Elise Gets Her Groove Back, Chicago, and Finn's Secret Revealed

A few months of feeling like garbage every single day and you start to question whether you'll ever feel normal again. I always tell myself, just to make it to week 16, but somewhere along the way, I actually forget what normal feels like.

This is about 15 weeks, I believe. And trust me, this is a really kind picture.  I'm too vain to post from a more accurate angle.

I've started out with a little extra junk in the trunk this time around and it's stressing me out to keep seeing the scale go up and know how much longer I have to go.  I keep trying to come up with scenarios in which I am not the size of a truck come September, but I'm having a hard time.  A baby is worth it, I know.

  Friday I was officially 16 weeks and right on cue I felt the fog begin to clear. Normal has started to creep back in, and it's amazing.  There were times this past week when I felt human! I felt like I could have conquered the Russian army! Normal feels so good!  For whole parts of days I not only felt motivated, I felt like I could actually get up and do something. I didn't feel like a pile of doody on the couch. I've known that our daily routine was in shambles, I just couldn't do anything about it.  But this week, nothing was going to stop me from climbing out of the ditch and getting things back on track.

Dan and I have agreed on some fairly serious financial goals and have resurrected The Budget in order to meet them.  One of the obvious avenues for improvement has been our eating out budget.  Dinner made the endangered species list back in January.  So this week I created a meal plan for the month.  I really think I can do it.  I can make dinner every night.  I can make dinner every night. I can make dinner every night. Don't mind my little pep talk, it's just been a while.

 And believe it or not, Ava has been begging to have her chores back.  And she requested that she have more chores than she did in Texas.  I have no idea what got into her but I won't complain.  I created each child's daily chore chart and have mapped out a tentative system.  I always feel like these systems have to be instated by trial and error and I can't be afraid to change what doesn't work.  I've come to points of inaction because I can't be sure if  "the system" is actually going to work out.  I've realized though, that the only way to find out is to try.    I also realized today that it would be very, very wise to create a daily chore chart for myself.  I can definitely use the reminders and I love checking things off a list.

We got Ava and Luke signed up for swimming lessons.

 The painters came yesterday and are making my dreams come true.  They completed the foyer and living room and they'll be back this next week to do the banister, kitchen cabinets, and family room.  I am so excited.


Finn and I had a pretty great trip to Chicago.  And Dan and the kids enjoyed non-baby activities at home, like hiking and the movie theater.

It was really good to get a visual on where my parents are living and working.  They have a cute, old house.  And they seem to be getting along well with their work.  Still, it was a little hard to see them and hang out with them, and feel like we so easily go together, but then remember that I was going home and they were staying there.  I won't lie, I wish they'd come home.

One of the really fun parts was that Finn remembered them.

 I am so glad he did, not only did it make things a little more fun for my parents, it also helped me out because I had a few extra hands willing to help that Finn was willing to receive because he wasn't scared of them.

I loved meeting Ian for lunch in Chicago.

We ate at Glen's Diner which I had seen on Diner's, Drive-ins, and Dives.

I enjoyed my meatloaf sandwich and some of Ian's Ruben, but my favorite part was the crab cakes. The scale and these meals probably have no correlation.

Mom and Dad drove me over to Lake Michigan. I didn't get any pictures, but it was beautiful.  I can't wait to go there this summer with the kids.  I thought about buying one of the mansions on the lake but I'm afraid that even with our extreme financial goals, they're still a little out of our price range.

Saturday, the whole gang, Ian, Cristina, Oliver, Sofia, Santiago, Leah, Chris, Noah, Ian, Sage, Thea, Me, Finn, Grandma and Grandpa, all went out for some deep dish pizza and to the Lincoln Park Zoo. I love, love, love my family.

And I can't tell you, though hopefully these pictures will help, how excited Finn was to meet his cousin Thea. 

He could not get enough of her.  

On one of our car rides, we made a discovery.  Because it was quite cold, I brought the blanket that Finn sleeps with into the car to cover him up.  While we rode, my mom, who was generously entertaining him while I rode in the front seat with a major headache, started to notice that he had an affinity for the tag on his blanket.  I am fully aware of taggie blankets and how lots of children really like the tags on things, it's just that my kids never seemed to care.  Except for Finn apparently.   So a day or so later, when I had to say goodbye, I luckily had the presence of mind to stick that blanket in our carry on.

I wasn't looking forward to the flight home.  On the plane ride out I basically fed him the entire way. There was not a second I wasn't somehow engaged in making him not fuss.  He was so tired, but he hasn't fallen asleep in my arms for months and I knew there was no way it was going to happen on the plane. By the time we landed I was exhausted.

On the way home, the line for airport security was out the door, literally.  For once I was really excited to be flying with the baby because they saw me waiting with him, they shunted me over to the ultra short line for kids and old people, which was good because I would have missed my flight for sure otherwise.

I folded up the stroller, took out the baby bottle and food, took off more items of clothing than should be necessary in public, and after they rubbed my palms with special paper and tested the Finn's bottle for explosives, we were deemed acceptable and they let us go.  Sadly, when they put my stroller through the x-ray machine they had to give it a good squish to make it fit.  When it came out the other end, it was jammed and I couldn't get it open.  Never mind that I had a baby in one hand, and in the other, a carry on bag, all the clothes I was no longer wearing, plus a stroller I couldn't actually push. Our flight was boarding in a matter of minutes.  I carried what I could and kicked the rest to a bench.

And thus ensued an epic wrestling match between me and that stroller.  I pushed and pulled, tugged and yanked. Finn sat next to me on the bench, eyes wide. I stood on one half and pulled with all my might with my hands on the other. It was ridiculous. Another family joined my bench to get dressed and I was sure that the husband, when he caught sight of my plight, was going to offer some man muscle.  The family ignored me, Finn was starting to get embarrassed and I was running out of time.  Right before I jumped off the ropes for a full body slam, I decided it might be wiser to call Dan and see if he would be mad if I abandoned the stroller all together.  But just as I gave one last tug, it popped right open.  We hustled to the gate, and the boarding was already underway.   And after all of that, the last thing I wanted to do was sit on the plane the next 2+ hours and try to entertain a baby who'd rather be sleeping in his bed.

Once we sat down, Finn strapped to me in his sling, he fussed and squirmed.  I pulled out his blanket, tag side up, popped in his paci, and after about 15 minutes he was sound asleep.

All of the times I'd be been desperate for him to sleep away from his bed flashed through my mind.  But I didn't even care! I was just so darn excited he was asleep, I smiled the whole way home.

Roxborough

So, the miracle we hoped for never came.  In fact, we decided that no matter what, we would take Ava when it was close to her act, let her sing, and then bring her straight home.  But when the time actually came to leave, despite being adequately drugged up, she was burning with fever and shaking and she said she really wanted to but she just couldn't do it.

There's always next year.

One of the best things about Colorado and honestly ranks as one of the best things that has ever happened to me in my whole life, is that Walmart delivers my groceries.  All I have to do is get on line and order up what I'd like, pick a delivery time for as early as the next day and then it all shows up at my front door.  It's absolutely a thing of beauty.

Luke has taken after Ava and has been writing a lot of books lately.  And then the other day he said he was going to draw the United States. I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty impressed by this.

I met a friend at the park one day shortly after we got here and realized that I am more off my game than I thought I was.  At 11 months old, Finn had never been in a swing.  Needless to say he loved it, which made me feel even worse for depriving him for so long.

 I also realized that I'd never let him ride in the seat of the shopping cart.  He has always shopped in his car seat in the cart or in the sling.  He also loved it, though I don't trust him for long trips.

  But seeing as how my groceries get delivered these days, him riding in the cart for our quick runs should work out.

Grandma Linda made Max a Spiderman Quilt.  He was thrilled!!

He is so into super heros these days.  He has a bunch of Little Golden books, and has even memorized a couple.  Dan shows the boys super hero movie trailers before bed, too. The other night after the boys had been put to bed, Max started frantically calling. "Daaad! Daaad! Dad! Dad! Daaaad!" So desperately like he was about to wet the bed or he'd thrown up or something.  Dan ran as fast as could down the hall and when he got in there and asked what was the matter, Max asked matter of factly, "How did Peter Parker get bit by that spider?"

Dan and I received callings at church this week which were further proof that Heavenly Father really is watching out for us.  When we first moved and met with the Bishopric and they asked about our previous callings Dan came straight out and said, "Well I'll just tell you that Elise hates Primary."  I was so shocked he said it, I had no reply.  Mostly because it's totally true. I have loved my times as a primary counselor, teaching sharing times up there.  I have loved being the primary secretary and taking attendance and organizing things over there.  And I have hated with an overwhelming passion sitting there in the trenches for two hours with other peoples ill behaved kids whispering constant reminders to sit down and listen. It was really one nightmare class that ruined it for me, but still.  Primary is not my favorite place and now it is no secret to you or our new bishopric.  Later Dan told me he said that because he couldn't survive my complaining/crying every Sunday.

Dan on the other hand, was praying mightily that he would have nothing to do with Scouts.  Something like Elder's Quorum Teacher would be perfect he said.  And that's exactly what he'll be.  I'll be the Mia Maid advisor for the 14-15 year old girls, which is also pretty much perfect for me.  I love Young Women's, its my happy place and I can show up and teach but I don't have to shoulder much responsibility and at this time in life that's exactly what I need.  Needless to say, we are both pleased.

Dan's past week of work was even worse than the last and I learned my lesson not to complain about my husband coming home after 8pm, because then he'll start coming home after 10pm.  Things really should settle down this week, especially because it's Spring Break and he only works today and tomorrow. Finn and I are leaving on Thursday to Chicago.  If we're lucky we should be able to squeeze in visits with Mom and Dad, Leah and her family, and Ian and his.  I am excited except for the plane ride.  Finn has been the best little traveler and is a seasoned flier.  But that was all before he developed an attitude and was big enough to want down.  I truly feel for a our seatmates.  In fact, I've already started praying for all of us.  I'd give practically anything to ride a plane alone right now.  I'd even appreciate being stranded in an airport. I'd bring a book, get a hot chocolate, maybe take a nap on the floor, and I'd do it all alone, and in peace.  But that would totally ruin Dan's plans with the kids. He has been looking forward to his long-planned outings with no baby.

It's funny because Dan has changed in a way I never expected, but at the same time thrills me to no end.  Over the past few years he has developed a deep appreciation for the outdoors.  He recognizes the beauty of it and the healing power of it and the worth of it.  I am an outdoor person.  Him not being that way obviously wasn't a deal breaker when we got married but it is a happy, happy thing to find ourselves in such commonality now. (His recent admission that he hopes we can one day own land had me giddy for days). He has made it our family goal to go to all the state parks in Colorado.  So far we've hit three, which is not too shabby considering our recent move and circumstances.  This past weekend was Roxborough State Park.

Geologically it was really interesting places. I hadn't really seen anything quite like it. And the two and half mile hike was significant for the kids (and kind of for us honestly, mostly because of Finn.)

There was whining but overall it was a really positive experience and we all agreed back at the van that we were glad we went.

I'm going to be sad to miss the next two parks on the Spring Break Agenda, but I am trusting Dan to take a lot of pictures and not let any of the kids die.

Singing the Blues

So, no doubt, this week was kind of a pooper.

I know you're dying to hear that I am still feeling sick.  And Dan has been working his tiny bottom off.

It's one thing for me to feel sick and tired and overwhelmed with life and that the only thing in the whole world that I want is to go to a hotel room alone, where know one can ask me for a sandwich or clean socks or to make the cereal boxes fit in the pantry or a bum wipe or homework assistance or help finding a toy.
(Not that I won't be happier to do all of that in a few hopeful weeks.)

But it's another thing entirely for me to see Dan, with no spring in his step or humor in his laugh or light in his eyes.  It's like the life's been sucked right out of him and that is a rare, sad sight and I hate it.

He takes the train in to work, which is pretty convenient.  But it also makes his commute a longer ordeal.  He's been leaving for work around 6am and working late all week, so after his hour long commute, he staggers in well after 8pm.  Needless to say, he hasn't been available for much helping at home and I am obviously, a really terrible and inefficient version of myself these days. So if you care to imagine our kitchen:  not a clear space on the counter to be found.  Every surface is covered with empty pizza boxes and sandwich crusts and crackly macaroni glued to to side of a pot. Towers of dishes are tipping out of the sink and old banana peels are getting black, I mean, the works.  Our kitchen hasn't looked like that...ever.  That's how we knew it was bad.

And each night when he'd come home, and we'd fall into bed and look into each other's respective tired eyes, we'd think, This is crap.  And we'd go to sleep.

But, BUT, there is a but. Even a bad week can have a couple of bright spots.  Finn took off walking on March 17.  And I caught it on video a few days later. he looked about as well kept as the kitchen. But that was fun! And happy!

And then yesterday I had a doctor's appointment.  And for the first time I got to hear the little heartbeat.  It was music to my ears.  I don't think there is a more beautiful sound, than that first little thumping.  And then I had an ultrasound.  That baby was so cute! A perfect little head and little arms and legs.  It jumped and kicked.  And in 2 minutes, it all became so much more real.  I was excited! I love that baby! I wish Dan could have been there because I think it would have made him happy too.

Tonight is the ward talent show. Ava was so excited and nervous to sing a solo.  She said, "I've wanted to do this since she was 5!"  I am really good at worrying, so I worried that this might be an embarrassing or disappointing experience for her.  But last night she practiced with the accompanist and she sounded so beautiful. I realized that this is actually just the perfect thing for a girl who could use a confidence boost and a perfect opportunity for her to try something new and feel successful.  And she was even more nervous and more excited. I was getting excited too.  Before bed last night she said, "I don't think I will be able to sleep tonight! I am so excited!"

And she was right. She couldn't sleep because at 2am this morning, she woke up with a 102 fever and didn't sleep the rest of the night.

She's been in tears more than once at the realization that she won't be able to go to the talent show.  I feel terrible for her! We're praying for a miracle.

Just a lot of words

I need a laptop, then I could do my whining from its rightful place, my bed.  But I don't have one, and I'm not sure a lot of whining is really what I need to be doing right now.  Just know that I could.  That I could fill up an entire page with how sick I feel and how tired I am of it. But I won't.
 

Instead, that thought can be the baseline from which I share the rest of things.

Overall, we are adjusting well.  The kids are doing pretty well with school.  Ava may have reached the end of the honeymoon, realizing that school is still school.  But her teacher and class remain a good spot for her.

Luke is doing fine in kindergarten and doesn't seem to mind that it's only 3 hours.

Max started three day a week preschool.  After a weekend, he's always less than thrilled about going back, but after I pick him up he's singing its praises.  I had planned for him to do four day a week junior kindergarten next year because he just misses the deadline for actual kindergarten.  But on account of the new baby and the ridiculous amount of shuttling I'm doing now, I think I am going to put him back in pre-k and delight in the idea that I will only drive him 3 days a week again.

You see, right now, I am taking Ava to school at 8:45am (9am school is glorious by the way!! No rushing!) And then Tues/Wed/Thurs I take Max to school at 12.  Of course, I can't just drop him off, I must get the baby out and bring Luke and Max inside as well.  Then everyday at 12:30 I take Luke to kindergarten.  I am supposed to drag the kids out of the car again and walk him up to the door, but I've become complacent with cheating and I send Luke up to the door by himself and watch him from my car and I will continue to do that until I get called out for it.  Then I pick Max back up at 3pm (back inside with the baby) and then pick up Ava and Luke at 3:30.  Phew! Just typing that out makes me feel yucky.  I've never fought daily thoughts to just keep the kids home from school because I don't want to take them.  The boys play together pretty well each morning anyway.

They don't know it yet, but next year Ava and Luke will ride the bus together, both directions. I didn't have the heart to make them do it this year, with all the changes and stress of moving.  And if Max does pre-k again, I think I can carpool with a friend, possibly requiring only one trip each of the three days.

When I had Finn last march, my carpool compadres stepped up big time and just took me out of the rotation, meaning I never had to take or pick up any of my kids either direction, the last 3 months of school. It was fabulous.

I've come to realize that I might be, in fact, one of those obnoxious people that think Texas is the best.  From the stop lights and street names, to the efficiency of church meetings and book club.  It's not really true of course, I could make a list of things that I don't love about Texas.  But lately, when I just crave the familiar, it's hard not to look back with rose colored glasses.  The street names though, I haven't come across any so confusing in all of my moves.  There are a million different streets with the same name.  The only difference is in the tiny little suffix at the end--Ave, Lane, Circle, Way, Road, Street. I don't know who the city street namer was but I can be sure his elementary report card said, "lacks creative thought". It's never enough to know the name of the road you want, you must know the whole thing. Every street in our neighborhood is basically one of three different names, the only differentiation being the little, tiny suffix in 2 point font, on the street sign.

We are getting used to the weather.  Everything we'd been told is true! It snows, and then the next day it melts and is gone.  It can be 65 in February.  And the next day it can be 10.  It is usually always sunny.  I learned my lesson, at the park last week, when Finn and I came home with very sunburned cheeks. And it took a few mornings of waking to snow for Ava not to ask if school was cancelled.

Dan's work is very busy and very stressful right now.  We had hoped that when he escaped the office closure in Dallas that things would slow down and perk up.  Unfortunately that has not been the case.

We've made our way out of most of the boxes, which feels great, though the house feels miles from being "done".  I usually really enjoy the decorating process but I find myself without vision or the ability to make choices at the moment.

I learned that I can have my groceries delivered! It has changed my life! In a tiny way, this makes up for the ridiculous amount of school pick ups and drop offs.

I miss my mom.  I miss my friends.  I miss my house.  I miss my stores and our schools.  I miss the arboretum and the parks and zoos we used to go to.  I miss a lot of little things that I didn't anticipate that I would. But life is good.

I was just telling Dan a few days ago, that even though things still seem unsettled for us and work is crazy and there's this surprise baby on its way, and I feel like complete crap 94% of every day, and nothing feels quite "right", despite all of that, it still feels "right".  Does that make any sense?  As much as I feel totally without control over so much of my life, I feel like it's going where it's supposed to.

And when everything else seems all upside down, that is a good feeling.

One

I haven't written for a while because all that goes through my mind these days is,

Ugh.  I can't wait to feel better.

or

I'm so tired of feeling sick.

or


I hate feeling sick.

or

Bllleeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh.

Nobody wants to hear that.  But today has an occasion for writing of an entirely different sort.

Finn is one!

At this stage of his life he is a professional crawler.

He stands on his own and walks along the furniture, but has not ventured to walk on his own.

 

He sleeps well at night.  He goes to bed between 7-7:30 and wakes somewhere around 6 for a bottle and will often go back to sleep.

He has 8 teeth.  4 on top and 4 on bottom.

He has a bit of an attitude not typical for most one year olds. The kind that seems so well thought out and a little bit wily. I might describe him as, cantankerous. He has this really ugly scream that he uses when he's mad or tired or hungry or is in church and just wants to get our goat. It's not just a cry or a whine, but a scream so forceful you're tempted to think that it's coming out both ends.

But when he's not screaming, he's generally happy.  He loves his brothers and sister.  And they love him.

He loves to eat and while he's one of our smaller babies, he his stomach seems to be bottomless.

He loves music and dances when he hears it.  Right now his favorites are most of the songs from Frozen and the theme song to the cartoon Sofia the First.

He is a handful.  But we wouldn't trade him for anything.

I Thought We Were Just Moving

You know, God really does have a sense of humor.  He does!

In fact that's why I haven't written in so long, because I just can't stop laughing.  Or maybe it's more like I'm staring blankly into space wondering what in the world is going on.

If you ask me real nice I will tell you how I know that God is so funny.

It's the same way that He always works things out in our lives for the best despite our inabilities to see  the long term benefits in the present.  Like those hindsight moments when it all comes together and you're left wondering why you never saw it that way before.

About 13 hours before the movers were scheduled to arrive at our house in Texas to begin packing our life into boxes, setting in motion our grand adventure of life changing proportions, I passed by an extra pregnancy test under my bathroom sink.  And I had a fleeting thought that I should, just, maybe, take the test and stop thinking about why my dear Aunt Flo was MIA.  It would be negative and I would have a renewed sense of patience because there was no way it would be positive.  A travelling husband and BIRTH CONTROL generally make things like 99.9% impossible.  In fact, I had insisted to my sister multiple times through texts that week that there was NO WAY I could be pregnant even though the lady was so late.  Because sisters text about periods.  At least mine do.  But taking the test would just be the reassurance I needed.

If you've followed this blog for any amount of time, I hope it's been clear that I include the sunshine and the rain.  What I write is real and I purposefully write what I do and the way I do.  I shoot for accuracy.

Even so, it's a little hard for me to say, that this was a hard pill to swallow.  For me and for Dan.  Mostly for Dan.  If there is something to know about Dan, as background for this situation, it's that he does not enjoy surprises.  He requires time to process things and really think them through.  I can't tell you how many times I  have presented him with a hair brained idea that he flat out refuses.  And then after a few days, he comes back admitting that maybe it's not so crazy after all.

This was one of those times.

Right after I had Finn (yeah, remember I actually already have a baby?!), I'm talking weeks after, I was already talking about the next one. I'm not sure how to explain the feeling exactly.  It wasn't that I wanted another baby. It wasn't a want. It was more like simple, straightforward information; there was another baby for us.  

Dan kindly said, in not so many words, "You are crazy.  Your hormones are totally out of whack.  I will not be getting you pregnant any time soon.  We can discuss the possibility of another baby in a very, very long time."

I insisted that there was no "possibility" about it, that the timing was really the only part open for debate, but that I felt very strongly that there was another baby for our family and I thought it should be a sooner rather than later thing.

Again, he stuck to his guns and insisted that we needed to slow down and he would not be participating in any baby making.

So I let it go.  Finn got bigger.  The feeling faded.  I started to think that waiting might be a good idea. I started picturing vacations and my skinny jeans. I even lost 5 pounds.

Precautions to prevent such an event were in place and our next baby was not on the radar.  Moving was on the radar.  Beginning a new position at work was on the radar.  Getting the kids settled into new schools was on the radar.  Our long anticipated dog was on the radar. Finding friends and the grocery store was on the radar.

But as I  have learned a few times over now, sometimes we're not as in charge of our lives as we thought we were.

In the moments of shock, and fear, and wonder, and worry, that undeniable feeling I had all those months ago is a great comfort.  There is another baby for us, I knew there was. And in time, I am sure I will find out why it was so imperative that their time was now.

Because the time is now.  I am so sick.  I am trying to unpack.

I am trying to convince the new people I meet that I am not a freak.  Luckily we have moved into what appears to be one of the friendliest wards on the planet.  I think we will be very happy here.

The kids started school and it seems to be going well too.  We had a little hesitation about putting Luke in Kinder or first grade, but he's in kinder and I think that is the best option (though not the perfect option) for now.  He goes to school for 2 hours and 50 minutes as opposed to the 7 and a half he was used to. His teacher is not my favorite but I've heard she's good.  Ava's teacher and class seem to be perfect for her and that is a relief. Max will start preschool tomorrow.    

The unpacking process is very slow going.  I am about 25% as productive as I'd like to be.  I'm considering throwing away all the boxes that are still unopened (there's a lot) and seeing how long it takes us to miss their contents.  I really pared down before we left but there is so much stuff here it's paralyzing.  I'm anxious for it to start feeling like "our place" but it doesn't even seem within reach.  Like I said, the timing of this whole thing wasn't in my plans, and someday I will probably see the wisdom in it, but I can't exactly see it right now.

But I can say for me, and for Dan, who has now had adequate processing time, that this baby is highly anticipated and already very loved.