In case you feel the need to cry today

This video will just make it happen for you. Just another example of how very good people are.



Happy Weekend to you!

People are Good

(Sorry for the delayed post. We had a fabulous Family Reunion/Chad's Homecoming in California last weekend--see pictures here--and then Jeremy had a conference in Provo Tuesday through Thursday. For some reason it didn't occur to me that he would need to take the computer until late Monday night. And then, well, it was too late to get a post up. So here I am on Friday.  Hooray for Fridays!!)

I am feeling sentimental today. I feel blessed and loved and filled to capacity. People are so good. So kind and generous. Although it might sound bad, it never ceases to surprise me.

I got three packages in the mail today with bundles of little lady fabrics in reds and pinks, yellows and greens.They were sent from a friend who (I'm guessing) did some trading on etsy to have them sent to me.  I wanted to cry.  I don't deserve such generosity. I promise, I don't.

Speaking of generosity, my sister also gave me a whole box of her "cast off" (but good!) fabrics while I was home last weekend. It was way more than I was expecting. I don't know what to do with all the sewing possibilities opening up in front of me.

And just this week I won a giveaway of $50 to CNS stores. It means I'm going to get to buy a much wanted  and longed for baby sling for totting the little lady around this winter. I didn't have my hopes up that I'd get one, but now I will. Such an unexpected and delightful surprise.

We've been on a tight budget lately, but we have also been extraordinarily watched out for and taken care of in more ways than I've even touched on here. I tell you, I don't deserve such generosity.  I can't quite figure out why life is so good to me sometimes. But I am grateful.  Thank you for being such good people. So generous and thoughtful and kind. It makes me want to be better, to give more, to do more. I am certain that I do not do enough, but I want to do more. I'm determined to be better, kinder, more thoughtful. Thank you for your examples.

Ready to Bust This Joint

Raymond has been waking up much closer to 6am of late (rather than his oh-so-late 6:30), and the routine has quickly become: get up, greet smiling, happy boy, change diaper, sit on the front steps and enjoy the only pleasant time of the whole stinkin-hot day.

6am folks. By 8am (at the very latest) the sun has come over the top of the house across the way and our apartment is a heat bath. I mean hot. Deathly hot. I want to die hot.

Ok, so I'm being melodramatic.

But let me just tell you it's hot. And our air conditioning units are only in the bedrooms (which does NOTHING for the living room or kitchen) and VERY expensive. Thus, we use fans. And let's be honest, they just blow the hot air into our faces. I can't decide if it's much better or not.

But there is a ray of hope on our horizon.

The sweet and refreshing mid-70s of Southern California. Where we will be by tomorrow night. Oh sweet California, we're coming!!  (Ok, and ALL my family... I'm excited to see you too!)

I'm even (call me crazy) looking forward to the trip because it means I'll be in an air-conditioned car the whole time. I've stooped that low. I just must not be made for 100 degree weather. Let me just say I have mentally crossed all the Arizona and Las Vegas Law schools off our list. Sorry folks.

I'm also looking forward to our drive so that I can stop worrying about what trip food to take. I just might have (I'm not kidding) lost sleep over this the last few days. Because, you see, we're on a tight food budget. And Jeremy is a big eat-while-driving driver. And it's a longish trip (7 hours without stops! The longest we've taken with Raymond yet). I have a meticulous menu planned that will hopefully keep us from buying neon gummy worms at gas stations and won't break the bank (I tell ya, I'm excited for the day those fall Pell Grants make it to the bank account and life isn't so stressful). Here's what I have planned:

• batch of no-bake cookies (yum)
• homemade wheat thins and sliced cheese  (I can muster the courage to turn on the oven)
• smashed chickpea salad sandwiches on pitas
• PB and J for RayJ
• bag of (store bought) pretzels (Raymond's favorites)
• a few yogurts for Jeremy and Raymond (yogurt makes me gag)
• bananas
• (maybe) some homemade chewy soft pretzels with cream cheese
• some leftover sunflower seeds from the last trip
• jolly ranchers (the trick to keeping me awake)
• bag of red vines (maybe) as they are a classic for road trips

I'm hoping I have all our bases covered with sweet, salty, filling, and munchy. Any other suggestions that fit the criteria of cheap, easy, and (semi) healthy?? What do you take to munch on road trips??

Freshly Pressed

I just poked my head out my door (too much quiet can be suspicious) and Raymond was quietly pushing the iron around the living room. Ironing the carpet. A boy after my own heart.

Then he staggeringly brought it to me. I think it took all the muscles he has to lift that sucker. Good thing he doesn't have enough strength to unplug this here computer (much to his consternation). Isn't it funny what will entertain a one-year-old?

On a side note, the iron was sitting in our living room because yesterday and today I've volunteered to teach a beginning sewing class through our local 4-H chapter (which happens to be in the office where Jeremy works).  That would be a group of 8-10 year olds and me. Teaching them how to sew.

(Yes, I do still consider myself a beginner. I just might have a hard time saying no. I can sew straight lines though. Right? And I can turn the thing on. Right? I can do this. Right?)

Yesterday we (thankfully) only had five of the nine(!) kiddos show up. It didn't go half bad despite my sleepless anxiety. And four out of five even finished their very basic drawstring bag. That was a relief.

Today I'm gearing myself up for a full class though. But I know a little better what I'm doing. The trick, I think, is getting them to thread their own machines. We spent at least a half hour loading bobbins and threading machines. I made them each do each process five + times. Today it might be ten.

But I must say, there are few things happier than a little girl (with a darling blonde bob) skipping around the room declaring her love for the little bag she made all herself. Saying over and over, "it's all mine; I did all the sewing myself!"

19 Weeks 2 days

Last Wednesday (the 7th) our (one and only) computer got a virus. Since we're not high-tech-super-computer-savvy folk, we did what made the most sense to us: we immediately packed it up (it's a laptop) and took it to the local computer fixing people.

And then we waited for the phone call saying to come and pick it up, good as new.

One day, two days, three days... no such luck. We called, and they still hadn't even gotten to it yet. Seriously. We debated just going to pick it up and try and fix it ourselves.  But reason prevailed and we waited.

A whole solid week later, it was done.

It was a learning experience week for me. I discovered that I like having the internet at the tip of my fingers. I like keep track of all of you bloggers out there. I like access to my email and pandora. I also discovered that I can survive without a computer... for a short period of time. And that the computer is a significant distraction when it comes to down time in my day. I sometimes just didn't know what to do with myself (which also has to do with the fact that I'm in a book-funk. Just don't know what to read next).

Anyhow, since getting it back, I've been making up for all the blog posts I wrote in my head in the meantime. I hope you won't get too used to the daily postings... because chances are I won't keep them up.

But in the meantime I thought I might try to be a little bit more consistent about posting pregnancy pictures than I was with my last pregnancy. Of course most of them will be taken on my phone (and thus be terribly low quality). And I don't even aspire to doing it weekly (which would probably get old anyway).

But here's a start:

Obviously I'm looking a lot more pregnant earlier on than I did with Raymond. But at least I'm moving out of the belly roll stage and into more of a baby bump. That's happy. Also happy is all the little pin prickings I feel more of as the little lady moves around. Love it.

And that should be enough pregnancy/maternity/baby posts for at least as week.

A few thoughts on labor and delivery

Before getting pregnant the first time, I had never really given much thought to natural childbirth. My mom had epidurals. My sisters had epidurals. My mother-in-law wished she could have had the option of epidurals. In the back of my mind I assumed I would join the epidural club. It was pretty much a non-issue for me at that point.

But once I was pregnant and reading books on the subject and actually thinking about what I envisioned when I was in that L&D room, I knew pretty early on, that pain medication of that sort was not for me. I actually felt sick to my stomach when I thought about them putting that needle in my back. And I felt anxious and frustrated at the prospect of having so little control over what was going on. I literally had nightmares about it.

But I must say, this doesn’t change the way I feel about other people choosing to do an epidural. I have NO PROBLEM with other women deciding they want pain medication during labor and delivery. You have my respect and my support. I don’t think a natural childbirth is more honorable or any of that kind of junk. The important thing (for me) is that each woman has the experience she chooses to have. And, after all, what really matters is that mother and baby are alive, healthy, and well when all is said and done.

I see this as one of those intensely personal decisions.

I think it’s super important that the mother feels good about the choices she makes in labor and delivery. Some women go natural the first time, and have an epidural the second. Some do an epidural the first time, and go natural from there on out. Some women go one way and stick with it every time. Some women give birth in bathtubs or their own beds. Some women don’t have much choice and have to do a C-section.  And some women plan to get an epidural but are forced to go natural for one reason or another. (As far as I can tell that’s the absolute worst way to go natural.)

With my first baby, I didn’t tell anyone I was going to go natural (unless they asked) because I just did not want anyone (especially all those women in my family whom I admire and respect) to think I looked down on their choice in any way. And of those I did talk to about it, most of them were adamantly opposed to the idea. Even Jeremy took some time warming up (although he was 110% supportive as soon as he saw how important it was to me). I also didn’t want to deal with more criticism than I had to.

For the record: I gave birth in a hospital with a doctor. I don’t think I’ll ever even consider doing a water birth or a home birth. I am going to a midwife this time around, even though my last doctor was fantastic. But my midwife’s office is in the hospital, and I will again give birth in the hospital.

There are a few reasons why natural birth is important to me. They might not be important to you, and that’s ok. Or the cost just might outweigh the benefits for you. That’s ok too. Please don’t take anything I have to say as a judgment on you or your power to choose.

I like to be in control. And more than anything else, it is important to me to be in control of the things that I can control. I hate the idea that I might not be able to feel what is going on to my body during a crucial experience like giving birth. I’ve heard mothers who opted for an epidural describing birth as surreal or as feeling  detached. There is nothing I want to feel more attached or present for than one of my children entering mortality. I want to be part of it. I want to consciously channel those contractions to do what they are meant to do. I don’t want the doctor having to tell me when to push; I want to know with every fiber of my being that the time is now.

Before becoming pregnant I had never been to the hospital for myself. No stitches. No appendicitis. No broken bones. No nothing. I had not experienced much physical pain up to that point in my life. But there were a few things that made me confident that I would be able to handle the pain of labor and delivery. Most importantly, I have a testimony that women are made for this. It is part of our make up, our callings, our purpose. Our bodies instinctively know what to do. Yes, women throughout history have died from this process. Yet thousands and millions of others have not. They handled it. Eve, alone and without precedence, handled it. I knew (I knew), going in, I could handle it. I was mentally prepared for it.  The pain of labor isn’t arbitrary or pointless. I was confident that I could surrender to it and focus it.

I needed to prove to myself and to God what I am capable of.

And yes, indeed, it was long, it required endurance, and it was painful. I screamed (just once) when I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t scream. I wanted to despair when the process dragged on and my body stopped progressing. But I did not. I focused, I prayed, I held onto the hope of that little body meeting mortality.

For me, labor (the hours of contractions) was much easier (I use that term loosely) than I anticipated, and delivery (the hours of pushing) was much more difficult than I anticipated. The entire process sucked me dry. I was beyond exhausted and spent when my first sweet baby boy was placed in my arms. And yet I have never been more alert, aware, or present than at that moment.

It was beautiful and empowering and a testimony that “trailing clouds of glory did [he] come”.

Of course every mother can have such beautiful moments with their newly birthed babies no matter how or where that baby is born.  But I am grateful for the soul stretching experience I was given with my sweet boy. I am profoundly grateful for the things I learned during the process of pregnancy, labor, and delivery. And I look forward to the moment when my little girl will be placed in my arms.

 I know, I know, I'm only half way there. I'm just one of those crazy people who reads about and thinks about these things the whole 40 weeks, I guess.

Sugar and spice and everything nice.

Does that stack of fabric make you as happy as it makes me? Mmmm, I could gobble it up.

And do you know what it means?

There's a little lady making her way to this house in December who needs some sewing done just for her.

What do you suggest?

We had an absolutely lovely Forth of July weekend in Blanding. So lovely that I didn't once take my camera out of my suitcase. Rest assured that others were snapping pictures right and left (that may make an appearance here eventually) and that we were decked out in red, white, and blue just about the whole weekend. Good times, good food, good company. Couldn't have been better.

But I must say that the coming and going of the trip could definitely have been better.

Raymond, in his short 13 months of life, has proven to be a TERRIBLE traveler. I mean, won't sleep for six hours, but instead will cry, whine, fuss, and fidget. Yesterday's drive home was rough. Rough, I tell ya.

And we're doing an even longer drive in about two weeks. Yikes.

So far, we've tried watching movies (our new car, unbeknown to us beforehand, has a DVD player). We've tried starting the trip right before a nap (so he'll be tired and (cross your fingers) go right to sleep... doesn't usually work). Or starting the trip right after a long nap (which just means we then give up all hope of him sleeping).

We've tried handing him pretzel after pretzel (after pretzel) for hours to keep him occupied. Usually someone sits back by him and hands him his toys as he chucks them to the ground over and over and over.

We usually end up stopping way more than we want to in order to let him get out and stretch his little legs. But, man, I want to just plow though sometimes. But the crying... it gets to ya.

Anyhow, all you wise and experienced mamas out there... what do you do with your one year old to keep him happy in the car for 6+ hours at a time? I really really want to know what you've found that works for your kiddos.

Pretty please.

Or do I just have too high of expectations? Do I just need to come to grips with the fact that driving with kids in long, laborious, and loud? Tell it to me straight. I can handle it. I think.

Rock a bye baby

For all of Raymond's short life, I have rocked him to sleep. Up until a month ago, this was connected with nursing him to sleep. But always in the rocker, always in a semi-dark room, and often humming.

Now that I don't nurse him before laying him down, I still swaddle him (I know, I know, he's a year already. But he likes it.) under the arms, nestle his head into the crook of my arm, sing, and rock.

On busy days I sing only one or two songs before putting him in his crib. On slow quiet days I sing four or five. Long and slow and low.

He's always been a wiggler, kicking and sitting up and readjusting himself into a more comfortable position (hence the need for swaddling), but I know he likes it as much as I do. He's funny about it too. He won't let me look at him (or he'll push my face away obstinately if I try), and he won't let me stop singing while rocking (or he'll cry or wiggle loose until I start up again).

I love this stage of rocking my baby before putting him to bed. I forget how fast it will pass. In a few months or years he will be too long, too big, too independent. I think he will always like to be tucked in tight, but I wonder for how long he will let me hold him in my arms and sing Stay Awake or My Heavenly Father Loves Me over and over and over?

Three times a day we under go this sacred little ritual--morning, afternoon, and evening.  Three calm, quiet times each day. And I am grateful that he is still a baby who lets me sing him to sleep.