Magically Mama

Because the Good Hair Days Ought to Be Documented

2011-12-14T00:14:00.001-08:00

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Another Mindy Moment--Dedicated to my Anchors

2011-12-05T11:14:00.000-08:00

I feel so odd lately. I don't feel like I quite fit anywhere. There are a few people (Jeffrey more than anyone, but also my family, my parents, my siblings, other friends who hopefully know who they are) who are so stabilizing and anchoring for me. When I feel so strange, so misplaced, I'm terribly grateful for those who love me just as I am.

http://www.mindygledhill.com/lyrics/anchor.html

Halloween--Another Phonetography Post

2011-11-07T13:10:00.001-08:00

(Kaitybean actually had three costumes this year. This, Princess Luxa from Gregor the Overlander and a banana. All three she threw together with her creative brain and almost no help from me. Sadly, this is the only one I got a picture of.)

And just for a bonus, here's one of the hundreds of Peanut-stole-my-phone shots from my library:

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On a crisp November day

2011-11-02T12:06:00.001-07:00

Life is so insane for me right now. Most days I love it. I love the wildness, the metamorphosis, the mess.

Other days--days like today--I want to curl up in a ball and cry. I want to hide. I stand in my messy kitchen and yell at the ceiling: Why can't I do anything right?

Then there are moments like this:

We visit Scud for lunch and stay to play, stay until noses are cold and hearts are warm and Coco's late for preschool but I don't care because I'm getting a bigger glimpse of my life, connecting with these boys in ways that nourish us all. It is so sweet. I am so loved. I love those around me so deeply.

All those little things I miss amidst the rushing winds of my life settle down from the sky and all is right again. Life is so, so good. I'm so in love with it.

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Surprise!

2011-10-26T16:09:00.001-07:00

I love finding fun photo surprises on my phone.

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Hooray Fall!

2011-10-24T13:09:00.001-07:00

Autumn at grandma's house is magical. Here's the proof:

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Looking Up--The Only Thing That Will Possibly See Me Through the Next Few Weeks

2011-10-10T13:09:00.000-07:00

"Experience has taught me that if we, like President Monson, exercise our faith and look to God for help, we will not be overwhelmed with the burdens of life. We will not feel incapable of doing what we are called to do or need to do. We will be strengthened, and our lives will be filled with peace and joy.³ We will come to realize that most of what we worry about is not of eternal significance—and if it is, the Lord will help us. But we must have the faith to look up and the courage to follow His direction." --Carl B. Cook

From this talk: http://lds.org/general-conference/2011/10/it-is-better-to-look-up?lang=eng&query=overwhelmed

Two Yummy Pasta Recipes

2011-07-28T12:16:00.000-07:00

Because I'm a sucker for pasta and thought you might like these. Both are light (low points in WW speak) and healthy. The bolognese could be made from scratch and I'll be working on that recipe soon, but for now just look for a good quality jarred sauce. It makes it easy and easy is good in my book. Also, the carbonara can be made dairy free if you subsitute rice milk for regular milk and skip the butter and parmesan. It would still be yummy.

Loving Me Some...

2011-07-19T19:23:00.000-07:00

Mindy Gledhill right now. Especially this song:

Such an empowering song. Love it. And I'm needing some empowerment right now.

Just Call Me Delilah

2011-07-06T22:43:00.000-07:00

Only I was the one who cried and felt the loss today when I longed to play with those lovely blond curls. Regret and sadness and yet... He is soooo handsome.

Of Things Lost

2011-07-05T13:29:00.000-07:00

According to my subconscious, my two youngest children died this month.

A few weeks ago, our family was swimming in a strange, stone complex of lifeguardless pools. There were lap pools and wading pools. All had stairs descending to the bottom; all were surrounded by gray, stone walls streaked with lime and rust and calcium deposits. One pool held my particular fancy. It was like a cube of water: twelve feet by twelve feet and twelve feet deep. It reminded me of the hippopotamus pool I used to stare into at Hogle Zoo when I was a kid. I couldn't see it, but like that pool at the zoo, I knew that somewhere behind me was a display of things that had been lost in the pool: false teeth, candy wrappers, sunglasses, purses... I watched my three oldest children swim confidently back and forth across the gaping green-black abyss. Then, Ammon, my youngest child waddled over from the wading pool and leapt fearlessly into the deep water. I was right by him, near the edge, and I jumped in, reached for him. I felt his soft flesh against my fingertips, but could not find a handhold, anything to grip. He slipped beyond my grasp and sunk like a lead ball to the bottom, one more addition to the collection of lost things.

Then, two nights ago, Jack and I played together at the top of a cliff. We were, in turns, at a carnival, a spectacular show, a meeting, a worship service, but always at the edge of a dizzyingly high cliff. Below us were trees and sandstone arches and white-picketed-suburban neighborhoods. At the last, we stood together in front of an audience, swinging back and forth on pine two-by-fours, holding tight to the rough and splintery rope that suspended the boards. People on the cliff above clapped and cheered, the immense scene of homes and arches and trees spread forever below us. We swung and laughed, exhilarated. Then Jack let go of the rope. "Grab the rope! Hold on tight!" I shouted, sure he was about to fall. I reached for him with one hand, caught just the seam of his shirt as he pulled away from me and plummeted to his death. The dream did not have the mercy to end there, but seemed to drag for months as it followed me through my grief. All of my days were dark, everything was inkstained black. In one scene, I had just given a powerful reading of my poetry. Then, as people asked to buy my chapbook I kept lowering the price. $4. $3. $2. It ended with me parting gladly with two copies for a handful of homemade, purple, sparkly play dough. I gave another copy away for a bowl full of noodles.

I'm not sure if every parent feels this way, but for years I've been waiting for that proverbial shoe drop, anticipating always in the corner of my mind the day when one of my precious ones is taken from me. Each year it doesn't happen I heave a sigh of relief and brace myself anew.

So, dreams of disaster aren't uncommon for me.

These dreams, though... They have a different feel—like my spirit, my soul, the universe, His Spirit, is trying to speak with me in the language of things that are lost.

I've felt no great sense of losing my little ones, no catch-your-breath falling feeling in my waking hours, but I have felt a slow, creeping inkling of loss. Inch by inch, these gorgeous boys are getting away from me. They are growing up too fast. I will not be the mother of little boys for much longer—these next few years will probably feel like a fast, fleeting dream.

But is it more than that?

Of course there is the mother-guilt. How can I be going to school when these boys are so little??? But, the path I'm on right now was also dream-wrought, shown to me by soul-whispered and divine guidance. And I've received powerful confirmation, even very recently, that it is the right path for me to be walking now and that I am walking it at the right pace.

That moment I sold my poetry for so much less than I think it's worth said a lot to me, though. There are things that, soul-purpose or not, are not the most important things to me. And am I selling myself short? Exchanging my time and energy for the lesser things, the things that will enrich my life and the lives of those I love the least?

I only have questions right now. No answers. And that's ok, because that questioning, open, humble space is where I learn the best. I know that something in my life needs to change, that it has something to do with my children, my motherhood, my priorities. I'm praying and seeking and trusting that a whisper will come soon and show me the way.

Conversation With Scud

2011-06-07T18:48:00.001-07:00

Transcribed for your enjoyment.

Scene: Driving by a building near our home.

Scud: I hate that Papa Murphy's isn't in that building anymore.

Me: You know they moved just down the block, right? We can still go there.

Scud: I know. I just don't like things changing.

Me: Well, you know what they say, Scud. The only thing constant is change.

Scud: That's not true. I haven't changed my pants for two weeks.

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Sweets to the Sweet

2011-05-11T18:25:00.000-07:00

I made these yummy cake bites a la Bakerella for Mother's Day. They were a lot of work but a lot of fun and the boys enjoyed helping.

Oh, and did I mention that they were yummy? I gave most of them away so I wouldn't eat as many.

I have her fun Cake Pops book (Thanks Mom!)* but I'm pretty sure the basic instructions are on her website.

*You see, my mom is so awesome that even gifts I make for her are a result of something she's done for me.

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Hard Day at the Office

2011-05-09T08:01:00.001-07:00

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Why Little Boys (and spring) Are Awesome: An iPhone Picture Blog

2011-05-05T14:42:00.001-07:00

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Love and Kisses With Coco

2011-04-27T17:42:00.000-07:00

Coco is snuggling on my lap. We've been talking and cuddling and kissing all morning.

"Oh, Coco," I tell him, "Sometimes I love you so much I just want to burst."

He kisses me square on the lips.

"Kissing is love that comes bursting out of your body," he says.

Sigh...

A Little Poetry Tuesday In Honor of Me, Myself and I

2011-04-19T13:02:00.000-07:00

Today is my thirty-third birthday.

I am fourteen-year-old me plus nineteen-year-old me. I am the girl who met Jeffrey at a church dance. I am the the very young girl who, after the wounding of teenage dating years, felt sooo old and chose to marry Jeffrey, the man whose arms felt to her like rest, like coming home. I am six-year-old me plus twenty-seven-year-old me. I am the girl who watched Grandpa Murray collapse in her back yard in shimmering summer and the woman who gave birth to a gorgeous baby boy in the warmth of her bedroom on a frozen new year's eve.

I am every girl and every woman I have ever been in these three decades plus three years and I am whole.

For the first time in a very long time I feel whole, authentic. This has been the work of my thirty-third year. Throughout this year, I have flung the doors and windows wide to welcome every regret, every mistake, every heartache, every misplaced step or hasty word of my life. I have found it in myself to love myself, whole. This has not been a simple forgiveness or an asking for forgiveness. It has been a fierce and fearless, whole-hearted embrace of every element of myself in joy, with an understanding that it is the good with the bad that makes me who I am, that drives me closer to who I need to be within this world and the work that I must do to make the world better.

Six years ago, someone challenged me to learn to be my wild and authentic self. I am only now beginning to understand what that means for me. It feels good.

My goal for my thirty-fourth year is to do more and to do less:

Say yes more. Yes to friendship, love, nature, everything that feeds and fills me. Yes, to new experiences of every kind (even the ones that may hurt).
Love more. Be more present. Connect more deeply and often with the people around me.
Express myself more--my love, my passion, my feelings. Write more. Speak more. Give more.
More honesty, unabashed honesty with myself and others.

Worry less. Worry less about what others think of me. It doesn't matter. Worry less about money or the future. It will all come. All I have right now is right now.
Buy less. Own less. Release what does not bring joy or light into my life. Make room for those things that do.
Including doing less of what is not authentic, what is not important, what is not a part of my value system and my life purpose. Those things I do not feel deeply called to do, I will not do.

Those things that must be done: the laundry, the dishes, the feeding, the endless wiping of pee and poo and boogers and tears and dirt that comes with motherhood--they will be done with more love, more presence, more understanding of WHY they are essential.

When they are the less essential things, they will be done less, thrown by the wayside without guilt or apology because something more important is calling to me.

I heard a marvelous poem yesterday for the very first time. It encompasses my recent feelings, the advice I might give to myself if I were to be honest and authentic right now.

I'll use it to close this post with a happy birthday to me and a joyous day to you.

Advice to Myself

by Louise Erdrich

Leave the dishes.

Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator

and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.

Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.

Throw the cracked bowl out and don't patch the cup.

Don't patch anything. Don't mend. Buy safety pins.

Don't even sew on a button.

Let the wind have its way, then the earth

that invades as dust and then the dead

foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.

Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.

Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzles

or the doll's tiny shoes in pairs, don't worry

who uses whose toothbrush or if anything

matches, at all.

Except one word to another. Or a thought.

Pursue the authentic-decide first

what is authentic,

then go after it with all your heart.

Your heart, that place

you don't even think of cleaning out.

That closet stuffed with savage mementos.

Don't sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth

or worry if we're all eating cereal for dinner

again. Don't answer the telephone, ever,

or weep over anything at all that breaks.

Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons

in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life

and talk to the dead

who drift in through the screened windows, who collect

patiently on the tops of food jars and books.

Recycle the mail, don't read it, don't read anything

except what destroys

the insulation between yourself and your experience

or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters

this ruse you call necessity.

Helen

2011-04-08T15:11:00.000-07:00

I want to write something, anything, about my friend Helen. I can't do it yet. But I want to share with you all how much she meant to me, how illogically orphaned I feel right now.

So, I'm sharing a link to my friend Melody's words.

She meant more than words can say to a lot of us, probably more people than I can imagine. She was one of those people who made every single person in her life feel like her special favorite. I will miss her.

You Are My Sunshine

2011-03-16T15:50:00.000-07:00

I have taken to calling him Sunshine Boy. He's such a delight every morning.

Not Dead

2011-03-09T09:04:00.000-08:00

Just a note to let you all know I am alive.

Very alive, indeed.

In fact, I am living a very rich and full life right now.

I've decided to start saying that instead of whining "I'm so busy!" all the time.

Because, really, how lucky am I to get to do all of the wonderful things I do!

Classes in:

Women's Literature
Spanish
Creative Writing

Five WONDERFUL children:

Orchestra Concerts
Cub Scout Pack Meetings
Pinewood Derby Cars
A Part in Thoroughly Modern Millie (which was marvelous, btw)
Hernia Surgery
Field Trips
An Anti-Bullying Campaign at School (Spearheaded by Scud--I'll need to write more about this soon!)
Track Season Approaching
An Upcoming Trip to Europe for my Kaitybean

Opportunities for Service:

In the Primary Presidency (Which I love like crazy-cakes, in spite of the fact that I dreaded Primary callings for years!)
On the Staff of Touchstones (Literary Journal at UVU)
Interviewing Utah's Poet Laureate tomorrow (for Touchstones)

Really, my life is fabulous.

There are things I miss about my previous existence:

Bellies and Babies
Leisurely Friday Walks with Kerri
Hours Spent Talking to Emma
Long Telephone Calls with Valerie
Sleep
Reading Whatever I Wanted To
Movie Nights With JDub
A Clean(er) House
Sleep

I wouldn't trade right now for anything, though. I'm loving the challenges and the growth of this period.

So, if you catch me using the B word, please remind me: Full, Rich and Wonderful, Heather!

2010 In Review

2010-12-30T11:30:00.000-08:00

Consider this an apology for last year's inexcusably long year-end review of my blog, in which I felt it was somehow a good idea to quote nearly every post of the year. Really, sorry about that.

For this year, I'll just link the titles of the posts I think are worth re-reading or re-seeing (or reading or seeing for the first time if you're new here). And this has been such a busy and undocumented year that there really aren't many. :)

January

Tummy Time

February

Just Me, My Update and $5 In Gas

Babies (and Toddlers) Don't Keep

Messy, Messy Boy

March

Everybody Loves Chuck

I'm Wondering

I Am Runner

Riddle

April

The Snarky Sign in My Body's Office

May

New Iconic Scud Picture

June

A Different Kind of Photography Experience

12 Years

Because I Think Everyone in the World Should Watch This

July

On Mindfully Seeking a Label -- A Post For Mashuga

August

Growing Up -- Conversations With Scud and Mashuga

On Beginnings and Endings -- Peanut Turns One

Let Me Show You a Story of Coco's Front Teeth

September

Kaitybean On Fashion

October

Um... Maybe I should just post one of the papers I wrote for school. I wrote some really good ones.

November

The Collards Were a No Go

December

JDub's Strange Form of Stress Relief

Conversation With Coco

Conversation With Coco

2010-12-28T07:52:00.000-08:00

Me: How did I get so lucky to be your mom?
Coco: Because I choosed you!
Me: You did? You chose me? Why did you choose me?
Coco: Because you're the best mom ever! And you take care of me and you're nice all day!

**melt my heart**

Like when he says "I love you more than chocolate chips!"

Love this little boy! He can be sooooo challenging, but the payoff is so great!

JDub's Strange Form of Stress Relief

2010-12-09T19:03:00.000-08:00

Those of you who know JDub well know three important things about him. For the rest of you, I'll give you the background you need to make sense of this post.

He sells woodworking tools online for a living.
After many years he's gotten super good at detecting scam email orders. (Hint: Grammar is key. If they can't write good Engrish, you are can be certainly they not is legitimatized customers.)
He ~~hates~~ doesn't really like his job.

So, he sent me this email exchange the other day. First the email from the customer (name changed even though it probably wasn't a real name in the first place.):

From: Brock Lee
To: JDub's Business
Subject: URGENT ORDER

Hello Customer Service

My name is Mr Brock Lee, I am with the [Insert Fake and Generic Sounding Business Name Here] and with regards to your Company i will like to make an order based on (EDGE SANDER) in stock for sale? If Yes kindly email me back with the types of Edge sander that you have in stock and the total pick up price of the sizes, so that we can proceed with the order. More over i will like to know if you do accept Credit Cards as a form of payment... And allow pick-up at your location . Looking forward to hear from you soon so that we can proceed with the order...

Kind Regards
Managing Director
Mr Brock Lee,
1234 Bogus Lane Unit 24
Supertown,BS 11111-11,
U.S.A.

JDub's Response:

From: JDub's Business
To: Mr. Brock Lee
Subject: Re: Urgent Order

We would be happy to ship your order of edge sanders but we are overrun with pumpkins right now and are using the edge sanders as fences to keep the raccoons out. We will let you know as soon as the situation changes.

Best fishes,

JDub

Funniest part: He replies like this to scammers all the time.

My Year In Facebook Status

2010-12-09T18:46:00.001-08:00

Click for full size

The Collards Were a No Go

2010-11-10T14:46:00.001-08:00

So, usually I wonder if I'm doing any good in these kids' lives. Or at least I hope I'm not messing them up too badly.

But then a night like tonight happens and I figure that either life at our house is not all bad or I've just been blessed with incredible little people for children or JDub and I really are warping them. Or all three.

So you may have heard of bountifulbaskets.org or some other similar food co-op. We love it. We get loads of fresh produce for only $15 a week and as an added bonus we are exposed to foods we wouldn't normally buy.

The big newbies this week were Fuyu Persimmons (yum!) and Collard Greens.

Well, I decided to make collard greens with black-eyed peas and ham and cornbread.

My valiant family sat down, willing to try a bit of everything.

I'll give you a hint here: It was gross.

But rather than complaining, everyone managed to eat enough to not be hungry and to joke about it.

Some of the thins said regarding dinner tonight:

"Wow, Mom. This food is really... something."

"This is really food!"

"This meal makes me want to write a poem. Ambiguity intended."

"Mom, this food is way better than starving to death!"

"Rusty really likes this meal. She sure is getting a lot of it!"

And after the meal when it's time to brush teeth:

"After that, brushing teeth will be like a treat! It'll get the taste out."

All of this said with a smile and a good attitude.

I love these crazy people I live with.

And for the record, black eyed peas and collard greens will remain off-menu at our house.

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Kaitybean On Fashion

2010-09-25T12:59:00.001-07:00

Scene: Our house this morning as we were getting ready to go to a baptism.

Kaitybean: Wow, Mom. We must have different tastes. I would never wear those tights. Not ever.

Me: Oh yeah? I love them.

Kaitlyn: Well, I might wear them if someone paid me, like, 20 bucks. But I'd never wear them of my own accord.

*Chuckle*

And so it begins...

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Let Me Show You a Story of Coco's Front Teeth

2010-08-23T23:08:00.000-07:00

They came in all cute, like this, poking pearly white through the gums. But they had a problem -- defective enamel.

Thus, the slightly pitted teeth turned into brown and crumbling teeth.


Which led to this -- major dental work under anesthesia.


His dentist armor-plated them and tried to make them look as natural as possible.


Two weeks later he was running and, you guessed it, hit his teeth. Hard. We thought they'd fall out, but I prayed like crazy and they stayed in. But they never looked as good after that. And the dentist said they'd be more prone to infection after trauma like that.

Fast forward about a year. Coco starts having big pustules above his teeth that hurt and drain when they're popped or bumped. (You can thank me now for not posting pictures of that!) We return to the dentist.

Sure enough, all four top front teeth are abscessed. They all have to be removed. Coco looks like this for two months. Except the gaping holes went away after a few days.

The dentist makes Coco a glued-in retainer with four new prosthetic teeth. He looks so handsome.

Two hours later.

Three hours later.

We return to the dentist. He saves the day by fixing and replacing the retainer. AND (bless him) does not charge us for the second visit.

Coco has a super week and a half with his new chompers.

No words.

Here they are. Waiting for repair. For Mommy to decide it's worth it to pay to fix them and try again. For now he's happily sticking his tongue out with his mouth closed and chomping from the side and not eating corn on the cob.

Tonight's Message Brought to You by Uncle Will

2010-08-23T21:54:00.000-07:00

"And summer's lease hath all too short a date."
-- William Shakespeare

Farewell, summer. It's been real.

Scud's Favorite Comic (And Mine)

2010-08-15T08:04:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know Scud, he has a terrific sense of humor. He cracks me up all. the. time.

He carries this comic in his pocket sometimes and it makes both of us laugh every time we see it. It is from the comic strip, F Minus by Tony Carillo. Hope it's ok for me to post it here.

Enjoy!

Source: http://www.fminus.net/

On Beginnings and Endings -- Peanut Turns One

2010-08-10T23:40:00.000-07:00

One year ago, at just about this time, a child was born. It was serene and sacred, a quiet scene, a beautiful and blissful welcoming. (You can read the story here.)

While pregnant with Peanut, I experienced the normal number of garden-variety aches and discomforts. I had at least my fair share of anxiety.

But, in retrospect his pregnancy felt much like a deep breath, his birth a sigh.

When I first looked in his eyes I felt 31 years' urgent ache melt away. Here was my friend, the gentle joyful spirit who had trusted me enough to wait for me to be his mother. Until that moment I had no idea how much I'd missed him.

Now, the newborn boy whose peach fuzz head fit in the palm of my hand is one year old.

His eyes are bright with joy and laughter. His voice tinkles and coos and squeals, playing on his throat and teeth and tongue the music of our language. Soon his words will roll into the world, announcing the thoughts that make him unique in all the universe. As he learns to walk, his feet march out the rhythm of his fierce desire for independence. He longs to step into the wide world and do what he came here to do.

Never have I mourned the passing of a baby year as I am grieving the end of this child's first year.

Oh, how I will miss him!

Tangled up in his growing is the passage of my mother-self. I don't yet feel the settling peace and certainty that we are done having children. I also don't feel the yearning for a missing child, the surety that there is at least one more spirit waiting to join us. And so I know that this may be the end, that I may never again know the intimacy of being the mother of a baby.

Tonight I kissed his forehead as I put him to bed, knowing that the baby I nursed to sleep tonight will wake up tomorrow as a one year old.

The pain and joy and power of it all was far too much to keep to myself, so I had to pour it out here.

My baby, likely my very last sweet baby, is ONE YEAR OLD.

{Awed pause here.}

He was born on a wisp of heaven and his birth restored my faith in birth.

Now, each day he restores my faith.

He teaches and teaches and teaches me hope. Life is good -- all of it -- the beginnings and the endings and the just-keeping-ons.

With each joyful, toddling step he is reminding me. Life is meant to be lived with face turned forward, arms raised high, heart open to welcome the joy that waits ahead of us, even as it holds safe the treasure of the joys that lay behind.

Growing Up -- Conversations With Scud and Mashuga

2010-08-01T22:06:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, Scud plopped down on the couch, heaved a sigh and said "Mom, there are three reasons I don't want to grow up and three reasons I do."

"Tell me," I encouraged.

Another sigh.

"Well, first when I grow up I'll have to get a job and work all the time. I like being a kid and having my freedom. Second, when I grow up I'll have to, like, budget and be careful with my money and pay bills and stuff. Now I just save enough money for candy or soda and then I just buy it."

"Yep. You won't be able to do that as much anymore."

Solemn nod.

"And the third reason. When you're a grown up, people give you really dumb presents. Like last Christmas, someone gave you a picture frame. A picture frame! There wasn't even a picture in it."

Of course I laughed. I like getting picture frames as presents.

"So, Scott, what are the three reasons you do want to grow up?"

He takes a deep breath and then all at once says, "I wanna go on a mission! I wanna get married! I want to eat escargot!"

What a kid.

So, fast forward a few weeks. It is morning. We are on vacation and sleeping at a hotel. Mashuga crawls into bed with me and curls close, warm and sleepy and delicious.

"Mom, I really don't want to grow up," he says.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I'm really having fun and just like being little and being a little kid. Plus, when I grow up, this world is going to run out of oil."

I stifle a giggle. Who knew that he worried about things like this?

"Yeah and when the world runs out of oil, we won't be able to use cars and stuff and they'll have to start tearing down houses to mine for oil there."

"You think so? I think that if the world runs out of oil we'll just figure out better ways of doing things. We'll have to find better ways to use electricity for cars and harness the power of the sun and the wind."

He thinks about this for a minute.

"Actually, Mom, I think I do want to grow up. Cuz I'm going to be a scientist and I need to grow up so I can invent that kind of stuff so when we do run out of oil it will be ok because I'll make a better way to make electricity and cars and stuff."

Yes, Mashuga. As much as I hate to see it happen, you'd better grow up. Whether you're going to be a scientist or not, the world needs you.

10:30--The Last Two Weeks--An iPhone Picture Blog

2010-07-22T10:59:00.000-07:00

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Because This Made Me Laugh

2010-07-19T16:07:00.001-07:00

On Mindfully Seeking a Label -- A Post For Mashuga

2010-07-15T00:33:00.000-07:00

Dearest Mashuga,

Consider this a dispatch from the mother of your sparkling childhood self to the solid man I'm certain you'll become.

You came to me on a wave of bright blue winter afternoon, your right hand tucked beside your head. Your gray-blue eyes were the eyes of ancient knowing.

I felt nearer to God when you lived inside me than almost any other time and my many conversations with Him helped me understand that you were something special.

His promise that you would need a strong body to fulfill your mission here on earth has seen me faithfully through the physical challenges I've helped you face.

His assurance of the strength of your spirit is what sees me through right now.

Thirty years from now we will both heave a sigh of relief. I know that thirty years from now, I will marvel and be amazed by you.

Until then, there will be another certainty tickling at my heart. Getting there will not be easy -- for either one of us.

In March your father and I walked with you into Dr. Mumford's office, yellow evaluation papers jittering in my hands. I knew the diagnosis. I'd been reading about it for months.

Google probably logged my IP address, ready to present a thousand pages about ADHD the moment I opened a browser. I gutted the library's shelves, devouring any information that could help me with you. I read the typical how-to-manage-and-medicate books. I read the medication-is-evil books. I read the diet-is-the-answer books.

I read The Edison Gene and The Indigo Children.

My heart sang out the gift of you, my hunter child, my warrior son draped in indigo.

It was healing to know that others could see a child like you and value your (HUGE) existence in this world.

I joked that probably every member of our family could be diagnosed with some level or form of ADHD. In ways it was a badge of pride.

I didn't notice the slow creeping, the way the joking and the singing and the pride no longer made up for the tears and the yelling and the sideways glances. It took me far too long to realize how your heart was hurting, how my heart was hurting.

I love you fiercely my darling boy, but there were days I had to dig into the dark of my body to find the place where I liked you.

So we walked back out of Dr. Mumford's office with a prescription for Adderall XR, a business card for a behavioral therapist and (ick) a label.

The label gave me fuel for negotiations with your teacher.

(For the love of pete and fried chicken, please move him away from the window when he's taking his math test before you decide he's a failure at math!)

The label gave me instant inner vindication.

(This child is tough and there is a section of the DSM-IV that proves it!)

Insert crickets chirping here. Or crappy hold musak. Or your mother hitting herself on the head with a pillow.

All my good intentions are gathered in a pile on my nightstand, swimming in a gravy of guilt. I stare at them through the dark of my sleepless nights and try to close the door on them through the hair-pulling of my days.

Good heavens, I love you child. I offer that up as the excuse for my paralysis. I have been so afraid to do the wrong thing for you that I've kept us both hanging tight to the end of this tug-of-war rope and done nothing else.

The crying has reached a crescendo. Within seconds of any injury -- physical or emotional, real or imagined -- you cry like someone has amputated your arm with no anesthesia.

The stubborn refusal to listen or obey haunts our days. I can't say I blame you. I can see that it is a survival mechanism to protect you from the exasperation and sour words hurled at you far too often. You want so badly to be good. You are genuinely surprised when you get in trouble. You probably get tired of trying.

Your impulsiveness is at heart-racing, police-calling fever pitch. You slipped off to a neighbor's house yesterday without asking first. You don't usually play inside his house, so we didn't even think to knock on their door. For two hours we searched all of your usual play places, scoured our house, fretted and called for you.

Finally, I put in a call to 911. A very kind officer came to our house and commenced a thorough search of our house. (Typical practice before proceeding further. I know. This is not the first time we've had to call police to help us find you.) Five minutes after he arrived, you came skipping up the stairs, a carefree whistle of happiness on your lips, completely clueless as to why your mother was haggard, police were at our home and half the neighborhood was out searching for you.

I think we need a pause button, my dear. A stop gap. A bit of help so we can catch our breath and start over. Find new ways of being.

I'd like to change your diet to help you manage this ADHD superpower of yours. I'd like to be a brilliant mother and structure our days and your life to bring out everything that's best in you, to compel you toward success and joy.

Sadly, though, I just can't keep it together enough to do all of those things.

For right now, I'm going to take a deep breath and do the next best thing.

For your safety and self-esteem, for my sanity, it's time to have a go at the medication, I think.

Then I'm calling the therapist your doctor recommended, because it's obvious that I can't do this on my own.

And it won't be happily-ever-after and honeyed milk and rainbow skies. It won't be easy. I know that. I also know enough to understand that the challenges are the real blessings.

You may not understand that now, but maybe when you read this decades from now you will.

And maybe, when you stare into the endless eyes of your own newborn son, you'll have some idea of how I love you.

Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for being patient while we figure this out.

Love,
Mom

Because I Think Everyone In the World Should Watch This

2010-06-16T07:23:00.000-07:00

Thank you, Nie, for reminding us all who we are.

Guess What I'll Be Doing This Weekend???

2010-06-15T15:34:00.001-07:00

Ragnar time, baby! I've been training for this and I'm ready.

And terrified.

And excited.

We're painting our van and dying our hair red and wearing kilts.

Woohoooooooo!

12 years

2010-06-11T08:39:00.000-07:00

This tiny 4lb 12.8 oz baby...

Turned 12 in May.

Went to the temple for the first time on the Saturday after her birthday. And has gone twice since then.

Just finished her second year of playing the cello.

Is super fun.

Just graduated from sixth grade.

Has an amazingly awesome best friend.

Has spent the last week at YW camp. I'm sure she's having a ball and not the least bit homesick. She's too much like her mother that way.

But oh I've missed her! I went into her room a couple of days ago and just lay on her bed, missing her, trying to draw some of her spirit from that messy, quirky, beautiful space of hers.

I'm so grateful to have this daughter of mine and can't imagine life without her. What a rewarding 12 years it has been.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A Different Kind of Photography Experience

2010-06-09T08:46:00.001-07:00

Quick note: If you read my blog in a reader and it's been a while since you visited, come see the new layout. And by layout, I really mean new header and font colors. Nothing too fancy schmancy.

A couple of months ago, we had a fabulous afternoon. And Gina of Golden June Photography came along and took pictures to document it. I love how the pictures turned out. Even more, I loved the relaxed, happy atmosphere of the shoot. I love that there is light in my children's eyes and that, beyond just taking great pictures, Gina was able to capture our family's personality so brilliantly.

It was a great contrast to previous photography experiences we've had -- the weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth, the feeling of being at the mercy of the photographer while he/she works hard to get our (silly, busy, crazy) family to sit still in order to get the perfect shot. I've never been able to convey to a photographer that I'm less interested in the perfect shot than I am in the perfect picture -- an accurate and happy representation of my family in that moment in time. There was no conveying necessary with Gina. She simply followed our lead and our energy. It was wonderful.

I'm in love with these pictures.

(Click to make it big.)

Visit Gina's blog to see some of her other work. She is a brilliant and talented photographer and I'm grateful that she took the time to practice on us.

New Iconic Scud Picture

2010-05-27T16:40:00.000-07:00

There are always a few pictures taken each year of my children that I label "iconic.". Iconic, as in representative to me of exactly who they are at that moment in time.

Today I cut Scud's hair for the last day of school. He wanted another mohawk. I happily obliged, then snapped this picture.

When I saw it on the screen it immediately captured my heart. This is my Scud. Right now. He's learning to play football and be cool. He still asks his mommy for hugs several times a day. He's soooo handsome at this spot between little boy and big boy. I couldn't love him more.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Poetry Tuesday Returns In Honor Of Mother's Day

2010-05-04T05:02:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't posted any poems for a long time. I'm feeling the need to start again. And why not start for Mother's Day?

These are two poems from Carol Lynn Pearson's book "Beginnings." (You may be getting the feeling that I like Carol Lynn Pearson. Um, I really do. I love the work of many other poets too, but Carol always seems to sing the same song my heart sings.)

The first poem "Investment" is dedicated to my younger sister who will soon be giving birth to her first child. I'm so thrilled for her I could burst.

The second poem "The Unwritten Poem" is dedicated to my mother, who has given so much to her children. She loves to write and has always told me she'd love to write more. I think she should! Until then, she just keeps on encouraging and loving me and everyone else in her family. She has given me so many poems.

Investment

How enviously
I watched
The rose bush
Bear her bud --
Such an easy,
Lovely birth.
And
At that moment
I wished
The sweet myth
Were true --
That I could
Pluck you,
My child,
From some
Green vine.

But now
As you breathe,
Through flesh
That was mine
(Gently in the
Small circle
Of my arms),
I see
The wisdom
Of investment.

The easy gift
Is easy to forget.
But what is bought
With coin of pain --
Is dearly kept.

The Unwritten Poem

Sometimes --
In a sitting down moment
On a day
Of stove-heating the sad-irons
And layering newspaper between
Quilts to keep us warmer --
I heard my mother say,
"I wish I had time
To write a poem."
And then she would start
The potatoes.

When I was twelve
A thing happened that
Broke my heart --
A school thing I've forgotten now.
For hours I cried my humiliation
Into a handkerchief.

Next day my mother
Brought in in from ironing --
That handkerchief --
And gave it to me special.
"Here," she laid it in my lap.
"You've had it in happy times
And in sad.
There'll be more of both.
Keep it, and it will remind you
The better follows the bad."

She went back to ironing,
And my fingers traced
The little flowers of fading blue.

I can remember other poems
She left me, too.

The Snarky Sign in My Body's Office

2010-04-28T18:29:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've seen those slightly snarky and oh-so-true signs in many offices.

They read like this:

Fast
Good
Cheap
Pick two.

Well, if my body had an office, its sign would read like this:

Run 7-12 miles per week.
Make enough milk to breastfeed.
Lose weight.
Pick two.

Right now I'm going with the first two.

With all of this running, I've expected this baby weight to just fall off. No such luck. I'm still holding steady at 160, about 20 pounds above my pre-baby weight. When I've both run and cut calories in an effort to lose weight, my milk supply has diminished and made breastfeeding difficult. And Peanut's too little to be dieting.

So....

I'm not complaining, really, because Hello, Heather! Your body can run 7-12 miles per week! You're successfully breastfeeding your fifth gorgeous child! Nothing to complain about there.

Mostly, I'm just finding it interesting. I've always had difficulty losing weight while breastfeeding, at least for the first year when my babies get most of their nourishment from me. This isn't new. But, the running is new and I thought it might make a difference. Nope.

And can I just say that the running is rocking? 4.31 miles today in 55 minutes.

I just love endorphins.

Right now...

2010-04-08T16:59:00.001-07:00

•I am nursing Peanut and listening to "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by Mendelssohn. Oh, the memories. I played Hermia my freshman year of college.

•The big kids are outside running a koolaid stand while listening to Taylor Swift and Phineas and Ferb.

•Coco just came in for a snack.

•I feel sick, but I can keep the nausea at bay if I hold very, very still.

•Holding very, very still is not the best strategy when I have 5 kids to keep an eye on.

•I am wishing that JDub would get home already.

•And hoping the neighbors don't think I'm too neglectful for staying in my house and laying very, very still while my motley assortment of red-lipped children run a koolaid stand.

•And I'm not so sure how I feel about koolaid/lemonade/Popsicle stands anyway. What are your thoughts on the matter?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Awareness

2010-04-06T11:19:00.000-07:00

I could wax all philosophical about the importance of awareness. But I'm just going to post a video that made me laugh. And think.

iBean Inspired

2010-03-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

This is a video about a very cool little company my BIL works with. He is currently in a contest, so the more times this video is viewed, the better. Plus, it's kind of a cool thing, this planting and nurturing and putting intention into your dreams in a concrete way.

Please watch the video! Pass it on!

Riddle

2010-03-25T16:34:00.001-07:00

Heather has 5 coupons for $1 off lunchables. She finds that they are on sale for $.99 at her local supermarket...

You may think the answer to this question is "The store will pay Heather $.05 to take 5 lunchables off their hands."

That is, indeed, the correct answer to the above story problem. And it's kind of cool.

But the real riddle is this:

"If Heather gets 5 free lunchables from her local supermarket should she actually let her family eat them????"

I've begun couponing recently to try to save money on our family's grocery budget. I'm still getting the hang of it. I've had more frustrating experiences than positive so far, but I have saved a lot of money already and I have faith that, with practice, I can get good at this.

I've encountered a dilemma, though.

On Tuesday night I came home, having purchased $89 worth of food for only $45. It felt good.

Then I had a startling realization. I had just purchased 5 bags of potato chips, 2 jumbo boxes of poptarts, 4 boxes of sugary cereal and 5 lunchables.

We don't eat this kind of stuff. I mean, we're not complete snobs. I love a good potato chip. Every once in a while. I don't need FIVE BAGS of them in my house.

I always kind of thought that the mostly whole food, unproccessed, non-junk diet our family usually eats was the product of a tight food budget.

Well, either that's completely untrue or somewhere along the way I've learned to prefer it.

Imagine my confusion when this light bulb came on.

Add to this that Jeffrey and I just watched "Food, Inc.", I have been listening to a lot of Michael Pollan on NPR, I've begun buying as much of my produce and meats as possible through local food co-ops and have been researching local farms to find a source for grass-fed beef.

Oh. And I'm researching the effect of food additives on ADHD symptoms in adults and children.

So the real riddle lies in how I will reconcile my desire to save money with my desire to keep my family healthy by feeding them food rather than food-like-substance.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I Am Runner

2010-03-20T00:42:00.000-07:00

"Human beings are made up of flesh and blood, and a miracle fiber called courage"
-George Patton

I've begun to do something that terrifies me. I run.

Dare I say it? I'm transforming myself into a runner.

I am a runner.

I don't feel like a runner quite yet. At least not all the time. But I suppose that if writers write and painters paint and builders build and runners run, then I am, indeed, a runner.

I've run about 22 miles since January, 13.4 of those since March 6.

I've come here to somehow mark this place in my journey and acknowledge what a miracle that is for me. I've never considered myself a distance runner. I see JDub, with his wiry body and mental ability to run for long distances, even when it's hard. I know I don't fit that mold.

I am a sprinter by nature. Very dangerous over short distances (or at least I used to be). *grin* I'm a soccer player. I'm happy to run for an hour and a half straight if I'm chasing a soccer ball. But, to just run for an hour and a half. Just to run??? That was never my thing.

And that's so true for me in so many ways. I'm so good at coming out of the starting blocks. I'm good at the short burst of speed, the sprint to the finish.

But real staying power? To stick with something when it gets hard or boring or just to keep my attention focused on one thing long enough to finish it is hard for me.

So, this running, this training for a long, crazy relay race, is terrifying for me. Every time I take the first step out my door for a run. Every time I pack my littles in the car and head for the gym. I'm scared. This is not easy for me.

And that's what makes it good.

Every mile (every footfall, really) feels like a triumph. Each tiny milestone has been so joyful -- being able to run for 15 minutes without stopping to rest, breaking below a 13 minute mile, running every other day for an entire week -- these may seem so small to an experienced runner. They are my daily celebrations.

A few days ago, I was on the treadmill at the gym and I found myself smiling. Smiling!! I was on the latter end of my second mile, listening to Owl City's "Fireflies" and just so happy to be alive, to be running, to be strong and healthy. In that moment I loved myself with everything I had, the world was just as it should be.

Today I left the gym with sweat beading on my forehead. My face was red. My skin was warm and tingly. My head was light and clear.

It was a beautiful thing.

I'm excited to find what this running thing has to teach me. I'm getting the feeling that it will be much like yoga, like childbirth -- the search for the calm in the storm, learning to sink into the moment, to breathe, to calm my mind and feel the earth beneath me and do nothing extra.

I think I'm going to enjoy being a runner.

Coco Says I Need To Post a Picture Of Him

2010-03-19T07:16:00.001-07:00

He saw my last post, about Peanut and said "No, meeeeee! Put me on there!"

Here you go!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Little Peanut Loves the Music

2010-03-19T07:09:00.000-07:00

And the visualizer too. We have an Appletv and whenever there is music playing, a visualizer comes on the screen with the music. Dancing colors! As the picture above shows, Peanut LOVES it. What the picture doesn't show is that he scooted all the way across the living room (and out of his pants) to get there.

This kid also has some serious rhythm! We were dancing together yesterday afternoon and I stopped moving to find that he was bouncing on my hip, all by himself, right to the beat of the music.

I adore this sweet boy!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I'm Wondering...

2010-03-12T06:48:00.001-08:00

Does letting my boys have Mohawks for one school day (not a crazy hair day) make me the fun mom or the irresponsible mom?

We'll be shaving them off before church on Sunday.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Everybody Loves Chuck

2010-03-11T14:38:00.000-08:00

I've attempted to write this post on March 11 every year since I started this blog. Hopefully this will be the year that it actually makes it out the gate for you to read.

This is a post about my Daddy. Because today is his birthday.

My dad was born in Los Angeles in the late 1950s. He grew up in California, then moved to our small Utah hometown when he was 15 (white t-shirt, black leather jacket and all). He met my mom that year. He likes to tell the story about seeing her picture before he met her and thinking she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

He has worked as a diesel mechanic, at the salt plant near the Great Salt Lake, at an auto supply store and at his current job. I have no idea what his job title is now, but the work he does is really cool -- helping to build and keep running efficiently munitions incinerators all over the world.

He's a fixer. And engineer without the degree and the book-learning that gets in the way of the common sense. He's funny and kind and a phenomenal grandpa.

There's a scripture that always reminds me of my dad.

"We love him, because he first loved us." 1 John 4:19

My dad has this amazing quality of effortlessly loving other people and making them feel comfortable. Hence the title. Everybody loves Chuck, because Chuck loves everybody.

His isn't a visiting-teacher-relief-society-president kind of love. The gooey, cheesy, can-i-bring-you-a-casserole kind of love.

It's the pat-you-on-the-back, make-up-funny-names-for-you, tease-you-relentlessly and put-you-at-ease kind of love.

It's also love in action.

A few years ago, I went to my parents' house to have my dad help me fix our car and teach me how to change the oil. He did, of course. But the whole time I was there, he was also helping a young man who lived in his ward. This man's wife was being treated for cancer, he was depressed and struggling quite a bit. So, with his typical, home-spun kindness, my dad took him under his wing. He came over to his garage many times during that period in his life to fix his cars. While I was there, he helped my dad and I with my van. I have a feeling that there was much more mended at that time than engines.

This is typical of my dad. His heart and his garage are very similar places. There's always room for everyone. There's always someone or something there, being mended, being made better. There's always quite a motley assortment of tools (or people) that my dad knows just how to make feel useful, important and worthwhile.

He was a dad who played with me and that is priceless. He helped me with valentine boxes and science projects. He taught me to hit and catch a softball. He flew kites with me. He shares my love of Thoreau and loves me for my march to a different drummer. He marches to the beat of a different drummer too. He and I are kindred spirits. I have lots of poems to write about him, but they never seem to come out right.

Dad, I'm so glad you were born. I'm so glad you're mine. Happy birthday!

{pictures hopefully coming soon, but seriously, it's been yeaaaaars. i have to get this posted.}

My Friday Evening

2010-03-05T20:09:00.001-08:00

Gun show. Major muscles!!

Pouty, unhappy, grumbling 9 year old.

Sick, sleepy, cuddly Coco.

Husband working in the dark.

Sweet daughter reading.

Oh and you may have glimpsed my date for later this evening in the picture behind Mashuga. Two whole baskets full...

Happy Friday!

My Husband Is Wonderful

2010-03-03T14:39:00.000-08:00

I get a little crazy sometimes. And soul weary. And discouraged.

I'm lucky to have one of the best friends in the world to pull me back. He gives me solid ground to stand on and wings to fly.

I love you, honey.

This song came on the radio today. I'd never heard it before, but it reminds me so much of JDub.

Everybody needs inspiration
Everybody needs a song
A beautiful melody
When the night's are long
Cause there is no guarantee
That this life is easy

Yeah, when my world is falling apart
When there's no light to break up the dark
That's when I, I, I look at you
When the waves are flooding the shore and I
Can't find my way home anymore
That's when I, I, I look at you

When I look at you
I see forgiveness
I see the truth
You love me for who I am
Like the stars hold the moon
Right there where they belong and I know
I'm not alone

Yeah, when my world is falling apart
When there's no light to break up the dark
That's when I, I, I look at you
When the waves are flooding the shore and I
Can't find my way home anymore
That's when I, I, I look at you

You appear just like a dream to me
Just like kaleidoscope colors that
Cover me
All I need
Every breath, that I breathe
Dontcha know?
You're beautiful

Yeah yeah..

When the waves are flooding the shore
And I cant find my way home anymore
Thats when I,
I I look at you
I look at you

Yeah yeah..
Oh oh..
You appear just like a dream to me...

Maladjustment

2010-02-27T08:49:00.000-08:00

A quote that has been running through my head for the past few weeks:

"... there are certain things in our nation and in the world which I am proud to be maladjusted and which I hope all men of good-will will be maladjusted until the good societies realize." -- Martin Luther King, Jr.

I'm curious. Are there things the world considers normal to which you are grateful to be maladjusted? What are they?

Messy, Messy Boy

2010-02-23T21:50:00.001-08:00

I'm so lucky that my neighbor is also such a good friend and loves Coco so much. This is what he looked like after he crawled into her beanbag.

Her kids helped with the mess, of course, but she's technically not required to be nice to my child.

She sent me this picture shortly after it happened. I'm still laughing.

Babies (and Toddlers) Don't Keep

2010-02-19T11:12:00.001-08:00

Coco and Peanut and I have had a marvelous morning. We've read books and snuggled and tickled and giggled and kissed and bounced and thoroughly enjoyed one another.

Meanwhile, my house is a disaster. The floor is scattered with unsorted socks and toys and paper scraps from last night's mad dash to finish science projects. The kitchen floor desperately needs a mopping. There may even be half of a soggy donut squished in the bathroom sink. But I don't want to think about that.

Housekeeping has never been one of my strengths. I'm ok with that and over the years I have developed better habits. I've gotten much better and have set and usually stuck to a standard of clean that our family is happy with.

Those standards have kind of fallen apart since Peanut joined our family. It nags at me sometimes.

But as I've played this morning with these precious, precious, sweet, wonderful, tiny boys the last two lines of a poem have been running through my head. I'm not sure who wrote it. I originally saw it on a crossstitch pattern when Kaitybean was a baby.

I hope that my child, looking back on today
Will remember a mother who had time to play;
Because children grow up while you're not looking,
There are years ahead for cleaning and cooking.
So, quiet now cobwebs, dust go to sleep.
I'm nursing my baby, and babies don't keep.

It's so true. They just don't keep. They never, never stay little long enough. Already our morning is over. Coco is out the door and across the street playing with a friend.

In an hour I will walk out the door to attend a maturation program with Kaitybean. The sweet baby I used to nurse is now on the cusp of becoming a woman. I miss her sometimes.

So, though the donut in the sink and the chocolate milk on the kitchen floor keep nagging at me, I am sitting here, loving and nursing my beautiful baby. I will miss him someday.

And the kitchen floor will still be waiting.

Just Me, My Update and $5 In Gas

2010-02-17T11:46:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago I was driving home from the temple and noticed that my gas tank was completely empty. I knew that our bank account was also dangerously close to empty. So, I stopped at the gas station and purchased $5 in gas. $5. I haven't done that since I was 19 and going to college. Of course, back then, $5 would buy me half a tank...

I got home to find all of the children in bed and I melted into JDub's arms.

$5 of gas feels like a metaphor for my life right now. I feel like I'm always doing just enough to get by. There's barely enough money to pay the bills. I'm barely keeping the laundry from exploding out the windows. I'm barely keeping enough groceries in the house to keep these ravenous and growing children fed. Barely enough. Barely enough. It's like my head is staying above water, but only just.

I told JDub this. And laughed. Our life is just so funny lately, so off track from where I thought it would be 5 years, 1 year, even 2 months ago.

Life is busy right now. We have two separate science projects going in our house. Kaitybean is dissolving jawbreakers in her bedroom. Scud is working on killing ivy in our kitchen. Each evening he and I pour a quarter cup of water, weed killer, vinegar, borax water, hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol into each respective plant. It's been interesting. Vinegar, surprisingly, had the quickest and most devastating effect. Tonight we will begin our research on each of these chemicals to figure out how and why they've had the effect they've had. A little backward, but like I said before, we're doing what we can right now.

Kaitybean has been much more independent (and scientific) with her project.

I have been filling out applications for charter schools for Mashuga. I'm not sure I'm going to send him to a different school next year. But, I want to have the option next year if it feels right. It would be more than a little insane, as it would mean having my children in three separate schools. Creating opportunities...

I've also been filling out other school applications. My own. Yes, if everything goes as planned, I will be going back to school in the fall. Given the fluctuations and uncertainties with JDub's salary and career this past year, I decided that I needed to have a degree and a career option under my belt. I could probably get a good job with the education I already have. I could even, eventually, build up my birth business to a point that it could provide a steady extra income. But, I really want to have something that I can step into, if necessary, and know that it will be steady, reliable work I enjoy with steady, reliable pay.

I've applied to both the local universities. I've already been accepted to one and need to finish a few more steps before my application is complete for the other. Then, I'll have to see which school will be a better fit for me. Either one will require me to take at least a semester and probably a full year's worth of prerequisites before I can apply for the nursing program at either school. Hopefully while I'm doing this, I can also finish off a minor in English and take the necessary classes to help me be ready to apply for the MFA in Creative Writing that I eventually want to complete.

Just thinking about it makes me tired. Of course, that could also be the staying up until midnight writing application essays.

In addition to this, we've been in and out of the doctor and the dentist for routine checkups, sickness, fillings, root canals, etc.

Mashuga has been sick off and on for weeks. Oh, and he has a tumor called an odontoma in his jaw where one of his permanent molars should have developed. It will require surgery to remove it. Surprisingly, I'm not sweating it too much. It is what it is. It can be fixed. It's not life threatening. It'll be ok.

Scud has been playing basketball and is pretty decent at it. He's learning fast. Kaitybean entered a fabulous poem in the state Junior Creative contest this week. I mailed my annual entries for the Utah State Poetry Society's contests a few weeks ago and am now pulling together my entries for national contesting.

JDub is working hard (not new), making progress with a couple of his long-term goals (memory ties, RBW purchase) and enjoying working with the 9 year old cub scouts.

See what I mean about busy???

In the end I have to just smile. Life is good and joyful. Spring is coming. Our home is a crazy, noisy, bustling and fun, happy place. I'm not wishing away these fantastic years of my life (though I do wish away the days sometimes).

And I have to remind myself of the tremendous blessing of enough.

I keep saying that we have and are and are doing barely enough. But the beautiful brilliant part of that statement is that it is, in fact, enough.

I am enough. I have enough. I do enough.

Barely enough sometimes. But it is still sufficient to keep our family happy and well and to call down blessings from a Heavenly Father who is always mindful of us.

God is good. Life is good.

Conversation With Mashuga

2010-02-08T08:27:00.001-08:00

Mashuga: Mom, I think you're going to have another baby soon.
Me: Oh really? What makes you say that?
Mashuga(pointing to my tummy): That. See? It's getting bigger.
Me: Um, no. That's just fat. Thanks so much for pointing it out.
Mashuga(smiling): You're welcome.

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Tummy Time

2010-01-17T18:46:00.001-08:00

I love this stage. Peanut is just dying to crawl and loves being on his tummy. It's fun to see him trying to move. But I'm hoping he'll wait a while before he manages it. I'd like to keep my baby a bit longer.

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Please add your faith and prayers

2010-01-05T22:42:00.000-08:00

Go to this website and read about baby Gavin and his strong, faithful mama:

http://www.natalienortonphoto.com/

Then, please pray and send positive thoughts to them.

Thank you.

These people are complete strangers to me, but I am utterly astounded by the strength of this mothers faith.

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Peanut's Favorite Part of Christmas

2010-01-05T07:19:00.001-08:00

The paper!!!

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2009 in Pictures

2010-01-04T15:34:00.000-08:00

What a fun year it has been! Click either to see full size.

2009, Let's Do It Again

2009-12-31T12:41:00.001-08:00

What a year! I will always remember this as the year my sweet 5th child was born. It will be the year the economy went nuts, our salary was cut in half and we depleted our savings and went back into debt, bit by painful bit. It will be the year I developed a serious facebook addiction. The year I decided that I needed friends, deserved friends and took the time to reach out and be a better friend. It was the year of goblin valley and dentist bills. It has been a time of battling the most annoyingly on again/off again case of postpartum depression. It will be the year I had Judy as my visiting teaching companion and re-learned the importance of visiting teaching and love with boldness.

It's been a bittersweet year. I've learned and grown a lot. I feel like I've lost myself in some ways. Found myself in others. All in all, I'm grateful to have had the bitter as well as the sweet. I'm deep in my bones glad and grateful to have been me this year.

Here's the blog review (which has been somewhat sparse for the year and not necessarily the best journal of my year -- Oops.) Maybe I'll have to post a facebook recap to get the real journal aspect.

January

I'm proud to be an American today.

I've felt and given heed to the call to burrow deep, to spiral within and integrate all that I've learned in the wildly creative period of the last year or so, to discover who I am becoming and what I can make of this next phase in my life. I am in no hurry to return or to rush the changes that are taking place.

February

Then there's the whole feeling I have lately that I think I'm sort of impaired when it comes to the friendship thing. I've felt rather lonely lately.

I like the name Alex but like other names better: Milly, Samantha, Claire. We shall see. Of course, she could be a boy.

This world is made of moments,
all ripe for celebration.

I wonder about the future repercussions of pursuing a diagnosis, both positive and negative. But, more than anything, I just want to do what is right for Scud. The hard part is often knowing just what "right" is.

I've been reminded that happiness and joy come entirely from within. They can coexist with ANY given situation and have nothing to do with what is happening outside of me. That doesn't mean it's not okay to be sad, angry, hurt or upset. Those emotions have their place and are always worth feeling fully and learning from. But joy is always there, just underneath. If I allow it to be.

March

But faith is that forward step. That determination to go on, to trust the perfection inherent in our life and to allow the negative to be impermanent, to wash over us and then fall away as we claim the joy that is our heritage as children of a God who loves us.

Lesson learned: Never make a double batch of anything you don't KNOW your children will like. Otherwise, you'll end up finishing them off by yourself, two at a time, for daaaays.

April

A lot of things that were troubling me have kind of just melted away. Isn't funny how that happens sometimes? Time and patience and perspective just make things seem smaller and then sometimes they even just resolve on their own.

So THAT"S What They Think Of Me

I would like to write a poem in response to this about the feeling of having threads upon threads flowing from my heart through space and time. What a feeling it is to be the mother of many and for my love to have grown so big and to extend to so many that I hardly feel like I can contain it sometimes. I am such a miraculously blessed woman.

So, for some reason I'm fascinated by word verification. Every time I leave a comment I look to see what weird combination of letters will pop up. Sometimes it almost makes sense. Sometimes it makes me laugh. Sometimes it borders on obscene.

May

Hopefully I reassured her. I hope, at least, that she was no longer worried that the swine flu would be the end of the world.

Just minutes after taking the medicine, he was curled up on my lap smiling a goofy, out-of-it smile and reaching for things that weren't there. In a moment of clarity he turned to face me and said "Mom, I think something's messing with my mind."

Apparently I've had a lot to say over the last couple of years, just not enough time to really finish saying it all. I felt compelled today to share these bits with you. Perhaps I'll finish and polish up a few of these and post them in their full forms.

So, I was feeling like finishing some projects today. And I did!

June

All in all, a pretty good summer morning. Can I just say how incredibly, exhaustingly joyful it is to be the mother of four spirited kiddos.

During intermission I had a little conversation with JDub. I determined that there are three things that are hard for me to watch: live theatre, live soccer and pregnant women. With all three, I just want so much to be involved and it takes some doing to just relax and enjoy.

"Once upon a time there were three sharks..."
"Why?"

The Lord always gives more than is taken from us. The recompense is not always what we expect it to be, or when we expect it to be. But it always comes.

For me, it has come in the form of peace, a settled feeling that all is well and as it should be. When I think about that time, I just can't feel the pain as clearly anymore because it has been so deeply overcome by the joy, gladness, thanksgiving and praise that have filled that place.

July

The website is Mother's Advocate. Definitely worth a visit if you're expecting a baby, will be soon or are just interested in learning more.

I saw a lot of myself in her. (Except for the fact that she's hilariously irreverent in a way I could never dream of being.) But a lot of the change in ideas that have come on as I've taken the time to read and educate myself about birth are very similar.

Among other things, I love it how he always comes to me crying and blurts out "Daddy (or Kaitybean or Mashuga or Scud) day me NO!" Telling Coco no is one of the worst things you can possibly do to him.

All in all a successful camping trip. I only had to walk the 50 yards or so to the bathrooms about 4 times during the night. Didn't sleep much. But, I don't sleep much at home these days. So might as well not sleep somewhere beautiful, eh?

I laugh at the less-than-stellar moments of pregnancy: the now cumbersome belly, the ridiculous round-ligament pain, the multiple trips to the bathroom (some coming less than 5 minutes apart), the hips that hurt in the morning and leave me walking like an old lady. And then I cherish them too. When will I ever feel this again? Even the pain and the discomfort are precious. They are teachers, reminders of how alive I am, how fortunate I am to be a mother, how worthwhile the fruits of this short season will be, how short this season truly is.

August

"Mommy, I need diaper change. I 'mell 'tinky and da big kids won't pway wif me."

So, you know that list of great books to read during pregnancy? The one I promised to post quite a while ago? Well, here it is finally!

For those most intuitive among you (or maybe I'm giving myself too little credit for clarity), it is clear that I am freaking out a little.

OUR SWEET BABY IS HERE!

"How I wish I had a voice and words,
I've a hundred things to say.
Before I forget, I'd tell you of God --
I left Him yesterday."
--Carol Lynn Pearson

September

Honestly, it was the perfect birth for me. It wasn't easy, but by staying in the moment and embracing each moment, it was extraordinary. Ecstatic. Moving. Beautiful. The way I wish normal birth could be for every woman.

And, of course, a beautiful pregnancy and wonderful birth were both lagniappe.

Because now we have him and it feels like I've known him forever. I have no idea how I lived without him for 31 years.

It's always so much fun to introduce little ones to their new babies.

October

He is that passionate, beautiful blend of sweet, sassy, curious and mischievous that is two-going-on-three. He needs me desperately and he knows it. He wants to be his own man. And he wants me to know it.

All of these are on my phone. I have better pictures on my regular camera when I get around to uploading them. Hope you enjoy these for now!

I guess there's much more to be glad for than to complain about.

Lately, Coco has been really serious about his life. For instance, on Saturday when I was strapping him in his carseat to leave Grandma's house, he kept repeating "No! This is not my life! This not my life!"

November

Mashuga (very matter-of-factly): Kaitybean, do you see this book I'm reading? It's about aliens. And it's NON-FICTION.

I am posting this from the mother's room at church. I am nursing a sweet baby and my stomach is grrrrumbling because I forgot breakfast. So, since I'm thinking about food anyway I thought I'd post about my favorite breakfast.

Why is it that, when you have a baby, time seems to literally speed up?

I think it may be my ADD tendencies that cause my odd reading habits. But at any given time, I'm usually in the middle of several books. I switch based on mood or just read whichever book is closest.

December

Do you ever feel this breathless audacity?
This disbelief that moments such as these
save a space for you?

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T08:22:00.000-08:00

One Morning In December

2009-12-15T18:47:00.000-08:00

Some December mornings feel like this for me.

One Morning in December
by Heather Duncan

Just now I’ve slipped
from the softness of sheets on skin
to savor the silky silence
of morning before dawn.

Rusty, our golden retriever,
nudges me and I slide
the back door open.
She runs headlong into icy air.

I start the teakettle toward her singing
then sit to scribble this note to you.

Do you ever feel this breathless audacity?
This disbelief that moments such as these
save a space for you?

Sweet, Sweet Baby

2009-11-25T09:51:00.001-08:00

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Books I Am Reading

2009-11-23T07:18:00.001-08:00

Yes, I said books. Plural.

I think it may be my ADD tendencies that cause my odd reading habits. But at any given time, I'm usually in the middle of several books. I switch based on mood or just read whichever book is closest.

Here is my current list:

•Fablehaven, Rise of the Evening Star by Brandon Mull
•Earthborn by Orson Scott Card
•The No Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley
•Persuasion by Jane Austen
•I Hate It When Exercise Is the Answer by Emily Watts
•The Frozen Kingdom, poems about a breast cancer journey by Gail G. Schimmelpfennig
•An Unquiet Mind by Kay Redfield Jamison

So, what about you? What are you reading? And do you have any odd reading habits or do you read one book at a time like a normal person?

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Newborn Photos of Peanut

2009-11-13T10:13:00.000-08:00

This darling newborn is now THREE months old.

Wipes tears...

Why is it that, when you have a baby, time seems to literally speed up?

Photos taken by my talented and generous friend, the ShutterDoula.

My favorite morning smoothie

2009-11-08T10:29:00.000-08:00

I am posting this from the mother's room at church. I am nursing a sweet baby and my stomach is grrrrumbling because I forgot breakfast. So, since I'm thinking about food anyway I thought I'd post about my favorite breakfast. I love making whole juice smoothies for breakfast. Yummy, quick and I get in most of my fruits & veggies in one meal.

Here is my favorite "recipe":

1/2-1 cup juice (I usually use apple or grape)
Large handful of grapes
1-2 handfuls of fresh spinach
Handful of baby carrots
About 2/3 cup frozen blueberries
4-6 frozen strawberries
Sometimes I also add a banana and/or half an avocado
Sometimes I also add a tbsp of benefiber

Add all ingredients to the blender (juice & soft stuff first, frozen and hard things last). On my blendtec I just push the "whole juice" button a couple of times. On a vita mix or other blender you'd probably just start with a low setting and increase the speed, blending until it's smooth. This recipe usually makes about three cups. I drink two and Coco drinks one (a little at a time, cuz this stuff is a bugger to clean up).

See, Coco loves it!

Man, now I'm reeeallly hungry!

Do you have any favorite smoothie (or other breakfast recipes) I should know? If you do, post them in the comments section or post to your blog and link back to me.

Have a happy Sunday!

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Overheard

2009-11-04T10:35:00.001-08:00

Kaitybean: Aliens are not real, Mashuga!
Mashuga: Yes they are!
Kaitybean: Are not!
Mashuga (very matter-of-factly): Kaitybean, do you see this book I'm reading? It's about aliens. And it's NON-FICTION.

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Coco's Recent Funnies

2009-10-27T23:42:00.001-07:00

Lately, Coco has been really serious about his life. For instance, on Saturday when I was strapping him in his carseat to leave Grandma's house, he kept repeating "No! This is not my life! This not my life!"

He says this a lot when I try to get him to do something he doesn't like.

Then today I told him he couldn't have any more candy. He looked at me, serious as can be and said, "You don't know! Candy is my life!"

Yes. He's only two.

And he's adding an s onto nearly every noun he says lately. So candy is actually his "lifes".

This kid kills me.

Earlier today I was nursing Peanut and heard Coco opening the door.

"Coco, you stay in here! Close that door right now!" I told him.

Then I heard his little feet running across the porch as he yelled in exultation, "I are breeeeeee!"

Oh yes, and let's not forget the day a few weeks ago when the guy from the power company came to check our meter.

Coco looked out the window and said, "Who is he? I don't like him. He breeks me out."

What am I going to do with this child????

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Dispatch From Crazyland

2009-10-12T00:37:00.001-07:00

Just a note. Driving home from Arizona to Utah all in one day sucks. Seriously sucks rocks. Especially by 1:24am when both parents are tired and kidlets are still not sleeping.

But, for the sake of your sanity and to keep a happy tone on this sweet lil blog o mine, we'll play the glad game.

-I'm so glad I've gotten to spend the last 15 hours talking to, reading with, laughing with, arguing with, holding hands with and otherwise playing with and enjoying my sweetheart and best friend.

-I'm so glad that sweet Peanut has been such a good baby on this trip. He has slept well and barely fussed at all.

-I'm so grateful for breast pumps and big kids who can hold bottles and replace binkies. How did we ever do road trips otherwise?

-I'm glad we got to spend so much time talking with and getting to know JDub's cousin Byron. Seriously. What a cool guy. Whatever woman gets to marry him will be a lucky, lucky woman.

-I'm glad we got to celebrate the life of a lovely, righteous woman. Glad my children got to learn about her and her life.

-I'm glad for iPhones, GPS and Google Maps. Oh. and U-turns.

-I'm glad we've gotten to spend so much time with siblings and best friends. I adore JDub's siblings and their spouses. And their kids. I have such cool nephews.

-I'm glad for a functioning car. And portable DVD players. And books. And pretzels. And public parks. And playplaces in fast food joints. And caffeine. Yes, even caffeine.

I guess there's much more to be glad for than to complain about.

I'm glad for perspective.

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Watch Me Grow!

2009-10-07T07:46:00.001-07:00

Peanut has changed so much over the past 8 weeks. Yes. He is 8 weeks old now. Unbelievable!

Here are a few pictures of his cute little life so far.

Day One

Day two or three

Day two or three

Two weeks

Between three and four weeks

One month

Six weeks

Eight weeks

All of these are on my phone. I have better pictures on my regular camera when I get around to uploading them.
Hope you enjoy these for now!

The Awesomeness That Is Coco Right Now

2009-10-06T18:28:00.001-07:00

Coco is growing ever nearer to the "trying threes." And he's having a hard time adjusting to having all his buddies go to school and sharing Mommy with a baby all at the same time. And it shows.

He makes messes. LOTS of messes every day. He throws gargantuan temper tantrums over tiny things like his water not being "big 'nough" and his hot cocoa being made in the microwave instead of on the stove. Sometimes he takes a nap during the day. Sometimes he doesn't. And some days he is a monster child by 6pm regardless of nap status.

But he is also so darling and so awesome right now. He makes it all worth it.

At least once a day he holds my face between his chubby little hands and shakes it as he says "I like you! I like you! I like you!"

When the kids leave for school in the morning, he stands at the window and says sadly, "My buddies all gone. I need some buddy to play with." To him somebody=some buddy. And it fits. He has so many buddies in this world and loves them all sooooo much.

He remembers every week that "payboop is on Wenday" and asks me frequently "It Wenday yet, Mama? I go payboop?"

So many things right now are absolute and hyperbole. "I nebber pay my cars again!" He cries when I make him put them away. "I nebber, ebber, ebber keen my woom!!!"

He is learning grammar, as is common for this age. And vocabulary. He calls nearly everyone "him" or "he" no matter what their gender. And he cracks us all up when he randomly adds "either" or "again" at the end of his sentences. Especially when he's mad. It's like an exclamation point. "I want ice cream. EITHER!"

He is that passionate, beautiful blend of sweet, sassy, curious and mischievous that is two-going-on-three. He needs me desperately and he knows it. He wants to be his own man. And he wants me to know it.

He enchants and exasperates me in equal measure.

And I'm so glad to be his mama.

Coco-buddy, I like you! I like you! I like you!

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Coco and Mashuga Meet Peanut

2009-09-15T09:22:00.000-07:00

So, Coco and Mashuga were very surprised to wake up in the morning and find out their new brother was here.

Mashuga wanted to hold him immediately.

Coco was not so sure, but eventually warmed up and decided he was curious.

It's always so much fun to introduce little ones to their new babies.

Peanut's Birth Story -- The Real Deal

2009-09-13T14:55:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure a phone call sent me into labor.

After all of the anxiety and preparation and prayer of the preceding week, I did the hardest thing of all. I called my friend, Laura, ready to give her half of my bank account and beg her to be my doula at the last minute. Why was this so hard? I don't know. I felt so foolish for waiting until I was 39 weeks pregnant to decide, for sure, that I wanted a doula present at my birth. I was afraid she'd think I was foolish, too. Of course, if a friend were to call me at the last minute to be at her birth, I'd do everything I could to rearrange my life to be there. I'd be happy to help. I forget that other people like me too. Enough to happily help and take care of me.

At about 5pm on August 10th I called her.

Her (typical Laura) response: "I'd be honored."

Then we spent the next two hours talking about my pregnancy, what preparations I'd made, what my needs and her role for this birth would be. By the time we finished talking, I felt like there was more oxygen in the room, like the weights tied to my ankles were gone, like a million tiny springs were uncoiling all over inside my body.

The final piece was in place. Everything would be ok. Laura would be there.

I went to the bathroom and was surprised to find a bit of bloody show. I didn't think much of it because I wasn't having any contractions. Actually, I thought it meant I would probably go into labor in the morning. That's how it has happened for the last three, I'd wake up with contractions and have a baby by that afternoon/evening.

So, we had dinner and put kids to bed. Then I went to WalMart to get dog food and grapes.

While I was there I felt a bit achy, but I was not contracting. I had no inkling that I might actually be about to start labor (or perhaps be dilating/laboring already). I remember looking at people as I walked around and thinking "They have no idea that I'm going to go into labor and have a baby tomorrow."

I schlepped the 40 lb bag of dog food out to the car (along with my grapes and the ice cream and other things that jumped into the cart). On the way home, I talked to Peanut about his birth. I told him I loved him and that I would do everything I could to get him here safely and coached him again on his job. Head down, back forward, chin tucked. Then, as I was stopped at a stop sign just a few minutes from our house, I told him I was ready for him to come. I told him I was ready to do whatever it took and he could come any time he wanted. Immediately I had an intensely powerful contraction. Seriously. It was huge. I felt a kind of popping sensation along with it and thought, "Holy cow, I think I dilated 4 centimeters just with that contraction."

That was about 11:30pm.

I drove home and took things into the house (I made JDub carry the dog food). At about 11:45, I was standing in the kitchen and had another contraction (not as strong this time) and felt another pop. And my underwear were suddenly very wet. It wasn't like a gush (like when my water broke with Kaitybean) and there was no puddle on the floor. It was just a little fluid. I sat on the toilet and a little more fluid came out. It was, thankfully, clear and not a lot of fluid. I think his head was probably pressed pretty well against my cervix and kept most of the fluid in.

I told JDub that I thought my water had broken and started contracting pretty regularly. We finished putting things away, took the grapes off their stems and rinsed them. Each time I'd have a contraction I would hold on to the counter or the stove, lean forward and rock back and forth. JDub massaged my lower back and hips, which felt wonderful. He gave me a priesthood blessing, where I was promised help from the other side of the veil, added strength and a healthy baby and mom.

Finally, I decided it was probably time to call Suzanne, my midwife, and give her a heads up. We decided, first, to time a few contractions and see how close they were. They were lasting about 45 seconds and were a pretty consistent 2 minutes and 45 seconds apart. And definitely getting stronger.

Still, I was convinced that this was just early labor. My plan was to call Suzanne and then go to sleep "until things got serious". It didn't even occur to me that things might already be getting "serious".

I called Suzanne, told her what was happening. She asked if I wanted her to come and I told her the plan. I was just going to wait it out and I'd call her when I needed her. I just wanted to let her know it would be soon.

Then we called Laura. She also asked what was happening and talked me through a few contractions over the phone. I told her of the "wait until things get serious" plan. She asked where I was feeling the sensations and I told her "Mostly in the front of my abdomen, near my pubic bone and in my inner thighs."

Bless Laura and her spot-on instincts.

"Um, if you're feeling sensations in your inner thighs and your contractions are that close, I think I'm going to assert myself," she said. "I'm just going to start moseying on down there."

"Actually, I think that's a good idea," I told her.

She instructed me to eat something and then to spend some time on hands and knees (leaning on a birth ball) and to do some aggressive pelvic tilting during contractions to promote rotation and descent.

This was about 12:35am on August 11th.

Sometime during my next few contractions, I ended up on the birth ball in our hallway. I did pelvic tilts during contractions and at first didn't like it because it made the sensations much more intense. Actually, the sensations were just intense. I had a very lucid moment in that hallway when I thought, "You know, I think I completely skipped early labor."

These were not early labor contractions. They were powerful. The pressure and pain radiated all through my abdomen, my back and my thighs.

Then something miraculous happened.

There was a little voice in my head. "You have a choice here," it told me. "You can run from the intensity of these contractions. You can fight them. Or you can embrace them and go straight to the center."

I decided right then to embrace, to allow each surge to wash over me and to find my way to the center of each sensation and really feel it.

And here's the amazing thing: When I decided to embrace the sensations, they actually got easier. The actual feeling of each contraction was not nearly as difficult as they were in the story I had running inside my head. Now, each pelvic tilt actually felt good to me. It felt great to move into, rather than away from what I was feeling. I imagined my cervix y-a-w-n-i-n-g wide open with each contraction. I felt help from the other side. Truly, it was amazing.

JDub continued to massage my back and touch me and stay with me.

At some point I decided that I was really tired of staring at the cracking paint above our dusty A/C intake vent and had JDub help me into our bedroom. The atmosphere there was MUCH better. A newly painted green, clean, restful bedroom with soft light from our bedside lamps was a much nicer place to be.

At about 1:30am I had JDub call Laura to see how close she was. She was about 5 minutes away. Then, I convinced myself that I really was in serious labor and probably ought to have our midwife come too. So I had him call Suzanne, also.

Laura arrived to find me leaning on the birth ball. With each contraction I'd tilt my pelvis and JDub would rub my back. Then, as the contraction ended, I'd rock my hips back and forth and sway on the birth ball until all of the tightness in my hips and thighs just faded away. Her presence was wonderful. She stroked my hair and talked softly, encouraging me through each wave. JDub went to fill the tub.

I got my ipod off of my nightstand and started listening to Jason Mraz and John Mayer and James Taylor. (I'll have to post my birth playlist. It was awesome.) That helped so much, but the earphones kept coming out. Laura pulled out her handy ipod dock and we were all able to listen.

Just after this, I got up to empty my bladder, get a drink and eat a bit more. When I came back to the bedroom, I tried to get back down on the birth ball but couldn't do it. I tried to crawl into bed. That wouldn't do either. The only thing that felt good was to mooove. Contractions were coming right on top of each other now, and it just felt good to walk right through them. I walked laps through our living room and kitchen, with my sweet husband trailing behind. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my back.

"Just touch me," I told him. "It feels better when you touch me."

Laura asked me how I was feeling, what my sensations were.

"Lots of pressure. Lots of pressure in my perineum and pelvis."

With a little bit of panic in her voice she asked, "Now do you think that pressure is a sign that it's a good time to call Suzanne?"

She seemed very relieved when JDub told her Suzanne was already on her way.

Soon, the walking stopped feeling good, so I got into our bed (with some help) and laid on my side. By this time, I was sure I was in transition. In transition I have almost always wanted to be very still. In that way, this birth was no different. The big difference was a wonderful one, though.

With my other births (particularly Mashuga and Coco), transition was a time of outer stillness and quiet but I was screaming inside. It was scary and I felt so alone. I don't know if it was because of the promised help from the other side, or my determination to simply embrace each moment as it came, or the attentiveness of Jeffrey and Laura. But during transition this time, my mind was as still and quiet as I was on the outside. I knew my baby was coming soon. I could literally feel him moving down through my body. Jeffrey held my hand and kept his face close to mine and I felt so safe and loved. Laura gently ran her fingers from my hip to my knee, which was so relaxing.

Jeffrey asked if I wanted to get in the tub. I nodded. He asked if I wanted him to check it or Laura. I wasn't sure whether I could live without either one of them at that moment, but decided he was the indispensable one and sent Laura.

I knew I was close to pushing, but wasn't about to rush it because Suzanne hadn't come yet. But, like I said earlier, I could literally feel Peanut moving down through my body. It was probably only a few minutes that I felt it, but it was felt like an eternity. And I was in a state of pure wonder. Just wow. Then, I heard a guttural, unintentional growl. I realized it came from me and that my body was pushing without my consent.

"Get Laura up here now," I told Jeffrey.

He went to the air vent and called to her.

I growled again.

"Laura, could you please come up here. NOW!" Jeffrey pleaded.

And I heard Laura running up the stairs.

"He's coming." I told her.

Laura was awesome. She was completely clear-headed. She found the chux pads in my birth kit and got them situated underneath me. She got some gloves on and got ready.

"Okay, Heather," she told me, "You place your hands wherever you feel they need to be and I will help you guide him out."

"Good, because he's here," I told him. I was feeling that unmistakable ring of fire that told me his head was right on my perineum. Even though I didn't believe it could be there already.

I reached down and, sure enough, I could feel his head at the opening of my vagina. I gently pushed with the next contraction, supporting my perineum with one hand and above his head with the other hand. I have no words to describe how miraculous, how empowering, how awe-inspiring and beautiful this moment was for me. It still brings me to tears. Whether through instinct or inspiration or both I knew exactly where to place my hands, where to put pressure to support the tissues and keep them from tearing. And I felt my precious baby's head slip right between my hands and into the world.

After this, I felt no urgency to push his shoulders out. I was just blissed out and resting for a minute. Laura suctioned his nose and mouth and then guided me to spread my legs open a bit wider and push the shoulders out. I wasn't quite ready to and when I spread my legs I felt a bit like I was pushing uphill. But I gave just a couple more pushes and his whole body came wriggling out. He cried immediately. It was the most beautiful sound imaginable.

Laura placed Peanut right on my chest, skin to skin. I was immediately in love with him.

So in love.

After that it is a bit of a blur. Suzanne made it just after Peanut was born. She was here to help deliver the placenta and to confirm that I had no tears and that my bleeding was normal.
We just snuggled him until his cord stopped pulsing and then Jeffrey cut the cord. We woke Scud and Kaitybean up to meet their new brother.

Suzanne weighed and measured and examined him to make sure he was healthy and strong. She gave us paperwork for his birth certificate and scheduled follow-up visits for 1 day, 2 weeks and 6 weeks. Then she left.

Laura stayed long enough to help clean up, to make sure I ate and was comfortable and ready for sleep. I took a picture of Jeffrey, who had fallen asleep at the foot of our bed holding Peanut and posted it on facebook. (Which was not a good idea because I hadn't yet called my parents or sister and my sister was at work and awake and saw the picture before I had told her personally that he was here and called my parents to see if they knew. I should have just called them all in the middle of the night, but I was exhausted and figured I'd just let them sleep and call in the morning. Oops. Oh well.)

Then, we settled in to sleep.

It was a wonderful experience. Now, I wonder if childbirth is a time of literal time dilation. All of this seemed to go in slow motion, even though it went so fast. Laura got here shortly after 1:30am and Peanut was born at 2:02am. But, I was so lucid (within my head) and every moment seemed so distinct and to stretch as if there was nothing else before or after it.

Honestly, it was the perfect birth for me. It wasn't easy, but by staying in the moment and embracing each moment, it was extraordinary. Ecstatic. Moving. Beautiful. The way I wish normal birth could be for every woman.

And, of course, a beautiful pregnancy and wonderful birth were both lagniappe.

Because now we have him and it feels like I've known him forever. I have no idea how I lived without him for 31 years.

Commercial Break

2009-08-27T13:04:00.001-07:00

I know I promised you a birth story and it's coming. :)

In the meantime, enjoy this video made by my cool BIL.

And if you'd like to go view it on the site, you can follow this link.

One Day Old

2009-08-22T15:28:00.000-07:00

Day Old Child: My day old child lay in my arms,
With my lips against his ear.
I whispered strongly, "How I wish--
I wish that you could hear,

"I've a hundred wonderful things to say,
(a tiny cough and a nod),
hurry, hurry, hurry and grow
So I can tell you about God."

My day-old baby's mouth was still
And my words only tickled his ear,
But a kind of light passed through his eyes,
And I saw this thought appear:

"How I wish I had a voice and words,
I've a hundred things to say.
Before I forget, I'd tell you of God --
I left Him yesterday."
--Carol Lynn Pearson

He's Here!!!

2009-08-20T15:43:00.001-07:00

It's been 9 days now and most of you either keep track of me through facebook or talk to me in person so it isn't news. But it still feels like news to me. I want to shout it from the rooftops.

OUR SWEET BABY IS HERE!

Here are the stats:

Date: August 11, 2009
Time: 2:02am after approximately 2 1/2 hours of labor and 2 minutes of pushing. That's a lot of 2's!!
Weight: 7 pounds 8 ounces
Length: 20 1/2 inches long

Absolutely darling.

My next post will be his birth story, with pictures.

Until then, you get to help name my baby!

Well, sort of...

I try to be pretty vigilant about keeping my children's identity secure on here, just in case, so they all have nicknames. But you know that.

So it's time to come up with a nickname for this new baby.

Some ideas I have:

Baby A
Peanut
Super Diaper Baby (SDB for short. Those with boys who read Captain Underpants books will really understand.)

Short list. Not all that creative. You can vote for any of my ideas or come up with your own and then we can either put it to a final vote, or I'll decide which I like best.

The Other Side of the Coin (For Entertainment Purposes Only)

2009-08-10T15:44:00.000-07:00

I almost posted this the day before our baby was born. This was just hours before I called my friend and doula-extraordinaire, Laura and invited her to come to our birth. Then labor started that night. And it was my easiest birth ever. You never know.

Alternate titles:

Pregnancy Hormones Run Amok
or
The Flip Side of an Ultra-Pleasant Pregnancy
or
Why Heather Is a Big, Fat, Ugly Liar and Lies To No One as Well as She Lies to Herself
or
Can't Somebody Else Do It?
or
Why Practice Doesn't Make Perfect When It Comes to Childbirth
or
Denial is NOT a River in Egypt
or
I Know This Baby Will Be Worth It, But...
or
Dooce is Way Cool, But Also Way Honest and She Scared the Living Daylights Out Of Me
or
Rainbow Relaxation Isn't Always Cutting It Lately
or
Can You Feel the Tigers Circling? Cause I Sure Can.
or
You Read My Joyful Musings, Now Face the Power of My Whining

For those most intuitive among you (or maybe I'm giving myself too little credit for clarity), it is clear that I am freaking out a little.

The Best Birth Books

2009-08-10T13:44:00.000-07:00

So, you know that list of great books to read during pregnancy? The one I promised to post quite a while ago? Well, here it is finally!

I was planning on writing a little blurb about each book and my opinions on it, what was best about it, etc. But I don't have the extra time or brain power for that right now. So, each book title links to its description on Amazon. That way, in true Reading Rainbow fashion, you don't have to take my word for it! You can go read what amazon and all of the reviews have to say.

My advice is to read at least three of these really good birth books while pregnant. The more you read, the more well-rounded your information and preparation will be. Enjoy!

Oh, and the stars and the Ps and Os and <3s.... If a book has a star by it, I have it in my library and am happy to loan it to friends and family. If it has a P or an O it means it is available at one of the two major local libraries in my area. If it has a <3 by it, it means I luuuuuuuurrrrrve that book!

Ina May's Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin * P O <3

The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth by Henci Goer * O <3

The Pregnancy Book by William and Martha Sears P

The Birth Book by William and Martha Sears *

Having a Baby, Naturally by Peggy O'Mara

Gentle Birth Choices by Barbara Harper P O

Birth Without Violence by Frederick LeBoyer P O

Birthing From Within by Pam England and Rob Horowitz * P <3

Pregnancy, Childbirth and the Newborn by Penny Simkin, Janet Whalley and Ann Keppler * P

Mind Over Labor by Carl Jones *

Active Birth by Janet Balaskas O

Your Best Birth by Ricki Lake, Abby Epstein and Jacques Moritz P O <3

Easing Labor Pain by Adrienne B. Liberman P

Disclaimer: This is probably far from an extensive list. But these are the books with which I am familiar enough to feel comfortable recommending. I have an alternate list of books to avoid (#1 being "What to Expect When You're Expecting." I have a friend who calls it "What to Freak Out About While You're Expecting.") but I chose to just keep to the positive list for this post.

Question

2009-08-08T09:37:00.000-07:00

What's even cooler than having a wonderful sister who has been your best friend for the better part of your life?

Having a sister who loves your kids as much as you do.

If you want to visit my sister's blog, she has some pretty silly pictures of my kids up right now.

Coco Quote

2009-08-06T09:41:00.001-07:00

"Mommy, I need diaper change. I 'mell 'tinky and da big kids won't pway wif me."

I Broke the Butter Dish and Other Confessions of Late Pregnancy

2009-07-31T08:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm the one who broke the butter dish. And the last of the glasses that Derrick and Kendra gave us. And one of our few remaining IKEA stoneware bowls. I'm always clumsy during pregnancy. Well, I'm fairly clumsy all the time. Something about the hormones and the physical changes of pregnancy just exacerbates it.

But strangely, I have felt anything but clumsy this pregnancy. Being pregnant this time around has been pure bliss. I feel beautiful, divine, big, powerful, capable, joyful, grateful beyond reckoning. It may be because this is likely my last chance to experience pregnancy. It may be because I am keenly aware of so many around me who are yearning to be pregnant, or whose pregnancies are truly difficult. But somehow I have been able to abide in each moment of this experience, to cherish it for what it is, to revel in this partnership with the divine in creating a body to house a precious spirit.

I laugh at the less-than-stellar moments of pregnancy: the now cumbersome belly, the ridiculous round-ligament pain, the multiple trips to the bathroom (some coming less than 5 minutes apart), the hips that hurt in the morning and leave me walking like an old lady. And then I cherish them too. When will I ever feel this again? Even the pain and the discomfort are precious. They are teachers, reminders of how alive I am, how fortunate I am to be a mother, how worthwhile the fruits of this short season will be, how short this season truly is.

I think it is also a blessing to have a summer baby. I visit my garden in the mornings to tend and weed and water and harvest, the warmth of the sun radiating through me. The squatting and the bending and the reaching are wonderful preparation for my physical body. The widely opening flowers, soon to be ripe with fruit, are a comfort and companion to my mother-soul. The effortless green and growth are nourishment to my spirit and a gentle example of our equal needs, the garden and I, for nourishment and tender care.

In my favorite birth book, Birthing From Within, there is a powerful exercise. It is one I teach my BFW classes and doula clients. It is the process of choosing one's Deepest Question. Like affirmations, it is a way of bringing mind and body into congruence. Even more powerful, to my mind. In asking the question over and over, we invite ourselves to live the answer. And as I live the answer now and the next moment and the next moment, I can know with surety that I will still be living my answer as I give birth and learn to mother a new child.

My question through the latter half of this pregnancy has been this:

How am I opening to this moment?

Each time I ask this again, I feel myself crack open just a little wider. I feel my heart open, my mind open, my eyes open, my hands open. I feel myself opening to and embracing the joy, the humor, the aching hips, the gentle nudges of my baby each morning, the nervousness about having five children, the breaking butter dishes. I am opening to all of the possibilities this particular birthing adventure might take, to the love and kindness of friends and family and strangers who are eager to share in this experience, to the wonder in my children's eyes as they marvel over my hee-uuuge tummy, the adoration and devotion of my dear husband. I am claiming and embracing it all, without apology, with an inkling that I just might be one of the most blessed women in existence right now.

My preparation for Coco's birth was an exercise in trust, a warrior-like need for battle readiness, almost an existential crisis. (I frequently pull myself into the-chicken-or-the-egg type discussions about this. Was Coco's birth my most intense because I was so intense about preparing for it, or did my spirit know how desperately I needed that intense preparation for the phenomenal experience to come?)

This experience has been so incredibly different. It has been one of curiosity, gentleness and steady, calm assurance. Perhaps I am living the calm of the warrior. Coco's birth taught me that I am made of tougher stuff than I ever imagined. Perhaps my spirit really knows what's coming and I'm in for an easier ride this time.

Either way, I'm ready. Open. Grateful.

I'm in no hurry to part with this little one, to end this treasured experience. But I feel the end coming soon. And when it comes, I will open body, mind and spirit and let my little one come from my body to my arms.

And the opening will have only begun.

Our Time Amongst the Goblins

2009-07-20T14:33:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we went with some of JDub's siblings to camp in Goblin Valley. We had a ball. What a fun, magical place! It was hot, but not nearly as hot as we had anticipated because of some good cloud cover and even some rain.

My early risers had a grand time playing in the morning. We went on a little hike and played in the dirt at our camp. I love how Scud is all arms and legs right now.

Kaitybean and Scud were fearless climbers. This shot does not give nearly enough perspective. They were really up there!

Here's me, goddess of the rain, in the actually Valley of Goblins. We were playing commando and I was, um, something. Basically the one who got to count and didn't have to run and climb all over.

Cute, fun people in a cave at the wall. Mashuga and Coco are on the left. JDub's brother and wife on the right and his youngest brother's fiance in the middle.

Happy, happy, happy...

JDub enjoyed his Vibram 5-finger shoes while here. Like being barefoot, except for the barefoot part.

A couple of cuties and a very pregnant weirdo.

By the time we were done, Rusty was EXHAUSTED! What this picture doesn't show is the major shaking the boys are getting as she pants and pants and pants. She was pretty hot. We gave her water while we were exploring but she still drank a good half gallon when we were done.

Rusty wasn't the only tired one. Though if you'd asked Coco at this moment whether or not he was tired, he would have said no. Ha! He slept soundly the entire 4+ hour ride home.

All in all a successful camping trip. I only had to walk the 50 yards or so to the bathrooms about 4 times during the night. Didn't sleep much. But, I don't sleep much at home these days. So might as well not sleep somewhere beautiful, eh?

Conversations With Coco

2009-07-15T15:34:00.000-07:00

Coco cracks me up lately.

Among other things, I love it how he always comes to me crying and blurts out "Daddy (or Kaitybean or Mashuga or Scud) day me NO!" Telling Coco no is one of the worst things you can possibly do to him.

He has also started experimenting with pitting mommy and daddy against each other.

Like today for instance. We got home from the library and he wouldn't get out of the car.

"Coco, it's time to get out and go inside," I told him.
"No. It not. I tay," he calmly replied.
"No, Coco. It's time to come in the house!"
"Daddy day me yes! I tay!"

Then, just a few minutes ago I sat him at the table with a bowl of ice cream (mainly because it is the only food we have left in our house right now). Moments later, I look over to see him flinging the ice cream across the table and on his chair.

"Coco! I gave you ice cream so you could eat it, not fling it around the kitchen!"

I promptly took it away and came back to the table with a washcloth.

Coco looked at me sheepishly and said very calmly, "Mommy day me no."
"That's right. I told you no. Is that because you made a wrong choice?"
"Um. Yes. I dorry. It be otay. You no be mad."

How could anyone possibly be mad after that?

I love this kid.

Read This. No, I'm Serious. Go read it now.

2009-07-15T15:29:00.000-07:00

I'm planning to have my list of books to read up by tomorrow.

Until then, you should read one woman's experience with reading some of these books, particularly Your Best Birth by Ricki Lake, Abby Epstein and Jacques Moritz.

I saw a lot of myself in her. (Except for the fact that she's hilariously irreverent in a way I could never dream of being.) But a lot of the change in ideas that have come on as I've taken the time to read and educate myself about birth are very similar.

Here's a quote:

"And then, oh God, the worst thing happened. And I didn't even see it coming, but I'm sitting there reading that book, gritting my teeth, shaking my head when all of a sudden it started to make sense. I started to see just how medicalized labor and birth have become in America AND THERE GOES MY WORLD VIEW.

Here's a link to the whole post: Dooce's Labor Story, Part One.

It's worth the read, if nothing else because she's so stinking funny and entertaining through the whole thing.

A Fantastic Website For Expectant Mothers

2009-07-13T13:01:00.000-07:00

Rixa at Stand and Deliver just posted a link to a FANTASTIC website for expectant mothers.

They cover Lamaze's 6 Healthy Birth Practices with videos and print materials:

1. Let labor begin on its own.
2. Walk, move around, and change positions throughout labor.
3. Bring a loved one, friend, or doula for continuous support.
4. Avoid interventions that are not medically necessary.
5. Avoid giving birth on your back, and follow your body’s urges to push.
6. Keep your baby with you—it’s best for you, your baby, and breastfeeding.

The website is Mother's Advocate. Definitely worth a visit if you're expecting a baby, will be soon or are just interested in learning more.

And I'm about ready to get started on my pregnancy and birth series, as promised, with a list of some of the very best birth and pregnancy books. Stay tuned!

His Promises Are Sure. Healing Comes.

2009-06-17T16:12:00.000-07:00

While searching for decent poetry material to share a couple of weeks ago for my poetry meeting, I found an interesting journal entry. It was a list titled "Moments I am grateful for in my life that I never thought I'd be grateful for..."

Number four on the list says this:

"The moment I lay on an ultrasound table, searching with my midwife for the flicker of a heartbeat and hearing the words: I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat. Surrendering to this experience tore me wide open. In the years since, gallons of years of unacknowledged grief have come spilling out of the hole created by that moment. Grace, compassion, gratitude and joy have come rushing in to the void."

Miscarriage was, for me, a heart-wrenching experience. At the time, I wrote this:

"It was a difficult truth to face. My baby’s beginnings of a body would not, could not be a recognizable embryo with legs and arms and face. She had barely begun to develop those characteristics when she died. She had stopped growing at around five weeks, even though my hope of her had not died for eight weeks, when I lay on an ultrasound table looking at her lifeless form. My hope that somehow my dates were wrong, that the ultrasound technician was wrong, that I’d misunderstood him hadn’t died until the day I sat in my bathtub, blood streaming from my body. And even after that day, I had still been growing her in my mind. I was nine and a half weeks pregnant, surely she had continued growing to be a nine and a half week embryo. Surely her body had stayed as safe and as whole as it was in my mind. She had grown in my mind not only as an embryo, but from a tiny newborn baby and then to a little girl with big blue eyes and bouncing curls.

I knew I had to stop growing her, to stop waiting for her, for she had not grown for nearly a month. Her spirit had been with me, was still with me, would continue to be with me. But the healthy, lively body in my imagination had flitted away to a bitter and amorphous reality. There would be no tangible evidence of the very whole and beautiful child I had lost."

I was talking to my sister, just a little bit, about this experience. I told her that I don't feel much grief over losing my baby anymore. I said that it was probably because I already had three children and have since been blessed with one (almost two) more.

But that is only partly true. Yes, my hands and heart are full to bursting with the blessing of these gorgeous children I am inexplicably privileged to raise. But really, the loss of that little one, so real only to me, is not really eased by the gift of my four other children any more than losing Coco would be eased by the fact that I still have Kaitybean and Scud and Mashuga.

So, I suppose that's the bad news. The crying tapers off. It gets easier. But every once in a while, there's still a little pain. Or at least the reminder of pain.

But the good news is found in Isaiah:

"To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness: that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified." Isaiah 61:3

"For the Lord shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody." Isaiah 51:3

"Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away." Isaiah 51:11

Words like these can be cold comfort during times of loss and sadness. But they are true, nonetheless. The Lord always gives more than is taken from us. The recompense is not always what we expect it to be, or when we expect it to be. But it always comes.

For me, it has come in the form of peace, a settled feeling that all is well and as it should be. When I think about that time, I just can't feel the pain as clearly anymore because it has been so deeply overcome by the joy, gladness, thanksgiving and praise that have filled that place.

There are many amazing, good, courageous women who have struggled with infertility and with miscarriage. It wouldn't be fair for me to say, from my one experience with loss, that I understand exactly how they feel. I don't. I hope and pray that comfort will come for them in the form of arms and hearts bursting with love for the children they get to raise. Even if it does, I hope even more that the sweet feeling of recompense that comes only from opening up to the love offered by the Savior and our Heavenly Father will bless them as deeply as it has blessed me.

Why?

2009-06-11T14:16:00.000-07:00

One of Coco's favorite words, lately is "Why?".

"Coco, time to get dressed."
"Why?"

"No, you can't have any candy right now."
"Why?"

Or if it's really serious...
"No, you can't play outside right now."
"Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!?"

Sometimes I answer him. Sometimes I give him more answer than he wants and that seems to be pretty effective. It goes like this:

"Coco, it's time to get pajamas on."
"Why?"
"Because it's bedtime."
"Why?"
"Because it's getting dark outside."
"Why?"
"Because the earth has been rotating all day and has now rotated to the point where the sun is going to be on the other side of the earth for a few hours. So now it's time for us to have nighttime and for children on the other side of the earth to wake up and play."
"Oh."

My absolute favorite "Why?" moment of the last week was a few days ago. I was putting him to bed and he was having a particularly hard time going to sleep. Daddy came in to help. I'd already told him his two favorite stories (three bears and three pigs). So Daddy came up with another story.

"Once upon a time there were three sharks..."
"Why?"

We laughed and laughed and laughed. And it took even longer for Coco to settle down and go to sleep. But it was so worth it.

Singin' In the Rain and Accostin' Pregnant Mamas

2009-06-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

Last night, JDub and I went to see Singin' In the Rain at the Hale Center Theatre with my parents, my sister and brother in law. It was SO much fun. I didn't know what to expect, since I'm a HUGE fan of the movie. I didn't want it to be too copycat. I didn't want it to stray too far. I was convinced that nobody could possibly play Cosmo as well as Donald O'Connor.

I was more than pleased with the production. Wow. It was just SO good. The dancing was incredible. There was real "rain" and we got very wet in the front row. The costumes were amazing. The guy who played Cosmo gave an EXQUISITE performance. He was hilarious and spot-on through the whole show. When it was finished, my cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much. All in all, a well spent night. Thanks mom for treating us all!

During intermission I had a little conversation with JDub. I determined that there are three things that are hard for me to watch: live theatre, live soccer and pregnant women. With all three, I just want so much to be involved and it takes some doing to just relax and enjoy.

Today I've been particularly thinking about the pregnant mama connection. Perhaps it's because I'm currently not doing any birth work, but every time I see a pregnant mom (especially one who looks like a first time mom), I just want to accost her. In a loving way, of course. :)

I want to ask every pregnant woman I see the following questions:

"Who is your care provider? Do you trust and feel comfortable with them and do you know about their intervention rates?"
"What childbirth books have you read? Can I give you a good list?"
"Have you taken or do you plan to take a GOOD childbirth preparation class?" (Typical hospital classes don't offer much more than VERY basic physical and consumer information.)

I just want every pregnant woman to have a positive, healthy pregnancy and birth based on the following criteria:

excellent, compassionate care from a provider who respects her body's ability to give birth and her desires and choices
true choice based on solid information, not scare-tactics or pressure from others
a wealth of resources to help her navigate the physical, social, emotional and cultural aspects of birth
a feeling of empowerment and the confidence to, at each moment, mindfully make the best decisions for her and her baby -- no matter what those decisions are

For many women, their first birth is not a positive experience. This makes me sad beyond words. I want all women to have the best experiences possible with birth.

Understand, that by "best" I have few definitions of what "type of birth" is best. The one thing I've learned over my last 6 years of birth work is that women know. When well cared for, well-informed and given the message that their bodies work, women inherently know what it is they need at each moment to birth their baby. It is different from woman to woman and from one birth to another. A peacefully accepted, necessary emergency cesarean. A drug-free home birth with music and candles. A hospital birth with a speedy epidural. When mindfully chosen, any of these scenarios can be positive birth experiences.

I find that knowledge, compassionate care, mindfulness and a sense of personal sovereignty have much more impact on how a woman feels about her birth than the actual physical circumstances of that birth.

So, I'm planning to write (and probably have a few guest posts) on enjoying pregnancy and preparing for birth. I hope they will be helpful and that everyone who reads here regularly will disseminate them to as many people as possible.

I have a few ideas of what I will be writing. But I'd like to know what you would like to see. What do you wish you had known with your first birth? What books, advice and preparation have been most helpful for you during pregnancy and birth?

It's 11:34am on the first day of summer break...

2009-06-01T10:34:00.000-07:00

So far we have:

Taken Kaitybean to sign her up (at the last minute) for summer orchestra, where we managed to get her the same district cello she used during the school year which is a really good thing because she left her rosin and book in the case. Whew!
Tried to sign up (at the last minute) for swimming lessons, but to no avail. For some reason they didn't have space for four children in four different levels at the same time on the first day of lessons. Who knew? (To my credit, I tried several times over the last few weeks to sign up over the phone, but never got through.)
Settled for signing up for swimming lessons beginning the first part of July.
Picked Kaitybean up from summer orchestra.
Filled the car with gas.
Sang several VERY LOUD and very silly songs on the way home.
Made up silly names for each other. My favorites: Billy Cheesestick, Mama Stromboli, Philly Baby, Eshkimo Pete.
Fought over a couple of random, half-full water bottles in the car.
Fought over a random beach ball Mashuga found in the car.
Argued about the correct wording of "Great Green Gobs of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts"
Stopped at IFA to price vermiculite, peat moss and compost. (HOLY CRAP, this square foot gardening thing can get expensive. Better pay off over the next few years.)
Eaten two bowls each of vanilla ice cream with caramel on top.
Watched about 20 movie trailers on the Apple TV
Cleaned up spilled ice cream. Twice.

All in all, a pretty good summer morning. Can I just say how incredibly, exhaustingly joyful it is to be the mother of four spirited kiddos.

All Finished

2009-06-01T10:12:00.001-07:00

Two Quilts, two Pillowcases and two VERY happy boys. Mashuga and Coco love their new quilts. Coco even (almost) slept in his own bed last night. :)

Here they are:

Look What I Did Today

2009-05-13T15:44:00.000-07:00

So, I was feeling like finishing some projects today. And I did!

First, a bag for my yoga mat. I usually just carry it and wanted something that I could just throw over my shoulder, mostly because I'm usually carrying a two year old as well.

Here are the pictures. On it's own and then modeled by the lovely Kaitybean (ignore the empty Dorito bag on the floor, will you please?).

I'm thinking of making more of these and selling them on etsy.

Then, I FINALLY finished the quilt tops for Mashuga and Coco's room. We redecorated their room a long time ago (years, I think) and it's taken me this long just to finish the quilt tops.

Here are the curtains they're meant to match:

And here are the two quilt tops:

I'm hoping to get them tied this weekend and finished by the end of next week.

Why I Love Kris Allen

2009-05-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

Cold Blooded @ Yahoo! Video

Honestly, Adam can SING. He can put on a show. He's amazing.

Kris, on the other hand, is a musician. This (along with SO many of his other performances) was brilliant. Anybody who can get up on a stage with just his guitar and his voice and make me feel THAT... Can't wait to buy a Kris Allen album.

As for Danny, well... Despite looking like a dorkier version of my adorable little brother, I just don't think he's all that great. Wish Allison were still in it.

Less Than One Hundred Days

2009-05-12T14:57:00.000-07:00

If you scroll to the bottom of this blog, you'll see that little baby Nacnud's due date is only 97 days away.

This is just an open note to let you all know that I am officially freaking out.

I'm gonna have 5 kids.

In about 97 days.

Letters Never Sent

2009-05-08T11:42:00.001-07:00

Or blips from blog posts never posted...

I've been going through the drafts on my blogs, the ones I've begun writing and never finished. Or opted not to post.

There's some interesting stuff here.

From Reflecting on Ten Years, written 7/14/06 in anticipation of my ten year high school reunion:

"I've often said that I'm not sure I liked myself back then and I'm not so sure I want to see people who remember me that way.

So, I've spent my adult years far away. I have grown into myself quite nicely over the last ten years. I am a joyful mother of children. I am a fierce, loving friend. I am a nurturer, a lover, a mentor, a teacher, a poet. I am rather at peace with the woman I've become. But, there's still an 18 year old girl in there who is hurting. Deep inside there is a girl who feels grossly inadequate, thoroughly misunderstood and completely betrayed. Despite anything I've told myself about either excitement or apprehension over seeing all of the other people in my graduating class, it's really that 18 year old girl that I'm not sure I'm ready to face right now. Because, despite all of the growth and successes I've found over the last 10 years, I still have no idea how to make it all better for her."

From a post awaiting a clever title, that I started on 1/25/07:

"There's a reason that I buy into the "sacredness of motherhood" bit. I trust God. I trust that when He says that motherhood is noble, sacred work that it is not just lip-service. I have no doubt that He respects me for what I do each day and will follow through on His promises.

To the rest of the world, however, I've found myself casting an evil eye. Because motherhood, womanhoood, childbirth -- anything distinctly woman -- has received little more respect and appreciation than the lip-service paid around mother's day.

The work that defines my existence, both personally and professionally is just not important."

From Hungry, 8/31/07:

"I love other people so deeply that it hurts at times, and yet I am never quite sure how to bridge the vast chasm that exists between two human beings.

In ways, the internet helps. With the time to think before I speak, to remove the masks and mannerisms and trappings of social interaction, I can more easily speak my truth. I can listen more fully, express my love and concern more unabashedly.

But then, these cold words so often fall short of the warmth of true intimacy. So I long for a face to look at, to see the eyes of another brighten and darken as we speak together. But then I find again that aching insecurity, a feeling of not being enough. Even among those I know well and love, the words that flow so easily from my fingers dry and crackle in my throat, unwilling to take the forms I bid them take. I choke on ideas, expressions that I meant to serve as sumptuous dinners for others. The love I feel, the gifts I want to give refuse to sound through my unpracticed voice, never rising above my breast."

From We Don't Need No Education, 9/8/07:

"If you skip too much school, you end up stupid. Period. "Getting in trouble with the authorities" just doesn't seem like a logical consequence to me. In my mind it undervalues education when the establishment uses force and threats to coerce students to go to school and to show up on time."

From Let's Face It, 8/27/08:

"I'm a home-schooler at heart. It goes against every instinct in my body to take my children to school and leave the shaping of their minds and hearts to strangers.

At the beginning of each school year my inner landscape is a war-zone. One part of me is highly suspicious of the compulsory government-monopoly school system as an evil, Orwellian institution. The other part of me gets giddy mid-August at the mere idea of buying school supplies and skipping off to Mrs. Castagno's class."

From Why I Think Marriage Matters, 11/31/08:

"Just over eleven years ago, I looked into the eyes of the man I loved and promised before God and loved ones to cherish him, care for him and give myself to him forever. It was an indescribable mix of joy and terror -- an earnest and meaningful commitment.

It was not political, not a simple merging of two households and fortunes. It was very tender. It was a leap of faith.

This is why marriage matters."

Apparently I've had a lot to say over the last couple of years, just not enough time to really finish saying it all. I felt compelled today to share these bits with you. Perhaps I'll finish and polish up a few of these and post them in their full forms.

Oh and Did I Mention How Cool You All Are?

2009-05-07T09:10:00.000-07:00

Thanks for playing along with my word verification obsession. I have laughed SO HARD over the last little while every time another gets posted.

And I've been getting an absurd amount of enjoyment out of reading them. It's like a whole new vocabulary.

Dentist, Drugs and Patriotism

2009-05-07T07:33:00.000-07:00

I don't think I've told you yet. Last week we found out that Mashuga had an abscessed tooth. Not as much fun as you might think. He was in massive pain last Tuesday evening, so we gave him ibuprofen and put a warm rice pack on his cheek. Oh and the other side of his head hurt too because he's been recovering from an outer ear infection. Again, not so very fun.

So, one emergency trip to the dentist, a serious course of antibiotics and a week later, it was time to have the offending tooth removed. Eeek!

Yesterday morning I got Kaitybean off to school. Then I took Scud and Coco over to my neighbor and friend, Emma's house. And Mashuga and I were off to the dentist.

Now, Mashuga has spent A LOT of stinking time at the dentist. For some reason, neither his teeth nor Coco's teeth developed properly while in the womb. They both had teeth come in with cavities already in place and enamel that was less than desirable. I'm really not sure that Mashuga has a tooth that has not had or does not currently have a cavity. He's always been exceedingly good for the dentist, but last time was AWFUL! Did I blog about how he screamed the WHOLE TIME and my mama heart just broke?

So, this time we opted for a Versed sedation. And it worked WONDERS. Just minutes after taking the medicine, he was curled up on my lap smiling a goofy, out-of-it smile and reaching for things that weren't there. In a moment of clarity he turned to face me and said "Mom, I think something's messing with my mind." We waited in the waiting room for another 15 minutes or so. All the while, he lay happily on the couch next to me, mumbling incoherently and teetering between sleep and awake.

We took him back to have his teeth worked on and he was a dream. Actually, I think he may have been dreaming. I heard him snore a couple of times. The dentist was able to fix EVERYTHING on the right side of his mouth (two root canals, two crowns, one simple cavity, an extraction and the placing of a space maintainer) without a single hitch. I took him out to the waiting room and laid him carefully on the couch to watch Ice Age. He only fell off twice while I was paying the nice receptionist an obscene sum (one that sounds a lot like whine hundert dollhairs) and negotiating times for his next appointment and the time for Coco to go in for general anesthesia and an overhaul of his cute little mouth.

On the way home I bought him a strawberry milkshake because he hadn't eaten anything all day and could only have soft foods. After this we proceeded to pick the other boys up from the babysitter, deposit a paycheck at the bank and pick up the other two kindergarteners in Mashuga's carpool.

About this time, Mashuga started "waking up". He was not a happy camper and the amnesiac properties of the Versed were very apparent. He kept asking things like "Why did they give me a sword balloon when I wanted a motorcycle?" ("Because you weren't coherent enough to tell us what you wanted.") and "How did we get here?" and "Why are we picking kids up from the school when we're supposed to be at the dentist?" and "Why does my mouth hurt?" and "What's all this stuff in my mouth?"

After a few hours he was back to his normal self and satisfied with my answers to all his questions about the morning's goings-on.

Then, last evening we went to the Hope of America Student Showcase to support Kaitybean, who was in the chorus. A few years ago, Kaitybean and Scud had the chance to be in the floor show with others from their charter school. We knew it would be a fiasco and a late night. So JDub stayed home with Coco (who clearly wouldn't have enjoyed sitting still that long) and Scud (who just didn't want to go). Mashuga and I went together to watch the show.

As it was last time, it was a bit of a fiasco. Less so with only two of us searching frantically for seats and such, but still quite interesting.

Some highlights:

Mashuga lost a shoe on our way across a VERY busy street. TWICE. And I had to brave the cars again to retrieve it. I'm so glad neither of us is dead.
Mashuga took his shoes off while we were waiting for the show to start and managed to kick the guy in front of us in the head. He turned his highly pierced and tattooed and very angry face to glare at Mashuga. Then he left and never came back.
At the end, we went to get Kaitybean from the designated spot and she wasn't there. Luckily, she and a friend just got a bit turned around and made it to the right place after a while.
While there, Mashuga informed me that his mouth was hurting. So, I pulled the ibuprofen out of my purse and ignored the sideways glances from our neighbors as I poured some for him.
I got to see my amazing friend Monica and her cute family while waiting for Kaitybean. I enjoyed talking to her for a minute. She always makes me feel very empowered, just because of who she is. Just her being Monica makes me happy and willing to keep trying to be a first-rate version of Heather.
Kaitybean was hyper and happy after it was over. She enjoyed the experience very much. And I liked it, too. Though it wasn't much different from the last one we attended. Still, it was very touching and patriotic.
Fighting traffic to get out was, as I expected, a fight. We took a side road and ended up in front of the Provo Temple. So, the three of us decided to stop there and enjoy the temple grounds and the fountains. It was wonderful to be there together and to talk to the children about the temple and to feel their excitement to go there and their love for that peaceful, beautiful place.

I returned home to find a very exhausted JDub, who clearly got the short end of the stick. It took him 2 1/2 hours to get Coco to sleep.

So we drugged and dentisted our 6 year old amd managed to survive another Hope of America with our 10 year old.

Next on our list of parenting to-dos: find solutions for Coco's sleep issues.

The Source of Swine Flu

2009-05-02T09:05:00.001-07:00

It was this kid!

My mom emailed me this picture a couple of days ago and I just had to share it.

Another interesting bit of information from our family about the swine flu...

A few days ago, Kaitybean came home from school and said, "Mom, I think the world's going to end soon."

"Why do you think that, Kaitybean?" I said, trying to take her seriously because I remember how mad it made me when people didn't take me seriously as a kid when I said stuff like that.

She looked at me with a somber face and said simply, "The swine flu."

I had a hard time not laughing, but held it in because I could tell she was truly, truly worried.

I explained to her how viruses are spread and how they work, how swine flu is both different from and the same as the flu that comes around every year. I explained that the odds of anyone she knows dying from it are very, very small.

Hopefully I reassured her. I hope, at least, that she was no longer worried that the swine flu would be the end of the world.

Is Kris Allen an 'American Idol' game-changer? Read on

2009-04-27T22:44:00.001-07:00

I'm loving Kris Allen this season of American Idol. He's good looking, humble, an amazing singer and performer and he loves his wife unabashedly. What's not to love. I'd love to see him in the Top 2. I'd love even more to see him win. But I don't think the Adam Lambert hype will let up enough for that.

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