Thursday, October 30, 2008

Pumpkin carving night and lessons learned




These are pictures of our pumpkin carving night. The kids were not very enthusiastic about pulling out the guts, although you can see in the picture above that Cory had fun with it. He was actually separating the seeds and guts for roasting. Ella and Lear had a great time just stabbing the pumpkins over and over again with those child-safe pumpkin carving knives. They were very proud of their new jack-o-lanterns, however. 

Earlier that day I went to vote early because I am going to be a poll worker on election day and I won't be able to do it then. Here's a word of advise for moms who are thinking about voting early: find someone to watch your kids! I took Lear and Ella, and they made it much more difficult than it needed to be. Lear kept running under the voting machines - and around people's legs and stuff - and Ella wanted to help me vote. She kept trying to touch the screen to vote for me, which is of course not allowed. Two year olds can't vote, Ella! So, she was screaming and crying, and the old lady next to me actually said, "Why can't that woman get her little girl to be quiet?" I was so mad! I did something I've never done before: I retorted, "Why can't you grow a heart?" That's probably the meanest thing I've ever said to a total stranger before. The old lady's husband then said, "Oh, she's all right," and started talking to Ella and keeping her distracted. I felt really bad at that point. I finished voting ASAP, and I thanked the nice husband a couple times before I left. He didn't really acknowledge me, and I'm not sure if he just couldn't hear me, or if he was ignoring me because I was mean to his wife. I suppose I deserved it if he was ignoring me. I don't think I would've been so mad if I wasn't already frustrated myself and had a nasty cold for several days now; however I should've done the Christlike thing and turned the other cheek. 

Lear quote: "Ella wants a pia cholata Slurpee, mommy." 

Ella quote: "Don't worry, mommy, you ok." (Said when I was pretending to cry because she wouldn't kiss me.)

Monday, October 20, 2008

Lear

On October 19, 2003 I woke up at 4:30 AM, with a feeling that something wasn't right. I got up and went to the bathroom, and while I was sitting there, my water broke a little more than five weeks too soon. I called to Cory to tell him, and considering where I was sitting, and the fact that it was extremely early in the AM, he didn't believe me, and told me to come back to bed. I convinced him that I wasn't overreacting or dreaming, and we called the doctor, who told us that if my labor didn't start in the next 8 hours, I needed to come in to the hospital to be induced. 

I don't think anyone can sleep under those conditions. While we waited for some contractions, we tried calling our parents. Cory's parents were in Cedar City, and my mother was visiting her sisters in Washington DC (dad stayed home for that trip). We had to call 411 for Cory's aunt's phone number where his mother was staying, and we got my aunt's cell phone number in DC where my mother was staying from my father. My mother couldn't leave right away, but Launa got into the car as fast as she could to make the three hour drive from Cedar to SLC. When she arrived at around 9 AM, I was still not in labor.

At 10 we arrived at the hospital, and I was induced around noon. After nearly eight hours of labor which included three-minute contractions, a wonderful epidural, and two hours of pushing, I heard the most beautiful sound ever: Lear's tiny voice. Not one minute later I heard one of the scariest sounds ever: Cory saying, "Why is his ribcage caving in like that? Is that normal?" 

My little angel's ribcage collapsed, and all I can say is, thank God for modern medicine - and I say that in the most reverent manner possible. I sometimes wonder if he would have survived, had it been 1903 or 1803 instead of 2003. The nurse was wonderful. He said, "No, that is NOT normal, but we're taking care of it." We needed a confident answer, and we got one. Lear was in the NICU for 8 days, and they were the hardest 8 days of my life. I would leave the hospital to go home at night, and it was all I could do to keep from sobbing every time I saw another new mom leaving with her healthy baby. I tried to tell myself that I was lucky to be getting full nights of sleep, when most mothers with newborns were up all night with their babies, but I would have traded all the sleep in the world to have him in his cradle next to our bed. 

He cried constantly for the first three months, it took him almost two years to sleep all night, and potty training was a nightmare, but I love my little guy so much I am completely incapable of describing it. So, forgive me if I'm feeling a little emotional at his fifth birthday. I know that there are families that spent more time in the NICU, and that there are children with more physical and mental challenges than Lear, but I don't believe that lessens the significance of our experiences. We are grateful that it wasn't worse, and much, much more grateful that he is such a lively, sweet, smart, and healthy boy now. 

I love you, Lear. Happy birthday.

Friday, October 17, 2008

She's a girl, all right.

This morning, I was sitting on my bed watching the Today show (the kids take over the plasma downstairs for their cartoons) and Ella came dancing up the stairs. She got up into bed with me and demanded that I get my brush. I thought she wanted to brush her hair, which is usually a fuzzball halo around her head in the mornings, but she actually wanted to brush mine. She spend about ten to fifteen minutes brushing my hair while singing nonsense songs. It was actually so cute I wanted to get a video camera, but then I selfishly remembered that I was still in my pajamas, with no makeup, and she'd been brushing my hair so much that it was starting to stick up - not a mean trick, considering my hair is down past my shoulder blades right now. I was also afraid that she would lose interest if I left.

She likes to have me put makeup on her when she sees me doing mine - I will consent to a little blush and chapstick occasionally- and she asks often for hair bows, although they rarely last more than thirty-two seconds in her hair. Her little cousin Danika always has the cutest hairstyles, which I often wish I could replicate, but Ella usually won't leave anything in her hair alone. She wants them, but then she tears them out - but don't try to put anything in unless she asks! Unless you're tired of being able to hear, of course.

She even talked me into buying her a little Disney Princess lip gloss thingy that we found in the Target dollar section, which she smeared all over her face when we got home. (When I say "talked me into" I mean she wouldn't put it back and turned on the cute, which she uses like a lethal weapon these days.) I think Disney must spike the water supply with pink fairy dust or something to get all the little girls to fall in love with princesses.

Ella quote: "Pur-pie!" (Translation: "Surprise!" Said while playing peekaboo.)

Lear quote: "Ella, look out the window! It snowed last night! Everything is snowderized!"

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

In the last week





The top picture is of our attempt at making raspberry jam. We were supposed to get a full pint out of it, but somehow we only got half... and it was way too thick! We took the jar when it was cool enough and turned it upside down - and nothing inside moved. It's about the consistency of  crystalized honey. Cory says it still tastes good, though. I was too scared to try it. While we were cleaning up, Lear got into the dishes and started licking the whisk we used to stir it. 

Next is Ella wearing my shoes. She loves to get into our closet and try on mommy's shoes - she never tries daddy's. Sometimes she even puts on my clothes, too. I think I'm going to need to get her a dress-up chest soon. Also, since Lear has started preschool, Ella and I have been having girl time, so we painted our toenails together last week. She was very proud of her pretty toes, which I think are adorable with or without polish. Lest you think I'm a glamor mommy, I swear that this was the first time I've painted Ella's fingers or toes (mostly because I very rarely paint my own). 

The last picture was taken after our night at the Midvale City Fire Department's open house. Thanks to a tip from my friend Coryellen, we went there for Family Night, where we saw a Jaws of Life demonstration, a firefighter repelling from a 100-foot ladder, and the firefighters putting out a fire. The kids thought it was great fun, although I think that Lear was a little nervous about the fire - we were standing a good 50 feet away from it, and we could still feel the intense heat. When I asked him his favorite part was, however, he said it was the men putting the fire out. They got firefighter hats for going through a mini fire safety training (which Lear put on backwards at first) and they've been wearing them almost constantly since. I think Lear's life ambition might change from being "a kid doctor and a daddy" to being a firefighter.

Lear quote: "But mommy, Ella uncomfed it! She took all the comf away!" (I was having trouble getting Lear to watch the LDS General Conference with us, so I made a nest of pillows and blankets for them to share and play in. Lear, of course, was hogging all the pillows, and when Ella tried to take some back, he threw a fit. The quote above is what he said when I told him to calm down. For those who are wondering, "comf" is Lear's declension of "comfortable.")

Ella quote: "No, I not a fille, I a girl!" (Daddy was telling everyone the French words for a bunch of random things, and Ella said this after he told her that she is a fille, which is French for girl.)

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Lear is growing up...

So, Lear started preschool today. We had some miscommunications with another preschool, and I had to find a new one post-haste, so he's starting a little late. I can't believe my little baby, my preemie, whose ribcage collapsed just after he was born and had to stay in the NICU for a week is big enough to go to preschool. I remember his little nose pressed up against my breast the first time we nursed, and the first time I heard him laugh; his bald little head and his sweet smell. I'm looking forward to spending some alone time with Ella, but I must admit I'm a little teary-eyed that my little boy isn't so little anymore - and this is just preschool! We haven't even gotten to kindergarten yet and I'm already weepy. This doesn't bode well. 

What I'm grateful for is that he's secure enough that he has no problems being left in a new place with new people. He jumped right in, talking and playing, as if he's known all the other kids and the teacher all his life. He really is a friendly, happy, sweet, and good little boy. I often think that my kids deserve a much better mother than me, but that doesn't keep me from seizing every moment I have with them. 

Lear quote:

Daddy, in his Darth Vader voice: "Lear, I am your father!"
Lear, imitating Daddy: "I know!"

Ella quote:

Ella, pointing at a drawing that Daddy just made: "Cow!"
Daddy: "No, Ella, that's a shoe, not a cow."
Ella: "No, Daddy, dat cow! Moo!"  

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Mad cows

Cory took me on my first backpacking trip this weekend. We went with our friends Brei and Kelly to White Pine Lake, which is in the mountains above Logan, Utah. Cory really loves backpacking, and he really wanted me to love it, too, which meant that he carried just about everything - the tent, our dishes and utensils, the hatchet, the shovel, and just about everything else we would need. I carried my sleeping bag, pad, clothes, and a few granola bars, which means that Cory's pack weighed fifty pounds (does that sound right for an overnight trip to you?) and mine weighed about twenty. He's so good to me. The White Pine trail starts at Tony Grove Lake, and is only 3.8 miles each way. There is a gradual uphill for the first three-quarters of the trail, then a very steep downhill with switchbacks before you get to the lake. And herein lies my problem: I don't have good endurance. I never have. When I was in track in my youth, I did sprints because I couldn't even make it around a 400 meter track without passing out. In gymnastics, I could handle the vault because it was a sprint, but the floor exercise, which only lasts 90 seconds at the most, used to leave me gasping. I'm like a dwarf from Lord of  Rings: very dangerous over short distances. I hate being out of breath - which means that those uphills really were hard for me, especially with the added weight of the pack. The gradual uphill at the beginning was hard but not torture. On our way back, however, that steep switchbacking section nearly had me in tears. I really wanted to just collapse, but being a gazillion miles away from home and at least three and a half from our car, I had no choice but to keep moving. Cory said later that he would've made two trips to take up our packs so I wouldn't have to carry mine if it got really bad. Isn't he wonderful? He was so incredibly patient with me. He really is my very own hero. I'm a very lucky girl.

The lake itself was beautiful. It is so clear that we could see the bottom of it from our campsite, which was about a 75 yards above it uphill. There are granite cliffs backing it, which makes the campground a big bowl around the lake. We didn't see any animals, other than squirrels, chipmunks, jumping fish, and cows. Yes, cows. Apparently ranchers are allowed to free-range cows in the area. They were so loud! We thought we wouldn't get any sleep with those bovines mooing all night long, their calls echoing noisily through the bowl. We had a relatively warm night - the day before was spectacularly beautiful for hiking. Cory said that he's never been so comfortable at night (temperature-wise) while backpacking before. The biggest problem we had was the rampaging cow that went tearing through our camp in the middle of the night. We could hear it's hoofbeats pounding by our tent, and it's outraged mooing seemed like it was right outside our door. Cory got up and started flashing the light, hoping to scare it away, but I was afraid that he would just pinpoint our location so it could more easily trample our tent. After a few seconds, however, the hoofbeats faded away, and the cow was gone. I'm not sure what had the thing so upset, but the hoof prints that Brei and Kelly found the next morning by our tents proved that the four of us weren't dreaming. Who would've thought that our greatest danger would come from a genetically-altered meat factory? 

We had a great time with our friends, however, and we are happy that they invited us along. I was a little embarrassed being the slowest, most out of shape person in the group, but luckily good friends won't rub that in one's face. Yes, Cory, I'll go backpacking again with you - as long as it's mostly flat or downhill terrain (so I can make gravity work for me), or next time you really will have to carry my stuff, too. 

Lear quote: "But mommy, we can't move to Iceland, because I don't speak Spanish."

(Said while watching a travel show about Iceland, after I said that Daddy is thinking about moving there if our economy crashes.)

Ella quote: "Cosy ate mommy's pants!" I never figured out why she said this, particularly because although our cat Cosy is extremely annoying, she's never offered to eat our clothes before.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Ska-doosh!

Friday night was an unusual night for our family: we went to see a movie! We don't take the kids very often because Lear is afraid of anything remotely scary, and Ella is just too little still. The last movie we went to see together was the Veggie Tales movie about a year ago, and Lear was terrified of the scene in the cave - I could say that he was traumatized without exaggerating much at all. We've been trying to get him to agree to see Wall-e, but the previews alone scare him, and Cory at one point even offered to bribe him with a toy lightsaber if he went to see it. (Lear is afraid of the Star Wars movies, but he likes the toys - just like Transformers. We went to see a home on the Parade of Homes in Salt Lake, and it had Transformers on in the home theater. Lear started whimpering immediately and ran out of the room with his hands over his ears, but he loves Transformers toys. His favorite toy right now is a Transformer that came in a Happy Meal - he gets upset when he loses it, and he's very excited when he finds it again.) Lear is just a very sensitive boy, I guess. Aladdin terrifies him. The Incredibles is reason for abject fear. Sleeping Beauty gives him nightmares. He will run upstairs screaming if Beauty and the Beast is on.

So, we kind of had to trick him into going to Kung Fu Panda. We didn't really tell him where we were going when we left, and when he figured it out, we promised to leave if he got too scared. I had to take him to the potty in the middle when he got a little nervous, but he actually did very well - I even heard him laughing a couple times. Ella is the one who got scared toward the end. She wanted to leave during the last fight scene, but once I turned her around to hug me, she was ok - she even eventually got interested in the movie again and turned around. All in all it was a success. We asked Lear if he liked it, and he said yes. We asked if we should buy it, and he said no. When we asked him if we should see it again, we got an emphatic no. So he liked it, but he doesn't ever want to see it again. How can anyone understand the logic of a four-year old? 

Lear quote: "Mommy, I love to watch you do your cross-ting." (Cross-ting is cross stitching. I don't know why he calls it that.)

Ella quote: "I 'cawe! I wa' my daddy! I wa' go home now!" (Translation: I'm scared, I want my daddy, and I want to go home now. Said while at the movie.)