Livin' on a prayer

Having three has been quite an adjustment for us. And now nearly 4 weeks out, we are beginning to see some semblance of normalcy around here.

While the kids haven't had any negative reactions to Max specifically, the upset in our routine and life has certainly made an impact. And again, as I should begin to expect, it was in ways that I did not predict.

I worried that Luke would feel very displaced and possibly aggressive. While I can tell that he is feeling a little displaced, he is like a gentle giant with Max. He barely grazes Max with his big paws to give him the softest pats. He calls him, "Baby Macks". He has needed a little extra love but he makes it easy by coming to snuggle up with me on the couch, especially when I am feeding the Baby. He still whines an incredible amount and has taken to emptying the entire toy house over and over. But overall, I could not love my quirky big boy any more.


It has been Ava who has taken me for a ride. Again, I don't know why I was surprised. I guess I just assumed that because she was older she would more easily make the adjustment. But I guessed wrong. She was very thrown off by Dan and I being gone in the beginning and having my parents stay at the house. It was clear that she was very stressed. And when Ava is stressed, it makes it self evident in some very unpleasant ways. I have only seen the likes of these tantrums once before and it involved the Katy rodeo and throw up.



She was so contrary, so ornery, so mean. It had me feeling really down and discouraged. Our time at home was so miserable and I couldn't help but worry that this was our new life and it stunk. And it would stink forever.

It was kind of like not feeling comfortable in your own skin. Because really my family is my skin.

People had warned me about how having more kids really gets easier because your older kids get older, but here I was feeling so bad, not because I was struggling with a newborn or my toddler. I was staying up at night consumed with worry over my oldest.

She is something. I don't know what it is, but she is something. She is the hardest thing I have ever done. I have had personal revelation on at least three separate occasions that explained to me that she and I were meant to be together. That it was no accident that she came to me. There is reason behind our relationship. Now I believe that the make up of all families is no accident, but I have been taught again and again that Ava and I are meant to be together. Maybe because that is information I need to remember when I am really struggling with her.

I already feel that I have learned so much and grown so much from being her mother. But these past few weeks have had me feeling so overwhelmed and anxious. Add to that the last few months of the pregnancy had me feeling so down, I was beginning to feel a little forgotten by Heavenly Father. I wondered how long He was gonna make me wallow. (Not really a good practice, I know.)

I have done some serious praying. Possibly the most serious I've ever been. Maybe even borderline begging.

And as I should have known, He delivered. Not that everything turned into Coltontopia, but rather three key pieces of information brought improvement. Three pieces of information that probably do not interest anyone else but our little family, yet I am writing them down for the sake of memory and therapy for myself.

Ava was having some serious trouble getting to sleep and at the end of a long day (and night with a newborn), this was enough to send all of us over the edge. Enter info number one: no more nap, instead she watches a movie on the portable dvd player in her room. This did shorten my personal alone time (to about 1 hour 20 minutes) but instead of her taking an hour and a half to fall asleep, and calling me into her room about 100 times, she knows rest time is over when the movie is done and she doesn't usually call me. So instead of 2+ hours of fractured time, I get 1.5 hours of uninterrupted time, which is just the break I need. And it also translates to a very sleepy girl at bedtime who puts up much less of a fight, due in part also to info number 2: Read a book together before bed.

Since the fight for bedtime is a fairly recent phenomenon, and she has always gone to bed so well with the "magic words" I have told her since she was a baby, we never saw need to mess with the routine. But after a little inspiration, we've introduced a story. Sitting on her bed, snuggling just her and I, provides some of the things she desperately needs right now; physical affection, attention, entertainment, love.

And the bedtime and naptime fights are basically old news now.

The third bit of information is fairly personal, yet I feel compelled to include it. And there is the great possibility that no one is even still reading this!

After a very rough morning at home, I sat in the doctors office waiting room for Max's check up with my mom. I was feeling so bad and I don't even remember what we were talking about, although I know it was about Ava. I had a light bulb moment. And with lots of tears it also brought a new perspective. I thought of my labor with Max. I thought of how each contraction hurt real real bad, but brought with it the progress that was necessary. And I remembered having the phrase "don't kick against the pricks" go through my head the entire labor-that tensing up only slowed the process, just breathe, accept it, and move on. And I remembered that when Max was actually born, the relief was so wonderful, that the moment was one of pure joy and elation, and I had realized then that the pain had been a required ingredient for that end result of utter happiness I was feeling.

And in a second's time, that whole situation was juxtaposed in my mind with the situation I was in with Ava.

It is in my nature to worry, to be tense, to be immobilized by my own anxiety and fear, to kick against the pricks. And I began to see that I must accept the pain for the sake of progress. That we are both here to grow. And that my anxiety not only did no good, it slowed us down. That I need to breathe, accept it, move forward. And then as I moved in my mind through the process to the end, I truly felt that together we might have a positive outcome. That maybe our time would not be eternally miserable as I had been imagining. I can't know when, but there will be a climax of joy, relief, contentment, happiness. I am sure of that now.

Certainly our lives are ups and downs; contraction and release. I can now see these phases of difficulties as contractions. And they will not last forever. There will be a release. Followed, most likely, by another contraction.


The job of Mother is labor. Not just the birthing process, but the living process. I will catch my breath on the release and I will accept the contractions. I will do my best to love and teach my children. And when I do not feel the love, I know if I pray for it sincerely, Heavenly Father will give it to me, consecrating my work as a labor of love.

Halloween and Reward or Punishment

Max and I came home from the hospital on the afternoon of Halloween.




The holiday didn't get nearly the attention it has in the past, but we managed to trick or treat.



We pretty much had to wrestle Luke into his lion suit and bribe him with candy, but once he was in, he was in!


Grandma and Dad did the escorting through the neighborhood while Grandpa and I handed out the candy and Max slept in his bouncy seat.


The kids had a great time and got tons of candy. And the night was deemed a success.


Later that week we decided to cash in on the promise to Ava for ice skating. The proposition had been involved in everything from pooping to sleeping over the past few weeks. And we figured it was high time to pay up. And we knew that having Mom here to help watch Luke would let me take pictures while Dan and Ava skated.

Unfortunately, the lighting was not so great for pictures and Ava was not so great for skating.


I had hoped they would have those walker-style contraptions for beginners but they had nothing of the sort. And Ava was not catching on very quickly. She couldn't even skate holding on to the side. Eventually, a nice skater lady took pity on them and held Ava's other hand while she and Dan pulled Ava around the rink. But after Skater Lady left them, Ava was stranded on the far side, clinging to the wall, Dan unable to bring her back by himself. The lady took pity again and helped her get back to the door. And before she left, she gave Dan a little tip. She suggested that he skate behind Ava and hold onto her under her armpits.

And that seemed to do the trick. Not that Ava skated at all; she turned to a rag doll while Dan heaved her around the ice. But she was having fun! Because there is something less than satisfying for everyone when the promised reward turns out to be torture. She had been so looking forward to ice skating, so even though she was killing Dan's back and not even skating, it was good to see a smile.

But all good things must come to an end. And a bit of advice, if you ever find yourself saying, "just one more time", you should probably quit while you're ahead.

As they went around "one last time" Dan did the splits and Ava did a face plant. I didn't know at first because they were on the far side of the ring and I didn't see the actual fall. I looked up when I heard her scream, but she is quite dramatic so I wasn't overly concerned. It was when the screaming didn't stop and I saw them being helped off the ice that I got worried.

Max and I made our way over while I called my mom who was at the play place with Luke. All I said was, "Can you hurry back?! We've got blood!"

Dan's white shirt was covered in blood. Ava had a huge scrape on her chin, a big mark on her forehead, a bloody mouth, swollen nose, and a fat lip. And Ava's skate cut into Dan's knee in two places.

Not quite the reward we had hoped for.

That week one of Ava's teachers came to the car as she was getting in and said, "So we heard about ice skating. And your husband did the splits, huh?" I explained that Dan was hoping Ava would leave that part out of the story, but she assured me, "No way! Ava's dad doing the splits is all over this school!"

So we won't be using ice skating as an incentive anymore. But maybe we could use it is a threat.

"If you don't......then you're going ice skating!"

From the beginning

I cannot believe this is the third time I am actually sitting at my computer in 2 and a half weeks. I have a small window of time so I better type fast!

I am so far behind in all forms of correspondence so if you haven't heard back from me, just know I have been very busy getting my booty kicked by three kids and I hope to make out of here alive very soon.

And because I am realizing that we never really announced it: Our baby's name is Maxwell Joseph. He was 6 lbs. 15 oz. and 19 1/2 inches long.

And his birthday was definitely not how I envisioned it.

I went in to be induced on Thursday morning after "sleeping" the previous night sitting up on the couch with my hands on my belly, hoping to force/will that child to stay head down.

We showed up to the hospital at 8 am. The doctor broke my water and started the pitocin. I expected things to move faster but it felt like we were off to a slow start, though looking back things didn't take too long. As I chatted with the nurses I mentioned that I did have a back condition called Spina Bifida Occulta and that it should be mentioned to the anesthesiologist but that it had never been a problem in the past. In fact, I had never even known I had it until a few years ago it made itself present on an x-ray for something else.

So the real excitement of the day was when the anesthesiologist herself came in to tell me that neither she nor any of her colleagues in the hospital would give me an epidural.

I had a few moments of panic as I realized what exactly this meant. And in an uncharacteristic fashion, I decided that I could either freak out and scream and cry or I could buck up and do this thing!

Our good friends Jill and Lee were at home with Ava and Luke. From their reports, Ava got off to school fine and Luke was doing great. All of this news eased my mind so much. We asked Lee to come help Dan give me a blessing.

And as I look back on that day I cannot help but feel that Heavenly Father's hands were on the whole thing. Everything went so well when they could have been so wrong!

The next thing I did was call another friend, Melissa, a hypnobirthing guru, to come help me. And just like everything else, she was magically available and willing to come to the hospital.

She helped me breathe and relax my way through the entire labor and she quietly slipped out the door shortly after Max was born.

She was truly heaven sent because I know I could not have done it without her! Dan was a champ and never left my side. He was always calm and helped me to stay the same. He tickled my arms during each contraction, while Melissa read aloud from her scripts.

I tried really hard to embrace each contraction, not shy away or tense up.

Looking back I think that natural labor is doable (obviously!) and that it was really only the last ten minutes that had me questioning my sanity and ability. And with practice, even that could be tolerable. Not that I want to do it that way again, though in the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder if it was no accident that I didn't receive an epidural that day.

Right at the end, Dan said I was making "animal noises" and that was right before I was screaming for drugs. But I made it! Max was born at 2:44 pm. And oh the relief! The relief! The relief was the most wonderful part!

I was shocked to see his little tufts of blond hair. I never would have imagined I could have made a blond baby.

My parents made it into town late that night. And for all the logistics of that week, I really felt that was amazing.

I have so much more to write for memory and therapy's sake but since this post alone has taken 2 days, I will pace myself. Sleep time is more precious than gold these days.