Cement Mixer, Putty Putty

We had a mini-basketball court and expanded patio poured in our backyard a few weeks ago. Braden and his neighbor friend Brendan were fascinated by the giant mixer truck.  I told them they were allowed to watch as long as they stayed out of the way and didn't touch anything.  They were out there for a good 45 minutes.

What a good dad

Nathan, my brothers, and my dad had plans to go golfing last Saturday for kind of a Father's Day activity.  Braden really wanted to go, and instead of (like I would have done) telling him that he was too small, Nathan told him he could come and watch & hit a few balls on the driving range.  Well, they got to the course and there was a "No Spectators Under the age of 18" rule.  Nathan called me and asked me to see if there was a tee time at the other golf course across town.  They had one, but they also had the same rule.  

Instead of bringing him home and going golfing as planned (like I would have done,) Nathan let the other three go ahead and golf their 9 holes.  He spent the morning with Braden hitting a bucket of balls at the driving range and putting at the mini-golf course there.  

Surprisingly, Braden was a decent driver and a good putter.  Their final mini-golf score was Dad 42, Son 58.  Nathan says next time if we borrow some clubs Braden's own size, he'll be able to golf nine holes with the big boys.

I was so impressed with my husband for sacrificing his fun morning to not only avoid disappointing his son, but to make a memory with him too.  What a good example and a great way to spend Father's Day.

I've Been Tagged

My sister in law Kara tagged me - my first ever tag.  Apparently, this no cheating tag is intended to show our true colors.  Here it goes . . . 

#1.  Post a picture of your kitchen sink as it looks at this very moment.

If only our eternal salvation was judged on the state of the kitchen sink, I'd be in like Flynn!

#2.  Post a picture of your toilet.

What do you really say about a toilet?  Maybe this:  I realize it looks spartan, but I don't believe in toilet hats.  Though some people call them lid covers, they are really just a fuzzy hat for the commode.  Nathan wanted them when we first began rugging and toweling our house.  But I don't think a toilet needs a hat.  So it is bare.

#3.  Post a picture of your laundry room.

I wish it was a room.  Alas, it is a laundry closet.  But that is how I wanted it -- having the washer on the same floor as the bedrooms sure beats the heck out of hoofing it down to the basement all day long on wash day.

#4.  Post a picture of the inside of your fridge.

This is proof of the extent of my fruit obsession.  In this one view there are cherries, a giant bowl of grapes, a bowl of strawberries, and a drawer of apples.  That doesn't even count the contents of the fruit bowl on the countertop.

Also note:  in a previous post I referenced my 'yogurt shelf.'  You can clearly see that I have 18 containers of Yoplait on the bottom left shelf.  Unless they are being eaten, that is where they live.  Always.

This is is the door of the fridge.  We look a little condiment-happy, but hey - we like to keep our options open.  Although five different brands of barbecue sauce does constitute a lot of options... 

#5.  Post a picture of what your kids/husband are doing right now.

Rebecca has been in a big kid bed for a year and has not gotten out of bed once.  Not once.  She still waits for me to come in and get her every morning and after every nap. 

I like how Braden is smart enough to at least p-r-e-t-e-n-d that he was asleep even though he isn't.

Funny how the oldest one, the seven year old, is the only one sleeping with 3 dolls!

#6.  Show us your favorite shoes.

These Target specials have been with me for . . . a while.  I know they're dirty, the insoles are cracked and some of the stitching is separating, but they are the most comfortable sandals I have ever owned.  I cannot bring myself to get rid of them.  I even tried to find some replacement sandals just like them.  I wore the replacements a lot, but they weren't up to snuff, and last week they went to D.I.  I bet these are going to be like my dad's duck shirt - the one we begged and begged for him to give up and finally disappeared one curious morning when my mom accidentally-on-purpose threw it in the trash.  Don't get any ideas, Mom!

#7.  Your favorite room

Ever notice how lots of good conversations seem to happen in the kitchen?

#8.  Your closet.

I was being strictly honest about this blog-tag's "Right Now" clause.  Otherwise I might have repositioned the bra to be out of camera range . . . 

#9.  Your Dream Vacation

We haven't had it yet.  Our ten-year anniversary is next summer, and we're planning to go on a childless, grownup trip.  I'll post our top five (order changes daily) and maybe I'll take suggestions . . . 

1.  New York City

2.  A cruise to the Yucatan or Caribbean

3.  Mexico City (where Nathan served his mission)

4.  Washington D.C.

5.  Hawaii:  not likely because of the super-long flight and jet lag and Nathan's hatred of sand

#10.  Self-portrait as you look Right Now.

This was the hardest to be honest about.  I was caught at 9:30 p.m.  The makeup had long since gone (where does it go, anyway?) and I was just getting ready to sit on the couch with Nathan and watch a rerun of The Office.  This is probably what I looked like on Saturday, when my 23 year old brother, arriving earlier than anticipated to our Father's Day party and right before I had a chance to complete my 'morning toilette', looked at me askance and said, "Did you just get up or something?  You look different."  Thanks, Reed.

I have completed my tag responsibilities.  Now I tag . . . Karen, Amy, Natalie, Jill, and Anne!

Essence of Summer Happiness

I can't think of much that is better than an ice cream cone on a warm summer evening while swinging on the swings at sunset.

Contented

Today I am grateful for my family.  I have good kids:  obedient, funny, fun-loving, and well-behaved.  Every mom has days that she wants to give them away to the gypsies, but today is a day I want to keep them.  

Nathan is working hard at the office, and I am grateful he is such a hard worker for our family and is a good provider.  He is a good dad.  He honors the mother of his children, and he helps me discipline them instead of leaving me hung out to dry when the going gets tough.  He's willing to bathe them, change them, read to them, and do Huck-a-Monkey at bedtime.  He even lets them tag after him when he's doing projects so they can 'help' and maybe learn a little.  (You should have seen Braden fixing the sprinkler heads with him last week!)

On a sidenote, yesterday was house-cleaning day, and since it is summer break Cassidy joined Braden in the chores.  I did all jobs that required cleanser, and between the two of them they completed the dusting and vacuuming.  At the end Cassidy proclaimed how tired she was and then stated, "It feels so good to do service."  When I remarked that what she had just done was not service, but in fact, was a part of living in a family, her brow furrowed, and she developed a rather baffled look on her face.  I guess we'll work some more on the definition of service in that it mostly refers to things you don't 'have' to do!

Two Peas?

I like to call this

 Crib Legs.

Rebecca is our quietest and most easy going child. Though these are traits I have never claimed to have, the similarities between these two sets of corresponding pictures are striking.  (I am on the left, and Becca on the right.) 

Like mother, like daughter, anyone?

A Funny Girl

While driving in the car today, Cassidy asked if our house was 'on the more expensive side or the cheaper side.'  I explained to her that since we bought a large lot and our house has four bedrooms on the main floor instead of just three, it was a little more expensive than some houses in our neighborhood, but as houses all over go, it was probably on the 'cheaper side.'

She replied, "Well, I was just asking because I love our house so much and I think it is so pretty that I probably wouldn't sell it for a million bajillion dollars."  I didn't say so to her at the time, but I'd sell it for a million bajillion dollars.  I'd even just sell it for a million without the bajillion dollars . . . 

The First Three Birth Stories, Rebecca

Rebecca

Rebecca's saga began w-a-y before she was born.  When I was 29 weeks pregnant I went into preterm labor.  We got the contractions stopped at the hospital without too much trouble, but I remained on modified bed rest and oral nifedipine for the next six weeks.  I was dilated to 1 cm and 40% effaced, but stayed that way for a while.  Dr. B. told me I just had to make it to 35 weeks, and after that I could stop taking the pills and they wouldn't try to stop my labor at the point.  At a 34 week ultrasound my doctor noticed signs of calcification in the placenta and told me she would be surprised if I made it to full term.

I got to 35 weeks and . . . nothing.  Just Braxtons, and not very exciting ones at that.  Boo.  I had myself all ready to have this baby in August, and what does she do?  Nada.  Well, 36 weeks came and one day I had contractions 3-5 minutes apart for 2 hours.  And then they stopped.  Argh.  My next office visit I was to 2 cm. By 37 weeks no change but the baby had descended a little.   The doctor promised to strip my membranes at my 38 weeks appointment. Dilated to 2+ cm, but nothing came of the membrane stripping.  I was beginning to feel irritated at my little false-starter.  We set an induction date.

Rebecca was due on September 20th, and after all the third trimester drama, ended up being my only child to be induced! What a kick in the pants.  Since I had a history of  brief labors (my mom prefers to call them Fake Labors) we set my induction appointment for Wednesday, September 14th at 10 a.m. rather than the standard 5:00-6:00.  All the nurses on the floor thought Dr. B. was crazy to agree to it, and I heard more than one of them mumble, "She's going to back here in the middle of the night . . . "  

I showed up at 10:00, had IV and Pitocin started by 10:30, and was feeling great.  My mom and sister Katie arrived around 11:00.  I was still 2+cm after 1 hour of Pit, but contractions were getting a more noticeable and slightly painful.  Though I didn't really want it (I was remembering the sleepy+talkative=weird) my labor nurse convinced me to take 1/2 dose of Nubain around noon.  My doctor came to use the big blue plastic crochet hook to break my water at 12:30, and I got my epidural right after.  I only felt 2 contractions that were really bad and painful.  (That's the way to do it, ladies!)  I was 3 cm at AROM.  At 1:00 I made it to 5 cm.  My dad called from his cell phone in the parking lot to say he was finally able to make it after his morning business meeting and he was just in time!  After we hung up I got dizzy and asked Nathan to get my nurse to give me more IV fluids or something.  Well, I was dizzy because I was complete all of a sudden!  In came the doctor, and after 2 pushes out came Rebecca.  Katie got to cut the cord this time around.  I don't remember crying at the delivery of my other two children, but Rebecca had put me through 10 weeks of worry and I was so relieved she was healthy and the pregnancy was finally over, I cried as I stroked her head for the first time.

I was so glad that both my dad and sister were present this time around.  I knew it wasn't weird to have my mom there for Braden, and so I told my dad he would be invited if he'd like to come. He was unsure, and up until he walked into the room, I thought he might be planning to stay in the waiting room.  But he came, and I was so glad he did.  I remember he and my mom both teared up (it's called the Emotional Double Whammy) and my dad gave me a hug and told me he was proud of me.  They'll be invited again next time . . . 

As for all those skeptical nurses, Dr. B. and I had a good little chuckle.  She and I knew what was what, because of all the people on the labor floor - including both people in spontaneous labor and inductions that came at the crack of dawn to start - I was the first one of the shift to deliver!

The First Three Birth Stories, Braden Next

Braden

Braden was due November 13th.  Again, I had Braxtons all throughout the pregnancy, but nothing painful or significant.  The night of October 30th Nathan and I were watching t.v. and I started contracting around 9:30 or 10:00.  They were about 5-7 minutes apart and slightly uncomfortable.  But my birthday is two days after Christmas and Cassidy's is on Independence Day, and even if it meant waiting longer, I proclaimed to Nathan, "I am NOT having a dang (although I don't think I said 'dang' . . .) Halloween baby.  No more holiday birthdays."  He asked me quite a few times if I didn't think maybe I should call the doctor or go to the hospital, but I refused to do either.  He was skeptical, but went along with me when I told him I would go to bed and hope for the contractions to go away.

It worked!  I woke up on the morning of Halloween having slept soundly.  Had a normal day, dressed Cassidy up as Minnie Mouse, and took her trick-or-treating.  While we walked the neighborhood I had some really weird pelvic pains that weren't quite contractions.  Went to bed relieved there would be no Halloween baby in our family.

Woke up the next day, Friday, at 5:15 a.m. and went to the bathroom.  Came back to bed thinking I was feeling damp.  Thought about it for a minute.  Changed my pajamas.  Waited, because I didn't want to wake anyone up for nothing.  Think I feel damp again.  What is it with me and 'fake water breaking??'  I wake Nathan up, we take Cassidy to his aunt's house, and head to the hospital.  I had been 3-4 cm in the office, and when the nurse checked me I was 4+ cm and she wasn't sure if my water had broken either.  They kept me for observation for an hour, and at the end I was 5 cm.  

At 8:30 Dr. B. came to break my water.  My mom & Nathan's mom had arrived, and they commented that my doctor looked like she was twelve.  (She's not, but she is young-looking.)  Remembering my experience with Cassidy, I asked if I could have the epidural before she did 

it.  Yes, I did ask, and no, I don't apologize for it.  She said she didn't have time to wait because she had patients to see in clinic and the anesthesiologist was in on a C-section at the time.  So she went ahead and did it and I opted for a dose of IV Nubain instead to tide me over.  (It was my first experience with Nubain:  now I know it makes me both talkative & sleepy.  Just ask the others in the room - that's not a good combo for me.)  By 9:00 a.m. I was feeling some decent ones and couldn't talk through them, but nothing awful.  At that time the surgery was over and he came to place my epidural. 

 

Shortly after the epidural I felt dizzy and fuzzy-minded and then I'm told my face went white as a ghost.  Nathan ran for my nurse and she came in to turn me to my side and open up my IV because my blood pressure had dropped to 70/41.  It only took a few minutes to fix (that's a common side effect of epidural anesthesia) and I was back to normal.  At 11:10 I felt pressure, so the nurse checked me and I was complete.  My doctor was over in a wink - her office was in the parking lot of the hospital - and after four pushes, Braden was here!  He cried a lot and peed on the doctor, a fact he's pretty proud of.  

I was relieved to have him here and healthy -  8 lb. 3 oz, 20.5 inches long.  I was also really happy with my decision to invite both grandmas to be present at his birth.  Since Nathan thinks cutting the umbilical cord is gross, my mom got to do it, and it was so special to let some extended family members share in the experience.  Until I was a L&D nurse I thought it was weird to invite others besides the expectant couple, but I loved the feeling of closeness and family bonding!

The First Three Birth Stories, Cassidy First

The fact of my current pregnancy has given me a desire to chronicle the birth story of each of our three children, mostly for their knowledge and personal history's sake.  It will not be graphic per se, but it will be skippable for those who don't enjoy birth stories.

Cassidy

Cassidy was due July 16th.  As a first time mom, I thought there was no way I could hope to deliver early, so I had no qualms about traveling 5 hours away to a family reunion at a dude ranch in Antimony, UT from June 30-July 2.  My certified nurse midwife had cleared me to go, and said I had no worries even though I was 38 weeks and dilated to 3 cm.  I laughed when my dad told me they went a few minutes out of their way on the way down to locate the hospital in Castledale . . . but I didn't tell him I was dilated either.  :-)

The day after we got back I had an appointment at the clinic (Monday, July 3rd) and the CNM agreed to strip my membranes.  A little cramping afterwards, but nothing exciting.  Bummed, but oh well.

Independence Day was a Tuesday.  Nathan and I had plans to go for a picnic dinner and then see the rodeo in Oakley with Grandpa & Grandma Toone and Nathan's parents and siblings.  We got up late that morning, had a leisurely cereal breakfast, and sat around.  During the sitting around, I decided that 'this had gone on long enough.'  We had a Top Five list of girls' names pretty much the entire pregnancy, but had never settled on one.  I informed Nathan that our inde

cision was bordering on ridiculous and we should pick one already!  I mean, our baby was to be born in a week or two, and we'd had plenty of time.  So we did what any thinking parents would do, and put all five names in a hat.  (Yes, a real hat, not a figurative hat.  I believe it was a baseball cap.)  Now, keep in mind, I REALLY liked two of these names, pretty much liked one, and was not at all sure what I would do if we drew the other two . . . Luckily the first pick was a winner, and our unborn child was to be Cassidy Dawn.  Whew.  I went to get in the shower.

I got out of the shower, dried off, and dressed.  It was a very hot day, and even though it was 11:15 or so, it was over 100 degrees already.  So I thought I was sweaty.  Abnormally sweaty.  Wait a second - I hadn't yet been outside, and my very pregnant self had made darn sure that the air conditioner was set to frigid.  Hm.  I felt stupid not knowing (because I'd heard of people who didn't know, and how can you not know?) but I suspected my water had broken.  I had Braxton Hicks contractions throughout the pregnancy, and wasn't having any that were different to speak of, but --

I called the office, and Karen, the big Amazon-looking scary CNM I had hoped wouldn't be there for my delivery was on call.  She said to come on down and she'd check me over.  We got there around noon and she couldn't decide if my membranes had ruptured or not.  She suspected a high leak, but said I was dilated to 4 cm now.  I had been retaining lots of water throughout the pregnancy, with +4 pitting edema in my legs (for those who don't know what that is, just file it under super yucky and something you never want to see.) so she suspected (but didn't tell me until later) that I might have pregnancy induced hypertension, so she checked my blood pressure.  It was 152/98, which is way too high for safety, so she said, "Well, I don't know if your water's broken or not, but either way, you're having this baby today!"  And off to the hospital we went, arriving at 12:30 p.m.

I got situated and they started me on Pitocin.  My mean labor nurse named MaryAnn came in with a lunch tray said, "Here's lunch," and then left.  Well I was hungry, so I dug in, and Nathan left to go get fast food at a nearby restaurant.  While he was gone, MaryAnn came back in to check my IV, saw me eating lunch, and said in a snide voice, "Well, now that you've eaten you won't be able to get your epidural for at least 12 hours," and walked right out!  I panicked.  I put down my fork and burst into tears.  Nathan found me sobbing upon his return:  "I can't have natural childbirth.  I don't know what to do.  I didn't take Lamaze . . wail . . . " and he went straight out to get Karen.  She came in, gave me a hug, and told me not to worry about MaryAnn because she was grump who takes it out on her patients.  She said, "You can still have your epidural, and if anyone asks when you ate last, we'll just say a couple of hours ago and be vague."  Now I felt guilty for thinking she was a scary Amazon woman.

I contracted for a couple hours without feeling too much.  Nathan and I played Phase 10 for a while, and then at about 2:30 Karen broke my water.  She asked if I wanted to get up and walk the halls for a little while, and I thought, "Walking helps labor progress.  And since it's my first baby and I'll be in labor for quite a few more hours, that is great idea."  Well, I about 40 feet down the hall and had my first Real Contraction.  All of a sudden these babies were doozies! Doubled over in pain, I inched my way back to the room.  I felt like an elephant was doing a dance on my abdomen.  I'm pretty sure I was in tears.  As soon as I got within talking distance of the nurse's station they asked if I wanted my epidural, and I vigorously assented.  I remember wanting to call for my mom to come save me and then stopping myself because I was too old to call for my mommy.

As I waited through probably a total of 7 contractions for the Epidural Man to come, wonderful no-longer-scary Karen talked me through my pain and used guided imagery to help me patiently wait . . . for the man who I eventually pledged my undying love for.  The Anesthesiologist.  As the epidural began to take effect I asked him if his wife was jealous of how many other women offered to kiss him daily.  He laughed and said no.

Now feeling great, we played some more Phase 10.  After an hour and a half or so I began to feel some weirdness.  I had a walking epidural, so I could still move my legs and feel some things, but no contraction pain.  I called MaryAnn in, and she said we'd need anesthesia to top my epidural off.  He came in and after poking my giant belly with a pen and rubbing some ice on it, none of which I could feel, proclaimed that I needed to be checked instead of topped off.  Well, it was 5:00 p.m., and in saunters MaryAnn to reluctantly check me.  She was annoyed until I saw her eyes open wide - "Ummmmm, you're complete."  And she rushed off, unprepared, to get the delivery cart set up.  (Ha.  Serves her right.)

I pushed for 30 minutes and then decided I was tired and they were going to have to figure out another way to get the baby out, because I was done.  Karen got right in my face and said, "You can't give up now.  You're almost there.  Just a few more . . . " and Cassidy was here!  Exactly 5:30 p.m. - five hours after getting to the hospital.  We were so surprised labor was so short.  She was 12 days early, 19 inches long, 7 pounds 4 ounces, and perfectly healthy!  We were so pleased, proud, excited, and . . . oh no!  They're going to send her home with us all by ourselves???  Scared.

Confessions of a Non-Brusher

The semi-annual children's dental checkup was this week.  I was bummed to hear that Braden needs a filling, but positively dismayed to find out that Rebecca has two cavities!  WHAT??  This was her first-ever dentist's visit!  I brush her teeth every morning and night!  How can this be?  Why, oh why, do my children have cursed teeth?  I, in spite of myself, had great teeth as a child. Read on, and you'll see . . . 

It's no wonder that I didn't understand why some people have a fear of the dentist.  I did not have one cavity until after I had been through two sets of braces.  I was thirteen years old, and am fully convinced I could have gone longer but for the orthodontia.  This, in spite of the fact that I was horrible at oral hygiene.  Really until I was about 12, I was less than vigilant about brushing my teeth.  I know there were multiple brush-free days in a row - sorry Mom - and sorry to anyone who caught a whiff of my breath.  I didn't begin to floss like I should until after I was married.  Again, I'm sorry, society.

The four year old non-brusher

I vividly remember myself as a four-year old trying in vain to convince my mom that at yesterday's checkup with the dentist he told me, "It's really better for your teeth if you brush them every other day to give them a rest." 

P.S.  To those still worried about Rebecca even after taking in my shocking personal revelations:  The family dentist says he thinks they're shallow and he'll be able to fix them without giving her the local anesthetic shots.  We're going to try, and if it looks like she's getting upset, we'll go to Plan B and take her to a pediatric dental specialist instead.  Hopefully that way we can avoid a traumatic first experience at the dentist for her.  

Things the pioneers never did

Last week I decided that for all the sentences I have ever started with "I'm glad I wasn't a pioneer because . . ." there is one thing I envy them.  No pioneer ever had to spend 10 minutes vigorously plunging the outhouse.

It's not a hard question for a 5 year old

A few months ago Braden was picked to be a helper in Primary Sharing Time.  The teacher was asking different children what right choice would be in varying questionable situations.  Braden's scenario stated:  "A little boy was walking home from school one day and found a magazine on the street.  He picked it up and realized that it had dirty pictures in it.  What should he do?"

Braden, my innocent Braden (whew!), answered without hesitation, "Wipe it off."  

Is that all it takes to be a quality mom?

Last Saturday was a hot day, and my daughters and a few neighborhood kids were playing on the swing set in the backyard. After I handed out the cheap-o store-brand twin pops, I realized that giving popsicles to my kids makes me feel like a good mom.  

It's inexplicable I know.  They have zero nutritional value and cost about 3 cents apiece (I figured it out!).  I remember the Joy of the Popsicle from my childhood - I grew up in Texas where pretty much every day was hot enough for a popsicle -

and I suppose I'm just glad I know that I'm making them truly happy for five sticky, sugary, artificial flavory minutes!

The Big One

I had the big ultrasound of the baby done last Friday.  Everything was great and healthy, and since she was way less modest this time, we got a very clear shot of her 'girliness.'  However, I'm beginning to think this little one has a mind of her own -- she's hanging out in breech position!  Now, as a medical professional, I know she absolutely has plenty of time to move around and get head down.  But as a mother whose 3 previous children have all been vertex (which means head down) from the first ultrasound on, something inside my mind says, "Ohhhhhh, no you don't!"  This is my fourth pregnancy, and I have much less anxiety and way fewer questions, but I guess I wouldn't be a true woman if I didn't have at least SOMETHING small to worry about!  This picture is a facial shot in profile, with the head on the left.  I know it sounds really dumb because it's early yet, but something in her face reminds me of Rebecca!

This was the first time we let the kids come with us for the ultrasound appointment, and I was really glad they came.  I liked making it a family affair.  Cassidy and Braden had thought it was cool to hear the heartbeat, and their eyes were full of wonder when they first saw the baby move on the screen.  (Even at this young age, she's a little feisty, and would kick at the ultrasound transducer every time it got too close for comfort.)  Rebecca was more impressed with me than with the baby, although I think it helped solidify the 'new sister in mommy's tummy' concept for her.  She kept telling Nathan, "Mommy is very brave.  Mommy is being so brave."  About once daily, Becca still says out of the blue, "The lady put gel on your tummy and she rubbed it all over."

P.S.  Just yesterday I was thinking about my girls' physical characteristics, and I realized that I kind of hope the new baby has straight hair like me.  Not straight hair like mine per se, because that would be cruel to wish this stubborn fine hair of mine on anyone, but I think I'd like to have a daughter whose hair isn't curly so we could avoid the tangles and the ritual morning squirt-down that my Shirley Temple wannabes endure daily!