***I found this written back in 2011 but never published. I am no longer an LLL Leader but the skills, joy, and pride I got from volunteering with such a great organization will always remain part of me.***
I love what I do. Not at work, I actually love that too, but it is what I do outside of work that really fills my soul. While at an LLL meeting a mom approached be before I had even introduced myself as a leader.
"Are you a leader?" she asked with a shaky voice.
"Yes," I replied.
Tears feel from her eyes as she struggled with her very young baby and diaper bag, "I need help" she muttered quietly as she gave in and allowed more tears to stream her face.
I immediately stood up and led her to the back of the room where we chatted for over an hour. What was causing her breastfeeding problems and subsequent sorrow is irrelevant. What is important and selfishly gratifying is that I can quite possibly help! Imagine, sitting there quietly doing your own thing when someone approaches you with tears drawing moist lines down their exhausted face, they look at you desperate, and mutter, "I need help".
I never thought I would be in a position where strangers would seek me in their most critical time of need. The pressure is immense and I hope what I offer is good enough. I can only hope my information, my attitude, and my words nourish these women who so desperately need them to. I hope that I can live up to what they need me to be. It is rare that I get a follow up from women who seek my help so I continue to this without really knowing if I'm making that much of a difference but even if the above mentioned mother discontinues breastfeeding at least for those moments that I sat with her I was able to reassure her that she was doing a good job and that her baby is lucky to have her as a mom.
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
Sunday, April 7, 2019
Yesterday (minus six years) Jamison turned five. (I started this post six years ago when Jamison turned five and finished it today when he turned 11).
Breathe.
My baby turned five. He'll be starting kindergarten soon and then he'll be married, living on his own, and maybe even have kids. Whoa, slow down.
Breathe.
My baby. My very first baby. The little boy who chose me to mother him. The little boy who stood his ground as I tried all the parenting "tricks" everyone says you have to do. All the stupid parenting tricks.
So many.
He's the baby who taught me to listen to my instincts. He's the baby who paved the sometimes bumpy road for his little sister. He evens says, "Raquel is lucky that I taught mommy so that mommy didn't try stupid things with her." He's right. He's smart. He's intuitive. He's kind. He's generous. Generous beyond his years. More generous than most adults. I am extremely proud of what my little five year old is growing into.
FIVE!!!
Breathe.
I wrote his birth story in technical terms, as if it were notes taken by a medical student. All my emotion was tied up in my beautiful new baby not his birth. He was small enough to be held using just one arm but his presence was enough to fill the world. His birth did not go as I had hoped but I had my baby and that's all I cared about. So I jotted down the facts of his birth. Labor started at 3am, at 5pm we went to the hospital, at 5am he was born... but his birth was more than just a series of events. His birth was beautiful, meaningful, long, scary, tiring, medical, and more. It wasn't until the natural, unmedicated, perfectly as planned birth of his sister did I realize the beauty inJamison's birth. The beauty in my birth. My birth to my baby boy. So what better way to honor his fifth birthday than to honor his birth and finally, proudly, tell the story of his birth. The birth that sent me into the world of motherhood.
Breathe.
It was 3 in the morning on April 6th. I was awakened by what I assumed to be contractions. This assumption was based on the intensity being enough to wake and keep me up. Or maybe what kept me up was the hope of getting to meet my baby boy who had stayed snuggled comfortably in the womb for 3 days longer than expected. I was eager to start this mothering thing so three days felt more like three months. This was my second pregnancy but only my first successful one. We, Rob and I, tried for him, we planned for him, we waited for him. Patiently waited for him as my due date came and went. And here I was, 3am and unable to sleep. My body filled with excitement that flowed through me like a fast flowing river pushing through my blood vessels. It was April 6th. I can't remember the weather 5 years ago but I considered taking a walk so it must have been nice enough for fresh air. I woke Rob up. The anticipation of Jamison's looming birth was more than I could handle alone. Rob seemed to have the same flow of excitement through him because he was up and ready to care for me.
Breathe
My plan was to labor at home as long as possible, then head to the hospital and hopefully be so close to pushing that no drugs or interventions would be required. I hired a doula to help me reach this goal. So at home I labored. Rob brought me pineapple, water, and anything else I requested all the while packing our hospital bag. That's right, we waited until my "past due" baby started to announce himself before packing the bags. As Rob ran around frantically filling up our bags, and oddly enough cleaning up the house, I remember shouting some demands at him. To which he responded, "I'm a little stressed out here." We both were. There were big changes and neither of us were able to comprehend in the slightest just how big those changes would be. And I kept laboring. My positions of choice were in bed on my left side or leaning over the birth ball while Rob rubbed my lower back in an attempt to soothe the back labor I was feeling. The back labor was getting intense but it was manageable.
Breathe
After I had been in labor for over 10 hours (or more) my parents showed up from St George and my doula arrived. I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by everything, the length of the labor, the people in my house, the pain of the labor, and of course the soon to be baby in my arms. I was eager to get settled in where this baby was going to be born, St Marks hospital. So around 5PM the birthing team headed on over to the hospital. My doula, Angie, supported my decision to go to the hospital but reassured me that I could stay home longer if I wanted. I chose to get going. Angie gave me some suggestions to ease the discomfort that was sure to come with a car ride but I declined them as I felt safer in the seat with the seatbelt on. Laboring women and cars do not mix. The ride was horribly uncomfortable and the fifteen minute drive to the hospital seemed to go on forever. The focus I had at home was lost in the car and my contractions became unbearable. My back felt as though it could be splitting in two so in order to cope I kept telling myself if I am dilated to a 7 a can do this. If I am a 7 I can do this, I can keep going...if I am a 7.
Breathe
Once at the hospital I was assigned a room and a nurse after checking in with some crying at the counter. I was terribly uncomfortable and exhausted. I had it in my head that the average first time labor was 12 to 15 hours. I SHOUDL BE HOLDING MY BABY BY NOW. The nurse, for some reason, did not like me laying on my left side which was one of the few positions I could handle. So she rolled me onto my back and held my arms down. She held me down! I desired my arms to be bent and by my face, my nurse desired them to be down and at my side. I experienced unbearable pain in that position but I laid there as I was told. The nurse checked my dilation and I was a TWO!!! The word, "two" fell from my mouth as I lost control of my entire body. The blow of hearing I was only a two after 15 hours of labor was more than I could recover from. Without a doubt I wanted an epidural and in that instant requested one. My sweet and supportive doula knew I meant it and supported my decision.
Breathe
After a arduous attempt at getting an IV in failed multiple times the anesthesiologist was called in, she did a wonderful job but I pulled it out on accident when I changed position. So she stuck me again. I waited desperately for someone to come in and give me the epidural while my doula offered her support to help me cope through each painful contraction. Without her I don't know how I would have gotten through this part. I had already given up. I was no longer focusing through the pain of contractions but rather crying through them. I wanted and needed pain relief. When an epidural was finally placed I was relieved, relaxed, and began enjoying this birth. My biggest concern was that the epidural would wear off and I'd have to experience the unimaginable pain of another contraction.
We discussed watching a movie but the selection was terrible so we chatted. We chatted about how exciting it would be to have our first baby and about how hungry I was. My family snuck me some crackers against doctor's orders. Many hours later I was dilated to a 5 1/2. My labor wasn't progressing so the resident doctor suggested breaking my water. I agreed with the support of my doula and family. It helped a little but labor was still slow.
***The above was written and never finished 6 years ago. I guess you could say I got busy. Today Jamison turns 11. Breath. Today I visited this blog for the first time in 6 years to remind myself of Jamison's birth and found this revision of his birth story left incomplete and forgotten about. Below I will do my best to finish the beautiful story of his birth.***
Breath.
At one point I experienced a contraction that would not stop which caused Jamison's heart rate to drop. I was given medication to stop the contraction, oxygen, and a position change. This all helped Jamison and his heart rate returned to normal but labor had stalled and so pitocin was started. Things moved along slowly until I was at 7 centimeters. Thanks to my doula's notes I can say that by this time I had been laboring for 24 hours and the day had switched over from Sunday to Monday. When I was checked again I was a 6. Dilation had gone backwards due to cervical swelling. At this time it was determined that a cesarean birth would be necessary. I was happy to have an end in sight. I had been laboring for over 24 hours, I was tired hungry, and I wanted to meet my little boy. Rob suited up and I was prepped for a c section. The lights were bright, the room was cold, and operating table was hard but I was happy to be there. I was happy to be done with labor and meet my baby. With me, Rob, the anesthesiologist, the doctor, and a nurse there were five us. And then, just like that at 5:03 in the morning, there were 6. I heard Jamison cry and my exhaustion melted away. I was a mom! Rob jumped up to see him and snapped some photos. He ran back to where my head was and showed a picture of our son from the screen of his camera. It wasn't the way I thought I'd see my baby for the first time but his full head of hair and apple red cheeks were so delightful I didn't care. I was proud, content, and in awe that my corner of the world had just gotten beautifully complicated.
As of 5:03 this morning I was officially the mother of a preteen. His kindness, honesty, and generosity are inspirational to those who are fortunate enough to know him. His sense of humor sometimes sneaks past me but when I catch it I’m left laughing for days. He cares deeply for others, from bugs to people, and has been known to revive worms from their death beds. He can’t play soccer to save his life, once kicking the ball to the other team because he, “didn’t want them to feel sad for not getting a turn,” but can skateboard like he has no fear. My little portion of this world is a fantastic place to be with this kiddo in it. Happy birthday to my first born, Jamison. Whoa, slow down!
Breathe.
My baby turned five. He'll be starting kindergarten soon and then he'll be married, living on his own, and maybe even have kids. Whoa, slow down.
Breathe.
My baby. My very first baby. The little boy who chose me to mother him. The little boy who stood his ground as I tried all the parenting "tricks" everyone says you have to do. All the stupid parenting tricks.
So many.
He's the baby who taught me to listen to my instincts. He's the baby who paved the sometimes bumpy road for his little sister. He evens says, "Raquel is lucky that I taught mommy so that mommy didn't try stupid things with her." He's right. He's smart. He's intuitive. He's kind. He's generous. Generous beyond his years. More generous than most adults. I am extremely proud of what my little five year old is growing into.
FIVE!!!
Breathe.
I wrote his birth story in technical terms, as if it were notes taken by a medical student. All my emotion was tied up in my beautiful new baby not his birth. He was small enough to be held using just one arm but his presence was enough to fill the world. His birth did not go as I had hoped but I had my baby and that's all I cared about. So I jotted down the facts of his birth. Labor started at 3am, at 5pm we went to the hospital, at 5am he was born... but his birth was more than just a series of events. His birth was beautiful, meaningful, long, scary, tiring, medical, and more. It wasn't until the natural, unmedicated, perfectly as planned birth of his sister did I realize the beauty in
Breathe.
It was 3 in the morning on April 6th. I was awakened by what I assumed to be contractions. This assumption was based on the intensity being enough to wake and keep me up. Or maybe what kept me up was the hope of getting to meet my baby boy who had stayed snuggled comfortably in the womb for 3 days longer than expected. I was eager to start this mothering thing so three days felt more like three months. This was my second pregnancy but only my first successful one. We, Rob and I, tried for him, we planned for him, we waited for him. Patiently waited for him as my due date came and went. And here I was, 3am and unable to sleep. My body filled with excitement that flowed through me like a fast flowing river pushing through my blood vessels. It was April 6th. I can't remember the weather 5 years ago but I considered taking a walk so it must have been nice enough for fresh air. I woke Rob up. The anticipation of Jamison's looming birth was more than I could handle alone. Rob seemed to have the same flow of excitement through him because he was up and ready to care for me.
Breathe
My plan was to labor at home as long as possible, then head to the hospital and hopefully be so close to pushing that no drugs or interventions would be required. I hired a doula to help me reach this goal. So at home I labored. Rob brought me pineapple, water, and anything else I requested all the while packing our hospital bag. That's right, we waited until my "past due" baby started to announce himself before packing the bags. As Rob ran around frantically filling up our bags, and oddly enough cleaning up the house, I remember shouting some demands at him. To which he responded, "I'm a little stressed out here." We both were. There were big changes and neither of us were able to comprehend in the slightest just how big those changes would be. And I kept laboring. My positions of choice were in bed on my left side or leaning over the birth ball while Rob rubbed my lower back in an attempt to soothe the back labor I was feeling. The back labor was getting intense but it was manageable.
Breathe
After I had been in labor for over 10 hours (or more) my parents showed up from St George and my doula arrived. I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by everything, the length of the labor, the people in my house, the pain of the labor, and of course the soon to be baby in my arms. I was eager to get settled in where this baby was going to be born, St Marks hospital. So around 5PM the birthing team headed on over to the hospital. My doula, Angie, supported my decision to go to the hospital but reassured me that I could stay home longer if I wanted. I chose to get going. Angie gave me some suggestions to ease the discomfort that was sure to come with a car ride but I declined them as I felt safer in the seat with the seatbelt on. Laboring women and cars do not mix. The ride was horribly uncomfortable and the fifteen minute drive to the hospital seemed to go on forever. The focus I had at home was lost in the car and my contractions became unbearable. My back felt as though it could be splitting in two so in order to cope I kept telling myself if I am dilated to a 7 a can do this. If I am a 7 I can do this, I can keep going...if I am a 7.
Breathe
Once at the hospital I was assigned a room and a nurse after checking in with some crying at the counter. I was terribly uncomfortable and exhausted. I had it in my head that the average first time labor was 12 to 15 hours. I SHOUDL BE HOLDING MY BABY BY NOW. The nurse, for some reason, did not like me laying on my left side which was one of the few positions I could handle. So she rolled me onto my back and held my arms down. She held me down! I desired my arms to be bent and by my face, my nurse desired them to be down and at my side. I experienced unbearable pain in that position but I laid there as I was told. The nurse checked my dilation and I was a TWO!!! The word, "two" fell from my mouth as I lost control of my entire body. The blow of hearing I was only a two after 15 hours of labor was more than I could recover from. Without a doubt I wanted an epidural and in that instant requested one. My sweet and supportive doula knew I meant it and supported my decision.
Breathe
After a arduous attempt at getting an IV in failed multiple times the anesthesiologist was called in, she did a wonderful job but I pulled it out on accident when I changed position. So she stuck me again. I waited desperately for someone to come in and give me the epidural while my doula offered her support to help me cope through each painful contraction. Without her I don't know how I would have gotten through this part. I had already given up. I was no longer focusing through the pain of contractions but rather crying through them. I wanted and needed pain relief. When an epidural was finally placed I was relieved, relaxed, and began enjoying this birth. My biggest concern was that the epidural would wear off and I'd have to experience the unimaginable pain of another contraction.
We discussed watching a movie but the selection was terrible so we chatted. We chatted about how exciting it would be to have our first baby and about how hungry I was. My family snuck me some crackers against doctor's orders. Many hours later I was dilated to a 5 1/2. My labor wasn't progressing so the resident doctor suggested breaking my water. I agreed with the support of my doula and family. It helped a little but labor was still slow.
***The above was written and never finished 6 years ago. I guess you could say I got busy. Today Jamison turns 11. Breath. Today I visited this blog for the first time in 6 years to remind myself of Jamison's birth and found this revision of his birth story left incomplete and forgotten about. Below I will do my best to finish the beautiful story of his birth.***
Breath.
At one point I experienced a contraction that would not stop which caused Jamison's heart rate to drop. I was given medication to stop the contraction, oxygen, and a position change. This all helped Jamison and his heart rate returned to normal but labor had stalled and so pitocin was started. Things moved along slowly until I was at 7 centimeters. Thanks to my doula's notes I can say that by this time I had been laboring for 24 hours and the day had switched over from Sunday to Monday. When I was checked again I was a 6. Dilation had gone backwards due to cervical swelling. At this time it was determined that a cesarean birth would be necessary. I was happy to have an end in sight. I had been laboring for over 24 hours, I was tired hungry, and I wanted to meet my little boy. Rob suited up and I was prepped for a c section. The lights were bright, the room was cold, and operating table was hard but I was happy to be there. I was happy to be done with labor and meet my baby. With me, Rob, the anesthesiologist, the doctor, and a nurse there were five us. And then, just like that at 5:03 in the morning, there were 6. I heard Jamison cry and my exhaustion melted away. I was a mom! Rob jumped up to see him and snapped some photos. He ran back to where my head was and showed a picture of our son from the screen of his camera. It wasn't the way I thought I'd see my baby for the first time but his full head of hair and apple red cheeks were so delightful I didn't care. I was proud, content, and in awe that my corner of the world had just gotten beautifully complicated.
As of 5:03 this morning I was officially the mother of a preteen. His kindness, honesty, and generosity are inspirational to those who are fortunate enough to know him. His sense of humor sometimes sneaks past me but when I catch it I’m left laughing for days. He cares deeply for others, from bugs to people, and has been known to revive worms from their death beds. He can’t play soccer to save his life, once kicking the ball to the other team because he, “didn’t want them to feel sad for not getting a turn,” but can skateboard like he has no fear. My little portion of this world is a fantastic place to be with this kiddo in it. Happy birthday to my first born, Jamison. Whoa, slow down!
Saturday, March 2, 2013
I don't blog enough. I simply do not blog enough. My children are growing up faster than I can put them to bed and it is passing by with little documentation. So here is a quick update.
Some things worth noting:
Photo taken today 3/2/13
On July 23, 2012 Raquel said "bye" for the first time.
7/30/12
L shook her head "no" at me when I tried to give her Vitamin D drops. I was trying to give her vitamin D drops and with a grin as big as she could do while still holding her mouth tightly shut (unlike her, she loves those drops) she proudly shook her head side to side. I think she was just testing out her new skill. It's not that she didn't want the drops but that she had been waiting for a chance, any chance, to let me know what she could do.
8/14/12
L threw my washable nursing pad in the toilet...while J was pooping in it. I threw it away after fishing it out. Oh the life of a mother.
8/20/12
Raquel not quit 13 months has recently started shaking her head "yes". She's been shaking her head "no" for a week or so but "yes" she seems to do with much more excitement than "no." She also says, mama, dada, hi, bye, and, yeah. Too cute.
Oh yeah she also signs, "milk," "more," and "all done" and also waves but has actually been waving now for a while.
10/29/12
Raquel went potty on the toilet for the first time!!! She came walking into the bathroom, grabbed her potty seat, put it on the toilet, and started asking for help onto it. Then she peed!!! Fully initiated by herself.
11/26/12
Raquel's words at 16 months in order of when she said them: mama, dada (maybe), hi, bye, eye, I love you (slurred together to sound like ILaOo, hot (pronounced ha), dog (sometimes pronounced da sometimes pronounced og), bite (pronounced ite). I've been told she also says car but have yet to hear it, and today she said dada with definite intent; she looked at Rob, pointed at him, and said "dada."
12/16/12
Raquel finally has more than 4 teeth. She cut her fifth one yesterday.
12/28/12
Raquel has cut her 6th tooth!
12/28/12
I heard L making kissing noises over and over so I take a look at her to see that she was holding the the hand held mirror up to her pudgy little face, was looking in it at herself in awe as she continued to "kiss" herself with the curiosity only a 17 month old could possess.
Cute things Jamison has said:
Photo taken today 3/2/13
7/25/12 (Raquel's birthday)
J: Mom, is Raquel one?
Me: yes
J: But why isn't she talking to me than?
7/3012
J: I thought I was going to be a bird when I came out of your belly and I was sad when I wasn't in a nest.
Hm, maybe the Buddhists have it right.
7/31/12
J's dream: I dreamt I was an adult in a kid pool and I put my whole head in the water.
7/31/12
While clipping J's nails he said, "mom, when you get old and can't clip your fingernails, I'll clip them for you when I'm an adult" He actually sounded very excited like it was a brilliant idea. Brilliantly compassionate. He's so sweet. I think I'll hold him to this one.
8/2/12
J: I just kissed Raquel. That means I love her. I'll never stop loving her. I just can't stop loving her. I also can't stop loving you, mommy. I can't stop loving my whole flamily (yes, I know it's mispelled, that's how J says it).
Me: Oh Jamison. I can't stop loving you. No matter what I will always love you. I will love you if you make good choices. I will love you if you make bad choices. I will love you if you make silly choices.
J: you just made me happy.
8/22/12
Me: you can pick whatever you want to wear for your first day of school. You can pick something that shows who you are.
J: I don't have anything like that.
Me: You don't?
J: Yeah, none of my clothes have my name on it.
9/5/12
Me: What did you do in class?
J: We sand a song but I didn't sing.
Me: Did anyone else not sing?
J: Nope, just me.
Me: Why didn't you sing in class?
J: Because it is boring... I really mean it (he said as he held out his pointer finger pointing it slightly towards me and then giving it a little shake as if to show me how serious he was).
Me: That's okay. You don't have to sing if you don't want to.
J: but don't worry about me because I'm learning lots of things (he said in a rather reassuring tone).
9/8/12
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, this is your last chance give me a sucker.
He got a sucker. Hey, don't think of me as a parent that caves under whiny pressure, he said it was my last chance.
9/25/12
J to Raquel after I asked Raquel not to do something: Raquel, you don't have to listen to mommy.
They're already ganging up on me!!!
10/26/12
Yesterday J kept wandering off into the guest room. Whenever I checked on him I found him staring at his class photo. He even brought the photo to bed with him. When I asked him what he was looking at in his class photo he said, "the girl with the curly hair." I said do you like her," he replied, "yes. I don't know her name though but sometimes we play at recess." I think my son may have his first little boy crush.
10/31/12
After trick or treating J said, "I got a lot of candy so my whole family could have some."
11/28/12
J: Mom, do you know who my favorite grown up is?
Me: Who?
J: Daddy and Santa Clause
How exactly did I come in below Santa? Actually it seems more like I don't come in on that list at all. Doesn't matter, I still love that little kid with every cell in my body.
11/30/12
So this one is, ahem, lets just say not G rated.
J to me: What's a pussy?
Me: says nothing. Stares blankly unable to make eye contact with my innocent 4 year old. I took a deep breath as I sorted out exactly how I would answer his question...
J followed up with: Garfield is a big fat pussycat.
Um, yeah, I'm corrupted. How did I possibly think he meant anything other than a pussycat.
12/9/12
J: Mom, we gotta help someone out for Christmas. Like if there was a kid who don't have any shoes, we have to buy him some.
I can honestly say I do nothing to prompt these kinds of statements from him yet they are frequent. Jamison is innately kind, generous, and compassionate. I'd love to take credit with my wonderful parenting but Jamison is gentle through and through with or without my style of parenting. I am so proud of who he is becoming.
12/12/12
J: Mom, maybe for Christmas you'll get me Chick Hicks and the King because you like me so much and because I'm your son and Daddy's son.
Cute reasoning of a 4 year old.
12/16/12
J: Mom, just loving Lola makes my heart feel bigger.
Just hearing that fills mine up with joy.
12/18/12
J: Mom, I have two jobs. One is to take care of Raquel and two is me and Raquel make sure you and daddy have lots of love.
12/24/12
Mom, do you want to know what's more important than presents or toys? My family.
I see an overall theme here of generosity, compassion, love, and caring beyond what I would expect form a four year old. He's an amazing little guy.
Some things worth noting:
On July 23, 2012 Raquel said "bye" for the first time.
7/30/12
L shook her head "no" at me when I tried to give her Vitamin D drops. I was trying to give her vitamin D drops and with a grin as big as she could do while still holding her mouth tightly shut (unlike her, she loves those drops) she proudly shook her head side to side. I think she was just testing out her new skill. It's not that she didn't want the drops but that she had been waiting for a chance, any chance, to let me know what she could do.
8/14/12
L threw my washable nursing pad in the toilet...while J was pooping in it. I threw it away after fishing it out. Oh the life of a mother.
8/20/12
Raquel not quit 13 months has recently started shaking her head "yes". She's been shaking her head "no" for a week or so but "yes" she seems to do with much more excitement than "no." She also says, mama, dada, hi, bye, and, yeah. Too cute.
Oh yeah she also signs, "milk," "more," and "all done" and also waves but has actually been waving now for a while.
10/29/12
Raquel went potty on the toilet for the first time!!! She came walking into the bathroom, grabbed her potty seat, put it on the toilet, and started asking for help onto it. Then she peed!!! Fully initiated by herself.
11/26/12
Raquel's words at 16 months in order of when she said them: mama, dada (maybe), hi, bye, eye, I love you (slurred together to sound like ILaOo, hot (pronounced ha), dog (sometimes pronounced da sometimes pronounced og), bite (pronounced ite). I've been told she also says car but have yet to hear it, and today she said dada with definite intent; she looked at Rob, pointed at him, and said "dada."
12/16/12
Raquel finally has more than 4 teeth. She cut her fifth one yesterday.
12/28/12
Raquel has cut her 6th tooth!
12/28/12
I heard L making kissing noises over and over so I take a look at her to see that she was holding the the hand held mirror up to her pudgy little face, was looking in it at herself in awe as she continued to "kiss" herself with the curiosity only a 17 month old could possess.
Cute things Jamison has said:
7/25/12 (Raquel's birthday)
J: Mom, is Raquel one?
Me: yes
J: But why isn't she talking to me than?
7/3012
J: I thought I was going to be a bird when I came out of your belly and I was sad when I wasn't in a nest.
Hm, maybe the Buddhists have it right.
7/31/12
J's dream: I dreamt I was an adult in a kid pool and I put my whole head in the water.
7/31/12
While clipping J's nails he said, "mom, when you get old and can't clip your fingernails, I'll clip them for you when I'm an adult" He actually sounded very excited like it was a brilliant idea. Brilliantly compassionate. He's so sweet. I think I'll hold him to this one.
8/2/12
J: I just kissed Raquel. That means I love her. I'll never stop loving her. I just can't stop loving her. I also can't stop loving you, mommy. I can't stop loving my whole flamily (yes, I know it's mispelled, that's how J says it).
Me: Oh Jamison. I can't stop loving you. No matter what I will always love you. I will love you if you make good choices. I will love you if you make bad choices. I will love you if you make silly choices.
J: you just made me happy.
8/22/12
Me: you can pick whatever you want to wear for your first day of school. You can pick something that shows who you are.
J: I don't have anything like that.
Me: You don't?
J: Yeah, none of my clothes have my name on it.
9/5/12
Me: What did you do in class?
J: We sand a song but I didn't sing.
Me: Did anyone else not sing?
J: Nope, just me.
Me: Why didn't you sing in class?
J: Because it is boring... I really mean it (he said as he held out his pointer finger pointing it slightly towards me and then giving it a little shake as if to show me how serious he was).
Me: That's okay. You don't have to sing if you don't want to.
J: but don't worry about me because I'm learning lots of things (he said in a rather reassuring tone).
9/8/12
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, this is your last chance give me a sucker.
He got a sucker. Hey, don't think of me as a parent that caves under whiny pressure, he said it was my last chance.
9/25/12
J to Raquel after I asked Raquel not to do something: Raquel, you don't have to listen to mommy.
They're already ganging up on me!!!
10/26/12
Yesterday J kept wandering off into the guest room. Whenever I checked on him I found him staring at his class photo. He even brought the photo to bed with him. When I asked him what he was looking at in his class photo he said, "the girl with the curly hair." I said do you like her," he replied, "yes. I don't know her name though but sometimes we play at recess." I think my son may have his first little boy crush.
10/31/12
After trick or treating J said, "I got a lot of candy so my whole family could have some."
11/28/12
J: Mom, do you know who my favorite grown up is?
Me: Who?
J: Daddy and Santa Clause
How exactly did I come in below Santa? Actually it seems more like I don't come in on that list at all. Doesn't matter, I still love that little kid with every cell in my body.
11/30/12
So this one is, ahem, lets just say not G rated.
J to me: What's a pussy?
Me: says nothing. Stares blankly unable to make eye contact with my innocent 4 year old. I took a deep breath as I sorted out exactly how I would answer his question...
J followed up with: Garfield is a big fat pussycat.
Um, yeah, I'm corrupted. How did I possibly think he meant anything other than a pussycat.
12/9/12
J: Mom, we gotta help someone out for Christmas. Like if there was a kid who don't have any shoes, we have to buy him some.
I can honestly say I do nothing to prompt these kinds of statements from him yet they are frequent. Jamison is innately kind, generous, and compassionate. I'd love to take credit with my wonderful parenting but Jamison is gentle through and through with or without my style of parenting. I am so proud of who he is becoming.
12/12/12
J: Mom, maybe for Christmas you'll get me Chick Hicks and the King because you like me so much and because I'm your son and Daddy's son.
Cute reasoning of a 4 year old.
12/16/12
J: Mom, just loving Lola makes my heart feel bigger.
Just hearing that fills mine up with joy.
12/18/12
J: Mom, I have two jobs. One is to take care of Raquel and two is me and Raquel make sure you and daddy have lots of love.
12/24/12
Mom, do you want to know what's more important than presents or toys? My family.
I see an overall theme here of generosity, compassion, love, and caring beyond what I would expect form a four year old. He's an amazing little guy.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Raquel's Revised Birth Story
It was 6 days past my due date, I was being taken over by a mild but itchy case of PUPPS (Pruritic Urticarial Papules and Plaques of Pregnancy) when I was woken up by the distantly familiar feelings of labor at 3 in the morning. I was having short and mild contractions but not so short or mild that I was able to go back to sleep again. I tried. After 30 minutes and several contractions later I accepted I would not be sleeping again without a baby next to me and got out of bed. It was the end of our current family dynamic and the beginning of something new, something better, the beginning of life. This planet was about to get a little more beautiful. I went into the living room, got some snacks, and began focusing through my contractions. I appreciated the time alone and was enjoying trying different positions that worked for me. I wasn't having any difficulty getting through each contraction but was "practicing" for when things got harder.
Around 5am I was pleased to see the surprised face of my sweet husband, he had not even noticed I wasn't in bed when he got up, so when he walked into the living room to find me kneeling over the couch he was caught off guard. I told him I had been having regular contractions for the last couple hours but that he should go ahead and go on his regularly scheduled morning bike ride, he just needed to keep it short. He refused, good man, and I was happy as this meant we could go for a walk together. We woke my mom up to let her know what was going on and also so we could put Jamison into her bed. We didn't want him to wake up alone in our family bed and wonder where we were. At this point my mom told me that before bed she had lit a candle and said a small prayer the night before encouraging my body to start the process of bringing life to our side of the world. It worked! So around 530 in the morning Rob and I went walking around our neighborhood together. The morning air was a perfectly crisp temperature somewhere in the low 70s, there was a bright sliver of a moon in the sky that gently lit the sidewalk, and the birds were just beginning to chirp. It was just us with an occasional car leaving for an early morning shift. I already felt somewhat disconnected from life outside my body as I focused on the task at hand. We stayed close to home but walked around the block many times while Rob timed my contractions using a cell phone application made just for this. Sometimes I was able to keep walking through the contractions but sometimes I would have to stop and lean onto Rob for support while I waited for them to pass. After I was no longer comfortable walking around we went back home to labor some more there. I spent time leaning on Rob, leaning on the pony wall, leaning over the birth ball and even in the tub.
My mom and Jamison eventually woke up and wonderful Jamison was so quiet and so gentle through all of it. He did not worry about me; my mom made sure to inform him that I was working very hard to bring his baby sister here and that he needed to be calm and quiet for me. His thoughtful three year old mind could somehow understand the magnitude of bringing forth life as he did a great job at staying calm and quiet while I focused through each contraction. After several more hours my contractions were becoming ever more powerful and were accompanied by some spotting, something I never had while in labor with Jamison. This gave me hope that I was making some progress, though fear still gripped me tight as I mulled over my previous birth, beautiful as it was, I did not want another cesarean section.
We contacted our Doula and requested she come to our house but it was no more than a few minutes later when we decided we would meet her at the hospital after all as both Rob and I were getting anxious. I was feeling eager to settle into where my baby was going to be born and I really wanted the car ride over with. We left my mom and Jamison behind so that they could make arrangements for Jamison to be picked up. We headed for the U of U hospital around 10AM but not before my very sweet son gently put my sandals on my feet as a lay over the birth ball.
Before labor started I was petrified of the car ride but it wasn't as bad as I thought even with bumper to bumper traffic down foothill blvd. I spent the entire car ride on my knees in the front seat leaning over the back of it. With each contraction I visualized the word "OPEN". I was so afraid this would be just like my previous labor that the word "OPEN" seemed the most appropriate word to think of. My labor had, after all, started similar to Jamison's. Both started at 3 in the morning and both started with no dilation and little effacement. Not to mention baby was not in an anterior position, much like J, to only further discourage me but I kept an open mind and tried to relax. I was working together with my baby girl; a new birth, a new baby.
I remained hopeful. Hopeful that I would get to the hospital and be at least a 6. If I was a 6 I would be happy, I thought. I should have known better from last time not to pick numbers and then place such importance on them that it could change the course of my birth. Once at the hospital the nurses immediately put me in the closest room and began asking a battery of questions to check me in. Rob answering all of them, of course. I was told to get undressed from the waist down before they could start checking baby's heart rate but I was never asked to put on a hospital gown. No one cared that I remained in my own clothing, a black over-sized night gown that clung tightly to my pregnant belly. This was significant to me because I specifically did not want to have to deal with changing my clothes during labor. They hooked me up to the monitor all the while letting me take the time and positions I needed to make it through each contractions. I knew this part was going to be a challenge and I new I was going to get "extra attention" due to my previous cesarean birth but all the while the nurses remained respectful and patient. "Good job, girl. You're doing great" both nurses kept saying; quite a contrast from being held down by one of the nurses while laboring with Jamison. Once they got a heartbeat on the monitor they had me lay down to check for dilation. This part was difficult and probably would have been better off not done at all, laying down was extremely uncomfortable and the result was just discouraging anyway. They told me I was a 4 1/2. I was hoping for so much more and all I could do was chuckle a bit. I wasn't going to give up! I was determined! In response to my reaction the nurse said, "You must be happy about this given your smile" I informed them it was a smile of disappointment. At this point I told myself I will wait to get settled in with my doula and my midwife before I make any decisions about pain medication. I tried to back track from my desire to be a 6 and continue to trust my body, to trust each powerful contraction, and to trust that my body, and my baby, were capable.
After they determined baby's heart rate was fine and that I would be admitted I was taken to the room I would actually be delivering in. I honestly have no memory of how I got to that room, probably walking, but once there I was able to lean over a birth ball (my most beloved position), and have my full support team there and available to me. My doula showed up, my mom showed up, and I even got the midwife I was hoping would be on call! My midwife came quietly walking in while I was in the middle of a contraction, she gently but confidently walked up and did a hip squeeze maneuver that immediately helped relieve the intensity of the contraction. From then on out someone (sometimes two people at a time) applied the same pressure to my hips with every contraction. I was taking it one contraction at a time while everyone was encouraging me, rubbing my back, pressing in certain areas to decrease the pain and various other ways of keeping me going. All of it, every bit of it, was so very helpful. Every women in the room, as well as the one man (my husband), were doing everything perfect. Absolutely perfect. Every touch, every word of encouragement, everyone was working together to make this easier for me and it worked! When my midwife left the room I felt a sense of fear, I didn't want her to leave, her presence was comforting, but it was brief, and it was to get some essential oils to spray around the room. I could feel the cool mist gently landing on my back and the smell was refreshing. Everything that everyone did was to support and encourage me so that I could let my body birth as it was meant to do.
At one point the nurse asked me, "you plan on going un-medicated, right?" I laughed and told her that was yet to be decided. It was certainly the goal but at this point I had my doubts. She responded with "well, if you want pain relief that is your choice but I will not bring it up again, so if you want it you can ask". Prefect I thought.
I continued to labor. My Doula reminding me to relax and to moan low, rubbing my back and helping me stay focused. My midwife rubbing my back and feet all the while monitoring my well being as well as my baby's. My mom moaning with me to remind me to keep my sounds low and productive. It was perfect, I was comfortable making whatever noises I needed knowing my mom was right there doing it too! I guess a mother never loses touch with her daughter. My sweet husband gently whispering in my ear that I was doing a good job, helping with hip squeezes, and taking me to the bathroom whenever I needed. When I was checked again I was a 7 1/2. I had a bit of a negative attitude as I was sure my labor wouldn't progress like last time. I complained that I was only a 7 1/2 but my doula gently reminded me that I was farther dilated than I ever did with my last labor. My midwife pointed out how fast I had gone from a 4 1/2 to over a 7. At this point they had to change the location of the fetal monitor from high up on my right side to down low on my left side; baby had rotated to a better position and was down low! I continued taking it one intense contraction at a time all the while thinking, if I want drugs I can get them. The truth is I didn't want them, not any of them, I was not interested in them coming in and messing with me; making me lay down, making me get IV fluids etc. Some positions were so horribly painful I thought if I ask for an epidural and they make me lay down I will die, it just didn't seem worth it. So I kept relying on my support team to make things bearable. I cannot emphasize enough that the tricks these ladies knew, and shared with my mom and Rob, were amazing. Absolutely amazing! The words each person said, the touch, the scents, it was all too much to even ask for yet I got it all. Everyone worked so well together it was just perfect!
I soon began getting the urge to push. With each contraction my moans changed from pain coping sounds to short grunting sounds. "I think she's pushing" I heard someone say. "I think I'm pushing" I said in response. It was almost over I thought but really it was only beginning! I was standing and could not for the life of me lay down. My midwife checked me while I stood but did mention it was a hard position to check in. She thought I might be a 10 and told me if I had the urge I could push if I wanted. So I pushed just as I had been. Little nudges and not much more. My midwife requested I lay on my side on the bed so that she could check me better as she felt a little unsure about her last check. She was extremely apologetic when she had to give me the bad news that I was really still an 8. "AN 8!" I exclaimed. "I can't do this, I can't do this" I began saying. I was an 8 twenty minute ago, which isn't long, but at the time it felt like an eternity. "I want an epidural." Although I had crawled deep within myself hours earlier I had now lost focus and was losing control. The pain and intensity was taking over and I wanted to give up. I think they call this transition! My doula mentioned breaking my water as one option to speed things up, I declined as I was terrified things might get more intense than I felt I would be able to handle. My midwife agreed and supported my decision so we left them intact. Everyone reminded me that an 8 was really good.
My midwife, sensing fear spilling over from my last birthing experience, got eye level with me and gently but sternly said, "Meghan, this is not like your last. This is different".
My doula encouraged me to go 3 or 4 more contractions and then reevaluate. I agreed to go 2 more but it would be many more before I brought up pain medication again, mainly because I slipped so far into a different place there really wasn't much room to think about anything other than getting through it. The contractions were so intense, more than my mind could handle, they were flooding over my entire body; from every hair on my head to the tips of my toes I could feel the intensity and power of each contraction. My mind had shut off, submitting fully to my body as my body took over and labor continued. It was around this time Rob and my mom started offering me some personal items I had brought with me intended to give me strength. I chose a charm Rob had given me at the conclusion of our birth class and focused on it in my hand. With each contraction I dragged my fingernail over each raised line of the symbol that represented a labyrinth.
After a few more contractions my doula and midwife suggested I change positions, I chose to stand at the edge of the bed again. Another contraction! Another slight urge to push and immediately I felt like I had been hit by a freight train. My water broke the pressure changed, the sensation changed and I collapsed. My knees buckled and I completely collapsed into a squat as my arms reached up holding onto the edge of the bed. My mom was holding tight to my arms from across the other side of the bed, my doula, midwife and Rob all holding me up from behind. I screamed, no moaned. I never screamed, I was never scared. I had no control of my body, none, every single muscle pushed without asking for permission and pushed with a fierce strength I never knew I had. My body had completely taken over. Imagine standing on a train track and suddenly, without warning, a train comes and slams into you from behind, you never saw it coming. That is the best way I can explain the sudden intensity of having that urge to push. Finally the pressure, the train, it stopped. I stood up, I breathed, I relaxed. I almost felt like I could fall asleep but not enough time; another contraction, another chance for my muscles to take over. I collapsed again, being held up by my team, I moaned, I felt pain and pressure so severe, so strong, so intense I had checked out of my body...but I wasn't scared. If before my mind "shut off submitting fully to my body" it had now walked off, left the room, left the planet. I trusted my team and they continuously reassured me I was doing good. I knew if anything went wrong I was taken care of, I was safe. I could focus solely on getting my baby out. My midwife began instructing the nurses to get the squat bar. In between contractions I climbed up onto the bed and was told how to effectively use the squat bar. It was a great place to be at that time in my labor; brilliant was my Midwife to recognize the need for it. More contractions, more pushing, more freight train, more giving into my body.
I even joked "is it too late for an epidural?" I asked in between pushing. I was told by many natural birthing mamas the pain stops when the pushing starts. To that I say bull. I was looking forward to pushing the entire time in hopes of finding some relief. My doula put it best when I met her before labor "you welcome the change in sensation" this is true but that "change in sensation" came with other things that were not necessarily welcomed. Regardless I was happy to be getting close. At his point my midwife noticed I still had a "lip" left on my cervix, pretty bad news to me but turns out it was as simple as her going "let me see if I can just push this out of the way" and away it went, no biggie.
"Meghan, do you want to feel her head?" I said no. Not sure why I wasn't interested in such an amazing opportunity but my Midwife knew it was one I wouldn't want to miss. "Meghan, reach down here and feel her head" I did it. My response, "that is it? That is hardly out" I was such a downer. I had spent the entire labor concerned of not progressing like last time. It seemed no matter how much progress I made I was convinced it wasn't enough. So my amazing birth team, yet again, reminded me of my great progress.
I kept pushing when I had the urge and relaxing when I didn't. My midwife patiently watched and waited and simply supported me. Then her demeanor changed a bit. She began telling me I needed to push and push hard, even instructing me to push in between contractions. She looked at me, she was serious. "I need to do an episiotomy. I haven't done one in 4 or 5 years, I'm so sorry". I remember talking about episiotomies at the clinic. The Midwives were against them unless they were absolutely necessary. I didn't fully understand the seriousness of the situation but I knew something had to be going on. I wasn't scared, I trusted my team.
At this point my husband said things got kind of crazy in the birthing room. My daughter's heart rate had dropped, and dropped low into the 60s only recovering into the 90s. This pattern was remaining despite my teams best efforts. I was changing positions and given oxygen to try and help baby girl get more but it wasn't working. There was the potential that she would need to be resuscitated upon coming out. I never felt scared. My midwife was never panicked, she never made me feel fearful, she acted quick, she made good decisions, and I trusted her fully.
"Will you numb it?"
"There is no need, the baby's head on the perineum is a natural anesthesia, you won't feel it." she was right, I didn't feel a thing.
I kept pushing until I felt her head slide out! The burning and pain decreased immediately and it felt as though the rest of her slid right out. I later learned, due to a tight cord wrapped around my baby's neck, my midwife did some cool midwife trick to help get her out quickly without having to prematurely cut the tight cord. A quick check by the midwife to make sure all was okay and just like that she was on my chest. She was damp but easy to hold onto, not slippery like I thought she would be. Her smell, it was 'earthy'. It was pleasant, it was the scent of life, of hard work, of strength beyond comprehension, it was of me and her. I will never forget her smell. So distinct but completely hard to describe.
She was perfectly healthy and I believe my midwife's quick decisions and cool maneuvers were a huge part of my baby's health! Her cord was wrapped tightly around her neck, her arm and her body. In most situations the cord around the neck is not a big deal however in my baby's situation it was very tight. My amazing midwife did some cool midwife trick where you keep baby's head close to mom's thigh and flip her around doing some somersault thingy, apparently it's something to do when the cord is too tight. Rob got to watch and said it was pretty cool. I hardly knew any of this was going on, I never felt scared. I trusted my team.
"Can someone get the resident?" My midwife asked. She had begun stitching me. I looked at her face and she was focused. She kept inspecting me, stitching me, cleaning me but the resident never came. No one got him, no one listened to her. "I need someone to get Jacob right now" she sternly repeated. I had lost 500mls of blood. Anything over 500mls is a hemorrhage but I never felt scared.
Jacob came in and I was offered an epidural by the resident while they did repairs. Apparently some areas were deep enough inside and bad enough it was difficult to get numb. I declined the epidural. I was not about to go through what I just went through only to have an epidural for some stitches. They numbed me up as best they could, which wasn't good enough and what seemed like over an hour (and probably was) I had a clean bill of health!
Baby girl born VBAC July 25, 2011 8 lbs 4.5 oz at 2:05 PM.
I DID IT!
Oh the funny things he says...
Oh the funny things he says...
"Dad, soon I'll have big nipples like you but not like girl nipples. Soon they will be hairy around." Lifts his shirt up I show us where the hair will be.
Poor Jamison was brought to tears today *sorry don't know what "today" was but this was at least a month or two ago* when I told him all the dinosaurs are dead. He began crying and said he wanted to see them at the zoo and didn't believe me when I told him the ones at the zoo were robots because, "robots don't have skin" he tearfully said he didn't want the dinosaurs to be dead.
M: what do you want for your birthday? Geo Trax? Chuck and handy?
J: I don't want you to go back to work, I just want one thing.
"Papa banana having a cat is sure not easy." As Noni chased a bird out of the house.
J: Mommy, did daddy be your fertilizer so that I could grow in your belly?
Me: yep
J: how about daddy fertilize another one to grow in your belly?
J slightly worried said, "mom, did all your teeth fall out when you were growing into an adult?"
J was playing with my old cabbage patch dolls I gave him.
M: what is your babies name?
J: bob cotless.
M: bob cotless?
J: yes, what's your baby's name?
M: Raquel and Jamison
J: mom, don't say I'm a baby because I'm pretending to be a daddy.
Jamison said, "mom I can hardly stand it, I love you more than ever"
"Mom when I grow up I'll drive all the way to Michelle's and buy me a nice boy cat"
And a couple things about baby L:
I noticed Raquel cut her first tooth early this morning. (4/11/12)
L is cracking me up! She's in such a good mood babbling like crazy and blowing raspberries in the back of the car. Smiling at J and trying so hard to engage him. Plus she was laughing so hard while I pushed J in the swing today, she was in the ergo. (3/23/22)
"Dad, soon I'll have big nipples like you but not like girl nipples. Soon they will be hairy around." Lifts his shirt up I show us where the hair will be.
Poor Jamison was brought to tears today *sorry don't know what "today" was but this was at least a month or two ago* when I told him all the dinosaurs are dead. He began crying and said he wanted to see them at the zoo and didn't believe me when I told him the ones at the zoo were robots because, "robots don't have skin" he tearfully said he didn't want the dinosaurs to be dead.
M: what do you want for your birthday? Geo Trax? Chuck and handy?
J: I don't want you to go back to work, I just want one thing.
"Papa banana having a cat is sure not easy." As Noni chased a bird out of the house.
J: Mommy, did daddy be your fertilizer so that I could grow in your belly?
Me: yep
J: how about daddy fertilize another one to grow in your belly?
J slightly worried said, "mom, did all your teeth fall out when you were growing into an adult?"
J was playing with my old cabbage patch dolls I gave him.
M: what is your babies name?
J: bob cotless.
M: bob cotless?
J: yes, what's your baby's name?
M: Raquel and Jamison
J: mom, don't say I'm a baby because I'm pretending to be a daddy.
Jamison said, "mom I can hardly stand it, I love you more than ever"
"Mom when I grow up I'll drive all the way to Michelle's and buy me a nice boy cat"
And a couple things about baby L:
I noticed Raquel cut her first tooth early this morning. (4/11/12)
L is cracking me up! She's in such a good mood babbling like crazy and blowing raspberries in the back of the car. Smiling at J and trying so hard to engage him. Plus she was laughing so hard while I pushed J in the swing today, she was in the ergo. (3/23/22)
Raquel, Raquel, Raquel. Dear sweet Raquel. You throw yourself on the floor with the slightest bit of disappointment but your smiles are many. You say, mama, dada, hi and bye although the latter two are indistinguishable audibly and can only be separated by the context they are used in. E.g. coming versus going. Today I hear Raquel around the corner saying, "i, i, i" I look to see her right up in Lola's face waving at her. Hahahah. Saying hi to the dog. Too cute.
My compassionate Jamison, I will always mourn the loss of our one on one relationship despite the fact that I thoroughly enjoy our dynamics as a trio (referring to our day to day stay at home lives, obviously we are a complete family with four). Jamison starts preschool soon and often tells me he is excited and nervous. Sounds perfectly normal to me and I let him know that. We have also discovered the wonderful world of the library! We have enough books to stock our own library so I was quite surprised when I realized that Jamison is sick of all our books. It became obvious when he started asking me to pull out the Christmas books. Really though I should have seen it sooner as I was awfully sick of reading them over and over again. I love The Cat In The Hat but after reading it for the 20th time love became downgraded to like and then shortly after that I simply appreciated it. Now we go to the library often, switching out the books we choose last week for the newest ones we want this week. Last week it was all about Clifford, this week it Curious George. Jamison gathers up as many books as he can carry, then a few more, and we sit and read as long as Raquel will let us. He then must pick no more than six books for him and one for Raquel. Nothing special about the number seven except that it is the number of books I have decided I can keep in the chaos of my home without losing them. It is always hard for him to narrow it down but when I remind him we get to come back he's more open to the idea of leaving some behind.
.JPG)
My compassionate Jamison, I will always mourn the loss of our one on one relationship despite the fact that I thoroughly enjoy our dynamics as a trio (referring to our day to day stay at home lives, obviously we are a complete family with four). Jamison starts preschool soon and often tells me he is excited and nervous. Sounds perfectly normal to me and I let him know that. We have also discovered the wonderful world of the library! We have enough books to stock our own library so I was quite surprised when I realized that Jamison is sick of all our books. It became obvious when he started asking me to pull out the Christmas books. Really though I should have seen it sooner as I was awfully sick of reading them over and over again. I love The Cat In The Hat but after reading it for the 20th time love became downgraded to like and then shortly after that I simply appreciated it. Now we go to the library often, switching out the books we choose last week for the newest ones we want this week. Last week it was all about Clifford, this week it Curious George. Jamison gathers up as many books as he can carry, then a few more, and we sit and read as long as Raquel will let us. He then must pick no more than six books for him and one for Raquel. Nothing special about the number seven except that it is the number of books I have decided I can keep in the chaos of my home without losing them. It is always hard for him to narrow it down but when I remind him we get to come back he's more open to the idea of leaving some behind.
.JPG)
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