I Really Have Some of the Cutest Kids Around

The other night, my mom took us out to celebrate after I had passed my program exit exam with flying colors. Well, naturally, the kids wanted to ride with my mom so we packed them up in my mom's Suzy and when Thomas put Aiden in the car, he told Aiden, "You be good for Grandma, okay?"

Well, we headed out - my mom back home with the kids while Thomas and I went to The Chocolate (amazing, by the way) for some dessert. Well, right as we were parting ways, we realized that we forgot someone with my mom so we flagged her down and pulled up next to her and we were talking to my mom, we see Aiden's little window roll down.

He then proceeds to poke his little head out, starts to wave his little finger and he looks right at me and says,

"Momma, you be good for Daddy, alright?!"

Kids crack me up. Especially now that Aiden is getting to the age that he knows how to act older.

Celia has also officially hit the age of being a little girl that loves to change her outfit.

17,483,903 times a day.

C'est la Vie

At the request of a dear friend from work, I must update my blog.

Life has been overwhelmingly ho-hum. I have started my capstone in the Women's Center at my local hospital (Hooray for not having to drive more than 5 minutes to get there!). Initially, it was just in Post-Partum... over night... with two part time nurses that get called off all the time. So! I worked my way over to Labor and Delivery, which is slightly more exciting. So far, I have completed 4 nights on Post Partum, and one on Labor and Delivery which makes a total of 5 out of my required 9. So. Stinking. Close. Only one more night on Post Partum and three more on Labor and Delivery and in a short (let's hope and pray) 11 days from now, I will be done with my capstone experience. And luckily, I will not have any more 24+ hour "days." Just a lot of switching my schedule back and forth in a matter of days between night Capstone and day classes.

meh.

I have gone back to being scheduled at work which, in short, is exhausting. I have been so disillusioned with working as a CNA at an Assisted Living Facility as I get closer and closer to becoming a nurse and getting certifications that will hopefully put my foot a little bit further in the door of Emergency Care - i.e. as far from Long-Term Care as possible.

That's not to say I don't have a deep and profound love for those of whom I take care. It's really incredible the love that develops when you serve others, even if it is in a setting where they are forced to accept per se due to handicaps and you are paid to provide.

School... well, I'm burned out, to say the least. Just trying to keep up with how I've been doing previous semesters so I don't blow all my hard work because I have an emotional break down. Or two.... or three.

ALSO! I've been called as a Relief Society Instructor. I have yet to teach, and hope I can buy time for two more Sundays. Only lesson I've learned is that Heavenly Father does have a sense of humor, but who am I to doubt if I can or cannot do it? Somebody out there thinks I can and if there is anything I've learned in the last 18 months is that I can do a whole heck of a lot more than I ever imagined and still be able to wake up and face the next day.

Also, this was birthday week. Thomas' birthday was on Tuesday and I had stinking Capstone that night so all we did was go out to lunch after Aiden went to a friend's birthday party. And Celia's birthday is tomorrow. Pictures will be posted. No promises that it'll be tomorrow.


Or even anytime in the near future.


P.S. You're welcome, Chantel. Hope it was worth it.

Montana. One of My Most Favorite Places. Ever.

This past weekend, I had one last getaway before school starts in Montana. It was absolutely fantastic. Good weather, good fun, good times with family - especially with family I hadn't seen in, literally, decades, and of course, whenever Thomas is around and has a new audience, the mandatory good food.

However, (every time I type/say/think "however," I hear my Dad's voice in my head saying, "However, comma." I have never known him to just say however in a conversation and finish his thought, he always actually says, and I quote, "However, comma, . . .")

Where was I? Oh, yes. However, there were hornets. And mean ones, to boot. Apparently in Superior, Montana this year, they have been bad and aggressive. Not just at the round house because no one was there to shoo them away, but just all around bad in the area. Within an hour of getting there, I was stung on the foot and Thomas scouted out a gigantic nest in the eaves of the house and killed it with two cans of wasp and hornet killer.

The next day, Thomas and Aiden were outside playing football and some hornets started swarming Thomas, so he ran in with Aiden and a few minutes later, Aiden started screaming and pulling at his leg because he was getting stung multiple times by a stinkin' hornet.

So we went on a Nest Hunt again. We knocked some down, Thomas was swarmed by some hornets again and ran off, lost his footing and did a cool, looked-like-it-was-on-purpose ninja roll and ended up bruising his ribs because he landed on a rock. Fantastic.

Then on Sunday, my nieces and nephews were playing Cops and Robbers, and my niece was stung, and then we went down to the river and my poor little girl was stung behind the ear.

Other than that, it was a great trip. Probably the best trip to Montana yet.

Today I Decided Life Will Forever and Always Be Insane

So to fill you in on the last 18 months of my life:

We moved from Florida in February, 2010.

May 24, 2010 I started nursing school.

Two days later, I started working as a CNA.

Five days later, my husband and I were rear-ended by a young, teenaged girl who was doing something on her phone. Myself and the kids were fine, but due to the position in which my husband was, he sustained nerve damage in his lower back.

And since then, life has been insane. Thomas stays at home and watches the kids while I work and go to school and try to squeeze in enough time with the family so that I don't fall asleep with exhaustion and guilt plaguing me on a daily basis.

School is fantastic. I am doing extremely well, many thanks to my Heavenly Father. On a continual basis, generally when I get emotionally drained, I have to remind myself that I have done what I thought was impossible and can hold on for another [           ] months. (Only four more months... only four more months..)

I am eternally grateful for my husband who has supported me and given me the strength and encouragement that I have needed when I am on the verge of losing it, and if I do get to the point of "lost it", he knows how to pick me back up.

Then comes some perspective. I think my life is hard, and it's easy to get down on myself and try to make people pity my situation and it seems that when I am on the search for someone to take pity upon me, I find something else entirely. I find a dear friend who is going through the same school process 300 miles from her husband. I find an old high school acquaintance who has a young child with health problems. I find single parents that are trying to do the best for their children while pursuing an education. I find someone who is trying to better their life and, due to a momentary lapse of judgement, needs to put their life on hold for the time being. I find a loving and doting husband of decades, visiting his sick wife on a daily basis, knowing that days are limited.

And they are holding up far better than I think I could. They are holding up admirally.

So life may always be insane in one way or another but I have found within the past few months, I am capable of so much more than I ever thought possible and if/when I begin to lax in that thinking, I have the most incredible people around me to lift me up and support me.


P.S. Today I also decided that I will blog more often. We'll see how that goes.

Random Thoughts for a Random Day

I haven't blogged in a while and since I have a bunch of stuff has happened.

My son turned 2. That's incredible. We still haven't had his birthday party. We were going to have it on the Saturday after his birthday, but my husband left on a last minute trip to South Florida to buy us a van (which is the coolest van ever!!) So we post-poned it for the following Saturday, but everyone was sick, so now it will be this Saturday and it's going to be a combination party for him, myself and Nana Faller.

We have a new van that is the coolest! I love it. I wish I could find my camera to take pictures of it and brag to everyone else about how my van is cooler than all the other vans out there, but alas, I am still without a camera. Maybe me losing my camera is Heavenly Father's way of keeping me humble.

I don't know how my mom did it, but 4 out of 5 of her children eat vegetables (Way to ruin a perfect statistic, Dennie). I remember growing up and being excited when we had spinach or beets with dinner. I remember the best part of Sunday Dinner (pot roast, mashed potatoes and some sort of vegetable side) was when she made green beans with bacon on top. I hope somehow that super power was sent to me and I can make my children love vegetables. I think I'm off to a good start because my two year old son will eat more vegetables than his father, but his father doesn't like corn, sweet peas or other fall-back-because-who-in-the-world-doesn't-like-these vegetables, so it's not hard to eat more vegetables than him. He has tried to pass of the fake chives in Top Ramen as a vegetable before. He will eat lima beans (yuck. city.) and asparagus though. I know, it makes no sense.

I still hate moving.

We apparently aren't supposed to have a Yard Sale before we move. One Saturday we were sick with an insane cold snap that froze the iguanas out of trees. Next time it rained and rained and rained and rained. Then we were sick with congestion and fevers. Then it rained and rained and rained and rained again. So we are 0-4 on possible Yard Sale Saturdays with only three left. This next one my husband is working so I'll be at it alone for most of the time. The next one we are probably going down to Palm Beach to visit his brother's family one last time before we leave and the last Saturday is two days before I move and the day I pick up the moving van, so not the most convenient of days. I really hope we sell a lot this Saturday or else I think we'll be moving stuff with us and selling it out in Utah.

I promise I will blog more when I am past all this moving nonsense. Until then, just bear with me.

My house has a blackhole

Let's call it Aiden, ya know, just for kicks. This blackhole has swallowed my DVD remote, rendering my husband's X Box a glorified DVD player for most of the day. It has swallowed some of my favorite not-maternity clothes. It has even swallowed about half of my left shoes, but one thing I'm super perturbed about is that it has taken in my camera. I keep telling myself that they will turn up, but that'll probably be when I pack up my house and that's not much of a consolation because I really dislike packing.

Since this "blackhole" has taken in my camera and misplaced it, I had to rely on my sister in-law's camera to take pictures for Christmas and I have yet to see them, hence the absence of a Christmas post.

It was wonderful, by the way. Aiden took time to play with each and every toy, which made it well worth the while.

So I'm just going to publish my Christmas post on Little Christmas and say I was planning on doing that the entire time.

New Year's Resolutions

I've been thinking long and hard about what I want to accomplish this upcoming year other than the ubiquitous goal of being a better mother, wife and spiritual person and I think I have it narrowed down to a few attainable things:

I wish I could say I am going to lose 25 lbs by the end of the year, but it seems that the only way I can do that is to get pregnant, gain 20-50 lbs and then lose it in the following months and then be at a stand still about five pounds under pre-pregnancy weight. So, I'm just going to say that I'm not going to gain any weight and if I lose some, then bonus. So it looks like 2010 will be a pregnant-me-less year.

I am going to eat healthier... Right after I eat all my clearanced after-Christmas candy we splurged on.
...
And I don't think that will include the after Valentines Day chocolate, either.

I will potty train Aiden. Does this even count as a New Year's Resolution? Aren't those supposed to be something that you do to better yourself? I'm sure this counts because smelling his poopy diapers up close and personal on a daily basis can't be good for my health.

I will pack my house up before the last week before we move, minus essentials, of course. I hate moving. A lot. I moved once the entire time I grew up, and I was 6 so it doesn't really count. I didn't do anything to pack. The only thing I remember around that time in my life has nothing to do with boxes and packing tape and moving trucks, but instead my dog being ran over by a car, being excited about my first plane ride and being terribly upset that I was missing my Christmas Concert at school. Really, why couldn't we have moved our entire family a week later so I could sing with my other classmates for 20 minutes? That's not irrational, 6 year-old mind reasoning at all.
But anyway. I moved when I was 6 and that doesn't really count as having to deal with the moving process, but then when I was 19, that was across country from New Mexico to Florida and that was a process.... And again when I was 20, not across country, but I had "grown-up" stuff that made it a process that was moved in the back of my brother in-law's pick-up truck, load after load after load ..... And then again when I was 21.... And then when I was 23, with a 14 month old and 7 weeks vomiting-pregnant.... And now again when I will be 24, across country, from Florida to Utah, with two children and my husband staying behind for an extra month or so. I hope I won't have to move again for a while after this one because I'm tired of it.

But onto the most important ones:

I resolve that I will not be so desperate for the lime-light that I will pretend my son is caught in a homemade balloon that is drifting away.

I resolve to keep my threats away from the "shove a ball down your throat" path.

I resolve to not be, in any way, shape or form, like Kanye West.

I resolve to keep my congratulational gestures to hand shaking when it comes to blind people. That way my high-five won't be left hanging.... on national television... on one of the most watched shows.

I resolve this year that I will not marry someone, have twins with them, try for just one more and end up with six more and drive them so crazy by my constant nagging and stupid hair cut that they are driven to cheat on me with someone way younger just months after renewing our vows and telling the world that you are doing this so your children will know that Mommy and Daddy will always be together, no matter what.

I resolve to only fly US Airways through a flock of birds if Chesley B. Sullenburger III is my pilot.

I resolve to keep being a homebody instead of turning myself into a famous golfer that then cheats on their spouse with more than a baker's dozen of women.

I resolve to not take fertility drugs and end up pregnant with 8 babies.... especially if I already have 6 at home.

I resolve that when I win a record number of gold medals at the Olympics, I will not find myself in a huge controversy because a picture of me smoking pot surfaced.


I resolve to never help Drew Peterson with anything. Especially anything that involves disposing of blue barrels.

I resolve to stay home instead of flying on any commercial airplane if I have tuberculosis.

I resolve to not help a pimp and prostitute in their endeavors to open an under-aged brothel.

I resolve to leave the biggest carbon footprint possible, now that we know that Global Warming isn't real.

And last but certainly not the least:

I resolve that if I find myself attending a Midnight Mass with the Pope, I will not attack him because no matter who you are, or what you believe, that cannot be a good thing.

Seriously, how could you see this and think, "I'm going to attack that man."

Hope 2010 brings you all the best!!

Notice how I didn't mention anything about Michael Jackson? That's how it should be...

My children have colds and I hate it.

For those of you who have read Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt, remember the part when his father had to suck the mucous out of the little boy's nose (for the life of me I can't remember if it was Frank McCourt or his brother) using his own mouth because the boy couldn't breath from being so congested?

Well, when I first read that part, I was so disgusted and said I would never be able to do that and that I was glad I lived in a day and age when there are nose aspirators and saline spray. Never did it cross my 15 year old mind that those things wouldn't work. What happens when that doesn't work?! Oh, how having a baby changes things.

This morning I was about ten seconds away from doing that myself with my two and a half month old daughter and then she threw up because she was gagging on the post nasal drip and the most incredible amount of mucous came out with it. My hand was covered in it and once relief washed over me, all I could think of was Men in Black when Tommy Lee Jones is inside the cockroach at the end and shoots the cockroach from the inside and the mucous blasts out all over Will Smith.

Just so you know, I am not a bad mother. I had been using the nasal aspirator all night long, it just was going back down her throat so it wasn't as effective as it could have been. It's the pits when you can't do anything for them and you had to hear their little tiny body coughing. I'm sure you can imagine how many prayers I said last night.

I Believe in Santa Clause

Is it Santa Claus or Santa Clause? I can't remember! But that is besides the point.

Recently my husband has had two very separate conversations with two very separate people that could not have more opposite mindsets when it comes to politics, religion, and family. Yet, they came to the same conclusion: They aren't comfortable teaching their children about Santa Clause.

One is in the far left as far as politics goes, is atheist or agnostic, at best and doesn't feel that marriage is a sacred covenant but instead just a piece of paper. He feels that to teach your children about Santa Clause is a bold faced lie and nothing more and that it will be detrimental to the child's upbringing when they find out their parents lied to them for years on end until they were old enough to find out for themselves that Santa isn't real.

The other is far right as far as politics goes, is a devout Christian and feels that marriage is a sacred covenant to be taken seriously and to be upheld. He feels that to teach your children about Santa Clause is taking away from the true meaning of Christmas and that it is commercialism gone awry and trying to take Christ out of Christmas.

Given the two options, I have to say I relate more to the latter, but not entirely.

I feel that you can teach that Santa is the Spirit of Christmas personified. How do you explain to a two year old the true meaning of Christmas? How do you make them understand that this is a time to remember all that we have and because we have so much, we should share of our love, time and in some cases, our means, to better mankind? What better way than to tell them of Santa Clause and how he comes in the middle of the night, not to receive glory, to leave presents anonymously under the tree for each and every person so they can put a face, a name, to what we all feel inside? Then when the times comes that they find out Santa Clause isn't "real", they can truly understand that he is real in the spirit of what Christmas truly is about. Love and giving of ourselves, which is what Jesus Christ did throughout His entire life.

Santa Clause loves little children, Santa Clause is happy, Santa Clause brings great and wonderful gifts much like Jesus Christ loves little children, is happy and brings the world's greatest and most wonderful gifts known to mankind.

So you can say that at my ripe old age of 23, I still believe in Santa Clause and I hope my children never stop believing, either.

Merry Christmas!

Random Thoughts for a Random Day

I love Christmastime. When I see Christmas decorations go up for sale in the stores before Halloween, it takes all I have to wait for Thanksgiving to put up my tree.

On a similar note, I think I am going to make it a tradition to put the Christmas Tree up for Family Home Evening the Monday before Thanksgiving and every ornament we put up, we have to name something we are thankful for. That way I can get my tree up earlier, tie in the two holidays and keep Christmas from stealing Thanksgiving's thunder.

I don't know if it's just me, but dead batteries feel lighter and more hollow than brand new batteries. I wonder if it is actually that way, or if I am just making it all up.

Recently my husband and I have had separate conversations with our mothers about memories we have of things that happened when we were younger and when we actually found out when it happened, it's when we were like two or three years old. Realizing this, and seeing as how my son is almost two years old, the things he remembers now or soon, he could potentially remember for the rest of his life. Which makes me think; what things am I doing now that I want to change before my son remembers me doing it? Do I want him to remember me sitting at the computer on Facebook while he is eating breakfast? Is that really such a big deal? I haven't decided yet.

I'm going to be moving across country in a few months. Any suggestions on how to keep a two year old and a four month old occupied for a possibly four day trip? Especially if I move out there before my husband to go to school.

It is so heartwarming to see my son try to be like his Daddy. He will stand next to him and prop his foot up and then check to make sure he's doing it just right. He will pretend to shave. He will act tough and speak with a booming voice. But my favorite is when he drinks his milk from a soda can, pretend to belch and then say "smee me" (excuse me) in a really sheepish way.

Two Months Old

I have officially joined the ranks of "Can you belive my child is already _____ old?!" With my son I felt every second of his growing up because I was growing every second of it as well. I was a first-time stay-at-home mom and was overwhelmed, baby blued, awestruck and so happy all at once. Every thing he did was a huge accomplishment on my part, as if I had something to do with it. So when people would talk about how fast he was growing, I knew that to them, it was amazing how fast he was growing, but I saw him every second of the day and two months felt like two months.

Not this time around.

My daughter sleeps like an angel which gives me a lot of time to play with my son and read blogs... I mean, do stuff around my house. When Monday came around and it was time for her two month check up, I was truly amazed that two months have come and gone already. Definitely put things into perspective since I will be moving in two months, give or ... well, just give a little.

She is growing fantastically. She was 23" long - 85th percentile and weighed 11 lbs 13.2 ounces which is about the 75th percentile. I am slowly realizing how dainty my little girl is, if 75th percentile is dainty in the real world. In this family, it is the daintiest of the daintiest. She was 15 days early and my son was 9 days late. She was 8 lbs at birth, my son was 9 lbs 13 oz. She was 11 lbs 13.2 ounces at two months, my son was 12 lbs 1 ounce at two weeks.

I love having a little girl. I have gone a little crazy lately buying headbands and the such for her and I've looked at buying patterns to make little girl booties and repurposed sweater dresses and the sort. (I just happened upon this blog and fell in love immediately: makeitandloveit.blogspot.com) I made her a tutu to go with her Halloween costume. I look forward to being able to paint her nails. The girly girl in me is coming out with her. I was never one to paint my nails or do my hair in any way other than a ponytail, every once in a while I'd go crazy and put it in a french braid but now I am just waiting for the day when I can sit and style her hair. I love playing with my son. I love wrestling with him and talking in monster voices with him, but I really think I am going to love accessorizing with my daughter. Anyone who knows me must think I'm kinda crazy hearing all this stuff because rarely do I even wear jewelery other than my wedding and CTR ring, but I am itching for her to be old enough to want to be a princess and play dress-up.
For all I know, she will be exactly like me when I was growing up and watch Batman and Ninja Turtles and hope the bad guy wins. And if she does watch the girly Disney movies like Cinderella and The Little Mermaid, she'll only do it to make fun of it.

My Life As I Know It Is Over..

Aiden has figured out that the zippers on his toys work the same as all zippers. No longer am I able to zip up my purse and not have to worry about my checks, debit cards, sunglasses, etc. being strewn all over the place.

Nothing is safe anymore... My sanity included.

But on the good side: I have found a place to put my purse that is out of reach of Aiden and now I am forced to put it there. So no longer will I be running around the house trying to find my purse when I was supposed to be out the door five minutes ago. Maybe this will be a good thing.

Appointments for Celia

She had her one month check up last Wednesday. She weighed 10 lb 1 oz - 75% and was 22 inches long - 90%. She is doing wonderfully. She's very alert and has started to follow objects around the room and she has started to smile! Hooray! I love the first smiles when she's still trying to figure it all out.
We were having trouble nursing on the right side, so I came back today to see the Nursing Guru of the pediatrician office. Apparently she has a high palate which causes her to lose suction and make a clicking sound. The Nurse Practitioner told me that the best way to stop this is to feed her upside down. I am supposed to lie down and have her stomach in front of my face and feed her like that. We'll see how well that goes with a son that loves to help. I have a feeling I'll only use that during nap and at night. I'm not too worried about her intake seeing as how in the past five days she has gained 9 ounces. It just hurts on my end of things but that will heal in time.

It's funny what is said in the middle of a C-Section

I figured when I had my C-section with my son, it was just a funny happenstance that they were talking about weird things that were completely and utterly unrelated to them cutting my abdomen open, but after going through a second one, and having listened to another completely unrelated to the procedure conversation, I guess it's more common than one would think. I guess if you do it all the time, you can talk about other things while stitching one's uterus.

With my son, I listened to conversations about:
The Daytona 500

People who had puked while getting a C-section

My son being the Miami Dolphins next Linebacker (He was a big baby.)

and lastly, the numerous jokes that my anesthesiologist was making which I, regrettaly, can't remember the majority of due to the drugs I was on. Stupid Demerol.



But I would have to say the comments made during my daugher's C-section takes the cake.

They talked about cooties. My doctor was recently pulled over and he kept trying to hit on her, but his name was Sgt. Cootie and she said that no matter how enamored she could be with him, she couldn't bring herself to be Dr. Cootie.

She talked about how it was so hard to stitch up floppy skin. (Thanks, Dr. Greene)

But the best part was what she was singing while the nurses counted off the instruments. During surgery, every five or ten minutes, the nurses have to count off the instruments to make sure they are all accounted for and while she was rambling off "Scalpel: one, two, three, four, five. Clamps: one, two, three, four, five in use, six in use..." so on and so on, my doctor was singing this:

No longer tongue-tied!

Celia got her tongue clipped yesterday. It was real quick. She didn't cry any harder than if she were hungry or gassy and only bled for about an hour. Nursing doesn't seem to bother her and it feels better on my end, as far as I can tell from a few feedings and the pain doesn't seem to bother her because she doesn't cry more than normal and she slept through the night like normal last night.
She keeps sticking her tongue out which looks funny to me because she hasn't been able to do that before today and she is doing it all the time.
I'm glad we did it, despite the doctor not using any pain killers. Just a pair of scizzors and snip, snip, snip she was clipped.

Halloween!

This year was a total cop out again, but much to my pleasure, my son had no idea he was missing out.

Friday night we went to our ward's Trunk-or-Treat where Aiden ran around like a maniac dressed up as a nerd (his underlying costume clothing was super nerdy, but you weren't supposed to see that because he was supposed to be stoked to wear his costume... that didn't happen) and Cecilia was adored by the other mommies in the ward. My goal with her costume was to try to get as many people bit by the baby bug as possible. :) Actually, we thought it would be funny if she were a frog and then a few weeks later I realized that with just the costume, people would think she was a boy, so I added a flower to the cap of the costume and made a little frilly tutu, and voila! She was worthy of inducing bites by the baby bug.

Saturday we stayed at home because we are actually in a place that people will come to your house to trick or treat, my husband was working to keep all the bad guys off the streets and I was stuck nursing every hour or two. Granted my mom could have taken Aiden out but that is just full of downsides. One, she could have gotten lost because she doesn't know the area very well, two, I would have missed Aiden's first Trick or Treating, and three, there would have been that time that I would have to nurse and kids would be at the door. Now in this situation, I could do one of two things: I could ignore them and not answer the door, but you can see my nursing chair from the front door, so they would know someone was home and then I'd be that person, or two, I would answer the door while nursing and somehow I don't think the parents of the children would appreciate that too much.

Good thing Aiden had no idea what he was missing. He thought it was great when someone would ring the door bell, making the dog bark and then to answer the door only to see a group of crazy kids there. Then we'd pass out the candy, and he'd yell goodbye and slam the door shut. He loved it! Ignorance is truly bliss.

So there we go. I don't think we will be able to get out of next year, but really, who wants to? Halloween was one of my favorite holidays growing up with all the fretting over what you were going to wear and then the preparation, the chance to wear make-up before I was allowed and not get in trouble for it going around the neighborhood multiple times, making sure to hit the jackpot houses time and time again and then the diligent sorting of the candy afterwards.

I can't wait!

Now feast yourselves on the cuteness of my children in their costumes:
This was the underlying clothing of Aiden's SpongeBob costume. The part you weren't supposed to see.


Cecilia as a girly, frilly frog. I definitely think I'm going to like girls costumes. They're fun.


And my masterpiece: Aiden's homemade SpongeBob costume!! I think it's adorable, even if you can't get a good look at it because he is smooshing it up.

Happy Birth Day, Little Lady!

Our sweet daughter made her first appearance Wednesday, 7 October 2009.
Monday before I started having a lot of Braxton-Hicks and that evening we went over to Thomas' brother's house to have dinner and while I was cooking, the contractions went from just tightening of my stomach muscles to front to back cramping. They continued throughout the night and in the morning they were 15-25 minutes apart, lasting anywhere between 30 and 50 seconds. I called my midwife and she said that since they were still that far apart, and I had an appointment that afternoon at 3.00, just to wait until the appointment, unless they get closer. After lunchtime, we decided that we were going to drop Aiden off at Robbie and Michelle's and Thomas would go with me to the appointment in case they wanted me to stay and monitor me for a little bit. With all the running around of getting a nursing bra, just in case, and dropping Aiden off, my contractions jumped to 7-10 minutes apart.
At my appointment, I was taken back, and had an internal. She said that I definitely had dropped and I was effaced, but hadn't dilated any, but she would talk to the doctor to see what they thought was best. A few minutes later, she comes back into the room and tells us to go to the hospital because I will be having a C-section in two and a half hours.
We rush over to the hospital and get dressed in the flowy gown, we take a "last day pregnant" picture and Thomas gives me a blessing that everything would go well with the delivery and that Mommy and baby would be safe.
We get all ready, and then the nurse comes in and tells us that the doctor called and decided we would have the C-section performed in the morning, instead of that night. She wasn't sure of the reason behind this because she wasn't there when the doctor called, but I suspect it was so it'd be easier to monitor me if I did, in fact, have placenta accreta and have a lot of hemorrhaging. I'd rather be monitored during the day by more nurses and doctors than through the night when staff is at a minimum. So the longest night ever started.
The bed was terrible and plastic and hot. I was strapped up to lots of monitors and couldn't really fidget as much as I wanted and/or needed because it would make the monitors stop working. At 5 a.m. I gave up trying to sleep and just started getting ready for the day.
We got ready and they took me back to the Operating Room. Most everything went fine during the surgery. I threw up, which was a hard and difficult thing to do. I had no stomach muscles to push it out, so it kind of just dripped out of my mouth and down the side of my face the first time. After that, I spit it into the little bowl Thomas was holding for me, but some of it overshot the bowl and got all over Thomas' hand. Oh, the things you do for love.
While they were cutting me open, Cecilia's head was pressed up right against the uterine wall, and they cut her head a little bit. It was very superficial and stopped bleeding with just the pressure of gauze and the little hat's babies get from the hospital.
Afterwards, they took me back to the recovery room and I was able to hold Celia and nurse her right away. She latched on immediately and we were on our way.
The rest of our hospital stay went by fairly quickly. I was in much better shape this C-section than last and was even able to walk to my new room just 12 hours after surgery. It was slow going, but I did it.
I am so grateful our little girl is here and I am excited to finally be able to get to know the person who so tormented me from inside for the past eight and a half months.

It's Good, Momma, I Promise!

There is no doubt in my mind that my son is 100%, absolutely, through and through all boy. He is disgusting and dirty and a dork all at once.

Never when I make a nice meal does he eat it and say, "Mmmmm, Good!" Or rather, to spell it phonetically correct with his 20 month old accent, "Ummm, goo-eh!" It's always when he is eating the dog's food or drinking milk that's been sitting in his sippy cup all day long that he saves the "Mmmm, Good!" declaration.

Tonight, another one reached the ranks of the "Mmmm, Good!" Hall of Fame. We have seasonal allergies and along with those come funny boogers. The boogers that you can't really blow but drive you crazy all day long. I understand that sometimes with funny boogers you have no choice but to pick your nose, especially when you are a disgusting, dirty, dorky little boy that just found out that your finger is a perfect fit in your nostril. So he was picking his nose and after getting a big, honking booger out of his nose, he proceeded to try to eat it. I stopped him and told him it was yucky and as I was trying to wipe it off the tip of his finger he pops it into his mouth with lightning speed and declares that it is "Mmmm, Good!" I tried to tell him it was yucky, yucky, yucky but he just kept trying to tell me that it was good.

Well, tonight as I was putting him to bed, we read our scripture stories, turned out the lights and then said our prayers and then while I was singing him a song, he was using the darkness of his room to pick and lick his boogers because he said "Mmmm, Good!" one more time and then tried to shove a booger into my mouth. Apparently, I am missing out on something amazing in this world, and it is his mission to open up my eyes.

At least he was trying to share.

Say Please, Zelda!

The other day I was in the living room folding laundry and Aiden was driving me crazy with his "helping" so I sent him away. He went into the kitchen and I heard him rummaging through there and I thought to myself, "Good, he's getting himself some snacks, that'll keep him occupied for a little bit."
Then I heard him saying "pweease" over and over and I wondered why he would be doing that if he were feeding himself.
I turned the corner and I found him sitting in his high chair eating crackers, but holding one right in front of Zelda saying "pweease" and when she would go to eat it, he'd pull it back and say "pweease" again but in a more serious tone.

He was trying to make her say please before she could have a cracker.

Sweet Whisperings of the Spirit

I love my sweet little son. I especially love how aware and sensitive he is becoming to things of a spiritual nature. The other day he was playing with his toy cars, making them vroom and go fast across the room and he stops playing, stands up, folds his arms and bows his head, mumbles for a few seconds then says, "'men!" and continues playing. He did this about 10 times in a 5 minute span. It is amazing to me that at such a young age, he can recognize those things.
Also, he has become a big fan of pictures of Jesus. Every night I read him scripture stories and right now we are in the New Testament. Every time he sees a picture of Jesus (there's like 2 on every page, at least) he will point to it and say "Jesus!!" well, it comes out more like "Gee-ya" and then proceed to tickle Him. Apparently, Jesus is ticklish. :) He will also point out pictures of Jesus as we are walking through church or if he sees the one we have hanging in our house.
It makes my heart swell to see his precious spirit coming out and I am so grateful I am blessed with such a wonderful child. It absolutely makes up for the irrational terrible two tantrums that have started to rear its ugly head.