A Very Merry Christmas

Christmas Eve afternoon we bundled up and spent some fun family time sledding down a great hill on Campus. A sweet & generous friend took Rilla so I was free to sled without worrying about her. Nathan proved to really enjoy sledding. I wasn't sure how he'd do on a big hill or if we'd ever get him into his despised purple & pink snowsuit...but he had the best day ever as he sat in his sled and the rest of us had an extra workout taking turns pulling him & his sled back up the hill. Ray, being Nate's primary taxi service, was too exhausted to do much of his own sledding until I suggested he sled down with Nathan and then walk back up with him. Yes, he was actually walking down the hill....

We spent a nice evening eating dinner by candlelight. I actually set a fancy table setting with nice table cloths and an elegant centerpiece. When the children came in ooo-ing and awe-ing one of them declared, "Fancy!" Another exclaimed, "Wow, I wish we could do this more often." I can only imagine what would have been said if we'd actually used real dishes instead of our every day use of paper plates and if I'd omitted the use of a clear vinyl table cover over the linen.

At dinner, Emma asked me if we'd do the "Christmas Play." We, like many other families, act out the Nativity every Christmas Eve. Elizabeth had quickly volunteered to prepare some costumes and props. It is so fun for me to watch them busily prepare. I remember the huge Nativity we'd do at my Grandparents Pearce's home. It was a magical time for me and I am happy it is for my children as well. All of the parts were designated. Luckily, no one protested Emma's desire to be Mary again this year. Rilla was nominated for the part of baby Jesus. She cooperated nicely. Elizabeth excitedly declared she'd be the angel. Tessa really wanted to be the shepherd with a sheep (that really was a goat puppet who pretended to be a sheep). Noah was forced to be Joseph again. Nathan, after listening to his siblings rantings about parts, decided he could be an angel, Joseph, a sheep, or a wise man. After being assigned a wise man, he wasn't sure that was what HE wanted. So for the hour before our play he proclaimed his desires for other parts to every member of the family. Each of us instinctively reinforced that he'd be a wonderful wise man. When Elizabeth showed him that he could wear a cape, he was content. Each of them performed the Nativity with reverence and respect.

I was feeling great. The day was wonderful and running smoothly. After the Nativity the children asked if they could open the traditional ONE present before going to bed. We gathered in a circle close to the tree as I passed out the pre-determined gifts. The older children weren't surprised to find new p.j.'s. But, Emma, was distressed to find that she and Tessa received matching jammies. She burst into tears storming around and screaming the injustice of it and vowing to never wear them. Somehow I managed to stay calm. I was remembering that I'd wanted to buy her Hannah Montana jammies instead, but the dad didn't want those so the only option was matching with Tessas. I hugged Emma and promised to never make that same mistake again. She must have believed me and felt my true sense of remorse because she put them on for a picture. I then began to wonder on what emotion we'd all go to bed with and I began to worry...Luckily, I agreed to allow Emma to set carrots out for the reindeer. We all went to bed happy.

Christmas Picture

I don't think I've sent out Christmas cards for the past nine years....It began to be a tedious task that I eliminated in trying to simplify. This year I am going to send out an electronic greeting and decided we needed an updated family picture to attach to it. I thought the best chance we'd have was to take it immediately right after church while we were still somewhat dressed up (and hopefully looking our best). Well, we actually got around to it an hour after church. After a couple of disputes over "who gets to sit by who" and "who gets to sit where" we ended up with seven pictures; this being the best. At least Nathan is smiling and Rilla isn't screaming and no ones undies are showing. :)

The Best Christmas Gift

Rilla just had her two month DR visit. She is growing so quickly and time just keeps flying by. I was surprised to learn that she weighed nearly 11 pounds. She is a cute and healthy baby with a good temperment so I was horrified when the nurse informed me that Rilla would be receiving five pokes. I wanted to know why they didn't have the combination vaccine and regretted asking when the nurse told me (in a matter-of-fact way void of any sympathy) they were out of them. Rilla, however, took the shots bravely and quickly went to sleep afterward--perhaps to slip away from reality.

Since Rilla & I were alone, I decided to make a quick stop to the store to pick up a couple of Christmas gifts. As I was pushing the cart down the isle of ornaments searching frantically for a large jingle bell, a woman came around the corner towards me. She smiled and boldly put her cart at an angle forcing me to stop and look at her. She then stated in a serious yet gentle voice, "You have the best Christmas present right there already." She moved her cart and allowed me to pass. Thank you to that stranger for kind words that reminded me how truly blessed I am. What a wonderful time of year to have a precious baby.

Our Little Lady

Modesty is important to me. We spend a lot of time discussing what appropriate dress is and how to sit politely in a dress. In spite of all of my efforts to help my daughters become little ladies, in church yesterday, Tessa pulled up her dress to pull up her tights. Since Ray and I were three and four chairs away from her, we just smiled at each other and rolled our eyes. Guess I'd better stay clear from modesty discussions for awhile.

Do Me A Favor?

Last night my cousin, Kristine, was doing her laundry. Nathan was happy to keep her company. I sat in the adjoining room listening to him ramble on and on and feeling grateful to Kristine for listening and even conversing with him. All of a sudden Nathan ran out of the laundry room cradling a pink little pillow under his cheek. I thought perhaps he was up to no good, and so I promptly asked, "Nathan, are you suppose to have that pillow?" And then I quickly added, "Does Kristine know you have her pillow?" As he galloped around in a little circle still clinging to the pillow he smiled as he responded, "Kristine gave me a favor!" Being a little slow to understand, I asked again, "Does Kristine know you have her pillow?" In a very grown-up and serious manner he replied, "Mom, Kristine gave me a favor to go and put the pillow on her bed." Off he went to do her the favor. I am still smiling.

Thankful for Thanksgiving

• Tessa had a wonderful time in Kindergarten learning about Indians & Pilgrims.
  

• In fact, Tessa's account of all she'd learned was so thrilling that Nathan joined in. And, without any practice or training, he seemed to follow all of the hand actions perfectly & in sync.

Halloween costumes & decorations wore me out and so I decided to not decorate for Thanksgiving. Fortunately, one of the blessings of public school is that they provide all the decor any sensible home needs.

• Noah made this adorable turkey bread basket for our rolls on Thanksgiving Day.

• Emma's turkey adorned our entry hall table.We spent Thanksgiving weekend in Park City at Snydermill with the Cook Family. I will be forever indebted to their kindness & hospitality! I am not quite sure who has more fun, me or my children.

• Elizabeth playing Tennis on the Wii.
• We all had fun being introduced to the Wii. Ray became a competitive bowler and I had fun rocking out with Nancy.

• Of course, Noah & Michael enjoyed the X-Box, among other activities involving fire, and teasing Emma.

• Tessa acquired a new trick.

• Emma couldn't allow her little sister to out-do her.

• Rilla loved being passed...

• and passed....

• and passed...Is it any wonder that she stayed up all night? I am sure it is because she missed me during the day.

• We all enjoyed countless games....Nertz, Phase 10, Upwards, Boggle....
• Of course the food was wonderful!

• Nathan loved collecting his "babies" (BB's).
• He also loved being the center of attention and showing off his light-up Thomas the Tank Engine shoes over and over again....
  
• Ray & I loved that Nathan was the center of someone else's attention :)

• Who can have Thanksgiving without a Turkey Hunt? Although, I think in this case maybe the hunter and the turkey were one and the same.
• Thanksgiving is a truly lovely holiday to relax & reflect on all of our blessings.
  

Trick-or-Treat

• Grandma likes to call Nathan and all small children, her "punkin." Nathan always refused this term of endearment with a firm voice stating, "I am not a 'pumpkin,' I am Nathan." On Halloween night we dressed Rilla in this cute onesie. Nathan admiringly commented, "Rilla is Grandma's Pumpkin."

• I have been a bit behind....However, I suppose since retailers and radio stations could promote Christmas the day after Halloween, I can post our Halloween update 12 days before Christmas. I am happy that my children even had costumes to wear. I had come home from the hospital on a Saturday evening and sewed 2 costumes before Wednesday evening and only had purchased the fabric Tuesday afternoon. I am grateful to Wall-Mart for their bargain fabrics which inspired the "Snow Queen" and "Jawa" costumes which only cost me $6.00. Tessa prefers to be animals for Halloween and luckily, I remembered I had made Ray & Noah matching Duck costumes 6 years ago. Of course, once Nate saw Tessa's Duck costume, he could no longer wear the frog costume we'd already acquired for him, so I quickly made a few adjustments to Ray's duck costume so he could match Tessa.

Let's Do Something Fun

In spite of my pleading, no one would take Nathan outside to play. Of course, being left out is a complete bummer even for a two-year-old. To cheer him up, I asked him if he'd like to do something fun? He enthusiastically asked, "You mean laundry?" I smiled and answered, "No, something a little more fun than laundry..."

I introduced Nathan to the fun of using an apple peeler/corer. It was the most fun we've had in a long time :) until we ran out of apples to peel.

Monday Night Madness

This week's Family Home Evening was a real catastrophe. Emma started off the night by reading aloud her 10 page story she'd written at school. Nathan found a pink balloon and thought it was more interesting to hit it to Noah than to listen. We allowed him to play until the balloon hit the baby in the head twice, my head thrice, and Noah began to encourage dialogue as the balloon was beaten into our heads. Emma, wanting our full attention would pause for each interruption so the story took over 30 minutes to read. Meanwhile, Rilla, didn't seem to appreciate Nathan's balloon play and she started to fuss. Ray and I were so tired that everything seemed to be happening too slowly and when Elizabeth started asking questions about the story we both quickly suggested she could read it to herself again later if she missed parts of it. I thought, "Please don't let Emma get upset that her older siblings didn't understand the story and that is why they're asking questions...I can't take an Emma tantrum right now." Luckily, she at least didn't seem phased, so we got out our scriptures to read a chapter in Mosiah.

Abinadi is exhorting King Noah to repent of all his sins. Everyone was happy to take turns reading and we were having a nice discussion even through Nathan's new distraction. I had taken the balloon away and he found a toy gun to play with instead. So, as we're reading about the sins and evilness of King Noah, Nate insists on killing us all off one by one. Through our protests and pleads for him to not shoot at people, he took his gun, pointed it at Rilla and shot her. The knotted string thrust out hitting Rilla in the forehead. Ray yelled at him as I jumped up and took the gun away. The older children just kept on reading and asking questions like: "What are concubines?" "What is a harlot?" "What is a wine-bibber?" "Why would a girl choose to be a harlot or a concubine?" At each inquiry, Nate is trying harder to gain some attention, and yet the others are so absorbed in the scripture reading. Ray is choking on how to answer their questions and I am wondering what spiritually uplifting message are we missing? And, also, I thought that one can find all answers to ones questions in the scriptures...So, when Nathan, tackles Emma and Tessa and they start to scream I suggest we stop reading and sing Nathan's favorite primary song, "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam." The older kids have taught him to jump up on the high notes of the song and he loves it. Unfortunately, he was too wound up already and in the middle of the song, instead of jumping up, he jumped into Noah's groin and bit his private. Noah's painful yell chases away all hopes of ending on a spiritual note, so we concluded quickly with Nathan being sent to bed by a mad dad, and me telling everyone else to get jammies on quickly! After everyone had gone to bed and I was finally able to tend to baby Rilla's needs, I pondered on how Family Home Evening is a time to teach the scriptures and to foster love for one another. I can see how some might give up after a night like this one, but I'm thinking if we can survive this, then tackling other scripture stories, like Abraham's father trying to kill him, or why it was ok for Abraham to have concubines, will be a piece of cake.

In Two Seconds

I've been thinking about all of the times I respond to the requests of my children by saying, "In two seconds." For example: "Mom, can I have a cookie?" "No, we'll be eating dinner in two seconds.." OR, "Mom, will you read me this book?" "Sure, in about two seconds." OR "Mom, I need to leave for school now!" "I know, I will have your hair done in two seconds."

The other night I was getting ready for bed. My two year old came in wanting to use the toilet. He started to take his pants off, so I knew he was serious. I helped get his diaper off and set him on the toilet. He proudly announced, "I did it!" I smiled as I congratulated his success. I still needed to take my contacts out...I considered the time it would take me to find a new diaper, put it on, and get Nate into his pj's. I then considered it would only take me "two seconds" to take out my contacts and then I could devote my time to Nathan. I quickly pulled up his pants leaving him bare, but thinking since he'd just gone potty, what could possibly go wrong?

I had one contact out when Nathan exclaimed, "I need to go Potty!" Out of habit I responded, "Just give me two seconds..." I was assuming he just wanted my attention. As I reached for my glasses, Nathan was doing his, "I did it song and gallop" around my bathroom. Even without my contacts in my glasses gave me enough sight to see some dark smudges on my bathroom floor that I didn't remember seeing before. I quickly asked Nate, "What did you do?" He proudly told me he pooped in his pants. Yep, he did and without a diaper or underwear it was sliding down his pant leg onto the floor. He was enjoying stepping in it and squishing it around on the cool tile floor.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and begged him to hold still for "two seconds" while I would be running to get some rags and baby wipes to clean up the mess and then be able to get him into the tub. Two seconds later, my entire floor was painted with swirls of pooh. I think I need to re-evaluate using my "two seconds" response. Definitely, two seconds for a toddler is far too long to hold still and way too long to fly free.

Lactation Specialists

The best thing I did this time at the hospital was to request that a lactation specialist would not come to visit me. After all, Rilla is my sixth child. I have hated having a stranger come to my room to watch me nurse my baby. I have hated listening to rehearsed sales pitches on the benefits of mothers' milk. Most of all, I just hate the fact that some stranger feels entitled to critique my nursing skills, especially, when it works for me and my babies....

So, this time around, first thing I asked for was to not permit a lactation specialist to come to my room. The following morning I heard an announcement being broadcast throughout all the rooms on our floor: "Good Morning Mothers! We will be starting our lactation class at 10:00 am in the North East Lobby. All are welcome!" I started to laugh out loud. I am thinking that they must think all of us are on a special cruise ship and that a lactation workshop is equivalent to shuffleboard.

Postpartum Depression

Two hours after Rilla was born, my two nurses came in and told me it was time for me to get up. I still hadn't even held my baby yet, nor could I even feel my toes. I was tired and just wanted some rest. It was about 7 pm and I promised I would stand up by 4 am. Bright and early I had woken up to feed my baby and take some pain medication. I was aware of the time and my promise, but by the time 4:30 am rolled around, I found myself drained of all the energy I had mustered for this hurdle. The two young nurses came in and hurriedly explained how they wanted me to get up. My ears could hear them, but my brain wasn't processing their instructions and my body definitely wasn't responding. I felt hopeless and stupid. I just couldn't communicate what or how I was feeling. I remember one of the nurses "tenderly" sharing how she had had 3 c-sections and so she knew exactly how I was feeling. She then pleasantly told me how easy it was for her....

I remember looking at my husband across the room pleading for him to do something. He actually understood and came over to me. He helped me by practically lifting me off the bed and onto my feet. I immediately nestled my head into his chest as I sobbed. The pain was intense. I couldn't quite understand why the nurses had me get out of bed to the left, when the goal was for me to walk to the bathroom which was on the right...I just didn't know how to get my body around the bed and to the bathroom. My mind drifted back to high school when math teachers repeatedly drilled how the shortest distance between two points is a straight line and if that is true didn't my nurses know that they set me up for failure being that much farther from my desired target? All of these things running through my mind along with so much more...like why do these two nurses keep telling me how good they are, and will they just be quiet? Or, can I do this, 6 children, wow...or I am hungry, when did I last eat? Or, I have seen and held my baby once, and I don't feel any real connection and that is scaring me....So with all these thoughts and others running rampant I just cried and cried hiding my face in my husbands chest unable to speak, knowing the nurses were starting to worry I was losing it...and yet not caring what they were thinking about me. They let me lie back down realizing I wasn't going to take a step. I tried to rest a little but could not stop crying.

The DR on call came to see me a few hours later. As he came in he asked me how I was doing. I couldn't even speak. So, he assumed that I had a cold. I then burst out that I did not have a cold, but had been unable to stop crying. The pediatrician came in to give us an update on Rilla. He apologized for interrupting as he saw I was crying. My DR assured him he was not interrupting and invited him in. After the pediatricians 2 minute update he said a quick goodbye as he raced to the door. My DR looked quickly at me and then stated he had to go too. They both ran out of the room as fast as possible and I just kept crying. My logic knew I should get a grip but my hormones just didn't want to be logical. I was upset that my DR would just bail on me and a bit worried that the pediatrician would call social services or insist on a psych consult....

An hour or so later, breakfast arrived. I realized I hadn't eaten for over 24 hours since I had had the stomach flu the night before coming to the hospital. With some food in my tummy and a new nurse on duty (who is a friend of mine), I finally started feeling better. I felt like getting up and getting to the bathroom. I got my IV out! And, I made it up. My nurse and I were able to have a nice visit and laugh about my breakdown amidst 4 adults who had no idea how to deal with me. I was feeling good knowing that I wasn't in serious trouble because if I had been, the medical professionals in charge of me certainly hadn't done anything to help me.

So, while we laughed and I enjoyed visiting with a friend I started thinking about what if I had needed help...I know I have postpartum depression. I have learned how I need to deal with it. I know I need medication. Just knowing that it will be a problem, makes the craziness seem normal or at least able to endure until my hormones mellow out a bit. I realize that there are so many first time mothers who don't know what postpartum depression feels like and don't know how to ask for help or might not know they need help. Instead of having a surplus of lactation specialists who feel the need to convince even the mothers who already have committed to breastfeeding that breastfeeding is best...we should have postpartum specialists to listen to mothers' needs. Everyone worries about "baby" which is good, but we forget to worry about "mom" too. Even "mom's" DR is worried about "baby." But truly a baby is best when the mom is at her best.

Our Newest Little Cub

Rilla was born on Wednesday, October 22nd. After 8 hours of being on Pitocin, my body started to digress instead of the traditional progression that results in a healthy vaginal birth. A Cesarian was performed as there was concern that my placenta was too low to allow Rilla room to pass. And, a good decision was made for that is what had happened. After a couple days of shock, and healing, we are both doing well.
We came home from the hospital yesterday. I had turned in the birth certificate paperwork as we were leaving the hospital and I had a huge pit in my stomach about it all the way home. I had allowed my certainty to waiver as I listened to nurses' negative comments about my desire to name her "Rilla" so at the last moment, I looked for a new name. I really liked one I came across, "Talia." So, on a whim, I wrote it down and turned it in. The children had called for an update on our arrival time and a final name choice. I told them "Talia." The ride home seemed long, and I was having difficulty remembering what the name I had chosen was and how to pronounce it. This was not a good sign.
We drove up to the house and I caught a glimpse of what it might be like being famous and being stalked by paparazzi as the older children were jumping up and down cheering, while the younger ones were screaming at us while being restrained by the older ones so that they wouldn't get hit by the car. I wasn't foolish to think that the excitement was for my arrival, I knew the true star was the little package in the back.
As the van door was thrust open, each and every child welcomed "Rilla" not "Talia" home. I looked up and read the love notes the kids had posted on the garage door adorned with pink balloons and noticed the name "Talia" not "Rilla." It was clear to me that Rilla had come home and my desire for others to love and accept her name was foolish. We love our Rilla and she is here to stay :)
And, not a soul would dare argue with the 5 older body guards about their little sister's name or anything else for that matter. Each one of them would do anything to protect and defend her :)

Induce Me!

I just received a phone call from my nurse asking me if I was still planning to be allowed to be induced thursday morning....Ok....I am a bit suspicious at this point and after I assured her that indeed I am counting on it she offered me good luck and hung up. Tell me, seriously, why anyone who'd been scheduled an inducement by their DR would change the date? Especially, after months of pain??? Crazy.

Now, that I am feeling good that they are not changing the plan, I get a call from the DR himself, asking if I want to be induced tomorrow? Do I? YES!!! And so, while I thought there weren't going to be any surprises this close to the Plan, I have one. And this time, I welcome it!

October 20th

Emma's birthday. I suppose we had her party prematurely since I still haven't had this baby. I still wanted to make the day somewhat special for her. Ray and I found a new bike for her present. I was worried that she wouldn't be as excited about it as her dad was. She becomes very emotionally tied to things even old and broken things like her old bike. I had promised to make her favorite dinner--Beef Stroganoff (she insists on calling it noodles with gray sauce.) This description makes me feel like a less than healthy chef as I envision "grey" sauce being made with rat meat...yuck...but all of my disgusting images aside, I made stroganoff with 100% top grade USA Beef. I also was excited to discover that I had all the necessary ingredients to made Grandma Pace's famous chocolate cake. This had become a favorite for Emma. Grandma Pace, my great-grandma, died before any of my children were born, but each time I have made the cake my children get to hear me relate a story about the dear grandma whom made this cake a family favorite. Since Emma was two, she has loved geneology. She has had a suprising understanding of who she is in relation to family members who have passed on and speaks about them as if she's always known them. I am not sure if it's the cake or the tie to a grandma she loves the most.

Anyway, Tessa was thrilled to help me make and frost the cake. I suggested we wash 9 pennies to put into the cake as a fun surprise. This is another family tradition of mine initiated by Grandma Orba Pearce. Tessa was super excited to be contributing to this special dessert.

We barely finished the cake and dinner as Emma arrived home from school. We hurried and ate and loaded the car for a fun family outing to the pumpkin patch. Being family home evening night and a birthday, I thought this would be a special activity. The pumpkin patch is lovely. The mountains surround this farm. The leaves on the mountain are changing to give a lovely autumn display of colors. The wagon hay ride is 15 minutes of a relaxing drive through perfectly groomed orchards. The sun was setting and so the sky was lit with extraordinary colors of pink, blue, purple, gray, orange, and reds. I was so happy to be outside with my family in a beautiful place. The children (with the exception of Nathan) had a fun time running around the fields searching for the perfect pumpkin. I then realized, while it was lovely, I couldn't keep up with them to get perfect pictures, so I just tried to find a spot to at least enjoy watching them run. As I turned to look for Ray and Nate, I smiled because Nathan had finally allowed his dad to put him down so he could scoop up "a cute baby punkin." As Nathan picked up his pumpkin, Ray tried to scoop up Nathan again only to have him fall out of his arms and landing on his back. Needless to say, this ended Nate's idea of a perfect pumpkin and any hopes for enjoying this outing. Meanwhile, Tessa had fallen twice, in her efforts to keep up with her older siblings. She had scuffed her hands and had burrs in her shoes along with tear-stained cheeks and no pumpkin. At this point, my hopes for my kids to find a perfect pumpkin in the $1.00 range were dis-illusioned. I then invited them to find any pumpkin that they could carry without assistance and head back to the wagon. Now with pumpkins in tow and smiles once again, we boarded the wagon to head back to the barn. Luckily for me the nicest man let me on the wagon before the rest of the crowd stampeded. I tried to forget how immobile I am, the hayride brought me back to reality...as I couldn't step over the hale bales to get a seat, nor could I even stand up after the ride on my own--too close to the ground. Anyway, we had fun singing happy birthday to Emma in the dark on the ride back. She seemed a bit embarrassed and happy.

We were gone a bit longer than I had planned. We still had cake and presents to do. We walked in the house to find dog diarhea all over the floor. Who knew a tiny Chiawawa could be so sick??? The kids were restless for cake and ice cream, so I dished up after a hurried song and quick candles, while Ray cleaned up the dog's mess. We also had a neighbor stop by...phone calls....the craziness never ends. The kids were enjoying dessert and conversing about the treasured pumpkins when Ray finally finished and took a bite of his cake to discover a penny. Mad isn't a good enough desciption for his immediate disposition as he informed me that pennies have zinc and that they are poisonous...blah...blah...blah....I tried to calmly explain that I don't cook the pennies into the cake...they were washed....we've done it for years....Tessa started to cry thinking she was in trouble...no one wanted the pennies any more. I tried to comfort Tessa. I then louldlly proclaimed it was the best Grandma Pace Cake I'd ever made (as I licked a penny)...and it was.

The bike was ok. The dollar store porcelain doll was the favorite. Emma wouldn't finish her cake. Her pumpkin proudly is displayed on a table. Definately a memorable evening. Successful? Maybe. All I know is that I can't move at all today. One can only do their best and then hope that somehow the memories we hope to give our children somehow imprint the best parts and leave out all the bad ones. Ray, once calmed down, suggests if I have to put pennies into the cake to make sure they're the old ones....

Shop Clerk Show Down

Realizing that my baby is coming very soon, I needed to purchase a new nursing bra. Being on bed rest limits how much looking around I can do in stores so I thought I'd do some internet shopping first to see what is out there. With my first 5 children, I have a good idea of what works for me and what doesn't. Unfortunately, my favorite nursing bra is no longer manufactured....I am not impressed with the options at "Motherhood" and other maternity stores. I checked into some department stores and surprisingly found one I think will be great at JCPenney's. In fact, I was also thrilled to see it was on sale....better still. My two younger girls wanted to come to the store with me and I thought it would be an entertaining experience so off we went to the mall. Unfortunately, the real store, the one I can go into and see products, try them on, etc., did not carry this bra. I was disappointed, but thought I'd just ask the clerk to order it for me since I was there. However, the clerk had other ideas. She insisted I would love the other 2 options she had in the store. I stated clearly that I had looked at them but wasn't impressed. She proceeded to demonstrate the 2 choices and asked what size I wear. I again stated in a polite and firm voice that I had looked, and discovered that I did not like either bra and neither bra was available in my size any way. The "helpful" clerk asked if I really knew my bra size....she then looked at me and insisted I did not know my bra size and that I am bigger than I had stated. She tried (unsuccessfully) to tuck my shirt under my breasts to get herself a better estimate of my size to prove to me she knew better than me and then proceeded to tell me the medical truths involved with the changes in breast size while pregnant and nursing. At this point, I was mad. I only went to the store in hopes of trying the bra on and now I just wanted to order the bra I had liked. A long line was forming behind me trying to purchase their intimate apparel. I just wanted to accomplish one simple task and return to the comfort of my p.j.'s and bed. My two little girls looked at me with loving eyes, knowing I was ready to explode. I thought I would give it one more try and so I asked, "Would you please order this bra?" as I handed her the item number I had copied down off of my computer. She tried to look it up on her computer and then commented, "Well this particular bra is on the internet. I can only order out of the catalog." She then showed me the bra on her computer and it was twice the price for the same thing. I smiled, thanked her, and tried to leave for home just to order the stupid bra. She shouted after me, "Are you sure one of these bras won't work?" I turned to look her in the eyes, and calmly stated, "This is my sixth baby. I know what I like. I like this bra. You can't get it for me. I know my bra size. Please stop trying to tell me anything contrary to my convictions and.... have a nice day." Emma took one hand, Tessa the other, and as they squeezed my hands they smiled and asked if we had time to ride the escalator a couple of times before we had to go home. "Of course," I replied. "We definately need a fun diversion."

Amidst this crazy encounter my girls were hilarious. Before we met the super savvy salesclerk, I had asked Emma to help me look for the brand of bra I was hoping to find. She wanted additional information to help her search. I told her to look for any bra that said "nursing" on the tag. When she found the 2 options the store carried she was so excited. I asked her to bring me one so I could get a better look before I walked over to that side of the department. She did not want to touch it. I calmly told her it wasn't a big deal it was just a bra. She still didn't want to touch it. Tessa piped up and said, "Oh, what's the big deal it is on a hanger. Just touch the hanger...oh,I'll do it." At this point, Emma couldn't let her little sister outdo her. She grabbed one, Tessa the other, and brought me the bras. Although I didn't like either of them we had a good experience learning how to shop for bras. Both girls felt successful to find nursing bras and to actually carry them by the hangers. And of course, the escalator rides made everything better. :)

p.s. I finally ordered it on-line. Next time we'll just skip the too-invasive in-store experience and just go for the informal and private on-line shopping experience from the comfort of my p.j.'s.

Princess

Having 3 older sisters, Nathan is often exposed to princess themed games, movies, and dress-ups. Truly he is 100% boy who loves to dig in the dirt, wrestle, and play cars, but he also can appreciate the idealism found in a good fairytale. I was sorting through a box searching for something. Nathan came in and noticed a couple of pictures on the floor by my box. He pointed to one exclaiming, "Look at the beautiful princess!" I glanced over at the picture and saw that it was me in my wedding dress standing in a field. I smiled. Nathan shouted, "Isn't she a pretty princess?" And then all of a sudden, he smiled and stated, "The beautiful princess is My Mama." Of course, I smiled too and hugged him. Who says two-year-olds are always terrible?

Wrap It Up!

We have 3 birthdays to celebrate in October: Ray, Emma, and Tessa. Being 37 weeks pregnant and wanting to wrap things up in order to have some peace of mind before October birthday #4 arrives, I decided to hurry and have Emma & Tessa's birthday parties last week.

Tessa's birthday is on the 9th. I love to plan themed birthday parties and in the past have tended to get carried away....However, this time things went a little differently. I tried to give theme suggestions. I offered Tessa a bowling party or a swimming party. She wasn't interested. She adamantly wanted a "peanut butter play-doh" party. I finally realized that I was not in any shape to produce a fancy party and so we went for the simple play-doh party. Tessa loves it because not only is it fun to play with but it is also edible.

I set out a ball of dough for each guest and provided every cookie cutter I have available for them to play with. All of the girls and my other children had a great time. We had to clean up before they were ready to quit to do some other things. And, it was such a huge success that the girls did not want to part with their dough, so we wrapped it up for them to take home.

We also tied a pink balloon to each girl's ankle and tried to play the game where they try to pop each others balloons. None of the balloons popped and the girls were thrilled. My older kids seemed disappointed because they thought we were having a disaster until I explained that we were all lucky to still have our balloons to take home too.

We played musical mats(chairs) with Hannah Montanna as our "vocalist." Watching the little girls dance around and sing along was the highlight of my afternoon.

After presents, we served the girls some party mix of popcorn, fruit flavored mini marshmellows, and chocolate chips. We dished up some fun "purple cow" drinks and sang "Happy Birthday."

To end our party, we let everyone frost & decorate sugar cookies to take home. Again, what a simple and yet purely captivating activity.

The whole party lasted an hour & a half. I was able to sit and enjoy. My daughter had smiles and laughs throughout and all the guests went home happy. Elizabeth had a choir concert that night after dinner. I had been too tired to make a cake. Instead, I had prepared strawberry jello--Tessa's favorite food that I rarely make--and put the candles in it. We sang to her before we ate dinner and rushed off to the concert. We were worried that the concert might cause Tessa to feel left out, but instead she came home singing.
Simplicity is under-rated.

Friday morning I woke up unable to move. I suppose I over-did it more than I thought. So I rested the entire day to store up some energy for Emma's "Late Night" Party. Emma really wanted to invite girls over for a non-sleep-over party. Everyone came in p.j.'s. We did nails, hair-do's, and make-up. I also had each girl design a picture on a piece of white paper. With the magic of special crayons I was able to iron -on each design onto an over-sized white t-shirt for the girls to take home a personalized nightie.

For the most part, Emma's party went ok, minus the need for her to argue and fight with her older sister every two minutes...and not wanting any suggestions from me on what to do next....I made a silent committment to myself that we really might not ever need to have another birthday party again....

And, after all the girls went home, I laid down hoping that I could just have this baby tonight and be done with bed rest, pain, toxemia.....As I am envisioning labor coming at any moment and wishing my body back to normal, Elizabeth comes in. She comes very close sits down and whispers, "Mom, my book report is due on Monday, my science project is due on Tuesday, and my music listening write-up is due on Wednesday. I forced a smile and replied, "Well, I guess I know what we'll be working on tomorrow." She lovingly said good-night and went off to bed. I quietly cried myself to sleep. As much as I would like to "wrap things up" so I can have a baby without feeling anxiety about undone projects, it just isn't going to happen.

Messy Tessy

Tessa is our "Messa." I am not sure she can help but being a super messy kid. Her favorite thing to do is smear her food all over her face and hands. We try patiently to encourage using a fork during meals. We provide her with at least two napkins per meal. I think we're progressing a little because I can't always determine what we were eating by inspecting her laundry. Tessa's new favorite obsession is to touch every wall and to rub her hands, face, or feet along the walls especially after meal times. I have tried to explain in a rational manner about germs and my concern that as she licks walls, tables, and chairs she is not only spreading her germs that will grow and mold and spread bacteria, but she may also be passing germs to the other unfortunates living with her who may touch where she's deposited her filfth. So now she seems to mostly remember to go directly to the sink to wash her hands and face after dinner before she touches anything. We also try to explain that we just don't like her touching everything from here to there and would like her to stop it. This is taking longer to modify. Today I caught her swinging on a door and then rubbing her hands down the wall as she goofily walked down the hallway. I said, "Tessa" in a firm voice. She turned and looked at me with her beautiful eyes exclaiming, "What? I washed my hands!"

Academics?

Thursday evening, Elizabeth came to me begging to check her out of school early for Friday, the following day. I asked why? She told me it would be a "block" day where the last 85 minutes of school would be a "party." She told me there would be a movie and a dance. She didn't want to go to either. She felt like it was inappropriate to force students to do such things and she didn't feel good about it. I agreed with her. Social activities for Jr. High should be offered and students and parents should be aware of those activities to discuss them together and decide if they are good to go to. Whether or not Elizabeth was just terrified of too much interaction with the boys or if she truly had a bad feeling about attending the party, I as her mom love her for standing up for what she believes to be right. I for one, am glad to have a sweet girl who isn't ready to grow up too quickly.

The Pine Wood Derby

The family, without me, went to support Noah at the Cub Scout's Pine Wood Derby last night. Noah was pleased with his "swiss cheese" car carrying a mouse passenger. All were excited about how it would fare.

Two hours later, Noah bounces in exclaiming that he didn't win an award this year, but had a great timed! (Good Attitude)

Then my Emma comes in with tears rolling down her cheeks exclaiming, "It's not fair! Dad said maybe Noah would be helping Nathan with his car in a few years. Why can't I help build the card? Why can't I enter the pine wood derby? Why can't I even touch Noah's car?"

Truth be told...I'd just as soon forget the Pine Wood Derby, but knowing that wasn't going to comfort Emma, I just suggested maybe we could have a family car derby one of these days. Immediately, she cheered, telling me just what kind of car she'd build and asking me if we could start tomorrow. I looked down at my belly and then up at her and said, "Maybe not tomorrow, or even a few tomorrows...."

She seemed ok with waiting....but seriously....what did I get myself into?

Snakes

Nathan woke up pointing to his throat screaming, "Get the snakes out!" At first I was thinking he might be dreaming...and then I realized what he was talking about--goobies. I have never considered what phlegm and mucous must seem like to a two year old until today--snakes. So now that I'm understanding, we're working on it.

House Guests While on Bed Rest

I am grateful to have loving and concerned friends who have come by to say hello and check up on me. I appreciate it immensely. However, it's the visits that catch me off-guard in my p.j.'s and no bra for example, that I do not handle too well. For example, the other day someone came to the door needing some updated information from my husband. As he's filling out the paperwork, he invites our friend into our house to say hello to me because he's positive I would love a visit. I had been standing, leaning, in the kitchen trying to prepare dinner. I hadn't showered yet and I was sweating a ton. I felt gross and looked it too. In she comes, all dressed up with a lovely smile...I felt like a trapped savage animal. What do you do, but smile back, comment on how nice it is to visit, admit you're feeling fabulous, and try to fight the urge to hurt your spouse for being completely ignorant as to what you NEED and WANT.

I have the sweetest elderly neighbor who has just managed remission from a horrible battle with cancer, She called wanting to come visit. At that particular moment I was busy visiting with my children and felt like it wouldn't be a good time. She promised to call me later in the week. Then I began to stress about it. I spend most of my day in bed or on the couch on the second story of our home. The stairs would be too much for her to climb. And, I have trouble being comfy downstairs for very long....I also have decided that answering the door every time someone knocks is out of the question because then I am going up and down all day and not resting...so sometimes it feels like trying to accommodate others good will puts me in a bad predicament that isn't helping me out at all.

Sometimes bed rest is just a total bummer and I can't think of anything positive about it.

We are trying to sell our brand new house because it ended up being WAY over budget. Showing the house has been ok. The children and my husband have pitched in a lot to help clean the house to make a decent presentation....until today.

Yesterday, my DR informed me that I may be heading towards preeclampsia and was ordered to take bed rest to a more serious level (if that is possible). I also have to take a 24 hour urine sample which brings with it some interesting items to the bathroom scene.

So, this morning, and not feeling well, I stayed in bed, and was still in bed as prospective buyers arrived. I am sure the sight of me laying in bed was uncomfortable for them. I can't even imagine what they thought of the bathroom paraphernalia. And, all I can hope is that they could see past me, and the bathroom, and the cluttered house that I can't do what I'd like to do about it, and would still consider buying a home from a very sick pregnant woman who could give birth at any time....

Jr. High Update

My friend asked me today if we'd ever resolved the band book mystery...so I thought I'd update this story.

I sent my husband to parent-teacher conferences at the Jr. High last week. I guess all of the teachers congregate in the gym and stay their for awhile to see if any of us show up. I sent them to seek out the band teacher and show him our receipt. I am embarrassed to admit that he pointed out that he could sign off for "Chloe" Thompson, but not for Elizabeth. I never saw that the name at the top of my receipt was indeed "Chloe" Thompson...oops...although, still I didn't ever claim to have a Chloe....

My husband at this point was beginning to understand the nightmares I'd been through so he asked to speak to the principal. He of course, agreed that this "unusual" situation was a problem and that he'd have it straightened out immediately.

My daughter, Elizabeth, came home from school with a suspicious grin. She told me that the horrid lady from the office had found her in class, brought her a check for a refund (for a flute rental which was the other part of our problem, but I didn't write about that...), and expressed to her how that had never happened in all the years she'd been working at the school, and then gave to her a new receipt with HER proper name on it.

As she and I glanced at the receipt, we noticed that now, we've paid for some Spanish class fees and Elizabeth isn't enrolled in Spanish.....

Good Deeds

I promised myself that I wouldn't brag about my kids on this blog, so without bragging I just want to record something really nice. :)

Emma and Noah found $20.00 lying on the sidewalk on their way home from church. After walking around trying to find someone who might have lost it they decided to turn it in the office of our church leader.

A few hours later, a friend and neighbor, came by with her son wanting to talk to Noah & Emma. She related how her son had just received the $20.00 for a woman who had paid him for helping her with her pet care this summer. Then he lost it and was broken-hearted. He thought for sure that whomever found it would just keep it. He was devastated. And then, on a whim, after they'd searched for a long time around the block, they went in to see the church leader. He and his mom were pleasantly surprised that his $20.00 was waiting for him. Their prayers had been answered, and his faith in humanity increased.

I am happy that my children wanted to return the money even when $20.00 is a lot of money to two kids who don't have much of their own.

Kindergarten Color Days

Each day Tessa's K teacher has assigned a specific color for the children to come dressed in. Unfortunately, Tessa's brown capris were in the laundry. I probably take this way to seriously as I like to dress her from head to toe in the daily color. She has been reminding me each day that it is no big deal and a little color counts too. Still, I want to make the best color impression, so I began to dig through her drawers and hunt through her closet to find something all brown. No luck. I sat down contemplating other scemes...borrowing from older sister, pulling the brown capris out of the laundry....Tessa sweetly pulls out her camoflauge capris and states, "This has brown on it." "You are right," I replied, "Put them on." We found a cute green shirt to go with it and Tessa even let me put ribbons with brown circles on them in her hair.

My husband came home for lunch to eat with us and take Tessa to school. We asked him if he could guess what the color of the day is. He tried, "Beige, tan,.." Tessa rolled her eyes and gave him a clue. "It starts with the letter "B" dad." He tried again, "Blue, green..." Tessa laughed and told him he needed to practice his letter sounds. I sat there trying to see if he was joking---no he wasn't. He was clueless. Tessa then gave a second clue. "Dad, the second sound is "rrrr." "Brown!," he finally guessed.

So Cute!

Last night after the homework, dinner, dishes, & pandemonium came to a close as the four oldest children went to bed, I sat down. Nathan, my cuddly 2 year old, came and snuggled beside me. He put his arm around my neck and whispered, "You are so cute." In his reality I am and knowing that makes me smile, even though I'm a huge pregnant mama on bed rest..so what! Nate seeing me for all I am sent me to bed with pleasant thoughts.

Communication 101

Monday, the 22nd, Elizabeth had an orthodontist appointment that required me to get her out of school a bit early. I also had to prove to the office that we had paid for a band music book and see about getting a refund for the flute we'd rented and then returned because it didn't work. Trying to optimize my time and since I am not suppose to be out doing errands, I thought I'd go a little early and try to get everything done at once.

My first stop was the attendance office. I walk slowly. I am in a lot of pain too and so I'm sure that the office secretary took her first glance at me hoping I'd disappear so as to not have a baby in her office and mess up the carpet. I get it...first reactions are important, nevertheless, I waddled right up to her demanding her attention using my most polite voice and a smile. I asked her how to appropriately get my daughter out of class, since I am new to being a parent of a Jr. High student and this school. Without lifting her head to sneak a peak at my hideous state she shrugged a gesture towards the boy and girl students sitting down along a table from her. I am a college graduate so I inferred that I was to ask them. I repeated my question to them although I am pretty sure that they had heard me since we were the only ones in the office with only 3 feet separating us. I did not receive any verbal nor non-verbal replies so I sweetly informed them of my daughters name, grade, and the class I believed her to be in. The boy and girl began to debate something involving how many female teachers were employed by the school...and yet the boy seemed to be looking at some list of names. I remained patient. I still noticed that the one adult in the room still tried to look as if she was intently busy and couldn't possibly help me out...After the young man had turned four pages, he turned to the girl and said, "She's on your list." The girl began to flip through her pages, found my daughter's name and called the classroom. Wow, I thought, easy as a breeze...and it only took me 15 minutes...and I still have to face the finance secretary. I told the two helpful students that I would be across the hall in the other office so they could tell my daughter when she showed up. They seemed happy to help.

I entered the other office with more trepidation than I'd had in the attendance office. My prior experience with the finance secretary was disturbing and after comparing my experience with other flabbergasted mothers, knew I was in for another tidal wave of trouble. She of course, frowned with a similar disgust, as did the first secretary, when she saw me approaching. I think perhaps my presence might cause the principal to send out one more liability waiver home with students stating that the school is not required in any way to assist a pregnant woman. :)

I took a deep breath, smiled, and showed to her the receipt that she herself had given to me showing I had paid for a band book. I asked her if she could look up the "master receipt list" to verify if my daughter's name was on the list. Her face immediately tensed to purple and she defensively stated that I had proof of payment in my receipt. "Yes," I answered, "I do, but the band teacher doesn't seem to have his proof, and could we please check the list?" We bantered for several minutes. She kept saying that I had a receipt, and I in turn agreed and yet asked her to please have her receipt show the proof that my receipt existed so the band teacher would have an official list with my daughter's name on it to convince him that I had paid. I felt like I was looking up at her from the bottom of the ocean trying to speak and yet not able to. I was staring at the ONLY person in the entire school who has the ability to make financial transactions and she wasn't going to help me. Perhaps the mother bear in me surfaced, or the hormones, or the pain, or just the need for this woman to stop saying that I have a receipt, I don't know, but I lost it a little and blurted out my frustrations in dealing with a rude woman who should get on board with her colleagues to work out a better system to communicate. I for one did not understand how a band teacher tells my daughter that he'd gone to the office several times to double, triple, ..., check to see if her name was on the list. My daughter comes home crying to me. I come to the school to show my proof and all I get is an answer of , "Yes, your receipt shows you paid." Does anyone else see the insanity of this?

Finally, the woman turns on her computer. She finds "the List," and scans it for my daughter's name. She supposedly finds it, says some nasty things about the band teacher, and gloats that she did not make the error. Again, I'm thinking, "What error, I just want to see if we're on the List," but I keep my mouth shut. Instead, ,I say, "Thank you so much! Would you please print out that page for me and I will give it to my daughter to take it with her to band and then everyone will be at peace." She cirlces the name, too far away for me to see it, and throws the paper at me. My daughter hadn't shown up and I didn't need to hang around for a potential new round of impossible debate about the flute rebate, so I fled the office.

I nearly knocked over my daughter's counselor as I entered the hall way. Tears were beginning to flow--my body's way of immediately releasing stress. My daughter questioned me about my disposition in a loving way as her counselor began to scold me for allowing my daughter to wander the halls unsupervised and to not let it happen again, and why was I out of bed anyway? Restraining myself from unleashing an unkind reply, I put my arm around her, kept my eyes focused on the exit door, and bolted, in my best waddling way.

Being outside never felt so good until I gave my daughter "the List" so she could give it to her band teacher. She being extremely bright glanced at the circled name and asked, "Who is Chloe?" My flood gates immediately unleashed as I realized I'd have to do this all over again another day. And, we still had to go to the orthodontist.

You can't have your cake and eat it too

Sunday afternoon my 12 year old daughter, Elizabeth, asked me if she could make a dessert. "Of course," was my reply. Especially since one of the advantages to having your children grow up is allowing them to do things that you might not have time for yourself...and being on bed rest...baking is not on the list of my top priorities right now.

A couple of hours later I realized that Elizabeth hadn't even been in the kitchen so I asked her what she was going to bake and when...At that moment it was 6:30 pm. I remembered I had promised dessert to the other 4 children based on Elizabeth's enthusiasm to bake and if she wasn't going to bake I was in BIG trouble. Bed time was coming...and a promise is a promise. So, I did what a lot of wise parents do and I threatened my 12 year old with no computer privileges for the next day and bribed her she'd get an extra hour to stay up late if she'd just make something.

After some coaxing and multiple suggestions she agreed to make a yummy easy to make lemon poppy seed bundt cake. My 10 year old, Noah, loves this cake and was eager to help. He found the recipe and brought it to me for my approval and to get some tips. I thought everything was going great...

An hour later and I asked my kids about the cake. They told me it still wasn't cooked. I was concerned as I remembered it to only take about 40 minutes to bake. Another 40 minutes passed. Elizabeth said she finally took it out of the oven but sensed that something didn't seem quite right. For starters, she turned the cake out onto a plate and half of the cake stayed in the pan. I assured her that even with all the greasing and flouring it can happen to the best of us. I told her to scrape the top half out and put it on the cake like a puzzle, drizzle some glaze on it and no one would care. I really wanted her to feel successful to promote further baking skills and continue to bail me out of dessert dilemmas

My husband, Ray, was eager to assist the cutting and serving of a family favorite. Each child took an anticipated bite to only quickly spit it out. Everyone wailed in disappointment. Elizabeth came to me in distress. We reviewed the recipe in detail. The recipe called for one box of yellow cake mix. Elizabeth interpreted that to mean that she had to make that cake first according to the package instructions and then add my recipe to the batter. She ended up making a 7 egg cake with enough oil to be explosive, which may be why Noah complained of our kitchen being filled with smoke during the baking process...HMMM....

I am happy that while no one had dessert that night, no one really complained about it either. I did manage to drag myself out of bed and made The cake for them last night. It was devoured.

Morning Time

Being on bed rest during pregnancy has some perks...really. For example, my husband wakes up early to get my jr. high girl and two grade schoolers off to school while I get to sleep in. Now, the idea of sleeping in isn't great when there are so many things to be done, but, if you can't do those things, tricking your body into sleeping an extra few hours a day gives you less time to be miserable during the day knowing you can't do what needs to be done.

At any rate, sharing our bed with our 2 year old is getting obnoxious, and yet I love cuddling with him in the morning and having a special time alone with him. He usually speaks loving words to me, plays with my hair, and tells me he needs and loves HIS mamma. We sing songs and read a couple books before getting up to help sister Tessa get ready for kindergarten.

At 9:30 am, I woke up with my cuddly two-year-old nestled in my back. As I turned to look at him, my sweet cuddly boy erupted into a cranky dictator shouting out commands. "Where is my Emma, Where is my Noah, Where is my 'Lisbeth, Where is Tessa?"

"Nathan," I cooed, "Emma, Noah, & Elizabeth are at school." "Tessa is watching TV and I can hear daddy in the office working."

"NO," he screamed. "I need my whole family!"

He continued to call out to his oldest siblings refusing to believe that they would go to school without him. However, when Tessa came in to see what all the rucus was, he he immediately calmed as he spied thea chocolate chip cookie she held in her hand. As he reasoned with Tessa to let him have the cookie, and of course won his argument, he decided he'd take the cookie, but not her company to go with it. As I encouraged him to go watch TV with her so I could get up and get him some breakfast, he turned to me and screamed, "This is NOT Family Home Evening! I want to watch TV alone!"

And so I am asking myself, "What happened to the sweet boy who wanted his family 5 minutes ago and now prefers solitude? Not to mention, when did he develop his very good debate tactics?"