As always, today is a somber day, remembering the 9/11 terrorist attacks.
This morning I attended a women's Bible study at our church (it was the first day of this particular Bible study, a 9-week Beth Moore series about 1 and 2 Thessalonians). As an ice-breaker, we quickly took turns recounting our personal experiences of 9/11/01; no one will ever forget exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news.
It was especially interesting to hear the stories from people who were in the DC-area (which was most of the women in the room) at the time of the attacks. We live quite close to The Pentagon, and many people could feel their homes or offices shake when the plane hit. It's hard for me to imagine being so close to the site of any of the attacks. Looking back, I was sheltered from fear and feelings of imminent danger that day, perhaps because my home in Humble, TX was thousands of miles from the closest attack, and probably mostly because my school did not deviate from its normal routine. I didn't know much about the Twin Towers as a high school senior, so, although I knew things were bad, I didn't immediately grasp the magnitude of lives lost and how such terrorism would launch a war.
It is hard to believe that we are 13 years removed from 9/11/01. Those hijacked planes instantly changed us as a nation. This anniversary will hopefully continue to serve as a compass of sorts, guiding us as Americans to carry out our important role as a great and God-fearing nation in this world. May we never let a September 11th pass without commemorating the atrocities that cost thousands of American lives; may we never forget.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Since I'm on a roll...
...why not see if I can post every day in September?
Remember the series of photos of Lorelei dancing? I've taken many a good series of her lately (in my opinion). Here are two more:
I was trying to capture a good picture of her in her LSU dress to send to my dad, but I didn't want her to make a crazy picture face. Having her talk is pretty much the only way she won't make such a face. Here she is giving me a long, complicated explanation of who knows what:
And here's another series. Chet and I were both busy trying to get us all out the door to go somewhere, so he gave Bubby to Lorelei to "babysit" (she was watching "Go, Diego, Go" at the time).
At first she seemed excited about her task (as was Bubby):
Then she remembered she was watching a show, but she was still fairly engaged in her job since she was holding his foot (which I thought was kind of adorable):
The show must have gotten more interesting, because she needed to direct the foot-holding attention back to the TV:
Fully immersed in the show again (Bubby doesn't seem to mind being abandoned by his babysitter though):
Ford realized there was a show on TV, and this picture makes it look like I'm letting them watch "The Shining" or something, based on their matching semi-horrified expressions:
I can't believe the little stinker is going to be 3-years old next month.
And here is a picture of Syd, for good measure:
Happy Wednesday! Syd and Lor start school tomorrow!
Remember the series of photos of Lorelei dancing? I've taken many a good series of her lately (in my opinion). Here are two more:
I was trying to capture a good picture of her in her LSU dress to send to my dad, but I didn't want her to make a crazy picture face. Having her talk is pretty much the only way she won't make such a face. Here she is giving me a long, complicated explanation of who knows what:
 |
| Listening to my "talking prompt" |
And here's another series. Chet and I were both busy trying to get us all out the door to go somewhere, so he gave Bubby to Lorelei to "babysit" (she was watching "Go, Diego, Go" at the time).
At first she seemed excited about her task (as was Bubby):
Then she remembered she was watching a show, but she was still fairly engaged in her job since she was holding his foot (which I thought was kind of adorable):
The show must have gotten more interesting, because she needed to direct the foot-holding attention back to the TV:
Fully immersed in the show again (Bubby doesn't seem to mind being abandoned by his babysitter though):
Ford realized there was a show on TV, and this picture makes it look like I'm letting them watch "The Shining" or something, based on their matching semi-horrified expressions:
I can't believe the little stinker is going to be 3-years old next month.
And here is a picture of Syd, for good measure:
Happy Wednesday! Syd and Lor start school tomorrow!
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
In which she eats her own words...
Remember all that fashion mumbo jumbo I spouted off yesterday? All of it went out the window today when I didn't even attempt to deny the girls' requests to wear bathing suits out in public. (Lorelei often makes such ridiculous requests; Sydney knows better, but also knows when to ride her sister's coattails.)
(They seemed embarrassed once we were actually out in public. Not.)
Why, yes, Lorelei. You may wear a watermelon bathing suit and a summer skirt.
Why not, Sydney? Go ahead and wear that Hello Kitty tankini top with those pink gaucho pants.
In our defense, I think September 2nd has been the hottest day of 2014. And the only item on today's agenda was to make a return at Target.
Thankfully Bubby kept us from completely ruining our image by wearing a season-neutral Superman onesie.
Ragamuffins, I tell you.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Welcome, September!
I don't know about you, but I am thrilled each year when September 1st rolls around. So long, August -- you are the LONGEST month of the year (to me). In my opinion, August's only redeeming quality is that our oldest nephew has an August birthday, and even that is hard for us to fully appreciate because we rarely get to see him on his special day. And even though September is usually just as hot as August, I am at least filled with hope that cool weather is just around the corner (even when I have to wait until November for said cooler weather -- although I don't think I'll have to wait that long this year now that we live in Virginia).
September 1st is doubly good this year, because it is also Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer. (Happy Labor Day, by the way!) This means that I can immediately say "Sayonara!" to summer and begin embracing all things pumpkin (on years when Labor Day is a few days after September 1st, I feel like summer is simply overstaying its welcome). FYI, I am super old-fashioned, and refuse to wear white jeans and carry white purses or wear white pumps (none of which I actually own) after Labor Day (or before Easter). Even though those antiquated fashion rules are basically obsolete these days, I continue to adhere to them, and make sure that the rest of my family also adheres (Chet is sad to put away his white jeans each year...kidding!). I think this makes me a bit of a fashion snob, which is laughable because my fashion sense is quite limited, but I sleep better at night knowing that all of the summery clothes are folded safely away in diaper boxes, and that my children's closets are mostly filled with dark, muted colors.
I promise I won't judge you if you continue to wear your white jeans though -- it only proves that you have more fashion sense than I do, and that you are probably a more flexible, change-embracing person in general.
Also, God forbid we end up getting stationed in southern California or Hawaii or Guam someday. I may have to flush my own rules down the commode in that scenario.
On that note (not really), here is a series of photos of Lorelei dancing. We have been having dance parties in the living room lately, because it's the easiest way to get energy out, and it thoroughly entertains Bubby. Lorelei really gets into the dancing, and her unbridled passion pretty much mirrors the way I feel about the beginning of September:
And this is Bubby watching:
It is great entertainment for all.
Happy September!
September 1st is doubly good this year, because it is also Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer. (Happy Labor Day, by the way!) This means that I can immediately say "Sayonara!" to summer and begin embracing all things pumpkin (on years when Labor Day is a few days after September 1st, I feel like summer is simply overstaying its welcome). FYI, I am super old-fashioned, and refuse to wear white jeans and carry white purses or wear white pumps (none of which I actually own) after Labor Day (or before Easter). Even though those antiquated fashion rules are basically obsolete these days, I continue to adhere to them, and make sure that the rest of my family also adheres (Chet is sad to put away his white jeans each year...kidding!). I think this makes me a bit of a fashion snob, which is laughable because my fashion sense is quite limited, but I sleep better at night knowing that all of the summery clothes are folded safely away in diaper boxes, and that my children's closets are mostly filled with dark, muted colors.
I promise I won't judge you if you continue to wear your white jeans though -- it only proves that you have more fashion sense than I do, and that you are probably a more flexible, change-embracing person in general.
Also, God forbid we end up getting stationed in southern California or Hawaii or Guam someday. I may have to flush my own rules down the commode in that scenario.
On that note (not really), here is a series of photos of Lorelei dancing. We have been having dance parties in the living room lately, because it's the easiest way to get energy out, and it thoroughly entertains Bubby. Lorelei really gets into the dancing, and her unbridled passion pretty much mirrors the way I feel about the beginning of September:
Happy September!
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Ford's Birth Story: Part 2
You can read the first installment of Ford's birth story here.
I can't believe I've waited until he's almost 8-months old to continue this story...better late than never!
FYI, this portion of Ford's birth story is going to be mostly about the girls' births, both of which helped shape my "plan" for baby number three's birth.
The epidural began working quickly, and my dad showed up (at this point it was about 6:00 a.m. on October 17th). He drove in the night before, because I called him earlier in the day and foreshadowed that Lorelei would be born in the next couple of days. It was fun to have an extra loved one around. I'm not one of those people who can "relax" or sleep while in labor (even with an epidural), so it was nice to have an extra person to chat with.
At this point, the only thing I was worried about was pushing for two hours, like I did with Sydney. Even though it was painless (thanks to the epidural), it was still exhausting. I had high hopes that Lorelei would be born more quickly, and my nurse seemed to think she would be.
When it was time to start pushing, my lingering cough quit lingering, and decided instead to plant itself firmly in my lungs and make pushing a baby out nearly impossible. My nurse quickly announced that I wasn't getting anywhere, and turned off my epidural to help "motivate" me.
Well. Thanks.
I can't remember how long it took for the epidural to wear off, but it didn't seem like long. I'm almost embarrassed to admit this, but I was completely unprepared for the pain. I mean, I know that childbirth is painful, but keep in mind I only had Sydney's birth to compare it to, and I planned to have the exact same (pain-free) birth the second time around. In addition to the pain and the resurrected cough, I also felt extremely woozy from all the medication (epidural and penicillin). I was also extra weak, because I was already sleep deprived (remember, I only slept a couple of hours before heading to the hospital) and hadn't had anything to eat since dinner the night before. It seemed like the perfect storm, childbirth style.
I was still clinging to the hope that Lorelei would be born more quickly, and that it was almost over, but...no.
After a lot of drama on my part, including telling the nurse that I was just fine letting the baby live in my uterus forever thankyouverymuch, and just OVER two hours of pushing, Lorelei Ann was born at 1:18 p.m. on October 17, 2011 (5 days early). She weighed 7 lbs, 7.4 oz, and was 19.75" long.
Whew.
Here's another admission: I felt so sick and exhausted after Lorelei was born, I didn't really want to hold her. I just wanted to lay there and sleep; there was no surge of adrenaline or endorphins or ANYTHING after it was over, and it wasn't a good feeling. Thankfully, I got over it pretty quickly, and all was well. But after dissecting the whole experience in the days, weeks, and months that followed, here's what I came up with:
1. The next time I give birth, I do not want to be sick.
2. The next time I give birth, I do not want to test positive for GBS (no GBS=no penicillin IV).
3. The next time I give birth, I want to be mentally prepared to feel pain.
4. The next time I give birth, I do not want an epidural.
#1 and #2 are ridiculous, because I have no control over them.
#3 is a big, fat DUH.
#4 terrified me.
Make no mistake, I did not instantly convert into one of those brave women who desires to experience every twinge of childbirth. I would choose a pain-free birth any day over another birth like Lorelei's, but the scary epidural experience and the woozy feeling I battled during Lorelei's labor made me want to at least consider having an unmediated birth the third time around. However, I know myself pretty well, and I knew it would take A LOT for that to happen. When we found out we were expecting Ford (surprise!), here's what I started doing to prepare for an unmedicated birth:
1. Praying
2. Worrying
3. Praying to stop worrying
4. Watching Ricki Lake's documentary "The Business of Being Born"
5. Reading the book "Ina May's Guide to Childbirth"
6. Picking the brains of every single doctor, nurse, friend, casual acquaintance (not really) about their birth experiences
Despite all my preparations, I wasn't convinced I could handle an unmedicated birth. I WANTED to, but didn't think I had what it took. Plus, it was very likely Chet wouldn't be present for Ford's birth, leaving me without a support system (NO ONE can replace a husband in the childbirth process). I felt like the odds were stacked against me, and I knew I would likely cave once I was in labor, at the hospital, and presented the option of an epidural.
So...how did it all turn out?!
Stay tuned (Baby #3 just woke up from his nap)...
I can't believe I've waited until he's almost 8-months old to continue this story...better late than never!
FYI, this portion of Ford's birth story is going to be mostly about the girls' births, both of which helped shape my "plan" for baby number three's birth.
Sydney's and Lorelei's births were very similar to each other in the way that they began (the endings were a little different though--well, not THAT different since the end product in both cases was a baby daughter). With all three pregnancies I experienced very noticeable (but not painful) Braxton-Hicks contractions for the entire second half of the pregnancy. On January 26, 2010, Chet and I went to bed by 10:00 p.m., and around 11:30 p.m. I woke up with contractions that were definitely NOT Braxton-Hicks contractions. Chet and I timed the contractions for a little while, then called Labor and Delivery. They told us to come in so they could check me, so we packed our bags and headed to the hospital (35 miles away) and arrived about 2:00 a.m. Unfortunately I was not progressed enough for them to admit me (the contractions were pretty uncomfortable by this point), so they sent us "home." We decided against driving 35 miles back home, and instead checked into a hotel right across the street and tried to get some sleep until about 6:00 a.m. (that's when they told us to come back). We didn't get much sleep.
They admitted me at 6:00 a.m. and I immediately asked for an epidural. That was my plan all along, by the way: to get an epidural as soon as possible (and it worked like a dream).
Not much happened after this, until it was time for me to push. I pushed for just under two hours (not necessarily uncommon for a first baby), and Sydney Jo was born at 1:51 p.m. on January 27, 2010 (7 days early). She weighed 6 lbs, 11.4 oz, and was 19.25" long.
Lorelei's entrance into this world began just like Sydney's: we went to bed on October 16th, 2011, and I woke up a couple of hours later with labor contractions. (A few weeks before Lorelei was born, I tested positive for GBS during one of my prenatal doctor visits, which just meant I needed to get to the hospital as soon as labor started in order to get an IV of penicillin--there would be no sending me home this time!) So we grabbed our bags, transferred sleeping Sydney to the neighbor's house, and drove to the hospital. Like last time, the contractions were pretty uncomfortable, and I planned to get an epidural ASAP.
Here's a small twist to the story, though. A couple of weeks before Lorelei was born, I had a nasty cold. So nasty, in fact, that I remember not caring if Lorelei was born three weeks late, as long as I had time to get well before I had to go through labor and delivery. Thankfully, the cold was mostly gone when I went into labor. Unfortunately, a hacking cough continued to linger. I was coughing constantly, and it was annoying. Extra annoying once I was in labor.
Anyway, back to the hospital. The nurses got me started on the penicillin IV, and the anesthesiologist came around with my epidural. But remember the hacking cough? Yeah. It made it hard, in addition to the contractions, to remain still while I was getting poked in the back with a giant needle. And the anesthesiologist? He was inexperienced, making the epidural experience quite scary. So scary to me, a lady in labor, that I vowed to never get an epidural again (even though I knew it might be an empty threat). I don't remember exactly why the experience was so awful, but it was awful enough to make Chet track down the head anesthesiologist and tell him that his guy did a terrible job and needed more practice. If you know Chet, it take A LOT for him to do/say something like that.
Anyway.
Here's a small twist to the story, though. A couple of weeks before Lorelei was born, I had a nasty cold. So nasty, in fact, that I remember not caring if Lorelei was born three weeks late, as long as I had time to get well before I had to go through labor and delivery. Thankfully, the cold was mostly gone when I went into labor. Unfortunately, a hacking cough continued to linger. I was coughing constantly, and it was annoying. Extra annoying once I was in labor.
Anyway, back to the hospital. The nurses got me started on the penicillin IV, and the anesthesiologist came around with my epidural. But remember the hacking cough? Yeah. It made it hard, in addition to the contractions, to remain still while I was getting poked in the back with a giant needle. And the anesthesiologist? He was inexperienced, making the epidural experience quite scary. So scary to me, a lady in labor, that I vowed to never get an epidural again (even though I knew it might be an empty threat). I don't remember exactly why the experience was so awful, but it was awful enough to make Chet track down the head anesthesiologist and tell him that his guy did a terrible job and needed more practice. If you know Chet, it take A LOT for him to do/say something like that.
Anyway.
The epidural began working quickly, and my dad showed up (at this point it was about 6:00 a.m. on October 17th). He drove in the night before, because I called him earlier in the day and foreshadowed that Lorelei would be born in the next couple of days. It was fun to have an extra loved one around. I'm not one of those people who can "relax" or sleep while in labor (even with an epidural), so it was nice to have an extra person to chat with.
At this point, the only thing I was worried about was pushing for two hours, like I did with Sydney. Even though it was painless (thanks to the epidural), it was still exhausting. I had high hopes that Lorelei would be born more quickly, and my nurse seemed to think she would be.
When it was time to start pushing, my lingering cough quit lingering, and decided instead to plant itself firmly in my lungs and make pushing a baby out nearly impossible. My nurse quickly announced that I wasn't getting anywhere, and turned off my epidural to help "motivate" me.
Well. Thanks.
I can't remember how long it took for the epidural to wear off, but it didn't seem like long. I'm almost embarrassed to admit this, but I was completely unprepared for the pain. I mean, I know that childbirth is painful, but keep in mind I only had Sydney's birth to compare it to, and I planned to have the exact same (pain-free) birth the second time around. In addition to the pain and the resurrected cough, I also felt extremely woozy from all the medication (epidural and penicillin). I was also extra weak, because I was already sleep deprived (remember, I only slept a couple of hours before heading to the hospital) and hadn't had anything to eat since dinner the night before. It seemed like the perfect storm, childbirth style.
I was still clinging to the hope that Lorelei would be born more quickly, and that it was almost over, but...no.
After a lot of drama on my part, including telling the nurse that I was just fine letting the baby live in my uterus forever thankyouverymuch, and just OVER two hours of pushing, Lorelei Ann was born at 1:18 p.m. on October 17, 2011 (5 days early). She weighed 7 lbs, 7.4 oz, and was 19.75" long.
Whew.
Here's another admission: I felt so sick and exhausted after Lorelei was born, I didn't really want to hold her. I just wanted to lay there and sleep; there was no surge of adrenaline or endorphins or ANYTHING after it was over, and it wasn't a good feeling. Thankfully, I got over it pretty quickly, and all was well. But after dissecting the whole experience in the days, weeks, and months that followed, here's what I came up with:
1. The next time I give birth, I do not want to be sick.
2. The next time I give birth, I do not want to test positive for GBS (no GBS=no penicillin IV).
3. The next time I give birth, I want to be mentally prepared to feel pain.
4. The next time I give birth, I do not want an epidural.
#1 and #2 are ridiculous, because I have no control over them.
#3 is a big, fat DUH.
#4 terrified me.
Make no mistake, I did not instantly convert into one of those brave women who desires to experience every twinge of childbirth. I would choose a pain-free birth any day over another birth like Lorelei's, but the scary epidural experience and the woozy feeling I battled during Lorelei's labor made me want to at least consider having an unmediated birth the third time around. However, I know myself pretty well, and I knew it would take A LOT for that to happen. When we found out we were expecting Ford (surprise!), here's what I started doing to prepare for an unmedicated birth:
1. Praying
2. Worrying
3. Praying to stop worrying
4. Watching Ricki Lake's documentary "The Business of Being Born"
5. Reading the book "Ina May's Guide to Childbirth"
6. Picking the brains of every single doctor, nurse, friend, casual acquaintance (not really) about their birth experiences
Despite all my preparations, I wasn't convinced I could handle an unmedicated birth. I WANTED to, but didn't think I had what it took. Plus, it was very likely Chet wouldn't be present for Ford's birth, leaving me without a support system (NO ONE can replace a husband in the childbirth process). I felt like the odds were stacked against me, and I knew I would likely cave once I was in labor, at the hospital, and presented the option of an epidural.
So...how did it all turn out?!
Stay tuned (Baby #3 just woke up from his nap)...
Thursday, August 21, 2014
More Quotes
I promise I'll post about our Texas trip soon. Just know that it was glorious, and that I'm having to work hard to enjoy the rest of the summer. I'm ready for school to start, and for fall, and for everything pumpkin.
In the meantime, here are some more quotes from the kids:
Lorelei
I was reading a book and one of the pages kept "flying" up. Lorelei said, "I'll hold the page with my nail polish, Mommy." (I thought she was going to say "foot" or "toes.")
Sydney
I asked Sydney to "babysit" Ford downstairs while I took Lorelei upstairs to put her down for a nap. This meant Syd was to sit next to Ford while he laid on his play mat on the living room floor, and possibly entertain him. She did a great job, because he didn't cry for a second while I was putting Lorelei down.
Me: Thanks for babysitting, Syd. You did a great job!
Syd: You're welcome. I let him chew on my flip flops.
Me: ...
(Rest assured we had a "training moment" after that.)
2) During our recent return trip on the airplane, I was chatting with the woman next to me (she was in the aisle seat, I was in the middle, Syd had the window seat).
Sydney (whispering to me): Tell the lady that I was with Jesus when you were still a little girl.
Me: ...
Sydney: Didi said that when I turn 60, I can have wine.
Me: ...
Obviously, Sydney renders me speechless.
Even Bubby is getting a "quote" this post! But first, two bits of background information:
1) Sydney is ALWAYS asking to hold Bubby.
2) Sydney ALWAYS has about 30 bandaids stuck to her body.
Like so:
Sydney had just woken up from her nap, and requested juice. She was sitting in our big arm chair, and I asked her to hold Ford while I got her juice. While I was puttering around in the kitchen, Sydney started to cry. I rushed in, and she was crying some serious tears, but Bubby was perfectly fine.
Me: What's wrong?!
Syd: B-B-Bubby ripped off my bandaid!
Me (stifling a laugh): ...
Bubby (beginning to gnaw on the bandaid in his hand): ...
Me (still stifling a laugh): Aww, Syd, he didn't mean to...
Syd (20 minutes later): I don't want to hold Bubby anymore!
Happy Thursday!
In the meantime, here are some more quotes from the kids:
Lorelei
I was reading a book and one of the pages kept "flying" up. Lorelei said, "I'll hold the page with my nail polish, Mommy." (I thought she was going to say "foot" or "toes.")
Me: What did you do at camp today?
Lor: I didn't paint.
Me: Why not?
Lor: I didn't want to wear a smock.
Me: You didn't?
Lor: No. But my friend painted.
Me: What did she paint?
Lor: Blue.
Lorelei (shouting), as we were walking out of the grocery store, "THANKS FOR THE FOOD!"Sydney
I asked Sydney to "babysit" Ford downstairs while I took Lorelei upstairs to put her down for a nap. This meant Syd was to sit next to Ford while he laid on his play mat on the living room floor, and possibly entertain him. She did a great job, because he didn't cry for a second while I was putting Lorelei down.
Me: Thanks for babysitting, Syd. You did a great job!
Syd: You're welcome. I let him chew on my flip flops.
Me: ...
(Rest assured we had a "training moment" after that.)
2) During our recent return trip on the airplane, I was chatting with the woman next to me (she was in the aisle seat, I was in the middle, Syd had the window seat).
Sydney (whispering to me): Tell the lady that I was with Jesus when you were still a little girl.
Me: ...
Sydney: Didi said that when I turn 60, I can have wine.
Me: ...
Obviously, Sydney renders me speechless.
Even Bubby is getting a "quote" this post! But first, two bits of background information:
1) Sydney is ALWAYS asking to hold Bubby.
2) Sydney ALWAYS has about 30 bandaids stuck to her body.
Like so:
Sydney had just woken up from her nap, and requested juice. She was sitting in our big arm chair, and I asked her to hold Ford while I got her juice. While I was puttering around in the kitchen, Sydney started to cry. I rushed in, and she was crying some serious tears, but Bubby was perfectly fine.
Me: What's wrong?!
Syd: B-B-Bubby ripped off my bandaid!
Me (stifling a laugh): ...
Bubby (beginning to gnaw on the bandaid in his hand): ...
Me (still stifling a laugh): Aww, Syd, he didn't mean to...
Syd (20 minutes later): I don't want to hold Bubby anymore!
Happy Thursday!
Sunday, August 17, 2014
We're BA-ack!
The blog has been neglected because we've been in Texas the last two weeks! We all flew to the great state (in the wee hours of the morning) Saturday, August 2nd. Chet returned to VA the following Saturday (at a reasonable hour), while the kids and I hung around another week. Yesterday (Saturday) Didi flew with us (in the wee hours of the morning--why do I do this to us?!) back to VA so that I wouldn't have to wrestle three kids on the plane by myself, and to help me transition back into real life.
Thank goodness for Didi! The 2nd picture was taken just a little while ago; Ford fell asleep in Didi's arms while waiting for Mommy (and Daddy) to get home from the movie ("The Giver").
I promise I'll post about Texas, but not now.
Toodles.
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