasts. There's little quiet time to be had in THIS house!
We don't know the gender yet--the anticipation builds--but I've still been doing a huge amount of knitting for the Wee Baby. I have three pairs of soakers (mostly) knit and a pair of Picky Pants waiting for elastic and another pair of Picky Pants on the needles. I've been trying out Peace Fleece for the first time and I like it a lot. I wish it had about 25 more yards per skein, but it has enough for me to be satisfied. I just wish there were a store nearby that sold it. The shipping on it is considerable.
I confess I bought a skein of green called Anna's Grasshopper. When it came in the mail, I saw the name printed on the label and I just about cried. If I were to have 100 children, would I always feel a little sad for the youngest child as I waited for the next to be born? Or am I just hopped up on pregnancy hormones to the point where even something like this would make me teary?
I'll leave you with a funny story from this morning. I went to the clinic this morning to get a shot [boring medical details omitted] and the nurse giving me my shot asked if we were going to be having more children. I told her that this was our last planned child and she remarked that I was a "baby making machine". I was so surprised! I think of the families I know who have 5, 6, 7 or more children and I wanted to say, "Lady, when it comes to baby making, I am totally an underachiever!" People never stop cracking me up!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
How Does Your Garden Grow
Today we got our first harvest from our new garden. Radishes. Thomas and Anna were so excited to be able to pick some real vegetables, even though Thomas doesn't like "spicy food". I pulled the radishes and handed them over our rabbit fence to Thomas who pulled off the tops for the compost. Anna walked around the yard chomping the radishes like apples. Who knew they came with a core? Personally, I'm just thrilled to see that I can grow things after all. I'm like a real farmer.
It's a beautiful, organic cotton baby hat that will be just right for a fuzzy baby head this winter. It came from Kristina over at Yarnsticks! It makes me glad that I live in such a snowy state. Knitted warmth would be much less satisfying if I lived in Texas. Thank you, Kristina! I am pretty excited about this pretty little hat.
In other news, see what came in the mail for the new baby?
It's a beautiful, organic cotton baby hat that will be just right for a fuzzy baby head this winter. It came from Kristina over at Yarnsticks! It makes me glad that I live in such a snowy state. Knitted warmth would be much less satisfying if I lived in Texas. Thank you, Kristina! I am pretty excited about this pretty little hat.Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Funniest Things
This weekend we went to visit my parents at their hobby farm. They live on seven acres just outside of a small town. While they have scaled back their garden quite a bit since my brother and I have grown, it is still sizable and provides most of their vegetables for the year (and a large portion of my family's vegetables as well).
We spent Father's Day doing things like scrubbing the dirt off of about 18 soaker hoses. When that particular job was done, I was walking Anna back to the house, past the garden. She exclaimed, pointing at the newly planted seedlings and sprouting plants, "Look! They have food sticking out of the ground!"
I'm still laughing to think of it. How strange the world must seem when you're two years old!
Friday, June 13, 2008
Groan
I've had a crampy, achy abdomen all morning today. Growing pains, I suppose.
I know I've been very busy washing and hanging out three loads of laundry, making a rare trip to Target, and dealing with two temperamental kids. I need to take a break, drink some water and lay down with my feet up. Just not having to mediate disagreements between two ornery young ones would be a great start towards getting this crampy feeling to stop.
I wish there was an on-call nanny service I could use for an hour or two.
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