Wordless Wednesday, 31 May 2006

Better

Baby E is feeling much better. She still has a cough, but is starting to seem like her normal self again. The soy or whatever it was seems to have purged itself from my system. We're working on tracking down the ingredients to a couple of things I ate last night so we can verify that it was soy and not something else that caused her reaction.

A conversation I overheard between the two older girls while they were playing this afternoon:

"I'm Sleeping Beauty . . . where's my grandmother?"

"Your grandmother's not here yet. She's still in her mommy's tummy."

"Oh, okay. When will she come out?"

"She'll be born in a few weeks."

Sweetness

A few recent quotes from the girls:

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AJ came running toward me tonight, in a brief departure from playing on a friend's swingset. She spread her arms upward, laughing.

"Regradulations, Mommy! Regradulations!"

"Regradulations?" I asked, "What does regradulations mean?"

She laughed and hugged me. "It means it's a great day!"

"Really? Why is it a great day?"

"Because I love you!"

She ran off again to play with her friends, leaving me warmed by more than the sun.

MM was so excited to see me when I got home Sunday night. She laughed with excitement as she told me, "I missed you so much, Mommy! I'm so glad you're home. I wish you could stay with us all the days and all the nights, Mommy."

Baby E was thrilled to see her daddy when we got home. Last night she spent about 30 minutes just crawling back and forth between DH and me. She'd hug one of us, and then the other. Back and forth, back and forth, smiling and cooing huskily as she laid her head on my shoulder, then crawling over to wrap her arms around DH and pat him with one hand. She also learned how to blow raspberries in an attempt to give us slimy kisses.

Baby E had a great time with FMW and FMG's kids this weekend. There are several really cute stories that I'll try to find time to blog soon.

Sick Baby

Baby E has been quite sick the last few days. Doses of Tylenol Cold and infant Ibuprofen kept it mostly manageable while we were traveling Saturday and Sunday, and both Baby E and I enjoyed most of the trip.

We had a good time helping our friends drive to their new home Saturday and Sunday (we were in 3 different states over 2 days), and flew home Sunday evening.

Baby E is still sick. Last night was the most disconcerting, as several times she coughed and then seemed to be struggling to breathe. I was watching her carefully to see if she was in prolonged distress or changing color at all, but then she improved.

She was still pretty miserable today, but by this evening she seemed well on the way to recovery. She was happy and playful, eating pretty well, fever-free, and no longer coughing and sniffling so much.

Then I ate dinner.

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DH and a friend prepared it. DH was checking to see if I could eat things--he ascertained that I couldn't have the soft taco shells, but they found some corn tortillas with no soy in them for me.

Immediately after the next time she nursed, Baby E got really sick. She screamed and screamed, writhing and thrashing around miserably. She started having diarrhea, and her skin reddened and blistered wherever it touched her skin inside her diaper. I finally told DH that we needed to try to figure out what she was reacting to, because she was acting just like she did when I ate soy.

DH said, "Oh no. I'll bet there was soy in the taco seasoning. I didn't even think to check it. And did you eat the salsa?" (Yes.) "Oh. I think the salsa had soy in it. I'm sorry."

We finally ended up calling the doctor and asking what to do, because she was so miserable and it didn't seem to be letting up. The nurse on call said we could give her Benadryl to try to help.

Baby E finally fell whimperingly asleep in my arms, where she's sleeping now.

I'll "pump and dump" tonight and hopefully by morning the soy or whatever it was will be gone from my milk. I also had some coffee (mostly decaf) tonight (although that hasn't seemed to bother her lately). The combination of that along with the medicine we've been giving her for her cold might have added to her discomfort. We'll try to find out for sure tomorrow whether I consumed soy or not, so we know what we're dealing with.

It's a terrible feeling to know that my own milk essentially poisoned my baby and made her sick. And I've been so careful for the last 8 months!

The nurse also recommended that if she's still fussy tomorrow and/or doesn't seem to be getting well from her illness, that we should take Baby E in to see the doctor. So we'll see how she's feeling by tomorrow.

A long drive

I'm mostly finished packing and am taking off in the morning with Baby E to help FMW and family move.

Baby E is definitely sick, with a low-grade fever, cough, the snifflies and general misery. I've got a scratchy throat and am not sure if my excessive fatigue and achiness is from illness, sleep deprivation or just a flare-up of my FMS/CFS. The Former Military family also has what appears to be the same illness we've had (it seems to be going around our church), so I'm not too worried about spreading contagion.

We'll be driving all day tomorrow, between rest stops, so we're hoping the babies will sleep a lot and not be too fussy.

I'm still looking forward to the trip. Here's hoping it will be a safe and enjoyable one.

Ignore the sleep-deprived crazy woman over there---->

OK, so I'm operating on a total of about 4 hours of sleep in the past 48+ hours. This time it's not because I haven't been in bed--it's the old insomnia striking. All that lying awake in bed for 4-6 hours at a time gives me lots of time to stress out about not sleeping and what else isn't getting done. :)

A combination of elements (sleep deprivation, hormones, and other things) is really pushing the swing of my moods lately. One day everything is fabulous, the next I'm thinking the world is ending. Not the best approach to life, really.

I find myself embarrassed by my last post, and others. After all, I highly doubt anyone comes here because they want to listen to me whine. So, sorry about that.

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Last night was a little farewell gathering for my friend Former Military Woman. They're moving away, to a place where Former Military Guy (the one who had an emergency appendectomy several weeks ago) got a job and FMW is going to go back to school, to get training to do something she's always wanted to do.

I'm really happy for them, but sad that they're leaving. I'll miss her and their family. A lot. But I'm hoping this move will be a really good thing for them.

At the gathering last night, FMW mentioned that she really needed someone to ride with her on the very long drive with the kids, since they would both need to drive separately. Just simple things like taking a potty break at a rest stop become so difficult for an adult traveling alone with two small children. Especially when the baby is sick. She'd had someone lined up to go with her, but they had become unable to go.

So I told her I'd check with DH and see what he said. He, marvelous, giving and flexible guy that he is, thought it would be a good thing for me to go along to help out. So Baby E and I will be going along for the ride. Even though I'm adding an extra kid, it' still improving the adult-to-child ratio.

So, I'll be driving this weekend with FMW to their new home. Then on Sunday Baby E and I will fly back. We'll be on the same flight as FMG's brother or something who is riding with FMG to help load/unload furniture. So I'll have help navigating the airport, layover, etc. which will be nice.

I'm really glad that DH is so willing to be Solo Dad for the weekend so we can help out a friend. And I'm happy to get to have the extra time to spend with my friend. Hopefully it will be really helpful to her to have another adult along for the ride, and we'll get some good time to talk and enjoy each other's company along the way. It may turn out to be almost a mini-vacation!

Baby E is coughing this morning, so I really hope she'll be okay for the trip. The older girls are still coughing and sniffling, but seem to be feeling okay otherwise.

I have big plans for today and next week, to be more focused in both my tasks and in the time I spend with the kids. I think I'll go back to using a timer, set for 10-15 minutes at a time, to help keep me from getting distracted or spinning my wheels.

The situation's not completely hopeless, I keep reminding myself. After all, progress, not perfection is the goal. And I have a lot more things in life to focus on than a messy house--my three smart, beautiful, fabulous daughters, for one.

My family room still looks like this (forgetting for the moment the 8 bags of clutter waiting to be sorted in the garage):



The kids' rooms are pretty close to that, too . . . so at least they have room to play.

The dining room, living room and office look mostly like this:



The rest of the house is somewhere in between:



Today I have hope that, overall, things are moving toward the better end of the spectrum (that would be the family room end, in case you were wondering).

As Kevin and a few other commenters said, it's a matter of priorities. One thing I know I don't want is a lifestyle I can't maintain on my own. I do NOT want to need help keeping my house. And I think, as Jo(e), Casey, FlyLady and my husband have been saying, simplicity is key. Decluttering is probably the single biggest thing I can do to make my life easier.

Jo(e) said it well: "The easiest way to clean this house is to make sure we have very little stuff in it."

Today I'm going to try to do my morning routine. Then I'm going to set the timer and spend 15 minutes decluttering.

But first, I'm going to go and focus on my babies for a while.

Perfectionism . . . or not.

They say there are two types of perfectionists . . . the ones who try to do everything perfectly, and the ones who don't even try because they know they can never do it perfectly enough.

And then there are the ones like me, who fluctuate wildly and constantly between the two.

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"You need to lower your expectations."

"Stop making excuses . . . you need to expect more of yourself."

"Don't work so hard; you're burning yourself out. Stop and take time to enjoy life. Play with the kids."

"You just need to work harder. And play with the kids more, too."

"No, you're already working plenty hard. You need to work smarter. Stop spinning your wheels."

"Take a break, then you'll be refreshed to tackle the tasks ahead."

"Discipline yourself to get all your work done first. Then you'll have more time for other things."

"Your priorities are all wrong. There are things a lot more important than having a clean, organized home."

"It's not fair to you or your family NOT to have a clean, organized home."

"If you'd just get things caught up so things were clean and clutter-free, the whole family would be so much happier and more productive. You need to work really hard and get things to a manageable level, and then you can just maintain it. That will leave everyone free to focus on more important things."

"No, what you need to do is RELAX already. Stop stressing about it so much."

"Try harder."

"You try too hard."

"You're not doing enough."

"You're doing too much."

The internal voices are constantly at war. Are my expectations too high, or not high enough? Am I trying to do the impossible, or am I somehow sabotaging myself?

The absolute minimum I feel I need to do to keep my sanity is my morning routine.

The morning routine seems like a pretty simple list:

• Get dressed


• Shoes on


• Hair done


• Wash face, brush teeth, etc.


• Make bed


• Put away pajamas, pick up bedroom floor


• Start or reboot laundry


• Kids dressed/shoes


• Unload dishwasher


• Breakfast


• Dishes


• Wipe off kitchen counters


• Shine sink


• Kids' morning chores done


• Turn on lights/music (this is more a mood booster than a necessity--not a big deal if it doesn't happen)


• Lunch planned/started


• Dinner planned/started


• High chair tray wiped off


• Kitchen table cleared off/wiped down


• Water plants as needed

My goal used to be to get the morning routine done by lunch time, then to do an afternoon routine and an evening routine. They seem pretty simple too.

Afternoon:

• Pick up hot spots (5-15 minute job)


• Fold & put away laundry


• 15 minutes working in the week's zone (one particular area of the house that rotates weekly)


• Bathrooms (brief wipe-down, check supplies)

Evening:

• Dishes


• Start dishwasher


• Wipe off kitchen counters


• Shine sink


• High chair tray


• Kitchen table cleared off/wiped down


• Think ahead to next day's meals, put meat in fridge to thaw if necessary


• Feed/water hamster


• Check schedule, update calendar


• Update to-do list


• Write down any money spent that day


• Get ready for bed


• Lay out clothes


• Take any dirty laundry upstairs


• Plug in cell phone


• Quiet time (2-5 minutes minimum)


• Go to sleep at a reasonable time

If I got all that done every day, I would be thrilled. I think that would be enough to basically keep things under control.

But, realistically, I'm lucky if I get my morning routine done by bedtime. I'd be happy if I got the morning and evening routines done, and thrilled if I also got the afternoon routine done.

But the minimum is the morning routine. It's not ideal, but okay, if that's all I get done.

Most days--lately the vast majority--I don't get even that done.

It doesn't seem that unreasonable to do at least the things on the morning list.

But by the time I help the kids get dressed and ready for the day, feed everyone, change diapers and figure out activities for the kids, I'm struggling to just get myself dressed and get a load of dishes done by the end of the day, much less doing my hair or finding everyone's shoes.

It seems so simple, so minimal. How can it possibly be so hard to get those simple, basic things done?

How can I work so hard, and yet fail so miserably?

But of course

That's what my husband says, too . . . definitely Elizabeth Bennet.

Which Classic Female Literary Character Are you?

You're Elizabeth Bennett of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen!

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Somehow, I think Monk would approve

When DH asked me how my day was tonight, I told him that I hadn't been very functional today, and that all the coughing was beginning to drive me crazy even though (especially since?) I'm not the one doing the coughing.

Also, Baby E was extremely clingy today, and thirsty (for mama's milk, of course, after her near-nursing-strike all week), which made it hard to get much else done. It could be the several teeth beginning to break through her gums, or could be the scratchy throat and cough coming on.

So DH sweetly offered to give me a break tonight. Some time to myself.

Would I like to go out for coffee and some quiet time? Sit in the parked car in the driveway and read? Go shopping? Take a bubble bath?

Trying to decide what to do in such situations is always a challenge for me. With that much freedom on my hands, I simply don't know what to do with it. What is there to do, all by myself?


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I confided in DH that I had a burning desire to go out and buy something, anything. I wasn't sure what I wanted to buy, but I wanted to buy something. I was also craving chocolate.

He said, "Erm, maybe you should go somewhere where there isn't anything for sale."

Then he fished a Barnes & Noble gift card out of his pocket and suggested that I take it and spend the $5 remaining on it to buy something at the coffee shop in the bookstore, sit at a table and relax.

It was a great idea. But I didn't want to take too long away and the idea of spending half of my time out driving there and back just didn't sound ideal. And neither shopping nor eating seemed the best way to handle my restlessness.

The evening was perfect. It had rained earlier, but now the air was just crisply damp and clear, refreshing but not too cold. So I decided to go for a walk.

It was just the thing. Some fresh air and exercise might help my energy levels and general achy-ness. And a walk in the quiet evening air, by myself, at my own brisk pace? A perfect luxury.

So I walked around the neighborhood, greeting the neighbors, talking to God, enjoying the silence in which to think, and humming to myself a bit.

Toward the end of the lap, I started wondering what the distance was around the cul-de-sacs and streets that make up our subdivision.

So the second time around, I counted my steps. I'm sure the neighbors must have wondered at my muttering to myself as I hiked by. I was pleased to notice that it was about 100 steps per what would have been a block if we'd been in the city.

At the third corner, I realized I should be keeping count of the hundreds on my fingers. I wasn't sure whether I'd gone 300 or 400 steps, and the last straight stretch seemed twice as long as the others. I kept counting, stopping several times on my way back along the other side of the street to try to calculate whether I'd miscounted along that stretch.

When I got back home, I still wasn't quite exactly sure whether I should be in the 1500s or the 1600s. So, even though I felt I'd already had a pretty good workout, I did it again. Because I couldn't stand not knowing exactly how many steps it was.

From a particular line in our driveway around the subdivision, looping around the two cul-de-sacs, crossing at the ends of the streets (one a dead end) and coming back along the other side, I came up with the same count both times. 1,530 steps. Plus 26 steps each way from the front door to the driveway and back. If I cut the end of the street at the main road a little longer, I could make it an even 1,600 steps.

Now I just have to figure out how many of my walking steps are in a mile.

One time around at a comfortable walking pace takes me about 15 minutes. When I was walking regularly, I generally did a 20-minute mile, so that gives me a rough idea. But I think sometime tomorrow I'll step off 25 steps and then get out a tape measure.

Yes, I did find myself thinking of Monk.

I did greatly enjoy the walk, and feel refreshed by it. I'll have to make a habit of this walking thing.

Coughing and Sleeping

• We're sick. Again. Yes, it had been, what, a week or two since our last bout of illness? It's a coughing thing--horrible-sounding cough, mild fever, body aches, etc.
  
  We started coming down with it Saturday night, after our company left. I hope none of them catch it. So far it's hit AJ and MM full force. Baby E, DH and I are fighting it but haven't developed full-blown coughs at this point.
  
  Everybody's feeling tired and under the weather, though. Which is why this post is mostly sort of pointless.



• Baby E is sleeping much better. She is pretty much on a schedule now, napping around 10 and 2 and going to bed for the night around 9.
  
  Wow, it makes such a difference to have our evenings do to something other than engage in an hours-long sleep battle.
  
  We're getting a 4-5 hour stretch at the beginning of the night, and then she usually wakes up quite a few times after that until she's up for the day at 8 or 8:30. Last night, though, she only woke twice during the whole night.



• I still need to work on getting myself to bed before midnight. I'm trying to develop routines and a schedule so I'm not staying up late trying to do dishes, laundry, etc. after I should be in bed.



• The kids just went down for naps/quiet time, so I'm going to take a nap too. [Update: Of course, Baby E's ESP told her the moment Mommy fell asleep, and she woke immediately, after an unusually short nap. :) ]

Sock Legwarmers

Here's how I made the leg warmers shown in the Busy Baby post:

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Take a pair of socks (I used ladies' crew socks), and cut off the toes. Sew some 1" fold-over elastic (FOE) around the cut part. Baby E's legs are chubby, so I stretched out the socks a bit and then sewed the FOE without stretching. Depending on the width of the sock and of your baby's leg, you might need to stretch the elastic as you sew (narrower), or stretch the sock but not the elastic (wider).

If you don't have FOE, you could make a casing by turning the cut edge of the sock down, and then put in some elastic (wider is better for this purpose, I think). I'd measure the width of the baby's leg, cut an inch or so longer than that, and adjust to fit before sewing it up.

The cuff of the socks goes near baby's feet, the heel (if there is one) at baby's knee, and the part where you added the elastic at the thigh. You can turn up the cuffs or leave them down to adjust the fit.

They're not as cute as BabyLegs, but they work. Legwarmers are great for keeping a child's legs warm under clothes that leave a gap between the knee and the ankle, protecting knees for crawling, and covering the legs while allowing for easy diaper changes or EC (elimination communication).

Custom Bullets in Blogger

You can use cascading style sheet definitions to change the bullet points in blogger:

Look for the section defining CSS post attributes (the part of your template that starts /* Posts
----------------------------------------------- */)

Add this code (I added it at the bottom of the section, but you can do it wherever):


.post ul {
list-style-type: none;
padding-left: 0;
margin-left: 0;
}

.post li {
background: url(http://www.locationofbulletimage) left top no-repeat;
padding-left: 15px;
margin-bottom: 10px;
}

The parts in green are the parts you will change to customize the look. You will need to store the image you want to use as your bullet online somewhere, and put the URL in the background tag. The padding-left tag tells the browser how far to the left to move the text, so it's not overlapping the bullet.

To apply the changes to the entire page (not just the posts) or to use it on a regular page, put the code in your header and leave out the .post before the UL and LI tags. Here's a page with instructions for that.

Third Weekend in May, 2006

Cousins and Other Relatives:


• Baby E, Baby GE (Baby G's middle name is the same as Baby E's first name) and Baby JL adore each other. Baby J (9 weeks) looks on while Baby E (9 months) and Baby G (5 months) pat each other's heads, grab each others' hands, poke each other in the eye, kiss each other and try to wrest toys away from each other.
  
  My camera batteries should be recharged by morning, so I'll try to get some shots so I can share the overwhelming cuteness of it all.



• AJ and MM are having a blast with their cousin JC, who is close to their age (slightly younger). SIL The Artist (JC's, William's, and GE's mom) taught them how to play Trouble. I was amazed at how well they did with what seemed to me a rather complicated board game. I was also impressed at nephew JC's ability to quote the entore 23rd Psalm.



• AJ has been constantly telling us all at regular intervals that "Everybody makes mistakes sometimes."



• AJ has also become quite the arbitrator. When several kids got into an argument about trains earlier this week, she was the one who said, "I know! Let's pile all the trains in the middle and take turns picking until they're all picked. That way we'll all have the same."



• MM insists she can't read. But if I pretend I can't figure out a word when we're reading a book, she'll read it to me.



• We're having a good time with our family (although disappointed one of the planned guests couldn't come this weekend--I'll have to blog a story about him to get him back for not coming :) ).
  
  SIL The Artist and I stayed home with 5 of the kids while the rest went to Worship Leader Nephew's college graduation. When they all got back we played Settlers of Catan, which we just finished around 1 a.m. (and which I lost miserably).
  
  It's so funny how different people approach games. JL's parents try to be so "nice" when they play--even creating a rule that you don't HAVE to steal when you land on a 7. (People familiar with the game will understand this subtlety--online version here, but don't say I didn't warn you if you get addicted to it--because you will get hooked if you play it a few times.) I'm a cutthroat player with no mercy in my strategy, but I don't mind losing. I guess I don't get my feelings involved too much.

Hopping Bullets

. . . Just because I need to justify the time I spent making those silly kangaroo "list item" bullets, and because they're kind of fun to look at even though they're dorky.


• My use of the word "wreckage" to describe my home in my last post was a slight exaggeration.
  
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  I did, however, start really tearing into the house on Monday night. I'd had it with the clutter and started in on the family room (the cleanest room in the house, comparatively, and the room I'm trying to keep babysafe since it's the room I put Baby E down in to play).
  
  Sofa pillows, toys, shoes, DH's briefcase (sorry, Dear--but you haven't used it for at least several months), scrap paper, picture frames, books, you name it--all went tumbled together into black plastic garbage bags which I stowed in the garage. I did pull out REALLY important stuff, like the checkbook and our passports (which had been sitting around since our trip to Mexico in February) and put them away, but mostly I just shoveled stuff into bags, tied them, and plopped them in a pile in the already-chaotic garage.
  
  The family had been warned many times not to leave clutter or things the baby couldn't have within Baby E's reach in that room and that anything left there would disappear. So I figured it was all fair game unless it was something extremely important or valuable (I did save out MM's Special Blanket Without Which She Cannot Survive). Actually, it was something we had discussed and agreed on (making that room essentially the playpen and keeping it neat), not just something I was imposing helter-skelter on my family.
  
  There were at least 8 garbage-can sized bags worth of stuff just in that room--the cleanest and most clutter-free room in the house.



• Plus, since my SIL The Mentor was planning to come this summer--starting next week--to help me declutter, organize and get rid of the majority of our "stuff", I figured the bags wouldn't sit in the garage for long before we dealt with them.



• DH and I have spent long evenings discussing things and doing some problem-solving about everything from Baby E's sleep issues to household and family stuff to communication issues all week. Which means that I haven't had time for blogging, but it's probably a good thing that my marriage is a higher priority than my blog--you think, just maybe? A side benefit of all that talking is that I can hardly wait for him to get home at night because I'm looking forward to spending time with him.
  
  Interesting, how spending time together can actually make you want to spend more time together, isn't it?



• We have decided that Baby E is apparently just one of those kids who needs a schedule with little to no variation. Because, with our easy-going lackadaisical attitude toward schedules, we keep messing up her sleep habits. Every time we get them established, we get lax about enforcing them, and with the slightest variation it all goes out the window. Then it takes at least two weeks of hard work to get her sleeping again.
  
  Somehow it dawned on us that banging our head against the same wall over and over again is giving us bruises on our noggins. That one or two nights of keeping her up late or getting her up 10 minutes after we lay her down because she's crying so pitifully just isn't worth it. Everyone--including Baby E--is just so much happier when she gets adequate sleep.
  
  This week I reached a point where, both physically and emotionally, I just wasn't able to keep up the hours and hours of trying everything to get her calmed down and go to sleep, and then staying up with her for 2-3 hours in the night because she doesn't want to go back to sleep after a nursing session. If we went into the room, stayed in the room, or held her until she went to sleep it only seemed to make matters worse once we left the room.
  
  Then she decided that if she cried long and hard enough, we would come back in the room or get her out of bed.
  
  So there's no more getting her up after we put her in the crib. She stays there once she's put down, period. (Unless she was obviously sick or hurt or something other than mad because she doesn't want to go to sleep, of course, but that hasn't happened yet.) As long as she's not crying hard for more than 20-30 minutes, or sporadically for more than an hour, she doesn't get up. She cried for an hour or more the first few nights.
  
  Well, not for an hour straight.
  
  It was more like this:
  
  Cry in great sobbing, painful-sounding, genuinely upset screams for 15 minutes. Pause. Listen to see if Mommy or Daddy is coming. If I see them in the room or hear their voices, scream louder and cry harder. If they try to pat me in the crib, push their hands away angrily because I do NOT want to relax.
  
  Pause. Play with toys in crib and coo to self a bit. Start to fall asleep. Remember--Oh yeah! I'm Mad because I don't want to go to sleep! Cry frantically again.
  
  Pause. Notice a toy. Scream loudly but unconvincingly a few times. Play a bit more. Yell a couple of times just in case Mom and Dad are paying attention--don't want them to think I'm giving in or anything. Because that would be Bad. They might make me go to bed more often, and I don't want to waste time sleeping--I might miss something!
  
  But that genuine-sounding crying sobbing thing is getting a little hard to muster now. Because I'm not really that upset. But I don't want Mom and Dad to know that, because I want OUT! of this CRIB! Cry a little more.
  
  Lie down and relax momentarily. Sit up and yell AAAAH! a few times, just to hear my own voice. Lie down. Bounce in the crib and hum to myself to try to stay awake. Yell some more. Fall asleep mid-holler.
  
  So now our goal is to set strict nap times and bed times and stick to them. I'm not a strict schedule person, but it seems that Baby E and our household schedule need this. We'll give it a try for a few weeks anyway.



• The older girls have been fabulous. I wish I had time to give highlights.



• SIL The Mentor fell off her roof yesterday and smashed her right foot to smithereens. She refused to have surgery (pins, reconstruction, etc.) tomorrow morning as the doctors wanted because her son is graduating from college tomorrow night. So she'll put up with the pain until next week, when she'll have surgery, and then she'll be out of commission for several months. She's a strong, brave woman.



• We'll have 3 infants, 3 preschoolers, and 7 adults (counting us--and my kids are the oldest of the bunch) staying at our house for the graduation occasion, starting tomorrow. Which will be fun, if perhaps a bit chaotic. I'm looking forward to that.



• No chicken pox. The friends' kid apparently didn't have pox after all.



• Time's up! Goodnight.

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We're having a rough week here with sleep (or rather non-sleep) issues, teething (or something--don't know what!), household wreckage and other stuff, so I'm not sure how much I'll be posting for the next few days.

Monday Memories: The White Dress

Did I ever tell you about THE WHITE DRESS?



I always wanted a white dress growing up; I'm not sure why. I'm a winter in coloring, so white looks good on me and I've always just liked it.

However, whenever I got a new dress (or new to me; most of our clothes were usually second-hand), practicality (a.ka. the voice of my mother, *grin*) won out. I had a lot of dark or bright-colored print dresses, which I also liked.

When I was a teenager, we were getting ready for a family trip to Mexico. My mom and I went shopping for a practical, cool and suitcase-friendly dress.

I don't remember where we were shopping; probably someplace like Fred Meyer, Sears or Ross. But I saw this dress.

It was a white ankle-length dress, with a soft floral print and a white-on-white pattern in shiny pearlized threads knit into the background. It was a simple cut, with princess seams and a button-down front. The little lace collar set it off, and the waist ties at the back customized the fit.

It was brand-new, and it was on sale at a price we could afford.

I loved it.

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Mom was a little doubtful about a dress that was primarily white, but agreed after some discussion that the print would probably help hide any stains. So we bought it.

The dress packed beautifully for the trip. It was a type of fabric that could spend days crumpled in a ball and come out completely unscathed, with only the collar needing a bit of smoothing.

I wore that dress to Mexico, to church, to weddings, to picnics and any time I wanted to look especially nice. It always made me feel dressy, but was a simple enough style that it was appropriate for more casual occasions as well.

When DH and I were courting, he mentioned that he really liked that dress. So I wore it as my leaving-the-wedding outfit, and had my first dinner as a married woman in that dress. That was almost 7 years ago.

After I had my first child, AJ, I wasn't sure the dress would ever fit me again. After all, most people aren't still wearing clothes they wore in high school after they have babies--for more than one reason. So I packed it away in the back of the closet.

A few months later, DH wanted to attend the wedding of a friend from college. A lot of people that he knew but that I had never met would be there, including old roomates, friends and a couple of former girlfriends that he particularly wanted to talk to.

I was, to say the least, nervous about meeting this crowd of people from DH's past.

I was feeling frumpy and decidedly unattractive as a new mother, and panicked about what to wear. I didn't have anything that seemed appropriate to wear to a wedding that I would be able to nurse in at all. My only relatively nice nursing-friendly dress was black. We had no money to buy a new dress.

At the last moment, I decided to try on the white dress, just in case. It fit. Actually, with my new nursing figure it fit even better than it had before I had AJ. Someone had given us a frilly white dress for AJ as a baby shower gift, and it went perfectly with my dress. She looked darling in it.

I stepped into the white dress and suddenly felt presentable--even attractive again. DH literally did a double-take when I walked downstairs, and told me how gorgeous I looked whenever he looked at me throughout the evening. That helped me to meet his friends with confidence.

The photo above was taken that day.

I continued to wear the dress whenever it fit between babies. I always wore it with imitation or freshwater pearls and the white strappy shoes I'd bought for our wedding. It always made me feel pretty, even during the seasons I was feeling particularly unlovely.

Yesterday I wore the white dress for Mother's Day. It still fits, and it still looks almost as good as it did the day I bought it. There are a few tiny yellowish stains on it, but as my mother guessed, they blend right into the floral pattern and you'd never notice them if you didn't know they were there. The buttonholes need a few stitches to tighten them after being stretched so many times, but that's an easy repair to do. The collar is starting to show a bit of wear and the fabric is a bit less shiny than before. But all those things are pretty minor. The dress still looks awfully good for as many years as I've been wearing it.

My wedding shoes are finally falling apart (a strap broke yesterday, but I think I may be able to repair it), but the dress is still going strong.

My girls looked up as I walked into the room and said, "Wow, Mommy, you look really beautiful!"

Later, DH said something like, "Did you wear that dress today for me? I really like it."

It's probably outdated, I'm sure. It must be at least 12 or 15 years old. But every time I put it on I remember all the special occasions it's lived through.

It's still my favorite dress.

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Mother's Day 2006, and a note about blog traffic

Happy Mother's Day to all, especially to my mom. I love you, Mom, and I'm so thankful for your example and influence in my life.

Special warm thoughts also to those who are mothers at heart or in actuality, but--whether through loss, infertility, or other life circumstances--are empty-armed today. My prayers for peace and comfort are with you all on this day.

DH was on the worship team today. Between waking up late, trying to comb out the jam-filled rat's nest of tangles in AJ's hair (it really is time to bump up the baths to every night instead of every few days), and the fact that DH had one of the car seats in his car, we girls didn't make it to church.

But DH and the girls made a lovely dinner for me after a relaxing afternoon at home.

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I don't know what's going on with the kids, but none of the three (and therefore nobody in the house) slept much at all last night. We were up what seemed like 20 or 30 times with one or another of them. Baby E is either cutting a tooth or getting sick, and also having a growth spurt, I think.

Baby E refused to nap at all today, except the time she fell asleep for a few minutes in my arms and the time I managed to get her asleep in the crib for 5 minutes before MM went running into her room and woke her up. She fussed and whimpered off and on all day, and panicked if I so much as tried to hand her off to DH. He said that she wanted to make sure she didn't miss a moment of being with Mommy on Mother's Day. How sweet. Yeah.

She did look at me several times and call me "momm", which was of course heart-melting. She's regularly saying mama or mom to refer to me and dada or dad to refer to her daddy. I think I need to firmly inform her that she's not allowed to skip the mama and mommy stages and go straight to calling me mom, though--I'm not sure I can handle her growing up that fast.

She ate so much today that I almost literally couldn't feed her enough food fast enough. She nursed, ate solids, nursed some more, ate baby food, cereal, white rice, melon, more baby food and cereal, drank water, nursed, and repeated the cycle all day long. She hasn't really gained any weight since she started crawling, so apparently she's about to make up for it now.

My older girls were so absolutely sweet today. They were so excited about cooking me dinner to celebrate Mother's Day. They paged through the cookbook and picked out a recipe, then AJ read the instructions while DH helped them make a sweet and sour pineapple chicken stir-fry. It was delicious. I wish the batteries in the camera were working so I could have a photo of the absolute pride and delight on their faces. They were glowing.

We played a Raggedy Ann game similar to CandyLand after dinner, and I noticed how much better they've gotten at understanding the rules and keeping their attention on the game lately. We really had a good time.

Now all three kids are asleep and DH and I hope to follow suit shortly. Hopefully they'll all actually stay asleep tonight.

OH, BTW--I edited the potty training post to take out some keywords that were bringing some very unsettling search terms to my blog. Well, actually, what was really unsettling is that people searching for those particular search terms actually clicked through and lingered on a post about potty training children. Ugh, ugh. Makes me want to take every photo of my kids off the blog immediately.

Speaking of photos, my self-imposed and rather arbitrary limit was that I'd stop posting recognizable face pictures of Baby E (as I avoid doing with the older kids) on the blog when she started walking. That may be happening soon, at the rate she's going. Or it may happen sooner, depending on what happens with visitors after my changing the keywords in that post; we'll see.

I was reconsidering that whole not-posting-recognizable-photos thing, but the number of people finding my blog using adult-oriented terms in the last few days has reinforced my decision.

Sometimes I'm not sure if this tracking software is a blessing or a curse.

Sidebar changes

I just wanted to note that I now have a "recent comments" section over on the right there, in the sidebar. At the moment it's located just under my profile, beneath the Blogger iPower button.

My husband wrote a script so that it updates automatically every 20 minutes or so with the most recent comments on active discussions. That makes it easy to see what's being discussed by whom in the comment threads.

Also, you may have noticed a new category in my blogroll for "blogs I contribute to." Embracing the Risk is a new multi-author discussion blog that I'm participating in. We have a number of different personalities and philosophies over there, so it should make for some good discussions.

Potty Training 101

Ask Moxie (a lovely blog recommended to me by Liz) has a question up today about potty training a reluctant toddler.

Moxie asks, "Did anyone do anything with an over-3 potty-trainer that got past refusal?"

I started writing a comment in the replies there, but it became so long I decided I'd better just turn it into a post on my own blog. Please feel free to add your ideas and experiences in the comments, or point out anything I missed.

When my kids were toddlers I potty trained two girls and a boy, almost all at the same time. (I took care of the boy--who was right between my older girls in age--while his mom worked.) Seeing other kids using the potty and learning at the same time was really motivating for all three kids.

One of my girls was particularly reluctant to sit on the potty after the novelty wore off, and we had to be careful to avoid a battle of the wills with her. The boy did great learning how to pee in the potty (once his mom and I figured out how to have him sit so it actually went down) but took a lot longer with pooping.

Here are a few things we did that were successful:


• If you can, set aside several days or a week of time to be home together where you can concentrate on potty training. Be prepared to clean up LOTS of accidents. If you can't stay home, use the time when you are at home to potty train and try to get any other care providers on board with the process.



• Don't get upset about accidents--they are to be expected! Have lots of changes of clothing, towels and cleaning supplies on hand. You may want to put towels or changing pads on your furniture.



• Have the child help clean up accidents, putting their own wet clothes in the hamper, wiping up spills, and helping to put poops and soiled toilet tissue into the toilet where they belong. Even if they poop in their underwear or diaper, let them help you dump the poop into the potty so they understand that the potty is where poop goes.



• Give the child lots of fluids while you're trying to have him get the idea of using the potty, to provide lots of practice.



• Find out what motivates him. For one of my kids it was M & Ms, for another marshmallows, for another it was stickers. Some parents use applause or doing a special dance & song as a reward. New underwear that he doesn't want to get wet is a good idea, too.



• Explain that pee and poop go in the potty chair. Put it in a central place that's easy to get to, and you can even practice running to the potty from different places in the house. A doll or stuffed animal can demonstrate using the potty.



• Books and videos about going potty are good.
  
  It's Potty Time is an extremely annoying video for adults and very cheesy, but my kids loved it and were motivated by it. Warning! The songs are very catchy. You'll find yourself singing songs like "She's a super-duper pooper / She can potty with the best"--possibly in public. One thing to note, though, is that it does show improper wiping techniques for girls (a little girl wiping her teddy bear's bottom over and over with the same piece of toilet paper--a great recipe for a UTI). So I might recommend a different video, or some extra time on wiping technique if you use that one. (My readers have some excellent recommendations in the comments below.)



• Put the potty chair in front of the TV and let him watch a video while sitting on the potty. You can also read books while sitting on the potty. If he sits there for a while, he's almost certain to pee at some point, at which time you can make a big deal celebrating it.



• Use pants-free time. This was the single most effective thing I did with my kids. Let them run around in just a shirt or dress with nothing on the bottom half. The fewer things in the way, the easier it is for them to get to the potty. Watch the child closely and if you see him start to pee or poop, get him onto the potty as fast as you can.



• Get the child to the potty quickly when they start going. Even if they've already finished having an accident, have them sit there for a moment to see if they can finish in the potty. If you can get them onto the potty halfway through the poop or pee, that's good. Getting them there before they start going will come later. Try to make running to the potty positive and exciting rather than stressful.
  
  Even if you don't do pants-free time, try to watch closely and get them to the potty if you see that they are going. Getting them there halfway through a poop still helps them get the idea that pooping is supposed to happen on the potty. That's the one thing that finally helped us with the child that had a difficult time with pooping in the potty.



• Treat using the potty in a matter-of-fact way and turn it into part of your routine, as you do with activities like washing hands and brushing teeth. Going potty is just something we always do before/after meals, before going outside, before going to sleep, and first thing after waking up.



• Try using a timer. I set the alarm on my cell phone to go off every 30 minutes at first, then every hour, then every 2 hours. When the timer goes off, it's time to sit on the potty. That way it's the timer and not you making them stop what they're doing to sit on the potty. You'd be amazed at how much that helps to bypass the battle of the wills.



• If you have a child that's reluctant to sit on the potty (one of my girls was), set some kind of tangible, simple limit for how long they need to sit there. Explain that they don't have to actually go potty, they just have to sit there for a minute to practice, or to see if they need to go--however you want to explain it.


I would suggest that it be at least 30 seconds to a minute, maybe as long as 2 minutes. Do something like sing a song, read a book or count to keep track of the time and give a concrete end to it. My daughter and I would hold hands and count slowly to 30 together, and then she could get off the potty and I'd praise her for sitting there. She learned to count to 30 really quickly that way, too. :) Baby E's favorite activity is having me help her count her fingers and toes (and sometimes mine too) while sitting on the potty.


• Get the child to relax. Some things that can help are reading or singing, getting them to laugh (not too much, though, or their muscles can tense up), having them take a deep breath and let it out (sigh), running the water a trickle in the sink or bathtub (the sound of running water can help release the bladder) or having them blow on a pinwheel or bubble wand (blowing can help push things out the back end).



• When you do have them wear pants, try to use cloth if you can--either cloth diapers, cloth training pants with a waterproof layer, or just cloth underwear with something absorbent like sweat pants to help absorb accidents. The child needs to feel the wetness to learn how their body works and what it feels like when they need to use the bathroom and while they're doing so.



• Give lots of praise and encouragement even for just practicing sitting on the potty, and really celebrate when they potty in it! Give small, short-term rewards for EVERY success at first--later you can make them more sporadic and/or longer-term (i.e. a week of no accidents, kept track of with stickers for each accident-free day, to earn a prize).



• Remember that sensing the need to go potty ahead of time and getting themselves there is usually the very last step in potty training. There's a reason preschools and other places that deal with groups of young children schedule regular times to use the toilet.
  
  Kids almost always say no if you ask them if they need to go. No preschooler wants to take time out from playing to sit on the potty! Don't expect the child to take the initiative until well after they are proficient at using the potty every hour or two on your cue.



• The very best thing I did with my third child was starting very early. When she was just a few months old I started paying attention when she wet or pooped in her diaper, and giving a "potty signal". Some people make a "shhh" noise, but for us it was the word "potty".
  
  If you are consistent with this, it creates an association between the word or sound and the act of releasing their bladder or stools. Some people start this immediately after birth (look up "elimination communication" for more information). I tried to always keep her diaper changed so she didn't get used to the feeling of staying wet or poopy (cloth diapers helped with this too).
  
  Once I learned her signals for when she needed to go potty, I could set her on a tiny potty (Baby Bjorn makes one sized for very small children) and give the potty signal, and she would go. She was using the potty fairly frequently by the time she was 10 months old with this method.

Unordered List {UL}

Random bullets of bullets (Um, as opposed to numbered bullets of non-bullets like some other blogger I know. You know the ribbing is all in good humor, PS. :-P )




• Here's Yet Another(!) photo of the kids I took this week (can you tell it was just after breakfast?).


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• DH is back to work today. He's still not up to par, but feeling much better. Nobody else is more than mildly sick at this point, so hopefully that's a good sign.



• Our kids were apparently exposed to chicken pox on Monday. Baby E played especially closely with the child in question. Yes, he was vaccinated for varicella--which may be why he has just a few spots which may or may not be a mild case of chicken pox. No, my kids are not vaccinated for chicken pox.
  
  The incubation period will put them possibly being contagious (IF the kid actually has chicken pox, and IF my kids come down with it) just in time for another big family gathering we had planned at our house the weekend of the 20th. Complete with 9-week-old Baby JL. Yeah.



• AJ and MM are being fantabulous the last couple of days. They back to their normal sweet, helpful, cooperative and generally happy selves after a few overtired and grouchy days.
  
  They're also entertaining themselves and each other extremely well for long periods of time, which is why you're seeing an upward trend in blog post quantity, if not quality.



• Baby E is also getting better at entertaining herself and a little less high-maintenance as she gets used to her newest stages of development. Ditto last line above.



• Baby E's first (and only) waking of the night was at 5:30 a.m. last night. Yay! Especially since she'd gotten into a being awake most of the night trend again after we let her sleep in our bed while Baby JL slept in the crib last weekend. (Bad Idea.)



• The two older kids are getting really good at cooking, crafts and chores. They're still doing their morning and evening chore charts and are about to win their first big prizes (50 stickers).
  
  MM wants a Disney Princess set of dishes to use for meals and AJ wants baseball stuff (maybe we'll start with a wiffle ball set?). They're also really enjoying the sandbox and their tricycles in this lovely weather.



• This morning Baby E was sitting on the floor patting my feet and saying "Dut! Dut!" over and over. Then she leaned down and bit my big toe. I don't know what it is with this kid and feet in the mouth, but I wasn't quite able to keep from laughing. I sure wouldn't want my foot in my mouth.



• I really miss my Sis J and I'm a bit jealous that my dad got to go visit her and meet her friend at university this week.

Corny Jokes, Preschool Style

DH is finally on the mend, and he sat down with the kids tonight and they all watched Zoom together while I cooked dinner. As I commented to DH, there's something really ironic about a TV show that encourages kids to turn off the TV: "If you like what you see / Turn off your TV / and do it!"

Apparently their favorite part of the show was the corny jokes interspersed between scenes. They spent the entire dinner hour making up their own jokes, accompanied by peals of hilarity.

[Can you guess what we had for dinner?]

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What do you call an elephant in a bathtub?

A wet trunk. (Now that I'm writing it down after the fact, I think they may have actually said "a swimming trunk", but I'm not sure--if so, I think they heard that one on Zoom.)


What do you call a chicken in a bathtub?

A wet hen.


What do you call a hen in a bathtub?

A wet chicken.


What do you call a hamster in the bathtub?

A hamster pool.


What do you call a chicken that's all grown up and still in an egg?

A grown-up chick that's really big . . . with its wings and feathers sticking out, but it's still in the egg.


What do you call a rooster that clucks and lays eggs?

A hen rooster.


What do you call a chicken that's killed?

Food.


What do you call a tree with blue leaves?

A blue-leaf tree.


What do you call a little girl who says please and thank you?

Fantastic!

{I certainly agree with that last one!}

Wordless Wednesday: How to keep 3 kids occupied for 30 minutes

Links to other Wordless Wednesday posts (please leave a comment if you use the autolinky):

Health Department Review

Well, DH is still quite sick, and both of the older girls woke up coughing and crying several times in the night, along with Baby E's wakings. I definitely feel something coming on, though I'm not too sick at this point. The girls seem to feel better now that the sun is up, but everyone is definitely feeling under the weather.

This morning AJ said, "I'm going to eat my water today. Not drink it; eat it. I'm gonna get a spoon and eat my water with it. And I'll be very careful not to spill. And if I do spill, I'll make sure to clean it up."

MM: "Me too! I'll be vewy caweful. And I'll cwean it up."

Our weekend, and Baby Signs

DH has been home sick the last couple of days. I've rarely seen him so wiped out from a respiratory illness--all day yesterday he barely dragged himself out of the bed to use the bathroom even. I made homemade chicken soup for him and have tried to encourage him to rest and drink fluids as much as possible. The rest of us are coming down with something too, but so far it doesn't seem to be as severe. I really hope none of our weekend guests catch an illness from us.

We had a marvelous time with a bunch of DH's family this weekend, staying up until the wee hours playing Balderdash and Settlers of Catan. Several of DH's nephews and nieces and one of his brothers were at our house at various times, and we got to see the newest baby in the family.

Baby E really loves babies. Here's a picture of her with her first cousin once removed (our nephew and niece's baby JL), and then a picture of her a month or two ago with the son of some other dear friends, Baby KT. (No, I'm not actually holding Baby J by the neck as it appears in this photo--I've got him in a football hold, which he loved.)





MM was playing ball with Baby E today, and trying to get her to say "ball". Finally, E started saying, "Dahl! Dahl!" and MM was so thrilled. "Did you hear that, Mommy? Did you hear Baby E say ball? She said ball!"

The girls also taught Baby E the hand sign for "all done" at lunch today. I've been using it with her for quite some time, but it wasn't until her sisters started doing it that it clicked for her. She was so proud of herself, and the older girls were of course delighted.

Now if I can just teach her to use the sign for "milk" instead of her self-invented sign when she wants to nurse. The way she's communicating it now gets the message across, but leaves something to be desired. She snuggles up to me and then--chomp!--bites my arm. Hard. That's her sign for milk.

Warning . . . attack baby on the loose!

What baby?

Baby E was waking up from her nap. I went to pick her up, saying, "Hi, Baby!" to her.

E's head whirled around to look behind her, then around the room. Then she turned to me with a confused, quizzical expression on her face.

She was looking for the baby.

Her expression said, "Mama, who are you talking to?? There's no baby here!"

Congrats to CCW

Crazy Cat Woman and the rest of the CCW family have welcomed their new baby boy, known for blogging purposes as Nonami, into the world. He was born Wednesday, May 3rd at 5:15 p.m.--19" 5lb, 9.6oz

A big congrats and many hugs to you all! He's beautiful.

Monday Memories: Baby E's Birth Story

Did I ever tell you about BABY E'S BIRTH STORY?

I wrote out AJ's and MM's birth stories while waiting for Baby E to be born, but I don't think I've ever shared the detailed story of Baby E's birth on my blog. Since she' now 9 months old, I'm thinking I should write it down before I forget too many more details.

So, Baby EA's birth story.



Here's a post giving a bit of information about the pregnancy itself and the surrounding circumstances.

I started having a lot of contractions 5 weeks before Baby E was due. Both of my other babies had been a week or two early, so we thought it was likely Baby E would be early too.

Since we were worried about going into labor 5 weeks early, I spent the first couple of weeks of contractions sitting down and taking it easy, which made them stay down to just a mildly annoying level at 1 to 4 contractions per hour. We went into the hospital several times to get checked, and I even went out and bought some preemie sized clothes because we were sure this baby was going to come early.

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Once we got past 37 weeks, I kept thinking and hoping I was going into labor. The contractions would be 10 minutes or 5 minutes--sometimes even 3 minutes--apart for several hours, and then quit. Some of them were hard enough that they made me want to double over or would wake me from a sound sleep.

After 6 weeks of this, I was becoming exhausted and was more than ready to have the baby. Baby E was about a week overdue by that point. We had been to the labor and delivery room thinking we were in labor several times, only to be sent home with no progress.

My midwife had been telling me for weeks that this baby was going to come any day and that when it happened it was going to be fast and easy.

My last baby was born 35 minutes after we got to the hospital and 12 minutes after the midwife arrived, so we were expecting something similar with this one. Especially since those 6 weeks of contractions and a couple of weeks of being 80% effaced and dilated to 3 made it seem my body was doing a lot of the work ahead of time.

The first time we went to L & D after several hours of contractions 3 minutes apart and fairly intense, the midwife was standing at the hospital door ready to catch the baby as I walked in, thinking labor would be going really fast. But nothing happened--just lots of ineffective contractions with no dilation and very little effacement.

All this early labor was really wearing me out, and DH had to be gone on business for a couple of weeks in 2 weeks, so we were really hoping Baby E would be born soon.

On Tuesday, August 2nd, I had a midwife appointment and had my membranes stripped, then we went home and tried several other home remedies to get labor going. Something must have worked, because in the early evening the contractions significantly intensified and changed in nature.

We got to the hospital Tuesday night with regular but not too painful contractions every 2-3 minutes, and the midwife said I'd made obvious progress since my appointment that afternoon. We walked around for a while (stopping for me to squat and breathe through the contractions), then checked into our room and DH rested while I walked around the room, rocked in the rocking chair, talked to God, and sat on the birthing ball, singing to myself and the baby between contractions.

All was so peaceful that I tried to take a nap, but even though the contractions were only moderately painful, I was too excited to rest. I couldn't wait to have my baby, and I was very pleased that the labor was going along so well.

After making good progress with very little pain in the first few hours, MW assured me that if she broke my water I'd be all done having my baby within an hour or two.

Of course, this is the same midwife that told me I was miscarrying this baby and had been telling me for weeks that I'd be in labor any day now, so I should have been a bit suspecting of her track record by this point. :)

At 2 a.m. my water broke on its own while the MW was literally holding the hook at the ready waiting to break it with the next contraction. This was the first time my water had broken before a baby was born (my other two were already coming out before it broke), so it was a new experience for me.

It all seemed rather fun and exciting, and I was relaxed and confident. Even though the contractions were intense enough that I couldn't walk or talk through them, I was managing them well and was expecting this labor to be an even better experience than the last one. I remember thinking, "Wow, my body just knows how to do this really well."

I was dilated to 5 at that point. The breaking of the water immediately intensified the contractions, and within a short time I was wanting to push, and being encouraged to go ahead and do it as gently as possible if I felt I must. We expected that would hurry things along and pop out the baby quickly.

By then I was no longer smiling or talking even between contractions. Everything was becoming a blur as I just tried to get through each contraction. It was intense and difficult, but I was working with my body well, asking for what I needed and trying different ways of managing the contractions as they intensified. I spent quite a bit of time in and out of the jacuzzi and on the toilet and birthing ball.

By 6 a.m. I'd been pushing with growing pain and intensity for 4 hours. The baby was putting a lot of pressure on my tailbone (which I broke as a teen and again during the birth of my first child), and that hurt. Every time I'd complain about it, the MW would tell me that was good (!!!) because it meant the baby was descending. I didn't want to be told it was good, I wanted sympathy! It hurt! Grrr, people! I was worried something was wrong, though, so I guess the midwife's assurances were probably helpful.

The MW checked at 6 a.m. to see if I was about ready to deliver. Labor had gotten so intense that we all thought the baby would be crowning at any moment. The midwife checked me, getting ready to catch the baby.

I was, ta-da! still dilated to 5. No progress whatsoever.

I think I burst into tears at that point--the first of many times during the process. The MW said that my contractions were intense, but weren't lasting long enough to be effective. I was in the transition stage of labor, but not progressing. After quite some time of this, she felt that they needed to give me pitocin to help the contractions get the baby out.

I pushed for a while longer, hoping to see progress, but still there was none. So finally I agreed to the pitocin.

At 7:30 they started me on pitocin. MW assured me it wouldn't make the contractions more painful or intense, just longer.

Who did she think she was kidding??? The contractions got a lot more intense and hurt a lot more than I thought was possible, with fewer and fewer breaks between them.

I kept saying, "Aren't these contractions hard enough yet????" and they just kept pumping more pitocin into me. They gave me some kind of IV painkiller (I think a narcotic) at some point, that was supposed to last for an hour, but it accomplished diddleysquat.

After a couple of hours of that, I think I was dilated to 6. Still not progressing well. So they kept upping the pitocin.

By that time I was ready to quit and go home. I just knew I couldn't do this. I didn't want to have a baby any more and I informed DH that if he wanted any more children we were definitely adopting.

I told the midwife that I wanted to make it all stop, and sleep for a few hours before trying to have the baby. I begged them to stop the pitocin and they said they couldn't. But of course there was no way to make labor stop. The contractions kept coming and I kept pushing. Of course, even though I said and felt that I wanted to give up, I didn't really mean it. I kept working to get that baby out.

The baby's heartbeat started taking longer to recover to normal speed after contractions. I was afraid we were going to end up with a C-section, and I was scared. I was really worried about the baby--that she would be hurt in delivery or that I wasn't going to be able to get her out of my body.

Something was really wrong, and nobody knew what it was--just that the baby wasn't descending and we were making very little progress. Something was wrong with the angle of the baby, the midwife thought. Knowing that something wasn't right, but not knowing what it was or how to fix it, was frightening.

I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering and had lost all muscle strength by that point. I was really too tired to push and I couldn't even lift myself up on my arms and legs to change position. My arms and legs just wouldn't hold me. DH, a nurse and a midwife had to bodily pick me up and move me every time they needed me to change position. That resulted in the heparin lock catheter getting bumped and pulled on a lot, which really hurt. It made a bruise there that lasted for weeks.

I had made it through a very long and difficult labor with my first baby and no drugs with either baby, but this was a whole different ballgame. All those hours of pushing were taking a toll.

At the suggestion of the midwife and after some persuasion from DH, I opted for an epidural. That was scary for me--something I'd thought I'd never, ever do because I have a mild spinal defect and a history of back problems, so I was worried that the nerves might not be in predictable places in my spine. Plus, I really just wanted to have a natural labor with no interventions, like I had with my first two babies (one very long/difficult and one much easier). But the anesthesiologist did a great job.

Actually, there were two anesthesiologists I think.

It's all a bit blurry, but I think there were a lot of people in the room at that point--two midwives (they were changing shifts), at least three nurses, two anesthesiologists, DH and I think one or two other people floating around. I really didn't care much by then who was watching me groan and cry.

The second midwife was asking DH and the nurses if the intensity of labor was something new. She thought surely it must have changed recently since it seemed I was in transition and ready to push the baby out any moment. They had to tell her that no, this had been going on like that for the past several hours. Ugh.

After another 30 minutes or so, the epidural finally started to take effect. Oh, the blessed relief! It didn't make the pain go away (I had thought it would), but it made the contractions so much more bearable and gave me a rest from the urge to push. I was ready to grant some kind of award to whoever invented epidurals and the technician who inserted mine. Just being able to rest without that overwhelming urge to push was heavenly.

While the epidural was working relatively well, DH got on his laptop to check work e-mail, etc, so I had him post an update on my blog. He also e-mailed the church and asked them to put us on their prayer chain, since the labor was not progressing well. It helped a lot to know that people were praying for us.

DH went out to the car to get something. While he was gone my dad called our room to see how we were, sure we must have had the baby by then. By that point labor was getting so intense that even with the epidural the contractions were getting difficult to manage again. I answered the phone and blubbered to my dad that we were STILL in labor, then had to hang up when the next contraction hit.

At 9:30, two hours after getting the epidural, I started pushing again in earnest. Hard, hard holding-breath pushing, trying to fit 3 or 4 big pushes into each contraction with 30-second breaks to breathe. I was so exhausted by that time I was having a hard time mustering the strength to push at all.

I kept asking the midwife if we were making any progress at all, and she kept assuring me that we were--but to push harder. I was so scared and exhausted by then that I didn't think the baby was ever going to come out, but I kept trying. I thought that no wonder sometimes people need C-sections or even die in childbirth. I prayed a lot, begging God to help me, to get the baby out, to let her be okay. I knew others were praying too, and that helped.

I'd hold my breath and push as hard as I could, and the baby would move down maybe 1/16th of an inch with every 4 brain-exploding pushes. DH and the midwife and nurses worked tirelessly to help me, trying different angles, trying to get me up onto my feet to help gravity bring the baby down, holding me while I struggled. My legs wouldn't hold me, so DH and the midwife together held me up at an angle for a while to try to get Baby E to come down. All I could do was push, and push some more.

The pressure was so intense, as well as the pain from the contractions. Then the midwife did something that allowed some of the meconium behind the baby to escape, and that helped a lot. I remember telling her it felt so good to relieve some of the pressure.

At some point the phone started ringing again, and I yelled out, "Nobody's home!" and then went into another contraction. Nobody answered the phone and eventually it stopped ringing.

They all kept telling me that I was doing a good job and encouraging me to keep pushing, and to push harder and longer, and not to give up. I didn't think I could keep going, but somehow I did. One minute at a time, for about a hundred minutes.

It took well over an hour and a half more of extremely hard pushing before the baby came out--with her left fist next to her right cheek, so her arm came out with her head. That's what had made the labor so difficult--her arm and fist across her neck and next to the opposite side of her head made the angle of her head all wrong.

She looked so strange coming out. DH and I thought she had a broken arm or some kind of wierd deformity. But then the midwife reached down and pulled her arm out, so her head and one shoulder were out, and her arm was sticking straight up over her head. She looked like a baby then. We could immediately see her huge, chubby cheeks and her open, alert eyes. The midwife said, laughing, "Look at those cheeks! That must have been what was holding her up."

With the next push, the midwife helped pull Baby E out and laid her on my chest.

I burst into tears. It was the most intense rush of emotion I've ever experienced. The pain, fatigue and fear had been so intense. I was so glad it was over, that I had my baby, and that she was okay. I kept asking if she was all right, and they said she was.

"My baby. My baby. She's beautiful. Oh, I love her. My baby. She's here. Give her to me. I want her. I want her now! Oh, my baby. Thank you, God. Thank you. Hi, Baby girl. I love you."

Baby E was born at 12:20 p.m. on Wednesday, August 3, 2006, after 6 weeks of early labor, about 24 hours after the active labor finally started progressing, and 10 1/2 hours after I went into transition and started pushing.

She was so big and chubby, and so healthy-looking. She'd pooped before she was born, but after the water broke. So there was no meconium in her lungs--it was all trapped behind her. The midwife kept exclaiming about how big she was and how chubby her cheeks were, and she and DH were hefting her and guessing how much she weighed as they handed her to me. She laid on my belly, with a towel draped over her, and pooped all over both of us.

I was still shaking violently for the next hour or so, and I could barely move for a long time, but all I wanted to do was hold my baby. I was so glad it was over. I couldn't get over how good it felt to have her in my arms. She was so much bigger and chubbier than my first two babies had been (they were about 2 lbs. lighter) and she looked and felt so much different to hold. It seemed strange to me at first, but she was delicious to hold.

Finally I let them take her and weigh her, wipe her off a bit and put a diaper on her. After pooping twice, she was 8 lbs 13 ounces. I'm sure she was 9 lbs. before that, LOL. She gained weight even before we left the hospital (as all my babies have), and by her 4-day-old appointment she was 9 lbs. 1 oz.



We held her and took pictures, and rested a while before family and friends started coming to see her. Baby E was so amazingly calm and alert, making eye contact and giving us little half-smiles right after she was born. Her sisters loved her and were so excited to see us both when they got to visit.

Amazingly enough, neither Baby E nor I were injured. I didn't need stitches, and she didn't have a broken shoulder or collarbone (likely with her birth position) or even a misshapen head. It did take me a full 24 hours before I could sit up or walk without help, and recovering from the epidural and the sheer exhaustion was a bit difficult. All in all, though, it was a pretty easy recovery--especially since this time around I knew to rest a lot and not overexert myself for the first few weeks.

The midwives told me that I did have an unusually long, hard labor. It was definitely the hardest thing I've ever done.

We narrowly escaped needing a C-section. In fact, the MW said if I'd had a regular doctor or any care provider less averse to intervention, I would have certainly ended up with a C-section. I was disappointed that we ended up needing pitocin and an epidural, but I'd rather have that than a C-section. Not that a C-section would be the end of the world either. I was glad to avoid one, but any birth experience that ends up with a healthy baby and mommy is a good thing.

Baby E's name means "consecrated to God". We're so thankful for her. I really believe that God protected us both from injury during her birth, because one or both of us "should" have had more complications than we did given the circumstances.

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More pics from today

AJ making her bed:




MM and Morning taking a break from helping me get ready for weekend guests arriving tonight:




Our solution to Baby E's ear-digging problem (a gift from Elementary Schoolteacher yesterday):




Baby E and Mommy:

A Bowl of Applesauce

Baby E learned a new skill today.



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Cloth Diapering 101, Warp Speed Version

Well, I had my presentation at MOMS group today. I worked together with another cloth-diapering mom, and we attempted to briefly touch on types of diapers, laundering, diapering accessories, making your own diapers, alternative feminine products, and babywearing. The operative word here is attempted. We had at least an hour or two worth of material and less than ten minutes to cover it.

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We'd requested to go last, since as of a week ago only 3 people were signed up to share, so we thought there would probably be lots of time left at the end for questions. But a lot of people signed up at the last minute or brought things to share without signing up in advance, and many of them took quite a while, so we ended up getting probably the shortest segment instead of the longest by going last. I should have let them put us near the beginning as they had originally planned. *Insert head thunking here.*

I felt rushed, disjointed and disorganized. Wait a minute, I didn't just feel that way--I was. We had a couple of very confused questions like, "Wait a minute--what do you mean by wet pail and dry pail?" because I was trying to pick out the most important things from my notes rather than going through them systematically.

Having my friend up there with me did help a lot. And I think we accomplished what we set out to do, which was raise awareness of the fact that people do still use cloth, communicate that it is fun and easy, and give a taste of the myriad options available.

The funniest thing was that our biggest "wow" reaction from the audience wasn't in regards to the cute fitted diapers, the pocket diapers, the cloud-soft velour and sherpa diaper fabrics, the convenience of all-in-one diapers that go on and off just like a disposable, or the breathable yet waterproof wool covers.

It was the snappi. As we demonstrated how to use the grips and elasticity of the T-shaped fastener to anchor a prefold, the room filled with oohs and aahs. No pins! No pokes! So fast and easy. Wow!



I did have one person tell me that she had just taken for granted that she would always use disposable diapers--that cloth wasn't even on her radar. But after seeing how easy cloth could be, she was seriously considering using cloth for her baby.

I hope it was somewhat interesting, anyway--even for those whose only benefit was being aware that there are people who still use cloth these days, and we're not that weird. :)

Since I didn't have a chance to go over all the information thoroughly, I'm hoping to do a series of posts on my blog about some of the things I'd hoped to cover. For example, I'd like to put together an illustrated tutorial showing how to trace a disposable diaper and modify the shape to make a pattern for sewing a cloth diaper. I took photos this week as I sewed a diaper from an old turtleneck and would like to show that, too, as well as a basic Cloth Diapering 101 informational post. Of course, those topics go right in queue with the other gazillion things I have on my list of "things to blog about ASAP."

I'd stayed up till 4 a.m. last night trying to finish getting ready for the presentation and preparing to take food to MOMS group, and then woke once or twice with Baby E before getting up at 7, so I was pretty tired (which probably also had a lot to do with my deficits in attention and organization this morning).

But the 15-year-old teenager Mother Hen came home with me after the meeting to help me with housework. We worked for about 4 hours feeding the kids lunch and then cleaning the most-used sections of the downstairs (kitchen, family room, entry, bathroom). I took her home and then got back not long before Elementary Schoolteacher arrived for dinner.

Tomorrow afternoon I'm getting together with Morning, who just got back from several weeks in Mexico (I missed her!). Then in the evening DH's nephew and his wife are coming over with their new baby to stay with us for the weekend.

Now I'm going to bed before I fall asleep in my chair. Good night!

9 months old

Baby E is 9 months old today. Wow. When did that happen?

Her favorite toy at the moment is a plastic hammer. She chews on it and uses it to bang on things, of course.



Today AJ and MM were cuddling on the couch reading books.



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Baby E, of course, wanted to get in on the action.



She actually opens books, turns the pages and looks at the pictures now instead of (or rather in addition to) just chewing on them.



She's progressed to trying to stand up hands-free, but she always manages to fall down and conk her head on something or other. Other new skills include pulling things off any and all flat surfaces, climbing just about anything, putting objects into and pulling them out of containers, clapping her feet (not so new, but still adorable), laying her head on a pillow to pretend to sleep (although the photo below is what she looks like if we have the temerity to actually try to put her down for a nap!), getting into screaming fights with her sisters over toys, hugging baby dolls, squirming and throwing herself around to make herself almost impossible to restrain during diaper changes and any time she's being held, "singing" along with music, pretending to feed herself with a spoon, and throwing colossal violent tantrums.



In other words, she's a happy, healthy and very normal 9-month-old.

Happy 9-month birthday, Baby E. We love you.