Pet Peeves

I've been stewing over that obnoxious phone call from last Friday and I've been thinking of my other pet peeves besides RPWINDNLs (see May 26th's entry).

So I've made a list. I'm not a pessimist, but for some reason making this list was quite liberating.
Here we go.

• Gossips. It's really none of your business, so don't share it.
• Loud eaters. If you can't keep your mouth closed when you chew, don't put anything in it in the first place. (Hey, it kind of goes hand in hand with #1.)
  
• Sinks with short faucet necks. I can't stand washing my hands and not having enough space to thoroughly lather/rinse. I'd rather not bang up my knuckles on the back of the sink. Petty, I know.
• RPWINDNLs. Again, see May 26.
• Hypocrites, Vandals, Telemarketers & Bullies. I'm pretty sure these people are on everyone's list.
• Chronic tardiness. Being late once in a while happens, but come on.
• Ignorance. No, this doesn't mean rude (a common misconception among certain people/cultures), but goes along with #1, too; don't talk about it unless you know about it.
  
• Summer television. All the really good TV is now a rerun.
• My metabolism. I overshot my weight goal this pregnancy by 10 lbs and Olivia didn't come out weighing the whopping 17 lbs like I had assumed ... go figure.
  
• Clutter. Ugh.
  

Oh boy, that felt good. I'm sure I have more, but these are the only ones I can think of right now and quite frankly, it would make me sad to think I had a really long list.

Please feel free to add your own. It's nice to let it all out.

I'll be sure to get around to making a "things I love" list so you don't think I'm sitting here feeling bitter towards the world. It probably won't start out with 'girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes,' though that movie (and any other R&H production) is likely to be on that list.

PB & ... S?

For so long, when I've made a peanut-butter sandwich for Emmy, she's always preferred honey instead of jam/jelly. And until recently, I thought she was calling the honey jar "pooh" because it's in the shape of a bear and I thought she assumed it was Winnie the Pooh. I thought she was saying, "I want peanut butter and some pooh."

I was wrong.

Emmy's shampoo looks exactly like honey. This whole time she's been asking for "Peanut Butter and Shampoo" sandwiches. This came after a bath-time revelation. I can't convince her that it's called honey. I'm really afraid that one day she's going to confuse the two. I don't want her eating shampoo any time soon and I sure don't want to try and get honey out of her hair, either. Until that day, it's pretty cute.

Less Frazzled

Thanks to our good friends Cara and Gordon in PC*, we have become a little less worried about the situation. Cara and Gordon's second child, little Elle, also tested positive for this condition. I know, your thinking, "can't be that rare of a condition if you actually know someone that has it." Elle was the only child in Utah that tested positive that year.

I've spent plenty of time researching this, but after a phone call today from Gordon, I feel much better. The fact that Olivia didn't need hospitalized within the first few days of life with serious jaundice-like symptoms means she has at least a few enzymes that had the ability to break down the galactose from my milk. She still may have a less serious version of the disease called duarte (I'm trying to simplify this). This won't require a special diet or cause any of the learning disabilities that the classic galacotsemia would cause.

I do love how the state called me on Friday at 3pm AND on Memorial Day Weekend, no less.

We're still praying that this is all just a false positive and Olivia is just fine. My new worries now are: will she come back to me?

Jeez, I thought a clogged tear duct was obnoxious. I love perspective. And because of this new found perspective, I'm counting my blessings that this is the only thing (so far - knock on wood) we're dealing with in our house when it comes to health concerns. Just like the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence ... the grass could be dried up and sparse, too. For now, this little weed of an issue can be dealt with. Enough with the yard metaphors. I'm going to go feed my baby.

Ugly News

Yesterday I received a rather disturbing phone call. This is how it went:

Random Person Whom I Now Do Not Like (RPWINDNL): Hi, we got your child's blood tests back and one of them came back abnormal.
Me: What does that mean?
RPWINDNL: Your daughter tested positive for galactosemia.
Me: What does that mean?
RPWINDNL: It means that you need to stop breast feeding your baby and put her on soy formula. You should also have her retested.
Me: Why is that? Wait, what does she have?
RPWINDNL: She tested positive for galactosemia.
Me: Can you spell that for me? and what does that mean?
RPWINDNL: She can't digest milk products.
Me: Like lactose intolerance?
RPWINDNL: No, it's much more serious than that. If you continue to breast feed, it could cause mental retardation.
Me: Uhh, okay.
CLICK.

So, for the next two weeks (until her second test comes back), I'm pumping and freezing while feeding her soy formula. It's less than pleasant. This condition is pretty rare. Because of Steven and my genetics, we would be more likely to win the lottery than one of our chidren having this condition. The one thing we have going for us is that first tests often result in false positives. Let's all keep our fingers crossed for little Livvy. But for the next two weeks, I, like any other mom, will worry anyway.

Wordless Wednesday

Pink Pearls

Let it Flow

I have a little counter.
If you scroll down a bit you'll see it under WHO'S INTERESTED? over there on the right-hand side. The website that I use to help me count my visitors sends me an update every once in a while to give me a few stats on my blog. My last statistic informed me I average 74 visits daily. Hmm, that's funny because only an average of 5 or 6 of you comment. I had no idea that many people were reading my blog. Why don't you let me know you're reading my blog?
It's not like you don't know how to type. You certainly found this website without a problem. Use those lovely fingers of yours and let your thoughts flow. Go on, it's therapeutic.

Oversized Heart

I'm posing a question that has been posed to me by one of my most cherished blog readers. I'll protect the innocent by changing his name to ... ahem, let's see ... Juan (wink, wink).

How can you love more than one child?

Juan doesn't think it's possible.
To be honest, when I first was pregnant, I wasn't sure either. Then Bradley came and I giggled at the thought of not being able to love him enough.
Then when I became pregnant with Emmy, similar thoughts entered my mind. "Am I going to be able to love her as much as I love Bradley?"
I had the audacity to question my heart's ability with this third pregnancy. One of my biggest worries came when we decided to not find out the gender. There was only one person who told me that not finding out the gender would be a mistake; I would have a hard time bonding with the baby, she told me. (everyone else supported the idea of being surprised). That thought re-entered my mind after birth when we still hadn't decided on a name. I was worried that I wasn't bonding quickly enough with Olivia.
Here's what I've learned in these past few days about love and my heart's willingness to grow as our family does.

• It's that little turtle-like tongue that sticks out of her mouth when she's yawning.
• It's those freakishly long fingers that roam aimlessly when she stretches.
• It's that unending dependence on me.
• It's those still-skinny legs that kick when she's not bundled up like a burrito.
• It's her love of being bundled up like a burrito.
• It's her smacking lips at the onset of hunger.
• It's the way my other children watch and dote over their new little sister.
• It's her soft cries during her sponge bath.
• It's knowing where this precious treasure just came from.

Here is a mere smidgen of the hundreds of things that make me love her automatically. Yes, Juan, it is possible to love more than one child. And if you believe that, believe this:

the love grows and multiplies indefinitely.

I'm Here!

So much for a countdown.

My contractions had begun at about 5 pm on the 15th but were very irregular and some were much less extreme than others. The "real" ones were about 20 minutes apart. But I still wasn't totally sure if I was truly in labor and I really didn't want to be sent home from the hospital. So I rested and they sort of slowed. An hour and a half later I walked around, and they picked back up. I was in labor.

Steven's parents pulled into our drive way at 8 pm (after getting a little lost on the VERY confusing TX roads - they all have about 3 different names around here). By then, the contractions were about 10 minutes apart.

We showed them around the house, grabbed my overnight bag and we were at the hospital by 9 pm.

Four hours later ... at 12:54 am

We had a



21 inch long



8 lb



Beautiful baby...




GIRL!

Please allow me to introduce:

Olivia Kay

Almost a 7 pounder


Bradley deciding the name of the baby.
We gave him two options and he didn't hesitate a bit.

Proud big sister

LOOK AT ALL MY HAIR!

The boys are now out numbered!

But Who's Counting?

I have 39 hours and 40 minutes until I get induced. I've never been an induction sort of gal, but I just can't help myself.
My favorite parent-in-laws are getting here in 5 hours and 20 minutes to help me with ... well, everything.

...and...

I'm about 2 minutes away from a nap.

Consignment

I'm a sucker for consignment stores (which occasionally stems to craigslist and ebay). When I was pregnant with my first, I was such a snob when it came to consignment stores. I just HAD to have everything new and pristine for my little baby. Now that I realize that kids go through their clothes/toys/shoes/etc all too quickly, I've learned that these stores are treasures. They usually carry great namebrands and they only take things that are in great condition. Obviously I draw the line at certain items, but for most things, this is a great way to get "new-to-me" stuff.

Hurray for "gently used" items sold to moi at a great discount!

To Marmees Everywhere

Ever since I read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, I've referred to my mother as my very own marmee. After my long list of books on my last entry, I forgot to mention that I'm reading I am a Mother by Jane Clayson Johnson. It's an empowering book meant to uplift mothers everywhere who answer the question: "What do you do for a living?" I often answer: "Oh, I just stay at home with my kids" as if I should be saying, "well, nothing really." That is not the answer I should be giving....at least not in the attitude I answer.
Over 60 years ago, J. Reuben Clark called motherhood "the highest, holiest service...assumed by mankind." I'll be the first to say it doesn't always feel like that. I've worked on and off after we began our family and it's always much harder to feel "productive" as a mother trying to keep up with mundane, everyday duties than someone who's bringing home a paycheck. But this book is making me take a different look at myself. In The Women of God, Neal Maxwell said,

"When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sound of lullabies? The great armistices made by military men or the peace-making of women in homes and in neighborhoods? Will what happened in cradles and kitchens prove to be more controlling than what happened in congresses?"

I surely hope so.
Sometimes the praise is hollow. Sometimes it seems like it is merely covering up a quick dismissal of this "career path". But as I tuck the monkeys into bed and think of the legacy of women that has been left before me, I realize the importance of my job. I only pray that I and mothers around the world can proudly answer: "I'm a mom!"
Here's to my marmee and those other marmees that influenced the people in my life. I thank you and hope I can live up to the legacy you began and left behind.

Book Review

I've been reading a whole lot lately. Sadly, I'm just reading to be reading. I haven't been following any suggestions from anyone (though I have noted Lori and Tara's blogs), I've just been picking up books from authors I've never read with the attempt to broaden my vision of authors and possibly find someone new. So in the past 6 weeks, I've read the following:

• Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
• Envy by Sandra Brown
• Secret Sanction by Brian Haig
• "P" is for Peril by Sue Grafton
• Summer Island by Kristen Hannah
• The Incumbent by Brian McGrory

And this is what I think:

Peace Like a River was actually a recommendation from my last book club. I didn't get a chance to read it for the book club, but I have since and I really enjoyed it. I would recommend it to anyone. But go ahead and "make of that what you will."

Envy was okay. A romantic suspense novel that was a little too predictable, but had it's intriguing moments and was a good way to pass time.

Secret Sanction was very good. It's a military/law book about an army lawyer who investigates a mass murder in the middle east. It keeps you guessing how it would end. I had a hard time following Mid-East politics, but that soon passed.

"P" is for Peril was pretty lame. The author has an entire series of books that goes through the alphabet starting with "A" is for Alibi. I haven't read the others. They were written in the 80's, so I kept getting angry at the protagonist for not using her cell phone when she was in trouble.

Summer Island was even lamer and terribly predictable. Maybe I'm a cynic and just can't handle cheesy romance novels anymore. I only read it because I it was in my house.

The Incumbent was very fun to read. Kind of a Tom Clancy feel. Based in D.C. with lots of whodunit going on. A journalist gets caught in the middle of his own story just as he's been asked to be the next White House press secretary during the upcoming election. Very good.

I'm in the middle of A Mulligan for Bobby Jobe by Bob Cullen. I'll let you know how it goes.

*I should note that a few of these were out of a Reader's Digest Select Editions. If they were edited for both length as well as content, I don't know. I'm not sure how they decide what to edit. If you pick up the real thing and it's vulgar or distasteful, I SO sorry.

If you have some good, entertaining books, I'd love to hear about them. I really need to find a book club around here. The city has one, but I hesitate because I have no idea who's picking the books and what their standards are. I know, I should start one, but it's just not in my game plan at this moment. Give me a month, and I'll be all over it. Until then, you need to make recommendations to me until the "Best Book Club Ever" is born. Do you think I'll get my own sticker on my recommended books like Oprah does? Hmmm, for some reason, I doubt it.

Happy Summer Reading!

Randomness

I got this idea from Kristen. Here are random facts about me that few if any know:

• My ears are not - nor ever been - pierced. (Neither has any other part of my body.)
• I hate it when people touch my collar bone and the under sides of my wrists, elbows and knees - it's mostly a tendon-adversity thing....weird.
• I've never [purposely] broken a bone. (I had a bone broken during surgery to correct a growth problem)
• I can survive a sugar-free diet.
• At nineteen, I was told I would never have children.
• I've presented my writings at a national conference.
• My only driving ticket is from an illegal lane change. I had fallen asleep at the wheel and rolled my car on the freeway and that was the only reasonable ticket the officer think of giving.
• I'm surprisingly willing to do anything with my hair - cut, dye, you name it.
• My weight is my biggest (pardon the pun) vice.
• I still seriously consider adopting.
• On a dare, I just recently submitted a children's book for publishing.
• When I was pregnant with Bradley, I bought a violin, learned how to play, and performed publicly....all on a whim. It was over a 4 month time span.
  
• I can't sleep without a body pillow to hug.
• I hate clutter.
• 
• I've never been a nail-biter...I find it one of the nastier habits. That doesn't mean I don't have my own terrible habits.
• I've never been able to pin down my eye color. There's blue, green, AND brown in them.

I'm sure there are more that I'm just not thinking of. I'm sure those of you who can think of them will be all to quick to comment and add the ones that you know. Feel free.....well, except for John.

Not So Wordless Wednesday

I've decided to get in on this Wordless Wendesday action. Some days I just don't have that much to say and this will give me (and quite frankly, all of you) a break.

Here's some pics of us with the locals.

There's nothin' like a field of blue bonnets everywhere you look.

Happy Helpers

I've combined my current conditions:

The need to clean and the need to relax.

I'm letting my children do it.
Since the house is as clean as it can get, we moved on to other projects.
You can't very well bring a newborn home in a dirty car.

Emmy enjoying the suds.

Bradley "managing" the hose.

Oh, I love my monkeys.

Call CPS if you will, but they had a ball.

Gratitude Up the Wazoo

Seriously, I can't help but be so happy right now.
We are all healthy.
We have shelter over our heads.
We have plenty of food.
We have loving family and friends - not to mention loving strangers - thanks to our church family.
We have money (not loans) to live off of.
We have each other.

If you've never read the children's book Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig, it's a must read. It's about a donkey who finds a pebble that will grant him any wish as long as he is holding it. He finds himself face to face with a lion and wishes himself into a rock. Now without hands, he's unable to wish himself back. The rest of the book is about his parent's search for him.
The moral of the story comes at the end. You'll have to read to find out, then you'll know what I'm talking about.

My moral is: hold on to what you already have and be grateful for it.

Still Kickin'

I'm still pregnant, though the lack of blogging may have people thinking otherwise. But I think I have bruised ribs to prove this one's going to be a fighter.
I've just been busy nesting: packing the hospital bag, touch-up painting, feeling exhausted, and cleaning everything in sight. Why isn't it ever clean enough when you're pregnant?
Anyway, here's a couple of rather pathetic pictures of the inside of our house. We're still moving and rearranging furniture and art to it's "ideal" location.
A somewhat small kitchen. But compared to our galley kitchen in the apartment (where we could spread our arms and touch the cupboards on both sides of the kitchen), this is gourmet-esque.My newest addition. What a great birthday surprise, Ste. Thanks! I've never had anything to rock my baby to sleep in. I can't wait. I hope what they say about microfiber being easy to clean is true.
I know, totally boring. Give me time. Oh, and money.

The nursery/guest bedroom. Looking pretty masculine. If it's a girl, some things will definitely change - mostly the guest bed's bedding.
Until next time. I swear I'll do better. These long pauses between blogs are getting people too excited for no reason.