Elder Cody

My little brother received his LDS Mission call today.

He called me around 11AM this morning from work, to ask if I'd run to his house and check the mail to see if it was there. I texted the whole family a picture of the envelope when I found it there in the mailbox, but we all had to wait until we could all get to Mom & Dad's house tonight to open it.

Here's Cody -- looking mischievous, 'cause he totally just looked ahead in the letter and saw where he was going before he got to reading it aloud.

Montevideo, Uruguay, South America. He reports to the MTC in Argentina (vs. the Provo one -- so no big tearful farewell at the MTC for our family this time) October 28th, 2010.

How thrilled does my Mom look!?

Dad and Cody checking it out on a globe.

Annie doing a happy 'Cody got his call' dance -- I should've gotten video.

Cody and I (and my belly).

Excited Grandparents and Annie.

Ellie was only interested in pizza and breadsticks -- she seemed fairly uninterested in the whole 'reading of letters' and tears and hugs part of the evening.

We're all so excited for him. All the return missionaries in our immediate family served Spanish speaking missions, so Cody is thrilled to join their ranks and be able to get in on the foreign tongue mocking of those of us who don't speak Spanish.


The rest of the evening looked pretty much like this:

My Dad googled Uruguay, then ran in and out of the room spouting interesting facts about the country.

Ellie ate all the Crazy Bread she could get her hands on. (Cody's request for his 'special mission call dinner' -- Little Caesars.)

Everyone (rightfully) mocked Cody's Spanish accent.

There were ongoing disagreements on how to pronounce both Uruguay and Montevideo.

Star and Cody played the board game "Guess Who?" in Spanish. For Spanish practice and all.

People kept asking if all the excitement had put me in labor yet. (It had not. Still hasn't).

Then my sisters and I left to go walk around the store for an hour or so to try and kick start labor, to really make this a truly unforgettable day. Didn't work.

It was a lot of fun.

Congrats Cody! We're so excited for you!

Annie's Take on Her Baby-Brother-to-Be

Annie today was telling me how excited she is to meet her new little brother (hear that Isaac, Mom's not the only one getting antsy, feel free to show up anytime now!) She's told me that she thinks he'll have brown eyes, like her and Mommy, not hazel like Daddy's and Ellie's. She also told me today that she's pretty sure he'll have light hair, "Then four people in our family will have light hair, and only one person will have dark . . . [sad sigh] . . . poor Mom." She talks to my stomach, telling baby Isaac how excited we are to meet him, and about all the fun things we'll do together when he's born. She loves to sing and talk to her little brother, telling him stories about the world outside Mom's tummy.

Ellie's a bit more forward. She came up to my stomach this morning, poked it hard and shouted, "OUT!"

I'm with Ellie on this one. :-)

(Oh, and I had a couple hours of mildly painful contractions that kept me up for several hours last night. Then I finally got to sleep, and nothing has happened since. Except I've been a bit more impatient than normal since I'm freakishly tired now.)

Labeled

Annie and Ellie got two cute little stuffed ducks from the fair we went to on Saturday. Problem is, they're identical. So, after a big blow up about whose is whose, I suggested writing names on the tag. Annie happily ran and got me a pen and declared, "OK Mom, it's A-N-N-I-E, Annie. Write that." Thanks for the help Annie. :-) I wrote hers, then grabbed Ellie's duck and heard Ellie chime in, "Lalee! E-L-O-O-D! Lalee!" She's almost half way there!

(And, no, I'm not in labor yet.) :-)

Still Nothin'

Despite all the 'it could be any time now' signs on Friday, I've felt nothing giving me the slightest inkling I'll go into labor ever since. Part of me feels bad about letting myself get antsy about it this weekend -- I'm still a few days from my due date, so I can't even complain about being 'late' yet (and even then, I'm a firm believer that 40 weeks isn't an 'expiration date', but merely an estimate in which the actual event could happen on either side of) . . . but dang, I really, really, really wanted it to be this weekend. I wanted to not have to stress over 'is it time to call Greg home from work or not!?' during the week. Also, my sister Lacy can come into town only twice this summer -- and she's here tonight. I really wanted her to see the baby before he was a month or so old.

I guess there's still time -- but I'm gonna try really hard not to be disappointed if/when it doesn't happen 'til my due date or later . . . :-)

It Almost Feels Like Progress

Around 8PM last night, I was kinda surprised when one of my typically painless Braxton Hicks started to hurt a little as things tightened and cramped. Then it faded and I wondered if it had been anything more than a tight ligament or a sore muscle. Then about 15 minutes later, it happened again, this time tightening all the way into my back. Then again. Then again. 'Til about 9PM. Then it stopped completely for the rest of the night and I've felt nothing since.

This baby likes messing with my head. :-)

I'd really hoped for a minute that all my cleaning, mowing the lawn and scrubbing the fridge had paid off . . . but not yet. We're probably not too far off though, right?

Busy Day

Today was a lot of fun -- my wonderful neighbors threw me a baby shower and I had so much fun visiting and laughing with everyone, not to mention feeling spoiled with all the great little boy clothes, blankets and gadgets we got! (I'll have more of the shower, with pictures, a little later.)

Then I came home and mowed the front lawn. I think Greg was a bit annoyed with me when I told him what I was doing over the phone. He said to wait 'til he got off work and he'd do it when he got home. I told him he was just nervous about getting crap from the neighbors about his 39+ week pregnant wife mowing the lawn. :-) I finished all the laundry, vacuumed, got caught up on all the dishes, and even scrubbed out every square inch of the refrigerator. And yet, the baby did not get the message, and seems to be comfortably settling in for a long night of no labor. :-)

Baby Pool

My last doctor's appointment was a bit of let down, what with the "well, he's in crappy position and there's been no change." Today's was a much more encouraging, "You've past 39 weeks, he's moved into perfect position, you're dilated to a three now and just get out walking and you're gonna have this baby soon." Of course, reality means soon could be tomorrow, or next week. Either way, I'm just glad he's moved into a favorable position and progress is being made. It makes all the Braxton Hicks and the pressure and pains seem so much more worth it. :-)

So, since we're closing in . . . any last minute guesses on birth date, time, weight, height and length of labor?

Just as a reminder: Annie was born on her due date, 6lbs. 8 ounces, 19 inches long, at 6:47PM. (After about 8-10 hours of labor, probably . . . that first one was hard to call, when you're actually 'in' labor and all.)
Ellie was born two weeks early, she was 6lbs even (well, like 5lbs. 15.5 ounces), 19.5 inches long. (My water broke the night before, I walked that hospital all night long with not so much as a contraction. They started pitocin in the morning, and as soon as I started having any measurable contractions they turned it off and she was born a little over 2 hours later. She was born around 10 something in the morning, I think. I'm gonna have to look that one up. :-)

Enter your guesses -- winners might even get a prize. If I'm together enough after birth to remember to send 'em. :-)

Ellie

Ellie has decided that it's time to identify colors . . . something that for a long time she thought was a bogus waste time. Questions like "Ellie, what color is Elmo?" was met with a dramatic eye roll and a sigh. Like, "Why are you asking me such stupid questions and wasting all of our time?!" Then, suddenly, about a week ago, everything became it's color. The pink pen is no longer called a pen, it's called "Mink!" (Or, pink, if Ellie used 'p' sounds when she said the word 'pink'.) Favorite toys are now just referred to as 'Lellow' or 'Mink' or 'Pupple' or 'Gween'. It's funny, 'cause I totally remember this stage of Annie's, where all nouns were just referred to by their color for a couple weeks. And it's fun to see Ellie do the same thing.

Ellie's talking more and more. I think we're achieving actual sentences. Or at least condensed knock knock jokes.
She rattles this one off quickly, like it's one big word, "MamaknockknockwhoderMOO!" [followed by hysterical laughter].
This is Ellie's version of Annie's favorite joke right now:
Knock knock.
Who's there?
Interrupting cow.
Interrupting c . . .
MOOOOOO! (Said to interrupt the other person, obviously.) :-)

She's very into ages and numbers. Anytime she hears the word 'two' she jumps up and shouts "Lala! Lala! Lala!" (Lala and Lalee being her two versions of her own name.) "Yep," we assure her, "we know, you're two." This can be anywhere she hears it . . . like at Church they're all, "Turn to hymn two-thirty-four," and Ellie's all, "Lala! Lala! Lala two! Lala two!" This morning she told me that she was two, Annie was four, then held up her hands, cocked her head to the side and asked, "Doh doh?" "Uncle Cody is nineteen," I answered (rounding up by a month or two). To which she happily danced around for the next twenty minutes singing, "Lalee two, An-nie four, Doh-doh (Uncle Cody) nine-teen!"

Ellie seems increasingly excited about the baby coming, and likes to point out my large stomach to people and tell them the baby, or 'Eye-ik', is there. It'll be interesting to see how much the reality of a new brother meshes with whatever she's thinking is gonna happen in her little two year old head. Annie transitioned amazingly to having a baby come home. She was so excited and sweet and nurturing and just completely ready to be the 'big sister' (It's hard for me to even imagine at this point that Annie was actually over a month younger when Ellie came home then Ellie is right now.) Ellie is a very, very different two year old than Annie was, and I'm a little more nervous this go around. :-) Ellie is just much more 'the baby'. Annie was so independent and wanted to be in charge and grown up and 'big' at this point. Ellie wants to be the baby, and doesn't play independently as well or as long as Annie did at this point. I think she'll feel more threatened by a new baby than Annie ever did. If you'd asked me years ago, I would've assumed it'd be a bigger transition from only child to having a sibling for Annie than it is for Ellie to just add another sibling to the mix, but I'm not so sure about that now. :-) We'll have to wait and see . . .

Still Gestating

I received an email or two that informed me that if I woefully neglect my blog for days at a time, people are gonna assume I'm in labor or something. Nope, still gestating. I'm just about 39 weeks now, so it should be any day (or week or so), and that's cool with me. I'm feeling surprisingly good -- I mean sure, I'm getting antsy to meet my little boy, but I'm not necessarily in a big hurry for this all to end. I love the feeling of him moving inside my belly, and he is a heck of a lot easier to take care of now than he will be in a week or two :-)

I'm also not 'allowed' to have the baby until after Thursday, as many members of my family are going to be out of town for the bulk of this week. Then they're home for a week and leave again a week or so later. So, I have this window in which I'm allowed to have the baby :-) We'll see how that goes . . . so far he's not showing any signs of being overly cooperative. :-)

Oh, and semi related . . . how is it I have never tried sitting on an exercise/birth ball during my third trimester?! It's AMAZING! I tried sitting on one while in my second trimester, but it just felt awkward. Tried it again yesterday though, and I couldn't get over how wonderful it felt to rest on. My sore muscles just melt and I feel so much better while sitting on it! My back feels wonderful and I feel lighter and less 'weighed down' . . . which seems almost impossible at this point of pregnancy. :-) I think I'm eschewing all other chairs until birth!

Somebody's Not Cooperating . . .

Good news from my doctor's appointment today -- my blood pressure was picture perfect, my midwife gushed over my 100% history of negative protein and sugar tests, and I'd actually lost a pound.

And that was about it.

Then I got all (unnecessarily) disappointed, and kinda mopey the rest of the day. The midwife checked the heartrate with the doppler about 30 times, in about 15 different spots on my stomach -- the entire time looking very concerned and muttering stuff like, "That has to be a head . . . wait, that can't be a head . . . " Which had me ready to ask, "You mean like this baby has two, or that there's another head in there?!" Turns out I'm not carrying surprise twins or a baby with a head on each end, and fortunately not even a breech baby -- just a very oddly lying posterior baby who refuses to engage his head where it belongs, and is facing 'sunny side up.' Not really the biggest deal at this point, but a little disheartening to hear, as it's not exactly the most advantageous position for labor. (There's still plenty of time for him to turn around and get into place, with almost two weeks left 'til my due date. I just wanted some nice, clear, 'things are working out exactly to plan' news today -- like, "Hey look at that! He's further down than he was last time, his head's engaged in the pelvis, and you dilated another two centimeters! Go you and all that progress!") But instead he's posterior and my dilation hasn't changed at all since I was 36 weeks.

I'd told Greg going into this appointment, after a weekend of pretty strong 'pre-labor' symptoms that I wanted to see some 'progress', "Although I'm gonna go in there and either find out I'm still dilated to a 2 and be disappointed, even though it means nothing 'cause I could go into labor 8 hours later . . . or I'll be thrilled to find out I'm suddenly a 4, but labor won't start for three more weeks and I'll be overdue . . ." On an intellectual level, I'm fairly realistic about the fact that cervical exams during the last trimester really do mean jack . . . I know people who walk around dilated to a 5 for weeks before labor starts, and others who are told they're not even starting to dilate and thin out, and go into labor that night. It's all just an evil mind trip played on poor, vulnerable pregnant women. Of course, even knowing this, I totally wanted to find out if I'd 'made any progress' today, setting my own self up for disappointment. Will I never learn?!

So, posterior oddly positioned baby who refuses to get his head and body into position, no further dilation and a fairly stressful little doppler session rounded out my appointment.

The cool thing though -- coming from the midwife who's last major recommendation to me was "try to lie on your side for several hours a day" (something I don't do anymore, since my blood pressure rose back up amongst the living), she has requested I rock in a rocking chair "while you watch two or three of your favorite shows, or a movie or something" everyday, to move the baby further down between my hips (something about the rocking motion). (Along with a lot of walking, but as she put it, "You're nine months pregnant and it's approaching summer -- how much are you really gonna want to walk!? Walk as much as you can, rock in your chair the rest of the time -- it's a lot less tiring.") Pretty soon she's gonna be telling me to take a spa day, get in a couple long bubble baths and make sure I get some quality 'me-time' in . . . I really like this woman.

Two Peas in a Preschool Pod

Annie's last day of Preschool was today. She just looks at me confused every time I try and explain the concept of 'summer vacation' . . . like "Wait, we need a break from school!? It's only the greatest part of my week! Why do we need a vacation from it?!" The kids did a cute little program, showing off many of the songs they'd learned this year.

Annie and her best friend, Sarajayne, were of course sitting right next to each other. Here's just a few pictures I took.

Ellie loved all the singing, and kept standing up in the 'audience' every time the older kids stood up, and she was 'singing' along, including trying to keep up with the actions, to all these songs she'd never heard before. It was all very cute.

Edited to add a couple videos of Annie singing some of their favorite songs from the year:

More Motherhood Guilt

Greg and I, for the life of us, can't figure out how to get our children to bed. For awhile it was all working perfectly -- we'd put them down around 7:30ish, they might talk a minute or two, but they'd fall asleep. It helped that it was dark outside. Now, we get them down between 7:30-8:00, and we're lucky if they're asleep by 9pm. (Stupid sun.) The talking, fighting, screaming, singing, crying . . . all brilliant stalling techniques on the part of our little girls. We don't really have much at our disposal -- we walk in and tell them to be quiet and go to sleep. And then leave. 'Cause really, there's not much more we can do. Our ultimate trump card is 'the hall.' When one of the children, in particular, is keeping the ruckus going, after a very stern warning will get taken out of bed and set up on a makeshift bed out in our hallway on the floor. Annie hates this with a passion. Last night when Greg was putting Ellie down for bed she asked if she could sleep in the hall. Sigh.

Annie was relegated to the hall just a few nights ago. She screamed and freaked out and yelled a lot about us not being a nice Mom and Dad, and sobbed, "Why is everyone so mean to me when I'm so nice?!" After about a half hour of such dramatics (non-freaking-stop) I was about ready to go postal, so I upped the ante. "Annie, you have two minutes to calm down, then I'm moving you to the bathroom and you will sleep in there." I set a timer. No change. I grabbed several big, fluffy blankets, and lined the bathroom floor, carried her and her pillows and blankets in there and laid her down on the bathroom floor. She flipped out. She was screaming about her horribly mean Mom, and yelling, "You can't make me sleep in here! This room is DANGEROUS!" I told her to knock it off before I shut the door to the bathroom so we didn't have to hear her screaming anymore.

Good thing she doesn't know the phone number for any child protective agencies . . .

She did fall asleep though. She quieted down right away, and fell asleep eventually. And slept all night. And the next night when she started to freak out, I mentioned the bathroom floor. She was quiet and asleep in no time. (Ellie on the other hand was happily laying out in the hall on the floor, singing to herself.)

The Invoice is in the Mail

My parents are in charge of Youth Conference in their Ward [insert Nelson Muntz inspired 'ha ha!' here], which means I've spent approximately 6 hours over the last several days working on graphic design for my Mom (handouts, booklets, schedules, programs, decorations, etc.). I thought about sending them a $180 invoice for the work done (my discounted graphics rate for that much design), but then I was afraid they'd retaliate with a back bill for past orthodontics work or something. So, I just figure we're even now. Right? :-)

That's the Point

Last night, Greg went in to remind the girls that they needed to stop talking to each other, because it was bedtime. Annie responded, "I can't not talk . . . 'cause then I'll go to sleep!"

Organizing My Nest

So, it suddenly seemed vitally important tonight to organize the playroom. I'm talking dump out every single basket, storage bin and cubbie and start from scratch. It's as perfectly organized as it was the day we set up the playroom in the first place. Of course . . . the girls are downstairs playing right now, so it's probably not gonna last long . . .

Of course, cleaning frenzies (of such fervor that my husband and children steered clear and I worked straight through the dinner I'd cooked for the rest of the family) bring up one thing when you're 9 months pregnant -- nesting. Truthfully, I don't remember nesting before the birth of my first two kids. I was mildly obsessed with making sure my hospital bag was in the trunk and the carseat was properly installed -- but not once did I scrub out the fridge or clean floorboards with a toothbrush in some last ditch effort to get cleaned and organized. But lately, all I can think about is my front hall closet being cluttered, my pantry needing to be organized, my refrigerator shelves needing to be wiped clean, the girls' carseats needing to be shampooed and the baby's room needing to be perfected. Can't stop obsessing.

I don't think 'nesting' is working out so well for me. If I had a nice little 24 hour burst of energy, that'd be great. But, the problem is I have an estimated three weeks left of this pregnancy and if I clean with such gusto as I did tonight, and complete all the projects that now seem so urgent, I'm gonna be awfully tired by the time the baby gets here . . .


Edited to add: I sent the following email to my sisters . . .

Subject: Funnest Girls Night Ever!
Wanna know what'd be so cool!? If you guys came over on Saturday, and hung out with me and helped me get stuff ready for the baby! You know, like organize his room, sort through the baby toys, clean my pantry, that kinda stuff!!!! Doesn't it sound like a blast!?!?! Who's with me!!! :-)

Think they'll fall for it?

Spring Dance Recital

Annie had her last Dance Recital for the season. She's really enjoyed doing dance, and loved her beautiful costume (and it only cost us $25 for her costume for this recital -- how freaking adorable is it for 25 bucks!) Annie did really well (as in she got up on stage and loved being up there, and followed whatever steps the little girl next to her was attempting) and she was beyond adorable up there. Ellie also did very well, staying very happy and content the vast majority of the time, despite the fact we didn't get home 'til almost 10:30 that night.
Wanna hear the part that makes me a horrible person? :-) I had printed invitations for the event, with a beautiful photo of Annie in her dance costume on it, and given them to all her grandparents, aunts & uncles, and all the great grandmas. Then I realized a week or two later I had the wrong recital time on there, so I sent out an email to everyone about the time change. No problem, right? Well, except apparently my Grandma had decided to come to it (she's never been to anything like this before with us, and she never mentioned coming, despite us seeing her a few times in the last little while), and I hadn't called all the great grandparents about the time change ('cause I honestly hadn't even suspected any of them had even thought about coming!) So my 85 year old Grandma got there for the 5PM show. And spent the next two hours freaking out that I'd like gone into labor or something and that's why we weren't there. She was very relieved when we all showed up at almost 7PM. And then she sat there through another entire dance recital, meaning she was outdoors through five and a half hours of dancing and intermissions. Um, oops! I felt horrible. Good one, Hilary! (She seemed to enjoy herself though!)

Anyway, at least she did get to be there to see Annie dance in not one, but two adorable numbers. Here's Annie before the dance recital started.

Annie on stage during her first dance number.

Check out those moves!

Our little ballerina!

Awwww, for cute!

Coming on stage for the finale . . . she loved all the bowing and kissing!

Good job Annie! We were all so proud of you!

Summer Fun

As kids there was nothing we loved more than flooding our giant sandbox and building large mazes of rivers and dams. My youngest brother, Cody, hasn't grown out of this in the least, and is over at least once or twice a week to flood the sandbox with my girls. Here's a picture of them from yesterday (before they actually dug out the entire middle of the sandbox, filled it with water and made a very muddy pool) while Ellie, Annie and her friend Kian, all buried Cody is the sand.



The kids are loving this weather. Me, not so much. It just got so hot so quick, and I haven't had time to adjust, and I'm uber-pregnant, and I would kill for some mild 72 degree weather.

We got home Sunday night to find our house a balmy 85 degrees. And that was the main floor. I don't know how hot our bedroom was. I'm guessing 90, and I'm not exaggerating. (Well, maybe a little, but not a lot. Like 88 degrees maybe.) We got the kids in bed and Greg went right to work and installed our brand new window AC unit (courtesy of the greatest in-laws in human history who remembered they had an awesome one they weren't using anymore and just handed it over), and pretty soon it was 72 in my bedroom and I was the happiest pregnant woman ever. Greg decided that if ever there was an 'ox in the mire*' kinda situation, it's having a nine month pregnant wife with a 90 degree bedroom :-) (We're thinking the example, with a well timed mention in General Conference by President Monson, could quickly become the modern Mormon version of the ox example for appropriate reasons to break the sabbath . . . :-). I am a much happier person with a cool room to sleep (and hide out in the heat of the day) in.)

My lawn also seems to hate the sudden change in temperature -- just last week Greg and I were all smugly patting ourselves on the back for our lush green front lawn. Oh, what a good job we'd done this year! It was so healthy and strong looking! So of course this week, it looks so fried and it hasn't even gone more than a few days without water! Stupid hot weather killing my lush, green (front) lawn. (My back lawn is full of crap grass (and crab grass, but mainly just a variety of different grasses that are all crap). We bust our butts all summer watering and poisoning and fertilizing and we still end up with pathetic, patchy, ugly grass back there. One day we want to kill it all and start from scratch, but that little yard improvement project is still down the list a few years.)

Although, we did spend an hour at the splash park the other day, and the girls ran through sprinklers yesterday, and have spent every spare minute out in the sandbox -- and they love it all so much, I'm kinda feeling guilty about begrudging their fun summer weather. At least I'm 37 weeks pregnant this week, so I'm taking comfort in the fact I'm not going to be pregnant all summer . . .



* Rescuing an “ox from the mire” is a popular Mormon euphemism for breaking the Sabbath Day (and for other Christians, but Mormon's seem to really like it -- possibly due to all those oxens in pioneer stories). This phrase kinda comes from when the Savior was accused of doing work when He healed a man on the Sabbath. His response is in Luke 14:5:

5 And answered them, saying, Which of you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway pull him out on the sabbath day?

Cody's High School Graduation

So, my baby brother graduated from High School last night. My sisters and I came to show our support, by not going in and watching any of the long ceremony and instead walking around our old high school and getting pictures of ourselves in front of landmarks. :-) We did go out to ice cream afterwards though. We are a very supportive family like that. My Mom had asked me to come and take some pictures of Cody before and after the event, but Cody was a complete stinker and hated every second of it and made getting pictures very difficult :-) It was all, "That's enough!" "How many do we need?!" "That better not show up on facebook!" "I'm not even looking at the camera again until you delete that last one!" His reasoning for his less than stellar cooperation was that high school graduation is not a big deal or a major accomplishment ("the two guys I was sitting between were just talking about getting high after the ceremony, I mean, they let anyone graduate!"), but merely a minimum requirement in life. Surprisingly though, when I mentioned that if that was true maybe I shouldn't give him my generous cash gift, he totally changed his tune . . . :-)

Cody & Mom. Awwww.

Cody's Graduation Gift!

OK, not really. It belongs to my parent's neighbors.

But he did get to drive it. (Which was fun to watch -- that is one sensitive clutch!) :-)

Cody's very supportive sisters were there at the High School for the ceremony -- but rather than watch the actual ceremony, Star, Talina and I just wandered around the school taking random pictures. Here's Talina pointing at one of the many, many places where Cottonwood has her name immortalized up on a wall or plaque.

Star checked out the Career Center.

Cody and my parents after he was officially graduated and stuff.

Mom, Star, Cody, Talina and me.

I liked this one a lot, 'cause my Dad randomly took it at a weird angle and Cody and I were having talking to each other . . .

But this one is probably my very favorite. Everyone's talking about where we're headed next, except for Star who'd been making amusing faces and striking funny poses for the last 30 seconds or so -- this one just captured it so perfectly, every member of my family seems to be pointing or looking in a different direction, except Star who's mugging for the camera.

Talina and me hanging out in the school.

Star and Dad's self portrait.

Afterwards we went to Leatherby's, which is our family's official "so you graduated" or "so you got baptized" or "so you accomplished something" celebratory spot. Here's Cody and me. I wish we'd gotten pictures right after this of Cody feeling the baby move. Both Talina and Cody had their hands on my stomach, and for the first time, both felt Isaac kick. They both squealed like little girls. :-)

Talina and David (who joined us at Leatherby's after graduation, we didn't just leave him out of the photos at the school. Oh, and Greg was home with the girls, since this was all going kinda late. And Lacy was up in Logan. That should explain the whereabouts of everyone important.)

Cody with his grandparents.

Star being cheesy for the camera again.

Congratulations Cody . . . as was discussed, you have now met the very minimum standard! Good work!

Domestic Goddess?

I've never claimed to be the most 'domestic' person out there -- I mean, I try and keep a clean house and feed my family healthy homemade food, at least a big chunk of the time. I don't regularly steam clean my floor boards, defrost my freezer or scrub out my oven, and there aren't any handmade crafts around, or beautifully decorated rooms (in fact, both of my upstairs bathrooms are still bare after a year and a half of living here.) And apparently my kids haven't missed the fact that I may be a bit lacking in this area . . .

Annie was looking down, sadly, at the wrinkled bow on the front of her dress this morning and said, "Hey Mom, do you think we could go by Grandma's later so she could iron my bow for me?"

My response, rather than get out my iron and take care of it, and prove to my four year old that I am in fact capable of ironing, was, "Sure, we could swing by there later." :-)

Happy Birthday Greg! And a Bunch of Other Randomness

It's Greg's 31st Birthday today! Happy Birthday, hon!

Last year, I wrote a long birthday post that perfectly sums up the sheer amazingness of Greg -- he's the best husband, the greatest father and the most exceptional man I know. I had a lot of fun pictures of him as a baby, plus more recent photos with the kids and I. This year though, I'm in my last few weeks of pregnancy and his two (already-birthed) children have been just this side of crazy lately, so I'm tired and lazier. Here's a recent photo of him with Annie though!

Happy Birthday Greg -- I love you even more than I did last year (who knew that was possible!?) -- but since I'm having another of your kids anytime this month, and I spent a solid hour cleaning gobs of silver fabric paint that your four year old smeared all over our couch cushions, this is all the birthday post you get this year! Love you! :-)


Unrelated to Greg's birthday -
Here's a bunch of random photos taken of Annie for her dance class. Greg's Mom and I ordered some 8x10s of a few of our favorites, but until they arrive, I just have a couple low-res screen shots to hold me over . . .

Um, more unrelatedness -- I had my 36 week check up this week. The baby was again determined to be healthy and extremely active, and my blood pressure was an impressively increased 96/60 (which means no more ordered modified bedrest! Woo hoo! I am supposed to start laying down again if I have more dizzy spells though. Hopefully I can keep it above 85/44 for the rest of the pregnancy! Man, was I tired when it was that low all the time!). I feel so much better, and have more energy -- not something I was expecting as I entered my final month of pregnancy! (I am getting more and more sore and achy though, so it's a trade off.) Ellie was so excited to find out I had a doctor's appointment today that she walked around the house saying "Beep, beep," all morning until we finally left. (Which is her way of saying we'll get to hear the baby's heartbeat.) As soon as my midwife walked into the room, Ellie pointed at my stomach and said, "Beep, beep!" and showed a great deal of impatience for the 'talking' portion of the exam. She squealed with delight when the midwife got out the doppler and found the baby . . .
36 weeks though. Wow. That means I should (in theory, quite possibly) have my baby this month (give or take a week or so, let's keep our fingers crossed for June though, shall we?) I should probably pack a diaper bag or something? Or tour the new hospital? Ooooh, should I be filling out pre-registration forms? When do you do that again? We should get a carseat in the van sooner or later . . .
This is all happening very fast :-) And really slow. All at the same time. :-)

One last random thing -- Ellie's speech is coming along remarkably. It really was like one week something 'clicked' and she suddenly 'got' the need for verbal speech, and it's just exploded since. Her Speech Therapist (or 'Tee-sure" (for teacher) as Ellie calls her) is in awe when she comes every two weeks of the progress Ellie makes . . . in fact, she's starting to wonder if there's much more she can do for her at this point. Ellie's speech is less lazy now (rather than just Dada, Nana, Mama, Lala, she will say our names as Daddy, Annie, Mommy and Ellie (or La-lee, which is cute too) -- not always, we're still Mama and Dada a lot, but more and more we're hearing two different sounding syllables throughout Ellie's speech.) She's putting words together now -- which is helpful, 'cause now she can yell stuff like, "No! Mean Mommy! Mommy mean!" Makes me wonder why we wanted her to talk so much? :-) She used more words and less gestures to get what she wants, even asking my to get down one of her favorite books the other day by asking, "Hola pato?" She went from barely using a dozen words a few months back to asking for the book "Hello duck" in a second language. :-) She suddenly loves talking on the phone, and will chatter away with whomever we can find available during the day. She sings constantly. She blows her teacher away by pointing out letters and saying appropriate words like, "A, Annie! D, Dada!" She jabbers way more often (an essential language-learning skill that Ellie completely lacked just a few months ago).
This brings up the question of did we worry over nothing? I've had people recently say to me, "I guess she never needed the Speech Therapy afterall, huh?" I wouldn't go that far. I always hoped for the best, that it would just suddenly 'click' for Ellie (the desire to talk, the ability to do so) and we'd see monumental progress made practically overnight. And it's happening, we're watching it every day and it's amazing. Had we 'left her alone' would've it happened anyway? Yeah, probably. BUT, I really feel that the Speech Therapist has been pivotal in Ellie's progress. Those things that 'clicked', they all came from her teacher. It was Julie who somehow got Ellie to see the need to speak. Julie trained her to just try -- to mimic sounds, to attempt words, to just give it a try -- something Ellie would never do for us.
Yeah, these things probably would've all 'clicked' sooner or later anyway, but I really feel it was Julie's intervention that has Ellie speaking as much as she is now. Plus, each time she's here, she teaches me dozens of new techniques and games and little ways to encourage Ellie's speech that I wouldn't have come up with on my own. Ellie would've spoke either way, but I think it's happening much faster (and before this next baby is born!) because of the Early Intervention program and professionals. I haven't regretted a minute of our time working through this program!

Check This Out

So, my younger sister (Talina, the mini-me one) and her husband have started a blog: http://ourfamilysofar.blogspot.com/
Check it out, the most recent post is a really sweet introduction of Talina by her husband David!

Minor Motherhood Meltdown

Annie freaks out when she gets her hair brushed. It's long and curly and in the morning filled with snarls and tangles and is pretty nasty business to get brushed out. The problem is Annie's reaction to our daily hairstyling has gone from sobs and tears to something that would make more sense if someone was taking out her appendix without anesthesia. It's obnoxious. She's screaming and thrashing and sobbing before I even touch her head now. I get that it's not pleasant, I try hard to be understanding and I use water and 'No More Tears' and patience, and yet she's busy screaming bloody murder from the first mist from the spray bottle. I've told her for a little while now that if the dramatics didn't cut down a bit (since she can apparently have her hair brushed by Grandma and others without more than an occasional whimper) that we were going to take her to get her hair cut. Nothing has improved, and this morning's freak out was particularly Oscar worthy, so I left her thrashing in the bathtub (where we'd been attempting to comb through some conditioner), grabbed a pair of random scissors, gave her one last warning, she started screaming about how I was the meanest Mom in the world, and I took her hair and cut off the bottom two inches.

We finished the haircut in the tub, she remained surprisingly calm throughout it. (Probably shock.) :-) The haircut (while I'll have checked out and cleaned up by my friend Emily) is surprisingly good, and the most ironic part is she spent the next hour admiring herself in the mirror. She loves it.

I'm hoping this makes our lives a bit easier for awhile. She's been told that if the theatrical antics keep up, we will go even shorter though . . .

Stupid Sears

Back in mid-April, I found this killer deal on a new stroller and carseat for the baby online at Sears. It was almost half off, and the brand and pattern I wanted. I was so excited. So, I ordered it, they charged my credit card the next day, and I waited for the email notification that my items were ready to be picked up at the store. And then I waited. Waited some more. I was really patient, because the online order status said it'd be almost a month. But, about six weeks later, I emailed them and asked where my item was, since they'd, you know, had my money for well over a month now. I mentioned that since I'm due in the next month, I'm kind of on a time line here. I got an email that told me basically that according to my online account the order was obviously in processing, and I just needed to be patient. It didn't address a time line whatsoever. I was annoyed by the general tone of the email, it seemed a bit condescending and rude, but didn't want to go all pregnant-woman-postal on them just 'cause I was reading something into the email that hadn't meant to be there. I did email them back and basically said that I had, in fact, been quite patient and I really was expecting my items by now so I could get things ready for the baby, and the fact they had my money for well over a month while I had no items in hand seemed a bit unfair for them to be asking me to be patient with what is obviously a ridiculous amount of time to be waiting for an already paid for item. The next day I received another email that informed me that upon further examination they've realized they are out of the item and they apologize for any inconvenience. (I like how whoever checked it the day before didn't notice the item was out of stock when they so sweetly just told me to be more patient). The email said to call and see if they could arrange a substitution. I called and asked if they could substitute the item for something else, they refused (so why mention it in the first place?), but they'd happily give me 10% off another item. I asked when I could expect my money back. "5-7 business days," I was told. Ugh. They were able to charge my card within 12 hours of my initial purchase, but of course it'll take a week to return the money they've had interest free for 7 weeks now. And now it's been a week, and Sears is still happily holding onto my money and I have no carseat and stroller for the baby I'm expecting in the next few weeks. Good times.

Edited to add: I'm now a little nervous I'm never seeing this money again, as I checked my online account with Sears, and it's showing this order as 'in process' still, and not canceled like they told me it was a week ago . . .

Flat Rock -- A Memorial Day Adventure

So, I've mentioned before, that my entire childhood (and going back to my Mom's entire childhood), my mother's side of the family would meet for Memorial Day at a place we call Flat Rock. It's name is based on a mountainside that is made of what is basically a giant flat rock. (But, by flat, we don't mean horizontal -- I just found out today my husband all these years has always pictured it as a rock that was level, rather than a flat angled rock. This would've made all of my stories of hiking it repeatedly far less impressive. :-) It's actually quite large and quite steep. Which Greg now knows first hand.)

About a decade ago, the property was sold to someone who was less interested in letting us keep our annual family reunion tradition. So, we moved on. And mourned Flat Rock every year. It made me sad that my kids and my husband would never see something that meant so much to me, my siblings and my Mom. (Oh, and I stated the other day that my Mom hadn't missed a year of going up there until she was one day overdue with her first child, me, and didn't go up that year. Apparently, I was mistaken. She did, in fact, go there the year I was born, going clear up into the mountains at one day overdue. I was born two days later.) That's how much this place means to us, the women in our family head up there, miles from the nearest hospital, when overdue. :-)

Anyway, I never thought I'd see it again. And it made me sad. But, we heard from some extended family that the gates had been taken down and they'd gone up there and hiked the rock (there used to be two separate gates we'd have to get unlocked for us on the drive up the mountain each year). My family jumped at the chance of driving an hour and a half just to attempt to get up to the rock again. So, we canceled our other plans for the day (sadly, as we've developed some fun new traditions with Greg's family on Memorial Day -- but I couldn't pass this up), and drove up early this morning.

First things first, we stopped at the Upton Cemetery. Many members of my extended family were buried there throughout the late 1800's, through about 40 years ago. My Mom's brother, Burns, who was a stillborn baby, was buried up there over 50 years ago. My great grandparents and great great grandparents were also buried there. I find the old headstones fascinating, the short stories they tell of real people's lives.

Annie and Ellie in front of the headstone of their great, great grandparents.

Annie was hard to keep off all the headstones -- we were constantly trying to explain they weren't just cool climbing rocks. :-)

Next, we started up the road that leads to Flat Rock. We reached the first gate that we used to have to pass, and happily cheered when we found it had been taken down. Right past it is a small dilapidated home. We cheered again (my sister Star and brother Cody were in our van with us -- Greg, Annie and Ellie weren't really cheering, as none of this had any significance for them yet.) :-) This home was built by my great, great grandparents, and my great grandma was born there. Now, mainly sheep live there, but it's so cool.

We continued on the road (which was now actually paved -- it was all rocks and dirt when I was younger), when we came across the second, now missing, gate and cheered again. Soon we could see Flat Rock up ahead. And several brand new gates where there hadn't been any before. D'oh! So we were met with a decision, that took us approximately 1.2 seconds to make, and we decided to celebrate the Memorial Day holiday by trespassing and hiking the rock before we left. :-) Well, most of us. Some in our party decided not to. Law abiding citizens are so cute what with their moral high ground and all. :-)

It's bigger and steeper than it looks. The face of it is fairly flat, with occasional fossils of various seashells preserved in the rock. It's just so out of place and random up there in the mountains.

Ellie running around in the tall grass.

My kids got to hike the rock. Just typing that makes me smile. My Dad made a comment while we were hiking along the stream afterwards, "You know, I never thought I'd get to hike Flat Rock with my own grandkids," and that summed up the point of the entire trip for me. It was so important for me that my husband and kids got to experience this. Sure, it may not have the same meaning to them that it had to me through years of experience, but they were there, they hiked it, and I got to watch them. We didn't get to play softball in the South field like we did when I was young (when at least one base always seemed to be a large stone you ended up tripping on, and another a cow pie you never actually wanted to step on), or dam up the small stream to the North like my own siblings and I spent hours working on every year of our childhood, but we got to hike the rock. Look down from the top and celebrate, and it was worth any and all effort. (Easier to say because we weren't caught and arrested, of course). :-) I was also pretty proud of my nine month pregnant self -- I hiked nearly to the top (at which point my Dad was pretty much begging me to go back down, he was very adamantly opposed to me going in to labor and delivering up on top of the mountain. Star, on the other hand, was practically offering me money to have a 'Flat Rock baby' and to get to be the one to deliver it.) :-) It was decided I should slowly work my way back down the mountain face, rather than keep hiking up over the top and coming down the other side of the mountain. I started back down, promising my Dad and husband I'd go slow, and making them promise to bring back my kids and my camera in one piece, preferably with lots of photographic evidence of all I was missing down the other side of the mountain.

Here's Greg and Ellie -- Ellie was just dragging people up this mountain! She loved running up it. It's a lot steeper than you'd guess just looking at it too, so she was hard to keep up with!

Me, Star, Annie, Ellie, Grandpa Robert and Cody about half way up.

Grandpa and Ellie taking a break. Not that Ellie needed or wanted one, but they were already way ahead of the rest of us!

Maybe two thirds of the way up the face, looking back down at the family we left below to cheer us on.

Star, Annie and I. Annie was less enthusiastic about this hike than Ellie. She didn't mind it, she just didn't get the hype. :-)

Me, walking back down after being voted off the mountain for the safety of my unborn baby. :-) Greg stopped and took a picture of me when I'd made some progress down the rock.

I made it down without toppling my hugely pregnant self down the steep hill, and the rest of my family continued on up and over the top. They hiked back down the back of the mountain, circling around to the side of the rock, which is littered with caves. The girls saw a bunny rabbit on the hike, and got to climb through the caves, which were highlights of my own childhood hikes.

Here's Cody up by the top of the caves.

Cody, Star, Ellie, Annie and Grandpa Robert in one of the larger caves.

Greg and Ellie on their way down.

Annie & Ellie in the smaller caves -- these were my favorites when I was a kid.

Ellie, our little cave explorer.

Annie hiking along the stream. Annie and Ellie loved throwing rocks in the stream -- it was possibly the highlight in their eyes.

This is just a video of my brother Cody jumping the stream. I like the girly scream a lot. :-)

I didn't want to try climbing over the fence in my off balanced condition -- so I amused everyone else (and at this point, about 12 members of my Mom's extended family had shown up) by rolling under the fence on my giant pregnant belly.)

My family of law breakers -- well, except Annie. Who was off pouting somewhere.

Me, Annie and Star in front of the rock (and sign).

Ellie having a meltdown :-)

Here's Annie chilling out afterwards, Flat Rock behind her.

This was really a Memorial Day to remember. I don't know if I can even put into words how much it meant to me to go up and hike that rock again, hand in hand with my husband and alongside my children.