Too Kind.

Recently I received a mysterious package in the mail when I was not expecting a package at all... aren't those the best kind?

Inside it, was a gorgeous quilt.

(Please excuse my hair... it's bigger than I can manage typically).
The quilt came from my dear Aunt Jacques. She is my mother's sister. Apparently, she reads this little blog and has a fondness for listening to me ramble on about whatever it is I feel like that day. Ridiculous!

I feel like the luckiest girl alive. And I'm not quite sure how to say thank you for such a generous gift.

I just love it so much!

Progress

Ever since learning that Lucas is the skinniest child on the planet, it has made me extremely paranoid about making sure that Libby is growing well.

This just in: she's doing fine.

She's 2.5 months old and I'm starting to get a little teary at her babyness instead of the infantness that I'm used to. She's become extremely interested in the world around her. 

She loves to munch on her tiny fists, and particularly enjoys time in the bouncy seat so that she can be more upright and lookin' around.

She's just about the cutest thing ever. We adore her.

Tangential funny story: I was nursing her whilst lying down on the couch. The boys were watching TV and I was secretly napping. Suddenly, Libby unlatches and starts crying. My eyes pop open and I see Lucas backing away from us. I look down at Libby and her ear is all wet. Pretty sure he was sucking on her ear while I slept/nursed and got a little carried away. Poor girl.

I really do feel badly, though, that I didn't learn to knit earlier. Libby's the benefactor of 99% of my knitting love. Tho, I did make these for my sister's kid. The other day while driving in the car, Abbie passed me a note that said something like, "Dear Mom, I love you soooo much! When are you going to knit me something?" Guilt trip much?

Anyway, I totally made Libby some summer pants.

I seriously can't get enough of this girl... unless it's 3am.

As Requested

This past Sunday, we took the opportunity to have Matt bless Libby at Church. Every other time we have blessed one of our children, my father has been present. Unfortunately, he was unable to be there this time, but that's okay. We had our Ward Family present and Matt was surrounded by a good group of his friends.  I think it was the first time I realized that we aren't a "Young Family" anymore. We have arrived. We are middle aged. Ick.

But this post wasn't supposed to be about that.

A billion years ago (or 8) when we blessed Abbie, my mother made her a very beautiful dress. Anna also wore that dress when she was blessed. But it's been six years since Anna was born and my style has changed drastically.  And my mother's skills have improved dramatically. So, when we found out we were having another girl, my mother offered to make a new blessing dress. I emphatically accepted.

Last week, this dress arrived.

Smocking! What seems like hundreds of French Knots.

Pintucking! Bullion Roses. All lovingly Hand Embroidered by my mother... who has terrible arthritis.

This is the hem. Inlaid lace, more hand embroidery, more rows of pintucks.  This dress is insane.
And I love it. And I love her. Thank you, Mom.
(Better pictures of Libby IN the dress, still to come.)

Excuses, Excuses!

My dad is the awesomest, most talented woodworker I know. We've been the recipient of some of the coolest gifts (and others that I have failed to document here!).

In November, when we went to my parents' house for a visit, my dad gave me my Christmas present. A baby cradle. He's making one for each of his children. They're to be heirlooms. I just need to decide which kid I like best. The cradle will be the item I hold over their heads and use as threats when they decide to become teenagers.

At any rate, my dad asked that each of his children take a picture of THEIR child/children sleeping in the cradle, so that he could post it on his website. I received a slightly annoyed instant message from him a couple of days ago, "Libby is the only picture missing now..."

*Sigh* Sorry Dad!
You're more than welcome to put THIS picture on your website. Perhaps it will explain why I have not yet taken a lovely picture of my daughter in the gorgeous cradle you built.


1. Libby. Trying to sleep. Trying.
2. The cradle! You built it! Thank you! We love it. Really.
3. Very large bin of clean laundry that needs (and has needed for about a week now) to be folded and put away.
4. Lucas. Sweetly "rocking" his "Bibby." Do I really need to go on?
5. The crib bumper from Lucas's crib that's been sitting in this corner since before Libby was born. Awesome.
6. A very large pile of maternity clothes that needs to be given away/sold.

Again, Dad. You're more than welcome to put this picture on your website. There's also this picture, but you did say you wanted the cradle included in the picture...

Here's the Story, Morning Glory.

Information to Note:
For the first time, in 5 pregnancies, I tested Group B Strep Positive. I don't actually know what this means, except that it causes the mother to require two doses of IV antibiotics given 4 hours apart, approximately 4 hours before the baby is born.

My labors are short. As in 1.5 to 3 hours start to finish short.

So, I think you can imagine our concern.

Wednesday, February 24th @ 9:30am -- OB Visit
I had really hoped to not make it to this visit, what with my plans on already having given birth and all. Such is life. And birth. I went with the boys in tow, knowing full-well that they would likely be getting an eyeful. Poor kids.

First let me say that my midwife, Susan, is awesome. She went ahead and checked my cervix. 5cm! Oh boy. Not in labor, but walking around at 5cm dilated. We're on dangerous ground here as it's very likely at this point that I will not only not be able to get the antibiotics in time, but also could possibly not even make it to the hospital before delivering.

It was decided after some contemplation, to have Susan strip my membranes. Hopefully, this would put me into early labor and get my body really ready. Done and done.

Went and ran my last few errands (Target! of course) and went home and cleaned and organized and cleaned and organized. At 4pm, Matt came home from work and we dropped the kids off with my friend JoAnn and set on our way to the hospital. But first, we went to have The Last Supper. You know, our final meal alone together before this child makes proper dating nearly impossible.

We arrived at the hospital at 5:30 and were admitted immediately. I had my IV antibiotics started and sat having randomish contractions about 15 minutes apart. Now being hooked up to monitors and sitting in bed is not my preferred labor experience. But, remember, I wasn't IN LABOR. So, I sat in bed! I played Sudoku and facebooked. I read blogs from my phone. Matt napped (that's pretty much his labor theme).

At 9pm, my midwife informed me that she'd be breaking my water shortly, giving me the second dose of antibiotics and then seeing what happened. I would, of course, be free to get up and walk, use the birthing ball and even get in the jacuzzi tub! Bring it on!

So, at 9:30, Susan checked me (6cm) and they broke my water. I needed to be monitored for a couple minutes after they broke my water to insure that the baby wasn't in distress. Immediately, my contractions went from 15 minutes apart and annoying to 3 minutes apart and slightly more than annoying. By the time I had received my second dose of antibiotics it was 9:45pm and I was having to pause in my conversations with Matt to breathe through contractions.

At 10:00pm, I remember looking at Matt and telling him I'd changed my mind. Of course, this was a good sign. He predicted she'd be born in an hour and a half. I knew better. I knew I couldn't do another 1.5 hours of this pain level... and I remembered that it gets alot more painful before it becomes instantly, LESS painful. I told him she'd be born by 10:30p. He laughed.

My guttural groaning/pushing during contractions had my midwife come running from another room at 10:15pm. In no time flat, the room was transformed into one prepared to host a baby! I was instructed to go ahead and push when I felt my next contraction. As if on cue, a contraction started. I pushed. And suddenly, there she was! Like clockwork. 10:26pm. True to my prediction.

It was exactly how we had planned it. I was able to receive the antibiotics necessary to keep Libby healthy, I was able to deliver with my midwife (who was only on call on THAT day), and I was able to have the natural delivery I wanted. Granted, a 45 minute delivery doesn't give one time to do extravagant things like "labor in the jacuzzi tub" or even say, "walk around." Overall, I can't complain.

What I leave out is mostly me writhing in agony and probably some swearing. But, only I need to remember those things (good birth control)!

Tonight's Family Prayer: An excerpt

As given by Miles.

"Please bless that we can be healthy and strong."
"Please bless that we can see who is the strongest."

At which point I couldn't take it anymore and started laughing so hard I was crying.
Love this kid.

It's a Love/Hate thing.

Miles.

I can admit that I have the hugest soft spot for that sweet little ornery four year old. He can send me into a fit of rage faster than any of the other kids. But will melt my angry heart quicker than you can say snuggle time.

It appears the feeling is mutual.

Yes, that's right... Miles gives Dad a checkmark.

Mmmm....

We're not coffee drinkers. But sometimes, I wish we were. Both Matt and I love the smell. And frankly, the "morning wakeup" it promises are alluring. And yet we refrain.

Instead, especially during these colder months weeks, we enjoy a daily cup of hot chocolate. Must have marshmallows. Our current favorite: Ghirardelli Peppermint Hot Cocoa. Yum.


It actually reminds me of when Matt and I were dating. We were living in Utah where there is a much longer cold season. From about September through February or later, we would get together every single evening with some good friends and enjoy all manner of hot beverage (barring coffee). We had herbal teas, hot cocoa, and even the ill-fated Postum that Matt loved so dearly.

So, every morning when I sit down with my hot chocolate, it feels like a trip back in time. A much skinnier time.

So, where were we? Oh, yes, blogging.

When I was growing up, we didn't have a pool, or money to attend day camps during the summer or basically anything costing money. So instead, we had to be inventive and entertain ourselves in ways that I wouldn't necessarily consider "typical." Actually, that might be true of other people who grew up 20 years ago. But our society has made it so that children must be entertained at all times to the point of being overscheduled. Heaven forbid children be inventive and entertain themselves with things that don't involve soccer, karate, ballet and then swimming lessons all before dinner. Small rant. Sorry.

As it turns out, the cheap childhood games we played are the very same ones that I relish and long for my children to enjoy.

Things like...

Three legged races.

And Red Light, Green Light and Mother May I, but I don't have pictures of those... so keep an eye on Jenny's blog, too, because I think she will eventually have them up.

We also entertained ourselves with things like...

Swinging and climbing on the rope swings. There has been a rope swing on this tree for the better part of the last 22 years. Poor tree.

What else? Oh yeah, races.


Making necklaces, bracelets and headresses out of clover flowers. Yes, even for the boys.




I guess some occasional parent interaction is okay. But just to spin you around.

And in general, just getting really dirty... and REALLY sweaty.



(if that one of Miles doesn't make you guffaw, you're dead to me.)

But, I guess that sometimes, kids just get tired of entertaining themselves. They just can't bring themselves to do any more swinging or sliding...


and that's when Mom offers you a popsicle.

and you attempt to eat it through a butterfly net.

Kids are weird, man!

A couple of things that bring me great joy.

This will be filed away in the "She's a total religious crazy, but still a good photographer" file.

Today, I drove to the temple with Anna and Miles in tow. Despite getting lost and having to call my RS President for help (she's got one of those fancy GPS systems in her car... we're also friends, Hi Debbie!), we made it. But guess what. It's Monday. The distribution center (which is why I was REALLY going there) was closed, as was the temple. So, with Miles dead asleep in my arms, Anna and I walked around the temple grounds for a couple minutes.

We sat down on a curb. I asked Anna what she wanted to do. Her simple reply, "Sing 'I Am A Child of God'." So we did. And I couldn't help but feel a couple of tears fall. Just yesterday I had explained to a friend that despite being very active in the church, I was feeling spiritually inactive. Like I just couldn't care less one way or the other. But today, sitting on that curb, I felt my Heavenly Father wrap His arms around me and my daughter for a brief moment. The simple request of a child, who I'm sure was feeling the love of her Heavenly Father too.

Now, to bring it back to Earth. Shortly thereafter, Anna told me she needed to use the potty. The Temple was closed. The Distribution Center was closed... and lest we be smitten for peeing on the grass (Anna's request) on Temple Grounds, we high-tailed it out of there.

And because it wouldn't be a photoblog without photos (and sorry, I didn't take my camera to the Temple.)

Miles, who I never get good pictures of:
And hey mom, doesn't he look like Adam here?:

And now.. a word from our sponsors.

Random image, eh? This is My daughter, Abbie, holding a fantastic spoon that I've never used and a really cool heart shaped rock. Wow. Way to state the obvious.

This picture is for my dad, who I miss terribly. The full story, for those who care to hear it, is that my dad has a hobby he loves. LOVES. Like the way I feel about photography. Woodworking. My dad carved me this spoon. It's made of Birds Eye Maple. I'm told it was an extremely difficult wood to work with. He has carved each one of his daughters and daughters-in-law a spoon. I love my spoon. It does NOT get used in my kitchen. If something happened to it, I could never forgive myself... or the person who did it. I LOVE THIS SPOON. I hope to pass it on to my daughters, who can pass it on to their daughters, etc.

The rock, you see, had a very different artist. Abbie picked this rock up at Forgetmenot Pond in Alberta, Canada on our vacation last summer. "Look mom, a heart!" And of course, I had to admit, it was indeed heart-shaped. Amazing. Formed by Him. The big Him. Personally, I think He did a better job than any stone-carver could. And it took a really long time.

So I like to think that when I'm feeling down about my art (my art being photography, but also my kids and life in general...) about Him. And how very long it must have taken. And about how I am His art. I wonder if He ever feels discouraged? Just keep swimming, eh?